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CHAP r herl M . S ntheyear1878ItookmydegreeofDoctor of Medicine of the University of London, andproceededtoNetleytogothroughthe I courseprescribedforsurgeonsinthearmy.</s>Having completed my studies there, I was duly at- tachedtotheFifthNorthumberlandFusiliersasAssis- tantSurgeon. TheregimentwasstationedinIndiaat thetime,andbeforeIcouldjoinit,thesecondAfghan warhadbrokenout. OnlandingatBombay,Ilearned thatmycorpshadadvancedthroughthepasses,and wasalreadydeepintheenemy’scountry. Ifollowed, however, with many other officers who were in the samesituationasmyself,andsucceededinreaching Candaharinsafety,whereIfoundmyregiment,and atonceentereduponmynewduties.</s>The campaign brought honours and promotion to many, but for me it had nothing but misfortune and disaster. I was removed from my brigade and attachedtotheBerkshires,withwhomIservedatthe fatal battle of Maiwand. There I was struck on the shoulderbyaJezailbullet,whichshatteredthebone andgrazedthesubclavianartery. Ishouldhavefallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it not beenforthedevotionandcourageshownbyMurray, myorderly,whothrewmeacrossapack-horse,and succeededinbringingmesafelytotheBritishlines.</s>Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged hardships which I had undergone, I was removed, with a great train of wounded sufferers, to the base hospitalatPeshawar. HereIrallied,andhadalready improvedsofarastobeabletowalkaboutthewards, andeventobaskalittleupontheverandah,whenI wasstruckdownbyentericfever,thatcurseofourIn- dianpossessions. Formonthsmylifewasdespaired of, and when at last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was so weak and emaciated that a medicalboarddeterminedthatnotadayshouldbe lostinsendingmebacktoEngland. Iwasdispatched, accordingly, in the troopship Orontes, and landed a monthlateronPortsmouthjetty,withmyhealthirre- trievablyruined,butwithpermissionfromapaternal governmenttospendthenextninemonthsinattempt- ingtoimproveit.</s>I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was therefore as free as air—or as free as an income of elevenshillingsandsixpenceadaywillpermitaman to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravi- tated to London, that great cesspool into which all theloungersandidlersoftheEmpireareirresistibly PTER I.</s>ock olmes H drained. ThereIstayedforsometimeataprivateho- telintheStrand,leadingacomfortless,meaningless existence,andspendingsuchmoneyasIhad,consid- erablymorefreelythanIought. Soalarmingdidthe stateofmyfinancesbecome,thatIsoonrealizedthat Imusteitherleavethemetropolisandrusticatesome- whereinthecountry,orthatImustmakeacomplete alteration in my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative,Ibeganbymakingupmymindtoleave the hotel, and to take up my quarters in some less pretentiousandlessexpensivedomicile.</s>On the very day that I had come to this conclu- sion,IwasstandingattheCriterionBar,whensome onetappedmeontheshoulder,andturningroundI recognizedyoungStamford,whohadbeenadresser undermeatBart’s. Thesightofafriendlyfaceinthe greatwildernessofLondonisapleasantthingindeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never beenaparticularcronyofmine,butnowIhailedhim withenthusiasm,andhe,inhisturn,appearedtobe delighted to see me. In the exuberance of my joy, I askedhimtolunchwithmeattheHolborn,andwe startedofftogetherinahansom.</s>“Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?”heaskedinundisguisedwonder,aswerat- tled through the crowded London streets. “You are asthinasalathandasbrownasanut.” Igavehimashortsketchofmyadventures, and hadhardlyconcludeditbythetimethatwereached ourdestination.</s>“Poor devil!” he said, commiseratingly, after he hadlistenedtomymisfortunes. “Whatareyouupto now?” “Looking for lodgings,” I answered. “Trying to solve the problem as to whether it is possible to get comfortableroomsatareasonableprice.” “That’sastrangething,”remarkedmycompanion; “you are the second man to-day that has used that expressiontome.” “Andwhowasthefirst?”Iasked.</s>“Afellowwhoisworkingatthechemicallabora- tory up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself thismorningbecausehecouldnotgetsomeonetogo halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found,andwhichweretoomuchforhispurse.” “ByJove!”Icried,“ifhereallywantssomeoneto sharetheroomsandtheexpense,Iamtheverymanfor him. I should prefer having a partner to being alone.” Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wine-glass. “You don’t know Sherlock Holmes yet,” he said; “perhaps you would not care forhimasaconstantcompanion.” “Why,whatisthereagainsthim?” “Oh,Ididn’tsaytherewasanythingagainsthim.</s>Heisalittlequeerinhisideas—anenthusiastinsome branches of science. As far as I know he is a decent fellowenough.” “Amedicalstudent,Isuppose?”saidI.</s>“No—Ihavenoideawhatheintendstogoinfor. I believeheiswellupinanatomy,andheisafirst-class chemist;but,asfarasIknow,hehasnevertakenout anysystematicmedicalclasses. Hisstudiesarevery desultoryandeccentric,buthehasamassedalotof out-of-thewayknowledgewhichwouldastonishhis professors.” “Did you never ask him what he was going in for?”Iasked.</s>“No; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out, though he can be communicative enough when the fancyseizeshim.” “I should like to meet him,” I said. “If I am to lodgewithanyone,Ishouldpreferamanofstudious andquiethabits. Iamnotstrongenoughyettostand much noise or excitement. I had enough of both in Afghanistantolastmefortheremainderofmynatu- ralexistence. HowcouldImeetthisfriendofyours?” “Heissuretobeatthelaboratory,”returnedmy companion. “He either avoids the place for weeks, orelseheworkstherefrommorningtonight. Ifyou like,weshalldriveroundtogetherafterluncheon.” “Certainly,” I answered, and the conversation driftedawayintootherchannels.</s>Aswemadeourwaytothehospitalafterleaving theHolborn, Stamfordgavemeafewmoreparticu- larsaboutthegentlemanwhomIproposedtotakeas afellow-lodger.</s>“Youmustn’t blame meif youdon’t geton with him,” he said; “I know nothing more of him than I have learned from meeting him occasionally in the laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you mustnotholdmeresponsible.” “If we don’t get on it will be easy to part com- pany,” I answered. “It seems to me, Stamford,” I added, looking hard at my companion, “that you havesomereasonforwashingyourhandsofthemat- ter. Isthisfellow’stempersoformidable,orwhatis it? Don’tbemealy-mouthedaboutit.” “Itisnoteasytoexpresstheinexpressible,”hean- sweredwithalaugh. “Holmesisalittletooscientific for my tastes—it approaches to cold-bloodedness. I couldimaginehisgivingafriendalittlepinchofthe latestvegetablealkaloid,notoutofmalevolence,you understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in order to have an accurate idea of the effects. To do himjustice,Ithinkthathewouldtakeithimselfwith thesamereadiness. Heappearstohaveapassionfor definiteandexactknowledge.” “Veryrighttoo.” “Yes, but it may be pushed to excess. When it comestobeatingthesubjectsinthedissecting-rooms with a stick, it is certainly taking rather a bizarre shape.” “Beatingthesubjects!” “Yes,toverifyhowfarbruisesmaybeproduced afterdeath. Isawhimatitwithmyowneyes.” “Andyetyousayheisnotamedicalstudent?” “No. Heavenknowswhattheobjectsofhisstudies are. Buthereweare,andyoumustformyourownim- pressionsabouthim.”Ashespoke,weturneddown anarrowlaneandpassedthroughasmallside-door, whichopenedintoawingofthegreathospital. Itwas familiargroundtome,andIneedednoguidingaswe ascendedthebleakstonestaircaseandmadeourway downthelongcorridorwithitsvistaofwhitewashed wallanddun-coloureddoors. Nearthefurtherenda lowarchedpassagebranchedawayfromitandledto thechemicallaboratory.</s>Thiswasaloftychamber,linedandlitteredwith countless bottles. Broad, low tables were scattered about,whichbristledwithretorts,test-tubes,andlit- tle Bunsen lamps, with their blue flickering flames.</s>There was only one student in the room, who was bendingoveradistanttableabsorbedinhiswork. At thesoundofourstepsheglancedroundandsprang tohisfeetwithacryofpleasure. “I’vefoundit! I’ve foundit,”heshoutedtomycompanion,runningto- wardsuswithatest-tubeinhishand. “Ihavefounda re-agentwhichisprecipitatedbyhœmoglobin,andby nothingelse.”Hadhediscoveredagoldmine,greater delightcouldnothaveshoneuponhisfeatures.</s>“Dr.Watson,Mr.SherlockHolmes,”saidStamford, introducingus.</s>“How are you?” he said cordially, gripping my handwithastrengthforwhichIshouldhardlyhave given him credit. “You have been in Afghanistan, I perceive.”“How on earth did you know that?” I asked in astonishment.</s>“Nevermind,”saidhe,chucklingtohimself. “The question now is about hœmoglobin. No doubt you seethesignificanceofthisdiscoveryofmine?” “It is interesting, chemically, no doubt,” I an- swered,“butpractically—” “Why, man, it is the most practical medico-legal discoveryforyears. Don’tyouseethatitgivesusan infallibletestforbloodstains. Comeoverherenow!” Heseizedmebythecoat-sleeveinhiseagerness,and drewmeovertothetableatwhichhehadbeenwork- ing. “Letushavesomefreshblood,”hesaid,digging a long bodkin into his finger, and drawing off the resultingdropofbloodinachemicalpipette. “Now, I add this small quantity of blood to a litre of wa- ter. You perceive that the resulting mixture has the appearance of pure water. The proportion of blood cannotbemorethanoneinamillion. Ihavenodoubt, however,thatweshallbeabletoobtainthecharacter- isticreaction.”Ashespoke,hethrewintothevessel afewwhitecrystals,andthenaddedsomedropsofa transparentfluid. Inaninstantthecontentsassumed a dull mahogany colour, and a brownish dust was precipitatedtothebottomoftheglassjar.</s>“Ha! ha!”hecried,clappinghishands,andlook- ingasdelightedasachildwithanewtoy. “Whatdo youthinkofthat?” “Itseemstobeaverydelicatetest,”Iremarked.</s>“Beautiful! beautiful! The old Guiacum test was veryclumsyanduncertain. Soisthemicroscopicex- aminationforbloodcorpuscles. Thelatterisvalueless ifthestainsareafewhoursold. Now,thisappearsto actaswellwhetherthebloodisoldornew. Hadthis test been invented, there are hundreds of men now walkingtheearthwhowouldlongagohavepaidthe penaltyoftheircrimes.” “Indeed!”Imurmured.</s>“Criminalcasesarecontinuallyhinginguponthat onepoint. Amanissuspectedofacrimemonthsper- hapsafterithasbeencommitted. Hislinenorclothes areexamined,andbrownishstainsdiscoveredupon them. Are they blood stains, or mud stains, or rust stains,orfruitstains,orwhatarethey? Thatisaques- tion which has puzzled many an expert, and why? Becausetherewasnoreliabletest. Nowwehavethe Sherlock Holmes’ test, and there will no longer be anydifficulty.” His eyes fairly glittered as he spoke, and he put his hand over his heart and bowed as if to some ap- plaudingcrowdconjuredupbyhisimagination.</s>“Youaretobecongratulated,”Iremarked,consid- erablysurprisedathisenthusiasm.</s>“TherewasthecaseofVonBischoffatFrankfort last year. He would certainly have been hung had this test been in existence. Then there was Mason of Bradford, and the notorious Muller, and Lefevre ofMontpellier,andSamsonofnewOrleans. Icould name a score of cases in which it would have been decisive.” “Youseemtobeawalkingcalendarofcrime,”said Stamfordwithalaugh. “Youmightstartapaperon thoselines. Callitthe‘PoliceNewsofthePast.’” “Veryinterestingreadingitmightbemade,too,” remarkedSherlockHolmes,stickingasmallpieceof plasterovertheprickonhisfinger. “Ihavetobecare- ful,” he continued, turning to me with a smile, “for Idabblewithpoisonsagooddeal.”Heheldouthis handashespoke,andInoticedthatitwasallmottled over with similar pieces of plaster, and discoloured withstrongacids.</s>“We came here on business,” said Stamford, sit- tingdownonahighthree-leggedstool,andpushing anotheroneinmydirectionwithhisfoot. “Myfriend here wants to take diggings, and as you were com- plainingthatyoucouldgetnoonetogohalveswith you,IthoughtthatIhadbetterbringyoutogether.” SherlockHolmesseemeddelightedattheideaof sharinghisroomswithme. “Ihavemyeyeonasuite inBakerStreet,”hesaid,“whichwouldsuitusdown to the ground. You don’t mind the smell of strong tobacco,Ihope?” “Ialwayssmoke‘ship’s’myself,”Ianswered.</s>“That’sgoodenough. Igenerallyhavechemicals about,andoccasionallydoexperiments. Wouldthat annoyyou?” “Bynomeans.” “Letmesee—whataremyothershortcomings. I getinthedumpsattimes,anddon’topenmymouth fordaysonend. YoumustnotthinkIamsulkywhen I do that. Just let me alone, and I’ll soon be right.</s>What have you to confess now? It’s just as well for twofellowstoknowtheworstofoneanotherbefore theybegintolivetogether.” Ilaughedatthiscross-examination. “Ikeepabull pup,”Isaid,“andIobjecttorowsbecausemynerves areshaken,andIgetupatallsortsofungodlyhours, and I am extremely lazy. I have another set of vices when I’m well, but those are the principal ones at present.” “Do you include violin-playing in your category ofrows?”heasked,anxiously.“It depends on the player,” I answered. “A well- playedviolinisatreatforthegods—abadly-played one—” “Oh,that’sallright,”hecried,withamerrylaugh.</s>“Ithinkwemayconsiderthethingassettled—thatis, iftheroomsareagreeabletoyou.” “Whenshallweseethem?” “Callformehereatnoonto-morrow,andwe’llgo togetherandsettleeverything,”heanswered.</s>“Allright—noonexactly,”saidI,shakinghishand.</s>Welefthimworkingamonghischemicals,andwe walkedtogethertowardsmyhotel.</s>“Bytheway,”Iaskedsuddenly,stoppingandturn- inguponStamford,“howthedeucedidheknowthat IhadcomefromAfghanistan?” CHAP he cience T S We met next day as he had arranged, and in- spectedtheroomsatNo.221b,BakerStreet,ofwhich he had spoken at our meeting. They consisted of a couple of comfortable bed-rooms and a single large airy sitting-room, cheerfully furnished, and illumi- natedbytwobroadwindows. Sodesirableinevery way were the apartments, and so moderate did the terms seem when divided between us, that the bar- gain was concluded upon the spot, and we at once enteredintopossession. ThatveryeveningImoved my things round from the hotel, and on the follow- ingmorningSherlockHolmesfollowedmewithsev- eral boxes and portmanteaus. For a day or two we were busily employed in unpacking and laying out our property to the best advantage. That done, we graduallybegantosettledownandtoaccommodate ourselvestoournewsurroundings.</s>Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with. Hewasquietinhisways,andhishabitswere regular. It was rare for him to be up after ten at night, and he had invariably breakfasted and gone out before I rose in the morning. Sometimes he spenthisdayatthechemicallaboratory,sometimesin thedissecting-rooms,andoccasionallyinlongwalks, whichappearedtotakehimintothelowestportions My companion smiled an enigmatical smile.</s>“That’s just his little peculiarity,” he said. “A good many people have wanted to know how he finds thingsout.” “Oh! amysteryisit?”Icried,rubbingmyhands.</s>“Thisisverypiquant. Iammuchobligedtoyoufor bringingustogether. ‘Theproperstudyofmankind isman,’youknow.” “Youmuststudyhim,then,”Stamfordsaid,ashe bademegood-bye. “You’llfindhimaknottyproblem, though. I’llwagerhelearnsmoreaboutyouthanyou abouthim. Good-bye.” “Good-bye,”Ianswered,andstrolledontomyho- tel,considerablyinterestedinmynewacquaintance.</s>TER II.</s>f eduction O D of the City. Nothing could exceed his energy when the working fit was upon him; but now and again a reaction would seize him, and for days on end he would lie upon the sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or moving a muscle from morning to night. On these occasions I have noticed such a dreamy, vacant expression in his eyes, that I might have suspected him of being addicted to the use of somenarcotic,hadnotthetemperanceandcleanliness ofhiswholelifeforbiddensuchanotion.</s>Astheweekswentby,myinterestinhimandmy curiosity as to his aims in life, gradually deepened andincreased. Hisverypersonandappearancewere suchastostriketheattentionofthemostcasualob- server. In height he was rather over six feet, and so excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably taller. Hiseyesweresharpandpiercing,saveduring thoseintervalsoftorportowhichIhavealluded;and his thin, hawk-like nose gave his whole expression an air of alertness and decision. His chin, too, had theprominenceandsquarenesswhichmarktheman of determination. His hands were invariably blot- tedwithinkandstainedwithchemicals,yethewas possessedofextraordinarydelicacyoftouch,asIfre- quentlyhadoccasiontoobservewhenIwatchedhimmanipulatinghisfragilephilosophicalinstruments.</s>Thereadermaysetmedownasahopelessbusy- body,whenIconfesshowmuchthismanstimulated mycuriosity,andhowoftenIendeavouredtobreak through the reticence which he showed on all that concerned himself. Before pronouncing judgment, however, be it remembered, how objectless was my life,andhowlittletherewastoengagemyattention.</s>Myhealthforbademefromventuringoutunlessthe weatherwasexceptionallygenial,andIhadnofriends who would call upon me and break the monotony of my daily existence. Under these circumstances, I eagerlyhailedthelittlemysterywhichhungaround my companion, and spent much of my time in en- deavouringtounravelit.</s>He was not studying medicine. He had himself, inreplytoaquestion,confirmedStamford’sopinion uponthatpoint. Neitherdidheappeartohavepur- sued any course of reading which might fit him for a degree in science or any other recognized portal which would give him an entrance into the learned world. Yethiszealforcertainstudieswasremarkable, andwithineccentriclimitshisknowledgewassoex- traordinarilyampleandminutethathisobservations havefairlyastoundedme. Surelynomanwouldwork sohardorattainsuchpreciseinformationunlesshe hadsomedefiniteendinview. Desultoryreadersare seldomremarkablefortheexactnessoftheirlearning.</s>Nomanburdenshismindwithsmallmattersunless hehassomeverygoodreasonfordoingso.</s>Hisignorancewasasremarkableashisknowledge.</s>Ofcontemporaryliterature,philosophyandpolitics heappearedtoknownexttonothing. Uponmyquot- ing Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest way whohemightbeandwhathehaddone. Mysurprise reachedaclimax,however,whenIfoundincidentally that he was ignorant of the Copernican Theory and ofthecompositionoftheSolarSystem. Thatanycivi- lizedhumanbeinginthisnineteenthcenturyshould not be aware that the earth travelled round the sun appearedtobetomesuchanextraordinaryfactthat Icouldhardlyrealizeit.</s>“Youappeartobeastonished,”hesaid,smilingat myexpressionofsurprise. “NowthatIdoknowitI shalldomybesttoforgetit.” “Toforgetit!” “Yousee,”heexplained,“Iconsiderthataman’s brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose.</s>A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comesacross,sothattheknowledgewhichmightbe usefultohimgetscrowdedout,oratbestisjumbled up with a lot of other things so that he has a diffi- culty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workmanisverycarefulindeedastowhathetakes intohisbrain-attic. Hewillhavenothingbutthetools whichmayhelphimindoinghiswork,butofthese hehasalargeassortment,andallinthemostperfect order. Itisamistaketothinkthatthatlittleroomhas elasticwallsandcandistendtoanyextent. Depend uponittherecomesatimewhenforeveryaddition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. Itisofthehighestimportance,therefore,not tohaveuselessfactselbowingouttheusefulones.” “ButtheSolarSystem!”Iprotested.</s>“Whatthedeuceisittome?”heinterruptedimpa- tiently;“yousaythatwegoroundthesun. Ifwewent roundthemoonitwouldnotmakeapennyworthof differencetomeortomywork.” Iwasonthepointofaskinghimwhatthatwork might be, but something in his manner showed me that the question would be an unwelcome one. I ponderedoverourshortconversation,however,and endeavouredtodrawmydeductionsfromit. Hesaid that hewould acquireno knowledgewhich did not bear upon his object. Therefore all the knowledge whichhepossessed was suchaswouldbeuseful to him. I enumerated in my own mind all the various points upon which he had shown me that he was exceptionallywell-informed. Ieventookapenciland jotted them down. I could not help smiling at the document when I had completed it. It ran in this way— SherlockHolmes—hislimits.</s>1. KnowledgeofLiterature.—Nil.</s>2. Philosophy.—Nil.</s>3. Astronomy.—Nil.</s>4. Politics.—Feeble.</s>5. Botany.—Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium,andpoisonsgenerally. Knowsnothing ofpracticalgardening.</s>6. Geology.—Practical, but limited. Tells at a glance different soils from each other. After walkshasshownmesplashesuponhistrousers, andtoldmebytheircolourandconsistencein whatpartofLondonhehadreceivedthem.</s>7. Chemistry.—Profound.</s>8. Anatomy.—Accurate,butunsystematic.</s>9. SensationalLiterature.—Immense. Heappears toknoweverydetailofeveryhorrorperpetrated inthecentury.</s>10. Playstheviolinwell.11. Is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman.</s>12. HasagoodpracticalknowledgeofBritishlaw.</s>WhenIhadgotsofarinmylistIthrewitintothe fireindespair. “IfIcanonlyfindwhatthefellowis drivingatbyreconcilingalltheseaccomplishments, and discovering a calling which needs them all,” I saidtomyself,“Imayaswellgiveuptheattemptat once.” IseethatIhavealludedabovetohispowersupon the violin. These were very remarkable, but as ec- centric as all his other accomplishments. That he could play pieces, and difficult pieces, I knew well, because at my request he has played me some of Mendelssohn’s Lieder, and other favourites. When left to himself, however, he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air. Leaning back inhis arm-chairof anevening, hewould close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle which was thrown across his knee. Sometimes the chords were sonorous and melancholy. Occasionally they werefantasticandcheerful. Clearlytheyreflectedthe thoughtswhichpossessedhim,butwhetherthemu- sicaidedthosethoughts,orwhethertheplayingwas simplytheresultofawhimorfancywasmorethanI coulddetermine. Imighthaverebelledagainstthese exasperatingsoloshaditnotbeenthatheusuallyter- minatedthembyplayinginquicksuccessionawhole series of my favourite airs as a slight compensation forthetrialuponmypatience.</s>During the first week or so we had no callers, andIhadbeguntothinkthatmycompanionwasas friendlessamanasIwasmyself. Presently,however, I found that he had many acquaintances, and those inthemostdifferentclassesofsociety. Therewasone littlesallowrat-faced,dark-eyedfellowwhowasin- troducedtomeasMr.Lestrade,andwhocamethree orfourtimesinasingleweek. Onemorningayoung girl called, fashionably dressed, and stayed for half anhourormore. Thesameafternoonbroughtagrey- headed,seedyvisitor,lookinglikeaJewpedlar,who appeared to me to be much excited, and who was closely followed by a slipshod elderly woman. On anotheroccasionanoldwhite-hairedgentlemanhad aninterviewwithmycompanion;andonanothera railwayporterinhisvelveteenuniform. Whenanyof thesenondescriptindividualsputinanappearance, SherlockHolmesusedtobegfortheuseofthesitting- room,andIwouldretiretomybed-room. Healways apologizedtomeforputtingmetothisinconvenience.</s>“I have to use this room as a place of business,” he said,“andthesepeoplearemyclients.”AgainIhad anopportunityofaskinghimapointblankquestion, and again my delicacy prevented me from forcing anothermantoconfideinme. Iimaginedatthetime thathehadsomestrongreasonfornotalludingtoit, but he soon dispelled the idea by coming round to thesubjectofhisownaccord.</s>Itwasuponthe4thofMarch,asIhavegoodrea- son to remember, that I rose somewhat earlier than usual, and found that Sherlock Holmes had not yet finished his breakfast. The landlady had become so accustomedtomylatehabitsthatmyplacehadnot beenlaidnormycoffeeprepared. Withtheunreason- able petulance of mankind I rang the bell and gave acurtintimationthatIwasready. ThenIpickedup a magazine from the table and attempted to while awaythetimewithit,whilemycompanionmunched silently at his toast. One of the articles had a pencil markattheheading,andInaturallybegantorunmy eyethroughit.</s>Its somewhat ambitious title was “The Book of Life,”anditattemptedtoshowhowmuchanobser- vantmanmightlearnbyanaccurateandsystematic examinationofallthatcameinhisway. Itstruckme asbeingaremarkablemixtureofshrewdnessandof absurdity. Thereasoningwascloseandintense,but thedeductionsappearedtometobefar-fetchedand exaggerated. The writer claimed by a momentary expression,atwitchofamuscleoraglanceofaneye, tofathomaman’sinmostthoughts. Deceit,according tohim,wasanimpossibilityinthecaseofonetrained to observation and analysis. His conclusions were as infallible as so many propositions of Euclid. So startlingwouldhisresultsappeartotheuninitiated thatuntiltheylearnedtheprocessesbywhichhehad arrived at them they might well consider him as a necromancer.</s>“Fromadropofwater,”saidthewriter,“alogician couldinferthepossibilityofanAtlanticoraNiagara withouthavingseenorheardofoneortheother. So alllifeisagreatchain,thenatureofwhichisknown whenever we are shown a single link of it. Like all otherarts,theScienceofDeductionandAnalysisis onewhichcanonlybeacquiredbylongandpatient studynorislifelongenoughtoallowanymortalto attainthehighestpossibleperfectioninit. Beforeturn- ingtothosemoralandmentalaspectsofthematter whichpresentthegreatestdifficulties,lettheenquirer begin by mastering more elementary problems. Let him,onmeetingafellow-mortal,learnataglanceto distinguish the history of the man, and the trade or profession to which he belongs. Puerile as such anexercisemayseem,itsharpensthefacultiesofobser- vation, and teaches one where to look and what to look for. By a man’s finger nails, by his coat-sleeve, byhisboot,byhistrouserknees,bythecallositiesof his forefinger and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt cuffs—by each of these things a man’s calling isplainlyrevealed. Thatallunitedshouldfailtoen- lightenthecompetentenquirerinanycaseisalmost inconceivable.” “What ineffable twaddle!” I cried, slapping the magazinedownonthetable,“Ineverreadsuchrub- bishinmylife.” “Whatisit?”askedSherlockHolmes.</s>“Why,thisarticle,”Isaid,pointingatitwithmy eggspoonasIsatdowntomybreakfast. “Iseethat you have read it since you have marked it. I don’t denythatitissmartlywritten. Itirritatesmethough.</s>Itisevidentlythetheoryofsomearm-chairlounger whoevolvesalltheseneatlittleparadoxesintheseclu- sionofhisownstudy. Itisnotpractical. Ishouldlike toseehimclappeddowninathirdclasscarriageon theUnderground,andaskedtogivethetradesofall his fellow-travellers. I would lay a thousand to one againsthim.” “Youwouldloseyourmoney,”SherlockHolmes remarkedcalmly. “AsforthearticleIwroteitmyself.” “You!” “Yes, I have a turn both for observation and for deduction. ThetheorieswhichIhaveexpressedthere, andwhichappeartoyoutobesochimericalarereally extremelypractical—sopracticalthatIdependupon themformybreadandcheese.” “Andhow?”Iaskedinvoluntarily.</s>“Well, I have a trade of my own. I suppose I am theonlyoneintheworld. I’maconsultingdetective, ifyoucanunderstandwhatthatis. HereinLondon we have lots of Government detectives and lots of private ones. When these fellows are at fault they come to me, and I manage to put them on the right scent. Theylayalltheevidencebeforeme,andIam generally able, by the help of my knowledge of the historyofcrime,tosetthemstraight. Thereisastrong familyresemblanceaboutmisdeeds,andifyouhave all the details of a thousand at your finger ends, it is odd if you can’t unravel the thousand and first.</s>Lestrade is a well-known detective. He got himself intoafogrecentlyoveraforgerycase,andthatwas whatbroughthimhere.” “Andtheseotherpeople?” “Theyaremostlysentonbyprivateinquiryagen- cies. They are all people who are in trouble about something,andwantalittleenlightening. Ilistento their story, they listen to my comments, and then I pocketmyfee.” “But do you mean to say,” I said, “that without leavingyourroomyoucanunravelsomeknotwhich othermencanmakenothingof,althoughtheyhave seeneverydetailforthemselves?” “Quite so. I have a kind of intuition that way.</s>Nowandagainacaseturnsupwhichisalittlemore complex. ThenIhavetobustleaboutandseethings with my own eyes. You see I have a lot of special knowledgewhichIapplytotheproblem,andwhich facilitatesmatterswonderfully. Thoserulesofdeduc- tion laid down in that article which aroused your scorn,areinvaluabletomeinpracticalwork. Obser- vationwithmeissecondnature. Youappearedtobe surprisedwhenItoldyou,onourfirstmeeting,that youhadcomefromAfghanistan.” “Youweretold,nodoubt.” “Nothing of the sort. I knew you came from Afghanistan. From long habit the train of thoughts ransoswiftlythroughmymind,thatIarrivedatthe conclusionwithoutbeingconsciousofintermediate steps. There were such steps, however. The train of reasoningran,‘Hereisagentlemanofamedicaltype, but with the air of a military man. Clearly an army doctor, then. He has just come from the tropics, for hisfaceisdark,andthatisnotthenaturaltintofhis skin,forhiswristsarefair. Hehasundergonehard- ship and sickness, as his haggard face says clearly.</s>His left arm has been injured. He holds it in a stiff andunnaturalmanner. Whereinthetropicscouldan English army doctor have seen much hardship and gothisarmwounded? ClearlyinAfghanistan.’ The whole train of thought did not occupy a second. I thenremarkedthatyoucamefromAfghanistan,and youwereastonished.” “Itissimpleenoughasyouexplainit,”Isaid,smil- ing. “YouremindmeofEdgarAllenPoe’sDupin. I hadnoideathatsuchindividualsdidexistoutsideof stories.” SherlockHolmesroseandlithispipe. “Nodoubt youthinkthatyouarecomplimentingmeincompar- ingmetoDupin,”heobserved. “Now,inmyopinion, Dupinwasaveryinferiorfellow. Thattrickofhisof breakinginonhisfriends’thoughtswithanapropos remark after a quarter of an hour’s silence is really veryshowyandsuperficial. Hehadsomeanalytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means such a phenomenonasPoeappearedtoimagine.” “Have you read Gaboriau’s works?” I asked.</s>“DoesLecoqcomeuptoyourideaofadetective?”SherlockHolmessniffedsardonically. “Lecoqwas amiserablebungler,”hesaid,inanangryvoice;“he hadonlyonethingtorecommendhim,andthatwas his energy. That book made me positively ill. The questionwashowtoidentifyanunknownprisoner. I couldhavedoneitintwenty-fourhours. Lecoqtook six months or so. It might be made a text-book for detectivestoteachthemwhattoavoid.” I felt rather indignant at having two characters whomIhadadmiredtreatedinthiscavalierstyle. I walked over to the window, and stood looking out intothebusystreet. “Thisfellowmaybeveryclever,” Isaidtomyself,“butheiscertainlyveryconceited.” “There are no crimes and no criminals in these days,”hesaid,querulously. “Whatistheuseofhav- ingbrainsinourprofession? IknowwellthatIhave itinmetomakemynamefamous. Nomanlivesor haseverlivedwhohasbroughtthesameamountof studyandofnaturaltalenttothedetectionofcrime whichIhavedone. Andwhatistheresult? Thereis nocrimetodetect,or,atmost,somebunglingvillany with a motive so transparent that even a Scotland Yardofficialcanseethroughit.” Iwasstillannoyedathisbumptiousstyleofcon- versation. Ithoughtitbesttochangethetopic.</s>“Iwonderwhatthatfellowislookingfor?”Iasked, pointingtoastalwart,plainly-dressedindividualwho waswalkingslowlydowntheothersideofthestreet, CHAP he auriston T L IconfessthatIwasconsiderablystartledbythis fresh proof of the practical nature of my compan- ion’stheories. Myrespectforhispowersofanalysis increasedwondrously. Therestillremainedsomelurk- ing suspicion in my mind, however, that the whole thing was a pre-arranged episode, intended to daz- zleme,thoughwhatearthlyobjecthecouldhavein taking me in was past my comprehension. When I lookedathimhehadfinishedreadingthenote,and hiseyeshadassumedthevacant,lack-lustreexpres- sionwhichshowedmentalabstraction.</s>“Howintheworlddidyoudeducethat?”Iasked.</s>looking anxiously at the numbers. He had a large blue envelope in his hand, and was evidently the bearerofamessage.</s>“YoumeantheretiredsergeantofMarines,”said SherlockHolmes.</s>“Brag and bounce!” thought I to myself. “He knowsthatIcannotverifyhisguess.” Thethoughthadhardlypassedthroughmymind whenthemanwhomwewerewatchingcaughtsight ofthenumberonourdoor,andranrapidlyacrossthe roadway. Weheardaloudknock,adeepvoicebelow, andheavystepsascendingthestair.</s>“ForMr.SherlockHolmes,”hesaid,steppinginto theroomandhandingmyfriendtheletter.</s>Herewasanopportunityoftakingtheconceitout ofhim. Helittlethought ofthiswhenhemade that random shot. “May I ask, my lad,” I said, in the blandestvoice,“whatyourtrademaybe?” “Commissionaire,sir,”hesaid,gruffly. “Uniform awayforrepairs.” “Andyouwere?”Iasked,withaslightlymalicious glanceatmycompanion.</s>“Asergeant,sir,RoyalMarineLightInfantry,sir.</s>Noanswer? Right,sir.” Heclickedhisheelstogether,raisedhishandina salute,andwasgone.</s>TER III.</s>arden ystery G M “Deducewhat?”saidhe,petulantly.</s>“Why,thathewasaretiredsergeantofMarines.” “I have no time for trifles,” he answered, brusquely; then with a smile, “Excuse my rudeness.</s>Youbrokethethreadofmythoughts;butperhapsit is as well. So you actually were not able to see that thatmanwasasergeantofMarines?” “No,indeed.” “It was easier to know it than to explain why I knewit. Ifyouwereaskedtoprovethattwoandtwo made four, you might find some difficulty, and yet youarequitesureofthefact. EvenacrossthestreetIcouldseeagreatblueanchortattooedontheback of the fellow’s hand. That smacked of the sea. He hadamilitarycarriage,however,andregulationside whiskers. Therewehavethemarine. Hewasaman with some amount of self-importance and a certain air of command. You must have observed the way in which he held his head and swung his cane. A steady,respectable,middle-agedman,too,ontheface ofhim—allfactswhichledmetobelievethathehad beenasergeant.” “Wonderful!”Iejaculated.</s>“Commonplace,”saidHolmes,thoughIthought fromhisexpressionthathewaspleasedatmyevident surpriseandadmiration. “Isaidjustnowthatthere werenocriminals. ItappearsthatIamwrong—look at this!” He threw me over the note which the com- missionairehadbrought.</s>“Why,” I cried, as I cast my eye over it, “this is terrible!” “Itdoesseemtobealittleoutofthecommon,”he remarked,calmly. “Wouldyoumindreadingittome aloud?” ThisistheletterwhichIreadtohim— “MydearMr.SherlockHolmes: “Therehasbeenabadbusinessduring thenightat3,LauristonGardens,offthe BrixtonRoad. Ourmanonthebeatsawa lightthereabouttwointhemorning,and asthehousewasanemptyone,suspected thatsomethingwasamiss. Hefoundthe door open, and in the front room, which is bare of furniture, discovered the body ofagentleman,welldressed,andhaving cards in his pocket bearing the name of ‘EnochJ.Drebber,Cleveland,Ohio,U.S.A.’ There had been no robbery, nor is there any evidence as to how the man met his death. There are marks of blood in the room,butthereisnowounduponhisper- son. We are at a loss as to how he came into the empty house; indeed, the whole affairisapuzzler. Ifyoucancomeround tothehouseanytimebeforetwelve,you will find me there. I have left everything in statu quo until I hear from you. If you areunabletocomeIshallgiveyoufuller details,andwouldesteemitagreatkind- ness if you would favour me with your opinion.</s>—“Yoursfaithfully, “TobiasGregson.” “GregsonisthesmartestoftheScotlandYarders,” my friend remarked; “he and Lestrade are the pick of a bad lot. They are both quick and energetic, but conventional—shockinglyso. Theyhavetheirknives into one another, too. They are as jealous as a pair ofprofessionalbeauties. Therewillbesomefunover thiscaseiftheyarebothputuponthescent.” Iwasamazedatthecalmwayinwhichherippled on. “Surelythereisnotamomenttobelost,”Icried, “shallIgoandorderyouacab?” “I’m not sure about whether I shall go. I am the most incurably lazy devil that ever stood in shoe leather—that is, when the fit is on me, for I can be spryenoughattimes.” “Why, it is just such a chance as you have been longingfor.” “Mydearfellow,whatdoesitmattertome. Sup- posingIunravelthewholematter, youmaybesure that Gregson, Lestrade, and Co. will pocket all the credit. Thatcomesofbeinganunofficialpersonage.” “Buthebegsyoutohelphim.” “Yes. He knows that I am his superior, and ac- knowledgesittome;buthewouldcuthistongueout beforehewouldownittoanythirdperson. However, we may as well go and have a look. I shall work it outonmyownhook. ImayhavealaughatthemifI havenothingelse. Comeon!” Hehustledonhisovercoat,andbustledaboutina waythatshowedthatanenergeticfithadsuperseded theapatheticone.</s>“Getyourhat,”hesaid.</s>“Youwishmetocome?” “Yes,ifyouhavenothingbettertodo.”Aminute laterwewerebothinahansom,drivingfuriouslyfor theBrixtonRoad.</s>It was a foggy, cloudy morning, and a dun- colouredveilhungoverthehouse-tops,lookinglike the reflection of the mud-coloured streets beneath.</s>Mycompanionwasinthebestofspirits,andprattled away about Cremona fiddles, and the difference be- tweenaStradivariusandanAmati. Asformyself,I was silent, for the dull weather and the melancholy business upon which we were engaged, depressed myspirits.</s>“Youdon’tseemtogivemuchthoughttothemat- terinhand,”Isaidatlast,interruptingHolmes’mu- sicaldisquisition.</s>“No data yet,” he answered. “It is a capital mis- take to theorize before you have all the evidence. It biasesthejudgment.”“Youwillhaveyourdatasoon,”Iremarked,point- ingwithmyfinger;“thisistheBrixtonRoad,andthat isthehouse,ifIamnotverymuchmistaken.” “Soitis. Stop,driver,stop!”Wewerestillahun- dred yards or so from it, but he insisted upon our alighting,andwefinishedourjourneyuponfoot.</s>Number3,LauristonGardensworeanill-omened and minatory look. It was one of four which stood back some little way from the street, two being oc- cupied and two empty. The latter looked out with three tiers of vacant melancholy windows, which were blank and dreary, save that here and there a “ToLet”cardhaddevelopedlikeacataractuponthe blearedpanes. Asmallgardensprinkledoverwitha scatterederuptionofsicklyplantsseparatedeachof thesehousesfromthestreet,andwastraversedbya narrowpathway,yellowishincolour,andconsisting apparently of a mixture of clay and of gravel. The wholeplacewasverysloppyfromtherainwhichhad fallen through the night. The garden was bounded byathree-footbrickwallwithafringeofwoodrails upon the top, and against this wall was leaning a stalwartpoliceconstable,surroundedbyasmallknot ofloafers,whocranedtheirnecksandstrainedtheir eyesinthevainhopeofcatchingsomeglimpseofthe proceedingswithin.</s>I had imagined that Sherlock Holmes would at once have hurried into the house and plunged into astudyofthemystery. Nothingappearedtobefur- ther from his intention. With an air of nonchalance which,underthecircumstances,seemedtometobor- der upon affectation, he lounged up and down the pavement,andgazedvacantlyattheground,thesky, the opposite houses and the line of railings. Hav- ingfinishedhisscrutiny,heproceededslowlydown the path, or rather down the fringe of grass which flanked the path, keeping his eyes riveted upon the ground. Twicehestopped,andonceIsawhimsmile, and heard him utter an exclamation of satisfaction.</s>There were many marks of footsteps upon the wet clayeysoil,butsincethepolicehadbeencomingand goingoverit,Iwasunabletoseehowmycompanion couldhopetolearnanythingfromit. StillIhadhad such extraordinary evidence of the quickness of his perceptivefaculties,thatIhadnodoubtthathecould seeagreatdealwhichwashiddenfromme.</s>At the door of the house we were met by a tall, white-faced, flaxen-haired man, with a notebook in his hand, who rushed forward and wrung my com- panion’s hand with effusion. “It is indeed kind of you to come,” he said, “I have had everything left untouched.” “Except that!” my friend answered, pointing at thepathway. “Ifaherdofbuffaloeshadpassedalong there could not be a greater mess. No doubt, how- ever,youhaddrawnyourownconclusions,Gregson, beforeyoupermittedthis.” “Ihavehadsomuchtodoinsidethehouse,”the detectivesaidevasively. “Mycolleague,Mr.Lestrade, ishere. Ihadrelieduponhimtolookafterthis.” Holmes glanced at me and raised his eyebrows sardonically. “With two such men as yourself and Lestradeupontheground,therewillnotbemuchfor athirdpartytofindout,”hesaid.</s>Gregsonrubbedhishandsinaself-satisfiedway.</s>“I think we have done all that can be done,” he an- swered; “it’s a queer case though, and I knew your tasteforsuchthings.” “Youdidnotcomehereinacab?”askedSherlock Holmes.</s>“No,sir.” “NorLestrade?” “No,sir.” “Thenletusgoandlookattheroom.”Withwhich inconsequent remark he strode on into the house, followed by Gregson, whose features expressed his astonishment.</s>A short passage, bare planked and dusty, led to thekitchenandoffices. Twodoorsopenedoutofitto theleftandtotheright. Oneofthesehadobviously beenclosedformanyweeks. Theotherbelongedto thedining-room,whichwastheapartmentinwhich themysteriousaffairhadoccurred. Holmeswalked in, and I followed him with that subdued feeling at myheartwhichthepresenceofdeathinspires.</s>Itwasalargesquareroom,lookingallthelarger from the absence of all furniture. A vulgar flaring paperadornedthewalls,butitwasblotchedinplaces with mildew, and here and there great strips had becomedetachedandhungdown,exposingtheyel- lowplasterbeneath. Oppositethedoorwasashowy fireplace,surmountedbyamantelpieceofimitation white marble. On one corner of this was stuck the stumpofaredwaxcandle. Thesolitarywindowwas sodirtythatthelightwashazyanduncertain,giving adullgreytingetoeverything,whichwasintensified by the thick layer of dust which coated the whole apartment.</s>AllthesedetailsIobservedafterwards. Atpresent my attention was centred upon the single grim mo- tionlessfigurewhichlaystretchedupontheboards,with vacant sightless eyes staring up at the dis- coloured ceiling. It was that of a man about forty- threeorforty-fouryearsofage,middle-sized,broad shouldered,withcrispcurlingblackhair,andashort stubblybeard. Hewasdressedinaheavybroadcloth frockcoatandwaistcoat,withlight-colouredtrousers, and immaculate collar and cuffs. A top hat, well brushedandtrim,wasplaceduponthefloorbeside him. Hishandswereclenchedandhisarmsthrown abroad, while his lower limbs were interlocked as though his death struggle had been a grievous one.</s>Onhisrigidfacetherestoodanexpressionofhorror, and as it seemed to me, of hatred, such as I have neverseenuponhumanfeatures. Thismalignantand terriblecontortion,combinedwiththelowforehead, bluntnose,andprognathousjawgavethedeadman asingularlysimiousandape-likeappearance,which was increased by his writhing, unnatural posture. I haveseendeathinmanyforms,butneverhasitap- pearedtomeinamorefearsomeaspectthaninthat darkgrimyapartment,whichlookedoutupononeof themainarteriesofsuburbanLondon.</s>Lestrade, lean and ferret-like as ever, was stand- ingbythedoorway,andgreetedmycompanionand myself.</s>“Thiscasewillmakeastir,sir,”heremarked. “It beatsanythingIhaveseen,andIamnochicken.” “Thereisnoclue?”saidGregson.</s>“Noneatall,”chimedinLestrade.</s>SherlockHolmesapproachedthebody,and,kneel- ing down, examined it intently. “You are sure that thereisnowound?”heasked,pointingtonumerous goutsandsplashesofbloodwhichlayallround.</s>“Positive!”criedbothdetectives.</s>“Then, of course, this blood belongs to a second individual—presumablythemurderer,ifmurderhas beencommitted. Itremindsmeofthecircumstances attendant on the death of Van Jansen, in Utrecht, in theyear’34. Doyourememberthecase,Gregson?” “No,sir.” “Readitup—youreallyshould. Thereisnothing newunderthesun. Ithasallbeendonebefore.” Ashespoke,hisnimblefingerswereflyinghere, there,andeverywhere,feeling,pressing,unbuttoning, examining, while his eyes wore the same far-away expressionwhichIhavealreadyremarkedupon. So swiftly was the examination made, that one would hardlyhaveguessedtheminutenesswithwhichitwas conducted. Finally, he sniffed the dead man’s lips, and then glanced at the soles of his patent leather boots.</s>“Hehasnotbeenmovedatall?”heasked.</s>“Nomorethanwasnecessaryforthepurposesof ourexamination.” “Youcantakehimtothemortuarynow,”hesaid.</s>“Thereisnothingmoretobelearned.” Gregson had a stretcher and four men at hand.</s>At his call they entered the room, and the stranger wasliftedandcarriedout. Astheyraisedhim,aring tinkled down and rolled across the floor. Lestrade grabbeditupandstaredatitwithmystifiedeyes.</s>“There’s been a woman here,” he cried. “It’s a woman’swedding-ring.” Hehelditout,ashespoke,uponthepalmofhis hand. We all gathered round him and gazed at it.</s>Therecouldbenodoubtthatthatcircletofplaingold hadonceadornedthefingerofabride.</s>“This complicates matters,” said Gregson.</s>“Heaven knows, they were complicated enough be- fore.” “You’resureitdoesn’tsimplifythem?”observed Holmes. “There’snothingtobelearnedbystaringat it. Whatdidyoufindinhispockets?” “We have it all here,” said Gregson, pointing to a litter of objects upon one of the bottom steps of thestairs. “Agoldwatch,No.97163,byBarraud,of London. Gold Albert chain, very heavy and solid.</s>Goldring,withmasonicdevice. Goldpin—bull-dog’s head,withrubiesaseyes. Russianleathercard-case, with cards of Enoch J. Drebber of Cleveland, corre- spondingwiththeE.J.D.uponthelinen. Nopurse, but loose money to the extent of seven pounds thir- teen. PocketeditionofBoccaccio’s‘Decameron,’with name of Joseph Stangerson upon the fly-leaf. Two letters—one addressed to E. J. Drebber and one to JosephStangerson.” “Atwhataddress?” “AmericanExchange,Strand—tobelefttillcalled for. They are both from the Guion Steamship Com- pany,andrefertothesailingoftheirboatsfromLiver- pool. Itisclearthatthisunfortunatemanwasabout toreturntoNewYork.” “Have you made any inquiries as to this man, Stangerson?” “I did it at once, sir,” said Gregson. “I have had advertisementssenttoallthenewspapers,andoneof mymenhasgonetotheAmericanExchange,buthe hasnotreturnedyet.”“HaveyousenttoCleveland?” “Wetelegraphedthismorning.” “Howdidyouwordyourinquiries?” “Wesimplydetailedthecircumstances,andsaid that we should be glad of any information which couldhelpus.” “You did not ask for particulars on any point whichappearedtoyoutobecrucial?” “IaskedaboutStangerson.” “Nothingelse? Istherenocircumstanceonwhich this whole case appears to hinge? Will you not tele- graphagain?” “IhavesaidallIhavetosay,”saidGregson,inan offendedvoice.</s>Sherlock Holmes chuckled to himself, and ap- peared to be about to make some remark, when Lestrade,whohadbeeninthefrontroomwhilewe wereholdingthisconversationinthehall,reappeared uponthescene,rubbinghishandsinapompousand self-satisfiedmanner.</s>“Mr.Gregson,”hesaid,“Ihavejustmadeadiscov- eryofthehighestimportance,andonewhichwould havebeenoverlookedhadInotmadeacarefulexam- inationofthewalls.” Thelittleman’seyessparkledashespoke,andhe was evidently in a state of suppressed exultation at havingscoredapointagainsthiscolleague.</s>“Comehere,”hesaid,bustlingbackintotheroom, theatmosphereofwhichfeltclearersincetheremoval ofitsghastlyinmate. “Now,standthere!” He struck a match on his boot and held it up againstthewall.</s>“Lookatthat!”hesaid,triumphantly.</s>I have remarked that the paper had fallen away inparts. Inthisparticularcorneroftheroomalarge piecehadpeeledoff,leavingayellowsquareofcoarse plastering. Acrossthisbarespacetherewasscrawled inblood-redlettersasingleword— RACHE.</s>“Whatdoyouthinkofthat?”criedthedetective, withtheairofashowmanexhibitinghisshow. “This wasoverlookedbecauseitwasinthedarkestcorner oftheroom,andnoonethoughtoflookingthere. The murderer has written it with his or her own blood.</s>See this smear where it has trickled down the wall! Thatdisposesoftheideaofsuicideanyhow. Whywas thatcornerchosentowriteiton? Iwilltellyou. See thatcandleonthemantelpiece. Itwaslitatthetime, and if it was lit this corner would be the brightest insteadofthedarkestportionofthewall.” “Andwhatdoesitmeannowthatyouhavefound it?”askedGregsoninadepreciatoryvoice.</s>“Mean? Why,itmeansthatthewriterwasgoing to put the female name Rachel, but was disturbed before he or she had time to finish. You mark my words, when this case comes to be cleared up you willfindthatawomannamedRachelhassomething to do with it. It’s all very well for you to laugh, Mr.</s>SherlockHolmes. Youmaybeverysmartandclever, but the old hound is the best, when all is said and done.” “I really beg your pardon!” said my companion, whohadruffledthelittleman’stemperbybursting intoanexplosionoflaughter. “Youcertainlyhavethe creditofbeingthefirstofustofindthisout,and,as you say, it bears every mark of having been written bytheotherparticipantinlastnight’smystery. Ihave nothadtimetoexaminethisroomyet,butwithyour permissionIshalldosonow.” As he spoke, he whipped a tape measure and a largeroundmagnifyingglassfromhispocket. With thesetwoimplementshetrottednoiselesslyaboutthe room,sometimesstopping,occasionallykneeling,and once lying flat upon his face. So engrossed was he withhisoccupationthatheappearedtohaveforgotten ourpresence,forhechatteredawaytohimselfunder hisbreaththewholetime,keepinguparunningfire ofexclamations,groans,whistles,andlittlecriessug- gestiveofencouragementandofhope. AsIwatched him I was irresistibly reminded of a pure-blooded well-trained foxhound as it dashes backwards and forwardsthroughthecovert,whininginitseagerness, until it comes across the lost scent. For twenty min- utesormorehecontinuedhisresearches,measuring withthemostexactcarethedistancebetweenmarks whichwereentirelyinvisibletome,andoccasionally applyinghistapetothewallsinanequallyincompre- hensible manner. In one place he gathered up very carefullyalittlepileofgreydustfromthefloor,and packeditawayinanenvelope. Finally,heexamined with his glass the word upon the wall, going over everyletterofitwiththemostminuteexactness. This done,heappearedtobesatisfied,forhereplacedhis tapeandhisglassinhispocket.</s>“They say that genius is an infinite capacity for takingpains,”heremarkedwithasmile. “It’savery baddefinition,butitdoesapplytodetectivework.” Gregson and Lestrade had watched the manœu- vres of their amateur companion with considerablecuriosityandsomecontempt. Theyevidentlyfailedto appreciatethefact,whichIhadbeguntorealize,that Sherlock Holmes’ smallest actions were all directed towardssomedefiniteandpracticalend.</s>“Whatdoyouthinkofit,sir?”theybothasked.</s>“Itwouldberobbingyouofthecreditofthecase ifIwastopresumetohelpyou,”remarkedmyfriend.</s>“Youaredoingsowellnowthatitwouldbeapityfor anyone to interfere.” There was a world of sarcasm in his voice as he spoke. “If you will let me know howyourinvestigationsgo,”hecontinued,“Ishallbe happytogiveyouanyhelpIcan. InthemeantimeI shouldliketospeaktotheconstablewhofoundthe body. Canyougivemehisnameandaddress?” Lestradeglancedathisnote-book. “JohnRance,” hesaid. “Heisoffdutynow. Youwillfindhimat46, AudleyCourt,KenningtonParkGate.” Holmestookanoteoftheaddress.</s>“Comealong,Doctor,”hesaid;“weshallgoand look him up. I’ll tell you one thing which may help you in the case,” he continued, turning to the two CHAP hat ohn an W J R Itwasoneo’clockwhenweleftNo.3,Lauriston Gardens. SherlockHolmesledmetothenearesttele- graphoffice,whencehedispatchedalongtelegram.</s>Hethenhailedacab,andorderedthedrivertotake ustotheaddressgivenusbyLestrade.</s>“There is nothing like first hand evidence,” he remarked; “as a matter of fact, my mind is entirely madeupuponthecase,butstillwemayaswelllearn allthatistobelearned.” “Youamazeme,Holmes,”saidI.“Surelyyouare notassureasyoupretendtobeofallthoseparticulars whichyougave.” “There’s no room for a mistake,” he answered.</s>“The very first thing which I observed on arriving therewasthatacabhadmadetworutswithitswheels closetothecurb. Now,uptolastnight,wehavehad no rain for a week, so that those wheels which left suchadeepimpressionmusthavebeenthereduring detectives. “There has been murder done, and the murderer was a man. He was more than six feet high, was in the prime of life, had small feet for his height, wore coarse, square-toed boots and smoked a Trichinopoly cigar. He came here with his victim inafour-wheeledcab,whichwasdrawnbyahorse withthreeoldshoesandonenewoneonhisofffore leg. Inallprobabilitythemurdererhadafloridface, andthefinger-nailsofhisrighthandwereremarkably long. Theseareonlyafewindications,buttheymay assistyou.” LestradeandGregsonglancedateachotherwith anincreduloussmile.</s>“If this man was murdered, how was it done?” askedtheformer.</s>“Poison,”saidSherlockHolmescurtly,andstrode off. “One other thing, Lestrade,” he added, turn- ing round at the door: “‘Rache,’ is the German for ‘revenge;’ so don’t lose your time looking for Miss Rachel.” WithwhichParthianshothewalkedaway,leaving thetworivalsopen-mouthedbehindhim.</s>TER IV.</s>nce ad o ell H T T thenight. Therewerethemarksofthehorse’shoofs, too,theoutlineofoneofwhichwasfarmoreclearly cut than that of the other three, showing that that was a new shoe. Since the cab was there after the rainbegan,andwasnotthereatanytimeduringthe morning—IhaveGregson’swordforthat—itfollows that it must have been there during the night, and, therefore,thatitbroughtthosetwoindividualstothe house.” “That seems simple enough,” said I; “but how abouttheotherman’sheight?” “Why,theheightofaman,inninecasesoutoften, canbetoldfromthelengthofhisstride. Itisasimple calculationenough,thoughthereisnousemyboring you with figures. I had this fellow’s stride both on theclayoutsideandonthedustwithin. ThenIhada wayofcheckingmycalculation. Whenamanwrites on a wall, his instinct leads him to write about thelevelofhisowneyes. Nowthatwritingwasjustover sixfeetfromtheground. Itwaschild’splay.” “Andhisage?”Iasked.</s>“Well,ifamancanstridefouranda-halffeetwith- out the smallest effort, he can’t be quite in the sere andyellow. Thatwasthebreadthofapuddleonthe gardenwalkwhichhehadevidentlywalkedacross.</s>Patent-leatherbootshadgoneround,andSquare-toes had hopped over. There is no mystery about it at all. I am simply applying to ordinary life a few of thosepreceptsofobservationanddeductionwhichI advocated in that article. Is there anything else that puzzlesyou?” “The finger nails and the Trichinopoly,” I sug- gested.</s>“Thewritingonthewallwasdonewithaman’s forefinger dipped in blood. My glass allowed me to observe that the plaster was slightly scratched in doing it, which would not have been the case if the man’s nail had been trimmed. I gathered up some scatteredashfromthefloor. Itwasdarkincolourand flakey—suchanashasisonlymadebyaTrichinopoly.</s>Ihavemadeaspecialstudyofcigarashes—infact,I havewrittenamonographuponthesubject. Iflatter myself that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of anyknownbrand,eitherofcigaroroftobacco. Itis just in such details that the skilled detective differs fromtheGregsonandLestradetype.” “Andthefloridface?”Iasked.</s>“Ah,thatwasamoredaringshot,thoughIhave nodoubtthatIwasright. Youmustnotaskmethat atthepresentstateoftheaffair.” I passed my hand over my brow. “My head is in a whirl,” I remarked; “the more one thinks of it themoremysteriousitgrows. Howcamethesetwo men—ifthereweretwomen—intoanemptyhouse? What has become of the cabman who drove them? Howcouldonemancompelanothertotakepoison? Wheredidthebloodcomefrom? Whatwastheobject ofthemurderer,sincerobberyhadnopartinit? How camethewoman’sringthere? Aboveall,whyshould thesecondmanwriteuptheGermanwordRACHE before decamping? I confess that I cannot see any possiblewayofreconcilingallthesefacts.” Mycompanionsmiledapprovingly.</s>“Yousumupthedifficultiesofthesituationsuc- cinctly and well,” he said. “There is much that is stillobscure,thoughIhavequitemadeupmymind onthemainfacts. AstopoorLestrade’sdiscoveryit was simply a blind intended to put the police upon a wrong track, by suggesting Socialism and secret societies. It was not done by a German. The A, if younoticed,wasprintedsomewhataftertheGerman fashion. Now,arealGermaninvariablyprintsinthe Latin character, so that we may safely say that this wasnotwrittenbyone,butbyaclumsyimitatorwho overdidhispart. Itwassimplyarusetodivertinquiry intoawrongchannel. I’mnotgoingtotellyoumuch more of the case, Doctor. You know a conjuror gets nocreditwhenoncehehasexplainedhistrick,andif Ishowyoutoomuchofmymethodofworking,you willcometotheconclusionthatIamaveryordinary individualafterall.” “I shall never do that,” I answered; “you have broughtdetectionasnearanexactscienceasitever willbebroughtinthisworld.” My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words,andtheearnestwayinwhichIutteredthem.</s>I had already observed that he was as sensitive to flatteryonthescoreofhisartasanygirlcouldbeof herbeauty.</s>“I’ll tell you one other thing,” he said. “Patent- leathersandSquare-toescameinthesamecab, and theywalkeddownthepathwaytogetherasfriendlyas possible—arm-in-arm,inallprobability. Whenthey got inside they walked up and down the room—or rather, Patent-leathers stood still while Square-toes walkedupanddown. Icouldreadallthatinthedust; and I could read that as he walked he grew more and more excited. That is shown by the increased lengthofhisstrides. Hewastalkingallthewhile,and workinghimselfup,nodoubt,intoafury. Thenthe tragedyoccurred. I’vetoldyouallIknowmyselfnow, fortherestismeresurmiseandconjecture. Wehave agoodworkingbasis,however,onwhichtostart. We musthurryup,forIwanttogotoHalle’sconcertto hearNormanNerudathisafternoon.” Thisconversationhadoccurredwhileourcabhad beenthreadingitswaythroughalongsuccessionof dingystreetsanddrearyby-ways. Inthedingiestand dreariestofthemourdriversuddenlycametoastand.</s>“That’sAudleyCourtinthere,”hesaid,pointingtoa narrowslitinthelineofdead-colouredbrick. “You’ll findmeherewhenyoucomeback.” Audley Court was not an attractive locality. The narrowpassageledusintoaquadranglepavedwith flags and lined by sordid dwellings. We picked our way among groups of dirty children, and through linesofdiscolouredlinen,untilwecametoNumber 46,thedoorofwhichwasdecoratedwithasmallslip ofbrassonwhichthenameRancewasengraved. On enquirywefoundthattheconstablewasinbed,andwewereshownintoalittlefrontparlourtoawaithis coming.</s>Heappearedpresently,lookingalittleirritableat beingdisturbedinhisslumbers. “Imademyreport attheoffice,”hesaid.</s>Holmestookahalf-sovereignfromhispocketand playedwithitpensively. “Wethoughtthatweshould liketohearitallfromyourownlips,”hesaid.</s>“IshallbemosthappytotellyouanythingIcan,” theconstableansweredwithhiseyesuponthelittle goldendisk.</s>“Just let us hear it all in your own way as it oc- curred.” Rancesatdownonthehorsehairsofa,andknitted hisbrowsasthoughdeterminednottoomitanything inhisnarrative.</s>“I’ll tell it ye from the beginning,” he said. “My time is from ten at night to six in the morning.</s>At eleven there was a fight at the ‘White Hart’; but bar that all was quiet enough on the beat.</s>At one o’clock it began to rain, and I met Harry Murcher—himwhohastheHollandGrovebeat—and we stood together at the corner of Henrietta Street a-talkin’. Presently—maybe about two or a little af- ter—IthoughtIwouldtakealookroundandseethat allwasrightdowntheBrixtonRoad. Itwasprecious dirty and lonely. Not a soul did I meet all the way down, though a cab or two went past me. I was a strollin’ down, thinkin’ between ourselves how un- common handy a four of gin hot would be, when suddenlytheglintofalightcaughtmyeyeinthewin- dowofthatsamehouse. Now,Iknewthatthemtwo housesinLauristonGardenswasemptyonaccount of him that owns them who won’t have the drains seedto,thoughtheverylasttenantwhatlivedinone ofthemdiedo’typhoidfever. Iwasknockedallina heap therefore at seeing a light in the window, and Isuspectedassomethingwaswrong. WhenIgotto thedoor—” “Youstopped,andthenwalkedbacktothegarden gate,”mycompanioninterrupted. “Whatdidyoudo thatfor?” Rance gave a violent jump, and stared at Sher- lock Holmes with the utmost amazement upon his features.</s>“Why,that’strue,sir,”hesaid;“thoughhowyou cometoknowit,Heavenonlyknows. Yesee,whenI gotuptothedooritwassostillandsolonesome,that IthoughtI’dbenonetheworseforsomeonewithme.</s>I ain’t afeared of anything on this side o’ the grave; butIthoughtthatmaybeitwashimthatdiedo’the typhoid inspecting the drains what killed him. The thoughtgavemeakindo’turn,andIwalkedbackto the gate to see if I could see Murcher’s lantern, but therewasn’tnosignofhimnorofanyoneelse.” “Therewasnooneinthestreet?” “Notalivin’soul,sir,norasmuchasadog. Then Ipulledmyselftogetherandwentbackandpushed the door open. All was quiet inside, so I went into the room where the light was a-burnin’. There was a candle flickerin’ on the mantelpiece—a red wax one—andbyitslightIsaw—” “Yes,Iknowallthatyousaw. Youwalkedround the room several times, and you knelt down by the body, and then you walked through and tried the kitchendoor,andthen—” John Rance sprang to his feet with a frightened faceandsuspicioninhiseyes. “Wherewasyouhid to see all that?” he cried. “It seems to me that you knowsadealmorethanyoushould.” Holmes laughed and threw his card across the tabletotheconstable. “Don’tgetarrestingmeforthe murder,” he said. “I am one of the hounds and not thewolf;Mr.GregsonorMr.Lestradewillanswerfor that. Goon,though. Whatdidyoudonext?” Ranceresumedhisseat, withouthoweverlosing hismystifiedexpression. “Iwentbacktothegateand soundedmywhistle. ThatbroughtMurcherandtwo moretothespot.” “Wasthestreetemptythen?” “Well, it was, as far as anybody that could be of anygoodgoes.” “Whatdoyoumean?” The constable’s features broadened into a grin.</s>“I’ve seen many a drunk chap in my time,” he said, “but never anyone so cryin’ drunk as that cove. He wasatthegatewhenIcameout,a-leanin’upag’inthe railings,anda-singin’atthepitcho’hislungsabout Columbine’sNew-fangledBanner,orsomesuchstuff.</s>Hecouldn’tstand,farlesshelp.” “What sort of a man was he?” asked Sherlock Holmes.</s>JohnRanceappearedtobesomewhatirritatedat thisdigression. “Hewasanuncommondrunksorto’ man,”hesaid. “He’dha’foundhisselfinthestation ifwehadn’tbeensotookup.” “His face—his dress—didn’t you notice them?” Holmesbrokeinimpatiently.</s>“I should think I did notice them, seeing that I had to prop him up—me and Murcher between us.He was a long chap, with a red face, the lower part muffledround—” “That will do,” cried Holmes. “What became of him?” “We’d enough to do without lookin’ after him,” thepolicemansaid,inanaggrievedvoice. “I’llwager hefoundhiswayhomeallright.” “Howwashedressed?” “Abrownovercoat.” “Hadheawhipinhishand?” “Awhip—no.” “Hemusthaveleftitbehind,”mutteredmycom- panion. “Youdidn’thappentoseeorhearacabafter that?” “No.” “There’sahalf-sovereignforyou,”mycompanion said, standing up and taking his hat. “I am afraid, Rance,thatyouwillneverriseintheforce. Thathead ofyoursshouldbeforuseaswellasornament. You mighthavegainedyoursergeant’sstripeslastnight.</s>The man whom you held in your hands is the man whoholdstheclueofthismystery,andwhomweare seeking. There is no use of arguing about it now; I tellyouthatitisso. Comealong,Doctor.” We started off for the cab together, leaving our informantincredulous,butobviouslyuncomfortable.</s>CHAP ur dvertisemen O A Ourmorning’sexertionshadbeentoomuchfor myweakhealth,andIwastiredoutintheafternoon.</s>AfterHolmes’departurefortheconcert,Ilaydown upon the sofa and endeavoured to get a couple of hours’sleep. Itwasauselessattempt. Mymindhad beentoomuchexcitedbyallthathadoccurred,and the strangest fancies and surmises crowded into it.</s>EverytimethatIclosedmyeyesIsawbeforemethe distorted baboon-like countenance of the murdered man. Sosinisterwastheimpressionwhichthatface had produced upon me that I found it difficult to feelanythingbutgratitudeforhimwhohadremoved its owner from the world. If ever human features “The blundering fool,” Holmes said, bitterly, as we drove back to our lodgings. “Just to think of his having such an incomparable bit of good luck, and nottakingadvantageofit.” “I am rather in the dark still. It is true that the description of this man tallies with your idea of the second party in this mystery. But why should he come back to the house after leaving it? That is not thewayofcriminals.” “Thering,man,thering: thatwaswhathecame backfor. Ifwehavenootherwayofcatchinghim,we can always bait our line with the ring. I shall have him,Doctor—I’lllayyoutwotoonethatIhavehim.</s>Imustthankyouforitall. Imightnothavegonebut for you, and so have missed the finest study I ever came across: a study in scarlet, eh? Why shouldn’t we use a little art jargon. There’s the scarlet thread of murder running through the colourless skein of life,andourdutyistounravelit,andisolateit,and exposeeveryinchofit. Andnowforlunch,andthen forNormanNeruda. Herattackandherbowingare splendid. What’s that little thing of Chopin’s she playssomagnificently: Tra-la-la-lira-lira-lay.” Leaningbackinthecab,thisamateurbloodhound carolledawaylikealarkwhileImeditateduponthe many-sidednessofthehumanmind.</s>PTER V.</s>nt rings isitor B A V bespokeviceofthemostmalignanttype, theywere certainlythoseofEnochJ.Drebber,ofCleveland. Still I recognized that justice must be done, and that the depravity of the victim was no condonement in the eyesofthelaw.</s>The more I thought of it the more extraordinary did my companion’s hypothesis, that the man had been poisoned, appear. I remembered how he had sniffed his lips, and had no doubt that he had de- tected something which had given rise to the idea.</s>Then,again,ifnotpoison,whathadcausedtheman’s death, since there was neither wound nor marks of strangulation? But,ontheotherhand,whosebloodwasthatwhichlaysothicklyuponthefloor? There were no signs of a struggle, nor had the victim any weaponwithwhichhemighthavewoundedanantag- onist. As long as all these questions were unsolved, I felt that sleep would be no easy matter, either for Holmes or myself. His quiet self-confident manner convinced me that he had already formed a theory which explained all the facts, though what it was I couldnotforaninstantconjecture.</s>Hewasverylateinreturning—solate,thatIknew thattheconcertcouldnothavedetainedhimallthe time. Dinnerwasonthetablebeforeheappeared.</s>“Itwasmagnificent,”hesaid,ashetookhisseat.</s>“Do you remember what Darwin says about music? Heclaimsthatthepowerofproducingandappreciat- ingitexistedamongthehumanracelongbeforethe powerofspeechwasarrivedat. Perhapsthatiswhy we are so subtly influenced by it. There are vague memoriesinoursoulsofthosemistycenturieswhen theworldwasinitschildhood.” “That’sratherabroadidea,”Iremarked.</s>“One’s ideas must be as broad as Nature if they are to interpret Nature,” he answered. “What’s the matter? You’renotlookingquiteyourself. ThisBrix- tonRoadaffairhasupsetyou.” “To tell the truth, it has,” I said. “I ought to be morecase-hardenedaftermyAfghanexperiences. I sawmyowncomradeshackedtopiecesatMaiwand withoutlosingmynerve.” “Icanunderstand. Thereisamysteryaboutthis whichstimulatestheimagination;wherethereisno imagination there is no horror. Have you seen the eveningpaper?” “No.” “Itgivesafairlygoodaccountoftheaffair. Itdoes not mention the fact that when the man was raised up,awoman’sweddingringfelluponthefloor. Itis justaswellitdoesnot.” “Why?” “Lookatthisadvertisement,”heanswered. “Ihad one sent to every paper this morning immediately aftertheaffair.” HethrewthepaperacrosstomeandIglancedat theplaceindicated. Itwasthefirstannouncementin the “Found” column. “In Brixton Road, this morn- ing,” it ran, “a plain gold wedding ring, found in the roadway between the ‘White Hart’ Tavern and HollandGrove. ApplyDr.Watson,221b,BakerStreet, betweeneightandninethisevening.” “Excusemyusingyourname,”hesaid. “IfIused myownsomeofthesedunderheadswouldrecognize it,andwanttomeddleintheaffair.” “That is all right,” I answered. “But supposing anyoneapplies,Ihavenoring.” “Oh yes, you have,” said he, handing me one.</s>“Thiswilldoverywell. Itisalmostafacsimile.” “Andwhodoyouexpectwillanswerthisadver- tisement.” “Why, the man in the brown coat—our florid friend with the square toes. If he does not come himselfhewillsendanaccomplice.” “Wouldhenotconsideritastoodangerous?” “Notatall. Ifmyviewofthecaseiscorrect,andI haveeveryreasontobelievethatitis,thismanwould ratherriskanythingthanlosethering. Accordingto my notion he dropped it while stooping over Dreb- ber’s body, and did not miss it at the time. After leavingthehousehediscoveredhislossandhurried back,butfoundthepolicealreadyinpossession,ow- ing to his own folly in leaving the candle burning.</s>He had to pretend to be drunk in order to allay the suspicionswhichmighthavebeenarousedbyhisap- pearanceatthegate. Nowputyourselfinthatman’s place. On thinking the matter over, it must have oc- curred to him that it was possible that he had lost the ring in the road after leaving the house. What would he do, then? He would eagerly look out for theeveningpapersinthehopeofseeingitamongthe articlesfound. Hiseye,ofcourse,wouldlightupon this. He would be overjoyed. Why should he fear a trap? There would be no reason in his eyes why thefindingoftheringshouldbeconnectedwiththe murder. Hewouldcome. Hewillcome. Youshallsee himwithinanhour.” “Andthen?”Iasked.</s>“Oh,youcanleavemetodealwithhimthen. Have youanyarms?” “I have my old service revolver and a few car- tridges.” “Youhadbettercleanitandloadit. Hewillbea desperateman,andthoughIshalltakehimunawares, itisaswelltobereadyforanything.” I went to my bedroom and followed his advice.</s>When I returned with the pistol the table had been cleared, and Holmes was engaged in his favourite occupationofscrapinguponhisviolin.</s>“Theplotthickens,”hesaid,asIentered;“Ihave just had an answer to my American telegram. My viewofthecaseisthecorrectone.” “Andthatis?”Iaskedeagerly.“My fiddle would be the better for new strings,” heremarked. “Putyourpistolinyourpocket. When the fellow comes speak to him in an ordinary way.</s>Leavetheresttome. Don’tfrightenhimbylooking athimtoohard.” “It is eight o’clock now,” I said, glancing at my watch.</s>“Yes. Hewillprobablybehereinafewminutes.</s>Open the door slightly. That will do. Now put the key on the inside. Thank you! This is a queer old book I picked up at a stall yesterday—De Jure inter Gentes—publishedinLatinatLiegeintheLowlands, in1642. Charles’headwasstillfirmonhisshoulders whenthislittlebrown-backedvolumewasstruckoff.” “Whoistheprinter?” “Philippe de Croy, whoever he may have been.</s>On the fly-leaf, in very faded ink, is written ‘Ex lib- ris Guliolmi Whyte.’ I wonder who William Whyte was. Somepragmaticalseventeenthcenturylawyer,I suppose. Hiswritinghasalegaltwistaboutit. Here comesourman,Ithink.” As he spoke there was a sharp ring at the bell.</s>SherlockHolmesrosesoftlyandmovedhischairin thedirectionofthedoor. Weheardtheservantpass alongthehall,andthesharpclickofthelatchasshe openedit.</s>“Does Dr. Watson live here?” asked a clear but rather harsh voice. We could not hear the servant’s reply, but the door closed, and some one began to ascendthestairs. Thefootfallwasanuncertainand shufflingone. Alookofsurprisepassedovertheface ofmycompanionashelistenedtoit. Itcameslowly along the passage, and there was a feeble tap at the door.</s>“Comein,”Icried.</s>At my summons, instead of the man of violence whomweexpected,averyoldandwrinkledwoman hobbledintotheapartment. Sheappearedtobedaz- zledbythesuddenblazeoflight,andafterdropping a curtsey, she stood blinking at us with her bleared eyesandfumblinginherpocketwithnervous,shaky fingers. Iglancedatmycompanion,andhisfacehad assumed such a disconsolate expression that it was allIcoulddotokeepmycountenance.</s>The old crone drew out an evening paper, and pointedatouradvertisement. “It’sthisashasbrought me, good gentlemen,” she said, dropping another curtsey;“agoldweddingringintheBrixtonRoad. It belongstomygirlSally,aswasmarriedonlythistime twelvemonth,whichherhusbandisstewardaboarda Unionboat,andwhathe’dsayifhecomes’omeand foundherwithoutherringismorethanIcanthink, hebeingshortenoughatthebesto’times,butmore especiallywhenhehasthedrink. Ifitpleaseyou,she wenttothecircuslastnightalongwith—” “Isthatherring?”Iasked.</s>“The Lord be thanked!” cried the old woman; “Sally will be a glad woman this night. That’s the ring.” “Andwhatmayyouraddressbe?”Iinquired,tak- ingupapencil.</s>“13, Duncan Street, Houndsditch. A weary way fromhere.” “TheBrixtonRoaddoesnotliebetweenanycircus andHoundsditch,”saidSherlockHolmessharply.</s>Theoldwomanfacedroundandlookedkeenlyat himfromherlittlered-rimmedeyes. “Thegentleman asked me for my address,” she said. “Sally lives in lodgingsat3,MayfieldPlace,Peckham.” “Andyournameis—?” “MynameisSawyer—her’sisDennis,whichTom Dennismarriedher—andasmart,cleanlad, too, as long as he’s at sea, and no steward in the company morethoughtof; butwhenonshore,whatwiththe womenandwhatwithliquorshops—” “Hereisyourring,Mrs.Sawyer,”Iinterrupted,in obedience to a sign from my companion; “it clearly belongstoyourdaughter,andIamgladtobeableto restoreittotherightfulowner.” Withmanymumbledblessingsandprotestations of gratitude the old crone packed it away in her pocket, and shuffled off down the stairs. Sherlock Holmes sprang to his feet the moment that she was gone and rushed into his room. He returned in a fewsecondsenvelopedinanulsterandacravat. “I’ll follow her,” he said, hurriedly; “she must be an ac- complice,andwillleadmetohim. Waitupforme.” The hall door had hardly slammed behind our visi- torbeforeHolmeshaddescendedthestair. Looking through the window I could see her walking feebly along the other side, while her pursuer dogged her somelittledistancebehind. “Eitherhiswholetheory isincorrect,”Ithoughttomyself,“orelsehewillbe led now to the heart of the mystery.” There was no needforhimtoaskmetowaitupforhim,forIfelt that sleep was impossible until I heard the result of hisadventure.</s>Itwascloseuponninewhenhesetout. Ihadno idea how long he might be, but I sat stolidly puff- ingatmypipeandskippingoverthepagesofHenri Murger’s Vie de Bohe`me. Ten o’clock passed, and I heard the footsteps of the maid as they pattered offtobed. Eleven,andthemorestatelytreadoftheland- ladypassedmydoor,boundforthesamedestination.</s>It was close upon twelve before I heard the sharp soundofhislatch-key. TheinstantheenteredIsaw by his face that he had not been successful. Amuse- ment and chagrin seemed to be struggling for the mastery, until the former suddenly carried the day, andheburstintoaheartylaugh.</s>“Iwouldn’thavetheScotlandYardersknowitfor theworld,”hecried,droppingintohischair;“Ihave chaffedthemsomuchthattheywouldneverhavelet meheartheendofit. Icanaffordtolaugh,becauseI knowthatIwillbeevenwiththeminthelongrun.” “Whatisitthen?”Iasked.</s>“Oh, I don’t mind telling a story against myself.</s>Thatcreaturehadgonealittlewaywhenshebeganto limpandshoweverysignofbeingfoot-sore. Presently shecametoahalt,andhailedafour-wheelerwhich was passing. I managed to be close to her so as to heartheaddress,butIneednothavebeensoanxious, for she sang it out loud enough to be heard at the other side of the street, ‘Drive to 13, Duncan Street, Houndsditch,’shecried. Thisbeginstolookgenuine, Ithought,andhavingseenhersafelyinside,Iperched myself behind. That’s an art which every detective should be an expert at. Well, away we rattled, and never drew rein until we reached the street in ques- tion. I hopped off before we came to the door, and strolled down the street in an easy, lounging way. I sawthecabpullup. Thedriverjumpeddown,andI CHAP obias regson ho T G S The papers next day were full of the “Brixton Mystery,”astheytermedit. Eachhadalongaccount of the affair, and some had leaders upon it in addi- tion. Therewassomeinformationinthemwhichwas newtome. Istillretaininmyscrap-booknumerous clippingsandextractsbearinguponthecase. Hereis acondensationofafewofthem:— The Daily Telegraph remarked that in the history ofcrimetherehadseldombeenatragedywhichpre- sented stranger features. The German name of the sawhimopenthedoorandstandexpectantly. Noth- ing came out though. When I reached him he was gropingaboutfranticallyintheemptycab,andgiv- ingventtothefinestassortedcollectionofoathsthat ever I listened to. There was no sign or trace of his passenger, and I fear it will be some time before he gets his fare. On inquiring at Number 13 we found thatthehousebelongedtoarespectablepaperhanger, namedKeswick,andthatnooneofthenameeither ofSawyerorDennishadeverbeenheardofthere.” “You don’t mean to say,” I cried, in amazement, “thatthattottering,feebleoldwomanwasabletoget outofthecabwhileitwasinmotion,withouteither youorthedriverseeingher?” “Oldwomanbedamned!”saidSherlockHolmes, sharply. “We were the old women to be so taken in. It must have been a young man, and an active one, too, besides being an incomparable actor. The get-upwasinimitable. Hesawthathewasfollowed, nodoubt,andusedthismeansofgivingmetheslip.</s>Itshowsthatthemanweareafterisnotaslonelyas Iimaginedhewas,buthasfriendswhoarereadyto risksomethingforhim. Now,Doctor,youarelooking done-up. Takemyadviceandturnin.” Iwascertainlyfeelingveryweary,soIobeyedhis injunction. IleftHolmesseatedinfrontofthesmoul- dering fire, and long into the watches of the night I heardthelow,melancholywailingsofhisviolin,and knew that he was still pondering over the strange problemwhichhehadsethimselftounravel.</s>TER VI.</s>ws hat e an o W H C D victim,theabsenceofallothermotive,andthesinister inscriptiononthewall,allpointedtoitsperpetration bypoliticalrefugeesandrevolutionists. TheSocialists hadmanybranchesinAmerica,andthedeceasedhad, no doubt, infringed their unwritten laws, and been tracked down by them. After alluding airily to the Vehmgericht,aquatofana,Carbonari,theMarchioness de Brinvilliers, the Darwinian theory, the principles ofMalthus,andtheRatcliffHighwaymurders,thear- ticleconcludedbyadmonishingtheGovernmentand advocatingacloserwatchoverforeignersinEngland.The Standard commented upon the fact that law- lessoutragesofthesortusuallyoccurredunderaLib- eralAdministration. Theyarosefromtheunsettling ofthemindsofthemasses,andtheconsequentweak- eningofallauthority. ThedeceasedwasanAmerican gentlemanwhohadbeenresidingforsomeweeksin theMetropolis. Hehadstayedattheboarding-house ofMadameCharpentier,inTorquayTerrace,Camber- well. Hewasaccompaniedinhistravelsbyhisprivate secretary,Mr.JosephStangerson. Thetwobadeadieu to their landlady upon Tuesday, the 4th inst., and departed to Euston Station with the avowed inten- tion of catching the Liverpool express. They were afterwardsseentogetherupontheplatform. Nothing moreisknownofthemuntilMr.Drebber’sbodywas, asrecorded,discoveredinanemptyhouseintheBrix- ton Road, many miles from Euston. How he came there,orhowhemethisfate,arequestionswhichare still involved in mystery. Nothing is known of the whereaboutsofStangerson. Wearegladtolearnthat Mr.LestradeandMr.Gregson,ofScotlandYard,are bothengageduponthecase,anditisconfidentlyan- ticipatedthatthesewell-knownofficerswillspeedily throwlightuponthematter.</s>TheDailyNewsobservedthattherewasnodoubt astothecrimebeingapoliticalone. Thedespotism andhatredofLiberalismwhichanimatedtheConti- nentalGovernmentshadhadtheeffectofdrivingto our shores a number of men who might have made excellent citizens were they not soured by the recol- lectionofallthattheyhadundergone. Amongthese men there was a stringent code of honour, any in- fringement of which was punished by death. Every effortshouldbemadetofindthesecretary,Stanger- son, and to ascertain some particulars of the habits of the deceased. A great step had been gained by the discovery of the address of the house at which hehadboarded—aresultwhichwasentirelydueto theacutenessandenergyofMr.GregsonofScotland Yard.</s>SherlockHolmesandIreadthesenoticesoverto- getheratbreakfast,andtheyappearedtoaffordhim considerableamusement.</s>“Itoldyouthat,whateverhappened,Lestradeand Gregsonwouldbesuretoscore.” “Thatdependsonhowitturnsout.” “Oh,blessyou,itdoesn’tmatterintheleast. Ifthe maniscaught,itwillbeonaccountoftheirexertions; ifheescapes,itwillbeinspiteoftheirexertions. It’s headsIwinandtailsyoulose. Whatevertheydo,they willhavefollowers. ‘Unsottrouvetoujoursunplussot quil’admire.’” “Whatonearthisthis?”Icried,foratthismoment therecamethepatteringofmanystepsinthehalland onthestairs,accompaniedbyaudibleexpressionsof disgustuponthepartofourlandlady.</s>“It’stheBakerStreetdivisionofthedetectivepo- lice force,” said my companion, gravely; and as he spoke there rushed into the room half a dozen of thedirtiestandmostraggedstreetArabsthateverI clappedeyeson.</s>“’Tention!”criedHolmes,inasharptone,andthe sixdirtylittlescoundrelsstoodinalinelikesomany disreputablestatuettes. “Infutureyoushallsendup Wigginsalonetoreport,andtherestofyoumustwait inthestreet. Haveyoufoundit,Wiggins?” “No,sir,wehain’t,”saidoneoftheyouths.</s>“Ihardlyexpectedyouwould. Youmustkeepon untilyoudo. Hereareyourwages.”Hehandedeach ofthemashilling. “Now,offyougo,andcomeback withabetterreportnexttime.” He waved his hand, and they scampered away downstairs like so many rats, and we heard their shrillvoicesnextmomentinthestreet.</s>“There’smoreworktobegotoutofoneofthose littlebeggarsthanoutofadozenoftheforce,”Holmes remarked. “Themeresightofanofficial-lookingper- sonsealsmen’slips. Theseyoungsters,however,go everywhereandheareverything. Theyareassharp asneedles,too;alltheywantisorganisation.” “IsitonthisBrixtoncasethatyouareemploying them?”Iasked.</s>“Yes; there is a point which I wish to ascertain.</s>It is merely a matter of time. Hullo! we are going to hear some news now with a vengeance! Here is Gregsoncomingdowntheroadwithbeatitudewrit- ten upon every feature of his face. Bound for us, I know. Yes,heisstopping. Thereheis!” Therewasaviolentpealatthebell,andinafew seconds the fair-haired detective came up the stairs, threestepsatatime,andburstintooursitting-room.</s>“Mydearfellow,”hecried,wringingHolmes’un- responsivehand,“congratulateme! Ihavemadethe wholethingasclearasday.” A shade of anxiety seemed to me to cross my companion’sexpressiveface.</s>“Doyoumeanthatyouareontherighttrack?”he asked.</s>“Therighttrack! Why,sir,wehavethemanunder lockandkey.” “Andhisnameis?”“Arthur Charpentier, sub-lieutenant in Her Majesty’snavy,”criedGregson,pompously,rubbing hisfathandsandinflatinghischest.</s>SherlockHolmesgaveasighofrelief,andrelaxed intoasmile.</s>“Takeaseat,andtryoneofthesecigars,”hesaid.</s>“Weareanxioustoknowhowyoumanagedit. Will youhavesomewhiskeyandwater?” “I don’t mind if I do,” the detective answered.</s>“ThetremendousexertionswhichIhavegonethrough duringthelastdayortwohavewornmeout. Notso muchbodilyexertion,youunderstand,asthestrain uponthemind. Youwillappreciatethat,Mr.Sherlock Holmes,forwearebothbrain-workers.” “You do me too much honour,” said Holmes, gravely. “Let us hear how you arrived at this most gratifyingresult.” Thedetectiveseatedhimselfinthearm-chair,and puffed complacently at his cigar. Then suddenly he slappedhisthighinaparoxysmofamusement.</s>“Thefunofitis,”hecried,“thatthatfoolLestrade, who thinks himself so smart, has gone off upon the wrong track altogether. He is after the secretary Stangerson, who had no more to do with the crime than the babe unborn. I have no doubt that he has caughthimbythistime.” TheideatickledGregsonsomuchthathelaughed untilhechoked.</s>“Andhowdidyougetyourclue?” “Ah, I’ll tell you all about it. Of course, Doctor Watson,thisisstrictlybetweenourselves. Thefirstdif- ficultywhichwehadtocontendwithwasthefinding ofthisAmerican’santecedents. Somepeoplewould havewaiteduntiltheiradvertisementswereanswered, oruntilpartiescameforwardandvolunteeredinfor- mation. ThatisnotTobiasGregson’swayofgoingto work. Yourememberthehatbesidethedeadman?” “Yes,” said Holmes; “by John Underwood and Sons,129,CamberwellRoad.” Gregsonlookedquitecrest-fallen.</s>“I had no idea that you noticed that,” he said.</s>“Haveyoubeenthere?” “No.” “Ha!” cried Gregson, in a relieved voice; “you shouldneverneglectachance,howeversmallitmay seem.” “To a great mind, nothing is little,” remarked Holmes,sententiously.</s>“Well,IwenttoUnderwood,andaskedhimifhe hadsoldahatofthatsizeanddescription. Helooked overhisbooks,andcameonitatonce. Hehadsent the hat to a Mr. Drebber, residing at Charpentier’s BoardingEstablishment,TorquayTerrace. ThusIgot athisaddress.” “Smart—very smart!” murmured Sherlock Holmes.</s>“I next called upon Madame Charpentier,” con- tinued the detective. “I found her very pale and distressed. Her daughter was in the room, too—an uncommonlyfinegirlsheis,too;shewaslookingred about the eyes and her lips trembled as I spoke to her. That didn’t escape my notice. I began to smell a rat. You know the feeling, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, whenyoucomeupontherightscent—akindofthrill in your nerves. ‘Have you heard of the mysterious death of your late boarder Mr. Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland?’ Iasked.</s>“Themothernodded. Shedidn’tseemabletoget outaword. Thedaughterburstintotears. Ifeltmore than ever that these people knew something of the matter.</s>“‘At what o’clock did Mr. Drebber leave your houseforthetrain?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Ateighto’clock,’shesaid,gulpinginherthroat to keep down her agitation. ‘His secretary, Mr.</s>Stangerson, said that there were two trains—one at 9.15andoneat11. Hewastocatchthefirst.’ “‘Andwasthatthelastwhichyousawofhim?’ “Aterriblechangecameoverthewoman’sfaceas I asked the question. Her features turned perfectly livid. It was some seconds before she could get out thesingleword‘Yes’—andwhenitdidcomeitwas inahuskyunnaturaltone.</s>“There was silence for a moment, and then the daughterspokeinacalmclearvoice.</s>“‘No good can ever come of falsehood, mother,’ shesaid. ‘Letusbefrankwiththisgentleman. Wedid seeMr.Drebberagain.’ “‘God forgive you!’ cried Madame Charpentier, throwingupherhandsandsinkingbackinherchair.</s>‘Youhavemurderedyourbrother.’ “‘Arthur would rather that we spoke the truth,’ thegirlansweredfirmly.</s>“‘You had best tell me all about it now,’ I said.</s>‘Half-confidencesareworsethannone. Besides,you donotknowhowmuchweknowofit.’ “‘On your head be it, Alice!’ cried her mother; andthen,turningtome,‘Iwilltellyouall,sir. Donotimaginethatmyagitationonbehalfofmysonarises fromanyfearlestheshouldhavehadahandinthis terribleaffair. Heisutterlyinnocentofit. Mydread is,however,thatinyoureyesandintheeyesofothers hemayappeartobecompromised. Thathoweveris surelyimpossible. Hishighcharacter,hisprofession, hisantecedentswouldallforbidit.’ “‘Your best way is to make a clean breast of the facts,’ I answered. ‘Depend upon it, if your son is innocenthewillbenonetheworse.’ “‘Perhaps,Alice,youhadbetterleaveustogether,’ shesaid,andherdaughterwithdrew. ‘Now,sir,’she continued, ‘Ihadnointentionoftellingyouallthis, butsincemypoordaughterhasdiscloseditIhaveno alternative. Havingoncedecidedtospeak,Iwilltell youallwithoutomittinganyparticular.’ “‘Itisyourwisestcourse,’saidI.</s>“‘Mr.Drebberhasbeenwithusnearlythreeweeks.</s>Heandhissecretary,Mr.Stangerson,hadbeentrav- elling on the Continent. I noticed a “Copenhagen” labeluponeachoftheirtrunks,showingthatthathad beentheirlaststoppingplace. Stangersonwasaquiet reserved man, but his employer, I am sorry to say, was far otherwise. He was coarse in his habits and brutish in his ways. The very nightof his arrival he becameverymuchtheworsefordrink,and,indeed, after twelve o’clock in the day he could hardly ever be said to be sober. His manners towards the maid- servantsweredisgustinglyfreeandfamiliar. Worstof all, he speedily assumed the same attitude towards mydaughter,Alice,andspoketohermorethanonce inawaywhich,fortunately,sheistooinnocenttoun- derstand. Ononeoccasionheactuallyseizedherin hisarmsandembracedher—anoutragewhichcaused his own secretary to reproach him for his unmanly conduct.’ “‘Butwhydidyoustandallthis,’Iasked. ‘Isup- posethatyoucangetridofyourboarderswhenyou wish.’ “Mrs.Charpentierblushedatmypertinentques- tion. ‘Would to God that I had given him notice on the very day that he came,’ she said. ‘But it was a sore temptation. They were paying a pound a day each—fourteenpoundsaweek,andthisistheslack season. I am a widow, and my boy in the Navy has costmemuch. Igrudgedtolosethe money. I acted forthebest. Thislastwastoomuch,however,andI gave him notice to leave on account of it. That was thereasonofhisgoing.’ “‘Well?’ “‘MyheartgrewlightwhenIsawhimdriveaway.</s>My son is on leave just now, but I did not tell him anythingofallthis,forhistemperisviolent,andhe is passionately fond of his sister. When I closed the doorbehindthemaloadseemedtobeliftedfrommy mind. Alas, inlessthananhourtherewasaringat thebell,andIlearnedthatMr.Drebberhadreturned.</s>He was much excited, and evidently the worse for drink. Heforcedhiswayintotheroom,whereIwas sittingwithmydaughter,andmadesomeincoherent remarkabouthavingmissedhistrain. Hethenturned to Alice, and before my very face, proposed to her that she should fly with him. “You are of age,” he said,“andthereisnolawtostopyou. Ihavemoney enough and to spare. Never mind the old girl here, butcomealongwithmenowstraightaway. Youshall livelikeaprincess.”PoorAlicewassofrightenedthat sheshrunkawayfromhim,buthecaughtherbythe wristandendeavouredtodrawhertowardsthedoor.</s>Iscreamed,andatthatmomentmysonArthurcame intotheroom. WhathappenedthenIdonotknow. I heard oaths and the confused sounds of a scuffle. I was too terrified to raise my head. When I did look up I saw Arthur standing in the doorway laughing, with a stick in his hand. “I don’t think that fine fel- low will trouble us again,” he said. “I will just go afterhimandseewhathedoeswithhimself.”With thosewordshetookhishatandstartedoffdownthe street. ThenextmorningweheardofMr.Drebber’s mysteriousdeath.’ “ThisstatementcamefromMrs.Charpentier’slips withmanygaspsandpauses. Attimesshespokeso lowthatIcouldhardlycatchthewords. Imadeshort- handnotesofallthatshesaid,however,sothatthere shouldbenopossibilityofamistake.” “It’squiteexciting,”saidSherlockHolmes,witha yawn. “Whathappenednext?” “When Mrs. Charpentier paused,” the detective continued,“Isawthatthewholecasehunguponone point. FixingherwithmyeyeinawaywhichIalways foundeffectivewithwomen,Iaskedheratwhathour hersonreturned.</s>“‘Idonotknow,’sheanswered.</s>“‘Notknow?’ “‘No;hehasalatch-key,andhelethimselfin.’ “‘Afteryouwenttobed?’ “‘Yes.’ “‘Whendidyougotobed?’ “‘Abouteleven.’ “‘Soyoursonwasgoneatleasttwohours?’“‘Yes.’ “‘Possiblyfourorfive?’ “‘Yes.’ “‘Whatwashedoingduringthattime?’ “‘Idonotknow,’sheanswered,turningwhiteto herverylips.</s>“Ofcourseafterthattherewasnothingmoretobe done. IfoundoutwhereLieutenantCharpentierwas, took two officers with me, and arrested him. When I touched him on the shoulder and warned him to comequietlywithus,heansweredusasboldasbrass, ‘Isupposeyouarearrestingmeforbeingconcerned inthedeathofthatscoundrelDrebber,’hesaid. We hadsaidnothingtohimaboutit,sothathisalluding toithadamostsuspiciousaspect.” “Very,”saidHolmes.</s>“Hestillcarriedtheheavystickwhichthemother describedhimashavingwithhimwhenhefollowed Drebber. Itwasastoutoakcudgel.” “Whatisyourtheory,then?” “Well,mytheoryisthathefollowedDrebberasfar astheBrixtonRoad. Whenthere,afreshaltercation arosebetweenthem,inthecourseofwhichDrebber receivedablowfromthestick,inthepitofthestom- ach, perhaps, whichkilled himwithout leaving any mark. Thenightwassowetthatnoonewasabout,so Charpentierdraggedthebodyofhisvictimintothe empty house. As to the candle, and the blood, and thewritingonthewall,andthering,theymayallbe so many tricks to throw the police on to the wrong scent.” “Welldone!”saidHolmesinanencouragingvoice.</s>“Really, Gregson, you are getting along. We shall makesomethingofyouyet.” CHAPT ight n h L I T TheintelligencewithwhichLestradegreetedus wassomomentousandsounexpected,thatwewere all three fairly dumbfounded. Gregson sprang out ofhischairandupsettheremainderofhiswhiskey and water. I stared in silence at Sherlock Holmes, “I flatter myself that I have managed it rather neatly,”thedetectiveansweredproudly. “Theyoung manvolunteeredastatement,inwhichhesaidthataf- terfollowingDrebbersometime,thelatterperceived him, and took a cab in order to get away from him.</s>Onhiswayhomehemetanoldshipmate,andtook a long walk with him. On being asked where this old shipmate lived, he was unable to give any sat- isfactory reply. I think the whole case fits together uncommonly well. What amuses me is to think of Lestrade,whohadstartedoffuponthewrongscent.</s>I am afraid he won’t make much of—Why, by Jove, here’stheverymanhimself!” It was indeed Lestrade, who had ascended the stairs while we were talking, and who now entered theroom. Theassuranceandjauntinesswhichgener- allymarkedhisdemeanouranddresswere,however, wanting. Hisfacewasdisturbedandtroubled,while hisclothesweredisarrangedanduntidy. Hehadev- idently come with the intention of consulting with SherlockHolmes,foronperceivinghiscolleaguehe appeared to be embarrassed and put out. He stood in the centre of the room, fumbling nervously with his hat and uncertain what to do. “This is a most extraordinarycase,”hesaidatlast—“amostincom- prehensibleaffair.” “Ah,youfinditso,Mr.Lestrade!”criedGregson, triumphantly. “I thought you would come to that conclusion. HaveyoumanagedtofindtheSecretary, Mr.JosephStangerson?” “The Secretary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson,” said Lestrade gravely, “was murdered at Halliday’s Pri- vateHotelaboutsixo’clockthismorning.” TER VII.</s>he arkness D whose lips were compressed and his brows drawn downoverhiseyes.</s>“Stangerson too!” he muttered. “The plot thick- ens.” “It was quite thick enough before,” grumbledLestrade, taking a chair. “I seem to have dropped intoasortofcouncilofwar.” “Are you—are you sure of this piece of intelli- gence?”stammeredGregson.</s>“I have just come from his room,” said Lestrade.</s>“Iwasthefirsttodiscoverwhathadoccurred.” “WehavebeenhearingGregson’sviewofthemat- ter,”Holmesobserved. “Wouldyoumindlettingus knowwhatyouhaveseenanddone?” “Ihavenoobjection,”Lestradeanswered,seating himself. “I freely confess that I was of the opinion thatStangersonwasconcernedinthedeathofDreb- ber. This fresh development has shown me that I was completely mistaken. Full of the one idea, I set myselftofindoutwhathadbecomeoftheSecretary.</s>TheyhadbeenseentogetheratEustonStationabout half-pasteightontheeveningofthethird. Attwoin themorningDrebberhadbeenfoundintheBrixton Road. Thequestionwhichconfrontedmewastofind outhowStangersonhadbeenemployedbetween8.30 and the time of the crime, and what had become of himafterwards. ItelegraphedtoLiverpool,givinga descriptionoftheman,andwarningthemtokeepa watch upon the American boats. I then set to work callinguponallthehotelsandlodging-housesinthe vicinityofEuston. Yousee,IarguedthatifDrebber andhiscompanionhadbecomeseparated,thenatural courseforthelatterwouldbetoputupsomewhere inthevicinityforthenight,andthentohangabout thestationagainnextmorning.” “Theywouldbelikelytoagreeonsomemeeting- placebeforehand,”remarkedHolmes.</s>“So it proved. I spent the whole of yesterday evening in making enquiries entirely without avail.</s>ThismorningIbeganveryearly,andateighto’clock I reached Halliday’s Private Hotel, in Little George Street. OnmyenquiryastowhetheraMr.Stangerson was living there, they at once answered me in the affirmative.</s>“‘Nodoubtyouarethegentlemanwhomhewas expecting,’ they said. ‘He has been waiting for a gentlemanfortwodays.’ “‘Whereishenow?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Heisupstairsinbed. Hewishedtobecalledat nine.’ “‘Iwillgoupandseehimatonce,’Isaid.</s>“It seemed to me that my sudden appearance might shake his nerves and lead him to say some- thingunguarded. TheBootsvolunteeredtoshowme theroom: itwasonthesecondfloor,andtherewasa smallcorridorleadinguptoit. TheBootspointedout thedoortome,andwasabouttogodownstairsagain whenIsawsomethingthatmademefeelsickish,in spiteofmytwentyyears’experience. Fromunderthe doortherecurledalittleredribbonofblood,which hadmeanderedacrossthepassageandformedalittle pool along the skirting at the other side. I gave a cry,whichbroughttheBootsback. Henearlyfainted when he saw it. The door was locked on the inside, but we put our shoulders to it, and knocked it in.</s>The window of the room was open, and beside the window, all huddled up, lay the body of a man in hisnightdress. Hewasquitedead,andhadbeenfor sometime,forhislimbswererigidandcold. When weturnedhimover,theBootsrecognizedhimatonce as being the same gentleman who had engaged the room under the name of Joseph Stangerson. The causeofdeathwasadeepstabintheleftside,which musthavepenetratedtheheart. Andnowcomesthe strangestpartoftheaffair. Whatdoyousupposewas abovethemurderedman?” I felt a creeping of the flesh, and a presentiment of coming horror, even before Sherlock Holmes an- swered.</s>“The word RACHE, written in letters of blood,” hesaid.</s>“That was it,” said Lestrade, in an awe-struck voice;andwewereallsilentforawhile.</s>Therewassomethingsomethodicalandsoincom- prehensibleaboutthedeedsofthisunknownassassin, thatitimpartedafreshghastlinesstohiscrimes. My nerves, which were steady enough on the field of battletingledasIthoughtofit.</s>“Themanwasseen,”continuedLestrade. “Amilk boy, passing on his way to the dairy, happened to walk down the lane which leads from the mews at thebackofthehotel. Henoticedthataladder,which usuallylaythere,wasraisedagainstoneofthewin- dowsofthesecondfloor,whichwaswideopen. After passing,helookedbackandsawamandescendthe ladder. Hecamedownsoquietlyandopenlythatthe boy imagined him to be some carpenter or joiner at workinthehotel. Hetooknoparticularnoticeofhim, beyond thinking in his own mind that it was early forhimtobeatwork. Hehasanimpressionthatthe man was tall, had a reddish face, and was dressed in a long, brownish coat. He must have stayed in the room some little time after the murder, for we foundblood-stainedwaterinthebasin,wherehehad washedhishands,andmarksonthesheetswherehe haddeliberatelywipedhisknife.”I glanced at Holmes on hearing the description of the murderer, which tallied so exactly with his own. There was, however, no trace of exultation or satisfactionuponhisface.</s>“Did you find nothing in the room which could furnishacluetothemurderer?”heasked.</s>“Nothing. StangersonhadDrebber’spurseinhis pocket, but it seems that this was usual, as he did all the paying. There was eighty odd pounds in it, butnothinghadbeentaken. Whateverthemotivesof these extraordinary crimes, robbery is certainly not oneofthem. Therewerenopapersormemorandain themurderedman’spocket,exceptasingletelegram, dated from Cleveland about a month ago, and con- tainingthewords,‘J.H.isinEurope.’ Therewasno nameappendedtothismessage.” “Andtherewasnothingelse?”Holmesasked.</s>“Nothing of any importance. The man’s novel, with which he had read himself to sleep was lying uponthebed,andhispipewasonachairbesidehim.</s>There was a glass of water on the table, and on the window-sill a small chip ointment box containing a coupleofpills.” Sherlock Holmes sprang from his chair with an exclamationofdelight.</s>“The last link,” he cried, exultantly. “My case is complete.” Thetwodetectivesstaredathiminamazement.</s>“I have now in my hands,” my companion said, confidently,“allthethreadswhichhaveformedsuch a tangle. There are, of course, details to be filled in, butIamascertainofallthemainfacts,fromthetime that Drebber parted from Stangerson at the station, up to the discovery of the body of the latter, as if I had seen them with my own eyes. I will give you a proof of my knowledge. Could you lay your hand uponthosepills?” “I have them,” said Lestrade, producing a small white box; “I took them and the purse and the tele- gram,intendingtohavethemputinaplaceofsafety at the Police Station. It was the merest chance my takingthesepills,forIamboundtosaythatIdonot attachanyimportancetothem.” “Give them here,” said Holmes. “Now, Doctor,” turningtome,“arethoseordinarypills?” They certainly were not. They were of a pearly grey colour, small, round, and almost transparent against the light. “From their lightness and trans- parency, I should imagine that they are soluble in water,”Iremarked.</s>“Precisely so,” answered Holmes. “Now would you mind going down and fetching that poor little devil of a terrier which has been bad so long, and whichthelandladywantedyoutoputoutofitspain yesterday.” Iwentdownstairsandcarriedthedogupstairin my arms. It’s laboured breathing and glazing eye showed that it was not far from its end. Indeed, its snow-white muzzle proclaimed that it had already exceededtheusualtermofcanineexistence. Iplaced ituponacushionontherug.</s>“I will now cut one of these pills in two,” said Holmes, and drawing his penknife he suited the ac- tion to the word. “One half we return into the box forfuturepurposes. TheotherhalfIwillplaceinthis wine glass, in which is a teaspoonful of water. You perceivethatourfriend,theDoctor,isright,andthat itreadilydissolves.” “Thismaybeveryinteresting,”saidLestrade,in theinjuredtoneofonewhosuspectsthatheisbeing laughedat,“Icannotsee,however,whatithastodo withthedeathofMr.JosephStangerson.” “Patience, my friend, patience! You will find in timethatithaseverythingtodowithit. Ishallnow addalittlemilktomakethemixturepalatable,and onpresentingittothedogwefindthathelapsitup readilyenough.” As he spoke he turned the contents of the wine glassintoasaucerandplaceditinfrontoftheterrier, whospeedilylickeditdry. SherlockHolmes’earnest demeanourhadsofarconvincedusthatweallsatin silence,watchingtheanimalintently,andexpecting somestartlingeffect. Nonesuchappeared,however.</s>Thedogcontinuedtoliestretcheduponthecushion, breathinginalabouredway,butapparentlyneither thebetternortheworseforitsdraught.</s>Holmes had taken out his watch, and as minute followedminutewithoutresult,anexpressionofthe utmostchagrinanddisappointmentappearedupon hisfeatures. Hegnawedhislip,drummedhisfingers upon the table, and showed every other symptom of acute impatience. So great was his emotion, that I felt sincerely sorry for him, while the two detec- tivessmiledderisively,bynomeansdispleasedatthis checkwhichhehadmet.</s>“Itcan’tbeacoincidence,”hecried,atlastspring- ing from his chair and pacing wildly up and down the room; “it is impossible that it should be a mere coincidence. TheverypillswhichIsuspectedinthe caseofDrebberareactuallyfoundafterthedeathof Stangerson. Andyettheyareinert. Whatcanitmean? Surelymywholechainofreasoningcannothavebeenfalse. It is impossible! And yet this wretched dog is none the worse. Ah, I have it! I have it!” With a perfect shriek of delight he rushed to the box, cut the other pill in two, dissolved it, added milk, and presentedittotheterrier. Theunfortunatecreature’s tongue seemed hardly to have been moistened in it beforeitgaveaconvulsiveshiverineverylimb,and lay as rigid and lifeless as if it had been struck by lightning.</s>SherlockHolmesdrewalongbreath,andwiped the perspiration from his forehead. “I should have more faith,” he said; “I ought to know by this time thatwhenafactappearstobeopposedtoalongtrain of deductions, it invariably proves to be capable of bearingsomeotherinterpretation. Ofthetwopillsin thatboxonewasofthemostdeadlypoison,andthe otherwasentirelyharmless. Ioughttohaveknown thatbeforeeverIsawtheboxatall.” This last statement appeared to me to be so startling,thatIcouldhardlybelievethathewasinhis sober senses. There was the dead dog, however, to provethathisconjecturehadbeencorrect. Itseemed to me that the mists in my own mind were gradu- allyclearingaway,andIbegantohaveadim,vague perceptionofthetruth.</s>“Allthisseemsstrangetoyou,”continuedHolmes, “because you failed at the beginning of the inquiry tograsptheimportanceofthesinglerealcluewhich was presented to you. I had the good fortune to seizeuponthat,andeverythingwhichhasoccurred sincethenhasservedtoconfirmmyoriginalsuppo- sition, and, indeed, was the logical sequence of it.</s>Hence things which have perplexed you and made the case more obscure, have served to enlighten me andtostrengthenmyconclusions. Itisamistaketo confound strangeness with mystery. The most com- monplacecrimeisoftenthemostmysteriousbecause it presents no new or special features from which deductionsmaybedrawn. Thismurderwouldhave beeninfinitelymoredifficulttounravelhadthebody ofthevictimbeensimplyfoundlyingintheroadway withoutanyofthoseoutre´ andsensationalaccompa- niments which have rendered it remarkable. These strangedetails,farfrommakingthecasemorediffi- cult,havereallyhadtheeffectofmakingitlessso.” Mr. Gregson, who had listened to this address withconsiderableimpatience,couldcontainhimself no longer. “Look here, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” he said,“weareallreadytoacknowledgethatyouarea smartman,andthatyouhaveyourownmethodsof working. Wewantsomethingmorethanmeretheory and preaching now, though. It is a case of taking the man. I have made my case out, and it seems I waswrong. YoungCharpentiercouldnothavebeen engagedinthissecondaffair. Lestradewentafterhis man, Stangerson, and it appears that he was wrong too. Youhavethrownouthintshere,andhintsthere, andseemtoknowmorethanwedo,butthetimehas come when we feel that we have a right to ask you straighthowmuchyoudoknowofthebusiness. Can younamethemanwhodidit?” “I cannot help feeling that Gregson is right, sir,” remarkedLestrade. “Wehavebothtried,andwehave bothfailed. Youhaveremarkedmorethanoncesince Ihavebeenintheroomthatyouhadalltheevidence which you require. Surely you will not withhold it anylonger.” “Anydelayinarrestingtheassassin,”Iobserved, “mightgivehimtimetoperpetratesomefreshatroc- ity.” Thus pressed by us all, Holmes showed signs of irresolution. Hecontinuedtowalkupanddownthe roomwithhisheadsunkonhischestandhisbrows drawndown,aswashishabitwhenlostinthought.</s>“Therewillbenomoremurders,”hesaidatlast, stopping abruptly and facing us. “You can put that consideration out of the question. You have asked me if I know the name of the assassin. I do. The mereknowingofhisnameisasmallthing,however, comparedwiththepoweroflayingourhandsupon him. This I expect very shortly to do. I have good hopesofmanagingitthroughmyownarrangements; but it is a thing which needs delicate handling, for we have a shrewd and desperate man to deal with, whoissupported,asIhavehadoccasiontoprove,by another who is as clever as himself. As long as this manhasnoideathatanyonecanhaveacluethereis somechanceofsecuringhim;butifhehadtheslight- estsuspicion,hewouldchangehisname,andvanish in an instant among the four million inhabitants of thisgreatcity. Withoutmeaningtohurteitherofyour feelings,IamboundtosaythatIconsiderthesemen tobemorethanamatchfortheofficialforce,andthat iswhyIhavenotaskedyourassistance. IfIfailIshall, of course, incur all the blame due to this omission; but that I am prepared for. At present I am ready to promise that the instant that I can communicate withyouwithoutendangeringmyowncombinations, Ishalldoso.” GregsonandLestradeseemedtobefarfromsatis- fiedbythisassurance,orbythedepreciatingallusion tothedetectivepolice. Theformerhadflushedupto the roots of his flaxen hair, while the other’s beadyeyesglistenedwithcuriosityandresentment. Neither ofthemhadtimetospeak,however,beforetherewas a tap at the door, and the spokesman of the street Arabs, young Wiggins, introduced his insignificant andunsavouryperson.</s>“Please,sir,”hesaid,touchinghisforelock,“Ihave thecabdownstairs.” “Good boy,” said Holmes, blandly. “Why don’t youintroducethispatternatScotlandYard?”hecon- tinued,takingapairofsteelhandcuffsfromadrawer.</s>“Seehowbeautifullythespringworks. Theyfastenin aninstant.” “The old pattern is good enough,” remarked Lestrade, “if we can only find the man to put them on.” “Very good, very good,” said Holmes, smiling.</s>“The cabman may as well help me with my boxes.</s>Justaskhimtostepup,Wiggins.” I was surprised to find my companion speaking asthoughhewereabouttosetoutonajourney,since he had not said anything to me about it. There was asmallportmanteauintheroom,andthishepulled outandbegantostrap. Hewasbusilyengagedatit whenthecabmanenteredtheroom.</s>“Just give me a help with this buckle, cabman,” hesaid,kneelingoverhistask,andneverturninghis head.</s>Thefellowcameforwardwithasomewhatsullen, defiantair,andputdownhishandstoassist. Atthat instanttherewasasharpclick,thejanglingofmetal, andSherlockHolmessprangtohisfeetagain.</s>“Gentlemen,”hecried,withflashingeyes,“letme introduceyoutoMr.JeffersonHope,themurdererof EnochDrebberandofJosephStangerson.” The whole thing occurred in a moment—so quicklythatIhadnotimetorealizeit. Ihaveavivid recollection of that instant, of Holmes’ triumphant expressionandtheringofhisvoice,ofthecabman’s dazed,savageface,asheglaredattheglitteringhand- cuffs, which had appeared as if by magic upon his wrists. For a second or two we might have been a group of statues. Then, with an inarticulate roar of fury, the prisoner wrenched himself free from Holmes’sgrasp,andhurledhimselfthroughthewin- dow. Woodworkandglassgavewaybeforehim;but beforehegotquitethrough,Gregson,Lestrade,and Holmessprang uponhimlike somanystaghounds.</s>He was dragged back into the room, and then com- mencedaterrificconflict. Sopowerfulandsofierce washe,thatthefourofuswereshakenoffagainand again. Heappearedtohavetheconvulsivestrength ofamaninanepilepticfit. Hisfaceandhandswere terriblymangledbyhispassagethroughtheglass,but loss of blood had no effect in diminishing his resis- tance. ItwasnotuntilLestradesucceededingetting hishandinsidehisneckclothandhalf-stranglinghim that we made him realize that his struggles were of no avail; and even then we felt no security until we hadpinionedhisfeetaswellashishands. Thatdone, werosetoourfeetbreathlessandpanting.</s>“Wehavehiscab,”saidSherlockHolmes. “Itwill servetotakehimtoScotlandYard. Andnow,gentle- men,”hecontinued,withapleasantsmile,“wehave reached the end of our little mystery. You are very welcometoputanyquestionsthatyouliketomenow, and there is no danger that I will refuse to answer them.”CHAP n he reat O T G InthecentralportionofthegreatNorthAmer- icanContinentthereliesanaridandrepulsivedesert, whichformanyalongyearservedasabarrieragainst the advance of civilisation. From the Sierra Nevada to Nebraska, and from the Yellowstone River in the northtotheColoradouponthesouth,isaregionof desolationandsilence. NorisNaturealwaysinone mood throughout this grim district. It comprises snow-capped and lofty mountains, and dark and gloomyvalleys. Thereareswift-flowingriverswhich dashthroughjaggedcan˜ons;andthereareenormous plains,whichinwinterarewhitewithsnow,andin summer are grey with the saline alkali dust. They allpreserve,however,thecommoncharacteristicsof barrenness,inhospitality,andmisery.</s>There are no inhabitants of this land of despair.</s>AbandofPawneesorofBlackfeetmayoccasionally traverse it in order to reach other hunting-grounds, butthehardiestofthebravesaregladtolosesightof those awesome plains, and to find themselves once more upon their prairies. The coyote skulks among thescrub,thebuzzardflapsheavilythroughtheair, and the clumsy grizzly bear lumbers through the darkravines,andpicksupsuchsustenanceasitcan amongsttherocks. Thesearethesoledwellersinthe wilderness.</s>In the whole world there can be no more dreary viewthanthatfromthenorthernslopeoftheSierra Blanco. Asfarastheeyecanreachstretchesthegreat flatplain-land,alldustedoverwithpatchesofalkali, andintersectedbyclumpsofthedwarfishchaparral bushes. Ontheextremevergeofthehorizonliealong chainofmountainpeaks,withtheirruggedsummits flecked with snow. In this great stretch of country there is no sign of life, nor of anything appertain- ing to life. There is no bird in the steel-blue heaven, no movement upon the dull, grey earth—above all, there is absolute silence. Listen as one may, there is noshadowofasoundinallthatmightywilderness; nothing but silence—complete and heart-subduing silence.</s>It has been said there is nothing appertaining to lifeuponthebroadplain. Thatishardlytrue. Look- ingdownfromtheSierraBlanco,oneseesapathway tracedoutacrossthedesert,whichwindsawayandis lostintheextremedistance. Itisruttedwithwheels andtroddendownbythefeetofmanyadventurers.</s>Hereandtheretherearescatteredwhiteobjectswhich PTER I.</s>t lkali lain A P glisteninthesun,andstandoutagainstthedullde- posit of alkali. Approach, and examine them! They arebones: somelargeandcoarse,otherssmallerand moredelicate. Theformerhavebelongedtooxen,and thelattertomen. Forfifteenhundredmilesonemay trace this ghastly caravan route by these scattered remainsofthosewhohadfallenbythewayside.</s>Looking down on this very scene, there stood uponthefourthofMay,eighteenhundredandforty- seven, a solitary traveller. His appearance was such thathemighthavebeentheverygeniusordemonof theregion. Anobserverwouldhavefounditdifficult tosaywhetherhewasnearertofortyortosixty. His facewasleanandhaggard,andthebrownparchment- likeskinwasdrawntightlyovertheprojectingbones; hislong,brownhairandbeardwereallfleckedand dashedwithwhite;hiseyesweresunkeninhishead, andburnedwithanunnaturallustre;whilethehand whichgraspedhisriflewashardlymorefleshythan that of a skeleton. As he stood, he leaned upon his weapon for support, and yet his tall figure and the massive framework of his bones suggested a wiry and vigorous constitution. His gaunt face, however, andhisclothes,whichhungsobaggilyoverhisshriv- elled limbs, proclaimed what it was that gave him that senile and decrepit appearance. The man was dying—dyingfromhungerandfromthirst.</s>Hehadtoiledpainfullydowntheravine,andon tothislittleelevation,inthevainhopeofseeingsome signs of water. Now the great salt plain stretched beforehiseyes,andthedistantbeltofsavagemoun- tains,withoutasignanywhereofplantortree,which might indicate the presence of moisture. In all that broadlandscapetherewasnogleamofhope. North, andeast,andwesthelookedwithwildquestioning eyes, and then he realised that his wanderings had come to an end, and that there, on that barren crag, he was about to die. “Why not here, as well as in a featherbed,twentyyearshence,”hemuttered,ashe seatedhimselfintheshelterofaboulder.</s>Before sitting down, he had deposited upon the groundhisuselessrifle,andalsoalargebundletied upinagreyshawl,whichhehadcarriedslungover his right shoulder. It appeared to be somewhat too heavyforhisstrength,forinloweringit,itcamedown on the ground with some little violence. Instantly therebrokefromthegreyparcelalittlemoaningcry, andfromitthereprotrudedasmall,scaredface,withverybrightbrowneyes,andtwolittlespeckled,dim- pledfists.</s>“You’vehurtme!”saidachildishvoicereproach- fully.</s>“HaveIthough,”themanansweredpenitently,“I didn’tgofortodoit.”Ashespokeheunwrappedthe greyshawlandextricatedaprettylittlegirlofabout fiveyearsofage,whosedaintyshoesandsmartpink frockwithitslittlelinenapronallbespokeamother’s care. The child was pale and wan, but her healthy armsandlegsshowedthatshehadsufferedlessthan hercompanion.</s>“Howisitnow?”heansweredanxiously,forshe was still rubbing the towsy golden curls which cov- eredthebackofherhead.</s>“Kissitandmakeitwell,”shesaid,withperfect gravity, shoving the injured part up to him. “That’s whatmotherusedtodo. Where’smother?” “Mother’s gone. I guess you’ll see her before long.” “Gone,eh!”saidthelittlegirl. “Funny,shedidn’t say good-bye; she ’most always did if she was just goin’ over to Auntie’s for tea, and now she’s been away three days. Say, it’s awful dry, ain’t it? Ain’t therenowater,nornothingtoeat?” “No,thereain’tnothing,dearie. You’lljustneed tobepatientawhile,andthenyou’llbeallright. Put yourheadupaginmelikethat,andthenyou’llfeel bullier. It ain’t easy to talk when your lips is like leather, but I guess I’d best let you know how the cardslie. What’sthatyou’vegot?” “Pretty things! fine things!” cried the little girl enthusiastically,holdinguptwoglitteringfragments ofmica. “WhenwegoesbacktohomeI’llgivethem tobrotherBob.” “You’ll see prettier things than them soon,” said themanconfidently. “Youjustwaitabit. Iwasgoing totellyouthough—yourememberwhenweleftthe river?” “Oh,yes.” “Well,wereckonedwe’dstrikeanotherriversoon, d’yesee. Buttherewassomethin’wrong;compasses, or map, or somethin’, and it didn’t turn up. Water ran out. Just except a little drop for the likes of you and—and—” “Andyoucouldn’twashyourself,”interruptedhis companiongravely,staringupathisgrimyvisage.</s>“No,nordrink. AndMr.Bender,hewasthefust to go, and then Indian Pete, and then Mrs. McGre- gor, and then Johnny Hones, and then, dearie, your mother.” “Thenmother’sadeadertoo,”criedthelittlegirl droppingherfaceinherpinaforeandsobbingbitterly.</s>“Yes, they all went except you and me. Then I thought there was some chance of water in this di- rection, so I heaved you over my shoulder and we tramped it together. It don’t seem as though we’ve improvedmatters. There’sanalmightysmallchance forusnow!” “Doyoumeanthatwearegoingtodietoo?”asked the child, checking her sobs, and raising her tear- stainedface.</s>“Iguessthat’saboutthesizeofit.” “Whydidn’tyousaysobefore?”shesaid,laugh- ing gleefully. “You gave me such a fright. Why, of course, now as long as we die we’ll be with mother again.” “Yes,youwill,dearie.” “Andyoutoo. I’lltellherhowawfulgoodyou’ve been. I’llbetshemeetsusatthedoorofHeavenwith abigpitcherofwater,andalotofbuckwheatcakes, hot,andtoastedonbothsides,likeBobandmewas fondof. Howlongwillitbefirst?” “I don’t know—not very long.” The man’s eyes were fixed upon the northern horizon. In the blue vault of the heaven there had appeared three little specks which increased in size every moment, so rapidly did they approach. They speedily resolved themselvesintothreelargebrownbirds,whichcircled overtheheadsofthetwowanderers,andthensettled uponsomerockswhichoverlookedthem. Theywere buzzards,thevulturesofthewest,whosecomingis theforerunnerofdeath.</s>“Cocks and hens,” cried the little girl gleefully, pointingattheirill-omenedforms,andclappingher hands to make them rise. “Say, did God make this country?” “Of course He did,” said her companion, rather startledbythisunexpectedquestion.</s>“He made the country down in Illinois, and He madetheMissouri,”thelittlegirlcontinued. “Iguess somebodyelsemadethecountryintheseparts. It’s not nearly so well done. They forgot the water and thetrees.” “Whatwouldyethinkofofferingupprayer?”the manaskeddiffidently.</s>“Itain’tnightyet,”sheanswered.“It don’t matter. It ain’t quite regular, but He won’t mind that, you bet. You say over them ones thatyouusedtosayeverynightinthewaggonwhen wewasonthePlains.” “Why don’t you say some yourself?” the child asked,withwonderingeyes.</s>“Idisrememberthem,”heanswered. “Ihain’tsaid nonesinceIwashalftheheighto’thatgun. Iguess it’snevertoolate. Yousaythemout,andI’llstandby andcomeinonthechoruses.” “Thenyou’llneedtokneeldown,andmetoo,”she said,layingtheshawloutforthatpurpose. “You’ve gottoputyourhandsuplikethis. Itmakesyoufeel kindo’good.” Itwasastrangesighthadtherebeenanythingbut the buzzards to see it. Side by side on the narrow shawl knelt the two wanderers, the little prattling child and the reckless, hardened adventurer. Her chubby face, and his haggard, angular visage were both turned up to the cloudless heaven in heartfelt entreaty to that dread being with whom they were face to face, while the two voices—the one thin and clear, the other deep and harsh—united in the en- treatyformercyandforgiveness. Theprayerfinished, theyresumedtheirseatintheshadowoftheboulder until the child fell asleep, nestling upon the broad breastofherprotector. Hewatchedoverherslumber forsometime,butNatureprovedtobetoostrongfor him. Forthreedaysandthreenightshehadallowed himself neither rest nor repose. Slowly the eyelids droopedoverthetiredeyes,andtheheadsunklower and lower upon the breast, until the man’s grizzled beard was mixed with the gold tresses of his com- panion,andbothsleptthesamedeepanddreamless slumber.</s>Had the wanderer remained awake for another half hour a strange sight would have met his eyes.</s>Far away on the extreme verge of the alkali plain thereroseupalittlesprayofdust,veryslightatfirst, andhardlytobedistinguishedfromthemistsofthe distance,butgraduallygrowinghigherandbroader untilitformedasolid,well-definedcloud. Thiscloud continuedtoincreaseinsizeuntilitbecameevident that it could only be raised by a great multitude of movingcreatures. Inmorefertilespotstheobserver wouldhavecometotheconclusionthatoneofthose great herds of bisons which graze upon the prairie land was approaching him. This was obviously im- possible in these arid wilds. As the whirl of dust drewnearertothesolitarybluffuponwhichthetwo castawayswerereposing,thecanvas-coveredtiltsof waggons and the figures of armed horsemen began toshowupthroughthehaze,andtheapparitionre- vealeditselfasbeingagreatcaravanuponitsjourney for the West. But what a caravan! When the head ofithadreachedthebaseofthemountains,therear was not yet visible on the horizon. Right across the enormous plain stretched the straggling array, wag- gonsandcarts,menonhorseback,andmenonfoot.</s>Innumerablewomenwhostaggeredalongunderbur- dens,andchildrenwhotoddledbesidethewaggons orpeepedoutfromunderthewhitecoverings. This wasevidentlynoordinarypartyofimmigrants,but rathersomenomadpeoplewhohadbeencompelled fromstressofcircumstancestoseekthemselvesanew country. Thererosethroughtheclearairaconfused clattering and rumbling from this great mass of hu- manity,withthecreakingofwheelsandtheneighing ofhorses. Loudasitwas,itwasnotsufficienttorouse thetwotiredwayfarersabovethem.</s>At the head of the column there rode a score or more of grave ironfaced men, clad in sombre home- spun garments and armed with rifles. On reaching the base of the bluff they halted, and held a short councilamongthemselves.</s>“Thewellsaretotheright,mybrothers,”saidone, ahard-lipped,clean-shavenmanwithgrizzlyhair.</s>“To the right of the Sierra Blanco—so we shall reachtheRioGrande,”saidanother.</s>“Fearnotforwater,”criedathird. “Hewhocould drawitfromtherockswillnotnowabandonHisown chosenpeople.” “Amen! Amen!”respondedthewholeparty.</s>They were about to resume their journey when oneoftheyoungestandkeenest-eyedutteredanexcla- mationandpointedupattheruggedcragabovethem.</s>Fromitssummitthereflutteredalittlewispofpink, showing up hard and bright against the grey rocks behind. Atthesighttherewasageneralreiningupof horsesandunslingingofguns,whilefreshhorsemen came galloping up to reinforce the vanguard. The word“Redskins”wasoneverylip.</s>“Therecan’tbeanynumberofInjunshere,”said the elderly man who appeared to be in command.</s>“WehavepassedthePawnees,andtherearenoother tribesuntilwecrossthegreatmountains.” “ShallIgoforwardandsee,BrotherStangerson,” askedoneoftheband.</s>“AndI,”“andI,”criedadozenvoices.</s>“Leaveyourhorsesbelowandwewillawaityou here,” the Elder answered. In a moment the young fellows had dismounted, fastened their horses, and were ascending the precipitous slope which led uptotheobjectwhichhadexcitedtheircuriosity. They advancedrapidlyandnoiselessly,withtheconfidence anddexterityofpractisedscouts. Thewatchersfrom theplainbelowcouldseethemflitfromrocktorock untiltheirfiguresstoodoutagainsttheskyline. The youngmanwhohadfirstgiventhealarmwasleading them. Suddenlyhisfollowerssawhimthrowuphis hands,asthoughovercomewithastonishment,and onjoininghimtheywereaffectedinthesamewayby thesightwhichmettheireyes.</s>On the little plateau which crowned the barren hill there stood a single giant boulder, and against this boulder there lay a tall man, long-bearded and hard-featured,butofanexcessivethinness. Hisplacid face and regular breathing showed that he was fast asleep. Beside him lay a little child, with her round whitearmsencirclinghisbrownsinewyneck,andher goldenhairedheadrestinguponthebreastofhisvel- veteentunic. Herrosylipswereparted,showingthe regularlineofsnow-whiteteethwithin,andaplayful smile played over her infantile features. Her plump littlewhitelegsterminatinginwhitesocksandneat shoeswithshiningbuckles,offeredastrangecontrast tothelongshrivelledmembersofhercompanion. On theledgeofrockabovethisstrangecoupletherestood threesolemnbuzzards,who,atthesightofthenew comers uttered raucous screams of disappointment andflappedsullenlyaway.</s>Thecriesofthefoulbirdsawokethetwosleepers who stared about them in bewilderment. The man staggeredtohisfeetandlookeddownupontheplain whichhadbeensodesolatewhensleephadovertaken him,andwhichwasnowtraversedbythisenormous bodyofmenandofbeasts. Hisfaceassumedanex- pression of incredulity as he gazed, and he passed hisboneyhandoverhiseyes. “Thisiswhattheycall delirium,Iguess,”hemuttered. Thechildstoodbe- sidehim,holdingontotheskirtofhiscoat,andsaid nothingbutlookedallroundherwiththewondering questioninggazeofchildhood.</s>Therescuingpartywerespeedilyabletoconvince thetwocastawaysthattheirappearancewasnodelu- sion. One of them seized the little girl, and hoisted her upon his shoulder, while two others supported hergauntcompanion,andassistedhimtowardsthe waggons.</s>“My name is John Ferrier,” the wanderer ex- plained; “me and that little un are all that’s left o’ twenty-onepeople. Therestisalldeado’thirstand hungerawaydowninthesouth.” “Issheyourchild?”askedsomeone.</s>“I guess she is now,” the other cried, defiantly; “she’smine’causeIsavedher. Nomanwilltakeher from me. She’s Lucy Ferrier from this day on. Who areyou,though?”hecontinued,glancingwithcurios- ityathisstalwart,sunburnedrescuers;“thereseems tobeapowerfullotofye.” “Nighupontenthousand,”saidoneoftheyoung men; “we are the persecuted children of God—the chosenoftheAngelMerona.” “I never heard tell on him,” said the wanderer.</s>“Heappearstohavechosenafaircrowdofye.” “Donotjestatthatwhichissacred,”saidtheother sternly. “Weareofthosewhobelieveinthosesacred writings,drawninEgyptianlettersonplatesofbeaten gold,whichwerehandeduntotheholyJosephSmith atPalmyra. WehavecomefromNauvoo,intheState of Illinois, where we had founded our temple. We havecometoseekarefugefromtheviolentmanand from the godless, even though it be the heart of the desert.” The name of Nauvoo evidently recalled recollec- tions to John Ferrier. “I see,” he said, “you are the Mormons.” “WearetheMormons,”answeredhiscompanions withonevoice.</s>“Andwhereareyougoing?” “We do not know. The hand of God is leading usunderthepersonofourProphet. Youmustcome before him. He shall say what is to be done with you.” Theyhadreachedthebaseofthehillbythistime, andweresurroundedbycrowdsofthepilgrims—pale- facedmeek-lookingwomen,stronglaughingchildren, andanxiousearnest-eyedmen. Manywerethecries of astonishment and of commiseration which arose fromthemwhentheyperceivedtheyouthofoneof the strangers and the destitution of the other. Their escortdidnothalt,however,butpushedon,followed by a great crowd of Mormons, until they reached a waggon,whichwasconspicuousforitsgreatsizeand forthegaudinessandsmartnessofitsappearance. Six horseswereyokedtoit,whereastheotherswerefur- nishedwithtwo,or,atmost,foura-piece. Besidethe drivertheresatamanwhocouldnothavebeenmore thanthirtyyearsofage,butwhosemassiveheadand resoluteexpressionmarkedhimasaleader. Hewas reading a brown-backed volume, but as the crowd approachedhelaiditaside,andlistenedattentively to an account of the episode. Then he turned to the twocastaways.</s>“Ifwetakeyouwithus,”hesaid,insolemnwords, “itcanonlybeasbelieversinourowncreed. Weshallhavenowolvesinourfold. Betterfarthatyourbones shouldbleachinthiswildernessthanthatyoushould prove to be that little speck of decay which in time corrupts the whole fruit. Will you come with us on theseterms?” “GuessI’llcomewithyouonanyterms,”saidFer- rier,withsuchemphasisthatthegraveElderscould not restrain a smile. The leader alone retained his stern,impressiveexpression.</s>“Take him, Brother Stangerson,” he said, “give himfoodanddrink,andthechildlikewise. Letitbe yourtaskalsototeachhimourholycreed. Wehave delayedlongenough. Forward! On,ontoZion!” “On, on to Zion!” cried the crowd of Mormons, CHAP he lowe T F This is not the place to commemorate the tri- als and privations endured by the immigrant Mor- mons before they came to their final haven. From theshoresoftheMississippitothewesternslopesof the Rocky Mountains they had struggled on with a constancyalmostunparalleledinhistory. Thesavage man,andthesavagebeast,hunger,thirst,fatigue,and disease—everyimpedimentwhichNaturecouldplace intheway—hadallbeenovercomewithAnglo-Saxon tenacity. Yet the long journey and the accumulated terrorshad shakentheheartsofthestoutest among them. Therewasnotonewhodidnotsinkuponhis knees in heartfelt prayer when they saw the broad valley of Utah bathed in the sunlight beneath them, andlearnedfromthelipsoftheirleaderthatthiswas the promised land, and that these virgin acres were tobetheirsforevermore.</s>Youngspeedilyprovedhimselftobeaskilfulad- ministrator as well as a resolute chief. Maps were drawnandchartsprepared,inwhichthefuturecity wassketchedout. Allaroundfarmswereapportioned andallottedinproportiontothestandingofeachin- dividual. Thetradesmanwasputtohistradeandthe artisantohiscalling. Inthetownstreetsandsquares sprang up, as if by magic. In the country there was draining and hedging, planting and clearing, until andthewordsrippleddownthelongcaravan,pass- ing from mouth to mouth until they died away in a dullmurmurin thefardistance. Withacracking of whips and a creaking of wheels the great waggons got into motion, and soon the whole caravan was winding along once more. The Elder to whose care the two waifs had been committed, led them to his waggon,whereamealwasalreadyawaitingthem.</s>“Youshallremainhere,”hesaid. “Inafewdays you will have recovered from your fatigues. In the meantime,rememberthatnowandforeveryouareof ourreligion. BrighamYounghassaidit,andhehas spokenwiththevoiceofJosephSmith,whichisthe voiceofGod.” TER II.</s>er f tah O U thenextsummersawthewholecountrygoldenwith thewheatcrop. Everythingprosperedinthestrange settlement. Above all, the great temple which they haderectedinthecentreofthecitygrewevertaller andlarger. Fromthefirstblushofdawnuntiltheclos- ingofthetwilight,theclatterofthehammerandthe raspofthesawwasneverabsentfromthemonument which the immigrants erected to Him who had led themsafethroughmanydangers.</s>Thetwocastaways,JohnFerrierandthelittlegirl whohadsharedhisfortunesandhadbeenadopted as his daughter, accompanied the Mormons to the endoftheirgreatpilgrimage. LittleLucyFerrierwas bornealongpleasantlyenoughinElderStangerson’s waggon, a retreat which she shared with the Mor- mon’s three wives and with his son, a headstrong forwardboyoftwelve. Havingrallied,withtheelas- ticity of childhood, from the shock caused by her mother’s death, she soon became a pet with the women, and reconciled herself to this new life in her moving canvas-covered home. In the meantime Ferrier having recovered from his privations, distin- guishedhimselfasausefulguideandanindefatiga- ble hunter. So rapidly did he gain the esteem of his newcompanions,thatwhentheyreachedtheendof theirwanderings,itwasunanimouslyagreedthatheshouldbeprovidedwithaslargeandasfertileatract of land as any of the settlers, with the exception of Younghimself,andofStangerson,Kemball,Johnston, andDrebber,whowerethefourprincipalElders.</s>OnthefarmthusacquiredJohnFerrierbuilthim- selfasubstantiallog-house,whichreceivedsomany additions in succeeding years that it grew into a roomy villa. He was a man of a practical turn of mind,keeninhisdealingsandskilfulwithhishands.</s>His iron constitution enabled him to work morning andeveningatimprovingandtillinghislands. Hence itcameaboutthathisfarmandallthatbelongedto him prospered exceedingly. In three years he was betteroffthanhisneighbours,insixhewaswell-to- do,inninehewasrich,andintwelvetherewerenot halfadozenmeninthewholeofSaltLakeCitywho couldcomparewithhim. Fromthegreatinlandseato thedistantWahsatchMountainstherewasnoname betterknownthanthatofJohnFerrier.</s>Therewasonewayandonlyoneinwhichheof- fended the susceptibilities of his co-religionists. No argumentorpersuasioncouldeverinducehimtoset up a female establishment after the manner of his companions. Henevergavereasonsforthispersistent refusal,butcontentedhimselfbyresolutelyandinflex- iblyadheringtohisdetermination. Thereweresome whoaccusedhimoflukewarmnessinhisadoptedre- ligion,andotherswhoputitdowntogreedofwealth andreluctancetoincurexpense. Others,again,spoke ofsomeearlyloveaffair,andofafair-hairedgirlwho hadpinedawayontheshoresoftheAtlantic. What- everthereason,Ferrierremainedstrictlycelibate. In every other respect he conformed to the religion of theyoungsettlement,andgainedthenameofbeing anorthodoxandstraight-walkingman.</s>Lucy Ferrier grew up within the log-house, and assisted her adopted father in all his undertakings.</s>Thekeenairofthemountainsandthebalsamicodour ofthepinetreestooktheplaceofnurseandmother totheyounggirl. Asyearsucceededtoyearshegrew taller and stronger, her cheek more rudy, and her step more elastic. Many a wayfarer upon the high roadwhichranbyFerrier’sfarmfeltlong-forgotten thoughts revive in their mind as they watched her lithegirlishfiguretrippingthroughthewheatfields, ormethermounteduponherfather’smustang,and managingitwithalltheeaseandgraceofatruechild oftheWest. Sothebudblossomedintoaflower,and theyearwhichsawherfathertherichestofthefarm- ersleftherasfairaspecimenofAmericangirlhood ascouldbefoundinthewholePacificslope.</s>It was not the father, however, who first discov- eredthatthechildhaddevelopedintothewoman. It seldom is in such cases. That mysterious change is toosubtleandtoogradualtobemeasuredbydates.</s>Leastofalldoesthemaidenherselfknowituntilthe toneofavoiceorthetouchofahandsetsherheart thrilling within her, and she learns, with a mixture of pride and of fear, that a new and a larger nature has awoken within her. There are few who cannot recall that day and remember the one little incident which heralded the dawn of a new life. In the case of Lucy Ferrier the occasion was serious enough in itself, apart from its future influence on her destiny andthatofmanybesides.</s>ItwasawarmJunemorning,andtheLatterDay Saintswereasbusyasthebeeswhosehivetheyhave chosen for their emblem. In the fields and in the streetsrosethesamehumofhumanindustry. Down thedustyhighroadsdefiledlongstreamsofheavily- laden mules, all heading to the west, for the gold feverhadbrokenoutinCalifornia,andtheOverland Route lay through the City of the Elect. There, too, weredrovesofsheepandbullockscominginfromthe outlyingpasturelands,andtrainsoftiredimmigrants, menandhorsesequallywearyoftheirinterminable journey. Throughallthismotleyassemblage,thread- ing her way with the skill of an accomplished rider, theregallopedLucyFerrier,herfairfaceflushedwith the exercise and her long chestnut hair floating out behind her. She had a commission from her father in the City, and was dashing in as she had done manyatimebefore,withallthefearlessnessofyouth, thinking only of her task and how it was to be per- formed. The travel-stained adventurers gazed after her in astonishment, and even the unemotional In- dians, journeying in with their pelties, relaxed their accustomedstoicismastheymarvelledatthebeauty ofthepale-facedmaiden.</s>She had reached the outskirts of the city when she found the road blocked by a great drove of cat- tle, driven by a half-dozen wild-looking herdsmen fromtheplains. Inherimpatiencesheendeavoured topassthisobstaclebypushingherhorseintowhat appearedtobeagap. Scarcelyhadshegotfairlyinto it, however, before the beasts closed in behind her, and she found herself completely imbedded in the movingstreamoffierce-eyed,long-hornedbullocks.</s>Accustomed as she was to deal with cattle, she was not alarmed at her situation, but took advantage of everyopportunitytourgeherhorseoninthehopes of pushing her way through the cavalcade. Unfor- tunately the horns of one of the creatures, either byaccidentordesign, cameinviolentcontactwiththe flank of the mustang, and excited it to madness. In aninstantitrearedupuponitshindlegswithasnort ofrage,andprancedandtossedinawaythatwould have unseated any but a most skilful rider. The sit- uationwasfullofperil. Everyplungeoftheexcited horsebroughtitagainstthehornsagain,andgoaded it to fresh madness. It was all that the girl could do tokeepherselfinthesaddle,yetaslipwouldmean aterribledeathunderthehoofsoftheunwieldyand terrifiedanimals. Unaccustomedtosuddenemergen- cies,herheadbegantoswim,andhergripuponthe bridle to relax. Choked by the rising cloud of dust andbythesteamfromthestrugglingcreatures, she mighthaveabandonedhereffortsindespair,butfor akindlyvoiceatherelbowwhichassuredherofas- sistance. Atthesamemomentasinewybrownhand caughtthefrightenedhorsebythecurb,andforcing a way through the drove, soon brought her to the outskirts.</s>“You’renothurt,Ihope,miss,”saidherpreserver, respectfully.</s>Shelookedupathisdark,fierceface,andlaughed saucily. “I’m awful frightened,” she said, naively; “whoever would have thought that Poncho would havebeensoscaredbyalotofcows?” “Thank God you kept your seat,” the other said earnestly. Hewasatall,savage-lookingyoungfellow, mounted on a powerful roan horse, and clad in the roughdressofahunter,withalongrifleslungover hisshoulders. “IguessyouarethedaughterofJohn Ferrier,”heremarked,“Isawyouridedownfromhis house. Whenyouseehim,askhimifheremembers the Jefferson Hopes of St. Louis. If he’s the same Ferrier,myfatherandhewereprettythick.” “Hadn’t you better come and ask yourself?” she asked,demurely.</s>The young fellow seemed pleased at the sugges- tion, and his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure. “I’ll do so,” he said, “we’ve been in the mountains for two months, and are not over and above in visiting condition. Hemusttakeusashefindsus.” “Hehasagooddealtothankyoufor,andsohave I,” she answered, “he’s awful fond of me. If those cowshadjumpedonmehe’dhavenevergotoverit.” “NeitherwouldI,”saidhercompanion.</s>“You! Well,Idon’tseethatitwouldmakemuch matter to you, anyhow. You ain’t even a friend of ours.” The young hunter’s dark face grew so gloomy overthisremarkthatLucyFerrierlaughedaloud.</s>“There,Ididn’tmeanthat,”shesaid;“ofcourse, you are a friend now. You must come and see us.</s>NowImustpushalong,orfatherwon’ttrustmewith hisbusinessanymore. Good-bye!” “Good-bye,”heanswered,raisinghisbroadsom- brero,andbendingoverherlittlehand. Shewheeled hermustanground,gaveitacutwithherriding-whip, and darted away down the broad road in a rolling cloudofdust.</s>Young Jefferson Hope rode on with his compan- ions, gloomy and taciturn. He and they had been amongtheNevadaMountainsprospectingforsilver, and were returning to Salt Lake City in the hope ofraisingcapitalenoughtoworksomelodeswhich theyhaddiscovered. Hehadbeenaskeenasanyof them upon the business until this sudden incident had drawn his thoughts into another channel. The sightofthefairyounggirl,asfrankandwholesomeas theSierrabreezes,hadstirredhisvolcanic,untamed hearttoitsverydepths. Whenshehadvanishedfrom his sight, he realized that a crisis had come in his life,andthatneithersilverspeculationsnoranyother questionscouldeverbeofsuchimportancetohimas thisnewandall-absorbingone. Thelovewhichhad sprung up in his heart was not the sudden, change- ablefancyofaboy,butratherthewild,fiercepassion ofamanofstrongwillandimperioustemper. Hehad beenaccustomedtosucceedinallthatheundertook.</s>Hesworeinhisheartthathewouldnotfailinthisif humaneffortandhumanperseverancecouldrender himsuccessful.</s>He called on John Ferrier that night, and many times again, until his face was a familiar one at the farm-house. John, cooped up in the valley, and ab- sorbedinhiswork,hadhadlittlechanceoflearning thenewsoftheoutsideworldduringthelasttwelve years. All this Jefferson Hope was able to tell him, and in a style which interested Lucy as well as her father. He had been a pioneer in California, and could narrate many a strange tale of fortunes made and fortunes lost in those wild, halcyon days. He hadbeenascouttoo,andatrapper,asilverexplorer, andaranchman. Whereverstirringadventureswere to be had, Jefferson Hope had been there in search of them. He soon became a favourite with the old farmer,whospokeeloquentlyofhisvirtues. Onsuch occasions, Lucy was silent, but her blushing cheek andherbright,happyeyes,showedonlytooclearly that her young heart was no longer her own. Her honestfathermaynothaveobservedthesesymptoms, but they were assuredly not thrown away upon the manwhohadwonheraffections.Itwasasummereveningwhenhecamegalloping downtheroadandpulledupatthegate. Shewasat thedoorway,andcamedowntomeethim. Hethrew thebridleoverthefenceandstrodeupthepathway.</s>“Iamoff,Lucy,”hesaid,takinghertwohandsin his,andgazingtenderlydownintoherface;“Iwon’t askyoutocomewithmenow,butwillyoubeready tocomewhenIamhereagain?” “Andwhenwillthatbe?”sheasked,blushingand laughing.</s>“A couple of months at the outside. I will come andclaimyouthen,mydarling. There’snoonewho canstandbetweenus.” “Andhowaboutfather?”sheasked.</s>“Hehasgivenhisconsent,providedwegetthese minesworkingallright. Ihavenofearonthathead.” CHAP ohn errier alk J F T Three weeks had passed since Jefferson Hope andhiscomradeshaddepartedfromSaltLakeCity.</s>John Ferrier’s heart was sore within him when he thought of the young man’s return, and of the im- pendinglossofhisadoptedchild. Yetherbrightand happyfacereconciledhimtothearrangementmore thananyargumentcouldhavedone. Hehadalways determined, deep down in his resolute heart, that nothingwouldeverinducehimtoallowhisdaughter to wed a Mormon. Such a marriage he regarded as no marriage at all, but as a shame and a disgrace.</s>Whatever he might think of the Mormon doctrines, uponthatonepointhewasinflexible. Hehadtoseal hismouthonthesubject,however,fortoexpressan unorthodoxopinionwasadangerousmatterinthose daysintheLandoftheSaints.</s>Yes,adangerousmatter—sodangerousthateven the most saintly dared only whisper their religious opinions with bated breath, lest something which fellfromtheirlipsmightbemisconstrued,andbring down a swift retribution upon them. The victims ofpersecutionhadnowturnedpersecutorsontheir own account, and persecutors of the most terrible description. Not the Inquisition of Seville, nor the “Oh, well; of course, if you and father have ar- ranged it all, there’s no more to be said,” she whis- pered,withhercheekagainsthisbroadbreast.</s>“ThankGod!”hesaid,hoarsely,stoopingandkiss- ing her. “It is settled, then. The longer I stay, the harderitwillbetogo. Theyarewaitingformeatthe can˜on. Good-bye,myowndarling—good-bye. Intwo monthsyoushallseeme.” Hetorehimselffromherashespoke,and,fling- inghimselfuponhishorse,gallopedfuriouslyaway, never even looking round, as though afraid that his resolution might fail him if he took one glance at what he was leaving. She stood at the gate, gazing afterhimuntilhevanishedfromhersight. Thenshe walked back into the house, the happiest girl in all Utah.</s>TER III.</s>s ith he rophet W T P GermanVehmgericht,northeSecretSocietiesofItaly, were ever able to put a more formidable machinery inmotionthanthatwhichcastacloudovertheState ofUtah.</s>Its invisibility, and the mystery which was at- tached to it, made this organization doubly terrible.</s>Itappearedtobeomniscientandomnipotent,andyet was neither seen nor heard. The man who held out against the Church vanished away, and none knew whitherhehadgoneorwhathadbefallenhim. His wife and his children awaited him at home, but no father ever returned to tell them how he had fared at the hands of his secret judges. A rash word or a hastyactwasfollowedbyannihilation,andyetnone knewwhatthenaturemightbeofthisterriblepower which was suspended over them. No wonder that menwentaboutinfearandtrembling,andthateven intheheartofthewildernesstheydarednotwhisper thedoubtswhichoppressedthem.</s>At first this vague and terrible power was exer- cised only upon the recalcitrants who, having em- bracedtheMormonfaith,wishedafterwardstoper- vertortoabandonit. Soon,however,ittookawider range. The supply of adult women was runningshort,andpolygamywithoutafemalepopulationon whichtodrawwasabarrendoctrineindeed. Strange rumours began to be bandied about—rumours of murdered immigrants and rifled camps in regions where Indians had never been seen. Fresh women appearedintheharemsoftheElders—womenwho pinedandwept,andboreupontheirfacesthetraces of an unextinguishable horror. Belated wanderers upon the mountains spoke of gangs of armed men, masked,stealthy,andnoiseless,whoflittedbythem in the darkness. These tales and rumours took sub- stance and shape, and were corroborated and re- corroborated, until they resolved themselves into a definitename. Tothisday,inthelonelyranchesofthe West,thenameoftheDaniteBand,ortheAvenging Angels,isasinisterandanill-omenedone.</s>Fullerknowledgeoftheorganizationwhichpro- ducedsuchterribleresultsservedtoincreaserather than to lessen the horror which it inspired in the minds of men. None knew who belonged to this ruthlesssociety. Thenamesoftheparticipatorsinthe deedsofbloodandviolencedoneunderthenameof religionwerekeptprofoundlysecret. Theveryfriend to whom you communicated your misgivings as to the Prophet and his mission, might be one of those whowouldcomeforthatnightwithfireandsword toexactaterriblereparation. Henceeverymanfeared his neighbour, and none spoke of the things which werenearesthisheart.</s>One fine morning, John Ferrier was about to set outtohiswheatfields,whenheheardtheclickofthe latch,and,lookingthroughthewindow,sawastout, sandy-haired,middle-agedmancomingupthepath- way. Hisheartleapttohismouth,forthiswasnone other than the great Brigham Young himself. Full of trepidation—for he knew that such a visit boded him little good—Ferrier ran to the door to greet the Mormonchief. Thelatter,however,receivedhissalu- tationscoldly,andfollowedhimwithasternfaceinto thesitting-room.</s>“BrotherFerrier,”hesaid,takingaseat,andeye- ingthefarmerkeenlyfromunderhislight-coloured eyelashes,“thetruebelievershavebeengoodfriends toyou. Wepickedyouupwhenyouwerestarvingin thedesert,wesharedourfoodwithyou,ledyousafe totheChosenValley,gaveyouagoodlyshareofland, andallowedyoutowaxrichunderourprotection. Is notthisso?” “Itisso,”answeredJohnFerrier.</s>“In return for all this we asked but one condi- tion: thatwas,thatyoushouldembracethetruefaith, 1 HeberC.Kemball,inoneofhissermons,alludestohishundred and conform in every way to its usages. This you promisedtodo,andthis,ifcommonreportsaystruly, youhaveneglected.” “And how have I neglected it?” asked Ferrier, throwing out his hands in expostulation. “Have I notgiventothecommonfund? HaveInotattended attheTemple? HaveInot—?” “Where are your wives?” asked Young, looking roundhim. “Callthemin,thatImaygreetthem.” “It is true that I have not married,” Ferrier an- swered. “Butwomenwerefew,andthereweremany whohadbetterclaimsthanI.Iwasnotalonelyman: Ihadmydaughtertoattendtomywants.” “ItisofthatdaughterthatIwouldspeaktoyou,” said the leader of the Mormons. “She has grown to be the flower of Utah, and has found favour in the eyesofmanywhoarehighintheland.” JohnFerriergroanedinternally.</s>“TherearestoriesofherwhichIwouldfaindisbe- lieve—storiesthatsheissealedtosomeGentile. This mustbethegossipofidletongues. Whatisthethir- teenth rule in the code of the sainted Joseph Smith? ‘Leteverymaidenofthetrue faithmarry oneofthe elect;forifshewedaGentile,shecommitsagrievous sin.’ This being so, it is impossible that you, who profess the holy creed, should suffer your daughter toviolateit.” John Ferrier made no answer, but he played ner- vouslywithhisriding-whip.</s>“Upon this one point your whole faith shall be tested—soithasbeendecidedintheSacredCouncil of Four. The girl is young, and we would not have herwedgreyhairs,neitherwouldwedepriveherof 1 all choice. We Elders have many heifers , but our children must also be provided. Stangerson has a son,andDrebberhasason,andeitherofthemwould gladlywelcomeyourdaughtertotheirhouse. Lether choosebetweenthem. Theyareyoungandrich,and ofthetruefaith. Whatsayyoutothat?” Ferrier remained silent for some little time with hisbrowsknitted.</s>“You will give us time,” he said at last. “My daughter is very young—she is scarce of an age to marry.” “She shall have a month to choose,” said Young, risingfromhisseat. “Attheendofthattimesheshall giveheranswer.” Hewaspassingthroughthedoor,whenheturned, withflushedfaceandflashingeyes. “Itwerebetterfor wivesunderthisendearingepithet.you,JohnFerrier,”hethundered,“thatyouandshe were now lying blanched skeletons upon the Sierra Blanco, than that you should put your weak wills againsttheordersoftheHolyFour!” Withathreateninggestureofhishand,heturned from the door, and Ferrier heard his heavy step scrunchingalongtheshinglypath.</s>Hewasstillsittingwithhiselbowsuponhisknees, consideringhowheshouldbroachthemattertohis daughter when a soft hand was laid upon his, and looking up, he saw her standing beside him. One glance at her pale, frightened face showed him that shehadheardwhathadpassed.</s>“I could not help it,” she said, in answer to his look. “Hisvoicerangthroughthehouse. Oh,father, father,whatshallwedo?” “Don’t you scare yourself,” he answered, draw- ing her to him, and passing his broad, rough hand caressingly over her chestnut hair. “We’ll fix it up somehoworanother. Youdon’tfindyourfancykind o’lesseningforthischap,doyou?” A sob and a squeeze of his hand was her only answer.</s>“No; of course not. I shouldn’t care to hear you say you did. He’s a likely lad, and he’s a Christian, whichismorethanthesefolkhere,inspiteo’alltheir praying and preaching. There’s a party starting for Nevada to-morrow, and I’ll manage to send him a message letting him know the hole we are in. If I knowanythingo’thatyoungman,he’llbebackhere withaspeedthatwouldwhipelectro-telegraphs.” Lucy laughed through her tears at her father’s description.</s>CHAP light A F On the morning which followed his interview withtheMormonProphet,JohnFerrierwentintoSalt Lake City, and having found his acquaintance, who wasboundfortheNevadaMountains,heentrusted himwithhismessagetoJeffersonHope. Inithetold “When he comes, he will advise us for the best.</s>But it is for you that I am frightened, dear. One hears—one hears such dreadful stories about those whoopposetheProphet: somethingterriblealways happenstothem.” “Butwehaven’topposedhimyet,”herfatheran- swered. “Itwillbetimetolookoutforsquallswhen wedo. Wehaveaclearmonthbeforeus;attheendof that,IguesswehadbestshinoutofUtah.” “LeaveUtah!” “That’saboutthesizeofit.” “Butthefarm?” “Wewill raiseas muchaswe canin money, and lettherestgo. Totellthetruth,Lucy,itisn’tthefirst time I have thought of doing it. I don’t care about knucklingundertoanyman,asthesefolkdototheir darned prophet. I’m a free-born American, and it’s allnewtome. GuessI’mtoooldtolearn. Ifhecomes browsingaboutthisfarm,hemightchancetorunup againstachargeofbuckshottravellingintheopposite direction.” “But they won’t let us leave,” his daughter ob- jected.</s>“WaittillJeffersoncomes,andwe’llsoonmanage that. In the meantime, don’t you fret yourself, my dearie,anddon’tgetyoureyesswelledup,elsehe’ll bewalkingintomewhenheseesyou. There’snothing tobeafearedabout,andthere’snodangeratall.” JohnFerrierutteredtheseconsolingremarksina veryconfidenttone,butshecouldnothelpobserving thathepaidunusualcaretothefasteningofthedoors thatnight,andthathecarefullycleanedandloaded the rusty old shotgun which hung upon the wall of hisbedroom.</s>TER IV.</s>or ife F L theyoungmanoftheimminentdangerwhichthreat- enedthem,andhownecessaryitwasthatheshould return. Having done thus he felt easier in his mind, andreturnedhomewithalighterheart.</s>As he approached his farm, he was surprised tosee a horse hitched to each of the posts of the gate.</s>Still more surprised was he on entering to find two young men in possession of his sitting-room. One, withalongpaleface,wasleaningbackintherocking- chair, with his feet cocked up upon the stove. The other, a bull-necked youth with coarse bloated fea- tures,wasstandinginfrontofthewindowwithhis handsinhispocket,whistlingapopularhymn. Both ofthemnoddedtoFerrierasheentered,andtheone intherocking-chaircommencedtheconversation.</s>“Maybeyoudon’tknowus,”hesaid. “Thishereis thesonofElderDrebber,andI’mJosephStangerson, whotravelledwithyouinthedesertwhentheLord stretchedoutHishandandgatheredyouintothetrue fold.” “AsHewillallthenationsinHisowngoodtime,” said the other in a nasal voice; “He grindeth slowly butexceedingsmall.” JohnFerrierbowedcoldly. Hehadguessedwho hisvisitorswere.</s>“We have come,” continued Stangerson, “at the adviceofourfatherstosolicitthehandofyourdaugh- terforwhicheverofusmayseemgoodtoyouandto her. As I have but four wives and Brother Drebber herehasseven,itappearstomethatmyclaimisthe strongerone.” “Nay, nay, Brother Stangerson,” cried the other; “the question is not how many wives we have, but how many we can keep. My father has now given overhismillstome,andIamthericherman.” “But my prospects are better,” said the other, warmly. “WhentheLordremovesmyfather,Ishall havehistanningyardandhisleatherfactory. ThenI amyourelder,andamhigherintheChurch.” “It will be for the maiden to decide,” rejoined youngDrebber,smirkingathisownreflectioninthe glass. “Wewillleaveitalltoherdecision.” Duringthisdialogue,JohnFerrierhadstoodfum- ing in the doorway, hardly able to keep his riding- whipfromthebacksofhistwovisitors.</s>“Lookhere,”hesaidatlast,stridinguptothem, “whenmydaughtersummonsyou,youcancome,but untilthenIdon’twanttoseeyourfacesagain.” ThetwoyoungMormonsstaredathiminamaze- ment. Intheireyesthiscompetitionbetweenthemfor the maiden’s hand was the highest of honours both toherandherfather.</s>“Therearetwowaysoutoftheroom,”criedFer- rier; “there is the door, and there is the window.</s>Whichdoyoucaretouse?” His brown face looked so savage, and his gaunt handssothreatening,thathisvisitorssprangtotheir feet and beat a hurried retreat. The old farmer fol- lowedthemtothedoor.</s>“Letmeknowwhenyouhavesettledwhichitis tobe,”hesaid,sardonically.</s>“Youshallsmartforthis!”Stangersoncried,white with rage. “You have defied the Prophet and the Council of Four. You shall rue it to the end of your days.” “ThehandoftheLordshallbeheavyuponyou,” criedyoungDrebber;“Hewillariseandsmiteyou!” “ThenI’llstartthesmiting,”exclaimedFerrierfu- riously,andwouldhaverushedupstairsforhisgun had not Lucy seized him by the arm and restrained him. Before he could escape from her, the clatter of horses’hoofs toldhim that theywere beyond his reach.</s>“Theyoungcantingrascals!”heexclaimed,wiping theperspirationfromhisforehead;“Iwouldsooner seeyouinyourgrave,mygirl,thanthewifeofeither ofthem.” “And so should I, father,” she answered, with spirit;“butJeffersonwillsoonbehere.” “Yes. It will not be long before he comes. The soonerthebetter,forwedonotknowwhattheirnext movemaybe.” Itwas,indeed,hightimethatsomeonecapableof givingadviceandhelpshouldcometotheaidofthe sturdy old farmer and his adopted daughter. In the wholehistoryofthesettlementtherehadneverbeen suchacaseofrankdisobediencetotheauthorityof theElders. Ifminorerrorswerepunishedsosternly, whatwouldbethefateofthisarchrebel. Ferrierknew thathiswealthandpositionwouldbeofnoavailto him. Othersaswellknownandasrichashimselfhad beenspiritedawaybeforenow,andtheirgoodsgiven overtotheChurch. Hewasabraveman,buthetrem- bledatthevague,shadowyterrorswhichhungover him. Any known danger he could face with a firm lip,butthissuspensewasunnerving. Heconcealed hisfearsfromhisdaughter,however,andaffectedto makelightofthewholematter,thoughshe,withthe keeneyeoflove,sawplainlythathewasillatease.</s>Heexpectedthathewouldreceivesomemessage or remonstrance from Young as to his conduct, and hewasnotmistaken,thoughitcameinanunlooked- for manner. Upon rising next morning he found, to his surprise, a small square of paper pinned on to thecoverletofhisbedjustoverhischest. Onitwas printed,inboldstragglingletters:—“Twenty-ninedaysaregivenyouforamendment, andthen—” Thedashwasmorefear-inspiringthananythreat could have been. How this warning came into his room puzzled John Ferrier sorely, for his servants sleptinanouthouse,andthedoorsandwindowshad allbeensecured. Hecrumpledthepaperupandsaid nothingtohisdaughter,buttheincidentstruckachill intohisheart. Thetwenty-ninedayswereevidently thebalanceofthemonthwhichYounghadpromised.</s>What strength or courage could avail against an en- emyarmedwithsuchmysteriouspowers? Thehand whichfastenedthatpinmighthavestruckhimtothe heart,andhecouldneverhaveknownwhohadslain him.</s>Stillmoreshakenwashenextmorning. Theyhad satdowntotheirbreakfastwhenLucywithacryof surprise pointed upwards. In the centre of the ceil- ingwasscrawled,withaburnedstickapparently,the number28. Tohisdaughteritwasunintelligible,and he did not enlighten her. That night he sat up with his gun and kept watch and ward. He saw and he heardnothing,andyetinthemorningagreat27had beenpaintedupontheoutsideofhisdoor.</s>Thus day followed day; and as sure as morning camehefoundthathisunseenenemieshadkepttheir register, and had marked up in some conspicuous positionhowmanydayswerestilllefttohimoutof the month of grace. Sometimes the fatal numbers appeareduponthewalls,sometimesuponthefloors, occasionallytheywereonsmallplacardsstuckupon thegardengateortherailings. Withallhisvigilance John Ferrier could not discover whence these daily warningsproceeded. Ahorrorwhichwasalmostsu- perstitious came upon him at the sight of them. He became haggard and restless, and his eyes had the troubled look of some hunted creature. He had but onehopeinlifenow, andthatwasforthearrivalof theyounghunterfromNevada.</s>Twentyhadchangedtofifteenandfifteentoten, but there was no news of the absentee. One by one thenumbersdwindleddown,andstilltherecameno signofhim. Wheneverahorsemanclattereddownthe road,oradrivershoutedathisteam,theoldfarmer hurriedtothegatethinkingthathelphadarrivedat last. At last, whenhe sawfivegive way tofour and thatagaintothree,helostheart,andabandonedall hopeofescape. Single-handed,andwithhislimited knowledgeofthemountainswhichsurroundedthe settlement,heknewthathewaspowerless. Themore- frequentedroadswerestrictlywatchedandguarded, and none could pass along them without an order from the Council. Turn which way he would, there appearedtobenoavoidingtheblowwhichhungover him. Yettheoldmanneverwaveredinhisresolution topartwithlifeitselfbeforeheconsentedtowhathe regardedashisdaughter’sdishonour.</s>He was sitting alone one evening pondering deeply over his troubles, and searching vainly for somewayoutofthem. Thatmorninghadshownthe figure2uponthewallofhishouse,andthenextday would be the last of the allotted time. What was to happenthen? Allmannerofvagueandterriblefan- ciesfilledhisimagination. Andhisdaughter—what wastobecomeofherafterhewasgone? Wasthereno escapefromtheinvisiblenetworkwhichwasdrawn allroundthem. Hesankhisheaduponthetableand sobbedatthethoughtofhisownimpotence.</s>What was that? In the silence he heard a gentle scratchingsound—low,butverydistinctinthequiet ofthenight. Itcamefromthedoorofthehouse. Fer- rier crept into the hall and listened intently. There wasapauseforafewmoments,andthenthelowin- sidioussoundwasrepeated. Someonewasevidently tapping very gently upon one of the panels of the door. Wasitsomemidnightassassinwhohadcome to carry out the murderous orders of the secret tri- bunal? Or was it some agent who was marking up that the last day of grace had arrived. John Ferrier felt that instant death would be better than the sus- pense which shook his nerves and chilled his heart.</s>Springing forward he drew the bolt and threw the dooropen.</s>Outside all was calm and quiet. The night was fine,andthestarsweretwinklingbrightlyoverhead.</s>The little front garden lay before the farmer’s eyes boundedbythefenceandgate,butneithertherenor ontheroadwasanyhumanbeingtobeseen. Witha sighofrelief,Ferrierlookedtorightandtoleft,until happening to glance straight down at his own feet hesawtohisastonishmentamanlyingflatuponhis faceupontheground,witharmsandlegsallasprawl.</s>Sounnervedwasheatthesightthatheleanedup against the wall with his hand to his throat to stifle hisinclinationtocallout. Hisfirstthoughtwasthat theprostratefigurewasthatofsomewoundedordy- ingman,butashewatchedithesawitwrithealong the ground and into the hall with the rapidity and noiselessnessofaserpent. Oncewithinthehousethe mansprangtohisfeet,closedthedoor,andrevealed totheastonishedfarmerthefiercefaceandresolute expressionofJeffersonHope.</s>“Good God!” gasped John Ferrier. “How you scaredme! Whatevermadeyoucomeinlikethat.”“Givemefood,”theothersaid,hoarsely. “Ihave hadnotimeforbiteorsupforeight-and-fortyhours.” Heflunghimselfuponthecoldmeatandbreadwhich werestilllyinguponthetablefromhishost’ssupper, and devoured it voraciously. “Does Lucy bear up well?”heasked,whenhehadsatisfiedhishunger.</s>“Yes. She does not know the danger,” her father answered.</s>“Thatiswell. Thehouseiswatchedoneveryside.</s>ThatiswhyIcrawledmywayuptoit. Theymaybe darnedsharp,butthey’renotquitesharpenoughto catchaWashoehunter.” JohnFerrierfeltadifferentmannowthathereal- izedthathehadadevotedally. Heseizedtheyoung man’sleatheryhandandwrungitcordially. “You’re amantobeproudof,”hesaid. “Therearenotmany who would come to share our danger and our trou- bles.” “You’ve hit it there, pard,” the young hunter an- swered. “I have a respect for you, but if you were aloneinthisbusinessI’dthinktwicebeforeIputmy headintosuchahornet’snest. It’sLucythatbrings mehere,andbeforeharmcomesonherIguessthere willbeonelesso’theHopefamilyinUtah.” “Whatarewetodo?” “To-morrow is your last day, and unless you act to-night you are lost. I have a mule and two horses waitingintheEagleRavine. Howmuchmoneyhave you?” “Twothousanddollarsingold,andfiveinnotes.” “That will do. I have as much more to add to it.</s>WemustpushforCarsonCitythroughthemountains.</s>YouhadbestwakeLucy. Itisaswellthattheservants donotsleepinthehouse.” WhileFerrierwasabsent,preparinghisdaughter fortheapproachingjourney,JeffersonHopepacked alltheeatablesthathecouldfindintoasmallparcel, and filled a stoneware jar with water, for he knew byexperiencethatthemountainwellswerefewand far between. He had hardly completed his arrange- mentsbeforethefarmerreturnedwithhisdaughter all dressed and ready for a start. The greeting be- tween the lovers was warm, but brief, for minutes wereprecious,andtherewasmuchtobedone.</s>“Wemustmakeourstartatonce,”saidJefferson Hope,speakinginalowbutresolutevoice,likeone whorealizesthegreatnessoftheperil,buthassteeled hishearttomeetit. “Thefrontandbackentrancesare watched,butwithcautionwemaygetawaythrough the side window and across the fields. Once on the road we are only two miles from the Ravine where the horses are waiting. By daybreak we should be half-waythroughthemountains.” “Whatifwearestopped,”askedFerrier.</s>Hopeslappedtherevolverbuttwhichprotruded fromthefrontofhistunic. “Iftheyaretoomanyfor us we shall take two or three of them with us,” he saidwithasinistersmile.</s>The lights inside the house had all been extin- guished, and from the darkened window Ferrier peeredoverthefieldswhichhadbeenhisown,and which he was now about to abandon for ever. He had long nerved himself to the sacrifice, however, andthethoughtofthehonourandhappinessofhis daughter outweighed any regret at his ruined for- tunes. Alllookedsopeacefulandhappy,therustling treesandthebroadsilentstretchofgrain-land,thatit wasdifficulttorealizethatthespiritofmurderlurked throughitall. Yetthewhitefaceandsetexpressionof theyounghuntershowedthatinhisapproachtothe house he had seen enough to satisfy him upon that head.</s>Ferrier carried the bag of gold and notes, Jeffer- sonHopehadthescantyprovisionsandwater,while Lucy had a small bundle containing a few of her morevaluedpossessions. Openingthewindowvery slowlyandcarefully,theywaiteduntiladarkcloud had somewhat obscured the night, and then one by onepassedthroughintothelittlegarden. Withbated breath and crouching figures they stumbled across it, and gained the shelter of the hedge, which they skirted until they came to the gap which opened intothecornfields. Theyhadjustreachedthispoint whentheyoungmanseizedhistwocompanionsand draggedthemdownintotheshadow,wheretheylay silentandtrembling.</s>It was as well that his prairie training had given JeffersonHopetheearsofalynx. Heandhisfriends had hardly crouched down before the melancholy hooting of a mountain owl was heard within a few yardsofthem,whichwasimmediatelyansweredby another hoot at a small distance. At the same mo- mentavagueshadowyfigureemergedfromthegap for which they had been making, and uttered the plaintive signal cry again, on which a second man appearedoutoftheobscurity.</s>“To-morrow at midnight,” said the first who ap- pearedtobeinauthority. “WhentheWhip-poor-Will callsthreetimes.” “Itiswell,”returnedtheother. “ShallItellBrother Drebber?”“Pass it on to him, and from him to the others.</s>Ninetoseven!” “Seven to five!” repeated the other, and the two figuresflittedawayindifferentdirections. Theircon- cludingwordshadevidentlybeensomeformofsign andcountersign. Theinstantthattheirfootstepshad diedawayinthedistance,JeffersonHopesprangto his feet, and helping his companions through the gap, led the way across the fields at the top of his speed,supportingandhalf-carryingthegirlwhenher strengthappearedtofailher.</s>“Hurry on! hurry on!” he gasped from time to time. “We are through the line of sentinels. Every- thingdependsonspeed. Hurryon!” Onceonthehighroadtheymaderapidprogress.</s>Onlyoncedidtheymeetanyone,andthentheyman- aged to slip into a field, and so avoid recognition.</s>Beforereachingthetownthehunterbranchedaway intoaruggedandnarrowfootpathwhichledtothe mountains. Two dark jagged peaks loomed above themthroughthedarkness,andthedefilewhichled between them was the Eagle Can˜on in which the horseswereawaitingthem. WithunerringinstinctJef- fersonHopepickedhiswayamongthegreatboulders andalongthebedofadried-upwatercourse,untilhe cametotheretiredcorner,screenedwithrocks,where thefaithfulanimalshadbeenpicketed. Thegirlwas placed upon the mule, and old Ferrier upon one of thehorses,withhismoney-bag,whileJeffersonHope led the other along the precipitous and dangerous path.</s>It was a bewildering route for anyone who was notaccustomedtofaceNatureinherwildestmoods.</s>Ontheonesideagreatcragtoweredupathousand feet or more, black, stern, and menacing, with long basalticcolumnsuponitsruggedsurfaceliketheribs ofsomepetrifiedmonster. Ontheotherhandawild chaos of boulders and debris made all advance im- possible. Betweenthetworantheirregulartrack,so narrow in places that they had to travel in Indian file, and so rough that only practised riders could have traversed it at all. Yet in spite of all dangers anddifficulties,theheartsofthefugitiveswerelight within them, for every step increased the distance betweenthemandtheterribledespotismfromwhich theywereflying.</s>They soon had a proof, however, that they were still within the jurisdiction of the Saints. They had reached the very wildest and most desolate portion of the pass when the girl gave a startled cry, and pointed upwards. On a rock which overlooked the track, showing out dark and plain against the sky, therestoodasolitarysentinel. Hesawthemassoon astheyperceivedhim,andhismilitarychallengeof “Whogoesthere?”rangthroughthesilentravine.</s>“TravellersforNevada,”saidJeffersonHope,with hishandupontheriflewhichhungbyhissaddle.</s>They could see the lonely watcher fingering his gun, and peering down at them as if dissatisfied at theirreply.</s>“Bywhosepermission?”heasked.</s>“TheHolyFour,”answeredFerrier. HisMormon experienceshadtaughthimthatthatwasthehighest authoritytowhichhecouldrefer.</s>“Ninefromseven,”criedthesentinel.</s>“Seven from five,” returned Jefferson Hope promptly,rememberingthecountersignwhichhehad heardinthegarden.</s>“Pass,andtheLordgowithyou,”saidthevoice fromabove. Beyondhispostthepathbroadenedout, and the horses were able to break into a trot. Look- ingback,theycouldseethesolitarywatcherleaning upon his gun, and knew that they had passed the outlyingpostofthechosenpeople,andthatfreedom laybeforethem.CHAP he veng T A All night their course lay through intricate de- filesandoverirregularandrock-strewnpaths. More than once they lost their way, but Hope’s intimate knowledgeofthemountainsenabledthemtoregain thetrackoncemore. Whenmorningbroke,asceneof marvellousthoughsavagebeautylaybeforethem. In everydirectionthegreatsnow-cappedpeakshemmed them in, peeping over each other’s shoulders to the farhorizon. Sosteepweretherockybanksoneither side of them, that the larch and the pine seemed to be suspended over their heads, and to need only a gustofwindtocomehurtlingdownuponthem. Nor wasthefearentirelyanillusion,forthebarrenvalley was thickly strewn with trees and boulders which hadfalleninasimilarmanner. Evenastheypassed, a great rock came thundering down with a hoarse rattlewhichwoketheechoesinthesilentgorges,and startledthewearyhorsesintoagallop.</s>Asthesunroseslowlyabovetheeasternhorizon, the caps of the great mountains lit up one after the other,likelampsatafestival,untiltheywereallruddy andglowing. Themagnificentspectaclecheeredthe heartsofthethreefugitivesandgavethemfreshen- ergy. At a wild torrent which swept out of a ravine theycalledahaltandwateredtheirhorses,whilethey partook of a hasty breakfast. Lucy and her father would fain have rested longer, but Jefferson Hope wasinexorable. “Theywillbeuponourtrackbythis time,”hesaid. “Everythingdependsuponourspeed.</s>OncesafeinCarsonwemayrestfortheremainderof ourlives.” During the whole of that day they struggled on through the defiles, and by evening they calculated that they were more than thirty miles from their enemies. At night-time they chose the base of a beetlingcrag,wheretherocksofferedsomeprotection fromthechillwind,andtherehuddledtogetherfor warmth,theyenjoyedafewhours’sleep. Beforeday- break,however,theywereupandontheirwayonce more. They had seen no signs of any pursuers, and Jefferson Hope began to think that they were fairly out of the reach of the terrible organization whose enmitytheyhadincurred. Helittleknewhowfarthat iron grasp could reach, or how soon it was to close uponthemandcrushthem.</s>Aboutthemiddleoftheseconddayoftheirflight theirscantystoreofprovisionsbegantorunout. This gave the hunter little uneasiness, however, for there was game to be had among the mountains, and he PTER V.</s>ing ngels A hadfrequentlybeforehadtodependuponhisriflefor theneedsoflife. Choosingashelterednook,hepiled togetherafewdriedbranchesandmadeablazingfire, atwhichhiscompanionsmightwarmthemselves,for they were now nearly five thousand feet above the sea level, and the air was bitter and keen. Having tethered the horses, and bade Lucy adieu, he threw his gun over his shoulder, and set out in search of whatever chance might throw in his way. Looking backhesawtheoldmanandtheyounggirlcrouching over the blazing fire, while the three animals stood motionlessintheback-ground. Thentheintervening rockshidthemfromhisview.</s>He walked for a couple of miles through one ravine after another without success, though from themarksuponthebarkofthetrees,andotherindi- cations,hejudgedthattherewerenumerousbearsin thevicinity. Atlast,aftertwoorthreehours’fruitless search, he was thinking of turning back in despair, whencastinghiseyesupwardshesawasightwhich sent a thrill of pleasure through his heart. On the edgeofajuttingpinnacle,threeorfourhundredfeet above him, there stood a creature somewhat resem- blingasheepinappearance,butarmedwithapairof gigantichorns. Thebig-horn—forsoitiscalled—was acting, probably, as a guardian over a flock which were invisible to the hunter; but fortunately it was heading in the opposite direction, and had not per- ceived him. Lying on his face, he rested his rifle uponarock,andtookalongandsteadyaimbefore drawing the trigger. The animal sprang into the air, totteredforamomentupontheedgeoftheprecipice, andthencamecrashingdownintothevalleybeneath.</s>Thecreaturewastoounwieldytolift,sothehunter contentedhimselfwithcuttingawayonehaunchand partoftheflank. Withthistrophyoverhisshoulder, hehastenedtoretracehissteps,fortheeveningwas alreadydrawingin. Hehadhardlystarted,however, beforeherealizedthedifficultywhichfacedhim. In his eagerness he had wandered far past the ravines whichwereknowntohim,anditwasnoeasymatter topickoutthepathwhichhehadtaken. Thevalley inwhichhefoundhimselfdividedandsub-divided intomanygorges,whichweresolikeeachotherthat it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.</s>Hefollowedoneforamileormoreuntilhecameto a mountain torrent which he was sure that he had neverseenbefore. Convincedthathehadtakenthe wrongturn,hetriedanother,butwiththesameresult.Nightwascomingonrapidly,anditwasalmostdark beforeheatlastfoundhimselfinadefilewhichwas familiar to him. Even then it was no easy matter to keeptotherighttrack,forthemoonhadnotyetrisen, andthehighcliffsoneithersidemadetheobscurity moreprofound. Weigheddownwithhisburden,and wearyfromhisexertions,hestumbledalong,keeping uphisheartbythereflectionthateverystepbrought him nearer to Lucy, and that he carried with him enough to ensure them food for the remainder of theirjourney.</s>He had now come to the mouth of the very de- fileinwhichhehadleftthem. Eveninthedarkness he could recognize the outline of the cliffs which boundedit. Theymust,hereflected,beawaitinghim anxiously, for he had been absent nearly five hours.</s>In the gladness of his heart he put his hands to his mouth and made the glen re-echo to a loud halloo as a signal that he was coming. He paused and lis- tened for an answer. None came save his own cry, whichclatteredupthedrearysilentravines,andwas bornebacktohisearsincountlessrepetitions. Again he shouted, even louder than before, and again no whisper came back from the friends whom he had leftsuchashorttimeago. Avague,namelessdread came over him, and he hurried onwards frantically, droppingthepreciousfoodinhisagitation.</s>Whenheturnedthecorner,hecamefullinsight of the spot where the fire had been lit. There was still a glowing pile of wood ashes there, but it had evidently not been tended since his departure. The same dead silence still reigned all round. With his fearsallchangedtoconvictions,hehurriedon. There was no living creature near the remains of the fire: animals, man, maiden, all were gone. It was only tooclearthatsomesuddenandterribledisasterhad occurred during his absence—a disaster which had embracedthemall,andyethadleftnotracesbehind it.</s>Bewildered and stunned by this blow, Jefferson Hopefelthisheadspinround,andhadtoleanupon his rifle to save himself from falling. He was essen- tially a man of action, however, and speedily recov- ered from his temporary impotence. Seizing a half- consumedpieceofwoodfromthesmoulderingfire, heblewitintoaflame,andproceededwithitshelpto examinethelittlecamp. Thegroundwasallstamped downbythefeetofhorses,showingthatalargeparty ofmountedmenhadovertakenthefugitives,andthe direction of their tracks proved that they had after- wardsturnedbacktoSaltLakeCity. Hadtheycarried back both of his companions with them? Jefferson Hopehadalmostpersuadedhimselfthattheymust havedoneso,whenhiseyefelluponanobjectwhich madeeverynerveofhisbodytinglewithinhim. Alit- tlewayononesideofthecampwasalow-lyingheap of reddish soil, which had assuredly not been there before. Therewasnomistakingitforanythingbuta newly-dug grave. As the young hunter approached it, he perceived that a stick had been planted on it, withasheetofpaperstuckinthecleftforkofit. The inscriptionuponthepaperwasbrief,buttothepoint: JOHNFERRIER, FormerlyofSaltLakeCity, DiedAugust4th,1860.</s>Thesturdyoldman,whomhehadleftsoshortatime before, was gone, then, and this was all his epitaph.</s>JeffersonHopelookedwildlyroundtoseeiftherewas a second grave, but there was no sign of one. Lucy hadbeencarriedbackbytheirterriblepursuerstoful- filheroriginaldestiny,bybecomingoneoftheharem oftheElder’sson. Astheyoungfellowrealizedthe certainty of her fate, and his own powerlessness to preventit,hewishedthathe,too,waslyingwiththe oldfarmerinhislastsilentresting-place.</s>Again, however, his active spirit shook off the lethargy which springs from despair. If there was nothingelselefttohim,hecouldatleastdevotehis life to revenge. With indomitable patience and per- severance,JeffersonHopepossessedalsoapowerof sustainedvindictiveness,whichhemayhavelearned fromtheIndiansamongstwhomhehadlived. Ashe stood by the desolate fire, he felt that the only one thing which could assuage his grief would be thor- ough and complete retribution, brought by his own handuponhisenemies. Hisstrongwillanduntiring energyshould,hedetermined,bedevotedtothatone end. Withagrim,whiteface,heretracedhisstepsto where he had dropped the food, and having stirred upthesmoulderingfire,hecookedenoughtolasthim forafewdays. Thishemadeupintoabundle,and, tiredashewas,hesethimselftowalkbackthrough themountainsuponthetrackoftheavengingangels.</s>Forfivedayshetoiledfootsoreandwearythrough thedefileswhichhehadalreadytraversedonhorse- back. At night he flung himself down among the rocks,andsnatchedafewhoursofsleep;butbefore daybreakhewasalwayswellonhisway. Onthesixth day, he reached the Eagle Can˜on, from which they hadcommencedtheirill-fatedflight. Thencehecould look down upon the home of the saints. Worn and exhausted, he leaned upon his rifle and shook his gaunthandfiercelyatthesilentwidespreadcitybe- neathhim. Ashelookedatit,heobservedthattherewereflagsinsomeoftheprincipalstreets,andother signsoffestivity. Hewasstillspeculatingastowhat thismightmeanwhenheheardtheclatterofhorse’s hoofs,andsawamountedmanridingtowardshim.</s>Asheapproached,herecognizedhimasaMormon named Cowper, to whom he had rendered services at different times. He therefore accosted him when hegotuptohim,withtheobjectoffindingoutwhat LucyFerrier’sfatehadbeen.</s>“I am Jefferson Hope,” he said. “You remember me.” TheMormonlookedathimwithundisguisedas- tonishment—indeed, it was difficult to recognize in thistattered,unkemptwanderer,withghastlywhite face and fierce, wild eyes, the spruce young hunter of former days. Having, however, at last, satisfied himselfastohisidentity,theman’ssurprisechanged toconsternation.</s>“You are mad to come here,” he cried. “It is as muchasmyownlifeisworthtobeseentalkingwith you. There is a warrant against you from the Holy FourforassistingtheFerriersaway.” “I don’t fear them, or their warrant,” Hope said, earnestly. “Youmustknowsomethingofthismatter, Cowper. Iconjureyoubyeverythingyouholddearto answerafewquestions. Wehavealwaysbeenfriends.</s>ForGod’ssake,don’trefusetoanswerme.” “What is it?” the Mormon asked uneasily. “Be quick. Theveryrockshaveearsandthetreeseyes.” “WhathasbecomeofLucyFerrier?” “She was married yesterday to young Drebber.</s>Holdup,man,holdup,youhavenolifeleftinyou.” “Don’tmindme,”saidHopefaintly. Hewaswhite to the very lips, and had sunk down on the stone against which he had been leaning. “Married, you say?” “Married yesterday—that’s what those flags are forontheEndowmentHouse. Therewassomewords betweenyoungDrebberandyoungStangersonasto whichwastohaveher. They’dbothbeenintheparty thatfollowedthem,andStangersonhadshotherfa- ther, which seemed to give him the best claim; but whentheyargueditoutincouncil, Drebber’sparty wasthestronger,sotheProphetgaveherovertohim.</s>No one won’t have her very long though, for I saw deathinherfaceyesterday. Sheismorelikeaghost thanawoman. Areyouoff,then?” “Yes,Iamoff,”saidJeffersonHope,whohadrisen fromhisseat. Hisfacemighthavebeenchiselledout ofmarble,sohardandsetwasitsexpression,while itseyesglowedwithabalefullight.</s>“Whereareyougoing?” “Never mind,” he answered; and, slinging his weaponoverhisshoulder,strodeoffdownthegorge and so away into the heart of the mountains to the haunts of the wild beasts. Amongst them all there wasnonesofierceandsodangerousashimself.</s>ThepredictionoftheMormonwasonlytoowell fulfilled. Whetheritwastheterribledeathofherfa- therortheeffectsofthehatefulmarriageintowhich she had been forced, poor Lucy never held up her headagain,butpinedawayanddiedwithinamonth.</s>Her sottish husband, who had married her princi- pallyforthesakeofJohnFerrier’sproperty,didnot affectanygreatgriefathisbereavement;buthisother wives mourned over her, and sat up with her the night before the burial, as is the Mormon custom.</s>Theyweregroupedroundthebierintheearlyhours ofthemorning,when,totheirinexpressiblefearand astonishment,thedoorwasflungopen,andasavage- looking, weather-beaten man in tattered garments strode into the room. Without a glance or a word to the cowering women, he walked up to the white silentfigurewhichhadoncecontainedthepuresoul ofLucyFerrier. Stoopingoverher,hepressedhislips reverentlytohercoldforehead,andthen,snatching upherhand,hetookthewedding-ringfromherfin- ger. “She shall not be buried in that,” he cried with a fierce snarl, and before an alarm could be raised sprangdownthestairsandwasgone. Sostrangeand sobriefwastheepisode,thatthewatchersmighthave found it hard to believe it themselves or persuade other people of it, had it not been for the undeni- ablefactthatthecircletofgoldwhichmarkedheras havingbeenabridehaddisappeared.</s>ForsomemonthsJeffersonHopelingeredamong themountains,leadingastrangewildlife,andnurs- inginhisheartthefiercedesireforvengeancewhich possessed him. Tales were told in the City of the weirdfigurewhichwasseenprowlingaboutthesub- urbs,andwhichhauntedthelonelymountaingorges.</s>OnceabulletwhistledthroughStangerson’swindow andflatteneditselfuponthewallwithinafootofhim.</s>Onanotheroccasion,asDrebberpassedunderacliff a great boulder crashed down on him, and he only escaped a terrible death by throwing himself upon his face. The two young Mormons were not long in discovering the reason of these attempts upon their lives, and led repeated expeditions into the moun- tainsinthehopeofcapturingorkillingtheirenemy, but always without success. Then they adopted theprecautionofnevergoingoutaloneorafternightfall, and of having their houses guarded. After a time they were able to relax these measures, for nothing waseitherheardorseenoftheiropponent,andthey hopedthattimehadcooledhisvindictiveness.</s>Farfromdoingso,ithad,ifanything,augmented it. The hunter’s mind was of a hard, unyielding na- ture,andthepredominantideaofrevengehadtaken suchcompletepossessionofitthattherewasnoroom for any other emotion. He was, however, above all thingspractical. Hesoonrealizedthatevenhisiron constitutioncouldnotstandtheincessantstrainwhich hewasputtinguponit. Exposureandwantofwhole- some food were wearing him out. If he died like a dog among the mountains, what was to become of hisrevengethen? Andyetsuchadeathwassureto overtakehimifhepersisted. Hefeltthatthatwasto playhisenemy’sgame,sohereluctantlyreturnedto theoldNevadamines,theretorecruithishealthand to amass money enough to allow him to pursue his objectwithoutprivation.</s>Hisintentionhadbeentobeabsentayearatthe most,butacombinationofunforeseencircumstances preventedhisleavingtheminesfornearlyfive. Atthe endofthattime,however,hismemoryofhiswrongs andhiscravingforrevengewerequiteaskeenason thatmemorablenightwhenhehadstoodbyJohnFer- rier’sgrave. Disguised,andunderanassumedname, hereturnedtoSaltLakeCity,carelesswhatbecameof hisownlife,aslongasheobtainedwhatheknewto bejustice. Therehefoundeviltidingsawaitinghim.</s>TherehadbeenaschismamongtheChosenPeoplea fewmonthsbefore,someoftheyoungermembersof the Church having rebelled against the authority of theElders,andtheresulthadbeenthesecessionofa certainnumberofthemalcontents,whohadleftUtah andbecomeGentiles. AmongthesehadbeenDrebber andStangerson;andnooneknewwhithertheyhad gone. RumourreportedthatDrebberhadmanagedto convertalargepartofhispropertyintomoney,and thathehaddepartedawealthyman,whilehiscom- panion, Stangerson, was comparatively poor. There wasnoclueatall,however,astotheirwhereabouts.</s>Many a man, however vindictive, would have abandonedallthoughtofrevengeinthefaceofsuch a difficulty, but Jefferson Hope never faltered for a moment. With the small competence he possessed, eked out by such employment as he could pick up, he travelled from town to town through the United Statesinquestofhisenemies. Yearpassedintoyear, hisblackhairturnedgrizzled,butstillhewandered on,ahumanbloodhound,withhismindwhollyset upontheoneobjectuponwhichhehaddevotedhis life. At last his perseverance was rewarded. It was butaglanceofafaceinawindow,butthatoneglance told him that Cleveland in Ohio possessed the men whomhewasinpursuitof. Hereturnedtohismiser- ablelodgingswithhisplanofvengeanceallarranged.</s>It chanced, however, that Drebber, looking from his window,hadrecognizedthevagrantinthestreet,and had read murder in his eyes. He hurried before a justiceofthepeace,accompaniedbyStangerson,who had become his private secretary, and represented to him that they were in danger of their lives from thejealousyandhatredofanoldrival. Thatevening JeffersonHopewastakenintocustody,andnotbeing able to find sureties, was detained for some weeks.</s>Whenatlasthewasliberated,itwasonlytofindthat Drebber’s house was deserted, and that he and his secretaryhaddepartedforEurope.</s>Againtheavengerhadbeenfoiled,andagainhis concentrated hatred urged him to continue the pur- suit. Funds were wanting, however, and for some time he had to return to work, saving every dollar forhisapproachingjourney. Atlast,havingcollected enough to keep life in him, he departed for Europe, andtrackedhisenemiesfromcitytocity,workinghis wayinanymenialcapacity,butneverovertakingthe fugitives. When he reached St. Petersburg they had departedforParis;andwhenhefollowedthemthere helearnedthattheyhadjustsetoffforCopenhagen.</s>At the Danish capital he was again a few days late, for they had journeyed on to London, where he at lastsucceededinrunningthemtoearth. Astowhat occurred there, we cannot do better than quote the old hunter’s own account, as duly recorded in Dr.</s>Watson’sJournal,towhichwearealreadyundersuch obligations.CHAP ontinuation f he emin A C O T R Our prisoner’s furiousresistance did notap- parently indicate any ferocity in his disposition to- wardsourselves,foronfindinghimselfpowerless,he smiledinanaffablemanner,andexpressedhishopes thathehadnothurtanyofusinthescuffle. “Iguess you’regoingtotakemetothepolice-station,”here- markedtoSherlockHolmes. “Mycab’satthedoor. If you’ll loose my legs I’ll walk down to it. I’m not so lighttoliftasIusedtobe.” Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if theythoughtthispropositionratheraboldone;but Holmes at once took the prisoner at his word, and loosened the towel which we had bound round his ankles. He rose and stretched his legs, as though to assure himself that they were free once more. I remember that I thought to myself, as I eyed him, thatIhadseldomseenamorepowerfullybuiltman; and his dark sunburned face bore an expression of determinationandenergywhichwasasformidable ashispersonalstrength.</s>“Ifthere’savacantplaceforachiefofthepolice,I reckonyouarethemanforit,”hesaid,gazingwith undisguised admiration at my fellow-lodger. “The wayyoukeptonmytrailwasacaution.” “You had better come with me,” said Holmes to thetwodetectives.</s>“Icandriveyou,”saidLestrade.</s>“Good! and Gregson can come inside with me.</s>Youtoo,Doctor,youhavetakenaninterestinthecase andmayaswellsticktous.” Iassentedgladly,andwealldescendedtogether.</s>Ourprisonermadenoattemptatescape,butstepped calmly into the cab which had been his, and we fol- lowedhim. Lestrademountedthebox,whippedup thehorse,andbroughtusinaveryshorttimetoour destination. We were ushered into a small chamber whereapoliceInspectornoteddownourprisoner’s nameandthenamesofthemenwithwhosemurder hehadbeencharged. Theofficialwasawhite-faced unemotionalman,whowentthroughhisdutiesina dullmechanicalway. “Theprisonerwillbeputbefore the magistrates in the course of the week,” he said; “inthemeantime,Mr.JeffersonHope,haveyouany- thingthatyouwishtosay? Imustwarnyouthatyour wordswillbetakendown,andmaybeusedagainst you.” “I’ve got a good deal to say,” our prisoner said slowly. “Iwanttotellyougentlemenallaboutit.” TER VI.</s>iscences f ohn atson O J W , M.D.</s>“Hadn’t you better reserve that for your trial?” askedtheInspector.</s>“Imayneverbetried,”heanswered. “Youneedn’t look startled. It isn’t suicide I am thinking of. Are youaDoctor?”Heturnedhisfiercedarkeyesupon measheaskedthislastquestion.</s>“Yes;Iam,”Ianswered.</s>“Thenputyourhandhere,”hesaid,withasmile, motioningwithhismanacledwriststowardshischest.</s>I did so; and became at once conscious of an ex- traordinarythrobbingandcommotionwhichwasgo- ingoninside. Thewallsofhischestseemedtothrill andquiverasafrailbuildingwoulddoinsidewhen somepowerfulenginewasatwork. Inthesilenceof theroomIcouldhearadullhummingandbuzzing noisewhichproceededfromthesamesource.</s>“Why,”Icried,“youhaveanaorticaneurism!” “That’swhattheycallit,”hesaid,placidly. “Iwent toaDoctorlastweekaboutit,andhetoldmethatitis boundtoburstbeforemanydayspassed. Ithasbeen getting worse for years. I got it from over-exposure and under-feeding among the Salt Lake Mountains.</s>I’ve done my work now, and I don’t care how soon I go, but I should like to leave some account of the businessbehindme. Idon’twanttoberemembered asacommoncut-throat.” The Inspector and the two detectives had a hur- rieddiscussionastotheadvisabilityofallowinghim totellhisstory.</s>“Doyouconsider,Doctor,thatthereisimmediate danger?”theformerasked.</s>“Mostcertainlythereis,”Ianswered.</s>“Inthatcaseitisclearlyourduty,intheinterests of justice, to take his statement,” said the Inspector.</s>“Youareatliberty,sir,togiveyouraccount,whichI againwarnyouwillbetakendown.” “I’llsitdown,withyourleave,”theprisonersaid, suiting the action to the word. “This aneurism of mine makes me easily tired, and the tussle we had halfanhouragohasnotmendedmatters. I’monthe brink of the grave, and I am not likely to lie to you.</s>EverywordIsayistheabsolutetruth,andhowyou useitisamatterofnoconsequencetome.” Withthesewords,JeffersonHopeleanedbackin his chair and began the following remarkable state- ment. He spoke in a calm and methodical manner,as though the events which he narrated were com- monplaceenough. Icanvouchfortheaccuracyofthe subjoinedaccount,forIhavehadaccesstoLestrade’s note-book,inwhichtheprisoner’swordsweretaken downexactlyastheywereuttered.</s>“It don’t much matter to you why I hated these men,” he said; “it’s enough that they were guilty of thedeathoftwohumanbeings—afatherandadaugh- ter—andthattheyhad,therefore,forfeitedtheirown lives. After the lapse of time that has passed since theircrime,itwasimpossibleformetosecureacon- viction against them in any court. I knew of their guiltthough,andIdeterminedthatIshouldbejudge, jury,andexecutionerallrolledintoone. You’dhave done the same, if you have any manhood in you, if youhadbeeninmyplace.</s>“ThatgirlthatIspokeofwastohavemarriedme twentyyearsago. Shewasforcedintomarryingthat sameDrebber,andbrokeherheartoverit. Itookthe marriageringfromherdeadfinger,andIvowedthat his dying eyes should rest upon that very ring, and thathislastthoughtsshouldbeofthecrimeforwhich hewaspunished. Ihavecarrieditaboutwithme,and havefollowedhimandhisaccompliceovertwocon- tinentsuntilIcaughtthem. Theythoughttotireme out, but they could not do it. If I die to-morrow, as islikelyenough,Idieknowingthatmyworkinthis world is done, and well done. They have perished, andbymyhand. Thereisnothingleftformetohope for,ortodesire.</s>“They were rich and I was poor, so that it was no easy matter for me to follow them. When I got toLondonmypocketwasaboutempty,andIfound thatImustturnmyhandtosomethingformyliving.</s>Driving and riding are as natural to me as walking, soIappliedatacabowner’soffice,andsoongotem- ployment. I was to bring a certain sum a week to theowner,andwhateverwasoverthatImightkeep formyself. Therewasseldommuchover,butIman- agedtoscrapealongsomehow. Thehardestjobwas to learn my way about, for I reckon that of all the mazesthateverwerecontrived,thiscityisthemost confusing. Ihadamapbesidemethough,andwhen onceIhadspottedtheprincipalhotelsandstations,I gotonprettywell.</s>“It was some time before I found out where my two gentlemen were living; but I inquired and in- quireduntilatlastIdroppedacrossthem. Theywere ataboarding-houseatCamberwell,overontheother sideoftheriver. WhenonceIfoundthemoutIknew thatIhadthematmymercy. Ihadgrownmybeard, and there was no chance of their recognizing me. I would dog them and follow them until I saw my opportunity. Iwasdeterminedthattheyshouldnot escapemeagain.</s>“They were very near doing it for all that. Go where they would about London, I was always at their heels. Sometimes I followed them on my cab, andsometimesonfoot,buttheformerwasthebest, forthentheycouldnotgetawayfromme. Itwasonly earlyinthemorningorlateatnightthatIcouldearn anything,sothatIbegantogetbehindhandwithmy employer. Ididnotmindthat,however,aslongasI couldlaymyhanduponthemenIwanted.</s>“Theywereverycunning,though. Theymusthave thoughtthattherewassomechanceoftheirbeingfol- lowed,fortheywouldnevergooutalone,andnever afternightfall. DuringtwoweeksIdrovebehindthem everyday,andneveroncesawthemseparate. Dreb- berhimselfwasdrunkhalfthetime,butStangerson was not to be caught napping. I watched them late andearly,butneversawtheghostofachance;butI wasnotdiscouraged,forsomethingtoldmethatthe hour had almost come. My only fear was that this thing in my chest might burst a little too soon and leavemyworkundone.</s>“Atlast,oneeveningIwasdrivingupanddown Torquay Terrace, as the street was called in which theyboarded,whenIsawacabdriveuptotheirdoor.</s>Presentlysomeluggagewasbroughtout,andaftera timeDrebberandStangersonfollowedit,anddrove off. I whipped up my horse and kept within sight ofthem,feelingveryillatease,forIfearedthatthey weregoingtoshifttheirquarters. AtEustonStation they got out, and I left a boy to hold my horse, and followedthemontotheplatform. Iheardthemask for the Liverpool train, and the guard answer that one had just gone and there would not be another forsomehours. Stangersonseemedtobeputoutat that,butDrebberwasratherpleasedthanotherwise.</s>IgotsoclosetotheminthebustlethatIcouldhear everywordthatpassedbetweenthem. Drebbersaid that he had a little business of his own to do, and that if the other would wait for him he would soon rejoin him. His companion remonstrated with him, and reminded him that they had resolved to stick together. Drebber answered that the matter was a delicateone,andthathemustgoalone. Icouldnot catchwhatStangersonsaidtothat,buttheotherburst outswearing,andremindedhimthathewasnothing more than his paid servant, and that he must not presumetodictatetohim. OnthattheSecretarygave it up as a bad job, and simply bargained with him thatifhemissedthelasttrainheshouldrejoinhimatHalliday’sPrivateHotel;towhichDrebberanswered thathewouldbebackontheplatformbeforeeleven, andmadehiswayoutofthestation.</s>“ThemomentforwhichIhadwaitedsolonghad atlastcome. Ihadmyenemieswithinmypower. To- gethertheycouldprotecteachother,butsinglythey wereatmymercy. Ididnotact,however,withundue precipitation. Myplanswerealreadyformed. There is no satisfaction in vengeance unless the offender has time to realize who it is that strikes him, and whyretributionhascomeuponhim. Ihadmyplans arrangedbywhichIshouldhavetheopportunityof making the man who had wronged me understand that his old sin had found him out. It chanced that somedaysbeforeagentlemanwhohadbeenengaged inlookingoversomehousesintheBrixtonRoadhad dropped the key of one of them in my carriage. It wasclaimedthatsameevening,andreturned;butin theintervalIhadtakenamouldingofit, andhada duplicateconstructed. BymeansofthisIhadaccess to at least one spot in this great city where I could rely upon being free from interruption. How to get Drebbertothathousewasthedifficultproblemwhich Ihadnowtosolve.</s>“Hewalkeddowntheroadandwentintooneor two liquor shops, staying for nearly half-an-hour in thelastofthem. Whenhecameouthestaggeredin his walk, and was evidently pretty well on. There was a hansom just in front of me, and he hailed it.</s>I followed it so close that the nose of my horse was withinayardofhisdriverthewholeway. Werattled acrossWaterlooBridgeandthroughmilesofstreets, until,tomyastonishment,wefoundourselvesback intheTerraceinwhichhehadboarded. Icouldnot imagine what his intention was in returning there; butIwentonandpulledupmycabahundredyards orsofromthehouse. Heenteredit,andhishansom drove away. Give me a glass of water, if you please.</s>Mymouthgetsdrywiththetalking.” Ihandedhimtheglass,andhedrankitdown.</s>“That’sbetter,”hesaid. “Well,Iwaitedforaquar- terofanhour,ormore,whensuddenlytherecamea noise like people struggling inside the house. Next moment the door was flung open and two men ap- peared,oneofwhomwasDrebber,andtheotherwas a young chap whom I had never seen before. This fellowhadDrebberbythecollar,andwhentheycame to the head of the steps he gave him a shove and a kickwhichsenthimhalfacrosstheroad. ‘Youhound,’ he cried, shaking his stick at him; ‘I’ll teach you to insult an honest girl!’ He was so hot that I think he would have thrashed Drebber with his cudgel, only thatthecurstaggeredawaydowntheroadasfastas hislegswouldcarryhim. Heranasfarasthecorner, and then, seeing my cab, he hailed me and jumped in. ‘DrivemetoHalliday’sPrivateHotel,’saidhe.</s>“WhenIhadhimfairlyinsidemycab, myheart jumped so with joy that I feared lest at this last mo- ment my aneurism might go wrong. I drove along slowly,weighinginmyownmindwhatitwasbestto do. Imighttakehimrightoutintothecountry,and there in some deserted lane have my last interview withhim. Ihadalmostdecideduponthis, whenhe solvedtheproblemforme. Thecrazefordrinkhad seizedhimagain,andheorderedmetopullupout- side a gin palace. He went in, leaving word that I shouldwaitforhim. Thereheremaineduntilclosing time,andwhenhecameouthewassofargonethatI knewthegamewasinmyownhands.</s>“Don’timaginethatIintendedtokillhimincold blood. ItwouldonlyhavebeenrigidjusticeifIhad doneso,butIcouldnotbringmyselftodoit. Ihad longdeterminedthatheshouldhaveashowforhis life if he chose to take advantage of it. Among the many billets which I have filled in America during my wandering life, I was once janitor and sweeper out of the laboratory at York College. One day the professor was lecturing on poisons, and he showed hisstudentssomealkaloid,ashecalledit,whichhe hadextractedfromsomeSouthAmericanarrowpoi- son,andwhichwassopowerfulthattheleastgrain meant instant death. I spotted the bottle in which this preparation was kept, and when they were all gone, I helped myself to a little of it. I was a fairly gooddispenser,soIworkedthisalkaloidintosmall, solublepills,andeachpillIputinaboxwithasim- ilar pill made without the poison. I determined at thetimethatwhenIhadmychance,mygentlemen should each have a draw out of one of these boxes, whileIatethepillthatremained. Itwouldbequiteas deadly,andagooddeallessnoisythanfiringacross ahandkerchief. FromthatdayIhadalwaysmypill boxes about with me, and the time had now come whenIwastousethem.</s>“Itwasneareronethantwelve,andawild,bleak night,blowinghardandrainingintorrents. Dismalas itwasoutside,Iwasgladwithin—sogladthatIcould haveshoutedoutfrompureexultation. Ifanyofyou gentlemen have ever pined for a thing, and longed for it during twenty long years, and then suddenly found it within your reach, you would understand myfeelings. Ilitacigar,andpuffedatittosteadymy nerves, but my hands were trembling, and my tem- ples throbbing with excitement. As I drove, I couldseeoldJohnFerrierandsweetLucylookingatmeout of the darkness and smiling at me, just as plain as I seeyouallinthisroom. Allthewaytheywereahead ofme,oneoneachsideofthehorseuntilIpulledup atthehouseintheBrixtonRoad.</s>“Therewasnotasoultobeseen,norasoundto be heard, except the dripping of the rain. When I lookedinatthewindow,IfoundDrebberallhuddled togetherinadrunkensleep. Ishookhimbythearm, ‘It’stimetogetout,’Isaid.</s>“‘Allright,cabby,’saidhe.</s>“Isupposehethoughtwehadcometothehotel thathehadmentioned,forhegotoutwithoutanother word, and followed me down the garden. I had to walkbesidehimtokeephimsteady,forhewasstilla littletop-heavy. Whenwecametothedoor,Iopened it, and led him into the front room. I give you my word that all the way, the father and the daughter werewalkinginfrontofus.</s>“‘It’sinfernallydark,’saidhe,stampingabout.</s>“‘We’llsoonhavealight,’Isaid,strikingamatch and putting it to a wax candle which I had brought withme. ‘Now,EnochDrebber,’Icontinued,turning to him, and holding the light to my own face, ‘who amI?’ “Hegazedatmewithbleared,drunkeneyesfora moment,andthenIsawahorrorspringupinthem, andconvulsehiswholefeatures, whichshowedme thatheknewme. Hestaggeredbackwithalividface, andIsawtheperspirationbreakoutuponhisbrow, while his teeth chattered in his head. At the sight, I leaned my back against the door and laughed loud andlong. Ihadalwaysknownthatvengeancewould besweet,butIhadneverhopedforthecontentment ofsoulwhichnowpossessedme.</s>“‘You dog!’ I said; ‘I have hunted you from Salt LakeCitytoSt.Petersburg,andyouhavealwayses- capedme. Now,atlastyourwanderingshavecometo anend,foreitheryouorIshallneverseeto-morrow’s sunrise.’ HeshrunkstillfurtherawayasIspoke,and IcouldseeonhisfacethathethoughtIwasmad. So Iwasforthetime. Thepulsesinmytemplesbeatlike sledge-hammers,andIbelieveIwouldhavehadafit of some sort if the blood had not gushed from my noseandrelievedme.</s>“‘WhatdoyouthinkofLucyFerriernow?’ Icried, locking the door, and shaking the key in his face.</s>‘Punishmenthasbeenslowincoming,butithasover- taken you at last.’ I saw his coward lips tremble as I spoke. He would have begged for his life, but he knewwellthatitwasuseless.</s>“‘Wouldyoumurderme?’ hestammered.</s>“‘Thereisnomurder,’Ianswered. ‘Whotalksof murderingamaddog? Whatmercyhadyouuponmy poordarling,whenyoudraggedherfromherslaugh- teredfather,andboreherawaytoyouraccursedand shamelessharem.’ “‘ItwasnotIwhokilledherfather,’hecried.</s>“‘Butitwasyouwhobrokeherinnocentheart,’I shrieked,thrustingtheboxbeforehim. ‘Letthehigh God judge between us. Choose and eat. There is death in one and life in the other. I shall take what youleave. Letusseeifthereisjusticeupontheearth, orifweareruledbychance.’ “He cowered away with wild cries and prayers for mercy, but I drew my knife and held it to his throatuntilhehadobeyedme. ThenIswallowedthe other,andwestoodfacingoneanotherinsilencefora minuteormore,waitingtoseewhichwastoliveand whichwastodie. ShallIeverforgetthelookwhich cameoverhisfacewhenthefirstwarningpangstold himthatthepoisonwasinhissystem? Ilaughedas I saw it, and held Lucy’s marriage ring in front of his eyes. It was but for a moment, for the action of thealkaloidisrapid. Aspasmofpaincontortedhis features;hethrewhishandsoutinfrontofhim,stag- gered,andthen,withahoarsecry,fellheavilyupon thefloor. Iturnedhimoverwithmyfoot,andplaced my hand upon his heart. There was no movement.</s>Hewasdead! “The blood had been streaming from my nose, but I had taken no notice of it. I don’t know what it was that put it into my head to write upon the wall with it. Perhaps it was some mischievous idea of setting the police upon a wrong track, for I felt light-heartedandcheerful. IrememberedaGerman being found in New York with RACHE written up abovehim,anditwasarguedatthetimeinthenews- papers that the secret societies must have done it. I guessed that what puzzled the New Yorkers would puzzle the Londoners, so I dipped my finger in my own blood and printed it on a convenient place on thewall. ThenIwalkeddowntomycabandfound thattherewasnobodyabout,andthatthenightwas still very wild. I had driven some distance when I putmyhandintothepocketinwhichIusuallykept Lucy’s ring, and found that it was not there. I was thunderstruck at this, for it was the only memento thatIhadofher. ThinkingthatImighthavedropped itwhenIstoopedoverDrebber’sbody,Idroveback, andleavingmycabinasidestreet,Iwentboldlyup tothehouse—forIwasreadytodareanythingrather than lose the ring. When I arrived there, I walkedrightintothearmsofapolice-officerwhowascoming out, and only managed to disarm his suspicions by pretendingtobehopelesslydrunk.</s>“That was how Enoch Drebber came to his end.</s>AllIhadtodothenwastodoasmuchforStangerson, and so pay off John Ferrier’s debt. I knew that he was staying at Halliday’s Private Hotel, and I hung aboutallday,buthenevercameout. Ifancythathe suspected somethingwhen Drebberfailed toput in anappearance. Hewascunning,wasStangerson,and alwaysonhisguard. Ifhethoughthecouldkeepme off by staying indoors he was very much mistaken.</s>Isoonfoundoutwhichwasthewindowofhisbed- room, and early next morning I took advantage of someladderswhichwerelyinginthelanebehindthe hotel,andsomademywayintohisroominthegrey of the dawn. I woke him up and told him that the hour had come when he was to answer for the life he had taken so long before. I described Drebber’s deathtohim,andIgavehimthesamechoiceofthe poisoned pills. Instead of grasping at the chance of safetywhichthatofferedhim,hesprangfromhisbed andflewatmythroat. Inself-defenceIstabbedhim totheheart. Itwouldhavebeenthesameinanycase, forProvidencewouldneverhaveallowedhisguilty handtopickoutanythingbutthepoison.</s>“Ihavelittlemoretosay,andit’saswell,forIam aboutdoneup. Iwentoncabbingitforadayorso, intending to keep at it until I could save enough to takemebacktoAmerica. Iwasstandingintheyard whenaraggedyoungsteraskediftherewasacabby therecalledJeffersonHope,andsaidthathiscabwas wantedbyagentlemanat221b,BakerStreet. Iwent round,suspectingnoharm,andthenextthingIknew, thisyoungmanherehadthebraceletsonmywrists, CHAPT he on T C We had all been warned to appear before the magistratesupontheThursday;butwhentheThurs- day came there was no occasion for our testimony.</s>A higher Judge had taken the matter in hand, and JeffersonHopehadbeensummonedbeforeatribunal where strict justice would be meted out to him. On andasneatlysnackledaseverIsawinmylife. That’s thewholeofmystory,gentlemen. Youmayconsider metobeamurderer;butIholdthatIamjustasmuch anofficerofjusticeasyouare.” Sothrillinghadtheman’snarrativebeen,andhis mannerwassoimpressivethatwehadsatsilentand absorbed. Even the professional detectives, blase as they were in every detail of crime, appeared to be keenly interested in the man’s story. When he fin- ished we sat for some minutes in a stillness which wasonlybrokenbythescratchingofLestrade’spen- cilashegavethefinishingtouchestohisshorthand account.</s>“There is only one point on which I should like a little more information,” Sherlock Holmes said at last. “Who was your accomplice who came for the ringwhichIadvertised?” Theprisonerwinkedatmyfriendjocosely. “Ican tell my own secrets,” he said, “but I don’t get other people into trouble. I saw your advertisement, and Ithoughtitmightbeaplant,oritmightbethering whichIwanted. Myfriendvolunteeredtogoandsee.</s>Ithinkyou’llownhediditsmartly.” “Notadoubtofthat,”saidHolmesheartily.</s>“Now, gentlemen,” the Inspector remarked gravely,“theformsofthelawmustbecompliedwith.</s>OnThursdaytheprisonerwillbebroughtbeforethe magistrates, and your attendance will be required.</s>UntilthenIwillberesponsibleforhim.”Herangthe bellashespoke,andJeffersonHopewasledoffbya couple of warders, while my friend and I made our way out of the Station and took a cab back to Baker Street.</s>TER VII.</s>nclusion the very night after his capture the aneurism burst, andhewasfoundinthemorningstretcheduponthe floor of the cell, with a placid smile upon his face, asthoughhehadbeenableinhisdyingmomentsto lookbackuponausefullife,andonworkwelldone.</s>“Gregson and Lestrade will be wild about hisdeath,”Holmesremarked,aswechatteditovernext evening. “Where will their grand advertisement be now?” “I don’t see that they had very much to do with hiscapture,”Ianswered.</s>“Whatyoudointhisworldisamatterofnocon- sequence,” returned my companion, bitterly. “The question is, what can you make people believe that you have done. Never mind,” he continued, more brightly,afterapause. “Iwouldnothavemissedthe investigationforanything. Therehasbeennobetter case within my recollection. Simple as it was, there wereseveralmostinstructivepointsaboutit.” “Simple!”Iejaculated.</s>“Well, really, it can hardly be described as other- wise,”saidSherlockHolmes,smilingatmysurprise.</s>“The proof of its intrinsic simplicity is, that without anyhelpsaveafewveryordinarydeductionsIwas able to lay my hand upon the criminal within three days.” “Thatistrue,”saidI.</s>“Ihavealreadyexplainedtoyouthatwhatisout of the common is usually a guide rather than a hin- drance. In solving a problem of this sort, the grand thing is to be able to reason backwards. That is a veryusefulaccomplishment,andaveryeasyone,but people do not practise it much. In the every-day af- fairsoflifeitismoreusefultoreasonforwards,and so the other comes to be neglected. There are fifty whocanreasonsyntheticallyforonewhocanreason analytically.” “Iconfess,”saidI,“thatIdonotquitefollowyou.” “Ihardlyexpectedthatyouwould. Letmeseeif I can make it clearer. Most people, if you describe a train of events to them, will tell you what the re- sultwouldbe. Theycanputthoseeventstogetherin theirminds,andarguefromthemthatsomethingwill cometopass. Therearefewpeople,however,who,if youtoldthemaresult,wouldbeabletoevolvefrom their own inner consciousness what the steps were whichleduptothatresult. ThispoweriswhatImean whenItalkofreasoningbackwards,oranalytically.” “Iunderstand,”saidI.</s>“Now this was a case in which you were given the result and had to find everything else for your- self. Nowletmeendeavourtoshowyouthedifferent steps in my reasoning. To begin at the beginning.</s>I approached the house, as you know, on foot, and with my mind entirely free from all impressions. I naturallybeganbyexaminingtheroadway,andthere, asIhavealreadyexplainedtoyou,Isawclearlythe marksofacab,which,Iascertainedbyinquiry,must have been there during the night. I satisfied myself that it was a cab and not a private carriage by the narrow gauge of the wheels. The ordinary London growlerisconsiderablylesswidethanagentleman’s brougham.</s>“This was the first point gained. I then walked slowlydownthegardenpath,whichhappenedtobe composedofaclaysoil,peculiarlysuitablefortaking impressions. No doubt it appeared to you to be a mere trampled line of slush, but to my trained eyes everymarkuponitssurfacehadameaning. Thereis nobranchofdetectivesciencewhichissoimportant andsomuchneglectedastheartoftracingfootsteps.</s>Happily,Ihavealwayslaidgreatstressuponit,and much practice has made it second nature to me. I sawtheheavyfootmarksoftheconstables,butIsaw also the track of the two men who had first passed throughthegarden. Itwaseasytotellthattheyhad beenbeforetheothers,becauseinplacestheirmarks had been entirely obliterated by the others coming upon the top of them. In this way my second link wasformed,whichtoldmethatthenocturnalvisitors were two in number, one remarkable for his height (asIcalculatedfromthelengthofhisstride),andthe other fashionably dressed, to judge from the small andelegantimpressionleftbyhisboots.</s>“Onenteringthehousethislastinferencewascon- firmed. Mywell-bootedmanlaybeforeme. Thetall one,then,haddonethemurder,ifmurdertherewas.</s>There was no wound upon the dead man’s person, buttheagitatedexpressionuponhisfaceassuredme that he had foreseen his fate before it came upon him. Menwhodiefromheartdisease,oranysudden naturalcause,neverbyanychanceexhibitagitation upon their features. Having sniffed the dead man’s lipsIdetectedaslightlysoursmell,andIcametothe conclusionthathehadhadpoisonforceduponhim.</s>Again, I argued that it had been forced upon him fromthehatredandfearexpresseduponhisface. By themethodofexclusion,Ihadarrivedatthisresult, for no other hypothesis would meet the facts. Do notimaginethatitwasaveryunheardofidea. The forcible administration of poison is by no means a newthingincriminalannals. ThecasesofDolskyin Odessa,andofLeturierinMontpellier,willoccurat oncetoanytoxicologist.</s>“Andnowcamethegreatquestionastothereason why. Robberyhadnotbeentheobjectofthemurder, fornothingwastaken. Wasitpolitics,then,orwasit a woman? That was the question which confrontedme. Iwasinclinedfromthefirsttothelattersupposi- tion. Politicalassassinsareonlytoogladtodotheir work and to fly. This murder had, on the contrary, beendonemostdeliberately,andtheperpetratorhad lefthistracksallovertheroom,showingthathehad been there all the time. It must have been a private wrong,andnotapoliticalone,whichcalledforsuch amethodicalrevenge. Whentheinscriptionwasdis- covereduponthewallIwasmoreinclinedthanever to my opinion. The thing was too evidently a blind.</s>Whentheringwasfound,however,itsettledtheques- tion. Clearlythemurdererhadusedittoremindhis victimofsomedeadorabsentwoman. Itwasatthis pointthatIaskedGregsonwhetherhehadenquired inhistelegramtoClevelandastoanyparticularpoint in Mr. Drebber’s former career. He answered, you remember,inthenegative.</s>“Ithenproceededtomakeacarefulexamination of the room, which confirmed me in my opinion as tothemurderer’sheight,andfurnishedmewiththe additionaldetailsastotheTrichinopolycigarandthe length of his nails. I had already come to the con- clusion,sincetherewerenosignsofastruggle,that thebloodwhichcoveredthefloorhadburstfromthe murderer’s nose in his excitement. I could perceive thatthetrackofbloodcoincidedwiththetrackofhis feet. Itisseldomthatanyman,unlessheisveryfull- blooded,breaksoutinthiswaythroughemotion,soI hazardedtheopinionthatthecriminalwasprobably arobustandruddy-facedman. EventsprovedthatI hadjudgedcorrectly.</s>“Having left the house, I proceeded to do what Gregsonhadneglected. Itelegraphedtotheheadof the police at Cleveland, limiting my enquiry to the circumstancesconnectedwiththemarriageofEnoch Drebber. Theanswerwasconclusive. Ittoldmethat Drebberhadalreadyappliedfortheprotectionofthe lawagainstanoldrivalinlove,namedJeffersonHope, and that this same Hope was at present in Europe.</s>I knew now that I held the clue to the mystery in my hand, and all that remained was to secure the murderer.</s>“Ihadalreadydeterminedinmyownmindthat themanwhohadwalkedintothehousewithDrebber, wasnoneotherthanthemanwhohaddriventhecab.</s>Themarksintheroadshowedmethatthehorsehad wanderedoninawaywhichwouldhavebeenimpos- sible had there been anyone in charge of it. Where, then, could the driver be, unless he were inside the house? Again,itisabsurdtosupposethatanysane man would carry out a deliberate crime under the veryeyes,asitwere,ofathirdperson,whowassure to betray him. Lastly, supposing one man wished todoganotherthroughLondon,whatbettermeans couldheadoptthantoturncabdriver. Allthesecon- siderationsledmetotheirresistibleconclusionthat JeffersonHopewastobefoundamongthejarveysof theMetropolis.</s>“Ifhehadbeenonetherewasnoreasontobelieve that he had ceased to be. On the contrary, from his pointofview,anysuddenchancewouldbelikelyto drawattentiontohimself. Hewould,probably,fora time at least, continue to perform his duties. There wasnoreasontosupposethathewasgoingunderan assumedname. Whyshouldhechangehisnameina countrywherenooneknewhisoriginalone? Ithere- fore organized my Street Arab detective corps, and sent them systematically to every cab proprietor in LondonuntiltheyferretedoutthemanthatIwanted.</s>How well they succeeded, and how quickly I took advantage of it, are still fresh in your recollection.</s>ThemurderofStangersonwasanincidentwhichwas entirely unexpected, but which could hardly in any casehavebeenprevented. Throughit, asyouknow, I came into possession of the pills, the existence of which I had already surmised. You see the whole thingisachainoflogicalsequenceswithoutabreak orflaw.” “Itiswonderful!”Icried. “Yourmeritsshouldbe publiclyrecognized. Youshouldpublishanaccount ofthecase. Ifyouwon’t,Iwillforyou.” “Youmaydowhatyoulike,Doctor,”heanswered.</s>“Seehere!”hecontinued,handingapaperovertome, “lookatthis!” ItwastheEchofortheday,andtheparagraphto whichhepointedwasdevotedtothecaseinquestion.</s>“Thepublic,”itsaid,“havelostasensationaltreat through the sudden death of the man Hope, who was suspected of the murder of Mr. Enoch Drebber andofMr.JosephStangerson. Thedetailsofthecase will probably be never known now, though we are informedupongoodauthoritythatthecrimewasthe resultofanoldstandingandromanticfeud,inwhich loveandMormonismboreapart. Itseemsthatboth the victims belonged, in their younger days, to the Latter Day Saints, and Hope, the deceased prisoner, hailsalsofromSaltLakeCity. Ifthecasehashadno othereffect,it,atleast,bringsoutinthemoststriking manner the efficiency of our detective police force, and will serve as a lesson to all foreigners that they willdowiselytosettletheirfeudsathome,andnotto carrythemontoBritishsoil. Itisanopensecretthat thecreditofthissmartcapturebelongsentirelytothewell-knownScotlandYardofficials,Messrs.Lestrade andGregson. Themanwasapprehended,itappears, intheroomsofacertainMr.SherlockHolmes,who hashimself,asanamateur,shownsometalentinthe detective line, and who, with such instructors, may hope in time to attain to some degree of their skill.</s>Itisexpectedthatatestimonialofsomesortwillbe presented to the two officers as a fitting recognition oftheirservices.” “Didn’tItellyousowhenwestarted?”criedSher- lock Holmes with a laugh. “That’s the result of all ourStudyinScarlet: togetthematestimonial!” “Nevermind,”Ianswered,“Ihaveallthefactsin my journal, and the public shall know them. In the meantimeyoumustmakeyourselfcontentedbythe consciousnessofsuccess,liketheRomanmiser— “‘Populusmesibilat,atmihiplaudo Ipsedomisimulacnummoscontemplarinarca.’”Table of TheScienceofDeduction............</s>TheStatementoftheCase...........</s>InQuestofaSolution...............</s>TheStoryoftheBald-HeadedMan..</s>TheTragedyofPondicherryLodge..</s>SherlockHolmesGivesaDemonstrat TheEpisodeoftheBarrel............</s>TheBakerStreetIrregulars..........</s>ABreakintheChain................</s>TheEndoftheIslander..............</s>TheGreatAgraTreasure.............</s>TheStrangeStoryofJonathanSmall.</s>contents ................................. 67 ................................ 70 ................................ 73 ................................ 75 ................................ 79 on.............................. 82 ................................. 86 ................................ 91 ................................ 95 ................................. 99 ................................. 103 ................................. 105CHAP he cience T S herlockHolmestookhisbottlefromthe corner of the mantelpiece and his hypo- dermicsyringefromitsneatmoroccocase.</s>S Withhislong,white,nervousfingershead- justed the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. Forsomelittletimehiseyesrestedthought- fully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Fi- nallyhethrustthesharppointhome,presseddown the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chairwithalongsighofsatisfaction.</s>Three times a day for many months I had wit- nessedthisperformance,butcustomhadnotrecon- ciled my mind to it. On the contrary, from day to dayIhadbecomemoreirritableatthesight,andmy conscienceswellednightlywithinmeatthethought that I had lacked the courage to protest. Again and again I had registered a vow that I should deliver my soul upon the subject, but there was that in the cool, nonchalant air of my companion which made himthelastmanwithwhomonewouldcaretotake anythingapproachingtoaliberty. Hisgreatpowers, hismasterlymanner,andtheexperiencewhichIhad hadofhismanyextraordinaryqualities,allmademe diffidentandbackwardincrossinghim.</s>Yet upon that afternoon, whether it was the Beaune which I had taken with my lunch, or the additionalexasperationproducedbytheextremede- liberationofhismanner,IsuddenlyfeltthatIcould holdoutnolonger.</s>“Whichisitto-day?”Iasked,—“morphineorco- caine?” He raised his eyes languidly from the old black- letter volume which he had opened. “It is cocaine,” hesaid,—“aseven-per-centsolution. Wouldyoucare totryit?” “No,indeed,”Ianswered,brusquely. “Myconsti- tution has not got over the Afghan campaign yet. I cannotaffordtothrowanyextrastrainuponit.” He smiled at my vehemence. “Perhaps you are right,Watson,”hesaid. “Isupposethatitsinfluence isphysicallyabadone. Ifindit,however,sotranscen- dentlystimulatingandclarifyingtothemindthatits secondaryactionisamatterofsmallmoment.” “Butconsider!”Isaid,earnestly. “Countthecost! Your brain may, as you say, be roused and excited, but it is a pathological and morbid process, which involvesincreasedtissue-changeandmayatlastleave PTER I.</s>of eduction D apermanentweakness. Youknow,too,whatablack reactioncomesuponyou. Surelythegameishardly worththecandle. Whyshouldyou,foramerepass- ingpleasure,riskthelossofthosegreatpowerswith which you have been endowed? Remember that I speak not only as one comrade to another, but as a medical man to one for whose constitution he is to someextentanswerable.” He did not seem offended. On the contrary, he puthisfingertipstogetherandleanedhiselbowson the arms of his chair, like one who has a relish for conversation.</s>“My mind,” he said, “rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most ab- strusecryptogramorthemostintricateanalysis,and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation.</s>ThatiswhyIhavechosenmyownparticularprofes- sion,—or rather created it, for I am the only one in theworld.” “Theonlyunofficialdetective?”Isaid,raisingmy eyebrows.</s>“Theonlyunofficialconsultingdetective,”hean- swered. “I am the last and highest court of appeal indetection. WhenGregsonorLestradeorAthelney Jones are out of their depths—which, by the way, is their normal state—the matter is laid before me. I examinethedata,asanexpert,andpronounceaspe- cialist’sopinion. Iclaimnocreditinsuchcases. My name figures in no newspaper. The work itself, the pleasureoffindingafieldformypeculiarpowers,is myhighestreward. Butyouhaveyourselfhadsome experience of my methods of work in the Jefferson Hopecase.” “Yes, indeed,” said I, cordially. “I was never so struckbyanythinginmylife. Ievenembodieditin asmallbrochurewiththesomewhatfantastictitleof ‘AStudyinScarlet.’” Heshookhisheadsadly. “Iglancedoverit,”said he. “Honestly, I cannot congratulate you upon it.</s>Detection is, or ought to be, an exact science, and shouldbetreatedinthesamecoldandunemotional manner. Youhaveattemptedtotingeitwithromanti- cism,whichproducesmuchthesameeffectasifyou worked a love-story or an elopement into the fifth propositionofEuclid.” “But the romance was there,” I remonstrated. “I couldnottamperwiththefacts.”“Some facts should be suppressed, or at least a justsenseofproportionshouldbeobservedintreat- ingthem. Theonlypointinthecasewhichdeserved mention was the curious analytical reasoning from effectstocausesbywhichIsucceededinunraveling it.” I was annoyed at this criticism of a work which hadbeenspeciallydesignedtopleasehim. Iconfess, too,thatIwasirritatedbytheegotismwhichseemed todemandthateverylineofmypamphletshouldbe devoted to his own special doings. More than once during the years that I had lived with him in Baker StreetIhadobservedthatasmallvanityunderlaymy companion’s quiet and didactic manner. I made no remark,however,butsatnursingmywoundedleg. I hadaJezailbulletthroughitsometimebefore,and, thoughitdidnotpreventmefromwalking,itached wearilyateverychangeoftheweather.</s>“MypracticehasextendedrecentlytotheConti- nent,” said Holmes, after a while, filling up his old brier-root pipe. “I was consulted last week by Fran- coisLeVillard,who,asyouprobablyknow,hascome rather to the front lately in the French detective ser- vice. He has all the Celtic power of quick intuition, butheisdeficientinthewiderangeofexactknowl- edge which is essential to the higher developments of his art. The case was concerned with a will, and possessedsomefeaturesofinterest. Iwasabletorefer himtotwoparallelcases,theoneatRigain1857,and theotheratSt.Louisin1871,whichhavesuggested to him the true solution. Here is the letter which I hadthismorningacknowledgingmyassistance.”He tossedover,ashespoke,acrumpledsheetofforeign notepaper. Iglancedmyeyesdownit,catchingapro- fusionofnotesofadmiration,withstraymagnifiques, coup-de-maˆıtres and tours-de-force, all testifying to the ardentadmirationoftheFrenchman.</s>“Hespeaksasapupiltohismaster,”saidI.</s>“Oh,heratesmyassistancetoohighly,”saidSher- lockHolmes,lightly. “Hehasconsiderablegiftshim- self. Hepossessestwooutofthethreequalitiesnec- essary for the ideal detective. He has the power of observationandthatofdeduction. Heisonlywanting inknowledge;andthatmaycomeintime. Heisnow translatingmysmallworksintoFrench.” “Yourworks?” “Oh,didn’tyouknow?”hecried,laughing. “Yes, I have been guilty of several monographs. They are all upon technical subjects. Here, for example, is one‘UpontheDistinctionbetweentheAshesoftheVari- ousTobaccoes.’ InitIenumerateahundredandforty formsofcigar-,cigarette-,andpipe-tobacco,withcol- oredplatesillustratingthedifferenceintheash. Itis a point which is continually turning up in criminal trials,andwhichissometimesofsupremeimportance asaclue. Ifyoucansaydefinitely,forexample,that somemurderhasbeendonebyamanwhowassmok- inganIndianlunkah,itobviouslynarrowsyourfield ofsearch. Tothetrainedeyethereisasmuchdiffer- encebetweentheblackashofaTrichinopolyandthe whitefluffofbird’s-eyeasthereisbetweenacabbage andapotato.” “Youhaveanextraordinarygeniusforminutiae,” Iremarked.</s>“Iappreciatetheirimportance. Hereismymono- graph upon the tracing of footsteps, with some re- marksupontheusesofplasterofParisasapreserver ofimpresses. Here,too,isacuriouslittleworkupon the influence of a trade upon the form of the hand, with lithotypes of the hands of slaters, sailors, cork- cutters,compositors,weavers,anddiamond-polishers.</s>That is a matter of great practical interest to the sci- entific detective,—especially in cases of unclaimed bodies,orindiscoveringtheantecedentsofcriminals.</s>ButIwearyyouwithmyhobby.” “Not at all,” I answered, earnestly. “It is of the greatestinteresttome,especiallysinceIhavehadthe opportunity of observing your practical application ofit. Butyouspokejustnowofobservationandde- duction. Surely the one to some extent implies the other.” “Why, hardly,” he answered, leaning back luxu- riously in his armchair, and sending up thick blue wreaths from his pipe. “For example, observation showsmethatyouhavebeentotheWigmoreStreet Post-Officethismorning,butdeductionletsmeknow thatwhenthereyoudispatchedatelegram.” “Right!”saidI.“Rightonbothpoints! ButIcon- fess that I don’t see how you arrived at it. It was a suddenimpulseuponmypart,andIhavementioned ittonoone.” “Itissimplicityitself,”heremarked,chucklingat my surprise,—“so absurdly simple that an explana- tionissuperfluous;andyetitmayservetodefinethe limitsofobservationandofdeduction. Observation tellsmethatyouhavealittlereddishmouldadhering toyourinstep. JustoppositetheSeymourStreetOf- ficetheyhavetakenupthepavementandthrownup someearthwhichliesinsuchawaythatitisdifficult to avoid treading in it in entering. The earth is of this peculiar reddish tint which is found, as far as Iknow,nowhereelseintheneighborhood. Somuchis observation. Therestisdeduction.” “How,then,didyoudeducethetelegram?” “Why,ofcourseIknewthatyouhadnotwritten aletter,sinceIsatoppositetoyouallmorning. Isee alsoinyouropendesktherethatyouhaveasheetof stampsandathickbundleofpostcards. Whatcould you go into the post-office for, then, but to send a wire? Eliminateallotherfactors,andtheonewhich remainsmustbethetruth.” “In this case it certainly is so,” I replied, after a littlethought. “Thething,however,is,asyousay,of the simplest. Would you think me impertinent if I weretoputyourtheoriestoamoreseveretest?” “Onthecontrary,”heanswered,“itwouldprevent mefromtakingaseconddoseofcocaine. Ishouldbe delightedtolookintoanyproblemwhichyoumight submittome.” “Ihaveheardyousaythatitisdifficultforaman to have any object in daily use without leaving the impress of his individuality upon it in such a way that a trained observer might read it. Now, I have here a watch which has recently come into my pos- session. Wouldyouhavethekindnesstoletmehave an opinion upon the character or habits of the late owner?” I handed him over the watch with some slight feelingofamusementinmyheart,forthetestwas,as I thought, an impossible one, and I intended it as a lessonagainstthesomewhatdogmatictonewhichhe occasionallyassumed. Hebalancedthewatchinhis hand, gazed hard at the dial, opened the back, and examined the works, first with his naked eyes and thenwithapowerfulconvexlens. Icouldhardlykeep from smiling at his crestfallen face when he finally snappedthecasetoandhandeditback.</s>“Therearehardlyanydata,”heremarked. “The watch has been recently cleaned, which robs me of mymostsuggestivefacts.” “You are right,” I answered. “It was cleaned be- fore being sent to me.” In my heart I accused my companion of putting forward a most lame and im- potentexcusetocoverhisfailure. Whatdatacouldhe expectfromanuncleanedwatch? “Thoughunsatisfactory,myresearchhasnotbeen entirelybarren,”heobserved,staringupattheceiling withdreamy,lack-lustreeyes. “Subjecttoyourcorrec- tion,Ishouldjudgethatthewatchbelongedtoyour elderbrother,whoinheriteditfromyourfather.” “Thatyougather,nodoubt,fromtheH.W.upon theback?” “Quiteso. TheW.suggestsyourownname. The date of the watch is nearly fifty years back, and the initialsareasoldasthewatch: soitwasmadeforthe lastgeneration. Jewelryusuallydescentstotheeldest son,andheismostlikelytohavethesamenameas thefather. Yourfatherhas,ifIrememberright,been deadmanyyears. Ithas,therefore,beeninthehands ofyoureldestbrother.” “Right,sofar,”saidI.“Anythingelse?” “He was a man of untidy habits,—very untidy and careless. He was left with good prospects, but he threw away his chances, lived for some time in povertywithoccasionalshortintervalsofprosperity, andfinally,takingtodrink,hedied. ThatisallIcan gather.” I sprang from my chair and limped impatiently about the room with considerable bitterness in my heart.</s>“This is unworthy of you, Holmes,” I said. “I could not have believed that you would have de- scended to this. You have made inquires into the historyofmyunhappybrother,andyounowpretend todeducethisknowledgeinsomefancifulway. You cannotexpectmetobelievethatyouhavereadallthis fromhisoldwatch! Itisunkind,and,tospeakplainly, hasatouchofcharlatanisminit.” “Mydeardoctor,”saidhe,kindly,“prayacceptmy apologies. Viewingthematterasanabstractproblem, I had forgotten how personal and painful a thing it mightbetoyou. Iassureyou, however, thatInever evenknewthatyouhadabrotheruntilyouhanded methewatch.” “Then how in the name of all that is wonderful did you get these facts? They are absolutely correct ineveryparticular.” “Ah,thatisgoodluck. Icouldonlysaywhatwas thebalanceofprobability. Ididnotatallexpecttobe soaccurate.“ “Butitwasnotmereguess-work?” “No, no: I never guess. It is a shocking habit,—destructivetothelogicalfaculty. Whatseems strange to you is only so because you do not follow mytrainofthoughtorobservethesmallfactsupon which large inferences may depend. For example, I beganbystatingthatyourbrotherwascareless. When youobservethelowerpartofthatwatch-caseyouno- tice that it is not only dinted in two places, but it is cut and marked all over from the habit of keeping otherhardobjects,suchascoinsorkeys,inthesame pocket. Surelyitisnogreatfeattoassumethataman whotreatsafifty-guineawatchsocavalierlymustbeacarelessman. Neitherisitaveryfar-fetchedinference that a man who inherits one article of such value is prettywellprovidedforinotherrespects.” Inodded,toshowthatIfollowedhisreasoning.</s>“ItisverycustomaryforpawnbrokersinEngland, whentheytakeawatch,toscratchthenumberofthe ticket with a pin-point upon the inside of the case.</s>It is more handy than a label, as there is no risk of the number being lost or transposed. There are no lessthanfoursuchnumbersvisibletomylensonthe insideofthiscase. Inference,—thatyourbrotherwas oftenatlowwater. Secondaryinference,—thathehad occasionalburstsofprosperity,orhecouldnothave redeemed the pledge. Finally, I ask you to look at theinnerplate,whichcontainsthekey-hole. Lookat thethousandsofscratchesallroundthehole,—marks where the key has slipped. What sober man’s key couldhavescoredthosegrooves? Butyouwillnever seeadrunkard’swatchwithoutthem. Hewindsitat night,andheleavesthesetracesofhisunsteadyhand.</s>Whereisthemysteryinallthis?” “It is as clear as daylight,” I answered. “I regret theinjusticewhichIdidyou. Ishouldhavehadmore CHAP he tatemen T S MissMorstanenteredtheroomwithafirmstep and an outward composure of manner. She was a blonde young lady, small, dainty, well gloved, and dressed in the most perfect taste. There was, how- ever, a plainness and simplicity about her costume whichborewithitasuggestionoflimitedmeans. The dress was a sombre grayish beige, untrimmed and unbraided,andsheworeasmallturbanofthesame dullhue,relievedonlybyasuspicionofwhitefeather intheside. Herfacehadneitherregularityoffeature nor beauty of complexion, but her expression was sweetandamiable,andherlargeblueeyesweresin- gularlyspiritualandsympathetic. Inanexperienceof womenwhichextendsovermanynationsandthree separatecontinents,Ihaveneverlookeduponaface whichgaveaclearerpromiseofarefinedandsensi- tivenature. Icouldnotbutobservethatasshetook theseatwhichSherlockHolmesplacedforher,herlip faithinyourmarvellousfaculty. MayIaskwhether youhaveanyprofessionalinquiryonfootatpresent?” “None. Hencethecocaine. Icannotlivewithout brain-work. Whatelseistheretolivefor? Standatthe windowhere. Waseversuchadreary,dismal,unprof- itableworld? Seehowtheyellowfogswirlsdownthe streetanddriftsacrosstheduncoloredhouses. What couldbemorehopelesslyprosaicandmaterial? What is the use of having powers, doctor, when one has no field upon which to exert them? Crime is com- monplace,existenceiscommonplace,andnoqualities savethosewhicharecommonplacehaveanyfunction uponearth.” I had opened my mouth to reply to this tirade, whenwithacrispknockourlandladyentered,bear- ingacarduponthebrasssalver.</s>“Ayoungladyforyou,sir,”shesaid,addressing mycompanion.</s>“MissMaryMorstan,”heread. “Hum! Ihaveno recollectionofthename. Asktheyoungladytostep up, Mrs. Hudson. Don’t go, doctor. I should prefer thatyouremain.” TER II.</s>nt of the ase C trembled,herhandquivered,andsheshowedevery signofintenseinwardagitation.</s>“Ihavecometoyou,Mr.Holmes,”shesaid,“be- causeyouonceenabledmyemployer,Mrs.CecilFor- rester,tounravelalittledomesticcomplication. She wasmuchimpressedbyyourkindnessandskill.” “Mrs. Cecil Forrester,” he repeated thoughtfully.</s>“IbelievethatIwasofsomeslightservicetoher. The case, however, as I remember it, was a very simple one.” “Shedidnotthinkso. Butatleastyoucannotsay thesameofmine. Icanhardlyimagineanythingmore strange,moreutterlyinexplicable,thanthesituation inwhichIfindmyself.” Holmesrubbedhishands,andhiseyesglistened.</s>Heleanedforwardinhischairwithanexpressionofextraordinaryconcentrationuponhisclear-cut,hawk- like features. “State your case,” said he, in brisk, businesstones.</s>I felt that my position was an embarrassing one.</s>“Youwill, Iamsure, excuseme,”Isaid, risingfrom mychair.</s>Tomysurprise,theyoungladyhelduphergloved handtodetainme. “Ifyourfriend,”shesaid,“would begoodenoughtostop,hemightbeofinestimable servicetome.” Irelapsedintomychair.</s>“Briefly,”shecontinued,“thefactsarethese. My fatherwasanofficerinanIndianregimentwhosent mehomewhenIwasquiteachild. Mymotherwas dead,andIhadnorelativeinEngland. Iwasplaced, however,inacomfortableboardingestablishmentat Edinburgh,andthereIremaineduntilIwasseventeen yearsofage. Intheyear1878myfather,whowasse- niorcaptainofhisregiment,obtainedtwelvemonths’ leave and came home. He telegraphed to me from Londonthathehadarrivedallsafe,anddirectedme tocomedownatonce,givingtheLanghamHotelas hisaddress. Hismessage,asIremember,wasfullof kindnessandlove. OnreachingLondonIdrovetothe Langham, and was informed that Captain Morstan wasstayingthere,butthathehadgoneoutthenight before and had not yet returned. I waited all day withoutnewsofhim. Thatnight,ontheadviceofthe managerofthehotel,Icommunicatedwiththepolice, and next morning we advertised in all the papers.</s>Our inquiries let to no result; and from that day to thisnowordhaseverbeenheardofmyunfortunate father. Hecamehomewithhisheartfullofhope,to find some peace, some comfort, and instead—” She put her hand to her throat, and a choking sob cut shortthesentence.</s>“Thedate?”askedHolmes,openinghisnote-book.</s>“He disappeared upon the 3d of December, 1878,—nearlytenyearsago.” “Hisluggage?” “Remained at the hotel. There was nothing in it tosuggestaclue,—someclothes,somebooks,anda considerablenumberofcuriositiesfromtheAndaman Islands. Hehadbeenoneoftheofficersinchargeof theconvict-guardthere.” “Hadheanyfriendsintown?” “Onlyonethatweknowof,—MajorSholto,ofhis ownregiment,the34thBombayInfantry. Themajor hadretiredsomelittletimebefore,andlivedatUpper Norwood. We communicated with him, of course, buthedidnotevenknowthathisbrotherofficerwas inEngland.” “Asingularcase,”remarkedHolmes.</s>“I have not yet described to you the most singu- larpart. Aboutsixyearsago—tobeexact,uponthe 4thofMay,1882—anadvertisementappearedinthe Times asking for the address of Miss Mary Morstan andstatingthatitwouldbetoheradvantagetocome forward. Therewasnonameoraddressappended. I hadatthattimejustenteredthefamilyofMrs.Cecil Forresterinthecapacityofgoverness. ByheradviceI publishedmyaddressintheadvertisementcolumn.</s>Thesamedaytherearrivedthroughthepostasmall card-board box addressed to me, which I found to containaverylargeandlustrouspearl. Nowordof writingwasenclosed. Sincetheneveryyearuponthe same date there has always appeared a similar box, containingasimilarpearl,withoutanyclueastothe sender. Theyhavebeenpronouncedbyanexpertto be of a rare variety and of considerable value. You canseeforyourselvesthattheyareveryhandsome.” Sheopenedaflatboxasshespoke,andshowedme sixofthefinestpearlsthatIhadeverseen.</s>“Yourstatementismostinteresting,”saidSherlock Holmes. “Hasanythingelseoccurredtoyou?” “Yes, and no later than to-day. That is why I havecometoyou. ThismorningIreceivedthisletter, whichyouwillperhapsreadforyourself.” “Thank you,” said Holmes. “The envelope too, please. Postmark, London, S.W. Date, July 7. Hum! Man’s thumb-mark on corner,—probably postman.</s>Best quality paper. Envelopes at sixpence a packet.</s>Particular man in his stationery. No address. ‘Be at thethirdpillarfromtheleftoutsidetheLyceumThe- atre to-night at seven o’clock. If you are distrustful, bring two friends. You are a wronged woman, and shallhavejustice. Donotbringpolice. Ifyoudo,all will be in vain. Your unknown friend.’ Well, really, thisisaveryprettylittlemystery. Whatdoyouintend todo,MissMorstan?” “ThatisexactlywhatIwanttoaskyou.” “Then we shall most certainly go. You and I and—yes,why,Dr.Watsonistheveryman. Yourcor- respondentsaystwofriends. HeandIhaveworked togetherbefore.” “Butwouldhecome?”sheasked,withsomething appealinginhervoiceandexpression.</s>“Ishouldbeproudandhappy,”saidI,fervently, “ifIcanbeofanyservice.” “Youarebothverykind,”sheanswered. “Ihave ledaretiredlife,andhavenofriendswhomIcould appealto. IfIamhereatsixitwilldo,Isuppose?”“You must not be later,” said Holmes. “There is one other point, however. Is this handwriting the sameasthatuponthepearl-boxaddresses?” “Ihavethemhere,”sheanswered,producinghalf adozenpiecesofpaper.</s>“You are certainly a model client. You have the correctintuition. Letussee,now.”Hespreadoutthe papersuponthetable,andgavelittledartingglances from one to the other. “They are disguised hands, except the letter,” he said, presently, “but there can benoquestionastotheauthorship. Seehowtheirre- pressibleGreekewillbreakout,andseethetwirlof thefinals. Theyareundoubtedlybythesameperson.</s>Ishouldnotliketosuggestfalsehopes,MissMorstan, butisthereanyresemblancebetweenthishandand thatofyourfather?” “Nothingcouldbemoreunlike.” “Iexpectedtohearyousayso. Weshalllookout for you, then, at six. Pray allow me to keep the pa- pers. Imaylookintothematterbeforethen. Itisonly half-pastthree. Aurevoir,then.” “Au revoir,” said our visitor, and, with a bright, kindlyglancefromonetotheotherofus,shereplaced herpearl-boxinherbosomandhurriedaway. Stand- ing at the window, I watched her walking briskly down the street, until the gray turban and white featherwerebutaspeckinthesombrecrowd.</s>“Whataveryattractivewoman!”Iexclaimed,turn- ingtomycompanion.</s>He had lit his pipe again, and was leaning back withdroopingeyelids. “Isshe?”hesaid,languidly. “I didnotobserve.” “You really are an automaton,—a calculating- machine!” I cried. “There is something positively inhumaninyouattimes.” Hesmiledgently. “Itisofthefirstimportance,”he said,“nottoallowyourjudgmenttobebiasedbyper- sonalqualities. Aclientistomeamereunit,—afactor inaproblem. Theemotionalqualitiesareantagonistic toclearreasoning. Iassureyouthatthemostwinning womanIeverknewwashangedforpoisoningthree littlechildrenfortheirinsurance-money,andthemost repellantmanofmyacquaintanceisaphilanthropist whohasspentnearlyaquarterofamillionuponthe Londonpoor.” “Inthiscase,however—” “Inevermakeexceptions. Anexceptiondisproves therule. Haveyoueverhadoccasiontostudycharac- terinhandwriting? Whatdoyoumakeofthisfellow’s scribble?” “Itislegibleandregular,”Ianswered. “Amanof businesshabitsandsomeforceofcharacter.” Holmesshookhishead. “Lookathislongletters,” he said. “They hardly rise above the common herd.</s>Thatdmightbeana,andthatlane. Menofcharacter alwaysdifferentiatetheirlongletters,howeverillegi- blytheymaywrite. Thereisvacillationinhisk’sand self-esteeminhiscapitals. Iamgoingoutnow. Ihave somefewreferencestomake. Letmerecommendthis book,—oneofthemostremarkableeverpenned. Itis WinwoodReade’sMartyrdomofMan. Ishallbeback inanhour.” Isatinthewindowwiththevolumeinmyhand, but my thoughts were far from the daring specu- lations of the writer. My mind ran upon our late visitor,—hersmiles,thedeeprichtonesofhervoice, the strange mystery which overhung her life. If she wereseventeenatthetimeofherfather’sdisappear- ance she must be seven-and-twenty now,—a sweet age, when youth has lost its self-consciousness and become a little sobered by experience. So I sat and mused,untilsuchdangerousthoughtscameintomy head that I hurried away to my desk and plunged furiouslyintothelatesttreatiseuponpathology. What wasI,anarmysurgeonwithaweaklegandaweaker banking-account,thatIshoulddaretothinkofsuch things? She was a unit, a factor,—nothing more. If my future were black, it was better surely to face it like a man than to attempt to brighten it by mere will-o’-the-wispsoftheimagination.CHAP n uest of I Q Itwashalf-pastfivebeforeHolmesreturned. He was bright, eager, and in excellent spirits,—a mood whichinhiscasealternatedwithfitsoftheblackest depression.</s>“Thereisnogreatmysteryinthismatter,”hesaid, takingthecupofteawhichIhadpouredoutforhim.</s>“Thefactsappeartoadmitofonlyoneexplanation.” “What! youhavesolveditalready?” “Well,thatwouldbetoomuchtosay. Ihavedis- covered a suggestive fact, that is all. It is, however, very suggestive. The details are still to be added. I have just found, on consulting the back files of the Times, that Major Sholto, of Upper Norword, late of the34thBombayInfantry,dieduponthe28thofApril, 1882.” “I may be very obtuse, Holmes, but I fail to see whatthissuggests.” “No? You surprise me. Look at it in this way, then. Captain Morstan disappears. The only per- soninLondonwhomhecouldhavevisitedisMajor Sholto. MajorSholtodenieshavingheardthathewas in London. Four years later Sholto dies. Within a weekofhisdeathCaptainMorstan’sdaughterreceives a valuable present, which is repeated from year to year,andnowculminatesinaletterwhichdescribes her as a wronged woman. What wrong can it refer to except this deprivation of her father? And why shouldthepresentsbeginimmediatelyafterSholto’s death,unlessitisthatSholto’sheirknowssomething of the mystery and desires to make compensation? Haveyouanyalternativetheorywhichwillmeetthe facts?” “But what a strange compensation! And how strangely made! Why, too, should he write a letter now, rather than six years ago? Again, the letter speaks of giving her justice. What justice can she have? Itistoomuchtosupposethatherfatherisstill alive. Thereisnootherinjusticeinhercasethatyou knowof.” “There are difficulties; there are certainly diffi- culties,” said Sherlock Holmes, pensively. “But our expeditionofto-nightwillsolvethemall. Ah,hereis afour-wheeler,andMissMorstanisinside. Areyou all ready? Then we had better go down, for it is a littlepastthehour.” Ipickedupmyhatandmyheavieststick,butIob- servedthatHolmestookhisrevolverfromhisdrawer TER III.</s>a olution S and slipped it into his pocket. It was clear that he thoughtthatournight’sworkmightbeaseriousone.</s>Miss Morstan was muffled in a dark cloak, and hersensitivefacewascomposed,butpale. Shemust havebeenmorethanwomanifshedidnotfeelsome uneasinessatthestrangeenterpriseuponwhichwe wereembarking,yetherself-controlwasperfect,and she readily answered the few additional questions whichSherlockHolmesputtoher.</s>“Major Sholto was a very particular friend of papa’s,” she said. “His letters were full of allusions to the major. He and papa were in command of the troopsattheAndamanIslands,sotheywerethrown agreatdealtogether. Bytheway,acuriouspaperwas foundinpapa’sdeskwhichnoonecouldunderstand.</s>Idon’tsupposethatitisoftheslightestimportance, butIthoughtyoumightcaretoseeit,soIbroughtit withme. Itishere.” Holmes unfolded the paper carefully and smoothed it out upon his knee. He then very me- thodicallyexamineditalloverwithhisdoublelens.</s>“ItispaperofnativeIndianmanufacture,”here- marked. “Ithasatsometimebeenpinnedtoaboard.</s>Thediagramuponitappearstobeaplanofpartof alargebuildingwithnumeroushalls,corridors,and passages. Atonepointisasmallcrossdoneinredink, andaboveitis‘3.37fromleft,’infadedpencil-writing.</s>Intheleft-handcornerisacurioushieroglyphiclike fourcrossesinalinewiththeirarmstouching. Beside itiswritten,inveryroughandcoarsecharacters,‘The sign of the four,—Jonathan Small, Mahomet Singh, Abdullah Khan, Dost Akbar.’ No, I confess that I do not see how this bears upon the matter. Yet it is evidentlyadocumentofimportance. Ithasbeenkept carefullyinapocket-book;fortheonesideisasclean astheother.” “Itwasinhispocket-bookthatwefoundit.” “Preserve it carefully, then, Miss Morstan, for it mayprovetobeofusetous. Ibegintosuspectthat thismattermayturnouttobemuchdeeperandmore subtle than I at first supposed. I must reconsider my ideas.” He leaned back in the cab, and I could see by his drawn brow and his vacant eye that he wasthinkingintently. MissMorstanandIchattedin an undertone about our present expedition and its possibleoutcome,butourcompanionmaintainedhis impenetrablereserveuntiltheendofourjourney.</s>It was a September evening, and not yet seven o’clock, but the day had been a dreary one, and adense drizzly fog lay low upon the great city. Mud- coloredcloudsdroopedsadlyoverthemuddystreets.</s>DowntheStrandthelampswerebutmistysplotches of diffused light which threw a feeble circular glim- mer upon the slimy pavement. The yellow glare fromtheshop-windowsstreamedoutintothesteamy, vaporous air, and threw a murky, shifting radiance across the crowded thoroughfare. There was, to my mind,somethingeerieandghost-likeintheendless processionoffaceswhichflittedacrossthesenarrow barsoflight,—sadfacesandglad,haggardandmerry.</s>Likeallhumankind,theyflittedfromthegloominto the light, and so back into the gloom once more. I am not subject to impressions, but the dull, heavy evening, with the strange business upon which we were engaged, combined to make me nervous and depressed. IcouldseefromMissMorstan’smanner thatshewassufferingfromthesamefeeling. Holmes alonecouldrisesuperiortopettyinfluences. Heheld hisopennote-bookuponhisknee,andfromtimeto time he jotted down figures and memoranda in the lightofhispocket-lantern.</s>At the Lyceum Theatre the crowds were already thick at the side-entrances. In front a continuous stream of hansoms and four-wheelers were rattling up, discharging their cargoes of shirt-fronted men andbeshawled,bediamondedwomen. Wehadhardly reached the third pillar, which was our rendezvous, beforeasmall,dark,briskmaninthedressofacoach- manaccostedus.</s>“Are you the parties who come with Miss Morstan?”heasked.</s>“IamMissMorstan,andthesetwogentlemenare myfriends,”saidshe.</s>He bent a pair of wonderfully penetrating and questioningeyesuponus. “Youwillexcuseme,miss,” hesaidwithacertaindoggedmanner,“butIwasto ask you to give me your word that neither of your companionsisapolice-officer.” “Igiveyoumywordonthat,”sheanswered.</s>Hegaveashrillwhistle,onwhichastreetArabled acrossafour-wheelerandopenedthedoor. Theman whohadaddressedusmountedtothebox,whilewe tookourplacesinside. Wehadhardlydonesobefore the driver whipped up his horse, and we plunged awayatafuriouspacethroughthefoggystreets.</s>Thesituationwasacuriousone. Weweredriving toanunknownplace,onanunknownerrand. Yetour invitationwaseitheracompletehoax,—whichwasan inconceivablehypothesis,—orelsewehadgoodrea- sontothinkthatimportantissuesmighthangupon our journey. Miss Morstan’s demeanor was as res- olute and collected as ever. I endeavored to cheer and amuse her by reminiscences of my adventures inAfghanistan;but,totellthetruth,Iwasmyselfso excitedatoursituationandsocuriousastoourdesti- nationthatmystorieswereslightlyinvolved. Tothis dayshedeclaresthatItoldheronemovinganecdote astohowamusketlookedintomytentatthedeadof night,andhowIfiredadouble-barrelledtigercubat it. AtfirstIhadsomeideaastothedirectioninwhich we were driving; but soon, what with our pace, the fog,andmyownlimitedknowledgeofLondon,Ilost mybearings,andknewnothing,savethatweseemed to be going a very long way. Sherlock Holmes was never at fault, however, and he muttered the names asthecabrattledthroughsquaresandinandoutby tortuousby-streets.</s>“RochesterRow,”saidhe. “NowVincentSquare.</s>NowwecomeoutontheVauxhallBridgeRoad. We are making for the Surrey side, apparently. Yes, I thoughtso. Nowweareonthebridge. Youcancatch glimpsesoftheriver.” We did indeed bet a fleeting view of a stretch of theThameswiththelampsshininguponthebroad, silent water; but our cab dashed on, and was soon involvedinalabyrinthofstreetsupontheotherside.</s>“WordsworthRoad,”saidmycompanion. “Priory Road. LarkHallLane. StockwellPlace. RobertStreet.</s>ColdHarborLane. Ourquestdoesnotappeartotake ustoveryfashionableregions.” We had, indeed, reached a questionable and for- bidding neighborhood. Long lines of dull brick houses were only relieved by the coarse glare and tawdrybrilliancyofpublichousesatthecorner. Then camerowsoftwo-storiedvillaseachwithafrontingof miniaturegarden,andthenagaininterminablelines ofnewstaringbrickbuildings,—themonstertentacles whichthegiantcitywasthrowingoutintothecountry.</s>At last the cab drew up at the third house in a new terrace. Noneoftheotherhouseswereinhabited,and that at which we stopped was as dark as its neigh- bors,saveforasingleglimmerinthekitchenwindow.</s>On our knocking, however, the door was instantly thrown open by a Hindoo servant clad in a yellow turban,whiteloose-fittingclothes,andayellowsash.</s>There was something strangely incongruous in this Orientalfigureframedinthecommonplacedoor-way ofathird-ratesuburbandwelling-house.</s>“The Sahib awaits you,” said he, and even as he spoketherecameahighpipingvoicefromsomein- nerroom. “Showthemintome,khitmutgar,”itcried.</s>“Showthemstraightintome.”CHAP he tory of the T S WefollowedtheIndiandownasordidandcom- mon passage, ill lit and worse furnished, until he cametoadoorupontheright,whichhethrewopen.</s>Ablazeofyellowlightstreamedoutuponus,andin thecentreoftheglaretherestoodasmallmanwith a very high head, a bristle of red hair all round the fringeofit,andabald,shiningscalpwhichshotout from among it like a mountain-peak from fir-trees.</s>He writhed his hands together as he stood, and his featureswereinaperpetualjerk, nowsmiling, now scowling,butneverforaninstantinrepose. Nature hadgivenhimapendulouslip,andatoovisibleline ofyellowandirregularteeth,whichhestrovefeebly to conceal by constantly passing his hand over the lower part ofhis face. In spiteof his obtrusivebald- ness,hegavetheimpressionofyouth. Inpointoffact hehadjustturnedhisthirtiethyear.</s>“Yourservant,MissMorstan,”hekeptrepeating, inathin,highvoice. “Yourservant,gentlemen. Pray stepintomylittlesanctum. Asmallplace,miss,but furnished to my own liking. An oasis of art in the howlingdesertofSouthLondon.” Wewereallastonishedbytheappearanceofthe apartment into which he invited us. In that sorry house it looked as out of place as a diamond of the firstwaterinasettingofbrass. Therichestandglossi- estofcurtainsandtapestriesdrapedthewalls,looped backhereandtheretoexposesomerichly-mounted painting or Oriental vase. The carpet was of amber- and-black, so soft and so thick that the foot sank pleasantly into it, as into a bed of moss. Two great tiger-skinsthrownathwartitincreasedthesuggestion ofEasternluxury,asdidahugehookahwhichstood uponamatinthecorner. Alampinthefashionofa silverdovewashungfromanalmostinvisiblegolden wireinthecentreoftheroom. Asitburneditfilled theairwithasubtleandaromaticodor.</s>“Mr. Thaddeus Sholto,” said the little man, still jerkingandsmiling. “Thatismyname. YouareMiss Morstan,ofcourse. Andthesegentlemen—” “ThisisMr.SherlockHolmes,andthisisDr.Wat- son.” “Adoctor,eh?”criedhe,muchexcited. “Haveyou yourstethoscope? MightIaskyou—wouldyouhave the kindness? I have grave doubts as to my mitral valve,ifyouwouldbesoverygood. TheaorticImay relyupon,butIshouldvalueyouropinionuponthe mitral.” TER IV.</s>ald eaded an B -H M I listened to his heart, as requested, but was un- abletofindanythingamiss,saveindeedthathewas inanecstasyoffear,forheshiveredfromheadtofoot.</s>“Itappearstobenormal,”Isaid. “Youhavenocause foruneasiness.” “You will excuse my anxiety, Miss Morstan,” he remarked, airily. “I am a great sufferer, and I have longhadsuspicionsastothatvalve. Iamdelighted tohearthattheyareunwarranted. Hadyourfather, MissMorstan,refrainedfromthrowingastrainupon hisheart,hemighthavebeenalivenow.” I could have struck the man across the face, so hotwasIatthiscallousandoff-handreferencetoso delicate a matter. Miss Morstan sat down, and her facegrewwhitetothelips. “Iknewinmyheartthat hewasdead,”saidshe.</s>“Icangiveyoueveryinformation,”saidhe,“and, what is more, I can do you justice; and I will, too, whateverBrotherBartholomewmaysay. Iamsoglad tohaveyourfriendshere,notonlyasanescorttoyou, but also as witnesses to what I am about to do and say. ThethreeofuscanshowaboldfronttoBrother Bartholomew. But let us have no outsiders,—no po- liceorofficials. Wecansettleeverythingsatisfactorily among ourselves, without any interference. Noth- ing would annoy Brother Bartholomew more than any publicity.” He sat down upon a low settee and blinkedatusinquiringlywithhisweak,wateryblue eyes.</s>“Formypart,”saidHolmes,“whateveryoumay choosetosaywillgonofurther.” Inoddedtoshowmyagreement.</s>“That is well! That is well!” said he. “May I offer you a glass of Chianti, Miss Morstan? Or of Tokay? I keep no other wines. Shall I open a flask? No? Well, then, I trust that you have no objection to tobacco-smoke, to the mild balsamic odor of the Easterntobacco. Iamalittlenervous,andIfindmy hookah an invaluable sedative.” He applied a taper to the great bowl, and the smoke bubbled merrily throughtherose-water. Wesatallthreeinasemicir- cle,withourheadsadvanced,andourchinsuponour hands,whilethestrange,jerkylittlefellow,withhis high,shininghead,puffeduneasilyinthecentre.</s>“When I first determined to make this commu- nication to you,” said he, “I might have given you my address, but I feared that you might disregard myrequestandbringunpleasantpeoplewithyou. I tooktheliberty,therefore,ofmakinganappointmentin such a way that my man Williams might be able to see you first. I have complete confidence in his discretion,andhehadorders,ifheweredissatisfied, toproceednofurtherinthematter. Youwillexcuse theseprecautions,butIamamanofsomewhatretir- ing,andImightevensayrefined,tastes,andthereis nothingmoreunaestheticthanapoliceman. Ihavea naturalshrinkingfromallformsofroughmaterialism.</s>Iseldomcomeincontactwiththeroughcrowd. Ilive, as you see, with some little atmosphere of elegance aroundme. Imaycallmyselfapatronofthearts. It is my weakness. The landscape is a genuine Corot, and, though a connoisseur might perhaps throw a doubt upon that Salvator Rosa, there cannot be the leastquestionabouttheBouguereau. Iampartialto themodernFrenchschool.” “You will excuse me, Mr. Sholto,” said Miss Morstan, “but I am here at your request to learn somethingwhichyoudesiretotellme. Itisverylate, and I should desire the interview to be as short as possible.” “Atthebestitmusttakesometime,”heanswered; “for we shall certainly have to go to Norwood and see Brother Bartholomew. We shall all go and try if wecangetthebetterofBrotherBartholomew. Heis veryangrywithmefortakingthecoursewhichhas seemedrighttome. Ihadquitehighwordswithhim lastnight. Youcannotimaginewhataterriblefellow heiswhenheisangry.” “IfwearetogotoNorwooditwouldperhapsbe aswelltostartatonce,”Iventuredtoremark.</s>He laughed until his ears were quite red. “That would hardly do,” he cried. “I don’t know what he wouldsayifIbroughtyouinthatsuddenway. No,I mustprepareyoubyshowingyouhowweallstand to each other. In the first place, I must tell you that there are several points in the story of which I am myselfignorant. Icanonlylaythefactsbeforeyouas farasIknowthemmyself.</s>“Myfatherwas,asyoumayhaveguessed,Major JohnSholto,onceoftheIndianarmy. Heretiredsome eleven years ago, and came to live at Pondicherry Lodge in Upper Norwood. He had prospered in In- dia,andbroughtbackwithhimaconsiderablesum of money, a large collection of valuable curiosities, andastaffofnativeservants. Withtheseadvantages heboughthimselfahouse,andlivedingreatluxury.</s>My twin-brother Bartholomew and I were the only children.</s>“I very well remember the sensation which was causedbythedisappearanceofCaptainMorstan. We readthedetailsinthepapers,and,knowingthathe had been a friend of our father’s, we discussed the case freely in his presence. He used to join in our speculationsastowhatcouldhavehappened. Never foraninstantdidwesuspectthathehadthewhole secrethiddeninhisownbreast,—thatofallmenhe aloneknewthefateofArthurMorstan.</s>“Wedidknow,however,thatsomemystery—some positive danger—overhung our father. He was very fearful of going out alone, and he always employed two prize-fighters to act as porters at Pondicherry Lodge. Williams, who drove you to-night, was one ofthem. Hewasoncelight-weightchampionofEng- land. Ourfatherwouldnevertelluswhatitwashe feared, but he had a most marked aversion to men withwoodenlegs. Ononeoccasionheactuallyfired hisrevolveratawooden-leggedman,whoprovedto be a harmless tradesman canvassing for orders. We had to pay a large sum to hush the matter up. My brotherandIusedtothinkthisamerewhimofmy father’s, but events have since led us to change our opinion.</s>“Early in 1882 my father received a letter from India which was a great shock to him. He nearly faintedatthebreakfast-tablewhenheopenedit,and fromthatdayhesickenedtohisdeath. Whatwasin theletterwecouldneverdiscover,butIcouldseeas hehelditthatitwasshortandwritteninascrawling hand. He had suffered for years from an enlarged spleen, but he now became rapidly worse, and to- wardstheendofAprilwewereinformedthathewas beyond all hope, and that he wished to make a last communicationtous.</s>“Whenweenteredhisroomhewasproppedup withpillowsandbreathingheavily. Hebesoughtus tolockthedoorandtocomeuponeithersideofthe bed. Then,graspingourhands,hemadearemarkable statementtous,inavoicewhichwasbrokenasmuch byemotionasby pain. Ishalltryandgiveittoyou inhisownverywords.</s>“‘I have only one thing,’ he said, ‘which weighs uponmymindatthissuprememoment. Itismytreat- ment of poor Morstan’s orphan. The cursed greed which has been my besetting sin through life has withheldfromherthetreasure,halfatleastofwhich shouldhavebeenhers. AndyetIhavemadenouse ofitmyself,—soblindandfoolishathingisavarice.</s>Themerefeelingofpossessionhasbeensodeartome thatIcouldnotbeartoshareitwithanother. Seethat chapletdippedwithpearlsbesidethequinine-bottle.</s>EventhatIcouldnotbeartopartwith,althoughIhad gotitoutwiththedesignofsendingittoher. You,mysons, will give her a fair share of the Agra treasure.</s>Butsendhernothing—noteventhechaplet—untilI amgone. Afterall,menhavebeenasbadasthisand haverecovered.</s>“‘IwilltellyouhowMorstandied,’hecontinued.</s>‘Hehadsufferedforyearsfromaweakheart,buthe concealed it from every one. I alone knew it. When inIndia,heandI,througharemarkablechainofcir- cumstances, came into possession of a considerable treasure. I brought it over to England, and on the nightofMorstan’sarrivalhecamestraightoverhere toclaimhisshare. Hewalkedoverfromthestation, andwasadmittedbymyfaithfulLalChowdar,whois nowdead. MorstanandIhadadifferenceofopinion as to the division of the treasure, and we came to heatedwords. Morstanhadsprungoutofhischairin aparoxysmofanger,whenhesuddenlypressedhis handtohisside,hisfaceturnedaduskyhue,andhe fellbackwards,cuttinghisheadagainstthecornerof thetreasure-chest. WhenIstoopedoverhimIfound, tomyhorror,thathewasdead.</s>“‘ForalongtimeIsathalfdistracted,wondering what I should do. My first impulse was, of course, to call for assistance; but I could not but recognize thattherewaseverychancethatIwouldbeaccused ofhismurder. Hisdeathatthemomentofaquarrel, andthegashinhishead,wouldbeblackagainstme.</s>Again,anofficialinquirycouldnotbemadewithout bringing out some facts about the treasure, which I wasparticularlyanxioustokeepsecret. Hehadtold methatnosouluponearthknewwherehehadgone.</s>There seemed to be no necessity why any soul ever shouldknow.</s>“‘Iwasstillponderingoverthematter,when,look- ingup,Isawmyservant,LalChowdar,inthedoor- way. He stole in and bolted the door behind him.</s>“Do not fear, Sahib,” he said. “No one need know thatyouhavekilledhim. Letushidehimaway,and who is the wiser?” “I did not kill him,” said I. Lal Chowdarshookhisheadandsmiled. “Ihearditall, Sahib,” said he. “I heard you quarrel, and I heard the blow. But my lips are sealed. All are asleep in thehouse. Letusputhimawaytogether.”Thatwas enoughtodecidemet. Ifmyownservantcouldnot believe my innocence, how could I hope to make it goodbeforetwelvefoolishtradesmeninajury-box? Lal Chowdar and I disposed of the body that night, and within a few days the London papers were full ofthemysteriousdisappearanceofCaptainMorstan.</s>You will see from what I say that I can hardly be blamed in the matter. My fault lies in the fact that weconcealednotonlythebody,butalsothetreasure, andthatIhaveclungtoMorstan’sshareaswellasto my own. I wish you, therefore, to make restitution.</s>Put your ears down to my mouth. The treasure is hidden in—At this instant a horrible change came over his expression; his eyes stared wildly, his jaw dropped,andheyelled,inavoicewhichIcannever forget, ‘Keep him out! For Christ’s sake keep him out’! Webothstaredroundatthewindowbehindus uponwhichhisgazewasfixed. Afacewaslookingin atusoutofthedarkness. Wecouldseethewhitening ofthenosewhereitwaspressedagainsttheglass. It wasabearded,hairyface,withwildcrueleyesandan expressionofconcentratedmalevolence. Mybrother andIrushedtowardsthewindow,butthemanwas gone. Whenwereturnedtomyfatherhisheadhad droppedandhispulsehadceasedtobeat.</s>“Wesearchedthegardenthatnight,butfoundno signoftheintruder,savethatjustunderthewindow asinglefootmarkwasvisibleintheflower-bed. But for that one trace, we might have thought that our imaginations had conjured up that wild, fierce face.</s>Wesoon, however, had anotherand amore striking proofthatthereweresecretagenciesatworkallround us. Thewindowofmyfather’sroomwasfoundopen in the morning, his cupboards and boxes had been rifled, and upon his chest was fixed a torn piece of paper,withthewords‘Thesignofthefour’scrawled acrossit. Whatthephrasemeant,orwhooursecret visitormayhavebeen,weneverknew. Asfaraswe can judge, none of my father’s property had been actually stolen, though everything had been turned out. MybrotherandInaturallyassociatedthispecu- liarincidentwiththefearwhichhauntedmyfather during his life; but it is still a complete mystery to us.” Thelittlemanstoppedtorelighthishookahand puffedthoughtfullyforafewmoments. Wehadallsat absorbed,listeningtohisextraordinarynarrative. At theshortaccountofherfather’sdeathMissMorstan hadturneddeadlywhite,andforamomentIfeared that she was about to faint. She rallied however, on drinkingaglassofwaterwhichIquietlypouredout for her from a Venetian carafe upon the side-table.</s>Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair with an abstracted expression and the lids drawn low over his glittering eyes. As I glanced at him I could not but think how on that very day he had complained bitterlyofthecommonplacenessoflife. Hereatleast was a problem which would tax his sagacity to the utmost. Mr.ThaddeusSholtolookedfromonetothe otherofuswithanobviousprideattheeffectwhich hisstoryhadproduced,andthencontinuedbetweenthepuffsofhisovergrownpipe.</s>“My brother and I,” said he, “were, as you may imagine, much excited as to the treasure which my fatherhadspokenof. Forweeksandformonthswe duganddelvedineverypartofthegarden,without discovering its whereabouts. It was maddening to thinkthatthehiding-placewasonhisverylipsatthe momentthathedied. Wecouldjudgethesplendorof themissingrichesbythechapletwhichhehadtaken out. OverthischapletmybrotherBartholomewandI hadsomelittlediscussion. Thepearlswereevidently ofgreatvalue,andhewasaversetopartwiththem, for,betweenfriends,mybrotherwashimselfalittle inclined to my father’s fault. He thought, too, that if we parted with the chaplet it might give rise to gossipandfinallybringusintotrouble. Itwasallthat I could do to persuade him to let me find out Miss Morstan’saddressandsendheradetachedpearlat fixed intervals, so that at least she might never feel destitute.” “It was a kindly thought,” said our companion, earnestly. “Itwasextremelygoodofyou.” Thelittlemanwavedhishanddeprecatingly. “We were your trustees,” he said. ”That was the view whichItookofit,thoughBrotherBartholomewcould not altogether see it in that light. We had plenty of money ourselves. I desired no more. Besides, it would have been such bad taste to have treated a young lady in so scurvy a fashion. ‘Le mauvais gouˆt me`ne au crime.’ The French have a very neat way of putting these things. Our difference of opinion on thissubjectwentsofarthatIthoughtitbesttosetup roomsformyself: soIleftPondicherryLodge,taking theoldkhitmutgarandWilliamswithme. Yesterday, however,Ilearnthataneventofextremeimportance has occurred. The treasure has been discovered. I instantly communicated with Miss Morstan, and it only remains for us to drive out to Norwood and demandourshare. Iexplainedmyviewslastnightto BrotherBartholomew: soweshallbeexpected,ifnot welcome,visitors.” Mr. Thaddeus Sholto ceased, and sat twitching onhisluxurioussettee. Weallremainedsilent,with ourthoughtsuponthenewdevelopmentwhichthe mysteriousbusinesshadtaken. Holmeswasthefirst tospringtohisfeet.</s>“Youhavedonewell,sir,fromfirsttolast,”saidhe.</s>“Itispossiblethatwemaybeabletomakeyousome smallreturnbythrowingsomelightuponthatwhich is still dark to you. But, as Miss Morstan remarked just now, it is late, and we had best put the matter throughwithoutdelay.” Ournewacquaintanceverydeliberatelycoiledup thetubeofhishookah,andproducedfrombehinda curtainaverylongbefroggedtopcoatwithAstrakhan collarandcuffs. Thishebuttonedtightlyup,inspite oftheextremeclosenessofthenight,andfinishedhis attire by putting on a rabbit-skin cap with hanging lappets which covered the ears, so that no part of himwasvisiblesavehismobileandpeakyface. “My health is somewhat fragile,” he remarked, as he led thewaydownthepassage. “Iamcompelledtobea valetudinarian.” Our cab was awaiting us outside, and our pro- gramme was evidently prearranged, for the driver startedoffatonceatarapidpace. ThaddeusSholto talked incessantly, in a voice which rose high above therattleofthewheels.</s>“Bartholomewisacleverfellow,”saidhe. “How do you think he found out where the treasure was? Hehadcometotheconclusionthatitwassomewhere indoors: soheworkedoutallthecubicspaceofthe house,andmademeasurementseverywhere,sothat notoneinchshouldbeunaccountedfor. Amongother things,hefoundthattheheightofthebuildingwas seventy-fourfeet,butonaddingtogethertheheights ofalltheseparaterooms,andmakingeveryallowance for the space between, which he ascertained by bor- ings,hecouldnotbringthetotaltomorethanseventy feet. There were four feet unaccounted for. These couldonlybeatthetopofthebuilding. Heknocked ahole,therefore,inthelath-and-plasterceilingofthe highestroom,andthere,sureenough,hecameupon anotherlittlegarretaboveit,whichhadbeensealed upandwasknowntonoone. Inthecentrestoodthe treasure-chest,restingupontworafters. Helowered it through the hole, and there it lies. He computes thevalueofthejewelsatnotlessthanhalfamillion sterling.” Atthementionofthisgiganticsumweallstared at one another open-eyed. Miss Morstan, could we secure her rights, would change from a needy gov- ernesstotherichestheiressinEngland. Surelyitwas the place of a loyal friend to rejoice at such news; yetIamashamedtosaythatselfishnesstookmeby the soul, and that my heart turned as heavy as lead withinme. Istammeredoutsomefewhaltingwords of congratulation, and then sat downcast, with my headdrooped,deaftothebabbleofournewacquain- tance. He was clearly a confirmed hypochondriac, and I was dreamily conscious that he was pouring forth interminable trains of symptoms, and implor- inginformation asto thecomposition andaction of innumerablequacknostrums,someofwhichheboreabout in a leather case in his pocket. I trust that he maynotrememberanyoftheanswerswhichIgave himthatnight. Holmesdeclaresthatheoverheardme cautionhimagainstthegreatdangeroftakingmore than two drops of castor oil, while I recommended strychnineinlargedosesasasedative. Howeverthat CHAP he ragedy of T T P It was nearly eleven o’clock when we reached this final stage of our night’s adventures. We had leftthedampfogofthegreatcitybehindus,andthe night was fairly fine. A warm wind blew from the westward,andheavycloudsmovedslowlyacrossthe sky,withhalfamoonpeepingoccasionallythrough therifts. Itwasclearenoughtoseeforsomedistance, butThaddeusSholtotookdownoneoftheside-lamps from the carriage to give us a better light upon our way.</s>PondicherryLodgestoodinitsowngrounds,and was girt round with a very high stone wall topped with broken glass. A single narrow iron-clamped doorformedtheonlymeansofentrance. Onthisour guideknockedwithapeculiarpostman-likerat-tat.</s>“Whoisthere?”criedagruffvoicefromwithin.</s>“ItisI,McMurdo. Yousurelyknowmyknockby thistime.” Therewasagrumblingsoundandaclankingand jarringofkeys. Thedoorswungheavilyback,anda short,deep-chestedmanstoodintheopening,with theyellowlightofthelanternshininguponhispro- trudedfaceandtwinklingdistrustfuleyes.</s>“Thatyou,Mr.Thaddeus? Butwhoaretheothers? Ihadnoordersaboutthemfromthemaster.” “No, McMurdo? You surprise me! I told my brotherlastnightthatIshouldbringsomefriends.</s>“He ain’t been out o’ his room to-day, Mr. Thad- deus,andIhavenoorders. Youknowverywellthat Imuststicktoregulations. Icanletyouin,butyour friendsmustjuststopwheretheyare.” Thiswasanunexpectedobstacle. ThaddeusSholto lookedabouthiminaperplexedandhelplessmanner.</s>maybe,Iwascertainlyrelievedwhenourcabpulled up with a jerk and the coachman sprang down to openthedoor.</s>“This,MissMorstan,isPondicherryLodge,”said Mr.ThaddeusSholto,ashehandedherout.</s>PTER V.</s>ondicherry odge L “This is too bad of you, McMurdo!” he said. “If I guaranteethem,thatisenoughforyou. Thereisthe younglady,too. Shecannotwaitonthepublicroad atthishour.” “Very sorry, Mr. Thaddeus,” said the porter, in- exorably. “Folk may be friends o’ yours, and yet no friends o’ the master’s. He pays me well to do my duty,andmydutyI’lldo. Idon’tknownoneo’your friends.” “Oh, yes you do, McMurdo,” cried Sherlock Holmes, genially. “I don’t think you can have for- gotten me. Don’t you remember the amateur who fought three rounds with you at Alison’s rooms on thenightofyourbenefitfouryearsback?” “Not Mr. Sherlock Holmes!” roared the prize- fighter. “God’s truth! how could I have mistook you? If instead o’ standin’ there so quiet you had juststeppedupandgivenmethatcross-hitofyours underthejaw,I’dha’knownyouwithoutaquestion.</s>Ah,you’reonethathaswastedyourgifts,youhave! You might have aimed high, if you had joined the fancy.” “Yousee,Watson,ifallelsefailsmeIhavestillone ofthescientificprofessionsopentome,”saidHolmes, laughing. “Ourfriendwon’tkeepusoutinthecold now,Iamsure.” “In you come, sir, in you come,—you and your friends,” he answered. “Very sorry, Mr. Thaddeus, but orders are very strict. Had to be certain of your friendsbeforeIletthemin.” Inside, a gravel path wound through desolate grounds to a huge clump of a house, square and prosaic, all plunged in shadow save where a moon- beam struck one corner and glimmered in a garretwindow. Thevastsizeofthebuilding,withitsgloom anditsdeathlysilence,struckachilltotheheart. Even ThaddeusSholtoseemedillatease, andthelantern quiveredandrattledinhishand.</s>“I cannot understand it,” he said. “There must besomemistake. IdistinctlytoldBartholomewthat we should be here, and yet there is no light in his window. Idonotknowwhattomakeofit.” “Doeshealwaysguardthepremisesinthisway?” askedHolmes.</s>“Yes;hehasfollowedmyfather’scustom. Hewas the favorite son, you know, and I sometimes think thatmyfathermayhavetoldhimmorethanheever told me. That is Bartholomew’s window up there where the moonshine strikes. It is quite bright, but thereisnolightfromwithin,Ithink.” “None,” said Holmes. “But I see the glint of a lightinthatlittlewindowbesidethedoor.” “Ah,thatisthehousekeeper’sroom. Thatiswhere old Mrs. Bernstone sits. She can tell us all about it.</s>Butperhapsyouwouldnotmindwaitingherefora minute or two, for if we all go in together and she hasnowordofourcomingshemaybealarmed. But hush! whatisthat?” Heheldupthelantern,andhishandshookuntil thecirclesoflightflickeredandwaveredallroundus.</s>MissMorstanseizedmywrist,andweallstoodwith thumpinghearts,strainingourears. Fromthegreat black house there sounded through the silent night the saddest and most pitiful of sounds,—the shrill, brokenwhimperingofafrightenedwoman.</s>“It is Mrs. Bernstone,” said Sholto. “She is the onlywomaninthehouse. Waithere. Ishallbeback inamoment.”Hehurriedforthedoor,andknocked in his peculiar way. We could see a tall old woman admithim,andswaywithpleasureattheverysight ofhim.</s>“Oh, Mr. Thaddeus, sir, I am so glad you have come! I am so glad you have come, Mr. Thaddeus, sir!”Weheardherreiteratedrejoicingsuntilthedoor was closed and her voice died away into a muffled monotone.</s>Ourguidehadleftusthelantern. Holmesswung it slowly round, and peered keenly at the house, andatthegreatrubbish-heapswhichcumberedthe grounds. Miss Morstan and I stood together, and her hand was in mine. A wondrous subtle thing is love,forherewerewetwowhohadneverseeneach otherbeforethatday,betweenwhomnowordoreven lookofaffectionhadeverpassed,andyetnowinan hour of trouble our hands instinctively sought for each other. I have marvelled at it since, but at the time it seemed the most natural thing that I should goouttoherso,and,asshehasoftentoldme,there wasinheralsotheinstincttoturntomeforcomfort and protection. So we stood hand in hand, like two children,andtherewaspeaceinourheartsforallthe darkthingsthatsurroundedus.</s>“Whatastrangeplace!”shesaid,lookinground.</s>“ItlooksasthoughallthemolesinEnglandhad beenletlooseinit. Ihaveseensomethingofthesort onthesideofahillnearBallarat,wheretheprospec- torshadbeenatwork.” “Andfromthesamecause,”saidHolmes. “These are the traces of the treasure-seekers. You must re- member that they were six years looking for it. No wonderthatthegroundslooklikeagravel-pit.” Atthatmomentthedoorofthehouseburstopen, and Thaddeus Sholto came running out, with his handsthrownforwardandterrorinhiseyes.</s>“ThereissomethingamisswithBartholomew!”he cried. “Iamfrightened! Mynervescannotstandit.” He was, indeed, half blubbering with fear, and his twitchingfeeblefacepeepingoutfromthegreatAs- trakhancollarhadthehelplessappealingexpression ofaterrifiedchild.</s>“Comeintothehouse,”saidHolmes,inhiscrisp, firmway.</s>“Yes,do!”pleadedThaddeusSholto. “Ireallydo notfeelequaltogivingdirections.” Weallfollowedhimintothehousekeeper’sroom, which stood upon the left-hand side of the passage.</s>The old woman was pacing up and down with a scaredlookandrestlesspickingfingers,butthesight of Miss Morstan appeared to have a soothing effect uponher.</s>“Godblessyoursweetcalmface!”shecried,with an hysterical sob. “It does me good to see you. Oh, butIhavebeensorelytriedthisday!” Ourcompanionpattedherthin,work-wornhand, andmurmuredsomefewwordsofkindlywomanly comfortwhichbroughtthecolorbackintotheothers bloodlesscheeks.</s>“Master has locked himself in and will now an- swer me,” she explained. “All day I have waited to hearfromhim,forheoftenlikestobealone;butan houragoIfearedthatsomethingwasamiss,soIwent up and peeped through the key-hole. You must go up, Mr. Thaddeus,—you must go up and look for yourself. IhaveseenMr.BartholomewSholtoinjoy andinsorrowfortenlongyears,butIneversawhim withsuchafaceonhimasthat.”SherlockHolmestookthelampandledtheway, for Thaddeus Sholto’s teeth were chattering in his head. SoshakenwashethatIhadtopassmyhand underhisarmaswewentupthestairs,forhisknees were trembling under him. Twice as we ascended Holmeswhippedhislensoutofhispocketandcare- fully examined marks which appeared to me to be mereshapelesssmudgesofdustuponthecocoa-nut matting which served as a stair-carpet. He walked slowlyfromsteptostep,holdingthelamp,andshoot- ingkeenglancestorightandleft. MissMorstanhad remainedbehindwiththefrightenedhousekeeper.</s>The third flight of stairs ended in a straight pas- sage of some length, with a great picture in Indian tapestry upon the right of it and three doors upon theleft. Holmesadvancedalongitinthesameslow andmethodicalway,whilewekeptcloseathisheels, with our long black shadows streaming backwards downthecorridor. Thethirddoorwasthatwhichwe wereseeking. Holmesknockedwithoutreceivingany answer, and then tried to turn the handle and force it open. It was locked on the inside, however, and byabroadandpowerfulbolt,aswecouldseewhen wesetourlampupagainstit. Thekeybeingturned, however, the hole was not entirely closed. Sherlock Holmesbentdowntoit,andinstantlyroseagainwith asharpintakingofthebreath.</s>“Thereissomethingdevilishinthis,Watson,”said he, more moved than I had ever before seen him.</s>“Whatdoyoumakeofit?” Istoopedtothehole,andrecoiledinhorror. Moon- lightwasstreamingintotheroom,anditwasbright with a vague and shifty radiance. Looking straight at me, and suspended, as it were, in the air, for all beneathwasinshadow,therehungaface,—thevery faceofourcompanionThaddeus. Therewasthesame high, shining head, the same circular bristle of red hair, the same bloodless countenance. The features were set, however, in a horrible smile, a fixed and unnaturalgrin,whichinthatstillandmoonlitroom wasmorejarringtothenervesthananyscowlorcon- tortion. Solikewasthefacetothatofourlittlefriend thatIlookedroundathimtomakesurethathewas indeedwithus. ThenIrecalledtomindthathehad mentionedtousthathisbrotherandheweretwins.</s>“Thisisterrible!”IsaidtoHolmes. “Whatistobe done?” “Thedoormustcomedown,”heanswered,and, springing against it, he put all his weight upon the lock. It creaked and groaned, but did not yield. To- getherweflungourselvesuponitoncemore,andthis timeitgavewaywithasuddensnap,andwefound ourselveswithinBartholomewSholto’schamber.</s>It appeared to have been fitted up as a chemical laboratory. A double line of glass-stoppered bottles wasdrawnupuponthewalloppositethedoor,and thetablewaslitteredoverwithBunsenburners,test- tubes,andretorts. Inthecornersstoodcarboysofacid inwickerbaskets. Oneoftheseappearedtoleakorto havebeenbroken,forastreamofdark-coloredliquid hadtrickledoutfromit,andtheairwasheavywitha peculiarlypungent,tar-likeodor. Asetofstepsstood atonesideoftheroom,inthemidstofalitteroflath andplaster,andabovethemtherewasanopeningin the ceiling large enough for a man to pass through.</s>Atthefootofthestepsalongcoilofropewasthrown carelesslytogether.</s>Bythetable,inawoodenarm-chair,themasterof thehousewasseatedallinaheap,withhisheadsunk upon his left shoulder, and that ghastly, inscrutable smile upon his face. He was stiff and cold, and had clearlybeendeadmanyhours. Itseemedtomethat not only his features but all his limbs were twisted andturnedinthemostfantasticfashion. Byhishand upon the table there lay a peculiar instrument,—a brown, close-grained stick, with a stone head like a hammer,rudelylashedonwithcoarsetwine. Beside it was a torn sheet of note-paper with some words scrawled upon it. Holmes glanced at it, and then handedittome.</s>“Yousee,”hesaid,withasignificantraisingofthe eyebrows.</s>In the light of the lantern I read, with a thrill of horror,“Thesignofthefour.” “InGod’sname,whatdoesitallmean?”Iasked.</s>“It means murder,” said he, stooping over the deadman. “Ah,Iexpectedit. Lookhere!”Hepointed to what looked like a long, dark thorn stuck in the skinjustabovetheear.</s>“Itlookslikeathorn,”saidI.</s>“Itisathorn. Youmaypickitout. Butbecareful, foritispoisoned.” Itookitupbetweenmyfingerandthumb. Itcame awayfromtheskinsoreadilythathardlyanymark was left behind. One tiny speck of blood showed wherethepuncturehadbeen.</s>“Thisisallaninsolublemysterytome,”saidI.“It growsdarkerinsteadofclearer.” “On the contrary,” he answered, “it clears every instant. Ionlyrequireafewmissinglinkstohavean entirelyconnectedcase.”We had almost forgotten our companion’s pres- encesinceweenteredthechamber. Hewasstillstand- inginthedoor-way,theverypictureofterror,wring- ing his hands and moaning to himself. Suddenly, however,hebrokeoutintoasharp,querulouscry.</s>“Thetreasureisgone!”hesaid. “Theyhaverobbed himofthetreasure! Thereistheholethroughwhich we lowered it. I helped him to do it! I was the last personwhosawhim! Ilefthimherelastnight,andI heardhimlockthedoorasIcamedown-stairs.” “Whattimewasthat?” “Itwasteno’clock. Andnowheisdead,andthe police will be called in, and I shall be suspected of CHAP herlock olmes i S H G “Now,Watson,”saidHolmes,rubbinghishands, “we have half an hour to ourselves. Let us make gooduseofit. Mycaseis,asIhavetoldyou,almost complete; but we must not err on the side of over- confidence. Simpleasthecaseseemsnow,theremay besomethingdeeperunderlyingit.” “Simple!”Iejaculated.</s>“Surely,” said he, with something of the air of a clinicalprofessorexpoundingtohisclass. “Justsitin the corner there, that your footprints may not com- plicatematters. Nowtowork! Inthefirstplace,how didthesefolkcome,andhowdidtheygo? Thedoor hasnotbeenopenedsincelastnight. Howofthewin- dow?”Hecarriedthelampacrosstoit,mutteringhis observationsaloudthewhile,butaddressingthemto himself rather than to me. “Window is snibbed on theinnerside. Frameworkissolid. Nohingesatthe side. Letusopenit. Nowater-pipenear. Roofquite outofreach. Yetamanhasmountedbythewindow.</s>Itrainedalittlelastnight. Hereistheprintofafoot inmoulduponthesill. Andhereisacircularmuddy mark,andhereagainuponthefloor,andhereagain by the table. See here, Watson! This is really a very prettydemonstration.” Ilookedattheround,well-definedmuddydiscs.</s>“Thisisnotafootmark,”saidI.</s>havinghadahandinit. Oh,yes,IamsureIshall. But youdon’tthinkso,gentlemen? Surelyyoudon’tthink that it was I? Is it likely that I would have brought youhereifitwereI?Oh,dear! oh,dear! Iknowthat Ishallgomad!”Hejerkedhisarmsandstampedhis feetinakindofconvulsivefrenzy.</s>“You have no reason for fear, Mr. Sholto,” said Holmes,kindly,puttinghishanduponhisshoulder.</s>“Take my advice, and drive down to the station to reportthismattertothepolice. Offertoassistthem ineveryway. Weshallwaithereuntilyourreturn.” Thelittlemanobeyedinahalf-stupefiedfashion, and we heard him stumbling down the stairs in the dark.</s>TER VI.</s>ves a emonstration D “It is something much more valuable to us. It is the impression of a wooden stump. You see here on the sill is the boot-mark, a heavy boot with the broad metal heel, and beside it is the mark of the timber-toe.” “Itisthewooden-leggedman.” “Quite so. But there has been some one else,—a veryableandefficientally. Couldyouscalethatwall, doctor?” Ilookedoutoftheopenwindow. Themoonstill shone brightly on that angle of the house. We were a good sixty feet from the ground, and, look where I would, I could see no foothold, nor as much as a creviceinthebrick-work.</s>“Itisabsolutelyimpossible,”Ianswered.</s>“Withoutaiditisso. Butsupposeyouhadafriend upherewholoweredyouthisgoodstoutropewhich Iseeinthecorner,securingoneendofittothisgreat hookinthewall. Then,Ithink,ifyouwereanactive man,youmightswarmup,woodenlegandall. You would depart, of course, in the same fashion, and yourallywoulddrawuptherope,untieitfromthe hook, shut the window, snib it on the inside, and get away in the way that he originally came. As a minorpointitmaybenoted,”hecontinued,fingering the rope, “that our wooden-legged friend, though afairclimber,wasnotaprofessionalsailor. Hishands werefarfromhorny. Mylensdisclosesmorethanone blood-mark, especially towards the end of the rope, fromwhichIgatherthatheslippeddownwithsuch velocitythathetooktheskinoffhishand.” “This is all very well,” said I, “but the thing be- comesmoreunintelligiblethanever. Howaboutthis mysteriousally? Howcameheintotheroom?” “Yes, the ally!” repeated Holmes, pensively.</s>“There are features of interest about this ally. He lifts the case from the regions of the commonplace.</s>I fancy that this ally breaks fresh ground in the an- nalsofcrimeinthiscountry,—thoughparallelcases suggest themselves from India, and, if my memory servesme,fromSenegambia.” “How came he, then?” I reiterated. “The door is locked, the window is inaccessible. Was it through thechimney?” “The grate is much too small,” he answered. “I hadalreadyconsideredthatpossibility.” “Howthen?”Ipersisted.</s>“Youwillnotapplymyprecept,”hesaid,shaking his head. “How often have I said to you that when youhaveeliminatedtheimpossiblewhateverremains, howeverimprobable,mustbethetruth? Weknowthat hedidnotcomethroughthedoor,thewindow,orthe chimney. Wealsoknowthathecouldnothavebeen concealed in the room, as there is no concealment possible. Whence,then,didhecome?” “Hecamethroughtheholeintheroof,”Icried.</s>“Of course he did. He must have done so. If you will have the kindness to hold the lamp for me,weshallnowextendourresearchestotheroom above,—the secret room in which the treasure was found.” Hemountedthesteps,and,seizingarafterwithei- therhand,heswunghimselfupintothegarret. Then, lyingonhisface,hereacheddownforthelampand helditwhileIfollowedhim.</s>The chamber in which we found ourselves was about ten feet one way and six the other. The floor wasformedbytherafters,withthinlath-and-plaster between, so that in walking one had to step from beamtobeam. Theroofranuptoanapex,andwas evidentlytheinnershellofthetrueroofofthehouse.</s>Therewasnofurnitureofanysort,andtheaccumu- lateddustofyearslaythickuponthefloor.</s>“Here you are, you see,” said Sherlock Holmes, puttinghishandagainsttheslopingwall. “Thisisa trap-doorwhichleadsoutontotheroof. Icanpress itback,andhereistheroofitself,slopingatagentle angle. This,then,isthewaybywhichNumberOne entered. Letusseeifwecanfindoneothertracesof hisindividuality.” He held down the lamp to the floor, and as he did so I saw for the second time that night a star- tled, surprised look come over his face. For myself, as I followed his gaze my skin was cold under my clothes. Thefloorwascoveredthicklywiththeprints ofanakedfoot,—clear,welldefined,perfectlyformed, butscarcehalfthesizeofthoseofanordinaryman.</s>“Holmes,”Isaid,inawhisper,“achildhasdone thehorridthing.” Hehadrecoveredhisself-possessioninaninstant.</s>“Iwasstaggeredforthemoment,”hesaid, “butthe thing is quite natural. My memory failed me, or I shouldhavebeenabletoforetellit. Thereisnothing moretobelearnedhere. Letusgodown.” “Whatisyourtheory,then,astothosefootmarks?” I asked, eagerly, when we had regained the lower roomoncemore.</s>“My dear Watson, try a little analysis yourself,” saidhe,withatouchofimpatience. “Youknowmy methods. Apply them, and it will be instructive to compareresults.” “Icannotconceiveanythingwhichwillcoverthe facts,”Ianswered.</s>“Itwillbeclearenoughtoyousoon,”hesaid,in an off-hand way. “I think that there is nothing else ofimportancehere,butIwilllook.”Hewhippedout his lens and a tape measure, and hurried about the roomonhisknees,measuring,comparing,examining, with his long thin nose only a few inches from the planks, and his beady eyes gleaming and deep-set likethoseofabird. Soswift,silent,andfurtivewere hismovements,likethoseofatrainedblood-hound pickingoutascent,thatIcouldnotbutthinkwhata terriblecriminalhewouldhavemadehadheturned his energy and sagacity against the law, instead of exertingtheminitsdefense. Ashehuntedabout,he kept muttering to himself, and finally he broke out intoaloudcrowofdelight.</s>“Wearecertainlyinluck,”saidhe. “Weoughtto have very little trouble now. Number One has had the misfortune to tread in the creosote. You can see the outline of the edge of his small foot here at the sideofthisevil-smellingmess. Thecarboyhasbeen cracked,Yousee,andthestuffhasleakedout.” “Whatthen?”Iasked.</s>“Why, we have got him, that’s all,” said he. “I knowadogthatwouldfollowthatscenttotheworld’s end. Ifapackcantrackatrailedherringacrossashire,howfarcanaspecially-trainedhoundfollowsopun- gentasmellasthis? Itsoundslikeasumintherule ofthree. Theanswershouldgiveusthe—Buthalloo! herearetheaccreditedrepresentativesofthelaw.” Heavy steps and the clamor of loud voices were audible from below, and the hall door shut with a loudcrash.</s>“Beforetheycome,”saidHolmes,“justputyour handhereonthispoorfellow’sarm,andhereonhis leg. Whatdoyoufeel?” “Themusclesareashardasaboard,”Ianswered.</s>“Quiteso. Theyareinastateofextremecontrac- tion, far exceeding the usual rigor mortis. Coupled withthisdistortionoftheface,thisHippocraticsmile, or‘risussardonicus,’astheoldwriterscalledit,what conclusionwoulditsuggesttoyourmind?” “Death from some powerful vegetable alkaloid,” Ianswered,—“somestrychnine-likesubstancewhich wouldproducetetanus.” “That was the idea which occurred to me the in- stantIsawthedrawnmusclesoftheface. Ongetting intotheroomIatoncelookedforthemeansbywhich thepoisonhadenteredthesystem. Asyousaw,Idis- coveredathornwhichhadbeendrivenorshotwith nogreatforceintothescalp. Youobservethatthepart struckwasthatwhichwouldbeturnedtowardsthe hole in the ceiling if the man were erect in his chair.</s>Nowexaminethethorn.” Itookitupgingerlyandhelditinthelightofthe lantern. Itwaslong,sharp,andblack,withaglazed looknearthepointasthoughsomegummysubstance haddrieduponit. Thebluntendhadbeentrimmed androundedoffwithaknife.</s>“IsthatanEnglishthorn?”heasked.</s>“No,itcertainlyisnot.” “With all these data you should be able to draw somejustinference. Butherearetheregulars: sothe auxiliaryforcesmaybeataretreat.” As he spoke, the steps which had been coming nearer sounded loudly on the passage, and a very stout,portlymaninagraysuitstrodeheavilyintothe room. Hewasred-faced,burlyandplethoric,witha pairofverysmalltwinklingeyeswhichlookedkeenly outfrombetweenswollenandpuffypouches. Hewas closelyfollowedbyaninspectorinuniform, andby thestillpalpitatingThaddeusSholto.</s>“Here’sabusiness!”hecried,inamuffled,husky voice. “Here’s a pretty business! But who are all these? Why,thehouseseemstobeasfullasarabbit- warren!” “I think you must recollect me, Mr. Athelney Jones,”saidHolmes,quietly.</s>“Why,ofcourseIdo!”hewheezed. “It’sMr.Sher- lockHolmes,thetheorist. Rememberyou! I’llnever forget how you lectured us all on causes and infer- ences and effects in the Bishopgate jewel case. It’s trueyousetusontherighttrack;butyou’llownnow thatitwasmorebygoodluckthangoodguidance.” “Itwasapieceofverysimplereasoning.” “Oh,come,now,come! Neverbeashamedtoown up. Butwhatisallthis? Badbusiness! Badbusiness! Stern facts here,—no room for theories. How lucky that I happened to be out at Norwood over another case! Iwasatthestationwhenthemessagearrived.</s>Whatd’youthinkthemandiedof?” “Oh,thisishardlyacaseformetotheorizeover,” saidHolmes,dryly.</s>“No,no. Still,wecan’tdenythatyouhitthenail ontheheadsometimes. Dearme! Doorlocked,Iun- derstand. Jewelsworthhalfamillionmissing. How wasthewindow?” “Fastened;buttherearestepsonthesill.” “Well,well,ifitwasfastenedthestepscouldhave nothingtodowiththematter. That’scommonsense.</s>Manmighthavediedinafit;butthenthejewelsare missing. Ha! I have a theory. These flashes come upon me at times.—Just step outside, sergeant, and you, Mr. Sholto. Your friend can remain.—What do you think of this, Holmes? Sholto was, on his own confession, with his brother last night. The brother died in a fit, on which Sholto walked off with the treasure. How’sthat?” “Onwhichthedeadmanveryconsideratelygot upandlockedthedoorontheinside.” “Hum! There’saflawthere. Letusapplycommon sense to the matter. This Thaddeus Sholto was with his brother; there was a quarrel; so much we know.</s>Thebrotherisdeadandthejewelsaregone. Somuch alsoweknow. Noonesawthebrotherfromthetime Thaddeus left him. His bed had not been slept in.</s>Thaddeus is evidently in a most disturbed state of mind. His appearance is—well, not attractive. You seethatIamweavingmywebroundThaddeus. The netbeginstocloseuponhim.” “Youarenotquiteinpossessionofthefactsyet,” said Holmes. “This splinter of wood, which I have every reason to believe to be poisoned, was in the man’s scalp where you still see the mark; this card, inscribedasyouseeit,wasonthetable;andbesideit laythisrathercuriousstone-headedinstrument. How doesallthatfitintoyourtheory?”“Confirmsitineveryrespect,”saidthefatdetec- tive,pompously. “HouseisfullofIndiancuriosities.</s>Thaddeusbroughtthisup,andifthissplinterbepoi- sonousThaddeusmayaswellhavemademurderous use of it as any other man. The card is some hocus- pocus,—ablind,aslikeasnot. Theonlyquestionis, how did he depart? Ah, of course, here is a hole in the roof.” With great activity, considering his bulk, he sprang up the steps and squeezed through into thegarret,andimmediatelyafterwardsweheardhis exultingvoiceproclaimingthathehadfoundthetrap- door.</s>“He can find something,” remarked Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. “He has occasional glim- merings of reason. Il n’y a pas des sots si incommodes queceuxquiontdel’esprit!” “Yousee!”saidAthelneyJones,reappearingdown thestepsagain. “Factsarebetterthanmeretheories, afterall. Myviewofthecaseisconfirmed. Thereis a trap-door communicating with the roof, and it is partlyopen.” “ItwasIwhoopenedit.” “Oh,indeed! Youdidnoticeit,then?”Heseemed a little crestfallen at the discovery. “Well, whoever noticedit,itshowshowourgentlemangotaway. In- spector!” “Yes,sir,”fromthepassage.</s>“Ask Mr. Sholto to step this way.—Mr. Sholto, it is my duty to inform you that anything which you may say will be used against you. I arrest you in theQueen’snameasbeingconcernedinthedeathof yourbrother.” “There, now! Didn’t I tell you!” cried the poor littleman,throwingouthishands,andlookingfrom onetotheotherofus.</s>“Don’ttroubleyourselfaboutit,Mr.Sholto,”said Holmes. “IthinkthatIcanengagetoclearyouofthe charge.” “Don’t promise too much, Mr. Theorist,—don’t promisetoomuch!”snappedthedetective. “Youmay finditahardermatterthanyouthink.” “Not only will I clear him, Mr. Jones, but I will makeyouafreepresentofthenameanddescription ofoneofthetwopeoplewhowereinthisroomlast night. His name, I have every reason to believe, is JonathanSmall. Heisapoorly-educatedman,small, active,withhisrightlegoff,andwearingawooden stumpwhichiswornawayupontheinnerside. His leftboothasacoarse,square-toedsole,withaniron bandroundtheheel. Heisamiddle-agedman,much sunburned,andhasbeenaconvict. Thesefewindica- tionsmaybeofsomeassistancetoyou,coupledwith thefactthatthereisagooddealofskinmissingfrom thepalmofhishand. Theotherman—” “Ah! theotherman—?”askedAthelneyJones,ina sneeringvoice,butimpressednonetheless,asIcould easilysee,bytheprecisionoftheother’smanner.</s>“Isarathercuriousperson,”saidSherlockHolmes, turning upon his heel. “I hope before very long to beabletointroduceyoutothepairofthem. Aword withyou,Watson.” Heledmeouttotheheadofthestair. “Thisunex- pectedoccurrence,”hesaid,“hascausedusratherto losesightoftheoriginalpurposeofourjourney.” “I have just been thinking so,” I answered. “It isnotrightthatMissMorstanshouldremaininthis strickenhouse.” “No. You must escort her home. She lives with Mrs. Cecil Forrester, in Lower Camberwell: so it is notveryfar. Iwillwaitforyouhereifyouwilldrive outagain. Orperhapsyouaretootired?” “By no means. I don’t think I could rest until I know more of this fantastic business. I have seen somethingoftheroughsideoflife,butIgiveyoumy wordthatthisquicksuccessionofstrangesurprises to-night has shaken my nerve completely. I should like, however, to see the matter through with you, nowthatIhavegotsofar.” “Yourpresencewillbeofgreatservicetome,”he answered. “Weshallworkthecaseoutindependently, andleavethisfellowJonestoexultoveranymare’s- nest which he may choose to construct. When you have dropped Miss Morstan I wish you to go on to No. 3 Pinchin Lane, down near the water’s edge at Lambeth. The third house on the right-hand side is abird-stuffer’s: Shermanisthename. Youwillseea weaselholdingayoungrabbitinthewindow. Knock oldShermanup,andtellhim,withmycompliments, thatIwantTobyatonce. YouwillbringTobybackin thecabwithyou.” “Adog,Isuppose.” “Yes,—a queer mongrel, with a most amazing powerofscent. IwouldratherhaveToby’shelpthan thatofthewholedetectiveforceofLondon.” “I shall bring him, then,” said I. “It is one now.</s>I ought to be back before three, if I can get a fresh horse.” “AndI,”saidHolmes,“shallseewhatIcanlearn from Mrs. Bernstone, and from the Indian servant, who,Mr.Thaddeustellme,sleepsinthenextgarret.</s>ThenIshallstudythegreatJones’smethodsandlisten tohisnottoodelicatesarcasms. ‘Wirsindgewohnt,daß dieMenschenverho¨hnenwassienichtverstehen.’ Goethe isalwayspithy.”CHAPT he pisode T E Thepolicehadbroughtacabwiththem,andin thisIescortedMissMorstanbacktoherhome. After theangelicfashionofwomen,shehadbornetrouble withacalmfaceaslongastherewassomeoneweaker than herself to support, and I had found her bright andplacidbythesideofthefrightenedhousekeeper.</s>In the cab, however, she first turned faint, and then burstintoapassionofweeping,—sosorelyhadshe been tried by the adventures of the night. She has told me since that she thought me cold and distant upon that journey. She little guessed the struggle withinmybreast,ortheeffortofself-restraintwhich heldmeback. Mysympathiesandmylovewentout to her, even as my hand had in the garden. I felt that years of the conventionalities of life could not teachmetoknowhersweet,bravenatureashadthis one day of strange experiences. Yet there were two thoughts which sealed the words of affection upon mylips. Shewasweakandhelpless,shakeninmind and nerve. It was to take her at a disadvantage to obtrudeloveuponheratsuchatime. Worsestill,she wasrich. IfHolmes’sresearchesweresuccessful,she wouldbeanheiress. Wasitfair,wasithonorable,that ahalf-paysurgeonshouldtakesuchadvantageofan intimacywhichchancehadbroughtabout? Mightshe not look upon me as a mere vulgar fortune-seeker? I could not bear to risk that such a thought should crosshermind. ThisAgratreasureintervenedlikean impassablebarrierbetweenus.</s>It was nearly two o’clock when we reached Mrs.</s>Cecil Forrester’s. The servants had retired hours ago, but Mrs. Forrester had been so interested by the strange message which Miss Morstan had re- ceivedthatshehadsatupinthehopeofherreturn.</s>She opened the door herself, a middle-aged, grace- ful woman, and it gave me joy to see how tenderly herarmstoleroundtheother’swaistandhowmoth- erly was the voice in which she greeted her. She wasclearlynomerepaiddependant,butanhonored friend. Iwasintroduced,andMrs.Forresterearnestly begged me to step in and tell her our adventures. I explained,however,theimportanceofmyerrand,and promised faithfully to call and report any progress which we might make with the case. As we drove awayIstoleaglanceback,andIstillseemtoseethat little group on the step, the two graceful, clinging figures, the half-opened door, the hall light shining throughstainedglass,thebarometer,andthebright stair-rods. Itwassoothingtocatcheventhatpassing TER VII.</s>of the arrel B glimpse of a tranquil English home in the midst of thewild,darkbusinesswhichhadabsorbedus.</s>And the more I thought of what had happened, thewilderanddarkeritgrew. Ireviewedthewhole extraordinary sequence of events as I rattled on throughthesilentgas-litstreets. Therewastheorigi- nalproblem: thatatleastwasprettyclearnow. The deathofCaptainMorstan,thesendingofthepearls, theadvertisement,theletter,—wehadhadlightupon allthoseevents. Theyhadonlyledus,however,toa deeperandfarmoretragicmystery. TheIndiantrea- sure, the curious plan found among Morstan’s bag- gage, the strange scene at Major Sholto’s death, the rediscoveryofthetreasureimmediatelyfollowedby themurderofthediscoverer,theverysingularaccom- panimentstothecrime,thefootsteps,theremarkable weapons, the words upon the card, corresponding withthoseuponCaptainMorstan’schart,—herewas indeed a labyrinth in which a man less singularly endowed than myfellow-lodgermight welldespair ofeverfindingtheclue.</s>Pinchin Lane was a row of shabby two-storied brickhousesinthelowerquarterofLambeth. Ihad toknockforsometimeatNo.3beforeIcouldmake myimpression. Atlast,however,therewastheglint ofacandlebehindtheblind,andafacelookedoutat theupperwindow.</s>“Goon,youdrunkenvagabone,”saidtheface. “If youkickupanymorerowI’llopenthekennelsand letoutforty-threedogsuponyou.” “Ifyou’llletoneoutit’sjustwhatIhavecomefor,” saidI.</s>“Goon!”yelledthevoice. “Sohelpmegracious,I haveawiperinthebag,an’I’lldropitonyour’ead ifyoudon’thookit.” “ButIwantadog,”Icried.</s>“Iwon’t beargued with!”shouted Mr. Sherman.</s>“Nowstandclear,forwhenIsay‘three,’downgoes thewiper.” “Mr.SherlockHolmes—”Ibegan,butthewords had a most magical effect, for the window instantly slammed down, and within a minute the door was unbarred and open. Mr. Sherman was a lanky, lean oldman,withstoopingshoulders,astringyneck,and blue-tintedglasses.</s>“AfriendofMr.Sherlockisalwayswelcome,”said he. “Stepin,sir. Keepclearofthebadger;forhebites.Ah, naughty, naughty, would you take a nip at the gentleman?”Thistoastoatwhichthrustitswicked headandredeyesbetweenthebarsofitscage. “Don’t mindthat,sir: it’sonlyaslow-worm. Ithain’tgotno fangs,soIgivesittheruno’theroom,foritkeepsthe bettlesdown. Youmustnotmindmybein’justalittle shortwi’youatfirst,forI’mguyedatbythechildren, andthere’smanyaonejustcomesdownthislaneto knockmeup. WhatwasitthatMr.SherlockHolmes wanted,sir?” “Hewantedadogofyours.” “Ah! thatwouldbeToby.” “Yes,Tobywasthename.” “Toby lives at No. 7 on the left here.” He moved slowlyforwardwithhiscandleamongthequeeran- imal family which he had gathered round him. In the uncertain, shadowy light I could see dimly that therewereglancing,glimmeringeyespeepingdown atusfromeverycrannyandcorner. Eventherafters above our heads were lined by solemn fowls, who lazily shifted their weight from one leg to the other asourvoicesdisturbedtheirslumbers.</s>Toby proved to an ugly, long-haired, lop-eared creature, half spaniel and half lurcher, brown-and- whiteincolor, withaveryclumsywaddlinggait. It acceptedaftersomehesitationalumpofsugarwhich the old naturalist handed to me, and, having thus sealed an alliance, it followed me to the cab, and madenodifficultiesaboutaccompanyingme. Ithad just struck three on the Palace clock when I found myself back once more at Pondicherry Lodge. The ex-prize-fighterMcMurdohad,Ifound,beenarrested asanaccessory,andbothheandMr.Sholtohadbeen marched off to the station. Two constables guarded thenarrowgate,buttheyallowedmetopasswiththe dogonmymentioningthedetective’sname.</s>Holmes was standing on the door-step, with his handsinhispockets,smokinghispipe.</s>“Ah, you have him there!” said he. “Good dog, then! Athelney Jones has gone. We have had an immensedisplayofenergysinceyouleft. Hehasar- restednotonlyfriendThaddeus,butthegatekeeper, thehousekeeper,andtheIndianservant. Wehavethe placetoourselves,butforasergeantup-stairs. Leave thedoghere,andcomeup.” We tied Toby to the hall table, and reascended the stairs. The room was as we had left it, save that a sheet had been draped over the central figure. A weary-lookingpolice-sergeantreclinedinthecorner.</s>“Lendmeyourbull’s-eye,sergeant,”saidmycom- panion. “Now tie this bit of card round my neck, so as to hang it in front of me. Thank you. Now I mustkickoffmybootsandstockings.—Justyoucarry them down with you, Watson. I am going to do a little climbing. And dip my handkerchief into the creasote. Thatwilldo. Nowcomeupintothegarret withmeforamoment.” We clambered up through the hole. Holmes turnedhislightoncemoreuponthefootstepsinthe dust.</s>“Iwishyouparticularlytonoticethesefootmarks,” hesaid. “Doyouobserveanythingnoteworthyabout them?” “They belong,” I said, “to a child or a small woman.” “Apart from their size, though. Is there nothing else?” “Theyappeartobemuchasotherfootmarks.” “Notatall. Lookhere! Thisistheprintofaright footinthedust. NowImakeonewithmynakedfoot besideit. Whatisthechiefdifference?” “Your toes are all cramped together. The other printhaseachtoedistinctlydivided.” “Quite so. That is the point. Bear that in mind.</s>Now,wouldyoukindlystepovertothatflap-window and smell the edge of the wood-work? I shall stay here,asIhavethishandkerchiefinmyhand.” Ididashedirected,andwasinstantlyconscious ofastrongtarrysmell.</s>“That is where he put his foot in getting out. If youcantracehim,IshouldthinkthatTobywillhave no difficulty. Now run down-stairs, loose the dog, andlookoutforBlondin.” By the time that I got out into the grounds Sher- lock Holmes was on the roof, and I could see him like an enormous glow-worm crawling very slowly along the ridge. I lost sight of him behind a stack ofchimneys,buthepresentlyreappeared,andthen vanishedoncemoreupontheoppositeside. WhenI mademywayroundthereIfoundhimseatedatone ofthecornereaves.</s>“ThatYou,Watson?”hecried.</s>“Yes.” “Thisistheplace. Whatisthatblackthingdown there?” “Awater-barrel.” “Toponit?” “Yes.” “Nosignofaladder?” “No.”“Confound the fellow! It’s a most break-neck place. I ought to be able to come down where he could climb up. The water-pipe feels pretty firm.</s>Heregoes,anyhow.” There was a scuffling of feet, and the lantern be- gantocomesteadilydownthesideofthewall. Then withalightspringhecameontothebarrel,andfrom theretotheearth.</s>“Itwaseasytofollowhim,”hesaid,drawingon his stockings and boots. “Tiles were loosened the whole way along, and in his hurry he had dropped this. Itconfirmsmydiagnosis,asyoudoctorsexpress it.” The object which he held up to me was a small pocket or pouch woven out of colored grasses and with a few tawdry beads strung round it. In shape andsizeitwasnotunlikeacigarette-case. Insidewere half a dozen spines of dark wood, sharp at one end androundedattheother,likethatwhichhadstruck BartholomewSholto.</s>“Theyarehellishthings,”saidhe. “Lookoutthat youdon’tprickyourself. I’mdelightedtohavethem, for the chances are that they are all he has. There is the less fear of you or me finding one in our skin before long. I would sooner face a Martini bullet, myself. Areyougameforasix-miletrudge,Watson?” “Certainly,”Ianswered.</s>“Yourlegwillstandit?” “Oh,yes.” “Here you are, doggy! Good old Toby! Smell it, Toby,smellit!”Hepushedthecreasotehandkerchief underthedog’snose,whilethecreaturestoodwith itsfluffylegsseparated,andwithamostcomicalcock to its head, like a connoisseur sniffing the bouquet of a famous vintage. Holmes then threw the hand- kerchief to a distance, fastened a stout cord to the mongrel’scollar,andlethimtothefootofthewater- barrel. Thecreatureinstantlybrokeintoasuccession of high, tremulous yelps, and, with his nose on the ground,andhistailintheair,patteredoffuponthe trailatapacewhichstrainedhisleashandkeptusat thetopofourspeed.</s>The east had been gradually whitening, and we could now see some distance in the cold gray light.</s>The square, massive house, with its black, empty windowsandhigh,barewalls,toweredup,sadand forlorn, behind us. Our course let right across the grounds, in and out among the trenches and pits with which they were scarred and intersected. The whole place, with its scattered dirt-heaps and ill- grownshrubs,hadablighted,ill-omenedlookwhich harmonizedwiththeblacktragedywhichhungover it.</s>On reaching the boundary wall Toby ran along, whiningeagerly,underneathitsshadow,andstopped finallyinacornerscreenedbyayoungbeech. Where thetwowallsjoined,severalbrickshadbeenloosened, and the crevices left were worn down and rounded upon the lower side, as though they had frequently been used as a ladder. Holmes clambered up, and, takingthedogfromme,hedroppeditoveruponthe otherside.</s>“There’s the print of wooden-leg’s hand,” he re- marked, as I mounted up beside him. “You see the slightsmudgeofblooduponthewhiteplaster. What a lucky thing it is that we have had no very heavy rainsinceyesterday! Thescentwilllieupontheroad inspiteoftheireight-and-twentyhours’start.” IconfessthatIhadmydoubtsmyselfwhenIre- flecteduponthegreattrafficwhichhadpassedalong theLondonroadintheinterval. Myfearsweresoon appeased,however. Tobyneverhesitatedorswerved, butwaddledoninhispeculiarrollingfashion. Clearly, thepungentsmellofthecreasoterosehighaboveall othercontendingscents.</s>“Donotimagine,”saidHolmes,“thatIdependfor mysuccessinthiscaseuponthemerechanceofone ofthesefellowshavingputhisfootinthechemical. I haveknowledgenowwhichwouldenablemetotrace them in many different ways. This, however, is the readiestand,sincefortunehasputitintoourhands, IshouldbeculpableifIneglectedit. Ithas,however, prevented the case from becoming the pretty little intellectualproblemwhichitatonetimepromisedto be. Theremighthavebeensomecredittobegained outofit,butforthistoopalpableclue.” “There is credit, and to spare,” said I. “I assure you, Holmes, that I marvel at the means by which youobtainyourresultsinthiscase,evenmorethanI did in the Jefferson Hope Murder. The thing seems tometobedeeperandmoreinexplicable. How,for example,couldyoudescribewithsuchconfidencethe wooden-leggedman?” “Pshaw, my dear boy! it was simplicity itself. I don’twishtobetheatrical. Itisallpatentandabove- board. Twoofficerswhoareincommandofaconvict- guard learn an important secret as to buried trea- sure. A map is drawn for them by an Englishman named Jonathan Small. You remember that we saw the name upon the chart in Captain Morstan’s pos- session. He had signed it in behalf of himself and hisassociates,—thesignofthefour,ashesomewhatdramatically called it. Aided by this chart, the offi- cers—oroneofthem—getsthetreasureandbringsit toEngland,leaving,wewillsuppose,somecondition under which he received it unfulfilled. Now, then, whydidnotJonathanSmallgetthetreasurehimself? The answer is obvious. The chart is dated at a time whenMorstanwasbroughtintocloseassociationwith convicts. JonathanSmalldidnotgetthetreasurebe- causeheandhisassociateswerethemselvesconvicts andcouldnotgetaway.” “Butthatismerespeculation,”saidI.</s>“It is more than that. It is the only hypothesis whichcoversthefacts. Letusseehowitfitsinwith the sequel. Major Sholto remains at peace for some years,happyinthepossessionofhistreasure. Then hereceivesaletterfromIndiawhichgiveshimagreat fright. Whatwasthat?” “A letter to say that the men whom he had wrongedhadbeensetfree.” “Or had escaped. That is much more likely, for he would have known what their term of imprison- mentwas. Itwouldnothavebeenasurprisetohim.</s>Whatdoeshedothen? Heguardshimselfagainsta wooden-leggedman,—awhiteman,markyou,forhe mistakesawhitetradesmanforhim,andactuallyfires apistolathim. Now,onlyonewhiteman’snameison thechart. TheothersareHindoosorMohammedans.</s>Thereisnootherwhiteman. Thereforewemaysay withconfidencethatthewooden-leggedmanisiden- ticalwithJonathanSmall. Doesthereasoningstrike yoasbeingfaulty?” “No: itisclearandconcise.” “Well, now, let us put ourselves in the place of Jonathan Small. Let us look at it from his point of view. He comes to England with the double idea of regaining what he would consider to be his rights and of having his revenge upon the man who had wrongedhim. HefoundoutwhereSholtolived,and very possibly he established communications with some one inside the house. There is this butler, Lal Rao, whom we have not seen. Mrs. Bernstone gives himfarfromagoodcharacter. Smallcouldnotfind out,however,wherethetreasurewashid,fornoone ever knew, save the major and one faithful servant whohaddied. SuddenlySmalllearnsthatthemajor isonhisdeath-bed. Inafrenzylestthesecretofthe treasure die with him, he runs the gauntlet of the guards, makes his way to the dying man’s window, and is only deterred from entering by the presence ofhistwosons. Madwithhate,however,againstthe deadman,heenterstheroomthatnight,searcheshis privatepapersinthehopeofdiscoveringsomemem- orandum relating to the treasure, and finally leaves amementoofhisvisitintheshortinscriptionupon thecard. Hehaddoubtlessplannedbeforehandthat should he slay the major he would leave some such recorduponthebodyasasignthatitwasnotacom- monmurder,but,fromthepointofviewofthefour associates, something in the nature of an act of jus- tice. Whimsicalandbizarreconceitsofthiskindare commonenoughintheannalsofcrime,andusually affordvaluableindicationsastothecriminal. Doyou followallthis?” “Veryclearly.” “Now,whatcouldJonathanSmalldo? Hecould onlycontinuetokeepasecretwatchupontheefforts madetofindthetreasure. PossiblyheleavesEngland and only comes back at intervals. Then comes the discoveryofthegarret,andheisinstantlyinformed ofit. Weagaintracethepresenceofsomeconfederate inthehousehold. Jonathan, withhiswoodenleg, is utterlyunabletoreachtheloftyroomofBartholomew Sholto. Hetakeswithhim,however,arathercurious associate, who gets over this difficulty, but dips his naked foot into creasote, whence come Toby, and a six-mile limp for a half-pay officer with a damaged tendoAchillis.” “Butitwastheassociate,andnotJonathan,who committedthecrime.” “Quite so. And rather to Jonathan’s disgust, to judgebythewaythestampedaboutwhenhegotinto the room. He bore no grudge against Bartholomew Sholto, and would have preferred if he could have been simply bound and gagged. He did not wish to put his head in a halter. There was no help for it, however: thesavageinstinctsofhiscompanionhad broken out, and the poison had done its work: so JonathanSmalllefthisrecord,loweredthetreasure- box to the ground, and followed it himself. That wasthetrainofeventsasfarasIcandecipherthem.</s>Of course as to his personal appearance he must be middle-aged, and must be sunburned after serving histimeinsuchanovenastheAndamans. Hisheight isreadilycalculatedfromthelengthofhisstride,and we know that he was bearded. His hairiness was theonepointwhichimpresseditselfuponThaddeus Sholtowhenhesawhimatthewindow. Idon’tknow thatthereisanythingelse.” “Theassociate?” “Ah, well, there is no great mystery in that. But youwillknowallaboutitsoonenough. Howsweet themorningairis! Seehowthatonelittlecloudfloatslikeapinkfeatherfromsomegiganticflamingo. Now theredrimofthesunpushesitselfovertheLondon cloud-bank. It shines on a good many folk, but on none, I dare bet, who are on a stranger errand than youandI.Howsmallwefeelwithourpettyambitions and strivings in the presence of the great elemental forcesofnature! AreyouwellupinyourJeanPaul?” “Fairlyso. IworkedbacktohimthroughCarlyle.” “Thatwaslikefollowingthebrooktotheparent lake. Hemakesonecuriousbutprofoundremark. It isthatthechiefproofofman’srealgreatnessliesin his perception of his own smallness. It argues, you see,apowerofcomparisonandofappreciationwhich isinitselfaproofofnobility. Thereismuchfoodfor thoughtinRichter. Youhavenotapistol,haveyou?” “Ihavemystick.” “Itisjustpossiblethatwemayneedsomethingof the sort if we get to their lair. Jonathan I shall leave toyou,butiftheotherturnsnastyIshallshoothim dead.” He took out his revolver as he spoke, and, having loaded two of the chambers, he put it back intotheright-handpocketofhisjacket.</s>Wehadduringthistimebeenfollowingtheguid- ance of Toby down the half-rural villa-lined roads whichleadtothemetropolis. Now,however,wewere beginningtocomeamongcontinuousstreets,where laborers and dockmen were already astir, and slat- ternlywomenweretakingdownshuttersandbrush- ing door-steps. At the square-topped corner pub- lic houses business was just beginning, and rough- looking men were emerging, rubbing their sleeves acrosstheirbeardsaftertheirmorningwet. Strange dogs sauntered up and stared wonderingly at us as wepassed,butourinimitableTobylookedneitherto therightnortotheleft,buttrottedonwardswithhis nose to the ground and an occasional eager whine whichspokeofahotscent.</s>WehadtraversedStreatham,Brixton,Camberwell, andnowfoundourselvesinKenningtonLane,having borneawaythroughtheside-streetstotheeastofthe Oval. The men whom we pursued seemed to have takenacuriouslyzigzagroad,withtheideaprobably ofescapingobservation. Theyhadneverkepttothe main road if a parallel side-street would serve their turn. AtthefootofKenningtonLanetheyhadedged awaytotheleftthroughBondStreetandMilesStreet.</s>WherethelatterstreetturnsintoKnight’sPlace,Toby ceasedtoadvance,butbegantorunbackwardsand forwardswithoneearcockedandtheotherdrooping, the very picture of canine indecision. Then he wad- dledroundincircles,lookinguptousfromtimeto time,asiftoaskforsympathyinhisembarrassment.</s>“What the deuce is the matter with the dog?” growled Holmes. “They surely would not take a cab,orgooffinaballoon.” “Perhaps they stood here for some time,” I sug- gested.</s>“Ah! it’s all right. He’s off again,” said my com- panion,inatoneofrelief.</s>Hewasindeedoff,foraftersniffingroundagain he suddenly made up his mind, and darted away withanenergyanddeterminationsuchashehadnot yet shown. The scent appeared to be much hotter thanbefore,forhehadnoteventoputhisnoseonthe ground,buttuggedathisleashandtriedtobreakinto arun. IcoldseebythegleaminHolmes’seyesthat hethoughtwewerenearingtheendofourjourney.</s>Our course now ran down Nine Elms until we came to Broderick and Nelson’s large timber-yard, justpasttheWhiteEagletavern. Herethedog,frantic withexcitement,turneddownthroughtheside-gate into the enclosure, where the sawyers were already at work. On the dog raced through sawdust and shavings, down an alley, round a passage, between twowood-piles,andfinally,withatriumphantyelp, sprang upon a large barrel which still stood upon thehand-trolleyonwhichithadbeenbrought. With lollingtongueandblinkingeyes,Tobystooduponthe cask, looking from one to the other of us for some sign of appreciation. The staves of the barrel and the wheels of the trolley were smeared with a dark liquid,andthewholeairwasheavywiththesmellof creasote.</s>Sherlock Holmes and I looked blankly at each other,andthenburstsimultaneouslyintoanuncon- trollablefitoflaughter.CHAPT he aker tr T B S “Whatnow?”Iasked. “Tobyhaslosthischaracter forinfallibility.” “He acted according to his lights,” said Holmes, lifting him down from the barrel and walking him out of the timber-yard. “If you consider how much creasote is carted about London in one day, it is no greatwonderthatourtrailshouldhavebeencrossed.</s>Itismuchusednow,especiallyfortheseasoningof wood. PoorTobyisnottoblame.” “Wemustgetonthemainscentagain,Isuppose.” “Yes. And, fortunately, we have no distance to go. Evidentlywhatpuzzledthedogatthecornerof Knight’sPlacewasthatthereweretwodifferenttrails running in opposite directions. We took the wrong one. Itonlyremainstofollowtheother.” There was no difficulty about this. On leading Tobytotheplacewherehehadcommittedhisfault, hecastaboutinawidecircleandfinallydashedoff inafreshdirection.</s>“Wemusttakecarethathedoesnotnowbringus totheplacewherethecreasote-barrelcamefrom,”I observed.</s>“I had thought of that. But you notice that he keeps on the pavement, whereas the barrel passed down the roadway. No, we are on the true scent now.” It tended down towards the river-side, running throughBelmontPlaceandPrince’sStreet. Attheend ofBroadStreetitranrightdowntothewater’sedge, where there was a small wooden wharf. Toby led ustotheveryedgeofthis,andtherestoodwhining, lookingoutonthedarkcurrentbeyond.</s>“We are out of luck,” said Holmes. “They have takentoaboathere.”Severalsmallpuntsandskiffs were lying about in the water and on the edge of thewharf. WetookTobyroundtoeachinturn,but, thoughhesniffedearnestly,hemadenosign.</s>Closetotherudelanding-stagewasasmallbrick house,withawoodenplacardslungoutthroughthe secondwindow. “MordecaiSmith”wasprintedacross itinlargeletters,and,underneath,“Boatstohireby thehourorday.”Asecondinscriptionabovethedoor informedusthatasteamlaunchwaskept,—astate- ment which was confirmed by a great pile of coke uponthejetty. SherlockHolmeslookedslowlyround, andhisfaceassumedanominousexpression.</s>TER VIII.</s>eet rregulars I “This looks bad,” said he. “These fellows are sharperthanIexpected. Theyseemtohavecovered theirtracks. Therehas,Ifear,beenpreconcertedman- agementhere.” Hewasapproachingthedoorofthehouse,when it opened, and a little, curly-headed lad of six came runningout,followedbyastoutish,red-facedwoman withalargespongeinherhand.</s>“You come back and be washed, Jack,” she shouted. “Come back, you young imp; for if your fathercomeshomeandfindsyoulikethat,he’llletus hearofit.” “Dear little chap!” said Holmes, strategically.</s>“What a rosy-cheeked young rascal! Now, Jack, is thereanythingyouwouldlike?” The youth pondered for a moment. “I’d like a shillin’,”saidhe.</s>“Nothingyouwouldlikebetter?” “I’dliketwoshillin’better,”theprodigyanswered, aftersomethought.</s>“Here you are, then! Catch!—A fine child, Mrs.</s>Smith!” “Lor’ bless you, sir, he is that, and forward. He gets a’most too much for me to manage, ’specially whenmymanisawaydaysatatime.” “Away, is he?” said Holmes, in a disappointed voice. “I am sorry for that, for I wanted to speak to Mr.Smith.” “He’sbeenawaysinceyesterdaymornin’,sir,and, truth to tell, I am beginnin’ to feel frightened about him. But if it was about a boat, sir, maybe I could serveaswell.” “Iwantedtohirehissteamlaunch.” “Why,blessyou,sir,itisinthesteamlaunchthat he has gone. That’s what puzzles me; for I know thereain’tmorecoalsinherthanwouldtakeherto about Woolwich and back. If he’d been away in the bargeI’dha’thoughtnothin’;formanyatimeajob hastakenhimasfarasGravesend,andthenifthere wasmuchdoin’therehemightha’stayedover. But whatgoodisasteamlaunchwithoutcoals?” “Hemighthaveboughtsomeatawharfdownthe river.” “He might, sir, but it weren’t his way. Many a timeI’veheardhimcalloutatthepricestheycharge forafewoddbags. Besides,Idon’tlikethatwooden- legged man, wi’ his ugly face and outlandish talk.</s>Whatdidhewantalwaysknockin’aboutherefor?”“A wooden-legged man?” said Holmes, with blandsurprise.</s>“Yes,sir,abrown,monkey-facedchapthat’scalled more’nonceformyoldman. Itwashimthatroused himupyesternight,and,what’smore,mymanknew he was comin’, for he had steam up in the launch.</s>I tell you straight, sir, I don’t feel easy in my mind aboutit.” “But, my dear Mrs. Smith,” said Holmes, shrug- ging his shoulders, “You are frightening yourself about nothing. How could you possibly tell that it wasthewooden-leggedmanwhocameinthenight? Idon’tquiteunderstandhowyoucanbesosure.” “His voice, sir. I knew his voice, which is kind o’thickandfoggy. Hetappedatthewinder,—about threeitwouldbe. ‘Showaleg,matey,’sayshe: ‘time toturnoutguard.’ MyoldmanwokeupJim,—that’s myeldest,—andawaytheywent,withoutsomuchas a word to me. I could hear the wooden leg clackin’ onthestones.” “Andwasthiswooden-leggedmanalone?” “Couldn’tsay,Iamsure,sir. Ididn’thearnoone else.” “I am sorry, Mrs. Smith, for I wanted a steam launch,andIhaveheardgoodreportsofthe—Letme see,whatishername?” “TheAurora,sir.” “Ah! She’snotthatoldgreenlaunchwithayellow line,verybroadinthebeam?” “No,indeed. She’sastrimalittlethingasanyon theriver. She’sbeenfreshpainted,blackwithtwored streaks.” “Thanks. IhopethatyouwillhearsoonfromMr.</s>Smith. Iamgoingdowntheriver;andifIshouldsee anythingoftheAuroraIshalllethimknowthatyou areuneasy. Ablackfunnel,yousay?” “No,sir. Blackwithawhiteband.” “Ah,ofcourse. Itwasthesideswhichwereblack.</s>Good-morning,Mrs.Smith.—Thereisaboatmanhere withawherry,Watson. Weshalltakeitandcrossthe river.</s>“The main thing with people of that sort,” said Holmes, as we sat in the sheets of the wherry, “is nevertoletthemthinkthattheirinformationcanbe oftheslightestimportancetoyou. Ifyoudo,theywill instantlyshutuplikeanoyster. Ifyoulistentothem under protest, as it were, you are very likely to get whatyouwant.” “Ourcoursenowseemsprettyclear,”saidI.</s>“Whatwouldyoudo,then?” “Iwouldengagealaunchandgodowntheriver onthetrackoftheAurora.” “Mydearfellow,itwouldbeacolossaltask. She may have touched at any wharf on either side of thestreambetweenhereandGreenwich. Belowthe bridge there is a perfect labyrinth of landing-places formiles. Itwouldtakeyoudaysanddaystoexhaust them,ifyousetaboutitalone.” “Employthepolice,then.” “No. IshallprobablycallAthelneyJonesinatthe lastmoment. Heisnotabadfellow,andIshouldnot like to do anything which would injure him profes- sionally. ButIhaveafancyforworkingitoutmyself, nowthatwehavegonesofar.” “Couldweadvertise,then,askingforinformation fromwharfingers?” “Worseandworse! Ourmenwouldknowthatthe chase was hot at their heels, and they would be off outofthecountry. Asitis,theyarelikelyenoughto leave,butaslongastheythinktheyareperfectlysafe theywillbeinnohurry. Jones’senergywillbeofuse to us there, for his view of the case is sure to push itselfintothedailypress,andtherunawayswillthink thateveryoneisoffonthewrongscent.” “Whatarewetodo,then?”Iasked,aswelanded nearMillbankPenitentiary.</s>“Takethishansom,drivehome,havesomebreak- fast, and get an hour’s sleep. It is quite on the cards that we may be afoot to-night again. Stop at a telegraph-office, cabby! We will keep Toby, for he maybeofusetousyet.” WepulledupattheGreatPeterStreetpost-office, and Holmes despatched his wire. “Whom do you think that is to?” he asked, as we resumed our jour- ney.</s>“IamsureIdon’tknow.” “YouremembertheBakerStreetdivisionofthede- tectivepoliceforcewhomIemployedintheJefferson Hopecase?” “Well,”saidI,laughing.</s>“Thisisjustthecasewheretheymightbeinvalu- able. Iftheyfail,Ihaveotherresources;butIshalltry themfirst. Thatwirewastomydirtylittlelieutenant, Wiggins, and I expect that he and his gang will be withusbeforewehavefinishedourbreakfast.” It was between eight and nine o’clock now, and Iwasconsciousofastrongreactionafterthesucces- siveexcitementsofthenight. Iwaslimpandweary, befogged in mind and fatigued in body. I had notthe professional enthusiasm which carried my com- panion on, nor could I look at the matter as a mere abstract intellectual problem. As far as the death of Bartholomew Sholto went, I had heard little good of him, and could feel no intense antipathy to his murderers. The treasure, however, was a different matter. That,orpartofit,belongedrightfullytoMiss Morstan. WhiletherewasachanceofrecoveringitI wasreadytodevotemylifetotheoneobject. True,if Ifoundititwouldprobablyputherforeverbeyond my reach. Yet it would be a petty and selfish love whichwouldbeinfluencedbysuchathoughtasthat.</s>If Holmes could work to find the criminals, I had a tenfold stronger reason to urge me on to find the treasure.</s>A bath at Baker Street and a complete change freshened me up wonderfully. When I came down to our room I found the breakfast laid and Holmes pouringoutthecoffee.</s>“Here it is,” said he, laughing, and pointing to an open newspaper. “The energetic Jones and the ubiquitous reporter have fixed it up between them.</s>But you have had enough of the case. Better have yourhamandeggsfirst.” I took the paper from him and read the short notice, which was headed “Mysterious Business at UpperNorwood.” “About twelve o’clock last night,” said the Stan- dard,“Mr.BartholomewSholto,ofPondicherryLodge, UpperNorwood,wasfounddeadinhisroomunder circumstanceswhichpointtofoulplay. Asfaraswe can learn, no actual traces of violence were found upon Mr. Sholto’s person, but a valuable collection of Indian gems which the deceased gentleman had inherited from his father has been carried off. The discovery was first made by Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson, who had called at the house with Mr. Thaddeus Sholto, brother of the deceased. By a singular piece of good fortune, Mr. Athelney Jones, thewell-knownmemberofthedetectivepoliceforce, happened to be at the Norwood Police Station, and was on the ground within half an hour of the first alarm. His trained and experienced faculties were at once directed towards the detection of the crimi- nals,withthegratifyingresultthatthebrother,Thad- deusSholto,hasalreadybeenarrested,togetherwith the housekeeper, Mrs. Bernstone, an Indian butler named Lal Rao, and a porter, or gatekeeper, named McMurdo. Itisquitecertainthatthethieforthieves werewellacquaintedwiththehouse,forMr.Jones’s well-known technical knowledge and his powers of minuteobservationhaveenabledhimtoproveconclu- sivelythatthemiscreantscouldnothaveenteredby thedoororbythewindow,butmusthavemadetheir way across the roof of the building, and so through a trap-door into a room which communicated with that in which the body was found. This fact, which hasbeenveryclearlymadeout,provesconclusively thatitwasnomerehaphazardburglary. Theprompt andenergeticactionoftheofficersofthelawshows thegreatadvantageofthepresenceonsuchoccasions ofasinglevigorousandmasterfulmind. Wecannot butthinkthatitsuppliesanargumenttothosewho wouldwishtoseeourdetectivesmoredecentralized, andsobroughtintocloserandmoreeffectivetouch withthecaseswhichitistheirdutytoinvestigate.” “Isn’titgorgeous!”saidHolmes,grinningoverhis coffee-cup. “Whatdoyouthinkofit?” “Ithinkthatwehavehadacloseshaveourselves ofbeingarrestedforthecrime.” “SodoI.Iwouldn’tanswerforoursafetynow,if he should happen to have another of his attacks of energy.” Atthismomenttherewasaloudringatthebell, andIcouldhearMrs.Hudson,ourlandlady,raising hervoiceinawailofexpostulationanddismay.</s>“Byheaven,Holmes,”Isaid,halfrising,“Ibelieve thattheyarereallyafterus.” “No,it’snotquitesobadasthat. Itistheunofficial force,—theBakerStreetirregulars.” Ashespoke,therecameaswiftpatteringofnaked feet upon the stairs, a clatter of high voices, and in rushed a dozen dirty and ragged little street-Arabs.</s>Therewassomeshowofdisciplineamongthem,de- spitetheirtumultuousentry,fortheyinstantlydrew up in line and stood facing us with expectant faces.</s>One of their number, taller and older than the oth- ers,stoodforwardwithanairofloungingsuperiority which was very funny in such a disreputable little carecrow.</s>“Got your message, sir,” said he, “and brought ’emonsharp. Threebobandatannerfortickets.” “Hereyouare,”saidHolmes,producingsomesil- ver. “Infuturetheycanreporttoyou, Wiggins, and you to me. I cannot have the house invaded in this way. However, it is just as well that you should all heartheinstructions. Iwanttofindthewhereabouts ofasteamlaunchcalledtheAurora,ownerMordecai Smith,blackwithtworedstreaks,funnelblackwith a white band. She is down the river somewhere. I wantoneboytobeatMordecaiSmith’slanding-stage oppositeMillbanktosayiftheboatcomesback. You must divide it out among yourselves, and do bothbanksthoroughly. Letmeknowthemomentyouhave news. Isthatallclear?” “Yes,guv’nor,”saidWiggins.</s>“Theoldscaleofpay,andaguineatotheboywho findstheboat. Here’sadayinadvance. Nowoffyou go!”Hehandedthemashillingeach,andawaythey buzzed down the stairs, and I saw them a moment laterstreamingdownthestreet.</s>“If the launch is above water they will find her,” saidHolmes,asherosefromthetableandlithispipe.</s>“They can go everywhere, see everything, overhear every one. I expect to hear before evening that they havespottedher. Inthemeanwhile,wecandonoth- ingbutawaitresults. Wecannotpickupthebroken trailuntilwefindeithertheAuroraorMr.Mordecai Smith.” “Tobycouldeatthesescraps,Idaresay. Areyou goingtobed,Holmes?” “No: Iamnottired. Ihaveacuriousconstitution.</s>Ineverrememberfeelingtiredbywork,thoughidle- ness exhausts me completely. I am going to smoke and to think over this queer business to which my fairclienthasintroducedus. Ifevermanhadaneasy task, this of ours ought to be. Wooden-legged men arenotsocommon,buttheothermanmust,Ishould think,beabsolutelyunique.” “Thatothermanagain!” “I have no wish to make a mystery of him,—to you, anyway. But you must have formed your own opinion. Now, do consider the data. Diminutive footmarks, toes never fettered by boots, naked feet, stone-headedwoodenmace,greatagility,smallpoi- soneddarts. Whatdoyoumakeofallthis?” “A savage!” I exclaimed. “Perhaps one of those IndianswhoweretheassociatesofJonathanSmall.” “Hardlythat,”saidhe. “WhenfirstIsawsignsof strange weapons I was inclined to think so; but the remarkablecharacterofthefootmarkscausedmeto reconsidermyviews. Someoftheinhabitantsofthe IndianPeninsulaaresmallmen,butnonecouldhave leftsuchmarksasthat. TheHindooproperhaslong andthinfeet. Thesandal-wearingMohammedanhas thegreattoewellseparatedfromtheothers,because thethongiscommonlypassedbetween. Theselittle darts, too, could only be shot in one way. They are from a blow-pipe. Now, then, where are we to find oursavage?” “SouthAmerican,”Ihazarded.</s>Hestretchedhishandup,andtookdownabulky volumefromtheshelf. “Thisisthefirstvolumeofa gazetteer which is now being published. It may be lookeduponastheverylatestauthority. Whathave we here? ‘Andaman Islands, situated 340 miles to the north of Sumatra, in the Bay of Bengal.’ Hum! hum! What’s all this? Moist climate, coral reefs, sharks, Port Blair, convict-barracks, Rutland Island, cottonwoods—Ah,hereweare. ‘Theaboriginesofthe AndamanIslandsmayperhapsclaimthedistinction of being the smallest race upon this earth, though some anthropologistspreferthe Bushmenof Africa, theDiggerIndiansofAmerica,andtheTerradelFue- gians. The average height is rather below four feet, althoughmanyfull-grownadultsmaybefoundwho are very much smaller than this. They are a fierce, morose, and intractable people, though capable of forming most devoted friendships when their con- fidence has once been gained.’ Mark that, Watson.</s>Now,then,listentothis. ‘Theyarenaturallyhideous, havinglarge,misshapenheads,small,fierceeyes,and distortedfeatures. Theirfeetandhands,however,are remarkablysmall. Sointractableandfiercearethey thatalltheeffortsoftheBritishofficialhavefailedto winthemoverinanydegree. Theyhavealwaysbeen aterrortoshipwreckedcrews,brainingthesurvivors withtheirstone-headedclubs,orshootingthemwith their poisoned arrows. These massacres are invari- ably concluded by a cannibal feast.’ Nice, amiable people,Watson! Ifthisfellowhadbeenlefttohisown unaideddevicesthisaffairmighthavetakenaneven moreghastlyturn. Ifancythat,evenasitis,Jonathan Smallwouldgiveagooddealnottohaveemployed him.” “Buthowcamehetohavesosingularacompan- ion?” “Ah, that is more than I can tell. Since, however, wehadalreadydeterminedthatSmallhadcomefrom the Andamans, it is not so very wonderful that this islandershouldbewithhim. Nodoubtweshallknow allaboutitintime. Lookhere,Watson;youlookreg- ularlydone. Liedownthereonthesofa,andseeifI canputyoutosleep.” He took up his violin from the corner, and as I stretched myself out he began to play some low, dreamy, melodious air,—his own, no doubt, for he had a remarkable gift for improvisation. I have a vague remembrance of his gaunt limbs, his earnest face,andtheriseandfallofhisbow. ThenIseemedto befloatedpeacefullyawayuponasoftseaofsound, until I found myself in dream-land, with the sweet faceofMaryMorstanlookingdownuponme.CHAP reak in A B It was late in the afternoon before I woke, strengthened and refreshed. Sherlock Holmes still sat exactly as I had left him, save that he had laid aside his violin and was deep in a book. He looked across at me, as I stirred, and I noticed that his face wasdarkandtroubled.</s>“Youhavesleptsoundly,”hesaid. “Ifearedthat ourtalkwouldwakeyou.” “I heard nothing,” I answered. “Have you had freshnews,then?” “Unfortunately,no. IconfessthatIamsurprised anddisappointed. Iexpectedsomethingdefiniteby this time. Wiggins has just been up to report. He saysthatnotracecanbefoundofthelaunch. Itisa provokingcheck,foreveryhourisofimportance.” “CanIdoanything? Iamperfectlyfreshnow,and quitereadyforanothernight’souting.” “No,wecandonothing. Wecanonlywait. Ifwe goourselves,themessagemightcomeinourabsence, anddelaybecaused. Youcandowhatyouwill,butI mustremainonguard.” “Then I shall run over to Camberwell and call upon Mrs. Cecil Forrester. She asked me to, yester- day.” “On Mrs. Cecil Forrester?” asked Holmes, with thetwinkleofasmileinhiseyes.</s>“Well, of course Miss Morstan too. They were anxioustohearwhathappened.” “I would not tell them too much,” said Holmes.</s>“Womenarenevertobeentirelytrusted,—notthebest ofthem.” Ididnotpausetoargueoverthisatrocioussenti- ment. “Ishallbebackinanhourortwo,”Iremarked.</s>“Allright! Goodluck! But,Isay,ifyouarecross- ingtheriveryoumayaswellreturnToby,forIdon’t thinkitisatalllikelythatweshallhaveanyusefor himnow.” I took our mongrel accordingly, and left him, to- getherwithahalf-sovereign,attheoldnaturalist’sin PinchinLane. AtCamberwellIfoundMissMorstan a little weary after her night’s adventures, but very eagertohearthenews. Mrs.Forrester, too,wasfull of curiosity. I told them all that we had done, sup- pressing, however, the more dreadful parts of the tragedy. Thus,althoughIspokeofMr.Sholto’sdeath, Isaidnothingoftheexactmannerandmethodofit.</s>TER IX.</s>the hain C Withallmyomissions,however,therewasenoughto startleandamazethem.</s>“It is a romance!” cried Mrs. Forrester. “An in- juredlady,halfamillionintreasure,ablackcannibal, andawooden-leggedruffian. Theytaketheplaceof theconventionaldragonorwickedearl.” “And two knight-errants to the rescue,” added MissMorstan,withabrightglanceatme.</s>“Why,Mary,yourfortunedependsupontheissue ofthissearch. Idon’tthinkthatyouarenearlyexcited enough. Just imagine what it must be to be so rich, andtohavetheworldatyourfeet!” Itsentalittlethrillofjoytomyhearttonoticethat sheshowednosignofelationattheprospect. Onthe contrary,shegaveatossofherproudhead,asthough thematterwereoneinwhichshetooksmallinterest.</s>“ItisforMr.ThaddeusSholtothatIamanxious,” shesaid. “Nothingelseisofanyconsequence;butI thinkthathehasbehavedmostkindlyandhonorably throughout. Itisourdutytoclearhimofthisdreadful andunfoundedcharge.” ItwaseveningbeforeIleftCamberwell,andquite dark by the time I reached home. My companion’s book and pipe lay by his chair, but he had disap- peared. I looked about in the hope of seeing a note, buttherewasnone.</s>“I suppose that Mr. Sherlock Holmes has gone out,”IsaidtoMrs.Hudsonasshecameuptolower theblinds.</s>“No, sir. He has gone to his room, sir. Do you know,sir,”sinkinghervoiceintoanimpressivewhis- per,“Iamafraidforhishealth?” “Whyso,Mrs.Hudson?” “Well, he’s that strange, sir. After you was gone hewalkedandhewalked,upanddown,andupand down,untilIwaswearyofthesoundofhisfootstep.</s>Then I heard him talking to himself and muttering, andeverytimethebellrangouthecameonthestair- head, with ‘What is that, Mrs. Hudson?’ And now he has slammed off to his room, but I can hear him walkingawaythesameasever. Ihopehe’snotgoing tobeill,sir. Iventuredtosaysomethingtohimabout coolingmedicine,butheturnedonme,sir,withsuch a look that I don’t know how ever I got out of the room.” “I don’t think that you have any cause to be un- easy,Mrs.Hudson,”Ianswered. “Ihaveseenhimlike thisbefore. Hehassomesmallmatteruponhismindwhichmakeshimrestless.”Itriedtospeaklightlyto ourworthylandlady,butIwasmyselfsomewhatun- easywhenthroughthelongnightIstillfromtimeto timeheardthedullsoundofhistread,andknewhow his keen spirit was chafing against this involuntary inaction.</s>At breakfast-time he looked worn and haggard, withalittlefleckoffeverishcoloruponeithercheek.</s>“You are knocking yourself up, old man,” I re- marked. “Iheardyoumarchingaboutinthenight.” “No,Icouldnotsleep,”heanswered. “Thisinfer- nal problem is consuming me. It is too much to be balkedbysopettyanobstacle,whenallelsehadbeen overcome. I know the men, the launch, everything; and yet I can get no news. I have set other agencies atwork,andusedeverymeansatmydisposal. The wholeriverhasbeensearchedoneitherside,butthere isnonews,norhasMrs.Smithheardofherhusband.</s>I shall come to the conclusion soon that they have scuttledthecraft. Butthereareobjectionstothat.” “OrthatMrs.Smithhasputusonawrongscent.” “No,Ithinkthatmaybedismissed. Ihadinquiries made,andthereisalaunchofthatdescription.” “Couldithavegoneuptheriver?” “Ihaveconsideredthatpossibilitytoo,andthereis asearch-partywhowillworkupasfarasRichmond.</s>If no news comes to-day, I shall start off myself to- morrow,andgoforthemenratherthantheboat. But surely,surely,weshallhearsomething.” We did not, however. Not a word came to us ei- therfromWigginsorfromtheotheragencies. There werearticlesinmostofthepapersupontheNorwood tragedy. Theyallappearedtoberatherhostiletothe unfortunateThaddeusSholto. Nofreshdetailswere tobefound,however,inanyofthem,savethatanin- questwastobehelduponthefollowingday. Iwalked overtoCamberwellintheeveningtoreportourillsuc- cesstotheladies,andonmyreturnIfoundHolmes dejected and somewhat morose. He would hardly replytomyquestions,andbusiedhimselfallevening inanabstrusechemicalanalysiswhichinvolvedmuch heatingofretortsanddistillingofvapors,endingat lastinasmellwhichfairlydrovemeoutoftheapart- ment. UptothesmallhoursofthemorningIcould heartheclinkingofhistest-tubeswhichtoldmethat hewasstillengagedinhismalodorousexperiment.</s>In the early dawn I woke with a start, and was surprised to find him standing by my bedside, clad inarudesailordresswithapea-jacket,andacoarse redscarfroundhisneck.</s>“Iamoffdowntheriver,Watson,”saidhe. “Ihave beenturningitoverinmymind, andIcanseeonly onewayoutofit. Itisworthtrying,atallevents.” “SurelyIcancomewithyou,then?”saidI.</s>“No; you can be much more useful if you will remain here as my representative. I am loath to go, for it is quite on the cards that some message may come during the day, though Wiggins was despon- dentaboutitlastnight. Iwantyoutoopenallnotes and telegrams, and to act on your own judgment if anynewsshouldcome. CanIrelyuponyou?” “Mostcertainly.” “I am afraid that you will not be able to wire to me,forIcanhardlytellyetwhereImayfindmyself.</s>If I am in luck, however, I may not be gone so very long. IshallhavenewsofsomesortorotherbeforeI getback.” Ihadheardnothingofhimbybreakfast-time. On openingtheStandard,however,Ifoundthattherewas afreshallusiontothebusiness.</s>“With reference to the Upper Norwood tragedy,” it remarked, “we have reason to be- lievethatthematterpromisestobeevenmore complex and mysterious than was originally supposed. Fresh evidence has shown that it is quite impossible that Mr. Thaddeus Sholto could have been in any way concerned in the matter. He and the housekeeper, Mrs. Bern- stone, were both released yesterday evening.</s>It is believed, however, that the police have a clue as to the real culprits, and that it is be- ingprosecutedbyMr.AthelneyJones,ofScot- landYard,withallhiswell-knownenergyand sagacity. Further arrests may be expected at anymoment.” “That is satisfactory so far as it goes,” thought I.</s>“FriendSholtoissafe,atanyrate. Iwonderwhatthe freshcluemaybe;thoughitseemstobeastereotyped formwheneverthepolicehavemadeablunder.” I tossed the paper down upon the table, but at thatmomentmyeyecaughtanadvertisementinthe agonycolumn. Itraninthisway: “Lost.—Whereas Mordecai Smith, boatman, and his son, Jim, left Smith’s Wharf at or about three o’clock last Tuesday morning in the steam launch Aurora, black with two red stripes, funnel black with a white band, the sum of five pounds will be paid to any one who can give information to Mrs. Smith, at Smith’s Wharf, or at 221b Baker Street, as to the whereabouts of the said Mordecai Smith andthelaunchAurora.”This was clearly Holmes’s doing. The Baker Street address was enough to prove that. It struck me as ratheringenious,becauseitmightbereadbythefugi- tiveswithouttheirseeinginitmorethanthenatural anxietyofawifeforhermissinghusband.</s>Itwasalongday. Everytimethataknockcameto thedoor,orasharpsteppassedinthestreet,Iimag- inedthatitwaseitherHolmesreturningorananswer tohisadvertisement. Itriedtoread,butmythoughts wouldwanderofftoourstrangequestandtotheill- assortedandvillainouspairwhomwewerepursuing.</s>Couldtherebe,Iwondered,someradicalflawinmy companion’sreasoning. Mighthebesufferingfrom somehugeself-deception? Wasitnotpossiblethathis nimbleandspeculativemindhadbuiltupthiswild theory upon faulty premises? I had never known him to be wrong; and yet the keenest reasoner may occasionally be deceived. He was likely, I thought, to fall into error through the over-refinement of his logic,—hispreferenceforasubtleandbizarreexpla- nation when a plainer and more commonplace one lay ready to his hand. Yet, on the other hand, I had myselfseentheevidence,andIhadheardthereasons forhisdeductions. WhenIlookedbackonthelong chainofcuriouscircumstances,manyofthemtrivial inthemselves,butalltendinginthesamedirection,I couldnotdisguisefrommyselfthatevenifHolmes’s explanation were incorrect the true theory must be equallyoutre´ andstartling.</s>Atthreeo’clockintheafternoontherewasaloud pealatthebell,anauthoritativevoiceinthehall,and, to my surprise, no less a person than Mr. Athelney Jones was shown up to me. Very different was he, however, from the brusque and masterful professor of common sense who had taken over the case so confidentlyatUpperNorwood. Hisexpressionwas downcast,andhisbearingmeekandevenapologetic.</s>“Good-day,sir;good-day,”saidhe. “Mr.Sherlock Holmesisout,Iunderstand.” “Yes, and I cannot be sure when he will be back.</s>Butperhapsyouwouldcaretowait. Takethatchair andtryoneofthesecigars.” “Thank you; I don’t mind if I do,” said he, mop- pinghisfacewitharedbandannahandkerchief.</s>“Andawhiskey-and-soda?” “Well, half a glass. It is very hot for the time of year;andIhavehadagooddealtoworryandtryme.</s>YouknowmytheoryaboutthisNorwoodcase?” “Irememberthatyouexpressedone.” “Well,Ihavebeenobligedtoreconsiderit. Ihad my net drawn tightly round Mr. Sholto, sir, when pop he went through a hole in the middle of it. He wasabletoproveanalibiwhichcouldnotbeshaken.</s>Fromthetimethathelefthisbrother’sroomhewas neveroutofsightofsomeoneorother. Soitcouldnot behewhoclimbedoverroofsandthroughtrap-doors.</s>It’saverydarkcase,andmyprofessionalcreditisat stake. Ishouldbeverygladofalittleassistance.” “Weallneedhelpsometimes,”saidI.</s>“YourfriendMr.SherlockHolmesisawonderful man,sir,”saidhe,inahuskyandconfidentialvoice.</s>“He’samanwhoisnottobebeat. Ihaveknownthat young man go into a good many cases, but I never sawthecaseyetthathecouldnotthrowalightupon.</s>Heisirregularinhismethods,andalittlequickper- hapsinjumpingattheories,but,onthewhole,Ithink he would have made a most promising officer, and I don’t care who knows it. I have had a wire from himthismorning,bywhichIunderstandthathehas got some clue to this Sholto business. Here is the message.” He took the telegram out of his pocket, and handedittome. ItwasdatedfromPoplarattwelve o’clock. “Go to Baker Street at once,” it said. “If I havenotreturned,waitforme. Iamcloseonthetrack oftheSholtogang. Youcancomewithusto-nightif youwanttobeinatthefinish.” “This sounds well. He has evidently picked up thescentagain,”saidI.</s>“Ah, then he has been at fault too,” exclaimed Jones,withevidentsatisfaction. “Eventhebestofus arethrownoffsometimes. Ofcoursethismayprove tobeafalsealarm;butitismydutyasanofficerof thelawtoallownochancetoslip. Butthereissome oneatthedoor. Perhapsthisishe.” Aheavystepwasheardascendingthestair,with agreatwheezingandrattlingasfromamanwhowas sorelyputtoitforbreath. Onceortwicehestopped, asthoughtheclimbweretoomuchforhim,butatlast hemadehiswaytoourdoorandentered. Hisappear- ancecorrespondedtothesoundswhichwehadheard.</s>Hewasanagedman,cladinseafaringgarb,withan oldpea-jacketbuttoneduptohisthroat. Hisbackwas bowed,hiskneeswereshaky,andhisbreathingwas painfullyasthmatic. Asheleaneduponathickoaken cudgelhisshouldersheavedintheefforttodrawthe air into his lungs. He had a colored scarf round his chin, and I could see little of his face save a pair of keendarkeyes,overhungbybushywhitebrows,and longgrayside-whiskers. Altogetherhegavemethe impressionofarespectablemastermarinerwhohad fallenintoyearsandpoverty.</s>“Whatisit,myman?”Iasked.Helookedabouthimintheslowmethodicalfash- ionofoldage.</s>“IsMr.SherlockHolmeshere?”saidhe.</s>“No;butIamactingforhim. Youcantellmeany messageyouhaveforhim.” “ItwastohimhimselfIwastotellit,”saidhe.</s>“But I tell you that I am acting for him. Was it aboutMordecaiSmith’sboat?” “Yes. Iknowswellwhereitis. An’Iknowswhere the men heis after are. An’I knows wherethe trea- sureis. Iknowsallaboutit.” “Thentellme,andIshalllethimknow.” “ItwastohimIwastotellit,”herepeated,with thepetulantobstinacyofaveryoldman.</s>“Well,youmustwaitforhim.” “No,no;Iain’tgoin’toloseawholedaytoplease no one. If Mr. Holmes ain’t here, then Mr. Holmes mustfinditalloutforhimself. Idon’tcareaboutthe lookofeitherofyou,andIwon’ttellaword.” Heshuffledtowardsthedoor,butAthelneyJones gotinfrontofhim.</s>“Waitabit,myfriend,”saidhe. “Youhaveimpor- tantinformation,andyoumustnotwalkoff. Weshall keep you, whether you like or not, until our friend returns.” The old man made a little run towards the door, but,asAthelneyJonesputhisbroadbackupagainst it,herecognizedtheuselessnessofresistance.</s>“Prettysorto’treatmentthis!”hecried,stamping his stick. “I come here to see a gentleman, and you two, who I never saw in my life, seize me and treat meinthisfashion!” “You will be none the worse,” I said. “We shall recompense you for the loss of your time. Sit over hereonthesofa,andyouwillnothavelongtowait.” Hecameacrosssullenlyenough,andseatedhim- self with his face resting on his hands. Jones and I resumedourcigarsandourtalk. Suddenly,however, Holmes’svoicebrokeinuponus.</s>“I think that you might offer me a cigar too,” he said.</s>Webothstartedinourchairs. TherewasHolmes sittingclosetouswithanairofquietamusement.</s>“Holmes!” I exclaimed. “You here! But where is theoldman?” “Hereistheoldman,”saidhe,holdingoutaheap ofwhitehair. “Hereheis,—wig,whiskers,eyebrows, andall. Ithoughtmydisguisewasprettygood,butI hardlyexpectedthatitwouldstandthattest.” “Ah, you rogue!” cried Jones, highly delighted.</s>“Youwouldhavemadeanactor,andarareone. You had the proper workhouse cough, and those weak legsofyoursareworthtenpoundaweek. Ithought Iknewtheglintofyoureye,though. Youdidn’tget awayfromussoeasily,yousee.” “Ihavebeenworkinginthatget-upallday,”said he, lighting his cigar. “You see, a good many of the criminalclassesbegintoknowme,—especiallysince ourfriendheretooktopublishingsomeofmycases: soIcanonlygoonthewar-pathundersomesimple disguiselikethis. Yougotmywire?” “Yes;thatwaswhatbroughtmehere.” “Howhasyourcaseprospered?” “Ithasallcometonothing. Ihavehadtorelease twoofmyprisoners,andthereisnoevidenceagainst theothertwo.” “Never mind. We shall give you two others in theplaceofthem. Butyoumustputyourselfunder myorders. Youarewelcometoalltheofficialcredit, butyoumustactonthelinethatIpointout. Isthat agreed?” “Entirely,ifyouwillhelpmetothemen.” “Well, then, in the first place I shall want a fast police-boat—a steam launch—to be at the Westmin- sterStairsatseveno’clock.” “That is easily managed. There is always one about there; but I can step across the road and tele- phonetomakesure.” “Then I shall want two stanch men, in case of resistance.” “There will be two or three in the boat. What else?” “Whenwesecurethemenweshallgetthetreasure.</s>Ithinkthatitwouldbeapleasuretomyfriendhere totaketheboxroundtotheyoungladytowhomhalf of it rightfully belongs. Let her be the first to open it.—Eh,Watson?” “Itwouldbeagreatpleasuretome.” “Ratheranirregularproceeding,”saidJones,shak- inghishead. “However,thewholethingisirregular, andIsupposewemustwinkatit. Thetreasuremust afterwards be handed over to the authorities until aftertheofficialinvestigation.” “Certainly. That is easily managed. One other point. Ishouldmuchliketohaveafewdetailsabout this matter from the lips of Jonathan Small himself.</s>You know I like to work the detail of my cases out.Thereisnoobjectiontomyhavinganunofficialinter- viewwithhim,eitherhereinmyroomsorelsewhere, aslongasheisefficientlyguarded?” “Well,youaremasterofthesituation. Ihavehad no proof yet of the existence of this Jonathan Small.</s>However,ifyoucancatchhimIdon’tseehowIcan refuseyouaninterviewwithhim.” CHAP he nd of T E Our meal was a merry one. Holmes coud talk exceedingly well when he chose, and that night he didchoose. Heappearedtobeinastateofnervous exaltation. I have never known him so brilliant. He spokeonaquicksuccessionofsubjects,—onmiracle- plays, on medieval pottery, on Stradivarius violins, ontheBuddhismofCeylon,andonthewar-shipsof the future,—handling each as though he had made a special study of it. His bright humor marked the reaction from his black depression of the preceding days. Athelney Jones proved to be a sociable soul in his hours of relaxation, and face his dinner with theairofabonvivant. Formyself,Ifeltelatedatthe thought that we were nearing the end of our task, and I caught something of Holmes’s gaiety. None ofusalludedduringdinnertothecausewhichhad broughtustogether.</s>When the cloth was cleared, Holmes glanced at thiswatch,andfilledupthreeglasseswithport. “One bumper,”saidhe,“tothesuccessofourlittleexpedi- tion. Andnowitishightimewewereoff. Haveyou apistol,Watson?” “Ihavemyoldservice-revolverinmydesk.” “You had best take it, then. It is well to be pre- pared. Iseethatthecabisatthedoor. Iordereditfor half-pastsix.” It was a little past seven before we reached the Westminster wharf, and found our launch awaiting us. Holmeseyeditcritically.</s>“Isthereanythingtomarkitasapolice-boat?” “Yes,—thatgreenlampattheside.” “Thentakeitoff.” “Thatisunderstood,then?” “Perfectly. Isthereanythingelse?” “Only that I insist upon your dining with us. It will be ready in half an hour. I have oysters and a brace of grouse, with something a little choice in whitewines.—Watson,youhaveneveryetrecognized mymeritsasahousekeeper.” TER X.</s>the slander I Thesmallchangewasmade,westeppedonboard, andtheropeswerecastoff. Jones,Holmes,andIsat in the stern. There was one man at the rudder, one totendtheengines,andtwoburlypolice-inspectors forward.</s>“Whereto?”askedJones.</s>“To the Tower. Tell them to stop opposite Jacob- son’sYard.” Ourcraftwasevidentlyaveryfastone. Weshot past the long lines of loaded barges as though they were stationary. Holmes smiled with satisfaction as weoverhauledariversteamerandleftherbehindus.</s>“We ought to be able to catch anything on the river,”hesaid.</s>“Well, hardly that. But there are not many launchestobeatus.” “We shall have to catch the Aurora, and she has a name for being a clipper. I will tell you how the landlies,Watson. YourecollecthowannoyedIwasat beingbalkedbysosmallathing?” “Yes.” “Well,Igavemymindathoroughrestbyplung- ing into a chemical analysis. One of our greatest statesmenhassaidthatachangeofworkisthebest rest. Soitis. WhenIhadsucceededindissolvingthe hydrocarbonwhichIwasatworkat,Icamebackto our problem of the Sholtos, and thought the whole matteroutagain. Myboyshadbeenuptheriverand down the river without result. The launch was not at any landing-stage or wharf, nor had it returned.</s>Yet it could hardly have been scuttled to hide their traces,—though that always remained as a possible hypothesis if all else failed. I knew this man Smallhad a certain degree of low cunning, but I did not thinkhimcapableofanythinginthenatureofdelicate finesse. Thatisusuallyaproductofhighereducation.</s>I then reflected that since he had certainly been in Londonsometime—aswehadevidencethathemain- tainedacontinualwatchoverPondicherryLodge—he could hardly leave at a moment’s notice, but would needsomelittletime,ifitwereonlyaday,toarrange hisaffairs. Thatwasthebalanceofprobability,atany rate.” “It seems to me to be a little weak,” said I. “It is moreprobablethathehadarrangedhisaffairsbefore everhesetoutuponhisexpedition.” “No, I hardly think so. This lair of his would be toovaluablearetreatincaseofneedforhimtogive it up until he was sure that he could do without it.</s>Butasecondconsiderationstruckme. JonathanSmall must have felt that the peculiar appearance of his companion, however much he may have top-coated him, would give rise to gossip, and possibly be as- sociated with this Norwood tragedy. He was quite sharpenoughtoseethat. Theyhadstartedfromtheir head-quartersundercoverofdarkness,andhewould wish to get back before it was broad light. Now, it waspastthreeo’clock,accordingtoMrs.Smith,when theygottheboat. Itwouldbequitebright,andpeo- ple would be about in an hour or so. Therefore, I argued, they did not go very far. They paid Smith well to hold his tongue, reserved his launch for the final escape, and hurried to their lodgings with the treasure-box. In a couple of nights, when they had timetoseewhatviewthepaperstook,andwhether therewasanysuspicion,theywouldmaketheirway under cover of darkness to some ship at Gravesend or in the Downs, where no doubt they had already arrangedforpassagestoAmericaortheColonies.” “Butthelaunch? Theycouldnothavetakenthat totheirlodgings.” “Quite so. I argued that the launch must be no greatwayoff,inspiteofitsinvisibility. Ithenputmy- selfintheplaceofSmall,andlookedatitasamanof hiscapacitywould. Hewouldprobablyconsiderthat tosendbackthelaunchortokeepitatawharfwould makepursuiteasyifthepolicedidhappentogeton histrack. How,then,couldheconcealthelaunchand yethaveherathandwhenwanted? Iwonderedwhat IshoulddomyselfifIwereinhisshoes. Icouldonly thinkofonewayofdoingit. Imightlandthelaunch overtosomeboat-builderorrepairer,withdirections to make a trifling change in her. She would then be removed to his shed or hard, and so be effectually concealed,whileatthesametimeIcouldhaveherat afewhours’notice.” “Thatseemssimpleenough.” “It is just these very simple things which are ex- tremely liable to be overlooked. However, I deter- mined to act on the idea. I started at once in this harmless seaman’s rig and inquired at all the yards down the river. I drew blank at fifteen, but at the sixteenth—Jacobson’s—IlearnedthattheAurorahad beenhandedovertothemtwodaysagobyawooden- legged man, with some trivial directions as to her rudder. ‘There ain’t naught amiss with her rudder,’ saidtheforeman. ‘Thereshelies,withtheredstreaks.’ AtthatmomentwhoshouldcomedownbutMorde- cai Smith, the missing owner? He was rather the worseforliquor. Ishouldnot,ofcourse,haveknown him,buthebellowedouthisnameandthenameof hislaunch. ‘Iwantherto-nightateighto’clock,’said he,—‘eighto’clocksharp,mind,forIhavetwogentle- menwhowon’tbekeptwaiting.’ Theyhadevidently paidhimwell,forhewasveryflushofmoney,chuck- ingshillingsabouttothemen. Ifollowedhimsome distance,buthesubsidedintoanale-house: soIwent back to the yard, and, happening to pick up one of myboysontheway,Istationedhimasasentryover thelaunch. Heistostandatwater’sedgeandwave his handkerchief to us when they start. We shall be lyingoffinthestream,anditwillbeastrangething ifwedonottakemen,treasure,andall.” “Youhaveplanneditallveryneatly,whetherthey aretherightmenornot,”saidJones;“butiftheaffair were in my hands I should have had a body of po- liceinJacobson’sYard,andarrestedthemwhenthey camedown.” “Which would have been never. This man Small isaprettyshrewdfellow. Hewouldsendascouton ahead,andifanythingmadehimsuspiciousliesnug foranotherweek.” “ButyoumighthavestucktoMordecaiSmith,and sobeenledtotheirhiding-place,”saidI.</s>“InthatcaseIshouldhavewastedmyday. Ithink that it is a hundred to one against Smith knowing where they live. As long as he has liquor and good pay, why should he ask questions? They send him messageswhattodo. No,Ithoughtovereverypossi- blecourse,andthisisthebest.” Whilethisconversationhadbeenproceeding,we had been shooting the long series of bridges which spantheThames. AswepassedtheCitythelastrays of the sun were gilding the cross upon the summit of St. Paul’s. It was twilight before we reached the Tower.“ThatisJacobson’sYard,”saidHolmes,pointing to a bristle of masts and rigging on the Surrey side.</s>“Cruisegentlyupanddownhereundercoverofthis string of lighters.” He took a pair of night-glasses fromhispocketandgazedsometimeattheshore. “I seemysentryathispost,”heremarked,“butnosign ofahandkerchief.” “Supposewegodown-streamashortwayandlie inwaitforthem,”saidJones,eagerly. Wewereallea- gerbythistime,eventhepolicemenandstokers,who hadaveryvagueideaofwhatwasgoingforward.</s>“Wehavenorighttotakeanythingforgranted,” Holmesanswered. “Itiscertainlytentoonethatthey godown-stream,butwecannotbecertain. Fromthis point we can see the entrance of the yard, and they canhardlyseeus. Itwillbeaclearnightandplenty oflight. Wemuststaywhereweare. Seehowthefolk swarmoveryonderinthegaslight.” “Theyarecomingfromworkintheyard.” “Dirty-looking rascals, but I suppose every one hassomelittleimmortalsparkconcealedabouthim.</s>Youwouldnotthinkit,tolookatthem. Thereisnoa prioriprobabilityaboutit. Astrangeenigmaisman!” “Some one calls him a soul concealed in an ani- mal,”Isuggested.</s>“WinwoodReadeisgooduponthesubject,”said Holmes. “Heremarksthat,whiletheindividualman isaninsolublepuzzle,intheaggregatehebecomesa mathematicalcertainty. Youcan,forexample,never foretell what any one man will do, but you can say with precision what an average number will be up to. Individualsvary,butpercentagesremainconstant.</s>Sosaysthestatistician. ButdoIseeahandkerchief? Surelythereisawhiteflutteroveryonder.” “Yes, it is your boy,” I cried. “I can see him plainly.” “And there is the Aurora,” exclaimed Holmes, “and going like the devil! Full speed ahead, engi- neer. Makeafterthatlaunchwiththeyellowlight. By heaven, I shall never forgive myself if she proves to havetheheelsofus!” Shehadslippedunseenthroughtheyard-entrance andpassedbehindtwoorthreesmallcraft,sothatshe hadfairlygotherspeedupbeforewesawher. Now shewasflyingdownthestream,nearintotheshore, goingatatremendousrate. Joneslookedgravelyat herandshookhishead.</s>“She is very fast,” he said. “I doubt if we shall catchher.” “We must catch her!” cried Holmes, between his teeth. “Heapiton,stokers! Makeherdoallshecan! Ifweburntheboatwemusthavethem!” Wewerefairlyafterhernow. Thefurnacesroared, andthepowerfulengineswhizzedandclanked,like a great metallic heart. Her sharp, steep prow cut throughtheriver-waterandsenttworollingwavesto rightandtoleftofus. Witheverythroboftheengines wesprangandquiveredlikealivingthing. Onegreat yellow lantern in our bows threw a long, flickering funnel of light in front of us. Right ahead a dark blur upon the water showed where the Aurora lay, andtheswirlofwhitefoambehindherspokeofthe paceatwhichshewasgoing. Weflashedpastbarges, steamers, merchant-vessels, in and out, behind this oneandroundtheother. Voiceshailedusoutofthe darkness,butstilltheAurorathunderedon,andstill wefollowedcloseuponhertrack.</s>“Pile it on, men, pile it on!” cried Holmes, look- ingdownintotheengine-room,whilethefierceglow frombelowbeatuponhiseager, aquilineface. “Get everypoundofsteamyoucan.” “Ithinkwegainalittle,”saidJones,withhiseyes ontheAurora.</s>“Iamsureofit,”saidI.“Weshallbeupwithher inaveryfewminutes.” Atthatmoment,however,asourevilfatewould haveit,atugwiththreebargesintowblunderedin between us. It was only by putting our helm hard down that we avoided a collision, and before we could round them and recover our way the Aurora hadgainedagoodtwohundredyards. Shewasstill, however,wellinview,andthemurkyuncertaintwi- lightwassettingintoaclearstarlitnight. Ourboilers were strained to their utmost, and the frail shell vi- bratedandcreakedwiththefierceenergywhichwas drivingusalong. WehadshotthroughthePool,past theWestIndiaDocks,downthelongDeptfordReach, andupagainafterroundingtheIsleofDogs. Thedull blurinfrontofusresolveditselfnowclearlyenough intothedaintyAurora. Jonesturnedoursearch-light upon her, so that we could plainly see the figures uponherdeck. Onemansatbythestern,withsome- thingblackbetweenhiskneesoverwhichhestooped.</s>BesidehimlayadarkmasswhichlookedlikeaNew- foundlanddog. Theboyheldthetiller,whileagainst the red glare of the furnace I could see old Smith, stripped to the waist, and shovelling coals for dear life. They may have had some doubt at first as to whether we were really pursuing them, but now as wefollowedeverywindingandturningwhichtheytooktherecouldnolongerbeanyquestionaboutit.</s>At Greenwich we were about three hundred paces behind them. At Blackwall we could not have been more than two hundred and fifty. I have coursed manycreaturesinmanycountriesduringmycheck- eredcareer,butneverdidsportgivemesuchawild thrillasthismad,flyingman-huntdowntheThames.</s>Steadilywedrewinuponthem,yardbyyard. Inthe silence of the night we could hear the panting and clankingoftheirmachinery. Themaninthesternstill croucheduponthedeck,andhisarmsweremoving as though he were busy, while every now and then he would look up and measure with a glance the distance which still separated us. Nearer we came and nearer. Jones yelled to them to stop. We were notmorethanfourboat’slengthsbehindthem,both boatsflyingatatremendouspace. Itwasaclearreach of the river, with Barking Level upon one side and the melancholy Plumstead Marshes upon the other.</s>Atourhailthemaninthesternsprangupfromthe deck and shook his two clinched fists at us, cursing the while in a high, cracked voice. He was a good- sized,powerfulman,andashestoodpoisinghimself withlegsastrideIcouldseethatfromthethighdown- wardstherewasbutawoodenstumpupontheright side. At the sound of his strident, angry cries there wasmovementinthehuddledbundleuponthedeck.</s>Itstraighteneditselfintoalittleblackman—thesmall- est I have ever seen—with a great, misshapen head andashockoftangled,dishevelledhair. Holmeshad alreadydrawnhisrevolver,andIwhippedoutmine atthesightofthissavage,distortedcreature. Hewas wrappedinsomesortofdarkulsterorblanket,which leftonlyhisfaceexposed;butthatfacewasenough togiveamanasleeplessnight. NeverhaveIseenfea- turessodeeplymarkedwithallbestialityandcruelty.</s>His small eyes glowed and burned with a sombre light, and his thick lips were writhed back from his teeth,whichgrinnedandchatteredatuswithahalf animalfury.</s>“Fireifheraiseshishand,”saidHolmes,quietly.</s>We were within a boat’s-length by this time, and al- mostwithintouchofourquarry. Icanseethetwoof themnowastheystood,thewhitemanwithhislegs far apart, shrieking out curses, and the unhallowed dwarf with his hideous face, and his strong yellow teethgnashingatusinthelightofourlantern.</s>It was well that we had so clear a view of him.</s>Even as we looked he plucked out from under his coveringashort,roundpieceofwood,likeaschool- ruler, and clapped it to his lips. Our pistols rang outtogether. Hewhirledround, threwuphisarms, andwithakindofchokingcoughfellsidewaysinto the stream. I caught one glimpse of his venomous, menacing eyes amid the white swirl of the waters.</s>Atthesamemomentthewooden-leggedmanthrew himself upon the rudder and put it hard down, so thathisboatmadestraightinforthesouthernbank, while we shot past her stern, only clearing her by a fewfeet. Wewereroundafterher inaninstant, but shewasalreadynearlyatthebank. Itwasawildand desolate place, where the moon glimmered upon a wideexpanseofmarsh-land,withpoolsofstagnant water and beds of decaying vegetation. The launch with a dull thud ran up upon the mud-bank, with her bow in the air and her stern flush with the wa- ter. Thefugitivesprangout,buthisstumpinstantly sank its whole length into the sodden soil. In vain he struggled and writhed. Not one step could he possiblytakeeitherforwardsorbackwards. Heyelled inimpotentrage,andkickedfranticallyintothemud with his other foot, but his struggles only bored his wooden pin the deeper into the sticky bank. When we brought our launch alongside he was so firmly anchored that it was only by throwing the end of a ropeoverhisshouldersthatwewereabletohaulhim out, and to drag him, like some evil fish, over our side. ThetwoSmiths,fatherandson,satsullenlyin theirlaunch,butcameaboardmeeklyenoughwhen commanded. The Aurora herself we hauled off and made fast to our stern. A solid iron chest of Indian workmanshipstooduponthedeck. This,therecould benoquestion,wasthesamethathadcontainedthe ill-omenedtreasureoftheSholtos. Therewasnokey, butitwasofconsiderableweight,sowetransferred it carefully to our own little cabin. As we steamed slowlyup-streamagain,weflashedoursearch-light in every direction, but there was no sign of the Is- lander. Somewhereinthedarkoozeatthebottomof theThamesliethebonesofthatstrangevisitortoour shores.</s>“Seehere,”saidHolmes,pointingtothewooden hatchway. “We were hardly quick enough with our pistols.” There, sure enough, just behind where we had been standing, stuck one of those murderous dartswhichweknewsowell. Itmusthavewhizzed betweenusattheinstantthatwefired. Holmessmiled atitandshruggedhisshouldersinhiseasyfashion, but I confess that it turned me sick to think of the horrible death which had passed so close to us that night.CHAP he reat T G A Ourcaptivesatinthecabinoppositetotheiron boxwhichhehaddonesomuchandwaitedsolong to gain. He was a sunburned, reckless-eyed fellow, withanet-workoflinesandwrinklesalloverhisma- hogany features, which told of a hard, open-air life.</s>Therewasasingularprominenceabouthisbearded chinwhichmarkedamanwhowasnottobeeasily turnedfromhispurpose. Hisagemayhavebeenfifty or thereabouts, for his black, curly hair was thickly shotwithgray. Hisfaceinreposewasnotanunpleas- ingone,thoughhisheavybrowsandaggressivechin gave him, as I had lately seen, a terrible expression when moved to anger. He sat now with his hand- cuffedhandsuponhislap,andhisheadsunkupon hisbreast,whilehelookedwithhiskeen,twinkling eyes at the box which had been the cause of his ill- doings. Itseemedtomethattherewasmoresorrow than anger in his rigid and contained countenance.</s>Oncehelookedupatmewithagleamofsomething likehumourinhiseyes.</s>“Well, Jonathan Small,” said Holmes, lighting a cigar,“Iamsorrythatithascometothis.” “AndsoamI,sir,”heanswered,frankly. “Idon’t believe that I can swing over the job. I give you my wordonthebookthatIneverraisedhandagainstMr.</s>Sholto. Itwasthatlittlehell-houndTongawhoshot oneofhiscurseddartsintohim. Ihadnopartinit,sir.</s>Iwasasgrievedasifithadbeenmyblood-relation. I weltedthelittledevilwiththeslackendoftherope forit,butitwasdone,andIcouldnotundoitagain.” “Have a cigar,” said Holmes; “and you had best takeapulloutofmyflask,foryouareverywet. How could you expect so small and weak a man as this black fellow to overpower Mr. Sholto and hold him whileyouwereclimbingtherope?” “You seem to know as much about it as if you were there, sir. The truth is that I hoped to find the roomclear. Iknewthehabitsofthehouseprettywell, and it was the time when Mr. Sholto usually went down to his supper. I shall make no secret of the business. The best defence that I can make is just thesimpletruth. Now,ifithadbeentheoldmajorI wouldhaveswungforhimwithalightheart. Iwould havethoughtnomoreofknifinghimthanofsmoking thiscigar. Butit’scursedhardthatIshouldbelagged overthisyoungSholto,withwhomIhadnoquarrel whatever.” TER XI.</s>gra reasure T “YouareunderthechargeofMr.AthelneyJones, ofScotlandYard. Heisgoingtobringyouuptomy rooms, and I shall ask you for a true account of the matter. Youmustmakeacleanbreastofit,forifyou do I hope that I may be of use to you. I think I can prove that the poison acts so quickly that the man wasdeadbeforeeveryoureachedtheroom.” “That he was, sir. I never got such a turn in my lifeaswhenIsawhimgrinningatmewithhishead onhisshoulderasIclimbedthroughthewindow. It fairlyshookme,sir. I’dhavehalfkilledTongaforitif hehadnotscrambledoff. Thatwashowhecameto leave his club, and some of his darts too, as he tells me,whichIdaresayhelpedtoputyouonourtrack; though how you kept on it is more than I can tell. I don’t feel no malice against you for it. But it does seem a queer thing,” he added, with a bitter smile, “thatIwhohaveafairclaimtonighuponhalfamil- lion of money should spend the first half of my life buildingabreakwaterintheAndamans,andamlike tospendtheotherhalfdiggingdrainsatDartmoor. It wasanevildayformewhenfirstIclappedeyesupon the merchant Achmet and had to do with the Agra treasure, which never brought anything but a curse yet upon the man who owned it. To him it brought murder,toMajorSholtoitbroughtfearandguilt,to meithasmeantslaveryforlife.” At this moment Athelney Jones thrust his broad faceandheavyshouldersintothetinycabin. “Quite afamilyparty,”heremarked. “IthinkIshallhavea pull at that flask, Holmes. Well, I think we may all congratulateeachother. Pitywedidn’ttaketheother alive; but there was no choice. I say, Holmes, you mustconfessthatyoucutitratherfine. Itwasallwe coulddotooverhaulher.” “All is well that ends well,” said Holmes. “But I certainly did not know that the Aurora was such a clipper.” “Smithsayssheisoneofthefastestlauncheson theriver,andthatifhehadhadanothermantohelp him with the engines we should never have caught her. He swears he knew nothing of this Norwood business.” “Neitherhedid,”criedourprisoner,—“notaword.</s>IchosehislaunchbecauseIheardthatshewasaflier.</s>We told him nothing, but we paid him well, and he was to get something handsome if we reached ourvessel, the Esmeralda, at Gravesend, outward bound fortheBrazils.” “Well,ifhehasdonenowrongweshallseethat no wrong comes to him. If we are pretty quick in catchingourmen,wearenotsoquickincondemning them.”Itwasamusingtonoticehowtheconsequen- tialJoneswasalreadybeginningtogivehimselfairs onthestrengthofthecapture. Fromtheslightsmile whichplayedoverSherlockHolmes’sface,Icouldsee thatthespeechhadnotbeenlostuponhim.</s>“We will be at Vauxhall Bridge presently,” said Jones, “and shall land you, Dr. Watson, with the treasure-box. I need hardly tell you that I am tak- ingaverygraveresponsibilityuponmyselfindoing this. Itismostirregular;butofcourseanagreement is an agreement. I must, however, as a matter of duty,sendaninspectorwithyou,sinceyouhaveso valuableacharge. Youwilldrive,nodoubt?” “Yes,Ishalldrive.” “Itisapitythereisnokey,thatwemaymakean inventoryfirst. Youwillhavetobreakitopen. Where isthekey,myman?” “Atthebottomoftheriver,”saidSmall,shortly.</s>“Hum! Therewasnouseyourgivingthisunnec- essary trouble. We have had work enough already throughyou. However,doctor,Ineednotwarnyouto becareful. BringtheboxbackwithyoutotheBaker Street rooms. You will find us there, on our way to thestation.” TheylandedmeatVauxhall,withmyheavyiron box, and with a bluff, genial inspector as my com- panion. A quarter of an hour’s drive brought us to Mrs.CecilForrester’s. Theservantseemedsurprised at so late a visitor. Mrs. Cecil Forrester was out for theevening,sheexplained,andlikelytobeverylate.</s>MissMorstan,however,wasinthedrawing-room: so tothedrawing-roomIwent,boxinhand,leavingthe obliginginspectorinthecab.</s>She was seated by the open window, dressed in somesortofwhitediaphanousmaterial,withalittle touchofscarletattheneckandwaist. Thesoftlightof ashadedlampfelluponherassheleanedbackinthe basketchair,playingoverhersweet,graveface,and tinting with a dull, metallic sparkle the rich coils of herluxurianthair. Onewhitearmandhanddrooped overthesideofthechair,andherwholeposeandfig- urespokeofanabsorbingmelancholy. Atthesound ofmyfoot-fallshesprangtoherfeet,however,anda bright flush of surprise and of pleasure colored her palecheeks.</s>“Iheardacabdriveup,”shesaid. “Ithoughtthat Mrs.Forresterhadcomebackveryearly,butInever dreamedthatitmightbeyou. Whatnewshaveyou broughtme?” “Ihavebroughtsomethingbetterthannews,”said I,puttingdowntheboxuponthetableandspeaking joviallyandboisterously,thoughmyheartwasheavy withinme. “Ihavebroughtyousomethingwhichis worthallthenewsintheworld. Ihavebroughtyoua fortune.” She glanced at iron box. “Is that the treasure, then?”sheasked,coollyenough.</s>“Yes, this is the great Agra treasure. Half of it is yoursandhalfisThaddeusSholto’s. Youwillhavea coupleofhundredthousandeach. Thinkofthat! An annuity of ten thousand pounds. There will be few richeryoungladiesinEngland. Isitnotglorious?” IthinkthatImusthavebeenratheroveractingmy delight, and that she detected a hollow ring in my congratulations, for I saw her eyebrows rise a little, andsheglancedatmecuriously.</s>“IfIhaveit,”saidshe,“Ioweittoyou.” “No,no,”Ianswered,“nottome,buttomyfriend Sherlock Holmes. With all the will in the world, I couldneverhavefollowedupacluewhichhastaxed evenhisanalyticalgenius. Asitwas,weverynearly lostitatthelastmoment.” “Pray sit down and tell me all about it, Dr. Wat- son,”saidshe.</s>I narrated briefly what had occurred since I had seenherlast,—Holmes’snewmethodofsearch,the discoveryoftheAurora,theappearanceofAthelney Jones, our expedition in the evening, and the wild chase down the Thames. She listened with parted lipsandshiningeyestomyrecitalofouradventures.</s>When I spoke of the dart which had so narrowly missedus,sheturnedsowhitethatIfearedthatshe wasabouttofaint.</s>“Itisnothing,”shesaid,asIhastenedtopourher outsomewater. “Iamallrightagain. Itwasashock to me to hear that I had placed my friends in such horribleperil.” “That isall over,”I answered. “It wasnothing. I will tell you no more gloomy details. Let us turn to somethingbrighter. Thereisthetreasure. Whatcould bebrighterthanthat? Igotleavetobringitwithme, thinking that it would interest you to be the first to seeit.” “It would be of the greatest interest to me,” she said. There was no eagerness in her voice, however.Ithadstruckher,doubtless,thatitmightseemungra- ciousuponherparttobeindifferenttoaprizewhich hadcostsomuchtowin.</s>“What a pretty box!” she said, stooping over it.</s>“ThisisIndianwork,Isuppose?” “Yes;itisBenaresmetal-work.” “Andsoheavy!”sheexclaimed,tryingtoraiseit.</s>“Theboxalonemustbeofsomevalue. Whereisthe key?” “SmallthrewitintotheThames,”Ianswered. “I must borrow Mrs. Forrester’s poker.” There was in thefrontathickandbroadhasp,wroughtintheim- ageofasittingBuddha. UnderthisIthrusttheend of the poker and twisted it outward as a lever. The haspsprangopenwithaloudsnap. Withtrembling fingersIflungbackthelid. Webothstoodgazingin astonishment. Theboxwasempty! Nowonderthatitwasheavy. Theiron-workwas two-thirdsofaninchthickallround. Itwasmassive, wellmade,andsolid,likeachestconstructedtocarry thingsofgreatprice,butnotoneshredorcrumbof CHAP he trange tory T S S Averypatientmanwasthatinspectorinthecab, foritwasawearytimebeforeIrejoinedhim. Hisface cloudedoverwhenIshowedhimtheemptybox.</s>“There goes the reward!” said he, gloomily.</s>“Wherethereisnomoneythereisnopay. Thisnight’s work would have been worth a tenner each to Sam Brownandmeifthetreasurehadbeenthere.” “Mr.ThaddeusSholtoisarichman,”Isaid. “He willseethatyouarerewarded,treasureorno.” Theinspectorshookhisheaddespondently,how- ever. “It’sabadjob,”herepeated;“andsoMr.Athel- neyJoneswillthink.” His forecast proved to be correct, for the detec- tivelookedblankenoughwhenIgottoBakerStreet andshowedhimtheemptybox. Theyhadonlyjust arrived, Holmes, the prisoner, and he, for they had changedtheirplanssofarastoreportthemselvesat metalorjewelrylaywithinit. Itwasabsolutelyand completelyempty.</s>“Thetreasureislost,”saidMissMorstan,calmly.</s>AsIlistenedtothewordsandrealizedwhatthey meant,agreatshadowseemedtopassfrommysoul.</s>IdidnotknowhowthisAgratreasurehadweighed me down, until now that it was finally removed. It was selfish, no doubt, disloyal, wrong, but I could realizenothingsavethatthegoldenbarrierwasgone frombetweenus. “ThankGod!”Iejaculatedfrommy veryheart.</s>Shelookedatmewithaquick,questioningsmile.</s>“Whydoyousaythat?”sheasked.</s>“Becauseyouarewithinmyreachagain,”Isaid, takingherhand. Shedidnotwithdrawit. “BecauseI loveyou,Mary,astrulyaseveramanlovedawoman.</s>Because this treasure, these riches, sealed my lips.</s>NowthattheyaregoneIcantellyouhowIloveyou.</s>ThatiswhyIsaid,‘ThankGod.’” “ThenIsay,‘ThankGod,’too,”shewhispered,as Idrewhertomyside. Whoeverhadlostatreasure,I knewthatnightthatIhadgainedone.</s>TER XII.</s>of onathan mall J S a station upon the way. My companion lounged in hisarm-chairwithhisusuallistlessexpression,while Small sat stolidly opposite to him with his wooden leg cocked over his sound one. As I exhibited the empty box he leaned back in his chair and laughed aloud.</s>“Thisisyourdoing,Small,”saidAthelneyJones, angrily.</s>“Yes,Ihaveputitawaywhereyoushallneverlay handuponit,”hecried,exultantly. “Itismytreasure; andifIcan’thavethelootI’lltakedarnedgoodcare that no one else does. I tell you that no living man hasanyrighttoit,unlessitisthreemenwhoarein the Andaman convict-barracks and myself. I know nowthatIcannothavetheuseofit,andIknowthat they cannot. I have acted all through for them as muchasformyself. It’sbeenthesignoffourwithus always. WellIknowthattheywouldhavehadmedojustwhatIhavedone,andthrowthetreasureintothe ThamesratherthanletitgotokithorkinofSholtoor ofMorstan. Itwasnottomakethemrichthatwedid for Achmet. You’ll find the treasure where the key is, and where little Tonga is. When I saw that your launch must catch us, I put the loot away in a safe place. Therearenorupeesforyouthisjourney.” “Youaredeceivingus,Small,”saidAthelneyJones, sternly. “Ifyouhadwishedtothrowthetreasureinto theThamesitwouldhavebeeneasierforyoutohave thrownboxandall.” “Easierformetothrow,andeasierforyoutore- cover,” he answered, with a shrewd, sidelong look.</s>“Themanthatwascleverenoughtohuntmedownis cleverenoughtopickanironboxfromthebottomof ariver. Nowthattheyarescatteredoverfivemilesor so,itmaybeaharderjob. Itwenttomyhearttodoit, though. Iwashalfmadwhenyoucameupwithus.</s>However, there’s no good grieving over it. I’ve had upsinmylife,andI’vehaddowns,butI’velearned nottocryoverspilledmilk.” “Thisisaveryseriousmatter,Small,”saidthede- tective. “Ifyouhadhelpedjustice,insteadofthwart- ingitinthisway,youwouldhavehadabetterchance atyourtrial.” “Justice!” snarled the ex-convict. “A pretty jus- tice! Whose loot is this, if it is not ours? Where is thejusticethatIshouldgiveituptothosewhohave neverearnedit? LookhowIhaveearnedit! Twenty longyearsinthatfever-riddenswamp,alldayatwork underthemangrove-tree,allnightchainedupinthe filthyconvict-huts,bittenbymosquitoes,rackedwith ague,bulliedbyeverycursedblack-facedpoliceman who loved to take it out of a white man. That was howIearnedtheAgratreasure;andyoutalktomeof justicebecauseIcannotbeartofeelthatIhavepaid this price only that another may enjoy it! I would ratherswingascoreoftimes,orhaveoneofTonga’s dartsinmyhide,thanliveinaconvict’scellandfeel that another man is at his ease in a palace with the moneythatshouldbemine.”Smallhaddroppedhis maskofstoicism,andallthiscameoutinawildwhirl of words, while his eyes blazed, and the handcuffs clankedtogetherwiththeimpassionedmovementof hishands. Icouldunderstand,asIsawthefuryand thepassionoftheman,thatitwasnogroundlessor unnatural terror which had possessed Major Sholto when he first learned that the injured convict was uponhistrack.</s>“Youforgetthatweknownothingofallthis,”said Holmesquietly. “Wehavenotheardyourstory,and we cannot tell how far justice may originally have beenonyourside.” “Well, sir, youhavebeenveryfair-spokentome, thoughIcanseethatIhaveyoutothankthatIhave thesebraceletsuponmywrists. Still,Ibearnogrudge forthat. Itisallfairandabove-board. Ifyouwantto hear my story I have no wish to hold it back. What I say to you is God’s truth, every word of it. Thank you; you can put the glass beside me here, and I’ll putmylipstoitifIamdry.</s>“I am a Worcestershire man myself,—born near Pershore. IdaresayyouwouldfindaheapofSmalls living there now if you were to look. I have often thoughtoftakingalookroundthere,butthetruthis thatIwasnevermuchofacredittothefamily,andI doubtiftheywouldbesoverygladtoseeme. They wereallsteady,chapel-goingfolk,smallfarmers,well knownandrespectedoverthecountry-side,whileI wasalwaysabitofarover. Atlast,however,whenI wasabouteighteen,Igavethemnomoretrouble,for I got into a mess over a girl, and could only get out ofitagainbytakingthequeen’sshillingandjoining the3dBuffs,whichwasjuststartingforIndia.</s>“I wasn’t destined to do much soldiering, how- ever. Ihadjustgotpastthegoose-step,andlearned tohandlemymusket,whenIwasfoolenoughtogo swimming in the Ganges. Luckily for me, my com- pany sergeant, John Holder, was in the water at the sametime,andhewasoneofthefinestswimmersin the service. A crocodile took me, just as I was half- wayacross,andnippedoffmyrightlegascleanasa surgeoncouldhavedoneit,justabovetheknee. What with the shock and the loss of blood, I fainted, and shouldhavedrownedifHolderhadnotcaughthold ofmeandpaddledforthebank. Iwasfivemonthsin hospital over it, and when at last I was able to limp outofitwiththistimbertoestrappedtomystumpI foundmyselfinvalidedoutofthearmyandunfitted foranyactiveoccupation.</s>“I was, as you can imagine, pretty down on my luck at this time, for I was a useless cripple though not yet in my twentieth year. However, my misfor- tunesoonprovedtobeablessingindisguise. Aman named Abelwhite, who had come out there as an indigo-planter, wanted an overseer to look after his cooliesandkeepthemuptotheirwork. Hehappened tobeafriendofourcolonel’s,whohadtakenanin- terestinmesincetheaccident. Tomakealongstory short,thecolonelrecommendedmestronglyforthe postand,astheworkwasmostlytobedoneonhorse- back,mylegwasnogreatobstacle,forIhadenough kneelefttokeepgoodgriponthesaddle. WhatIhadtodowastorideovertheplantation,tokeepaneye onthemenastheyworked,andtoreporttheidlers.</s>The pay was fair, I had comfortable quarters, and altogether I was content to spend the remainder of mylifeinindigo-planting. Mr.Abelwhitewasakind man, and he would often drop intomy little shanty and smoke a pipe with me, for white folk out there feeltheirheartswarmtoeachotherastheyneverdo hereathome.</s>“Well, I was never in luck’s way long. Suddenly, without a note of warning, the great mutiny broke upon us. One month India lay as still and peaceful, to all appearance, as Surrey or Kent; the next there were two hundred thousand black devils let loose, and the country was a perfect hell. Of course you know all about it, gentlemen,—a deal more than I do, very like, since reading is not in my line. I only knowwhatIsawwithmyowneyes. Ourplantation was at a place called Muttra, near the border of the NorthwestProvinces. Nightafternightthewholesky wasalightwiththeburningbungalows,anddayafter day we had small companies of Europeans passing throughourestatewiththeirwivesandchildren,on theirwaytoAgra,wherewerethenearesttroops. Mr.</s>Abelwhite was an obstinate man. He had it in his head that the affair had been exaggerated, and that itwouldblowoverassuddenlyasithadsprungup.</s>Therehesatonhisveranda,drinkingwhiskey-pegs and smoking cheroots, while the country was in a blaze about him. Of course we stuck by him, I and Dawson, who, with his wife, used to do the book- workandthemanaging. Well,onefinedaythecrash came. I had been away on a distant plantation, and was riding slowly home in the evening, when my eye fell upon something all huddled together at the bottom of a steep nullah. I rode down to see what itwas,andthecoldstruckthroughmyheartwhenI founditwasDawson’swife,allcutintoribbons,and halfeatenbyjackalsandnativedogs. Alittlefurther up the road Dawson himself was lying on his face, quitedead,withanemptyrevolverinhishandand fourSepoyslyingacrosseachotherinfrontofhim. I reinedupmyhorse,wonderingwhichwayIshould turn,butatthatmomentIsawthicksmokecurlingup fromAbelwhite’sbungalowandtheflamesbeginning to burst through the roof. I knew then that I could domyemployernogood,butwouldonlythrowmy ownlifeawayifImeddledinthematter. Fromwhere IstoodIcouldseehundredsoftheblackfiends,with theirredcoatsstillontheirbacks,dancingandhowl- ingroundtheburninghouse. Someofthempointed atme,andacoupleofbulletssangpastmyhead;soI brokeawayacrossthepaddy-fields,andfoundmyself lateatnightsafewithinthewallsatAgra.</s>“Asitproved,however,therewasnogreatsafety there,either. Thewholecountrywasuplikeaswarm of bees. Wherever the English could collect in lit- tle bands they held just the ground that their guns commanded. Everywhere else they were helpless fugitives. It was a fight of the millions against the hundreds;andthecruellestpartofitwasthatthese men that we fought against, foot, horse, and gun- ners, were our own picked troops, whom we had taughtandtrained,handlingourownweapons,and blowingourownbugle-calls. AtAgratherewerethe 3dBengalFusiliers,someSikhs,twotroopsofhorse, andabatteryofartillery. Avolunteercorpsofclerks and merchants had been formed, and this I joined, woodenlegandall. Wewentouttomeettherebelsat ShahgungeearlyinJuly,andwebeatthembackfor atime,butourpowdergaveout,andwehadtofall backuponthecity. Nothingbuttheworstnewscame tousfromeveryside,—whichisnottobewondered at,forifyoulookatthemapyouwillseethatwewere rightintheheartofit. Lucknowisratherbetterthana hundredmilestotheeast,andCawnporeaboutasfar tothesouth. Fromeverypointonthecompassthere wasnothingbuttortureandmurderandoutrage.</s>“ThecityofAgraisagreatplace,swarmingwith fanaticsandfiercedevil-worshippersofallsorts. Our handfulofmenwerelostamongthenarrow,winding streets. Ourleadermovedacrosstheriver,therefore, and took up his position in the old fort at Agra. I don’t know if any of you gentlemen have ever read orheardanythingofthatoldfort. Itisaveryqueer place,—the queerest that ever I was in, and I have beeninsomerumcorners,too. Firstofall,itisenor- mousinsize. Ishouldthinkthattheenclosuremust be acres and acres. There is a modern part, which took all our garrison, women, children, stores, and everything else, with plenty of room over. But the modernpartisnothinglikethesizeoftheoldquarter, where nobody goes, and which is given over to the scorpions and the centipedes. It is all full of great desertedhalls, andwindingpassages, andlongcor- ridors twisting in and out, so that it is easy enough forfolktogetlostinit. Forthisreasonitwasseldom that any one went into it, though now and again a partywithtorchesmightgoexploring.</s>“Theriverwashesalongthefrontoftheoldfort, andsoprotectsit,butonthesidesandbehindthere are many doors, and these had to be guarded, of course,intheoldquarteraswellasinthatwhichwas actually held by our troops. We were short-handed, with hardly men enough to man the angles of thebuildingandtoservetheguns. Itwasimpossiblefor us,therefore,tostationastrongguardateveryoneof theinnumerablegates. Whatwedidwastoorganize acentralguard-houseinthemiddleofthefort,and toleaveeachgateunderthechargeofonewhiteman andtwoorthreenatives. Iwasselectedtotakecharge duringcertainhoursofthenightofasmallisolated door upon the southwest side of the building. Two Sikhtrooperswereplacedundermycommand,and I was instructed if anything went wrong to fire my musket,whenImightrelyuponhelpcomingatonce from the central guard. As the guard was a good twohundredpacesaway,however,andasthespace betweenwascutupintoalabyrinthofpassagesand corridors,Ihadgreatdoubtsastowhethertheycould arrive in time to be of any use in case of an actual attack.</s>“Well, I was pretty proud at having this small commandgivenme,sinceIwasarawrecruit,anda game-legged one at that. For two nights I kept the watch with my Punjaubees. They were tall, fierce- lookingchaps,MahometSinghandAbdullahKhan byname,botholdfighting-menwhohadbornearms againstusatChilian-wallah. TheycouldtalkEnglish pretty well, but I could get little out of them. They preferred to stand together and jabber all night in their queer Sikh lingo. For myself, I used to stand outside the gate-way, looking down on the broad, windingriverandonthetwinklinglightsofthegreat city. Thebeatingofdrums,therattleoftomtoms,and theyellsandhowlsoftherebels,drunkwithopium and with bang, were enough to remind us all night ofourdangerousneighborsacrossthestream. Every twohourstheofficerofthenightusedtocomeround toalltheposts,tomakesurethatallwaswell.</s>“Thethirdnightofmywatchwasdarkanddirty, withasmall,drivingrain. Itwasdrearyworkstand- inginthegate-wayhourafterhourinsuchweather. I triedagainandagaintomakemySikhstalk,butwith- outmuchsuccess. Attwointhemorningtherounds passed,andbrokeforamomentthewearinessofthe night. Findingthatmycompanionswouldnotbeled intoconversation,Itookoutmypipe,andlaiddown mymuskettostrikethematch. Inaninstantthetwo Sikhswereuponme. Oneofthemsnatchedmyfire- lock up and levelled it at my head, while the other held a great knife to my throat and swore between histeeththathewouldplungeitintomeifImoveda step.</s>“Myfirstthoughtwasthatthesefellowswerein league with the rebels, and that this was the begin- ning of an assault. If our door were in the hands of the Sepoys the place must fall, and the women and children be treated as they were in Cawnpore.</s>MaybeyougentlementhinkthatIamjustmakingout acaseformyself,butIgiveyoumywordthatwhenI thoughtofthat,thoughIfeltthepointoftheknifeat mythroat,Iopenedmymouthwiththeintentionof giving a scream, if it was my last one, which might alarmthemainguard. Themanwhoheldmeseemed to know my thoughts; for, even as I braced myself to it, he whispered, ‘Don’t make a noise. The fort issafeenough. Therearenorebeldogsonthisside of the river.’ There was the ring of truth in what he said,andIknewthatifIraisedmyvoiceIwasadead man. I could read it in the fellow’s brown eyes. I waited, therefore, in silence, to see what it was that theywantedfromme.</s>“‘Listen to me, Sahib,’ said the taller and fiercer ofthepair,theonewhomtheycalledAbdullahKhan.</s>‘You must either be with us now or you must be si- lenced forever. The thing is too great a one for us to hesitate. Either you are heart and soul with us on your oath on the cross of the Christians, or your body this night shall be thrown into the ditch and weshallpassovertoourbrothersintherebelarmy.</s>There is no middle way. Which is it to be, death or life? We can only give you three minutes to decide, for the time is passing, and all must be done before theroundscomeagain.’ “‘How can I decide?’ said I. ‘You have not told me what you want of me. But I tell you now that if itisanythingagainstthesafetyofthefortIwillhave no truck with it, so you can drive home your knife andwelcome.’ “‘Itisnothingagainstthefort,’saidhe. ‘Weonly askyoutodo thatwhichyourcountrymencome to this land for. We ask you to be rich. If you will be one of us this night, we will swear to you upon the nakedknife,andbythethreefoldoathwhichnoSikh was ever known to break, that you shall have your fairshareoftheloot. Aquarterofthetreasureshall beyours. Wecansaynofairer.’ “‘Butwhatisthetreasure,then?’ Iasked. ‘Iamas ready to be rich as you can be, if you will but show mehowitcanbedone.’ “‘Youwillswear,then,’saidhe,‘bythebonesof yourfather,bythehonorofyourmother,bythecross of your faith, to raise no hand and speak no word againstus,eithernoworafterwards?’ “‘I will swear it,’ I answered, ‘provided that the fortisnotendangered.’“‘Then my comrade and I will swear that you shall have a quarter of the treasure which shall be equallydividedamongthefourofus.’ “‘Therearebutthree,’saidI.</s>“‘No;DostAkbarmusthavehisshare. Wecantell the tale to you while we await them. Do you stand atthegate,MahometSingh,andgivenoticeoftheir coming. Thethingstandsthus,Sahib,andItellitto you because I know that an oath is binding upon a Feringhee,andthatwemaytrustyou. Hadyoubeen a lying Hindoo, though you had sworn by all the gods in their false temples, your blood would have beenupontheknife,andyourbodyinthewater. But theSikhknowstheEnglishman,andtheEnglishman knowstheSikh. Hearken,then,towhatIhavetosay.</s>“‘Thereisarajahinthenorthernprovinceswho hasmuchwealth,thoughhislandsaresmall. Much hascometohimfromhisfather,andmorestillhehas setbyhimself,forheisofalownatureandhoardshis gold rather than spend it. When the troubles broke out he would be friends both with the lion and the tiger,—with the Sepoy and with the Company’s raj.</s>Soon,however,itseemedtohimthatthewhitemen’s daywascome,forthroughallthelandhecouldhear ofnothingbutoftheirdeathandtheiroverthrow. Yet, beingacarefulman,hemadesuchplansthat,come whatmight,halfatleastofhistreasureshouldbeleft tohim. Thatwhichwasingoldandsilverhekeptby himinthevaultsofhispalace,butthemostprecious stonesandthechoicestpearlsthathehadheputinan ironbox,andsentitbyatrustyservantwho,under theguiseofamerchant, shouldtakeittothefortat Agra, there to lie until the land is at peace. Thus, if the rebels won he would have his money, but if theCompanyconqueredhisjewelswouldbesavedto him. Havingthusdividedhishoard,hethrewhimself into the cause of the Sepoys, since they were strong uponhisborders. Bydoingthis,markyou,Sahib,his property becomes the due of those who have been truetotheirsalt.</s>“‘Thispretendedmerchant,whotravelsunderthe nameofAchmet,isnowinthecityofAgra,andde- sirestogainhiswayintothefort. Hehaswithhimas travelling-companionmyfoster-brotherDostAkbar, whoknowshissecret. DostAkbarhaspromisedthis nighttoleadhimtoaside-posternofthefort,andhas chosen this one for his purpose. Here he will come presently,andherehewillfindMahometSinghand myself awaiting him. The place is lonely, and none shall know of his coming. The world shall know of themerchantAchmetnomore,butthegreattreasure oftherajahshallbedividedamongus. Whatsayyou toit,Sahib?’ “InWorcestershirethelifeofamanseemsagreat andasacredthing;butitisverydifferentwhenthere is fire and blood all round you and you have been usedtomeetingdeathateveryturn. WhetherAchmet themerchantlivedordiedwasathingaslightasair to me, but at the talk about the treasure my heart turnedtoit,andIthoughtofwhatImightdointhe old country with it, and how my folk would stare whentheysawtheirne’er-do-wellcomingbackwith his pockets full of gold moidores. I had, therefore, alreadymadeupmymind. AbdullahKhan,however, thinking that I hesitated, pressed the matter more closely.</s>“‘Consider, Sahib,’ said he, ‘that if this man is taken by the commandant he will be hung or shot, and his jewels taken by the government, so that no manwillbearupeethebetterforthem. Now,since wedothetakingofhim, whyshouldwenotdothe restaswell? Thejewelswillbeaswellwithusasin theCompany’scoffers. Therewillbeenoughtomake everyoneofusrichmenandgreatchiefs. Noonecan knowaboutthematter, forherewearecutofffrom all men. What could be better for the purpose? Say again,then,Sahib,whetheryouarewithus,orifwe mustlookuponyouasanenemy.’ “‘Iamwithyouheartandsoul,’saidI.</s>“‘It is well,’ he answered, handing me back my firelock. ‘You see that we trust you, for your word, like ours, is not to be broken. We have now only to waitformybrotherandthemerchant.’ “‘Doesyourbrotherknow,then,ofwhatyouwill do?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Theplanishis. Hehasdevisedit. Wewillgoto thegateandsharethewatchwithMahometSingh.’ “Therainwasstillfallingsteadily,foritwasjust thebeginningofthewetseason. Brown,heavyclouds were drifting across the sky, and it was hard to see more than a stone-cast. A deep moat lay in front of ourdoor,butthewaterwasinplacesnearlydriedup, and it could easily be crossed. It was strange to me tobestandingtherewiththosetwowildPunjaubees waitingforthemanwhowascomingtohisdeath.</s>“Suddenly my eye caught the glint of a shaded lantern at the other side of the moat. It vanished among the mound-heaps, and then appeared again comingslowlyinourdirection.</s>“‘Heretheyare!’ Iexclaimed.</s>“‘You will challenge him, Sahib, as usual,’ whis- peredAbdullah. ‘Givehimnocauseforfear. Sendus inwithhim,andweshalldotherestwhileyoustayhere on guard. Have the lantern ready to uncover, thatwemaybesurethatitisindeedtheman.’ “The light had flickered onwards, now stopping andnowadvancing,untilIcouldseetwodarkfigures upontheothersideofthemoat. Iletthemscramble downtheslopingbank,splashthroughthemire,and climb half-way up to the gate, before I challenged them.</s>“‘Whogoesthere?’ saidI,inasubduedvoice.</s>“‘Friends,’ came the answer. I uncovered my lantern and threw a flood of light upon them. The firstwasanenormousSikh,withablackbeardwhich sweptnearlydowntohiscummerbund. Outsideofa showIhaveneverseensotallaman. Theotherwas alittle,fat,roundfellow,withagreatyellowturban, and a bundle in his hand, done up in a shawl. He seemed tobe all in aquiver withfear, for his hands twitched as if he had the ague, and his head kept turning to left and right with two bright little twin- klingeyes,likeamousewhenheventuresoutfrom hishole. Itgavemethechillstothinkofkillinghim, but I thought of the treasure, and my heart set as hard as a flint within me. When he saw my white facehegavealittlechirrupofjoyandcamerunning uptowardsme.</s>“‘Yourprotection,Sahib,’hepanted,—‘yourpro- tection for the unhappy merchant Achmet. I have travelledacrossRajpootanathatImightseektheshel- terofthefortatAgra. Ihavebeenrobbedandbeaten andabusedbecauseIhavebeenthefriendoftheCom- pany. ItisablessednightthiswhenIamoncemore insafety,—Iandmypoorpossessions.’ “‘Whathaveyouinthebundle?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Anironbox,’heanswered,‘whichcontainsone ortwolittlefamilymatterswhichareofnovalueto others,butwhichIshouldbesorrytolose. YetIam not a beggar; and I shall reward you, young Sahib, andyourgovernoralso,ifhewillgivemetheshelter Iask.’ “Icouldnottrustmyselftospeaklongerwiththe man. ThemoreIlookedathisfat,frightenedface,the harder did it seem that we should slay him in cold blood. Itwasbesttogetitover.</s>“‘Take him to the main guard,’ said I. The two Sikhs closed in upon him on each side, and the gi- ant walked behind, while they marched in through the dark gate-way. Never was a man so compassed round with death. I remained at the gate-way with thelantern.</s>“I could hear the measured tramp of their foot- steps sounding through the lonely corridors. Sud- denlyitceased,andIheardvoices,andascuffle,with the sound of blows. A moment later there came, to myhorror,arushoffootstepscominginmydirection, with the loud breathing of a running man. I turned mylanterndownthelong,straightpassage,andthere wasthefatman,runninglikethewind,withasmear ofbloodacrosshisface,andcloseathisheels,bound- inglikeatiger,thegreatblack-beardedSikh,witha knife flashing in his hand. I have never seen a man runsofastasthatlittlemerchant. Hewasgainingon the Sikh, and I could see that if he once passed me andgottotheopenairhewouldsavehimselfyet. My heart softened to him, but again the thought of his treasureturnedmehardandbitter. Icastmyfirelock betweenhislegsasheracedpast,andherolledtwice overlikeashotrabbit. Erehecouldstaggertohisfeet the Sikh was upon him, and buried his knife twice inhisside. Themanneverutteredmoannormoved muscle, but lay were he had fallen. I think myself thathemayhavebrokenhisneckwiththefall. You see,gentlemen,thatIamkeepingmypromise. Iam tellingyoueveryworkofthebusinessjustexactlyas ithappened,whetheritisinmyfavorornot.” Hestopped,andheldouthismanacledhandsfor thewhiskey-and-waterwhichHolmeshadbrewedfor him. Formyself,IconfessthatIhadnowconceived theutmosthorroroftheman,notonlyforthiscold- blooded business in which he had been concerned, butevenmoreforthesomewhatflippantandcareless way in which he narrated it. Whatever punishment was in store for him, I felt that he might expect no sympathy from me. Sherlock Holmes and Jones sat withtheirhandsupontheirknees,deeplyinterested inthestory,butwiththesamedisgustwrittenupon their faces. He may have observed it, for there was a touch of defiance in his voice and manner as he proceeded.</s>“Itwasallverybad,nodoubt,”saidhe. “Ishould like to know how many fellows in my shoes would have refused a share of this loot when they knew thattheywouldhavetheirthroatscutfortheirpains.</s>Besides, it was my life or his when once he was in thefort. Ifhehadgotout,thewholebusinesswould cometolight,andIshouldhavebeencourt-martialled and shot as likely as not; for people were not very lenientatatimelikethat.” “Goonwithyourstory,”saidHolmes,shortly.</s>“Well,wecarriedhimin,Abdullah,Akbar,andI.</s>Afineweighthewas,too,forallthathewassoshort.</s>MahometSinghwaslefttoguardthedoor. WetookhimtoaplacewhichtheSikhshadalreadyprepared.</s>It was some distance off, where a winding passage leadstoagreatemptyhall,thebrickwallsofwhich wereallcrumblingtopieces. Theearthfloorhadsunk in at one place, making a natural grave, so we left Achmetthemerchantthere,havingfirstcoveredhim overwithloosebricks. Thisdone,weallwentbackto thetreasure.</s>“It lay where he had dropped it when he was firstattacked. Theboxwasthesamewhichnowlies open upon your table. A key was hung by a silken cordtothatcarvedhandleuponthetop. Weopened it, and the light of the lantern gleamed upon a col- lection of gems such as I have read of and thought aboutwhenIwasalittleladatPershore. Itwasblind- ing to look upon them. When we had feasted our eyes we took them all out and made a list of them.</s>Therewereonehundredandforty-threediamondsof thefirstwater,includingonewhichhasbeencalled, I believe, ‘the Great Mogul’ and is said to be the second largest stone in existence. Then there were ninety-seven very fine emeralds, and one hundred and seventy rubies, some of which, however, were small. Therewerefortycarbuncles,twohundredand tensapphires,sixty-oneagates,andagreatquantity of beryls, onyxes, cats’-eyes, turquoises, and other stones,theverynamesofwhichIdidnotknowatthe time,thoughIhavebecomemorefamiliarwiththem since. Besidesthis,therewerenearlythreehundred very fine pearls, twelve of which were set in a gold coronet. Bytheway,theselasthadbeentakenoutof thechestandwerenottherewhenIrecoveredit.</s>“Afterwehadcountedourtreasuresweputthem backintothechestandcarriedthemtothegate-way toshowthemtoMahometSingh. Thenwesolemnly renewedouroathtostandbyeachotherandbetrue tooursecret. Weagreedtoconcealourlootinasafe placeuntilthecountryshouldbeatpeaceagain,and thentodivideitequallyamongourselves. Therewas nousedividingitatpresent,forifgemsofsuchvalue were found upon us it would cause suspicion, and therewasnoprivacyinthefortnoranyplacewhere we could keep them. We carried the box, therefore, into the same hall where we had buried the body, andthere,undercertainbricksinthebest-preserved wall, we made a hollow and put our treasure. We madecarefulnoteoftheplace,andnextdayIdrew fourplans,oneforeachofus,andputthesignofthe four of us at the bottom, for we had sworn that we shouldeachalwaysactforall,sothatnonemighttake advantage. ThatisanoaththatIcanputmyhandto myheartandswearthatIhaveneverbroken.</s>“Well, there’s no use my telling you gentlemen what came of the Indian mutiny. After Wilson took DelhiandSirColinrelievedLucknowthebackofthe businesswasbroken. Freshtroopscamepouringin, and Nana Sahib made himself scarce over the fron- tier. AflyingcolumnunderColonelGreathedcame roundtoAgraandclearedthePandiesawayfromit.</s>Peace seemed to be settling upon the country, and wefourwerebeginningtohopethatthetimewasat handwhenwemightsafelygooffwithoursharesof theplunder. Inamoment,however,ourhopeswere shattered by our being arrested as the murderers of Achmet.</s>“Itcameaboutinthisway. Whentherajahputhis jewelsintothehandsofAchmethediditbecausehe knewthathewasatrustyman. Theyaresuspicious folkintheEast,however: sowhatdoesthisrajahdo but take a second even more trusty servant and set himtoplaythespyuponthefirst? Thissecondman wasorderednevertoletAchmetoutofhissight,and hefollowedhimlikehisshadow. Hewentafterhim that night and saw him pass through the doorway.</s>Ofcoursehethoughthehadtakenrefugeinthefort, andappliedforadmissiontherehimselfnextday,but couldfindnotraceofAchmet. Thisseemedtohimso strangethathespokeaboutittoasergeantofguides, who brought it to the ears of the commandant. A thoroughsearchwasquicklymade,andthebodywas discovered. Thusattheverymomentthatwethought thatallwassafewewereallfourseizedandbrought to trial on a charge of murder,—three of us because we had held the gate that night, and the fourth be- cause he was known to have been in the company of the murdered man. Not a word about the jewels cameoutatthetrial,fortherajahhadbeendeposed anddrivenoutofIndia: sonoonehadanyparticular interest in them. The murder, however, was clearly made out, and it was certain that we must all have beenconcernedinit. ThethreeSikhsgotpenalservi- tudeforlife,andIwascondemnedtodeath,though mysentencewasafterwardscommutedintothesame astheothers.</s>“Itwasratheraqueerpositionthatwefoundour- selvesinthen. Therewewereallfourtiedbytheleg and with precious little chance of ever getting out again,whileweeachheldasecretwhichmighthave puteachofusinapalaceifwecouldonlyhavemade useofit. Itwasenoughtomakeamaneathisheart out to have to stand the kick and the cuff of every petty jack-in-office, to have rice to eat and water to drink,whenthatgorgeousfortunewasreadyforhim outside, just waiting to be picked up. It might havedriven me mad; but I was always a pretty stubborn one,soIjustheldonandbidedmytime.</s>“At last it seemed to me to have come. I was changedfromAgratoMadras,andfromtheretoBlair Island in the Andamans. There are very few white convictsatthissettlement,and,asIhadbehavedwell fromthefirst,Isoonfoundmyselfasortofprivileged person. IwasgivenahutinHopeTown,whichisa smallplaceontheslopesofMountHarriet,andIwas leftprettymuchtomyself. Itisadreary,fever-stricken place,andallbeyondourlittleclearingswasinfested withwildcannibalnatives,whowerereadyenough to blow a poisoned dart at us if they saw a chance.</s>Therewasdigging,andditching,andyam-planting, andadozenotherthingstobedone,sowewerebusy enough all day; though in the evening we had a lit- tletimetoourselves. Amongotherthings,Ilearned to dispense drugs for the surgeon, and picked up a smattering of his knowledge. All the time I was on thelookoutforachanceofescape;butitishundreds ofmilesfromanyotherland,andthereislittleorno windinthoseseas: soitwasaterriblydifficultjobto getaway.</s>“The surgeon, Dr. Somerton, was a fast, sport- ingyoungchap,andtheotheryoungofficerswould meetinhisroomsofaneveningandplaycards. The surgery,whereIusedtomakeupmydrugs,wasnext tohissitting-room,withasmallwindowbetweenus.</s>Often,ifIfeltlonesome,Iusedtoturnoutthelamp inthesurgery,andthen,standingthere,Icouldhear their talk and watch their play. I am fond of a hand atcardsmyself,anditwasalmostasgoodashaving onetowatchtheothers. TherewasMajorSholto,Cap- tain Morstan, and Lieutenant Bromley Brown, who wereincommandofthenativetroops,andtherewas thesurgeonhimself,andtwoorthreeprison-officials, craftyoldhandswhoplayedaniceslysafegame. A verysnuglittlepartytheyusedtomake.</s>“Well,therewasonethingwhichverysoonstruck me, and that was that the soldiers used always to lose and the civilians to win. Mind, I don’t say that therewasanythingunfair,butsoitwas. Theseprison- chapshaddonelittleelsethanplaycardseversince theyhadbeenattheAndamans,andtheykneweach other’sgametoapoint,whiletheothersjustplayed topassthetimeandthrewtheircardsdownanyhow.</s>Nightafternightthesoldiersgotuppoorermen,and thepoorertheygotthemorekeentheyweretoplay.</s>MajorSholtowasthehardesthit. Heusedtopayin notes and gold at first, but soon it came to notes of handandforbigsums. Hesometimeswouldwinfor afewdeals,justtogivehimheart,andthentheluck wouldsetinagainsthimworsethanever. Alldayhe wouldwanderaboutasblackasthunder,andhetook todrinkingadealmorethanwasgoodforhim.</s>“Onenighthelostevenmoreheavilythanusual.</s>IwassittinginmyhutwhenheandCaptainMorstan came stumbling along on the way to their quarters.</s>They were bosom friends, those two, and never far apart. Themajorwasravingabouthislosses.</s>“‘It’s all up, Morstan,’ he was saying, as they passedmyhut. ‘Ishallhavetosendinmypapers. I amaruinedman.’ “‘Nonsense, old chap!’ said the other, slapping himupontheshoulder. ‘I’vehadanastyfacermyself, but—’ThatwasallIcouldhear,butitwasenoughto setmethinking.</s>AcoupleofdayslaterMajorSholtowasstrolling onthebeach: soItookthechanceofspeakingtohim.</s>“‘Iwishtohaveyouradvice,major,’saidI.</s>“‘Well, Small, what is it?’ he asked, taking his cherootfromhislips.</s>“‘I wanted to ask you, sir,’ said I, ‘who is the proper person to whom hidden treasure should be handedover. Iknowwherehalfamillionworthlies, and,asIcannotuseitmyself,Ithoughtperhapsthe bestthingthatIcoulddowouldbetohanditoverto theproperauthorities,andthenperhapstheywould getmysentenceshortenedforme.’ “‘Halfamillion,Small?’ hegasped,lookinghard atmetoseeifIwasinearnest.</s>“‘Quitethat,sir,—injewelsandpearls. Itliesthere readyforanyone. Andthequeerthingaboutitisthat therealownerisoutlawedandcannotholdproperty, sothatitbelongstothefirstcomer.’ “‘Togovernment,Small,’hestammered,—‘togov- ernment.’ But he said it in a halting fashion, and I knewinmyheartthatIhadgothim.</s>“‘Youthink,then,sir,thatIshouldgivetheinfor- mationtotheGovernor-General?’ saidI,quietly.</s>“‘Well, well, you must not do anything rash, or thatyoumightrepent. Letmehearallaboutit,Small.</s>Givemethefacts.’ “I told him the whole story, with small changes sothathecouldnotidentifytheplaces. WhenIhad finished he stood stock still and full of thought. I could see by the twitch of his lip that there was a strugglegoingonwithinhim.</s>“‘Thisisaveryimportantmatter,Small,’hesaid, atlast. ‘Youmustnotsayawordtoanyoneaboutit, andIshallseeyouagainsoon.’“Two nights later he and his friend Captain Morstan came to my hut in the dead of the night withalantern.</s>“‘IwantyoujusttoletCaptainMorstanhearthat storyfromyourownlips,Small,’saidhe.</s>“IrepeateditasIhadtolditbefore.</s>“‘Itringstrue,eh?’ saidhe. ‘It’sgoodenoughto actupon?’ “CaptainMorstannodded.</s>“‘Lookhere,Small,’saidthemajor. ‘Wehavebeen talking it over, my friend here and I, and we have come to the conclusion that this secret of yours is hardlyagovernmentmatter,afterall,butisaprivate concern of your own, which of course you have the power of disposing of as you think best. Now, the question is, what price would you ask for it? We mightbeinclinedtotakeitup,andatleastlookinto it,ifwecouldagreeastoterms.’ Hetriedtospeakin a cool, careless way, but his eyes were shining with excitementandgreed.</s>“‘Why,astothat,gentlemen,’Ianswered,trying alsotobecool,butfeelingasexcitedashedid,‘there isonlyonebargainwhichamaninmypositioncan make. I shall want you to help me to my freedom, andtohelpmythreecompanionstotheirs. Weshall then take yo into partnership, and give you a fifth sharetodividebetweenyou.’ “‘Hum!’ saidhe. ‘Afifthshare! Thatisnotvery tempting.’ “‘Itwouldcometofiftythousandapiece,’saidI.</s>“‘Buthowcanwegainyourfreedom? Youknow verywellthatyouaskanimpossibility.’ “‘Nothingofthesort,’Ianswered. ‘Ihavethought itallouttothelastdetail. Theonlybartoourescape is that we can get no boat fit for the voyage, and no provisions to last us for so long a time. There are plentyoflittleyachtsandyawlsatCalcuttaorMadras whichwouldserveourturnwell. Doyoubringone over. Weshallengagetogetaboardherbynight,and if you will drop us on any part of the Indian coast youwillhavedoneyourpartofthebargain.’ “‘Iftherewereonlyone,’hesaid.</s>“‘Noneorall,’Ianswered. ‘Wehaveswornit. The fourofusmustalwaysacttogether.’ “‘You see, Morstan,’ said he, ‘Small is a man of hisword. Hedoesnotflinchfromhisfriend. Ithink wemayverywelltrusthim.’ “‘It’s a dirty business,’ the other answered. ‘Yet, as you say, the money would save our commissions handsomely.’ “‘Well,Small,’saidthemajor,‘wemust,Isuppose, try and meet you. We must first, of course, test the truthofyourstory. Tellmewheretheboxishid,and IshallgetleaveofabsenceandgobacktoIndiainthe monthlyrelief-boattoinquireintotheaffair.’ “‘Notsofast,’saidI,growingcolderashegothot.</s>‘Imusthavetheconsentofmythreecomrades. Itell youthatitisfourornonewithus.’ “‘Nonsense!’ hebrokein. ‘Whathavethreeblack fellowstodowithouragreement?’ “‘Blackorblue,’saidI,‘theyareinwithme,and weallgotogether.’ “Well, the matter ended by a second meeting, at whichMahometSingh,AbdullahKhan,andDostAk- barwereallpresent. Wetalkedthematteroveragain, and at last we came to an arrangement. We were to provideboththeofficerswithchartsofthepartofthe Agra fort and mark the place in the wall where the treasurewashid. MajorSholtowastogotoIndiato testourstory. Ifhefoundtheboxhewastoleaveit there,tosendoutasmallyachtprovisionedforavoy- age,whichwastolieoffRutlandIsland,andtowhich weweretomakeourway,andfinallytoreturntohis duties. CaptainMorstanwasthentoapplyforleave of absence, to meet us at Agra, and there we were tohaveafinaldivisionofthetreasure,hetakingthe major’s share as well as his own. All this we sealed bythemostsolemnoathsthatthemindcouldthink orthelipsutter. Isatupallnightwithpaperandink, and by the morning I had the two charts all ready, signed with the sign of four,—that is, of Abdullah, Akbar,Mahomet,andmyself.</s>“Well,gentlemen,Iwearyyouwithmylongstory, andIknowthatmyfriendMr.Jonesisimpatientto getmesafelystowedinchokey. I’llmakeitasshort asIcan. ThevillainSholtowentofftoIndia,buthe nevercamebackagain. CaptainMorstanshowedme his name among a list of passengers in one of the mail-boats very shortly afterwards. His uncle had died,leavinghimafortune,andhehadleftthearmy, yethecouldstooptotreatfivemenashehadtreated us. Morstan went over to Agra shortly afterwards, andfound,asweexpected,thatthetreasurewasin- deed gone. The scoundrel had stolen it all, without carryingoutoneoftheconditionsonwhichwehad sold him the secret. From that day I lived only for vengeance. IthoughtofitbydayandInurseditby night. Itbecameanoverpowering,absorbingpassion with me. I cared nothing for the law,—nothing for thegallows. Toescape,totrackdownSholto,tohave myhanduponhisthroat,—thatwasmyonethought.EventheAgratreasurehadcometobeasmallerthing inmymindthantheslayingofSholto.</s>“Well,Ihavesetmymindonmanythingsinthis life, and never one which I did not carry out. But it was weary years before my time came. I have told youthatIhadpickedupsomethingofmedicine. One daywhenDr.Somertonwasdownwithafeveralittle AndamanIslanderwaspickedupbyaconvict-gang in the woods. He was sick to death, and had gone to a lonely place to die. I took him in hand, though he was as venomous as a young snake, and after a coupleofmonthsIgothimallrightandabletowalk.</s>Hetookakindoffancytomethen,andwouldhardly gobacktohiswoods,butwasalwayshangingabout myhut. Ilearnedalittleofhislingofromhim, and thismadehimallthefonderofme.</s>“Tonga—forthatwashisname—wasafineboat- man, and owned a big, roomy canoe of his own.</s>WhenIfoundthathewasdevotedtomeandwould doanythingtoserveme,Isawmychanceofescape.</s>I talked it over with him. He was to bring his boat roundonacertainnighttoanoldwharfwhichwas never guarded, and there he was to pick me up. I gavehimdirectionstohaveseveralgourdsofwater andalotofyams,cocoa-nuts,andsweetpotatoes.</s>“He was stanch and true, was little Tonga. No man ever had a more faithful mate. At the night named he had his boat at the wharf. As it chanced, however, there was one of the convict-guard down there,—avilePathanwhohadnevermissedachance of insulting and injuring me. I had always vowed vengeance,andnowIhadmychance. Itwasasiffate hadplacedhiminmywaythatImightpaymydebt beforeIlefttheisland. Hestoodonthebankwithhis backtome,andhiscarbineonhisshoulder. Ilooked aboutforastonetobeatouthisbrainswith,butnone couldIsee.</s>“Then a queer thought came into my head and showedmewhereIcouldlaymyhandonaweapon. I satdowninthedarknessandunstrappedmywooden leg. With three long hops I was on him. He put his carbine to his shoulder, but I struck him full, and knockedthewholefrontofhisskullin. Youcansee thesplitinthewoodnowwhereIhithim. Weboth wentdowntogether,forIcouldnotkeepmybalance, butwhenIgotupIfoundhimstilllyingquietenough.</s>Imadefortheboat,andinanhourwewerewellout atsea. Tongahadbroughtallhisearthlypossessions withhim,hisarmsandhisgods. Amongotherthings, he had a long bamboo spear, and some Andaman cocoa-nut matting, with which I made a sort of sail.</s>Fortendayswewerebeatingabout,trustingtoluck, and on the eleventh we were picked up by a trader which was going from Singapore to Jiddah with a cargo of Malay pilgrims. They were a rum crowd, andTongaandIsoonmanagedtosettledownamong them. Theyhadoneverygoodquality: theyletyou aloneandaskednoquestions.</s>“Well,ifIweretotellyoualltheadventuresthat my little chum and I went through, you would not thankme,forIwouldhaveyouhereuntilthesunwas shining. Hereandtherewedriftedabouttheworld, somethingalwaysturninguptokeepusfromLondon.</s>All the time, however, I never lost sight of my pur- pose. I would dream of Sholto at night. A hundred timesIhavekilledhiminmysleep. Atlast,however, somethreeorfouryearsago,wefoundourselvesin England. I had no great difficulty in finding where Sholtolived,andIsettoworktodiscoverwhetherhe hadrealizedthetreasure,orifhestillhadit. Imade friends with someone who could help me,—I name no names, for I don’t want to get any one else in a hole,—and I soon found that he still had the jewels.</s>ThenItriedtogetathiminmanyways;buthewas prettysly,andhadalwaystwoprize-fighters,besides hissonsandhiskhitmutgar,onguardoverhim.</s>“Oneday,however,Igotwordthathewasdying.</s>I hurried at once to the garden, mad that he should slipoutofmyclutcheslikethat,and,lookingthrough the window, I saw him lying in his bed, with his sonsoneachsideofhim. I’dhavecomethroughand taken my chance with the three of them, only even asIlookedathimhisjawdropped,andIknewthat he was gone. I got into his room that same night, though,andIsearchedhispaperstoseeiftherewas anyrecordofwherehehadhiddenourjewels. There was not a line, however: so I came away, bitter and savage as a man could be. Before I left I bethought methatifIevermetmySikhfriendsagainitwould beasatisfactiontoknowthatIhadleftsomemarkof our hatred: so I scrawled down the sign of the four ofus,asithadbeenonthechart,andIpinnediton hisbosom. Itwastoomuchthatheshouldbetaken tothegravewithoutsometokenfromthemenwhom hehadrobbedandbefooled.</s>“We earned a living at this time by my exhibit- ingpoorTongaatfairsandothersuchplacesasthe black cannibal. He would eat raw meat and dance hiswar-dance: sowealwayshadahatfulofpennies after a day’s work. I still heard all the news from Pondicherry Lodge, and for some years there was no news to hear, except that they were hunting for the treasure. At last, however, came what we had waited for so long. The treasure had been found. Itwasupatthetopofthehouse, inMr.Bartholomew Sholto’schemicallaboratory. Icameatonceandhad a look at the place, but I could not see how with my wooden leg I was to make my way up to it. I learned,however,aboutatrap-doorintheroof,and alsoaboutMr.Sholto’ssupper-hour. Itseemedtome thatIcouldmanagethethingeasilythroughTonga.</s>Ibroughthimoutwithmewithalongropewound round his waist. He could climb like a cat, and he soonmadehiswaythroughtheroof,but,asillluck would have it, Bartholomew Sholto was still in the room,tohiscost. Tongathoughthehaddonesome- thingverycleverinkillinghim,forwhenIcameup bytheropeIfoundhimstruttingaboutasproudasa peacock. VerymuchsurprisedwashewhenImade athimwiththerope’sendandcursedhimforalittle blood-thirsty imp. I took the treasure-box and let it down, and then slid down myself, having first left thesignofthefouruponthetable,toshowthatthe jewelshadcomebackatlasttothosewhohadmost righttothem. Tongathenpulleduptherope,closed thewindow,andmadeoffthewaythathehadcome.</s>“Idon’tknowthatIhaveanythingelsetotellyou.</s>IhadheardawatermanspeakofthespeedofSmith’s launch,theAurora,soIthoughtshewouldbeahandy craft for our escape. I engaged with old Smith, and was to give him a big sum if he got us safe to our ship. Heknew,nodoubt,thattherewassomescrew loose, but he was not in our secrets. All this is the truth, and if I tell it to you, gentlemen, it is not to amuseyou,—foryouhavenotdonemeaverygood turn,—but it is because I believe the best defence I canmakeisjusttoholdbacknothing,butletallthe worldknowhowbadlyIhavemyselfbeenservedby MajorSholto,andhowinnocentIamofthedeathof hisson.” “A very remarkable account,” said Sherlock Holmes. “A fitting wind-up to an extremely inter- estingcase. Thereisnothingatallnewtomeinthe latterpartofyournarrative,exceptthatyoubrought your own rope. That I did not know. By the way, I had hoped that Tonga had lost all his darts; yet he managedtoshootoneatusintheboat.” “He had lost them all, sir, except the one which wasinhisblow-pipeatthetime.” “Ah,ofcourse,”saidHolmes. “Ihadnotthought ofthat.” “Isthereanyotherpointwhichyouwouldliketo askabout?”askedtheconvict,affably.</s>“Ithinknot,thankyou,”mycompanionanswered.</s>“Well,Holmes,”saidAthelneyJones,“Youarea man to be humored, and we all know that you are a connoisseurof crime, but duty isduty, andI have gone rather far in doing what you and your friend asked me. I shall feel more at ease when we have ourstory-tellerheresafeunderlockandkey. Thecab stillwaits,andtherearetwoinspectorsdown-stairs. I ammuchobligedtoyoubothforyourassistance. Of courseyouwillbewantedatthetrial. Good-nightto you.” “Good-night, gentlemen both,” said Jonathan Small.</s>“You first, Small,” remarked the wary Jones as theylefttheroom. “I’lltakeparticularcarethatyou don’t club me with your wooden leg, whatever you may have done to the gentleman at the Andaman Isles.” “Well, and there is the end of our little drama,” I remarked, after we had set some time smoking in silence. “I fear that it may be the last investigation in which I shall have the chance of studying your methods. Miss Morstan has done me the honor to acceptmeasahusbandinprospective.” Hegaveamostdismalgroan. “Ifearedasmuch,” saidhe. “Ireallycannotcongratulateyou.” I was a little hurt. “Have you any reason to be dissatisfiedwithmychoice?”Iasked.</s>“Notatall. Ithinksheisoneofthemostcharming young ladies I ever met, and might have been most usefulinsuchworkaswehavebeendoing. Shehad adecidedgeniusthatway: witnessthewayinwhich she preserved that Agra plan from all the other pa- persofherfather. Butloveisanemotionalthing,and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true cold reasonwhichIplaceaboveallthings. Ishouldnever marrymyself,lestIbiasmyjudgment.” “Itrust,”saidI,laughing,“thatmyjudgmentmay survivetheordeal. Butyoulookweary.” “Yes, the reaction is already upon me. I shall be aslimpasaragforaweek.” “Strange,”saidI,“howtermsofwhatinanother manIshouldcalllazinessalternatewithyourfitsof splendidenergyandvigor.” “Yes,”heanswered,“thereareinmethemakings ofaveryfineloaferandalsoofaprettysprysortof fellow. IoftenthinkofthoselinesofoldGoethe,— Schade,daßdieNaturnur einenMenschausDirschuf, Dennzumwu¨rdigenMannwar undzumSchelmenderStoff.“Bytheway,aproposofthisNorwoodbusiness, youseethattheyhad,asIsurmised,aconfederatein thehouse,whocouldbenoneotherthanLalRao,the butler: soJonesactuallyhastheundividedhonorof havingcaughtonefishinhisgreathaul.” “The division seems rather unfair,” I remarked.</s>“Youhavedonealltheworkinthisbusiness. Igeta wifeoutofit,Jonesgetsthecredit,praywhatremains foryou?” “For me,” said Sherlock Holmes, “there still re- mainsthecocaine-bottle.”Andhestretchedhislong whitehandupforit.Table of Chapter1............................</s>Chapter2............................</s>Chapter3............................</s>contents ................................. 123 ................................. 127 ................................. 132CHAP o Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I have seldom heard him men- tionherunderanyothername. Inhiseyes T she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirablybalancedmind. Hewas,Itakeit,themost perfect reasoning and observing machine that the worldhasseen,butasaloverhewouldhaveplaced himself in a false position. He never spoke of the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer. They wereadmirablethingsfortheobserver—excellentfor drawingtheveilfrommen’smotivesandactions. But forthetrainedreasonertoadmitsuchintrusionsinto hisowndelicateandfinelyadjustedtemperamentwas tointroduceadistractingfactorwhichmightthrowa doubtuponallhismentalresults. Gritinasensitive instrument,oracrackinoneofhisownhigh-power lenses, would not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a nature such as his. And yet there was butonewomantohim,andthatwomanwasthelate IreneAdler,ofdubiousandquestionablememory.</s>IhadseenlittleofHolmeslately. Mymarriagehad drifted us away from each other. My own complete happiness,andthehome-centredinterestswhichrise uparoundthemanwhofirstfindshimselfmasterof his own establishment, were sufficient to absorb all myattention,whileHolmes,wholoathedeveryform of society with his whole Bohemian soul, remained inourlodgingsinBakerStreet,buriedamonghisold books, and alternating from week to week between cocaine and ambition, the drowsiness of the drug, andthefierceenergyofhisownkeennature. Hewas still, as ever, deeply attracted by the study of crime, andoccupiedhisimmensefacultiesandextraordinary powers of observation in following out those clues, andclearingupthosemysterieswhichhadbeenaban- doned as hopeless by the official police. From time to time I heard some vague account of his doings: ofhissummonstoOdessainthecaseoftheTrepoff murder,ofhisclearingupofthesingulartragedyof theAtkinsonbrothersatTrincomalee,andfinallyof themissionwhichhehadaccomplishedsodelicately and successfully for the reigning family of Holland.</s>Beyond these signs of his activity, however, which I merelysharedwithallthereadersofthedailypress, Iknewlittleofmyformerfriendandcompanion.</s>One night—it was on the twentieth of March, 1888—I was returning from a journey to a patient PTER I.</s>(for I had now returned to civil practice), when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembereddoor,whichmustalwaysbeassoci- atedinmymindwithmywooing,andwiththedark incidentsoftheStudyinScarlet,Iwasseizedwitha keendesiretoseeHolmesagain,andtoknowhowhe wasemployinghisextraordinarypowers. Hisrooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the blind. He was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head sunk upon his chest and his hands clasped behind him. To me, who knew his everymoodandhabit,hisattitudeandmannertold theirownstory. Hewasatworkagain. Hehadrisen outofhisdrug-createddreamsandwashotuponthe scentofsomenewproblem. Irangthebellandwas shownuptothechamberwhichhadformerlybeen inpartmyown.</s>Hismannerwasnoteffusive. Itseldomwas;but hewasglad, Ithink, toseeme. Withhardlyaword spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars, and indi- catedaspiritcaseandagasogeneinthecorner. Then he stood before the fire and looked me over in his singularintrospectivefashion.</s>“Wedlocksuitsyou,”heremarked. “Ithink,Wat- son, that you have put on seven and a half pounds sinceIsawyou.” “Seven!”Ianswered.</s>“Indeed,Ishouldhavethoughtalittlemore. Just atriflemore,Ifancy,Watson. Andinpracticeagain,I observe. Youdidnottellmethatyouintendedtogo intoharness.” “Then,howdoyouknow?” “I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you have been getting yourself very wet lately, and that youhaveamostclumsyandcarelessservantgirl?” “MydearHolmes,”saidI,“thisistoomuch. You would certainly have been burned, had you lived a fewcenturiesago. ItistruethatIhadacountrywalk onThursdayandcamehomeinadreadfulmess,but asIhavechangedmyclothesIcan’timaginehowyou deduce it. As to Mary Jane, she is incorrigible, and mywifehasgivenhernotice,butthere,again,Ifail toseehowyouworkitout.” Hechuckledtohimselfandrubbedhislong,ner- voushandstogether.</s>“Itissimplicityitself,”saidhe; “myeyestellme that on the inside of your left shoe, just where the firelightstrikesit,theleatherisscoredbysixalmostparallel cuts. Obviously they have been caused by someonewhohasverycarelesslyscrapedroundthe edges of the sole in order to remove crusted mud from it. Hence, you see, my double deduction that youhadbeenoutinvileweather,andthatyouhada particularly malignant boot-slitting specimen of the London slavey. As to your practice, if a gentleman walks into my rooms smelling of iodoform, with a blackmarkofnitrateofsilveruponhisrightforefin- ger, and a bulge on the right side of his top-hat to show where he has secreted his stethoscope, I must be dull, indeed, if I do not pronounce him to be an activememberofthemedicalprofession.” Icouldnothelplaughingattheeasewithwhich heexplainedhisprocessofdeduction. “WhenIhear yougiveyourreasons,”Iremarked,“thethingalways appearstometobesoridiculouslysimplethatIcould easilydoitmyself,thoughateachsuccessiveinstance ofyourreasoningIambaffleduntilyouexplainyour process. And yet I believe that my eyes are as good asyours.” “Quiteso,”heanswered,lightingacigarette,and throwing himself down into an armchair. “You see, butyoudonotobserve. Thedistinctionisclear. For example, you have frequently seen the steps which leadupfromthehalltothisroom.” “Frequently.” “Howoften?” “Well,somehundredsoftimes.” “Thenhowmanyarethere?” “Howmany? Idon’tknow.” “Quite so! You have not observed. And yet you have seen. That is just my point. Now, I know that there are seventeen steps, because I have both seen andobserved. By-the-way,sinceyouareinterestedin theselittleproblems,andsinceyouaregoodenough tochronicleoneortwoofmytriflingexperiences,you maybeinterestedinthis.”Hethrewoverasheetof thick, pink-tinted note-paper which had been lying openuponthetable. “Itcamebythelastpost,”said he. “Readitaloud.” Thenotewasundated,andwithouteithersigna- tureoraddress.</s>“Therewillcalluponyouto-night,ataquarterto eight o’clock,” it said, “a gentleman who desires to consult you upon a matter of the very deepest mo- ment. Yourrecentservicestooneoftheroyalhouses of Europe have shown that you are one who may safelybetrustedwithmatterswhichareofanimpor- tancewhichcanhardlybeexaggerated. Thisaccount ofyouwehavefromallquartersreceived. Beinyour chamberthenatthathour,anddonottakeitamissif yourvisitorwearamask.” “Thisisindeedamystery,”Iremarked. “Whatdo youimaginethatitmeans?” “Ihavenodatayet. Itisacapitalmistaketothe- orize before one has data. Insensibly one begins to twistfactstosuittheories,insteadoftheoriestosuit facts. But the note itself. What do you deduce from it?” I carefully examined the writing, and the paper uponwhichitwaswritten.</s>“The man who wrote it was presumably well to do,” I remarked, endeavouring to imitate my com- panion’sprocesses. “Suchpapercouldnotbebought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly strong andstiff.” “Peculiar—that is the very word,” said Holmes.</s>“It is not an English paper at all. Hold it up to the light.” Ididso,andsawalarge“E”withasmall“g,”a “P,”andalarge“G”withasmall“t”wovenintothe textureofthepaper.</s>“Whatdoyoumakeofthat?”askedHolmes.</s>“The name of the maker, no doubt; or his mono- gram,rather.” “Not at all. The ‘G’ with the small ‘t’ stands for ‘Gesellschaft,’ which is the German for ‘Company.’ It is a customary contraction like our ‘Co.’ ‘P,’ of course, stands for ‘Papier.’ Now for the ‘Eg.’ Let us glanceatourContinentalGazetteer.”Hetookdown a heavy brown volume from his shelves. “Eglow, Eglonitz—here we are, Egria. It is in a German- speaking country—in Bohemia, not far from Carls- bad. ‘Remarkableasbeingthesceneofthedeathof Wallenstein,andforitsnumerousglass-factoriesand paper-mills.’ Ha, ha, my boy, what do you make of that?”Hiseyessparkled,andhesentupagreatblue triumphantcloudfromhiscigarette.</s>“ThepaperwasmadeinBohemia,”Isaid.</s>“Precisely. And the man who wrote the note is aGerman. Doyounotethepeculiarconstructionof thesentence—‘Thisaccountofyouwehavefromall quarters received.’ A Frenchman or Russian could nothavewrittenthat. ItistheGermanwhoissoun- courteoustohisverbs. Itonlyremains,therefore,to discoverwhatiswantedbythisGermanwhowrites upon Bohemian paper and prefers wearing a mask toshowinghisface. Andherehecomes,ifIamnot mistaken,toresolveallourdoubts.”Ashespoketherewasthesharpsoundofhorses’ hoofsandgratingwheelsagainstthecurb,followed byasharppullatthebell. Holmeswhistled.</s>“A pair, by the sound,” said he. “Yes,” he con- tinued, glancing out of the window. “A nice little broughamandapairofbeauties. Ahundredandfifty guineasapiece. There’smoneyinthiscase,Watson,if thereisnothingelse.” “IthinkthatIhadbettergo,Holmes.” “Not a bit, Doctor. Stay where you are. I am lost without my Boswell. And this promises to be interesting. Itwouldbeapitytomissit.” “Butyourclient—” “Nevermindhim. Imaywantyourhelp,andso may he. Here he comes. Sit down in that armchair, Doctor,andgiveusyourbestattention.” A slow and heavy step, which had been heard upon the stairs and in the passage, paused immedi- ately outside the door. Then there was a loud and authoritativetap.</s>“Comein!”saidHolmes.</s>Amanenteredwhocouldhardlyhavebeenless thansixfeetsixinchesinheight,withthechestand limbsofaHercules. Hisdresswasrichwitharichness whichwould,inEngland,belookeduponasakinto bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were slashed across the sleeves and fronts of his double-breasted coat, while the deep blue cloak which was thrown over his shoulders was lined with flame-coloured silkandsecuredattheneckwithabroochwhichcon- sistedofasingleflamingberyl. Bootswhichextended halfway up his calves, and which were trimmed at thetopswithrichbrownfur,completedtheimpres- sionofbarbaricopulencewhichwassuggestedbyhis wholeappearance. Hecarriedabroad-brimmedhat in his hand, while he wore across the upper part of hisface,extendingdownpastthecheekbones,ablack vizardmask,whichhehadapparentlyadjustedthat verymoment,forhishandwasstillraisedtoitashe entered. Fromthelowerpartofthefaceheappeared tobeamanofstrongcharacter,withathick,hanging lip,andalong,straightchinsuggestiveofresolution pushedtothelengthofobstinacy.</s>“Youhadmynote?”heaskedwithadeepharsh voiceandastronglymarkedGermanaccent. “Itold you that I would call.” He looked from one to the otherofus,asifuncertainwhichtoaddress.</s>“Praytakeaseat,”saidHolmes. “Thisismyfriend andcolleague,Dr.Watson,whoisoccasionallygood enough to help me in my cases. Whom have I the honourtoaddress?” “YoumayaddressmeastheCountVonKramm, aBohemiannobleman. Iunderstandthatthisgentle- man,yourfriend,isamanofhonouranddiscretion, whomImaytrustwithamatterofthemostextreme importance. Ifnot,Ishouldmuchprefertocommuni- catewithyoualone.” I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist and pushed me back into my chair. “It is both, or none,”saidhe. “Youmaysaybeforethisgentleman anythingwhichyoumaysaytome.” TheCountshruggedhisbroadshoulders. “ThenI mustbegin,”saidhe,“bybindingyoubothtoabso- lutesecrecyfortwoyears;attheendofthattimethe matterwillbeofnoimportance. Atpresentitisnot toomuchtosaythatitisofsuchweightitmayhave aninfluenceuponEuropeanhistory.” “Ipromise,”saidHolmes.</s>“AndI.” “You will excuse this mask,” continued our strange visitor. “The august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I mayconfessatoncethatthetitlebywhichIhavejust calledmyselfisnotexactlymyown.” “Iwasawareofit,”saidHolmesdryly.</s>“Thecircumstancesareofgreatdelicacy,andev- eryprecautionhastobetakentoquenchwhatmight grow to be an immense scandal and seriously com- promise one of the reigning families of Europe. To speakplainly,thematterimplicatesthegreatHouse ofOrmstein,hereditarykingsofBohemia.” “I was also aware of that,” murmured Holmes, settlinghimselfdowninhisarmchairandclosinghis eyes.</s>Ourvisitorglancedwithsomeapparentsurprise atthelanguid,loungingfigureofthemanwhohad been no doubt depicted to him as the most incisive reasonerandmostenergeticagentinEurope. Holmes slowlyreopenedhiseyesandlookedimpatiently at hisgiganticclient.</s>“IfyourMajestywouldcondescendtostateyour case,”heremarked,“Ishouldbebetterabletoadvise you.” Themansprangfromhischairandpacedupand down the room in uncontrollable agitation. Then, withagestureofdesperation,hetorethemaskfrom his face and hurled it upon the ground. “You are right,” he cried; “I am the King. Why should I at- tempttoconcealit?”“Why, indeed?” murmured Holmes. “Your Majesty had not spoken before I was aware that I was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von Ormstein,GrandDukeofCassel-Felstein,andheredi- taryKingofBohemia.” “Butyoucanunderstand,”saidourstrangevisitor, sittingdownoncemoreandpassinghishandoverhis highwhiteforehead,“youcanunderstandthatIam not accustomed to doing such business in my own person. Yet the matter was so delicate that I could notconfideittoanagentwithoutputtingmyselfin hispower. IhavecomeincognitofromPragueforthe purposeofconsultingyou.” “Then, pray consult,” said Holmes, shutting his eyesoncemore.</s>“Thefactsarebrieflythese: Somefiveyearsago, duringalengthyvisittoWarsaw,Imadetheacquain- tanceofthewell-knownadventuress,IreneAdler. The nameisnodoubtfamiliartoyou.” “Kindly look her up in my index, Doctor,” mur- muredHolmeswithoutopeninghiseyes. Formany yearshehadadoptedasystemofdocketingallpara- graphs concerning men and things, so that it was difficult to name a subject or a person on which he couldnotatoncefurnishinformation. InthiscaseI foundherbiographysandwichedinbetweenthatof aHebrewrabbiandthatofastaff-commanderwho hadwrittenamonographuponthedeep-seafishes.</s>“Let me see!” said Holmes. “Hum! Born in New Jersey in the year 1858. Contralto—hum! La Scala, hum! Prima donna Imperial Opera of War- saw—yes! Retired from operatic stage—ha! Living inLondon—quiteso! YourMajesty,asIunderstand, becameentangledwiththisyoungperson,wroteher some compromising letters, and is now desirous of gettingthoselettersback.” “Preciselyso. Buthow—” “Wasthereasecretmarriage?” “None.” “Nolegalpapersorcertificates?” “None.” “ThenIfailtofollowyourMajesty. Ifthisyoung personshouldproduceherlettersforblackmailingor other purposes, how is she to prove their authentic- ity?” “Thereisthewriting.” “Pooh,pooh! Forgery.” “Myprivatenote-paper.” “Stolen.” “Myownseal.” “Imitated.” “Myphotograph.” “Bought.” “Wewerebothinthephotograph.” “Oh, dear! That is very bad! Your Majesty has indeedcommittedanindiscretion.” “Iwasmad—insane.” “Youhavecompromisedyourselfseriously.” “IwasonlyCrownPrincethen. Iwasyoung. Iam butthirtynow.” “Itmustberecovered.” “Wehavetriedandfailed.” “YourMajestymustpay. Itmustbebought.” “Shewillnotsell.” “Stolen,then.” “Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked her house. Once we diverted herluggagewhenshetravelled. Twiceshehasbeen waylaid. Therehasbeennoresult.” “Nosignofit?” “Absolutelynone.” Holmes laughed. “It is quite a pretty little prob- lem,”saidhe.</s>“Butaveryseriousonetome,”returnedtheKing reproachfully.</s>“Very,indeed. Andwhatdoessheproposetodo withthephotograph?” “Toruinme.” “Buthow?” “Iamabouttobemarried.” “SoIhaveheard.” “ToClotildeLothmanvonSaxe-Meningen,second daughteroftheKingofScandinavia. Youmayknow the strict principles of her family. She is herself the verysoulofdelicacy. Ashadowofadoubtastomy conductwouldbringthemattertoanend.” “AndIreneAdler?” “Threatenstosendthemthephotograph. Andshe willdoit. Iknowthatshewilldoit. Youdonotknow her,butshehasasoulofsteel. Shehasthefaceofthe mostbeautifulofwomen,andthemindofthemost resoluteofmen. RatherthanIshouldmarryanother woman,therearenolengthstowhichshewouldnot go—none.” “Youaresurethatshehasnotsentityet?” “Iamsure.”“Andwhy?” “Because she has said that she would send it on thedaywhenthebetrothalwaspubliclyproclaimed.</s>ThatwillbenextMonday.” “Oh, then we have three days yet,” said Holmes withayawn. “Thatisveryfortunate,asIhaveoneor twomattersofimportancetolookintojustatpresent.</s>Your Majesty will, of course, stay in London for the present?” “Certainly. YouwillfindmeattheLanghamunder thenameoftheCountVonKramm.” “ThenIshalldropyoualinetoletyouknowhow weprogress.” “Praydoso. Ishallbeallanxiety.” “Then,astomoney?” “Youhavecarteblanche.” “Absolutely?” “ItellyouthatIwouldgiveoneoftheprovinces ofmykingdomtohavethatphotograph.” CHAP At three o’clock precisely I was at Baker Street, but Holmes had not yet returned. The landlady in- formed me that he had left the house shortly after eight o’clock in the morning. I sat down beside the fire,however,withtheintentionofawaitinghim,how- ever long he might be. I was already deeply inter- ested in his inquiry, for, though it was surrounded bynoneofthegrimandstrangefeatureswhichwere associatedwiththetwocrimeswhichIhavealready recorded,still,thenatureofthecaseandtheexalted stationofhisclientgaveitacharacterofitsown. In- deed,apartfromthenatureoftheinvestigationwhich my friend had on hand, there was something in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, incisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to study his system of work, and to follow the quick, subtle methodsbywhichhedisentangledthemostinextrica- blemysteries. SoaccustomedwasItohisinvariable success that the very possibility of his failing had ceasedtoenterintomyhead.</s>It was close upon four before the door opened, “Andforpresentexpenses?” TheKingtookaheavychamoisleatherbagfrom underhiscloakandlaiditonthetable.</s>“There are three hundred pounds in gold and sevenhundredinnotes,”hesaid.</s>Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-bookandhandedittohim.</s>“AndMademoiselle’saddress?”heasked.</s>“Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John’s Wood.” Holmes took a note of it. “One other question,” saidhe. “Wasthephotographacabinet?” “Itwas.” “Then,good-night,yourMajesty,andItrustthat we shall soon have some good news for you. And good-night,Watson,”headded,asthewheelsofthe royalbroughamrolleddownthestreet. “Ifyouwill begoodenoughtocallto-morrowafternoonatthree o’clockIshouldliketochatthislittlematteroverwith you.” TER II.</s>and a drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and side- whiskered, with an inflamed face and disreputable clothes,walkedintotheroom. AccustomedasIwas tomyfriend’samazingpowersintheuseofdisguises, I had to look three times before I was certain that it was indeed he. With a nod he vanished into the bedroom,whenceheemergedinfiveminutestweed- suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hands intohispockets,hestretchedouthislegsinfrontof thefireandlaughedheartilyforsomeminutes.</s>“Well, really!”hecried, andthenhe chokedand laughedagainuntilhewasobligedtolieback,limp andhelpless,inthechair.</s>“Whatisit?” “It’s quite too funny. I am sure you could never guesshowIemployedmymorning,orwhatIended bydoing.” “I can’t imagine. I suppose that you have been watchingthehabits,andperhapsthehouse,ofMiss IreneAdler.”“Quite so; but the sequel was rather unusual. I will tell you, however. I left the house a little after eighto’clockthismorninginthecharacterofagroom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy and freemasonryamonghorseymen. Beoneofthem,and youwillknowallthatthereistoknow. Isoonfound BrionyLodge. Itisabijouvilla,withagardenatthe back,butbuiltoutinfrontrightuptotheroad,two stories. Chubb lock to the door. Large sitting-room ontherightside,wellfurnished,withlongwindows almost to the floor, and those preposterous English windowfastenerswhichachildcouldopen. Behind therewasnothingremarkable,savethatthepassage windowcouldbereachedfromthetopofthecoach- house. Iwalkedrounditandexamineditcloselyfrom everypointofview,butwithoutnotinganythingelse ofinterest.</s>“I then lounged down the street and found, as I expected,thattherewasamewsinalanewhichruns down by one wall of the garden. I lent the ostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and received in exchange twopence, a glass of half and half, two fills of shag tobacco, and as much information as I coulddesireaboutMissAdler,tosaynothingofhalfa dozenotherpeopleintheneighbourhoodinwhomI wasnotintheleastinterested,butwhosebiographies Iwascompelledtolistento.” “AndwhatofIreneAdler?”Iasked.</s>“Oh,shehasturnedallthemen’sheadsdownin that part. She is the daintiest thing under a bonnet onthisplanet. SosaytheSerpentine-mews,toaman.</s>Shelivesquietly,singsatconcerts,drivesoutatfive everyday,andreturnsatsevensharpfordinner. Sel- domgoesoutatothertimes,exceptwhenshesings.</s>Has only one male visitor, but a good deal of him.</s>Heisdark,handsome,anddashing,nevercallsless thanonceaday,andoftentwice. HeisaMr.Godfrey Norton,oftheInnerTemple. Seetheadvantagesofa cabman as a confidant. They had driven him home adozentimesfromSerpentine-mews, andknewall abouthim. WhenIhadlistenedtoalltheyhadtotell, IbegantowalkupanddownnearBrionyLodgeonce more,andtothinkovermyplanofcampaign.</s>“ThisGodfreyNortonwasevidentlyanimportant factorinthematter. Hewasalawyer. Thatsounded ominous. Whatwastherelationbetweenthem,and what the object of his repeated visits? Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress? If the former, she hadprobablytransferredthephotographtohiskeep- ing. If the latter, it was less likely. On the issue of this question depended whether I should continue myworkatBrionyLodge,orturnmyattentiontothe gentleman’schambersintheTemple. Itwasadelicate point, and it widened the field of my inquiry. I fear thatIboreyouwiththesedetails,butIhavetoletyou seemylittledifficulties,ifyouaretounderstandthe situation.” “Iamfollowingyouclosely,”Ianswered.</s>“Iwasstillbalancingthematterinmymindwhen ahansomcabdroveuptoBrionyLodge,andagen- tlemansprangout. Hewasaremarkablyhandsome man,dark,aquiline,andmoustached—evidentlythe man of whom I had heard. He appeared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the cabman to wait, and brushedpastthemaidwhoopenedthedoorwiththe airofamanwhowasthoroughlyathome.</s>“He was in the house about half an hour, and I could catch glimpses of him in the windows of the sitting-room,pacingupanddown,talkingexcitedly, and waving his arms. Of her I could see nothing.</s>Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried thanbefore. Ashesteppeduptothecab,hepulleda goldwatchfromhispocketandlookedatitearnestly, ‘Drive like the devil,’ he shouted, ‘first to Gross & Hankey’sinRegentStreet,andthentotheChurchof St. Monica in the Edgeware Road. Half a guinea if youdoitintwentyminutes!’ “Away they went, and I was just wondering whetherIshouldnotdowelltofollowthemwhenup thelanecameaneatlittlelandau,thecoachmanwith hiscoatonlyhalf-buttoned,andhistieunderhisear, whileallthetagsofhisharnesswerestickingoutof the buckles. It hadn’t pulled up before she shot out ofthehalldoorandintoit. Ionlycaughtaglimpse of her at the moment, but she was a lovely woman, withafacethatamanmightdiefor.</s>“‘TheChurchofSt.Monica,John,’shecried,‘and halfasovereignifyoureachitintwentyminutes.’ “This was quite too good to lose, Watson. I was justbalancingwhetherIshouldrunforit,orwhether I should perch behind her landau when a cab came through the street. The driver looked twice at such a shabby fare, but I jumped in before he could ob- ject. ‘The Church of St. Monica,’ said I, ‘and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty minutes.’ It was twenty-five minutes to twelve, and of course it was clearenoughwhatwasinthewind.</s>“My cabby drove fast. I don’t think I ever drove faster, but the others were there before us. The cab and the landau with their steaming horses were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid the man and hurried into the church. There was not a soul there save the two whom I had followed and a sur- pliced clergyman, who seemed to be expostulatingwiththem. Theywereallthreestandinginaknotin frontofthealtar. Iloungedupthesideaislelikeany otheridlerwhohasdroppedintoachurch. Suddenly, to my surprise, the three at the altar faced round to me,andGodfreyNortoncamerunningashardashe couldtowardsme.</s>“‘ThankGod,’hecried. ‘You’lldo. Come! Come!’ “‘Whatthen?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Come, man, come, only three minutes, or it won’tbelegal.’ “I was half-dragged up to the altar, and before I knew where I was I found myself mumbling re- sponseswhichwerewhisperedinmyear,andvouch- ingforthingsofwhichIknewnothing,andgenerally assistinginthesecuretyingupofIreneAdler, spin- ster,toGodfreyNorton,bachelor. Itwasalldonein aninstant,andtherewasthegentlemanthankingme ontheonesideandtheladyontheother,whilethe clergyman beamed on me in front. It was the most preposterouspositioninwhichIeverfoundmyselfin my life, and it was the thought of it that started me laughingjustnow. Itseemsthattherehadbeensome informality about their license, that the clergyman absolutelyrefusedtomarrythemwithoutawitness ofsomesort,andthatmyluckyappearancesavedthe bridegroomfromhavingtosallyoutintothestreetsin searchofabestman. Thebridegavemeasovereign, andImeantowearitonmywatch-chaininmemory oftheoccasion.” “Thisisaveryunexpectedturnofaffairs,”saidI; “andwhatthen?” “Well,Ifoundmyplansveryseriouslymenaced.</s>It looked as if the pair might take an immediate de- parture,andsonecessitateverypromptandenergetic measures on my part. At the church door, however, they separated, he driving back to the Temple, and she to her own house. ‘I shall drive out in the park atfiveasusual,’shesaidasshelefthim. Iheardno more. Theydroveawayindifferentdirections,andI wentofftomakemyownarrangements.” “Whichare?” “Somecoldbeefandaglassofbeer,”heanswered, ringing the bell. “I have been too busy to think of food, and I am likely to be busier still this evening.</s>Bytheway,Doctor,Ishallwantyourco-operation.” “Ishallbedelighted.” “Youdon’tmindbreakingthelaw?” “Notintheleast.” “Norrunningachanceofarrest?” “Notinagoodcause.” “Oh,thecauseisexcellent!” “ThenIamyourman.” “IwassurethatImightrelyonyou.” “Butwhatisityouwish?” “WhenMrs.TurnerhasbroughtinthetrayIwill make it clear to you. Now,” he said as he turned hungrily on the simple fare that our landlady had provided, “I must discuss it while I eat, for I have not much time. It is nearly five now. In two hours we must be on the scene of action. Miss Irene, or Madame,rather,returnsfromherdriveatseven. We mustbeatBrionyLodgetomeether.” “Andwhatthen?” “You must leave that to me. I have already ar- ranged what is to occur. There is only one point on which I must insist. You must not interfere, come whatmay. Youunderstand?” “Iamtobeneutral?” “Todonothingwhatever. Therewillprobablybe somesmallunpleasantness. Donotjoininit. Itwill end in my being conveyed into the house. Four or fiveminutesafterwardsthesitting-roomwindowwill open. You are to station yourself close to that open window.” “Yes.” “Youaretowatchme,forIwillbevisibletoyou.” “Yes.” “AndwhenIraisemyhand—so—youwillthrow into theroomwhat I giveyou to throw, and will, at thesametime,raisethecryoffire. Youquitefollow me?” “Entirely.” “It is nothing very formidable,” he said, taking a long cigar-shaped roll from his pocket. “It is an ordinary plumber’s smoke-rocket, fitted with a cap at either end to make it self-lighting. Your task is confined to that. When you raise your cry of fire, it will be taken up by quite a number of people. You may then walk to the end of the street, and I will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that I have made myselfclear?” “Iamtoremainneutral,togetnearthewindow, towatchyou,andatthesignaltothrowinthisobject, then to raise the cry of fire, and to wait you at the cornerofthestreet.” “Precisely.” “Thenyoumayentirelyrelyonme.” “That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost timethatIprepareforthenewroleIhavetoplay.”He disappeared into his bedroom and returned inafewminutesinthecharacterofanamiableand simple-mindedNonconformistclergyman. Hisbroad blackhat,hisbaggytrousers,hiswhitetie,hissympa- theticsmile,andgenerallookofpeeringandbenevo- lentcuriosityweresuchasMr.JohnHarealonecould haveequalled. ItwasnotmerelythatHolmeschanged hiscostume. Hisexpression,hismanner,hisverysoul seemedtovarywitheveryfreshpartthatheassumed.</s>Thestagelostafineactor,evenassciencelostanacute reasoner,whenhebecameaspecialistincrime.</s>ItwasaquarterpastsixwhenweleftBakerStreet, anditstillwantedtenminutestothehourwhenwe foundourselvesinSerpentineAvenue. Itwasalready dusk, and the lamps were just being lighted as we pacedupanddowninfrontofBrionyLodge,waiting for the coming of its occupant. The house was just suchasIhadpictureditfromSherlockHolmes’suc- cinctdescription,butthelocalityappearedtobeless privatethanIexpected. Onthecontrary,forasmall street in a quiet neighbourhood, it was remarkably animated. There was a group of shabbily dressed men smoking and laughing in a corner, a scissors- grinder with his wheel, two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl, and several well-dressed young men who were lounging up and down with cigarsintheirmouths.</s>“Yousee,”remarkedHolmes,aswepacedtoand fro in front of the house, “this marriage rather sim- plifies matters. The photograph becomes a double- edgedweaponnow. Thechancesarethatshewould be as averse to its being seen by Mr. Godfrey Nor- ton, as our client is to its coming to the eyes of his princess. Nowthequestionis—Wherearewetofind thephotograph?” “Where,indeed?” “Itismostunlikelythatshecarriesitaboutwith her. Itiscabinetsize. Toolargeforeasyconcealment about a woman’s dress. She knows that the King is capable of having her waylaid and searched. Two attemptsofthesorthavealreadybeenmade. Wemay take it, then, that she does not carry it about with her.” “Where,then?” “Her banker or her lawyer. There is that dou- ble possibility. But I am inclined to think neither.</s>Women are naturally secretive, and they like to do their own secreting. Why should she hand it over to anyone else? She could trust her own guardian- ship,butshecouldnottellwhatindirectorpolitical influencemightbebroughttobearuponabusiness man. Besides,rememberthatshehadresolvedtouse itwithinafewdays. Itmustbewhereshecanlayher handsuponit. Itmustbeinherownhouse.” “Butithastwicebeenburgled.” “Pshaw! Theydidnotknowhowtolook.” “Buthowwillyoulook?” “Iwillnotlook.” “Whatthen?” “Iwillgethertoshowme.” “Butshewillrefuse.” “Shewillnotbeableto. ButIheartherumbleof wheels. Itishercarriage. Nowcarryoutmyorders totheletter.” Ashespokethegleamoftheside-lightsofacar- riage came round the curve of the avenue. It was a smart little landau which rattled up to the door of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up, one of the loafing menatthecornerdashedforwardtoopenthedoor in the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed awaybyanotherloafer,whohadrushedupwiththe sameintention. Afiercequarrelbrokeout,whichwas increasedbythetwoguardsmen,whotooksideswith oneoftheloungers,andbythescissors-grinder,who was equally hot upon the other side. A blow was struck, and in an instant the lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the centre of a little knot of flushedandstrugglingmen,whostrucksavagelyat eachotherwiththeirfistsandsticks. Holmesdashed into the crowd to protect the lady; but just as he reachedherhegaveacryanddroppedtotheground, withthebloodrunningfreelydownhisface. Athis fall the guardsmen took to their heels in one direc- tionandtheloungersintheother,whileanumberof better-dressed people, who had watched the scuffle withouttakingpartinit,crowdedintohelpthelady andtoattendtotheinjuredman. IreneAdler,asIwill stillcallher,hadhurriedupthesteps;butshestood atthetopwithhersuperbfigureoutlinedagainstthe lightsofthehall,lookingbackintothestreet.</s>“Isthepoorgentlemanmuchhurt?”sheasked.</s>“Heisdead,”criedseveralvoices.</s>“No,no,there’slifeinhim!”shoutedanother. “But he’llbegonebeforeyoucangethimtohospital.” “He’sabravefellow,”saidawoman. “Theywould havehadthelady’spurseandwatchifithadn’tbeen forhim. Theywereagang,andaroughone,too. Ah, he’sbreathingnow.” “He can’t lie in the street. May we bring him in, marm?” “Surely. Bringhimintothesitting-room. Thereis acomfortablesofa. Thisway,please!”Slowly and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge and laid out in the principal room, while I still observed the proceedings from my post by the window. Thelampshadbeenlit,buttheblindshad notbeendrawn,sothatIcouldseeHolmesashelay uponthecouch. Idonotknowwhetherhewasseized withcompunctionatthatmomentfortheparthewas playing, but I know that I never felt more heartily ashamed of myself in my life than when I saw the beautifulcreatureagainstwhomIwasconspiring,or thegraceandkindlinesswithwhichshewaitedupon the injured man. And yet it would be the blackest treacherytoHolmestodrawbacknowfromthepart whichhehadintrustedtome. Ihardenedmyheart, andtookthesmoke-rocketfromundermyulster. Af- terall,Ithought,wearenotinjuringher. Wearebut preventingherfrominjuringanother.</s>Holmes had sat up upon the couch, and I saw himmotionlikeamanwhoisinneedofair. Amaid rushed across and threw open the window. At the sameinstantIsawhimraisehishandandatthesig- nal I tossed my rocket into the room with a cry of “Fire!” The word was no sooner out of my mouth thanthewholecrowdofspectators,welldressedand ill—gentlemen, ostlers, and servant-maids—joined inageneralshriekof“Fire!”Thickcloudsofsmoke curledthroughtheroomandoutattheopenwindow.</s>Icaughtaglimpseofrushingfigures,andamoment laterthevoiceofHolmesfromwithinassuringthem thatitwasafalsealarm. Slippingthroughtheshout- ingcrowdImademywaytothecornerofthestreet, and in ten minutes was rejoiced to find my friend’s arm in mine, and to get away from the scene of up- roar. Hewalkedswiftlyandinsilenceforsomefew minutes until we had turned down one of the quiet streetswhichleadtowardstheEdgewareRoad.</s>“You did it very nicely, Doctor,” he remarked.</s>“Nothingcouldhavebeenbetter. Itisallright.” “Youhavethephotograph?” “Iknowwhereitis.” “Andhowdidyoufindout?” “Sheshowedme,asItoldyoushewould.” “Iamstillinthedark.” “Idonotwishtomakeamystery,”saidhe,laugh- ing. “Thematterwasperfectlysimple. You,ofcourse, saw that everyone in the street was an accomplice.</s>Theywereallengagedfortheevening.” “Iguessedasmuch.” “Then,whentherowbrokeout,Ihadalittlemoist redpaintinthepalmofmyhand. Irushedforward, felldown,clappedmyhandtomyface,andbecame apiteousspectacle. Itisanoldtrick.” “ThatalsoIcouldfathom.” “Thentheycarriedmein. Shewasboundtohave mein. Whatelsecouldshedo? Andintohersitting- room, which was the very room which I suspected.</s>It lay between that and her bedroom, and I was de- termined to see which. They laid me on a couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled to open the window,andyouhadyourchance.” “Howdidthathelpyou?” “Itwasall-important. Whenawomanthinksthat her house is on fire, her instinct is at once to rush to the thing which she values most. It is a perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more than once taken advantage of it. In the case of the Darlington substitutionscandalitwasofusetome,andalsoin the Arnsworth Castle business. A married woman grabsatherbaby;anunmarriedonereachesforher jewel-box. Now it was clear to me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house more precious to herthanwhatweareinquestof. Shewouldrushto secureit. Thealarmoffirewasadmirablydone. The smokeandshoutingwereenoughtoshakenervesof steel. Sherespondedbeautifully. Thephotographis inarecessbehindaslidingpaneljustabovetheright bell-pull. She was there in an instant, and I caught aglimpseofitasshehalf-drewitout. WhenIcried outthatitwasafalsealarm,shereplacedit,glanced at the rocket, rushed from the room, and I have not seen her since. I rose, and, making my excuses, es- capedfromthehouse. Ihesitatedwhethertoattempt tosecurethephotographatonce;butthecoachman hadcomein,andashewaswatchingmenarrowlyit seemed safer to wait. A little over-precipitance may ruinall.” “Andnow?”Iasked.</s>“Ourquestispracticallyfinished. Ishallcallwith theKingto-morrow,andwithyou,ifyoucaretocome with us. We will be shown into the sitting-room to wait for the lady, but it is probable that when she comesshemayfindneitherusnorthephotograph. It mightbeasatisfactiontohisMajestytoregainitwith hisownhands.” “Andwhenwillyoucall?” “At eight in the morning. She will not be up, so that we shall have a clear field. Besides, we must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a complete changeinherlifeandhabits. ImustwiretotheKing withoutdelay.”WehadreachedBakerStreetandhadstoppedat the door. He was searching his pockets for the key whensomeonepassingsaid: “Good-night,MisterSherlockHolmes.” Therewereseveralpeopleonthepavementatthe CHAP I slept at Baker Street that night, and we were engaged upon our toast and coffee in the morning whentheKingofBohemiarushedintotheroom.</s>“Youhavereallygotit!”he cried, graspingSher- lockHolmesbyeithershoulderandlookingeagerly intohisface.</s>“Notyet.” “Butyouhavehopes?” “Ihavehopes.” “Then,come. Iamallimpatiencetobegone.” “Wemusthaveacab.” “No,mybroughamiswaiting.” “Thenthatwillsimplifymatters.”Wedescended andstartedoffoncemoreforBrionyLodge.</s>“IreneAdlerismarried,”remarkedHolmes.</s>“Married! When?” “Yesterday.” “Buttowhom?” “ToanEnglishlawyernamedNorton.” “Butshecouldnotlovehim.” “Iaminhopesthatshedoes.” “Andwhyinhopes?” “Because it would spare your Majesty all fear of futureannoyance. Iftheladylovesherhusband,she doesnotloveyourMajesty. Ifshedoesnotloveyour Majesty,thereisnoreasonwhysheshouldinterfere withyourMajesty’splan.” “It is true. And yet—Well! I wish she had been of my own station! What a queen she would have made!”Herelapsedintoamoodysilence,whichwas notbrokenuntilwedrewupinSerpentineAvenue.</s>time,butthegreetingappearedtocomefromaslim youthinanulsterwhohadhurriedby.</s>“I’veheardthatvoicebefore,”saidHolmes,star- ing down the dimly lit street. “Now, I wonder who thedeucethatcouldhavebeen.” TER III.</s>The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an el- derlywomanstooduponthesteps. Shewatchedus withasardoniceyeaswesteppedfromthebrougham.</s>“Mr.SherlockHolmes,Ibelieve?”saidshe.</s>“I am Mr. Holmes,” answered my companion, lookingatherwithaquestioningandratherstartled gaze.</s>“Indeed! Mymistresstoldmethatyouwerelikely tocall. Sheleftthismorningwithherhusbandbythe 5.15trainfromCharingCrossfortheContinent.” “What!”SherlockHolmesstaggeredback,white with chagrin and surprise. “Do you mean that she hasleftEngland?” “Nevertoreturn.” “Andthepapers?”askedtheKinghoarsely. “All islost.” “We shall see.” He pushed past the servant and rushedintothedrawing-room,followedbytheKing and myself. The furniture was scattered about in every direction, with dismantled shelves and open drawers,asiftheladyhadhurriedlyransackedthem beforeherflight. Holmesrushedatthebell-pull,tore back a small sliding shutter, and, plunging in his hand,pulledoutaphotographandaletter. Thepho- tographwasofIreneAdlerherselfineveningdress, theletterwassuperscribedto“SherlockHolmes,Esq.</s>To be left till called for.” My friend tore it open and weallthreereadittogether. Itwasdatedatmidnight oftheprecedingnightandraninthisway:“MydearMr.SherlockHolmes: “You really did it very well. You took meincompletely. Untilafterthealarmof fire,Ihadnotasuspicion. Butthen,when I found how I had betrayed myself, I be- gan to think. I had been warned against youmonthsago. Ihadbeentoldthatifthe Kingemployedanagentitwouldcertainly beyou. Andyouraddresshadbeengiven me. Yet,withallthis,youmademereveal whatyouwantedtoknow. EvenafterIbe- camesuspicious,Ifoundithardtothink evil of such a dear, kind old clergyman.</s>But,youknow,Ihavebeentrainedasan actress myself. Male costume is nothing newtome. Ioftentakeadvantageofthe freedom which it gives. I sent John, the coachman,towatchyou,ranupstairs,got into my walking-clothes, as I call them, andcamedownjustasyoudeparted.</s>“Well,Ifollowedyoutoyourdoor,and so made sure that I was really an ob- jectofinteresttothecelebratedMr.Sher- lockHolmes. ThenI,ratherimprudently, wished you good-night, and started for theTempletoseemyhusband.</s>“Weboththoughtthebestresourcewas flight,whenpursuedbysoformidablean antagonist;soyouwillfindthenestempty when you call to-morrow. As to the pho- tograph, your client may rest in peace. I love and am loved by a better man than he. TheKingmaydowhathewillwithout hindrancefromonewhomhehascruelly wronged. Ikeepitonlytosafeguardmy- self,andtopreserveaweaponwhichwill always secure me from any steps which hemighttakeinthefuture. Ileaveapho- tograph which he might care to possess; andIremain,dearMr.SherlockHolmes, —“Verytrulyyours, “IreneNorton,ne´eAdler.” “Whatawoman—oh,whatawoman!”criedthe King of Bohemia, when we had all three read this epistle. “Did I not tell you how quick and resolute she was? Would she not have made an admirable queen? Isitnotapitythatshewasnotonmylevel?” “From what I have seen of the lady she seems indeedtobeonaverydifferentleveltoyourMajesty,” saidHolmescoldly. “IamsorrythatIhavenotbeen abletobringyourMajesty’sbusinesstoamoresuc- cessfulconclusion.” “On the contrary, my dear sir,” cried the King; “nothing could be more successful. I know that her wordisinviolate. Thephotographisnowassafeasif itwereinthefire.” “IamgladtohearyourMajestysayso.” “Iamimmenselyindebtedtoyou. Praytellmein whatwayIcanrewardyou. Thisring—”Heslipped anemeraldsnakeringfromhisfingerandhelditout uponthepalmofhishand.</s>“YourMajestyhassomethingwhichIshouldvalue evenmorehighly,”saidHolmes.</s>“Youhavebuttonameit.” “Thisphotograph!” TheKingstaredathiminamazement.</s>“Irene’sphotograph!”hecried. “Certainly,ifyou wishit.” “I thank your Majesty. Then there is no more to be done in the matter. I have the honour to wish youaverygood-morning.”Hebowed,and,turning awaywithoutobservingthehandwhichtheKinghad stretchedouttohim,hesetoffinmycompanyforhis chambers.</s>Andthatwashowagreatscandalthreatenedtoaf- fectthekingdomofBohemia,andhowthebestplans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman’s wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late. And whenhespeaksofIreneAdler,orwhenherefersto her photograph, it is always under the honourable titleofthewoman.had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,onedayintheautumnoflastyear andfoundhimindeepconversationwitha I verystout,florid-faced,elderlygentleman withfieryredhair. Withanapologyformyintrusion, I was about to withdraw when Holmes pulled me abruptly into the room and closed the door behind me.</s>“Youcouldnotpossiblyhavecomeatabettertime, mydearWatson,”hesaidcordially.</s>“Iwasafraidthatyouwereengaged.” “SoIam. Verymuchso.” “ThenIcanwaitinthenextroom.” “Notatall. Thisgentleman,Mr.Wilson,hasbeen mypartnerandhelperinmanyofmymostsuccess- ful cases, and I have no doubt that he will be of the utmostusetomeinyoursalso.” Thestoutgentlemanhalfrosefromhischairand gaveabobofgreeting,withaquicklittlequestioning glancefromhissmallfat-encircledeyes.</s>“Try the settee,” said Holmes, relapsing into his armchairandputtinghisfingertipstogether,aswas hiscustomwheninjudicialmoods. “Iknow,mydear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre and outside the conventions and humdrum routine ofeverydaylife. Youhaveshownyourrelishforitby theenthusiasmwhichhaspromptedyoutochronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellishsomanyofmyownlittleadventures.” “Yourcaseshaveindeedbeenofthegreatestinter- esttome,”Iobserved.</s>“YouwillrememberthatIremarkedtheotherday, just before we went into the very simple problem presentedbyMissMarySutherland,thatforstrange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go tolifeitself,whichisalwaysfarmoredaringthanany effortoftheimagination.” “ApropositionwhichItookthelibertyofdoubt- ing.” “Youdid,Doctor,butnonethelessyoumustcome round to my view, for otherwise I shall keep on pil- ing fact upon fact on you until your reason breaks downunderthemandacknowledgesmetoberight.</s>Now, Mr. Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this morning, and to begin a narra- tive which promises to be one of the most singular which I have listened to for some time. You have heardmeremarkthatthestrangestandmostunique things are very often connected not with the larger butwiththesmallercrimes,andoccasionally,indeed, wherethereisroomfordoubtwhetheranypositive crimehasbeencommitted. AsfarasIhavehearditis impossibleformetosaywhetherthepresentcaseis aninstanceofcrimeornot,butthecourseofevents iscertainlyamongthemostsingularthatIhaveever listened to. Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to recommence your narrative. I ask you not merely because my friend Dr. Watson hasnotheardtheopeningpartbutalsobecausethe peculiarnatureofthestorymakesmeanxioustohave everypossibledetailfromyourlips. Asarule,when I have heard some slight indication of the course of events,Iamabletoguidemyselfbythethousandsof othersimilarcaseswhichoccurtomymemory. Inthe present instance I am forced to admit that the facts are,tothebestofmybelief,unique.” Theportlyclientpuffedouthischestwithanap- pearanceofsomelittleprideandpulledadirtyand wrinkled newspaper from the inside pocket of his greatcoat. As he glanced down the advertisement column,withhisheadthrustforwardandthepaper flattened out upon his knee, I took a good look at the man and endeavoured, after the fashion of my companion, to read the indications which might be presentedbyhisdressorappearance.</s>Ididnotgainverymuch,however,bymyinspec- tion. Ourvisitorboreeverymarkofbeinganaverage commonplace British tradesman, obese, pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy grey shepherd’s checktrousers,anotover-cleanblackfrock-coat,un- buttoned in the front, and a drab waistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square pierced bit of metal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hatandafadedbrownovercoatwithawrinkled velvetcollarlayuponachairbesidehim. Altogether, lookasIwould,therewasnothingremarkableabout themansavehisblazingredhead,andtheexpression ofextremechagrinanddiscontentuponhisfeatures.</s>Sherlock Holmes’ quick eye took in my occupa- tion,andheshookhisheadwithasmileashenoticed my questioning glances. “Beyond the obvious facts thathehasatsometimedonemanuallabour,thathe takessnuff,thatheisaFreemason,thathehasbeen inChina,andthathehasdoneaconsiderableamount ofwritinglately,Icandeducenothingelse.” Mr.JabezWilsonstartedupinhischair,withhis forefingeruponthepaper,buthiseyesuponmycom- panion.</s>“How,inthenameofgood-fortune,didyouknow allthat,Mr.Holmes?”heasked. “Howdidyouknow, forexample,thatIdidmanuallabour. It’sastrueas gospel,forIbeganasaship’scarpenter.”“Yourhands,mydearsir. Yourrighthandisquite asizelargerthanyourleft. Youhaveworkedwithit, andthemusclesaremoredeveloped.” “Well,thesnuff,then,andtheFreemasonry?” “Iwon’tinsultyourintelligencebytellingyouhow Ireadthat,especiallyas,ratheragainstthestrictrules ofyourorder,youuseanarc-and-compassbreastpin.” “Ah,ofcourse,Iforgotthat. Butthewriting?” “Whatelsecanbeindicatedbythatrightcuffso very shiny for five inches, and the left one with the smoothpatchneartheelbowwhereyourestitupon thedesk?” “Well,butChina?” “The fish that you have tattooed immediately aboveyourrightwristcouldonlyhavebeendonein China. Ihavemadeasmallstudyoftattoomarksand haveevencontributedtotheliteratureofthesubject.</s>That trick of staining the fishes’ scales of a delicate pinkisquitepeculiartoChina. When,inaddition,I see a Chinese coin hanging from your watch-chain, thematterbecomesevenmoresimple.” Mr.JabezWilsonlaughedheavily. “Well,Inever!” said he. “I thought at first that you had done some- thing clever, but I see that there was nothing in it, afterall.” “I begin to think, Watson,” said Holmes, “that I make a mistake in explaining. ‘Omne ignotum pro magnifico,’ you know, and my poor little reputation, suchasitis,willsuffershipwreckifIamsocandid.</s>Canyounotfindtheadvertisement,Mr.Wilson?” “Yes, I have got it now,” he answered with his thick red finger planted halfway down the column.</s>“Hereitis. Thisiswhatbeganitall. Youjustreadit foryourself,sir.” Itookthepaperfromhimandreadasfollows: “To the Red-headed League: On ac- count of the bequest of the late Ezekiah Hopkins,ofLebanon,Pennsylvania,U.S.</s>A., there is now another vacancy open whichentitlesamemberoftheLeaguetoa salaryof£4aweekforpurelynominalser- vices. Allred-headedmenwhoaresound in body and mind and above the age of twenty-one years, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o’clock, to DuncanRoss,attheofficesoftheLeague, 7Pope’sCourt,FleetStreet.” “Whatonearthdoesthismean?”Iejaculatedafter I had twice read over the extraordinary announce- ment.</s>Holmeschuckledandwriggledinhischair,aswas his habit when in high spirits. “It is a little off the beatentrack,isn’tit?”saidhe. “Andnow,Mr.Wilson, off you go at scratch and tell us all about yourself, yourhousehold,andtheeffectwhichthisadvertise- menthaduponyourfortunes. Youwillfirstmakea note,Doctor,ofthepaperandthedate.” “ItisTheMorningChronicleofApril27,1890. Just twomonthsago.” “Verygood. Now,Mr.Wilson?” “Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr.</s>Sherlock Holmes,” said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead; “I have a small pawnbroker’s business at Coburg Square, near the City. It’s not a very large affair, and of late years it has not done more than just give me a living. I used to be able to keep two assistants,butnowIonlykeepone;andIwouldhave ajobtopayhimbutthatheiswillingtocomeforhalf wagessoastolearnthebusiness.” “Whatisthenameofthisobligingyouth?”asked SherlockHolmes.</s>“HisnameisVincentSpaulding,andhe’snotsuch ayouth,either. It’shardtosayhisage. Ishouldnot wishasmarterassistant,Mr.Holmes;andIknowvery wellthathecouldbetterhimselfandearntwicewhat Iamabletogivehim. But,afterall,ifheissatisfied, whyshouldIputideasinhishead?” “Why,indeed? Youseemmostfortunateinhaving anemployeewhocomesunderthefullmarketprice.</s>It is not a common experience among employers in this age. I don’t know that your assistant is not as remarkableasyouradvertisement.” “Oh, he has his faults, too,” said Mr. Wilson.</s>“Neverwassuchafellowforphotography. Snapping awaywithacamerawhenheoughttobeimproving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like arabbitintoitsholetodevelophispictures. Thatis hismainfault,butonthewholehe’sagoodworker.</s>There’snoviceinhim.” “Heisstillwithyou,Ipresume?” “Yes,sir. Heandagirloffourteen,whodoesabit ofsimplecookingandkeepstheplaceclean—that’s allIhaveinthehouse,forIamawidowerandnever hadanyfamily. Weliveveryquietly,sir,thethreeof us; and we keep a roof over our heads and pay our debts,ifwedonothingmore.“Thefirstthingthatputusoutwasthatadvertise- ment. Spaulding, he came down into the office just thisdayeightweeks,withthisverypaperinhishand, andhesays: “‘I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a red-headedman.’ “‘Whythat?’ Iasks.</s>“‘Why,’ says he, ‘here’s another vacancy on the League of the Red-headed Men. It’s worth quite a little fortune to any man who gets it, and I under- stand that there are more vacancies than there are men,sothatthetrusteesareattheirwits’endwhat todowiththemoney. Ifmyhairwouldonlychange colour,here’sanicelittlecriballreadyformetostep into.’ “‘Why, what is it, then?’ I asked. You see, Mr.</s>Holmes, I am a very stay-at-home man, and as my business came to me instead of my having to go to it,Iwasoftenweeksonendwithoutputtingmyfoot over the door-mat. In that way I didn’t know much ofwhatwasgoingonoutside,andIwasalwaysglad ofabitofnews.</s>“‘HaveyouneverheardoftheLeagueoftheRed- headedMen?’ heaskedwithhiseyesopen.</s>“‘Never.’ “‘Why,Iwonderatthat,foryouareeligibleyour- selfforoneofthevacancies.’ “‘Andwhataretheyworth?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Oh,merelyacoupleofhundredayear,butthe work is slight, and it need not interfere very much withone’sotheroccupations.’ “Well, you can easily think that that made me prickupmyears,forthebusinesshasnotbeenover- goodforsomeyears,andanextracoupleofhundred wouldhavebeenveryhandy.</s>“‘Tellmeallaboutit,’saidI.</s>“‘Well,’ said he, showing me the advertisement, ‘youcanseeforyourselfthattheLeaguehasavacancy, andthereistheaddresswhereyoushouldapplyfor particulars. As far as I can make out, the League was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins,whowasverypeculiarinhisways. Hewas himselfred-headed,andhehadagreatsympathyfor all red-headed men; so when he died it was found thathehadlefthisenormousfortuneinthehandsof trustees,withinstructionstoapplytheinteresttothe providingofeasyberthstomenwhosehairisofthat colour. From all I hear it is splendid pay and very littletodo.’ “‘But,’ said I, ‘there would be millions of red- headedmenwhowouldapply.’ “‘Notsomanyasyoumightthink,’heanswered.</s>‘You see it is really confined to Londoners, and to grownmen. ThisAmericanhadstartedfromLondon when he was young, and he wanted to do the old townagoodturn. Then,again,Ihavehearditisno useyourapplyingifyourhairislightred,ordarkred, oranythingbutrealbright,blazing,fieryred. Now,if youcaredtoapply,Mr.Wilson,youwouldjustwalk in;butperhapsitwouldhardlybeworthyourwhile to put yourself out of the way for the sake of a few hundredpounds.’ “Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves,thatmyhairisofaveryfullandrichtint, so that it seemed to me that if there was to be any competition in the matter I stood as good a chance as any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to know so much about it that I thought he might prove useful, so I just ordered him to put up theshuttersforthedayandtocomerightawaywith me. Hewasverywillingtohaveaholiday,soweshut the business up and started off for the address that wasgivenusintheadvertisement.</s>“I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr.Holmes. Fromnorth,south,east,andwestevery manwhohadashadeofredinhishairhadtramped intothecitytoanswertheadvertisement. FleetStreet waschokedwithred-headedfolk,andPope’sCourt looked like a coster’s orange barrow. I should not havethoughtthereweresomanyinthewholecoun- try as were brought together by that single adver- tisement. Every shade of colour they were—straw, lemon, orange, brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there were not many who had the realvividflame-colouredtint. WhenIsawhowmany werewaiting,Iwouldhavegivenitupindespair;but Spauldingwouldnothearofit. HowhediditIcould not imagine, but he pushed and pulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right up to thestepswhichledtotheoffice. Therewasadouble stream upon the stair, some going up in hope, and somecomingbackdejected;butwewedgedinaswell aswecouldandsoonfoundourselvesintheoffice.” “Your experience has been a most entertaining one,”remarkedHolmesashisclientpausedandre- freshedhismemorywithahugepinchofsnuff. “Pray continueyourveryinterestingstatement.” “There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and a deal table, behind which sat a small man with a head that was even redder thanmine. He said a few words to each candidate as he cameup,andthenhealwaysmanagedtofindsome faultinthemwhichwoulddisqualifythem. Gettinga vacancydidnotseemtobesuchaveryeasymatter, afterall. However,whenourturncamethelittleman wasmuchmorefavourabletomethantoanyofthe others,andheclosedthedoorasweentered,sothat hemighthaveaprivatewordwithus.</s>“‘ThisisMr.JabezWilson,’saidmyassistant,‘and heiswillingtofillavacancyintheLeague.’ “‘Andheisadmirablysuitedforit,’theotheran- swered. ‘He has every requirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so fine.’ He took a step backward,cockedhisheadononeside,andgazedat myhairuntilIfeltquitebashful. Thensuddenlyhe plungedforward,wrungmyhand,andcongratulated mewarmlyonmysuccess.</s>“‘Itwouldbeinjusticetohesitate,’ saidhe. ‘You will,however,Iamsure,excusemefortakinganobvi- ousprecaution.’ Withthatheseizedmyhairinboth his hands, and tugged until I yelled with the pain.</s>‘There is water in your eyes,’ said he as he released me. ‘Iperceivethatallisasitshouldbe. Butwehave tobecareful,forwehavetwicebeendeceivedbywigs andoncebypaint. Icouldtellyoutalesofcobbler’s wax which would disgust you with human nature.’ Hesteppedovertothewindowandshoutedthrough it at the top of his voice that the vacancy was filled.</s>Agroanofdisappointmentcameupfrombelow,and thefolkalltroopedawayindifferentdirectionsuntil there was not a red-head to be seen except my own andthatofthemanager.</s>“‘Myname,’saidhe,‘isMr.DuncanRoss, andI am myself one of the pensioners upon the fund left byournoblebenefactor. Areyouamarriedman,Mr.</s>Wilson? Haveyouafamily?’ “IansweredthatIhadnot.</s>“Hisfacefellimmediately.</s>“‘Dearme!’ hesaidgravely,‘thatisveryserious indeed! I am sorry to hear you say that. The fund was,ofcourse,forthepropagationandspreadofthe red-heads as well as for their maintenance. It is ex- ceedinglyunfortunatethatyoushouldbeabachelor.’ “My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was not to have the vacancy after all; but after thinking it over for a few minutes he said thatitwouldbeallright.</s>“‘In the case of another,’ said he, ‘the objection mightbefatal,butwemuststretchapointinfavour of a man with such a head of hair as yours. When shallyoubeabletoenteruponyournewduties?’ “‘Well,itisalittleawkward,forIhaveabusiness already,’saidI.</s>“‘Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!’ said VincentSpaulding. ‘Ishouldbeabletolookafterthat foryou.’ “‘Whatwouldbethehours?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Tentotwo.’ “Nowapawnbroker’sbusinessismostlydoneof anevening,Mr.Holmes,especiallyThursdayandFri- dayevening,whichisjustbeforepay-day;soitwould suitmeverywelltoearnalittleinthemornings. Be- sides,Iknewthatmyassistantwasagoodman,and thathewouldseetoanythingthatturnedup.</s>“‘Thatwouldsuitmeverywell,’saidI.‘Andthe pay?’ “‘Is£4aweek.’ “‘Andthework?’ “‘Ispurelynominal.’ “‘Whatdoyoucallpurelynominal?’ “‘Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the building, the whole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole position forever. The will is very clear upon that point. You don’t comply with the conditions if you budge from the office during that time.’ “‘It’sonlyfourhoursaday,andIshouldnotthink ofleaving,’saidI.</s>“‘Noexcusewillavail,’saidMr.DuncanRoss;‘nei- ther sickness nor business nor anything else. There youmuststay,oryouloseyourbillet.’ “‘Andthework?’ “‘Is to copy out the “Encyclopaedia Britannica.” Thereisthefirstvolumeofitinthatpress. Youmust findyourownink,pens,andblotting-paper,butwe provide this table and chair. Will you be ready to- morrow?’ “‘Certainly,’Ianswered.</s>“‘Then, good-bye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulateyouoncemoreontheimportantposition whichyouhavebeenfortunateenoughtogain.’ He bowedmeoutoftheroomandIwenthomewithmy assistant,hardlyknowingwhattosayordo,Iwasso pleasedatmyowngoodfortune.</s>“Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was in low spirits again; for I had quite persuadedmyselfthatthewholeaffairmustbesome greathoaxorfraud,thoughwhatitsobjectmightbe I could not imagine. It seemed altogether past be- liefthatanyonecouldmakesuchawill,orthattheywouldpaysuchasumfordoinganythingsosimple as copying out the ‘Encyclopaedia Britannica.’ Vin- centSpauldingdidwhathecouldtocheermeup,but by bedtime I had reasoned myself out of the whole thing. However,inthemorningIdeterminedtohave alookatitanyhow,soIboughtapennybottleofink, and with a quill-pen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper,IstartedoffforPope’sCourt.</s>“Well,tomysurpriseanddelight,everythingwas as right as possible. The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross was there to see that I gotfairlytowork. Hestartedmeoffupontheletter A, and then he left me; but he would drop in from timetotimetoseethatallwasrightwithme. Attwo o’clockhebademegood-day,complimentedmeupon theamountthatIhadwritten,andlockedthedoorof theofficeafterme.</s>“Thiswentondayafterday,Mr.Holmes,andon Saturday the manager came in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my week’s work. It was thesamenextweek,andthesametheweekafter. Ev- erymorningIwasthereatten,andeveryafternoon I left at two. By degrees Mr. Duncan Ross took to cominginonlyonceofamorning,andthen,aftera time,hedidnotcomeinatall. Still,ofcourse,Inever daredtoleavetheroomforaninstant,forIwasnot surewhenhemightcome,andthebilletwassucha goodone,andsuitedmesowell,thatIwouldnotrisk thelossofit.</s>“Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had writtenaboutAbbotsandArcheryandArmourand Architecture and Attica, and hoped with diligence thatImightgetontotheB’sbeforeverylong. Itcost me something in foolscap, and I had pretty nearly filled a shelf with my writings. And then suddenly thewholebusinesscametoanend.” “Toanend?” “Yes,sir. Andnolaterthanthismorning. Iwent tomyworkasusualatteno’clock,butthedoorwas shut and locked, with a little square of cardboard hammeredontothemiddleofthepanelwithatack.</s>Hereitis,andyoucanreadforyourself.” Heheldupapieceofwhitecardboardaboutthe sizeofasheetofnote-paper. Itreadinthisfashion: TheRed-headedLeague is Dissolved October9,1890.</s>Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt an- nouncement and the rueful face behind it, until the comical side of the affair so completely overtopped everyotherconsiderationthatwebothburstoutinto aroaroflaughter.</s>“I cannot see that there is anything very funny,” criedourclient,flushinguptotherootsofhisflaming head. “Ifyoucandonothingbetterthanlaughatme, Icangoelsewhere.” “No,no,”criedHolmes,shovinghimbackintothe chairfromwhichhehadhalfrisen. “Ireallywouldn’t missyourcasefortheworld. Itismostrefreshingly unusual. But there is, if you will excuse my saying so,somethingjustalittlefunnyaboutit. Praywhat stepsdidyoutakewhenyoufoundthecarduponthe door?” “Iwasstaggered,sir. Ididnotknowwhattodo.</s>Then I called at the offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything about it. Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on the ground-floor,andIaskedhimifhecouldtellmewhat hadbecomeoftheRed-headedLeague. Hesaidthat he had never heard of any such body. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered that thenamewasnewtohim.</s>“‘Well,’saidI,‘thegentlemanatNo.4.’ “‘What,thered-headedman?’ “‘Yes.’ “‘Oh,’saidhe,‘hisnamewasWilliamMorris. He wasasolicitorandwasusingmyroomasatemporary convenience until his new premises were ready. He movedoutyesterday.’ “‘WherecouldIfindhim?’ “‘Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the ad- dress. Yes,17KingEdwardStreet,nearSt.Paul’s.’ “Istartedoff,Mr.Holmes,butwhenIgottothat addressitwasamanufactoryofartificialknee-caps, andnooneinithadeverheardofeitherMr.William MorrisorMr.DuncanRoss.” “Andwhatdidyoudothen?”askedHolmes.</s>“IwenthometoSaxe-CoburgSquare,andItook the advice of my assistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say that if I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite good enough, Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a placewithoutastruggle,so,asIhadheardthatyou were good enough to give advice to poor folk who wereinneedofit,Icamerightawaytoyou.” “And you did very wisely,” said Holmes. “Your caseisanexceedinglyremarkableone,andIshallbehappytolookintoit. FromwhatyouhavetoldmeI thinkthatitispossiblethatgraverissueshangfrom itthanmightatfirstsightappear.” “Graveenough!”saidMr.JabezWilson. “Why,I havelostfourpoundaweek.” “As far as you are personally concerned,” re- marked Holmes, “I do not see that you have any grievance against this extraordinary league. On the contrary,youare,asIunderstand,richerbysome£30, to say nothing of the minute knowledge which you havegainedoneverysubjectwhichcomesunderthe letterA.Youhavelostnothingbythem.” “No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, and what their object was in playing this prank—if it was a prank—upon me. It was a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost them two andthirtypounds.” “We shall endeavour to clear up these points for you. And, first, one or two questions, Mr. Wilson.</s>Thisassistantofyourswhofirstcalledyourattention to the advertisement—how long had he been with you?” “Aboutamonththen.” “Howdidhecome?” “Inanswertoanadvertisement.” “Washetheonlyapplicant?” “No,Ihadadozen.” “Whydidyoupickhim?” “Becausehewashandyandwouldcomecheap.” “Athalf-wages,infact.” “Yes.” “Whatishelike,thisVincentSpaulding?” “Small,stout-built,veryquickinhisways,nohair on his face, though he’s not short of thirty. Has a whitesplashofaciduponhisforehead.” Holmessatupinhischairinconsiderableexcite- ment. “Ithoughtasmuch,”saidhe. “Haveyouever observedthathisearsarepiercedforearrings?” “Yes,sir. Hetoldmethatagipsyhaddoneitfor himwhenhewasalad.” “Hum!” said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. “Heisstillwithyou?” “Oh,yes,sir;Ihaveonlyjustlefthim.” “Andhasyourbusinessbeenattendedtoinyour absence?” “Nothing to complain of, sir. There’s never very muchtodoofamorning.” “Thatwilldo,Mr.Wilson. Ishallbehappytogive you an opinion upon the subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday, and I hope that by Mondaywemaycometoaconclusion.” “Well,Watson,”saidHolmeswhenourvisitorhad leftus,“whatdoyoumakeofitall?” “Imakenothingofit,”Iansweredfrankly. “Itisa mostmysteriousbusiness.” “As a rule,” said Holmes, “the more bizarre a thingisthelessmysteriousitprovestobe. Itisyour commonplace,featurelesscrimeswhicharereallypuz- zling,justasacommonplacefaceisthemostdifficult toidentify. ButImustbepromptoverthismatter.” “Whatareyougoingtodo,then?”Iasked.</s>“Tosmoke,”heanswered. “Itisquiteathreepipe problem, and I beg that you won’t speak to me for fiftyminutes.”Hecurledhimselfupinhischair,with his thin knees drawn up to his hawk-like nose, and there he sat with his eyes closed and his black clay pipe thrusting out like the bill of some strange bird.</s>I had come to the conclusion that he had dropped asleep, and indeed was nodding myself, when he suddenlysprangoutofhischairwiththegestureof amanwhohasmadeuphismindandputhispipe downuponthemantelpiece.</s>“Sarasate plays at the St. James’s Hall this after- noon,” he remarked. “What do you think, Watson? Couldyourpatientsspareyouforafewhours?” “Ihavenothingtodoto-day. Mypracticeisnever veryabsorbing.” “Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the City first, and we can have some lunch ontheway. IobservethatthereisagooddealofGer- manmusicontheprogramme,whichisrathermore tomytastethanItalianorFrench. Itisintrospective, andIwanttointrospect. Comealong!” WetravelledbytheUndergroundasfarasAlders- gate;andashortwalktookustoSaxe-CoburgSquare, thesceneofthesingularstorywhichwehadlistened tointhemorning. Itwasapoky,little,shabby-genteel place, where four lines of dingy two-storied brick houses looked out into a small railed-in enclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass and a few clumps of faded laurel-bushes made a hard fight against a smoke-laden and uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brown board with “Jabez Wilson” in white letters, upon a corner house, announced the place where our red-headed client carried on his business. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on one side and looked it all over, withhiseyesshiningbrightlybetweenpuckeredlids.</s>Thenhewalkedslowlyupthestreet,andthendownagaintothecorner,stilllookingkeenlyatthehouses.</s>Finally he returned to the pawnbroker’s, and, hav- ingthumpedvigorouslyuponthepavementwithhis sticktwoorthreetimes,hewentuptothedoorand knocked. Itwasinstantlyopenedbyabright-looking, clean-shavenyoungfellow,whoaskedhimtostepin.</s>“Thankyou,”saidHolmes,“Ionlywishedtoask youhowyouwouldgofromheretotheStrand.” “Thirdright,fourthleft,”answeredtheassistant promptly,closingthedoor.</s>“Smart fellow, that,” observed Holmes as we walked away. “He is, in my judgment, the fourth smartestmaninLondon,andfordaringIamnotsure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known somethingofhimbefore.” “Evidently,”saidI,“Mr.Wilson’sassistantcounts for a good deal in this mystery of the Red-headed League. Iamsurethatyouinquiredyourwaymerely inorderthatyoumightseehim.” “Nothim.” “Whatthen?” “Thekneesofhistrousers.” “Andwhatdidyousee?” “WhatIexpectedtosee.” “Whydidyoubeatthepavement?” “My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, notfortalk. Wearespiesinanenemy’scountry. We knowsomethingofSaxe-CoburgSquare. Letusnow explorethepartswhichliebehindit.” The road in which we found ourselves as we turnedroundthecornerfromtheretiredSaxe-Coburg Squarepresentedasgreatacontrasttoitasthefront ofapicturedoestotheback. Itwasoneofthemain arterieswhichconveyedthetrafficoftheCitytothe northandwest. Theroadwaywasblocked withthe immensestreamofcommerceflowinginadoubletide inwardandoutward,whilethefootpathswereblack withthehurryingswarmofpedestrians. Itwasdiffi- cult to realise as we looked at the line of fine shops andstatelybusinesspremisesthattheyreallyabutted ontheothersideuponthefadedandstagnantsquare whichwehadjustquitted.</s>“Letmesee,”saidHolmes,standingatthecorner andglancingalongtheline,“Ishouldlikejusttore- membertheorderofthehouseshere. Itisahobbyof minetohaveanexactknowledgeofLondon. Thereis Mortimer’s,thetobacconist,thelittlenewspapershop, the Coburg branch of the City and Suburban Bank, theVegetarianRestaurant,andMcFarlane’scarriage- buildingdepot. Thatcarriesusrightontotheother block. Andnow,Doctor,we’vedoneourwork,soit’s time we had some play. A sandwich and a cup of coffee,andthenofftoviolin-land,whereallissweet- ness and delicacy and harmony, and there are no red-headedclientstovexuswiththeirconundrums.” My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himselfnotonlyaverycapableperformerbutacom- poser of no ordinary merit. All the afternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happi- ness, gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to themusic,whilehisgentlysmilingfaceandhislan- guid, dreamy eyes were as unlike those of Holmes thesleuth-hound,Holmestherelentless,keen-witted, ready-handedcriminalagent,asitwaspossibletocon- ceive. Inhissingularcharacterthedualnaturealter- natelyasserteditself,andhisextremeexactnessand astuteness represented, as I have often thought, the reactionagainstthepoeticandcontemplativemood whichoccasionallypredominatedinhim. Theswing of his nature took him from extreme languor to de- vouringenergy;and,asIknewwell,hewasneverso truly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been lounging in his armchair amid his improvisa- tionsandhisblack-lettereditions. Thenitwasthatthe lustofthechasewouldsuddenlycomeuponhim,and that his brilliant reasoning power would rise to the levelofintuition,untilthosewhowereunacquainted withhismethodswouldlookaskanceathimasona manwhoseknowledgewasnotthatofothermortals.</s>WhenIsawhimthatafternoonsoenwrappedinthe musicatSt.James’sHallIfeltthataneviltimemight be coming upon those whom he had set himself to huntdown.</s>“You want to go home, no doubt, Doctor,” he remarkedasweemerged.</s>“Yes,itwouldbeaswell.” “AndIhavesomebusinesstodowhichwilltake some hours. This business at Coburg Square is seri- ous.” “Whyserious?” “Aconsiderablecrimeisincontemplation. Ihave every reason to believe that we shall be in time to stopit. Butto-daybeingSaturdayrathercomplicates matters. Ishallwantyourhelpto-night.” “Atwhattime?” “Tenwillbeearlyenough.” “IshallbeatBakerStreetatten.” “Verywell. And,Isay,Doctor,theremaybesome littledanger,sokindlyputyourarmyrevolverinyour pocket.”Hewavedhishand,turnedonhisheel,and disappearedinaninstantamongthecrowd.I trust that I am not more dense than my neigh- bours,butIwasalwaysoppressedwithasenseofmy ownstupidityinmydealingswithSherlockHolmes.</s>HereIhadheardwhathehadheard,Ihadseenwhat he had seen, and yet from his words it was evident thathesawclearlynotonlywhathadhappenedbut what was about to happen, while to me the whole businesswasstillconfusedandgrotesque. AsIdrove home to my house in Kensington I thought over it all, from the extraordinary story of the red-headed copier of the “Encyclopaedia” down to the visit to Saxe-Coburg Square, and the ominous words with whichhehadpartedfromme. Whatwasthisnoctur- nalexpedition,andwhyshouldIgoarmed? Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint from Holmes that this smooth-faced pawnbro- ker’s assistant was a formidable man—a man who mightplayadeepgame. Itriedtopuzzleitout,but gave it up in despair and set the matter aside until nightshouldbringanexplanation.</s>It was a quarter-past nine when I started from home and made my way across the Park, and so throughOxfordStreettoBakerStreet. Twohansoms were standing at the door, and as I entered the pas- sage I heard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room I found Holmes in animated con- versationwithtwomen,oneofwhomIrecognisedas PeterJones,theofficialpoliceagent,whiletheother wasalong,thin,sad-facedman,withaveryshinyhat andoppressivelyrespectablefrock-coat.</s>“Ha! Ourpartyiscomplete,”saidHolmes,button- ing up his pea-jacket and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. “Watson, I think you know Mr.</s>Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr. Merryweather, who is to be our companion in to-night’sadventure.” “We’rehuntingincouplesagain,Doctor,yousee,” saidJonesinhisconsequentialway. “Ourfriendhere isawonderfulmanforstartingachase. Allhewants isanolddogtohelphimtodotherunningdown.” “Ihopeawildgoosemaynotprovetobetheend ofourchase,”observedMr.Merryweathergloomily.</s>“You may place considerable confidence in Mr.</s>Holmes,sir,”saidthepoliceagentloftily. “Hehashis ownlittlemethods,whichare,ifhewon’tmindmy sayingso,justalittletootheoreticalandfantastic,but hehasthemakingsofadetectiveinhim. Itisnottoo muchtosaythatonceortwice,asinthatbusinessof theSholtomurderandtheAgratreasure,hehasbeen morenearlycorrectthantheofficialforce.” “Oh,ifyousayso,Mr.Jones,itisallright,”said the stranger with deference. “Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. It is the first Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that Ihavenot had myrub- ber.” “I think you will find,” said Sherlock Holmes, “that you will play for a higher stake to-night than youhaveeverdoneyet,andthattheplaywillbemore exciting. Foryou,Mr.Merryweather,thestakewillbe some £30,000; and for you, Jones, it will be the man uponwhomyouwishtolayyourhands.” “John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He’s a young man, Mr. Merryweather, but heisattheheadofhisprofession,andIwouldrather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. He’saremarkableman,isyoungJohnClay.</s>Hisgrandfatherwasaroyalduke,andhehimselfhas beentoEtonandOxford. Hisbrainisascunningas hisfingers,andthoughwemeetsignsofhimatevery turn,weneverknowwheretofindthemanhimself.</s>He’llcrackacribinScotlandoneweek,andberaising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next.</s>I’ve been on his track for years and have never set eyesonhimyet.” “IhopethatImayhavethepleasureofintroduc- ingyouto-night. I’vehadoneortwolittleturnsalso withMr.JohnClay,andIagreewithyouthatheisat theheadofhisprofession. Itispastten,however,and quite time that we started. If you two will take the firsthansom,WatsonandIwillfollowinthesecond.” SherlockHolmeswasnotverycommunicativedur- ingthelongdriveandlaybackinthecabhumming the tunes which he had heard in the afternoon. We rattledthroughanendlesslabyrinthofgas-litstreets untilweemergedintoFarringtonStreet.</s>“We are close there now,” my friend remarked.</s>“This fellow Merryweather is a bank director, and personally interested in the matter. I thought it as welltohaveJoneswithusalso. Heisnotabadfellow, though an absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one positive virtue. He is as brave as a bulldog andastenaciousasalobsterifhegetshisclawsupon anyone. Hereweare,andtheyarewaitingforus.” Wehadreachedthesamecrowdedthoroughfare inwhichwehadfoundourselvesinthemorning. Our cabsweredismissed,and,followingtheguidanceof Mr.Merryweather,wepasseddownanarrowpassage and through a side door, which he opened for us.</s>Withintherewasasmallcorridor,whichendedina verymassiveirongate. Thisalsowasopened,andled down a flight of winding stone steps, which termi- natedatanotherformidablegate. Mr.Merryweather stopped to light a lantern, and then conducted us down a dark, earth-smelling passage, and so, afteropeningathirddoor,intoahugevaultorcellar,which waspiledallroundwithcratesandmassiveboxes.</s>“Youarenotveryvulnerablefromabove,”Holmes remarkedasheheldupthelanternandgazedabout him.</s>“Norfrombelow,”saidMr.Merryweather,strik- ing his stick upon the flags which lined the floor.</s>“Why,dearme,itsoundsquitehollow!”heremarked, lookingupinsurprise.</s>“I must really ask you to be a little more quiet!” saidHolmesseverely. “Youhavealreadyimperilled thewholesuccessofourexpedition. MightIbegthat youwouldhavethegoodnesstositdownuponone ofthoseboxes,andnottointerfere?” The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself uponacrate,withaveryinjuredexpressionuponhis face,whileHolmesfelluponhiskneesuponthefloor and,withthelanternandamagnifyinglens,beganto examine minutely the cracks between the stones. A fewsecondssufficedtosatisfyhim,forhesprangto hisfeetagainandputhisglassinhispocket.</s>“Wehaveatleastanhourbeforeus,”heremarked, “for they can hardly take any steps until the good pawnbrokerissafelyinbed. Thentheywillnotlosea minute,forthesoonertheydotheirworkthelonger timetheywillhavefortheirescape. Weareatpresent, Doctor—asnodoubtyouhavedivined—inthecellar of the City branch of one of the principal London banks. Mr.Merryweatheristhechairmanofdirectors, andhewillexplaintoyouthattherearereasonswhy the more daring criminals of London should take a considerableinterestinthiscellaratpresent.” “It is our French gold,” whispered the director.</s>“Wehavehadseveralwarningsthatanattemptmight bemadeuponit.” “YourFrenchgold?” “Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthenourresourcesandborrowedforthatpur- pose30,000napoleonsfromtheBankofFrance. Ithas becomeknownthatwehaveneverhadoccasiontoun- packthemoney,andthatitisstilllyinginourcellar.</s>ThecrateuponwhichIsitcontains2,000napoleons packed between layers of lead foil. Our reserve of bullionismuchlargeratpresentthanisusuallykept inasinglebranchoffice,andthedirectorshavehad misgivingsuponthesubject.” “Which were very well justified,” observed Holmes. “And now it is time that we arranged our littleplans. Iexpectthatwithinanhourmatterswill cometoahead. InthemeantimeMr.Merryweather, wemustputthescreenoverthatdarklantern.” “Andsitinthedark?” “Iamafraidso. Ihadbroughtapackofcardsin my pocket, and I thought that, as we were a partie carre´e,youmighthaveyourrubberafterall. ButIsee that the enemy’s preparations have gone so far that we cannot risk the presence of a light. And, first of all, wemustchooseourpositions. Thesearedaring men, and though we shall take them at a disadvan- tage,theymaydoussomeharmunlesswearecareful.</s>I shall stand behind this crate, and do you conceal yourselves behind those. Then, when I flash a light uponthem,closeinswiftly. Iftheyfire,Watson,have nocompunctionaboutshootingthemdown.” Iplacedmyrevolver,cocked,uponthetopofthe woodencasebehindwhichIcrouched. Holmesshot theslideacrossthefrontofhislanternandleftusin pitchdarkness—suchanabsolutedarknessasIhave neverbeforeexperienced. Thesmellofhotmetalre- mainedtoassureusthatthelightwasstillthere,ready to flash out at a moment’s notice. To me, with my nervesworkeduptoapitchofexpectancy,therewas something depressing and subduing in the sudden gloom,andinthecolddankairofthevault.</s>“They have but one retreat,” whispered Holmes.</s>“That is back through the house into Saxe-Coburg Square. IhopethatyouhavedonewhatIaskedyou, Jones?” “I have an inspector and two officers waiting at thefrontdoor.” “Thenwehavestoppedalltheholes. Andnowwe mustbesilentandwait.” What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards it was but an hour and a quarter, yet it appearedtomethatthenightmusthavealmostgone andthedawnbebreakingaboveus. Mylimbswere weary and stiff, for I feared to change my position; yet my nerves were worked up to the highest pitch oftension,andmyhearingwassoacutethatIcould notonlyhearthegentlebreathingofmycompanions, butIcoulddistinguishthedeeper,heavierin-breath ofthebulkyJonesfromthethin,sighingnoteofthe bankdirector. FrommypositionIcouldlookoverthe case in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caughttheglintofalight.</s>At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then it lengthened out until it became a yellowline,andthen,withoutanywarningorsound, agashseemedtoopenandahandappeared,awhite, almostwomanlyhand,whichfeltaboutinthecentre of the little area of light. For a minute or more the hand,withitswrithingfingers,protrudedoutofthefloor. Then it was withdrawn as suddenly as it ap- peared, andallwasdarkagainsavethesinglelurid sparkwhichmarkedachinkbetweenthestones.</s>Its disappearance, however, was but momentary.</s>Witharending,tearingsound,oneofthebroad,white stones turned over upon its side and left a square, gaping hole, through which streamed the light of a lantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut, boyishface,whichlookedkeenlyaboutit,andthen, withahandoneithersideoftheaperture,drewitself shoulder-highandwaist-high,untilonekneerested upontheedge. Inanotherinstanthestoodattheside oftheholeandwashaulingafterhimacompanion, lithe and small like himself, with a pale face and a shockofveryredhair.</s>“It’sallclear,”hewhispered. “Haveyouthechisel andthebags? GreatScott! Jump,Archie,jump,and I’llswingforit!” Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar. The other dived down the hole,andIheardthesoundofrendingclothasJones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed upon the barrelofarevolver,butHolmes’huntingcropcame downontheman’swrist,andthepistolclinkedupon thestonefloor.</s>“It’snouse,JohnClay,”saidHolmesblandly. “You havenochanceatall.” “So I see,” the other answered with the utmost coolness. “I fancy that my pal is all right, though I seeyouhavegothiscoat-tails.” “Therearethreemenwaitingforhimatthedoor,” saidHolmes.</s>“Oh, indeed! You seem to have done the thing verycompletely. Imustcomplimentyou.” “AndIyou,”Holmesanswered. “Yourred-headed ideawasverynewandeffective.” “You’ll see your pal again presently,” said Jones.</s>“He’squickeratclimbingdownholesthanIam. Just holdoutwhileIfixthederbies.” “Ibegthatyouwillnottouchmewithyourfilthy hands,”remarkedourprisonerasthehandcuffsclat- tered upon his wrists. “You may not be aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have the goodness, also, when you address me always to say ‘sir’ and ‘please.’” “Allright,”saidJoneswithastareandasnigger.</s>“Well, would you please, sir, march upstairs, where wecangetacabtocarryyourHighnesstothepolice- station?” “Thatisbetter,”saidJohnClayserenely. Hemade asweepingbowtothethreeofusandwalkedquietly offinthecustodyofthedetective.</s>“Really, Mr. Holmes,” said Mr. Merryweather as we followed them from the cellar, “I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you. There is nodoubtthatyouhavedetectedanddefeatedinthe most complete manner one of the most determined attemptsatbankrobberythathaveevercomewithin myexperience.” “I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr. John Clay,” said Holmes. “I have been at some small expense over this matter, which I shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond that I amamplyrepaidbyhavinghadanexperiencewhich is in many ways unique, and by hearing the very remarkablenarrativeoftheRed-headedLeague.” “Yousee,Watson,”heexplainedintheearlyhours ofthemorningaswesatoveraglassofwhiskyand sodainBakerStreet,“itwasperfectlyobviousfrom the first that the only possible object of this rather fantasticbusinessoftheadvertisementoftheLeague, and the copying of the ‘Encyclopaedia,’ must be to get this not over-bright pawnbroker out of the way for a number of hours every day. It was a curious wayofmanagingit,but,really,itwouldbedifficultto suggestabetter. Themethodwasnodoubtsuggested toClay’singeniousmindbythecolourofhisaccom- plice’s hair. The £4 a week was a lure which must drawhim,andwhatwasittothem,whowereplaying for thousands? They put in the advertisement, one roguehasthetemporaryoffice,theotherrogueincites themantoapplyforit,andtogethertheymanageto securehisabsenceeverymorningintheweek. From thetimethatIheardoftheassistanthavingcomefor half wages, it was obvious to me that he had some strongmotiveforsecuringthesituation.” “Buthowcouldyouguesswhatthemotivewas?” “Had there been women in the house, I should havesuspectedamerevulgarintrigue. That,however, was out of the question. The man’s business was a smallone,andtherewasnothinginhishousewhich could account for such elaborate preparations, and such an expenditure as they were at. It must, then, be something out of the house. What could it be? I thoughtoftheassistant’sfondnessforphotography, and his trickof vanishing intothe cellar. The cellar! Therewastheendofthistangledclue. ThenImade inquiries as to this mysterious assistant and found that I had to deal with one of the coolest and most daringcriminalsinLondon. Hewasdoingsomethingin the cellar—something which took many hours a dayformonthsonend. Whatcoulditbe,oncemore? I could think of nothing save that he was running a tunneltosomeotherbuilding.</s>“SofarIhadgotwhenwewenttovisitthescene ofaction. Isurprisedyoubybeatinguponthepave- ment with my stick. I was ascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind. It was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, the assistantansweredit. Wehavehadsomeskirmishes, but we had never set eyes upon each other before.</s>I hardly looked at his face. His knees were what I wishedtosee. Youmustyourselfhaveremarkedhow worn,wrinkled,andstainedtheywere. Theyspokeof thosehoursofburrowing. Theonlyremainingpoint was what they were burrowing for. I walked round thecorner,sawtheCityandSuburbanBankabutted on our friend’s premises, and felt that I had solved myproblem. Whenyoudrovehomeaftertheconcert IcalleduponScotlandYardanduponthechairman of the bank directors, with the result that you have seen.” “And how could you tell that they would make theirattemptto-night?”Iasked.</s>“Well,whentheyclosedtheirLeagueofficesthat wasasignthattheycarednolongeraboutMr.Jabez Wilson’spresence—inotherwords,thattheyhadcom- pleted their tunnel. But it was essential that they shoulduseitsoon,asitmightbediscovered,orthe bullionmightberemoved. Saturdaywouldsuitthem betterthananyotherday,asitwouldgivethemtwo daysfortheirescape. ForallthesereasonsIexpected themtocometo-night.” “Youreasoneditoutbeautifully,”Iexclaimedin unfeignedadmiration. “Itissolongachain,andyet everylinkringstrue.” “Itsavedmefromennui,”heanswered,yawning.</s>“Alas! Ialreadyfeelitclosinginuponme. Mylifeis spentinonelongefforttoescapefromthecommon- placesofexistence. Theselittleproblemshelpmeto doso.” “Andyouareabenefactoroftherace,”saidI.</s>Heshruggedhisshoulders. “Well,perhaps,after all, itisofsomelittleuse,”heremarked. “‘L’homme c’est rien—l’oeuvre c’est tout,’ as Gustave Flaubert wrotetoGeorgeSand.”y dear fellow,” said Sherlock Holmes as we sat on either side of the fire in his lodgings at Baker Street, “life is infinitely M strangerthananythingwhichthemindof man could invent. We would not dare to conceive the things which are really mere commonplaces of existence. If we could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover over this great city, gently remove theroofs,andpeepinatthequeerthingswhichare going on, the strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-purposes, the wonderful chains of events, workingthroughgenerations,andleadingtothemost outre´ results, it would make all fiction with its con- ventionalitiesandforeseenconclusionsmoststaleand unprofitable.” “And yet I am not convinced of it,” I answered.</s>“Thecaseswhichcometolightinthepapersare,as arule,baldenough,andvulgarenough. Wehavein ourpolicereportsrealismpushedtoitsextremelim- its,andyettheresultis,itmustbeconfessed,neither fascinatingnorartistic.” “Acertainselectionanddiscretionmustbeusedin producingarealisticeffect,”remarkedHolmes. “This iswantinginthepolicereport,wheremorestressis laid, perhaps, upon the platitudes of the magistrate thanuponthedetails, whichtoanobservercontain thevitalessenceofthewholematter. Dependuponit, thereisnothingsounnaturalasthecommonplace.” I smiled and shook my head. “I can quite un- derstand your thinking so.” I said. “Of course, in your position of unofficial adviser and helper to ev- erybodywhoisabsolutelypuzzled,throughoutthree continents, you are brought in contact with all that is strange and bizarre. But here”—I picked up the morningpaperfromtheground—“letusputittoa practicaltest. HereisthefirstheadinguponwhichI come. ‘Ahusband’scrueltytohiswife.’ Thereishalf acolumnofprint,butIknowwithoutreadingitthat it is all perfectly familiar to me. There is, of course, the other woman, the drink, the push, the blow, the bruise,thesympatheticsisterorlandlady. Thecrudest ofwriterscouldinventnothingmorecrude.” “Indeed,yourexampleisanunfortunateonefor yourargument,”saidHolmes,takingthepaperand glancing his eye down it. “This is the Dundas sep- aration case, and, as it happens, I was engaged in clearing up some small points in connection with it. Thehusbandwasateetotaler,therewasnoother woman,andtheconductcomplainedofwasthathe haddriftedintothehabitofwindingupeverymeal bytakingouthisfalseteethandhurlingthemathis wife,which,youwillallow,isnotanactionlikelyto occur to the imagination of the average story-teller.</s>Takeapinchofsnuff,Doctor,andacknowledgethatI havescoredoveryouinyourexample.” Heheldouthissnuffboxofoldgold,withagreat amethystinthecentreofthelid. Itssplendourwasin suchcontrasttohishomelywaysandsimplelifethat Icouldnothelpcommentinguponit.</s>“Ah,” said he, “I forgot that I had not seen you forsomeweeks. ItisalittlesouvenirfromtheKing ofBohemiainreturnformyassistanceinthecaseof theIreneAdlerpapers.” “Andthering?”Iasked,glancingataremarkable brilliantwhichsparkleduponhisfinger.</s>“It was from the reigning family of Holland, though the matter in which I served them was of such delicacy that I cannot confide it even to you, whohavebeengoodenoughtochronicleoneortwo ofmylittleproblems.” “And have you any on hand just now?” I asked withinterest.</s>“Sometenortwelve,butnonewhichpresentany feature of interest. They are important, you under- stand,withoutbeinginteresting. Indeed,Ihavefound thatitisusuallyinunimportantmattersthatthereis afieldfortheobservation,andforthequickanalysis ofcauseandeffectwhichgivesthecharmtoaninves- tigation. Thelargercrimesareapttobethesimpler, forthebiggerthecrimethemoreobvious,asarule,is themotive. Inthesecases,saveforoneratherintricate matterwhichhasbeenreferredtomefromMarseilles, thereisnothingwhichpresentsanyfeaturesofinter- est. Itispossible,however,thatImayhavesomething betterbeforeverymanyminutesareover,forthisis oneofmyclients,orIammuchmistaken.” Hehadrisenfromhischairandwasstandingbe- tween the parted blinds gazing down into the dull neutral-tintedLondonstreet. Lookingoverhisshoul- der,Isawthatonthepavementoppositetherestood alargewomanwithaheavyfurboaroundherneck, and a large curling red feather in a broad-brimmed hat which was tilted in a coquettish Duchess of De- vonshirefashionoverherear. Fromunderthisgreat panoplyshepeepedupinanervous,hesitatingfash- ionatourwindows,whileherbodyoscillatedback- wardandforward,andherfingersfidgetedwithher glove buttons. Suddenly, with a plunge, as of the swimmerwholeavesthebank,shehurriedacrossthe road,andweheardthesharpclangofthebell.</s>“Ihaveseenthosesymptomsbefore,”saidHolmes, throwinghiscigaretteintothefire. “Oscillationupon the pavement always means an affaire de coeur. She would like advice, but is not sure that the matter isnot too delicate for communication. And yet even herewemaydiscriminate. Whenawomanhasbeen seriouslywrongedbyamanshenolongeroscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken bell wire. Here wemaytakeitthatthereisalovematter,butthatthe maidenisnotsomuchangryasperplexed,orgrieved.</s>Buthereshecomesinpersontoresolveourdoubts.” Ashespoketherewasatapatthedoor,andthe boyinbuttonsenteredtoannounceMissMarySuther- land,whiletheladyherselfloomedbehindhissmall black figure like a full-sailed merchant-man behind a tiny pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes welcomed her withtheeasycourtesyforwhichhewasremarkable, and, having closed the door and bowed her into an armchair, he looked her over in the minute and yet abstractedfashionwhichwaspeculiartohim.</s>“Doyounotfind,”hesaid,“thatwithyourshort sightitisalittletryingtodosomuchtypewriting?” “I did at first,” she answered, “but now I know where the letters are without looking.” Then, sud- denlyrealisingthefullpurportofhiswords,shegave aviolentstartandlookedup,withfearandastonish- mentuponherbroad,good-humouredface. “You’ve heard about me, Mr. Holmes,” she cried, “else how couldyouknowallthat?” “Never mind,” said Holmes, laughing; “it is my businesstoknowthings. PerhapsIhavetrainedmy- selftoseewhatothersoverlook. Ifnot,whyshould youcometoconsultme?” “I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from Mrs. Etherege, whose husband you found so easy whenthepoliceandeveryonehadgivenhimupfor dead. Oh,Mr.Holmes,Iwishyouwoulddoasmuch forme. I’mnotrich,butstillIhaveahundredayear inmyownright,besidesthelittlethatImakebythe machine, and I would give it all to know what has becomeofMr.HosmerAngel.” “Whydidyoucomeawaytoconsultmeinsucha hurry?”askedSherlockHolmes,withhisfinger-tips togetherandhiseyestotheceiling.</s>Againastartledlookcameoverthesomewhatvac- uousfaceofMissMarySutherland. “Yes,Ididbang out of the house,” she said, “for it made me angry to see the easy way in which Mr. Windibank—that is, my father—took it all. He would not go to the police,andhewouldnotgotoyou,andsoatlast,as he would do nothing and kept on saying that there was no harm done, it made me mad, and I just on withmythingsandcamerightawaytoyou.” “Your father,” said Holmes, “your stepfather, surely,sincethenameisdifferent.” “Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though it sounds funny, too, for he is only five years and two monthsolderthanmyself.” “Andyourmotherisalive?” “Oh, yes, mother is alive and well. I wasn’t best pleased,Mr.Holmes,whenshemarriedagainsosoon afterfather’sdeath,andamanwhowasnearlyfifteen yearsyoungerthanherself. Fatherwasaplumberin theTottenhamCourtRoad,andheleftatidybusiness behindhim,whichmothercarriedonwithMr.Hardy, theforeman;butwhenMr.Windibankcamehemade hersellthebusiness,forhewasverysuperior,being atravellerinwines. Theygot£4700forthegoodwill and interest, which wasn’t near as much as father couldhavegotifhehadbeenalive.” IhadexpectedtoseeSherlockHolmesimpatient under this rambling and inconsequential narrative, but,onthecontrary,hehadlistenedwiththegreatest concentrationofattention.</s>“Yourownlittleincome,”heasked,“doesitcome outofthebusiness?” “Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate and was left me bymyuncleNedinAuckland. ItisinNewZealand stock, paying 41/2 per cent. Two thousand five hun- dred pounds was the amount, but I can only touch theinterest.” “Youinterestmeextremely,”saidHolmes. “And since you draw so large a sum as a hundred a year, with what you earn into the bargain, you no doubt travel a little and indulge yourself in every way. I believethatasingleladycangetonverynicelyupon anincomeofabout£60.” “Icoulddowithmuchlessthanthat,Mr.Holmes, but you understand that as long as I live at home I don’t wish to be a burden to them, and so they have the use of the money just while I am staying with them. Of course, that is only just for the time.</s>Mr.Windibankdrawsmyinteresteveryquarterand paysitovertomother,andIfindthatIcandopretty well with what I earn at typewriting. It brings me twopenceasheet,andIcanoftendofromfifteento twentysheetsinaday.” “Youhavemadeyourpositionverycleartome,” said Holmes. “This is my friend, Dr. Watson, be- forewhomyoucanspeakasfreelyasbeforemyself.</s>KindlytellusnowallaboutyourconnectionwithMr.</s>HosmerAngel.” AflushstoleoverMissSutherland’sface,andshe picked nervously at the fringe of her jacket. “I met himfirstatthegasfitters’ball,”shesaid. “Theyused to send father tickets when he was alive, and thenafterwards they remembered us, and sent them to mother. Mr. Windibank did not wish us to go. He never did wish us to go anywhere. He would get quite mad if I wanted so much as to join a Sunday- school treat. But this time I was set on going, and I would go; for what right had he to prevent? He said the folk were not fit for us to know, when all father’sfriendsweretobethere. AndhesaidthatI hadnothingfittowear,whenIhadmypurpleplush thatIhadneversomuchastakenoutofthedrawer.</s>At last, when nothing else would do, he went off to France upon the business of the firm, but we went, mother and I, with Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman,anditwasthereImetMr.HosmerAngel.” “I suppose,” said Holmes, “that when Mr.</s>Windibank came back from France he was very an- noyedatyourhavinggonetotheball.” “Oh,well,hewasverygoodaboutit. Helaughed, I remember, and shrugged his shoulders, and said therewasnousedenyinganythingtoawoman,for shewouldhaveherway.” “I see. Then at the gasfitters’ ball you met, as I understand,agentlemancalledMr.HosmerAngel.” “Yes,sir. Imethimthatnight,andhecallednext daytoaskifwehadgothomeallsafe,andafterthat we met him—that is to say, Mr. Holmes, I met him twiceforwalks,butafterthatfathercamebackagain, andMr.HosmerAngelcouldnotcometothehouse anymore.” “No?” “Well,youknowfatherdidn’tlikeanythingofthe sort. Hewouldn’thaveanyvisitorsifhecouldhelp it,andheusedtosaythatawomanshouldbehappy inherownfamilycircle. Butthen,asIusedtosayto mother,awomanwantsherowncircletobeginwith, andIhadnotgotmineyet.” “ButhowaboutMr.HosmerAngel? Didhemake noattempttoseeyou?” “Well, father was going off to France again in a week, and Hosmer wrote and said that it would be safer and better not to see each other until he had gone. Wecouldwriteinthemeantime,andheused towriteeveryday. Itookthelettersininthemorning, sotherewasnoneedforfathertoknow.” “Wereyouengagedtothegentlemanatthistime?” “Oh,yes,Mr.Holmes. Wewereengagedafterthe firstwalkthatwetook. Hosmer—Mr.Angel—wasa cashierinanofficeinLeadenhallStreet—and—” “Whatoffice?” “That’stheworstofit,Mr.Holmes,Idon’tknow.” “Wheredidhelive,then?” “Hesleptonthepremises.” “Andyoudon’tknowhisaddress?” “No—exceptthatitwasLeadenhallStreet.” “Wheredidyouaddressyourletters,then?” “TotheLeadenhallStreetPostOffice,tobelefttill calledfor. Hesaidthatiftheyweresenttotheoffice hewouldbechaffedbyalltheotherclerksabouthav- inglettersfromalady,soIofferedtotypewritethem, likehedidhis,buthewouldn’thavethat,forhesaid that when I wrote them they seemed to come from me, but when they were typewritten he always felt thatthemachinehadcomebetweenus. Thatwilljust showyouhowfondhewasofme,Mr.Holmes,and thelittlethingsthathewouldthinkof.” “It was most suggestive,” said Holmes. “It has longbeenanaxiomofminethatthelittlethingsare infinitelythemostimportant. Canyourememberany otherlittlethingsaboutMr.HosmerAngel?” “Hewasaveryshyman,Mr.Holmes. Hewould rather walk with me in the evening than in the day- light,forhesaidthathehatedtobeconspicuous. Very retiringandgentlemanlyhewas. Evenhisvoicewas gentle. He’dhadthequinsyandswollenglandswhen hewasyoung,hetoldme,andithadlefthimwitha weakthroat,andahesitating,whisperingfashionof speech. He was always well dressed, very neat and plain, but his eyes were weak, just as mine are, and heworetintedglassesagainsttheglare.” “Well,andwhathappenedwhenMr.Windibank, yourstepfather,returnedtoFrance?” “Mr.HosmerAngelcametothehouseagainand proposed that we should marry before father came back. Hewasindreadfulearnestandmademeswear, withmyhandsontheTestament,thatwhateverhap- pened I would always be true to him. Mother said hewasquiterighttomakemeswear,andthatitwas a sign of his passion. Mother was all in his favour fromthefirstandwasevenfonderofhimthanIwas.</s>Then,whentheytalkedofmarryingwithintheweek, Ibegantoaskaboutfather;buttheybothsaidnever tomindaboutfather,butjusttotellhimafterwards, andmothersaidshewouldmakeitallrightwithhim.</s>Ididn’tquitelikethat,Mr.Holmes. Itseemedfunny thatIshouldaskhisleave,ashewasonlyafewyears older than me; but I didn’t want to do anything on the sly, so I wrote to father at Bordeaux, where the company has its French offices, but the letter came backtomeontheverymorningofthewedding.” “Itmissedhim,then?”“Yes,sir;forhehadstartedtoEnglandjustbefore itarrived.” “Ha! that was unfortunate. Your wedding was arranged,then,fortheFriday. Wasittobeinchurch?” “Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St.</s>Saviour’s, near King’s Cross, and we were to have breakfastafterwardsattheSt.PancrasHotel. Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were two of us heput us bothinto it and steppedhimself into a four-wheeler, which happened to be the only other cabinthestreet. Wegottothechurchfirst,andwhen thefour-wheelerdroveupwewaitedforhimtostep out,butheneverdid,andwhenthecabmangotdown fromtheboxandlookedtherewasnoonethere! The cabmansaidthathecouldnotimaginewhathadbe- comeofhim,forhehadseenhimgetinwithhisown eyes. That was last Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have neverseenorheardanythingsincethentothrowany lightuponwhatbecameofhim.” “It seems to me that you have been very shame- fullytreated,”saidHolmes.</s>“Oh, no, sir! He was too good and kind to leave meso. Why,allthemorninghewassayingtomethat, whatever happened, I was to be true; and that even if something quite unforeseen occurred to separate us,IwasalwaystorememberthatIwaspledgedto him, and that he would claim his pledge sooner or later. Itseemedstrangetalkforawedding-morning, butwhathashappenedsincegivesameaningtoit.” “Mostcertainlyitdoes. Yourownopinionis,then, that some unforeseen catastrophe has occurred to him?” “Yes,sir. Ibelievethatheforesawsomedanger,or else he would not have talked so. And then I think thatwhatheforesawhappened.” “Butyouhavenonotionastowhatitcouldhave been?” “None.” “Onemorequestion. Howdidyourmothertake thematter?” “Shewasangry,andsaidthatIwasnevertospeak ofthematteragain.” “Andyourfather? Didyoutellhim?” “Yes;andheseemedtothink,withme,thatsome- thing had happened, and thatI should hear of Hos- mer again. As he said, what interest could anyone haveinbringingmetothedoorsofthechurch,and thenleavingme? Now,ifhehadborrowedmymoney, or if he had married me and got my money settled onhim,theremightbesomereason,butHosmerwas veryindependentaboutmoneyandneverwouldlook atashillingofmine. Andyet,whatcouldhavehap- pened? And why could he not write? Oh, it drives me half-mad to think of it, and I can’t sleep a wink atnight.”Shepulledalittlehandkerchiefoutofher muffandbegantosobheavilyintoit.</s>“Ishallglanceintothecaseforyou,”saidHolmes, rising,“andIhavenodoubtthatweshallreachsome definiteresult. Lettheweightofthematterrestupon menow,anddonotletyourminddwelluponitfur- ther. Above all, try to let Mr. Hosmer Angel vanish fromyourmemory,ashehasdonefromyourlife.” “Thenyoudon’tthinkI’llseehimagain?” “Ifearnot.” “Thenwhathashappenedtohim?” “You will leave that question in my hands. I should like an accurate description of him and any lettersofhiswhichyoucanspare.” “IadvertisedforhiminlastSaturday’sChronicle,” said she. “Here is the slip and here are four letters fromhim.” “Thankyou. Andyouraddress?” “No.31LyonPlace,Camberwell.” “Mr.Angel’saddressyouneverhad,Iunderstand.</s>Whereisyourfather’splaceofbusiness?” “He travels for Westhouse & Marbank, the great claretimportersofFenchurchStreet.” “Thankyou. Youhavemadeyourstatementvery clearly. Youwillleavethepapershere,andremember the advice which I have given you. Let the whole incidentbeasealedbook,anddonotallowittoaffect yourlife.” “Youareverykind,Mr.Holmes,butIcannotdo that. IshallbetruetoHosmer. Heshallfindmeready whenhecomesback.” Forallthepreposteroushatandthevacuousface, therewassomethingnobleinthesimplefaithofour visitorwhichcompelledourrespect. Shelaidherlittle bundle of papers upon the table and went her way, withapromisetocomeagainwhenevershemightbe summoned.</s>SherlockHolmessatsilentforafewminuteswith hisfingertipsstillpressedtogether,hislegsstretched outinfrontofhim,andhisgazedirectedupwardto theceiling. Thenhetookdownfromtheracktheold andoilyclaypipe,whichwastohimasacounsellor, and,havinglitit,heleanedbackinhischair,withthe thickbluecloud-wreathsspinningupfromhim,and alookofinfinitelanguorinhisface.“Quiteaninterestingstudy,thatmaiden,”heob- served. “Ifoundhermoreinterestingthanherlittle problem,which,bytheway,isratheratriteone. You will find parallel cases, if you consult my index, in Andoverin’77,andtherewassomethingofthesort at The Hague last year. Old as is the idea, however, therewereoneortwodetailswhichwerenewtome.</s>Butthemaidenherselfwasmostinstructive.” “You appeared to read a good deal upon her whichwasquiteinvisibletome,”Iremarked.</s>“Notinvisiblebutunnoticed,Watson. Youdidnot knowwheretolook,andsoyoumissedallthatwas important. Icanneverbringyoutorealisetheimpor- tanceofsleeves,thesuggestivenessofthumb-nails,or thegreatissuesthatmayhangfromaboot-lace. Now, whatdidyougatherfromthatwoman’sappearance? Describeit.” “Well, she had a slate-coloured, broad-brimmed strawhat,withafeatherofabrickishred. Herjacket wasblack,withblackbeadssewnuponit,andafringe of little black jet ornaments. Her dress was brown, ratherdarkerthancoffeecolour,withalittlepurple plushattheneckandsleeves. Herglovesweregreyish and were worn through at the right forefinger. Her boots I didn’t observe. She had small round, hang- ing gold earrings, and a general air of being fairly well-to-doinavulgar,comfortable,easy-goingway.” SherlockHolmesclappedhishandssoftlytogether andchuckled.</s>“’Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along wonderfully. Youhavereallydoneverywellindeed.</s>It is true that you have missed everything of impor- tance, but you have hit upon the method, and you have a quick eye for colour. Never trust to general impressions,myboy,butconcentrateyourselfupon details. Myfirstglanceisalwaysatawoman’ssleeve.</s>Inamanitisperhapsbetterfirsttotakethekneeof the trouser. As you observe, this woman had plush uponhersleeves,whichisamostusefulmaterialfor showing traces. The double line a little above the wrist,wherethetypewritistpressesagainstthetable, wasbeautifullydefined. Thesewing-machine,ofthe handtype,leavesasimilarmark,butonlyontheleft arm, and on the side of it farthest from the thumb, instead of being right across the broadest part, as this was. I then glanced at her face, and, observing the dint of a pince-nez at either side of her nose, I venturedaremarkuponshortsightandtypewriting, whichseemedtosurpriseher.” “Itsurprisedme.” “But,surely,itwasobvious. Iwasthenmuchsur- prised and interested on glancing down to observe that, thoughthe bootswhich shewaswearing were notunlikeeachother,theywerereallyoddones;the onehavingaslightlydecoratedtoe-cap,andtheother aplainone. Onewasbuttonedonlyinthetwolower buttons out of five, and the other at the first, third, andfifth. Now,whenyouseethatayounglady,other- wiseneatlydressed,hascomeawayfromhomewith oddboots,half-buttoned,itisnogreatdeductionto saythatshecameawayinahurry.” “Andwhatelse?”Iasked,keenlyinterested,asI alwayswas,bymyfriend’sincisivereasoning.</s>“I noted, in passing, that she had written a note before leaving home but after being fully dressed.</s>You observed that her right glove was torn at the forefinger, but you did not apparently see that both glove and finger were stained with violet ink. She hadwritteninahurryanddippedherpentoodeep.</s>It must have been this morning, or the mark would not remain clear upon the finger. All this is amus- ing,thoughratherelementary,butImustgobackto business, Watson. Would you mind reading me the advertiseddescriptionofMr.HosmerAngel?” Iheldthelittleprintedsliptothelight.</s>“Missing,” it said, “on the morning of the fourteenth, a gentleman named Hos- mer Angel. About five ft. seven in. in height; strongly built, sallow complex- ion, black hair, a little bald in the cen- tre,bushy,blackside-whiskersandmous- tache; tinted glasses, slight infirmity of speech. Was dressed, when last seen, in black frock-coat faced with silk, black waistcoat,goldAlbertchain,andgreyHar- ristweedtrousers,withbrowngaitersover elastic-sided boots. Known to have been employedinanofficeinLeadenhallStreet.</s>Anybodybringing—” “That will do,” said Holmes. “As to the letters,” hecontinued,glancingoverthem,“theyareverycom- monplace. AbsolutelynoclueinthemtoMr.Angel, savethathequotesBalzaconce. Thereisoneremark- ablepoint,however,whichwillnodoubtstrikeyou.” “Theyaretypewritten,”Iremarked.</s>“Not only that, but the signature is typewritten.</s>Lookattheneatlittle‘HosmerAngel’atthebottom.</s>Thereisadate,yousee,butnosuperscriptionexcept Leadenhall Street, which is rather vague. The pointabout the signature is very suggestive—in fact, we maycallitconclusive.” “Ofwhat?” “Mydearfellow,isitpossibleyoudonotseehow stronglyitbearsuponthecase?” “I cannot say that I do unless it were that he wished to be able to deny his signature if an action forbreachofpromisewereinstituted.” “No,thatwasnotthepoint. However,Ishallwrite two letters, which should settle the matter. One is toafirmintheCity,theotheristotheyounglady’s stepfather, Mr. Windibank, asking him whether he couldmeetushereatsixo’clocktomorrowevening.</s>Itisjustaswellthatweshoulddobusinesswiththe malerelatives. Andnow,Doctor,wecandonothing untiltheanswerstothoseletterscome,sowemayput ourlittleproblemupontheshelffortheinterim.” I had had so many reasons to believe in my friend’ssubtlepowersofreasoningandextraordinary energy in action that I felt that he must have some solid grounds for the assured and easy demeanour withwhichhetreatedthesingularmysterywhichhe had been called upon to fathom. Once only had I knownhimtofail,inthecaseoftheKingofBohemia andoftheIreneAdlerphotograph;butwhenIlooked back to the weird business of the Sign of Four, and theextraordinarycircumstancesconnectedwiththe StudyinScarlet,Ifeltthatitwouldbeastrangetangle indeedwhichhecouldnotunravel.</s>Ilefthimthen,stillpuffingathisblackclaypipe, with the conviction that when I came again on the nexteveningIwouldfindthatheheldinhishandsall theclueswhichwouldleaduptotheidentityofthe disappearingbridegroomofMissMarySutherland.</s>Aprofessionalcaseofgreatgravitywasengaging myownattentionatthetime,andthewholeofnext dayIwasbusyatthebedsideofthesufferer. Itwas not until close upon six o’clock that I found myself freeandwasabletospringintoahansomanddrive toBakerStreet,halfafraidthatImightbetoolateto assistatthede´nouementofthelittlemystery. Ifound Sherlock Holmes alone, however, half asleep, with his long, thin form curled up in the recesses of his armchair. Aformidablearrayofbottlesandtest-tubes, withthepungentcleanlysmellofhydrochloricacid, told me that he had spent his day in the chemical workwhichwassodeartohim.</s>“Well,haveyousolvedit?”IaskedasIentered.</s>“Yes. Itwasthebisulphateofbaryta.” “No,no,themystery!”Icried.</s>“Oh, that! I thought of the salt that I have been working upon. There was never any mystery in the matter,though,asIsaidyesterday,someofthedetails areofinterest. Theonlydrawbackisthatthereisno law,Ifear,thatcantouchthescoundrel.” “Who was he, then, and what was his object in desertingMissSutherland?” The question was hardly out of my mouth, and Holmeshadnotyetopenedhislipstoreply,whenwe heardaheavyfootfallinthepassageandatapatthe door.</s>“This is the girl’s stepfather, Mr. James Windibank,” said Holmes. “He has written to me tosaythathewouldbehereatsix. Comein!” Themanwhoenteredwasasturdy,middle-sized fellow, some thirty years of age, clean-shaven, and sallow-skinned, with a bland, insinuating manner, andapairofwonderfullysharpandpenetratinggrey eyes. He shot a questioning glance at each of us, placed his shiny top-hat upon the sideboard, and withaslightbowsidleddownintothenearestchair.</s>“Good-evening, Mr. James Windibank,” said Holmes. “Ithinkthatthistypewrittenletterisfrom you,inwhichyoumadeanappointmentwithmefor sixo’clock?” “Yes, sir. I am afraid that I am a little late, but I amnotquitemyownmaster, youknow. Iamsorry thatMissSutherlandhastroubledyouaboutthislittle matter,forIthinkitisfarbetternottowashlinenof thesortinpublic. Itwasquiteagainstmywishesthat shecame,butsheisaveryexcitable,impulsivegirl, as you may have noticed, and she is not easily con- trolled when she has made up her mind on a point.</s>Of course, I did not mind you so much, as you are not connected with the official police, but it is not pleasanttohaveafamilymisfortunelikethisnoised abroad. Besides,itisauselessexpense,forhowcould youpossiblyfindthisHosmerAngel?” “Onthecontrary,”saidHolmesquietly;“Ihaveev- eryreasontobelievethatIwillsucceedindiscovering Mr.HosmerAngel.” Mr.Windibankgaveaviolentstartanddropped hisgloves. “Iamdelightedtohearit,”hesaid.</s>“Itisacuriousthing,”remarkedHolmes,“thata typewriterhasreallyquiteasmuchindividualityas aman’shandwriting. Unlesstheyarequitenew,no twoofthemwriteexactlyalike. Somelettersgetmore worn than others, and some wear only on one side.</s>Now,youremarkinthisnoteofyours,Mr.Windibank, thatineverycasethereissomelittleslurringoverof the‘e,’andaslightdefectinthetailofthe‘r.’ Thereare fourteen other characteristics, but those are the moreobvious.” “Wedoallourcorrespondencewiththismachine at the office, and no doubt it is a little worn,” our visitoranswered,glancingkeenlyatHolmeswithhis brightlittleeyes.</s>“And now I will show you what is really a very interestingstudy,Mr.Windibank,”Holmescontinued.</s>“I think of writing another little monograph some of these days on the typewriter and its relation to crime. It is a subject to which I have devoted some littleattention. Ihaveherefourletterswhichpurport to come from the missing man. They are all type- written. In each case, not only are the ‘e’s’ slurred andthe‘r’s’tailless,butyouwillobserve,ifyoucare to use my magnifying lens, that the fourteen other characteristics to which I have alluded are there as well.” Mr.Windibanksprangoutofhischairandpicked up his hat. “I cannot waste time over this sort of fantastictalk,Mr.Holmes,”hesaid. “Ifyoucancatch theman,catchhim,andletmeknowwhenyouhave doneit.” “Certainly,”saidHolmes,steppingoverandturn- ingthekeyinthedoor. “Iletyouknow,then,thatI havecaughthim!” “What! where?”shoutedMr.Windibank,turning whitetohislipsandglancingabouthimlikearatin atrap.</s>“Oh, it won’t do—really it won’t,” said Holmes suavely. “There is no possible getting out of it, Mr.</s>Windibank. It is quite too transparent, and it was a very bad compliment when you said that it was im- possibleformetosolvesosimpleaquestion. That’s right! Sitdownandletustalkitover.” Ourvisitor collapsedintoachair, withaghastly face and a glitter of moisture on his brow. “It—it’s notactionable,”hestammered.</s>“Iamverymuchafraidthatitisnot. Butbetween ourselves,Windibank,itwasascruelandselfishand heartless a trick in a petty way as ever came before me. Now, let me just run over the course of events, andyouwillcontradictmeifIgowrong.” Themansathuddledupinhischair,withhishead sunkuponhisbreast,likeonewhoisutterlycrushed.</s>Holmesstuckhisfeetuponthecornerofthemantel- pieceand,leaningbackwithhishandsinhispockets, begantalking,rathertohimself,asitseemed,thanto us.</s>“Themanmarriedawomanverymucholderthan himselfforhermoney,”saidhe,“andheenjoyedthe useofthemoneyofthedaughteraslongasshelived withthem. Itwasaconsiderablesum,forpeoplein theirposition,andthelossofitwouldhavemadease- riousdifference. Itwasworthanefforttopreserveit.</s>Thedaughterwasofagood,amiabledisposition,but affectionateandwarm-heartedinherways,sothatit was evident that with her fair personal advantages, and her little income, she would not be allowed to remainsinglelong. Nowhermarriagewouldmean, ofcourse,thelossofahundredayear,sowhatdoes herstepfatherdotopreventit? Hetakestheobvious courseofkeepingherathomeandforbiddingherto seekthecompanyofpeopleofherownage. Butsoon he found that that would not answer forever. She becamerestive,insisteduponherrights,andfinally announcedherpositiveintentionofgoingtoacertain ball. What does her clever stepfather do then? He conceivesanideamorecreditabletohisheadthanto hisheart. Withtheconnivanceandassistanceofhis wife he disguised himself, covered those keen eyes withtintedglasses,maskedthefacewithamoustache and a pair of bushy whiskers, sunk that clear voice into an insinuating whisper, and doubly secure on account of the girl’s short sight, he appears as Mr.</s>HosmerAngel,andkeepsoffotherloversbymaking lovehimself.” “It was only a joke at first,” groaned our visitor.</s>“Weneverthoughtthatshewouldhavebeensocar- riedaway.” “Verylikelynot. Howeverthatmaybe,theyoung lady was very decidedly carried away, and, having quite made up her mind that her stepfather was in France,thesuspicionoftreacheryneverforaninstant entered her mind. She was flattered by the gentle- man’sattentions,andtheeffectwasincreasedbythe loudlyexpressedadmirationofhermother. ThenMr.</s>Angelbegantocall,foritwasobviousthatthematter shouldbepushedasfarasitwouldgoifarealeffect were to be produced. There were meetings, and an engagement, which would finally secure the girl’s affectionsfromturningtowardsanyoneelse. Butthe deception could not be kept up forever. These pre- tendedjourneystoFrancewererathercumbrous. The thingtodowasclearlytobringthebusinesstoanend insuchadramaticmannerthatitwouldleaveaper- manentimpressionupontheyounglady’smindand prevent her from looking upon any other suitor for sometimetocome. Hencethosevowsoffidelityex- acteduponaTestament,andhencealsotheallusions toapossibilityofsomethinghappeningonthevery morning of the wedding. James Windibank wished Miss Sutherland to be so bound to Hosmer Angel,and so uncertain as to his fate, that for ten years to come,atanyrate,shewouldnotlistentoanotherman.</s>As far as the church door he brought her, and then, ashe couldgo nofarther, he convenientlyvanished awaybytheoldtrickofsteppinginatonedoorofa four-wheeler and out at the other. I think that was thechainofevents,Mr.Windibank!” Ourvisitorhadrecoveredsomethingofhisassur- ance while Holmes had been talking, and he rose from his chair now with a cold sneer upon his pale face.</s>“Itmaybeso,oritmaynot,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe, “but if you are so very sharp you ought to be sharp enoughtoknowthatitisyouwhoarebreakingthe law now, and not me. I have done nothing action- ablefromthefirst,butaslongasyoukeepthatdoor lockedyoulayyourselfopentoanactionforassault andillegalconstraint.” “The law cannot, as you say, touch you,” said Holmes,unlockingandthrowingopenthedoor,“yet there never was a man who deserved punishment more. Iftheyoungladyhasabrotherorafriend,he oughttolayawhipacrossyourshoulders. ByJove!” he continued, flushing up at the sight of the bitter sneerupontheman’sface,“itisnotpartofmyduties tomyclient,buthere’sahuntingcrophandy,andI thinkIshalljusttreatmyselfto—”Hetooktwoswift stepstothewhip,butbeforehecouldgraspitthere wasawildclatterofstepsuponthestairs,theheavy halldoorbanged,andfromthewindowwecouldsee Mr.JamesWindibankrunningatthetopofhisspeed downtheroad.</s>“There’sacold-bloodedscoundrel!”saidHolmes, laughing, as he threw himself down into his chair oncemore. “Thatfellowwillrisefromcrimetocrime untilhedoessomethingverybad,andendsonagal- lows. Thecasehas,insomerespects,beennotentirely devoidofinterest.” “I cannot now entirely see all the steps of your reasoning,”Iremarked.</s>“Well,ofcourseitwasobviousfromthefirstthat thisMr.HosmerAngelmusthavesomestrongobject forhiscuriousconduct,anditwasequallyclearthat theonlymanwhoreallyprofitedbytheincident,as faraswecouldsee,wasthestepfather. Thenthefact that the two men were never together, but that the onealwaysappearedwhentheotherwasaway,was suggestive. Sowerethetintedspectaclesandthecuri- ousvoice,whichbothhintedatadisguise,asdidthe bushy whiskers. My suspicions were all confirmed by his peculiar action in typewriting his signature, which, of course, inferred that his handwriting was sofamiliartoherthatshewouldrecogniseeventhe smallestsampleofit. Youseealltheseisolatedfacts, together with many minor ones, all pointed in the samedirection.” “Andhowdidyouverifythem?” “Having once spotted my man, it was easy to get corroboration. I knew the firm for which this man worked. Having taken the printed description, I eliminated everything from it which could be the result of a disguise—the whiskers, the glasses, the voice, and I sent it to the firm, with a request that they would inform me whether it answered to the description of any of their travellers. I had already noticedthepeculiaritiesofthetypewriter,andIwrote tothemanhimselfathisbusinessaddressaskinghim ifhewouldcomehere. AsIexpected,hisreplywas typewritten and revealed the same trivial but char- acteristicdefects. Thesamepostbroughtmealetter fromWesthouse&Marbank,ofFenchurchStreet,to saythatthedescriptiontalliedineveryrespectwith thatoftheiremployee,JamesWindibank. Voila` tout!” “AndMissSutherland?” “If I tell her she will not believe me. You may remember the old Persian saying, ‘There is danger forhimwhotakeththetigercub,anddangeralsofor whososnatchesadelusionfromawoman.’ Thereis as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much knowledgeoftheworld.”e were seated at breakfast one morning, mywifeandI,whenthemaidbroughtin atelegram. ItwasfromSherlockHolmes W andraninthisway: “Haveyouacoupleofdaystospare? Have justbeenwiredforfromthewestofEng- landinconnectionwithBoscombeValley tragedy. Shall be glad if you will come with me. Air and scenery perfect. Leave Paddingtonbythe11.15.” “What do you say, dear?” said my wife, looking acrossatme. “Willyougo?” “I really don’t know what to say. I have a fairly longlistatpresent.” “Oh,Anstrutherwoulddoyourworkforyou. You havebeenlookingalittlepalelately. Ithinkthatthe change would do you good, and you are always so interestedinMr.SherlockHolmes’cases.” “IshouldbeungratefulifIwerenot,seeingwhat Igainedthroughoneofthem,”Ianswered. “ButifI amtogo,Imustpackatonce,forIhaveonlyhalfan hour.” MyexperienceofcamplifeinAfghanistanhadat leasthadtheeffectofmakingmeapromptandready traveller. My wants were few and simple, so that in lessthanthetimestatedIwasinacabwithmyvalise, rattlingawaytoPaddingtonStation. SherlockHolmes waspacingupanddowntheplatform,histall,gaunt figuremadeevengaunterandtallerbyhislonggrey travelling-cloakandclose-fittingclothcap.</s>“It is really very good of you to come, Watson,” said he. “It makes a considerable difference to me, havingsomeonewithmeonwhomIcanthoroughly rely. Local aid is always either worthless or else bi- assed. IfyouwillkeepthetwocornerseatsIshallget thetickets.” We had the carriage to ourselves save for an im- mense litter of papers which Holmes had brought withhim. Amongtheseherummagedandread,with intervals of note-taking and of meditation, until we werepastReading. Thenhesuddenlyrolledthemall intoagiganticballandtossedthemupontotherack.</s>“Haveyouheardanythingofthecase?”heasked.</s>“Not a word. I have not seen a paper for some days.” “TheLondonpresshasnothadveryfullaccounts.</s>Ihavejustbeenlookingthroughalltherecentpapers inordertomastertheparticulars. Itseems,fromwhat Igather,tobeoneofthosesimplecaseswhichareso extremelydifficult.” “Thatsoundsalittleparadoxical.” “But it is profoundly true. Singularity is almost invariablyaclue. Themorefeaturelessandcommon- place a crime is, the more difficult it is to bring it home. In this case, however, they have established a very serious case against the son of the murdered man.” “Itisamurder,then?” “Well,itisconjecturedtobeso. Ishalltakenoth- ingforgranteduntilIhavetheopportunityoflooking personallyintoit. Iwillexplainthestateofthingsto you,asfarasIhavebeenabletounderstandit,ina veryfewwords.</s>“Boscombe Valley is a country district not very far from Ross, in Herefordshire. The largest landed proprietorinthatpartisaMr.JohnTurner,whomade hismoneyinAustraliaandreturnedsomeyearsago to the old country. One of the farms which he held, that of Hatherley, was let to Mr. Charles McCarthy, whowasalsoanex-Australian. Themenhadknown eachotherinthecolonies,sothatitwasnotunnatural thatwhentheycametosettledowntheyshoulddoso asneareachotheraspossible. Turnerwasapparently the richer man, so McCarthy became his tenant but stillremained,itseems,upontermsofperfectequal- ity,astheywerefrequentlytogether. McCarthyhad one son, a lad of eighteen, and Turner had an only daughter of the same age, but neither of them had wivesliving. Theyappeartohaveavoidedthesociety oftheneighbouringEnglishfamiliesandtohaveled retiredlives,thoughboththeMcCarthyswerefondof sportandwerefrequentlyseenattherace-meetingsof theneighbourhood. McCarthykepttwoservants—a manandagirl. Turnerhadaconsiderablehousehold, some half-dozen at the least. That is as much as I havebeenabletogatheraboutthefamilies. Nowfor thefacts.</s>“OnJune3rd,thatis,onMondaylast,McCarthy left his house at Hatherley about three in the after- noonandwalkeddowntotheBoscombePool,which is a small lake formed by the spreading out of the stream which runs down the Boscombe Valley. He hadbeenoutwithhisserving-maninthemorningat Ross,andhehadtoldthemanthathemusthurry,as hehadanappointmentofimportancetokeepatthree.</s>Fromthatappointmenthenevercamebackalive.</s>“From Hatherley Farm-house to the Boscombe Poolisaquarterofamile,andtwopeoplesawhimas hepassedoverthisground. Onewasanoldwoman,whose name is not mentioned, and the other was William Crowder, a game-keeper in the employ of Mr.Turner. BoththesewitnessesdeposethatMr.Mc- Carthy was walking alone. The game-keeper adds thatwithinafewminutesofhisseeingMr.McCarthy passhehadseenhisson,Mr.JamesMcCarthy,going thesamewaywithagununderhisarm. Tothebest of his belief, the father was actually in sight at the time,andthesonwasfollowinghim. Hethoughtno more of the matter until he heard in the evening of thetragedythathadoccurred.</s>“The two McCarthys were seen after the time whenWilliamCrowder,thegame-keeper,lostsightof them. TheBoscombePoolisthicklywoodedround, with just a fringe of grass and of reeds round the edge. Agirloffourteen,PatienceMoran,whoisthe daughterofthelodge-keeperoftheBoscombeValley estate,wasinoneofthewoodspickingflowers. She statesthatwhileshewasthereshesaw,attheborder ofthewoodandclosebythelake,Mr.McCarthyand hisson,andthattheyappearedtobehavingaviolent quarrel. SheheardMr.McCarthytheelderusingvery strong language to his son, and she saw the latter raise up his hand as if to strike his father. She was sofrightenedbytheirviolencethatsheranawayand toldhermotherwhenshereachedhomethatshehad left the two McCarthys quarrelling near Boscombe Pool,andthatshewasafraidthattheyweregoingto fight. ShehadhardlysaidthewordswhenyoungMr.</s>McCarthycamerunninguptothelodgetosaythathe hadfoundhisfatherdeadinthewood,andtoaskfor the help of the lodge-keeper. He was much excited, withouteitherhisgunorhishat,andhisrighthand and sleeve were observed to be stained with fresh blood. Onfollowinghimtheyfoundthedeadbody stretched out upon the grass beside the pool. The headhadbeenbeateninbyrepeatedblowsofsome heavy and blunt weapon. The injuries were such as might very well have been inflicted by the butt-end ofhisson’sgun,whichwasfoundlyingonthegrass withinafewpacesofthebody. Underthesecircum- stancestheyoungmanwasinstantlyarrested,anda verdictof‘wilfulmurder’havingbeenreturnedatthe inquest on Tuesday, he was on Wednesday brought beforethemagistratesatRoss,whohavereferredthe casetothenextAssizes. Thosearethemainfactsof thecaseastheycameoutbeforethecoronerandthe police-court.” “Icouldhardlyimagineamoredamningcase,”I remarked. “Ifevercircumstantialevidencepointedto acriminalitdoessohere.” “Circumstantial evidence is a very tricky thing,” answeredHolmesthoughtfully. “Itmayseemtopoint verystraighttoonething,butifyoushiftyourown pointofviewalittle,youmayfinditpointinginan equally uncompromising manner to something en- tirely different. It must be confessed, however, that the case looks exceedingly grave against the young man,anditisverypossiblethatheisindeedthecul- prit. Thereareseveralpeopleintheneighbourhood, however,andamongthemMissTurner,thedaughter of the neighbouring landowner, who believe in his innocence, and who have retained Lestrade, whom you may recollect in connection with the Study in Scarlet,toworkoutthecaseinhisinterest. Lestrade, beingratherpuzzled,hasreferredthecasetome,and hence it is that two middle-aged gentlemen are fly- ingwestwardatfiftymilesanhourinsteadofquietly digestingtheirbreakfastsathome.” “Iamafraid,”saidI,“thatthefactsaresoobvious thatyouwillfindlittlecredittobegainedoutofthis case.” “There is nothing more deceptive than an obvi- ousfact,”heanswered,laughing. “Besides,wemay chance to hit upon some other obvious facts which mayhavebeenbynomeansobvioustoMr.Lestrade.</s>You know me too well to think that I am boasting when I say that I shall either confirm or destroy his theory by means which he is quite incapable of em- ploying, or even of understanding. To take the first exampletohand,Iveryclearlyperceivethatinyour bedroom the window is upon the right-hand side, andyetIquestionwhetherMr.Lestradewouldhave notedevensoself-evidentathingasthat.” “Howonearth—” “My dear fellow, I know you well. I know the militaryneatnesswhichcharacterisesyou. Youshave every morning, and in this season you shave by the sunlight;butsinceyourshavingislessandlesscom- plete as we get farther back on the left side, until it becomespositivelyslovenlyaswegetroundtheangle ofthejaw,itissurelyveryclearthatthatsideisless illuminatedthantheother. Icouldnotimagineaman of your habits looking at himself in an equal light and being satisfied with such a result. I only quote thisasatrivialexampleofobservationandinference.</s>Therein lies my me´tier, and it is just possible that it maybeofsomeserviceintheinvestigationwhichlies beforeus. Thereareoneortwominorpointswhich werebroughtoutintheinquest,andwhichareworth considering.” “Whatarethey?” “It appears that his arrest did not take place at once,butafterthereturntoHatherleyFarm. Ontheinspectorofconstabularyinforminghimthathewas aprisoner,heremarkedthathewasnotsurprisedto hearit,andthatitwasnomorethanhisdeserts. This observationofhishadthenaturaleffectofremoving any traces of doubt which might have remained in themindsofthecoroner’sjury.” “Itwasaconfession,”Iejaculated.</s>“No,foritwasfollowedbyaprotestationofinno- cence.” “Coming on the top of such a damning series of events,itwasatleastamostsuspiciousremark.” “Onthecontrary,”saidHolmes,“itisthebrightest riftwhichIcanatpresentseeintheclouds. However innocenthemightbe,hecouldnotbesuchanabso- luteimbecileasnottoseethatthecircumstanceswere veryblackagainsthim. Hadheappearedsurprisedat hisownarrest,orfeignedindignationatit,Ishould have looked upon it as highly suspicious, because such surprise or anger would not be natural under thecircumstances,andyetmightappeartobethebest policytoaschemingman. Hisfrankacceptanceofthe situationmarkshimaseitheraninnocentman,orelse asamanofconsiderableself-restraintandfirmness.</s>Astohisremarkabouthisdeserts,itwasalsonotun- naturalifyouconsiderthathestoodbesidethedead body of his father, and that there is no doubt that he had that very day so far forgotten his filial duty astobandywordswithhim,andeven,accordingto thelittlegirlwhoseevidenceissoimportant,toraise his hand as if to strike him. The self-reproach and contritionwhicharedisplayedinhisremarkappear tometobethesignsofahealthymindratherthanof aguiltyone.” Ishookmyhead. “Manymenhavebeenhanged onfarslighterevidence,”Iremarked.</s>“Sotheyhave. Andmanymenhavebeenwrong- fullyhanged.” “What is the young man’s own account of the matter?” “It is, I am afraid, not very encouraging to his supporters, though there are one or two points in it whicharesuggestive. Youwillfindithere,andmay readitforyourself.” Hepickedoutfromhisbundleacopyofthelocal Herefordshire paper, and having turned down the sheethepointedouttheparagraphinwhichtheun- fortunate young man had given his own statement of what had occurred. I settled myself down in the cornerofthecarriageandreaditverycarefully. Itran inthisway: “Mr.JamesMcCarthy,theonlysonofthede- ceased, was then called and gave evidence as follows: ‘Ihadbeenawayfromhomeforthree days at Bristol, and had only just returned upon the morning of last Monday, the 3rd.</s>My father was absent from home at the time ofmyarrival,andIwasinformedbythemaid that he had driven over to Ross with John Cobb, the groom. Shortly after my return I heard the wheels of his trap in the yard, and, looking out of my window, I saw him get out andwalkrapidlyoutoftheyard,thoughIwas not aware in which direction he was going. I thentookmygunandstrolledoutinthedirec- tion of the Boscombe Pool, with the intention ofvisitingtherabbitwarrenwhichisuponthe other side. On my way I saw William Crow- der, the game-keeper, as he had stated in his evidence; but he is mistaken in thinking that I was following my father. I had no idea that hewasinfrontofme. Whenaboutahundred yards from the pool I heard a cry of “Cooee!” which was a usual signal between my father andmyself. Ithenhurriedforward,andfound him standing by the pool. He appeared to be much surprised at seeing me and asked me ratherroughlywhatIwasdoingthere. Acon- versationensuedwhichledtohighwordsand almost to blows, for my father was a man of a very violent temper. Seeing that his pas- sion was becoming ungovernable, I left him and returned towards Hatherley Farm. I had notgonemorethan150yards,however,when I heard a hideous outcry behind me, which caused me to run back again. I found my fa- ther expiring upon the ground, with his head terribly injured. I dropped my gun and held him in my arms, but he almost instantly ex- pired. I knelt beside him for some minutes, andthenmademywaytoMr.Turner’slodge- keeper, his house being the nearest, to ask for assistance. Isawnoonenearmyfatherwhen Ireturned,andIhavenoideahowhecameby hisinjuries. Hewasnotapopularman,being somewhatcoldandforbiddinginhismanners, buthehad,asfarasIknow,noactiveenemies.</s>Iknownothingfurtherofthematter.’ “The Coroner: Did your father make any statementtoyoubeforehedied? “Witness: He mumbled a few words, but I couldonlycatchsomeallusiontoarat.</s>“The Coroner: What did you understand bythat? “Witness: It conveyed no meaning to me. I thoughtthathewasdelirious.</s>“The Coroner: What was the point upon whichyouandyourfatherhadthisfinalquar- rel? “Witness: Ishouldprefernottoanswer.</s>“The Coroner: I am afraid that I must press it.</s>“Witness: Itisreallyimpossibleformetotell you. I can assure you that it has nothing to dowiththesadtragedywhichfollowed.</s>“TheCoroner: Thatisforthecourttodecide.</s>Ineednotpointouttoyouthatyourrefusalto answer will prejudice your case considerably inanyfutureproceedingswhichmayarise.</s>“Witness: Imuststillrefuse.</s>“The Coroner: I understand that the cry of ‘Cooee’wasacommonsignalbetweenyouand yourfather? “Witness: Itwas.</s>“The Coroner: How was it, then, that he ut- tered it before he saw you, and before he even knewthatyouhadreturnedfromBristol? “Witness (with considerable confusion): I do notknow.</s>“A Juryman: Did you see nothing which aroused your suspicions when you returned on hearing the cry and found your father fa- tallyinjured? “Witness: Nothingdefinite.</s>“TheCoroner: Whatdoyoumean? “Witness: I was so disturbed and excited as I rushed out into the open, that I could think of nothing except of my father. Yet I have a vagueimpressionthatasIranforwardsome- thinglayuponthegroundtotheleftofme. It seemed to me to be something grey in colour, a coat of some sort, or a plaid perhaps. When IrosefrommyfatherIlookedroundforit,but itwasgone.</s>“‘Doyoumeanthatitdisappearedbeforeyou wentforhelp?’ “‘Yes,itwasgone.’ “‘Youcannotsaywhatitwas?’ “‘No,Ihadafeelingsomethingwasthere.’ “‘Howfarfromthebody?’ “‘Adozenyardsorso.’ “‘Andhowfarfromtheedgeofthewood?’ “‘Aboutthesame.’ “‘Then if it was removed it was while you werewithinadozenyardsofit?’ “‘Yes,butwithmybacktowardsit.’ “This concluded the examination of the wit- ness.” “Isee,”saidIasIglanceddownthecolumn,“thatthe coronerinhisconcludingremarkswasrathersevere uponyoungMcCarthy. Hecallsattention,andwith reason, to the discrepancy about his father having signalledtohimbeforeseeinghim,alsotohisrefusal togivedetailsofhisconversationwithhisfather,and hissingularaccountofhisfather’sdyingwords. They areall,asheremarks,verymuchagainsttheson.” Holmes laughed softly to himself and stretched himselfoutuponthecushionedseat. “Bothyouand thecoronerhavebeenatsomepains,”saidhe,“tosin- gleouttheverystrongestpointsintheyoungman’s favour. Don’t you see that you alternately give him creditforhavingtoomuchimaginationandtoolittle? Too little, if he could not invent a cause of quarrel whichwouldgivehimthesympathyofthejury;too much,ifheevolvedfromhisowninnerconsciousness anything so outre´ as a dying reference to a rat, and the incident of the vanishing cloth. No, sir, I shall approachthiscasefromthepointofviewthatwhat thisyoungmansaysistrue,andweshallseewhither that hypothesis will lead us. And now here is my pocketPetrarch,andnotanotherwordshallIsayof thiscaseuntilweareonthesceneofaction. Welunch atSwindon,andIseethatweshallbethereintwenty minutes.” It was nearly four o’clock when we at last, after passingthroughthebeautifulStroudValley,andover the broad gleaming Severn, found ourselves at the prettylittlecountry-townofRoss. Alean,ferret-like man,furtiveandsly-looking,waswaitingforusupon theplatform. Inspiteofthelightbrowndustcoatand leather-leggings which he wore in deference to his rusticsurroundings,Ihadnodifficultyinrecognising Lestrade, of Scotland Yard. With him we drove to theHerefordArmswherearoomhadalreadybeen engagedforus.</s>“I have ordered a carriage,” said Lestrade as we satoveracupoftea. “Iknewyourenergeticnature, andthatyouwouldnotbehappyuntilyouhadbeen onthesceneofthecrime.” “It was very nice and complimentary of you,” Holmesanswered. “Itisentirelyaquestionofbaro- metricpressure.” Lestradelookedstartled. “Idonotquitefollow,” hesaid.“Howisthe glass? Twenty-nine, Isee. No wind, and not a cloud in the sky. I have a caseful of cigarettesherewhichneedsmoking,andthesofais verymuchsuperiortotheusualcountryhotelabomi- nation. I do not think that it is probable that I shall usethecarriageto-night.” Lestrade laughed indulgently. “You have, no doubt, already formed your conclusions from the newspapers,” he said. “The case is as plain as a pikestaff,andthemoreonegoesintoittheplainerit becomes. Still,ofcourse,onecan’trefusealady,and such a very positive one, too. She has heard of you, and would have your opinion, though I repeatedly toldherthattherewasnothingwhichyoucoulddo which I had not already done. Why, bless my soul! hereishercarriageatthedoor.” He had hardly spoken before there rushed into theroomoneofthemostlovelyyoungwomenthatI haveeverseeninmylife. Hervioleteyesshining,her lipsparted,apinkflushuponhercheeks,allthought ofhernaturalreservelostinheroverpoweringexcite- mentandconcern.</s>“Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes!” she cried, glancing from one to the other of us, and finally, with a woman’s quick intuition, fastening upon my com- panion, “I am so glad that you have come. I have drivendowntotellyouso. IknowthatJamesdidn’t do it. I know it, and I want you to start upon your workknowingit,too. Neverletyourselfdoubtupon thatpoint. Wehaveknowneachothersincewewere little children, and I know his faults as no one else does;butheistootender-heartedtohurtafly. Such achargeisabsurdtoanyonewhoreallyknowshim.” “Ihopewemayclearhim,MissTurner,”saidSher- lockHolmes. “YoumayrelyuponmydoingallthatI can.” “Butyouhavereadtheevidence. Youhaveformed some conclusion? Do you not see some loophole, someflaw? Doyounotyourselfthinkthatheisinno- cent?” “Ithinkthatitisveryprobable.” “There,now!”shecried,throwingbackherhead and looking defiantly at Lestrade. “You hear! He givesmehopes.” Lestradeshruggedhisshoulders. “Iamafraidthat my colleague has been a little quick in forming his conclusions,”hesaid.</s>“Butheisright. Oh! Iknowthatheisright. James never did it. And about his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the reason why he would not speak aboutittothecoronerwasbecauseIwasconcerned init.” “Inwhatway?”askedHolmes.</s>“Itisnotimeformetohideanything. Jamesand hisfatherhadmanydisagreementsaboutme. Mr.Mc- Carthywasveryanxiousthatthereshouldbeamar- riagebetweenus. JamesandIhavealwayslovedeach otherasbrotherandsister;butofcourseheisyoung and has seen very little of life yet, and—and—well, henaturallydidnotwishtodoanythinglikethatyet.</s>Sotherewerequarrels,andthis,Iamsure,wasone ofthem.” “And your father?” asked Holmes. “Was he in favourofsuchaunion?” “No, he was averse to it also. No one but Mr.</s>McCarthywasinfavourofit.”Aquickblushpassed overherfreshyoungfaceasHolmesshotoneofhis keen,questioningglancesather.</s>“Thankyouforthisinformation,”saidhe. “MayI seeyourfatherifIcallto-morrow?” “Iamafraidthedoctorwon’tallowit.” “Thedoctor?” “Yes, have you not heard? Poor father has never been strong for years back, but this has broken him down completely. He has taken to his bed, and Dr.</s>Willowssaysthatheisawreckandthathisnervous systemisshattered. Mr.McCarthywastheonlyman alivewhohadknowndadintheolddaysinVictoria.” “Ha! InVictoria! Thatisimportant.” “Yes,atthemines.” “Quite so; at the gold-mines, where, as I under- stand,Mr.Turnermadehismoney.” “Yes,certainly.” “Thankyou,MissTurner. Youhavebeenofmate- rialassistancetome.” “Youwilltellmeifyouhaveanynewsto-morrow.</s>NodoubtyouwillgototheprisontoseeJames. Oh, ifyoudo,Mr.Holmes,dotellhimthatIknowhimto beinnocent.” “Iwill,MissTurner.” “Imustgohomenow,fordadisveryill,andhe missesmesoifIleavehim. Good-bye,andGodhelp youinyourundertaking.”Shehurriedfromtheroom asimpulsivelyasshehadentered,andweheardthe wheelsofhercarriagerattleoffdownthestreet.</s>“I am ashamed of you, Holmes,” said Lestrade with dignity after a few minutes’ silence. “Why should you raise up hopes which you are bound to disappoint? Iamnotover-tenderofheart,butIcallit cruel.”“I think that I see my way to clearing James Mc- Carthy,”saidHolmes. “Haveyouanordertoseehim inprison?” “Yes,butonlyforyouandme.” “ThenIshallreconsidermyresolutionaboutgo- ingout. WehavestilltimetotakeatraintoHereford andseehimto-night?” “Ample.” “Then let us do so. Watson, I fear that you will finditveryslow,butIshallonlybeawayacoupleof hours.” Iwalkeddowntothestationwiththem,andthen wanderedthroughthestreetsofthelittletown,finally returningtothehotel,whereIlayuponthesofaand triedtointerestmyselfinayellow-backednovel. The puny plot of the story was so thin, however, when compared to the deep mystery through which we were groping, and I found my attention wander so continually from the action to the fact, that I at last flungitacrosstheroomandgavemyselfupentirely toaconsiderationoftheeventsoftheday. Supposing thatthisunhappyyoungman’sstorywereabsolutely true,thenwhathellishthing,whatabsolutelyunfore- seenandextraordinarycalamitycouldhaveoccurred betweenthetimewhenhepartedfromhisfather,and the moment when, drawn back by his screams, he rushedintotheglade? Itwassomethingterribleand deadly. Whatcoulditbe? Mightnotthenatureofthe injuriesrevealsomethingtomymedicalinstincts? I rangthebellandcalledfortheweeklycountypaper, whichcontainedaverbatimaccountoftheinquest. In thesurgeon’sdepositionitwasstatedthattheposte- riorthirdoftheleftparietalboneandthelefthalfof theoccipitalbonehadbeenshatteredbyaheavyblow from a blunt weapon. I marked the spot upon my ownhead. Clearlysuchablowmusthavebeenstruck frombehind. Thatwastosomeextentinfavourofthe accused,aswhenseenquarrellinghewasfacetoface withhisfather. Still,itdidnotgoforverymuch,for theoldermanmighthaveturnedhisbackbeforethe blowfell. Still,itmightbeworthwhiletocallHolmes’ attentiontoit. Thentherewasthepeculiardyingref- erencetoarat. Whatcouldthatmean? Itcouldnotbe delirium. Amandyingfromasuddenblowdoesnot commonlybecomedelirious. No,itwasmorelikely tobeanattempttoexplainhowhemethisfate. But whatcoulditindicate? Icudgelledmybrainstofind somepossibleexplanation. Andthentheincidentof thegreyclothseenbyyoungMcCarthy. Ifthatwere true the murderer must have dropped some part of hisdress,presumablyhisovercoat,inhisflight,and musthavehadthehardihoodtoreturnandtocarry itawayattheinstantwhenthesonwaskneelingwith hisbackturnednotadozenpacesoff. Whatatissue ofmysteriesandimprobabilitiesthewholethingwas! IdidnotwonderatLestrade’sopinion,andyetIhad somuchfaithinSherlockHolmes’insightthatIcould not lose hope as long as every fresh fact seemed to strengthenhisconvictionofyoungMcCarthy’sinno- cence.</s>ItwaslatebeforeSherlockHolmesreturned. He camebackalone,forLestradewasstayinginlodgings inthetown.</s>“Theglassstillkeepsveryhigh,”heremarkedas he sat down. “It is of importance that it should not rain before we are able to go over the ground. On theotherhand,amanshouldbeathisverybestand keenestforsuchniceworkasthat,andIdidnotwish to do it when fagged by a long journey. I have seen youngMcCarthy.” “Andwhatdidyoulearnfromhim?” “Nothing.” “Couldhethrownolight?” “None at all. I was inclined to think at one time thatheknewwhohaddoneitandwasscreeninghim orher,butIamconvincednowthatheisaspuzzled aseveryoneelse. Heisnotaveryquick-wittedyouth, thoughcomelytolookatand,Ishouldthink,sound atheart.” “I cannot admire his taste,” I remarked, “if it is indeedafactthathewasaversetoamarriagewithso charmingayoungladyasthisMissTurner.” “Ah, thereby hangs a rather painful tale. This fellowismadly,insanely,inlovewithher,butsome two years ago, when he was only a lad, and before hereallyknewher,forshehadbeenawayfiveyears ataboarding-school,whatdoestheidiotdobutget into the clutches of a barmaid in Bristol and marry her at a registry office? No one knows a word of the matter, but you can imagine how maddening it must be to him to be upbraided for not doing what hewouldgivehisveryeyestodo,butwhatheknows to be absolutely impossible. It was sheer frenzy of this sort which made him throw his hands up into the air when his father, at their last interview, was goading him on to propose to Miss Turner. On the otherhand,hehadnomeansofsupportinghimself, and his father, who was by all accounts a very hard man, would have thrown him over utterly had he knownthetruth. Itwaswithhisbarmaidwifethathe hadspentthelastthreedaysinBristol,andhisfather did not know where he was. Mark that point. It isof importance. Good has come out of evil, however, forthebarmaid,findingfromthepapersthatheisin serioustroubleandlikelytobehanged,hasthrown him over utterly and has written to him to say that shehasahusbandalreadyintheBermudaDockyard, so that there is really no tie between them. I think that that bit of news has consoled young McCarthy forallthathehassuffered.” “Butifheisinnocent,whohasdoneit?” “Ah! who? Iwouldcallyourattentionverypartic- ularlytotwopoints. Oneisthatthemurderedman had an appointment with someone at the pool, and thatthesomeonecouldnothavebeenhisson,forhis sonwasaway,andhedidnotknowwhenhewould return. The second is that the murdered man was heardtocry‘Cooee!’ beforeheknewthathissonhad returned. Those are the crucial points upon which thecasedepends. AndnowletustalkaboutGeorge Meredith,ifyouplease,andweshallleaveallminor mattersuntilto-morrow.” There was no rain, as Holmes had foretold, and the morning broke bright and cloudless. At nine o’clockLestradecalledforuswiththecarriage,and wesetoffforHatherleyFarmandtheBoscombePool.</s>“There is serious news this morning,” Lestrade observed. “ItissaidthatMr.Turner,oftheHall,isso illthathislifeisdespairedof.” “Anelderlyman,Ipresume?”saidHolmes.</s>“About sixty; but his constitution has been shat- tered by his life abroad, and he has been in failing health for some time. This business has had a very bad effect upon him. He was an old friend of Mc- Carthy’s, and, I may add, a great benefactor to him, forIhavelearnedthathegavehimHatherleyFarm rentfree.” “Indeed! Thatisinteresting,”saidHolmes.</s>“Oh,yes! Inahundredotherwayshehashelped him. Everybodyaboutherespeaksofhiskindnessto him.” “Really! Doesitnotstrikeyouasalittlesingular that this McCarthy, who appears to have had little ofhisown,andtohavebeenundersuchobligations to Turner, should still talk of marrying his son to Turner’sdaughter,whois,presumably,heiresstothe estate,andthatinsuchaverycocksuremanner,asif itweremerelyacaseofaproposalandallelsewould follow? It is the more strange, since we know that Turnerhimselfwasaversetotheidea. Thedaughter toldusasmuch. Doyounotdeducesomethingfrom that?” “We have got to the deductions and the infer- ences,”saidLestrade,winkingatme. “Ifindithard enoughtotacklefacts,Holmes,withoutflyingaway aftertheoriesandfancies.” “Youareright,”saidHolmesdemurely;“youdo finditveryhardtotacklethefacts.” “Anyhow,Ihavegraspedonefactwhichyouseem tofinditdifficulttogetholdof,”repliedLestradewith somewarmth.</s>“Andthatis—” “That McCarthy senior met his death from Mc- Carthyjuniorandthatalltheoriestothecontraryare themerestmoonshine.” “Well, moonshine is a brighter thing than fog,” said Holmes, laughing. “But I am very much mis- takenifthisisnotHatherleyFarmupontheleft.” “Yes,thatisit.”Itwasawidespread,comfortable- lookingbuilding,two-storied,slate-roofed,withgreat yellow blotches of lichen upon the grey walls. The drawnblindsandthesmokelesschimneys,however, gave it a stricken look, as though the weight of this horrorstilllayheavyuponit. Wecalledatthedoor, when the maid, at Holmes’ request, showed us the bootswhichhermasterworeatthetimeofhisdeath, andalsoapairoftheson’s,thoughnotthepairwhich hehadthenhad. Havingmeasuredtheseverycare- fully from seven or eight different points, Holmes desiredtobeledtothecourt-yard,fromwhichweall followed the winding track which led to Boscombe Pool.</s>Sherlock Holmes was transformed when he was hot upon such a scent as this. Men who had only knownthequietthinkerandlogicianofBakerStreet wouldhavefailedtorecognisehim. Hisfaceflushed anddarkened. Hisbrowsweredrawnintotwohard black lines, while his eyes shone out from beneath them with a steely glitter. His face was bent down- ward,hisshouldersbowed,hislipscompressed,and theveinsstoodoutlikewhipcordinhislong,sinewy neck. Hisnostrilsseemedtodilatewithapurelyani- mallustforthechase,andhismindwassoabsolutely concentrateduponthematterbeforehimthataques- tionorremarkfellunheededuponhisears,or,atthe most,onlyprovokedaquick,impatientsnarlinreply.</s>Swiftlyandsilentlyhemadehiswayalongthetrack whichranthroughthemeadows,andsobywayofthe woods to the Boscombe Pool. It was damp, marshy ground, as is all that district, and there were marks ofmanyfeet,bothuponthepathandamidtheshort grass which bounded it on either side. Sometimes Holmeswouldhurryon,sometimesstopdead,and once he made quite a little detour into the meadow.LestradeandIwalkedbehindhim,thedetectiveindif- ferentandcontemptuous,whileIwatchedmyfriend with the interest which sprang from the conviction thateveryoneofhisactionswasdirectedtowardsa definiteend.</s>TheBoscombePool,whichisalittlereed-girtsheet of water some fifty yards across, is situated at the boundary between the Hatherley Farm and the pri- vateparkofthewealthyMr.Turner. Abovethewoods whichlinedituponthefarthersidewecouldseethe red, jutting pinnacles which marked the site of the richlandowner’sdwelling. OntheHatherleysideof the pool the woods grew very thick, and there was a narrow belt of sodden grass twenty paces across between the edge of the trees and the reeds which lined the lake. Lestrade showed us the exact spot at which the body had been found, and, indeed, so moist was the ground, that I could plainly see the traceswhichhadbeenleftbythefallofthestricken man. ToHolmes,asIcouldseebyhiseagerfaceand peeringeyes,verymanyotherthingsweretoberead upon the trampled grass. He ran round, like a dog whoispickingupascent,andthenturneduponmy companion.</s>“Whatdidyougointothepoolfor?”heasked.</s>“Ifishedaboutwitharake. Ithoughttheremight besomeweaponorothertrace. Buthowonearth—” “Oh, tut, tut! I have no time! That left foot of yours with its inward twist is all over the place. A molecouldtraceit,andthereitvanishesamongthe reeds. Oh, how simple it would all have been had I been here before they came like a herd of buffalo and wallowed all over it. Here is where the party with the lodge-keeper came, and they have covered all tracks for six or eight feet round the body. But here are three separate tracks of the same feet.” He drew out a lens and lay down upon his waterproof to have a better view, talking all the time rather to himselfthantous. “TheseareyoungMcCarthy’sfeet.</s>Twice he was walking, and once he ran swiftly, so thatthesolesaredeeplymarkedandtheheelshardly visible. Thatbearsouthisstory. Heranwhenhesaw hisfatherontheground. Thenherearethefather’s feetashepacedupanddown. Whatisthis,then? It isthebutt-endofthegunasthesonstoodlistening.</s>And this? Ha, ha! What have we here? Tiptoes! tip- toes! Square, too, quite unusual boots! They come, theygo,theycomeagain—ofcoursethatwasforthe cloak. Nowwheredidtheycomefrom?”Heranup anddown,sometimeslosing,sometimesfindingthe trackuntilwewerewellwithintheedgeofthewood and under the shadow of a great beech, the largest tree in the neighbourhood. Holmes traced his way to the farther side of this and lay down once more upon his face with a little cry of satisfaction. For a longtimeheremainedthere,turningovertheleaves and dried sticks, gathering up what seemed to me tobedustintoanenvelopeandexaminingwithhis lensnotonlythegroundbuteventhebarkofthetree as far as he could reach. A jagged stone was lying amongthemoss,andthisalsohecarefullyexamined and retained. Then he followed a pathway through the wood until he came to the highroad, where all traceswerelost.</s>“It has been a case of considerable interest,” he remarked,returningtohisnaturalmanner. “Ifancy thatthisgreyhouseontherightmustbethelodge. I thinkthatIwillgoinandhaveawordwithMoran, andperhapswritealittlenote. Havingdonethat,we maydrivebacktoourluncheon. Youmaywalktothe cab,andIshallbewithyoupresently.” Itwasabouttenminutesbeforeweregainedour cab and drove back into Ross, Holmes still carrying with him the stone which he had picked up in the wood.</s>“This may interest you, Lestrade,” he remarked, holdingitout. “Themurderwasdonewithit.” “Iseenomarks.” “Therearenone.” “Howdoyouknow,then?” “Thegrasswasgrowingunderit. Ithadonlylain thereafewdays. Therewasnosignofaplacewhence it had been taken. It corresponds with the injuries.</s>Thereisnosignofanyotherweapon.” “Andthemurderer?” “Is a tall man, left-handed, limps with the right leg,wearsthick-soledshooting-bootsandagreycloak, smokesIndiancigars,usesacigar-holder,andcarries a blunt pen-knife in his pocket. There are several otherindications,butthesemaybeenoughtoaidus inoursearch.” Lestrade laughed. “I am afraid that I am still a sceptic,”hesaid. “Theoriesareallverywell,butwe havetodealwithahard-headedBritishjury.” “Nous verrons,” answered Holmes calmly. “You work your own method, and I shall work mine. I shall be busy this afternoon, and shall probably re- turntoLondonbytheeveningtrain.” “Andleaveyourcaseunfinished?” “No,finished.” “Butthemystery?” “Itissolved.”“Whowasthecriminal,then?” “ThegentlemanIdescribe.” “Butwhoishe?” “Surelyitwouldnotbedifficulttofindout. This isnotsuchapopulousneighbourhood.” Lestradeshruggedhisshoulders. “Iamapractical man,”hesaid,“andIreallycannotundertaketogo aboutthecountrylookingforaleft-handedgentleman withagameleg. Ishouldbecomethelaughing-stock ofScotlandYard.” “All right,” said Holmes quietly. “I have given youthechance. Hereareyourlodgings. Good-bye. I shalldropyoualinebeforeIleave.” HavingleftLestradeathisrooms,wedrovetoour hotel,wherewefoundlunchuponthetable. Holmes was silent and buried in thought with a pained ex- pressionuponhisface,asonewhofindshimselfina perplexingposition.</s>“Lookhere,Watson,”hesaidwhentheclothwas cleared“justsitdowninthischairandletmepreach toyouforalittle. Idon’tknowquitewhattodo,and Ishouldvalueyouradvice. Lightacigarandletme expound.” “Praydoso.” “Well, now, in considering this case there are twopointsaboutyoungMcCarthy’snarrativewhich struckusbothinstantly,althoughtheyimpressedme inhisfavourandyouagainsthim. Onewasthefact that his father should, according to his account, cry ‘Cooee!’ beforeseeinghim. Theotherwashissingular dyingreferencetoarat. Hemumbledseveralwords, youunderstand,butthatwasallthatcaughttheson’s ear. Now from this double point our research must commence, and we will begin it by presuming that whattheladsaysisabsolutelytrue.” “Whatofthis‘Cooee!’ then?” “Well,obviouslyitcouldnothavebeenmeantfor the son. The son, as far as he knew, was in Bristol.</s>It wasmere chancethat he was within earshot. The ‘Cooee!’ wasmeanttoattracttheattentionofwhoever itwasthathehadtheappointmentwith. But‘Cooee’ isadistinctlyAustraliancry,andonewhichisused betweenAustralians. Thereisastrongpresumption that the person whom McCarthy expected to meet himatBoscombePoolwassomeonewhohadbeenin Australia.” “Whatoftherat,then?” Sherlock Holmes took a folded paper from his pocket and flattened it out on the table. “This is a mapoftheColonyofVictoria,”hesaid. “Iwiredto Bristolforitlastnight.”Heputhishandoverpartof themap. “Whatdoyouread?” “ARAT,”Iread.</s>“Andnow?”Heraisedhishand.</s>“BALLARAT.” “Quite so. That was the word the man uttered, and of which his son only caught the last two sylla- bles. Hewastryingtoutterthenameofhismurderer.</s>Soandso,ofBallarat.” “Itiswonderful!”Iexclaimed.</s>“Itisobvious. Andnow,yousee,Ihadnarrowed thefielddownconsiderably. Thepossessionofagrey garmentwasathirdpointwhich,grantingtheson’s statementtobecorrect,wasacertainty. Wehavecome nowoutofmerevaguenesstothedefiniteconception ofanAustralianfromBallaratwithagreycloak.” “Certainly.” “Andonewhowasathomeinthedistrict,forthe pool can only be approached by the farm or by the estate,wherestrangerscouldhardlywander.” “Quiteso.” “Then comes our expedition of to-day. By an ex- aminationofthegroundIgainedthetriflingdetails whichIgavetothatimbecileLestrade,astotheper- sonalityofthecriminal.” “Buthowdidyougainthem?” “You know my method. It is founded upon the observationoftrifles.” “HisheightIknowthatyoumightroughlyjudge fromthelengthofhisstride. Hisboots,too,mightbe toldfromtheirtraces.” “Yes,theywerepeculiarboots.” “Buthislameness?” “Theimpressionofhisrightfootwasalwaysless distinct than his left. He put less weight upon it.</s>Why? Becausehelimped—hewaslame.” “Buthisleft-handedness.” “You were yourself struck by the nature of the injuryasrecordedbythesurgeonattheinquest. The blow was struck from immediately behind, and yet wasupontheleftside. Now,howcanthatbeunless itwerebyaleft-handedman? Hehadstoodbehind thattreeduringtheinterviewbetweenthefatherand son. Hehadevensmokedthere. Ifoundtheashofa cigar,whichmyspecialknowledgeoftobaccoashes enablesmetopronounceasanIndiancigar. Ihave,as you know, devoted some attention to this, and writ- ten a little monograph on the ashes of 140 different varietiesofpipe,cigar,andcigarettetobacco. Havingfound the ash, I then looked round and discovered thestumpamongthemosswherehehadtossedit. It wasanIndiancigar,ofthevarietywhicharerolledin Rotterdam.” “Andthecigar-holder?” “Icouldseethattheendhadnotbeeninhismouth.</s>Thereforeheusedaholder. Thetiphadbeencutoff, not bitten off, but the cut was not a clean one, so I deducedabluntpen-knife.” “Holmes,” I said, “you have drawn a net round thismanfromwhichhecannotescape,andyouhave savedaninnocenthumanlifeastrulyasifyouhadcut thecordwhichwashanginghim. Iseethedirection inwhichallthispoints. Theculpritis—” “Mr.JohnTurner,”criedthehotelwaiter,opening thedoorofoursitting-room,andusheringinavisitor.</s>Themanwhoenteredwasastrangeandimpres- sivefigure. Hisslow,limpingstepandbowedshoul- ders gave the appearance of decrepitude, and yet his hard, deep-lined, craggy features, and his enor- mouslimbsshowedthathewaspossessedofunusual strengthofbodyandofcharacter. Histangledbeard, grizzled hair, and outstanding, drooping eyebrows combinedtogiveanairofdignityandpowertohis appearance,buthisfacewasofanashenwhite,while his lips and the corners of his nostrils were tinged with a shade of blue. It was clear to me at a glance that he was in the grip of some deadly and chronic disease.</s>“Praysitdownonthesofa,”saidHolmesgently.</s>“Youhadmynote?” “Yes, the lodge-keeper brought it up. You said thatyouwishedtoseemeheretoavoidscandal.” “IthoughtpeoplewouldtalkifIwenttotheHall.” “And why did you wish to see me?” He looked across at my companion with despair in his weary eyes,asthoughhisquestionwasalreadyanswered.</s>“Yes,” said Holmes, answering the look rather thanthewords. “Itisso. IknowallaboutMcCarthy.” Theoldmansankhisfaceinhishands. “Godhelp me!” he cried. “But I would not have let the young mancometoharm. IgiveyoumywordthatIwould havespokenoutifitwentagainsthimattheAssizes.” “I am glad to hear you say so,” said Holmes gravely.</s>“Iwouldhavespokennowhaditnotbeenformy deargirl. Itwouldbreakherheart—itwillbreakher heartwhenshehearsthatIamarrested.” “Itmaynotcometothat,”saidHolmes.</s>“What?” “I am no official agent. I understand that it was yourdaughterwhorequiredmypresencehere,andI amactinginherinterests. YoungMcCarthymustbe gotoff,however.” “Iamadyingman,”saidoldTurner. “Ihavehad diabetes for years. My doctor says it is a question whether I shall live a month. Yet I would rather die undermyownroofthaninajail.” Holmes rose and sat down at the table with his pen in his hand and a bundle of paper before him.</s>“Justtellusthetruth,”hesaid. “Ishalljotdownthe facts. You will sign it, and Watson here can witness it. Then I could produce your confession at the last extremitytosaveyoungMcCarthy. Ipromiseyouthat Ishallnotuseitunlessitisabsolutelyneeded.” “It’s as well,” said the old man; “it’s a question whetherIshalllivetotheAssizes,soitmatterslittle to me, but I should wish to spare Alice the shock.</s>And now I will make the thing clear to you; it has been a long time in the acting, but will not take me longtotell.</s>“You didn’t know this dead man, McCarthy. He was a devil incarnate. I tell you that. God keep you outoftheclutchesofsuchamanashe. Hisgriphas beenuponmethesetwentyyears,andhehasblasted my life. I’ll tell you first how I came to be in his power.</s>“Itwasintheearly’60’satthediggings. Iwasa youngchapthen,hot-bloodedandreckless,readyto turnmyhandatanything;Igotamongbadcompan- ions,tooktodrink,hadnoluckwithmyclaim,took tothebush,andinawordbecamewhatyouwould calloverhereahighwayrobber. Thereweresixofus, andwehadawild,freelifeofit,stickingupastation from time to time, or stopping the wagons on the road to the diggings. Black Jack of Ballarat was the nameIwentunder,andourpartyisstillremembered inthecolonyastheBallaratGang.</s>“OnedayagoldconvoycamedownfromBallarat toMelbourne,andwelayinwaitforitandattackedit.</s>Thereweresixtroopersandsixofus,soitwasaclose thing,butweemptiedfouroftheirsaddlesatthefirst volley. Threeofourboyswerekilled,however,before we got the swag. I put my pistol to the head of the wagon-driver, who was this very man McCarthy. I wishtotheLordthatIhadshothimthen,butIspared him,thoughIsawhiswickedlittleeyesfixedonmy face, as though to remember every feature. We got awaywiththegold,becamewealthymen,andmade our way over to England without being suspected.</s>There I parted from my old pals and determined tosettledowntoaquietandrespectablelife. Ibought thisestate,whichchancedtobeinthemarket,andI setmyselftodoalittlegoodwithmymoney,tomake up for the way in which I had earned it. I married, too,andthoughmywifediedyoungsheleftmemy dearlittleAlice. Evenwhenshewasjustababyher weehandseemedtoleadmedowntherightpathas nothingelsehadeverdone. Inaword,Iturnedover anewleafanddidmybesttomakeupforthepast.</s>AllwasgoingwellwhenMcCarthylaidhisgripupon me.</s>“Ihadgoneuptotownaboutaninvestment,and I met him in Regent Street with hardly a coat to his backoraboottohisfoot.</s>“‘Hereweare,Jack,’sayshe,touchingmeonthe arm;‘we’llbeasgoodasafamilytoyou. There’stwo ofus,meandmyson,andyoucanhavethekeeping ofus. Ifyoudon’t—it’safine,law-abidingcountryis England,andthere’salwaysapolicemanwithinhail.’ “Well,downtheycametothewestcountry,there was no shaking them off, and there they have lived rent free on my best land ever since. There was no rest for me, no peace, no forgetfulness; turn where Iwould,therewashiscunning,grinningfaceatmy elbow. It grew worse as Alice grew up, for he soon sawIwasmoreafraidofherknowingmypastthan ofthepolice. Whateverhewantedhemusthave,and whatever it was I gave him without question, land, money,houses,untilatlastheaskedathingwhichI couldnotgive. HeaskedforAlice.</s>“Hisson,yousee,hadgrownup,andsohadmy girl, and as I was known to be in weak health, it seemedafinestroketohimthathisladshouldstep intothewholeproperty. ButthereIwasfirm. Iwould nothavehiscursedstockmixedwithmine;notthat I had any dislike to the lad, but his blood was in him, and that was enough. I stood firm. McCarthy threatened. Ibravedhimtodohisworst. Wewereto meetatthepoolmidwaybetweenourhousestotalk itover.</s>“When I went down there I found him talking withhisson,soIsmokedacigarandwaitedbehind a tree until he should be alone. But as I listened to his talk all that was black and bitter in me seemed tocomeuppermost. Hewasurginghissontomarry mydaughterwithaslittleregardforwhatshemight think as if she were a slut from off the streets. It drovememadtothinkthatIandallthatIheldmost dear should be in the power of such a man as this.</s>CouldInotsnapthebond? Iwasalreadyadyingand a desperate man. Though clear of mind and fairly strongoflimb,Iknewthatmyownfatewassealed.</s>But my memory and my girl! Both could be saved if I could but silence that foul tongue. I did it, Mr.</s>Holmes. Iwoulddoitagain. DeeplyasIhavesinned, I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But thatmygirlshouldbeentangledinthesamemeshes whichheldmewasmorethanIcouldsuffer. Istruck himdownwithnomorecompunctionthanifhehad beensomefoulandvenomousbeast. Hiscrybrought backhisson;butIhadgainedthecoverofthewood, though I was forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in my flight. That is the true story,gentlemen,ofallthatoccurred.” “Well,itisnotformetojudgeyou,”saidHolmes astheoldmansignedthestatementwhichhadbeen drawnout. “Ipraythatwemayneverbeexposedto suchatemptation.” “Ipraynot,sir. Andwhatdoyouintendtodo?” “Inviewofyourhealth,nothing. Youareyourself awarethatyouwillsoonhavetoanswerforyourdeed at a higher court than the Assizes. I will keep your confession,andifMcCarthyiscondemnedIshallbe forcedtouseit. Ifnot,itshallneverbeseenbymortal eye; and your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shallbesafewithus.” “Farewell,then,”saidtheoldmansolemnly. “Your own deathbeds, when they come, will be the easier forthethoughtofthepeacewhichyouhavegivento mine.” Tottering and shaking in all his giant frame, hestumbledslowlyfromtheroom.</s>“God help us!” said Holmes after a long silence.</s>“Why does fate play such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such a case as this that I do notthinkofBaxter’swords, andsay,‘There, butfor thegraceofGod,goesSherlockHolmes.’” JamesMcCarthywasacquittedattheAssizeson thestrengthofanumberofobjectionswhichhadbeen drawn out by Holmes and submitted to the defend- ingcounsel. OldTurnerlivedforsevenmonthsafter our interview, but he is now dead; and there is ev- eryprospectthatthesonanddaughtermaycometo livehappilytogetherinignoranceoftheblackcloud whichrestsupontheirpast.hen I glance over my notes and records oftheSherlockHolmescasesbetweenthe years ’82 and ’90, I am faced by so many W whichpresentstrangeandinterestingfea- turesthatitisnoeasymattertoknowwhichtochoose and which to leave. Some, however, have already gainedpublicitythroughthepapers,andothershave notofferedafieldforthosepeculiarqualitieswhich myfriendpossessedinsohighadegree,andwhich it is the object of these papers to illustrate. Some, too, have baffled his analytical skill, and would be, as narratives, beginnings without an ending, while others have been but partially cleared up, and have their explanations founded rather upon conjecture andsurmisethanonthatabsolutelogicalproofwhich was so dear to him. There is, however, one of these last which was so remarkable in its details and so startlinginitsresultsthatIamtemptedtogivesome accountofitinspiteofthefactthattherearepoints in connection with it which never have been, and probablyneverwillbe,entirelyclearedup.</s>The year ’87 furnished us with a long series of casesofgreaterorlessinterest,ofwhichIretainthe records. Amongmyheadingsunderthisonetwelve months I find an account of the adventure of the ParadolChamber,oftheAmateurMendicantSociety, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniturewarehouse,ofthefactsconnectedwiththe lossoftheBritishbarque“SophyAnderson”,ofthe singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the is- landofUffa,andfinallyoftheCamberwellpoisoning case. In the latter, as may be remembered, Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead man’s watch,toprovethatithadbeenwounduptwohours before, and that therefore the deceased had gone to bedwithinthattime—adeductionwhichwasofthe greatestimportanceinclearingupthecase. Allthese I may sketch out at some future date, but none of them present such singular features as the strange trainofcircumstanceswhichIhavenowtakenupmy pentodescribe.</s>It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctialgaleshadsetinwithexceptionalviolence.</s>All day the wind had screamed and the rain had beatenagainstthewindows,sothatevenhereinthe heart of great, hand-made London we were forced to raise our minds for the instant from the routine of life and to recognise the presence of those great elemental forces which shriek at mankind through the bars of his civilisation, like untamed beasts in a cage. Aseveningdrewin,thestormgrewhigherand louder,andthewindcriedandsobbedlikeachildin thechimney. SherlockHolmessatmoodilyatoneside of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of crime, whileIattheotherwasdeepinoneofClarkRussell’s finesea-storiesuntilthehowlofthegalefromwithout seemedtoblendwiththetext,andthesplashofthe rain to lengthen out into the long swash of the sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother’s, and forafewdaysIwasadwelleroncemoreinmyold quartersatBakerStreet.</s>“Why,”saidI,glancingupatmycompanion,“that wassurelythebell. Whocouldcometo-night? Some friendofyours,perhaps?” “ExceptyourselfIhavenone,”heanswered. “Ido notencouragevisitors.” “Aclient,then?” “If so, it is a serious case. Nothing less would bring a man out on such a day and at such an hour.</s>ButItakeitthatitismorelikelytobesomecronyof thelandlady’s.” Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for there came a step in the passage and atappingatthedoor. Hestretchedouthislongarm toturnthelampawayfromhimselfandtowardsthe vacantchairuponwhichanewcomermustsit.</s>“Comein!”saidhe.</s>Themanwhoenteredwasyoung,sometwo-and- twentyattheoutside,well-groomedandtrimlyclad, with something of refinement and delicacy in his bearing. The streaming umbrella which he held in his hand, and his long shining waterproof told of the fierce weather through which he had come. He lookedabouthimanxiouslyintheglareofthelamp, and I could see that his face was pale and his eyes heavy,likethoseofamanwhoisweigheddownwith somegreatanxiety.</s>“Ioweyouanapology,”hesaid,raisinghisgolden pince-neztohiseyes. “ItrustthatIamnotintruding.</s>I fear that I have brought some traces of the storm andrainintoyoursnugchamber.” “Givemeyourcoatandumbrella,”saidHolmes.</s>“They may rest here on the hook and will be dry presently. You have come up from the south-west, I see.” “Yes,fromHorsham.” “That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon yourtoecapsisquitedistinctive.” “Ihavecomeforadvice.” “Thatiseasilygot.” “Andhelp.” “Thatisnotalwayssoeasy.”“I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I heard from Major Prendergast how you saved him in the TankervilleClubscandal.” “Ah, of course. He was wrongfully accused of cheatingatcards.” “Hesaidthatyoucouldsolveanything.” “Hesaidtoomuch.” “Thatyouareneverbeaten.” “I have been beaten four times—three times by men,andoncebyawoman.” “But what is that compared with the number of yoursuccesses?” “ItistruethatIhavebeengenerallysuccessful.” “Thenyoumaybesowithme.” “Ibegthatyouwilldrawyourchairuptothefire andfavourmewithsomedetailsastoyourcase.” “Itisnoordinaryone.” “None of those which come to me are. I am the lastcourtofappeal.” “AndyetIquestion,sir,whether,inallyourexpe- rience, you have ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of events than those which havehappenedinmyownfamily.” “You fill me with interest,” said Holmes. “Pray give us the essential facts from the commencement, andIcanafterwardsquestionyouastothosedetails whichseemtometobemostimportant.” The young man pulled his chair up and pushed hiswetfeetouttowardstheblaze.</s>“Myname,”saidhe,“isJohnOpenshaw,butmy ownaffairshave,asfarasIcanunderstand,littleto dowiththisawfulbusiness. Itisahereditarymatter; soinordertogiveyouanideaofthefacts,Imustgo backtothecommencementoftheaffair.</s>“You must know that my grandfather had two sons—my uncle Elias and my father Joseph. My fa- ther had a small factory at Coventry, which he en- larged at the time of the invention of bicycling. He wasapatenteeoftheOpenshawunbreakabletire,and hisbusinessmetwithsuchsuccessthathewasable tosellitandtoretireuponahandsomecompetence.</s>“My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and became a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done very well. At thetimeofthewarhefoughtinJackson’sarmy,and afterwardsunderHood,whereherosetobeacolonel.</s>WhenLeelaiddownhisarmsmyunclereturnedto his plantation, where he remained for three or four years. About 1869 or 1870 he came back to Europe andtookasmallestateinSussex,nearHorsham. He had made a very considerable fortune in the States, and his reason for leaving them was his aversion to thenegroes,andhisdislikeoftheRepublicanpolicy inextendingthefranchisetothem. Hewasasingular man,fierceandquick-tempered,veryfoul-mouthed when he was angry, and of a most retiring disposi- tion. DuringalltheyearsthathelivedatHorsham,I doubtifeverhesetfootinthetown. Hehadagarden andtwoorthreefieldsroundhishouse,andtherehe wouldtakehisexercise,thoughveryoftenforweeks on end he would never leave his room. He drank a greatdealofbrandyandsmokedveryheavily,buthe would see no society and did not want any friends, notevenhisownbrother.</s>“Hedidn’tmindme;infact,hetookafancytome, for at the time when he saw me first I was a young- ster of twelve or so. This would be in the year 1878, afterhehadbeeneightornineyearsinEngland. He beggedmyfathertoletmelivewithhimandhewas very kind to me in his way. When he was sober he usedtobefondofplayingbackgammonanddraughts with me, and he would make me his representative bothwiththeservantsandwiththetradespeople,so thatbythetimethatIwassixteenIwasquitemaster ofthehouse. IkeptallthekeysandcouldgowhereI likedanddowhatIliked,solongasIdidnotdisturb himinhisprivacy. Therewasonesingularexception, however,forhehadasingleroom,alumber-roomup among the attics, which was invariably locked, and which he would never permit either me or anyone else to enter. With a boy’s curiosity I have peeped throughthekeyhole,butIwasneverabletoseemore than such a collection of old trunks and bundles as wouldbeexpectedinsucharoom.</s>“One day—it was in March, 1883—a letter with a foreign stamp lay upon the table in front of the colonel’s plate. It was not a common thing for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in ready money,andhehadnofriendsofanysort. ‘FromIn- dia!’ saidheashetookitup,‘Pondicherrypostmark! What can this be?’ Opening it hurriedly, out there jumpedfivelittledriedorangepips,whichpattered down upon his plate. I began to laugh at this, but thelaughwasstruckfrommylipsatthesightofhis face. Hisliphadfallen,hiseyeswereprotruding,his skinthecolourofputty,andheglaredattheenvelope which he still held in his trembling hand, ‘K. K. K.!’ he shrieked, and then, ‘My God, my God, my sins haveovertakenme!’ “‘Whatisit,uncle?’ Icried.“‘Death,’saidhe,andrisingfromthetablehere- tiredtohisroom,leavingmepalpitatingwithhorror.</s>I took up the envelope and saw scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the letter Kthreetimesrepeated. Therewasnothingelsesave thefivedried pips. Whatcould bethereasonof his overpoweringterror? Ileftthebreakfast-table,andas IascendedthestairImethimcomingdownwithan oldrustykey,whichmusthavebelongedtotheattic, inonehand,andasmallbrassbox,likeacashbox,in theother.</s>“‘Theymaydowhattheylike,butI’llcheckmate them still,’ said he with an oath. ‘Tell Mary that I shallwantafireinmyroomto-day,andsenddown toFordham,theHorshamlawyer.’ “Ididasheordered,andwhenthelawyerarrived I was asked to step up to the room. The fire was burningbrightly,andinthegratetherewasamassof black,fluffyashes,asofburnedpaper,whilethebrass boxstoodopenandemptybesideit. AsIglancedat theboxInoticed,withastart,thatuponthelidwas printedthetrebleKwhichIhadreadinthemorning upontheenvelope.</s>“‘Iwishyou,John,’saidmyuncle,‘towitnessmy will. Ileavemyestate,withallitsadvantagesandall itsdisadvantages,tomybrother,yourfather,whence itwill,nodoubt,descendtoyou. Ifyoucanenjoyitin peace,wellandgood! Ifyoufindyoucannot,takemy advice,myboy,andleaveittoyourdeadliestenemy.</s>Iamsorrytogiveyousuchatwo-edgedthing,butI can’tsaywhatturnthingsaregoingtotake. Kindly signthepaperwhereMr.Fordhamshowsyou.’ “I signed the paper as directed, and the lawyer took it away with him. The singular incident made, as you may think, the deepest impression upon me, and I pondered over it and turned it every way in mymindwithoutbeingabletomakeanythingofit.</s>Yet I could not shake off the vague feeling of dread whichitleftbehind,thoughthesensationgrewless keen as the weeks passed and nothing happened to disturb the usual routine of our lives. I could see a change in my uncle, however. He drank more than ever,andhewaslessinclinedforanysortofsociety.</s>Mostofhistimehewouldspendinhisroom,withthe doorlockedupontheinside,butsometimeshewould emergeinasortofdrunkenfrenzyandwouldburst out of the house and tear about the garden with a revolverinhishand,screamingoutthathewasafraid ofnoman,andthathewasnottobecoopedup,like a sheep in a pen, by man or devil. When these hot fitswereover,however,hewouldrushtumultuously in at the door and lock and bar it behind him, like a man who can brazen it out no longer against the terrorwhichliesattherootsofhissoul. Atsuchtimes Ihaveseenhisface,evenonacoldday,glistenwith moisture,asthoughitwerenewraisedfromabasin.</s>“Well,tocometoanendofthematter,Mr.Holmes, and not to abuse your patience, there came a night when he made one of those drunken sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when we went to search for him, face downward in a lit- tlegreen-scummedpool,whichlayatthefootofthe garden. There was no sign of any violence, and the waterwasbuttwofeetdeep,sothatthejury,having regardtohisknowneccentricity,broughtinaverdict of ‘suicide.’ But I, who knew how he winced from theverythoughtofdeath,hadmuchadotopersuade myselfthathehadgoneoutofhiswaytomeetit. The matterpassed,however,andmyfatherenteredinto possessionoftheestate,andofsome£14,000,which laytohiscreditatthebank.” “One moment,” Holmes interposed, “your state- ment is, I foresee, one of the most remarkable to which I have ever listened. Let me have the date of thereceptionbyyouruncleoftheletter,andthedate ofhissupposedsuicide.” “TheletterarrivedonMarch10,1883. Hisdeath wassevenweekslater,uponthenightofMay2nd.” “Thankyou. Prayproceed.” “WhenmyfathertookovertheHorshamproperty, he,atmyrequest,madeacarefulexaminationofthe attic, which had been always locked up. We found the brass box there, although its contents had been destroyed. Ontheinsideofthecoverwasapaperla- bel,withtheinitialsofK.K.K.repeateduponit,and ‘Letters,memoranda,receipts,andaregister’written beneath. These, we presume, indicated the nature ofthepaperswhichhadbeendestroyedbyColonel Openshaw. For the rest, there was nothing of much importance in the attic save a great many scattered papersandnote-booksbearinguponmyuncle’slife inAmerica. Someofthemwereofthewartimeand showedthathehaddonehisdutywellandhadborne the repute of a brave soldier. Others were of a date duringthereconstructionoftheSouthernstates,and weremostlyconcernedwithpolitics,forhehadevi- dentlytakenastrongpartinopposingthecarpet-bag politicianswhohadbeensentdownfromtheNorth.</s>“Well,itwasthebeginningof’84whenmyfather cametoliveatHorsham,andallwentaswellaspos- siblewithusuntiltheJanuaryof’85. Onthefourth dayafterthenewyearIheardmyfathergiveasharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the breakfast- table. There he was, sitting with a newly openedenvelope in one hand and five dried orange pips in the outstretched palm of the other one. He had al- ways laughed at what he called my cock-and-bull story about the colonel, but he looked very scared andpuzzlednowthatthesamethinghadcomeupon himself.</s>“‘Why, what on earth does this mean, John?’ he stammered.</s>“Myhearthadturnedtolead. ‘ItisK.K.K.,’said I.</s>“Helookedinsidetheenvelope. ‘Soitis,’hecried.</s>‘Here are the very letters. But what is this written abovethem?’ “‘Putthepapersonthesundial,’Iread,peeping overhisshoulder.</s>“‘Whatpapers? Whatsundial?’ heasked.</s>“‘The sundial in the garden. There is no other,’ said I; ‘but the papers must be those that are de- stroyed.’ “‘Pooh!’ said he, gripping hard at his courage.</s>‘We are in a civilised land here, and we can’t have tomfooleryofthiskind. Wheredoesthethingcome from?’ “‘FromDundee,’Ianswered,glancingatthepost- mark.</s>“‘Some preposterous practical joke,’ said he.</s>‘WhathaveItodowithsundialsandpapers? Ishall takenonoticeofsuchnonsense.’ “‘Ishouldcertainlyspeaktothepolice,’Isaid.</s>“‘Andbelaughedatformypains. Nothingofthe sort.’ “‘Thenletmedoso?’ “‘No,Iforbidyou. Iwon’thaveafussmadeabout suchnonsense.’ “It was in vain to argue with him, for he was a very obstinate man. I went about, however, with a heartwhichwasfullofforebodings.</s>“On the third day after the coming of the letter my father went from home to visit an old friend of his,MajorFreebody,whoisincommandofoneofthe fortsuponPortsdownHill. Iwasgladthatheshould go,foritseemedtomethathewasfartherfromdan- gerwhenhewasawayfromhome. Inthat,however, Iwasinerror. UpontheseconddayofhisabsenceI receivedatelegramfromthemajor,imploringmeto come at once. My father had fallen over one of the deepchalk-pitswhichaboundintheneighbourhood, andwaslyingsenseless,withashatteredskull. Ihur- riedtohim,buthepassedawaywithouthavingever recovered his consciousness. He had, as it appears, beenreturningfromFarehaminthetwilight,andas thecountrywasunknowntohim,andthechalk-pit unfenced,thejuryhadnohesitationinbringingina verdict of ‘death from accidental causes.’ Carefully asIexaminedeveryfactconnectedwithhisdeath,I wasunabletofindanythingwhichcouldsuggestthe ideaofmurder. Therewerenosignsofviolence,no footmarks,norobbery,norecordofstrangershaving beenseenupontheroads. AndyetIneednottellyou that my mind was far from at ease, and that I was well-nighcertainthatsomefoulplothadbeenwoven roundhim.</s>“In this sinister way I came into my inheritance.</s>YouwillaskmewhyIdidnotdisposeofit? Ianswer, becauseIwaswellconvincedthatourtroubleswere insomewaydependentuponanincidentinmyun- cle’slife,andthatthedangerwouldbeaspressingin onehouseasinanother.</s>“ItwasinJanuary,’85,thatmypoorfathermethis end, and two years and eight months have elapsed since then. During that time I have lived happily at Horsham,andIhadbeguntohopethatthiscursehad passed away from the family, and that it had ended withthelastgeneration. Ihadbeguntotakecomfort toosoon,however;yesterdaymorningtheblowfellin theveryshapeinwhichithadcomeuponmyfather.” The young man took from his waistcoat a crum- pledenvelope,andturningtothetableheshookout uponitfivelittledriedorangepips.</s>“This is the envelope,” he continued. “The post- mark is London—eastern division. Within are the very words which were upon my father’s last mes- sage: ‘K. K. K.’; and then ‘Put the papers on the sundial.’” “Whathaveyoudone?”askedHolmes.</s>“Nothing.” “Nothing?” “Totellthetruth”—hesankhisfaceintohisthin, white hands—“I have felt helpless. I have felt like oneofthosepoorrabbitswhenthesnakeiswrithing towardsit. Iseemtobeinthegraspofsomeresistless, inexorableevil,whichnoforesightandnoprecautions canguardagainst.” “Tut! tut!”criedSherlockHolmes. “Youmustact, man, or you are lost. Nothing but energy can save you. Thisisnotimefordespair.” “Ihaveseenthepolice.” “Ah!” “Buttheylistenedtomystorywithasmile. Iam convincedthattheinspectorhasformedtheopinionthat the letters are all practical jokes, and that the deaths of my relations were really accidents, as the jury stated, and were not to be connected with the warnings.” Holmesshookhisclenchedhandsintheair. “In- credibleimbecility!”hecried.</s>“They have, however, allowed me a policeman, whomayremaininthehousewithme.” “Hashecomewithyouto-night?” “No. Hisordersweretostayinthehouse.” AgainHolmesravedintheair.</s>“Whydidyoucometome,”hecried,“and,above all,whydidyounotcomeatonce?” “I did not know. It was only to-day that I spoke toMajorPrendergastaboutmytroublesandwasad- visedbyhimtocometoyou.” “Itisreallytwodayssinceyouhadtheletter. We should have acted before this. You have no further evidence,Isuppose,thanthatwhichyouhaveplaced before us—no suggestive detail which might help us?” “There is one thing,” said John Openshaw. He rummaged in his coat pocket, and, drawing out a pieceofdiscoloured,blue-tintedpaper,helaiditout uponthetable. “Ihavesomeremembrance,”saidhe, “thatonthedaywhenmyuncleburnedthepapersI observedthatthesmall,unburnedmarginswhichlay amidtheasheswereofthisparticularcolour. Ifound this single sheet upon the floor of his room, and I aminclinedtothinkthatitmaybeoneofthepapers whichhas,perhaps,flutteredoutfromamongtheoth- ers,andinthatwayhasescapeddestruction. Beyond thementionofpips,Idonotseethatithelpsusmuch.</s>I think myself that it is a page from some private diary. Thewritingisundoubtedlymyuncle’s.” Holmesmovedthelamp,andwebothbentover thesheetofpaper,whichshowedbyitsraggededge that it had indeed been torn from a book. It was headed,“March,1869,”andbeneathwerethefollow- ingenigmaticalnotices: 4th. Hudsoncame. Sameoldplatform.</s>7th. SetthepipsonMcCauley,Paramore,andJohn Swain,ofSt.Augustine.</s>9th. McCauleycleared.</s>10th. JohnSwaincleared.</s>12th. VisitedParamore. Allwell.</s>“Thankyou!”saidHolmes,foldingupthepaper andreturningittoourvisitor. “Andnowyoumust onnoaccountloseanotherinstant. Wecannotspare time even to discuss what you have told me. You mustgethomeinstantlyandact.” “WhatshallIdo?” “Thereisbutonethingtodo. Itmustbedoneat once. You must put this piece of paper which you have shown us into the brass box which you have described. Youmustalsoputinanotetosaythatall theotherpaperswereburnedbyyouruncle,andthat thisistheonlyonewhichremains. Youmustassert thatinsuchwordsaswillcarryconvictionwiththem.</s>Havingdonethis,youmustatonceputtheboxout uponthesundial,asdirected. Doyouunderstand?” “Entirely.” “Donotthinkofrevenge,oranythingofthesort, atpresent. Ithinkthatwemaygainthatbymeansof thelaw;butwehaveourwebtoweave,whiletheirs isalreadywoven. Thefirstconsiderationistoremove thepressingdangerwhichthreatensyou. Thesecond is to clear up the mystery and to punish the guilty parties.” “I thank you,” said the young man, rising and pullingonhisovercoat. “Youhavegivenmefreshlife andhope. Ishallcertainlydoasyouadvise.” “Donotloseaninstant. And,aboveall,takecare ofyourselfinthemeanwhile,forIdonotthinkthat therecanbeadoubtthatyouarethreatenedbyavery realandimminentdanger. Howdoyougoback?” “BytrainfromWaterloo.” “Itisnotyetnine. Thestreetswillbecrowded,so Itrustthatyoumaybeinsafety. Andyetyoucannot guardyourselftooclosely.” “Iamarmed.” “Thatiswell. To-morrowIshallsettoworkupon yourcase.” “IshallseeyouatHorsham,then?” “No,yoursecretliesinLondon. ItistherethatI shallseekit.” “Then I shall call upon you in a day, or in two days,withnewsastotheboxandthepapers. Ishall takeyouradviceineveryparticular.”Heshookhands with us and took his leave. Outside the wind still screamedandtherainsplashedandpatteredagainst thewindows. Thisstrange,wildstoryseemedtohave cometousfromamidthemadelements—blownin uponuslikeasheetofsea-weedinagale—andnow tohavebeenreabsorbedbythemoncemore.SherlockHolmessatforsometimeinsilence,with his head sunk forward and his eyes bent upon the redglowofthefire. Thenhelithispipe,andleaning backinhischairhewatchedthebluesmoke-ringsas theychasedeachotheruptotheceiling.</s>“Ithink,Watson,”heremarkedatlast,“thatofall ourcaseswehavehadnonemorefantasticthanthis.” “Save,perhaps,theSignofFour.” “Well,yes. Save,perhaps,that. AndyetthisJohn Openshaw seems to me to be walking amid even greaterperilsthandidtheSholtos.” “But have you,” I asked, “formed any definite conceptionastowhattheseperilsare?” “Therecanbenoquestionastotheirnature,”he answered.</s>“Then what are they? Who is this K. K. K., and whydoeshepursuethisunhappyfamily?” Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbowsuponthearmsofhischair,withhisfinger-tips together. “Theidealreasoner,”heremarked,“would, when he had once been shown a single fact in all itsbearings,deducefromitnotonlyallthechainof eventswhichleduptoitbutalsoalltheresultswhich would follow from it. As Cuvier could correctly de- scribeawholeanimalbythecontemplationofasingle bone,sotheobserverwhohasthoroughlyunderstood onelinkinaseriesofincidentsshouldbeabletoac- curatelystatealltheotherones,bothbeforeandafter.</s>Wehavenotyetgraspedtheresultswhichthereason alone can attain to. Problems may be solved in the studywhichhavebaffledallthosewhohavesought asolutionbytheaidoftheirsenses. Tocarrytheart, however, to its highest pitch, it is necessary that the reasonershouldbeabletoutiliseallthefactswhich havecometohisknowledge;andthisinitselfimplies, asyouwillreadilysee,apossessionofallknowledge, which,eveninthesedaysoffreeeducationandency- clopaedias,isasomewhatrareaccomplishment. Itis notsoimpossible,however,thatamanshouldpossess all knowledge which is likely to be useful to him in hiswork,andthisIhaveendeavouredinmycaseto do. IfIrememberrightly,youononeoccasion,inthe early days of our friendship, defined my limits in a veryprecisefashion.” “Yes,” I answered, laughing. “It was a singular document. Philosophy,astronomy,andpoliticswere marked at zero, I remember. Botany variable, geol- ogy profound as regards the mud-stains from any region within fifty miles of town, chemistry eccen- tric,anatomyunsystematic,sensationalliteratureand crime records unique, violin-player, boxer, swords- man,lawyer,andself-poisonerbycocaineandtobacco.</s>Those,Ithink,werethemainpointsofmyanalysis.” Holmesgrinnedatthelastitem. “Well,”hesaid, “Isaynow,asIsaidthen,thatamanshouldkeephis littlebrain-atticstockedwithallthefurniturethathe is likely to use, and the rest he can put away in the lumber-roomofhislibrary,wherehecangetitifhe wants it. Now, for such a case as the one which has been submitted to us to-night, we need certainly to musterallourresources. Kindlyhandmedownthe letterKofthe‘AmericanEncyclopaedia’whichstands upon the shelf beside you. Thank you. Now let us considerthesituationandseewhatmaybededuced fromit. Inthefirstplace,wemaystartwithastrong presumptionthatColonelOpenshawhadsomevery strongreasonforleavingAmerica. Menathistimeof lifedonotchangealltheirhabitsandexchangewill- ingly the charming climate of Florida for the lonely lifeofanEnglishprovincialtown. Hisextremelove ofsolitudeinEnglandsuggeststheideathathewas infearofsomeoneorsomething,sowemayassume asaworkinghypothesisthatitwasfearofsomeone or something which drove him from America. As to what it was he feared, we can only deduce that byconsideringtheformidableletterswhichwerere- ceivedbyhimselfandhissuccessors. Didyouremark thepostmarksofthoseletters?” “ThefirstwasfromPondicherry,thesecondfrom Dundee,andthethirdfromLondon.” “From East London. What do you deduce from that?” “They are all seaports. That the writer was on boardofaship.” “Excellent. Wehavealreadyaclue. Therecanbe no doubt that the probability—the strong probabil- ity—is that the writer was on board of a ship. And now let us consider another point. In the case of Pondicherry,sevenweekselapsedbetweenthethreat anditsfulfilment,inDundeeitwasonlysomethree orfourdays. Doesthatsuggestanything?” “Agreaterdistancetotravel.” “But the letter had also a greater distance to come.” “ThenIdonotseethepoint.” “Thereisatleastapresumptionthatthevesselin whichthemanormenareisasailing-ship. Itlooksas iftheyalwayssendtheirsingularwarningortokenbe- forethemwhenstartingupontheirmission. Yousee howquicklythedeedfollowedthesignwhenitcamefrom Dundee. If they had come from Pondicherry inasteamertheywouldhavearrivedalmostassoon as their letter. But, as a matter of fact, seven weeks elapsed. I think that those seven weeks represented thedifferencebetweenthemail-boatwhichbrought the letter and the sailing vessel which brought the writer.” “Itispossible.” “Morethanthat. Itisprobable. Andnowyousee thedeadlyurgencyofthisnewcase,andwhyIurged young Openshaw to caution. The blow has always fallenattheendofthetimewhichitwouldtakethe senders to travel the distance. But this one comes from London, and therefore we cannot count upon delay.” “Good God!” I cried. “What can it mean, this relentlesspersecution?” “The papers which Openshaw carried are obvi- ously of vital importance to the person or persons in the sailing-ship. I think that it is quite clear that theremustbemorethanoneofthem. Asingleman couldnothavecarriedouttwodeathsinsuchaway astodeceiveacoroner’sjury. Theremusthavebeen severalinit,andtheymusthavebeenmenofresource anddetermination. Theirpaperstheymeantohave, betheholderofthemwhoitmay. Inthiswayyousee K.K.K.ceasestobetheinitialsofanindividualand becomesthebadgeofasociety.” “Butofwhatsociety?” “Haveyounever—”saidSherlockHolmes,bend- ingforwardandsinkinghisvoice—“haveyounever heardoftheKuKluxKlan?” “Ineverhave.” Holmesturnedovertheleavesofthebookupon hisknee. “Hereitis,”saidhepresently: “‘Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resemblance to the sound produced by cocking a rifle. This terrible secret soci- ety was formed by some ex-Confederate sol- diers in the Southern states after the Civil War, and it rapidly formed local branches in differentpartsofthecountry,notablyinTen- nessee,Louisiana,theCarolinas,Georgia,and Florida. Its power was used for political pur- poses, principally for the terrorising of the negro voters and the murdering and driving fromthecountryofthosewhowereopposedto its views. Its outrages were usually preceded byawarningsenttothemarkedmaninsome fantastic but generally recognised shape—a sprigofoak-leavesinsomeparts,melonseeds or orange pips in others. On receiving this the victim might either openly abjure his for- mer ways, or might fly from the country. If hebravedthematterout,deathwouldunfail- ingly come upon him, and usually in some strange and unforeseen manner. So perfect was the organisation of the society, and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a case upon record where any man succeeded in braving it with impunity, or in which any of its outrages were traced home to the per- petrators. For some years the organisation flourished in spite of the efforts of the United Statesgovernmentandofthebetterclassesof the community in the South. Eventually, in theyear1869,themovementrathersuddenly collapsed, although there have been sporadic outbreaksofthesamesortsincethatdate.’ “You will observe,” said Holmes, laying down the volume,“thatthesuddenbreakingupofthesociety wascoincidentwiththedisappearanceofOpenshaw from America with their papers. It may well have been cause and effect. It is no wonder that he and hisfamilyhavesomeofthemoreimplacablespirits upontheirtrack. Youcanunderstandthatthisregis- teranddiarymayimplicatesomeofthefirstmenin theSouth,andthattheremaybemanywhowillnot sleepeasyatnightuntilitisrecovered.” “Thenthepagewehaveseen—” “Issuchaswemightexpect. Itran,ifIremember right,‘sentthepipstoA,B,andC’—thatis,sentthe society’swarningtothem. Thentherearesuccessive entriesthatAandBcleared,orleftthecountry,and finallythatCwasvisited,with,Ifear,asinisterresult forC.Well,Ithink,Doctor,thatwemayletsomelight intothisdarkplace,andIbelievethattheonlychance youngOpenshawhasinthemeantimeistodowhatI havetoldhim. Thereisnothingmoretobesaidorto bedoneto-night,sohandmeovermyviolinandlet ustrytoforgetforhalfanhourthemiserableweather andthestillmoremiserablewaysofourfellow-men.” It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shiningwithasubduedbrightnessthroughthedim veilwhichhangsoverthegreatcity. SherlockHolmes wasalreadyatbreakfastwhenIcamedown.</s>“Youwillexcusemefornotwaitingforyou,”said he; “I have, I foresee, a very busy day before me in lookingintothiscaseofyoungOpenshaw’s.” “Whatstepswillyoutake?”Iasked.</s>“Itwillverymuchdependupontheresultsofmy first inquiries. I may have to go down to Horsham, afterall.”“Youwillnotgotherefirst?” “No,IshallcommencewiththeCity. Justringthe bellandthemaidwillbringupyourcoffee.” AsIwaited,Iliftedtheunopenednewspaperfrom thetableandglancedmyeyeoverit. Itrestedupona headingwhichsentachilltomyheart.</s>“Holmes,”Icried,“youaretoolate.” “Ah!” said he, laying down his cup, “I feared as much. How was it done?” He spoke calmly, but I couldseethathewasdeeplymoved.</s>“MyeyecaughtthenameofOpenshaw, andthe heading‘TragedyNearWaterlooBridge.’ Hereisthe account: “Between nine and ten last night Police- Constable Cook, of the H Division, on duty nearWaterlooBridge,heardacryforhelpand asplashinthewater. Thenight,however,was extremely dark and stormy, so that, in spite of the help of several passers-by, it was quite impossibletoeffectarescue. Thealarm,how- ever, was given, and, by the aid of the water- police, the body was eventually recovered. It provedtobethatofayounggentlemanwhose name, as it appears from an envelope which wasfoundinhispocket,wasJohnOpenshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham. It is conjectured that he may have been hurrying down to catch the last train from Waterloo Station,andthatinhishasteandtheextreme darkness he missed his path and walked over theedgeofoneofthesmalllanding-placesfor riversteamboats. Thebodyexhibitednotraces ofviolence,andtherecanbenodoubtthatthe deceased had been the victim of an unfortu- nate accident, which should have the effect of calling the attention of the authorities to the conditionoftheriversidelanding-stages.” We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressedandshakenthanIhadeverseenhim.</s>“Thathurtsmypride,Watson,”hesaidatlast. “It isapettyfeeling,nodoubt,butithurtsmypride. It becomesapersonalmatterwithmenow,and,ifGod sendsmehealth,Ishallsetmyhanduponthisgang.</s>Thatheshouldcometomeforhelp,andthatIshould sendhimawaytohisdeath—!”Hesprangfromhis chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable agitation, with a flush upon his sallow cheeks and a nervous clasping and unclasping of his long thin hands.</s>“They must be cunning devils,” he exclaimed at last. “Howcouldtheyhavedecoyedhimdownthere? TheEmbankmentisnotonthedirectlinetothesta- tion. The bridge, no doubt, was too crowded, even onsuchanight,fortheirpurpose. Well,Watson,we shall see who will win in the long run. I am going outnow!” “Tothepolice?” “No;Ishallbemyownpolice. WhenIhavespun thewebtheymaytaketheflies,butnotbefore.” All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was late in the evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes had not come back yet. Itwasnearlyteno’clockbeforeheentered,look- ing pale and worn. He walked up to the sideboard, and tearing a piece from the loaf he devoured it vo- raciously, washing it down with a long draught of water.</s>“Youarehungry,”Iremarked.</s>“Starving. Ithadescapedmymemory. Ihavehad nothingsincebreakfast.” “Nothing?” “Notabite. Ihadnotimetothinkofit.” “Andhowhaveyousucceeded?” “Well.” “Youhaveaclue?” “I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not long remain unavenged. Why, Watson,letusputtheirowndevilishtrade-markupon them. Itiswellthoughtof!” “Whatdoyoumean?” Hetookanorangefromthecupboard,andtearing ittopieceshesqueezedoutthepipsuponthetable.</s>Ofthesehetookfiveandthrustthemintoanenvelope.</s>On the inside of the flap he wrote “S. H. for J. O.” Thenhesealeditandaddresseditto“CaptainJames Calhoun,BarqueLoneStar,Savannah,Georgia.” “That will await him when he enters port,” said he,chuckling. “Itmaygivehimasleeplessnight. He willfinditassureaprecursorofhisfateasOpenshaw didbeforehim.” “AndwhoisthisCaptainCalhoun?” “The leader of the gang. I shall have the others, buthefirst.” “Howdidyoutraceit,then?” Hetookalargesheetofpaperfromhispocket,all coveredwithdatesandnames.</s>“I have spent the whole day,” said he, “over Lloyd’sregistersandfilesoftheoldpapers,following the future career of every vessel which touched at Pondicherry in January and February in ’83. Therewere thirty-six ships of fair tonnage which were re- ported there during those months. Of these, one, theLoneStar,instantlyattractedmyattention,since, althoughitwasreportedashavingclearedfromLon- don, the name is that which is given to one of the statesoftheUnion.” “Texas,Ithink.” “Iwasnotandamnotsurewhich;butIknewthat theshipmusthaveanAmericanorigin.” “Whatthen?” “IsearchedtheDundeerecords,andwhenIfound thatthebarqueLoneStarwasthereinJanuary,’85,my suspicionbecameacertainty. Itheninquiredastothe vesselswhichlayatpresentintheportofLondon.” “Yes?” “TheLoneStarhadarrivedherelastweek. Iwent downtotheAlbertDockandfoundthatshehadbeen takendowntheriverbytheearlytidethismorning, homewardboundtoSavannah. IwiredtoGravesend andlearnedthatshehadpassedsometimeago,and asthewindiseasterlyIhavenodoubtthatsheisnow pasttheGoodwinsandnotveryfarfromtheIsleof Wight.” “Whatwillyoudo,then?” “Oh,Ihavemyhanduponhim. Heandthetwo mates,areasIlearn,theonlynative-bornAmericans in the ship. The others are Finns and Germans. I know, also, that they were all three away from the ship last night. I had it from the stevedore who has beenloadingtheircargo. Bythetimethattheirsailing- shipreachesSavannahthemail-boatwillhavecarried this letter, and the cable will have informed the po- liceofSavannahthatthesethreegentlemenarebadly wantedhereuponachargeofmurder.” There is ever a flaw, however, in the best laid of humanplans,andthemurderersofJohnOpenshaw were never to receive the orange pips which would showthemthatanother,ascunningandasresoluteas themselves,wasupontheirtrack. Verylongandvery severeweretheequinoctialgalesthatyear. Wewaited longfornewsoftheLoneStarofSavannah,butnone everreachedus. Wedidatlasthearthatsomewhere faroutintheAtlanticashatteredstern-postofaboat wasseenswinginginthetroughofawave,withthe letters“L.S.”carveduponit,andthatisallwhichwe shalleverknowofthefateoftheLoneStar.sa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whit- ney,D.D.,PrincipaloftheTheologicalCol- legeofSt.George’s,wasmuchaddictedto I opium. Thehabitgrewuponhim,asIun- derstand, from some foolish freak when he was at college;forhavingreadDeQuincey’sdescriptionof his dreams and sensations, he had drenched his to- bacco with laudanum in an attempt to produce the sameeffects. Hefound,assomanymorehavedone, that the practice is easier to attain than to get rid of,andformanyyearshecontinuedtobeaslaveto thedrug,anobjectofmingledhorrorandpitytohis friendsandrelatives. Icanseehimnow,withyellow, pasty face, drooping lids, and pin-point pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble man.</s>Onenight—itwasinJune,’89—therecamearing tomybell,aboutthehourwhenamangiveshisfirst yawn and glances at the clock. I sat up in my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work down in her lap andmadealittlefaceofdisappointment.</s>“Apatient!”saidshe. “You’llhavetogoout.” Igroaned,forIwasnewlycomebackfromaweary day.</s>Weheardthedooropen,afewhurriedwords,and then quick steps upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in some dark-coloured stuff,withablackveil,enteredtheroom.</s>“You will excuse my calling so late,” she began, and then, suddenly losing her self-control, she ran forward,threwherarmsaboutmywife’sneck,and sobbeduponhershoulder. “Oh,I’minsuchtrouble!” shecried;“Idosowantalittlehelp.” “Why,” said my wife, pulling up her veil, “it is KateWhitney. Howyoustartledme,Kate! Ihadnot anideawhoyouwerewhenyoucamein.” “I didn’t know what to do, so I came straight to you.” That was always the way. Folk who were in griefcametomywifelikebirdstoalight-house.</s>“Itwasverysweetofyoutocome. Now,youmust havesomewineandwater,andsitherecomfortably and tell us all about it. Or should you rather that I sentJamesofftobed?” “Oh,no,no! Iwantthedoctor’sadviceandhelp, too. It’s about Isa. He has not been home for two days. Iamsofrightenedabouthim!” It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her husband’s trouble, to me as a doctor, to mywifeasanoldfriendandschoolcompanion. We soothedandcomfortedherbysuchwordsaswecould find. Didsheknowwhereherhusbandwas? Wasit possiblethatwecouldbringhimbacktoher? It seems that it was. She had the surest informa- tion that of late he had, when the fit was on him, madeuseofanopiumdeninthefarthesteastofthe City. Hitherto his orgies had always been confined to one day, and he had come back, twitching and shattered,intheevening. Butnowthespellhadbeen upon him eight-and-forty hours, and he lay there, doubtlessamongthedregsofthedocks,breathingin the poison or sleeping off the effects. There he was tobefound,shewassureofit,attheBarofGold,in UpperSwandamLane. Butwhatwasshetodo? How couldshe,ayoungandtimidwoman,makeherway into such a place and pluck her husband out from amongtheruffianswhosurroundedhim? There was the case, and of course there was but onewayoutofit. MightInotescorthertothisplace? Andthen,asasecondthought,whyshouldshecome at all? I was Isa Whitney’s medical adviser, and as such I had influence over him. I could manage it betterifIwerealone. Ipromisedheronmywordthat Iwouldsendhimhomeinacabwithintwohoursif he were indeed at the address which she had given me. And so in ten minutes I had left my armchair andcheerysitting-roombehindme,andwasspeed- ing eastward in a hansom on a strange errand, as it seemed to me at the time, though the future only couldshowhowstrangeitwastobe.</s>Buttherewasnogreatdifficultyinthefirststage ofmyadventure. UpperSwandamLaneisavileal- ley lurking behind the high wharves which line the north side of the river to the east of London Bridge.</s>Betweenaslop-shopandagin-shop,approachedbya steepflightofstepsleadingdowntoablackgaplike themouthofacave,IfoundthedenofwhichIwas in search. Ordering my cab to wait, I passed down thesteps,wornhollowinthecentrebytheceaseless treadofdrunkenfeet;andbythelightofaflickering oil-lampabovethedoorIfoundthelatchandmade mywayintoalong,lowroom,thickandheavywith thebrownopiumsmoke,andterracedwithwooden berths,liketheforecastleofanemigrantship.</s>Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying in strange fantastic poses, bowedshoulders,bentknees,headsthrownback,and chins pointing upward, with here and there a dark, lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of theblackshadowsthereglimmeredlittleredcircles oflight,nowbright,nowfaint,astheburningpoison waxedorwanedinthebowlsofthemetalpipes. The mostlaysilent,butsomemutteredtothemselves,andotherstalkedtogetherinastrange,low,monotonous voice,theirconversationcomingingushes,andthen suddenlytailingoffintosilence,eachmumblingout hisownthoughtsandpayinglittleheedtothewords of his neighbour. At the farther end was a small brazierofburningcharcoal,besidewhichonathree- legged wooden stool there sat a tall, thin old man, withhisjawrestinguponhistwofists,andhiselbows uponhisknees,staringintothefire.</s>As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hur- riedupwithapipeformeandasupplyofthedrug, beckoningmetoanemptyberth.</s>“Thank you. I have not come to stay,” said I.</s>“Thereisafriendofminehere,Mr.IsaWhitney,and Iwishtospeakwithhim.” Therewasamovementandanexclamationfrom myright,andpeeringthroughthegloom,IsawWhit- ney,pale,haggard,andunkempt,staringoutatme.</s>“My God! It’s Watson,” said he. He was in a pitiablestateofreaction,witheverynerveinatwitter.</s>“Isay,Watson,whato’clockisit?” “Nearlyeleven.” “Ofwhatday?” “OfFriday,June19th.” “Goodheavens! IthoughtitwasWednesday. Itis Wednesday. Whatd’youwanttofrightenachapfor?” Hesankhisfaceontohisarmsandbegantosobina hightreblekey.</s>“I tell you that it is Friday, man. Your wife has been waiting this two days for you. You should be ashamedofyourself!” “So I am. But you’ve got mixed, Watson, for I have only been here a few hours, three pipes, four pipes—Iforgethowmany. ButI’llgohomewithyou.</s>I wouldn’t frighten Kate—poor little Kate. Give me yourhand! Haveyouacab?” “Yes,Ihaveonewaiting.” “ThenIshallgoinit. ButImustowesomething.</s>FindwhatIowe,Watson. Iamalloffcolour. Icando nothingformyself.” I walked down the narrow passage between the double row of sleepers, holding my breath to keep outthevile,stupefyingfumesofthedrug,andlook- ingaboutforthemanager. AsIpassedthetallman who sat by the brazier I felt a sudden pluck at my skirt,andalowvoicewhispered,“Walkpastme,and thenlookbackatme.”Thewordsfellquitedistinctly uponmyear. Iglanceddown. Theycouldonlyhave come from the old man at my side, and yet he sat now as absorbed as ever, very thin, very wrinkled, bent with age, an opium pipe dangling down from betweenhisknees,asthoughithaddroppedinsheer lassitude from his fingers. I took two steps forward andlookedback. Ittookallmyself-controltoprevent mefrombreakingoutintoacryofastonishment. He hadturnedhisbacksothatnonecouldseehimbutI.</s>Hisformhadfilledout,hiswrinklesweregone,the dulleyeshadregainedtheirfire,andthere,sittingby thefireandgrinningatmysurprise,wasnoneother than Sherlock Holmes. He made a slight motion to metoapproachhim,andinstantly,asheturnedhis facehalfroundtothecompanyoncemore,subsided intoadoddering,loose-lippedsenility.</s>“Holmes!” I whispered, “what on earth are you doinginthisden?” “As low as you can,” he answered; “I have ex- cellent ears. If you would have the great kindness to get rid of that sottish friend of yours I should be exceedinglygladtohavealittletalkwithyou.” “Ihaveacaboutside.” “Thenpraysendhimhomeinit. Youmaysafely trust him, for he appears to be too limp to get into anymischief. Ishouldrecommendyoualsotosenda notebythecabmantoyourwifetosaythatyouhave throwninyourlotwithme. Ifyouwillwaitoutside, Ishallbewithyouinfiveminutes.” ItwasdifficulttorefuseanyofSherlockHolmes’ requests,fortheywerealwayssoexceedinglydefinite, and put forward with such a quiet air of mastery. I felt,however,thatwhenWhitneywasonceconfined inthecabmymissionwaspracticallyaccomplished; andfortherest,Icouldnotwishanythingbetterthan to be associated with my friend in one of those sin- gular adventures which were the normal condition of his existence. In a few minutes I had written my note,paidWhitney’sbill,ledhimouttothecab,and seenhimdriventhroughthedarkness. Inaveryshort timeadecrepitfigurehademergedfromtheopium den,andIwaswalkingdownthestreetwithSherlock Holmes. Fortwostreetsheshuffledalongwithabent back and an uncertain foot. Then, glancing quickly round, he straightened himself out and burst into a heartyfitoflaughter.</s>“I suppose, Watson,” said he, “that you imagine that I have added opium-smoking to cocaine injec- tions,andalltheotherlittleweaknessesonwhichyou havefavouredmewithyourmedicalviews.” “Iwascertainlysurprisedtofindyouthere.” “ButnotmoresothanItofindyou.” “Icametofindafriend.” “AndItofindanenemy.”“Anenemy?” “Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural prey. Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable inquiry, and I have hoped to findaclueintheincoherentramblingsofthesesots, as I have done before now. Had I been recognised in that den my life would not have been worth an hour’spurchase;forIhaveuseditbeforenowformy own purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to have vengeance upon me. There is a trap-dooratthebackofthatbuilding,nearthecorner ofPaul’sWharf,whichcouldtellsomestrangetales of what has passed through it upon the moonless nights.” “What! Youdonotmeanbodies?” “Ay,bodies,Watson. Weshouldberichmenifwe had£1000foreverypoordevilwhohasbeendoneto deathinthatden. Itisthevilestmurder-traponthe whole riverside, and I fear that Neville St. Clair has entereditnevertoleaveitmore. Butourtrapshould behere.”Heputhistwoforefingersbetweenhisteeth andwhistledshrilly—asignalwhichwasansweredby asimilarwhistlefromthedistance,followedshortly bytherattleofwheelsandtheclinkofhorses’hoofs.</s>“Now, Watson,” said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed up through the gloom, throwing out two goldentunnelsofyellowlightfromitssidelanterns.</s>“You’llcomewithme,won’tyou?” “IfIcanbeofuse.” “Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chroniclerstillmoreso. MyroomatTheCedarsisa double-beddedone.” “TheCedars?” “Yes; that is Mr. St. Clair’s house. I am staying therewhileIconducttheinquiry.” “Whereisit,then?” “Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive beforeus.” “ButIamallinthedark.” “Of course you are. You’ll know all about it presently. Jump up here. All right, John; we shall notneedyou. Here’shalfacrown. Lookoutforme to-morrow,abouteleven. Giveherherhead. Solong, then!” Heflickedthehorsewithhiswhip,andwedashed awaythroughtheendlesssuccessionofsombreand desertedstreets,whichwidenedgradually,untilwe wereflyingacrossabroadbalustradedbridge,with the murky river flowing sluggishly beneath us. Be- yondlayanotherdullwildernessofbricksandmortar, itssilencebrokenonlybytheheavy,regularfootfall of the policeman, or the songs and shouts of some belated party of revellers. A dull wrack was drift- ingslowlyacrossthesky,andastarortwotwinkled dimlyhereandtherethroughtheriftsoftheclouds.</s>Holmesdroveinsilence,withhisheadsunkuponhis breast, and the air of a man who is lost in thought, whileIsatbesidehim,curioustolearnwhatthisnew quest might be which seemed to tax his powers so sorely,andyetafraidtobreakinuponthecurrentof histhoughts. Wehaddrivenseveralmiles,andwere beginningtogettothefringeofthebeltofsuburban villas, when he shook himself, shrugged his shoul- ders, and lit up his pipe with the air of a man who hassatisfiedhimselfthatheisactingforthebest.</s>“Youhaveagrandgiftofsilence,Watson,”saidhe.</s>“Itmakesyouquiteinvaluableasacompanion. ’Pon myword,itisagreatthingformetohavesomeone totalkto,formyownthoughtsarenotover-pleasant.</s>IwaswonderingwhatIshouldsaytothisdearlittle womanto-nightwhenshemeetsmeatthedoor.” “YouforgetthatIknownothingaboutit.” “I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before we get to Lee. It seems absurdly sim- ple,andyet,somehowIcangetnothingtogoupon.</s>There’splentyofthread,nodoubt,butIcan’tgetthe endofitintomyhand. Now,I’llstatethecaseclearly andconciselytoyou,Watson,andmaybeyoucansee asparkwhereallisdarktome.” “Proceed,then.” “Some years ago—to be definite, in May, 1884—therecametoLeeagentleman,NevilleSt.Clair byname,whoappearedtohaveplentyofmoney. He took a large villa, laid out the grounds very nicely, and lived generally in good style. By degrees he made friends in the neighbourhood, and in 1887 he marriedthedaughterofalocalbrewer,bywhomhe now has two children. He had no occupation, but was interested in several companies and went into townasaruleinthemorning,returningbythe5.14 fromCannonStreeteverynight. Mr.St.Clairisnow thirty-sevenyearsofage,isamanoftemperatehabits, agoodhusband,averyaffectionatefather,andaman who is popular with all who know him. I may add thathiswholedebtsatthepresentmoment,asfaras we have been able to ascertain, amount to £88 10s., whilehehas£220standingtohiscreditintheCapital andCountiesBank. Thereisnoreason,therefore,to thinkthatmoneytroubleshavebeenweighingupon hismind.</s>“LastMondayMr.NevilleSt.Clairwentintotown ratherearlierthanusual,remarkingbeforehestartedthathehadtwoimportantcommissionstoperform, andthathewouldbringhislittleboyhomeaboxof bricks. Now,bythemerestchance,hiswifereceived a telegram upon this same Monday, very shortly af- ter his departure, to the effect that a small parcel of considerablevaluewhichshehadbeenexpectingwas waitingforherattheofficesoftheAberdeenShipping Company. Now, if you are well up in your London, you will know that the office of the company is in FresnoStreet,whichbranchesoutofUpperSwandam Lane,whereyoufoundmeto-night. Mrs.St.Clairhad her lunch, started for the City, did some shopping, proceeded to the company’s office, got her packet, and found herself at exactly 4.35 walking through SwandamLaneonherwaybacktothestation. Have youfollowedmesofar?” “Itisveryclear.” “If you remember, Monday was an exceedingly hot day, and Mrs. St. Clair walked slowly, glancing about in the hope of seeing a cab, as she did not like the neighbourhood in which she found herself.</s>WhileshewaswalkinginthiswaydownSwandam Lane,shesuddenlyheardanejaculationorcry,and wasstruckcoldtoseeherhusbandlookingdownat herand,asitseemedtoher,beckoningtoherfroma second-floorwindow. Thewindowwasopen,andshe distinctlysawhisface,whichshedescribesasbeing terribly agitated. He waved his hands frantically to her,andthenvanishedfromthewindowsosuddenly thatitseemedtoherthathehadbeenpluckedback by some irresistible force from behind. One singu- lar point which struck her quick feminine eye was that although he wore some dark coat, such as he had started to town in, he had on neither collar nor necktie.</s>“Convincedthatsomethingwasamisswithhim, sherusheddownthesteps—forthehousewasnone other than the opium den in which you found me to-night—and running through the front room she attempted to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. Atthefootofthestairs,however,shemetthis LascarscoundrelofwhomIhavespoken,whothrust herbackand,aidedbyaDane,whoactsasassistant there,pushedheroutintothestreet. Filledwiththe mostmaddeningdoubtsandfears,sherusheddown the lane and, by rare good-fortune, met in Fresno Street a number of constables with an inspector, all ontheirwaytotheirbeat. Theinspectorandtwomen accompaniedherback,andinspiteofthecontinued resistance of the proprietor, they made their way to the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been seen.</s>Therewasnosignofhimthere. Infact,inthewhole ofthatfloortherewasnoonetobefoundsaveacrip- pledwretchofhideousaspect,who,itseems,made hishomethere. BothheandtheLascarstoutlyswore that no one else had been in the front room during the afternoon. So determined was their denial that theinspectorwasstaggered,andhadalmostcometo believe that Mrs. St. Clair had been deluded when, withacry,shesprangatasmalldealboxwhichlay uponthetableandtorethelidfromit. Outtherefell acascadeofchildren’sbricks. Itwasthetoywhichhe hadpromisedtobringhome.</s>“Thisdiscovery,andtheevidentconfusionwhich the cripple showed, made the inspector realise that the matter was serious. The rooms were carefully examined, and results all pointed to an abominable crime. The front room was plainly furnished as a sitting-room and led into a small bedroom, which lookedoutuponthebackofoneofthewharves. Be- tween the wharf and the bedroom window is a nar- row strip, which is dry at low tide but is covered at high tide with at least four and a half feet of water.</s>Thebedroomwindowwasabroadoneandopened frombelow. Onexaminationtracesofbloodwereto be seen upon the windowsill, and several scattered dropswerevisibleuponthewoodenfloorofthebed- room. Thrustawaybehindacurtaininthefrontroom werealltheclothesofMr.NevilleSt.Clair,withthe exception of his coat. His boots, his socks, his hat, andhiswatch—allwerethere. Therewerenosignsof violenceuponanyofthesegarments,andtherewere no other traces of Mr. Neville St. Clair. Out of the windowhemustapparentlyhavegonefornoother exitcouldbediscovered,andtheominousbloodstains upon the sill gave little promise that he could save himself by swimming, for the tide was at its very highestatthemomentofthetragedy.</s>“And now as to the villains who seemed to be immediatelyimplicatedinthematter. TheLascarwas knowntobeamanofthevilestantecedents,butas, byMrs.St.Clair’sstory,hewasknowntohavebeen at the foot of the stair within a very few seconds of her husband’s appearance at the window, he could hardlyhavebeenmorethananaccessorytothecrime.</s>His defence was one of absolute ignorance, and he protestedthathehadnoknowledgeastothedoings of Hugh Boone, his lodger, and that he could not account in any way for the presence of the missing gentleman’sclothes.</s>“So much for the Lascar manager. Now for the sinistercripplewholivesuponthesecondfloorofthe opium den, and who was certainly the last human being whose eyes rested upon Neville St. Clair. Hisname is Hugh Boone, and his hideous face is one which is familiar to every man who goes much to the City. He is a professional beggar, though in or- der to avoid the police regulations he pretends to a smalltradeinwaxvestas. Somelittledistancedown Threadneedle Street, upon the left-hand side, there is, as you may have remarked, a small angle in the wall. Hereitisthatthiscreaturetakeshisdailyseat, cross-leggedwithhistinystockofmatchesonhislap, andasheisapiteousspectacleasmallrainofcharity descendsintothegreasyleathercapwhichliesupon thepavementbesidehim. Ihavewatchedthefellow morethanoncebeforeeverIthoughtofmakinghis professionalacquaintance,andIhavebeensurprised at the harvest which he has reaped in a short time.</s>His appearance, you see, is so remarkable that no onecanpasshimwithoutobservinghim. Ashockof orangehair,apalefacedisfiguredbyahorriblescar, which, by its contraction, has turned up the outer edge of his upper lip, a bulldog chin, and a pair of verypenetratingdarkeyes,whichpresentasingular contrast to the colour of his hair, all mark him out fromamidthecommoncrowdofmendicantsandso, too,doeshiswit,forheiseverreadywithareplyto anypieceofchaffwhichmaybethrownathimbythe passers-by. This is the man whom we now learn to havebeenthelodgerattheopiumden,andtohave beenthelastmantoseethegentlemanofwhomwe areinquest.” “Butacripple!”saidI.“Whatcouldhehavedone single-handedagainstamanintheprimeoflife?” “Heisacrippleinthesensethathewalkswitha limp; but in other respects he appears to be a pow- erful and well-nurtured man. Surely your medical experience would tell you, Watson, that weakness inonelimbisoftencompensatedforbyexceptional strengthintheothers.” “Praycontinueyournarrative.” “Mrs.St.Clairhadfaintedatthesightoftheblood upon the window, and she was escorted home in a cabbythepolice,asherpresencecouldbeofnohelp tothemintheirinvestigations. InspectorBarton,who had charge of the case, made a very careful exami- nationofthepremises,butwithoutfindinganything whichthrewanylightuponthematter. Onemistake had been made in not arresting Boone instantly, as hewasallowedsomefewminutesduringwhichhe might have communicated with his friend the Las- car, but this fault was soon remedied, and he was seizedandsearched,withoutanythingbeingfound which could incriminate him. There were, it is true, someblood-stainsuponhisrightshirt-sleeve,buthe pointed to his ring-finger, which had been cut near thenail,andexplainedthatthebleedingcamefrom there, adding that he had been to the window not long before, and that the stains which had been ob- served there came doubtless from the same source.</s>HedeniedstrenuouslyhavingeverseenMr.Neville St. Clair and swore that the presence of the clothes inhisroomwasasmuchamysterytohimastothe police. As to Mrs. St. Clair’s assertion that she had actuallyseenherhusbandatthewindow,hedeclared thatshemusthavebeeneithermadordreaming. He wasremoved,loudlyprotesting,tothepolice-station, while the inspector remained upon the premises in thehopethattheebbingtidemightaffordsomefresh clue.</s>“Anditdid,thoughtheyhardlyfounduponthe mud-bank what they had feared to find. It was Neville St. Clair’s coat, and not Neville St. Clair, whichlayuncoveredasthetidereceded. Andwhat doyouthinktheyfoundinthepockets?” “Icannotimagine.” “No,Idon’tthinkyouwouldguess. Everypocket stuffedwithpenniesandhalf-pennies—421pennies and 270 half-pennies. It was no wonder that it had notbeensweptawaybythetide. Butahumanbody is a different matter. There is a fierce eddy between thewharfandthehouse. Itseemedlikelyenoughthat the weighted coat had remained when the stripped bodyhadbeensuckedawayintotheriver.” “ButIunderstandthatalltheotherclotheswere foundintheroom. Wouldthebodybedressedina coatalone?” “No, sir, but the facts might be met speciously enough. Suppose that this man Boone had thrust Neville St. Clair through the window, there is no human eye which could have seen the deed. What wouldhedothen? Itwouldofcourseinstantlystrike him that he must get rid of the tell-tale garments.</s>He would seize the coat, then, and be in the act of throwing it out, when it would occur to him that it would swim and not sink. He has little time, for he has heard the scuffle downstairs when the wife triedtoforceherwayup,andperhapshehasalready heardfromhisLascarconfederatethatthepoliceare hurryingupthestreet. Thereisnotaninstantto be lost. He rushes to some secret hoard, where he has accumulated the fruits of his beggary, and he stuffs allthecoinsuponwhichhecanlayhishandsintothe pocketstomakesureofthecoat’ssinking. Hethrows itout,andwouldhavedonethesamewiththeother garments had not he heard the rush of steps below,andonlyjusthadtimetoclosethewindowwhenthe policeappeared.” “Itcertainlysoundsfeasible.” “Well, we will take it as a working hypothesis for want of a better. Boone, as I have told you, was arrested and taken to the station, but it could not be shown that there had ever before been anything against him. He had for years been known as a professional beggar, but his life appeared to have beenaveryquietandinnocentone. Therethematter stands at present, and the questions which have to be solved—what Neville St. Clair was doing in the opiumden,whathappenedtohimwhenthere,where ishenow,andwhatHughBoonehadtodowithhis disappearance—areallasfarfromasolutionasever.</s>IconfessthatIcannotrecallanycasewithinmyexpe- riencewhichlookedatthefirstglancesosimpleand yetwhichpresentedsuchdifficulties.” WhileSherlockHolmeshadbeendetailingthissin- gularseriesofevents,wehadbeenwhirlingthrough theoutskirtsofthegreattownuntilthelaststraggling houses had been left behind, and we rattled along withacountryhedgeuponeithersideofus. Justas hefinished,however,wedrovethroughtwoscattered villages, where a few lights still glimmered in the windows.</s>“WeareontheoutskirtsofLee,”saidmycompan- ion. “We have touched on three English counties in our short drive, starting in Middlesex, passing over anangleofSurrey,andendinginKent. Seethatlight amongthetrees? ThatisTheCedars,andbesidethat lampsitsawomanwhoseanxiousearshavealready,I havelittledoubt,caughttheclinkofourhorse’sfeet.” “But why are you not conducting the case from BakerStreet?”Iasked.</s>“Becausetherearemanyinquirieswhichmustbe madeouthere. Mrs.St.Clairhasmostkindlyputtwo roomsatmydisposal,andyoumayrestassuredthat she will have nothing but a welcome for my friend and colleague. I hate to meet her, Watson, when I have no news of her husband. Here we are. Whoa, there,whoa!” We had pulled up in front of a large villa which stoodwithinitsowngrounds. Astable-boyhadrun out to the horse’s head, and springing down, I fol- lowed Holmes up the small, winding gravel-drive whichledtothehouse. Asweapproached,thedoor flew open, and a little blonde woman stood in the opening,cladinsomesortoflightmousselinedesoie, with a touch of fluffy pink chiffon at her neck and wrists. Shestoodwithherfigureoutlinedagainstthe floodoflight,onehanduponthedoor,onehalf-raised inhereagerness,herbodyslightlybent,herheadand face protruded, with eager eyes and parted lips, a standingquestion.</s>“Well?” she cried, “well?” And then, seeing that there were two of us, she gave a cry of hope which sank into a groan as she saw that my companion shookhisheadandshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“Nogoodnews?” “None.” “Nobad?” “No.” “Thank God for that. But come in. You must be weary,foryouhavehadalongday.” “This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has been of most vital use to me in several of my cases, and a luckychancehasmadeitpossibleformetobringhim outandassociatehimwiththisinvestigation.” “Iamdelightedtoseeyou,”saidshe,pressingmy handwarmly. “Youwill,Iamsure,forgiveanything thatmaybewantinginourarrangements,whenyou considertheblowwhichhascomesosuddenlyupon us.” “My dear madam,” said I, “I am an old cam- paigner, and if I were not I can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of any assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be indeed happy.” “Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,” said the lady as weenteredawell-litdining-room,uponthetableof whichacoldsupperhadbeenlaidout,“Ishouldvery much like to ask you one or two plain questions, to whichIbegthatyouwillgiveaplainanswer.” “Certainly,madam.” “Donottroubleaboutmyfeelings. Iamnothys- terical, nor given to fainting. I simply wish to hear yourreal,realopinion.” “Uponwhatpoint?” “Inyourheartofhearts,doyouthinkthatNeville isalive?” Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by thequestion. “Frankly,now!”sherepeated,standing upontherugandlookingkeenlydownathimashe leanedbackinabasket-chair.</s>“Frankly,then,madam,Idonot.” “Youthinkthatheisdead?” “Ido.” “Murdered?” “Idon’tsaythat. Perhaps.”“Andonwhatdaydidhemeethisdeath?” “OnMonday.” “Then perhaps, Mr. Holmes, you will be good enough to explain how it is that I have received a letterfromhimto-day.” Sherlock Holmes sprang out of his chair as if he hadbeengalvanised.</s>“What!”heroared.</s>“Yes,to-day.”Shestoodsmiling,holdingupalittle slipofpaperintheair.</s>“MayIseeit?” “Certainly.” He snatched it from her in his eagerness, and smoothing it out upon the table he drew over the lamp and examined it intently. I had left my chair andwasgazingatitoverhisshoulder. Theenvelope was a very coarse one and was stamped with the Gravesend postmark and with the date of that very day,orratherofthedaybefore,foritwasconsiderably aftermidnight.</s>“Coarsewriting,”murmuredHolmes. “Surelythis isnotyourhusband’swriting,madam.” “No,buttheenclosureis.” “Iperceivealsothatwhoeveraddressedtheenve- lopehadtogoandinquireastotheaddress.” “Howcanyoutellthat?” “The name, you see, is in perfectly black ink, whichhasdrieditself. Therestisofthegreyishcolour, whichshowsthatblotting-paperhasbeenused. Ifit hadbeenwrittenstraightoff,andthenblotted,none wouldbeofadeepblackshade. Thismanhaswritten thename,andtherehasthenbeenapausebeforehe wrotetheaddress,whichcanonlymeanthathewas notfamiliarwithit. Itis,ofcourse,atrifle,butthere isnothingsoimportantastrifles. Letusnowseethe letter. Ha! therehasbeenanenclosurehere!” “Yes,therewasaring. Hissignet-ring.” “And you are sure that this is your husband’s hand?” “Oneofhishands.” “One?” “His hand when he wrote hurriedly. It is very unlikehisusualwriting,andyetIknowitwell.” “Dearest do not be frightened. All will comewell. Thereisahugeerrorwhichit may take some little time to rectify. Wait inpatience.</s>—“Neville.</s>Written in pencil upon the fly-leaf of a book, oc- tavo size, no water-mark. Hum! Posted to-day in Gravesendbyamanwithadirtythumb. Ha! Andthe flaphasbeengummed,ifIamnotverymuchinerror, by a person who had been chewing tobacco. And you have no doubt that it is your husband’s hand, madam?” “None. Nevillewrotethosewords.” “Andtheywerepostedto-dayatGravesend. Well, Mrs.St.Clair,thecloudslighten,thoughIshouldnot venturetosaythatthedangerisover.” “Buthemustbealive,Mr.Holmes.” “Unless this is a clever forgery to put us on the wrong scent. The ring, after all, proves nothing. It mayhavebeentakenfromhim.” “No,no;itis,itishisveryownwriting!” “Verywell. Itmay,however,havebeenwrittenon Mondayandonlypostedto-day.” “Thatispossible.” “Ifso,muchmayhavehappenedbetween.” “Oh, you must not discourage me, Mr. Holmes.</s>I know that all is well with him. There is so keen a sympathybetweenusthatIshouldknowifevilcame uponhim. OntheverydaythatIsawhimlasthecut himselfinthebedroom,andyetIinthedining-room rushed upstairs instantly with the utmost certainty that something had happened. Do you think that I wouldrespondtosuchatrifleandyetbeignorantof hisdeath?” “I have seen too much not to know that the im- pressionofawomanmaybemorevaluablethanthe conclusionofananalyticalreasoner. Andinthisletter youcertainlyhaveaverystrongpieceofevidenceto corroborate your view. But if your husband is alive andabletowriteletters,whyshouldheremainaway fromyou?” “Icannotimagine. Itisunthinkable.” “AndonMondayhemadenoremarksbeforeleav- ingyou?” “No.” “AndyouweresurprisedtoseehiminSwandam Lane?” “Verymuchso.” “Wasthewindowopen?” “Yes.” “Thenhemighthavecalledtoyou?” “Hemight.”“He only, as I understand, gave an inarticulate cry?” “Yes.” “Acallforhelp,youthought?” “Yes. Hewavedhishands.” “Butitmighthavebeenacryofsurprise. Aston- ishmentattheunexpectedsightofyoumightcause himtothrowuphishands?” “Itispossible.” “Andyouthoughthewaspulledback?” “Hedisappearedsosuddenly.” “He might have leaped back. You did not see anyoneelseintheroom?” “No, but this horrible man confessed to having been there, and the Lascar was at the foot of the stairs.” “Quiteso. Yourhusband,asfarasyoucouldsee, hadhisordinaryclotheson?” “Butwithouthiscollarortie. Idistinctlysawhis barethroat.” “HadheeverspokenofSwandamLane?” “Never.” “Had he ever showed any signs of having taken opium?” “Never.” “Thankyou,Mrs.St.Clair. Thosearetheprincipal points about which I wished to be absolutely clear.</s>Weshallnowhavealittlesupperandthenretire,for wemayhaveaverybusydayto-morrow.” Alargeandcomfortabledouble-beddedroomhad been placed at our disposal, and I was quickly be- tween the sheets, for I was weary after my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, who, when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind,wouldgofordays,andevenforaweek,with- outrest,turningitover,rearranginghisfacts,looking at it from every point of view until he had either fathomeditorconvincedhimselfthathisdatawere insufficient. It was soon evident to me that he was now preparing for an all-night sitting. He took off hiscoatandwaistcoat,putonalargebluedressing- gown,andthenwanderedabouttheroomcollecting pillowsfromhisbedandcushionsfromthesofaand armchairs. WiththeseheconstructedasortofEastern divan,uponwhichheperchedhimselfcross-legged, withanounceofshagtobaccoandaboxofmatches laidoutinfrontofhim. InthedimlightofthelampI sawhimsittingthere,anoldbriarpipebetweenhis lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, silent, motionless,withthelightshininguponhisstrong-set aquilinefeatures. SohesatasIdroppedofftosleep, andsohesatwhenasuddenejaculationcausedme towakeup,andIfoundthesummersunshininginto theapartment. Thepipewasstillbetweenhislips,the smokestillcurledupward,andtheroomwasfullofa densetobaccohaze,butnothingremainedoftheheap ofshagwhichIhadseenuponthepreviousnight.</s>“Awake,Watson?”heasked.</s>“Yes.” “Gameforamorningdrive?” “Certainly.” “Then dress. No one is stirring yet, but I know wherethestable-boysleeps,andweshallsoonhave thetrapout.”Hechuckledtohimselfashespoke,his eyestwinkled,andheseemedadifferentmantothe sombrethinkerofthepreviousnight.</s>As I dressed I glanced at my watch. It was no wonder that no one was stirring. It was twenty-five minutespastfour. IhadhardlyfinishedwhenHolmes returned with the news that the boy was putting in thehorse.</s>“I want to test a little theory of mine,” said he, pulling on his boots. “I think, Watson, that you are nowstandinginthepresenceofoneofthemostab- solute fools in Europe. I deserve to be kicked from here to Charing Cross. But I think I have the key of theaffairnow.” “Andwhereisit?”Iasked,smiling.</s>“In the bathroom,” he answered. “Oh, yes, I am not joking,” he continued, seeing my look of in- credulity. “Ihavejustbeenthere,andIhavetakenit out,andIhavegotitinthisGladstonebag. Comeon, my boy, and we shall see whether it will not fit the lock.” We made our way downstairs as quietly as pos- sible, and out into the bright morning sunshine. In theroadstoodourhorseandtrap,withthehalf-clad stable-boy waiting at the head. We both sprang in, andawaywedasheddowntheLondonRoad. Afew country carts were stirring, bearing in vegetables to the metropolis, but the lines of villas on either side wereassilentandlifelessassomecityinadream.</s>“Ithasbeeninsomepointsasingularcase,”said Holmes,flickingthehorseonintoagallop. “Iconfess thatIhavebeenasblindasamole,butitisbetterto learnwisdomlatethannevertolearnitatall.” Intowntheearliestriserswerejustbeginningto looksleepilyfromtheirwindowsaswedrovethroughthestreetsoftheSurreyside. PassingdowntheWa- terloo Bridge Road we crossed over the river, and dashingupWellingtonStreetwheeledsharplytothe right and found ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well known to the force, and the two constablesatthedoorsalutedhim. Oneofthemheld thehorse’sheadwhiletheotherledusin.</s>“Whoisonduty?”askedHolmes.</s>“InspectorBradstreet,sir.” “Ah, Bradstreet, how are you?” A tall, stout offi- cial had come down the stone-flagged passage, in a peakedcapandfroggedjacket. “Iwishtohaveaquiet wordwithyou,Bradstreet.”“Certainly,Mr.Holmes.</s>Step into my room here.” It was a small, office-like room,withahugeledgeruponthetable,andatele- phone projecting from the wall. The inspector sat downathisdesk.</s>“WhatcanIdoforyou,Mr.Holmes?” “I called about that beggarman, Boone—the one whowaschargedwithbeingconcernedinthedisap- pearanceofMr.NevilleSt.Clair,ofLee.” “Yes. He was brought up and remanded for fur- therinquiries.” “SoIheard. Youhavehimhere?” “Inthecells.” “Ishequiet?” “Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel.” “Dirty?” “Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his face is as black as a tinker’s. Well, when once his case has been settled, he will have a regularprisonbath;andIthink,ifyousawhim,you wouldagreewithmethatheneededit.” “Ishouldliketoseehimverymuch.” “Wouldyou? Thatiseasilydone. Comethisway.</s>Youcanleaveyourbag.” “No,IthinkthatI’lltakeit.” “Very good. Come this way, if you please.” He ledusdownapassage,openedabarreddoor,passed down a winding stair, and brought us to a white- washedcorridorwithalineofdoorsoneachside.</s>“Thethirdontherightishis,”saidtheinspector.</s>“Hereitis!”Hequietlyshotbackapanelintheupper partofthedoorandglancedthrough.</s>“He is asleep,” said he. “You can see him very well.” We both put our eyes to the grating. The pris- oner lay with his face towards us, in a very deep sleep,breathingslowlyandheavily. Hewasamiddle- sizedman,coarselycladasbecamehiscalling,with a coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his tattered coat. He was, as the inspector had said, ex- tremely dirty, but the grime which covered his face could not conceal its repulsive ugliness. A broad whealfromanoldscarranrightacrossitfromeyeto chin, and by its contraction had turned up one side oftheupperlip,sothatthreeteethwereexposedina perpetualsnarl. Ashockofverybrightredhairgrew lowoverhiseyesandforehead.</s>“He’sabeauty,isn’the?”saidtheinspector.</s>“He certainly needs a wash,” remarked Holmes.</s>“Ihadanideathathemight,andItookthelibertyof bringingthetoolswithme.”HeopenedtheGladstone bagashespoke,andtookout,tomyastonishment,a verylargebath-sponge.</s>“He! he! You are a funny one,” chuckled the inspector.</s>“Now,ifyouwillhavethegreatgoodnesstoopen thatdoorveryquietly,wewillsoonmakehimcuta muchmorerespectablefigure.” “Well,Idon’tknowwhynot,”saidtheinspector.</s>“Hedoesn’tlookacredittotheBowStreetcells,does he?” He slipped his key into the lock, and we all veryquietlyenteredthecell. Thesleeperhalfturned, and then settled down once more into a deep slum- ber. Holmesstoopedtothewater-jug,moistenedhis sponge, and then rubbed it twice vigorously across anddowntheprisoner’sface.</s>“Let me introduce you,” he shouted, “to Mr.</s>NevilleSt.Clair,ofLee,inthecountyofKent.” Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man’sfacepeeledoffunderthespongelikethebark from a tree. Gone was the coarse brown tint! Gone, too,wasthehorridscarwhichhadseameditacross, and the twisted lip which had given the repulsive sneer to the face! A twitch brought away the tan- gled red hair, and there, sitting up in his bed, was apale,sad-faced,refined-lookingman,black-haired and smooth-skinned, rubbing his eyes and staring abouthimwithsleepybewilderment. Thensuddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a scream and threwhimselfdownwithhisfacetothepillow.</s>“Greatheavens!”criedtheinspector,“itis,indeed, themissingman. Iknowhimfromthephotograph.” Theprisonerturnedwiththerecklessairofaman whoabandonshimselftohisdestiny. “Beitso,”said he. “AndpraywhatamIchargedwith?”“With making away with Mr. Neville St.—Oh, come, you can’t be charged with that unless they make a case of attempted suicide of it,” said the in- spectorwithagrin. “Well,Ihavebeentwenty-seven yearsintheforce,butthisreallytakesthecake.” “If I am Mr. Neville St. Clair, then it is obvious thatnocrimehasbeencommitted,andthat,therefore, Iamillegallydetained.” “No crime, but a very great error has been com- mitted,”saidHolmes. “Youwouldhavedonebetter tohavetrustedyourwife.” “Itwasnotthewife;itwasthechildren,”groaned the prisoner. “God help me, I would not have them ashamedoftheirfather. MyGod! Whatanexposure! WhatcanIdo?” Sherlock Holmes sat down beside him on the couchandpattedhimkindlyontheshoulder.</s>“Ifyouleaveittoacourtoflawtoclearthematter up,” said he, “of course you can hardly avoid pub- licity. On the other hand, if you convince the police authoritiesthatthereisnopossiblecaseagainstyou, Idonotknowthatthereisanyreasonthatthedetails shouldfindtheirwayintothepapers. InspectorBrad- street would, I am sure, make notes upon anything whichyou mighttellus andsubmit itto theproper authorities. Thecasewouldthennevergointocourt atall.” “Godblessyou!”criedtheprisonerpassionately.</s>“I would have endured imprisonment, ay, even exe- cution,ratherthanhaveleftmymiserablesecretasa familyblottomychildren.</s>“You are the first who have ever heard my story.</s>MyfatherwasaschoolmasterinChesterfield,where I received an excellent education. I travelled in my youth,tooktothestage,andfinallybecameareporter on an evening paper in London. One day my edi- tor wished to have a series of articles upon begging inthemetropolis,andIvolunteeredtosupplythem.</s>There was the point from which all my adventures started. Itwasonlybytryingbeggingasanamateur thatIcouldgetthefactsuponwhichtobasemyarti- cles. When an actor I had, of course, learned all the secrets of making up, and had been famous in the green-roomformyskill. Itookadvantagenowofmy attainments. Ipaintedmyface,andtomakemyselfas pitiableaspossibleImadeagoodscarandfixedone sideofmylipinatwistbytheaidofasmallslipof flesh-colouredplaster. Thenwitharedheadofhair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the businesspartofthecity,ostensiblyasamatch-seller but really as a beggar. For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I returned home in the evening I foundtomysurprisethatIhadreceivednolessthan 26s.4d.</s>“I wrote my articles and thought little more of thematteruntil,sometimelater,Ibackedabillfora friendandhadawritserveduponmefor£25. Iwas atmywit’sendwheretogetthemoney,butasudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight’s grace from thecreditor,askedforaholidayfrommyemployers, andspentthetimeinbeggingintheCityundermy disguise. IntendaysIhadthemoneyandhadpaid thedebt.</s>“Well,youcanimaginehowharditwastosettle downtoarduousworkat£2aweekwhenIknewthat I could earn as much in a day by smearing my face withalittlepaint,layingmycapontheground,and sittingstill. Itwasalongfightbetweenmyprideand themoney,butthedollarswonatlast,andIthrewup reporting and sat day after day in the corner which Ihadfirstchosen,inspiringpitybymyghastlyface andfillingmypocketswithcoppers. Onlyoneman knew my secret. He was the keeper of a low den inwhichIusedtolodgeinSwandamLane,whereI couldeverymorningemergeasasqualidbeggarand intheeveningstransformmyselfintoawell-dressed manabouttown. Thisfellow,aLascar,waswellpaid by me for his rooms, so that I knew that my secret wassafeinhispossession.</s>“Well, very soon I found that I was saving con- siderable sums of money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London could earn £700 a year—which is less than my average takings—but I hadexceptionaladvantagesinmypowerofmaking up,andalsoinafacilityofrepartee,whichimproved bypracticeandmademequitearecognisedcharacter in the City. All day a stream of pennies, varied by silver,pouredinuponme,anditwasaverybadday inwhichIfailedtotake£2.</s>“AsIgrewricherIgrewmoreambitious, tooka houseinthecountry,andeventuallymarried,without anyonehavingasuspicionastomyrealoccupation.</s>My dear wife knew that I had business in the City.</s>Shelittleknewwhat.</s>“LastMondayIhadfinishedforthedayandwas dressing in my room above the opium den when I lookedoutofmywindowandsaw,tomyhorrorand astonishment,thatmywifewasstandinginthestreet, with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of surprise, threw up my arms to cover my face, and, rushing to my confidant, the Lascar, entreated him to prevent anyone from coming up to me. I heardher voice downstairs, but I knew that she could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off my clothes, pulled on thoseofabeggar,andputonmypigmentsandwig.</s>Even a wife’s eyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. Butthenitoccurredtomethattheremight be a search in the room, and that the clothes might betray me. I threw open the window, reopening by my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself in the bedroom that morning. Then I seized mycoat,whichwasweightedbythecopperswhichI hadjusttransferredtoitfromtheleatherbaginwhich I carried my takings. I hurled it out of the window, anditdisappearedintotheThames. Theotherclothes wouldhavefollowed,butatthatmomenttherewas arushofconstablesupthestair, andafewminutes after I found, rather, I confess, to my relief, that in- steadofbeingidentifiedasMr.NevilleSt.Clair,Iwas arrestedashismurderer.</s>“Idonotknowthatthereisanythingelseforme toexplain. Iwasdeterminedtopreservemydisguise as long as possible, and hence my preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife would be terribly anxious,Islippedoffmyringandconfidedittothe Lascaratamomentwhennoconstablewaswatching me, together with a hurried scrawl, telling her that shehadnocausetofear.” “That note only reached her yesterday,” said Holmes.</s>“GoodGod! Whataweekshemusthavespent!” “The police have watched this Lascar,” said In- spectorBradstreet,“andIcanquiteunderstandthat hemightfinditdifficulttopostaletterunobserved.</s>Probablyhehandedittosomesailorcustomerofhis, whoforgotallaboutitforsomedays.” “Thatwasit,”saidHolmes,noddingapprovingly; “Ihavenodoubtofit. Buthaveyouneverbeenprose- cutedforbegging?” “Manytimes;butwhatwasafinetome?” “Itmuststophere,however,”saidBradstreet. “If thepolicearetohushthisthingup,theremustbeno moreofHughBoone.” “Ihaveswornitbythemostsolemnoathswhich amancantake.” “InthatcaseIthinkthatitisprobablethatnofur- therstepsmaybetaken. Butifyouarefoundagain, thenallmustcomeout. Iamsure,Mr.Holmes,that weareverymuchindebtedtoyouforhavingcleared the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach your results.” “I reached this one,” said my friend, “by sitting upon five pillows and consuming an ounce of shag.</s>I think, Watson, that if we drive to Baker Street we shalljustbeintimeforbreakfast.”had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing I himthecomplimentsoftheseason. Hewas 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,nearathand. Besidethecouchwasawooden chair,andontheangleofthebackhungaveryseedy 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 thepurposeofexamination.</s>“You are engaged,” said I; “perhaps I interrupt you.” “Notatall. Iamgladtohaveafriendwithwhom I can discuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivialone”—hejerkedhisthumbinthedirectionof theoldhat—“buttherearepointsinconnectionwith itwhicharenotentirelydevoidofinterestandeven ofinstruction.” I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my handsbeforehiscracklingfire,forasharpfrosthad setin,andthewindowswerethickwiththeicecrys- tals. “I suppose,” I remarked, “that, homely as it looks,thisthinghassomedeadlystorylinkedonto it—thatitisthecluewhichwillguideyouintheso- lutionofsomemysteryandthepunishmentofsome crime.” “No,no. Nocrime,”saidSherlockHolmes,laugh- ing. “Only one of those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four million hu- manbeingsalljostlingeachotherwithinthespaceof afewsquaremiles. Amidtheactionandreactionof sodenseaswarmofhumanity,everypossiblecombi- nationofeventsmaybeexpectedtotakeplace, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre without being criminal. We havealreadyhadexperienceofsuch.” “So much so,” I remarked, “that of the last six cases which I have added to my notes, three have beenentirelyfreeofanylegalcrime.” “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 smallmatterwillfallintothesameinnocentcategory.</s>YouknowPeterson,thecommissionaire?” “Yes.” “Itistohimthatthistrophybelongs.” “Itishishat.” “No,no,hefoundit. Itsownerisunknown. Ibeg thatyouwilllookuponitnotasabatteredbillycock butasanintellectualproblem. And,first,astohow itcamehere. ItarriveduponChristmasmorning,in companywithagoodfatgoose,whichis,Ihaveno doubt,roastingatthismomentinfrontofPeterson’s fire. Thefactsarethese: aboutfouro’clockonChrist- masmorning,Peterson,who,asyouknow,isavery honest fellow, was returning from some small jolli- fication and was making his way homeward down TottenhamCourtRoad. Infrontofhimhesaw,inthe gaslight,atallishman,walkingwithaslightstagger, and carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder.</s>As he reached the corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out between this stranger and a little knot of roughs. Oneofthelatterknockedofftheman’shat, on which he raised his stick to defend himself and, swinging it over his head, smashed the shop win- dow behind him. Peterson had rushed forward to protectthestrangerfromhisassailants;buttheman, shockedathavingbrokenthewindow,andseeingan official-looking person in uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels, and van- ishedamidthelabyrinthofsmallstreetswhichlieat thebackofTottenhamCourtRoad. Theroughshad alsofledattheappearanceofPeterson,sothathewas leftinpossessionofthefieldofbattle,andalsoofthe spoilsofvictoryintheshapeofthisbatteredhatand amostunimpeachableChristmasgoose.” “Whichsurelyherestoredtotheirowner?” “Mydearfellow,thereliestheproblem. Itistrue that‘ForMrs.HenryBaker’wasprinteduponasmall cardwhichwastiedtothebird’sleftleg,anditisalso truethattheinitials‘H.B.’arelegibleuponthelining ofthishat,butastherearesomethousandsofBakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours,itisnoteasytorestorelostpropertytoanyone ofthem.” “What,then,didPetersondo?” “Hebroughtroundbothhatandgoosetomeon Christmasmorning,knowingthateventhesmallest problemsareofinteresttome. Thegooseweretained until this morning, when there were signs that, in spiteoftheslightfrost,itwouldbewellthatitshould be eaten without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carrieditoff,therefore,tofulfiltheultimatedestiny of a goose, while I continue to retain the hat of the unknowngentlemanwholosthisChristmasdinner.” “Didhenotadvertise?” “No.”“Then, what clue could you have as to his iden- tity?” “Onlyasmuchaswecandeduce.” “Fromhishat?” “Precisely.” “But you are joking. What can you gather from thisoldbatteredfelt?” “Hereismylens. Youknowmymethods. What canyougatheryourselfastotheindividualityofthe manwhohaswornthisarticle?” Itookthetatteredobjectinmyhandsandturned 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 wasagooddealdiscoloured. Therewasnomaker’s name;but,asHolmeshadremarked,theinitials“H.</s>B.” were scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic was miss- ing. For the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty, andspottedinseveralplaces,althoughthereseemed to have been some attempt to hide the discoloured patchesbysmearingthemwithink.</s>“Icanseenothing,”saidI,handingitbacktomy friend.</s>“Onthecontrary,Watson,youcanseeeverything.</s>Youfail,however,toreasonfromwhatyousee. You aretootimidindrawingyourinferences.” “Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer fromthishat?” He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspectivefashionwhichwascharacteristicofhim.</s>“Itisperhapslesssuggestivethanitmighthavebeen,” he remarked, “and yet there are a few inferences whichareverydistinct,andafewotherswhichrep- resent at least a strong balance of probability. That themanwashighlyintellectualisofcourseobvious uponthefaceofit,andalsothathewasfairlywell-to- do within the last three years, although he has now fallenuponevildays. Hehadforesight,buthasless nowthanformerly,pointingtoamoralretrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes, seemstoindicatesomeevilinfluence,probablydrink, at work upon him. This may account also for the obviousfactthathiswifehasceasedtolovehim.” “MydearHolmes!” “He has, however, retained some degree of self- respect,” he continued, disregarding my remon- strance. “He is a man who leads a sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is middle- aged,hasgrizzledhairwhichhehashadcutwithin the last few days, and which he anoints with lime- cream. Thesearethemorepatentfactswhichareto bededucedfromhishat. Also,bytheway,thatitis extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his house.” “Youarecertainlyjoking,Holmes.” “Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, whenIgiveyoutheseresults,youareunabletosee howtheyareattained?” “IhavenodoubtthatIamverystupid,butImust confessthatIamunabletofollowyou. Forexample, howdidyoudeducethatthismanwasintellectual?” ForanswerHolmesclappedthehatuponhishead.</s>Itcamerightovertheforeheadandsettleduponthe bridge of his nose. “It is a question of cubic capac- ity,”saidhe;“amanwithsolargeabrainmusthave somethinginit.” “Thedeclineofhisfortunes,then?” “Thishatisthreeyearsold. Theseflatbrimscurled at the edge came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of ribbed silk and the ex- cellent lining. If this man could afford to buy so expensiveahatthreeyearsago,andhashadnohat since,thenhehasassuredlygonedownintheworld.” “Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how abouttheforesightandthemoralretrogression?” SherlockHolmeslaughed. “Hereistheforesight,” saidheputtinghisfingeruponthelittlediscandloop ofthehat-securer. “Theyareneversolduponhats. If thismanorderedone,itisasignofacertainamount offoresight,sincehewentoutofhiswaytotakethis precautionagainstthewind. Butsinceweseethathe hasbrokentheelasticandhasnottroubledtoreplace 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 concealsomeofthesestainsuponthefeltbydaubing themwithink,whichisasignthathehasnotentirely losthisself-respect.” “Yourreasoningiscertainlyplausible.” “The further points, that he is middle-aged, that hishairisgrizzled,thatithasbeenrecentlycut,and thatheuseslime-cream,arealltobegatheredfroma closeexaminationofthelowerpartofthelining. The lensdisclosesalargenumberofhair-ends,cleancut by the scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive,andthereisadistinctodouroflime-cream.</s>Thisdust,youwillobserve,isnotthegritty,greydust of the street but the fluffy brown dust of the house, showingthatithasbeenhungupindoorsmostofthe time,whilethemarksofmoistureupontheinsideareproof positive that the wearer perspired very freely, andcouldtherefore,hardlybeinthebestoftraining.” “But his wife—you said that she had ceased to lovehim.” “Thishathasnotbeenbrushedforweeks. WhenI seeyou,mydearWatson,withaweek’saccumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you alsohavebeenunfortunateenoughtoloseyourwife’s affection.” “Buthemightbeabachelor.” “Nay,hewasbringinghomethegooseasapeace- offering to his wife. Remember the card upon the bird’sleg.” “You have an answer to everything. But how on earthdoyoudeducethatthegasisnotlaidoninhis house?” “One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance;butwhenIseenolessthanfive,Ithinkthat there can be little doubt that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning tal- low—walksupstairsatnightprobablywithhishatin one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Any- how, he never got tallow-stains from a gas-jet. Are yousatisfied?” “Well,itisveryingenious,”saidI,laughing;“but since, asyousaid justnow, there hasbeenno crime committed,andnoharmdonesavethelossofagoose, allthisseemstoberatherawasteofenergy.” SherlockHolmeshadopenedhismouthtoreply, when the door flew open, and Peterson, the com- missionaire,rushedintotheapartmentwithflushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed with as- tonishment.</s>“The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir!” he gasped.</s>“Eh? Whatofit,then? Hasitreturnedtolifeand flapped off through the kitchen window?” Holmes twisted himself round upon the sofa to get a fairer viewoftheman’sexcitedface.</s>“Seehere,sir! Seewhatmywifefoundinitscrop!” Heheldouthishandanddisplayeduponthecentre ofthepalmabrilliantlyscintillatingbluestone,rather smaller than a bean in size, but of such purity and radiancethatittwinkledlikeanelectricpointinthe darkhollowofhishand.</s>SherlockHolmessatupwithawhistle. “ByJove, Peterson!” said he, “this is treasure trove indeed. I supposeyouknowwhatyouhavegot?” “A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glassasthoughitwereputty.” “It’smorethanapreciousstone. Itistheprecious stone.” “NottheCountessofMorcar’sbluecarbuncle!”I ejaculated.</s>“Preciselyso. Ioughttoknowitssizeandshape, seeingthatIhavereadtheadvertisementaboutitin The Times every day lately. It is absolutely unique, anditsvaluecanonlybeconjectured,butthereward offered of £1000 is certainly not within a twentieth partofthemarketprice.” “A thousand pounds! Great Lord of mercy!” Thecommissionaireplumpeddownintoachairand staredfromonetotheotherofus.</s>“That is the reward, and I have reason to know thattherearesentimentalconsiderationsintheback- groundwhichwouldinducetheCountesstopartwith halfherfortuneifshecouldbutrecoverthegem.” “It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan,”Iremarked.</s>“Precisely so, on December 22nd, just five days ago. John Horner, a plumber, was accused of hav- ing abstracted it from the lady’s jewel-case. The ev- idence 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 hisnewspapers,glancingoverthedates,untilatlast he smoothed one out, doubled it over, and read the followingparagraph: “Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, 26, plumber, was brought up upon the charge of having upon the 22nd inst. ab- stractedfromthejewel-caseoftheCountessof Morcar the valuable gem known as the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, upper-attendant at the hotel, gave his evidence to the effect that hehadshownHorneruptothedressing-room oftheCountessofMorcaruponthedayofthe robbery in order that he might solder the sec- ond bar of the grate, which was loose. He had remained with Horner some little time, but had finally been called away. On return- ing, 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 ac- customed to keep her jewel, was lying empty uponthedressing-table. Ryderinstantlygave the alarm, and Horner was arrested the sameevening; but the stone could not be found ei- theruponhispersonorinhisrooms. Cather- ine Cusack, maid to the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder’s cry of dismay on dis- covering the robbery, and to having rushed intotheroom,whereshefoundmattersasde- scribed by the last witness. Inspector Brad- street, B division, gave evidence as to the ar- restofHorner,whostruggledfrantically,and protestedhisinnocenceinthestrongestterms.</s>Evidence of a previous conviction for robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistraterefusedtodealsummarilywiththe offence,butreferredittotheAssizes. Horner, whohadshownsignsofintenseemotiondur- ing the proceedings, fainted away at the con- clusionandwascarriedoutofcourt.” “Hum! So much for the police-court,” said Holmes thoughtfully,tossingasidethepaper. “Thequestion forusnowtosolveisthesequenceofeventsleading 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 littledeductions have suddenlyas- sumed a much more important and less innocent aspect. Here is the stone; the stone came from the goose,andthegoosecamefromMr.HenryBaker,the gentleman with the bad hat and all the other char- acteristicswithwhichIhaveboredyou. Sonowwe mustsetourselvesveryseriouslytofindingthisgen- tleman and ascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. To do this, we must try the sim- plest means first, and these lie undoubtedly in an advertisementinalltheeveningpapers. Ifthisfail,I shallhaverecoursetoothermethods.” “Whatwillyousay?” “Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: ‘FoundatthecornerofGoodgeStreet,agoose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry Baker can have the samebyapplyingat6.30thiseveningat221b,Baker Street.’ Thatisclearandconcise.” “Very. Butwillheseeit?” “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 thewindowandbytheapproachofPetersonthathe thoughtofnothingbutflight,butsincethenhemust havebitterlyregrettedtheimpulsewhichcausedhim 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,rundowntotheadvertisingagencyand havethisputintheeveningpapers.” “Inwhich,sir?” “Oh, in the Globe, Star, Pall Mall, St. James’s, EveningNews,Standard,Echo,andanyothersthatoc- curtoyou.” “Verywell,sir. Andthisstone?” “Ah,yes,Ishallkeepthestone. Thankyou. And, I say, Peterson, just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here with me, for we must have one to givetothisgentlemaninplaceoftheonewhichyour familyisnowdevouring.” Whenthecommissionairehadgone,Holmestook up the stone and held it against the light. “It’s a bonny thing,” said he. “Just see how it glints and sparkles. Ofcourseitisanucleusandfocusofcrime.</s>Every good stone is. They are the devil’s pet baits.</s>Inthelargerandolderjewelseveryfacetmaystand forabloodydeed. Thisstoneisnotyettwentyyears old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River insouthernChinaandisremarkableinhavingevery characteristicofthecarbuncle,savethatitisbluein shade instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has already a sinister history. There have been two murders,avitriol-throwing,asuicide,andseveralrob- beries brought about for the sake of this forty-grain weightofcrystallisedcharcoal. Whowouldthinkthat so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows andtheprison? I’lllockitupinmystrongboxnow and drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it.” “DoyouthinkthatthismanHornerisinnocent?” “Icannottell.” “Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, HenryBaker,hadanythingtodowiththematter?” “Itis,Ithink,muchmorelikelythatHenryBaker isanabsolutelyinnocentman,whohadnoideathat thebirdwhichhewascarryingwasofconsiderably morevaluethanifitweremadeofsolidgold. That, however,Ishalldeterminebyaverysimpletestifwe haveananswertoouradvertisement.” “Andyoucandonothinguntilthen?” “Nothing.” “In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall come back in the evening at the houryouhavementioned,forIshouldliketoseethe solutionofsotangledabusiness.” “Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is awoodcock,Ibelieve. Bytheway,inviewofrecent occurrences,perhapsIoughttoaskMrs.Hudsonto examineitscrop.”I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little afterhalf-pastsixwhenIfoundmyselfinBakerStreet once more. As I approached the house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a coat which was but- toned up to his chin waiting outside in the bright semicirclewhichwasthrownfromthefanlight. Just asIarrivedthedoorwasopened,andwewereshown uptogethertoHolmes’room.</s>“Mr.HenryBaker,Ibelieve,”saidhe,risingfrom his armchair and greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he could so readily assume.</s>“Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. Baker. It is a coldnight,andIobservethatyourcirculationismore adaptedforsummerthanforwinter. Ah,Watson,you havejustcomeattherighttime. Isthatyourhat,Mr.</s>Baker?” “Yes,sir,thatisundoubtedlymyhat.” He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a broad, intelligent face, sloping downtoapointedbeardofgrizzledbrown. Atouch 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 lankwristsprotrudedfromhissleeveswithoutasign ofcufforshirt. Hespokeinaslowstaccatofashion, choosing his words with care, and gave the impres- sion generally of a man of learning and letters who hadhadill-usageatthehandsoffortune.</s>“We have retained these things for some days,” saidHolmes,“becauseweexpectedtoseeanadver- tisementfromyougivingyouraddress. Iamataloss toknownowwhyyoudidnotadvertise.” Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh.</s>“Shillingshavenotbeensoplentifulwithmeasthey once were,” he remarked. “I had no doubt that the gangofroughswhoassaultedmehadcarriedoffboth my hat and the bird. I did not care to spend more moneyinahopelessattemptatrecoveringthem.” “Very naturally. By the way, about the bird, we werecompelledtoeatit.” “Toeatit!”Ourvisitorhalfrosefromhischairin hisexcitement.</s>“Yes,itwouldhavebeenofnousetoanyonehad wenotdoneso. ButIpresumethatthisothergoose uponthesideboard,whichisaboutthesameweight andperfectlyfresh,willansweryourpurposeequally well?” “Oh,certainly,certainly,”answeredMr.Bakerwith asighofrelief.</s>“Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, andsoonofyourownbird,soifyouwish—” Themanburstintoaheartylaugh. “Theymight be useful to me as relics of my adventure,” said he, “butbeyondthatIcanhardlyseewhatusethedisjecta membra of my late acquaintance are going to be to me. No,sir,Ithinkthat,withyourpermission,Iwill confine my attentions to the excellent bird which I perceiveuponthesideboard.” Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me withaslightshrugofhisshoulders.</s>“Thereisyourhat,then,andthereyourbird,”said he. “Bytheway,woulditboreyoutotellmewhere yougottheotheronefrom? Iamsomewhatofafowl fancier,andIhaveseldomseenabettergrowngoose.” “Certainly, sir,” said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly gained property under his arm.</s>“There are a few of us who frequent the Alpha Inn, near the Museum—we are to be found in the Mu- seum itself during the day, you understand. This yearourgoodhost,Windigatebyname,instituteda gooseclub,bywhich,onconsiderationofsomefew penceeveryweek,wewereeachtoreceiveabirdat Christmas. My pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, foraScotchbonnetisfittedneithertomyyearsnor mygravity.”Withacomicalpomposityofmannerhe bowedsolemnlytobothofusandstrodeoffuponhis way.</s>“So much for Mr. Henry Baker,” said Holmes whenhehadclosedthedoorbehindhim. “Itisquite certain that he knows nothing whatever about the matter. Areyouhungry,Watson?” “Notparticularly.” “Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supperandfollowupthiscluewhileitisstillhot.” “Byallmeans.” Itwasabitternight,sowedrewonourulstersand wrappedcravatsaboutourthroats. Outside,thestars wereshiningcoldlyinacloudlesssky,andthebreath of the passers-by blew out into smoke like so many pistolshots. Ourfootfallsrangoutcrisplyandloudly asweswungthroughthedoctors’quarter,Wimpole Street,HarleyStreet,andsothroughWigmoreStreet into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn, which is a small public-houseatthecornerofoneofthestreetswhich runs down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar and ordered two glasses of beerfromtheruddy-faced,white-apronedlandlord.</s>“Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as yourgeese,”saidhe.“Mygeese!”Themanseemedsurprised.</s>“Yes. IwasspeakingonlyhalfanhouragotoMr.</s>HenryBaker,whowasamemberofyourgooseclub.” “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 CoventGarden.” “Indeed? Iknowsomeofthem. Whichwasit?” “Breckinridgeishisname.” “Ah! I don’t know him. Well, here’s your good healthlandlord,andprosperitytoyourhouse. Good- night.” “Now for Mr. Breckinridge,” he continued, but- toninguphiscoataswecameoutintothefrostyair.</s>“Remember,Watsonthatthoughwehavesohomely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have attheotheramanwhowillcertainlygetsevenyears’ penalservitudeunlesswecanestablishhisinnocence.</s>It is possible that our inquiry may but confirm his guilt;but,inanycase,wehavealineofinvestigation whichhasbeenmissedbythepolice,andwhichasin- gularchancehasplacedinourhands. Letusfollow itouttothebitterend. Facestothesouth,then,and quickmarch!” We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a zigzag of slums to Covent Gar- den Market. One of the largest stalls bore the name ofBreckinridgeuponit,andtheproprietorahorsey- lookingman,withasharpfaceandtrimside-whiskers washelpingaboytoputuptheshutters.</s>“Good-evening. It’sacoldnight,”saidHolmes.</s>The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glanceatmycompanion.</s>“Sold out of geese, I see,” continued Holmes, pointingatthebareslabsofmarble.</s>“Letyouhavefivehundredto-morrowmorning.” “That’snogood.” “Well, there are some on the stall with the gas- flare.” “Ah,butIwasrecommendedtoyou.” “Whoby?” “ThelandlordoftheAlpha.” “Oh,yes;Isenthimacoupleofdozen.” “Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you getthemfrom?” Tomysurprisethequestionprovokedaburstof angerfromthesalesman.</s>“Now,then,mister,”saidhe,withhisheadcocked andhisarmsakimbo,“whatareyoudrivingat? Let’s haveitstraight,now.” “Itisstraightenough. Ishouldliketoknowwho soldyouthegeesewhichyousuppliedtotheAlpha.” “Wellthen,Ishan’ttellyou. Sonow!” “Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I don’t knowwhyyoushouldbesowarmoversuchatrifle.” “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?’ Onewouldthinktheyweretheonlygeesein theworld,tohearthefussthatismadeoverthem.” “Well,Ihavenoconnectionwithanyotherpeople whohavebeenmakinginquiries,”saidHolmescare- lessly. “If you won’t tell us the bet is off, that is all.</s>ButI’malwaysreadytobackmyopiniononamatter offowls,andIhaveafiveronitthatthebirdIateis countrybred.” “Well, then, you’ve lost your fiver, for it’s town bred,”snappedthesalesman.</s>“It’snothingofthekind.” “Isayitis.” “Idon’tbelieveit.” “D’youthinkyouknowmoreaboutfowlsthanI, whohavehandledthemeversinceIwasanipper? I tellyou,allthosebirdsthatwenttotheAlphawere townbred.” “You’llneverpersuademetobelievethat.” “Willyoubet,then?” “It’smerelytakingyourmoney,forIknowthatI amright. ButI’llhaveasovereignonwithyou, just toteachyounottobeobstinate.” The salesman chuckled grimly. “Bring me the books,Bill,”saidhe.</s>The small boy brought round a small thin vol- umeandagreatgreasy-backedone,layingthemout togetherbeneaththehanginglamp.</s>“Nowthen,Mr.Cocksure,”saidthesalesman,“I thought that I was out of geese, but before I finish you’llfindthatthereisstilloneleftinmyshop. You seethislittlebook?” “Well?” “That’sthelistofthefolkfromwhomIbuy. D’you see? Well,then,hereonthispagearethecountryfolk, and the numbers after their names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. Now, then! You seethis other page in red ink? Well, that is a list of my town suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just readitouttome.” “Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road—249,” read Holmes.</s>“Quiteso. Nowturnthatupintheledger.” Holmesturnedtothepageindicated. “Hereyou are,‘Mrs.Oakshott,117,BrixtonRoad,eggandpoul- trysupplier.’” “Now,then,what’sthelastentry?” “‘December22nd. Twenty-fourgeeseat7s.6d.’” “Quiteso. Thereyouare. Andunderneath?” “‘SoldtoMr.WindigateoftheAlpha,at12s.’” “Whathaveyoutosaynow?” Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drewasovereignfromhispocketandthrewitdown upon the slab, turning away with the air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards offhestoppedunderalamp-postandlaughedinthe hearty,noiselessfashionwhichwaspeculiartohim.</s>“When you see a man with whiskers of that cut andthe‘Pink’un’protrudingoutofhispocket,you can always draw him by a bet,” said he. “I daresay thatifIhadput£100downinfrontofhim,thatman wouldnothavegivenmesuchcompleteinformation aswasdrawnfromhimbytheideathathewasdoing meonawager. Well,Watson,weare,Ifancy,nearing the end of our quest, and the only point which re- mainstobedeterminediswhetherweshouldgoonto thisMrs.Oakshottto-night,orwhetherweshouldre- serveitforto-morrow. Itisclearfromwhatthatsurly fellow said that there are others besides ourselves whoareanxiousaboutthematter,andIshould—” His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbubwhichbrokeoutfromthestallwhichwehad just left. Turning round we saw a little rat-faced fel- lowstandinginthecentreofthecircleofyellowlight whichwasthrownbytheswinginglamp,whileBreck- inridge,thesalesman,framedinthedoorofhisstall, wasshakinghisfistsfiercelyatthecringingfigure.</s>“I’ve had enough of you and your geese,” he shouted. “Iwishyouwereallatthedeviltogether. If youcomepesteringmeanymorewithyoursillytalk I’llsetthedogatyou. YoubringMrs.Oakshotthere andI’llanswerher,butwhathaveyoutodowithit? DidIbuythegeeseoffyou?” “No; but one of them was mine all the same,” whinedthelittleman.</s>“Well,then,askMrs.Oakshottforit.” “Shetoldmetoaskyou.” “Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I’ve had enough of it. Get out of this!” He rushedfiercelyforward,andtheinquirerflittedaway intothedarkness.</s>“Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road,” whisperedHolmes. “Comewithme,andwewillsee whatistobemadeofthisfellow.”Stridingthrough thescatteredknotsofpeoplewholoungedroundthe 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 everyvestigeofcolourhadbeendrivenfromhisface.</s>“Who are you, then? What do you want?” he askedinaquaveringvoice.</s>“Youwillexcuseme,”saidHolmesblandly,“butI couldnothelpoverhearingthequestionswhichyou puttothesalesmanjustnow. IthinkthatIcouldbe ofassistancetoyou.” “You? Who are you? How could you know any- thingofthematter?” “MynameisSherlockHolmes. Itismybusiness toknowwhatotherpeopledon’tknow.” “Butyoucanknownothingofthis?” “Excuseme,Iknoweverythingofit. Youareen- deavouring to trace some geese which were sold by Mrs.Oakshott,ofBrixtonRoad,toasalesmannamed Breckinridge,byhiminturntoMr.Windigate,ofthe Alpha, and by him to his club, of which Mr. Henry Bakerisamember.” “Oh,sir,youaretheverymanwhomIhavelonged to meet,” cried the little fellow with outstretched handsandquiveringfingers. “Icanhardlyexplainto youhowinterestedIaminthismatter.” SherlockHolmeshailedafour-wheelerwhichwas passing. “Inthatcasewehadbetterdiscussitinacosy room rather than in this wind-swept market-place,” saidhe. “Butpraytellme,beforewegofarther,who itisthatIhavethepleasureofassisting.” The man hesitated for an instant. “My name is JohnRobinson,”heansweredwithasidelongglance.</s>“No,no;therealname,”saidHolmessweetly. “It isalwaysawkwarddoingbusinesswithanalias.” Aflushsprangtothewhitecheeksofthestranger.</s>“Wellthen,”saidhe,“myrealnameisJamesRyder.” “Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cos- mopolitan. Praystepintothecab,andIshallsoonbe abletotellyoueverythingwhichyouwouldwishto know.” Thelittlemanstoodglancingfromonetotheother ofuswithhalf-frightened,half-hopefuleyes,asonewhoisnotsurewhetherheisonthevergeofawind- fall or of a catastrophe. Then he stepped into the cab,andinhalfanhourwewerebackinthesitting- roomatBakerStreet. Nothinghadbeensaidduring our drive, but the high, thin breathing of our new companion,andtheclaspingsandunclaspingsofhis hands,spokeofthenervoustensionwithinhim.</s>“Here we are!” said Holmes cheerily as we filed intotheroom. “Thefirelooksveryseasonableinthis weather. You look cold, Mr. Ryder. Pray take the basket-chair. Iwilljustputonmyslippersbeforewe settlethislittlematterofyours. Now,then! Youwant toknowwhatbecameofthosegeese?” “Yes,sir.” “Orrather,Ifancy,ofthatgoose. Itwasonebird, Iimagineinwhichyouwereinterested—white,with ablackbaracrossthetail.” Ryderquiveredwithemotion. “Oh,sir,”hecried, “canyoutellmewhereitwentto?” “Itcamehere.” “Here?” “Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don’twonderthatyoushouldtakeaninterestinit. It laidaneggafteritwasdead—thebonniest,brightest littleblueeggthateverwasseen. Ihaveithereinmy museum.” Ourvisitorstaggeredtohisfeetandclutchedthe mantelpiece with his right hand. Holmes unlocked hisstrong-boxandheldupthebluecarbuncle,which shone out like a star, with a cold, brilliant, many- pointedradiance. Ryderstoodglaringwithadrawn face,uncertainwhethertoclaimortodisownit.</s>“The game’s up, Ryder,” said Holmes quietly.</s>“Holdup,man,oryou’llbeintothefire! Givehiman armbackinto hischair, Watson. He’s notgot blood enoughtogoinforfelonywithimpunity. Givehim a dash of brandy. So! Now he looks a little more human. Whatashrimpitis,tobesure!” Foramomenthehadstaggeredandnearlyfallen, but the brandy brought a tinge of colour into his cheeks,andhesatstaringwithfrightenedeyesathis accuser.</s>“Ihavealmosteverylinkinmyhands,andallthe proofswhichIcouldpossiblyneed,sothereislittle 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?” “ItwasCatherineCusackwhotoldmeofit,”said heinacracklingvoice.</s>“I see—her ladyship’s waiting-maid. Well, the temptationofsuddenwealthsoeasilyacquiredwas too much for you, as it has been for better men be- fore 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 concernedinsomesuchmatterbefore,andthatsuspi- cionwouldrestthemorereadilyuponhim. Whatdid youdo,then? Youmadesomesmalljobinmylady’s room—youandyourconfederateCusack—andyou managed that he should be the man sent for. Then, whenhehadleft,yourifledthejewel-case,raisedthe alarm, and had this unfortunate man arrested. You then—” Ryderthrewhimselfdownsuddenlyupontherug and clutched at my companion’s knees. “For God’s sake,havemercy!”heshrieked. “Thinkofmyfather! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. I never wentwrongbefore! Ineverwillagain. Iswearit. I’ll swearitonaBible. Oh,don’tbringitintocourt! For Christ’ssake,don’t!” “Get back into your chair!” said Holmes sternly.</s>“It is very well to cringe and crawl now, but you thoughtlittleenoughofthispoorHornerinthedock foracrimeofwhichheknewnothing.” “Iwillfly,Mr.Holmes. Iwillleavethecountry,sir.</s>Thenthechargeagainsthimwillbreakdown.” “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 theopenmarket? Tellusthetruth,forthereliesyour onlyhopeofsafety.” Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips.</s>“I will tell you it just as it happened, sir,” said he.</s>“When Horner had been arrested, it seemed to me that it would be best for me to get away with the stoneatonce,forIdidnotknowatwhatmomentthe policemightnottakeitintotheirheadstosearchme and my room. There was no place about the hotel whereitwouldbesafe. Iwentout,asifonsomecom- mission, and I made for my sister’s house. She had marriedamannamedOakshott,andlivedinBrixton Road, where she fattened fowls for the market. All thewaythereeverymanImetseemedtometobea policemanoradetective;and,forallthatitwasacold night,thesweatwaspouringdownmyfacebeforeI cametotheBrixtonRoad. Mysisteraskedmewhat wasthematter,andwhyIwassopale;butItoldher thatIhadbeenupsetbythejewelrobberyatthehotel.</s>Then I went into the back yard and smoked a pipe andwonderedwhatitwouldbebesttodo.“I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went tothebad,andhasjustbeenservinghistimeinPen- tonville. One day he had met me, and fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they could get ridofwhattheystole. Iknewthathewouldbetrue to me, for I knew one or two things about him; so I madeupmymindtogorightontoKilburn,where helived,andtakehimintomyconfidence. Hewould showmehowtoturnthestoneintomoney. Buthow togettohiminsafety? IthoughtoftheagoniesIhad gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at anymomentbeseizedandsearched,andtherewould be the stone in my waistcoat pocket. I was leaning againstthewallatthetimeandlookingatthegeese whichwerewaddlingaboutroundmyfeet,andsud- denlyanideacameintomyheadwhichshowedme howIcouldbeatthebestdetectivethateverlived.</s>“My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the pick of her geese for a Christmas present, andIknewthatshewasalwaysasgoodas her word. I would take my goose now, and in it I wouldcarry mystone to Kilburn. There was a little shedintheyard, andbehindthisIdroveoneofthe birds—a fine big one, white, with a barred tail. I caughtit,andpryingitsbillopen,Ithrustthestone downitsthroatasfarasmyfingercouldreach. The birdgaveagulp,andIfeltthestonepassalongitsgul- letanddownintoitscrop. Butthecreatureflapped andstruggled,andoutcamemysistertoknowwhat wasthematter. AsIturnedtospeaktoherthebrute brokelooseandflutteredoffamongtheothers.</s>“‘Whateverwereyoudoingwiththatbird,Jem?’ saysshe.</s>“‘Well,’ said I, ‘you said you’d give me one for Christmas,andIwasfeelingwhichwasthefattest.’ “‘Oh,’ says she, ‘we’ve set yours aside for you—Jem’s bird, we call it. It’s the big white one overyonder. There’stwenty-sixofthem,whichmakes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the market.’ “‘Thank you, Maggie,’ says I; ‘but if it is all the sametoyou,I’dratherhavethatoneIwashandling justnow.’ “‘The other is a good three pound heavier,’ said she,‘andwefatteneditexpresslyforyou.’ “‘Never mind. I’ll have the other, and I’ll take it now,’saidI.</s>“‘Oh, just as you like,’ said she, a little huffed.</s>‘Whichisityouwant,then?’ “‘Thatwhiteonewiththebarredtail,rightinthe middleoftheflock.’ “‘Oh,verywell. Killitandtakeitwithyou.’ “Well,Ididwhatshesaid,Mr.Holmes,andIcar- ried the bird all the way to Kilburn. I told my pal whatIhaddone,forhewasamanthatitwaseasyto tellathinglikethatto. Helaugheduntilhechoked, andwegotaknifeandopenedthegoose. Myheart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone, andIknewthatsometerriblemistakehadoccurred.</s>Ileftthebird,rushedbacktomysister’s,andhurried into the back yard. There was not a bird to be seen there.</s>“‘Wherearetheyall,Maggie?’ Icried.</s>“‘Gonetothedealer’s,Jem.’ “‘Whichdealer’s?’ “‘Breckinridge,ofCoventGarden.’ “‘But was there another with a barred tail?’ I asked,‘thesameastheoneIchose?’ “‘Yes,Jem;thereweretwobarred-tailedones,and Icouldnevertellthemapart.’ “Well,then,ofcourseIsawitall,andIranoffas hard as my feet would carry me to this man Breck- inridge;buthehadsoldthelotatonce,andnotone word would he tell me as to where they had gone.</s>You heard him yourselves to-night. Well, he has al- ways answered me like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. Sometimes I think that I am my- self. Andnow—andnowIammyselfabrandedthief, withouteverhavingtouchedthewealthforwhichI soldmycharacter. Godhelpme! Godhelpme!”He burstintoconvulsivesobbing,withhisfaceburiedin hishands.</s>Therewasalongsilence,brokenonlybyhisheavy breathing and by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes’finger-tipsupontheedgeofthetable. Then myfriendroseandthrewopenthedoor.</s>“Getout!”saidhe.</s>“What,sir! Oh,Heavenblessyou!” “Nomorewords. Getout!” And no more words were needed. There was a rush,aclatteruponthestairs,thebangofadoor,and thecrisprattleofrunningfootfallsfromthestreet.</s>“Afterall,Watson,”saidHolmes,reachinguphis handforhisclaypipe,“Iamnotretainedbythepo- lice to supply their deficiencies. If Horner were in dangeritwouldbeanotherthing;butthisfellowwill notappearagainsthim,andthecasemustcollapse. I supposethatIamcommutingafelony,butitisjust possiblethatIamsavingasoul. Thisfellowwillnot go wrong again; he is too terribly frightened. Send himtojailnow,andyoumakehimajail-birdforlife.Besides, it is the season of forgiveness. Chance has putinourwayamostsingularandwhimsicalprob- lem, and its solution is its own reward. If you will havethegoodnesstotouchthebell,Doctor,wewill beginanotherinvestigation,inwhich,alsoabirdwill bethechieffeature.”n glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I have during the last eight years studied the methods of my O friendSherlockHolmes,Ifindmanytragic, somecomic,alargenumbermerelystrange,butnone commonplace; for, working as he did rather for the loveofhisartthanfortheacquirementofwealth,he refused to associate himself with any investigation whichdidnottendtowardstheunusual,andeventhe fantastic. Ofallthesevariedcases,however,Icannot recall any which presented more singular features thanthatwhichwasassociatedwiththewell-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. The eventsinquestionoccurredintheearlydaysofmyas- sociationwithHolmes,whenweweresharingrooms asbachelorsinBakerStreet. ItispossiblethatImight haveplacedthemuponrecordbefore,butapromise of secrecy was made at the time, from which I have onlybeenfreedduringthelastmonthbytheuntimely 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 widespreadrumoursastothedeathofDr.Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the matter even more terriblethanthetruth.</s>It was early in April in the year ’83 that I woke onemorningtofindSherlockHolmesstanding,fully dressed,bythesideofmybed. Hewasalateriser,as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter-past seven, I blinked upathiminsomesurprise,andperhapsjustalittle resentment,forIwasmyselfregularinmyhabits.</s>“Very sorry to knock you up, Watson,” said he, “butit’sthecommonlotthismorning. Mrs.Hudson hasbeenknockedup,sheretorteduponme,andIon you.” “Whatisit,then—afire?” “No; a client. It seems that a young lady has ar- rivedinaconsiderablestateofexcitement,whoinsists 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 sleepypeopleupoutoftheirbeds,Ipresumethatitis somethingverypressingwhichtheyhavetocommu- nicate. Shoulditprovetobeaninterestingcase,you would,Iamsure,wishtofollowitfromtheoutset. I thought, atanyrate, thatIshouldcallyouandgive youthechance.” “Mydearfellow,Iwouldnotmissitforanything.” IhadnokeenerpleasurethaninfollowingHolmes in his professional investigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet alwaysfoundedonalogicalbasiswithwhichheun- ravelledtheproblemswhichweresubmittedtohim.</s>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 weentered.</s>“Good-morning, madam,” said Holmes cheerily.</s>“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 womaninalowvoice,changingherseatasrequested.</s>“What,then?” “Itisfear,Mr.Holmes. Itisterror.”Sheraisedher veil as she spoke, and we could see that she was in- deedinapitiablestateofagitation,herfacealldrawn andgrey,withrestlessfrightenedeyes,likethoseof some hunted animal. Her features and figure were thoseofawomanofthirty,butherhairwasshotwith premature grey, and her expression was weary and haggard. SherlockHolmesranheroverwithoneof hisquick,all-comprehensiveglances.</s>“Youmustnotfear,”saidhesoothingly,bending forwardandpattingherforearm. “Weshallsoonset mattersright,Ihavenodoubt. Youhavecomeinby trainthismorning,Isee.” “Youknowme,then?” “No,butIobservethesecondhalfofareturnticket inthepalmofyourleftglove. Youmusthavestarted early, and yet you had a good drive in a dog-cart, alongheavyroads,beforeyoureachedthestation.” Theladygaveaviolentstartandstaredinbewil- dermentatmycompanion.</s>“Thereisnomystery,mydearmadam,”saidhe, smiling. “Theleftarmofyourjacketisspatteredwith mudinnolessthansevenplaces. Themarksareper- fectlyfresh. Thereisnovehiclesaveadog-cartwhich throwsupmudinthatway,andthenonlywhenyou sitontheleft-handsideofthedriver.” “Whateveryourreasonsmaybe,youareperfectly correct,” said she. “I started from home before six, reachedLeatherheadattwentypast,andcameinby thefirsttraintoWaterloo. Sir,Icanstandthisstrain nolonger;Ishallgomadifitcontinues. Ihavenoone to turn to—none, save only one, who cares for me, andhe,poorfellow,canbeoflittleaid. Ihaveheardof you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs.</s>Farintosh,whomyouhelpedinthehourofhersore need. ItwasfromherthatIhadyouraddress. Oh,sir, doyounotthinkthatyoucouldhelpme,too,andat leastthrowalittlelightthroughthedensedarkness whichsurroundsme? Atpresentitisoutofmypower to reward you for your services, but in a month or six weeks I shall be married, with the control of my ownincome,andthenatleastyoushallnotfindme ungrateful.” Holmesturnedtohisdeskand,unlockingit,drew outasmallcase-book,whichheconsulted.</s>“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, thatIshallbehappytodevotethesamecaretoyour caseasIdidtothatofyourfriend. Astoreward,my professionisitsownreward;butyouareatlibertyto defraywhateverexpensesImaybeputto,atthetime whichsuitsyoubest. AndnowIbegthatyouwilllay beforeuseverythingthatmayhelpusinformingan opinionuponthematter.” “Alas!”repliedourvisitor,“theveryhorrorofmy situation lies in the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend so entirely upon small points,whichmightseemtrivialtoanother,thateven he to whom of all others I have a right to look for helpandadvicelooksuponallthatItellhimaboutit asthefanciesofanervouswoman. Hedoesnotsay so, but I can read it from his soothing answers and avertedeyes. ButIhaveheard,Mr.Holmes,thatyou can see deeply into the manifold wickedness of the humanheart. Youmayadvisemehowtowalkamid thedangerswhichencompassme.” “Iamallattention,madam.” “Myname isHelen Stoner, and Iam livingwith mystepfather,whoisthelastsurvivorofoneofthe oldestSaxonfamiliesinEngland,theRoylottsofStoke Moran,onthewesternborderofSurrey.” Holmesnoddedhishead. “Thenameisfamiliar tome,”saidhe.</s>“The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the estates extended over the bor- ders into Berkshire in the north, and Hampshire in thewest. Inthelastcentury,however,foursuccessive heirswereofadissoluteandwastefuldisposition,and thefamilyruinwaseventuallycompletedbyagam- blerinthedaysoftheRegency. Nothingwasleftsave afewacresofground,andthetwo-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under a heavy mort- gage. Thelastsquiredraggedouthisexistencethere, livingthehorriblelifeofanaristocraticpauper; but hisonlyson,mystepfather,seeingthathemustadapt himselfto thenewconditions, obtainedan advance fromarelative,whichenabledhimtotakeamedical degreeandwentouttoCalcutta,where,byhisprofes- sionalskillandhisforceofcharacter,heestablished alargepractice. Inafitofanger,however,causedby some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house,hebeathisnativebutlertodeathandnarrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a longtermofimprisonmentandafterwardsreturned toEnglandamoroseanddisappointedman.</s>“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 oldatthetimeofmymother’sre-marriage. Shehad aconsiderablesumofmoney—notlessthan£1000a year—andthisshebequeathedtoDr.Roylottentirely while we resided with him, with a provision that a certainannualsumshouldbeallowedtoeachofusin theeventofourmarriage. Shortlyafterourreturnto Englandmymotherdied—shewaskilledeightyears agoinarailwayaccidentnearCrewe. Dr.Roylottthen abandonedhisattemptstoestablishhimselfinprac- ticeinLondonandtookustolivewithhimintheold ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The money which mymotherhadleftwasenoughforallourwants,and thereseemedtobenoobstacletoourhappiness.</s>“But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time. Instead of making friends and ex- changingvisitswithourneighbours,whohadatfirst beenoverjoyedtoseeaRoylottofStokeMoranback intheoldfamilyseat,heshuthimselfupinhishouse and seldom came out save to indulge in ferocious quarrelswithwhoevermightcrosshispath. Violence oftemperapproachingtomaniahasbeenhereditary inthemenofthefamily,andinmystepfather’scase ithad,Ibelieve,beenintensifiedbyhislongresidence in the tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls took place,twoofwhichendedinthepolice-court,untilat lasthebecametheterrorofthevillage,andthefolks wouldflyathisapproach,forheisamanofimmense strength,andabsolutelyuncontrollableinhisanger.</s>“Lastweekhehurledthelocalblacksmithovera parapetintoastream,anditwasonlybypayingover all the money which I could gather together that I was able to avert another public exposure. He had nofriendsatallsavethewanderinggypsies,andhe would give these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered land which repre- sentthefamilyestate,andwouldacceptinreturnthehospitalityoftheirtents,wanderingawaywiththem sometimes for weeks on end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are sent over to him by a correspondent,andhehasatthismomentacheetah andababoon,whichwanderfreelyoverhisgrounds and are feared by the villagers almost as much as theirmaster.</s>“You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had no great pleasure in our lives.</s>No servant would stay with us, and for a long time wedidalltheworkofthehouse. Shewasbutthirty atthetimeofherdeath,andyetherhairhadalready beguntowhiten,evenasminehas.” “Yoursisterisdead,then?” “Shediedjusttwoyearsago,anditisofherdeath thatIwishtospeaktoyou. Youcanunderstandthat, livingthelifewhichIhavedescribed,wewerelittle likelytoseeanyoneofourownageandposition. We had, however, an aunt, my mother’s maiden sister, MissHonoriaWestphail,wholivesnearHarrow,and wewereoccasionallyallowedtopayshortvisitsatthis lady’shouse. JuliawentthereatChristmastwoyears ago, and met there a half-pay major of marines, to whomshebecameengaged. Mystepfatherlearnedof theengagementwhenmysisterreturnedandoffered no objection to the marriage; but within a fortnight ofthedaywhichhadbeenfixedforthewedding,the terribleeventoccurredwhichhasdeprivedmeofmy onlycompanion.” Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed and his head sunk in a cushion,buthehalfopenedhislidsnowandglanced acrossathisvisitor.</s>“Praybepreciseastodetails,”saidhe.</s>“Itiseasyformetobeso,foreveryeventofthat dreadfultimeissearedintomymemory. Themanor- houseis,asIhavealreadysaid,veryold,andonlyone wing is now inhabited. The bedrooms in this wing areonthegroundfloor,thesitting-roomsbeinginthe centralblockofthebuildings. Ofthesebedroomsthe firstisDr. Roylott’s, thesecondmysister’s, andthe third my own. There is no communication between them, but they all open out into the same corridor.</s>DoImakemyselfplain?” “Perfectlyso.” “Thewindowsofthethreeroomsopenoutupon thelawn. ThatfatalnightDr.Roylotthadgonetohis roomearly,thoughweknewthathehadnotretired 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 herapproachingwedding. Ateleveno’clocksherose to leave me, but she paused at the door and looked back.</s>“‘Tellme,Helen,’saidshe,‘haveyoueverheard anyonewhistleinthedeadofthenight?’ “‘Never,’saidI.</s>“‘I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself,inyoursleep?’ “‘Certainlynot. Butwhy?’ “‘BecauseduringthelastfewnightsIhavealways, aboutthreeinthemorning,heardalow,clearwhistle.</s>Iamalightsleeper,andithasawakenedme. Icannot tellwhereitcamefrom—perhapsfromthenextroom, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would just askyouwhetheryouhadheardit.’ “‘No,Ihavenot. Itmustbethosewretchedgipsies intheplantation.’ “‘Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonderthatyoudidnothearitalso.’ “‘Ah,butIsleepmoreheavilythanyou.’ “‘Well,itisofnogreatconsequence,atanyrate.’ She smiled back at me, closed my door, and a few momentslaterIheardherkeyturninthelock.” “Indeed,” said Holmes. “Was it your custom al- waystolockyourselvesinatnight?” “Always.” “Andwhy?” “I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetah and a baboon. We had no feeling of securityunlessourdoorswerelocked.” “Quiteso. Prayproceedwithyourstatement.” “I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impendingmisfortuneimpressedme. Mysisterand I,youwillrecollect,weretwins,andyouknowhow subtlearethelinkswhichbindtwosoulswhichare socloselyallied. Itwasawildnight. Thewindwas howlingoutside,andtherainwasbeatingandsplash- ing against the windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbubofthegale,thereburstforththewildscream of a terrified woman. I knew that it was my sister’s voice. Isprangfrommybed,wrappedashawlround me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my doorIseemedtohearalowwhistle,suchasmysister described,andafewmomentslateraclangingsound, as if a mass of metal had fallen. As I ran down the passage,mysister’sdoorwasunlocked,andrevolved slowlyuponitshinges. Istaredatithorror-stricken, notknowingwhatwasabouttoissuefromit. Bythe light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister appear attheopening,herfaceblanchedwithterror,herhands gropingforhelp,herwholefigureswayingtoandfro like that of a drunkard. I ran to her and threw my armsroundher,butatthatmomentherkneesseemed togivewayandshefelltotheground. Shewrithedas onewhoisinterriblepain,andherlimbsweredread- fully convulsed. At first I thought that she had not recognised me, but as I bent over her she suddenly shriekedoutinavoicewhichIshallneverforget,‘Oh, myGod! Helen! Itwastheband! Thespeckledband!’ Therewassomethingelsewhichshewouldfainhave said, and she stabbed with her finger into the air in the direction of the doctor’s room, but a fresh con- vulsion seized her and choked her words. I rushed out,callingloudlyformystepfather,andImethim hasteningfromhisroominhisdressing-gown. When hereachedmysister’ssideshewasunconscious,and thoughhepouredbrandydownherthroatandsent for medical aid from the village, all efforts were in vain, for she slowly sank and died without having recoveredherconsciousness. Suchwasthedreadful endofmybelovedsister.” “Onemoment,”saidHolmes,“areyousureabout thiswhistleandmetallicsound? Couldyouswearto it?” “That was what the county coroner asked me at theinquiry. ItismystrongimpressionthatIheardit, andyet,amongthecrashofthegaleandthecreaking ofanoldhouse,Imaypossiblyhavebeendeceived.” “Wasyoursisterdressed?” “No,shewasinhernight-dress. Inherrighthand wasfoundthecharredstumpofamatch,andinher leftamatch-box.” “Showingthatshehadstruckalightandlooked aboutherwhenthealarmtookplace. Thatisimpor- tant. And what conclusions did the coroner come to?” “Heinvestigatedthecasewithgreatcare,forDr.</s>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 hadbeenfastenedupontheinnerside,andthewin- dows were blocked by old-fashioned shutters with broadironbars,whichweresecuredeverynight. The wallswerecarefullysounded,andwereshowntobe quitesolidallround,andtheflooringwasalsothor- oughlyexamined,withthesameresult. Thechimney is wide, but is barred up by four large staples. It is certain,therefore,thatmysisterwasquitealonewhen shemetherend. Besides,therewerenomarksofany violenceuponher.” “Howaboutpoison?” “Thedoctorsexaminedherforit,butwithoutsuc- cess.” “What do you think that this unfortunate lady diedof,then?” “Itismybeliefthatshediedofpurefearandner- vousshock,thoughwhatitwasthatfrightenedherI cannotimagine.” “Weretheregipsiesintheplantationatthetime?” “Yes,therearenearlyalwayssomethere.” “Ah,andwhatdidyougatherfromthisallusion toaband—aspeckledband?” “SometimesIhavethoughtthatitwasmerelythe wildtalkofdelirium,sometimesthatitmayhavere- ferredtosomebandofpeople,perhapstothesevery gipsiesintheplantation. Idonotknowwhetherthe spottedhandkerchiefswhichsomanyofthemwear over their heads might have suggested the strange adjectivewhichsheused.” Holmesshookhisheadlikeamanwhoisfarfrom beingsatisfied.</s>“These are very deep waters,” said he; “pray go onwithyournarrative.” “Two years have passed since then, and my life hasbeenuntillatelylonelierthanever. Amonthago, however,adearfriend,whomIhaveknownformany years,hasdonemethehonourtoaskmyhandinmar- riage. HisnameisArmitage—PercyArmitage—the second son of Mr. Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. Mystepfatherhasofferednooppositionto thematch,andwearetobemarriedinthecourseof thespring. Twodaysagosomerepairswerestarted in the west wing of the building, and my bedroom wallhasbeenpierced,sothatIhavehadtomoveinto 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, thinkingoverherterriblefate,Isuddenlyheardinthe silenceofthenightthelowwhistlewhichhadbeen theheraldofherowndeath. Isprangupandlitthe lamp,butnothingwastobeseenintheroom. Iwas tooshakentogotobedagain,however,soIdressed, and as soon as it was daylight I slipped down, got adog-cartattheCrownInn,whichisopposite,and drove to Leatherhead, from whence I have come on this morning with the one object of seeing you and askingyouradvice.” “Youhavedonewisely,”saidmyfriend. “Buthave youtoldmeall?” “Yes,all.”“Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening yourstepfather.” “Why,whatdoyoumean?” ForanswerHolmespushedbackthefrillofblack lace which fringed the hand that lay upon our visi- tor’s knee. Five little livid spots, the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed upon the white wrist.</s>“Youhavebeencruellyused,”saidHolmes.</s>The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. “He is a hard man,” she said, “and perhapshehardlyknowshisownstrength.” There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin upon his hands and stared into the cracklingfire.</s>“This is a very deep business,” he said at last.</s>“ThereareathousanddetailswhichIshoulddesire to know before I decide upon our course of action.</s>Yetwehavenotamomenttolose. Ifweweretocome toStokeMoranto-day,woulditbepossibleforusto seeovertheseroomswithouttheknowledgeofyour stepfather?” “As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon some most important business. It is probablethathewillbeawayallday,andthatthere would be nothing to disturb you. We have a house- keeper now, but she is old and foolish, and I could easilygetheroutoftheway.” “Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Wat- son?” “Bynomeans.” “Thenweshallbothcome. Whatareyougoingto doyourself?” “IhaveoneortwothingswhichIwouldwishto do now that I am in town. But I shall return by the twelveo’clocktrain,soastobethereintimeforyour coming.” “Andyoumayexpectusearlyintheafternoon. I havemyselfsomesmallbusinessmatterstoattendto.</s>Willyounotwaitandbreakfast?” “No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I have confided my trouble to you. I shall lookforwardtoseeingyouagainthisafternoon.”She droppedherthickblackveiloverherfaceandglided fromtheroom.</s>“Andwhatdoyouthinkofitall,Watson?”asked SherlockHolmes,leaningbackinhischair.</s>“It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business.” “Darkenoughandsinisterenough.” “Yetiftheladyiscorrectinsayingthattheflooring andwallsaresound,andthatthedoor,window,and chimney are impassable, then her sister must have beenundoubtedlyalonewhenshemethermysterious end.” “Whatbecomes,then,ofthesenocturnalwhistles, and what of the very peculiar words of the dying woman?” “Icannotthink.” “Whenyoucombinetheideasofwhistlesatnight, thepresenceofabandofgipsieswhoareonintimate termswiththisolddoctor,thefactthatwehaveevery reason to believe that the doctor has an interest in preventinghisstepdaughter’smarriage,thedyingal- lusiontoaband,and,finally,thefactthatMissHelen Stonerheardametallicclang,whichmighthavebeen caused by one of those metal bars that secured the shuttersfallingbackintoitsplace,Ithinkthatthereis goodgroundtothinkthatthemysterymaybecleared alongthoselines.” “Butwhat,then,didthegipsiesdo?” “Icannotimagine.” “Iseemanyobjectionstoanysuchtheory.” “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 explainedaway. Butwhatinthenameofthedevil!” The ejaculation had been drawn from my com- panionbythefactthatourdoorhadbeensuddenly dashedopen,andthatahugemanhadframedhim- selfintheaperture. Hiscostumewasapeculiarmix- tureoftheprofessionalandoftheagricultural,having ablacktop-hat,alongfrock-coat,andapairofhigh gaiters,withahunting-cropswinginginhishand. So tallwashethathishatactuallybrushedthecrossbar of the doorway, and his breadth seemed to span it acrossfromsidetoside. Alargeface,searedwitha thousandwrinkles,burnedyellowwiththesun,and markedwitheveryevilpassion,wasturnedfromone to the other ofus, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, andhishigh,thin,fleshlessnose,gavehimsomewhat theresemblancetoafierceoldbirdofprey.</s>“WhichofyouisHolmes?”askedthisapparition.</s>“Myname,sir;butyouhavetheadvantageofme,” saidmycompanionquietly.</s>“IamDr.GrimesbyRoylott,ofStokeMoran.” “Indeed,Doctor,”saidHolmesblandly. “Praytake aseat.”“Iwill donothingof thekind. My stepdaughter hasbeenhere. Ihavetracedher. Whathasshebeen sayingtoyou?” “It is a little cold for the time of the year,” said Holmes.</s>“Whathasshebeensayingtoyou?”screamedthe oldmanfuriously.</s>“ButIhaveheardthatthecrocusespromisewell,” continuedmycompanionimperturbably.</s>“Ha! Youputmeoff,doyou?”saidournewvis- itor, taking a step forward and shaking his hunting- crop. “I know you, you scoundrel! I have heard of youbefore. YouareHolmes,themeddler.” Myfriendsmiled.</s>“Holmes,thebusybody!” Hissmilebroadened.</s>“Holmes,theScotlandYardJack-in-office!” Holmeschuckledheartily. “Yourconversationis mostentertaining,”saidhe. “Whenyougooutclose thedoor,forthereisadecideddraught.” “IwillgowhenIhavesaidmysay. Don’tyoudare to meddle with my affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am a dangerous man tofallfoulof! Seehere.”Hesteppedswiftlyforward, seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his hugebrownhands.</s>“See that you keep yourself out of my grip,” he snarled, and hurling the twisted poker into the fire- placehestrodeoutoftheroom.</s>“Heseemsaveryamiableperson,”saidHolmes, laughing. “I am not quite so bulky, but if he had remainedImighthaveshownhimthatmygripwas notmuchmorefeeblethanhisown.”Ashespokehe pickedupthesteelpokerand,withasuddeneffort, straighteneditoutagain.</s>“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 impru- dence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, Watson, we shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shallwalkdowntoDoctors’Commons,whereIhope togetsomedatawhichmayhelpusinthismatter.” Itwasnearlyoneo’clockwhenSherlockHolmes returned from his excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled over with notes and figures.</s>“Ihaveseenthewillofthedeceasedwife,”saidhe.</s>“TodetermineitsexactmeaningIhavebeenobliged toworkoutthepresentpricesoftheinvestmentswith which it is concerned. The total income, which at thetimeofthewife’sdeathwaslittleshortof£1100, is now, through the fall in agricultural prices, not morethan£750. Eachdaughtercanclaimanincome of £250, in case of marriage. It is evident, therefore, thatifbothgirlshadmarried,thisbeautywouldhave hadamerepittance, whileevenoneofthemwould cripple him to a very serious extent. My morning’s work has not been wasted, since it has proved that hehastheverystrongestmotivesforstandinginthe wayofanythingofthesort. Andnow,Watson,thisis tooseriousfordawdling,especiallyastheoldmanis awarethatweareinterestingourselvesinhisaffairs; so if you are ready, we shall call a cab and drive to Waterloo. Ishouldbeverymuchobligedifyouwould slipyourrevolverintoyourpocket. AnEley’sNo.2is anexcellentargumentwithgentlemenwhocantwist steelpokersintoknots. Thatandatooth-brushare,I think,allthatweneed.” AtWaterloowewerefortunateincatchingatrain forLeatherhead,wherewehiredatrapatthestation innanddroveforfourorfivemilesthroughthelovely Surreylanes. Itwasaperfectday,withabrightsun and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees andwaysidehedgeswerejustthrowingouttheirfirst greenshoots,andtheairwasfullofthepleasantsmell ofthemoistearth. Tomeatleasttherewasastrange contrastbetweenthesweetpromiseofthespringand thissinisterquestuponwhichwewereengaged. My companionsatinthefrontofthetrap,hisarmsfolded, hishatpulleddownoverhiseyes,andhischinsunk uponhisbreast,buriedinthedeepestthought. Sud- denly,however,hestarted,tappedmeontheshoulder, andpointedoverthemeadows.</s>“Lookthere!”saidhe.</s>Aheavilytimberedparkstretchedupinagentle slope, thickening into a grove at the highest point.</s>From amid the branches there jutted out the grey gablesandhighroof-treeofaveryoldmansion.</s>“StokeMoran?”saidhe.</s>“Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roy- lott,”remarkedthedriver.</s>“There is some building going on there,” said Holmes;“thatiswherewearegoing.” “There’sthevillage,”saidthedriver,pointingtoa clusterofroofssomedistancetotheleft;“butifyou wanttogettothehouse,you’llfinditshortertoget overthisstile,andsobythefoot-pathoverthefields.</s>Thereitis,wheretheladyiswalking.”“Andthelady,Ifancy,isMissStoner,”observed Holmes,shadinghiseyes. “Yes,Ithinkwehadbetter doasyousuggest.” Wegotoff,paidourfare,andthetraprattledback onitswaytoLeatherhead.</s>“Ithoughtitaswell,”saidHolmesasweclimbed thestile,“thatthisfellowshouldthinkwehadcome here as architects, or on some definite business. It may stop his gossip. Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner.</s>Youseethatwehavebeenasgoodasourword.” Ourclientofthemorninghadhurriedforwardto meetuswithafacewhichspokeherjoy. “Ihavebeen waitingsoeagerlyforyou,”shecried,shakinghands withuswarmly. “Allhasturnedoutsplendidly. Dr.</s>Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely that he willbebackbeforeevening.” “Wehavehadthepleasureofmakingthedoctor’s acquaintance,” said Holmes, and in a few words he sketchedoutwhathadoccurred. MissStonerturned whitetothelipsasshelistened.</s>“Goodheavens!”shecried,“hehasfollowedme, then.” “Soitappears.” “He is so cunning that I never know when I am safefromhim. Whatwillhesaywhenhereturns?” “Hemustguardhimself,forhemayfindthatthere issomeonemorecunningthanhimselfuponhistrack.</s>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,wemustmakethebestuseofourtime, sokindlytakeusatoncetotheroomswhichweare toexamine.” The building was of grey, lichen-blotched stone, with a high central portion and two curving wings, liketheclawsofacrab,thrownoutoneachside. 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 por- tion 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 thechimneys,showedthatthiswaswherethefamily resided. Some scaffolding had been erected against the end wall, and the stone-work had been broken into,buttherewerenosignsofanyworkmenatthe momentofourvisit. Holmeswalkedslowlyupand downtheill-trimmedlawnandexaminedwithdeep attentiontheoutsidesofthewindows.</s>“This,Itakeit,belongstotheroominwhichyou used to sleep, the centre one to your sister’s, and the one next to the main building to Dr. Roylott’s chamber?” “Exactlyso. ButIamnowsleepinginthemiddle one.” “Pendingthealterations,asIunderstand. Bythe way,theredoesnotseemtobeanyverypressingneed forrepairsatthatendwall.” “Therewerenone. Ibelievethatitwasanexcuse tomovemefrommyroom.” “Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow wing runs the corridor from which thesethreeroomsopen. Therearewindowsinit,of course?” “Yes,butverysmallones. Toonarrowforanyone topassthrough.” “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 andbaryourshutters?” Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examinationthroughtheopenwindow,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 hetestedthehinges,buttheywereofsolidiron,built firmly into the massive masonry. “Hum!” said he, scratching his chin in some perplexity, “my theory certainly presents some difficulties. No one could passtheseshuttersiftheywerebolted. Well,weshall seeiftheinsidethrowsanylightuponthematter.” Asmallsidedoorledintothewhitewashedcorri- dorfromwhichthethreebedroomsopened. Holmes refusedtoexaminethethirdchamber,sowepassed atoncetothesecond,thatinwhichMissStonerwas nowsleeping,andinwhichhersisterhadmetwith herfate. Itwasahomelylittleroom,withalowceil- ing and a gaping fireplace, after the fashion of old country-houses. A brown chest of drawers stood in onecorner,anarrowwhite-counterpanedbedinan- other,andadressing-tableontheleft-handsideofthe window. Thesearticles,withtwosmallwicker-work chairs,madeupallthefurnitureintheroomsavefor a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards roundandthepanellingofthewallswereofbrown, worm-eatenoak,sooldanddiscolouredthatitmay have dated from the original building of the house.</s>Holmesdrewoneofthechairsintoacornerandsat silent,whilehiseyestravelledroundandroundand upanddown,takingineverydetailoftheapartment.</s>“Where does that bell communicate with?” he askedatlastpointingtoathickbell-ropewhichhungdown beside the bed, the tassel actually lying upon thepillow.</s>“Itgoestothehousekeeper’sroom.” “Itlooksnewerthantheotherthings?” “Yes,itwasonlyputthereacoupleofyearsago.” “Yoursisteraskedforit,Isuppose?” “No,Ineverheardofherusingit. Weusedalways togetwhatwewantedforourselves.” “Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pullthere. Youwillexcusemeforafewminutes whileIsatisfymyselfastothisfloor.”Hethrewhim- selfdownuponhisfacewithhislensinhishandand crawled swiftly backward and forward, examining minutelythecracksbetweentheboards. Thenhedid thesamewiththewood-workwithwhichthecham- berwaspanelled. Finallyhewalkedovertothebed and spent some time in staring at it and in running his eye up and down the wall. Finally he took the bell-ropeinhishandandgaveitabrisktug.</s>“Why,it’sadummy,”saidhe.</s>“Won’titring?” “No,itisnotevenattachedtoawire. Thisisvery interesting. You can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where the little opening for the ventilatoris.” “Howveryabsurd! Inevernoticedthatbefore.” “Verystrange!”mutteredHolmes,pullingatthe rope. “There are one or two very singular points aboutthisroom. Forexample,whatafoolabuilder mustbetoopenaventilatorintoanotherroom,when, withthesametrouble,hemighthavecommunicated withtheoutsideair!” “Thatisalsoquitemodern,”saidthelady.</s>“Doneaboutthesametimeasthebell-rope?”re- markedHolmes.</s>“Yes,therewereseverallittlechangescarriedout aboutthattime.” “They seem to have been of a most interesting character—dummybell-ropes,andventilatorswhich donotventilate. Withyourpermission,MissStoner, weshallnowcarryourresearchesintotheinnerapart- ment.” Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s chamber was larger than that of his step-daughter, but was as plainly fur- nished. A camp-bed, a small wooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an armchair besidethebed,aplainwoodenchairagainstthewall, aroundtable,andalargeironsafeweretheprincipal things which met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined each and all of them with the keenestinterest.</s>“What’sinhere?”heasked,tappingthesafe.</s>“Mystepfather’sbusinesspapers.” “Oh! youhaveseeninside,then?” “Only once, some years ago. I remember that it wasfullofpapers.” “Thereisn’tacatinit,forexample?” “No. Whatastrangeidea!” “Well,lookatthis!”Hetookupasmallsaucerof milkwhichstoodonthetopofit.</s>“No; we don’t keep a cat. But there is a cheetah andababoon.” “Ah,yes,ofcourse! Well,acheetahisjustabigcat, andyetasaucerofmilkdoesnotgoveryfarinsatis- fying its wants, I daresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine.” He squatted down in frontofthewoodenchairandexaminedtheseatofit withthegreatestattention.</s>“Thankyou. Thatisquitesettled,”saidhe,rising and putting his lens in his pocket. “Hullo! Here is somethinginteresting!” Theobjectwhichhadcaughthiseyewasasmall dog lash hung on one corner of the bed. The lash, however,wascurleduponitselfandtiedsoastomake aloopofwhipcord.</s>“Whatdoyoumakeofthat,Watson?” “It’s a common enough lash. But I don’t know whyitshouldbetied.” “Thatisnotquitesocommon,isit? Ah,me! it’sa wickedworld,andwhenaclevermanturnshisbrains tocrimeitistheworstofall. IthinkthatIhaveseen enoughnow,MissStoner,andwithyourpermission weshallwalkoutuponthelawn.” 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 timesupanddownthelawn,neitherMissStonernor myselflikingtobreakinuponhisthoughtsbeforehe rousedhimselffromhisreverie.</s>“It is very essential, Miss Stoner,” said he, “that youshouldabsolutelyfollowmyadviceineveryre- spect.” “Ishallmostcertainlydoso.” “Thematteristooseriousforanyhesitation. Your lifemaydependuponyourcompliance.” “IassureyouthatIaminyourhands.” “In the first place, both my friend and I must spendthenightinyourroom.”BothMissStonerandIgazedathiminastonish- ment.</s>“Yes,itmustbeso. Letmeexplain. Ibelievethat thatisthevillageinnoverthere?” “Yes,thatistheCrown.” “Verygood. Yourwindowswouldbevisiblefrom there?” “Certainly.” “Youmustconfineyourselftoyourroom,onpre- tence 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 thehasp,putyourlampthereasasignaltous,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, youcouldmanagethereforonenight.” “Oh,yes,easily.” “Therestyouwillleaveinourhands.” “Butwhatwillyoudo?” “Weshallspendthenightinyourroom,andwe shall investigate the cause of this noise which has disturbedyou.” “I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind,” said Miss Stoner, laying her handuponmycompanion’ssleeve.</s>“PerhapsIhave.” “Then,forpity’ssake,tellmewhatwasthecause ofmysister’sdeath.” “I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak.” “Youcanatleasttellmewhethermyownthought iscorrect,andifshediedfromsomesuddenfright.” “No, I do not think so. I think that there was probablysomemoretangiblecause. Andnow,Miss Stoner,wemustleaveyouforifDr.Roylottreturned andsawusourjourneywouldbeinvain. Good-bye, andbebrave,forifyouwilldowhatIhavetoldyou, you may rest assured that we shall soon drive away thedangersthatthreatenyou.” SherlockHolmesandIhadnodifficultyinengag- ing a bedroom and sitting-room at the Crown Inn.</s>Theywereontheupperfloor,andfromourwindow we could command a view of the avenue gate, and oftheinhabitedwingofStokeMoranManorHouse.</s>AtduskwesawDr.GrimesbyRoylottdrivepast,his hugeformloomingupbesidethelittlefigureofthe lad who drove him. The boy had some slight diffi- cultyinundoingtheheavyirongates,andweheard thehoarseroarofthedoctor’svoiceandsawthefury with which he shook his clinched fists at him. The trapdroveon,andafewminuteslaterwesawasud- denlightspringupamongthetreesasthelampwas litinoneofthesitting-rooms.</s>“Doyouknow,Watson,”saidHolmesaswesatto- getherinthegatheringdarkness,“Ihavereallysome scruplesastotakingyouto-night. Thereisadistinct elementofdanger.” “CanIbeofassistance?” “Yourpresencemightbeinvaluable.” “ThenIshallcertainlycome.” “Itisverykindofyou.” “You speak of danger. You have evidently seen moreintheseroomsthanwasvisibletome.” “No,butIfancythatImayhavededucedalittle more. IimaginethatyousawallthatIdid.” “Isawnothingremarkablesavethebell-rope,and what purpose that could answer I confess is more thanIcanimagine.” “Yousawtheventilator,too?” “Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very un- usual 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 everwecametoStokeMoran.” “MydearHolmes!” “Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement shesaidthathersistercouldsmellDr.Roylott’scigar.</s>Now,ofcoursethatsuggestedatoncethattheremust beacommunicationbetweenthetworooms. Itcould onlybeasmallone,oritwouldhavebeenremarked uponatthecoroner’sinquiry. Ideducedaventilator.” “Butwhatharmcantherebeinthat?” “Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. Aventilatorismade,acordishung,andalady whosleepsinthebeddies. Doesnotthatstrikeyou?” “Icannotasyetseeanyconnection.” “Did you observe anything very peculiar about thatbed?” “No.” “It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bedfastenedlikethatbefore?” “IcannotsaythatIhave.” “Theladycouldnotmoveherbed. Itmustalways beinthesamerelativepositiontotheventilatorand totherope—orsowemaycallit,sinceitwasclearly nevermeantforabell-pull.”“Holmes,”Icried,“Iseemtoseedimlywhatyou are hinting at. We are only just in time to prevent somesubtleandhorriblecrime.” “Subtleenoughandhorribleenough. Whenadoc- tordoesgowrongheisthefirstofcriminals. Hehas nerveandhehasknowledge. PalmerandPritchard wereamongtheheadsoftheirprofession. Thisman strikesevendeeper,butIthink,Watson,thatweshall beabletostrikedeeperstill. Butweshallhavehorrors enough before the night is over; for goodness’ sake letushaveaquietpipeandturnourmindsforafew hourstosomethingmorecheerful.” Aboutnineo’clockthelightamongthetreeswas extinguished,andallwasdarkinthedirectionofthe Manor House. Two hours passed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of eleven, a single brightlightshoneoutrightinfrontofus.</s>“Thatisoursignal,”saidHolmes,springingtohis feet;“itcomesfromthemiddlewindow.” Aswepassedoutheexchangedafewwordswith thelandlord,explainingthatweweregoingonalate visittoanacquaintance,andthatitwaspossiblethat wemightspendthenightthere. Amomentlaterwe wereoutonthedarkroad,achillwindblowinginour faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us throughthegloomtoguideusonoursombreerrand.</s>Therewaslittledifficultyinenteringthegrounds, for unrepaired breaches gaped in the old park wall.</s>Making our way among the trees, we reached the lawn,crossedit,andwereabouttoenterthroughthe windowwhenoutfromaclumpoflaurelbushesthere darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted child,whothrewitselfuponthegrasswithwrithing limbs and then ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness.</s>“MyGod!”Iwhispered;“didyouseeit?” Holmes was for the moment as startledas I. His handclosedlikeaviceuponmywristinhisagitation.</s>Thenhebrokeintoalowlaughandputhislipstomy ear.</s>“It is a nice household,” he murmured. “That is thebaboon.” Ihadforgottenthestrangepetswhichthedoctor affected. Therewasacheetah,too;perhapswemight findituponourshouldersatanymoment. Iconfess that I felt easier in my mind when, after following Holmes’exampleandslippingoffmyshoes,Ifound myself inside the bedroom. My companion noise- lessly 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 meandmakingatrumpetofhishand,hewhispered intomyearagainsogentlythatitwasallthatIcould dotodistinguishthewords: “Theleastsoundwouldbefataltoourplans.” InoddedtoshowthatIhadheard.</s>“We must sit without light. He would see it throughtheventilator.” Inoddedagain.</s>“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 thatchair.” Itookoutmyrevolverandlaiditonthecornerof thetable.</s>Holmeshadbroughtupalongthincane,andthis heplaceduponthebedbesidehim. Byithelaidthe box of matches and the stump of a candle. Then he turneddownthelamp,andwewereleftindarkness.</s>HowshallIeverforgetthatdreadfulvigil? Icould not hear a sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my companion sat open-eyed, withinafewfeetofme,inthesamestateofnervous tensioninwhichIwasmyself. Theshutterscutoffthe leastrayoflight,andwewaitedinabsolutedarkness.</s>Fromoutsidecametheoccasionalcryofanight- 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! Twelvestruck,andoneandtwoandthree, and still we sat waiting silently for whatever might befall.</s>Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a lightupinthedirectionoftheventilator,whichvan- ished 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 gen- tlesoundofmovement,andthenallwassilentonce more, though the smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining ears. Then suddenly an- othersoundbecameaudible—averygentle,soothing sound,likethatofasmalljetofsteamescapingcon- tinually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashedfuriouslywithhiscaneatthebell-pull.</s>“Youseeit,Watson?”heyelled. “Youseeit?” ButIsawnothing. AtthemomentwhenHolmes 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 myfriendlashedsosavagely. Icould,however,seethat his face was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing. Hehadceasedtostrikeandwasgazingup attheventilatorwhensuddenlytherebrokefromthe silence of the night the most horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder and louder, ahoarseyellofpainandfearandangerallmingled intheonedreadfulshriek. Theysaythatawaydown inthevillage,andeveninthedistantparsonage,that cryraisedthesleepersfromtheirbeds. Itstruckcold toourhearts,andIstoodgazingatHolmes,andhe at me, until the last echoes of it had died away into thesilencefromwhichitrose.</s>“Whatcanitmean?”Igasped.</s>“It means that it is all over,” Holmes answered.</s>“And perhaps, after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol,andwewillenterDr.Roylott’sroom.” Withagravefacehelitthelampandledtheway down the corridor. Twice he struck at the chamber doorwithoutanyreplyfromwithin. Thenheturned thehandleandentered,Iathisheels,withthecocked pistolinmyhand.</s>It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a dark-lantern with the shutter half open,throwingabrilliantbeamoflightupontheiron safe,thedoorofwhichwasajar. Besidethistable,on thewoodenchair,satDr.GrimesbyRoylottcladina longgreydressing-gown,hisbareanklesprotruding beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turk- ish slippers. Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash which we had noticed during the day.</s>Hischinwascockedupwardandhiseyeswerefixed ina dreadful, rigid stareatthe corner oftheceiling.</s>Roundhisbrowhehadapeculiaryellowband,with brownishspeckles,whichseemedtobeboundtightly roundhishead. Asweenteredhemadeneithersound normotion.</s>“The band! the speckled band!” whispered Holmes.</s>I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgearbegantomove,andtherereareditselffrom amonghishairthesquatdiamond-shapedheadand puffedneckofaloathsomeserpent.</s>“It is a swamp adder!” cried Holmes; “the dead- liestsnakeinIndia. Hehasdiedwithintenseconds of being bitten. Violence does, in truth, recoil upon theviolent,andtheschemerfallsintothepitwhich he digs for another. Let us thrust this creature back intoitsden,andwecanthenremoveMissStonerto someplaceofshelterandletthecountypoliceknow whathashappened.” Ashespoke hedrewthedog-whip swiftlyfrom the dead man’s lap, and throwing the noose round thereptile’sneckhedrewitfromitshorridperchand, carryingitatarm’slength,threwitintotheironsafe, whichhecloseduponit.</s>SucharethetruefactsofthedeathofDr.Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran. It is not necessary that I shouldprolonganarrativewhichhasalreadyrunto too great a length by telling how we broke the sad news to the terrified girl, how we conveyed her by themorningtraintothecareofhergoodauntatHar- row,ofhowtheslowprocessofofficialinquirycame to the conclusion that the doctor met his fate while indiscreetlyplayingwithadangerouspet. Thelittle which I had yet to learn of the case was told me by SherlockHolmesaswetravelledbacknextday.</s>“I had,” said he, “come to an entirely erroneous conclusionwhichshows,mydearWatson,howdan- gerous it always is to reason from insufficient data.</s>Thepresenceofthegipsies,andtheuseoftheword ‘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 sufficienttoputmeuponanentirelywrongscent. I canonlyclaimthemeritthatIinstantlyreconsidered my position when, however, it became clear to me thatwhateverdangerthreatenedanoccupantofthe roomcouldnotcomeeitherfromthewindoworthe door. My attention was speedily drawn, as I have alreadyremarkedtoyou,tothisventilator,andtothe bell-ropewhichhungdowntothebed. Thediscovery thatthiswasadummy,andthatthebedwasclamped to the floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the rope was there as a bridge for something pass- ing through the hole and coming to the bed. The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me, and when Icoupleditwithmyknowledgethatthedoctorwas 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 oneaswouldoccurtoacleverandruthlessmanwho hadhadanEasterntraining. Therapiditywithwhich suchapoisonwouldtakeeffectwouldalso,fromhis pointofview,beanadvantage. Itwouldbeasharp- eyedcoroner,indeed,whocoulddistinguishthetwo little dark punctures which would show where the poisonfangshaddonetheirwork. ThenIthoughtof thewhistle. Ofcoursehemustrecallthesnakebefore the morning light revealed it to the victim. He had trainedit,probablybytheuseofthemilkwhichwe saw,toreturntohimwhensummoned. Hewouldputitthroughthisventilatoratthehourthathethought best,withthecertaintythatitwouldcrawldownthe ropeandlandonthebed. Itmightormightnotbite theoccupant,perhapsshemightescapeeverynight foraweek,butsoonerorlatershemustfallavictim.</s>“IhadcometotheseconclusionsbeforeeverIhad enteredhisroom. Aninspectionofhischairshowed me that he had been in the habit of standing on it, which of course would be necessary in order that heshouldreachtheventilator. Thesightofthesafe, the saucer of milk, and the loop of whipcord were enoughtofinallydispelanydoubtswhichmayhave remained. The metallic clang heard by Miss Stoner wasobviouslycausedbyherstepfatherhastilyclosing thedoorofhissafeuponitsterribleoccupant. Having oncemadeupmymind,youknowthestepswhichI tookinordertoputthemattertotheproof. Iheard thecreaturehissasIhavenodoubtthatyoudidalso, andIinstantlylitthelightandattackedit.” “Withtheresultofdrivingitthroughtheventila- tor.” “And also with the result of causing it to turn uponitsmasterattheotherside. Someoftheblows ofmycanecamehomeandrouseditssnakishtemper, sothatitflewuponthefirstpersonitsaw. Inthisway IamnodoubtindirectlyresponsibleforDr.Grimesby Roylott’s death, and I cannot say that it is likely to weighveryheavilyuponmyconscience.”falltheproblemswhichhavebeensubmit- tedtomyfriend,Mr.SherlockHolmes,for solution during the years of our intimacy, O therewereonlytwowhichIwasthemeans ofintroducingtohisnotice—thatofMr.Hatherley’s thumb,andthatofColonelWarburton’smadness. Of these the latter may have afforded a finer field for anacuteandoriginalobserver,buttheotherwasso strangeinitsinceptionandsodramaticinitsdetails thatitmaybethemoreworthyofbeingplacedupon 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,beentoldmorethanonceinthenewspapers, but, like all such narratives, its effect is much less strikingwhensetforthenblocinasinglehalf-column ofprintthanwhenthefactsslowlyevolvebeforeyour owneyes,andthemysteryclearsgraduallyawayas eachnewdiscoveryfurnishesastepwhichleadson tothecompletetruth. Atthetimethecircumstances made a deep impression upon me, and the lapse of twoyearshashardlyservedtoweakentheeffect.</s>Itwasinthesummerof’89,notlongaftermymar- riage,thattheeventsoccurredwhichIamnowabout tosummarise. Ihadreturnedtocivilpracticeandhad finallyabandonedHolmesinhisBakerStreetrooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally evenpersuadedhimtoforgohisBohemianhabitsso farastocomeandvisitus. Mypracticehadsteadily increased,andasIhappenedtoliveatnoverygreat distancefromPaddingtonStation,Igotafewpatients fromamongtheofficials. Oneofthese,whomIhad cured of a painful and lingering disease, was never wearyofadvertisingmyvirtuesandofendeavouring to send me on every sufferer over whom he might haveanyinfluence.</s>One morning, at a little before seven o’clock, I was awakened by the maid tapping at the door to announcethattwomenhadcomefromPaddington and were waiting in the consulting-room. I dressed hurriedly,forIknewbyexperiencethatrailwaycases were seldom trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I descended, my old ally, the guard, came out of the roomandclosedthedoortightlybehindhim.</s>“I’ve got him here,” he whispered, jerking his thumboverhisshoulder;“he’sallright.” “What is it, then?” I asked, for his manner sug- gested that it was some strange creature which he hadcagedupinmyroom.</s>“It’sanewpatient,”hewhispered. “IthoughtI’d bringhimroundmyself; thenhecouldn’tslipaway.</s>Thereheis,allsafeandsound. Imustgonow,Doctor; Ihavemydooties,justthesameasyou.”Andoffhe went,thistrustytout,withoutevengivingmetimeto thankhim.</s>Ienteredmyconsulting-roomandfoundagentle- man seated by the table. He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft cloth cap which hehadlaiddownuponmybooks. Roundoneofhis hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottledalloverwithbloodstains. Hewasyoung,not morethanfive-and-twenty,Ishouldsay,withastrong, masculineface;buthewasexceedinglypaleandgave metheimpressionofamanwhowassufferingfrom somestrongagitation,whichittookallhisstrength ofmindtocontrol.</s>“Iamsorrytoknockyouupsoearly,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,aworthyfellowverykindlyescortedmehere.</s>I gave the maid a card, but I see that she has left it upontheside-table.” Itookitupandglancedatit. “Mr.VictorHather- ley, 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 wait- ing,” said I, sitting down in my library-chair. “You arefreshfromanightjourney,Iunderstand,whichis initselfamonotonousoccupation.” “Oh,mynightcouldnotbecalledmonotonous,” saidhe,andlaughed. Helaughedveryheartily,with a high, ringing note, leaning back in his chair and shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up againstthatlaugh.</s>“Stop it!” I cried; “pull yourself together!” and I pouredoutsomewaterfromacaraffe.</s>Itwasuseless,however. Hewasoffinoneofthose hystericaloutburstswhichcomeuponastrongnature when some great crisis is over and gone. Presently hecametohimselfoncemore,verywearyandpale- looking.</s>“Ihavebeenmakingafoolofmyself,”hegasped.</s>“Not at all. Drink this.” I dashed some brandy intothewater,andthecolourbegantocomebackto hisbloodlesscheeks.</s>“That’s better!” said he. “And now, Doctor, per- hapsyouwouldkindlyattendtomythumb,orrather totheplacewheremythumbusedtobe.” He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. Itgaveevenmyhardenednervesashudderto lookatit. Therewerefourprotrudingfingersanda horridred,spongysurfacewherethethumbshouldhavebeen. Ithadbeenhackedortornrightoutfrom theroots.</s>“Goodheavens!”Icried,“thisisaterribleinjury.</s>Itmusthavebledconsiderably.” “Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I thinkthatImusthavebeensenselessforalongtime.</s>WhenIcametoIfoundthatitwasstillbleeding,soI tiedoneendofmyhandkerchiefverytightlyround thewristandbraceditupwithatwig.” “Excellent! Youshouldhavebeenasurgeon.” “Itisaquestionofhydraulics,yousee,andcame withinmyownprovince.” “This has been done,” said I, examining the wound,“byaveryheavyandsharpinstrument.” “Athinglikeacleaver,”saidhe.</s>“Anaccident,Ipresume?” “Bynomeans.” “What! amurderousattack?” “Verymurderousindeed.” “Youhorrifyme.” I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finallycovereditoverwithcottonwaddingandcar- bolised bandages. He lay back without wincing, thoughhebithislipfromtimetotime.</s>“Howisthat?”IaskedwhenIhadfinished.</s>“Capital! Betweenyourbrandyandyourbandage, Ifeelanewman. Iwasveryweak,butIhavehada gooddealtogothrough.” “Perhapsyouhadbetternotspeakofthematter.</s>Itisevidentlytryingtoyournerves.” “Oh,no,notnow. Ishallhavetotellmytaletothe police; but, between ourselves, if it were not for the convincingevidenceofthiswoundofmine,Ishould besurprisediftheybelievedmystatement,foritisa very extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up; and, even if theybelieveme,theclueswhichIcangivethemare sovaguethatitisaquestionwhetherjusticewillbe 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.</s>SherlockHolmes,beforeyougototheofficialpolice.” “Oh, I have heard of that fellow,” answered my visitor, “and I should be very glad if he would take thematterup,thoughofcourseImustusetheofficial policeaswell. Wouldyougivemeanintroductionto him?” “I’lldobetter. I’lltakeyouroundtohimmyself.” “Ishouldbeimmenselyobligedtoyou.” “We’llcallacabandgotogether. Weshalljustbe in time to have a little breakfast with him. Do you feelequaltoit?” “Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story.” “Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be withyouinaninstant.”Irushedupstairs,explained themattershortlytomywife,andinfiveminuteswas insideahansom,drivingwithmynewacquaintance toBakerStreet.</s>Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in his dressing-gown, read- ingtheagonycolumnofTheTimesandsmokinghis before-breakfastpipe,whichwascomposedofallthe plugsanddottlesleftfromhissmokesofthedaybe- fore,allcarefullydriedandcollectedonthecornerof themantelpiece. Hereceivedusinhisquietlygenial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was concluded he set- tled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of brandy andwaterwithinhisreach.</s>“Itiseasytoseethatyourexperiencehasbeenno commonone,Mr.Hatherley,”saidhe. “Pray,liedown thereandmakeyourselfabsolutelyathome. Tellus whatyoucan,butstopwhenyouaretiredandkeep upyourstrengthwithalittlestimulant.” “Thankyou,”saidmypatient. “butIhavefeltan- othermansincethedoctorbandagedme,andIthink that your breakfast has completed the cure. I shall takeupaslittleofyourvaluabletimeaspossible,soI shallstartatonceuponmypeculiarexperiences.” Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression which veiled his keen and eagernature,whileIsatoppositetohim,andwelis- tenedinsilencetothestrangestorywhichourvisitor detailedtous.</s>“Youmustknow,”saidhe,“thatIamanorphan andabachelor,residingaloneinlodgingsinLondon.</s>By profession I am a hydraulic engineer, and I have hadconsiderableexperienceofmyworkduringthe sevenyearsthatIwasapprenticedtoVenner&Math- eson,thewell-knownfirm,ofGreenwich. Twoyears 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 andtookprofessionalchambersinVictoriaStreet.</s>“I suppose that everyone finds his first indepen- dent start in business a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. During two years I havehadthreeconsultationsandonesmalljob,andthatis absolutelyallthatmyprofessionhasbroughtme. My grosstakingsamountto£2710s. Everyday,fromnine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited inmylittleden,untilatlastmyheartbegantosink, and I came to believe that I should never have any practiceatall.</s>“Yesterday,however,justasIwasthinkingofleav- ing the office, my clerk entered to say there was a gentlemanwaitingwhowishedtoseemeuponbusi- ness. He brought up a card, too, with the name of ‘Colonel Lysander Stark’ engraved upon it. Close at hisheelscamethecolonelhimself,amanratherover the middle size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a man. His wholefacesharpenedawayintonoseandchin,and theskinofhischeekswasdrawnquitetenseoverhis outstandingbones. Yetthisemaciationseemedtobe his natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye wasbright,hisstepbrisk,andhisbearingassured. He wasplainlybutneatlydressed,andhisage,Ishould judge,wouldbenearerfortythanthirty.</s>“‘Mr. Hatherley?’ said he, with something of a Germanaccent. ‘Youhavebeenrecommendedtome, Mr.Hatherley,asbeingamanwhoisnotonlyprofi- cientinhisprofessionbutisalsodiscreetandcapable ofpreservingasecret.’ “I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man wouldatsuchanaddress. ‘MayIaskwhoitwaswho gavemesogoodacharacter?’ “‘Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell youthatjustatthismoment. Ihaveitfromthesame source that you are both an orphan and a bachelor andareresidingaloneinLondon.’ “‘Thatisquitecorrect,’Ianswered;‘butyouwill excusemeifIsaythatIcannotseehowallthisbears upon my professional qualifications. I understand thatitwasonaprofessionalmatterthatyouwished tospeaktome?’ “‘Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to the point. I have a professional com- mission for you, but absolute secrecy is quite essen- tial—absolutesecrecy,youunderstand,andofcourse we may expect that more from a man who is alone thanfromonewholivesinthebosomofhisfamily.’ “‘If I promise to keep a secret,’ said I, ‘you may absolutelydependuponmydoingso.’ “He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemedtomethatIhadneverseensosuspiciousand questioninganeye.</s>“‘Doyoupromise,then?’ saidheatlast.</s>“‘Yes,Ipromise.’ “‘Absolute and complete silence before, during, andafter? Noreferencetothematteratall,eitherin wordorwriting?’ “‘Ihavealreadygivenyoumyword.’ “‘Verygood.’ Hesuddenlysprangup,anddart- inglikelightningacrosstheroomheflungopenthe door. Thepassageoutsidewasempty.</s>“‘That’sallright,’saidhe,comingback. ‘Iknow thatclerksaresometimescuriousastotheirmaster’s affairs. Now we can talk in safety.’ He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stare at me againwiththesamequestioningandthoughtfullook.</s>“Afeelingofrepulsion,andofsomethingakinto fearhadbeguntorisewithinmeatthestrangeantics ofthisfleshlessman. Evenmydreadoflosingaclient couldnotrestrainmefromshowingmyimpatience.</s>“‘Ibegthatyouwillstateyourbusiness,sir,’said I; ‘my time is of value.’ Heaven forgive me for that lastsentence,butthewordscametomylips.</s>“‘Howwouldfiftyguineasforanight’sworksuit you?’ heasked.</s>“‘Mostadmirably.’ “‘I say a night’s work, but an hour’s would be nearer the mark. I simply want your opinion about ahydraulicstampingmachinewhichhasgotoutof gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon set it right ourselves. What do you think of such a commissionasthat?’ “‘The work appears to be light and the pay mu- nificent.’ “‘Preciselyso. Weshallwantyoutocometo-night bythelasttrain.’ “‘Whereto?’ “‘To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders of Oxfordshire, and within seven miles ofReading. ThereisatrainfromPaddingtonwhich wouldbringyouthereatabout11.15.’ “‘Verygood.’ “‘Ishallcomedowninacarriagetomeetyou.’ “‘Thereisadrive,then?’ “‘Yes,ourlittleplaceisquiteoutinthecountry. It isagoodsevenmilesfromEyfordStation.’ “‘Thenwecanhardlygettherebeforemidnight. I supposetherewouldbenochanceofatrainback. I shouldbecompelledtostopthenight.’ “‘Yes,wecouldeasilygiveyouashake-down.’ “‘Thatisveryawkward. CouldInotcomeatsome moreconvenienthour?’“‘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 veryheadsofyourprofession. Still,ofcourse,ifyou wouldliketodrawoutofthebusiness,thereisplenty oftimetodoso.’ “I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they would be to me. ‘Not at all,’ said I, ‘I shallbeveryhappytoaccommodatemyselftoyour wishes. Ishouldlike,however,tounderstandalittle moreclearlywhatitisthatyouwishmetodo.’ “‘Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecywhichwehaveexactedfromyoushouldhave aroused your curiosity. I have no wish to commit you to anything without your having it all laid be- foreyou. Isupposethatweareabsolutelysafefrom eavesdroppers?’ “‘Entirely.’ “‘Thenthematterstandsthus. Youareprobably aware that fuller’s-earth is a valuable product, and thatitisonlyfoundinoneortwoplacesinEngland?’ “‘Ihaveheardso.’ “‘SomelittletimeagoIboughtasmallplace—a verysmallplace—withintenmilesofReading. Iwas fortunateenoughtodiscoverthattherewasadeposit of fuller’s-earth in one of my fields. On examining it,however,Ifoundthatthisdepositwasacompara- tivelysmallone,andthatitformedalinkbetweentwo verymuchlargeronesupontherightandleft—both ofthem,however,inthegroundsofmyneighbours.</s>Thesegoodpeoplewereabsolutelyignorantthattheir land contained that which was quite as valuable as a gold-mine. Naturally, it wasto my interest to buy their land before they discovered its true value, but unfortunately I had no capital by which I could do this. Itookafewofmyfriendsintothesecret,how- ever,andtheysuggestedthatweshouldquietlyand secretlyworkourownlittledepositandthatinthis wayweshouldearnthemoneywhichwouldenable ustobuytheneighbouringfields. Thiswehavenow been doing for some time, and in order to help us inouroperationsweerectedahydraulicpress. This press,asIhavealreadyexplained,hasgotoutoforder, andwewishyouradviceuponthesubject. Weguard our secret very jealously, however, and if it once be- cameknownthatwehadhydraulicengineerscoming toourlittlehouse,itwouldsoonrouseinquiry,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 methatyouwillnottellahumanbeingthatyouare going to Eyford to-night. I hope that I make it all plain?’ “‘Iquitefollowyou,’saidI.‘Theonlypointwhich Icouldnotquiteunderstandwaswhatuseyoucould makeofahydraulicpressinexcavatingfuller’s-earth, which,asIunderstand,isdugoutlikegravelfroma pit.’ “‘Ah!’ said he carelessly, ‘we have our own pro- cess. 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 confidencenow,Mr.Hatherley,andIhaveshownyou howItrustyou.’ Heroseashespoke. ‘Ishallexpect you,then,atEyfordat11.15.’ “‘Ishallcertainlybethere.’ “‘And not a word to a soul.’ He looked at me withalastlong,questioninggaze,andthen,pressing myhandinacold,dankgrasp,hehurriedfromthe room.</s>“Well, when I came to think it all over in cool bloodIwasverymuchastonished,asyoumayboth 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, anditwaspossiblethatthisordermightleadtoother ones. On the other hand, the face and manner of mypatronhadmadeanunpleasantimpressionupon me,andIcouldnotthinkthathisexplanationofthe fuller’s-earth was sufficient to explain the necessity formycomingatmidnight,andhisextremeanxiety lest I should tell anyone of my errand. However, I threwallfearstothewinds,ateaheartysupper,drove toPaddington,andstartedoff,havingobeyedtothe lettertheinjunctionastoholdingmytongue.</s>“AtReadingIhadtochangenotonlymycarriage but my station. However, I was in time for the last traintoEyford,andIreachedthelittledim-litstation aftereleveno’clock. Iwastheonlypassengerwhogot out there, and there was no one upon the platform saveasinglesleepyporterwithalantern. AsIpassed out through the wicket gate, however, I found my acquaintanceofthemorningwaitingintheshadow upontheotherside. Withoutawordhegraspedmy armandhurriedmeintoacarriage,thedoorofwhich wasstandingopen. Hedrewupthewindowsonei- ther side, tapped on the wood-work, and away we wentasfastasthehorsecouldgo.” “Onehorse?”interjectedHolmes.</s>“Yes,onlyone.” “Didyouobservethecolour?”“Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was step- pingintothecarriage. Itwasachestnut.” “Tired-lookingorfresh?” “Oh,freshandglossy.” “Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you.</s>Praycontinueyourmostinterestingstatement.” “Away we went then, and we drove for at least anhour. ColonelLysanderStarkhadsaidthatitwas only seven miles, but I should think, from the rate thatweseemedtogo,andfromthetimethatwetook, 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 waslookingatmewithgreatintensity. Thecountry 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 Icouldmakeoutnothingsavetheoccasionalbright blur of a passing light. Now and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey, butthecolonelansweredonlyinmonosyllables,and theconversationsoonflagged. Atlast,however,the bumping of the road was exchanged for the crisp smoothnessofagravel-drive,andthecarriagecame to a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang out, and, asIfollowedafterhim,pulledmeswiftlyintoaporch which gaped in front of us. We stepped, as it were, right out of the carriage and into the hall, so that I failedtocatchthemostfleetingglanceofthefrontof thehouse. TheinstantthatIhadcrossedthethresh- oldthedoorslammedheavilybehindus,andIheard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage drove away.</s>“It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonelfumbledaboutlookingformatchesandmut- teringunderhisbreath. Suddenlyadooropenedat theotherendofthepassage,andalong,goldenbar oflightshotoutinourdirection. Itgrewbroader,and awomanappearedwithalampinherhand, which she held above her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us. I could see that she was pretty, andfromtheglosswithwhichthelightshoneupon herdarkdressIknewthatitwasarichmaterial. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a tone as thoughaskingaquestion,andwhenmycompanion answered in a gruff monosyllable she gave such a startthatthelampnearlyfellfromherhand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered something in her ear, and then, pushing her back into the room from whenceshehadcome,hewalkedtowardsmeagain withthelampinhishand.</s>“‘Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in thisroomforafewminutes,’saidhe,throwingopen anotherdoor. Itwasaquiet,little,plainlyfurnished room,witharoundtableinthecentre,onwhichsev- eralGermanbookswerescattered. ColonelStarklaid downthelamponthetopofaharmoniumbesidethe door. ‘I shall not keep you waiting an instant,’ said he,andvanishedintothedarkness.</s>“I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spiteofmyignoranceofGermanIcouldseethattwo of them were treatises on science, the others being volumesofpoetry. ThenIwalkedacrosstothewin- dow,hopingthatImightcatchsomeglimpseofthe country-side,butanoakshutter,heavilybarred,was folded across it. It was a wonderfully silent house.</s>Therewasanoldclocktickingloudlysomewherein the passage, but otherwise everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began to steal overme. WhoweretheseGermanpeople,andwhat weretheydoinglivinginthisstrange,out-of-the-way place? Andwherewastheplace? Iwastenmilesorso fromEyford,thatwasallIknew,butwhethernorth, south, east, or west I had no idea. For that matter, Reading,andpossiblyotherlargetowns,werewithin that radius, so the place might not be so secluded, after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute stillness,thatwewereinthecountry. Ipacedupand downtheroom,hummingatuneundermybreathto keepupmyspiritsandfeelingthatIwasthoroughly earningmyfifty-guineafee.</s>“Suddenly,withoutanypreliminarysoundinthe midst of the utter stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman was standing in theaperture,thedarknessofthehallbehindher,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 metobesilent,andsheshotafewwhisperedwords ofbrokenEnglishatme,hereyesglancingback,like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom behind her.</s>“‘Iwouldgo,’saidshe,tryinghard,asitseemed tome,tospeakcalmly;‘Iwouldgo. Ishouldnotstay here. Thereisnogoodforyoutodo.’ “‘But,madam,’saidI,‘IhavenotyetdonewhatI camefor. IcannotpossiblyleaveuntilIhaveseenthe machine.’ “‘Itisnotworthyourwhiletowait,’shewenton.</s>‘Youcanpassthroughthedoor;noonehinders.’ And then, seeing that I smiled and shook my head, she suddenlythrewasideherconstraintandmadeastepforward, with her hands wrung together. ‘For the loveofHeaven!’ shewhispered,‘getawayfromhere beforeitistoolate!’ “But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to engage in an affair when there is someobstacleintheway. Ithoughtofmyfifty-guinea fee,ofmywearisomejourney,andoftheunpleasant night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to go for nothing? Why should I slink away without havingcarriedoutmycommission,andwithoutthe payment which was my due? This woman might, for all I knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout bear- ing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I cared to confess, I still shook my head anddeclaredmyintentionofremainingwhereIwas.</s>She was about to renew her entreaties when a door slammedoverhead,andthesoundofseveralfootsteps washearduponthestairs. Shelistenedforaninstant, threw up her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and as noiselessly as she had come.</s>“ThenewcomerswereColonelLysanderStarkand ashortthickmanwithachinchillabeardgrowingout ofthecreasesofhisdoublechin,whowasintroduced tomeasMr.Ferguson.</s>“‘This is my secretary and manager,’ said the colonel. ‘By the way, I was under the impression thatIleftthisdoorshutjustnow. Ifearthatyouhave feltthedraught.’ “‘Onthecontrary,’saidI,‘Iopenedthedoormy- selfbecauseIfelttheroomtobealittleclose.’ “Heshotoneofhissuspiciouslooksatme. ‘Per- haps we had better proceed to business, then,’ said he. ‘Mr. Ferguson and I will take you up to see the machine.’ “‘Ihadbetterputmyhaton,Isuppose.’ “‘Oh,no,itisinthehouse.’ “‘What,youdigfuller’s-earthinthehouse?’ “‘No,no. Thisisonlywherewecompressit. But nevermindthat. Allwewishyoutodoistoexamine themachineandtoletusknowwhatiswrongwith it.’ “Wewentupstairstogether,thecolonelfirstwith the lamp, the fat manager and I behind him. It was alabyrinthofanoldhouse,withcorridors,passages, narrow winding staircases, and little low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the gen- erations who had crossed them. There were no car- petsandnosignsofanyfurnitureabovetheground floor,whiletheplasterwaspeelingoffthewalls,and thedampwasbreakingthroughingreen,unhealthy blotches. I tried to put on as unconcerned an air as possible,butIhadnotforgottenthewarningsofthe lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen eye upon my two companions. Ferguson ap- peared 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.</s>“ColonelLysanderStarkstoppedatlastbeforea low door, which he unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three of us could hardly getatonetime. Fergusonremainedoutside,andthe colonelusheredmein.</s>“‘We are now,’ said he, ‘actually within the hy- draulicpress,anditwouldbeaparticularlyunpleas- ant thing for us if anyone were to turn it on. The ceilingofthissmallchamberisreallytheendofthe descendingpiston,anditcomesdownwiththeforce ofmanytonsuponthismetalfloor. Therearesmall lateral columns of water outside which receive the force,andwhichtransmitandmultiplyitintheman- nerwhichisfamiliartoyou. Themachinegoesreadily enough,butthereissomestiffnessintheworkingof it,andithaslostalittleofitsforce. Perhapsyouwill havethegoodnesstolookitoverandtoshowushow wecansetitright.’ “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.</s>WhenIpassedoutside,however,andpresseddown theleverswhichcontrolledit,Iknewatoncebythe whishingsoundthattherewasaslightleakage,which allowedaregurgitationofwaterthroughoneofthe side cylinders. An examination showed that one of theindia-rubberbandswhichwasroundtheheadof a driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to fill the socket along which it worked. This was clearly the causeofthelossofpower,andIpointeditouttomy companions,whofollowedmyremarksverycarefully andaskedseveralpracticalquestionsastohowthey should proceed to set it right. When I had made it cleartothem,Ireturnedtothemainchamberofthe machineandtookagoodlookatittosatisfymyown 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 enginecouldbedesignedforsoinadequateapurpose.</s>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 whatitwaswhenIheardamutteredexclamationinGerman and saw the cadaverous face of the colonel lookingdownatme.</s>“‘Whatareyoudoingthere?’ heasked.</s>“Ifeltangryathavingbeentrickedbysoelaborate astoryasthatwhichhehadtoldme. ‘Iwasadmiring your fuller’s-earth,’ said I; ‘I think that I should be betterabletoadviseyouastoyourmachineifIknew whattheexactpurposewasforwhichitwasused.’ “The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of my speech. His face set hard, and a balefullightsprangupinhisgreyeyes.</s>“‘Very well,’ said he, ‘you shall know all about themachine.’ Hetookastepbackward,slammedthe little door, and turned the key in the lock. I rushed towardsitandpulledatthehandle,butitwasquite secure,anddidnotgiveintheleasttomykicksand shoves. ‘Hullo!’ I yelled. ‘Hullo! Colonel! Let me out!’ “AndthensuddenlyinthesilenceIheardasound whichsentmyheartintomymouth. Itwastheclank oftheleversandtheswishoftheleakingcylinder. He hadsettheengineatwork. Thelampstillstoodupon thefloorwhereIhadplaceditwhenexaminingthe trough. By its light I saw that the black ceiling was comingdownuponme, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than myself, with a force which must withinaminutegrindmetoashapelesspulp. Ithrew myself, screaming, against the door, and dragged with my nails at the lock. I implored the colonel to letmeout,buttheremorselessclankingofthelevers drownedmycries. Theceilingwasonlyafootortwo abovemyhead,andwithmyhandupraisedIcould feelitshard,roughsurface. Thenitflashedthrough my mind that the pain of my death would depend verymuchuponthepositioninwhichImetit. IfIlay on my face the weight would come upon my spine, andIshudderedtothinkofthatdreadfulsnap. Easier theotherway,perhaps;andyet,hadIthenervetolie and look up at that deadly black shadow wavering downuponme? AlreadyIwasunabletostanderect, whenmyeyecaughtsomethingwhichbroughtagush ofhopebacktomyheart.</s>“Ihavesaidthatthoughthefloorandceilingwere ofiron,thewallswereofwood. AsIgavealasthur- ried 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.</s>For an instant I could hardly believe that here was indeedadoorwhichledawayfromdeath. Thenext instantIthrewmyselfthrough,andlayhalf-fainting upon the other side. The panel had closed again behindme,butthecrashofthelamp,andafewmo- mentsafterwardstheclangofthetwoslabsofmetal, toldmehownarrowhadbeenmyescape.</s>“Iwasrecalledtomyselfbyafranticpluckingat my wrist, and I found myself lying upon the stone floorofanarrowcorridor,whileawomanbentover me and tugged at me with her left hand, while she heldacandleinherright. Itwasthesamegoodfriend whosewarningIhadsofoolishlyrejected.</s>“‘Come! come!’ shecriedbreathlessly. ‘Theywill behereinamoment. Theywillseethatyouarenot there. Oh, do not waste the so-precious time, but come!’ “This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice.</s>I staggered to my feet and ran with her along the corridoranddownawindingstair. Thelatterledto anotherbroadpassage,andjustaswereacheditwe heardthesoundofrunningfeetandtheshoutingof twovoices,oneansweringtheotherfromtheflooron whichwewereandfromtheonebeneath. Myguide stoppedandlookedaboutherlikeonewhoisather wit’send. Thenshethrewopenadoorwhichledinto abedroom,throughthewindowofwhichthemoon wasshiningbrightly.</s>“‘Itisyouronlychance,’saidshe. ‘Itishigh,but itmaybethatyoucanjumpit.’ “Asshespokealightsprangintoviewatthefur- ther 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, flungopenthewindow,andlookedout. Howquiet andsweetandwholesomethegardenlookedinthe moonlight,anditcouldnotbemorethanthirtyfeet down. Iclamberedoutuponthesill,butIhesitatedto jumpuntilIshouldhaveheardwhatpassedbetween 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 flashedthroughmymindbeforehewasatthedoor, pushing his way past her; but she threw her arms roundhimandtriedtoholdhimback.</s>“‘Fritz! Fritz!’ she cried in English, ‘remember your promise after the last time. You said it should notbeagain. Hewillbesilent! Oh,hewillbesilent!’ “‘You are mad, Elise!’ he shouted, struggling to breakawayfromher. ‘Youwillbetheruinofus. He has seen too much. Let me pass, I say!’ He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the window, cut at mewithhisheavyweapon. Ihadletmyselfgo,and washangingbythehandstothesill,whenhisblowfell. Iwasconsciousofadullpain,mygriploosened, andIfellintothegardenbelow.</s>“Iwasshakenbutnothurtbythefall;soIpicked myselfupandrushedoffamongthebushesashard 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.</s>I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and then, for the first time, saw that my thumbhadbeencutoffandthatthebloodwaspour- ingfrommywound. Iendeavouredtotiemyhand- kerchief round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint amongtherose-bushes.</s>“HowlongIremainedunconsciousIcannottell.</s>It must have been a very long time, for the moon hadsunk,andabrightmorningwasbreakingwhenI cametomyself. Myclotheswereallsoddenwithdew, and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded thumb. The smarting of it recalled in aninstantalltheparticularsofmynight’sadventure, andIsprangtomyfeetwiththefeelingthatImight hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But to my as- tonishment, whenIcametolookroundme,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 sta- tionatwhichIhadarriveduponthepreviousnight.</s>Were it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed during those dreadful hours might havebeenanevildream.</s>“Half dazed, I went into the station and asked aboutthemorningtrain. TherewouldbeonetoRead- ing in less than an hour. The same porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I arrived. I inquiredofhimwhetherhehadeverheardofColonel LysanderStark. Thenamewasstrangetohim. Had he observed a carriage the night before waiting for me? No,hehadnot. Wasthereapolice-stationany- wherenear? Therewasoneaboutthreemilesoff.</s>“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 wounddressed,andthenthedoctorwaskindenough tobringmealonghere. Iputthecaseintoyourhands andshalldoexactlywhatyouadvise.” We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to this extraordinary narrative. Then Sher- lock Holmes pulled down from the shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he placed hiscuttings.</s>“Hereisanadvertisementwhichwillinterestyou,” said he. “It appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listentothis: “‘Lost, on the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged twenty-six, a hydraulic engi- neer. Lefthislodgingsatteno’clockatnight, 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 explainswhatthegirlsaid.” “Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and desperate man, who was absolutely determinedthatnothingshouldstandinthewayof 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 toitweshallgodowntoScotlandYardatonceasa preliminarytostartingforEyford.” Somethreehoursorsoafterwardswewereallin the train together, bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village. There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulicengineer,InspectorBradstreet,ofScotland Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself. Bradstreet hadspreadanordnancemapofthecountyoutupon theseatandwasbusywithhiscompassesdrawinga circlewithEyfordforitscentre.</s>“Thereyouare,”saidhe. “Thatcircleisdrawnat aradiusoftenmilesfromthevillage. Theplacewe wantmustbesomewherenearthatline. Yousaidten miles,Ithink,sir.” “Itwasanhour’sgooddrive.” “And you think that they brought you back all thatwaywhenyouwereunconscious?” “Theymusthavedoneso. Ihaveaconfusedmem- ory, too, of having been lifted and conveyed some- where.” “WhatIcannotunderstand,”saidI,“iswhythey shouldhavesparedyouwhentheyfoundyoulying fainting in the garden. Perhaps the villain was soft- enedbythewoman’sentreaties.” “I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorablefaceinmylife.” “Oh, we shall soon clear up all that,” said Brad- street. “Well,Ihavedrawnmycircle,andIonlywish Iknewatwhatpointuponitthefolkthatwearein searchofaretobefound.”“IthinkIcouldlaymyfingeronit,”saidHolmes quietly.</s>“Really, now!” cried the inspector, “you have formedyouropinion! Come,now,weshallseewho agrees with you. I say it is south, for the country is moredesertedthere.” “AndIsayeast,”saidmypatient.</s>“Iamforwest,”remarkedtheplain-clothesman.</s>“Thereareseveralquietlittlevillagesupthere.” “AndIamfornorth,”saidI,“becausethereareno hillsthere,andourfriendsaysthathedidnotnotice thecarriagegoupany.” “Come,”criedtheinspector,laughing;“it’savery prettydiversityofopinion. Wehaveboxedthecom- pass among us. Who do you give your casting vote to?” “Youareallwrong.” “Butwecan’tallbe.” “Oh, yes, you can. This is my point.” He placed his finger in the centre of the circle. “This is where weshallfindthem.” “Butthetwelve-miledrive?”gaspedHatherley.</s>“Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the horse was fresh and glossy when yougotin. Howcoulditbethatifithadgonetwelve milesoverheavyroads?” “Indeed,itisalikelyruseenough,”observedBrad- streetthoughtfully. “Ofcoursetherecanbenodoubt astothenatureofthisgang.” “Noneatall,”saidHolmes. “Theyarecoinerson alargescale,andhaveusedthemachinetoformthe amalgamwhichhastakentheplaceofsilver.” “Wehaveknownforsometimethataclevergang was at work,” said the inspector. “They have been turning out half-crowns by the thousand. We even tracedthemasfarasReading,butcouldgetnofarther, fortheyhadcoveredtheirtracesinawaythatshowed that they were very old hands. But now, thanks to thisluckychance,Ithinkthatwehavegotthemright enough.” But the inspector was mistaken, for those crimi- nalswerenotdestinedtofallintothehandsofjustice.</s>As we rolled into Eyford Station we saw a gigantic columnofsmokewhichstreamedupfrombehinda smallclumpoftreesintheneighbourhoodandhung likeanimmenseostrichfeatheroverthelandscape.</s>“A house on fire?” asked Bradstreet as the train steamedoffagainonitsway.</s>“Yes,sir!”saidthestation-master.</s>“Whendiditbreakout?” “Ihearthatitwasduringthenight,sir,butithas gotworse,andthewholeplaceisinablaze.” “Whosehouseisit?” “Dr.Becher’s.” “Tellme,”brokeintheengineer,“isDr.Bechera German,verythin,withalong,sharpnose?” Thestation-masterlaughedheartily. “No,sir,Dr.</s>BecherisanEnglishman,andthereisn’tamaninthe parish who has a better-lined waistcoat. But he has agentlemanstayingwithhim, apatient, asIunder- stand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as if a little goodBerkshirebeefwoulddohimnoharm.” 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 inthegardeninfrontthreefire-engineswerevainly strivingtokeeptheflamesunder.</s>“That’sit!”criedHatherley,inintenseexcitement.</s>“There is the gravel-drive, and there are the rose- bushes where I lay. That second window is the one thatIjumpedfrom.” “Well,atleast,”saidHolmes,“youhavehadyour revengeuponthem. Therecanbenoquestionthatit wasyouroil-lampwhich,whenitwascrushedinthe press,setfiretothewoodenwalls,thoughnodoubt theyweretooexcitedinthechaseafteryoutoobserve itatthetime. Nowkeepyoureyesopeninthiscrowd foryourfriendsoflastnight,thoughIverymuchfear thattheyareagoodhundredmilesoffbynow.” AndHolmes’fearscametoberealised, forfrom 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 verybulkyboxesdrivingrapidlyinthedirectionof Reading, but there all traces of the fugitives disap- peared, and even Holmes’ ingenuity failed ever to discovertheleastclueastotheirwhereabouts.</s>The firemen had been much perturbed at the strangearrangementswhichtheyhadfoundwithin, andstillmoresobydiscoveringanewlyseveredhu- man thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor.</s>Aboutsunset,however,theireffortswereatlastsuc- cessful,andtheysubduedtheflames,butnotbefore the roof had fallen in, and the whole place been re- ducedtosuchabsoluteruinthat,savesometwisted cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained ofthe machinery which had cost our unfortunate ac- quaintance 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 alreadyreferredto.</s>Howourhydraulicengineerhadbeenconveyed from the garden to the spot where he recovered his sensesmighthaveremainedforeveramysterywere itnotforthesoftmould,whichtoldusaveryplain tale. Hehadevidentlybeencarrieddownbytwoper- sons,oneofwhomhadremarkablysmallfeetandthe otherunusuallylargeones. Onthewhole,itwasmost probablethatthesilentEnglishman,beinglessbold orlessmurderousthanhiscompanion,hadassisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out of the wayofdanger.</s>“Well,”saidourengineerruefullyaswetookour seats to return once more to London, “it has been a pretty business for me! I have lost my thumb and I havelostafifty-guineafee,andwhathaveIgained?” “Experience,”saidHolmes,laughing. “Indirectly itmaybeofvalue,youknow;youhaveonlytoputit into words to gain the reputation of being excellent companyfortheremainderofyourexistence.”he Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curi- ous termination, have long ceased to be a subjectofinterestinthoseexaltedcirclesin T whichtheunfortunatebridegroommoves.</s>Fresh scandals have eclipsed it, and their more pi- quantdetailshavedrawnthegossipsawayfromthis four-year-olddrama. AsIhavereasontobelieve,how- ever,thatthefullfactshaveneverbeenrevealedtothe generalpublic,andasmyfriendSherlockHolmeshad aconsiderableshareinclearingthematterup,Ifeel that no memoir of him would be complete without somelittlesketchofthisremarkableepisode.</s>Itwasafewweeksbeforemyownmarriage,dur- ing the days when I was still sharing rooms with HolmesinBakerStreet,thathecamehomefroman afternoonstrolltofindaletteronthetablewaitingfor him. Ihadremainedindoorsallday,fortheweather had taken a sudden turn to rain, with high autum- nalwinds,andtheJezailbulletwhichIhadbrought back in one of my limbs as a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence. With my bodyinoneeasy-chairandmylegsuponanother,I hadsurroundedmyselfwithacloudofnewspapers 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 thetableandwonderinglazilywhomyfriend’snoble correspondentcouldbe.</s>“Here is a very fashionable epistle,” I remarked as he entered. “Your morning letters, if I remember right,werefromafish-mongerandatide-waiter.” “Yes,mycorrespondencehascertainlythecharm ofvariety,”heanswered,smiling,“andthehumbler areusuallythemoreinteresting. Thislookslikeoneof thoseunwelcomesocialsummonseswhichcallupon amaneithertobeboredortolie.” Hebrokethesealandglancedoverthecontents.</s>“Oh,come,itmayprovetobesomethingofinter- est,afterall.” “Notsocial,then?” “No,distinctlyprofessional.” “Andfromanobleclient?” “OneofthehighestinEngland.” “Mydearfellow,Icongratulateyou.” “I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that thestatusofmyclientisamatteroflessmomentto me than the interest of his case. It is just possible, however, that that also may not be wanting in this newinvestigation. Youhavebeenreadingthepapers diligentlyoflate,haveyounot?” “Itlookslikeit,”saidIruefully,pointingtoahuge bundleinthecorner. “Ihavehadnothingelsetodo.” “It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to postmeup. Ireadnothingexceptthecriminalnews and the agony column. The latter is always instruc- tive. Butifyouhavefollowedrecenteventssoclosely you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his wedding?” “Oh,yes,withthedeepestinterest.” “Thatiswell. TheletterwhichIholdinmyhand is from Lord St. Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn over these papers and let me havewhateverbearsuponthematter. Thisiswhathe says: “‘MydearMr.SherlockHolmes: “‘Lord Backwater tells me that I may place implicit reliance upon your judg- ment and discretion. I have determined, therefore,tocalluponyouandtoconsult youinreferencetotheverypainfulevent whichhasoccurredinconnectionwithmy wedding. Mr.Lestrade,ofScotlandYard, is acting already in the matter, but he as- suresmethatheseesnoobjectiontoyour co-operation,andthatheeventhinksthat itmightbeofsomeassistance. Iwillcallat fouro’clockintheafternoon,and,should you have any other engagement at that time,Ihopethatyouwillpostponeit,as thismatterisofparamountimportance.</s>—“‘Yoursfaithfully, “‘St.Simon.’ “It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written withaquillpen,andthenoblelordhashadthemis- fortune to get a smear of ink upon the outer side of hisrightlittlefinger,”remarkedHolmesashefolded uptheepistle.</s>“Hesaysfouro’clock. Itisthreenow. Hewillbe hereinanhour.” “Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon the subject. Turn over those papers andarrangetheextractsintheirorderoftime,while Itakeaglanceastowhoourclientis.”Hepickeda red-coveredvolumefromalineofbooksofreference besidethemantelpiece. “Hereheis,”saidhe,sitting down and flattening it out upon his knee. “‘Lord RobertWalsinghamdeVereSt.Simon,secondsonof the Duke of Balmoral.’ Hum! ‘Arms: Azure, three caltropsinchiefoverafesssable. Bornin1846.’ He’s forty-oneyearsofage,whichismatureformarriage.WasUnder-Secretaryforthecoloniesinalateadmin- istration. The Duke, his father, was at one time Sec- retary for Foreign Affairs. They inherit Plantagenet bloodbydirectdescent,andTudoronthedistaffside.</s>Ha! Well,thereisnothingveryinstructiveinallthis.</s>IthinkthatImustturntoyouWatson,forsomething moresolid.” “IhaveverylittledifficultyinfindingwhatIwant,” saidI,“forthefactsarequiterecent,andthematter struckmeasremarkable. Ifearedtoreferthemtoyou, however,asIknewthatyouhadaninquiryonhand andthatyoudislikedtheintrusionofothermatters.” “Oh,youmeanthelittleproblemoftheGrosvenor Square furniture van. That is quite cleared up now—though, indeed, it was obvious from the first.</s>Pray give me the results of your newspaper selec- tions.” “Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal column of the MorningPost, and dates, asyousee,someweeksback: “‘Amarriagehasbeenarranged[itsays]and will, if rumour is correct, very shortly take place,betweenLordRobertSt.Simon,second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty Doran, the only daughter of Aloysius Doran.</s>Esq.,ofSanFrancisco,Cal.,U.S.A.’ Thatisall.” “Terse and to the point,” remarked Holmes, stretchinghislong,thinlegstowardsthefire.</s>“Therewasaparagraphamplifyingthisinoneof thesocietypapersofthesameweek. Ah,hereitis: “‘There will soon be a call for protection in themarriagemarket,forthepresentfree-trade principle appears to tell heavily against our home product. One by one the management of the noble houses of Great Britain is pass- ing 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 mar- riagewithMissHattyDoran,thefascinating daughterofaCaliforniamillionaire. MissDo- ran,whosegracefulfigureandstrikingfaceat- tractedmuchattentionattheWestburyHouse festivities,isanonlychild,anditiscurrently reported that her dowry will run to consider- ablyoverthesixfigures,withexpectanciesfor 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 obvi- ousthattheCalifornianheiressisnottheonly gainerbyanalliancewhichwillenableherto make the easy and common transition from a RepublicanladytoaBritishpeeress.’” “Anythingelse?”askedHolmes,yawning.</s>“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.</s>George’s,HanoverSquare,thatonlyhalfadozenin- timate friends would be invited, and that the party wouldreturntothefurnishedhouseatLancasterGate which has been taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days later—that is, on Wednesday last—there is a curtannouncementthattheweddinghadtakenplace, and that the honeymoon would be passed at Lord Backwater’splace,nearPetersfield. Thoseareallthe noticeswhichappearedbeforethedisappearanceof thebride.” “Beforethewhat?”askedHolmeswithastart.</s>“Thevanishingofthelady.” “Whendidshevanish,then?” “Attheweddingbreakfast.” “Indeed. Thisismoreinterestingthanitpromised tobe;quitedramatic,infact.” “Yes;itstruckmeasbeingalittleoutofthecom- mon.” “Theyoftenvanishbeforetheceremony,andocca- sionallyduring thehoneymoon; butI cannotcall to mind anything quite so prompt as this. Pray let me havethedetails.” “Iwarnyouthattheyareveryincomplete.” “Perhapswemaymakethemlessso.” “Such as they are, they are set forth in a single articleofamorningpaperofyesterday,whichIwill read to you. It is headed, ‘Singular Occurrence at a FashionableWedding’: “‘The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has beenthrownintothegreatestconsternationby the strange and painful episodes which have taken place in connection with his wedding.</s>The ceremony, as shortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the previous morning; but it is only now that it has been possibletoconfirmthestrangerumourswhich have been so persistently floating about. In spiteoftheattemptsofthefriendstohushthematter up, so much public attention has now been drawn to it that no good purpose can be servedbyaffectingtodisregardwhatisacom- monsubjectforconversation.</s>“‘The ceremony, which was performed at St.</s>George’s, Hanover Square, was a very quiet one, no one being present save the father of thebride,Mr.AloysiusDoran,theDuchessof Balmoral, Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (the younger brother andsisterofthebridegroom),andLadyAlicia Whittington. The whole party proceeded af- terwardstothehouseofMr.AloysiusDoran, at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had been prepared. It appears that some little trouble wascausedbyawoman,whosenamehasnot 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 un- pleasant interruption, had sat down to break- fast with the rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition and retired to her room.</s>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 ul- sterandbonnet,andhurrieddowntothepas- sage. Oneofthefootmendeclaredthathehad seen a lady leave the house thus apparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his mis- tress, believing her to be with the company.</s>On ascertaining that his daughter had disap- peared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction withthebridegroom,instantlyputthemselves in communication with the police, and very energeticinquiriesarebeingmade,whichwill probablyresultinaspeedyclearingupofthis verysingularbusiness. Uptoalatehourlast 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 ar- rest of the woman who had caused the origi- nal disturbance, in the belief that, from jeal- ousyorsomeothermotive,shemayhavebeen concernedinthestrangedisappearanceofthe bride.’” “Andisthatall?” “Only one little item in another of the morning papers,butitisasuggestiveone.” “Anditis—” “ThatMissFloraMillar,theladywhohadcaused thedisturbance,hasactuallybeenarrested. Itappears thatshewasformerlyadanseuseattheAllegro, and that she has known the bridegroom for some years.</s>Therearenofurtherparticulars,andthewholecase isinyourhandsnow—sofarasithasbeensetforth inthepublicpress.” “Andanexceedinglyinterestingcaseitappearsto be. Iwouldnothavemisseditforworlds. Butthereis aringatthebell,Watson,andastheclockmakesita fewminutesafterfour,Ihavenodoubtthatthiswill provetobeournobleclient. Donotdreamofgoing, Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness, if onlyasachecktomyownmemory.” “LordRobertSt.Simon,”announcedourpage-boy, throwingopenthedoor. Agentlemanentered,with apleasant,culturedface,high-nosedandpale,with something perhaps of petulance about the mouth, andwiththesteady,well-openedeyeofamanwhose pleasant lot it had ever been to command and to be obeyed. His manner was brisk, and yet his general appearancegaveanundueimpressionofage,forhe had a slight forward stoop and a little bend of the knees as he walked. His hair, too, as he swept off hisverycurly-brimmedhat,wasgrizzledroundthe edgesandthinuponthetop. Astohisdress,itwas careful to the verge of foppishness, with high col- lar, black frock-coat, white waistcoat, yellow gloves, patent-leather shoes, and light-coloured gaiters. He advancedslowlyintotheroom,turninghisheadfrom lefttoright,andswinginginhisrighthandthecord whichheldhisgoldeneyeglasses.</s>“Good-day,LordSt.Simon,”saidHolmes,rising andbowing. “Praytakethebasket-chair. Thisismy friendandcolleague,Dr.Watson. Drawupalittleto thefire,andwewilltalkthismatterover.” “A most painful matter to me, as you can most readilyimagine,Mr.Holmes. Ihavebeencuttothe quick. Iunderstandthatyouhavealreadymanaged several delicate cases of this sort, sir, though I pre- sume that they were hardly from the same class of society.” “No,Iamdescending.” “Ibegpardon.” “Mylastclientofthesortwasaking.” “Oh,really! Ihadnoidea. Andwhichking?” “TheKingofScandinavia.” “What! Hadhelosthiswife?”“Youcanunderstand,”saidHolmessuavely,“that I extend to the affairs of my other clients the same secrecywhichIpromisetoyouinyours.” “Ofcourse! Veryright! veryright! I’msureIbeg pardon. As to my own case, I am ready to give you anyinformationwhichmayassistyouinformingan opinion.” “Thank you. I have already learned all that is in thepublicprints,nothingmore. IpresumethatImay takeitascorrect—thisarticle,forexample,astothe disappearanceofthebride.” LordSt.Simonglancedoverit. “Yes,itiscorrect, asfarasitgoes.” “Butitneedsagreatdealofsupplementingbefore anyone could offer an opinion. I think that I may arriveatmyfactsmostdirectlybyquestioningyou.” “Praydoso.” “WhendidyoufirstmeetMissHattyDoran?” “InSanFrancisco,ayearago.” “YouweretravellingintheStates?” “Yes.” “Didyoubecomeengagedthen?” “No.” “Butyouwereonafriendlyfooting?” “I was amused by her society, and she could see thatIwasamused.” “Herfatherisveryrich?” “He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope.” “Andhowdidhemakehismoney?” “Inmining. Hehadnothingafewyearsago. Then hestruckgold,investedit,andcameupbyleapsand bounds.” “Now, what is your own impression as to the younglady’s—yourwife’scharacter?” Thenoblemanswunghisglassesalittlefasterand stared down into the fire. “You see, Mr. Holmes,” said he, “my wife was twenty before her father be- came a rich man. During that time she ran free in a miningcampandwanderedthroughwoodsormoun- tains, so that her education has come from Nature rather than from the schoolmaster. She is what we callinEnglandatomboy,withastrongnature,wild and free, unfettered by any sort of traditions. She is impetuous—volcanic, I was about to say. She is swiftinmakinguphermindandfearlessincarrying outherresolutions. Ontheotherhand,Iwouldnot have given her the name which I have the honour to bear”—he gave a little stately cough—“had not I thoughthertobeatbottomanoblewoman. Ibelieve that she is capable of heroic self-sacrifice and that anythingdishonourablewouldberepugnanttoher.” “Haveyouherphotograph?” “Ibroughtthiswithme.”Heopenedalocketand 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 lus- trousblackhair,thelargedarkeyes,andtheexquisite mouth. Holmesgazedlongandearnestlyatit. Then he closed the locket and handed it back to Lord St.</s>Simon.</s>“TheyoungladycametoLondon,then,andyou renewedyouracquaintance?” “Yes,herfatherbroughtheroverforthislastLon- donseason. Imetherseveraltimes,becameengaged toher,andhavenowmarriedher.” “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 marriageisafaitaccompli?” “Ireallyhavemadenoinquiriesonthesubject.” “Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on thedaybeforethewedding?” “Yes.” “Wassheingoodspirits?” “Neverbetter. Shekepttalkingofwhatweshould doinourfuturelives.” “Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morningofthewedding?” “Shewasasbrightaspossible—atleastuntilafter theceremony.” “Anddidyouobserveanychangeinherthen?” “Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs thatIhadeverseenthathertemperwasjustalittle sharp. Theincidenthowever,wastootrivialtorelate andcanhavenopossiblebearinguponthecase.” “Prayletushaveit,forallthat.” “Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as wewenttowardsthevestry. Shewaspassingthefront pewatthetime, anditfelloverintothepew. There wasamoment’sdelay,butthegentlemaninthepew handedituptoheragain,anditdidnotappeartobe theworseforthefall. YetwhenIspoketoherofthe matter,sheansweredmeabruptly;andinthecarriage, onourwayhome,sheseemedabsurdlyagitatedover thistriflingcause.”“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 thechurchisopen.” “This gentleman was not one of your wife’s friends?” “No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but hewasquiteacommon-lookingperson. Ihardlyno- ticed his appearance. But really I think that we are wanderingratherfarfromthepoint.” “LadySt.Simon,then,returnedfromthewedding in a less cheerful frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do on re-entering her father’s house?” “Isawherinconversationwithhermaid.” “Andwhoishermaid?” “Aliceishername. SheisanAmericanandcame fromCaliforniawithher.” “Aconfidentialservant?” “A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed her to take great liberties. Still, of course,inAmericatheylookuponthesethingsina differentway.” “HowlongdidshespeaktothisAlice?” “Oh,afewminutes. Ihadsomethingelsetothink of.” “Youdidnotoverhearwhattheysaid?” “LadySt.Simonsaidsomethingabout‘jumpinga claim.’ Shewasaccustomedtouseslangofthekind.</s>Ihavenoideawhatshemeant.” “American slang is very expressive sometimes.</s>Andwhatdidyourwifedowhenshefinishedspeak- ingtohermaid?” “Shewalkedintothebreakfast-room.” “Onyourarm?” “No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that. Then, after we had sat down for tenminutesorso,sherosehurriedly,mutteredsome wordsofapology,andlefttheroom. Shenevercame back.” “But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes thatshewenttoherroom,coveredherbride’sdress withalongulster,putonabonnet,andwentout.” “Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walk- ing into Hyde Park in company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who had al- readymadeadisturbanceatMr.Doran’shousethat morning.” “Ah,yes. Ishouldlikeafewparticularsastothis younglady,andyourrelationstoher.” LordSt.Simonshruggedhisshouldersandraised his eyebrows. “We have been on a friendly footing for some years—I may say on a very friendly foot- ing. SheusedtobeattheAllegro. Ihavenottreated herungenerously,andshehadnojustcauseofcom- plaintagainstme,butyouknowwhatwomenare,Mr.</s>Holmes. Florawasadearlittlething,butexceedingly hot-headedanddevotedlyattachedtome. Shewrote medreadfulletterswhensheheardthatIwasabout 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.</s>ShecametoMr.Doran’sdoorjustafterwereturned, and she endeavoured to push her way in, uttering veryabusiveexpressionstowardsmywife,andeven threateningher,butIhadforeseenthepossibilityof something of the sort, and I had two police fellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out again. Shewasquietwhenshesawthattherewasno goodinmakingarow.” “Didyourwifehearallthis?” “No,thankgoodness,shedidnot.” “Andshewasseenwalkingwiththisverywoman afterwards?” “Yes. ThatiswhatMr.Lestrade,ofScotlandYard, looks upon as so serious. It is thought that Flora decoyedmywifeoutandlaidsometerribletrapfor her.” “Well,itisapossiblesupposition.” “Youthinkso,too?” “I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourselflookuponthisaslikely?” “IdonotthinkFlorawouldhurtafly.” “Still,jealousyisastrangetransformerofcharac- ters. Pray what is your own theory as to what took place?” “Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to pro- poundone. Ihavegivenyouallthefacts. Sinceyou ask me, however, I may say that it has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of this affair, the consciousnessthatshehadmadesoimmenseasocial stride, had the effect of causing some little nervous disturbanceinmywife.” “In short, that she had become suddenly de- ranged?”“Well,really,whenIconsiderthatshehasturned herback—Iwillnotsayuponme,butuponsomuch that many have aspired to without success—I can hardlyexplainitinanyotherfashion.” “Well,certainlythatisalsoaconceivablehypoth- esis,” said Holmes, smiling. “And now, Lord St. Si- mon,IthinkthatIhavenearlyallmydata. MayIask whetheryouwereseatedatthebreakfast-tablesothat youcouldseeoutofthewindow?” “Wecouldseetheothersideoftheroadandthe Park.” “Quiteso. ThenIdonotthinkthatIneedtodetain youlonger. Ishallcommunicatewithyou.” “Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem,”saidourclient,rising.</s>“Ihavesolvedit.” “Eh? Whatwasthat?” “IsaythatIhavesolvedit.” “Where,then,ismywife?” “ThatisadetailwhichIshallspeedilysupply.” LordSt.Simonshookhishead. “Iamafraidthat it will take wiser heads than yours or mine,” he re- marked,andbowinginastately,old-fashionedman- nerhedeparted.</s>“ItisverygoodofLordSt.Simontohonourmy head by putting it on a level with his own,” said SherlockHolmes,laughing. “IthinkthatIshallhave a whisky and soda and a cigar after all this cross- questioning. Ihad formed myconclusions as tothe casebeforeourclientcameintotheroom.” “MydearHolmes!” “Ihavenotesofseveralsimilarcases,thoughnone, as I remarked before, which were quite as prompt.</s>Mywholeexaminationservedtoturnmyconjecture intoacertainty. Circumstantialevidenceisoccasion- allyveryconvincing,aswhenyoufindatroutinthe milk,toquoteThoreau’sexample.” “ButIhaveheardallthatyouhaveheard.” “Without,however,theknowledgeofpre-existing caseswhichservesmesowell. Therewasaparallel instanceinAberdeensomeyearsback,andsomething onverymuchthesamelinesatMunichtheyearafter theFranco-PrussianWar. Itisoneofthesecases—but, hullo, here is Lestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade! You will find an extra tumbler upon the sideboard, andtherearecigarsinthebox.” The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket andcravat,whichgavehimadecidedlynauticalap- pearance, and he carried a black canvas bag in his hand. Withashortgreetingheseatedhimselfandlit thecigarwhichhadbeenofferedtohim.</s>“What’sup,then?”askedHolmeswithatwinkle inhiseye. “Youlookdissatisfied.” “AndIfeeldissatisfied. ItisthisinfernalSt.Simon marriagecase. Icanmakeneitherheadnortailofthe business.” “Really! Yousurpriseme.” “Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clueseemstoslipthroughmyfingers. Ihavebeenat workuponitallday.” “Andverywetitseemstohavemadeyou,”said Holmes laying his hand upon the arm of the pea- jacket.</s>“Yes,IhavebeendraggingtheSerpentine.” “Inheaven’sname,whatfor?” “InsearchofthebodyofLadySt.Simon.” Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughedheartily.</s>“HaveyoudraggedthebasinofTrafalgarSquare fountain?”heasked.</s>“Why? Whatdoyoumean?” “Becauseyouhavejustasgoodachanceoffinding thisladyintheoneasintheother.” Lestradeshotanangryglanceatmycompanion.</s>“Isupposeyouknowallaboutit,”hesnarled.</s>“Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mindismadeup.” “Oh,indeed! ThenyouthinkthattheSerpentine playsnopartinthematter?” “Ithinkitveryunlikely.” “Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found this in it?” He opened his bag as he spoke,andtumbledontothefloorawedding-dressof wateredsilk,apairofwhitesatinshoesandabride’s wreathandveil,alldiscolouredandsoakedinwater.</s>“There,” said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of the pile. “There is a little nut for you to crack,MasterHolmes.” “Oh,indeed!”saidmyfriend,blowingbluerings intotheair. “YoudraggedthemfromtheSerpentine?” “No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. They have been identified as her clothes,anditseemedtomethatiftheclotheswere therethebodywouldnotbefaroff.” “Bythesamebrilliantreasoning,everyman’sbody istobefoundintheneighbourhoodofhiswardrobe.</s>And pray what did you hope to arrive at through this?”“AtsomeevidenceimplicatingFloraMillarinthe disappearance.” “Iamafraidthatyouwillfinditdifficult.” “Areyou,indeed,now?”criedLestradewithsome bitterness. “Iamafraid,Holmes,thatyouarenotvery practical with your deductions and your inferences.</s>You have made two blunders in as many minutes.</s>ThisdressdoesimplicateMissFloraMillar.” “Andhow?” “In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card- case. Inthecard-caseisanote. Andhereisthevery note.”Heslappeditdownuponthetableinfrontof him. “Listentothis: “‘You will see me when all is ready.</s>Comeatonce.</s>—“‘F.H.M.’ Now my theory all along has been that Lady St.</s>Simon was decoyed away by Flora Millar, and that she,withconfederates,nodoubt,wasresponsiblefor herdisappearance. Here,signedwithherinitials,is the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped intoherhandatthedoorandwhichluredherwithin theirreach.” “Very good, Lestrade,” said Holmes, laughing.</s>“You really are very fine indeed. Let me see it.” He tookupthepaperinalistlessway,buthisattention instantly became riveted, and he gave a little cry of satisfaction. “Thisisindeedimportant,”saidhe.</s>“Ha! youfinditso?” “Extremelyso. Icongratulateyouwarmly.” Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. “Why,” he shrieked, “you’re looking at the wrongside!” “Onthecontrary,thisistherightside.” “The right side? You’re mad! Here is the note writteninpenciloverhere.” “Andoverhereiswhatappearstobethefragment ofahotelbill,whichinterestsmedeeply.” “There’snothinginit. Ilookedatitbefore,”said Lestrade.</s>“‘Oct. 4th, rooms 8s., breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail1s.,lunch2s.6d.,glasssherry,8d.’ Iseenothinginthat.” “Verylikelynot. Itismostimportant,allthesame.</s>As to the note, it is important also, or at least the initialsare,soIcongratulateyouagain.” “I’vewastedtimeenough,”saidLestrade,rising.</s>“Ibelieveinhardworkandnotinsittingbythefire spinning fine theories. Good-day, Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matter first.”Hegatheredupthegarments,thrusttheminto thebag,andmadeforthedoor.</s>“Justonehinttoyou,Lestrade,”drawledHolmes beforehisrivalvanished;“Iwilltellyouthetrueso- lutionofthematter. LadySt.Simonisamyth. There isnot,andthereneverhasbeen,anysuchperson.” Lestradelookedsadlyatmycompanion. Thenhe turnedtome,tappedhisforeheadthreetimes,shook hisheadsolemnly,andhurriedaway.</s>He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmesrosetoputonhisovercoat. “Thereissome- thing in what the fellow says about outdoor work,” he remarked, “so I think, Watson, that I must leave youtoyourpapersforalittle.” Itwasafterfiveo’clockwhenSherlockHolmesleft me,butIhadnotimetobelonely,forwithinanhour therearrivedaconfectioner’smanwithaverylarge flatbox. Thisheunpackedwiththehelpofayouth whom he had brought with him, and presently, to myverygreatastonishment,aquiteepicureanlittle cold supper began to be laid out upon our humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of braceofcoldwoodcock,apheasant,apaˆte´ defoiegras pie with a group of ancient and cobwebby bottles.</s>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 paidforandwereorderedtothisaddress.</s>Justbeforenineo’clockSherlockHolmesstepped brisklyintotheroom. Hisfeaturesweregravelyset, buttherewasalightinhiseyewhichmademethink thathehadnotbeendisappointedinhisconclusions.</s>“Theyhavelaidthesupper,then,”hesaid,rubbing hishands.</s>“Youseemtoexpectcompany. Theyhavelaidfor five.” “Yes, I fancy we may have some company drop- pingin,”saidhe. “IamsurprisedthatLordSt.Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I fancy that I hear his stepnowuponthestairs.” It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in, dangling his glasses more vigor- ouslythanever,andwithaveryperturbedexpression uponhisaristocraticfeatures.“My messenger reached you, then?” asked Holmes.</s>“Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyondmeasure. Haveyougoodauthorityforwhat yousay?” “Thebestpossible.” Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his handoverhisforehead.</s>“WhatwilltheDukesay,”hemurmured,“when hehearsthatoneofthefamilyhasbeensubjectedto suchhumiliation?” “Itisthepurestaccident. Icannotallowthatthere isanyhumiliation.” “Ah,youlookonthesethingsfromanotherstand- point.” “Ifailtoseethatanyoneistoblame. Icanhardly seehowtheladycouldhaveactedotherwise,though her abrupt method of doing it was undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she had no one to adviseheratsuchacrisis.” “Itwasaslight,sir,apublicslight,”saidLordSt.</s>Simon,tappinghisfingersuponthetable.</s>“You must make allowance for this poor girl, placedinsounprecedentedaposition.” “Iwillmakenoallowance. Iamveryangryindeed, andIhavebeenshamefullyused.” “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. Si- mon, 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 outherhandtohim,buthestillrefusedtoraisehis eyes. Itwasaswellforhisresolution,perhaps,forher pleadingfacewasonewhichitwashardtoresist.</s>“You’re angry, Robert,” said she. “Well, I guess youhaveeverycausetobe.” “Pray make no apology to me,” said Lord St. Si- monbitterly.</s>“Oh,yes,IknowthatIhavetreatedyourealbad and that I should have spoken to you before I went; but I was kind of rattled, and from the time when I sawFrankhereagainIjustdidn’tknowwhatIwas doingorsaying. IonlywonderIdidn’tfalldownand doafaintrighttherebeforethealtar.” “Perhaps,Mrs.Moulton,youwouldlikemyfriend andmetoleavetheroomwhileyouexplainthismat- ter?” “IfImaygiveanopinion,”remarkedthestrange gentleman,“we’vehadjustalittletoomuchsecrecy overthisbusinessalready. Formypart,Ishouldlike allEuropeandAmericatoheartherightsofit.”He wasasmall,wiry,sunburntman,clean-shaven,with asharpfaceandalertmanner.</s>“ThenI’lltellourstoryrightaway,”saidthelady.</s>“FrankhereandImetin’84,inMcQuire’scamp,near theRockies,wherepawasworkingaclaim. Wewere engagedtoeachother,FrankandI;butthenoneday father struck a rich pocket and made a pile, while poor Frank here had a claim that petered out and cametonothing. Thericherpagrewthepoorerwas Frank;soatlastpawouldn’thearofourengagement lasting any longer, and he took me away to ’Frisco.</s>Frankwouldn’tthrowuphishand,though;sohefol- lowedmethere,andhesawmewithoutpaknowing anythingaboutit. Itwouldonlyhavemadehimmad toknow,sowejustfixeditallupforourselves. Frank said that he would go and make his pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he had as much aspa. SothenIpromisedtowaitforhimtotheend oftimeandpledgedmyselfnottomarryanyoneelse whilehelived. ‘Whyshouldn’twebemarriedright away,then,’saidhe,‘andthenIwillfeelsureofyou; and I won’t claim to be your husband until I come back?’ Well,wetalkeditover,andhehadfixeditall up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, that we just did it right there; and then Frank went offtoseekhisfortune,andIwentbacktopa.</s>“The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana,andthenhewentprospectinginArizona, andthenIheardofhimfromNewMexico. Afterthat came a long newspaper story about how a miners’ camphadbeenattackedbyApacheIndians,andthere was my Frank’s name among the killed. I fainted deadaway,andIwasverysickformonthsafter. Pa thoughtIhadadeclineandtookmetohalfthedoc- tors in ’Frisco. Not a word of news came for a year and more, so that I never doubted that Frank was reallydead. ThenLordSt.Simoncameto’Frisco,and we came to London, and a marriage was arranged, and pa was very pleased, but I felt all the time that nomanonthisearthwouldevertaketheplaceinmy heartthathadbeengiventomypoorFrank.“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 withhimwiththeintentiontomakehimjustasgood 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 glancedbackandsawFrankstandingandlookingat meoutofthefirstpew. Ithoughtitwashisghostat first;butwhenIlookedagaintherehewasstill,with akindofquestioninhiseyes,asiftoaskmewhether I were glad or sorry to see him. I wonder I didn’t drop. Iknowthateverythingwasturninground,and thewordsoftheclergymanwerejustlikethebuzzof a bee in my ear. I didn’t know what to do. Should Istoptheserviceandmakeasceneinthechurch? I glancedathimagain,andheseemedtoknowwhat I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his lips to tellmetobestill. ThenIsawhimscribbleonapiece ofpaper, andIknewthathewaswritingmeanote.</s>As I passed his pew on the way out I dropped my bouquetovertohim,andheslippedthenoteintomy handwhenhereturnedmetheflowers. Itwasonlya lineaskingmetojoinhimwhenhemadethesignto metodoso. OfcourseIneverdoubtedforamoment thatmyfirstdutywasnowtohim,andIdetermined todojustwhateverhemightdirect.</s>“WhenIgotbackItoldmymaid,whohadknown himinCalifornia,andhadalwaysbeenhisfriend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get a few things packedandmyulsterready. IknowIoughttohave 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 after- wards. Ihadn’tbeenatthetabletenminutesbefore I saw Frank out of the window at the other side of theroad. Hebeckonedtomeandthenbeganwalking into the Park. I slipped out, put on my things, and followedhim. Somewomancametalkingsomething orotheraboutLordSt.Simontome—seemedtome from the little I heard as if he had a little secret of hisownbeforemarriagealso—butImanagedtoget awayfromherandsoonovertookFrank. Wegotinto acabtogether,andawaywedrovetosomelodgings hehadtakeninGordonSquare,andthatwasmytrue wedding after all those years of waiting. Frank had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, cameonto’Frisco,foundthatIhadgivenhimupfor dead and had gone to England, followed me there, andhadcomeuponmeatlastontheverymorning ofmysecondwedding.” “Isawitinapaper,”explainedtheAmerican. “It gavethenameandthechurchbutnotwherethelady lived.” “Thenwehadatalkastowhatweshoulddo,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 andneverseeanyofthemagain—justsendingaline to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It was awfultometothinkofallthoselordsandladiessit- tingroundthatbreakfast-tableandwaitingformeto 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 thisgoodgentleman,Mr.Holmes,cameroundtous thisevening,thoughhowhefoundusismorethanI canthink,andheshowedusveryclearlyandkindly thatIwaswrongandthatFrankwasright,andthat 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 rightawayroundtohisroomsatonce. Now,Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if I have givenyoupain,andIhopethatyoudonotthinkvery meanlyofme.” LordSt.Simonhadbynomeansrelaxedhisrigid attitude,buthadlistenedwithafrowningbrowand acompressedliptothislongnarrative.</s>“Excuse me,” he said, “but it is not my custom to discuss my most intimate personal affairs in this publicmanner.” “Then you won’t forgive me? You won’t shake handsbeforeIgo?” “Oh,certainly,ifitwouldgiveyouanypleasure.” Heputouthishandandcoldlygraspedthat which sheextendedtohim.</s>“I had hoped,” suggested Holmes, “that you wouldhavejoinedusinafriendlysupper.” “I think that there you ask a little too much,” re- spondedhisLordship. “Imaybeforcedtoacquiesce intheserecentdevelopments,butIcanhardlybeex- pected to make merry over them. I think that with yourpermissionIwillnowwishyouallaverygood- night.” He included us all in a sweeping bow and stalkedoutoftheroom.</s>“ThenItrustthatyouatleastwillhonourmewith yourcompany,”saidSherlockHolmes. “Itisalwaysa joytomeetanAmerican,Mr.Moulton,forIamone ofthosewhobelievethatthefollyofamonarchand theblunderingofaministerinfar-goneyearswillnot prevent our children from being some day citizens ofthesameworld-widecountryunderaflagwhichshallbeaquarteringoftheUnionJackwiththeStars andStripes.” “Thecasehasbeenaninterestingone,”remarked Holmes when our visitors had left us, “because it servestoshowveryclearlyhowsimpletheexplana- tionmaybeofanaffairwhichatfirstsightseemstobe almostinexplicable. Nothingcouldbemorenatural thanthesequenceofeventsasnarratedbythislady, and nothing stranger than the result when viewed, forinstance,byMr.LestradeofScotlandYard.” “Youwerenotyourselfatfaultatall,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 hadrepentedofitwithinafewminutesofreturning home. Obviouslysomethinghadoccurredduringthe morning,then,tocausehertochangehermind. What couldthatsomethingbe? Shecouldnothavespoken toanyonewhenshewasout,forshehadbeeninthe companyofthebridegroom. Hadsheseensomeone, then? If shehad, it must be someone from America becauseshehadspentsoshortatimeinthiscountry thatshecouldhardlyhaveallowedanyonetoacquire sodeepaninfluenceoverherthatthemeresightof him would induce her to change her plans so com- pletely. Youseewehavealreadyarrived,byaprocess ofexclusion,attheideathatshemighthaveseenan American. Then who could this American be, and whyshouldhepossesssomuchinfluenceoverher? Itmightbealover;itmightbeahusband. Heryoung womanhoodhad,Iknew,beenspentinroughscenes andunderstrangeconditions. SofarIhadgotbefore IeverheardLordSt.Simon’snarrative. Whenhetold us of a man in a pew, of the change in the bride’s manner, of so transparent a device for obtaining a noteasthedroppingofabouquet,ofherresorttoher confidentialmaid,andofherverysignificantallusion toclaim-jumping—whichinminers’parlancemeans takingpossessionofthatwhichanotherpersonhasa priorclaimto—thewholesituationbecameabsolutely clear. She had gone off with a man, and the man was either a lover or was a previous husband—the chancesbeinginfavourofthelatter.” “Andhowintheworlddidyoufindthem?” “Itmighthavebeendifficult,butfriendLestrade heldinformationinhishandsthevalueofwhichhe didnothimselfknow. Theinitialswere,ofcourse,of thehighestimportance,butmorevaluablestillwasit toknowthatwithinaweekhehadsettledhisbillat oneofthemostselectLondonhotels.” “Howdidyoudeducetheselect?” “Bytheselectprices. Eightshillingsforabedand eightpenceforaglassofsherrypointedtooneofthe mostexpensivehotels. TherearenotmanyinLondon whichchargeatthatrate. InthesecondonewhichI 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 upontheveryitemswhichIhadseenintheduplicate bill. Hislettersweretobeforwardedto226Gordon Square; so thither I travelled, and being fortunate enoughtofindthelovingcoupleathome,Iventured to give them some paternal advice and to point out tothemthatitwouldbebetterineverywaythatthey shouldmaketheirpositionalittleclearerbothtothe general public and to Lord St. Simon in particular.</s>I invited them to meet him here, and, as you see, I madehimkeeptheappointment.” “Butwithnoverygoodresult,”Iremarked. “His conductwascertainlynotverygracious.” “Ah, Watson,” said Holmes, smiling, “perhaps youwouldnotbeverygraciouseither,if,afterallthe troubleofwooingandwedding,youfoundyourself deprivedinaninstantofwifeandoffortune. Ithink 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 autumnalevenings.”olmes,” said I as I stood one morning in ourbow-windowlookingdownthestreet, “hereisamadmancomingalong. Itseems H rather sad that his relatives should allow himtocomeoutalone.” Myfriendroselazilyfromhisarmchairandstood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing-gown, lookingovermyshoulder. Itwasabright,crispFebru- arymorning,andthesnowofthedaybeforestilllay 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,butateithersideandontheheaped-upedges of the foot-paths it still lay as white as when it fell.</s>The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, butwasstilldangerouslyslippery,sothattherewere fewerpassengersthanusual. Indeed,fromthedirec- tionoftheMetropolitanStationnoonewascoming save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct haddrawnmyattention.</s>He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and im- posing, 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 hisactionswereinabsurdcontrasttothedignityof hisdressandfeatures,forhewasrunninghard,with occasional little springs, such as a weary man gives whoislittleaccustomedtosetanytaxuponhislegs.</s>As he ran he jerked his hands up and down, wag- gled his head, and writhed his face into the most extraordinarycontortions.</s>“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, rubbinghishands.</s>“Here?” “Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. IthinkthatIrecognisethesymptoms.</s>Ha! did I not tell you?” As he spoke, the man, puff- ing and blowing, rushed at our door and pulled at our bell until the whole house resounded with the clanging.</s>A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still gesticulating, but with so fixed a look ofgriefanddespairinhiseyesthatoursmileswere turned in an instant to horror and pity. For a while hecouldnotgethiswordsout,butswayedhisbody andpluckedathishairlikeonewhohasbeendriven to the extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springingtohisfeet,hebeathisheadagainstthewall 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, sittingbesidehim,pattedhishandandchattedwith himintheeasy,soothingtoneswhichheknewsowell howtoemploy.</s>“Youhavecometometotellyourstory,haveyou not?” said he. “You are fatigued with your haste.</s>Praywaituntilyouhaverecoveredyourself,andthen Ishallbemosthappytolookintoanylittleproblem whichyoumaysubmittome.” Themansatforaminuteormorewithaheaving chest, fighting against his emotion. Then he passed hishandkerchiefoverhisbrow,sethislipstight,and turnedhisfacetowardsus.</s>“Nodoubtyouthinkmemad?”saidhe.</s>“Iseethatyouhavehadsomegreattrouble,”re- spondedHolmes.</s>“GodknowsIhave!—atroublewhichisenough to unseat my reason, so sudden and so terrible is it.</s>Public disgrace I might have faced, although I am a man whose character has never yet borne a stain.</s>Privateafflictionalsoisthelotofeveryman;butthe twocomingtogether,andinsofrightfulaform,have been enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land may suffer unlesssomewaybefoundoutofthishorribleaffair.” “Praycomposeyourself,sir,”saidHolmes,“and letmehaveaclearaccountofwhoyouareandwhat itisthathasbefallenyou.” “My name,” answered our visitor, “is probably familiartoyourears. IamAlexanderHolder,ofthe bankingfirmofHolder&Stevenson,ofThreadneedle Street.” The name was indeed well known to us as be- longing to the senior partner in the second largest privatebankingconcernintheCityofLondon. What couldhavehappened,then,tobringoneofthefore- most citizens of London to this most pitiable pass? Wewaited,allcuriosity,untilwithanotherefforthe bracedhimselftotellhisstory.</s>“Ifeelthattimeisofvalue,”saidhe;“thatiswhy Ihastenedherewhenthepoliceinspectorsuggested that I should secure your co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and hurried from thereonfoot,forthecabsgoslowlythroughthissnow.</s>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 clearlyasIcan.“Itis,ofcourse,wellknowntoyouthatinasuc- cessfulbankingbusinessasmuchdependsuponour beingabletofindremunerativeinvestmentsforour fundsasuponourincreasingourconnectionandthe number of our depositors. One of our most lucra- tive means of laying out money is in the shape of loans,wherethesecurityisunimpeachable. Wehave doneagooddealinthisdirectionduringthelastfew years,andtherearemanynoblefamiliestowhomwe haveadvancedlargesumsuponthesecurityoftheir pictures,libraries,orplate.</s>“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 youIhadbettersaynomorethanthatitwasaname whichisahouseholdwordallovertheearth—oneof thehighest,noblest,mostexaltednamesinEngland.</s>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 hurryquicklythroughadisagreeabletask.</s>“‘Mr.Holder,’saidhe,‘Ihavebeeninformedthat youareinthehabitofadvancingmoney.’ “‘The firm does so when the security is good.’ I answered.</s>“‘Itisabsolutelyessentialtome,’saidhe,‘thatI should have £50,000 at once. I could, of course, bor- rowsotriflingasumtentimesoverfrommyfriends, butImuchprefertomakeitamatterofbusinessand tocarryoutthatbusinessmyself. Inmypositionyou canreadilyunderstandthatitisunwisetoplaceone’s selfunderobligations.’ “‘Forhowlong,mayIask,doyouwantthissum?’ Iasked.</s>“‘NextMondayIhavealargesumduetome,and I shall then most certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you think it right to charge.</s>Butitisveryessentialtomethatthemoneyshould bepaidatonce.’ “‘Ishouldbehappytoadvanceitwithoutfurther parley from my own private purse,’ said I, ‘were it notthatthestrainwouldberathermorethanitcould bear. If,ontheotherhand,Iamtodoitinthename ofthefirm,theninjusticetomypartnerImustinsist that,eveninyourcase,everybusinesslikeprecaution shouldbetaken.’ “‘Ishouldmuchprefertohaveitso,’saidhe,rais- ing up a square, black morocco case which he had laidbesidehischair. ‘Youhavedoubtlessheardofthe BerylCoronet?’ “‘Oneofthemostpreciouspublicpossessionsof theempire,’saidI.</s>“‘Precisely.’ Heopenedthecase,andthere,imbed- dedinsoft,flesh-colouredvelvet,laythemagnificent piece of jewellery which he had named. ‘There are thirty-nineenormousberyls,’saidhe,‘andtheprice of the gold chasing is incalculable. The lowest esti- mate would put the worth of the coronet at double thesumwhichIhaveasked. Iampreparedtoleaveit withyouasmysecurity.’ “I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some perplexity from it to my illustrious client.</s>“‘Youdoubtitsvalue?’ heasked.</s>“‘Notatall. Ionlydoubt—’ “‘The propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest about that. I should not dream of doingsowereitnotabsolutelycertainthatIshould beableinfourdaystoreclaimit. Itisapurematter ofform. Isthesecuritysufficient?’ “‘Ample.’ “‘You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving youastrongproofoftheconfidencewhichIhavein you,foundeduponallthatIhaveheardofyou. Irely uponyounotonlytobediscreetandtorefrainfrom allgossipuponthematterbut,aboveall,topreserve thiscoronetwitheverypossibleprecautionbecause I need not say that a great public scandal would be causedifanyharmweretobefallit. Anyinjurytoit would be almost as serious as its complete loss, for therearenoberylsintheworldtomatchthese,andit wouldbeimpossibletoreplacethem. Ileaveitwith you,however,witheveryconfidence,andIshallcall foritinpersononMondaymorning.’ “Seeingthatmyclientwasanxioustoleave,Isaid nomorebut,callingformycashier,Iorderedhimto pay over fifty £1000 notes. When I was alone once more, however, with the precious case lying upon the table in front of me, I could not but think with somemisgivingsoftheimmenseresponsibilitywhich itentaileduponme. Therecouldbenodoubtthat,as itwasanationalpossession,ahorriblescandalwould ensueifanymisfortuneshouldoccurtoit. Ialready regrettedhavingeverconsentedtotakechargeofit.</s>However,itwastoolatetoalterthematternow,soI lockeditupinmyprivatesafeandturnedoncemore tomywork.</s>“When evening came I felt that it would be an imprudencetoleavesopreciousathingintheoffice behind me. Bankers’ safes had been forced before now,andwhyshouldnotminebe? Ifso,howterriblewouldbethepositioninwhichIshouldfindmyself! I determined, therefore, that for the next few days I wouldalwayscarrythecasebackwardandforward with me, so that it might never be really out of my reach. Withthisintention,Icalledacabanddroveout tomyhouseatStreatham,carryingthejewelwithme.</s>I did not breathe freely until I had taken it upstairs andlockeditinthebureauofmydressing-room.</s>“And now a word as to my household, Mr.</s>Holmes, for I wish you to thoroughly understand thesituation. Mygroomandmypagesleepoutofthe house,andmaybesetasidealtogether. Ihavethree maid-servantswhohavebeenwithmeanumberof yearsandwhoseabsolutereliabilityisquiteabovesus- picion. Another,LucyParr,thesecondwaiting-maid, hasonlybeeninmyserviceafewmonths. Shecame withanexcellentcharacter,however,andhasalways givenmesatisfaction. Sheisaveryprettygirlandhas attractedadmirerswhohaveoccasionallyhungabout theplace. Thatistheonlydrawbackwhichwehave found to her, but we believe her to be a thoroughly goodgirlineveryway.</s>“Somuchfortheservants. Myfamilyitselfisso smallthatitwillnottakemelongtodescribeit. Iam awidowerandhaveanonlyson,Arthur. Hehasbeen adisappointmenttome,Mr.Holmes—agrievousdis- appointment. 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 wasallIhadtolove. Icouldnotbeartoseethesmile fade even for a moment from his face. I have never deniedhimawish. Perhapsitwouldhavebeenbetter for both of us had I been sterner, but I meant it for thebest.</s>“Itwasnaturallymyintentionthatheshouldsuc- ceedmeinmybusiness,buthewasnotofabusiness turn. Hewaswild,wayward,and,tospeakthetruth, Icouldnottrusthiminthehandlingoflargesumsof money. Whenhewasyounghebecameamemberof anaristocraticclub,andthere,havingcharmingman- ners, 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 theturf,untilhehadagainandagaintocometome andimploremetogivehimanadvanceuponhisal- lowance,thathemightsettlehisdebtsofhonour. He triedmorethanoncetobreakawayfromthedanger- ous company which he was keeping, but each time theinfluenceofhisfriend,SirGeorgeBurnwell,was enoughtodrawhimbackagain.</s>“And,indeed,Icouldnotwonderthatsuchaman asSirGeorgeBurnwellshouldgainaninfluenceover him,forhehasfrequentlybroughthimtomyhouse, andIhavefoundmyselfthatIcouldhardlyresistthe fascinationofhismanner. HeisolderthanArthur,a manoftheworldtohisfinger-tips,onewhohadbeen everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker, and amanofgreatpersonalbeauty. YetwhenIthinkof himincoldblood,farawayfromtheglamourofhis presence,Iamconvincedfromhiscynicalspeechand thelookwhichIhavecaughtinhiseyesthatheisone whoshouldbedeeplydistrusted. SoIthink,andso, too,thinksmylittleMary,whohasawoman’squick insightintocharacter.</s>“Andnowthereisonlyshetobedescribed. She ismyniece;butwhenmybrotherdiedfiveyearsago and left her alone in the world I adopted her, and havelookeduponhereversinceasmydaughter. She isasunbeaminmyhouse—sweet,loving,beautiful, awonderfulmanagerandhousekeeper,yetastender andquietandgentleasawomancouldbe. Sheismy right hand. I do not know what I could do without her. Inonlyonematterhassheevergoneagainstmy wishes. Twicemyboyhasaskedhertomarryhim,for helovesherdevotedly,buteachtimeshehasrefused him. Ithinkthatifanyonecouldhavedrawnhiminto the right path it would have been she, and that his marriagemighthavechangedhiswholelife;butnow, alas! itistoolate—forevertoolate! “Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and I shall continue with my miserablestory.</s>“Whenweweretakingcoffeeinthedrawing-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 myclient. LucyParr,whohadbroughtinthecoffee, had,Iamsure,lefttheroom;butIcannotswearthat the door was closed. Mary and Arthur were much interestedandwishedtoseethefamouscoronet,but Ithoughtitbetternottodisturbit.</s>“‘Wherehaveyouputit?’ askedArthur.</s>“‘Inmyownbureau.’ “‘Well, I hope to goodness the house won’t be burgledduringthenight.’ saidhe.</s>“‘Itislockedup,’Ianswered.</s>“‘Oh,anyoldkeywillfitthatbureau. WhenIwas ayoungsterIhaveopeneditmyselfwiththekeyof thebox-roomcupboard.’ “He often had a wild way of talking, so that I thoughtlittleofwhathesaid. Hefollowedmetomy room,however,thatnightwithaverygraveface.</s>“‘Lookhere,dad,’saidhewithhiseyescastdown, ‘canyouletmehave£200?’“‘No,Icannot!’ Iansweredsharply. ‘Ihavebeen fartoogenerouswithyouinmoneymatters.’ “‘You have been very kind,’ said he, ‘but I must have this money, or else I can never show my face insidetheclubagain.’ “‘Andaverygoodthing,too!’ Icried.</s>“‘Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dis- honouredman,’saidhe. ‘Icouldnotbearthedisgrace.</s>Imustraisethemoneyinsomeway,andifyouwill notletmehaveit,thenImusttryothermeans.’ “Iwasveryangry,forthiswasthethirddemand duringthemonth. ‘Youshallnothaveafarthingfrom me,’ I cried, on which he bowed and left the room withoutanotherword.</s>“WhenhewasgoneIunlockedmybureau,made sure that my treasure was safe, and locked it again.</s>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. AsIcamedownthestairsIsawMaryherself atthesidewindowofthehall,whichsheclosedand fastenedasIapproached.</s>“‘Tell me, dad,’ said she, looking, I thought, a littledisturbed,‘didyougiveLucy,themaid,leaveto gooutto-night?’ “‘Certainlynot.’ “‘She came in just now by the back door. I have nodoubtthatshehasonlybeentothesidegatetosee someone,butIthinkthatitishardlysafeandshould bestopped.’ “‘Youmustspeaktoherinthemorning,orIwill if you prefer it. Are you sure that everything is fas- tened?’ “‘Quitesure,dad.’ “‘Then,good-night.’ Ikissedherandwentupto mybedroomagain,whereIwassoonasleep.</s>“I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr.</s>Holmes,whichmayhaveanybearinguponthecase, but I beg that you will question me upon any point whichIdonotmakeclear.” “Onthecontrary,yourstatementissingularlylu- cid.” “I come to a part of my story now in which I should wish to be particularly so. I am not a very heavysleeper,andtheanxietyinmymindtended,no doubt,tomakemeevenlesssothanusual. Abouttwo inthemorning,then,Iwasawakenedbysomesound in the house. It had ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an impression behind it as though a windowhadgentlyclosedsomewhere. Ilaylistening withallmyears. Suddenly,tomyhorror,therewasa distinctsoundoffootstepsmovingsoftlyinthenext room. I slipped out of bed, all palpitating with fear, and peeped round the corner of my dressing-room door.</s>“‘Arthur!’ I screamed, ‘you villain! you thief! Howdareyoutouchthatcoronet?’ “Thegaswashalfup,asIhadleftit,andmyun- happyboy,dressedonlyinhisshirtandtrousers,was standingbesidethelight,holdingthecoronetinhis hands. Heappearedtobewrenchingatit,orbending itwithallhisstrength. Atmycryhedroppeditfrom his grasp and turned as pale as death. I snatched it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with threeoftheberylsinit,wasmissing.</s>“‘Youblackguard!’ Ishouted,besidemyselfwith rage. ‘Youhavedestroyedit! Youhavedishonoured me forever! Where are the jewels which you have stolen?’ “‘Stolen!’ hecried.</s>“‘Yes, thief!’ I roared, shaking him by the shoul- der.</s>“‘There are none missing. There cannot be any missing,’saidhe.</s>“‘Therearethreemissing. Andyouknowwhere theyare. MustIcallyoualiaraswellasathief? Did Inotseeyoutryingtotearoffanotherpiece?’ “‘Youhavecalledmenamesenough,’saidhe,‘I will not stand it any longer. I shall not say another word about this business, since you have chosen to insultme. Iwillleaveyourhouseinthemorningand makemyownwayintheworld.’ “‘You shall leave it in the hands of the police!’ I criedhalf-madwithgriefandrage. ‘Ishallhavethis matterprobedtothebottom.’ “‘Youshalllearnnothingfromme,’saidhewitha passionsuchasIshouldnothavethoughtwasinhis nature. ‘Ifyouchoosetocallthepolice,letthepolice findwhattheycan.’ “Bythistimethewholehousewasastir,forIhad 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 sentthehouse-maidforthepoliceandputtheinves- tigation into their hands at once. When the inspec- tor and a constable entered the house, Arthur, who had stood sullenly with his arms folded, asked me whetheritwasmyintentiontochargehimwiththeft.</s>Iansweredthatithadceasedtobeaprivatematter, buthadbecomeapublicone,sincetheruinedcoronetwasnationalproperty. Iwasdeterminedthatthelaw shouldhaveitswayineverything.</s>“‘Atleast,’saidhe,‘youwillnothavemearrested at once. It would be to your advantage as well as mineifImightleavethehouseforfiveminutes.’ “‘That you may get away, or perhaps that you mayconcealwhatyouhavestolen,’saidI.Andthen, realisingthedreadfulpositioninwhichIwasplaced, Iimploredhimtorememberthatnotonlymyhonour but that of one who was far greater than I was at stake;andthathethreatenedtoraiseascandalwhich wouldconvulsethenation. Hemightavertitallifhe would but tell me what he had done with the three missingstones.</s>“‘You may as well face the matter,’ said I; ‘you havebeencaughtintheact,andnoconfessioncould makeyourguiltmoreheinous. Ifyoubutmakesuch reparationasisinyourpower,bytellinguswherethe berylsare,allshallbeforgivenandforgotten.’ “‘Keepyourforgivenessforthosewhoaskforit,’ he answered, turning away from me with a sneer. I sawthathewastoohardenedforanywordsofmine to influence him. There was but one way for it. I calledintheinspectorandgavehimintocustody. A search was made at once not only of his person but ofhisroomandofeveryportionofthehousewhere he could possibly have concealed the gems; but no traceofthemcouldbefound,norwouldthewretched boyopenhismouthforallourpersuasionsandour threats. Thismorninghewasremovedtoacell,and I,aftergoingthroughallthepoliceformalities,have hurriedroundtoyoutoimploreyoutouseyourskill inunravellingthematter. Thepolicehaveopenlycon- fessedthattheycanatpresentmakenothingofit. You may go to any expense which you think necessary.</s>I have already offered a reward of £1000. My God, whatshallIdo! Ihavelostmyhonour,mygems,and mysoninonenight. Oh,whatshallIdo!” He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to and fro, droning to himself like a childwhosegriefhasgotbeyondwords.</s>SherlockHolmessatsilentforsomefewminutes, with his brows knitted and his eyes fixed upon the fire.</s>“Doyoureceivemuchcompany?”heasked.</s>“None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of Arthur’s. Sir George Burnwell hasbeenseveraltimeslately. Nooneelse,Ithink.” “Doyougooutmuchinsociety?” “Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We nei- therofuscareforit.” “Thatisunusualinayounggirl.” “She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so veryyoung. Sheisfour-and-twenty.” “This matter, from what you say, seems to have beenashocktoheralso.” “Terrible! SheisevenmoreaffectedthanI.” “You have neither of you any doubt as to your son’sguilt?” “HowcanwehavewhenIsawhimwithmyown eyeswiththecoronetinhishands.” “I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was theremainderofthecoronetatallinjured?” “Yes,itwastwisted.” “Doyounotthink,then,thathemighthavebeen tryingtostraightenit?” “Godblessyou! Youaredoingwhatyoucanfor himandforme. Butitistooheavyatask. Whatwas he doing there at all? If his purpose were innocent, whydidhenotsayso?” “Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie? His silence appears to me to cut both ways. Thereareseveralsingularpointsaboutthecase.</s>Whatdidthepolicethinkofthenoisewhichawoke youfromyoursleep?” “They considered that it might be caused by Arthur’sclosinghisbedroomdoor.” “Alikelystory! Asifamanbentonfelonywould slam his door so as to wake a household. What did theysay,then,ofthedisappearanceofthesegems?” “Theyarestillsoundingtheplankingandprobing thefurnitureinthehopeoffindingthem.” “Havetheythoughtoflookingoutsidethehouse?” “Yes,theyhaveshownextraordinaryenergy. The wholegardenhasalreadybeenminutelyexamined.” “Now, my dear sir,” said Holmes. “is it not ob- vioustoyounowthatthismatterreallystrikesvery muchdeeperthaneitheryouorthepolicewereatfirst inclinedto think? Itappearedtoyouto bea simple case;tomeitseemsexceedinglycomplex. Consider what is involved by your theory. You suppose that yoursoncamedownfromhisbed,went,atgreatrisk, toyourdressing-room,openedyourbureau,tookout yourcoronet,brokeoffbymainforceasmallportion of it, went off to some other place, concealed three gems out of the thirty-nine, with such skill that no- bodycanfindthem,andthenreturnedwiththeother thirty-sixintotheroominwhichheexposedhimself tothegreatestdangerofbeingdiscovered. Iaskyou now,issuchatheorytenable?”“Butwhatotheristhere?”criedthebankerwith a gesture of despair. “If his motives were innocent, whydoeshenotexplainthem?” “It is our task to find that out,” replied Holmes; “sonow,ifyouplease,Mr.Holder,wewillsetofffor Streathamtogether,anddevoteanhourtoglancinga littlemorecloselyintodetails.” Myfriendinsisteduponmyaccompanyingthem intheirexpedition,whichIwaseagerenoughtodo, for my curiosity and sympathy were deeply stirred bythestorytowhichwehadlistened. Iconfessthat theguiltofthebanker’ssonappearedtometobeas obviousasitdidtohisunhappyfather,butstillIhad suchfaithinHolmes’judgmentthatIfeltthatthere must be some grounds for hope as long as he was dissatisfiedwiththeacceptedexplanation. Hehardly spokeawordthewholewayouttothesouthernsub- urb, but sat with his chin upon his breast and his hatdrawnoverhiseyes,sunkinthedeepestthought.</s>Ourclientappearedtohavetakenfreshheartatthe little glimpse of hope which had been presented to him,andheevenbrokeintoadesultorychatwithme overhisbusinessaffairs. Ashortrailwayjourneyand a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest residenceofthegreatfinancier.</s>Fairbankwasagood-sizedsquarehouseofwhite stone, standing back a little from the road. A dou- blecarriage-sweep,withasnow-cladlawn,stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed theentrance. Ontherightsidewasasmallwooden thicket, which led into a narrow path between two neat hedges stretching from the road to the kitchen door,andformingthetradesmen’sentrance. Onthe left ran a lanewhich led to the stables, and was not itselfwithinthegroundsatall,beingapublic,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.</s>So long was he that Mr. Holder and I went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until he should return. Weweresittingthereinsilencewhenthedoor 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 pallorofherskin. IdonotthinkthatIhaveeverseen suchdeadlypalenessinawoman’sface. Herlips,too, werebloodless,buthereyeswereflushedwithcrying.</s>Asshesweptsilentlyintotheroomsheimpressedme withagreatersenseofgriefthanthebankerhaddone inthemorning,anditwasthemorestrikinginheras shewasevidentlyawomanofstrongcharacter,with immensecapacityforself-restraint. Disregardingmy presence, she went straight to her uncle and passed herhandoverhisheadwithasweetwomanlycaress.</s>“You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated,haveyounot,dad?”sheasked.</s>“No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed to thebottom.” “But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know whatwoman’sinstinctsare. Iknowthathehasdone noharmandthatyouwillbesorryforhavingacted soharshly.” “Whyishesilent,then,ifheisinnocent?” “Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry thatyoushouldsuspecthim.” “HowcouldIhelpsuspectinghim,whenIactually sawhimwiththecoronetinhishand?” “Oh,buthehadonlypickedituptolookatit. Oh, do, do take my word for it that he is innocent. Let thematterdropandsaynomore. Itissodreadfulto thinkofourdearArthurinaprison!” “I shall never let it drop until the gems are found—never,Mary! YouraffectionforArthurblinds you as to the awful consequences to me. Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman downfromLondontoinquiremoredeeplyintoit.” “Thisgentleman?”sheasked,facingroundtome.</s>“No,hisfriend. Hewishedustoleavehimalone.</s>Heisroundinthestablelanenow.” “Thestablelane?”Sheraisedherdarkeyebrows.</s>“Whatcanhehopetofindthere? Ah! this,Isuppose, is he. I trust, sir, that you will succeed in proving, whatIfeelsureisthetruth,thatmycousinArthuris innocentofthiscrime.” “Ifullyshareyouropinion,andItrust,withyou, thatwemayproveit,”returnedHolmes,goingbackto themattoknockthesnowfromhisshoes. “Ibelieve I have the honour of addressing Miss Mary Holder.</s>MightIaskyouaquestionortwo?” “Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affairup.” “Youheardnothingyourselflastnight?” “Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak loudly. Iheardthat,andIcamedown.” “You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Didyoufastenallthewindows?” “Yes.” “Weretheyallfastenedthismorning?” “Yes.”“Youhaveamaidwhohasasweetheart? Ithink that you remarked to your uncle last night that she hadbeenouttoseehim?” “Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room,andwhomayhavehearduncle’sre- marksaboutthecoronet.” “Isee. Youinferthatshemayhavegoneouttotell her sweetheart, and that the two may have planned therobbery.” “Butwhatisthegoodofallthesevaguetheories,” criedthebankerimpatiently,“whenIhavetoldyou thatIsawArthurwiththecoronetinhishands?” “Waitalittle,Mr.Holder. Wemustcomebackto that. Aboutthisgirl,MissHolder. Yousawherreturn bythekitchendoor,Ipresume?” “Yes;whenIwenttoseeifthedoorwasfastened forthenightImetherslippingin. Isawtheman,too, inthegloom.” “Doyouknowhim?” “Oh, yes! he is the green-grocer who brings our vegetablesround. HisnameisFrancisProsper.” “He stood,” said Holmes, “to the left of the door—thatistosay,fartherupthepaththanisneces- sarytoreachthedoor?” “Yes,hedid.” “Andheisamanwithawoodenleg?” Somethinglikefearsprangupintheyounglady’s expressiveblackeyes. “Why,youarelikeamagician,” saidshe. “Howdoyouknowthat?”Shesmiled,but therewasnoansweringsmileinHolmes’thin,eager face.</s>“Ishouldbeverygladnowtogoupstairs,”said he. “I shall probably wish to go over the outside of thehouseagain. PerhapsIhadbettertakealookat thelowerwindowsbeforeIgoup.” He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausingonlyatthelargeonewhichlookedfromthe hallontothestablelane. Thisheopenedandmadea verycarefulexaminationofthesillwithhispowerful magnifyinglens. “Nowweshallgoupstairs,”saidhe atlast.</s>The banker’s dressing-room was a plainly fur- nishedlittlechamber,withagreycarpet,alargebu- reau,andalongmirror. Holmeswenttothebureau firstandlookedhardatthelock.</s>“Whichkeywasusedtoopenit?”heasked.</s>“That which my son himself indicated—that of thecupboardofthelumber-room.” “Haveyouithere?” “Thatisitonthedressing-table.” Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bu- reau.</s>“It is a noiseless lock,” said he. “It is no wonder that it did not wake you. This case, I presume, con- tains the coronet. We must have a look at it.” He openedthecase,andtakingoutthediademhelaidit uponthetable. Itwasamagnificentspecimenofthe jeweller’sart,andthethirty-sixstoneswerethefinest thatIhaveeverseen. Atonesideofthecoronetwas a cracked edge, where a corner holding three gems hadbeentornaway.</s>“Now,Mr.Holder,”saidHolmes,“hereisthecor- ner which corresponds to that which has been so unfortunatelylost. MightIbegthatyouwillbreakit off.” Thebankerrecoiledinhorror. “Ishouldnotdream oftrying,”saidhe.</s>“ThenIwill.”Holmessuddenlybenthisstrength 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 youthinkwouldhappenifIdidbreakit,Mr.Holder? Therewouldbeanoiselikeapistolshot. Doyoutell methatallthishappenedwithinafewyardsofyour bedandthatyouheardnothingofit?” “Idonotknowwhattothink. Itisalldarktome.” “Butperhapsitmaygrowlighteraswego. What doyouthink,MissHolder?” “IconfessthatIstillsharemyuncle’sperplexity.” “Yoursonhadnoshoesorslippersonwhenyou sawhim?” “He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt.” “Thankyou. Wehavecertainlybeenfavouredwith extraordinaryluckduringthisinquiry,anditwillbe entirelyourownfaultifwedonotsucceedinclearing the matter up. With your permission, Mr. Holder, I shallnowcontinuemyinvestigationsoutside.” He went alone, at his own request, for he ex- plainedthatanyunnecessaryfootmarksmightmake histaskmoredifficult. Foranhourormorehewasat work,returningatlastwithhisfeetheavywithsnow andhisfeaturesasinscrutableasever.</s>“I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr. Holder,” said he; “I can serve you best by returningtomyrooms.” “Butthegems,Mr.Holmes. Wherearethey?” “Icannottell.”The banker wrung his hands. “I shall never see them again!” he cried. “And my son? You give me hopes?” “Myopinionisinnowayaltered.” “Then, for God’s sake, what was this dark busi- nesswhichwasactedinmyhouselastnight?” “IfyoucancalluponmeatmyBakerStreetrooms to-morrowmorningbetweennineandtenIshallbe happy to do what I can to make it clearer. I under- stand that you give me carte blanche to act for you, providedonlythatIgetbackthegems,andthatyou placenolimitonthesumImaydraw.” “Iwouldgivemyfortunetohavethemback.” “Verygood. Ishalllookintothematterbetween thisandthen. Good-bye;itisjustpossiblethatImay havetocomeoverhereagainbeforeevening.” Itwasobvioustomethatmycompanion’smind wasnowmadeupaboutthecase,althoughwhathis conclusionswerewasmorethanIcouldevendimly imagine. Severaltimesduringourhomewardjourney Iendeavouredtosoundhimuponthepoint, buthe alwaysglidedawaytosomeothertopic,untilatlastI gaveitoverindespair. Itwasnotyetthreewhenwe foundourselvesinourroomsoncemore. Hehurried tohischamberandwasdownagaininafewminutes dressed as a common loafer. With his collar turned up,hisshiny,seedycoat,hisredcravat,andhisworn boots,hewasaperfectsampleoftheclass.</s>“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 maybefollowingawill-o’-the-wisp,butIshallsoon knowwhichitis. IhopethatImaybebackinafew hours.” He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon thesideboard,sandwicheditbetweentworoundsof bread, and thrusting this rude meal into his pocket hestartedoffuponhisexpedition.</s>I had just finished my tea when he returned, ev- idently in excellent spirits, swinging an old elastic- sided boot in his hand. He chucked it down into a cornerandhelpedhimselftoacupoftea.</s>“I only looked in as I passed,” said he. “I am goingrighton.” “Whereto?” “Oh,totheothersideoftheWestEnd. Itmaybe sometimebeforeIgetback. Don’twaitupformein caseIshouldbelate.” “Howareyougettingon?” “Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been outtoStreathamsinceIsawyoulast,butIdidnotcall at the house. It is a very sweet little problem, and I wouldnothavemisseditforagooddeal. However,I mustnotsitgossipinghere,butmustgetthesedisrep- utableclothesoffandreturntomyhighlyrespectable self.” I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for satisfaction than his words alone would imply. Hiseyestwinkled,andtherewasevenatouch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He hastened up- stairs,andafewminuteslaterIheardtheslamofthe hall door, which told me that he was off once more uponhiscongenialhunt.</s>Iwaiteduntilmidnight,buttherewasnosignof hisreturn,soIretiredtomyroom. Itwasnouncom- monthingforhimtobeawayfordaysandnightson endwhenhewashotuponascent,sothathislateness causedmenosurprise. Idonotknowatwhathour he came in, but when I came down to breakfast in themorningtherehewaswithacupofcoffeeinone handandthepaperintheother,asfreshandtrimas possible.</s>“Youwillexcusemybeginningwithoutyou,Wat- son,”saidhe,“butyourememberthatourclienthas ratheranearlyappointmentthismorning.” “Why,itisafterninenow,”Ianswered. “Ishould notbesurprisedifthatwerehe. IthoughtIhearda ring.” It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shockedbythechangewhichhadcomeoverhim,for hisfacewhichwasnaturallyofabroadandmassive mould,wasnowpinchedandfallenin,whilehishair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. He entered withawearinessandlethargywhichwasevenmore painfulthanhisviolenceofthemorningbefore,and hedroppedheavilyintothearmchairwhichIpushed forwardforhim.</s>“IdonotknowwhatIhavedonetobesoseverely tried,” said he. “Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without a care in the world.</s>NowIamlefttoalonelyanddishonouredage. One sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. My niece,Mary,hasdesertedme.” “Desertedyou?” “Yes. Herbedthismorninghadnotbeensleptin, herroomwasempty,andanoteformelayuponthe halltable. Ihadsaidtoherlastnight,insorrowand notinanger,thatifshehadmarriedmyboyallmight havebeenwellwithhim. Perhapsitwasthoughtlessofmetosayso. Itistothatremarkthatsherefersin thisnote: “‘MydearestUncle: “‘IfeelthatIhavebroughttroubleupon you, and that if I had acted differently thisterriblemisfortunemightneverhave occurred. I cannot, with this thought in mymind,everagainbehappyunderyour roof, and I feel that I must leave you for- ever. Do not worry about my future, for thatisprovidedfor;and,aboveall,donot searchforme,foritwillbefruitlesslabour andanill-servicetome. Inlifeorindeath, Iamever —“‘Yourloving “‘Mary.’ “Whatcouldshemeanbythatnote,Mr.Holmes? Doyouthinkitpointstosuicide?” “No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you arenearingtheendofyourtroubles.” “Ha! Yousayso! Youhaveheardsomething,Mr.</s>Holmes;youhavelearnedsomething! Wherearethe gems?” “You would not think £1000 pounds apiece an excessivesumforthem?” “Iwouldpayten.” “Thatwouldbeunnecessary. Threethousandwill coverthematter. Andthereisalittlereward,Ifancy.</s>Have you your check-book? Here is a pen. Better makeitoutfor£4000.” With a dazed face the banker made out the re- quiredcheck. Holmeswalkedovertohisdesk,took outalittletriangularpieceofgoldwiththreegemsin it,andthrewitdownuponthetable.</s>Withashriekofjoyourclientclutcheditup.</s>“You have it!” he gasped. “I am saved! I am saved!” Thereactionofjoywasaspassionateashisgrief had been, and he hugged his recovered gems to his bosom.</s>“There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder,” saidSherlockHolmesrathersternly.</s>“Owe!”Hecaughtupapen. “Namethesum,and Iwillpayit.” “No,thedebtisnottome. Youoweaveryhumble apologytothatnoblelad,yourson,whohascarried himselfinthismatterasIshouldbeproudtoseemy ownsondo,shouldIeverchancetohaveone.” “ThenitwasnotArthurwhotookthem?” “I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it wasnot.” “You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at oncetolethimknowthatthetruthisknown.” “He knows it already. When I had cleared it all upIhadaninterviewwithhim,andfindingthathe wouldnottellmethestory,Itoldittohim,onwhich hehadtoconfessthatIwasrightandtoaddthevery fewdetailswhichwerenotyetquitecleartome. Your newsofthismorning,however,mayopenhislips.” “Forheaven’ssake,tellme,then,whatisthisex- traordinarymystery!” “I will do so, and I will show you the steps by whichIreachedit. Andletmesaytoyou,first,that whichitishardestformetosayandforyoutohear: therehasbeenanunderstandingbetweenSirGeorge Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now fled together.” “MyMary? Impossible!” “It is unfortunately more than possible; it is cer- tain. Neither you nor your son knew the true char- acter of this man when you admitted him into your familycircle. Heisoneofthemostdangerousmenin England—aruinedgambler,anabsolutelydesperate villain,amanwithoutheartorconscience. Yourniece knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his vowstoher,ashehaddonetoahundredbeforeher, she flattered herself that she alone had touched his heart. Thedevilknowsbestwhathesaid,butatleast she became his tool and was in the habit of seeing himnearlyeveryevening.” “I cannot, and I will not, believe it!” cried the bankerwithanashenface.</s>“Iwilltellyou,then,whatoccurredinyourhouse lastnight. Yourniece,whenyouhad,asshethought, gone to your room, slipped down and talked to her loverthroughthewindowwhichleadsintothestable lane. His footmarks had pressed right through the snow, so long had he stood there. She told him of thecoronet. Hiswickedlustforgoldkindledat the news, and he bent her to his will. I have no doubt that she loved you, but there are women in whom theloveofaloverextinguishesallotherloves,andI think that she must have been one. She had hardly listenedtohisinstructionswhenshesawyoucoming downstairs,onwhichsheclosedthewindowrapidly andtoldyouaboutoneoftheservants’escapadewith herwooden-leggedlover,whichwasallperfectlytrue.“Yourboy,Arthur,wenttobedafterhisinterview with you but he slept badly on account of his un- easiness about his club debts. In the middle of the nightheheardasofttreadpasshisdoor, soherose and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin walking very stealthily along the passage until she disappearedintoyourdressing-room. Petrifiedwith astonishment, the lad slipped on some clothes and waitedthereinthedarktoseewhatwouldcomeof this strange affair. Presently she emerged from the roomagain,andinthelightofthepassage-lampyour sonsawthatshecarriedthepreciouscoronetinher hands. Shepasseddownthestairs,andhe,thrilling withhorror,ranalongandslippedbehindthecurtain nearyourdoor,whencehecouldseewhatpassedin thehallbeneath. Hesawherstealthilyopenthewin- dow,handoutthecoronettosomeoneinthegloom, andthenclosingitoncemorehurrybacktoherroom, passingquiteclosetowherehestoodhidbehindthe curtain.</s>“Aslongasshewasonthescenehecouldnottake anyactionwithoutahorribleexposureofthewoman whomheloved. Buttheinstantthatshewasgonehe realisedhowcrushingamisfortunethiswouldbefor you,andhowall-importantitwastosetitright. He rusheddown,justashewas,inhisbarefeet,opened thewindow,sprangoutintothesnow,andrandown the lane, where he could see a dark figure in the moonlight. SirGeorgeBurnwelltriedtogetaway,but Arthurcaughthim,andtherewasastrugglebetween them,yourladtuggingatonesideofthecoronet,and his opponent at the other. In the scuffle, your son struck Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then somethingsuddenlysnapped,andyourson,finding that he had the coronet in his hands, rushed back, closedthewindow,ascendedtoyourroom,andhad justobservedthatthecoronethadbeentwistedinthe struggleandwasendeavouringtostraightenitwhen youappeareduponthescene.” “Isitpossible?”gaspedthebanker.</s>“Youthenrousedhisangerbycallinghimnames atamomentwhenhefeltthathehaddeservedyour warmestthanks. Hecouldnotexplainthetruestateof affairswithoutbetrayingonewhocertainlydeserved littleenoughconsiderationathishands. Hetookthe more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her secret.” “Andthatwaswhysheshriekedandfaintedwhen shesawthecoronet,”criedMr.Holder. “Oh,myGod! 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 ofthestruggle. HowcruellyIhavemisjudgedhim!” “WhenIarrivedatthehouse,”continuedHolmes, “I at once went very carefully round it to observe if therewereanytracesinthesnowwhichmighthelp me. I knew that none had fallen since the evening before,andalsothattherehadbeenastrongfrostto preserveimpressions. Ipassedalongthetradesmen’s path, but found it all trampled down and indistin- guishable. 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 thattheyhadbeendisturbed,forthewomanhadrun backswiftlytothedoor,aswasshownbythedeeptoe andlightheelmarks,whileWooden-leghadwaiteda little,andthenhadgoneaway. Ithoughtatthetime that this might be the maid and her sweetheart, of whom you had already spoken to me, and inquiry showeditwasso. Ipassedroundthegardenwithout seeing anything more than random tracks, which I took to be the police; but when I got into the stable laneaverylongandcomplexstorywaswritteninthe snowinfrontofme.</s>“There was a double line of tracks of a booted man,andaseconddoublelinewhichIsawwithde- lightbelongedtoamanwithnakedfeet. Iwasatonce convincedfromwhatyouhadtoldmethatthelatter wasyourson. Thefirsthadwalkedbothways,butthe otherhadrunswiftly,andashistreadwasmarkedin placesoverthedepressionoftheboot,itwasobvious thathehadpassedaftertheother. Ifollowedthemup andfoundtheyledtothehallwindow,whereBoots had worn all the snow away while waiting. Then I walkedtotheotherend,whichwasahundredyards ormoredownthelane. IsawwhereBootshadfaced round, where the snow was cut up as though there hadbeenastruggle,and,finally,whereafewdropsof bloodhadfallen,toshowmethatIwasnotmistaken.</s>Bootshadthenrundownthelane,andanotherlittle smudgeofbloodshowedthatitwashewhohadbeen hurt. Whenhecametothehighroadattheotherend, Ifoundthatthepavementhadbeencleared,sothere wasanendtothatclue.</s>“Onenteringthehouse,however,Iexamined,as you remember, the sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and I could at once see that someonehadpassedout. Icoulddistinguishtheout- lineofaninstepwherethewetfoothadbeenplaced incomingin. Iwasthenbeginningtobeabletoform an opinion as to what had occurred. A man had waited outside the window; someone had broughtthegems;thedeedhadbeenoverseenbyyourson;he hadpursuedthethief;hadstruggledwithhim;they hadeachtuggedatthecoronet,theirunitedstrength causing injuries which neither alone could have ef- fected. Hehadreturnedwiththeprize,buthadlefta fragment in the grasp of his opponent. So far I was clear. Thequestionnowwas,whowasthemanand whowasitbroughthimthecoronet? “It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excludedtheimpossible,whateverremains,however improbable, must be the truth. Now, I knew that it wasnotyouwhohadbroughtitdown,sothereonly remained your niece and the maids. But if it were themaids,whyshouldyoursonallowhimselftobe 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 thatwindow,andhowshehadfaintedonseeingthe coronetagain,myconjecturebecameacertainty.</s>“Andwhocoulditbewhowasherconfederate? A lover evidently, for who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must feel to you? I knewthatyouwentoutlittle,andthatyourcircleof friendswasaverylimitedone. Butamongthemwas Sir George Burnwell. I had heard of him before as beingamanofevilreputationamongwomen. Itmust havebeenhewhoworethosebootsandretainedthe missinggems. EventhoughheknewthatArthurhad discoveredhim,hemightstillflatterhimselfthathe was safe, for the lad could not say a word without compromisinghisownfamily.</s>“Well, your own good sense will suggest what measuresItooknext. Iwentintheshapeofaloafer toSirGeorge’shouse,managedtopickupanacquain- tancewithhisvalet,learnedthathismasterhadcut hisheadthenightbefore,and,finally,attheexpense of six shillings, made all sure by buying a pair of his cast-off shoes. With these I journeyed down to Streathamandsawthattheyexactlyfittedthetracks.” “Isawanill-dressedvagabondinthelaneyester- dayevening,”saidMr.Holder.</s>“Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came home and changed my clothes. It was a delicatepartwhichIhadtoplaythen,forIsawthat aprosecutionmustbeavoidedtoavertscandal,andI knewthatsoastuteavillainwouldseethatourhands weretiedinthematter. Iwentandsawhim. Atfirst, ofcourse,hedeniedeverything. ButwhenIgavehim everyparticularthathadoccurred,hetriedtobluster andtookdownalife-preserverfromthewall. Iknew myman,however,andIclappedapistoltohishead beforehecouldstrike. Thenhebecamealittlemore reasonable. Itoldhimthatwewouldgivehimaprice for the stones he held—£1000 apiece. That brought out the first signs of grief that he had shown. ‘Why, dashitall!’ saidhe,‘I’veletthemgoatsixhundred for the three!’ I soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had them, on promising him that therewouldbenoprosecution. OffIsettohim,and aftermuchchafferingIgotourstonesat1000pounds apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him thatallwasright,andeventuallygottomybedabout twoo’clock,afterwhatImaycallareallyhardday’s work.” “A day which has saved England from a great publicscandal,”saidthebanker,rising. “Sir,Icannot find words to thank you, but you shall not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your skill has indeedexceededallthatIhaveheardofit. Andnow Imustflytomydearboytoapologisetohimforthe wrong which I have done him. As to what you tell meofpoorMary,itgoestomyveryheart. Noteven yourskillcaninformmewheresheisnow.” “Ithinkthatwemaysafelysay,”returnedHolmes, “that she is wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equallycertain,too,thatwhateverhersinsare,they willsoonreceiveamorethansufficientpunishment.”othemanwholovesartforitsownsake,” remarked Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily Tele- T graph,“itisfrequentlyinitsleastimportant andlowliestmanifestationsthatthekeenestpleasure istobederived. Itispleasanttometoobserve,Wat- son, that you have so far grasped this truth that in theselittlerecordsofourcaseswhichyouhavebeen goodenoughtodrawup,and,Iamboundtosay,occa- sionallytoembellish,youhavegivenprominencenot so much to the many causes ce´le`bres and sensational trialsinwhichIhavefiguredbutrathertothoseinci- dentswhichmayhavebeentrivialinthemselves,but whichhavegivenroomforthosefacultiesofdeduc- tion and of logical synthesis which I have made my specialprovince.” “And yet,” said I, smiling, “I cannot quite hold myself absolved from the charge of sensationalism whichhasbeenurgedagainstmyrecords.” “You have erred, perhaps,” he observed, taking upaglowingcinderwiththetongsandlightingwith it the long cherry-wood pipe which was wont to re- place his clay when he was in a disputatious rather thanameditativemood—“youhaveerredperhapsin attempting to put colour and life into each of your statementsinsteadofconfiningyourselftothetaskof placinguponrecordthatseverereasoningfromcause toeffectwhichisreallytheonlynotablefeatureabout thething.” “ItseemstomethatIhavedoneyoufulljusticein thematter,”Iremarkedwithsomecoldness,forIwas repelledbytheegotismwhichIhadmorethanonce observedtobeastrongfactorinmyfriend’ssingular character.</s>“No, it is not selfishness or conceit,” said he, an- swering, 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. Crimeiscommon. Logicisrare. Thereforeit isuponthelogicratherthanuponthecrimethatyou shoulddwell. Youhavedegradedwhatshouldhave beenacourseoflecturesintoaseriesoftales.” 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 downbetweenthelinesofdun-colouredhouses,and the opposing windows loomed like dark, shapeless blurs through the heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas waslitandshoneonthewhiteclothandglimmerof chinaandmetal,forthetablehadnotbeenclearedyet.</s>SherlockHolmeshadbeensilentallthemorning,dip- pingcontinuouslyintotheadvertisementcolumnsof asuccessionofpapersuntilatlast,havingapparently givenuphissearch,hehademergedinnoverysweet tempertolecturemeuponmyliteraryshortcomings.</s>“At the same time,” he remarked after a pause, duringwhichhehadsatpuffingathislongpipeand 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,afairproportiondonottreatofcrime,initslegal sense,atall. ThesmallmatterinwhichIendeavoured tohelptheKingofBohemia,thesingularexperience ofMissMarySutherland,theproblemconnectedwith themanwiththetwistedlip,andtheincidentofthe noblebachelor,wereallmatterswhichareoutsidethe paleofthelaw. Butinavoidingthesensational,Ifear thatyoumayhaveborderedonthetrivial.” “Theendmayhavebeenso,”Ianswered,“butthe methodsIholdtohavebeennovelandofinterest.” “Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public, the great unobservant public, who could hardly tell a weaverbyhistoothoracompositorbyhisleftthumb, careaboutthefinershadesofanalysisanddeduction! But,indeed,ifyouaretrivial,Icannotblameyou,for thedaysofthegreatcasesarepast. Man,oratleast criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality.</s>Astomyownlittlepractice,itseemstobedegenerat- ingintoanagencyforrecoveringlostleadpencilsand givingadvicetoyoungladiesfromboarding-schools.</s>I think that I have touched bottom at last, however.</s>ThisnoteIhadthismorningmarksmyzero-point,I fancy. Readit!”Hetossedacrumpledletteracrossto me.</s>ItwasdatedfromMontaguePlaceuponthepre- cedingevening,andranthus: DearMr.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-morrowifIdonotinconvenienceyou.</s>—Yoursfaithfully, VioletHunter.</s>“Doyouknowtheyounglady?”Iasked.</s>“NotI.” “Itishalf-pasttennow.” “Yes,andIhavenodoubtthatisherring.” “It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You remember that the affair of the blue car- buncle, which appeared to be a mere whim at first,developed into a serious investigation. It may be so inthiscase,also.” “Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soonbesolved,forhere,unlessIammuchmistaken, isthepersoninquestion.” As he spoke the door opened and a young lady enteredtheroom. Shewasplainlybutneatlydressed, withabright,quickface,freckledlikeaplover’segg, andwiththebriskmannerofawomanwhohashad herownwaytomakeintheworld.</s>“You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure,” said she, as my companion rose to greet her, “but I havehadaverystrangeexperience,andasIhaveno parents or relations of any sort from whom I could askadvice,Ithoughtthatperhapsyouwouldbekind enoughtotellmewhatIshoulddo.” “Praytakeaseat,MissHunter. Ishallbehappyto doanythingthatIcantoserveyou.” IcouldseethatHolmeswasfavourablyimpressed 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-tipstogether,tolistentoherstory.</s>“Ihavebeenagovernessforfiveyears,”saidshe, “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 toAmericawithhim,sothatIfoundmyselfwithout a situation. I advertised, and I answered advertise- ments, but without success. At last the little money which I had saved began to run short, and I was at mywit’sendastowhatIshoulddo.</s>“Thereisawell-knownagencyforgovernessesin theWestEndcalledWestaway’s,andthereIusedto call about once a week in order to see whether any- thinghadturnedupwhichmightsuitme. Westaway wasthenameofthefounderofthebusiness,butitis reallymanagedbyMissStoper. Shesitsinherownlit- tleoffice,andtheladieswhoareseekingemployment wait in an anteroom, and are then shown in one by one,whensheconsultsherledgersandseeswhether shehasanythingwhichwouldsuitthem.</s>“Well, when I called last week I was shown into thelittleofficeasusual,butIfoundthatMissStoper wasnotalone. Aprodigiouslystoutmanwithavery smiling face and a great heavy chin which rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat sat at her el- bowwithapairofglassesonhisnose,lookingvery earnestlyattheladieswhoentered. AsIcameinhe gavequiteajumpinhischairandturnedquicklyto MissStoper.</s>“‘Thatwilldo,’saidhe;‘Icouldnotaskforany- thing better. Capital! capital!’ He seemed quite en- thusiasticandrubbedhishandstogetherinthemost genial fashion. He was such a comfortable-looking manthatitwasquiteapleasuretolookathim.</s>“‘Youarelookingforasituation,miss?’ heasked.</s>“‘Yes,sir.’ “‘Asgoverness?’ “‘Yes,sir.’ “‘Andwhatsalarydoyouask?’ “‘Ihad£4amonthinmylastplacewithColonel SpenceMunro.’ “‘Oh,tut,tut! sweating—ranksweating!’ hecried, throwing his fat hands out into the air like a man whoisinaboilingpassion. ‘Howcouldanyoneoffer so pitiful a sum to a lady with such attractions and accomplishments?’ “‘Myaccomplishments,sir,maybelessthanyou imagine,’saidI.‘AlittleFrench,alittleGerman,mu- sic,anddrawing—’ “‘Tut, tut!’ he cried. ‘This is all quite beside the question. Thepointis,haveyouorhaveyounotthe bearing and deportment of a lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are not fitted for the rearingofachildwhomaysomedayplayaconsider- ablepartinthehistoryofthecountry. Butifyouhave why,then,howcouldanygentlemanaskyoutocon- descendtoacceptanythingunderthethreefigures? Your salary with me, madam, would commence at £100ayear.’ “Youmayimagine,Mr.Holmes,thattome,desti- tuteasIwas,suchanofferseemedalmosttoogoodto betrue. Thegentleman,however,seeingperhapsthe look of incredulity upon my face, opened a pocket- bookandtookoutanote.</s>“‘It is also my custom,’ said he, smiling in the most pleasant fashion until his eyes were just two littleshiningslitsamidthewhitecreasesofhisface, ‘to advance to my young ladies half their salary be- forehand, so that they may meet any little expenses oftheirjourneyandtheirwardrobe.’ “It seemed to me that I had never met so fasci- nating and so thoughtful a man. As I was already in debt to my tradesmen, the advance was a great convenience,andyettherewassomethingunnatural aboutthewholetransactionwhichmademewishto knowalittlemorebeforeIquitecommittedmyself.</s>“‘MayIaskwhereyoulive,sir?’ saidI.</s>“‘Hampshire. Charmingruralplace. TheCopper Beeches,fivemilesonthefarsideofWinchester. Itisthemostlovelycountry,mydearyounglady,andthe dearestoldcountry-house.’ “‘And my duties, sir? I should be glad to know whattheywouldbe.’ “‘Onechild—onedearlittleromperjustsixyears old. Oh,ifyoucouldseehimkillingcockroacheswith aslipper! Smack! smack! smack! Threegonebefore you could wink!’ He leaned back in his chair and laughedhiseyesintohisheadagain.</s>“Iwasalittlestartledatthenatureofthechild’s amusement,butthefather’slaughtermademethink thatperhapshewasjoking.</s>“‘Mysoleduties,then,’Iasked,‘aretotakecharge ofasinglechild?’ “‘No,no,notthesole,notthesole,mydearyoung lady,’ he cried. ‘Your duty would be, as I am sure yourgoodsensewouldsuggest,toobeyanylittlecom- mandsmywifemightgive,providedalwaysthatthey weresuchcommandsasaladymightwithpropriety obey. Youseenodifficulty,heh?’ “‘Ishouldbehappytomakemyselfuseful.’ “‘Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are faddypeople,youknow—faddybutkind-hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress which we might give you, you would not object to our little whim.</s>Heh?’ “‘No,’ said I, considerably astonished at his words.</s>“‘Or to sit here, or sit there, that would not be offensivetoyou?’ “‘Oh,no.’ “‘Ortocutyourhairquiteshortbeforeyoucome tous?’ “Icouldhardlybelievemyears. Asyoumayob- serve, Mr. Holmes, my hair is somewhat luxuriant, andofaratherpeculiartintofchestnut. Ithasbeen consideredartistic. Icouldnotdreamofsacrificingit inthisoffhandfashion.</s>“‘I am afraid that that is quite impossible,’ said I.Hehadbeenwatchingmeeagerlyoutofhissmall eyes,andIcouldseeashadowpassoverhisfaceasI spoke.</s>“‘Iamafraidthatitisquiteessential,’saidhe. ‘It isalittlefancyofmywife’s,andladies’fancies,you know,madam,ladies’fanciesmustbeconsulted. And soyouwon’tcutyourhair?’ “‘No,sir,Ireallycouldnot,’Iansweredfirmly.</s>“‘Ah,verywell;thenthatquitesettlesthematter.</s>Itisapity,becauseinotherrespectsyouwouldreally havedoneverynicely. Inthatcase,MissStoper,Ihad bestinspectafewmoreofyouryoungladies.’ “Themanageresshadsatallthiswhilebusywith her papers without a word to either of us, but she glanced at me now with so much annoyance upon herfacethatIcouldnothelpsuspectingthatshehad lostahandsomecommissionthroughmyrefusal.</s>“‘Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books?’ sheasked.</s>“‘Ifyouplease,MissStoper.’ “‘Well, really, it seems rather useless, since you refusethemostexcellentoffersinthisfashion,’said she sharply. ‘You can hardly expect us to exert our- selves to find another such opening for you. Good- daytoyou,MissHunter.’ Shestruckagonguponthe table,andIwasshownoutbythepage.</s>“Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodg- ingsandfoundlittleenoughinthecupboard,andtwo or three bills upon the table. I began to ask myself whether I had not done a very foolish thing. After all,ifthesepeoplehadstrangefadsandexpectedobe- dienceonthemostextraordinarymatters,theywere at least ready to pay for their eccentricity. Very few governesses in England are getting £100 a year. Be- sides,whatusewasmyhairtome? Manypeopleare improved by wearing it short and perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I was inclined to thinkthatIhadmadeamistake,andbythedayafter Iwassureofit. Ihadalmostovercomemyprideso farastogobacktotheagencyandinquirewhether the place was still open when I received this letter fromthegentlemanhimself. IhaveithereandIwill readittoyou: “‘TheCopperBeeches,nearWinchester.</s>“‘DearMissHunter: “‘MissStoperhasverykindlygivenme youraddress,andIwritefromheretoask youwhetheryouhavereconsideredyour decision. My wife is very anxious that youshouldcome,forshehasbeenmuch attracted by my description of you. We are willing to give £30 a quarter, or £120 a year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience which our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. My wife is fond of a particu- lar shade of electric blue and would like you to wear such a dress indoors in the morning. Youneednot,however,gotothe expenseofpurchasingone,aswehaveone belongingtomydeardaughterAlice(now in Philadelphia), which would, I shouldthink,fityouverywell. Then,astositting hereorthere,oramusingyourselfinany mannerindicated,thatneedcauseyouno inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no doubt a pity, especially as I could nothelpremarkingitsbeautyduringour shortinterview,butIamafraidthatImust remain firm upon this point, and I only hopethattheincreasedsalarymayrecom- penseyoufortheloss. Yourduties,asfar as the child is concerned, are very light.</s>Nowdotrytocome,andIshallmeetyou with the dog-cart at Winchester. Let me knowyourtrain.</s>—“‘Yoursfaithfully, “‘JephroRucastle.’ “ThatistheletterwhichIhavejustreceived,Mr.</s>Holmes,andmymindismadeupthatIwillaccept it. I thought, however, that before taking the final stepIshouldliketosubmitthewholemattertoyour consideration.” “Well,MissHunter,ifyourmindismadeup,that settlesthequestion,”saidHolmes,smiling.</s>“Butyouwouldnotadvisemetorefuse?” “IconfessthatitisnotthesituationwhichIshould liketoseeasisterofmineapplyfor.” “Whatisthemeaningofitall,Mr.Holmes?” “Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you haveyourselfformedsomeopinion?” “Well, there seems to me to be only one possi- blesolution. Mr.Rucastleseemedtobeaverykind, good-naturedman. Isitnotpossiblethathiswifeis alunatic,thathedesirestokeepthematterquietfor fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that he humoursherfanciesineverywayinordertoprevent anoutbreak?” “That is a possible solution—in fact, as matters stand, it is the most probable one. But in any case itdoesnotseemtobeanicehouseholdforayoung lady.” “Butthemoney,Mr.Holmes,themoney!” “Well, yes, of course the pay is good—too good.</s>Thatiswhatmakesmeuneasy. Whyshouldtheygive you£120ayear,whentheycouldhavetheirpickfor £40? Theremustbesomestrongreasonbehind.” “IthoughtthatifItoldyouthecircumstancesyou wouldunderstandafterwardsifIwantedyourhelp. I shouldfeelsomuchstrongerifIfeltthatyouwereat thebackofme.” “Oh,youmaycarrythatfeelingawaywithyou. I assureyouthatyourlittleproblempromisestobethe 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 doubtorindanger—” “Danger! Whatdangerdoyouforesee?” Holmes shook his head gravely. “It would cease tobeadangerifwecoulddefineit,”saidhe. “Butat any time, day or night, a telegram would bring me downtoyourhelp.” “Thatisenough.”Sherosebrisklyfromherchair withtheanxietyallsweptfromherface. “Ishallgo down to Hampshire quite easy in my mind now. I shallwritetoMr.Rucastleatonce,sacrificemypoor hair to-night, and start for Winchester to-morrow.” With a few grateful words to Holmes she bade us bothgood-nightandbustledoffuponherway.</s>“Atleast,”saidIasweheardherquick,firmsteps descendingthestairs,“sheseemstobeayounglady whoisverywellabletotakecareofherself.” “Andshewouldneedtobe,”saidHolmesgravely.</s>“I am much mistaken if we do not hear from her beforemanydaysarepast.” Itwasnotverylongbeforemyfriend’sprediction was fulfilled. A fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts turning in her direc- tion and wondering what strange side-alley of hu- manexperiencethislonelywomanhadstrayedinto.</s>Theunusualsalary,thecuriousconditions,thelight 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 powerstodetermine. AstoHolmes,Iobservedthat hesatfrequentlyforhalfanhouronend,withknitted browsandanabstractedair,buthesweptthematter away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it.</s>“Data! data! data!”hecriedimpatiently. “Ican’tmake brickswithoutclay.”Andyethewouldalwayswind upbymutteringthatnosisterofhisshouldeverhave acceptedsuchasituation.</s>Thetelegramwhichweeventuallyreceivedcame lateonenightjustasIwasthinkingofturninginand Holmes was settling down to one of those all-night chemicalresearcheswhichhefrequentlyindulgedin, whenIwouldleavehimstoopingoveraretortanda test-tubeatnightandfindhiminthesameposition when I came down to breakfast in the morning. He openedtheyellowenvelope,andthen,glancingatthe message,threwitacrosstome.“JustlookupthetrainsinBradshaw,”saidhe,and turnedbacktohischemicalstudies.</s>Thesummonswasabriefandurgentone.</s>Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchesteratmiddayto-morrow[itsaid].</s>Docome! Iamatmywit’send.</s>—Hunter.</s>“Willyoucomewithme?”askedHolmes,glancing up.</s>“Ishouldwishto.” “Justlookitup,then.” “Thereisatrainathalf-pastnine,”saidI,glancing overmyBradshaw. “ItisdueatWinchesterat11.30.” “That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the acetones, as we mayneedtobeatourbestinthemorning.” Byeleveno’clockthenextdaywewerewellupon ourwaytotheoldEnglishcapital. Holmeshadbeen buriedinthemorningpapersallthewaydown,but afterwehadpassedtheHampshireborderhethrew themdownandbegantoadmirethescenery. Itwas anidealspringday,alightbluesky,fleckedwithlittle fleecywhitecloudsdriftingacrossfromwesttoeast.</s>Thesunwasshiningverybrightly,andyettherewas anexhilaratingnipintheair,whichsetanedgetoa man’senergy. Alloverthecountryside, awaytothe rollinghillsaroundAldershot,thelittleredandgrey roofsofthefarm-steadingspeepedoutfromamidthe lightgreenofthenewfoliage.</s>“Aretheynotfreshandbeautiful?”Icriedwithall theenthusiasmofamanfreshfromthefogsofBaker Street.</s>ButHolmesshookhisheadgravely.</s>“Doyouknow,Watson,”saidhe,“thatitisoneof thecursesofamindwithaturnlikeminethatImust lookateverythingwithreferencetomyownspecial subject. Youlookatthesescatteredhouses,andyou areimpressedbytheirbeauty. Ilookatthem,andthe onlythoughtwhichcomestomeisafeelingoftheir isolationandoftheimpunitywithwhichcrimemay becommittedthere.” “Good heavens!” I cried. “Who would associate crimewiththesedearoldhomesteads?” “They always fill me with a certain horror. It is mybelief,Watson,foundeduponmyexperience,that thelowestandvilestalleysinLondondonotpresent amoredreadfulrecordofsinthandoesthesmiling andbeautifulcountryside.” “Youhorrifyme!” “Butthereasonisveryobvious. Thepressureof publicopinioncandointhetownwhatthelawcannot accomplish. Thereisnolanesovilethatthescream ofatorturedchild,orthethudofadrunkard’sblow, doesnotbegetsympathyandindignationamongthe neighbours,andthenthewholemachineryofjustice is ever so close that a word of complaint can set it going,andthereisbutastepbetweenthecrimeand thedock. Butlookattheselonelyhouses,eachinits ownfields,filledforthemostpartwithpoorignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the deeds ofhellishcruelty,thehiddenwickednesswhichmay goon,yearin,yearout,insuchplaces,andnonethe wiser. Hadthisladywhoappealstousforhelpgone toliveinWinchester,Ishouldneverhavehadafear for her. It is the five miles of country which makes thedanger. Still,itisclearthatsheisnotpersonally threatened.” “No. IfshecancometoWinchestertomeetusshe cangetaway.” “Quiteso. Shehasherfreedom.” “What can be the matter, then? Can you suggest noexplanation?” “Ihavedevisedsevenseparateexplanations,each of which would cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is correct can only be de- terminedbythefreshinformationwhichweshallno doubtfindwaitingforus. Well,thereisthetowerof the cathedral, and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunterhastotell.” The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street,atnodistancefromthestation,andtherewe found the young lady waiting for us. She had en- gagedasitting-room,andourlunchawaitedusupon thetable.</s>“Iamsodelightedthatyouhavecome,”shesaid earnestly. “Itissoverykindofyouboth;butindeedI do not know what I should do. Your advice will be altogetherinvaluabletome.” “Praytelluswhathashappenedtoyou.” “I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promisedMr.Rucastletobebackbeforethree. Igot hisleavetocomeintotownthismorning,thoughhe littleknewforwhatpurpose.” “Letushaveeverythinginitsdueorder.”Holmes thrust his long thin legs out towards the fire and composedhimselftolisten.</s>“In the first place, I may say that I have met, on thewhole,withnoactualill-treatmentfromMr.and Mrs.Rucastle. Itisonlyfairtothemtosaythat. ButI cannotunderstand them, and Iam not easyin my mindaboutthem.” “Whatcanyounotunderstand?” “Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall haveitalljustasitoccurred. WhenIcamedown,Mr.</s>Rucastle met me here and drove me in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he said, beautifully situated,butitisnotbeautifulinitself,foritisalarge squareblockofahouse,whitewashed,butallstained andstreakedwithdampandbadweather. Thereare grounds round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourthafieldwhichslopesdowntotheSouthampton highroad,whichcurvespastaboutahundredyards fromthefrontdoor. Thisgroundinfrontbelongsto thehouse,butthewoodsallroundarepartofLord Southerton’s preserves. A clump of copper beeches immediately in front of the hall door has given its nametotheplace.</s>“I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and was introduced by him that eveningtohiswifeandthechild. Therewasnotruth, Mr.Holmes,intheconjecturewhichseemedtousto beprobablein yourrooms atBakerStreet. Mrs.Ru- castleisnotmad. Ifoundhertobeasilent,pale-faced woman,muchyoungerthanherhusband,notmore thanthirty,Ishouldthink,whilehecanhardlybeless thanforty-five. FromtheirconversationIhavegath- eredthattheyhavebeenmarriedaboutsevenyears, thathewasawidower,andthathisonlychildbythe firstwifewasthedaughterwhohasgonetoPhiladel- phia. Mr.Rucastletoldmeinprivatethatthereason whyshehadleftthemwasthatshehadanunreason- ingaversiontoherstepmother. Asthedaughtercould not have been less than twenty, I can quite imagine thatherpositionmusthavebeenuncomfortablewith herfather’syoungwife.</s>“Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mindaswellasinfeature. Sheimpressedmeneither 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 greyeyeswanderedcontinuallyfromonetotheother, notingeverylittlewantandforestallingitifpossible.</s>Hewaskindtoheralsoinhisbluff,boisterousfashion, andonthewholetheyseemedtobeahappycouple.</s>Andyetshehadsomesecretsorrow,thiswoman. She wouldoftenbelostindeepthought,withthesaddest lookuponherface. MorethanonceIhavesurprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was thedispositionofherchildwhichweigheduponher mind,forIhavenevermetsoutterlyspoiledandso ill-natured a little creature. He is small for his age, withaheadwhichisquitedisproportionatelylarge.</s>His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation betweensavagefitsofpassionandgloomyintervals ofsulking. Givingpaintoanycreatureweakerthan himselfseemstobehisoneideaofamusement,and heshowsquiteremarkabletalentinplanningthecap- ture of mice, little birds, and insects. But I would rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed,hehaslittletodowithmystory.” “I am glad of all details,” remarked my friend, “whethertheyseemtoyoutoberelevantornot.” “I shall try not to miss anything of importance.</s>The one unpleasant thing about the house, which struckmeatonce,wastheappearanceandconduct of the servants. There are only two, a man and his wife. Toller,forthatishisname,isarough,uncouth man,withgrizzledhairandwhiskers,andaperpetual smellofdrink. TwicesinceIhavebeenwiththemhe hasbeenquitedrunk,andyetMr.Rucastleseemedto takenonoticeofit. Hiswifeisaverytallandstrong woman with a sour face, as silent as Mrs. Rucastle andmuchlessamiable. Theyareamostunpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time in thenurseryandmyownroom,whicharenexttoeach otherinonecornerofthebuilding.</s>“For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was very quiet; on the third, Mrs.</s>Rucastle came down just after breakfast and whis- peredsomethingtoherhusband.</s>“‘Oh, yes,’ said he, turning to me, ‘we are very muchobligedtoyou,MissHunter,forfallinginwith our whims so far as to cut your hair. I assure you thatithasnotdetractedinthetiniestiotafromyour appearance. Weshallnowseehowtheelectric-blue dresswillbecomeyou. Youwillfinditlaidoutupon the bed in your room, and if you would be so good astoputitonweshouldbothbeextremelyobliged.’ “ThedresswhichIfoundwaitingformewasofa peculiarshadeofblue. Itwasofexcellentmaterial,a sortofbeige,butitboreunmistakablesignsofhaving been worn before. It could not have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. and Mrs.</s>Rucastleexpressedadelightatthelookofit,which seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They werewaitingformeinthedrawing-room,whichisa very large room, stretching along the entire front of thehouse,withthreelongwindowsreachingdownto thefloor. Achairhadbeenplacedclosetothecentral window,withitsbackturnedtowardsit. InthisIwas askedtosit,andthenMr.Rucastle,walkingupand downontheothersideoftheroom,begantotellmeaseriesofthefunnieststoriesthatIhaveeverlistened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laugheduntilIwasquiteweary. Mrs.Rucastle,how- ever, who has evidently no sense of humour, never somuchassmiled,butsatwithherhandsinherlap, andasad,anxiouslookuponherface. Afteranhour or so, Mr. Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the day, and that I mightchangemydressandgotolittleEdwardinthe nursery.</s>“Twodayslaterthissameperformancewasgone throughunderexactlysimilarcircumstances. 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 re´pertoire, and which he told inimitably. Then he handed me ayellow-backednovel,andmovingmychairalittle sideways,thatmyownshadowmightnotfallupon thepage,hebeggedmetoreadaloudtohim. Iread for about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then suddenly, in the middle of a sen- tence,heorderedmetoceaseandtochangemydress.</s>“Youcaneasilyimagine,Mr.Holmes,howcurious Ibecameastowhatthemeaningofthisextraordinary performance could possibly be. They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from thewindow,sothatIbecameconsumedwiththede- sire to see what was going on behind my back. At firstitseemedtobeimpossible,butIsoondeviseda means. Myhand-mirrorhadbeenbroken,soahappy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in themidstofmylaughter,Iputmyhandkerchiefup 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 wasmyfirstimpression. Atthesecondglance,how- ever,Iperceivedthattherewasamanstandinginthe Southampton Road, a small bearded man in a grey suit,whoseemedtobelookinginmydirection. The roadisanimportanthighway,andthereareusually peoplethere. Thisman,however,wasleaningagainst therailingswhichborderedourfieldandwaslooking earnestlyup. Iloweredmyhandkerchiefandglanced atMrs.Rucastletofindhereyesfixeduponmewith a most searching gaze. She said nothing, but I am convinced that she had divined that I had a mirror inmyhandandhadseenwhatwasbehindme. She roseatonce.</s>“‘Jephro,’saidshe,‘thereisanimpertinentfellow upontheroadtherewhostaresupatMissHunter.’ “‘Nofriendofyours,MissHunter?’ heasked.</s>“‘No,Iknownooneintheseparts.’ “‘Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn roundandmotiontohimtogoaway.’ “‘Surelyitwouldbebettertotakenonotice.’ “‘No, no, we should have him loitering here al- ways. Kindly turn round and wave him away like that.’ “IdidasIwastold,andatthesameinstantMrs.</s>Rucastledrewdowntheblind. Thatwasaweekago, andfromthattimeIhavenotsatagaininthewindow, norhaveIwornthebluedress,norseenthemanin theroad.” “Pray continue,” said Holmes. “Your narrative promisestobeamostinterestingone.” “You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and theremayprovetobelittlerelationbetweenthedif- ferent 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 kitchendoor. AsweapproacheditIheardthesharp rattlingofachain,andthesoundasofalargeanimal movingabout.</s>“‘Lookinhere!’ saidMr.Rucastle,showingmea slitbetweentwoplanks. ‘Ishenotabeauty?’ “Ilookedthroughandwasconsciousoftwoglow- ing eyes, and of a vague figure huddled up in the darkness.</s>“‘Don’tbefrightened,’saidmyemployer,laugh- ing at the start which I had given. ‘It’s only Carlo, mymastiff. Icallhimmine,butreallyoldToller,my groom, is the only man who can do anything with him. Wefeedhimonceaday,andnottoomuchthen, 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’tyoueveronanypretextsetyourfootoverthe threshold at night, for it’s as much as your life is worth.’ “Thewarningwasnoidleone,fortwonightslater Ihappenedtolookoutofmybedroomwindowabout twoo’clockinthemorning. Itwasabeautifulmoon- light night, and the lawn in front of the house was silveredoverandalmostasbrightasday. Iwasstand- ing, rapt in the peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was aware that something was moving under the shadowofthecopperbeeches. Asitemergedintothe moonshineIsawwhatitwas. Itwasagiantdog,as largeasacalf,tawnytinted,withhangingjowl,black muzzle,andhugeprojectingbones. Itwalkedslowly acrossthelawnandvanishedintotheshadowupon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a chill tomyheartwhichIdonotthinkthatanyburglarcould havedone.</s>“AndnowIhaveaverystrangeexperiencetotell you. Ihad, asyouknow, cutoffmyhairinLondon, andIhadplaceditinagreatcoilatthebottomofmy trunk. Oneevening,afterthechildwasinbed,Ibegan to amuse myself by examining the furniture of my roomandbyrearrangingmyownlittlethings. There was an old chest of drawers in the room, the two upperonesemptyandopen,theloweronelocked. 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 thatitmighthavebeenfastenedbyamereoversight, so I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it.</s>Theveryfirstkeyfittedtoperfection,andIdrewthe draweropen. Therewasonlyonethinginit,butIam surethatyouwouldneverguesswhatitwas. Itwas mycoilofhair.</s>“Itookitupandexaminedit. Itwasofthesame peculiar tint, and the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing obtruded itself upon me.</s>Howcouldmyhairhavebeenlockedinthedrawer? WithtremblinghandsIundidmytrunk,turnedout thecontents,anddrewfromthebottommyownhair.</s>Ilaidthetwotressestogether,andIassureyouthat they were identical. Was it not extraordinary? Puz- zle as I would, I could make nothing at all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer, andIsaidnothingofthemattertotheRucastlesasI feltthatIhadputmyselfinthewrongbyopeninga drawerwhichtheyhadlocked.</s>“I am naturally observant, as you may have re- marked, Mr. Holmes, and I soon had a pretty good planofthewholehouseinmyhead. Therewasone wing,however,whichappearednottobeinhabitedat all. Adoorwhichfacedthatwhichledintothequar- ters of the Tollers opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked. One day, however, as I ascended thestair,ImetMr.Rucastlecomingoutthroughthis door, his keys in his hand, and a look on his face whichmadehimaverydifferentpersontotheround, 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 lockedthedoorandhurriedpastmewithoutaword oralook.</s>“This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out forawalkinthegroundswithmycharge,Istrolled roundtothesidefromwhichIcouldseethewindows of this part of the house. There were four of them inarow,threeofwhichweresimplydirty,whilethe fourthwasshutteredup. Theywereevidentlyallde- serted. AsIstrolledupanddown,glancingatthem occasionally,Mr.Rucastlecameouttome,lookingas merryandjovialasever.</s>“‘Ah!’ said he, ‘you must not think me rude if I passed you without a word, my dear young lady. I waspreoccupiedwithbusinessmatters.’ “I assured him that I was not offended. ‘By the way,’saidI,‘youseemtohavequiteasuiteofspare roomsupthere,andoneofthemhastheshuttersup.’ “Helookedsurprisedand,asitseemedtome,a littlestartledatmyremark.</s>“‘Photography isone ofmyhobbies,’ said he. ‘I have made my dark room up there. But, dear me! what an observant young lady we have come upon.</s>Whowouldhavebelievedit? Whowouldhaveever believedit?’ Hespokeinajestingtone,buttherewas nojestinhiseyesashelookedatme. Ireadsuspicion thereandannoyance,butnojest.</s>“Well,Mr.Holmes,fromthemomentthatIunder- stood that there was something about that suite of roomswhichIwasnottoknow,Iwasallonfiretogo 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 pene- trating to this place. They talk of woman’s instinct; perhapsitwaswoman’sinstinctwhichgavemethat feeling. At any rate, it was there, and I was keenly onthelookoutforanychancetopasstheforbidden door.</s>“It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, besides Mr. Rucastle, both Toller andhiswifefindsomethingtodointhesedeserted rooms, and I once saw him carrying a large black linenbagwithhimthroughthedoor. Recentlyhehas been drinking hard, and yesterday evening he was verydrunk;andwhenIcameupstairstherewasthe key in the door. I have no doubt at all that he had leftitthere. Mr.andMrs.Rucastlewerebothdown- stairs,andthechildwaswiththem,sothatIhadan admirableopportunity. Iturnedthekeygentlyinthe lock,openedthedoor,andslippedthrough.</s>“There was a little passage in front of me, unpa- peredanduncarpeted,whichturnedatarightangle atthefartherend. Roundthiscornerwerethreedoors inaline,thefirstandthirdofwhichwereopen. They each led into an empty room, dusty and cheerless, withtwowindowsintheoneandoneintheother,so thickwithdirtthattheeveninglightglimmereddimly throughthem. Thecentredoorwasclosed,andacross theoutsideofithadbeenfastenedoneofthebroad bars of an iron bed, padlocked at one end to a ringinthewall,andfastenedattheotherwithstoutcord.</s>The door itself was locked as well, and the key was notthere. Thisbarricadeddoorcorrespondedclearly withtheshutteredwindowoutside, andyetIcould seebytheglimmerfrombeneathitthattheroomwas notindarkness. Evidentlytherewasaskylightwhich let in light from above. As I stood in the passage gazingatthesinisterdoorandwonderingwhatsecret it might veil, I suddenly heard the sound of steps within the room and saw a shadow pass backward andforwardagainstthelittleslitofdimlightwhich shoneoutfromunderthedoor. Amad,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 behindmeclutchingattheskirtofmydress. Irushed downthepassage,throughthedoor,andstraightinto thearmsofMr.Rucastle,whowaswaitingoutside.</s>“‘So,’saidhe,smiling,‘itwasyou,then. Ithought thatitmustbewhenIsawthedooropen.’ “‘Oh,Iamsofrightened!’ Ipanted.</s>“‘My dear young lady! my dear young lady!’—youcannotthinkhowcaressingandsoothing hismannerwas—‘andwhathasfrightenedyou,my dearyounglady?’ “But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdidit. Iwaskeenlyonmyguardagainsthim.</s>“‘Iwasfoolishenoughtogointotheemptywing,’ Ianswered. ‘Butitissolonelyandeerieinthisdim lightthatIwasfrightenedandranoutagain. Oh,it issodreadfullystillinthere!’ “‘Onlythat?’ saidhe,lookingatmekeenly.</s>“‘Why,whatdidyouthink?’ Iasked.</s>“‘WhydoyouthinkthatIlockthisdoor?’ “‘IamsurethatIdonotknow.’ “‘It is to keep people out who have no business there. Doyousee?’ Hewasstillsmilinginthemost amiablemanner.</s>“‘IamsureifIhadknown—’ “‘Well,then,youknownow. Andifyoueverput your foot over that threshold again’—here in an in- stant the smile hardened into a grin of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a demon—‘I’ll throwyoutothemastiff.’ “IwassoterrifiedthatIdonotknowwhatIdid.</s>IsupposethatImusthaverushedpasthimintomy room. IremembernothinguntilIfoundmyselflying onmybedtremblingallover. ThenIthoughtofyou, Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without some advice. I was frightened of the house, of the man,ofthewoman,oftheservants,evenofthechild.</s>They were all horrible to me. If I could only bring youdownallwouldbewell. OfcourseImighthave fledfromthehouse,butmycuriositywasalmostas 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 fromthehouse,andthenreturned,feelingverymuch easier. AhorribledoubtcameintomymindasIap- proachedthedoorlestthedogmightbeloose,butI rememberedthatTollerhaddrunkhimselfintoastate ofinsensibilitythatevening,andIknewthathewas theonlyoneinthehouseholdwhohadanyinfluence withthesavagecreature,orwhowouldventuretoset himfree. Islippedininsafetyandlayawakehalfthe night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. I had nodifficultyingettingleavetocomeintoWinchester thismorning,butImustbebackbeforethreeo’clock, for Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are going on a visit, and willbeawayalltheevening,sothatImustlookafter thechild. NowIhavetoldyouallmyadventures,Mr.</s>Holmes, and I should be very glad if you could tell me what it all means, and, above all, what I should do.” HolmesandIhadlistenedspellboundtothisex- traordinarystory. Myfriendrosenowandpacedup and down the room, his hands in his pockets, and anexpressionofthemostprofoundgravityuponhis face.</s>“IsTollerstilldrunk?”heasked.</s>“Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she coulddonothingwithhim.” “Thatiswell. AndtheRucastlesgooutto-night?” “Yes.” “Isthereacellarwithagoodstronglock?” “Yes,thewine-cellar.” “You seem to me to have acted all through this matterlikeaverybraveandsensiblegirl,MissHunter.</s>Doyouthinkthatyoucouldperformonemorefeat? IshouldnotaskitofyouifIdidnotthinkyouaquite exceptionalwoman.” “Iwilltry. Whatisit?” “We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o’clock,myfriendandI.TheRucastleswillbegone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be incapable.</s>There only remains Mrs. Toller, who might give the alarm. Ifyoucouldsendherintothecellaronsome errand, and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitatemattersimmensely.” “Iwilldoit.”“Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly into theaffair. Ofcoursethereisonlyonefeasibleexpla- nation. 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 Al- ice 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 ofyourhair. Hershadbeencutoff,verypossiblyin someillnessthroughwhichshehaspassed,andso,of course,yourshadtobesacrificedalso. Byacurious chance you came upon her tresses. The man in the roadwasundoubtedlysomefriendofhers—possibly herfiance´—andnodoubt,asyouworethegirl’sdress and were so like her, he was convinced from your laughter,wheneverhesawyou,andafterwardsfrom yourgesture,thatMissRucastlewasperfectlyhappy, andthatshenolongerdesiredhisattentions. Thedog isletlooseatnighttopreventhimfromendeavouring tocommunicatewithher. Somuchisfairlyclear. The mostseriouspointinthecaseisthedispositionofthe child.” “What on earth has that to do with it?” I ejacu- lated.</s>“MydearWatson,youasamedicalmanarecon- tinually 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 studyingtheirchildren. Thischild’sdispositionisab- normallycruel,merelyforcruelty’ssake,andwhether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect,orfromhismother,itbodesevilforthepoor girlwhoisintheirpower.” “Iamsurethatyouareright,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.” “Wemustbecircumspect,forwearedealingwith averycunningman. Wecandonothinguntilseven o’clock. Atthathourweshallbewithyou,anditwill notbelongbeforewesolvethemystery.” Wewereasgoodasourword,foritwasjustseven when we reached the Copper Beeches, having put upourtrapatawaysidepublic-house. Thegroupof 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 standingsmilingonthedoor-step.</s>“Haveyoumanagedit?”askedHolmes.</s>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.</s>Here are his keys, which are the duplicates of Mr.</s>Rucastle’s.” “Youhavedonewellindeed!”criedHolmeswith enthusiasm. “Now lead the way, and we shall soon seetheendofthisblackbusiness.” We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, fol- lowed on down a passage, and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss Hunter had de- scribed. Holmescutthecordandremovedthetrans- versebar. Thenhetriedthevariouskeysinthelock, but without success. No sound came from within, andatthesilenceHolmes’facecloudedover.</s>“Itrustthatwearenottoolate,”saidhe. “Ithink, Miss Hunter, that we had better go in without you.</s>Now, Watson, put your shoulder to it, and we shall seewhetherwecannotmakeourwayin.” It was an old rickety door and gave at once be- foreourunitedstrength. Togetherwerushedintothe room. It was empty. There was no furniture save a littlepalletbed,asmalltable,andabasketfuloflinen.</s>Theskylightabovewasopen,andtheprisonergone.</s>“Therehasbeensomevillainyhere,”saidHolmes; “this beauty has guessed Miss Hunter’s intentions andhascarriedhisvictimoff.” “Buthow?” “Through the skylight. We shall soon see how hemanagedit.”Heswunghimselfupontotheroof.</s>“Ah, yes,” he cried, “here’s the end of a long light ladderagainsttheeaves. Thatishowhedidit.” “Butitisimpossible,”saidMissHunter;“thelad- derwasnottherewhentheRucastleswentaway.” “Hehascomebackanddoneit. Itellyouthathe isacleveranddangerousman. Ishouldnotbevery muchsurprisedifthiswerehewhosestepIhearnow upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it would be as wellforyoutohaveyourpistolready.” The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at the door of the room, a very fat andburlyman,withaheavystickinhishand. Miss Hunterscreamedandshrunkagainstthewallatthe sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward andconfrontedhim.</s>“Youvillain!”saidhe,“where’syourdaughter?” The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at theopenskylight.</s>“It is for me to ask you that,” he shrieked, “you thieves! Spiesandthieves! Ihavecaughtyou,haveI?Youareinmypower. I’llserveyou!”Heturnedand clattereddownthestairsashardashecouldgo.</s>“He’sgoneforthedog!”criedMissHunter.</s>“Ihavemyrevolver,”saidI.</s>“Better close the front door,” cried Holmes, and weallrusheddownthestairstogether. Wehadhardly reachedthehallwhenweheardthebayingofahound, and then a scream of agony, with a horrible worry- ing sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An elderlymanwitharedfaceandshakinglimbscame staggeringoutatasidedoor.</s>“My God!” he cried. “Someone has loosed the dog. It’snotbeenfedfortwodays. Quick,quick,or it’llbetoolate!” Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle ofthehouse,withTollerhurryingbehindus. There wasthehugefamishedbrute,itsblackmuzzleburied inRucastle’sthroat,whilehewrithedandscreamed upontheground. Runningup,Iblewitsbrainsout, anditfelloverwithitskeenwhiteteethstillmeeting in the great creases of his neck. With much labour we separated them and carried him, living but hor- ribly mangled, into the house. We laid him upon the drawing-room sofa, and having dispatched the soberedTollertobearthenewstohiswife,Ididwhat I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled roundhimwhenthedooropened,andatall,gaunt womanenteredtheroom.</s>“Mrs.Toller!”criedMissHunter.</s>“Yes,miss. Mr.Rucastleletmeoutwhenhecame backbeforehewentuptoyou. Ah,miss,itisapity youdidn’tletmeknowwhatyouwereplanning,for Iwouldhavetoldyouthatyourpainswerewasted.” “Ha!” said Holmes, looking keenly at her. “It is clear that Mrs. Toller knows more about this matter thananyoneelse.” “Yes,sir,Ido,andIamreadyenoughtotellwhat Iknow.” “Then,pray,sitdown,andletushearitforthere areseveralpointsonwhichImustconfessthatIam stillinthedark.” “Iwillsoonmakeitcleartoyou,”saidshe;“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 yourfriend,andthatIwasMissAlice’sfriendtoo.</s>“Shewasneverhappyathome,MissAlicewasn’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 shewassoquietandpatient,shewas,thatshenever said a word about them but just left everything in Mr.Rucastle’shands. Heknewhewassafewithher; but when there was a chance of a husband coming forward, who would ask for all that the law would givehim,thenherfatherthoughtittimetoputastop onit. Hewantedhertosignapaper,sothatwhether she married or not, he could use her money. When shewouldn’tdoit,hekeptonworryingheruntilshe gotbrain-fever,andforsixweekswasatdeath’sdoor.</s>Thenshegotbetteratlast,allworntoashadow,and withher beautifulhair cutoff; but thatdidn’t make nochangeinheryoungman,andhestucktoheras trueasmancouldbe.” “Ah,” said Holmes, “I think that what you have beengoodenoughtotellusmakesthematterfairly clear, and that I can deduce all that remains. Mr.</s>Rucastle then, I presume, took to this system of im- prisonment?” “Yes,sir.” “AndbroughtMissHunterdownfromLondonin ordertogetridofthedisagreeablepersistenceofMr.</s>Fowler.” “Thatwasit,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 interestswerethesameashis.” “Mr.Fowlerwasaverykind-spoken,free-handed gentleman,”saidMrs.Tollerserenely.</s>“And in this way he managed that your good manshouldhavenowantofdrink,andthataladder should be ready at the moment when your master hadgoneout.” “Youhaveit,sir,justasithappened.” “I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller,” saidHolmes,“foryouhavecertainlyclearedupevery- thingwhichpuzzledus. Andherecomesthecountry surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle, so I think, Watson, that we had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, asitseemstomethatourlocusstandinowisrathera questionableone.” And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister housewiththecopperbeechesinfrontofthedoor. Mr.</s>Rucastlesurvived,butwasalwaysabrokenman,kept alivesolelythroughthecareofhisdevotedwife. They stilllivewiththeiroldservants,whoprobablyknow somuchofRucastle’spastlifethathefindsitdifficultto part from them. Mr. Fowler and Miss Rucastle weremarried,byspeciallicense,inSouthamptonthe day after their flight, and he is now the holder of a governmentappointmentintheislandofMauritius.</s>As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather tomydisappointment,manifestednofurtherinterest inherwhenonceshehadceasedtobethecentreof one of his problems, and she is now the head of a privateschoolatWalsall,whereIbelievethatshehas metwithconsiderablesuccess.amafraid,Watson,thatIshallhavetogo,” said Holmes, as we sat down together to ourbreakfastonemorning.</s>I “Go! Whereto?” “ToDartmoor;toKing’sPyland.” I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not already been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was the one topic of con- versationthroughthelengthandbreadthofEngland.</s>Forawholedaymycompanionhadrambledabout theroomwithhischinuponhischestandhisbrows knitted, charging and recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, and absolutely deaf to any ofmyquestionsorremarks. Fresheditionsofevery paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to be glanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silentashewas,Iknewperfectlywellwhatitwasover whichhewasbrooding. Therewasbutoneproblem before the public which could challenge his powers ofanalysis,andthatwasthesingulardisappearance of the favorite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragic murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced his intention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was only what I had both expected andhopedfor.</s>“IshouldbemosthappytogodownwithyouifI shouldnotbeintheway,”saidI.</s>“MydearWatson,youwouldconferagreatfavour upon me by coming. And I think that your time will not be misspent, for there are points about the casewhichpromisetomakeitanabsolutelyunique one. We have, I think, just time to catch our train at Paddington, and I will go further into the matter uponourjourney. Youwouldobligemebybringing withyouyourveryexcellentfield-glass.” And so it happened that an hour or so later I foundmyselfinthecornerofafirst-classcarriagefly- ingalongenrouteforExeter,whileSherlockHolmes, withhissharp,eagerfaceframedinhisear-flapped travelling-cap,dippedrapidlyintothebundleoffresh papers which he had procured at Paddington. We had left Reading far behind us before he thrust the last one of them under the seat, and offered me his cigar-case.</s>“Wearegoingwell,”saidhe,lookingoutthewin- dowandglancingathiswatch. “Ourrateatpresent isfifty-threeandahalfmilesanhour.” “Ihavenotobservedthequarter-mileposts,”said I.</s>“NorhaveI.Butthetelegraphpostsuponthisline aresixtyyardsapart,andthecalculationisasimple one. Ipresumethatyouhavelookedintothismatter ofthemurderofJohnStrakerandthedisappearance ofSilverBlaze?” “IhaveseenwhattheTelegraphandtheChronicle havetosay.” “It is one of those cases where the art of the rea- sonershouldbeusedratherforthesiftingofdetails thanfortheacquiringoffreshevidence. Thetragedy has been so uncommon, so complete and of such personalimportancetosomanypeople,thatweare sufferingfromaplethoraofsurmise,conjecture,and hypothesis. Thedifficultyistodetachtheframework offact—ofabsoluteundeniablefact—fromtheembel- lishments of theorists and reporters. Then, having establishedourselvesuponthissoundbasis,itisour dutytoseewhatinferencesmaybedrawnandwhat are the special points upon which the whole mys- teryturns. OnTuesdayeveningIreceivedtelegrams frombothColonelRoss,theownerofthehorse,and fromInspectorGregory,whoislookingafterthecase, invitingmycooperation.</s>“Tuesday evening!” I exclaimed. “And this is Thursday morning. Why didn’t you go down yes- terday?” “Because I made a blunder, my dear Wat- son—which is, I am afraid, a more common occur- rencethananyonewouldthinkwhoonlyknewme through your memoirs. The fact is that I could not believeitpossiblethatthemostremarkablehorsein England could long remain concealed, especially in sosparselyinhabitedaplaceasthenorthofDartmoor.</s>FromhourtohouryesterdayIexpectedtohearthat he had been found, and that his abductor was the murderer of John Straker. When, however, another morninghadcome,andIfoundthatbeyondthearrest ofyoungFitzroySimpsonnothinghadbeendone,I feltthatitwastimeformetotakeaction. Yetinsome waysIfeelthatyesterdayhasnotbeenwasted.” “Youhaveformedatheory,then?” “AtleastIhavegotagripoftheessentialfactsof thecase. Ishallenumeratethemtoyou,fornothing clearsupacasesomuchasstatingittoanotherper- son,andIcanhardlyexpectyourco-operationifIdo notshowyouthepositionfromwhichwestart.” Ilaybackagainstthecushions,puffingatmycigar, while Holmes, leaning forward, with his long, thin forefinger checking off the points upon the palm of his left hand, gave me a sketch of the events which hadledtoourjourney.</s>“SilverBlaze,”saidhe,“isfromtheSomomystock, andholdsasbrilliantarecordashisfamousancestor.</s>He is now in his fifth year, and has brought in turneachoftheprizesoftheturftoColonelRoss,hisfor- tunate owner. Up to the time of the catastrophe he wasthefirstfavoritefortheWessexCup,thebetting being three to one on him. He has always, however, beenaprimefavoritewiththeracingpublic,andhas never yet disappointed them, so that even at those oddsenormoussumsofmoneyhavebeenlaidupon him. It is obvious, therefore, that there were many peoplewhohadthestrongestinterestinpreventing Silver Blaze from being there at the fall of the flag nextTuesday.</s>“Thefactwas,ofcourse,appreciatedatKing’sPy- land,wheretheColonel’straining-stableissituated.</s>Everyprecautionwastakentoguardthefavorite. The trainer,JohnStraker,isaretiredjockeywhorodein Colonel Ross’s colors before he became too heavy for the weighing-chair. He has served the Colonel forfiveyearsasjockeyandforsevenastrainer,and hasalwaysshownhimselftobeazealousandhonest servant. Underhimwerethreelads;fortheestablish- ment was a small one, containing only four horses inall. Oneoftheseladssatupeachnightinthesta- ble, while the others slept in the loft. All three bore excellent characters. John Straker, who is a married man,livedinasmallvillaabouttwohundredyards fromthestables. Hehasnochildren,keepsonemaid- servant,andiscomfortablyoff. Thecountryroundis very lonely, but about half a mile to the north there isasmallclusterofvillaswhichhavebeenbuiltbya Tavistockcontractorfortheuseofinvalidsandothers whomaywishtoenjoythepureDartmoorair. Tavi- stock itself lies two miles to the west, while across the moor, also about two miles distant, is the larger trainingestablishmentofMapleton,whichbelongsto LordBackwater,andismanagedbySilasBrown. In everyotherdirectionthemoorisacompletewilder- ness,inhabitedonlybyafewroaminggypsies. Such wasthegeneralsituationlastMondaynightwhenthe catastropheoccurred.</s>“On that evening the horses had been exercised and watered as usual, and the stables were locked upatnineo’clock. Twooftheladswalkeduptothe trainer’shouse,wheretheyhadsupperinthekitchen, whilethethird,NedHunter,remainedonguard. Ata fewminutesafterninethemaid,EdithBaxter,carried downtothestableshissupper,whichconsistedofa dishofcurriedmutton. Shetooknoliquid,asthere wasawater-tapinthestables,anditwastherulethat theladondutyshoulddrinknothingelse. Themaid carriedalanternwithher,asitwasverydarkandthe pathranacrosstheopenmoor.</s>“Edith Baxter was within thirty yards of the sta- bles,whenamanappearedoutofthedarknessand calledtohertostop. Ashesteppedintothecircleof yellow light thrown by the lantern she saw that he was a person of gentlemanly bearing, dressed in a graysuitoftweeds,withaclothcap. Heworegaiters, andcarriedaheavystickwithaknobtoit. Shewas mostimpressed,however,bytheextremepallorofhis faceandbythenervousnessofhismanner. Hisage, shethought,wouldberatheroverthirtythanunder it.</s>“‘CanyoutellmewhereIam?’ heasked. ‘Ihad almostmadeupmymindtosleeponthemoor,when Isawthelightofyourlantern.’ “‘You are close to the King’s Pyland training- stables,’saidshe.</s>“‘Oh,indeed! Whatastrokeofluck!’ hecried. ‘I understandthatastable-boysleepstherealoneevery night. Perhapsthatishissupperwhichyouarecarry- ingtohim. NowIamsurethatyouwouldnotbetoo proud to earn the priceof a new dress, would you?’ Hetookapieceofwhitepaperfoldedupoutofhis waistcoatpocket. ‘Seethattheboyhasthisto-night, andyoushallhavetheprettiestfrockthatmoneycan buy.’ “Shewasfrightenedbytheearnestnessofhisman- ner,andranpasthimtothewindowthroughwhich she was accustomed to hand the meals. It was al- ready opened, and Hunter was seated at the small table inside. She had begun to tell him of what had happened,whenthestrangercameupagain.</s>“‘Good-evening,’ said he, looking through the window. ‘I wanted to have a word with you.’ The girlhasswornthatashespokeshenoticedthecorner ofthelittlepaperpacketprotrudingfromhisclosed hand.</s>“‘Whatbusinesshaveyouhere?’ askedthelad.</s>“‘It’sbusinessthatmayputsomethingintoyour pocket,’saidtheother. ‘You’vetwohorsesinforthe Wessex Cup—Silver Blaze and Bayard. Letme have the straight tip and you won’t be a loser. Is it a fact thatattheweightsBayardcouldgivetheotherahun- dredyardsinfivefurlongs,andthatthestablehave puttheirmoneyonhim?’ “‘So, you’re one of those damned touts!’ cried thelad. ‘I’llshowyouhowweservetheminKing’s Pyland.’ Hesprangupandrushedacrossthestableto unloosethedog. Thegirlfledawaytothehouse,but assheranshelookedbackandsawthatthestranger was leaning through the window. A minute later, however,whenHunterrushedoutwiththehoundhewasgone,andthoughheranallroundthebuildings hefailedtofindanytraceofhim.” “Onemoment,”Iasked. “Didthestable-boy,when heranoutwiththedog,leavethedoorunlockedbe- hindhim?” “Excellent, Watson, excellent!” murmured my companion. “Theimportanceofthepointstruckme soforciblythatIsentaspecialwiretoDartmooryes- terdaytoclearthematterup. Theboylockedthedoor before he left it. The window, I may add, was not largeenoughforamantogetthrough.</s>“Hunter waited until his fellow-grooms had re- turned, when he sent a message to the trainer and told him what had occurred. Straker was excited at hearing the account, although he does not seem to have quite realized its true significance. It left him, however,vaguelyuneasy,andMrs.Straker,wakingat one in the morning, found that he was dressing. In replytoherinquiries,hesaidthathecouldnotsleep onaccountofhisanxietyaboutthehorses,andthat he intended to walk down to the stables to see that allwaswell. Shebeggedhimtoremainathome, as shecouldheartherainpatteringagainstthewindow, but in spite of her entreaties he pulled on his large mackintoshandleftthehouse.</s>“Mrs. Straker awoke at seven in the morning, to find that her husband had not yet returned. She dressed herself hastily, called the maid, and set off forthestables. Thedoorwasopen; inside,huddled togetheruponachair,Hunterwassunkinastateof absolute stupor, the favorite’s stall was empty, and therewerenosignsofhistrainer.</s>“The two lads who slept in the chaff-cutting loft abovetheharness-roomwerequicklyaroused. They hadheardnothingduringthenight,fortheyareboth soundsleepers. Hunterwasobviouslyunderthein- fluenceofsomepowerfuldrug,andasnosensecould begotoutofhim,hewaslefttosleepitoffwhilethe twoladsandthetwowomenranoutinsearchofthe absentees. They still had hopes that the trainer had for some reason taken out the horse for early exer- cise,butonascendingtheknollnearthehouse,from which all the neighboring moors were visible, they not only could see no signs of the missing favorite, but they perceived something which warned them thattheywereinthepresenceofatragedy.</s>“AboutaquarterofamilefromthestablesJohn Straker’s overcoat was flapping from a furze-bush.</s>Immediately beyond there was a bowl-shaped de- pression in the moor, and at the bottom of this was foundthedeadbodyoftheunfortunatetrainer. His headhadbeenshatteredbyasavageblowfromsome heavy weapon, and he was wounded on the thigh, wheretherewasalong,cleancut,inflictedevidently bysomeverysharpinstrument. Itwasclear,however, thatStrakerhaddefendedhimselfvigorouslyagainst his assailants, for in his right hand he held a small knife,whichwasclottedwithblooduptothehandle, whileinhisleftheclaspedaredandblacksilkcravat, which was recognized by the maid as having been wornontheprecedingeveningbythestrangerwho had visited the stables. Hunter, on recovering from hisstupor,wasalsoquitepositiveastotheownership of the cravat. He was equally certain that the same strangerhad,whilestandingatthewindow,drugged his curried mutton, and so deprived the stables of theirwatchman. Astothemissinghorse,therewere abundantproofsinthemudwhichlayatthebottom ofthefatalhollowthathehadbeenthereatthetime ofthestruggle. Butfromthatmorninghehasdisap- peared,andalthoughalargerewardhasbeenoffered, and all the gypsies of Dartmoor are on the alert, no newshascomeofhim. Finally,ananalysishasshown that the remains of his supper left by the stable-lad containanappreciablequantityofpowderedopium, while the people at the house partook of the same dishonthesamenightwithoutanyilleffect.</s>“Thosearethemainfactsofthecase,strippedof all surmise, and stated as baldly as possible. I shall now recapitulate what the police have done in the matter.</s>“Inspector Gregory, to whom the case has been committed, is an extremely competent officer. Were hebutgiftedwithimaginationhemightrisetogreat heightsinhisprofession. Onhisarrivalhepromptly found and arrested the man upon whom suspicion naturallyrested. Therewaslittledifficultyinfinding him,forheinhabitedoneofthosevillaswhichIhave mentioned. Hisname,itappears,wasFitzroySimp- son. Hewasamanofexcellentbirthandeducation, who had squandered a fortune upon the turf, and who lived now by doing a little quiet and genteel book-making in the sporting clubs of London. An examination of his betting-book shows that bets to theamountoffivethousandpoundshadbeenregis- teredbyhimagainstthefavorite. Onbeingarrested hevolunteeredthestatementthathehadcomedown toDartmoorinthehopeofgettingsomeinformation abouttheKing’sPylandhorses,andalsoaboutDes- borough,thesecondfavorite,whichwasinchargeof Silas Brown at the Mapleton stables. He did not at- tempttodenythathehadactedasdescribeduponthe evening before, but declared that he had no sinisterdesigns,andhadsimplywishedtoobtainfirst-hand information. When confronted with his cravat, he turnedverypale,andwasutterlyunabletoaccount foritspresenceinthehandofthemurderedman. His wetclothingshowedthathehadbeenoutinthestorm ofthenightbefore,andhisstick,whichwasaPenang- lawyerweightedwithlead,wasjustsuchaweaponas might,byrepeatedblows,haveinflictedtheterrible injuriestowhichthetrainerhadsuccumbed. Onthe other hand, there was no wound upon his person, whilethestateofStraker’sknifewouldshowthatone atleastofhisassailantsmustbearhismarkuponhim.</s>Thereyouhaveitallinanutshell,Watson,andifyou cangivemeanylightIshallbeinfinitelyobligedto you.” I had listened with the greatest interest to the statement which Holmes, with characteristic clear- ness, had laid before me. Though most of the facts werefamiliartome,Ihadnotsufficientlyappreciated theirrelativeimportance,northeirconnectiontoeach other.</s>“Isinnotpossible,”Isuggested,“thattheincised wound upon Straker may have been caused by his own knife in the convulsive struggles which follow anybraininjury?” “It is more than possible; it is probable,” said Holmes. “Inthatcaseoneofthemainpointsinfavor oftheaccuseddisappears.” “Andyet,”saidI,“evennowIfailtounderstand whatthetheoryofthepolicecanbe.” “I am afraid that whatever theory we state has verygraveobjectionstoit,”returnedmycompanion.</s>“Thepoliceimagine,Itakeit,thatthisFitzroySimp- son,havingdruggedthelad,andhavinginsomeway obtainedaduplicatekey,openedthestabledoorand tookoutthehorse,withtheintention,apparently,of kidnappinghimaltogether. Hisbridleismissing,so that Simpson must have put this on. Then, having left the door open behind him, he was leading the horse away over the moor, when he was either met orovertakenbythetrainer. Arownaturallyensued.</s>Simpsonbeatoutthetrainer’sbrainswithhisheavy stickwithoutreceivinganyinjuryfromthesmallknife whichStrakerusedinself-defence,andthenthethief either led the horse on to some secret hiding-place, or else it may have bolted during the struggle, and be now wandering out on the moors. That is the caseasitappearstothepolice,andimprobableasit is, all other explanations are more improbable still.</s>However,IshallveryquicklytestthematterwhenI amonceuponthespot,anduntilthenIcannotreally see how we can get much further than our present position.” It was evening before we reached the little town of Tavistock, which lies, like the boss of a shield, in themiddleofthehugecircleofDartmoor. Twogen- tlemenwereawaitingusinthestation—theoneatall, fairmanwithlion-likehairandbeardandcuriously penetratinglightblueeyes;theotherasmall,alertper- son,veryneatanddapper,inafrock-coatandgaiters, with trim little side-whiskers and an eye-glass. The latterwasColonelRoss,thewell-knownsportsman; theother,InspectorGregory,amanwhowasrapidly makinghisnameintheEnglishdetectiveservice.</s>“I am delighted that you have come down, Mr.</s>Holmes,”saidtheColonel. “TheInspectorherehas doneallthatcouldpossiblybesuggested,butIwish toleavenostoneunturnedintryingtoavengepoor Strakerandinrecoveringmyhorse.” “Havetherebeenanyfreshdevelopments?”asked Holmes.</s>“I am sorry to say that we have made very little progress,”saidtheInspector. “Wehaveanopencar- riageoutside,andasyouwouldnodoubtliketosee theplacebeforethelightfails,wemighttalkitover aswedrive.” A minute later we were all seated in a comfort- able landau, and were rattling through the quaint old Devonshire city. Inspector Gregory was full of hiscase,andpouredoutastreamofremarks,while Holmes threw in an occasional question or interjec- tion. ColonelRossleanedbackwithhisarmsfolded andhishattiltedoverhiseyes,whileIlistenedwith interesttothedialogueofthetwodetectives. Gregory wasformulatinghistheory,whichwasalmostexactly whatHolmeshadforetoldinthetrain.</s>“ThenetisdrawnprettycloseroundFitzroySimp- son,” he remarked, “and I believe myself that he is our man. At the same time I recognize that the ev- idence is purely circumstantial, and that some new developmentmayupsetit.” “HowaboutStraker’sknife?” “We have quite come to the conclusion that he woundedhimselfinhisfall.” “My friend Dr. Watson made that suggestion to measwecamedown. Ifso,itwouldtellagainstthis manSimpson.” “Undoubtedly. Hehasneitheraknifenoranysign of a wound. The evidence against him is certainly verystrong. Hehadagreatinterestinthedisappear- anceofthefavorite. Heliesundersuspicionofhaving poisonedthestable-boy,hewasundoubtedlyoutin thestorm,hewasarmedwithaheavystick,andhiscravat was found in the dead man’s hand. I really thinkwehaveenoughtogobeforeajury.” Holmesshookhishead. “Aclevercounselwould tear it all to rags,” said he. “Why should he take the horse out of the stable? If he wished to injure it why could he not do it there? Has a duplicate key beenfoundinhispossession? Whatchemistsoldhim the powdered opium? Above all, where could he, a strangertothedistrict,hideahorse,andsuchahorse asthis? Whatishisownexplanationastothepaper whichhewishedthemaidtogivetothestable-boy?” “He says that it was a ten-pound note. One was found in his purse. But your other difficulties are notsoformidableastheyseem. Heisnotastranger to the district. He has twice lodged at Tavistock in thesummer. Theopiumwasprobablybroughtfrom London. Thekey,havingserveditspurpose,would be hurled away. The horse may be at the bottom of oneofthepitsoroldminesuponthemoor.” “Whatdoeshesayaboutthecravat?” “Heacknowledgesthatitishis,anddeclaresthat hehadlostit. Butanewelementhasbeenintroduced into the case which may account for his leading the horsefromthestable.” Holmesprickeduphisears.</s>“Wehavefoundtraceswhichshowthatapartyof gypsiesencampedonMondaynightwithinamileof the spot where the murder took place. On Tuesday theyweregone. Now,presumingthattherewassome understanding between Simpson and these gypsies, might he not have been leading the horse to them whenhewasovertaken,andmaytheynothavehim now?” “Itiscertainlypossible.” “The moor is being scoured for these gypsies. I have also examined every stable and out-house in Tavistock,andforaradiusoftenmiles.” “Thereisanothertraining-stablequiteclose,Iun- derstand?” “Yes,andthatisafactorwhichwemustcertainly notneglect. AsDesborough,theirhorse,wassecond inthebetting,theyhadaninterestinthedisappear- anceofthefavorite. SilasBrown,thetrainer,isknown tohavehadlargebetsupontheevent,andhewasno friendtopoorStraker. Wehave,however,examined thestables,andthereisnothingtoconnecthimwith theaffair.” “AndnothingtoconnectthismanSimpsonwith theinterestsoftheMapletonstables?” “Nothingatall.” Holmesleanedbackinthecarriage,andthecon- versation ceased. A few minutes later our driver pulledupataneatlittlered-brickvillawithoverhang- ingeaveswhichstoodbytheroad. Somedistanceoff, acrossapaddock,layalonggray-tiledout-building.</s>In every other direction the low curves of the moor, bronze-coloredfromthefadingferns,stretchedaway tothesky-line,brokenonlybythesteeplesofTavis- tock,andbyaclusterofhousesawaytothewestward which marked the Mapleton stables. We all sprang outwiththeexceptionofHolmes,whocontinuedto leanbackwithhiseyesfixedupontheskyinfrontof him, entirely absorbed in his own thoughts. It was onlywhenItouchedhisarmthatherousedhimself withaviolentstartandsteppedoutofthecarriage.</s>“Excuse me,” said he, turning to Colonel Ross, who had looked at him in some surprise. “I was day-dreaming.” There was a gleam in his eyes and a suppressed excitement in his manner which con- vinced me, used as I was to his ways, that his hand wasuponaclue,thoughIcouldnotimaginewhere hehadfoundit.</s>“Perhapsyouwouldpreferatoncetogoontothe sceneofthecrime,Mr.Holmes?”saidGregory.</s>“I think that I should prefer to stay here a little and go into one or two questions of detail. Straker wasbroughtbackhere,Ipresume?” “Yes;heliesupstairs. Theinquestisto-morrow.” “Hehasbeeninyourservicesomeyears,Colonel Ross?” “Ihavealwaysfoundhimanexcellentservant.” “I presume that you made an inventory of what hehadinthispocketsatthetimeofhisdeath,Inspec- tor?” “Ihavethethingsthemselvesinthesitting-room, ifyouwouldcaretoseethem.” “Ishouldbeveryglad.”Weallfiledintothefront roomandsatroundthecentraltablewhiletheInspec- torunlockedasquaretinboxandlaidasmallheapof thingsbeforeus. Therewasaboxofvestas,twoinches of tallow candle, an A D P brier-root pipe, a pouch ofseal-skinwithhalfanounceoflong-cutCavendish, a silver watch with a gold chain, five sovereigns in gold,analuminumpencil-case,afewpapers,andan ivory-handled knife with a very delicate, inflexible blademarkedWeiss&Co.,London.</s>“This is a very singular knife,” said Holmes, lift- ingitupandexaminingitminutely. “Ipresume,asI seeblood-stainsuponit,thatitistheonewhichwas foundinthedeadman’sgrasp. Watson,thisknifeis surelyinyourline?”“Itiswhatwecallacataractknife,”saidI.</s>“I thought so. A very delicate blade devised for verydelicatework. Astrangethingforamantocarry with him upon a rough expedition, especially as it wouldnotshutinhispocket.” “Thetipwasguardedbyadiskofcorkwhichwe foundbesidehisbody,”saidtheInspector. “Hiswife tellsusthattheknifehadlainuponthedressing-table, and that he had picked it up as he left the room. It wasapoorweapon,butperhapsthebestthathecould layhishandsonatthemoment.” “Verypossible. Howaboutthesepapers?” “Threeofthemarereceiptedhay-dealers’accounts.</s>One of them is a letter of instructions from Colonel Ross. This other is a milliner’s account for thirty- sevenpoundsfifteenmadeoutbyMadameLesurier, of Bond Street, to William Derbyshire. Mrs. Straker tellsusthatDerbyshirewasafriendofherhusband’s andthatoccasionallyhisletterswereaddressedhere.” “Madam Derbyshire had somewhat expensive tastes,”remarkedHolmes,glancingdowntheaccount.</s>“Twenty-twoguineasisratherheavyforasinglecos- tume. Howeverthereappearstobenothingmoreto learn,andwemaynowgodowntothesceneofthe crime.” As we emerged from the sitting-room a woman, whohadbeenwaitinginthepassage,tookastepfor- wardandlaidherhandupontheInspector’ssleeve.</s>Her face was haggard and thin and eager, stamped withtheprintofarecenthorror.</s>“Haveyougotthem? Haveyoufoundthem?”she panted.</s>“No,Mrs.Straker. ButMr.Holmesherehascome from London to help us, and we shall do all that is possible.” “SurelyImetyouinPlymouthatagarden-party somelittletimeago,Mrs.Straker?”saidHolmes.</s>“No,sir;youaremistaken.” “Dearme! Why,Icouldhavesworntoit. Youwore a costume of dove-colored silk with ostrich-feather trimming.” “Ineverhadsuchadress,sir,”answeredthelady.</s>“Ah,thatquitesettlesit,”saidHolmes. Andwith anapologyhefollowedtheInspectoroutside. Ashort walkacrossthemoortookustothehollowinwhich thebodyhadbeenfound. Atthebrinkofitwasthe furze-bushuponwhichthecoathadbeenhung.</s>“There was no wind that night, I understand,” saidHolmes.</s>“None;butveryheavyrain.” “Inthatcasetheovercoatwasnotblownagainst thefurze-bush,butplacedthere.” “Yes,itwaslaidacrossthebush.” “You fill me with interest, I perceive that the groundhasbeentrampledupagooddeal. Nodoubt manyfeethavebeenheresinceMondaynight.” “Apieceofmattinghasbeenlaidhereattheside, andwehaveallstooduponthat.” “Excellent.” “InthisbagIhaveoneofthebootswhichStraker wore,oneofFitzroySimpson’sshoes,andacasthorse- shoeofSilverBlaze.” “My dear Inspector, you surpass yourself!” Holmestookthebag,and,descendingintothehollow, he pushed the matting into a more central position.</s>Thenstretchinghimselfuponhisfaceandleaninghis chinuponhishands,hemadeacarefulstudyofthe trampledmudinfrontofhim. “Hullo!”saidhe,sud- denly. “What’sthis?”Itwasawaxvestahalfburned, whichwassocoatedwithmudthatitlookedatfirst likealittlechipofwood.</s>“I cannot think how I came to overlook it,” said theInspector,withanexpressionofannoyance.</s>“Itwasinvisible,buriedinthemud. Ionlysawit becauseIwaslookingforit.” “What! Youexpectedtofindit?” “Ithoughtitnotunlikely.” He took the boots from the bag, and compared the impressions of each of them with marks upon the ground. Then he clambered up to the rim of thehollow,andcrawledaboutamongthefernsand bushes.</s>“I am afraid that there are no more tracks,” said the Inspector. “I have examined the ground very carefullyforahundredyardsineachdirection.” “Indeed!”saidHolmes,rising. “Ishouldnothave the impertinence to do it again after what you say.</s>But I should like to take a little walk over the moor before it grows dark, that I may know my ground to-morrow,andIthinkthatIshallputthishorseshoe intomypocketforluck.” ColonelRoss, whohadshownsomesignsofim- patience at my companion’s quiet and systematic method of work, glanced at his watch. “I wish you wouldcomebackwithme,Inspector,”saidhe. “There areseveralpointsonwhichIshouldlikeyouradvice, andespeciallyastowhetherwedonotoweittothe public to remove our horse’s name from the entries fortheCup.”“Certainly not,” cried Holmes, with decision. “I shouldletthenamestand.” TheColonelbowed. “Iamverygladtohavehad youropinion,sir,”saidhe. “Youwillfindusatpoor Straker’s house when you have finished your walk, andwecandrivetogetherintoTavistock.” HeturnedbackwiththeInspector,whileHolmes and I walked slowly across the moor. The sun was beginningtosinkbehindthestablesofMapleton,and thelong,slopingplaininfrontofuswastingedwith gold, deepening into rich, ruddy browns where the faded ferns and brambles caught the evening light.</s>Butthegloriesofthelandscapewereallwastedupon mycompanion,whowassunkinthedeepestthought.</s>“It’s this way, Watson,” said he at last. “We may leavethequestionofwhokilledJohnStrakerforthe instant,andconfineourselvestofindingoutwhathas becomeofthehorse. Now,supposingthathebroke awayduringorafterthetragedy,wherecouldhehave gone to? The horse is a very gregarious creature. If lefttohimselfhisinstinctswouldhavebeeneitherto returntoKing’sPylandorgoovertoMapleton. Why shouldherunwilduponthemoor? Hewouldsurely havebeenseenbynow. Andwhyshouldgypsieskid- nap him? These people always clear out when they hear of trouble, for they do not wish to be pestered by the police. They could not hope to sell such a horse. Theywouldrunagreatriskandgainnothing bytakinghim. Surelythatisclear.” “Whereishe,then?” “I have already said that he must have gone to King’s Pyland or to Mapleton. He is not at King’s Pyland. ThereforeheisatMapleton. Letustakethat asaworkinghypothesisandseewhatitleadsusto.</s>This part of the moor, as the Inspector remarked, is veryhardand dry. But itfalls away towards Maple- ton, and you can see from here that there is a long hollowoveryonder,whichmusthavebeenverywet onMondaynight. Ifoursuppositioniscorrect,then the horse must have crossed that, and there is the pointwhereweshouldlookforhistracks.” Wehadbeenwalkingbrisklyduringthisconversa- tion,andafewmoreminutesbroughtustothehollow in question. At Holmes’ request I walked down the bank to the right, and he to the left, but I had not takenfiftypacesbeforeIheardhimgiveashout,and sawhimwavinghishandtome. Thetrackofahorse wasplainlyoutlinedinthesoftearthinfrontofhim, andthe shoewhich hetookfromhispocket exactly fittedtheimpression.</s>“Seethevalueofimagination,”saidHolmes. “It istheonequalitywhichGregorylacks. Weimagined whatmighthavehappened,acteduponthesupposi- tion,andfindourselvesjustified. Letusproceed.” Wecrossedthemarshybottomandpassedovera quarterofamileofdry,hardturf. Againtheground sloped, and again we came on the tracks. Then we lost them for half a mile, but only to pick them up once more quite close to Mapleton. It was Holmes whosawthemfirst,andhestoodpointingwithalook oftriumphuponhisface. Aman’strackwasvisible besidethehorse’s.</s>“Thehorsewasalonebefore,”Icried.</s>“Quite so. It was alone before. Hullo, what is this?” The double track turned sharp off and took the directionofKing’sPyland. Holmeswhistled,andwe bothfollowedalongafterit. Hiseyeswereonthetrail, butIhappenedtolookalittletooneside,andsawto mysurprisethesametrackscomingbackagaininthe oppositedirection.</s>“One for you, Watson,” said Holmes, when I pointeditout. “Youhavesavedusalongwalk,which wouldhavebroughtusbackonourowntraces. Let usfollowthereturntrack.” We had not to go far. It ended at the paving of asphalt which led up to the gates of the Mapleton stables. As we approached, a groom ran out from them.</s>“Wedon’twantanyloiterersabouthere,”saidhe.</s>“I only wished to ask a question,” said Holmes, with his finger and thumb in his waistcoat pocket.</s>“Should I be too early to see your master, Mr. Silas Brown, if I were to call at five o’clock to-morrow morning?” “Blessyou,sir,ifanyoneisabouthewillbe,for he is always the first stirring. But here he is, sir, to answeryourquestionsforhimself. No,sir,no;itisas much as my place is worth to let him see me touch yourmoney. Afterwards,ifyoulike.” As Sherlock Holmes replaced the half-crown whichhehaddrawnfromhispocket,afierce-looking elderlymanstrodeoutfromthegatewithahunting- cropswinginginhishand.</s>“What’sthis,Dawson!”hecried. “Nogossiping! Goaboutyourbusiness! Andyou,whatthedevildo youwanthere?” “Ten minutes’ talk with you, my good sir,” said Holmesinthesweetestofvoices.“I’venotimetotalktoeverygadabout. Wewant no stranger here. Be off, or you may find a dog at yourheels.” Holmesleanedforwardandwhisperedsomething inthetrainer’sear. Hestartedviolentlyandflushed tothetemples.</s>“It’salie!”heshouted,“aninfernallie!” “Verygood. Shallweargueaboutithereinpublic ortalkitoverinyourparlor?” “Oh,comeinifyouwishto.” Holmessmiled. “Ishallnotkeepyoumorethana few minutes, Watson,” said he. “Now, Mr. Brown, I amquiteatyourdisposal.” Itwastwentyminutes,andtheredshadallfaded intograysbeforeHolmesandthetrainerreappeared.</s>NeverhaveIseensuchachangeashadbeenbrought aboutinSilasBrowninthatshorttime. Hisfacewas ashypale,beadsofperspirationshoneuponhisbrow, andhishandsshookuntilthehunting-cropwagged likeabranchinthewind. Hisbullying,overbearing mannerwasallgonetoo,andhecringedalongatmy companion’ssidelikeadogwithitsmaster.</s>“Your instructions will be done. It shall all be done,”saidhe.</s>“There must be no mistake,” said Holmes, look- ing round at him. The other winced as he read the menaceinhiseyes.</s>“Ohno,thereshallbenomistake. Itshallbethere.</s>ShouldIchangeitfirstornot?” Holmesthoughtalittleandthenburstoutlaugh- ing. “No,don’t,”saidhe;“Ishallwritetoyouabout it. Notricks,now,or—” “Oh,youcantrustme,youcantrustme!” “Yes, I think I can. Well, you shall hear from me to-morrow.” He turned upon his heel, disregarding thetremblinghandwhichtheotherheldouttohim, andwesetoffforKing’sPyland.</s>“Amoreperfectcompoundofthebully,coward, and sneak than Master Silas Brown I have seldom met with,” remarked Holmes as we trudged along together.</s>“Hehasthehorse,then?” “He tried to bluster out of it, but I described to him so exactly what his actions had been upon that morningthatheisconvincedthatIwaswatchinghim.</s>Ofcourseyouobservedthepeculiarlysquaretoesin theimpressions,andthathisownbootsexactlycor- respondedtothem. Again,ofcoursenosubordinate wouldhavedaredtodosuchathing. Idescribedto him how, when according to his custom he was the first down, he perceived a strange horse wandering over the moor. How he went out to it, and his as- tonishmentatrecognizing,fromthewhiteforehead which has given the favorite its name, that chance hadputinhispowertheonlyhorsewhichcouldbeat the one upon which he had put his money. Then I describedhowhisfirstimpulsehadbeentoleadhim backtoKing’sPyland,andhowthedevilhadshown him how he could hide the horse until the race was over,andhowhehadleditbackandconcealeditat Mapleton. WhenItoldhimeverydetailhegaveitup andthoughtonlyofsavinghisownskin.” “Buthisstableshadbeensearched?” “Oh, and old horse-faker like him has many a dodge.” “But are you not afraid to leave the horse in his powernow,sincehehaseveryinterestininjuringit?” “Mydearfellow, hewillguarditastheappleof his eye. He knows that his onlyhope of mercy is to produceitsafe.” “ColonelRossdidnotimpressmeasamanwho wouldbelikelytoshowmuchmercyinanycase.” “The matter does not rest with Colonel Ross. I followmyownmethods,andtellasmuchoraslittle asIchoose. Thatistheadvantageofbeingunofficial.</s>I don’t know whether you observed it, Watson, but theColonel’smannerhasbeenjustatriflecavalierto me. Iaminclinednowtohavealittleamusementat hisexpense. Saynothingtohimaboutthehorse.” “Certainlynotwithoutyourpermission.” “Andofcoursethisisallquiteaminorpointcom- paredtothequestionofwhokilledJohnStraker.” “Andyouwilldevoteyourselftothat?” “Onthecontrary,webothgobacktoLondonby thenighttrain.” I was thunderstruck by my friend’s words. We had only been a few hours in Devonshire, and that heshouldgiveupaninvestigationwhichhehadbe- gunsobrilliantlywasquiteincomprehensibletome.</s>Not a word more could I draw from him until we werebackatthetrainer’shouse. TheColonelandthe Inspectorwereawaitingusintheparlor.</s>“My friend and I return to town by the night- express,” said Holmes. “We have had a charming littlebreathofyourbeautifulDartmoorair.” TheInspectoropenedhiseyes,andtheColonel’s lipcurledinasneer.</s>“Soyoudespairofarrestingthemurdererofpoor Straker,”saidhe.Holmes shrugged his shoulders. “There are cer- tainlygravedifficultiesintheway,”saidhe. “Ihave everyhope,however,thatyourhorsewillstartupon Tuesday,andIbegthatyouwillhaveyourjockeyin readiness. MightIaskforaphotographofMr.John Straker?” The Inspector took one from an envelope and handedittohim.</s>“MydearGregory,youanticipateallmywants. If I might ask you to wait here for an instant, I have a questionwhichIshouldliketoputtothemaid.” “ImustsaythatIamratherdisappointedinour Londonconsultant,”saidColonelRoss,bluntly,asmy friend left the room. “I do not see that we are any furtherthanwhenhecame.” “Atleastyouhavehisassurancethatyourhorse willrun,”saidI.</s>“Yes,Ihavehisassurance,”saidtheColonel,with ashrugofhisshoulders. “Ishouldprefertohavethe horse.” Iwasabouttomakesomereplyindefenceofmy friendwhenheenteredtheroomagain.</s>“Now,gentlemen,”saidhe,“Iamquitereadyfor Tavistock.” Aswesteppedintothecarriageoneofthestable- lads held the door open for us. A sudden idea seemed to occur to Holmes, for he leaned forward andtouchedtheladuponthesleeve.</s>“You have a few sheep in the paddock,” he said.</s>“Whoattendstothem?” “Ido,sir.” “Have you noticed anything amiss with them of late?” “Well,sir,notofmuchaccount;butthreeofthem havegonelame,sir.” I could see that Holmes was extremely pleased, forhechuckledandrubbedhishandstogether.</s>“A long shot, Watson; a very long shot,” said he, pinching my arm. “Gregory, let me recommend to your attention this singular epidemic among the sheep. Driveon,coachman!” Colonel Ross still wore an expression which showed the poor opinion which he had formed of mycompanion’sability,butIsawbytheInspector’s facethathisattentionhadbeenkeenlyaroused.</s>“Youconsiderthattobeimportant?”heasked.</s>“Exceedinglyso.” “Is there any point to which you would wish to drawmyattention?” “To the curious incident of the dog in the night- time.” “Thedogdidnothinginthenight-time.” “That was the curious incident,” remarked Sher- lockHolmes.</s>Four days later Holmes and I were again in the train, bound for Winchester to see the race for the Wessex Cup. Colonel Ross met us by appointment outside the station, and we drove in his drag to the coursebeyondthetown. Hisfacewasgrave,andhis mannerwascoldintheextreme.</s>“Ihaveseennothingofmyhorse,”saidhe.</s>“I suppose that you would know him when you sawhim?”askedHolmes.</s>TheColonelwasveryangry. “Ihavebeenonthe turf for twenty years, and never was asked such a question as that before,” said he. “A child would know Silver Blaze, with his white forehead and his mottledoff-foreleg.” “Howisthebetting?” “Well,thatisthecuriouspartofit. Youcouldhave gotfifteentooneyesterday,butthepricehasbecome shorterandshorter,untilyoucanhardlygetthreeto onenow.” “Hum!” said Holmes. “Somebody knows some- thing,thatisclear.” As the drag drew up in the enclosure near the grandstandIglancedatthecardtoseetheentries.</s>1. Mr.HeathNewton’sTheNegro. Redcap. Cin- namonjacket.</s>2. ColonelWardlaw’sPugilist. Pinkcap. Blueand blackjacket.</s>3. LordBackwater’sDesborough. Yellowcapand sleeves.</s>4. Colonel Ross’s Silver Blaze. Black cap. Red jacket.</s>5. Duke of Balmoral’s Iris. Yellow and black stripes.</s>6. Lord Singleford’s Rasper. Purple cap. Black sleeves.“We scratched our other one, and put all hopes onyourword,”saidtheColonel. “Why,whatisthat? SilverBlazefavorite?” “FivetofouragainstSilverBlaze!”roaredthering.</s>“Five to four against Silver Blaze! Five to fifteen againstDesborough! Fivetofouronthefield!” “Therearethenumbersup,”Icried. “Theyareall sixthere.” “Allsixthere? Thenmyhorseisrunning,”cried the Colonel in great agitation. “But I don’t see him.</s>Mycolorshavenotpassed.” “Onlyfivehavepassed. Thismustbehe.” AsIspokeapowerfulbayhorsesweptoutfrom the weighting enclosure and cantered past us, bear- ingonitsbackthewell-knownblackandredofthe Colonel.</s>“That’s not my horse,” cried the owner. “That beasthasnotawhitehairuponitsbody. Whatisthis thatyouhavedone,Mr.Holmes?” “Well, well, let us see how he gets on,” said my friend, imperturbably. For a few minutes he gazed throughmyfield-glass. “Capital! Anexcellentstart!” hecriedsuddenly. “Theretheyare,comingroundthe curve!” Fromourdragwehadasuperbviewastheycame upthestraight. Thesixhorsesweresoclosetogether thatacarpetcouldhavecoveredthem,buthalfway up the yellow of the Mapleton stable showed to the front. Beforetheyreachedus,however,Desborough’s boltwasshot,andtheColonel’shorse,comingaway witharush,passedthepostagoodsixlengthsbefore its rival, the Duke of Balmoral’s Iris making a bad third.</s>“It’smyrace,anyhow,”gaspedtheColonel,pass- ing his hand over his eyes. “I confess that I can make neither head nor tail of it. Don’t you think thatyouhavekeptupyourmysterylongenough,Mr.</s>Holmes?” “Certainly, Colonel, you shall know everything.</s>Let us all go round and have a look at the horse to- gether. Here he is,” he continued, as we made our wayintotheweighingenclosure,whereonlyowners andtheirfriendsfindadmittance. “Youhaveonlyto washhisfaceandhisleginspiritsofwine,andyou willfindthatheisthesameoldSilverBlazeasever.” “Youtakemybreathaway!” “Ifoundhiminthehandsofafaker,andtookthe libertyofrunninghimjustashewassentover.” “Mydearsir,youhavedonewonders. Thehorse looksveryfitandwell. Itneverwentbetterinitslife.</s>Ioweyouathousandapologiesforhavingdoubted your ability. You have done me a great service by recoveringmyhorse. Youwoulddomeagreaterstill ifyoucouldlayyourhandsonthemurdererofJohn Straker.” “Ihavedoneso,”saidHolmesquietly.</s>The Colonel and I stared at him in amazement.</s>“Youhavegothim! Whereishe,then?” “Heishere.” “Here! Where?” “Inmycompanyatthepresentmoment.” The Colonel flushed angrily. “I quite recognize thatIamunderobligationstoyou,Mr.Holmes,”said he, “but I must regard what you have just said as eitheraverybadjokeoraninsult.” Sherlock Holmes laughed. “I assure you that I have not associated you with the crime, Colonel,” saidhe. “Therealmurdererisstandingimmediately behindyou.”Hesteppedpastandlaidhishandupon theglossyneckofthethoroughbred.</s>“Thehorse!”criedboththeColonelandmyself.</s>“Yes,thehorse. AnditmaylessenhisguiltifIsay thatitwasdoneinself-defence,andthatJohnStraker was a man who was entirely unworthy of your con- fidence. But there goes the bell, and as I stand to win a little on this next race, I shall defer a lengthy explanationuntilamorefittingtime.” We had the corner of a Pullman car to ourselves that evening as we whirled back to London, and I fancy that the journey was a short one to Colonel Rossaswellastomyself,aswelistenedtoourcom- panion’snarrativeoftheeventswhichhadoccurred at the Dartmoor training-stables upon the Monday night, and the means by which he had unravelled them.</s>“I confess,” said he, “that any theories which I had formed from the newspaper reports were en- tirelyerroneous. Andyettherewereindicationsthere, had they not been overlaid by other details which concealed their true import. I went to Devonshire withtheconvictionthatFitzroySimpsonwasthetrue culprit, although, of course, I saw that the evidence againsthimwasbynomeanscomplete. Itwaswhile Iwasinthecarriage,justaswereachedthetrainer’s house, that the immense significance of the curried mutton occurred to me. You may remember that I was distrait, and remained sitting after you had all alighted. I was marvelling in my own mind how I couldpossiblyhaveoverlookedsoobviousaclue.” “I confess,” said the Colonel, “that even now I cannotseehowithelpsus.”“It was the first link in my chain of reasoning.</s>Powdered opium is by no means tasteless. The fla- vorisnotdisagreeable,butitisperceptible. Wereit mixed with any ordinary dish the eater would un- doubtedlydetectit,andwouldprobablyeatnomore.</s>A curry was exactly the medium which would dis- guise this taste. By no possible supposition could thisstranger,FitzroySimpson,havecausedcurryto beservedinthetrainer’sfamilythatnight,anditis surelytoomonstrousacoincidencetosupposethathe happenedtocomealongwithpowderedopiumupon the very night when a dish happened to be served whichwoulddisguisetheflavor. Thatisunthinkable.</s>ThereforeSimpsonbecomeseliminatedfromthecase, andourattentioncentersuponStrakerandhiswife, theonlytwopeoplewhocouldhavechosencurried muttonforsupperthatnight. Theopiumwasadded afterthedishwassetasideforthestable-boy,forthe others had the same for supper with no ill effects.</s>Whichofthem,then,hadaccesstothatdishwithout themaidseeingthem? “BeforedecidingthatquestionIhadgraspedthe significance of the silence of the dog, for one true inference invariably suggests others. The Simpson incident had shown me that a dog was kept in the stables, and yet, though some one had been in and had fetched out a horse, he had not barked enough to arouse the two lads in the loft. Obviously the midnightvisitorwassomeonewhomthedogknew well.</s>“I was already convinced, or almost convinced, that John Straker went down to the stables in the deadofthenightandtookoutSilverBlaze. Forwhat purpose? For a dishonest one, obviously, or why should he drug his own stable-boy? And yet I was atalosstoknowwhy. Therehavebeencasesbefore nowwheretrainershavemadesureofgreatsumsof money by laying against their own horses, through agents, and then preventing them from winning by fraud. Sometimesitisapullingjockey. Sometimesit issomesurerandsubtlermeans. Whatwasithere? I hopedthatthecontentsofhispocketsmighthelpme toformaconclusion.</s>“Andtheydidso. Youcannothaveforgottenthe singular knife which was found in the dead man’s hand, a knife which certainly no sane man would choose for a weapon. It was, as Dr. Watson told us, a form of knife which is used for the most delicate operationsknowninsurgery. Anditwastobeused for a delicate operation that night. You must know, with your wide experience of turf matters, Colonel Ross,thatitispossibletomakeaslightnickuponthe tendonsofahorse’sham,andtodoitsubcutaneously, soastoleaveabsolutelynotrace. Ahorsesotreated woulddevelopaslightlameness,whichwouldbeput downtoastraininexerciseoratouchofrheumatism, butnevertofoulplay.” “Villain! Scoundrel!”criedtheColonel.</s>“WehaveheretheexplanationofwhyJohnStraker wishedtotakethehorseoutontothemoor. Sospir- itedacreaturewouldhavecertainlyrousedthesound- est of sleepers when it felt the prick of the knife. It wasabsolutelynecessarytodoitintheopenair.” “Ihavebeenblind!”criedtheColonel. “Ofcourse that was why he needed the candle, and struck the match.” “Undoubtedly. ButinexamininghisbelongingsI wasfortunateenoughtodiscovernotonlythemethod of the crime, but even its motives. As a man of the world,Colonel,youknowthatmendonotcarryother people’s bills about in their pockets. We have most ofusquiteenoughtodotosettleourown. Iatonce concludedthatStrakerwasleadingadoublelife,and keeping a second establishment. The nature of the billshowedthattherewasaladyinthecase,andone who had expensive tastes. Liberal as you are with your servants, one can hardly expect that they can buytwenty-guineawalkingdressesfortheirladies. I questioned Mrs. Straker as to the dress without her knowing it, and having satisfied myself that it had never reached her, I made a note of the milliner’s address,andfeltthatbycallingtherewithStraker’s photograph I could easily dispose of the mythical Derbyshire.</s>“Fromthattimeonallwasplain. Strakerhadled out the horse to a hollow where his light would be invisible. Simpsoninhisflighthaddroppedhiscra- vat, and Straker had picked it up—with some idea, perhaps,thathemightuseitinsecuringthehorse’s leg. Onceinthehollow,hehadgotbehindthehorse and had struck a light; but the creature frightened atthesuddenglare,andwiththestrangeinstinctof animalsfeelingthatsomemischiefwasintended,had lashedout,andthesteelshoehadstruckStrakerfull ontheforehead. Hehadalready,inspiteoftherain, takenoffhisovercoatinordertodohisdelicatetask, and so, as he fell, his knife gashed his thigh. Do I makeitclear?” “Wonderful!”criedtheColonel. “Wonderful! You mighthavebeenthere!” “My final shot was, I confess a very long one. It struckmethatsoastuteamanasStrakerwouldnot undertakethisdelicatetendon-nickingwithoutalittle practice. What could he practice on? My eyes felluponthesheep,andIaskedaquestionwhich,rather tomysurprise,showedthatmysurmisewascorrect.</s>“When I returned to London I called upon the milliner,whohadrecognizedStrakerasanexcellent customerofthenameofDerbyshire,whohadavery dashing wife, with a strong partiality for expensive dresses. Ihavenodoubtthatthiswomanhadplunged himoverheadandearsindebt,andsoledhiminto thismiserableplot.” “Youhaveexplainedallbutonething,”criedthe Colonel. “Wherewasthehorse?” “Ah, it bolted, and was cared for by one of your neighbors. We must have an amnesty in that direc- tion, I think. This is Clapham Junction, if I am not mistaken,andweshallbeinVictoriainlessthanten minutes. If you care to smoke a cigar in our rooms, Colonel,Ishallbehappytogiveyouanyotherdetails whichmightinterestyou.”[Inpublishingtheseshortsketchesbaseduponthe numerous cases in which my companion’s singular giftshavemadeusthelistenersto,andeventuallythe actorsin,somestrangedrama,itisonlynaturalthat I should dwell rather upon his successes than upon hisfailures. Andthisnotsomuchforthesakeofhis reputations—for, indeed, it was when he was at his wits’endthathisenergyandhisversatilityweremost admirable—butbecausewherehefailedithappened too often that no one else succeeded, and that the talewasleftforeverwithoutaconclusion. Nowand again,however,itchancedthatevenwhenheerred, the truth was still discovered. I have noted of some half-dozencasesofthekindofwhich“TheAdventure of the Musgrave Ritual” and that which I am about to recount are the two which present the strongest featuresofinterest.] herlock Holmes was a man who seldom tookexerciseforexercise’ssake. Fewmen werecapableofgreatermusculareffort,and S hewasundoubtedlyoneofthefinestboxers ofhisweightthatIhaveeverseen;buthelookedupon aimlessbodilyexertionasawasteofenergy,andhe seldombestirredhimselfsavewhentherewassome professional object to be served. Then he was abso- lutelyuntiringandindefatigable. Thatheshouldhave kepthimselfintrainingundersuchcircumstancesis remarkable, but his diet was usually of the sparest, and his habits were simple to the verge of austerity.</s>Savefortheoccasionaluseofcocaine,hehadnovices, and he only turned to the drug as a protest against the monotony of existence when cases were scanty andthepapersuninteresting.</s>One day in early spring he had so far relaxed as togoforawalkwithmeinthePark,wherethefirst faintshootsofgreenwerebreakingoutupontheelms, andthestickyspear-headsofthechestnutswerejust beginningtoburstintotheirfive-foldleaves. Fortwo hours we rambled about together, in silence for the most part, as befits two men who know each other intimately. Itwasnearlyfivebeforewewerebackin BakerStreetoncemore.</s>“Begpardon,sir,”saidourpage-boy,asheopened thedoor. “There’sbeenagentlemanhereaskingfor you,sir.” Holmes glanced reproachfully at me. “So much for afternoon walks!” said he. “Has this gentleman gone,then?” “Yes,sir.” “Didn’tyouaskhimin?” “Yes,sir;hecamein.” “Howlongdidhewait?” “Half an hour, sir. He was a very restless gentle- man,sir,a-walkin’anda-stampin’allthetimehewas here. Iwaswaitin’outsidethedoor,sir,andIcould hear him. At last he outs into the passage, and he cries,‘Isthatmannevergoin’tocome?’ Thosewere his very words, sir. ‘You’ll only need to wait a little longer,’ says I. ‘Then I’ll wait in the open air, for I feel half choked,’ says he. ‘I’ll be back before long.’ Andwiththatheupsandheouts,andallIcouldsay wouldn’tholdhimback.” “Well, well, you did your best,” said Holmes, as wewalkedintoourroom. “It’sveryannoying,though, Watson. Iwasbadlyinneedofacase,andthislooks, fromtheman’simpatience,asifitwereofimportance.</s>Hullo! That’s not your pipe on the table. He must have left his behind him. A nice old brier with a good long stem of what the tobacconists call amber.</s>I wonder how many real amber mouthpieces there areinLondon? Somepeoplethinkthataflyinitisa sign. Well,hemusthavebeendisturbedinhismind toleaveapipebehindhimwhichheevidentlyvalues highly.” “How do you know that he values it highly?” I asked.</s>“Well,Ishouldputtheoriginalcostofthepipeat sevenandsixpence. Nowithas,yousee,beentwice mended, once in the wooden stem and once in the amber. Each of these mends, done, as you observe, withsilverbands,musthavecostmorethanthepipe did originally. The man must value the pipe highly whenhepreferstopatchitupratherthanbuyanew onewiththesamemoney.” “Anythingelse?”Iasked,forHolmeswasturning the pipe about in his hand, and staring at it in his peculiarpensiveway.</s>Hehelditupandtappedonitwithhislong,thin fore-finger, as a professor might who was lecturing onabone.</s>“Pipesareoccasionallyofextraordinaryinterest,” said he. “Nothing has more individuality, save per- haps watches and bootlaces. The indications here, however,areneitherverymarkednorveryimportant.</s>Theownerisobviouslyamuscularman,left-handed, with an excellent set of teeth, careless in his habits, andwithnoneedtopractiseeconomy.” My friend threw out the information in a very offhandway,butIsawthathecockedhiseyeatme toseeifIhadfollowedhisreasoning.</s>“Youthinkamanmustbewell-to-doifhesmokes aseven-shillingpipe,”saidI.“This is Grosvenor mixture at eightpence an ounce,” Holmes answered, knocking a little out on his palm. “As he might get an excellent smoke for halftheprice,hehasnoneedtopractiseeconomy.” “Andtheotherpoints?” “He has been in the habit of lighting his pipe at lampsandgas-jets. Youcanseethatitisquitecharred alldownoneside. Ofcourseamatchcouldnothave done that. Why should a man hold a match to the side of his pipe? But you cannot light it at a lamp withoutgettingthebowlcharred. Anditisallonthe right side of the pipe. From that I gather that he is a left-handed man. You hold your own pipe to the lamp,andseehownaturallyyou,beingright-handed, holdtheleftsidetotheflame. Youmightdoitonce theotherway,butnotasaconstancy. Thishasalways beenheldso. Thenhehasbittenthroughhisamber.</s>Ittakesamuscular,energeticfellow,andonewitha goodsetofteeth,todothat. ButifIamnotmistaken Ihearhimuponthestair,soweshallhavesomething moreinterestingthanhispipetostudy.” Aninstantlaterourdooropened,andatallyoung man entered the room. He was well but quietly dressedinadark-graysuit,andcarriedabrownwide- awake in his hand. I should have put him at about thirty,thoughhewasreallysomeyearsolder.</s>“I beg your pardon,” said he, with some embar- rassment;“IsupposeIshouldhaveknocked. Yes,of courseIshouldhaveknocked. ThefactisthatIama littleupset,andyoumustputitalldowntothat.”He passedhishandoverhisforeheadlikeamanwhois halfdazed,andthenfellratherthansatdownupona chair.</s>“I can see that you have not slept for a night or two,”saidHolmes,inhiseasy,genialway. “Thattries aman’snervesmorethanwork,andmoreeventhan pleasure. MayIaskhowIcanhelpyou?” “Iwantedyouradvice,sir. Idon’tknowwhatto doandmywholelifeseemstohavegonetopieces.” “You wish to employ me as a consulting detec- tive?” “Notthatonly. Iwantyouropinionasajudicious man—asamanoftheworld. IwanttoknowwhatI oughttodonext. IhopetoGodyou’llbeabletotell me.” He spoke in little, sharp, jerky outbursts, and it seemedtomethattospeakatallwasverypainfulto him,andthathiswillallthroughwasoverridinghis inclinations.</s>“It’saverydelicatething,”saidhe. “Onedoesnot liketospeakofone’sdomesticaffairstostrangers. It seemsdreadfultodiscusstheconductofone’swife with two men whom I have never seen before. It’s horribletohavetodoit. ButI’vegottotheendofmy tether,andImusthaveadvice.” “MydearMr.GrantMunro—”beganHolmes.</s>Our visitor sprang from his chair. “What!” he cried,“youknowmyname?” “If you wish to preserve your incognito,” said Holmes,smiling,“Iwouldsuggestthatyouceaseto writeyournameupontheliningofyourhat,orelse that you turn the crown towards the person whom youareaddressing. Iwasabouttosaythatmyfriend andIhavelistenedtoagoodmanystrangesecretsin thisroom,andthatwehavehadthegoodfortuneto bring peace to many troubled souls. I trust that we may do as much for you. Might I beg you, as time may prove to be of importance, to furnish me with thefactsofyourcasewithoutfurtherdelay?” Our visitor again passed his hand over his fore- head, as if he found it bitterly hard. From every gesture and expression I could see that he was a re- served, self-contained man, with a dash of pride in his nature, more likely to hide his wounds than to exposethem. Thensuddenly,withafiercegestureof his closed hand, like one who throws reserve to the winds,hebegan.</s>“Thefactsarethese,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe. “Iam amarriedman,andhavebeensoforthreeyears. Dur- ing that time my wife and I have loved each other as fondly and lived as happily as any two that ever werejoined. Wehavenothadadifference,notone,in thought or word or deed. And now, since last Mon- day,therehassuddenlysprungupabarrierbetween us,andIfindthatthereissomethinginherlifeand inherthoughtofwhichIknowaslittleasifshewere thewomanwhobrushesbymeinthestreet. Weare estranged,andIwanttoknowwhy.</s>“Now there is one thing that I want to impress uponyoubeforeIgoanyfurther,Mr.Holmes. Effie loves me. Don’t let there be any mistake about that.</s>She loves me with her whole heart and soul, and nevermorethannow. Iknowit. Ifeelit. Idon’twant to argue about that. A man can tell easily enough whenawomanloveshim. Butthere’sthissecretbe- tween us, and we can never be the same until it is cleared.” “Kindly let me have the facts, Mr. Munro,” said Holmes,withsomeimpatience.</s>“I’ll tell you what I know about Effie’s history.</s>ShewasawidowwhenImetherfirst,thoughquite young—only twenty-five. Her name then was Mrs.Hebron. She went out to America when she was young, and lived in the town of Atlanta, where she marriedthisHebron,whowasalawyerwithagood practice. They had one child, but the yellow fever brokeoutbadlyintheplace,andbothhusbandand childdiedofit. Ihaveseenhisdeathcertificate. This sickened her of America, and she came back to live with a maiden aunt at Pinner, in Middlesex. I may mentionthatherhusbandhadlefthercomfortablyoff, andthatshehadacapitalofaboutfourthousandfive hundredpounds,whichhadbeensowellinvestedby himthatitreturnedanaverageofsevenpercent. She hadonlybeensixmonthsatPinnerwhenImether; wefellinlovewitheachother,andwemarriedafew weeksafterwards.</s>“I am a hop merchant myself, and as I have an incomeofsevenoreighthundred,wefoundourselves comfortablyoff,andtookaniceeighty-pound-a-year villaatNorbury. Ourlittleplacewasverycountrified, considering that it is so close to town. We had an inn and two houses a little above us, and a single cottage at the other side of the field which faces us, andexceptthosetherewerenohousesuntilyougot half way to the station. My business took me into townatcertainseasons,butinsummerIhadlessto do,andtheninourcountryhomemywifeandIwere justashappyascouldbewished. Itellyouthatthere never was a shadow between us until this accursed affairbegan.</s>“There’sonethingIoughttotellyoubeforeIgo further. When we married, my wife made over all herpropertytome—ratheragainstmywill,forIsaw howawkwarditwouldbeifmybusinessaffairswent wrong. However, she would have it so, and it was done. Well,aboutsixweeksagoshecametome.</s>“‘Jack,’saidshe,‘whenyoutookmymoneyyou saidthatifeverIwantedanyIwastoaskyouforit.’ “‘Certainly,’saidI.‘It’sallyourown.’ “‘Well,’saidshe,‘Iwantahundredpounds.’ “Iwasabitstaggeredatthis,forIhadimagined it was simply a new dress or something of the kind thatshewasafter.</s>“‘Whatonearthfor?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Oh,’saidshe,inherplayfulway,‘yousaidthat you were only my banker, and bankers never ask questions,youknow.’ “‘If you really mean it, of course you shall have themoney,’saidI.</s>“‘Oh,yes,Ireallymeanit.’ “‘Andyouwon’ttellmewhatyouwantitfor?’ “‘Someday,perhaps,butnotjustatpresent,Jack.’ “So I had to be content with that, though it was thefirsttimethattherehadeverbeenanysecretbe- tweenus. Igaveheracheck,andIneverthoughtany more of the matter. It may have nothing to do with whatcameafterwards,butIthoughtitonlyrightto mentionit.</s>“Well, I told you just now that there is a cottage notfarfromourhouse. Thereisjustafieldbetween us,buttoreachityouhavetogoalongtheroadand then turn down a lane. Just beyond it is a nice little grove of Scotch firs, and I used to be very fond of strollingdownthere,fortreesarealwaysaneighborly kindofthings. Thecottagehadbeenstandingempty thiseightmonths,anditwasapity,foritwasapretty two storied place, with an old-fashioned porch and honeysuckleaboutit. Ihavestoodmanyatimeand thoughtwhataneatlittlehomesteaditwouldmake.</s>“Well, last Monday evening I was taking a stroll downthatway,whenImetanemptyvancomingup the lane, and saw a pile of carpets and things lying aboutonthegrass-plotbesidetheporch. Itwasclear thatthecottagehadatlastbeenlet. Iwalkedpastit, andwonderedwhatsortoffolktheywerewhohad cometolivesonearus. AndasIlookedIsuddenly becameawarethatafacewaswatchingmeoutofone oftheupperwindows.</s>“Idon’tknowwhattherewasaboutthatface,Mr.</s>Holmes,butitseemedtosendachillrightdownmy back. I was some little way off, so that I could not make out the features, but there was something un- natural and inhuman about the face. That was the impressionthatIhad,andImovedquicklyforwards togetanearerviewofthepersonwhowaswatching me. ButasIdidsothefacesuddenlydisappeared,so suddenlythatitseemedtohavebeenpluckedaway intothedarknessoftheroom. Istoodforfiveminutes thinkingthebusinessover,andtryingtoanalyzemy impressions. I could not tell if the face were that of a man or a woman. It had been too far from me for that. Butitscolorwaswhathadimpressedmemost.</s>Itwasofalividchalkywhite,andwithsomethingset and rigid about it which was shockingly unnatural.</s>So disturbed was I that I determined to see a little moreofthenewinmatesofthecottage. Iapproached andknockedatthedoor,whichwasinstantlyopened byatall,gauntwomanwithaharsh,forbiddingface.</s>“‘What may you be wantin’?’ she asked, in a Northernaccent.</s>“‘I am your neighbor over yonder,’ said I, nod- dingtowardsmyhouse. ‘Iseethatyouhaveonlyjustmovedin,soIthoughtthatifIcouldbeofanyhelp toyouinany—’ “‘Ay,we’lljustaskyewhenwewantye,’saidshe, andshutthedoorinmyface. Annoyedatthechurl- ish rebuff, I turned my back and walked home. All evening, though I tried to think of other things, my mindwouldstillturntotheapparitionatthewindow andtherudenessofthewoman. Ideterminedtosay nothingabouttheformertomywife,forsheisaner- vous, highly strung woman, and I had no wish that she would share the unpleasant impression which hadbeenproduceduponmyself. Iremarkedtoher, however,beforeIfellasleep,thatthecottagewasnow occupied,towhichshereturnednoreply.</s>“Iamusuallyanextremelysoundsleeper. Ithas beenastandingjestinthefamilythatnothingcould everwakemeduringthenight. Andyetsomehowon that particular night, whether it may have been the slightexcitementproducedbymylittleadventureor not I know not, but I slept much more lightly than usual. HalfinmydreamsIwasdimlyconsciousthat somethingwasgoingonintheroom,andgradually becameawarethatmywifehaddressedherselfand wasslippingonhermantleandherbonnet. Mylips werepartedtomurmuroutsomesleepywordsofsur- prise or remonstrance at this untimely preparation, when suddenly my half-opened eyes fell upon her face, illuminated by the candle-light, and astonish- ment held me dumb. She wore an expression such as I had never seen before—such as I should have thoughtherincapableofassuming. Shewasdeadly pale and breathing fast, glancing furtively towards thebedasshefastenedhermantle,toseeifshehad disturbed me. Then, thinking that I was still asleep, sheslippednoiselesslyfromtheroom,andaninstant laterIheardasharpcreakingwhichcouldonlycome from the hinges of the front door. I sat up in bed andrappedmyknucklesagainsttherailtomakecer- tain that I was truly awake. Then I took my watch from under the pillow. It was three in the morning.</s>Whatonthisearthcouldmywifebedoingoutonthe countryroadatthreeinthemorning? “I had sat for about twenty minutes turning the thingoverinmymindandtryingtofindsomepos- sible explanation. The more I thought, the more ex- traordinaryandinexplicablediditappear. Iwasstill puzzling over it when I heard the door gently close again,andherfootstepscomingupthestairs.</s>“‘Where in the world have you been, Effie?’ I askedassheentered.</s>“She gave a violent start and a kind of gasping cry when I spoke, and that cry and start troubled me more than all the rest, for there was something indescribablyguiltyaboutthem. Mywifehadalways been a woman of a frank, open nature, and it gave meachilltoseeherslinkingintoherownroom,and cryingoutandwincingwhenherownhusbandspoke toher.</s>“‘You awake, Jack!’ she cried, with a nervous laugh. ‘Why, I thought that nothing could awake you.’ “‘Wherehaveyoubeen?’ Iasked,moresternly.</s>“‘Idon’twonderthatyouaresurprised,’saidshe, and I could see that her fingers were trembling as sheundidthefasteningsofhermantle. ‘Why,Inever rememberhavingdonesuchathinginmylifebefore.</s>The fact is that I felt as though I were choking, and hadaperfectlongingforabreathoffreshair. Ireally thinkthatIshouldhavefaintedifIhadnotgoneout.</s>Istoodatthedoorforafewminutes,andnowIam quitemyselfagain.’ “Allthetimethatshewastellingmethisstoryshe neveroncelookedinmydirection,andhervoicewas quiteunlikeherusualtones. Itwasevidenttomethat shewassayingwhatwasfalse. Isaidnothinginreply, butturnedmyfacetothewall,sickatheart,withmy mind filled with a thousand venomous doubts and suspicions. Whatwasitthatmywifewasconcealing from me? Where had she been during that strange expedition? I felt that I should have no peace until Iknew,andyetIshrankfromaskingheragainafter onceshehadtoldmewhatwasfalse. Alltherestof thenightItossedandtumbled,framingtheoryafter theory,eachmoreunlikelythanthelast.</s>“IshouldhavegonetotheCitythatday,butIwas toodisturbedinmymindtobeabletopayattention tobusinessmatters. Mywifeseemedtobeasupset asmyself,andIcouldseefromthelittlequestioning glanceswhichshekeptshootingatmethatsheunder- stood that I disbelieved her statement, and that she wasatherwits’endwhattodo. Wehardlyexchanged awordduringbreakfast,andimmediatelyafterwards I went out for a walk, that I might think the matter outinthefreshmorningair.</s>“IwentasfarastheCrystalPalace,spentanhour in the grounds, and was back in Norbury by one o’clock. It happened that my way took me past the cottage, and I stopped for an instant to look at the windows,andtoseeifIcouldcatchaglimpseofthe strangefacewhichhadlookedoutatmeontheday before. As I stood there, imagine my surprise, Mr.</s>Holmes, when the door suddenly opened and my wifewalkedout.“Iwasstruckdumbwithastonishmentatthesight ofher;butmyemotionswerenothingtothosewhich showedthemselvesuponherfacewhenoureyesmet.</s>Sheseemedforaninstanttowishtoshrinkbackin- sidethehouseagain;andthen,seeinghowuselessall concealmentmustbe,shecameforward,withavery whitefaceandfrightenedeyeswhichbeliedthesmile uponherlips.</s>“‘Ah,Jack,’shesaid,‘IhavejustbeenintoseeifI canbeofanyassistancetoournewneighbors. Why doyoulookatmelikethat,Jack? Youarenotangry withme?’ “‘So,’ said I, ‘this is where you went during the night.’ “‘Whatdoyoumean?’ shecried.</s>“‘You came here. I am sure of it. Who are these people,thatyoushouldvisitthematsuchanhour?’ “‘Ihavenotbeenherebefore.’ “‘Howcanyoutellmewhatyouknowisfalse?’ I cried. ‘Yourveryvoicechangesasyouspeak. When haveIever hadasecret fromyou? Ishallenter that cottage,andIshallprobethemattertothebottom.’ “‘No, no, Jack, for God’s sake!’ she gasped, in uncontrollable emotion. Then, as I approached the door,sheseizedmysleeveandpulledmebackwith convulsivestrength.</s>“‘Iimploreyounottodothis,Jack,’shecried. ‘I swear that I will tell you everything some day, but nothing but misery can come of it if you enter that cottage.’ Then,asItriedtoshakeheroff,sheclungto meinafrenzyofentreaty.</s>“‘Trust me, Jack!’ she cried. ‘Trust me only this once. Youwillneverhavecausetoregretit. Youknow thatIwouldnothaveasecretfromyouifitwerenot foryourownsake. Ourwholelivesareatstakeinthis.</s>If you come home with me, all will be well. If you forceyourwayintothatcottage,allisoverbetween us.’ “Therewassuchearnestness,suchdespair,inher mannerthatherwordsarrestedme,andIstoodirres- olutebeforethedoor.</s>“‘I will trust you on one condition, and on one conditiononly,’saidIatlast. ‘Itisthatthismystery comestoanendfromnow. Youareatlibertytopre- serveyoursecret,butyoumustpromisemethatthere shallbenomorenightlyvisits,nomoredoingswhich arekeptfrommyknowledge. Iamwillingtoforget thosewhicharepassedifyouwillpromisethatthere shallbenomoreinthefuture.’ “‘Iwassurethatyouwouldtrustme,’shecried, withagreatsighofrelief. ‘Itshallbejustasyouwish.</s>Comeaway—oh,comeawayuptothehouse.’ “Stillpullingatmysleeve,sheledmeawayfrom thecottage. AswewentIglancedback,andtherewas that yellow livid face watching us out of the upper window. Whatlinkcouldtherebebetweenthatcrea- ture and my wife? Or how could the coarse, rough womanwhomIhadseenthedaybeforebeconnected withher? Itwasastrangepuzzle,andyetIknewthat my mind could never know ease again until I had solvedit.</s>“FortwodaysafterthisIstayedathome,andmy wife appeared to abide loyally by our engagement, for,asfarasIknow,sheneverstirredoutofthehouse.</s>Onthethirdday,however,Ihadampleevidencethat hersolemnpromisewasnotenoughtoholdherback fromthissecretinfluencewhichdrewherawayfrom herhusbandandherduty.</s>“Ihadgoneintotownonthatday,butIreturned bythe2.40insteadofthe3.36,whichismyusualtrain.</s>AsIenteredthehousethemaidranintothehallwith astartledface.</s>“‘Whereisyourmistress?’ Iasked.</s>“‘I think that she has gone out for a walk,’ she answered.</s>“My mind was instantly filled with suspicion. I rushedupstairstomakesurethatshewasnotinthe house. AsIdidsoIhappenedtoglanceoutofoneof the upper windows, and saw the maid with whom I had just been speaking running across the field in thedirectionofthecottage. ThenofcourseIsawex- actlywhatitallmeant. Mywifehadgoneoverthere, and had asked the servant to call her if I should re- turn. Tinglingwithanger,Irusheddownandhurried across,determinedtoendthematteronceandforever.</s>Isawmywifeandthemaidhurryingbackalongthe lane,butIdidnotstoptospeakwiththem. Inthecot- tagelaythesecretwhichwascastingashadowover my life. I vowed that, come what might, it should be a secret no longer. I did not even knock when I reachedit,butturnedthehandleandrushedintothe passage.</s>“Itwasallstillandquietuponthegroundfloor. In thekitchenakettlewassingingonthefire,andalarge blackcatlaycoiledupinthebasket;buttherewasno signofthewomanwhomIhadseenbefore. Iraninto the other room, but it was equally deserted. Then I rushed up the stairs, only to find two other rooms emptyanddesertedatthetop. Therewasnooneat all in the whole house. The furniture and pictureswere of the most common and vulgar description, save in the one chamber at the window of which I hadseenthestrangeface. Thatwascomfortableand elegant,andallmysuspicionsroseintoafiercebitter flame when I saw that on the mantelpiece stood a copy of a full-length photograph of my wife, which hadbeentakenatmyrequestonlythreemonthsago.</s>“I stayed long enough to make certain that the housewasabsolutelyempty. ThenIleftit,feelinga weight at my heart such as I had never had before.</s>MywifecameoutintothehallasIenteredmyhouse; butIwastoohurtandangrytospeakwithher,and pushingpasther,Imademywayintomystudy. She followedme,however,beforeIcouldclosethedoor.</s>“‘IamsorrythatIbrokemypromise,Jack,’said she;‘butifyouknewallthecircumstancesIamsure thatyouwouldforgiveme.’ “‘Tellmeeverything,then,’saidI.</s>“‘Icannot,Jack,Icannot,’shecried.</s>“‘Untilyoutellmewhoitisthathasbeenliving inthatcottage,andwhoitistowhomyouhavegiven that photograph, there can never be any confidence between us,’ said I, and breaking away from her, I leftthehouse. Thatwasyesterday,Mr.Holmes,andI havenotseenhersince,nordoIknowanythingmore aboutthisstrangebusiness. Itisthefirstshadowthat hascomebetweenus,andithassoshakenmethatI donotknowwhatIshoulddoforthebest. Suddenly thismorningitoccurredtomethatyouweretheman to advise me, so I have hurried to you now, and I placemyselfunreservedlyinyourhands. Ifthereis anypointwhichIhavenotmadeclear,prayquestion meaboutit. But,aboveall,tellmequicklywhatIam todo,forthismiseryismorethanIcanbear.” HolmesandIhadlistenedwiththeutmostinter- est to this extraordinary statement, which had been deliveredinthejerky,brokenfashionofamanwho isundertheinfluenceofextremeemotions. Mycom- panion sat silent for some time, with his chin upon hishand,lostinthought.</s>“Tell me,” said he at last, “could you swear that thiswasaman’sfacewhichyousawatthewindow?” “EachtimethatIsawitIwassomedistanceaway fromit,sothatitisimpossibleformetosay.” “Youappear,however,tohavebeendisagreeably impressedbyit.” “It seemed to be of an unnatural color, and to have a strange rigidity about the features. When I approached,itvanishedwithajerk.” “How long is it since your wife asked you for a hundredpounds?” “Nearlytwomonths.” “Have you ever seen a photograph of her first husband?” “No;therewasagreatfireatAtlantaveryshortly afterhisdeath,andallherpapersweredestroyed.” “And yet she had a certificate of death. You say thatyousawit.” “Yes;shegotaduplicateafterthefire.” “Did you ever meet any one who knew her in America?” “No.” “Didsheevertalkofrevisitingtheplace?” “No.” “Orgetlettersfromit?” “No.” “Thank you. I should like to think over the mat- ter a little now. If the cottage is now permanently deserted we may have some difficulty. If, on the otherhand,asIfancyismorelikely,theinmateswere warnedofyourcoming,andleftbeforeyouentered yesterday,thentheymaybebacknow,andweshould clear it all up easily. Let me advise you, then, to re- turntoNorbury,andtoexaminethewindowsofthe cottage again. If you have reason to believe that is inhabited,donotforceyourwayin,butsendawire tomyfriendandme. Weshallbewithyouwithinan hourofreceivingit,andweshallthenverysoonget tothebottomofthebusiness.” “Andifitisstillempty?” “InthatcaseIshallcomeoutto-morrowandtalk itoverwithyou. Good-bye,and,aboveall,donotfret untilyouknowthatyoureallyhaveacauseforit.” “Iamafraidthatthisisabadbusiness,Watson,” said my companion, as he returned after accompa- nying Mr. Grant Munro to the door. “What do you makeofit?” “Ithadanuglysound,”Ianswered.</s>“Yes. There’s blackmail in it, or I am much mis- taken.” “Andwhoistheblackmailer?” “Well,itmustbethecreaturewholivesintheonly comfortable room in the place, and has her photo- graph above his fireplace. Upon my word, Watson, thereissomethingveryattractiveaboutthatlividface atthewindow,andIwouldnothavemissedthecase forworlds.” “Youhaveatheory?”“Yes,aprovisionalone. ButIshallbesurprisedif itdoesnotturnouttobecorrect. Thiswoman’sfirst husbandisinthatcottage.” “Whydoyouthinkso?” “How else can we explain her frenzied anxiety that her second one should not enter it? The facts, asIreadthem,aresomethinglikethis: Thiswoman was married in America. Her husband developed some hateful qualities; or shall we say that he con- tractedsomeloathsomedisease,andbecamealeper or an imbecile? She flies from him at last, returns toEngland,changeshername,andstartsherlife,as shethinks,afresh. Shehasbeenmarriedthreeyears, andbelievesthatherpositionisquitesecure,having shownherhusbandthedeathcertificateofsomeman whose name she has assumed, when suddenly her whereabouts is discovered by her first husband; or, wemaysuppose,bysomeunscrupulouswomanwho hasattachedherselftotheinvalid. Theywritetothe wife,andthreatentocomeandexposeher. Sheasks forahundredpounds,andendeavorstobuythemoff.</s>Theycomeinspiteofit,andwhenthehusbandmen- tionscasuallytothewifethattherearenew-comers inthecottage,sheknowsinsomewaythattheyare herpursuers. Shewaitsuntilherhusbandisasleep, and then she rushes down to endeavor to persuade them to leave her in peace. Having no success, she goesagainnextmorning,andherhusbandmeetsher, ashehastoldus,asshecomesout. Shepromiseshim then not to go there again, but two days afterwards the hope of getting rid of those dreadful neighbors wastoostrongforher,andshemadeanotherattempt, taking down with her the photograph which had probably been demanded from her. In the midst of thisinterviewthemaidrushedintosaythatthemas- terhadcomehome,onwhichthewife,knowingthat hewouldcomestraightdowntothecottage,hurried the inmates out at the back door, into the grove of fir-trees,probably,whichwasmentionedasstanding near. Inthiswayhefoundtheplacedeserted. Ishall be very much surprised, however, if it still so when hereconnoitresitthisevening. Whatdoyouthinkof mytheory?” “Itisallsurmise.” “Butatleastitcoversallthefacts. Whennewfacts cometoourknowledgewhichcannotbecoveredby it, it will be time enough to reconsider it. We can do nothing more until we have a message from our friendatNorbury.” But we had not a very long time to wait for that.</s>Itcamejustaswehadfinishedourtea.</s>“The cottage is still tenanted,” it said.</s>“Haveseenthefaceagainatthewindow.</s>Willmeettheseveno’clocktrain,andwill takenostepsuntilyouarrive.” Hewaswaitingontheplatformwhenwestepped out,andwecouldseeinthelightofthestationlamps thathewasverypale,andquiveringwithagitation.</s>“Theyarestillthere,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe,laying hishandharduponmyfriend’ssleeve. “Isawlights inthecottageasIcamedown. Weshallsettleitnow onceandforall.” “What is your plan, then?” asked Holmes, as he walkeddownthedarktree-linedroad.</s>“Iamgoingtoforcemywayinandseeformyself who is in the house. I wish you both to be there as witnesses.” “You are quite determined to do this, in spite of yourwife’swarningthatitisbetterthatyoushould notsolvethemystery?” “Yes,Iamdetermined.” “Well,Ithinkthatyouareintheright. Anytruth isbetterthanindefinitedoubt. Wehadbettergoup atonce. Ofcourse,legally,weareputtingourselves hopelessly in the wrong; but I think that it is worth it.” Itwasaverydarknight,andathinrainbeganto fall as we turned from the high road into a narrow lane, deeply rutted, with hedges on either side. Mr.</s>GrantMunropushedimpatientlyforward,however, andwestumbledafterhimasbestwecould.</s>“Therearethelightsofmyhouse,”hemurmured, pointingtoaglimmeramongthetrees. “Andhereis thecottagewhichIamgoingtoenter.” We turned a corner in the lane as he spoke, and therewasthebuildingclosebesideus. Ayellowbar falling across the black foreground showed that the door was not quite closed, and one window in the upperstorywasbrightlyilluminated. Aswelooked, wesawadarkblurmovingacrosstheblind.</s>“Thereisthatcreature!”criedGrantMunro. “You can see for yourselves that some one is there. Now followme,andweshallsoonknowall.” Weapproachedthedoor;butsuddenlyawoman appearedoutoftheshadowandstoodinthegolden trackofthelamp-light. Icouldnotseeherfaceinthe darkness,butherarmswerethrownoutinanattitude ofentreaty.</s>“For God’s sake, don’t Jack!” she cried. “I had a presentiment that you would come this evening.Thinkbetterofit,dear! Trustmeagain,andyouwill neverhavecausetoregretit.” “I have trusted you too long, Effie,” he cried, sternly. “Leavegoofme! Imustpassyou. Myfriends andIaregoingtosettlethismatteronceandforever!” Hepushedhertooneside,andwefollowedclosely afterhim. Ashethrewthedooropenanoldwoman ran out in front of him and tried to bar his passage, buthethrustherback,andaninstantafterwardswe werealluponthestairs. GrantMunrorushedintothe lightedroomatthetop,andweenteredathisheels.</s>Itwasacosy,well-furnishedapartment,withtwo candles burning upon the table and two upon the mantelpiece. In the corner, stooping over a desk, there sat what appeared to be a little girl. Her face was turned away as we entered, but we could see thatshewasdressedinaredfrock,andthatshehad longwhitegloveson. Asshewhiskedroundtous,I gaveacryofsurpriseandhorror. Thefacewhichshe turnedtowardsuswasofthestrangestlividtint,and thefeatureswereabsolutelydevoidofanyexpression.</s>Aninstantlaterthemysterywasexplained. Holmes, withalaugh,passedhishandbehindthechild’sear,a maskpeeledofffromhercountenance,antherewasa littlecoalblacknegress,withallherwhiteteethflash- ing in amusement at our amazed faces. I burst out laughing, out of sympathy with her merriment; but GrantMunrostoodstaring,withhishandclutching histhroat.</s>“My God!” he cried. “What can be the meaning ofthis?” “Iwilltellyouthemeaningofit,”criedthelady, sweepingintotheroomwithaproud,setface. “You have forced me, against my own judgment, to tell you,andnowwemustbothmakethebestofit. My husbanddiedatAtlanta. Mychildsurvived.” “Yourchild?” She drew a large silver locket from her bosom.</s>“Youhaveneverseenthisopen.” “Iunderstoodthatitdidnotopen.” Shetouchedaspring,andthefronthingedback.</s>Therewasaportraitwithinofamanstrikinglyhand- someandintelligent-looking,butbearingunmistak- ablesignsuponhisfeaturesofhisAfricandescent.</s>“That is John Hebron, of Atlanta,” said the lady, “andanoblermanneverwalkedtheearth. Icutmy- selfofffrommyraceinordertowedhim,butnever once while he lived did I for an instant regret it. It wasourmisfortunethatouronlychildtookafterhis peopleratherthanmine. Itisoftensoinsuchmatches, andlittleLucyisdarkerfarthaneverherfatherwas.</s>Butdarkorfair,sheismyowndearlittlegirlie,and hermother’spet.”Thelittlecreatureranacrossatthe wordsandnestledupagainstthelady’sdress. “When I left her in America,” she continued, “it was only becauseherhealthwasweak,andthechangemight have done her harm. She was given to the care of a faithful Scotch woman who had once been our ser- vant. NeverforaninstantdidIdreamofdisowning her as my child. But when chance threw you in my way, Jack, and I learned to love you, I feared to tell you about my child. God forgive me, I feared that I shouldloseyou,andIhadnotthecouragetotellyou.</s>Ihadtochoosebetweenyou,andinmyweaknessI turnedawayfrommyownlittlegirl. ForthreeyearsI havekeptherexistenceasecretfromyou,butIheard fromthenurse,andIknewthatallwaswellwithher.</s>Atlast,however,therecameanoverwhelmingdesire toseethechildoncemore. Istruggledagainstit,but invain. ThoughIknewthedanger,Ideterminedto have the child over, if it were but for a few weeks. I sent a hundred pounds to the nurse, and I gave her instructionsaboutthiscottage,sothatshemightcome asaneighbor,withoutmyappearingtobeinanyway connectedwithher. Ipushedmyprecautionssofar astoorderhertokeepthechildinthehouseduring thedaytime,andtocoverupherlittlefaceandhands sothateventhosewhomightseeheratthewindow shouldnotgossipabouttherebeingablackchildin theneighborhood. IfIhadbeenlesscautiousImight havebeenmorewise,butIwashalfcrazywithfear thatyoushouldlearnthetruth.</s>“Itwasyouwhotoldmefirstthatthecottagewas occupied. Ishouldhavewaitedforthemorning,butI couldnotsleepforexcitement,andsoatlastIslipped out,knowinghowdifficultitistoawakeyou. Butyou saw me go, and that was the beginning of my trou- bles. Nextdayyouhadmysecretatyourmercy,but you nobly refrained from pursuing your advantage.</s>Three days later, however, the nurse and child only justescapedfromthebackdoorasyourushedinat the front one. And now to-night you at last know all,andIaskyouwhatistobecomeofus,mychild and me?” She clasped her hands and waited for an answer.</s>It was a long ten minutes before Grant Munro brokethesilence,andwhenhisanswercameitwas oneofwhichIlovetothink. Heliftedthelittlechild, kissed her, and then, still carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned towards the door.</s>“We can talk it over more comfortably at home,”saidhe. “Iamnotaverygoodman,Effie,butIthink thatIamabetteronethanyouhavegivenmecredit forbeing.” HolmesandIfollowedthemdownthelane,and myfriendpluckedatmysleeveaswecameout.</s>“Ithink,”saidhe,“thatweshallbeofmoreusein LondonthaninNorbury.” Not another word did he say of the case until late that night, when he was turning away, with his lightedcandle,forhisbedroom.</s>“Watson,” said he, “if it should ever strike you thatIamgettingalittleover-confidentinmypowers, orgivinglesspainstoacasethanitdeserves,kindly whisper‘Norbury’inmyear,andIshallbeinfinitely obligedtoyou.”hortlyaftermymarriageIhadboughta connectioninthePaddingtondistrict. Old Mr. Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, S had at one time an excellent general prac- tice;buthisage,andanafflictionofthenatureofSt.</s>Vitus’sdancefromwhichhesuffered,hadverymuch thinned it. The public not unnaturally goes on the principlethathewhowouldhealothersmusthimself bewhole,andlooksaskanceatthecurativepowersof the man whose own case is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thusasmypredecessorweakenedhispractice declined,untilwhenIpurchaseditfromhimithad sunk from twelve hundred to little more than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my ownyouthandenergy,andwasconvincedthatina veryfewyearstheconcernwouldbeasflourishingas ever.</s>For three months after taking over the practice I was kept very closely at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock Holmes, for I was too busy to visit BakerStreet,andheseldomwentanywherehimself save upon professional business. I was surprised, therefore, when, one morning in June, as I sat read- ingtheBritishMedicalJournalafterbreakfast,Iheard a ring at the bell, followed by the high, somewhat stridenttonesofmyoldcompanion’svoice.</s>“Ah,mydearWatson,”saidhe,stridingintothe room, “I am very delighted to see you! I trust that Mrs.Watsonhasentirelyrecoveredfromallthelittle excitementsconnectedwithouradventureoftheSign ofFour.” “Thankyou,wearebothverywell,”saidI,shak- inghimwarmlybythehand.</s>“AndIhope,also,”hecontinued,sittingdownin therocking-chair,“thatthecaresofmedicalpractice have not entirely obliterated the interest which you usedtotakeinourlittledeductiveproblems.” “On the contrary,” I answered, “it was only last nightthatIwaslookingovermyoldnotes,andclas- sifyingsomeofourpastresults.” “I trust that you don’t consider your collection closed.” “Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to havesomemoreofsuchexperiences.” “To-day,forexample?” “Yes,to-day,ifyoulike.” “AndasfaroffasBirmingham?” “Certainly,ifyouwishit.” “Andthepractice?” “Idomyneighbor’swhenhegoes. Heisalways readytoworkoffthedebt.” “Ha! Nothingcouldbebetter,”saidHolmes,lean- ingbackinhischairandlookingkeenlyatmefrom underhishalfclosedlids. “Iperceivethatyouhave beenunwelllately. Summercoldsarealwaysalittle trying.” “Iwasconfinedtothehousebyaseverechillfor three days last week. I thought, however, that I had castoffeverytraceofit.” “Soyouhave. Youlookremarkablyrobust.” “How,then,didyouknowofit?” “Mydearfellow,youknowmymethods.” “Youdeducedit,then?” “Certainly.” “Andfromwhat?” “Fromyourslippers.” IglanceddownatthenewpatentleatherswhichI waswearing. “Howonearth—”Ibegan,butHolmes answeredmyquestionbeforeitwasasked.</s>“Yourslippersarenew,”hesaid. “Youcouldnot have had them more than a few weeks. The soles which you are at this moment presenting to me are slightlyscorched. ForamomentIthoughttheymight havegotwetandbeenburnedinthedrying. Butnear theinstepthereisasmallcircularwaferofpaperwith theshopman’shieroglyphicsuponit. Dampwouldof coursehaveremovedthis. Youhad,then,beensitting with our feet outstretched to the fire, which a man would hardly do even in so wet a June as this if he wereinhisfullhealth.” LikeallHolmes’sreasoningthethingseemedsim- plicityitselfwhenitwasonceexplained. Hereadthe thoughtuponmyfeatures,andhissmilehadatinge ofbitterness.</s>“IamafraidthatIrathergivemyselfawaywhenI explain,”saidhe. “Resultswithoutcausesaremuch moreimpressive. YouarereadytocometoBirming- ham,then?” “Certainly. Whatisthecase?” “You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outsideinafour-wheeler. Canyoucomeatonce?” “Inaninstant.”Iscribbledanotetomyneighbor, rushedupstairstoexplainthemattertomywife,and joinedHolmesuponthedoor-step.</s>“Your neighbor is a doctor,” said he, nodding at thebrassplate.</s>“Yes;heboughtapracticeasIdid.” “Anold-establishedone?”“Justthesameasmine. Bothhavebeeneversince thehouseswerebuilt.” “Ah! Thenyougotholdofthebestofthetwo.” “IthinkIdid. Buthowdoyouknow?” “Bythesteps,myboy. Yoursarewornthreeinches deeperthanhis. Butthisgentlemaninthecabismy client, Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to introduce you tohim. Whipyourhorseup,cabby,forwehaveonly justtimetocatchourtrain.” ThemanwhomIfoundmyselffacingwasawell built,fresh-complexionedyoungfellow,withafrank, honestfaceandaslight,crisp,yellowmustache. He wore a very shiny top hat and a neat suit of sober black, which made him look what he was—a smart youngCityman,oftheclasswhohavebeenlabeled cockneys, but who give us our crack volunteer reg- iments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sportsmen than any body of men in these islands.</s>His round, ruddy face was naturally full of cheeri- ness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to me to bepulleddowninahalf-comicaldistress. Itwasnot, however,untilwewereallinafirst-classcarriageand wellstarteduponourjourneytoBirminghamthatI was able to learn what the trouble was which had drivenhimtoSherlockHolmes.</s>“We have a clear run here of seventy minutes,” Holmesremarked. “Iwantyou,Mr.HallPycroft,to tellmyfriendyourveryinterestingexperienceexactly asyouhavetoldittome,orwithmoredetailifpossi- ble. It will be of use to me to hear the succession of eventsagain. Itisacase,Watson,whichmayproveto have something in it, or may prove to have nothing, butwhich,atleast,presentsthoseunusualandoutre´ features which are as dear to you as they are to me.</s>Now,Mr.Pycroft,Ishallnotinterruptyouagain.” Ouryoungcompanionlookedatmewithatwin- kleinhiseye.</s>“Theworstofthestoryis,”saidhe,“thatIshow myself up as such a confounded fool. Of course it may work out all right, and I don’t see that I could havedoneotherwise;butifIhavelostmycribandget nothing in exchange I shall feel what a soft Johnnie I have been. I’m not very good at telling a story, Dr.</s>Watson,butitislikethiswithme: “IusedtohaveabilletatCoxon&Woodhouse’s, ofDraper’sGardens,buttheywereletinearlyinthe springthroughtheVenezuelanloan,asnodoubtyou remember,andcameanastycropper. Ihadbeenwith them five years, and old Coxon gave me a ripping goodtestimonialwhenthesmashcame,butofcourse weclerkswereallturnedadrift,thetwenty-sevenof us. Itriedhereandtriedthere,buttherewerelotsof other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it was a perfectfrostforalongtime. Ihadbeentakingthree pounds a week at Coxon’s, and I had saved about seventyofthem,butIsoonworkedmywaythrough thatandoutattheotherend. Iwasfairlyattheend ofmytetheratlast,andcouldhardlyfindthestamps toanswertheadvertisementsortheenvelopestostick themto. Ihadwornoutmybootspaddlingupoffice stairs,andIseemedjustasfarfromgettingabilletas ever.</s>“AtlastIsawavacancyatMawson&Williams’s, thegreatstock-brokingfirminLombardStreet. Idare sayE.C.isnotmuchinyourline, butIcantellyou that this is about the richest house in London. The advertisement was to be answered by letter only. I sentinmytestimonialandapplication,butwithout theleasthopeofgettingit. Backcameananswerby return, saying that if I would appear next Monday I might take over my new duties at once, provided thatmyappearancewassatisfactory. Nooneknows howthesethingsareworked. Somepeoplesaythat themanagerjustplungeshishandintotheheapand takesthefirstthatcomes. Anyhowitwasmyinnings thattime,andIdon’teverwishtofeelbetterpleased.</s>The screw was a pound a week rise, and the duties justaboutthesameasatCoxon’s.</s>“AndnowIcometothequeerpartofthebusiness.</s>IwasindiggingsoutHampsteadway,17Potter’sTer- race. Well, I was sitting doing a smoke that very eveningafterIhadbeenpromisedtheappointment, when up came my landlady with a card which had “ArthurPinner,FinancialAgent,”printeduponit. I hadneverheardthenamebeforeandcouldnotimag- inewhathewantedwithme;but,ofcourse,Iasked her to show him up. In he walked, a middle-sized, dark-haired, dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of the sheeny about his nose. He had a brisk kindofwaywithhimandspokesharply,likeaman whoknewthevalueoftime.</s>“‘Mr.HallPycroft,Ibelieve?’ saidhe.</s>“‘Yes, sir,’ I answered, pushing a chair towards him.</s>“‘LatelyengagedatCoxon&Woodhouse’s?’ “‘Yes,sir.’ “‘AndnowonthestaffofMawson’s.’ “‘Quiteso.’ “‘Well,’saidhe,‘thefactisthatIhaveheardsome reallyextraordinarystoriesaboutyourfinancialabil- ity. You remember Parker, who used to be Coxon’s manager? Hecanneversayenoughaboutit.’“Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had al- waysbeenprettysharpintheoffice,butIhadnever dreamed that I was talked about in the City in this fashion.</s>“‘Youhaveagoodmemory?’ saidhe.</s>“‘Prettyfair,’Ianswered,modestly.</s>“‘Haveyoukeptintouchwiththemarketwhile youhavebeenoutofwork?’ heasked.</s>“‘Yes. Ireadthestockexchangelisteverymorn- ing.’ “‘Now that shows real application!’ he cried.</s>‘Thatisthewaytoprosper! Youwon’tmindmytest- ingyou,willyou? Letmesee. HowareAyrshires?’ “‘Ahundredandsixandaquartertoahundred andfiveandseven-eighths.’ “‘AndNewZealandconsolidated?’ “‘Ahundredandfour.’ “‘AndBritishBrokenHills?’ “‘Seventoseven-and-six.’ “‘Wonderful!’ hecried,withhishandsup. ‘This quite fits in with all that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are very much too good to be a clerk at Mawson’s!’ “This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think. ‘Well,’ said I, ‘other people don’t think quite somuchofmeasyouseemtodo,Mr.Pinner. Ihad ahardenoughfighttogetthisberth, andIamvery gladtohaveit.’ “‘Pooh, man; you should soar above it. You are not in your true sphere. Now, I’ll tell you how it standswithme. WhatIhavetoofferislittleenough whenmeasuredbyyourability,butwhencompared withMawson’s,it’slighttodark. Letmesee. When doyougotoMawson’s?’ “‘OnMonday.’ “‘Ha, ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutterthatyoudon’tgothereatall.’ “‘NotgotoMawson’s?’ “‘No, sir. By that day you will be the business manageroftheFranco-MidlandHardwareCompany, Limited,withahundredandthirty-fourbranchesin thetownsandvillagesofFrance,notcountingonein BrusselsandoneinSanRemo.’ “This took my breath away. ‘I never heard of it,’ saidI.</s>“‘Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the capital was all privately subscribed, and it’s too good a thing to let the public into. My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter, and joins the board af- ter allotment as managing director. He knew I was in the swim down here, and asked me to pick up a goodmancheap. Ayoung,pushingmanwithplenty of snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me here tonight. We can only offer you a beggarlyfivehundredtostartwith.’ “‘Fivehundredayear!’ Ishouted.</s>“‘Onlythatatthebeginning;butyouaretohave anoverridingcommissionofonepercentonallbusi- nessdonebyyouragents,andyoumaytakemyword foritthatthiswillcometomorethanyoursalary.’ “‘ButIknownothingabouthardware.’ “‘Tut,myboy;youknowaboutfigures.’ “My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in my chair. But suddenly a little chill of doubt came uponme.</s>“‘Imustbefrankwithyou,’saidI.‘Mawsononly gives me two hundred, but Mawson is safe. Now, really,Iknowsolittleaboutyourcompanythat—’ “‘Ah,smart,smart!’ hecried,inakindofecstasy ofdelight. ‘Youaretheverymanforus. Youarenot tobetalkedover,andquiteright,too. Now,here’sa noteforahundredpounds,andifyouthinkthatwe candobusinessyoumayjustslipitintoyourpocket asanadvanceuponyoursalary.’ “‘Thatisveryhandsome,’saidI.‘WhenshouldI takeovermynewduties?’ “‘Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one,’ said he.</s>‘Ihaveanoteinmypocketherewhichyouwilltake tomybrother. Youwillfindhimat126bCorporation Street, where the temporary offices of the company aresituated. Ofcoursehemustconfirmyourengage- ment,butbetweenourselvesitwillbeallright.’ “‘Really,Ihardlyknowhowtoexpressmygrati- tude,Mr.Pinner,’saidI.</s>“‘Not at all, my boy. You have only got your desserts. Thereareoneortwosmallthings—merefor- malities—whichImustarrangewithyou. Youhave abitofpaperbesideyouthere. Kindlywriteuponit “Iamperfectlywillingtoactasbusinessmanagerto theFranco-MidlandHardwareCompany,Limited,at aminimumsalaryof£500.”’ “I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.</s>“‘Thereisoneotherdetail,’saidhe. ‘Whatdoyou intendtodoaboutMawson’s?’ “IhadforgottenallaboutMawson’sinmyjoy. ‘I’ll writeandresign,’saidI.</s>“‘PreciselywhatIdon’twantyoutodo. Ihada row over you with Mawson’s manager. I had goneuptoaskhimaboutyou,andhewasveryoffensive; accusedmeofcoaxingyouawayfromtheserviceof thefirm,andthatsortofthing. AtlastIfairlylostmy temper. “Ifyouwantgoodmenyoushouldpaythem agoodprice,”saidI.</s>“‘“He would rather have our small price than yourbigone,”saidhe.</s>“‘“I’lllayyouafiver,”saidI,“thatwhenhehas my offer you’ll never so much as hear from him again.” “‘“Done!” said he. “We picked him out of the gutter, andhe won’t leave usso easily.” Those were hisverywords.’ “‘Theimpudentscoundrel!’ Icried. ‘I’veneverso muchasseenhiminmylife. WhyshouldIconsider him in any way? I shall certainly not write if you wouldratherIdidn’t.’ “‘Good! That’sapromise,’saidhe,risingfromhis chair. ‘Well,I’mdelightedtohavegotsogoodaman for my brother. Here’s your advance of a hundred pounds, and here is the letter. Make a note of the address,126bCorporationStreet,andrememberthat one o’clock to-morrow is your appointment. Good- night; and may you have all the fortune that you deserve!’ “That’s just about all that passed between us, as nearasIcanremember. Youcanimagine,Dr.Watson, how pleased I was at such an extraordinary bit of goodfortune. Isatuphalfthenighthuggingmyself over it, and next day I was off to Birmingham in a train that would take me in plenty time for my ap- pointment. ItookmythingstoahotelinNewStreet, and then I made my way to the address which had beengivenme.</s>“Itwasaquarterofanhourbeforemytime,but I thought that would make no difference. 126b was a passage between two large shops, which led to a windingstonestair,fromwhichthereweremanyflats, letasofficestocompaniesorprofessionalmen. The namesoftheoccupantswerepaintedatthebottomon thewall,buttherewasnosuchnameastheFranco- MidlandHardwareCompany,Limited. Istoodfora fewminuteswithmyheartinmyboots,wondering whether the whole thing was an elaborate hoax or not,whenupcameamanandaddressedme. Hewas very like the chap I had seen the night before, the samefigureandvoice,buthewascleanshavenand hishairwaslighter.</s>“‘AreyouMr.HallPycroft?’ heasked.</s>“‘Yes,’saidI.</s>“‘Oh! I was expecting you, but you are a trifle beforeyourtime. Ihadanotefrommybrotherthis morninginwhichhesangyourpraisesveryloudly.’ “‘I was just looking for the offices when you came.’ “‘We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured these temporary premises last week. Come upwithme,andwewilltalkthematterover.’ “Ifollowedhimtothetopofaveryloftystair,and there,rightundertheslates,wereacoupleofempty, dustylittlerooms,uncarpetedanduncurtained,into which he led me. I had thought of a great office withshiningtablesandrowsofclerks,suchasIwas usedto,andIdaresayIstaredratherstraightatthe two deal chairs and one little table, which, with a ledgerandawastepaperbasket,madeupthewhole furniture.</s>“‘Don’t be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft,’ said my new acquaintance, seeing the length of my face.</s>‘Rome was not built in a day, and we have lots of moneyatourbacks,thoughwedon’tcutmuchdash yet in offices. Pray sit down, and let me have your letter.’ “I gave it to him, and her read it over very care- fully.</s>“‘Youseemtohavemadeavastimpressionupon my brother Arthur,’ said he; ‘and I know that he is a pretty shrewd judge. He swears by London, you know; and I by Birmingham; but this time I shall follow his advice. Pray consider yourself definitely engaged.’ “‘Whataremyduties?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Youwilleventuallymanagethegreatdepotin Paris, which will pour a flood of English crockery intotheshopsofahundredandthirty-fouragentsin France. The purchase will be completed in a week, andmeanwhileyouwillremaininBirminghamand makeyourselfuseful.’ “‘How?’ “For answer, he took a big red book out of a drawer.</s>“‘This is a directory of Paris,’ said he, ‘with the trades after the names of the people. I want you to take it home with you, and to mark off all the hard- waresellers,withtheiraddresses. Itwouldbeofthe greatestusetometohavethem.’ “‘Surelythereareclassifiedlists?’ Isuggested.</s>“‘Notreliableones. Theirsystemisdifferentfrom ours. Stickatit,andletmehavethelistsbyMonday, attwelve. Good-day,Mr.Pycroft. Ifyoucontinuetoshowzealandintelligenceyouwillfindthecompany agoodmaster.’ “I went back to the hotel with the big book un- dermyarm,andwithveryconflictingfeelingsinmy breast. Ontheonehand,Iwasdefinitelyengagedand hadahundredpoundsinmypocket;ontheother,the look of the offices, the absence of name on the wall, andotherofthepointswhichwouldstrikeabusiness man had left a bad impression as to the position of myemployers. However,comewhatmight,Ihadmy money,soIsettleddowntomytask. AllSundayIwas kepthardatwork,andyetbyMondayIhadonlygot asfarasH.Iwentroundtomyemployer,foundhim in the same dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it until Wednesday, and then come again.</s>OnWednesdayitwasstillunfinished,soIhammered awayuntilFriday—thatis,yesterday. ThenIbrought itroundtoMr.HarryPinner.</s>“‘Thank you very much,’ said he; ‘I fear that I underratedthedifficultyofthetask. Thislistwillbe ofverymaterialassistancetome.’ “‘Ittooksometime,’saidI.</s>“‘Andnow,’saidhe,‘Iwantyoutomakealistof thefurnitureshops,fortheyallsellcrockery.’ “‘Verygood.’ “‘And you can come up to-morrow evening, at seven,andletmeknowhowyouaregettingon. Don’t overworkyourself. AcoupleofhoursatDay’sMusic Hallintheeveningwoulddoyounoharmafteryour labors.’ He laughed as he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon the left-hand side hadbeenverybadlystuffedwithgold.” Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, andIstaredwithastonishmentatourclient.</s>“Youmaywelllooksurprised,Dr.Watson;butit is this way,” said he: “When I was speaking to the otherchapinLondon,atthetimethathelaughedat mynotgoingtoMawson’s,Ihappenedtonoticethat his tooth was stuffed in this very identical fashion.</s>Theglintofthegoldineachcasecaughtmyeye,you see. WhenIputthatwiththevoiceandfigurebeing thesame,andonlythosethingsalteredwhichmight be changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt thatitwasthesameman. Ofcourseyouexpecttwo brotherstobealike,butnotthattheyshouldhavethe same tooth stuffed in the same way. He bowed me out,andIfoundmyselfinthestreet,hardlyknowing whetherIwasonmyheadormyheels. BackIwent to my hotel, put my head in a basin of cold water, and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me from LondontoBirmingham? Whyhadhegottherebefore me? And why had he written a letter from himself to himself? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was dark to me might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I had just time to get uptotownbythenighttraintoseehimthismorning, andtobringyoubothbackwithmetoBirmingham.” There was a pause after the stock-broker’s clerk hadconcludedhissurprisingexperience. ThenSher- lock Holmes cocked his eye at me, leaning back on thecushionswithapleasedandyetcriticalface,likea connoisseurwhohasjusttakenhisfirstsipofacomet vintage.</s>“Rather fine, Watson, is it not?” said he. “There are points in it which please me. I think that you willagreewithmethataninterviewwithMr.Arthur HarryPinnerinthetemporaryofficesoftheFranco- Midland Hardware Company, Limited, would be a ratherinterestingexperienceforbothofus.” “Buthowcanwedoit?”Iasked.</s>“Oh, easily enough,” said Hall Pycroft, cheerily.</s>“Youaretwofriendsofminewhoareinwantofabil- let,andwhatcouldbemorenaturalthanthatIshould bringyoubothroundtothemanagingdirector?” “Quiteso,ofcourse,”saidHolmes. “Ishouldlike tohavealookatthegentleman,andseeifIcanmake anythingofhislittlegame. Whatqualitieshaveyou, myfriend,whichwouldmakeyourservicessovalu- able? Or is it possible that—” He began biting his nailsandstaringblanklyoutofthewindow,andwe hardlydrewanotherwordfromhimuntilwewerein NewStreet.</s>At seven o’clock that evening we were walking, thethreeofus,downCorporationStreettothecom- pany’soffices.</s>“Itisnouseourbeingatallbeforeourtime,”said our client. “He only comes there to see me, appar- ently,fortheplaceisdeserteduptotheveryhourhe names.” “Thatissuggestive,”remarkedHolmes.</s>“By Jove, I told you so!” cried the clerk. “That’s hewalkingaheadofusthere.” Hepointedtoasmallish,dark,well-dressedman who was bustling along the other side of the road.</s>As we watched him he looked across at a boy who wasbawlingoutthelatesteditionoftheeveningpa- per,andrunningoveramongthecabsandbusses,he boughtonefromhim. Then,clutchingitinhishand, hevanishedthroughadoor-way.“There he goes!” cried Hall Pycroft. “These are thecompany’sofficesintowhichhehasgone. Come withme,andI’llfixitupaseasilyaspossible.” Followinghislead,weascendedfivestories,until we found ourselves outside a half-opened door, at whichourclienttapped. Avoicewithinbadeusenter, and we entered a bare, unfurnished room such as Hall Pycroft had described. At the single table sat the man whom we had seen in the street, with his eveningpaperspreadoutinfrontofhim,andashe looked up at us it seemed to me that I had never looked upon a face which bore such marks of grief, andofsomethingbeyondgrief—ofahorrorsuchas comes to few men in a lifetime. His brow glistened with perspiration, his cheeks were of the dull, dead white of a fish’s belly, and his eyes were wild and staring. Helookedathisclerkasthoughhefailedto recognize him, and I could see by the astonishment depicteduponourconductor’sfacethatthiswasby nomeanstheusualappearanceofhisemployer.</s>“Youlookill,Mr.Pinner!”heexclaimed.</s>“Yes, I am not very well,” answered the other, makingobviouseffortstopullhimselftogether,and lickinghisdrylipsbeforehespoke. “Whoarethese gentlemenwhomyouhavebroughtwithyou?” “OneisMr.Harris,ofBermondsey,andtheother isMr.Price,ofthistown,”saidourclerk,glibly. “They arefriendsofmineandgentlemenofexperience,but theyhavebeenoutofaplaceforsomelittletime,and theyhopedthatperhapsyoumightfindanopening fortheminthecompany’semployment.” “Verypossibly! Verypossibly!”criedMr.Pinner with a ghastly smile. “Yes, I have no doubt that we shallbeabletodosomethingforyou. Whatisyour particularline,Mr.Harris?” “Iamanaccountant,”saidHolmes.</s>“Ahyes,weshallwantsomethingofthesort. And you,Mr.Price?” “Aclerk,”saidI.</s>“Ihaveeveryhopethatthecompanymayaccom- modate you. I will let you know about it as soon as wecometoanyconclusion. AndnowIbegthatyou willgo. ForGod’ssakeleavemetomyself!” Theselastwordswereshotoutofhim,asthough the constraint which he was evidently setting upon himself had suddenly and utterly burst asunder.</s>HolmesandIglancedateachother,andHallPycroft tookasteptowardsthetable.</s>“Youforget,Mr.Pinner,thatIamherebyappoint- menttoreceivesomedirectionsfromyou,”saidhe.</s>“Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly,” the other re- sumed in a calmer tone. “You may wait here a mo- ment;andthereisnoreasonwhyyourfriendsshould notwaitwithyou. Iwillbeentirelyatyourservicein threeminutes,ifImighttrespassuponyourpatience sofar.”Herosewithaverycourteousair,and,bow- ingtous,hepassedoutthroughadooratthefarther endoftheroom,whichheclosedbehindhim.</s>“Whatnow?”whisperedHolmes. “Ishegivingus theslip?” “Impossible,”answeredPycroft.</s>“Whyso?” “Thatdoorleadsintoaninnerroom.” “Thereisnoexit?” “None.” “Isitfurnished?” “Itwasemptyyesterday.” “Then what on earth can he be doing? There is something which I don’t understand in his manner.</s>If ever a man was three parts mad with terror, that man’snameisPinner. Whatcanhaveputtheshivers onhim?” “Hesuspectsthatwearedetectives,”Isuggested.</s>“That’sit,”criedPycroft.</s>Holmes shook his head. “He did not turn pale.</s>Hewaspalewhenweenteredtheroom,”saidhe. “It isjustpossiblethat—” Hiswordswereinterruptedbyasharprat-tatfrom thedirectionoftheinnerdoor.</s>“Whatthedeuceisheknockingathisowndoor for?”criedtheclerk.</s>Again and much louder cam the rat-tat-tat. We all gazed expectantly at the closed door. Glancing at Holmes, I saw his face turn rigid, and he leaned forwardinintenseexcitement. Thensuddenlycamea lowguggling,garglingsound,andabriskdrumming upon woodwork. Holmes sprang frantically across the room and pushed at the door. It was fastened on the inner side. Following his example, we threw ourselves upon it with all our weight. One hinge snapped, then the other, and down came the door withacrash. Rushingoverit,wefoundourselvesin theinnerroom. Itwasempty.</s>Butitwasonlyforamomentthatwewereatfault.</s>Atonecorner,thecornernearesttheroomwhichwe had left, there was a second door. Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open. A coat and waistcoat were lyingonthefloor,andfromahookbehindthedoor, withhisownbracesroundhisneck,washangingthe managingdirectoroftheFranco-MidlandHardwareCompany. Hiskneesweredrawnup,hisheadhung at a dreadful angle to his body, and the clatter of hisheelsagainstthedoormadethenoisewhichhad brokeninuponourconversation. InaninstantIhad caughthimroundthewaist,andheldhimupwhile Holmes and Pycroft untied the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid creases of skin.</s>Then we carried him into the other room, where he laywithaclay-coloredface,puffinghispurplelipsin and out with every breath—a dreadful wreck of all thathehadbeenbutfiveminutesbefore.</s>“What do you think of him, Watson?” asked Holmes.</s>Istoopedoverhimandexaminedhim. Hispulse was feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer,andtherewasalittleshiveringofhiseyelids, whichshowedathinwhiteslitofballbeneath.</s>“Ithasbeentouchandgowithhim,”saidI,“but he’lllivenow. Justopenthatwindow,andhandme thewatercarafe.”Iundidhiscollar,pouredthecold wateroverhisface,andraisedandsankhisarmsuntil hedrewalong,naturalbreath. “It’sonlyaquestion oftimenow,”saidI,asIturnedawayfromhim.</s>Holmesstoodbythetable,withhishandsdeepin histrouser’spocketsandhischinuponhisbreast.</s>“I suppose we ought to call the police in now,” saidhe. “AndyetIconfessthatI’dliketogivethem acompletecasewhentheycome.” “It’s a blessed mystery to me,” cried Pycroft, scratchinghishead. “Whatevertheywantedtobring meallthewayupherefor,andthen—” “Pooh! All that is clear enough,” said Holmes impatiently. “Itisthislastsuddenmove.” “Youunderstandtherest,then?” “Ithinkthatitisfairlyobvious. Whatdoyousay, Watson?” I shrugged my shoulders. “I must confess that I amoutofmydepths,”saidI.</s>“Ohsurelyifyouconsidertheeventsatfirstthey canonlypointtooneconclusion.” “Whatdoyoumakeofthem?” “Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points.</s>ThefirstisthemakingofPycroftwriteadeclaration bywhichheenteredtheserviceofthispreposterous company. Do you not see how very suggestive that is?” “IamafraidImissthepoint.” “Well,whydidtheywanthimtodoit? Notasa business matter, for these arrangements are usually verbal,andtherewasnoearthlybusinessreasonwhy thisshouldbeanexception. Don’tyousee,myyoung friend,thattheywereveryanxioustoobtainaspeci- men of your handwriting, and had no other way of doingit?” “Andwhy?” “Quite so. Why? When we answer that we have made some progress with our little problem. Why? There can be only one adequate reason. Someone wanted to learn to imitate your writing, and had to procure a specimen of it first. And now if we pass ontothesecondpointwefindthateachthrowslight upon the other. That point is the request made by Pinner that you should not resign your place, but shouldleavethemanagerofthisimportantbusiness inthefullexpectationthataMr.HallPycroft,whom hehadneverseen,wasabouttoentertheofficeupon theMondaymorning.” “MyGod!”criedourclient,“whatablindbeetleI havebeen!” “Now you see the point about the handwriting.</s>Supposethatsomeoneturnedupinyourplacewho wroteacompletelydifferenthandfromthatinwhich youhadappliedforthevacancy,ofcoursethegame wouldhavebeenup. Butintheintervaltheroguehad learnedtoimitateyou,andhispositionwastherefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the office had everseteyesuponyou.” “Notasoul,”groanedHallPycroft.</s>“Very good. Of course it was of the utmost im- portance to prevent you from thinking better of it, andalsotokeepyoufromcomingintocontactwith anyonewhomighttellyouthatyourdoublewasat workinMawson’soffice. Thereforetheygaveyoua handsome advance on your salary, and ran you off totheMidlands,wheretheygaveyouenoughwork to do to prevent your going to London, where you mighthavebursttheirlittlegameup. Thatisallplain enough.” “Butwhyshouldthismanpretendtobehisown brother?” “Well,thatisprettyclearalso. Thereareevidently onlytwooftheminit. Theotherisimpersonatingyou attheoffice. Thisoneactedasyourengager,andthen foundthathecouldnotfindyouanemployerwithout admitting a third person into his plot. That he was mostunwillingtodo. Hechangedhisappearanceas farashecould,andtrustedthatthelikeness,which youcouldnotfailtoobserve,wouldbeputdowntoa familyresemblance. Butforthehappychanceofthe goldstuffing,yoursuspicionswouldprobablynever havebeenaroused.”Hall Pycroft shook his clinched hands in the air.</s>“GoodLord!”hecried,“whileIhavebeenfooledin thisway,whathasthisotherHallPycroftbeendoing atMawson’s? Whatshouldwedo,Mr.Holmes? Tell mewhattodo.” “WemustwiretoMawson’s.” “TheyshutattwelveonSaturdays.” “Nevermind. Theremaybesomedoor-keeperor attendant—” “Ah yes, they keep a permanent guard there on accountofthevalueofthesecuritiesthattheyhold. I rememberhearingittalkedofintheCity.” “Very good; we shall wire to him, and see if all iswell,andifaclerkofyournameisworkingthere.</s>Thatisclearenough;butwhatisnotsocleariswhy atsightofusoneoftheroguesshouldinstantlywalk outoftheroomandhanghimself.” “Thepaper!”croakedavoicebehindus. Theman wassittingup,blanchedandghastly,withreturning reasoninhiseyes,andhandswhichrubbednervously atthebroadredbandwhichstillencircledhisthroat.</s>“Thepaper! Ofcourse!”yelledHolmes,inaparox- ysm of excitement. “Idiot that I was! I thought so must of our visit that the paper never entered my head for an instant. To be sure, the secret must be there.”Heflatteneditoutuponthetable,andacryof triumphburstfromhislips. “Lookatthis,Watson,” he cried. “It is a London paper, an early edition of theEveningStandard. Hereiswhatwewant. Lookat theheadlines: ‘CrimeintheCity. MurderatMawson &Williams’s. GiganticattemptedRobbery. Capture of the Criminal.’ Here, Watson, we are all equally anxioustohearit,sokindlyreaditaloudtous.” Itappearedfromitspositioninthepapertohave been the one event of importance in town, and the accountofitraninthisway: “A desperate attempt at robbery, culminat- ing in the death of one man and the cap- ture of the criminal, occurred this afternoon in the City. For some time back Mawson & Williams, the famous financial house, have beentheguardiansofsecuritieswhichamount intheaggregatetoasumofconsiderablyover amillionsterling. Soconsciouswastheman- ageroftheresponsibilitywhichdevolvedupon him in consequence of the great interests at stakethatsafesoftheverylatestconstruction havebeenemployed,andanarmedwatchman hasbeenleftdayandnightinthebuilding. It appearsthatlastweekanewclerknamedHall Pycroftwasengagedbythefirm. Thisperson appearstohavebeennoneotherthatBedding- ton, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with his brother, had only recently emerged from a five years’ spell of penal servitude. By some means, which are not yet clear, he suc- ceeded in winning, under a false name, this officialpositionintheoffice,whichheutilized in order to obtain moulding of various locks, and a thorough knowledge of the position of thestrongroomandthesafes.</s>“ItiscustomaryatMawson’sfortheclerksto leaveatmiddayonSaturday. SergeantTuson, of the City Police, was somewhat surprised, therefore to see a gentleman with a carpet bag come down the steps at twenty minutes past one. His suspicions being aroused, the sergeant followed the man, and with the aid of Constable Pollack succeeded, after a most desperate resistance, in arresting him. It was at once clear that a daring and gigantic rob- bery had been committed. Nearly a hundred thousandpounds’worthofAmericanrailway bonds, with a large amount of scrip in mines and other companies, was discovered in the bag. On examining the premises the body oftheunfortunatewatchmanwasfounddou- bledupandthrustintothelargestofthesafes, where it would not have been discovered un- til Monday morning had it not been for the prompt action of Sergeant Tuson. The man’s skull had been shattered by a blow from a poker delivered from behind. There could be no doubt that Beddington had obtained en- trance by pretending that he had left some- thing behind him, and having murdered the watchman, rapidly rifled the large safe, and thenmadeoffwithhisbooty. Hisbrother,who usually works with him, has not appeared in thisjobasfarascanatpresentbeascertained, although the police are making energetic in- quiriesastohiswhereabouts.” “Well, we may save the police some little trouble in thatdirection,”saidHolmes,glancingatthehaggard figure huddled up by the window. “Human nature is a strange mixture, Watson. You see that even a villain and murderer can inspire such affection that his brother turns to suicide when he learns that his neck is forfeited. However, we have no choice as to our action. The doctor and I will remain on guard, Mr.Pycroft,ifyouwillhavethekindnesstostepout forthepolice.”have some papers here,” said my friend Sherlock Holmes, as we sat one winter’s night on either side of the fire, “which I I reallythink,Watson,thatitwouldbeworth yourwhiletoglanceover. Thesearethedocumentsin theextraordinarycaseoftheGloriaScott,andthisis themessagewhichstruckJusticeofthePeaceTrevor deadwithhorrorwhenhereadit.” He had picked from a drawer a little tarnished cylinder,and,undoingthetape,hehandedmeashort notescrawleduponahalf-sheetofslategray-paper.</s>“ThesupplyofgameforLondonisgoingsteadily up,” it ran. “Head-keeper Hudson, we believe, has beennowtoldtoreceiveallordersforfly-paperand forpreservationofyourhen-pheasant’slife.” As I glanced up from reading this enigmatical message, I saw Holmes chuckling at the expression uponmyface.</s>“Youlookalittlebewildered,”saidhe.</s>“I cannot see how such a message as this could inspirehorror. Itseemstometoberathergrotesque thanotherwise.” “Verylikely. Yetthefactremainsthatthereader, whowasafine,robustoldman, wasknockedclean downbyitasifithadbeenthebuttendofapistol.” “You arouse my curiosity,” said I. “But why did yousayjustnowthattherewereveryparticularrea- sonswhyIshouldstudythiscase?” “Because it was the first in which I was ever en- gaged.” Ihadoftenendeavoredtoelicitfrommycompan- ionwhathadfirstturnedhismindinthedirectionof criminal research, but had never caught him before in a communicative humor. Now he sat forward in his arm-chair and spread out the documents upon hisknees. Thenhelithispipeandsatforsometime smokingandturningthemover.</s>“You never heard me talk of Victor Trevor?” he asked. “He was the only friend I made during the twoyearsIwasatcollege. Iwasneveraverysociable fellow,Watson,alwaysratherfondofmopinginmy rooms and working out my own little methods of thought,sothatInevermixedmuchwiththemenof my year. Bar fencing and boxing I had few athletic tastes, and then my line of study was quite distinct from that of the other fellows, so that we had no points of contact at all. Trevor was the only man I knew,andthatonlythroughtheaccidentofhisbull terrierfreezingontomyankleonemorningasIwent downtochapel.</s>“Itwasaprosaicwayofformingafriendship,but it was effective. I was laid by the heels for ten days, but Trevor used to come in to inquire after me. At first it was only a minute’s chat, but soon his visits lengthened,andbeforetheendofthetermwewere close friends. He was a hearty, full-blooded fellow, fullofspiritsandenergy,theveryoppositetomein mostrespects,butwehadsomesubjectsincommon, and it was a bond of union when I found that he was as friendless as I. Finally, he invited me down tohisfather’splaceatDonnithorpe,inNorfolk,and I accepted his hospitality for a month of the long vacation.</s>“OldTrevorwasevidentlyamanofsomewealth and consideration, a J.P., and a landed proprietor.</s>Donnithorpe is a little hamlet just to the north of Langmere, in the country of the Broads. The house wasanold-fashioned,wide-spread,oak-beamedbrick building,withafinelime-linedavenueleadingupto it. Therewasexcellentwild-duckshootinginthefens, remarkably good fishing, a small but select library, takenover,asIunderstood,fromaformeroccupant, andatolerablecook,sothathewouldbeafastidious manwhocouldnotputinapleasantmonththere.</s>“Trevorseniorwasawidower,andmyfriendhis onlyson.</s>“Therehadbeenadaughter,Iheard,butshehad died of diphtheria while on a visit to Birmingham.</s>The father interested me extremely. He was a man of little culture, but with a considerable amount of rudestrength,bothphysicallyandmentally. Heknew hardly any books, but he had traveled far, had seen muchoftheworld. Andhadrememberedallthathe hadlearned. Inpersonhewasathick-set,burlyman withashockofgrizzledhair,abrown,weather-beaten face, and blue eyes which were keen to the verge of fierceness. Yethehadareputationforkindnessand charity on the country-side, and was noted for the leniencyofhissentencesfromthebench.</s>“One evening, shortly after my arrival, we were sittingoveraglassofportafterdinner,whenyoung Trevor began to talk about those habits of observa- tionandinferencewhichIhadalreadyformedintoa system, although I had not yet appreciated the part which they were to play in my life. The old man evidently thought that his son was exaggerating in hisdescriptionofoneortwotrivialfeatswhichIhad performed.</s>“‘Come, now, Mr. Holmes,’ said he, laughing good-humoredly. ‘I’m an excellent subject, if you candeduceanythingfromme.’“‘I fear there is not very much,’ I answered; ‘I might suggest that you have gone about in fear of somepersonalattackwithinthelasttwelvemonths.’ “The laugh faded from his lips, and he stared at meingreatsurprise.</s>“‘Well, that’s true enough,’ said he. ‘You know, Victor,’ turning to his son, ‘when we broke up that poachinggangtheysworetoknifeus,andSirEdward Hollyhasactuallybeenattacked. I’vealwaysbeenon myguardsincethen,thoughIhavenoideahowyou knowit.’ “‘You have a very handsome stick,’ I answered.</s>‘BytheinscriptionIobservedthatyouhadnothadit morethanayear. Butyouhavetakensomepainsto boretheheadofitandpourmeltedleadintothehole soastomakeitaformidableweapon. Iarguedthat youwouldnottakesuchprecautionsunlessyouhad somedangertofear.’ “‘Anythingelse?’ heasked,smiling.</s>“‘Youhaveboxedagooddealinyouryouth.’ “‘Rightagain. Howdidyouknowit? Ismynose knockedalittleoutofthestraight?’ “‘No,’saidI.‘Itisyourears. Theyhavethepecu- liarflatteningandthickeningwhichmarkstheboxing man.’ “‘Anythingelse?’ “‘Youhavedoneagooddealofdiggingbyyour callosities.’ “‘Madeallmymoneyatthegoldfields.’ “‘YouhavebeeninNewZealand.’ “‘Rightagain.’ “‘YouhavevisitedJapan.’ “‘Quitetrue.’ “‘Andyouhavebeenmostintimatelyassociated with some one whose initials were J. A., and whom youafterwardswereeagertoentirelyforget.’ “Mr.Trevorstoodslowlyup,fixedhislargeblue eyes upon me with a strange wild stare, and then pitched forward, with his face among the nutshells whichstrewedthecloth,inadeadfaint.</s>“Youcanimagine,Watson,howshockedbothhis sonandIwere. Hisattackdidnotlastlong,however, forwhenweundidhiscollar,andsprinkledthewater fromoneofthefinger-glassesoverhisface,hegavea gasportwoandsatup.</s>“‘Ah, boys,’ said he, forcing a smile, ‘I hope I haven’t frightened you. Strong as I look, there is a weakplaceinmyheart,anditdoesnottakemuchto knock me over. I don’t know how you manage this, Mr.Holmes,butitseemstomethatallthedetectives offactandoffancywouldbechildreninyourhands.</s>That’syourlineoflife,sir,andyoumaytaketheword ofamanwhohasseensomethingoftheworld.’ “Andthatrecommendation,withtheexaggerated estimateofmyabilitywithwhichheprefacedit,was, if you will believe me, Watson, the very first thing whichevermademefeelthataprofessionmightbe madeoutofwhathaduptothattimebeenthemer- esthobby. Atthemoment,however,Iwastoomuch concerned at the sudden illness of my host to think ofanythingelse.</s>“‘I hope that I have said nothing to pain you?’ saidI.</s>“‘Well,youcertainlytoucheduponratheratender point. MightIaskhowyouknow,andhowmuchyou know?’ Hespokenowinahalf-jestingfashion,buta lookofterrorstilllurkedatthebackofhiseyes.</s>“‘It is simplicity itself,’ said I. ‘When you bared yourarmtodrawthatfishintotheboatIsawthatJ.</s>A. had been tattooed in the bend of the elbow. The letterswerestilllegible,butitwasperfectlyclearfrom theirblurredappearance,andfromthestainingofthe skinroundthem,thateffortshadbeenmadetooblit- erate them. It was obvious, then, that those initials hadoncebeenveryfamiliartoyou,andthatyouhad afterwardswishedtoforgetthem.’ “‘Whataneyeyouhave!’ hecried,withasighof relief. ‘Itisjustasyousay. Butwewon’ttalkofit. Of all ghosts the ghosts of our old lovers are the worst.</s>Comeintothebilliard-roomandhaveaquietcigar.’ “Fromthatday,amidallhiscordiality,therewas always a touch of suspicion in Mr. Trevor’s manner towardsme. Evenhissonremarkedit. ‘You’vegiven the governor such a turn,’ said he, ‘that he’ll never besureagainofwhatyouknowandwhatyoudon’t know.’ He did not mean to show it, I am sure, but it was so strongly in his mind that it peeped out at every action. At last I became so convinced that I was causing him uneasiness that I drew my visit to a close. On the very day, however, before I left, an incidentoccurredwhichprovedinthesequeltobeof importance.</s>“We were sitting out upon the lawn on garden chairs,thethreeofus,baskinginthesunandadmir- ingtheviewacrosstheBroads,whenamaidcameout tosaythattherewasamanatthedoorwhowanted toseeMr.Trevor.</s>“‘Whatishisname?’ askedmyhost.</s>“‘Hewouldnotgiveany.’ “‘Whatdoeshewant,then?’“‘He says that you know him, and that he only wantsamoment’sconversation.’ “‘Show him round here.’ An instant afterwards thereappearedalittlewizenedfellowwithacringing mannerandashamblingstyleofwalking. Heworean openjacket,withasplotchoftaronthesleeve,ared- and-blackcheckshirt,dungareetrousers,andheavy bootsbadlyworn. Hisfacewasthinandbrownand crafty,withaperpetualsmileuponit,whichshowed an irregular line of yellow teeth, and his crinkled hands were half closed in a way that is distinctive of sailors. As he came slouching across the lawn I heardMr.Trevormakeasortofhiccoughingnoisein his throat, and jumping out of his chair, he ran into the house. He was back in a moment, and I smelt a strongreekofbrandyashepassedme.</s>“‘Well,myman,’saidhe. ‘WhatcanIdoforyou?’ “The sailor stood looking at him with puckered eyes,andwiththesameloose-lippedsmileuponhis face.</s>“‘Youdon’tknowme?’ heasked.</s>“‘Why, dear me, it is surely Hudson,’ said Mr.</s>Trevorinatoneofsurprise.</s>“‘Hudson it is, sir,’ said the seaman. ‘Why, it’s thirty year and more since I saw you last. Here you areinyourhouse,andmestillpickingmysaltmeat outoftheharnesscask.’ “‘Tut,youwillfindthatIhavenotforgottenold times,’ cried Mr. Trevor, and, walking towards the sailor,hesaidsomethinginalowvoice. ‘Gointothe kitchen,’ he continued out loud, ‘and you will get foodanddrink. IhavenodoubtthatIshallfindyou asituation.’ “‘Thank you, sir,’ said the seaman, touching his fore-lock. ‘I’m just off a two-yearer in an eight-knot tramp, short-handed at that, and I wants a rest. I thought I’d get it either with Mr. Beddoes or with you.’ “‘Ah!’ cried Trevor. ‘You know where Mr. Bed- doesis?’ “‘Blessyou,sir,Iknowwhereallmyoldfriends are,’ said the fellow with a sinister smile, and he slouchedoffafterthemaidtothekitchen. Mr.Trevor mumbled something to us about having been ship- mate with the man when he was going back to the diggings,andthen,leavingusonthelawn,hewent indoors. An hour later, when we entered the house, wefoundhimstretcheddeaddrunkuponthedining- room sofa. The whole incident left a most ugly im- pressionuponmymind,andIwasnotsorrynextday to leave Donnithorpe behind me, for I felt that my presence must be a source of embarrassment to my friend.</s>“All this occurred during the first month of the longvacation. IwentuptomyLondonrooms,where Ispentsevenweeksworkingoutafewexperiments inorganicchemistry. Oneday,however,whentheau- tumnwasfaradvancedandthevacationdrawingtoa close,Ireceivedatelegramfrommyfriendimploring metoreturntoDonnithorpe,andsayingthathewas ingreatneedofmyadviceandassistance. Ofcourse IdroppedeverythingandsetoutfortheNorthonce more.</s>“Hemetmewiththedog-cartatthestation,and I saw at a glance that the last two months had been very trying ones for him. He had grown thin and careworn,andhadlosttheloud,cheerymannerfor whichhehadbeenremarkable.</s>“‘Thegovernorisdying,’werethefirstwordshe said.</s>“‘Impossible!’ Icried. ‘Whatisthematter?’ “‘Apoplexy. Nervous shock, He’s been on the vergeallday. Idoubtifweshallfindhimalive.’ “Iwas,asyoumaythink,Watson,horrifiedatthis unexpectednews.</s>“‘Whathascausedit?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Ah,thatisthepoint. Jumpinandwecantalkit overwhilewedrive. Yourememberthatfellowwho cameupontheeveningbeforeyouleftus?’ “‘Perfectly.’ “‘Do you know who it was that we let into the housethatday?’ “‘Ihavenoidea.’ “‘Itwasthedevil,Holmes,’hecried.</s>“Istaredathiminastonishment.</s>“‘Yes,itwasthedevilhimself. Wehavenothada peacefulhoursince—notone. Thegovernorhasnever helduphisheadfromthatevening,andnowthelife hasbeencrushedoutofhimandhisheartbroken,all throughthisaccursedHudson.’ “‘Whatpowerhadhe,then?’ “‘Ah,thatiswhatIwouldgivesomuchtoknow.</s>Thekindly,charitable,goodoldgovernor—howcould hehavefallenintotheclutchesofsucharuffian! But Iamsogladthatyouhavecome,Holmes. Itrustvery much to your judgment and discretion, and I know thatyouwilladvisemeforthebest.’ “Weweredashingalongthesmoothwhitecoun- tryroad,withthelongstretchoftheBroadsinfront of us glimmering in the red light of the setting sun.From a grove upon our left I could already see the high chimneys and the flag-staff which marked the squire’sdwelling.</s>“‘My father made the fellow gardener,’ said my companion,‘andthen,asthatdidnotsatisfyhim,he waspromotedtobebutler. Thehouseseemedtobe at his mercy, and he wandered about and did what hechoseinit. Themaidscomplainedofhisdrunken habits and his vile language. The dad raised their wages all round to recompense them for the annoy- ance. Thefellowwouldtaketheboatandmyfather’s bestgunandtreathimselftolittleshootingtrips. And allthiswithsuchasneering,leering,insolentfacethat Iwouldhaveknockedhimdowntwentytimesoverif hehadbeenamanofmyownage. Itellyou,Holmes, I have had to keep a tight hold upon myself all this time; and now I am asking myself whether, if I had let myself go a little more, I might not have been a wiserman.</s>“‘Well, matterswentfrombadtoworsewithus, and this animal Hudson became more and more in- trusive, until at last, on making some insolent reply to my father in my presence one day, I took him by the shoulders and turned him out of the room. He slunkawaywithalividfaceandtwovenomouseyes which uttered more threats than his tongue could do. Idon’tknowwhatpassedbetweenthepoordad andhimafterthat,butthedadcametomenextday andaskedmewhetherIwouldmindapologizingto Hudson. Irefused,asyoucanimagine,andaskedmy fatherhowhecouldallowsuchawretchtotakesuch libertieswithhimselfandhishousehold.</s>“‘“Ah,myboy,”saidhe,“itisallverywelltotalk, butyoudon’tknowhowIamplaced. Butyoushall know,Victor. I’llseethatyoushallknow,comewhat may. Youwouldn’tbelieveharmofyourpooroldfa- ther,wouldyou,lad?”Hewasverymuchmoved,and shut himself up in the study all day, where I could seethroughthewindowthathewaswritingbusily.</s>“‘Thateveningtherecamewhatseemedtometo be a grand release, for Hudson told us that he was goingtoleaveus. Hewalkedintothedining-roomas we sat after dinner, and announced his intention in thethickvoiceofahalf-drunkenman.</s>“‘“I’vehadenoughofNorfolk,”saidhe. “I’llrun downtoMr.BeddoesinHampshire. He’llbeasglad toseemeasyouwere,Idaresay.” “‘“You’re not going away in any kind of spirit, Hudson, I hope,” said my father, with a tameness whichmadmybloodboil.</s>“‘“I’venothadmy’pology,”saidhesulkily,glanc- inginmydirection.</s>“‘“Victor, you will acknowledge that you have usedthisworthyfellowratherroughly,”saidthedad, turningtome.</s>“‘“On the contrary, I think that we have both shown extraordinary patience towards him,” I an- swered.</s>“‘“Oh, you do, do you?” he snarls. “Very good, mate. We’llseeaboutthat!” “‘Heslouchedoutoftheroom,andhalfanhour afterwardsleftthehouse,leavingmyfatherinastate ofpitiablenervousness. NightafternightIheardhim pacinghisroom,anditwasjustashewasrecovering hisconfidencethattheblowdidatlastfall.’ “‘Andhow?’ Iaskedeagerly.</s>“‘Inamostextraordinaryfashion. Aletterarrived formyfatheryesterdayevening,bearingtheFording- bridge post-mark. My father read it, clapped both hishandstohishead,andbeganrunningroundthe roominlittlecircleslikeamanwhohasbeendriven outofhissenses. WhenIatlastdrewhimdownonto thesofa,hismouthandeyelidswereallpuckeredon oneside,andIsawthathehadastroke. Dr.Fordham cameoveratonce. Weputhimtobed;buttheparal- ysis has spread, he has shown no sign of returning consciousness, andI thinkthatwe shallhardly find himalive.’ “‘You horrify me, Trevor!’ I cried. ‘What then could have been in this letter to cause so dreadful a result?’ “‘Nothing. There lies the inexplicable part of it.</s>Themessagewasabsurdandtrivial. Ah,myGod,it isasIfeared!’ “Ashespokewecameroundthecurveoftheav- enue,andsawinthefadinglightthateveryblindin thehousehadbeendrawndown. Aswedashedup tothedoor,myfriend’sfaceconvulsedwithgrief,a gentlemaninblackemergedfromit.</s>“‘Whendidithappen,doctor?’ askedTrevor.</s>“‘Almostimmediatelyafteryouleft.’ “‘Didherecoverconsciousness?’ “‘Foraninstantbeforetheend.’ “‘Anymessageforme?’ “‘Onlythatthepaperswereinthebackdrawerof theJapanesecabinet.’ “Myfriendascendedwiththedoctortothecham- berofdeath, whileIremainedinthestudy, turning thewholematteroverandoverinmyhead,andfeel- ing as sombre as ever I had done in my life. WhatwasthepastofthisTrevor,pugilist,traveler,andgold- digger,andhowhadheplacedhimselfinthepower ofthisacid-facedseaman? Why,too,shouldhefaint atanallusiontothehalf-effacedinitialsuponhisarm, anddieoffrightwhenhehadaletterfromFording- ham? Then I remembered that Fordingham was in Hampshire,andthatthisMr.Beddoes,whomthesea- manhadgonetovisitandpresumablytoblackmail, hadalsobeenmentionedaslivinginHampshire. The letter,then,mighteithercomefromHudson,thesea- man, saying that he had betrayed the guilty secret whichappearedtoexist,oritmightcomefromBed- does,warninganoldconfederatethatsuchabetrayal was imminent. So far it seemed clear enough. But thenhowcouldthisletterbetrivialandgrotesque,as described by the son? He must have misread it. If so, it must have been one of those ingenious secret codeswhichmeanonethingwhiletheyseemtomean another. Imustseethisletter. Iftherewereahidden meaning in it, I was confident that I could pluck it forth. ForanhourIsatponderingoveritinthegloom, untilatlastaweepingmaidbroughtinalamp,and close at her heels came my friend Trevor, pale but composed,withtheseverypaperswhichlieuponmy kneeheldinhisgrasp. Hesatdownoppositetome, drewthelamptotheedgeofthetable,andhanded me a short note scribbled, as you see, upon a single sheetofgraypaper. ‘ThesupplyofgameforLondon is going steadily up,’ it ran. ‘Head-keeper Hudson, webelieve,hasbeennowtoldtoreceiveallordersfor fly-paperandforpreservationofyourhen-pheasant’s life.’ “Idaresaymyfacelookedasbewilderedasyours did just now when first I read this message. Then I reread it very carefully. It was evidently as I had thought,andsomesecretmeaningmustlieburiedin thisstrangecombinationofwords. Orcoulditbethat therewasaprearrangedsignificancetosuchphrases as ‘fly-paper’ and ‘hen-pheasant’? Such a meaning wouldbearbitraryandcouldnotbededucedinany way. AndyetIwasloathtobelievethatthiswasthe case, and the presence of the word Hudson seemed toshowthatthesubjectofthemessagewasasIhad guessed,andthatitwasfromBeddoesratherthanthe sailor. Itrieditbackwards,butthecombination‘life pheasant’s hen’ was not encouraging. Then I tried alternate words, but neither ‘the of for’ nor ‘supply gameLondon’promisedtothrowanylightuponit.</s>“Andtheninaninstantthekeyoftheriddlewas in my hands, and I saw that every third word, be- ginning with the first, would give a message which mightwelldriveoldTrevortodespair.</s>“Itwasshortandterse,thewarning,asInowread ittomycompanion: “‘The game is up. Hudson has told all. Fly for yourlife.’ “VictorTrevorsankhisfaceintohisshakinghands, ‘It must be that, I suppose,’ said he. “This is worse than death, for it means disgrace as well. But what is the meaning of these “head-keepers” and “hen- pheasants”? “‘It means nothing to the message, but it might meanagooddealtousifwehadnoothermeansof discoveringthesender. Youseethathehasbegunby writing“The... game... is,”andsoon. Afterwards hehad,tofulfilltheprearrangedcipher,tofillinany twowordsineachspace. Hewouldnaturallyusethe firstwordswhichcametohismind,andiftherewere so many which referred to sport among them, you maybetolerablysurethatheiseitheranardentshot orinterestedinbreeding. Doyouknowanythingof thisBeddoes?’ “‘Why, now that you mention it,’ said he, ‘I re- member that my poor father used to have an invi- tation from him to shoot over his preserves every autumn.’ “‘Thenitisundoubtedlyfromhimthatthenote comes,’saidI.‘Itonlyremainsforustofindoutwhat this secret was which the sailor Hudson seems to have held over the heads of these two wealthy and respectedmen.’ “‘Alas, Holmes, I fear that it is one of sin and shame!’ cried my friend. ‘But from you I shall have no secrets. Here is the statement which was drawn upbymyfatherwhenheknewthatthedangerfrom Hudson had become imminent. I found it in the Japanese cabinet, as he told the doctor. Take it and readittome,forIhaveneitherthestrengthnorthe couragetodoitmyself.’ “These are the very papers, Watson, which he handedtome,andIwillreadthemtoyou,asIread them in the old study that night to him. They are endorsed outside, as you see, ‘Some particulars of thevoyageofthebarkGloriaScott,fromherleaving Falmouthonthe8thOctober,1855,toherdestruction in N. Lat. 15◦20’, W. Long. 25◦14’ on Nov. 6th.’ It is intheformofaletter,andrunsinthisway: “‘My dear, dear son, now that approaching dis- gracebeginstodarkentheclosingyearsofmylife,I canwritewithalltruthandhonestythatitisnotthe terror of the law, it is not the loss of my position in thecounty,norisitmyfallintheeyesofallwhohave known me, which cuts me to the heart; but it is the thoughtthatyoushouldcometoblushforme—youwholovemeandwhohaveseldom,Ihope,hadrea- sontodootherthanrespectme. Butiftheblowfalls whichisforeverhangingoverme,thenIshouldwish youtoreadthis,thatyoumayknowstraightfromme howfarIhavebeentoblame. Ontheotherhand,if all should go well (which may kind God Almighty grant!), then if by any chance this paper should be still undestroyed and should fall into your hands, I conjureyou, by allyouholdsacred, bythememory ofyourdearmother,andbythelovewhichhadbeen betweenus,tohurlitintothefireandtonevergive onethoughttoitagain.</s>“‘Ifthenyoureyegoesontoreadthisline,Iknow thatIshallalreadyhavebeenexposedanddragged frommyhome,orasismorelikely,foryouknowthat myheartisweak,bylyingwithmytonguesealedfor- everindeath. Ineithercasethetimeforsuppression ispast,andeverywordwhichItellyouisthenaked truth,andthisIswearasIhopeformercy.</s>“‘My name, dear lad, is not Trevor. I was James Armitage in my younger days, and you can under- stand now the shock that it was to me a few weeks agowhenyourcollegefriendaddressedmeinwords which seemed to imply that he had surprised my secret. As Armitage it was that I entered a London banking-house, and as Armitage I was convicted of breaking my country’s laws, and was sentenced to transportation. Donotthinkveryharshlyofme,lad- die. It was a debt of honor, so called, which I had topay,andIusedmoneywhichwasnotmyownto do it, in the certainty that I could replace it before therecouldbeanypossibilityofitsbeingmissed. But the most dreadful ill-luck pursued me. The money whichIhadreckoneduponnevercametohand,and a premature examination of accounts exposed my deficit. Thecasemighthavebeendealtlenientlywith, butthelawsweremoreharshlyadministeredthirty yearsagothannow,andonmytwenty-thirdbirthday I found myself chained as a felon with thirty-seven otherconvictsin’tween-decksofthebarkGloriaScott, boundforAustralia.</s>“‘Itwastheyear’55whentheCrimeanwarwasat itsheight,andtheoldconvictshipshadbeenlargely usedastransportsintheBlackSea. Thegovernment wascompelled,therefore,tousesmallerandlesssuit- ablevesselsforsendingouttheirprisoners. TheGloria ScotthadbeenintheChinesetea-trade,butshewas anold-fashioned,heavy-bowed,broad-beamedcraft, and the new clippers had cut her out. She was a five-hundred-ton boat; and besides her thirty-eight jail-birds, she carried twenty-six of a crew, eighteen soldiers,acaptain,threemates,adoctor,achaplain, and four warders. Nearly a hundred souls were in her,alltold,whenwesetsailfromFalmouth.</s>“‘Thepartitionsbetweenthecellsoftheconvicts, instead of being of thick oak, as is usual in convict- ships,werequitethinandfrail. Themannexttome, upon the aft side, was one whom I had particularly noticed when we were led down the quay. He was a young man with a clear, hairless face, a long, thin nose, and rather nut-cracker jaws. He carried his headveryjauntilyintheair,hadaswaggeringstyle ofwalking,andwas,aboveallelse,remarkableforhis extraordinaryheight. Idon’tthinkanyofourheads would have come up to his shoulder, and I am sure that he could not have measured less than six and a half feet. It was strange among so many sad and wearyfacestoseeonewhichwasfullofenergyand resolution. The sight of it was to me like a fire in a snow-storm. Iwasglad,then,tofindthathewasmy neighbor,andgladderstillwhen,inthedeadofthe night, I heard a whisper close to my ear, and found thathehadmanagedtocutanopeningintheboard whichseparatedus.</s>“‘“Hullo,chummy!”saidhe,“what’syourname, andwhatareyouherefor?” “‘I answered him, and asked in turn who I was talkingwith.</s>“‘“I’mJackPrendergast,”saidhe,“andbyGod! You’lllearntoblessmynamebeforeyou’vedonewith me.” “‘Irememberedhearingofhiscase,foritwasone which had made an immense sensation throughout the country some time before my own arrest. He wasamanofgoodfamilyandofgreatability,butof incurably vicious habits, who had, by an ingenious systemoffraud,obtainedhugesumsofmoneyfrom theleadingLondonmerchants.</s>“‘“Ha, ha! You remember my case!” said he proudly.</s>“‘“Verywell,indeed.” “‘“Thenmaybeyouremembersomethingqueer aboutit?” “‘“Whatwasthat,then?” “‘“I’d had nearly a quarter of a million, hadn’t I?” “‘“Soitwassaid.” “‘“Butnonewasrecovered,eh?” “‘“No.” “‘“Well,whered’yesupposethebalanceis?”he asked.</s>“‘“Ihavenoidea,”saidI.“‘“Rightbetweenmyfingerandthumb,”hecried.</s>“By God! I’ve got more pounds to my name than you’vehairsonyourhead. Andifyou’vemoney,my son,andknowhowtohandleitandspreadit,youcan doanything. Now,youdon’tthinkitlikelythataman whocoulddoanythingisgoingtowearhisbreeches outsittinginthestinkingholdofarat-gutted,beetle- ridden, mouldy old coffin of a Chin China coaster.</s>No, sir, such a man will look after himself and will lookafterhischums. Youmaylaytothat! Youhold ontohim,andyoumaykissthebookthathe’llhaul youthrough.” “‘Thatwashisstyleoftalk,andatfirstIthoughtit meantnothing;butafterawhile,whenhehadtested meandswornmeinwithallpossiblesolemnity, he letmeunderstandthattherereallywasaplottogain commandofthevessel. Adozenoftheprisonershad hatcheditbeforetheycameaboard,Prendergastwas theleader,andhismoneywasthemotivepower.</s>“‘“I’d a partner,” said he, “a rare good man, as trueasastocktoabarrel. He’sgotthedibbs,hehas, andwheredoyouthinkheisatthismoment? Why, he’sthechaplainofthisship—thechaplain,noless! He came aboard with a black coat, and his papers right,andmoneyenoughinhisboxtobuythething right up from keel to main-truck. The crew are his, bodyandsoul. Hecouldbuy’ematsomuchagross with a cash discount, and he did it before ever they signed on. He’s got two of the warders and Mercer, thesecondmate,andhe’dgetthecaptainhimself,if hethoughthimworthit.” “‘“Whatarewetodo,then?”Iasked.</s>“‘“Whatdoyouthink?”saidhe. “We’llmakethe coats of some of these soldiers redder than ever the tailordid.” “‘“Buttheyarearmed,”saidI.</s>“‘“Andsoshallwebe,myboy. There’sabraceof pistols for every mother’s son of us, and if we can’t carrythisship,withthecrewatourback,it’stimewe wereallsenttoayoungmisses’boarding-school. You speaktoyourmateupontheleftto-night,andseeif heistobetrusted.” “‘I did so, and found my other neighbor to be a young fellow in much the same position as myself, whosecrimehadbeenforgery. HisnamewasEvans, but he afterwards changed it, like myself, and he is nowarichandprosperousmaninthesouthofEng- land. He was ready enough to join the conspiracy, as the only means of saving ourselves, and before we had crossed the Bay there were only two of the prisoners who were not in the secret. One of these wasofweakmind,andwedidnotdaretotrusthim, andtheotherwassufferingfromjaundice,andcould notbeofanyusetous.</s>“‘Fromthebeginningtherewasreallynothingto prevent us from taking possession of the ship. The crew were a set of ruffians, specially picked for the job. Theshamchaplaincameintoourcellstoexhort us,carryingablackbag,supposedtobefulloftracts, and so often did he come that by the third day we hadeachstowedawayatthefootofourbedsafile,a braceofpistols,apoundofpowder,andtwentyslugs.</s>TwoofthewarderswereagentsofPrendergast,and thesecondmatewashisright-handman. Thecaptain, the two mates, two warders Lieutenant Martin, his eighteensoldiers,andthedoctorwereallthatwehad against us. Yet, safe as it was, we determined to ne- glectnoprecaution,andtomakeourattacksuddenly by night. It came, however, more quickly than we expected,andinthisway.</s>“‘One evening, about the third week after our start, the doctor had come down to see one of the prisoners who was ill, and putting his hand down on the bottom of his bunk he felt the outline of the pistols. Ifhehadbeensilenthemighthaveblownthe whole thing, but he was a nervous little chap, so he gaveacryofsurpriseandturnedsopalethattheman knewwhatwasupinaninstantandseizedhim. He wasgaggedbeforehecouldgivethealarm,andtied downuponthebed. Hehadunlockedthedoorthat ledtothedeck,andwewerethroughitinarush. The twosentrieswereshotdown,andsowasacorporal whocamerunningtoseewhatwasthematter. There weretwomoresoldiersatthedoorofthestate-room, andtheirmusketsseemednottobeloaded,forthey never fired upon us, and they were shot while try- ing to fix their bayonets. Then we rushed on into thecaptain’scabin,butaswepushedopenthedoor therewasanexplosionfromwithin,andtherehelay withhisbrainssmearedoverthechartoftheAtlantic whichwaspinneduponthetable,whilethechaplain stoodwithasmokingpistolinhishandathiselbow.</s>Thetwomateshadbothbeenseizedbythecrew,and thewholebusinessseemedtobesettled.</s>“‘The state-room was next the cabin, and we flocked in there and flopped down on the settees, allspeakingtogether,forwewerejustmadwiththe feeling that we were free once more. There were lockers all round, and Wilson, the sham chaplain, knocked one of them in, and pulled out a dozen of brown sherry. We cracked off the necks of the bot- tles,pouredthestuffoutintotumblers,andwerejust tossingthemoff,wheninaninstantwithoutwarningtherecametheroarofmusketsinourears,andthesa- loonwassofullofsmokethatwecouldnotseeacross thetable. Whenitclearedagaintheplacewasasham- bles. Wilsonandeightotherswerewrigglingonthe topofeachotheronthefloor,andthebloodandthe brownsherryonthattableturnmesicknowwhenI thinkofit. WeweresocowedbythesightthatIthink weshouldhavegiventhejobupifhadnotbeenfor Prendergast. Hebellowedlikeabullandrushedfor thedoorwithallthatwereleftaliveathisheels. Out we ran, and there on the poop were the lieutenent and ten of his men. The swing skylights above the saloontablehadbeenabitopen,andtheyhadfired on us through the slit. We got on them before they couldload,andtheystoodtoitlikemen;butwehad the upper hand of them, and in five minutes it was all over. My God! Was there ever a slaughter-house likethatship! Predergastwaslikearagingdevil,and hepickedthesoldiersupasiftheyhadbeenchildren andthrewthemoverboardaliveordead. Therewas onesergeantthatwashorriblywoundedandyetkept on swimming for a surprising time, until some one inmercyblewouthisbrains. Whenthefightingwas overtherewasnooneleftofourenemiesexceptjust thewarders,themates,andthedoctor.</s>“‘It was over them that the great quarrel arose.</s>Thereweremanyofuswhoweregladenoughtowin backourfreedom,andyetwhohadnowishtohave murder on our souls. It was one thing to knock the soldiersoverwiththeirmusketsintheirhands,andit wasanothertostandbywhilemenwerebeingkilled in cold blood. Eight of us, five convicts and three sailors,saidthatwewouldnotseeitdone. Butthere wasnomovingPredergastandthosewhowerewith him. Ouronlychanceofsafetylayinmakingaclean job of it, said he, and he would not leave a tongue with power to wag in a witness-box. It nearly came to our sharing the fate of the prisoners, but at last he said that if we wished we might take a boat and go. Wejumpedattheoffer,forwewerealreadysick of these blookthirsty doings, and we saw that there wouldbeworsebeforeitwasdone. Weweregivena suit of sailor togs each, a barrel of water, two casks, oneofjunkandoneofbiscuits,andacompass. Pren- dergast threw us over a chart, told us that we were shipwreckedmarinerswhoseshiphadfounderedin Lat.15◦andLong.25◦west,andthencutthepainter andletusgo.</s>“‘And now I come to the most surprising part of my story, my dear son. The seamen had hauled the fore-yard aback during the rising, but now as we left them they brought it square again, and as there was a light wind from the north and east the bark began to draw slowly away from us. Our boat lay,risingandfalling,uponthelong,smoothrollers, and Evans and I, who were the most educated of theparty,weresittinginthesheetsworkingoutour position and planning what coast we should make for. It was a nice question, for the Cape de Verds wereaboutfivehundredmilestothenorthofus,and the African coast about seven hundred to the east.</s>Onthewhole,asthewindwascomingroundtothe north, we thought that Sierra Leone might be best, andturnedourheadinthatdirection,thebarkbeing atthattimenearlyhulldownonourstarboardquar- ter. Suddenly as we looked at her we saw a dense blackcloudofsmokeshootupfromher,whichhung like a monstrous tree upon the sky line. A few sec- onds later a roar like thunder burst upon our ears, andasthesmokethinnedawaytherewasnosignleft oftheGloriaScott. Inaninstantweswepttheboat’s headroundagainandpulledwithallourstrengthfor theplacewherethehazestilltrailingoverthewater markedthesceneofthiscatastrophe.</s>“‘Itwasalonghourbeforewereachedit,andat firstwefearedthatwehadcometoolatetosaveany one. A splintered boat and a number of crates and fragments of spars rising and falling on the waves showeduswherethevesselhadfoundered;butthere wasnosignoflife,andwehadturnedawayindespair when we heard a cry for help, and saw at some dis- tanceapieceofwreckagewithamanlyingstretched across it. When we pulled him aboard the boat he proved to be a young seaman of the name of Hud- son,whowassoburnedandexhaustedthathecould give us no account of what had happened until the followingmorning.</s>“‘It seemed that after we had left, Prendergast andhisganghadproceededtoputtodeaththefive remainingprisoners. Thetwowardershadbeenshot andthrownoverboard,andsoalsohadthethirdmate.</s>Prendergast then descended into the ’tween-decks and with his own hands cut the throat of the unfor- tunate surgeon. There only remained the first mate, who was a bold and active man. When he saw the convictapproachinghimwiththebloodyknifeinhis handhekickedoffhisbonds,whichhehadsomehow contrived to loosen, and rushing down the deck he plunged into the after-hold. A dozen convicts, who descendedwiththeirpistolsinsearchofhim,found him with a match-box in his hand seated beside an openpowder-barrel,whichwasoneofahundredcar- riedonboard,andswearingthathewouldblowall handsupifhewereinanywaymolested. Aninstantlatertheexplosionoccurred,thoughHudsonthought itwascausedbythemisdirectedbulletofoneofthe convicts rather than the mate’s match. Be the cause what I may, it was the end of the GloriaScott and of therabblewhoheldcommandofher.</s>“‘Such,inafewwords,mydearboy,isthehistory ofthisterriblebusinessinwhichIwasinvolved. Next day we were picked up by the brig Hotspur, bound for Australia, whose captain found no difficulty in believing that we were the survivors of a passenger shipwhichhadfoundered. ThetransportshipGloria ScottwassetdownbytheAdmiraltyasbeinglostat sea, and no word has ever leaked out as to her true fate. After an excellent voyage the Hotspur landed usatSydney,whereEvansandIchangedournames andmadeourwaytothediggings,where,amongthe crowdswhoweregatheredfromallnations,wehad nodifficultyinlosingourformeridentities. TherestI neednotrelate. Weprospered,wetraveled,wecame back as rich colonials to England, and we bought countryestates. Formorethantwentyyearswehave ledpeacefulandusefullives,andwehopedthatour past was forever buried. Imagine, then, my feelings when in the seaman who came to us I recognized instantlythemanwhohadbeenpickedoffthewreck.</s>Hehadtrackedusdownsomehow,andhadsethim- selftoliveuponourfears. Youwillunderstandnow howitwasthatIstrovetokeepthepeacewithhim, and you will in some measure sympathize with me inthefearswhichfillme,nowthathehasgonefrom metohisothervictimwiththreatsuponhistongue.’ “Underneath is written in a hand so shaky as to behardlylegible,‘BeddoeswritesinciphertosayH.</s>hastoldall. SweetLord,havemercyonoursouls!’ “That was the narrative which I read that night toyoungTrevor,andIthink,Watson,thatunderthe circumstances it was a dramatic one. The good fel- lowwasheart-brokenatit,andwentouttotheTerai tea planting, where I hear that he is doing well. As to the sailor and Beddoes, neither of them was ever heard of again after that day on which the letter of warningwaswritten. Theybothdisappearedutterly andcompletely. Nocomplainthadbeenlodgedwith thepolice,sothatBeddoeshadmistakenathreatfor a deed. Hudson had been seen lurking about, and itwasbelievedbythepolicethathehaddoneaway withBeddoesandhadfled. FormyselfIbelievethat the truth was exactly the opposite. I think that it is mostprobablethatBeddoes, pushedtodesperation andbelievinghimselftohavebeenalreadybetrayed, had revenged himself upon Hudson, and had fled fromthecountrywithasmuchmoneyashecouldlay hishandson. Thosearethefactsofthecase,Doctor, andiftheyareofanyusetoyourcollection,Iamsure thattheyareveryheartilyatyourservice.”n anomaly which often struck me in the characterofmyfriendSherlockHolmeswas that, although in his methods of thought A hewastheneatestandmostmethodicalof mankind,andalthoughalsoheaffectedacertainquiet primnessofdress,hewasnonethelessinhispersonal habits one of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to distraction. Not that I am in the leastconventionalinthatrespectmyself. Therough- and-tumbleworkinAfghanistan,comingonthetop of a natural Bohemianism of disposition, has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man. But withmethereisalimit,andwhenIfindamanwho keepshiscigarsinthecoal-scuttle,histobaccointhe toeendofaPersianslipper,andhisunansweredcor- respondencetransfixedbyajack-knifeintothevery centreofhiswoodenmantelpiece,thenIbegintogive myself virtuous airs. I have always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly an open-air pas- time;andwhenHolmes,inoneofhisqueerhumors, would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a hundred Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn theoppositewallwithapatrioticV.R.doneinbullet- pocks,Ifeltstronglythatneithertheatmospherenor theappearanceofourroomwasimprovedbyit.</s>Ourchamberswerealwaysfullofchemicalsand ofcriminalrelicswhichhadawayofwanderinginto unlikely positions, and of turning up in the butter- dish or in even less desirable places. But his papers were my great crux. He had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which were connected withhispastcases,andyetitwasonlyonceinevery year or two that he would muster energy to docket and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned some- whereintheseincoherentmemoirs,theoutburstsof passionateenergywhenheperformedtheremarkable featswithwhichhisnameisassociatedwerefollowed by reactions of lethargy during which he would lie about with his violin and his books, hardly moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month after monthhispapersaccumulated,untileverycornerof the room was stacked with bundles of manuscript whichwereonnoaccounttobeburned, andwhich couldnotbeputawaysavebytheirowner. Onewin- ter’snight,aswesattogetherbythefire,Iventured to suggest to him that, as he had finished pasting extracts into his common-place book, he might em- ploythenexttwohoursinmakingourroomalittle morehabitable. Hecouldnotdenythejusticeofmy request,sowitharatherruefulfacehewentofftohis bedroom,fromwhichhereturnedpresentlypulling a large tin box behind him. This he placed in the middleofthefloorand,squattingdownuponastool infrontofit,hethrewbackthelid. Icouldseethatit was already a third full of bundles of paper tied up withredtapeintoseparatepackages.</s>“There are cases enough here, Watson,” said he, lookingatmewithmischievouseyes. “Ithinkthatif youknewallthatIhadinthisboxyouwouldaskme topullsomeoutinsteadofputtingothersin.” “Thesearetherecordsofyourearlywork,then?” Iasked. “IhaveoftenwishedthatIhadnotesofthose cases.” “Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my biographer had come to glorify me.” He liftedbundleafterbundleinatender,caressingsort of way. “They are not all successes, Watson,” said he. “Buttherearesomeprettylittleproblemsamong them. Here’stherecordoftheTarletonmurders,and thecaseofVamberry,thewinemerchant,andthead- ventureoftheoldRussianwoman,andthesingular affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full ac- countofRicolettioftheclub-foot,andhisabominable wife. And here—ah, now, this really is something a littlerecherche´.” Hedivedhisarmdowntothebottomofthechest, andbroughtupasmallwoodenboxwithaslidinglid, such as children’s toys are kept in. From within he producedacrumpledpieceofpaper,anold-fashioned brasskey,apegofwoodwithaballofstringattached toit,andthreerustyolddisksofmetal.</s>“Well,myboy,whatdoyoumakeofthislot?”he asked,smilingatmyexpression.</s>“Itisacuriouscollection.” “Verycurious, andthestorythathangsroundit willstrikeyouasbeingmorecuriousstill.” “Theserelicshaveahistorythen?” “Somuchsothattheyarehistory.” “Whatdoyoumeanbythat?” SherlockHolmespickedthemuponebyone,and laid them along the edge of the table. Then he re- seatedhimselfinhischairandlookedthemoverwith agleamofsatisfactioninhiseyes.</s>“These,”saidhe,“areallthatIhavelefttoremind meoftheadventureoftheMusgraveRitual.” Ihadheardhimmentionthecasemorethanonce, thoughIhadneverbeenabletogatherthedetails. “I shouldbesoglad,”saidI,“ifyouwouldgivemean accountofit.” “And leave the litter as it is?“ he cried, mis- chievously. “Your tidiness won’t bear much strain afterall,Watson. ButIshouldbegladthatyoushould add this case to your annals, for there are points initwhichmakeitquiteuniqueinthecriminalrecords of this or, I believe, of any other country. A collec- tion of my trifling achievements would certainly be incompletewhichcontainednoaccountofthisvery singularbusiness.</s>“You may remember how the affair of the Gloria Scott, and my conversation with the unhappy man whose fate I told you of, first turned my attention inthedirectionoftheprofessionwhichhasbecome mylife’swork. Youseemenowwhenmynamehas becomeknownfarandwide,andwhenIamgener- allyrecognizedbothbythepublicandbytheofficial forceasbeingafinalcourtofappealindoubtfulcases.</s>Evenwhenyouknewmefirst,atthetimeoftheaffair whichyouhavecommemoratedin‘AStudyinScar- let,’Ihadalreadyestablishedaconsiderable,though not a very lucrative, connection. You can hardly re- alize, then, how difficult I found it at first, and how longIhadtowaitbeforeIsucceededinmakingany headway.</s>“When I first came up to London I had rooms in Montague Street, just round the corner from the BritishMuseum,andthereIwaited,fillinginmytoo abundantleisuretimebystudyingallthosebranches ofsciencewhichmightmakememoreefficient. Now andagaincasescameinmyway,principallythrough theintroductionofoldfellow-students,forduringmy lastyearsattheUniversitytherewasagooddealof talk there about myself and my methods. The third ofthesecaseswasthatoftheMusgraveRitual,andit istotheinterestwhichwasarousedbythatsingular chain of events, and the large issues which proved tobeatstake,thatItracemyfirststridetowardsthe positionwhichInowhold.</s>“ReginaldMusgravehadbeeninthesamecollege as myself, and I had some slight acquaintance with him. He was not generally popular among the un- dergraduates, though it always seemed to me that whatwassetdownaspridewasreallyanattemptto cover extreme natural diffidence. In appearance he wasamanofexceedinglyaristocratictype,thin,high- nosed,andlarge-eyed,withlanguidandyetcourtly manners. He was indeed a scion of one of the very oldestfamiliesinthekingdom,thoughhisbranchwas acadetone whichhadseparatedfrom thenorthern Musgraves some time in the sixteenth century, and had established itself in western Sussex, where the Manor House of Hurlstone is perhaps the oldest in- habitedbuildinginthecounty. Somethingofhisbirth placeseemedtoclingtotheman,andIneverlooked athispale,keenfaceorthepoiseofhisheadwithout associating him with gray archways and mullioned windowsandallthevenerablewreckageofafeudal keep. Once or twice we drifted into talk, and I can rememberthatmorethanonceheexpressedakeen interestinmymethodsofobservationandinference.</s>“ForfouryearsIhadseennothingofhimuntilone morninghewalkedintomyroominMontagueStreet.</s>Hehadchangedlittle,wasdressedlikeayoungman of fashion—he was always a bit of a dandy—and preserved the same quiet, suave manner which had formerlydistinguishedhim.</s>“‘HowhasallgonewithyouMusgrave?’ Iasked, afterwehadcordiallyshakenhands.</s>“‘Youprobablyheardofmypoorfather’sdeath,’ saidhe;‘hewascarriedoffabouttwoyearsago. Since thenIhaveofcoursehadtheHurlstoneestatestoman- age,andasIammemberformydistrictaswell,my lifehasbeenabusyone. ButIunderstand,Holmes, that you are turning to practical ends those powers withwhichyouusedtoamazeus?’ “‘Yes,’saidI,‘Ihavetakentolivingbymywits.’ “‘I am delighted to hear it, for your advice at present would be exceedingly valuable to me. We havehadsomeverystrangedoingsatHurlstone,and thepolicehavebeenabletothrownolightuponthe matter. Itisreallythemostextraordinaryandinexpli- cablebusiness.’ “YoucanimaginewithwhateagernessIlistened tohim,Watson,fortheverychanceforwhichIhad been panting during all those months of inaction seemedtohavecomewithinmyreach. Inmyinmost heart I believed that I could succeed where others failed,andnowIhadtheopportunitytotestmyself.</s>“‘Pray,letmehavethedetails,’Icried.</s>“ReginaldMusgravesatdownoppositetome,and litthecigarettewhichIhadpushedtowardshim.</s>“‘You must know,’ said he, ‘that though I am a bachelor, I have to keep up a considerable staff of servants at Hurlstone, for it is a rambling old place, andtakesagooddealoflookingafter. Ipreserve,too, and in the pheasant months I usually have a house- party, so that it would not do to be short-handed.</s>Altogetherthereareeightmaids,thecook,thebutler, twofootmen,andaboy. Thegardenandthestables ofcoursehaveaseparatestaff.</s>“‘Oftheseservantstheonewhohadbeenlongest inourservicewasBruntonthebutler. Hewasayoung school-masteroutofplacewhenhewasfirsttakenup bymyfather,buthewasamanofgreatenergyand character,andhesoonbecamequiteinvaluableinthe household. He was a well-grown, handsome man, with a splendid forehead, and though he has been withusfortwentyyearshecannotbemorethanfortynow. With his personal advantages and his extraor- dinarygifts—forhecanspeakseverallanguagesand playnearlyeverymusicalinstrument—itiswonderful that he should have been satisfied so long in such a position,butIsupposethathewascomfortable,and lacked energy to make any change. The butler of Hurlstoneisalwaysathingthatisrememberedbyall whovisitus.</s>“‘Butthisparagonhasonefault. Heisabitofa Don Juan, and you can imagine that for a man like him it is not a very difficult part to play in a quiet countrydistrict. Whenhewasmarrieditwasallright, butsincehehasbeenawidowerwehavehadnoend of trouble with him. A few months ago we were in hopesthathewasabouttosettledownagainforhe becameengagedtoRachelHowells,oursecondhouse- maid;buthehasthrownheroversincethenandtaken upwithJanetTregellis,thedaughteroftheheadgame- keeper. Rachel—who is a very good girl, but of an excitableWelshtemperament—hadasharptouchof brain-fever, and goes about the house now—or did untilyesterday—likeablack-eyedshadowofherfor- merself. ThatwasourfirstdramaatHurlstone;but asecondonecametodriveitfromourminds,andit wasprefacedbythedisgraceanddismissalofbutler Brunton.</s>“‘This was how it came about. I have said that the man was intelligent, and this very intelligence has caused his ruin, for it seems to have led to an insatiablecuriosityaboutthingswhichdidnotinthe least concern him. I had no idea of the lengths to whichthiswouldcarryhim,untilthemerestaccident openedmyeyestoit.</s>“‘I have said that the house is a rambling one.</s>One day last week—on Thursday night, to be more exact—IfoundthatIcouldnotsleep,havingfoolishly takenacupofstrongcafe´ noiraftermydinner. After struggling against it until two in the morning, I felt that it was quite hopeless, so I rose and lit the can- dlewiththeintentionofcontinuinganovelwhichI wasreading. Thebook,however,hadbeenleftinthe billiard-room,soIpulledonmydressing-gownand startedofftogetit.</s>“‘Inordertoreachthebilliard-roomIhadtode- scendaflightofstairsandthentocrosstheheadof apassagewhichledtothelibraryandthegun-room.</s>Youcanimaginemysurprisewhen,asIlookeddown thiscorridor,Isawaglimmeroflightcomingfromthe open door of the library. I had myself extinguished the lamp and closed the door before coming to bed.</s>Naturallymyfirstthoughtwasofburglars. Thecorri- dorsatHurlstonehavetheirwallslargelydecorated with trophies of old weapons. From one of these I picked a battle-axe, and then, leaving my candle behind me, I crept on tiptoe down the passage and peepedinattheopendoor.</s>“‘Brunton,thebutler,wasinthelibrary. Hewas sitting,fullydressed,inaneasy-chair,withaslipof paper which looked like a map upon his knee, and his forehead sunk forward upon his hand in deep thought. Istooddumbwithastonishment,watching himfromthedarkness. Asmalltaperontheedgeof the table shed a feeble light which sufficed to show methathewasfullydressed. Suddenly,asIlooked, herosefromhischair,andwalkingovertoabureau at the side, he unlocked it and drew out one of the drawers. From this he took a paper, and returning tohisseatheflatteneditoutbesidethetaperonthe edgeofthetable,andbegantostudyitwithminute attention. My indignation at this calm examination of our family documents overcame me so far that I took a step forward, and Brunton, looking up, saw me standing in the doorway. He sprang to his feet, his face turned livid with fear, and he thrust into his breast the chart-like paper which he had been originallystudying.</s>“‘“So!” said I. “This is how you repay the trust which we have reposed in you. You will leave my serviceto-morrow.” “‘Hebowedwiththelookofamanwhoisutterly crushed, and slunk past me without a word. The taperwasstillonthetable,andbyitslightIglanced toseewhatthepaperwaswhichBruntonhadtaken fromthebureau. Tomysurpriseitwasnothingofany importanceatall,butsimplyacopyofthequestions and answers in the singular old observance called the Musgrave Ritual. It is a sort of ceremony pecu- liartoourfamily,whicheachMusgraveforcenturies pasthasgonethroughonhiscomingofage—athing ofprivateinterest,andperhapsofsomelittleimpor- tance to the archaeologist, like our own blazonings andcharges,butofnopracticalusewhatever.’ “‘We had better come back to the paper after- wards,’saidI.</s>“‘If you think it really necessary,’ he answered, with some hesitation. ‘To continue my statement, however: Irelockedthebureau,usingthekeywhich Bruntonhadleft,andIhadturnedtogowhenIwas surprised to find that the butler had returned, and wasstandingbeforeme.</s>“‘“Mr.Musgrave,sir,”hecried,inavoicewhich was hoarse with emotion, “I can’t bear disgrace, sir.</s>I’vealwaysbeenproudabovemystationinlife,and disgrace would kill me. My blood will be on yourhead,sir—itwill,indeed—ifyoudrivemetodespair.</s>If you cannot keep me after what has passed, then forGod’ssakeletmegiveyounoticeandleaveina month,asifofmyownfreewill. Icouldstandthat, Mr. Musgrave, but not to be cast out before all the folkthatIknowsowell.” “‘“Youdon’tdeservemuchconsideration,Brun- ton,”Ianswered. “Yourconducthasbeenmostinfa- mous. However,asyouhavebeenalongtimeinthe family,Ihavenowishtobringpublicdisgraceupon you. A month, however is too long. Take yourself away in a week, and give what reason you like for going.” “‘“Only a week, sir?” he cried, in a despairing voice. “Afortnight—sayatleastafortnight!” “‘“A week,” I repeated, “and you may consider yourselftohavebeenverylenientlydealtwith.” “‘Hecreptaway,hisfacesunkuponhisbreast,like abrokenman,whileIputoutthelightandreturned tomyroom.</s>“‘FortwodaysafterthisBruntonwasmostassid- uousinhisattentiontohisduties. Imadenoallusion to what had passed, and waited with some curios- ity to see how he would cover his disgrace. On the third morning, however he did not appear, as was hiscustom,afterbreakfasttoreceivemyinstructions for the day. As I left the dining-room I happened to meet Rachel Howells, the maid. I have told you thatshehadonlyrecentlyrecoveredfromanillness, and was looking so wretchedly pale and wan that I remonstratedwithherforbeingatwork.</s>“‘“Youshouldbeinbed,”Isaid. “Comebackto yourdutieswhenyouarestronger.” “‘Shelookedatmewithsostrangeanexpression thatIbegantosuspectthatherbrainwasaffected.</s>“‘“Iamstrongenough,Mr.Musgrave,”saidshe.</s>“‘“Wewillseewhatthedoctorsays,”Ianswered.</s>“You must stop work now, and when you go down- stairsjustsaythatIwishtoseeBrunton.” “‘“Thebutlerisgone,”saidshe.</s>“‘“Gone! Gonewhere?” “‘“He is gone. No one has seen him. He is not in his room. Oh, yes, he is gone, he is gone!” She fell back against the wall with shriek after shriek of laughter, while I, horrified at this sudden hysterical attack, rushed to the bell to summon help. The girl was taken to her room, still screaming and sobbing, while I made inquiries about Brunton. There was nodoubtaboutitthathehaddisappeared. Hisbed had not been slept in, he had been seen by no one sincehehadretiredtohisroomthenightbefore,and yet it was difficult to see how he could have left the house,asbothwindowsanddoorswerefoundtobe fastenedinthemorning. Hisclothes,hiswatch,and evenhismoneywereinhisroom,buttheblacksuit whichheusuallyworewasmissing. Hisslippers,too, were gone, but his boots were left behind. Where thencouldbutlerBruntonhavegoneinthenight,and whatcouldhavebecomeofhimnow? “‘Of course we searched the house from cellar to garret, but there was no trace of him. It is, as I havesaid,alabyrinthofanoldhouse,especiallythe originalwing,whichisnowpracticallyuninhabited; butweransackedeveryroomandcellarwithoutdis- covering the least sign of the missing man. It was incredibletomethathecouldhavegoneawayleav- ingallhispropertybehindhim,andyetwherecould hebe? Icalledinthelocalpolice,butwithoutsuccess.</s>Rainhadfallenonthenightbeforeandweexamined the lawn and the paths all round the house, but in vain. Matterswereinthisstate,whenanewdevelop- mentquitedrewourattentionawayfromtheoriginal mystery.</s>“‘For two days Rachel Howells had been so ill, sometimes delirious, sometimes hysterical, that a nursehadbeenemployedtositupwithheratnight.</s>On the third night after Brunton’s disappearance, the nurse, finding her patient sleeping nicely, had droppedintoanapinthearm-chair,whenshewoke intheearlymorningtofindthebedempty,thewin- dowopen,andnosignsoftheinvalid. Iwasinstantly aroused, and, with the two footmen, started off at onceinsearchofthemissinggirl. Itwasnotdifficult totellthedirectionwhichshehadtaken,for,starting from under her window, we could follow her foot- markseasilyacrossthelawntotheedgeofthemere, where they vanished close to the gravel path which leadsoutofthegrounds. Thelakethereiseightfeet deep,andyoucanimagineourfeelingswhenwesaw that the trail of the poor demented girl came to an endattheedgeofit.</s>“‘Ofcourse,wehadthedragsatonce,andsetto worktorecovertheremains,butnotraceofthebody couldwefind. Ontheotherhand,webroughttothe surface an object of a most unexpected kind. It was a linen bag which contained within it a mass of old rustedanddiscoloredmetalandseveraldull-colored pieces of pebble or glass. This strange find was all that we could get from the mere, and, although we made every possible search and inquiry yesterday, we know nothing of the fate either of Rachel How- ells or of Richard Brunton. The county police are attheir wits’ end, and I have come up to you as a last resource.’ “You can imagine, Watson, with what eagerness I listened to this extraordinary sequence of events, and endeavored to piece them together, and to de- visesomecommonthreaduponwhichtheymightall hang. Thebutlerwasgone. Themaidwasgone. The maid had loved the butler, but had afterwards had causetohatehim. ShewasofWelshblood,fieryand passionate. Shehadbeenterriblyexcitedimmediately afterhisdisappearance. Shehadflungintothelakea bagcontainingsomecuriouscontents. Thesewereall factorswhichhadtobetakenintoconsideration,and yetnoneofthemgotquitetotheheartofthematter.</s>What was the starting-point of this chain of events? Therelaytheendofthistangledline.</s>“‘Imustseethatpaper,Musgrave,’saidI,‘which thisbutlerofyourthoughtitworthhiswhiletocon- sult,evenattheriskofthelossofhisplace.’ “‘It is rather an absurd business, this ritual of ours,’ he answered. ‘But it has at least the saving grace of antiquity to excuse it. I have a copy of the questions and answers here if you care to run your eyeoverthem.’ “HehandedmetheverypaperwhichIhavehere, Watson, and this is the strange catechism to which eachMusgravehadtosubmitwhenhecametoman’s estate. Iwillreadyouthequestionsandanswersas theystand.</s>“‘Whosewasit?’ “‘Hiswhoisgone.’ “‘Whoshallhaveit?’ “‘Hewhowillcome.’ “‘Whatwasthemonth?’ “‘Thesixthfromthefirst.’ “‘Wherewasthesun?’ “‘Overtheoak.’ “‘Wherewastheshadow?’ “‘Undertheelm.’ “‘Howwasitstepped?’ “‘Northbytenandbyten,eastbyfiveandbyfive, south by two and by two, west by one and by one, andsounder.’ “‘Whatshallwegiveforit?’ “‘Allthatisours.’ “‘Whyshouldwegiveit?’ “‘Forthesakeofthetrust.’ “‘The original has no date, but is in the spelling ofthemiddleoftheseventeenthcentury,’remarked Musgrave. ‘Iamafraid,however,thatitcanbeoflittle helptoyouinsolvingthismystery.’ “‘Atleast,’saidI,‘itgivesusanothermystery,and one which is even more interesting than the first. It maybethatthesolutionoftheonemayprovetobe the solution of the other. You will excuse me, Mus- grave,ifIsaythatyourbutlerappearstometohave been a very clever man, and to have had a clearer insightthattengenerationsofhismasters.’ “‘Ihardlyfollowyou,’saidMusgrave. ‘Thepaper seemstometobeofnopracticalimportance.’ “‘But to me it seems immensely practical, and I fancythatBruntontookthesameview. Hehadprob- ably seen it before that night on which you caught him.’ “‘Itisverypossible. Wetooknopainstohideit.’ “‘Hesimplywished,Ishouldimagine,torefresh his memory upon that last occasion. He had, as I understand,somesortofmaporchartwhichhewas comparingwiththemanuscript,andwhichhethrust intohispocketwhenyouappeared.’ “‘Thatistrue. Butwhatcouldhehavetodowith this old family custom of ours, and what does this rigmarolemean?’ “‘Idon’tthinkthatweshouldhavemuchdifficulty indeterminingthat,’saidI;‘withyourpermissionwe willtakethefirsttraindowntoSussex,andgoalittle moredeeplyintothematteruponthespot.’ “The same afternoon saw us both at Hurlstone.</s>Possiblyyouhaveseenpicturesandreaddescriptions of the famous old building, so I will confine my ac- countofittosayingthatitisbuiltintheshapeofan L,thelongarmbeingthemoremodernportion,and theshortertheancientnucleus,fromwhichtheother haddeveloped. Overthelow,heavily-lintelleddoor, inthecentreofthisoldpart,ischiseledthedate,1607, butexpertsareagreedthatthebeamsandstone-work arereallymucholderthanthis. Theenormouslythick walls and tiny windows of this part had in the last centurydriventhefamilyintobuildingthenewwing, andtheoldonewasusednowasastore-houseanda cellar,whenitwasusedatall. Asplendidparkwith fineoldtimbersurroundsthehouse,andthelake,to whichmyclienthadreferred,layclosetotheavenue, abouttwohundredyardsfromthebuilding.</s>“I was already firmly convinced, Watson, that therewerenotthreeseparatemysterieshere,butone only, and that if I could read the Musgrave RitualarightIshouldholdinmyhandthecluewhichwould leadmetothetruthconcerningboththebutlerBrun- ton and the maid Howells. To that then I turned all myenergies. Whyshouldthisservantbesoanxious tomasterthisoldformula? Evidentlybecausehesaw somethinginitwhichhadescapedallthosegenera- tionsofcountrysquires,andfromwhichheexpected somepersonaladvantage. Whatwasitthen,andhow haditaffectedhisfate? “It was perfectly obvious to me, on reading the ritual,thatthemeasurementsmustrefertosomespot towhichtherestofthedocumentalluded,andthat ifwecouldfindthatspot,weshouldbeinafairway towards finding what the secret was which the old Musgraveshadthoughtitnecessarytoembalminso curious a fashion. There were two guides given us tostartwith,anoakandanelm. Astotheoakthere couldbenoquestionatall. Rightinfrontofthehouse, upontheleft-handsideofthedrive,therestoodapa- triarchamongoaks,oneofthemostmagnificenttrees thatIhaveeverseen.</s>“‘Thatwastherewhenyourritualwasdrawnup,’ saidI,aswedrovepastit.</s>“‘ItwasthereattheNormanConquestinallprob- ability,’ he answered. ‘It has a girth of twenty-three feet.’ “Herewasoneofmyfixedpointssecured.</s>“‘Haveyouanyoldelms?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Thereusedtobeaveryoldoneoveryonderbut itwasstruckbylightningtenyearsago,andwecut downthestump,’ “‘Youcanseewhereitusedtobe?’ “‘Oh,yes.’ “‘Therearenootherelms?’ “‘Nooldones,butplentyofbeeches.’ “‘Ishouldliketoseewhereitgrew.’ “Wehaddrivenupinadogcart,andmyclientled meawayatonce,withoutourenteringthehouse,to thescaronthelawnwheretheelmhadstood. Itwas nearly midway between the oak and the house. My investigationseemedtobeprogressing.</s>“‘Isupposeitisimpossibletofindouthowhigh theelmwas?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Icangiveyouitatonce. Itwassixty-fourfeet.’ “‘Howdoyoucometoknowit?’ Iasked,insur- prise.</s>“‘Whenmyoldtutorusedtogivemeanexercise intrigonometry,italwaystooktheshapeofmeasur- ingheights. WhenIwasaladIworkedouteverytree andbuildingintheestate.’ “Thiswasanunexpectedpieceofluck. Mydata werecomingmorequicklythanIcouldhavereason- ablyhoped.</s>“‘Tellme,’Iasked,‘didyourbutlereveraskyou suchaquestion?’ “Reginald Musgrave looked at me in astonish- ment. ‘Nowthatyoucallittomymind,’heanswered, ‘Bruntondidaskmeabouttheheightofthetreesome monthsago,inconnectionwithsomelittleargument withthegroom.’ “This was excellent news, Watson, for it showed me that I was on the right road. I looked up at the sun. Itwaslowintheheavens,andIcalculatedthatin lessthananhouritwouldliejustabovethetopmost branchesoftheoldoak. Oneconditionmentionedin the Ritual would then be fulfilled. And the shadow oftheelmmustmeanthefartherendoftheshadow, otherwise the trunk would have been chosen as the guide. I had, then, to find where the far end of the shadowwouldfallwhenthesunwasjustclearofthe oak.” “Thatmusthavebeendifficult,Holmes,whenthe elmwasnolongerthere.” “Well,atleastIknewthatifBruntoncoulddoit, I could also. Besides, there was no real difficulty. I wentwithMusgravetohisstudyandwhittledmyself thispeg,towhichItiedthislongstringwithaknot ateachyard. ThenItooktwolengthsofafishing-rod, which came to just six feet, and I went back with my client to where the elm had been. The sun was just grazing the top of the oak. I fastened the rod onend,markedoutthedirectionoftheshadow,and measuredit. Itwasninefeetinlength.</s>“Ofcoursethecalculationnowwasasimpleone.</s>If a rod of six feet threw a shadow of nine, a tree of sixty-four feet would throw one of ninety-six, and thelineoftheonewouldofcoursebethelineofthe other. Imeasuredoutthedistance,whichbroughtme almost to the wall of the house, and I thrust a peg intothespot. Youcanimaginemyexultation,Watson, when within two inches of my peg I saw a conical depressionintheground. Iknewthatitwasthemark madebyBruntoninhismeasurements,andthatIwas stilluponhistrail.</s>“Fromthisstarting-pointIproceededtostep,hav- ing first taken the cardinal points by my pocket- compass. Ten steps with each foot took me alongparallelwiththewallofthehouse,andagainImarked myspotwithapeg. ThenIcarefullypacedofffiveto the east and two to the south. It brought me to the verythresholdoftheolddoor. Twostepstothewest meantnowthatIwastogotwopacesdownthestone- flaggedpassage,andthiswastheplaceindicatedby theRitual.</s>“NeverhaveIfeltsuchacoldchillofdisappoint- ment, Watson. For a moment it seemed to me that theremustbesomeradicalmistakeinmycalculations.</s>Thesettingsunshonefulluponthepassagefloor,and I could see that the old, foot-worn gray stones with which it was paved were firmly cemented together, and had certainly not been moved for many a long year. Brunton had not been at work here. I tapped uponthefloor,butitsoundedthesameallover,and therewasnosignofanycrackorcrevice. Butfortu- nately, Musgrave, who had begun to appreciate the meaning of my proceedings, and who was now as excited as myself, took out his manuscript to check mycalculation.</s>“‘And under,’ he cried. ‘You have omitted the “andunder.”’ “Ihadthoughtthatitmeantthatweweretodig, but now, of course, I saw at once that I was wrong.</s>‘Thereisacellarunderthisthen?’ Icried.</s>“‘Yes, and as old as the house. Down here, throughthisdoor.’ “We went down a winding stone stair, and my companion,strikingamatch,litalargelanternwhich stood on a barrel in the corner. In an instant it was obviousthatwehadatlastcomeuponthetrueplace, andthatwehadnotbeentheonlypeopletovisitthe spotrecently.</s>“It had been used for the storage of wood, but thebillets,whichhadevidentlybeenlitteredoverthe floor, were now piled at the sides, so as to leave a clear space in the middle. In this space lay a large and heavy flagstone with a rusted iron ring in the centretowhichathickshepherd’s-checkmufflerwas attached.</s>“‘ByJove!’ criedmyclient. ‘That’sBrunton’smuf- fler. Ihaveseenitonhim,andcouldsweartoit. What hasthevillainbeendoinghere?’ “Atmysuggestionacoupleofthecountypolice weresummonedtobepresent,andIthenendeavored to raise the stone by pulling on the cravat. I could onlymoveitslightly,anditwaswiththeaidofone oftheconstablesthatIsucceededatlastincarryingit tooneside. Ablackholeyawnedbeneathintowhich weallpeered,whileMusgrave,kneelingattheside, pusheddownthelantern.</s>“Asmallchamberaboutsevenfeetdeepandfour feetsquarelayopentous. Atonesideofthiswasa squat,brass-boundwoodenbox,thelidofwhichwas hingedupwards,withthiscuriousold-fashionedkey projecting from the lock. It was furred outside by a thicklayerofdust,anddampandwormshadeaten through the wood, so that a crop of livid fungi was growingontheinsideofit. Severaldiscsofmetal,old coinsapparently,suchasIholdhere,werescattered overthebottomofthebox,butitcontainednothing else.</s>“Atthemoment,however,wehadnothoughtfor the old chest, for our eyes were riveted upon that whichcrouchedbesideit. Itwasthefigureofaman, cladinasuitofblack,whosquatteddownuponhis hams with his forehead sunk upon the edge of the box and his two arms thrown out on each side of it. The attitude had drawn all the stagnant blood to the face, and no man could have recognized that distorted liver-colored countenance; but his height, hisdress,andhishairwereallsufficienttoshowmy client,whenwehaddrawnthebodyup,thatitwas indeed his missing butler. He had been dead some days, but there was no wound or bruise upon his person to show how he had met his dreadful end.</s>When his body had been carried from the cellar we foundourselvesstillconfrontedwithaproblemwhich wasalmostasformidableasthatwithwhichwehad started.</s>“I confess that so far, Watson, I had been disap- pointed in my investigation. I had reckoned upon solvingthematterwhenonceIhadfoundtheplace referred to in the Ritual; but now I was there, and wasapparentlyasfaraseverfromknowingwhatit waswhichthefamilyhadconcealedwithsuchelabo- rate precautions. It is true that I had thrown a light uponthefateofBrunton,butnowIhadtoascertain howthatfatehadcomeuponhim,andwhatparthad been played in the matter by the woman who had disappeared. Isatdownuponakeginthecornerand thoughtthewholemattercarefullyover.</s>“Youknowmymethodsinsuchcases,Watson. I putmyselfintheman’splaceand,havingfirstgauged hisintelligence,ItrytoimaginehowIshouldmyself haveproceededunderthesamecircumstances. Inthis case the matter was simplified by Brunton’s intelli- gencebeingquitefirst-rate,sothatitwasunnecessary tomakeanyallowanceforthepersonalequation,as theastronomershavedubbedit. Heknewthatsome- thing valuable was concealed. He had spotted theplace. Hefoundthatthestonewhichcovereditwas just too heavy for a man to move unaided. What would he do next? He could not get help from out- side, even if he had some one whom he could trust, withouttheunbarringofdoorsandconsiderablerisk of detection. It was better, if he could, to have his helpmateinsidethehouse. Butwhomcouldheask? This girl had been devoted to him. A man always findsithardtorealizethathemayhavefinallylosta woman’slove,howeverbadlyhemayhavetreatedher.</s>Hewouldtrybyafewattentionstomakehispeace withthegirlHowells,andthenwouldengageheras his accomplice. Together they would come at night to the cellar, and their united force would suffice to raisethestone. SofarIcouldfollowtheiractionsas ifIhadactuallyseenthem.</s>“Butfortwoofthem, andoneawoman, itmust have been heavy work the raising of that stone. A burly Sussex policeman and I had found it no light job. What would they do to assist them? Probably whatIshouldhavedonemyself. Iroseandexamined carefully the different billets of wood which were scattered round the floor. Almost at once I came upon what I expected. One piece, about three feet inlength,hadaverymarkedindentationatoneend, while several were flattened at the sides as if they had been compressed by some considerable weight.</s>Evidently,astheyhaddraggedthestoneuptheyhad thrustthechunksofwoodintothechink,untilatlast, whentheopeningwaslargeenoughtocrawlthrough, theywouldholditopenbyabilletplacedlengthwise, whichmightverywellbecomeindentedatthelower end,sincethewholeweightofthestonewouldpress itdownontotheedgeofthisotherslab. SofarIwas stillonsafeground.</s>“AndnowhowwasItoproceedtoreconstructthis midnightdrama? Clearly,onlyonecouldfitintothe hole,andthatonewasBrunton. Thegirlmusthave waitedabove. Bruntonthenunlockedthebox,handed upthecontentspresumably—sincetheywerenotto befound—andthen—andthenwhathappened? “What smouldering fire of vengeance had sud- denly sprung into flame in this passionate Celtic woman’s soul when she saw the man who had wrongedher—wrongedher,perhaps,farmorethan wesuspected—inherpower? Wasitachancethatthe woodhadslipped,andthatthestonehadshutBrun- ton into what had become his sepulchre? Had she onlybeenguiltyofsilenceastohisfate? Orhadsome suddenblowfromherhanddashedthesupportaway and sent the slab crashing down into its place? Be thatasitmight,Iseemedtoseethatwoman’sfigure stillclutchingathertreasuretroveandflyingwildly up the winding stair, with her ears ringing perhaps withthemuffledscreamsfrombehindherandwith thedrummingof frenziedhandsagainsttheslab of stonewhichwaschokingherfaithlesslover’slifeout.</s>“Here was the secret of her blanched face, her shaken nerves, her peals of hysterical laughter on the next morning. But what had been in the box? What had she done with that? Of course, it must havebeentheoldmetalandpebbleswhichmyclient haddraggedfromthemere. Shehadthrownthemin thereatthefirstopportunitytoremovethelasttrace ofhercrime.</s>“FortwentyminutesIhadsatmotionless, think- ingthematterout. Musgravestillstoodwithavery paleface,swinginghislanternandpeeringdowninto thehole.</s>“‘These are coins of Charles the First,’ said he, holdingoutthefewwhichhadbeeninthebox;‘you seewewererightinfixingourdatefortheRitual.’ “‘WemayfindsomethingelseofCharlestheFirst,’ Icried,astheprobablemeaningofthefirsttwoques- tionoftheRitualbrokesuddenlyuponme. ‘Letme seethecontentsofthebagwhichyoufishedfromthe mere.’ “Weascendedtohisstudy,andhelaidthedebris beforeme. Icouldunderstandhisregardingitasof small importance when I looked at it, for the metal was almost black and the stones lustreless and dull.</s>I rubbed one of them on my sleeve, however, and it glowed afterwards like a spark in the dark hollow of my hand. The metal work was in the form of a doublering,butithadbeenbentandtwistedoutof itsoriginalshape.</s>“‘You must bear in mind,’ said I, ‘that the royal partymadeheadinEnglandevenafterthedeathof theKing,andthatwhentheyatlastfledtheyprobably leftmanyoftheirmostpreciouspossessionsburied behindthem,withtheintentionofreturningforthem inmorepeacefultimes.’ “‘Myancestor,SirRalphMusgrave,wasapromi- nentCavalierandtheright-handmanofCharlesthe Secondinhiswanderings,’saidmyfriend.</s>“‘Ah,indeed!’ Ianswered. ‘Wellnow,Ithinkthat reallyshouldgiveusthelastlinkthatwewanted. I mustcongratulateyouoncomingintothepossession, thoughinratheratragicmanner,ofarelicwhichisof greatintrinsicvalue,butofevengreaterimportance asanhistoricalcuriosity.’ “‘Whatisit,then?’ hegaspedinastonishment.</s>“‘Itisnothinglessthantheancientcrownofthe kingsofEngland.’“‘Thecrown!’ “‘Precisely. ConsiderwhattheRitualsays: How doesitrun? “Whosewasit?”“Hiswhoisgone.”That wasaftertheexecutionofCharles. Then,“Whoshall haveit?”“Hewhowillcome.”ThatwasCharlesthe Second, whose advent was already foreseen. There can,Ithink,benodoubtthatthisbatteredandshape- less diadem once encircled the brows of the royal Stuarts.’ “‘Andhowcameitinthepond?’ “‘Ah,thatisaquestionthatwilltakesometime toanswer.’ Andwiththat Isketched outtohim the wholelongchainofsurmiseandofproofwhichIhad constructed. Thetwilighthadclosedinandthemoon was shining brightly in the sky before my narrative wasfinished.</s>“‘AndhowwasitthenthatCharlesdidnotgethis crownwhenhereturned?’ askedMusgrave,pushing backtherelicintoitslinenbag.</s>“‘Ah,thereyoulayyourfingerupontheonepoint whichweshallprobablyneverbeabletoclearup. It islikelythattheMusgravewhoheldthesecretdied intheinterval,andbysomeoversightleftthisguide tohisdescendantwithoutexplainingthemeaningof it. From that day to this it has been handed down fromfathertoson,untilatlastitcamewithinreach ofamanwhotoreitssecretoutofitandlosthislife intheventure.’ “And that’s the story of the Musgrave Ritual, Watson. They have the crown down at Hurl- stone—though they had some legal bother and a considerable sum to pay before they were allowed toretainit. Iamsurethatifyoumentionedmyname theywouldbehappytoshowittoyou. Ofthewoman nothing was ever heard, and the probability is that shegotawayoutofEnglandandcarriedherselfand the memory of her crime to some land beyond the seas.”t was some time before the health of my friendMr.SherlockHolmesrecoveredfrom thestraincausedbyhisimmenseexertions I inthespringof’87. Thewholequestionof theNetherland-SumatraCompanyandofthecolossal schemes of Baron Maupertuis are too recent in the mindsofthepublic,andaretoointimatelyconcerned withpoliticsandfinancetobefittingsubjectsforthis series of sketches. They led, however, in an indirect fashion to a singular and complex problem which gavemyfriendanopportunityofdemonstratingthe valueofafreshweaponamongthemanywithwhich hewagedhislife-longbattleagainstcrime.</s>OnreferringtomynotesIseethatitwasuponthe 14th of April that I received a telegram from Lyons whichinformedmethatHolmeswaslyingillinthe Hotel Dulong. Within twenty-four hours I was in his sick-room, and was relieved to find that there was nothing formidable in his symptoms. Even his ironconstitution,however,hadbrokendownunder the strain of an investigation which had extended overtwomonths,duringwhichperiodhehadnever worked less than fifteen hours a day, and had more thanonce,asheassuredme,kepttohistaskforfive days at a stretch. Even the triumphant issue of his laborscouldnotsavehimfromreactionaftersoter- rible an exertion, and at a time when Europe was ringingwithhisnameandwhenhisroomwasliter- allyankle-deepwithcongratulatorytelegramsIfound himapreytotheblackestdepression. Eventheknowl- edgethathehadsucceededwherethepoliceofthree countrieshadfailed,andthathehadoutmanoeuvred ateverypointthemostaccomplishedswindlerinEu- rope,wasinsufficienttorousehimfromhisnervous prostration.</s>ThreedayslaterwewerebackinBakerStreetto- gether; but it was evident that my friend would be much the better for a change, and the thought of a weekofspringtimeinthecountrywasfullofattrac- tionstomealso. Myoldfriend,ColonelHayter,who hadcomeundermyprofessionalcareinAfghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate in Surrey, and hadfrequentlyaskedmetocomedowntohimupona visit. Onthelastoccasionhehadremarkedthatifmy friend would only come with me he would be glad to extend his hospitality to him also. A little diplo- macywasneeded,butwhenHolmesunderstoodthat the establishment was a bachelor one, and that he wouldbeallowedthefullestfreedom,hefellinwith myplansandaweekafterourreturnfromLyonswe wereundertheColonel’sroof. Hayterwasafineold soldierwhohadseenmuchoftheworld,andhesoon found, as I had expected, that Holmes and he had muchincommon.</s>Ontheeveningofourarrivalweweresittinginthe Colonel’s gun-room after dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa, while Hayter and I looked over his littlearmoryofEasternweapons.</s>“Bytheway,”saidhesuddenly,“IthinkI’lltake oneofthesepistolsupstairswithmeincasewehave analarm.” “Analarm!”saidI.</s>“Yes, we’ve had a scare in this part lately. Old Acton, who is one of our county magnates, had his house broken into last Monday. No great damage done,butthefellowsarestillatlarge.” “Noclue?”askedHolmes,cockinghiseyeatthe Colonel.</s>“None as yet. But the affair is a pretty one, one of our little country crimes, which must seem too smallforyourattention,Mr.Holmes,afterthisgreat internationalaffair.” Holmeswavedawaythecompliment,thoughhis smileshowedthatithadpleasedhim.</s>“Wasthereanyfeatureofinterest?” “I fancy not. The thieves ransacked the library and got very little for their pains. The whole place was turned upside down, drawers burst open, and pressesransacked,withtheresultthatanoddvolume of Pope’s Homer, two plated candlesticks, an ivory letter-weight, a small oak barometer, and a ball of twineareallthathavevanished.” “Whatanextraordinaryassortment!”Iexclaimed.</s>“Oh,thefellowsevidentlygrabbedholdofevery- thingtheycouldget.” Holmesgruntedfromthesofa.</s>“The county police ought to make something of that,”saidhe;“why,itissurelyobviousthat—” ButIheldupawarningfinger.</s>“You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven’s sake don’t get started on a new problem whenyournervesareallinshreds.” Holmesshruggedhisshoulderswithaglanceof comicresignationtowardstheColonel, andthetalk driftedawayintolessdangerouschannels.</s>Itwasdestined,however,thatallmyprofessional cautionshouldbewasted,fornextmorningtheprob- lemobtrudeditselfuponusinsuchawaythatitwas impossibletoignoreit,andourcountryvisittooka turnwhichneitherofuscouldhaveanticipated. We wereatbreakfastwhentheColonel’sbutlerrushedin withallhisproprietyshakenoutofhim.“Haveyouheardthenews,sir?”hegasped. “At theCunningham’ssir!” “Burglary!”criedtheColonel,withhiscoffee-cup inmid-air.</s>“Murder!” TheColonelwhistled. “ByJove!”saidhe. “Who’s killed,then? TheJ.P.orhisson?” “Neither,sir. ItwasWilliamthecoachman. Shot throughtheheart,sir,andneverspokeagain.” “Whoshothim,then?” “The burglar, sir. He was off like a shot and got cleanaway. He’djustbrokeinatthepantrywindow whenWilliamcameonhimandmethisendinsaving hismaster’sproperty.” “Whattime?” “Itwaslastnight,sir,somewhereabouttwelve.” “Ah, then, we’ll step over afterwards,” said the Colonel, coolly settling down to his breakfast again.</s>“It’sabaddishbusiness,”headdedwhenthebutler had gone; “he’s our leading man about here, is old Cunningham,andaverydecentfellowtoo. He’llbe cutupoverthis,forthemanhasbeeninhisservice for years and was a good servant. It’s evidently the samevillainswhobrokeintoActon’s.” “And stole that very singular collection,” said Holmes,thoughtfully.</s>“Precisely.” “Hum! It may prove the simplest matter in the world, but all the same at first glance this is just a little curious, is it not? A gang of burglars acting in the country might be expected to vary the scene of their operations, and not to crack two cribs in the same district within a few days. When you spoke last night of taking precautions I remember that it passedthroughmymindthatthiswasprobablythe last parish in England to which the thief or thieves wouldbelikelytoturntheirattention—whichshows thatIhavestillmuchtolearn.” “I fancy it’s some local practitioner,” said the Colonel. “In that case, of course, Acton’s and Cun- ningham’sarejusttheplaceshewouldgofor,since theyarefarthelargestabouthere.” “Andrichest?” “Well,theyoughttobe,butthey’vehadalawsuit for some years which has sucked the blood out of bothofthem,Ifancy. OldActonhassomeclaimon halfCunningham’sestate,andthelawyershavebeen atitwithbothhands.” “If it’s a local villain there should not be much difficultyinrunninghimdown,”saidHolmeswitha yawn. “Allright,Watson,Idon’tintendtomeddle.” “InspectorForrester,sir,”saidthebutler,throwing openthedoor.</s>The official, a smart, keen-faced young fellow, stepped into the room. “Good-morning, Colonel,” saidhe;“IhopeIdon’tintrude,butwehearthatMr.</s>HolmesofBakerStreetishere.” The Colonel waved his hand towards my friend, andtheInspectorbowed.</s>“Wethoughtthatperhapsyouwouldcaretostep across,Mr.Holmes.” “Thefatesareagainstyou,Watson,”saidhe,laugh- ing. “We were chatting about the matter when you camein,Inspector. Perhapsyoucanletushaveafew details.”Asheleanedbackinhischairinthefamiliar attitudeIknewthatthecasewashopeless.</s>“WehadnoclueintheActonaffair. Butherewe have plenty to go on, and there’s no doubt it is the samepartyineachcase. Themanwasseen.” “Ah!” “Yes,sir. Buthewasofflikeadeeraftertheshot thatkilledpoorWilliamKirwanwasfired. Mr.Cun- ninghamsawhimfromthebedroomwindow,andMr.</s>Alec Cunningham saw him from the back passage.</s>It was quarter to twelve when the alarm broke out.</s>Mr.Cunninghamhadjustgotintobed,andMr.Alec wassmokingapipeinhisdressing-gown. Theyboth heardWilliamthecoachmancallingforhelp,andMr.</s>Alecrandowntoseewhatwasthematter. Theback doorwasopen,andashecametothefootofthestairs he saw two men wrestling together outside. One of them fired a shot, the other dropped, and the mur- derer rushed across the garden and over the hedge.</s>Mr. Cunningham, looking out of his bedroom, saw thefellowashegainedtheroad,butlostsightofhim atonce. Mr.Alecstoppedtoseeifhecouldhelpthe dyingman,andsothevillaingotcleanaway. Beyond thefactthathewasamiddle-sizedmananddressed insomedarkstuff,wehavenopersonalclue;butwe aremakingenergeticinquiries,andifheisastranger weshallsoonfindhimout.” “WhatwasthisWilliamdoingthere? Didhesay anythingbeforehedied?” “Notaword. Helivesatthelodgewithhismother, andashewasaveryfaithfulfellowweimaginethat hewalkeduptothehousewiththeintentionofseeing that all was right there. Of course this Acton busi- ness has put every one on their guard. The robber musthavejustburstopenthedoor—thelockhasbeen forced—whenWilliamcameuponhim.”“Did William say anything to his mother before goingout?” “Sheisveryoldanddeaf,andwecangetnoinfor- mationfromher. Theshockhasmadeherhalf-witted, butIunderstandthatshewasneververybright. There isoneveryimportantcircumstance,however. Lookat this!” He took a small piece of torn paper from a note- bookandspreaditoutuponhisknee.</s>“This was found between the finger and thumb of the dead man. It appears to be a fragment torn from a larger sheet. You will observe that the hour mentioneduponitistheverytimeatwhichthepoor fellowmethisfate. Youseethathismurderermight havetorntherestofthesheetfromhimorhemight havetakenthisfragmentfromthemurderer. Itreads almostasthoughitwereanappointment.” Holmestookupthescrapofpaper,afacsimileof whichisherereproduced.</s>“Presumingthatitisanappointment,”continued theInspector,“itisofcourseaconceivabletheorythat thisWilliamKirwan—thoughhehadthereputation ofbeinganhonestman,mayhavebeeninleaguewith thethief. Hemayhavemethimthere,mayevenhave helpedhimtobreakinthedoor,andthentheymay havefallenoutbetweenthemselves.” “This writing is of extraordinary interest,” said Holmes,whohadbeenexaminingitwithintensecon- centration. “ThesearemuchdeeperwatersthanIhad thought.” He sank his head upon his hands, while theInspectorsmiledattheeffectwhichhiscasehad haduponthefamousLondonspecialist.</s>“Your last remark,” said Holmes, presently, “as tothepossibilityoftherebeinganunderstandingbe- tween the burglar and the servant, and this being a note of appointment from one to the other, is an in- geniousandnotentirelyimpossiblesupposition. But this writing opens up—” He sank his head into his hands again and remained for some minutes in the deepestthought. Whenheraisedhisfaceagain,Iwas surprisedtoseethathischeekwastingedwithcolor, andhiseyesasbrightasbeforehisillness. Hesprang tohisfeetwithallhisoldenergy.</s>“I’lltellyouwhat,”saidhe,“Ishouldliketohave aquietlittleglanceintothedetailsofthiscase. There is something in it which fascinates me extremely. If you will permit me, Colonel, I will leave my friend Watson and you, and I will step round with the In- spectortotestthetruthofoneortwolittlefanciesof mine. Iwillbewithyouagaininhalfanhour.” AnhourandhalfhadelapsedbeforetheInspector returnedalone.</s>“Mr.Holmesiswalkingupanddowninthefield outside,” said he. “He wants us all four to go up to thehousetogether.” “ToMr.Cunningham’s?” “Yes,sir.” “Whatfor?” The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t quiteknow,sir. Betweenourselves,IthinkMr.Holmes had not quite got over his illness yet. He’s been be- havingveryqueerly,andheisverymuchexcited.” “I don’t think you need alarm yourself,” said I.</s>“I have usually found that there was method in his madness.” “Somefolksmightsaytherewasmadnessinhis method,”mutteredtheInspector. “Buthe’sallonfire to start, Colonel, so we had best go out if you are ready.” We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his chin sunk upon his breast, and his hands thrustintohistrouserspockets.</s>“Themattergrowsininterest,”saidhe. “Watson, yourcountry-triphasbeenadistinctsuccess. Ihave hadacharmingmorning.” “You have been up to the scene of the crime, I understand,”saidtheColonel.</s>“Yes;theInspectorandIhavemadequitealittle reconnaissancetogether.” “Anysuccess?” “Well,wehaveseensomeveryinterestingthings.</s>I’ll tell you what we did as we walk. First of all, we saw the body of this unfortunate man. He certainly diedfromarevolverwoundasreported.” “Hadyoudoubtedit,then?” “Oh,itisaswelltotesteverything. Ourinspection wasnotwasted. WethenhadaninterviewwithMr.</s>Cunningham and his son, who were able to point out the exact spot where the murderer had broken through the garden-hedge in his flight. That was of greatinterest.” “Naturally.”“Thenwehadalookatthispoorfellow’smother.</s>We could get no information from her, however, as sheisveryoldandfeeble.” “Andwhatistheresultofyourinvestigations?” “The conviction thatthe crime is avery peculiar one. Perhaps our visit now may do something to makeitlessobscure. Ithinkthatwearebothagreed, Inspector, that the fragment of paper in the dead man’shand,bearing,asitdoes,theveryhourofhis deathwrittenuponit,isofextremeimportance.” “Itshouldgiveaclue,Mr.Holmes.” “Itdoesgiveaclue. Whoeverwrotethatnotewas themanwhobroughtWilliamKirwanoutofhisbed at that hour. But where is the rest of that sheet of paper?” “I examined the ground carefully in the hope of findingit,”saidtheInspector.</s>“It was torn out of the dead man’s hand. Why wassomeonesoanxioustogetpossessionofit? Be- cause it incriminated him. And what would he do with it? Thrust it into his pocket, most likely, never noticing that a corner of it had been left in the grip of the corpse. If we could get the rest of that sheet it is obvious that we should have gone a long way towardssolvingthemystery.” “Yes,buthowcanwegetatthecriminal’spocket beforewecatchthecriminal?” “Well, well, it was worth thinking over. Then thereisanotherobviouspoint. Thenotewassentto William. Themanwhowroteitcouldnothavetaken it;otherwise,ofcourse,hemighthavedeliveredhis own message by word of mouth. Who brought the note,then? Ordiditcomethroughthepost?” “I have made inquiries,” said the Inspector.</s>“William received a letter by the afternoon post yes- terday. Theenvelopewasdestroyedbyhim.” “Excellent!”criedHolmes,clappingtheInspector on the back. “You’ve seen the postman. It is a plea- suretoworkwithyou. Well,hereisthelodge,andif youwillcomeup,Colonel,Iwillshowyouthescene ofthecrime.” Wepassedtheprettycottagewherethemurdered manhadlived,andwalkedupanoak-linedavenueto thefineoldQueenAnnehouse,whichbearsthedate of Malplaquet upon the lintel of the door. Holmes andtheInspectorledusroundituntilwecametothe side gate, which is separated by a stretch of garden fromthehedgewhichlinestheroad. Aconstablewas standingatthekitchendoor.</s>“Throw the door open, officer,” said Holmes.</s>“Now, it was on those stairs that young Mr. Cun- ninghamstoodandsawthetwomenstrugglingjust whereweare. OldMr.Cunninghamwasatthatwin- dow—thesecondontheleft—andhesawthefellow getawayjusttotheleftofthatbush. Sodidtheson.</s>Theyarebothsureofitonaccountofthebush. Then Mr.Alecranoutandkneltbesidethewoundedman.</s>The ground is very hard, you see, and there are no markstoguideus.”Ashespoketwomencamedown thegardenpath,fromroundtheangleofthehouse.</s>Theonewasanelderlyman,withastrong,deep-lined, heavy-eyed face; the other a dashing young fellow, whose bright, smiling expression and showy dress wereinstrangecontrastwiththebusinesswhichhad broughtusthere.</s>“Still at it, then?” said he to Holmes. “I thought you Londoners were never at fault. You don’t seem tobesoveryquick,afterall.” “Ah,youmustgiveusalittletime,”saidHolmes good-humoredly.</s>“You’ll want it,” said young Alec Cunningham.</s>“Why,Idon’tseethatwehaveanyclueatall.” “There’sonlyone,”answeredtheInspector. “We thought that if we could only find—Good heavens, Mr.Holmes! Whatisthematter?” Mypoorfriend’sfacehadsuddenlyassumedthe most dreadful expression. His eyes rolled upwards, hisfeatureswrithedinagony,andwithasuppressed groanhedroppedonhisfaceupontheground. Hor- rifiedatthesuddennessandseverityoftheattack,we carriedhimintothekitchen, wherehelaybackina large chair, and breathed heavily for some minutes.</s>Finally,withashamefacedapologyforhisweakness, heroseoncemore.</s>“WatsonwouldtellyouthatIhaveonlyjustrecov- eredfromasevereillness,”heexplained. “Iamliable tothesesuddennervousattacks.” “Shall I send you home in my trap?” asked old Cunningham.</s>“Well,sinceIamhere,thereisonepointonwhich I should like to feel sure. We can very easily verify it.” “Whatwasit?” “Well, it seems to me that it is just possible that thearrivalofthispoorfellowWilliamwasnotbefore, butafter,theentranceoftheburglaryintothehouse.</s>You appear to take it for granted that, although the doorwasforced,therobbernevergotin.” “Ifancythatisquiteobvious,”saidMr.Cunning- ham, gravely. “Why, my son Alec had not yet goneto bed, and he would certainly have heard any one movingabout.” “Wherewashesitting?” “Iwassmokinginmydressing-room.” “Whichwindowisthat?” “Thelastontheleftnextmyfather’s.” “Bothofyourlampswerelit,ofcourse?” “Undoubtedly.” “Therearesomeverysingularpointshere,”said Holmes,smiling. “Isitnotextraordinarythatabur- glary—and a burglar who had had some previous experience—shoulddeliberatelybreakintoahouseat atimewhenhecouldseefromthelightsthattwoof thefamilywerestillafoot?” “Hemusthavebeenacoolhand.” “Well,ofcourse,ifthecasewerenotanoddone weshouldnothavebeendriventoaskyouforanex- planation,”saidyoungMr.Alec. “Butastoyourideas that the man had robbed the house before William tackledhim,Ithinkitamostabsurdnotion. Wouldn’t wehavefoundtheplacedisarranged,andmissedthe thingswhichhehadtaken?” “It depends on what the things were,” said Holmes. “You must remember that we are dealing with a burglar who is a very peculiar fellow, and who appears to work on lines of his own. Look, for example, at the queer lot of things which he took fromActon’s—whatwasit?—aballofstring,aletter- weight,andIdon’tknowwhatotheroddsandends.” “Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes,” saidoldCunningham. “Anythingwhichyouorthe Inspectormaysuggestwillmostcertainlybedone.” “In the first place,” said Holmes, “I should like youtoofferareward—comingfromyourself,forthe officialsmaytakealittletimebeforetheywouldagree upon the sum, and these things cannot be done too promptly. I have jotted down the form here, if you would not mind signing it. Fifty pound was quite enough,Ithought.” “Iwouldwillinglygivefivehundred,”saidtheJ.P., takingtheslipofpaperandthepencilwhichHolmes handedtohim. “Thisisnotquitecorrect,however,” headded,glancingoverthedocument.</s>“Iwroteitratherhurriedly.” “Youseeyoubegin,‘Whereas,ataboutaquarter to one on Tuesday morning an attempt was made,’ and so on. It was at a quarter to twelve, as a matter offact.” Iwaspainedatthemistake,forIknewhowkeenly Holmes would feel any slip of the kind. It was his specialty to be accurate as to fact, but his recent ill- nesshadshakenhim,andthisonelittleincidentwas enough to show me that he was still far from being himself. He was obviously embarrassed for an in- stant, while the Inspector raised his eyebrows, and AlecCunninghamburstintoalaugh. Theoldgentle- mancorrectedthemistake,however,andhandedthe paperbacktoHolmes.</s>“Get it printed as soon as possible,” he said; “I thinkyourideaisanexcellentone.” Holmesputtheslipofpapercarefullyawayinto hispocket-book.</s>“And now,” said he, “it really would be a good thing that we should all go over the house together andmakecertainthatthisrathererraticburglardid not,afterall,carryanythingawaywithhim.” Beforeentering,Holmesmadeanexaminationof thedoorwhichhadbeenforced. Itwasevidentthat a chisel or strong knife had been thrust in, and the lock forced back with it. We could see the marks in thewoodwhereithadbeenpushedin.</s>“Youdon’tusebars,then?”heasked.</s>“Wehaveneverfounditnecessary.” “Youdon’tkeepadog?” “Yes, but he is chained on the other side of the house.” “Whendotheservantsgotobed?” “Aboutten.” “IunderstandthatWilliamwasusuallyinbedalso atthathour.” “Yes.” “It is singular that on this particular night he should have been up. Now, I should be very glad ifyouwouldhavethekindnesstoshowusoverthe house,Mr.Cunningham.” Astone-flaggedpassage,withthekitchensbranch- ingawayfromit,ledbyawoodenstaircasedirectly to the first floor of the house. It came out upon the landing opposite to a second more ornamental stairwhichcameupfromthefronthall. Outofthis landing opened the drawing-room and several bed- rooms, including those of Mr. Cunningham and his son. Holmeswalkedslowly,takingkeennoteofthe architectureofthehouse. Icouldtellfromhisexpres- sion that he was on a hot scent, and yet I could not intheleastimagineinwhatdirectionhisinferences wereleadinghim.</s>“Mygoodsir,”saidMr.Cunninghamwithsome impatience,“thisissurelyveryunnecessary. Thatismyroomattheendofthestairs,andmyson’sisthe one beyond it. I leave it to your judgment whether it was possible for the thief to have come up here withoutdisturbingus.” “You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy,”saidthesonwitharathermalicioussmile.</s>“Still, I must ask you to humor me a little fur- ther. I should like, for example, to see how far the windowsofthebedroomscommandthefront. This, I understand is your son’s room”—he pushed open thedoor—“andthat,Ipresume,isthedressing-room inwhichhesatsmokingwhenthealarmwasgiven.</s>Where does the window of that look out to?” He stepped across the bedroom, pushed open the door, andglancedroundtheotherchamber.</s>“Ihopethatyouaresatisfiednow?”saidMr.Cun- ningham,tartly.</s>“Thankyou,IthinkIhaveseenallthatIwished.” “Then if it is really necessary we can go into my room.” “Ifitisnottoomuchtrouble.” TheJ.P.shruggedhisshoulders,andledtheway intohisownchamber,whichwasaplainlyfurnished and commonplace room. As we moved across it in the direction of the window, Holmes fell back until heandIwerethelastofthegroup. Nearthefootof thebedstoodadishoforangesandacarafeofwater.</s>As we passed it Holmes, to my unutterable aston- ishment,leanedoverinfrontofmeanddeliberately knocked the whole thing over. The glass smashed intoathousandpiecesandthefruitrolledaboutinto everycorneroftheroom.</s>“You’vedoneitnow,Watson,”saidhe,coolly. “A prettymessyou’vemadeofthecarpet.” I stooped in some confusion and began to pick upthefruit,understandingforsomereasonmycom- panion desired me to take the blame upon myself.</s>Theothersdidthesame,andsetthetableonitslegs again.</s>“Hullo!”criedtheInspector,“where’shegotto?” Holmeshaddisappeared.</s>“Waithereaninstant,”saidyoungAlecCunning- ham. “Thefellowisoffhishead,inmyopinion. Come withme,father,andseewherehehasgotto!” Theyrushedoutoftheroom,leavingtheInspector, theColonel,andmestaringateachother.</s>“’Ponmyword,IaminclinedtoagreewithMaster Alec,” said the official. “It may be the effect of this illness,butitseemstomethat—” Hiswordswerecutshortbyasuddenscreamof “Help! Help! Murder!” With a thrill I recognised thevoiceasthatofmyfriend. Irushedmadlyfrom the room on to the landing. The cries, which had sunkdownintoahoarse,inarticulateshouting,came from the room which we had first visited. I dashed in, and on into the dressing-room beyond. The two Cunninghamswerebendingovertheprostratefigure ofSherlockHolmes,theyoungerclutchinghisthroat withbothhands,whiletheelderseemedtobetwist- ingoneofhiswrists. Inaninstantthethreeofushad tornthemawayfromhim,andHolmesstaggeredto hisfeet,verypaleandevidentlygreatlyexhausted.</s>“Arrestthesemen,Inspector,”hegasped.</s>“Onwhatcharge?” “Thatofmurderingtheircoachman,WilliamKir- wan.” TheInspectorstaredabouthiminbewilderment.</s>“Oh, come now, Mr. Holmes,” said he at last, “I’m sureyoudon’treallymeanto—” “Tut, man, look at their faces!” cried Holmes, curtly.</s>Never,certainly,haveIseenaplainerconfession of guilt upon human countenances. The older man seemed numbed and dazed with a heavy, sullen ex- pressionuponhisstrongly-markedface. Theson,on theotherhand,haddroppedallthatjaunty,dashing style which had characterized him, and the ferocity of a dangerous wild beast gleamed in his dark eyes anddistortedhishandsomefeatures. TheInspector said nothing, but, stepping to the door, he blew his whistle. Twoofhisconstablescameatthecall.</s>“Ihavenoalternative,Mr.Cunningham,”saidhe.</s>“Itrustthatthismayallprovetobeanabsurdmistake, butyoucanseethat—Ah,wouldyou? Dropit!”He struck out with his hand, and a revolver which the youngermanwasintheactofcockingclattereddown uponthefloor.</s>“Keepthat,”saidHolmes,quietlyputtinghisfoot uponit;“youwillfinditusefulatthetrial. Butthisis whatwereallywanted.”Heheldupalittlecrumpled pieceofpaper.</s>“Theremainderofthesheet!”criedtheInspector.</s>“Precisely.” “Andwherewasit?” “WhereIwassureitmustbe. I’llmakethewhole matter clear to you presently. I think, Colonel, that youandWatsonmightreturnnow,andIwillbewith you again in an hour at the furthest. The Inspector andImusthaveawordwiththeprisoners,butyou willcertainlyseemebackatluncheontime.”Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one o’clock he rejoined us in the Colonel’s smoking-room. He was accompanied by a little el- derly gentleman, who was introduced to me as the Mr. Acton whose house had been the scene of the originalburglary.</s>“IwishedMr.ActontobepresentwhileIdemon- strated this small matter to you,” said Holmes, “for itisnaturalthatheshouldtakeakeeninterestinthe details. Iamafraid,mydearColonel,thatyoumust regretthehourthatyoutookinsuchastormypetrel asIam.” “Onthecontrary,”answeredtheColonel,warmly, “Iconsideritthegreatestprivilegetohavebeenper- mittedtostudyyourmethodsofworking. Iconfess that they quite surpass my expectations, and that I am utterly unable to account for your result. I have notyetseenthevestigeofaclue.” “Iamafraidthatmyexplanationmaydisillusion youbutithasalwaysbeenmyhabittohidenoneof mymethods,eitherfrommyfriendWatsonorfrom anyonewhomighttakeanintelligentinterestinthem.</s>But,first,asIamrathershakenbytheknockingabout whichIhadinthedressing-room,IthinkthatIshall help myself to a dash of your brandy, Colonel. My strengthhadbeenrathertriedoflate.” “I trust that you had no more of those nervous attacks.” SherlockHolmeslaughedheartily. “Wewillcome to that in its turn,” said he. “I will lay an account ofthecasebeforeyouinitsdueorder,showingyou thevariouspointswhichguidedmeinmydecision.</s>Pray interrupt me if there is any inference which is notperfectlycleartoyou.</s>“Itisofthehighestimportanceintheartofdetec- tiontobeabletorecognize,outofanumberoffacts, whichareincidentalandwhichvital. Otherwiseyour energy and attention must be dissipated instead of being concentrated. Now, in this case there was not theslightestdoubtinmymindfromthefirstthatthe key of the whole matter must be looked for in the scrapofpaperinthedeadman’shand.</s>“Before going into this, I would draw your at- tentiontothefactthat,ifAlecCunningham’snarra- tive was correct, and if the assailant, after shooting WilliamKirwan,hadinstantlyfled,thenitobviously could not be he who tore the paper from the dead man’s hand. But if it was not he, it must have been Alec Cunningham himself, for by the time that the oldmanhaddescendedseveralservantswereupon thescene. Thepointisasimpleone,buttheInspec- tor had overlooked it because he had started with thesuppositionthatthesecountymagnateshadhad nothingtodowiththematter. Now,Imakeapointof neverhavinganyprejudices,andoffollowingdocilely wherever fact may lead me, and so, in the very first stage of the investigation, I found myself looking a little askance at the part which had been played by Mr.AlecCunningham.</s>“And now I made a very careful examination of thecornerofpaperwhichtheInspectorhadsubmit- tedtous. Itwasatoncecleartomethatitformedpart of a very remarkable document. Here it is. Do you notnowobservedsomethingverysuggestiveabout it?” “Ithasaveryirregularlook,”saidtheColonel.</s>“Mydearsir,”criedHolmes,“therecannotbethe least doubt in the world that it has been written by two persons doing alternate words. When I draw yourattentiontothestrongt’sof‘at’and‘to’,andask youtocomparethemwiththeweakonesof‘quarter’ and‘twelve,’youwillinstantlyrecognizethefact. A verybriefanalysisofthesefourwordswouldenable youtosaywiththeutmostconfidencethatthe‘learn’ andthe‘maybe’arewritteninthestrongerhand,and the‘what’intheweaker.” “By Jove, it’s as clear as day!” cried the Colonel.</s>“Whyonearthshouldtwomenwritealetterinsuch afashion?” “Obviouslythebusinesswasabadone,andone ofthemenwhodistrustedtheotherwasdetermined that,whateverwasdone,eachshouldhaveanequal hand in it. Now, of the two men, it is clear that the onewhowrotethe‘at’and‘to’wastheringleader.” “Howdoyougetatthat?” “We might deduce it from the mere character of the one hand as compared with the other. But we have more assured reasons than that for supposing it. Ifyouexaminethisscrapwithattentionyouwill cometotheconclusionthatthemanwiththestronger handwroteallhiswordsfirst,leavingblanksforthe other to fill up. These blanks were not always suf- ficient, and you can see that the second man had a squeezetofithis‘quarter’inbetweenthe‘at’andthe ‘to,’showingthatthelatterwerealreadywritten. The manwhowroteallhiswordsfirstisundoubtedlythe manwhoplannedtheaffair.” “Excellent!”criedMr.Acton.</s>“But very superficial,” said Holmes. “We come now,however,toapointwhichisofimportance. Youmaynotbeawarethatthedeductionofaman’sage from his writing is one which has been brought to considerable accuracy by experts. In normal cases one can place a man in his true decade with tolera- bleconfidence. Isaynormalcases,becauseill-health and physical weakness reproduce the signs of old age, even when the invalid is a youth. In this case, lookingatthebold,stronghandoftheone,andthe ratherbroken-backedappearanceoftheother,which stillretainsitslegibilityalthoughthet’shavebegun to lose their crossing, we can say that the one was a young man and the other was advanced in years withoutbeingpositivelydecrepit.” “Excellent!”criedMr.Actonagain.</s>“There is a further point, however, which is sub- tler and of greater interest. There is something in commonbetween thesehands. They belongto men who are blood-relatives. It may be most obvious to youintheGreeke’s,buttometherearemanysmall pointswhichindicatethesamething. Ihavenodoubt atallthatafamilymannerismcanbetracedinthese twospecimensofwriting. Iamonly,ofcourse,giving you the leading results now of my examination of thepaper. Thereweretwenty-threeotherdeductions which would be of more interest to experts than to you. Theyalltendedtodeepentheimpressionupon mymindthattheCunninghams,fatherandson,had writtenthisletter.</s>“Having got so far, my next step was, of course, to examine into the details of the crime, and to see howfartheywouldhelpus. Iwentuptothehouse with the Inspector, and saw all that was to be seen.</s>The wound upon the dead man was, as I was able to determine with absolute confidence, fired from a revolveratthedistanceofsomethingoverfouryards.</s>Therewasnopowder-blackeningontheclothes. Evi- dently,therefore,AlecCunninghamhadliedwhenhe saidthatthetwomenwerestrugglingwhentheshot wasfired. Again,bothfatherandsonagreedastothe place where the man escaped into the road. At that point,however,asithappens,thereisabroadishditch, moistatthebottom. Astherewerenoindicationsof bootmarksaboutthisditch,Iwasabsolutelysurenot onlythattheCunninghamshadagainlied, butthat there had never been any unknown man upon the sceneatall.</s>“And now I have to consider the motive of this singular crime. To get at this, I endeavored first of alltosolvethereasonoftheoriginalburglaryatMr.</s>Acton’s. I understood, from something which the Colonel told us, that a lawsuit had been going on between you, Mr. Acton, and the Cunninghams. Of course,itinstantlyoccurredtomethattheyhadbro- kenintoyourlibrarywiththeintentionofgettingat somedocumentwhichmightbeofimportanceinthe case.” “Preciselyso,”saidMr.Acton. “Therecanbeno possibledoubtastotheirintentions. Ihavetheclear- estclaimuponhalfoftheirpresentestate,andifthey couldhavefoundasinglepaper—which,fortunately, was in the strong-box of my solicitors—they would undoubtedlyhavecrippledourcase.” “Thereyouare,”saidHolmes,smiling. “Itwasa dangerous,recklessattempt,inwhichIseemtotrace the influence of young Alec. Having found nothing theytriedtodivertsuspicionbymakingitappearto be an ordinary burglary, to which end they carried off whatever they could lay their hands upon. That isallclearenough,buttherewasmuchthatwasstill obscure. WhatIwantedaboveallwastogetthemiss- ingpartofthatnote. IwascertainthatAlechadtorn itoutofthedeadman’shand,andalmostcertainthat hemusthavethrustitintothepocketofhisdressing- gown. Where else could he have put it? The only questionwaswhetheritwasstillthere. Itwasworth an effort to find out, and for that object we all went uptothehouse.</s>“The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember,outsidethekitchendoor. Itwas,ofcourse, of the very first importance that they should not be reminded of the existence of this paper, otherwise theywouldnaturallydestroyitwithoutdelay. TheIn- spectorwasabouttotellthemtheimportancewhich weattachedtoitwhen,bytheluckiestchanceinthe world,Itumbleddowninasortoffitandsochanged theconversation.” “Goodheavens!”criedtheColonel,laughing,“do you mean to say all our sympathy was wasted and yourfitanimposture?” “Speakingprofessionally,itwasadmirablydone,” cried I, looking in amazement at this man who was foreverconfoundingmewithsomenewphaseofhis astuteness.</s>“Itisanartwhichisoftenuseful,”saidhe. “When IrecoveredImanaged,byadevicewhichhadperhaps somelittlemeritofingenuity,togetoldCunningham towritetheword‘twelve,’sothatImightcompareit withthe‘twelve’uponthepaper.” “Oh,whatanassIhavebeen!”Iexclaimed.</s>“I could see that you were commiserating with me over my weakness,” said Holmes, laughing. “I wassorrytocauseyouthesympatheticpainwhichI know that you felt. We then went upstairs together,andhavingenteredtheroomandseenthedressing- gown hanging up behind the door, I contrived, by upsettingatable,toengagetheirattentionforthemo- ment,andslippedbacktoexaminethepockets. Ihad hardlygotthepaper,however—whichwas,asIhad expected, in one of them—when the two Cunning- hams were on me, and would, I verily believe, have murderedmethenandtherebutforyourpromptand friendlyaid. Asitis,Ifeelthatyoungman’sgripon mythroatnow,andthefatherhastwistedmywrist round in the effort to get the paper out of my hand.</s>TheysawthatImustknowallaboutit,yousee,and thesuddenchangefromabsolutesecuritytocomplete despairmadethemperfectlydesperate.</s>“I had a little talk with old Cunningham after- wardsastothemotiveofthecrime. Hewastractable enough,thoughhissonwasaperfectdemon,ready to blow out his own or anybody else’s brains if he could have got to his revolver. When Cunningham saw that the case against him was so strong he lost all heart and made a clean breast of everything. It seemsthatWilliamhadsecretlyfollowedhistwomas- ters on the night when they made their raid upon Mr.Acton’s,andhavingthusgotthemintohispower, proceeded,underthreatsofexposure,tolevyblack- mailuponthem. Mr.Alec,however,wasadangerous mantoplaygamesofthatsortwith. Itwasastroke of positive genius on his part to see in the burglary scare which was convulsing the country side an op- portunityofplausiblygettingridofthemanwhom he feared. William was decoyed up and shot, and had they only got the whole of the note and paid a little more attention to detail in the accessories, it is very possible that suspicion might never have been aroused.” “Andthenote?”Iasked.</s>Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper be- foreus.</s>“ItisverymuchthesortofthingthatIexpected,” said he. “Of course, we do not yet know what the relationsmayhavebeenbetweenAlecCunningham, William Kirwan, and Annie Morrison. The results shows that the trap was skillfully baited. I am sure that you cannot fail to be delighted with the traces of heredity shown in the p’s and in the tails of the g’s. Theabsenceofthei-dotsintheoldman’swriting isalsomostcharacteristic. Watson,Ithinkourquiet rest in the country has been a distinct success, and I shall certainly return much invigorated to Baker Streetto-morrow.”ne summer night, a few months after my marriage, I was seated by my own hearth smoking a last pipe and nodding over a O novel, for my day’s work had been an ex- hausting one. My wife had already gone upstairs, and the sound of the locking of the hall door some timebeforetoldmethattheservantshadalsoretired.</s>I had risen from my seat and was knocking out the ashesofmypipewhenIsuddenlyheardtheclangof thebell.</s>I looked at the clock. It was a quarter to twelve.</s>This could not be a visitor at so late an hour. A pa- tient,evidently,andpossiblyanall-nightsitting. With a wry face I went out into the hall and opened the door. To my astonishment it was Sherlock Holmes whostooduponmystep.</s>“Ah,Watson,”saidhe,“IhopedthatImightnot betoolatetocatchyou.” “Mydearfellow,praycomein.” “You look surprised, and no wonder! Relieved, too,Ifancy! Hum! YoustillsmoketheArcadiamix- tureofyourbachelordaysthen! There’snomistaking that fluffy ash upon your coat. It’s easy to tell that youhavebeenaccustomedtowearauniform,Watson.</s>You’ll never pass as a pure-bred civilian as long as youkeepthathabitofcarryingyourhandkerchiefin yoursleeve. Couldyouputmeuptonight?” “Withpleasure.” “Youtoldmethatyouhadbachelorquartersfor one,andIseethatyouhavenogentlemanvisitorat present. Yourhat-standproclaimsasmuch.” “Ishallbedelightedifyouwillstay.” “Thankyou. I’llfillthevacantpegthen. Sorryto seethatyou’vehadtheBritishworkmaninthehouse.</s>He’satokenofevil. Notthedrains,Ihope?” “No,thegas.” “Ah! He has left two nail-marks from his boot uponyourlinoleumjustwherethelightstrikesit. No, thank you, I had some supper at Waterloo, but I’ll smokeapipewithyouwithpleasure.” I handed him my pouch, and he seated himself oppositetomeandsmokedforsometimeinsilence.</s>Iwaswellawarethatnothingbutbusinessofimpor- tancewouldhavebroughthimtomeatsuchanhour, soIwaitedpatientlyuntilheshouldcomeroundto it.</s>“Iseethatyouareprofessionallyratherbusyjust now,”saidhe,glancingverykeenlyacrossatme.</s>“Yes, I’ve had a busy day,” I answered. “It may seemveryfoolishinyoureyes,”Iadded,“butreallyI don’tknowhowyoudeducedit.” Holmeschuckledtohimself.</s>“Ihavetheadvantageofknowingyourhabits,my dearWatson,”saidhe. “Whenyourroundisashort one you walk, and when it is a long one you use a hansom. AsIperceivethatyourboots,althoughused, arebynomeansdirty,Icannotdoubtthatyouareat presentbusyenoughtojustifythehansom.” “Excellent!”Icried.</s>“Elementary,”saidhe. “Itisoneofthoseinstances wherethereasonercanproduceaneffectwhichseems remarkable to his neighbor, because the latter has missed the one little point which is the basis of the deduction. The same may be said, my dear fellow, fortheeffectofsomeoftheselittlesketchesofyours, whichisentirelymeretricious,dependingasitdoes upon your retaining in your own hands some fac- torsintheproblemwhichareneverimpartedtothe reader. Now,atpresentIaminthepositionofthese samereaders,forIholdinthishandseveralthreads ofoneofthestrangestcaseswhicheverperplexeda man’sbrain,andyetIlacktheoneortwowhichare needful to complete my theory. But I’ll have them, Watson,I’llhavethem!”Hiseyeskindledandaslight flushsprangintohisthincheeks. Foraninstantthe veilhadlifteduponhiskeen,intensenature,butfor an instant only. When I glanced again his face had resumedthatred-Indiancomposurewhichhadmade somanyregardhimasamachineratherthanaman.</s>“Theproblempresentsfeaturesofinterest,”said he. “I may even say exceptional features of inter- est. I have already looked into the matter, and have come,asIthink,withinsightofmysolution. Ifyou could accompany me in that last step you might be ofconsiderableservicetome.” “Ishouldbedelighted.” “CouldyougoasfarasAldershotto-morrow?” “IhavenodoubtJacksonwouldtakemypractice.” “Very good. I want to start by the 11.10 from Waterloo.” “Thatwouldgivemetime.” “Then,ifyouarenottoosleepy,Iwillgiveyoua sketchofwhathashappened,andofwhatremainsto bedone.” “Iwassleepybeforeyoucame. Iamquitewakeful now.”“Iwillcompressthestoryasfarasmaybedone withoutomittinganythingvitaltothecase. Itiscon- ceivablethatyoumayevenhavereadsomeaccount of the matter. It is the supposed murder of Colonel Barclay,oftheRoyalMunsters,atAldershot,whichI aminvestigating.” “Ihaveheardnothingofit.” “It has not excited much attention yet, except lo- cally. Thefactsareonlytwodaysold. Brieflytheyare these: “TheRoyalMunstersis,asyouknow,oneofthe most famous Irish regiments in the British army. It didwondersbothintheCrimeaandtheMutiny,and has since that time distinguished itself upon every possibleoccasion. ItwascommandeduptoMonday nightbyJamesBarclay,agallantveteran,whostarted asafullprivate,wasraisedtocommissionedrankfor hisbraveryatthetimeoftheMutiny,andsolivedto commandtheregimentinwhichhehadoncecarried amusket.</s>“Colonel Barclay had married at the time when hewasasergeant,andhiswife,whosemaidenname wasMissNancyDevoy,wasthedaughterofaformer color-sergeantinthesamecorps. Therewas,therefore, as can be imagined, some little social friction when the young couple (for they were still young) found themselvesintheirnewsurroundings. Theyappear, however, to have quickly adapted themselves, and Mrs.Barclayhasalways,Iunderstand,beenaspop- ular with the ladies of the regiment as her husband waswithhisbrotherofficers. Imayaddthatshewas a woman of great beauty, and that even now, when shehasbeenmarriedforupwardsofthirtyyears,she isstillofastrikingandqueenlyappearance.</s>“ColonelBarclay’sfamilylifeappearstohavebeen a uniformly happy one. Major Murphy, to whom I owe most of my facts, assures me that he has never heardofanymisunderstandingbetweenthepair. On thewhole,hethinksthatBarclay’sdevotiontohiswife wasgreaterthanhiswife’stoBarclay. Hewasacutely uneasy if he were absent from her for a day. She, ontheotherhand,thoughdevotedandfaithful,was lessobtrusivelyaffectionate. Buttheywereregarded intheregimentastheverymodelofamiddle-aged couple. Therewasabsolutelynothingintheirmutual relationstopreparepeopleforthetragedywhichwas tofollow.</s>“ColonelBarclayhimselfseemstohavehadsome singular traits in his character. He was a dashing, jovial old solder in his usual mood, but there were occasionsonwhichheseemedtoshowhimselfcapa- bleofconsiderableviolenceandvindictiveness. This side of his nature, however, appears never to have been turned towards his wife. Another fact, which had struck Major Murphy and three out of five of the other officers with whom I conversed, was the singularsortofdepressionwhichcameuponhimat times. Asthemajorexpressedit,thesmilehadoften been struck from his mouth, as if by some invisible hand,whenhehasbeenjoiningthegaietiesandchaff ofthe mess-table. For dayson end, whenthe mood wasonhim,hehasbeensunkinthedeepestgloom.</s>Thisandacertaintingeofsuperstitionweretheonly unusual traits in his character which his brother of- ficers had observed. The latter peculiarity took the form of a dislike to being left alone, especially after dark. Thispuerilefeatureinanaturewhichwascon- spicuously manly had often given rise to comment andconjecture.</s>“ThefirstbattalionoftheRoyalMunsters(which istheold117th)hasbeenstationedatAldershotfor someyears. Themarriedofficersliveoutofbarracks, and the Colonel has during all this time occupied a villacalledLachine,abouthalfamilefromthenorth camp. Thehousestandsinitsowngrounds,butthe westsideofitisnotmorethanthirtyyardsfromthe high-road. Acoachmanandtwomaidsformthestaff of servants. These with their master and mistress werethesoleoccupantsofLachine, fortheBarclays had no children, nor was it usual for them to have residentvisitors.</s>“NowfortheeventsatLachinebetweennineand tenontheeveningoflastMonday.</s>“Mrs. Barclay was, it appears, a member of the Roman Catholic Church, and had interested herself very much in the establishment of the Guild of St.</s>George, which was formed in connection with the WattStreetChapelforthepurposeofsupplyingthe poor with cast-off clothing. A meeting of the Guild hadbeenheldthateveningateight,andMrs.Barclay had hurried over her dinner in order to be present at it. When leaving the house she was heard by the coachmantomakesomecommonplaceremarktoher husband,andtoassurehimthatshewouldbeback beforeverylong. ShethencalledforMissMorrison, ayoungladywholivesinthenextvilla,andthetwo wentofftogethertotheirmeeting. Itlastedfortymin- utes,andataquarter-pastnineMrs.Barclayreturned home, having left Miss Morrison at her door as she passed.</s>“Thereisaroomwhichisusedasamorning-room atLachine. Thisfacestheroadandopensbyalargeglassfolding-doorontothelawn. Thelawnisthirty yards across, and is only divided from the highway by a low wall with an iron rail above it. It was into this room that Mrs. Barclay went upon her return.</s>Theblindswerenotdown,fortheroomwasseldom used in the evening, but Mrs. Barclay herself lit the lampandthenrangthebell,askingJaneStewart,the house-maid, to bring her a cup of tea, which was quite contrary to her usual habits. The Colonel had beensittinginthedining-room,buthearingthathis wifehadreturnedhejoinedherinthemorning-room.</s>Thecoachmansawhimcrossthehallandenterit. He wasneverseenagainalive.</s>“The tea which had been ordered was brought up at the end of ten minutes; but the maid, as she approachedthedoor,wassurprisedtohearthevoices ofhermasterandmistressinfuriousaltercation. She knocked without receiving any answer, and even turned the handle, but only to find that the door was locked upon the inside. Naturally enough she randowntotellthecook,andthetwowomenwith the coachman came up into the hall and listened to the dispute which was still raging. They all agreed that only two voices were to be heard, those of Bar- clayandofhiswife. Barclay’sremarksweresubdued andabrupt,sothatnoneofthemwereaudibletothe listeners. The lady’s, on the other hand, were most bitter,andwhensheraisedhervoicecouldbeplainly heard. ‘You coward!’ she repeated over and over again. ‘What can be done now? What can be done now? Give me back my life. I will never so much asbreathethesameairwithyouagain! Youcoward! YouCoward!’ Thosewerescrapsofherconversation, endingina suddendreadfulcryintheman’svoice, withacrash,andapiercingscreamfromthewoman.</s>Convincedthatsometragedyhadoccurred,thecoach- manrushedtothedoorandstrovetoforceit,while screamafterscreamissuedfromwithin. Hewasun- able,however,tomakehiswayin,andthemaidswere toodistractedwithfeartobeofanyassistancetohim.</s>A sudden thought struck him, however, and he ran through the hall door and round to the lawn upon which the long French windows open. One side of thewindowwasopen,whichIunderstandwasquite usual in the summer-time, and he passed without difficulty into the room. His mistress had ceased to scream and was stretched insensible upon a couch, whilewithhisfeettiltedoverthesideofanarm-chair, andhisheaduponthegroundnearthecornerofthe fender,waslyingtheunfortunatesoldierstonedead inapoolofhisownblood.</s>“Naturally,thecoachman’sfirstthought,onfind- ing that he could do nothing for his master, was to openthedoor. Buthereanunexpectedandsingular difficultypresenteditself. Thekeywasnotinthein- nersideofthedoor,norcouldhefinditanywherein theroom. Hewentoutagain,therefore,throughthe window,andhavingobtainedthehelpofapoliceman andofamedicalman,hereturned. Thelady,against whom naturally the strongest suspicion rested, was removed to her room, still in a state of insensibility.</s>The Colonel’s body was then placed upon the sofa, and a careful examination made of the scene of the tragedy.</s>“The injury from which the unfortunate veteran was suffering was found to be a jagged cut some two inches long at the back part of his head, which had evidently been caused by a violent blow from a blunt weapon. Nor was it difficult to guess what thatweaponmayhavebeen. Uponthefloor,closeto the body, was lying a singular club of hard carved wood with a bone handle. The Colonel possessed a varied collection of weapons brought from the dif- ferent countries in which he had fought, and it is conjectured by the police that his club was among histrophies. Theservantsdenyhavingseenitbefore, butamongthenumerouscuriositiesinthehouseitis possiblethatitmayhavebeenoverlooked. Nothing elseofimportancewasdiscoveredintheroombythe police, save the inexplicable fact that neither upon Mrs.Barclay’spersonnoruponthatofthevictimnor in any part of the room was the missing key to be found. The door had eventually to be opened by a locksmithfromAldershot.</s>“Thatwasthestateofthings,Watson,whenupon theTuesdaymorningI,attherequestofMajorMur- phy, went down to Aldershot to supplement the ef- fortsofthepolice. Ithinkthatyouwillacknowledge thattheproblemwasalreadyoneofinterest,butmy observationssoonmademerealizethatitwasintruth much more extraordinary than would at first sight appear.</s>“Before examining the room I cross-questioned theservants,butonlysucceededinelicitingthefacts whichIhavealreadystated. Oneotherdetailofinter- estwasrememberedbyJaneStewart,thehousemaid.</s>Youwillrememberthatonhearingthesoundofthe quarrel she descended and returned with the other servants. Onthatfirstoccasion,whenshewasalone, she says that the voices of her master and mistress weresunksolowthatshecouldhearhardlyanything, andjudgedbytheirtonesratherthantheirwordsthat they had fallen out. On my pressing her, however,she remembered that she heard the word David ut- tered twice by the lady. The point is of the utmost importance as guiding us towards the reason of the suddenquarrel. TheColonel’sname,youremember, wasJames.</s>“Therewasonethinginthecasewhichhadmade the deepest impression both upon the servants and the police. This was the contortion of the Colonel’s face. It had set, according to their account, into the most dreadful expression of fear and horror which ahumancountenanceiscapableofassuming. More thanonepersonfaintedatthemeresightofhim,so terrible was the effect. It was quite certain that he hadforeseenhisfate,andthatithadcausedhimthe utmosthorror. This,ofcourse,fittedinwellenough withthepolicetheory,iftheColonelcouldhaveseen hiswifemakingamurderousattackuponhim. Nor was the fact of the wound being on the back of his headafatalobjectiontothis,ashemighthaveturned toavoidtheblow. Noinformationcouldbegotfrom theladyherself,whowastemporarilyinsanefroman acuteattackofbrain-fever.</s>“From the police I learned that Miss Morrison, whoyourememberwentoutthateveningwithMrs.</s>Barclay,deniedhavinganyknowledgeofwhatitwas which had caused the ill-humor in which her com- panionhadreturned.</s>“Having gathered these facts, Watson, I smoked several pipes over them, trying to separate those which were crucial from others which were merely incidental. Therecouldbenoquestionthatthemost distinctive and suggestive point in the case was the singulardisappearanceofthedoor-key. Amostcare- fulsearchhadfailedtodiscoveritintheroom. There- foreitmusthavebeentakenfromit. Butneitherthe Colonel nor the Colonel’s wife could have taken it.</s>That was perfectly clear. Therefore a third person must have entered the room. And that third person could only have come in through the window. It seemedtomethatacarefulexaminationoftheroom and the lawn might possibly reveal some traces of this mysterious individual. You know my methods, Watson. TherewasnotoneofthemwhichIdidnot applytotheinquiry. Anditendedbymydiscovering traces,butverydifferentonesfromthosewhichIhad expected. Therehadbeenamanintheroom,andhe had crossed the lawn coming from the road. I was abletoobtainfiveveryclearimpressionsofhisfoot- marks: oneintheroadwayitself,atthepointwhere he had climbed the low wall, two on the lawn, and twoveryfaintonesuponthestainedboardsnearthe window where he had entered. He had apparently rushedacrossthelawn,forhistoe-marksweremuch deeper than his heels. But it was not the man who surprisedme. Itwashiscompanion.” “Hiscompanion!” Holmespulledalargesheetoftissue-paperoutof hispocketandcarefullyunfoldedituponhisknee.</s>“Whatdoyoumakeofthat?”heasked.</s>The paper was covered with the tracings of the foot-marks of some small animal. It had five well- marked foot-pads, an indication of long nails, and thewholeprintmightbenearlyaslargeasadessert- spoon.</s>“It’sadog,”saidI.</s>“Didyoueverhearofadogrunningupacurtain? Ifounddistincttracesthatthiscreaturehaddoneso.” “Amonkey,then?” “Butitisnottheprintofamonkey.” “Whatcanitbe,then?” “Neitherdognorcatnormonkeynoranycreature thatwearefamiliarwith. Ihavetriedtoreconstructit fromthemeasurements. Herearefourprintswhere thebeasthasbeenstandingmotionless. Youseethat itisnolessthanfifteeninchesfromfore-foottohind.</s>Addtothatthelengthofneckandhead,andyouget acreaturenotmuchlessthantwofeetlong—probably moreifthereisanytail. Butnowobservethisother measurement. Theanimalhasbeenmoving,andwe have the length of its stride. In each case it is only aboutthreeinches. Youhaveanindication,yousee, ofalongbodywithveryshortlegsattachedtoit. It has not been considerate enough to leave any of its hairbehindit. ButitsgeneralshapemustbewhatI haveindicated,anditcanrunupacurtain,anditis carnivorous.” “Howdoyoudeducethat?” “Because it ran up the curtain. A canary’s cage washanginginthewindow,anditsaimseemstohave beentogetatthebird.” “Thenwhatwasthebeast?” “Ah, if I could give it a name it might go a long way towards solving the case. On the whole, it wasprobablysomecreatureoftheweaselandstoat tribe—andyetitislargerthananyofthesethatIhave seen.” “Butwhathadittodowiththecrime?” “That,also,isstillobscure. Butwehavelearneda gooddeal,youperceive. Weknowthatamanstood in the road looking at the quarrel between the Bar- clays—theblindswereupandtheroomlighted. We know, also, that he ran across the lawn, entered theroom, accompanied by a strange animal, and that he either struck the Colonel or, as is equally possi- ble, that the Colonel fell down from sheer fright at the sight of him, and cut his head on the corner of thefender. Finally,wehavethecuriousfactthatthe intrudercarriedawaythekeywithhimwhenheleft.” “Your discoveries seem to have left the business moreobscurethatitwasbefore,”saidI.</s>“Quiteso. Theyundoubtedlyshowedthattheaf- fairwasmuchdeeperthanwasatfirstconjectured. I thoughtthematterover,andIcametotheconclusion that I must approach the case from another aspect.</s>Butreally,Watson,Iamkeepingyouup,andImight justaswelltellyouallthisonourwaytoAldershot to-morrow.” “Thankyou,youhavegonerathertoofartostop.” “ItisquitecertainthatwhenMrs.Barclayleftthe houseathalf-pastsevenshewasongoodtermswith her husband. She was never, as I think I have said, ostentatiouslyaffectionate,butshewasheardbythe coachmanchattingwiththeColonelinafriendlyfash- ion. Now, it was equally certain that, immediately on her return, she had gone to the room in which she was least likely to see her husband, had flown toteaasanagitatedwomanwill,andfinally,onhis comingintoher,hadbrokenintoviolentrecrimina- tions. Therefore something had occurred between seven-thirtyandnineo’clockwhichhadcompletely alteredherfeelingstowardshim. ButMissMorrison hadbeenwithherduringthewholeofthathourand a half. It was absolutely certain, therefore, in spite of her denial, that she must know something of the matter.</s>“Myfirstconjecturewas,thatpossiblytherehad beensomepassagesbetweenthisyoungladyandthe oldsoldier, whichtheformerhadnowconfessedto the wife. That would account for the angry return, and also for the girl’s denial that anything had oc- curred. Nor would it be entirely incompatible with most of the words overhead. But there was the ref- erence to David, and there was the known affection of the Colonel for his wife, to weigh against it, to saynothingofthetragicintrusionofthisotherman, whichmight,ofcourse,beentirelydisconnectedwith what hadgone before. It was not easyto pick one’s steps, but, on the whole, I was inclined to dismiss the idea that there had been anything between the ColonelandMissMorrison,butmorethanevercon- vinced that the young lady held the clue as to what it was which had turned Mrs. Barclay to hatred of her husband. I took the obvious course, therefore, of calling upon Miss M., of explaining to her that I was perfectly certain that she held the facts in her possession,andofassuringherthatherfriend,Mrs.</s>Barclay,mightfindherselfinthedockuponacapital chargeunlessthematterwereclearedup.</s>“Miss Morrison is a little ethereal slip of a girl, with timid eyes and blond hair, but I found her by nomeanswantinginshrewdnessandcommon-sense.</s>She sat thinking for some time after I had spoken, andthen,turningtomewithabriskairofresolution, she broke into a remarkable statement which I will condenseforyourbenefit.</s>“‘IpromisedmyfriendthatIwouldsaynothing of the matter, and a promise is a promise,’ said she; ‘butifIcanreallyhelpherwhensoseriousacharge is laid against her, and when her own mouth, poor darling, is closed by illness, then I think I am ab- solvedfrommypromise. Iwilltellyouexactlywhat happeneduponMondayevening.</s>“‘WewerereturningfromtheWattStreetMission aboutaquartertonineo’clock. Onourwaywehad topassthroughHudsonStreet,whichisaveryquiet thoroughfare. Thereisonlyonelampinit,uponthe left-handside,andasweapproachedthislampIsaw amancomingtowardsuswithisbackverybent,and somethinglikeaboxslungoveroneofhisshoulders.</s>Heappearedtobedeformed,forhecarriedhishead lowandwalkedwithhiskneesbent. Wewerepass- ing him when he raised his face to look at us in the circleoflightthrownbythelamp,andashedidsohe stoppedandscreamedoutinadreadfulvoice, “My God, it’s Nancy!” Mrs. Barclay turned as white as death,andwouldhavefallendownhadthedreadful- lookingcreaturenotcaughtholdofher. Iwasgoing to call for the police, but she, to my surprise, spoke quitecivillytothefellow.</s>“‘“Ithoughtyouhadbeendeadthisthirtyyears, Henry,”saidshe,inashakingvoice.</s>“‘“So I have,” said he, and it was awful to hear thetonesthathesaiditin. Hehadaverydark,fear- someface,andagleaminhiseyesthatcomesbackto me in my dreams. His hair and whiskers were shot withgray,andhisfacewasallcrinkledandpuckered likeawitheredapple.</s>“‘“Justwalkonalittleway,dear,”saidMrs.Bar- clay; “I want to have a word with this man. There isnothingtobeafraidof.”Shetriedtospeakboldly, butshewasstilldeadlypaleandcouldhardlygether wordsoutforthetremblingofherlips.</s>“‘Ididassheaskedme,andtheytalkedtogether for a few minutes. Then she came down the streetwithhereyesblazing,andIsawthecrippledwretch standingbythelamp-postandshakinghisclenched fistsintheairasifheweremadwithrage. Shenever saidaworduntilwewereatthedoorhere,whenshe took me by the hand and begged me to tell no one whathadhappened.</s>“‘“It’sanoldacquaintanceofminewhohascome downintheworld,”saidshe. WhenIpromisedher Iwouldsaynothingshekissedme,andIhavenever seenhersince. Ihavetoldyounowthewholetruth, andifIwithhelditfromthepoliceitisbecauseIdid notrealizethenthedangerinwhichmydearfriend stood. I know that it can only be to her advantage thateverythingshouldbeknown.’ “Therewasherstatement,Watson,andtome,as you can imagine, it was like a light on a dark night.</s>Everythingwhichhad beendisconnected beforebe- ganatoncetoassumeitstrueplace,andIhadashad- owy presentiment of the whole sequence of events.</s>Mynextstepobviouslywastofindthemanwhohad produced such a remarkable impression upon Mrs.</s>Barclay. IfhewerestillinAldershotitshouldnotbea verydifficultmatter. Therearenotsuchaverygreat numberofcivilians,andadeformedmanwassureto have attracted attention. I spent a day in the search, and by evening—this very evening, Watson—I had runhimdown. Theman’snameisHenryWood,and he lives in lodgings in this same street in which the ladies met him. He has only been five days in the place. Inthecharacterofaregistration-agentIhada mostinterestinggossipwithhislandlady. Themanis by trade a conjurer and performer, going round the canteensafternightfall,andgivingalittleentertain- ment at each. He carries some creature about with him in that box; about which the landlady seemed to be in considerable trepidation, for she had never seenananimallikeit. Heusesitinsomeofhistricks according to her account. So much the woman was abletotellme,andalsothatitwasawondertheman lived,seeinghowtwistedhewas,andthathespoke in a strange tongue sometimes, and that for the last twonightsshehadheardhimgroaningandweeping in his bedroom. He was all right, as far as money went,butinhisdeposithehadgivenherwhatlooked likeabadflorin. Sheshowedittome,Watson,andit wasanIndianrupee.</s>“So now, my dear fellow, you see exactly how we stand and why it is I want you. It is perfectly plain that after the ladies parted from this man he followedthematadistance,thathesawthequarrel betweenhusbandandwifethroughthewindow,that herushedin,andthatthecreaturewhichhecarried inhisboxgotloose. Thatisallverycertain. Butheis theonlypersoninthisworldwhocantellusexactly whathappenedinthatroom.” “Andyouintendtoaskhim?” “Mostcertainly—butinthepresenceofawitness.” “AndIamthewitness?” “If you will be so good. If he can clear the mat- ter up, well and good. If he refuses, we have no alternativebuttoapplyforawarrant.” “But how do you know he’ll be there when we return?” “You may be sure that I took some precautions.</s>IhaveoneofmyBakerStreetboysmountingguard over him who would stick to him like a burr, go wherehemight. WeshallfindhiminHudsonStreet to-morrow, Watson, and meanwhile I should be the criminalmyselfifIkeptyououtofbedanylonger.” It was midday when we found ourselves at the scene of the tragedy, and, under my companion’s guidance,wemadeourwayatoncetoHudsonStreet.</s>In spite of his capacity for concealing his emotions, IcouldeasilyseethatHolmeswasinastateofsup- pressedexcitement,whileIwasmyselftinglingwith that half-sporting, half-intellectual pleasure which I invariablyexperiencedwhenIassociatedmyselfwith himinhisinvestigations.</s>“This is the street,” said he, as we turned into a shortthoroughfarelinedwithplaintwo-storiedbrick houses. “Ah,hereisSimpsontoreport.” “He’sinallright,Mr.Holmes,”criedasmallstreet Arab,runninguptous.</s>“Good, Simpson!” said Holmes, patting him on the head. “Come along, Watson. This is the house.” Hesentinhiscardwithamessagethathehadcome onimportantbusiness,andamomentlaterwewere facetofacewiththemanwhomwehadcometosee.</s>Inspiteofthewarmweatherhewascrouchingovera fire,andthelittleroomwaslikeanoven. Themansat alltwistedandhuddledinhischairinawaywhich gave an indescribably impression of deformity; but the face which he turned towards us, though worn andswarthy,mustatsometimehavebeenremarkable foritsbeauty. Helookedsuspiciouslyatusnowout ofyellow-shot,biliouseyes,and,withoutspeakingor rising,hewavedtowardstwochairs.</s>“Mr. Henry Wood, late of India, I believe,” said Holmes,affably. “I’vecomeoverthislittlematterof ColonelBarclay’sdeath.” “WhatshouldIknowaboutthat?” “That’swhatIwanttoascertain. Youknow,Isup- pose,thatunlessthematterisclearedup,Mrs.Barclay,who is an old friend of yours, will in all probability betriedformurder.” Themangaveaviolentstart.</s>“I don’t know who you are,” he cried, “nor how you come to know what you do know, but will you swearthatthisistruethatyoutellme?” “Why,theyareonlywaitingforhertocometoher sensestoarresther.” “MyGod! Areyouinthepoliceyourself?” “No.” “Whatbusinessisitofyours,then?” “It’severyman’sbusinesstoseejusticedone.” “Youcantakemywordthatsheisinnocent.” “Thenyouareguilty.” “No,Iamnot.” “WhokilledColonelJamesBarclay,then?” “It was a just providence that killed him. But, mindyouthis,thatifIhadknockedhisbrainsout,as itwasinmyhearttodo,hewouldhavehadnomore than his due from my hands. If his own guilty con- sciencehadnotstruckhimdownitislikelyenough that I might have had his blood upon my soul. You want me to tell the story. Well, I don’t know why I shouldn’t,forthere’snocauseformetobeashamed ofit.</s>“Itwasinthisway,sir. Youseemenowwithmy backlikeacamelandbyribsallawry,buttherewas atimewhenCorporalHenryWoodwasthesmartest man in the 117th foot. We were in India then, in cantonments, at a place we’ll call Bhurtee. Barclay, who died the other day, was sergeant in the same company as myself, and the belle of the regiment, ay,andthefinestgirlthateverhadthebreathoflife betweenherlips,wasNancyDevoy,thedaughterof the color-sergeant. There were two men that loved her, and one that she loved, and you’ll smile when you look at this poor thing huddled before the fire, and hear me say that it was for my good looks that shelovedme.</s>“Well,thoughIhadherheart,herfatherwasset upon her marrying Barclay. I was a harum-scarum, recklesslad,andhehadhadaneducation,andwas alreadymarkedforthesword-belt. Butthegirlheld truetome,anditseemedthatIwouldhavehadher whentheMutinybrokeout,andallhellwasloosein thecountry.</s>“WewereshutupinBhurtee,theregimentofus with half a battery of artillery, a company of Sikhs, andalotofciviliansandwomen-folk. Therewereten thousandrebelsroundus,andtheywereaskeenas a set of terriers round a rat-cage. About the second weekofitourwatergaveout,anditwasaquestion whetherwecouldcommunicatewithGeneralNeill’s column, which was moving up country. It was our onlychance,forwecouldnothopetofightourway outwithallthewomenandchildren,soIvolunteered togooutandtowarnGeneralNeillofourdanger. My offerwasaccepted,andItalkeditoverwithSergeant Barclay,whowassupposedtoknowthegroundbet- ter than any other man, and who drew up a route bywhichImightgetthroughtherebellines. Atten o’clockthesamenightIstartedoffuponmyjourney.</s>Therewereathousandlivestosave,butitwasofonly onethatIwasthinkingwhenIdroppedoverthewall thatnight.</s>“Mywayrandownadried-upwatercourse,which wehopedwouldscreenmefromtheenemy’ssentries; but as I crept round the corner of it I walked right into six of them, who were crouching down in the darkwaitingforme. InaninstantIwasstunnedwith ablowandboundhandandfoot. Buttherealblow was to my heart and not to my head, for as I came toandlistenedtoasmuchasIcouldunderstandof theirtalk,Iheardenoughtotellmethatmycomrade, theverymanwhohadarrangedthewaythatIwasto take, had betrayed me by means of a native servant intothehandsoftheenemy.</s>“Well,there’snoneedformetodwellonthatpart ofit. YouknownowwhatJamesBarclaywascapable of. Bhurtee was relieved by Neill next day, but the rebelstookmeawaywiththemintheirretreat,andit wasmanyalongyearbeforeeverIsawawhiteface again. Iwastorturedandtriedtogetaway,andwas captured and tortured again. You can see for your- selvesthestateinwhichIwasleft. Someofthemthat fled into Nepal took me with them, and then after- wardsIwasuppastDarjeeling. Thehill-folkupthere murderedtherebelswhohadme,andIbecametheir slaveforatimeuntilIescaped;butinsteadofgoing southIhadtogonorth,untilIfoundmyselfamong theAfghans. ThereIwanderedaboutformanyayear, and at last came back to the Punjaub, where I lived mostlyamongthenativesandpickedupalivingby theconjuringtricksthatIhadlearned. Whatusewas itforme,awretchedcripple,togobacktoEnglandor tomakemyselfknowntomyoldcomrades? Evenmy wishforrevengewouldnotmakemedothat. Ihad rather that Nancy and my old pals should think of HarryWoodashavingdiedwithastraightback,than seehimlivingandcrawlingwithasticklikeachim- panzee. They never doubted that I was dead, and Imeant that they never should. I heard that Barclay hadmarriedNancy,andthathewasrisingrapidlyin theregiment,buteventhatdidnotmakemespeak.</s>“But when one gets old one has a longing for home. For years I’ve been dreaming of the bright greenfieldsandthehedgesofEngland. AtlastIde- termined to see them before I died. I saved enough to bring me across, and then I came here where the soldiersare,forIknowtheirwaysandhowtoamuse themandsoearnenoughtokeepme.” “Yournarrativeismostinteresting,”saidSherlock Holmes. “Ihavealreadyheardofyourmeetingwith Mrs.Barclay,andyourmutualrecognition. Youthen, asIunderstand,followedherhomeandsawthrough thewindowanaltercationbetweenherhusbandand her,inwhichshedoubtlesscasthisconducttoyouin histeeth. Yourownfeelingsovercameyou,andyou ranacrossthelawnandbrokeinuponthem.” “I did, sir, and at the sight of me he looked as I haveneverseenamanlookbefore,andoverhewent withhisheadonthefender. Buthewasdeadbefore hefell. IreaddeathonhisfaceasplainasIcanread thattextoverthefire. Thebaresightofmewaslikea bulletthroughhisguiltyheart.” “Andthen?” “ThenNancyfainted,andIcaughtupthekeyof the door from her hand, intending to unlock it and gethelp. ButasIwasdoingititseemedtomebetter to leave it alone and get away, for the thing might lookblackagainstme,andanywaymysecretwould be out if I were taken. In my haste I thrust the key into my pocket, and dropped my stick while I was chasing Teddy, who had run up the curtain. When Igothimintohisbox,fromwhichhehadslipped,I wasoffasfastasIcouldrun.” “Who’sTeddy?”askedHolmes.</s>The man leaned over and pulled up the front of akindofhutchinthecorner. Inaninstantoutthere slippedabeautifulreddish-browncreature,thinand lithe, with the legs of a stoat, a long, thin nose, and a pair of the finest red eyes that ever I saw in an animal’shead.</s>“It’samongoose,”Icried.</s>“Well, some call them that, and some call them ichneumon,”saidtheman. “Snake-catcheriswhatI call them, and Teddy is amazing quick on cobras. I haveoneherewithoutthefangs,andTeddycatches iteverynighttopleasethefolkinthecanteen.</s>“Anyotherpoint,sir?” “Well,wemayhavetoapplytoyouagainifMrs.</s>Barclayshouldprovetobeinserioustrouble.” “Inthatcase,ofcourse,I’dcomeforward.” “But if not, there is no object in raking up this scandal against a dead man, foully as he has acted.</s>You have at least the satisfaction of knowing that for thirty years of his life his conscience bitterly re- proached him for this wicked deed. Ah, there goes MajorMurphyontheothersideofthestreet. Good- bye,Wood. Iwanttolearnifanythinghashappened sinceyesterday.” We were in time to overtake the major before he reachedthecorner.</s>“Ah,Holmes,”hesaid: “Isupposeyouhaveheard thatallthisfusshascometonothing?” “Whatthen?” “The inquest is just over. The medical evidence showedconclusivelythatdeathwasduetoapoplexy.</s>Youseeitwasquiteasimplecaseafterall.” “Oh,remarkablysuperficial,”saidHolmes,smil- ing. “Come,Watson,Idon’tthinkweshallbewanted inAldershotanymore.” “There’s one thing,” said I, as we walked down to the station. “If the husband’s name was James, and the other was Henry, what was this talk about David?” “That one word, my dear Watson, should have toldmethewholestoryhadIbeentheidealreasoner whichyouaresofondofdepicting. Itwasevidently atermofreproach.” “Ofreproach?” “Yes;Davidstrayedalittleoccasionally,youknow, andononeoccasioninthesamedirectionasSergeant JamesBarclay. YourememberthesmallaffairofUriah andBathsheba? Mybiblicalknowledgeisatriflerusty, Ifear,butyouwillfindthestoryinthefirstorsecond ofSamuel.”lancingoverthesomewhatincoherentse- riesofMemoirswithwhichIhaveendeav- oredtoillustrateafewofthementalpecu- G liaritiesofmyfriendMr.SherlockHolmes, IhavebeenstruckbythedifficultywhichIhaveexpe- riencedinpickingoutexampleswhichshallinevery wayanswermypurpose. Forinthosecasesinwhich Holmeshasperformedsometourdeforceofanalytical reasoning,andhasdemonstratedthevalueofhispe- culiarmethodsofinvestigation,thefactsthemselves have often been so slight or so commonplace that I couldnotfeeljustifiedinlayingthembeforethepub- lic. On the other hand, it has frequently happened that he has been concerned in some research where thefactshavebeenofthemostremarkableanddra- matic character, but where the share which he has himself taken in determining their causes has been lesspronouncedthanI,ashisbiographer,couldwish.</s>ThesmallmatterwhichIhavechronicledunderthe headingof“AStudyinScarlet,”andthatotherlater one connected with the loss of the Gloria Scott, may serveasexamplesofthisScyllaandCharybdiswhich are forever threatening the historian. It may be that in the business of which I am now about to write the part which my friend played is not sufficiently accentuated;andyetthewholetrainofcircumstances issoremarkablethatIcannotbringmyselftoomitit entirelyfromthisseries.</s>It had been a close, rainy day in October. Our blindswerehalf-drawn,andHolmeslaycurledupon the sofa, reading and re-reading a letter which he had received by the morning post. For myself, my termofserviceinIndiahadtrainedmetostandheat better than cold, and a thermometer of 90 was no hardship. But the paper was uninteresting. Parlia- ment had risen. Everybody was out of town, and I yearnedforthegladesoftheNewForestortheshin- gleofSouthsea. Adepletedbankaccounthadcaused metopostponemyholiday,andastomycompanion, neitherthecountrynortheseapresentedtheslightest attractiontohim. Helovedtolieintheverycentreof fivemillionsofpeople,withhisfilamentsstretching out and running through them, responsive to every little rumor or suspicion of unsolved crime. Appre- ciation of Nature found no place among his many gifts, and his only change was when he turned his mind from the evil-doer of the town to track down hisbrotherofthecountry.</s>Icannotbesureoftheexactdate,forsomeofmy memorandauponthematterhavebeenmislaid,butit musthavebeentowardstheendofthefirstyeardur- ing which Holmes and I shared chambers in Baker Street. It was boisterous October weather, and we hadbothremainedindoorsallday,IbecauseIfeared withmyshakenhealthtofacethekeenautumnwind, whilehewasdeepinsomeofthoseabstrusechemical investigations which absorbed him utterly as long as he was engaged upon them. Towards evening, however, the breaking of a test-tube brought his re- searchtoaprematureending,andhesprangupfrom his chair with an exclamation of impatience and a cloudedbrow.</s>“Aday’sworkruined,Watson,”saidhe,striding acrosstothewindow. “Ha! Thestarsareoutandhe windhasfallen. Whatdoyousaytoaramblethrough London?” Iwaswearyofourlittlesitting-roomandgladlyac- quiesced. Forthreehourswestrolledabouttogether, watchingtheever-changingkaleidoscopeoflifeasit ebbs and flows through Fleet Street and the Strand.</s>His characteristic talk, with its keen observance of detailandsubtlepowerofinferenceheldmeamused andenthralled. Itwasteno’clockbeforewereached BakerStreet again. A broughamwaswaitingatour door.</s>“Hum! A doctor’s—general practitioner, I per- ceive,”saidHolmes. “Notbeenlonginpractice,but has had a good deal to do. Come to consult us, I fancy! Luckywecameback!” IwassufficientlyconversantwithHolmes’smeth- ods to be able to follow his reasoning, and to see that the nature and state of the various medical in- struments in the wicker basket which hung in the lamplight inside the brougham had given him the dataforhisswiftdeduction. Thelightinourwindow aboveshowedthatthislatevisitwasindeedintended forus. Withsomecuriosityastowhatcouldhavesent a brother medico to us at such an hour, I followed Holmesintooursanctum.</s>Apale,taper-facedmanwithsandywhiskersrose up from a chair by the fire as we entered. His age maynothavebeenmorethanthreeorfourandthirty, buthishaggardexpressionandunhealthyhuetoldof alifewhichhassappedhisstrengthandrobbedhim ofhisyouth. Hismannerwasnervousandshy,like thatofasensitivegentleman,andthethinwhitehand whichhelaidonthemantelpieceasherosewasthat of an artist rather than of a surgeon. His dress was quietandsombre—ablackfrock-coat,darktrousers, andatouchofcolorabouthisnecktie.</s>“Good-evening,doctor,”saidHolmes,cheerily. “I amgladtoseethatyouhaveonlybeenwaitingavery fewminutes.” “Youspoketomycoachman,then?”“No,itwasthecandleontheside-tablethattold me. Pray resume your seat and let me know how I canserveyou.” “My name is Doctor Percy Trevelyan,” said our visitor,“andIliveat403BrookStreet.” “Are you not the author of a monograph upon obscurenervouslesions?”Iasked.</s>Hispalecheeksflushedwithpleasureathearing thathisworkwasknowntome.</s>“IsoseldomhearoftheworkthatIthoughtitwas quitedead,”saidhe. “Mypublishersgavemeamost discouraging account of its sale. You are yourself, I presume,amedicalman?” “Aretiredarmysurgeon.” “Myownhobbyhasalwaysbeennervousdisease.</s>I should wish to make it an absolute specialty, but, of course, a man must take what he can get at first.</s>This, however, is beside the question, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I quite appreciate how valuable your timeis. Thefactisthataverysingulartrainofevents has occurred recently at my house in Brook Street, and to-night they came to such a head that I felt it was quite impossible for me to wait another hour beforeaskingforyouradviceandassistance.” SherlockHolmessatdownandlithispipe. “You are very welcome to both,” said he. “Pray let me haveadetailedaccountofwhatthecircumstancesare whichhavedisturbedyou.” “One or two of them are so trivial,” said Dr.</s>Trevelyan,“thatreallyIamalmostashamedtomen- tionthem. Butthematterissoinexplicable,andthe recent turn which it has taken is so elaborate, that I shalllayitallbeforeyou,andyoushalljudgewhatis essentialandwhatisnot.</s>“Iamcompelled,tobeginwith,tosaysomething ofmyowncollegecareer. IamaLondonUniversity man,youknow,andIamsurethatyouwillnotthink thatIamundulysingingmyownpraisesifIsaythat mystudentcareerwasconsideredbymyprofessors to be a very promising one. After I had graduated Icontinuedtodevotemyselftoresearch,occupying a minor position in King’s College Hospital, and I wasfortunateenoughtoexciteconsiderableinterest bymyresearchintothepathologyofcatalepsy,and finally to win the Bruce Pinkerton prize and medal bythemonographonnervouslesionstowhichyour friend has just alluded. I should not go too far if I were to say that there was a general impression at thattimethatadistinguishedcareerlaybeforeme.</s>“Buttheonegreatstumbling-blocklayinmywant ofcapital. Asyouwillreadilyunderstand,aspecialist whoaimshighiscompelledtostartinoneofadozen streetsintheCavendishSquarequarter,allofwhich entail enormous rents and furnishing expenses. Be- sidesthispreliminaryoutlay,hemustbepreparedto keephimselfforsomeyears,andtohireapresentable carriageandhorse. Todothiswasquitebeyondmy power,andIcouldonlyhopethatbyeconomyImight intenyears’timesaveenoughtoenablemetoputup myplate. Suddenly,however,anunexpectedincident openedupquiteanewprospecttome.</s>“Thiswasavisitfromagentlemanofthenameof Blessington,whowasacompletestrangertome. He cameuptomyroomonemorning,andplungedinto businessinaninstant.</s>“‘YouarethesamePercyTrevelyanwhohashad sodistinguishedacareerandwonagreatprizelately?’ saidhe.</s>“Ibowed.</s>“‘Answermefrankly,’hecontinued,‘foryouwill findittoyourinteresttodoso. Youhavealltheclev- ernesswhichmakesasuccessfulman. Haveyouthe tact?’ “Icouldnothelpsmilingattheabruptnessofthe question.</s>“‘ItrustthatIhavemyshare,’Isaid.</s>“‘Anybadhabits? Notdrawntowardsdrink,eh?’ “‘Really,sir!’ Icried.</s>“‘Quite right! That’s all right! But I was bound to ask. With all these qualities, why are you not in practice?’ “Ishruggedmyshoulders.</s>“‘Come,come!’ saidhe,inhisbustlingway. ‘It’s theoldstory. Moreinyourbrainsthaninyourpocket, eh? WhatwouldyousayifIweretostartyouinBrook Street?’ “Istaredathiminastonishment.</s>“‘Oh,it’sformysake,notforyours,’hecried. ‘I’ll beperfectlyfrankwithyou,andifitsuitsyouitwill suit me very well. I have a few thousands to invest, d’yesee,andIthinkI’llsinktheminyou.’ “‘Butwhy?’ Igasped.</s>“‘Well, it’s just like any other speculation, and saferthanmost.’ “‘WhatamItodo,then?’ “‘I’ll tell you. I’ll take the house, furnish it, pay themaids,andrunthewholeplace. Allyouhaveto do is just to wear out your chair in the consulting- room. I’llletyouhavepocket-moneyandeverything.Thenyouhandovertomethreequartersofwhatyou earn,andyoukeeptheotherquarterforyourself.’ “Thiswasthestrangeproposal,Mr.Holmes,with whichthemanBlessingtonapproachedme. Iwon’t wearyyouwiththeaccountofhowwebargainedand negotiated. It ended in my moving into the house nextLadyDay,andstartinginpracticeonverymuch the same conditions as he had suggested. He came himself to live with me in the character of a resi- dentpatient. Hisheartwasweak,itappears,andhe neededconstantmedicalsupervision. Heturnedthe two best rooms of the first floor into a sitting-room andbedroomforhimself. Hewasamanofsingular habits, shunning company and very seldom going out. Hislifewasirregular,butinonerespecthewas regularityitself. Everyevening,atthesamehour,he walkedintotheconsulting-room,examinedthebooks, putdownfiveandthree-penceforeveryguineathatI hadearned,andcarriedtherestofftothestrong-box inhisownroom.</s>“Imaysaywithconfidencethatheneverhadoc- casiontoregrethisspeculation. Fromthefirstitwas asuccess. Afewgoodcasesandthereputationwhich Ihadwoninthehospitalbroughtmerapidlytothe front,andduringthelastfewyearsIhavemadehim arichman.</s>“So much, Mr. Holmes, for my past history and my relations with Mr. Blessington. It only remains formenowtotellyouwhathasoccurredtobringme hereto-night.</s>“SomeweeksagoMr.Blessingtoncamedownto mein,asitseemedtome,astateofconsiderableagi- tation. Hespokeofsomeburglarywhich,hesaid,had been committed in the West End, and he appeared, Iremember, tobequiteunnecessarilyexcitedabout it, declaring that a day should not pass before we shouldaddstrongerboltstoourwindowsanddoors.</s>For a week he continued to be in a peculiar state of restlessness,peeringcontinuallyoutofthewindows, andceasingtotaketheshortwalkwhichhadusually been the prelude to his dinner. From his manner it struckmethathewasinmortaldreadofsomething or somebody, but when I questioned him upon the pointhebecamesooffensivethatIwascompelledto dropthesubject. Gradually,astimepassed,hisfears appearedtodieaway,andhehadrenewedhisformer habits,whenafresheventreducedhimtothepitiable stateofprostrationinwhichhenowlies.</s>“What happened was this. Two days ago I re- ceived the letter which I now read to you. Neither addressnordateisattachedtoit.</s>“‘ARussiannoblemanwhoisnowresi- dentinEngland,’itruns,‘wouldbegladto availhimselfoftheprofessionalassistance of Dr. Percy Trevelyan. He has been for some years a victim to cataleptic attacks, onwhich,asiswellknown,Dr.Trevelyan is an authority. He proposes to call at aboutquarterpastsixto-morrowevening, ifDr.Trevelyanwillmakeitconvenientto beathome.’ “Thisletterinterestedmedeeply,becausethechief difficultyinthestudyofcatalepsyistherarenessof thedisease. Youmaybelieve,than,thatIwasinmy consulting-room when, at the appointed hour, the pageshowedinthepatient.</s>He was an elderly man, thin, demure, and common-place—by no means the conception one forms of a Russian nobleman. I was much more struckbytheappearanceofhiscompanion. Thiswas atallyoungman,surprisinglyhandsome,withadark, fierceface,andthelimbsandchestofaHercules. He hadhishandundertheother’sarmastheyentered, and helped him to a chair with a tenderness which onewouldhardlyhaveexpectedfromhisappearance.</s>“‘Youwillexcusemycomingin,doctor,’saidhe to me, speaking English with a slight lisp. ‘This is my father, and his health is a matter of the most overwhelmingimportancetome.’ “Iwastouchedbythisfilialanxiety. ‘Youwould, perhaps,caretoremainduringtheconsultation?’ said I.</s>“‘Not for the world,’ he cried with a gesture of horror. ‘It is more painful to me than I can express.</s>If I were to see my father in one of these dreadful seizuresIamconvincedthatIshouldneversurvive it. Myownnervoussystemisanexceptionallysensi- tiveone. Withyourpermission,Iwillremaininthe waiting-roomwhileyougointomyfather’scase.’ “Tothis,ofcourse,Iassented,andtheyoungman withdrew. ThepatientandIthenplungedintoadis- cussionofhiscase,ofwhichItookexhaustivenotes.</s>He was not remarkable for intelligence, and his an- swers were frequently obscure, which I attributed tohislimitedacquaintancewithourlanguage. Sud- denly, however, as I sat writing, he ceased to give anyansweratalltomyinquiries,andonmyturning towardshimIwasshockedtoseethathewassitting boltuprightinhischair,staringatmewithaperfectly blankandrigidface. Hewasagaininthegripofhis mysteriousmalady.</s>“My first feeling, as I have just said, was one of pity and horror. My second, I fear, was rather oneof professional satisfaction. I made notes of my pa- tient’s pulse and temperature, tested the rigidity of his muscles, and examined his reflexes. There was nothing markedly abnormal in any of these condi- tions,whichharmonizedwithmyformerexperiences.</s>I had obtained good results in such cases by the in- halation of nitrite of amyl, and the present seemed anadmirableopportunityoftestingitsvirtues. The bottlewasdownstairsinmylaboratory,soleavingmy patientseatedinhischair,Irandowntogetit. There wassomelittledelayinfindingit—fiveminutes,let ussay—andthenIreturned. Imaginemyamazement tofindtheroomemptyandthepatientgone.</s>“Ofcourse,myfirstactwastorunintothewaiting- room. Thesonhadgonealso. Thehalldoorhadbeen closed,butnotshut. Mypagewhoadmitspatientsis a new boy and by no means quick. He waits down- stairs,andrunsuptoshowpatientsoutwhenIring theconsulting-roombell. Hehadheardnothing,and theaffairremainedacompletemystery. Mr.Blessing- ton came in from his walk shortly afterwards, but I didnotsayanythingtohimuponthesubject,for,to tellthetruth,Ihavegotinthewayoflateofholding aslittlecommunicationwithhimaspossible.</s>“Well,IneverthoughtthatIshouldseeanything more of the Russian and his son, so you can imag- inemyamazementwhen,attheverysamehourthis evening,theybothcamemarchingintomyconsulting- room,justastheyhaddonebefore.</s>“‘I feel that I owe you a great many apologies formyabruptdepartureyesterday,doctor,’saidmy patient.</s>“‘I confess that I was very much surprised at it,’ saidI.</s>“‘Well, the fact is,’ he remarked, ‘that when I recover from these attacks my mind is always very cloudedastoallthathasgonebefore. Iwokeupina strangeroom,asitseemedtome,andmademyway out into the street in a sort of dazed way when you wereabsent.’ “‘AndI,’saidtheson,‘seeingmyfatherpassthe doorofthewaiting-room,naturallythoughtthatthe consultation had come to an end. It was not until wehadreachedhomethatIbegantorealizethetrue stateofaffairs.’ “‘Well,’saidI,laughing,‘thereisnoharmdoneex- ceptthatyoupuzzledmeterribly;soifyou,sir,would kindlystepintothewaiting-roomIshallbehappyto continue our consultation which was brought to so abruptanending.’ “For half an hour or so I discussed that old gen- tleman’ssymptomswithhim,andthen,havingpre- scribedforhim,Isawhimgooffuponthearmofhis son.</s>“I have told you that Mr. Blessington generally chosethishourofthedayforhisexercise. Hecame inshortlyafterwardsandpassedupstairs. Aninstant laterIheardhimrunningdown,andheburstintomy consulting-roomlikeamanwhoismadwithpanic.</s>“‘Whohasbeeninmyroom?’ hecried.</s>“‘Noone,’saidI.</s>“‘It’salie!’ Heyelled. ‘Comeupandlook!’ “Ipassedoverthegrossnessofhislanguage,ashe seemedhalfoutofhismindwithfear. WhenIwent upstairs with him he pointed to several footprints uponthelightcarpet.</s>“‘D’youmeantosaythosearemine?’ hecried.</s>“They were certainly very much larger than any whichhecouldhavemade,andwereevidentlyquite fresh. It rained hard this afternoon, as you know, andmypatientsweretheonlypeoplewhocalled. It must have been the case, then, that the man in the waiting-roomhad,forsomeunknownreason,while I was busy with the other, ascended to the room of my resident patient. Nothing has been touched or taken,buttherewerethefootprintstoprovethatthe intrusionwasanundoubtedfact.</s>“Mr. Blessington seemed more excited over the matter than I should have thought possible, though ofcourse itwasenoughto disturbanybody’s peace ofmind. Heactuallysatcryinginanarm-chair,andI couldhardlygethimtospeakcoherently. Itwashis suggestionthatIshouldcomeroundtoyou, andof courseIatoncesawtheproprietyofit,forcertainly theincidentisaverysingularone,thoughheappears tocompletelyoverrateitsimportance. Ifyouwould onlycomebackwithmeinmybrougham,youwould at least be able to soothe him, though I can hardly hopethatyouwillbeabletoexplainthisremarkable occurrence.” Sherlock Holmes had listened to this long narra- tivewithanintentnesswhichshowedmethathisin- terestwaskeenlyaroused. Hisfacewasasimpassive as ever, but his lids had drooped more heavily over his eyes, and his smoke had curled up more thickly from his pipeto emphasize eachcurious episode in the doctor’s tale. As our visitor concluded, Holmes sprangupwithoutaword,handedmemyhat,picked hisownfromthetable,andfollowedDr.Trevelyanto the door. Within a quarter of an hour we had beendropped at the door of the physician’s residence in BrookStreet,oneofthosesombre,flat-facedhouses which one associates with a West-End practice. A small page admitted us, and we began at once to ascendthebroad,well-carpetedstair.</s>Butasingularinterruptionbroughtustoastand- still. Thelightatthetopwassuddenlywhiskedout, andfromthedarknesscameareedy,quiveringvoice.</s>“I have a pistol,” it cried. “I give you my word thatI’llfireifyoucomeanynearer.” “This really grows outrageous, Mr. Blessington,” criedDr.Trevelyan.</s>“Oh,thenitisyou,doctor,”saidthevoice,witha greatheaveofrelief. “Butthoseothergentlemen,are theywhattheypretendtobe?” We were conscious of a long scrutiny out of the darkness.</s>“Yes,yes,it’sallright,”saidthevoiceatlast. “You cancomeup,andIamsorryifmyprecautionshave annoyedyou.” He relit the stair gas as he spoke, and we saw beforeusasingular-lookingman,whoseappearance, aswellashisvoice,testifiedtohisjanglednerves. He was very fat, but had apparently at some time been much fatter, so that the skin hung about his face in loosepouches,likethecheeksofablood-hound. He wasofasicklycolor,andhisthin,sandyhairseemed tobristleupwiththeintensityofhisemotion. Inhis handheheldapistol,buthethrustitintohispocket asweadvanced.</s>“Good-evening,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe. “Iamsure I am very much obliged to you for coming round.</s>No one ever needed your advice more than I do. I supposethatDr.Trevelyanhastoldyouofthismost unwarrantableintrusionintomyrooms.” “Quiteso,”saidHolmes. “Whoarethesetwomen Mr. Blessington, and why do they wish to molest you?” “Well, well,” said the resident patient, in a ner- vousfashion,“ofcourseitishardtosaythat. Youcan hardlyexpectmetoanswerthat,Mr.Holmes.” “Doyoumeanthatyoudon’tknow?” “Comeinhere,ifyouplease. Justhavethekind- nesstostepinhere.” Heledthewayintohisbedroom,whichwaslarge andcomfortablyfurnished.</s>“Youseethat,”saidhe,pointingtoabigblackbox attheendofhisbed. “Ihaveneverbeenaveryrich man,Mr.Holmes—nevermadebutoneinvestmentin mylife,asDr.Trevelyanwouldtellyou. ButIdon’t believeinbankers. Iwouldnevertrustabanker,Mr.</s>Holmes. Between ourselves, what little I have is in that box, so you can understand what it means to mewhenunknownpeopleforcethemselvesintomy rooms.” HolmeslookedatBlessingtoninhisquestioning wayandshookhishead.</s>“Icannotpossiblyadviseyouifyoutrytodeceive me,”saidhe.</s>“ButIhavetoldyoueverything.” Holmesturnedonhisheelwithagestureofdis- gust. “Good-night,Dr.Trevelyan,”saidhe.</s>“And no advice for me?” cried Blessington, in a breakingvoice.</s>“Myadvicetoyour,sir,istospeakthetruth.” Aminutelaterwewereinthestreetandwalking for home. We had crossed Oxford Street and were halfwaydownHarleyStreetbeforeIcouldgetaword frommycompanion.</s>“Sorry to bring you out on such a fool’s errand, Watson,”hesaidatlast. “Itisaninterestingcase,too, atthebottomofit.” “Icanmakelittleofit,”Iconfessed.</s>“Well, it is quite evident that there are two men—more, perhaps, but at least two—who are de- terminedforsomereasontogetatthisfellowBless- ington. I have no doubt in my mind that both on thefirstandonthesecondoccasionthatyoungman penetrated to Blessington’s room, while his confed- erate, by an ingenious device, kept the doctor from interfering.” “Andthecatalepsy?” “Afraudulentimitation,Watson,thoughIshould hardly dare to hint as much to our specialist. It is a veryeasycomplainttoimitate. Ihavedoneitmyself.” “Andthen?” “By the purest chance Blessington was out on eachoccasion. Theirreasonforchoosingsounusual an hour for a consultation was obviously to insure thatthereshouldbenootherpatientinthewaiting- room. Itjusthappened,however,thatthishourcoin- cidedwithBlessington’sconstitutional,whichseems toshowthattheywerenotverywellacquaintedwith hisdailyroutine. Ofcourse,iftheyhadbeenmerely after plunder they would at least have made some attempttosearchforit. Besides,Icanreadinaman’s eyewhenitishisownskinthatheisfrightenedfor. It isinconceivablethatthisfellowcouldhavemadetwo suchvindictiveenemiesastheseappeartobewithout knowingofit. Iholdit,therefore,tobecertainthathedoesknowwhothesemenare,andthatforreasons of his own he suppresses it. It is just possible that to-morrow may find him in a more communicative mood.” “Is there not one alternative,” I suggested, “grotesquelyimprobably,nodoubt,butstilljustcon- ceivable? MightthewholestoryofthecatalepticRus- sian and his son be a concoction of Dr. Trevelyan’s, whohas,forhisownpurposes,beeninBlessington’s rooms?” IsawinthegaslightthatHolmesworeanamused smileatthisbrilliantdepartureofmine.</s>“Mydearfellow,”saidhe,“itwasoneofthefirst solutionswhichoccurredtome,butIwassoonable tocorroboratethedoctor’stale. Thisyoungmanhas leftprintsuponthestair-carpetwhichmadeitquite superfluousformetoasktoseethosewhichhehad made in the room. When I tell you that his shoes weresquare-toedinsteadofbeingpointedlikeBless- ington’s, and were quite an inch and a third longer thanthedoctor’s,youwillacknowledgethattherecan benodoubtastohisindividuality. Butwemaysleep on it now, for I shall be surprised if we do not hear somethingfurtherfromBrookStreetinthemorning.” Sherlock Holmes’s prophecy was soon fulfilled, and in a dramatic fashion. At half-past seven next morning,inthefirstglimmerofdaylight,Ifoundhim standingbymybedsideinhisdressing-gown.</s>“There’sabroughamwaitingforus,Watson,”said he.</s>“What’sthematter,then?” “TheBrookStreetbusiness.” “Anyfreshnews?” “Tragic,butambiguous,”saidhe,pullingupthe blind. “Lookatthis—asheetfromanote-book,with ‘ForGod’ssakecomeatonce—P.T.,’scrawleduponit in pencil. Our friend, the doctor, was hard put to it whenhewrotethis. Comealong,mydearfellow,for it’sanurgentcall.” Inaquarterofanhourorsowewerebackatthe physician’shouse. Hecamerunningouttomeetus withafaceofhorror.</s>“Oh,suchabusiness!”hecried,withhishandsto histemples.</s>“Whatthen?” “Blessingtonhascommittedsuicide!” Holmeswhistled.</s>“Yes,hehangedhimselfduringthenight.” Wehadentered,andthedoctorhadprecededus intowhatwasevidentlyhiswaiting-room.</s>“IreallyhardlyknowwhatIamdoing,”hecried.</s>“The police are already upstairs. It has shaken me mostdreadfully.” “Whendidyoufinditout?” “He has a cup of tea taken in to him early every morning. Whenthemaidentered,aboutseven,there theunfortunatefellowwashanginginthemiddleof theroom. Hehadtiedhiscordtothehookonwhich the heavy lamp used to hang, and he had jumped off from the top of the very box that he showed us yesterday.” Holmesstoodforamomentindeepthought.</s>“Withyourpermission,”saidheatlast,“Ishould liketogoupstairsandlookintothematter.” Webothascended,followedbythedoctor.</s>Itwasadreadfulsightwhichmetusasweentered thebedroomdoor. Ihavespokenoftheimpressionof flabbinesswhichthismanBlessingtonconveyed. As hedangledfromthehookitwasexaggeratedandin- tensifieduntilhewasscarcehumaninhisappearance.</s>The neck was drawn out like a plucked chicken’s, makingtherestofhimseemthemoreobeseandun- naturalbythecontrast. Hewascladonlyinhislong night-dress,andhisswollenanklesandungainlyfeet protrudedstarklyfrombeneathit. Besidehimstooda smart-lookingpolice-inspector,whowastakingnotes inapocket-book.</s>“Ah,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe,heartily,asmyfriend entered,“Iamdelightedtoseeyou.” “Good-morning,Lanner,”answeredHolmes;“you won’tthinkmeanintruder,Iamsure. Haveyouheard oftheeventswhichleduptothisaffair?” “Yes,Iheardsomethingofthem.” “Haveyouformedanyopinion?” “AsfarasIcansee,themanhasbeendrivenout of his senses by fright. The bed has been well slept in,yousee. There’shisimpressiondeepenough. It’s about five in the morning, you know, that suicides are most common. That would be about his time for hanging himself. It seems to have been a very deliberateaffair.” “I should say that he has been dead about three hours,judgingbytherigidityofthemuscles,”saidI.</s>“Noticed anything peculiar about the room?” askedHolmes.</s>“Found a screw-driver and some screws on the wash-handstand. Seemstohavesmokedheavilydur- ing the night, too. Here are four cigar-ends that I pickedoutofthefireplace.”“Hum!” said Holmes, “have you got his cigar- holder?” “No,Ihaveseennone.” “Hiscigar-case,then?” “Yes,itwasinhiscoat-pocket.” Holmes opened it and smelled the single cigar whichitcontained.</s>“Oh,thisisanHavana,andtheseothersarecigars ofthepeculiarsortwhichareimportedbytheDutch from their East Indian colonies. They are usually wrappedinstraw,youknow,andarethinnerfortheir lengththananyotherbrand.”Hepickedupthefour endsandexaminedthemwithhispocket-lens.</s>“Two of these have been smoked from a holder and two without,” said he. “Two have been cut by a not very sharp knife, and two have had the ends bitten off by a set of excellent teeth. This is no sui- cide, Mr. Lanner. It is a very deeply planned and cold-bloodedmurder.” “Impossible!”criedtheinspector.</s>“Andwhy?” “Whyshouldanyonemurderamaninsoclumsy afashionasbyhanginghim?” “Thatiswhatwehavetofindout.” “Howcouldtheygetin?” “Throughthefrontdoor.” “Itwasbarredinthemorning.” “Thenitwasbarredafterthem.” “Howdoyouknow?” “I saw their traces. Excuse me a moment, and I may be able to give you some further information aboutit.” Hewentovertothedoor,andturningthelockhe examineditinhismethodicalway. Thenhetookout thekey,whichwasontheinside,andinspectedthat also. Thebed,thecarpet,thechairsthemantelpiece, thedeadbody,andtheropewereeachinturnexam- ined,untilatlastheprofessedhimselfsatisfied,and with my aid and that of the inspector cut down the wretchedobjectandlaiditreverentlyunderasheet.</s>“Howaboutthisrope?”heasked.</s>“It is cut off this,” said Dr. Trevelyan, drawing a large coil from under the bed. “He was morbidly nervous of fire, and always kept this beside him, so thathemightescapebythewindowincasethestairs wereburning.” “That must have saved them trouble,” said Holmes,thoughtfully. “Yes,theactualfactsarevery plain, and I shall be surprised if by the afternoon I cannot give you the reasons for them as well. I will takethisphotographofBlessington,whichIseeupon themantelpiece,asitmayhelpmeinmyinquiries.” “Butyouhavetoldusnothing!”criedthedoctor.</s>“Oh, there can be no doubt as to the sequence of events,” said Holmes. “There were three of them in it: the young man, the old man, and a third, to whose identity I have no clue. The first two, I need hardly remark, are the same who masqueraded as theRussiancountandhisson,sowecangiveavery full description of them. They were admitted by a confederate inside the house. If I might offer you a word of advice, Inspector, it would be to arrest the page, who, as I understand, has only recently come intoyourservice,Doctor.” “The young imp cannot be found,” said Dr.</s>Trevelyan; “the maid and the cook have just been searchingforhim.” Holmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“He has played a not unimportant part in this drama,”saidhe. “Thethreemenhavingascendedthe stairs, which they did on tiptoe, the elder man first, the younger man second, and the unknown man in therear—” “MydearHolmes!”Iejaculated.</s>“Oh, there could be no question as to the super- imposing of the footmarks. I had the advantage of learningwhichwaswhichlastnight. Theyascended, then, to Mr. Blessington’s room, the door of which they found to be locked. With the help of a wire, however,theyforcedroundthekey. Evenwithoutthe lensyouwillperceive,bythescratchesonthisward, wherethepressurewasapplied.</s>“Onenteringtheroomtheirfirstproceedingmust havebeentogagMr.Blessington. Hemayhavebeen asleep,orhemayhavebeensoparalyzedwithterror as to have been unable to cry out. These walls are thick, and it is conceivable that his shriek, if he had timetoutterone,wasunheard.</s>“Having secured him, it is evident to me that a consultationofsomesortwasheld. Probablyitwas something in the nature of a judicial proceeding. It musthavelastedforsometime,foritwasthenthat thesecigarsweresmoked. Theoldermansatinthat wickerchair;itwashewhousedthecigar-holder. The youngermansatoveryonder;heknockedhisashoff againstthechestofdrawers. Thethirdfellowpaced upanddown. Blessington,Ithink,satuprightinthe bed,butofthatIcannotbeabsolutelycertain.</s>“Well, it ended by their taking Blessington and hanginghim. Thematterwassoprearrangedthatitismybeliefthattheybroughtwiththemsomesortof blockorpulleywhichmightserveasagallows. That screw-driverandthosescrewswere,asIconceive,for fixingitup. Seeingthehook,howevertheynaturally saved themselves the trouble. Having finished their worktheymadeoff,andthedoorwasbarredbehind thembytheirconfederate.” Wehadalllistenedwiththedeepestinteresttothis sketch of the night’s doings, which Holmes had de- duced from signs so subtle and minute that, even when he had pointed them out to us, we could scarcely follow him in his reasoning. The inspector hurriedawayontheinstanttomakeinquiriesabout thepage,whileHolmesandIreturnedtoBakerStreet forbreakfast.</s>“I’llbebackbythree,”saidhe,whenwehadfin- ished our meal. “Both the inspector and the doctor will meet me here at that hour, and I hope by that timetohaveclearedupanylittleobscuritywhichthe casemaystillpresent.” Ourvisitorsarrivedattheappointedtime,butit wasaquartertofourbeforemyfriendputinanap- pearance. Fromhisexpressionasheentered,however, Icouldseethatallhadgonewellwithhim.</s>“Anynews,Inspector?” “Wehavegottheboy,sir.” “Excellent,andIhavegotthemen.” “Youhavegotthem!”wecried,allthree.</s>“Well, at least I have got their identity. This so- called Blessington is, as I expected, well known at headquarters,andsoarehisassailants. Theirnames areBiddle,Hayward,andMoffat.” “TheWorthingdonbankgang,”criedtheinspec- tor.</s>“Precisely,”saidHolmes.</s>“ThenBlessingtonmusthavebeenSutton.” “Exactly,”saidHolmes.</s>“Why, that makes it as clear as crystal,” said the inspector.</s>ButTrevelyanandIlookedateachotherinbewil- derment.</s>“You must surely remember the great Worthing- don bank business,” said Holmes. “Five men were in it—these four and a fifth called Cartwright. To- bin,thecare-taker,wasmurdered,andthethievesgot awaywithseventhousandpounds. Thiswasin1875.</s>Theywereallfivearrested,buttheevidenceagainst themwasbynomeansconclusive. ThisBlessington orSutton,whowastheworstofthegang,turnedin- former. OnhisevidenceCartwrightwashangedand the other three got fifteen years apiece. When they got out the other day, which was some years before theirfullterm,theysetthemselves,asyouperceive,to huntdownthetraitorandtoavengethedeathoftheir comrade upon him. Twice they tried to get at him andfailed;athirdtime,yousee,itcameoff. Isthere anythingfurtherwhichIcanexplain,Dr.Trevelyan?” “I think you have made it all remarkable clear,” saidthedoctor. “Nodoubtthedayonwhichhewas perturbed was the day when he had seen of their releaseinthenewspapers.” “Quiteso. Histalkaboutaburglarywasthemer- estblind.” “Butwhycouldhenottellyouthis?” “Well, my dear sir, knowing the vindictive char- acter of his old associates, he was trying to hide his ownidentityfromeverybodyaslongashecould. His secret was a shameful one, and he could not bring himselftodivulgeit. However,wretchashewas,he was still living under the shield of British law, and I have no doubt, Inspector, that you will see that, though that shield may fail to guard, the sword of justiceisstilltheretoavenge.” Such were the singular circumstances in connec- tion with the Resident Patient and the Brook Street Doctor. Fromthatnightnothinghasbeenseenofthe three murderers by the police, and it is surmised at ScotlandYardthattheywereamongthepassengers oftheill-fatedsteamerNorahCreina, whichwaslost someyearsagowithallhandsuponthePortuguese coast,someleaguestothenorthofOporto. Thepro- ceedings against the page broke down for want of evidence, and the Brook Street Mystery, as it was called, has never until now been fully dealt with in anypublicprint.uringmylongandintimateacquaintance withMr.SherlockHolmesIhadneverheard him refer to his relations, and hardly ever D to his own early life. This reticence upon hisparthadincreasedthesomewhatinhumaneffect whichheproduceduponme,untilsometimesIfound myselfregardinghimasanisolatedphenomenon,a brainwithoutaheart,asdeficientinhumansympathy ashewaspre-eminentinintelligence. Hisaversionto womenandhisdisinclinationtoformnewfriendships were both typical of his unemotional character, but notmoresothanhiscompletesuppressionofevery reference to his own people. I had come to believe that he was an orphan with no relatives living, but one day, to my very great surprise, he began to talk tomeabouthisbrother.</s>It was after tea on a summer evening, and the conversation,whichhadroamedinadesultory,spas- modic fashion from golf clubs to the causes of the changeintheobliquityoftheecliptic,cameroundat last to the question of atavism and hereditary apti- tudes. Thepointunderdiscussionwas,howfarany singulargiftinanindividualwasduetohisancestry andhowfartohisownearlytraining.</s>“Inyourowncase,”saidI,“fromallthatyouhave toldme,itseemsobviousthatyourfacultyofobserva- tionandyourpeculiarfacilityfordeductionaredue toyourownsystematictraining.” “Tosomeextent,”heanswered,thoughtfully. “My ancestorswerecountrysquires,whoappeartohave ledmuchthesamelifeasisnaturaltotheirclass. But, none the less, my turn that way is in my veins, and mayhavecomewithmygrandmother,whowasthe sisterofVernet,theFrenchartist. Artinthebloodis liabletotakethestrangestforms.” “Buthowdoyouknowthatitishereditary?” “Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a largerdegreethanIdo.” This was news to me indeed. If there were an- other man with such singular powers in England, howwas itthatneitherpolice norpublichadheard ofhim? Iputthequestion,withahintthatitwasmy companion’smodestywhichmadehimacknowledge his brother as his superior. Holmes laughed at my suggestion.</s>“MydearWatson,”saidhe,“Icannotagreewith those who rank modesty among the virtues. To the logicianallthingsshouldbeseenexactlyastheyare, and to underestimate one’s self is as much a depar- ture from truth as to exaggerate one’s own powers.</s>When I say, therefore, that Mycroft has better pow- ers of observation than I, you may take it that I am speakingtheexactandliteraltruth.” “Isheyourjunior?” “Sevenyearsmysenior.” “Howcomesitthatheisunknown?” “Oh,heisverywellknowninhisowncircle.” “Where,then?” “Well,intheDiogenesClub,forexample.” Ihadneverheardoftheinstitution,andmyface musthaveproclaimedasmuch,forSherlockHolmes pulledouthiswatch.</s>“The Diogenes Club is the queerest club in Lon- don, and Mycroft one of the queerest men. He’s always there from quarter to five to twenty to eight.</s>It’s six now, so if you care for a stroll this beautiful eveningIshallbeveryhappytointroduceyoutotwo curiosities.” Fiveminuteslaterwewereinthestreet,walking towardsRegent’sCircus.</s>“Youwonder,”saidmycompanion,“whyitisthat Mycroft does not usehis powers for detective work.</s>Heisincapableofit.” “ButIthoughtyousaid—” “Isaidthathewasmysuperiorinobservationand deduction. Iftheartofthedetectivebeganandended in reasoning from an arm-chair, my brother would bethegreatestcriminalagentthateverlived. Buthe hasnoambitionandnoenergy. Hewillnotevengo outofhiswaytoverifyhisownsolution,andwould ratherbeconsideredwrongthantakethetroubleto prove himself right. Again and again I have taken aproblemtohim,andhavereceivedanexplanation which has afterwards proved to be the correct one.</s>Andyethewasabsolutelyincapableofworkingout thepracticalpointswhichmustbegoneintobeforea casecouldbelaidbeforeajudgeorjury.” “Itisnothisprofession,then?” “By no means. What is to me a means of liveli- hood is to him the merest hobby of a dilettante. He has an extraordinary faculty for figures, and audits the books in some of the government departments.</s>MycroftlodgesinPallMall,andhewalksroundthe corner into Whitehall every morning and back ev- eryevening. Fromyear’sendtoyear’sendhetakes no other exercise, and is seen nowhere else, except onlyintheDiogenesClub,whichisjustoppositehis rooms.” “Icannotrecallthename.” “Very likely not. There are many men in Lon- don,youknow,who,somefromshyness,somefrommisanthropy,havenowishforthecompanyoftheir fellows. Yettheyarenotaversetocomfortablechairs andthelatestperiodicals. Itisfortheconvenienceof thesethattheDiogenesClubwasstarted,anditnow containsthemostunsociableandunclubablemenin town. Nomemberispermittedtotaketheleastnotice ofanyotherone. SaveintheStranger’sRoom,notalk- ing is, under any circumstances, allowed, and three offences, if brought to the notice of the committee, renderthetalkerliabletoexpulsion. Mybrotherwas oneofthefounders,andIhavemyselffounditavery soothingatmosphere.” WehadreachedPallMallaswetalked,andwere walking down it from the St. James’s end. Sherlock Holmes stopped at a door some little distance from theCarlton,and,cautioningmenottospeak,heled the way into the hall. Through the glass paneling I caught a glimpse of a large and luxurious room, in which a considerable number of men were sit- tingaboutandreadingpapers,eachinhisownlittle nook. Holmesshowedmeintoasmallchamberwhich looked out into Pall Mall, and then, leaving me for a minute, he came back with a companion whom I knewcouldonlybehisbrother.</s>Mycroft Holmes was a much larger and stouter man than Sherlock. His body was absolutely cor- pulent,buthisface,thoughmassive,hadpreserved somethingofthesharpnessofexpressionwhichwas soremarkableinthatofhisbrother. Hiseyes,which wereofapeculiarlylight,waterygray,seemedtoal- waysretainthatfar-away,introspectivelookwhichI hadonlyobservedinSherlock’swhenhewasexerting hisfullpowers.</s>“Iamgladtomeetyou,sir,”saidhe,puttingout abroad,fathandliketheflipperofaseal. “Ihearof Sherlockeverywheresinceyoubecamehischronicler.</s>Bytheway,Sherlock,Iexpectedtoseeyouroundlast week, to consult me over that Manor House case. I thoughtyoumightbealittleoutofyourdepth.” “No,Isolvedit,”saidmyfriend,smiling.</s>“ItwasAdams,ofcourse.” “Yes,itwasAdams.” “Iwassureofitfromthefirst.”Thetwosatdown together in the bow-window of the club. “To any one who wishes to study mankind this is the spot,” said Mycroft. “Look at the magnificent types! Look at these two men who are coming towards us, for example.” “Thebilliard-markerandtheother?” “Precisely. Whatdoyoumakeoftheother?” The two men had stopped opposite the window.</s>Somechalkmarksoverthewaistcoatpocketwerethe only signs of billiards which I could see in one of them. Theotherwasaverysmall,darkfellow,with hishatpushedbackandseveralpackagesunderhis arm.</s>“Anoldsoldier,Iperceive,”saidSherlock.</s>“And very recently discharged,” remarked the brother.</s>“ServedinIndia,Isee.” “Andanon-commissionedofficer.” “RoyalArtillery,Ifancy,”saidSherlock.</s>“Andawidower.” “Butwithachild.” “Children,mydearboy,children.” “Come,” said I, laughing, “this is a little too much.” “Surely,”answeredHolmes,“itisnothardtosay thatamanwiththatbearing,expressionofauthority, andsunbakedskin,isasoldier,ismorethanaprivate, andisnotlongfromIndia.” “Thathehasnotlefttheservicelongisshownby hisstillwearinghis‘ammunitionboots’,astheyare called,”observedMycroft.</s>“Hehadnotthecavalrystride,yetheworehishat on one side, as is shown by the lighter skin of that side of his brow. His weight is against his being a sapper. Heisintheartillery.” “Then, of course, his complete mourning shows thathehaslostsomeoneverydear. Thefactthathe isdoinghisownshoppinglooksasthoughitwerehis wife. Hehasbeenbuyingthingsforchildren,youper- ceive. Thereisarattle,whichshowsthatoneofthem is very young. The wife probably died in childbed.</s>The fact that he has a picture-book under his arm showsthatthereisanotherchildtobethoughtof.” Ibegantounderstandwhatmyfriendmeantwhen hesaidthathisbrotherpossessedevenkeenerfacul- tiesthathedidhimself. Heglancedacrossatmeand smiled. Mycrofttooksnufffromatortoise-shellbox, andbrushedawaythewanderinggrainsfromhiscoat frontwithalarge,redsilkhandkerchief.</s>“Bytheway,Sherlock,”saidhe,“Ihavehadsome- thing quite after your own heart—a most singular problem—submitted to my judgment. I really had not the energy to follow it up save in a very incom- pletefashion,butitgavemeabasisforsomepleasing speculation. Ifyouwouldcaretohearthefacts—” “MydearMycroft,Ishouldbedelighted.”The brother scribbled a note upon a leaf of his pocket-book,and,ringingthebell,hehandedittothe waiter.</s>“I have asked Mr. Melas to step across,” said he.</s>“He lodges on the floor above me, and I have some slightacquaintancewithhim,whichledhimtocome to me in his perplexity. Mr. Melas is a Greek by extraction, as I understand, and he is a remarkable linguist. He earns his living partly as interpreter in the law courts and partly by acting as guide to any wealthyOrientalswhomayvisittheNorthumberland Avenuehotels. IthinkIwillleavehimtotellhisvery remarkableexperienceinhisownfashion.” A few minutes later we were joined by a short, stout man whose olive face and coal-black hair pro- claimedhisSouthernorigin,thoughhisspeechwas that of an educated Englishman. He shook hands eagerly with Sherlock Holmes, and his dark eyes sparkledwithpleasurewhenheunderstoodthatthe specialistwasanxioustohearhisstory.</s>“I do not believe that the police credit me—on myword,Idonot,”saidheinawailingvoice. “Just becausetheyhaveneverheardofitbefore,theythink that such a thing cannot be. But I know that I shall neverbeeasyinmyminduntilIknowwhathasbe- comeofmypoormanwiththesticking-plasterupon hisface.” “Iamallattention,”saidSherlockHolmes.</s>“This is Wednesday evening,” said Mr. Melas.</s>“Wellthen,itwasMondaynight—onlytwodaysago, youunderstand—thatallthishappened. Iamanin- terpreter,asperhapsmyneighbortherehastoldyou.</s>Iinterpretalllanguages—ornearlyall—butasIam aGreekbybirthandwithaGrecianname,itiswith thatparticulartonguethatIamprincipallyassociated.</s>FormanyyearsIhavebeenthechiefGreekinterpreter in London, and my name isvery wellknown in the hotels.</s>IthappensnotunfrequentlythatIamsentforat strangehoursbyforeignerswhogetintodifficulties, orbytravelerswhoarrivelateandwishmyservices. I wasnotsurprised,therefore,onMondaynightwhen aMr.Latimer,averyfashionablydressedyoungman, came up to my rooms and asked me to accompany himinacabwhichwaswaitingatthedoor. AGreek friend had come to see him upon business, he said, and as he could speak nothing but his own tongue, theservicesofaninterpreterwereindispensable. He gavemetounderstandthathishousewassomelittle distance off, in Kensington, and he seemed to be in agreathurry,bustlingmerapidlyintothecabwhen wehaddescendedtothestreet.</s>“I say into the cab, but I soon became doubtful astowhetheritwasnotacarriageinwhichIfound myself. It was certainly more roomy than the or- dinary four-wheeled disgrace to London, and the fittings, though frayed, were of rich quality. Mr. La- timer seated himself opposite to me and we started offthroughCharingCrossanduptheShaftesburyAv- enue. WehadcomeoutuponOxfordStreetandIhad venturedsomeremarkastothisbeingaroundabout waytoKensington,whenmywordswerearrestedby theextraordinaryconductofmycompanion.</s>“Hebeganbydrawingamostformidable-looking bludgeon loaded with lead from his pocket, and switchingitbackwardandforwardseveraltimes,as if to test its weight and strength. Then he placed it without a word upon the seat beside him. Having donethis,hedrewupthewindowsoneachside,and I found to my astonishment that they were covered withpapersoastopreventmyseeingthroughthem.</s>“‘Iamsorrytocutoffyourview,Mr.Melas,’said he. ‘The fact is that I have no intention that you shouldseewhattheplaceistowhichwearedriving.</s>Itmightpossiblybeinconvenienttomeifyoucould findyourwaythereagain.’ “As you can imagine, I was utterly taken aback bysuchanaddress. Mycompanionwasapowerful, broad-shoulderedyoungfellow,and,apartfromthe weapon,Ishouldnothavehadtheslightestchancein astrugglewithhim.</s>“‘Thisisveryextraordinaryconduct,Mr.Latimer,’ Istammered. ‘Youmustbeawarethatwhatyouare doingisquiteillegal.’ “‘It is somewhat of a liberty, no doubt,’ said he, ‘butwe’llmakeituptoyou. Imustwarnyou, how- ever, Mr. Melas, that if at any time to-night you attempt to raise an alarm or do anything which is against my interests, you will find it a very serious thing. I beg you to remember that no one knows whereyouare,andthat,whetheryouareinthiscar- riageorinmyhouse,youareequallyinmypower.’ “Hiswordswerequiet,buthehadaraspingway of saying them which was very menacing. I sat in silence wondering what on earth could be his rea- sonforkidnappingmeinthisextraordinaryfashion.</s>Whateveritmightbe,itwasperfectlyclearthatthere wasnopossibleuseinmyresisting,andthatIcould onlywaittoseewhatmightbefall.</s>“Fornearlytwohourswedrovewithoutmyhav- ingtheleastclueastowhereweweregoing. Some- timestherattleofthestonestoldofapavedcauseway,andatothersoursmooth,silentcoursesuggestedas- phalt;but,savebythisvariationinsound,therewas nothingatallwhichcouldintheremotestwayhelp metoformaguessastowherewewere. Thepaper over each window was impenetrable to light, and a bluecurtainwasdrawnacrosstheglassworkinfront.</s>It was a quarter-past seven when we left Pall Mall, andmywatchshowedmethatitwastenminutesto nine when we at last came to a standstill. My com- panionletdownthewindow,andIcaughtaglimpse ofalow,archeddoorwaywithalampburningabove it. AsIwashurriedfromthecarriageitswungopen, and I found myself inside the house, with a vague impression of a lawn and trees on each side of me as I entered. Whether these were private grounds, however,orbona-fidecountrywasmorethanIcould possiblyventuretosay.</s>“Therewasacoloredgas-lampinsidewhichwas turnedsolowthatIcouldseelittlesavethatthehall was of some size and hung with pictures. In the dimlightIcouldmakeoutthatthepersonwhohad openedthedoorwasasmall,mean-looking,middle- aged man with rounded shoulders. As he turned towards us the glint of the light showed me that he waswearingglasses.</s>“‘IsthisMr.Melas,Harold?’ saidhe.</s>“‘Yes.’ “‘Well done, well done! No ill-will, Mr. Melas, I hope, but we could not get on without you. If you dealfairwithusyou’llnotregretit,butifyoutryany tricks, God help you!’ He spoke in a nervous, jerky fashion, and with little giggling laughs in between, butsomehowheimpressedmewithfearmorethan theother.</s>“‘Whatdoyouwantwithme?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Only to ask a few questions of a Greek gentle- manwhoisvisitingus,andtoletushavetheanswers.</s>Butsaynomorethanyouaretoldtosay,or—’here camethenervousgiggleagain—‘youhadbetternever havebeenborn.’ “As he spoke he opened a door and showed the way into a room which appeared to be very richly furnished, but again the only light was afforded by a single lamp half-turned down. The chamber was certainly large, and the way in which my feet sank into the carpet as I stepped across it told me of its richness. I caught glimpses of velvet chairs, a high whitemarblemantel-piece,andwhatseemedtobea suitofJapanesearmoratonesideofit. Therewasa chair just under the lamp, and the elderly man mo- tionedthatIshouldsitinit. Theyoungerhadleftus, buthesuddenlyreturnedthroughanotherdoor,lead- ingwithhimagentlemancladinsomesortofloose dressing-gownwhomovedslowlytowardsus. Ashe came into the circle of dim light which enabled me toseehimmoreclearlyIwasthrilledwithhorrorat hisappearance. Hewasdeadlypaleandterriblyema- ciated, with the protruding, brilliant eyes of a man whosespiritwasgreaterthanhisstrength. Butwhat shocked me more than any signs of physical weak- nesswasthathisfacewasgrotesquelycriss-crossed withsticking-plaster,andthatonelargepadofitwas fastenedoverhismouth.</s>“‘Have you the slate, Harold?’ cried the older man, as thisstrange being fell rather than sat down into a chair. ‘Are his hands loose? Now, then, give him the pencil. You are to ask the questions, Mr.</s>Melas, and he will write the answers. Ask him first ofallwhetherheispreparedtosignthepapers?’ “Theman’seyesflashedfire.</s>“‘Never!’ hewroteinGreekupontheslate.</s>“‘Onnocondition?’ Iasked,atthebiddingofour tyrant.</s>“‘Only if I see her married in my presence by a GreekpriestwhomIknow.’ “Themangiggledinhisvenomousway.</s>“‘Youknowwhatawaitsyou,then?’ “‘Icarenothingformyself.’ “Thesearesamplesofthequestionsandanswers whichmadeupourstrangehalf-spoken,half-written conversation. Again and again I had to ask him whether he would give in and sign the documents.</s>AgainandagainIhadthesameindignantreply. But soonahappythoughtcametome. Itooktoaddingon littlesentencesofmyowntoeachquestion,innocent onesatfirst,totestwhethereitherofourcompanions knew anything of the matter, and then, as I found thattheyshowednosignsIplayedamoredangerous game. Ourconversationransomethinglikethis: “‘Youcandonogoodbythisobstinacy. Whoare you?’ “‘Icarenot. IamastrangerinLondon.’ “‘Yourfatewillbeuponyourownhead. Howlong haveyoubeenhere?’ “‘Letitbeso. Threeweeks.’ “‘Thepropertycanneverbeyours. Whatailsyou?’ “‘Itshallnotgotovillains. Theyarestarvingme.’ “‘Youshallgofreeifyousign. Whathouseisthis?’ “‘Iwillneversign. Idonotknow.’ “‘Youarenotdoingheranyservice. Whatisyour name?’“‘Letmehearhersayso. Kratides.’ “‘You shall see her if you sign. Where are you from?’ “‘ThenIshallneverseeher. Athens.’ “Anotherfiveminutes,Mr.Holmes,andIshould have wormed out the whole story under their very noses. Myverynextquestionmighthaveclearedthe matter up, but at that instant the door opened and awomansteppedintotheroom. Icouldnotseeher clearly enough to know more than that she was tall and graceful, with black hair, and clad in some sort ofloosewhitegown.</s>“‘Harold,’saidshe,speakingEnglishwithabro- ken accent. ‘I could not stay away longer. It is so lonelyuptherewithonly—Oh,myGod,itisPaul!’ “TheselastwordswereinGreek,andatthesame instantthemanwithaconvulsiveefforttoretheplas- terfromhislips,andscreamingout‘Sophy! Sophy!’ rushedintothewoman’sarms. Theirembracewasbut foraninstant,however,fortheyoungermanseized the woman and pushed her out of the room, while the elder easily overpowered his emaciated victim, anddraggedhimawaythroughtheotherdoor. Fora momentIwasleftaloneintheroom,andIsprangto my feet with some vague idea that I might in some way get a clue to what this house was in which I foundmyself. Fortunately,however,Itooknosteps, forlookingupIsawthattheoldermanwasstanding inthedoor-waywithhiseyesfixeduponme.</s>“‘Thatwilldo,Mr.Melas,’saidhe. ‘Youperceive thatwehavetakenyouintoourconfidenceoversome very private business. We should not have troubled you,onlythatourfriendwhospeaksGreekandwho began these negotiations has been forced to return to the East. It was quite necessary for us to find someonetotakehisplace,andwewerefortunatein hearingofyourpowers.’ “Ibowed.</s>“‘Therearefivesovereignshere,’saidhe,walking uptome,‘whichwill,Ihope,beasufficientfee. But remember,’headded,tappingmelightlyonthechest and giggling, ‘if you speak to a human soul about this—one human soul, mind—well, may God have mercyuponyoursoul!’ “I cannot tell you the loathing and horror with which this insignificant-looking man inspired me. I could see him better now as the lamp-light shone uponhim. Hisfeatureswerepeakyandsallow,and hislittlepointedbeardwasthreadyandill-nourished.</s>Hepushedhisfaceforwardashespokeandhislips and eyelids were continually twitching like a man withSt.Vitus’sdance. Icouldnothelpthinkingthat hisstrange,catchylittlelaughwasalsoasymptomof somenervousmalady. Theterrorofhisfacelayinhis eyes,however,steelgray,andglisteningcoldlywitha malignant,inexorablecrueltyintheirdepths.</s>“‘Weshallknowifyouspeakofthis,’saidhe. ‘We have our own means of information. Now you will findthecarriagewaiting,andmyfriendwillseeyou onyourway.’ “Iwashurriedthroughthehallandintothevehi- cle,againobtainingthatmomentaryglimpseoftrees and a garden. Mr. Latimer followed closely at my heels, and took his place opposite to me without a word. Insilenceweagaindroveforaninterminable distance with the windows raised, until at last, just aftermidnight,thecarriagepulledup.</s>“‘You will get down here, Mr. Melas,’ said my companion. ‘Iamsorrytoleaveyousofarfromyour house,butthereisnoalternative. Anyattemptupon yourparttofollowthecarriagecanonlyendininjury toyourself.’ “Heopenedthedoorashespoke,andIhadhardly time to spring out when the coachman lashed the horseandthecarriagerattledaway. Ilookedaround meinastonishment. Iwasonsomesortofaheathy common mottled over with dark clumps of furze- bushes. Far away stretched a line of houses, with a light here and there in the upper windows. On the othersideIsawtheredsignal-lampsofarailway.</s>“Thecarriagewhichhadbroughtmewasalready out of sight. I stood gazing round and wondering where on earth I might be, when I saw some one comingtowardsmeinthedarkness. Ashecameup tomeImadeoutthathewasarailwayporter.</s>“‘Canyoutellmewhatplacethisis?’ Iasked.</s>“‘WandsworthCommon,’saidhe.</s>“‘CanIgetatrainintotown?’ “‘IfyouwalkonamileorsotoClaphamJunction,’ saidhe,‘you’lljustbeintimeforthelasttoVictoria.’ “Sothatwastheendofmyadventure,Mr.Holmes.</s>IdonotknowwhereIwas,norwhomIspokewith, noranythingsavewhatIhavetoldyou. ButIknow that there is foul play going on, and I want to help thatunhappymanifIcan. Itoldthewholestoryto Mr.MycroftHolmesnextmorning,andsubsequently tothepolice.” We all sat in silence for some little time after lis- teningtothisextraordinarynarrative. ThenSherlock lookedacrossathisbrother.“Anysteps?”heasked.</s>MycroftpickeduptheDailyNews,whichwasly- ingontheside-table.</s>“Anybody supplying any information as to the whereabouts of a Greek gentleman named Paul Kratides, from Athens, who is unable to speak English, will be rewarded. A simi- larrewardpaidtoanyonegivinginformation aboutaGreekladywhosefirstnameisSophy.</s>X2473.</s>“Thatwasinallthedailies. Noanswer.” “HowabouttheGreekLegation?” “Ihaveinquired. Theyknownothing.” “AwiretotheheadoftheAthenspolice,then?” “Sherlock has all the energy of the family,” said Mycroft, turningtome. “Well, youtake thecaseup byallmeans,andletmeknowifyoudoanygood.” “Certainly,”answeredmyfriend,risingfromhis chair. “I’ll let you know, and Mr. Melas also. In the meantime, Mr. Melas, I should certainly be on my guard, if I were you, for of course they must know throughtheseadvertisementsthatyouhavebetrayed them.” Aswewalkedhometogether,Holmesstoppedat atelegraphofficeandsentoffseveralwires.</s>“Yousee,Watson,”heremarked,“oureveninghas been by no means wasted. Some of my most inter- esting cases have come to me in this way through Mycroft. Theproblemwhichwehavejustlistenedto, althoughitcanadmitofbutoneexplanation,hasstill somedistinguishingfeatures.” “Youhavehopesofsolvingit?” “Well, knowing as much as we do, it will be sin- gularindeedifwefailtodiscovertherest. Youmust yourselfhaveformedsometheorywhichwillexplain thefactstowhichwehavelistened.” “Inavagueway,yes.” “Whatwasyouridea,then?” “ItseemedtometobeobviousthatthisGreekgirl hadbeencarriedoffbytheyoungEnglishmannamed HaroldLatimer.” “Carriedofffromwhere?” “Athens,perhaps.” Sherlock Holmes shook his head. “This young mancouldnottalkawordofGreek. Theladycould talkEnglishfairlywell. Inference—thatshehadbeen in England some little time, but he had not been in Greece.” “Well, then, we will presume that she had come on a visit to England, and that this Harold had per- suadedhertoflywithhim.” “Thatismoreprobable.” “Thenthebrother—forthat,Ifancy,mustbethe relationship—comes over from Greece to interfere.</s>He imprudently puts himself into the power of the young man and his older associate. They seize him anduseviolencetowardshiminordertomakehim signsomepaperstomakeoverthegirl’sfortune—of whichhemaybetrustee—tothem. Thisherefusesto do. In order to negotiate with him they have to get an interpreter, and they pitch upon this Mr. Melas, having used some other one before. The girl is not toldofthearrivalofherbrother, andfindsitoutby themerestaccident.” “Excellent,Watson!”criedHolmes. “Ireallyfancy that you are not far from the truth. You see that we hold all the cards, and we have only to fear some sudden act of violence on their part. If they give us timewemusthavethem.” “Buthowcanwefindwherethishouselies?” “Well, if our conjecture is correct and the girl’s name is or was Sophy Kratides, we should have no difficultyintracingher. Thatmustbeourmainhope, forthebrotheris,ofcourse,acompletestranger. Itis clearthatsometimehaselapsedsincethisHaroldes- tablishedtheserelationswiththegirl—someweeks,at anyrate—sincethebrotherinGreecehashadtimeto hearofitandcomeacross. Iftheyhavebeenlivingin thesameplaceduringthistime,itisprobablethatwe shallhavesomeanswertoMycroft’sadvertisement.” We had reached our house in Baker Street while wehadbeentalking. Holmesascendedthestairfirst, andasheopenedthedoorofourroomhegaveastart ofsurprise. Lookingoverhisshoulder,Iwasequally astonished. HisbrotherMycroftwassittingsmoking inthearm-chair.</s>“Comein,Sherlock! Comein,sir,”saidheblandly, smilingatoursurprisedfaces. “Youdon’texpectsuch energyfromme,doyou,Sherlock? Butsomehowthis caseattractsme.” “Howdidyougethere?” “Ipassedyouinahansom.” “Therehasbeensomenewdevelopment?” “Ihadananswertomyadvertisement.” “Ah!” “Yes, it came within a few minutes of your leav- ing.”“Andtowhateffect?” MycroftHolmestookoutasheetofpaper.</s>“Here it is,” said he, “written with a J pen on royalcreampaperbyamiddle-agedmanwithaweak constitution.</s>“Sir[hesays]: “Inanswertoyouradvertisementofto- day’sdate,IbegtoinformyouthatIknow the young lady in question very well. If you should care to call upon me I could giveyousomeparticularsastoherpainful history. SheislivingatpresentatTheMyr- tles,Beckenham.</s>—“Yoursfaithfully, “J.Davenport.</s>“He writes from Lower Brixton,” said Mycroft Holmes. “Do you not think that we might drive to himnow,Sherlock,andlearntheseparticulars?” “MydearMycroft,thebrother’slifeismorevalu- ablethanthesister’sstory. Ithinkweshouldcallat ScotlandYardforInspectorGregson,andgostraight outtoBeckenham. Weknowthatamanisbeingdone todeath,andeveryhourmaybevital.” “BetterpickupMr.Melasonourway,”Isuggested.</s>“Wemayneedaninterpreter.” “Excellent,”saidSherlockHolmes. “Sendtheboy for a four-wheeler, and we shall be off at once.” He opened the table-drawer as he spoke, and I noticed that he slipped his revolver into his pocket. “Yes,” saidhe,inanswertomyglance; “Ishouldsayfrom whatwehaveheard,thatwearedealingwithapar- ticularlydangerousgang.” Itwasalmostdarkbeforewefoundourselvesin Pall Mall, at the rooms of Mr. Melas. A gentleman hadjustcalledforhim,andhewasgone.</s>“Canyoutellmewhere?”askedMycroftHolmes.</s>“Idon’tknow,sir,”answeredthewomanwhohad opened the door; “I only know that he drove away withthegentlemaninacarriage.” “Didthegentlemangiveaname?” “No,sir.” “Hewasn’tatall,handsome,darkyoungman?” “Oh, no, sir. He was a little gentleman, with glasses,thinintheface,butverypleasantinhisways, forhewaslaughingallthetimethathewastalking.” “Come along!” cried Sherlock Holmes, abruptly.</s>“This grows serious,” he observed, as we drove to Scotland Yard. “These men have got hold of Melas again. He is a man of no physical courage, as they arewellawarefromtheirexperiencetheothernight.</s>Thisvillainwasabletoterrorizehimtheinstantthat he got into his presence. No doubt they want his professionalservices,but,havingusedhim,theymay beinclinedtopunishhimforwhattheywillregard ashistreachery.” Ourhopewasthat,bytakingtrain,wemightget toBeckenhamassoonorsoonerthanthecarriage. On reaching Scotland Yard, however, it was more than anhourbeforewecouldgetInspectorGregsonand complywiththelegalformalitieswhichwouldenable us to enter the house. It was a quarter to ten before wereachedLondonBridge,andhalfpastbeforethe four of us alighted on the Beckenham platform. A drive of half a mile brought us to The Myrtles—a large,darkhousestandingbackfromtheroadinits owngrounds. Herewedismissedourcab,andmade ourwayupthedrivetogether.</s>“Thewindowsarealldark,”remarkedtheinspec- tor. “Thehouseseemsdeserted.” “Our birds are flown and the nest empty,” said Holmes.</s>“Whydoyousayso?” “A carriage heavily loaded with luggage has passedoutduringthelasthour.” Theinspectorlaughed. “Isawthewheel-tracksin thelightofthegate-lamp,butwheredoestheluggage comein?” “You may have observed the same wheel-tracks going the other way. But the outward-bound ones were very much deeper—so much so that we can sayforacertaintythattherewasaveryconsiderable weightonthecarriage.” “Yougetatriflebeyondmethere,”saidtheinspec- tor, shrugging his shoulder. “It will not be an easy doortoforce,butwewilltryifwecannotmakesome onehearus.” Hehammeredloudlyattheknockerandpulledat thebell,butwithoutanysuccess. Holmeshadslipped away,buthecamebackinafewminutes.</s>“Ihaveawindowopen,”saidhe.</s>“Itisamercythatyouareonthesideoftheforce, andnotagainstit,Mr.Holmes,”remarkedtheinspec- tor,ashenotedthecleverwayinwhichmyfriendhad forced back the catch. “Well, I think that under the circumstanceswemayenterwithoutaninvitation.” Oneaftertheotherwemadeourwayintoalarge apartment, which was evidently that in which Mr.</s>Melas had found himself. The inspector had lit his lantern,andbyitslightwecouldseethetwodoors,thecurtain,thelamp,andthesuitofJapanesemailas hehaddescribedthem. Onthetablelaytwoglasses, andemptybrandy-bottle,andtheremainsofameal.</s>“Whatisthat?”askedHolmes,suddenly.</s>We all stood still and listened. A low moaning soundwascomingfromsomewhereoverourheads.</s>Holmesrushedtothedoorandoutintothehall. The dismalnoisecamefromupstairs. Hedashedup,the inspectorandIathisheels,whilehisbrotherMycroft followedasquicklyashisgreatbulkwouldpermit.</s>Threedoorsfacedupuponthesecondfloor,andit wasfromthecentralofthesethatthesinistersounds wereissuing,sinkingsometimesintoadullmumble andrisingagainintoashrillwhine. Itwaslocked,but the key had been left on the outside. Holmes flung openthedoorandrushedin,buthewasoutagainin aninstant,withhishandtohisthroat.</s>“It’s charcoal,” he cried. “Give it time. It will clear.” Peeringin,wecouldseethattheonlylightinthe room came from a dull blue flame which flickered fromasmallbrasstripodinthecentre. Itthrewalivid, unnaturalcircleuponthefloor,whileintheshadows beyondwesawthevagueloomoftwofigureswhich crouchedagainstthewall. Fromtheopendoorthere reekedahorriblepoisonousexhalationwhichsetus gaspingandcoughing. Holmesrushedtothetopof thestairstodrawinthefreshair,andthen,dashing into the room, he threw up the window and hurled thebrazentripodoutintothegarden.</s>“We can enter in a minute,” he gasped, darting out again. “Where is a candle? I doubt if we could strikeamatchinthatatmosphere. Holdthelightat thedoorandweshallgetthemout,Mycroft. Now!” With a rush we got to the poisoned men and draggedthemoutintothewell-lithall. Bothofthem were blue-lipped and insensible, with swollen, con- gestedfacesandprotrudingeyes. Indeed,sodistorted weretheirfeaturesthat,saveforhisblackbeardand stoutfigure,wemighthavefailedtorecognizeinone ofthemtheGreekinterpreterwhohadpartedfrom usonlyafewhoursbeforeattheDiogenesClub. His handsandfeetweresecurelystrappedtogether,and heboreoveroneeyethemarksofaviolentblow. The other, who was secured in a similar fashion, was a tallmaninthelaststageofemaciation,withseveral stripsofsticking-plasterarrangedinagrotesquepat- ternoverhisface. Hehadceasedtomoanaswelaid him down, and a glance showed me that for him at leastouraidhadcometoolate. Mr.Melas,however, still lived, and in less than an hour, with the aid of ammoniaandbrandyIhadthesatisfactionofseeing himopenhiseyes,andofknowingthatmyhandhad drawn him back from that dark valley in which all pathsmeet.</s>Itwasasimplestorywhichhehadtotell,andone whichdidbutconfirmourowndeductions. Hisvisi- tor,onenteringhisrooms,haddrawnalife-preserver fromhissleeve,andhadsoimpressedhimwiththe fear of instant and inevitable death that he had kid- napped him for the second time. Indeed, it was al- mostmesmeric,theeffectwhichthisgigglingruffian had produced upon the unfortunate linguist, for he could not speak of him save with trembling hands andablanchedcheek. Hehadbeentakenswiftlyto Beckenham,andhadactedasinterpreterinasecond interview,evenmoredramaticthanthefirst,inwhich thetwoEnglishmenhadmenacedtheirprisonerwith instantdeathifhedidnotcomplywiththeirdemands.</s>Finally,findinghimproofagainsteverythreat,they had hurled him back into his prison, and after re- proachingMelaswithhistreachery,whichappeared fromthenewspaperadvertisement,theyhadstunned him with a blow from a stick, and he remembered nothingmoreuntilhefoundusbendingoverhim.</s>AndthiswasthesingularcaseoftheGrecianIn- terpreter, the explanation of which is still involved in some mystery. We were able to find out, by com- municating with the gentleman who had answered the advertisement, that the unfortunate young lady came of a wealthy Grecian family, and that she had been on a visit to some friends in England. While there she had met a young man named Harold La- timer,whohadacquiredanascendancyoverherand had eventually persuaded her to fly with him. Her friends, shocked at the event, had contented them- selveswithinformingherbrotheratAthens,andhad then washed their hands of the matter. The brother, on his arrival in England, had imprudently placed himselfinthepowerofLatimerandofhisassociate, whosenamewasWilsonKemp—amanofthefoulest antecedents. Thesetwo,findingthatthroughhisigno- ranceofthelanguagehewashelplessintheirhands, hadkepthimaprisoner,andhadendeavoredbycru- elty and starvation to make him sign away his own and his sister’s property. They had kept him in the housewithoutthegirl’sknowledge,andtheplaster over the face had been for the purpose of making recognition difficult in case she should ever catch a glimpse of him. Her feminine perception, however, hadinstantlyseenthroughthedisguisewhen,onthe occasion of the interpreter’s visit, she had seen him forthefirsttime. Thepoorgirl,however,washerselfaprisoner,fortherewasnooneaboutthehouseexcept themanwhoactedascoachman,andhiswife,both ofwhomweretoolsoftheconspirators. Findingthat theirsecretwasout,andthattheirprisonerwasnot tobecoerced,thetwovillainswiththegirlhadfled awayatafewhours’noticefromthefurnishedhouse which they had hired, having first, as they thought, takenvengeancebothuponthemanwhohaddefied andtheonewhohadbetrayedthem.</s>Months afterwards a curious newspaper cutting reachedusfromBuda-Pesth. IttoldhowtwoEnglish- menwhohadbeentravelingwithawomanhadmet with a tragic end. They had each been stabbed, it seems,andtheHungarianpolicewereofopinionthat theyhadquarreledandhadinflictedmortalinjuries upon each other. Holmes, however, is, I fancy, of a differentwayofthinking,andholdstothisdaythat, if one could find the Grecian girl, one might learn howthewrongsofherselfandherbrothercametobe avenged.he July which immediately succeeded my marriage was made memorable by three cases of interest, in which I had the priv- T ilege of being associated with Sherlock Holmes and of studying his methods. I find them recordedinmynotesundertheheadingsof“TheAd- ventureoftheSecondStain,”“TheAdventureofthe NavalTreaty,”and“TheAdventureoftheTiredCap- tain.”Thefirstofthese,however,dealswithinterest ofsuchimportanceandimplicatessomanyofthefirst families in the kingdom that for many years it will be impossible to make it public. No case, however, in which Holmes was engaged has ever illustrated thevalueofhisanalyticalmethodssoclearlyorhas impressed those who were associated with him so deeply. I still retain an almost verbatim report of the interview in which he demonstrated the true facts ofthecasetoMonsieurDubugueoftheParispolice, andFritz vonWaldbaum, thewell-known specialist ofDantzig,bothofwhomhadwastedtheirenergies upon what proved to be side-issues. The new cen- tury will have come, however, before the story can be safely told. Meanwhile I pass on to the second on my list, which promised also at one time to be of national importance, and was marked by several incidentswhichgiveitaquiteuniquecharacter.</s>Duringmyschool-daysIhadbeenintimatelyas- sociated with a lad named Percy Phelps, who was ofmuchthesameageasmyself,thoughhewastwo classesaheadofme. Hewasaverybrilliantboy,and carriedawayeveryprizewhichtheschoolhadtoof- fer, finishing his exploits by winning a scholarship whichsenthimontocontinuehistriumphantcareer at Cambridge. He was, I remember, extremely well connected,andevenwhenwewerealllittleboysto- getherweknewthathismother’sbrotherwasLord Holdhurst, the great conservative politician. This gaudyrelationshipdidhimlittlegoodatschool. On thecontrary,itseemedratherapiquantthingtousto chevyhimabouttheplaygroundandhithimoverthe shins with a wicket. But it was another thing when hecameoutintotheworld. Iheardvaguelythathis abilitiesandtheinfluenceswhichhecommandedhad won him a good position at the Foreign Office, and thenhepassedcompletelyoutofmyminduntilthe followingletterrecalledhisexistence: Briarbrae,Woking.</s>MydearWatson: Ihavenodoubtthatyoucanremember “Tadpole” Phelps, who was in the fifth formwhenyouwereinthethird. Itispos- sible even that you may have heard that through my uncle’s influence I obtained agoodappointmentattheForeignOffice, and that I was in a situation of trust and honor until a horrible misfortune came suddenlytoblastmycareer.</s>There is no use writing of the details of that dreadful event. In the event of your acceding to my request it is proba- ble that I shall have to narrate them to you. Ihaveonlyjustrecoveredfromnine weeksofbrain-fever,andamstillexceed- inglyweak. Doyouthinkthatyoucould bringyourfriendMr.Holmesdowntosee me? I should like to have his opinion of thecase,thoughtheauthoritiesassureme thatnothingmorecanbedone. Dotryto bringhimdown,andassoonaspossible.</s>EveryminuteseemsanhourwhileIlivein thisstateofhorriblesuspense. Assurehim thatifIhavenotaskedhisadvicesooner itwasnotbecauseIdidnotappreciatehis talents, but because I have been off my head ever since the blow fell. Now I am clear again, though I dare not think of it toomuchforfearofarelapse. Iamstillso weak that I have to write, as you see, by dictating. Dotrytobringhim.</s>—Youroldschool-fellow, PercyPhelps.</s>There was something that touched me as I read thisletter,somethingpitiableinthereiteratedappeals to bring Holmes. So moved was I that even had it been a difficult matter I should have tried it, but of courseIknewwellthatHolmeslovedhisart,sothat he was ever as ready to bring his aid as his client could be to receive it. My wife agreed with me that not a moment should be lost in laying the matter beforehim,andsowithinanhourofbreakfast-time I found myself back once more in the old rooms in BakerStreet.</s>Holmes was seated at his side-table clad in his dressing-gown, and working hard over a chemical investigation. Alargecurvedretortwasboilingfuri- ouslyinthebluishflameofaBunsenburner,andthe distilleddropswerecondensingintoatwo-litremea- sure. MyfriendhardlyglancedupasIentered,andI, seeing that his investigation must be of importance, seatedmyselfinanarm-chairandwaited. Hedipped into this bottle or that, drawing out a few drops of eachwithhisglasspipette,andfinallybroughtatest- tube containing a solution over to the table. In his righthandheheldaslipoflitmus-paper.“You come at a crisis, Watson,” said he. “If this paperremainsblue,alliswell. Ifitturnsred,itmeans a man’s life.” He dipped it into the test-tube and it flushed at once into a dull, dirty crimson. “Hum! I thoughtasmuch!”hecried. “Iwillbeatyourservice in an instant, Watson. You will find tobacco in the Persianslipper.”Heturnedtohisdeskandscribbled offseveraltelegrams,whichwerehandedovertothe page-boy. Thenhethrewhimselfdownintothechair opposite, and drew up his knees until his fingers claspedroundhislong,thinshins.</s>“A very commonplace little murder,” said he.</s>“You’ve got something better, I fancy. You are the stormypetrelofcrime,Watson. Whatisit?” I handed him the letter, which he read with the mostconcentratedattention.</s>“It does not tell us very much, does it?” he re- marked,ashehandeditbacktome.</s>“Hardlyanything.” “Andyetthewritingisofinterest.” “Butthewritingisnothisown.” “Precisely. Itisawoman’s.” “Aman’ssurely,”Icried.</s>“No, a woman’s, and a woman of rare character.</s>You see, at the commencement of an investigation it is something to know that your client is in close contactwithsomeonewho,forgoodorevil,hasan exceptionalnature. Myinterestisalreadyawakened inthecase. Ifyouarereadywewillstartatoncefor Woking,andseethisdiplomatistwhoisinsuchevil case,andtheladytowhomhedictateshisletters.” Wewerefortunateenoughtocatchanearlytrain at Waterloo, and in a little under an hour we found ourselves among the fir-woods and the heather of Woking. Briarbrae proved to be a large detached house standing in extensive grounds within a few minutes’walkofthestation. Onsendinginourcards wewereshownintoanelegantlyappointeddrawing- room, where we were joined in a few minutes by a ratherstoutmanwhoreceiveduswithmuchhospi- tality. Hisagemayhavebeennearerfortythanthirty, buthischeeksweresoruddyandhiseyessomerry thathestillconveyedtheimpressionofaplumpand mischievousboy.</s>“Iamsogladthatyouhavecome,”saidhe,shak- ingourhandswitheffusion. “Percyhasbeeninquir- ingforyouallmorning. Ah,pooroldchap,heclings toanystraw! Hisfatherandhismotheraskedmeto see you, for the mere mention of the subject is very painfultothem.” “We have had no details yet,” observed Holmes.</s>“Iperceivethatyouarenotyourselfamemberofthe family.” Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then, glancingdown,hebegantolaugh.</s>“Of course you saw the J H monogram on my locket,” said he. “For a moment I thought you had donesomethingclever. JosephHarrisonismyname, and as Percy is to marry my sister Annie I shall at leastbearelationbymarriage. Youwillfindmysister in his room, for she has nursed him hand-and-foot this two months back. Perhaps we’d better go in at once,forIknowhowimpatientheis.” Thechamberinwhichwewereshownwasonthe same floor as the drawing-room. It was furnished partlyasasittingandpartlyasabedroom,withflow- ers arranged daintily in every nook and corner. A young man, very pale and worn, was lying upon a sofaneartheopenwindow,throughwhichcamethe rich scent of the garden and the balmy summer air.</s>A woman was sitting beside him, who rose as we entered.</s>“ShallIleave,Percy?”sheasked.</s>He clutched her hand to detain her. “How are you,Watson?”saidhe,cordially. “Ishouldneverhave knownyouunderthatmoustache,andIdaresayyou wouldnotbepreparedtosweartome. ThisIpresume isyourcelebratedfriend,Mr.SherlockHolmes?” I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down. The stout young man had left us, but his sister still remained with her hand in that of the in- valid. Shewasastriking-lookingwoman,alittleshort and thick for symmetry, but with a beautiful olive complexion,large,dark,Italianeyes,andawealthof deep black hair. Her rich tints made the white face ofhercompanionthemorewornandhaggardbythe contrast.</s>“Iwon’twasteyourtime,”saidhe,raisinghimself upon the sofa. “I’ll plunge into the matter without furtherpreamble. Iwasahappyandsuccessfulman, Mr.Holmes,andontheeveofbeingmarried,when a sudden and dreadful misfortune wrecked all my prospectsinlife.</s>“Iwas, as Watson may havetold you, intheFor- eignOffice,andthroughtheinfluencesofmyuncle, LordHoldhurst,Iroserapidlytoaresponsibleposi- tion. Whenmyunclebecameforeignministerinthis administrationhegavemeseveralmissionsoftrust, andasIalwaysbroughtthemtoasuccessfulconclu- sion,hecameatlasttohavetheutmostconfidencein myabilityandtact.“Nearlytenweeksago—tobemoreaccurate,on the twenty-third of May—he called me into his pri- vateroom,and,aftercomplimentingmeonthegood workwhichIhaddone,heinformedmethathehad anewcommissionoftrustformetoexecute.</s>“‘This,’saidhe,takingagrayrollofpaperfrom his bureau, ‘is the original of that secret treaty be- tween England and Italy of which, I regret to say, somerumorshavealreadygotintothepublicpress.</s>It is of enormous importance that nothing further shouldleakout. TheFrenchortheRussianembassy would pay an immense sum to learn the contents of these papers. They should not leave my bureau wereitnotthatitisabsolutelynecessarytohavethem copied. Youhaveadeskinyouroffice?’ “‘Yes,sir.’ “‘Thentakethetreatyandlockitupthere. Ishall give directions that you may remain behind when theothersgo,sothatyoumaycopyitatyourleisure without fear of being overlooked. When you have finished,relockboththeoriginalandthedraftinthe desk,andhandthemovertomepersonallyto-morrow morning.’ “Itookthepapersand—” “Excusemeaninstant,”saidHolmes. “Wereyou aloneduringthisconversation?” “Absolutely.” “Inalargeroom?” “Thirtyfeeteachway.” “Inthecentre?” “Yes,aboutit.” “Andspeakinglow?” “My uncle’s voice is always remarkably low. I hardlyspokeatall.” “Thank you,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes; “praygoon.” “Ididexactlywhatheindicated,andwaiteduntil the other clerks had departed. One of them in my room, Charles Gorot, had some arrears of work to make up, so I left him there and went out to dine.</s>WhenIreturnedhewasgone. Iwasanxioustohurry my work, for I knew that Joseph—the Mr. Harrison whom you saw just now—was in town, and that he would travel down to Woking by the eleven-o’clock train,andIwantedifpossibletocatchit.</s>“WhenIcametoexaminethetreatyIsawatonce that it was of such importance that my uncle had been guilty of no exaggeration in what he had said.</s>Withoutgoingintodetails,Imaysaythatitdefined the position of Great Britain towards the Triple Al- liance,andfore-shadowedthepolicywhichthiscoun- try would pursue in the event of the French fleet gaining a complete ascendancy over that of Italy in theMediterranean. Thequestions treatedinit were purely naval. At the end were the signatures of the highdignitarieswhohadsignedit. Iglancedmyeyes overit,andthensettleddowntomytaskofcopying.</s>“It was a long document, written in the French language,andcontainingtwenty-sixseparatearticles.</s>I copied as quickly as I could, but at nine o’clock I hadonlydoneninearticles,anditseemedhopeless for me to attempt to catch my train. I was feeling drowsyandstupid,partlyfrommydinnerandalso fromtheeffectsofalongday’swork. Acupofcoffee wouldclearmybrain. Acommissionaireremainsall nightinalittlelodgeatthefootofthestairs,andisin thehabitofmakingcoffeeathisspirit-lampforany oftheofficialswhomaybeworkingovertime. Irang thebell,therefore,tosummonhim.</s>“Tomysurprise,itwasawomanwhoanswered the summons, a large, coarse-faced, elderly woman, inanapron. Sheexplainedthatshewasthecommis- sionaire’s wife, whodid thecharing, and Igaveher theorderforthecoffee.</s>“Iwrotetwomorearticlesandthen,feelingmore drowsy than ever, I rose and walked up and down the room to stretch my legs. My coffee had not yet come,andIwonderedwhatwasthecauseofthede- lay could be. Opening the door, I started down the corridor to find out. There was a straight passage, dimly lighted, which led from the room in which I had been working, and was the only exit from it. It ended in a curving staircase, with the commission- aire’s lodge in the passage at the bottom. Half way down this staircase is a small landing, with another passage running into it at right angles. This second oneleadsbymeansofasecondsmallstairtoaside door, used by servants, and also as a short cut by clerks when coming from Charles Street. Here is a roughchartoftheplace.”“Thankyou. IthinkthatIquitefollowyou,”said SherlockHolmes.</s>“It is of the utmost importance that you should noticethispoint. Iwentdownthestairsandintothe hall, where I found the commissionaire fast asleep inhisbox,withthekettleboilingfuriouslyuponthe spirit-lamp. I took off the kettle and blew out the lamp,forthewaterwasspurtingoverthefloor. Then Iputoutmyhandandwasabouttoshaketheman, whowasstillsleepingsoundly,whenabelloverhis headrangloudly,andhewokewithastart.</s>“‘Mr.Phelps,sir!’ saidhe,lookingatmeinbewil- derment.</s>“‘Icamedowntoseeifmycoffeewasready.’ “‘I was boiling the kettle when I fell asleep, sir.’ Helookedatmeandthenupatthestillquiveringbell withanever-growingastonishmentuponhisface.</s>“‘Ifyouwashere,sir,thenwhorangthebell?’ he asked.</s>“‘Thebell!’ Icried. ‘Whatbellisit?’ “‘It’sthebelloftheroomyouwereworkingin.’ “A cold hand seemed to close round my heart.</s>Someone,then,wasinthatroomwheremyprecious treatylayuponthetable. Iranfranticallyupthestair andalongthepassage. Therewasnooneinthecorri- dors,Mr.Holmes. Therewasnooneintheroom. All wasexactlyasIleftit,saveonlythatthepaperswhich hadbeencommittedtomycarehadbeentakenfrom thedeskonwhichtheylay. Thecopywasthere,and theoriginalwasgone.” Holmessatupinhischairandrubbedhishands.</s>Icouldseethattheproblemwasentirelytohisheart.</s>“Pray,whatdidyoudothen?”hemurmured.</s>“Irecognizedinaninstantthatthethiefmusthave come up the stairs from the side door. Of course I musthavemethimifhehadcometheotherway.” “You were satisfied that he could not have been concealedintheroomallthetime,orinthecorridor whichyouhavejustdescribedasdimlylighted?” “Itisabsolutelyimpossible. Aratcouldnotcon- cealhimselfeitherintheroomorthecorridor. There isnocoveratall.” “Thankyou. Prayproceed.” “Thecommissionaire,seeingbymypalefacethat somethingwastobefeared,hadfollowedmeupstairs.</s>Now we both rushed along the corridor and down thesteepstepswhichledtoCharlesStreet. Thedoor at the bottom was closed, but unlocked. We flung it open and rushed out. I can distinctly remember that as we did so there came three chimes from a neighboringclock. Itwasquartertoten.” “Thatisofenormousimportance,”saidHolmes, makinganoteuponhisshirt-cuff.</s>“Thenightwasverydark,andathin,warmrain wasfalling. TherewasnooneinCharlesStreet,buta greattrafficwasgoingon, asusual, inWhitehall, at the extremity. We rushed along the pavement, bare- headedaswewere,andatthefarcornerwefounda policemanstanding.</s>“‘A robbery has been committed,’ I gasped. ‘A documentofimmensevaluehasbeenstolenfromthe ForeignOffice. Hasanyonepassedthisway?’ “‘I have been standing here for a quarter of an hour,sir,’saidhe;‘onlyonepersonhaspassedduring thattime—awoman,tallandelderly,withaPaisley shawl.’ “‘Ah,thatisonlymywife,’criedthecommission- aire;‘hasnooneelsepassed?’ “‘Noone.’ “‘Then it must be the other way that the thief took,’criedthefellow,tuggingatmysleeve.</s>“But I was not satisfied, and the attempts which hemadetodrawmeawayincreasedmysuspicions.</s>“‘Whichwaydidthewomango?’ Icried.</s>“‘I don’t know, sir. I noticed her pass, but I had nospecialreasonforwatchingher. Sheseemedtobe inahurry.’ “‘Howlongagowasit?’ “‘Oh,notverymanyminutes.’ “‘Withinthelastfive?’ “‘Well,itcouldnotbemorethanfive.’ “‘You’re only wasting your time, sir, and every minutenowisofimportance,’criedthecommission- aire; ‘take my word for it that my old woman has nothing to do with it, and come down to the other endofthestreet. Well,ifyouwon’t,Iwill.’ Andwith thatherushedoffintheotherdirection.</s>“ButIwasafterhiminaninstantandcaughthim bythesleeve.</s>“‘Wheredoyoulive?’ saidI.</s>“‘16 Ivy Lane, Brixton,’ he answered. ‘But don’t let yourself be drawn away upon a false scent, Mr.</s>Phelps. Cometotheotherendofthestreetandletus seeifwecanhearofanything.’ “Nothing was to be lost by following his advice.</s>Withthepolicemanwebothhurrieddown,butonly tofindthestreetfulloftraffic,manypeoplecoming andgoing,butallonlytooeagertogettoaplaceofsafety upon so wet a night. There was no lounger whocouldtelluswhohadpassed.</s>“Thenwereturnedtotheoffice,andsearchedthe stairs and the passage without result. The corridor which led to the room was laid down with a kind ofcreamylinoleumwhichshowsanimpressionvery easily. We examined it very carefully, but found no outlineofanyfootmark.” “Haditbeenrainingallevening?” “Sinceaboutseven.” “Howisit,then,thatthewomanwhocameinto the room about nine left no traces with her muddy boots?” “I am glad you raised the point. It occurred to me at the time. The charwomen are in the habit of taking off their boots at the commissionaire’s office, andputtingonlistslippers.” “That is very clear. There were no marks, then, thoughthenightwasawetone? Thechainofevents is certainly one of extraordinary interest. What did youdonext?” “Weexaminedtheroomalso. Thereisnopossibil- ityofasecretdoor,andthewindowsarequitethirty feet from the ground. Both of them were fastened ontheinside. Thecarpetpreventsanypossibilityof atrap-door,andtheceilingisoftheordinarywhite- washedkind. Iwillpledgemylifethatwhoeverstole mypaperscouldonlyhavecomethroughthedoor.” “Howaboutthefireplace?” “They use none. There is a stove. The bell-rope hangsfromthewirejusttotherightofmydesk. Who- ever rang it must have come right up to the desk to doit. Butwhyshouldanycriminalwishtoringthe bell? Itisamostinsolublemystery.” “Certainlytheincidentwasunusual. Whatwere yournextsteps? Youexaminedtheroom,Ipresume, to see if the intruder had left any traces—any cigar- endordroppedgloveorhairpinorothertrifle?” “Therewasnothingofthesort.” “Nosmell?” “Well,weneverthoughtofthat.” “Ah,ascentoftobaccowouldhavebeenwortha greatdealtousinsuchaninvestigation.” “I never smoke myself, so I think I should have observed it if there had been any smell of tobacco.</s>There was absolutely no clue of any kind. The only tangiblefactwasthatthecommissionaire’swife—Mrs.</s>Tangeywasthename—hadhurriedoutoftheplace.</s>Hecouldgivenoexplanationsavethatitwasabout the time when the woman always went home. The policemanandIagreedthatourbestplanwouldbe to seize the woman before she could get rid of the papers,presumingthatshehadthem.</s>“The alarm had reached Scotland Yard by this time, and Mr. Forbes, the detective, came round at onceandtookupthecasewithagreatdealofenergy.</s>Wehiredahansom,andinhalfanhourwewereatthe addresswhichhadbeengiventous. Ayoungwoman opened the door, who proved to be Mrs. Tangey’s eldestdaughter. Hermotherhadnotcomebackyet, andwewereshownintothefrontroomtowait.</s>“Abouttenminuteslateraknockcameatthedoor, andherewemadetheoneseriousmistakeforwhich I blame myself. Instead of opening the door our- selves,weallowedthegirltodoso. Weheardhersay, ‘Mother,therearetwomeninthehousewaitingtosee you,’andaninstantafterwardsweheardthepatterof feetrushingdownthepassage. Forbesflungopenthe door,andwebothranintothebackroomorkitchen, butthewomanhadgottherebeforeus. Shestaredat uswithdefianteyes,andthen,suddenlyrecognizing me,anexpressionofabsoluteastonishmentcameover herface.</s>“‘Why, if it isn’t Mr. Phelps, of the office!’ she cried.</s>“‘Come,come,whodidyouthinkwewerewhen youranawayfromus?’ askedmycompanion.</s>“‘I thought you were the brokers,’ said she, ‘we havehadsometroublewithatradesman.’ “‘That’snotquitegoodenough,’answeredForbes.</s>‘Wehavereasontobelievethatyouhavetakenapaper ofimportancefromtheForeignOffice,andthatyou raninheretodisposeofit. Youmustcomebackwith ustoScotlandYardtobesearched.’ “It was in vain that she protested and resisted.</s>Afour-wheelerwasbrought,andweallthreedrove back in it. We had first made an examination of thekitchen,andespeciallyofthekitchenfire,tosee whethershemighthavemadeawaywiththepapers during the instant that she was alone. There were nosigns,however,ofanyashesorscraps. Whenwe reachedScotlandYardshewashandedoveratonceto thefemalesearcher. Iwaitedinanagonyofsuspense until she came back with her report. There were no signsofthepapers.</s>“Thenforthefirsttimethehorrorofmysituation cameinitsfullforce. HithertoIhadbeenacting,and actionhadnumbedthought. Ihadbeensoconfident ofregainingthetreatyatoncethatIhadnotdaredto thinkofwhatwouldbetheconsequenceifIfailedto do so. But now there was nothing more to be done,andIhadleisuretorealizemyposition. Itwashorri- ble. WatsontherewouldtellyouthatIwasanervous, sensitiveboyatschool. Itismynature. Ithoughtof myuncleandofhiscolleaguesintheCabinet,ofthe shamewhichIhadbroughtuponhim,uponmyself, upon every one connected with me. What though I was the victim of an extraordinary accident? No allowance is made for accidents where diplomatic interestsareatstake. Iwasruined,shamefully,hope- lesslyruined. Idon’tknowwhatIdid. IfancyImust have made a scene. I have a dim recollection of a group of officials who crowded round me, endeav- oring to soothe me. One of them drove down with metoWaterloo,andsawmeintotheWokingtrain. I believethathewouldhavecomeallthewayhaditnot been that Dr. Ferrier, who lives near me, was going downbythatverytrain. Thedoctormostkindlytook charge of me, and it was well he did so, for I had a fitinthestation,andbeforewereachedhomeIwas practicallyaravingmaniac.</s>“You can imagine the state of things here when theywererousedfromtheirbedsbythedoctor’sring- ingandfoundmeinthiscondition. PoorAnniehere andmymotherwerebroken-hearted. Dr.Ferrierhad justheardenoughfromthedetectiveatthestationto be able to give an idea of what had happened, and hisstorydidnotmendmatters. Itwasevidenttoall thatIwasinforalongillness,soJosephwasbundled out of this cheery bedroom, and it was turned into a sick-room for me. Here I have lain, Mr. Holmes, for over nine weeks, unconscious, and raving with brain-fever. IfithadnotbeenforMissHarrisonhere and for the doctor’s care I should not be speaking to you now. She has nursed me by day and a hired nurse has looked after me by night, for in my mad fitsIwascapableofanything. Slowlymyreasonhas cleared,butitisonlyduringthelastthreedaysthat my memory has quite returned. Sometimes I wish thatitneverhad. ThefirstthingthatIdidwastowire to Mr. Forbes, who had the case in hand. He came out,andassuresmethat,thougheverythinghasbeen done, no trace of a clue has been discovered. The commissionaireandhiswifehavebeenexaminedin everywaywithoutanylightbeingthrownuponthe matter. Thesuspicionsofthepolicethenrestedupon youngGorot,who,asyoumayremember,stayedover time in the office that night. His remaining behind andhisFrenchnamewerereallytheonlytwopoints which could suggest suspicion; but, as a matter of fact,Ididnotbeginworkuntilhehadgone,andhis peopleareofHuguenotextraction,butasEnglishin sympathy and tradition as you and I are. Nothing wasfoundtoimplicatehiminanyway,andtherethe matterdropped. Iturntoyou,Mr.Holmes,asabso- lutelymylasthope. Ifyoufailme,thenmyhonoras wellasmypositionareforeverforfeited.” The invalid sank back upon his cushions, tired outbythislongrecital, whilehisnursepouredhim out a glass of some stimulating medicine. Holmes sat silently, with his head thrown back and his eyes closed, in an attitude which might seem listless to a stranger, but which I knew betokened the most intenseself-absorption.</s>“You statement has been so explicit,” said he at last,“thatyouhavereallyleftmeveryfewquestions to ask. There is one of the very utmost importance, however. Didyoutellanyonethatyouhadthisspe- cialtasktoperform?” “Noone.” “NotMissHarrisonhere,forexample?” “No. I had not been back to Woking between gettingtheorderandexecutingthecommission.” “Andnoneofyourpeoplehadbychancebeento seeyou?” “None.” “Did any of them know their way about in the office?” “Oh,yes,allofthemhadbeenshownoverit.” “Still, of course, if you said nothing to any one aboutthetreatytheseinquiriesareirrelevant.” “Isaidnothing.” “Doyouknowanythingofthecommissionaire?” “Nothingexceptthatheisanoldsoldier.” “Whatregiment?” “Oh,Ihaveheard—ColdstreamGuards.” “Thankyou. IhavenodoubtIcangetdetailsfrom Forbes. Theauthoritiesareexcellentatamassingfacts, though they do not always use them to advantage.</s>Whatalovelythingaroseis!” He walked past the couch to the open window, andheldupthedroopingstalkofamoss-rose,look- ing down at the dainty blend of crimson and green.</s>It was a new phase of his character to me, for I had neverbeforeseenhimshowanykeeninterestinnatu- ralobjects.</s>“There is nothing in which deduction is so nec- essaryasinreligion,”saidhe,leaningwithhisback against the shutters. “It can be built up as an exact sciencebythereasoner. Ourhighestassuranceofthe goodness of Providence seems to me to rest in the flowers. Allotherthings,ourpowersourdesires,our food,areallreallynecessaryforourexistenceinthefirstinstance. Butthisroseisanextra. Itssmellandits colorareanembellishmentoflife,notaconditionof it. Itisonlygoodnesswhichgivesextras,andsoIsay againthatwehavemuchtohopefromtheflowers.” PercyPhelpsandhisnurselookedatHolmesdur- ingthisdemonstrationwithsurpriseandagooddeal ofdisappointmentwrittenupontheirfaces. Hehad fallenintoareverie,withthemoss-rosebetweenhis fingers. Ithadlastedsomeminutesbeforetheyoung ladybrokeinuponit.</s>“Doyouseeanyprospectofsolvingthismystery, Mr.Holmes?”sheasked,withatouchofasperityin hervoice.</s>“Oh, the mystery!” he answered, coming back with a start to the realities of life. “Well, it would be absurd to deny that the case is a very abstruse and complicated one, but I can promise you that I willlookintothematterandletyouknowanypoints whichmaystrikeme.” “Doyouseeanyclue?” “Youhavefurnishedmewithseven,but,ofcourse, I must test them before I can pronounce upon their value.” “Yoususpectsomeone?” “Isuspectmyself.” “What!” “Ofcomingtoconclusionstoorapidly.” “ThengotoLondonandtestyourconclusions.” “Your advice is very excellent, Miss Harrison,” saidHolmes,rising. “Ithink,Watson,wecannotdo better. Donotallowyourselftoindulgeinfalsehopes, Mr.Phelps. Theaffairisaverytangledone.” “IshallbeinafeveruntilIseeyouagain,”cried thediplomatist.</s>“Well,I’llcomeoutbythesametrainto-morrow, thoughit’smorethanlikelythatmyreportwillbea negativeone.” “Godblessyouforpromisingtocome,”criedour client. “Itgivesmefreshlifetoknowthatsomething is being done. By the way, I have had a letter from LordHoldhurst.” “Ha! Whatdidhesay?” “He was cold, but not harsh. I dare say my severe illness prevented him from being that. He repeated that the matter was of the utmost impor- tance,andaddedthatnostepswouldbetakenabout my future—by which he means, of course, my dis- missal—until my health was restored and I had an opportunityofrepairingmymisfortune.” “Well,thatwasreasonableandconsiderate,”said Holmes. “Come, Watson, for we have a good day’s workbeforeusintown.” Mr.JosephHarrisondroveusdowntothestation, andweweresoonwhirlingupinaPortsmouthtrain.</s>Holmes was sunk in profound thought, and hardly openedhismouthuntilwehadpassedClaphamJunc- tion.</s>“It’saverycheerythingtocomeintoLondonby anyoftheselineswhichrunhigh,andallowyouto lookdownuponthehouseslikethis.” Ithoughthewasjoking,fortheviewwassordid enough,buthesoonexplainedhimself.</s>“Look at those big, isolated clumps of building risingupabovetheslates,likebrickislandsinalead- coloredsea.” “Theboard-schools.” “Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsuleswithhundredsofbrightlittleseedsineach, out of which will spring the wise, better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelps does not drink?” “Ishouldnotthinkso.” “Nor should I, but we are bound to take every possibilityintoaccount. Thepoordevilhascertainly gothimselfintoverydeepwater,andit’saquestion whetherweshalleverbeabletogethimashore. What didyouthinkofMissHarrison?” “Agirlofstrongcharacter.” “Yes, but she is a good sort, or I am mistaken.</s>Sheandherbrotheraretheonlychildrenofaniron- mastersomewhereupNorthumberlandway. Hegot engaged to her when traveling last winter, and she camedowntobeintroducedtohispeople,withher brother as escort. Then came the smash, and she stayed on to nurse her lover, while brother Joseph, findinghimselfprettysnug,stayedontoo. I’vebeen making a few independent inquiries, you see. But to-daymustbeadayofinquiries.” “Mypractice—”Ibegan.</s>“Oh,ifyoufindyourowncasesmoreinteresting thanmine—”saidHolmes,withsomeasperity.</s>“I was going to say that my practice could get alongverywellforadayortwo,sinceitistheslack- esttimeintheyear.” “Excellent,” said he, recovering his good-humor.</s>“Thenwe’lllookintothismattertogether. Ithinkthat weshouldbeginbyseeingForbes. Hecanprobably tell us all the details we want until we know from whatsidethecaseistobeapproached.”“Yousaidyouhadaclue?” “Well,wehaveseveral,butwecanonlytesttheir valuebyfurtherinquiry. Themostdifficultcrimeto trackistheonewhichispurposeless. Nowthisisnot purposeless. Who is it who profits by it? There is theFrenchambassador,thereistheRussian,thereis who-evermightsellittoeitherofthese,andthereis LordHoldhurst.” “LordHoldhurst!” “Well,itisjustconceivablethatastatesmanmight findhimselfinapositionwherehewasnotsorryto havesuchadocumentaccidentallydestroyed.” “Not a statesman with the honorable record of LordHoldhurst?” “It is a possibility and we cannot afford to disre- gardit. Weshallseethenoblelordto-dayandfindout ifhecantellusanything. MeanwhileIhavealready setinquiriesonfoot.” “Already?” “Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to every evening paper in London. This advertisement will appearineachofthem.” Hehandedoverasheettornfromanote-book. On itwasscribbledinpencil: “£10 reward. The number of the cab whichdroppedafareatoraboutthedoor of the Foreign Office in Charles Street at quartertotenintheeveningofMay23d.</s>Apply221b,BakerStreet.” “Youareconfidentthatthethiefcameinacab?” “Ifnot,thereisnoharmdone. ButifMr.Phelpsis correctinstatingthatthereisnohiding-placeeither in the room or the corridors, then the person must havecomefromoutside. Ifhecamefromoutsideon sowetanight,andyetleftnotraceofdampuponthe linoleum,whichwasexaminedwithinafewminutes of his passing, then it is exceeding probably that he cameinacab. Yes,Ithinkthatwemaysafelydeduce acab.” “Itsoundsplausible.” “ThatisoneofthecluesofwhichIspoke. Itmay leadustosomething. Andthen,ofcourse,thereisthe bell—whichisthemostdistinctivefeatureofthecase.</s>Why should the bell ring? Was it the thief who did itoutofbravado? Orwasitsomeonewhowaswith thethiefwhodiditinordertopreventthecrime? Or wasitanaccident? Orwasit—?”Hesankbackinto thestateofintenseandsilentthoughtfromwhichhe had emerged; but it seemed to me, accustomed as I wastohiseverymood,thatsomenewpossibilityhad dawnedsuddenlyuponhim.</s>It was twenty past three when we reached our terminus, and after a hasty luncheon at the buffet wepushedonatoncetoScotlandYard. Holmeshad alreadywiredtoForbes,andwefoundhimwaiting to receive us—a small, foxy man with a sharp but bynomeansamiableexpression. Hewasdecidedly frigidinhismannertous,especiallywhenheheard theerranduponwhichwehadcome.</s>“I’ve heard of your methods before now, Mr.</s>Holmes,” said he, tartly. “You are ready enough to usealltheinformationthatthepolicecanlayatyour disposal,andthenyoutrytofinishthecaseyourself andbringdiscreditonthem.” “On the contrary,” said Holmes, “out of my last fifty-threecasesmynamehasonlyappearedinfour, and the police have had all the credit in forty-nine.</s>I don’t blame you for not knowing this, for you are young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on in your new duties you will work with me and not againstme.” “I’d be very glad of a hint or two,” said the de- tective,changinghismanner. “I’vecertainlyhadno creditfromthecasesofar.” “Whatstepshaveyoutaken?” “Tangey,thecommissionaire,hasbeenshadowed.</s>HelefttheGuardswithagoodcharacterandwecan findnothingagainsthim. Hiswifeisabadlot,though.</s>Ifancysheknowsmoreaboutthisthanappears.” “Haveyoushadowedher?” “We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs.</s>Tangey drinks, and our woman has been with her twicewhenshewaswellon,butshecouldgetnoth- ingoutofher.” “I understand that they have had brokers in the house?” “Yes,buttheywerepaidoff.” “Wheredidthemoneycomefrom?” “That was all right. His pension was due. They havenotshownanysignofbeinginfunds.” “What explanation did she give of having an- sweredthebellwhenMr.Phelpsrangforthecoffee?” “Shesaidthathehusbandwasverytiredandshe wishedtorelievehim.” “Well, certainly that would agree with his being foundalittlelaterasleepinhischair. Thereisnothing against them then but the woman’s character. Did you ask her why she hurried away that night? Her hasteattractedtheattentionofthepoliceconstable.”“She was later than usual and wanted to get home.” “DidyoupointouttoherthatyouandMr.Phelps, whostartedatleasttwentyminutesafterhe,gothome beforeher?” “Sheexplainsthatbythedifferencebetweena’bus andahansom.” “Didshemakeitclearwhy,onreachingherhouse, sheranintothebackkitchen?” “Becauseshehadthemoneytherewithwhichto payoffthebrokers.” “She has at least an answer for everything. Did you ask her whether in leaving she met any one or sawanyoneloiteringaboutCharlesStreet?” “Shesawnoonebuttheconstable.” “Well,youseemtohavecross-examinedherpretty thoroughly. Whatelsehaveyoudone?” “The clerk Gorot has been shadowed all these nineweeks,butwithoutresult. Wecanshownothing againsthim.” “Anythingelse?” “Well, we have nothing else to go upon—no evi- denceofanykind.” “Have you formed a theory about how that bell rang?” “Well, I must confess that it beats me. It was a coolhand,whoeveritwas,togoandgivethealarm likethat.” “Yes,itwasaqueerthingtodo. Manythanksto youforwhatyouhavetoldme. IfIcanputtheman intoyourhandsyoushallhearfromme. Comealong, Watson.” “Wherearewegoingtonow?”Iasked,asweleft theoffice.</s>“WearenowgoingtointerviewLordHoldhurst, thecabinetministerandfuturepremierofEngland.” WewerefortunateinfindingthatLordHoldhurst wasstill inhis chambersin Downing Street, and on Holmessendinginhiscardwewereinstantlyshown up. Thestatesmanreceiveduswiththatold-fashioned courtesy for which he is remarkable, and seated us onthetwoluxuriantloungesoneithersideofthefire- place. Standingontherugbetweenus,withhisslight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and curlinghairprematurelytingedwithgray,heseemed to represent thatnot too common type, a nobleman whoisintruthnoble.</s>“Yournameisveryfamiliartome,Mr.Holmes,” saidhe,smiling. “And,ofcourse,Icannotpretendto beignorantoftheobjectofyourvisit. Therehasonly beenoneoccurrenceintheseofficeswhichcouldcall for your attention. In whose interest are you acting, mayIask?” “InthatofMr.PercyPhelps,”answeredHolmes.</s>“Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can under- standthatourkinshipmakesitthemoreimpossible for me to screen him in any way. I fear that the in- cident must have a very prejudicial effect upon his career.” “Butifthedocumentisfound?” “Ah,that,ofcourse,wouldbedifferent.” “IhadoneortwoquestionswhichIwishedtoask you,LordHoldhurst.” “Ishallbehappytogiveyouanyinformationin mypower.” “Was it in this room that you gave your instruc- tionsastothecopyingofthedocument?” “Itwas.” “Thenyoucouldhardlyhavebeenoverheard?” “Itisoutofthequestion.” “Didyouevermentiontoanyonethatitwasyour intentiontogiveanyonethetreatytobecopied?” “Never.” “Youarecertainofthat?” “Absolutely.” “Well, since you never said so, and Mr. Phelps never said so, and nobody else knew anything of thematter,thenthethief’spresenceintheroomwas purelyaccidental. Hesawhischanceandhetookit.” The statesman smiled. “You take me out of my provincethere,”saidhe.</s>Holmes considered for a moment. “There is an- other very important point which I wish to discuss withyou,”saidhe. “Youfeared,asIunderstand,that very grave results might follow from the details of thistreatybecomingknown.” Ashadowpassedovertheexpressivefaceofthe statesman. “Verygraveresultsindeed.” “Andhavetheyoccurred?” “Notyet.” “Ifthetreatyhadreached,letussay,theFrenchor RussianForeignOffice,youwouldexpecttohearof it?” “Ishould,”saidLordHoldhurst,withawryface.</s>“Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and nothing has been heard, it is not unfair to suppose thatforsomereasonthetreatyhasnotreachedthem.”LordHoldhurstshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thieftookthetreatyinordertoframeitandhangit up.” “Perhapsheiswaitingforabetterprice.” “Ifhewaitsalittlelongerhewillgetnopriceatall.</s>Thetreatywillceasetobesecretinafewmonths.” “That is most important,” said Holmes. “Of course,itisapossiblesuppositionthatthethiefhas hadasuddenillness—” “Anattackofbrain-fever,forexample?”askedthe statesman,flashingaswiftglanceathim.</s>“I did not say so,” said Holmes, imperturbably.</s>“Andnow,LordHoldhurst,wehavealreadytakenup too much of your valuable time, and we shall wish yougood-day.” “Everysuccesstoyourinvestigation,bethecrimi- nalwhoitmay,”answeredthenobleman,ashebowed usoutthedoor.</s>“He’safinefellow,”saidHolmes,aswecameout intoWhitehall. “Buthehasastruggletokeepuphis position. Heisfarfromrichandhasmanycalls. You noticed,ofcourse,thathisbootshadbeenre-soled? Now,Watson,Iwon’tdetainyoufromyourlegitimate workanylonger. Ishalldonothingmoreto-day,un- less I have an answer to my cab advertisement. But I should be extremely obliged to you if you would come down with me to Woking to-morrow, by the sametrainwhichwetookyesterday.” Imethimaccordinglynextmorningandwetrav- eleddowntoWokingtogether. Hehadhadnoanswer tohisadvertisement,hesaid,andnofreshlighthad been thrown upon the case. He had, when he so willedit,theutterimmobilityofcountenanceofared Indian, and I could not gather from his appearance whetherhewassatisfiedornotwiththepositionof thecase. Hisconversation,Iremember,wasaboutthe Bertillonsystemofmeasurements,andheexpressed hisenthusiasticadmirationoftheFrenchsavant.</s>We found our client still under the charge of his devotednurse,butlookingconsiderablybetterthan before. Herosefromthesofaandgreeteduswithout difficultywhenweentered.</s>“Anynews?”heasked,eagerly.</s>“Myreport,asIexpected,isanegativeone,”said Holmes. “I have seen Forbes, and I have seen your uncle,andIhavesetoneortwotrainsofinquiryupon footwhichmayleadtosomething.” “Youhavenotlostheart,then?” “Bynomeans.” “God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Har- rison. “Ifwekeepourcourageandourpatiencethe truthmustcomeout.” “Wehavemoretotellyouthanyouhaveforus,” saidPhelps,reseatinghimselfuponthecouch.</s>“Ihopedyoumighthavesomething.” “Yes,wehavehadanadventureduringthenight, and one which might have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew very grave as he spoke, andalookofsomethingakintofearsprangupinhis eyes. “Doyouknow,”saidhe,“thatIbegintobelieve thatIamtheunconsciouscentreofsomemonstrous conspiracy,andthatmylifeisaimedataswellasmy honor?” “Ah!”criedHolmes.</s>“It sounds incredible, for I have not, as far as I know, an enemy in the world. Yet from last night’s experienceIcancometonootherconclusion.” “Prayletmehearit.” “Youmustknowthatlastnightwastheveryfirst night that I have ever slept without a nurse in the room. I was so much better that I thought I could dispensewithone. Ihadanight-lightburning,how- ever. Well,abouttwointhemorningIhadsunkinto alightsleepwhenIwassuddenlyarousedbyaslight noise. It was like the sound which a mouse makes when it is gnawing a plank, and I lay listening to it forsometimeundertheimpressionthatitmustcome fromthatcause. Thenitgrewlouder,andsuddenly therecamefromthewindowasharpmetallicsnick. I satupinamazement. Therecouldbenodoubtwhat thesoundswerenow. Thefirstoneshadbeencaused by some one forcing an instrument through the slit betweenthesashes,andthesecondbythecatchbeing pressedback.</s>“Therewasapausethenforabouttenminutes,as if the person were waiting to see whether the noise hadawakenedme. ThenIheardagentlecreakingas thewindowwasveryslowlyopened. Icouldstandit nolonger,formynervesarenotwhattheyusedtobe.</s>I sprang out of bed and flung open the shutters. A manwascrouchingatthewindow. Icouldseelittle ofhim,forhewasgonelikeaflash. Hewaswrapped in some sort of cloak which came across the lower partofhisface. OnethingonlyIamsureof,andthat isthathehadsomeweaponinhishand. Itlookedto melikealongknife. Idistinctlysawthegleamofit asheturnedtorun.” “This is most interesting,” said Holmes. “Pray whatdidyoudothen?”“I should have followed him through the open windowifIhadbeenstronger. Asitwas,Irangthe bellandrousedthehouse. Ittookmesomelittletime, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleepupstairs. Ishouted,however,andthatbrought Josephdown,andherousedtheothers. Josephand thegroomfoundmarksonthebedoutsidethewin- dow,buttheweatherhasbeensodrylatelythatthey foundithopelesstofollowthetrailacrossthegrass.</s>There’saplace,however,onthewoodenfencewhich skirtstheroadwhichshowssigns,theytellme,asif someonehadgotover,andhadsnappedthetopof the rail in doing so. I have said nothing to the local policeyet,forIthoughtIhadbesthaveyouropinion first.” This tale of our client’s appeared to have an ex- traordinary effect upon Sherlock Holmes. He rose from his chair and paced about the room in uncon- trollableexcitement.</s>“Misfortunes never come single,” said Phelps, smiling, though it was evident that his adventure hadsomewhatshakenhim.</s>“Youhavecertainlyhadyourshare,”saidHolmes.</s>“Doyouthinkyoucouldwalkroundthehousewith me?” “Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph willcome,too.” “AndIalso,”saidMissHarrison.</s>“Iamafraidnot,”saidHolmes,shakinghishead.</s>“IthinkImustaskyoutoremainsittingexactlywhere youare.” The young lady resumed her seat with an air of displeasure. Her brother, however, had joined us and we set off all four together. We passed round the lawn to the outside of the young diplomatist’s window. There were, as he had said, marks upon thebed,buttheywerehopelesslyblurredandvague.</s>Holmes stopped over them for an instant, and then roseshrugginghisshoulders.</s>“Idon’tthinkanyonecouldmakemuchofthis,” saidhe. “Letusgoroundthehouseandseewhythis particular room was chose by the burglar. I should have thought those larger windows of the drawing- roomanddining-roomwouldhavehadmoreattrac- tionsforhim.” “Theyaremorevisiblefromtheroad,”suggested Mr.JosephHarrison.</s>“Ah,yes,ofcourse. Thereisadoorherewhichhe mighthaveattempted. Whatisitfor?” “Itisthesideentrancefortrades-people. Ofcourse itislockedatnight.” “Haveyoueverhadanalarmlikethisbefore?” “Never,”saidourclient.</s>“Do you keep plate in the house, or anything to attractburglars?” “Nothingofvalue.” Holmesstrolledroundthehousewithhishands inhispocketsandanegligentairwhichwasunusual withhim.</s>“By the way,” said he to Joseph Harrison, “you found some place, I understand, where the fellow scaledthefence. Letushavealookatthat!” The plump young man led us to a spot where thetopofoneofthewoodenrailshadbeencracked.</s>A small fragment of the wood was hanging down.</s>Holmespulleditoffandexamineditcritically.</s>“Doyouthinkthatwasdonelastnight? Itlooks ratherold,doesitnot?” “Well,possiblyso.” “There are no marks of any one jumping down upontheotherside. No,Ifancyweshallgetnohelp here. Let us go back to the bedroom and talk the matterover.” Percy Phelps was walking very slowly, leaning upon the arm of his future brother-in-law. Holmes walked swiftly across the lawn, and we were at the openwindowofthebedroomlongbeforetheothers cameup.</s>“MissHarrison,”saidHolmes,speakingwiththe utmost intensity of manner, “you must stay where youareallday. Letnothingpreventyoufromstaying whereyouareallday. Itisoftheutmostimportance.” “Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes,” said the girlinastonishment.</s>“Whenyougotobedlockthedoorofthisroom ontheoutsideandkeepthekey. Promisetodothis.” “ButPercy?” “HewillcometoLondonwithus.” “AndamItoremainhere?” “It is for his sake. You can serve him. Quick! Promise!” She gave a quick nod of assent just as the other twocameup.</s>“Whydoyousitmopingthere,Annie?”criedher brother. “Comeoutintothesunshine!” “No,thankyou,Joseph. Ihaveaslightheadache andthisroomisdeliciouslycoolandsoothing.” “Whatdoyouproposenow,Mr.Holmes?”asked ourclient.“Well,ininvestigatingthisminoraffairwemust notlosesightofourmaininquiry. Itwouldbeavery great help to me if you would come up to London withus.” “Atonce?” “Well,assoonasyouconvenientlycan. Sayinan hour.” “I feel quite strong enough, if I can really be of anyhelp.” “Thegreatestpossible.” “Perhaps you would like me to stay there to- night?” “Iwasjustgoingtoproposeit.” “Then, if my friend of the night comes to revisit me, he will find the bird flown. We are all in your hands,Mr.Holmes,andyoumusttellusexactlywhat youwouldlikedone. Perhapsyouwouldpreferthat Josephcamewithussoastolookafterme?” “Oh,no;myfriendWatsonisamedicalman,you know,andhe’lllookafteryou. We’llhaveourlunch here,ifyouwillpermitus,andthenweshallallthree setofffortowntogether.” It was arranged as he suggested, though Miss Harrisonexcusedherselffromleavingthebedroom, in accordance with Holmes’s suggestion. What the object of my friend’s manoeuvres was I could not conceive,unlessitweretokeeptheladyawayfrom Phelps,who,rejoicedbyhisreturninghealthandby theprospectofaction,lunchedwithusinthedining- room. Holmes had still more startling surprise for us,however,for,afteraccompanyingusdowntothe stationandseeingusintoourcarriage,hecalmlyan- nouncedthathehadnointentionofleavingWoking.</s>“ThereareoneortwosmallpointswhichIshould desiretoclearupbeforeIgo,”saidhe. “Yourabsence, Mr.Phelps,willinsomewaysratherassistme. Wat- son,whenyoureachLondonyouwouldobligemeby drivingatoncetoBakerStreetwithourfriendhere, and remaining with him until I see you again. It is fortunatethatyouareoldschool-fellows,asyoumust havemuchtotalkover. Mr.Phelpscanhavethespare bedroomto-night,andIwillbewithyouintimefor breakfast,forthereisatrainwhichwilltakemeinto Waterlooateight.” “But how about our investigation in London?” askedPhelps,ruefully.</s>“We can do that to-morrow. I think that just at presentIcanbeofmoreimmediateusehere.” “You might tell them at Briarbrae that I hope to bebackto-morrownight,”criedPhelps,aswebegan tomovefromtheplatform.</s>“I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae,” an- sweredHolmes,andwavedhishandtouscheerilyas weshotoutfromthestation.</s>Phelps and I talked it over on our journey, but neither of us could devise a satisfactory reason for thisnewdevelopment.</s>“I suppose he wants to find out some clue as to theburglarylastnight,ifaburglaritwas. Formyself, Idon’tbelieveitwasanordinarythief.” “Whatisyourownidea,then?” “Uponmyword,youmayputitdowntomyweak nervesornot,butIbelievethereissomedeeppoliti- cal intrigue going on around me, and that for some reasonthatpassesmyunderstandingmylifeisaimed atbytheconspirators. Itsoundshigh-flownandab- surd, but consider the facts! Why should a thief try tobreakinatabedroomwindow,wheretherecould benohopeofanyplunder,andwhyshouldhecome withalongknifeinhishand?” “You are sure it was not a house-breaker’s jimmy?” “Oh,no,itwasaknife. Isawtheflashoftheblade quitedistinctly.” “But why on earth should you be pursued with suchanimosity?” “Ah,thatisthequestion.” “Well,ifHolmestakesthesameview,thatwould accountforhisaction,woulditnot? Presumingthat yourtheoryiscorrect,ifhecanlayhishandsuponthe manwhothreatenedyoulastnighthewillhavegone alongwaytowardsfindingwhotookthenavaltreaty.</s>It is absurd to suppose that you have two enemies, oneofwhomrobsyou,whiletheotherthreatensyour life.” “ButHolmessaidthathewasnotgoingtoBriar- brae.” “Ihaveknownhimforsometime,”saidI,“butI neverknewhimdoanythingyetwithoutaverygood reason,”andwiththatourconversationdriftedoffon toothertopics.</s>But it was a weary day for me. Phelps was still weakafterhislongillness,andhismisfortunemade himquerulousandnervous. InvainIendeavoredto interesthiminAfghanistan,inIndia,insocialques- tions,inanythingwhichmighttakehismindoutof the groove. He would always come back to his lost treaty,wondering,guessing,speculating,astowhatHolmeswasdoing,whatstepsLordHoldhurstwas taking, what news we should have in the morning.</s>Astheeveningworeonhisexcitementbecamequite painful.</s>“YouhaveimplicitfaithinHolmes?”heasked.</s>“Ihaveseenhimdosomeremarkablethings.” “Butheneverbroughtlightintoanythingquiteso darkasthis?” “Oh,yes,Ihaveknownhimsolvequestionswhich presentedfewercluesthanyours.” “Butnotwheresuchlargeinterestsareatstake?” “Idon’tknowthat. Tomycertainknowledgehe hasactedonbehalfofthreeofthereigninghousesof Europeinveryvitalmatters.” “But you know him well, Watson. He is such an inscrutable fellow that I never quite know what to make of him. Do you think he is hopeful? Do you thinkheexpectstomakeasuccessofit?” “Hehassaidnothing.” “Thatisabadsign.” “On the contrary, I have noticed that when he is offthetrailhegenerallysaysso. Itiswhenheison a scent and is not quite absolutely sure yet that it is therightonethatheismosttaciturn. Now,mydear fellow, we can’t help matters by making ourselves nervous about them, so let me implore you to go to bed and so be fresh for whatever may await us to-morrow.” I was able at last to persuade my companion to takemyadvice,thoughIknewfromhisexcitedman- ner that there was not much hope of sleep for him.</s>Indeed,hismoodwasinfectious,forIlaytossinghalf thenightmyself,broodingoverthisstrangeproblem, andinventingahundredtheories,eachofwhichwas moreimpossiblethanthelast. WhyhadHolmesre- mainedatWoking? WhyhadheaskedMissHarrison toremaininthesick-roomallday? Whyhadhebeen socarefulnottoinformthepeopleatBriarbraethat he intended to remain near them? I cudgelled my brainsuntilIfellasleepintheendeavortofindsome explanationwhichwouldcoverallthesefacts.</s>It was seven o’clock when I awoke, and I set off at once for Phelps’s room, to find him haggard and spent after a sleepless night. His first question was whetherHolmeshadarrivedyet.</s>“He’ll be here when he promised,” said I, “and notaninstantsoonerorlater.” And my words were true, for shortly after eight ahansomdasheduptothedoorandourfriendgot outofit. Standinginthewindowwesawthathisleft handwasswathedinabandageandthathisfacewas verygrimandpale. Heenteredthehouse,butitwas somelittletimebeforehecameupstairs.</s>“Helookslikeabeatenman,”criedPhelps.</s>I was forced to confess that he was right. “After all,”saidI,“theclueofthematterliesprobablyhere intown.” Phelpsgaveagroan.</s>“Idon’tknowhowitis,”saidhe,“butIhadhoped forsomuchfromhisreturn. Butsurelyhishandwas nottieduplikethatyesterday. Whatcanbethemat- ter?” “Youarenotwounded,Holmes?”Iasked,asmy friendenteredtheroom.</s>“Tut,itisonlyascratchthroughmyownclumsi- ness,” he answered, nodding his good-mornings to us. “Thiscaseofyours,Mr.Phelps,iscertainlyoneof thedarkestwhichIhaveeverinvestigated.” “Ifearedthatyouwouldfinditbeyondyou.” “Ithasbeenamostremarkableexperience.” “Thatbandagetellsofadventures,”saidI.“Won’t youtelluswhathashappened?” “Afterbreakfast,mydearWatson. Rememberthat IhavebreathedthirtymilesofSurreyairthismorn- ing. Isupposethattherehasbeennoanswerfrommy cabmanadvertisement? Well,well,wecannotexpect toscoreeverytime.” The table was all laid, and just as I was about to ringMrs.Hudsonenteredwiththeteaandcoffee. A fewminuteslatershebroughtinthreecovers,andwe alldrewuptothetable,Holmesravenous,Icurious, andPhelpsinthegloomieststateofdepression.</s>“Mrs. Hudson has risen to the occasion,” said Holmes,uncoveringadishofcurriedchicken. “Her cuisineisalittlelimited,butshehasasgoodanidea ofbreakfastasaScotch-woman. Whathaveyouhere, Watson?” “Hamandeggs,”Ianswered.</s>“Good! What are you going to take, Mr.</s>Phelps—curriedfowloreggs,orwillyouhelpyour- self?” “Thankyou. Icaneatnothing,”saidPhelps.</s>“Oh,come! Trythedishbeforeyou.” “Thankyou,Iwouldreallyrathernot.” “Well, then,” said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle, “I suppose that you have no objection to helpingme?” Phelps raised the cover, and as he did so he ut- tered a scream, and sat there staring with a face aswhiteastheplateuponwhichhelooked. Acrossthe centre of it was lying a little cylinder of blue-gray paper. Hecaughtitup,devoureditwithhiseyes,and thendancedmadlyabouttheroom,passingittohis bosomandshriekingoutinhisdelight. Thenhefell back into an arm-chair so limp and exhausted with hisownemotionsthatwehadtopourbrandydown histhroattokeephimfromfainting.</s>“There! there!” said Holmes, soothing, patting him upon the shoulder. “It was too bad to spring it onyoulikethis,butWatsonherewilltellyouthatI nevercanresistatouchofthedramatic.” Phelpsseizedhishandandkissedit. “Godbless you!”hecried. “Youhavesavedmyhonor.” “Well, my own was at stake, you know,” said Holmes. “I assure you it is just as hateful to me to fail in a case as it can be to you to blunder over a commission.” Phelps thrust away the precious document into theinnermostpocketofhiscoat.</s>“I have not the heart to interrupt your breakfast anyfurther,andyetIamdyingtoknowhowyougot itandwhereitwas.” SherlockHolmesswallowedacupofcoffee,and turned his attention to the ham and eggs. Then he rose, lit his pipe, and settled himself down into his chair.</s>“I’ll tell you what I did first, and how I came to doitafterwards,”saidhe. “Afterleavingyouatthe stationIwentforacharmingwalkthroughsomead- mirableSurreyscenerytoaprettylittlevillagecalled Ripley, where I had my tea at an inn, and took the precautionoffillingmyflaskandofputtingapaper ofsandwichesinmypocket. ThereIremaineduntil evening,whenIsetoffforWokingagain,andfound myself in the high-road outside Briarbrae just after sunset.</s>“Well,Iwaiteduntiltheroadwasclear—itisnever averyfrequentedoneatanytime,Ifancy—andthen Iclamberedoverthefenceintothegrounds.” “Surelythegatewasopen!”ejaculatedPhelps.</s>“Yes, but I have a peculiar taste in these mat- ters. Ichosetheplacewherethethreefir-treesstand, and behind their screen I got over without the least chance of any one in the house being able to see me. Icroucheddownamongthebushesontheother side,andcrawledfromonetotheother—witnessthe disreputable state of my trouser knees—until I had reachedtheclumpofrhododendronsjustoppositeto your bedroom window. There I squatted down and awaiteddevelopments.</s>“The blind was not down in your room, and I couldseeMissHarrisonsittingtherereadingbythe table. It was quarter-past ten when she closed her book,fastenedtheshutters,andretired.</s>“Iheardhershutthedoor,andfeltquitesurethat shehadturnedthekeyinthelock.” “Thekey!”ejaculatedPhelps.</s>“Yes, I had given Miss Harrison instructions to lock the door on the outside and take the key with herwhenshewenttobed. Shecarriedouteveryone ofmyinjunctionstotheletter,andcertainlywithout hercooperationyouwouldnothavethatpaperinyou coat-pocket. She departed then and the lights went out, and I was left squatting in the rhododendron- bush.</s>“Thenightwasfine,butstillitwasaveryweary vigil. Of course it has the sort of excitement about it that the sportsman feels when he lies beside the water-courseandwaitsforthebiggame. Itwasvery long,though—almostaslong,Watson,aswhenyou and I waited in that deadly room when we looked into the little problem of the Speckled Band. There wasachurch-clockdownatWokingwhichstruckthe quarters, and I thought more than once that it had stopped. Atlasthoweverabouttwointhemorning, I suddenly heard the gentle sound of a bolt being pushed back and the creaking of a key. A moment latertheservant’sdoorwasopened,andMr.Joseph Harrisonsteppedoutintothemoonlight.” “Joseph!”ejaculatedPhelps.</s>“He was bare-headed, but he had a black coat thrownoverhisshouldersothathecouldconcealhis faceinaninstantiftherewereanyalarm. Hewalked on tiptoe under the shadow of the wall, and when he reached the window he worked a long-bladed knife through the sash and pushed back the catch.</s>Thenheflungopenthewindow,andputtinghisknife throughthecrackintheshutters,hethrustthebarup andswungthemopen.</s>“From where I lay I had a perfect view of the inside of the room and of every one of his move- ments. Helitthetwocandleswhichstooduponthe mantelpiece,andthenheproceededtoturnbackthe cornerofthecarpetintheneighborhoodofthedoor.</s>Presentlyhestoppedandpickedoutasquarepiece of board, such as is usually left to enable plumbers togetatthejointsofthegas-pipes. Thisonecovered, as a matter of fact, the T joint which gives off the pipewhichsuppliesthekitchenunderneath. Outofthishiding-placehedrewthatlittlecylinderofpaper, pusheddowntheboard,rearrangedthecarpet,blew outthecandles,andwalkedstraightintomyarmsas Istoodwaitingforhimoutsidethewindow.</s>“Well,hehasrathermoreviciousnessthanIgave himcreditfor,hasMasterJoseph. Heflewatmewith his knife, and I had to grasp him twice, and got a cutovertheknuckles,beforeIhadtheupperhandof him. Helookedmurderoutoftheonlyeyehecould see with when we had finished, but he listened to reasonandgaveupthepapers. HavinggotthemIlet mymango,butIwiredfullparticularstoForbesthis morning. Ifheisquickenoughtocatchhisbird,well andgood. Butif,asIshrewdlysuspect,hefindsthe nestemptybeforehegetsthere,why,allthebetterfor thegovernment. IfancythatLordHoldhurstforone, andMr.PercyPhelpsforanother,wouldverymuch ratherthattheaffairnevergotasfarasapolice-court.</s>“My God!” gasped our client. “Do you tell me thatduringtheselongtenweeksofagonythestolen papers were within the very room with me all the time?” “Soitwas.” “AndJoseph! Josephavillainandathief!” “Hum! I am afraid Joseph’s character is a rather deeperandmoredangerousonethanonemightjudge from his appearance. From what I have heard from him this morning, I gather that he has lost heavily in dabbling with stocks, and that he is ready to do anything on earth to better his fortunes. Being an absolutelyselfishman,whenachancepresenteditself hedidnotalloweitherhissister’shappinessoryour reputationtoholdhishand.” Percy Phelps sank back in his chair. “My head whirls,”saidhe. “Yourwordshavedazedme.” “Theprincipaldifficultyinyourcase,”remarked Holmes, in his didactic fashion, “lay in the fact of therebeingtoomuchevidence. Whatwasvitalwas overlaid and hidden by what was irrelevant. Of all thefactswhichwerepresentedtouswehadtopick justthosewhichwedeemedtobeessential,andthen piecethemtogetherintheirorder,soastoreconstruct this very remarkable chain of events. I had already beguntosuspectJoseph,fromthefactthatyouhad intendedtotravelhomewithhimthatnight,andthat thereforeitwasalikelyenoughthingthatheshould call for you, knowing the Foreign Office well, upon his way. When I heard that some one had been so anxious to get into the bedroom, in which no one butJosephcouldhaveconcealedanything—youtold usinyournarrativehowyouhadturnedJosephout whenyouarrivedwiththedoctor—mysuspicionsall changedtocertainties,especiallyastheattemptwas made on the first night upon which the nurse was absent,showingthattheintruderwaswellacquainted withthewaysofthehouse.” “HowblindIhavebeen!” “The facts of the case, as far as I have worked themout,arethese: thisJosephHarrisonenteredthe officethroughtheCharlesStreetdoor,andknowing hiswayhewalkedstraightintoyourroomtheinstant after you left it. Finding no one there he promptly rangthebell,andattheinstantthathedidsohiseyes caught the paper upon the table. A glance showed himthatchancehadputinhiswayaStatedocument ofimmensevalue,andinaninstanthehadthrustit intohispocketandwasgone. Afewminuteselapsed, asyouremember,beforethesleepycommissionaire drew your attention to the bell, and those were just enoughtogivethethieftimetomakehisescape.</s>“He made his way to Woking by the first train, andhavingexaminedhisbootyandassuredhimself thatitreallywasofimmensevalue,hehadconcealed it in what he thought was a very safe place, with the intention of taking it out again in a day or two, and carrying it to the French embassy, or wherever he thought that a long price was to be had. Then came your sudden return. He, without a moment’s warning,wasbundledoutofhisroom,andfromthat time onward there were always at least two of you theretopreventhimfromregaininghistreasure. The situation to him must have been a maddening one.</s>Butatlasthethoughthesawhischance. Hetriedto steal in, but was baffled by your wakefulness. You rememberthatyoudidnottakeyourusualdraught thatnight.” “Iremember.” “I fancy that he had taken steps to make that draught efficacious, and that he quite relied upon yourbeingunconscious. Ofcourse,Iunderstoodthat he would repeat the attempt whenever it could be donewithsafety. Yourleavingtheroomgavehimthe chancehewanted. IkeptMissHarrisoninitallday sothathemightnotanticipateus. Then,havinggiven himtheideathatthecoastwasclear,Ikeptguardas Ihavedescribed. Ialreadyknewthatthepaperswere probablyintheroom,butIhadnodesiretoripupall theplankingandskirtinginsearchofthem. Ilethim take them, therefore, from the hiding-place, and so savedmyselfaninfinityoftrouble. Isthereanyother pointwhichIcanmakeclear?” “Whydidhetrythewindowonthefirstoccasion,” Iasked,“whenhemighthaveenteredbythedoor?”“Inreachingthedoorhewouldhavetopassseven bedrooms. Ontheotherhand,hecouldgetoutonto thelawnwithease. Anythingelse?” “You do not think,” asked Phelps, “that he had anymurderousintention? Theknifewasonlymeant asatool.” “Itmaybeso,”answeredHolmes,shrugginghis shoulders. “IcanonlysayforcertainthatMr.Joseph HarrisonisagentlemantowhosemercyIshouldbe extremelyunwillingtotrust.”t is with a heavy heart that I take up my pentowritethesethelastwordsinwhichI shalleverrecordthesingulargiftsbywhich I my friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes was dis- tinguished. In an incoherent and, as I deeply feel, an entirely inadequate fashion, I have endeavored to give some account of my strange experiences in his company from the chance which first brought us together at the period of the “Study in Scarlet,” up to the time of his interference in the matter of the “Naval Treaty”—an interference which had the unquestionable effect of preventing a serious inter- national complication. It was my intention to have stoppedthere,andtohavesaidnothingofthatevent which has created a void in my life which the lapse oftwoyearshasdonelittletofill. Myhandhasbeen forced,however,bytherecentlettersinwhichColonel James Moriarty defends the memory of his brother, and I have no choice but to lay the facts before the public exactly as they occurred. I alone know the absolute truth of the matter, and I am satisfied that the time has come when no good purpose is to be servedbyitssuppression. AsfarasIknow,therehave beenonlythreeaccountsinthepublicpress: thatin the Journal de Gene`ve on May 6th, 1891, the Reuter’s despatch in the English papers on May 7th, and fi- nally the recent letters to which I have alluded. Of thesethefirstandsecondwereextremelycondensed, while the last is, as I shall now show, an absolute perversionofthefacts. Itlieswithmetotellforthe first time what really took place between Professor MoriartyandMr.SherlockHolmes.</s>Itmayberememberedthataftermymarriage,and my subsequent start in private practice, the very in- timaterelationswhichhadexistedbetweenHolmes andmyselfbecametosomeextentmodified. Hestill cametomefromtimetotimewhenhedesiredacom- panioninhisinvestigation,buttheseoccasionsgrew more and more seldom, until I find that in the year 1890therewereonlythreecasesofwhichIretainany record. Duringthewinterofthatyearandtheearly springof1891,Isawinthepapersthathehadbeen engagedbytheFrenchgovernmentuponamatterof supremeimportance,andIreceivedtwonotesfrom Holmes,datedfromNarbonneandfromNimes,from whichIgatheredthathisstayinFrancewaslikelyto be a long one. It was with some surprise, therefore, that I saw him walk into my consulting-room upon the evening of April 24th. It struck me that he was lookingevenpalerandthinnerthanusual.</s>“Yes, I have been using myself up rather too freely,” he remarked, in answer to my look rather thantomywords;“Ihavebeenalittlepressedoflate.</s>Haveyouanyobjectiontomyclosingyourshutters?” The only light in the room came from the lamp uponthetableatwhichIhadbeenreading. Holmes edgedhiswayroundthewallandflingingtheshut- terstogether,heboltedthemsecurely.</s>“Youareafraidofsomething?”Iasked.</s>“Well,Iam.” “Ofwhat?” “Ofair-guns.” “MydearHolmes,whatdoyoumean?” “Ithinkthatyouknowmewellenough,Watson, tounderstandthatIambynomeansanervousman.</s>Atthesametime,itisstupidityratherthancourage to refuse to recognize danger when it is close upon you. Might I trouble you for a match?” He drew in thesmokeofhiscigaretteasifthesoothinginfluence wasgratefultohim.</s>“Imustapologizeforcallingsolate,”saidhe,“and Imustfurtherbegyoutobesounconventionalasto allowmetoleaveyourhousepresentlybyscrambling overyourbackgardenwall.” “Butwhatdoesitallmean?”Iasked.</s>He held out his hand, and I saw in the light of the lamp that two of his knuckles were burst and bleeding.</s>“Itisnotanairynothing,yousee,”saidhe,smil- ing. “Onthecontrary,itissolidenoughforamanto breakhishandover. IsMrs.Watsonin?” “Sheisawayuponavisit.” “Indeed! Youarealone?” “Quite.” “Thenitmakesittheeasierformetoproposethat you should come away with me for a week to the Continent.” “Where?” “Oh,anywhere. It’sallthesametome.” There was something very strange in all this. It was notHolmes’s natureto take an aimless holiday, andsomethingabouthispale,wornfacetoldmethat hisnerveswereattheirhighesttension. Hesawthe question in my eyes, and, putting his finger-tips to- getherandhiselbowsuponhisknees,heexplained thesituation.</s>“YouhaveprobablyneverheardofProfessorMo- riarty?”saidhe.</s>“Never.” “Aye, there’s the genius and the wonder of the thing!” he cried. “The man pervades London, andnoonehasheardofhim. That’swhatputshimona pinnacleintherecordsofcrime. Itellyou,Watson,in allseriousness,thatifIcouldbeatthatman,ifIcould freesocietyofhim,Ishouldfeelthatmyowncareer had reached its summit, and I should be prepared to turn to some more placid line in life. Between ourselves, the recent cases in which I have been of assistancetotheroyalfamilyofScandinavia,andto the French republic, have left me in such a position thatIcouldcontinuetoliveinthequietfashionwhich ismostcongenialtome,andtoconcentratemyatten- tion upon my chemical researches. But I could not rest, Watson, I could not sit quiet in my chair, if I thoughtthatsuchamanasProfessorMoriartywere walkingthestreetsofLondonunchallenged.” “Whathashedone,then?” “Hiscareerhasbeenanextraordinaryone. Heisa manofgoodbirthandexcellenteducation,endowed by nature with a phenomenal mathematical faculty.</s>At the age of twenty-one he wrote a treatise upon the Binomial Theorem, which has had a European vogue. On the strength of it he won the Mathemati- calChairatoneofoursmalleruniversities,andhad, toallappearance,amostbrilliantcareerbeforehim.</s>But the man had hereditary tendencies of the most diabolical kind. A criminal strain ran in his blood, which,insteadofbeingmodified,wasincreasedand renderedinfinitelymoredangerousbyhisextraordi- nary mental powers. Dark rumors gathered round him in the university town, and eventually he was compelled to resign his chair and to come down to London,wherehesetupasanarmycoach. Somuch isknowntotheworld,butwhatIamtellingyounow iswhatIhavemyselfdiscovered.</s>“As you are aware, Watson, there is no one who knowsthehighercriminalworldofLondonsowellas Ido. ForyearspastIhavecontinuallybeenconscious ofsomepowerbehindthemalefactor,somedeepor- ganizingpowerwhichforeverstandsinthewayofthe law,andthrowsitsshieldoverthewrong-doer. Again andagainincasesofthemostvaryingsorts—forgery cases,robberies,murders—Ihavefeltthepresenceof this force, and I have deduced its action in many of thoseundiscoveredcrimesinwhichIhavenotbeen personallyconsulted. ForyearsIhaveendeavoredto breakthroughtheveilwhichshroudedit,andatlast thetimecamewhenIseizedmythreadandfollowed it,untilitledme,afterathousandcunningwindings, toex-ProfessorMoriartyofmathematicalcelebrity.</s>“HeistheNapoleonofcrime,Watson. Heisthe organizerofhalfthatisevilandofnearlyallthatis undetectedinthisgreatcity. Heisagenius,aphiloso- pher, an abstract thinker. He has a brain of the first order. Hesitsmotionless,likeaspiderinthecenterof itsweb,butthatwebhasathousandradiations,and heknowswelleveryquiverofeachofthem. Hedoes little himself. He only plans. But his agents are nu- merousandsplendidlyorganized. Isthereacrimeto bedone,apapertobeabstracted,wewillsay,ahouse toberifled,amantoberemoved—thewordispassed totheProfessor,thematterisorganizedandcarried out. The agent may be caught. In that case money is found for his bail or his defence. But the central powerwhichusestheagentisnevercaught—neverso muchassuspected. Thiswastheorganizationwhich I deduced, Watson, and which I devoted my whole energytoexposingandbreakingup.</s>“But the Professor was fenced round with safe- guardssocunninglydevisedthat,dowhatIwould, it seemed impossible to get evidence which would convictinacourtoflaw. Youknowmypowers,my dear Watson, and yet at the end of three months I wasforcedtoconfessthatIhadatlastmetanantag- onist who was my intellectual equal. My horror at hiscrimeswaslostinmyadmirationathisskill. But atlasthemadeatrip—onlyalittle,littletrip—butit was more than he could afford when I was so close uponhim. Ihadmychance,and,startingfromthat point, I have woven my net round him until now it isallreadytoclose. Inthreedays—thatistosay,on Mondaynext—matterswillberipe,andtheProfessor, withalltheprincipalmembersofhisgang,willbein thehandsofthepolice. Thenwillcomethegreatest criminal trial of the century, the clearing up of over fortymysteries,andtheropeforallofthem;butifwe move at all prematurely, you understand, they may slipoutofourhandsevenatthelastmoment.</s>“Now,ifIcouldhavedonethiswithouttheknowl- edgeofProfessorMoriarty,allwouldhavebeenwell.</s>Buthewastoowilyforthat. Hesaweverystepwhich Itooktodrawmytoilsroundhim. Againandagain hestrovetobreakaway,butIasoftenheadedhimoff.</s>Itellyou,myfriend,thatifadetailedaccountofthat silentcontestcouldbewritten,itwouldtakeitsplace asthemostbrilliantbitofthrust-and-parryworkin thehistoryofdetection. NeverhaveIrisentosucha height,andneverhaveIbeensohardpressedbyan opponent. Hecutdeep,andyetIjustundercuthim.</s>Thismorningthelaststepsweretaken,andthreedays only were wanted to complete the business. I was sittinginmyroomthinkingthematterover,whenthe dooropenedandProfessorMoriartystoodbeforeme.</s>“My nerves are fairly proof, Watson, but I mustconfesstoastartwhenIsawtheverymanwhohad beensomuchinmythoughtsstandingthereonmy threshold. Hisappearancewasquitefamiliartome.</s>Heisextremelytallandthin,hisforeheaddomesout inawhitecurve,andhistwoeyesaredeeplysunken in his head. He is clean-shaven, pale, and ascetic- looking, retaining something of the professor in his features. Hisshouldersareroundedfrommuchstudy, andhisfaceprotrudesforward,andisforeverslowly oscillating from side to side in a curiously reptilian fashion. Hepeeredatmewithgreatcuriosityinhis puckeredeyes.</s>“‘YouhavelessfrontaldevelopmentthatIshould have expected,’ said he, at last. ‘It is a dangerous habittofingerloadedfirearmsinthepocketofone’s dressing-gown.’ “ThefactisthatuponhisentranceIhadinstantly recognized the extreme personal danger in which I lay. The only conceivable escape for him lay in si- lencing my tongue. In an instant I had slipped the revolver from the drawer into my pocket, and was coveringhimthroughthecloth. AthisremarkIdrew the weapon out and laid it cocked upon the table.</s>Hestillsmiledandblinked,buttherewassomething about his eyes which made me feel very glad that I haditthere.</s>“‘Youevidentlydon’tknowme,’saidhe.</s>“‘Onthecontrary,’Ianswered,‘Ithinkitisfairly evident that I do. Pray take a chair. I can spare you fiveminutesifyouhaveanythingtosay.’ “‘AllthatIhavetosayhasalreadycrossedyour mind,’saidhe.</s>“‘Thenpossiblymyanswerhascrossedyours,’I replied.</s>“‘Youstandfast?’ “‘Absolutely.’ “Heclappedhishandintohispocket,andIraised the pistol from the table. But he merely drew out a memorandum-bookinwhichhehadscribbledsome dates.</s>“‘Youcrossedmypathonthe4thofJanuary,’said he. ‘Onthe23dyouincommodedme;bythemiddle of February I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at the close of April, I find my- selfplacedinsuchapositionthroughyourcontinual persecutionthatIaminpositivedangeroflosingmy liberty. Thesituationisbecominganimpossibleone.’ “‘Haveyouanysuggestiontomake?’ Iasked.</s>“‘Youmustdropit,Mr.Holmes,’saidhe,swaying hisfaceabout. ‘Youreallymust,youknow.’ “‘AfterMonday,’saidI.</s>“‘Tut, tut,’ said he. ‘I am quite sure that a man ofyourintelligencewillseethattherecanbebutone outcometothisaffair. Itisnecessarythatyoushould withdraw. Youhaveworkedthingsinsuchafashion that we have only one resource left. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see the way in which you havegrappledwiththisaffair,andIsay,unaffectedly, thatitwouldbeagrieftometobeforcedtotakeany extrememeasure. Yousmile,sir,butIassureyouthat itreallywould.’ “‘Dangerispartofmytrade,’Iremarked.</s>“‘That is not danger,’ said he. ‘It is inevitable destruction. You stand in the way not merely of an individual,butofamightyorganization,thefullex- tentofwhichyou,withallyourcleverness,havebeen unabletorealize. Youmuststandclear,Mr.Holmes, orbetroddenunderfoot.’ “‘Iamafraid,’saidI,rising,‘thatinthepleasure of this conversation I am neglecting business of im- portancewhichawaitsmeelsewhere.’ “Herosealsoandlookedatmeinsilence,shaking hisheadsadly.</s>“‘Well,well,’saidhe,atlast. ‘Itseemsapity,butI havedonewhatIcould. Iknoweverymoveofyour game. YoucandonothingbeforeMonday. Ithasbeen aduelbetweenyouandme,Mr.Holmes. Youhope to place me in the dock. I tell you that I will never standinthedock. Youhopetobeatme. Itellyouthat you will never beat me. If you are clever enough to bring destruction upon me, rest assured that I shall doasmuchtoyou.’ “‘Youhavepaidmeseveralcompliments,Mr.Mo- riarty,’ said I. ‘Let me pay you one in return when I saythatifIwereassuredoftheformereventualityI would,intheinterestsofthepublic,cheerfullyaccept thelatter.’ “‘Icanpromiseyoutheone,butnottheother,’he snarled, and so turned his rounded back upon me, andwentpeeringandblinkingoutoftheroom.</s>“That was my singular interview with Professor Moriarty. I confess that it left an unpleasant effect upon my mind. His soft, precise fashion of speech leaves a conviction of sincerity which a mere bully couldnotproduce. Ofcourse,youwillsay: ‘Whynot take police precautions against him?’ the reason is thatIamwellconvincedthatitisfromhisagentsthe blowwouldfall. Ihavethebestproofsthatitwould beso.” “Youhavealreadybeenassaulted?”“My dear Watson, Professor Moriarty is not a man who lets the grass grow under his feet. I went out about mid-day to transact some business in Ox- fordStreet. AsIpassedthecornerwhichleadsfrom Bentinck Street on to the Welbeck Street crossing a two-horse van furiously driven whizzed round and wasonmelikeaflash. Isprangforthefoot-pathand saved myself by the fraction of a second. The van dashedroundbyMaryleboneLaneandwasgonein aninstant. Ikepttothepavementafterthat,Watson, butasIwalkeddownVereStreetabrickcamedown fromtheroofofoneofthehouses,andwasshattered tofragmentsatmyfeet. Icalledthepoliceandhadthe place examined. There were slates and bricks piled upontheroofpreparatorytosomerepairs,andthey would have me believe that the wind had toppled overoneofthese. OfcourseIknewbetter,butIcould provenothing. Itookacabafterthatandreachedmy brother’s rooms in Pall Mall, where I spent the day.</s>NowIhavecomeroundtoyou,andonmywayIwas attackedbyaroughwithabludgeon. Iknockedhim down,andthepolicehavehimincustody;butIcan tell you with the most absolute confidence that no possible connection will ever be traced between the gentlemanuponwhosefrontteethIhavebarkedmy knucklesandtheretiringmathematicalcoach,whois, Idaresay,workingoutproblemsuponablack-board ten miles away. You will not wonder, Watson, that myfirstactonenteringyourroomswastocloseyour shutters,andthatIhavebeencompelledtoaskyour permissiontoleavethehousebysomelessconspicu- ousexitthanthefrontdoor.” Ihadoftenadmiredmyfriend’scourage,butnever morethannow,ashesatquietlycheckingoffaseries ofincidentswhichmusthavecombinedtomakeupa dayofhorror.</s>“Youwillspendthenighthere?”Isaid.</s>“No, my friend, you might find me a dangerous guest. Ihavemyplanslaid,andallwillbewell. Mat- tershavegonesofarnowthattheycanmovewithout myhelpasfarasthearrestgoes,thoughmypresence isnecessaryforaconviction. Itisobvious,therefore, thatIcannotdobetterthangetawayforthefewdays which remain before the police are at liberty to act.</s>Itwouldbeagreatpleasuretome,therefore,ifyou couldcomeontotheContinentwithme.” “The practice is quiet,” said I, “and I have an ac- commodatingneighbor. Ishouldbegladtocome.” “Andtostartto-morrowmorning?” “Ifnecessary.” “Ohyes,itismostnecessary. Thentheseareyour instructions,andIbeg,mydearWatson,thatyouwill obey them to the letter, for you are now playing a double-handed game with me against the cleverest rogueandthemostpowerfulsyndicateofcriminals in Europe. Now listen! You will dispatch whatever luggage you intend to take by a trusty messenger unaddressedtoVictoriato-night. Inthemorningyou will send for a hansom, desiring your man to take neither the first nor the second which may present itself. Intothishansomyouwilljump,andyouwill drivetotheStrandendoftheLowtherArcade,hand- ing the address to the cabman upon a slip of paper, with a request that he will not throw it away. Have your fare ready, and the instant that your cab stops, dash through the Arcade, timing yourself to reach theothersideataquarter-pastnine. Youwillfinda smallbroughamwaitingclosetothecurb,drivenby afellowwithaheavyblackcloaktippedatthecollar withred. Intothisyouwillstep,andyouwillreach VictoriaintimefortheContinentalexpress.” “WhereshallImeetyou?” “At the station. The second first-class carriage fromthefrontwillbereservedforus.” “Thecarriageisourrendezvous,then?” “Yes.” It was in vain that I asked Holmes to remain for theevening. Itwasevidenttomethathethoughthe mightbringtroubletotheroofhewasunder,andthat thatwasthemotivewhichimpelledhimtogo. With afewhurriedwordsastoourplansforthemorrow heroseandcameoutwithmeintothegarden,clam- beringoverthewallwhichleadsintoMortimerStreet, andimmediatelywhistlingforahansom,inwhichI heardhimdriveaway.</s>InthemorningIobeyedHolmes’sinjunctionsto theletter. Ahansomwasprocuredwithsuchprecau- tionaswouldpreventitsbeingonewhichwasplaced readyforus,andIdroveimmediatelyafterbreakfast to the Lowther Arcade, through which I hurried at thetopofmyspeed. Abroughamwaswaitingwith averymassivedriverwrappedinadarkcloak,who, the instant that I had stepped in, whipped up the horseandrattledofftoVictoriaStation. Onmyalight- ing there he turned the carriage, and dashed away againwithoutsomuchasalookinmydirection.</s>So far all had gone admirably. My luggage was waitingforme,andIhadnodifficultyinfindingthe carriagewhichHolmeshadindicated,thelesssoas it was the only one in the train which was marked “Engaged.” My only source of anxiety now was thenon-appearanceofHolmes. Thestationclockmarked only seven minutes from the time when we were due to start. In vain I searched among the groups of travellers and leave-takers for the lithe figure of my friend. There was no sign of him. I spent a few minutes in assisting a venerable Italian priest, who wasendeavoringtomakeaporterunderstand,inhis broken English, that his luggage was to be booked through to Paris. Then, having taken another look round,Ireturnedtomycarriage,whereIfoundthat the porter, in spite of the ticket, had given me my decrepit Italian friend as a traveling companion. It was useless for me to explain to him that his pres- encewasanintrusion,formyItalianwasevenmore limitedthanhisEnglish,soIshruggedmyshoulders resignedly, and continued to look out anxiously for my friend. A chill of fear had come over me, as I thoughtthathisabsencemightmeanthatsomeblow had fallen during the night. Already the doors had allbeenshutandthewhistleblown,when— “My dear Watson,” said a voice, “you have not evencondescendedtosaygood-morning.” Iturnedinuncontrollableastonishment. Theaged ecclesiastic had turned his face towards me. For an instant the wrinkles were smoothed away, the nose drew away from the chin, the lower lip ceased to protrudeandthemouthtomumble,thedulleyesre- gainedtheirfire,thedroopingfigureexpanded. The next the whole frame collapsed again, and Holmes hadgoneasquicklyashehadcome.</s>“Goodheavens!”Icried;“howyoustartledme!” “Everyprecautionisstillnecessary,”hewhispered.</s>“Ihavereasontothinkthattheyarehotuponourtrail.</s>Ah,thereisMoriartyhimself.” ThetrainhadalreadybeguntomoveasHolmes spoke. Glancing back, I saw a tall man pushing his way furiously through the crowd, and waving his hand as if he desired to have the train stopped. It wastoolate,however,forwewererapidlygathering momentum,andaninstantlaterhadshotclearofthe station.</s>“With all our precautions, you see that we have cut it rather fine,” said Holmes, laughing. He rose, and throwing off the black cassock and hat which hadformedhisdisguise, hepackedthemawayina hand-bag.</s>“Haveyouseenthemorningpaper,Watson?” “No.” “Youhaven’tseenaboutBakerStreet,then?” “BakerStreet?” “They set fire to our rooms last night. No great harmwasdone.” “Goodheavens,Holmes,thisisintolerable!” “They must have lost my track completely after their bludgeon-man was arrested. Otherwise they could not have imagined that I had returned to my rooms. Theyhaveevidentlytakentheprecautionof watchingyou,however,andthatiswhathasbrought Moriarty to Victoria. You could not have made any slipincoming?” “Ididexactlywhatyouadvised.” “Didyoufindyourbrougham?” “Yes,itwaswaiting.” “Didyourecognizeyourcoachman?” “No.” “ItwasmybrotherMycroft. Itisanadvantageto getaboutinsuchacasewithouttakingamercenary intoyourconfidence. Butwemustplanwhatweare todoaboutMoriartynow.” “As this is an express, and as the boat runs in connection with it, I should think we have shaken himoffveryeffectively.” “My dear Watson, you evidently did not realize mymeaningwhenIsaidthatthismanmaybetaken as being quite on the same intellectual plane as my- self. You do not imagine that if I were the pursuer I should allow myself to be baffled by so slight an obstacle. Why, then, should you think so meanly of him?” “Whatwillhedo?” “WhatIshoulddo.” “Whatwouldyoudo,then?” “Engageaspecial.” “Butitmustbelate.” “Bynomeans. ThistrainstopsatCanterbury;and thereisalwaysatleastaquarterofanhour’sdelayat theboat. Hewillcatchusthere.” “Onewouldthinkthatwewerethecriminals. Let ushavehimarrestedonhisarrival.” “Itwouldbetoruintheworkofthreemonths. We should get the big fish, but the smaller would dart rightandleftoutofthenet. OnMondayweshould havethemall. No,anarrestisinadmissible.” “Whatthen?” “WeshallgetoutatCanterbury.” “Andthen?” “Well,thenwemustmakeacross-countryjourney to Newhaven, and so over to Dieppe. Moriarty will again do what I should do. He will get on to Paris,markdownourluggage,andwaitfortwodaysatthe depot. Inthemeantimeweshalltreatourselvestoa coupleofcarpet-bags,encouragethemanufacturesof thecountriesthroughwhichwetravel,andmakeour wayatourleisureintoSwitzerland,viaLuxembourg andBasle.” AtCanterbury,therefore,wealighted,onlytofind thatweshouldhavetowaitanhourbeforewecould getatraintoNewhaven.</s>I was still looking rather ruefully after the rapidly disappearing luggage-van which contained my wardrobe, when Holmes pulled my sleeve and pointeduptheline.</s>“Already,yousee,”saidhe.</s>Far away, from among the Kentish woods there roseathinsprayofsmoke. Aminutelateracarriage andenginecouldbeseenflyingalongtheopencurve whichleadstothestation. Wehadhardlytimetotake our place behind a pile of luggage when it passed witharattleandaroar,beatingablastofhotairinto ourfaces.</s>“Therehegoes,”saidHolmes,aswewatchedthe carriage swing and rock over the point. “There are limits,yousee,toourfriend’sintelligence. Itwould have been a coup-de-maˆıtre had he deduced what I woulddeduceandactedaccordingly.” “Andwhatwouldhehavedonehadheovertaken us?” “There cannot be the least doubt that he would havemadeamurderousattackuponme. Itis, how- ever, a game at which two may play. The question now is whether we should take a premature lunch here, or run our chance of starving before we reach thebuffetatNewhaven.” WemadeourwaytoBrusselsthatnightandspent twodaysthere,movingonuponthethirddayasfar asStrasburg. OntheMondaymorningHolmeshad telegraphedtotheLondonpolice,andintheevening wefoundareplywaitingforusatourhotel. Holmes toreitopen,andthenwithabittercursehurleditinto thegrate.</s>“I might have known it!” he groaned. “He has escaped!” “Moriarty?” “They have secured the whole gang with the ex- ceptionofhim. Hehasgiventhemtheslip. Ofcourse, whenIhadleftthecountrytherewasnoonetocope with him. But I did think that I had put the game in their hands. I think that you had better return to England,Watson.” “Why?” “Becauseyouwillfindmeadangerouscompanion now. Thisman’soccupationisgone. Heislostifhe returnstoLondon. IfIreadhischaracterrighthewill devotehiswholeenergiestorevenginghimselfupon me. He said as much in our short interview, and I fancythathemeantit. Ishouldcertainlyrecommend youtoreturntoyourpractice.” Itwashardlyanappealtobesuccessfulwithone whowasanoldcampaigneraswellasanoldfriend.</s>We sat in the Strasbourg salle-a`-manger arguing the questionforhalfanhour,butthesamenightwehad resumed our journey and were well on our way to Geneva.</s>ForacharmingweekwewandereduptheValley of the Rhone, and then, branching off at Leuk, we made our way over the Gemmi Pass, still deep in snow,andso,bywayofInterlaken,toMeiringen. It wasalovelytrip,thedaintygreenofthespringbelow, thevirginwhiteofthewinterabove;butitwasclear tomethatneverforoneinstantdidHolmesforgetthe shadowwhichlayacrosshim. InthehomelyAlpine villagesorinthelonelymountainpasses,Icouldtell byhisquickglancingeyesandhissharpscrutinyof everyfacethatpassedus,thathewaswellconvinced that, walk where we would, we could not walk our- selves clear of the danger which was dogging our footsteps.</s>Once,Iremember,aswepassedovertheGemmi, and walked along the border of the melancholy Daubensee, a large rock which had been dislodged from the ridge upon our right clattered down and roaredintothelakebehindus. InaninstantHolmes had raced up on to the ridge, and, standing upon a loftypinnacle,cranedhisneckineverydirection. It wasinvainthatourguideassuredhimthatafallof stones was a common chance in the spring-time at thatspot. Hesaidnothing,buthesmiledatmewith theairofamanwhoseesthefulfillmentofthatwhich hehadexpected.</s>Andyetforallhiswatchfulnesshewasneverde- pressed. Onthecontrary,Icanneverrecollecthaving seenhiminsuchexuberantspirits. Againandagain herecurredtothefactthatifhecouldbeassuredthat societywasfreedfromProfessorMoriartyhewould cheerfullybringhisowncareertoaconclusion.</s>“IthinkthatImaygosofarastosay,Watson,that Ihavenotlivedwhollyinvain,”heremarked. “Ifmy recordwereclosedto-nightIcouldstillsurveyitwith equanimity. TheairofLondonisthesweeterformy presence. In over a thousand cases I am not aware that I have ever used my powers upon the wrongside. Of late I have been tempted to look into the problemsfurnishedbynatureratherthanthosemore superficial ones for which our artificial state of so- ciety is responsible. Your memoirs will draw to an end,Watson,uponthedaythatIcrownmycareerby thecaptureorextinctionofthemostdangerousand capablecriminalinEurope.” I shall be brief, and yet exact, in the little which remains for me to tell. It is not a subject on which I wouldwillinglydwell,andyetIamconsciousthata dutydevolvesuponmetoomitnodetail.</s>It was on the third of May that we reached the littlevillageofMeiringen,whereweputupattheEn- glischerHof,thenkeptbyPeterSteilertheelder. Our landlordwasanintelligentman,andspokeexcellent English,havingservedforthreeyearsaswaiteratthe Grosvenor Hotel in London. At his advice, on the afternoon of the fourth we set off together, with the intentionofcrossingthehillsandspendingthenight atthehamletofRosenlaui. Wehadstrictinjunctions, however, on no account to pass the falls of Reichen- bach, which are about half-way up the hill, without makingasmalldetourtoseethem.</s>Itis,indeed,afearfulplace. Thetorrent,swollen bythemeltingsnow,plungesintoatremendousabyss, fromwhichthesprayrollsuplikethesmokefroma burning house. The shaft into which the river hurls itselfisanimmensechasm,linedbyglisteningcoal- blackrock,andnarrowingintoacreaming,boilingpit ofincalculabledepth,whichbrimsoverandshootsthe streamonwardoveritsjaggedlip. Thelongsweepof greenwaterroaringforeverdown,andthethickflick- eringcurtainofsprayhissingforeverupward,turna mangiddywiththeirconstantwhirlandclamor. We stoodneartheedgepeeringdownatthegleamofthe breakingwaterfarbelowusagainsttheblackrocks, and listening to the half-human shout which came boomingupwiththesprayoutoftheabyss.</s>Thepathhasbeencuthalf-wayroundthefallto affordacompleteview,butitendsabruptly,andthe travelerhastoreturnashecame. Wehadturnedto doso,whenwesawaSwissladcomerunningalong it with a letter in his hand. It bore the mark of the hotel which we had just left, and was addressed to me by the landlord. It appeared that within a very few minutes of our leaving, an English lady had ar- rivedwhowasinthelaststageofconsumption. She had wintered at Davos Platz, and was journeying now to join her friends at Lucerne, when a sudden hemorrhage had overtaken her. It was thought that she could hardly live a few hours, but it would be a great consolation to her to see an English doctor, and, if I would only return, etc. The good Steiler assuredmeinapostscriptthathewouldhimselflook uponmycomplianceasaverygreatfavor,sincethe ladyabsolutelyrefusedtoseeaSwissphysician,and he could not but feel that he was incurring a great responsibility.</s>Theappealwasonewhichcouldnotbeignored.</s>It was impossible to refuse the request of a fellow- countrywomandyinginastrangeland. YetIhadmy scruplesaboutleavingHolmes. Itwasfinallyagreed, however,thatheshouldretaintheyoungSwissmes- senger with him as guide and companion while I returned to Meiringen. My friend would stay some little time at the fall, he said, and would then walk slowlyoverthehilltoRosenlaui,whereIwastorejoin himintheevening. AsIturnedawayIsawHolmes, withhisbackagainstarockandhisarmsfolded,gaz- ing down at the rush of the waters. It was the last thatIwaseverdestinedtoseeofhiminthisworld.</s>When I was near the bottom of the descent I lookedback. Itwasimpossible,fromthatposition,to see the fall, but I could see the curving path which winds over the shoulder of the hill and leads to it.</s>Along this a man was, I remember, walking very rapidly.</s>Icouldseehisblackfigureclearlyoutlinedagainst the green behind him. I noted him, and the energy withwhichhewalkedbuthepassedfrommymind againasIhurriedonuponmyerrand.</s>It may have been a little over an hour before I reached Meiringen. Old Steiler was standing at the porchofhishotel.</s>“Well,”saidI,asIcamehurryingup,“Itrustthat sheisnoworse?” Alookofsurprisepassedoverhisface,andatthe firstquiverofhiseyebrowsmyheartturnedtolead inmybreast.</s>“Youdidnotwritethis?”Isaid,pullingtheletter frommypocket. “ThereisnosickEnglishwomanin thehotel?” “Certainly not!” he cried. “But it has the hotel markuponit! Ha,itmusthavebeenwrittenbythat tallEnglishmanwhocameinafteryouhadgone. He said—” But I waited for none of the landlord’s explana- tions. InatingleoffearIwasalreadyrunningdown the village street, and making for the path which I hadsolatelydescended. Ithadtakenmeanhourto comedown. Forallmyeffortstwomorehadpassed beforeIfoundmyselfatthefallofReichenbachonce more. TherewasHolmes’sAlpine-stockstillleaning against the rock by which I had left him. But therewasnosignofhim,anditwasinvainthatIshouted.</s>Myonlyanswerwasmyownvoicereverberatingina rollingechofromthecliffsaroundme.</s>ItwasthesightofthatAlpine-stockwhichturned mecoldandsick. HehadnotgonetoRosenlaui,then.</s>Hehadremainedonthatthree-footpath,withsheer wall on one side and sheer drop on the other, until hisenemyhadovertakenhim. TheyoungSwisshad gone too. He had probably been in the pay of Mo- riarty, and had left the two men together. And then what had happened? Who was to tell us what had happenedthen? I stood for a minute or two to collect myself, for I was dazed with the horror of the thing. Then I begantothinkofHolmes’sownmethodsandtotry topractisetheminreadingthistragedy. Itwas,alas, onlytooeasytodo. Duringourconversationwehad notgonetotheendofthepath,andtheAlpine-stock markedtheplacewherewehadstood. Theblackish soiliskeptforeversoftbytheincessantdriftofspray, and a bird would leave its tread upon it. Two lines of footmarks were clearly marked along the farther end of the path, both leading away from me. There were none returning. A few yards from the end the soil was all ploughed up into a patch of mud, and thebranchesandfernswhichfringedthechasmwere tornandbedraggled. Ilayuponmyfaceandpeered overwiththesprayspoutingupallaroundme. Ithad darkenedsinceIleft,andnowIcouldonlyseehere and there the glistening of moisture upon the black walls,andfarawaydownattheendoftheshaftthe gleam of the broken water. I shouted; but only the samehalf-humancryofthefallwasbornebacktomy ears.</s>But it was destined that I should after all have a lastwordofgreetingfrommyfriendandcomrade. I havesaidthathisAlpine-stockhadbeenleftleaning againstarockwhichjuttedontothepath. Fromthe top of this boulder the gleam of something bright caughtmyeye,and,raisingmyhand,Ifoundthatit camefromthesilvercigarette-casewhichheusedto carry. As I took it up a small square of paper upon which it had lain fluttered down on to the ground.</s>Unfoldingit,Ifoundthatitconsistedofthreepages tornfromhisnote-bookandaddressedtome. Itwas characteristic of the man that the direction was as precise,andthewritingasfirmandclear,asthough ithadbeenwritteninhisstudy.</s>MydearWatson[itsaid]: Iwritethesefewlinesthroughthecour- tesyofMr.Moriarty,whoawaitsmycon- venienceforthefinaldiscussionofthose questions which lie between us. He has beengivingmeasketchofthemethodsby whichheavoidedtheEnglishpoliceand kepthimselfinformedofourmovements.</s>Theycertainlyconfirmtheveryhighopin- ionwhich Ihad formed ofhisabilities. I am pleased to think that I shall be able tofreesocietyfromanyfurthereffectsof his presence, though I fear that it is at a cost which will give pain to my friends, andespecially,mydearWatson,toyou. I have already explained to you, however, thatmycareerhadinanycasereachedits crisis, and that no possible conclusion to itcouldbemorecongenialtomethanthis.</s>Indeed,ifImaymakeafullconfessionto you,Iwasquiteconvincedthattheletter fromMeiringenwasahoax,andIallowed you to depart on that errand under the persuasionthatsomedevelopmentofthis sortwouldfollow. TellInspectorPatterson thatthepaperswhichheneedstoconvict thegangareinpigeonholeM.,doneupin ablueenvelopeandinscribed“Moriarty.” Imadeeverydispositionofmyproperty beforeleavingEngland,andhandeditto my brother Mycroft. Pray give my greet- ingstoMrs.Watson,andbelievemetobe, mydearfellow, —Verysincerelyyours, SherlockHolmes A few words may suffice to tell the little that re- mains. Anexaminationbyexpertsleaveslittledoubt thatapersonalcontestbetweenthetwomenended, as it could hardly fail to end in such a situation, in their reeling over, locked in each other’s arms. Any attemptatrecoveringthebodieswasabsolutelyhope- less,andthere,deepdowninthatdreadfulcauldron of swirling water and seething foam, will lie for all time the most dangerous criminal and the foremost champion of the law of their generation. The Swiss youth was never found again, and there can be no doubtthathewasoneofthenumerousagentswhom Moriartykeptinhisemploy. Astothegang,itwillbe withinthememoryofthepublichowcompletelythe evidence which Holmes had accumulated exposed theirorganization,andhowheavilythehandofthe deadmanweigheduponthem. Oftheirterriblechief fewdetailscameoutduringtheproceedings,andifI havenowbeencompelledtomakeaclearstatement ofhiscareeritisduetothoseinjudiciouschampions whohaveendeavoredtoclearhismemorybyattackstwasinthespringoftheyear1894thatall Londonwasinterested,andthefashionable worlddismayed,bythemurderoftheHon- I ourableRonaldAdairundermostunusual and inexplicable circumstances. The public has al- ready learned those particulars of the crime which cameoutinthepoliceinvestigation;butagooddeal wassuppresseduponthatoccasion,sincethecasefor theprosecutionwassooverwhelminglystrongthatit wasnotnecessarytobringforwardallthefacts. Only now, at the end of nearly ten years, am I allowed to supplythosemissinglinkswhichmakeupthewhole of that remarkable chain. The crime was of interest initself,butthatinterestwasasnothingtomecom- paredtotheinconceivablesequel,whichaffordedme the greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurouslife. Evennow,afterthislonginterval,I findmyselfthrillingasIthinkofit,andfeelingonce more that sudden flood of joy, amazement, and in- credulitywhichutterlysubmergedmymind. Letme saytothatpublicwhichhasshownsomeinterestin thoseglimpseswhichIhaveoccasionallygiventhem ofthethoughtsandactionsofaveryremarkableman thattheyarenottoblamemeifIhavenotsharedmy knowledgewiththem,forIshouldhaveconsideredit myfirstdutytohavedonesohadInotbeenbarred by a positive prohibition from his own lips, which wasonlywithdrawnuponthethirdoflastmonth.</s>It can be imagined that my close intimacy with SherlockHolmeshadinterestedmedeeplyincrime, andthatafterhisdisappearanceIneverfailedtoread with care the various problems which came before thepublic,andIevenattemptedmorethanoncefor myownprivatesatisfactiontoemployhismethodsin theirsolution,thoughwithindifferentsuccess. There was none, however, which appealed to me like this tragedyofRonaldAdair. AsIreadtheevidenceatthe inquest, which led up to a verdict of wilful murder againstsomepersonorpersonsunknown,Irealized moreclearlythanIhadeverdonethelosswhichthe community had sustained by the death of Sherlock Holmes. There were points about this strange busi- nesswhichwould,Iwassure,havespeciallyappealed tohim,andtheeffortsofthepolicewouldhavebeen supplemented,ormoreprobablyanticipated,bythe trained observation and the alert mind of the first criminalagentinEurope. AlldayasIdroveuponmy roundIturnedoverthecaseinmymind,andfound noexplanationwhichappearedtometobeadequate.</s>Attheriskoftellingatwice-toldtaleIwillrecapitu- latethefactsastheywereknowntothepublicatthe conclusionoftheinquest.</s>TheHonourableRonaldAdairwasthesecondson of the Earl of Maynooth, at that time Governor of oneoftheAustralianColonies. Adair’smotherhad returnedfromAustraliatoundergotheoperationfor cataract,andshe,hersonRonald,andherdaughter Hilda were living together at 427, Park Lane. The youth moved in the best society, had, so far as was known,noenemies,andnoparticularvices. Hehad been engaged to Miss Edith Woodley, of Carstairs, buttheengagementhadbeenbrokenoffbymutual consentsomemonthsbefore,andtherewasnosign that it had left any very profound feeling behind it.</s>For the rest the man’s life moved in a narrow and conventionalcircle,forhishabitswerequietandhis natureunemotional. Yetitwasuponthiseasy-going youngaristocratthatdeathcameinmoststrangeand unexpectedformbetweenthehoursoftenandeleven- twentyonthenightofMarch30,1894.</s>RonaldAdairwasfondofcards,playingcontinu- ally,butneverforsuchstakesaswouldhurthim. He wasamemberoftheBaldwin,theCavendish,andthe Bagatelle card clubs. It wasshown thatafter dinner on the day of his death he had played a rubber of whist at the latter club. He had also played there in theafternoon. Theevidenceofthosewhohadplayed withhim—Mr.Murray,SirJohnHardy,andColonel Moran—showed that the game was whist, and that therewasafairlyequalfallofthecards. Adairmight havelostfivepounds,butnotmore. Hisfortunewas aconsiderableone,andsuchalosscouldnotinany way affect him. He had played nearly every day at onecluborother,buthewasacautiousplayer, and usually rose a winner. It came out in evidence that in partnership with Colonel Moran he had actually wonasmuchasfourhundredandtwentypoundsin asittingsomeweeksbeforefromGodfreyMilnerand Lord Balmoral. So much for his recent history, as it cameoutattheinquest.</s>Ontheeveningofthecrimehereturnedfromthe club exactly at ten. His mother and sister were out spendingtheeveningwitharelation. Theservantde- posedthatsheheardhimenterthefrontroomonthe secondfloor,generallyusedashissitting-room. She hadlitafirethere,andasitsmokedshehadopened the window. No sound was heard from the room until eleven-twenty, the hour of the return of Lady Maynooth and her daughter. Desiring to say good- night,shehadattemptedtoenterherson’sroom. The doorwaslockedontheinside,andnoanswercould begottotheircriesandknocking. Helpwasobtained and the door forced. The unfortunate young man was found lying near the table. His head had beenhorribly mutilated by an expanding revolver bullet, but no weapon of any sort was to be found in the room. Onthetablelaytwobank-notesfortenpounds each and seventeen pounds ten in silver and gold, themoneyarrangedinlittlepilesofvaryingamount.</s>Thereweresomefiguresalsouponasheetofpaper withthenamesofsomeclubfriendsoppositetothem, fromwhichitwasconjecturedthatbeforehisdeathhe wasendeavouringtomakeouthislossesorwinnings atcards.</s>Aminuteexaminationofthecircumstancesserved onlytomakethecasemorecomplex. Inthefirstplace, noreasoncouldbegivenwhytheyoungmanshould havefastenedthedoorupontheinside. Therewasthe possibilitythatthemurdererhaddonethisandhad afterwardsescapedbythewindow. Thedropwasat least twenty feet, however, and a bed of crocuses in full bloom lay beneath. Neither the flowers nor the earthshowedanysignofhavingbeendisturbed,nor werethereanymarksuponthenarrowstripofgrass whichseparatedthehousefromtheroad. Apparently, therefore, it was the young man himself who had fastenedthedoor. Buthowdidhecomebyhisdeath? Noonecouldhaveclimbeduptothewindowwith- outleavingtraces. Supposeamanhadfiredthrough the window, it would indeed be a remarkable shot whocouldwitharevolverinflictsodeadlyawound.</s>Again,ParkLaneisafrequentedthoroughfare,and there is a cab-stand within a hundred yards of the house. Noonehadheardashot. Andyettherewas the dead man, and there the revolver bullet, which hadmushroomedout,assoft-nosedbulletswill,and soinflictedawoundwhichmusthavecausedinstan- taneous death. Such were the circumstances of the ParkLaneMystery,whichwerefurthercomplicated by entire absence of motive, since, as I have said, youngAdairwasnotknowntohaveanyenemy,and no attempt had been made to remove the money or valuablesintheroom.</s>AlldayIturnedthesefactsoverinmymind,en- deavouring to hit upon some theory which could reconcilethemall,andtofindthatlineofleastresis- tance which my poor friend had declared to be the starting-pointofeveryinvestigation. IconfessthatI madelittleprogress. IntheeveningIstrolledacross the Park, and found myself about six o’clock at the Oxford Street end of Park Lane. A group of loafers upon the pavements, all staring up at a particular window,directedmetothehousewhichIhadcome tosee. Atall,thinmanwithcolouredglasses,whom Istronglysuspectedofbeingaplain-clothesdetective, waspointingoutsometheoryofhisown,whilethe otherscrowdedroundtolistentowhathesaid. Igot asnearhimasIcould,buthisobservationsseemed tometobeabsurd,soIwithdrewagaininsomedis- gust. AsIdidsoIstruckagainstanelderlydeformed man,whohadbeenbehindme,andIknockeddown several books which he was carrying. I remember thatasIpickedthemupIobservedthetitleofoneof them,TheOriginofTreeWorship,anditstruckmethat thefellowmustbesomepoorbibliophilewho,either as a trade or as a hobby, was a collector of obscure volumes. Iendeavouredtoapologizefortheaccident, but it was evident that these books which I had so unfortunatelymaltreatedwereverypreciousobjects intheeyesoftheirowner. Withasnarlofcontempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw his curved back andwhiteside-whiskersdisappearamongthethrong.</s>MyobservationsofNo.427,ParkLanedidlittleto clearuptheprobleminwhichIwasinterested. The house was separated from the street by a low wall andrailing,thewholenotmorethanfivefeethigh. It was perfectly easy, therefore, for anyone to get into the garden, but the window was entirely inaccessi- ble,sincetherewasnowater-pipeoranythingwhich couldhelpthemostactivemantoclimbit. Morepuz- zled than ever I retraced my steps to Kensington. I hadnotbeeninmystudyfiveminuteswhenthemaid enteredtosaythatapersondesiredtoseeme. Tomy astonishmentitwasnoneotherthanmystrangeold book-collector, his sharp, wizened face peering out fromaframeofwhitehair,andhispreciousvolumes, adozenofthematleast,wedgedunderhisrightarm.</s>“You’re surprised to see me, sir,” said he, in a strange,croakingvoice.</s>IacknowledgedthatIwas.</s>“Well,I’veaconscience,sir,andwhenIchanced toseeyougointothishouse,asIcamehobblingafter you,Ithoughttomyself,I’lljuststepinandseethat kindgentleman,andtellhimthatifIwasabitgruff in my manner there was not any harm meant, and that I am much obliged to him for picking up my books.” “Youmaketoomuchofatrifle,”saidI.“MayIask howyouknewwhoIwas?” “Well,sir,ifitisn’ttoogreataliberty,Iamaneigh- bour of yours, for you’ll find my little bookshop at the corner of Church Street, and very happy to see you,Iamsure. Maybeyoucollectyourself,sir;here’s British Birds, and Catullus, and The Holy War—a bar- gaineveryoneofthem. Withfivevolumesyoucould justfillthatgaponthatsecondshelf. Itlooksuntidy, doesitnot,sir?”Imovedmyheadtolookatthecabinetbehindme.</s>WhenIturnedagainSherlockHolmeswasstanding smilingatmeacrossmystudytable. Irosetomyfeet, staredathimforsomesecondsinutteramazement, and then it appears that I must have fainted for the firstandthelasttimeinmylife. Certainlyagreymist swirledbeforemyeyes,andwhenitclearedIfound mycollar-endsundoneandthetinglingafter-tasteof brandyuponmylips. Holmeswasbendingovermy chair,hisflaskinhishand.</s>“My dear Watson,” said the well-remembered voice, “I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no ideathatyouwouldbesoaffected.” Igrippedhimbythearm.</s>“Holmes!”Icried. “Isitreallyyou? Canitindeed bethatyouarealive? Isitpossiblethatyousucceeded inclimbingoutofthatawfulabyss?” “Waitamoment,”saidhe. “Areyousurethatyou are really fit to discuss things? I have given you a seriousshockbymyunnecessarilydramaticreappear- ance.” “Iamallright,butindeed,Holmes,Icanhardly believe my eyes. Good heavens, to think that you—you of all men—should be standing in my study!”AgainIgrippedhimbythesleeveandfeltthe thin,sinewyarmbeneathit. “Well,you’renotaspirit, anyhow,” said I. “My dear chap, I am overjoyed to see you. Sit down and tell me how you came alive outofthatdreadfulchasm.” He sat opposite to me and lit a cigarette in his oldnonchalantmanner. Hewasdressedintheseedy frock-coatofthebookmerchant,buttherestofthat individual lay in a pile of white hair and old books upon the table. Holmes looked even thinner and keenerthanofold,buttherewasadead-whitetinge inhisaquilinefacewhichtoldmethathisliferecently hadnotbeenahealthyone.</s>“Iamgladtostretchmyself,Watson,”saidhe. “It is no joke when a tall man has to take a foot off his stature for several hours on end. Now, my dear fel- low,inthematteroftheseexplanationswehave,ifI mayaskforyourco-operation,ahardanddangerous night’sworkinfrontofus. Perhapsitwouldbebetter ifIgaveyouanaccountofthewholesituationwhen thatworkisfinished.” “I am full of curiosity. I should much prefer to hearnow.” “You’llcomewithmeto-night?” “Whenyoulikeandwhereyoulike.” “This is indeed like the old days. We shall have timeforamouthfulofdinnerbeforeweneedgo. Well, then, about that chasm. I had no serious difficulty ingettingoutofit,fortheverysimplereasonthatI neverwasinit.” “Youneverwereinit?” “No, Watson, I never was in it. My note to you wasabsolutelygenuine. IhadlittledoubtthatIhad come to the end of my career when I perceived the somewhat sinister figure of the late Professor Mori- arty standing upon the narrow pathway which led to safety. I read an inexorable purpose in his grey eyes. Iexchangedsomeremarkswithhim,therefore, and obtained his courteous permission to write the short note which you afterwards received. I left it with my cigarette-box and my stick and I walked alongthepathway,Moriartystillatmyheels. WhenI reachedtheendIstoodatbay. Hedrewnoweapon, butherushedatmeandthrewhislongarmsaround me. He knew that his own game was up, and was only anxious to revenge himself upon me. We tot- teredtogetheruponthebrinkofthefall. Ihavesome knowledge,however,ofbaritsu,ortheJapanesesys- temofwrestling,whichhasmorethanoncebeenvery usefultome. Islippedthroughhisgrip,andhewith a horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds and clawed the air with both his hands. But for all hisefforts hecouldnotget hisbalance, andover he went. WithmyfaceoverthebrinkIsawhimfallfor alongway. Thenhestruckarock,boundedoff,and splashedintothewater.” I listened with amazement to this explanation, which Holmes delivered between the puffs of his cigarette.</s>“Butthetracks!”Icried. “Isawwithmyowneyes thattwowentdownthepathandnonereturned.” “It came about in this way. The instant that the Professorhaddisappeareditstruckmewhatareally extraordinarily lucky chance Fate had placed in my way. IknewthatMoriartywasnottheonlymanwho hadswornmydeath. Therewereatleastthreeothers whosedesireforvengeanceuponmewouldonlybe increasedbythedeathoftheirleader. Theywereall most dangerous men. Oneor other would certainly getme. Ontheotherhand,ifalltheworldwascon- vincedthatIwasdeadtheywouldtakeliberties,these men,theywouldlaythemselvesopen,andsooneror later I could destroy them. Then it would be time formetoannouncethatIwasstillinthelandofthe living. So rapidly does the brain act that I believe I had thought this all out before Professor Moriarty hadreachedthebottomoftheReichenbachFall.“Istoodupandexaminedtherockywallbehind me. Inyourpicturesqueaccountofthematter,whichI readwithgreatinterestsomemonthslater,youassert thatthewallwassheer. Thiswasnotliterallytrue. A fewsmallfootholdspresentedthemselves,andthere was some indication of a ledge. The cliff is so high thattoclimbitallwasanobviousimpossibility,andit wasequallyimpossibletomakemywayalongthewet pathwithoutleavingsometracks. Imight,itistrue, have reversed my boots, as I have done on similar occasions,butthesightofthreesetsoftracksinone directionwouldcertainlyhavesuggestedadeception.</s>Onthewhole,then,itwasbestthatIshouldriskthe climb. Itwasnotapleasantbusiness,Watson. Thefall roaredbeneathme. Iamnotafancifulperson,butI give you my word that I seemed to hear Moriarty’s voice screaming at me out of the abyss. A mistake would have been fatal. More than once, as tufts of grasscameoutinmyhandormyfootslippedinthe wet notches of the rock, I thought that I was gone.</s>ButIstruggledupwards,andatlastIreachedaledge several feet deep and covered with soft green moss, whereIcouldlieunseeninthemostperfectcomfort.</s>There I was stretched when you, my dear Watson, andallyourfollowingwereinvestigatinginthemost sympatheticandinefficientmannerthecircumstances ofmydeath.</s>“Atlast,whenyouhadallformedyourinevitable andtotallyerroneousconclusions,youdepartedfor the hotel and I was left alone. I had imagined that I had reached the end of my adventures, but a very unexpected occurrence showed me that there were surprises still in store for me. A huge rock, falling from above, boomed past me, struck the path, and boundedoverintothechasm. ForaninstantIthought that it was an accident; but a moment later, looking up, I saw a man’s head against the darkening sky, andanotherstonestrucktheveryledgeuponwhich Iwasstretched,withinafootofmyhead. Ofcourse, the meaning of this was obvious. Moriarty had not beenalone. Aconfederate—andeventhatoneglance had told me how dangerous a man that confeder- ate was—had kept guard while the Professor had attackedme. Fromadistance,unseenbyme,hehad beenawitnessofhisfriend’sdeathandofmyescape.</s>He had waited, and then, making his way round to the top of the cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed wherehiscomradehadfailed.</s>“I did not take long to think about it, Watson.</s>Again I saw that grim face look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the precursor of another stone. I scrambleddownontothepath. Idon’tthinkIcould have done it in cold blood. It was a hundred times more difficult than getting up. But I had no time to think of the danger, for another stone sang past me as I hung by my hands from the edge of the ledge.</s>HalfwaydownIslipped,butbytheblessingofGod I landed, torn and bleeding, upon the path. I took tomyheels,didtenmilesoverthemountainsinthe darkness,andaweeklaterIfoundmyselfinFlorence withthecertaintythatnooneintheworldknewwhat hadbecomeofme.</s>“Ihadonlyoneconfidant—mybrotherMycroft. I oweyoumanyapologies,mydearWatson,butitwas all-important that it should be thought I was dead, anditisquitecertainthatyouwouldnothavewritten so convincing an account of my unhappy end had you not yourself thought that it was true. Several timesduringthelastthreeyearsIhavetakenupmy pentowritetoyou,butalwaysIfearedlestyouraf- fectionate regard for me should tempt you to some indiscretionwhichwouldbetraymysecret. Forthat reasonIturnedawayfromyouthiseveningwhenyou upsetmybooks,forIwasindangeratthetime,and any show of surprise and emotion upon your part might have drawn attention to my identity and led tothemostdeplorableandirreparableresults. Asto Mycroft, I had to confide in him in order to obtain the money which I needed. The course of events in London did not run so well as I had hoped, for the trialoftheMoriartyganglefttwoofitsmostdanger- ous members, my own most vindictive enemies, at liberty. I travelled for two years in Tibet, therefore, andamusedmyselfbyvisitingLhassaandspending somedayswiththeheadLlama. Youmayhaveread oftheremarkableexplorationsofaNorwegiannamed Sigerson,butIamsurethatitneveroccurredtoyou that you were receiving news of your friend. I then passedthroughPersia,lookedinatMecca,andpaida shortbutinterestingvisittotheKhalifaatKhartoum, theresultsofwhichIhavecommunicatedtotheFor- eignOffice. ReturningtoFranceIspentsomemonths inaresearchintothecoal-tarderivatives,whichIcon- ductedinalaboratoryatMontpelier,intheSouthof France. Havingconcludedthistomysatisfaction,and learningthatonlyoneofmyenemieswasnowleftin London,Iwasabouttoreturnwhenmymovements were hastened by the news of this very remarkable Park Lane Mystery, which not only appealed to me by its own merits, but which seemed to offer some mostpeculiarpersonalopportunities. Icameoverat once to London, called in my own person at Baker Street,threwMrs.Hudsonintoviolenthysterics,and foundthatMycrofthadpreservedmyroomsandmy papersexactlyastheyhadalwaysbeen. Soitwas,mydearWatson,thatattwoo’clockto-dayIfoundmyself in my old arm-chair in my own old room, and only wishingthatIcouldhaveseenmyoldfriendWatson intheotherchairwhichhehassooftenadorned.” SuchwastheremarkablenarrativetowhichIlis- tenedonthatAprilevening—anarrativewhichwould havebeenutterlyincredibletomehaditnotbeencon- firmedbytheactualsightofthetall,sparefigureand thekeen,eagerface,whichIhadneverthoughttosee again. In some manner he had learned of my own sadbereavement,andhissympathywasshowninhis manner rather than in his words. “Work is the best antidotetosorrow,mydearWatson,”saidhe,“andI haveapieceofworkforusbothto-nightwhich,ifwe can bring it to a successful conclusion, will in itself justify a man’s life on this planet.” In vain I begged himtotellmemore. “Youwillhearandseeenough beforemorning,”heanswered. “Wehavethreeyears ofthepasttodiscuss. Letthatsufficeuntilhalf-past nine, when we start upon the notable adventure of theemptyhouse.” It was indeed like old times when, at that hour, I found myself seated beside him in a hansom, my revolverinmypocketandthethrillofadventurein myheart. Holmeswascoldandsternandsilent. As the gleam of the street-lamps flashed upon his aus- terefeaturesIsawthathisbrowsweredrawndown in thought and his thin lips compressed. I knew notwhatwildbeastwewereabouttohuntdownin the dark jungle of criminal London, but I was well assured from the bearing of this master huntsman that the adventure was a most grave one, while the sardonicsmilewhichoccasionallybrokethroughhis asceticgloombodedlittlegoodfortheobjectofour quest.</s>I had imagined that we were bound for Baker Street, but Holmes stopped the cab at the corner of CavendishSquare. Iobservedthatashesteppedout hegaveamostsearchingglancetorightandleft,and ateverysubsequentstreetcornerhetooktheutmost painstoassurethathewasnotfollowed. Ourroute was certainly a singular one. Holmes’s knowledge ofthebywaysofLondonwasextraordinary,andon thisoccasionhepassedrapidly,andwithanassured step,throughanetworkofmewsandstablesthevery existenceofwhichIhadneverknown. Weemergedat lastintoasmallroad,linedwithold,gloomyhouses, whichledusintoManchesterStreet,andsotoBland- ford Street. Here he turned swiftly down a narrow passage, passed through a wooden gate into a de- serted yard, and then opened with a key the back doorofahouse. Weenteredtogetherandheclosedit behindus.</s>The place was pitch-dark, but it was evident to methatitwasanemptyhouse. Ourfeetcreakedand crackledoverthebareplanking,andmyoutstretched handtouchedawallfromwhichthepaperwashang- ing in ribbons. Holmes’s cold, thin fingers closed round my wrist and led me forwards down a long hall, until I dimly saw the murky fanlight over the door. HereHolmesturnedsuddenlytotheright,and we found ourselves in a large, square, empty room, heavilyshadowedinthecorners,butfaintlylitinthe centre from the lights of the street beyond. There was no lamp near and the window was thick with dust,sothatwecouldonlyjustdiscerneachother’s figureswithin. Mycompanionputhishanduponmy shoulderandhislipsclosetomyear.</s>“Doyouknowwhereweare?”hewhispered.</s>“SurelythatisBakerStreet,”Ianswered,staring throughthedimwindow.</s>“Exactly. WeareinCamdenHouse,whichstands oppositetoourownoldquarters.” “Butwhyarewehere?” “Becauseitcommandssoexcellentaviewofthat picturesquepile. MightItroubleyou, mydearWat- son, to draw a little nearer to the window, taking every precaution not to show yourself, and then to look up at our old rooms—the starting-point of so manyofourlittleadventures? Wewillseeifmythree yearsofabsencehaveentirelytakenawaymypower tosurpriseyou.” Icreptforwardandlookedacrossatthefamiliar window. AsmyeyesfelluponitIgaveagaspanda cryofamazement. Theblindwasdownandastrong lightwasburningintheroom. Theshadowofaman whowasseatedinachairwithinwasthrowninhard, black outline upon the luminous screen of the win- dow. There was no mistaking the poise of the head, thesquarenessoftheshoulders,thesharpnessofthe features. The face was turned half-round, and the effectwasthatofoneofthoseblacksilhouetteswhich ourgrandparentslovedtoframe. Itwasaperfectre- productionofHolmes. SoamazedwasIthatIthrew outmyhandtomakesurethatthemanhimselfwas standing beside me. He was quivering with silent laughter.</s>“Well?”saidhe.</s>“Goodheavens!”Icried. “Itismarvellous.” “Itrustthatagedothnotwithernorcustomstale myinfinitevariety,’”saidhe,andIrecognisedinhis voice the joy and pride which the artist takes in his owncreation. “Itreallyisratherlikeme,isitnot?”“Ishouldbepreparedtoswearthatitwasyou.” “The credit of the execution is due to Monsieur OscarMeunier,ofGrenoble,whospentsomedaysin doing the moulding. It is a bust in wax. The rest I arrangedmyselfduringmyvisittoBakerStreetthis afternoon.” “Butwhy?” “Because, my dear Watson, I had the strongest possible reason for wishing certain people to think thatIwastherewhenIwasreallyelsewhere.” “Andyouthoughttheroomswerewatched?” “Iknewthattheywerewatched.” “Bywhom?” “By my old enemies, Watson. By the charming societywhoseleaderliesintheReichenbachFall. You mustrememberthattheyknew,andonlytheyknew, thatIwasstillalive. Soonerorlatertheybelievedthat Ishouldcomebacktomyrooms. Theywatchedthem continuously,andthismorningtheysawmearrive.” “Howdoyouknow?” “Because I recognised their sentinel when I glancedoutofmywindow. Heisaharmlessenough fellow, Parker by name, a garroter by trade, and a remarkable performer upon the Jew’s harp. I cared nothingforhim. ButIcaredagreatdealforthemuch more formidable person who was behind him, the bosomfriendofMoriarty,themanwhodroppedthe rocksoverthecliff,themostcunninganddangerous criminalinLondon. Thatisthemanwhoisafterme to-night, Watson, and that is the man who is quite unawarethatweareafterhim.” Myfriend’splansweregraduallyrevealingthem- selves. Fromthisconvenientretreatthewatcherswere being watched and the trackers tracked. That angu- larshadowupyonderwasthebaitandwewerethe hunters. In silence we stood together in the dark- ness and watched the hurrying figures who passed and repassed in front of us. Holmes was silent and motionless; but I could tell that he was keenly alert, andthathiseyeswerefixedintentlyuponthestream of passers-by. It was a bleak and boisterous night, and the wind whistled shrilly down the long street.</s>Manypeopleweremovingtoandfro,mostofthem muffled in their coats and cravats. Once or twice it seemedtomethatIhadseenthesamefigurebefore, andIespeciallynoticedtwomenwhoappearedtobe shelteringthemselvesfromthewindinthedoorway ofahousesomedistanceupthestreet. Itriedtodraw mycompanion’sattentiontothem,buthegavealittle ejaculationofimpatienceandcontinuedtostareinto the street. More than once he fidgeted with his feet and tapped rapidly with his fingers upon the wall.</s>It was evident to me that he was becoming uneasy andthathisplanswerenotworkingoutaltogetheras hehadhoped. Atlast,asmidnightapproachedand thestreetgraduallycleared,hepacedupanddown theroominuncontrollableagitation. Iwasaboutto makesomeremarktohimwhenIraisedmyeyesto thelightedwindowandagainexperiencedalmostas great a surprise as before. I clutched Holmes’s arm andpointedupwards.</s>“Theshadowhasmoved!”Icried.</s>Itwas,indeed,nolongertheprofile,buttheback, whichwasturnedtowardsus.</s>Threeyearshadcertainlynotsmoothedtheasper- itiesofhistemperorhisimpatiencewithalessactive intelligencethanhisown.</s>“Of course it has moved,” said he. “Am I such afarcicalbungler,Watson,thatIshoulderectanob- vious dummy and expect that some of the sharpest men in Europe would be deceived by it? We have been in this room two hours, and Mrs. Hudson has madesomechangeinthatfigureeighttimes,oronce in every quarter of an hour. She works it from the frontsothathershadowmayneverbeseen. Ah!”He drewinhisbreathwithashrill,excitedintake. Inthe dimlightIsawhisheadthrownforward,hiswhole attituderigidwithattention. Outside,thestreetwas absolutely deserted. Those two men might still be crouchinginthedoorway,butIcouldnolongersee them. Allwasstillanddark,saveonlythatbrilliant yellowscreeninfrontofuswiththeblackfigureout- lined upon its centre. Again in the utter silence I heardthatthin,sibilantnotewhichspokeofintense suppressedexcitement. Aninstantlaterhepulledme back into the blackest corner of the room, and I felt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were quivering. Never had I known my friend more moved, and yet the dark street still stretchedlonelyandmotionlessbeforeus.</s>ButsuddenlyIwasawareofthatwhichhiskeener senses had already distinguished. A low, stealthy sound came to my ears, not from the direction of BakerStreet,butfromthebackoftheveryhousein which we lay concealed. A door opened and shut.</s>Aninstantlaterstepscreptdownthepassage—steps whichweremeanttobesilent,butwhichreverberated harshlythroughtheemptyhouse. Holmescrouched back against the wall and I did the same, my hand closing upon the handle of my revolver. Peering throughthegloom,Isawthevagueoutlineofaman,ashadeblackerthantheblacknessoftheopendoor.</s>He stood for an instant, and then he crept forward, crouching,menacing,intotheroom. Hewaswithin threeyardsofus,thissinisterfigure,andIhadbraced myself to meet his spring, before I realized that he hadnoideaofourpresence. Hepassedclosebeside us, stole over to the window, and very softly and noiselesslyraiseditforhalfafoot. Ashesanktothe levelofthisopeningthelightofthestreet,nolonger dimmed by the dusty glass, fell full upon his face.</s>The man seemed to be beside himself with excite- ment. Histwoeyesshonelikestarsandhisfeatures wereworkingconvulsively. Hewasanelderlyman, with a thin, projecting nose, a high, bald forehead, and a huge grizzled moustache. An opera-hat was pushedtothebackofhishead,andaneveningdress shirt-front gleamed out through his open overcoat.</s>His face was gaunt and swarthy, scored with deep, savagelines. Inhishandhecarriedwhatappearedto beastick,butashelaiditdownupontheflooritgave a metallic clang. Then from the pocket of his over- coathedrewabulkyobject,andhebusiedhimselfin sometaskwhichendedwithaloud,sharpclick,asif a spring or bolt had fallen into its place. Still kneel- inguponthefloorhebentforwardandthrewallhis weightandstrengthuponsomelever,withtheresult thattherecamealong,whirling,grindingnoise,end- ing once more in a powerful click. He straightened himselfthen,andIsawthatwhatheheldinhishand was a sort of gun, with a curiously misshapen butt.</s>He opened it at the breech, put something in, and snappedthebreech-block. Then,crouchingdown,he restedtheendofthebarrelupontheledgeoftheopen window,andIsawhislongmoustachedroopoverthe stockandhiseyegleamasitpeeredalongthesights.</s>Iheardalittlesighofsatisfactionashecuddledthe butt into his shoulder, and saw that amazing target, theblack manon theyellow ground, standingclear at the end of his fore sight. For an instant he was rigid and motionless. Then his finger tightened on the trigger. There was a strange, loud whiz and a long, silvery tinkle of broken glass. At that instant Holmesspranglikeatigerontothemarksman’sback andhurledhimflatuponhisface. Hewasupagain inamoment,andwithconvulsivestrengthheseized Holmes by the throat; but I struck him on the head with the butt of my revolver and he dropped again upon the floor. I fell upon him, and as I held him mycomradeblewashrillcalluponawhistle. There was the clatter of running feet upon the pavement, andtwopolicemeninuniform,withoneplain-clothes detective,rushedthroughthefrontentranceandinto theroom.</s>“Thatyou,Lestrade?”saidHolmes.</s>“Yes,Mr.Holmes. Itookthejobmyself. It’sgood toseeyoubackinLondon,sir.” “I think you want a little unofficial help. Three undetected murders in one year won’t do, Lestrade.</s>ButyouhandledtheMoleseyMysterywithlessthan yourusual—that’stosay,youhandleditfairlywell.” Wehad all risen toour feet, our prisoner breath- ing hard, with a stalwart constable on each side of him. Alreadyafewloiterershadbeguntocollectin thestreet. Holmessteppeduptothewindow,closed it, and dropped the blinds. Lestrade had produced twocandlesandthepolicemenhaduncoveredtheir lanterns. Iwasableatlasttohaveagoodlookatour prisoner.</s>Itwasatremendouslyvirileandyetsinisterface which was turned towards us. With the brow of a philosopheraboveandthejawofasensualistbelow, the man must have started with great capacities for good or for evil. But one could not look upon his cruelblueeyes, withtheirdrooping, cynicallids, or uponthefierce,aggressivenoseandthethreatening, deep-lined brow, without reading Nature’s plainest danger-signals. Hetooknoheedofanyofus,buthis eyeswerefixeduponHolmes’sfacewithanexpres- sion in which hatred and amazement were equally blended. “You fiend!” he kept on muttering. “You clever,cleverfiend!” “Ah, Colonel!” said Holmes, arranging his rum- pledcollar;“‘journeysendinlovers’meetings,’asthe old play says. I don’t think I have had the pleasure of seeing you since you favoured me with those at- tentionsasIlayontheledgeabovetheReichenbach Fall.” TheColonelstillstaredatmyfriendlikeamanin atrance. “Youcunning,cunningfiend!”wasallthat hecouldsay.</s>“I have not introduced you yet,” said Holmes.</s>“This,gentlemen,isColonelSebastianMoran,onceof HerMajesty’sIndianArmy,andthebestheavygame shot that our Eastern Empire has ever produced. I believeIamcorrect,Colonel,insayingthatyourbag oftigersstillremainsunrivalled?” The fierce old man said nothing, but still glared atmycompanion;withhissavageeyesandbristling moustachehewaswonderfullylikeatigerhimself.</s>“I wonder that my very simple stratagem could deceive so old a shikari,” said Holmes. “It must be veryfamiliartoyou. Haveyounottetheredayoung kid under a tree, lain above it with your rifle, and waitedforthebaittobringupyourtiger? Thisemptyhouseismytreeandyouaremytiger. Youhavepos- siblyhadothergunsinreserveincasethereshouldbe severaltigers,orintheunlikelysuppositionofyour ownaimfailingyou. These,”hepointedaround,“are myotherguns. Theparallelisexact.” Colonel Moran sprang forward, with a snarl of rage,buttheconstablesdraggedhimback. Thefury uponhisfacewasterribletolookat.</s>“Iconfessthatyouhadonesmallsurpriseforme,” said Holmes. “I did not anticipate that you would yourselfmakeuseofthisemptyhouseandthisconve- nientfrontwindow. Ihadimaginedyouasoperating from the street, where my friend Lestrade and his merry men were awaiting you. With that exception allhasgoneasIexpected.” ColonelMoranturnedtotheofficialdetective.</s>“Youmayormaynothavejustcauseforarresting me,”saidhe,“butatleasttherecanbenoreasonwhy I should submit to the gibes of this person. If I am in the hands of the law let things be done in a legal way.” “Well, that’s reasonable enough,” said Lestrade.</s>“Nothingfurtheryouhavetosay,Mr.Holmes,before wego?” Holmeshadpickedupthepowerfulair-gunfrom thefloorandwasexaminingitsmechanism.</s>“An admirable and unique weapon,” said he, “noiseless and of tremendous power. I knew Von Herder,theblindGermanmechanic,whoconstructed ittotheorderofthelateProfessorMoriarty. Foryears Ihavebeenawareofitsexistence,thoughIhavenever beforehadtheopportunityofhandlingit. Icommend itveryspeciallytoyourattention,Lestrade,andalso thebulletswhichfitit.” “Youcantrustustolookafterthat,Mr.Holmes,” saidLestrade,asthewholepartymovedtowardsthe door. “Anythingfurthertosay?” “Onlytoaskwhatchargeyouintendtoprefer?” “Whatcharge,sir? Why,ofcourse,theattempted murderofMr.SherlockHolmes.” “Notso,Lestrade. Idonotproposetoappearin the matter at all. To you, and to you only, belongs the credit of the remarkable arrest which you have effected. Yes,Lestrade,Icongratulateyou! Withyour usual happy mixture of cunning and audacity you havegothim.” “Gothim! Gotwhom,Mr.Holmes?” “The man that the whole force has been seeking invain—ColonelSebastianMoran,whoshottheHon- ourableRonaldAdairwithanexpandingbulletfrom anair-gunthroughtheopenwindowofthesecond- floor front of No. 427, Park Lane, upon the 30th of last month. That’s the charge, Lestrade. And now, Watson,ifyoucanendurethedraughtfromabroken window,Ithinkthathalfanhourinmystudyovera cigarmayaffordyousomeprofitableamusement.” Our old chambers had been left unchanged throughthesupervisionofMycroftHolmesandthe immediatecareofMrs.Hudson. AsIenteredIsaw,it istrue,anunwontedtidiness,buttheoldlandmarks wereallintheirplace. Therewerethechemicalcorner andtheacid-stained,deal-toppedtable. Thereupon a shelf was the row of formidable scrap-books and booksofreferencewhichmanyofourfellow-citizens wouldhavebeensogladtoburn. Thediagrams,the violin-case,andthepipe-rack—eventhePersianslip- perwhichcontainedthetobacco—allmetmyeyesas Iglancedroundme. Thereweretwooccupantsofthe room—oneMrs.Hudson,whobeameduponusboth as we entered; the other the strange dummy which had played so important a part in the evening’s ad- ventures. Itwasawax-colouredmodelofmyfriend, so admirably done that it was a perfect facsimile. It stoodonasmallpedestaltablewithanolddressing- gownofHolmes’ssodrapedrounditthattheillusion fromthestreetwasabsolutelyperfect.</s>“Ihopeyoupreservedallprecautions,Mrs.Hud- son?”saidHolmes.</s>“Iwenttoitonmyknees,sir,justasyoutoldme.” “Excellent. You carried the thing out very well.</s>Didyouobservewherethebulletwent?” “Yes, sir. I’m afraid it has spoilt your beautiful bust, for it passed right through the head and flat- teneditselfonthewall. Ipickeditupfromthecarpet.</s>Hereitis!” Holmeshelditouttome. “Asoftrevolverbullet, as you perceive, Watson. There’s genius in that, for whowouldexpecttofindsuchathingfiredfroman air-gun. Allright,Mrs.Hudson,Iammuchobliged for your assistance. And now, Watson, let me see youinyouroldseatoncemore,forthereareseveral pointswhichIshouldliketodiscusswithyou.” Hehadthrownofftheseedyfrock-coat,andnow he was the Holmes of old in the mouse-coloured dressing-gownwhichhetookfromhiseffigy.</s>“Theoldshikari’snerveshavenotlosttheirsteadi- ness nor his eyes their keenness,” said he, with a laugh, as he inspected the shattered forehead of his bust.“Plumbinthemiddleofthebackoftheheadand smackthroughthebrain. HewasthebestshotinIn- dia,andIexpectthattherearefewbetterinLondon.</s>Haveyouheardthename?” “No,Ihavenot.” “Well, well, such is fame! But, then, if I remem- beraright,youhadnotheardthenameofProfessor JamesMoriarty,whohadoneofthegreatbrainsofthe century. Justgivemedownmyindexofbiographies fromtheshelf.” He turned over the pages lazily, leaning back in hischairandblowinggreatcloudsfromhiscigar.</s>“MycollectionofM’sisafineone,”saidhe. “Mo- riartyhimselfisenoughtomakeanyletterillustrious, and here is Morgan the poisoner, and Merridew of abominablememory,andMathews,whoknockedout myleftcanineinthewaiting-roomatCharingCross, and,finally,hereisourfriendofto-night.” Hehandedoverthebook,andIread: Moran, Sebastian, Colonel. Unemployed.</s>Formerly 1st Bengalore Pioneers. Born London,1840. SonofSirAugustusMoran, C.B.,onceBritishMinistertoPersia. Edu- catedEtonandOxford. ServedinJowaki Campaign,AfghanCampaign,Charasiab (despatches),Sherpur,andCabul. Author of Heavy Game of the Western Himalayas, 1881;ThreeMonthsintheJungle,1884. Ad- dress: ConduitStreet. Clubs: TheAnglo- Indian,theTankerville,theBagatelleCard Club.</s>On the margin was written, in Holmes’s precise hand: ThesecondmostdangerousmaninLondon.</s>“Thisisastonishing,”saidI,asIhandedbackthe volume. “Theman’scareeristhatofanhonourable soldier.” “It is true,” Holmes answered. “Up to a certain pointhedidwell. Hewasalwaysamanofironnerve, and the story is still told in India how he crawled downadrainafterawoundedman-eatingtiger. There aresometrees,Watson,whichgrowtoacertainheight andthensuddenlydevelopsomeunsightlyeccentric- ity. You will see it often in humans. I have a theory thattheindividualrepresentsinhisdevelopmentthe whole procession of his ancestors, and that such a sudden turn to good or evil stands for some strong influence which came into the line of his pedigree.</s>The person becomes, as it were, the epitome of the historyofhisownfamily.” “Itissurelyratherfanciful.” “Well,Idon’tinsistuponit. Whateverthecause, ColonelMoranbegantogowrong. Withoutanyopen scandal he still made India too hot to hold him. He retired,cametoLondon,andagainacquiredanevil name. It was at this time that he was sought out by ProfessorMoriarty,towhomforatimehewaschiefof thestaff. Moriartysuppliedhimliberallywithmoney andusedhimonlyinoneortwoveryhigh-classjobs which no ordinary criminal could have undertaken.</s>YoumayhavesomerecollectionofthedeathofMrs.</s>Stewart, of Lauder, in 1887. Not? Well, I am sure Moran was at the bottom of it; but nothing could be proved. So cleverly was the Colonel concealed that even when the Moriarty gang was broken up wecouldnotincriminatehim. Yourememberatthat date, when I called upon you in your rooms, how I putuptheshuttersforfearofair-guns? Nodoubtyou thoughtmefanciful. IknewexactlywhatIwasdoing, for I knew of the existence of this remarkable gun, andIknewalsothatoneofthebestshotsintheworld would be behind it. When we were in Switzerland he followed us with Moriarty, and it was undoubt- edly he who gave me that evil five minutes on the Reichenbachledge.</s>“YoumaythinkthatIreadthepaperswithsome attention during my sojourn in France, on the look- outforanychanceoflayinghimbytheheels. Solong as he was free in London my life would really not have been worth living. Night and day the shadow would have been over me, and sooner or later his chancemusthavecome. WhatcouldIdo? Icouldnot shoothimatsight,orIshouldmyselfbeinthedock.</s>Therewasnouseappealingtoamagistrate. Theycan- not interfere on the strength of what would appear to them to be a wild suspicion. So I could do noth- ing. ButIwatchedthecriminalnews,knowingthat soonerorlaterIshouldgethim. Thencamethedeath of this Ronald Adair. My chance had come at last! KnowingwhatIdid,wasitnotcertainthatColonel Moran had done it? He had played cards with the lad;hehadfollowedhimhomefromtheclub;hehad shothimthroughtheopenwindow. Therewasnota doubt of it. The bullets alone are enough to put his head in a noose. I came over at once. I was seen by thesentinel,whowould,Iknew,directtheColonel’s attentiontomypresence. Hecouldnotfailtoconnect my sudden return with his crime and to be terribly alarmed. Iwassurethathewouldmakeanattempt to get me out of the way at once, and would bringroundhismurderousweaponforthatpurpose. Ileft him an excellent mark in the window, and, having warnedthepolicethattheymightbeneeded—bythe way,Watson,youspottedtheirpresenceinthatdoor- waywithunerringaccuracy—Itookupwhatseemed to me to be a judicious post for observation, never dreamingthathewouldchoosethesamespotforhis attack. Now,mydearWatson,doesanythingremain formetoexplain?” “Yes,” said I. “You have not made it clear what wasColonelMoran’smotiveinmurderingtheHon- ourableRonaldAdair.” “Ah! mydear Watson, therewe comeinto those realms of conjecture where the most logical mind maybeatfault. Eachmayformhisownhypothesis upon the present evidence, and yours is as likely to becorrectasmine.” “Youhaveformedone,then?” “Ithinkthatitisnotdifficulttoexplainthefacts. It cameoutinevidencethatColonelMoranandyoung Adairhadbetweenthemwonaconsiderableamount ofmoney. Now,Moranundoubtedlyplayedfoul—of thatIhavelongbeenaware. Ibelievethatontheday ofthemurderAdairhaddiscoveredthatMoranwas cheating. Verylikelyhehadspokentohimprivately, andhadthreatenedtoexposehimunlesshevoluntar- ilyresignedhismembershipoftheclubandpromised nottoplaycardsagain. Itisunlikelythatayoungster likeAdairwouldatoncemakeahideousscandalby exposingawell-knownmansomucholderthanhim- self. Probably he acted as I suggest. The exclusion fromhisclubswouldmeanruintoMoran,wholived by his ill-gotten card gains. He therefore murdered Adair,whoatthetimewasendeavouringtoworkout howmuchmoneyheshouldhimselfreturn,sincehe couldnotprofitbyhispartner’sfoulplay. Helocked thedoorlesttheladiesshouldsurprisehimandinsist uponknowingwhathewasdoingwiththesenames andcoins. Willitpass?” “Ihavenodoubtthatyouhavehituponthetruth.” “Itwillbeverifiedordisprovedatthetrial. Mean- while, come what may, Colonel Moran will trouble us no more, the famous air-gun of Von Herder will embellishtheScotlandYardMuseum,andonceagain Mr. Sherlock Holmes is free to devote his life to ex- amining those interesting little problems which the complexlifeofLondonsoplentifullypresents.”rom the point of view of the criminal ex- pert,”saidMr.SherlockHolmes,“London hasbecomeasingularlyuninterestingcity F sincethedeathofthelatelamentedProfes- sorMoriarty.” “I can hardly think that you would find many decentcitizenstoagreewithyou,”Ianswered.</s>“Well,well,Imustnotbeselfish,”saidhe,witha smile,ashepushedbackhischairfromthebreakfast- table. “The community is certainly the gainer, and noonetheloser,savethepoorout-of-workspecialist, whose occupation has gone. With that man in the fieldone’smorningpaperpresentedinfinitepossibili- ties. Oftenitwasonlythesmallesttrace,Watson,the faintest indication, and yet it was enough to tell me thatthegreatmalignantbrainwasthere,asthegen- tlest tremors of the edges of the web remind one of thefoulspiderwhichlurksinthecentre. Pettythefts, wanton assaults, purposeless outrage—to the man whoheldtheclueallcouldbeworkedintoonecon- nectedwhole. Tothescientificstudentofthehigher criminal world no capital in Europe offered the ad- vantageswhichLondonthenpossessed. Butnow—” Heshruggedhisshouldersinhumorousdeprecation of the state of things which he had himself done so muchtoproduce.</s>At the time of which I speak Holmes had been backforsomemonths,andI,athisrequest,hadsold my practice and returned to share the old quarters inBakerStreet. Ayoungdoctor,namedVerner,had purchasedmysmallKensingtonpractice,andgiven withastonishinglylittledemurthehighestpricethat Iventuredtoask—anincidentwhichonlyexplained itselfsomeyearslaterwhenIfoundthatVernerwasa distantrelationofHolmes’s,andthatitwasmyfriend whohadreallyfoundthemoney.</s>Our months of partnership had not been so un- eventfulashehadstated,forIfind,onlookingover my notes, that this period includes the case of the papers of Ex-President Murillo, and also the shock- ingaffairoftheDutchsteamshipFriesland,whichso nearly cost us both our lives. His cold and proud naturewasalwaysaverse,however,toanythinginthe shape of public applause, and he bound me in the moststringenttermstosaynofurtherwordofhimself, his methods, or his successes—a prohibition which, asIhaveexplained,hasonlynowbeenremoved.</s>Mr.SherlockHolmeswasleaningbackinhischair after his whimsical protest, and was unfolding his morning paper in a leisurely fashion, when our at- tentionwasarrestedbyatremendousringatthebell, followedimmediatelybyahollowdrummingsound, as if someone were beating on the outer door with hisfist. Asitopenedtherecameatumultuousrush into the hall, rapid feet clattered up the stair, and an instant later a wild-eyed and frantic young man, pale,dishevelled,andpalpitating,burstintotheroom.</s>He looked from one to the other of us, and under our gaze of inquiry he became conscious that some apologywasneededforthisunceremoniousentry.</s>“I’m sorry, Mr. Holmes,” he cried. “You mustn’t blame me. I am nearly mad. Mr. Holmes, I am the unhappyJohnHectorMcFarlane.” Hemadetheannouncementasifthenamealone would explain both his visit and its manner; but I couldseebymycompanion’sunresponsivefacethat itmeantnomoretohimthantome.</s>“Haveacigarette,Mr.McFarlane,”saidhe,push- inghiscaseacross. “Iamsurethatwithyoursymp- toms my friend Dr. Watson here would prescribe a sedative. The weather has been so very warm these last few days. Now, if you feel a little more com- posed, I should be glad if you would sit down in that chair and tell us very slowly and quietly who youareandwhatitisthatyouwant. Youmentioned yournameasifIshouldrecogniseit,butIassureyou that,beyondtheobviousfactsthatyouareabachelor, a solicitor, a Freemason, and an asthmatic, I know nothingwhateveraboutyou.” Familiar as I was with my friend’s methods, it wasnotdifficultformetofollowhisdeductions,and toobservetheuntidinessofattire,thesheafoflegal papers, the watch-charm, and the breathing which had prompted them. Our client, however, stared in amazement.</s>“Yes, I am all that, Mr. Holmes, and in addition I am the most unfortunate man at this moment in London. For Heaven’s sake don’t abandon me, Mr.</s>Holmes! If they come to arrest me before I have fin- ishedmystory,makethemgivemetimesothatImay tellyouthewholetruth. IcouldgotojailhappyifI knewthatyouwereworkingformeoutside.” “Arrest you!” said Holmes. “This is really most grati—most interesting. On what charge do you ex- pecttobearrested?” “UponthechargeofmurderingMr.JonasOldacre, ofLowerNorwood.” My companion’s expressive face showed a sym- pathywhichwasnot, Iamafraid, entirelyunmixed withsatisfaction.</s>“Dear me,” said he; “it was only this moment at breakfastthatIwassayingtomyfriend,Dr.Watson,that sensational cases had disappeared out of our papers.” Our visitor stretched forward a quivering hand andpickeduptheDailyTelegraph,whichstilllayupon Holmes’sknee.</s>“Ifyouhadlookedatit,sir,youwouldhaveseen ataglancewhattheerrandisonwhichIhavecome toyouthismorning. Ifeelasifmynameandmymis- fortunemustbeineveryman’smouth.”Heturnedit overtoexposethecentralpage. “Hereitis,andwith your permission I will read it to you. Listen to this, Mr. Holmes. The head-lines are: ‘Mysterious Affair atLowerNorwood. DisappearanceofaWell-known Builder. Suspicion of Murder and Arson. A Clue to theCriminal.’ Thatisthecluewhichtheyarealready following,Mr.Holmes,andIknowthatitleadsinfal- liblytome. IhavebeenfollowedfromLondonBridge Station,andIamsurethattheyareonlywaitingfor the warrant to arrest me. It will break my mother’s heart—itwillbreakherheart!”Hewrunghishands inanagonyofapprehension,andswayedbackwards andforwardsinhischair.</s>Ilookedwithinterestuponthisman,whowasac- cusedofbeingtheperpetratorofacrimeofviolence.</s>He was flaxen-haired and handsome in a washed- out negative fashion, with frightened blue eyes and a clean-shaven face, with a weak, sensitive mouth.</s>Hisagemayhavebeenabouttwenty-seven;hisdress andbearingthatofagentleman. Fromthepocketof his light summer overcoat protruded the bundle of endorsedpaperswhichproclaimedhisprofession.</s>“Wemustusewhattimewehave,”saidHolmes.</s>“Watson, would you have the kindness to take the paperandtoreadmetheparagraphinquestion?” Underneath the vigorous head-lines which our clienthadquotedIreadthefollowingsuggestivenar- rative:— “Late last night, or early this morning, an incident occurred at Lower Norwood which points, it is feared, to a serious crime. Mr.</s>JonasOldacreisawell-knownresidentofthat suburb, where he has carried on his business as a builder for many years. Mr. Oldacre is a bachelor, fifty-two years of age, and lives in Deep Dene House, at the Sydenham end of the road of that name. He has had the repu- tation of being a man of eccentric habits, se- cretive and retiring. For some years he has practically withdrawn from the business, in whichheissaidtohaveamassedconsiderable wealth. Asmalltimber-yardstillexists,how- ever, at the back of the house, and last night, abouttwelveo’clock,analarmwasgiventhat one of the stacks was on fire. The engines were soon upon the spot, but the dry wood burnedwithgreatfury,anditwasimpossible to arrest the conflagration until the stack had been entirely consumed. Up to this point the incident bore the appearance of an ordinary accident, but fresh indications seem to point to serious crime. Surprise was expressed at theabsenceofthemasteroftheestablishment from the scene of the fire, and an inquiry fol- lowed, which showed that he had disappeared from the house. An examination of his room revealed that the bed had not been slept in, that a safe which stood in it was open, that a number of important papers were scattered about the room, and, finally, that there were signs of a murderous struggle, slight traces of blood being found within the room, and an oakenwalking-stick,whichalsoshowedstains of blood upon the handle. It is known that Mr. Jonas Oldacre had received a late visitor in his bedroom upon that night, and the stick found has been identified as the property of this person, who is a young London solicitor namedJohnHectorMcFarlane,juniorpartner of Graham and McFarlane, of 426, Gresham Buildings, E.C. The police believe that they have evidence in their possession which sup- plies a very convincing motive for the crime, and altogether it cannot be doubted that sen- sationaldevelopmentswillfollow.</s>“Later.—It is rumoured as we go to press that Mr. John Hector McFarlane has actu- ally been arrested on the charge of the mur- der of Mr. Jonas Oldacre. It is at least cer- tain that a warrant has been issued. There have been further and sinister developments in the investigation at Norwood. Besides the signs of a struggle in the room of the un- fortunate builder it is now known that the French windows of his bedroom (which is on the ground floor) were found to be open, that there were marks as if some bulky object had been dragged across to the wood-pile, and, fi- nally,itisassertedthatcharredremainshave been found among the charcoal ashes of the fire. The police theory is that a most sensa- tionalcrimehasbeencommitted,thatthevic- timwasclubbedtodeathinhisownbedroom, his papers rifled, and his dead body dragged across to the wood-stack, which was then ig- nited so as to hide all traces of the crime.Theconductofthecriminalinvestigationhas beenleftintheexperiencedhandsofInspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, who is following up the clues with his accustomed energy and sagacity.” SherlockHolmeslistenedwithclosedeyesandfinger- tipstogethertothisremarkableaccount.</s>“The case has certainly some points of interest,” saidhe,inhislanguidfashion. “MayIask,inthefirst place, Mr. McFarlane, how it is that you are still at liberty,sincethereappearstobeenoughevidenceto justifyyourarrest?” “IliveatTorringtonLodge,Blackheath,withmy parents,Mr.Holmes;butlastnight,havingtodobusi- nessverylatewithMr.JonasOldacre,Istayedatan hotel in Norwood, and came to my business from there. IknewnothingofthisaffairuntilIwasinthe train,whenIreadwhatyouhavejustheard. Iatonce sawthehorribledangerofmyposition,andIhurried toputthecaseintoyourhands. Ihavenodoubtthat I should have been arrested either at my City office or at my home. A man followed me from London BridgeStation,andIhavenodoubt—GreatHeaven, whatisthat?” It was a clang of the bell, followed instantly by heavy steps upon the stair. A moment later our old friend Lestrade appeared in the doorway. Over his shoulderIcaughtaglimpseofoneortwouniformed policemenoutside.</s>“Mr.JohnHectorMcFarlane?”saidLestrade.</s>Ourunfortunateclientrosewithaghastlyface.</s>“I arrest you for the wilful murder of Mr. Jonas Oldacre,ofLowerNorwood.” McFarlaneturnedtouswithagestureofdespair, and sank into his chair once more like one who is crushed.</s>“Onemoment,Lestrade,”saidHolmes. “Halfan hourmoreorlesscanmakenodifferencetoyou,and thegentlemanwasabouttogiveusanaccountofthis veryinterestingaffair,whichmightaidusinclearing itup.” “I think there will be no difficulty in clearing it up,”saidLestrade,grimly.</s>“Nonetheless,withyourpermission,Ishouldbe muchinterestedtohearhisaccount.” “Well,Mr.Holmes,itisdifficultformetorefuse you anything, for you have been of use to the force onceortwiceinthepast,andweoweyouagoodturn atScotlandYard,”saidLestrade. “Atthesametime Imustremainwithmyprisoner,andIamboundto warn him that anything he may say will appear in evidenceagainsthim.” “Iwishnothingbetter,”saidourclient. “AllIask is that you should hear and recognise the absolute truth.” Lestrade looked at his watch. “I’ll give you half anhour,”saidhe.</s>“Imustexplainfirst,”saidMcFarlane,“thatIknew nothing of Mr. Jonas Oldacre. His name was famil- iar to me, for many years ago my parents were ac- quaintedwithhim,buttheydriftedapart. Iwasvery much surprised, therefore, when yesterday, about three o’clock in the afternoon, he walked into my office in the City. But I was still more astonished when he told me the object of his visit. He had in hishandseveralsheetsofanote-book,coveredwith scribbledwriting—heretheyare—andhelaidthem onmytable.</s>“‘Here is my will,’ said he. ‘I want you, Mr. Mc- Farlane, to cast it into proper legal shape. I will sit herewhileyoudoso.’ “Isetmyselftocopyit,andyoucanimaginemy astonishmentwhenIfoundthat,withsomereserva- tions, he had left all his property to me. He was a strange little, ferret-like man, with white eyelashes, and when I looked up at him I found his keen grey eyes fixed upon me with an amused expression. I could hardly believe my own senses as I read the terms of the will; but he explained that he was a bachelorwithhardlyanylivingrelation,thathehad known my parents in his youth, and that he had al- ways heard of me as a very deserving young man, and was assured that his money would be in wor- thy hands. Of course, I could only stammer out my thanks. Thewillwasdulyfinished,signed,andwit- nessedbymyclerk. Thisisitonthebluepaper,and these slips, as I have explained, are the rough draft.</s>Mr.JonasOldacretheninformedmethattherewere anumberofdocuments—buildingleases,title-deeds, mortgages, scrip, and so forth—which it was neces- sarythatIshouldseeandunderstand. Hesaidthat hismindwouldnotbeeasyuntilthewholethingwas settled,andhebeggedmetocomeouttohishouseat Norwoodthatnight,bringingthewillwithme,and toarrangematters. ‘Remember,myboy,notoneword to your parents about the affair until everything is settled. We will keep it as a little surprise for them.’ Hewasveryinsistentuponthispoint,andmademe promiseitfaithfully.</s>“Youcanimagine,Mr.Holmes,thatIwasnotin ahumourtorefusehimanythingthathemightask.</s>Hewasmybenefactor,andallmydesirewastocarryout his wishes in every particular. I sent a telegram home,therefore,tosaythatIhadimportantbusiness on hand, and that it was impossible for me to say howlateImightbe. Mr.Oldacrehadtoldmethathe would like me to have supper with him at nine, as he might not be home before that hour. I had some difficulty in finding his house, however, and it was nearlyhalf-pastbeforeIreachedit. Ifoundhim—” “One moment!” said Holmes. “Who opened the door?” “Amiddle-agedwoman,whowas,Isuppose,his housekeeper.” “Anditwasshe,Ipresume,whomentionedyour name?” “Exactly,”saidMcFarlane.</s>“Prayproceed.” McFarlanewipedhisdampbrowandthencontin- uedhisnarrative:— “Iwasshownbythiswomanintoasitting-room, where a frugal supper was laid out. Afterwards Mr.</s>JonasOldacreledmeintohisbedroom,inwhichthere stood a heavy safe. This he opened and took out a massofdocuments,whichwewentovertogether. It wasbetweenelevenandtwelvewhenwefinished. He remarkedthatwemustnotdisturbthehousekeeper.</s>HeshowedmeoutthroughhisownFrenchwindow, whichhadbeenopenallthistime.” “Wastheblinddown?”askedHolmes.</s>“I will not be sure, but I believe that it was only half down. Yes, I remember how he pulled it up in ordertoswingopenthewindow. Icouldnotfindmy stick, and he said, ‘Never mind, my boy; I shall see agooddealofyounow,Ihope,andIwillkeepyour stickuntilyoucomebacktoclaimit.’ Ilefthimthere, the safe open, and the papers made up in packets upon the table. It was so late that I could not get backtoBlackheath,soIspentthenightattheAnerley Arms, and I knew nothing more until I read of this horribleaffairinthemorning.” “Anything more that you would like to ask, Mr.</s>Holmes?” said Lestrade, whose eyebrows had gone uponceortwiceduringthisremarkableexplanation.</s>“NotuntilIhavebeentoBlackheath.” “YoumeantoNorwood,”saidLestrade.</s>“Oh, yes; no doubt that is what I must have meant,” said Holmes, with his enigmatical smile.</s>Lestrade had learned by more experiences than he wouldcaretoacknowledgethatthatrazor-likebrain could cut through that which was impenetrable to him. Isawhimlookcuriouslyatmycompanion.</s>“I think I should like to have a word with you presently,Mr.SherlockHolmes,”saidhe. “Now,Mr.</s>McFarlane,twoofmyconstablesareatthedoorand thereisafour-wheelerwaiting.”Thewretchedyoung man arose, and with a last beseeching glance at us walkedfromtheroom. Theofficersconductedhimto thecab,butLestraderemained.</s>Holmes had picked up the pages which formed theroughdraftofthewill,andwaslookingatthem withthekeenestinterestuponhisface.</s>“There are some points about that document, Lestrade,aretherenot?”saidhe,pushingthemover.</s>Theofficiallookedatthemwithapuzzledexpres- sion.</s>“I can read the first few lines, and these in the middleofthesecondpage,andoneortwoattheend.</s>Thoseareasclearasprint,”saidhe;“butthewriting in between is very bad, and there are three places whereIcannotreaditatall.” “Whatdoyoumakeofthat?”saidHolmes.</s>“Well,whatdoyoumakeofit?” “That it was written in a train; the good writing represents stations, the bad writing movement, and theverybadwritingpassingoverpoints. Ascientific expertwouldpronounceatoncethatthiswasdrawn up on a suburban line, since nowhere save in the immediate vicinity of a great city could there be so quickasuccessionofpoints. Grantingthathiswhole journey was occupied in drawing up the will, then thetrainwasanexpress,onlystoppingoncebetween NorwoodandLondonBridge.” Lestradebegantolaugh.</s>“Youaretoomanyformewhenyoubegintoget onyourtheories,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe. “Howdoes thisbearonthecase?” “Well,itcorroboratestheyoungman’sstorytothe extent that the will was drawn up by Jonas Oldacre inhisjourneyyesterday. Itiscurious—isitnot?—that a man should draw up so important a document in so haphazard a fashion. It suggests that he did not thinkitwasgoingtobeofmuchpracticalimportance.</s>Ifamandrewupawillwhichhedidnotintendever tobeeffectivehemightdoitso.” “Well, he drew up his own death-warrant at the sametime,”saidLestrade.</s>“Oh,youthinkso?” “Don’tyou?” “Well,itisquitepossible;butthecaseisnotclear tomeyet.”“Notclear? Well,ifthatisn’tclear,whatcouldbe clear? Hereisayoungmanwholearnssuddenlythat ifacertainoldermandieshewillsucceedtoafortune.</s>What does he do? He says nothing to anyone, but he arranges that he shall go out on some pretext to seehisclientthatnight;hewaitsuntiltheonlyother personinthehouseisinbed,andtheninthesolitude ofaman’sroomhemurdershim,burnshisbodyin the wood-pile, and departs to a neighbouring hotel.</s>Theblood-stainsintheroomandalsoonthestickare veryslight. Itisprobablethatheimaginedhiscrime tobeabloodlessone,andhopedthatifthebodywere consumed it would hide all traces of the method of his death—traces which for some reason must have pointedtohim. Isallthisnotobvious?” “Itstrikesme,mygoodLestrade,asbeingjusta trifle too obvious,” said Holmes. “You do not add imaginationtoyourothergreatqualities; butifyou couldforonemomentputyourselfintheplaceofthis youngman,wouldyouchoosetheverynightafterthe will had been made to commit your crime? Would it not seem dangerous to you to make so very close arelationbetweenthetwoincidents? Again,would youchooseanoccasionwhenyouareknowntobein thehouse,whenaservanthasletyouin? And,finally, would you take the great pains to conceal the body andyetleaveyourownstickasasignthatyouwere the criminal? Confess, Lestrade, that all this is very unlikely.” “Astothestick,Mr.Holmes,youknowaswellas Idothatacriminalisoftenflurriedanddoesthings which a cool man would avoid. He was very likely afraidtogobacktotheroom. Givemeanothertheory thatwouldfitthefacts.” “Icouldveryeasilygiveyouhalf-a-dozen,”said Holmes. “Here, for example, is a very possible and even probable one. I make you a free present of it.</s>The older man is showing documents which are of evident value. A passing tramp sees them through the window, the blind of which is only half down.</s>Exitthesolicitor. Enterthetramp! Heseizesastick, which he observes there, kills Oldacre, and departs afterburningthebody.” “Whyshouldthetrampburnthebody?” “ForthematterofthatwhyshouldMcFarlane?” “Tohidesomeevidence.” “Possiblythetrampwantedtohidethatanymur- deratallhadbeencommitted.” “Andwhydidthetramptakenothing?” “Because they were papers that he could not ne- gotiate.” Lestradeshookhishead,thoughitseemedtome thathismannerwaslessabsolutelyassuredthanbe- fore.</s>“Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you may look for your tramp, and while you are finding him we will hold on to our man. The future will show which is right. Justnoticethispoint,Mr.Holmes: thatsofaras weknownoneofthepaperswereremoved,andthat theprisoneristheonemanintheworldwhohadno reason for removing them, since he was heir-at-law andwouldcomeintotheminanycase.” Myfriendseemedstruckbythisremark.</s>“Idon’tmeantodenythattheevidenceisinsome waysverystronglyinfavourofyourtheory,”saidhe.</s>“Ionlywishtopointoutthatthereareothertheories possible. As you say, the future will decide. Good morning! I dare say that in the course of the day I shalldropinatNorwoodandseehowyouaregetting on.” Whenthedetectivedepartedmyfriendroseand made his preparations for the day’s work with the alert air of a man who has a congenial task before him.</s>“Myfirstmovement,Watson,”saidhe,ashebus- tled into his frock-coat, “must, as I said, be in the directionofBlackheath.” “AndwhynotNorwood?” “Because we have in this case one singular inci- dent coming close to the heels of another singular incident. The police are making the mistake of con- centratingtheirattentionuponthesecond,becauseit happenstobetheonewhichisactuallycriminal. But itisevidenttomethatthelogicalwaytoapproachthe case is to begin by trying to throw some light upon thefirstincident—thecuriouswill,sosuddenlymade, andtosounexpectedanheir. Itmaydosomethingto simplifywhatfollowed. No,mydearfellow,Idon’t thinkyoucanhelpme. Thereisnoprospectofdanger, orIshouldnotdreamofstirringoutwithoutyou. I trustthatwhenIseeyouintheeveningIwillbeable to report that I have been able to do something for thisunfortunateyoungsterwhohasthrownhimself uponmyprotection.” Itwaslatewhenmyfriendreturned,andIcould seebyaglanceathishaggardandanxiousfacethat the high hopes with which he had started had not beenfulfilled. Foranhourhedronedawayuponhis violin,endeavouringtosoothehisownruffledspirits.</s>At last he flung down the instrument and plunged intoadetailedaccountofhismisadventures.“It’sallgoingwrong,Watson—allaswrongasit cango. IkeptaboldfacebeforeLestrade,but,upon my soul, I believe that for once the fellow is on the righttrackandweareonthewrong. Allmyinstincts areonewayandallthefactsaretheother,andImuch fearthatBritishjurieshavenotyetattainedthatpitch ofintelligencewhentheywillgivethepreferenceto mytheoriesoverLestrade’sfacts.” “DidyougotoBlackheath?” “Yes, Watson, I went there, and I found very quickly that the late lamented Oldacre was a pretty considerable black-guard. The father was away in searchofhisson. Themotherwasathome—alittle, fluffy, blue-eyed person, in a tremor of fear and in- dignation. Ofcourse,shewouldnotadmiteventhe possibility of his guilt. But she would not express eithersurpriseorregretoverthefateofOldacre. On the contrary, she spoke of him with such bitterness thatshewasunconsciouslyconsiderablystrengthen- ingthecaseofthepolice,for,ofcourse,ifhersonhad heard her speak of the man in this fashion it would predisposehimtowardshatredandviolence. ‘Hewas morelikeamalignantandcunningapethanahuman being,’ said she, ‘and he always was, ever since he wasayoungman.’ “‘Youknewhimatthattime?’ saidI.</s>“‘Yes, I knew him well; in fact, he was an old suitorofmine. ThankHeaventhatIhadthesenseto turnawayfromhimandtomarryabetter,ifapoorer, man. I was engaged to him, Mr. Holmes, when I heard a shocking story of how he had turned a cat looseinanaviary,andIwassohorrifiedathisbrutal cruelty that I would have nothing more to do with him.’ Sherummagedinabureau,andpresentlyshe producedaphotographofawoman,shamefullyde- faced and mutilated with a knife. ‘That is my own photograph,’shesaid. ‘Hesentittomeinthatstate, withhiscurse,uponmyweddingmorning.’ “‘Well,’ saidI,‘atleasthehasforgivenyounow, sincehehasleftallhispropertytoyourson.’ “‘NeithermysonnorIwantanythingfromJonas Oldacre,deadoralive,’shecried,withaproperspirit.</s>‘ThereisaGodinHeaven,Mr.Holmes,andthatsame Godwhohaspunishedthatwickedmanwillshowin Hisowngoodtimethatmyson’shandsareguiltless ofhisblood.’ “Well, I tried one or two leads, but could get at nothing which would help our hypothesis, and sev- eralpointswhichwouldmakeagainstit. Igaveitup atlastandoffIwenttoNorwood.</s>“This place, Deep Dene House, is a big mod- ern villa of staring brick, standing back in its own grounds, with a laurel-clumped lawn in front of it.</s>To the right and some distance back from the road wasthetimber-yardwhichhadbeenthesceneofthe fire. Here’s a rough plan on a leaf of my note-book.</s>Thiswindowontheleftistheonewhichopensinto Oldacre’s room. You can look into it from the road, you see. That is about the only bit of consolation I have had to-day. Lestrade was not there, but his headconstabledidthehonours. Theyhadjustmade a great treasure-trove. They had spent the morning rakingamongtheashesoftheburnedwood-pile,and besidesthecharredorganicremainstheyhadsecured several discoloured metal discs. I examined them with care, and there was no doubt that they were trouserbuttons. Ievendistinguishedthatoneofthem was marked with the name of ‘Hyams,’ who was Oldacre’s tailor. I then worked the lawn very care- fullyforsignsandtraces,butthisdroughthasmade everything as hard as iron. Nothing was to be seen save that some body or bundle had been dragged throughalowprivethedgewhichisinalinewiththe wood-pile. Allthat,ofcourse,fitsinwiththeofficial theory. IcrawledaboutthelawnwithanAugustsun on my back, but I got up at the end of an hour no wiserthanbefore.</s>“Well, after this fiasco I went into the bedroom andexaminedthatalso. Theblood-stainswerevery slight,meresmearsanddiscolorations,butundoubt- edlyfresh. Thestickhadbeenremoved,buttherealso the marks were slight. There is no doubt about the stickbelongingtoourclient. Headmitsit. Footmarks of both men could be made out on the carpet, but none of any third person, which again is a trick for theotherside. Theywerepilinguptheirscoreallthe timeandwewereatastandstill.</s>“OnlyonelittlegleamofhopedidIget—andyet it amounted to nothing. I examined the contents of thesafe,mostofwhichhadbeentakenoutandlefton thetable. Thepapershadbeenmadeupintosealed envelopes,oneortwoofwhichhadbeenopenedby the police. They were not, so far as I could judge, ofanygreatvalue,nordidthebank-bookshowthat Mr.Oldacrewasinsuchveryaffluentcircumstances.</s>But it seemed to me that all the papers were not there. Therewereallusionstosomedeeds—possibly the more valuable—which I could not find. This, of course, if we could definitely prove it, would turn Lestrade’sargumentagainsthimself,forwhowould stealathingifheknewthathewouldshortlyinherit it?“Finally, having drawn every other cover and picked up no scent, I tried my luck with the house- keeper. Mrs. Lexington is her name, a little, dark, silentperson,withsuspiciousandsidelongeyes. She couldtellussomethingifshewould—Iamconvinced ofit. Butshewasascloseaswax. Yes,shehadletMr.</s>McFarlaneinathalf-pastnine. Shewishedherhand hadwitheredbeforeshehaddoneso. Shehadgone to bed at half-past ten. Her room was at the other endofthehouse,andshecouldhearnothingofwhat passed. Mr. McFarlane had left his hat, and to the bestofherbeliefhisstick, inthehall. Shehadbeen awakenedbythealarmoffire. Herpoor,dearmaster hadcertainlybeenmurdered. Hadheanyenemies? Well, every man had enemies, but Mr. Oldacre kept himself very much to himself, and only met people inthewayofbusiness. Shehadseenthebuttons,and wassurethattheybelongedtotheclotheswhichhe hadwornlastnight. Thewood-pilewasverydry,for it had not rained for a month. It burned like tinder, andbythetimeshe reachedthespotnothing could be seen but flames. She and all the firemen smelled theburnedfleshfrominsideit. Sheknewnothingof thepapers,norofMr.Oldacre’sprivateaffairs.</s>“So,mydearWatson,there’smyreportofafailure.</s>Andyet—andyet—”—heclenchedhisthinhandsin a paroxysm of conviction—“I know it’s all wrong. I feelit inmy bones. Thereissomething thathas not comeout,andthathousekeeperknowsit. Therewas asortofsulkydefianceinhereyes,whichonlygoes with guilty knowledge. However, there’s no good talking any more about it, Watson; but unless some luckychancecomesourwayIfearthattheNorwood DisappearanceCasewillnotfigureinthatchronicle ofoursuccesseswhichIforeseethatapatientpublic willsoonerorlaterhavetoendure.” “Surely,”saidI,“theman’sappearancewouldgo farwithanyjury?” “Thatisadangerousargument,mydearWatson.</s>You remember that terrible murderer, Bert Stevens, whowantedustogethimoffin’87? Wasthereever amoremild-mannered,Sunday-schoolyoungman?” “Itistrue.” “Unlesswesucceedinestablishinganalternative theory this man is lost. You can hardly find a flaw inthecasewhichcannowbepresentedagainsthim, andallfurtherinvestigationhasservedtostrengthen it. Bytheway,thereisonecuriouslittlepointabout thosepaperswhichmayserveusasthestarting-point foraninquiry. Onlookingoverthebank-bookIfound thatthelowstateofthebalancewasprincipallydue to large cheques which have been made out during thelastyeartoMr.Cornelius. IconfessthatIshould be interested to know who this Mr. Cornelius may be with whom a retired builder has such very large transactions. Is it possible that he has had a hand in the affair? Cornelius might be a broker, but we have found no scrip to correspond with these large payments. Failinganyotherindicationmyresearches mustnowtakethedirectionofaninquiryatthebank forthegentlemanwhohascashedthesecheques. But I fear, my dear fellow, that our case will end inglo- riously by Lestrade hanging our client, which will certainlybeatriumphforScotlandYard.” IdonotknowhowfarSherlockHolmestookany sleepthatnight,butwhenIcamedowntobreakfast I found him pale and harassed, his bright eyes the brighterforthedarkshadowsroundthem. Thecarpet roundhischairwaslitteredwithcigarette-endsand with the early editions of the morning papers. An opentelegramlayuponthetable.</s>“What do you think of this, Watson?” he asked, tossingitacross.</s>ItwasfromNorwood,andranasfollows: “Importantfreshevidencetohand. McFar- lane’sguiltdefinitelyestablished. Advise youtoabandoncase.</s>—Lestrade.</s>“Thissoundsserious,”saidI.</s>“It is Lestrade’s little cock-a-doodle of victory,” Holmes answered, with a bitter smile. “And yet it maybeprematuretoabandonthecase. Afterall,im- portantfreshevidenceisatwo-edgedthing,andmay possiblycutinaverydifferentdirectiontothatwhich Lestradeimagines. Takeyourbreakfast,Watson,and we will go out together and see what we can do. I feelasifIshallneedyourcompanyandyourmoral supportto-day.” My friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his peculiarities that in his more intense mo- mentshewouldpermithimselfnofood,andIhave knownhimpresumeuponhisironstrengthuntilhe hasfaintedfrompureinanition. “AtpresentIcannot spareenergyandnerveforcefordigestion,”hewould say in answer to my medical remonstrances. I was not surprised, therefore, when this morning he left hisuntouchedmealbehindhimandstartedwithme forNorwood. Acrowdofmorbidsightseerswerestill gathered round Deep Dene House, which was just such a suburban villa as I had pictured. Within the gates Lestrade met us, his face flushed with victory, hismannergrosslytriumphant.“Well, Mr. Holmes, have you proved us to be wrongyet? Haveyoufoundyourtramp?”hecried.</s>“Ihaveformednoconclusionwhatever,”mycom- panionanswered.</s>“Butweformedoursyesterday,andnowitproves tobecorrect;soyoumustacknowledgethatwehave beenalittleinfrontofyouthistime,Mr.Holmes.” “Youcertainlyhavetheairofsomethingunusual havingoccurred,”saidHolmes.</s>Lestradelaughedloudly.</s>“You don’t like being beaten any more than the rest of us do,” said he. “A man can’t expect always to have it his own way, can he, Dr. Watson? Step this way, if you please, gentlemen, and I think I can convinceyouonceforallthatitwasJohnMcFarlane whodidthiscrime.” Heledusthroughthepassageandoutintoadark hallbeyond.</s>“ThisiswhereyoungMcFarlanemusthavecome out to get his hat after the crime was done,” said he. “Now, look at this.” With dramatic suddenness hestruckamatchandbyitslightexposedastainof blood upon the whitewashed wall. As he held the match nearer I saw that it was more than a stain. It wasthewell-markedprintofathumb.</s>“Look at that with your magnifying glass, Mr.</s>Holmes.” “Yes,Iamdoingso.” “You are aware that no two thumb marks are alike?” “Ihaveheardsomethingofthekind.” “Well, then, will you please compare that print withthiswaximpressionofyoungMcFarlane’sright thumb,takenbymyordersthismorning?” As he held the waxen print close to the blood- stainitdidnottakeamagnifyingglasstoseethatthe twowereundoubtedlyfromthesamethumb. Itwas evidenttomethatourunfortunateclientwaslost.</s>“Thatisfinal,”saidLestrade.</s>“Yes,thatisfinal,”Iinvoluntarilyechoed.</s>“Itisfinal,”saidHolmes.</s>Somethinginhistonecaughtmyear,andIturned to look at him. An extraordinary change had come overhisface. Itwaswrithingwithinwardmerriment.</s>His two eyes were shining like stars. It seemed to methathewasmakingdesperateeffortstorestraina convulsiveattackoflaughter.</s>“Dearme! Dearme!”hesaidatlast. “Well,now, whowouldhavethoughtit? Andhowdeceptiveap- pearancesmaybe,tobesure! Suchaniceyoungman to look at! It is a lesson to us not to trust our own judgment,isitnot,Lestrade?” “Yes,someofusarealittletoomuchinclinedto becocksure,Mr.Holmes,”saidLestrade. Theman’s insolencewasmaddening,butwecouldnotresentit.</s>“What a providential thing that this young man shouldpresshisrightthumbagainstthewallintak- inghishatfromthepeg! Suchaverynaturalaction, too, if you come to think of it.” Holmes was out- wardly calm, but his whole body gave a wriggle of suppressed excitement as he spoke. “By the way, Lestrade,whomadethisremarkablediscovery?” “It was the housekeeper, Mrs. Lexington, who drewthenightconstable’sattentiontoit.” “Wherewasthenightconstable?” “Heremainedonguardinthebedroomwherethe crime was committed, so as to see that nothing was touched.” “But why didn’t the police see this mark yester- day?” “Well,wehadnoparticularreasontomakeacare- fulexaminationofthehall. Besides,it’snotinavery prominentplace,asyousee.” “No,no,ofcoursenot. Isupposethereisnodoubt thatthemarkwasthereyesterday?” LestradelookedatHolmesasifhethoughthewas goingoutofhismind. IconfessthatIwasmyselfsur- prisedbothathishilariousmannerandathisrather wildobservation.</s>“I don’t know whether you think that McFar- lane came out of jail in the dead of the night in order to strengthen the evidence against himself,” said Lestrade. “I leave it to any expert in the world whetherthatisnotthemarkofhisthumb.” “Itisunquestionablythemarkofhisthumb.” “There, that’s enough,” said Lestrade. “I am a practicalman,Mr.Holmes,andwhenIhavegotmy evidenceIcometomyconclusions. Ifyouhaveany- thingtosayyouwillfindmewritingmyreportinthe sitting-room.” Holmes had recovered his equanimity, though I still seemed to detect gleams of amusement in his expression.</s>“Dearme,thisisaverysaddevelopment,Watson, isitnot?”saidhe. “Andyettherearesingularpoints aboutitwhichholdoutsomehopesforourclient.” “Iamdelightedtohearit,”saidI,heartily. “Iwas afraiditwasallupwithhim.”“Iwouldhardlygosofarastosaythat,mydear Watson. The fact is that there is one really serious flawinthisevidencetowhichourfriendattachesso muchimportance.” “Indeed,Holmes! Whatisit?” “Only this: that I know that that mark was not therewhenIexaminedthehallyesterday. Andnow, Watson, let us have a little stroll round in the sun- shine.” Withaconfusedbrain,butwithaheartintowhich somewarmthofhopewasreturning,Iaccompanied myfriendinawalkroundthegarden. Holmestook eachfaceofthehouseinturnandexamineditwith great interest. He then led the way inside and went overthewholebuildingfrombasementtoattics. Most of the rooms were unfurnished, but none the less Holmesinspectedthemallminutely. Finally,onthe topcorridor,whichranoutsidethreeuntenantedbed- rooms, he again was seized with a spasm of merri- ment.</s>“Therearereallysomeveryuniquefeaturesabout this case, Watson,” said he. “I think it is time now thatwetookourfriendLestradeintoourconfidence.</s>He has had his little smile at our expense, and per- hapswemaydoasmuchbyhimifmyreadingofthis problem proves to be correct. Yes, yes; I think I see howweshouldapproachit.” The Scotland Yard inspector was still writing in theparlourwhenHolmesinterruptedhim.</s>“I understood that you were writing a report of thiscase,”saidhe.</s>“SoIam.” “Don’t you think it may be a little premature? I can’t help thinking that your evidence is not com- plete.” Lestradeknewmyfriendtoowelltodisregardhis words. Helaiddownhispenandlookedcuriouslyat him.</s>“Whatdoyoumean,Mr.Holmes?” “Only that there is an important witness whom youhavenotseen.” “Canyouproducehim?” “IthinkIcan.” “Thendoso.” “I will do my best. How many constables have you?” “Therearethreewithincall.” “Excellent!” said Holmes. “May I ask if they are alllarge,able-bodiedmenwithpowerfulvoices?” “Ihavenodoubttheyare,thoughIfailtoseewhat theirvoiceshavetodowithit.” “PerhapsIcanhelpyoutoseethatandoneortwo otherthingsaswell,”saidHolmes. “Kindlysummon yourmen,andIwilltry.” Fiveminuteslaterthreepolicemenhadassembled inthehall.</s>“Intheouthouseyouwillfindaconsiderablequan- tityofstraw,”saidHolmes. “Iwillaskyoutocarryin twobundlesofit. Ithinkitwillbeofthegreatestassis- tanceinproducingthewitnesswhomIrequire. Thank youverymuch. Ibelieveyouhavesomematchesin your pocket, Watson. Now, Mr. Lestrade, I will ask youalltoaccompanymetothetoplanding.” As I have said, there was a broad corridor there, which ran outside three empty bedrooms. At one end of the corridor we were all marshalled by Sher- lock Holmes, the constables grinning and Lestrade staring at my friend with amazement, expectation, and derision chasing each other across his features.</s>Holmesstoodbeforeuswiththeairofaconjurerwho isperformingatrick.</s>“Would you kindly send one of your constables fortwobucketsofwater? Putthestrawonthefloor here, free from the wall on either side. Now I think thatweareallready.” Lestrade’sfacehadbeguntogrowredandangry.</s>“I don’t know whether you are playing a game withus,Mr.SherlockHolmes,”saidhe. “Ifyouknow anything, youcansurelysayitwithoutallthistom- foolery.” “I assure you, my good Lestrade, that I have an excellent reason for everything that I do. You may possiblyrememberthatyouchaffedmealittlesome hoursago,whenthesunseemedonyoursideofthe hedge,soyoumustnotgrudgemealittlepompand ceremonynow. MightIaskyou,Watson,toopenthat window, and then to put a match to the edge of the straw?” Ididso,and,drivenbythedraught,acoilofgrey smokeswirleddownthecorridor,whilethedrystraw crackledandflamed.</s>“Nowwemustseeifwecanfindthiswitnessfor you,Lestrade. MightIaskyoualltojoininthecryof ‘Fire!’? Now,then;one,two,three—” “Fire!”weallyelled.</s>“Thankyou. Iwilltroubleyouonceagain.” “Fire!” “Justoncemore,gentlemen,andalltogether.” “Fire!”TheshoutmusthaverungoverNorwood.Ithadhardlydiedawaywhenanamazingthing happened. A door suddenly flew open out of what appeared to be solid wall at the end of the corridor, andalittle,wizenedmandartedoutofit,likearabbit outofitsburrow.</s>“Capital!”saidHolmes,calmly. “Watson,abucket of water over the straw. That will do! Lestrade, al- low me to present you with your principal missing witness,Mr.JonasOldacre.” Thedetectivestaredatthenew-comerwithblank amazement. Thelatterwasblinkinginthebrightlight of the corridor, and peering at us and at the smoul- dering fire. It was an odious face—crafty, vicious, malignant,withshifty,light-greyeyesandwhiteeye- lashes.</s>“What’sthis,then?”saidLestradeatlast. “What haveyoubeendoingallthistime,eh?” Oldacre gave an uneasy laugh, shrinking back fromthefuriousredfaceoftheangrydetective.</s>“Ihavedonenoharm.” “No harm? You have done your best to get an innocent man hanged. If it wasn’t for this gentle- man here, I am not sure that you would not have succeeded.” Thewretchedcreaturebegantowhimper.</s>“Iamsure,sir,itwasonlymypracticaljoke.” “Oh! ajoke,wasit? Youwon’tfindthelaughon your side, I promise you. Take him down and keep himinthesitting-roomuntilIcome. Mr.Holmes,”he continued, when they had gone, “I could not speak beforetheconstables,butIdon’tmindsaying,inthe presenceofDr.Watson,thatthisisthebrightestthing thatyouhavedoneyet,thoughitisamysterytome howyoudidit. Youhavesavedaninnocentman’slife, andyouhavepreventedaverygravescandal,which wouldhaveruinedmyreputationintheForce.” Holmes smiled and clapped Lestrade upon the shoulder.</s>“Instead of being ruined, my good sir, you will find that your reputation has been enormously en- hanced. Just make a few alterations in that report which you were writing, and they will understand howharditistothrowdustintheeyesofInspector Lestrade.” “Andyoudon’twantyournametoappear?” “Notatall. Theworkisitsownreward. Perhaps I shall get the credit also at some distant day when Ipermitmyzealoushistoriantolayouthisfoolscap oncemore—eh,Watson? Well,now,letusseewhere thisrathasbeenlurking.” Alath-and-plasterpartitionhadbeenrunacross the passage six feet from the end, with a door cun- ninglyconcealedinit. Itwaslitwithinbyslitsunder theeaves. Afewarticlesoffurnitureandasupplyof foodandwaterwerewithin,togetherwithanumber ofbooksandpapers.</s>“There’s the advantage of being a builder,” said Holmes, as we came out. “He was able to fix up his own little hiding-place without any confeder- ate—save, of course, that precious housekeeper of his, whom I should lose no time in adding to your bag,Lestrade.” “I’lltakeyouradvice. Buthowdidyouknowof thisplace,Mr.Holmes?” “Imadeupmymindthatthefellowwasinhiding inthehouse. WhenIpacedonecorridorandfound itsixfeetshorterthanthecorrespondingonebelow, it was pretty clear where he was. I thought he had notthenervetoliequietbeforeanalarmoffire. We could, of course, have gone in and taken him, but it amused me to make him reveal himself; besides, I owed you a little mystification, Lestrade, for your chaffinthemorning.” “Well,sir,youcertainlygotequalwithmeonthat.</s>But how in the world did you know that he was in thehouseatall?” “The thumb-mark, Lestrade. You said it was fi- nal; and so it was, in a very different sense. I knew it had not been there the day before. I pay a good dealofattentiontomattersofdetail,asyoumayhave observed,andIhadexaminedthehallandwassure thatthewallwasclear. Therefore,ithadbeenputon duringthenight.” “Buthow?” “Verysimply. Whenthosepacketsweresealedup, JonasOldacregotMcFarlanetosecureoneoftheseals by putting his thumb upon the soft wax. It would be done so quickly and so naturally that I dare say theyoungmanhimselfhasnorecollectionofit. Very likely it just so happened, and Oldacre had himself nonotionoftheusehewouldputitto. Broodingover the case in that den of his, it suddenly struck him what absolutely damning evidence he could make againstMcFarlanebyusingthatthumb-mark. Itwas thesimplestthingintheworldforhimtotakeawax impression from the seal, to moisten it in as much blood as he could get from a pin-prick, and to put themarkuponthewallduringthenight,eitherwith hisownhandorwiththatofhishousekeeper. Ifyou examineamongthosedocumentswhichhetookwith him into his retreat I will lay you a wager that you findthesealwiththethumb-markuponit.”“Wonderful!”saidLestrade. “Wonderful! It’sall asclearascrystal,asyouputit. Butwhatistheobject ofthisdeepdeception,Mr.Holmes?” It was amusing to me to see how the detective’s overbearingmannerhadchangedsuddenlytothatof achildaskingquestionsofitsteacher.</s>“Well,Idon’tthinkthatisveryhardtoexplain. A verydeep,malicious,vindictivepersonisthegentle- manwhoisnowawaitingusdownstairs. Youknow thathewasoncerefusedbyMcFarlane’smother? You don’t! I told you that you should go to Blackheath firstandNorwoodafterwards. Well,thisinjury,ashe wouldconsiderit,hasrankledinhiswicked,schem- ingbrain,andallhislifehehaslongedforvengeance, butneverseenhischance. Duringthelastyearortwo things have gone against him—secret speculation, I think—andhefindshimselfinabadway. Hedeter- minestoswindlehiscreditors,andforthispurpose hepayslargechequestoacertainMr.Cornelius,who is,Iimagine,himselfunderanothername. Ihavenot traced these cheques yet, but I have no doubt that theywerebankedunderthatnameatsomeprovincial townwhereOldacrefromtimetotimeledadouble existence. Heintendedtochangehisnamealtogether, drawthismoney,andvanish,startinglifeagainelse- where.” “Well,that’slikelyenough.” “Itwouldstrikehimthatindisappearinghemight throwallpursuitoffhistrack,andatthesametime have an ample and crushing revenge upon his old sweetheart, if he could give the impression that he hadbeenmurderedbyheronlychild. Itwasamas- terpieceofvillainy,andhecarrieditoutlikeamaster.</s>Theideaofthewill,whichwouldgiveanobviousmo- tiveforthecrime,thesecretvisitunknowntohisown parents,theretentionofthestick,theblood,andthe animalremainsandbuttonsinthewood-pile,allwere admirable. Itwasanetfromwhichitseemedtomea fewhoursagothattherewasnopossibleescape. But hehadnotthatsupremegiftoftheartist,theknowl- edge of when to stop. He wished to improve that whichwasalreadyperfect—todrawtheropetighter yetroundtheneckofhisunfortunatevictim—andso heruinedall. Letusdescend,Lestrade. Therearejust oneortwoquestionsthatIwouldaskhim.” The malignant creature was seated in his own parlourwithapolicemanuponeachsideofhim.</s>“Itwasajoke,mygoodsir,apracticaljoke,noth- ingmore,”hewhinedincessantly. “Iassureyou,sir, that I simply concealed myself in order to see the effect of my disappearance, and I am sure that you would not be so unjust as to imagine that I would haveallowedanyharmtobefallpooryoungMr.Mc- Farlane.” “That’sforajurytodecide,”saidLestrade. “Any- how,weshallhaveyouonachargeofconspiracy,if notforattemptedmurder.” “Andyou’llprobablyfindthatyourcreditorswill impoundthebankingaccountofMr.Cornelius,”said Holmes.</s>The little man started and turned his malignant eyesuponmyfriend.</s>“I have to thank you for a good deal,” said he.</s>“PerhapsI’llpaymydebtsomeday.” Holmessmiledindulgently.</s>“Ifancythatforsomefewyearsyouwillfindyour timeveryfullyoccupied,”saidhe. “Bytheway,what was it you put into the wood-pile besides your old trousers? Adeaddog,orrabbits,orwhat? Youwon’t tell? Dearme,howveryunkindofyou! Well,well,I daresaythatacoupleofrabbitswouldaccountboth for the blood and for the charred ashes. If ever you writeanaccount,Watson,youcanmakerabbitsserve yourturn.”olmeshadbeenseatedforsomehoursinsi- lencewithhislong,thinbackcurvedovera chemicalvesselinwhichhewasbrewinga H particularlymalodorousproduct. Hishead was sunk upon his breast, and he looked from my pointofviewlikeastrange,lankbird,withdullgrey plumageandablacktop-knot.</s>“So,Watson,”saidhe,suddenly,“youdonotpro- posetoinvestinSouthAfricansecurities?” I gave a start of astonishment. Accustomed as I was to Holmes’s curious faculties, this sudden in- trusion into my most intimate thoughts was utterly inexplicable.</s>“Howonearthdoyouknowthat?”Iasked.</s>Hewheeledrounduponhisstool,withasteaming test-tube in his hand and a gleam of amusement in hisdeep-seteyes.</s>“Now, Watson, confess yourself utterly taken aback,”saidhe.</s>“Iam.” “Ioughttomakeyousignapapertothateffect.” “Why?” “Becauseinfiveminutesyouwillsaythatitisall soabsurdlysimple.” “IamsurethatIshallsaynothingofthekind.” “Yousee,mydearWatson”—heproppedhistest- tube in the rack and began to lecture with the air of a professor addressing his class—“it is not really difficulttoconstructaseriesofinferences,eachdepen- dent upon its predecessor and each simple in itself.</s>If,afterdoingso,onesimplyknocksoutallthecen- tralinferencesandpresentsone’saudiencewiththe starting-pointandtheconclusion,onemayproducea startling,thoughpossiblyameretricious,effect. Now, it was not really difficult, by an inspection of the groove between your left forefinger and thumb, to feelsurethatyoudidnotproposetoinvestyoursmall capitalinthegoldfields.” “Iseenoconnection.” “Very likely not; but I can quickly show you a close connection. Here are the missing links of the very simple chain: 1. You had chalk between your left finger and thumb when you returned from the clublastnight. 2.Youputchalktherewhenyouplay billiardstosteadythecue. 3.Youneverplaybilliards exceptwithThurston. 4.Youtoldmefourweeksago thatThurstonhadanoptiononsomeSouthAfrican propertywhichwouldexpireinamonth,andwhich he desired you to share with him. 5. Your cheque- bookislockedinmydrawer,andyouhavenotasked for the key. 6. You do not propose to invest your moneyinthismanner.” “Howabsurdlysimple!”Icried.</s>“Quite so!” said he, a little nettled. “Every prob- lembecomesverychildishwhenonceitisexplained to you. Here is an unexplained one. See what you canmakeofthat,friendWatson.”Hetossedasheet ofpaperuponthetableandturnedoncemoretohis chemicalanalysis.</s>I looked with amazement at the absurd hiero- glyphicsuponthepaper.</s>“Why,Holmes,itisachild’sdrawing,”Icried.</s>“Oh,that’syouridea!” “Whatelseshoulditbe?” “ThatiswhatMr.HiltonCubitt,ofRidlingThorpe Manor, Norfolk, is very anxious to know. This little conundrum came by the first post, and he was to follow by the next train. There’s a ring at the bell, Watson. Ishouldnotbeverymuchsurprisedifthis werehe.” A heavy step was heard upon the stairs, and an instantlaterthereenteredatall,ruddy,clean-shaven gentleman, whose clear eyes and florid cheeks told of a life led far from the fogs of Baker Street. He seemedtobringawhiffofhisstrong,fresh,bracing, east-coastairwithhimasheentered. Havingshaken handswitheachofus,hewasabouttositdownwhen hiseyeresteduponthepaperwiththecuriousmark- ings, which I had just examined and left upon the table.</s>“Well,Mr.Holmes,whatdoyoumakeofthese?” hecried. “Theytoldmethatyouwerefondofqueer mysteries, and I don’t think you can find a queerer onethanthat. Isentthepaperonaheadsothatyou mighthavetimetostudyitbeforeIcame.” “Itiscertainlyratheracuriousproduction,”said Holmes. “At first sight it would appear to be some childishprank. Itconsistsofanumberofabsurdlittle figuresdancingacrossthepaperuponwhichtheyare drawn. Whyshouldyouattributeanyimportanceto sogrotesqueanobject?” “I never should, Mr. Holmes. But my wife does.</s>It is frightening her to death. She says nothing, but Icanseeterrorinhereyes. That’swhyIwanttosift themattertothebottom.” Holmes held up the paper so that the sunlight shone full upon it. It was a page torn from a note- book. Themarkingsweredoneinpencil,andranin thisway:—Holmesexamineditforsometime,andthen,fold- ingitcarefullyup,heplaceditinhispocket-book.</s>“This promises to be a most interesting and un- usualcase,”saidhe. “Yougavemeafewparticulars inyourletter,Mr.HiltonCubitt,butIshouldbevery muchobligedifyouwouldkindlygooveritallagain forthebenefitofmyfriend,Dr.Watson.” “I’m not much of a story-teller,” said our visitor, nervouslyclaspingandunclaspinghisgreat,strong hands. “You’lljustaskmeanythingthatIdon’tmake clear. I’llbeginatthetimeofmymarriagelastyear; butIwanttosayfirstofallthat,thoughI’mnotarich man, my people have been at Ridling Thorpe for a matteroffivecenturies,andthereisnobetterknown familyintheCountyofNorfolk. LastyearIcameup toLondonfortheJubilee,andIstoppedataboarding- houseinRussellSquare,becauseParker,thevicarof our parish, was staying in it. There was an Ameri- canyoungladythere—Patrickwasthename—Elsie Patrick. Insomewaywebecamefriends,untilbefore my month was up I was as much in love as a man could be. We were quietly married at a registry of- fice, and we returned to Norfolk a wedded couple.</s>You’llthinkitverymad,Mr.Holmes,thatamanofa goodoldfamilyshouldmarryawifeinthisfashion, knowing nothing of her past or of her people; but if you saw her and knew her it would help you to understand.</s>“Shewasverystraightaboutit,wasElsie. Ican’t saythatshedidnotgivemeeverychanceofgetting out of it if I wished to do so. ‘I have had some very disagreeableassociationsinmylife,’saidshe;‘Iwish toforgetallaboutthem. Iwouldratherneverallude tothepast,foritisverypainfultome. Ifyoutakeme, Hilton,youwilltakeawomanwhohasnothingthat sheneedbepersonallyashamedof;butyouwillhave tobecontentwithmywordforit,andtoallowmeto be silent as to all that passed up to the time when I becameyours. Iftheseconditionsaretoohard,then gobacktoNorfolkandleavemetothelonelylifein whichyoufoundme.’ Itwasonlythedaybeforeour weddingthatshesaidthoseverywordstome. Itold herthatIwascontenttotakeheronherownterms, andIhavebeenasgoodasmyword.</s>“Well,wehavebeenmarriednowforayear,and veryhappywehavebeen. Butaboutamonthago,at theendofJune,Isawforthefirsttimesignsoftrou- ble. OnedaymywifereceivedaletterfromAmerica.</s>IsawtheAmericanstamp. Sheturneddeadlywhite, read the letter, and threw it into the fire. She made no allusion to it afterwards, and I made none, for a promise is a promise; but she has never known an easyhourfromthatmoment. Thereisalwaysalook offearuponherface—alookasifshewerewaiting andexpecting. Shewoulddobettertotrustme. She would find that I was her best friend. But until she speaksIcansaynothing. Mindyou,sheisatruthful woman,Mr.Holmes,andwhatevertroubletheremay havebeeninherpastlifeithasbeennofaultofhers.</s>IamonlyasimpleNorfolksquire,butthereisnota maninEnglandwhorankshisfamilyhonourmore highlythanIdo. Sheknowsitwell,andsheknewit well before she married me. She would never bring anystainuponit—ofthatIamsure.</s>“Well, now I come to the queer part of my story.</s>Aboutaweekago—itwastheTuesdayoflastweek—I foundononeofthewindow-sillsanumberofabsurd littledancingfigures,liketheseuponthepaper. They were scrawled with chalk. I thought that it was the stable-boy who had drawn them, but the lad swore he knew nothing about it. Anyhow, they had come thereduringthenight. Ihadthemwashedout,andI onlymentionedthemattertomywifeafterwards. To mysurpriseshetookitveryseriously,andbeggedme ifanymorecametoletherseethem. Nonedidcome foraweek,andthenyesterdaymorningIfoundthis paperlyingonthesun-dialinthegarden. Ishowedit toElsie,anddownshedroppedinadeadfaint. Since then she has looked like a woman in a dream, half dazed,andwithterroralwayslurkinginhereyes. It wasthenthatIwroteandsentthepapertoyou,Mr.</s>Holmes. It was not a thing that I could take to the police, for they would have laughed at me, but you will tell me what to do. I am not a rich man; but if there is any danger threatening my little woman I wouldspendmylastcoppertoshieldher.” He was a fine creature, this man of the old En- glishsoil,simple,straight,andgentle,withhisgreat, earnest blue eyes and broad, comely face. His love forhiswifeandhistrustinhershoneinhisfeatures.</s>Holmes had listened to his story with the utmost attention, and now he sat for some time in silent thought.</s>“Don’t you think, Mr. Cubitt,” said he, at last, “thatyourbestplanwouldbetomakeadirectappeal toyourwife,andtoaskhertosharehersecretwith you?” HiltonCubittshookhismassivehead.</s>“A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wishedtotellmeshewould. Ifnot,itisnotformetoforceherconfidence. ButIamjustifiedintakingmy ownline—andIwill.” “Then I will help you with all my heart. In the firstplace,haveyouheardofanystrangersbeingseen inyourneighbourhood?” “No.” “Ipresumethatitisaveryquietplace. Anyfresh facewouldcausecomment?” “In the immediate neighbourhood, yes. But we haveseveralsmallwatering-placesnotveryfaraway.</s>Andthefarmerstakeinlodgers.” “Thesehieroglyphicshaveevidentlyameaning. If it is a purely arbitrary one it may be impossible for us to solve it. If, on the other hand, it is systematic, Ihavenodoubtthatweshallgettothebottomofit.</s>But this particular sample is so short that I can do nothing, and the facts which you have brought me aresoindefinitethatwehavenobasisforaninvesti- gation. I would suggest that you return to Norfolk, that you keep a keen look-out, and that you take an exact copy of any fresh dancing men which may appear. It is a thousand pities that we have not a reproductionofthosewhichweredoneinchalkupon the window-sill. Make a discreet inquiry also as to anystrangersintheneighbourhood. Whenyouhave collectedsomefreshevidencecometomeagain. That is the best advice which I can give you, Mr. Hilton Cubitt. Ifthereareanypressingfreshdevelopments I shall be always ready to run down and see you in yourNorfolkhome.” TheinterviewleftSherlockHolmesverythought- ful,andseveraltimesinthenextfewdaysIsawhim take his slip of paper from his note-book and look long and earnestly at the curious figures inscribed upon it. He made no allusion to the affair, however, untiloneafternoonafortnightorsolater. Iwasgoing outwhenhecalledmeback.</s>“Youhadbetterstayhere,Watson.” “Why?” “Because I had a wire from Hilton Cubitt this morning—yourememberHiltonCubitt,ofthedanc- ing men? He was to reach Liverpool Street at one- twenty. Hemaybehereatanymoment. Igatherfrom hiswirethattherehavebeensomenewincidentsof importance.” We had not long to wait, for our Norfolk squire came straight from the station as fast as a hansom could bring him. He was looking worried and de- pressed,withtiredeyesandalinedforehead.</s>“It’s getting on my nerves, this business, Mr.</s>Holmes,” said he, as he sank, like a wearied man, into an arm-chair. “It’s bad enough to feel that you aresurroundedbyunseen,unknownfolk,whohave somekindofdesignuponyou;butwhen,inaddition to that, you know that it is just killing your wife by inches, then it becomes as much as flesh and blood canendure. She’swearingawayunderit—justwear- ingawaybeforemyeyes.” “Hasshesaidanythingyet?” “No, Mr. Holmes, she has not. And yet there have been times when the poor girl has wanted to speak, and yet could not quite bring herself to take the plunge. I have tried to help her; but I dare say I did it clumsily, and scared her off from it. She has spokenaboutmyoldfamily,andourreputationinthe county,andourprideinourunsulliedhonour,andI alwaysfeltitwasleadingtothepoint;butsomehow itturnedoffbeforewegotthere.” “Butyouhavefoundoutsomethingforyourself?” “A good deal, Mr. Holmes. I have several fresh dancingmenpicturesforyoutoexamine,and,what ismoreimportant,Ihaveseenthefellow.” “What,themanwhodrawsthem?” “Yes, I saw him at his work. But I will tell you everything in order. When I got back after my visit toyou,theveryfirstthingIsawnextmorningwasa freshcropofdancingmen. Theyhadbeendrawnin chalkupontheblackwoodendoorofthetool-house, whichstandsbesidethelawninfullviewofthefront windows. I took an exact copy, and here it is.” He unfoldedapaperandlaidituponthetable. Hereisa copyofthehieroglyphics:— “Excellent!” said Holmes. “Excellent! Pray con- tinue.” “When I had taken the copy I rubbed out the marks;buttwomorningslaterafreshinscriptionhad appeared. Ihaveacopyofithere”:—Holmesrubbedhishandsandchuckledwithde- light.</s>“Ourmaterialisrapidlyaccumulating,”saidhe.</s>“Three days later a message was left scrawled uponpaper,andplacedunderapebbleuponthesun- dial. Hereitis. Thecharactersare,asyousee,exactly thesameasthelastone. AfterthatIdeterminedtolie in wait; so I got out my revolver and I sat up in my study,whichoverlooksthelawnandgarden. About two in the morning I was seated by the window, all being dark save for the moonlight outside, when I heardstepsbehindme,andtherewasmywifeinher dressing-gown. She implored me to come to bed. I toldherfranklythatIwishedtoseewhoitwaswho playedsuchabsurdtricksuponus. Sheansweredthat itwassomesenselesspracticaljoke,andthatIshould nottakeanynoticeofit.</s>“‘Ifitreallyannoysyou,Hilton,wemightgoand travel,youandI,andsoavoidthisnuisance.’ “‘What,bedrivenoutofourownhousebyaprac- tical joker?’ said I. ‘Why, we should have the whole countylaughingatus.’ “‘Well,cometobed,’saidshe,‘andwecandiscuss itinthemorning.’ “Suddenly,asshespoke,Isawherwhitefacegrow whiteryetinthemoonlight,andherhandtightened upon my shoulder. Something was moving in the shadowofthetool-house. Isawadark,creepingfig- urewhichcrawledroundthecornerandsquattedin frontofthedoor. SeizingmypistolIwasrushingout, whenmywifethrewherarmsroundmeandheldme withconvulsivestrength. Itriedtothrowheroff,but sheclungtomemostdesperately. AtlastIgotclear, but by the time I had opened the door and reached thehousethecreaturewasgone. Hehadleftatrace of his presence, however, for there on the door was the very same arrangement of dancing men which hadalreadytwiceappeared,andwhichIhavecopied onthatpaper. Therewasnoothersignofthefellow anywhere,thoughIranalloverthegrounds. Andyet theamazingthingisthathemusthavebeenthereall thetime,forwhenIexaminedthedooragaininthe morninghehadscrawledsomemoreofhispictures underthelinewhichIhadalreadyseen.” “Haveyouthatfreshdrawing?” “Yes;itisveryshort,butImadeacopyofit,and hereitis.” Againheproducedapaper. Thenewdancewas inthisform:— “Tell me,” said Holmes—and I could see by his eyes that he was much excited—“was this a mere addition to the first, or did it appear to be entirely separate?” “Itwasonadifferentpanelofthedoor.” “Excellent! This is far the most important of all for our purpose. It fills me with hopes. Now, Mr.</s>HiltonCubitt,pleasecontinueyourmostinteresting statement.” “Ihavenothingmoretosay, Mr.Holmes, except thatIwasangrywithmywifethatnightforhaving heldmebackwhenImighthavecaughttheskulking rascal. ShesaidthatshefearedthatImightcometo harm. Foraninstantithadcrossedmymindthatper- hapswhatshereallyfearedwasthathemightcome toharm,forIcouldnotdoubtthatsheknewwhothis manwasandwhathemeantbythesestrangesignals.</s>But there is a tone in my wife’s voice, Mr. Holmes, andalookinhereyeswhichforbiddoubt,andIam surethatitwasindeedmyownsafetythatwasinher mind. There’sthewholecase,andnowIwantyour adviceastowhatIoughttodo. Myowninclinationis toputhalf-a-dozenofmyfarmladsintheshrubbery, andwhenthisfellowcomesagaintogivehimsucha hidingthathewillleaveusinpeaceforthefuture.” “Ifearitistoodeepacaseforsuchsimplereme- dies,”saidHolmes. “HowlongcanyoustayinLon- don?” “Imustgobackto-day. Iwouldnotleavemywife aloneallnightforanything. Sheisverynervousand beggedmetocomeback.” “I dare say you are right. But if you could have stopped I might possibly have been able to return withyouinadayortwo. Meanwhileyouwillleave methesepapers,andIthinkthatitisverylikelythat Ishallbeabletopayyouavisitshortlyandtothrow somelightuponyourcase.” SherlockHolmespreservedhiscalmprofessional manneruntilourvisitorhadleftus,althoughitwas easyforme,whoknewhimsowell,toseethathewas profoundlyexcited. ThemomentthatHiltonCubitt’s broad back had disappeared through the door my comraderushedtothetable,laidoutalltheslipsof paper containing dancing men in front of him, and threw himself into an intricate and elaborate calcu- lation. For two hours I watched him as he covered sheetaftersheetofpaperwithfiguresandletters,so completelyabsorbedinhistaskthathehadevidentlyforgotten my presence. Sometimes he was making progress and whistled and sang at his work; some- timeshewaspuzzled, andwouldsitforlongspells with a furrowed brow and a vacant eye. Finally he sprangfromhischairwithacryofsatisfaction,and walked up and down the room rubbing his hands together. Thenhewrotealongtelegramuponacable form. “IfmyanswertothisisasIhope,youwillhave averyprettycasetoaddtoyourcollection,Watson,” saidhe. “Iexpectthatweshallbeabletogodownto Norfolkto-morrow,andtotakeourfriendsomevery definitenewsastothesecretofhisannoyance.” IconfessthatIwasfilledwithcuriosity,butIwas aware that Holmes liked to make his disclosures at hisowntimeandinhisownway;soIwaiteduntilit shouldsuithimtotakemeintohisconfidence.</s>Buttherewasadelayinthatansweringtelegram, andtwodaysofimpatiencefollowed,duringwhich Holmesprickeduphisearsateveryringofthebell.</s>Ontheeveningofthesecondtherecamealetterfrom Hilton Cubitt. All was quiet with him, save that a longinscriptionhadappearedthatmorninguponthe pedestal of the sun-dial. He inclosed a copy of it, whichisherereproduced:— Holmes bent over this grotesque frieze for some minutes, and then suddenly sprang to his feet with anexclamationofsurpriseanddismay. Hisfacewas haggardwithanxiety.</s>“We have let this affair go far enough,” said he.</s>“IsthereatraintoNorthWalshamto-night?” Iturnedupthetime-table. Thelasthadjustgone.</s>“Thenweshallbreakfastearlyandtakethevery first in the morning,” said Holmes. “Our presence is most urgently needed. Ah! here is our expected cablegram. One moment, Mrs. Hudson; there may be an answer. No, that is quite as I expected. This messagemakesitevenmoreessentialthatweshould not lose an hour in letting Hilton Cubitt know how mattersstand,foritisasingularandadangerousweb inwhichoursimpleNorfolksquireisentangled.” So, indeed, it proved, and as I come to the dark conclusionofastorywhichhadseemedtometobe onlychildishandbizarreIexperienceonceagainthe dismay and horror with which I was filled. Would that I had some brighter ending to communicate to myreaders,butthesearethechroniclesoffact,and I must follow to their dark crisis the strange chain ofeventswhichforsomedaysmadeRidlingThorpe Manor a household word through the length and breadthofEngland.</s>We had hardly alighted at North Walsham, and mentioned the name of our destination, when the station-master hurried towards us. “I suppose that youarethedetectivesfromLondon?”saidhe.</s>AlookofannoyancepassedoverHolmes’sface.</s>“Whatmakesyouthinksuchathing?” “BecauseInspectorMartinfromNorwichhasjust passed through. But maybe you are the surgeons.</s>She’snotdead—orwasn’tbylastaccounts. Youmay be in time to save her yet—though it be for the gal- lows.” Holmes’sbrowwasdarkwithanxiety.</s>“We are going to Ridling Thorpe Manor,” said he, “but we have heard nothing of what has passed there.” “It’s a terrible business,” said the station-master.</s>“They are shot, both Mr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife.</s>She shot him and then herself—so the servants say.</s>He’sdeadandherlifeisdespairedof. Dear,dear,one of the oldest families in the County of Norfolk, and oneofthemosthonoured.” WithoutawordHolmeshurriedtoacarriage,and during the long seven miles’ drive he never opened his mouth. Seldom have I seen him so utterly de- spondent. Hehadbeenuneasyduringallourjourney from town, and I had observed that he had turned overthemorningpaperswithanxiousattention;but nowthissuddenrealizationofhisworstfearslefthim inablankmelancholy. Heleanedbackinhisseat,lost ingloomyspeculation. Yettherewasmucharoundto interestus,forwewerepassingthroughassingulara country-sideasanyinEngland,whereafewscattered cottagesrepresentedthepopulationofto-day,while on every hand enormous square-towered churches bristledupfromtheflat,greenlandscapeandtoldof the glory and prosperity of old East Anglia. At last the violet rim of the German Ocean appeared over the green edge of the Norfolk coast, and the driver pointed with his whip to two old brick and timber gableswhichprojectedfromagroveoftrees. “That’s RidlingThorpeManor,”saidhe.</s>As we drove up to the porticoed front door I ob- servedinfrontofit,besidethetennislawn,theblack tool-houseandthepedestalledsun-dialwithwhich wehadsuchstrangeassociations. Adapperlittleman, with a quick, alert manner and a waxed moustache, had just descended from a high dog-cart. He intro- duced himself as Inspector Martin, of the Norfolk Constabulary, and he was considerably astonished whenheheardthenameofmycompanion.“Why,Mr.Holmes,thecrimewasonlycommitted at three this morning. How could you hear of it in LondonandgettothespotassoonasI?” “Ianticipatedit. Icameinthehopeofpreventing it.” “Thenyoumusthaveimportantevidenceofwhich weareignorant,fortheyweresaidtobeamostunited couple.” “I have only the evidence of the dancing men,” said Holmes. “I will explain the matter to you later.</s>Meanwhile,sinceitistoolatetopreventthistragedy, I am very anxious that I should use the knowledge whichIpossessinordertoensurethatjusticebedone.</s>Will you associate me in your investigation, or will youpreferthatIshouldactindependently?” “I should be proud to feel that we were acting together,Mr.Holmes,”saidtheinspector,earnestly.</s>“InthatcaseIshouldbegladtoheartheevidence and to examine the premises without an instant of unnecessarydelay.” InspectorMartinhadthegoodsensetoallowmy friendtodothingsinhisownfashion,andcontented himselfwithcarefullynotingtheresults. Thelocalsur- geon,anold,white-hairedman,hadjustcomedown fromMrs.HiltonCubitt’sroom,andhereportedthat her injuries were serious, but not necessarily fatal.</s>Thebullethadpassedthroughthefrontofherbrain, anditwouldprobablybesometimebeforeshecould regain consciousness. On the question of whether she had been shot or had shot herself he would not venture to express any decided opinion. Certainly thebullethadbeendischargedatveryclosequarters.</s>Therewasonlytheonepistolfoundintheroom,two barrels of which had been emptied. Mr. Hilton Cu- bitthadbeenshotthroughtheheart. Itwasequally conceivablethathehadshotherandthenhimself,or that she had been the criminal, for the revolver lay uponthefloormidwaybetweenthem.</s>“Hashebeenmoved?”askedHolmes.</s>“We have moved nothing except the lady. We couldnotleaveherlyingwoundeduponthefloor.” “Howlonghaveyoubeenhere,doctor?” “Sincefouro’clock.” “Anyoneelse?” “Yes,theconstablehere.” “Andyouhavetouchednothing?” “Nothing.” “Youhaveactedwithgreatdiscretion. Whosent foryou?” “Thehousemaid,Saunders.” “Wasitshewhogavethealarm?” “SheandMrs.King,thecook.” “Wherearetheynow?” “Inthekitchen,Ibelieve.” “Then I think we had better hear their story at once.” The old hall, oak-panelled and high-windowed, hadbeenturnedintoacourtofinvestigation. Holmes satinagreat,old-fashionedchair,hisinexorableeyes gleaming out of his haggard face. I could read in them a set purpose to devote his life to this quest until the client whom he had failed to save should at last be avenged. The trim Inspector Martin, the old,grey-headedcountrydoctor,myself,andastolid village policeman made up the rest of that strange company.</s>The two women told their story clearly enough.</s>Theyhadbeenarousedfromtheirsleepbythesound of an explosion, which had been followed a minute laterbyasecondone. Theysleptinadjoiningrooms, andMrs.KinghadrushedintoSaunders. Together theyhaddescendedthestairs. Thedoorofthestudy was open and a candle was burning upon the table.</s>Their master lay upon his face in the centre of the room. Hewasquitedead. Nearthewindowhiswife wascrouching,herheadleaningagainstthewall. She washorriblywounded,andthesideofherfacewas red with blood. She breathed heavily, but was inca- pableofsayinganything. Thepassage,aswellasthe room,wasfullofsmokeandthesmellofpowder. The windowwascertainlyshutandfasteneduponthein- side. Bothwomenwerepositiveuponthepoint. They hadatoncesentforthedoctorandfortheconstable.</s>Then, with the aid of the groom and the stable-boy, theyhadconveyedtheirinjuredmistresstoherroom.</s>Bothsheandherhusbandhadoccupiedthebed. She wascladinherdress—heinhisdressing-gown,over his night clothes. Nothing had been moved in the study. Sofarastheyknewtherehadneverbeenany quarrelbetweenhusbandandwife. Theyhadalways lookeduponthemasaveryunitedcouple.</s>These were the main points of the servants’ evi- dence. InanswertoInspectorMartintheywereclear that every door was fastened upon the inside, and thatnoonecouldhaveescapedfromthehouse. Inan- swertoHolmestheybothrememberedthattheywere conscious of the smell of powder from the moment thattheyranoutoftheirroomsuponthetopfloor. “I commendthatfactverycarefullytoyourattention,” saidHolmestohisprofessionalcolleague. “AndnowIthinkthatweareinapositiontoundertakeathor- oughexaminationoftheroom.” Thestudyprovedtobeasmallchamber,linedon threesideswithbooks,andwithawriting-tablefacing anordinarywindow,whichlookedoutuponthegar- den. Ourfirstattentionwasgiventothebodyofthe unfortunatesquire,whosehugeframelaystretched acrosstheroom. Hisdisordereddressshowedthathe hadbeenhastilyarousedfromsleep. Thebullethad been fired at him from the front, and had remained inhisbodyafterpenetratingtheheart. Hisdeathhad certainlybeeninstantaneousandpainless. Therewas no powder-marking either upon his dressing-gown or on his hands. According to the country surgeon theladyhadstainsuponherface,butnoneuponher hand.</s>“Theabsenceofthelattermeansnothing,though its presence may mean everything,” said Holmes.</s>“Unless the powder from a badly-fitting cartridge happenstospurtbackwards,onemayfiremanyshots withoutleavingasign. IwouldsuggestthatMr.Cu- bitt’sbodymaynowberemoved. Isuppose,doctor, youhavenotrecoveredthebulletwhichwoundedthe lady?” “Aseriousoperationwillbenecessarybeforethat can be done. But there are still four cartridges in the revolver. Two have been fired and two wounds inflicted,sothateachbulletcanbeaccountedfor.” “So it would seem,” said Holmes. “Perhaps you canaccountalsoforthebulletwhichhassoobviously strucktheedgeofthewindow?” Hehadturnedsuddenly,andhislong,thinfinger waspointingtoaholewhichhadbeendrilledright throughthelowerwindow-sashaboutaninchabove thebottom.</s>“ByGeorge!”criedtheinspector. “Howeverdid youseethat?” “BecauseIlookedforit.” “Wonderful!” said the country doctor. “You are certainly right, sir. Then a third shot has been fired, andthereforeathirdpersonmusthavebeenpresent.</s>Butwhocouldthathavebeenandhowcouldhehave gotaway?” “Thatistheproblemwhichwearenowaboutto solve,”saidSherlockHolmes. “Youremember,Inspec- tor Martin, when the servants said that on leaving theirroomtheywereatonceconsciousofasmellof powder I remarked that the point was an extremely importantone?” “Yes,sir;butIconfessIdidnotquitefollowyou.” “Itsuggestedthatatthetimeofthefiringthewin- dowaswellasthedooroftheroomhadbeenopen.</s>Otherwisethefumesofpowdercouldnothavebeen blownsorapidlythroughthehouse. Adraughtinthe roomwasnecessaryforthat. Bothdoorandwindow wereonlyopenforaveryshorttime,however.” “Howdoyouprovethat?” “Becausethecandlehasnotguttered.” “Capital!”criedtheinspector. “Capital!” “Feelingsurethatthewindowhadbeenopenat thetimeofthetragedyIconceivedthattheremight have been a third person in the affair, who stood outsidethisopeningandfiredthroughit. Anyshot directed at this person might hit the sash. I looked, andthere,sureenough,wasthebulletmark!” “But how came the window to be shut and fas- tened?” “Thewoman’sfirstinstinctwouldbetoshutand fastenthewindow. But,halloa! whatisthis?” It was a lady’s hand-bag which stood upon the studytable—atrimlittlehand-bagofcrocodile-skin and silver. Holmes opened it and turned the con- tentsout. Thereweretwentyfifty-poundnotesofthe Bank of England, held together by an india-rubber band—nothingelse.</s>“This must be preserved, for it will figure in the trial,” said Holmes, as he handed the bag with its contentstotheinspector. “Itisnownecessarythatwe shouldtrytothrowsomelightuponthisthirdbullet, which has clearly, from the splintering of the wood, beenfiredfrominsidetheroom. Ishouldliketosee Mrs.King,thecook,again. Yousaid,Mrs.King,that you were awakened by a loud explosion. When you said that, did you mean that it seemed to you to be louderthanthesecondone?” “Well,sir,itwakenedmefrommysleep,andsoit ishardtojudge. Butitdidseemveryloud.” “Youdon’tthinkthatitmighthavebeentwoshots firedalmostatthesameinstant?” “IamsureIcouldn’tsay,sir.” “I believe that it was undoubtedly so. I rather think,InspectorMartin,thatwehavenowexhausted allthatthisroomcanteachus. Ifyouwillkindlystep roundwithme,weshallseewhatfreshevidencethe gardenhastooffer.” A flower-bed extended up to the study window, and we all broke into an exclamation as we ap- proached it. The flowers were trampled down, and the soft soil was imprinted all over with footmarks.</s>Large,masculinefeettheywere,withpeculiarlylong, sharp toes. Holmes hunted about among the grassandleaveslikearetrieverafterawoundedbird. Then, withacryofsatisfaction,hebentforwardandpicked upalittlebrazencylinder.</s>“Ithoughtso,”saidhe;“therevolverhadanejec- tor, and here is the third cartridge. I really think, InspectorMartin,thatourcaseisalmostcomplete.” The country inspector’s face had shown his in- tenseamazementattherapidandmasterfulprogress of Holmes’s investigation. At first he had shown somedispositiontoasserthisownposition;butnow hewasovercomewithadmirationandreadytofollow withoutquestionwhereverHolmesled.</s>“Whomdoyoususpect?”heasked.</s>“I’llgointothatlater. Thereareseveralpointsin thisproblemwhichIhavenotbeenabletoexplainto youyet. NowthatIhavegotsofarIhadbestproceed onmyownlines,andthenclearthewholematterup onceandforall.” “Justasyouwish,Mr.Holmes,solongasweget ourman.” “Ihavenodesiretomakemysteries,butitisim- possibleatthemomentofactiontoenterintolongand complexexplanations. Ihavethethreadsofthisaffair allinmyhand. Evenifthisladyshouldneverrecover consciousness we can still reconstruct the events of last night and ensure that justice be done. First of all I wish to know whether there is any inn in this neighbourhoodknownas‘Elrige’s’?” The servants were cross-questioned, but none of themhadheardofsuchaplace. Thestable-boythrew alightuponthematterbyrememberingthatafarmer ofthatnamelivedsomemilesoffinthedirectionof EastRuston.</s>“Isitalonelyfarm?” “Verylonely,sir.” “Perhapstheyhavenotheardyetofallthathap- penedhereduringthenight?” “Maybenot,sir.” Holmes thought for a little and then a curious smileplayedoverhisface.</s>“Saddle a horse, my lad,” said he. “I shall wish youtotakeanotetoElrige’sFarm.” He took from his pocket the various slips of the dancingmen. Withtheseinfrontofhimheworked for some time at the study-table. Finally he handed a note to the boy, with directions to put it into the handsofthepersontowhomitwasaddressed,and especiallytoanswernoquestionsofanysortwhich might be put to him. I saw the outside of the note, addressedinstraggling,irregularcharacters,veryun- likeHolmes’susualprecisehand. Itwasconsignedto Mr.AbeSlaney,Elrige’sFarm,EastRuston,Norfolk.</s>“Ithink,inspector,”Holmesremarked,“thatyou would do well to telegraph for an escort, as, if my calculationsprovetobecorrect,youmayhaveapar- ticularlydangerousprisonertoconveytothecounty jail. Theboywhotakesthisnotecouldnodoubtfor- wardyourtelegram. Ifthereisanafternoontrainto town,Watson,Ithinkweshoulddowelltotakeit,as Ihaveachemicalanalysisofsomeinteresttofinish, andthisinvestigationdrawsrapidlytoaclose.” When the youth had been dispatched with the note, Sherlock Holmes gave his instructions to the servants. If any visitor were to call asking for Mrs.</s>Hilton Cubitt no information should be given as to her condition, but he was to be shown at once into thedrawing-room. Heimpressedthesepointsupon themwiththeutmostearnestness. Finallyheledthe wayintothedrawing-roomwiththeremarkthatthe businesswasnowoutofourhands,andthatwemust whileawaythetimeasbestwemightuntilwecould seewhatwasinstoreforus. Thedoctorhaddeparted to his patients, and only the inspector and myself remained.</s>“I think that I can help you to pass an hour in aninterestingandprofitablemanner,”saidHolmes, drawinghischairuptothetableandspreadingout infrontofhimthevariouspapersuponwhichwere recordedtheanticsofthedancingmen. “Astoyou, friend Watson, I owe you every atonement for hav- ingallowedyournaturalcuriositytoremainsolong unsatisfied. To you, inspector, the whole incident may appeal as a remarkable professional study. I musttellyoufirstofalltheinterestingcircumstances connectedwiththepreviousconsultationswhichMr.</s>Hilton Cubitt has had with me in Baker Street.” He then shortly recapitulated the facts which have al- readybeenrecorded. “Ihavehereinfrontofmethese singularproductions,atwhichonemightsmilehad they not proved themselves to be the fore-runners of so terrible a tragedy. I am fairly familiar with all forms of secret writings, and am myself the author ofatriflingmonographuponthesubject,inwhichI analyzeonehundredandsixtyseparateciphers;but Iconfessthatthisisentirelynewtome. Theobjectof thosewhoinventedthesystemhasapparentlybeen to conceal that these characters convey a message, and to give the idea that they are the mere random sketchesofchildren.</s>“Havingoncerecognised,however,thatthesym- bols stood for letters, and having applied the ruleswhichguideusinallformsofsecretwritings,theso- lutionwaseasyenough. Thefirstmessagesubmitted to me was so short that it was impossible for me to do more than to say with some confidence that the symbol stoodforE.Asyouareaware,Eisthemostcom- mon letter in the English alphabet, and it predom- inates to so marked an extent that even in a short sentenceonewouldexpecttofinditmostoften. Out offifteensymbolsinthefirstmessagefourwerethe same, so it was reasonable to set this down as E. It is true that in some cases the figure was bearing a flagandinsomecasesnot,butitwasprobablefrom thewayinwhichtheflagsweredistributedthatthey were used to break the sentence up into words. I accepted this as a hypothesis, and noted that E was representedby “But now came the real difficulty of the inquiry.</s>TheorderoftheEnglishlettersafterEisbynomeans wellmarked,andanypreponderancewhichmaybe shown in an average of a printed sheet may be re- versedinasingleshortsentence. Speakingroughly,T, A,O,I,N,S,H,R,D,andLarethenumericalorderin whichlettersoccur;butT,A,O,andIareverynearly abreastofeachother,anditwouldbeanendlesstask totryeachcombinationuntilameaningwasarrived at. I,therefore, waitedforfreshmaterial. Inmysec- ondinterviewwithMr.HiltonCubitthewasableto givemetwoothershortsentencesandonemessage, which appeared—since there was no flag—to be a singleword. Herearethesymbols. Now,inthesingle word I have already got the two E’s coming second andfourthinawordoffiveletters. Itmightbe‘sever,’ or‘lever,’or‘never.’ Therecanbenoquestionthatthe latterasareplytoanappealisfarthemostprobable, and the circumstances pointed to its being a reply written by the lady. Accepting it as correct, we are nowabletosaythatthesymbols standrespectivelyforN,V,andR.</s>“EvennowIwasinconsiderabledifficulty,buta happythoughtputmeinpossessionofseveralother letters. Itoccurred to me that iftheseappeals came, asIexpected,fromsomeonewhohadbeenintimate with the lady in her early life, a combination which contained two E’s with three letters between might verywellstandforthename‘ELSIE.’Onexamination Ifoundthatsuchacombinationformedthetermina- tionofthemessagewhichwasthreetimesrepeated.</s>It was certainly some appeal to ‘Elsie.’ In this way I had got my L, S, and I. But what appeal could it be? There were only four letters in the word which preceded ‘Elsie,’ and it ended in E. Surely the word mustbe‘COME.’Itriedallotherfourlettersending in E, but could find none to fit the case. So now I wasinpossessionofC,O,andM,andIwasinaposi- tiontoattackthefirstmessageoncemore,dividingit intowordsandputtingdotsforeachsymbolwhich was still unknown. So treated it worked out in this fashion: .M.ERE..ESL.NE.</s>“Now the first letter can only be A, which is a most usefuldiscovery,sinceitoccursnofewerthanthree timesinthisshortsentence,andtheHisalsoapparent inthesecondword. Nowitbecomes:— AMHEREA.ESLANE.</s>Or,fillingintheobviousvacanciesinthename:— AMHEREABESLANEY.</s>IhadsomanylettersnowthatIcouldproceedwith considerableconfidencetothesecondmessage,which workedoutinthisfashion:— A.ELRI.ES.</s>HereIcouldonlymakesensebyputtingTandGfor themissingletters,andsupposingthatthenamewas that of some house or inn at which the writer was staying.” Inspector Martin and I had listened with the ut- most interest to the full and clear account of how myfriendhadproducedresultswhichhadledtoso completeacommandoverourdifficulties.</s>“Whatdidyoudothen,sir?”askedtheinspector.</s>“I had every reason to suppose that this Abe Slaney was an American, since Abe is an American contraction,andsincealetterfromAmericahadbeen thestarting-pointofallthetrouble. Ihadalsoevery cause to think that there was some criminal secret in the matter. The lady’s allusions to her past and her refusal to take her husband into her confidence both pointed in that direction. I therefore cabled to myfriend,WilsonHargreave,oftheNewYorkPolice Bureau, who has more than once made use of my knowledge of London crime. I asked him whether thenameofAbeSlaneywasknowntohim. Hereis hisreply: ‘ThemostdangerouscrookinChicago.’ On theveryeveninguponwhichIhadhisanswerHilton CubittsentmethelastmessagefromSlaney. Working withknownlettersittookthisform:— ELSIE.RE.ARETOMEETTHYGO.The addition of a P and a D completed a message which showed me that the rascal was proceeding frompersuasiontothreats,andmyknowledgeofthe crooksofChicagopreparedmetofindthathemight veryrapidlyputhiswordsintoaction. Iatoncecame toNorfolkwithmyfriendandcolleague,Dr.Watson, but,unhappily,onlyintimetofindthattheworsthad alreadyoccurred.” “Itisaprivilegetobeassociatedwithyouinthe handlingofacase,”saidtheinspector,warmly. “You will excuse me, however, if I speak frankly to you.</s>You are only answerable to yourself, but I have to answertomysuperiors. IfthisAbeSlaney,livingat Elrige’s,isindeedthemurderer,andifhehasmade hisescapewhileIamseatedhere,Ishouldcertainly getintoserioustrouble.” “You need not be uneasy. He will not try to es- cape.” “Howdoyouknow?” “Toflywouldbeaconfessionofguilt.” “Thenletusgotoarresthim.” “Iexpecthimhereeveryinstant.” “Butwhyshouldhecome?” “BecauseIhavewrittenandaskedhim.” “Butthisisincredible,Mr.Holmes! Whyshould he come because you have asked him? Would not sucharequestratherrousehissuspicionsandcause himtofly?” “I think I have known how to frame the letter,” saidSherlockHolmes. “Infact,ifIamnotverymuch mistaken, here is the gentleman himself coming up thedrive.” Amanwasstridingupthepathwhichledtothe door. Hewasatall,handsome,swarthyfellow,clad inasuitofgreyflannel,withaPanamahat,abristling blackbeard,andagreat,aggressivehookednose,and flourishingacaneashewalked. Heswaggeredupthe path as if the place belonged to him, and we heard hisloud,confidentpealatthebell.</s>“Ithink,gentlemen,”saidHolmes,quietly,“that wehadbesttakeupourpositionbehindthedoor. Ev- eryprecautionisnecessarywhendealingwithsucha fellow. Youwillneedyourhandcuffs,inspector. You canleavethetalkingtome.” We waited in silence for a minute—one of those minutes which one can never forget. Then the door openedandthemansteppedin. InaninstantHolmes clapped a pistol to his head and Martin slipped the handcuffs over his wrists. It was all done so swiftly anddeftlythatthefellowwashelplessbeforeheknew thathewasattacked. Heglaredfromonetotheother ofuswithapairofblazingblackeyes. Thenheburst intoabitterlaugh.</s>“Well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time. Iseemtohaveknockedupagainstsomething hard. ButIcamehereinanswertoaletterfromMrs.</s>HiltonCubitt. Don’ttellmethatsheisinthis? Don’t tellmethatshehelpedtosetatrapforme?” “Mrs.HiltonCubittwasseriouslyinjuredandis atdeath’sdoor.” The man gave a hoarse cry of grief which rang throughthehouse.</s>“You’recrazy!”hecried,fiercely. “Itwashethat washurt,notshe. WhowouldhavehurtlittleElsie? I mayhavethreatenedher,Godforgiveme,butIwould not have touched a hair of her pretty head. Take it back—you! Saythatsheisnothurt!” “Shewasfoundbadlywoundedbythesideofher deadhusband.” He sank with a deep groan on to the settee and buriedhisfaceinhismanacledhands. Forfivemin- uteshewassilent. Thenheraisedhisfaceoncemore, andspokewiththecoldcomposureofdespair.</s>“I have nothing to hide from you, gentlemen,” saidhe. “IfIshotthemanhehadhisshotatme,and there’s no murder in that. But if you think I could have hurt that woman, then you don’t know either me or her. I tell you there was never a man in this worldlovedawomanmorethanIlovedher. Ihada righttoher. Shewaspledgedtomeyearsago. Who was this Englishman that he should come between us? ItellyouthatIhadthefirstrighttoher,andthat Iwasonlyclaimingmyown.” “She broke away from your influence when she found the man that you are,” said Holmes, sternly.</s>“ShefledfromAmericatoavoidyou,andshemarried an honourable gentleman in England. You dogged her and followed her and made her life a misery to her in order to induce her to abandon the husband whom she loved and respected in order to fly with you,whomshefearedandhated. Youhaveendedby bringingaboutthedeathofanoblemananddriving his wife to suicide. That is your record in this busi- ness,Mr.AbeSlaney,andyouwillanswerforittothe law.” “IfElsiediesIcarenothingwhatbecomesofme,” saidtheAmerican. Heopenedoneofhishandsand lookedatanotecrumpledupinhispalm. “Seehere, mister,” he cried, with a gleam of suspicion in his eyes, “you’re not trying to scare me over this, are you? Iftheladyishurtasbadasyousay,whowasitthatwrotethisnote?”Hetosseditforwardsontothe table.</s>“Iwroteittobringyouhere.” “Youwroteit? Therewasnooneonearthoutside the Joint who knew the secret of the dancing men.</s>Howcameyoutowriteit?” “Whatonemancaninventanothercandiscover,” said Holmes. “There is a cab coming to convey you to Norwich, Mr. Slaney. But, meanwhile, you have time to make some small reparation for the injury you have wrought. Are you aware that Mrs. Hilton Cubitt has herself lain under grave suspicion of the murderofherhusband,andthatitwasonlymypres- ence here and the knowledge which I happened to possesswhichhassavedherfromtheaccusation? The leastthatyouoweheristomakeitcleartothewhole world that she was in no way, directly or indirectly, responsibleforhistragicend.” “Iasknothingbetter,”saidtheAmerican. “Iguess theverybestcaseIcanmakeformyselfistheabsolute nakedtruth.” “It is my duty to warn you that it will be used againstyou,”criedtheinspector,withthemagnificent fair-playoftheBritishcriminallaw.</s>Slaneyshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“I’llchancethat,”saidhe. “Firstofall,Iwantyou gentlementounderstandthatIhaveknownthislady since she was a child. There were seven of us in a gang in Chicago, and Elsie’s father was the boss of the Joint. He was a clever man, was old Patrick. It washewhoinventedthatwriting,whichwouldpass asachild’sscrawlunlessyoujusthappenedtohave the key to it. Well, Elsie learned some of our ways; butshecouldn’tstandthebusiness,andshehadabit of honest money of her own, so she gave us all the slipandgotawaytoLondon. Shehadbeenengaged to me, and she would have married me, I believe, if I had taken over another profession; but she would havenothingtodowithanythingonthecross. Itwas onlyafterhermarriagetothisEnglishmanthatIwas able to find out where she was. I wrote to her, but gotnoanswer. AfterthatIcameover,and,asletters werenouse,Iputmymessageswhereshecouldread them.</s>“Well, I have been here a month now. I lived in thatfarm,whereIhadaroomdownbelow,andcould get in and out every night, and no one the wiser. I tried all I could to coax Elsie away. I knew that she readthemessages,foronceshewroteananswerun- deroneofthem. Thenmytempergotthebetterofme, andIbegantothreatenher. Shesentmealetterthen, imploring me to go away and saying that it would breakherheartifanyscandalshouldcomeuponher husband. Shesaidthatshewouldcomedownwhen herhusbandwasasleepatthreeinthemorning,and speak with me through the end window, if I would goawayafterwardsandleaveherinpeace. Shecame down and brought money with her, trying to bribe metogo. Thismadememad,andIcaughtherarm and tried to pull her through the window. At that momentinrushedthehusbandwithhisrevolverin his hand. Elsie had sunk down upon the floor, and we were face to face. I was heeled also, and I held upmyguntoscarehimoffandletmegetaway. He firedandmissedme. Ipulledoffalmostatthesame instant, and down he dropped. I made away across thegarden,andasIwentIheardthewindowshutbe- hindme. That’sGod’struth,gentlemen,everyword ofit,andIheardnomoreaboutituntilthatladcame riding up with a note which made me walk in here, likeajay,andgivemyselfintoyourhands.” A cab had driven up whilst the American had been talking. Two uniformed policemen sat inside.</s>InspectorMartinroseandtouchedhisprisoneronthe shoulder.</s>“Itistimeforustogo.” “CanIseeherfirst?” “No,sheisnotconscious. Mr.SherlockHolmes,I onlyhopethatifeveragainIhaveanimportantcaseI shallhavethegoodfortunetohaveyoubymyside.” We stood at the window and watched the cab driveaway. AsIturnedbackmyeyecaughtthepellet ofpaperwhichtheprisonerhadtosseduponthetable.</s>ItwasthenotewithwhichHolmeshaddecoyedhim.</s>“See if you can read it, Watson,” said he, with a smile.</s>Itcontainednoword,butthislittlelineofdancing men:— “IfyouusethecodewhichIhaveexplained,”said Holmes, “you will find that it simply means ‘Come hereatonce.’ Iwasconvincedthatitwasaninvitation whichhewouldnotrefuse,sincehecouldneverimag- inethatitcouldcomefromanyonebutthelady. And so, my dear Watson, we have ended by turning the dancingmentogoodwhentheyhavesooftenbeen theagentsofevil,andIthinkthatIhavefulfilledmy promise of giving you something unusual for your note-book. Three-forty is our train, and I fancy we shouldbebackinBakerStreetfordinner.”Only one word of epilogue. The American, Abe Slaney, was condemned to death at the winter as- sizes at Norwich; but his penalty was changed to penalservitudeinconsiderationofmitigatingcircum- stances,andthecertaintythatHiltonCubitthadfired thefirstshot. OfMrs.HiltonCubittIonlyknowthat Ihaveheardsherecoveredentirely,andthatshestill remainsawidow,devotingherwholelifetothecare ofthepoorandtotheadministrationofherhusband’s estate.rom the years 1894 to 1901 inclusive Mr.</s>SherlockHolmeswasaverybusyman. It issafetosaythattherewasnopubliccase F of any difficulty in which he was not con- sultedduringthoseeightyears,andtherewerehun- dredsofprivatecases,someofthemofthemostintri- cateandextraordinarycharacter,inwhichheplayed aprominentpart. Manystartlingsuccessesandafew unavoidable failures were the outcome of this long periodofcontinuouswork. AsIhavepreservedvery fullnotesofallthesecases,andwasmyselfpersonally engagedinmanyofthem,itmaybeimaginedthatit is no easy task to know which I should select to lay before the public. I shall, however, preserve my for- merrule,andgivethepreferencetothosecaseswhich derivetheirinterestnotsomuchfromthebrutalityof thecrimeasfromtheingenuityanddramaticquality ofthesolution. ForthisreasonIwillnowlaybefore thereaderthefactsconnectedwithMissVioletSmith, the solitary cyclist of Charlington, and the curious sequelofourinvestigation,whichculminatedinun- expectedtragedy. Itistruethatthecircumstancesdid not admit of any striking illustration of those pow- ersforwhichmyfriendwasfamous,buttherewere somepointsaboutthecasewhichmadeitstandout in those long records of crime from which I gather thematerialfortheselittlenarratives.</s>Onreferringtomynote-bookfortheyear1895I findthatitwasuponSaturday,the23rdofApril,that we first heard of Miss Violet Smith. Her visit was, I remember, extremely unwelcome to Holmes, for he wasimmersedatthemomentinaveryabstruseand complicatedproblemconcerningthepeculiarperse- cutiontowhichJohnVincentHarden,thewell-known tobacco millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, wholovedaboveallthingsprecisionandconcentra- tionofthought,resentedanythingwhichdistracted hisattentionfromthematterinhand. Andyetwith- outaharshnesswhichwasforeigntohisnatureitwas impossibletorefusetolistentothestoryoftheyoung andbeautifulwoman,tall,graceful,andqueenly,who presented herself at Baker Street late in the evening andimploredhisassistanceandadvice. Itwasvain tourgethathistimewasalreadyfullyoccupied,for theyoungladyhadcomewiththedeterminationto tell her story, and it was evident that nothing short of force could get her out of the room until she had doneso. Witharesignedairandasomewhatweary smile,Holmesbeggedthebeautifulintrudertotakea seatandtoinformuswhatitwasthatwastroubling her.</s>“Atleastitcannotbeyourhealth,”saidhe,ashis keeneyesdartedoverher;“soardentabicyclistmust befullofenergy.” Sheglanceddowninsurpriseatherownfeet,and I observed the slight roughening of the side of the solecausedbythefrictionoftheedgeofthepedal.</s>“Yes,Ibicycleagooddeal,Mr.Holmes,andthat hassomethingtodowithmyvisittoyouto-day.” My friend took the lady’s ungloved hand and examined it with as close an attention and as little sentimentasascientistwouldshowtoaspecimen.</s>“You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my busi- ness,” said he, as he dropped it. “I nearly fell into theerrorofsupposingthatyouweretypewriting. Of course, it is obvious that it is music. You observe the spatulate finger-end, Watson, which is common to both professions? There is a spirituality about theface,however”—hegentlyturnedittowardsthe light—“whichthetypewriterdoesnotgenerate. This ladyisamusician.” “Yes,Mr.Holmes,Iteachmusic.” “In the country, I presume, from your complex- ion.” “Yes,sir;nearFarnham,onthebordersofSurrey.” “Abeautifulneighbourhoodandfullofthemost interestingassociations. Youremember,Watson,that it was near there that we took Archie Stamford, the forger. Now,MissViolet,whathashappenedtoyou nearFarnham,onthebordersofSurrey?” Theyounglady,withgreatclearnessandcompo- sure,madethefollowingcuriousstatement:— “My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith,whoconductedtheorchestraattheoldImpe- rial Theatre. My mother and I were left without a relationintheworldexceptoneuncle,RalphSmith, who went to Africa twenty-five years ago, and we haveneverhadawordfromhimsince. Whenfather diedwewereleftverypoor,butonedayweweretold thattherewasanadvertisementintheTimesinquiring for our whereabouts. You can imagine how excited we were, for we thought that someone had left us a fortune. Wewentatoncetothelawyerwhosename wasgiveninthepaper. Therewemettwogentlemen, Mr.CarruthersandMr.Woodley,whowerehomeon avisitfromSouthAfrica. Theysaidthatmyunclewas afriendoftheirs,thathediedsomemonthsbeforein greatpovertyinJohannesburg,andthathehadasked themwithhislastbreathtohuntuphisrelationsand seethattheywereinnowant. Itseemedstrangetous thatUncleRalph,whotooknonoticeofuswhenhe wasalive,shouldbesocarefultolookafteruswhen he was dead; but Mr. Carruthers explained that thereasonwasthatmyunclehadjustheardofthedeath ofhisbrother,andsofeltresponsibleforourfate.” “Excuseme,”saidHolmes;“whenwasthisinter- view?” “LastDecember—fourmonthsago.” “Prayproceed.” “Mr.Woodleyseemedtometobeamostodious person. Hewasforevermakingeyesatme—acoarse, puffy-faced, red-moustached young man, with his hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I thoughtthathewasperfectlyhateful—andIwassure thatCyrilwouldnotwishmetoknowsuchaperson.” “Oh,Cyrilishisname!”saidHolmes,smiling.</s>Theyoungladyblushedandlaughed.</s>“Yes,Mr.Holmes;CyrilMorton,anelectricalen- gineer, and we hope to be married at the end of the summer. Dear me, how did I get talking about him? WhatIwishedtosaywasthatMr.Woodleywasper- fectly odious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who was a mucholderman,wasmoreagreeable. Hewasadark, sallow,clean-shaven,silentperson;buthehadpolite mannersandapleasantsmile. Heinquiredhowwe wereleft,andonfindingthatwewereverypoorhe suggestedthatIshouldcomeandteachmusictohis onlydaughter, agedten. IsaidthatIdidnotliketo leavemymother,onwhichhesuggestedthatIshould go home to her every week-end, and he offered me ahundredayear,whichwascertainlysplendidpay.</s>So it ended by my accepting, and I went down to ChilternGrange,aboutsixmilesfromFarnham. Mr.</s>Carruthers was a widower, but he had engaged a lady-housekeeper,averyrespectable,elderlyperson, calledMrs.Dixon,tolookafterhisestablishment. The childwasadear,andeverythingpromisedwell. Mr.</s>Carrutherswasverykindandverymusical,andwe hadmostpleasanteveningstogether. Everyweek-end Iwenthometomymotherintown.</s>“Thefirstflawinmyhappinesswasthearrivalof thered-moustachedMr.Woodley. Hecameforavisit ofaweek,andoh,itseemedthreemonthstome! He wasadreadfulperson,abullytoeveryoneelse,butto mesomethinginfinitelyworse. Hemadeodiouslove to me, boasted of his wealth, said that if I married himIwouldhavethefinestdiamondsinLondon,and finally,whenIwouldhavenothingtodowithhim,he seizedmeinhisarmsonedayafterdinner—hewas hideouslystrong—andhesworethathewouldnotlet megountilIhadkissedhim. Mr.Carrutherscamein andtorehimofffromme,onwhichheturnedupon his own host, knocking him down and cutting his face open. That was the end of his visit, as you can imagine. Mr.Carruthersapologizedtomenextday, and assured me that I should never be exposed to such an insult again. I have not seen Mr. Woodley since.</s>“Andnow,Mr.Holmes,Icomeatlasttothespe- cial thing which has caused me to ask your advice to-day. YoumustknowthateverySaturdayforenoon I ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station in order to getthe12.22totown. TheroadfromChilternGrange is a lonely one, and at one spot it is particularly so, foritliesforoveramilebetweenCharlingtonHeath upononesideandthewoodswhichlieroundChar- lington Hall upon the other. You could not find a more lonely tract of road anywhere, and it is quite raretomeetsomuchasacart,orapeasant,untilyou reachthehighroadnearCrooksburyHill. Twoweeks agoIwaspassingthisplacewhenIchancedtolook backovermyshoulder,andabouttwohundredyards behindmeIsawaman,alsoonabicycle. Heseemed tobeamiddle-agedman,withashort,darkbeard. I lookedbackbeforeIreachedFarnham,buttheman wasgone,soIthoughtnomoreaboutit. Butyoucan imaginehowsurprisedIwas,Mr.Holmes,whenon myreturnontheMondayIsawthesamemanonthe samestretchofroad. Myastonishmentwasincreased whentheincidentoccurredagain,exactlyasbefore, on the following Saturday and Monday. He always kepthisdistanceanddidnotmolestmeinanyway, but still it certainly was very odd. I mentioned it to Mr.Carruthers,whoseemedinterestedinwhatIsaid, and told me that he had ordered a horse and trap, so that in future I should not pass over these lonely roadswithoutsomecompanion.</s>“Thehorseandtrapweretohavecomethisweek, but for some reason they were not delivered, and againIhadtocycletothestation. Thatwasthismorn- ing. YoucanthinkthatIlookedoutwhenIcameto CharlingtonHeath,andthere,sureenough,wasthe man, exactly as he had been the two weeks before.</s>HealwayskeptsofarfrommethatIcouldnotclearly seehisface,butitwascertainlysomeonewhomIdid notknow. Hewasdressedinadarksuitwithacloth cap. TheonlythingabouthisfacethatIcouldclearly seewashisdarkbeard. To-dayIwasnotalarmed,but I was filled with curiosity, and I determined to find outwhohewasandwhathewanted. Isloweddown mymachine,buthesloweddownhis. ThenIstopped altogether,buthestoppedalso. ThenIlaidatrapfor him. Thereisasharpturningoftheroad,andIped- alledveryquicklyroundthis,andthenIstoppedand waited. Iexpectedhimtoshootroundandpassme beforehecouldstop. Butheneverappeared. ThenIwentbackandlookedroundthecorner. Icouldsee a mile of road, but he was not on it. To make it the more extraordinary, there was no side road at this pointdownwhichhecouldhavegone.” Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. “This casecertainlypresentssomefeaturesofitsown,”said he. “How much time elapsed between your turn- ingthecornerandyourdiscoverythattheroadwas clear?” “Twoorthreeminutes.” “Thenhecouldnothaveretreateddowntheroad, andyousaythattherearenosideroads?” “None.” “Thenhecertainlytookafootpathononesideor theother.” “Itcouldnothavebeenonthesideoftheheathor Ishouldhaveseenhim.” “So by the process of exclusion we arrive at the factthathemadehiswaytowardsCharlingtonHall, which,asIunderstand,issituatedinitsowngrounds ononesideoftheroad. Anythingelse?” “Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so per- plexed that I felt I should not be happy until I had seenyouandhadyouradvice.” Holmessatinsilenceforsomelittletime.</s>“Where is the gentleman to whom you are en- gaged?”heasked,atlast.</s>“He is in the Midland Electrical Company, at Coventry.” “Hewouldnotpayyouasurprisevisit?” “Oh,Mr.Holmes! AsifIshouldnotknowhim!” “Haveyouhadanyotheradmirers?” “SeveralbeforeIknewCyril.” “Andsince?” “Therewasthisdreadfulman,Woodley,ifyoucan callhimanadmirer.” “Nooneelse?” Ourfairclientseemedalittleconfused.</s>“Whowashe?”askedHolmes.</s>“Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it has seemedtomesometimesthatmyemployer,Mr.Car- ruthers, takes a great deal of interest in me. We are thrown rather together. I play his accompaniments in the evening. He has never said anything. He is a perfectgentleman. Butagirlalwaysknows.” “Ha!” Holmes looked grave. “What does he do foraliving?” “Heisarichman.” “Nocarriagesorhorses?” “Well,atleastheisfairlywell-to-do. Buthegoes intotheCitytwoorthreetimesaweek. Heisdeeply interestedinSouthAfricangoldshares.” “You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am very busy just now, but I will find time to make some inquiries into your case. In themeantimetakenostepwithoutlettingmeknow.</s>Good-bye,andItrustthatweshallhavenothingbut goodnewsfromyou.” “ItispartofthesettledorderofNaturethatsucha girlshouldhavefollowers,”saidHolmes,ashepulled athismeditativepipe,“butforchoicenotonbicycles inlonelycountryroads. Somesecretivelover,beyond alldoubt. Buttherearecuriousandsuggestivedetails aboutthecase,Watson.” “Thatheshouldappearonlyatthatpoint?” “Exactly. Ourfirsteffortmustbetofindwhoare the tenants of Charlington Hall. Then, again, how abouttheconnectionbetweenCarruthersandWood- ley, since they appear to be men of such a different type? How came they both to be so keen upon look- ing up Ralph Smith’s relations? One more point.</s>What sort of a menage is it which pays double the market price for a governess, but does not keep a horsealthoughsixmilesfromthestation? Odd,Wat- son—veryodd!” “Youwillgodown?” “No,mydearfellow,youwillgodown. Thismay besometriflingintrigue,andIcannotbreakmyother importantresearchforthesakeofit. OnMondayyou willarriveearlyatFarnham;youwillconcealyourself nearCharlingtonHeath;youwillobservethesefacts foryourself, andactasyourownjudgmentadvises.</s>Then,havinginquiredastotheoccupantsoftheHall, youwillcomebacktomeandreport. Andnow,Wat- son,notanotherwordofthematteruntilwehavea fewsolidstepping-stonesonwhichwemayhopeto getacrosstooursolution.” We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday by the train which leaves Waterloo at 9.50, so I started early and caught the 9.13. AtFarnhamStationIhadnodifficultyinbeing directedtoCharlingtonHeath. Itwasimpossibleto mistakethesceneoftheyounglady’sadventure,for theroadrunsbetweentheopenheathononesideand anoldyewhedgeupontheother,surroundingapark whichisstuddedwithmagnificenttrees. Therewasa maingatewayoflichen-studdedstone,eachsidepil- larsurmountedbymoulderingheraldicemblems;but besidesthiscentralcarriagedriveIobservedseveralpointswherethereweregapsinthehedgeandpaths leadingthroughthem. Thehousewasinvisiblefrom the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom anddecay.</s>The heath was covered with golden patches of floweringgorse,gleamingmagnificentlyinthelight of the bright spring sunshine. Behind one of these clumps I took up my position, so as to command boththegatewayoftheHallandalongstretchofthe road upon either side. It had been deserted when I left it, but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the opposite direction to that in which I had come.</s>He was clad in a dark suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of the Charling- ton grounds he sprang from his machine and led it through a gap in the hedge, disappearing from my view.</s>A quarter of an hour passed and then a second cyclist appeared. This time it was the young lady comingfromthestation. Isawherlookaboutheras shecametotheCharlingtonhedge. Aninstantlater themanemergedfromhishiding-place,sprangupon hiscycle,andfollowedher. Inallthebroadlandscape thoseweretheonlymovingfigures,thegracefulgirl sittingverystraightuponhermachine,andtheman behind her bending low over his handle-bar, with a curiouslyfurtivesuggestionineverymovement. She lookedbackathimandslowedherpace. Heslowed also. She stopped. He at once stopped too, keeping twohundredyardsbehindher. Hernextmovement was as unexpected as it was spirited. She suddenly whisked her wheels round and dashed straight at him! Hewasasquickasshe,however,anddartedoff in desperate flight. Presently she came back up the roadagain,herheadhaughtilyintheair,notdeigning totakeanyfurthernoticeofhersilentattendant. He hadturnedalso,andstillkepthisdistanceuntilthe curveoftheroadhidthemfrommysight.</s>I remained in my hiding-place, and it was well that I did so, for presently the man reappeared cy- clingslowlyback. HeturnedinattheHallgatesand dismountedfromhismachine. Forsomefewminutes Icouldseehimstandingamongthetrees. Hishands were raised and he seemed to be settling his neck- tie. Thenhemountedhiscycleandrodeawayfrom me down the drive towards the Hall. I ran across the heath and peered through the trees. Far away I couldcatchglimpsesoftheoldgreybuildingwithits bristlingTudorchimneys,butthedriveranthrougha denseshrubbery,andIsawnomoreofmyman.</s>However,itseemedtomethatIhaddoneafairly goodmorning’swork,andIwalkedbackinhighspir- itstoFarnham. Thelocalhouse-agentcouldtellme nothingaboutCharlingtonHall,andreferredmetoa well-known firm in Pall Mall. There I halted on my wayhome,andmetwithcourtesyfromtherepresen- tative. No,IcouldnothaveCharlingtonHallforthe summer. I was just too late. It had been let about a month ago. Mr. Williamson was the name of the tenant. Hewasarespectableelderlygentleman. The politeagentwasafraidhecouldsaynomore,asthe affairsofhisclientswerenotmatterswhichhecould discuss.</s>Mr.SherlockHolmeslistenedwithattentiontothe long report which I was able to present to him that evening,butitdidnotelicitthatwordofcurtpraise which I had hoped for and should have valued. On the contrary, his austere face was even more severe than usual as he commented upon the things that I haddoneandthethingsthatIhadnot.</s>“Your hiding-place, my dear Watson, was very faulty. Youshouldhavebeenbehindthehedge;then you would have had a close view of this interesting person. As it is you were some hundreds of yards away,andcantellmeevenlessthanMissSmith. She thinks she does not know the man; I am convinced she does. Why, otherwise, should he be so desper- ately anxious that she should not get so near him as to see his features? You describe him as bending overthehandle-bar. Concealmentagain,yousee. You reallyhavedoneremarkablybadly. Hereturnstothe houseandyouwanttofindoutwhoheis. Youcome toaLondonhouse-agent!” “What should I have done?” I cried, with some heat.</s>“Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centreofcountrygossip. Theywouldhavetoldyou every name, from the master to the scullery-maid.</s>Williamson! Itconveysnothingtomymind. Ifheis anelderlymanheisnotthisactivecyclistwhosprints away from that athletic young lady’s pursuit. What havewegainedbyyourexpedition? Theknowledge that the girl’s story is true. I never doubted it. That thereisaconnectionbetweenthecyclistandtheHall.</s>Ineverdoubtedthateither. ThattheHallistenanted byWilliamson. Who’sthebetterforthat? Well,well, mydearsir,don’tlooksodepressed. Wecandolittle moreuntilnextSaturday,andinthemeantimeImay makeoneortwoinquiriesmyself.” Next morning we had a note from Miss Smith, recountingshortlyandaccuratelytheveryincidents whichIhadseen,butthepithoftheletterlayinthe postscript:“Iamsurethatyouwillrespectmycon- fidence,Mr.Holmes,whenItellyouthat my place here has become difficult ow- ingtothefactthatmyemployerhaspro- posed marriage to me. I am convinced thathisfeelingsaremostdeepandmost honourable. Atthesametimemypromise is, of course, given. He took my refusal very seriously, but also very gently. You can understand, however, that the situa- tionisalittlestrained.” “Ouryoungfriendseemstobegettingintodeep waters,”saidHolmes,thoughtfully,ashefinishedthe letter. “The case certainly presents more features of interest and more possibility of development than I had originally thought. I should be none the worse for a quiet, peaceful day in the country, and I am inclined to run down this afternoon and test one or twotheorieswhichIhaveformed.” Holmes’s quiet day in the country had a singu- lartermination,forhearrivedatBakerStreetlatein the evening with a cut lip and a discoloured lump uponhisforehead,besidesageneralairofdissipation which would have made his own person the fitting object of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was im- menselytickledbyhisownadventures,andlaughed heartilyasherecountedthem.</s>“I get so little active exercise that it is always a treat,” said he. “You are aware that I have some proficiency in the good old British sport of boxing.</s>Occasionally it is of service. To-day, for example, I shouldhavecometoveryignominiousgriefwithout it.” Ibeggedhimtotellmewhathadoccurred.</s>“I found that country pub which I had already recommended to your notice, and there I made my discreet inquiries. I was in the bar, and a garrulous landlordwasgivingmeallthatIwanted. Williamson is a white-bearded man, and he lives alone with a smallstaffofservantsattheHall. Thereissomeru- mourthatheisorhasbeenaclergyman;butoneor twoincidentsofhisshortresidenceattheHallstruck measpeculiarlyunecclesiastical. Ihavealreadymade some inquiries at a clerical agency, and they tell me that there was a man of that name in orders whose careerhasbeenasingularlydarkone. Thelandlord furtherinformedmethatthereareusuallyweek-end visitors—‘awarmlot,sir’—attheHall,andespecially onegentlemanwitharedmoustache,Mr.Woodleyby name,whowasalwaysthere. Wehadgotasfarasthis whenwhoshouldwalkinbutthegentlemanhimself, whohadbeendrinkinghisbeerinthetap-roomand hadheardthewholeconversation. WhowasI?What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives wereveryvigorous. Heendedastringofabusebya viciousback-handerwhichIfailedtoentirelyavoid.</s>Thenextfewminutesweredelicious. Itwasastraight leftagainstasloggingruffian. Iemergedasyousee me. Mr.Woodleywenthomeinacart. Soendedmy countrytrip,anditmustbeconfessedthat,however enjoyable,mydayontheSurreyborderhasnotbeen muchmoreprofitablethanyourown.” TheThursdaybroughtusanotherletterfromour client.</s>You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes [said she] to hear that I am leaving Mr.</s>Carruthers’semployment. Eventhehigh paycannotreconcilemetothediscomforts of my situation. On Saturday I come up totownandIdonotintendtoreturn. Mr.</s>Carruthershasgotatrap,andsothedan- gersofthelonelyroad,ifthereeverwere anydangers,arenowover.</s>Astothespecialcauseofmyleaving,it is not merely the strained situation with Mr.Carruthers,butitisthereappearance ofthatodiousman,Mr.Woodley. Hewas always hideous, but he looks more aw- fulthanevernow,forheappearstohave had an accident and he is much disfig- ured. I saw him out of the window, but I am glad to say I did not meet him. He hadalongtalkwithMr.Carruthers,who seemed much excited afterwards. Wood- leymustbestayingintheneighbourhood, forhedidnotsleephere,andyetIcaught aglimpseofhimagainthismorningslink- ingaboutintheshrubbery. Iwouldsooner haveasavagewildanimallooseaboutthe place. I loathe and fear him more than I can say. How can Mr. Carruthers endure such a creature for a moment? However, allmytroubleswillbeoveronSaturday.</s>“So I trust, Watson; so I trust,” said Holmes, gravely. “Thereissomedeepintriguegoingonround thatlittlewoman,anditisourdutytoseethatnoone molests her upon that last journey. I think, Watson, thatwemustsparetimetorundowntogetheronSat- urdaymorning,andmakesurethatthiscuriousand inconclusiveinvestigationhasnountowardending.”I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view of the case, which had seemed to me rather grotesque and bizarre than dangerous. That amanshouldlieinwaitforandfollowaveryhand- somewomanisnounheard-ofthing,andifhehadso littleaudacitythathenotonlydarednotaddressher, but even fled from her approach, he was not a very formidableassailant. TheruffianWoodleywasavery differentperson,but,exceptononeoccasion,hehad notmolestedourclient,andnowhevisitedthehouse of Carruthers without intruding upon her presence.</s>The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of thoseweek-endpartiesattheHallofwhichthepubli- canhadspoken;butwhohewasorwhathewanted wasasobscureasever. ItwastheseverityofHolmes’s manner and the fact that he slipped a revolver into hispocketbeforeleavingourroomswhichimpressed mewiththefeelingthattragedymightprovetolurk behindthiscurioustrainofevents.</s>A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the heath-covered country-side with theglowingclumpsoffloweringgorseseemedallthe morebeautifultoeyeswhichwerewearyoftheduns anddrabsandslate-greysofLondon. HolmesandI walkedalongthebroad,sandyroadinhalingthefresh morning air, and rejoicing in the music of the birds andthefreshbreathofthespring. Fromariseofthe roadontheshoulderofCrooksburyHillwecouldsee the grim Hall bristling out from amidst the ancient oaks,which,oldastheywere,werestillyoungerthan thebuildingwhichtheysurrounded. Holmespointed downthelongtractofroadwhichwound,areddish yellow band, between the brown of the heath and the budding green of the woods. Far away, a black dot, we could see a vehicle moving in our direction.</s>Holmesgaveanexclamationofimpatience.</s>“I had given a margin of half an hour,” said he.</s>“Ifthatishertrapshemustbemakingfortheearlier train. Ifear,Watson,thatshewillbepastCharlington beforewecanpossiblymeether.” Fromtheinstantthatwepassedtherisewecould nolongerseethevehicle,butwehastenedonwardsat suchapacethatmysedentarylifebegantotellupon me,andIwascompelledtofallbehind. Holmes,how- ever,wasalwaysintraining,forhehadinexhaustible stores of nervous energy upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed until suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and Isawhimthrowuphishandwithagestureofgrief anddespair. Atthesameinstantanemptydog-cart, thehorsecantering,thereinstrailing,appearedround thecurveoftheroadandrattledswiftlytowardsus.</s>“Toolate,Watson;toolate!”criedHolmes,asIran pantingtohisside. “FoolthatIwasnottoallowfor thatearliertrain! It’sabduction,Watson—abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road! Stop thehorse! That’sright. Now,jumpin,andletussee ifIcanrepairtheconsequencesofmyownblunder.” We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the horse, gave it a sharp cut with the whip,andweflewbackalongtheroad. Asweturned thecurvethewholestretchofroadbetweentheHall and the heath was opened up. I grasped Holmes’s arm.</s>“That’stheman!”Igasped.</s>A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His headwasdownandhisshouldersroundedasheput every ounce of energy that he possessed on to the pedals. Hewasflyinglikearacer. Suddenlyheraised hisbeardedface,sawusclosetohim,andpulledup, springing from his machine. That coal-black beard wasinsingularcontrasttothepallorofhisface,and hiseyeswereasbrightasifhehadafever. Hestared atusandatthedog-cart. Thenalookofamazement cameoverhisface.</s>“Halloa! Stopthere!”heshouted,holdinghisbi- cycle to block our road. “Where did you get that dog-cart? Pullup,man!”heyelled,drawingapistol from his side pocket. “Pull up, I say, or, by George, I’llputabulletintoyourhorse.” Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang downfromthecart.</s>“You’re the man we want to see. Where is Miss VioletSmith?”hesaid,inhisquick,clearway.</s>“That’swhatIamaskingyou. You’reinherdog- cart. Yououghttoknowwheresheis.” “Wemetthedog-cartontheroad. Therewasno oneinit. Wedrovebacktohelptheyounglady.” “GoodLord! GoodLord! whatshallIdo?”cried thestranger,inanecstasyofdespair. “They’vegother, thathellhoundWoodleyandtheblackguardparson.</s>Come,man,come,ifyoureallyareherfriend. Stand bymeandwe’llsaveher,ifIhavetoleavemycarcass inCharlingtonWood.” Herandistractedly,hispistolinhishand,towards a gap in the hedge. Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the horse grazing beside the road, followed Holmes.</s>“Thisiswheretheycamethrough,”saidhe,point- ingtothemarksofseveralfeetuponthemuddypath.</s>“Halloa! Stopaminute! Who’sthisinthebush?” It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed likeanostler,withleathercordsandgaiters. Helayuponhisback,hiskneesdrawnup,aterriblecutupon hishead. Hewasinsensible,butalive. Aglanceathis woundtoldmethatithadnotpenetratedthebone.</s>“That’sPeter,thegroom,”criedthestranger. “He droveher. Thebeastshavepulledhimoffandclubbed him. Lethimlie; wecan’tdohimanygood,butwe may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman.” We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees. We had reached the shrubbery which surrounded the house when Holmes pulled up.</s>“Theydidn’tgotothehouse. Herearetheirmarks ontheleft—here,besidethelaurelbushes! Ah,Isaid so!” As he spoke a woman’s shrill scream—a scream whichvibratedwithafrenzyofhorror—burstfrom the thick green clump of bushes in front of us. It endedsuddenlyonitshighestnotewithachokeand agurgle.</s>“This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley,”criedthestranger,dartingthroughthebushes.</s>“Ah,thecowardlydogs! Followme,gentlemen! Too late! toolate! bythelivingJingo!” We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greenswardsurroundedbyancienttrees. Onthefar- ther side of it, under the shadow of a mighty oak, therestoodasingulargroupofthreepeople. Onewas awoman,ourclient,droopingandfaint,ahandker- chiefroundhermouth. Oppositeherstoodabrutal, heavy-faced,red-moustachedyoungman,hisgaitered legs parted wide, one arm akimbo, the other wav- ing a riding-crop, his whole attitude suggestive of triumphantbravado. Betweenthemanelderly,grey- bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light tweedsuit,hadevidentlyjustcompletedthewedding service, for he pocketed his prayer-book as we ap- pearedandslappedthesinisterbridegroomuponthe backinjovialcongratulation.</s>“They’remarried!”Igasped.</s>“Come on!” cried our guide; “come on!” He rushed across the glade, Holmes and I at his heels.</s>As we approached, the lady staggered against the trunk of the tree for support. Williamson, the ex- clergyman, bowed to us with mock politeness, and the bully Woodley advanced with a shout of brutal andexultantlaughter.</s>“You can take your beard off, Bob,” said he. “I knowyourightenough. Well,youandyourpalshave justcomeintimeformetobeabletointroduceyou toMrs.Woodley.” Our guide’s answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beard which had disguised him and threw it on the ground, disclosing a long, sallow, clean-shaven face below it. Then he raised hisrevolverandcoveredtheyoungruffian,whowas advancinguponhimwithhisdangerousriding-crop swinginginhishand.</s>“Yes,”saidourally,“IamBobCarruthers,andI’ll seethiswomanrightedifIhavetoswingforit. Itold youwhatI’ddoifyoumolestedher,and,bytheLord, I’llbeasgoodasmyword!” “You’retoolate. She’smywife!” “No,she’syourwidow.” His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt fromthefrontofWoodley’swaistcoat. Hespunround withascreamandfelluponhisback,hishideousred face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor.</s>Theoldman,stillcladinhissurplice,burstintosuch astringoffouloathsasIhaveneverheard,andpulled outarevolverofhisown,butbeforehecouldraiseit hewaslookingdownthebarrelofHolmes’sweapon.</s>“Enough of this,” said my friend, coldly. “Drop that pistol! Watson, pick it up! Hold it to his head! Thank you. You, Carruthers, give me that revolver.</s>We’llhavenomoreviolence. Come,handitover!” “Whoareyou,then?” “MynameisSherlockHolmes.” “GoodLord!” “You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official police until their arrival. Here, you!” he shoutedtoafrightenedgroomwhohadappearedat theedgeoftheglade. “Comehere. Takethisnoteas hardasyoucanridetoFarnham.”Hescribbledafew wordsuponaleaffromhisnote-book. “Giveittothe superintendentatthepolice-station. UntilhecomesI mustdetainyouallundermypersonalcustody.” Thestrong,masterfulpersonalityofHolmesdom- inatedthetragicscene,andallwereequallypuppets inhishands. WilliamsonandCarruthersfoundthem- selvescarryingthewoundedWoodleyintothehouse, andIgavemyarmtothefrightenedgirl. Theinjured man was laid on his bed, and at Holmes’s request I examined him. I carried my report to where he sat in the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisonersbeforehim.</s>“Hewilllive,”saidI.</s>“What!” cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. “I’llgoupstairsandfinishhimfirst. Doyoutell me that that girl, that angel, is to be tied to Roaring JackWoodleyforlife?”“Youneednotconcernyourselfaboutthat,”said Holmes. “There are two very good reasons why she should under no circumstances be his wife. In the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr.</s>Williamson’srighttosolemnizeamarriage.” “Ihavebeenordained,”criedtheoldrascal.</s>“Andalsounfrocked.” “Onceaclergyman,alwaysaclergyman.” “Ithinknot. Howaboutthelicense?” “Wehadalicenseforthemarriage. Ihaveithere inmypocket.” “Then you got it by a trick. But in any case a forced marriage is no marriage, but it is a very se- rious felony, as you will discover before you have finished. You’llhavetimetothinkthepointoutdur- ingthenexttenyearsorso,unlessIammistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you would have done better to keepyourpistolinyourpocket.” “I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all the precaution I had taken to shield this girl—for I loved her, Mr. Holmes, and it is the only time that ever I knew what love was—it fairly drovememadtothinkthatshewasinthepowerof the greatest brute and bully in South Africa, a man whosenameisaholyterrorfromKimberleytoJohan- nesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you’ll hardly believe it, buteversincethatgirlhasbeeninmyemploymentI never once let her go past this house, where I knew theserascalswerelurking,withoutfollowingheron my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I keptmydistancefromher,andIworeabeardsothat she should not recognise me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn’t have stayed in my employment long if she had thought that I was followingheraboutthecountryroads.” “Whydidn’tyoutellherofherdanger?” “Becausethen,again,shewouldhaveleftme,and Icouldn’tbeartofacethat. Evenifshecouldn’tlove me it was a great deal to me just to see her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of her voice.” “Well,”saidI,“youcallthatlove,Mr.Carruthers, butIshouldcallitselfishness.” “Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn’tlethergo. Besides,withthiscrowdabout,it waswellthatsheshouldhavesomeoneneartolook afterher. ThenwhenthecablecameIknewtheywere boundtomakeamove.” “Whatcable?” Carrutherstookatelegramfromhispocket.</s>“That’sit,”saidhe.</s>Itwasshortandconcise: Theoldmanisdead.</s>“Hum!” said Holmes. “I think I see how things worked, and I can understand how this message would, as you say, bring them to a head. But while wewaityoumighttellmewhatyoucan.” The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volleyofbadlanguage.</s>“By Heaven,” said he, “if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers,I’llserveyouasyouservedJackWoodley.</s>You can bleat about the girl to your heart’s content, for that’s your own affair, but if you round on your pals to this plain-clothes copper it will be the worst day’sworkthateveryoudid.” “Yourreverenceneednotbeexcited,”saidHolmes, lightingacigarette. “Thecaseisclearenoughagainst you,andallIaskisafewdetailsformyprivatecurios- ity. However, if there’s any difficulty in your telling meI’lldothetalking,andthenyouwillseehowfar you have a chance of holding back your secrets. In the first place, three of you came from South Africa onthisgame—youWilliamson,youCarruthers,and Woodley.” “Lienumberone,”saidtheoldman;“Ineversaw eitherofthemuntiltwomonthsago,andIhavenever beeninAfricainmylife,soyoucanputthatinyour pipeandsmokeit,Mr.BusybodyHolmes!” “Whathesaysistrue,”saidCarruthers.</s>“Well,well,twoofyoucameover. Hisreverence isourownhome-madearticle. YouhadknownRalph SmithinSouthAfrica. Youhadreasontobelievehe would not live long. You found out that his niece wouldinherithisfortune. How’sthat—eh?” CarruthersnoddedandWilliamsonswore.</s>“She was next-of-kin, no doubt, and you were awarethattheoldfellowwouldmakenowill.” “Couldn’treadorwrite,”saidCarruthers.</s>“Soyoucameover,thetwoofyou,andhuntedup the girl. The idea was that one of you was to marry her and the other have a share of the plunder. For some reason Woodley was chosen as the husband.</s>Whywasthat?” “Weplayedcardsforheronthevoyage. Hewon.” “I see. You got the young lady into your ser- vice,andthereWoodleywastodothecourting. She recognisedthedrunkenbrutethathewas,andwouldhave nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your ar- rangementwasratherupsetbythefactthatyouhad yourself fallen in love with the lady. You could no longerbeartheideaofthisruffianowningher.” “No,byGeorge,Icouldn’t!” “Therewasaquarrelbetweenyou. Heleftyouina rage,andbegantomakehisownplansindependently ofyou.” “Itstrikesme,Williamson,thereisn’tverymuch that we can tell this gentleman,” cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh. “Yes, we quarreled, and he knockedmedown. Iamlevelwithhimonthat,any- how. Then I lost sight of him. That was when he pickedupwiththiscastpadrehere. Ifoundthatthey had set up house-keeping together at this place on the line that she had to pass for the station. I kept myeyeonherafterthat,forIknewtherewassome devilry in the wind. I saw them from time to time, forIwasanxioustoknowwhattheywereafter. Two days ago Woodley came up to my house with this cable,whichshowedthatRalphSmithwasdead. He asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said I would not. He asked me if I would marry the girl myselfandgivehimashare. IsaidIwouldwillingly doso,butthatshewouldnothaveme. Hesaid,‘Let usgethermarriedfirst,andafteraweekortwoshe may see things a bit different.’ I said I would have nothingtodowithviolence. Sohewentoffcursing, like the foul-mouthed blackguard that he was, and swearingthathewouldhaveheryet. Shewasleaving me this week-end, and I had got a trap to take her to the station, but I was so uneasy in my mind that I followed her on my bicycle. She had got a start, however, and before I could catch her the mischief wasdone. ThefirstthingIknewaboutitwaswhenI sawyoutwogentlemendrivingbackinherdog-cart.” Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette intothegrate. “Ihavebeenveryobtuse,Watson,”said he. “Wheninyourreportyousaidthatyouhadseen thecyclistasyouthoughtarrangehisnecktieinthe shrubbery,thataloneshouldhavetoldmeall. How- ever,wemaycongratulateourselvesuponacurious andinsomerespectsauniquecase. Iperceivethree ofthecountyconstabularyinthedrive,andIamglad to see that the little ostler is able to keep pace with them;soitislikelythatneitherhenortheinteresting bridegroom will be permanently damaged by their morning’s adventures. I think, Watson, that in your medical capacity you might wait upon Miss Smith and tell her that if she is sufficiently recovered we shallbehappytoescorthertohermother’shome. If sheisnotquiteconvalescentyouwillfindthatahint thatwewereabouttotelegraphtoayoungelectrician in the Midlands would probably complete the cure.</s>Astoyou,Mr.Carruthers,Ithinkthatyouhavedone whatyoucouldtomakeamendsforyourshareinan evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my evidence canbeofhelptoyouinyourtrialitshallbeatyour disposal.” In the whirl of our incessant activity it has often beendifficultforme,asthereaderhasprobablyob- served,toroundoffmynarratives,andtogivethose final details which the curious might expect. Each case has been the prelude to another, and the crisis onceovertheactorshavepassedforeveroutofour busy lives. I find, however, a short note at the end of my manuscripts dealing with this case, in which IhaveputituponrecordthatMissVioletSmithdid indeed inherit a large fortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the senior partner of Mor- ton&Kennedy,thefamousWestminsterelectricians.</s>WilliamsonandWoodleywerebothtriedforabduc- tionandassault,theformergettingsevenyearsand the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers I have no record,butIamsurethathisassaultwasnotviewed very gravely by the Court, since Woodley had the reputation of being a most dangerous ruffian, and I thinkthatafewmonthsweresufficienttosatisfythe demandsofjustice.ehavehadsomedramaticentrancesand exitsuponoursmallstageatBakerStreet, butIcannotrecollectanythingmoresud- W denandstartlingthanthefirstappearance ofThorneycroftHuxtable,M.A.,Ph.D.,etc. Hiscard, whichseemedtoosmalltocarrytheweightofhisaca- demic distinctions, preceded him by a few seconds, andthenheenteredhimself—solarge,sopompous, andsodignifiedthathewastheveryembodimentof self-possession and solidity. And yet his first action whenthedoorhadclosedbehindhimwastostagger againstthetable,whenceheslippeddownuponthe floor,andtherewasthatmajesticfigureprostrateand insensibleuponourbearskinhearthrug.</s>Wehadsprungtoourfeet,andforafewmoments westaredinsilentamazementatthisponderouspiece of wreckage, which told of some sudden and fatal stormfaroutontheoceanoflife. ThenHolmeshur- riedwithacushionforhisheadandIwithbrandyfor hislips. Theheavywhitefacewasseamedwithlines oftrouble,thehangingpouchesundertheclosedeyes wereleadenincolour,theloosemouthdroopeddolor- ouslyatthecorners,therollingchinswereunshaven.</s>Collarandshirtborethegrimeofalongjourney,and thehairbristledunkemptfromthewell-shapedhead.</s>Itwasasorely-strickenmanwholaybeforeus.</s>“Whatisit,Watson?”askedHolmes.</s>“Absoluteexhaustion—possiblymerehungerand fatigue,”saidI,withmyfingeronthethreadypulse, wherethestreamoflifetrickledthinandsmall.</s>“Return ticket from Mackleton, in the North of England,” said Holmes, drawing it from the watch- pocket. “Itisnottwelveo’clockyet. Hehascertainly beenanearlystarter.” The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and nowapairofvacant,greyeyeslookedupatus. An instantlaterthemanhadscrambledontohisfeet,his facecrimsonwithshame.</s>“Forgivethisweakness,Mr.Holmes;Ihavebeena littleoverwrought. Thankyou,ifImighthaveaglass of milk and a biscuit I have no doubt that I should be better. I came personally, Mr. Holmes, in order to ensure that you would return with me. I feared thatnotelegramwouldconvinceyouoftheabsolute urgencyofthecase.” “Whenyouarequiterestored— “I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I cametobesoweak. Iwishyou,Mr.Holmes,tocome toMackletonwithmebythenexttrain.” Myfriendshookhishead.</s>“Mycolleague,Dr.Watson,couldtellyouthatwe areverybusyatpresent. Iamretainedinthiscaseof theFerrersDocuments,andtheAbergavennymurder is coming up for trial. Only a very important issue couldcallmefromLondonatpresent.” “Important!” Our visitor threw up his hands.</s>“Haveyouheardnothingoftheabductionoftheonly sonoftheDukeofHoldernesse?” “What! thelateCabinetMinister?” “Exactly. Wehadtriedtokeepitoutofthepapers, buttherewassomerumourintheGlobelastnight. I thoughtitmighthavereachedyourears.” Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked outVolume“H”inhisencyclopaediaofreference.</s>“‘Holdernesse,6thDuke,K.G.,P.C.’—halftheal- phabet! ‘Baron Beverley, Earl of Carston’—dear me, what a list! ‘Lord Lieutenant of Hallamshire since 1900. MarriedEdith,daughterofSirCharlesApple- dore, 1888. Heirandonlychild,LordSaltire. Owns abouttwohundredandfiftythousandacres. Minerals inLancashireandWales. Address: CarltonHouseTer- race;HoldernesseHall,Hallamshire;CarstonCastle, Bangor,Wales. LordoftheAdmiralty,1872;ChiefSec- retaryofStatefor—’Well,well,thismaniscertainly oneofthegreatestsubjectsoftheCrown!” “The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware,Mr.Holmes,thatyoutakeaveryhighlinein professional matters, and that you are prepared to work for the work’s sake. I may tell you, however, that his Grace has already intimated that a cheque forfivethousandpoundswillbehandedovertothe personwhocantellhimwherehissonis,andanother thousandtohimwhocannametheman,ormen,who havetakenhim.” “It is a princely offer,” said Holmes. “Watson, I thinkthatweshallaccompanyDr.Huxtablebackto theNorthofEngland. Andnow,Dr.Huxtable,when youhaveconsumedthatmilkyouwillkindlytellme what has happened, when it happened, how it hap- pened,and,finally,whatDr.ThorneycroftHuxtable, ofthePriorySchool,nearMackleton,hastodowith the matter, and why he comes three days after an event—the state of your chin gives the date—to ask formyhumbleservices.” Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits.</s>The light had come back to his eyes and the colour tohischeeksashesethimselfwithgreatvigourand luciditytoexplainthesituation.</s>“Imustinformyou,gentlemen,thatthePrioryis apreparatoryschool,ofwhichIamthefounderand principal. ‘Huxtable’sSidelightsonHorace’ may possi- blyrecallmynametoyourmemories. ThePrioryis,withoutexception,thebestandmostselectprepara- toryschoolinEngland. LordLeverstoke,theEarlof Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames—they all have en- trustedtheirsonstome. ButIfeltthatmyschoolhad reacheditszenithwhen, threeweeksago, theDuke of Holdernesse sent Mr. James Wilder, his secretary, withtheintimationthatyoungLordSaltire,tenyears old,hisonlysonandheir,wasabouttobecommitted tomycharge. LittledidIthinkthatthiswouldbethe preludetothemostcrushingmisfortuneofmylife.</s>“OnMay1sttheboyarrived,thatbeingthebegin- ningofthesummerterm. Hewasacharmingyouth, and he soon fell into our ways. I may tell you—I trust that I am not indiscreet, but half-confidences are absurd in such a case—that he was not entirely happy at home. It is an open secret that the Duke’s married life had not been a peaceful one, and the matterhadendedinaseparationbymutualconsent, theDuchesstakingupherresidenceintheSouthof France. This had occurred very shortly before, and theboy’ssympathiesareknowntohavebeenstrongly withhismother. Hemopedafterherdeparturefrom HoldernesseHall,anditwasforthisreasonthatthe Dukedesiredtosendhimtomyestablishment. Ina fortnighttheboywasquiteathomewithus,andwas apparentlyabsolutelyhappy.</s>“HewaslastseenonthenightofMay13th—that is, the night of last Monday. His room was on the second floor, and was approached through another largerroominwhichtwoboysweresleeping. These boyssawandheardnothing,sothatitiscertainthat youngSaltiredidnotpassoutthatway. Hiswindow wasopen,andthereisastoutivyplantleadingtothe ground. Wecouldtracenofootmarksbelow,butitis surethatthisistheonlypossibleexit.</s>“Hisabsencewasdiscoveredatseveno’clockon Tuesday morning. His bed had been slept in. He haddressedhimselffullybeforegoingoffinhisusual schoolsuitofblackEtonjacketanddarkgreytrousers.</s>Therewerenosignsthatanyonehadenteredtheroom, and it is quite certain that anything in the nature of cries, or a struggle, would have been heard, since Caunter, the elder boy in the inner room, is a very lightsleeper.</s>“When Lord Saltire’s disappearance was discov- eredIatoncecalledarollofthewholeestablishment, boys, masters, and servants. It was then that we as- certainedthatLordSaltirehadnotbeenaloneinhis flight. Heidegger, the German master, was missing.</s>Hisroomwasonthesecondfloor,atthefartherend ofthebuilding,facingthesamewayasLordSaltire’s.</s>Hisbedhadalsobeensleptin;buthehadapparently gone away partly dressed, since his shirt and socks werelyingonthefloor. Hehadundoubtedlylethim- self down by the ivy, for we could see the marks of hisfeetwherehehadlandedonthelawn. Hisbicycle waskeptinasmallshedbesidethislawn,anditalso wasgone.</s>“He had been with me for two years, and came withthebestreferences;buthewasasilent,morose man, not very popular either with masters or boys.</s>No trace could be found of the fugitives, and now onThursdaymorningweareasignorantaswewere onTuesday. Inquirywas,ofcourse,madeatonceat Holdernesse Hall. It is only a few miles away, and we imagined that in some sudden attack of home- sicknesshehadgonebacktohisfather;butnothing had been heard of him. The Duke is greatly agi- tated—and as to me, you have seen yourselves the state of nervous prostration to which the suspense andtheresponsibilityhavereducedme. Mr.Holmes, if ever you put forward your full powers, I implore you to do so now, for never in your life could you haveacasewhichismoreworthyofthem.” SherlockHolmeshadlistenedwiththeutmostin- tentnesstothestatementoftheunhappyschoolmaster.</s>Hisdrawnbrowsandthedeepfurrowbetweenthem showedthatheneedednoexhortationtoconcentrate all his attention upon a problem which, apart from the tremendous interests involved, must appeal so directly to his love of the complex and the unusual.</s>Henowdrewouthisnote-bookandjotteddownone ortwomemoranda.</s>“Youhavebeenveryremissinnotcomingtome sooner,”saidhe,severely. “Youstartmeonmyinves- tigationwithaveryserioushandicap. Itisinconceiv- able,forexample,thatthisivyandthislawnwould haveyieldednothingtoanexpertobserver.” “I am not to blame, Mr. Holmes. His Grace was extremely desirous to avoid all public scandal. He wasafraidofhisfamilyunhappinessbeingdragged before the world. He has a deep horror of anything ofthekind.” “Buttherehasbeensomeofficialinvestigation?” “Yes, sir, and it has proved most disappointing.</s>An apparent clue was at once obtained, since a boy and a young man were reported to have been seen leavinganeighbouringstationbyanearlytrain. Only last night we had news that the couple had been hunteddowninLiverpool,andtheyprovetohaveno connectionwhateverwiththematterinhand. Then itwasthatinmydespairanddisappointment,after asleeplessnight,Icamestraighttoyoubytheearly train.”“I suppose the local investigation was relaxed whilethisfalsecluewasbeingfollowedup?” “Itwasentirelydropped.” “Sothatthreedayshavebeenwasted. Theaffair hasbeenmostdeplorablyhandled.” “Ifeelit,andadmitit.” “And yet the problem should be capable of ulti- mate solution. I shall be very happy to look into it.</s>Haveyoubeenabletotraceanyconnectionbetween themissingboyandthisGermanmaster?” “Noneatall.” “Washeinthemaster’sclass?” “No;heneverexchangedawordwithhimsofar asIknow.” “That is certainly very singular. Had the boy a bicycle?” “No.” “Wasanyotherbicyclemissing?” “No.” “Isthatcertain?” “Quite.” “Well,now,youdonotmeantoseriouslysuggest thatthisGermanrodeoffuponabicycleinthedead ofthenightbearingtheboyinhisarms?” “Certainlynot.” “Thenwhatisthetheoryinyourmind?” “Thebicyclemayhavebeenablind. Itmayhave been hidden somewhere and the pair gone off on foot.” “Quite so; but it seems rather an absurd blind, doesitnot? Werethereotherbicyclesinthisshed?” “Several.” “Wouldhenothavehiddenacouplehedesiredto givetheideathattheyhadgoneoffuponthem?” “Isupposehewould.” “Ofcoursehewould. Theblindtheorywon’tdo.</s>But the incident is an admirable starting-point for an investigation. After all, a bicycle is not an easy thing to conceal or to destroy. One other question.</s>Did anyone call to see the boy on the day before he disappeared?” “No.” “Didhegetanyletters?” “Yes;oneletter.” “Fromwhom?” “Fromhisfather.” “Doyouopentheboys’letters?” “No.” “Howdoyouknowitwasfromthefather?” “Thecoatofarmswasontheenvelope,anditwas addressedintheDuke’speculiarstiffhand. Besides, theDukeremembershavingwritten.” “Whenhadhealetterbeforethat?” “Notforseveraldays.” “HadheeveronefromFrance?” “No;never.” “Youseethepointofmyquestions,ofcourse. Ei- ther the boy was carried off by force or he went of hisownfreewill. Inthelattercaseyouwouldexpect thatsomepromptingfromoutsidewouldbeneeded tomakesoyoungaladdosuchathing. Ifhehashad novisitors,thatpromptingmusthavecomeinletters.</s>HenceItrytofindoutwhowerehiscorrespondents.” “I fear I cannot help you much. His only corre- spondent,sofarasIknow,washisownfather.” “Whowrotetohimontheverydayofhisdisap- pearance. Weretherelationsbetweenfatherandson veryfriendly?” “HisGraceisneververyfriendlywithanyone. He iscompletelyimmersedinlargepublicquestions,and isratherinaccessibletoallordinaryemotions. Buthe wasalwayskindtotheboyinhisownway.” “But the sympathies of the latter were with the mother?” “Yes.” “Didhesayso?” “No.” “TheDuke,then?” “Goodheavens,no!” “Thenhowcouldyouknow?” “IhavehadsomeconfidentialtalkswithMr.James Wilder,hisGrace’ssecretary. Itwashewhogaveme theinformationaboutLordSaltire’sfeelings.” “I see. By the way, that last letter of the Duke’s—wasitfoundintheboy’sroomafterhewas gone?” “No;hehadtakenitwithhim. Ithink,Mr.Holmes, itistimethatwewereleavingforEuston.” “I will order a four-wheeler. In a quarter of an hourweshallbeatyourservice. Ifyouaretelegraph- ing home, Mr. Huxtable, it would be well to allow thepeopleinyourneighbourhoodtoimaginethatthe inquiryisstillgoingoninLiverpool,orwhereverelse thatredherringledyourpack. InthemeantimeIwill doalittlequietworkatyourowndoors,andperhapsthescentisnotsocoldbutthattwooldhoundslike Watsonandmyselfmaygetasniffofit.” Thateveningfoundusinthecold,bracingatmo- sphereofthePeakcountry,inwhichDr.Huxtable’s famousschoolissituated. Itwasalreadydarkwhen wereachedit. Acardwaslyingonthehalltable,and the butler whispered something to his master, who turnedtouswithagitationineveryheavyfeature.</s>“The Duke is here,” said he. “The Duke and Mr.</s>Wilderareinthestudy. Come,gentlemen,andIwill introduceyou.” Iwas,ofcourse,familiarwiththepicturesofthefa- mousstatesman,butthemanhimselfwasverydiffer- entfromhisrepresentation. Hewasatallandstately person,scrupulouslydressed,withadrawn,thinface, andanosewhichwasgrotesquelycurvedandlong.</s>Hiscomplexionwasofadeadpallor,whichwasmore startlingbycontrastwithalong,dwindlingbeardof vivid red, which flowed down over his white waist- coat,withhiswatch-chaingleamingthroughitsfringe.</s>Suchwasthestatelypresencewholookedstonilyat usfromthecentreofDr.Huxtable’shearthrug. Beside himstoodaveryyoungman,whomIunderstoodto be Wilder, the private secretary. He was small, ner- vous,alert,withintelligent,light-blueeyesandmobile features. It was he who at once, in an incisive and positivetone,openedtheconversation.</s>“I called this morning, Dr. Huxtable, too late to preventyoufromstartingforLondon. Ilearnedthat your object was to invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes to undertaketheconductofthiscase. HisGraceissur- prised,Dr.Huxtable,thatyoushouldhavetakensuch astepwithoutconsultinghim.” “WhenIlearnedthatthepolicehadfailed—” “His Grace is by no means convinced that the policehavefailed.” “Butsurely,Mr.Wilder—” “Youarewellaware,Dr.Huxtable,thathisGrace is particularly anxious to avoid all public scandal.</s>Hepreferstotakeasfewpeopleaspossibleintohis confidence.” “The matter can be easily remedied,” said the brow-beatendoctor;“Mr.SherlockHolmescanreturn toLondonbythemorningtrain.” “Hardly that, Doctor, hardly that,” said Holmes, inhisblandestvoice. “Thisnorthernairisinvigorat- ing and pleasant, so I propose to spend a few days upon your moors, and to occupy my mind as best I may. WhetherIhavetheshelterofyourrooforofthe villageinnis,ofcourse,foryoutodecide.” Icouldseethattheunfortunatedoctorwasinthe last stage of indecision, from which he was rescued bythedeep,sonorousvoiceofthered-beardedDuke, whichboomedoutlikeadinner-gong.</s>“I agree with Mr. Wilder, Dr. Huxtable, that you wouldhavedonewiselytoconsultme. ButsinceMr.</s>Holmeshasalreadybeentakenintoyourconfidence, it would indeed be absurd that we should not avail ourselves of his services. Far from going to the inn, Mr.Holmes,Ishouldbepleasedifyouwouldcome andstaywithmeatHoldernesseHall.” “I thank your Grace. For the purposes of my in- vestigation I think that it would be wiser for me to remainatthesceneofthemystery.” “Just as you like, Mr. Holmes. Any information which Mr. Wilder or I can give you is, of course, at yourdisposal.” “Itwillprobablybenecessaryformetoseeyouat theHall,”saidHolmes. “Iwouldonlyaskyounow, sir,whetheryouhaveformedanyexplanationinyour ownmindastothemysteriousdisappearanceofyour son?” “No,sir,Ihavenot.” “ExcusemeifIalludetothatwhichispainfulto you,butIhavenoalternative. Doyouthinkthatthe Duchesshadanythingtodowiththematter?” ThegreatMinistershowedperceptiblehesitation.</s>“Idonotthinkso,”hesaid,atlast.</s>“The other most obvious explanation is that the childhasbeenkidnappedforthepurposeoflevying ransom. Youhavenothadanydemandofthesort?” “No,sir.” “One more question, your Grace. I understand that you wrote to your son upon the day when this incidentoccurred.” “No;Iwroteuponthedaybefore.” “Exactly. Buthereceiveditonthatday?” “Yes.” “Was there anything in your letter which might haveunbalancedhimorinducedhimtotakesucha step?” “No,sir,certainlynot.” “Didyoupostthatletteryourself?” Thenobleman’sreplywasinterruptedbyhissec- retary,whobrokeinwithsomeheat.</s>“His Grace is not in the habit of posting letters himself,” said he. “This letter was laid with others upon the study table, and I myself put them in the post-bag.”“Youaresurethisonewasamongthem?” “Yes;Iobservedit.” “How many letters did your Grace write that day?” “Twentyorthirty. Ihavealargecorrespondence.</s>Butsurelythisissomewhatirrelevant?” “Notentirely,”saidHolmes.</s>“Formyownpart,”theDukecontinued,“Ihave advisedthepolicetoturntheirattentiontotheSouth ofFrance. IhavealreadysaidthatIdonotbelievethat theDuchesswouldencouragesomonstrousanaction, buttheladhadthemostwrong-headedopinions,and itispossiblethathemayhavefledtoher,aidedand abetted by this German. I think, Dr. Huxtable, that wewillnowreturntotheHall.” Icouldseethattherewereotherquestionswhich Holmes would have wished to put; but the noble- man’sabruptmannershowedthattheinterviewwas at an end. It was evident that to his intensely aris- tocraticnaturethisdiscussionofhisintimatefamily affairswithastrangerwasmostabhorrent,andthat he feared lest every fresh question would throw a fiercer light into the discreetly shadowed corners of hisducalhistory.</s>When the nobleman and his secretary had left, my friend flung himself at once with characteristic eagernessintotheinvestigation.</s>The boy’s chamber was carefully examined, and yielded nothing save the absolute conviction that it wasonlythroughthewindowthathecouldhavees- caped. The German master’s room and effects gave nofurtherclue. Inhiscaseatrailerofivyhadgiven way under his weight, and we saw by the light of a lantern the mark on the lawn where his heels had come down. That one dint in the short green grass wastheonlymaterialwitnessleftofthisinexplicable nocturnalflight.</s>SherlockHolmesleftthehousealone,andonlyre- turnedaftereleven. Hehadobtainedalargeordnance mapoftheneighbourhood,andthishebroughtinto myroom,wherehelaiditoutonthebed,and,having balanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smokeoverit,andoccasionallytopointoutobjectsof interestwiththereekingamberofhispipe.</s>“This case grows upon me, Watson,” said he.</s>“Therearedecidedlysomepointsofinterestinconnec- tionwithit. InthisearlystageIwantyoutorealize thosegeographicalfeatureswhichmayhaveagood dealtodowithourinvestigation.</s>“Look at this map. This dark square is the Pri- ory School. I’ll put a pin in it. Now, this line is the mainroad. Youseethatitrunseastandwestpastthe school,andyouseealsothatthereisnosideroadfor a mile either way. If these two folk passed away by roaditwasthisroad.” “Exactly.” “By a singular and happy chance we are able to some extent to check what passed along this road during the night in question. At this point, where my pipe is now resting, a country constable was on dutyfromtwelvetosix. Itis,asyouperceive,thefirst crossroadontheeastside. Thismandeclaresthathe was not absent from his post for an instant, and he ispositivethatneitherboynormancouldhavegone thatwayunseen. Ihavespokenwiththispoliceman to-night,andheappearstometobeaperfectlyreli- able person. That blocks this end. We have now to dealwiththeother. Thereisaninnhere,theRedBull, thelandladyofwhichwasill. ShehadsenttoMack- letonforadoctor,buthedidnotarriveuntilmorning, being absent at another case. The people at the inn werealertallnight,awaitinghiscoming,andoneor other of them seems to have continually had an eye upon the road. They declare that no one passed. If theirevidenceisgood,thenwearefortunateenough tobeabletoblockthewest,andalsotobeabletosay thatthefugitivesdidnotusetheroadatall.” “Butthebicycle?”Iobjected.“Quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently.</s>Tocontinueourreasoning: ifthesepeopledidnotgo bytheroad,theymusthavetraversedthecountryto the north of the house or to the south of the house.</s>Thatiscertain. Letusweightheoneagainsttheother.</s>Onthesouthofthehouseis,asyouperceive,alarge district ofarable land, cut upinto smallfields, with stone walls between them. There, I admit that a bi- cycle is impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn to the country on the north. Here there lies a groveoftrees,markedasthe‘RaggedShaw,’andon thefarthersidestretchesagreatrollingmoor,Lower GillMoor,extendingfortenmilesandslopinggrad- ually upwards. Here, at one side of this wilderness, is Holdernesse Hall, ten miles by road, but only six across the moor. It is a peculiarly desolate plain. A few moor farmers have small holdings, where they rear sheep and cattle. Except these, the plover and thecurlewaretheonlyinhabitantsuntilyoucometo the Chesterfield high road. There is a church there, yousee,afewcottages,andaninn. Beyondthatthe hillsbecomeprecipitous. Surelyitisheretothenorth thatourquestmustlie.” “Butthebicycle?”Ipersisted.</s>“Well,well!”saidHolmes, impatiently. “Agood cyclist does not need a high road. The moor is in- tersected with paths and the moon was at the full.</s>Halloa! whatisthis?” Therewasanagitatedknockatthedoor,andanin- stantafterwardsDr.Huxtablewasintheroom. Inhis handheheldabluecricket-cap,withawhitechevron onthepeak.</s>“Atlastwehaveaclue!”hecried. “ThankHeaven! atlastweareonthedearboy’strack! Itishiscap.” “Wherewasitfound?” “In the van of the gipsies who camped on the moor. TheyleftonTuesday. To-daythepolicetraced them down and examined their caravan. This was found.” “Howdotheyaccountforit?” “Theyshuffledandlied—saidthattheyfoundit onthemooronTuesdaymorning. Theyknowwhere he is, the rascals! Thank goodness, they are all safe underlockandkey. Eitherthefearofthelaworthe Duke’s purse will certainly get out of them all that theyknow.” “Sofar,sogood,”saidHolmes,whenthedoctor had at last left the room. “It at least bears out the theory that it is on the side of the Lower Gill Moor thatwemusthopeforresults. Thepolicehavereally donenothinglocally,savethearrestofthesegipsies.</s>Look here, Watson! There is a watercourse across the moor. You see it marked here in the map. In some parts it widens into a morass. This is particu- larlysointheregionbetweenHoldernesseHalland the school. It is vain to look elsewhere for tracks in thisdryweather;butatthatpointthereiscertainlya chanceofsomerecordbeingleft. Iwillcallyouearly to-morrowmorning,andyouandIwilltryifwecan throwsomelittlelightuponthemystery.” The day was just breaking when I woke to find thelong,thinformofHolmesbymybedside. Hewas fullydressed,andhadapparentlyalreadybeenout.</s>“Ihavedonethelawnandthebicycleshed,”said he. “I have also had a ramble through the Ragged Shaw. Now,Watson,thereiscocoareadyinthenext room. I must beg you to hurry, for we have a great daybeforeus.” His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with theexhilarationofthemasterworkmanwhoseeshis workliereadybeforehim. AverydifferentHolmes, thisactive,alertman,fromtheintrospectiveandpal- lid dreamer of Baker Street. I felt, as I looked upon thatsupplefigure,alivewithnervousenergy,thatit wasindeedastrenuousdaythatawaitedus.</s>Andyetitopenedintheblackestdisappointment.</s>With high hopes we struck across the peaty, russet moor,intersectedwithathousandsheeppaths,until wecametothebroad,light-greenbeltwhichmarked themorassbetweenusandHoldernesse. Certainly,if the lad had gone homewards, he must have passed this, and he could not pass it without leaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. With a darkening face my friend strode along themargin,eagerlyobservantofeverymuddystain uponthemossysurface. Sheep-markstherewerein profusion,andatoneplace,somemilesdown,cows hadlefttheirtracks. Nothingmore.</s>“Check number one,” said Holmes, looking gloomilyovertherollingexpanseofthemoor. “There is another morass down yonder and a narrow neck between. Halloa! halloa! halloa! whathavewehere?” Wehadcomeonasmallblackribbonofpathway.</s>Inthemiddleofit,clearlymarkedonthesoddensoil, wasthetrackofabicycle.</s>“Hurrah!”Icried. “Wehaveit.” But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face waspuzzledandexpectantratherthanjoyous.</s>“Abicycle,certainly,butnotthebicycle,”saidhe.</s>“I am familiar with forty-two different impressions leftbytyres. This,asyouperceive,isaDunlop,with apatchupontheoutercover. Heidegger’styreswerePalmer’s, leaving longitudinal stripes. Aveling, the mathematicalmaster,wassureuponthepoint. There- fore,itisnotHeidegger’strack.” “Theboy’s,then?” “Possibly,ifwecouldproveabicycletohavebeen in his possession. But this we have utterly failed to do. Thistrack,asyouperceive,wasmadebyarider whowasgoingfromthedirectionoftheschool.” “Ortowardsit?” “No,no,mydearWatson. Themoredeeplysunk impressionis,ofcourse,thehindwheel,uponwhich theweightrests. Youperceiveseveralplaceswhereit has passed across and obliterated the more shallow mark of the front one. It was undoubtedly heading awayfromtheschool. Itmayormaynotbeconnected withourinquiry,butwewillfollowitbackwardsbe- forewegoanyfarther.” Wedidso,andattheendofafewhundredyards lost the tracks as we emerged from the boggy por- tion of the moor. Following the path backwards, wepickedoutanotherspot,whereaspringtrickled acrossit. Here,onceagain,wasthemarkofthebicy- cle, though nearly obliterated by the hoofs of cows.</s>Afterthattherewasnosign,butthepathranrighton intoRaggedShaw,thewoodwhichbackedontothe school. Fromthiswoodthecyclemusthaveemerged.</s>Holmes sat down on a boulder and rested his chin inhishands. Ihadsmokedtwocigarettesbeforehe moved.</s>“Well,well,”saidhe,atlast. “Itis,ofcourse,pos- siblethatacunningmanmightchangethetyreofhis bicycleinordertoleaveunfamiliartracks. Acriminal whowascapableofsuchathoughtisamanwhomI shouldbe proudto dobusinesswith. We willleave thisquestionundecidedandharkbacktoourmorass again,forwehaveleftagooddealunexplored.” We continued our systematic survey of the edge ofthesoddenportionofthemoor,andsoonourper- severancewasgloriouslyrewarded. Rightacrossthe lowerpartoftheboglayamirypath. Holmesgavea cryofdelightasheapproachedit. Animpressionlike afinebundleoftelegraphwiresrandownthecentre ofit. ItwasthePalmertyre.</s>“Here is Herr Heidegger, sure enough!” cried Holmes, exultantly. “My reasoning seems to have beenprettysound,Watson.” “Icongratulateyou.” “Butwehavealongwaystilltogo. Kindlywalk clear of the path. Now let us follow the trail. I fear thatitwillnotleadveryfar.” Wefound,however,asweadvancedthatthispor- tionofthemoorisintersectedwithsoftpatches,and, though we frequently lost sight of the track, we al- wayssucceededinpickingituponcemore.</s>“Doyouobserve,”saidHolmes,“thattherideris nowundoubtedlyforcingthepace? Therecanbeno doubt of it. Look at this impression, where you get bothtyresclear. Theoneisasdeepastheother. That canonlymeanthattherideristhrowinghisweighton tothehandle-bar,asamandoeswhenheissprinting.</s>ByJove! hehashadafall.” There was a broad, irregular smudge covering someyardsofthetrack. Thentherewereafewfoot- marks,andthetyrereappearedoncemore.</s>“Aside-slip,”Isuggested.</s>Holmesheldupacrumpledbranchofflowering gorse. TomyhorrorIperceivedthattheyellowblos- somswerealldabbledwithcrimson. Onthepath,too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood.</s>“Bad!” said Holmes. “Bad! Stand clear, Watson! Not an unnecessary footstep! What do I read here? Hefellwounded,hestoodup,heremounted,hepro- ceeded. Butthereisnoothertrack. Cattleonthisside path. Hewassurelynotgoredbyabull? Impossible! But I see no traces of anyone else. We must push on,Watson. Surelywithstainsaswellasthetrackto guideushecannotescapeusnow.” Our search was not a very long one. The tracks ofthetyrebegantocurvefantasticallyuponthewet and shining path. Suddenly, as I looked ahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorse bushes. Out of them we dragged a bicycle, Palmer-tyred,onepedalbent,andthewholefrontof it horribly smeared and slobbered with blood. On the other side of the bushes a shoe was projecting.</s>We ran round, and there lay the unfortunate rider.</s>Hewasatallman,fullbearded,withspectacles,one glass of which had been knocked out. The cause of hisdeathwasafrightfulblowuponthehead,which hadcrushedinpartofhisskull. Thathecouldhave goneonafterreceivingsuchaninjurysaidmuchfor thevitalityandcourageoftheman. Heworeshoes, butnosocks,andhisopencoatdisclosedanight-shirt beneathit. ItwasundoubtedlytheGermanmaster.</s>Holmesturnedthebodyoverreverently,andex- amined it with great attention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could see by his ruffled browthatthisgrimdiscoveryhadnot,inhisopinion, advancedusmuchinourinquiry.</s>“Itisalittledifficulttoknowwhattodo,Watson,” saidhe,atlast. “Myowninclinationsaretopushthisinquiry on, for we have already lost so much time thatwecannotaffordtowasteanotherhour. Onthe otherhand,weareboundtoinformthepoliceofthe discovery, and to see that this poor fellow’s body is lookedafter.” “Icouldtakeanoteback.” “ButIneedyourcompanyandassistance. Waita bit! There is a fellow cutting peat up yonder. Bring himoverhere,andhewillguidethepolice.” I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dis- patched the frightened man with a note to Dr.</s>Huxtable.</s>“Now,Watson,”saidhe,“wehavepickeduptwo cluesthismorning. OneisthebicyclewiththePalmer tyre, and we see what that has led to. The other is thebicyclewiththepatchedDunlop. Beforewestart to investigate that, let us try to realize what we do knowsoastomakethemostofit,andtoseparatethe essentialfromtheaccidental.” “First of all I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left of his own free will. He got down fromhiswindowandhewentoff,eitheraloneorwith someone. Thatissure.” Iassented.</s>“Well, now, let us turn to this unfortunate Ger- manmaster. Theboywasfullydressedwhenhefled.</s>Therefore, he foresaw what he would do. But the German went without his socks. He certainly acted onveryshortnotice.” “Undoubtedly.” “Whydidhego? Because,fromhisbedroomwin- dow,hesawtheflightoftheboy. Becausehewished to overtake him and bring him back. He seized his bicycle,pursuedthelad,andinpursuinghimmethis death.” “Soitwouldseem.” “NowIcometothecriticalpartofmyargument.</s>The natural action of a man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him. He would know that he could overtake him. But the German does not do so. Heturnstohisbicycle. Iamtoldthathewasan excellent cyclist. He would not do this if he did not seethattheboyhadsomeswiftmeansofescape.” “Theotherbicycle.” “Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets hisdeathfivemilesfromtheschool—notbyabullet, mark you, which even a lad might conceivably dis- charge,butbyasavageblowdealtbyavigorousarm.</s>Thelad,then,hadacompanioninhisflight. Andthe flightwasaswiftone,sinceittookfivemilesbefore anexpertcyclistcouldovertakethem. Yetwesurvey thegroundroundthesceneofthetragedy. Whatdo wefind? Afewcattletracks,nothingmore. Itooka widesweepround,andthereisnopathwithinfifty yards. Anothercyclistcouldhavehadnothingtodo with the actual murder. Nor were there any human footmarks.” “Holmes,”Icried,“thisisimpossible.” “Admirable!” he said. “A most illuminating re- mark. It is impossible as I state it, and therefore I must in some respect have stated it wrong. Yet you sawforyourself. Canyousuggestanyfallacy?” “Hecouldnothavefracturedhisskullinafall?” “Inamorass,Watson?” “Iamatmywit’send.” “Tut, tut; we have solved some worse problems.</s>Atleastwehaveplentyofmaterial,ifwecanonlyuse it. Come,then,and,havingexhaustedthePalmer,let us see what the Dunlop with the patched cover has toofferus.” Wepickedupthetrackandfolloweditonwards forsomedistance;butsoonthemoorroseintoalong, heather-tuftedcurve,andweleftthewatercoursebe- hindus. Nofurtherhelpfromtrackscouldbehoped for. AtthespotwherewesawthelastoftheDunlop tyre it might equally have led to Holdernesse Hall, thestatelytowersofwhichrosesomemilestoourleft, ortoalow,greyvillagewhichlayinfrontofus,and markedthepositionoftheChesterfieldhighroad.</s>Asweapproachedtheforbiddingandsqualidinn, withthesignofagame-cockabovethedoor,Holmes gaveasuddengroanandclutchedmebytheshoulder tosavehimselffromfalling. Hehadhadoneofthose violent strains of the ankle which leave a man help- less. Withdifficultyhelimpeduptothedoor,where asquat,dark,elderlymanwassmokingablackclay pipe.</s>“Howareyou,Mr.ReubenHayes?”saidHolmes.</s>“Whoareyou, andhowdoyougetmynameso pat?” the countryman answered, with a suspicious flashofapairofcunningeyes.</s>“Well,it’sprintedontheboardaboveyourhead.</s>It’seasytoseeamanwhoismasterofhisownhouse.</s>I suppose you haven’t such a thing as a carriage in yourstables?” “No;Ihavenot.” “Icanhardlyputmyfoottotheground.” “Don’tputittotheground.” “ButIcan’twalk.” “Well,then,hop.”Mr.ReubenHayes’smannerwasfarfromgracious, butHolmestookitwithadmirablegood-humour.</s>“Look here, my man,” said he. “This is really ratheranawkwardfixforme. Idon’tmindhowIget on.” “NeitherdoI,”saidthemoroselandlord.</s>“Thematterisveryimportant. Iwouldofferyou asovereignfortheuseofabicycle.” Thelandlordprickeduphisears.</s>“Wheredoyouwanttogo?” “ToHoldernesseHall.” “PalsoftheDook,Isuppose?”saidthelandlord, surveying our mud-stained garments with ironical eyes.</s>Holmeslaughedgood-naturedly.</s>“He’llbegladtoseeus,anyhow.” “Why?” “Becausewebringhimnewsofhislostson.” Thelandlordgaveaveryvisiblestart.</s>“What,you’reonhistrack?” “HehasbeenheardofinLiverpool. Theyexpect togethimeveryhour.” Again a swift change passed over the heavy, un- shavenface. Hismannerwassuddenlygenial.</s>“I’velessreasontowishtheDookwellthanmost men,” said he, “for I was his head coachman once, andcruelbadhetreatedme. Itwashimthatsacked mewithoutacharacteronthewordofalyingcorn- chandler. But I’m glad to hear that the young lord was heard of in Liverpool, and I’ll help you to take thenewstotheHall.” “Thankyou,”saidHolmes. “We’llhavesomefood first. Thenyoucanbringroundthebicycle.” “Ihaven’tgotabicycle.” Holmesheldupasovereign.</s>“Itellyou,man,thatIhaven’tgotone. I’llletyou havetwohorsesasfarastheHall.” “Well, well,” said Holmes, “we’ll talk about it whenwe’vehadsomethingtoeat.” When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchenitwasastonishinghowrapidlythatsprained anklerecovered. Itwasnearlynightfall,andwehad eatennothingsinceearlymorning,sothatwespent sometimeoverourmeal. Holmeswaslostinthought, and once or twice he walked over to the window and stared earnestly out. It opened on to a squalid courtyard. In the far corner was a smithy, where a grimy lad was at work. On the other side were the stables. Holmeshadsatdownagainafteroneofthese excursions,whenhesuddenlysprangoutofhischair withaloudexclamation.</s>“By Heaven, Watson, I believe that I’ve got it!” he cried. “Yes, yes, it must be so. Watson, do you rememberseeinganycow-tracksto-day?” “Yes,several.” “Where?” “Well,everywhere. Theywereatthemorass,and again on the path, and again near where poor Hei- deggermethisdeath.” “Exactly. Well,now,Watson,howmanycowsdid youseeonthemoor?” “Idon’trememberseeingany.” “Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, but never a cow on the whole moor; verystrange,Watson,eh?” “Yes,itisstrange.” “Now,Watson,makeaneffort;throwyourmind back! Canyouseethosetracksuponthepath?” “Yes,Ican.” “Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes likethat,Watson”—hearrangedanumberofbread- crumbsinthisfashion—: : : : :—“andsometimeslike . . . . . .</s>this”—: : : : —“andoccasionallylikethis”—. .</s>.</s>. . “Canyourememberthat?” “No,Icannot.” “ButIcan. Icouldsweartoit. However,wewill go back at our leisure and verify it. What a blind beetleIhavebeennottodrawmyconclusion!” “Andwhatisyourconclusion?” “Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters, and gallops. By George, Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that thought out such a blind as that! The coast seems to be clear, save for that lad in the smithy. Let us slip out and see what wecansee.” Thereweretworough-haired,unkempthorsesin thetumble-downstable. Holmesraisedthehindleg ofoneofthemandlaughedaloud.</s>“Oldshoes,butnewlyshod—oldshoes,butnew nails. This case deserves to be a classic. Let us go acrosstothesmithy.” Theladcontinuedhisworkwithoutregardingus.</s>I saw Holmes’s eye darting to right and left among thelitterofironandwoodwhichwasscatteredabout thefloor. Suddenly,however,weheardastepbehind us, and there was the landlord, his heavy eyebrowsdrawnoverhissavageeyes,hisswarthyfeaturescon- vulsedwithpassion. Heheldashort,metal-headed stickinhishand,andheadvancedinsomenacinga fashionthatIwasrightgladtofeeltherevolverinmy pocket.</s>“You infernal spies!” the man cried. “What are youdoingthere?” “Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes,” said Holmes, coolly, “onemightthinkthatyouwereafraidofourfinding somethingout.” The man mastered himself with a violent effort, andhisgrimmouthloosenedintoafalselaugh,which wasmoremenacingthanhisfrown.</s>“You’re welcome to all you can find out in my smithy,”saidhe. “Butlookhere,mister,Idon’tcare forfolkpokingaboutmyplacewithoutmyleave,so thesooneryoupayyourscoreandgetoutofthisthe betterIshallbepleased.” “All right, Mr. Hayes—no harm meant,” said Holmes. “Wehavebeenhavingalookatyourhorses, butIthinkI’llwalkafterall. It’snotfar,Ibelieve.” “NotmorethantwomilestotheHallgates. That’s theroadtotheleft.”Hewatcheduswithsulleneyes untilwehadlefthispremises.</s>Wedidnotgoveryfaralongtheroad,forHolmes stopped the instant that the curve hid us from the landlord’sview.</s>“Wewerewarm,asthechildrensay,atthatinn,” saidhe. “IseemtogrowcoldereverystepthatItake awayfromit. No,no;Ican’tpossiblyleaveit.” “Iamconvinced,”saidI,“thatthisReubenHayes knowsallaboutit. Amoreself-evidentvillainInever saw.” “Oh! heimpressedyouinthatway,didhe? There arethehorses,thereisthesmithy. Yes,itisaninter- estingplace,thisFightingCock. Ithinkweshallhave anotherlookatitinanunobtrusiveway.” A long, sloping hillside, dotted with grey lime- stoneboulders,stretchedbehindus. Wehadturned off the road, and were making our way up the hill, when,lookinginthedirectionofHoldernesseHall,I sawacyclistcomingswiftlyalong.</s>“Getdown,Watson!”criedHolmes,withaheavy hand upon my shoulder. We had hardly sunk from viewwhenthemanflewpastusontheroad. Amid a rolling cloud of dust I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitatedface—afacewithhorrorineverylineament, the mouth open, the eyes staring wildly in front. It waslikesomestrangecaricatureofthedapperJames Wilderwhomwehadseenthenightbefore.</s>“The Duke’s secretary!” cried Holmes. “Come, Watson,letusseewhathedoes.” Wescrambledfromrocktorockuntilinafewmo- mentswehadmadeourwaytoapointfromwhich we could see the front door of the inn. Wilder’s bi- cyclewasleaningagainstthewallbesideit. Noone was moving about the house, nor could we catch a glimpseofanyfacesatthewindows. Slowlythetwi- light crept down as the sun sank behind the high towers of Holdernesse Hall. Then in the gloom we sawthetwoside-lampsofatraplightupinthestable yardoftheinn,andshortlyafterwardsheardtherat- tleofhoofs,asitwheeledoutintotheroadandtore offatafuriouspaceinthedirectionofChesterfield.</s>“What do you make of that, Watson?” Holmes whispered.</s>“Itlookslikeaflight.” “Asinglemaninadog-cart,sofarasIcouldsee.</s>Well,itcertainlywasnotMr.JamesWilder,forthere heisatthedoor.” Aredsquareoflighthadsprungoutofthedark- ness. In the middle of it was the black figure of the secretary, his head advanced, peering out into the night. Itwasevidentthathewasexpectingsomeone.</s>Then at last there were steps in the road, a second figurewasvisibleforaninstantagainstthelight,the doorshut,andallwasblackoncemore. Fiveminutes lateralampwaslitinaroomuponthefirstfloor.</s>“It seems to be a curious class of custom that is donebytheFightingCock,”saidHolmes.</s>“Thebarisontheotherside.” “Quite so. These are what one may call the pri- vate guests. Now, what in the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at this hour of night, and whoisthecompanionwhocomestomeethimthere? Come,Watson,wemustreallytakeariskandtryto investigatethisalittlemoreclosely.” Together we stole down to the road and crept acrosstothedooroftheinn. Thebicyclestillleaned againstthewall. Holmesstruckamatchandheldit to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell upon a patched Dunlop tyre. Up above us wasthelightedwindow.</s>“Imusthaveapeepthroughthat,Watson. Ifyou bendyourbackandsupportyourselfuponthewall,I thinkthatIcanmanage.” An instant later his feet were on my shoulders.</s>Buthewashardlyupbeforehewasdownagain.</s>“Come,myfriend,”saidhe,“ourday’sworkhas beenquitelongenough. Ithinkthatwehavegatheredallthatwecan. It’salongwalktotheschool,andthe soonerwegetstartedthebetter.” He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudgeacrossthemoor,norwouldheentertheschool whenhereachedit,butwentontoMackletonStation, whencehecouldsendsometelegrams. Lateatnight I heard him consoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master’s death, and later still he enteredmyroomasalertandvigorousashehadbeen whenhestartedinthemorning. “Allgoeswell,my friend,” said he. “I promise that before to-morrow evening we shall have reached the solution of the mystery.” At eleven o’clock next morning my friend and I were walking up the famous yew avenue of Hold- ernesse Hall. We were ushered through the mag- nificent Elizabethan doorway and into his Grace’s study. TherewefoundMr.JamesWilder,demureand courtly,butwithsometraceofthatwildterrorofthe nightbeforestilllurkinginhisfurtiveeyesandinhis twitchingfeatures.</s>“YouhavecometoseehisGrace? Iamsorry;but thefactisthattheDukeisfarfromwell. Hehasbeen very much upset by the tragic news. We received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable yesterday afternoon, whichtoldusofyourdiscovery.” “ImustseetheDuke,Mr.Wilder.” “Butheisinhisroom.” “ThenImustgotohisroom.” “Ibelieveheisinhisbed.” “Iwillseehimthere.” Holmes’scoldandinexorablemannershowedthe secretarythatitwasuselesstoarguewithhim.</s>“Verygood, Mr.Holmes; Iwilltellhimthatyou arehere.” Afterhalfanhour’sdelaythegreatnoblemanap- peared. Hisfacewasmorecadaverousthanever,his shouldershadrounded,andheseemedtometobe analtogetheroldermanthanhehadbeenthemorn- ingbefore. Hegreeteduswithastatelycourtesyand seated himself at his desk, his red beard streaming downontothetable.</s>“Well,Mr.Holmes?”saidhe.</s>Butmyfriend’seyeswerefixeduponthesecretary, whostoodbyhismaster’schair.</s>“Ithink,yourGrace,thatIcouldspeakmorefreely inMr.Wilder’sabsence.” The man turned a shade paler and cast a malig- nantglanceatHolmes.</s>“IfyourGracewishes—” “Yes, yes; you had better go. Now, Mr. Holmes, whathaveyoutosay?” Myfriendwaiteduntilthedoorhadclosedbehind theretreatingsecretary.</s>“The fact is, your Grace,” said he, “that my col- league,Dr.Watson,andmyselfhadanassurancefrom Dr. Huxtable that a reward had been offered in this case. Ishouldliketohavethisconfirmedfromyour ownlips.” “Certainly,Mr.Holmes.” “It amounted, if I am correctly informed, to five thousandpoundstoanyonewhowilltellyouwhere yoursonis?” “Exactly.” “Andanotherthousandtothemanwhowillname thepersonorpersonswhokeephimincustody?” “Exactly.” “Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those who may have taken him away, but also those who conspire to keep him in his present position?” “Yes,yes,”criedtheDuke,impatiently. “Ifyoudo yourworkwell,Mr.SherlockHolmes,youwillhave noreasontocomplainofniggardlytreatment.” Myfriendrubbedhisthinhandstogetherwithan appearance of avidity which was a surprise to me, whoknewhisfrugaltastes.</s>“IfancythatIseeyourGrace’scheque-bookupon the table,” said he. “I should be glad if you would make me out a cheque for six thousand pounds. It would be as well, perhaps, for you to cross it. The CapitalandCountiesBank,OxfordStreetbranch,are myagents.” HisGracesatverysternanduprightinhischair, andlookedstonilyatmyfriend.</s>“Isthisajoke,Mr.Holmes? Itishardlyasubject forpleasantry.” “Notatall,yourGrace. Iwasnevermoreearnest inmylife.” “Whatdoyoumean,then?” “I mean that I have earned the reward. I know whereyoursonis,andIknowsome,atleast,ofthose whoareholdinghim.” The Duke’s beard had turned more aggressively redthaneveragainsthisghastlywhiteface.</s>“Whereishe?”hegasped.</s>“Heis,orwaslastnight,attheFightingCockInn, abouttwomilesfromyourparkgate.”TheDukefellbackinhischair.</s>“Andwhomdoyouaccuse?” SherlockHolmes’sanswerwasanastoundingone.</s>He stepped swiftly forward and touched the Duke upontheshoulder.</s>“Iaccuseyou,”saidhe. “Andnow,yourGrace,I’ll troubleyouforthatcheque.” NevershallIforgettheDuke’sappearanceashe sprang up and clawed with his hands like one who issinkingintoanabyss. Then,withanextraordinary effortofaristocraticself-command,hesatdownand sankhisfaceinhishands. Itwassomeminutesbefore hespoke.</s>“Howmuchdoyouknow?”heaskedatlast,with- outraisinghishead.</s>“Isawyoutogetherlastnight.” “Doesanyoneelsebesidesyourfriendknow?” “Ihavespokentonoone.” TheDuketookapeninhisquiveringfingersand openedhischeque-book.</s>“I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes. I amabouttowriteyourcheque,howeverunwelcome theinformationwhichyouhavegainedmaybetome.</s>WhentheofferwasfirstmadeIlittlethoughttheturn whicheventsmighttake. Butyouandyourfriendare menofdiscretion,Mr.Holmes?” “IhardlyunderstandyourGrace.” “Imustputitplainly,Mr.Holmes. Ifonlyyoutwo knowofthisincident,thereisnoreasonwhyitshould goanyfarther. Ithinktwelvethousandpoundsisthe sumthatIoweyou,isitnot?” ButHolmessmiledandshookhishead.</s>“I fear, your Grace, that matters can hardly be arrangedsoeasily. Thereisthedeathofthisschool- mastertobeaccountedfor.” “ButJamesknewnothingofthat. Youcannothold himresponsibleforthat. Itwastheworkofthisbrutal ruffianwhomhehadthemisfortunetoemploy.” “I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks upon a crime he is morally guilty of anyothercrimewhichmayspringfromit.” “Morally, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right.</s>Butsurelynotintheeyesofthelaw. Amancannotbe condemnedforamurderatwhichhewasnotpresent, andwhichheloathesandabhorsasmuchasyoudo.</s>The instant that he heard of it he made a complete confession to me, so filled was he with horror and remorse. He lost not an hour in breaking entirely with the murderer. Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him—you must save him! I tell you that you must save him!” The Duke had dropped the last attempt at self-command, and was pacing the room with a convulsed face and with his clenched hands raving intheair. Atlasthemasteredhimselfandsatdown oncemoreathisdesk. “Iappreciateyourconductin coming here before you spoke to anyone else,” said he. “At least, we may take counsel how far we can minimizethishideousscandal.” “Exactly,”saidHolmes. “Ithink,yourGrace,that thiscanonlybedonebyabsoluteandcompletefrank- ness between us. I am disposed to help your Grace tothebestofmyability;butinordertodosoImust understandtothelastdetailhowthematterstands. I realizethatyourwordsappliedtoMr.JamesWilder, andthatheisnotthemurderer.” “No;themurdererhasescaped.” SherlockHolmessmileddemurely.</s>“Your Grace can hardly have heard of any small reputationwhichIpossess,oryouwouldnotimagine thatitissoeasytoescapeme. Mr.ReubenHayeswas arrestedatChesterfieldonmyinformationateleven o’clocklastnight. Ihadatelegramfromtheheadof thelocalpolicebeforeIlefttheschoolthismorning.” TheDukeleanedbackinhischairandstaredwith amazementatmyfriend.</s>“Youseemtohavepowersthatarehardlyhuman,” saidhe. “SoReubenHayesistaken? Iamrightglad tohearit,ifitwillnotreactuponthefateofJames.” “Yoursecretary?” “No,sir;myson.” ItwasHolmes’sturntolookastonished.</s>“I confess that this is entirely new to me, your Grace. Imustbegyoutobemoreexplicit.” “Iwillconcealnothingfromyou. Iagreewithyou that complete frankness, however painful it may be to me, is the best policy in this desperate situation towhichJames’sfollyandjealousyhavereducedus.</s>WhenIwasaveryyoungman,Mr.Holmes,Iloved with such a love as comes only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but she refused it on the groundsthatsuchamatchmightmarmycareer. Had she lived I would certainly never have married any- one else. She died, and left this one child, whom for her sake I have cherished and cared for. I could not acknowledge the paternity to the world; but I gavehimthebestofeducations,andsincehecameto manhood I have kept him near my person. He sur- prisedmysecret,andhaspresumedeversinceupon theclaimwhichhehasuponmeanduponhispower of provoking a scandal, which would be abhorrentto me. His presence had something to do with the unhappy issue of my marriage. Above all, he hated myyounglegitimateheirfromthefirstwithapersis- tent hatred. You may well ask me why, under these circumstances,IstillkeptJamesundermyroof. Ian- swerthatitwasbecauseIcouldseehismother’sface in his, and that for her dear sake there was no end tomylong-suffering. Allherprettyways,too—there wasnotoneofthemwhichhecouldnotsuggestand bringbacktomymemory. Icouldnotsendhimaway.</s>ButIfearedsomuchlestheshoulddoArthur—that is,LordSaltire—amischiefthatIdispatchedhimfor safetytoDr.Huxtable’sschool.</s>“James came into contact with this fellow Hayes because the man was a tenant of mine, and James acted as agent. The fellow was a rascal from the be- ginning;butinsomeextraordinarywayJamesbecame intimatewithhim. Hehadalwaysatasteforlowcom- pany. WhenJamesdeterminedtokidnapLordSaltire it was of this man’s service that he availed himself.</s>YourememberthatIwrotetoArthuruponthatlast day. Well, James opened the letter and inserted a noteaskingArthurtomeethiminalittlewoodcalled the Ragged Shaw, which is near to the school. He used the Duchess’s name, and in that way got the boytocome. ThateveningJamesbicycledover—Iam tellingyouwhathehashimselfconfessedtome—and he told Arthur, whom he met in the wood, that his motherlongedtoseehim,thatshewasawaitinghim onthemoor,andthatifhewouldcomebackintothe woodatmidnighthewouldfindamanwithahorse, whowouldtakehimtoher. PoorArthurfellintothe trap. He came to the appointment and found this fellowHayeswithaledpony. Arthurmounted,and they set off together. It appears—though this James onlyheardyesterday—thattheywerepursued,that Hayesstruckthepursuerwithhisstick,andthatthe man died of his injuries. Hayes brought Arthur to his public-house, the Fighting Cock, where he was confined in an upper room, under the care of Mrs.</s>Hayes,whoisakindlywoman,butentirelyunderthe controlofherbrutalhusband.</s>“Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first saw you two days ago. I had no more idea of the truth than you. You will ask me what was James’s motive in doing such a deed. I answer that there was a great deal which was unreasoning and fanatical in the hatred which he bore my heir.</s>In his view he should himself have been heir of all myestates,andhedeeplyresentedthosesociallaws whichmadeitimpossible. Atthesametimehehad a definite motive also. He was eager that I should breaktheentail,andhewasofopinionthatitlayin my power to do so. He intended to make a bargain withme—torestoreArthurifIwouldbreaktheentail, andsomakeitpossiblefortheestatetobelefttohim by will. He knew well that I should never willingly invoketheaidofthepoliceagainsthim. Isaythathe would have proposed such a bargain to me, but he didnotactuallydoso,foreventsmovedtooquickly for him, and he had not time to put his plans into practice.</s>“What brought all his wicked scheme to wreck was your discovery of this man Heidegger’s dead body. James was seized with horror at the news. It cametousyesterdayaswesattogetherinthisstudy.</s>Dr.Huxtablehadsentatelegram. Jameswassoover- whelmedwithgriefandagitationthatmysuspicions, whichhadneverbeenentirelyabsent,roseinstantlyto acertainty,andItaxedhimwiththedeed. Hemade acompletevoluntaryconfession. Thenheimplored me to keep his secret for three days longer, so as to givehiswretchedaccompliceachanceofsavinghis guilty life. I yielded—as I have always yielded—to his prayers, and instantly James hurried off to the FightingCocktowarnHayesandgivehimthemeans offlight. Icouldnotgotherebydaylightwithoutpro- voking comment, but as soon as night fell I hurried offtoseemydearArthur. Ifoundhimsafeandwell, buthorrifiedbeyondexpressionbythedreadfuldeed he had witnessed. In deference to my promise, and muchagainstmywill,Iconsentedtoleavehimthere forthreedaysunderthechargeofMrs.Hayes,since itwasevidentthatitwasimpossibletoinformthepo- licewherehewaswithouttellingthemalsowhowas themurderer,andIcouldnotseehowthatmurderer could be punished without ruin to my unfortunate James. You asked for frankness, Mr. Holmes, and I havetakenyouatyourword,forIhavenowtoldyou everything without an attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Doyouinturnbeasfrankwithme.” “I will,” said Holmes. “In the first place, your Grace, I am bound to tell you that you have placed yourselfinamostseriouspositionintheeyesofthe law. Youhavecondonedafelonyandyouhaveaided the escape of a murderer; for I cannot doubt that anymoneywhichwastakenbyJamesWildertoaid his accomplice in his flight came from your Grace’s purse.” TheDukebowedhisassent.</s>“Thisisindeedamostseriousmatter. Evenmore culpableinmyopinion,yourGrace,isyourattitude towardsyouryoungerson. Youleavehiminthisden forthreedays.”“Undersolemnpromises—” “Whatarepromisestosuchpeopleasthese? You have no guarantee that he will not be spirited away again. To humour your guilty elder son you have exposedyourinnocentyoungersontoimminentand unnecessary danger. It was a most unjustifiable ac- tion.” The proud lord of Holdernesse was not accus- tomedtobesoratedinhisownducalhall. Theblood flushedintohishighforehead,buthisconscienceheld himdumb.</s>“I will help you, but on one condition only. It is that you ring for the footman and let me give such ordersasIlike.” WithoutawordtheDukepressedtheelectricbell.</s>Aservantentered.</s>“You will be glad to hear,” said Holmes, “that your young master is found. It is the Duke’s desire thatthecarriageshallgoatoncetotheFightingCock InntobringLordSaltirehome.</s>“Now,” said Holmes, when the rejoicing lackey haddisappeared,“havingsecuredthefuture,wecan afford to be more lenient with the past. I am not in an official position, and there is no reason, so long as the ends of justice are served, why I should dis- closeallthatIknow. AstoHayesIsaynothing. The gallowsawaitshim,andIwoulddonothingtosave himfromit. WhathewilldivulgeIcannottell,butI have no doubt that your Grace could make him un- derstand that it is to his interest to be silent. From thepolicepointofviewhewillhavekidnappedthe boyforthepurposeofransom. Iftheydonotthem- selvesfinditoutIseenoreasonwhyIshouldprompt themtotakeabroaderpointofview. Iwouldwarn yourGrace,however,thatthecontinuedpresenceof Mr.JamesWilderinyourhouseholdcanonlyleadto misfortune.” “Iunderstandthat,Mr.Holmes,anditisalready settledthatheshallleavemeforeverandgotoseek hisfortuneinAustralia.” “In that case, your Grace, since you have your- selfstatedthatanyunhappinessinyourmarriedlife wascausedbyhispresence,Iwouldsuggestthatyou make such amends as you can to the Duchess, and that you try to resume those relations which have beensounhappilyinterrupted.” “That also I have arranged, Mr. Holmes. I wrote totheDuchessthismorning.” “In that case,” said Holmes, rising, “I think that myfriendandIcancongratulateourselvesuponsev- eral most happy results from our little visit to the North. There is one other small point upon which I desire some light. This fellow Hayes had shod his horses with shoes which counterfeited the tracks of cows. Was it from Mr. Wilder that he learned so extraordinaryadevice?” TheDukestoodinthoughtforamoment,witha lookofintensesurpriseonhisface. Thenheopened adoorandshowedusintoalargeroomfurnishedas amuseum. Heledthewaytoaglasscaseinacorner, andpointedtotheinscription.</s>“Theseshoes,”itran,“weredugupinthemoatof HoldernesseHall. Theyarefortheuseofhorses;but theyareshapedbelowwithaclovenfootofiron,so astothrowpursuersoffthetrack. Theyaresupposed tohavebelongedtosomeofthemaraudingBaronsof HoldernesseintheMiddleAges.“ Holmesopenedthecase,andmoisteninghisfin- gerhepasseditalongtheshoe. Athinfilmofrecent mudwasleftuponhisskin.</s>“Thankyou,”saidhe,ashereplacedtheglass. “It isthesecondmostinterestingobjectthatIhaveseen intheNorth.” “Andthefirst?” Holmesfoldeduphischequeandplaceditcare- fullyinhisnote-book. “Iamapoorman,”saidhe,as hepatteditaffectionatelyandthrustitintothedepths ofhisinnerpocket.have never known my friend to be in bet- ter form, both mental and physical, than in the year ’95. His increasing fame had I broughtwithitanimmensepractice,andI should be guilty of an indiscretion if I were even to hint at the identity of some of the illustrious clients who crossed our humble threshold in Baker Street.</s>Holmes, however, like all great artists, lived for his art’ssake,and,saveinthecaseoftheDukeofHold- ernesse, I have seldom known him claim any large rewardforhisinestimableservices. Sounworldlywas he—orsocapricious—thathefrequentlyrefusedhis helptothepowerfulandwealthywheretheproblem made no appeal to his sympathies, while he would devoteweeksofmostintenseapplicationtotheaffairs of some humble client whose case presented those strangeanddramaticqualitieswhichappealedtohis imaginationandchallengedhisingenuity.</s>In this memorable year ’95 a curious and incon- gruoussuccessionofcaseshadengagedhisattention, rangingfromhisfamousinvestigationofthesudden deathofCardinalTosca—aninquirywhichwascar- riedoutbyhimattheexpressdesireofHisHoliness thePope—downtohisarrestofWilson,thenotorious canary-trainer, which removed a plague-spot from theEast-EndofLondon. Closeontheheelsofthese two famous cases came the tragedy of Woodman’s Lee, and the very obscure circumstances which sur- roundedthedeathofCaptainPeterCarey. Norecord ofthedoingsofMr.SherlockHolmeswouldbecom- pletewhichdidnotincludesomeaccountofthisvery unusualaffair.</s>DuringthefirstweekofJulymyfriendhadbeen absent so often and so long from our lodgings that I knew he had something on hand. The fact that several rough-looking men called during that time andinquiredforCaptainBasilmademeunderstand that Holmes was working somewhere under one of the numerous disguises and names with which he concealed his own formidable identity. He had at leastfivesmallrefugesindifferentpartsofLondonin whichhewasabletochangehispersonality. Hesaid nothingofhisbusinesstome,anditwasnotmyhabit toforceaconfidence. Thefirstpositivesignwhichhe gavemeofthedirectionwhichhisinvestigationwas taking was an extraordinary one. He had gone out beforebreakfast,andIhadsatdowntomine,when he strode into the room, his hat upon his head and ahugebarbed-headedspeartuckedlikeanumbrella underhisarm.</s>“Good gracious, Holmes!” I cried. “You don’t mean to say that you have been walking about Lon- donwiththatthing?” “Idrovetothebutcher’sandback.” “Thebutcher’s?” “And I return with an excellent appetite. There canbenoquestion,mydearWatson,ofthevalueof exercise before breakfast. But I am prepared to bet thatyouwillnotguesstheformthatmyexercisehas taken.” “Iwillnotattemptit.” Hechuckledashepouredoutthecoffee.</s>“If you could have looked into Allardyce’s back shop you would have seen a dead pig swung from a hook in the ceiling, and a gentleman in his shirt- sleeves furiously stabbing at it with this weapon. I wasthatenergeticperson,andIhavesatisfiedmyself thatbynoexertionofmystrengthcanItransfixthe pig with a single blow. Perhaps you would care to try?” “Notforworlds. Butwhywereyoudoingthis?” “Becauseitseemedtometohaveanindirectbear- ing upon the mystery of Woodman’s Lee. Ah, Hop- kins, I got your wire last night, and I have been ex- pectingyou. Comeandjoinus.” Our visitor was an exceedingly alert man, thirty yearsofage,dressedinaquiettweedsuit,butretain- ingtheerectbearingofonewhowasaccustomedto officialuniform. IrecognisedhimatonceasStanley Hopkins,ayoungpoliceinspectorforwhosefuture Holmeshadhighhopes,whileheinturnprofessed the admiration and respect of a pupil for the scien- tificmethodsofthefamousamateur. Hopkins’sbrow was clouded, and he sat down with an air of deep dejection.</s>“No, thank you, sir. I breakfasted before I came round. Ispentthenightintown,forIcameupyester- daytoreport.” “Andwhathadyoutoreport?” “Failure,sir;absolutefailure.” “Youhavemadenoprogress?” “None.” “Dearme! Imusthavealookatthematter.” “I wish to heavens that you would, Mr. Holmes.</s>It’smyfirstbigchance,andIamatmywit’send. For goodness’sakecomedownandlendmeahand.” “Well, well, it just happens that I have already read all the available evidence, including the report oftheinquest,withsomecare. Bytheway,whatdo youmakeofthattobacco-pouchfoundonthescene ofthecrime? Istherenocluethere?” Hopkinslookedsurprised.“Itwastheman’sownpouch,sir. Hisinitialswere inside it. And it was of seal-skin—and he an old sealer.” “Buthehadnopipe.” “No,sir,wecouldfindnopipe;indeed,hesmoked verylittle. Andyethemighthavekeptsometobacco forhisfriends.” “No doubt. I only mention it because if I had been handling the case I should have been inclined to make that the starting-point of my investigation.</s>However,myfriendDr.Watsonknowsnothingofthis matter, and I should be none the worse for hearing thesequenceofeventsoncemore. Justgiveussome shortsketchoftheessentials.” Stanley Hopkins drew a slip of paper from his pocket.</s>“Ihaveafewdatesherewhichwillgiveyouthe careerofthedeadman,CaptainPeterCarey. Hewas bornin’45—fiftyyearsofage. Hewasamostdaring andsuccessfulsealandwhalefisher. In1883hecom- mandedthesteamsealerSeaUnicorn,ofDundee. He hadthenhadseveralsuccessfulvoyagesinsuccession, andinthefollowingyear,1884,heretired. Afterthat he travelledfor some years, and finally he bought a smallplacecalledWoodman’sLee,nearForestRow, inSussex. Therehehaslivedforsixyears,andthere hediedjustaweekagoto-day.</s>“Thereweresomemostsingularpointsaboutthe man. InordinarylifehewasastrictPuritan—asilent, gloomyfellow. Hishouseholdconsistedofhiswife, hisdaughter,agedtwenty,andtwofemaleservants.</s>Theselastwerecontinuallychanging,foritwasnever averycheerysituation,andsometimesitbecamepast all bearing. The man was an intermittent drunkard, andwhenhehadthefitonhimhewasaperfectfiend.</s>Hehasbeenknowntodrivehiswifeandhisdaughter outofdoorsinthemiddleofthenight,andflogthem throughtheparkuntilthewholevillageoutsidethe gateswasarousedbytheirscreams.</s>“He was summoned once for a savage assault upon the old vicar, who had called upon him to re- monstrate with him upon his conduct. In short, Mr.</s>Holmes,youwouldgofarbeforeyoufoundamore dangerous man than Peter Carey, and I have heard thatheborethesamecharacterwhenhecommanded his ship. He was known in the trade as Black Peter, and the name was given him, not only on account of his swarthy features and the colour of his huge beard,butforthehumourswhichweretheterrorof all around him. I need not say that he was loathed andavoidedbyeveryoneofhisneighbours,andthat Ihavenotheardonesinglewordofsorrowabouthis terribleend.</s>“Youmusthavereadintheaccountoftheinquest abouttheman’scabin,Mr.Holmes;butperhapsyour friendherehasnotheardofit. Hehadbuilthimselfa woodenouthouse—healwayscalledit‘thecabin’—a few hundred yards from his house, and it was here thatheslepteverynight. Itwasalittle,single-roomed hut,sixteenfeetbyten. Hekeptthekeyinhispocket, made his own bed, cleaned it himself, and allowed nootherfoottocrossthethreshold. Therearesmall windows on each side, which were covered by cur- tainsandneveropened. Oneofthesewindowswas turned towards the high road, and when the light burned in it at night the folk used to point it out to eachotherandwonderwhatBlackPeterwasdoing inthere. That’sthewindow,Mr.Holmes,whichgave usoneofthefewbitsofpositiveevidencethatcame outattheinquest.</s>“Yourememberthatastonemason,namedSlater, walking from Forest Row about one o’clock in the morning—twodaysbeforethemurder—stoppedas he passed the grounds and looked at the square of light still shining among the trees. He swears that the shadow of a man’s head turned sideways was clearlyvisibleontheblind,andthatthisshadowwas certainlynotthatofPeterCarey,whomheknewwell.</s>Itwasthatofabeardedman,butthebeardwasshort and bristled forwards in a way very different from thatofthecaptain. Sohesays,buthehadbeentwo hours in the public-house, and it is some distance from the road to the window. Besides, this refers to the Monday, and the crime was done upon the Wednesday.</s>“On the Tuesday Peter Carey was in one of his blackestmoods,flushedwithdrinkandassavageas adangerouswildbeast. Heroamedaboutthehouse, andthewomenranforitwhentheyheardhimcom- ing. Late in the evening he went down to his own hut. About two o’clock the following morning his daughter, who slept with her window open, heard amostfearfulyellfromthatdirection,butitwasno unusual thing for him to bawl and shout when he was in drink, so no notice was taken. On rising at seven one of the maids noticed that the door of the hutwasopen,butsogreatwastheterrorwhichthe mancausedthatitwasmiddaybeforeanyonewould venturedowntoseewhathadbecomeofhim. Peep- ing into the open door they saw a sight which sent themflyingwithwhitefacesintothevillage. Within an hour I was on the spot and had taken over the case.“Well,Ihavefairlysteadynerves,asyouknow,Mr.</s>Holmes, but I give you my word that I got a shake whenIputmyheadintothatlittlehouse. Itwasdron- inglikeaharmoniumwiththefliesandbluebottles, and the floor and walls were like a slaughter-house.</s>He had called it a cabin, and a cabin it was sure enough, for you would have thought that you were in a ship. There was a bunk at one end, a sea-chest, maps and charts, a picture of the SeaUnicorn, a line of log-books on a shelf, all exactly as one would ex- pect to find it in a captain’s room. And there in the middleofitwasthemanhimself,hisfacetwistedlike a lost soul in torment, and his great brindled beard stuckupwardsinhisagony. Rightthroughhisbroad breast a steel harpoon had been driven, and it had sunkdeepintothewoodofthewallbehindhim. He waspinnedlikeabeetleonacard. Ofcourse,hewas quitedead,andhadbeensofromtheinstantthathe hadutteredthatlastyellofagony.</s>“I know your methods, sir, and I applied them.</s>BeforeIpermittedanythingtobemovedIexamined mostcarefullythegroundoutside,andalsothefloor oftheroom. Therewerenofootmarks.” “Meaningthatyousawnone?” “Iassureyou,sir,thattherewerenone.” “My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes,butIhaveneveryetseenonewhichwascom- mitted by a flying creature. As long as the criminal remainsupontwolegssolongmusttherebesomein- dentation,someabrasion,sometriflingdisplacement whichcanbedetectedbythescientificsearcher. Itis incrediblethatthisblood-bespatteredroomcontained no trace which could have aided us. I understand, however, from the inquest that there were some ob- jectswhichyoufailedtooverlook?” The young inspector winced at my companion’s ironicalcomments.</s>“I was a fool not to call you in at the time, Mr.</s>Holmes. However, that’s past praying for now. Yes, therewereseveralobjectsintheroomwhichcalledfor special attention. One was the harpoon with which thedeedwascommitted. Ithadbeensnatcheddown fromarackonthewall. Twoothersremainedthere, and there was a vacant place for the third. On the stockwasengraved‘S.S..SeaUnicorn,Dundee.’ This seemedtoestablishthatthecrimehadbeendonein amomentoffury,andthatthemurdererhadseized the first weapon which came in his way. The fact thatthecrimewascommittedattwointhemorning, andyetPeterCareywasfullydressed,suggestedthat hehadanappointmentwiththemurderer,whichis borne out by the fact that a bottle of rum and two dirtyglassesstooduponthetable.” “Yes,”saidHolmes;“Ithinkthatbothinferences are permissible. Was there any other spirit but rum intheroom?” “Yes;therewasatantaluscontainingbrandyand whisky on the sea-chest. It is of no importance to us,however,sincethedecanterswerefull,andithad thereforenotbeenused.” “For all that its presence has some significance,” saidHolmes. “However,letushearsomemoreabout the objects which do seem to you to bear upon the case.” “Therewasthistobacco-pouchuponthetable.” “Whatpartofthetable?” “It lay in the middle. It was of coarse seal- skin—thestraight-hairedskin,withaleatherthongto bindit. Insidewas‘P.C.’ontheflap. Therewashalf anounceofstrongship’stobaccoinit.” “Excellent! Whatmore?” Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drab- coverednote-book. Theoutsidewasroughandworn, theleavesdiscoloured. Onthefirstpagewerewritten theinitials“J.H.N.”andthedate“1883.”Holmeslaid it on the table and examined it in his minute way, while Hopkins and I gazed over each shoulder. On thesecondpageweretheprintedletters“C.P.R.,”and thencameseveralsheetsofnumbers. Anotherhead- ingwasArgentine,anotherCostaRica,andanother SanPaulo,eachwithpagesofsignsandfiguresafter it.</s>“Whatdoyoumakeofthese?”askedHolmes.</s>“They appear to be lists of Stock Exchange secu- rities. I thought that ‘J.H.N.’ were the initials of a broker,andthat‘C.P.R.’mayhavebeenhisclient.” “TryCanadianPacificRailway,”saidHolmes.</s>Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth and struckhisthighwithhisclenchedhand.</s>“What a fool I have been!” he cried. “Of course, it is as you say. Then ‘J.H.N.’ are the only initials we have to solve. I have already examined the old Stock Exchange lists, and I can find no one in 1883 either in the House or among the outside brokers whose initials correspond with these. Yet I feel that the clue is the most important one that I hold. You willadmit,Mr.Holmes,thatthereisapossibilitythat theseinitialsarethoseofthesecondpersonwhowas present—in other words, of the murderer. I would alsourgethattheintroductionintothecaseofadoc- umentrelatingtolargemassesofvaluablesecuritiesgivesusforthefirsttimesomeindicationofamotive forthecrime.” SherlockHolmes’sfaceshowedthathewasthor- oughlytakenabackbythisnewdevelopment.</s>“Imustadmitbothyourpoints,”saidhe. “Icon- fessthatthisnote-book,whichdidnotappearatthe inquest,modifiesanyviewswhichImayhaveformed.</s>I had come to a theory of the crime in which I can findnoplaceforthis. Haveyouendeavouredtotrace anyofthesecuritiesherementioned?” “Inquiriesarenowbeingmadeattheoffices,butI fearthatthecompleteregisterofthestockholdersof theseSouthAmericanconcernsisinSouthAmerica, andthatsomeweeksmustelapsebeforewecantrace theshares.” Holmeshadbeenexaminingthecoverofthenote- bookwithhismagnifyinglens.</s>“Surely there is some discolouration here,” said he.</s>“Yes,sir,itisablood-stain. ItoldyouthatIpicked thebookoffthefloor.” “Wastheblood-stainaboveorbelow?” “Onthesidenexttheboards.” “Which proves, of course, that the book was droppedafterthecrimewascommitted.” “Exactly, Mr. Holmes. I appreciated that point, and I conjectured that it was dropped by the mur- dererinhishurriedflight. Itlaynearthedoor.” “Isupposethatnoneofthesesecuritieshavebeen foundamongthepropertyofthedeadman?” “No,sir.” “Haveyouanyreasontosuspectrobbery?” “No,sir. Nothingseemedtohavebeentouched.” “Dear me, it is certainly a very interesting case.</s>Thentherewasaknife,wastherenot?” “Asheath-knife,stillinitssheath. Itlayatthefeet ofthedeadman. Mrs.Careyhasidentifieditasbeing herhusband’sproperty.” Holmeswaslostinthoughtforsometime.</s>“Well,”saidhe,atlast,“IsupposeIshallhaveto comeoutandhavealookatit.” StanleyHopkinsgaveacryofjoy.</s>“Thankyou,sir. Thatwillindeedbeaweightoff mymind.” Holmesshookhisfingerattheinspector.</s>“It would have been an easier task a week ago,” saidhe. “Butevennowmyvisitmaynotbeentirely fruitless. Watson,ifyoucansparethetimeIshould beverygladofyourcompany. Ifyouwillcallafour- wheeler,Hopkins,weshallbereadytostartforForest Rowinaquarterofanhour.” Alightingatthesmallwaysidestation,wedrove for some miles through the remains of widespread woods, which were once part of that great forest whichforsolongheldtheSaxoninvadersatbay—the impenetrable“weald,”forsixtyyearsthebulwarkof Britain. Vastsectionsofithavebeencleared,forthis istheseatofthefirstiron-worksofthecountry,and thetreeshavebeenfelledtosmelttheore. Nowthe richerfieldsoftheNorthhaveabsorbedthetrade,and nothingsavetheseravagedgrovesandgreatscarsin theearthshowtheworkofthepast. Hereinaclear- ing upon the green slope of a hill stood a long, low stonehouse,approachedbyacurvingdriverunning throughthefields. Nearertheroad,andsurrounded onthreesidesbybushes,wasasmallouthouse,one windowandthedoorfacinginourdirection. Itwas thesceneofthemurder.</s>Stanley Hopkins led us first to the house, where he introduced us to a haggard, grey-haired woman, the widow of the murdered man, whose gaunt and deep-linedface,withthefurtivelookofterrorinthe depths of her red-rimmed eyes, told of the years of hardshipandill-usagewhichshehadendured. With herwasherdaughter,apale,fair-hairedgirl,whose eyesblazeddefiantlyatusasshetoldusthatshewas gladthatherfatherwasdead,andthatsheblessedthe hand which had struck him down. It was a terrible householdthatBlackPeterCareyhadmadeforhim- self, and it was with a sense of relief that we found ourselvesinthesunlightagainandmakingourway alongapathwhichhadbeenwornacrossthefields bythefeetofthedeadman.</s>The outhouse was the simplest of dwellings, wooden-walled,shingle-roofed,onewindowbeside thedoorandoneonthefartherside. StanleyHopkins drewthekeyfromhispocket,andhadstoopedtothe lock, when he paused with a look of attention and surpriseuponhisface.</s>“Someonehasbeentamperingwithit,”hesaid.</s>There could be no doubt of the fact. The wood- workwascutandthescratchesshowedwhitethrough the paint, as if they had been that instant done.</s>Holmeshadbeenexaminingthewindow.</s>“Someonehastriedtoforcethisalso. Whoeverit washasfailedtomakehiswayin. Hemusthavebeen averypoorburglar.”“Thisisamostextraordinarything,”saidthein- spector; “I could swear that these marks were not hereyesterdayevening.” “Somecuriouspersonfromthevillage,perhaps,” Isuggested.</s>“Very unlikely. Few of them would dare to set footinthegrounds,farlesstrytoforcetheirwayinto thecabin. Whatdoyouthinkofit,Mr.Holmes?” “Ithinkthatfortuneisverykindtous.” “Youmeanthatthepersonwillcomeagain?” “It is very probable. He came expecting to find thedooropen. Hetriedtogetinwiththebladeofa verysmallpenknife. Hecouldnotmanageit. What wouldhedo?” “Comeagainnextnightwithamoreusefultool.” “SoIshouldsay. Itwillbeourfaultifwearenot theretoreceivehim. Meanwhile,letmeseetheinside ofthecabin.” Thetracesofthetragedyhadbeenremoved,but the furniture within the little room still stood as it had been on the night of the crime. For two hours, with most intense concentration, Holmes examined everyobjectinturn,buthisfaceshowedthathisquest wasnotasuccessfulone. Onceonlyhepausedinhis patientinvestigation.</s>“Have you taken anything off this shelf, Hop- kins?” “No;Ihavemovednothing.” “Somethinghasbeentaken. Thereislessdustin this corner of the shelf than elsewhere. It may have been a book lying on its side. It may have been a box. Well,well,Icandonothingmore. Letuswalkin thesebeautifulwoods,Watson,andgiveafewhours tothebirdsandtheflowers. Weshallmeetyouhere later,Hopkins,andseeifwecancometocloserquar- terswiththegentlemanwhohaspaidthisvisitinthe night.” It was past eleven o’clock when we formed our littleambuscade. Hopkinswasforleavingthedoorof thehutopen,butHolmeswasoftheopinionthatthis wouldrousethesuspicionsofthestranger. Thelock was a perfectly simple one, and only a strong blade wasneededtopushitback. Holmesalsosuggested that we should wait, not inside the hut, but outside it among the bushes which grew round the farther window. Inthiswayweshouldbeabletowatchour manifhestruckalight,andseewhathisobjectwas inthisstealthynocturnalvisit.</s>It was a long and melancholy vigil, and yet brought with it something of the thrill which the hunterfeelswhenheliesbesidethewaterpooland waitsforthecomingofthethirstybeastofprey. What savage creature was it which might steal upon us out of the darkness? Was it a fierce tiger of crime, whichcouldonlybetakenfightinghardwithflashing fangandclaw,orwoulditprovetobesomeskulking jackal,dangerousonlytotheweakandunguarded? In absolute silence we crouched amongst the bushes, waiting for whatever might come. At first the steps of a few belated villagers, or the sound of voices from the village, lightened our vigil; but one by one these interruptions died away and an abso- lutestillnessfelluponus,saveforthechimesofthe distant church, which told us of the progress of the night, and for the rustle and whisper of a fine rain fallingamidthefoliagewhichroofedusin.</s>Half-pasttwohadchimed,anditwasthedarkest hourwhichprecedesthedawn,whenweallstarted as a low but sharp click came from the direction of thegate. Someonehadenteredthedrive. Againthere was a long silence, and I had begun to fear that it was a false alarm, when a stealthy step was heard upontheothersideofthehut,andamomentlatera metallicscrapingandclinking. Themanwastrying toforcethelock! Thistimehisskillwasgreaterorhis toolwasbetter,fortherewasasuddensnapandthe creak of the hinges. Then a match was struck, and nextinstantthesteadylightfromacandlefilledthe interior of the hut. Through the gauze curtain our eyeswereallriveteduponthescenewithin.</s>Thenocturnalvisitorwasayoungman,frailand thin, with a black moustache which intensified the deadly pallor of his face. He could not have been muchabovetwentyyearsofage. Ihaveneverseenany humanbeingwhoappearedtobeinsuchapitiable fright,forhisteethwerevisiblychatteringandhewas shaking in every limb. He was dressed like a gen- tleman, in Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers, with a cloth cap upon his head. We watched him staring roundwithfrightenedeyes. Thenhelaidthecandle- end upon the table and disappeared from our view into one of the corners. He returned with a large book,oneofthelog-bookswhichformedalineupon the shelves. Leaning on the table he rapidly turned over the leaves of this volume until he came to the entrywhichhesought. Then,withanangrygesture ofhisclenchedhand,heclosedthebook,replacedit in the corner, and put out the light. He had hardly turnedtoleavethehutwhenHopkins’shandwason thefellow’scollar,andIheardhisloudgaspofterror asheunderstoodthathewastaken. Thecandlewas re-lit,andtherewasourwretchedcaptiveshiveringandcoweringinthegraspofthedetective. Hesank downuponthesea-chest,andlookedhelplesslyfrom oneofustotheother.</s>“Now, my fine fellow,” said Stanley Hopkins, “whoareyou,andwhatdoyouwanthere?” The man pulled himself together and faced us withaneffortatself-composure.</s>“You are detectives, I suppose?” said he. “You imagine I am connected with the death of Captain PeterCarey. IassureyouthatIaminnocent.” “We’llseeaboutthat,”saidHopkins. “Firstofall, whatisyourname?” “ItisJohnHopleyNeligan.” I saw Holmes and Hopkins exchange a quick glance.</s>“Whatareyoudoinghere?” “CanIspeakconfidentially?” “No,certainlynot.” “WhyshouldItellyou?” “Ifyouhavenoansweritmaygobadlywithyou atthetrial.” Theyoungmanwinced.</s>“Well,Iwilltellyou,”hesaid. “WhyshouldInot? AndyetIhatetothinkofthisoldscandalgaininga new lease of life. Did you ever hear of Dawson and Neligan?” IcouldseefromHopkins’sfacethatheneverhad; butHolmeswaskeenlyinterested.</s>“You mean the West-country bankers,” said he.</s>“Theyfailedforamillion,ruinedhalfthecountyfam- iliesofCornwall,andNeligandisappeared.” “Exactly. Neliganwasmyfather.” Atlastweweregettingsomethingpositive,andyet itseemedalonggapbetweenanabscondingbanker andCaptainPeterCareypinnedagainstthewallwith oneofhisownharpoons. Wealllistenedintentlyto theyoungman’swords.</s>“Itwasmyfatherwhowasreallyconcerned. Daw- son had retired. I was only ten years of age at the time, but I was old enough to feel the shame and horrorofitall. Ithasalwaysbeensaidthatmyfather stoleallthesecuritiesandfled. Itisnottrue. Itwas hisbeliefthatifheweregiventimeinwhichtorealize themallwouldbewellandeverycreditorpaidinfull.</s>He started in his little yacht for Norway just before thewarrantwasissuedforhisarrest. Icanremember thatlastnightwhenhebadefarewelltomymother.</s>He left us a list of the securities he was taking, and he swore that he would come back with his honour cleared, and that none who had trusted him would suffer. Well,nowordwaseverheardfromhimagain.</s>Boththeyachtandhevanishedutterly. Webelieved, my mother and I, that he and it, with the securities that he had taken with him, were at the bottom of the sea. We had a faithful friend, however, who is a business man, and it was he who discovered some timeagothatsomeofthesecuritieswhichmyfather hadwithhimhavereappearedontheLondonmarket.</s>Youcanimagineouramazement. Ispentmonthsin tryingtotracethem,andatlast,aftermanydoublings and difficulties, I discovered that the original seller hadbeenCaptainPeterCarey,theownerofthishut.</s>“Naturally,Imadesomeinquiriesabouttheman.</s>I found that he had been in command of a whaler which was due to return from the Arctic seas at the very time when my father was crossing to Norway.</s>Theautumnofthatyearwasastormyone,andthere wasalongsuccessionofsoutherlygales. Myfather’s yacht may well have been blown to the north, and theremetbyCaptainPeterCarey’sship. Ifthatwere so, what had become of my father? In any case, if I could prove from Peter Carey’s evidence how these securitiescameonthemarketitwouldbeaproofthat myfatherhadnotsoldthem,andthathehadnoview topersonalprofitwhenhetookthem.</s>“IcamedowntoSussexwiththeintentionofsee- ing the captain, but it was at this moment that his terrible death occurred. I read at the inquest a de- scriptionofhiscabin,inwhichitstatedthattheold log-booksofhisvesselwerepreservedinit. Itstruck methatifIcouldseewhatoccurredinthemonthof August,1883,onboardtheSeaUnicorn,Imightsettle the mystery of my father’s fate. I tried last night to get at these log-books, but was unable to open the door. To-nightItriedagain,andsucceeded;butIfind thatthepageswhichdealwiththatmonthhavebeen torn from the book. It was at that moment I found myselfaprisonerinyourhands.” “Isthatall?”askedHopkins.</s>“Yes,thatisall.”Hiseyesshiftedashesaidit.</s>“Youhavenothingelsetotellus?” Hehesitated.</s>“No;thereisnothing.” “Youhavenotbeenherebeforelastnight?” “No.” “Then how do you account for that?” cried Hop- kins, as he held up the damning note-book, with the initials of our prisoner on the first leaf and the blood-stainonthecover.Thewretchedmancollapsed. Hesankhisfacein hishandsandtrembledallover.</s>“Where did you get it?” he groaned. “I did not know. IthoughtIhadlostitatthehotel.” “That is enough,” said Hopkins, sternly. “What- everelseyouhavetosayyoumustsayincourt. You will walk down with me now to the police-station.</s>Well, Mr. Holmes, I am very much obliged to you andtoyourfriendforcomingdowntohelpme. Asit turnsoutyourpresencewasunnecessary,andIwould havebroughtthecasetothissuccessfulissuewithout you;butnonethelessIamverygrateful. Roomshave beenreservedforyouattheBrambletyeHotel,sowe canallwalkdowntothevillagetogether.” “Well, Watson, what do you think of it?” asked Holmes,aswetravelledbacknextmorning.</s>“Icanseethatyouarenotsatisfied.” “Oh,yes,mydearWatson,Iamperfectlysatisfied.</s>AtthesametimeStanleyHopkins’smethodsdonot commend themselves to me. I am disappointed in StanleyHopkins. Ihadhopedforbetterthingsfrom him. One should always look for a possible alter- native and provide against it. It is the first rule of criminalinvestigation.” “What,then,isthealternative?” “The line of investigation which I have myself beenpursuing. Itmaygiveusnothing. Icannottell.</s>ButatleastIshallfollowittotheend.” SeveralletterswerewaitingforHolmesatBaker Street. He snatched one of them up, opened it, and burstoutintoatriumphantchuckleoflaughter.</s>“Excellent, Watson. The alternative develops.</s>Have you telegraph forms? Just write a couple of messages for me: ‘Sumner, Shipping Agent, Ratcliff Highway. Sendthreemenon,toarrivetento-morrow morning.—Basil.’ That’smynameinthoseparts. The otheris: ‘InspectorStanleyHopkins,46,LordStreet, Brixton. Comebreakfastto-morrowatnine-thirty. Im- portant. Wireifunabletocome.—SherlockHolmes.’ There,Watson,thisinfernalcasehashauntedmefor tendays. Iherebybanishitcompletelyfrommypres- ence. To-morrowItrustthatweshallhearthelastof itforever.” SharpatthehournamedInspectorStanleyHop- kinsappeared,andwesatdowntogethertotheexcel- lentbreakfastwhichMrs.Hudsonhadprepared. The youngdetectivewasinhighspiritsathissuccess.</s>“Youreallythinkthatyoursolutionmustbecor- rect?”askedHolmes.</s>“Icouldnotimagineamorecompletecase.” “Itdidnotseemtomeconclusive.” “Youastonishme,Mr.Holmes. Whatmorecould oneaskfor?” “Doesyourexplanationcovereverypoint?” “Undoubtedly. IfindthatyoungNeliganarrived attheBrambletyeHotelontheverydayofthecrime.</s>He came on the pretence of playing golf. His room wasontheground-floor,andhecouldgetoutwhen he liked. That very night he went down to Wood- man’s Lee, saw Peter Carey at the hut, quarrelled with him, and killed him with the harpoon. Then, horrified by what he had done, he fled out of the hut, dropping the note-book which he had brought withhiminordertoquestionPeterCareyaboutthese differentsecurities. Youmayhaveobservedthatsome ofthemweremarkedwithticks,andtheothers—the great majority—were not. Those which are ticked havebeentracedontheLondonmarket;buttheoth- erspresumablywerestillinthepossessionofCarey, and young Neligan, according to his own account, wasanxioustorecovertheminordertodotheright thingbyhisfather’screditors. Afterhisflighthedid notdaretoapproachthehutagainforsometime;but at last he forced himself to do so in order to obtain the information which he needed. Surely that is all simpleandobvious?” Holmessmiledandshookhishead.</s>“Itseemstometohaveonlyonedrawback,Hop- kins, and that is that it is intrinsically impossible.</s>Have you tried to drive a harpoon through a body? No? Tut,tut,mydearsir,youmustreallypayatten- tiontothesedetails. MyfriendWatsoncouldtellyou thatIspentawholemorninginthatexercise. Itisno easymatter,andrequiresastrongandpractisedarm.</s>Butthisblowwasdeliveredwithsuchviolencethat theheadoftheweaponsankdeepintothewall. Do youimaginethatthisanaemicyouthwascapableof sofrightfulanassault? Ishethemanwhohobnobbed inrumandwaterwithBlackPeterinthedeadofthe night? Was it his profile that was seen on the blind twonightsbefore? No,no,Hopkins;itisanotherand amoreformidablepersonforwhomwemustseek.” Thedetective’sfacehadgrownlongerandlonger during Holmes’s speech. His hopes and his ambi- tionswereallcrumblingabouthim. Buthewouldnot abandonhispositionwithoutastruggle.</s>“You can’t deny that Neligan was present that night,Mr.Holmes. Thebookwillprovethat. Ifancy thatIhaveevidenceenoughtosatisfyajury,evenif youareabletopickaholeinit. Besides,Mr.Holmes, Ihavelaidmyhanduponmyman. Astothisterrible personofyours,whereishe?”“Iratherfancythatheisonthestair,”saidHolmes, serenely. “I think, Watson, that you would do well toputthatrevolverwhereyoucanreachit.”Herose, andlaidawrittenpaperuponaside-table. “Nowwe areready,”saidhe.</s>Therehadbeensometalkingingruffvoicesout- side, andnowMrs.Hudsonopenedthedoortosay thattherewerethreemeninquiringforCaptainBasil.</s>“Showtheminonebyone,”saidHolmes.</s>The first who entered was a little ribston-pippin of a man, with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white side- whiskers. Holmeshaddrawnaletterfromhispocket.</s>“Whatname?”heasked.</s>“JamesLancaster.” “Iamsorry,Lancaster,buttheberthisfull. Here ishalfasovereignforyourtrouble. Juststepintothis roomandwaitthereforafewminutes.” The second man was a long, dried-up creature, with lank hair and sallow cheeks. His name was Hugh Pattins. He also received his dismissal, his half-sovereign,andtheordertowait.</s>Thethirdapplicantwasamanofremarkableap- pearance. A fierce bull-dog face was framed in a tangle of hair and beard, and two bold dark eyes gleamedbehindthecoverofthick,tufted,overhung eyebrows. Hesalutedandstoodsailor-fashion,turn- inghiscaproundinhishands.</s>“Yourname?”askedHolmes.</s>“PatrickCairns.” “Harpooner?” “Yes,sir. Twenty-sixvoyages.” “Dundee,Isuppose?” “Yes,sir.” “Andreadytostartwithanexploringship?” “Yes,sir.” “Whatwages?” “Eightpoundsamonth.” “Couldyoustartatonce?” “AssoonasIgetmykit.” “Haveyouyourpapers?” “Yes, sir.” He took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from his pocket. Holmes glanced over them andreturnedthem.</s>“YouarejustthemanIwant,”saidhe. “Here’sthe agreementontheside-table. Ifyousignitthewhole matterwillbesettled.” Theseamanlurchedacrosstheroomandtookup thepen.</s>“Shall I sign here?” he asked, stooping over the table.</s>Holmesleanedoverhisshoulderandpassedboth handsoverhisneck.</s>“Thiswilldo,”saidhe.</s>Iheardaclickofsteelandabellowlikeanenraged bull. ThenextinstantHolmesandtheseamanwere rollingonthegroundtogether. Hewasamanofsuch giganticstrengththat,evenwiththehandcuffswhich Holmes had so deftly fastened upon his wrists, he wouldhaveveryquicklyoverpoweredmyfriendhad HopkinsandInotrushedtohisrescue. OnlywhenI pressedthecoldmuzzleoftherevolvertohistemple didheatlastunderstandthatresistancewasvain. We lashedhisankleswithcordandrosebreathlessfrom thestruggle.</s>“Imustreallyapologize,Hopkins,”saidSherlock Holmes; “I fear that the scrambled eggs are cold.</s>However,youwillenjoytherestofyourbreakfastall thebetter,willyounot,forthethoughtthatyouhave broughtyourcasetoatriumphantconclusion.” StanleyHopkinswasspeechlesswithamazement.</s>“I don’t know what to say, Mr. Holmes,” he blurtedoutatlast,withaveryredface. “Itseemsto methatIhavebeenmakingafoolofmyselffromthe beginning. I understand now, what I should never have forgotten, that I am the pupil and you are the master. Even now I see what you have done, but I don’tknowhowyoudidit,orwhatitsignifies.” “Well,well,”saidHolmes,good-humouredly. “We all learn by experience, and your lesson this time is that you should never lose sight of the alternative.</s>You were so absorbed in young Neligan that you couldnotspareathoughttoPatrickCairns,thetrue murdererofPeterCarey.” The hoarse voice of the seaman broke in on our conversation.</s>“Seehere,mister,”saidhe,“Imakenocomplaint of being man-handled in this fashion, but I would have you call things by their right names. You say I murderedPeterCarey;IsayIkilledPeterCarey,and there’s all the difference. Maybe you don’t believe whatIsay. MaybeyouthinkIamjustslingingyoua yarn.” “Notatall,”saidHolmes. “Letushearwhatyou havetosay.” “It’ssoontold,and,bytheLord,everywordofit istruth. IknewBlackPeter,andwhenhepulledout his knife I whipped a harpoon through him sharp, forIknewthatitwashimorme. That’showhedied.Youcancallitmurder. Anyhow,I’dassoondiewith aroperoundmyneckaswithBlackPeter’sknifein myheart.” “Howcameyouthere?”askedHolmes.</s>“I’ll tell it you from the beginning. Just sit me up a little so as I can speak easy. It was in ’83 that it happened—August of that year. Peter Carey was masteroftheSeaUnicorn,andIwasspareharpooner.</s>Wewerecomingoutoftheice-packonourwayhome, withheadwindsandaweek’ssoutherlygale,when wepickedupalittlecraftthathadbeenblownnorth.</s>There was one man on her—a landsman. The crew had thought she would founder, and had made for theNorwegiancoastinthedinghy. Iguesstheywere alldrowned. Well, wetookhimonboard, thisman, and he and the skipper had some long talks in the cabin. Allthebaggagewetookoffwithhimwasone tinbox. SofarasIknow,theman’snamewasnever mentioned,andonthesecondnighthedisappeared asifhehadneverbeen. Itwasgivenoutthathehad eitherthrownhimselfoverboardorfallenoverboard intheheavyweatherthatwewerehaving. Onlyone manknewwhathadhappenedtohim,andthatwas me,forwithmyowneyesIsawtheskippertipuphis heelsandputhimovertherailinthemiddlewatchof adarknight,twodaysbeforewesightedtheShetland lights.</s>“Well,Ikeptmyknowledgetomyselfandwaited toseewhatwouldcomeofit. Whenwegotbackto Scotlanditwaseasilyhushedup,andnobodyasked anyquestions. Astrangerdiedbyanaccident,andit wasnobody’sbusinesstoinquire. ShortlyafterPeter Careygaveupthesea,anditwaslongyearsbeforeI couldfindwherehewas. Iguessedthathehaddone thedeedforthesakeofwhatwasinthattinbox,and thathecouldaffordnowtopaymewellforkeeping mymouthshut.</s>“Ifoundoutwherehewasthroughasailorman that had met him in London, and down I went to squeeze him. The first night he was reasonable enough,andwasreadytogivemewhatwouldmake me free of the sea for life. We were to fix it all two nights later. When I came I found him three parts drunk and in a vile temper. We sat down and we drankandweyarnedaboutoldtimes,butthemore hedrankthelessIlikedthelookonhisface. Ispotted that harpoon upon the wall, and I thought I might need it before I was through. Then at last he broke out at me, spitting and cursing, with murder in his eyesandagreatclasp-knifeinhishand. Hehadnot timetogetitfromthesheathbeforeIhadtheharpoon throughhim. Heavens! whatayellhegave;andhis face gets between me and my sleep! I stood there, withhisbloodsplashingroundme,andIwaitedfor a bit; but all was quiet, so I took heart once more. I lookedround,andtherewasthetinboxonashelf. I hadasmuchrighttoitasPeterCarey,anyhow,soI tookitwithmeandleftthehut. LikeafoolIleftmy baccy-pouchuponthetable.</s>“NowI’lltellyouthequeerestpartofthewhole story. IhadhardlygotoutsidethehutwhenIheard someonecoming,andIhidamongthebushes. Aman cameslinkingalong,wentintothehut,gaveacryas if he had seen a ghost, and legged it as hard as he could run until he was out of sight. Who he was or whathewantedismorethanIcantell. FormypartI walkedtenmiles,gotatrainatTunbridgeWells,and soreachedLondon,andnoonethewiser.</s>“Well, when I came to examine the box I found there was no money in it, and nothing but papers that I would not dare to sell. I had lost my hold on Black Peter, and was stranded in London without a shilling. There was only my trade left. I saw these advertisementsaboutharpoonersandhighwages,so Iwenttotheshippingagents,andtheysentmehere.</s>That’sallIknow,andIsayagainthatifIkilledBlack Peterthelawshouldgivemethanks,forIsavedthem thepriceofahempenrope.” “Averyclearstatement,”saidHolmes,risingand lightinghispipe. “Ithink,Hopkins,thatyoushould losenotimeinconveyingyourprisonertoaplaceof safety. This room is not well adapted for a cell, and Mr.PatrickCairnsoccupiestoolargeaproportionof ourcarpet.” “Mr.Holmes,”saidHopkins,“Idonotknowhow to express my gratitude. Even now I do not under- standhowyouattainedthisresult.” “Simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue from the beginning. It is very possible if Ihadknownaboutthisnote-bookitmighthaveled away my thoughts, as it did yours. But all I heard pointed in the one direction. The amazing strength, the skill in the use of the harpoon, the rum and wa- ter, the seal-skin tobacco-pouch, with the coarse to- bacco—all these pointed to a seaman, and one who hadbeenawhaler. Iwasconvincedthattheinitials ‘P.C.’ upon the pouch were a coincidence, and not those of Peter Carey, since he seldom smoked, and nopipewasfoundinhiscabin. YourememberthatI askedwhetherwhiskyandbrandywereinthecabin.</s>You said they were. How many landsmen are there who would drink rum when they could get these otherspirits? Yes,Iwascertainitwasaseaman.” “Andhowdidyoufindhim?”“Mydearsir,theproblemhadbecomeaverysim- pleone. Ifitwereaseaman,itcouldonlybeaseaman whohadbeenwithhimontheSeaUnicorn. Sofaras Icould learn hehadsailedin noothership. I spent three days in wiring to Dundee, and at the end of thattimeIhadascertainedthenamesofthecrewof theSeaUnicornin1883. WhenIfoundPatrickCairns among the harpooners my research was nearing its end. I argued that the man was probably in Lon- don, and that he would desire to leave the country for a time. I therefore spent some days in the East- end,devisedanArcticexpedition,putforthtempting termsforharpoonerswhowouldserveunderCaptain Basil—andbeholdtheresult!” “Wonderful!”criedHopkins. “Wonderful!” “YoumustobtainthereleaseofyoungNeliganas soonaspossible,”saidHolmes. “IconfessthatIthink you owe him some apology. The tin box must be returnedtohim,but,ofcourse,thesecuritieswhich PeterCareyhassoldarelostforever. There’sthecab, Hopkins,andyoucanremoveyourman. Ifyouwant meforthetrial,myaddressandthatofWatsonwill besomewhereinNorway—I’llsendparticularslater.”tisyearssincetheincidentsofwhichIspeak tookplace,andyetitiswithdiffidencethat I allude to them. For a long time, even I withtheutmostdiscretionandreticence,it wouldhavebeenimpossibletomakethefactspublic; but now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach of human law, and with due suppression thestorymaybetoldinsuchfashionastoinjureno one. It records an absolutely unique experience in the career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of my- self. The reader will excuse me if I conceal the date oranyotherfactbywhichhemighttracetheactual occurrence.</s>Wehadbeenoutforoneofoureveningrambles, HolmesandI,andhadreturnedaboutsixo’clockon acold,frostywinter’sevening. AsHolmesturnedup the lamp the light fell upon a card on the table. He glancedatit,andthen,withanejaculationofdisgust, threwitonthefloor. Ipickeditupandread:— CharlesAugustusMilverton, AppledoreTowers, Hampstead.</s>Agent.</s>“Whoishe?”Iasked.</s>“The worst man in London,” Holmes answered, ashesatdownandstretchedhislegsbeforethefire.</s>“Isanythingonthebackofthecard?” Iturneditover.</s>“Willcallat6.30—C.A.M.,”Iread.</s>“Hum! He’s about due. Do you feel a creeping, shrinkingsensation,Watson,whenyoustandbefore the serpents in the Zoo and see the slithery, glid- ing,venomouscreatures,withtheirdeadlyeyesand wicked, flattened faces? Well, that’s how Milverton impresses me. I’ve had to do with fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them never gave me therepulsionwhichIhaveforthisfellow. AndyetI can’tgetoutofdoingbusinesswithhim—indeed,he ishereatmyinvitation.” “Butwhoishe?” “I’ll tell you, Watson. He is the king of all the blackmailers. Heaven help the man, and still more the woman, whose secret and reputation come into the power of Milverton. With a smiling face and a heart of marble he will squeeze and squeeze until he has drained them dry. The fellow is a genius in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savoury trade. His method is as follows: He allowsittobeknownthatheispreparedtopayvery high sums for letters which compromise people of wealthorposition. Hereceivesthesewaresnotonly fromtreacherousvaletsormaids,butfrequentlyfrom genteelruffianswhohavegainedtheconfidenceand affection of trusting women. He deals with no nig- gard hand. I happen to know that he paid seven hundred pounds to a footman for a note two lines in length, and that the ruin of a noble family was theresult. Everythingwhichisinthemarketgoesto Milverton, and there are hundreds in this great city whoturnwhiteathisname. Nooneknowswherehis gripmayfall,forheisfartoorichandfartoocunning to work from hand to mouth. He will hold a card backforyearsinordertoplayitatthemomentwhen thestakeisbestworthwinning. Ihavesaidthatheis theworstmaninLondon,andIwouldaskyouhow couldonecomparetheruffianwhoinhotbloodblud- geonshismatewiththisman,whomethodicallyand athisleisuretorturesthesoulandwringsthenerves inordertoaddtohisalreadyswollenmoney-bags?” I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensityoffeeling.</s>“Butsurely,”saidI,“thefellowmustbewithinthe graspofthelaw?” “Technically,nodoubt,butpracticallynot. What would it profit a woman, for example, to get him a fewmonths’imprisonmentifherownruinmustim- mediately follow? His victims dare not hit back. If everheblackmailedaninnocentperson,then,indeed, weshouldhavehim;butheisascunningastheEvil One. No,no;wemustfindotherwaystofighthim.” “Andwhyishehere?” “Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case in my hands. It is the Lady Eva Brack- well,themostbeautifuldebutanteoflastseason. Sheis tobemarriedinafortnighttotheEarlofDovercourt.</s>Thisfiendhasseveralimprudentletters—imprudent, Watson,nothingworse—whichwerewrittentoanim- pecuniousyoungsquireinthecountry. Theywould sufficetobreakoffthematch. Milvertonwillsendthe letterstotheEarlunlessalargesumofmoneyispaid him. Ihavebeencommissionedtomeethim,and—to makethebesttermsIcan.” At that instant there was a clatter and a rattle in the street below. Looking down I saw a stately car- riage and pair, the brilliant lamps gleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts. A footman openedthedoor,andasmall,stoutmaninashaggy astrachanovercoatdescended. Aminutelaterhewas intheroom.</s>Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, withalarge,intellectualhead,around,plump,hair- less face, a perpetual frozen smile, and two keengreyeyes,whichgleamedbrightlyfrombehindbroad, golden-rimmedglasses. TherewassomethingofMr.</s>Pickwick’s benevolence in his appearance, marred onlybytheinsincerityofthefixedsmileandbythe hardglitterofthoserestlessandpenetratingeyes. His voice was as smooth and suave as his countenance, as he advanced with a plump little hand extended, murmuringhisregretforhavingmissedusathisfirst visit. Holmesdisregardedtheoutstretchedhandand lookedathimwithafaceofgranite. Milverton’ssmile broadened;heshruggedhisshoulders,removedhis overcoat, folded it with great deliberation over the backofachair,andthentookaseat.</s>“This gentleman?” said he, with a wave in my direction. “Isitdiscreet? Isitright?” “Dr.Watsonismyfriendandpartner.” “Verygood,Mr.Holmes. Itisonlyinyourclient’s intereststhatIprotested. Thematterissoverydeli- cate—” “Dr.Watsonhasalreadyheardofit.” “Then we can proceed to business. You say that youareactingforLadyEva. Hassheempoweredyou toacceptmyterms?” “Whatareyourterms?” “Seventhousandpounds.” “Andthealternative?” “Mydearsir,itispainfulformetodiscussit;but if the money is not paid on the 14th there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th.” His insufferable smilewasmorecomplacentthanever.</s>Holmesthoughtforalittle.</s>“Youappeartome,”hesaid,atlast,“tobetaking matterstoomuchforgranted. Iam,ofcourse,famil- iar with the contents of these letters. My client will certainlydowhatImayadvise. Ishallcounselherto tellherfuturehusbandthewholestoryandtotrust tohisgenerosity.” Milvertonchuckled.</s>“YouevidentlydonotknowtheEarl,”saidhe.</s>FromthebaffledlookuponHolmes’sfaceIcould seeclearlythathedid.</s>“Whatharmisthereintheletters?”heasked.</s>“They are sprightly—very sprightly,” Milverton answered. “Theladywasacharmingcorrespondent.</s>ButIcanassureyouthattheEarlofDovercourtwould failtoappreciatethem. However,sinceyouthinkoth- erwise,wewillletitrestatthat. Itispurelyamatter ofbusiness. Ifyouthinkthatitisinthebestinterests ofyourclientthattheselettersshouldbeplacedinthe handsoftheEarl,thenyouwouldindeedbefoolish topaysolargeasumofmoneytoregainthem.”He roseandseizedhisastrachancoat.</s>Holmeswasgreywithangerandmortification.</s>“Wait a little,” he said. “You go too fast. We wouldcertainlymakeeveryefforttoavoidscandalin sodelicateamatter.” Milvertonrelapsedintohischair.</s>“Iwassurethatyouwouldseeitinthatlight,”he purred.</s>“Atthesametime,”Holmescontinued,“LadyEva isnotawealthywoman. Iassureyouthattwothou- sand pounds would be a drain upon her resources, and that the sum you name is utterly beyond her power. Ibeg,therefore,thatyouwillmoderateyour demands, and that you will return the letters at the price I indicate, which is, I assure you, the highest thatyoucanget.” Milverton’s smile broadened and his eyes twin- kledhumorously.</s>“I am aware that what you say is true about the lady’s resources,” said he. “At the same time, you mustadmitthattheoccasionofalady’smarriageis a very suitable time for her friends and relatives to make some little effort upon her behalf. They may hesitateastoanacceptableweddingpresent. Letme assurethemthatthislittlebundleofletterswouldgive morejoythanallthecandelabraandbutter-dishesin London.” “Itisimpossible,”saidHolmes.</s>“Dearme,dearme,howunfortunate!”criedMil- verton, taking out a bulky pocket-book. “I cannot help thinking that ladies are ill-advised in not mak- ing an effort. Look at this!” He held up a little note withacoat-of-armsupontheenvelope. “Thatbelongs to—well, perhaps it is hardly fair to tell the name untilto-morrowmorning. Butatthattimeitwillbe inthehandsofthelady’shusband. Andallbecause she will not find a beggarly sum which she could get by turning her diamonds into paste. It is such a pity. Now, you remember the sudden end of the engagementbetweentheHonourableMissMilesand ColonelDorking? Onlytwodaysbeforethewedding therewasaparagraphintheMorningPosttosaythat it was all off. And why? It is almost incredible, but the absurd sum of twelve hundred pounds would havesettledthewholequestion. Isitnotpitiful? And hereIfindyou,amanofsense,bogglingaboutterms when your client’s future and honour are at stake.</s>Yousurpriseme,Mr.Holmes.” “What I say is true,” Holmes answered. “The moneycannotbefound. Surelyitisbetterforyoutotake the substantial sum which I offer than to ruin thiswoman’scareer,whichcanprofityouinnoway?” “Thereyoumakeamistake, Mr.Holmes. Anex- posure would profit me indirectly to a considerable extent. Ihaveeightortensimilarcasesmaturing. Ifit wascirculatedamongthemthatIhadmadeasevere example of the Lady Eva I should find all of them muchmoreopentoreason. Youseemypoint?” Holmessprangfromhischair.</s>“Getbehindhim,Watson! Don’tlethimout! Now, sir,letusseethecontentsofthatnote-book.” Milvertonhadglidedasquickasarattotheside oftheroom,andstoodwithhisbackagainstthewall.</s>“Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes,” he said, turning the front of his coat and exhibiting the butt of a large revolver,whichprojectedfromtheinsidepocket. “I have been expecting you to do something original.</s>Thishasbeendonesooften,andwhatgoodhasever come from it? I assure you that I am armed to the teeth,andIamperfectlypreparedtousemyweapons, knowingthatthelawwillsupportme. Besides,your supposition that I would bring the letters here in a note-book is entirely mistaken. I would do nothing so foolish. And now, gentlemen, I have one or two littleinterviewsthisevening,anditisalongdriveto Hampstead.”Hesteppedforward,tookuphiscoat, laidhishandonhisrevolver,andturnedtothedoor.</s>Ipickedupachair,butHolmesshookhisheadandI laiditdownagain. Withbow,asmile,andatwinkle Milvertonwasoutoftheroom,andafewmoments afterweheardtheslamofthecarriagedoorandthe rattleofthewheelsashedroveaway.</s>Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets, his chin sunk uponhisbreast,hiseyesfixedupontheglowingem- bers. For half an hour he was silent and still. Then, withthegestureofamanwhohastakenhisdecision, he sprang to his feet and passed into his bedroom.</s>Alittlelaterarakishyoungworkmanwithagoatee beardandaswaggerlithisclaypipeatthelampbe- fore descending into the street. “I’ll be back some time,Watson,”saidhe,andvanishedintothenight. I understoodthathehadopenedhiscampaignagainst CharlesAugustusMilverton;butIlittledreamedthe strangeshapewhichthatcampaignwasdestinedto take.</s>ForsomedaysHolmescameandwentatallhours inthisattire,butbeyondaremarkthathistimewas spent at Hampstead, and that it was not wasted, I knew nothing of what he was doing. At last, how- ever,onawild,tempestuousevening,whenthewind screamed and rattled against the windows, he re- turnedfromhislastexpedition,andhavingremoved hisdisguisehesatbeforethefireandlaughedheartily inhissilentinwardfashion.</s>“Youwouldnotcallmeamarryingman,Watson?” “No,indeed!” “You’llbeinterestedtohearthatIamengaged.” “Mydearfellow! Icongrat—” “ToMilverton’shousemaid.” “Goodheavens,Holmes!” “Iwantedinformation,Watson.” “Surelyyouhavegonetoofar?” “It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber witharisingbusiness,Escottbyname. Ihavewalked outwithhereachevening,andIhavetalkedwithher.</s>Goodheavens,thosetalks! However,IhavegotallI wanted. IknowMilverton’shouseasIknowthepalm ofmyhand.” “Butthegirl,Holmes?” Heshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“Youcan’thelpit,mydearWatson. Youmustplay your cards as best you can when such a stake is on thetable. However,IrejoicetosaythatIhaveahated rival who will certainly cut me out the instant that mybackisturned. Whatasplendidnightitis!” “Youlikethisweather?” “It suits my purpose. Watson, I mean to burgle Milverton’shouseto-night.” Ihadacatchingofthebreath,andmyskinwent cold at the words, which were slowly uttered in a tone of concentrated resolution. As a flash of light- ninginthenightshowsupinaninstanteverydetail ofawidelandscape,soatoneglanceIseemedtosee everypossibleresultofsuchanaction—thedetection, thecapture,thehonouredcareerendinginirrepara- ble failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying at themercyoftheodiousMilverton.</s>“ForHeaven’ssake,Holmes,thinkwhatyouare doing,”Icried.</s>“Mydearfellow,Ihavegiveniteveryconsidera- tion. Iamneverprecipitateinmyactions,norwouldI adoptsoenergeticandindeedsodangerousacourse ifanyotherwerepossible. Letuslookatthematter clearlyandfairly. Isupposethatyouwilladmitthat the action is morally justifiable, though technically criminal. To burgle his house is no more than to forciblytakehispocket-book—anactioninwhichyou werepreparedtoaidme.” Iturneditoverinmymind.“Yes,” I said; “it is morally justifiable so long as ourobjectistotakenoarticlessavethosewhichare usedforanillegalpurpose.” “Exactly. SinceitismorallyjustifiableIhaveonly to consider the question of personal risk. Surely a gentlemanshouldnotlaymuchstressuponthiswhen aladyisinmostdesperateneedofhishelp?” “Youwillbeinsuchafalseposition.” “Well, that is part of the risk. There is no other possiblewayofregainingtheseletters. Theunfortu- nate lady has not the money, and there are none of herpeopleinwhomshecouldconfide. To-morrowis thelastdayofgrace,andunlesswecangettheletters to-nightthisvillainwillbeasgoodashiswordand willbringaboutherruin. Imust,therefore,abandon myclienttoherfateorImustplaythislastcard. Be- tweenourselves,Watson,it’sasportingduelbetween thisfellowMilvertonandme. Hehad,asyousaw,the best of the first exchanges; but my self-respect and myreputationareconcernedtofightittoafinish.” “Well, I don’t like it; but I suppose it must be,” saidI.“Whendowestart?” “Youarenotcoming.” “Thenyouarenotgoing,”saidI.“Igiveyoumy wordofhonour—andIneverbrokeitinmylife—that Iwilltakeacabstraighttothepolice-stationandgive youawayunlessyouletmesharethisadventurewith you.” “Youcan’thelpme.” “How do you know that? You can’t tell what mayhappen. Anyway,myresolutionistaken. Other peoplebesideyouhaveself-respectandevenreputa- tions.” Holmeshadlookedannoyed,buthisbrowcleared, andheclappedmeontheshoulder.</s>“Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so. We have sharedthesameroomforsomeyears, anditwould beamusingifweendedbysharingthesamecell. You know, Watson, I don’t mind confessing to you that I have always had an idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal. This is the chance of my lifetime in that direction. See here!” He took a neat littleleathercaseoutofadrawer,andopeningithe exhibitedanumberofshininginstruments. “Thisisa first-class,up-to-dateburglingkit,withnickel-plated jemmy,diamond-tippedglass-cutter,adaptablekeys, andeverymodernimprovementwhichthemarchof civilization demands. Here, too, is my dark lantern.</s>Everything is in order. Have you a pair of silent shoes?” “Ihaverubber-soledtennisshoes.” “Excellent. Andamask?” “Icanmakeacoupleoutofblacksilk.” “Icanseethatyouhaveastrongnaturalturnfor thissortofthing. Verygood;doyoumakethemasks.</s>We shall have some cold supper before we start. It isnownine-thirty. Atelevenweshalldriveasfaras Church Row. It is a quarter of an hour’s walk from theretoAppledoreTowers. Weshallbeatworkbefore midnight. Milverton is a heavy sleeper and retires punctuallyatten-thirty. Withanyluckweshouldbe back here by two, with the Lady Eva’s letters in my pocket.” Holmes and I put on our dress-clothes, so that wemightappeartobetwotheatre-goershomeward bound. InOxfordStreetwepickedupahansomand drove to an address in Hampstead. Here we paid off our cab, and with our great-coats buttoned up, foritwasbitterlycoldandthewindseemedtoblow throughus,wewalkedalongtheedgeoftheHeath.</s>“It’sabusinessthatneedsdelicatetreatment,”said Holmes. “These documents are contained in a safe inthefellow’sstudy,andthestudyistheante-room ofhisbed-chamber. Ontheotherhand,likeallthese stout, little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoricsleeper. Agatha—that’smyfiancee—saysit is a joke in the servants’ hall that it’s impossible to wakethemaster. Hehasasecretarywhoisdevotedto hisinterestsandneverbudgesfromthestudyallday.</s>That’swhywearegoingatnight. Thenhehasabeast ofadogwhichroamsthegarden. ImetAgathalate thelasttwoevenings,andshelocksthebruteupsoas togivemeaclearrun. Thisisthehouse,thisbigone in its own grounds. Through the gate—now to the rightamongthelaurels. Wemightputonourmasks here,Ithink. Yousee,thereisnotaglimmeroflight in any of the windows, and everything is working splendidly.” Withourblacksilkface-coverings,whichturned usintotwoofthemosttruculentfiguresinLondon, we stole up to the silent, gloomy house. A sort of tiledverandaextendedalongonesideofit,linedby severalwindowsandtwodoors.</s>“That’shisbedroom,”Holmeswhispered. “This door opens straight into the study. It would suit us best,butitisboltedaswellaslocked,andweshould make too much noise getting in. Come round here.</s>There’sagreenhousewhichopensintothedrawing- room.” Theplacewaslocked,butHolmesremovedacir- cle of glass and turned the key from the inside. An instantafterwardshehadclosedthedoorbehindus,andwehadbecomefelonsintheeyesofthelaw. The thick,warmairoftheconservatoryandtherich,chok- ing fragrance of exotic plants took us by the throat.</s>Heseizedmyhandinthedarknessandledmeswiftly pastbanksofshrubswhichbrushedagainstourfaces.</s>Holmeshadremarkablepowers,carefullycultivated, of seeing in the dark. Still holding my hand in one ofhisheopenedadoor,andIwasvaguelyconscious that we had entered a large room in which a cigar had been smoked not long before. He felt his way amongthefurniture,openedanotherdoor,andclosed itbehindus. PuttingoutmyhandIfeltseveralcoats hanging from the wall, and I understood that I was in a passage. We passed along it, and Holmes very gentlyopenedadoorupontheright-handside. Some- thingrushedoutatusandmyheartsprangintomy mouth,butIcouldhavelaughedwhenIrealizedthat itwasthecat. Afirewasburninginthisnewroom, and again the air was heavy with tobacco smoke.</s>Holmes entered on tiptoe, waited for me to follow, and then very gently closed the door. We were in Milverton’s study, and a portiere at the farther side showedtheentrancetohisbedroom.</s>Itwasagoodfire,andtheroomwasilluminated by it. Near the door I saw the gleam of an electric switch, but it was unnecessary, even if it had been safe, to turn it on. At one side of the fireplace was a heavy curtain, which covered the bay window we had seen from outside. On the other side was the doorwhichcommunicatedwiththeveranda. Adesk stoodinthecentre,withaturningchairofshiningred leather. Oppositewasalargebookcase,withamarble bustofAtheneonthetop. Inthecornerbetweenthe bookcase and the wall there stood a tall green safe, the firelight flashing back from the polished brass knobsuponitsface. Holmesstoleacrossandlooked atit. Thenhecrepttothedoorofthebedroom,and stoodwithslantingheadlisteningintently. Nosound camefromwithin. Meanwhileithadstruckmethat it would be wise to secure our retreat through the outerdoor,soIexaminedit. Tomyamazementitwas neitherlockednorbolted! ItouchedHolmesonthe arm,andheturnedhismaskedfaceinthatdirection.</s>Isawhimstart,andhewasevidentlyassurprisedas I.</s>“Idon’tlikeit,”hewhispered,puttinghislipsto myveryear. “Ican’tquitemakeitout. Anyhow,we havenotimetolose.” “CanIdoanything?” “Yes;standbythedoor. Ifyouhearanyonecome, boltitontheinside,andwecangetawayaswecame.</s>If they come the other way, we can get through the doorifourjobisdone,orhidebehindthesewindow curtainsifitisnot. Doyouunderstand?” Inoddedandstoodbythedoor. Myfirstfeeling of fear had passed away, and I thrilled now with a keener zest than I had ever enjoyed when we were the defenders of the law instead of its defiers. The highobjectofourmission, theconsciousnessthatit wasunselfishandchivalrous,thevillainouscharacter ofouropponent,alladdedtothesportinginterestof theadventure. Farfromfeelingguilty,Irejoicedand exulted in our dangers. With a glow of admiration IwatchedHolmesunrollinghiscaseofinstruments and choosing his tool with the calm, scientific accu- racyofasurgeonwhoperformsadelicateoperation. I knewthattheopeningofsafeswasaparticularhobby withhim,andIunderstoodthejoywhichitgavehim to be confronted with this green and gold monster, thedragonwhichheldinitsmawthereputationsof many fair ladies. Turning up the cuffs of his dress- coat—hehadplacedhisovercoatonachair—Holmes laid out two drills, a jemmy, and several skeleton keys. I stood at the centre door with my eyes glanc- ing at each of the others, ready for any emergency; though, indeed, my plans were somewhat vague as towhatIshoulddoifwewereinterrupted. Forhalf an hour Holmes worked with concentrated energy, layingdownonetool,pickingupanother,handling eachwiththestrengthanddelicacyofthetrainedme- chanic. FinallyIheardaclick,thebroadgreendoor swung open, and inside I had a glimpse of a num- berofpaperpackets,eachtied,sealed,andinscribed.</s>Holmespickedoneout,butitwashardtoreadbythe flickeringfire,andhedrewouthislittledarklantern, foritwastoodangerous,withMilvertoninthenext room,toswitchontheelectriclight. SuddenlyIsaw himhalt,listenintently,andtheninaninstanthehad swung the door of the safe to, picked up his coat, stuffedhistoolsintothepockets,anddartedbehind thewindowcurtain,motioningmetodothesame.</s>It was only when I had joined him there that I heard what had alarmed his quicker senses. There was a noise somewhere within the house. A door slammedinthedistance. Thenaconfused,dullmur- mur broke itself into the measured thud of heavy footstepsrapidlyapproaching. Theywereinthepas- sageoutsidetheroom. Theypausedatthedoor. The door opened. There was a sharp snick as the elec- triclightwasturnedon. Thedoorclosedoncemore, andthepungentreekofastrongcigarwasborneto ournostrils. Thenthefootstepscontinuedbackwards andforwards,backwardsandforwards,withinafew yards of us. Finally, there was a creak from a chair,andthefootstepsceased. Thenakeyclickedinalock andIheardtherustleofpapers.</s>SofarIhadnotdaredtolookout,butnowIgen- tlypartedthedivisionofthecurtainsinfrontofme andpeepedthrough. FromthepressureofHolmes’s shoulderagainstmineIknewthathewassharingmy observations. Rightinfrontofus,andalmostwithin ourreach,wasthebroad,roundedbackofMilverton.</s>Itwasevidentthatwehadentirelymiscalculatedhis movements,thathehadneverbeentohisbedroom, but that he had been sitting up in some smoking or billiard room in the farther wing of the house, the windowsofwhichwehadnotseen. Hisbroad,griz- zled head, with its shining patch of baldness, was in the immediate foreground of our vision. He was leaningfarbackintheredleatherchair,hislegsout- stretched, a long black cigar projecting at an angle from his mouth. He wore a semi-military smoking jacket, claret-coloured, with a black velvet collar. In his hand he held a long legal document, which he wasreadinginanindolentfashion,blowingringsof tobaccosmokefromhislipsashedidso. Therewas no promise of a speedy departure in his composed bearingandhiscomfortableattitude.</s>IfeltHolmes’shandstealintomineandgiveme areassuringshake,asiftosaythatthesituationwas withinhispowersandthathewaseasyinhismind. I wasnotsurewhetherhehadseenwhatwasonlytoo obvious from my position, that the door of the safe wasimperfectlyclosed,andthatMilvertonmightat anymomentobserveit. InmyownmindIhaddeter- minedthatifIweresure,fromtherigidityofhisgaze, thatithadcaughthiseye,Iwouldatoncespringout, throwmygreat-coatoverhishead,pinionhim,and leavetheresttoHolmes. ButMilvertonneverlooked up. Hewaslanguidlyinterestedbythepapersinhis hand,andpageafterpagewasturnedashefollowed theargumentofthelawyer. Atleast,Ithought,when he has finished the document and the cigar he will gotohisroom;butbeforehehadreachedtheendof either there came a remarkable development which turnedourthoughtsintoquiteanotherchannel.</s>SeveraltimesIhadobservedthatMilvertonlooked at his watch, and once he had risen and sat down again, with a gesture of impatience. The idea, how- ever,thathemighthaveanappointmentatsostrange an hour never occurred to me until a faint sound reachedmyearsfromtheverandaoutside. Milverton dropped his papers and sat rigid in his chair. The soundwasrepeated,andthentherecameagentletap atthedoor. Milvertonroseandopenedit.</s>“Well,” said he, curtly, “you are nearly half an hourlate.” Sothiswastheexplanationoftheunlockeddoor andofthenocturnalvigilofMilverton. Therewasthe gentlerustleofawoman’sdress. Ihadclosedtheslit betweenthecurtainsasMilverton’sfacehadturned inourdirection,butnowIventuredverycarefullyto openitoncemore. Hehadresumedhisseat,thecigar still projecting at an insolent angle from the corner ofhismouth. Infrontofhim,inthefullglareofthe electric light, there stood a tall, slim, dark woman, aveiloverherface, amantledrawnroundherchin.</s>Herbreathcamequickandfast,andeveryinchofthe lithefigurewasquiveringwithstrongemotion.</s>“Well,” said Milverton, “you’ve made me lose a goodnight’srest,mydear. Ihopeyou’llproveworth it. Youcouldn’tcomeanyothertime—eh?” Thewomanshookherhead.</s>“Well,ifyoucouldn’tyoucouldn’t. IftheCount- ess is a hard mistress you have your chance to get levelwithhernow. Blessthegirl,whatareyoushiver- ingabout? That’sright! Pullyourselftogether! Now, let us get down to business.” He took a note from the drawer of his desk. “You say that you have five letterswhichcompromisetheCountessd’Albert. You want to sell them. I want to buy them. So far so good. Itonlyremainstofixaprice. Ishouldwantto inspectthe letters, of course. If theyare really good specimens—Greatheavens,isityou?” The woman without a word had raised her veil anddroppedthemantlefromherchin. Itwasadark, handsome,clear-cutfacewhichconfrontedMilverton, afacewithacurvednose,strong,darkeyebrowsshad- ing hard, glittering eyes, and a straight, thin-lipped mouthsetinadangeroussmile.</s>“ItisI,”shesaid;“thewomanwhoselifeyouhave ruined.” Milvertonlaughed,butfearvibratedinhisvoice.</s>“Youweresoveryobstinate,”saidhe. “Whydidyou drivemetosuchextremities? IassureyouIwouldn’t hurt a fly of my own accord, but every man has his business,andwhatwasItodo? Iputthepricewell withinyourmeans. Youwouldnotpay.” “So you sent the letters to my husband, and he—the noblest gentleman that ever lived, a man whose boots I was never worthy to lace—he broke his gallant heart and died. You remember that last night when I came through that door I begged and prayedyouformercy,andyoulaughedinmyfaceas youaretryingtolaughnow,onlyyourcowardheart cannotkeepyourlipsfromtwitching? Yes,youneverthought to see me here again, but it was that night whichtaughtmehowIcouldmeetyoufacetoface, andalone. Well,CharlesMilverton,whathaveyouto say?” “Don’t imagine that you can bully me,” said he, risingtohisfeet. “Ihaveonlytoraisemyvoice,andI couldcallmyservantsandhaveyouarrested. ButI willmakeallowanceforyournaturalanger. Leavethe roomatonceasyoucame,andIwillsaynomore.” The woman stood with her hand buried in her bosom,andthesamedeadlysmileonherthinlips.</s>“Youwillruinnomorelivesasyouruinedmine.</s>You will wring no more hearts as you wrung mine.</s>Iwillfreetheworldofapoisonousthing. Takethat, youhound,andthat!—andthat!—andthat!” She had drawn a little, gleaming revolver, and emptiedbarrelafterbarrelintoMilverton’sbody,the muzzlewithintwofeetofhisshirtfront. Heshrank awayandthenfellforwarduponthetable,coughing furiously and clawing among the papers. Then he staggeredtohisfeet,receivedanothershot,androlled uponthefloor. “You’vedoneme,”hecried,andlay still. Thewomanlookedathimintentlyandground herheelintohisupturnedface. Shelookedagain,but there was no sound or movement. I heard a sharp rustle, the night air blew into the heated room, and theavengerwasgone.</s>No interference upon our part could have saved the man from his fate; but as the woman poured bullet after bullet into Milverton’s shrinking body I was about to spring out, when I felt Holmes’s cold, stronggraspuponmywrist. Iunderstoodthewhole argument of that firm, restraining grip—that it was noaffairofours;thatjusticehadovertakenavillain; that we had our own duties and our own objects whichwerenottobelostsightof. Buthardlyhadthe woman rushed from the room when Holmes, with swift, silent steps, was over at the other door. He turned the key in the lock. At the same instant we heardvoicesinthehouseandthesoundofhurrying feet. The revolver shots had roused the household.</s>With perfect coolness Holmes slipped across to the safe,filledhistwoarmswithbundlesofletters,and poured them all into the fire. Again and again he didit,untilthesafewasempty. Someoneturnedthe handleandbeatupontheoutsideofthedoor. Holmes lookedswiftlyround. Theletterwhichhadbeenthe messengerofdeathforMilvertonlay,allmottledwith hisblood,uponthetable. Holmestosseditinamong the blazing papers. Then he drew the key from the outer door, passed through after me, and locked it ontheoutside. “Thisway,Watson,”saidhe;“wecan scalethegardenwallinthisdirection.” Icouldnothavebelievedthatanalarmcouldhave spreadsoswiftly. Lookingback,thehugehousewas one blaze of light. The front door was open, and figureswererushingdownthedrive. Thewholegar- den was alive with people, and one fellow raised a view-halloaasweemergedfromtheverandaandfol- lowed hard at our heels. Holmes seemed to know thegroundperfectly,andhethreadedhiswayswiftly amongaplantationofsmalltrees,Icloseathisheels, andourforemostpursuerpantingbehindus. Itwas asix-footwallwhichbarredourpath,buthesprang tothetopandover. AsIdidthesameIfeltthehand ofthemanbehindmegrabatmyankle;butIkicked myself free and scrambled over a glass-strewn cop- ing. I fell upon my face among some bushes; but Holmeshadmeonmyfeetinaninstant,andtogether we dashed away across the huge expanse of Hamp- steadHeath. Wehadruntwomiles,Isuppose,before Holmes at last halted and listened intently. All was absolute silence behind us. We had shaken off our pursuersandweresafe.</s>Wehadbreakfastedandweresmokingourmorn- ingpipeonthedayaftertheremarkableexperience whichIhaverecordedwhenMr.Lestrade,ofScotland Yard,verysolemnandimpressive,wasusheredinto ourmodestsitting-room.</s>“Good morning, Mr. Holmes,” said he; “good morning. MayIaskifyouareverybusyjustnow?” “Nottoobusytolistentoyou.” “Ithoughtthat,perhaps,ifyouhadnothingpar- ticularonhand,youmightcaretoassistusinamost remarkable case which occurred only last night at Hampstead.” “Dearme!”saidHolmes. “Whatwasthat?” “Amurder—amostdramaticandremarkablemur- der. Iknowhowkeenyouareuponthesethings,and I would take it as a great favour if you would step downtoAppledoreTowersandgiveusthebenefitof youradvice. Itisnoordinarycrime. Wehavehadour eyesuponthisMr.Milvertonforsometime,and,be- tweenourselves,hewasabitofavillain. Heisknown tohaveheldpaperswhichheusedforblackmailing purposes. Thesepapershaveallbeenburnedbythe murderers. Noarticleofvaluewastaken,asitisprob- able that the criminals were men of good position, whosesoleobjectwastopreventsocialexposure.” “Criminals!”saidHolmes. “Plural!” “Yes,thereweretwoofthem. Theywere,asnearly aspossible,capturedred-handed. Wehavetheirfoot- marks,wehavetheirdescription;it’stentoonethatwe trace them. The first fellow was a bit too active, butthesecondwascaughtbytheunder-gardenerand onlygotawayafterastruggle. Hewasamiddle-sized, strongly-built man—square jaw, thick neck, mous- tache,amaskoverhiseyes.” “That’s rather vague,” said Sherlock Holmes.</s>“Why,itmightbeadescriptionofWatson!” “It’strue,”saidtheinspector,withmuchamuse- ment. “ItmightbeadescriptionofWatson.” “Well,IamafraidIcan’thelpyou,Lestrade,”said Holmes. “ThefactisthatIknewthisfellowMilverton, thatIconsideredhimoneofthemostdangerousmen in London, and that I think there are certain crimes whichthelawcannottouch,andwhichtherefore,to some extent, justify private revenge. No, it’s no use arguing. I have made up my mind. My sympathies are with the criminals rather than with the victim, andIwillnothandlethiscase.” Holmes had not said one word to me about the tragedywhichwehadwitnessed,butIobservedall themorningthathewasinhismostthoughtfulmood, andhegavemetheimpression,fromhisvacanteyes and his abstracted manner, of a man who is striv- ing to recall something to his memory. We were in the middle of our lunch when he suddenly sprang to his feet. “By Jove, Watson; I’ve got it!” he cried.</s>“Take your hat! Come with me!” He hurried at his topspeeddownBakerStreetandalongOxfordStreet, until we had almost reached Regent Circus. Here on the left hand there stands a shop window filled with photographs of the celebrities and beauties of the day. Holmes’s eyes fixed themselves upon one ofthem,andfollowinghisgazeIsawthepictureof a regal and stately lady in Court dress, with a high diamondtiarauponhernoblehead. Ilookedatthat delicately-curvednose,atthemarkedeyebrows,atthe straight mouth, and the strong little chin beneath it.</s>ThenIcaughtmybreathasIreadthetime-honoured titleofthegreatnoblemanandstatesmanwhosewife shehadbeen. MyeyesmetthoseofHolmes,andhe puthisfingertohislipsasweturnedawayfromthe window.t was no very unusual thing for Mr.</s>Lestrade,ofScotlandYard,tolookinupon us of an evening, and his visits were wel- I cometoSherlockHolmes,fortheyenabled himtokeepintouchwithallthatwasgoingonatthe police head-quarters. In return for the news which Lestrade would bring, Holmes was always ready to listen with attention to the details of any case upon which the detective was engaged, and was able oc- casionally, without any active interference, to give some hint or suggestion drawn from his own vast knowledgeandexperience.</s>On this particular evening Lestrade had spoken of the weather and the newspapers. Then he had fallensilent,puffingthoughtfullyathiscigar. Holmes lookedkeenlyathim.</s>“Anythingremarkableonhand?”heasked.</s>“Oh,no,Mr.Holmes,nothingveryparticular.” “Thentellmeaboutit.” Lestradelaughed.</s>“Well, Mr. Holmes, there is no use denying that thereissomethingonmymind. Andyetitissuchan absurdbusinessthatIhesitatedtobotheryouabout it. On the other hand, although it is trivial, it is un- doubtedlyqueer,andIknowthatyouhaveatastefor all that is out of the common. But in my opinion it comesmoreinDr.Watson’slinethanours.” “Disease?”saidI.</s>“Madness, anyhow. And a queer madness too! You wouldn’t think there was anyone living at this timeofdaywhohadsuchahatredofNapoleonthe First that he would break any image of him that he couldsee.” Holmessankbackinhischair.</s>“That’snobusinessofmine,”saidhe.</s>“Exactly. That’s what I said. But then, when the mancommitsburglaryinordertobreakimageswhich arenothisown,thatbringsitawayfromthedoctor andontothepoliceman.” Holmessatupagain.</s>“Burglary! Thisismoreinteresting. Letmehear thedetails.” Lestrade took out his official note-book and re- freshedhismemoryfromitspages.</s>“Thefirstcasereportedwasfourdaysago,”said he. “ItwasattheshopofMorseHudson,whohasa placeforthesaleofpicturesandstatuesintheKen- nington Road. The assistant had left the front shop for an instant when he heard a crash, and hurrying inhefoundaplasterbustofNapoleon,whichstood withseveralotherworksofartuponthecounter,ly- ingshiveredintofragments. Herushedoutintothe road,but,althoughseveralpassers-bydeclaredthat theyhadnoticedamanrunoutoftheshop,hecould neither see anyone nor could he find any means of identifying the rascal. It seemed to be one of those senselessactsofHooliganismwhichoccurfromtime to time, and it was reported to the constable on the beat as such. The plaster cast was not worth more thanafewshillings,andthewholeaffairappearedto betoochildishforanyparticularinvestigation.</s>”Thesecondcase,however,wasmoreseriousand alsomoresingular. Itoccurredonlylastnight.</s>“InKenningtonRoad,andwithinafewhundred yards of Morse Hudson’s shop, there lives a well- knownmedicalpractitioner,namedDr.Barnicot,who hasoneofthelargestpracticesuponthesouthsideof theThames. Hisresidenceandprincipalconsulting- room is at Kennington Road, but he has a branch surgeryanddispensaryatLowerBrixtonRoad,two miles away. This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic ad- mirer of Napoleon, and his house is full of books, pictures,andrelicsoftheFrenchEmperor. Somelittle timeagohepurchasedfromMorseHudsontwodupli- cateplastercastsofthefamousheadofNapoleonby theFrenchsculptor,Devine. Oneoftheseheplaced inhishallinthehouseatKenningtonRoad,andthe otheronthemantelpieceofthesurgeryatLowerBrix- ton. Well,whenDr.Barnicotcamedownthismorning he was astonished to find that his house had been burgledduringthenight,butthatnothinghadbeen takensavetheplasterheadfromthehall. Ithadbeen carriedoutandhadbeendashedsavagelyagainstthe garden wall, under which its splintered fragments werediscovered.” Holmesrubbedhishands.</s>“Thisiscertainlyverynovel,”saidhe.</s>“Ithoughtitwouldpleaseyou. ButIhavenotgot totheendyet. Dr.Barnicotwasdueathissurgeryat twelveo’clock,andyoucanimaginehisamazement when, on arriving there, he found that the window had been opened in the night, and that the broken pieces of his second bust were strewn all over the room. Ithadbeensmashedtoatomswhereitstood.</s>Inneithercasewerethereanysignswhichcouldgive usaclueastothecriminalorlunaticwhohaddone the mischief. Now, Mr. Holmes, you have got the facts.” “They are singular, not to say grotesque,” said Holmes. “MayIaskwhetherthetwobustssmashed in Dr. Barnicot’s rooms were the exact duplicatesoftheonewhichwasdestroyedinMorseHudson’s shop?” “Theyweretakenfromthesamemould.” “Suchafactmusttellagainstthetheorythatthe manwhobreaksthemisinfluencedbyanygeneralha- tredofNapoleon. Consideringhowmanyhundreds ofstatuesofthegreatEmperormustexistinLondon, itistoomuchtosupposesuchacoincidenceasthata promiscuousiconoclastshouldchancetobeginupon threespecimensofthesamebust.” “Well, I thought as you do,” said Lestrade. “On the other hand, this Morse Hudson is the purveyor ofbustsinthatpartofLondon,andthesethreewere the only ones which had been in his shop for years.</s>So,although,asyousay,therearemanyhundredsof statuesinLondon,itisveryprobablethatthesethree weretheonlyonesinthatdistrict. Therefore,alocal fanatic would begin with them. What do you think, Dr.Watson?” “There are no limits to the possibilities of mono- mania,”Ianswered. “Thereistheconditionwhichthe modernFrenchpsychologistshavecalledthe‘ide´efixe,’ whichmaybetriflingincharacter,andaccompanied by complete sanity in every other way. A man who hadreaddeeplyaboutNapoleon,orwhohadpossi- bly received some hereditary family injury through the great war, might conceivably form such an ide´e fixeandunderitsinfluencebecapableofanyfantastic outrage.” “That won’t do, my dear Watson,” said Holmes, shakinghishead;“fornoamountofide´efixewoulden- ableyourinterestingmonomaniactofindoutwhere thesebustsweresituated.” “Well,howdoyouexplainit?” “I don’t attempt to do so. I would only observe thatthereisacertainmethodinthegentleman’sec- centric proceedings. For example, in Dr. Barnicot’s hall,whereasoundmightarousethefamily,thebust was taken outside before being broken, whereas in thesurgery,wheretherewaslessdangerofanalarm, it was smashed where it stood. The affair seems absurdly trifling, and yet I dare call nothing trivial whenIreflectthatsomeofmymostclassiccaseshave had the least promising commencement. You will remember,Watson,howthedreadfulbusinessofthe Abernetty family was first brought to my notice by thedepthwhichtheparsleyhadsunkintothebutter upon a hot day. I can’t afford, therefore, to smile at yourthreebrokenbusts,Lestrade,andIshallbevery much obliged to you if you will let me hear of any freshdevelopmentsofsosingularachainofevents.” Thedevelopmentforwhichmyfriendhadasked cameinaquickerandaninfinitelymoretragicform thanhecouldhaveimagined. Iwasstilldressingin mybedroomnextmorningwhentherewasatapat thedoorandHolmesentered,atelegraminhishand.</s>Hereaditaloud: “Comeinstantly,131,PittStreet,Kensing- ton.</s>—“Lestrade.” “Whatisit,then?”Iasked.</s>“Don’tknow—maybeanything. ButIsuspectit is the sequel of the story of the statues. In that case ourfriend,theimage-breaker,hasbegunoperations in another quarter of London. There’s coffee on the table,Watson,andIhaveacabatthedoor.” InhalfanhourwehadreachedPittStreet,aquiet littlebackwaterjustbesideoneofthebriskestcurrents of London life. No. 131 was one of a row, all flat- chested,respectable,andmostunromanticdwellings.</s>Aswedroveupwefoundtherailingsinfrontofthe houselinedbyacuriouscrowd. Holmeswhistled.</s>“By George! it’s attempted murder at the least.</s>Nothing less will hold the London message-boy.</s>There’s a deedof violence indicated in thatfellow’s roundshouldersandoutstretchedneck. What’sthis, Watson? The top steps swilled down and the other ones dry. Footsteps enough, anyhow! Well, well, there’s Lestrade at the front window, and we shall soonknowallaboutit.” Theofficialreceiveduswithaverygravefaceand showedusintoasitting-room,whereanexceedingly unkemptandagitatedelderlyman,cladinaflannel dressing-gown,waspacingupanddown. Hewasin- troducedtousastheownerofthehouse—Mr.Horace Harker,oftheCentralPressSyndicate.</s>“It’s the Napoleon bust business again,” said Lestrade. “You seemed interested last night, Mr.</s>Holmes, so I thought perhaps you would be glad to be present now that the affair has taken a very muchgraverturn.” “Whathasitturnedto,then?” “Tomurder. Mr.Harker,willyoutellthesegentle- menexactlywhathasoccurred?” The man in the dressing-gown turned upon us withamostmelancholyface.</s>“It’sanextraordinarything,”saidhe,“thatallmy life I have been collecting other people’s news, and nowthatarealpieceofnewshascomemyownway I am so confused and bothered that I can’t put two wordstogether. IfIhadcomeinhereasajournalistIshouldhaveinterviewedmyselfandhadtwocolumns ineveryeveningpaper. AsitisIamgivingawayvalu- ablecopybytellingmystoryoverandovertoastring ofdifferentpeople,andIcanmakenouseofitmyself.</s>However,I’veheardyourname,Mr.SherlockHolmes, andifyou’llonlyexplainthisqueerbusinessIshall bepaidformytroubleintellingyouthestory.” Holmessatdownandlistened.</s>“ItallseemstocentreroundthatbustofNapoleon whichIboughtforthisveryroomaboutfourmonths ago. IpickeditupcheapfromHardingBrothers,two doors from the High Street Station. A great deal of my journalistic work is done at night, and I often writeuntiltheearlymorning. Soitwasto-day. Iwas sitting in my den, which is at the back of the top of thehouse,aboutthreeo’clock,whenIwasconvinced thatIheardsomesoundsdownstairs. Ilistened,but they were not repeated, and I concluded that they came from outside. Then suddenly, about five min- uteslater,therecameamosthorribleyell—themost dreadfulsound,Mr.Holmes,thateverIheard. Itwill ring in my ears as long as I live. I sat frozen with horrorfor aminuteor two. ThenI seizedthepoker and went downstairs. When I entered this room I foundthewindowwideopen,andIatonceobserved that the bust was gone from the mantelpiece. Why anyburglarshouldtakesuchathingpassesmyun- derstanding,foritwasonlyaplastercastandofno realvaluewhatever.</s>“You can see for yourself that anyone going out through that open window could reach the front doorstep by taking a long stride. This was clearly what the burglar had done, so I went round and openedthedoor. SteppingoutintothedarkInearly felloveradeadmanwhowaslyingthere. Iranback for a light, and there was the poor fellow, a great gash in his throat and the whole place swimming in blood. He lay on his back, his knees drawn up, and his mouth horribly open. I shall see him in my dreams. Ihadjusttimetoblowonmypolice-whistle, andthenImusthavefainted,forIknewnothingmore untilIfoundthepolicemanstandingovermeinthe hall.” “Well, who was the murdered man?” asked Holmes.</s>“There’s nothing to show who he was,” said Lestrade. “Youshallseethebodyatthemortuary,but we have made nothing of it up to now. He is a tall man,sunburned,verypowerful,notmorethanthirty.</s>Heispoorlydressed,andyetdoesnotappeartobe a labourer. A horn-handled clasp knife was lying in a pool of blood beside him. Whether it was the weaponwhichdidthedeed,orwhetheritbelonged tothedeadman,Idonotknow. Therewasnoname on his clothing, and nothing in his pockets save an apple,somestring,ashillingmapofLondon,anda photograph. Hereitis.” Itwasevidentlytakenbyasnap-shotfromasmall camera. Itrepresentedanalert,sharp-featuredsimian manwiththickeyebrows,andaverypeculiarprojec- tionofthelowerpartofthefacelikethemuzzleofa baboon.</s>“And what became of the bust?” asked Holmes, afteracarefulstudyofthispicture.</s>“We had news of it just before you came. It has beenfoundinthefrontgardenofanemptyhousein CampdenHouseRoad. Itwasbrokenintofragments.</s>Iamgoingroundnowtoseeit. Willyoucome?” “Certainly. Imustjusttakeonelookround.”He examined the carpet and the window. “The fellow hadeitherverylonglegsorwasamostactiveman,” saidhe. “Withanareabeneath,itwasnomeanfeatto reachthatwindow-ledgeandopenthatwindow. Get- tingbackwascomparativelysimple. Areyoucoming withustoseetheremainsofyourbust,Mr.Harker?” Thedisconsolatejournalisthadseatedhimselfat awriting-table.</s>“I must try and make something of it,” said he, “thoughIhavenodoubtthatthefirsteditionsofthe eveningpapersareoutalreadywithfulldetails. It’s like my luck! You remember when the stand fell at Doncaster? Well,Iwastheonlyjournalistinthestand, andmyjournaltheonlyonethathadnoaccountof it, for I was too shaken to write it. And now I’ll be toolatewithamurderdoneonmyowndoorstep.” As we left the room we heard his pen travelling shrillyoverthefoolscap.</s>Thespotwherethefragmentsofthebusthadbeen found was only a few hundred yards away. For the firsttimeoureyesresteduponthispresentmentofthe greatEmperor,whichseemedtoraisesuchfranticand destructivehatredinthemindoftheunknown. Itlay scatteredinsplinteredshardsuponthegrass. Holmes pickedupseveralofthemandexaminedthemcare- fully. I was convinced from his intent face and his purposefulmannerthatatlasthewasuponaclue.</s>“Well?”askedLestrade.</s>Holmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“We have a long way to go yet,” said he. “And yet—and yet—well, we have some suggestive facts toactupon. Thepossessionofthistriflingbustwas worthmoreintheeyesofthisstrangecriminalthan a human life. That is one point. Then there is thesingularfactthathedidnotbreakitinthehouse,or immediatelyoutsidethehouse,iftobreakitwashis soleobject.” “Hewasrattledandbustledbymeetingthisother fellow. Hehardlyknewwhathewasdoing.” “Well, that’s likely enough. But I wish to call yourattentionveryparticularlytothepositionofthis houseinthegardenofwhichthebustwasdestroyed.” Lestradelookedabouthim.</s>“Itwasanemptyhouse,andsoheknewthathe wouldnotbedisturbedinthegarden.” “Yes,butthereisanotheremptyhousefartherup thestreetwhichhemusthavepassedbeforehecame tothisone. Whydidhenotbreakitthere,sinceitis evident that every yard that he carried it increased theriskofsomeonemeetinghim?” “Igiveitup,”saidLestrade.</s>Holmes pointed to the street lamp above our heads.</s>“He could see what he was doing here and he couldnotthere. Thatwashisreason.” “By Jove! that’s true,” said the detective. “Now that I come to think of it, Dr. Barnicot’s bust was brokennotfarfromhisredlamp. Well,Mr.Holmes, whatarewetodowiththatfact?” “Torememberit—todocketit. Wemaycomeon somethinglaterwhichwillbearuponit. Whatsteps doyouproposetotakenow,Lestrade?” “The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion,istoidentifythedeadman. Thereshouldbe nodifficultyaboutthat. Whenwehavefoundwhohe isandwhohisassociatesare,weshouldhaveagood startinlearningwhathewasdoinginPittStreetlast night,andwhoitwaswhomethimandkilledhimon thedoorstepofMr.HoraceHarker. Don’tyouthink so?” “Nodoubt;andyetitisnotquitethewayinwhich Ishouldapproachthecase.” “Whatwouldyoudo,then?” “Oh, you must not let me influence you in any way! I suggest that you go on your line and I on mine. We can compare notes afterwards, and each willsupplementtheother.” “Verygood,”saidLestrade.</s>“IfyouaregoingbacktoPittStreetyoumightsee Mr.HoraceHarker. TellhimfrommethatIhavequite made up my mind, and that it is certain that a dan- geroushomicidallunaticwithNapoleonicdelusions was in his house last night. It will be useful for his article.” Lestradestared.</s>“Youdon’tseriouslybelievethat?” Holmessmiled.</s>“Don’t I? Well, perhaps I don’t. But I am sure that it will interest Mr. Horace Harker and the sub- scribersoftheCentralPressSyndicate. Now,Watson, I think that we shall find that we have a long and rather complex day’s work before us. I should be glad, Lestrade, if you could make it convenient to meetusatBakerStreetatsixo’clockthisevening. Un- tilthenIshouldliketokeepthisphotographfoundin thedeadman’spocket. ItispossiblethatImayhave to ask your company and assistance upon a small expedition which will have be undertaken to-night, if my chain of reasoning should prove to be correct.</s>Untilthen,good-byeandgoodluck!” Sherlock Holmes and I walked together to the HighStreet,wherehestoppedattheshopofHarding Brothers, whence the bust had been purchased. A youngassistantinformedusthatMr.Hardingwould be absent until after noon, and that he was him- self a newcomer who could give us no information.</s>Holmes’sfaceshowedhisdisappointmentandannoy- ance.</s>“Well,well,wecan’texpecttohaveitallourown way, Watson,” he said, at last. “We must come back intheafternoonifMr.Hardingwillnotbehereuntil then. Iam,asyouhavenodoubtsurmised,endeav- ouring to trace these busts to their source, in order tofindifthereisnotsomethingpeculiarwhichmay accountfortheirremarkablefate. LetusmakeforMr.</s>Morse Hudson, of the Kennington Road, and see if hecanthrowanylightupontheproblem.” A drive of an hour brought us to the picture- dealer’s establishment. He was a small, stout man witharedfaceandapepperymanner.</s>“Yes,sir. Onmyverycounter,sir,”saidhe. “What we pay rates and taxes for I don’t know, when any ruffiancancomeinandbreakone’sgoods. Yes,sir,it wasIwhosoldDr.Barnicothistwostatues. Disgrace- ful,sir! ANihilistplot,that’swhatImakeit. Noone but an Anarchist would go about breaking statues.</s>Redrepublicans,that’swhatIcall’em. WhodidIget thestatuesfrom? Idon’tseewhatthathastodowith it. Well,ifyoureallywanttoknow,Igotthemfrom Gelder&Co., inChurchStreet, Stepney. Theyarea well-known house in the trade, and have been this twentyyears. HowmanyhadI?Three—twoandone arethree—twoofDr.Barnicot’sandonesmashedinbroad daylight on my own counter. Do I know that photograph? No,Idon’t. Yes,Ido,though. Why,it’s Beppo. HewasakindofItalianpiece-workman,who made himself useful in the shop. He could carve a bitandgildandframe,anddooddjobs. Thefellow leftmelastweek,andI’veheardnothingofhimsince.</s>No,Idon’tknowwherehecamefromnorwherehe wentto. Ihavenothingagainsthimwhilehewashere.</s>Hewasgonetwodaysbeforethebustwassmashed.” “Well,that’sallwecouldreasonablyexpecttoget from Morse Hudson,” said Holmes, as we emerged from the shop. “We have this Beppo as a common factor,bothinKenningtonandinKensington,sothat isworthaten-miledrive. Now,Watson,letusmake forGelder&Co.,ofStepney,thesourceandoriginof busts. Ishallbesurprisedifwedon’tgetsomehelp downthere.” Inrapidsuccessionwepassedthroughthefringe offashionableLondon,hotelLondon,theatricalLon- don, literary London, commercial London, and, fi- nally, maritime London, till we came to a riverside city of a hundred thousand souls, where the tene- ment houses swelter and reek with the outcasts of Europe. Here, in a broad thoroughfare, once the abodeofwealthyCitymerchants,wefoundthesculp- ture works for which we searched. Outside was a considerable yard full of monumental masonry. In- side was a large room in which fifty workers were carvingormoulding. Themanager,abigblondGer- man,receiveduscivilly,andgaveaclearanswertoall Holmes’squestions. Areferencetohisbooksshowed thathundredsofcastshadbeentakenfromamarble copyofDevine’sheadofNapoleon,butthatthethree which had been sent to Morse Hudson a year or so beforehadbeenhalfofabatchofsix,theotherthree beingsenttoHardingBrothers,ofKensington. There was no reason why those six should be different to anyoftheothercasts. Hecouldsuggestnopossible causewhyanyoneshouldwishtodestroythem—in fact, he laughed at the idea. Their wholesale price wassixshillings,buttheretailerwouldgettwelveor more. The cast was taken in two moulds from each sideoftheface,andthenthesetwoprofilesofplaster of Paris were joined together to make the complete bust. The work was usually done by Italians in the roomwewerein. Whenfinishedthebustswereput onatableinthepassagetodry,andafterwardsstored.</s>Thatwasallhecouldtellus.</s>But the production of the photograph had a re- markableeffectuponthemanager. Hisfaceflushed withanger,andhisbrowsknottedoverhisblueTeu- toniceyes.</s>“Ah, the rascal!” he cried. “Yes, indeed, I know him very well. This has always been a respectable establishment, and the only time that we have ever hadthepoliceinitwasoverthisveryfellow. Itwas morethanayearagonow. HeknifedanotherItalian inthestreet,andthenhecametotheworkswiththe police on his heels, and he was taken here. Beppo washisname—hissecondnameIneverknew. Serve merightforengagingamanwithsuchaface. Buthe wasagoodworkman,oneofthebest.” “Whatdidheget?” “Themanlivedandhegotoffwithayear. Ihave nodoubtheisoutnow;buthehasnotdaredtoshow hisnosehere. Wehaveacousinofhishere,andIdare sayhecouldtellyouwhereheis.” “No, no,” cried Holmes, “not a word to the cousin—not a word, I beg you. The matter is very important, and the farther I go with it the more im- portantitseemstogrow. Whenyoureferredinyour ledger to the sale of those casts I observed that the datewasJune3rdoflastyear. Couldyougivemethe datewhenBeppowasarrested?” “Icouldtellyouroughlybythepay-list,”theman- ageranswered. “Yes,”hecontinued,aftersometurn- ingoverofpages,“hewaspaidlastonMay20th.” “Thank you,” said Holmes. “I don’t think that I needintrudeuponyourtimeandpatienceanymore.” Withalastwordofcautionthatheshouldsaynothing as to our researches we turned our faces westward oncemore.</s>The afternoon was far advanced before we were able to snatch a hasty luncheon at a restaurant. A news-billattheentranceannounced“KensingtonOut- rage. MurderbyaMadman,”andthecontentsofthe papershowedthatMr.HoraceHarkerhadgothisac- countintoprintafterall. Twocolumnswereoccupied with a highly sensational and flowery rendering of the whole incident. Holmes propped it against the cruet-stand and read it while he ate. Once or twice hechuckled.</s>“Thisisallright,Watson,”saidhe. “Listentothis: “Itissatisfactorytoknowthattherecanbeno differenceofopinionuponthiscase,sinceMr.</s>Lestrade,oneofthemostexperiencedmembers oftheofficialforce,andMr.SherlockHolmes, the well-known consulting expert, have each come to the conclusion that the grotesque se- riesofincidents,whichhaveendedinsotragic a fashion, arise from lunacy rather than from deliberate crime. No explanation save mental aberrationcancoverthefacts.“The Press, Watson, is a most valuable institution if youonlyknowhowtouseit. Andnow,ifyouhave quitefinished,wewillharkbacktoKensingtonand seewhatthemanagerofHardingBrothershastosay tothematter.” Thefounderofthatgreatemporiumprovedtobe a brisk, crisp little person, very dapper and quick, withaclearheadandareadytongue.</s>“Yes, sir, I have already read the account in the eveningpapers. Mr.HoraceHarkerisacustomerof ours. We supplied him with the bust some months ago. WeorderedthreebustsofthatsortfromGelder &Co.,ofStepney. Theyareallsoldnow. Towhom? Oh,Idaresaybyconsultingoursalesbookwecould veryeasilytellyou. Yes,wehavetheentrieshere. One toMr.Harker,yousee,andonetoMr.JosiahBrown, ofLaburnumLodge,LaburnumVale,Chiswick,and onetoMr.Sandeford,ofLowerGroveRoad,Reading.</s>No,Ihaveneverseenthisfacewhichyoushowmein the photograph. You would hardly forget it, would you,sir,forI’veseldomseenanuglier. Haveweany Italiansonthestaff? Yes,sir,wehaveseveralamong ourworkpeopleandcleaners. Idaresaytheymight getapeepatthatsalesbookiftheywantedto. There isnoparticularreasonforkeepingawatchuponthat book. Well, well, it’s a very strange business, and I hope that you’ll let me know if anything comes of yourinquiries.” HolmeshadtakenseveralnotesduringMr.Hard- ing’sevidence,andIcouldseethathewasthoroughly satisfied by the turn which affairs were taking. He madenoremark,however,savethat,unlesswehur- ried, we should be late for our appointment with Lestrade. Sureenough,whenwereachedBakerStreet the detective was already there, and we found him pacing up and down in a fever of impatience. His look of importance showed that his day’s work had notbeeninvain.</s>“Well?”heasked. “Whatluck,Mr.Holmes?” “We have had a very busy day, and not entirely awastedone,”myfriendexplained. “Wehaveseen both the retailers and also the wholesale manufac- turers. I can trace each of the busts now from the beginning.” “Thebusts!”criedLestrade. “Well,well,youhave yourownmethods,Mr.SherlockHolmes,anditisnot formetosayawordagainstthem,butIthinkIhave doneabetterday’sworkthanyou. Ihaveidentified thedeadman.” “Youdon’tsayso?” “Andfoundacauseforthecrime.” “Splendid!” “Wehaveaninspectorwhomakesaspecialtyof Saffron Hill and the Italian quarter. Well, this dead manhadsomeCatholicemblemroundhisneck,and that, along with his colour, made me think he was fromtheSouth. InspectorHillknewhimthemoment he caught sight of him. His name is Pietro Venucci, fromNaples,andheisoneofthegreatestcut-throats in London. He is connected with the Mafia, which, as you know, is a secret political society, enforcing its decrees by murder. Now you see how the affair begins to clear up. The other fellow is probably an Italianalso,andamemberoftheMafia. Hehasbro- ken the rules in some fashion. Pietro is set upon his track. Probably the photograph we found in his pocket is the man himself, so that he may not knife the wrong person. He dogs the fellow, he sees him enter a house, he waits outside for him, and in the scufflehereceiveshisowndeath-wound. Howisthat, Mr.SherlockHolmes?” Holmesclappedhishandsapprovingly.</s>“Excellent, Lestrade, excellent!” he cried. “But I didn’t quite follow your explanation of the destruc- tionofthebusts.” “Thebusts! Younevercangetthosebustsoutof your head. After all, that is nothing; petty larceny, sixmonthsatthemost. Itisthemurderthatweare reallyinvestigating,andItellyouthatIamgathering allthethreadsintomyhands.” “Andthenextstage?” “Isaverysimpleone. IshallgodownwithHillto the Italian quarter, find the man whose photograph wehavegot,andarresthimonthechargeofmurder.</s>Willyoucomewithus?” “I think not. I fancy we can attain our end in a simpler way. I can’t say for certain, because it all depends—well, it all depends upon a factor which is completely outside our control. But I have great hopes—infact,thebettingisexactlytwotoone—that if you will come with us to-night I shall be able to helpyoutolayhimbytheheels.” “IntheItalianquarter?” “No; I fancy Chiswick is an address which is more likely to find him. If you will come with me to Chiswick to-night, Lestrade, I’ll promise to go to theItalianquarterwithyouto-morrow,andnoharm willbedonebythedelay. AndnowIthinkthatafew hours’ sleep would do us all good, for I do not pro- posetoleavebeforeeleveno’clock,anditisunlikely that we shall be back before morning. You’ll dine with us, Lestrade, and then you are welcome to thesofa until it is time for us to start. In the meantime, Watson, I should be glad if you would ring for an expressmessenger,forIhavealettertosend,andit isimportantthatitshouldgoatonce.” Holmesspenttheeveninginrummagingamong the files of the old daily papers with which one of our lumber-rooms was packed. When at last he de- scendeditwaswithtriumphinhiseyes,buthesaid nothingtoeitherofusastotheresultofhisresearches.</s>Formyownpart,Ihadfollowedstepbystepthemeth- odsbywhichhehadtracedthevariouswindingsof this complex case, and, though I could not yet per- ceive the goal which we would reach, I understood clearlythatHolmesexpectedthisgrotesquecriminal to make an attempt upon the two remaining busts, one of which, I remembered, was at Chiswick. No doubttheobjectofourjourneywastocatchhiminthe veryact,andIcouldnotbutadmirethecunningwith which my friend had inserted a wrong clue in the evening paper, so as to give the fellow the idea that he could continue his scheme with impunity. I was notsurprisedwhenHolmessuggestedthatIshould take my revolver with me. He had himself picked uptheloadedhunting-cropwhichwashisfavourite weapon.</s>A four-wheeler was at the door at eleven, and in it we drove to a spot at the other side of Ham- mersmith Bridge. Here the cabman was directed to wait. A short walk brought us to a secluded road fringed with pleasant houses, each standing in its own grounds. In the light of a street lamp we read “LaburnumVilla”uponthegate-postofoneofthem.</s>The occupants had evidently retired to rest, for all wasdarksaveforafanlightoverthehalldoor,which shedasingleblurredcircleontothegardenpath. The woodenfencewhichseparatedthegroundsfromthe roadthrewadenseblackshadowupontheinnerside, andhereitwasthatwecrouched.</s>“Ifearthatyou’llhavealongwait,”Holmeswhis- pered. “Wemaythankourstarsthatitisnotraining.</s>I don’t think we can even venture to smoke to pass the time. However, it’s a two to one chance that we getsomethingtopayusforourtrouble.” It proved, however, that our vigil was not to be so long as Holmes had led us to fear, and it ended inaverysuddenandsingularfashion. Inaninstant, withouttheleastsoundtowarnusofhiscoming,the gardengateswungopen,andalithe,darkfigure,as swiftandactiveasanape,rushedupthegardenpath.</s>Wesawitwhiskpastthelightthrownfromoverthe dooranddisappearagainsttheblackshadowofthe house. Therewasalongpause,duringwhichweheld our breath, and then a very gentle creaking sound came to our ears. The window was being opened.</s>Thenoiseceased,andagaintherewasalongsilence.</s>The fellow was making his way into the house. We saw the sudden flash of a dark lantern inside the room. What he sought was evidently not there, for again we saw the flash through another blind, and thenthroughanother.</s>“Letusgettotheopenwindow. Wewillnabhim asheclimbsout,”Lestradewhispered.</s>Butbeforewecouldmovethemanhademerged again. Ashecameoutintotheglimmeringpatchof lightwesawthathecarriedsomethingwhiteunder his arm. He looked stealthily all round him. The silence of the deserted street reassured him. Turn- ing his back upon us he laid down his burden, and the next instant there was the sound of a sharp tap, followed by a clatter and rattle. The man was so in- tent upon what he was doing that he never heard ourstepsaswestoleacrossthegrassplot. Withthe bound of a tiger Holmes was on his back, and an instant later Lestrade and I had him by either wrist andthehandcuffshadbeenfastened. Asweturned himoverIsawahideous,sallowface,withwrithing, furiousfeatures,glaringupatus,andIknewthatit wasindeedthemanofthephotographwhomwehad secured.</s>ButitwasnotourprisonertowhomHolmeswas giving his attention. Squatted on the doorstep, he wasengagedinmostcarefullyexaminingthatwhich the man had brought from the house. It was a bust of Napoleon like the one which we had seen that morning, and it had been broken into similar frag- ments. CarefullyHolmesheldeachseparateshardto the light, but in no way did it differ from any other shatteredpieceofplaster. Hehadjustcompletedhis examination when the hall lights flew up, the door opened,andtheownerofthehouse,ajovial,rotund figureinshirtandtrousers,presentedhimself.</s>“Mr.JosiahBrown,Isuppose?”saidHolmes.</s>“Yes, sir; and you, no doubt, are Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I had the note which you sent by the ex- pressmessenger,andIdidexactlywhatyoutoldme.</s>Welockedeverydoorontheinsideandawaitedde- velopments. Well,I’mverygladtoseethatyouhave gottherascal. Ihope,gentlemen,thatyouwillcome inandhavesomerefreshment.” However,Lestradewasanxioustogethismaninto safe quarters, so within a few minutes our cab had beensummonedandwewereallfouruponourway to London. Not a word would our captive say; but he glared at us from the shadow of his matted hair,and once, when my hand seemed within his reach, hesnappedatitlikeahungrywolf. Westayedlong enoughatthepolice-stationtolearnthatasearchof hisclothingrevealednothingsaveafewshillingsand alongsheathknife,thehandleofwhichborecopious tracesofrecentblood.</s>“That’s all right,” said Lestrade, as we parted.</s>“Hillknowsallthesegentry,andhewillgiveaname to him. You’ll find that my theory of the Mafia will work out all right. But I’m sure I am exceedingly obligedtoyou,Mr.Holmes,fortheworkmanlikeway in which you laid hands upon him. I don’t quite understanditallyet.” “I fear it is rather too late an hour for explana- tions,” said Holmes. “Besides, there are one or two details which are not finished off, and it is one of thosecaseswhichareworthworkingouttothevery end. Ifyouwillcomeroundoncemoretomyrooms at six o’clock to-morrow I think I shall be able to show you that even now you have not grasped the entiremeaningofthisbusiness,whichpresentssome featureswhichmakeitabsolutelyoriginalinthehis- tory of crime. If ever I permit you to chronicle any moreofmylittleproblems,Watson,Iforeseethatyou willenlivenyourpagesbyanaccountofthesingular adventureoftheNapoleonicbusts.” When we met again next evening Lestrade was furnishedwithmuchinformationconcerningourpris- oner. Hisname,itappeared,wasBeppo,secondname unknown. Hewasawell-knownne’er-do-wellamong theItaliancolony. Hehadoncebeenaskilfulsculptor andhadearnedanhonestliving,buthehadtakento evilcoursesandhadtwicealreadybeeninjail—once for a petty theft and once, as we had already heard, forstabbingafellow-countryman. HecouldtalkEn- glish perfectly well. His reasons for destroying the bustswerestillunknown,andherefusedtoanswer any questions upon the subject; but the police had discoveredthatthesesamebustsmightverywellhave beenmadebyhisownhands,sincehewasengaged in this class of work at the establishment of Gelder & Co. To all this information, much of which we alreadyknew,Holmeslistenedwithpoliteattention; but I, who knew him so well, could clearly see that histhoughtswereelsewhere,andIdetectedamixture ofmingleduneasinessandexpectationbeneaththat maskwhichhewaswonttoassume. Atlasthestarted inhischairandhiseyesbrightened. Therehadbeen aringatthebell. Aminutelaterweheardstepsupon thestairs,andanelderly,red-facedmanwithgrizzled side-whiskers was ushered in. In his right hand he carriedanold-fashionedcarpet-bag,whichheplaced uponthetable.</s>“IsMr.SherlockHolmeshere?” Myfriendbowedandsmiled. “Mr.Sandeford,of Reading,Isuppose?”saidhe.</s>“Yes,sir,IfearthatIamalittlelate;butthetrains wereawkward. Youwrotetomeaboutabustthatis inmypossession.” “Exactly.” “Ihaveyourletterhere. Yousaid,‘Idesiretopos- sessacopyofDevine’sNapoleon,andamprepared to pay you ten pounds for the one which is in your possession.’ Isthatright?” “Certainly.” “I was very much surprised at your letter, for I couldnotimaginehowyouknewthatIownedsuch athing.” “Ofcourseyoumusthavebeensurprised,butthe explanationisverysimple. Mr.Harding,ofHarding Brothers,saidthattheyhadsoldyoutheirlastcopy, andhegavemeyouraddress.” “Oh, that was it, was it? Did he tell you what I paidforit?” “No,hedidnot.” “Well,Iamanhonestman,thoughnotaveryrich one. I only gave fifteen shillings for the bust, and I thinkyououghttoknowthatbeforeItaketenpounds fromyou.” “Iamsurethescrupledoesyouhonour,Mr.Sande- ford. ButIhavenamedthatprice,soIintendtostick toit.” “Well,itisveryhandsomeofyou,Mr.Holmes. I broughtthebustupwithme,asyouaskedmetodo.</s>Here it is!” He opened his bag, and at last we saw placed upon our table a complete specimen of that bust which we had already seen more than once in fragments.</s>Holmes took a paper from his pocket and laid a ten-poundnoteuponthetable.</s>“You will kindly sign that paper, Mr. Sandeford, inthepresenceofthesewitnesses. Itissimplytosay that you transfer every possible right that you ever had in the bust to me. I am a methodical man, you see,andyouneverknowwhatturneventsmighttake afterwards. Thank you, Mr. Sandeford; here is your money,andIwishyouaverygoodevening.” When our visitor had disappeared Sherlock Holmes’s movements were such as to rivet our at- tention. Hebeganbytakingacleanwhiteclothfrom adrawerandlayingitoverthetable. Thenheplaced his newly-acquired bust in the centre of the cloth.Finally, he picked up his hunting-crop and struck Napoleon a sharp blow on the top of the head. The figurebrokeintofragments,andHolmesbenteagerly overtheshatteredremains. Nextinstant,withaloud shoutoftriumph,hehelduponesplinter,inwhicha round,darkobjectwasfixedlikeapluminapudding.</s>“Gentlemen,” he cried, “let me introduce you to thefamousblackpearloftheBorgias.” LestradeandIsatsilentforamoment,andthen, withaspontaneousimpulse,webothbrokeoutclap- ping as at the well-wrought crisis of a play. A flush of colour sprang to Holmes’s pale cheeks, and he bowed to us like the master dramatist who receives thehomageofhisaudience. Itwasatsuchmoments that for an instant he ceased to be a reasoning ma- chine, and betrayed his human love for admiration and applause. The same singularly proud and re- servednaturewhichturnedawaywithdisdainfrom popularnotorietywascapableofbeingmovedtoits depths by spontaneous wonder and praise from a friend.</s>“Yes,gentlemen,”saidhe,“itisthemostfamous pearlnowexistingintheworld,andithasbeenmy goodfortune,byaconnectedchainofinductiverea- soning, to trace it from the Prince ofColonna’s bed- room at the Dacre Hotel, where it was lost, to the interiorofthis, thelastofthesixbustsofNapoleon whichweremanufacturedbyGelder&Co.,ofStepney.</s>You will remember, Lestrade, the sensation caused bythedisappearanceofthisvaluablejewel,andthe vaineffortsoftheLondonpolicetorecoverit. Iwas myselfconsulteduponthecase;butIwasunableto throwanylightuponit. Suspicionfelluponthemaid ofthePrincess,whowasanItalian,anditwasproved that she had a brother in London, but we failed to traceanyconnectionbetweenthem. Themaid’sname was Lucretia Venucci, and there is no doubt in my mindthatthisPietrowhowasmurderedtwonights agowasthebrother. Ihavebeenlookingupthedates in the old files of the paper, and I find that the dis- appearanceofthepearlwasexactlytwodaysbefore the arrest of Beppo for some crime of violence, an event which took place in the factory of Gelder & Co.,attheverymomentwhenthesebustswerebeing made. Now you clearly see the sequence of events, thoughyouseethem,ofcourse,intheinverseorder tothewayinwhichtheypresentedthemselvestome.</s>Beppohadthepearlinhispossession. Hemayhave stolenitfromPietro,hemayhavebeenPietro’scon- federate,hemayhavebeenthego-betweenofPietro andhissister. Itisofnoconsequencetouswhichis thecorrectsolution.</s>“Themainfactisthathehadthepearl,andatthat moment,whenitwasonhisperson,hewaspursued by the police. He made for the factory in which he worked,andheknewthathehadonlyafewminutes in which to conceal this enormously valuable prize, which would otherwise be found on him when he wassearched. SixplastercastsofNapoleonweredry- inginthepassage. Oneofthemwasstillsoft. Inan instantBeppo,askilfulworkman,madeasmallhole in the wet plaster, dropped in the pearl, and with a fewtouchescoveredovertheapertureoncemore. It was an admirable hiding-place. No one could pos- sibly find it. But Beppo was condemned to a year’s imprisonment, and in the meanwhile his six busts werescatteredoverLondon. Hecouldnottellwhich containedhistreasure. Onlybybreakingthemcould hesee. Evenshakingwouldtellhimnothing,foras the plaster was wet it was probable that the pearl would adhere to it—as, in fact, it has done. Beppo did not despair, and he conducted his search with considerable ingenuity and perseverance. Through a cousin who works with Gelder he found out the retailfirmswhohadboughtthebusts. Hemanaged tofindemploymentwithMorseHudson,andinthat waytrackeddownthreeofthem. Thepearlwasnot there. Then,withthehelpofsomeItalianemploye,he succeededinfindingoutwheretheotherthreebusts had gone. The first was at Harker’s. There he was doggedbyhisconfederate,whoheldBepporespon- sibleforthelossofthepearl,andhestabbedhimin thescufflewhichfollowed.” “If he was his confederate why should he carry hisphotograph?”Iasked.</s>“As a means of tracing him if he wished to in- quireabouthimfromanythirdperson. Thatwasthe obvious reason. Well, after the murder I calculated thatBeppowouldprobablyhurryratherthandelay hismovements. Hewouldfearthatthepolicewould read his secret, and so he hastened on before they should get ahead of him. Of course, I could not say that he had not found the pearl in Harker’s bust. I had not even concluded for certain that it was the pearl; but it was evident to me that he was looking forsomething,sincehecarriedthebustpasttheother housesinordertobreakitinthegardenwhichhad a lamp overlooking it. Since Harker’s bust was one in three the chances were exactly as I told you, two to one against the pearl being inside it. There re- mainedtwobusts,anditwasobviousthathewould gofortheLondononefirst. Iwarnedtheinmatesof the house, so as to avoid a second tragedy, and we went down with the happiest results. By that time,of course, I knew for certain that it was the Borgia pearlthatwewereafter. Thenameofthemurdered manlinkedtheoneeventwiththeother. Thereonly remained a single bust—the Reading one—and the pearlmustbethere. Iboughtitinyourpresencefrom theowner—andthereitlies.” Wesatinsilenceforamoment.</s>“Well,” said Lestrade, “I’ve seen you handle a goodmanycases,Mr.Holmes,butIdon’tknowthat Ieverknewamoreworkmanlikeonethanthat. We’re not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are veryproudofyou,andifyoucomedownto-morrow there’s not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake youbythehand.” “Thankyou!”saidHolmes. “Thankyou!”andas he turned away it seemed to me that he was more nearly moved by the softer human emotions than I hadeverseenhim. Amomentlaterhewasthecold andpracticalthinkeroncemore. “Putthepearlinthe safe,Watson,”saidhe,“andgetoutthepapersofthe Conk-Singletonforgerycase. Good-bye,Lestrade. If anylittleproblemcomesyourwayIshallbehappy,if Ican,togiveyouahintortwoastoitssolution.”twasintheyear’95thatacombinationof events,intowhichIneednotenter,caused Mr.SherlockHolmesandmyselftospend I someweeksinoneofourgreatUniversity towns, and it was during this time that the small butinstructiveadventurewhichIamabouttorelate befell us. It will be obvious that any details which wouldhelpthereadertoexactlyidentifythecollege or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive.</s>Sopainfulascandalmaywellbeallowedtodieout.</s>Withduediscretiontheincidentitselfmay,however, bedescribed,sinceitservestoillustratesomeofthose qualitiesforwhichmyfriendwasremarkable. Iwill endeavour in my statement to avoid such terms as wouldservetolimittheeventstoanyparticularplace, orgiveaclueastothepeopleconcerned.</s>We were residing at the time in furnished lodg- ings close to a library where Sherlock Holmes was pursuingsomelaboriousresearchesinearlyEnglish charters—researcheswhichledtoresultssostriking thattheymaybethesubjectofoneofmyfuturenar- ratives. Here it was that one evening we received a visitfromanacquaintance,Mr.HiltonSoames,tutor andlecturerattheCollegeofSt.Luke’s. Mr.Soames wasatall,spareman,ofanervousandexcitabletem- perament. Ihadalwaysknownhimtoberestlessin his manner, but on this particular occasion he was insuchastateofuncontrollableagitationthatitwas clearsomethingveryunusualhadoccurred.</s>“Itrust,Mr.Holmes,thatyoucansparemeafew hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painfulincidentatSt.Luke’s,andreally,butforthe happy chance of your being in the town, I should havebeenatalosswhattodo.” “Iamverybusyjustnow,andIdesirenodistrac- tions,” my friend answered. “I should much prefer thatyoucalledintheaidofthepolice.” “No,no,mydearsir;suchacourseisutterlyim- possible. When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayedagain,andthisisjustoneofthosecaseswhere, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as yourpowers,andyouaretheonemanintheworld whocanhelpme. Ibegyou,Mr.Holmes,todowhat youcan.” My friend’s temper had not improved since he hadbeendeprivedofthecongenialsurroundingsof BakerStreet. Withouthisscrap-books,hischemicals, andhishomelyuntidiness,hewasanuncomfortable man. Heshruggedhisshouldersinungraciousacqui- escence,whileourvisitorinhurriedwordsandwith muchexcitablegesticulationpouredforthhisstory.</s>“I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to- morrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue Scholarship. I am one of the examiners.</s>My subject is Greek, and the first of the papers con- sistsofalargepassageofGreektranslationwhichthe candidate has not seen. This passage is printed on theexaminationpaper,anditwouldnaturallybean immenseadvantageifthecandidatecouldprepareit inadvance. Forthisreasongreatcareistakentokeep thepapersecret.</s>“To-dayaboutthreeo’clocktheproofsofthispa- per arrived from the printers. The exercise consists ofhalfachapterofThucydides. Ihadtoreaditover carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At four-thirty my task was not yet completed. I had, however,promisedtotaketeainafriend’srooms,so I left the proof upon my desk. I was absent rather morethananhour.</s>“You are aware, Mr. Holmes, that our college doors are double—a green baize one within and a heavy oak one without. As I approached my outer doorIwasamazedtoseeakeyinit. ForaninstantI imaginedthatIhadleftmyownthere,butonfeeling in my pocket I found that it was all right. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was that whichbelongedtomyservant,Bannister,amanwho has looked after my room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that thekeywasindeedhis,thathehadenteredmyroom to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very care- lesslyleftthekeyinthedoorwhenhecameout. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutesofmyleavingit. Hisforgetfulnessaboutthe keywouldhavematteredlittleuponanyotherocca- sion, but on this one day it has produced the most deplorableconsequences.</s>“The moment I looked at my table I was aware thatsomeonehadrummagedamongmypapers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them all to- gether. Now, Ifoundthatoneofthemwaslyingon thefloor,onewasonthesidetablenearthewindow, andthethirdwaswhereIhadleftit.” Holmesstirredforthefirsttime.</s>“The first page on the floor, the second in the window,thethirdwhereyouleftit,”saidhe.</s>“Exactly,Mr.Holmes. Youamazeme. Howcould youpossiblyknowthat?” “Praycontinueyourveryinterestingstatement.” “For an instant I imagined that Bannister had takentheunpardonablelibertyofexaminingmypa- pers. Hedeniedit,however,withtheutmostearnest- ness, and I am convinced that he was speaking thetruth. Thealternativewasthatsomeonepassinghad observedthekeyinthedoor,hadknownthatIwas out, and had entered to look at the papers. A large sumofmoneyisatstake,forthescholarshipisavery valuableone,andanunscrupulousmanmightvery wellrunariskinordertogainanadvantageoverhis fellows.</s>“Bannisterwasverymuchupsetbytheincident.</s>Hehadnearlyfaintedwhenwefoundthatthepapers hadundoubtedlybeentamperedwith. Igavehima little brandy and left him collapsed in a chair while I made a most careful examination of the room. I soonsawthattheintruderhadleftothertracesofhis presencebesidestherumpledpapers. Onthetablein thewindowwereseveralshredsfromapencilwhich hadbeensharpened. Abrokentipofleadwaslying therealso. Evidentlytherascalhadcopiedthepaper inagreathurry,hadbrokenhispencil,andhadbeen compelledtoputafreshpointtoit.” “Excellent!”saidHolmes,whowasrecoveringhis good-humourashisattentionbecamemoreengrossed bythecase. “Fortunehasbeenyourfriend.” “Thiswasnotall. Ihaveanewwriting-tablewith afinesurfaceofredleather. Iampreparedtoswear, andsoisBannister,thatitwassmoothandunstained.</s>Now I found a clean cut in it about three inches long—notamerescratch,butapositivecut. Notonly this, but on the table I found a small ball of black dough,orclay,withspecksofsomethingwhichlooks like sawdust in it. I am convinced that these marks were left by the man who rifled the papers. There were no footmarks and no other evidence as to his identity. Iwasatmywits’ends,whensuddenlythe happy thought occurred to me that you were in the town, and I came straight round to put the matter into your hands. Do help me, Mr. Holmes! You see mydilemma. EitherImustfindthemanorelsethe examinationmustbepostponeduntilfreshpapersare prepared,andsincethiscannotbedonewithoutex- planationtherewillensueahideousscandal,which will throw a cloud not only on the college, but on theUniversity. AboveallthingsIdesiretosettlethe matterquietlyanddiscreetly.” “I shall be happy to look into it and to give you suchadviceasIcan,”saidHolmes,risingandputting on his overcoat. “The case is not entirely devoid of interest. Hadanyonevisitedyouinyourroomafter thepaperscametoyou?” “Yes; young Daulat Ras, an Indian student who livesonthesamestair,cameintoaskmesomepar- ticularsabouttheexamination.” “Forwhichhewasentered?” “Yes.” “Andthepaperswereonyourtable?” “Tothebestofmybelieftheywererolledup.” “Butmightberecognisedasproofs?” “Possibly.” “Nooneelseinyourroom?” “No.” “Did anyone know that these proofs would be there?” “Noonesavetheprinter.” “DidthismanBannisterknow?” “No,certainlynot. Nooneknew.” “WhereisBannisternow?” “Hewasveryill,poorfellow. Ilefthimcollapsed inthechair. Iwasinsuchahurrytocometoyou.” “Youleftyourdooropen?” “Ilockedupthepapersfirst.” “Thenitamountstothis,Mr.Soames,thatunless theIndianstudentrecognisedtherollasbeingproofs, themanwhotamperedwiththemcameuponthem accidentallywithoutknowingthattheywerethere.” “Soitseemstome.” Holmesgaveanenigmaticsmile.</s>“Well,”saidhe,“letusgoround. Notoneofyour cases,Watson—mental,notphysical. Allright;come ifyouwantto. Now,Mr.Soames—atyourdisposal!” The sitting-room of our client opened by a long, low, latticedwindowontotheancientlichen-tinted court of the old college. A Gothic arched door led to a worn stone staircase. On the ground floor was thetutor’sroom. Abovewerethreestudents,oneon eachstory. Itwasalreadytwilightwhenwereached thesceneofourproblem. Holmeshaltedandlooked earnestlyatthewindow. Thenheapproachedit,and, standing on tiptoe with his neck craned, he looked intotheroom.</s>“He must have entered through the door. There isnoopeningexcepttheonepane,”saidourlearned guide.</s>“Dearme!”saidHolmes,andhesmiledinasin- gularwayasheglancedatourcompanion. “Well,if there is nothing to be learned here we had best go inside.” Thelecturerunlockedtheouterdoorandushered us into his room. We stood at the entrance while Holmesmadeanexaminationofthecarpet.</s>“I am afraid there are no signs here,” said he.</s>“One could hardly hope for any upon so dry a day.Yourservantseemstohavequiterecovered. Youleft himinachair,yousay;whichchair?” “Bythewindowthere.” “I see. Near this little table. You can come in now. Ihavefinishedwiththecarpet. Letustakethe littletablefirst. Ofcourse,whathashappenedisvery clear. Themanenteredandtookthepapers,sheetby sheet,fromthecentraltable. Hecarriedthemoverto thewindowtable,becausefromtherehecouldseeif youcameacrossthecourtyard,andsocouldeffectan escape.” “As a matter of fact he could not,” said Soames, “forIenteredbythesidedoor.” “Ah, that’s good! Well, anyhow, that was in his mind. Letmeseethethreestrips. Nofingerimpres- sions—no! Well,hecarriedoverthisonefirstandhe copied it. How long would it take him to do that, using every possible contraction? A quarter of an hour, not less. Then he tossed it down and seized the next. He was in the midst of that when your re- turncausedhimtomakeaveryhurriedretreat—very hurried,sincehehadnottimetoreplacethepapers which would tell you that he had been there. You were not aware of any hurrying feet on the stair as youenteredtheouterdoor?” “No,Ican’tsayIwas.” “Well,hewrotesofuriouslythathebrokehispen- cil,andhad,asyouobserve,tosharpenitagain. This isofinterest,Watson. Thepencilwasnotanordinary one. Itwasabovetheusualsize,withasoftlead;the outer colour was dark blue, the maker’s name was printedinsilverlettering,andthepieceremainingis only about an inch and a half long. Look for such a pencil, Mr. Soames, and you have got your man.</s>WhenIaddthathepossessesalargeandveryblunt knife,youhaveanadditionalaid.” Mr.Soameswassomewhatoverwhelmedbythis floodofinformation. “Icanfollowtheotherpoints,” saidhe,“butreally,inthismatterofthelength—” HolmesheldoutasmallchipwiththelettersNN andaspaceofclearwoodafterthem.</s>“Yousee?” “No,Ifearthatevennow—” “Watson, I have always done you an injustice.</s>There are others. What could this NN be? It is at theendofaword. YouareawarethatJohannFaber is the most common maker’s name. Is it not clear thatthereisjustasmuchofthepencilleftasusually follows the Johann?” He held the small table side- ways to the electric light. “I was hoping that if the paper on which he wrote was thin some trace of it mightcomethroughuponthispolishedsurface. No, I see nothing. I don’t think there is anything more to be learned here. Now for the central table. This smallpelletis,Ipresume,theblack,doughymassyou spokeof. Roughlypyramidalinshapeandhollowed out,Iperceive. Asyousay,thereappeartobegrains of sawdust in it. Dear me, this is very interesting.</s>And the cut—a positive tear, I see. It began with a thinscratchandendedinajaggedhole. Iammuch indebtedtoyoufordirectingmyattentiontothiscase, Mr.Soames. Wheredoesthatdoorleadto?” “Tomybedroom.” “Haveyoubeeninitsinceyouradventure?” “No;Icamestraightawayforyou.” “I should like to have a glance round. What a charming, old-fashioned room! Perhaps you will kindlywaitaminuteuntilIhaveexaminedthefloor.</s>No,Iseenothing. Whataboutthiscurtain? Youhang yourclothesbehindit. Ifanyonewereforcedtocon- ceal himself in this room he must do it there, since thebedistoolowandthewardrobetooshallow. No onethere,Isuppose?” As Holmes drew the curtain I was aware, from somelittlerigidityandalertnessofhisattitude,that hewaspreparedforanemergency. Asamatteroffact thedrawncurtaindisclosednothingbutthreeorfour suitsofclotheshangingfromalineofpegs. Holmes turnedawayandstoopedsuddenlytothefloor.</s>“Halloa! What’sthis?”saidhe.</s>Itwasasmallpyramidofblack,putty-likestuff,ex- actlyliketheoneuponthetableofthestudy. Holmes helditoutonhisopenpalmintheglareoftheelectric light.</s>“Yourvisitorseemstohavelefttracesinyourbed- roomaswellasinyoursitting-room,Mr.Soames.” “Whatcouldhehavewantedthere?” “I think it is clear enough. You came back by an unexpectedway,andsohehadnowarninguntilyou wereattheverydoor. Whatcouldhedo? Hecaught upeverythingwhichwouldbetrayhimandherushed intoyourbedroomtoconcealhimself.” “Goodgracious,Mr.Holmes,doyoumeantotell methatallthetimeIwastalkingtoBannisterinthis roomwehadthemanprisonerifwehadonlyknown it?” “SoIreadit.” “Surely there is another alternative, Mr. Holmes.</s>I don’t know whether you observed my bedroom window?”“Lattice-paned, lead framework, three separate windows, one swinging on hinge and large enough toadmitaman.” “Exactly. Anditlooksoutonanangleofthecourt- yardsoastobepartlyinvisible. Themanmighthave effected his entrance there, left traces as he passed through the bedroom, and, finally, finding the door openhaveescapedthatway.” Holmesshookhisheadimpatiently.</s>“Letusbepractical,”saidhe. “Iunderstandyou tosaythattherearethreestudentswhousethisstair andareinthehabitofpassingyourdoor?” “Yes,thereare.” “Andtheyareallinforthisexamination?” “Yes.” “Haveyouanyreasontosuspectanyoneofthem morethantheothers?” Soameshesitated.</s>“It is a very delicate question,” said he. “One hardly likes to throw suspicion where there are no proofs.” “Let us hear the suspicions. I will look after the proofs.“ “Iwilltellyou,then,inafewwordsthecharacter ofthethreemenwhoinhabittheserooms. Thelower of the three is Gilchrist, a fine scholar and athlete; playsintheRugbyteamandthecricketteamforthe college,andgothisBlueforthehurdlesandthelong jump. Heisafine,manlyfellow. Hisfatherwasthe notoriousSirJabezGilchrist,whoruinedhimselfon theturf. Myscholarhasbeenleftverypoor,butheis hard-workingandindustrious. Hewilldowell.</s>“ThesecondfloorisinhabitedbyDaulatRas,the Indian. He is a quiet, inscrutable fellow, as most of thoseIndiansare. Heiswellupinhiswork,though his Greek is his weak subject. He is steady and me- thodical.</s>“ThetopfloorbelongstoMilesMcLaren. Heisa brilliantfellowwhenhechoosestowork—oneofthe brightest intellects of the University, but he is way- ward, dissipated, and unprincipled. He was nearly expelledoveracardscandalinhisfirstyear. Hehas been idling all this term, and he must look forward withdreadtotheexamination.” “Thenitishewhomyoususpect?” “Idarenotgosofarasthat. Butofthethreeheis perhapstheleastunlikely.” “Exactly. Now,Mr.Soames,letushavealookat yourservant,Bannister.” Hewasalittle,white-faced,clean-shaven,grizzly- hairedfellowoffifty. Hewasstillsufferingfromthis sudden disturbance of the quiet routine of his life.</s>Hisplumpfacewastwitchingwithhisnervousness, andhisfingerscouldnotkeepstill.</s>“Weareinvestigatingthisunhappybusiness,Ban- nister,”saidhismaster.</s>“Yes,sir.” “Iunderstand,”saidHolmes,“thatyouleftyour keyinthedoor?” “Yes,sir.” “Wasitnotveryextraordinarythatyoushoulddo this on the very day when there were these papers inside?” “Itwasmostunfortunate,sir. ButIhaveoccasion- allydonethesamethingatothertimes.” “Whendidyouentertheroom?” “Itwasabouthalf-pastfour. ThatisMr.Soames’s teatime.” “Howlongdidyoustay?” “When I saw that he was absent I withdrew at once.” “Didyoulookatthesepapersonthetable?” “No,sir;certainlynot.” “Howcameyoutoleavethekeyinthedoor?” “Ihadthetea-trayinmyhand. IthoughtIwould comebackforthekey. ThenIforgot.” “Hastheouterdooraspringlock?” “No,sir.” “Thenitwasopenallthetime?” “Yes,sir.” “Anyoneintheroomcouldgetout?” “Yes,sir.” “When Mr. Soames returned and called for you, youwereverymuchdisturbed?” “Yes,sir. Suchathinghasneverhappenedduring themanyyearsthatIhavebeenhere. Inearlyfainted, sir.” “So I understand. Where were you when you begantofeelbad?” “WherewasI,sir? Why,here,nearthedoor.” “That is singular, because you sat down in that chairoveryondernearthecorner. Whydidyoupass theseotherchairs?” “Idon’tknow,sir. Itdidn’tmattertomewhereI sat.”“I really don’t think he knew much about it, Mr.</s>Holmes. Hewaslookingverybad—quiteghastly.” “Youstayedherewhenyourmasterleft?” “Onlyforaminuteorso. ThenIlockedthedoor andwenttomyroom.” “Whomdoyoususpect?” “Oh, I would not venture to say, sir. I don’t be- lievethereisanygentlemaninthisUniversitywhois capableofprofitingbysuchanaction. No,sir,I’llnot believeit.” “Thankyou;thatwilldo,”saidHolmes. “Oh,one more word. You have not mentioned to any of the three gentlemen whom you attend that anything is amiss?” “No,sir;notaword.” “Youhaven’tseenanyofthem?” “No,sir.” “Verygood. Now,Mr.Soames,wewilltakeawalk inthequadrangle,ifyouplease.” Three yellow squares of light shone above us in thegatheringgloom.</s>“Your three birds are all in their nests,” said Holmes, looking up. “Halloa! What’s that? One ofthemseemsrestlessenough.” ItwastheIndian,whosedarksilhouetteappeared suddenlyuponhisblind. Hewaspacingswiftlyup anddownhisroom.</s>“I should like to have a peep at each of them,” saidHolmes. “Isitpossible?” “No difficulty in the world,” Soames answered.</s>“This set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors to go over them.</s>Comealong,andIwillpersonallyconductyou.” “Nonames,please!”saidHolmes,asweknocked atGilchrist’sdoor. Atall,flaxen-haired, slimyoung fellow opened it, and made us welcome when he understoodourerrand. Thereweresomereallycuri- ouspiecesofmediaevaldomesticarchitecturewithin.</s>Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on drawing it on his note-book, broke his pencil,hadtoborrowonefromourhost,andfinally borrowed a knife to sharpen his own. The same cu- rious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian—asilent,little,hook-nosedfellow,whoeyed us askance and was obviously glad when Holmes’s architecturalstudieshadcometoanend. Icouldnot seethatineithercaseHolmeshadcomeupontheclue forwhichhewassearching. Onlyatthethirddidour visitproveabortive. Theouterdoorwouldnotopen to our knock, and nothing more substantial than a torrentofbadlanguagecamefrombehindit. “Idon’t carewhoyouare. Youcangotoblazes!”roaredthe angryvoice. “To-morrow’stheexam,andIwon’tbe drawnbyanyone.” “A rude fellow,” said our guide, flushing with angeraswewithdrewdownthestair. “Ofcourse,he did not realize that it was I who was knocking, but nonethelesshisconductwasveryuncourteous,and, indeed,underthecircumstancesrathersuspicious.” Holmes’sresponsewasacuriousone.</s>“Canyoutellmehisexactheight?”heasked.</s>“Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say.</s>HeistallerthantheIndian,notsotallasGilchrist. I supposefivefootsixwouldbeaboutit.” “Thatisveryimportant,”saidHolmes. “Andnow, Mr.Soames,Iwishyougood-night.” Ourguidecriedaloudinhisastonishmentanddis- may. “Goodgracious,Mr.Holmes,youaresurelynot going to leave me in this abrupt fashion! You don’t seemtorealizetheposition. To-morrowistheexam- ination. I must take some definite action to-night. I cannotallowtheexaminationtobeheldifoneofthe papershasbeentamperedwith. Thesituationmust befaced.” “You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to-morrow morning and chat the matter over.</s>ItispossiblethatImaybeinapositionthentoindi- cate some course of action. Meanwhile you change nothing—nothingatall.” “Verygood,Mr.Holmes.” “Youcanbeperfectlyeasyinyourmind. Weshall certainlyfindsomewayoutofyourdifficulties. Iwill taketheblackclaywithme,alsothepencilcuttings.</s>Good-bye.” Whenwewereoutinthedarknessofthequadran- gleweagainlookedupatthewindows. TheIndian stillpacedhisroom. Theotherswereinvisible.</s>“Well,Watson,whatdoyouthinkofit?”Holmes asked,aswecameoutintothemainstreet. “Quitea littleparlourgame—sortofthree-cardtrick,isitnot? There are your three men. It must be one of them.</s>Youtakeyourchoice. Whichisyours?” “The foul-mouthed fellow at the top. He is the onewiththeworstrecord. AndyetthatIndianwas aslyfellowalso. Whyshouldhebepacinghisroom allthetime?” “Thereisnothinginthat. Manymendoitwhen theyaretryingtolearnanythingbyheart.” “Helookedatusinaqueerway.”“Sowouldyouifaflockofstrangerscameinon you when you were preparing for an examination nextday,andeverymomentwasofvalue. No,Isee nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives—all was satisfactory. Butthatfellowdoespuzzleme.” “Who?” “Why,Bannister,theservant. What’shisgamein thematter?” “He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man.” “So he did me. That’s the puzzling part. Why should a perfectly honest man—well, well, here’s a largestationer’s. Weshallbeginourresearcheshere.” There were only four stationers of any conse- quence in the town, and at each Holmes produced his pencil chips and bid high for a duplicate. All were agreed that one could be ordered, but that it wasnotausualsizeofpencilandthatitwasseldom kept in stock. My friend did not appear to be de- pressedbyhisfailure,butshruggedhisshouldersin half-humorousresignation.</s>“No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has run to nothing. But, indeed, I havelittledoubtthatwecanbuildupasufficientcase withoutit. ByJove! mydearfellow,itisnearlynine, andthelandladybabbledofgreenpeasatseven-thirty.</s>What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get no- ticetoquitandthatIshallshareyourdownfall—not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervoustutor,thecarelessservant,andthethreeen- terprisingstudents.” Holmes made no further allusion to the matter thatday,thoughhesatlostinthoughtforalongtime afterourbelateddinner. Ateightinthemorninghe cameintomyroomjustasIfinishedmytoilet.</s>“Well,Watson,”saidhe,“itistimewewentdown toSt.Luke’s. Canyoudowithoutbreakfast?” “Certainly.” “Soameswillbeinadreadfulfidgetuntilweare abletotellhimsomethingpositive.” “Haveyouanythingpositivetotellhim?” “Ithinkso.” “Youhaveformedaconclusion?” “Yes,mydearWatson;Ihavesolvedthemystery.” “Butwhatfreshevidencecouldyouhavegot?” “Aha! ItisnotfornothingthatIhaveturnedmy- self out of bed at the untimely hour of six. I have putintwohours’hardworkandcoveredatleastfive miles,withsomethingtoshowforit. Lookatthat!” He held out his hand. On the palm were three littlepyramidsofblack,doughyclay.</s>“Why,Holmes,youhadonlytwoyesterday!” “Andonemorethismorning. Itisafairargument thatwhereverNo.3camefromisalsothesourceof Nos.1and2. Eh,Watson? Well,comealongandput friendSoamesoutofhispain.” The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiableagitationwhenwefoundhiminhischambers.</s>Inafewhourstheexaminationwouldcommence,and hewasstillinthedilemmabetweenmakingthefacts public and allowing the culprit to compete for the valuablescholarship. Hecouldhardlystandstill,so great was his mental agitation, and he ran towards Holmeswithtwoeagerhandsoutstretched.</s>“ThankHeaventhatyouhavecome! Ifearedthat you had given it up in despair. What am I to do? Shalltheexaminationproceed?” “Yes;letitproceedbyallmeans.” “Butthisrascal—?” “Heshallnotcompete.” “Youknowhim?” “Ithinkso. Ifthismatterisnottobecomepublic we must give ourselves certain powers, and resolve ourselvesintoasmallprivatecourt-martial. Youthere, ifyouplease,Soames! Watson,youhere! I’lltakethe arm-chairinthemiddle. Ithinkthatwearenowsuf- ficientlyimposingtostriketerrorintoaguiltybreast.</s>Kindlyringthebell!” Bannister entered, and shrunk back in evident surpriseandfearatourjudicialappearance.</s>“You will kindly close the door,” said Holmes.</s>“Now,Bannister,willyoupleasetellusthetruthabout yesterday’sincident?” Themanturnedwhitetotherootsofhishair.</s>“Ihavetoldyoueverything,sir.” “Nothingtoadd?” “Nothingatall,sir.” “Well,then,Imustmakesomesuggestionstoyou.</s>Whenyousatdownonthatchairyesterday,didyou do so in order to conceal some object which would haveshownwhohadbeenintheroom?” Bannister’sfacewasghastly.</s>“No,sir;certainlynot.” “It is only a suggestion,” said Holmes, suavely.</s>“I frankly admit that I am unable to prove it. But it seems probable enough, since the moment that Mr.Soames’sbackwasturnedyoureleasedthemanwho washidinginthatbedroom.” Bannisterlickedhisdrylips.</s>“Therewasnoman,sir.” “Ah,that’sapity,Bannister. Uptonowyoumay havespokenthetruth,butnowIknowthatyouhave lied.” Theman’sfacesetinsullendefiance.</s>“Therewasnoman,sir.” “Come,come,Bannister!” “No,sir;therewasnoone.” “Inthatcaseyoucangiveusnofurtherinforma- tion. Would you please remain in the room? Stand over there near the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I amgoingtoaskyoutohavethegreatkindnesstogo uptotheroomofyoungGilchrist,andtoaskhimto stepdownintoyours.” Aninstantlaterthetutorreturned,bringingwith himthestudent. Hewasafinefigureofaman,tall, lithe, and agile, with a springy step and a pleasant, open face. His troubled blue eyes glanced at each ofus,andfinallyrestedwithanexpressionofblank dismayuponBannisterinthefarthercorner.</s>“Just close the door,” said Holmes. “Now, Mr.</s>Gilchrist, we are all quite alone here, and no one need ever know one word of what passes between us. We can be perfectly frank with each other. We wanttoknow,Mr.Gilchrist,howyou,anhonourable man, ever came to commit such an action as that of yesterday?” Theunfortunateyoungmanstaggeredbackand castalookfullofhorrorandreproachatBannister.</s>“No, no, Mr. Gilchrist, sir; I never said a word—neveroneword!”criedtheservant.</s>“No,butyouhavenow,”saidHolmes. “Now,sir, youmustseethatafterBannister’swordsyourposi- tion is hopeless, and that your only chance lies in a frankconfession.” ForamomentGilchrist,withupraisedhand,tried to control his writhing features. The next he had thrown himself on his knees beside the table and, burying his face in his hands, he had burst into a stormofpassionatesobbing.</s>“Come,come,”saidHolmes,kindly;“itishuman toerr,andatleastnoonecanaccuseyouofbeinga callouscriminal. Perhapsitwouldbeeasierforyou if I were to tell Mr. Soames what occurred, and you cancheckmewhereIamwrong. ShallIdoso? Well, well, don’t trouble to answer. Listen, and see that I doyounoinjustice.</s>“Fromthemoment,Mr.Soames,thatyousaidto me that no one, not even Bannister, could have told that the papers were in your room, the case began to take a definite shape in my mind. The printer onecould,ofcourse,dismiss. Hecouldexaminethe papers in his own office. The Indian I also thought nothing of. If the proofs were in a roll he could not possiblyknowwhattheywere. Ontheotherhand,it seemedanunthinkablecoincidencethatamanshould dare to enter the room, and that by chance on that very day the papers were on the table. I dismissed that. The man who entered knew that the papers werethere. Howdidheknow? “When I approached your room I examined the window. You amused me by supposing that I was contemplating the possibility of someone having in broad daylight, under the eyes of all these opposite rooms, forced himself through it. Such an idea was absurd. Iwasmeasuringhowtallamanwouldneed tobeinordertoseeashepassedwhatpaperswere onthecentraltable. Iamsixfeethigh,andIcoulddo it with an effort. No one less than that would have achance. AlreadyyouseeIhadreasontothinkthat if one of your three students was a man of unusual heighthewasthemostworthwatchingofthethree.</s>“IenteredandItookyouintomyconfidenceasto thesuggestionsofthesidetable. Ofthecentretable I could make nothing, until in your description of Gilchristyoumentionedthathewasalong-distance jumper. Then the whole thing came to me in an in- stant,andIonlyneededcertaincorroborativeproofs, whichIspeedilyobtained.</s>“Whathappenedwasthis. Thisyoungfellowhad employedhisafternoonattheathleticgrounds,where hehadbeenpractisingthejump. Hereturnedcarry- ing his jumping shoes, which are provided, as you are aware, with several sharp spikes. As he passed your window he saw, by means of his great height, theseproofsuponyourtable,andconjecturedwhat they were. No harm would have been done had it notbeenthatashepassedyourdoorheperceivedthe key which had been left by the carelessness of your servant. A sudden impulse came over him to enter and see if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerousexploit,forhecouldalwayspretendthat hehadsimplylookedintoaskaquestion.</s>“Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs,itwasthenthatheyieldedtotemptation. He put his shoes on the table. What was it you put on thatchairnearthewindow?”“Gloves,”saidtheyoungman.</s>Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. “He put his gloves on the chair, and he took the proofs, sheet by sheet, to copy them. He thought the tutor mustreturnbythemaingate,andthathewouldsee him. Asweknow,hecamebackbythesidegate. Sud- denly he heard him at the very door. There was no possibleescape. Heforgothisgloves,buthecaught up his shoes and darted into the bedroom. You ob- serve that the scratch on that table is slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of the bedroom door. Thatinitselfisenoughtoshowusthattheshoe hadbeendrawninthatdirectionandthattheculprit had taken refuge there. The earth round the spike hadbeenleftonthetable,andasecondsamplewas loosened and fell in the bedroom. I may add that I walkedouttotheathleticgroundsthismorning,saw that tenacious black clay is used in the jumping-pit, andcarriedawayaspecimenofit,togetherwithsome ofthefinetanorsawdustwhichisstrewnoveritto prevent the athlete from slipping. Have I told the truth,Mr.Gilchrist?” Thestudenthaddrawnhimselferect.</s>“Yes,sir,itistrue,”saidhe.</s>“Goodheavens,haveyounothingtoadd?”cried Soames.</s>“Yes,sir,Ihave,buttheshockofthisdisgraceful exposurehasbewilderedme. Ihavealetterhere,Mr.</s>Soames,whichIwrotetoyouearlythismorningin the middle of a restless night. It was before I knew thatmysinhadfoundmeout. Hereitis,sir. Youwill see that I have said, ‘I have determined not to go in fortheexamination. Ihavebeenofferedacommission intheRhodesianPolice,andIamgoingouttoSouth Africaatonce.’” “Iamindeedpleasedtohearthatyoudidnotin- tendtoprofitbyyourunfairadvantage,”saidSoames.</s>“Butwhydidyouchangeyourpurpose?” GilchristpointedtoBannister.</s>“Thereisthemanwhosetmeintherightpath,” saidhe.</s>“Comenow,Bannister,”saidHolmes. “Itwillbe cleartoyoufromwhatIhavesaidthatonlyyoucould have let this young man out, since you were left in theroom,andmusthavelockedthedoorwhenyou wentout. Astohisescapingbythatwindow,itwas incredible. Canyounotclearupthelastpointinthis mystery,andtellusthereasonsforyouraction?” “Itwassimpleenough,sir,ifyouonlyhadknown; but with all your cleverness it was impossible that youcouldknow. Timewas,sir,whenIwasbutlerto oldSirJabezGilchrist,thisyounggentleman’sfather.</s>WhenhewasruinedIcametothecollegeasservant, but I never forgot my old employer because he was downintheworld. IwatchedhissonallIcouldfor thesakeoftheolddays. Well,sir,whenIcameinto this room yesterday when the alarm was given, the very first thing I saw was Mr. Gilchrist’s tan gloves a-lyinginthatchair. Iknewthosegloveswell,andI understood their message. If Mr. Soames saw them the game was up. I flopped down into that chair, and nothing would budge me until Mr. Soames he wentforyou. Thenoutcamemypooryoungmaster, whomIhaddandledonmyknee,andconfesseditall to me. Wasn’t it natural, sir, that I should save him, and wasn’t it natural also that I should try to speak tohimashisdeadfatherwouldhavedone,andmake him understand that he could not profit by such a deed? Couldyoublameme,sir?” “No,indeed,”saidHolmes,heartily,springingto hisfeet. “Well,Soames,Ithinkwehaveclearedyour littleproblemup,andourbreakfastawaitsusathome.</s>Come, Watson! As to you, sir, I trust that a bright future awaits you in Rhodesia. For once you have fallenlow. Letusseeinthefuturehowhighyoucan rise.”henIlookatthethreemassivemanuscript volumes which contain our work for the year1894Iconfessthatitisverydifficult W for me, out of such a wealth of material, toselectthecaseswhicharemostinterestinginthem- selvesandatthesametimemostconducivetoadis- play of those peculiar powers for which my friend wasfamous. AsIturnoverthepagesIseemynotes upontherepulsivestoryoftheredleechandtheter- rible death of Crosby the banker. Here also I find anaccountoftheAddletontragedyandthesingular contents of the ancient British barrow. The famous Smith-Mortimer succession case comes also within this period, and so does the tracking and arrest of Huret,theBoulevardassassin—anexploitwhichwon for Holmes an autograph letter of thanks from the FrenchPresidentandtheOrderoftheLegionofHon- our. Eachofthesewouldfurnishanarrative,buton thewholeIamofopinionthatnoneofthemuniteso manysingularpointsofinterestastheepisodeofYox- leyOldPlace,whichincludesnotonlythelamentable deathofyoungWilloughbySmith,butalsothosesub- sequentdevelopmentswhichthrewsocuriousalight uponthecausesofthecrime.</s>Itwasawild,tempestuousnighttowardstheclose ofNovember. HolmesandIsattogetherinsilenceall the evening, he engaged with a powerful lens deci- pheringtheremainsoftheoriginalinscriptionupon apalimpsest,Ideepinarecenttreatiseuponsurgery.</s>Outside the wind howled down Baker Street, while the rain beat fiercely against the windows. It was strangethereintheverydepthsofthetown,withten milesofman’shandiworkoneverysideofus,tofeel the iron grip of Nature, and to be conscious that to the huge elemental forces all London was no more thanthemolehillsthatdotthefields. Iwalkedtothe window and looked out on the deserted street. The occasionallampsgleamedontheexpanseofmuddy roadandshiningpavement. Asinglecabwassplash- ingitswayfromtheOxfordStreetend.</s>“Well, Watson, it’s as well we have not to turn outto-night,”saidHolmes,layingasidehislensand rollingupthepalimpsest. “I’vedoneenoughforone sitting. Itistryingworkfortheeyes. SofarasIcan makeoutitisnothingmoreexcitingthananAbbey’s accountsdatingfromthesecondhalfofthefifteenth century. Halloa! halloa! halloa! What’sthis?” Amidthedroningofthewindtherehadcomethe stamping of a horse’s hoofs and the long grind of a wheelasitraspedagainstthekerb. ThecabwhichI hadseenhadpulledupatourdoor.</s>“What can he want?” I ejaculated, as a man steppedoutofit.</s>“Want! He wants us. And we, my poor Watson, want overcoats and cravats and galoshes, and every aidthatmaneverinventedtofighttheweather. Wait abit,though! There’sthecaboffagain! There’shope yet. He’d have kept it if he had wanted us to come.</s>Rundown,mydearfellow,andopenthedoor,forall virtuousfolkhavebeenlonginbed.” Whenthelightofthehalllampfelluponourmid- nightvisitorIhadnodifficultyinrecognisinghim. It wasyoungStanleyHopkins,apromisingdetective,in whosecareerHolmeshadseveraltimesshownavery practicalinterest.</s>“Ishein?”heasked,eagerly.</s>“Comeup,mydearsir,”saidHolmes’svoicefrom above. “Ihopeyouhavenodesignsuponusonsuch anightasthis.” The detective mounted the stairs, and our lamp gleameduponhisshiningwaterproof. Ihelpedhim outofitwhileHolmesknockedablazeoutofthelogs inthegrate.</s>“Now,mydearHopkins,drawupandwarmyour toes,” said he. “Here’s a cigar, and the doctor has a prescriptioncontaininghotwaterandalemonwhich isgoodmedicineonanightlikethis. Itmustbesome- thingimportantwhichhasbroughtyououtinsucha gale.” “Itisindeed,Mr.Holmes. I’vehadabustlingaf- ternoon,Ipromiseyou. Didyouseeanythingofthe Yoxleycaseinthelatesteditions?” “I’veseennothinglaterthanthefifteenthcentury to-day.” “Well,itwasonlyaparagraph,andallwrongat that, so you have not missed anything. I haven’t let the grass grow under my feet. It’s down in Kent, sevenmilesfromChathamandthreefromtherailway line. Iwaswiredforatthree-fifteen,reachedYoxley Old Place at five, conducted my investigation, was backatCharingCrossbythelasttrain,andstraight toyoubycab.” “Whichmeans,Isuppose,thatyouarenotquite clearaboutyourcase?” “ItmeansthatIcanmakeneitherheadnortailof it. So far as I can see it is just as tangled a business as ever I handled, and yet at first it seemed so sim- ple that one couldn’t go wrong. There’s no motive, Mr.Holmes. That’swhatbothersme—Ican’tputmy hand on a motive. Here’s a man dead—there’s no denying that—but, so far as I can see, no reason on earthwhyanyoneshouldwishhimharm.” Holmeslithiscigarandleanedbackinhischair.“Letushearaboutit,”saidhe.</s>“I’vegotmyfactsprettyclear,”saidStanleyHop- kins. “AllIwantnowistoknowwhattheyallmean.</s>Thestory,sofarasIcanmakeitout,islikethis. Some yearsagothiscountryhouse,YoxleyOldPlace,was takenbyanelderlyman,whogavethenameofPro- fessorCoram. Hewasaninvalid,keepinghisbedhalf thetime,andtheotherhalfhobblingroundthehouse with a stick or being pushed about the grounds by thegardenerinabath-chair. Hewaswelllikedbythe fewneighbourswhocalleduponhim,andhehasthe reputationdownthereofbeingaverylearnedman.</s>His household used to consist of an elderly house- keeper, Mrs. Marker, and of a maid, Susan Tarlton.</s>Thesehavebothbeenwithhimsincehisarrival,and they seem to be women of excellent character. The Professor is writing a learned book, and he found it necessary about a year ago to engage a secretary.</s>The first two that he tried were not successes; but the third, Mr. Willoughby Smith, a very young man straightfromtheUniversity,seemstohavebeenjust what his employer wanted. His work consisted in writing all the morning to the Professor’s dictation, andheusuallyspenttheeveninginhuntinguprefer- encesandpassageswhichboreuponthenextday’s work. ThisWilloughbySmithhasnothingagainsthim eitherasaboyatUppinghamorasayoungmanat Cambridge. Ihaveseenhistestimonials,andfromthe firsthewasadecent,quiet,hardworkingfellow,with no weak spot in him at all. And yet this is the lad whohasmethisdeaththismorningintheProfessor’s study under circumstances which can point only to murder.” Thewindhowledandscreamedatthewindows.</s>HolmesandIdrewclosertothefirewhiletheyoung inspector slowly and point by point developed his singularnarrative.</s>“If you were to search all England,” said he, “I don’tsupposeyoucouldfindahouseholdmoreself- contained or free from outside influences. Whole weeks would pass and not one of them go past the garden gate. The Professor was buried in his work andexistedfornothingelse. YoungSmithknewno- bodyintheneighbourhood,andlivedverymuchas his employer did. The two women had nothing to take them from the house. Mortimer the gardener, whowheelsthebath-chair,isanArmypensioner—an oldCrimeanmanofexcellentcharacter. Hedoesnot liveinthehouse,butinathree-roomedcottageatthe other end of the garden. Those are the only people thatyouwouldfindwithinthegroundsofYoxleyOld Place. At the same time, the gate of the garden is a hundred yards from the main London to Chatham road. It opens with a latch, and there is nothing to preventanyonefromwalkingin.</s>“NowIwillgiveyoutheevidenceofSusanTarlton, whoistheonlypersonwhocansayanythingpositive about the matter. It was in the forenoon, between elevenandtwelve. Shewasengagedatthemoment in hanging some curtains in the upstairs front bed- room. ProfessorCoramwasstillinbed,forwhenthe weather is bad he seldom rises before midday. The housekeeperwasbusiedwithsomeworkintheback ofthehouse. WilloughbySmithhadbeeninhisbed- room,whichheusesasasitting-room;butthemaid heard him at that moment pass along the passage anddescendtothestudyimmediatelybelowher. She did not see him, but she says that she could not be mistakeninhisquick,firmtread. Shedidnothearthe studydoorclose,butaminuteorsolatertherewasa dreadfulcryintheroombelow. Itwasawild,hoarse scream,sostrangeandunnaturalthatitmighthave come either from a man or a woman. At the same instanttherewasaheavythud,whichshooktheold house,andthenallwassilence. Themaidstoodpetri- fiedforamoment,andthen,recoveringhercourage, she ran downstairs. The study door was shut, and she opened it. Inside young Mr. Willoughby Smith wasstretcheduponthefloor. Atfirstshecouldseeno injury,butasshetriedtoraisehimshesawthatblood was pouring from the underside of his neck. It was piercedbyaverysmallbutverydeepwound,which haddividedthecarotidartery. Theinstrumentwith whichtheinjuryhadbeeninflictedlayuponthecar- petbesidehim. Itwasoneofthosesmallsealing-wax knives to be found on old-fashioned writing-tables, withanivoryhandleandastiffblade. Itwaspartof thefittingsoftheProfessor’sowndesk.</s>“AtfirstthemaidthoughtthatyoungSmithwas already dead, but on pouring some water from the carafe over his forehead he opened his eyes for an instant. ‘TheProfessor,’hemurmured—‘itwasshe.’ The maid is prepared to swear that those were the exact words. He tried desperately to say something else, and he held his right hand up in the air. Then hefellbackdead.</s>“In the meantime the housekeeper had also ar- riveduponthescene,butshewasjusttoolatetocatch the young man’s dying words. Leaving Susan with thebody,shehurriedtotheProfessor’sroom. Hewas sittingupinbedhorriblyagitated,forhehadheard enoughtoconvincehimthatsomethingterriblehad occurred. Mrs.Markerispreparedtoswearthatthe Professor was still in his night-clothes, and, indeed,it was impossible for him to dress without the help of Mortimer, whose orders were to come at twelve o’clock. TheProfessordeclaresthatheheardthedis- tantcry,butthatheknowsnothingmore. Hecangive no explanation of the young man’s last words, ‘The Professor—it was she,’ but imagines that they were theoutcomeofdelirium. HebelievesthatWilloughby Smith had not an enemy in the world, and can give noreasonforthecrime. Hisfirstactionwastosend Mortimer the gardener for the local police. A little later the chief constable sent for me. Nothing was movedbeforeIgotthere,andstrictordersweregiven that no one should walk upon the paths leading to thehouse. Itwasasplendidchanceofputtingyour theories into practice, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. There wasreallynothingwanting.” “ExceptMr.SherlockHolmes,”saidmycompan- ion,withasomewhatbittersmile. “Well,letushear aboutit. Whatsortofjobdidyoumakeofit?” “I must ask you first, Mr. Holmes, to glance at thisroughplan,whichwillgiveyouageneralideaof thepositionoftheProfessor’sstudyandthevarious points of the case. It will help you in following my investigation.” Heunfoldedtheroughchart,whichIhererepro- duce, and he laid it across Holmes’s knee. I rose, and, standing behind Holmes, I studied it over his shoulder.</s>“Itisveryrough,ofcourse,anditonlydealswith thepointswhichseemtometobeessential. Allthe rest you will see later for yourself. Now, first of all, presumingthattheassassinenteredthehouse,how did he or she come in? Undoubtedly by the garden path and the back door, from which there is direct accesstothestudy. Anyotherwaywouldhavebeen exceedinglycomplicated. Theescapemusthavealso beenmadealongthatline,forofthetwootherexits fromtheroomonewasblockedbySusanassheran downstairsandtheotherleadsstraighttotheProfes- sor’s bedroom. I therefore directed my attention at once to the garden path, which was saturated with recentrainandwouldcertainlyshowanyfootmarks.</s>“My examination showed me that I was dealing with a cautious and expert criminal. No footmarks were to be found on the path. There could be no question, however, that someone had passed along thegrassborderwhichlinesthepath,andthathehad donesoinordertoavoidleavingatrack. Icouldnot find anything in the nature of a distinct impression, but the grass was trodden down and someone had undoubtedlypassed. Itcouldonlyhavebeenthemur- derer,sinceneitherthegardenernoranyoneelsehad beentherethatmorningandtherainhadonlybegun duringthenight.” “One moment,” said Holmes. “Where does this pathleadto?” “Totheroad.” “Howlongisit?” “Ahundredyardsorso.” “Atthepointwherethepathpassesthroughthe gateyoucouldsurelypickupthetracks?” “Unfortunately,thepathwastiledatthatpoint.” “Well,ontheroaditself?” “No;itwasalltroddenintomire.” “Tut-tut! Well, then, these tracks upon the grass, weretheycomingorgoing?” “It was impossible to say. There was never any outline.” “Alargefootorasmall?” “Youcouldnotdistinguish.” Holmesgaveanejaculationofimpatience.</s>“Ithasbeenpouringrainandblowingahurricane ever since,” said he. “It will be harder to read now than that palimpsest. Well, well, it can’t be helped.</s>Whatdidyoudo,Hopkins,afteryouhadmadecer- tainthatyouhadmadecertainofnothing?” “IthinkImadecertainofagooddeal,Mr.Holmes.</s>Iknewthatsomeonehadenteredthehousecautiously fromwithout. Inextexaminedthecorridor. Itislined withcocoanutmattingandhadtakennoimpression of any kind. This brought me into the study itself.</s>Itisascantily-furnishedroom. Themainarticleisa largewriting-tablewithafixedbureau. Thisbureau consistsofadoublecolumnofdrawerswithacentral small cupboard between them. The drawers were open, the cupboard locked. The drawers, it seems, werealwaysopen,andnothingofvaluewaskeptin them. Thereweresomepapersofimportanceinthe cupboard,buttherewerenosignsthatthishadbeentampered with, and the Professor assures me that nothingwasmissing. Itiscertainthatnorobberyhas beencommitted.</s>“I come now to the body of the young man. It was found near the bureau, and just to the left of it, as marked upon that chart. The stab was on the rightsideoftheneckandfrombehindforwards,so that it is almost impossible that it could have been self-inflicted.” “Unlesshefellupontheknife,”saidHolmes.</s>“Exactly. Theideacrossedmymind. Butwefound theknifesomefeetawayfromthebody,sothatseems impossible. Then,ofcourse,therearetheman’sown dyingwords. And,finally,therewasthisveryimpor- tant piece of evidence which was found clasped in thedeadman’srighthand.” From his pocket Stanley Hopkins drew a small paperpacket. Heunfoldeditanddisclosedagolden pince-nez, with two broken ends of black silk cord danglingfromtheendofit. “WilloughbySmithhad excellentsight,”headded. “Therecanbenoquestion thatthiswassnatchedfromthefaceorthepersonof theassassin.” Sherlock Holmes took the glasses into his hand andexaminedthemwiththeutmostattentionandin- terest. Heheldthemonhisnose,endeavouredtoread throughthem,wenttothewindowandstaredupthe street with them, looked at them most minutely in thefulllightofthelamp,andfinally,withachuckle, seatedhimselfatthetableandwroteafewlinesupon a sheet of paper, which he tossed across to Stanley Hopkins.</s>“That’sthebestIcandoforyou,”saidhe. “Itmay provetobeofsomeuse.” The astonished detective read the note aloud. It ranasfollows: “Wanted,awomanofgoodaddress,at- tired like a lady. She has a remarkably thick nose, with eyes which are set close upon either side of it. She has a puck- eredforehead,apeeringexpression,and probably rounded shoulders. There are indications that she has had recourse to an optician at least twice during the last fewmonths. Asherglassesareofremark- ablestrengthandasopticiansarenotvery numerous,thereshouldbenodifficultyin tracingher.” Holmes smiled at the astonishment of Hopkins, whichmusthavebeenreflecteduponmyfeatures.</s>“Surelymydeductionsaresimplicityitself,”said he. “Itwouldbedifficulttonameanyarticleswhich affordafinerfieldforinferencethanapairofglasses, especiallysoremarkableapairasthese. Thattheybe- longtoawomanIinferfromtheirdelicacy,andalso, ofcourse,fromthelastwordsofthedyingman. As toherbeingapersonofrefinementandwelldressed, they are, as you perceive, handsomely mounted in solid gold, and it is inconceivable that anyone who woresuchglassescouldbeslatternlyinotherrespects.</s>Youwillfindthattheclipsaretoowideforyournose, showing that the lady’s nose was very broad at the base. This sort of nose is usually a short and coarse one, but there are a sufficient number of exceptions topreventmefrombeingdogmaticorfrominsisting uponthispointinmydescription. Myownfaceisa narrowone,andyetIfindthatIcannotgetmyeyes into the centre, or near the centre, of these glasses.</s>Thereforethelady’seyesaresetveryneartothesides ofthenose. Youwillperceive,Watson,thattheglasses are concave and of unusual strength. A lady whose visionhasbeensoextremelycontractedallherlifeis suretohavethephysicalcharacteristicsofsuchvision, which are seen in the forehead, the eyelids, and the shoulders.” “Yes,”Isaid,“Icanfolloweachofyourarguments.</s>I confess, however, that I am unable to understand howyouarriveatthedoublevisittotheoptician.” Holmestooktheglassesinhishand.</s>“You will perceive,” he said, “that the clips are lined with tiny bands of cork to soften the pressure uponthenose. Oneoftheseisdiscolouredandworn tosomeslightextent,buttheotherisnew. Evidently onehasfallenoffandbeenreplaced. Ishouldjudge thattheolderofthemhasnotbeentheremorethan a few months. They exactly correspond, so I gather thattheladywentbacktothesameestablishmentfor thesecond.” “ByGeorge,it’smarvellous!”criedHopkins,inan ecstasyofadmiration. “TothinkthatIhadallthatev- idenceinmyhandandneverknewit! Ihadintended, however,togotheroundoftheLondonopticians.” “Ofcourseyouwould. Meanwhile,haveyouany- thingmoretotellusaboutthecase?” “Nothing,Mr.Holmes. Ithinkthatyouknowas much as I do now—probably more. We have had inquiriesmadeastoanystrangerseenonthecountry roadsorattherailwaystation. Wehaveheardofnone.What beats me is the utter want of all object in the crime. Notaghostofamotivecananyonesuggest.” “Ah! thereIamnotinapositiontohelpyou. But Isupposeyouwantustocomeoutto-morrow?” “Ifitisnotaskingtoomuch,Mr.Holmes. There’s atrainfromCharingCrosstoChathamatsixinthe morning, and we should be at Yoxley Old Place be- tweeneightandnine.” “Then we shall take it. Your case has certainly some features of great interest, and I shall be de- lighted to look into it. Well, it’s nearly one, and we had best get a few hours’ sleep. I dare say you can manage all right on the sofa in front of the fire. I’ll light my spirit-lamp and give you a cup of coffee beforewestart.” Thegalehadblownitselfoutnextday,butitwasa bittermorningwhenwestarteduponourjourney. We sawthecoldwintersunriseoverthedrearymarshes oftheThamesandthelong,sullenreachesoftheriver, which I shall ever associate with our pursuit of the Andaman Islander in the earlier days of our career.</s>Afteralongandwearyjourneywealightedatasmall stationsomemilesfromChatham. Whileahorsewas being put into a trap at the local inn we snatched a hurriedbreakfast,andsowewereallreadyforbusi- nesswhenweatlastarrivedatYoxleyOldPlace. A constablemetusatthegardengate.</s>“Well,Wilson,anynews?” “No,sir,nothing.” “Noreportsofanystrangerseen?” “No,sir. Downatthestationtheyarecertainthat nostrangereithercameorwentyesterday.” “Have you had inquiries made at inns and lodg- ings?” “Yes, sir; there is no one that we cannot account for.” “Well, it’s only a reasonable walk to Chatham.</s>Anyonemightstaythere,ortakeatrainwithoutbe- ing observed. This is the garden path of which I spoke,Mr.Holmes. I’llpledgemywordtherewasno markonityesterday.” “Onwhichsidewerethemarksonthegrass?” “This side, sir. This narrow margin of grass be- tween the path and the flower-bed. I can’t see the tracesnow,buttheywerecleartomethen.” “Yes, yes; someone has passed along,” said Holmes, stooping over the grass border. “Our lady must have picked her steps carefully, must she not, sinceontheonesideshewouldleaveatrackonthe path,andontheotheranevencleareroneonthesoft bed?” “Yes,sir,shemusthavebeenacoolhand.” IsawanintentlookpassoverHolmes’sface.</s>“Yousaythatshemusthavecomebackthisway?” “Yes,sir;thereisnoother.” “Onthisstripofgrass?” “Certainly,Mr.Holmes.” “Hum! It was a very remarkable perfor- mance—very remarkable. Well, I think we have ex- haustedthepath. Letusgofarther. Thisgardendoor isusuallykeptopen,Isuppose? Thenthisvisitorhad nothingtodobuttowalkin. Theideaofmurderwas notinhermind,orshewouldhaveprovidedherself withsomesortofweapon,insteadofhavingtopick this knife off the writing-table. She advanced along this corridor, leaving no traces upon the cocoanut matting. Then she found herself in this study. How longwasshethere? Wehavenomeansofjudging.” “Notmorethanafewminutes,sir. Iforgottotell youthatMrs.Marker,thehousekeeper,hadbeenin there tidying not very long before—about a quarter ofanhour,shesays.” “Well, that gives us a limit. Our lady enters this room and what does she do? She goes over to the writing-table. What for? Not for anything in the drawers. Iftherehadbeenanythingworthhertaking it would surely have been locked up. No; it was for something in that wooden bureau. Halloa! what is that scratch upon the face of it? Just hold a match, Watson. Whydidyounottellmeofthis,Hopkins?” The mark which he was examining began upon thebrassworkontheright-handsideofthekeyhole, and extended for about four inches, where it had scratchedthevarnishfromthesurface.</s>“Inoticedit,Mr.Holmes. Butyou’llalwaysfind scratchesroundakeyhole.” “This is recent, quite recent. See how the brass shines where it is cut. An old scratch would be the same colour as the surface. Look at it through my lens. There’sthevarnish,too,likeearthoneachside ofafurrow. IsMrs.Markerthere?” Asad-faced,elderlywomancameintotheroom.</s>“Didyoudustthisbureauyesterdaymorning?” “Yes,sir.” “Didyounoticethisscratch?” “No,sir,Ididnot.” “I am sure you did not, for a duster would have sweptawaytheseshredsofvarnish. Whohasthekey ofthisbureau?”“TheProfessorkeepsitonhiswatch-chain.” “Isitasimplekey?” “No,sir;itisaChubb’skey.” “Verygood. Mrs.Marker,youcango. Nowweare making a little progress. Our lady enters the room, advancestothebureau,andeitheropensitortriesto doso. WhilesheisthusengagedyoungWilloughby Smithenterstheroom. Inherhurrytowithdrawthe keyshemakesthisscratchuponthedoor. Heseizes her,andshe,snatchingupthenearestobject,which happens to be this knife, strikes at him in order to makehimletgohishold. Theblowisafatalone. He falls and she escapes, either with or without the ob- jectforwhichshehascome. IsSusanthemaidthere? Couldanyonehavegotawaythroughthatdoorafter thetimethatyouheardthecry,Susan?” “No sir; it is impossible. Before I got down the stairI’dhaveseenanyoneinthepassage. Besides,the doorneveropened,forIwouldhaveheardit.” “That settles this exit. Then no doubt the lady went out the way she came. I understand that this other passage leads only to the Professor’s room.</s>Thereisnoexitthatway?” “No,sir.” “Weshallgodownitandmaketheacquaintance oftheProfessor. Halloa,Hopkins! thisisveryimpor- tant,veryimportantindeed. TheProfessor’scorridor isalsolinedwithcocoanutmatting.” “Well,sir,whatofthat?” “Don’tyouseeanybearinguponthecase? Well, well, I don’t insist upon it. No doubt I am wrong.</s>Andyetitseemstometobesuggestive. Comewith meandintroduceme.” We passed down the passage, which was of the samelengthasthatwhichledtothegarden. Atthe endwasashortflightofstepsendinginadoor. Our guideknocked,andthenusheredusintotheProfes- sor’sbedroom.</s>Itwasaverylargechamber,linedwithinnumer- ablevolumes,whichhadoverflowedfromtheshelves and lay in piles in the corners, or were stacked all round at the base of the cases. The bed was in the centre of the room, and in it, propped up with pil- lows,wastheownerofthehouse. Ihaveseldomseen a more remarkable-looking person. It was a gaunt, aquilinefacewhichwasturnedtowardsus,withpierc- ing dark eyes, which lurked in deep hollows under overhungandtuftedbrows. Hishairandbeardwere white,savethatthelatterwascuriouslystainedwith yellow around his mouth. A cigarette glowed amid thetangleofwhitehair,andtheairoftheroomwas fetid with stale tobacco-smoke. As he held out his hand to Holmes I perceived that it also was stained yellowwithnicotine.</s>“Asmoker,Mr.Holmes?”saidhe,speakingwell- chosen English with a curious little mincing accent.</s>“Praytakeacigarette. Andyou,sir? Icanrecommend them,forIhavethemespeciallypreparedbyIonides of Alexandria. He sends me a thousand at a time, and I grieve to say that I have to arrange for a fresh supplyeveryfortnight. Bad,sir,verybad,butanold manhasfewpleasures. Tobaccoandmywork—that isallthatislefttome.” Holmeshadlitacigarette,andwasshootinglittle dartingglancesallovertheroom.</s>“Tobacco and my work, but now only tobacco,” the old man exclaimed. “Alas! what a fatal inter- ruption! Who could have foreseen such a terrible catastrophe? So estimable a young man! I assure you that after a few months’ training he was an ad- mirable assistant. What do you think of the matter, Mr.Holmes?” “Ihavenotyetmadeupmymind.” “Ishallindeedbeindebtedtoyouifyoucanthrow alightwhereallissodarktous. Toapoorbookworm and invalid like myself such a blow is paralyzing. I seemtohavelostthefacultyofthought. Butyouare a man of action—you are a man of affairs. It is part oftheeverydayroutineofyourlife. Youcanpreserve your balance in every emergency. We are fortunate indeedinhavingyouatourside.” Holmeswaspacingupanddownonesideofthe roomwhilsttheoldProfessorwastalking. Iobserved thathewassmokingwithextraordinaryrapidity. It was evident that he shared our host’s liking for the freshAlexandriancigarettes.</s>“Yes,sir,itisacrushingblow,”saidtheoldman.</s>“Thatis mymagnumopus—thepile ofpapersonthe sidetableyonder. Itismyanalysisofthedocuments foundintheCopticmonasteriesofSyriaandEgypt, a work which will cut deep at the very foundations of revealed religion. With my enfeebled health I do notknowwhetherIshalleverbeabletocompleteit nowthatmyassistanthasbeentakenfromme. Dear me,Mr.Holmes;why,youareevenaquickersmoker thanIammyself.” Holmessmiled.</s>“I am a connoisseur,” said he, taking another cigarette from the box—his fourth—and lighting it from the stub of that which he had finished. “I will nottroubleyouwithanylengthycross-examination, ProfessorCoram,sinceIgatherthatyouwereinbedat the time of the crime and could know nothing aboutit. Iwouldonlyaskthis. Whatdoyouimagine that this poor fellow meant by his last words: ‘The Professor—itwasshe’?” TheProfessorshookhishead.</s>“Susanisacountrygirl,”saidhe,“andyouknow the incredible stupidity of that class. I fancy that thepoorfellowmurmuredsomeincoherentdelirious words,andthatshetwistedthemintothismeaning- lessmessage.” “I see. You have no explanation yourself of the tragedy?” “Possiblyanaccident;possibly—Ionlybreatheit among ourselves—a suicide. Young men have their hidden troubles—some affair of the heart, perhaps, which we have never known. It is a more probable suppositionthanmurder.” “Buttheeye-glasses?” “Ah! I am only a student—a man of dreams. I cannot explain the practical things of life. But still, we are aware, my friend, that love-gages may take strange shapes. By all means take another cigarette.</s>It is a pleasure to see anyone appreciate them so. A fan,aglove,glasses—whoknowswhatarticlemaybe carriedasatokenortreasuredwhenamanputsan end to his life? This gentleman speaks of footsteps in the grass; but, after all, it is easy to be mistaken on such a point. As to the knife, it might well be thrownfarfromtheunfortunatemanashefell. Itis possible that I speak as a child, but to me it seems that Willoughby Smith has met his fate by his own hand.” Holmesseemedstruckbythetheorythusputfor- ward, and he continued to walk up and down for some time, lostin thoughtand consumingcigarette aftercigarette.</s>“Tellme,ProfessorCoram,”hesaid,atlast,“what isinthatcupboardinthebureau?” “Nothingthatwouldhelpathief. Familypapers, letters from my poor wife, diplomas of Universities whichhavedonemehonour. Hereisthekey. Youcan lookforyourself.” Holmespickedupthekeyandlookedatitforan instant;thenhehandeditback.</s>“No;Ihardlythinkthatitwouldhelpme,”saidhe.</s>“I should prefer to go quietly down to your garden andturnthewholematteroverinmyhead. Thereis somethingtobesaidforthetheoryofsuicidewhich youhaveputforward. Wemustapologizeforhaving intrudeduponyou,ProfessorCoram,andIpromise that we won’t disturb you until after lunch. At two o’clockwewillcomeagainandreporttoyouanything whichmayhavehappenedintheinterval.” Holmeswascuriouslydistrait,andwewalkedup anddownthegardenpathforsometimeinsilence.</s>“Haveyouaclue?”Iasked,atlast.</s>“ItdependsuponthosecigarettesthatIsmoked,” saidhe. “ItispossiblethatIamutterlymistaken. The cigaretteswillshowme.” “MydearHolmes,”Iexclaimed,“howonearth—” “Well, well, you may see for yourself. If not, there’snoharmdone. Ofcourse,wealwayshavethe opticiancluetofallbackupon,butItakeashortcut whenIcangetit. Ah,hereisthegoodMrs.Marker! Letusenjoyfiveminutesofinstructiveconversation withher.” I may have remarked before that Holmes had, when he liked, a peculiarly ingratiating way with women,andthatheveryreadilyestablishedtermsof confidencewiththem. Inhalfthetimewhichhehad namedhehadcapturedthehousekeeper’sgoodwill, andwaschattingwithherasifhehadknownherfor years.</s>“Yes, Mr. Holmes, it is as you say, sir. He does smokesomethingterrible. Alldayandsometimesall night,sir. I’veseenthatroomofamorning—well,sir, you’dhavethoughtitwasaLondonfog. Pooryoung Mr. Smith, he was a smoker also, but not as bad as theProfessor. Hishealth—well,Idon’tknowthatit’s betternorworseforthesmoking.” “Ah!”saidHolmes,“butitkillstheappetite.” “Well,Idon’tknowaboutthat,sir.” “IsupposetheProfessoreatshardlyanything?” “Well,heisvariable. I’llsaythatforhim.” “I’llwagerhetooknobreakfastthismorning,and won’tfacehislunchafterallthecigarettesIsawhim consume.” “Well, you’re out there, sir, as it happens, for he atearemarkablebigbreakfastthismorning. Idon’t knowwhenI’veknownhimmakeabetterone,and he’sorderedagooddishofcutletsforhislunch. I’m surprisedmyself,forsinceIcameintothatroomyes- terday and saw young Mr. Smith lying there on the floorIcouldn’tbeartolookatfood. Well,ittakesall sortstomakeaworld,andtheProfessorhasn’tletit takehisappetiteaway.” Weloiteredthemorningawayinthegarden. Stan- leyHopkinshadgonedowntothevillagetolookinto some rumours of a strange woman who had been seenbysomechildrenontheChathamRoadthepre- viousmorning. Astomyfriend,allhisusualenergyseemedtohavedesertedhim. Ihadneverknownhim handle a case in such a half-hearted fashion. Even thenewsbroughtbackbyHopkinsthathehadfound the children and that they had undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding with Holmes’s de- scription,andwearingeitherspectaclesoreye-glasses, failed to rouse any sign of keen interest. He was moreattentivewhenSusan, whowaiteduponusat lunch,volunteeredtheinformationthatshebelieved Mr.Smithhadbeenoutforawalkyesterdaymorning, andthathehadonlyreturnedhalfanhourbeforethe tragedyoccurred. Icouldnotmyselfseethebearing of this incident, but I clearly perceived that Holmes wasweavingitintothegeneralschemewhichhehad formed in his brain. Suddenly he sprang from his chairandglancedathiswatch. “Twoo’clock,gentle- men,”saidhe. “Wemustgoupandhaveitoutwith ourfriendtheProfessor.” Theoldmanhadjustfinishedhislunch,andcer- tainly his empty dish bore evidence to the good ap- petitewithwhichhishousekeeperhadcreditedhim.</s>Hewas,indeed,aweirdfigureasheturnedhiswhite mane and his glowing eyes towards us. The eter- nalcigarettesmoulderedinhismouth. Hehadbeen dressedandwasseatedinanarm-chairbythefire.</s>“Well,Mr.Holmes,haveyousolvedthismystery yet?” He shoved the large tin of cigarettes which stoodonatablebesidehimtowardsmycompanion.</s>Holmesstretchedouthishandatthesamemoment, andbetweenthemtheytippedtheboxovertheedge.</s>Foraminuteortwowewereallonourkneesretriev- ingstraycigarettesfromimpossibleplaces. Whenwe roseagainIobservedthatHolmes’seyeswereshining and his cheeks tinged with colour. Only at a crisis haveIseenthosebattle-signalsflying.</s>“Yes,”saidhe,“Ihavesolvedit.” StanleyHopkinsandIstaredinamazement. Some- thinglikeasneerquiveredoverthegauntfeaturesof theoldProfessor.</s>“Indeed! Inthegarden?” “No,here.” “Here! When?” “Thisinstant.” “Youaresurelyjoking,Mr.SherlockHolmes. You compelmetotellyouthatthisistooseriousamatter tobetreatedinsuchafashion.” “Ihaveforgedandtestedeverylinkofmychain, ProfessorCoram,andIamsurethatitissound. What yourmotivesareorwhatexactpartyouplayinthis strange business I am not yet able to say. In a few minutesIshallprobablyhearitfromyourownlips.</s>Meanwhile I will reconstruct what is past for your benefit,sothatyoumayknowtheinformationwhich Istillrequire.</s>“Aladyyesterdayenteredyourstudy. Shecame withtheintentionofpossessingherselfofcertaindoc- uments which were in your bureau. She had a key ofherown. Ihavehadanopportunityofexamining yours, and I do not find that slight discolouration whichthescratchmadeuponthevarnishwouldhave produced. Youwerenotanaccessory,therefore,and shecame,sofarasIcanreadtheevidence, without yourknowledgetorobyou.” TheProfessorblewacloudfromhislips. “Thisis mostinterestingandinstructive,”saidhe. “Haveyou nomoretoadd? Surely,havingtracedthisladysofar, youcanalsosaywhathasbecomeofher.” “I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she wasseizedbyyoursecretary,andstabbedhiminor- dertoescape. ThiscatastropheIaminclinedtoregard asanunhappyaccident,forIamconvincedthatthe ladyhadnointentionofinflictingsogrievousanin- jury. Anassassindoesnotcomeunarmed. Horrified bywhatshehaddonesherushedwildlyawayfrom the scene of the tragedy. Unfortunately for her she hadlostherglassesinthescuffle,andasshewasex- tremelyshort-sightedshewasreallyhelplesswithout them. Sherandownacorridor,whichsheimagined tobethatbywhichshehadcome—bothwerelined withcocoanutmatting—anditwasonlywhenitwas too late that she understood that she had taken the wrongpassageandthatherretreatwascutoffbehind her. Whatwasshetodo? Shecouldnotgoback. She couldnotremainwhereshewas. Shemustgoon. She went on. She mounted a stair, pushed open a door, andfoundherselfinyourroom.” The old man sat with his mouth open staring wildlyatHolmes. Amazementandfearwerestamped uponhisexpressivefeatures. Now,withaneffort,he shruggedhisshouldersandburstintoinsincerelaugh- ter.</s>“Allveryfine,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe. “Butthereis onelittleflawinyoursplendidtheory. Iwasmyself inmyroom,andIneverleftitduringtheday.” “Iamawareofthat,ProfessorCoram.” “AndyoumeantosaythatIcouldlieuponthat bedandnotbeawarethatawomanhadenteredmy room?” “Ineversaidso. Youwereawareofit. Youspoke with her. You recognised her. You aided her to es- cape.”AgaintheProfessorburstintohigh-keyedlaugh- ter. Hehadrisentohisfeetandhiseyesglowedlike embers.</s>“Youaremad!”hecried. “Youaretalkinginsanely.</s>Ihelpedhertoescape? Whereisshenow?” “Sheisthere,”saidHolmes,andhepointedtoa highbookcaseinthecorneroftheroom.</s>I saw the old man throw up his arms, a terrible convulsionpassedoverhisgrimface,andhefellback inhischair. Atthesameinstantthebookcaseatwhich Holmes pointed swung round upon a hinge, and a woman rushed out into the room. “You are right!” shecried,inastrangeforeignvoice. “Youareright! I amhere.” She was brown with the dust and draped with the cobwebs which had come from the walls of her hiding-place. Herface,too,wasstreakedwithgrime, andatthebestshecouldneverhavebeenhandsome, for she had the exact physical characteristics which Holmes had divined, with, in addition, a long and obstinatechin. Whatwithhernaturalblindness,and whatwiththechangefromdarktolight,shestoodas onedazed,blinkingabouthertoseewhereandwho wewere. Andyet,inspiteofallthesedisadvantages, therewasacertainnobilityinthewoman’sbearing,a gallantryinthedefiantchinandintheupraisedhead, which compelled something of respect and admira- tion. StanleyHopkinshadlaidhishanduponherarm andclaimedherashisprisoner,butshewavedhim aside gently, and yet with an overmastering dignity whichcompelledobedience. Theoldmanlaybackin hischair,withatwitchingface,andstaredatherwith broodingeyes.</s>“Yes, sir, I am your prisoner,” she said. “From where I stood I could hear everything, and I know that you have learned the truth. I confess it all. It was I who killed the young man. But you are right, youwhosayitwasanaccident. Ididnotevenknow thatitwasaknifewhichIheldinmyhand,forinmy despairIsnatchedanythingfromthetableandstruck at him to make him let me go. It is the truth that I tell.” “Madam,” said Holmes, “I am sure that it is the truth. Ifearthatyouarefarfromwell.” Shehadturnedadreadfulcolour,themoreghastly underthedarkdust-streaksuponherface. Sheseated herselfonthesideofthebed;thensheresumed.</s>“I have only a little time here,” she said, “but I would have you to know the whole truth. I am this man’swife. HeisnotanEnglishman. HeisaRussian.</s>HisnameIwillnottell.” Forthefirsttimetheoldmanstirred. “Godbless you,Anna!”hecried. “Godblessyou!” Shecastalookofthedeepestdisdaininhisdirec- tion. “Whyshouldyouclingsohardtothatwretched lifeofyours,Sergius?”saidshe. “Ithasdoneharmto manyandgoodtonone—noteventoyourself. How- ever, it is not for me to cause the frail thread to be snapped before God’s time. I have enough already upon my soul since I crossed the threshold of this cursedhouse. ButImustspeakorIshallbetoolate.</s>“Ihavesaid,gentlemen,thatIamthisman’swife.</s>He was fifty and I a foolish girl of twenty when we married. It was in a city of Russia, a University—I willnotnametheplace.” “God bless you, Anna!” murmured the old man again.</s>“We were reformers—revolutionists—Nihilists, you understand. He and I and many more. Then there came a time of trouble, a police officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was wanted, andinordertosavehisownlifeandtoearnagreat reward my husband betrayed his own wife and his companions. Yes,wewereallarresteduponhiscon- fession. Someofusfoundourwaytothegallowsand sometoSiberia. Iwasamongtheselast,butmyterm wasnotforlife. MyhusbandcametoEnglandwith hisill-gottengains,andhaslivedinquieteversince, knowingwellthatiftheBrotherhoodknewwherehe was not a week would pass before justice would be done.” The old man reached out a trembling hand and helped himself to a cigarette. “I am in your hands, Anna,”saidhe. “Youwerealwaysgoodtome.” “Ihavenotyettoldyoutheheightofhisvillainy,” said she. “Among our comrades of the Order there was one who was the friend of my heart. He was noble, unselfish, loving—all that my husband was not. Hehatedviolence. Wewereallguilty—ifthatis guilt—buthewasnot. Hewroteforeverdissuading usfromsuchacourse. Theseletterswouldhavesaved him. So would my diary, in which from day to day Ihadenteredbothmyfeelingstowardshimandthe viewwhicheachofushadtaken. Myhusbandfound and kept both diary and letters. He hid them, and hetriedhardtoswearawaytheyoungman’slife. In thishefailed,butAlexiswassentaconvicttoSiberia, wherenow,atthismoment,heworksinasaltmine.</s>Think of that, you villain, you villain; now, now, at thisverymoment,Alexis,amanwhosenameyouare notworthytospeak,worksandliveslikeaslave,and yetIhaveyourlifeinmyhandsandIletyougo.”“Youwerealwaysanoblewoman,Anna,”saidthe oldman,puffingathiscigarette.</s>Shehadrisen,butshefellbackagainwithalittle cryofpain.</s>“I must finish,” she said. “When my term was overIsetmyselftogetthediaryandletterswhich,if senttotheRussianGovernment,wouldprocuremy friend’s release. I knew that my husband had come to England. After months of searching I discovered wherehewas. Iknewthathestillhadthediary,for when I was in Siberia I had a letter from him once reproachingmeandquotingsomepassagesfromits pages. YetIwassurethatwithhisrevengefulnature he would never give it to me of his own free will. I mustgetitformyself. WiththisobjectIengagedan agentfromaprivatedetectivefirm,whoenteredmy husband’s house as secretary—it was your second secretary,Sergius,theonewholeftyousohurriedly.</s>Hefoundthatpaperswerekeptinthecupboard,and he got an impression of the key. He would not go farther. He furnished me with a plan of the house, and he told me that in the forenoon the study was alwaysempty,asthesecretarywasemployeduphere.</s>SoatlastItookmycourageinbothhandsandIcame downtogetthepapersformyself. Isucceeded,but atwhatacost! “Ihadjusttakenthepapersandwaslockingthe cupboardwhentheyoungmanseizedme. Ihadseen him already that morning. He had met me in the roadandIhadaskedhimtotellmewhereProfessor Coramlived,notknowingthathewasinhisemploy.” “Exactly! exactly!” said Holmes. “The secretary came back and told his employer of the woman he had met. Then in his last breath he tried to send a messagethatitwasshe—theshewhomhehadjust discussedwithhim.” “Youmustletmespeak,”saidthewoman,inan imperativevoice,andherfacecontractedasifinpain.</s>“When he had fallen I rushed from the room, chose thewrongdoor,andfoundmyselfinmyhusband’s room. Hespokeofgivingmeup. Ishowedhimthat ifhedidsohislifewasinmyhands. Ifhegavemeto the law I could give him to the Brotherhood. It was notthatIwishedtoliveformyownsake,butitwas that I desired to accomplish my purpose. He knew that I would do what I said—that his own fate was involved in mine. For that reason and for no other heshieldedme. Hethrustmeintothatdarkhiding- place,arelicofolddays,knownonlytohimself. He took his meals in his own room, and so was able to givemepartofhisfood. Itwasagreedthatwhenthe policeleftthehouseIshouldslipawaybynightand comebacknomore. Butinsomewayyouhaveread our plans.” She tore from the bosom of her dress a small packet. “These are my last words,” said she; “here is the packet which will save Alexis. I confide it to your honour and to your love of justice. Take it! YouwilldeliveritattheRussianEmbassy. NowI havedonemyduty,and—” “Stopher!”criedHolmes. Hehadboundedacross the room and had wrenched a small phial from her hand.</s>“Toolate!”shesaid,sinkingbackonthebed. “Too late! I took the poison before I left my hiding-place.</s>My head swims! I am going! I charge you, sir, to rememberthepacket.” “Asimplecase,andyetinsomewaysaninstruc- tiveone,”Holmesremarked,aswetravelledbackto town. “Ithingedfromtheoutsetuponthepince-nez.</s>But for the fortunate chance of the dying man hav- ing seized these I am not sure that we could ever have reached our solution. It was clear to me from thestrengthoftheglassesthatthewearermusthave beenveryblindandhelplesswhendeprivedofthem.</s>Whenyouaskedmetobelievethatshewalkedalong anarrowstripofgrasswithoutoncemakingafalse stepIremarked,asyoumayremember,thatitwasa noteworthyperformance. InmymindIsetitdownas animpossibleperformance,saveintheunlikelycase that she had a second pair of glasses. I was forced, therefore, to seriously consider the hypothesis that she had remained within the house. On perceiving thesimilarityofthetwocorridorsitbecameclearthat shemightveryeasilyhavemadesuchamistake,and inthatcaseitwasevidentthatshemusthaveentered theProfessor’sroom. Iwaskeenlyonthealert,there- fore, for whatever would bear out this supposition, and I examined the room narrowly for anything in theshapeofahiding-place. Thecarpetseemedcon- tinuousandfirmlynailed,soIdismissedtheideaof atrap-door. Theremightwellbearecessbehindthe books. Asyouareaware,suchdevicesarecommonin oldlibraries. Iobservedthatbookswerepiledonthe floor at all other points, but that one bookcase was left clear. This, then, might be the door. I could see no marks to guide me, but the carpet was of a dun colour,whichlendsitselfverywelltoexamination. I therefore smoked a great number of those excellent cigarettes,andIdroppedtheashalloverthespacein frontofthesuspectedbookcase. Itwasasimpletrick, butexceedinglyeffective. Ithenwentdownstairsand Iascertained,inyourpresence,Watson,withoutyour perceiving the drift of my remarks, that ProfessorCoram’sconsumptionoffoodhadincreased—asone wouldexpectwhenheissupplyingasecondperson.</s>Wethenascendedtotheroomagain,when,byupset- tingthecigarette-box,Iobtainedaveryexcellentview of the floor, and was able to see quite clearly, from the traces upon the cigarette ash, that the prisoner had,inourabsence,comeoutfromherretreat. Well, Hopkins,hereweareatCharingCross,andIcongrat- ulateyouonhavingbroughtyourcasetoasuccessful conclusion. Youaregoingtohead-quarters,nodoubt.</s>Ithink,Watson,youandIwilldrivetogethertothe RussianEmbassy.”ewerefairlyaccustomedtoreceiveweird telegramsatBakerStreet,butIhaveapar- ticular recollection of one which reached W us on a gloomy February morning some seven or eight years ago and gave Mr. Sherlock Holmes a puzzled quarter of an hour. It was ad- dressedtohim,andranthus: “Please await me. Terrible misfortune.</s>Right wing three-quarter missing; indis- pensableto-morrow.</s>—Overton.” “Strandpost-markanddispatchedten-thirty-six,” saidHolmes,readingitoverandover. “Mr.Overton was evidently considerably excited when he sent it, andsomewhatincoherentinconsequence. Well,well, hewillbehere,Idaresay,bythetimeIhavelooked throughthetimes,andthenweshallknowallabout it. Even the most insignificant problem would be welcomeinthesestagnantdays.” Thingshadindeedbeenveryslowwithus,andI had learned to dread such periods of inaction, for I knewbyexperiencethatmycompanion’sbrainwas so abnormally active that it was dangerous to leave it without material upon which to work. For years I had gradually weaned him from that drug mania which had threatened once to check his remarkable career. Now I knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer craved for this artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend was not dead, but sleeping;andIhaveknownthatthesleepwasalight oneandthewakingnearwheninperiodsofidleness I have seen the drawn look upon Holmes’s ascetic face,andthebroodingofhisdeep-setandinscrutable eyes. ThereforeIblessedthisMr.Overton, whoever he might be, since he had come with his enigmatic messagetobreakthatdangerouscalmwhichbrought more peril to my friend than all the storms of his tempestuouslife.</s>As we had expected, the telegram was soon fol- lowedbyitssender,andthecardofMr.CyrilOverton, ofTrinityCollege,Cambridge,announcedthearrival of an enormous young man, sixteen stone of solid bone and muscle, who spanned the doorway with hisbroadshouldersandlookedfromoneofustothe other with a comely face which was haggard with anxiety.</s>“Mr.SherlockHolmes?” Mycompanionbowed.</s>“I’vebeendowntoScotlandYard,Mr.Holmes. I saw Inspector Stanley Hopkins. He advised me to come to you. He said the case, so far as he could see,wasmoreinyourlinethaninthatoftheregular police.” “Praysitdownandtellmewhatisthematter.” “It’s awful, Mr. Holmes, simply awful! I won- der my hair isn’t grey. Godfrey Staunton—you’ve heardofhim,ofcourse? He’ssimplythehingethat the whole team turns on. I’d rather spare two from thepackandhaveGodfreyformythree-quarterline.</s>Whetherit’spassing,ortackling,ordribbling,there’s noonetotouchhim;andthen,he’sgottheheadand can hold us all together. What am I to do? That’s whatIaskyou,Mr.Holmes. There’sMoorhouse,first reserve, but he is trained as a half, and he always edgesrightinontothescruminsteadofkeepingout onthetouch-line. He’safineplace-kick,it’strue,but, then,hehasnojudgment,andhecan’tsprintfornuts.</s>Why, Morton or Johnson, the Oxford fliers, could romp round him. Stevenson is fast enough, but he couldn’tdropfromthetwenty-fiveline,andathree- quarter who can’t either punt or drop isn’t worth a place for pace alone. No, Mr. Holmes, we are done unlessyoucanhelpmetofindGodfreyStaunton.” My friend had listened with amused surprise to this long speech, which was poured forth with ex- traordinary vigour and earnestness, every point be- ing driven home by the slapping of a brawny hand uponthespeaker’sknee. Whenourvisitorwassilent Holmesstretchedouthishandandtookdownletter “S” of his commonplace book. For once he dug in vainintothatmineofvariedinformation.</s>“There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger,” said he, “and there was Henry Staunton, whom I helped to hang, but Godfrey Staunton is anewnametome.” Itwasourvisitor’sturntolooksurprised.</s>“Why, Mr. Holmes, I thought you knew things,” said he. “I suppose, then, if you have never heard of Godfrey Staunton you don’t know Cyril Overton either?” Holmesshookhisheadgood-humouredly.</s>“Great Scot!” cried the athlete. “Why, I was first reserveforEnglandagainstWales,andI’veskippered the’Varsityallthisyear. Butthat’snothing! Ididn’t thinktherewasasoulinEnglandwhodidn’tknow GodfreyStaunton,thecrackthree-quarter,Cambridge, Blackheath,andfiveInternationals. GoodLord! Mr.</s>Holmes,wherehaveyoulived?” Holmeslaughedattheyounggiant’snaiveaston- ishment.“You live in a different world to me, Mr. Over- ton, a sweeter and healthier one. My ramifications stretch out into many sections of society, but never, I am happy to say, into amateur sport, which is the bestandsoundestthinginEngland. However,your unexpected visit this morning shows me that even inthatworldoffreshairandfairplaytheremaybe work for me to do; so now, my good sir, I beg you tositdownandtotellmeslowlyandquietlyexactly whatitisthathasoccurred,andhowyoudesirethat Ishouldhelpyou.” YoungOverton’sfaceassumedthebotheredlook of the man who is more accustomed to using his muscles than his wits; but by degrees, with many repetitionsandobscuritieswhichImayomitfromhis narrative,helaidhisstrangestorybeforeus.</s>“It’s this way, Mr. Holmes. As I have said, I am theskipperoftheRuggerteamofCambridge’Varsity, and Godfrey Staunton is my best man. To-morrow we play Oxford. Yesterday we all came up and we settledatBentley’sprivatehotel. Atteno’clockIwent roundandsawthatallthefellowshadgonetoroost, for I believe in strict training and plenty of sleep to keep a team fit. I had a word or two with Godfrey beforeheturnedin. Heseemedtometobepaleand bothered. Iaskedhimwhatwasthematter. Hesaid hewasallright—justatouchofheadache. Ibadehim good-nightandlefthim. Halfanhourlatertheporter tellsmethatarough-lookingmanwithabeardcalled withanoteforGodfrey. Hehadnotgonetobedand thenotewastakentohisroom. Godfreyreaditand fellbackinachairasifhehadbeenpole-axed. The porter was so scared that he was going to fetch me, butGodfreystoppedhim,hadadrinkofwater,and pulled himself together. Then he went downstairs, saidafewwordstothemanwhowaswaitinginthe hall,andthetwoofthemwentofftogether. Thelast that the porter saw of them, they were almost run- ning down the street in the direction of the Strand.</s>This morning Godfrey’s room was empty, his bed had never been slept in, and his things were all just as I had seen them the night before. He had gone off at a moment’s notice with this stranger, and no wordhascomefromhimsince. Idon’tbelievehewill ever come back. He was a sportsman, was Godfrey, downtohismarrow,andhewouldn’thavestopped his training and let in his skipper if it were not for some cause that was too strong for him. No; I feel asifheweregoneforgoodandweshouldneversee himagain.” SherlockHolmeslistenedwiththedeepestatten- tiontothissingularnarrative.</s>“Whatdidyoudo?”heasked.</s>“I wired to Cambridge to learn if anything had been heard of him there. I have had an answer. No onehasseenhim.” “CouldhehavegotbacktoCambridge?” “Yes,thereisalatetrain—quarter-pasteleven.” “But so far as you can ascertain he did not take it?” “No,hehasnotbeenseen.” “Whatdidyoudonext?” “IwiredtoLordMount-James.” “WhytoLordMount-James?” “Godfreyisanorphan,andLordMount-Jamesis hisnearestrelative—hisuncle,Ibelieve.” “Indeed. This throws new light upon the mat- ter. Lord Mount-James is one of the richest men in England.” “SoI’veheardGodfreysay.” “Andyourfriendwascloselyrelated?” “Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty—cram full of gout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue with his knuckles. He never allowedGodfreyashillinginhislife,forheisanab- solutemiser,butitwillallcometohimrightenough.” “HaveyouheardfromLordMount-James?” “No.” “Whatmotivecouldyourfriendhaveingoingto LordMount-James?” “Well,somethingwasworryinghimthenightbe- fore,andifitwastodowithmoneyitispossiblethat he would make for his nearest relative who had so muchofit,thoughfromallIhaveheardhewouldnot havemuchchanceofgettingit. Godfreywasnotfond oftheoldman. Hewouldnotgoifhecouldhelpit.” “Well,wecansoondeterminethat. Ifyourfriend wasgoingtohisrelative,LordMount-James,youhave thentoexplainthevisitofthisrough-lookingfellow atsolateanhour,andtheagitationthatwascaused byhiscoming.” Cyril Overton pressed his hands to his head. “I canmakenothingofit,”saidhe.</s>“Well,well,Ihaveaclearday,andIshallbehappy to look into the matter,” said Holmes. “I should stronglyrecommendyoutomakeyourpreparations foryourmatchwithoutreferencetothisyounggentle- man. Itmust,asyousay,havebeenanoverpowering necessitywhichtorehimawayinsuchafashion,and thesamenecessityislikelytoholdhimaway. Letussteproundtogethertothishotel,andseeiftheporter canthrowanyfreshlightuponthematter.” Sherlock Holmes was a past-master in the art of puttingahumblewitnessathisease,andverysoon, intheprivacyofGodfreyStaunton’sabandonedroom, he had extracted all that the porter had to tell. The visitor of the night before was not a gentleman, nei- therwasheaworkingman. Hewassimplywhatthe porterdescribedasa“medium-lookingchap”;aman offifty,beardgrizzled,paleface,quietlydressed. He seemed himself to be agitated. The porter had ob- servedhishandtremblingwhenhehadheldoutthe note. Godfrey Staunton had crammed the note into hispocket. Stauntonhadnotshakenhandswiththe maninthehall. Theyhadexchangedafewsentences, of which the porter had only distinguished the one word“time.”Thentheyhadhurriedoffinthemanner described. Itwasjusthalf-pasttenbythehallclock.</s>“Let me see,” said Holmes, seating himself on Staunton’s bed. “You are the day porter, are you not?” “Yes,sir;Igooffdutyateleven.” “Thenightportersawnothing,Isuppose?” “No, sir; one theatre party came in late. No one else.” “Wereyouondutyalldayyesterday?” “Yes,sir.” “DidyoutakeanymessagestoMr.Staunton?” “Yes,sir;onetelegram.” “Ah! that’sinteresting. Whato’clockwasthis?” “Aboutsix.” “WherewasMr.Stauntonwhenhereceivedit?” “Hereinhisroom.” “Wereyoupresentwhenheopenedit?” “Yes,sir;Iwaitedtoseeiftherewasananswer.” “Well,wasthere?” “Yes,sir. Hewroteananswer.” “Didyoutakeit?” “No;hetookithimself.” “Buthewroteitinyourpresence?” “Yes,sir. Iwasstandingbythedoor,andhewith hisbackturnedatthattable. Whenhehadwrittenit hesaid,‘Allright,porter,Iwilltakethismyself.’” “Whatdidhewriteitwith?” “Apen,sir.” “Was the telegraphic form one of these on the table?” “Yes,sir;itwasthetopone.” Holmes rose. Taking the forms he carried them over to the window and carefully examined that whichwasuppermost.</s>“It is a pity he did not write in pencil,” said he, throwing them down again with a shrug of dis- appointment. “As you have no doubt frequently observed, Watson, the impression usually goes through—a fact which has dissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. I re- joice,however,toperceivethathewrotewithabroad- pointedquillpen,andIcanhardlydoubtthatwewill findsomeimpressionuponthisblotting-pad. Ah,yes, surelythisistheverything!” Hetoreoffastripoftheblotting-paperandturned towardsusthefollowinghieroglyphic: CyrilOvertonwasmuchexcited. “Holdittothe glass!”hecried.</s>“That is unnecessary,” said Holmes. “The paper isthin,andthereversewillgivethemessage. Hereit is.”Heturneditoverandweread: “So that is the tail end of the telegram which GodfreyStauntondispatchedwithinafewhoursof his disappearance. There are at least six words of the message which have escaped us; but what re- mains—‘Stand by us for God’s sake!’—proves that thisyoungmansawa formidable dangerwhichap- proached him, and from which someone else could protecthim. ‘Us,’markyou! Anotherpersonwasin- volved. Whoshoulditbebutthepale-faced,bearded man,whoseemedhimselfinsonervousastate? What, then,istheconnectionbetweenGodfreyStauntonand thebeardedman? Andwhatisthethirdsourcefrom whicheachofthemsoughtforhelpagainstpressing danger? Ourinquiryhasalreadynarroweddownto that.” “We have only to find to whom that telegram is addressed,”Isuggested.</s>“Exactly,mydearWatson. Yourreflection,though profound,hadalreadycrossedmymind. ButIdare sayitmayhavecometoyournoticethatifyouwalk intoapost-officeanddemandtoseethecounterfoil ofanotherman’smessagetheremaybesomedisincli- nationonthepartoftheofficialstoobligeyou. There issomuchredtapeinthesematters! However,Ihave nodoubtthatwithalittledelicacyandfinessetheendmay be attained. Meanwhile, I should like in your presence, Mr. Overton, to go through these papers whichhavebeenleftuponthetable.” There were a number of letters, bills, and note- books,whichHolmesturnedoverandexaminedwith quick,nervousfingersanddarting,penetratingeyes.</s>“Nothing here,” he said, at last. “By the way, I sup- poseyourfriendwasahealthyyoungfellow—nothing amisswithhim?” “Soundasabell.” “Haveyoueverknownhimill?” “Notaday. Hehasbeenlaidupwithahack,and onceheslippedhisknee-cap,butthatwasnothing.” “Perhapshewasnotsostrongasyousuppose. I should think he may have had some secret trouble.</s>With your assent I will put one or two of these pa- persinmypocket,incasetheyshouldbearuponour futureinquiry.” “One moment! one moment!” cried a querulous voice,andwelookeduptofindaqueerlittleoldman, jerkingandtwitchinginthedoorway. Hewasdressed in rusty black, with a very broad brimmed top-hat andaloosewhitenecktie—thewholeeffectbeingthat of a very rustic parson or of an undertaker’s mute.</s>Yet, in spite of his shabby and even absurd appear- ance,hisvoicehadasharpcrackle,andhismannera quickintensitywhichcommandedattention.</s>“Whoareyou,sir,andbywhatrightdoyoutouch thisgentleman’spapers?”heasked.</s>“Iamaprivatedetective,andIamendeavouring toexplainhisdisappearance.” “Oh,youare,areyou? Andwhoinstructedyou, eh?” “This gentleman, Mr. Staunton’s friend, was re- ferredtomebyScotlandYard.” “Whoareyou,sir?” “IamCyrilOverton.” “Thenitisyouwhosentmeatelegram. Myname is Lord Mount-James. I came round as quickly as the Bayswater ’bus would bring me. So you have instructedadetective?” “Yes,sir.” “Andareyoupreparedtomeetthecost?” “Ihavenodoubt,sir,thatmyfriendGodfrey,when wefindhim,willbepreparedtodothat.” “Butifheisneverfound,eh? Answermethat!” “Inthatcasenodoubthisfamily—” “Nothingofthesort,sir!”screamedthelittleman.</s>“Don’t look to me for a penny—not a penny! You understand that, Mr. Detective! I am all the family thatthisyoungmanhasgot,andItellyouthatIam notresponsible. Ifhehasanyexpectationsitisdueto thefactthatIhaveneverwastedmoney,andIdonot propose to begin to do so now. As to those papers withwhichyouaremakingsofree,Imaytellyouthat incasethereshouldbeanythingofanyvalueamong themyouwillbeheldstrictlytoaccountforwhatyou dowiththem.” “Very good, sir,” said Sherlock Holmes. “May I askinthemeanwhilewhetheryouhaveyourselfany theory to account for this young man’s disappear- ance?” “No, sir, I have not. He is big enough and old enough to look after himself, and if he is so fool- ish as to lose himself I entirely refuse to accept the responsibilityofhuntingforhim.” “Iquiteunderstandyourposition,”saidHolmes, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Perhaps youdon’tquiteunderstandmine. GodfreyStaunton appearstohavebeenapoorman. Ifhehasbeenkid- nappeditcouldnothavebeenforanythingwhichhe himselfpossesses. Thefameofyourwealthhasgone abroad,LordMount-James,anditisentirelypossible thatagangofthieveshavesecuredyournephewin ordertogainfromhimsomeinformationastoyour house,yourhabits,andyourtreasure.” Thefaceofourunpleasantlittlevisitorturnedas whiteashisneckcloth.</s>“Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of suchvillainy! Whatinhumanroguesthereareinthe world! ButGodfreyisafinelad—astaunchlad. Noth- ingwouldinducehimtogivehisolduncleaway. I’ll have the plate moved over to the bank this evening.</s>Inthemeantimesparenopains,Mr.Detective! Ibeg you to leave no stone unturned to bring him safely back. As to money, well, so far as a fiver, or even a tenner,goes,youcanalwayslooktome.” Even in his chastened frame of mind the noble misercouldgiveusnoinformationwhichcouldhelp us,forheknewlittleoftheprivatelifeofhisnephew.</s>Ouronlycluelayinthetruncatedtelegram,andwith acopyofthisinhishandHolmessetforthtofinda second link for his chain. We had shaken off Lord Mount-James,andOvertonhadgonetoconsultwith the other members of his team over the misfortune whichhadbefallenthem.</s>There was a telegraph-office at a short distance fromthehotel. Wehaltedoutsideit.“It’s worth trying, Watson,” said Holmes. “Of course, with a warrant we could demand to see the counterfoils,butwehavenotreachedthatstageyet. I don’tsupposetheyrememberfacesinsobusyaplace.</s>Letusventureit.” “Iamsorrytotroubleyou,”saidhe,inhisbland- estmanner,totheyoungwomanbehindthegrating; “thereissomesmallmistakeaboutatelegramIsent yesterday. Ihavehadnoanswer,andIverymuchfear thatImusthaveomittedtoputmynameattheend.</s>Couldyoutellmeifthiswasso?” Theyoungwomanturnedoverasheafofcounter- foils.</s>“Whato’clockwasit?”sheasked.</s>“Alittleaftersix.” “Whomwasitto?” Holmes put his finger to his lips and glanced at me. “The last words in it were ‘for God’s sake,’” he whispered, confidentially; “I am very anxious at gettingnoanswer.” Theyoungwomanseparatedoneoftheforms.</s>“Thisisit. Thereisnoname,”saidshe,smoothing itoutuponthecounter.</s>“Thenthat,ofcourse,accountsformygettingno answer,” said Holmes. “Dear me, how very stupid of me, to be sure! Good morning, miss, and many thanks for having relieved my mind.” He chuckled and rubbed his hands when we found ourselves in thestreetoncemore.</s>“Well?”Iasked.</s>“We progress, my dear Watson, we progress. I hadsevendifferentschemesforgettingaglimpseof thattelegram,butIcouldhardlyhopetosucceedthe veryfirsttime.” “Andwhathaveyougained?” “Astarting-pointforourinvestigation.”Hehailed acab. “King’sCrossStation,”saidhe.</s>“Wehaveajourney,then?” “Yes; I think we must run down to Cambridge together. All the indications seem to me to point in thatdirection.” “Tell me,” I asked, as we rattled up Gray’s Inn Road,“haveyouanysuspicionyetastothecauseof thedisappearance? Idon’tthinkthatamongallour casesIhaveknownonewherethemotivesaremore obscure. Surelyyoudon’treallyimaginethathemay bekidnappedinordertogiveinformationagainsthis wealthyuncle?” “I confess, my dear Watson, that that does not appealtomeasaveryprobableexplanation. Itstruck me,however,asbeingtheonewhichwasmostlikely tointerestthatexceedinglyunpleasantoldperson.” “It certainly did that. But what are your alterna- tives?” “Icouldmentionseveral. Youmustadmitthatit is curious and suggestive that this incident should occurontheeveofthisimportantmatch,andshould involve the only man whose presence seems essen- tial to the success of the side. It may, of course, be coincidence, but it is interesting. Amateur sport is freefrombetting,butagooddealofoutsidebetting goes on among the public, and it is possible that it mightbeworthsomeone’swhiletogetataplayeras the ruffians of the turf get at a race-horse. There is one explanation. A second very obvious one is that thisyoungmanreallyistheheirofagreatproperty, howevermodesthismeansmayatpresentbe,andit isnotimpossiblethataplottoholdhimforransom mightbeconcocted.” “Thesetheoriestakenoaccountofthetelegram.” “Quite true, Watson. The telegram still remains theonlysolidthingwithwhichwehavetodeal,and we must not permit our attention to wander away from it. It is to gain light upon the purpose of this telegramthatwearenowuponourwaytoCambridge.</s>The path of our investigation is at present obscure, butIshallbeverymuchsurprisedifbeforeevening we have not cleared it up or made a considerable advancealongit.” ItwasalreadydarkwhenwereachedtheoldUni- versity city. Holmes took a cab at the station, and ordered the man to drive to the house of Dr. Leslie Armstrong. Afewminuteslaterwehadstoppedata largemansioninthebusiestthoroughfare. Wewere shownin,andafteralongwaitwereatlastadmitted intotheconsulting-room,wherewefoundthedoctor seatedbehindhistable.</s>ItarguesthedegreeinwhichIhadlosttouchwith myprofessionthatthenameofLeslieArmstrongwas unknowntome. NowIamawarethatheisnotonly one of the heads of the medical school of the Uni- versity,butathinkerofEuropeanreputationinmore thanonebranchofscience. Yetevenwithoutknowing hisbrilliantrecordonecouldnotfailtobeimpressed byamereglanceattheman,thesquare,massiveface, thebroodingeyesunderthethatchedbrows,andthe granitemouldingoftheinflexiblejaw. Amanofdeep character, a man with an alert mind, grim, ascetic, self-contained,formidable—soIreadDr.LeslieArm- strong. Heheldmyfriend’scardinhishand,andhelookedupwithnoverypleasedexpressionuponhis dourfeatures.</s>“I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, andIamawareofyourprofession,oneofwhichIby nomeansapprove.” “In that, doctor, you will find yourself in agree- ment with every criminal in the country,” said my friend,quietly.</s>“So far as your efforts are directed towards the suppression of crime, sir, they must have the sup- portofeveryreasonablememberofthecommunity, thoughIcannotdoubtthattheofficialmachineryis amplysufficientforthepurpose. Whereyourcalling is more open to criticism is when you pry into the secretsofprivateindividuals,whenyourakeupfam- ily matters which are better hidden, and when you incidentallywastethetimeofmenwhoaremorebusy than yourself. At the present moment, for example, I should be writing a treatise instead of conversing withyou.” “Nodoubt,doctor;andyettheconversationmay provemoreimportantthanthetreatise. Incidentally Imaytellyouthatwearedoingthereverseofwhat youveryjustlyblame,andthatweareendeavouring to prevent anything like public exposure of private matterswhichmustnecessarilyfollowwhenoncethe case is fairly in the hands of the official police. You may look upon me simply as an irregular pioneer whogoesinfrontoftheregularforcesofthecountry.</s>IhavecometoaskyouaboutMr.GodfreyStaunton.” “Whatabouthim?” “Youknowhim,doyounot?” “Heisanintimatefriendofmine.” “Youareawarethathehasdisappeared?” “Ah,indeed!”Therewasnochangeofexpression intheruggedfeaturesofthedoctor.</s>“Helefthishotellastnight. Hehasnotbeenheard of.” “Nodoubthewillreturn.” “To-morrowisthe’Varsityfootballmatch.” “I have no sympathy with these childish games.</s>The young man’s fate interests me deeply, since I knowhimandlikehim. Thefootballmatchdoesnot comewithinmyhorizonatall.” “Iclaimyoursympathy,then,inmyinvestigation ofMr.Staunton’sfate. Doyouknowwhereheis?” “Certainlynot.” “Youhavenotseenhimsinceyesterday?” “No,Ihavenot.” “WasMr.Stauntonahealthyman?” “Absolutely.” “Didyoueverknowhimill?” “Never.” Holmes popped a sheet of paper before the doc- tor’s eyes. “Then perhaps you will explain this re- ceiptedbillforthirteenguineas,paidbyMr.Godfrey StauntonlastmonthtoDr.LeslieArmstrongofCam- bridge. Ipickeditoutfromamongthepapersupon hisdesk.” Thedoctorflushedwithanger.</s>“IdonotfeelthatthereisanyreasonwhyIshould renderanexplanationtoyou,Mr.Holmes.” Holmesreplacedthebillinhisnote-book. “Ifyou prefer a public explanation it must come sooner or later,” said he. “I have already told you that I can hushupthatwhichotherswillbeboundtopublish, andyouwouldreallybewisertotakemeintoyour completeconfidence.” “Iknownothingaboutit.” “DidyouhearfromMr.StauntoninLondon?” “Certainlynot.” “Dearme,dearme;thepost-officeagain!”Holmes sighed, wearily. “A most urgent telegram was dis- patched to you from London by Godfrey Staunton atsix-fifteenyesterdayevening—atelegramwhichis undoubtedlyassociatedwithhisdisappearance—and yet you have not had it. It is most culpable. I shall certainly go down to the office here and register a complaint.” Dr.LeslieArmstrongsprangupfrombehindhis desk,andhisdarkfacewascrimsonwithfury.</s>“I’lltroubleyoutowalkoutofmyhouse,sir,”said he. “Youcantellyouremployer,LordMount-James, thatIdonotwishtohaveanythingtodoeitherwith himorwithhisagents. No,sir,notanotherword!”He rangthebellfuriously. “John,showthesegentlemen out!” A pompous butler ushered us severely to the door, and we found ourselves in the street. Holmes burstoutlaughing.</s>“Dr.LeslieArmstrongiscertainlyamanofenergy andcharacter,”saidhe. “Ihavenotseenamanwho, ifheturnedhistalentsthatway,wasmorecalculated to fill the gap left by the illustrious Moriarty. And now, my poor Watson, here we are, stranded and friendlessinthisinhospitabletown,whichwecannot leavewithoutabandoningourcase. Thislittleinnjust oppositeArmstrong’shouseissingularlyadaptedto our needs. If you would engage a front room andpurchase the necessaries for the night, I may have timetomakeafewinquiries.” Thesefewinquiriesproved,however,tobeamore lengthy proceeding than Holmes had imagined, for hedidnotreturntotheinnuntilnearlynineo’clock.</s>He was pale and dejected, stained with dust, and exhausted with hunger and fatigue. A cold supper wasreadyuponthetable,andwhenhisneedswere satisfied and his pipe alight he was ready to take that half comic and wholly philosophic view which wasnaturaltohimwhenhisaffairsweregoingawry.</s>Thesoundofcarriagewheelscausedhimtoriseand glance out of the window. A brougham and pair of greysundertheglareofagas-lampstoodbeforethe doctor’sdoor.</s>“It’sbeenoutthreehours,”saidHolmes;“started athalf-pastsix,andhereitisbackagain. Thatgivesa radiusoftenortwelvemiles,andhedoesitonce,or sometimestwice,aday.” “Nounusualthingforadoctorinpractice.” “ButArmstrongisnotreallyadoctorinpractice.</s>He is a lecturer and a consultant, but he does not careforgeneralpractice,whichdistractshimfromhis literary work. Why, then, does he make these long journeys,whichmustbeexceedinglyirksometohim, andwhoisitthathevisits?” “Hiscoachman—” “MydearWatson,canyoudoubtthatitwastohim that I first applied? I do not know whether it came from his own innate depravity or from the prompt- ings of his master, but he was rude enough to set a dogatme. Neitherdognormanlikedthelookofmy stick,however,andthematterfellthrough. Relations werestrainedafterthat,andfurtherinquiriesoutof the question. All that I have learned I got from a friendlynativeintheyardofourowninn. Itwashe who told me of the doctor’s habits and of his daily journey. At that instant, to give point to his words, thecarriagecameroundtothedoor.” “Couldyounotfollowit?” “Excellent, Watson! You are scintillating this evening. The idea did cross my mind. There is, as you may have observed, a bicycle shop next to our inn. Into this I rushed, engaged a bicycle, and was able to get started before the carriage was quite out ofsight. Irapidlyovertookit,andthen,keepingata discreetdistanceofahundredyardsorso,Ifollowed its lights until we were clear of the town. We had got well out on the country road when a somewhat mortifyingincidentoccurred. Thecarriagestopped, the doctor alighted, walked swiftly back to where I hadalsohalted,andtoldmeinanexcellentsardonic fashionthathefearedtheroadwasnarrow,andthat hehopedhiscarriagedidnotimpedethepassageof mybicycle. Nothingcouldhavebeenmoreadmirable than his way of putting it. I at once rode past the carriage, and, keeping to the main road, I went on forafewmiles,andthenhaltedinaconvenientplace toseeifthecarriagepassed. Therewasnosignofit, however,andsoitbecameevidentthatithadturned downoneofseveralsideroadswhichIhadobserved.</s>I rode back, but again saw nothing of the carriage, and now, as you perceive, it has returned after me.</s>Of course, I had at the outset no particular reason toconnectthesejourneyswiththedisappearanceof Godfrey Staunton, and was only inclined to inves- tigate them on the general grounds that everything whichconcernsDr.Armstrongisatpresentofinterest tous;but,nowthatIfindhekeepssokeenalook-out upon anyone who may follow him on these excur- sions,theaffairappearsmoreimportant,andIshall notbesatisfieduntilIhavemadethematterclear.” “Wecanfollowhimto-morrow.” “Can we? It is not so easy as you seem to think.</s>You are not familiar with Cambridgeshire scenery, are you? It does not lend itself to concealment. All thiscountrythatIpassedoverto-nightisasflatand cleanasthepalmofyourhand,andthemanweare following is no fool, as he very clearly showed to- night. I have wired to Overton to let us know any freshLondondevelopmentsatthisaddress,andinthe meantimewecanonlyconcentrateourattentionupon Dr.Armstrong,whosenametheobligingyounglady attheofficeallowedmetoreaduponthecounterfoil ofStaunton’surgentmessage. Heknowswherethe young man is—to that I’ll swear—and if he knows, thenitmustbeourownfaultifwecannotmanageto know also. At present it must be admitted that the oddtrickisinhispossession,and,asyouareaware, Watson, it is not my habit to leave the game in that condition.” Andyetthenextdaybroughtusnonearertothe solutionofthemystery. Anotewashandedinafter breakfast,whichHolmespassedacrosstomewitha smile.</s>Sir[itran]: I can assure you that you are wasting your time in dogging my movements. I have,asyoudiscoveredlastnight,awin- dow at the back of my brougham, and if you desire a twenty-mile ride which willleadyoutothespotfromwhichyoustarted,youhaveonlytofollowme. Mean- while, I can inform you that no spying uponmecaninanywayhelpMr.Godfrey Staunton,andIamconvincedthatthebest serviceyoucandotothatgentlemanisto return at once to London and to report to your employer that you are unable to trace him. Your time in Cambridge will certainlybewasted.</s>—Yoursfaithfully, LeslieArmstrong.</s>“Anoutspoken,honestantagonististhedoctor,” saidHolmes. “Well,well,heexcitesmycuriosity,and ImustreallyknowmorebeforeIleavehim.” “His carriage is at his door now,” said I. “There he is stepping into it. I saw him glance up at our windowashedidso. SupposeItrymyluckuponthe bicycle?” “No, no, my dear Watson! With all respect for yournaturalacumenIdonotthinkthatyouarequite amatchfortheworthydoctor. IthinkthatpossiblyI canattainourendbysomeindependentexplorations of my own. I am afraid that I must leave you to your own devices, as the appearance of two inquir- ingstrangersuponasleepycountrysidemightexcite more gossip than I care for. No doubt you will find somesightstoamuseyouinthisvenerablecity,andI hope to bring back a more favourable report to you beforeevening.” Once more, however, my friend was destined to be disappointed. He came back at night weary and unsuccessful.</s>“I have had a blank day, Watson. Having got thedoctor’sgeneraldirection,Ispentthedayinvis- iting all the villages upon that side of Cambridge, andcomparingnoteswithpublicansandotherlocal newsagencies. Ihavecoveredsomeground: Chester- ton, Histon, Waterbeach, and Oakington have each been explored and have each proved disappointing.</s>Thedailyappearanceofabroughamandpaircould hardlyhavebeenoverlookedinsuchSleepyHollows.</s>Thedoctorhasscoredoncemore. Isthereatelegram forme?” “Yes;Iopenedit. Hereitis: “‘Ask for Pompey from Jeremy Dixon, TrinityCollege.’ “Idon’tunderstandit.” “Oh,itisclearenough. ItisfromourfriendOver- ton,andisinanswertoaquestionfromme. I’lljust send round a note to Mr. Jeremy Dixon, and then I havenodoubtthatourluckwillturn. Bytheway,is thereanynewsofthematch?” “Yes,thelocaleveningpaperhasanexcellentac- count in its last edition. Oxford won by a goal and twotries. Thelastsentencesofthedescriptionsay: “‘The defeat of the Light Blues may be en- tirely attributed to the unfortunate absence of the crack International, Godfrey Staunton, whose want was felt at every instant of the game. The lack of combination in the three- quarterlineandtheirweaknessbothinattack and defence more than neutralized the efforts ofaheavyandhard-workingpack.’” “Then our friend Overton’s forebodings have been justified,” said Holmes. “Personally I am in agree- mentwithDr.Armstrong,andfootballdoesnotcome withinmyhorizon. Earlytobedto-night,Watson,for Iforeseethatto-morrowmaybeaneventfulday.” IwashorrifiedbymyfirstglimpseofHolmesnext morning,forhesatbythefireholdinghistinyhypo- dermicsyringe. Iassociatedthatinstrumentwiththe singleweaknessofhisnature,andIfearedtheworst when I saw it glittering in his hand. He laughed at myexpressionofdismay,andlaidituponthetable.</s>“No, no, my dear fellow, there is no cause for alarm. It is not upon this occasion the instrument of evil, but it will rather prove to be the key which will unlock our mystery. On this syringe I base all myhopes. Ihavejustreturnedfromasmallscouting expeditionandeverythingisfavourable. Eatagood breakfast,Watson,forIproposetogetuponDr.Arm- strong’strailto-day,andonceonitIwillnotstopfor restorfooduntilIrunhimtohisburrow.” “Inthatcase,”saidI,“wehadbestcarryourbreak- fast with us, for he is making an early start. His carriageisatthedoor.” “Never mind. Let him go. He will be clever if he can drive where I cannot follow him. When you have finished come downstairs with me, and I will introduce you to a detective who is a very eminent specialistintheworkthatliesbeforeus.” When we descended I followed Holmes into the stableyard,whereheopenedthedoorofaloose-box and led out a squat, lop-eared, white-and-tan dog, somethingbetweenabeagleandafoxhound.</s>“LetmeintroduceyoutoPompey,”saidhe. “Pom- peyistheprideofthelocaldraghounds,noverygreatflier,ashisbuildwillshow,butastaunchhoundona scent. Well,Pompey,youmaynotbefast,butIexpect youwillbetoofastforacoupleofmiddle-agedLon- dongentlemen,soIwilltakethelibertyoffastening thisleatherleashtoyourcollar. Now,boy,comealong, andshowwhatyoucando.”Heledhimacrosstothe doctor’sdoor. Thedogsniffedroundforaninstant, andthenwithashrillwhineofexcitementstartedoff downthestreet,tuggingathisleashinhiseffortsto gofaster. Inhalfanhour,wewereclearofthetown andhasteningdownacountryroad.</s>“Whathaveyoudone,Holmes?”Iasked.</s>“A threadbare and venerable device, but useful upon occasion. I walked into the doctor’s yard this morning and shot my syringe full of aniseed over the hind wheel. A draghound will follow aniseed from here to John o’ Groat’s, and our friend Arm- strongwouldhavetodrivethroughtheCambefore hewouldshakePompeyoffhistrail. Oh,thecunning rascal! This is how he gave me the slip the other night.” The dog had suddenly turned out of the main road into a grass-grown lane. Half a mile farther this opened into another broad road, and the trail turnedhardtotherightinthedirectionofthetown, whichwehadjustquitted. Theroadtookasweepto thesouthofthetownandcontinuedintheopposite directiontothatinwhichwestarted.</s>“This de´tour has been entirely for our benefit, then?” said Holmes. “No wonder that my inquiries amongthosevillagesledtonothing. Thedoctorhas certainlyplayedthegameforallitisworth,andone wouldliketoknowthereasonforsuchelaboratede- ception. ThisshouldbethevillageofTrumpingtonto the right of us. And, by Jove! here is the brougham coming round the corner. Quick, Watson, quick, or wearedone!” He sprang through a gate into a field, dragging the reluctant Pompey after him. We had hardly got undertheshelterofthehedgewhenthecarriagerat- tledpast. IcaughtaglimpseofDr.Armstrongwithin, hisshouldersbowed,hisheadsunkonhishands,the veryimageofdistress. Icouldtellbymycompanion’s graverfacethathealsohadseen.</s>“I fear there is some dark ending to our quest,” saidhe. “Itcannotbelongbeforeweknowit. Come, Pompey! Ah,itisthecottageinthefield!” There could be no doubt that we had reached the end of our journey. Pompey ran about and whined eagerly outside the gate where the marks of the brougham’s wheels were still to be seen. A footpathledacrosstothelonelycottage. Holmestied thedogtothehedge,andwehastenedonwards. My friendknockedatthelittlerusticdoor,andknocked againwithoutresponse. Andyetthecottagewasnot deserted,foralowsoundcametoourears—akindof droneofmiseryanddespair,whichwasindescribably melancholy. Holmespausedirresolute,andthenhe glancedbackattheroadwhichwehadjusttraversed.</s>Abroughamwascomingdownit,andtherecouldbe nomistakingthosegreyhorses.</s>“By Jove, the doctor is coming back!” cried Holmes. “Thatsettlesit. Weareboundtoseewhatit meansbeforehecomes.” Heopenedthedoorandwesteppedintothehall.</s>Thedroningsoundswelledlouderuponourearsun- tilitbecameonelong,deepwailofdistress. Itcame fromupstairs. HolmesdartedupandIfollowedhim.</s>Hepushedopenahalf-closeddoorandwebothstood appalledatthesightbeforeus.</s>A woman, young and beautiful, was lying dead upon the bed. Her calm, pale face, with dim, wide- openedblueeyes,lookedupwardfromamidagreat tangleofgoldenhair. Atthefootofthebed,halfsit- ting,halfkneeling,hisfaceburiedintheclothes,was a young man, whose frame was racked by his sobs.</s>So absorbed was he by his bitter grief that he never lookedupuntilHolmes’shandwasonhisshoulder.</s>“AreyouMr.GodfreyStaunton?” “Yes,yes;Iam—butyouaretoolate. Sheisdead.” Themanwassodazedthathecouldnotbemade to understand that we were anything but doctors whohadbeensenttohisassistance. Holmeswasen- deavouringtoutterafewwordsofconsolation,and to explain the alarm which had been caused to his friendsbyhissuddendisappearance,whentherewas astepuponthestairs,andtherewastheheavy,stern, questioningfaceofDr.Armstrongatthedoor.</s>“So,gentlemen,”saidhe,“youhaveattainedyour end,andhavecertainlychosenaparticularlydelicate momentforyourintrusion. Iwouldnotbrawlinthe presenceofdeath,butIcanassureyouthatifIwere a younger man your monstrous conduct would not passwithimpunity.” “Excuseme,Dr.Armstrong,Ithinkwearealittle atcross-purposes,”saidmyfriend,withdignity. “If you could step downstairs with us we may each be abletogivesomelighttotheotheruponthismiser- ableaffair.” Aminutelaterthegrimdoctorandourselveswere inthesitting-roombelow.</s>“Well,sir?”saidhe.“Iwishyoutounderstand,inthefirstplace,that I am not employed by Lord Mount-James, and that mysympathiesinthismatterareentirelyagainstthat nobleman. Whenamanislostitismydutytoascer- tain his fate, but having done so the matter ends so farasIamconcerned;andsolongasthereisnothing criminal,Iammuchmoreanxioustohushupprivate scandals than to give them publicity. If, as I imag- ine, thereisnobreachofthelawinthismatter, you can absolutely depend upon my discretion and my co-operationinkeepingthefactsoutofthepapers.” Dr. Armstrong took a quick step forward and wrungHolmesbythehand.</s>“Youareagoodfellow,”saidhe. “Ihadmisjudged you. IthankHeaventhatmycompunctionatleaving poor Staunton all alone in this plight caused me to turnmycarriageback,andsotomakeyouracquain- tance. Knowing as much as you do, the situation is veryeasilyexplained. AyearagoGodfreyStaunton lodged in London for a time, and became passion- ately attached to his landlady’s daughter, whom he married. Shewasasgoodasshewasbeautiful,and as intelligent as she was good. No man need be ashamedofsuchawife. ButGodfreywastheheirto this crabbed old nobleman, and it was quite certain that the news of his marriage would have been the end of his inheritance. I knew the lad well, and I lovedhimforhismanyexcellentqualities. IdidallI couldtohelphimtokeepthingsstraight. Wedidour verybesttokeepthethingfromeveryone,forwhen oncesuchawhispergetsaboutitisnotlongbefore everyonehasheardit. Thankstothislonelycottage andhisowndiscretion,Godfreyhasuptonowsuc- ceeded. Their secret was known to no one save to me and to one excellent servant who has at present goneforassistancetoTrumpington. Butatlastthere cameaterribleblowintheshapeofdangerousillness tohiswife. Itwasconsumptionofthemostvirulent kind. The poor boy was half crazed with grief, and yethehadtogotoLondontoplaythismatch,forhe could not get out of it without explanations which wouldexposehissecret. Itriedtocheerhimupbya wire,andhesentmeoneinreplyimploringmetodo allIcould. Thiswasthetelegramwhichyouappear insomeinexplicablewaytohaveseen. Ididnottell him how urgent the danger was, for I knew that he could do no good here, but I sent the truth to the girl’sfather,andheveryinjudiciouslycommunicated it to Godfrey. The result was that he came straight awayinastateborderingonfrenzy,andhasremained inthesamestate,kneelingattheendofherbed,until thismorningdeathputanendtohersufferings. That isall,Mr.Holmes,andIamsurethatIcanrelyupon yourdiscretionandthatofyourfriend.” Holmesgraspedthedoctor’shand.</s>“Come, Watson,” said he, and we passed from thathouseofgriefintothepalesunlightofthewinter day.twasonabitterlycoldandfrostymorning during the winter of ’97 that I was awak- ened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was I Holmes.Thecandleinhishandshoneupon hiseager,stoopingfaceandtoldmeataglancethat somethingwasamiss.</s>“Come, Watson, come!” he cried. “The game is afoot. Notaword! Intoyourclothesandcome!” Ten minutes later we were both in a cab and rat- tlingthroughthesilentstreetsonourwaytoCharing CrossStation. Thefirstfaintwinter’sdawnwasbegin- ningtoappear,andwecoulddimlyseetheoccasional figureofanearlyworkmanashepassedus,blurred andindistinctintheopalescentLondonreek. Holmes nestledinsilenceintohisheavycoat,andIwasglad todothesame,fortheairwasmostbitterandneither of us had broken our fast. It was not until we had consumedsomehotteaatthestation,andtakenour placesintheKentishtrain,thatweweresufficiently thawed, he to speak and I to listen. Holmes drew a notefromhispocketandreaditaloud: “AbbeyGrange,Marsham,Kent, “3.30a.m.</s>“MydearMr.Holmes: “I should be very glad of your imme- diate assistance in what promises to be a most remarkable case. It is something quiteinyourline. Exceptforreleasingthe lady I will see that everything is kept ex- actlyasIhavefoundit,butIbegyounot toloseaninstant,asitisdifficulttoleave SirEustacethere.</s>—“Yoursfaithfully, “StanleyHopkins.” “Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion his summons has been entirely justi- fied,” said Holmes. “I fancy that every one of his cases has found its way into your collection, and I must admit, Watson, that you have some power of selection which atones for much which I deplore in yournarratives. Yourfatalhabitoflookingatevery- thingfromthepointofviewofastoryinsteadofasa scientificexercisehasruinedwhatmighthavebeenan instructiveandevenclassicalseriesofdemonstrations.</s>Yousluroverworkoftheutmostfinesseanddelicacy inordertodwelluponsensationaldetailswhichmay excite,butcannotpossiblyinstruct,thereader.” “Why do you not write them yourself?” I said, withsomebitterness.</s>“Iwill,mydearWatson,Iwill. AtpresentIam,as youknow,fairlybusy,butIproposetodevotemyde- cliningyearstothecompositionofatext-bookwhich shallfocusthewholeartofdetectionintoonevolume.</s>Ourpresentresearchappearstobeacaseofmurder.” “YouthinkthisSirEustaceisdead,then?” “Ishouldsayso. Hopkins’swritingshowsconsid- erableagitation,andheisnotanemotionalman. Yes, I gather there has been violence, and that the body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would not have caused him to send for me. As to the release ofthelady,itwouldappearthatshehasbeenlocked in her room during the tragedy. We are moving in highlife,Watson;cracklingpaper,‘E.B.’monogram, coat-of-arms,picturesqueaddress. Ithinkthatfriend Hopkins will live up to his reputation and that we shall have an interesting morning. The crime was committedbeforetwelvelastnight.” “Howcanyoupossiblytell?” “Byaninspectionofthetrainsandbyreckoning the time. The local police had to be called in, they had to communicate with Scotland Yard, Hopkins hadtogoout,andheinturnhadtosendforme. All that makes a fair night’s work. Well, here we are at ChislehurstStation,andweshallsoonsetourdoubts atrest.” Adriveofacoupleofmilesthroughnarrowcoun- trylanesbroughtustoaparkgate,whichwasopened for us by an old lodge-keeper, whose haggard face borethereflectionofsomegreatdisaster. Theavenue ran through a noble park, between lines of ancient elms,andendedinalow,widespreadhouse,pillared infrontafterthefashionofPalladio. Thecentralpart wasevidentlyofagreatageandshroudedinivy,but thelargewindowsshowedthatmodernchangeshad beencarriedout,andonewingofthehouseappeared tobeentirelynew. Theyouthfulfigureandalert,ea- gerfaceofInspectorStanleyHopkinsconfrontedus intheopendoorway.</s>“I’mverygladyouhavecome,Mr.Holmes. And you too, Dr. Watson! But, indeed, if I had my time overagainIshouldnothavetroubledyou,forsince the lady has come to herself she has given so clear an account of the affair that there is not much left for us to do. You remember that Lewisham gang of burglars?” “What,thethreeRandalls?” “Exactly;thefatherandtwosons. It’stheirwork.</s>Ihavenotadoubtofit. TheydidajobatSydenham afortnightago,andwereseenanddescribed. Rathercooltodoanothersosoonandsonear,butitisthey, beyondalldoubt. It’sahangingmatterthistime.” “SirEustaceisdead,then?” “Yes; his head was knocked in with his own poker.” “SirEustaceBrackenstall,thedrivertellsme.” “Exactly—one of the richest men in Kent. Lady Brackenstall is in the morning-room. Poor lady, she hashadamostdreadfulexperience. Sheseemedhalf dead when I saw her first. I think you had best see her and hear her account of the facts. Then we will examinethedining-roomtogether.” Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person. Sel- dom have I seen so graceful a figure, so womanly a presence, and so beautiful a face. She was a blonde, golden-haired,blue-eyed,andwould,nodoubt,have had the perfect complexion which goes with such colouringhadnotherrecentexperienceleftherdrawn and haggard. Her sufferings were physical as well as mental, for over one eye rose a hideous, plum- coloured swelling, which her maid, a tall, austere woman, was bathing assiduously with vinegar and water. Theladylaybackexhausteduponacouch,but her quick, observant gaze as we entered the room, and the alert expression of her beautiful features, showed that neither her wits nor her courage had been shaken by her terrible experience. She was en- velopedinaloosedressing-gownofblueandsilver, but a black sequin-covered dinner-dress was hung uponthecouchbesideher.</s>“Ihavetoldyouallthathappened,Mr.Hopkins,” she said, wearily; “could you not repeat it for me? Well,ifyouthinkitnecessary,Iwilltellthesegentle- men what occurred. Have they been in the dining- roomyet?” “I thought they had better hear your ladyship’s storyfirst.” “Ishallbegladwhenyoucanarrangematters. It ishorribletometothinkofhimstilllyingthere.”She shudderedandburiedherfaceinherhands. Asshe did so the loose gown fell back from her forearms.</s>Holmesutteredanexclamation.</s>“You have other injuries, madam! What is this?” Two vivid red spots stood out on one of the white, roundlimbs. Shehastilycoveredit.</s>“It is nothing. It has no connection with the hideousbusinessoflastnight. Ifyouandyourfriend willsitdownIwilltellyouallIcan.</s>“IamthewifeofSirEustaceBrackenstall. Ihave been married about a year. I suppose that it is no usemyattemptingtoconcealthatourmarriagehas notbeenahappyone. Ifearthatallourneighbours wouldtellyouthat,evenifIweretoattempttodenyit.</s>Perhapsthefaultmaybepartlymine. Iwasbrought upinthefreer,lessconventionalatmosphereofSouth Australia, and this English life, with its proprieties and its primness, is not congenial to me. But the main reason lies in the one fact which is notorious to everyone, and that is that Sir Eustace was a con- firmeddrunkard. Tobewithsuchamanforanhour isunpleasant. Canyouimaginewhatitmeansfora sensitiveandhigh-spiritedwomantobetiedtohim for day and night? It is a sacrilege, a crime, a vil- lainy to hold that such a marriage is binding. I say thatthesemonstrouslawsofyourswillbringacurse upontheland—Heavenwillnotletsuchwickedness endure.”Foraninstantshesatup,hercheeksflushed, and her eyes blazing from under the terrible mark uponherbrow. Thenthestrong,soothinghandofthe austeremaiddrewherheaddownontothecushion, andthewildangerdiedawayintopassionatesobbing.</s>Atlastshecontinued:— “I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in this house all servants sleep in the modern wing. This central block is made up of the dwelling-rooms,withthekitchenbehindandourbed- roomabove. MymaidTheresasleepsabovemyroom.</s>Thereisnooneelse,andnosoundcouldalarmthose whoareinthefartherwing. Thismusthavebeenwell knowntotherobbers,ortheywouldnothaveacted astheydid.</s>“Sir Eustace retired about half-past ten. The ser- vants had already gone to their quarters. Only my maidwasup, andshehadremainedinherroomat thetopofthehouseuntilIneededherservices. Isat until after eleven in this room, absorbed in a book.</s>ThenIwalkedroundtoseethatallwasrightbefore Iwentupstairs. Itwasmycustomtodothismyself, for, as I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to be trusted. I went into the kitchen, the butler’s pantry,thegun-room,thebilliard-room,thedrawing- room,andfinallythedining-room. AsIapproached the window, which is covered with thick curtains, I suddenlyfeltthewindblowuponmyfaceandreal- ized that it was open. I flung the curtain aside and found myself face to face with a broad-shouldered, elderlymanwhohadjuststeppedintotheroom. The window is a long French one, which really forms a doorleadingtothelawn. Iheldmybedroomcandle litinmyhand,and,byitslight,behindthefirstman I saw two others, who were in the act of entering. I steppedback,butthefellowwasonmeinaninstant.Hecaughtmefirstbythewristandthenbythethroat.</s>I opened my mouth to scream, but he struck me a savageblowwithhisfistovertheeye,andfelledme to the ground. I must have been unconscious for a fewminutes,forwhenIcametomyselfIfoundthat they had torn down the bell-rope and had secured me tightly to the oaken chair which stands at the headofthedining-roomtable. Iwassofirmlybound thatIcouldnotmove,andahandkerchiefroundmy mouthpreventedmefromutteringanysound. Itwas atthisinstantthatmyunfortunatehusbandentered the room. He had evidently heard some suspicious sounds, and he came prepared for such a scene as he found. He was dressed in his shirt and trousers, withhisfavouriteblackthorncudgelinhishand. He rushedatoneoftheburglars,butanother—itwasthe elderly man—stooped, picked the poker out of the grate, and struck him a horrible blow as he passed.</s>He fell without a groan, and never moved again. I faintedoncemore,butagainitcouldonlyhavebeen a very few minutes during which I was insensible.</s>When I opened my eyes I found that they had col- lected the silver from the sideboard, and they had drawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of them had a glass in his hand. I have already told you, have I not, that one was elderly, with a beard, andtheothersyoung,hairlesslads. Theymighthave beenafatherwithhistwosons. Theytalkedtogether in whispers. Then they came over and made sure thatIwasstillsecurelybound. Finallytheywithdrew, closingthewindowafterthem. Itwasquiteaquarter ofanhourbeforeIgotmymouthfree. WhenIdidso myscreamsbroughtthemaidtomyassistance. The other servants were soon alarmed, and we sent for the local police, who instantly communicated with London. That is really all that I can tell you, gentle- men, andItrustthatitwillnotbenecessaryforme togooversopainfulastoryagain.” “Anyquestions,Mr.Holmes?”askedHopkins.</s>“I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall’spatienceandtime,”saidHolmes. “Be- fore I go into the dining-room I should like to hear yourexperience.”Helookedatthemaid.</s>“I saw the men before ever they came into the house,”saidshe. “AsIsatbymybedroomwindowI saw three men in the moonlight down by the lodge gateyonder,butIthoughtnothingofitatthetime. It wasmorethananhourafterthatIheardmymistress scream,anddownIran,tofindher,poorlamb,just asshesays,andhimonthefloorwithhisbloodand brainsovertheroom. Itwasenoughtodriveawoman outofherwits,tiedthere,andherverydressspotted with him; but she never wanted courage, did Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide, and Lady Brackenstall of AbbeyGrangehasn’tlearnednewways. You’veques- tionedherlongenough,yougentlemen,andnowshe iscomingtoherownroom,justwithheroldTheresa, togettherestthatshebadlyneeds.” Withamotherlytendernessthegauntwomanput her arm round her mistress and led her from the room.</s>“Shehasbeenwithherallherlife,”saidHopkins.</s>“Nursedherasababy,andcamewithhertoEngland when they first left Australia eighteen months ago.</s>Theresa Wright is her name, and the kind of maid youdon’tpickupnowadays. Thisway,Mr.Holmes, ifyouplease!” ThekeeninteresthadpassedoutofHolmes’sex- pressiveface,andIknewthatwiththemysteryallthe charmofthecasehaddeparted. Therestillremained an arrest to be effected, but what were these com- monplaceroguesthatheshouldsoilhishandswith them? Anabstruseandlearnedspecialistwhofinds thathehasbeencalledinforacaseofmeasleswould experiencesomethingoftheannoyancewhichIread inmyfriend’seyes. Yetthesceneinthedining-room oftheAbbeyGrangewassufficientlystrangetoarrest hisattentionandtorecallhiswaninginterest.</s>Itwasaverylargeandhighchamber,withcarved oakceiling,oakenpanelling,andafinearrayofdeer’s heads and ancient weapons around the walls. At the farther end from the door was the high French windowofwhichwehadheard. Threesmallerwin- dowsontheright-handsidefilledtheapartmentwith cold winter sunshine. On the left was a large, deep fireplace, with a massive, over-hanging oak mantel- piece. Beside the fireplace was a heavy oaken chair with arms and cross-bars at the bottom. In and out through the open woodwork was woven a crimson cord,whichwassecuredateachsidetothecrosspiece below. Inreleasingtheladythecordhadbeenslipped offher,buttheknotswithwhichithadbeensecured stillremained. Thesedetailsonlystruckourattention afterwards,forourthoughtswereentirelyabsorbed by the terrible object which lay upon the tiger-skin hearthruginfrontofthefire.</s>It was the body of a tall, well-made man, about fortyyearsofage. Helayuponhisback,hisfaceup- turned, with his white teeth grinning through his short black beard. His two clenched hands were raised above his head, and a heavy blackthorn stick lay across them. His dark, handsome, aquiline fea- tures were convulsed into a spasm of vindictive ha- tred,whichhadsethisdeadfaceinaterriblyfiendishexpression. He had evidently been in his bed when thealarmhadbrokenout,forheworeafoppishem- broiderednight-shirt,andhisbarefeetprojectedfrom histrousers. Hisheadwashorriblyinjured,andthe wholeroomborewitnesstothesavageferocityofthe blow which had struck him down. Beside him lay theheavypoker,bentintoacurvebytheconcussion.</s>Holmesexaminedbothitandtheindescribablewreck whichithadwrought.</s>“Hemustbeapowerfulman,thiselderRandall,” heremarked.</s>“Yes,” said Hopkins. “I have some record of the fellow,andheisaroughcustomer.” “Youshouldhavenodifficultyingettinghim.” “Nottheslightest. Wehavebeenonthelook-out for him, and there was some idea that he had got away to America. Now that we know the gang are here I don’t see how they can escape. We have the newsateveryseaportalready,andarewardwillbe offered before evening. What beats me is how they could have done so mad a thing, knowing that the ladycoulddescribethem,andthatwecouldnotfail torecognisethedescription.” “Exactly. One would have expected that they wouldhavesilencedLadyBrackenstallaswell.” “Theymaynothaverealized,”Isuggested,“that shehadrecoveredfromherfaint.” “Thatislikelyenough. Ifsheseemedtobesense- less they would not take her life. What about this poor fellow, Hopkins? I seem to have heard some queerstoriesabouthim.” “Hewasagood-heartedmanwhenhewassober, but a perfect fiend when he was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom really went the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such times, and he was capable of anything. From whatIhear,inspiteofallhiswealthandhistitle,he verynearlycameourwayonceortwice. Therewas ascandalabouthisdrenchingadogwithpetroleum and setting it on fire—her ladyship’s dog, to make thematterworse—andthatwasonlyhushedupwith difficulty. Then he threw a decanter at that maid, TheresaWright;therewastroubleaboutthat. Onthe whole, and between ourselves, it will be a brighter housewithouthim. Whatareyoulookingatnow?” Holmes was down on his knees examining with great attention the knots upon the red cord with whichtheladyhadbeensecured. Thenhecarefully scrutinizedthebrokenandfrayedendwhereithad snappedoffwhentheburglarhaddraggeditdown.</s>“When this was pulled down the bell in the kitchenmusthaverungloudly,”heremarked.</s>“Noonecouldhearit. Thekitchenstandsrightat thebackofthehouse.” “How did the burglar know no one would hear it? Howdaredhepullatabell-ropeinthatreckless fashion?” “Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very questionwhichIhaveaskedmyselfagainandagain.</s>There can be no doubt that this fellow must have known the house and its habits. He must have per- fectly understood that the servants would all be in bedatthatcomparativelyearlyhour,andthatnoone couldpossiblyhearabellringinthekitchen. There- forehemusthavebeenincloseleaguewithoneofthe servants. Surely that is evident. But there are eight servants,andallofgoodcharacter.” “Other things being equal,” said Holmes, “one would suspect the one at whose head the master threwadecanter. Andyetthatwouldinvolvetreach- erytowardsthemistresstowhomthiswomanseems devoted. Well, well, the point is a minor one, and when you have Randall you will probably find no difficultyinsecuringhisaccomplice. Thelady’sstory certainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed cor- roboration,byeverydetailwhichweseebeforeus.” HewalkedtotheFrenchwindowandthrewitopen.</s>“Therearenosignshere,butthegroundisironhard, and one would not expect them. I see that these candlesonthemantelpiecehavebeenlighted.” “Yes; it was by their light and that of the lady’s bedroom candle that the burglars saw their way about.” “Andwhatdidtheytake?” “Well,theydidnottakemuch—onlyhalf-a-dozen articlesofplateoffthesideboard. LadyBrackenstall thinksthattheywerethemselvessodisturbedbythe death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack the houseastheywouldotherwisehavedone.” “Nodoubtthatistrue. Andyettheydranksome wine,Iunderstand.” “Tosteadytheirownnerves.” “Exactly. Thesethreeglassesuponthesideboard havebeenuntouched,Isuppose?” “Yes;andthebottlestandsastheyleftit.” “Letuslookatit. Halloa! halloa! whatisthis?” The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged with wine, and one of them contain- ing some dregs of bees-wing. The bottle stood near them,two-thirdsfull,andbesideitlayalong,deeply- stained cork. Its appearance and the dust upon thebottleshowedthatitwasnocommonvintagewhich themurderershadenjoyed.</s>A change had come over Holmes’s manner. He had lost his listless expression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his keen, deep-set eyes. He raisedthecorkandexamineditminutely.</s>“Howdidtheydrawit?”heasked.</s>Hopkinspointedtoahalf-openeddrawer. Initlay sometablelinenandalargecork-screw.</s>“DidLadyBrackenstallsaythatscrewwasused?” “No;yourememberthatshewassenselessatthe momentwhenthebottlewasopened.” “Quiteso. Asamatteroffactthatscrewwasnot used. Thisbottlewasopenedbyapocket-screw,prob- ablycontainedinaknife,andnotmorethananinch and a half long. If you examine the top of the cork you will observe that the screw was driven in three timesbeforethecorkwasextracted. Ithasneverbeen transfixed. Thislongscrewwouldhavetransfixedit anddrawnitwithasinglepull. Whenyoucatchthis fellowyouwillfindthathehasoneofthesemultiplex knivesinhispossession.” “Excellent!”saidHopkins.</s>“Buttheseglassesdopuzzleme,Iconfess. Lady Brackenstallactuallysawthethreemendrinking,did shenot?” “Yes;shewasclearaboutthat.” “Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said? Andyetyoumustadmitthatthethreeglasses areveryremarkable,Hopkins. What,youseenothing remarkable! Well, well, let it pass. Perhaps when a manhasspecialknowledgeandspecialpowerslike myownitratherencourageshimtoseekacomplex explanationwhenasimpleroneisathand. Ofcourse, itmustbeamerechanceabouttheglasses. Well,good morning, Hopkins. I don’t see that I can be of any use to you, and you appear to have your case very clear. YouwillletmeknowwhenRandallisarrested, and any further developments which may occur. I trustthatIshallsoonhavetocongratulateyouupon asuccessfulconclusion. Come, Watson, Ifancythat wemayemployourselvesmoreprofitablyathome.” DuringourreturnjourneyIcouldseebyHolmes’s facethathewasmuchpuzzledbysomethingwhich he had observed. Every now and then, by an effort, hewouldthrowofftheimpressionandtalkasifthe matter were clear, but then his doubts would settle down upon him again, and his knitted brows and abstracted eyes would show that his thoughts had gonebackoncemoretothegreatdining-roomofthe Abbey Grange in which this midnight tragedy had been enacted. At last, by a sudden impulse, just as ourtrainwascrawlingoutofasuburbanstation,he sprang on to the platform and pulled me out after him.</s>“Excuse me, my dear fellow,” said he, as we watchedtherearcarriagesofourtraindisappearing round a curve; “I am sorry to make you the victim ofwhatmayseemamerewhim,butonmylife,Wat- son, I simply can’t leave that case in this condition.</s>Every instinct that I possess cries out against it. It’s wrong—it’sallwrong—I’llswearthatit’swrong. And yetthelady’sstorywascomplete,themaid’scorrobo- rationwassufficient,thedetailwasfairlyexact. What have I to put against that? Three wine-glasses, that is all. But if I had not taken things for granted, if I had examined everything with care which I would haveshownhadweapproachedthecasedenovoand hadnocut-and-driedstorytowarpmymind,would Inotthenhavefoundsomethingmoredefinitetogo upon? Of course I should. Sit down on this bench, Watson, until a train for Chislehurst arrives, and al- lowmetolaytheevidencebeforeyou,imploringyou in the first instance to dismiss from your mind the idea that anything which the maid or her mistress may have said must necessarily be true. The lady’s charmingpersonalitymustnotbepermittedtowarp ourjudgment.</s>“Surelytherearedetailsinherstorywhich,ifwe looked at it in cold blood, would excite our suspi- cion. These burglars made a considerable haul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of them andoftheirappearancewasinthepapers,andwould naturally occur to anyone who wished to invent a storyinwhichimaginaryrobbersshouldplayapart.</s>As a matter of fact, burglars who have done a good stroke of business are, as a rule, only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet without em- barkingonanotherperilousundertaking. Again,itis unusual for burglars to operate at so early an hour; it is unusual for burglars to strike a lady to prevent herscreaming,sinceonewouldimaginethatwasthe surewaytomakeherscream;itisunusualforthem tocommitmurderwhentheirnumbersaresufficient to overpower one man; it is unusual for them to be content with a limited plunder when there is much morewithintheirreach;andfinallyIshouldsaythat it was very unusual for such men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all these unusuals strike you, Watson?” “Theircumulativeeffectiscertainlyconsiderable, and yet each of them is quite possible in itself. Themost unusual thing of all, as it seems to me, is that theladyshouldbetiedtothechair.” “Well,Iamnotsoclearaboutthat,Watson;forit isevidentthattheymusteitherkillherorelsesecure herinsuchawaythatshecouldnotgiveimmediate notice of their escape. But at any rate I have shown, haveInot,thatthereisacertainelementofimproba- bilityaboutthelady’sstory? Andnowonthetopof thiscomestheincidentofthewine-glasses.” “Whataboutthewine-glasses?” “Canyouseetheminyourmind’seye?” “Iseethemclearly.” “We are told that three men drank from them.</s>Doesthatstrikeyouaslikely?” “Whynot? Therewaswineineachglass.” “Exactly; but there was bees-wing only in one glass. You must have noticed that fact. What does thatsuggesttoyourmind?” “Thelastglassfilledwouldbemostlikelytocon- tainbees-wing.” “Notatall. Thebottlewasfullofit,anditisincon- ceivablethatthefirsttwoglasseswereclearandthe thirdheavilychargedwithit. Therearetwopossible explanations,andonlytwo. Oneisthatafterthesec- ondglasswasfilledthebottlewasviolentlyagitated, and so the third glass received the bees-wing. That doesnotappearprobable. No,no;IamsurethatIam right.” “What,then,doyousuppose?” “That only two glasses were used, and that the dregsofbothwerepouredintoathirdglass,soasto givethefalseimpressionthatthreepeoplehadbeen here. In that way all the bees-wing would be in the lastglass,woulditnot? Yes,Iamconvincedthatthis is so. But if I have hit upon the true explanation of this one small phenomenon, then in an instant the caserisesfromthecommonplacetotheexceedingly remarkable,foritcanonlymeanthatLadyBracken- stall and her maid have deliberately lied to us, that not one word of their story is to be believed, that they have some very strong reason for covering the realcriminal,andthatwemustconstructourcasefor ourselves without any help from them. That is the missionwhichnowliesbeforeus,andhere,Watson, istheChislehursttrain.” The household of the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our return, but Sherlock Holmes, find- ing that Stanley Hopkins had gone off to report to head-quarters, took possession of the dining-room, lockedthedoorupontheinside,anddevotedhimself for two hours to one of those minute and laborious investigationswhichformedthesolidbasisonwhich hisbrilliantedificesofdeductionwerereared. Seated in a corner like an interested student who observes thedemonstrationofhisprofessor,Ifollowedevery stepofthatremarkableresearch. Thewindow,thecur- tains,thecarpet,thechair,therope—eachinturnwas minutelyexaminedanddulypondered. Thebodyof the unfortunate baronet had been removed, but all elseremainedaswehadseenitinthemorning. Then, to my astonishment, Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece. Far above his head hung the fewinchesofredcordwhichwerestillattachedtothe wire. Foralongtimehegazedupwardatit,andthen in an attempt to get nearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket on the wall. This brought his hand within a few inches of the broken end of the rope, but it was not this so much as the bracket itself which seemed to engage his attention. Finally hesprangdownwithanejaculationofsatisfaction.</s>“It’sallright,Watson,”saidhe. “Wehavegotour case—one of the most remarkable in our collection.</s>But,dearme,howslow-wittedIhavebeen,andhow nearlyIhavecommittedtheblunderofmylifetime! Now,Ithinkthatwithafewmissinglinksmychain isalmostcomplete.” “Youhavegotyourmen?” “Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person. Strong as a lion—witness the blow that bent that poker. Six foot three in height, activeasasquirrel,dexterouswithhisfingers;finally, remarkably quick-witted, for this whole ingenious storyisofhisconcoction. Yes,Watson,wehavecome uponthehandiworkofaveryremarkableindividual.</s>Andyetinthatbell-ropehehasgivenusacluewhich shouldnothaveleftusadoubt.” “Wherewastheclue?” “Well,ifyouweretopulldownabell-rope,Wat- son,wherewouldyouexpectittobreak? Surelyatthe spotwhereitisattachedtothewire. Whyshouldit breakthreeinchesfromthetopasthisonehasdone?” “Becauseitisfrayedthere?” “Exactly. This end, which we can examine, is frayed. He was cunning enough to do that with his knife. Buttheotherendisnotfrayed. Youcouldnot observe that from here, but if you were on theman- telpieceyouwouldseethatitiscutcleanoffwithout any mark of fraying whatever. You can reconstruct whatoccurred. Themanneededtherope. Hewould nottearitdownforfearofgivingthealarmbyring- ing the bell. What did he do? He sprang up on the mantelpiece, could not quite reach it, put his kneeon the bracket—you will see the impression in the dust—and so got his knife to bear upon the cord. I couldnotreachtheplacebyatleastthreeinches,from whichIinferthatheisatleastthreeinchesabigger man than I. Look at that mark upon the seat of the oakenchair! Whatisit?” “Blood.” “Undoubtedly it is blood. This alone puts the lady’s story out of court. If she were seated on the chairwhenthecrimewasdone,howcomesthatmark? No,no;shewasplacedinthechairafterthedeathof her husband. I’ll wager that the black dress shows a corresponding mark to this. We have not yet met ourWaterloo,Watson,butthisisourMarengo,forit beginsindefeatandendsinvictory. Ishouldlikenow tohaveafewwordswiththenurseTheresa. Wemust be wary for awhile, if we are to get the information whichwewant.” She was an interesting person, this stern Aus- tralian nurse. Taciturn, suspicious, ungracious, it tooksometimebeforeHolmes’spleasantmannerand frankacceptanceofallthatshesaidthawedherinto a corresponding amiability. She did not attempt to concealherhatredforherlateemployer.</s>“Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me. Iheardhimcallmymistressaname,andItold himthathewouldnotdaretospeaksoifherbrother had been there. Then it was that he threw it at me.</s>Hemighthavethrownadozenifhehadbutleftmy bonnybirdalone. Hewasforeverilltreatingher,and she too proud to complain. She will not even tell meallthathehasdonetoher. Shenevertoldmeof those marks on her arm that you saw this morning, butIknowverywellthattheycomefromastabwith a hat-pin. The sly fiend—Heaven forgive me that I should speak of him so, now that he is dead, but a fiendhewasifeveronewalkedtheearth. Hewasall honeywhenfirstwemethim,onlyeighteenmonths ago,andwebothfeelasifitwereeighteenyears. She hadonlyjustarrivedinLondon. Yes,itwasherfirst voyage—she had never been from home before. He won her with his title and his money and his false Londonways. Ifshemadeamistakeshehaspaidfor it, if ever a woman did. What month did we meet him? Well,Itellyouitwasjustafterwearrived. We arrivedinJune,anditwasJuly. Theyweremarriedin Januaryoflastyear. Yes,sheisdowninthemorning- roomagain,andIhavenodoubtshewillseeyou,but you must not ask too much of her, for she has gone throughallthatfleshandbloodwillstand.” Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but looked brighter than before. The maid hadenteredwithus,andbeganoncemoretofoment thebruiseuponhermistress’sbrow.</s>“I hope,” said the lady, “that you have not come tocross-examinemeagain?” “No,”Holmesanswered,inhisgentlestvoice,“I will not cause you any unnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall,andmywholedesireistomakethings easyforyou,forIamconvincedthatyouareamuch- triedwoman. Ifyouwilltreatmeasafriendandtrust meyoumayfindthatIwilljustifyyourtrust.” “Whatdoyouwantmetodo?” “Totellmethetruth.” “Mr.Holmes!” “No,no,LadyBrackenstall,itisnouse. Youmay have heard of any little reputation which I possess.</s>I will stake it all on the fact that your story is an absolutefabrication.” Mistress and maid were both staring at Holmes withpalefacesandfrightenedeyes.</s>“Youareanimpudentfellow!”criedTheresa. “Do youmeantosaythatmymistresshastoldalie?” Holmesrosefromhischair.</s>“Haveyounothingtotellme?” “Ihavetoldyoueverything.” “Think once more, Lady Brackenstall. Would it notbebettertobefrank?” Foraninstanttherewashesitationinherbeautiful face. Thensomenewstrongthoughtcausedittoset likeamask.</s>“IhavetoldyouallIknow.” Holmestookhishatandshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“Iamsorry,”hesaid,andwithoutanotherwordwe lefttheroomandthehouse. Therewasapondinthe park,andtothismyfriendledtheway. Itwasfrozen over,butasingleholewasleftfortheconvenienceof asolitaryswan. Holmesgazedatitandthenpassed ontothelodgegate. Therehescribbledashortnote forStanleyHopkinsandleftitwiththelodge-keeper.</s>“It may be a hit or it may be a miss, but we are bound to do something for friend Hopkins, just to justify this second visit,” said he. “I will not quite take him into my confidence yet. I think our next sceneofoperationsmustbetheshippingofficeofthe Adelaide-Southamptonline,whichstandsattheend of Pall Mall, if I remember right. There is a second lineofsteamerswhichconnectSouthAustraliawith England,butwewilldrawthelargercoverfirst.” Holmes’scardsentintothemanagerensuredin- stantattention,andhewasnotlonginacquiringalltheinformationwhichheneeded. InJuneof’95only oneoftheirlinehadreachedahomeport. Itwasthe Rock of Gibraltar, their largest and best boat. A ref- erencetothepassengerlistshowedthatMissFraser ofAdelaide,withhermaid,hadmadethevoyagein her. TheboatwasnowonherwaytoAustralia,some- where to the south of the Suez Canal. Her officers werethesameasin’95,withoneexception. Thefirst officer,Mr.JackCroker,hadbeenmadeacaptainand was to take charge of their new ship, the Bass Rock, sailingintwodays’timefromSouthampton. Helived atSydenham,buthewaslikelytobeinthatmorning forinstructions,ifwecaredtowaitforhim.</s>No; Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to know more about his record and character.</s>Hisrecordwasmagnificent. Therewasnotanoffi- cer in the fleet to touch him. As to his character, he wasreliableonduty,butawild,desperatefellowoff thedeckofhisship,hot-headed,excitable,butloyal, honest, and kind-hearted. That was the pith of the informationwithwhichHolmeslefttheofficeofthe Adelaide-Southamptoncompany. Thencehedroveto Scotland Yard, but instead of entering he sat in his cab with his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought. FinallyhedroveroundtotheCharingCross telegraphoffice,sentoffamessage,andthen,atlast, wemadeforBakerStreetoncemore.</s>“No, Icouldn’tdo it, Watson,”said he, as we re- enteredourroom. “Oncethatwarrantwasmadeout nothing on earth would save him. Once or twice in mycareerIfeel thatI have donemore realharmby mydiscoveryofthecriminalthaneverhehaddone byhiscrime. Ihavelearnedcautionnow, andIhad ratherplaytrickswiththelawofEnglandthanwith myownconscience. Letusknowalittlemorebefore weact.” BeforeeveningwehadavisitfromInspectorStan- ley Hopkins. Things were not going very well with him.</s>“I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I reallydosometimesthinkthatyouhavepowersthat arenothuman. Now,howonearthcouldyouknow thatthestolensilverwasatthebottomofthatpond?” “Ididn’tknowit.” “Butyoutoldmetoexamineit.” “Yougotit,then?” “Yes,Igotit.” “IamverygladifIhavehelpedyou.” “Butyouhaven’thelpedme. Youhavemadethe affair far more difficult. What sort of burglars are theywhostealsilverandthenthrowitintothenear- estpond?” “Itwascertainlyrathereccentricbehaviour. Iwas merely going on the idea that if the silver had been taken by persons who did not want it, who merely tookitforablindasitwere,thentheywouldnaturally beanxioustogetridofit.” “Butwhyshouldsuchanideacrossyourmind?” “Well,Ithoughtitwaspossible. Whentheycame outthroughtheFrenchwindowtherewasthepond, withonetemptinglittleholeintheice,rightinfront oftheirnoses. Couldtherebeabetterhiding-place?” “Ah,ahiding-place—thatisbetter!”criedStanley Hopkins. “Yes, yes, I see it all now! It was early, there were folk upon the roads, they were afraid of beingseenwiththesilver,sotheysankitinthepond, intending to return for it when the coast was clear.</s>Excellent,Mr.Holmes—thatisbetterthanyouridea ofablind.” “Quite so; you have got an admirable theory. I havenodoubtthatmyownideaswerequitewild,but youmustadmitthattheyhaveendedindiscovering thesilver.” “Yes,sir,yes. Itwasallyourdoing. ButIhavehad abadset-back.” “Aset-back?” “Yes,Mr.Holmes. TheRandallgangwerearrested inNewYorkthismorning.” “Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather againstyourtheorythattheycommittedamurderin Kentlastnight.” “Itisfatal,Mr.Holmes,absolutelyfatal. Still,there are other gangs of three besides the Randalls, or it maybesomenewgangofwhichthepolicehavenever heard.” “Quite so; it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?” “Yes, Mr. Holmes; there is no rest for me until I havegottothebottomofthebusiness. Isupposeyou havenohinttogiveme?” “Ihavegivenyouone.” “Which?” “Well,Isuggestedablind.” “Butwhy,Mr.Holmes,why?” “Ah,that’sthequestion,ofcourse. ButIcommend theideatoyourmind. Youmightpossiblyfindthat therewassomethinginit. Youwon’tstopfordinner? Well,good-bye,andletusknowhowyougeton.”Dinner was over and the table cleared before Holmes alluded to the matter again. He had lit his pipeandheldhisslipperedfeettothecheerfulblaze ofthefire. Suddenlyhelookedathiswatch.</s>“Iexpectdevelopments,Watson.” “When?” “Now—within a few minutes. I dare say you thoughtIactedratherbadlytoStanleyHopkinsjust now?” “Itrustyourjudgment.” “Averysensiblereply,Watson. Youmustlookat itthisway: whatIknowisunofficial;whatheknows isofficial. Ihavetherighttoprivatejudgment,buthe hasnone. Hemustdiscloseall,orheisatraitortohis service. InadoubtfulcaseIwouldnotputhiminso painful a position, and so I reserve my information untilmyownmindisclearuponthematter.” “Butwhenwillthatbe?” “The time has come. You will now be present at thelastsceneofaremarkablelittledrama.” Therewasasounduponthestairs,andourdoor was opened to admit as fine a specimen of man- hood as ever passed through it. He was a very tall young man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed, with a skin which had been burned by tropical suns, and a springy step which showed that the huge frame wasasactiveasitwasstrong. Heclosedthedoorbe- hindhim,andthenhestoodwithclenchedhandsand heaving breast, choking down some overmastering emotion.</s>“Sitdown,CaptainCroker. Yougotmytelegram?” Our visitor sank into an arm-chair and looked fromonetotheotherofuswithquestioningeyes.</s>“Igotyourtelegram,andIcameatthehouryou said. I heard that you had been down to the office.</s>Therewasnogettingawayfromyou. Let’shearthe worst. Whatareyougoingtodowithme? Arrestme? Speakout,man! Youcan’tsitthereandplaywithme likeacatwithamouse.” “Give him a cigar,” said Holmes. “Bite on that, CaptainCroker,anddon’tletyournervesrunaway withyou. IshouldnotsitheresmokingwithyouifI thoughtthatyouwereacommoncriminal,youmay be sure of that. Be frank with me, and we may do somegood. Playtrickswithme,andI’llcrushyou.” “Whatdoyouwishmetodo?” “To give me a true account of all that happened attheAbbeyGrangelastnight—atrueaccount,mind you, with nothing added and nothing taken off. I knowsomuchalreadythatifyougooneinchoffthe straightI’llblowthispolicewhistlefrommywindow andtheaffairgoesoutofmyhandsforever.” Thesailorthoughtforalittle. Thenhestruckhis legwithhisgreat,sun-burnedhand.</s>“I’llchanceit,”hecried. “Ibelieveyouareaman ofyourword,andawhiteman,andI’lltellyouthe wholestory. ButonethingIwillsayfirst. SofarasI amconcernedIregretnothingandIfearnothing,and Iwoulddoitallagainandbeproudofthejob. Curse the beast, if he had as many lives as a cat he would owe them all to me! But it’s the lady, Mary—Mary Fraser—forneverwillIcallherbythataccursedname.</s>WhenIthinkofgettingherintotrouble,Iwhowould give my life just to bring one smile to her dear face, it’sthatthatturnsmysoulintowater. Andyet—and yet—whatlesscouldIdo? I’lltellyoumystory,gen- tlemen,andthenI’llaskyouasmantomanwhatless couldIdo.</s>“I must go back a bit. You seem to know every- thing,soIexpectthatyouknowthatImetherwhen shewasapassengerandIwasfirstofficeroftheRock ofGibraltar. FromthefirstdayImethershewasthe onlywomantome. EverydayofthatvoyageIloved hermore,andmanyatimesincehaveIkneeleddown in the darkness of the night watch and kissed the deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trodit. Shewasneverengagedtome. Shetreatedme as fairly as ever a woman treated a man. I have no complainttomake. Itwasallloveonmyside,andall goodcomradeshipandfriendshiponhers. Whenwe partedshewasafreewoman,butIcouldneveragain beafreeman.</s>“Next time I came back from sea I heard of her marriage. Well,whyshouldn’tshemarrywhomshe liked? Titleandmoney—whocouldcarrythembetter than she? She was born for all that is beautiful and dainty. I didn’t grieve over her marriage. I was not suchaselfishhoundasthat. Ijustrejoicedthatgood luckhadcomeherway,andthatshehadnotthrown herselfawayonapennilesssailor. That’showIloved MaryFraser.</s>“Well, I never thought to see her again; but last voyageIwaspromoted,andthenewboatwasnotyet launched,soIhadtowaitforacoupleofmonthswith my people at Sydenham. One day out in a country lane I met Theresa Wright, her old maid. She told meabouther,abouthim,abouteverything. Itellyou, gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad. This drunken hound, that he should dare to raise his hand to her whosebootshewasnotworthytolick! ImetTheresaagain. ThenImetMaryherself—andmetheragain.</s>Thenshewouldmeetmenomore. Buttheotherday IhadanoticethatIwastostartonmyvoyagewithin a week, and I determined that I would see her once before I left. Theresa was always my friend, for she lovedMaryandhatedthisvillainalmostasmuchasI did. FromherIlearnedthewaysofthehouse. Mary used to sit up reading in her own little room down- stairs. I crept round there last night and scratched at the window. At first she would not open to me, but in her heart I know that now she loves me, and shecouldnotleavemeinthefrostynight. Shewhis- peredtometocomeroundtothebigfrontwindow, and I found it open before me so as to let me into the dining-room. Again I heard from her own lips things that made my blood boil, and again I cursed this brute who mishandled the woman that I loved.</s>Well,gentlemen,Iwasstandingwithherjustinside thewindow,inallinnocence,asHeavenismyjudge, whenherushedlikeamadmanintotheroom,called herthevilestnamethatamancouldusetoawoman, andweltedheracrossthefacewiththestickhehad in his hand. I had sprung for the poker, and it was a fair fight between us. See here on my arm where his first blow fell. Then it was my turn, and I went throughhimasifhehadbeenarottenpumpkin. Do youthinkIwassorry? NotI!Itwashislifeormine, butfarmorethanthatitwashislifeorhers,forhow couldIleaveherinthepowerofthismadman? That washowIkilledhim. WasIwrong? Well,then,what wouldeitherofyougentlemenhavedoneifyouhad beeninmyposition? “Shehadscreamedwhenhestruckher,andthat brought old Theresa down from the room above.</s>There was a bottle of wine on the sideboard, and I opened it and poured a little between Mary’s lips, forshewashalfdeadwiththeshock. ThenItooka drop myself. Theresa was as cool as ice, and it was her plot as much as mine. We must make it appear that burglars had done the thing. Theresa kept on repeatingourstorytohermistress,whileIswarmed up and cut the rope of the bell. Then I lashed her in her chair, and frayed out the end of the rope to makeitlooknatural,elsetheywouldwonderhowin theworldaburglarcouldhavegotuptheretocutit.</s>ThenIgatheredupafewplatesandpotsofsilver,to carryouttheideaofarobbery,andthereIleftthem with orders to give the alarm when I had a quarter ofanhour’sstart. Idroppedthesilverintothepond andmadeoffforSydenham,feelingthatforoncein my life I had done a real good night’s work. And that’sthetruthandthewholetruth,Mr.Holmes,ifit costsmemyneck.” Holmessmokedforsometimeinsilence. Thenhe crossedtheroomandshookourvisitorbythehand.</s>“That’swhatIthink,”saidhe. “Iknowthatevery wordistrue,foryouhavehardlysaidawordwhichI didnotknow. Noonebutanacrobatorasailorcould have got up to that bell-rope from the bracket, and no one but a sailor could have made the knots with whichthecordwasfastenedtothechair. Onlyonce hadthisladybeenbroughtintocontactwithsailors, and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own class of life, since she was trying hard to shieldhim andso showing thatshe lovedhim. You seehoweasyitwasformetolaymyhandsuponyou whenonceIhadstartedupontherighttrail.” “I thought the police never could have seen throughourdodge.” “Andthepolicehaven’t;norwillthey,tothebest ofmybelief. Now,lookhere,CaptainCroker,thisis a very serious matter, though I am willing to admit thatyouactedunderthemostextremeprovocationto whichanymancouldbesubjected. Iamnotsurethat in defence of your own life your action will not be pronouncedlegitimate. However,thatisforaBritish jurytodecide. MeanwhileIhavesomuchsympathy for you that if you choose to disappear in the next twenty-fourhoursIwillpromiseyouthatnoonewill hinderyou.” “Andthenitwillallcomeout?” “Certainlyitwillcomeout.” Thesailorflushedwithanger.</s>“What sort of proposal is that to make a man? I knowenoughoflawtounderstandthatMarywould behadasaccomplice. DoyouthinkIwouldleaveher alone to face the music while I slunk away? No, sir; let them do their worst upon me, but for Heaven’s sake,Mr.Holmes,findsomewayofkeepingmypoor Maryoutofthecourts.” Holmesforasecondtimeheldouthishandtothe sailor.</s>“I was only testing you, and you ring true every time. Well,itisagreatresponsibilitythatItakeupon myself, but I have given Hopkins an excellent hint, andifhecan’tavailhimselfofitIcandonomore. See here,CaptainCroker,we’lldothisindueformoflaw.</s>You are the prisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, andInevermetamanwhowasmoreeminentlyfitted torepresentone. Iamthejudge. Now,gentlemanof the jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find theprisonerguiltyornotguilty?” “Notguilty,mylord,”saidI.“Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Croker. Solongasthelawdoesnotfindsomeother victimyouaresafefromme. Comebacktothislady inayear,andmayherfutureandyoursjustifyusin thejudgmentwhichwehavepronouncedthisnight.”hadintended“TheAdventureoftheAbbey Grange” to be the last of those exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, which I I should ever communicate to the public.</s>This resolution of mine was not due to any lack of material,sinceIhavenotesofmanyhundredsofcases to which I have never alluded, nor was it caused by anywaninginterestonthepartofmyreadersinthe singular personality and unique methods of this re- markableman. Therealreasonlayinthereluctance whichMr.Holmeshasshowntothecontinuedpubli- cationofhisexperiences. Solongashewasinactual professionalpracticetherecordsofhissuccesseswere ofsomepracticalvaluetohim;butsincehehasdef- initely retired from London and betaken himself to studyandbee-farmingontheSussexDowns,notori- etyhasbecomehatefultohim,andhehasperempto- rilyrequestedthathiswishesinthismattershouldbe strictlyobserved. Itwasonlyuponmyrepresenting to him that I had given a promise that “The Adven- tureoftheSecondStain”shouldbepublishedwhen the times were ripe, and pointing out to him that it is only appropriate that this long series of episodes shouldculminateinthemostimportantinternational case which he has ever been called upon to handle, thatIatlastsucceededinobtaininghisconsentthata carefully-guarded account of the incident should at lastbelaidbeforethepublic. IfintellingthestoryI seemtobesomewhatvagueincertaindetailsthepub- lic will readily understand that there is an excellent reasonformyreticence.</s>It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, thatshallbenameless,thatupononeTuesdaymorn- ing in autumn we found two visitors of European famewithinthewallsofourhumbleroominBaker Street. Theone,austere,high-nosed,eagle-eyed,and dominant, was none other than the illustrious Lord Bellinger, twice Premier of Britain. The other, dark, clear-cut,andelegant,hardlyyetofmiddleage,and endowedwitheverybeautyofbodyandofmind,was theRightHonourableTrelawneyHope,Secretaryfor EuropeanAffairs,andthemostrisingstatesmaninthe country. Theysatsidebysideuponourpaper-littered settee,anditwaseasytoseefromtheirwornandanx- ious faces that it was business of the most pressing importancewhichhadbroughtthem. ThePremier’s thin,blue-veinedhandswereclaspedtightlyoverthe ivory head of his umbrella, and his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me. The Eu- ropeanSecretarypullednervouslyathismoustache andfidgetedwiththesealsofhiswatch-chain.</s>“WhenIdiscoveredmyloss,Mr.Holmes,which wasateighto’clockthismorning,Iatonceinformed the Prime Minister. It was at his suggestion that we havebothcometoyou.” “Haveyouinformedthepolice?” “No,sir,”saidthePrimeMinister,withthequick, decisivemannerforwhichhewasfamous. “Wehave not done so, nor is it possible that we should do so.</s>To inform the police must, in the long run, mean to informthepublic. Thisiswhatweparticularlydesire toavoid.” “Andwhy,sir?” “Becausethedocumentinquestionisofsuchim- menseimportancethatitspublicationmightveryeas- ily—Imightalmostsayprobably—leadtoEuropean complications of the utmost moment. It is not too much to say that peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its recovery can be attended with the utmostsecrecy,thenitmayaswellnotberecovered atall,forallthatisaimedatbythosewhohavetaken itisthatitscontentsshouldbegenerallyknown.” “I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much obliged if you would tell me ex- actly the circumstances under which this document disappeared.” “That can be done in a very few words, Mr.</s>Holmes. The letter—for it was a letter from a for- eignpotentate—wasreceivedsixdaysago. Itwasof such importance that I have never left it in my safe, butIhavetakenitacrosseacheveningtomyhouse in Whitehall Terrace, and kept it in my bedroom in a locked despatch-box. It was there last night. Of that I am certain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing for dinner, and saw the document in- side. This morning it was gone. The despatch-box had stood beside the glass upon my dressing-table allnight. Iamalightsleeper,andsoismywife. We are both prepared to swear that no one could have enteredtheroomduringthenight. AndyetIrepeat thatthepaperisgone.” “Whattimedidyoudine?” “Half-pastseven.” “Howlongwasitbeforeyouwenttobed?” “My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up forher. Itwashalf-pastelevenbeforewewenttoour room.” “Then for four hours the despatch-box had lain unguarded?” “Nooneiseverpermittedtoenterthatroomsave thehousemaidinthemorning,andmyvalet,ormy wife’smaid,duringtherestoftheday. Theyareboth trustyservantswhohavebeenwithusforsometime.Besides,neitherofthemcouldpossiblyhaveknown thattherewasanythingmorevaluablethantheordi- narydepartmentalpapersinmydespatch-box.” “Whodidknowoftheexistenceofthatletter?” “Nooneinthehouse.” “Surelyyourwifeknew?” “No, sir; I had said nothing to my wife until I missedthepaperthismorning.” ThePremiernoddedapprovingly.</s>“Ihavelongknown,sir,howhighisyoursenseof publicduty,”saidhe. “Iamconvincedthatinthecase of a secret of this importance it would rise superior tothemostintimatedomesticties.” TheEuropeanSecretarybowed.</s>“You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morningIhaveneverbreathedonewordtomywife uponthismatter.” “Couldshehaveguessed?” “No, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed—norcouldanyonehaveguessed.” “Haveyoulostanydocumentsbefore?” “No,sir.” “Who is there in England who did know of the existenceofthisletter?” “Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday; but the pledge of secrecy which at- tends every Cabinet meeting was increased by the solemnwarningwhichwasgivenbythePrimeMinis- ter. Goodheavens,tothinkthatwithinafewhoursI shouldmyselfhavelostit!”Hishandsomefacewas distortedwithaspasmofdespair,andhishandstore at his hair. For a moment we caught a glimpse of thenaturalman,impulsive,ardent,keenlysensitive.</s>Thenextthearistocraticmaskwasreplaced,andthe gentlevoicehadreturned. “Besidesthemembersof the Cabinet there are two, or possibly three, depart- mentalofficialswhoknowoftheletter. Nooneelse inEngland,Mr.Holmes,Iassureyou.” “Butabroad?” “Ibelievethatnooneabroadhasseenitsavethe manwhowroteit. IamwellconvincedthathisMin- isters—thattheusualofficialchannelshavenotbeen employed.” Holmesconsideredforsomelittletime.</s>“Now,sir,Imustaskyoumoreparticularlywhat thisdocumentis,andwhyitsdisappearanceshould havesuchmomentousconsequences?” Thetwostatesmenexchangedaquickglanceand thePremier’sshaggyeyebrowsgatheredinafrown.</s>“Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of palebluecolour. Thereisasealofredwaxstamped with a crouching lion. It is addressed in large, bold handwritingto—” “Ifear,sir,”saidHolmes,“that,interestingandin- deedessentialasthesedetailsare,myinquiriesmust gomoretotherootofthings. Whatwastheletter?” “That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fear that I cannot tell you, nor do I see that it is necessary. If by the aid of the powers which you aresaidtopossessyoucanfindsuchanenvelopeas Idescribewithitsenclosure,youwillhavedeserved wellofyourcountry,andearnedanyrewardwhichit liesinourpowertobestow.” SherlockHolmesrosewithasmile.</s>“You are two of the most busy men in the coun- try,”saidhe,“andinmyownsmallwayIhavealsoa goodmanycallsuponme. IregretexceedinglythatI cannothelpyouinthismatter,andanycontinuation ofthisinterviewwouldbeawasteoftime.” The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fiercegleamofhisdeep-seteyesbeforewhichaCab- inet has cowered. “I am not accustomed, sir—” he began,butmasteredhisangerandresumedhisseat.</s>Foraminuteormoreweallsatinsilence. Thenthe oldstatesmanshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right, and it is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we give you our entire confidence.” “I agree with you, sir,” said the younger states- man.</s>“Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honourandthatofyourcolleague,Dr.Watson. Imay appealtoyourpatriotismalso,forIcouldnotimag- ineagreatermisfortuneforthecountrythanthatthis affairshouldcomeout.” “Youmaysafelytrustus.” “The letter, then, is from a certain foreign poten- tate who has been ruffled by some recent Colonial developments of this country. It has been written hurriedly and upon his own responsibility entirely.</s>InquirieshaveshownthathisMinistersknownothing of the matter. At the same time it is couched in so unfortunateamanner,andcertainphrasesinitareof soprovocativeacharacter,thatitspublicationwould undoubtedlyleadtoamostdangerousstateoffeeling in this country. There would be such a ferment, sir,that I do not hesitate to say that within a week of the publication of that letter this country would be involvedinagreatwar.” Holmes wrote a name upon a slip of paper and handedittothePremier.</s>“Exactly. It was he. And it is this letter—this letterwhichmaywellmeantheexpenditureofathou- sand millions and the lives of a hundred thousand men—which has become lost in this unaccountable fashion.” “Haveyouinformedthesender?” “Yes,sir,aciphertelegramhasbeendespatched.” “Perhapshedesiresthepublicationoftheletter.” “No,sir,wehavestrongreasontobelievethathe alreadyunderstandsthathehasactedinanindiscreet andhot-headedmanner. Itwouldbeagreaterblow tohimandtohiscountrythantousifthisletterwere tocomeout.” “If this is so, whose interest is it that the letter shouldcomeout? Whyshouldanyonedesiretosteal itortopublishit?” “There,Mr.Holmes,youtakemeintoregionsof high international politics. But if you consider the Europeansituationyouwillhavenodifficultyinper- ceivingthemotive. ThewholeofEuropeisanarmed camp. There is a double league which makes a fair balance of military power. Great Britain holds the scales. IfBritainweredrivenintowarwithonecon- federacy,itwouldassurethesupremacyoftheother confederacy, whether they joined in the war or not.</s>Doyoufollow?” “Veryclearly. Itisthentheinterestoftheenemies ofthispotentatetosecureandpublishthisletter,so astomakeabreachbetweenhiscountryandours?” “Yes,sir.” “Andtowhomwouldthisdocumentbesentifit fellintothehandsofanenemy?” “ToanyofthegreatChancelleriesofEurope. Itis probably speeding on its way thither at the present instantasfastassteamcantakeit.” Mr.TrelawneyHopedroppedhisheadonhischest and groaned aloud. The Premier placed his hand kindlyuponhisshoulder.</s>“Itisyourmisfortune,mydearfellow. Noonecan blameyou. Thereisnoprecautionwhichyouhavene- glected. Now,Mr.Holmes,youareinfullpossession ofthefacts. Whatcoursedoyourecommend?” Holmesshookhisheadmournfully.</s>“Youthink,sir,thatunlessthisdocumentisrecov- eredtherewillbewar?” “Ithinkitisveryprobable.” “Then,sir,prepareforwar.” “Thatisahardsaying,Mr.Holmes.” “Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was taken after eleven-thirty at night, since I un- derstand that Mr. Hope and his wife were both in the room from that hour until the loss was found out. It was taken, then, yesterday evening between seven-thirtyandeleven-thirty,probablyneartheear- lierhour,sincewhoevertookitevidentlyknewthat itwasthereandwouldnaturallysecureitasearlyas possible. Now,sir,ifadocumentofthisimportance weretakenatthathour,wherecanitbenow? Noone hasanyreasontoretainit. Ithasbeenpassedrapidly ontothosewhoneedit. Whatchancehavewenowto overtakeoreventotraceit? Itisbeyondourreach.” ThePrimeMinisterrosefromthesettee.</s>“Whatyousayisperfectlylogical,Mr.Holmes. I feelthatthematterisindeedoutofourhands.” “Let us presume, for argument’s sake, that the documentwastakenbythemaidorbythevalet—” “Theyarebotholdandtriedservants.” “I understand you to say that your room is on thesecondfloor,thatthereisnoentrancefromwith- out,andthatfromwithinnoonecouldgoupunob- served. Itmust,then,besomebodyinthehousewho has taken it. To whom would the thief take it? To one of several international spies and secret agents, whosenamesaretolerablyfamiliartome. Thereare three who may be said to be the heads of their pro- fession. I will begin my research by going round and finding if each of them is at his post. If one is missing—especiallyifhehasdisappearedsincelast night—wewillhavesomeindicationastowherethe documenthasgone.” “Whyshouldhebemissing?”askedtheEuropean Secretary. “HewouldtakethelettertoanEmbassyin London,aslikelyasnot.” “I fancy not. These agents work independently, and their relations with the Embassies are often strained.” ThePrimeMinisternoddedhisacquiescence.</s>“I believe you are right, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuable a prize to head-quarters with his own hands. I think that your course of action is an excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope, we cannot neglect allourotherdutiesonaccountofthisonemisfortune.</s>Should there be any fresh developments during thedayweshallcommunicatewithyou,andyouwillno doubtletusknowtheresultsofyourowninquiries.” The two statesmen bowed and walked gravely fromtheroom.</s>When our illustrious visitors had departed Holmeslithispipeinsilence,andsatforsometime lostinthedeepestthought. Ihadopenedthemorning paperandwasimmersedinasensationalcrimewhich had occurred in London the night before, when my friend gave an exclamation, sprang to his feet, and laidhispipedownuponthemantelpiece.</s>“Yes,”saidhe,“thereisnobetterwayofapproach- ing it. The situation is desperate, but not hopeless.</s>Even now, if we could be sure which of them has taken it, it is just possible that it has not yet passed outofhishands. Afterall,itisaquestionofmoney withthesefellows,andIhavetheBritishTreasurybe- hindme. Ifit’sonthemarketI’llbuyit—ifitmeans another penny on the income-tax. It is conceivable that the fellow might hold it back to see what bids come from this side before he tries his luck on the other. Thereareonlythosethreecapableofplaying soboldagame;thereareOberstein,LaRothiere,and EduardoLucas. Iwillseeeachofthem.” Iglancedatmymorningpaper.</s>“IsthatEduardoLucasofGodolphinStreet?” “Yes.” “Youwillnotseehim.” “Whynot?” “Hewasmurderedinhishouselastnight.” Myfriendhassooftenastonishedmeinthecourse ofouradventuresthatitwaswithasenseofexulta- tionthatIrealizedhowcompletelyIhadastonished him. Hestaredinamazement,andthensnatchedthe paperfrommyhands. Thiswastheparagraphwhich Ihadbeenengagedinreadingwhenherosefromhis chair: MurderinWestminster A crime of mysterious character was com- mitted last night at 16, Godolphin Street, one of the old-fashioned and secluded rows of eighteenth-century houses which lie between theriverandtheAbbey,almostintheshadow of the great Tower of the Houses of Parlia- ment. Thissmallbutselectmansionhasbeen inhabited for some years by Mr. Eduardo Lu- cas, well known in society circles both on ac- countofhischarmingpersonalityandbecause he has the well-deserved reputation of being oneofthebestamateurtenorsinthecountry.</s>Mr. Lucas is an unmarried man, thirty-four yearsofage,andhisestablishmentconsistsof Mrs. Pringle, an elderly housekeeper, and of Mitton,hisvalet. Theformerretiresearlyand sleeps at the top of the house. The valet was outfortheevening,visitingafriendatHam- mersmith. Fromteno’clockonwardsMr.Lu- cas had the house to himself. What occurred during that time has not yet transpired, but ataquartertotwelvePolice-constableBarrett, passingalongGodolphinStreet,observedthat the door of No. 16 was ajar. He knocked, but received no answer. Perceiving a light in the front room he advanced into the passage and again knocked, but without reply. He then pushed open the door and entered. The room was in a state of wild disorder, the furniture beingallswepttooneside,andonechairlying onitsbackinthecentre. Besidethischair,and still grasping one of its legs, lay the unfortu- natetenantofthehouse. Hehadbeenstabbed totheheartandmusthavediedinstantly. The knife with which the crime had been commit- tedwasacurvedIndiandagger,pluckeddown fromatrophyofOrientalarmswhichadorned one of the walls. Robbery does not appear to have been the motive of the crime, for there had been no attempt to remove the valuable contentsoftheroom. Mr.EduardoLucaswas so well known and popular that his violent andmysteriousfatewillarousepainfulinter- estandintensesympathyinawide-spreadcir- cleoffriends.</s>“Well, Watson, what do you make of this?” asked Holmes,afteralongpause.</s>“Itisanamazingcoincidence.” “A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whomwehadnamedaspossibleactorsinthisdrama, andhemeetsaviolentdeathduringtheveryhours when we know that that drama was being enacted.</s>Theoddsareenormousagainstitsbeingcoincidence.</s>Nofigurescouldexpressthem. No,mydearWatson, thetwoeventsareconnected—mustbeconnected. It isforustofindtheconnection.” “Butnowtheofficialpolicemustknowall.” “Not at all. They know all they see at Godol- phin Street. They know—and shall know—nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only we know of both events, andcantracetherelationbetweenthem. Thereisone obviouspointwhichwould,inanycase,haveturned mysuspicionsagainstLucas. GodolphinStreet,West- minster,isonlyafewminutes’walkfromWhitehallTerrace. TheothersecretagentswhomIhavenamed liveintheextremeWest-end. Itwaseasier,therefore, forLucasthanfortheotherstoestablishaconnection orreceiveamessagefromtheEuropeanSecretary’s household—asmallthing,andyetwhereeventsare compressed into a few hours it may prove essential.</s>Halloa! whathavewehere?” Mrs. Hudson had appeared with a lady’s card upon her salver. Holmes glanced at it, raised his eyebrows,andhandeditovertome.</s>“Ask Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope if she will be kindenoughtostepup,”saidhe.</s>Amomentlaterourmodestapartment,alreadyso distinguishedthatmorning,wasfurtherhonouredby theentranceofthemostlovelywomaninLondon. I hadoftenheardofthebeautyoftheyoungestdaugh- teroftheDukeofBelminster,butnodescriptionofit, andnocontemplationofcolourlessphotographs,had prepared me for the subtle, delicate charm and the beautifulcolouringofthatexquisitehead. Andyetas wesawitthatautumnmorning,itwasnotitsbeauty whichwouldbethefirstthingtoimpresstheobserver.</s>Thecheekwaslovely,butitwaspaledwithemotion; theeyeswerebright,butitwasthebrightnessoffever; thesensitivemouthwastightanddrawninaneffort afterself-command. Terror—notbeauty—waswhat sprangfirsttotheeyeasourfairvisitorstoodframed foraninstantintheopendoor.</s>“Hasmyhusbandbeenhere,Mr.Holmes?” “Yes,madam,hehasbeenhere.” “Mr.Holmes,IimploreyounottotellhimthatI camehere.”Holmesbowedcoldly,andmotionedthe ladytoachair.</s>“Yourladyshipplacesmeinaverydelicateposi- tion. Ibegthatyouwillsitdownandtellmewhatyou desire;butIfearthatIcannotmakeanyunconditional promise.” She swept across the room and seated herself withherbacktothewindow. Itwasaqueenlypres- ence—tall,graceful,andintenselywomanly.</s>“Mr. Holmes,” she said, and her white-gloved hands clasped and unclasped as she spoke—“I will speak frankly to you in the hope that it may induce youtospeakfranklyinreturn. Thereiscompletecon- fidencebetweenmyhusbandandmeonallmatters save one. That one is politics. On this his lips are sealed. He tells me nothing. Now, I am aware that therewasamostdeplorableoccurrenceinourhouse lastnight. Iknowthatapaperhasdisappeared. But because the matter is political my husband refuses to take me into his complete confidence. Now it is essential—essential,Isay—thatIshouldthoroughly understand it. You are the only other person, save only these politicians, who knows the true facts. I beg you, then, Mr. Holmes, to tell me exactly what has happened and what it will lead to. Tell me all, Mr.Holmes. Letnoregardforyourclient’sinterests keepyousilent,forIassureyouthathisinterests,if hewouldonlyseeit,wouldbebestservedbytaking meintohiscompleteconfidence. Whatwasthispaper whichwasstolen?” “Madam,whatyouaskmeisreallyimpossible.” Shegroanedandsankherfaceinherhands.</s>“You must see that this is so, madam. If your husbandthinksfittokeepyouinthedarkoverthis matter, is it for me, who has only learned the true factsunderthepledgeofprofessionalsecrecy,totell whathehaswithheld? Itisnotfairtoaskit. Itishim whomyoumustask.” “I have asked him. I come to you as a last re- source. Butwithoutyourtellingmeanythingdefinite, Mr.Holmes,youmaydoagreatserviceifyouwould enlightenmeononepoint.” “Whatisit,madam?” “Is my husband’s political career likely to suffer throughthisincident?” “Well,madam,unlessitissetrightitmaycertainly haveaveryunfortunateeffect.” “Ah!” She drew in her breath sharply as one whosedoubtsareresolved.</s>“Onemorequestion,Mr.Holmes. Fromanexpres- sionwhichmyhusbanddroppedinthefirstshockof this disaster I understood that terrible public conse- quencesmightarisefromthelossofthisdocument.” “Ifhesaidso,Icertainlycannotdenyit.” “Ofwhatnaturearethey?” “Nay,madam,thereagainyouaskmemorethan Icanpossiblyanswer.” “ThenIwilltakeupnomoreofyourtime. Icannot blameyou,Mr.Holmes,forhavingrefusedtospeak morefreely,andyouonyoursidewillnot,Iamsure, thinktheworseofmebecauseIdesire,evenagainst hiswill,tosharemyhusband’sanxieties. OncemoreI begthatyouwillsaynothingofmyvisit.”Shelooked backatusfromthedoor,andIhadalastimpression ofthatbeautifulhauntedface,thestartledeyes,and thedrawnmouth. Thenshewasgone.</s>“Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department,” saidHolmes,withasmile,whenthedwindlingfrou- frouofskirtshadendedintheslamofthefrontdoor.“Whatwasthefairlady’sgame? Whatdidshereally want?” “Surelyherownstatementisclearandheranxiety verynatural.” “Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson—her manner,hersuppressedexcitement,herrestlessness, hertenacityinaskingquestions. Rememberthatshe comesofacastewhodonotlightlyshowemotion.” “Shewascertainlymuchmoved.” “Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assured us that it was best for her hus- band that she should know all. What did she mean bythat? Andyoumusthaveobserved,Watson,how shemanoeuvredtohavethelightatherback. Shedid notwishustoreadherexpression.” “Yes;shechosetheonechairintheroom.” “Andyetthemotivesofwomenaresoinscrutable.</s>You remember the woman at Margate whom I sus- pected for the same reason. No powder on her nose—thatprovedtobethecorrectsolution. Howcan youbuildonsuchaquicksand? Theirmosttrivialac- tionmaymeanvolumes,ortheirmostextraordinary conduct may depend upon a hairpin or a curling- tongs. Goodmorning,Watson.” “Youareoff?” “Yes;IwillwileawaythemorningatGodolphin Street with our friends of the regular establishment.</s>WithEduardoLucasliesthesolutionofourproblem, though I must admit that I have not an inkling as to what form it may take. It is a capital mistake to theorizeinadvanceofthefacts. Doyoustayonguard, mygoodWatson, andreceiveanyfreshvisitors. I’ll joinyouatlunchifIamable.” All that day and the next and the next Holmes wasinamoodwhichhisfriendswouldcalltaciturn, and others morose. He ran out and ran in, smoked incessantly, played snatches on his violin, sank into reveries,devouredsandwichesatirregularhours,and hardly answered the casual questions which I put to him. It was evident to me that things were not goingwellwithhimorhisquest. Hewouldsaynoth- ing of the case, and it was from the papers that I learnedtheparticularsoftheinquest,andthearrest withthesubsequentreleaseofJohnMitton,thevalet of the deceased. The coroner’s jury brought in the obvious “Wilful Murder,” but the parties remained asunknownasever. Nomotivewassuggested. The roomwasfullofarticlesofvalue,butnonehadbeen taken. Thedeadman’spapershadnotbeentampered with. Theywerecarefullyexamined,andshowedthat he was a keen student of international politics, an indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and an untiringletter-writer. Hehadbeenonintimateterms withtheleadingpoliticiansofseveralcountries. But nothing sensational was discovered among the doc- umentswhichfilledhisdrawers. Astohisrelations with women, they appeared to have been promis- cuous but superficial. He had many acquaintances amongthem,butfewfriends,andnoonewhomhe loved. His habits were regular, his conduct inoffen- sive. His death was an absolute mystery, and likely toremainso.</s>As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was acounselofdespairasanalternativetoabsolutein- action. But no case could be sustained against him.</s>He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night.</s>Thealibiwascomplete. Itistruethathestartedhome atanhourwhichshouldhavebroughthimtoWest- minster before the time when the crime was discov- ered, but his own explanation that he had walked partofthewayseemedprobableenoughinviewof thefinenessofthenight. Hehadactuallyarrivedat twelveo’clock,andappearedtobeoverwhelmedby theunexpectedtragedy. Hehadalwaysbeenongood termswithhismaster. Severalofthedeadman’spos- sessions—notably a small case of razors—had been foundinthevalet’sboxes,butheexplainedthatthey hadbeenpresentsfromthedeceased,andthehouse- keeperwasabletocorroboratethestory. Mittonhad been in Lucas’s employment for three years. It was noticeablethatLucasdidnottakeMittonontheCon- tinentwithhim. SometimeshevisitedParisforthree monthsonend,butMittonwasleftinchargeofthe GodolphinStreethouse. Astothehousekeeper,she had heard nothing on the night of the crime. If her masterhadavisitorhehadhimselfadmittedhim.</s>So for three mornings the mystery remained, so farasIcouldfollowitinthepapers. IfHolmesknew morehekepthisowncounsel,but,ashetoldmethat InspectorLestradehadtakenhimintohisconfidence in the case, I knew that he was in close touch with every development. Upon the fourth day there ap- pearedalongtelegramfromPariswhichseemedto solvethewholequestion.</s>A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police [said the Daily Telegraph] which raises the veil which hung round the tragicfateofMr.EduardoLucas,whomethis deathbyviolencelastMondaynightatGodol- phin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember that the deceased gentleman was foundstabbedinhisroom,andthatsomesus-picion attached to his valet, but that the case brokedownonanalibi. Yesterdayalady,who hasbeenknownasMme.HenriFournaye,oc- cupying a small villa in the Rue Austerlitz, wasreportedtotheauthoritiesbyherservants asbeinginsane. Anexaminationshowedthat she had indeed developed mania of a danger- ous and permanent form. On inquiry the po- lice have discovered that Mme. Henri Four- nayeonlyreturnedfromajourneytoLondon on Tuesday last, and there is evidence to con- nect her with the crime at Westminster. A comparisonofphotographshasprovedconclu- sively that M. Henri Fournaye and Eduardo Lucas were really one and the same person, and that the deceased had for some reason livedadoublelifeinLondonandParis. Mme.</s>Fournaye,whoisofCreoleorigin,isofanex- tremely excitable nature, and has suffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted to frenzy. It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she committed the terrible crime which has caused such a sen- sation in London. Her movements upon the Mondaynighthavenotyetbeentraced,butit is undoubted that a woman answering to her descriptionattractedmuchattentionatChar- ingCrossStationonTuesdaymorningbythe wildness of her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It is probable, therefore, that the crime was either committed when insane, or that its immediate effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. At present she is unable to give any coherent account of thepast, andthedoctorsholdoutnohopesof the re-establishment of her reason. There is evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye, was seen for some hours on Monday night watching the house in Godol- phinStreet.</s>“Whatdoyouthinkofthat,Holmes?”Ihadreadthe accountaloudtohim,whilehefinishedhisbreakfast.</s>“My dear Watson,” said he, as he rose from the table and paced up and down the room, “you are most long-suffering, but if I have told you nothing inthelastthreedaysitisbecausethereisnothingto tell. EvennowthisreportfromParisdoesnothelpus much.” “Surelyitisfinalasregardstheman’sdeath.” “The man’s death is a mere incident—a trivial episode—incomparisonwithourrealtask,whichis totracethisdocumentandsaveaEuropeancatastro- phe. Onlyoneimportantthinghashappenedinthe lastthreedays,andthatisthatnothinghashappened.</s>IgetreportsalmosthourlyfromtheGovernment,and itiscertainthatnowhereinEuropeisthereanysign oftrouble. Now,ifthisletterwereloose—no,itcan’t beloose—butifitisn’tloose, wherecanitbe? Who hasit? Whyisitheldback? That’sthequestionthat beats in my brain like a hammer. Was it, indeed, a coincidencethatLucasshouldmeethisdeathonthe nightwhentheletterdisappeared? Didtheletterever reach him? If so, why is it not among his papers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off with her? If so, is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for itwithout theFrench policehavingtheir suspicions aroused? It is a case, my dear Watson, where the lawisasdangeroustousasthecriminalsare. Every man’shandisagainstus,andyettheinterestsatstake arecolossal. ShouldIbringittoasuccessfulconclu- sionitwillcertainlyrepresentthecrowninggloryof mycareer. Ah,hereismylatestfromthefront!”He glancedhurriedlyatthenotewhichhadbeenhanded in. “Halloa! Lestradeseemstohaveobservedsome- thing of interest. Put on your hat, Watson, and we willstrolldowntogethertoWestminster.” It was my first visit to the scene of the crime—a high,dingy,narrow-chestedhouse,prim,formal,and solid,likethecenturywhichgaveitbirth. Lestrade’s bulldogfeaturesgazedoutatusfromthefrontwin- dow,andhegreeteduswarmlywhenabigconstable had opened the door and let us in. The room into which we were shown was that in which the crime hadbeencommitted,butnotraceofitnowremained, save an ugly, irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a small square drugget in the centre of the room, surrounded by a broad expanse of beau- tiful, old-fashioned wood-flooring in square blocks highlypolished. Overthefireplacewasamagnificent trophy of weapons, one of which had been used on that tragic night. In the window was a sumptuous writing-desk,andeverydetailoftheapartment,the pictures,therugs,andthehangings,allpointedtoa tastewhichwasluxurioustothevergeofeffeminacy.</s>“SeentheParisnews?”askedLestrade.</s>Holmesnodded.</s>“Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time. No doubt it’s just as they say. She knocked at the door—surprise visit, I guess, for he kepthislifeinwater-tightcompartments. Helether in—couldn’tkeepherinthestreet. Shetoldhimhow shehadtracedhim,reproachedhim,onethingledto another,andthenwiththatdaggersohandytheendsoon came. It wasn’t all done in an instant, though, for these chairs were all swept over yonder, and he hadoneinhishandasifhehadtriedtoholdheroff withit. We’vegotitallclearasifwehadseenit.” Holmesraisedhiseyebrows.</s>“Andyetyouhavesentforme?” “Ah,yes,that’sanothermatter—ameretrifle,but thesortofthingyoutakeaninterestin—queer,you know,andwhatyoumightcallfreakish. Ithasnoth- ingtodowiththemainfact—can’thave,ontheface ofit.” “Whatisit,then?” “Well,youknow,afteracrimeofthissortweare verycarefultokeepthingsintheirposition. Nothing hasbeenmoved. Officerinchargeheredayandnight.</s>Thismorning,asthemanwasburiedandtheinves- tigationover—sofarasthisroomisconcerned—we thoughtwecouldtidyupabit. Thiscarpet. Yousee, itisnotfasteneddown;onlyjustlaidthere. Wehad occasiontoraiseit. Wefound—” “Yes? Youfound—” Holmes’sfacegrewtensewithanxiety.</s>“Well, I’msureyouwould neverguess ina hun- dredyearswhatwedidfind. Youseethatstainonthe carpet? Well,agreatdealmusthavesoakedthrough, mustitnot?” “Undoubtedlyitmust.” “Well,youwillbesurprisedtohearthatthereis nostainonthewhitewoodworktocorrespond.” “Nostain! Buttheremust—” “Yes;soyouwouldsay. Butthefactremainsthat thereisn’t.” Hetookthecornerofthecarpetinhishandand, turning it over, he showed that it was indeed as he said.</s>“But the underside is as stained as the upper. It musthaveleftamark.” Lestradechuckledwithdelightathavingpuzzled thefamousexpert.</s>“NowI’llshowyoutheexplanation. Thereisasec- ondstain,butitdoesnotcorrespondwiththeother.</s>Seeforyourself.”Ashespokeheturnedoveranother portionofthecarpet,andthere,sureenough,wasa great crimson spill upon the square white facing of theold-fashionedfloor. “Whatdoyoumakeofthat, Mr.Holmes?” “Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond,butthecarpethasbeenturnedround. As itwassquareandunfasteneditwaseasilydone.” “The official police don’t need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell them that the carpet must have been turned round. That’s clear enough, for the stains lie above each other—if you lay it over this way. But what I wanttoknowis,whoshiftedthecarpet,andwhy?” IcouldseefromHolmes’srigidfacethathewas vibratingwithinwardexcitement.</s>“Look here, Lestrade,” said he, “has that consta- bleinthepassagebeeninchargeoftheplaceallthe time?” “Yes,hehas.” “Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully.</s>Don’tdoitbeforeus. We’llwaithere. Youtakehim into the back room. You’ll be more likely to get a confessionoutofhimalone. Askhimhowhedared to admit people and leave them alone in this room.</s>Don’t ask him if he has done it. Take it for granted.</s>Tellhimyouknowsomeonehasbeenhere. Presshim.</s>Tell him that a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness. DoexactlywhatItellyou!” “By George, if he knows I’ll have it out of him!” cried Lestrade. He darted into the hall, and a few moments later his bullying voice sounded from the backroom.</s>“Now, Watson, now!” cried Holmes, with fren- ziedeagerness. Allthedemoniacalforceoftheman masked behind that listless manner burst out in a paroxysm of energy. He tore the drugget from the floor, and in an instant was down on his hands and kneesclawingateachofthesquaresofwoodbeneath it. Oneturnedsidewaysashedughisnailsintothe edgeofit. Ithingedbacklikethelidofabox. Asmall blackcavityopenedbeneathit. Holmesplungedhis eagerhandintoit,anddrewitoutwithabittersnarl ofangeranddisappointment. Itwasempty.</s>“Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!” The woodenlidwasreplaced,andthedruggethadonly justbeendrawnstraightwhenLestrade’svoicewas heardinthepassage. HefoundHolmesleaninglan- guidlyagainstthemantelpiece,resignedandpatient, endeavouringtoconcealhisirrepressibleyawns.</s>“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes. I can see that you are bored to death with the whole af- fair. Well, he has confessed, all right. Come in here, MacPherson. Letthesegentlemenhearofyourmost inexcusableconduct.” The big constable, very hot and penitent, sidled intotheroom.</s>“Imeantnoharm,sir,I’msure. Theyoungwoman cametothedoorlastevening—mistookthehouse,shedid. And then we got talking. It’s lonesome, when you’reondutyhereallday.” “Well,whathappenedthen?” “She wanted to see where the crime was done—hadreadaboutitinthepapers,shesaid. She was a very respectable, well-spoken young woman, sir, and I saw no harm in letting her have a peep.</s>When she saw that mark on the carpet, down she dropped on the floor, and lay as if she were dead. I ran to the back and got some water, but I could not bring her to. Then I went round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and by the time I had broughtitbacktheyoungwomanhadrecoveredand was off—ashamed of herself, I dare say, and dared notfaceme.” “Howaboutmovingthatdrugget?” “Well, sir, it was a bit rumpled, certainly, when I came back. You see, she fell on it, and it lies on a polished floor with nothing to keep it in place. I straighteneditoutafterwards.” “It’s a lesson to you that you can’t deceive me, ConstableMacPherson,”saidLestrade,withdignity.</s>“Nodoubtyouthoughtthatyourbreachofdutycould never be discovered, and yet a mere glance at that drugget was enough to convince me that someone had been admitted to the room. It’s lucky for you, myman,thatnothingismissing,oryouwouldfind yourselfinQueerStreet. I’msorrytohavecalledyou downoversuchapettybusiness,Mr.Holmes,butI thoughtthepointofthesecondstainnotcorrespond- ingwiththefirstwouldinterestyou.” “Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this womanonlybeenhereonce,constable?” “Yes,sir,onlyonce.” “Whowasshe?” “Don’t know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement about type-writing, and came to the wrongnumber—verypleasant,genteelyoungwoman, sir.” “Tall? Handsome?” “Yes, sir; she was a well-grown young woman. I supposeyoumightsayshewashandsome. Perhaps somewouldsayshewasveryhandsome. ‘Oh,officer, do let me have a peep!’ says she. She had pretty, coaxingways,asyoumightsay,andIthoughtthere wasnoharminlettingherjustputherheadthrough thedoor.” “Howwasshedressed?” “Quiet,sir—alongmantledowntoherfeet.” “Whattimewasit?” “Itwasjustgrowingduskatthetime. Theywere lightingthelampsasIcamebackwiththebrandy.” “Verygood,”saidHolmes. “Come,Watson,Ithink thatwehavemoreimportantworkelsewhere.” As we left the house Lestrade remained in the frontroom,whiletherepentantconstableopenedthe door to let us out. Holmes turned on the step and heldupsomethinginhishand. Theconstablestared intently.</s>“Good Lord, sir!” he cried, with amazement on hisface. Holmesputhisfingeronhislips,replaced hishandinhisbreast-pocket,andburstoutlaughing as we turned down the street. “Excellent!” said he.</s>“Come, friend Watson, the curtain rings up for the lastact. Youwillberelievedtohearthattherewillbe no war, that the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope willsuffernoset-backinhisbrilliantcareer,thatthe indiscreet Sovereign will receive no punishment for hisindiscretion,thatthePrimeMinisterwillhaveno European complication to deal with, and that with a little tact and management upon our part nobody willbeapennytheworseforwhatmighthavebeena veryuglyincident.” Mymindfilledwithadmirationforthisextraordi- naryman.</s>“Youhavesolvedit!”Icried.</s>“Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as dark as ever. But we have so much thatitwillbeourownfaultifwecannotgettherest.</s>WewillgostraighttoWhitehallTerraceandbringthe mattertoahead.” WhenwearrivedattheresidenceoftheEuropean SecretaryitwasforLadyHildaTrelawneyHopethat SherlockHolmesinquired. Wewereshownintothe morning-room.</s>“Mr. Holmes!” said the lady, and her face was pink with her indignation, “this is surely most un- fair and ungenerous upon your part. I desired, as I haveexplained,tokeepmyvisittoyouasecret,lest my husband should think that I was intruding into his affairs. And yet you compromise me by coming hereandsoshowingthattherearebusinessrelations betweenus.” “Unfortunately, madam, I had no possible alter- native. I have been commissioned to recover this immenselyimportantpaper. Imustthereforeaskyou, madam,tobekindenoughtoplaceitinmyhands.” The lady sprang to her feet, with the colour all dashedinaninstantfromherbeautifulface. Hereyes glazed—shetottered—Ithoughtthatshewouldfaint.</s>Thenwithagrandeffortsheralliedfromtheshock,andasupremeastonishmentandindignationchased everyotherexpressionfromherfeatures.</s>“You—youinsultme,Mr.Holmes.” “Come, come, madam, it is useless. Give up the letter.” Shedartedtothebell.</s>“Thebutlershallshowyouout.” “Donotring,LadyHilda. Ifyoudo,thenallmy earnest efforts to avoid a scandal will be frustrated.</s>Giveuptheletterandallwillbesetright. Ifyouwill workwithmeIcanarrangeeverything. Ifyouwork againstmeImustexposeyou.” She stood grandly defiant, a queenly figure, her eyesfixeduponhisasifshewouldreadhisverysoul.</s>Her hand was on the bell, but she had forborne to ringit.</s>“You are trying to frighten me. It is not a very manlything,Mr.Holmes,tocomehereandbrowbeat awoman. Yousaythatyouknowsomething. Whatis itthatyouknow?” “Pray sit down, madam. You will hurt yourself thereifyoufall. Iwillnotspeakuntilyousitdown.</s>Thankyou.” “Igiveyoufiveminutes,Mr.Holmes.” “Oneisenough,LadyHilda. Iknowofyourvisit toEduardoLucas,ofyourgivinghimthisdocument, ofyouringeniousreturntotheroomlastnight,and ofthemannerinwhichyoutooktheletterfromthe hiding-placeunderthecarpet.” Shestaredathimwithanashenfaceandgulped twicebeforeshecouldspeak.</s>“You are mad, Mr. Holmes—you are mad!” she cried,atlast.</s>He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the face of a woman cut out of a portrait.</s>“IhavecarriedthisbecauseIthoughtitmightbe useful,”saidhe. “Thepolicemanhasrecognisedit.” Shegaveagaspandherheaddroppedbackinthe chair.</s>“Come,LadyHilda. Youhavetheletter. Themat- ter may still be adjusted. I have no desire to bring troubletoyou. MydutyendswhenIhavereturned thelostlettertoyourhusband. Takemyadviceand befrankwithme;itisyouronlychance.” Hercouragewasadmirable. Evennowshewould notowndefeat.</s>“Itellyouagain,Mr.Holmes,thatyouareunder someabsurdillusion.” Holmesrosefromhischair.</s>“Iamsorryforyou,LadyHilda. Ihavedonemy bestforyou;Icanseethatitisallinvain.” Herangthebell. Thebutlerentered.</s>“IsMr.TrelawneyHopeathome?” “Hewillbehome,sir,ataquartertoone.” Holmesglancedathiswatch.</s>“Stillaquarterofanhour,”saidhe. “Verygood,I shallwait.” Thebutlerhadhardlyclosedthedoorbehindhim whenLadyHildawasdownonherkneesatHolmes’s feet, her hands out-stretched, her beautiful face up- turnedandwetwithhertears.</s>“Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!” she pleaded, in a frenzy of supplication. “For Heaven’s sake,don’ttellhim! Ilovehimso! Iwouldnotbring oneshadowonhislife,andthisIknowwouldbreak hisnobleheart.” Holmesraisedthelady. “Iamthankful, madam, that you have come to your senses even at this last moment! Thereisnotaninstanttolose. Whereisthe letter?” She darted across to a writing-desk, unlocked it, anddrewoutalongblueenvelope.</s>“Here it is, Mr. Holmes. Would to Heaven I had neverseenit!” “How can we return it?” Holmes muttered.</s>“Quick,quick,wemustthinkofsomeway! Whereis thedespatch-box?” “Stillinhisbedroom.” “What a stroke of luck! Quick, madam, bring it here!” Amomentlatershehadappearedwitharedflat boxinherhand.</s>“How did you open it before? You have a dupli- catekey? Yes,ofcourseyouhave. Openit!” FromoutofherbosomLadyHildahaddrawna small key. The box flew open. It was stuffed with papers. Holmesthrusttheblueenvelopedeepdown into the heart of them, between the leaves of some other document. The box was shut, locked, and re- turnedtothebedroom.</s>“Now we are ready for him,” said Holmes; “we have still ten minutes. I am going far to screen you, Lady Hilda. In return you will spend the time in tellingmefranklytherealmeaningofthisextraordi- naryaffair.” “Mr.Holmes,Iwilltellyoueverything,”criedthe lady. “Oh,Mr.Holmes,Iwouldcutoffmyrighthandbefore I gave him a moment of sorrow! There is no womaninallLondonwholovesherhusbandasIdo, and yet if he knew how I have acted—how I have been compelled to act—he would never forgive me.</s>Forhisownhonourstandssohighthathecouldnot forget or pardon a lapse in another. Help me, Mr.</s>Holmes! Myhappiness,hishappiness,ourverylives areatstake!” “Quick,madam,thetimegrowsshort!” “Itwasaletterofmine,Mr.Holmes,anindiscreet letterwrittenbeforemymarriage—afoolishletter,a letter of an impulsive, loving girl. I meant no harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had he read that letter his confidence would have been for ever destroyed. It is years since I wrote it. I had thoughtthatthewholematterwasforgotten. Thenat lastIheardfromthisman,Lucas,thatithadpassed into his hands, and that he would lay it before my husband. I implored his mercy. He said that he would return my letter if I would bring him a cer- taindocumentwhichhedescribedinmyhusband’s despatch-box. He had some spy in the office who hadtoldhimofitsexistence. Heassuredmethatno harmcouldcometomyhusband. Putyourselfinmy position,Mr.Holmes! WhatwasItodo?” “Takeyourhusbandintoyourconfidence.” “I could not, Mr. Holmes, I could not! On the one side seemed certain ruin; on the other, terrible as it seemed to take my husband’s paper, still in a matter of politics I could not understand the conse- quences,whileinamatterofloveandtrusttheywere only too clear to me. I did it, Mr. Holmes! I took animpressionofhiskey;thismanLucasfurnisheda duplicate. Iopenedhisdespatch-box,tookthepaper, andconveyedittoGodolphinStreet.” “Whathappenedthere,madam?” “Itappedatthedoorasagreed. Lucasopenedit.</s>I followed him into his room, leaving the hall door ajarbehindme,forIfearedtobealonewiththeman.</s>IrememberthattherewasawomanoutsideasIen- tered. Ourbusinesswassoondone. Hehadmyletter on his desk; I handed him the document. He gave metheletter. Atthisinstanttherewasasoundatthe door. Therewerestepsinthepassage. Lucasquickly turned back the drugget, thrust the document into somehiding-placethere,andcovereditover.</s>“What happened after that is like some fearful dream. I have a vision of a dark, frantic face, of a woman’svoice,whichscreamedinFrench,‘Mywait- ing is not in vain. At last, at last I have found you with her!’ There was a savage struggle. I saw him with a chair in his hand, a knife gleamed in hers. I rushed from the horrible scene, ran from the house, and only next morning in the paper did I learn the dreadfulresult. ThatnightIwashappy,forIhadmy letter,andIhadnotseenyetwhatthefuturewould bring.</s>“It was the next morning that I realized that I hadonlyexchangedonetroubleforanother. Myhus- band’s anguish at the loss of his paper went to my heart. Icouldhardlypreventmyselffromthereand thenkneelingdownathisfeetandtellinghimwhat Ihaddone. Butthatagainwouldmeanaconfession of the past. I came to you that morning in order to understandthefullenormityofmyoffence. Fromthe instantthatIgraspeditmywholemindwasturnedto theonethoughtofgettingbackmyhusband’spaper.</s>ItmuststillbewhereLucashadplacedit,foritwas concealed before this dreadful woman entered the room. Ifithadnotbeenforhercoming,Ishouldnot have known where his hiding-place was. How was I to get into the room? For two days I watched the place,butthedoorwasneverleftopen. LastnightI madealastattempt. WhatIdidandhowIsucceeded, you have already learned. I brought the paper back with me, and thought of destroying it since I could see no way of returning it, without confessing my guilttomyhusband. Heavens, Ihearhisstepupon thestair!” The European Secretary burst excitedly into the room.</s>“Anynews,Mr.Holmes,anynews?”hecried.</s>“Ihavesomehopes.” “Ah, thank heaven!” His face became radiant.</s>“The Prime Minister is lunching with me. May he share your hopes? He has nerves of steel, and yet I knowthathehashardlysleptsincethisterribleevent.</s>Jacobs,willyouaskthePrimeMinistertocomeup? Astoyou,dear,Ifearthatthisisamatterofpolitics.</s>Wewilljoinyouinafewminutesinthedining-room.” ThePrimeMinister’smannerwassubdued,butI couldseebythegleamofhiseyesandthetwitchings of his bony hands that he shared the excitement of hisyoungcolleague.</s>“Iunderstandthatyouhavesomethingtoreport, Mr.Holmes?” “Purelynegativeasyet,”myfriendanswered. “I haveinquiredateverypointwhereitmightbe,andI amsurethatthereisnodangertobeapprehended.” “But that is not enough, Mr. Holmes. We can- not live for ever on such a volcano. We must have somethingdefinite.”“Iaminhopesofgettingit. ThatiswhyIamhere.</s>ThemoreIthinkofthematterthemoreconvincedI amthattheletterhasneverleftthishouse.” “Mr.Holmes!” “If it had it would certainly have been public by now.” “Butwhyshouldanyonetakeitinordertokeep itinhishouse?” “Iamnotconvincedthatanyonedidtakeit.” “Thenhowcoulditleavethedespatch-box?” “I am not convinced that it ever did leave the despatch-box.” “Mr. Holmes, this joking is very ill-timed. You havemyassurancethatitleftthebox.” “HaveyouexaminedtheboxsinceTuesdaymorn- ing?” “No;itwasnotnecessary.” “Youmayconceivablyhaveoverlookedit.” “Impossible,Isay.” “ButIamnotconvincedofit;Ihaveknownsuch things to happen. I presume there are other papers there. Well,itmayhavegotmixedwiththem.” “Itwasonthetop.” “Someonemayhaveshakentheboxanddisplaced it.” “No,no;Ihadeverythingout.” “Surely it is easily decided, Hope,” said the Pre- mier. “Letushavethedespatch-boxbroughtin.” TheSecretaryrangthebell.</s>“Jacobs, bring down my despatch-box. This is a farcical waste of time, but still, if nothing else will satisfyyou,itshallbedone. Thankyou,Jacobs;put it here. I have always had the key on my watch- chain. Here are the papers, you see. Letter from Lord Merrow, report from Sir Charles Hardy, mem- orandumfromBelgrade,noteontheRusso-German graintaxes,letterfromMadrid,notefromLordFlow- ers—goodheavens! whatisthis? LordBellinger! Lord Bellinger!” ThePremiersnatchedtheblueenvelopefromhis hand.</s>“Yes,itisit—andtheletterisintact. Hope,Icon- gratulateyou.” “Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from myheart. Butthisisinconceivable—impossible. Mr.</s>Holmes,youareawizard,asorcerer! Howdidyou knowitwasthere?” “BecauseIknewitwasnowhereelse.” “Icannotbelievemyeyes!”Heranwildlytothe door. “Where is my wife? I must tell her that all is well. Hilda! Hilda!”weheardhisvoiceonthestairs.</s>The Premier looked at Holmes with twinkling eyes.</s>“Come,sir,”saidhe. “Thereismoreinthisthan meetstheeye. Howcametheletterbackinthebox?” Holmes turned away smiling from the keen scrutinyofthosewonderfuleyes.</s>“We also have our diplomatic secrets,” said he, andpickinguphishatheturnedtothedoor.Table of Mr. SherlockHolmes................</s>TheCurseoftheBaskervilles........</s>TheProblem.........................</s>SirHenryBaskerville................</s>ThreeBrokenThreads...............</s>BaskervilleHall .....................</s>TheStapletonsofMerripitHouse....</s>FirstReportofDr. Watson...........</s>SecondReportofDr. Watson........</s>ExtractfromtheDiaryofDr. Watson TheManontheTor..................</s>DeathontheMoor..................</s>FixingtheNets......................</s>TheHoundoftheBaskervilles.......</s>ARetrospection.....................</s>contents ................................ 585 ................................. 588 ................................. 592 ................................. 596 ................................ 602 ................................ 606 ................................. 610 ................................. 616 ................................ 619 ................................ 627 ................................. 631 ................................ 636 ................................ 642 ................................. 647 ................................ 652CHAP r herl M . S r.SherlockHolmes,whowasusuallyvery lateinthemornings,saveuponthosenot infrequent occasions when he was up all M night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night be- fore. It was a fine, thick piece of wood, bulbous- headed, of the sort which is known as a “Penang lawyer.” Just under the head was a broad silver band nearly an inch across. “To James Mortimer, M.R.C.S., from his friends of the C.C.H.,” was en- graveduponit,withthedate“1884.”Itwasjustsuch astickastheold-fashionedfamilypractitionerused tocarry—dignified,solid,andreassuring.</s>“Well,Watson,whatdoyoumakeofit?” Holmeswassittingwithhisbacktome,andIhad givenhimnosignofmyoccupation.</s>“HowdidyouknowwhatIwasdoing? Ibelieve youhaveeyesinthebackofyourhead.” “I have, at least, a well-polished, silver-plated coffee-pot in front of me,” said he. “But, tell me, Watson, what do you make of our visitor’s stick? Sincewehavebeensounfortunateastomisshimand havenonotionofhiserrand,thisaccidentalsouvenir becomesofimportance. Letmehearyoureconstruct themanbyanexaminationofit.” “I think,” said I, following as far as I could the methods of my companion, “that Dr. Mortimer is a successful,elderlymedicalman,well-esteemedsince those who know him give him this mark of their appreciation.” “Good!”saidHolmes. “Excellent!” “Ithinkalsothattheprobabilityisinfavourofhis beingacountrypractitionerwhodoesagreatdealof hisvisitingonfoot.” “Whyso?” “Becausethisstick,thoughoriginallyaveryhand- someonehasbeensoknockedaboutthatIcanhardly imagineatownpractitionercarryingit. Thethick-iron ferruleisworndown,soitisevidentthathehasdone agreatamountofwalkingwithit.” “Perfectlysound!”saidHolmes.</s>“Andthenagain,thereisthe‘friendsoftheC.C.H.’ I should guess that to be the Something Hunt, the localhunttowhosemembershehaspossiblygiven somesurgicalassistance,andwhichhasmadehima smallpresentationinreturn.” PTER I.</s>ock olmes H “Really,Watson,youexcelyourself,”saidHolmes, pushingbackhischairandlightingacigarette. “Iam boundtosaythatinalltheaccountswhichyouhave beensogoodastogiveofmyownsmallachievements youhavehabituallyunderratedyourownabilities. It maybethatyouarenotyourselfluminous,butyou areaconductoroflight. Somepeoplewithoutpossess- ing genius have a remarkable power of stimulating it. Iconfess,mydearfellow,thatIamverymuchin yourdebt.” He had never said as much before, and I must admitthathiswordsgavemekeenpleasure,forIhad oftenbeenpiquedbyhisindifferencetomyadmira- tion and to the attempts which I had made to give publicity to his methods. I was proud, too, to think thatIhadsofarmasteredhissystemastoapplyitin a way which earned his approval. He now took the stickfrommyhandsandexamineditforafewmin- uteswithhisnakedeyes. Thenwithanexpressionof interesthelaiddownhiscigarette,andcarryingthe cane to the window, he looked over it again with a convexlens.</s>“Interesting, though elementary,” said he as he returnedtohisfavouritecornerofthesettee. “There arecertainlyoneortwoindicationsuponthestick. It givesusthebasisforseveraldeductions.” “Has anything escaped me?” I asked with some self-importance. “Itrustthatthereisnothingofcon- sequencewhichIhaveoverlooked?” “Iamafraid,mydearWatson,thatmostofyour conclusions were erroneous. When I said that you stimulated me I meant, to be frank, that in noting yourfallaciesIwasoccasionallyguidedtowardsthe truth. Notthatyouareentirelywronginthisinstance.</s>The man is certainly a country practitioner. And he walksagooddeal.” “ThenIwasright.” “Tothatextent.” “Butthatwasall.” “No, no, my dear Watson, not all—by no means all. Iwouldsuggest,forexample,thatapresentation to a doctor is more likely to come from a hospital thanfromahunt,andthatwhentheinitials‘C.C.’are placedbeforethathospitalthewords‘CharingCross’ verynaturallysuggestthemselves.” “Youmayberight.” “Theprobabilityliesinthatdirection. Andifwe take this as a working hypothesis we have a freshbasis from which to start our construction of this unknownvisitor.” “Well, then, supposing that ‘C.C.H.’ does stand for‘CharingCrossHospital,’whatfurtherinferences maywedraw?” “Do none suggest themselves? You know my methods. Applythem!” “I can only think of the obvious conclusion that the man has practised in town before going to the country.” “Ithinkthatwemightventurealittlefartherthan this. Lookatitinthislight. Onwhatoccasionwould itbemostprobablethatsuchapresentationwouldbe made? When would his friends unite to give him a pledgeoftheirgoodwill? Obviouslyatthemoment whenDr.Mortimerwithdrewfromtheserviceofthe hospital in order to start in practice for himself. We knowtherehasbeenapresentation. Webelievethere hasbeenachangefromatownhospitaltoacountry practice. Isit,then,stretchingourinferencetoofarto saythatthepresentationwasontheoccasionofthe change?” “Itcertainlyseemsprobable.” “Now, you will observe that he could not have been on the staff of the hospital, since only a man well-establishedinaLondonpracticecouldholdsuch a position, and such a one would not drift into the country. Whatwashe,then? Ifhewasinthehospital and yet not on the staff he could only have been a house-surgeonorahouse-physician—littlemorethan aseniorstudent. Andheleftfiveyearsago—thedate is on the stick. So your grave, middle-aged family practitioner vanishes into thin air, my dear Watson, andthereemergesayoungfellowunderthirty,ami- able,unambitious,absent-minded,andthepossessor ofafavouritedog,whichIshoulddescriberoughlyas beinglargerthanaterrierandsmallerthanamastiff.” I laughed incredulously as Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his settee and blew little wavering ringsofsmokeuptotheceiling.</s>“Astothelatterpart,Ihavenomeansofchecking you,”saidI,“butatleastitisnotdifficulttofindouta fewparticularsabouttheman’sageandprofessional career.”FrommysmallmedicalshelfItookdownthe Medical Directory and turned up the name. There wereseveralMortimers,butonlyonewhocouldbe ourvisitor. Ireadhisrecordaloud.</s>“Mortimer, James, M.R.C.S., 1882, Grimpen, Dartmoor, Devon. House- surgeon, from 1882 to 1884, at Charing Cross Hospital. Winner of the Jackson prizeforComparativePathology,withes- sayentitled‘IsDiseaseaReversion?’ Cor- respondingmemberoftheSwedishPatho- logicalSociety. Authorof‘SomeFreaksof Atavism’(Lancet1882). ‘DoWeProgress?’ (Journal of Psychology, March, 1883). Med- ical Officer for the parishes of Grimpen, Thorsley,andHighBarrow.” “No mention of that local hunt, Watson,” said Holmeswithamischievoussmile,“butacountrydoc- tor, as you very astutely observed. I think that I am fairlyjustifiedinmyinferences. Astotheadjectives, Isaid,ifIrememberright,amiable,unambitious,and absent-minded. Itismyexperiencethatitisonlyan amiablemaninthisworldwhoreceivestestimonials, onlyanunambitiousonewhoabandonsaLondonca- reerforthecountry,andonlyanabsent-mindedone who leaves his stick and not his visiting-card after waitinganhourinyourroom.” “Andthedog?” “Has been in the habit of carrying this stick be- hindhismaster. Beingaheavystickthedoghasheld ittightlybythemiddle,andthemarksofhisteethare very plainly visible. The dog’s jaw, as shown in the spacebetweenthesemarks,istoobroadinmyopin- ion for a terrier and not broad enough for a mastiff.</s>It may have been—yes, by Jove, it is a curly-haired spaniel.” He had risen and paced the room as he spoke.</s>Nowhehaltedintherecessofthewindow. Therewas such a ring of conviction in his voice that I glanced upinsurprise.</s>“Mydearfellow,howcanyoupossiblybesosure ofthat?” “FortheverysimplereasonthatIseethedoghim- selfonourverydoor-step,andthereistheringofits owner. Don’tmove,Ibegyou,Watson. Heisaprofes- sionalbrotherofyours,andyourpresencemaybeof assistancetome. Nowisthedramaticmomentoffate, Watson,whenyouhearastepuponthestairwhichis walkingintoyourlife,andyouknownotwhetherfor goodorill. WhatdoesDr.JamesMortimer,theman of science, ask of Sherlock Holmes, the specialist in crime? Comein!” Theappearanceofourvisitorwasasurprisetome, sinceIhadexpectedatypicalcountrypractitioner. Hewasaverytall,thinman,withalongnoselikeabeak, which jutted out between two keen, gray eyes, set closelytogetherandsparklingbrightlyfrombehinda pairofgold-rimmedglasses. Hewascladinaprofes- sionalbutratherslovenlyfashion, forhisfrock-coat wasdingyandhistrousersfrayed. Thoughyoung,his longbackwasalreadybowed,andhewalkedwitha forwardthrustofhisheadandageneralairofpeer- ingbenevolence. Asheenteredhiseyesfelluponthe stick in Holmes’s hand, and he ran towards it with an exclamation of joy. “I am so very glad,” said he.</s>“I was not sure whether I had left it here or in the Shipping Office. I would not lose that stick for the world.” “Apresentation,Isee,”saidHolmes.</s>“Yes,sir.” “FromCharingCrossHospital?” “Fromoneortwofriendsthereontheoccasionof mymarriage.” “Dear,dear,that’sbad!”saidHolmes,shakinghis head.</s>Dr.Mortimerblinkedthroughhisglassesinmild astonishment.</s>“Whywasitbad?” “Onlythatyouhavedisarrangedourlittlededuc- tions. Yourmarriage,yousay?” “Yes, sir. I married, and so left the hospital, and withitallhopesofaconsultingpractice. Itwasnec- essarytomakeahomeofmyown.” “Come,come,wearenotsofarwrong,afterall,” saidHolmes. “Andnow,Dr.JamesMortimer—” “Mister,sir,Mister—ahumbleM.R.C.S.” “Andamanofprecisemind,evidently.” “Adabblerinscience,Mr.Holmes,apickerupof shells on the shores of the great unknown ocean. I presume that it is Mr. Sherlock Holmes whom I am addressingandnot—” “No,thisismyfriendDr.Watson.” “Glad to meet you, sir. I have heard your name mentionedinconnectionwiththatofyourfriend. You interestmeverymuch,Mr.Holmes. Ihadhardlyex- pectedsodolichocephalicaskullorsuchwell-marked supra-orbitaldevelopment. Wouldyouhaveanyob- jectiontomyrunningmyfingeralongyourparietal fissure? Acastofyourskull,sir,untiltheoriginalis available,wouldbeanornamenttoanyanthropologi- calmuseum. Itisnotmyintentiontobefulsome,but IconfessthatIcovetyourskull.” SherlockHolmeswavedourstrangevisitorintoa chair. “Youareanenthusiastinyourlineofthought,I perceive,sir,asIaminmine,”saidhe. “Iobservefrom your forefinger that you make your own cigarettes.</s>Havenohesitationinlightingone.” Themandrewoutpaperandtobaccoandtwirled theoneupintheotherwithsurprisingdexterity. He hadlong,quiveringfingersasagileandrestlessasthe antennaeofaninsect.</s>Holmes was silent, but his little darting glances showedmetheinterestwhichhetookinourcurious companion.</s>“I presume, sir,” said he at last, “that it was not merely for the purpose of examining my skull that youhavedonemethehonourtocallherelastnight andagainto-day?” “No, sir, no; though I am happy to have had the opportunityofdoingthataswell. Icametoyou,Mr.</s>Holmes,becauseIrecognizedthatIammyselfanun- practicalmanandbecauseIamsuddenlyconfronted withamostseriousandextraordinaryproblem. Rec- ognizing, as I do, that you are the second highest expertinEurope—” “Indeed,sir! MayIinquirewhohasthehonourto bethefirst?”askedHolmeswithsomeasperity.</s>“Tothemanofpreciselyscientificmindthework ofMonsieurBertillonmustalwaysappealstrongly.” “Thenhadyounotbetterconsulthim?” “I said, sir, to the precisely scientific mind. But as a practicalman of affairs itis acknowledged that you stand alone. I trust, sir, that I have not inadver- tently—” “Justalittle,”saidHolmes. “Ithink,Dr.Mortimer, youwoulddowiselyifwithoutmoreadoyouwould kindly tell me plainly what the exact nature of the problemisinwhichyoudemandmyassistance.”CHAP he urse of t T C “I have in my pocket a manuscript,” said Dr.</s>JamesMortimer.</s>“I observed it as you entered the room,” said Holmes.</s>“Itisanoldmanuscript.” “Earlyeighteenthcentury,unlessitisaforgery.” “Howcanyousaythat,sir?” “You have presented an inch or two of it to my examinationallthetimethatyouhavebeentalking. It wouldbeapoorexpertwhocouldnotgivethedateof adocumentwithinadecadeorso. Youmaypossibly have read my little monograph upon the subject. I putthatat1730.” “The exact date is 1742.” Dr. Mortimer drew it fromhisbreast-pocket. “Thisfamilypaperwascom- mittedtomycarebySirCharlesBaskerville,whose suddenandtragicdeathsomethreemonthsagocre- ated so much excitement in Devonshire. I may say thatIwashispersonalfriendaswellashismedical attendant. Hewasastrong-mindedman,sir,shrewd, practical, and as unimaginative as I am myself. Yet he took this document very seriously, and his mind waspreparedforjustsuchanendasdideventually overtakehim.” Holmesstretchedouthishandforthemanuscript andflattenedituponhisknee.</s>“Youwillobserve,Watson,thealternativeuseof thelongsandtheshort. Itisoneofseveralindications whichenabledmetofixthedate.” I looked over his shoulder at the yellow paper and the faded script. At the head was written: “BaskervilleHall,”andbelowinlarge,scrawlingfig- ures: “1742.” “Itappearstobeastatementofsomesort.” “Yes, it is a statement of a certain legend which runsintheBaskervillefamily.” “ButIunderstandthatitissomethingmoremod- ern and practical upon which you wish to consult me?” “Mostmodern. Amostpractical,pressingmatter, whichmustbedecidedwithintwenty-fourhours. But the manuscript is short and is intimately connected withtheaffair. WithyourpermissionIwillreaditto you.” TER II.</s>he askervilles B Holmesleanedbackinhischair,placedhisfinger- tipstogether,andclosedhiseyes,withanairofres- ignation. Dr.Mortimerturnedthemanuscripttothe lightandreadinahigh,crackingvoicethefollowing curious,old-worldnarrative:— “OftheoriginoftheHoundoftheBaskervilles there have been many statements, yet as I come in a direct line from Hugo Baskerville, and as I had the story from my father, who alsohaditfromhis,Ihavesetitdownwithall beliefthatitoccurredevenasisheresetforth.</s>And I would have you believe, my sons, that thesameJusticewhichpunishessinmayalso most graciously forgive it, and that no ban is soheavybutthatbyprayerandrepentanceit may be removed. Learn then from this story nottofearthefruitsofthepast, butratherto be circumspect in the future, that those foul passions whereby our family has suffered so grievouslymaynotagainbeloosedtoourun- doing.</s>“Know then that in the time of the Great Re- bellion (the history of which by the learned LordClarendonImostearnestlycommendto yourattention)thisManorofBaskervillewas heldbyHugoofthatname,norcanitbegain- said that he was a most wild, profane, and godless man. This, in truth, his neighbours might have pardoned, seeing that saints have never flourished in those parts, but there was in him a certain wanton and cruel humour which made his name a byword through the West. ItchancedthatthisHugocametolove (if, indeed, so dark a passion may be known undersobrightaname)thedaughterofayeo- man who held lands near the Baskerville es- tate. But the young maiden, being discreet and of good repute, would ever avoid him, for she feared his evil name. So it came to pass that one Michaelmas this Hugo, with five or six of his idle and wicked compan- ions, stole down upon the farm and carried off the maiden, her father and brothers be- ing from home, as he well knew. When they had brought her to the Hall the maiden was placed in an upper chamber, while Hugo and hisfriendssatdowntoalongcarouse,aswas their nightly custom. Now, the poor lass up- stairs was like to have her wits turned at thesingingandshoutingandterribleoathswhich came up to her from below, for they say that thewordsusedbyHugoBaskerville,whenhe wasinwine,weresuchasmightblasttheman whosaidthem. Atlastinthestressofherfear she did that which might have daunted the bravest or most active man, for by the aid of thegrowthofivywhichcovered(andstillcov- ers)thesouthwallshecamedownfromunder the eaves, and so homeward across the moor, therebeingthreeleaguesbetwixttheHalland herfather’sfarm.</s>“It chanced that some little time later Hugo left his guests to carry food and drink—with otherworsethings,perchance—tohiscaptive, and so found the cage empty and the bird es- caped. Then, as it would seem, he became as one that hath a devil, for, rushing down the stairsintothedining-hall,hespranguponthe greattable,flagonsandtrenchersflyingbefore him,andhecriedaloudbeforeallthecompany thathewouldthatverynightrenderhisbody andsoultothePowersofEvilifhemightbut overtake the wench. And while the revellers stoodaghastatthefuryoftheman, onemore wicked or, it may be, more drunken than the rest,criedoutthattheyshouldputthehounds upon her. Whereat Hugo ran from the house, crying to his grooms that they should saddle his mare and unkennel the pack, and giving thehoundsakerchiefofthemaid’s, heswung them to the line, and so off full cry in the moonlightoverthemoor.</s>“Now, for some space the revellers stood agape,unabletounderstandallthathadbeen done in such haste. But anon their bemused witsawoketothenatureofthedeedwhichwas like to be done upon the moorlands. Every- thing was now in an uproar, some calling for their pistols, some for their horses, and some for another flask of wine. But at length some sensecamebacktotheircrazedminds,andthe wholeofthem,thirteeninnumber,tookhorse andstartedinpursuit. Themoonshoneclear abovethem,andtheyrodeswiftlyabreast,tak- ing that course which the maid must needs havetakenifsheweretoreachherownhome.</s>“They had gone a mile or two when they passed one of the night shepherds upon the moorlands, and they cried to him to know if he had seen the hunt. And the man, as the story goes, was so crazed with fear that he could scarce speak, but at last he said that hehadindeedseentheunhappymaiden,with the hounds upon her track. ‘But I have seen morethanthat,’saidhe,‘forHugoBaskerville passedmeuponhisblackmare,andthereran mutebehindhimsuchahoundofhellasGod forbid should ever be at my heels.’ So the drunkensquirescursedtheshepherdandrode onward. Butsoontheirskinsturnedcold,for there came a galloping across the moor, and theblackmare,dabbledwithwhitefroth,went past with trailing bridle and empty saddle.</s>Then the revellers rode close together, for a greatfearwasonthem,buttheystillfollowed overthemoor,thougheach,hadhebeenalone, wouldhavebeenrightgladtohaveturnedhis horse’s head. Riding slowly in this fashion they came at last upon the hounds. These, thoughknownfortheirvalourandtheirbreed, werewhimperinginaclusterattheheadofa deepdiporgoyal,aswecallit,uponthemoor, some slinking away and some, with starting hackles and staring eyes, gazing down the narrowvalleybeforethem.</s>“Thecompanyhadcometoahalt,moresober men, as you may guess, than when they started. Themostofthemwouldbynomeans advance, but three of them, the boldest, or it maybethemostdrunken,rodeforwarddown thegoyal. Now,itopenedintoabroadspacein which stood two of those great stones, still to beseenthere,whichweresetbycertainforgot- ten peoples in the days of old. The moon was shining bright upon the clearing, and there inthecentrelaytheunhappymaidwhereshe had fallen, dead of fear and of fatigue. But it was not the sight of her body, nor yet was it that of the body of Hugo Baskerville lying nearher,whichraisedthehairupontheheads of these three daredevil roysterers, but it was that,standingoverHugo,andpluckingathis throat, there stood a foul thing, a great, black beast,shapedlikeahound,yetlargerthanany hound that ever mortal eye has rested upon.</s>And even as they looked the thing tore the throat out of Hugo Baskerville, on which, as it turned its blazing eyes and dripping jaws upon them, the three shrieked with fear and rode for dear life, still screaming, across the moor. One, it is said, died that very night of what he had seen, and the other twain were butbrokenmenfortherestoftheirdays.“Suchisthetale,mysons,ofthecomingofthe houndwhichissaidtohaveplaguedthefam- ily so sorely ever since. If I have set it down itisbecausethatwhichisclearlyknownhath lessterrorthanthatwhichisbuthintedatand guessed. Nor can it be denied that many of thefamilyhavebeenunhappyintheirdeaths, which have been sudden, bloody, and myste- rious. Yet may we shelter ourselves in the infinite goodness of Providence, which would not forever punish the innocent beyond that thirdorfourthgenerationwhichisthreatened in Holy Writ. To that Providence, my sons, I hereby commend you, and I counsel you by way of caution to forbear from crossing the moor in those dark hours when the powers of evilareexalted.</s>“[This from Hugo Baskerville to his sons Rodger and John, with instructions that they saynothingthereoftotheirsisterElizabeth.]“ WhenDr.Mortimerhadfinishedreadingthissin- gular narrative he pushed his spectacles up on his forehead and stared across at Mr. Sherlock Holmes.</s>Thelatteryawnedandtossedtheendofhiscigarette intothefire.</s>“Well?”saidhe.</s>“Doyounotfinditinteresting?” “Toacollectoroffairytales.” Dr.Mortimerdrewafoldednewspaperoutofhis pocket.</s>“Now,Mr.Holmes,wewillgiveyousomethinga littlemorerecent. ThisistheDevonCountyChronicle of May 14th of this year. It is a short account of the facts elicited at the death of Sir Charles Baskerville whichoccurredafewdaysbeforethatdate.” Myfriendleanedalittleforwardandhisexpres- sionbecameintent. Ourvisitorreadjustedhisglasses andbegan:— “The recent sudden death of Sir Charles Baskerville, whose name has been mentioned as the probable Liberal candidate for Mid- Devon at the next election, has cast a gloom over the county. Though Sir Charles had residedatBaskervilleHallforacomparatively shortperiodhisamiabilityofcharacterandex- tremegenerosityhadwontheaffectionandre- spectofallwhohadbeenbroughtintocontact with him. In these days of nouveaux riches it is refreshing to find a case where the scion ofanoldcountyfamilywhichhasfallenupon evil days is able to make his own fortune and to bring it back with him to restore the fallen grandeur of his line. Sir Charles, as is well known, made large sums of money in South African speculation. More wise than those whogoonuntilthewheelturnsagainstthem, herealizedhisgainsandreturnedtoEngland with them. It is only two years since he took up his residence at Baskerville Hall, and it is commontalkhowlargewerethoseschemesof reconstruction and improvement which have been interrupted by his death. Being himself childless, it was his openly expressed desire thatthewholecountry-sideshould,withinhis own lifetime, profit by his good fortune, and many will have personal reasons for bewail- inghisuntimelyend. Hisgenerousdonations to local and county charities have been fre- quentlychronicledinthesecolumns.</s>“The circumstances connected with the death ofSirCharlescannotbesaidtohavebeenen- tirely cleared up by the inquest, but at least enough has been done to dispose of those ru- mours to which local superstition has given rise. There is no reason whatever to suspect foul play, or to imagine that death could be fromanybutnaturalcauses. SirCharleswas a widower, and a man who may be said to have been in some ways of an eccentric habit of mind. In spite of his considerable wealth he was simple in his personal tastes, and his indoor servants at Baskerville Hall con- sisted of a married couple named Barrymore, the husband acting as butler and the wife as housekeeper. Their evidence, corroborated by that of several friends, tends to show that Sir Charles’s health has for some time been im- paired, and points especially to some affec- tionoftheheart,manifestingitselfinchanges of colour, breathlessness, and acute attacks of nervous depression. Dr. James Mortimer, the friend and medical attendant of the deceased, hasgivenevidencetothesameeffect.</s>“The facts of the case are simple. Sir Charles Baskerville was in the habit every night be- foregoingtobedofwalkingdownthefamous YewAlleyofBaskervilleHall. Theevidenceof the Barrymores shows that this had been his custom. On the 4th of May Sir Charles had declaredhisintentionofstartingnextdayfor London, and had ordered Barrymore to pre- pare his luggage. That night he went out asusual for his nocturnal walk, in the course of which he was in the habit of smoking a cigar.</s>He never returned. At twelve o’clock Bar- rymore, finding the hall door still open, be- came alarmed, and, lighting a lantern, went in search of his master. The day had been wet, and Sir Charles’s footmarks were eas- ily traced down the Alley. Half-way down this walk there is a gate which leads out on to the moor. There were indications that Sir Charles had stood for some little time here.</s>HethenproceededdowntheAlley,anditwas at the far end of it that his body was discov- ered. One fact which has not been explained is the statement of Barrymore that his mas- ter’sfootprintsalteredtheircharacterfromthe time that he passed the moor-gate, and that he appeared from thence onward to have been walking upon his toes. One Murphy, a gipsy horse-dealer,wasonthemooratnogreatdis- tance at the time, but he appears by his own confession to have been the worse for drink.</s>He declares that he heard cries, but is unable to state from what direction they came. No signs of violence were to be discovered upon Sir Charles’s person, and though the doctor’s evidence pointed to an almost incredible fa- cial distortion—so great that Dr. Mortimer refused at first to believe that it was indeed his friend and patient who lay before him—it was explained that that is a symptom which isnotunusualincasesofdyspnoeaanddeath from cardiac exhaustion. This explanation was borne out by the post-mortem examina- tion,whichshowedlong-standingorganicdis- ease,andthecoroner’sjuryreturnedaverdict inaccordancewiththemedicalevidence. Itis wellthatthisisso,foritisobviouslyoftheut- mostimportancethatSirCharles’sheirshould settle at the Hall and continue the good work which has been so sadly interrupted. Had the prosaic finding of the coroner not finally putanendtotheromanticstorieswhichhave been whispered in connection with the affair, it might have been difficult to find a tenant for Baskerville Hall. It is understood that the next of kin is Mr. Henry Baskerville, if he be still alive, the son of Sir Charles Baskerville’s younger brother. The young man when last heardofwasinAmerica,andinquiriesarebe- inginstitutedwithaviewtoinforminghimof hisgoodfortune.” Dr. Mortimer refolded his paper and replaced it inhispocket.</s>“Those are the public facts, Mr. Holmes, in con- nectionwiththedeathofSirCharlesBaskerville.” “I must thank you,” said Sherlock Holmes, “for callingmyattentiontoacasewhichcertainlypresents somefeaturesofinterest. Ihadobservedsomenews- paper comment at the time, but I was exceedingly preoccupiedbythatlittleaffairoftheVaticancameos, andinmyanxietytoobligethePopeIlosttouchwith severalinterestingEnglishcases. Thisarticle,yousay, containsallthepublicfacts?” “Itdoes.” “Then let me have the private ones.” He leaned back, put his finger-tips together, and assumed his mostimpassiveandjudicialexpression.</s>“Indoingso,”saidDr.Mortimer,whohadbegun toshowsignsofsomestrongemotion,“Iamtelling thatwhichIhavenotconfidedtoanyone. Mymotive forwithholdingitfromthecoroner’sinquiryisthat amanofscienceshrinksfromplacinghimselfinthe publicpositionofseemingtoindorseapopularsuper- stition. IhadthefurthermotivethatBaskervilleHall, asthepapersays,wouldcertainlyremainuntenanted if anything were done to increase its already rather grim reputation. For both these reasons I thought thatIwasjustifiedintellingratherlessthanIknew, sincenopracticalgoodcouldresultfromit,butwith youthereisnoreasonwhyIshouldnotbeperfectly frank.</s>“The moor is very sparsely inhabited, and those who live near each other are thrown very much to- gether. ForthisreasonIsawagooddealofSirCharles Baskerville. WiththeexceptionofMr.Frankland,of Lafter Hall, and Mr. Stapleton, the naturalist, there are no other men of education within many miles.</s>SirCharleswasaretiringman,butthechanceofhis illnessbroughtustogether,andacommunityofinter- estsinsciencekeptusso. Hehadbroughtbackmuch scientificinformationfromSouthAfrica,andmanya charmingeveningwehavespenttogetherdiscussing the comparative anatomy of the Bushman and the Hottentot.</s>“Within the last few months it became increas- ingly plain to me that Sir Charles’s nervous system was strained to the breaking point. He had taken this legend which I have read you exceedingly to heart—so much so that, although he would walk in hisowngrounds,nothingwouldinducehimtogoout uponthemooratnight. Incredibleasitmayappear toyou,Mr.Holmes,hewashonestlyconvincedthata dreadful fate overhung his family, and certainly the records which he was able to give of his ancestorswerenotencouraging. Theideaofsomeghastlypres- enceconstantlyhauntedhim,andonmorethanone occasionhehasaskedmewhetherIhadonmymedi- cal journeys at night ever seen any strange creature or heard the baying of a hound. The latter question heputtomeseveraltimes,andalwayswithavoice whichvibratedwithexcitement.</s>“Icanwellrememberdrivinguptohishousein theeveningsomethreeweeksbeforethefatalevent.</s>He chanced to be at his hall door. I had descended frommygigandwasstandinginfrontofhim,when Isawhiseyesfixthemselvesovermyshoulder,and starepastmewithanexpressionofthemostdreadful horror. Iwhiskedroundandhadjusttimetocatcha glimpseofsomethingwhichItooktobealargeblack calfpassingattheheadofthedrive. Soexcitedand alarmedwashethatIwascompelledtogodownto thespotwheretheanimalhadbeenandlookaround for it. It was gone, however, and the incident ap- pearedtomaketheworstimpressionuponhismind.</s>Istayedwithhimalltheevening,anditwasonthat occasion,toexplaintheemotionwhichhehadshown, thatheconfidedtomykeepingthatnarrativewhich IreadtoyouwhenfirstIcame. Imentionthissmall episodebecauseitassumessomeimportanceinview ofthetragedywhichfollowed,butIwasconvincedat thetimethatthematterwasentirelytrivialandthat hisexcitementhadnojustification.</s>“ItwasatmyadvicethatSirCharleswasaboutto gotoLondon. Hisheartwas,Iknew,affected,andthe constantanxietyinwhichhelived,howeverchimeri- cal the cause of it might be, was evidently having a serious effect upon his health. I thought that a few monthsamongthedistractionsoftownwouldsend himbackanewman. Mr.Stapleton,amutualfriend CHAP he r T P I confess at these words a shudder passed throughme. Therewasathrillinthedoctor’svoice whichshowedthathewashimselfdeeplymovedby that which he told us. Holmes leaned forward in hisexcitementandhiseyeshadthehard,dryglitter whichshotfromthemwhenhewaskeenlyinterested.</s>whowasmuchconcernedathisstateofhealth,was of the same opinion. At the last instant came this terriblecatastrophe.</s>“On the night of Sir Charles’s death Barrymore thebutler,whomadethediscovery,sentPerkinsthe groom on horseback to me, and as I was sitting up late I was able to reach Baskerville Hall within an houroftheevent. Icheckedandcorroboratedallthe factswhichwerementionedattheinquest. Ifollowed the footsteps down the Yew Alley, I saw the spot at themoor-gatewhereheseemedtohavewaited,Ire- marked the change in the shape of the prints after thatpoint,Inotedthattherewerenootherfootsteps savethoseofBarrymoreonthesoftgravel,andfinally I carefully examined the body, which had not been toucheduntilmyarrival. SirCharleslayonhisface, his arms out, his fingers dug into the ground, and hisfeaturesconvulsedwithsomestrongemotionto suchanextentthatIcouldhardlyhavesworntohis identity. There was certainly no physical injury of anykind. ButonefalsestatementwasmadebyBarry- moreattheinquest. Hesaidthattherewerenotraces uponthegroundroundthebody. Hedidnotobserve any. ButIdid—somelittledistanceoff,butfreshand clear.” “Footprints?” “Footprints.” “Aman’sorawoman’s?” Dr. Mortimer looked strangely at us for an in- stant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered:— “Mr.Holmes,theywerethefootprintsofagigantic hound!” TER III.</s>roblem “Yousawthis?” “AsclearlyasIseeyou.” “Andyousaidnothing?” “Whatwastheuse?” “Howwasitthatnooneelsesawit?”“The marks were some twenty yards from the body and no one gave them a thought. I don’t sup- pose I should have done so had I not known this legend.” “Therearemanysheep-dogsonthemoor?” “Nodoubt,butthiswasnosheep-dog.” “Yousayitwaslarge?” “Enormous.” “Butithadnotapproachedthebody?” “No.“ “Whatsortofnightwasit?” “Dampandraw.” “Butnotactuallyraining?” “No.” “WhatistheAlleylike?” “There are two lines of old yew hedge, twelve feethighandimpenetrable. Thewalkinthecentreis abouteightfeetacross.” “Is there anything between the hedges and the walk?” “Yes,thereisastripofgrassaboutsixfeetbroad oneitherside.” “Iunderstandthattheyewhedgeispenetratedat onepointbyagate?” “Yes,thewicket-gatewhichleadsontothemoor.” “Isthereanyotheropening?” “None.” “SothattoreachtheYewAlleyoneeitherhasto comedownitfromthehouseorelsetoenteritbythe moor-gate?” “Thereisanexitthroughasummer-houseatthe farend.” “HadSirCharlesreachedthis?” “No;helayaboutfiftyyardsfromit.” “Now, tell me, Dr. Mortimer—and this is impor- tant—themarkswhichyousawwereonthepathand notonthegrass?” “Nomarkscouldshowonthegrass.” “Were they on the same side of the path as the moor-gate?” “Yes; they were on the edge of the path on the samesideasthemoor-gate.” “Youinterestmeexceedingly. Anotherpoint. Was thewicket-gateclosed?” “Closedandpadlocked.” “Howhighwasit?” “Aboutfourfeethigh.” “Thenanyonecouldhavegotoverit?” “Yes.” “Andwhatmarksdidyouseebythewicket-gate?” “Noneinparticular.” “Goodheaven! Didnooneexamine?” “Yes,Iexaminedmyself.” “Andfoundnothing?” “It was all very confused. Sir Charles had evi- dentlystoodthereforfiveortenminutes.” “Howdoyouknowthat?” “Because the ash had twice dropped from his cigar.” “Excellent! Thisisacolleague,Watson,afterour ownheart. Butthemarks?” “He had left his own marks all over that small patchofgravel. Icoulddiscernnoothers.” SherlockHolmesstruckhishandagainsthisknee withanimpatientgesture.</s>“IfIhadonlybeenthere!”hecried. “Itisevidently a case of extraordinary interest, and one which pre- sentedimmenseopportunitiestothescientificexpert.</s>That gravel page upon which I might have read so much has been long ere this smudged by the rain anddefacedbytheclogsofcuriouspeasants. Oh,Dr.</s>Mortimer,Dr.Mortimer,tothinkthatyoushouldnot havecalledmein! Youhaveindeedmuchtoanswer for.” “Icouldnotcallyouin,Mr.Holmes,withoutdis- closing these facts to the world, and I have already given my reasons for not wishing to do so. Besides, besides—” “Whydoyouhesitate?” “There is a realm in which the most acute and mostexperiencedofdetectivesishelpless.” “Youmeanthatthethingissupernatural?” “Ididnotpositivelysayso.” “No,butyouevidentlythinkit.” “Sincethetragedy,Mr.Holmes,therehavecometo myearsseveralincidentswhicharehardtoreconcile withthesettledorderofNature.” “Forexample?” “Ifindthatbeforetheterribleeventoccurredsev- eralpeoplehadseenacreatureuponthemoorwhich correspondswiththisBaskervilledemon,andwhich could not possibly be any animal known to science.</s>Theyallagreedthatitwasahugecreature,luminous, ghastly, and spectral. I have cross-examined thesemen,oneofthemahard-headedcountryman,onea farrier, and one a moorland farmer, who all tell the samestoryofthisdreadfulapparition,exactlycorre- sponding to the hell-hound of the legend. I assure youthatthereisareignofterrorinthedistrict,and that it is a hardy man who will cross the moor at night.” “Andyou, atrainedmanofscience, believeitto besupernatural?” “Idonotknowwhattobelieve.” Holmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“Ihavehithertoconfinedmyinvestigationstothis world,” said he. “In a modest way I have combated evil,buttotakeontheFatherofEvilhimselfwould, perhaps,betooambitiousatask. Yetyoumustadmit thatthefootmarkismaterial.” “Theoriginalhoundwasmaterialenoughtotuga man’sthroatout,andyethewasdiabolicalaswell.” “Iseethatyouhavequitegoneovertothesuper- naturalists. Butnow,Dr.Mortimer,tellmethis. Ifyou holdtheseviews,whyhaveyoucometoconsultme atall? Youtellmeinthesamebreaththatitisuseless toinvestigateSirCharles’sdeath,andthatyoudesire metodoit.” “IdidnotsaythatIdesiredyoutodoit.” “Then,howcanIassistyou?” “By advising me as to what I should do with Sir Henry Baskerville, who arrives at Waterloo Sta- tion”—Dr.Mortimerlookedathiswatch—“inexactly onehourandaquarter.” “Hebeingtheheir?” “Yes. OnthedeathofSirCharlesweinquiredfor this young gentleman and found that he had been farming in Canada. From the accounts which have reached us he is an excellent fellow in every way.</s>I speak not as a medical man but as a trustee and executorofSirCharles’swill.” “Thereisnootherclaimant,Ipresume?” “None. The only other kinsman whom we have been able to trace was Rodger Baskerville, the youngestofthreebrothersofwhompoorSirCharles wastheelder. Thesecondbrother,whodiedyoung, isthefatherofthisladHenry. Thethird,Rodger,was theblacksheepofthefamily. Hecameoftheoldmas- terfulBaskervillestrain,andwastheveryimage,they tellme,ofthefamilypictureofoldHugo. Hemade Englandtoohottoholdhim,fledtoCentralAmerica, anddied therein 1876 ofyellowfever. Henryisthe lastoftheBaskervilles. Inonehourandfiveminutes ImeethimatWaterlooStation. Ihavehadawirethat he arrived at Southampton this morning. Now, Mr.</s>Holmes,whatwouldyouadvisemetodowithhim?” “Why should he not go to the home of his fa- thers?” “Itseemsnatural,doesitnot? Andyet,consider thateveryBaskervillewhogoestheremeetswithan evilfate. IfeelsurethatifSirCharlescouldhavespo- kenwithmebeforehisdeathhewouldhavewarned meagainstbringingthis,thelastoftheoldrace,and theheirtogreatwealth,tothatdeadlyplace. Andyet itcannotbedeniedthattheprosperityofthewhole poor,bleakcountry-sidedependsuponhispresence.</s>AllthegoodworkwhichhasbeendonebySirCharles will crash to the ground if there is no tenant of the Hall. IfearlestIshouldbeswayedtoomuchbymy ownobviousinterestinthematter,andthatiswhyI bringthecasebeforeyouandaskforyouradvice.” Holmesconsideredforalittletime.</s>“Put into plain words, the matter is this,” said he. “In your opinion there is a diabolical agency which makes Dartmoor an unsafe abode for a Baskerville—thatisyouropinion?” “AtleastImightgothelengthofsayingthatthere issomeevidencethatthismaybeso.” “Exactly. But surely, if your supernatural theory becorrect,itcouldworktheyoungmanevilinLon- donaseasilyasinDevonshire. Adevilwithmerely localpowerslikeaparishvestrywouldbetooincon- ceivableathing.” “Youputthemattermoreflippantly,Mr.Holmes, thanyouwouldprobablydoifyouwerebroughtinto personalcontactwiththesethings. Youradvice,then, as I understand it, is that the young man will be as safe in Devonshire as in London. He comes in fifty minutes. Whatwouldyourecommend?” “I recommend, sir, that you take a cab, call off yourspanielwhoisscratchingatmyfrontdoor,and proceedtoWaterlootomeetSirHenryBaskerville.” “Andthen?” “Andthenyouwillsaynothingtohimatalluntil Ihavemadeupmymindaboutthematter.” “How long will it take you to make up your mind?” “Twenty-fourhours. Atteno’clockto-morrow,Dr.</s>Mortimer, I will be much obliged to you if you will call upon me here, and it will be of help to me in my plans for the future if you will bring Sir Henry Baskervillewithyou.” “I will do so, Mr. Holmes.” He scribbled the ap- pointment on his shirtcuff and hurried off in hisstrange, peering, absent-minded fashion. Holmes stoppedhimattheheadofthestair.</s>“Onlyonemorequestion,Dr.Mortimer. Yousay thatbeforeSirCharlesBaskerville’sdeathseveralpeo- plesawthisapparitionuponthemoor?” “Threepeopledid.” “Didanyseeitafter?” “Ihavenotheardofany.” “Thankyou. Goodmorning.” Holmes returnedto his seatwith that quietlook of inward satisfaction which meant that he had a congenialtaskbeforehim.</s>“Goingout,Watson?” “UnlessIcanhelpyou.” “No, my dear fellow, it is at the hour of action thatIturntoyouforaid. Butthisissplendid,really unique from some points of view. When you pass Bradley’s,wouldyouaskhimtosendupapoundof thestrongestshagtobacco? Thankyou. Itwouldbe aswellifyoucouldmakeitconvenientnottoreturn before evening. Then I should be very glad to com- pareimpressionsastothismostinterestingproblem whichhasbeensubmittedtousthismorning.” Iknewthatseclusionandsolitudewereverynec- essaryformyfriendinthosehoursofintensemental concentrationduringwhichheweighedeveryparticle ofevidence,constructedalternativetheories,balanced one against the other, and made up his mind as to whichpointswereessentialandwhichimmaterial. I therefore spent the day at my club and did not re- turntoBakerStreetuntilevening. Itwasnearlynine o’clockwhenIfoundmyselfinthesitting-roomonce more.</s>MyfirstimpressionasIopenedthedoorwasthat a fire had broken out, for the room was so filled withsmokethatthelightofthelampuponthetable was blurred by it. As I entered, however, my fears were set at rest, for it was the acrid fumes of strong coarse tobacco which took me by the throat and set me coughing. Through the haze I had a vague vi- sionofHolmesinhisdressing-gowncoiledupinan armchair with his black clay pipe between his lips.</s>Severalrollsofpaperlayaroundhim.</s>“Caughtcold,Watson?”saidhe.</s>“No,it’sthispoisonousatmosphere.” “Isupposeitisprettythick,nowthatyoumention it.” “Thick! Itisintolerable.” “Openthewindow,then! Youhavebeenatyour cluballday,Iperceive.” “MydearHolmes!” “AmIright?” “Certainly,buthow?” Helaughedatmybewilderedexpression.</s>“There is a delightful freshness about you, Wat- son,whichmakesitapleasuretoexerciseanysmall powerswhichIpossessatyourexpense. Agentleman goes forth on a showery and miry day. He returns immaculateintheeveningwiththeglossstillonhis hatandhisboots. Hehasbeenafixturethereforeall day. He is not a man with intimate friends. Where, then,couldhehavebeen? Isitnotobvious?” “Well,itisratherobvious.” “Theworldisfullofobviousthingswhichnobody by any chance ever observes. Where do you think thatIhavebeen?” “Afixturealso.” “Onthecontrary,IhavebeentoDevonshire.” “Inspirit?” “Exactly. Mybodyhasremainedinthisarm-chair andhas,Iregrettoobserve,consumedinmyabsence twolargepotsofcoffeeandanincredibleamountof tobacco. AfteryouleftIsentdowntoStamford’sfor the Ordnance map of this portion of the moor, and myspirithashoveredoveritallday. Iflattermyself thatIcouldfindmywayabout.” “Alargescalemap,Ipresume?” “Verylarge.”Heunrolledonesectionandheldit overhisknee. “Hereyouhavetheparticulardistrict which concerns us. That is Baskerville Hall in the middle.” “Withawoodroundit?” “Exactly. I fancy the Yew Alley, though not marked under that name, must stretch along this line,withthemoor,asyouperceive,upontherightof it. This small clump of buildings here is the hamlet of Grimpen, where our friend Dr. Mortimer has his headquarters. Withinaradiusoffivemilesthereare, asyousee,onlyaveryfewscattereddwellings. Here isLafterHall,whichwasmentionedinthenarrative.</s>There is a house indicated here which may be the residenceofthenaturalist—Stapleton,ifIremember right, was his name. Here are two moorland farm- houses,HighTorandFoulmire. Thenfourteenmiles awaythegreatconvictprisonofPrincetown. Between andaroundthesescatteredpointsextendsthedeso- late,lifelessmoor. This,then,isthestageuponwhich tragedy has been played, and upon which we may helptoplayitagain.”“Itmustbeawildplace.” “Yes,thesettingisaworthyone. Ifthedevildid desiretohaveahandintheaffairsofmen—” “Thenyouareyourselfincliningtothesupernatu- ralexplanation.” “The devil’s agents may be of flesh and blood, maytheynot? Therearetwoquestionswaitingforus attheoutset. Theoneiswhetheranycrimehasbeen committedatall;thesecondis,whatisthecrimeand howwasitcommitted? Ofcourse,ifDr.Mortimer’s surmise should be correct, and we are dealing with forcesoutsidetheordinarylawsofNature,thereisan endofourinvestigation. Butweareboundtoexhaust allotherhypothesesbeforefallingbackuponthisone.</s>I think we’ll shut that window again, if you don’t mind. Itisasingularthing,butIfindthataconcen- tratedatmospherehelpsaconcentrationofthought.</s>I have not pushed it to the length of getting into a box to think, but that is the logical outcome of my convictions. Have you turned the case over in your mind?” “Yes,Ihavethoughtagooddealofitinthecourse oftheday.” “Whatdoyoumakeofit?” “Itisverybewildering.” “It has certainly a character of its own. There arepointsofdistinctionaboutit. Thatchangeinthe footprints,forexample. Whatdoyoumakeofthat?” “Mortimersaidthatthemanhadwalkedontiptoe downthatportionofthealley.” “Heonlyrepeatedwhatsomefoolhadsaidatthe inquest. Whyshouldamanwalkontiptoedownthe alley?” “Whatthen?” CHAP ir enry S H Ourbreakfast-tablewasclearedearly,andHolmes waited in his dressing-gown for the promised inter- view. Ourclientswerepunctualtotheirappointment, fortheclockhadjuststrucktenwhenDr.Mortimer was shown up, followed by the young baronet. The “Hewasrunning,Watson—runningdesperately, runningforhislife,runninguntilhebursthisheart andfelldeaduponhisface.” “Runningfromwhat?” “Thereliesourproblem. Thereareindicationsthat themanwascrazedwithfearbeforeeverhebeganto run.” “Howcanyousaythat?” “Iampresumingthatthecauseofhisfearscame tohimacrossthemoor. Ifthatwereso,anditseems most probable, only a man who had lost his wits wouldhaverunfromthehouseinsteadoftowardsit.</s>If the gipsy’s evidence may be taken as true, he ran with cries for help in the direction where help was leastlikelytobe. Then,again,whomwashewaiting forthatnight,andwhywashewaitingforhiminthe YewAlleyratherthaninhisownhouse?” “Youthinkthathewaswaitingforsomeone?” “Themanwaselderlyandinfirm. Wecanunder- standhistakinganeveningstroll,butthegroundwas damp and the night inclement. Is it natural that he shouldstandforfiveortenminutes,asDr.Mortimer, with more practical sense than I should have given himcreditfor,deducedfromthecigarash?” “Buthewentouteveryevening.” “Ithinkitunlikelythathewaitedatthemoor-gate everyevening. Onthecontrary,theevidenceisthathe avoidedthemoor. Thatnighthewaitedthere. Itwas the night before he made his departure for London.</s>Thethingtakesshape,Watson. Itbecomescoherent.</s>Might I ask you to hand me my violin, and we will postponeallfurtherthoughtuponthisbusinessuntil wehavehadtheadvantageofmeetingDr.Mortimer andSirHenryBaskervilleinthemorning.” TER IV.</s>askerville B latterwasasmall,alert,dark-eyedmanaboutthirty yearsofage,verysturdilybuilt,withthickblackeye- brows and a strong, pugnacious face. He wore a ruddy-tintedtweedsuitandhadtheweather-beaten appearance of one who has spent most of his timein the open air, and yet there was something in his steady eye and the quiet assurance of his bearing whichindicatedthegentleman.</s>“ThisisSirHenryBaskerville,”saidDr.Mortimer.</s>“Why,yes,”saidhe,“andthestrangethingis,Mr.</s>SherlockHolmes,thatifmyfriendherehadnotpro- posed coming round to you this morning I should havecomeonmyownaccount. Iunderstandthatyou thinkoutlittlepuzzles,andI’vehadonethismorning whichwantsmorethinkingoutthanIamabletogive it.” “Praytakeaseat,SirHenry. DoIunderstandyou to say that you have yourself had some remarkable experiencesinceyouarrivedinLondon?” “Nothingofmuchimportance,Mr.Holmes. Only ajoke,aslikeasnot. Itwasthisletter,ifyoucancall italetter,whichreachedmethismorning.” He laid an envelope upon the table, and we all bent over it. It was of common quality, grayish in colour. Theaddress,“SirHenryBaskerville,Northum- berlandHotel,”wasprintedinroughcharacters;the postmark “Charing Cross,” and the date of posting theprecedingevening.</s>“WhoknewthatyouweregoingtotheNorthum- berlandHotel?”askedHolmes,glancingkeenlyacross atourvisitor.</s>“Noonecouldhaveknown. Weonlydecidedafter ImetDr.Mortimer.” “ButDr.Mortimerwasnodoubtalreadystopping there?” “No, I had been staying with a friend,” said the doctor. “There was no possible indication that we intendedtogotothishotel.” “Hum! Someone seems to be very deeply inter- ested in your movements.” Out of the envelope he took a half-sheet of foolscap paper folded into four.</s>Thisheopenedandspreadflatuponthetable. Across the middle of it a single sentence had been formed bytheexpedientofpastingprintedwordsuponit. It ran: As you value your life or your reason keepawayfromthemoor.</s>Theword“moor”onlywasprintedinink.</s>“Now,”saidSirHenryBaskerville,“perhapsyou willtellme,Mr.Holmes,whatinthunderisthemean- ingofthat,andwhoitisthattakessomuchinterest inmyaffairs?” “Whatdoyoumakeofit,Dr.Mortimer? Youmust allowthatthereisnothingsupernaturalaboutthis,at anyrate?” “No,sir,butitmightverywellcomefromsome- onewhowasconvincedthatthebusinessissupernat- ural.” “What business?” asked Sir Henry sharply. “It seemstomethatallyougentlemenknowagreatdeal morethanIdoaboutmyownaffairs.” “Youshallshareourknowledgebeforeyouleave thisroom,SirHenry. Ipromiseyouthat,”saidSher- lock Holmes. “We will confine ourselves for the present with your permission to this very interest- ing document, which must have been put together andpostedyesterdayevening. Haveyouyesterday’s Times,Watson?” “Itishereinthecorner.” “Might I trouble you for it—the inside page, please,withtheleadingarticles?”Heglancedswiftly over it, running his eyes up and down the columns.</s>“Capitalarticlethisonfreetrade. Permitmetogive youanextractfromit.</s>“‘You may be cajoled into imagining that your own special trade or your own industry willbeencouragedbyaprotectivetariff,butit standstoreasonthatsuchlegislationmustin thelongrunkeepawaywealthfromthecoun- try, diminish the value of our imports, and lower the general conditions of life in this is- land.’ “Whatdoyouthinkofthat,Watson?”criedHolmes in high glee, rubbing his hands together with satis- faction. “Don’tyouthinkthatisanadmirablesenti- ment?” Dr.MortimerlookedatHolmeswithanairofpro- fessionalinterest,andSirHenryBaskervilleturneda pairofpuzzleddarkeyesuponme.</s>“Idon’tknowmuchaboutthetariffandthingsof that kind,” said he; “but it seems to me we’ve got a bitoffthetrailsofarasthatnoteisconcerned.” “On the contrary, I think we are particularly hot upon the trail, Sir Henry. Watson here knows more aboutmymethodsthanyoudo,butIfearthateven hehasnotquitegraspedthesignificanceofthissen- tence.” “No,IconfessthatIseenoconnection.” “Andyet,mydearWatson,thereissoveryclose aconnectionthattheoneisextractedoutoftheother.</s>‘You,’‘your,’‘your,’‘life,’‘reason,’‘value,’‘keepaway,’ ‘from the.’ Don’t you see now whence these words havebeentaken?”“Bythunder,you’reright! Well,ifthatisn’tsmart!” criedSirHenry.</s>“Ifanypossibledoubtremaineditissettledbythe factthat‘keepaway’and‘fromthe’arecutoutinone piece.” “Well,now—soitis!” “Really,Mr.Holmes,thisexceedsanythingwhich Icouldhaveimagined,”saidDr.Mortimer,gazingat myfriendinamazement. “Icouldunderstandanyone saying that the words were from a newspaper; but that you should name which, and add that it came fromtheleadingarticle,isreallyoneofthemostre- markablethingswhichIhaveeverknown. Howdid youdoit?” “Ipresume,Doctor,thatyoucouldtelltheskullof anegrofromthatofanEsquimau?” “Mostcertainly.” “Buthow?” “Becausethatismyspecialhobby. Thedifferences areobvious. Thesupra-orbitalcrest,thefacialangle, themaxillarycurve,the—” “Butthisismyspecialhobby,andthedifferences are equally obvious. There is as much difference to my eyes between the leaded bourgeois type of a Timesarticleandtheslovenlyprintofaneveninghalf- penny paper as there could be between your negro andyourEsquimau. Thedetectionoftypesisoneof the most elementary branches of knowledge to the special expert in crime, though I confess that once whenIwasveryyoungIconfusedtheLeedsMercury withtheWesternMorningNews. ButaTimesleaderis entirelydistinctive,andthesewordscouldhavebeen takenfromnothingelse. Asitwasdoneyesterdaythe strongprobabilitywasthatweshouldfindthewords inyesterday’sissue.” “So far as I can follow you, then, Mr. Holmes,” said Sir Henry Baskerville, “someone cut out this messagewithascissors—” “Nail-scissors,”saidHolmes. “Youcanseethatit wasaveryshort-bladedscissors,sincethecutterhad totaketwosnipsover‘keepaway.’” “That is so. Someone, then, cut out the message with a pair of short-bladed scissors, pasted it with paste—” “Gum,”saidHolmes.</s>“With gum on to the paper. But I want to know whytheword‘moor’shouldhavebeenwritten?” “Because he could not find it in print. The other words were all simple and might be found in any issue,but‘moor’wouldbelesscommon.” “Why,ofcourse,thatwouldexplainit. Haveyou readanythingelseinthismessage,Mr.Holmes?” “Thereareoneortwoindications,andyettheut- mostpainshavebeentakentoremoveallclues. The address, you observe is printed in rough characters.</s>ButtheTimesisapaperwhichisseldomfoundinany handsbutthoseofthehighlyeducated. Wemaytake it,therefore,thattheletterwascomposedbyanedu- catedmanwhowishedtoposeasanuneducatedone, andhisefforttoconcealhisownwritingsuggeststhat thatwritingmightbeknown,orcometobeknown, by you. Again, you will observe that the words are notgummedoninanaccurateline,butthatsomeare muchhigherthanothers. ‘Life,’forexampleisquite outofitsproperplace. Thatmaypointtocarelessness oritmaypointtoagitationandhurryuponthepart ofthecutter. OnthewholeIinclinetothelatterview, since the matter was evidently important, and it is unlikelythatthecomposerofsuchaletterwouldbe careless. If he were in a hurry it opens up the inter- esting question why he should be in a hurry, since any letter posted up to early morning would reach Sir Henry before he would leave his hotel. Did the composerfearaninterruption—andfromwhom?” “We are coming now rather into the region of guesswork,”saidDr.Mortimer.</s>“Say, rather, into the region where we balance probabilitiesandchoosethemostlikely. Itisthesci- entific use of the imagination, but we have always somematerialbasisonwhichtostartourspeculation.</s>Now, you would call it a guess, no doubt, but I am almostcertainthatthisaddresshasbeenwrittenina hotel.” “Howintheworldcanyousaythat?” “Ifyouexamineitcarefullyyouwillseethatboth the pen and the ink have given the writer trouble.</s>The pen has spluttered twice in a single word, and hasrundrythreetimesinashortaddress,showing that there was very little ink in the bottle. Now, a private pen or ink-bottle is seldom allowed to be in suchastate,andthecombinationofthetwomustbe quiterare. Butyouknowthehotelinkandthehotel pen,whereitisraretogetanythingelse. Yes,Ihave verylittlehesitationinsayingthatcouldweexamine thewaste-paperbasketsofthehotelsaroundCharing Cross until we found the remains of the mutilated Times leader we could lay our hands straight upon the person who sent this singular message. Halloa! Halloa! What’sthis?” He was carefully examining the foolscap, upon whichthewordswerepasted,holdingitonlyaninch ortwofromhiseyes.“Well?” “Nothing,” said he, throwing it down. “It is a blankhalf-sheetofpaper,withoutevenawater-mark upon it. I think we have drawn as much as we can fromthiscuriousletter;andnow,SirHenry,hasany- thingelseofinteresthappenedtoyousinceyouhave beeninLondon?” “Why,no,Mr.Holmes. Ithinknot.” “You have not observed anyone follow or watch you?” “I seem to have walked right into the thick of a dimenovel,”saidourvisitor. “Whyinthundershould anyonefolloworwatchme?” “Wearecomingtothat. Youhavenothingelseto reporttousbeforewegointothismatter?” “Well,itdependsuponwhatyouthinkworthre- porting.” “I think anything out of the ordinary routine of lifewellworthreporting.” SirHenrysmiled.</s>“Idon’tknowmuchofBritishlifeyet,forIhave spentnearlyallmytimeintheStatesandinCanada.</s>But I hope that to lose one of your boots is not part oftheordinaryroutineoflifeoverhere.” “Youhavelostoneofyourboots?” “Mydearsir,”criedDr.Mortimer,“itisonlymis- laid. You will find it when you return to the hotel.</s>WhatistheuseoftroublingMr.Holmeswithtrifles ofthiskind?” “Well,heaskedmeforanythingoutsidetheordi- naryroutine.” “Exactly,”saidHolmes,“howeverfoolishtheinci- dentmayseem. Youhavelostoneofyourboots,you say?” “Well,mislaidit,anyhow. Iputthembothoutside my door last night, and there was only one in the morning. I could get no sense out of the chap who cleansthem. TheworstofitisthatIonlyboughtthe pair last night in the Strand, and I have never had themon.” “Ifyouhaveneverwornthem, whydidyouput themouttobecleaned?” “They were tan boots and had never been var- nished. ThatwaswhyIputthemout.” “ThenIunderstandthatonyourarrivalinLondon yesterdayyouwentoutatonceandboughtapairof boots?” “Ididagooddealofshopping. Dr.Mortimerhere went round with me. You see, if I am to be squire downthereImustdressthepart,anditmaybethatI havegotalittlecarelessinmywaysoutWest. Among other things I bought these brown boots—gave six dollars for them—and had one stolen before ever I hadthemonmyfeet.” “Itseemsasingularlyuselessthingtosteal,”said Sherlock Holmes. “I confess that I share Dr. Mor- timer’sbeliefthatitwillnotbelongbeforethemiss- ingbootisfound.” “And, now, gentlemen,” said the baronet with decision, “it seems to me that I have spoken quite enoughaboutthelittlethatIknow. Itistimethatyou keptyourpromiseandgavemeafullaccountofwhat wearealldrivingat.” “Yourrequestisaveryreasonableone,”Holmes answered. “Dr. Mortimer, I think you could not do betterthantotellyourstoryasyoutoldittous.” Thus encouraged, our scientific friend drew his papersfromhispocket,andpresentedthewholecase ashehaddoneuponthemorningbefore. SirHenry Baskerville listened with the deepest attention, and withanoccasionalexclamationofsurprise.</s>“Well, I seem to have come into an inheritance with a vengeance,” said he when the long narrative wasfinished. “Ofcourse,I’veheardofthehoundever since I was in the nursery. It’s the pet story of the family,thoughIneverthoughtoftakingitseriously before. Butastomyuncle’sdeath—well,itallseems boilingupinmyhead,andIcan’tgetitclearyet. You don’tseemquitetohavemadeupyourmindwhether it’sacaseforapolicemanoraclergyman.” “Precisely.” “Andnowthere’sthisaffairofthelettertomeat thehotel. Isupposethatfitsintoitsplace.” “Itseemstoshowthatsomeoneknowsmorethan wedoaboutwhatgoesonuponthemoor,”saidDr.</s>Mortimer.</s>“And also,” said Holmes, “that someone is not ill-disposedtowardsyou,sincetheywarnyouofdan- ger.” “Or it may be that they wish, for their own pur- poses,toscaremeaway.” “Well, of course, that is possible also. I am very muchindebtedtoyou,Dr.Mortimer,forintroducing me to a problem which presents several interesting alternatives. But the practical point which we now have to decide, Sir Henry, is whether it is or is not advisableforyoutogotoBaskervilleHall.”“WhyshouldInotgo?” “Thereseemstobedanger.” “Do you mean danger from this family fiend or doyoumeandangerfromhumanbeings?” “Well,thatiswhatwehavetofindout.” “Whicheveritis,myanswerisfixed. Thereisno devilinhell,Mr.Holmes,andthereisnomanupon earth who can prevent me from going to the home of my own people, and you may take that to be my final answer.” His dark brows knitted and his face flushed to a dusky red as he spoke. It was evident that the fiery temper of the Baskervilles was not ex- tinct in this their last representative. “Meanwhile,” saidhe,“Ihavehardlyhadtimetothinkoverallthat youhavetoldme. It’sabigthingforamantohaveto understandandtodecideatonesitting. Ishouldlike tohaveaquiethourbymyselftomakeupmymind.</s>Now,lookhere,Mr.Holmes,it’shalf-pastelevennow andIamgoingbackrightawaytomyhotel. Suppose you and your friend, Dr. Watson, come round and lunch with us at two. I’ll be able to tell you more clearlythenhowthisthingstrikesme.” “Isthatconvenienttoyou,Watson?” “Perfectly.” “Then you may expect us. Shall I have a cab called?” “I’dprefertowalk,forthisaffairhasflurriedme rather.” “I’ll join you in a walk, with pleasure,” said his companion.</s>“Then we meet again at two o’clock. Au revoir, andgood-morning!” Weheardthestepsofourvisitorsdescendthestair andthebangofthefrontdoor. InaninstantHolmes hadchangedfromthelanguiddreamertothemanof action.</s>“Your hat and boots, Watson, quick! Not a mo- menttolose!”Herushedintohisroominhisdressing- gownandwasbackagaininafewsecondsinafrock- coat. We hurried together down the stairs and into the street. Dr. Mortimer and Baskerville were still visible about two hundred yards ahead of us in the directionofOxfordStreet.</s>“ShallIrunonandstopthem?” “Not for the world, my dear Watson. I am per- fectlysatisfiedwithyourcompanyifyouwilltolerate mine. Our friends are wise, for it is certainly a very finemorningforawalk.” Hequickenedhispaceuntilwehaddecreasedthe distancewhichdividedusbyabouthalf. Then, still keeping a hundred yards behind, we followed into OxfordStreetandsodownRegentStreet. Onceour friendsstoppedandstaredintoashopwindow,upon whichHolmesdidthesame. Aninstantafterwardshe gavealittlecryofsatisfaction,and,followingthedi- rectionofhiseagereyes,Isawthatahansomcabwith a man inside which had halted on the other side of thestreetwasnowproceedingslowlyonwardagain.</s>“There’s our man, Watson! Come along! We’ll haveagoodlookathim,ifwecandonomore.” AtthatinstantIwasawareofabushyblackbeard and a pair of piercing eyes turned upon us through the side window of the cab. Instantly the trapdoor at the top flew up, something was screamed to the driver,andthecabflewmadlyoffdownRegentStreet.</s>Holmes looked eagerly round for another, but no emptyonewasinsight. Thenhedashedinwildpur- suit amid the stream of the traffic, but the start was toogreat,andalreadythecabwasoutofsight.</s>“Therenow!”saidHolmesbitterlyasheemerged panting and white with vexation from the tide of vehicles. “Waseversuchbadluckandsuchbadman- agement,too? Watson,Watson,ifyouareanhonest man you will record this also and set it against my successes!” “Whowastheman?” “Ihavenotanidea.” “Aspy?” “Well, it was evident from what we have heard that Baskerville has been very closely shadowed by someonesincehehasbeenintown. Howelsecouldit beknownsoquicklythatitwastheNorthumberland Hotel which he had chosen? If they had followed himthefirstdayIarguedthattheywouldfollowhim alsothesecond. YoumayhaveobservedthatItwice strolledovertothewindowwhileDr.Mortimerwas readinghislegend.” “Yes,Iremember.” “Iwaslookingoutforloiterersinthestreet,butI sawnone. Wearedealingwithacleverman,Watson.</s>This matter cuts very deep, and though I have not finallymadeupmymindwhetheritisabenevolent or a malevolent agency which is in touch with us, I amconsciousalwaysofpoweranddesign. Whenour friends left I at once followed them in the hopes of markingdowntheirinvisibleattendant. Sowilywas hethathehadnottrustedhimselfuponfoot,buthe had availed himself of a cab so that he could loiter behindordashpastthemandsoescapetheirnotice.</s>Hismethodhadtheadditionaladvantagethatiftheyweretotakeacabhewasallreadytofollowthem. It has,however,oneobviousdisadvantage.” “Itputshiminthepowerofthecabman.” “Exactly.” “Whatapitywedidnotgetthenumber!” “My dear Watson, clumsy as I have been, you surelydonotseriouslyimaginethatIneglectedtoget thenumber? No.2704isourman. Butthatisnouse tousforthemoment.” “Ifailtoseehowyoucouldhavedonemore.” “On observing the cab I should have instantly turned and walked in the other direction. I should then at my leisure have hired a second cab and fol- lowedthefirstatarespectfuldistance,or,betterstill, havedriventotheNorthumberlandHotelandwaited there. WhenourunknownhadfollowedBaskerville home we should have had the opportunity of play- inghisowngameuponhimselfandseeingwherehe madefor. Asitis,byanindiscreeteagerness,which wastakenadvantageofwithextraordinaryquickness andenergybyouropponent,wehavebetrayedour- selvesandlostourman.” We had been sauntering slowly down Regent Street during this conversation, and Dr. Mortimer, withhiscompanion,hadlongvanishedinfrontofus.</s>“There is no object in our following them,” said Holmes. “Theshadowhasdepartedandwillnotre- turn. Wemustseewhatfurthercardswehaveinour handsandplaythemwithdecision. Couldyouswear tothatman’sfacewithinthecab?” “Icouldswearonlytothebeard.” “AndsocouldI—fromwhichIgatherthatinall probability it was a false one. A clever man upon so delicate an errand has no use for a beard save to concealhisfeatures. Comeinhere,Watson!” He turned into one of the district messenger of- fices,wherehewaswarmlygreetedbythemanager.</s>“Ah,Wilson,Iseeyouhavenotforgottenthelittle caseinwhichIhadthegoodfortunetohelpyou?” “No, sir, indeed I have not. You saved my good name,andperhapsmylife.” “My dear fellow, you exaggerate. I have some recollection,Wilson,thatyouhadamongyourboys a lad named Cartwright, who showed some ability duringtheinvestigation.” “Yes,sir,heisstillwithus.” “Could you ring him up?—thank you! And I should be glad to have change of this five-pound note.” A lad of fourteen, with a bright, keen face, had obeyedthesummonsofthemanager. Hestoodnow gazingwithgreatreverenceatthefamousdetective.</s>“Let me have the Hotel Directory,” said Holmes.</s>“Thankyou! Now,Cartwright,therearethenamesof twenty-threehotelshere,allintheimmediateneigh- bourhoodofCharingCross. Doyousee?” “Yes,sir.” “Youwillvisiteachoftheseinturn.” “Yes,sir.” “Youwillbeginineachcasebygivingtheoutside porteroneshilling. Herearetwenty-threeshillings.” “Yes,sir.” “Youwilltellhimthatyouwanttoseethewaste- paper of yesterday. You will say that an important telegramhasmiscarriedandthatyouarelookingfor it. Youunderstand?” “Yes,sir.” “Butwhatyouarereallylookingforisthecentre pageoftheTimeswithsomeholescutinitwithscis- sors. HereisacopyoftheTimes. Itisthispage. You couldeasilyrecognizeit,couldyounot?” “Yes,sir.” “Ineachcasetheoutsideporterwillsendforthe hall porter, to whom also you will give a shilling.</s>Here are twenty-three shillings. You will then learn inpossiblytwentycasesoutofthetwenty-threethat the waste of the day before has been burned or re- moved. In the three other cases you will be shown a heap of paper and you will look for this page of theTimesamongit. Theoddsareenormouslyagainst yourfindingit. Therearetenshillingsoverincaseof emergencies. Let me have a report by wire at Baker Street before evening. And now, Watson, it only re- mains for us to find out by wire the identity of the cabman,No.2704,andthenwewilldropintooneof the Bond Street picture galleries and fill in the time untilwearedueatthehotel.”CHAP hree rok T B SherlockHolmeshad,inaveryremarkablede- gree, the power of detaching his mind at will. For twohoursthestrangebusinessinwhichwehadbeen involved appeared to be forgotten, and he was en- tirelyabsorbedinthepicturesofthemodernBelgian masters. Hewouldtalkofnothingbutart,ofwhich hehadthecrudestideas,fromourleavingthegallery untilwefoundourselvesattheNorthumberlandHo- tel.</s>“SirHenryBaskervilleisupstairsexpectingyou,” saidtheclerk. “Heaskedmetoshowyouupatonce whenyoucame.” “Have you any objection to my looking at your register?”saidHolmes.</s>“Notintheleast.” Thebookshowedthattwonameshadbeenadded afterthatofBaskerville. OnewasTheophilusJohnson andfamily,ofNewcastle;theotherMrs.Oldmoreand maid,ofHighLodge,Alton.</s>“Surely that must be the same Johnson whom I usedtoknow,”saidHolmestotheporter. “Alawyer, ishenot,gray-headed,andwalkswithalimp?” “No,sir;thisisMr.Johnson,thecoal-owner,avery activegentleman,notolderthanyourself.” “Surelyyouaremistakenabouthistrade?” “No, sir! he has used this hotel for many years, andheisverywellknowntous.” “Ah,thatsettlesit. Mrs.Oldmore,too;Iseemto rememberthename. Excusemycuriosity,butoften incallingupononefriendonefindsanother.” “Sheisaninvalidlady,sir. Herhusbandwasonce mayor of Gloucester. She always comes to us when sheisintown.” “Thank you; I am afraid I cannot claim her ac- quaintance. We have established a most important fact by these questions, Watson,” he continued in a low voice as we went upstairs together. “We know now that the people who are so interested in our friendhavenotsettleddowninhisownhotel. That meansthatwhiletheyare,aswehaveseen,veryanx- ious to watch him, they are equally anxious that he shouldnotseethem. Now,thisisamostsuggestive fact.” “Whatdoesitsuggest?” “It suggests—halloa, my dear fellow, what on earthisthematter?” PTER V.</s>en hreads T As we came round the top of the stairs we had runupagainstSirHenryBaskervillehimself. Hisface wasflushedwithanger,andheheldanoldanddusty boot in one of his hands. So furious was he that he washardlyarticulate,andwhenhedidspeakitwas inamuchbroaderandmoreWesterndialectthanany whichwehadheardfromhiminthemorning.</s>“Seemstometheyareplayingmeforasuckerin thishotel,”hecried. “They’llfindthey’vestartedinto monkeywiththewrongmanunlesstheyarecareful.</s>By thunder, if that chap can’t find my missing boot therewillbetrouble. Icantakeajokewiththebest, Mr.Holmes,butthey’vegotabitoverthemarkthis time.” “Stilllookingforyourboot?” “Yes,sir,andmeantofindit.” “But, surely, you said that it was a new brown boot?” “Soitwas,sir. Andnowit’sanoldblackone.” “What! youdon’tmeantosay—?” “That’sjustwhatIdomeantosay. Ionlyhadthree pairsintheworld—thenewbrown,theoldblack,and the patent leathers, which I am wearing. Last night they took one of my brown ones, and to-day they havesneakedoneoftheblack. Well,haveyougotit? Speakout,man,anddon’tstandstaring!” An agitated German waiter had appeared upon thescene.</s>“No, sir; I have made inquiry all over the hotel, butIcanhearnowordofit.” “Well,eitherthatbootcomesbackbeforesundown or I’ll see the manager and tell him that I go right straightoutofthishotel.” “Itshallbefound,sir—Ipromiseyouthatifyou willhavealittlepatienceitwillbefound.” “Minditis,forit’sthelastthingofminethatI’ll lose in this den of thieves. Well, well, Mr. Holmes, you’llexcusemytroublingyouaboutsuchatrifle—” “Ithinkit’swellworthtroublingabout.” “Why,youlookveryseriousoverit.” “Howdoyouexplainit?” “I just don’t attempt to explain it. It seems the verymaddest,queerestthingthateverhappenedto me.” “Thequeerestperhaps—”saidHolmes,thought- fully.“Whatdoyoumakeofityourself?” “Well, I don’t profess to understand it yet. This caseofyoursisverycomplex,SirHenry. Whentaken inconjunctionwithyouruncle’sdeathIamnotsure thatofallthefivehundredcasesofcapitalimportance whichIhavehandledthereisonewhichcutssodeep.</s>But we hold several threads in our hands, and the odds are that one or other of them guides us to the truth. Wemaywastetimeinfollowingthewrongone, butsoonerorlaterwemustcomeupontheright.” We had a pleasant luncheon in which little was said of the business which had brought us together.</s>It was in the private sitting-room to which we after- wardsrepairedthatHolmesaskedBaskervillewhat werehisintentions.</s>“TogotoBaskervilleHall.” “Andwhen?” “Attheendoftheweek.” “Onthewhole,”saidHolmes,“Ithinkthatyour decisionisawiseone. Ihaveampleevidencethatyou arebeingdoggedinLondon,andamidthemillions of this great city it is difficult to discover who these peopleareorwhattheirobjectcanbe. Iftheirinten- tions are evil they might do you a mischief, and we shouldbepowerlesstopreventit. Youdidnotknow, Dr. Mortimer, that you were followed this morning frommyhouse?” Dr.Mortimerstartedviolently.</s>“Followed! Bywhom?” “That, unfortunately, is what I cannot tell you.</s>Haveyouamongyourneighboursoracquaintances onDartmooranymanwithablack,fullbeard?” “No—or, let me see—why, yes. Barrymore, Sir Charles’sbutler,isamanwithafull,blackbeard.” “Ha! WhereisBarrymore?” “HeisinchargeoftheHall.” “Wehadbestascertainifheisreallythere,orifby anypossibilityhemightbeinLondon.” “Howcanyoudothat?” “Give me a telegraph form. ‘Is all ready for Sir Henry?’ That will do. Address to Mr. Barrymore, BaskervilleHall. Whatisthenearesttelegraph-office? Grimpen. Verygood,wewillsendasecondwireto thepostmaster,Grimpen: ‘TelegramtoMr.Barrymore to be delivered into his own hand. If absent, please return wire to Sir Henry Baskerville, Northumber- landHotel.’ Thatshouldletusknowbeforeevening whether Barrymore is at his post in Devonshire or not.” “That’s so,” said Baskerville. “By the way, Dr.</s>Mortimer,whoisthisBarrymore,anyhow?” “He is the son of the old caretaker, who is dead.</s>TheyhavelookedaftertheHallforfourgenerations now. So far as I know, he and his wife are as re- spectableacoupleasanyinthecounty.” “At the same time,” said Baskerville, “it’s clear enoughthatsolongastherearenoneofthefamilyat the Hall these people have a mighty fine home and nothingtodo.” “Thatistrue.” “DidBarrymoreprofitatallbySirCharles’swill?” askedHolmes.</s>“Heandhiswifehadfivehundredpoundseach.” “Ha! Didtheyknowthattheywouldreceivethis?” “Yes; Sir Charles was very fond of talking about theprovisionsofhiswill.” “Thatisveryinteresting.” “Ihope,”saidDr.Mortimer,“thatyoudonotlook withsuspiciouseyesuponeveryonewhoreceiveda legacy from Sir Charles, for I also had a thousand poundslefttome.” “Indeed! Andanyoneelse?” “Thereweremanyinsignificantsumstoindivid- uals, and a large number of public charities. The residueallwenttoSirHenry.” “Andhowmuchwastheresidue?” “Sevenhundredandfortythousandpounds.” Holmesraisedhiseyebrowsinsurprise. “Ihadno ideathatsogiganticasumwasinvolved,”saidhe.</s>“SirCharleshadthereputationofbeingrich,but wedidnotknowhowveryrichhewasuntilwecame toexaminehissecurities. Thetotalvalueoftheestate wascloseontoamillion.” “Dearme! Itisastakeforwhichamanmightwell play a desperate game. And one more question, Dr.</s>Mortimer. Supposingthatanythinghappenedtoour young friend here—you will forgive the unpleasant hypothesis!—whowouldinherittheestate?” “SinceRodgerBaskerville,SirCharles’syounger brother died unmarried, the estate would descend to the Desmonds, who are distant cousins. James DesmondisanelderlyclergymaninWestmoreland.” “Thankyou. Thesedetailsareallofgreatinterest.</s>HaveyoumetMr.JamesDesmond?” “Yes;heoncecamedowntovisitSirCharles. He isamanofvenerableappearanceandofsaintlylife.</s>Irememberthatherefusedtoacceptanysettlement fromSirCharles,thoughhepressedituponhim.”“Andthismanofsimpletasteswouldbetheheir toSirCharles’sthousands.” “He would be the heir to the estate because that is entailed. He would also be the heir to the money unlessitwerewilledotherwisebythepresentowner, whocan,ofcourse,dowhathelikeswithit.” “Andhaveyoumadeyourwill,SirHenry?” “No, Mr. Holmes, I have not. I’ve had no time, foritwasonlyyesterdaythatIlearnedhowmatters stood. But in any case I feel that the money should gowiththetitleandestate. Thatwasmypooruncle’s idea. Howistheownergoingtorestorethegloriesof theBaskervillesifhehasnotmoneyenoughtokeep up the property? House, land, and dollars must go together.” “Quiteso. Well,SirHenry,Iamofonemindwith youastotheadvisabilityofyourgoingdowntoDe- vonshirewithoutdelay. Thereisonlyoneprovision whichImustmake. Youcertainlymustnotgoalone.” “Dr.Mortimerreturnswithme.” “But Dr. Mortimer has his practice to attend to, andhishouseismilesawayfromyours. Withallthe goodwillintheworldhemaybeunabletohelpyou.</s>No, Sir Henry, you must take with you someone, a trustyman,whowillbealwaysbyyourside.” “Is it possible that you could come yourself, Mr.</s>Holmes?” “IfmatterscametoacrisisIshouldendeavourto be present in person; but you can understand that, with my extensive consulting practice and with the constantappealswhichreachmefrommanyquarters, itisimpossibleformetobeabsentfromLondonfor an indefinite time. At the present instant one of the mostreverednamesinEnglandisbeingbesmirched by a blackmailer, and only I can stop a disastrous scandal. Youwillseehowimpossibleitisformeto gotoDartmoor.” “Whomwouldyourecommend,then?” Holmeslaidhishanduponmyarm.</s>“Ifmyfriendwouldundertakeitthereisnoman whoisbetterworthhavingatyoursidewhenyouare inatightplace. Noonecansaysomoreconfidently thanI.” Thepropositiontookmecompletelybysurprise, but before I had time to answer, Baskerville seized mebythehandandwrungitheartily.</s>“Well,now,thatisrealkindofyou,Dr.Watson,” said he. “You see how it is with me, and you know just as much about the matter as I do. If you will come down to Baskerville Hall and see me through I’llneverforgetit.” The promise of adventure had always a fascina- tionforme,andIwascomplimentedbythewordsof Holmesandbytheeagernesswithwhichthebaronet hailedmeasacompanion.</s>“Iwillcome,withpleasure,”saidI.“Idonotknow howIcouldemploymytimebetter.” “Andyouwillreportverycarefullytome,”said Holmes. “When a crisis comes, as it will do, I will directhowyoushallact. IsupposethatbySaturday allmightbeready?” “WouldthatsuitDr.Watson?” “Perfectly.” “ThenonSaturday,unlessyouheartothecontrary, weshallmeetatthe10.30trainfromPaddington.” We had risen to depart when Baskerville gave a cry,oftriumph,anddivingintooneofthecornersof theroomhedrewabrownbootfromunderacabinet.</s>“Mymissingboot!”hecried.</s>“May all our difficulties vanish as easily!” said SherlockHolmes.</s>“But it is a very singular thing,” Dr. Mortimer remarked. “I searched this room carefully before lunch.” “And so did I,” said Baskerville. “Every inch of it.” “Therewascertainlynobootinitthen.” “Inthatcasethewaitermusthaveplaceditthere whilewewerelunching.” TheGermanwassentforbutprofessedtoknow nothingofthematter,norcouldanyinquiryclearit up. Another item had been added to that constant andapparentlypurposelessseriesofsmallmysteries which had succeeded each other so rapidly. Setting aside the whole grim story of Sir Charles’s death, wehadalineofinexplicableincidentsallwithinthe limitsoftwodays,whichincludedthereceiptofthe printed letter, the black-bearded spy in the hansom, the loss of the new brown boot, the loss of the old blackboot,andnowthereturnofthenewbrownboot.</s>Holmessatinsilenceinthecabaswedrovebackto BakerStreet,andIknewfromhisdrawnbrowsand keen face that his mind, like my own, was busy in endeavouring to frame some scheme into which all thesestrangeandapparentlydisconnectedepisodes couldbefitted. Allafternoonandlateintotheevening hesatlostintobaccoandthought.</s>Justbeforedinnertwotelegramswerehandedin.</s>Thefirstran:Have just heard that Barrymore is at the Hall.</s>—Baskerville.</s>Thesecond: Visitedtwenty-threehotelsasdirected,but sorrytoreportunabletotracecutsheetof Times.</s>—Cartwright.</s>“There go two of my threads, Watson. There is nothing more stimulating than a case where every- thing goes against you. We must cast round for an- otherscent.” “Wehavestillthecabmanwhodrovethespy.” “Exactly. Ihavewiredtogethisnameandaddress fromtheOfficialRegistry. Ishouldnotbesurprised ifthiswereananswertomyquestion.” Theringatthebellprovedtobesomethingeven more satisfactory than an answer, however, for the dooropenedandarough-lookingfellowenteredwho wasevidentlythemanhimself.</s>“Igotamessagefromtheheadofficethatagent atthisaddresshadbeeninquiringfor2704,”saidhe.</s>“I’vedrivenmycabthissevenyearsandneveraword of complaint. I came here straight from the Yard to askyoutoyourfacewhatyouhadagainstme.” “Ihavenothingintheworldagainstyou,mygood man,” said Holmes. “On the contrary, I have half a sovereignforyouifyouwillgivemeaclearanswer tomyquestions.” “Well,I’vehadagooddayandnomistake,”said thecabman,withagrin. “Whatwasityouwantedto ask,sir?” “Firstofallyournameandaddress,incaseIwant youagain.” “JohnClayton,3TurpeyStreet,theBorough. My cabisoutofShipley’sYard,nearWaterlooStation.” SherlockHolmesmadeanoteofit.</s>“Now,Clayton,tellmeallaboutthefarewhocame and watched this house at ten o’clock this morning and afterwards followed the two gentlemen down RegentStreet.” Themanlookedsurprisedandalittleembarrassed.</s>“Why,there’snogoodmytellingyouthings,foryou seemtoknowasmuchasIdoalready,”saidhe. “The truth is that the gentleman told me that he was a detectiveandthatIwastosaynothingabouthimto anyone.” “My good fellow, this is a very serious business, andyoumayfindyourselfinaprettybadpositionif youtrytohideanythingfromme. Yousaythatyour faretoldyouthathewasadetective?” “Yes,hedid.” “Whendidhesaythis?” “Whenheleftme.” “Didhesayanythingmore?” “Hementionedhisname.” Holmescastaswiftglanceoftriumphatme. “Oh, hementionedhisname,didhe? Thatwasimprudent.</s>Whatwasthenamethathementioned?” “Hisname,”saidthecabman,“wasMr.Sherlock Holmes.” Never have I seen my friend more completely taken aback than by the cabman’s reply. For an in- stanthesatinsilentamazement. Thenheburstintoa heartylaugh.</s>“Atouch,Watson—anundeniabletouch!”saidhe.</s>“Ifeelafoilasquickandsuppleasmyown. Hegot home upon me very prettily that time. So his name wasSherlockHolmes,wasit?” “Yes,sir,thatwasthegentleman’sname.” “Excellent! Tellmewhereyoupickedhimupand allthatoccurred.” “Hehailedmeathalf-pastnineinTrafalgarSquare.</s>He said that he was a detective, and he offered me twoguineasifIwoulddoexactlywhathewantedall dayandasknoquestions. Iwasgladenoughtoagree.</s>First we drove down to the Northumberland Hotel andwaitedthereuntiltwogentlemencameoutand tookacabfromtherank. Wefollowedtheircabuntil itpulledupsomewherenearhere.” “Thisverydoor,”saidHolmes.</s>“Well,Icouldn’tbesureofthat,butIdaresaymy fareknewallaboutit. Wepulleduphalf-waydown the street and waited an hour and a half. Then the twogentlemenpassedus,walking,andwefollowed downBakerStreetandalong—” “Iknow,”saidHolmes.</s>“Untilwegotthree-quartersdownRegentStreet.</s>Thenmygentlemanthrewupthetrap,andhecried thatIshoulddriverightawaytoWaterlooStationas hard as I could go. I whipped up the mare and we were there under the ten minutes. Then he paid up histwoguineas,likeagoodone,andawayhewent intothestation. Onlyjustashewasleavingheturned roundandhesaid: ‘Itmightinterestyoutoknowthat youhavebeendrivingMr.SherlockHolmes.’ That’s howIcometoknowthename.”“Isee. Andyousawnomoreofhim?” “Notafterhewentintothestation.” “And how would you describe Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” Thecabmanscratchedhishead. “Well,hewasn’t altogether such an easy gentleman to describe. I’d puthimatfortyyearsofage,andhewasofamiddle height,twoorthreeinchesshorterthanyou,sir. He wasdressedlikeatoff,andhehadablackbeard,cut squareattheend,andapaleface. Idon’tknowasI couldsaymorethanthat.” “Colourofhiseyes?” “No,Ican’tsaythat.” “Nothingmorethatyoucanremember?” “No,sir;nothing.” “Well, then, here is your half-sovereign. There’s anotheronewaitingforyouifyoucanbringanymore information. Goodnight!” “Goodnight,sir,andthankyou!” CHAP askerv B Sir Henry Baskerville and Dr. Mortimer were readyupontheappointedday,andwestartedasar- ranged for Devonshire. Mr. Sherlock Holmes drove with me to the station and gave me his last parting injunctionsandadvice.</s>“Iwillnotbiasyourmindbysuggestingtheories orsuspicions, Watson,”saidhe; “Iwishyousimply to report facts in the fullest possible manner to me, andyoucanleavemetodothetheorizing.” “Whatsortoffacts?”Iasked.</s>“Anything which may seem to have a bearing howeverindirectuponthecase,andespeciallythere- lationsbetweenyoungBaskervilleandhisneighbours or any fresh particulars concerning the death of Sir Charles. Ihavemadesomeinquiriesmyselfinthelast few days, but the results have, I fear, been negative.</s>Onethingonlyappearstobecertain,andthatisthat Mr.JamesDesmond,whoisthenextheir,isanelderly gentlemanofaveryamiabledisposition,sothatthis John Clayton departed chuckling, and Holmes turned to me with a shrug of his shoulders and a ruefulsmile.</s>“Snap goes our third thread, and we end where we began,” said he. “The cunning rascal! He knew our number, knew that Sir Henry Baskerville had consulted me, spotted who I was in Regent Street, conjecturedthatIhadgotthenumberofthecaband wouldlaymyhandsonthedriver,andsosentback thisaudaciousmessage. Itellyou,Watson,thistime wehavegotafoemanwhoisworthyofoursteel. I’ve been checkmated in London. I can only wish you better luck in Devonshire. But I’m not easy in my mindaboutit.” “Aboutwhat?” “About sending you. It’s an ugly business, Wat- son,anuglydangerousbusiness,andthemoreIsee of it the less I like it. Yes, my dear fellow, you may laugh, but I give you my word that I shall be very gladtohaveyoubacksafeandsoundinBakerStreet oncemore.” TER VI.</s>lle all H persecution does not arise from him. I really think that we may eliminate him entirely from our calcu- lations. There remain the people who will actually surroundSirHenryBaskervilleuponthemoor.” “Would it not be well in the first place to get rid ofthisBarrymorecouple?” “Bynomeans. Youcouldnotmakeagreatermis- take. Iftheyareinnocentitwouldbeacruelinjustice, and if they are guilty we should be giving up all chanceofbringingithometothem. No,no,wewill preservethemuponourlistofsuspects. Thenthere is a groom at the Hall, if I remember right. There are two moorland farmers. There is our friend Dr.</s>Mortimer,whomIbelievetobeentirelyhonest,and thereishiswife,ofwhomweknownothing. Thereis thisnaturalist,Stapleton,andthereishissister,who issaidtobeayoungladyofattractions. ThereisMr.</s>Frankland, of Lafter Hall, who is also an unknown factor, and there are one or two other neighbours.These are the folk who must be your very special study.” “Iwilldomybest.” “Youhavearms,Isuppose?” “Yes,Ithoughtitaswelltotakethem.” “Mostcertainly. Keepyourrevolvernearyounight andday,andneverrelaxyourprecautions.” Ourfriendshadalreadysecuredafirst-classcar- riageandwerewaitingforusupontheplatform.</s>“No,wehavenonewsofanykind,”saidDr.Mor- timerinanswertomyfriend’squestions. “Icanswear toonething,andthatisthatwehavenotbeenshad- owedduringthelasttwodays. Wehavenevergone outwithoutkeepingasharpwatch,andnoonecould haveescapedournotice.” “Youhavealwayskepttogether,Ipresume?” “Exceptyesterdayafternoon. Iusuallygiveupone day to pure amusement when I come to town, so I spentitattheMuseumoftheCollegeofSurgeons.” “AndIwenttolookatthefolkinthepark,”said Baskerville. “Butwehadnotroubleofanykind.” “It was imprudent, all the same,” said Holmes, shakinghisheadandlookingverygrave. “Ibeg,Sir Henry,thatyouwillnotgoaboutalone. Somegreat misfortunewillbefallyouifyoudo. Didyougetyour otherboot?” “No,sir,itisgoneforever.” “Indeed. Thatisveryinteresting. Well,good-bye,” he added as the train began to glide down the plat- form. “Bearinmind,SirHenry,oneofthephrasesin that queer old legend which Dr. Mortimer has read tous,andavoidthemoorinthosehoursofdarkness whenthepowersofevilareexalted.” Ilookedbackattheplatformwhenwehadleftit farbehind,andsawthetall,austerefigureofHolmes standingmotionlessandgazingafterus.</s>The journey was a swift and pleasant one, and I spent it in making the more intimate acquaintance ofmytwocompanionsandinplayingwithDr.Mor- timer’sspaniel. Inaveryfewhoursthebrownearth had become ruddy, the brick had changed to gran- ite,andredcowsgrazedinwell-hedgedfieldswhere thelushgrassesandmoreluxuriantvegetationspoke of a richer, if a damper, climate. Young Baskerville stared eagerly out of the window, and cried aloud withdelightasherecognizedthefamiliarfeaturesof theDevonscenery.</s>“I’ve been over a good part of the world since I leftit,Dr.Watson,”saidhe;“butIhaveneverseena placetocomparewithit.” “IneversawaDevonshiremanwhodidnotswear byhiscounty,”Iremarked.</s>“Itdependsuponthebreedofmenquiteasmuch as on the county,” said Dr. Mortimer. “A glance at our friend here reveals the rounded head of the Celt,whichcarriesinsideittheCelticenthusiasmand power of attachment. Poor Sir Charles’s head was of a very rare type, half Gaelic, half Ivernian in its characteristics. But you were very young when you lastsawBaskervilleHall,wereyounot?” “I was a boy in my ’teens at the time of my fa- ther’sdeath,andhadneverseentheHall,forhelived inalittlecottageontheSouthCoast. ThenceIwent straight to a friend in America. I tell you it is all as newtomeasitistoDr.Watson,andI’maskeenas possibletoseethemoor.” “Are you? Then your wish is easily granted, for there is your first sight of the moor,” said Dr. Mor- timer,pointingoutofthecarriagewindow.</s>Over the green squares of the fields and the low curve of a wood there rose in the distance a gray, melancholyhill,withastrangejaggedsummit,dim and vague in the distance, like some fantastic land- scapeinadream. Baskervillesatforalongtime,his eyesfixeduponit,andIreaduponhiseagerfacehow muchitmeanttohim,thisfirstsightofthatstrange spot where the men of his blood had held sway so longandlefttheirmarksodeep. Therehesat,with histweedsuitandhisAmericanaccent,inthecorner of a prosaic railway-carriage, and yet as I looked at hisdarkandexpressivefaceIfeltmorethaneverhow true a descendant he was of that long line of high- blooded,fiery,andmasterfulmen. Therewerepride, valour,andstrengthinhisthickbrows,hissensitive nostrils, and his large hazel eyes. If on that forbid- dingmooradifficultanddangerousquestshouldlie beforeus,thiswasatleastacomradeforwhomone mightventuretotakeariskwiththecertaintythathe wouldbravelyshareit.</s>Thetrainpulledupatasmallwaysidestationand we all descended. Outside, beyond the low, white fence, a wagonette with a pair of cobs was waiting.</s>Ourcomingwasevidentlyagreatevent,forstation- master and porters clustered round us to carry out our luggage. It was a sweet, simple country spot, butIwassurprisedtoobservethatbythegatethere stoodtwosoldierlymenindarkuniforms,wholeaned upontheirshortriflesandglancedkeenlyatusaswepassed. The coachman, a hard-faced, gnarled little fellow, saluted Sir Henry Baskerville, and in a few minuteswewereflyingswiftlydownthebroad,white road. Rollingpasturelandscurvedupwardoneither side of us, and old gabled houses peeped out from amidthethickgreenfoliage,butbehindthepeaceful andsunlitcountry-sidethereroseever,darkagainst theeveningsky,thelong,gloomycurveofthemoor, brokenbythejaggedandsinisterhills.</s>Thewagonetteswungroundintoasideroad,and wecurvedupwardthroughdeeplaneswornbycen- turies of wheels, high banks on either side, heavy with dripping moss and fleshy hart’s-tongue ferns.</s>Bronzing bracken and mottled bramble gleamed in the light of the sinking sun. Still steadily rising, we passed over a narrow granite bridge, and skirted a noisy stream which gushed swiftly down, foaming and roaring amid the gray boulders. Both road and streamwoundupthroughavalleydensewithscrub oak and fir. At every turn Baskerville gave an ex- clamationofdelight,lookingeagerlyabouthimand asking countless questions. To his eyes all seemed beautiful, buttomeatingeofmelancholylayupon the country-side, which bore so clearly the mark of thewaningyear. Yellowleavescarpetedthelanesand fluttered down upon us as we passed. The rattle of ourwheelsdiedawayaswedrovethroughdriftsof rottingvegetation—sadgifts,asitseemedtome,for Naturetothrowbeforethecarriageofthereturning heiroftheBaskervilles.</s>“Halloa!”criedDr.Mortimer,“whatisthis?” Asteepcurveofheath-cladland,anoutlyingspur ofthemoor,layinfrontofus. Onthesummit,hard andclearlikeanequestrianstatueuponitspedestal, wasamountedsoldier,darkandstern,hisriflepoised ready over his forearm. He was watching the road alongwhichwetravelled.</s>“Whatisthis,Perkins?”askedDr.Mortimer.</s>Ourdriverhalfturnedinhisseat.</s>“There’s a convict escaped from Princetown, sir.</s>He’sbeenoutthreedaysnow,andthewarderswatch everyroadandeverystation,butthey’vehadnosight of him yet. The farmers about here don’t like it, sir, andthat’safact.” “Well, I understand that they get five pounds if theycangiveinformation.” “Yes, sir, but the chance of five pounds is but a poor thing compared to the chance of having your throatcut. Yousee,itisn’tlikeanyordinaryconvict.</s>Thisisamanthatwouldstickatnothing.” “Whoishe,then?” “ItisSelden,theNottingHillmurderer.” I remembered the case well, for it was one in whichHolmeshadtakenaninterestonaccountofthe peculiarferocityofthecrimeandthewantonbrutality whichhadmarkedalltheactionsoftheassassin. The commutationofhisdeathsentencehadbeendueto some doubts as to his complete sanity, so atrocious was his conduct. Our wagonette had topped a rise andinfrontofusrosethehugeexpanseofthemoor, mottledwithgnarledandcraggycairnsandtors. A cold wind swept down from it and set us shivering.</s>Somewherethere,onthatdesolateplain,waslurking thisfiendishman,hidinginaburrowlikeawildbeast, his heart full of malignancy against the whole race which had cast him out. It needed but this to com- pletethegrimsuggestivenessofthebarrenwaste,the chillingwind,andthedarklingsky. EvenBaskerville fellsilentandpulledhisovercoatmorecloselyaround him.</s>Wehadleftthefertilecountrybehindandbeneath us. Welookedbackonitnow,theslantingraysofa low sun turning the streams to threads of gold and glowingontheredearthnewturnedbytheplough andthebroadtangleofthewoodlands. Theroadin frontofusgrewbleakerandwilderoverhugerusset andoliveslopes,sprinkledwithgiantboulders. Now andthenwepassedamoorlandcottage,walledand roofedwithstone,withnocreepertobreakitsharsh outline. Suddenly we looked down into a cup-like depression,patchedwithstuntedoaksandfirswhich had been twisted and bent by the fury of years of storm. Two high, narrow towers rose over the trees.</s>Thedriverpointedwithhiswhip.</s>“BaskervilleHall,”saidhe.</s>Itsmasterhadrisenandwasstaringwithflushed cheeksandshiningeyes. Afewminuteslaterwehad reached the lodge-gates, a maze of fantastic tracery inwroughtiron,withweather-bittenpillarsoneither side, blotched with lichens, and surmounted by the boars’headsoftheBaskervilles. Thelodgewasaruin ofblackgraniteandbaredribsofrafters,butfacingit wasanewbuilding,halfconstructed,thefirstfruitof SirCharles’sSouthAfricangold.</s>Throughthegatewaywepassedintotheavenue, wherethewheelswereagainhushedamidtheleaves, and the old trees shot their branches in a sombre tunnel over our heads. Baskerville shuddered as he looked up the long, dark drive to where the house glimmeredlikeaghostatthefartherend.</s>“Wasithere?”heaskedinalowvoice.</s>“No,no,theYewAlleyisontheotherside.”Theyoungheirglancedroundwithagloomyface.</s>“It’s no wonder my uncle felt as if trouble were comingonhiminsuchaplaceasthis,”saidhe. “It’s enough to scare any man. I’ll have a row of electric lamps up here inside of six months, and you won’t know it again, with a thousand candle-power Swan andEdisonrighthereinfrontofthehalldoor.” Theavenueopenedintoabroadexpanseofturf, and the house lay before us. In the fading light I couldseethatthecentrewasaheavyblockofbuild- ing from which a porch projected. The whole front was draped in ivy, with a patch clipped bare here and there where a window or a coat-of-arms broke through the dark veil. From this central block rose thetwintowers,ancient,crenelated,andpiercedwith manyloopholes. Torightandleftoftheturretswere more modern wings of black granite. A dull light shonethroughheavymullionedwindows,andfrom the high chimneys which rose from the steep, high- angled roof there sprang a single black column of smoke.</s>“Welcome, Sir Henry! Welcome to Baskerville Hall!” A tall man had stepped from the shadow of the porchtoopenthedoorofthewagonette. Thefigure ofawomanwassilhouettedagainsttheyellowlight ofthehall. Shecameoutandhelpedthemantohand downourbags.</s>“You don’t mind my driving straight home, Sir Henry?” said Dr. Mortimer. “My wife is expecting me.” “Surelyyouwillstayandhavesomedinner?” “No,Imustgo. Ishallprobablyfindsomework awaitingme. Iwouldstaytoshowyouoverthehouse, butBarrymorewillbeabetterguidethanI.Good-bye, andneverhesitatenightordaytosendformeifIcan beofservice.” The wheels died away down the drive while Sir HenryandIturnedintothehall,andthedoorclanged heavilybehindus. Itwasafineapartmentinwhich wefoundourselves,large,lofty,andheavilyraftered with huge balks of age-blackened oak. In the great old-fashioned fireplace behind the high iron dogs a log-firecrackledandsnapped. SirHenryandIheld outourhandstoit,forwewerenumbfromourlong drive. Thenwegazedroundusatthehigh,thinwin- dowofoldstainedglass,theoakpanelling,thestags’ heads,thecoats-of-armsuponthewalls,alldimand sombreinthesubduedlightofthecentrallamp.</s>“It’s just as I imagined it,” said Sir Henry. “Is it nottheverypictureofanoldfamilyhome? Tothink that this should be the same hall in which for five hundred years my people have lived. It strikes me solemntothinkofit.” I saw his dark face lit up with a boyish enthu- siasm as he gazed about him. The light beat upon himwherehestood,butlongshadowstraileddown the walls and hung like a black canopy above him.</s>Barrymorehadreturnedfromtakingourluggageto our rooms. He stood in front of us now with the subdued manner of a well-trained servant. He was a remarkable-looking man, tall, handsome, with a squareblackbeardandpale,distinguishedfeatures.</s>“Wouldyouwishdinnertobeservedatonce,sir?” “Isitready?” “Inaveryfewminutes,sir. Youwillfindhotwater inyourrooms. MywifeandIwillbehappy,SirHenry, to stay with you until you have made your fresh ar- rangements,butyouwillunderstandthatunderthe newconditionsthishousewillrequireaconsiderable staff.” “Whatnewconditions?” “I only meant, sir, that Sir Charles led a very re- tired life, and we were able to look after his wants.</s>You would, naturally, wish to have more company, andsoyouwillneedchangesinyourhousehold.” “Do you mean that your wife and you wish to leave?” “Onlywhenitisquiteconvenienttoyou,sir.” “But your family have been with us for several generations,havetheynot? Ishouldbesorrytobegin mylifeherebybreakinganoldfamilyconnection.” Iseemedtodiscernsomesignsofemotionupon thebutler’swhiteface.</s>“Ifeelthatalso, sir, andsodoesmywife. Butto tellthetruth,sir,wewerebothverymuchattachedto SirCharles,andhisdeathgaveusashockandmade thesesurroundingsverypainfultous. Ifearthatwe shallneveragainbeeasyinourmindsatBaskerville Hall.” “Butwhatdoyouintendtodo?” “Ihavenodoubt,sir,thatweshallsucceedines- tablishing ourselves in some business. Sir Charles’s generosityhasgivenusthemeanstodoso. Andnow, sir,perhapsIhadbestshowyoutoyourrooms.” A square balustraded gallery ran round the top of the old hall, approached by a double stair. From this central point two long corridors extended the wholelengthofthebuilding,fromwhichallthebed- rooms opened. My own was in the same wing as Baskerville’sandalmostnextdoortoit. Theseroomsappearedtobemuchmoremodernthanthecentral partofthehouse,andthebrightpaperandnumerous candlesdidsomethingtoremovethesombreimpres- sionwhichourarrivalhadleftuponmymind.</s>Butthedining-roomwhichopenedoutofthehall wasaplaceofshadowandgloom. Itwasalongcham- berwithastepseparatingthedaiswherethefamily sat from the lower portion reserved for their depen- dents. At one end a minstrel’s gallery overlooked it. Black beams shot across above our heads, with a smoke-darkenedceilingbeyondthem. Withrowsof flaringtorchestolightitup,andthecolourandrude hilarityofanold-timebanquet,itmighthavesoftened; butnow,whentwoblack-clothedgentlemensatinthe little circle of light thrown by a shaded lamp, one’s voice became hushed and one’s spirit subdued. A dimlineofancestors,ineveryvarietyofdress,from the Elizabethan knight to the buck of the Regency, stareddownuponusanddauntedusbytheirsilent company. We talked little, and I for one was glad when the meal was over and we were able to retire intothemodernbilliard-roomandsmokeacigarette.</s>“Myword,itisn’taverycheerfulplace,”saidSir Henry. “Isupposeonecantonedowntoit,butIfeel abitoutofthepictureatpresent. Idon’twonderthat my uncle got a little jumpy if he lived all alone in suchahouseasthis. However,ifitsuitsyou,wewill CHAPT he tapletons o T S The fresh beauty of the following morning did something to efface from our minds the grim and gray impression which had been left upon both of usbyourfirstexperienceofBaskervilleHall. AsSir Henry and I sat at breakfast the sunlight flooded in throughthehighmullionedwindows,throwingwa- terypatchesofcolourfromthecoatsofarmswhich coveredthem. Thedarkpanellingglowedlikebronze in the golden rays, and it was hard to realize that thiswasindeedthechamberwhichhadstrucksucha gloomintooursoulsupontheeveningbefore.</s>“Iguessitisourselvesandnotthehousethatwe havetoblame!”saidthebaronet. “Weweretiredwith our journey and chilled by our drive, so we took a retire early to-night, and perhaps things may seem morecheerfulinthemorning.” I drew aside my curtains before I went to bed and looked out from my window. It opened upon the grassy space which lay in front of the hall door.</s>Beyond, two copses of trees moaned and swung in a rising wind. A half moon broke through the rifts of racing clouds. In its cold light I saw beyond the treesabrokenfringeofrocks,andthelong,lowcurve ofthemelancholymoor. Iclosedthecurtain,feeling thatmylastimpressionwasinkeepingwiththerest.</s>Andyetitwasnotquitethelast. Ifoundmyself wearyandyetwakeful,tossingrestlesslyfromsideto side,seekingforthesleepwhichwouldnotcome. Far away a chiming clock struck out the quarters of the hours, but otherwise a deathly silence lay upon the oldhouse. Andthensuddenly,intheverydeadofthe night,therecameasoundtomyears,clear,resonant, and unmistakable. It was the sob of a woman, the muffled, strangling gasp of one who is torn by an uncontrollable sorrow. I sat up in bed and listened intently. Thenoisecouldnothavebeenfarawayand wascertainlyinthehouse. ForhalfanhourIwaited witheverynerveonthealert,buttherecamenoother soundsavethechimingclockandtherustleoftheivy onthewall.</s>TER VII.</s>f erripit ouse M H grayviewoftheplace. Nowwearefreshandwell,so itisallcheerfuloncemore.” “And yet it was not entirely a question of imagi- nation,”Ianswered. “Didyou,forexample,happen to hear someone, a woman I think, sobbing in the night?” “Thatiscurious,forIdidwhenIwashalfasleep fancythatIheardsomethingofthesort. Iwaitedquite a time, but there was no more of it, so I concluded thatitwasalladream.” “I heard it distinctly, and I am sure that it was reallythesobofawoman.” “Wemustaskaboutthisrightaway.”Herangthe bellandaskedBarrymorewhetherhecouldaccountfor our experience. It seemed to me that the pallid featuresofthebutlerturnedashadepalerstillashe listenedtohismaster’squestion.</s>“There are only two women in the house, Sir Henry,”heanswered. “Oneisthescullery-maid,who sleepsintheotherwing. Theotherismywife,andI cananswerforitthatthesoundcouldnothavecome fromher.” And yet he lied as he said it, for it chanced that afterbreakfastImetMrs.Barrymoreinthelongcorri- dorwiththesunfulluponherface. Shewasalarge, impassive, heavy-featured woman with a stern set expressionofmouth. Buthertell-taleeyeswerered andglancedatmefrombetweenswollenlids. Itwas she, then, who wept in the night, and if she did so herhusbandmustknowit. Yethehadtakentheob- vious risk of discovery in declaring that it was not so. Why had he done this? And why did she weep so bitterly? Already round this pale-faced, hand- some,black-beardedmantherewasgatheringanat- mosphere of mystery and of gloom. It was he who hadbeenthefirsttodiscoverthebodyofSirCharles, and we had only his word for all the circumstances whichleduptotheoldman’sdeath. Wasitpossible that it was Barrymore after all whom we had seen in the cab in Regent Street? The beard might well have been the same. The cabman had described a somewhatshorterman,butsuchanimpressionmight easily have been erroneous. How could I settle the pointforever? Obviouslythefirstthingtodowasto see the Grimpen postmaster, and find whether the testtelegramhadreallybeenplacedinBarrymore’s ownhands. Betheanswerwhatitmight,Ishouldat leasthavesomethingtoreporttoSherlockHolmes.</s>SirHenryhadnumerouspaperstoexamineafter breakfast,sothatthetimewaspropitiousformyex- cursion. It was a pleasant walk of four miles along the edge of the moor, leading me at last to a small gray hamlet, in which two larger buildings, which provedtobetheinnandthehouseofDr.Mortimer, stoodhighabovetherest. Thepostmaster,whowas alsothevillagegrocer,hadaclearrecollectionofthe telegram.</s>“Certainly,sir,”saidhe,“Ihadthetelegramdeliv- eredtoMr.Barrymoreexactlyasdirected.” “Whodeliveredit?” “Myboyhere. James,youdeliveredthattelegram toMr.BarrymoreattheHalllastweek,didyounot?” “Yes,father,Ideliveredit.” “Intohisownhands?”Iasked.</s>“Well, he was up in the loft at the time, so that I couldnotputitintohisownhands,butIgaveitinto Mrs.Barrymore’shands,andshepromisedtodeliver itatonce.” “DidyouseeMr.Barrymore?” “No,sir;Itellyouhewasintheloft.” “Ifyoudidn’tseehim,howdoyouknowhewas intheloft?” “Well,surelyhisownwifeoughttoknowwhere heis,”saidthepostmastertestily. “Didn’thegetthe telegram? If there is any mistake it is for Mr. Barry- morehimselftocomplain.” Itseemedhopelesstopursuetheinquiryanyfar- ther, but it was clear that in spite of Holmes’s ruse wehadnoproofthatBarrymorehadnotbeeninLon- don all the time. Suppose that it were so—suppose that the same man had been the last who had seen Sir Charles alive, and the first to dog the new heir whenhereturnedtoEngland. Whatthen? Washethe agentofothersorhadhesomesinisterdesignofhis own? Whatinterestcouldhehaveinpersecutingthe Baskervillefamily? Ithoughtofthestrangewarning clipped out of the leading article of the Times. Was thathisworkorwasitpossiblythedoingofsomeone whowasbentuponcounteractinghisschemes? The onlyconceivablemotivewasthatwhichhadbeensug- gestedbySirHenry,thatifthefamilycouldbescared awayacomfortableandpermanenthomewouldbe securedfortheBarrymores. Butsurelysuchanexpla- nationasthatwouldbequiteinadequatetoaccount for the deep and subtle scheming which seemed to beweavinganinvisiblenetroundtheyoungbaronet.</s>Holmeshimselfhadsaidthatnomorecomplexcase had come to him in all the long series of his sensa- tionalinvestigations. Iprayed,asIwalkedbackalong the gray, lonely road, that my friend might soon be freedfromhispreoccupationsandabletocomedown totakethisheavyburdenofresponsibilityfrommy shoulders.</s>Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted by the soundofrunningfeetbehindmeandbyavoicewhich calledmebyname. Iturned,expectingtoseeDr.Mor- timer,buttomysurpriseitwasastrangerwhowas pursuing me. He was a small, slim, clean-shaven, prim-faced man, flaxen-haired and lean-jawed, be- tweenthirtyandfortyyearsofage,dressedinagray suitandwearingastrawhat. Atinboxforbotanical specimens hung over his shoulder and he carried a greenbutterfly-netinoneofhishands.</s>“Youwill,Iamsure,excusemypresumption,Dr.</s>Watson,” said he, as he came panting up to where I stood. “Here on the moor we are homely folk anddo not wait for formal introductions. You may pos- sibly have heard my name from our mutual friend, Mortimer. IamStapleton,ofMerripitHouse.” “Yournetandboxwouldhavetoldmeasmuch,” saidI,“forIknewthatMr.Stapletonwasanaturalist.</s>Buthowdidyouknowme?” “IhavebeencallingonMortimer,andhepointed yououttomefromthewindowofhissurgeryasyou passed. AsourroadlaythesamewayIthoughtthatI wouldovertakeyouandintroducemyself. Itrustthat SirHenryisnonetheworseforhisjourney?” “Heisverywell,thankyou.” “Wewereallratherafraidthatafterthesaddeath of Sir Charles the new baronet might refuse to live here. It is asking much of a wealthy man to come down and bury himself in a place of this kind, but I need not tell you that it means a very great deal to the country-side. Sir Henry has, I suppose, no superstitiousfearsinthematter?” “Idonotthinkthatitislikely.” “Ofcourseyouknowthelegendofthefienddog whichhauntsthefamily?” “Ihaveheardit.” “It is extraordinary how credulous the peasants are about here! Any number of them are ready to swear that they have seen such a creature upon the moor.”Hespokewithasmile,butIseemedtoreadin hiseyesthathetookthemattermoreseriously. “The story took a great hold upon the imagination of Sir Charles,andIhavenodoubtthatitledtohistragic end.” “Buthow?” “His nerves were so worked up that the appear- ance of any dog might have had a fatal effect upon hisdiseasedheart. Ifancythathereallydidseesome- thingofthekinduponthatlastnightintheYewAlley.</s>Ifearedthatsomedisastermightoccur,forIwasvery fond of the old man, and I knew that his heart was weak.” “Howdidyouknowthat?” “MyfriendMortimertoldme.” “You think, then, that some dog pursued Sir Charles,andthathediedoffrightinconsequence?” “Haveyouanybetterexplanation?” “Ihavenotcometoanyconclusion.” “HasMr.SherlockHolmes?” Thewordstookawaymybreathforaninstant,but a glance at the placid face and steadfast eyes of my companionshowedthatnosurprisewasintended.</s>“Itisuselessforustopretendthatwedonotknow you,Dr.Watson,”saidhe. “Therecordsofyourdetec- tivehavereachedushere,andyoucouldnotcelebrate himwithoutbeingknownyourself. WhenMortimer toldmeyournamehecouldnotdenyyouridentity. If youarehere,thenitfollowsthatMr.SherlockHolmes isinterestinghimselfinthematter,andIamnaturally curioustoknowwhatviewhemaytake.” “IamafraidthatIcannotanswerthatquestion.” “MayIaskifheisgoingtohonouruswithavisit himself?” “He cannot leave town at present. He has other caseswhichengagehisattention.” “Whatapity! Hemightthrowsomelightonthat whichissodarktous. Butastoyourownresearches, ifthereisanypossiblewayinwhichIcanbeofser- vice to you I trust that you will command me. If I had any indication of the nature of your suspicions or how you propose to investigate the case, I might perhapsevennowgiveyousomeaidoradvice.” “IassureyouthatIamsimplyhereuponavisitto myfriend,SirHenry,andthatIneednohelpofany kind.” “Excellent!” said Stapleton. “You are perfectly right to be wary and discreet. I am justly reproved for what I feel was an unjustifiable intrusion, and I promiseyouthatIwillnotmentionthematteragain.” We had come to a point where a narrow grassy pathstruckofffromtheroadandwoundawayacross the moor. A steep, boulder-sprinkled hill lay upon the right which had in bygone days been cut into a granitequarry. Thefacewhichwasturnedtowardsus formedadarkcliff,withfernsandbramblesgrowing initsniches. Fromoveradistantrisetherefloateda grayplumeofsmoke.</s>“Amoderatewalkalongthismoor-pathbringsus toMerripitHouse,”saidhe. “Perhapsyouwillspare anhourthatImayhavethepleasureofintroducing youtomysister.” My first thought was that I should be by Sir Henry’s side. But then I remembered the pile of papers and bills with which his study table was lit- tered. ItwascertainthatIcouldnothelpwiththose.</s>AndHolmeshadexpresslysaidthatIshouldstudy theneighboursuponthemoor. IacceptedStapleton’s invitation,andweturnedtogetherdownthepath.</s>“Itisawonderfulplace,themoor,”saidhe,look- ing round over the undulating downs, long green rollers,withcrestsofjaggedgranitefoamingupinto fantastic surges. “You never tire of the moor. Youcannotthinkthewonderfulsecretswhichitcontains.</s>Itissovast,andsobarren,andsomysterious.” “Youknowitwell,then?” “I have only been here two years. The residents wouldcallmeanewcomer. WecameshortlyafterSir Charlessettled. Butmytastesledmetoexploreevery part of the country round, and I should think that therearefewmenwhoknowitbetterthanIdo.” “Isithardtoknow?” “Veryhard. Yousee,forexample,thisgreatplain tothenorthherewiththequeerhillsbreakingoutof it. Doyouobserveanythingremarkableaboutthat?” “Itwouldbearareplaceforagallop.” “You would naturally think so and the thought has cost several their lives before now. You notice thosebrightgreenspotsscatteredthicklyoverit?” “Yes,theyseemmorefertilethantherest.” Stapletonlaughed.</s>“That is the great Grimpen Mire,” said he. “A falsestepyondermeansdeathtomanorbeast. Only yesterdayIsawoneofthemoorponieswanderinto it. Henevercameout. Isawhisheadforquitealong time craning out of the bog-hole, but it sucked him down at last. Even in dry seasons it is a danger to cross it, but after these autumn rains it is an awful place. And yet I can find my way to the very heart ofitandreturnalive. ByGeorge,thereisanotherof thosemiserableponies!” Somethingbrownwasrollingandtossingamong the green sedges. Then a long, agonized, writhing neck shot upward and a dreadful cry echoed over the moor. It turned me cold with horror, but my companion’snervesseemedtobestrongerthanmine.</s>“It’s gone!” said he. “The mire has him. Two in two days, and many more, perhaps, for they get in thewayofgoingthereinthedryweather,andnever know the difference until the mire has them in its clutches. It’sabadplace,thegreatGrimpenMire.” “Andyousayyoucanpenetrateit?” “Yes, there are one or two paths which a very activemancantake. Ihavefoundthemout.” “Butwhyshouldyouwishtogointosohorrible aplace?” “Well, you see the hills beyond? They are really islands cut off on all sides by the impassable mire, whichhascrawledroundtheminthecourseofyears.</s>Thatiswheretherareplantsandthebutterfliesare, ifyouhavethewittoreachthem.” “Ishalltrymylucksomeday.” Helookedatmewithasurprisedface.</s>“For God’s sake put such an idea out of your mind,”saidhe. “Yourbloodwouldbeuponmyhead.</s>Iassureyouthattherewouldnotbetheleastchance ofyourcomingbackalive. Itisonlybyremembering certaincomplexlandmarksthatIamabletodoit.” “Halloa!”Icried. “Whatisthat?” Along,lowmoan,indescribablysad,sweptover themoor. Itfilledthewholeair,andyetitwasimpos- sibletosaywhenceitcame. Fromadullmurmurit swelled into a deep roar, and then sank back into a melancholy,throbbingmurmuronceagain. Stapleton lookedatmewithacuriousexpressioninhisface.</s>“Queerplace,themoor!”saidhe.</s>“Butwhatisit?” “The peasants say it is the Hound of the Baskervilles calling for its prey. I’ve heard it once ortwicebefore,butneverquitesoloud.” I looked round, with a chill of fear in my heart, at the huge swelling plain, mottled with the green patches of rushes. Nothing stirred over the vast ex- panse save a pair of ravens, which croaked loudly fromatorbehindus.</s>“Youareaneducatedman. Youdon’tbelievesuch nonsenseasthat?”saidI.“Whatdoyouthinkisthe causeofsostrangeasound?” “Bogsmakequeernoisessometimes. It’sthemud settling,orthewaterrising,orsomething.” “No,no,thatwasalivingvoice.” “Well,perhapsitwas. Didyoueverhearabittern booming?” “No,Ineverdid.” “It’saveryrarebird—practicallyextinct—inEng- landnow,butallthingsarepossibleuponthemoor.</s>Yes,Ishouldnotbesurprisedtolearnthatwhatwe haveheardisthecryofthelastofthebitterns.” “It’stheweirdest,strangestthingthateverIheard inmylife.” “Yes,it’sratheranuncannyplacealtogether. Look atthehill-sideyonder. Whatdoyoumakeofthose?” Thewholesteepslopewascoveredwithgraycir- cularringsofstone,ascoreofthematleast.</s>“Whatarethey? Sheep-pens?” “No,theyarethehomesofourworthyancestors.</s>Prehistoricmanlivedthicklyonthemoor,andasno oneinparticularhaslivedtheresince,wefindallhis littlearrangementsexactlyasheleftthem. Theseare hiswigwamswiththeroofsoff. Youcanevenseehishearthand hiscouchifyouhavethecuriosityto go inside.” “Butitisquiteatown. Whenwasitinhabited?” “Neolithicman—nodate.” “Whatdidhedo?” “He grazed his cattle on these slopes, and he learnedtodigfortinwhenthebronzeswordbegan tosupersedethestoneaxe. Lookatthegreattrenchin theoppositehill. Thatishismark. Yes,youwillfind someverysingularpointsaboutthemoor,Dr.Watson.</s>Oh,excusemeaninstant! ItissurelyCyclopides.” Asmallflyormothhadflutteredacrossourpath, andinaninstantStapletonwasrushingwithextraor- dinary energy and speed in pursuit of it. To my dismay the creature flew straight for the great mire, and my acquaintance never paused for an instant, bounding from tuft to tuft behind it, his green net wavingintheair. Hisgrayclothesandjerky,zigzag, irregular progress made him not unlike some huge moth himself. I was standing watching his pursuit with a mixture of admiration for his extraordinary activityandfearlestheshouldlosehisfootinginthe treacherous mire, when I heard the sound of steps, andturningroundfoundawomannearmeuponthe path. Shehadcomefromthedirectioninwhichthe plume of smoke indicated the position of Merripit House,butthedipofthemoorhadhidheruntilshe wasquiteclose.</s>IcouldnotdoubtthatthiswastheMissStapleton of whom I had been told, since ladies of any sort mustbefewuponthemoor,andIrememberedthat Ihadheardsomeonedescribeherasbeingabeauty.</s>Thewomanwhoapproachedmewascertainlythat, andofamostuncommontype. Therecouldnothave beenagreatercontrastbetweenbrotherandsister,for Stapletonwasneutraltinted,withlighthairandgray eyes,whileshewasdarkerthananybrunettewhom I have seen in England—slim, elegant, and tall. She hadaproud,finelycutface,soregularthatitmight have seemed impassive were it not for the sensitive mouth and the beautiful dark, eager eyes. With her perfect figure and elegant dress she was, indeed, a strangeapparitionuponalonelymoorlandpath. Her eyes were on her brother as I turned, and then she quickenedherpacetowardsme. Ihadraisedmyhat and was about to make some explanatory remark, when her own words turned all my thoughts into a newchannel.</s>“Goback!”shesaid. “GostraightbacktoLondon, instantly.” I could only stare at her in stupid surprise. Her eyesblazedatme,andshetappedthegroundimpa- tientlywithherfoot.</s>“WhyshouldIgoback?”Iasked.</s>“Icannotexplain.”Shespokeinalow,eagervoice, with a curious lisp in her utterance. “But for God’s sake do what I ask you. Go back and never set foot uponthemooragain.” “ButIhaveonlyjustcome.” “Man,man!”shecried. “Canyounottellwhena warningisforyourowngood? GobacktoLondon! Start to-night! Get away from this place at all costs! Hush, my brother is coming! Not a word of what I have said. Would you mind getting that orchid for meamongthemares-tailsyonder? Weareveryrich in orchids on the moor, though, of course, you are ratherlatetoseethebeautiesoftheplace.” Stapletonhadabandonedthechaseandcameback tousbreathinghardandflushedwithhisexertions.</s>“Halloa,Beryl!”saidhe,anditseemedtomethat thetoneofhisgreetingwasnotaltogetheracordial one.</s>“Well,Jack,youareveryhot.” “Yes,IwaschasingaCyclopides. Heisveryrare and seldom found in the late autumn. What a pity that I should have missed him!” He spoke uncon- cernedly,buthissmalllighteyesglancedincessantly fromthegirltome.</s>“Youhaveintroducedyourselves,Icansee.” “Yes. IwastellingSirHenrythatitwasratherlate forhimtoseethetruebeautiesofthemoor.” “Why,whodoyouthinkthisis?” “IimaginethatitmustbeSirHenryBaskerville.” “No,no,”saidI.“Onlyahumblecommoner,but hisfriend. MynameisDr.Watson.” A flush of vexation passed over her expressive face. “Wehavebeentalkingatcrosspurposes,”said she.</s>“Why,youhadnotverymuchtimefortalk,”her brotherremarkedwiththesamequestioningeyes.</s>“ItalkedasifDr.Watsonwerearesidentinstead ofbeingmerelyavisitor,”saidshe. “Itcannotmuch matter to him whether it is early or late for the or- chids. But you will come on, will you not, and see MerripitHouse?” A short walk brought us to it, a bleak moorland house,oncethefarmofsomegrazierintheoldpros- perous days, but now put into repair and turned into a modern dwelling. An orchard surrounded it, but the trees, as is usual upon the moor, were stuntedandnipped,andtheeffectofthewholeplacewas mean and melancholy. We were admitted by a strange,wizened,rusty-coatedoldmanservant,who seemedinkeepingwiththehouse. Inside, however, there were large rooms furnished with an elegance inwhichIseemedtorecognizethetasteofthelady.</s>AsIlookedfromtheirwindowsattheinterminable granite-fleckedmoorrollingunbrokentothefarthest horizon I could not but marvel at what could have broughtthishighlyeducatedmanandthisbeautiful womantoliveinsuchaplace.</s>“Queerspottochoose,isitnot?”saidheasifin answertomythought. “Andyetwemanagetomake ourselvesfairlyhappy,dowenot,Beryl?” “Quitehappy,”saidshe,buttherewasnoringof convictioninherwords.</s>“I had a school,” said Stapleton. “It was in the northcountry. Theworktoamanofmytemperament wasmechanicalanduninteresting,buttheprivilege oflivingwithyouth,ofhelpingtomouldthoseyoung minds,andofimpressingthemwithone’sownchar- acterandideals,wasverydeartome. However,the fateswereagainstus. Aseriousepidemicbrokeout in the school and three of the boys died. It never recoveredfromtheblow,andmuchofmycapitalwas irretrievably swallowed up. And yet, if it were not for the loss of the charming companionship of the boys, I could rejoice over my own misfortune, for, withmystrongtastesforbotanyandzoology,Ifind an unlimited field of work here, and my sister is as devotedtoNatureasIam. Allthis,Dr.Watson,has beenbroughtuponyourheadbyyourexpressionas yousurveyedthemooroutofourwindow.” “Itcertainlydidcrossmymindthatitmightbea littledull—lessforyou,perhaps,thanforyoursister.” “No,no,Iamneverdull,”saidshe,quickly.</s>“We have books, we have our studies, and we haveinterestingneighbours. Dr.Mortimerisamost learned man in his own line. Poor Sir Charles was also an admirable companion. We knew him well, andmisshimmorethanIcantell. Doyouthinkthat I should intrude if I were to call this afternoon and maketheacquaintanceofSirHenry?” “Iamsurethathewouldbedelighted.” “ThenperhapsyouwouldmentionthatIpropose todoso. Wemayinourhumblewaydosomething to make things more easy for him until he becomes accustomedtohisnewsurroundings. Willyoucome upstairs, Dr. Watson, and inspect my collection of Lepidoptera? Ithinkitisthemostcompleteoneinthe south-west of England. By the time that you have lookedthroughthemlunchwillbealmostready.” But I was eager to get back to my charge. The melancholyofthemoor,thedeathoftheunfortunate pony, the weird sound which had been associated with the grim legend of the Baskervilles, all these thingstingedmythoughtswithsadness. Thenonthe topofthesemoreorlessvagueimpressionstherehad come the definite and distinct warning of Miss Sta- pleton,deliveredwithsuchintenseearnestnessthatI couldnotdoubtthatsomegraveanddeepreasonlay behindit. Iresistedallpressuretostayforlunch,and I set off at once upon my return journey, taking the grass-grownpathbywhichwehadcome.</s>Itseems,however,thattheremusthavebeensome short cut for those who knew it, for before I had reachedtheroadIwasastoundedtoseeMissStaple- tonsittinguponarockbythesideofthetrack. Her facewasbeautifullyflushedwithherexertions,and sheheldherhandtoherside.</s>“I have run all the way in order to cut you off, Dr. Watson,” said she. “I had not even time to put onmyhat. Imustnotstop,ormybrothermaymiss me. IwantedtosaytoyouhowsorryIamaboutthe stupidmistakeImadeinthinkingthatyouwereSir Henry. PleaseforgetthewordsIsaid,whichhaveno applicationwhatevertoyou.” “ButIcan’tforgetthem,MissStapleton,”saidI.“I amSirHenry’sfriend,andhiswelfareisaveryclose concernofmine. Tellmewhyitwasthatyouwereso eagerthatSirHenryshouldreturntoLondon.” “Awoman’swhim,Dr.Watson. Whenyouknow me better you will understand that I cannot always givereasonsforwhatIsayordo.” “No,no. Irememberthethrillinyourvoice. Ire- memberthelookinyoureyes. Please,please,befrank with me, Miss Stapleton, for ever since I have been hereIhavebeenconsciousofshadowsallroundme.</s>Life has become like that great Grimpen Mire, with littlegreenpatcheseverywhereintowhichonemay sink and with no guide to point the track. Tell me thenwhatitwasthatyoumeant,andIwillpromise toconveyyourwarningtoSirHenry.” Anexpressionofirresolutionpassedforaninstant overherface,buthereyeshadhardenedagainwhen sheansweredme.</s>“Youmaketoomuchofit,Dr.Watson,”saidshe.</s>“My brother and I were very much shocked by the death of Sir Charles. We knew him very intimately, forhisfavouritewalkwasoverthemoortoourhouse.</s>Hewasdeeplyimpressedwiththecursewhichhung over the family, and when this tragedy came I nat- urally felt that there must be some grounds for thefearswhichhehadexpressed. Iwasdistressedthere- forewhenanothermemberofthefamilycamedown to live here, and I felt that he should be warned of the danger which he will run. That was all which I intendedtoconvey.</s>“Butwhatisthedanger?” “Youknowthestoryofthehound?” “Idonotbelieveinsuchnonsense.” “ButIdo. IfyouhaveanyinfluencewithSirHenry, take him away from a place which has always been fataltohisfamily. Theworldiswide. Whyshouldhe wishtoliveattheplaceofdanger?” “Because it is the place of danger. That is Sir Henry’s nature. I fear that unless you can give me somemoredefiniteinformationthanthisitwouldbe impossibletogethimtomove.” CHAPT irst eport F R FromthispointonwardIwillfollowthecourseof eventsbytranscribingmyownletterstoMr.Sherlock Holmeswhichliebeforemeonthetable. Onepage ismissing,butotherwisetheyareexactlyaswritten andshowmyfeelingsandsuspicionsofthemoment moreaccuratelythanmymemory,clearasitisupon thesetragicevents,canpossiblydo.</s>BaskervilleHall,October13th.</s>MydearHolmes: My previous letters and telegrams have kept you pretty well up to date as to all that has occurred in this most God-forsaken corner of the world. The longeronestaysherethemoredoesthespiritofthe moor sink into one’s soul, its vastness, and also its grimcharm. Whenyouareonceoutuponitsbosom you have left all traces of modern England behind you,butontheotherhandyouareconsciousevery- where of the homes and the work of the prehistoric people. Onallsidesofyouasyouwalkarethehouses oftheseforgottenfolk,withtheirgravesandthehuge monolithswhicharesupposedtohavemarkedtheir temples. Asyoulookattheirgraystonehutsagainst “Icannotsayanythingdefinite,forIdonotknow anythingdefinite.” “Iwouldaskyouonemorequestion,MissStaple- ton. If you meant no more than this when you first spoketome,whyshouldyounotwishyourbrother tooverhearwhatyousaid? Thereisnothingtowhich he,oranyoneelse,couldobject.” “My brother is very anxious to have the Hall in- habited, for he thinks it is for the good of the poor folk upon the moor. He would be very angry if he knewthatIhavesaidanythingwhichmightinduce SirHenrytogoaway. ButIhavedonemydutynow and I will say no more. I must get back, or he will missmeandsuspectthatIhaveseenyou. Good-bye!“ She turned and had disappeared in a few minutes amongthescatteredboulders,whileI,withmysoul full of vague fears, pursued my way to Baskerville Hall.</s>TER VIII.</s>of r atson D . W thescarredhill-sidesyouleaveyourownagebehind you, and if you were to see a skin-clad, hairy man crawloutfromthelowdoorfittingaflint-tippedar- rowontothestringofhisbow,youwouldfeelthat hispresencetherewasmorenaturalthanyourown.</s>The strange thing is that they should have lived so thicklyonwhatmustalwayshavebeenmostunfruit- fulsoil. Iamnoantiquarian,butIcouldimaginethat theyweresomeunwarlikeandharriedracewhowere forcedtoacceptthatwhichnoneotherwouldoccupy.</s>All this, however, is foreign to the mission on which you sent me and will probably be very unin- teresting to your severely practical mind. I can still rememberyourcompleteindifferenceastowhether thesunmovedroundtheearthortheearthroundthe sun. Letme,therefore,returntothefactsconcerning SirHenryBaskerville.</s>Ifyouhavenothadanyreportwithinthelastfew daysitisbecauseuptoto-daytherewasnothingof importancetorelate. Thenaverysurprisingcircum- stanceoccurred,whichIshalltellyouinduecourse.</s>But,firstofall,Imustkeepyouintouchwithsome oftheotherfactorsinthesituation.Oneofthese,concerningwhichIhavesaidlittle, istheescapedconvictuponthemoor. Thereisstrong reason now to believe that he has got right away, whichisaconsiderablerelieftothelonelyhousehold- ers of this district. A fortnight has passed since his flight, duringwhichhehasnotbeenseenandnoth- inghasbeenheardofhim. Itissurelyinconceivable that he could have held out upon the moor during all that time. Of course, so far as his concealment goes there is no difficulty at all. Any one of these stonehutswouldgivehimahiding-place. Butthere isnothingtoeatunlessheweretocatchandslaughter one of the moor sheep. We think, therefore, that he hasgone,andtheoutlyingfarmerssleepthebetterin consequence.</s>We are four able-bodied men in this household, so that we could take good care of ourselves, but I confessthatIhavehaduneasymomentswhenIhave thought of theStapletons. They live miles from any help. Thereareonemaid,anoldmanservant,thesis- ter,andthebrother,thelatternotaverystrongman.</s>They would be helpless in the hands of a desperate fellowlikethisNottingHillcriminal,ifhecouldonce effect an entrance. Both Sir Henry and I were con- cerned at their situation, and it was suggested that Perkinsthegroomshouldgoovertosleepthere,but Stapletonwouldnothearofit.</s>Thefactisthatourfriend,thebaronet,beginsto displayaconsiderableinterestinourfairneighbour.</s>Itisnottobewonderedat,fortimehangsheavilyin thislonelyspottoanactivemanlikehim,andsheisa veryfascinatingandbeautifulwoman. Thereissome- thing tropical and exotic about her which forms a singularcontrasttohercoolandunemotionalbrother.</s>Yet he also gives the idea of hidden fires. He has certainlyaverymarkedinfluenceoverher,forIhave seenhercontinuallyglanceathimasshetalkedasif seekingapprobationforwhatshesaid. Itrustthathe is kind to her. There is a dry glitter in his eyes, and afirmsetofhisthinlips,whichgoeswithapositive andpossiblyaharshnature. Youwouldfindhiman interestingstudy.</s>HecameovertocalluponBaskervilleonthatfirst day, and the very next morning he took us both to show us the spot where the legend of the wicked Hugo is supposed to have had its origin. It was an excursion of some miles across the moor to a place which is so dismal that it might have suggested the story. We found a short valley between rugged tors whichledtoanopen,grassyspacefleckedoverwith the white cotton grass. In the middle of it rose two greatstones,wornandsharpenedattheupperend, until they looked like the huge corroding fangs of somemonstrousbeast. Ineverywayitcorresponded with the scene of the old tragedy. Sir Henry was muchinterestedandaskedStapletonmorethanonce whetherhedidreallybelieveinthepossibilityofthe interferenceofthesupernaturalintheaffairsofmen.</s>Hespokelightly,butitwasevidentthathewasvery muchinearnest. Stapletonwasguardedinhisreplies, butitwaseasytoseethathesaidlessthanhemight, andthathewouldnotexpresshiswholeopinionout of consideration for the feelings of the baronet. He toldusofsimilarcases,wherefamilieshadsuffered fromsomeevilinfluence,andheleftuswiththeim- pression that he shared the popular view upon the matter.</s>OnourwaybackwestayedforlunchatMerripit House,anditwastherethatSirHenrymadetheac- quaintanceofMissStapleton. Fromthefirstmoment thathesawherheappearedtobestronglyattracted byher,andIammuchmistakenifthefeelingwasnot mutual. He referred to her again and again on our walk home, and since then hardly a day has passed thatwehavenotseensomethingofthebrotherand sister. Theydinehereto-night,andthereissometalk ofourgoingtothemnextweek. Onewouldimagine thatsuchamatchwouldbeverywelcometoStaple- ton, and yet I have more than once caught a look ofthestrongestdisapprobationinhisfacewhenSir Henry has been paying some attention to his sister.</s>Heismuchattachedtoher,nodoubt,andwouldlead alonelylifewithouther,butitwouldseemtheheight of selfishness if he were to stand in the way of her makingsobrilliantamarriage. YetIamcertainthat hedoesnotwishtheirintimacytoripenintolove,and Ihaveseveraltimesobservedthathehastakenpains to prevent them from being teˆte-a`-teˆte. By the way, your instructions to me never to allow Sir Henry to gooutalonewillbecomeverymuchmoreonerousif aloveaffairweretobeaddedtoourotherdifficulties.</s>My popularity would soon suffer if I were to carry outyourorderstotheletter.</s>The other day—Thursday, to be more exact—Dr.</s>Mortimer lunched with us. He has been excavating a barrow at Long Down, and has got a prehistoric skullwhichfillshimwithgreatjoy. Neverwasthere such a single-minded enthusiast as he! The Staple- tonscameinafterwards,andthegooddoctortookus all to the Yew Alley, at Sir Henry’s request, to show us exactly how everything occurred upon that fatal night. It is a long, dismal walk, the Yew Alley, be- tweentwohighwallsofclippedhedge,withanarrow band of grass upon either side. At the far end is anoldtumble-downsummer-house. Half-waydownis themoor-gate,wheretheoldgentlemanlefthiscigar- ash. It is a white wooden gate with a latch. Beyond it lies the wide moor. I remembered your theory of the affair and tried to picture all that had occurred.</s>Astheoldmanstoodtherehesawsomethingcoming across the moor, something which terrified him so that he lost his wits, and ran and ran until he died ofsheerhorrorandexhaustion. Therewasthelong, gloomytunneldownwhichhefled. Andfromwhat? Asheep-dogofthemoor? Oraspectralhound,black, silent,andmonstrous? Wasthereahumanagencyin thematter? Didthepale,watchfulBarrymoreknow morethanhecaredtosay? Itwasalldimandvague, butalwaysthereisthedarkshadowofcrimebehind it.</s>OneotherneighbourIhavemetsinceIwrotelast.</s>ThisisMr.Frankland,ofLafterHall,wholivessome four miles to the south of us. He is an elderly man, red-faced, white-haired, and choleric. His passion is for the British law, and he has spent a large for- tuneinlitigation. Hefightsforthemerepleasureof fighting and is equally ready to take up either side of a question, so that it is no wonder that he has founditacostlyamusement. Sometimeshewillshut up a right of way and defy the parish to make him open it. At others he will with his own hands tear downsomeotherman’sgateanddeclarethatapath hasexistedtherefromtimeimmemorial,defyingthe owner to prosecute him for trespass. He is learned inoldmanorialandcommunalrights,andheapplies his knowledge sometimes in favour of the villagers ofFernworthyand sometimesagainstthem, so that heisperiodicallyeithercarriedintriumphdownthe villagestreetorelseburnedineffigy,accordingtohis latestexploit. Heissaidtohaveaboutsevenlawsuits uponhishandsatpresent,whichwillprobablyswal- lowuptheremainderofhisfortuneandsodrawhis sting and leave him harmless for the future. Apart fromthelawheseemsakindly,good-naturedperson, andIonlymentionhimbecauseyouwereparticular thatIshouldsendsomedescriptionofthepeoplewho surround us. He is curiously employed at present, for,beinganamateurastronomer,hehasanexcellent telescope, with which he lies upon the roof of his ownhouseandsweepsthemooralldayinthehope of catching a glimpse of the escaped convict. If he wouldconfinehisenergiestothisallwouldbewell, buttherearerumoursthatheintendstoprosecuteDr.</s>Mortimerforopeningagravewithouttheconsentof thenext-of-kin,becauseheduguptheNeolithicskull inthebarrowonLongDown. Hehelpstokeepour livesfrombeingmonotonousandgivesalittlecomic reliefwhereitisbadlyneeded.</s>Andnow,havingbroughtyouuptodateinthees- capedconvict,theStapletons,Dr.Mortimer,andFran- kland,ofLafterHall,letmeendonthatwhichismost important and tell you more about the Barrymores, and especially about the surprising development of lastnight.</s>Firstofallaboutthetesttelegram,whichyousent from London in order to make sure that Barrymore was really here. I have already explained that the testimonyofthepostmastershowsthatthetestwas worthlessandthatwehavenoproofonewayorthe other. ItoldSirHenryhowthematterstood,andhe atonce,inhisdownrightfashion,hadBarrymoreup andaskedhimwhetherhehadreceivedthetelegram himself. Barrymoresaidthathehad.</s>“Did the boy deliver it into your own hands?” askedSirHenry.</s>Barrymorelookedsurprised,andconsideredfora littletime.</s>“No,”saidhe,“Iwasinthebox-roomatthetime, andmywifebroughtituptome.” “Didyouanswerityourself?” “No;Itoldmywifewhattoanswerandshewent downtowriteit.” In the evening he recurred to the subject of his ownaccord.</s>“I could not quite understand the object of your questionsthismorning,SirHenry,”saidhe. “Itrust that they do not mean that I have done anything to forfeityourconfidence?” Sir Henry had to assure him that it was not so andpacifyhimbygivinghimaconsiderablepartof his old wardrobe, the London outfit having now all arrived.</s>Mrs.Barrymoreisofinteresttome. Sheisaheavy, solidperson,verylimited,intenselyrespectable,and inclinedtobepuritanical. Youcouldhardlyconceive alessemotionalsubject. YetIhavetoldyouhow,on thefirstnighthere,Iheardhersobbingbitterly,and sincethenIhavemorethanonceobservedtracesof tears upon her face. Some deep sorrow gnaws ever atherheart. SometimesIwonderifshehasaguilty memorywhichhauntsher,andsometimesIsuspect Barrymoreofbeingadomestictyrant. Ihavealways feltthattherewassomethingsingularandquestion- ableinthisman’scharacter,buttheadventureoflast nightbringsallmysuspicionstoahead.</s>Andyetitmayseemasmallmatterinitself. You are aware that I am not a very sound sleeper, and sinceIhavebeenonguardinthishousemyslumbershavebeenlighterthanever. Lastnight,abouttwoin themorning,Iwasarousedbyastealthysteppassing my room. I rose, opened my door, and peeped out.</s>Alongblackshadowwastrailingdownthecorridor.</s>It was thrown by a man who walked softly down thepassagewithacandleheldinhishand. Hewas in shirt and trousers, with no covering to his feet. I couldmerelyseetheoutline,buthisheighttoldme that it was Barrymore. He walked very slowly and circumspectly,andtherewassomethingindescribably guiltyandfurtiveinhiswholeappearance.</s>Ihavetoldyouthatthecorridorisbrokenbythe balcony which runs round the hall, but that it is re- sumed upon the farther side. I waited until he had passed out of sight and then I followed him. When Icameroundthebalconyhehadreachedtheendof thefarthercorridor,andIcouldseefromtheglimmer oflightthroughanopendoorthathehadenteredone oftherooms. Now,alltheseroomsareunfurnished andunoccupied,sothathisexpeditionbecamemore mysteriousthanever. Thelightshonesteadilyasifhe werestandingmotionless. Icreptdownthepassage asnoiselesslyasIcouldandpeepedroundthecorner CHAP econd eport S R THELIGHTUPONTHEMOOR BaskervilleHall,Oct.15th.</s>MydearHolmes: IfIwascompelledtoleaveyouwithoutmuchnews during the early days of my mission you must ac- knowledge that I am making up for lost time, and that events are now crowding thick and fast upon us. InmylastreportIendeduponmytopnotewith Barrymoreatthewindow,andnowIhavequiteabud- get already which will, unless I am much mistaken, considerablysurpriseyou. Thingshavetakenaturn which I could not have anticipated. In some ways they have within the last forty-eight hours become much clearer and in some ways they have become morecomplicated. ButIwilltellyouallandyoushall judgeforyourself.</s>Before breakfast on the morning following my adventure I went down the corridor and examined ofthedoor.</s>Barrymorewascrouchingatthewindowwiththe candle held against the glass. His profile was half turned towards me, and his face seemed to be rigid withexpectationashestaredoutintotheblackness of the moor. For some minutes he stood watching intently. Then he gave a deep groan and with an impatient gesture he put out the light. Instantly I made my way back to my room, and very shortly camethestealthystepspassingoncemoreupontheir return journey. Long afterwards when I had fallen into a light sleep I heard a key turn somewhere in a lock, but I could not tell whence the sound came.</s>What it all means I cannot guess, but there is some secretbusinessgoingoninthishouseofgloomwhich soonerorlaterweshallgettothebottomof. Idonot trouble you with my theories, for you asked me to furnish you only with facts. I have had a long talk with Sir Henry this morning, and we have made a planofcampaignfoundeduponmyobservationsof last night. I will not speak about it just now, but it shouldmakemynextreportinterestingreading.</s>TER IX.</s>of r atson D . W theroominwhichBarrymorehadbeenonthenight before. Thewesternwindowthroughwhichhehad staredsointentlyhas,Inoticed,onepeculiarityabove all other windows in the house—it commands the nearest outlook on the moor. There is an opening betweentwotreeswhichenablesonefromthispoint of view to look right down upon it, while from all theotherwindowsitisonlyadistantglimpsewhich canbeobtained. Itfollows,therefore,thatBarrymore, since only this window would serve the purpose, must have been looking out for something or some- body upon the moor. The night was very dark, so thatIcanhardlyimaginehowhecouldhavehoped to see anyone. It had struck me that it was possible thatsomeloveintriguewasonfoot. Thatwouldhave accountedforhisstealthymovementsandalsoforthe uneasinessofhiswife. Themanisastriking-looking fellow,verywellequippedtostealtheheartofacoun-trygirl,sothatthistheoryseemedtohavesomething tosupportit. ThatopeningofthedoorwhichIhad heard after I had returned to my room might mean that he had gone out to keep some clandestine ap- pointment. SoIreasonedwithmyselfinthemorning, and I tell you the direction of my suspicions, how- evermuchtheresultmayhaveshownthattheywere unfounded.</s>ButwhateverthetrueexplanationofBarrymore’s movementsmightbe,Ifeltthattheresponsibilityof keeping them to myself until I could explain them wasmorethanIcouldbear. Ihadaninterviewwith thebaronetinhisstudyafterbreakfast,andItoldhim allthatIhadseen. HewaslesssurprisedthanIhad expected.</s>“IknewthatBarrymorewalkedaboutnights,and Ihadamindtospeaktohimaboutit,”saidhe. “Two or three times I have heard his steps in the passage, comingandgoing,justaboutthehouryouname.” “Perhapsthenhepaysavisiteverynighttothat particularwindow,”Isuggested.</s>“Perhaps he does. If so, we should be able to shadowhim,andseewhatitisthatheisafter. Iwon- der what your friend Holmes would do, if he were here.” “Ibelievethathewoulddoexactlywhatyounow suggest,” said I. “He would follow Barrymore and seewhathedid.” “Thenweshalldoittogether.” “Butsurelyhewouldhearus.” “Themanisratherdeaf,andinanycasewemust take our chance of that. We’ll sit up in my room to- night and wait until he passes.” Sir Henry rubbed his hands with pleasure, and it was evident that he hailedtheadventureasarelieftohissomewhatquiet lifeuponthemoor.</s>Thebaronethasbeenincommunicationwiththe architectwhopreparedtheplansforSirCharles,and with a contractor from London, so that we may ex- pect great changes to begin here soon. There have been decorators and furnishers up from Plymouth, anditisevidentthatourfriendhaslargeideas,and means to spare no pains or expense to restore the grandeurofhisfamily. Whenthehouseisrenovated andrefurnished,allthathewillneedwillbeawifeto makeitcomplete. Betweenourselvestherearepretty clear signs that this will not be wanting if the lady is willing, for I have seldom seen a man more infat- uated with a woman than he is with our beautiful neighbour,MissStapleton. Andyetthecourseoftrue love does not run quite as smoothly as one would underthecircumstancesexpect. To-day,forexample, its surface was broken by a very unexpected ripple, whichhascausedourfriendconsiderableperplexity andannoyance.</s>AftertheconversationwhichIhavequotedabout Barrymore,SirHenryputonhishatandpreparedto goout. AsamatterofcourseIdidthesame.</s>“What,areyoucoming,Watson?”heasked,look- ingatmeinacuriousway.</s>“Thatdependsonwhetheryouaregoingonthe moor,”saidI.</s>“Yes,Iam.” “Well,youknowwhatmyinstructionsare. Iam sorrytointrude,butyouheardhowearnestlyHolmes insisted that I should not leave you, and especially thatyoushouldnotgoaloneuponthemoor.” SirHenryputhishanduponmyshoulderwitha pleasantsmile.</s>“My dear fellow,” said he, “Holmes, with all his wisdom,didnotforeseesomethingswhichhavehap- penedsinceIhavebeenonthemoor. Youunderstand me? Iamsurethatyouarethelastmanintheworld who would wish to be a spoil-sport. I must go out alone.” Itputmeinamostawkwardposition. Iwasata losswhattosayorwhattodo,andbeforeIhadmade upmymindhepickeduphiscaneandwasgone.</s>But when I came to think the matter over my consciencereproachedmebitterlyforhavingonany pretextallowedhimtogooutofmysight. Iimagined whatmyfeelingswouldbeifIhadtoreturntoyou and to confess that some misfortune had occurred throughmydisregardforyourinstructions. Iassure youmycheeksflushedattheverythought. Itmight notevennowbetoolatetoovertakehim,soIsetoff atonceinthedirectionofMerripitHouse.</s>I hurried along the road at the top of my speed withoutseeinganythingofSirHenry,untilIcameto the point where the moor path branches off. There, fearingthatperhapsIhadcomeinthewrongdirec- tion after all, I mounted a hill from which I could commandaview—thesamehillwhichiscutintothe darkquarry. ThenceIsawhimatonce. Hewasonthe moorpath,aboutaquarterofamileoff,andalady wasbyhissidewhocouldonlybeMissStapleton. It was clear that there was already an understanding betweenthemandthattheyhadmetbyappointment.</s>Theywerewalkingslowlyalongindeepconversation, andIsawhermakingquicklittlemovementsofher hands as if she were very earnest in what she was saying,whilehelistenedintently,andonceortwiceshookhisheadinstrongdissent. Istoodamongthe rockswatchingthem,verymuchpuzzledastowhat Ishoulddonext. Tofollowthemandbreakintotheir intimateconversationseemedtobeanoutrage,and yetmycleardutywasneverforaninstanttolethim out of my sight. To act the spy upon a friend was a hatefultask. Still,Icouldseenobettercoursethanto observehimfromthehill,andtoclearmyconscience byconfessingtohimafterwardswhatIhaddone. It istruethatifanysuddendangerhadthreatenedhim I was too far away to be of use, and yet I am sure thatyouwillagreewithmethatthepositionwasvery difficult, and that there was nothing more which I coulddo.</s>Ourfriend,SirHenry,andtheladyhadhaltedon thepathandwerestandingdeeplyabsorbedintheir conversation,whenIwassuddenlyawarethatIwas not the only witness of their interview. A wisp of greenfloatingintheaircaughtmyeye,andanother glance showed me that it was carried on a stick by a man who was moving among the broken ground.</s>ItwasStapletonwithhisbutterfly-net. Hewasvery muchclosertothepairthanIwas,andheappeared to be moving in their direction. At this instant Sir HenrysuddenlydrewMissStapletontohisside. His armwasroundher,butitseemedtomethatshewas straining away from him with her face averted. He stoopedhisheadtohers,andsheraisedonehandas if in protest. Next moment I saw them spring apart and turn hurriedly round. Stapleton was the cause oftheinterruption. Hewasrunningwildlytowards them,hisabsurdnetdanglingbehindhim. Hegestic- ulatedandalmostdancedwithexcitementinfrontof thelovers. WhatthescenemeantIcouldnotimagine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was abusing Sir Henry,whoofferedexplanations,whichbecamemore angryastheotherrefusedtoacceptthem. Thelady stoodbyinhaughtysilence. FinallyStapletonturned uponhisheelandbeckonedinaperemptorywayto hissister,who,afteranirresoluteglanceatSirHenry, walkedoffbythesideofherbrother. Thenaturalist’s angry gestures showed that the lady was included in his displeasure. The baronet stood for a minute lookingafterthem,andthenhewalkedslowlyback thewaythathehadcome,hisheadhanging,thevery pictureofdejection.</s>WhatallthismeantIcouldnotimagine,butIwas deeplyashamedtohavewitnessedsointimateascene withoutmyfriend’sknowledge. Irandownthehill thereforeandmetthebaronetatthebottom. Hisface wasflushedwithangerandhisbrowswerewrinkled, likeonewhoisathiswit’sendswhattodo.</s>“Halloa,Watson! Wherehaveyoudroppedfrom?” saidhe. “Youdon’tmeantosaythatyoucameafter meinspiteofall?” Iexplainedeverythingtohim: howIhadfoundit impossibletoremainbehind,howIhadfollowedhim, and how I had witnessedall that had occurred. For an instant his eyes blazed at me, but my frankness disarmedhisanger,andhebrokeatlastintoarather ruefullaugh.</s>“You would have thought the middle of that prairieafairlysafeplaceforamantobeprivate,”said he, “but, by thunder, the whole country-side seems to have been out to see me do my wooing—and a mightypoorwooingatthat! Wherehadyouengaged aseat?” “Iwasonthathill.” “Quite in the back row, eh? But her brother was well up to the front. Did you see him come out on us?” “Yes,Idid.” “Did he ever strike you as being crazy—this brotherofhers?” “Ican’tsaythatheeverdid.” “Idaresaynot. Ialwaysthoughthimsaneenough untilto-day,butyoucantakeitfrommethateitherhe or I ought to be in a strait-jacket. What’s the matter with me, anyhow? You’ve lived near me for some weeks, Watson. Tell me straight, now! Is there any- thing that would prevent me from making a good husbandtoawomanthatIloved?” “Ishouldsaynot.” “Hecan’tobjecttomyworldlyposition,soitmust be myself that he has this down on. What has he against me? I never hurt man or woman in my life thatIknowof. Andyethewouldnotsomuchaslet metouchthetipsofherfingers.” “Didhesayso?” “That, and a deal more. I tell you, Watson, I’ve onlyknownherthesefewweeks,butfromthefirstI justfeltthatshewasmadeforme,andshe,too—she washappywhenshewaswithme,andthatI’llswear.</s>There’salightinawoman’seyesthatspeakslouder thanwords. Buthehasneverletusgettogether,and itwasonlyto-dayforthefirsttimethatIsawachance ofhavingafewwordswithheralone. Shewasglad to meet me, but when she did it was not love that shewouldtalkabout,andshewouldn’thaveletme talkaboutiteitherifshecouldhavestoppedit. She keptcomingbacktoitthatthiswasaplaceofdanger, and that she would never be happy until I had left it. I told her that since I had seen her I was in nohurrytoleaveit,andthatifshereallywantedmeto go,theonlywaytoworkitwasforhertoarrangeto gowithme. WiththatIofferedinasmanywordsto marryher,butbeforeshecouldanswer,downcame thisbrotherofhers,runningatuswithafaceonhim like a madman. He was just white with rage, and thoselighteyesofhiswereblazingwithfury. What was I doing with the lady? How dared I offer her attentionswhichweredistastefultoher? DidIthink thatbecauseIwasabaronetIcoulddowhatIliked? IfhehadnotbeenherbrotherIshouldhaveknown betterhowtoanswerhim. AsitwasItoldhimthat myfeelingstowardshissisterweresuchasIwasnot ashamed of, and that I hoped that she might hon- ourmebybecomingmywife. Thatseemedtomake the matter no better, so then I lost my temper too, andIansweredhimrathermorehotlythanIshould perhaps,consideringthatshewasstandingby. Soit endedbyhisgoingoffwithher,asyousaw,andhere am I as badly puzzled a man as any in this county.</s>Just tell me what it all means, Watson, and I’ll owe youmorethaneverIcanhopetopay.” Itriedoneortwoexplanations,but,indeed,Iwas completelypuzzledmyself. Ourfriend’stitle,hisfor- tune,hisage,hischaracter,andhisappearanceareall inhisfavour,andIknownothingagainsthimunless itbethisdarkfatewhichrunsinhisfamily. Thathis advancesshouldberejectedsobrusquelywithoutany referencetothelady’sownwishes,andthatthelady should accept the situation without protest, is very amazing. However,ourconjecturesweresetatrestby avisitfromStapletonhimselfthatveryafternoon. He had come to offer apologies for his rudeness of the morning,andafteralongprivateinterviewwithSir Henryinhisstudy,theupshotoftheirconversation was that the breach is quite healed, and that we are todineatMerripitHousenextFridayasasignofit.</s>“Idon’tsaynowthatheisn’tacrazyman,”said Sir Henry; “I can’t forget the look in his eyes when heranatmethismorning,butImustallowthatno mancouldmakeamorehandsomeapologythanhe hasdone.” “Didhegiveanyexplanationofhisconduct?” “Hissisteriseverythinginhislife,hesays. Thatis naturalenough,andIamgladthatheshouldunder- stand her value. They have always been together, and according to his account he has been a very lonely man with only her as a companion, so that the thought of losing her was really terrible to him.</s>Hehadnotunderstood,hesaid,thatIwasbecoming attachedtoher,butwhenhesawwithhisowneyes thatitwasreallyso,andthatshemightbetakenaway fromhim,itgavehimsuchashockthatforatimehe wasnotresponsibleforwhathesaidordid. Hewas verysorryforallthathadpassed,andherecognized how foolish and how selfish it was that he should imagine that he could hold a beautiful woman like his sister to himself for her whole life. If she had to leavehimhehadratheritwastoaneighbourlikemy- selfthantoanyoneelse. Butinanycaseitwasablow to him, and it would take him some time before he couldpreparehimselftomeetit. Hewouldwithdraw all opposition upon his part if I would promise for threemonthstoletthematterrestandtobecontent withcultivatingthelady’sfriendshipduringthattime without claiming her love. This I promised, and so thematterrests.” Sothereisoneofoursmallmysteriesclearedup.</s>Itissomethingtohavetouchedbottomanywherein thisboginwhichwearefloundering. Weknownow whyStapletonlookedwithdisfavouruponhissister’s suitor—even when that suitor was so eligible a one as Sir Henry. And now I pass on to another thread whichIhaveextricatedoutofthetangledskein,the mystery of the sobs in the night, of the tear-stained face of Mrs. Barrymore, of the secret journey of the butler to the western lattice window. Congratulate me,mydearHolmes,andtellmethatIhavenotdis- appointed you as an agent—that you do not regret the confidence which you showed in me when you sent me down. All these things have by one night’s workbeenthoroughlycleared.</s>Ihavesaid“byonenight’swork,”but,intruth,it wasbytwonights’work,foronthefirstwedrewen- tirelyblank. IsatupwithSirHenryinhisroomsuntil nearlythreeo’clockinthemorning,butnosoundof anysortdidwehearexceptthechimingclockupon thestairs. Itwasamostmelancholyvigil,andended byeachofusfallingasleepinourchairs. Fortunately wewerenotdiscouraged,andwedeterminedtotry again. Thenextnightweloweredthelamp,andsat smoking cigarettes without making the least sound.</s>It was incredible how slowly the hours crawled by, andyetwewerehelpedthroughitbythesamesort of patient interest which the hunter must feel as he watchesthetrapintowhichhehopesthegamemay wander. Onestruck,andtwo,andwehadalmostfor the second time given it up in despair, when in an instantwebothsatboltuprightinourchairs,withall ourwearysenseskeenlyonthealertoncemore. We hadheardthecreakofastepinthepassage.</s>Verystealthilywehearditpassalonguntilitdied awayinthedistance. Thenthebaronetgentlyopened hisdoorandwesetoutinpursuit. Alreadyourmanhadgoneroundthegallery,andthecorridorwasall indarkness. Softlywestolealonguntilwehadcome into the other wing. We were just in time to catch a glimpseofthetall,black-beardedfigure,hisshoulders rounded, ashe tip-toed down the passage. Then he passedthroughthesamedoorasbefore,andthelight ofthecandleframeditinthedarknessandshotone singleyellowbeamacrossthegloomofthecorridor.</s>Weshuffledcautiouslytowardsit,tryingeveryplank beforewedaredtoputourwholeweightuponit. We hadtakentheprecautionofleavingourbootsbehind us,but,evenso,theoldboardssnappedandcreaked beneathourtread. Sometimesitseemedimpossible that he should fail to hear our approach. However, themanisfortunatelyratherdeaf,andhewasentirely preoccupiedinthatwhichhewasdoing. Whenatlast wereachedthedoorandpeepedthroughwefound him crouching at the window, candle in hand, his white,intentfacepressedagainstthepane,exactlyas Ihadseenhimtwonightsbefore.</s>We had arranged no plan of campaign, but the baronetisamantowhomthemostdirectwayisal- waysthemostnatural. Hewalkedintotheroom,and ashedidsoBarrymoresprangupfromthewindow with a sharp hiss of his breath and stood, livid and trembling, before us. His dark eyes, glaring out of the white mask of his face, were full of horror and astonishmentashegazedfromSirHenrytome.</s>“Whatareyoudoinghere,Barrymore?” “Nothing,sir.”Hisagitationwassogreatthathe couldhardlyspeak,andtheshadowssprangupand down from the shaking of his candle. “It was the window, sir. Igoroundatnighttoseethattheyare fastened.” “Onthesecondfloor?” “Yes,sir,allthewindows.” “Look here, Barrymore,” said Sir Henry, sternly; “wehavemadeupourmindstohavethetruthoutof you,soitwillsaveyoutroubletotellitsoonerrather thanlater. Come,now! Nolies! Whatwereyoudoing atthatwindow?” Thefellowlookedatusinahelplessway,andhe wrunghishandstogetherlikeonewhoisinthelast extremityofdoubtandmisery.</s>“Iwasdoingnoharm,sir. Iwasholdingacandle tothewindow.” “Andwhywereyouholdingacandletothewin- dow?” “Don’t ask me, Sir Henry—don’t ask me! I give you my word, sir, that it is not my secret, and that I cannot tell it. If it concerned no one but myself I wouldnottrytokeepitfromyou.” A sudden idea occurred to me, and I took the candlefromthetremblinghandofthebutler.</s>“Hemusthavebeenholdingitasasignal,”saidI.</s>“Letusseeifthereisanyanswer.”Ihelditashehad done, and stared out into the darkness of the night.</s>Vaguely I could discern the black bank of the trees andthelighterexpanseofthemoor,forthemoonwas behind the clouds. And then I gave a cry of exulta- tion,foratinypin-pointofyellowlighthadsuddenly transfixed the dark veil, and glowed steadily in the centreoftheblacksquareframedbythewindow.</s>“Thereitis!”Icried.</s>“No, no, sir, it is nothing—nothing at all!” the butlerbrokein;“Iassureyou,sir—” “Move your light across the window, Watson!” cried the baronet. “See, the other moves also! Now, you rascal, do you deny that it is a signal? Come, speakup! Whoisyourconfederateoutyonder,and whatisthisconspiracythatisgoingon?” Theman’sfacebecameopenlydefiant.</s>“Itismybusiness,andnotyours. Iwillnottell.” “Thenyouleavemyemploymentrightaway.” “Verygood,sir. IfImustImust.” “And you go in disgrace. By thunder, you may well be ashamed of yourself. Your family has lived with mine for over a hundred years under this roof, and here I find you deep in some dark plot against me.” “No, no, sir; no, not against you!” It was a woman’svoice,andMrs.Barrymore,palerandmore horror-struckthanherhusband,wasstandingatthe door. Her bulky figure in a shawl and skirt might havebeencomicwereitnotfortheintensityoffeeling uponherface.</s>“We have to go, Eliza. This is the end of it. You canpackourthings,”saidthebutler.</s>“Oh,John,John,haveIbroughtyoutothis? Itis mydoing,SirHenry—allmine. Hehasdonenothing exceptformysakeandbecauseIaskedhim.” “Speakout,then! Whatdoesitmean?” “Myunhappybrotherisstarvingonthemoor. We cannotlethimperishatourverygates. Thelightisa signaltohimthatfoodisreadyforhim,andhislight outyonderistoshowthespottowhichtobringit.” “Thenyourbrotheris—” “Theescapedconvict,sir—Selden,thecriminal.” “That’sthetruth,sir,”saidBarrymore. “Isaidthat itwasnotmysecretandthatIcouldnottellittoyou.But now you have heard it, and you will see that if therewasaplotitwasnotagainstyou.” This,then,wastheexplanationofthestealthyex- peditions at night and the light at the window. Sir HenryandIbothstaredatthewomaninamazement.</s>Was it possible that this stolidly respectable person was of the same blood as one of the most notorious criminalsinthecountry? “Yes, sir, my name was Selden, and he is my youngerbrother. Wehumouredhimtoomuchwhen hewasalad,andgavehimhisownwayineverything until he came to think that the world was made for his pleasure, and that he could do what he liked in it. Then as he grew older he met wicked compan- ions, and the devil entered into him until he broke mymother’sheartanddraggedournameinthedirt.</s>From crime to crime he sank lower and lower, until itisonlythemercyofGodwhichhassnatchedhim from the scaffold; but to me, sir, he was always the littlecurly-headedboythatIhadnursedandplayed with,asaneldersisterwould. Thatwaswhyhebroke prison,sir. HeknewthatIwashereandthatwecould notrefusetohelphim. Whenhedraggedhimselfhere onenight,wearyandstarving,withthewardershard athisheels,whatcouldwedo? Wetookhiminand fed him and cared for him. Then you returned, sir, and my brother thought he would be safer on the moorthananywhereelseuntilthehueandcrywas over,sohelayinhidingthere. Buteverysecondnight wemadesureifhewasstilltherebyputtingalightin thewindow,andiftherewasananswermyhusband tookoutsomebreadandmeattohim. Everydaywe hopedthathewasgone,butaslongashewasthere wecouldnotdeserthim. Thatisthewholetruth,asI amanhonestChristianwoman,andyouwillseethat ifthereisblameinthematteritdoesnotliewithmy husband, but with me, for whose sake he has done allthathehas.” Thewoman’swordscamewithanintenseearnest- nesswhichcarriedconvictionwiththem.</s>“Isthistrue,Barrymore?” “Yes,SirHenry. Everywordofit.” “Well, I cannot blame you for standing by your ownwife. ForgetwhatIhavesaid. Gotoyourroom, youtwo,andweshalltalkfurtheraboutthismatter inthemorning.” When they were gone we looked out of the win- dowagain. SirHenryhadflungitopen,andthecold night wind beat in upon our faces. Far away in the black distance there still glowed that one tiny point ofyellowlight.</s>“Iwonderhedares,”saidSirHenry.</s>“It may be so placed as to be only visible from here.” “Verylikely. Howfardoyouthinkitis?” “OutbytheCleftTor,Ithink.” “Notmorethanamileortwooff.” “Hardlythat.” “Well, it cannot be far if Barrymore had to carry out the food to it. And he is waiting, this villain, beside that candle. By thunder, Watson, I am going outtotakethatman!” Thesamethoughthadcrossedmyownmind. It wasnotasiftheBarrymoreshadtakenusintotheir confidence. Theirsecrethadbeenforcedfromthem.</s>Themanwasadangertothecommunity,anunmit- igated scoundrel for whom there was neither pity nor excuse. We were only doing our duty in taking this chance of putting him back where he could do no harm. With his brutal and violent nature, others would have to pay the price if we held our hands.</s>Any night, for example, our neighbours the Staple- tonsmightbeattackedbyhim,anditmayhavebeen the thought of this which made Sir Henry so keen upontheadventure.</s>“Iwillcome,”saidI.</s>“Then get your revolver and put on your boots.</s>Thesoonerwestartthebetter,asthefellowmayput outhislightandbeoff.” Infiveminuteswewereoutsidethedoor,starting upon our expedition. We hurried through the dark shrubbery, amid the dull moaning of the autumn windandtherustleofthefallingleaves. Thenightair was heavy with the smell of damp and decay. Now and again the moon peeped out for an instant, but cloudsweredrivingoverthefaceofthesky,andjust aswecameoutonthemoorathinrainbegantofall.</s>Thelightstillburnedsteadilyinfront.</s>“Areyouarmed?”Iasked.</s>“Ihaveahunting-crop.” “Wemustcloseinonhimrapidly,forheissaidto beadesperatefellow. Weshalltakehimbysurprise andhavehimatourmercybeforehecanresist.” “I say, Watson,” said the baronet, “what would Holmessaytothis? Howaboutthathourofdarkness inwhichthepowerofevilisexalted?” Asifinanswertohiswordsthererosesuddenly out of the vast gloom of the moor that strange cry which I had already heard upon the borders of the greatGrimpenMire. Itcamewiththewindthrough the silence of the night, a long, deep mutter, thena rising howl, and then the sad moan in which it died away. Again and again it sounded, the whole air throbbing with it, strident, wild, and menacing.</s>Thebaronetcaughtmysleeveandhisfaceglimmered whitethroughthedarkness.</s>“MyGod,what’sthat,Watson?” “Idon’tknow. It’sasoundtheyhaveonthemoor.</s>Ihearditoncebefore.” It died away, and an absolute silence closed in upon us. We stood straining our ears, but nothing came.</s>“Watson,” said the baronet, “it was the cry of a hound.” My blood ran cold in my veins, for there was a break in his voice which told of the sudden horror whichhadseizedhim.</s>“Whatdotheycallthissound?”heasked.</s>“Who?” “Thefolkonthecountry-side.” “Oh, they are ignorant people. Why should you mindwhattheycallit?” “Tellme,Watson. Whatdotheysayofit?” Ihesitatedbutcouldnotescapethequestion.</s>“They say it is the cry of the Hound of the Baskervilles.” Hegroanedandwassilentforafewmoments.</s>“Ahounditwas,”hesaid,atlast,“butitseemed tocomefrommilesaway,overyonder,Ithink.” “Itwashardtosaywhenceitcame.” “Itroseandfellwiththewind. Isn’tthatthedirec- tionofthegreatGrimpenMire?” “Yes,itis.” “Well,itwasupthere. Comenow,Watson,didn’t you think yourself that it was the cry of a hound? I amnotachild. Youneednotfeartospeakthetruth.” “StapletonwaswithmewhenIhearditlast. He saidthatitmightbethecallingofastrangebird.” “No, no, it was a hound. My God, can there be some truth in all these stories? Is it possible that I amreallyindangerfromsodarkacause? Youdon’t believeit,doyou,Watson?” “No,no.” “And yet it was one thing to laugh about it in London, and it is another to stand out here in the darknessofthemoorandtohearsuchacryasthat.</s>Andmyuncle! Therewasthefootprintofthehound besidehimashelay. Itallfitstogether. Idon’tthink that I am a coward, Watson, but that sound seemed tofreezemyveryblood. Feelmyhand!” Itwasascoldasablockofmarble.</s>“You’llbeallrightto-morrow.” “I don’t think I’ll get that cry out of my head.</s>Whatdoyouadvisethatwedonow?” “Shallweturnback?” “No, by thunder; we have come out to get our man, and we will do it. We after the convict, and a hell-hound,aslikelyasnot,afterus. Comeon! We’ll see it through if all the fiends of the pit were loose uponthemoor.” We stumbled slowly along in the darkness, with the black loom of the craggy hills around us, and the yellow speck of light burning steadily in front.</s>Thereisnothingsodeceptiveasthedistanceofalight uponapitch-darknight,andsometimestheglimmer seemed to be far away upon the horizon and some- times it might have been within a few yards of us.</s>But at last we could see whence it came, and then we knew that we were indeed very close. A gutter- ingcandlewasstuckinacreviceoftherockswhich flanked it on each side so as to keep the wind from it and also to prevent it from being visible, save in thedirectionofBaskervilleHall. Aboulderofgranite concealedourapproach,andcrouchingbehinditwe gazedoveritatthesignallight. Itwasstrangetosee thissinglecandleburningthereinthemiddleofthe moor,withnosignoflifenearit—justtheonestraight yellowflameandthegleamoftherockoneachside ofit.</s>“Whatshallwedonow?”whisperedSirHenry.</s>“Waithere. Hemustbenearhislight. Letussee ifwecangetaglimpseofhim.” Thewordswerehardlyoutofmymouthwhenwe bothsawhim. Overtherocks,inthecreviceofwhich thecandleburned,therewasthrustoutanevilyellow face, a terrible animal face, all seamed and scored with vile passions. Foul with mire, with a bristling beard,andhungwithmattedhair,itmightwellhave belonged to one of those old savages who dwelt in the burrows on the hillsides. The light beneath him wasreflectedinhissmall,cunningeyeswhichpeered fiercelytorightandleftthroughthedarkness,likea craftyandsavageanimalwhohasheardthestepsof thehunters.</s>Somethinghadevidentlyarousedhissuspicions.</s>It may have been that Barrymore had some private signal which we had neglected to give, or the fel- low may have had some other reason for thinking thatallwasnotwell,butIcouldreadhisfearsupon his wicked face. Any instant he might dash out thelight and vanish in the darkness. I sprang forward therefore, and Sir Henry did the same. At the same momenttheconvictscreamedoutacurseatusand hurled a rock which splintered up against the boul- derwhichhadshelteredus. Icaughtoneglimpseof hisshort,squat,strongly-builtfigureashesprangto his feet and turned to run. At the same moment by a lucky chance the moon broke through the clouds.</s>We rushed over the brow of the hill, and there was our man running with great speed down the other side, springing over the stones in his way with the activityofamountaingoat. Aluckylongshotofmy revolvermighthavecrippledhim,butIhadbrought itonlytodefendmyselfifattacked,andnottoshoot anunarmedmanwhowasrunningaway.</s>We were both swift runners and in fairly good training,butwesoonfoundthatwehadnochanceof overtaking him. We saw him for a long time in the moonlight until he was only a small speck moving swiftlyamongthebouldersuponthesideofadistant hill. Weranandranuntilwewerecompletelyblown, but the space between us grew ever wider. Finally westoppedandsat pantingontworocks, whilewe watchedhimdisappearinginthedistance.</s>And it was at this moment that there occurred a most strange and unexpected thing. We had risen fromourrocksandwereturningtogohome,having abandoned the hopeless chase. The moon was low upontheright,andthejaggedpinnacleofagranite torstoodupagainstthelowercurveofitssilverdisc.</s>There, outlined as black as an ebony statue on that shiningback-ground,Isawthefigureofamanupon thetor. Donotthinkthatitwasadelusion,Holmes. I assureyouthatIhaveneverinmylifeseenanything moreclearly. AsfarasIcouldjudge,thefigurewas thatofatall,thinman. Hestoodwithhislegsalittle separated,hisarmsfolded,hisheadbowed,asifhe werebroodingoverthatenormouswildernessofpeat and granite which lay before him. He might have beentheveryspiritofthatterribleplace. Itwasnot theconvict. Thismanwasfarfromtheplacewhere the latter had disappeared. Besides, he was a much tallerman. WithacryofsurpriseIpointedhimout tothebaronet,butintheinstantduringwhichIhad turnedtograsphisarmthemanwasgone. Therewas the sharp pinnacle of granite still cutting the lower edge of the moon, but its peak bore no trace of that silentandmotionlessfigure.</s>Iwishedtogointhatdirectionandtosearchthe tor, but it was some distance away. The baronet’s nerves were still quivering from that cry, which re- called the dark story of his family, and he was not in the mood for fresh adventures. He had not seen this lonely man upon the tor and could not feel the thrillwhichhisstrangepresenceandhiscommand- ingattitudehadgiventome. “Awarder,nodoubt,” said he. “The moor has been thick with them since this fellow escaped.” Well, perhaps his explanation maybetherightone,butIshouldliketohavesome furtherproofofit. To-daywemeantocommunicate tothePrincetownpeoplewheretheyshouldlookfor theirmissingman,butitishardlinesthatwehavenot actuallyhadthetriumphofbringinghimbackasour own prisoner. Such are the adventures of last night, and you must acknowledge, my dear Holmes, that I have done you very well in the matter of a report.</s>MuchofwhatItellyouisnodoubtquiteirrelevant, butstillIfeelthatitisbestthatIshouldletyouhave allthefactsandleaveyoutoselectforyourselfthose whichwill beofmostserviceto youin helpingyou to your conclusions. We are certainly making some progress. SofarastheBarrymoresgowehavefound themotiveoftheiractions,andthathasclearedupthe situationverymuch. Butthemoorwithitsmysteries anditsstrangeinhabitantsremainsasinscrutableas ever. PerhapsinmynextImaybeabletothrowsome light upon this also. Best of all would it be if you could come down to us. In any case you will hear frommeagaininthecourseofthenextfewdays.CHAP xtract from the E D SofarIhavebeenabletoquotefromthereports which I have forwarded during these early days to Sherlock Holmes. Now, however, I have arrived at a point in my narrative where I am compelled to abandon this method and to trust once more to my recollections, aidedbythediarywhichIkeptatthe time. A few extracts from the latter will carry me ontothosesceneswhichareindeliblyfixedinevery detail upon my memory. I proceed, then, from the morning which followed our abortive chase of the convict and our other strange experiences upon the moor.</s>October16th.—Adullandfoggydaywithadriz- zleofrain. Thehouseisbankedinwithrollingclouds, which rise now and then to show the dreary curves ofthemoor,withthin,silverveinsuponthesidesof the hills, and the distant boulders gleaming where thelightstrikesupontheirwetfaces. Itismelancholy outsideandin. Thebaronetisinablackreactionafter theexcitementsofthenight. Iamconsciousmyselfof aweightatmyheartandafeelingofimpendingdan- ger—everpresentdanger,whichisthemoreterrible becauseIamunabletodefineit.</s>AndhaveInotcauseforsuchafeeling? Consider thelongsequenceofincidentswhichhaveallpointed to some sinister influence which is at work around us. There is the death of the last occupant of the Hall,fulfillingsoexactlytheconditionsofthefamily legend,andtherearetherepeatedreportsfrompeas- antsoftheappearanceofastrangecreatureuponthe moor. TwiceIhavewithmyownearsheardthesound whichresembledthedistantbayingofahound. Itis incredible,impossible,thatitshouldreallybeoutside theordinarylawsofnature. Aspectralhoundwhich leaves material footmarks and fills the air with its howlingissurelynottobethoughtof. Stapletonmay fall in with such a superstition, and Mortimer also; but if I have one quality upon earth it is common- sense, and nothing will persuade me to believe in such a thing. To do so would be to descend to the levelofthesepoorpeasants,whoarenotcontentwith amerefienddogbutmustneedsdescribehimwith hell-fireshootingfromhismouthandeyes. Holmes wouldnotlistentosuchfancies,andIamhisagent.</s>But facts are facts, and I have twice heard this cry- ing upon the moor. Suppose that there were really somehugehoundlooseuponit;thatwouldgofarto explain everything. But where could such a hound lieconcealed,wherediditgetitsfood,wheredidit TER X.</s>iary of r atson D D . W comefrom,howwasitthatnoonesawitbyday? It mustbeconfessedthatthenaturalexplanationoffers almostasmanydifficultiesastheother. Andalways, apartfromthehound,thereisthefactofthehuman agencyinLondon,themaninthecab,andtheletter which warned Sir Henry against the moor. This at least was real, but it might have been the work of a protecting friend as easily as of an enemy. Where is that friend or enemy now? Has he remained in London, or has he followed us down here? Could he—could he be the stranger whom I saw upon the tor? It is true that I have had only the one glance at him, and yet there are some things to which I am readytoswear. HeisnoonewhomIhaveseendown here, and I have now met all the neighbours. The figurewasfartallerthanthatofStapleton,farthinner thanthatofFrankland. Barrymoreitmightpossibly havebeen,butwehadlefthimbehindus,andIam certainthathecouldnothavefollowedus. Astranger thenisstilldoggingus,justasastrangerdoggedus inLondon. Wehavenevershakenhimoff. IfIcould lay my hands upon that man, then at last we might findourselvesattheendofallourdifficulties. Tothis onepurposeImustnowdevoteallmyenergies.</s>MyfirstimpulsewastotellSirHenryallmyplans.</s>My second and wisest one is to play my own game andspeakaslittleaspossibletoanyone. Heissilent anddistrait. Hisnerveshavebeenstrangelyshaken by that sound upon the moor. I will say nothing to addtohisanxieties,butIwilltakemyownstepsto attainmyownend.</s>We had a small scene this morning after break- fast. BarrymoreaskedleavetospeakwithSirHenry, andtheywereclosetedinhisstudysomelittletime.</s>Sitting in the billiard-room I more than once heard the sound of voices raised, and I had a pretty good ideawhatthepointwaswhichwasunderdiscussion.</s>Afteratimethebaronetopenedhisdoorandcalled forme.</s>“Barrymoreconsidersthathehasagrievance,”he said. “Hethinksthatitwasunfaironourparttohunt hisbrother-in-lawdownwhenhe,ofhisownfreewill, hadtoldusthesecret.” The butler was standing very pale but very col- lectedbeforeus.</s>“Imayhavespokentoowarmly,sir,”saidhe,“and ifIhave,IamsurethatIbegyourpardon. Atthesame time, I was very much surprised when I heard youtwogentlemencomebackthismorningandlearned that you had been chasing Selden. The poor fellow hasenoughtofightagainstwithoutmyputtingmore uponhistrack.” “Ifyouhadtoldusofyourownfreewillitwould have been a different thing,” said the baronet, “you onlytoldus,orratheryourwifeonlytoldus,when itwasforcedfromyouandyoucouldnothelpyour- self.” “Ididn’tthink youwouldhavetakenadvantage ofit,SirHenry—indeedIdidn’t.” “The man is a public danger. There are lonely houses scattered over the moor, and he is a fellow whowouldstickatnothing. Youonlywanttogeta glimpseofhisfacetoseethat. LookatMr.Stapleton’s house,forexample,withnoonebuthimselftodefend it. There’snosafetyforanyoneuntilheisunderlock andkey.” “He’ll break into no house, sir. I give you my solemn word upon that. But he will never trouble anyoneinthiscountryagain. Iassureyou,SirHenry, that in a very few days the necessary arrangements will have been made and he will be on his way to SouthAmerica. ForGod’ssake,sir,Ibegofyounot toletthepoliceknowthatheisstillonthemoor. They have given up the chase there, and he can lie quiet untiltheshipisreadyforhim. Youcan’ttellonhim without getting my wife and me into trouble. I beg you,sir,tosaynothingtothepolice.” “Whatdoyousay,Watson?” I shrugged my shoulders. “If he were safely out ofthecountryitwouldrelievethetax-payerofabur- den.” “Buthowaboutthechanceofhisholdingsomeone upbeforehegoes?” “Hewouldnotdoanythingsomad,sir. Wehave providedhimwithallthathecanwant. Tocommita crimewouldbetoshowwherehewashiding.” “That is true,” said Sir Henry. “Well, Barry- more—” “Godblessyou,sir,andthankyoufrommyheart! Itwouldhavekilledmypoorwifehadhebeentaken again.” “Iguessweareaidingandabettingafelony,Wat- son? But,afterwhatwehaveheardIdon’tfeelasif Icouldgivethemanup,sothereisanendofit. All right,Barrymore,youcango.” With a few broken words of gratitude the man turned,buthehesitatedandthencameback.</s>“You’vebeensokindtous,sir,thatIshouldliketo dothebestIcanforyouinreturn. Iknowsomething, Sir Henry, and perhaps I should have said it before, but it was long after the inquest that I found it out.</s>I’veneverbreathedawordaboutityettomortalman.</s>It’saboutpoorSirCharles’sdeath.” The baronet andI were bothupon our feet. “Do youknowhowhedied?” “No,sir,Idon’tknowthat.” “Whatthen?” “I know why he was at the gate at that hour. It wastomeetawoman.” “Tomeetawoman! He?” “Yes,sir.” “Andthewoman’sname?” “Ican’tgiveyouthename,sir,butIcangiveyou theinitials. HerinitialswereL.L.” “Howdoyouknowthis,Barrymore?” “Well,SirHenry,yourunclehadaletterthatmorn- ing. Hehadusuallyagreatmanyletters,forhewasa publicmanandwellknownforhiskindheart,sothat everyonewhowasintroublewasgladtoturntohim.</s>Butthatmorning,asitchanced,therewasonlythis oneletter,soItookthemorenoticeofit. Itwasfrom CoombeTracey,anditwasaddressedinawoman’s hand.” “Well?” “Well, sir, I thought no more of the matter, and neverwouldhavedonehaditnotbeenformywife.</s>Only a few weeks ago she was cleaning out Sir Charles’sstudy—ithadneverbeentouchedsincehis death—and she found the ashes of a burned letter in the back of the grate. The greater part of it was charredtopieces,butonelittleslip,theendofapage, hung together, and the writing could still be read, though it was gray on a black ground. It seemed to us to be a postscript at the end of the letter, and it said: ‘Please, please, as you are a gentleman, burn thisletter,andbeatthegatebyteno’clock’. Beneath itweresignedtheinitialsL.L.” “Haveyougotthatslip?” “No,sir,itcrumbledalltobitsafterwemovedit.” “HadSirCharlesreceivedanyotherlettersinthe samewriting?” “Well,sir,Itooknoparticularnoticeofhisletters.</s>Ishouldnothavenoticedthisone,onlyithappened tocomealone.” “AndyouhavenoideawhoL.L.is?”“No, sir. No more than you have. But I expect ifwecouldlayourhandsuponthatladyweshould knowmoreaboutSirCharles’sdeath.” “Icannotunderstand,Barrymore,howyoucame toconcealthisimportantinformation.” “Well,sir, itwasimmediatelyafterthatourown troublecametous. Andthenagain,sir,wewereboth of us very fond of Sir Charles, as we well might be consideringallthathehasdoneforus. Torakethis upcouldn’thelpourpoormaster,andit’swelltogo carefully when there’s a lady in the case. Even the bestofus—” “Youthoughtitmightinjurehisreputation?” “Well,sir,Ithoughtnogoodcouldcomeofit. But nowyouhavebeenkindtous,andIfeelasifitwould betreatingyouunfairlynottotellyouallthatIknow aboutthematter.” “Very good, Barrymore; you can go.” When the butler had left us Sir Henry turned to me. “Well, Watson,whatdoyouthinkofthisnewlight?” “Itseemstoleavethedarknessratherblackerthan before.” “SoIthink. ButifwecanonlytraceL.L.itshould clear up the whole business. We have gained that much. We know that there is someone who has the factsifwecanonlyfindher. Whatdoyouthinkwe shoulddo?” “LetHolmesknowallaboutitatonce. Itwillgive him the clue for which he has been seeking. I am muchmistakenifitdoesnotbringhimdown.” Iwentatoncetomyroomanddrewupmyreport of the morning’s conversation for Holmes. It was evidenttomethathehadbeenverybusyoflate,for the notes which I had from Baker Street were few andshort,withnocommentsupontheinformation whichIhadsuppliedandhardlyanyreferencetomy mission. Nodoubthisblackmailingcaseisabsorbing allhisfaculties. Andyetthisnewfactormustsurely arresthisattentionandrenewhisinterest. Iwishthat hewerehere.</s>October 17th.—All day to-day the rain poured down,rustlingontheivyanddrippingfromtheeaves.</s>Ithoughtoftheconvictoutuponthebleak,cold,shel- terless moor. Poor devil! Whatever his crimes, he hassufferedsomethingtoatoneforthem. Andthen I thought of that other one—the face in the cab, the figureagainstthemoon. Washealsooutinthatdel- uged—theunseenwatcher,themanofdarkness? In theeveningIputonmywaterproofandIwalkedfar upon the sodden moor, full of dark imaginings, the rain beating upon my face and the wind whistling aboutmyears. Godhelpthosewhowanderintothe greatmirenow,foreventhefirmuplandsarebecom- ingamorass. IfoundtheblacktoruponwhichIhad seenthesolitarywatcher,andfromitscraggysummit I looked out myself across the melancholy downs.</s>Rainsquallsdriftedacrosstheirrussetface,andthe heavy,slate-colouredcloudshunglowovertheland- scape,trailingingraywreathsdownthesidesofthe fantastic hills. In the distant hollow on the left, half hiddenbythemist,thetwothintowersofBaskerville Hall rose above the trees. They were the only signs ofhumanlifewhichIcouldsee,saveonlythosepre- historichutswhichlaythicklyupontheslopesofthe hills. Nowherewasthereanytraceofthatlonelyman whomIhadseenonthesamespottwonightsbefore.</s>AsIwalkedbackIwasovertakenbyDr.Mortimer drivinginhisdog-cartoveraroughmoorlandtrack whichledfromtheoutlyingfarmhouseofFoulmire.</s>Hehasbeenveryattentivetous,andhardlyadayhas passed that he has not called at the Hall to see how we were getting on. He insisted upon my climbing intohisdog-cart,andhegavemealifthomeward. I foundhimmuchtroubledoverthedisappearanceof hislittlespaniel. Ithadwanderedontothemoorand hadnevercomeback. Igavehimsuchconsolationas I might, but I thought of the pony on the Grimpen Mire,andIdonotfancythathewillseehislittledog again.</s>“Bytheway,Mortimer,”saidIaswejoltedalong theroughroad,“Isupposetherearefewpeopleliv- ingwithindrivingdistanceofthiswhomyoudonot know?” “Hardlyany,Ithink.” “Can you, then, tell me the name of any woman whoseinitialsareL.L.?” Hethoughtforafewminutes.</s>“No,”saidhe. “Thereareafewgipsiesandlabour- ingfolkforwhomIcan’tanswer,butamongthefarm- ersorgentrythereisnoonewhoseinitialsarethose.</s>Waitabitthough,”headdedafterapause. “Thereis Laura Lyons—her initials are L. L.—but she lives in CoombeTracey.” “Whoisshe?”Iasked.</s>“SheisFrankland’sdaughter.” “What! OldFranklandthecrank?” “Exactly. ShemarriedanartistnamedLyons,who camesketchingonthemoor. Heprovedtobeablack- guard and deserted her. The fault from what I hear may not have been entirely on one side. Her father refusedtohaveanythingtodowithherbecauseshe hadmarriedwithouthisconsent,andperhapsforoneor two other reasons as well. So, between the old sinner and the young one the girl has had a pretty badtime.” “Howdoesshelive?” “IfancyoldFranklandallowsherapittance,but itcannotbemore,forhisownaffairsareconsiderably involved. Whatevershemayhavedeservedonecould notallowhertogohopelesslytothebad. Herstory got about, and several of the people here did some- thingtoenablehertoearnanhonestliving. Stapleton did for one, and Sir Charles for another. I gave a trifle myself. It was to set her up in a typewriting business.” He wanted to know the object of my inquiries, butImanagedtosatisfyhiscuriositywithouttelling himtoomuch,forthereisnoreasonwhyweshould takeanyoneintoourconfidence. To-morrowmorning I shall find my way to Coombe Tracey, and if I can seethisMrs.LauraLyons,ofequivocalreputation,a longstepwillhavebeenmadetowardsclearingone incident in this chain of mysteries. I am certainly developingthewisdomoftheserpent,forwhenMor- timerpressedhisquestionstoaninconvenientextent IaskedhimcasuallytowhattypeFrankland’sskull belonged, and so heard nothing but craniology for the rest of our drive. I have not lived for years with SherlockHolmesfornothing.</s>Ihaveonlyoneotherincidenttorecorduponthis tempestuousandmelancholyday. Thiswasmycon- versation with Barrymore just now, which gives me onemorestrongcardwhichIcanplayinduetime.</s>Mortimer had stayed to dinner, and he and the baronetplayede´carte´ afterwards. Thebutlerbrought memycoffeeintothelibrary,andItookthechance toaskhimafewquestions.</s>“Well,”saidI,“hasthispreciousrelationofyours departed,orishestilllurkingoutyonder?” “I don’t know, sir. I hope to heaven that he has gone, for he has brought nothing but trouble here! I’venotheardofhimsinceIleftoutfoodforhimlast, andthatwasthreedaysago.” “Didyouseehimthen?” “No,sir,butthefoodwasgonewhennextIwent thatway.” “Thenhewascertainlythere?” “So you would think, sir, unless it was the other manwhotookit.” I sat with my coffee-cup halfway to my lips and staredatBarrymore.</s>“Youknowthatthereisanothermanthen?” “Yes,sir;thereisanothermanuponthemoor.” “Haveyouseenhim?” “No,sir.” “Howdoyouknowofhimthen?” “Selden told me of him, sir, a week ago or more.</s>He’s in hiding, too, but he’s not a convict as far as I can make out. I don’t like it, Dr. Watson—I tell youstraight,sir,thatIdon’tlikeit.”Hespokewitha suddenpassionofearnestness.</s>“Now, listen to me, Barrymore! I have no inter- est in this matter but that of your master. I have comeherewithnoobjectexcepttohelphim. Tellme, frankly,whatitisthatyoudon’tlike.” Barrymorehesitatedforamoment,asifheregret- ted his outburst, or found it difficult to express his ownfeelingsinwords.</s>“It’sallthesegoings-on,sir,”hecriedatlast,wav- inghishandtowardstherain-lashedwindowwhich faced the moor. “There’s foul play somewhere, and there’sblackvillainybrewing,tothatI’llswear! Very gladIshouldbe,sir,toseeSirHenryonhiswayback toLondonagain!” “Butwhatisitthatalarmsyou?” “Look at Sir Charles’s death! That was bad enough, for all that the coroner said. Look at the noisesonthemooratnight. There’snotamanwould cross itaftersundownif hewaspaid forit. Look at this stranger hiding out yonder, and watching and waiting! What’shewaitingfor? Whatdoesitmean? It meansnogoodtoanyoneofthenameofBaskerville, andverygladIshallbetobequitofitallontheday thatSirHenry’snewservantsarereadytotakeover theHall.” “Butaboutthisstranger,”saidI.“Canyoutellme anything about him? What did Selden say? Did he findoutwherehehid,orwhathewasdoing?” “Hesawhimonceortwice,butheisadeepone, and gives nothing away. At first he thought that he wasthepolice,butsoonhefoundthathehadsome lay of his own. A kind of gentleman he was, as far ashecouldsee,butwhathewasdoinghecouldnot makeout.” “Andwheredidhesaythathelived?” “Amongtheoldhousesonthehillside—thestone hutswheretheoldfolkusedtolive.” “Buthowabouthisfood?” “Seldenfoundoutthathehasgotaladwhoworks for him and brings him all he needs. I dare say he goestoCoombeTraceyforwhathewants.”“Very good, Barrymore. We may talk further of this some other time.” When the butler had gone I walked over to the black window, and I looked throughablurredpaneatthedrivingcloudsandat the tossing outline of the wind-swept trees. It is a wild night indoors, and what must it be in a stone hut upon the moor. What passion of hatred can it CHAP he an T M Theextractfrommyprivatediarywhichformsthe lastchapterhasbroughtmynarrativeuptothe18th of October, a time when these strange events began tomoveswiftlytowardstheirterribleconclusion. The incidents of the next few days are indelibly graven upon my recollection, and I can tell them without reference to the notes made at the time. I start then fromthedaywhichsucceededthatuponwhichIhad establishedtwofactsofgreatimportance,theonethat Mrs.LauraLyonsofCoombeTraceyhadwrittentoSir CharlesBaskervilleandmadeanappointmentwith himattheveryplaceandhourthathemethisdeath, the other that the lurking man upon the moor was tobefoundamongthestonehutsuponthehill-side.</s>WiththesetwofactsinmypossessionIfeltthateither myintelligenceormycouragemustbedeficientifI couldnotthrowsomefurtherlightuponthesedark places.</s>IhadnoopportunitytotellthebaronetwhatIhad learnedaboutMrs.Lyonsupontheeveningbefore,for Dr.Mortimerremainedwithhimatcardsuntilitwas verylate. Atbreakfast,however,Iinformedhimabout mydiscovery,andaskedhimwhetherhewouldcare toaccompanymetoCoombeTracey. Atfirsthewas veryeagertocome,butonsecondthoughtsitseemed tobothofusthatifIwentalonetheresultsmightbe better. The more formal we made the visit the less informationwemightobtain. IleftSirHenrybehind, therefore,notwithoutsomeprickingsofconscience, anddroveoffuponmynewquest.</s>WhenIreachedCoombeTraceyItoldPerkinsto putupthehorses,andImadeinquiriesforthelady whomIhadcometointerrogate. Ihadnodifficulty in finding her rooms, which were central and well bewhichleadsamantolurkinsuchaplaceatsuch atime! Andwhatdeepandearnestpurposecanhe have which calls for such a trial! There, in that hut upon the moor, seems to lie the very centre of that problemwhichhasvexedmesosorely. Iswearthat anotherdayshallnothavepassedbeforeIhavedone allthatmancandotoreachtheheartofthemystery.</s>TER XI.</s>on the or T appointed. Amaidshowedmeinwithoutceremony, andasIenteredthesitting-roomalady,whowassit- tingbeforeaRemingtontypewriter,sprangupwith a pleasant smile of welcome. Her face fell, however, whenshesawthatIwasastranger,andshesatdown againandaskedmetheobjectofmyvisit.</s>ThefirstimpressionleftbyMrs.Lyonswasoneof extremebeauty. Hereyesandhairwereofthesame rich hazel colour, and her cheeks, though consider- ablyfreckled,wereflushedwiththeexquisitebloom of the brunette, the dainty pink which lurks at the heart ofthe sulphur rose. Admirationwas, I repeat, the first impression. But the second was criticism.</s>There was something subtly wrong with the face, some coarseness of expression, some hardness, per- haps,ofeye,someloosenessoflipwhichmarredits perfectbeauty. Butthese,ofcourse,areafter-thoughts.</s>AtthemomentIwassimplyconsciousthatIwasin the presence of a very handsome woman, and that shewasaskingmethereasonsformyvisit. Ihadnot quiteunderstooduntilthatinstanthowdelicatemy missionwas.</s>“I have the pleasure,” said I, “of knowing your father.” It was a clumsy introduction, and the lady mademefeelit.</s>“There is nothing in common between my fa- ther and me,” she said. “I owe him nothing, and his friends are not mine. If it were not for the late SirCharlesBaskervilleandsomeotherkindheartsI mighthavestarvedforallthatmyfathercared.” “ItwasaboutthelateSirCharlesBaskervillethat Ihavecomeheretoseeyou.” Thefrecklesstartedoutonthelady’sface.“WhatcanItellyouabouthim?”sheasked,and her fingers played nervously over the stops of her typewriter.</s>“Youknewhim,didyounot?” “IhavealreadysaidthatIoweagreatdealtohis kindness. IfIamabletosupportmyselfitislargely due to the interest which he took in my unhappy situation.” “Didyoucorrespondwithhim?” Theladylookedquicklyupwithanangrygleam inherhazeleyes.</s>“Whatistheobjectofthesequestions?”sheasked sharply.</s>“Theobjectistoavoidapublicscandal. Itisbet- ter that I should ask them here than that the matter shouldpassoutsideourcontrol.” She was silent and her face was still very pale.</s>At last she looked up with something reckless and defiantinhermanner.</s>“Well,I’llanswer,”shesaid. “Whatareyourques- tions?” “DidyoucorrespondwithSirCharles?” “Icertainlywrotetohimonceortwicetoacknowl- edgehisdelicacyandhisgenerosity.” “Haveyouthedatesofthoseletters?” “No.” “Haveyouevermethim?” “Yes, once or twice, when he came into Coombe Tracey. Hewasaveryretiringman,andhepreferred todogoodbystealth.” “Butifyousawhimsoseldomandwrotesosel- dom,howdidheknowenoughaboutyouraffairsto beabletohelpyou,asyousaythathehasdone?” Shemetmydifficultywiththeutmostreadiness.</s>“Therewereseveralgentlemenwhoknewmysad historyandunitedtohelpme. OnewasMr.Stapleton, aneighbourandintimatefriendofSirCharles’s. He was exceedingly kind, and it was through him that SirCharleslearnedaboutmyaffairs.” I knew already that Sir Charles Baskerville had madeStapletonhisalmoneruponseveraloccasions, sothelady’sstatementboretheimpressoftruthupon it.</s>“DidyoueverwritetoSirCharlesaskinghimto meetyou?”Icontinued.</s>Mrs.Lyonsflushedwithangeragain.</s>“Really,sir,thisisaveryextraordinaryquestion.” “Iamsorry,madam,butImustrepeatit.” “ThenIanswer,certainlynot.” “NotontheverydayofSirCharles’sdeath?” The flush had faded in an instant, and a deathly facewasbeforeme. Herdrylipscouldnotspeakthe “No”whichIsawratherthanheard.</s>“Surely your memory deceives you,” said I. “I could even quote a passage of your letter. It ran ‘Please, please, as you are a gentleman, burn this letter,andbeatthegatebyteno’clock.‘” Ithoughtthatshehadfainted,butsherecovered herselfbyasupremeeffort.</s>“Is there no such thing as a gentleman?” she gasped.</s>“YoudoSirCharlesaninjustice. Hedidburnthe letter. But sometimes a letter may be legible even whenburned. Youacknowledgenowthatyouwrote it?” “Yes, I did write it,” she cried, pouring out her soul in a torrent of words. “I did write it. Why shouldIdenyit? Ihavenoreasontobeashamedof it. I wished him to help me. I believed that if I had aninterviewIcouldgainhishelp,soIaskedhimto meetme.” “Butwhyatsuchanhour?” “BecauseIhadonlyjustlearnedthathewasgoing to London next day and might be away for months.</s>TherewerereasonswhyIcouldnotgetthereearlier.” “Butwhyarendezvousinthegardeninsteadofa visittothehouse?” “Do you think a woman could go alone at that hourtoabachelor’shouse?” “Well,whathappenedwhenyoudidgetthere?” “Ineverwent.” “Mrs.Lyons!” “No,IswearittoyouonallIholdsacred. Inever went. Somethingintervenedtopreventmygoing.” “Whatwasthat?” “Thatisaprivatematter. Icannottellit.” “Youacknowledgethenthatyoumadeanappoint- ment with Sir Charles at the very hour and place at whichhemethisdeath,butyoudenythatyoukept theappointment.” “Thatisthetruth.” AgainandagainIcross-questionedher,butIcould nevergetpastthatpoint.</s>“Mrs.Lyons,”saidI,asIrosefromthislongand inconclusiveinterview,“youaretakingaverygreatresponsibilityandputtingyourselfinaveryfalsepo- sitionbynotmakinganabsolutelycleanbreastofall thatyouknow. IfIhavetocallintheaidofthepolice youwillfindhowseriouslyyouarecompromised. If your position is innocent, why did you in the first instancedenyhavingwrittentoSirCharlesuponthat date?” “BecauseIfearedthatsomefalseconclusionmight be drawn from it and that I might find myself in- volvedinascandal.” “AndwhywereyousopressingthatSirCharles shoulddestroyyourletter?” “Ifyouhavereadtheletteryouwillknow.” “IdidnotsaythatIhadreadalltheletter.” “Youquotedsomeofit.” “Iquotedthepostscript. Theletterhad,asIsaid, beenburnedanditwasnotalllegible. Iaskyouonce again why it was that you were so pressing that Sir Charlesshoulddestroythisletterwhichhereceived onthedayofhisdeath.” “Thematterisaveryprivateone.” “Themorereasonwhyyoushouldavoidapublic investigation.” “Iwilltellyou,then. Ifyouhaveheardanything ofmyunhappyhistoryyouwillknowthatImadea rashmarriageandhadreasontoregretit.” “Ihaveheardsomuch.” “Mylifehasbeenoneincessantpersecutionfrom a husband whom I abhor. The law is upon his side, and every day I am faced by the possibility that he may force me to live with him. At the time that I wrote this letter to Sir Charles I had learned that there was a prospect of my regaining my free- dom if certain expenses could be met. It meant everything to me—peace of mind, happiness, self- respect—everything. IknewSirCharles’sgenerosity, andIthoughtthatifheheardthestoryfrommyown lipshewouldhelpme.” “Thenhowisitthatyoudidnotgo?” “Because I received help in the interval from an- othersource.” “Whythen,didyounotwritetoSirCharlesand explainthis?” “So I should have done had I not seen his death inthepapernextmorning.” Thewoman’sstoryhungcoherentlytogether,and all my questions were unable to shake it. I could onlycheckitbyfindingifshehad,indeed,instituted divorceproceedingsagainstherhusbandatorabout thetimeofthetragedy.</s>Itwasunlikelythatshewoulddaretosaythatshe hadnotbeentoBaskervilleHallifshereallyhadbeen, foratrapwouldbenecessarytotakeherthere,and couldnothavereturnedtoCoombeTraceyuntilthe earlyhoursofthemorning. Suchanexcursioncould not be kept secret. The probability was, therefore, thatshewastellingthetruth,or,atleast,apartofthe truth. I came away baffled and disheartened. Once againIhadreachedthatdeadwallwhichseemedto be built across every path by which I tried to get at theobjectofmymission. AndyetthemoreIthought of the lady’s face and of her manner the more I felt that something was being held back from me. Why shouldsheturnsopale? Whyshouldshefightagainst every admission until it was forced from her? Why should she have been so reticent at the time of the tragedy? Surelytheexplanationofallthiscouldnot beasinnocentasshewouldhavemebelieve. Forthe momentIcouldproceednofartherinthatdirection, butmustturnbacktothatothercluewhichwastobe soughtforamongthestonehutsuponthemoor.</s>Andthatwasamostvaguedirection. Irealizedit asIdrovebackandnotedhowhillafterhillshowed tracesoftheancientpeople. Barrymore’sonlyindica- tionhadbeenthatthestrangerlivedinoneofthese abandoned huts, and many hundreds of them are scattered throughout the length and breadth of the moor. ButIhadmyownexperienceforaguidesince ithadshownmethemanhimselfstandinguponthe summitoftheBlackTor. Thatthenshouldbethecen- treofmysearch. FromthereIshouldexploreevery hutuponthemooruntilIlightedupontherightone.</s>IfthismanwereinsideitIshouldfindoutfromhis ownlips,atthepointofmyrevolverifnecessary,who hewasandwhyhehaddoggedussolong. Hemight slipawayfromusinthecrowdofRegentStreet,butit wouldpuzzlehimtodosouponthelonelymoor. On theotherhand,ifIshouldfindthehutanditstenant shouldnotbewithinitImustremainthere,however longthevigil,untilhereturned. Holmeshadmissed him in London. It would indeed be a triumph for meifIcouldrunhimtoearth,wheremymasterhad failed.</s>Luckhadbeenagainstusagainandagaininthis inquiry, but now at last it came to my aid. And themessengerofgoodfortunewasnoneotherthan Mr. Frankland, who was standing, gray-whiskered andred-faced,outsidethegateofhisgarden,which openedontothehighroadalongwhichItravelled.“Good-day,Dr.Watson,”criedhewithunwonted good humour, “you must really give your horses a rest,andcomeintohaveaglassofwineandtocon- gratulateme.” Myfeelingstowardshimwereveryfarfrombeing friendly after what I had heard of his treatment of hisdaughter,butIwasanxioustosendPerkinsand thewagonettehome,andtheopportunitywasagood one. IalightedandsentamessagetoSirHenrythatI shouldwalkoverintimefordinner. ThenIfollowed Franklandintohisdining-room.</s>“Itisagreatdayforme,sir—oneofthered-letter days of my life,” he cried with many chuckles. “I have brought off a double event. I mean to teach theminthesepartsthatlawislaw,andthatthereis a man here who does not fear to invoke it. I have established a right of way through the centre of old Middleton’spark,slapacrossit,sir,withinahundred yards of his own front door. What do you think of that? We’ll teach these magnates that they cannot ride roughshod over the rights of the commoners, confoundthem! AndI’veclosedthewoodwherethe Fernworthyfolkusedtopicnic. Theseinfernalpeople seemtothinkthattherearenorightsofproperty,and thattheycanswarmwheretheylikewiththeirpapers andtheirbottles. Bothcasesdecided,Dr.Watson,and both in my favour. I haven’t had such a day since I hadSirJohnMorlandfortrespass,becauseheshotin hisownwarren.” “Howonearthdidyoudothat?” “Look it up in the books, sir. It will repay read- ing—Franklandv.Morland,CourtofQueen’sBench.</s>Itcostme200pounds,butIgotmyverdict.” “Diditdoyouanygood?” “None,sir,none. IamproudtosaythatIhadno interest in the matter. I act entirely from a sense of public duty. I have no doubt, for example, that the Fernworthypeoplewillburnmeineffigyto-night. I toldthepolicelasttimetheydiditthattheyshould stopthesedisgracefulexhibitions. TheCountyCon- stabulary is in a scandalous state, sir, and it has not afforded me the protection to which I am entitled.</s>ThecaseofFranklandv.Reginawillbringthematter before the attention of the public. I told them that theywouldhaveoccasiontoregrettheirtreatmentof me,andalreadymywordshavecometrue.” “Howso?”Iasked.</s>Theoldmanputonaveryknowingexpression.</s>“Because I could tell them what they are dying to know; but nothing would induce me to help the rascalsinanyway.” Ihadbeencastingroundforsomeexcusebywhich I could get away from his gossip, but now I began towishtohearmoreofit. Ihadseenenoughofthe contrarynatureoftheoldsinnertounderstandthat anystrongsignofinterestwouldbethesurestwayto stophisconfidences.</s>“Somepoachingcase,nodoubt?”saidI,withan indifferentmanner.</s>“Ha,ha,myboy,averymuchmoreimportantmat- terthanthat! Whatabouttheconvictonthemoor?” Istarted. “Youdon’tmeanthatyouknowwhere heis?”saidI.</s>“I may not know exactly where he is, but I am quite sure that I could help the police to lay their handsonhim. Hasitneverstruckyouthattheway to catch that man was to find out where he got his food,andsotraceittohim?” Hecertainlyseemedtobegettinguncomfortably nearthetruth. “Nodoubt,”saidI;“buthowdoyou knowthatheisanywhereuponthemoor?” “IknowitbecauseIhaveseenwithmyowneyes themessengerwhotakeshimhisfood.” My heart sank for Barrymore. It was a serious thingtobeinthepowerofthisspitefuloldbusybody.</s>Buthisnextremarktookaweightfrommymind.</s>“You’llbesurprisedtohearthathisfoodistaken to him by a child. I see him every day through my telescope upon the roof. He passes along the same path at the same hour, and to whom should he be goingexcepttotheconvict?” Here was luck indeed! And yet I suppressed all appearanceofinterest. Achild! Barrymorehadsaid thatourunknownwassuppliedbyaboy. Itwason histrack,andnotupontheconvict’s,thatFrankland hadstumbled. IfIcouldgethisknowledgeitmight savemealongandwearyhunt. Butincredulityand indifferencewereevidentlymystrongestcards.</s>“Ishouldsaythatitwasmuchmorelikelythatit wasthesonofoneofthemoorlandshepherdstaking outhisfather’sdinner.” Theleastappearanceofoppositionstruckfireout of the old autocrat. His eyes looked malignantly at me, and his gray whiskers bristled like those of an angrycat.</s>“Indeed,sir!”saidhe,pointingoutoverthewide- stretching moor. “Do you see that Black Tor over yonder? Well, do you see the low hill beyond with the thornbush upon it? It is the stoniest part of the wholemoor. Isthataplacewhereashepherdwouldbelikelytotakehisstation? Yoursuggestion,sir,isa mostabsurdone.” I meekly answered that I had spoken without knowing all the facts. My submission pleased him andledhimtofurtherconfidences.</s>“You may be sure, sir, that I have very good grounds before I come to an opinion. I have seen theboyagainandagainwithhisbundle. Everyday, and sometimes twice a day, I have been able—but waitamoment,Dr.Watson. Domyeyesdeceiveme, oristhereatthepresentmomentsomethingmoving uponthathill-side?” Itwasseveralmilesoff,butIcoulddistinctlysee asmalldarkdotagainstthedullgreenandgray.</s>“Come, sir, come!” cried Frankland, rushing up- stairs. “You will see with your own eyes and judge foryourself.” Thetelescope,aformidableinstrumentmounted uponatripod,stoodupontheflatleadsofthehouse.</s>Frankland clapped his eye to it and gave a cry of satisfaction.</s>“Quick,Dr.Watson,quick,beforehepassesover thehill!” There he was, sure enough, a small urchin with a little bundle upon his shoulder, toiling slowly up thehill. WhenhereachedthecrestIsawtheragged uncouth figure outlined for an instant against the cold blue sky. He looked round him with a furtive andstealthyair,asonewhodreadspursuit. Thenhe vanishedoverthehill.</s>“Well! AmIright?” “Certainly,thereisaboywhoseemstohavesome secreterrand.” “Andwhattheerrandisevenacountyconstable couldguess. Butnotonewordshalltheyhavefrom me,andIbindyoutosecrecyalso,Dr.Watson. Nota word! Youunderstand!” “Justasyouwish.” “They have treated me shamefully—shamefully.</s>When the facts come out in Frankland v. Regina I venture to think that a thrill of indignation will run through the country. Nothing would induce me to helpthepoliceinanyway. Foralltheycareditmight havebeenme,insteadofmyeffigy,whichtheseras- cals burned at the stake. Surely you are not going! Youwillhelpmetoemptythedecanterinhonourof thisgreatoccasion!” But I resisted all his solicitations and succeeded in dissuading him from his announced intention of walkinghomewithme. Ikepttheroadaslongashis eyewasonme,andthenIstruckoffacrossthemoor andmadeforthestonyhilloverwhichtheboyhad disappeared. Everythingwasworkinginmyfavour, andIsworethatitshouldnotbethroughlackofen- ergy or perseverance that I should miss the chance whichfortunehadthrowninmyway.</s>ThesunwasalreadysinkingwhenIreachedthe summit of the hill, and the long slopes beneath me wereallgolden-greenononesideandgrayshadowon theother. Ahazelaylowuponthefarthestsky-line, out of which jutted the fantastic shapes of Belliver andVixenTor. Overthewideexpansetherewasno soundandnomovement. Onegreatgraybird,agull orcurlew, soaredaloftintheblueheaven. HeandI seemedtobetheonlylivingthingsbetweenthehuge archoftheskyandthedesertbeneathit. Thebarren scene, the sense of loneliness, and the mystery and urgency of my task all struck a chill into my heart.</s>Theboywasnowheretobeseen. Butdownbeneath meinacleftofthehillstherewasacircleoftheold stonehuts,andinthemiddleofthemtherewasone whichretainedsufficientrooftoactasascreenagainst the weather. My heart leaped within me as I saw it.</s>Thismustbe theburrowwherethestranger lurked.</s>At last my foot was on the threshold of his hiding place—hissecretwaswithinmygrasp.</s>As I approached the hut, walking as warily as Stapleton would do when with poised net he drew near the settled butterfly, I satisfied myself that the placehadindeedbeenusedasahabitation. Avague pathway among the boulders led to the dilapidated openingwhichservedasadoor. Allwassilentwithin.</s>Theunknownmightbelurkingthere,orhemightbe prowling on the moor. My nerves tingled with the sense of adventure. Throwing aside my cigarette, I closed my hand upon the butt of my revolver and, walkingswiftlyuptothedoor,Ilookedin. Theplace wasempty.</s>But there were ample signs that I had not come uponafalsescent. Thiswascertainlywheretheman lived. Someblanketsrolledinawaterprooflayupon that very stone slab upon which Neolithic man had once slumbered. The ashes of a fire were heaped in a rude grate. Beside it lay some cooking utensils andabuckethalf-fullofwater. Alitterofemptytins showed that the place had been occupied for some time, and I saw, as my eyes became accustomed to thecheckeredlight,apannikinandahalf-fullbottle ofspiritsstandinginthecorner. Inthemiddleofthe hut a flat stone served the purpose of a table, and uponthisstoodasmallclothbundle—thesame, no doubt,whichIhadseenthroughthetelescopeupontheshoulderoftheboy. Itcontainedaloafofbread, a tinned tongue, and two tins of preserved peaches.</s>AsIsetitdownagain,afterhavingexaminedit,my heartleapedtoseethatbeneathittherelayasheetof paperwithwritinguponit. Iraisedit,andthiswas whatIread,roughlyscrawledinpencil:— Dr.WatsonhasgonetoCoombeTracey.</s>For a minute I stood there with the paper in my hands thinking out the meaning of this curt mes- sage. It was I, then, and not Sir Henry, who was being dogged by this secret man. He had not fol- lowedmehimself,buthehadsetanagent—theboy, perhaps—uponmytrack,andthiswashisreport. Pos- sibly I had taken no step since I had been upon the moorwhichhadnotbeenobservedandreported. Al- waystherewasthisfeelingofanunseenforce,afine net drawn round us with infinite skill and delicacy, holdingussolightlythatitwasonlyatsomesupreme momentthatonerealizedthatonewasindeedentan- gledinitsmeshes.</s>Iftherewasonereporttheremightbeothers,soI lookedroundthehutinsearchofthem. Therewasno trace,however,ofanythingofthekind,norcouldIdis- coveranysignwhichmightindicatethecharacteror intentionsofthemanwholivedinthissingularplace, savethathemustbeofSpartanhabitsandcaredlittle forthecomfortsoflife. WhenIthoughtoftheheavy rainsandlookedatthegapingroofIunderstoodhow strong and immutable must be the purpose which hadkepthiminthatinhospitableabode. Washeour malignantenemy,orwashebychanceourguardian CHAP eath on D ForamomentortwoIsatbreathless,hardlyable to believe my ears. Then my senses and my voice camebacktome,whileacrushingweightofrespon- sibilityseemedinaninstanttobeliftedfrommysoul.</s>Thatcold,incisive,ironicalvoicecouldbelongtobut onemaninalltheworld.</s>“Holmes!”Icried—“Holmes!” “Comeout,”saidhe,“andpleasebecarefulwith therevolver.” angel? IsworethatIwouldnotleavethehutuntilI knew.</s>Outsidethesunwassinkinglowandthewestwas blazingwithscarletandgold. Itsreflectionwasshot backinruddypatchesbythedistantpoolswhichlay amid the great Grimpen Mire. There were the two towers of Baskerville Hall, and there a distant blur ofsmokewhichmarkedthevillageofGrimpen. Be- tweenthetwo,behindthehill,wasthehouseofthe Stapletons. Allwassweet andmellowand peaceful in the golden evening light, and yet as I looked at themmysoulsharednoneofthepeaceofnaturebut quiveredatthevaguenessandtheterrorofthatinter- viewwhicheveryinstantwasbringingnearer. With tinglingnerves,butafixedpurpose,Isatinthedark recessofthehutandwaitedwithsombrepatiencefor thecomingofitstenant.</s>AndthenatlastIheardhim. Farawaycamethe sharp clink of a boot striking upon a stone. Then anotherandyetanother,comingnearerandnearer. I shrankbackintothedarkestcorner,andcockedthe pistolinmypocket,determinednottodiscovermy- selfuntilIhadanopportunityofseeingsomethingof thestranger. Therewasalongpausewhichshowed that he had stopped. Then once more the footsteps approachedandashadowfellacrosstheopeningof thehut.</s>“It is a lovely evening, my dear Watson,” said a well-known voice. “I really think that you will be morecomfortableoutsidethanin.” TER XII.</s>the oor M I stooped under the rude lintel, and there he sat upon a stone outside, his gray eyes dancing with amusementastheyfelluponmyastonishedfeatures.</s>He was thin and worn, but clear and alert, his keen facebronzedbythesunandroughenedbythewind.</s>In his tweed suit and cloth cap he looked like any other tourist upon the moor, and he had contrived, withthatcat-likeloveofpersonalcleanlinesswhich wasoneofhischaracteristics,thathischinshouldbe as smooth and his linen as perfect as if he were inBakerStreet.</s>“Ineverwasmoregladtoseeanyoneinmylife,” saidI,asIwrunghimbythehand.</s>“Ormoreastonished,eh?” “Well,Imustconfesstoit.” “The surprise was not all on one side, I assure you. Ihadnoideathatyouhadfoundmyoccasional retreat, still less that you were inside it, until I was withintwentypacesofthedoor.” “Myfootprint,Ipresume?” “No,Watson;IfearthatIcouldnotundertaketo recognizeyourfootprintamidallthefootprintsofthe world. Ifyouseriouslydesiretodeceivemeyoumust changeyourtobacconist;forwhenIseethestubofa cigarettemarkedBradley,OxfordStreet,Iknowthat myfriendWatsonisintheneighbourhood. Youwill see it there beside the path. You threw it down, no doubt, at that supreme moment when you charged intotheemptyhut.” “Exactly.” “Ithoughtasmuch—andknowingyouradmirable tenacityIwasconvincedthatyouweresittinginam- bush,aweaponwithinreach,waitingforthetenant to return. So you actually thought that I was the criminal?” “I did not know who you were, but I was deter- minedtofindout.” “Excellent,Watson! Andhowdidyoulocalizeme? Yousawme,perhaps,onthenightoftheconvicthunt, whenIwassoimprudentastoallowthemoontorise behindme?” “Yes,Isawyouthen.” “And have no doubt searched all the huts until youcametothisone?” “No,yourboyhadbeenobserved,andthatgave meaguidewheretolook.” “Theoldgentlemanwiththetelescope,nodoubt.</s>I could not make it out when first I saw the light flashinguponthelens.”Heroseandpeepedintothe hut. “Ha,IseethatCartwrighthasbroughtupsome supplies. What’s this paper? So you have been to CoombeTracey,haveyou?” “Yes.” “ToseeMrs.LauraLyons?” “Exactly.” “Well done! Our researches have evidently been runningonparallellines,andwhenweuniteourre- sultsIexpectweshallhaveafairlyfullknowledgeof thecase.” “Well,Iamgladfrommyheartthatyouarehere, for indeed the responsibility and the mystery were bothbecomingtoomuchformynerves. Buthowin the name of wonder did you come here, and what have you been doing? I thought that you were in BakerStreetworkingoutthatcaseofblackmailing.” “ThatwaswhatIwishedyoutothink.” “Then you use me, and yet do not trust me!” I cried with some bitterness. “I think that I have de- servedbetteratyourhands,Holmes.” “Mydearfellow,youhavebeeninvaluabletome inthisasinmanyothercases,andIbegthatyouwill forgivemeifIhaveseemedtoplayatrickuponyou.</s>In truth, it was partly for your own sake that I did it, and it was my appreciation of the danger which you ran which led me to come down and examine the matter for myself. Had I been with Sir Henry andyouitisconfidentthatmypointofviewwould havebeenthesameasyours,andmypresencewould havewarnedourveryformidableopponentstobeon theirguard. Asitis,IhavebeenabletogetaboutasI couldnotpossiblyhavedonehadIbeenlivinginthe Hall,andIremainanunknownfactorinthebusiness, readytothrowinallmyweightatacriticalmoment.” “Butwhykeepmeinthedark?” “Foryoutoknowcouldnothavehelpedus,and mightpossiblyhaveledtomydiscovery. Youwould have wished to tell me something, or in your kind- nessyouwouldhavebroughtmeoutsomecomfort orother,andsoanunnecessaryriskwouldberun. I broughtCartwrightdownwithme—youremember thelittlechapattheexpressoffice—andhehasseen after my simple wants: a loaf of bread and a clean collar. Whatdoesmanwantmore? Hehasgivenme an extra pair of eyes upon a very active pair of feet, andbothhavebeeninvaluable.” “Then my reports have all been wasted!”—My voice trembled as I recalled the pains and the pride withwhichIhadcomposedthem.</s>Holmestookabundleofpapersfromhispocket.</s>“Hereareyourreports,mydearfellow,andvery wellthumbed,Iassureyou. Imadeexcellentarrange- ments,andtheyareonlydelayedonedayupontheir way. I must compliment you exceedingly upon the zealandtheintelligencewhichyouhaveshownover anextraordinarilydifficultcase.” Iwasstillratherrawoverthedeceptionwhichhad beenpractiseduponme,butthewarmthofHolmes’s praise drove my anger from my mind. I felt also in myheartthathewasrightinwhathesaidandthatitwasreallybestforourpurposethatIshouldnothave knownthathewasuponthemoor.</s>“That’s better,” said he, seeing the shadow rise from my face. “And now tell me the result of your visittoMrs.LauraLyons—itwasnotdifficultforme to guess that it was to see her that you had gone, forIamalreadyawarethatsheistheonepersonin CoombeTraceywhomightbeofservicetousinthe matter. Infact,ifyouhadnotgoneto-dayitisexceed- inglyprobablethatIshouldhavegoneto-morrow.” The sun had set and dusk was settling over the moor. Theairhadturnedchillandwewithdrewinto the hut for warmth. There, sitting together in the twilight,ItoldHolmesofmyconversationwiththe lady. SointerestedwashethatIhadtorepeatsome ofittwicebeforehewassatisfied.</s>“Thisismostimportant,”saidhewhenIhadcon- cluded. “It fills up a gap which I had been unable tobridge,inthismostcomplexaffair. Youareaware, perhaps,thatacloseintimacyexistsbetweenthislady andthemanStapleton?” “Ididnotknowofacloseintimacy.” “There can be no doubt about the matter. They meet, they write, there is a complete understand- ing between them. Now, this puts a very powerful weaponintoourhands. IfIcouldonlyuseittodetach hiswife—” “Hiswife?” “Iamgivingyousomeinformationnow,inreturn for all that you have given me. The lady who has passedhereasMissStapletonisinrealityhiswife.” “Good heavens, Holmes! Are you sure of what yousay? HowcouldhehavepermittedSirHenryto fallinlovewithher?” “Sir Henry’s falling in love could do no harm to anyoneexceptSirHenry. Hetookparticularcarethat SirHenrydidnotmakelovetoher,asyouhaveyour- self observed. I repeat that the lady is his wife and nothissister.” “Butwhythiselaboratedeception?” “Becauseheforesawthatshewouldbeverymuch moreusefultohiminthecharacterofafreewoman.” Allmyunspokeninstincts,myvaguesuspicions, suddenlytookshapeandcentreduponthenaturalist.</s>Inthatimpassive,colourlessman,withhisstrawhat andhisbutterfly-net,Iseemedtoseesomethingterri- ble—acreatureof infinitepatienceandcraft, with a smilingfaceandamurderousheart.</s>“It is he, then, who is our enemy—it is he who doggedusinLondon?” “SoIreadtheriddle.” “Andthewarning—itmusthavecomefromher!” “Exactly.” Theshapeofsomemonstrousvillainy,halfseen, half guessed, loomed through the darkness which hadgirtmesolong.</s>“But are you sure of this, Holmes? How do you knowthatthewomanishiswife?” “Becausehesofarforgothimselfastotellyoua truepieceofautobiographyupontheoccasionwhen he first met you, and I dare say he has many a time regretteditsince. Hewasonceaschoolmasterinthe northofEngland. Now,thereisnoonemoreeasyto tracethanaschoolmaster. Therearescholasticagen- cies by which one may identify any man who has beenintheprofession. Alittleinvestigationshowed me that a school had come to grief under atrocious circumstances, and that the man who had owned it—the name was different—had disappeared with his wife. The descriptions agreed. When I learned thatthemissingmanwasdevotedtoentomologythe identificationwascomplete.” The darkness was rising, but much was still hid- denbytheshadows.</s>“If this woman is in truth his wife, where does Mrs.LauraLyonscomein?”Iasked.</s>“Thatisoneofthepointsuponwhichyourown researches have shed a light. Your interview with the lady has cleared the situation very much. I did notknowaboutaprojecteddivorcebetweenherself and her husband. In that case, regarding Stapleton as an unmarried man, she counted no doubt upon becominghiswife.” “Andwhensheisundeceived?” “Why, then we may find the lady of service. It must be our first duty to see her—both of us—to- morrow. Don’tyouthink,Watson,thatyouareaway fromyourchargeratherlong? Yourplaceshouldbe atBaskervilleHall.” The last red streaks had faded away in the west and night had settled upon the moor. A few faint starsweregleaminginavioletsky.</s>“One last question, Holmes,” I said, as I rose.</s>“Surelythereisnoneedofsecrecybetweenyouand me. Whatisthemeaningofitall? Whatisheafter?” Holmes’svoicesankasheanswered:— “Itismurder,Watson—refined,cold-blooded,de- liberate murder. Do not ask me for particulars. My nets are closing upon him, even as his are upon Sir Henry,andwithyourhelpheisalreadyalmostatmymercy. There is but one danger which can threaten us. Itisthatheshouldstrikebeforewearereadyto do so. Another day—two at the most—and I have mycasecomplete,butuntilthenguardyourcharge as closely as ever a fond mother watched her ailing child. Your mission to-day has justified itself, and yetIcouldalmostwishthatyouhadnotlefthisside.</s>Hark!” Aterriblescream—aprolongedyellofhorrorand anguish—burst out of the silence of the moor. That frightfulcryturnedthebloodtoiceinmyveins.</s>“Oh,myGod!”Igasped. “Whatisit? Whatdoes itmean?” Holmeshadsprungtohisfeet,andIsawhisdark, athleticoutline atthe doorof thehut, his shoulders stooping, his head thrust forward, his face peering intothedarkness.</s>“Hush!”hewhispered. “Hush!” The cry had been loud on account of its vehe- mence,butithadpealedoutfromsomewherefaroff on the shadowy plain. Now it burst upon our ears, nearer,louder,moreurgentthanbefore.</s>“Where is it?” Holmes whispered; and I knew from the thrill of his voice that he, the man of iron, wasshakentothesoul. “Whereisit,Watson?” “There,Ithink.”Ipointedintothedarkness.</s>“No,there!” Againtheagonizedcrysweptthroughthesilent night,louderandmuchnearerthanever. Andanew soundmingledwithit,adeep,mutteredrumble,mu- sicalandyetmenacing,risingandfallinglikethelow, constantmurmurofthesea.</s>“The hound!” cried Holmes. “Come, Watson, come! Greatheavens,ifwearetoolate!” Hehadstartedrunningswiftlyoverthemoor,and Ihadfollowedathisheels. Butnowfromsomewhere amongthebrokengroundimmediatelyinfrontofus therecameonelastdespairingyell, andthenadull, heavy thud. We halted and listened. Not another soundbroketheheavysilenceofthewindlessnight.</s>IsawHolmesputhishandtohisforeheadlikea mandistracted. Hestampedhisfeetupontheground.</s>“Hehasbeatenus,Watson. Wearetoolate.” “No,no,surelynot!” “FoolthatIwastoholdmyhand. Andyou,Wat- son,seewhatcomesofabandoningyourcharge! But, by Heaven, if the worst has happened, we’ll avenge him!” Blindly we ran through the gloom, blundering against boulders, forcing our way through gorse bushes, panting up hills and rushing down slopes, headingalwaysinthedirectionwhencethosedread- ful sounds had come. At every rise Holmes looked eagerlyroundhim,buttheshadowswerethickupon themoor,andnothingmoveduponitsdrearyface.</s>“Canyouseeanything?” “Nothing.” “But,hark,whatisthat?” A low moan had fallen upon our ears. There it was again upon our left! On that side a ridge of rocksendedinasheercliffwhichoverlookedastone- strewn slope. On its jagged face was spread-eagled some dark, irregular object. As we ran towards it the vague outline hardened into a definite shape. It wasaprostratemanfacedownwardupontheground, theheaddoubledunderhimatahorribleangle,the shouldersroundedandthebodyhunchedtogetheras if in the act of throwing a somersault. So grotesque wastheattitudethatIcouldnotfortheinstantreal- ize that that moan had been the passing of his soul.</s>Nota whisper, not arustle, rose now from thedark figureoverwhichwestooped. Holmeslaidhishand uponhim,andhelditupagain,withanexclamation of horror. The gleam of the match which he struck shoneuponhisclottedfingersandupontheghastly poolwhichwidenedslowlyfromthecrushedskullof thevictim. Anditshoneuponsomethingelsewhich turnedourheartssickandfaintwithinus—thebody ofSirHenryBaskerville! Therewasnochanceofeitherofusforgettingthat peculiar ruddy tweed suit—the very one which he hadwornonthefirstmorningthatwehadseenhim inBakerStreet. Wecaughttheoneclearglimpseofit, and then the match flickered and went out, even as thehopehadgoneoutofoursouls. Holmesgroaned, andhisfaceglimmeredwhitethroughthedarkness.</s>“The brute! the brute!” I cried with clenched hands. “Oh Holmes, I shall never forgive myself forhavinglefthimtohisfate.” “Iammoretoblamethanyou,Watson. Inorder to have my case well rounded and complete, I have thrown away the life of my client. It is the greatest blow which has befallen me in my career. But how could I know—how could l know—that he would riskhislifealoneuponthemoorinthefaceofallmy warnings?” “Thatweshouldhaveheardhisscreams—myGod, thosescreams!—andyethavebeenunabletosavehim! Whereisthisbruteofahoundwhichdrovehimtohis death? It may be lurking among these rocks at thisinstant. AndStapleton,whereishe? Heshallanswer forthisdeed.” “He shall. I will see to that. Uncle and nephew have been murdered—the one frightened to death by the very sight of a beast which he thought to be supernatural,theotherdriventohisendinhiswild flighttoescapefromit. Butnowwehavetoprovethe connectionbetweenthemanandthebeast. Savefrom whatweheard,wecannotevensweartotheexistence ofthelatter,sinceSirHenryhasevidentlydiedfrom thefall. But,byheavens,cunningasheis,thefellow shallbeinmypowerbeforeanotherdayispast!” We stood with bitter hearts on either side of the mangledbody, overwhelmedbythissuddenandir- revocable disaster which had brought all our long and weary labours to so piteous an end. Then, as the moon rose we climbed to the top of the rocks overwhichourpoorfriendhadfallen,andfromthe summit we gazed out over the shadowy moor, half silver and half gloom. Far away, miles off, in the di- rectionofGrimpen,asinglesteadyyellowlightwas shining. Itcouldonlycomefromthelonelyabodeof theStapletons. WithabittercurseIshookmyfistat itasIgazed.</s>“Whyshouldwenotseizehimatonce?” “Ourcaseisnotcomplete. Thefellowiswaryand cunning to the last degree. It is not what we know, but what we can prove. If we make one false move thevillainmayescapeusyet.” “Whatcanwedo?” “Therewillbeplentyforustodoto-morrow. To- nightwecanonlyperformthelastofficestoourpoor friend.” Together we made our way down the precipi- tousslopeandapproachedthebody,blackandclear against the silvered stones. The agony of those con- torted limbs struck me with a spasm of pain and blurredmyeyeswithtears.</s>“Wemustsendforhelp,Holmes! Wecannotcarry him all the way to the Hall. Good heavens, are you mad?” Hehadutteredacryandbentoverthebody. Now hewasdancingandlaughingandwringingmyhand.</s>Couldthisbemystern,self-containedfriend? These werehiddenfires,indeed! “Abeard! Abeard! Themanhasabeard!” “Abeard?” “Itisnotthebaronet—itis—why,itismyneigh- bour,theconvict!” Withfeverishhastewehadturnedthebodyover, andthatdrippingbeardwaspointinguptothecold, clear moon. There could be no doubt about the beetling forehead, the sunken animal eyes. It was indeed the same face which had glared upon me in thelightofthecandlefromovertherock—thefaceof Selden,thecriminal.</s>Then in an instant it was all clear to me. I re- memberedhowthebaronethadtoldmethathehad handed his old wardrobe to Barrymore. Barrymore hadpasseditoninordertohelpSeldeninhisescape.</s>Boots,shirt,cap—itwasallSirHenry’s. Thetragedy wasstillblackenough,butthismanhadatleastde- serveddeathbythelawsofhiscountry. ItoldHolmes how the matter stood, my heart bubbling over with thankfulnessandjoy.</s>“Then the clothes have been the poor devil’s death,”saidhe. “Itisclearenoughthatthehoundhas been laid on from some article of Sir Henry’s—the bootwhichwasabstractedinthehotel,inallproba- bility—andsoranthismandown. Thereisonevery singular thing, however: How came Selden, in the darkness,toknowthatthehoundwasonhistrail?” “Heheardhim.” “Tohearahounduponthemoorwouldnotwork a hard man like this convict into such a paroxysm of terror that he would risk recapture by screaming wildlyforhelp. Byhiscrieshemusthaverunalong wayafterheknewtheanimalwasonhistrack. How didheknow?” “Agreatermysterytomeiswhythishound,pre- sumingthatallourconjecturesarecorrect—” “Ipresumenothing.” “Well, then, why this hound should be loose to- night. I suppose that it does not always run loose uponthemoor. Stapletonwouldnotletitgounless hehadreasontothinkthatSirHenrywouldbethere.” “Mydifficultyisthemoreformidableofthetwo, for I think that we shall very shortly get an expla- nation of yours, while mine may remain forever a mystery. Thequestionnowis,whatshallwedowith this poor wretch’s body? We cannot leave it here to thefoxesandtheravens.” “I suggest that we put it in one of the huts until wecancommunicatewiththepolice.” “Exactly. I have no doubt that you and I could carry it so far. Halloa, Watson, what’s this? It’s the manhimself,byallthat’swonderfulandaudacious! Notawordtoshowyoursuspicions—notaword,or myplanscrumbletotheground.” Afigurewasapproachingusoverthemoor,and I saw the dull red glow of a cigar. The moon shoneuponhim,andIcoulddistinguishthedappershape andjauntywalkofthenaturalist. Hestoppedwhen hesawus,andthencameonagain.</s>“Why, Dr. Watson, that’s not you, is it? You are thelastmanthatIshouldhaveexpectedtoseeouton themooratthistimeofnight. But, dearme, what’s this? Somebodyhurt? Not—don’ttellmethatitisour friend SirHenry!”He hurriedpast meand stooped over the dead man. I heard a sharp intake of his breathandthecigarfellfromhisfingers.</s>“Who—who’sthis?”hestammered.</s>“It is Selden, the man who escaped from Prince- town.” Stapletonturnedaghastlyfaceuponus,butbya supremeefforthehadovercomehisamazementand hisdisappointment. HelookedsharplyfromHolmes tome.</s>“Dearme! Whataveryshockingaffair! Howdid hedie?” “He appears to have broken his neck by falling over these rocks. My friend and I were strolling on themoorwhenweheardacry.” “I heard a cry also. That was what brought me out. IwasuneasyaboutSirHenry.” “WhyaboutSirHenryinparticular?”Icouldnot helpasking.</s>“Because I had suggested that he should come over. When he did not come I was surprised, and I naturallybecamealarmedforhissafetywhenIheard cries upon the moor. By the way”—his eyes darted againfrommyfacetoHolmes’s—“didyouhearany- thingelsebesidesacry?” “No,”saidHolmes;“didyou?” “No.” “Whatdoyoumean,then?” “Oh, you know the stories that the peasants tell about a phantom hound, and so on. It is said to be heard at night upon the moor. I was wondering if therewereanyevidenceofsuchasoundto-night.” “Weheardnothingofthekind,”saidI.</s>“And what is your theory of this poor fellow’s death?” “Ihavenodoubtthatanxietyandexposurehave driven him off his head. He has rushed about the moorinacrazystateandeventuallyfallenoverhere andbrokenhisneck.” “Thatseemsthemostreasonabletheory,”saidSta- pleton, and he gave a sigh which I took to indicate hisrelief. “Whatdoyouthinkaboutit,Mr.Sherlock Holmes?” Myfriendbowedhiscompliments.</s>“Youarequickatidentification,”saidhe.</s>“Wehavebeenexpectingyouinthesepartssince Dr. Watson came down. You are in time to see a tragedy.” “Yes,indeed. Ihavenodoubtthatmyfriend’sex- planationwillcoverthefacts. Iwilltakeanunpleasant remembrancebacktoLondonwithmeto-morrow.” “Oh,youreturnto-morrow?” “Thatismyintention.” “Ihopeyourvisithascastsomelightuponthose occurrenceswhichhavepuzzledus?” Holmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“One cannot always have the success for which onehopes. Aninvestigatorneedsfacts,andnotleg- endsorrumours. Ithasnotbeenasatisfactorycase.” Myfriendspokeinhisfrankestandmostuncon- cerned manner. Stapleton still looked hard at him.</s>Thenheturnedtome.</s>“Iwouldsuggestcarryingthispoorfellowtomy house,butitwouldgivemysistersuchafrightthatI donotfeeljustifiedindoingit. Ithinkthatifweput somethingoverhisfacehewillbesafeuntilmorning.” Andsoitwasarranged. ResistingStapleton’sof- ferofhospitality,HolmesandIsetofftoBaskerville Hall,leavingthenaturalisttoreturnalone. Looking backwesawthefiguremovingslowlyawayoverthe broadmoor,andbehindhimthatoneblacksmudge on the silvered slope which showed where the man waslyingwhohadcomesohorriblytohisend.CHAPT ixing t F “We’reatclosegripsatlast,”saidHolmesaswe walkedtogetheracrossthemoor. “Whatanervethe fellow has! How he pulled himself together in the faceofwhatmusthavebeenaparalyzingshockwhen hefoundthatthewrongmanhadfallenavictimto hisplot. ItoldyouinLondon,Watson,andItellyou now again, that we have never had a foeman more worthyofoursteel.” “Iamsorrythathehasseenyou.” “And so was I at first. But there was no getting outofit.” “What effect do you think it will have upon his plansnowthatheknowsyouarehere?” “Itmaycausehimtobemorecautious,oritmay drivehimtodesperatemeasuresatonce. Likemost clevercriminals,hemaybetooconfidentinhisown cleverness and imagine that he has completely de- ceivedus.” “Whyshouldwenotarresthimatonce?” “MydearWatson,youwereborntobeamanof action. Your instinct is always to do something en- ergetic. Butsupposing,forargument’ssake,thatwe had him arrested to-night, what on earth the better off should we be for that? We could prove nothing against him. There’s the devilish cunning of it! If hewereactingthroughahumanagentwecouldget someevidence,butifweweretodragthisgreatdog to the light of day it would not help us in putting a roperoundtheneckofitsmaster.” “Surelywehaveacase.” “Notashadowofone—onlysurmiseandconjec- ture. Weshouldbelaughedoutofcourtifwecame withsuchastoryandsuchevidence.” “ThereisSirCharles’sdeath.” “Founddeadwithoutamarkuponhim. Youand Iknowthathediedofsheerfright,andweknowalso what frightened him; but how are we to get twelve stolidjurymentoknowit? Whatsignsarethereofa hound? Wherearethemarksofitsfangs? Ofcourse we know that a hound does not bite a dead body and that Sir Charles was dead before ever the brute overtook him. But we have to prove all this, and we arenotinapositiontodoit.” “Well,then,to-night?” “Wearenotmuchbetteroffto-night. Again,there wasnodirectconnectionbetweenthehoundandthe TER XIII.</s>he ets N man’sdeath. Weneversawthehound. Weheardit; butwecouldnotprovethatitwasrunninguponthis man’s trail. There is a complete absence of motive.</s>No, my dear fellow; we must reconcile ourselves to thefactthatwehavenocaseatpresent,andthatitis worthourwhiletorunanyriskinordertoestablish one.” “Andhowdoyouproposetodoso?” “IhavegreathopesofwhatMrs.LauraLyonsmay doforuswhenthepositionofaffairsismadeclearto her. And I have my own plan as well. Sufficient for to-morrow is the evil thereof; but I hope before the dayispasttohavetheupperhandatlast.” I could draw nothing further from him, and he walked,lostinthought,asfarastheBaskervillegates.</s>“Areyoucomingup?” “Yes;Iseenoreasonforfurtherconcealment. But onelastword,Watson. Saynothingofthehoundto SirHenry. LethimthinkthatSelden’sdeathwasas Stapletonwouldhaveusbelieve. Hewillhaveabetter nerve for the ordeal which he will have to undergo to-morrow,whenheisengaged,ifIrememberyour reportaright,todinewiththesepeople.” “AndsoamI.” “Thenyoumustexcuseyourselfandhemustgo alone. Thatwillbeeasilyarranged. Andnow, ifwe aretoolatefordinner,Ithinkthatwearebothready foroursuppers.” Sir Henry was more pleased than surprised to seeSherlockHolmes,forhehadforsomedaysbeen expectingthatrecenteventswouldbringhimdown from London. He did raise his eyebrows, however, when he found that my friend had neither any lug- gage nor any explanations for its absence. Between us we soon supplied his wants, and then over a be- latedsupperweexplainedtothebaronetasmuchof ourexperienceasitseemeddesirablethatheshould know. But first I had the unpleasant duty of break- ing the news to Barrymore and his wife. To him it may have been an unmitigated relief, but she wept bitterlyinherapron. Toalltheworldhewastheman of violence, half animal and half demon; but to her he always remained the little wilful boy of her own girlhood,thechildwhohadclungtoherhand. Evil indeedisthemanwhohasnotonewomantomourn him.“I’vebeenmopinginthehousealldaysinceWat- son went off in the morning,” said the baronet. “I guessIshouldhavesomecredit,forIhavekeptmy promise. If I hadn’t sworn not to go about alone I might have had a more lively evening, for I had a messagefromStapletonaskingmeoverthere.” “Ihavenodoubtthatyouwouldhavehadamore lively evening,” said Holmes drily. “By the way, I don’t suppose you appreciate that we have been mourningoveryouashavingbrokenyourneck?” SirHenryopenedhiseyes. “Howwasthat?” “Thispoorwretchwasdressedinyourclothes. I fearyourservantwhogavethemtohimmaygetinto troublewiththepolice.” “That is unlikely. There was no mark on any of them,asfarasIknow.” “That’s lucky for him—in fact, it’s lucky for all of you, since you are all on the wrong side of the law in this matter. I am not sure that as a conscien- tiousdetectivemyfirstdutyisnottoarrestthewhole household. Watson’sreportsaremostincriminating documents.” “But how about the case?” asked the baronet.</s>“Haveyoumadeanythingoutofthetangle? Idon’t knowthatWatsonandIaremuchthewisersincewe camedown.” “I think that I shall be in a position to make the situationrathermorecleartoyoubeforelong. Ithas been an exceedingly difficult and most complicated business. Thereareseveralpointsuponwhichwestill wantlight—butitiscomingallthesame.” “We’ve had one experience, as Watson has no doubttoldyou. Weheardthehoundonthemoor,so Icanswearthatitisnotallemptysuperstition. Ihad somethingtodowithdogswhenIwasoutWest,and IknowonewhenIhearone. Ifyoucanmuzzlethat oneandputhimonachainI’llbereadytoswearyou arethegreatestdetectiveofalltime.” “IthinkIwillmuzzlehimandchainhimallright ifyouwillgivemeyourhelp.” “WhateveryoutellmetodoIwilldo.” “Verygood;andIwillaskyoualsotodoitblindly, withoutalwaysaskingthereason.” “Justasyoulike.” “IfyouwilldothisIthinkthechancesarethatour littleproblemwillsoonbesolved. Ihavenodoubt—” Hestoppedsuddenlyandstaredfixedlyupover my head into the air. The lamp beat upon his face, andsointentwasitandsostillthatitmighthavebeen thatofaclear-cutclassicalstatue,apersonificationof alertnessandexpectation.</s>“Whatisit?”webothcried.</s>Icouldseeashelookeddownthathewasrepress- ing some internal emotion. His features were still composed, but his eyes shone with amused exulta- tion.</s>“Excusetheadmirationofaconnoisseur,”saidhe as he waved his hand towards the line of portraits whichcoveredtheoppositewall. “Watsonwon’tallow thatIknowanythingofart,butthatismerejealousy, becauseourviewsuponthesubjectdiffer. Now,these areareallyveryfineseriesofportraits.” “Well,I’mgladtohearyousayso,”saidSirHenry, glancing with some surprise at my friend. “I don’t pretendtoknowmuchaboutthesethings,andI’dbe abetterjudgeofahorseorasteerthanofapicture. I didn’tknowthatyoufoundtimeforsuchthings.” “I know what is good when I see it, and I see it now. That’s a Kneller, I’ll swear, that lady in the bluesilkoveryonder,andthestoutgentlemanwith the wig ought to be a Reynolds. They are all family portraits,Ipresume?” “Everyone.” “Doyouknowthenames?” “Barrymorehasbeencoachingmeinthem,andI thinkIcansaymylessonsfairlywell.” “Whoisthegentlemanwiththetelescope?” “ThatisRear-AdmiralBaskerville,whoservedun- derRodneyintheWestIndies. Themanwiththeblue coat and the roll of paper is Sir William Baskerville, who was Chairman of Committees of the House of CommonsunderPitt.” “AndthisCavalieroppositetome—theonewith theblackvelvetandthelace?” “Ah,youhavearighttoknowabouthim. Thatis thecauseofallthemischief,thewickedHugo,who startedtheHoundoftheBaskervilles. We’renotlikely toforgethim.” Igazedwithinterestandsomesurpriseuponthe portrait.</s>“Dearme!”saidHolmes,“heseemsaquiet,meek- manneredmanenough,butIdaresaythattherewas a lurking devil in his eyes. I had pictured him as a morerobustandruffianlyperson.” “There’snodoubtabouttheauthenticity,forthe nameandthedate,1647,areonthebackofthecan- vas.” Holmessaidlittlemore,butthepictureoftheold roysterer seemed to have a fascination for him, and hiseyeswerecontinuallyfixeduponitduringsupper.It was not until later, when Sir Henry had gone to his room, that I was able to follow the trend of his thoughts. He led me back into the banqueting-hall, his bedroom candle in his hand, and he held it up againstthetime-stainedportraitonthewall.</s>“Doyouseeanythingthere?” Ilookedatthebroadplumedhat,thecurlinglove- locks, the white lace collar, and the straight, severe face which was framed between them. It was not a brutalcountenance,butitwasprim,hard,andstern, withafirm-set,thin-lippedmouth,andacoldlyintol- eranteye.</s>“Isitlikeanyoneyouknow?” “ThereissomethingofSirHenryaboutthejaw.” “Justasuggestion,perhaps. Butwaitaninstant!” He stood upon a chair, and, holding up the light in hislefthand,hecurvedhisrightarmoverthebroad hatandroundthelongringlets.</s>“Goodheavens!”Icried,inamazement.</s>ThefaceofStapletonhadsprungoutofthecanvas.</s>“Ha,youseeitnow. Myeyeshavebeentrainedto examinefacesandnottheirtrimmings. Itisthefirst quality of a criminal investigator that he should see throughadisguise.” “Butthisismarvellous. Itmightbehisportrait.” “Yes,itisaninterestinginstanceofathrowback, which appears to be both physical and spiritual. A studyoffamilyportraitsisenoughtoconvertaman to the doctrine of reincarnation. The fellow is a Baskerville—thatisevident.” “Withdesignsuponthesuccession.” “Exactly. Thischanceofthepicturehassupplied us with one of our most obvious missing links. We have him, Watson, we have him, and I dare swear that before to-morrow night he will be fluttering in our net as helpless as one of his own butterflies. A pin,acork,andacard,andweaddhimtotheBaker Streetcollection!”Heburstintooneofhisrarefitsof laughterasheturnedawayfromthepicture. Ihave notheardhimlaughoften,andithasalwaysboded illtosomebody.</s>Iwasupbetimesinthemorning,butHolmeswas afootearlierstill,forIsawhimasIdressed,coming upthedrive.</s>“Yes, we should have a full day to-day,” he re- marked, and he rubbed his hands with the joy of action. “The nets are all in place, and the drag is about to begin. We’ll know before the day is out whetherwehavecaughtourbig,lean-jawedpike,or whetherhehasgotthroughthemeshes.” “Haveyoubeenonthemooralready?” “IhavesentareportfromGrimpentoPrincetown astothedeathofSelden. IthinkIcanpromisethat noneofyouwillbetroubledinthematter. AndIhave alsocommunicatedwithmyfaithfulCartwright,who would certainly have pined away at the door of my hut,asadogdoesathismaster’sgrave,ifIhadnot sethismindatrestaboutmysafety.” “Whatisthenextmove?” “ToseeSirHenry. Ah,hereheis!” “Goodmorning,Holmes,”saidthebaronet. “You looklikeageneralwhoisplanningabattlewithhis chiefofthestaff.” “That is the exact situation. Watson was asking fororders.” “AndsodoI.” “Verygood. Youareengaged,asIunderstand,to dinewithourfriendstheStapletonsto-night.” “I hope that you will come also. They are very hospitablepeople,andIamsurethattheywouldbe verygladtoseeyou.” “IfearthatWatsonandImustgotoLondon.” “ToLondon?” “Yes,Ithinkthatweshouldbemoreusefulthere atthepresentjuncture.” Thebaronet’sfaceperceptiblylengthened.</s>“Ihopedthatyouweregoingtoseemethrough this business. The Hall and the moor are not very pleasantplaceswhenoneisalone.” “Mydearfellow,youmusttrustmeimplicitlyand doexactlywhatItellyou. Youcantellyourfriends that we should have been happy to have come with you, but that urgent business required us to be in town. We hope very soon to return to Devonshire.</s>Willyouremembertogivethemthatmessage?” “Ifyouinsistuponit.” “Thereisnoalternative,Iassureyou.” Isawbythebaronet’scloudedbrowthathewas deeplyhurtbywhatheregardedasourdesertion.</s>“Whendoyoudesiretogo?”heaskedcoldly.</s>“Immediately after breakfast. We will drive in to Coombe Tracey, but Watson will leave his things as a pledge that he will come back to you. Watson, youwillsendanotetoStapletontotellhimthatyou regretthatyoucannotcome.” “IhaveagoodmindtogotoLondonwithyou,” saidthebaronet. “WhyshouldIstayherealone?”“Becauseitisyourpostofduty. Becauseyougave me your word that you would do as you were told, andItellyoutostay.” “Allright,then,I’llstay.” “Onemoredirection! IwishyoutodrivetoMer- ripit House. Send back your trap, however, and let themknowthatyouintendtowalkhome.” “Towalkacrossthemoor?” “Yes.” “Butthatistheverythingwhichyouhavesooften cautionedmenottodo.” “Thistimeyoumaydoitwithsafety. IfIhadnot everyconfidenceinyournerveandcourageIwould not suggest it, but it is essential that you should do it.” “ThenIwilldoit.” “Andasyouvalueyourlifedonotgoacrossthe moor in any direction save along the straight path which leads from Merripit House to the Grimpen Road,andisyournaturalwayhome.” “Iwilldojustwhatyousay.” “Verygood. Ishouldbegladtogetawayassoon afterbreakfastaspossible,soastoreachLondonin theafternoon.” Iwasmuchastoundedbythisprogramme,though IrememberedthatHolmeshadsaidtoStapletonon the night before that his visit would terminate next day. It had not crossed my mind, however, that he would wish me to go with him, nor could I under- stand how we could both be absent at a moment which he himself declared to be critical. There was nothingforit,however,butimplicitobedience;sowe badegood-byetoourruefulfriend, andacoupleof hours afterwards we were at the station of Coombe Tracey and had dispatched the trap upon its return journey. Asmallboywaswaitingupontheplatform.</s>“Anyorders,sir?” “Youwilltakethistraintotown,Cartwright. The momentyouarriveyouwillsendawiretoSirHenry Baskerville, in my name, to say that if he finds the pocket-bookwhichIhavedroppedheistosenditby registeredposttoBakerStreet.” “Yes,sir.” “Andaskatthestationofficeifthereisamessage forme.” Theboyreturnedwithatelegram,whichHolmes handedtome. Itran: Wire received. Coming down with un- signedwarrant. Arrivefive-forty.</s>—Lestrade.</s>“That is in answer to mine of this morning. He is the best of the professionals, I think, and we may need his assistance. Now, Watson, I think that we cannotemployourtimebetterthanbycallingupon youracquaintance,Mrs.LauraLyons.” Hisplanofcampaignwasbeginningtobeevident.</s>He would use the baronet in order to convince the Stapletonsthatwewerereallygone,whileweshould actuallyreturnattheinstantwhenwewerelikelyto beneeded. ThattelegramfromLondon,ifmentioned bySirHenrytotheStapletons,mustremovethelast suspicionsfromtheirminds. AlreadyIseemedtosee ournetsdrawingcloseraroundthatlean-jawedpike.</s>Mrs.LauraLyonswasinheroffice,andSherlock Holmes opened his interview with a frankness and directnesswhichconsiderablyamazedher.</s>“I am investigating the circumstances which at- tendedthedeathofthelateSirCharlesBaskerville,” said he. “My friend here, Dr. Watson, has informed meofwhatyouhavecommunicated,andalsoofwhat youhavewithheldinconnectionwiththatmatter.” “WhathaveIwithheld?”sheaskeddefiantly.</s>“YouhaveconfessedthatyouaskedSirCharlesto beatthegateatteno’clock. Weknowthatthatwas the place and hour of his death. You have withheld whattheconnectionisbetweentheseevents.” “Thereisnoconnection.” “In that case the coincidence must indeed be an extraordinaryone. ButIthinkthatweshallsucceed inestablishingaconnectionafterall. Iwishtobeper- fectlyfrankwithyou,Mrs.Lyons. Weregardthiscase asoneofmurder,andtheevidencemayimplicatenot onlyyourfriendMr.Stapleton,buthiswifeaswell.” Theladysprangfromherchair.</s>“Hiswife!”shecried.</s>“The fact is no longer a secret. The person who haspassedforhissisterisreallyhiswife.” Mrs.Lyonshadresumedherseat. Herhandswere graspingthearmsofherchair,andIsawthatthepink nailshadturnedwhitewiththepressureofhergrip.</s>“Hiswife!”shesaidagain. “Hiswife! Heisnota marriedman.” SherlockHolmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“Proveittome! Proveittome! Andifyoucando so—!”Thefierceflashofhereyessaidmorethanany words.“I have come prepared to do so,” said Holmes, drawing several papers from his pocket. “Here is a photograph of the couple taken in York four years ago. Itisindorsed‘Mr.andMrs.Vandeleur,’butyou will have no difficulty in recognizing him, and her also, if you know her by sight. Here are three writ- tendescriptionsbytrustworthywitnessesofMr.and Mrs. Vandeleur, who at that time kept St. Oliver’s private school. Read them and see if you can doubt theidentityofthesepeople.” She glanced at them, and then looked up at us withtheset,rigidfaceofadesperatewoman.</s>“Mr. Holmes,” she said, “this man had offered memarriageonconditionthatIcouldgetadivorce frommyhusband. Hehasliedtome, thevillain, in every conceivable way. Not one word of truth has he ever told me. And why—why? I imagined that all was for my own sake. But now I see that I was neveranythingbutatoolinhishands. WhyshouldI preservefaithwithhimwhoneverkeptanywithme? WhyshouldItrytoshieldhimfromtheconsequences ofhisownwickedacts? Askmewhatyoulike,and thereisnothingwhichIshallholdback. OnethingI sweartoyou,andthatisthatwhenIwrotetheletter I never dreamed of any harm to the old gentleman, whohadbeenmykindestfriend.” “I entirely believe you, madam,” said Sherlock Holmes. “The recital of these events must be very painful to you, and perhaps it will make it easier if I tell you what occurred, and you can check me if I makeanymaterialmistake. Thesendingofthisletter wassuggestedtoyoubyStapleton?” “Hedictatedit.” “Ipresumethatthereasonhegavewasthatyou wouldreceivehelpfromSirCharlesforthelegalex- pensesconnectedwithyourdivorce?” “Exactly.” “And then after you had sent the letter he dis- suadedyoufromkeepingtheappointment?” “Hetoldmethatitwouldhurthisself-respectthat anyothermanshouldfindthemoneyforsuchanob- ject, and that though he was a poor man himself he woulddevotehislastpennytoremovingtheobstacles whichdividedus.” “Heappearstobeaveryconsistentcharacter. And thenyouheardnothinguntilyoureadthereportsof thedeathinthepaper?” “No.” “And he made you swear to say nothing about yourappointmentwithSirCharles?” “Hedid. Hesaidthatthedeathwasaverymyste- riousone,andthatIshouldcertainlybesuspectedif thefactscameout. Hefrightenedmeintoremaining silent.” “Quiteso. Butyouhadyoursuspicions?” Shehesitatedandlookeddown.</s>“Iknewhim,”shesaid. “Butifhehadkeptfaith withmeIshouldalwayshavedonesowithhim.” “I think that on the whole you have had a fortu- nateescape,”saidSherlockHolmes. “Youhavehad him in your power and he knew it, and yet you are alive. Youhavebeenwalkingforsomemonthsvery near to the edge of a precipice. We must wish you good-morning now, Mrs. Lyons, and it is probable thatyouwillveryshortlyhearfromusagain.” “Ourcasebecomesroundedoff,anddifficultyaf- terdifficultythinsawayinfrontofus,”saidHolmes as we stood waiting for the arrival of the express from town. “I shall soon be in the position of being able to put into a single connected narrative one of themostsingularandsensationalcrimesofmodern times. Students of criminology will remember the analogousincidentsinGodno,inLittleRussia,inthe year ’66, and of course there are the Anderson mur- dersinNorthCarolina,butthiscasepossessessome features which are entirely its own. Even now we havenoclearcaseagainst thisverywily man. But I shallbeverymuchsurprisedifitisnotclearenough beforewegotobedthisnight.” The London express came roaring into the sta- tion,andasmall,wirybulldogofamanhadsprung fromafirst-classcarriage. Weallthreeshookhands, andIsawatoncefromthereverentialwayinwhich Lestradegazedatmycompanionthathehadlearned agooddealsincethedayswhentheyhadfirstworked together. Icouldwellrememberthescornwhichthe theories of the reasoner used then to excite in the practicalman.</s>“Anythinggood?”heasked.</s>“Thebiggestthingforyears,”saidHolmes. “We have two hours before we need think of starting. I thinkwemightemployitingettingsomedinnerand then, Lestrade, we will take the London fog out of yourthroatbygivingyouabreathofthepurenight airofDartmoor. Neverbeenthere? Ah,well,Idon’t supposeyouwillforgetyourfirstvisit.”CHAPT he ound of t T H OneofSherlockHolmes’sdefects—if,indeed,one may call it a defect—was that he was exceedingly loathtocommunicatehisfullplanstoanyotherper- sonuntiltheinstantoftheirfulfilment. Partlyitcame nodoubtfromhisownmasterfulnature,whichloved to dominate and surprise those who were around him. Partlyalsofromhisprofessionalcaution,which urgedhimnevertotakeanychances. Theresult,how- ever, was very trying for those who were acting as hisagentsandassistants. Ihadoftensufferedunder it, but never more so than during that long drive in the darkness. The great ordeal was in front of us; at last we were about to make our final effort, and yet Holmes had said nothing, and I could only sur- misewhathiscourseofactionwouldbe. Mynerves thrilledwithanticipationwhenatlastthecoldwind upon our faces and the dark, void spaces on either side of the narrow road told me that we were back uponthemooronceagain. Everystrideofthehorses andeveryturnofthewheelswastakingusnearerto oursupremeadventure.</s>Ourconversationwashamperedbythepresence ofthedriverofthehiredwagonette,sothatwewere forcedtotalkoftrivialmatterswhenournerveswere tense with emotion and anticipation. It was a relief tome,afterthatunnaturalrestraint,whenweatlast passed Frankland’s house and knew that we were drawing near to the Hall and to the scene of action.</s>We did not drive up to the door but got down near the gate of the avenue. The wagonette was paid off and ordered to return to Coombe Tracey forthwith, whilewestartedtowalktoMerripitHouse.</s>“Areyouarmed,Lestrade?” Thelittledetectivesmiled.</s>“AslongasIhavemytrousersIhaveahip-pocket, andaslongasIhavemyhip-pocketIhavesomething init.” “Good! MyfriendandIarealsoreadyforemer- gencies.” “You’remightycloseaboutthisaffair,Mr.Holmes.</s>What’sthegamenow?” “Awaitinggame.” “Myword,itdoesnotseemaverycheerfulplace,” saidthedetectivewithashiver,glancingroundhim atthegloomyslopesofthehillandatthehugelake of fog which lay over the Grimpen Mire. “I see the lightsofahouseaheadofus.” TER XIV.</s>he askervilles B “ThatisMerripitHouseandtheendofourjour- ney. Imustrequestyoutowalkontiptoeandnotto talkaboveawhisper.” Wemovedcautiouslyalongthetrackasifwewere boundforthehouse,butHolmeshalteduswhenwe wereabouttwohundredyardsfromit.</s>“This will do,” said he. “These rocks upon the rightmakeanadmirablescreen.” “Wearetowaithere?” “Yes, we shall make our little ambush here. Get intothishollow,Lestrade. Youhavebeeninsidethe house,haveyounot,Watson? Canyoutelltheposi- tionoftherooms? Whatarethoselatticedwindows atthisend?” “Ithinktheyarethekitchenwindows.” “Andtheonebeyond,whichshinessobrightly?” “Thatiscertainlythedining-room.” “Theblindsareup. Youknowthelieoftheland best. Creep forward quietly and see what they are doing—but for heaven’s sake don’t let them know thattheyarewatched!” I tiptoed down the path and stooped behind thelowwallwhichsurroundedthestuntedorchard.</s>Creeping in its shadow I reached a point whence I couldlookstraightthroughtheuncurtainedwindow.</s>Therewereonlytwomenintheroom,SirHenry and Stapleton. They sat with their profiles towards me on either side of the round table. Both of them were smoking cigars, and coffee and wine were in frontofthem. Stapletonwastalkingwithanimation, but the baronet looked pale and distrait. Perhaps thethoughtofthatlonelywalkacrosstheill-omened moorwasweighingheavilyuponhismind.</s>As I watched them Stapleton rose and left the room, while Sir Henry filled his glass again and leanedbackinhischair,puffingathiscigar. Iheard thecreakofadoorandthecrispsoundofbootsupon gravel. Thestepspassedalongthepathontheother side of the wall under which I crouched. Looking over,Isawthenaturalistpauseatthedoorofanout- house in the corner of the orchard. A key turned in a lock, and as he passed in there was a curious scufflingnoisefromwithin. Hewasonlyaminuteor so inside, and then I heard the key turn once more and he passed me and re-entered the house. I saw himrejoinhisguest,andIcreptquietlybacktowhere mycompanionswerewaitingtotellthemwhatIhad seen.“You say, Watson, that the lady is not there?” Holmesasked,whenIhadfinishedmyreport.</s>“No.” “Wherecanshebe,then,sincethereisnolightin anyotherroomexceptthekitchen?” “Icannotthinkwheresheis.” IhavesaidthatoverthegreatGrimpenMirethere hung a dense, white fog. It was drifting slowly in ourdirection,andbankeditselfuplikeawallonthat sideofus,low,butthickandwelldefined. Themoon shone on it, and it looked like a great shimmering ice-field, with the heads of the distant tors as rocks borneuponitssurface. Holmes’sfacewasturnedto- wardsit,andhemutteredimpatientlyashewatched itssluggishdrift.</s>“It’smovingtowardsus,Watson.” “Isthatserious?” “Veryserious,indeed—theonethinguponearth whichcouldhavedisarrangedmyplans. Hecan’tbe verylong,now. Itisalreadyteno’clock. Oursuccess and even his life may depend upon his coming out beforethefogisoverthepath.” Thenightwasclearandfineaboveus. Thestars shonecoldandbright,whileahalf-moonbathedthe wholesceneinasoft,uncertainlight. Beforeuslaythe darkbulkofthehouse,itsserratedroofandbristling chimneys hard outlined against the silver-spangled sky. Broad bars of golden light from the lower win- dowsstretchedacrosstheorchardandthemoor. One ofthemwassuddenlyshutoff. Theservantshadleft the kitchen. There only remained the lamp in the dining-roomwherethetwomen,themurderoushost and the unconscious guest, still chatted over their cigars.</s>Everyminutethatwhitewoollyplainwhichcov- ered one half of the moor was drifting closer and closertothehouse. Alreadythefirstthinwispsofit werecurlingacrossthegoldensquareofthelighted window. Thefartherwalloftheorchardwasalready invisible, and the trees were standing out of a swirl of white vapour. As we watched it the fog-wreaths camecrawlingroundbothcornersofthehouseand rolledslowlyintoonedensebank,onwhichtheup- perfloorandtherooffloatedlikeastrangeshipupon ashadowysea. Holmesstruckhishandpassionately upontherockinfrontofusandstampedhisfeetin hisimpatience.</s>“If he isn’t out in a quarter of an hour the path willbecovered. Inhalfanhourwewon’tbeableto seeourhandsinfrontofus.” “Shall we move farther back upon higher ground?” “Yes,Ithinkitwouldbeaswell.” So as the fog-bank flowed onward we fell back before it until we were half a mile from the house, andstillthatdensewhitesea,withthemoonsilvering itsupperedge,sweptslowlyandinexorablyon.</s>“We are going too far,” said Holmes. “We dare nottakethechanceofhisbeingovertakenbeforehe can reach us. At all costs we must hold our ground whereweare.”Hedroppedonhiskneesandclapped hiseartotheground. “ThankGod,IthinkthatIhear himcoming.” A sound of quick steps broke the silence of the moor. Crouchingamongthestoneswestaredintently at the silver-tipped bank in front of us. The steps grew louder, and through the fog, as through a cur- tain,theresteppedthemanwhomwewereawaiting.</s>Helookedroundhiminsurpriseasheemergedinto theclear,starlitnight. Thenhecameswiftlyalongthe path, passed close to where we lay, and went on up the long slope behind us. As he walked he glanced continuallyovereithershoulder,likeamanwhoisill atease.</s>“Hist!”criedHolmes,andIheardthesharpclick ofacockingpistol. “Lookout! It’scoming!” There was a thin, crisp, continuous patter from somewhere in the heart of that crawling bank. The cloudwaswithinfiftyyardsofwherewelay,andwe glaredatit,allthree,uncertainwhathorrorwasabout tobreakfromtheheartofit. IwasatHolmes’selbow, and I glanced for an instant at his face. It was pale and exultant, his eyes shining brightly in the moon- light. But suddenly they started forward in a rigid, fixedstare,andhislipspartedinamazement. Atthe sameinstantLestradegaveayellofterrorandthrew himselffacedownwardupontheground. Isprangto myfeet,myinerthandgraspingmypistol,mymind paralyzed by the dreadful shape which had sprung out upon us from the shadows of the fog. A hound itwas,anenormouscoal-blackhound,butnotsuch a hound as mortal eyes have ever seen. Fire burst from its open mouth, its eyes glowed with a smoul- deringglare,itsmuzzleandhacklesanddewlapwere outlined in flickering flame. Never in the delirious dreamofadisorderedbraincouldanythingmoresav- age,moreappalling,morehellishbeconceivedthan thatdarkformandsavagefacewhichbrokeuponus outofthewalloffog.</s>With long bounds the huge black creature was leapingdownthetrack,followingharduponthefoot- steps of our friend. So paralyzed were we by theapparition that we allowed him to pass before we had recovered our nerve. Then Holmes and I both firedtogether,andthecreaturegaveahideoushowl, whichshowedthatoneatleasthadhithim. Hedid notpause,however,butboundedonward. Faraway onthepathwesawSirHenrylookingback,hisface white in the moonlight, his hands raised in horror, glaring helplessly at the frightful thing which was huntinghimdown.</s>But that cry of pain from the hound had blown all our fears to the winds. If he was vulnerable he wasmortal,andifwecouldwoundhimwecouldkill him. NeverhaveIseenamanrunasHolmesranthat night. I am reckoned fleet of foot, but he outpaced me as much as I outpaced the little professional. In frontofusasweflewupthetrackweheardscream afterscreamfromSirHenryandthedeeproarofthe hound. I was in time to see the beast spring upon its victim, hurl him to the ground, and worry at his throat. ButthenextinstantHolmeshademptiedfive barrelsofhisrevolverintothecreature’sflank. With a last howl of agony and a vicious snap in the air, it rolled upon its back, four feet pawing furiously, and then fell limp upon its side. I stooped, panting, and pressed my pistol to the dreadful, shimmering head,butitwasuselesstopressthetrigger. Thegiant houndwasdead.</s>SirHenrylayinsensiblewherehehadfallen. We tore away his collar, and Holmes breathed a prayer of gratitude when we saw that there was no sign of a wound and that the rescue had been in time. Al- ready our friend’s eyelids shivered and he made a feebleefforttomove. Lestradethrusthisbrandy-flask betweenthebaronet’steeth,andtwofrightenedeyes werelookingupatus.</s>“MyGod!”hewhispered. “Whatwasit? What,in heaven’sname,wasit?” “It’s dead, whatever it is,” said Holmes. “We’ve laidthefamilyghostonceandforever.” Inmeresizeandstrengthitwasaterriblecreature which was lying stretched before us. It was not a purebloodhoundanditwasnotapuremastiff;but it appeared to be a combination of the two—gaunt, savage, and as large as a small lioness. Even now, inthestillnessofdeath,thehugejawsseemedtobe drippingwithabluishflameandthesmall,deep-set, cruel eyes were ringed with fire. I placed my hand upontheglowingmuzzle,andasIheldthemupmy ownfingerssmoulderedandgleamedinthedarkness.</s>“Phosphorus,”Isaid.</s>“Acunningpreparationofit,”saidHolmes,sniff- ing at the dead animal. “There is no smell which might have interfered with his power of scent. We owe you a deep apology, Sir Henry, for having ex- posedyoutothisfright. Iwaspreparedforahound, butnotforsuchacreatureasthis. Andthefoggave uslittletimetoreceivehim.” “Youhavesavedmylife.” “Having first endangered it. Are you strong enoughtostand?” “GivemeanothermouthfulofthatbrandyandI shallbereadyforanything. So! Now,ifyouwillhelp meup. Whatdoyouproposetodo?” “Toleaveyouhere. Youarenotfitforfurtherad- venturesto-night. Ifyouwillwait,oneorotherofus willgobackwithyoutotheHall.” He tried to stagger to his feet; but he was still ghastlypaleandtremblingineverylimb. Wehelped him to a rock, where he sat shivering with his face buriedinhishands.</s>“Wemustleaveyounow,”saidHolmes. “Therest of our work must be done, and every moment is of importance. Wehaveourcase,andnowweonlywant ourman.</s>“It’s a thousand to one against our finding him atthehouse,”hecontinuedasweretracedoursteps swiftlydownthepath. “Thoseshotsmusthavetold himthatthegamewasup.” “Weweresomedistanceoff,andthisfogmayhave deadenedthem.” “He followed the hound to call him off—of that you may be certain. No, no, he’s gone by this time! Butwe’llsearchthehouseandmakesure.” The front door was open, so we rushed in and hurried from room to room to the amazement of a doddering old manservant, who met us in the pas- sage. Therewasnolightsaveinthedining-room,but Holmescaughtupthelampandleftnocornerofthe houseunexplored. Nosigncouldweseeoftheman whomwewerechasing. Ontheupperfloor,however, oneofthebedroomdoorswaslocked.</s>“There’ssomeoneinhere,”criedLestrade. “Ican hearamovement. Openthisdoor!” A faint moaning and rustling came from within.</s>Holmes struck the door just over the lock with the flatofhisfootanditflewopen. Pistolinhand,weall threerushedintotheroom.</s>Buttherewasnosignwithinitofthatdesperate anddefiantvillainwhomweexpectedtosee. Insteadwe were faced by an object so strange and so unex- pected that we stood for a moment staring at it in amazement.</s>The room had been fashioned into a small mu- seum,andthewallswerelinedbyanumberofglass- toppedcasesfullofthatcollectionofbutterfliesand mothstheformationofwhichhadbeentherelaxation of this complex and dangerous man. In the centre ofthisroomtherewasanuprightbeam,whichhad beenplacedatsomeperiodasasupportfortheold worm-eatenbaulkoftimberwhichspannedtheroof.</s>Tothispostafigurewastied,soswathedandmuffled in the sheets which had been used to secure it that one could not for the moment tell whether it was thatofamanorawoman. Onetowelpassedround the throat and was secured at the back of the pillar.</s>Anothercoveredthelowerpartoftheface,andover ittwodarkeyes—eyesfullofgriefandshameanda dreadfulquestioning—staredbackatus. Inaminute we had torn off the gag, unswathed the bonds, and Mrs.Stapletonsankuponthefloorinfrontofus. As herbeautifulheadfelluponherchestIsawtheclear redwealofawhiplashacrossherneck.</s>“Thebrute!”criedHolmes. “Here,Lestrade,your brandy-bottle! Put her in the chair! She has fainted fromill-usageandexhaustion.” Sheopenedhereyesagain.</s>“Ishesafe?”sheasked. “Hasheescaped?” “Hecannotescapeus,madam.” “No,no,Ididnotmeanmyhusband. SirHenry? Ishesafe?” “Yes.” “Andthehound?” “Itisdead.” Shegavealongsighofsatisfaction.</s>“Thank God! Thank God! Oh, this villain! See howhehastreatedme!”Sheshotherarmsoutfrom hersleeves,andwesawwithhorrorthattheywereall mottledwithbruises. “Butthisisnothing—nothing! It is my mind and soul that he has tortured and de- filed. I could endure it all, ill-usage, solitude, a life ofdeception,everything,aslongasIcouldstillcling tothehopethatIhadhislove,butnowIknowthat in this also I have been his dupe and his tool.” She brokeintopassionatesobbingasshespoke.</s>“You bear him no good will, madam,” said Holmes. “Tell us then where we shall find him. If youhaveeveraidedhiminevil,helpusnowandso atone.” “There is but one place where he can have fled,” sheanswered. “Thereisanoldtinmineonanisland intheheartofthemire. Itwastherethathekepthis hound and there also he had made preparations so thathemighthavearefuge. Thatiswherehewould fly.” Thefog-banklaylikewhitewoolagainstthewin- dow. Holmesheldthelamptowardsit.</s>“See,” said he. “No one could find his way into theGrimpenMireto-night.” Shelaughedandclappedherhands. Hereyesand teethgleamedwithfiercemerriment.</s>“Hemayfindhiswayin,butneverout,”shecried.</s>“How can he see the guiding wands to-night? We plantedthemtogether,heandI,tomarkthepathway through the mire. Oh, if I could only have plucked them out to-day. Then indeed you would have had himatyourmercy!” It was evident to us that all pursuit was in vain untilthefoghadlifted. MeanwhileweleftLestrade inpossessionofthehousewhileHolmesandIwent backwiththebaronettoBaskervilleHall. Thestory of the Stapletons could no longer be withheld from him, but he took the blow bravely when he learned thetruthaboutthewomanwhomhehadloved. But theshockofthenight’sadventureshadshatteredhis nerves,andbeforemorninghelaydeliriousinahigh fever,underthecareofDr.Mortimer. Thetwoofthem weredestinedtotraveltogetherroundtheworldbe- foreSirHenryhadbecomeoncemorethehale,hearty manthathehadbeenbeforehebecamemasterofthat ill-omenedestate.</s>AndnowIcomerapidlytotheconclusionofthis singularnarrative,inwhichIhavetriedtomakethe reader share those dark fears and vague surmises which clouded our lives so long and ended in so tragic a manner. On the morning after the death of thehoundthefoghadliftedandwewereguidedby Mrs.Stapletontothepointwheretheyhadfounda pathwaythroughthebog. Ithelpedustorealizethe horror of this woman’s life when we saw the eager- nessandjoywithwhichshelaidusonherhusband’s track. Weleftherstandinguponthethinpeninsulaof firm,peatysoilwhichtaperedoutintothewidespread bog. From the end of it a small wand planted here and there showed where the path zigzagged from tuft to tuft of rushes among those green-scummed pitsandfoulquagmireswhichbarredthewaytothe stranger. Rankreedsandlush,slimywater-plantssent anodourofdecayandaheavymiasmaticvapouronto our faces, while a false step plunged us more thanoncethigh-deepintothedark,quiveringmire,which shookforyardsinsoftundulationsaroundourfeet.</s>Itstenaciousgrippluckedatourheelsaswewalked, andwhenwesankintoititwasasifsomemalignant handwastuggingusdownintothoseobscenedepths, so grim and purposeful was the clutch in which it heldus. Onceonlywesawatracethatsomeonehad passedthatperilouswaybeforeus. Fromamidatuft ofcottongrasswhichboreitupoutoftheslimesome darkthingwasprojecting. Holmessanktohiswaist as he stepped from the path to seize it, and had we not been there to drag him out he could never have set his foot upon firm land again. He held an old blackbootintheair. “Meyers,Toronto,”wasprinted ontheleatherinside.</s>“Itisworthamudbath,”saidhe. “Itisourfriend SirHenry’smissingboot.” “ThrowntherebyStapletoninhisflight.” “Exactly. He retained it in his hand after using it to set the hound upon the track. He fled when heknewthegamewasup,stillclutchingit. Andhe hurleditawayatthispointofhisflight. Weknowat leastthathecamesofarinsafety.” But more than that we were never destined to know, though there was much which we might sur- mise. There was no chance of finding footsteps in the mire, for the rising mud oozed swiftly in upon them,butasweatlastreachedfirmergroundbeyond the morass we all looked eagerly for them. But no slightestsignofthemevermetoureyes. Iftheearth told a true story, then Stapleton never reached that islandofrefugetowardswhichhestruggledthrough thefoguponthatlastnight. Somewhereintheheart ofthegreatGrimpenMire,downinthefoulslimeof thehugemorasswhichhadsuckedhimin,thiscold andcruel-heartedmanisforeverburied.</s>Manytraceswefoundofhiminthebog-girtisland where he had hid his savage ally. A huge driving- wheel and a shaft half-filled with rubbish showed the position of an abandoned mine. Beside it were thecrumblingremainsofthecottagesoftheminers, driven away no doubt by the foul reek of the sur- roundingswamp. Inoneoftheseastapleandchain withaquantityofgnawedbonesshowedwherethe animalhadbeenconfined. Askeletonwithatangle ofbrownhairadheringtoitlayamongthedebris.</s>“A dog!” said Holmes. “By Jove, a curly-haired spaniel. Poor Mortimer will never see his pet again.</s>Well,Idonotknowthatthisplacecontainsanysecret whichwehavenotalreadyfathomed. Hecouldhide hishound,buthecouldnothushitsvoice,andhence came those cries which even in daylight were not pleasanttohear. Onanemergencyhecouldkeepthe houndintheout-houseatMerripit,butitwasalways arisk,anditwasonlyonthesupremeday,whichhe regarded as the end of all his efforts, that he dared doit. Thispasteinthetinisnodoubttheluminous mixturewithwhichthecreaturewasdaubed. Itwas suggested,ofcourse,bythestoryofthefamilyhell- hound,andbythedesiretofrightenoldSirCharles todeath. Nowonderthepoordevilofaconvictran andscreamed,evenasourfrienddid,andasweour- selvesmighthavedone,whenhesawsuchacreature boundingthroughthedarknessofthemooruponhis track. It was a cunning device, for, apart from the chanceofdrivingyourvictimtohisdeath,whatpeas- antwouldventuretoinquiretoocloselyintosucha creatureshouldhegetsightofit,asmanyhavedone, upon the moor? I said it in London, Watson, and I say it again now, that never yet have we helped to hunt down a more dangerous man than he who is lying yonder”—he swept his long arm towards the hugemottledexpanseofgreen-splotchedbogwhich stretchedawayuntilitmergedintotherussetslopes ofthemoor.CHAP etro A R It was the end of November and Holmes and I sat, upon a raw and foggy night, on either side of a blazingfireinoursitting-roominBakerStreet. Since the tragic upshot of our visit to Devonshire he had beenengagedintwoaffairsoftheutmostimportance, in the first of which he had exposed the atrocious conduct of Colonel Upwood in connection with the famouscardscandaloftheNonpareilClub,whilein the second he had defended the unfortunate Mme.</s>Montpensierfromthechargeofmurderwhichhung over her in connection with the death of her step- daughter,Mlle.Carere,theyoungladywho,asitwill beremembered,wasfoundsixmonthslateraliveand marriedinNewYork. Myfriendwasinexcellentspir- itsoverthesuccesswhichhadattendedasuccession ofdifficultandimportantcases,sothatIwasableto induce him to discuss the details of the Baskerville mystery. I had waited patiently for the opportunity, forIwasawarethathewouldneverpermitcasesto overlap, and that his clear and logical mind would not be drawn from its present work to dwell upon memories of the past. Sir Henry and Dr. Mortimer were,however,inLondon,ontheirwaytothatlong voyagewhichhadbeenrecommendedfortherestora- tion of his shattered nerves. They had called upon usthatveryafternoon,sothatitwasnaturalthatthe subjectshouldcomeupfordiscussion.</s>“Thewholecourseofevents,”saidHolmes,“from thepointofviewofthemanwhocalledhimselfSta- pleton was simple and direct, although to us, who had no means in the beginning of knowing the mo- tives of his actions and could only learn part of the facts,itallappearedexceedinglycomplex. Ihavehad theadvantageoftwoconversationswithMrs.Staple- ton, and the case has now been so entirely cleared upthatIamnotawarethatthereisanythingwhich hasremainedasecrettous. Youwillfindafewnotes uponthematterundertheheadingBinmyindexed listofcases.” “Perhaps you would kindly give me a sketch of thecourseofeventsfrommemory.” “Certainly,thoughIcannotguaranteethatIcarry allthefactsinmymind. Intensementalconcentration has a curious way of blotting out what has passed.</s>The barrister who has his case at his fingers’ ends, and is able to argue with an expert upon his own subject finds that a week or two of the courts will driveitalloutofhisheadoncemore. Soeachofmy casesdisplacesthelast,andMlle.Carerehasblurred TER XV.</s>spection myrecollectionofBaskervilleHall. To-morrowsome other little problem may be submitted to my notice which will in turn dispossess the fair French lady andtheinfamousUpwood. Sofarasthecaseofthe Hound goes, however, I will give you the course of events as nearly as I can, and you will suggest any- thingwhichImayhaveforgotten.</s>“Myinquiriesshowbeyondallquestionthatthe family portrait did not lie, and that this fellow was indeed a Baskerville. He was a son of that Rodger Baskerville,theyoungerbrotherofSirCharles,who fled with a sinister reputation to South America, wherehewassaidtohavediedunmarried. Hedid,as amatteroffact,marry,andhadonechild,thisfellow, whoserealnameisthesameashisfather’s. Hemar- ried Beryl Garcia, one of the beauties of Costa Rica, and,havingpurloinedaconsiderablesumofpublic money,hechangedhisnametoVandeleurandfledto England,whereheestablishedaschoolintheeastof Yorkshire. Hisreasonforattemptingthisspecialline ofbusinesswasthathehadstruckupanacquaintance withaconsumptivetutoruponthevoyagehome,and thathehadusedthisman’sabilitytomaketheunder- takingasuccess. Fraser,thetutor,diedhowever,and theschoolwhichhadbegunwellsankfromdisrepute into infamy. The Vandeleurs found it convenient to changetheirnametoStapleton, andhebroughtthe remainsofhisfortune,hisschemesforthefuture,and his taste for entomology to the south of England. I learned at the British Museum that he was a recog- nizedauthorityuponthesubject,andthatthename ofVandeleurhasbeenpermanentlyattachedtoacer- tainmothwhichhehad,inhisYorkshiredays,been thefirsttodescribe.</s>“We now come to that portion of his life which has proved to be of such intense interest to us. The fellow had evidently made inquiry and found that onlytwolivesintervenedbetweenhimandavaluable estate. WhenhewenttoDevonshirehisplanswere,I believe,exceedinglyhazy,butthathemeantmischief from the first is evident from the way in which he took his wife with him in the character of his sister.</s>Theideaofusingherasadecoywasclearlyalready in his mind, though he may not have been certain how the details of his plot were to be arranged. He meantintheendtohavetheestate,andhewasready touseanytoolorrunanyriskforthatend. Hisfirst act was to establish himself as near to his ancestral homeashecould,andhissecondwastocultivateafriendshipwithSirCharlesBaskervilleandwiththe neighbours.</s>“The baronet himself told him about the family hound, and so prepared the way for his own death.</s>Stapleton, as I will continue to call him, knew that theoldman’sheartwasweakandthatashockwould killhim. SomuchhehadlearnedfromDr.Mortimer.</s>HehadheardalsothatSirCharleswassuperstitious and had taken this grim legend very seriously. His ingeniousmindinstantlysuggestedawaybywhich thebaronetcouldbedonetodeath,andyetitwould behardlypossibletobringhometheguilttothereal murderer.</s>“Havingconceivedtheideaheproceededtocarry itoutwithconsiderablefinesse. Anordinaryschemer wouldhavebeencontenttoworkwithasavagehound.</s>Theuseofartificialmeanstomakethecreaturedia- bolicalwasaflashofgeniusuponhispart. Thedog he bought in London from Ross and Mangles, the dealers in Fulham Road. It was the strongest and mostsavageintheirpossession. Hebroughtitdown bytheNorthDevonlineandwalkedagreatdistance over the moor so as to get it home without exciting any remarks. He had already on his insect hunts learned to penetrate the Grimpen Mire, and so had found a safe hiding-place for the creature. Here he kennelleditandwaitedhischance.</s>“Butitwassometimecoming. Theoldgentleman couldnotbedecoyedoutsideofhisgroundsatnight.</s>SeveraltimesStapletonlurkedaboutwithhishound, butwithoutavail. Itwasduringthesefruitlessquests thathe,orratherhisally,wasseenbypeasants,and thatthelegendofthedemondogreceivedanewcon- firmation. HehadhopedthathiswifemightlureSir Charlestohisruin,butheresheprovedunexpectedly independent. She would not endeavour to entangle theoldgentlemaninasentimentalattachmentwhich might deliver him over to his enemy. Threats and even, I am sorry to say, blows refused to move her.</s>Shewouldhavenothingtodowithit,andforatime Stapletonwasatadeadlock.</s>“Hefoundawayoutofhisdifficultiesthroughthe chancethatSirCharles,whohadconceivedafriend- ship for him, made him the minister of his charity in the case of this unfortunate woman, Mrs. Laura Lyons. By representing himself as a single man he acquired complete influence over her, and he gave hertounderstandthatintheeventofherobtaininga divorcefromherhusbandhewouldmarryher. His plansweresuddenlybroughttoaheadbyhisknowl- edgethatSirCharleswasabouttoleavetheHallon the advice of Dr. Mortimer, with whose opinion he himself pretended to coincide. He must act at once, orhisvictimmightgetbeyondhispower. Hethere- foreputpressureuponMrs.Lyonstowritethisletter, imploringtheoldmantogiveheraninterviewonthe eveningbeforehisdepartureforLondon. Hethen,by aspeciousargument,preventedherfromgoing,and sohadthechanceforwhichhehadwaited.</s>“DrivingbackintheeveningfromCoombeTracey he was in time to get his hound, to treat it with his infernal paint, and to bring the beast round to the gateatwhichhehadreasontoexpectthathewould findtheoldgentlemanwaiting. Thedog,incitedby itsmaster,sprangoverthewicket-gateandpursued the unfortunate baronet, who fled screaming down theYewAlley. Inthatgloomytunnelitmustindeed havebeenadreadfulsighttoseethathugeblackcrea- ture,withitsflamingjawsandblazingeyes,bounding after its victim. He fell dead at the end of the alley from heart disease and terror. The hound had kept upon the grassy border while the baronet had run down the path, so that no track but the man’s was visible. On seeing him lying still the creature had probablyapproachedtosniffathim,butfindinghim deadhadturnedawayagain. Itwasthenthatitleft the print which was actually observed by Dr. Mor- timer. Thehoundwascalledoffandhurriedawayto itslairintheGrimpenMire,andamysterywasleft whichpuzzledtheauthorities,alarmedthecountry- side,andfinallybroughtthecasewithinthescopeof ourobservation.</s>“SomuchforthedeathofSirCharlesBaskerville.</s>You perceive the devilish cunning of it, for really it would be almost impossible to make a case against therealmurderer. Hisonlyaccomplicewasonewho couldnevergivehimaway,andthegrotesque,incon- ceivablenatureofthedeviceonlyservedtomakeit moreeffective. Bothofthewomenconcernedinthe case,Mrs.StapletonandMrs.LauraLyons,wereleft withastrongsuspicionagainstStapleton. Mrs.Staple- tonknewthathehaddesignsupontheoldman,and alsooftheexistenceofthehound. Mrs.Lyonsknew neither of these things, but had been impressed by thedeathoccurringatthetimeofanuncancelledap- pointmentwhichwasonlyknowntohim. However, both of them were under his influence, and he had nothing to fear from them. The first half of his task wassuccessfullyaccomplishedbutthemoredifficult stillremained.</s>“ItispossiblethatStapletondidnotknowofthe existenceofanheirinCanada. Inanycasehewould verysoonlearnitfromhisfriendDr.Mortimer,and hewastoldbythelatteralldetailsaboutthearrivalofHenryBaskerville. Stapleton’sfirstideawasthatthis youngstrangerfromCanadamightpossiblybedone todeathinLondonwithoutcomingdowntoDevon- shireatall. Hedistrustedhiswifeeversinceshehad refusedtohelphiminlayingatrapfortheoldman, and he dared not leave her long out of his sight for fearheshouldlosehisinfluenceoverher. Itwasfor thisreasonthathetookhertoLondonwithhim. They lodged, I find, at the Mexborough Private Hotel, in CravenStreet,whichwasactuallyoneofthosecalled uponbymyagentinsearchofevidence. Herehekept hiswifeimprisonedinherroomwhilehe,disguised inabeard,followedDr.MortimertoBakerStreetand afterwardstothestationandtotheNorthumberland Hotel. Hiswifehadsomeinklingofhisplans;butshe hadsuchafearofherhusband—afearfoundedupon brutalill-treatment—thatshedarenotwritetowarn themanwhomsheknewtobeindanger. Iftheletter shouldfallintoStapleton’shandsherownlifewould notbesafe. Eventually,asweknow,sheadoptedthe expedientofcuttingoutthewordswhichwouldform themessage,andaddressingtheletterinadisguised hand. Itreachedthebaronet,andgavehimthefirst warningofhisdanger.</s>“ItwasveryessentialforStapletontogetsomear- ticleofSirHenry’sattiresothat,incasehewasdriven tousethedog,hemightalwayshavethemeansofset- tinghimuponhistrack. Withcharacteristicprompt- ness and audacity he set about this at once, and we cannotdoubtthatthebootsorchamber-maidofthe hotel was well bribed to help him in his design. By chance, however, the first boot which was procured for him was a new one and, therefore, useless for his purpose. He then had it returned and obtained another—amostinstructiveincident,sinceitproved conclusivelytomymindthatweweredealingwitha realhound,asnoothersuppositioncouldexplainthis anxietytoobtainanoldbootandthisindifferenceto anewone. Themoreoutre´ andgrotesqueanincident isthemorecarefullyitdeservestobeexamined,and theverypointwhichappearstocomplicateacaseis, whendulyconsideredandscientificallyhandled,the onewhichismostlikelytoelucidateit.</s>“Thenwehadthevisitfromourfriendsnextmorn- ing,shadowedalwaysbyStapletoninthecab. From his knowledge of our rooms and of my appearance, as well as from his general conduct, I am inclined tothinkthatStapleton’scareerofcrimehasbeenby no means limited to this single Baskerville affair. It is suggestive that during the last three years there have been four considerable burglaries in the West Country, for none of which was any criminal ever arrested. The last of these, at Folkestone Court, in May,wasremarkableforthecold-bloodedpistoling ofthepage,whosurprisedthemaskedandsolitary burglar. I cannot doubt that Stapleton recruited his waning resources in this fashion, and that for years hehasbeenadesperateanddangerousman.</s>“Wehadanexampleofhisreadinessofresource thatmorningwhenhegotawayfromussosuccess- fully, and also of his audacity in sending back my own name to me through the cabman. From that momentheunderstoodthatIhadtakenoverthecase inLondon,andthatthereforetherewasnochancefor himthere. HereturnedtoDartmoorandawaitedthe arrivalofthebaronet.” “One moment!” said I. “You have, no doubt, de- scribedthesequenceofeventscorrectly,butthereis onepointwhichyouhaveleftunexplained. Whatbe- cameofthehoundwhenitsmasterwasinLondon?” “Ihavegivensomeattentiontothismatteranditis undoubtedlyofimportance. Therecanbenoquestion thatStapletonhadaconfidant,thoughitisunlikely that he ever placed himself in his power by sharing allhisplanswithhim. Therewasanoldmanservant at Merripit House, whose name was Anthony. His connectionwiththeStapletonscanbetracedforsev- eral years, as far back as the schoolmastering days, sothathemusthavebeenawarethathismasterand mistresswerereallyhusbandandwife. Thismanhas disappeared and has escaped from the country. It is suggestive that Anthony is not a common name in England, while Antonio is so in all Spanish or Spanish-Americancountries. Theman,likeMrs.Sta- pletonherself,spokegoodEnglish,butwithacurious lispingaccent. Ihavemyselfseenthisoldmancross the Grimpen Mire by the path which Stapleton had marked out. It is very probable, therefore, that in theabsenceofhismasteritwashewhocaredforthe hound,thoughhemayneverhaveknownthepurpose forwhichthebeastwasused.</s>“The Stapletons then went down to Devonshire, whither they were soon followed by Sir Henry and you. OnewordnowastohowIstoodmyselfatthat time. It may possibly recur to your memory that whenIexaminedthepaperuponwhichtheprinted words were fastened I made a close inspection for the water-mark. In doing so I held it within a few inchesofmyeyes,andwasconsciousofafaintsmell of the scent known as white jessamine. There are seventy-fiveperfumes,whichitisverynecessarythat acriminalexpertshouldbeabletodistinguishfrom eachother,andcaseshavemorethanoncewithinmyownexperiencedependedupontheirpromptrecog- nition. The scent suggested the presence of a lady, andalreadymythoughtsbegantoturntowardsthe Stapletons. Thus I had made certain of the hound, andhadguessedatthecriminalbeforeeverwewent tothewestcountry.</s>“It was my game to watch Stapleton. It was evi- dent,however,thatIcouldnotdothisifIwerewith you, since he would be keenly on his guard. I de- ceived everybody, therefore, yourself included, and I came down secretly when I was supposed to be in London. My hardships were not so great as you imagined,thoughsuchtriflingdetailsmustneverin- terfere with the investigation of a case. I stayed for the most part at Coombe Tracey, and only used the hutuponthemoorwhenitwasnecessarytobenear thesceneofaction. Cartwrighthadcomedownwith me, and in his disguise as a country boy he was of greatassistancetome. Iwasdependentuponhimfor foodandcleanlinen. WhenIwaswatchingStapleton, Cartwright was frequently watching you, so that I wasabletokeepmyhanduponallthestrings.</s>“Ihavealreadytoldyouthatyourreportsreached me rapidly, being forwarded instantly from Baker StreettoCoombeTracey. Theywereofgreatservice to me, and especially that one incidentally truthful piece of biography of Stapleton’s. I was able to es- tablish the identity of the man and the woman and knewatlastexactlyhowIstood. Thecasehadbeen considerablycomplicatedthroughtheincidentofthe escaped convict and the relations between him and the Barrymores. This also you cleared up in a very effectiveway,thoughIhadalreadycometothesame conclusionsfrommyownobservations.</s>“By the time that you discovered me upon the moorIhadacompleteknowledgeofthewholebusi- ness, but I had not a case which could go to a jury.</s>EvenStapleton’sattemptuponSirHenrythatnight whichendedinthedeathoftheunfortunateconvict didnothelpusmuchinprovingmurderagainstour man. Thereseemedtobenoalternativebuttocatch himred-handed,andtodosowehadtouseSirHenry, aloneandapparentlyunprotected,asabait. Wedid so,andatthecostofasevereshocktoourclientwe succeededincompletingourcaseanddrivingStaple- ton to his destruction. That Sir Henry should have beenexposedtothisis,Imustconfess,areproachto my management of the case, but we had no means of foreseeing the terrible and paralyzing spectacle whichthebeastpresented,norcouldwepredictthe fogwhichenabledhimtoburstuponusatsuchshort notice. We succeeded in our object at a cost which boththespecialistandDr.Mortimerassuremewill beatemporaryone. Alongjourneymayenableour friendtorecovernotonlyfromhisshatterednerves butalsofromhiswoundedfeelings. Hisloveforthe lady was deep and sincere, and to him the saddest partofallthisblackbusinesswasthatheshouldhave beendeceivedbyher.</s>“It only remains to indicate the part which she hadplayedthroughout. Therecanbenodoubtthat Stapletonexercisedaninfluenceoverherwhichmay have been love or may have been fear, or very pos- siblyboth,sincetheyarebynomeansincompatible emotions. Itwas,atleast,absolutelyeffective. Athis commandsheconsentedtopassashissister,though he found the limits of his power over her when he endeavouredtomakeherthedirectaccessorytomur- der. She was ready to warn Sir Henry so far as she could without implicating her husband, and again andagainshetriedtodoso. Stapletonhimselfseems to have been capable of jealousy, and when he saw the baronet paying courtto the lady, even though it was part of his own plan, still he could not help in- terruptingwithapassionateoutburstwhichrevealed thefierysoulwhichhisself-containedmannersoclev- erlyconcealed. Byencouragingtheintimacyhemade it certain that Sir Henry would frequently come to Merripit House and that he would sooner or later gettheopportunitywhichhedesired. Onthedayof thecrisis,however,hiswifeturnedsuddenlyagainst him. She had learned something of the death of theconvict,andsheknewthatthehoundwasbeing keptintheout-houseontheeveningthatSirHenry was coming to dinner. She taxed her husband with hisintendedcrime,andafuriousscenefollowed,in which he showed her for the first time that she had a rival in his love. Her fidelity turned in an instant to bitter hatred and he saw that she would betray him. He tied her up, therefore, that she might have no chance of warning Sir Henry, and he hoped, no doubt, that when the whole country-side put down thebaronet’sdeathtothecurseofhisfamily,asthey certainly would do, he could win his wife back to acceptanaccomplishedfactandtokeepsilentupon what she knew. In this I fancy that in any case he madeamiscalculation,andthat,ifwehadnotbeen there,hisdoomwouldnonethelesshavebeensealed.</s>A woman of Spanish blood does not condone such aninjurysolightly. Andnow,mydearWatson,with- out referring to my notes, I cannot give you a more detailedaccountofthiscuriouscase. Idonotknow thatanythingessentialhasbeenleftunexplained.” “HecouldnothopetofrightenSirHenrytodeathashehaddonetheoldunclewithhisbogiehound.” “The beast was savage and half-starved. If its appearance did not frighten its victim to death, at leastitwouldparalyzetheresistancewhichmightbe offered.” “Nodoubt. There onlyremains onedifficulty. If Stapleton came into the succession, how could he explain the fact that he, the heir, had been living unannounced under another name so close to the property? How could he claim it without causing suspicionandinquiry?” “It is a formidable difficulty, and I fear that you ask too much when you expect me to solve it. The pastandthepresentarewithinthefieldofmyinquiry, butwhatamanmaydointhefutureisahardques- tiontoanswer. Mrs.Stapletonhasheardherhusband discusstheproblemonseveraloccasions. Therewere threepossiblecourses. Hemightclaimtheproperty fromSouthAmerica,establishhisidentitybeforethe British authorities there and so obtain the fortune without ever coming to England at all; or he might adoptanelaboratedisguiseduringtheshorttimethat heneedbeinLondon;or,again,hemightfurnishan accomplicewiththeproofsandpapers,puttinghim in as heir, and retaining a claim upon some propor- tion of his income. We cannot doubt from what we knowofhimthathewouldhavefoundsomewayout ofthedifficulty. Andnow,mydearWatson,wehave hadsomeweeksofseverework,andforoneevening, Ithink,wemayturnourthoughtsintomorepleasant channels. Ihaveaboxfor‘LesHuguenots.’ Haveyou heardtheDeReszkes? MightItroubleyouthentobe ready in half an hour, and we can stop at Marcini’s foralittledinnerontheway?”Table of PartI TheWarning ........................</s>SherlockHolmesDiscourses.........</s>TheTragedyofBirlstone.............</s>Darkness............................</s>ThePeopleOftheDrama............</s>ADawningLight....................</s>TheSolution.........................</s>PartII TheMan.............................</s>TheBodymaster.....................</s>Lodge341,Vermissa.................</s>TheValleyofFear...................</s>TheDarkestHour...................</s>Danger..............................</s>TheTrappingofBirdyEdwards .....</s>Epilogue.............................</s>contents ................................ 663 ................................. 667 ................................. 670 ................................ 674 ................................. 679 ................................. 684 ................................. 690 ................................. 699 ................................ 703 ................................. 710 ................................ 717 ................................ 721 ................................ 727 ................................ 731 ................................. 735CHAP he T W aminclinedtothink—”saidI.</s>“I should do so,” Sherlock Holmes re- markedimpatiently.</s>I IbelievethatIamoneofthemostlong- sufferingofmortals;butI’lladmitthatIwasannoyed atthesardonicinterruption.</s>“Really,Holmes,”saidIseverely,“youarealittle tryingattimes.” Hewastoomuchabsorbedwithhisownthoughts to give any immediate answer to my remonstrance.</s>Heleaneduponhishand,withhisuntastedbreakfast beforehim,andhestaredattheslipofpaperwhich he had just drawn from its envelope. Then he took the envelope itself, held it up to the light, and very carefullystudiedboththeexteriorandtheflap.</s>“ItisPorlock’swriting,”saidhethoughtfully. “I canhardlydoubtthatitisPorlock’swriting,though I have seen it only twice before. The Greek e with the peculiar top flourish is distinctive. But if it is Porlock, then it must be something of the very first importance.” Hewasspeakingtohimselfratherthantome;but my vexation disappeared in the interest which the wordsawakened.</s>“WhothenisPorlock?”Iasked.</s>“Porlock,Watson,isanom-de-plume,amereiden- tificationmark;butbehinditliesashiftyandevasive personality. Inaformerletterhefranklyinformedme that the name was not his own, and defied me ever totracehimamongtheteemingmillionsofthisgreat city. Porlock is important, not for himself, but for the great man with whom he is in touch. Picture to yourselfthepilotfishwiththeshark,thejackalwith thelion—anythingthatisinsignificantincompanion- ship with what is formidable: not only formidable, Watson, but sinister—in the highest degree sinister.</s>Thatiswherehecomeswithinmypurview. Youhave heardmespeakofProfessorMoriarty?” “Thefamousscientificcriminal,asfamousamong crooksas—” “My blushes, Watson!” Holmes murmured in a deprecatingvoice.</s>“Iwasabouttosay,asheisunknowntothepub- lic.” “Atouch! Adistincttouch!”criedHolmes. “You are developing a certain unexpected vein of pawky PTER I.</s>arning humour,Watson,againstwhichImustlearntoguard myself. But in calling Moriarty a criminal you are utteringlibelintheeyesofthelaw—andthereliethe gloryandthewonderofit! Thegreatestschemerof all time, the organizer of every deviltry, the control- ling brain of the underworld, a brain which might havemadeormarredthedestinyofnations—that’s theman! Butsoaloofishefromgeneralsuspicion,so immunefromcriticism,soadmirableinhismanage- mentandself-effacement,thatforthoseverywords thatyouhaveutteredhecouldhaleyoutoacourtand emergewithyouryear’spensionasasolatiumforhis wounded character. Is he not the celebrated author ofTheDynamicsofanAsteroid,abookwhichascends to such rarefied heights of pure mathematics that it is said that there was no man in the scientific press capable of criticizing it? Is this a man to traduce? Foul-moutheddoctorandslanderedprofessor—such wouldbeyourrespectiveroles! That’sgenius,Watson.</s>ButifIamsparedbylessermen,ourdaywillsurely come.” “MayIbetheretosee!”Iexclaimeddevoutly. “But youwerespeakingofthismanPorlock.” “Ah, yes—the so-called Porlock is a link in the chainsomelittlewayfromitsgreatattachment. Por- lockisnotquiteasoundlink—betweenourselves. He istheonlyflawinthatchainsofarasIhavebeenable totestit.” “Butnochainisstrongerthanitsweakestlink.” “Exactly, my dear Watson! Hence the extreme importance of Porlock. Led on by some rudimen- tary aspirations towards right, and encouraged by thejudiciousstimulationofanoccasionalten-pound notesenttohimbydeviousmethods,hehasonceor twicegivenmeadvanceinformationwhichhasbeen of value—that highest value which anticipates and prevents rather than avenges crime. I cannot doubt that, if we had the cipher, we should find that this communicationisofthenaturethatIindicate.” Again Holmes flattened out the paper upon his unused plate. I rose and, leaning over him, stared downatthecuriousinscription,whichranasfollows: 534C21312736314172141 DOUGLAS109293537BIRLSTONE 26BIRLSTONE947171“Whatdoyoumakeofit,Holmes?” “Itisobviouslyanattempttoconveysecretinfor- mation.” “Butwhatistheuseofaciphermessagewithout thecipher?” “Inthisinstance,noneatall.” “Whydoyousay‘inthisinstance’?” “Because there are many ciphers which I would read as easily as I do the apocrypha of the agony column: such crude devices amuse the intelligence withoutfatiguingit. Butthisisdifferent. Itisclearlya referencetothewordsinapageofsomebook. UntilI amtoldwhichpageandwhichbookIampowerless.” “Butwhy‘Douglas’and‘Birlstone’?” “Clearlybecausethosearewordswhichwerenot containedinthepageinquestion.” “Thenwhyhashenotindicatedthebook?” “Your native shrewdness, my dear Watson, that innate cunning which is the delight of your friends, wouldsurelypreventyoufrominclosingcipherand message in the same envelope. Should it miscarry, you are undone. As it is, both have to go wrong before any harm comes from it. Our second post is now overdue, and I shall be surprised if it does not bring us either a further letter of explanation, or, as is more probable, the very volume to which these figuresrefer.” Holmes’s calculation was fulfilled within a very fewminutesbytheappearanceofBilly,thepage,with theveryletterwhichwewereexpecting.</s>“The same writing,” remarked Holmes, as he openedtheenvelope,“andactuallysigned,”headded inanexultantvoiceasheunfoldedtheepistle. “Come, wearegettingon,Watson.”Hisbrowclouded,how- ever,asheglancedoverthecontents.</s>“Dearme,thisisverydisappointing! Ifear,Wat- son,thatallourexpectationscometonothing. Itrust thatthemanPorlockwillcometonoharm.</s>“DearMr.Holmes[hesays]: “I will go no further in this matter. It is too dangerous—he suspects me. I can see that he suspects me. He came to me quiteunexpectedlyafterIhadactuallyad- dressed this envelope with the intention of sending you the key to the cipher. I was able to cover it up. If he had seen it, it would have gone hard with me. But I readsuspicioninhiseyes. Pleaseburnthe cipher message, which can now be of no usetoyou.</s>—“FredPorlock.” Holmessatforsomelittletimetwistingthisletter betweenhisfingers,andfrowning,ashestaredinto thefire.</s>“Afterall,”hesaidatlast,“theremaybenothing init. Itmaybeonlyhisguiltyconscience. Knowing himselftobeatraitor,hemayhavereadtheaccusa- tionintheother’seyes.” “Theotherbeing,Ipresume,ProfessorMoriarty.” “Noless! Whenanyofthatpartytalkabout‘He’ you know whom they mean. There is one predomi- nant‘He’forallofthem.” “Butwhatcanhedo?” “Hum! That’s a large question. When you have oneofthefirstbrainsofEuropeupagainstyou,and allthepowersofdarknessathisback,thereareinfi- nitepossibilities. Anyhow,FriendPorlockisevidently scaredoutofhissenses—kindlycomparethewriting inthenotetothatuponitsenvelope;whichwasdone, he tells us, before this ill-omened visit. The one is clearandfirm. Theotherhardlylegible.” “Whydidhewriteatall? Whydidhenotsimply dropit?” “Because he feared I would make some inquiry afterhiminthatcase,andpossiblybringtroubleon him.” “No doubt,” said I. “Of course.” I had picked uptheoriginalciphermessageandwasbendingmy brows over it. “It’s pretty maddening to think that animportantsecretmayliehereonthisslipofpaper, andthatitisbeyondhumanpowertopenetrateit.” Sherlock Holmes had pushed away his untasted breakfast and lit the unsavoury pipe which was the companion of his deepest meditations. “I wonder!” saidhe,leaningbackandstaringattheceiling. “Per- hapstherearepointswhichhaveescapedyourMachi- avellianintellect. Letusconsidertheprobleminthe lightofpurereason. Thisman’sreferenceistoabook.</s>Thatisourpointofdeparture.” “Asomewhatvagueone.” “Let us see then if we can narrow it down. As I focusmyminduponit,itseemsratherlessimpene- trable. Whatindicationshaveweastothisbook?” “None.” “Well, well, it is surely not quite so bad as that.</s>The cipher message begins with a large 534, does it not? We may take it as a working hypothesis that 534istheparticularpagetowhichthecipherrefers.</s>Soourbookhasalreadybecomealargebookwhichis surely something gained. What other indications haveweastothenatureofthislargebook? Thenext signisC2. Whatdoyoumakeofthat,Watson?” “Chapterthesecond,nodoubt.” “Hardlythat,Watson. Youwill,Iamsure,agree withmethatifthepagebegiven,thenumberofthe chapterisimmaterial. Alsothatifpage534findsus onlyinthesecondchapter,thelengthofthefirstone musthavebeenreallyintolerable.” “Column!”Icried.</s>“Brilliant,Watson. Youarescintillatingthismorn- ing. Ifitisnotcolumn,thenIamverymuchdeceived.</s>So now, you see, we begin to visualize a large book printed in double columns which are each of a con- siderablelength,sinceoneofthewordsisnumbered inthedocumentasthetwohundredandninety-third.</s>Have we reached the limits of what reason can sup- ply?” “Ifearthatwehave.” “Surelyyoudoyourselfaninjustice. Onemorecor- uscation,mydearWatson—yetanotherbrain-wave! Hadthevolumebeenanunusualone,hewouldhave sentittome. Insteadofthat,hehadintended,before his plans were nipped, to send me the clue in this envelope. He says so in his note. This would seem to indicate that the book is one which he thought I would have no difficulty in finding for myself. He hadit—andheimaginedthatIwouldhaveit,too. In short,Watson,itisaverycommonbook.” “Whatyousaycertainlysoundsplausible.” “So we have contracted our field of search to a large book, printed in double columns and in com- monuse.” “TheBible!”Icriedtriumphantly.</s>“Good, Watson, good! But not, if I may say so, quitegoodenough! EvenifIacceptedthecompliment for myself I could hardly name any volume which wouldbelesslikelytolieattheelbowofoneofMo- riarty’sassociates. Besides,theeditionsofHolyWrit are so numerous that he could hardly suppose that twocopieswouldhavethesamepagination. Thisis clearlyabookwhichisstandardized. Heknowsfor certain that his page 534 will exactly agree with my page534.” “Butveryfewbookswouldcorrespondwiththat.” “Exactly. Thereinliesoursalvation. Oursearchis narroweddowntostandardizedbookswhichanyone maybesupposedtopossess.” “Bradshaw!” “Therearedifficulties,Watson. Thevocabularyof Bradshawisnervousandterse,butlimited. Theselec- tionofwordswouldhardlylenditselftothesending of general messages. We will eliminate Bradshaw.</s>The dictionary is, I fear, inadmissible for the same reason. Whatthenisleft?” “Analmanac!” “Excellent, Watson! I am very much mistaken if you have not touched the spot. An almanac! Let us consider the claims of Whitaker’s Almanac. It is in commonuse. Ithastherequisitenumberofpages. It is in double column. Though reserved in its earlier vocabulary,itbecomes,ifIrememberright,quitegar- ruloustowardstheend.”Hepickedthevolumefrom his desk. “Here is page 534, column two, a substan- tialblockofprintdealing,Iperceive,withthetrade and resources of British India. Jot down the words, Watson! Numberthirteenis‘Mahratta.’ Not,Ifear,a veryauspiciousbeginning. Numberonehundredand twenty-sevenis‘Government’;whichatleastmakes sense,thoughsomewhatirrelevanttoourselvesand ProfessorMoriarty. Nowletustryagain. Whatdoes theMahrattagovernmentdo? Alas! thenextwordis ‘pig’s-bristles.’ Weareundone,mygoodWatson! Itis finished!” Hehadspokeninjestingvein, butthetwitching of his bushy eyebrows bespoke his disappointment and irritation. I sat helpless and unhappy, staring intothefire. Alongsilencewasbrokenbyasudden exclamationfromHolmes,whodashedatacupboard, fromwhichheemergedwithasecondyellow-covered volumeinhishand.</s>“We pay the price, Watson, for being too up-to- date!”he cried. “Weare beforeour time, andsuffer theusualpenalties. BeingtheseventhofJanuary,we haveveryproperlylaidinthenewalmanac. Itismore thanlikelythatPorlocktookhismessagefromtheold one. Nodoubthewouldhavetoldussohadhisletter ofexplanationbeenwritten. Nowletusseewhatpage 534 has in store for us. Number thirteen is ‘There,’ whichismuchmorepromising. Numberonehundred andtwenty-sevenis‘is’—‘Thereis’”—Holmes’seyes weregleamingwithexcitement,andhisthin,nervous fingerstwitchedashecountedthewords—“‘danger.’ Ha! Ha! Capital! Put that down, Watson. ‘There is danger—may—come—very—soon—one.’ Then wehavethename‘Douglas’—‘rich—country—now— at—Birlstone—House—Birlstone—confidence—is— pressing.’ There,Watson! Whatdoyouthinkofpure reason and its fruit? If the greengrocer had such a thing as a laurel wreath, I should send Billy round forit.”IwasstaringatthestrangemessagewhichIhad scrawled,ashedecipheredit,uponasheetoffoolscap onmyknee.</s>“Whataqueer,scramblingwayofexpressinghis meaning!”saidI.</s>“On the contrary, he has done quite remarkably well,” said Holmes. “When you search a single col- umnforwordswithwhichtoexpressyourmeaning, you can hardly expect to get everything you want.</s>Youareboundtoleavesomethingtotheintelligence ofyourcorrespondent. Thepurportisperfectlyclear.</s>SomedeviltryisintendedagainstoneDouglas,who- ever he may be, residing as stated, a rich country gentleman. He is sure—‘confidence’ was as near as hecouldgetto‘confident’—thatitispressing. There is our result—and a very workmanlike little bit of analysisitwas!” Holmes had the impersonal joy of the true artist inhisbetterwork,evenashemourneddarklywhen it fell below the high level to which he aspired. He wasstillchucklingoverhissuccesswhenBillyswung openthedoorandInspectorMacDonaldofScotland Yardwasusheredintotheroom.</s>Thoseweretheearlydaysattheendofthe’80’s, whenAlecMacDonaldwasfarfromhavingattained thenationalfamewhichhehasnowachieved. Hewas a young but trusted member of the detective force, whohaddistinguishedhimselfinseveralcaseswhich hadbeenentrustedtohim. Histall,bonyfiguregave promise of exceptional physical strength, while his great cranium and deep-set, lustrous eyes spoke no less clearly of the keen intelligence which twinkled outfrombehindhisbushyeyebrows. Hewasasilent, precisemanwithadournatureandahardAberdo- nianaccent.</s>Twice already in his career had Holmes helped himtoattainsuccess,hisownsolerewardbeingthe intellectual joy of the problem. For this reason the affection and respect of the Scotchman for his ama- teurcolleaguewereprofound,andheshowedthem by the frankness with which he consulted Holmes ineverydifficulty. Mediocrityknowsnothinghigher thanitself;buttalentinstantlyrecognizesgenius,and MacDonald had talent enough for his profession to enablehimtoperceivethattherewasnohumiliation in seeking the assistance of one who already stood alone in Europe, both in his gifts and in his experi- ence. Holmeswasnotpronetofriendship,buthewas tolerantofthebigScotchman,andsmiledatthesight ofhim.</s>“Youareanearlybird,Mr.Mac,”saidhe. “Iwish youluckwithyourworm. Ifearthismeansthatthere issomemischiefafoot.” “If you said ‘hope’ instead of ‘fear,’ it would be nearer the truth, I’m thinking, Mr. Holmes,” the in- spectoranswered,withaknowinggrin. “Well,maybe aweenipwouldkeepouttherawmorningchill. No, Iwon’tsmoke,Ithankyou. I’llhavetobepushingon myway;fortheearlyhoursofacasearetheprecious ones, as no man knows better than your own self.</s>But—but—” Theinspectorhadstoppedsuddenly,andwasstar- ing with a look of absolute amazement at a paper upon the table. It was the sheet upon which I had scrawledtheenigmaticmessage.</s>“Douglas!”hestammered. “Birlstone! What’sthis, Mr.Holmes? Man,it’switchcraft! Whereinthename ofallthatiswonderfuldidyougetthosenames?” “It is a cipher that Dr. Watson and I have had occasion to solve. But why—what’s amiss with the names?” Theinspectorlookedfromonetotheotherofus in dazed astonishment. “Just this,” said he, “that Mr.DouglasofBirlstoneManorHousewashorribly murderedlastnight!”CHAP herlock ol S H Itwasoneofthosedramaticmomentsforwhich myfriendexisted. Itwouldbeanoverstatementtosay thathewasshockedorevenexcitedbytheamazing announcement. Withouthavingatingeofcrueltyin hissingularcomposition,hewasundoubtedlycallous fromlongover-stimulation. Yet,ifhisemotionswere dulled,hisintellectualperceptionswereexceedingly active. There was no trace then of the horror which Ihadmyselffeltatthiscurtdeclaration;buthisface showedratherthequietandinterestedcomposureof thechemistwhoseesthecrystalsfallingintoposition fromhisoversaturatedsolution.</s>“Remarkable!”saidhe. “Remarkable!” “Youdon’tseemsurprised.” “Interested,Mr.Mac,buthardlysurprised. Why shouldIbesurprised? Ireceiveananonymouscom- munication from a quarter which I know to be im- portant,warningmethatdangerthreatensacertain person. WithinanhourIlearnthatthisdangerhasac- tuallymaterializedandthatthepersonisdead. Iam interested;but,asyouobserve,Iamnotsurprised.” In a few short sentences he explained to the in- spectorthefactsabouttheletterandthecipher. Mac- Donaldsatwithhischinonhishandsandhisgreat sandyeyebrowsbunchedintoayellowtangle.</s>“I was going down to Birlstone this morning,” saidhe. “Ihadcometoaskyouifyoucaredtocome withme—youandyourfriendhere. Butfromwhat you say we might perhaps be doing better work in London.” “Iratherthinknot,”saidHolmes.</s>“Hang it all, Mr. Holmes!” cried the inspector.</s>“ThepaperswillbefulloftheBirlstonemysteryina dayortwo;butwhere’sthemysteryifthereisaman in London who prophesied the crime before ever it occurred? Wehaveonlytolayourhandsonthatman, andtherestwillfollow.” “Nodoubt,Mr.Mac. Buthowdoyouproposeto layyourhandsontheso-calledPorlock?” MacDonaldturnedovertheletterwhichHolmes had handed him. “Posted in Camberwell—that doesn’t help us much. Name, you say, is assumed.</s>Notmuchtogoon,certainly. Didn’tyousaythatyou havesenthimmoney?” “Twice.” “Andhow?” TER II.</s>mes iscourses D “InnotestoCamberwellpost-office.” “Didyouevertroubletoseewhocalledforthem?” “No.” The inspector looked surprised and a little shocked. “Whynot?” “Because I always keep faith. I had promised whenhefirstwrotethatIwouldnottrytotracehim.” “Youthinkthereissomeonebehindhim?” “Iknowthereis.” “ThisprofessorthatI’veheardyoumention?” “Exactly!” InspectorMacDonaldsmiled,andhiseyelidquiv- eredasheglancedtowardsme. “Iwon’tconcealfrom you, Mr. Holmes, that we think in the C. I. D. that youhaveaweebitofabeeinyourbonnetoverthis professor. I made some inquiries myself about the matter. He seems to be a very respectable, learned, andtalentedsortofman.” “I’m glad you’ve got so far as to recognize the talent.” “Man, you can’t but recognize it! After I heard yourviewImadeitmybusinesstoseehim. Ihada chatwithhimoneclipses. Howthetalkgotthatway Icannathink;buthehadoutareflectorlanternanda globe,andmadeitallclearinaminute. Helentmea book;butIdon’tmindsayingthatitwasabitabove myhead,thoughIhadagoodAberdeenupbringing.</s>He’dhavemadeagrandmeenisterwithhisthinface andgrayhairandsolemn-likewayoftalking. When heputhishandonmyshoulderaswewereparting, itwaslikeafather’sblessingbeforeyougooutinto thecold,cruelworld.” Holmeschuckledandrubbedhishands. “Great!” he said. “Great! Tell me, Friend MacDonald, this pleasing and touching interview was, I suppose, in theprofessor’sstudy?” “That’sso.” “Afineroom,isitnot?” “Veryfine—veryhandsomeindeed,Mr.Holmes.” “Yousatinfrontofhiswritingdesk?” “Justso.” “Suninyoureyesandhisfaceintheshadow?” “Well, it was evening; but I mind that the lamp wasturnedonmyface.” “Itwouldbe. Didyouhappentoobserveapicture overtheprofessor’shead?”“Idon’tmissmuch,Mr.Holmes. MaybeIlearned thatfromyou. Yes,Isawthepicture—ayoungwoman with her head on her hands, peeping at you side- ways.” “ThatpaintingwasbyJeanBaptisteGreuze.” Theinspectorendeavouredtolookinterested.</s>“JeanBaptisteGreuze,”Holmescontinued,joining hisfingertipsandleaningwellbackinhischair,“was aFrenchartistwhoflourishedbetweentheyears1750 and 1800. I allude, of course to his working career.</s>Modern criticism has more than indorsed the high opinionformedofhimbyhiscontemporaries.” Theinspector’seyesgrewabstracted. “Hadn’twe better—”hesaid.</s>“Wearedoingso,”Holmesinterrupted. “Allthat Iamsayinghasaverydirectandvitalbearingupon whatyouhavecalledtheBirlstoneMystery. Infact,it mayinasensebecalledtheverycentreofit.” MacDonaldsmiledfeebly,andlookedappealingly to me. “Your thoughts move a bit too quick for me, Mr.Holmes. Youleaveoutalinkortwo,andIcan’t getoverthegap. Whatinthewholewideworldcan be the connection between this dead painting man andtheaffairatBirlstone?” “All knowledge comes useful to the detective,” remarked Holmes. “Even the trivial fact that in the year1865apicturebyGreuzeentitledLaJeuneFille a l’Agneau fetched one million two hundred thou- sandfrancs—morethanfortythousandpounds—at thePortalissalemaystartatrainofreflectioninyour mind.” Itwasclearthatitdid. Theinspectorlookedhon- estlyinterested.</s>“Imayremindyou,”Holmescontinued,“thatthe professor’ssalarycanbeascertainedinseveraltrust- worthy books of reference. It is seven hundred a year.” “Thenhowcouldhebuy—” “Quiteso! Howcouldhe?” “Ay, that’s remarkable,” said the inspector thoughtfully. “Talkaway,Mr.Holmes. I’mjustloving it. It’sfine!” Holmes smiled. He was always warmed by gen- uineadmiration—thecharacteristicoftherealartist.</s>“WhataboutBirlstone?”heasked.</s>“We’ve time yet,” said the inspector, glancing at hiswatch. “I’veacabatthedoor,anditwon’ttakeus twentyminutestoVictoria. Butaboutthispicture: I thoughtyoutoldmeonce,Mr.Holmes,thatyouhad nevermetProfessorMoriarty.” “No,Ineverhave.” “Thenhowdoyouknowabouthisrooms?” “Ah,that’sanothermatter. Ihavebeenthreetimes in his rooms, twice waiting for him under different pretexts and leaving before he came. Once—well, I canhardlytellabouttheoncetoanofficialdetective.</s>It was on the last occasion that I took the liberty of runningoverhispapers—withthemostunexpected results.” “Youfoundsomethingcompromising?” “Absolutelynothing. Thatwaswhatamazedme.</s>However,youhavenowseenthepointofthepicture.</s>It shows him to be a very wealthy man. How did he acquire wealth? He is unmarried. His younger brotherisastationmasterinthewestofEngland. His chairisworthsevenhundredayear. Andheownsa Greuze.” “Well?” “Surelytheinferenceisplain.” “Youmeanthathehasagreatincomeandthathe mustearnitinanillegalfashion?” “Exactly. Of course I have other reasons for thinkingso—dozensofexiguousthreadswhichlead vaguelyuptowardsthecentreofthewebwherethe poisonous,motionlesscreatureislurking. Ionlymen- tion the Greuze because it brings the matter within therangeofyourownobservation.” “Well, Mr. Holmes, I admit that what you say is interesting: it’smorethaninteresting—it’sjustwon- derful. Butletushaveitalittleclearerifyoucan. Is itforgery,coining,burglary—wheredoesthemoney comefrom?” “HaveyoueverreadofJonathanWild?” “Well, the name has a familiar sound. Someone in a novel, was he not? I don’t take much stock of detectivesinnovels—chapsthatdothingsandnever letyouseehowtheydothem. That’sjustinspiration: notbusiness.” “JonathanWildwasn’tadetective,andhewasn’t in a novel. He was a master criminal, and he lived lastcentury—1750orthereabouts.” “Thenhe’snousetome. I’mapracticalman.” “Mr. Mac, the most practical thing that you ever didinyourlifewouldbetoshutyourselfupforthree monthsandreadtwelvehoursadayattheannalsof crime. Everything comes in circles—even Professor Moriarty. JonathanWildwasthehiddenforceoftheLondoncriminals,towhomhesoldhisbrainsandhis organization on a fifteen per cent commission. The oldwheelturns, andthesamespokecomesup. It’s all been done before, and will be again. I’ll tell you oneortwothingsaboutMoriartywhichmayinterest you.” “You’llinterestme,rightenough.” “I happen to know who is the first link in his chain—a chain with this Napoleon-gone-wrong at one end, and a hundred broken fighting men, pick- pockets,blackmailers,andcardsharpersattheother, witheverysortofcrimeinbetween. Hischiefofstaff isColonelSebastianMoran,asaloofandguardedand inaccessibletothelawashimself. Whatdoyouthink hepayshim?” “I’dliketohear.” “Six thousand a year. That’s paying for brains, yousee—theAmericanbusinessprinciple. Ilearned thatdetailquitebychance. It’smorethanthePrime Minister gets. That gives you an idea of Moriarty’s gains and of the scale on which he works. Another point: I made it my business to hunt down some of Moriarty’s checks lately—just common innocent checks that he pays his household bills with. They were drawn on six different banks. Does that make anyimpressiononyourmind?” “Queer, certainly! But what do you gather from it?” “Thathewantednogossipabouthiswealth. No single man should know what he had. I have no doubtthathehastwentybankingaccounts;thebulk of his fortune abroad in the Deutsche Bank or the CreditLyonnaisaslikelyasnot. Sometimewhenyou have a year or two to spare I commend to you the studyofProfessorMoriarty.” Inspector MacDonald had grown steadily more impressedastheconversationproceeded. Hehadlost himselfinhisinterest. NowhispracticalScotchintel- ligence brought him back with a snap to the matter inhand.</s>“He can keep, anyhow,” said he. “You’ve got usside-trackedwithyourinterestinganecdotes,Mr.</s>Holmes. What really counts is your remark that thereissomeconnectionbetweentheprofessorand the crime. That you get from the warning received through the man Porlock. Can we for our present practicalneedsgetanyfurtherthanthat?” “Wemayformsomeconceptionastothemotives of the crime. It is, as I gather from your original remarks,aninexplicable,oratleastanunexplained, murder. Now,presumingthatthesourceofthecrime isaswesuspectittobe,theremightbetwodifferent motives. Inthefirstplace,ImaytellyouthatMoriarty rules with a rod of iron over his people. His disci- pline is tremendous. There is only one punishment inhiscode. Itisdeath. Nowwemightsupposethat thismurderedman—thisDouglaswhoseapproaching fatewasknownbyoneofthearch-criminal’ssubor- dinates—had in some way betrayed the chief. His punishmentfollowed,andwouldbeknowntoall—if onlytoputthefearofdeathintothem.” “Well,thatisonesuggestion,Mr.Holmes.” “The other is that it has been engineered by Mo- riarty in the ordinary course of business. Was there anyrobbery?” “Ihavenotheard.” “Ifso,itwould,ofcourse,beagainstthefirsthy- pothesis and in favour of the second. Moriarty may havebeenengagedtoengineeritonapromiseofpart spoils, or he may have been paid so much down to manage it. Either is possible. But whichever it may be, or if it is some third combination, it is down at Birlstonethatwemustseekthesolution. Iknowour mantoowelltosupposethathehasleftanythingup herewhichmayleadustohim.” “ThentoBirlstonewemustgo!”criedMacDonald, jumping from his chair. “My word! it’s later than I thought. Icangiveyou,gentlemen,fiveminutesfor preparation,andthatisall.” “And ample for us both,” said Holmes, as he sprang up and hastened to change from his dress- inggowntohiscoat. “Whileweareonourway,Mr.</s>Mac,Iwillaskyoutobegoodenoughtotellmeall aboutit.” “Allaboutit”provedtobedisappointinglylittle, and yet there was enough to assure us that the case beforeusmightwellbeworthyoftheexpert’sclosest attention. Hebrightenedandrubbedhisthinhands togetherashelistenedtothemeagrebutremarkable details. Alongseriesofsterileweekslaybehindus, andhereatlasttherewasafittingobjectforthosere- markablepowerswhich,likeallspecialgifts,become irksometotheirownerwhentheyarenotinuse. That razorbrainbluntedandrustedwithinaction.</s>SherlockHolmes’seyesglistened,hispalecheeks tookawarmerhue, andhiswholeeagerfaceshone withaninwardlightwhenthecallforworkreached him. Leaningforwardinthecab,helistenedintently to MacDonald’s short sketch of the problem whichawaitedusinSussex. Theinspectorwashimselfde- pendent, asheexplainedtous, uponascribbledac- countforwardedtohimbythemilktrainintheearly hoursofthemorning. WhiteMason,thelocalofficer, was a personal friend, and hence MacDonald had been notified much more promptly than is usual at ScotlandYardwhenprovincialsneedtheirassistance.</s>It is a very cold scent upon which the Metropolitan expertisgenerallyaskedtorun.</s>“DearInspectorMacDonald[saidthe letterwhichhereadtous]: “Officialrequisitionforyourservicesis inseparateenvelope. Thisisforyourpri- vateeye. Wiremewhattraininthemorn- ing you can get for Birlstone, and I will meet it—or have it met if I am too occu- pied. This case is a snorter. Don’t waste a moment in getting started. If you can bring Mr. Holmes, please do so; for he will find something after his own heart.</s>Wewouldthinkthewholethinghadbeen fixedupfortheatricaleffectiftherewasn’t adeadmaninthemiddleofit. Myword! itisasnorter.“ “Your friend seems to be no fool,” remarked Holmes.</s>CHAP he ragedy T T NowforamomentIwillaskleavetoremovemy owninsignificantpersonalityandtodescribeevents whichoccurredbeforewearriveduponthesceneby thelightofknowledgewhichcametousafterwards.</s>OnlyinthiswaycanImakethereaderappreciatethe people concerned and the strange setting in which theirfatewascast.</s>The village of Birlstone is a small and very an- cientclusterofhalf-timberedcottagesonthenorthern border of the county of Sussex. For centuries it had remainedunchanged;butwithinthelastfewyearsits picturesqueappearanceandsituationhaveattracted anumberofwell-to-doresidents,whosevillaspeep outfromthewoodsaround. Thesewoodsarelocally “No,sir,WhiteMasonisaveryliveman,ifIam anyjudge.” “Well,haveyouanythingmore?” “Only that he will give us every detail when we meet.” “Then how did you get at Mr. Douglas and the factthathehadbeenhorriblymurdered?” “Thatwasintheenclosedofficialreport. Itdidn’t say‘horrible’: that’snotarecognizedofficialterm. It gave the name John Douglas. It mentioned that his injurieshadbeeninthehead,fromthedischargeof a shotgun. It also mentioned the hour of the alarm, whichwascloseontomidnightlastnight. Itadded that the case was undoubtedly one of murder, but thatnoarresthadbeenmade,andthatthecasewas one which presented some very perplexing and ex- traordinaryfeatures. That’sabsolutelyallwehaveat present,Mr.Holmes.” “Then, with your permission, we will leave it at that, Mr. Mac. The temptation to form premature theories upon insufficient data is the bane of our profession. I can see only two things for certain at present—agreatbraininLondon,andadeadmanin Sussex. It’s the chain between that we are going to trace.” TER III.</s>of irlstone B supposedtobetheextremefringeofthegreatWeald forest,whichthinsawayuntilitreachesthenorthern chalk downs. A number of small shops have come into being to meet the wants of the increased popu- lation; so there seems some prospect that Birlstone may soon grow from an ancient village into a mod- ern town. It is the centre for a considerable area of country, since Tunbridge Wells, the nearest place of importance, is ten or twelve miles to the eastward, overthebordersofKent.</s>About half a mile from the town, standing in an old park famous for its huge beech trees, is the an- cientManorHouseofBirlstone. Partofthisvenerable building dates back to the time of the first crusade,whenHugodeCapusbuiltafortaliceinthecentreof theestate,whichhadbeengrantedtohimbytheRed King. Thiswasdestroyedbyfirein1543,andsomeof itssmoke-blackenedcornerstoneswereusedwhen, in Jacobean times, a brick country house rose upon theruinsofthefeudalcastle.</s>The Manor House, with its many gables and its smalldiamond-panedwindows,wasstillmuchasthe builder had left it in the early seventeenth century.</s>Of the double moats which had guarded its more warlike predecessor, the outer had been allowed to dryup,andservedthehumblefunctionofakitchen garden. The inner one was still there, and lay forty feetinbreadth,thoughnowonlyafewfeetindepth, round the whole house. A small stream fed it and continuedbeyondit,sothatthesheetofwater,though turbid,wasneverditch-likeorunhealthy. Theground floorwindowswerewithinafootofthesurfaceofthe water.</s>Theonlyapproachtothehousewasoveradraw- bridge, the chains and windlass of which had long been rusted and broken. The latest tenants of the Manor House had, however, with characteristic en- ergy,setthisright,andthedrawbridgewasnotonly capable of being raised, but actually was raised ev- ery evening and lowered every morning. By thus renewing the custom of the old feudal days the ManorHousewasconvertedintoanislandduringthe night—a fact which had a very direct bearing upon themysterywhichwassoontoengagetheattention ofallEngland.</s>The house had been untenanted for some years and was threatening to moulder into a picturesque decaywhentheDouglasestookpossessionofit. This familyconsistedofonlytwoindividuals—JohnDou- glas and his wife. Douglas was a remarkable man, bothincharacterandinperson. Inagehemayhave beenaboutfifty,withastrong-jawed,ruggedface,a grizzlingmoustache,peculiarlykeengrayeyes,and awiry,vigorousfigurewhichhadlostnothingofthe strength and activity of youth. He was cheery and genial to all, but somewhat offhand in his manners, givingtheimpressionthathehadseenlifeinsocial strata on some far lower horizon than the county societyofSussex.</s>Yet, though looked at with some curiosity and reserve by his more cultivated neighbours, he soon acquiredagreatpopularityamongthevillagers,sub- scribinghandsomelytoalllocalobjects,andattending their smoking concerts and other functions, where, havingaremarkablyrichtenorvoice,hewasalways readytoobligewithanexcellentsong. Heappeared tohaveplentyofmoney,whichwassaidtohavebeen gainedintheCaliforniagoldfields,anditwasclear from his own talk and that of his wife that he had spentapartofhislifeinAmerica.</s>The good impression which had been produced byhisgenerosityandbyhisdemocraticmannerswas increasedbyareputationgainedforutterindifference to danger. Though a wretched rider, he turned out ateverymeet,andtookthemostamazingfallsinhis determination to hold his own with the best. When thevicaragecaughtfirehedistinguishedhimselfalso bythefearlessnesswithwhichhereenteredthebuild- ing to save property, after the local fire brigade had given it up as impossible. Thus it came about that John Douglas of the Manor House had within five yearswonhimselfquiteareputationinBirlstone.</s>His wife, too, was popular with those who had made her acquaintance; though, after the English fashion, the callers upon a stranger who settled in the county without introductions were few and far between. This mattered the less to her, as she was retiring by disposition, and very much absorbed, to allappearance,inherhusbandandherdomesticdu- ties. ItwasknownthatshewasanEnglishladywho hadmetMr.DouglasinLondon,hebeingatthattime a widower. She was a beautiful woman, tall, dark, andslender,sometwentyyearsyoungerthanherhus- band,adisparitywhichseemedinnowisetomarthe contentmentoftheirfamilylife.</s>It was remarked sometimes, however, by those whoknewthembest,thattheconfidencebetweenthe twodidnotappeartobecomplete,sincethewifewas eitherveryreticentaboutherhusband’spastlife,or else,asseemedmorelikely,wasimperfectlyinformed about it. It had also been noted and commented uponbyafewobservantpeoplethatthereweresigns sometimesofsomenerve-strainuponthepartofMrs.</s>Douglas,andthatshewoulddisplayacuteuneasiness ifherabsenthusbandshouldeverbeparticularlylate inhisreturn. Onaquietcountryside,whereallgossip is welcome, this weakness of the lady of the Manor House did not pass without remark, and it bulked largeruponpeople’smemorywhentheeventsarose whichgaveitaveryspecialsignificance.</s>Therewasyetanotherindividualwhoseresidence under that roof was, it is true, only an intermittent one, but whose presence at the time of the strange happeningswhichwillnowbenarratedbroughthis nameprominentlybeforethepublic. ThiswasCecil JamesBarker,ofHalesLodge,Hampstead.</s>Cecil Barker’s tall, loose-jointed figure was a fa- miliar one in the main street of Birlstone village;for he was a frequent and welcome visitor at the ManorHouse. Hewasthemorenoticedasbeingthe onlyfriendofthepastunknownlifeofMr.Douglas whowaseverseeninhisnewEnglishsurroundings.</s>BarkerwashimselfanundoubtedEnglishman;butby hisremarksitwasclearthathehadfirstknownDou- glasinAmericaandhadtherelivedonintimateterms withhim. Heappearedtobeamanofconsiderable wealth,andwasreputedtobeabachelor.</s>InagehewasratheryoungerthanDouglas—forty- fiveatthemost—atall,straight,broad-chestedfellow withaclean-shaved,prize-fighterface,thick,strong, black eyebrows, and a pair of masterful black eyes which might, even without the aid of his very ca- pable hands, clear a way for him through a hostile crowd. Heneitherrodenorshot,butspenthisdays inwanderingroundtheoldvillagewithhispipein his mouth, or in driving with his host, or in his ab- sencewithhishostess,overthebeautifulcountryside.</s>“Aneasy-going,free-handedgentleman,”saidAmes, the butler. “But, my word! I had rather not be the manthatcrossedhim!”Hewascordialandintimate with Douglas, and he was no less friendly with his wife—afriendshipwhichmorethanonceseemedto causesomeirritationtothehusband,sothateventhe servants were able to perceive his annoyance. Such wasthethirdpersonwhowasoneofthefamilywhen thecatastropheoccurred.</s>As to the other denizens of the old building, it will suffice out of a large household to mention the prim,respectable,andcapableAmes,andMrs.Allen, abuxomandcheerfulperson,whorelievedthelady ofsomeofherhouseholdcares. Theothersixservants inthehousebearnorelationtotheeventsofthenight ofJanuary6th.</s>It was at eleven forty-five that the first alarm reached the small local police station, in charge of Sergeant Wilson of the Sussex Constabulary. Cecil Barker,muchexcited,hadrusheduptothedoorand pealed furiously upon the bell. A terrible tragedy hadoccurredattheManorHouse,andJohnDouglas hadbeenmurdered. Thatwasthebreathlessburden of his message. He had hurried back to the house, followedwithinafewminutesbythepolicesergeant, who arrived at the scene of the crime a little after twelveo’clock,aftertakingpromptstepstowarnthe countyauthoritiesthatsomethingseriouswasafoot.</s>OnreachingtheManorHouse,thesergeanthad foundthedrawbridgedown,thewindowslightedup, andthewholehouseholdinastateofwildconfusion andalarm. Thewhite-facedservantswerehuddling togetherinthehall,withthefrightenedbutlerwring- ing his hands in the doorway. Only Cecil Barker seemedtobemasterofhimselfandhisemotions;he had opened the door which was nearest to the en- tranceandhehadbeckonedtothesergeanttofollow him. AtthatmomenttherearrivedDr.Wood,abrisk andcapablegeneralpractitionerfromthevillage. The threemenenteredthefatalroomtogether,whilethe horror-strickenbutlerfollowedattheirheels,closing the door behind him to shut out the terrible scene fromthemaidservants.</s>The dead man lay on his back, sprawling with outstretchedlimbsinthecentreoftheroom. Hewas clad only in a pink dressing gown, which covered his night clothes. There were carpet slippers on his barefeet. Thedoctorkneltbesidehimandhelddown the hand lamp which had stood on the table. One glance at the victim was enough to show the healer thathispresencecouldbedispensedwith. Theman hadbeenhorriblyinjured. Lyingacrosshischestwas a curious weapon, a shotgun with the barrel sawed offafootinfrontofthetriggers. Itwasclearthatthis hadbeenfiredatcloserangeandthathehadreceived thewholechargeintheface,blowinghisheadalmost topieces. Thetriggershadbeenwiredtogether,soas tomakethesimultaneousdischargemoredestructive.</s>The country policeman was unnerved and trou- bled by the tremendous responsibility which had comesosuddenlyuponhim. “Wewilltouchnothing untilmysuperiorsarrive,”hesaidinahushedvoice, staringinhorroratthedreadfulhead.</s>“Nothinghasbeentoucheduptonow,”saidCecil Barker. “I’llanswerforthat. YouseeitallexactlyasI foundit.” “Whenwasthat?”Thesergeanthaddrawnouthis notebook.</s>“It was just half-past eleven. I had not begun to undress,andIwassittingbythefireinmybedroom when I heard the report. It was not very loud—it seemed to be muffled. I rushed down—I don’t sup- poseitwasthirtysecondsbeforeIwasintheroom.” “Wasthedooropen?” “Yes, it was open. Poor Douglas was lying as you see him. His bedroom candle was burning on the table. It was I who lit the lamp some minutes afterward.” “Didyouseenoone?” “No. IheardMrs.Douglascomingdownthestair behindme,andIrushedouttopreventherfromsee- ingthisdreadfulsight. Mrs.Allen,thehousekeeper, cameandtookheraway. Ameshadarrived,andwe ranbackintotheroomoncemore.”“But surely I have heard that the drawbridge is keptupallnight.” “Yes,itwasupuntilIloweredit.” “Thenhowcouldanymurdererhavegotaway? It is out of the question! Mr. Douglas must have shot himself.” “That was our first idea. But see!” Barker drew asidethecurtain,andshowedthatthelong,diamond- panedwindowwasopentoitsfullextent. “Andlook at this!” He held the lamp down and illuminated a smudge of blood like the mark of a boot-sole upon thewoodensill. “Someonehasstoodthereingetting out.” “Youmeanthatsomeonewadedacrossthemoat?” “Exactly!” “Thenifyouwereintheroomwithinhalfaminute ofthecrime, hemusthavebeeninthewateratthat verymoment.” “I have not a doubt of it. I wish to heaven that I hadrushedtothewindow! Butthecurtainscreened it, as you can see, and so it never occurred to me.</s>Then I heard the step of Mrs. Douglas, and I could not let her enter the room. It would have been too horrible.” “Horrible enough!” said the doctor, looking at theshatteredheadandtheterriblemarkswhichsur- rounded it. “I’ve never seen such injuries since the Birlstonerailwaysmash.” “But,Isay,”remarkedthepolicesergeant,whose slow,bucoliccommonsensewasstillponderingthe open window. “It’s all very well your saying that a man escaped by wading this moat, but what I ask youis,howdidheevergetintothehouseatallifthe bridgewasup?” “Ah,that’sthequestion,”saidBarker.</s>“Atwhato’clockwasitraised?” “Itwasnearlysixo’clock,”saidAmes,thebutler.</s>“I’veheard,”saidthesergeant,“thatitwasusually raisedatsunset. Thatwouldbenearerhalf-pastfour thansixatthistimeofyear.” “Mrs.Douglashadvisitorstotea,”saidAmes. “I couldn’traiseituntiltheywent. ThenIwounditup myself.” “Thenitcomestothis,”saidthesergeant: “Ifany- onecamefromoutside—if theydid—theymusthave gotinacrossthebridgebeforesixandbeeninhiding eversince,untilMr.Douglascameintotheroomafter eleven.” “That is so! Mr. Douglas went round the house every night the last thing before he turned in to see thatthelightswereright. Thatbroughthiminhere.</s>The man was waiting and shot him. Then he got away through the window and left his gun behind him. That’showIreadit;fornothingelsewillfitthe facts.” The sergeant picked up a card which lay beside thedeadmanonthefloor. TheinitialsV.V.andun- derthemthenumber341wererudelyscrawledinink uponit.</s>“What’sthis?”heasked,holdingitup.</s>Barkerlookedatitwithcuriosity. “Inevernoticed it before,” he said. “The murderer must have left it behindhim.” “V.V.—341. Icanmakenosenseofthat.” Thesergeantkeptturningitoverinhisbigfingers.</s>“What’sV.V.? Somebody’sinitials,maybe. Whathave yougotthere,Dr.Wood?” It was a good-sized hammer which had been ly- ingontheruginfrontofthefireplace—asubstantial, workmanlikehammer. CecilBarkerpointedtoabox ofbrass-headednailsuponthemantelpiece.</s>“Mr.Douglaswasalteringthepicturesyesterday,” hesaid. “Isawhimmyself,standinguponthatchair andfixingthebigpictureaboveit. Thataccountsfor thehammer.” “We’dbestputitbackontherugwherewefound it,”saidthesergeant,scratchinghispuzzledheadin his perplexity. “It will want the best brains in the force to get to the bottom of this thing. It will be a Londonjobbeforeitisfinished.”Heraisedthehand lamp and walked slowly round the room. “Hullo!” he cried, excitedly, drawing the window curtain to oneside. “Whato’clockwerethosecurtainsdrawn?” “When the lamps were lit,” said the butler. “It wouldbeshortlyafterfour.” “Someone had been hiding here, sure enough.” He held down the light, and the marks of muddy bootswereveryvisibleinthecorner. “I’mboundto saythisbearsoutyourtheory,Mr.Barker. Itlooksas ifthemangotintothehouseafterfourwhenthecur- tainsweredrawnandbeforesixwhenthebridgewas raised. Heslippedintothisroom,becauseitwasthe firstthathesaw. Therewasnootherplacewherehe couldhide,sohepoppedinbehindthiscurtain. That allseemsclearenough. Itislikelythathismainidea wastoburglethehouse;butMr.Douglaschancedto comeuponhim,sohemurderedhimandescaped.” “That’s how I read it,” said Barker. “But, I say, aren’t we wasting precious time? Couldn’t we startout and scour the country before the fellow gets away?” Thesergeantconsideredforamoment.</s>“Therearenotrainsbeforesixinthemorning;so hecan’tgetawaybyrail. Ifhegoesbyroadwithhis legs all dripping, it’s odds that someone will notice him. Anyhow, I can’t leave here myself until I am relieved. ButIthinknoneofyoushouldgountilwe seemoreclearlyhowweallstand.” Thedoctorhadtakenthelampandwasnarrowly scrutinizingthebody. “What’sthismark?”heasked.</s>“Couldthishaveanyconnectionwiththecrime?” The dead man’s right arm was thrust out from hisdressinggown,andexposedashighastheelbow.</s>Abouthalfwayuptheforearmwasacuriousbrown design,atriangleinsideacircle,standingoutinvivid reliefuponthelard-colouredskin.</s>“It’s not tattooed,” said the doctor, peering throughhisglasses. “Ineversawanythinglikeit. The man has been branded at some time as they brand cattle. Whatisthemeaningofthis?” “Idon’tprofesstoknowthemeaningofit,”said Cecil Barker; “but I have seen the mark on Douglas manytimesthislasttenyears.” “And so have I,” said the butler. “Many a time whenthemasterhasrolleduphissleevesIhaveno- ticed that very mark. I’ve often wondered what it couldbe.” “Then it has nothing to do with the crime, any- how,”saidthesergeant. “Butit’sarumthingallthe CHAP ar D AtthreeinthemorningthechiefSussexdetective, obeyingtheurgentcallfromSergeantWilsonofBirl- stone, arrivedfrom headquarters in a light dog-cart behindabreathlesstrotter. Bythefive-fortytrainin themorninghehadsenthismessagetoScotlandYard, andhewasattheBirlstonestationattwelveo’clockto welcomeus. WhiteMasonwasaquiet,comfortable- looking person in a loose tweed suit, with a clean- shaved, ruddy face, a stoutish body, and powerful same. Everythingaboutthiscaseisrum. Well,what isitnow?” Thebutlerhadgivenanexclamationofastonish- mentandwaspointingatthedeadman’soutstretched hand.</s>“They’vetakenhisweddingring!”hegasped.</s>“What!” “Yes,indeed. Masteralwaysworehisplaingold weddingringonthelittlefingerofhislefthand. That ring with the rough nugget on it was above it, and thetwistedsnakeringonthethirdfinger. There’sthe nuggetandthere’sthesnake,buttheweddingringis gone.” “He’sright,”saidBarker.</s>“Doyoutellme,”saidthesergeant,“thatthewed- dingringwasbelowtheother?” “Always!” “Thenthemurderer,orwhoeveritwas,firsttook off this ring you call the nugget ring, then the wed- ding ring, and afterwards put the nugget ring back again.” “Thatisso!” The worthy country policeman shook his head.</s>“Seems to me the sooner we get London on to this case the better,” said he. “White Mason is a smart man. NolocaljobhaseverbeentoomuchforWhite Mason. Itwon’tbelongnowbeforeheisheretohelp us. ButIexpectwe’llhavetolooktoLondonbefore wearethrough. Anyhow,I’mnotashamedtosaythat itisadealtoothickforthelikesofme.” TER IV.</s>kness bandylegsadornedwithgaiters,lookinglikeasmall farmer,aretiredgamekeeper,oranythinguponearth except a very favourable specimen of the provincial criminalofficer.</s>“A real downright snorter, Mr. MacDonald!” he keptrepeating. “We’llhavethepressmendownlike flies when they understand it. I’m hoping we will getourworkdonebeforetheygetpokingtheirnoses intoitandmessingupallthetrails. TherehasbeennothinglikethisthatIcanremember. Therearesome bitsthatwillcomehometoyou,Mr.Holmes,orIam mistaken. Andyoualso,Dr.Watson;forthemedicos willhaveawordtosaybeforewefinish. Yourroom isattheWestvilleArms. There’snootherplace;but I hear that it is clean and good. The man will carry yourbags. Thisway,gentlemen,ifyouplease.” He was a very bustling and genial person, this Sussex detective. In ten minutes we had all found ourquarters. Intenmorewewereseatedinthepar- lour of the inn and being treated to a rapid sketch ofthoseeventswhichhavebeenoutlinedinthepre- viouschapter. MacDonaldmadeanoccasionalnote, while Holmes sat absorbed, with the expression of surprised and reverent admiration with which the botanistsurveystherareandpreciousbloom.</s>“Remarkable!” he said, when the story was un- folded,“mostremarkable! Icanhardlyrecallanycase wherethefeatureshavebeenmorepeculiar.” “I thought you would say so, Mr. Holmes,” said WhiteMasoningreatdelight. “We’rewellupwiththe timesinSussex. I’vetoldyounowhowmatterswere, uptothetimewhenItookoverfromSergeantWilson between three and four this morning. My word! I made the old mare go! But I need not have been in suchahurry,asitturnedout;fortherewasnothing immediate that I could do. Sergeant Wilson had all the facts. I checked them and considered them and maybeaddedafewofmyown.” “Whatwerethey?”askedHolmeseagerly.</s>“Well, I first had the hammer examined. There was Dr. Wood there to help me. We found no signs ofviolenceuponit. IwashopingthatifMr.Douglas defended himself with the hammer, he might have lefthismarkuponthemurdererbeforehedroppedit onthemat. Buttherewasnostain.” “That,ofcourse,provesnothingatall,”remarked InspectorMacDonald. “Therehasbeenmanyaham- mermurderandnotraceonthehammer.” “Quite so. It doesn’t prove it wasn’t used. But there might have been stains, and that would have helpedus. Asamatteroffacttherewerenone. Then Iexaminedthegun. Theywerebuckshotcartridges, and,asSergeantWilsonpointedout,thetriggerswere wired together so that, if you pulled on the hinder one, both barrels were discharged. Whoever fixed thatuphadmadeuphismindthathewasgoingto takenochancesofmissinghisman. Thesawedgun was not more than two foot long—one could carry it easily under one’s coat. There was no complete maker’sname;buttheprintedlettersP-E-Nwereon the fluting between the barrels, and the rest of the namehadbeencutoffbythesaw.” “AbigPwithaflourishaboveit,EandNsmaller?” askedHolmes.</s>“Exactly.” “Pennsylvania Small Arms Company—well- knownAmericanfirm,”saidHolmes.</s>WhiteMasongazedatmyfriendasthelittlevil- lagepractitionerlooksattheHarleyStreetspecialist whobyawordcansolvethedifficultiesthatperplex him.</s>“Thatisveryhelpful,Mr.Holmes. Nodoubtyou are right. Wonderful! Wonderful! Do you carry the names of all the gun makers in the world in your memory?” Holmesdismissedthesubjectwithawave.</s>“NodoubtitisanAmericanshotgun,”WhiteMa- soncontinued. “Iseemtohavereadthatasawed-off shotgunisaweaponusedinsomepartsofAmerica.</s>Apart from the name upon the barrel, the idea had occurred to me. There is some evidence then, that thismanwhoenteredthehouseandkilleditsmaster wasanAmerican.” MacDonaldshookhishead. “Man,youaresurely travelling overfast,” said he. “I have heard no evi- denceyetthatanystrangerwaseverinthehouseat all.” “Theopenwindow,thebloodonthesill,thequeer card,themarksofbootsinthecorner,thegun!” “Nothingtherethatcouldnothavebeenarranged.</s>Mr. Douglas was an American, or had lived long in America. So had Mr. Barker. You don’t need to im- port an American from outside in order to account forAmericandoings.” “Ames,thebutler—” “Whatabouthim? Ishereliable?” “TenyearswithSirCharlesChandos—assolidas arock. HehasbeenwithDouglaseversincehetook theManorHousefiveyearsago. Hehasneverseena gunofthissortinthehouse.” “The gun was made to conceal. That’s why the barrels were sawed. It would fit into any box. How couldhesweartherewasnosuchguninthehouse?” “Well,anyhow,hehadneverseenone.” MacDonaldshookhisobstinateScotchhead. “I’m notconvincedyetthattherewaseveranyoneinthe house,”saidhe. “I’maskingyoutoconseedar”(his accentbecamemoreAberdonianashelosthimselfin hisargument)“I’maskingyoutoconseedarwhatitin- volvesifyousupposethatthisgunwaseverbroughtintothehouse,andthatallthesestrangethingswere done by a person from outside. Oh, man, it’s just inconceivable! It’scleanagainstcommonsense! Iput it to you, Mr. Holmes, judging it by what we have heard.” “Well,stateyourcase,Mr.Mac,”saidHolmesin hismostjudicialstyle.</s>“Themanisnotaburglar,supposingthatheever existed. Theringbusinessandthecardpointtopre- meditatedmurderforsomeprivatereason. Verygood.</s>Hereisamanwhoslipsintoahousewiththedelib- erate intention of committing murder. He knows, if heknowsanything,thathewillhaveadeeficultyin makinghisescape,asthehouseissurroundedwith water. What weapon would he choose? You would saythemostsilentintheworld. Thenhecouldhope whenthedeedwasdonetoslipquicklyfromthewin- dow,towadethemoat,andtogetawayathisleisure.</s>That’sunderstandable. Butisitunderstandablethat he should go out of his way to bring with him the mostnoisyweaponhecouldselect,knowingwellthat it will fetch every human being in the house to the spotasquickastheycanrun,andthatitisallodds thathewillbeseenbeforehecangetacrossthemoat? Isthatcredible,Mr.Holmes?” “Well, you put the case strongly,” my friend repliedthoughtfully. “Itcertainlyneedsagooddeal ofjustification. MayIask,Mr.WhiteMason,whether youexaminedthefarthersideofthemoatatonceto seeiftherewereanysignsofthemanhavingclimbed outfromthewater?” “Therewerenosigns,Mr.Holmes. Butitisastone ledge,andonecouldhardlyexpectthem.” “Notracksormarks?” “None.” “Ha! Wouldtherebeanyobjection,Mr.WhiteMa- son,toourgoingdowntothehouseatonce? There may possibly be some small point which might be suggestive.” “I was going to propose it, Mr. Holmes; but I thoughtitwelltoputyouintouchwithallthefacts before we go. I suppose if anything should strike you—” White Mason looked doubtfully at the ama- teur.</s>“I have worked with Mr. Holmes before,” said InspectorMacDonald. “Heplaysthegame.” “My own idea of the game, at any rate,” said Holmes, with a smile. “I go into a case to help the ends of justice and the work of the police. If I have everseparatedmyselffromtheofficialforce,itisbe- causetheyhavefirstseparatedthemselvesfromme.</s>I have no wish ever to score at their expense. At thesametime,Mr.WhiteMason,Iclaimtherightto workinmyownwayandgivemyresultsatmyown time—completeratherthaninstages.” “Iamsurewearehonouredbyyourpresenceand toshowyouallweknow,”saidWhiteMasoncordially.</s>“Comealong,Dr.Watson,andwhenthetimecomes we’llallhopeforaplaceinyourbook.” Wewalkeddownthequaintvillagestreetwitha rowofpollardedelmsoneachsideofit. Justbeyond were two ancient stone pillars, weather-stained and lichen-blotchedbearingupontheirsummitsashape- lesssomethingwhichhadoncebeentherampantlion ofCapusofBirlstone. Ashortwalkalongthewind- ingdrivewithsuchswardandoaksarounditasone onlyseesinruralEngland,thenasuddenturn,and thelong,lowJacobeanhouseofdingy,liver-coloured bricklaybeforeus,withanold-fashionedgardenof cut yews on each side of it. As we approached it, therewasthewoodendrawbridgeandthebeautiful broadmoatasstillandluminousasquicksilverinthe cold,wintersunshine.</s>Three centuries had flowed past the old Manor House, centuries of births and of homecomings, of country dances and of the meetings of fox hunters.</s>Strange that now in its old age this dark business shouldhavecastitsshadowuponthevenerablewalls! Andyetthosestrange,peakedroofsandquaint,over- hunggableswereafittingcoveringtogrimandterri- bleintrigue. AsIlookedatthedeep-setwindowsand the long sweep of the dull-coloured, water-lapped front,Ifeltthatnomorefittingscenecouldbesetfor suchatragedy.</s>“That’sthewindow,”saidWhiteMason,“thatone ontheimmediaterightofthedrawbridge. It’sopen justasitwasfoundlastnight.” “Itlooksrathernarrowforamantopass.” “Well,itwasn’tafatman,anyhow. Wedon’tneed yourdeductions,Mr.Holmes,totellusthat. Butyou orIcouldsqueezethroughallright.” Holmeswalkedtotheedgeofthemoatandlooked across. Then he examined the stone ledge and the grassborderbeyondit.</s>“I’ve had a good look, Mr. Holmes,” said White Mason. “Thereisnothingthere,nosignthatanyone haslanded—butwhyshouldheleaveanysign?” “Exactly. Why should he? Is the water always turbid?”“Generally about this colour. The stream brings downtheclay.” “Howdeepisit?” “Abouttwofeetateachsideandthreeinthemid- dle.” “So we can put aside all idea of the man having beendrownedincrossing.” “No,achildcouldnotbedrownedinit.” We walked across the drawbridge, and were ad- mitted by a quaint, gnarled, dried-up person, who wasthebutler,Ames. Thepooroldfellowwaswhite and quivering from the shock. The village sergeant, atall,formal,melancholyman,stillheldhisvigilin theroomofFate. Thedoctorhaddeparted.</s>“Anythingfresh,SergeantWilson?”askedWhite Mason.</s>“No,sir.” “Thenyoucangohome. You’vehadenough. We cansendforyouifwewantyou. Thebutlerhadbetter waitoutside. TellhimtowarnMr.CecilBarker,Mrs.</s>Douglas, and the housekeeper that we may want a wordwiththempresently. Now,gentlemen,perhaps youwillallowmetogiveyoutheviewsIhaveformed first,andthenyouwillbeabletoarriveatyourown.” Heimpressedme,thiscountryspecialist. Hehad a solid grip of fact and a cool, clear, common-sense brain,whichshouldtakehimsomewayinhisprofes- sion. Holmeslistenedtohimintently,withnosignof thatimpatiencewhichtheofficialexponenttoooften produced.</s>“Isitsuicide,orisitmurder—that’sourfirstques- tion,gentlemen,isitnot? Ifitweresuicide,thenwe havetobelievethatthismanbeganbytakingoffhis wedding ring and concealing it; that he then came downhereinhisdressinggown,trampledmudinto acornerbehindthecurtaininordertogivetheidea someone had waited for him, opened the window, putbloodonthe—” “Wecansurelydismissthat,”saidMacDonald.</s>“SoIthink. Suicideisoutofthequestion. Thena murderhasbeendone. Whatwehavetodetermine is,whetheritwasdonebysomeoneoutsideorinside thehouse.” “Well,let’sheartheargument.” “Thereareconsiderabledifficultiesbothways,and yetoneortheotheritmustbe. Wewillsupposefirst that some person or persons inside the house did the crime. They got this man down here at a time wheneverythingwasstillandyetnoonewasasleep.</s>Theythendidthedeedwiththequeerestandnoisi- est weapon in the world so as to tell everyone what hadhappened—aweaponthatwasneverseeninthe housebefore. Thatdoesnotseemaverylikelystart, doesit?” “No,itdoesnot.” “Well,then,everyoneisagreedthatafterthealarm wasgivenonlyaminuteatthemosthadpassedbe- forethewholehousehold—notMr.CecilBarkeralone, thoughheclaimstohavebeenthefirst,butAmesand allofthemwereonthespot. Doyoutellmethatin that time the guilty person managed to make foot- marksinthecorner,openthewindow,markthesill withblood,taketheweddingringoffthedeadman’s finger,andalltherestofit? It’simpossible!” “You put it very clearly,” said Holmes. “I am inclinedtoagreewithyou.” “Well,then,wearedrivenbacktothetheorythat it was done by someone from outside. We are still faced with some big difficulties; but anyhow they have ceased to be impossibilities. The man got into the house between four-thirty and six; that is to say, between dusk and the time when the bridge was raised. There had been some visitors, and the door was open; so there was nothing to prevent him. He may have been a common burglar, or he may have hadsomeprivategrudgeagainstMr.Douglas. Since Mr. Douglas has spent most of his life in America, and this shotgun seems to be an American weapon, it would seem that the private grudge is the more likely theory. He slipped into this room because it wasthefirsthecameto,andhehidbehindthecurtain.</s>Thereheremaineduntilpastelevenatnight. Atthat time Mr. Douglas entered the room. It was a short interview,iftherewereanyinterviewatall;forMrs.</s>Douglas declares that her husband had not left her morethanafewminuteswhensheheardtheshot.” “Thecandleshowsthat,”saidHolmes.</s>“Exactly. Thecandle,whichwasanewone,isnot burnedmorethanhalfaninch. Hemusthaveplaced iton thetablebefore hewasattacked; otherwise, of course,itwouldhavefallenwhenhefell. Thisshows that he was not attacked the instant that he entered theroom. WhenMr.Barkerarrivedthecandlewaslit andthelampwasout.” “That’sallclearenough.” “Well, now, we can reconstruct things on those lines. Mr. Douglas enters the room. He puts down thecandle. Amanappearsfrombehindthecurtain.</s>He is armed with this gun. He demands the wed- ding ring—Heaven only knows why, but so it must have been. Mr. Douglas gave it up. Then either incold blood or in the course of a struggle—Douglas mayhavegrippedthehammerthatwasfoundupon the mat—he shot Douglas in this horrible way. He dropped his gun and also it would seem this queer card—V. V. 341, whatever that may mean—and he madehisescapethroughthewindowandacrossthe moat at the very moment when Cecil Barker was discoveringthecrime. How’sthat,Mr.Holmes?” “Veryinteresting,butjustalittleunconvincing.” “Man,itwouldbeabsolutenonsenseifitwasn’t thatanythingelseisevenworse!”criedMacDonald.</s>“Somebody killed the man, and whoever it was I couldclearlyprovetoyouthatheshouldhavedone it some other way. What does he mean by allowing hisretreattobecutofflikethat? Whatdoeshemean byusingashotgunwhensilencewashisonechance ofescape? Come,Mr.Holmes,it’suptoyoutogive usalead,sinceyousayMr.WhiteMason’stheoryis unconvincing.” Holmeshadsatintentlyobservantduringthislong discussion,missingnowordthatwassaid,withhis keeneyesdartingtorightandtoleft,andhisforehead wrinkledwithspeculation.</s>“IshouldlikeafewmorefactsbeforeIgetsofaras atheory,Mr.Mac,”saidhe,kneelingdownbesidethe body. “Dear me! these injuries are really appalling.</s>Canwehavethebutlerinforamoment? ... Ames,I understandthatyouhaveoftenseenthisveryunusual mark—a branded triangle inside a circle—upon Mr.</s>Douglas’sforearm?” “Frequently,sir.” “You never heard any speculation as to what it meant?” “No,sir.” “It must have caused great pain when it was in- flicted. It is undoubtedly a burn. Now, I observe, Ames, that there is a small piece of plaster at the angleofMr.Douglas’sjaw. Didyouobservethatin life?” “Yes,sir,hecuthimselfinshavingyesterdaymorn- ing.” “Didyoueverknowhimtocuthimselfinshaving before?” “Notforaverylongtime,sir.” “Suggestive!” said Holmes. “It may, of course, be a mere coincidence, or it may point to some ner- vousness which would indicate that he had reason toapprehenddanger. Hadyounoticedanythingun- usualinhisconduct,yesterday,Ames?” “It struck me that he was a little restless and ex- cited,sir.” “Ha! Theattackmaynothavebeenentirelyunex- pected. Wedoseemtomakealittleprogress,dowe not? Perhaps you would rather do the questioning, Mr.Mac?” “No,Mr.Holmes,it’sinbetterhandsthanmine.” “Well,then,wewillpasstothiscard—V.V.341. It isroughcardboard. Haveyouanyofthesortinthe house?” “Idon’tthinkso.” Holmeswalkedacrosstothedeskanddabbeda littleinkfromeachbottleontotheblottingpaper. “It wasnotprintedinthisroom,”hesaid;“thisisblack ink and the other purplish. It was done by a thick pen,andthesearefine. No,itwasdoneelsewhere,I shouldsay. Canyoumakeanythingoftheinscription, Ames?” “No,sir,nothing.” “Whatdoyouthink,Mr.Mac?” “Itgivesmetheimpressionofasecretsocietyof some sort; the same with his badge upon the fore- arm.” “That’smyidea,too,”saidWhiteMason.</s>“Well, we can adopt it as a working hypothesis and then see how far our difficulties disappear. An agent from such a society makes his way into the house,waitsforMr.Douglas,blowshisheadnearly offwiththisweapon,andescapesbywadingthemoat, afterleavingacardbesidethedeadman,whichwill whenmentionedinthepapers,tellothermembersof the society that vengeance has been done. That all hangstogether. Butwhythisgun,ofallweapons?” “Exactly.” “Andwhythemissingring?” “Quiteso.” “And why no arrest? It’s past two now. I take it for granted that since dawn every constable within fortymileshasbeenlookingoutforawetstranger?” “Thatisso,Mr.Holmes.” “Well,unlesshehasaburrowclosebyorachange ofclothesready,theycanhardlymisshim. Andyet theyhavemissedhimuptonow!”Holmeshadgone tothewindowandwasexaminingwithhislensthe blood mark on the sill. “It is clearly the tread of a shoe. Itisremarkablybroad;asplay-foot,onewould say. Curious, because, so far as one can trace any footmarkinthismud-stainedcorner,onewouldsayit wasamoreshapelysole. However,theyarecertainly veryindistinct. What’sthisunderthesidetable?” “Mr.Douglas’sdumb-bells,”saidAmes.“Dumb-bell—there’s only one. Where’s the other?” “Idon’tknow,Mr.Holmes. Theremayhavebeen onlyone. Ihavenotnoticedthemformonths.” “Onedumb-bell—”Holmessaidseriously;buthis remarks were interrupted by a sharp knock at the door.</s>Atall,sunburned,capable-looking,clean-shaved man looked in at us. I had no difficulty in guessing thatitwastheCecilBarkerofwhomIhadheard. His masterful eyes travelled quickly with a questioning glancefromfacetoface.</s>“Sorry to interrupt your consultation,” said he, “butyoushouldhearthelatestnews.” “Anarrest?” “Nosuchluck. Butthey’vefoundhisbicycle. The fellowlefthisbicyclebehindhim. Comeandhavea look. Itiswithinahundredyardsofthehalldoor.” CHAP he eople T P O “Haveyouseenallyouwantofthestudy?”asked WhiteMasonaswereenteredthehouse.</s>“For the time,” said the inspector, and Holmes nodded.</s>“Thenperhapsyouwouldnowliketoheartheev- idenceofsomeofthepeopleinthehouse. Wecould usethedining-room,Ames. Pleasecomeyourselffirst andtelluswhatyouknow.” Thebutler’saccountwasasimpleandaclearone, andhegaveaconvincingimpressionofsincerity. He had been engaged five years before, when Douglas firstcametoBirlstone. HeunderstoodthatMr.Dou- glaswasarichgentlemanwhohadmadehismoney inAmerica. Hehadbeenakindandconsiderateem- ployer—notquitewhatAmeswasusedto,perhaps; butonecan’thaveeverything. Heneversawanysigns ofapprehensioninMr.Douglas: onthecontrary,he was the most fearless man he had ever known. He orderedthedrawbridgetobepulledupeverynight because it was the ancient custom of the old house, andhelikedtokeeptheoldwaysup.</s>Wefoundthreeorfourgroomsandidlersstand- inginthedriveinspectingabicyclewhichhadbeen drawnoutfromaclumpofevergreensinwhichithad beenconcealed. ItwasawellusedRudge-Whitworth, splashedasfromaconsiderablejourney. Therewasa saddlebagwithspannerandoilcan,butnoclueasto theowner.</s>“Itwouldbeagrandhelptothepolice,”saidthe inspector,“ifthesethingswerenumberedandregis- tered. Butwemustbethankfulforwhatwe’vegot. If wecan’tfindwherehewentto,atleastwearelikely togetwherehecamefrom. Butwhatinthenameof allthatiswonderfulmadethefellowleaveitbehind? And how in the world has he got away without it? Wedon’tseemtogetagleamoflightinthecase,Mr.</s>Holmes.” “Don’twe?”myfriendansweredthoughtfully. “I wonder!” PTER V.</s>f the rama O D Mr. Douglas seldom went to London or left the village;butonthedaybeforethecrimehehadbeen shopping at Tunbridge Wells. He (Ames) had ob- servedsomerestlessnessandexcitementonthepart ofMr.Douglasthatday;forhehadseemedimpatient andirritable,whichwasunusualwithhim. Hehad not gone to bed that night; but was in the pantry at thebackofthehouse,puttingawaythesilver,when he heard the bell ring violently. He heard no shot; but it was hardly possible he would, as the pantry andkitchenswereattheverybackofthehouseand there were several closed doors and a long passage between. Thehousekeeperhadcomeoutofherroom, attractedbytheviolentringingofthebell. Theyhad gonetothefrontofthehousetogether.</s>As they reached the bottom of the stair he had seenMrs.Douglascomingdownit. No,shewasnot hurrying;itdidnotseemtohimthatshewasparticu- larlyagitated. Justasshereachedthebottomofthe stairMr.Barkerhadrushedoutofthestudy. Hehad stoppedMrs.Douglasandbeggedhertogoback.</s>“ForGod’ssake,gobacktoyourroom!”hecried.“Poor Jack is dead! You can do nothing. For God’s sake,goback!” AftersomepersuasionuponthestairsMrs.Dou- glas had gone back. She did not scream. She made nooutcrywhatever. Mrs.Allen,thehousekeeper,had taken her upstairs and stayed with her in the bed- room. AmesandMr.Barkerhadthenreturnedtothe study,wheretheyhadfoundeverythingexactlyasthe policehadseenit. Thecandlewasnotlitatthattime; but the lamp was burning. They had looked out of thewindow;butthenightwasverydarkandnothing could be seen or heard. They had then rushed out into the hall, where Ames had turned the windlass whichloweredthedrawbridge. Mr.Barkerhadthen hurriedofftogetthepolice.</s>Such, in its essentials, was the evidence of the butler.</s>TheaccountofMrs.Allen,thehousekeeper,was, sofarasitwent,acorroborationofthatofherfellow servant. Thehousekeeper’sroomwasrathernearer to the front of the house than the pantry in which Ameshadbeenworking. Shewaspreparingtogoto bed when the loud ringing of the bell had attracted her attention. She was a little hard of hearing. Per- haps that was why she had not heard the shot; but in any case the study was a long way off. She re- memberedhearingsomesoundwhichsheimagined tobetheslammingofadoor. Thatwasagooddeal earlier—halfanhouratleastbeforetheringingofthe bell. WhenMr.Amesrantothefrontshewentwith him. ShesawMr.Barker,verypaleandexcited,come outofthestudy. HeinterceptedMrs.Douglas,who wascomingdownthestairs. Heentreatedhertogo back,andsheansweredhim,butwhatshesaidcould notbeheard.</s>“Takeherup! Staywithher!”hehadsaidtoMrs.</s>Allen.</s>Shehadthereforetakenhertothebedroom,and endeavouredtosootheher. Shewasgreatlyexcited, tremblingallover, butmadenootherattempttogo downstairs. She just sat in her dressing gown by her bedroom fire, with her head sunk in her hands.</s>Mrs. Allen stayed with her most of the night. As to theotherservants,theyhadallgonetobed,andthe alarmdidnotreachthemuntiljustbeforethepolice arrived. Theysleptattheextremebackofthehouse, andcouldnotpossiblyhaveheardanything.</s>Sofarthehousekeepercouldaddnothingoncross- examination save lamentations and expressions of amazement.</s>Cecil Barker succeeded Mrs. Allen as a witness.</s>Astotheoccurrencesofthenightbefore,hehadvery little to add to what he had already told the police.</s>Personally,hewasconvincedthatthemurdererhad escapedbythewindow. Thebloodstainwasconclu- sive, in his opinion, on that point. Besides, as the bridge was up, there was no other possible way of escaping. Hecouldnotexplainwhathadbecomeof the assassin or why he had not taken his bicycle, if itwereindeedhis. Hecouldnotpossiblyhavebeen drowned in the moat, which was at no place more thanthreefeetdeep.</s>In his own mind he had a very definite theory aboutthemurder. Douglaswasareticentman,and thereweresomechaptersinhislifeofwhichhenever spoke. HehademigratedtoAmericawhenhewasa veryyoungman. Hehadprosperedwell,andBarker had first met him in California, where they had be- comepartnersinasuccessfulminingclaimataplace calledBenitoCanyon. Theyhaddoneverywell;but DouglashadsuddenlysoldoutandstartedforEng- land. He was a widower at that time. Barker had afterwards realized his money and come to live in London. Thustheyhadrenewedtheirfriendship.</s>Douglashadgivenhimtheimpressionthatsome dangerwashangingoverhishead,andhehadalways looked upon his sudden departure from California, andalsohisrentingahouseinsoquietaplaceinEng- land,asbeingconnectedwiththisperil. Heimagined that some secret society, some implacable organiza- tion,wasonDouglas’strack,whichwouldneverrest until it killed him. Some remarks of his had given himthisidea;thoughhehadnevertoldhimwhatthe society was, nor how he had come to offend it. He couldonlysupposethatthelegendupontheplacard hadsomereferencetothissecretsociety.</s>“HowlongwereyouwithDouglasinCalifornia?” askedInspectorMacDonald.</s>“Fiveyearsaltogether.” “Hewasabachelor,yousay?” “Awidower.” “Have you ever heard where his first wife came from?” “No, I remember his saying that she was of Ger- manextraction,andIhaveseenherportrait. Shewas averybeautifulwoman. Shediedoftyphoidtheyear beforeImethim.” “Youdon’tassociatehispastwithanyparticular partofAmerica?” “IhaveheardhimtalkofChicago. Heknewthat citywellandhadworkedthere. Ihaveheardhimtalkofthecoalandirondistricts. Hehadtravelledagood dealinhistime.” “Washeapolitician? Hadthissecretsocietytodo withpolitics?” “No,hecarednothingaboutpolitics.” “Youhavenoreasontothinkitwascriminal?” “Onthecontrary,Inevermetastraightermanin mylife.” “WasthereanythingcuriousabouthislifeinCali- fornia?” “Helikedbesttostayandtoworkatourclaimin themountains. Hewouldnevergowhereothermen were if he could help it. That’s why I first thought that someone was after him. Then when he left so suddenly for Europe I made sure that it was so. I believethathehadawarningofsomesort. Withina weekofhisleavinghalfadozenmenwereinquiring forhim.” “Whatsortofmen?” “Well, they were a mighty hard-looking crowd.</s>Theycameuptotheclaimandwantedtoknowwhere hewas. ItoldthemthathewasgonetoEuropeand that I did not know where to find him. They meant himnogood—itwaseasytoseethat.” “WerethesemenAmericans—Californians?” “Well,Idon’tknowaboutCalifornians. Theywere Americans, all right. But they were not miners. I don’tknowwhattheywere,andwasverygladtosee theirbacks.” “Thatwassixyearsago?” “Nearerseven.” “And then you were together five years in Cali- fornia,sothatthisbusinessdatesbacknotlessthan elevenyearsattheleast?” “Thatisso.” “Itmustbeaveryseriousfeudthatwouldbekept upwithsuchearnestnessforaslongasthat. Itwould benolightthingthatwouldgiverisetoit.” “Ithinkitshadowedhiswholelife. Itwasnever quiteoutofhismind.” “Butifamanhadadangerhangingoverhim,and knewwhatitwas,don’tyouthinkhewouldturnto thepoliceforprotection?” “Maybeitwassomedangerthathecouldnotbe protectedagainst. There’sonethingyoushouldknow.</s>Healwayswentaboutarmed. Hisrevolverwasnever out of his pocket. But, by bad luck, he was in his dressing gown and had left it in the bedroom last night. Oncethebridgewasup,Iguesshethoughthe wassafe.” “I should like these dates a little clearer,” said MacDonald. “It is quite six years since Douglas left California. Youfollowedhimnextyear,didyounot?” “Thatisso.” “And he had been married five years. You must havereturnedaboutthetimeofhismarriage.” “Aboutamonthbefore. Iwashisbestman.” “Did you know Mrs. Douglas before her mar- riage?” “No,Ididnot. IhadbeenawayfromEnglandfor tenyears.” “Butyouhaveseenagooddealofhersince.” Barker looked sternly at the detective. “I have seen a good deal of him since,” he answered. “If I have seen her, it is because you cannot visit a man withoutknowinghiswife. Ifyouimaginethereisany connection—” “I imagine nothing, Mr. Barker. I am bound to make every inquiry which can bear upon the case.</s>ButImeannooffense.” “Someinquiriesareoffensive,”Barkeranswered angrily.</s>“It’s only the facts that we want. It is in your interest and everyone’s interest that they should be cleared up. Did Mr. Douglas entirely approve your friendshipwithhiswife?” Barker grew paler, and his great, strong hands were clasped convulsively together. “You have no righttoasksuchquestions!”hecried. “Whathasthis todowiththematteryouareinvestigating?” “Imustrepeatthequestion.” “Well,Irefusetoanswer.” “Youcanrefusetoanswer;butyoumustbeaware thatyourrefusalisinitselfananswer,foryouwould notrefuseifyouhadnotsomethingtoconceal.” Barkerstoodforamomentwithhisfacesetgrimly andhisstrongblackeyebrowsdrawnlowinintense thought. Then he looked up with a smile. “Well, I guessyougentlemenareonlydoingyourclearduty after all, and I have no right to stand in the way of it. I’d only ask you not to worry Mrs. Douglas over thismatter;forshehasenoughuponherjustnow. I maytellyouthatpoorDouglashadjustonefaultin the world, and that was his jealousy. He was fond ofme—nomancouldbefonderofafriend. Andhe wasdevotedtohiswife. Helovedmetocomehere, andwasforeversendingforme. Andyetifhiswife andItalkedtogetherorthereseemedanysympathy between us, a kind of wave of jealousy would passoverhim,andhewouldbeoffthehandleandsaying thewildestthingsinamoment. MorethanonceI’ve swornoffcomingforthatreason,andthenhewould write me such penitent, imploring letters that I just had to. But you can take it from me, gentlemen, if it was my last word, that no man ever had a more loving, faithful wife—and I can say also no friend couldbemoreloyalthanI!” It was spoken with fervour and feeling, and yet InspectorMacDonaldcouldnotdismissthesubject.</s>“You are aware,” said he, “that the dead man’s weddingringhasbeentakenfromhisfinger?” “Soitappears,”saidBarker.</s>“Whatdoyoumeanby‘appears’? Youknowitas afact.” Themanseemedconfusedandundecided. “When I said ‘appears’ I meant that it was conceivable that hehadhimselftakenoffthering.” “Themerefactthattheringshouldbeabsent,who- evermayhaveremovedit,wouldsuggesttoanyone’s mind,woulditnot,thatthemarriageandthetragedy wereconnected?” Barkershruggedhisbroadshoulders. “Ican’tpro- fesstosaywhatitmeans.”heanswered. “Butifyou mean to hint that it could reflect in any way upon this lady’s honour”—his eyes blazed for an instant, and then with an evident effort he got a grip upon hisownemotions—“well,youareonthewrongtrack, that’sall.” “Idon’tknowthatI’veanythingelsetoaskyouat present,”saidMacDonald,coldly.</s>“Therewasonesmallpoint,”remarkedSherlock Holmes. “Whenyouenteredtheroomtherewasonly acandlelightedonthetable,wastherenot?” “Yes,thatwasso.” “By its light you saw that some terrible incident hadoccurred?” “Exactly.” “Youatoncerangforhelp?” “Yes.” “Anditarrivedveryspeedily?” “Withinaminuteorso.” “And yet when they arrived they found that the candle was out and that the lamp had been lighted.</s>Thatseemsveryremarkable.” AgainBarkershowedsomesignsofindecision. “I don’t see that it was remarkable, Mr. Holmes,” he answeredafterapause. “Thecandlethrewaverybad light. My first thought was to get a better one. The lampwasonthetable;soIlitit.” “Andblewoutthecandle?” “Exactly.” Holmes asked no further question, and Barker, with a deliberate look from one to the other of us, whichhad,asitseemedtome,somethingofdefiance init,turnedandlefttheroom.</s>Inspector MacDonald had sent up a note to the effect that he would wait upon Mrs. Douglas in her room;butshehadrepliedthatshewouldmeetusin thediningroom. Sheenterednow,atallandbeauti- fulwomanofthirty,reservedandself-possessedtoa remarkabledegree,verydifferentfromthetragicand distractedfigureIhadpictured. Itistruethatherface waspaleanddrawn,likethatofonewhohasendured agreatshock;buthermannerwascomposed,andthe finelymouldedhandwhichsherestedupontheedge of the table was as steady as my own. Her sad, ap- pealingeyestravelledfromonetotheotherofuswith acuriouslyinquisitiveexpression. Thatquestioning gazetransformeditselfsuddenlyintoabruptspeech.</s>“Haveyoufoundanythingoutyet?”sheasked.</s>Was it my imagination that there was an under- toneoffearratherthanofhopeinthequestion? “We have taken every possible step, Mrs. Dou- glas,”saidtheinspector. “Youmayrestassuredthat nothingwillbeneglected.” “Sparenomoney,”shesaidinadead,eventone.</s>“It is my desire that every possible effort should be made.” “Perhaps you can tell us something which may throwsomelightuponthematter.” “Ifearnot;butallIknowisatyourservice.” “We have heard from Mr. Cecil Barker that you didnotactuallysee—thatyouwereneverintheroom wherethetragedyoccurred?” “No, he turned me back upon the stairs. He beggedmetoreturntomyroom.” “Quite so. You had heard the shot, and you had atoncecomedown.” “I put on my dressing gown and then came down.” “Howlongwasitafterhearingtheshotthatyou werestoppedonthestairbyMr.Barker?” “It may have been a couple of minutes. It is so hardtoreckontimeatsuchamoment. Heimplored me not to go on. He assured me that I could do nothing. Then Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, led me upstairsagain. Itwasalllikesomedreadfuldream.”“Canyougiveusanyideahowlongyourhusband hadbeendownstairsbeforeyouheardtheshot?” “No, I cannot say. He went from his dressing room,andIdidnothearhimgo. Hedidtheroundof the house every night, for he was nervous of fire. It istheonlythingthatIhaveeverknownhimnervous of.” “That is just the point which I want to come to, Mrs.Douglas. Youhaveknownyourhusbandonlyin England,haveyounot?” “Yes,wehavebeenmarriedfiveyears.” “Have you heard him speak of anything which occurred in America and might bring some danger uponhim?” Mrs. Douglas thought earnestly before she an- swered. “Yes.”shesaidatlast,“Ihavealwaysfeltthat there was a danger hanging over him. He refused todiscussitwithme. Itwasnotfromwantofconfi- denceinme—therewasthemostcompleteloveand confidence between us—but it was out of his desire tokeepallalarmawayfromme. HethoughtIshould broodoveritifIknewall,andsohewassilent.” “Howdidyouknowit,then?” Mrs. Douglas’s face lit with a quick smile. “Can a husband ever carry about a secret all his life and a woman who loves him have no suspicion of it? I knewitbyhisrefusaltotalkaboutsomeepisodesin hisAmericanlife. Iknewitbycertainprecautionshe took. Iknewitbycertainwordsheletfall. Iknewit bythewayhelookedatunexpectedstrangers. Iwas perfectlycertainthathehadsomepowerfulenemies, that he believed they were on his track, and that he wasalwaysonhisguardagainstthem. Iwassosure ofitthatforyearsIhavebeenterrifiedifeverhecame homelaterthanwasexpected.” “Might I ask,” asked Holmes, “what the words werewhichattractedyourattention?” “The Valley of Fear,” the lady answered. “That was an expression he has used when I questioned him. ‘IhavebeenintheValleyofFear. Iamnotout of it yet.’—‘Are we never to get out of the Valley of Fear?’ IhaveaskedhimwhenIhaveseenhimmore seriousthanusual. ‘SometimesIthinkthatwenever shall,’hehasanswered.” “SurelyyouaskedhimwhathemeantbytheVal- leyofFear?” “Idid;buthisfacewouldbecomeverygraveand hewouldshakehishead. ‘Itisbadenoughthatone ofusshouldhavebeeninitsshadow,’hesaid. ‘Please God it shall never fall upon you!’ It was some real valleyinwhichhehadlivedandinwhichsomething terriblehadoccurredtohim,ofthatIamcertain;but Icantellyounomore.” “Andhenevermentionedanynames?” “Yes, he was delirious with fever once when he had his hunting accident three years ago. Then I re- memberthattherewasanamethatcamecontinually tohislips. Hespokeitwithangerandasortofhor- ror. McGinty was the name—Bodymaster McGinty.</s>I asked him when he recovered who Bodymaster McGinty was, and whose body he was master of.</s>‘Never of mine, thank God!’ he answered with a laugh, and that was all I could get from him. But there is a connection between Bodymaster McGinty andtheValleyofFear.” “There is one other point,” said Inspector Mac- Donald. “YoumetMr.Douglasinaboardinghouse inLondon,didyounot,andbecameengagedtohim there? Was there any romance, anything secret or mysterious,aboutthewedding?” “There was romance. There is always romance.</s>Therewasnothingmysterious.” “Hehadnorival?” “No,Iwasquitefree.” “Youhaveheard,nodoubt,thathisweddingring has been taken. Does that suggest anything to you? Supposethatsomeenemyofhisoldlifehadtracked himdownandcommittedthiscrime,whatpossible reasoncouldhehavefortakinghisweddingring?” ForaninstantIcouldhaveswornthatthefaintest shadowofasmileflickeredoverthewoman’slips.</s>“Ireallycannottell,”sheanswered. “Itiscertainly amostextraordinarything.” “Well, we will not detain you any longer, and we are sorry to have put you to this trouble at such a time,” said the inspector. “There are some other points, no doubt; but we can refer to you as they arise.” Sherose,andIwasagainconsciousofthatquick, questioningglancewithwhichshehadjustsurveyed us. “What impression has my evidence made upon you?”Thequestionmightaswellhavebeenspoken.</s>Then,withabow,shesweptfromtheroom.</s>“She’s a beautiful woman—a very beautiful woman,”saidMacDonaldthoughtfully,afterthedoor hadclosedbehindher. “ThismanBarkerhascertainly beendownhereagooddeal. Heisamanwhomight be attractive to a woman. He admits that the dead man was jealous, and maybe he knew best himself what cause he had for jealousy. Then there’s that weddingring. Youcan’tgetpastthat. Themanwhotearsaweddingringoffadeadman’s—Whatdoyou saytoit,Mr.Holmes?” Myfriendhadsatwithhisheaduponhishands, sunkinthedeepestthought. Nowheroseandrang the bell. “Ames,” he said, when the butler entered, “whereisMr.CecilBarkernow?” “I’llsee,sir.” HecamebackinamomenttosaythatBarkerwas inthegarden.</s>“Canyouremember,Ames,whatMr.Barkerhad on his feet last night when you joined him in the study?” “Yes,Mr.Holmes. Hehadapairofbedroomslip- pers. I brought him his boots when he went for the police.” “Wherearetheslippersnow?” “Theyarestillunderthechairinthehall.” “Verygood,Ames. Itis,ofcourse,importantfor us to know which tracks may be Mr. Barker’s and whichfromoutside.” “Yes,sir. ImaysaythatInoticedthattheslippers werestainedwithblood—soindeedweremyown.” “Thatisnaturalenough,consideringthecondition of the room. Very good, Ames. We will ring if we wantyou.” CHAP awn A D The three detectives had many matters of detail intowhichtoinquire;soIreturnedalonetoourmod- estquartersatthevillageinn. ButbeforedoingsoI took a stroll in the curious old-world garden which flanked the house. Rows of very ancient yew trees cutintostrangedesignsgirdeditround. Insidewas abeautifulstretchoflawnwithanoldsundialinthe middle,thewholeeffectsosoothingandrestfulthat itwaswelcometomysomewhatjanglednerves.</s>Inthatdeeplypeacefulatmosphereonecouldfor- get, or remember only as some fantastic nightmare, thatdarkenedstudywiththesprawling,bloodstained figureonthefloor. Andyet,asIstrolledrounditand triedtosteepmysoulinitsgentlebalm,astrangeinci- Afewminuteslaterwewereinthestudy. Holmes had brought with him the carpet slippers from the hall. As Ames had observed, the soles of both were darkwithblood.</s>“Strange!”murmuredHolmes,ashestoodinthe light of the window and examined them minutely.</s>“Verystrangeindeed!” Stoopingwithoneofhisquickfelinepounces,he placed the slipper upon the blood mark on the sill.</s>It exactly corresponded. He smiled in silence at his colleagues.</s>The inspector was transfigured with excitement.</s>Hisnativeaccentrattledlikeastickuponrailings.</s>“Man,”hecried,“there’snotadoubtofit! Barker hasjustmarkedthewindowhimself. It’sagooddeal broader than any bootmark. I mind that you said it was a splay-foot, and here’s the explanation. But what’sthegame,Mr.Holmes—what’sthegame?” “Ay, what’s the game?” my friend repeated thoughtfully.</s>WhiteMasonchuckledandrubbedhisfathands togetherinhisprofessionalsatisfaction. “Isaiditwas asnorter!”hecried. “Andarealsnorteritis!” TER VI.</s>ng ight L dentoccurred,whichbroughtmebacktothetragedy andleftasinisterimpressioninmymind.</s>Ihavesaidthatadecorationofyewtreescircled thegarden. Attheendfarthestfromthehousethey thickenedintoacontinuoushedge. Ontheotherside ofthishedge,concealedfromtheeyesofanyoneap- proachingfromthedirectionofthehouse,therewas a stone seat. As I approached the spot I was aware of voices, some remark in the deep tones of a man, answeredbyalittlerippleoffemininelaughter.</s>AninstantlaterIhadcomeroundtheendofthe hedge and my eyes lit upon Mrs. Douglas and the manBarkerbeforetheywereawareofmypresence.</s>Herappearancegavemeashock. Inthedining-roomshehadbeendemureanddiscreet. Nowallpretense of grief had passed away from her. Her eyes shone withthejoyofliving,andherfacestillquiveredwith amusement at some remark of her companion. He sat forward, his hands clasped and his forearms on his knees, with an answering smile upon his bold, handsome face. In an instant—but it was just one instant too late—they resumed their solemn masks asmyfigurecameintoview. Ahurriedwordortwo passedbetweenthem,andthenBarkerroseandcame towardsme.</s>“Excuseme,sir,”saidhe,“butamIaddressingDr.</s>Watson?” Ibowedwithacoldnesswhichshowed,Idaresay, veryplainlytheimpressionwhichhadbeenproduced uponmymind.</s>“We thought that it was probably you, as your friendshipwithMr.SherlockHolmesissowellknown.</s>Would you mind coming over and speaking to Mrs.</s>Douglasforoneinstant?” I followed him with a dour face. Very clearly I could see in my mind’s eye that shattered figure on the floor. Here within a few hours of the tragedy werehiswifeandhisnearestfriendlaughingtogether behind a bush in the garden which had been his. I greetedtheladywithreserve. Ihadgrievedwithher grief in the dining-room. Now I met her appealing gazewithanunresponsiveeye.</s>“I fear that you think me callous and hard- hearted,”saidshe.</s>I shrugged my shoulders. “It is no business of mine,”saidI.</s>“Perhapssomedayyouwilldomejustice. Ifyou onlyrealized—” “ThereisnoneedwhyDr.Watsonshouldrealize,” saidBarkerquickly. “Ashehashimselfsaid,itisno possiblebusinessofhis.” “Exactly,”saidI,“andsoIwillbegleavetoresume mywalk.” “One moment, Dr. Watson,”cried the woman in a pleading voice. “There is one question which you cananswerwithmoreauthoritythananyoneelsein theworld,anditmaymakeaverygreatdifferenceto me. YouknowMr.Holmesandhisrelationswiththe policebetterthananyoneelsecan. Supposingthata matterwerebroughtconfidentiallytohisknowledge, isitabsolutelynecessarythatheshouldpassitonto thedetectives?” “Yes,that’sit,”saidBarkereagerly. “Isheonhis ownorisheentirelyinwiththem?” “I really don’t know that I should be justified in discussingsuchapoint.” “I beg—I implore that you will, Dr. Watson! I assureyouthatyouwillbehelpingus—helpingme greatlyifyouwillguideusonthatpoint.” Therewassucharingofsincerityinthewoman’s voicethatfortheinstantIforgotallaboutherlevity andwasmovedonlytodoherwill.</s>“Mr. Holmes is an independent investigator,” I said. “He is his own master, and would act as his ownjudgmentdirected. Atthesametime,hewould naturallyfeelloyaltytowardstheofficialswhowere working on the same case, and he would not con- cealfromthemanythingwhichwouldhelpthemin bringing a criminal to justice. Beyond this I can say nothing,andIwouldreferyoutoMr.Holmeshimself ifyouwantedfullerinformation.” SosayingIraisedmyhatandwentuponmyway, leavingthemstillseatedbehindthatconcealinghedge.</s>IlookedbackasIroundedthefarendofit,andsaw that they were still talking very earnestly together, and,astheyweregazingafterme,itwasclearthatit wasourinterviewthatwasthesubjectoftheirdebate.</s>“I wish none of their confidences,” said Holmes, whenIreportedtohimwhathadoccurred. Hehad spentthewholeafternoonattheManorHouseincon- sultationwithhistwocolleagues,andreturnedabout five with a ravenous appetite for a high tea which I had ordered for him. “No confidences, Watson; for theyaremightyawkwardifitcomestoanarrestfor conspiracyandmurder.” “Youthinkitwillcometothat?” He was in his most cheerful and debonair hu- mour. “MydearWatson,whenIhaveexterminated that fourth egg I shall be ready to put you in touch with the whole situation. I don’t say that we have fathomed it—far from it—but when we have traced themissingdumb-bell—” “Thedumb-bell!” “Dearme,Watson,isitpossiblethatyouhavenot penetratedthefactthatthecasehangsuponthemiss- ingdumb-bell? Well,well,youneednotbedowncast; forbetweenourselvesIdon’tthinkthateitherInspec- torMacortheexcellentlocalpractitionerhasgrasped the overwhelming importance of this incident. One dumb-bell, Watson! Consider an athlete with one dumb-bell! Picture to yourself the unilateral devel- opment, the imminent danger of a spinal curvature.</s>Shocking,Watson,shocking!” He sat with his mouth full of toast and his eyes sparklingwithmischief,watchingmyintellectualen- tanglement. Themeresightofhisexcellentappetitewasanassuranceofsuccess,forIhadveryclearrec- ollections of days and nights without a thought of food,whenhisbaffledmindhadchafedbeforesome problemwhilehisthin,eagerfeaturesbecamemore attenuated with the asceticism of complete mental concentration. Finally he lit his pipe, and sitting in theinglenookoftheoldvillageinnhetalkedslowly and at random about his case, rather as one who thinks aloud than as one who makes a considered statement.</s>“Alie,Watson—agreat,big,thumping,obtrusive, uncompromising lie—that’s what meets us on the threshold! There is our starting point. The whole story told by Barker is a lie. But Barker’s story is corroboratedbyMrs.Douglas. Thereforesheislying also. They are both lying, and in a conspiracy. So nowwehavetheclearproblem. Whyaretheylying, andwhatisthetruthwhichtheyaretryingsohard to conceal? Let us try, Watson, you and I, if we can getbehindthelieandreconstructthetruth.</s>“HowdoIknowthattheyarelying? Becauseitis aclumsyfabricationwhichsimplycouldnotbetrue.</s>Consider! According to the story given to us, the assassinhadlessthanaminuteafterthemurderhad been committed to take that ring, which was under anotherring,fromthedeadman’sfinger,toreplace theotherring—athingwhichhewouldsurelynever havedone—andtoputthatsingularcardbesidehis victim. Isaythatthiswasobviouslyimpossible.</s>“Youmayargue—butIhavetoomuchrespectfor your judgment, Watson, to think that you will do so—thattheringmayhavebeentakenbeforetheman waskilled. Thefactthatthecandlehadbeenlitonly a short time shows that there had been no lengthy interview. Was Douglas, from what we hear of his fearlesscharacter,amanwhowouldbelikelytogive uphisweddingringatsuchshortnotice,orcouldwe conceive of his giving it up at all? No, no, Watson, the assassin was alone with the dead man for some timewiththelamplit. OfthatIhavenodoubtatall.</s>“But the gunshot was apparently the cause of death. Thereforetheshotmusthavebeenfiredsome time earlier than we are told. But there could be no mistake about such a matter as that. We are in the presence,therefore,ofadeliberateconspiracyupon thepartofthetwopeoplewhoheardthegunshot—of themanBarkerandofthewomanDouglas. Whenon thetopofthisIamabletoshowthatthebloodmark on the windowsill was deliberately placed there by Barker,inordertogiveafalsecluetothepolice,you willadmitthatthecasegrowsdarkagainsthim.</s>“Nowwehavetoaskourselvesatwhathourthe murder actually did occur. Up to half-past ten the servantsweremovingaboutthehouse;soitwascer- tainly not before that time. At a quarter to eleven they had all gone to their rooms with the exception of Ames, who was inthe pantry. I have been trying someexperimentsafteryouleftusthisafternoon,and I find that no noise which MacDonald can make in thestudycanpenetratetomeinthepantrywhenthe doorsareallshut.</s>“Itisotherwise,however,fromthehousekeeper’s room. Itisnotsofardownthecorridor,andfromitI couldvaguelyhearavoicewhenitwasveryloudly raised. Thesoundfromashotgunistosomeextent muffled when the discharge is at very close range, asitundoubtedlywasinthisinstance. Itwouldnot be very loud, and yet in the silence of the night it should have easily penetrated to Mrs. Allen’s room.</s>She is, as she has told us, somewhat deaf; but none the less she mentioned in her evidence that she did hear something like a door slamming half an hour beforethealarmwasgiven. Halfanhourbeforethe alarmwasgivenwouldbeaquartertoeleven. Ihave no doubt that what she heard was the report of the gun,andthatthiswastherealinstantofthemurder.</s>“If this is so, we have now to determine what Barker and Mrs. Douglas, presuming that they are nottheactualmurderers,couldhavebeendoingfrom quartertoeleven,whenthesoundoftheshotbrought themdown,untilquarterpasteleven,whentheyrang thebellandsummonedtheservants. Whatwerethey doing,andwhydidtheynotinstantlygivethealarm? Thatisthequestionwhichfacesus,andwhenithas beenansweredweshallsurelyhavegonesomeway tosolveourproblem.” “Iamconvincedmyself,”saidI,“thatthereisan understandingbetweenthosetwopeople. Shemust be a heartless creature to sit laughing at some jest withinafewhoursofherhusband’smurder.” “Exactly. Shedoesnotshineasawifeeveninher own account of what occurred. I am not a whole- souledadmirerofwomankind,asyouareaware,Wat- son,butmyexperienceoflifehastaughtmethatthere arefewwives,havinganyregardfortheirhusbands, whowouldletanyman’sspokenwordstandbetween them and that husband’s dead body. Should I ever marry,Watson,Ishouldhopetoinspiremywifewith some feeling which would prevent her from being walked off by a housekeeper when my corpse was lying within a few yards of her. It was badly stage- managed; for even the rawest investigators must be struckbytheabsenceoftheusualfeminineululation.If there had been nothing else, this incident alone would have suggested a prearranged conspiracy to mymind.” “You think then, definitely, that Barker and Mrs.</s>Douglasareguiltyofthemurder?” “Thereisanappallingdirectnessaboutyourques- tions,Watson,”saidHolmes,shakinghispipeatme.</s>“Theycomeatmelikebullets. IfyouputitthatMrs.</s>DouglasandBarkerknowthetruthaboutthemurder, andareconspiringtoconcealit,thenIcangiveyou awhole-souledanswer. Iamsuretheydo. Butyour moredeadlypropositionisnotsoclear. Letusfora momentconsiderthedifficultieswhichstandinthe way.</s>“We will suppose that this couple are united by the bonds of a guilty love, and that they have deter- minedtogetridofthemanwhostandsbetweenthem.</s>Itisalargesupposition; fordiscreetinquiryamong servantsandothershasfailedtocorroborateitinany way. Onthecontrary,thereisagooddealofevidence thattheDouglaseswereveryattachedtoeachother.” “That,Iamsure,cannothetrue.”saidI,thinking ofthebeautifulsmilingfaceinthegarden.</s>“Wellatleasttheygavethatimpression. However, we will suppose that they are an extraordinarily as- tute couple, who deceive everyone upon this point, andconspiretomurderthehusband. Hehappensto beamanoverwhoseheadsomedangerhangs—” “Wehaveonlytheirwordforthat.” Holmes looked thoughtful. “I see, Watson. You aresketchingoutatheorybywhicheverythingthey say from the beginning is false. According to your idea, there was never any hidden menace, or secret society, or Valley of Fear, or Boss MacSomebody, or anythingelse. Well,thatisagoodsweepinggeneral- ization. Letusseewhatthatbringsusto. Theyinvent thistheorytoaccountforthecrime. Theythenplay up to the idea by leaving this bicycle in the park as proofoftheexistenceofsomeoutsider. Thestainon the windowsill conveys the same idea. So does the cardonthebody,whichmighthavebeenpreparedin thehouse. Thatallfitsintoyourhypothesis,Watson.</s>But now we come on the nasty, angular, uncompro- misingbitswhichwon’tslipintotheirplaces. Whya cut-offshotgunofallweapons—andanAmericanone atthat? Howcouldtheybesosurethatthesoundof itwouldnotbringsomeoneontothem? It’samere chance as it is that Mrs. Allen did not start out to inquirefortheslammingdoor. Whydidyourguilty coupledoallthis,Watson?” “IconfessthatIcan’texplainit.” “Thenagain,ifawomanandherloverconspireto murderahusband,aretheygoingtoadvertisetheir guilt by ostentatiously removing his wedding ring afterhisdeath? Doesthatstrikeyouasveryprobable, Watson?” “No,itdoesnot.” “Andonceagain,ifthethoughtofleavingabicy- cleconcealedoutsidehadoccurredtoyou,wouldit reallyhaveseemedworthdoingwhenthedullestde- tectivewouldnaturallysaythisisanobviousblind,as thebicycleisthefirstthingwhichthefugitiveneeded inordertomakehisescape.” “Icanconceiveofnoexplanation.” “Andyetthereshouldbenocombinationofevents for which the wit of man cannot conceive an expla- nation. Simply as a mental exercise, without any assertionthatitistrue,letmeindicateapossibleline ofthought. Itis,Iadmit,mereimagination;buthow oftenisimaginationthemotheroftruth? “Wewillsupposethattherewasaguiltysecret,a reallyshamefulsecretinthelifeofthismanDouglas.</s>Thisleadstohismurderbysomeonewhois,wewill suppose, an avenger, someone from outside. This avenger, for some reason which I confess I am still at a loss to explain, took the dead man’s wedding ring. Thevendettamightconceivablydatebacktothe man’sfirstmarriage,andtheringbetakenforsome suchreason.</s>“Beforethisavengergotaway,Barkerandthewife hadreachedtheroom. Theassassinconvincedthem thatanyattempttoarresthimwouldleadtothepubli- cationofsomehideousscandal. Theywereconverted to this idea, and preferred to let him go. For this purposetheyprobablyloweredthebridge,whichcan bedonequitenoiselessly,andthenraiseditagain. He madehisescape,andforsomereasonthoughtthathe could do so more safely on foot than on the bicycle.</s>Hethereforelefthismachinewhereitwouldnotbe discovereduntilhehadgotsafelyaway. Sofarweare withintheboundsofpossibility,arewenot?” “Well,itispossible,nodoubt,”saidI,withsome reserve.</s>“We have to remember, Watson, that whatever occurred is certainly something very extraordinary.</s>Well, now, to continue our supposititious case, the couple—notnecessarilyaguiltycouple—realizeafter themurdererisgonethattheyhaveplacedthemselves inapositioninwhichitmaybedifficultforthemto provethattheydidnotthemselveseitherdothedeed orconniveatit. Theyrapidlyandratherclumsilymet the situation. The mark was put by Barker’s blood- stainedslipperuponthewindow-silltosuggesthowthe fugitive got away. They obviously were the two who must have heard the sound of the gun; so they gavethealarmexactlyastheywouldhavedone,but agoodhalfhouraftertheevent.” “Andhowdoyouproposetoproveallthis?” “Well,iftherewereanoutsider,hemaybetraced and taken. That would be the most effective of all proofs. Butifnot—well,theresourcesofscienceare far from being exhausted. I think that an evening aloneinthatstudywouldhelpmemuch.” “Aneveningalone!” “I propose to go up there presently. I have ar- ranged it with the estimable Ames, who is by no meanswhole-heartedaboutBarker. Ishallsitinthat roomandseeifitsatmospherebringsmeinspiration.</s>I’m a believer in the genius loci. You smile, Friend Watson. Well,weshallsee. Bytheway,youhavethat bigumbrellaofyours,haveyounot?” “Itishere.” “Well,I’llborrowthatifImay.” “Certainly—butwhatawretchedweapon! Ifthere isdanger—” “Nothing serious, my dear Watson, or I should certainlyaskforyourassistance. ButI’lltaketheum- brella. At present I am only awaiting the return of ourcolleaguesfromTunbridgeWells,wheretheyare atpresentengagedintryingforalikelyownertothe bicycle.” ItwasnightfallbeforeInspectorMacDonaldand White Mason came back from their expedition, and they arrived exultant, reporting a great advance in ourinvestigation.</s>“Man, I’ll admeet that I had my doubts if there was ever an outsider,” said MacDonald, “but that’s allpastnow. We’vehadthebicycleidentified,andwe have a description of our man; so that’s a long step onourjourney.” “It sounds to me like the beginning of the end,” saidHolmes. “I’msureIcongratulateyoubothwith allmyheart.” “Well,IstartedfromthefactthatMr.Douglashad seemeddisturbedsincethedaybefore,whenhehad been at Tunbridge Wells. It was at Tunbridge Wells thenthathehadbecomeconsciousofsomedanger. It wasclear,therefore,thatifamanhadcomeoverwith abicycleitwasfromTunbridgeWellsthathemight be expected to have come. We took the bicycle over withusandshoweditatthehotels. Itwasidentified at once by the manager of the Eagle Commercial as belongingtoamannamedHargrave,whohadtaken a room there two days before. This bicycle and a smallvalisewerehiswholebelongings. Hehadreg- istered his name as coming from London, but had givennoaddress. ThevalisewasLondonmade,and the contents were British; but the man himself was undoubtedlyanAmerican.” “Well,well,”saidHolmesgleefully,“youhavein- deeddonesomesolidworkwhileIhavebeensitting spinning theories with my friend! It’s a lesson in beingpractical,Mr.Mac.” “Ay,it’sjustthat,Mr.Holmes,”saidtheinspector withsatisfaction.</s>“But this may all fit in with your theories,” I re- marked.</s>“Thatmayormaynotbe. Butletusheartheend, Mr.Mac. Wastherenothingtoidentifythisman?” “Solittlethatitwasevidentthathehadcarefully guardedhimselfagainstidentification. Therewereno papersorletters,andnomarkingupontheclothes. A cyclemapofthecountylayonhisbedroomtable. He had left the hotel after breakfast yesterday morning on his bicycle, and no more was heard of him until ourinquiries.” “That’swhatpuzzlesme,Mr.Holmes,”saidWhite Mason. “If the fellow did not want the hue and cry raised over him, one would imagine that he would have returned and remained at the hotel as an inof- fensive tourist. As it is, he must know that he will be reported to the police by the hotel manager and that his disappearance will be connected with the murder.” “Soonewouldimagine. Still,hehasbeenjustified ofhiswisdomuptodate,atanyrate,sincehehasnot beentaken. Buthisdescription—whatofthat?” MacDonald referred to his notebook. “Here we haveitsofarastheycouldgiveit. Theydon’tseem to have taken any very particular stock of him; but still the porter, the clerk, and the chambermaid are allagreedthatthisaboutcoversthepoints. Hewasa manaboutfivefootnineinheight,fiftyorsoyearsof age,hishairslightlygrizzled,agrayishmoustache,a curvednose,andafacewhichallofthemdescribed asfierceandforbidding.” “Well,bartheexpression,thatmightalmostbea descriptionofDouglashimself,”saidHolmes. “Heis justoverfifty,withgrizzledhairandmoustache,and aboutthesameheight. Didyougetanythingelse?” “Hewasdressedinaheavygraysuitwithareefer jacket,andheworeashortyellowovercoatandasoft cap.” “Whatabouttheshotgun?”“It is less than two feet long. It could very well have fitted into his valise. He could have carried it insidehisovercoatwithoutdifficulty.” “Andhowdoyouconsiderthatallthisbearsupon thegeneralcase?” “Well,Mr.Holmes,”saidMacDonald,“whenwe have got our man—and you may be sure that I had his description on the wires within five minutes of hearingit—weshallbebetterabletojudge. But,even asitstands,wehavesurelygonealongway. Weknow that an American calling himself Hargrave came to TunbridgeWellstwodaysagowithbicycleandvalise.</s>Inthelatterwasasawed-offshotgun;sohecamewith thedeliberatepurposeofcrime. Yesterdaymorning he set off for this place on his bicycle, with his gun concealedinhisovercoat. Noonesawhimarrive,so faraswecanlearn;butheneednotpassthroughthe village to reach the park gates, and there are many cyclists upon the road. Presumably he at once con- cealedhiscycleamongthelaurelswhereitwasfound, and possibly lurked there himself, with his eye on thehouse,waitingforMr.Douglastocomeout. The shotgun is a strange weapon to use inside a house; buthehadintendedtouseitoutside,andthereithas veryobviousadvantages,asitwouldbeimpossibleto misswithit,andthesoundofshotsissocommonin anEnglishsportingneighbourhoodthatnoparticular noticewouldbetaken.” “Thatisallveryclear,”saidHolmes.</s>“Well,Mr.Douglasdidnotappear. Whatwashe to do next? He left his bicycle and approached the house in the twilight. He found the bridge down andnooneabout. Hetookhischance,intending,no doubt,tomakesomeexcuseifhemetanyone. Hemet no one. He slipped into the first room that he saw, andconcealedhimselfbehindthecurtain. Thencehe could see the drawbridge go up, and he knew that his only escape was through the moat. He waited untilquarter-pasteleven,whenMr.Douglasuponhis usual nightly round came into the room. He shot himandescaped,asarranged. Hewasawarethatthe bicycle would be described by the hotel people and beaclueagainsthim;soheleftitthereandmadehis waybysomeothermeanstoLondonortosomesafe hidingplacewhichhehadalreadyarranged. Howis that,Mr.Holmes?” “Well,Mr.Mac,itisverygoodandveryclearso farasitgoes. Thatisyourendofthestory. Myend isthatthecrimewascommittedhalfanhourearlier thanreported;thatMrs.DouglasandBarkerareboth inaconspiracytoconcealsomething;thattheyaided themurderer’sescape—oratleastthattheyreached theroombeforeheescaped—andthattheyfabricated evidenceofhisescapethroughthewindow,whereas inallprobabilitytheyhadthemselveslethimgoby lowering the bridge. That’s my reading of the first half.” Thetwodetectivesshooktheirheads.</s>“Well,Mr.Holmes,ifthisistrue,weonlytumble out of one mystery into another,” said the London inspector.</s>“And in some ways a worse one,” added White Mason. “The lady has never been in America in all her life. What possible connection could she have withanAmericanassassinwhichwouldcauseherto shelterhim?” “I freely admit the difficulties,” said Holmes. “I proposetomakealittleinvestigationofmyownto- night, and it is just possible that it may contribute somethingtothecommoncause.” “Canwehelpyou,Mr.Holmes?” “No, no! Darkness and Dr. Watson’s um- brella—mywantsaresimple. AndAmes,thefaithful Ames,nodoubthewillstretchapointforme. Allmy lines of thought lead me back invariably to the one basicquestion—whyshouldanathleticmandevelop hisframeuponsounnaturalaninstrumentasasingle dumb-bell?” ItwaslatethatnightwhenHolmesreturnedfrom his solitary excursion. We slept in a double-bedded room, which was the best that the little country inn could do for us. I was already asleep when I was partlyawakenedbyhisentrance.</s>“Well, Holmes,” I murmured, “have you found anythingout?” He stood beside me in silence, his candle in his hand. Thenthetall,leanfigureinclinedtowardsme.</s>“Isay,Watson,”hewhispered,“wouldyoubeafraid tosleepinthesameroomwithalunatic,amanwith softeningofthebrain,anidiotwhosemindhaslost itsgrip?” “Notintheleast,”Iansweredinastonishment.</s>“Ah,that’slucky,”hesaid,andnotanotherword wouldheutterthatnight.CHAPT he o T S Nextmorning,afterbreakfast,wefoundInspector MacDonaldandWhiteMasonseatedincloseconsul- tationinthesmallparlourofthelocalpolicesergeant.</s>On the table in front of them were piled a number of letters and telegrams, which they were carefully sortinganddocketing. Threehadbeenplacedonone side.</s>“Stillonthetrackoftheelusivebicyclist?”Holmes asked cheerfully. “What is the latest news of the ruffian?” MacDonaldpointedruefullytohisheapofcorre- spondence.</s>“HeisatpresentreportedfromLeicester,Notting- ham,Southampton,Derby,EastHam,Richmond,and fourteen other places. In three of them—East Ham, Leicester,andLiverpool—thereisaclearcaseagainst him,andhehasactuallybeenarrested. Thecountry seemstobefullofthefugitiveswithyellowcoats.” “Dearme!”saidHolmessympathetically. “Now, Mr. Mac and you, Mr. White Mason, I wish to give youaveryearnestpieceofadvice. WhenIwentinto thiscasewithyouIbargained,asyouwillnodoubt remember, that I should not present you with half- provedtheories,butthatIshouldretainandworkout my own ideas until I had satisfied myself that they werecorrect. ForthisreasonIamnotatthepresent moment telling you all that is in my mind. On the otherhand,IsaidthatIwouldplaythegamefairlyby you,andIdonotthinkitisafairgametoallowyou foroneunnecessarymomenttowasteyourenergies uponaprofitlesstask. ThereforeIamheretoadvise youthismorning,andmyadvicetoyouissummed upinthreewords—abandonthecase.” MacDonald and White Mason stared in amaze- mentattheircelebratedcolleague.</s>“Youconsiderithopeless!”criedtheinspector.</s>“I consider your case to be hopeless. I do not considerthatitishopelesstoarriveatthetruth.” “Butthiscyclist. Heisnotaninvention. Wehave hisdescription,hisvalise,hisbicycle. Thefellowmust besomewhere. Whyshouldwenotgethim?” “Yes,yes,nodoubtheissomewhere,andnodoubt weshallgethim;butIwouldnothaveyouwasteyour energiesinEastHamorLiverpool. Iamsurethatwe canfindsomeshortercuttoaresult.” “Youareholdingsomethingback. It’shardlyfair ofyou,Mr.Holmes.”Theinspectorwasannoyed.</s>TER VII.</s>lution “You know my methods of work, Mr. Mac. But I will hold it back for the shortest time possible. I onlywishtoverifymydetailsinoneway,whichcan very readily be done, and then I make my bow and returntoLondon,leavingmyresultsentirelyatyour service. Ioweyoutoomuchtoactotherwise; forin all my experience I cannot recall any more singular andinterestingstudy.” “This is clean beyond me, Mr. Holmes. We saw you when we returned from Tunbridge Wells last night, and you were in general agreement with our results. Whathashappenedsincethentogiveyoua completelynewideaofthecase?” “Well,sinceyouaskme,Ispent,asItoldyouthat Iwould,somehourslastnightattheManorHouse.” “Well,whathappened?” “Ah,Icanonlygiveyouaverygeneralanswerto that for the moment. By the way, I have been read- ing a short but clear and interesting account of the oldbuilding,purchasableatthemodestsumofone pennyfromthelocaltobacconist.” HereHolmesdrewasmalltract,embellishedwith arudeengravingoftheancientManorHouse,from hiswaistcoatpocket.</s>“Itimmenselyaddstothezestofaninvestigation, mydearMr.Mac,whenoneisinconscioussympathy withthehistoricalatmosphereofone’ssurroundings.</s>Don’t look so impatient; for I assure you that even sobaldanaccountasthisraisessomesortofpicture of the past in one’s mind. Permit me to give you a sample. ‘ErectedinthefifthyearofthereignofJames I,andstandinguponthesiteofamucholderbuild- ing, the Manor House of Birlstone presents one of thefinestsurvivingexamplesofthemoatedJacobean residence—’” “Youaremakingfoolsofus,Mr.Holmes!” “Tut,tut,Mr.Mac!—thefirstsignoftemperIhave detectedinyou. Well,Iwon’treaditverbatim,since you feel so strongly upon the subject. But when I tell you that there is some account of the taking of the place by a parliamentary colonel in 1644, of the concealmentofCharlesforseveraldaysinthecourse of the Civil War, and finally of a visit there by the secondGeorge,youwilladmitthattherearevarious associations of interest connected with this ancient house.” “Idon’tdoubtit,Mr.Holmes;butthatisnobusi- nessofours.”“Isitnot? Isitnot? Breadthofview,mydearMr.</s>Mac, is one of the essentials of our profession. The interplayofideasandtheobliqueusesofknowledge are often of extraordinary interest. You will excuse theseremarksfromonewho,thoughamereconnois- seurofcrime,isstillratherolderandperhapsmore experiencedthanyourself.” “I’m the first to admit that,” said the detective heartily. “Yougettoyourpoint,Iadmit;butyouhave suchadeucedround-the-cornerwayofdoingit.” “Well, well, I’ll drop past history and get down to present-day facts. I called last night, as I have al- readysaid,attheManorHouse. Ididnotseeeither BarkerorMrs.Douglas. Isawnonecessitytodisturb them; but I was pleased to hear that the lady was not visibly pining and that she had partaken of an excellentdinner. Myvisitwasspeciallymadetothe goodMr.Ames,withwhomIexchangedsomeamia- bilities,whichculminatedinhisallowingme,without referencetoanyoneelse,tositaloneforatimeinthe study.” “What! Withthat?”Iejaculated.</s>“No, no, everything is now in order. You gave permissionforthat,Mr.Mac,asIaminformed. The room was in its normal state, and in it I passed an instructivequarterofanhour.” “Whatwereyoudoing?” “Well,nottomakeamysteryofsosimpleamat- ter, I was looking for the missing dumb-bell. It has alwaysbulkedratherlargeinmyestimateofthecase.</s>Iendedbyfindingit.” “Where?” “Ah,therewecometotheedgeoftheunexplored.</s>Let me go a little further, a very little further, and I will promise that you shall share everything that I know.” “Well, we’re bound to take you on your own terms,” said the inspector; “but when it comes to tellingustoabandonthecase—whyinthenameof goodnessshouldweabandonthecase?” “For the simple reason, my dear Mr. Mac, that youhavenotgotthefirstideawhatitisthatyouare investigating.” “WeareinvestigatingthemurderofMr.JohnDou- glasofBirlstoneManor.” “Yes, yes, so you are. But don’t trouble to trace themysteriousgentlemanuponthebicycle. Iassure youthatitwon’thelpyou.” “Thenwhatdoyousuggestthatwedo?” “Iwilltellyouexactlywhattodo,ifyouwilldo it.” “Well,I’mboundtosayI’vealwaysfoundyouhad reasonbehindallyourqueerways. I’lldowhatyou advise.” “Andyou,Mr.WhiteMason?” Thecountrydetectivelookedhelplesslyfromone to the other. Holmes and his methods were new to him. “Well,ifitisgoodenoughfortheinspector,itis goodenoughforme,”hesaidatlast.</s>“Capital!”saidHolmes. “Well,then,Ishouldrec- ommendanice,cheerycountrywalkforbothofyou.</s>TheytellmethattheviewsfromBirlstoneRidgeover theWealdareveryremarkable. Nodoubtlunchcould begotatsomesuitablehostelry;thoughmyignorance ofthecountrypreventsmefromrecommendingone.</s>Intheevening,tiredbuthappy—” “Man,thisisgettingpastajoke!”criedMacDon- ald,risingangrilyfromhischair.</s>“Well, well, spend the day as you like,” said Holmes, patting him cheerfully upon the shoulder.</s>“Do what you like and go where you will, but meet me here before dusk without fail—without fail, Mr.</s>Mac.” “Thatsoundsmorelikesanity.” “Allofitwasexcellentadvice;butIdon’tinsist,so longasyouareherewhenIneedyou. Butnow,before wepart,IwantyoutowriteanotetoMr.Barker.” “Well?” “I’lldictateit,ifyoulike. Ready? “DearSir: “It has struck me that it is our duty to drain the moat, in the hope that we may findsome—“ “It’s impossible,” said the inspector. “I’ve made inquiry.” “Tut,tut! Mydearsir,pleasedowhatIaskyou.” “Well,goon.” “—in the hope that we may find some- thingwhichmaybearuponourinvestiga- tion. Ihavemadearrangements,andthe workmenwillbeatworkearlyto-morrow morningdivertingthestream—“ “Impossible!” “—divertingthestream;soIthoughtit besttoexplainmattersbeforehand.“Now sign that, and send it by hand about four o’clock. Atthathourweshallmeetagaininthisroom.</s>Until then we may each do what we like; for I can assure you that this inquiry has come to a definite pause.” Evening was drawing in when we reassembled.</s>Holmeswasveryseriousinhismanner,myselfcuri- ous,andthedetectivesobviouslycriticalandannoyed.</s>“Well,gentlemen,”saidmyfriendgravely,“Iam asking you now to put everything to the test with me, and you will judge for yourselves whether the observations I have made justify the conclusions to whichIhavecome. Itisachillevening,andIdonot knowhowlongourexpeditionmaylast;soIbegthat you will wear your warmest coats. It is of the first importance that we should be in our places before itgrowsdark; sowithyourpermissionweshallget startedatonce.” Wepassed along theouter boundsof the Manor Houseparkuntilwecametoaplacewheretherewas a gap in the rails which fenced it. Through this we slipped,andtheninthegatheringgloomwefollowed Holmesuntilwehadreachedashrubberywhichlies nearlyoppositetothemaindoorandthedrawbridge.</s>The latter had not been raised. Holmes crouched down behind the screen of laurels, and we all three followedhisexample.</s>“Well,whatarewetodonow?”askedMacDonald withsomegruffness.</s>“Possessoursoulsinpatienceandmakeaslittle noiseaspossible,”Holmesanswered.</s>“What are we here for at all? I really think that youmighttreatuswithmorefrankness.” Holmes laughed. “Watson insists that I am the dramatist in real life,” said he. “Some touch of the artist wells up within me, and calls insistently for a well-stagedperformance. Surelyourprofession,Mr.</s>Mac, would be a drab and sordid one if we did not sometimes set the scene so as to glorify our results.</s>Thebluntaccusation,thebrutaltapupontheshoul- der—what can one make of such a de´nouement? But thequickinference,thesubtletrap,thecleverforecast ofcomingevents,thetriumphantvindicationofbold theories—arethesenottheprideandthejustification ofourlife’swork? Atthepresentmomentyouthrill withtheglamourofthesituationandtheanticipation ofthehunt. WherewouldbethatthrillifIhadbeen asdefiniteasatimetable? Ionlyaskalittlepatience, Mr.Mac,andallwillbecleartoyou.” “Well, I hope the pride and justification and the restofitwillcomebeforeweallgetourdeathofcold,” saidtheLondondetectivewithcomicresignation.</s>We all had good reason to join in the aspiration; for our vigil was a long and bitter one. Slowly the shadowsdarkenedoverthelong,sombrefaceofthe oldhouse. Acold,dampreekfromthemoatchilled us to the bones and set our teeth chattering. There wasasinglelampoverthegatewayandasteadyglobe of light in the fatal study. Everything else was dark andstill.</s>“How long is this to last?” asked the inspector finally. “Andwhatisitwearewatchingfor?” “Ihavenomorenotionthanyouhowlongitisto last,”Holmesansweredwithsomeasperity. “Ifcrim- inals would always schedule their movements like railwaytrains,itwouldcertainlybemoreconvenient forallofus. Astowhatitiswe—Well,that’swhatwe arewatchingfor!” Ashespokethebright,yellowlightinthestudy wasobscuredbysomebodypassingtoandfrobefore it. Thelaurelsamongwhichwelaywereimmediately oppositethewindowandnotmorethanahundred feet from it. Presently it was thrown open with a whiningofhinges,andwecoulddimlyseethedark outline of a man’s head and shoulders looking out into the gloom. For some minutes he peered forth infurtive,stealthyfashion,asonewhowishestobe assured that he is unobserved. Then he leaned for- ward, and in the intense silence we were aware of the soft lapping of agitated water. He seemed to be stirring up the moat with something which he held inhishand. Thensuddenlyhehauledsomethingin asafishermanlandsafish—somelarge,roundobject whichobscuredthelightasitwasdraggedthrough theopencasement.</s>“Now!”criedHolmes. “Now!” We were all upon our feet, staggering after him withourstiffenedlimbs,whileheranswiftlyacross thebridgeandrangviolentlyatthebell. Therewas the rasping of bolts from the other side, and the amazedAmesstoodintheentrance. Holmesbrushed himasidewithoutawordand,followedbyallofus, rushed into the room which had been occupied by themanwhomwehadbeenwatching.</s>The oil lamp on the table represented the glow which we had seen from outside. It was now in the hand of Cecil Barker, who held it towards us as we entered. Its light shone upon his strong, resolute, clean-shavedfaceandhismenacingeyes.“What the devil is the meaning of all this?” he cried. “Whatareyouafter,anyhow?” Holmes took a swift glance round, and then pounced upon a sodden bundle tied together with cord which lay where it had been thrust under the writingtable.</s>“Thisiswhatweareafter,Mr.Barker—thisbun- dle,weightedwithadumb-bell,whichyouhavejust raisedfromthebottomofthemoat.” Barker stared at Holmes with amazement in his face. “How in thunder came you to know anything aboutit?”heasked.</s>“SimplythatIputitthere.” “Youputitthere! You!” “Perhaps I should have said ‘replaced it there,’” saidHolmes. “Youwillremember,InspectorMacDon- ald, thatIwassomewhatstruckbytheabsenceofa dumb-bell. I drew your attention to it; but with the pressure of other events you had hardly the time to giveittheconsiderationwhichwouldhaveenabled youtodrawdeductionsfromit. Whenwaterisnear and a weight is missing it is not a very far-fetched suppositionthatsomethinghasbeensunkinthewa- ter. The idea was at least worth testing; so with the helpofAmes,whoadmittedmetotheroom,andthe crookofDr.Watson’sumbrella,Iwasablelastnight tofishupandinspectthisbundle.</s>“It was of the first importance, however, that we shouldbeabletoprovewhoplaceditthere. Thiswe accomplishedbytheveryobviousdeviceofannounc- ingthatthemoatwouldbedriedto-morrow,which had, of course, the effect that whoever had hidden thebundlewouldmostcertainlywithdrawitthemo- mentthatdarknessenabledhimtodoso. Wehaveno less than four witnesses as to who it was who took advantage of the opportunity, and so, Mr. Barker, I thinkthewordliesnowwithyou.” Sherlock Holmes put the sopping bundle upon thetablebesidethelampandundidthecordwhich bound it. From within he extracted a dumb-bell, whichhetosseddowntoitsfellowinthecorner. Next he drew forth a pair of boots. “American, as you perceive,” he remarked, pointing to the toes. Then helaiduponthetablealong,deadly,sheathedknife.</s>Finallyheunravelledabundleofclothing,comprising a complete set of underclothes, socks, a gray tweed suit,andashortyellowovercoat.</s>“The clothes are commonplace,” remarked Holmes, “save only the overcoat, which is full of suggestivetouches.”Heheldittenderlytowardsthe light. “Here,asyouperceive,istheinnerpocketpro- longedintothelininginsuchfashionastogiveample spaceforthetruncatedfowlingpiece. Thetailor’stab is on the neck—‘Neal, Outfitter, Vermissa, U. S. A.’ I have spent an instructive afternoon in the rector’s library,andhaveenlargedmyknowledgebyadding thefactthatVermissaisaflourishinglittletownatthe headofoneofthebestknowncoalandironvalleys in the United States. I have some recollection, Mr.</s>Barker,thatyouassociatedthecoaldistrictswithMr.</s>Douglas’s first wife, and it would surely not be too far-fetchedaninferencethattheV.V.uponthecard by the dead body might stand for Vermissa Valley, orthatthisveryvalleywhichsendsforthemissaries of murder may be that Valley of Fear of which we have heard. So much is fairly clear. And now, Mr.</s>Barker, I seem to be standing rather in the way of yourexplanation.” ItwasasighttoseeCecilBarker’sexpressiveface during this exposition of the great detective. Anger, amazement,consternation,andindecisionsweptover itinturn. Finallyhetookrefugeinasomewhatacrid irony.</s>“You know such a lot, Mr. Holmes, perhaps you hadbettertellussomemore,”hesneered.</s>“IhavenodoubtthatIcouldtellyouagreatdeal more, Mr. Barker; but it would come with a better gracefromyou.” “Oh, you think so, do you? Well, all I can say is thatifthere’sanysecrethereitisnotmysecret,andI amnotthemantogiveitaway.” “Well, if you take that line, Mr. Barker,” said the inspector quietly, “we must just keep you in sight untilwehavethewarrantandcanholdyou.” “You can do what you damn please about that,” saidBarkerdefiantly.</s>Theproceedingsseemedtohavecometoadefinite endsofarashewasconcerned;foronehadonlyto look at that granite face to realize that no peine forte etdurewouldeverforcehimtopleadagainsthiswill.</s>The deadlock was broken, however, by a woman’s voice. Mrs. Douglas had been standing listening at thehalfopeneddoor,andnowsheenteredtheroom.</s>“Youhavedoneenoughfornow,Cecil,”saidshe.</s>“Whatever comes of it in the future, you have done enough.” “Enoughandmorethanenough,”remarkedSher- lock Holmes gravely. “I have every sympathy with you, madam, and should strongly urge you to have some confidence in the common sense of our juris- diction and to take the police voluntarily into your complete confidence. It may be that I am myself atfault for not following up the hint which you con- veyed to me through my friend, Dr. Watson; but, at thattimeIhadeveryreasontobelievethatyouwere directly concerned in the crime. Now I am assured that this is not so. At the same time, there is much thatisunexplained,andIshouldstronglyrecommend thatyouaskMr.Douglastotellushisownstory.” Mrs. Douglas gave a cry of astonishment at Holmes’s words. The detectives and I must have echoedit,whenwewereawareofamanwhoseemed to have emerged from the wall, who advanced now from the gloom of the corner in which he had ap- peared. Mrs. Douglas turned, and in an instant her arms were round him. Barker had seized his out- stretchedhand.</s>“It’sbestthisway,Jack,”hiswiferepeated;“Iam surethatitisbest.” “Indeed,yes,Mr.Douglas,”saidSherlockHolmes, “Iamsurethatyouwillfinditbest.” Themanstoodblinkingatuswiththedazedlook of one who comes from the dark into the light. It wasaremarkableface,boldgrayeyes,astrong,short- clipped,grizzledmoustache,asquare,projectingchin, and a humorous mouth. He took a good look at us all, and then to my amazement he advanced to me andhandedmeabundleofpaper.</s>“I’veheardofyou,”saidheinavoicewhichwas not quite English and not quite American, but was altogether mellow and pleasing. “You are the histo- rianofthisbunch. Well,Dr.Watson,you’veneverhad suchastoryasthatpassthroughyourhandsbefore, and I’ll lay my last dollar on that. Tell it your own way; but there are the facts, and you can’t miss the publicsolongasyouhavethose. I’vebeencoopedup twodays,andI’vespentthedaylighthours—asmuch daylightasIcouldgetinthatrattrap—inputtingthe thingintowords. You’rewelcometothem—youand yourpublic. There’sthestoryoftheValleyofFear.” “That’s the past, Mr. Douglas,” said Sherlock Holmes quietly. “What we desire now is to hear yourstoryofthepresent.” “You’llhaveit,sir,”saidDouglas. “MayIsmoke as I talk? Well, thank you, Mr. Holmes. You’re a smokeryourself,ifIrememberright,andyou’llguess what it is to be sitting for two days with tobacco in your pocket and afraid that the smell will give you away.”Heleanedagainstthemantelpieceandsucked at the cigar which Holmes had handed him. “I’ve heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I never guessed that I should meet you. But before you are through with that,” he nodded at my papers, “you will say I’ve broughtyousomethingfresh.” InspectorMacDonaldhadbeenstaringatthenew- comerwiththegreatestamazement. “Well,thisfairly beatsme!”hecriedatlast. “IfyouareMr.JohnDou- glas of Birlstone Manor, then whose death have we beeninvestigatingforthesetwodays,andwherein the world have you sprung from now? You seemed tometocomeoutofthefloorlikeajack-in-a-box.” “Ah,Mr.Mac,”saidHolmes,shakingareproving forefinger, “you would not read that excellent local compilationwhichdescribedtheconcealmentofKing Charles. People did not hide in those days without excellenthidingplaces,andthehidingplacethathas oncebeenusedmaybeagain. Ihadpersuadedmyself thatweshouldfindMr.Douglasunderthisroof.” “And how long have you been playing this trick upon us, Mr. Holmes?” said the inspector angrily.</s>“How long have you allowed us to waste ourselves uponasearchthatyouknewtobeanabsurdone?” “Not one instant, my dear Mr. Mac. Only last nightdidIformmyviewsofthecase. Astheycould not be put to the proof until this evening, I invited youandyourcolleaguetotakeaholidayfortheday.</s>PraywhatmorecouldIdo? WhenIfoundthesuitof clothesinthemoat,itatoncebecameapparenttome thatthebodywehadfoundcouldnothavebeenthe bodyofMr.JohnDouglasatall,butmustbethatof thebicyclistfromTunbridgeWells. Nootherconclu- sionwaspossible. ThereforeIhadtodeterminewhere Mr.JohnDouglashimselfcouldbe,andthebalanceof probabilitywasthatwiththeconnivanceofhiswife andhisfriendhewasconcealedinahousewhichhad suchconveniencesforafugitive,andawaitingquieter timeswhenhecouldmakehisfinalescape.” “Well, you figured it out about right,” said Dou- glas approvingly. “I thought I’d dodge your British law; for I was not sure how I stood under it, and alsoIsawmychancetothrowthesehoundsoncefor all off my track. Mind you, from first to last I have done nothing to be ashamed of, and nothing that I would not do again; but you’ll judge that for your- selveswhenItellyoumystory. Nevermindwarning me,Inspector: I’mreadytostandpatuponthetruth.</s>“I’m not going to begin at the beginning. That’s allthere,”heindicatedmybundleofpapers,“anda mightyqueeryarnyou’llfindit. Itallcomesdownto this: Thattherearesomementhathavegoodcause tohatemeandwouldgivetheirlastdollartoknow that they had got me. So long as I am alive and theyarealive,thereisnosafetyinthisworldforme.TheyhuntedmefromChicagotoCalifornia,thenthey chased me out of America; but when I married and settleddowninthisquietspotIthoughtmylastyears weregoingtobepeaceable.</s>“I never explained to my wife how things were.</s>WhyshouldIpullherintoit? Shewouldneverhavea quietmomentagain;butwouldalwaysbeimagining trouble. Ifancysheknewsomething,forImayhave dropped aword here ora word there; but until yes- terday, after you gentlemen had seen her, she never knew the rights of the matter. She told you all she knew,andsodidBarkerhere;foronthenightwhen thisthinghappenedtherewasmightylittletimefor explanations. Sheknowseverythingnow,andIwould havebeenawisermanifIhadtoldhersooner. Butit wasahardquestion,dear,”hetookherhandforan instantinhisown,“andIactedforthebest.</s>“Well,gentlemen,thedaybeforethesehappenings I was over in Tunbridge Wells, and I got a glimpse of a man in the street. It was only a glimpse; but I haveaquickeyeforthesethings,andIneverdoubted who it was. It was the worst enemy I had among them all—one who has been after me like a hungry wolfafteracariboualltheseyears. Iknewtherewas trouble coming, and I came home and made ready for it. I guessed I’d fight through it all right on my own,myluckwasaproverbintheStatesabout’76. I neverdoubtedthatitwouldbewithmestill.</s>“I was on my guard all that next day, and never went out into the park. It’s as well, or he’d have had the drop on me with that buckshot gun of his before ever I could draw on him. After the bridge wasup—mymindwasalwaysmorerestfulwhenthat bridgewasupintheevenings—Iputthethingclear outofmyhead. Ineverdreamedofhisgettinginto thehouseandwaitingforme. ButwhenImademy roundinmydressinggown,aswasmyhabit,Ihad nosoonerenteredthestudythanIscenteddanger. I guesswhenamanhashaddangersinhislife—and I’vehadmorethanmostinmytime—thereisakind ofsixthsensethatwavestheredflag. Isawthesignal clear enough, and yet I couldn’t tell you why. Next instant I spotted a boot under the window curtain, andthenIsawwhyplainenough.</s>“I’djusttheonecandlethatwasinmyhand;but therewasagoodlightfromthehalllampthroughthe opendoor. Iputdownthecandleandjumpedfora hammerthatI’dleftonthemantel. Atthesamemo- menthesprangatme. Isawtheglintofaknife,andI lashedathimwiththehammer. Igothimsomewhere; for the knife tinkled down on the floor. He dodged roundthetableasquickasaneel,andamomentlater he’d got his gun from under his coat. I heard him cockit;butIhadgotholdofitbeforehecouldfire. I had it by the barrel, and we wrestled for it all ends upforaminuteormore. Itwasdeathtothemanthat losthisgrip.</s>“He never lost his grip; but he got it butt down- ward for a moment too long. Maybe it was I that pulledthetrigger. Maybewejustjolteditoffbetween us. Anyhow,hegotbothbarrelsintheface,andthere I was, staring down at all that was left of Ted Bald- win. I’drecognizedhiminthetownship, andagain whenhesprangforme;buthisownmotherwouldn’t recognizehimasIsawhimthen. I’musedtorough work;butIfairlyturnedsickatthesightofhim.</s>“I was hanging on the side of the table when Barkercamehurryingdown. Iheardmywifecoming, and I ran to the door and stopped her. It was no sightforawoman. IpromisedI’dcometohersoon.</s>I said a word or two to Barker—he took it all in at aglance—andwewaitedfortheresttocomealong.</s>Buttherewasnosignofthem. Thenweunderstood that they could hear nothing, and that all that had happenedwasknownonlytoourselves.</s>“Itwasatthatinstantthattheideacametome. I was fairly dazzled by the brilliance of it. The man’s sleeve had slipped up and there was the branded markofthelodgeuponhisforearm. Seehere!” ThemanwhomwehadknownasDouglasturned up his own coat and cuff to show a brown triangle within a circle exactly like that which we had seen uponthedeadman.</s>“It was the sight of that which started me on it.</s>I seemed to see it all clear at a glance. There were hisheightandhairandfigure,aboutthesameasmy own. No one could swear to his face, poor devil! I brought down this suit of clothes, and in a quarter of an hour Barker and I had put my dressing gown onhimandhelayasyoufoundhim. Wetiedallhis things into a bundle, and I weighted them with the only weight I could find and put them through the window. Thecardhehadmeanttolayuponmybody waslyingbesidehisown.</s>“My rings were put on his finger; but when it cametotheweddingring,”heheldouthismuscular hand, “you can see for yourselves that I had struck the limit. I have not moved it since the day I was married,anditwouldhavetakenafiletogetitoff. I don’tknow,anyhow,thatIshouldhavecaredtopart withit; butifIhadwantedtoIcouldn’t. Sowejust had to leave that detail to take care of itself. On the otherhand,Ibroughtabitofplasterdownandputit where I am wearing one myself at this instant. Youslipped up there, Mr. Holmes, clever as you are; for ifyouhadchancedtotakeoffthatplasteryouwould havefoundnocutunderneathit.</s>“Well,thatwasthesituation. IfIcouldlielowfor awhileandthengetawaywhereIcouldbejoinedby my‘widow’weshouldhaveachanceatlastofliving inpeacefortherestofourlives. Thesedevilswould givemenorestsolongasIwasaboveground;butif theysawinthepapersthatBaldwinhadgothisman, there would be an end of all my troubles. I hadn’t much time to make it all clear to Barker and to my wife;buttheyunderstoodenoughtobeabletohelp me. Iknewallaboutthishidingplace,sodidAmes; but it never entered his head to connect it with the matter. Iretiredintoit,anditwasuptoBarkertodo therest.</s>“Iguessyoucanfillinforyourselveswhathedid.</s>He opened the window and made the mark on the sill to give an idea of how the murderer escaped. It wasatallorder,that;butasthebridgewasupthere wasnootherway. Then,wheneverythingwasfixed, herangthebellforallhewasworth. Whathappened afterwardyouknow. Andso,gentlemen,youcando whatyouplease;butI’vetoldyouthetruthandthe wholetruth,sohelpmeGod! WhatIaskyounowis howdoIstandbytheEnglishlaw?” TherewasasilencewhichwasbrokenbySherlock Holmes.</s>“TheEnglishlawisinthemainajustlaw. Youwill getnoworsethanyourdesertsfromthat,Mr.Douglas.</s>ButIwouldaskyouhowdidthismanknowthatyou livedhere,orhowtogetintoyourhouse,orwhereto hidetogetyou?” “Iknownothingofthis.” Holmes’s face was very white and grave. “The storyisnotoveryet,Ifear,”saidhe. “Youmayfind worsedangersthantheEnglishlaw,oreventhanyour enemiesfromAmerica. Iseetroublebeforeyou,Mr.</s>Douglas. You’ll take my advice and still be on your guard.” And now, my long-suffering readers, I will ask you to come away with me for a time, far from the SussexManorHouseofBirlstone,andfaralsofrom theyearofgraceinwhichwemadeoureventfuljour- ney which ended with the strange story of the man who had been known as John Douglas. I wish you tojourneybacksometwentyyearsintime,andwest- ward some thousands of miles in space, that I may lay before you a singular and terrible narrative—so singularandsoterriblethatyoumayfindithardto believethatevenasItellit,evensodiditoccur.</s>Do not think that I intrude one story before an- other is finished. As you read on you will find that thisisnotso. AndwhenIhavedetailedthosedistant eventsandyouhavesolvedthismysteryofthepast, we shall meet once more in those rooms on Baker Street,wherethis,likesomanyotherwonderfulhap- penings,willfinditsend.CHAP he T ItwasthefourthofFebruaryintheyear1875. It had been a severe winter, and the snow lay deep in the gorges of the Gilmerton Mountains. The steam ploughs had, however, kept the railroad open, and the evening train which connects the long line of coal-miningandiron-workingsettlementswasslowly groaning its way up the steep gradients which lead from Stagville on the plain to Vermissa, the central township which lies at the head of Vermissa Valley.</s>From this point the track sweeps downward to Bar- tonsCrossing,Helmdale,andthepurelyagricultural countyofMerton. Itwasasingle-trackrailroad;butat everysiding—andtheywerenumerous—longlinesof truckspiledwithcoalandironoretoldofthehidden wealth which had brought a rude population and a bustlinglifetothismostdesolatecorneroftheUnited StatesofAmerica.</s>For desolateit was! Little couldthe first pioneer who had traversed it have ever imagined that the fairestprairiesandthemostlushwaterpastureswere valuelesscomparedtothisgloomylandofblackcrag andtangledforest. Abovethedarkandoftenscarcely penetrable woods upon their flanks, the high, bare crowns of the mountains, white snow, and jagged rocktowereduponeachflank,leavingalong,wind- ing, tortuous valley in the centre. Up this the little trainwasslowlycrawling.</s>Theoillampshadjustbeenlitintheleadingpas- sengercar,along,barecarriageinwhichsometwenty orthirtypeoplewereseated. Thegreaternumberof these were workmen returning from their day’s toil in the lower part of the valley. At least a dozen, by their grimed faces and the safety lanterns which they carried, proclaimed themselves miners. These satsmokinginagroupandconversedinlowvoices, glancingoccasionallyattwomenontheoppositeside ofthecar,whoseuniformsandbadgesshowedthem tobepolicemen.</s>Severalwomenofthelabouringclassandoneor twotravellerswhomighthavebeensmalllocalstore- keepers made up the rest of the company, with the exceptionofoneyoungmaninacornerbyhimself. It iswiththismanthatweareconcerned. Takeagood lookathim,forheisworthit.</s>Heisafresh-complexioned,middle-sizedyoung man,notfar,onewouldguess,fromhisthirtiethyear.</s>He has large, shrewd, humorous gray eyes which twinkle inquiringly from time to time as he looks PTER I.</s>an M roundthroughhisspectaclesatthepeopleabouthim.</s>It is easy to see that he is of a sociable and possibly simpledisposition,anxioustobefriendlytoallmen.</s>Anyone could pick him at once as gregarious in his habitsandcommunicativeinhisnature,withaquick witandareadysmile. Andyetthemanwhostudied himmorecloselymightdiscernacertainfirmnessof jaw and grim tightness about the lips which would warn him that there were depths beyond, and that this pleasant, brown-haired young Irishman might conceivablyleavehismarkforgoodoreviluponany societytowhichhewasintroduced.</s>Havingmadeoneortwotentativeremarkstothe nearestminer,andreceivingonlyshort,gruffreplies, thetravellerresignedhimselftouncongenialsilence, staringmoodilyoutofthewindowatthefadingland- scape.</s>Itwasnotacheeringprospect. Throughthegrow- inggloomtherepulsedtheredglowofthefurnaces on the sides of the hills. Great heaps of slag and dumpsofcindersloomeduponeachside,withthe high shafts of the collieries towering above them.</s>Huddled groups of mean, wooden houses, the win- dowsofwhichwerebeginningtooutlinethemselves inlight,werescatteredhereandtherealongtheline, and the frequent halting places were crowded with theirswarthyinhabitants.</s>TheironandcoalvalleysoftheVermissadistrict were no resorts for the leisured or the cultured. Ev- erywherethereweresternsignsofthecrudestbattle oflife,therudeworktobedone,andtherude,strong workerswhodidit.</s>The young traveller gazed out into this dismal countrywithafaceofmingledrepulsionandinterest, whichshowedthatthescenewasnewtohim. Atinter- valshedrewfromhispocketabulkylettertowhich he referred, and on the margins of which he scrib- bledsomenotes. Oncefromthebackofhiswaisthe producedsomethingwhichonewouldhardlyhaveex- pectedtofindinthepossessionofsomild-mannered aman. Itwasanavyrevolverofthelargestsize. As heturneditslantwisetothelight,theglintuponthe rims of the copper shells within the drum showed thatitwasfullyloaded. Hequicklyrestoredittohis secret pocket, but not before it had been observed byaworkingmanwhohadseatedhimselfuponthe adjoiningbench.</s>“Hullo, mate!” said he. “You seem heeled and ready.”Theyoungmansmiledwithanairofembarrass- ment.</s>“Yes,” said he, “we need them sometimes in the placeIcomefrom.” “Andwheremaythatbe?” “I’mlastfromChicago.” “Astrangerintheseparts?” “Yes.” “You may find you need it here,” said the work- man.</s>“Ah! is that so?” The young man seemed inter- ested.</s>“Haveyouheardnothingofdoingshereabouts?” “Nothingoutoftheway.” “Why,Ithoughtthecountrywasfullofit. You’ll hearquickenough. Whatmadeyoucomehere?” “Iheardtherewasalwaysworkforawillingman.” “Areyouamemberoftheunion?” “Sure.” “Thenyou’llgetyourjob,Iguess. Haveyouany friends?” “Notyet;butIhavethemeansofmakingthem.” “How’sthat,then?” “I am one of the Eminent Order of Freemen.</s>There’snotownwithoutalodge,andwherethereis alodgeI’llfindmyfriends.” The remark had a singular effect upon his com- panion. Heglancedroundsuspiciouslyattheothers in the car. The miners were still whispering among themselves. Thetwopoliceofficersweredozing. He came across, seated himself close to the young trav- eller,andheldouthishand.</s>“Putitthere,”hesaid.</s>Ahand-grippassedbetweenthetwo.</s>“I see you speak the truth,” said the workman.</s>“But it’s well to make certain.” He raised his right handtohisrighteyebrow. Thetravelleratonceraised hislefthandtohislefteyebrow.</s>“Darknightsareunpleasant,”saidtheworkman.</s>“Yes,forstrangerstotravel,”theotheranswered.</s>“That’sgoodenough. I’mBrotherScanlan,Lodge 341,VermissaValley. Gladtoseeyouintheseparts.” “Thank you. I’m Brother John McMurdo, Lodge 29,Chicago. BodymasterJ.H.Scott. ButIaminluck tomeetabrothersoearly.” “Well,thereareplentyofusabout. Youwon’tfind the order more flourishing anywhere in the States thanrighthereinVermissaValley. Butwecoulddo with some lads like you. I can’t understand a spry manoftheunionfindingnoworktodoinChicago.” “Ifoundplentyofworktodo,”saidMcMurdo.</s>“Thenwhydidyouleave?” McMurdo nodded towards the policemen and smiled. “Iguessthosechapswouldbegladtoknow,” hesaid.</s>Scanlangroanedsympathetically. “Introuble?”he askedinawhisper.</s>“Deep.” “Apenitentiaryjob?” “Andtherest.” “Notakilling!” “It’s early days to talk of such things,” said Mc- Murdowiththeairofamanwhohadbeensurprised into saying more than he intended. “I’ve my own good reasons for leaving Chicago, and let that be enough for you. Who are you that you should take it on yourself to ask such things?” His gray eyes gleamedwithsuddenanddangerousangerfrombe- hindhisglasses.</s>“Allright,mate,nooffensemeant. Theboyswill thinknonetheworseofyou,whateveryoumayhave done. Whereareyouboundfornow?” “Vermissa.” “That’s the third halt down the line. Where are youstaying?” McMurdotookoutanenvelopeandhelditclose to the murky oil lamp. “Here is the address—Jacob Shafter, Sheridan Street. It’s a boarding house that wasrecommendedbyamanIknewinChicago.” “Well,Idon’tknowit;butVermissaisoutofmy beat. IliveatHobson’sPatch,andthat’sherewhere wearedrawingup. But,say,there’sonebitofadvice I’llgiveyoubeforewepart: Ifyou’reintroubleinVer- missa, go straight to the Union House and see Boss McGinty. He is the Bodymaster of Vermissa Lodge, and nothing can happen in these parts unless Black Jack McGinty wants it. So long, mate! Maybe we’ll meet in lodge one of these evenings. But mind my words: Ifyouareintrouble,gotoBossMcGinty.” Scanlandescended,andMcMurdowasleftonce againtohisthoughts. Nighthadnowfallen,andthe flamesofthefrequentfurnaceswereroaringandleap- inginthedarkness. Againsttheirluridbackground darkfigureswerebendingandstraining,twistingand turning,withthemotionofwinchorofwindlass,to therhythmofaneternalclankandroar.“Iguesshellmustlooksomethinglikethat,”said avoice.</s>McMurdoturnedandsawthatoneofthepolice- menhadshiftedinhisseatandwasstaringoutinto thefierywaste.</s>“Forthatmatter,”saidtheotherpoliceman,“Ial- lowthathellmustbesomethinglikethat. Ifthereare worsedevilsdownyonderthansomewecouldname, it’smorethanI’dexpect. Iguessyouarenewtothis part,youngman?” “Well, what if I am?” McMurdo answered in a surlyvoice.</s>“Just this, mister, that I should advise you to be careful in choosing your friends. I don’t think I’d beginwithMikeScanlanorhisgangifIwereyou.” “What the hell is it to you who are my friends?” roaredMcMurdoinavoicewhichbroughteveryhead inthecarriageroundtowitnessthealtercation. “Did Iaskyouforyouradvice,ordidyouthinkmesuch asuckerthatIcouldn’tmovewithoutit? Youspeak whenyouarespokento,andbytheLordyou’dhave to wait a long time if it was me!” He thrust out his faceandgrinnedatthepatrolmenlikeasnarlingdog.</s>The two policemen, heavy, good-natured men, were taken aback by the extraordinary vehemence withwhichtheirfriendlyadvanceshadbeenrejected.</s>“Nooffense,stranger,”saidone. “Itwasawarn- ingforyourowngood,seeingthatyouare,byyour ownshowing,newtotheplace.” “I’mnewtotheplace;butI’mnotnewtoyouand your kind!” cried McMurdo in cold fury. “I guess you’rethesameinallplaces,shovingyouradvicein whennobodyasksforit.” “Maybe we’ll see more of you before very long,” saidoneofthepatrolmenwithagrin. “You’reareal hand-pickedone,ifIamajudge.” “Iwasthinkingthesame,”remarkedtheother. “I guesswemaymeetagain.” “I’m not afraid of you, and don’t you think it!” cried McMurdo. “My name’s Jack McMurdo—see? Ifyouwantme,you’llfindmeatJacobShafter’son SheridanStreet,Vermissa;soI’mnothidingfromyou, am I? Day or night I dare to look the like of you in theface—don’tmakeanymistakeaboutthat!” There was a murmur of sympathy and admira- tionfromtheminersatthedauntlessdemeanourof the newcomer, while the two policemen shrugged theirshouldersandrenewedaconversationbetween themselves.</s>A few minutes later the train ran into the ill-lit station,andtherewasageneralclearing;forVermissa was by far the largest town on the line. McMurdo pickeduphisleathergripsackandwasabouttostart offintothedarkness,whenoneoftheminersaccosted him.</s>“By Gar, mate! you know how to speak to the cops,”hesaidinavoiceofawe. “Itwasgrandtohear you. Letmecarryyourgripandshowyoutheroad.</s>I’mpassingShafter’sonthewaytomyownshack.” There was a chorus of friendly “Good-nights” from the other miners as they passed from the plat- form. Beforeeverhehadsetfootinit,McMurdothe turbulenthadbecomeacharacterinVermissa.</s>The country had been a place of terror; but the town was in its way even more depressing. Down that long valley there was at least a certain gloomy grandeur in the huge fires and the clouds of drift- ing smoke, while the strength and industry of man found fitting monuments in the hills which he had spilledbythesideofhismonstrousexcavations. But thetownshowedadeadlevelofmeanuglinessand squalor. Thebroadstreetwaschurnedupbythetraf- fic into a horrible rutted paste of muddy snow. The sidewalks were narrow and uneven. The numerous gas-lamps served only to show more clearly a long lineofwoodenhouses,eachwithitsverandafacing thestreet,unkemptanddirty.</s>As they approached the centre of the town the scenewasbrightenedbyarowofwell-litstores,and evenmorebyaclusterofsaloonsandgaminghouses, inwhichtheminersspenttheirhard-earnedbutgen- erouswages.</s>“That’stheUnionHouse,”saidtheguide,point- ingtoonesaloonwhichrosealmosttothedignityof beingahotel. “JackMcGintyisthebossthere.” “Whatsortofamanishe?”McMurdoasked.</s>“What! haveyouneverheardoftheboss?” “HowcouldIhaveheardofhimwhenyouknow thatIamastrangerintheseparts?” “Well,Ithoughthisnamewasknownclearacross thecountry. It’sbeeninthepapersoftenenough.” “Whatfor?” “Well,” the miner lowered his voice—“over the affairs.” “Whataffairs?” “Good Lord, mister! you are queer, if I must say itwithoutoffense. There’sonlyonesetofaffairsthat you’llhearofintheseparts,andthat’stheaffairsof theScowrers.”“Why, I seem to have read of the Scowrers in Chicago. Agangofmurderers,aretheynot?” “Hush, on your life!” cried the miner, standing still in alarm, and gazing in amazement at his com- panion. “Man, you won’t live long in these parts if you speak in the open street like that. Many a man hashadthelifebeatenoutofhimforless.” “Well,Iknownothingaboutthem. It’sonlywhat Ihaveread.” “And I’m not saying that you have not read the truth.” The man looked nervously round him as he spoke,peeringintotheshadowsasifhefearedtosee somelurkingdanger. “Ifkillingismurder,thenGod knows there is murder and to spare. But don’t you daretobreathethenameofJackMcGintyinconnec- tionwithit,stranger;foreverywhispergoesbackto him,andheisnotonethatislikelytoletitpass. Now, that’sthehouseyou’reafter,thatonestandingback fromthestreet. You’llfindoldJacobShafterthatruns itashonestamanaslivesinthistownship.” “Ithankyou,”saidMcMurdo,andshakinghands with his new acquaintance he plodded, gripsack in hand,upthepathwhichledtothedwellinghouse,at thedoorofwhichhegavearesoundingknock.</s>Itwasopenedatoncebysomeoneverydifferent fromwhathehadexpected. Itwasawoman,young andsingularlybeautiful. ShewasoftheGermantype, blondeandfair-haired,withthepiquantcontrastofa pairofbeautifuldarkeyeswithwhichshesurveyed thestrangerwithsurpriseandapleasingembarrass- ment which brought a wave of colour over her pale face. Framedinthebrightlightoftheopendoorway, itseemedtoMcMurdothathehadneverseenamore beautifulpicture;themoreattractiveforitscontrast withthesordidandgloomysurroundings. Alovely violetgrowingupononeofthoseblackslag-heapsof the mines would not have seemed more surprising.</s>Soentrancedwashethathestoodstaringwithouta word,anditwasshewhobrokethesilence.</s>“Ithoughtitwasfather,”saidshewithapleasing little touch of a German accent. “Did you come to see him? He is downtown. I expect him back every minute.” McMurdocontinuedtogazeatherinopenadmi- rationuntilhereyesdroppedinconfusionbeforethis masterfulvisitor.</s>“No,miss,”hesaidatlast,“I’minnohurrytosee him. But your house was recommended to me for board. Ithoughtitmightsuitme—andnowIknow itwill.” “Youarequicktomakeupyourmind,”saidshe withasmile.</s>“Anyonebutablindmancoulddoasmuch,”the otheranswered.</s>She laughed at the compliment. “Come right in, sir,” she said. “I’m Miss Ettie Shafter, Mr. Shafter’s daughter. My mother’s dead, and I run the house.</s>Youcansitdownbythestoveinthefrontroomuntil father comes along—Ah, here he is! So you can fix thingswithhimrightaway.” Aheavy,elderlymancameploddingupthepath.</s>InafewwordsMcMurdoexplainedhisbusiness. A man of the name of Murphy had given him the ad- dressinChicago. Heinturnhadhaditfromsomeone else. OldShafterwasquiteready. Thestrangermade nobonesaboutterms,agreedatoncetoeverycondi- tion, and was apparently fairly flush of money. For sevendollarsaweekpaidinadvancehewastohave boardandlodging.</s>So it was that McMurdo, the self-confessed fugi- tive from justice, took up his abode under the roof oftheShafters,thefirststepwhichwastoleadtoso longanddarkatrainofevents,endinginafardistant land.CHAP he od T B McMurdowasamanwhomadehismarkquickly.</s>Wherever he was the folk around soon knew it.</s>Within a week he had become infinitely the most important person at Shafter’s. There were ten or a dozenboardersthere;buttheywerehonestforemen orcommonplaceclerksfromthestores,ofaverydif- ferentcalibrefromtheyoungIrishman. Ofanevening whentheygatheredtogetherhisjokewasalwaysthe readiest,hisconversationthebrightest,andhissong thebest. Hewasabornbooncompanion,withamag- netism which drew good humour from all around him.</s>And yet he showed again and again, as he had shownintherailwaycarriage,acapacityforsudden, fierce anger, which compelled the respect and even thefearofthosewhomethim. Forthelaw,too,and allwhowereconnectedwithit,heexhibitedabitter contemptwhichdelightedsomeandalarmedothers ofhisfellowboarders.</s>Fromthefirsthemadeitevident,byhisopenad- miration,thatthedaughterofthehousehadwonhis heartfromtheinstantthathehadseteyesuponher beautyandhergrace. Hewasnobackwardsuitor. On theseconddayhetoldherthathelovedher,andfrom thenonwardherepeatedthesamestorywithanab- solutedisregardofwhatshemightsaytodiscourage him.</s>“Someoneelse?”hewouldcry. “Well, theworse luckforsomeoneelse! Lethimlookoutforhimself! AmItolosemylife’schanceandallmyheart’sdesire for someone else? You can keep on saying no, Ettie: the day will come when you will say yes, and I’m youngenoughtowait.” He was a dangerous suitor, with his glib Irish tongue, and his pretty, coaxing ways. There was about him also that glamour of experience and of mystery which attracts a woman’s interest, and fi- nally her love. He could talk of the sweet valleys of CountyMonaghanfromwhichhecame,ofthelovely, distant island, the low hills and green meadows of whichseemedthemorebeautifulwhenimagination viewedthemfromthisplaceofgrimeandsnow.</s>Thenhewasversedinthelifeofthecitiesofthe North,ofDetroit,andthelumbercampsofMichigan, and finally of Chicago, where he had worked in a planing mill. And afterwards came the hint of ro- mance,thefeelingthatstrangethingshadhappened to him in that great city, so strange and so intimate TER II.</s>ymaster thattheymightnotbespokenof. Hespokewistfully of a sudden leaving, a breaking of old ties, a flight intoastrangeworld,endinginthisdrearyvalley,and Ettielistened,herdarkeyesgleamingwithpityand withsympathy—thosetwoqualitieswhichmayturn sorapidlyandsonaturallytolove.</s>McMurdohadobtainedatemporaryjobasbook- keeper; for he was a well-educated man. This kept himoutmostoftheday,andhehadnotfoundocca- sionyettoreporthimselftotheheadofthelodgeof theEminentOrderofFreemen. Hewasremindedof his omission, however, by a visit one evening from MikeScanlan,thefellowmemberwhomhehadmet inthetrain. Scanlan,thesmall,sharp-faced,nervous, black-eyedman,seemedgladtoseehimoncemore.</s>Afteraglassortwoofwhiskyhebroachedtheobject ofhisvisit.</s>“Say, McMurdo,” said he, “I remembered your address, so l made bold to call. I’m surprised that you’venotreportedtotheBodymaster. Whyhaven’t youseenBossMcGintyyet?” “Well,Ihadtofindajob. Ihavebeenbusy.” “Youmustfindtimeforhimifyouhavenonefor anythingelse. GoodLord,man! you’reafoolnotto havebeendowntotheUnionHouseandregistered yournamethefirstmorningafteryoucamehere! If yourunagainsthim—well,youmustn’t,that’sall!” McMurdo showed mild surprise. “I’ve been a memberofthelodgeforovertwoyears,Scanlan,but Ineverheardthatdutiesweresopressingasallthat.” “MaybenotinChicago.” “Well,it’sthesamesocietyhere.” “Isit?” Scanlanlookedathimlongandfixedly. Therewas somethingsinisterinhiseyes.</s>“Isn’tit?” “You’lltellmethatinamonth’stime. Ihearyou hadatalkwiththepatrolmenafterIleftthetrain.” “Howdidyouknowthat?” “Oh, it got about—things do get about for good andforbadinthisdistrict.” “Well, yes. I told the hounds what I thought of them.” “By the Lord, you’ll be a man after McGinty’s heart!” “What,doeshehatethepolicetoo?”Scanlanburstoutlaughing. “Yougoandseehim, my lad,” said he as he took his leave. “It’s not the policebutyouthathe’llhateifyoudon’t! Now,take afriend’sadviceandgoatonce!” It chanced that on the same evening McMurdo had another more pressing interview which urged himinthesamedirection. Itmayhavebeenthathis attentionstoEttiehadbeenmoreevidentthanbefore, orthattheyhadgraduallyobtrudedthemselvesinto the slow mind of his good German host; but, what- everthecause,theboarding-housekeeperbeckoned theyoungmanintohisprivateroomandstartedon thesubjectwithoutanycircumlocution.</s>“It seems to me, mister,” said he, “that you are gettin’setonmyEttie. Ain’tthatso,oramIwrong?” “Yes,thatisso,”theyoungmananswered.</s>“Vell, I vant to tell you right now that it ain’t no manner of use. There’s someone slipped in afore you.” “Shetoldmeso.” “Vell,youcanlaythatshetoldyoutruth. Butdid shetellyouwhoitvas?” “No,Iaskedher;butshewouldn’ttell.” “I dare say not, the leetle baggage! Perhaps she didnotvishtofrightenyouavay.” “Frighten!”McMurdowasonfireinamoment.</s>“Ah,yes,myfriend! Youneednotbeashamedto befrightenedofhim. ItisTeddyBaldwin.” “Andwhothedevilishe?” “HeisabossofScowrers.” “Scowrers! I’veheardofthembefore. It’sScowr- ershereandScowrersthere,andalwaysinawhisper! Whatareyouallafraidof? WhoaretheScowrers?” Theboarding-housekeeperinstinctivelysankhis voice,aseveryonedidwhotalkedaboutthatterrible society. “The Scowrers,” said he, “are the Eminent OrderofFreemen!” Theyoungmanstared. “Why,Iamamemberof thatordermyself.” “You! IvouldneverhavehadyouinmyhouseifI hadknownit—notifyouveretopaymeahundred dollaraweek.” “What’swrongwiththeorder? It’sforcharityand goodfellowship. Therulessayso.” “Maybeinsomeplaces. Nothere!” “Whatisithere?” “It’samurdersociety,that’svatitis.” McMurdolaughedincredulously. “Howcanyou provethat?”heasked.</s>“Proveit! Aretherenotfiftymurderstoproveit? VataboutMilmanandVanShorst,andtheNicholson family,andoldMr.Hyam,andlittleBillyJames,and theothers? Proveit! Isthereamanoravomaninthis valleyvatdoesnotknowit?” “Seehere!”saidMcMurdoearnestly. “Iwantyou to take back what you’ve said, or else make it good.</s>OneortheotheryoumustdobeforeIquitthisroom.</s>Putyourselfinmyplace. HereamI,astrangerinthe town. I belong to a society that I know only as an innocent one. You’ll find it through the length and breadthoftheStates,butalwaysasaninnocentone.</s>Now, whenIamcountinguponjoiningithere, you tellmethatitisthesameasamurdersocietycalled theScowrers. Iguessyouowemeeitheranapology orelseanexplanation,Mr.Shafter.” “Icanbuttellyouvatthewholevorldknows,mis- ter. Thebossesoftheonearethebossesoftheother.</s>Ifyouoffendtheone,itistheothervatvillstrikeyou.</s>Wehaveprovedittoooften.” “That’sjustgossip—Iwantproof!”saidMcMurdo.</s>“Ifyouliveherelongyouvillgetyourproof. ButI forgetthatyouareyourselfoneofthem. Youvillsoon beasbadastherest. Butyouvillfindotherlodgings, mister. Icannothaveyouhere. Isitnotbadenough thatoneofthesepeoplecomecourtingmyEttie,and thatIdarenotturnhimdown,butthatIshouldhave another for my boarder? Yes, indeed, you shall not sleephereafterto-night!” McMurdo found himself under sentence of ban- ishmentbothfromhiscomfortablequartersandfrom the girl whom he loved. He found her alone in the sitting-room that same evening, and he poured his troublesintoherear.</s>“Sure, your father is after giving me notice,” he said. “It’s little I would care if it was just my room, but indeed, Ettie, though it’s only a week that I’ve knownyou,youaretheverybreathoflifetome,and Ican’tlivewithoutyou!” “Oh, hush, Mr. McMurdo, don’t speak so!” said the girl. “I have told you, have I not, that you are toolate? Thereisanother,andifIhavenotpromised to marry him at once, at least I can promise no one else.” “SupposeIhadbeenfirst,Ettie,wouldIhavehad achance?” The girl sank her face into her hands. “I wish to heaventhatyouhadbeenfirst!”shesobbed.</s>McMurdowasdownonhiskneesbeforeherinan instant. “ForGod’ssake,Ettie,letitstandatthat!”hecried. “Will you ruin your life and my own for the sakeofthispromise? Followyourheart,acushla! ’Tis asaferguidethananypromisebeforeyouknewwhat itwasthatyouweresaying.” HehadseizedEttie’swhitehandbetweenhisown strongbrownones.</s>“Saythatyouwillbemine,andwewillfaceitout together!” “Nothere?” “Yes,here.” “No,no,Jack!”Hisarmswereroundhernow. “It couldnotbehere. Couldyoutakemeaway?” AstrugglepassedforamomentoverMcMurdo’s face;butitendedbysettinglikegranite. “No,here,” hesaid. “I’llholdyouagainsttheworld,Ettie,right herewhereweare!” “Whyshouldwenotleavetogether?” “No,Ettie,Ican’tleavehere.” “Butwhy?” “I’d never hold my head up again if I felt that I had been driven out. Besides, what is there to be afraid of? Are we not free folks in a free country? If you love me, and I you, who will dare to come between?” “Youdon’tknow,Jack. You’vebeenheretooshort atime. Youdon’tknowthisBaldwin. Youdon’tknow McGintyandhisScowrers.” “No, I don’t know them, and I don’t fear them, and I don’t believe in them!” said McMurdo. “I’ve lived among rough men, my darling, and instead of fearing them it has always ended that they have fearedme—always,Ettie. It’smadonthefaceofit! If thesemen,asyourfathersays,havedonecrimeafter crime in the valley, and if everyone knows them by name,howcomesitthatnonearebroughttojustice? Youanswermethat,Ettie!” “Becausenowitnessdarestoappearagainstthem.</s>He would not live a month if he did. Also because they have always their own men to swear that the accusedonewasfarfromthesceneofthecrime. But surely, Jack, you must have read all this. I had un- derstood that every paper in the United States was writingaboutit.” “Well,Ihavereadsomething,itistrue;butIhad thoughtitwasastory. Maybethesemenhavesome reasoninwhattheydo. Maybetheyarewrongedand havenootherwaytohelpthemselves.” “Oh,Jack,don’tletmehearyouspeakso! Thatis howhespeaks—theotherone!” “Baldwin—hespeakslikethat,doeshe?” “AndthatiswhyIloathehimso. Oh,Jack,nowI cantellyouthetruth. Iloathehimwithallmyheart; butIfearhimalso. Ifearhimformyself;butaboveall Ifearhimforfather. Iknowthatsomegreatsorrow wouldcomeuponusifIdaredtosaywhatIreallyfelt.</s>ThatiswhyIhaveputhimoffwithhalf-promises. It wasinrealtruthouronlyhope. Butifyouwouldfly withme,Jack,wecouldtakefatherwithusandlive foreverfarfromthepowerofthesewickedmen.” Again there was the struggle upon McMurdo’s face, and again it set like granite. “No harm shall come to you, Ettie—nor to your father either. As to wickedmen,IexpectyoumayfindthatIamasbad astheworstofthembeforewe’rethrough.” “No,no,Jack! Iwouldtrustyouanywhere.” McMurdolaughedbitterly. “GoodLord! howlit- tleyouknowofme! Yourinnocentsoul,mydarling, could not even guess what is passing in mine. But, hullo,who’sthevisitor?” Thedoorhadopenedsuddenly,andayoungfel- low came swaggering in with the air of one who is themaster. Hewasahandsome,dashingyoungman ofaboutthesameageandbuildasMcMurdohimself.</s>Under his broad-brimmed black felt hat, which he had not troubled to remove, a handsome face with fierce,domineeringeyesandacurvedhawk-billofa noselookedsavagelyatthepairwhosatbythestove.</s>Ettiehadjumpedtoherfeetfullofconfusionand alarm. “I’mgladtoseeyou,Mr.Baldwin,”saidshe.</s>“You’re earlier than I had thought. Come and sit down.” Baldwinstoodwithhishandsonhishipslooking atMcMurdo. “Whoisthis?”heaskedcurtly.</s>“It’safriendofmine,Mr.Baldwin,anewboarder here. Mr.McMurdo,mayIintroduceyoutoMr.Bald- win?” The young men nodded in surly fashion to each other.</s>“MaybeMissEttiehastoldyouhowitiswithus?” saidBaldwin.</s>“I didn’t understand that there was any relation betweenyou.” “Didn’t you? Well, you can understand it now.</s>Youcantakeitfrommethatthisyoungladyismine, andyou’llfinditaveryfineeveningforawalk.” “Thankyou,Iaminnohumourforawalk.” “Aren’tyou?”Theman’ssavageeyeswereblazing withanger. “Maybeyouareinahumourforafight, Mr.Boarder!”“ThatIam!”criedMcMurdo,springingtohisfeet.</s>“Youneversaidamorewelcomeword.” “ForGod’ssake,Jack! Oh,forGod’ssake!”cried poor, distracted Ettie. “Oh, Jack, Jack, he will hurt you!” “Oh, it’s Jack, is it?” said Baldwin with an oath.</s>“You’vecometothatalready,haveyou?” “Oh, Ted, be reasonable—be kind! For my sake, Ted,ifeveryoulovedme,bebig-heartedandforgiv- ing!” “Ithink,Ettie,thatifyouweretoleaveusalonewe could get this thing settled,” said McMurdo quietly.</s>“Ormaybe,Mr.Baldwin,youwilltakeaturndown the street with me. It’s a fine evening, and there’s someopengroundbeyondthenextblock.” “I’ll get even with you without needing to dirty my hands,” said his enemy. “You’ll wish you had neversetfootinthishousebeforeIamthroughwith you!” “Notimelikethepresent,”criedMcMurdo.</s>“I’ll choose my own time, mister. You can leave thetimetome. Seehere!”Hesuddenlyrolleduphis sleeveandshoweduponhisforearmapeculiarsign which appeared to have been branded there. It was acirclewithatrianglewithinit. “D’youknowwhat thatmeans?” “Ineitherknownorcare!” “Well, you will know, I’ll promise you that. You won’t be much older, either. Perhaps Miss Ettie can tell you something about it. As to you, Ettie, you’ll comebacktomeonyourknees—d’yehear,girl?—on yourknees—andthenI’lltellyouwhatyourpunish- ment may be. You’ve sowed—and by the Lord, I’ll seethatyoureap!”Heglancedatthembothinfury.</s>Thenheturneduponhisheel,andaninstantlaterthe outerdoorhadbangedbehindhim.</s>ForafewmomentsMcMurdoandthegirlstood insilence. Thenshethrewherarmsaroundhim.</s>“Oh, Jack, how brave you were! But it is no use, youmustfly! To-night—Jack—to-night! It’syouronly hope. Hewillhaveyourlife. Ireaditinhishorrible eyes. Whatchancehaveyouagainstadozenofthem, with Boss McGinty and all the power of the lodge behindthem?” McMurdodisengagedherhands,kissedher,and gentlypushedherbackintoachair. “There,acushla, there! Don’tbedisturbedorfearforme. I’maFree- man myself. I’m after telling your father about it.</s>MaybeIamnobetterthantheothers;sodon’tmake asaintofme. Perhapsyouhatemetoo,nowthatI’ve toldyouasmuch?” “Hate you, Jack? While life lasts I could never do that! I’ve heard that there is no harm in being a Freeman anywhere but here; so why should I think theworseofyouforthat? ButifyouareaFreeman, Jack,whyshouldyounotgodownandmakeafriend of Boss McGinty? Oh, hurry, Jack, hurry! Get your wordinfirst,orthehoundswillbeonyourtrail.” “Iwasthinkingthe samething,”saidMcMurdo.</s>“I’ll go right now and fix it. You can tell your fa- therthatI’llsleephereto-nightandfindsomeother quartersinthemorning.” ThebarofMcGinty’ssaloonwascrowdedasusual, foritwasthefavouriteloafingplaceofalltherougher elements of the town. The man was popular; for he hadarough,jovialdispositionwhichformedamask, coveringagreatdealwhichlaybehindit. Butapart from this popularity, the fear in which he was held throughoutthetownship,andindeeddownthewhole thirtymilesofthevalleyandpastthemountainson eachsideofit,wasenoughinitselftofillhisbar;for nonecouldaffordtoneglecthisgoodwill.</s>Besidesthosesecretpowerswhichitwasuniver- sallybelievedthatheexercisedinsopitilessafashion, he was a high public official, a municipal council- lor,andacommissionerofroads,electedtotheoffice throughthevotesoftheruffianswhointurnexpected toreceivefavoursathishands. Assessmentsandtaxes were enormous; the public works were notoriously neglected,theaccountswereslurredoverbybribed auditors, and the decent citizen was terrorized into payingpublicblackmail,andholdinghistonguelest someworsethingbefallhim.</s>Thus it was that, year by year, Boss McGinty’s diamondpinsbecamemoreobtrusive,hisgoldchains moreweightyacrossamoregorgeousvest,andhissa- loonstretchedfartherandfarther,untilitthreatened toabsorbonewholesideoftheMarketSquare.</s>McMurdopushedopentheswingingdoorofthe saloon and made his way amid the crowd of men within,throughanatmosphereblurredwithtobacco smokeandheavywiththesmellofspirits. Theplace wasbrilliantlylighted,andthehuge,heavilygiltmir- rors upon every wall reflected and multiplied the garish illumination. There were several bartenders intheirshirtsleeves,hardatworkmixingdrinksfor the loungers who fringed the broad, brass-trimmed counter.</s>Atthefarend,withhisbodyrestinguponthebar and a cigar stuck at an acute angle from the cornerof his mouth, stood a tall, strong, heavily built man who could be none other than the famous McGinty himself. Hewasablack-manedgiant,beardedtothe cheek-bones, and with a shock of raven hair which fell to his collar. His complexion was as swarthy as thatofanItalian,andhiseyeswereofastrangedead black, which, combined with a slight squint, gave themaparticularlysinisterappearance.</s>Allelseintheman—hisnobleproportions,hisfine features, and his frank bearing—fitted in with that jovial,man-to-manmannerwhichheaffected. Here, onewouldsay,isabluff,honestfellow,whoseheart wouldbesoundhoweverrudehisoutspokenwords mightseem. Itwasonlywhenthosedead,darkeyes, deepandremorseless,wereturneduponamanthat heshrankwithinhimself,feelingthathewasfaceto facewithaninfinitepossibilityoflatentevil,witha strength and courage and cunning behind it which madeitathousandtimesmoredeadly.</s>Having had a good look at his man, McMurdo elbowedhiswayforwardwithhisusualcarelessau- dacity,andpushedhimselfthroughthelittlegroupof courtierswhowerefawninguponthepowerfulboss, laughinguproariouslyatthesmallestofhisjokes. The youngstranger’sboldgrayeyeslookedbackfearlessly throughtheirglassesatthedeadlyblackoneswhich turnedsharplyuponhim.</s>“Well,youngman,Ican’tcallyourfacetomind.” “I’mnewhere,Mr.McGinty.” “Youarenotsonewthatyoucan’tgiveagentle- manhispropertitle.” “He’s Councillor McGinty, young man,” said a voicefromthegroup.</s>“I’msorry,Councillor. I’mstrangetothewaysof theplace. ButIwasadvisedtoseeyou.” “Well,youseeme. Thisisallthereis. Whatd’you thinkofme?” “Well, it’s early days. If your heart is as big as yourbody,andyoursoulasfineasyourface,thenI’d askfornothingbetter,”saidMcMurdo.</s>“ByGar! you’vegotanIrishtongueinyourhead anyhow,” cried the saloon-keeper, not quite certain whethertohumourthisaudaciousvisitorortostand uponhisdignity.</s>“Soyouaregoodenoughtopassmyappearance?” “Sure,”saidMcMurdo.</s>“Andyouweretoldtoseeme?” “Iwas.” “Andwhotoldyou?” “BrotherScanlanofLodge341,Vermissa. Idrink your health Councillor, and to our better acquain- tance.” He raised a glass with which he had been served to his lips and elevated his little finger as he drankit.</s>McGinty, who had been watching him narrowly, raisedhisthickblackeyebrows. “Oh,it’slikethat,is it?” said he. “I’ll have to look a bit closer into this, Mister—” “McMurdo.” “A bit closer, Mr. McMurdo; for we don’t take folkontrustintheseparts,norbelieveallwe’retold neither. Comeinhereforamoment,behindthebar.” Therewasasmallroomthere,linedwithbarrels.</s>McGinty carefully closed the door, and then seated himself on one of them, biting thoughtfully on his cigar and surveying his companion with those dis- quietingeyes. Foracoupleofminuteshesatincom- pletesilence. McMurdoboretheinspectioncheerfully, one hand in his coat pocket, the other twisting his brown moustache. Suddenly McGinty stooped and producedawicked-lookingrevolver.</s>“See here, my joker,” said he, “if I thought you wereplayinganygameonus,itwouldbeshortwork foryou.” “Thisisastrangewelcome,”McMurdoanswered withsomedignity,“fortheBodymasterofalodgeof Freementogivetoastrangerbrother.” “Ay,butit’sjustthatsamethatyouhavetoprove,” saidMcGinty,“andGodhelpyouifyoufail! Where wereyoumade?” “Lodge29,Chicago.” “When?” “June24,1872.” “WhatBodymaster?” “JamesH.Scott.” “Whoisyourdistrictruler?” “BartholomewWilson.” “Hum! Youseemglibenoughinyourtests. What areyoudoinghere?” “Working,thesameasyou—butapoorerjob.” “Youhaveyourbackanswerquickenough.” “Yes,Iwasalwaysquickofspeech.” “Areyouquickofaction?” “Ihavehadthatnameamongthosethatknewme best.” “Well, we may try you sooner than you think.</s>Haveyouheardanythingofthelodgeintheseparts?” “I’veheardthatittakesamantobeabrother.”“Trueforyou,Mr.McMurdo. Whydidyouleave Chicago?” “I’mdamnedifItellyouthat!” McGinty opened his eyes. He was not used to beingansweredinsuchfashion,anditamusedhim.</s>“Whywon’tyoutellme?” “Becausenobrothermaytellanotheralie.” “Thenthetruthistoobadtotell?” “Youcanputitthatwayifyoulike.” “See here, mister, you can’t expect me, as Body- master, topassintothelodgeamanforwhosepast hecan’tanswer.” McMurdolookedpuzzled. Thenhetookaworn newspapercuttingfromaninnerpocket.</s>“Youwouldn’tsquealonafellow?”saidhe.</s>“I’llwipemyhandacrossyourfaceifyousaysuch wordstome!”criedMcGintyhotly.</s>“Youareright,Councillor,”saidMcMurdomeekly.</s>“I should apologize. I spoke without thought. Well, I know that I am safe in your hands. Look at that clipping.” McGintyglancedhiseyesovertheaccountofthe shootingofoneJonasPinto,intheLakeSaloon,Mar- ketStreet,Chicago,intheNewYearweekof1874.</s>“Your work?” he asked, as he handed back the paper.</s>McMurdonodded.</s>“Whydidyoushoothim?” “IwashelpingUncleSamtomakedollars. Maybe mine were not as good gold as his, but they looked as well and were cheaper to make. This man Pinto helpedmetoshovethequeer—” “Todowhat?” “Well,itmeanstopassthedollarsoutintocircula- tion. Thenhesaidhewouldsplit. Maybehedidsplit.</s>Ididn’twaittosee. Ijustkilledhimandlightedout forthecoalcountry.” “Whythecoalcountry?” “’Cause I’d read in the papers that they weren’t tooparticularinthoseparts.” McGinty laughed. “You were first a coiner and thenamurderer,andyoucametothesepartsbecause youthoughtyou’dbewelcome.” “That’saboutthesizeofit,”McMurdoanswered.</s>“Well, I guess you’ll go far. Say, can you make thosedollarsyet?” McMurdo took half a dozen from his pocket.</s>“ThoseneverpassedthePhiladelphiamint,”saidhe.</s>“Youdon’tsay!”McGintyheldthemtothelightin hisenormoushand,whichwashairyasagorilla’s. “I canseenodifference. Gar! you’llbeamightyuseful brother,I’mthinking! Wecandowithabadmanor twoamongus,FriendMcMurdo: fortherearetimes when we have to take our own part. We’d soon be againstthewallifwedidn’tshovebackatthosethat werepushingus.” “Well,IguessI’lldomyshareofshovingwiththe restoftheboys.” “You seem to have a good nerve. You didn’t squirmwhenIshovedthisgunatyou.” “Itwasnotmethatwasindanger.” “Whothen?” “Itwasyou,Councillor.”McMurdodrewacocked pistol from the side pocket of his peajacket. “I was coveringyouallthetime. Iguessmyshotwouldhave beenasquickasyours.” “ByGar!”McGintyflushedanangryredandthen burstintoaroaroflaughter. “Say,we’vehadnosuch holyterrorcometohandthismanyayear. Ireckon thelodgewilllearntobeproudofyou... Well,what thehelldoyouwant? Andcan’tIspeakalonewitha gentleman forfive minutes butyou mustbutt in on us?” The bartender stood abashed. “I’m sorry, Coun- cillor,butit’sTedBaldwin. Hesayshemustseeyou thisveryminute.” The message was unnecessary; for the set, cruel faceofthemanhimselfwaslookingovertheservant’s shoulder. He pushed the bartender out and closed thedooronhim.</s>“So,”saidhewithafuriousglanceatMcMurdo, “yougotherefirst,didyou? I’veawordtosaytoyou, Councillor,aboutthisman.” “Thensayithereandnowbeforemyface,”cried McMurdo.</s>“I’llsayitatmyowntime,inmyownway.” “Tut! Tut!” said McGinty, getting off his barrel.</s>“This will never do. We have a new brother here, Baldwin,andit’snotforustogreethiminsuchfash- ion. Holdoutyourhand,man,andmakeitup!” “Never!”criedBaldwininafury.</s>“I’ve offered to fight him if he thinks I have wronged him,” said McMurdo. “I’ll fight him with fists, or, if that won’t satisfy him, I’ll fight him any otherwayhechooses. Now,I’llleaveittoyou,Coun- cillor,tojudgebetweenusasaBodymastershould.” “Whatisit,then?”“Ayounglady. She’sfreetochooseforherself.” “Isshe?”criedBaldwin.</s>“As between two brothers of the lodge I should saythatshewas,”saidtheBoss.</s>“Oh,that’syourruling,isit?” “Yes, it is, Ted Baldwin,” said McGinty, with a wickedstare. “Isityouthatwoulddisputeit?” “Youwouldthrowoveronethathasstoodbyyou thisfiveyearsinfavourofamanthatyouneversaw before in your life? You’re not Bodymaster for life, JackMcGinty, andbyGod! whennextitcomestoa vote—” The Councillor sprang at him like a tiger. His hand closed round the other’s neck, and he hurled himbackacrossoneofthebarrels. Inhismadfuryhe wouldhavesqueezedthelifeoutofhimifMcMurdo hadnotinterfered.</s>“Easy,Councillor! Forheaven’ssake,goeasy!”he cried,ashedraggedhimback.</s>McGinty released his hold, and Baldwin, cowed andshakengaspingforbreath,andshiveringinevery limb, as one who has looked over the very edge of death, sat up on the barrel over which he had been hurled.</s>“You’ve been asking for it this many a day, Ted Baldwin—nowyou’vegotit!”criedMcGinty,hishuge chest rising and falling. “Maybe you think if I was voteddownfromBodymasteryouwouldfindyour- selfinmyshoes. It’sforthelodgetosaythat. Butso long as I am the chief I’ll have no man lift his voice againstmeormyrulings.” “Ihavenothingagainstyou,”mumbledBaldwin, feelinghisthroat.</s>“Well, then,” cried the other, relapsing in a mo- ment into a bluff joviality, “we are all good friends againandthere’sanendofthematter.” He took a bottle of champagne down from the shelfandtwistedoutthecork.</s>“See now,” he continued, as he filled three high glasses. “Let us drink the quarrelling toast of the lodge. After that, as you know, there can be no bad blood between us. Now, then the left hand on the appleofmythroat. Isaytoyou,TedBaldwin,what istheoffense,sir?” “Thecloudsareheavy,”answeredBaldwin.</s>“Buttheywillforeverbrighten.” “AndthisIswear!” The men drank their glasses, and the same cer- emony was performed between Baldwin and Mc- Murdo “There!” cried McGinty, rubbing his hands.</s>“That’stheendoftheblackblood. Youcomeunder lodgedisciplineifitgoesfurther,andthat’saheavy handintheseparts,asBrotherBaldwinknows—and asyouwilldamnsoonfindout,BrotherMcMurdo,if youaskfortrouble!” “Faith,I’dbeslowtodothat,”saidMcMurdo. He heldouthishandtoBaldwin. “I’mquicktoquarrel andquicktoforgive. It’smyhotIrishblood,theytell me. Butit’soverforme,andIbearnogrudge.” Baldwin had to take the proffered hand, for the balefuleyeoftheterribleBosswasuponhim. Buthis sullenfaceshowedhowlittlethewordsoftheother hadmovedhim.</s>McGinty clapped them both on the shoulders.</s>“Tut! These girls! These girls!” he cried. “To think that the same petticoats should come between two of my boys! It’s the devil’s own luck! Well, it’s the colleen inside of them that must settle the question forit’soutsidethejurisdictionofaBodymaster—and the Lord be praised for that! We have enough on us, without the women as well. You’ll have to be affiliated to Lodge 341, Brother McMurdo. We have ourownwaysandmethods,differentfromChicago.</s>Saturdaynightisourmeeting,andifyoucomethen, we’llmakeyoufreeforeveroftheVermissaValley.”CHAP odge 341 L Onthedayfollowingtheeveningwhichhadcon- tained so many exciting events, McMurdo moved his lodgings from old Jacob Shafter’s and took up his quarters at the Widow MacNamara’s on the ex- treme outskirts of the town. Scanlan, his original acquaintance aboard the train, had occasion shortly afterwardstomoveintoVermissa,andthetwolodged together. Therewasnootherboarder,andthehostess wasaneasy-goingoldIrishwomanwholeftthemto themselves;sothattheyhadafreedomforspeechand actionwelcometomenwhohadsecretsincommon.</s>Shafter had relented to the extent of letting Mc- Murdocometohismealstherewhenheliked;sothat his intercourse with Ettie was by no means broken.</s>Onthecontrary,itdrewcloserandmoreintimateas theweekswentby.</s>InhisbedroomathisnewabodeMcMurdofeltit safetotakeoutthecoiningmoulds,andundermany a pledge of secrecy a number of brothers from the lodge were allowed to come in and see them, each carrying away in his pocket some examples of the falsemoney,socunninglystruckthattherewasnever the slightest difficulty or danger in passing it. Why, withsuchawonderfulartathiscommand,McMurdo should condescend to work at all was a perpetual mysterytohiscompanions;thoughhemadeitclear toanyonewhoaskedhimthatifhelivedwithoutany visiblemeansitwouldveryquicklybringthepolice uponhistrack.</s>Onepolicemanwasindeedafterhimalready;but theincident,asluckwouldhaveit,didtheadventurer agreatdealmoregoodthanharm. Afterthefirstin- troductiontherewerefeweveningswhenhedidnot findhiswaytoMcGinty’ssaloon,theretomakecloser acquaintance with “the boys,” which was the jovial titlebywhichthedangerousgangwhoinfestedthe placewereknowntooneanother. Hisdashingman- nerandfearlessnessofspeechmadehimafavourite with them all; while the rapid and scientific way in which he polished off his antagonist in an “all in” bar-roomscrapearnedtherespectofthatroughcom- munity. Anotherincident,however,raisedhimeven higherintheirestimation.</s>Just at the crowded hour one night, the door opened and a man entered with the quiet blue uni- form and peaked cap of the mine police. This was a special body raised by the railways and colliery ownerstosupplementtheeffortsoftheordinarycivil TER III.</s>ermissa , V police,whowereperfectlyhelplessinthefaceofthe organized ruffianism which terrorized the district.</s>There was a hush as he entered, and many a curi- ousglancewascastathim;buttherelationsbetween policemen and criminals are peculiar in some parts oftheStates,andMcGintyhimselfstandingbehind hiscounter,showednosurprisewhenthepoliceman enrolledhimselfamonghiscustomers.</s>“A straight whisky, for the night is bitter,” said thepoliceofficer. “Idon’tthinkwehavemetbefore, Councillor?” “You’llbethenewcaptain?”saidMcGinty.</s>“That’sso. We’relookingtoyou,Councillor,and totheotherleadingcitizens,tohelpusinupholding law and order in this township. Captain Marvin is myname.” “We’d do better without you, Captain Marvin,” saidMcGintycoldly;“forwehaveourownpoliceof the township, and no need for any imported goods.</s>Whatareyoubutthepaidtoolofthecapitalists,hired bythemtocluborshootyourpoorerfellowcitizen?” “Well,well,wewon’targueaboutthat,”saidthe policeofficergood-humouredly. “Iexpectwealldo ourdutysameasweseeit;butwecan’tallseeitthe same.”Hehaddrunkoffhisglassandhadturnedto go,whenhiseyesfelluponthefaceofJackMcMurdo, who was scowling at his elbow. “Hullo! Hullo!” he cried, looking him up and down. “Here’s an old acquaintance!” McMurdoshrankawayfromhim. “Iwasnevera friendtoyounoranyothercursedcopperinmylife,” saidhe.</s>“Anacquaintanceisn’talwaysafriend,”saidthe police captain, grinning. “You’re Jack McMurdo of Chicago,rightenough,anddon’tyoudenyit!” McMurdoshruggedhisshoulders. “I’mnotdeny- ingit,”saidhe. “D’yethinkI’mashamedofmyown name?” “You’vegotgoodcausetobe,anyhow.” “Whatthedevild’youmeanbythat?”heroared withhisfistsclenched.</s>“No,no,Jack,blusterwon’tdowithme. Iwasan officer in Chicago before ever I came to this darned coalbunker,andIknowaChicagocrookwhenIsee one.” McMurdo’s face fell. “Don’t tell me that you’re MarvinoftheChicagoCentral!”hecried.“JustthesameoldTeddyMarvin,atyourservice.</s>Wehaven’tforgottentheshootingofJonasPintoup there.” “Inevershothim.” “Did you not? That’s good impartial evidence, ain’t it? Well, his death came in uncommon handy foryou,ortheywouldhavehadyouforshovingthe queer. Well,wecanletthatbebygones;for,between youandme—andperhapsI’mgoingfurtherthanmy dutyinsayingit—theycouldgetnoclearcaseagainst you,andChicago’sopentoyouto-morrow.” “I’mverywellwhereIam.” “Well, I’ve given you the pointer, and you’re a sulkydognottothankmeforit.” “Well, I suppose you mean well, and I do thank you,”saidMcMurdoinnoverygraciousmanner.</s>“It’smumwithmesolongasIseeyoulivingon the straight,” said the captain. “But, by the Lord! if yougetoffafterthis,it’sanotherstory! Sogood-night toyou—andgoodnight,Councillor.” Heleftthebar-room;butnotbeforehehadcreated a local hero. McMurdo’s deeds in far Chicago had beenwhisperedbefore. Hehadputoffallquestions withasmile,asonewhodidnotwishtohavegreat- nessthrustuponhim. Butnowthethingwasofficially confirmed. Thebarloaferscrowdedroundhimand shook him heartily by the hand. He was free of the communityfromthattimeon. Hecoulddrinkhard and show little trace of it; but that evening, had his mateScanlannotbeenathandtoleadhimhome,the feted hero would surely have spent his night under thebar.</s>OnaSaturdaynightMcMurdowasintroducedto the lodge. He had thought to pass in without cere- monyasbeinganinitiateofChicago;buttherewere particularritesinVermissaofwhichtheywereproud, and these had to be undergone by every postulant.</s>Theassemblymetinalargeroomreservedforsuch purposes at the Union House. Some sixty members assembled at Vermissa; but that by no means repre- sentedthefullstrengthoftheorganization,forthere were several other lodges in the valley, and others across the mountains on each side, who exchanged memberswhenanyseriousbusinesswasafoot,sothat acrimemightbedonebymenwhowerestrangersto thelocality. Altogethertherewerenotlessthanfive hundredscatteredoverthecoaldistrict.</s>Inthebareassemblyroomthemenweregathered round a long table. At the side was a second one ladenwithbottlesandglasses,onwhichsomemem- bersofthecompanywerealreadyturningtheireyes.</s>McGinty sat at the head with a flat black velvet cap uponhisshockoftangledblackhair,andacoloured purplestoleroundhisneck,sothatheseemedtobea priestpresidingoversomediabolicalritual. Toright and left of him were the higher lodge officials, the cruel, handsome face of Ted Baldwin among them.</s>Eachoftheseworesomescarformedallionasemblem ofhisoffice.</s>Theywere,forthemostpart,menofmatureage; buttherestofthecompanyconsistedofyoungfellows fromeighteentotwenty-five,thereadyandcapable agentswhocarriedoutthecommandsoftheirseniors.</s>Among the older men were many whose features showed the tigerish, lawless souls within; but look- ingattherankandfileitwasdifficulttobelievethat these eager and open-faced young fellows were in very truth a dangerous gang of murderers, whose mindshadsufferedsuchcompletemoralperversion thattheytookahorribleprideintheirproficiencyat thebusiness,andlookedwithdeepestrespectatthe man who had the reputation of making what they called“acleanjob.” Totheircontortednaturesithadbecomeaspirited andchivalrousthingtovolunteerforserviceagainst somemanwhohadneverinjuredthem, andwhom inmanycasestheyhadneverseenintheirlives. The crime committed, they quarrelled as to who had ac- tuallystruckthefatalblow,andamusedoneanother andthecompanybydescribingthecriesandcontor- tionsofthemurderedman.</s>At first they had shown some secrecy in their arrangements;butatthetimewhichthisnarrativede- scribestheirproceedingswereextraordinarilyopen, for the repeated failures of the law had proved to them that, on the one hand, no one would dare to witness against them, and on the other they had an unlimited number of stanch witnesses upon whom theycouldcall,andawell-filledtreasurechestfrom whichtheycoulddrawthefundstoengagethebest legaltalentinthestate. Intenlongyearsofoutrage therehadbeennosingleconviction,andtheonlydan- gerthateverthreatenedtheScowrerslayinthevictim himself—who, however outnumbered and taken by surprise,mightandoccasionallydidleavehismark uponhisassailants.</s>McMurdohadbeenwarnedthatsomeordeallay before him; but no one would tell him in what it consisted. He was led now into an outer room by two solemn brothers. Through the plank partition he could hear the murmur of many voices from the assemblywithin. Onceortwicehecaughtthesoundof his own name, and he knew that they were dis- cussing his candidacy. Then there entered an inner guardwithagreenandgoldsashacrosshischest.</s>“TheBodymasterordersthatheshallbetrussed, blinded,andentered,”saidhe.</s>The three of them removed his coat, turned up thesleeveofhisrightarm,andfinallypassedarope roundabovetheelbowsandmadeitfast. Theynext placedathickblackcaprightoverhisheadandthe upper part of his face, so that he could see nothing.</s>Hewasthenledintotheassemblyhall.</s>It was pitch dark and very oppressive under his hood. Heheardtherustleandmurmurofthepeople roundhim,andthenthevoiceofMcGintysounded dullanddistantthroughthecoveringofhisears.</s>“JohnMcMurdo,”saidthevoice,“areyoualready amemberoftheAncientOrderofFreemen?” Hebowedinassent.</s>“IsyourlodgeNo.29,Chicago?” Hebowedagain.</s>“Darknightsareunpleasant,”saidthevoice.</s>“Yes,forstrangerstotravel,”heanswered.</s>“Thecloudsareheavy.” “Yes,astormisapproaching.” “Arethebrethrensatisfied?”askedtheBodymas- ter.</s>Therewasageneralmurmurofassent.</s>“Weknow,Brother,byyoursignandbyyourcoun- tersignthatyouareindeedoneofus,”saidMcGinty.</s>“We would have you know, however, that in this countyandinothercountiesofthesepartswehave certainrites,andalsocertaindutiesofourownwhich callforgoodmen. Areyoureadytobetested?” “Iam.” “Areyouofstoutheart?” “Iam.” “Takeastrideforwardtoproveit.” As the words were said he felt two hard points in front of his eyes, pressing upon them so that it appeared as if he could not move forward without a danger of losing them. None the less, he nerved himself to step resolutely out, and as he did so the pressure melted away. There was a low murmur of applause.</s>“He is of stout heart,” said the voice. “Can you bearpain?” “Aswellasanother,”heanswered.</s>“Testhim!” Itwasallhecoulddotokeephimselffromscream- ingout,foranagonizingpainshotthroughhisfore- arm. He nearly fainted at the sudden shock of it; buthebithislipandclenchedhishandstohidehis agony.</s>“Icantakemorethanthat,”saidhe.</s>This time there was loud applause. A finer first appearancehadneverbeenmadeinthelodge. Hands clappedhimontheback,andthehoodwasplucked fromhishead. Hestoodblinkingandsmilingamid thecongratulationsofthebrothers.</s>“Onelastword,BrotherMcMurdo,”saidMcGinty.</s>“You have already sworn the oath of secrecy and fi- delity,andyouareawarethatthepunishmentforany breachofitisinstantandinevitabledeath?” “Iam,”saidMcMurdo.</s>“And you accept the rule of the Bodymaster for thetimebeingunderallcircumstances?” “Ido.” “TheninthenameofLodge341,Vermissa,Iwel- comeyoutoitsprivilegesanddebates. Youwillput theliquoronthetable,BrotherScanlan,andwewill drinktoourworthybrother.” McMurdo’s coat had been brought to him; but beforeputtingitonheexaminedhisrightarm,which stillsmartedheavily. Thereonthefleshoftheforearm was a circle with a triangle within it, deep and red, as the branding iron had left it. One or two of his neighbourspulleduptheirsleevesandshowedtheir ownlodgemarks.</s>“We’veallhadit,”saidone;“butnotallasbrave asyouoverit.” “Tut! Itwasnothing,”saidhe;butitburnedand achedallthesame.</s>Whenthedrinkswhichfollowedtheceremonyof initiationhadallbeendisposedof,thebusinessofthe lodgeproceeded. McMurdo,accustomedonlytothe prosaicperformancesofChicago,listenedwithopen earsandmoresurprisethanheventuredtoshowto whatfollowed.</s>“The first business on the agenda paper,” said McGinty, “is to read the following letter from Divi- sionMasterWindleofMertonCountyLodge249. He says:“DearSir: “There is a job to be done on Andrew RaeofRae&Sturmash,coalownersnear this place. You will remember that your lodge owes us a return, having had the service of two brethren in the matter of thepatrolmanlastfall. Youwillsendtwo good men, they will be taken charge of byTreasurerHigginsofthislodge,whose address you know. He will show them whentoactandwhere. Yoursinfreedom, —“J.W.WindleD.M.A.O.F.</s>“Windlehasneverrefuseduswhenwehavehad occasiontoaskfortheloanofamanortwo,anditis notforustorefusehim.”McGintypausedandlooked roundtheroomwithhisdull,malevolenteyes. “Who willvolunteerforthejob?” Several young fellows held up their hands. The Bodymasterlookedatthemwithanapprovingsmile.</s>“You’lldo,TigerCormac. Ifyouhandleitaswell as you did the last, you won’t be wrong. And you, Wilson.” “I’venopistol,”saidthevolunteer,amereboyin histeens.</s>“It’s your first, is it not? Well, you have to be blooded some time. It will be a great start for you.</s>Astothepistol,you’llfinditwaitingforyou,orI’m mistaken. IfyoureportyourselvesonMonday,itwill betimeenough. You’llgetagreatwelcomewhenyou return.” “Any reward this time?” asked Cormac, a thick- set, dark-faced, brutal-looking young man, whose ferocityhadearnedhimthenicknameof“Tiger.” “Never mind the reward. You just do it for the honourofthething. Maybewhenitisdonetherewill beafewodddollarsatthebottomofthebox.” “Whathasthemandone?”askedyoungWilson.</s>“Sure,it’snotforthelikesofyoutoaskwhatthe manhasdone. Hehasbeenjudgedoverthere. That’s no business of ours. All we have to do is to carry it out for them, same as they would for us. Speaking ofthat,twobrothersfromtheMertonlodgearecom- ingovertousnextweektodosomebusinessinthis quarter.” “Whoarethey?”askedsomeone.</s>“Faith,itiswisernottoask. Ifyouknownothing, youcantestifynothing,andnotroublecancomeof it. Buttheyaremenwhowillmakeacleanjobwhen theyareaboutit.” “Andtime,too!”criedTedBaldwin. “Folkareget- tin’outofhandintheseparts. Itwasonlylastweek that three of our men were turned off by Foreman Blaker. It’sbeenowinghimalongtime,andhe’llget itfullandproper.” “Get what?” McMurdo whispered to his neigh- bour.</s>“Thebusinessendofabuckshotcartridge!”cried themanwithaloudlaugh. “Whatthinkyouofour ways,Brother?” McMurdo’scriminalsoulseemedtohavealready absorbedthespiritofthevileassociationofwhichhe was now a member. “I like it well,” said he. “’Tis a properplaceforaladofmettle.” Severalofthosewhosataroundheardhiswords andapplaudedthem.</s>“What’sthat?”criedtheblack-manedBodymaster fromtheendofthetable.</s>“’Tisournewbrother,sir,whofindsourwaysto histaste.” McMurdorosetohisfeetforaninstant. “Iwould say, Eminent Bodymaster, that if a man should be wantedIshouldtakeitasanhonourtobechosento helpthelodge.” Therewasgreatapplauseatthis. Itwasfeltthata new sun was pushing its rim above the horizon. To someoftheeldersitseemedthattheprogresswasa littletoorapid.</s>“I would move,” said the secretary, Harraway, a vulture-faced old graybeard who sat near the chair- man, “thatBrotherMcMurdoshouldwaituntilitis thegoodpleasureofthelodgetoemployhim.” “Sure,thatwaswhatImeant;I’minyourhands,” saidMcMurdo.</s>“Yourtimewillcome,Brother,”saidthechairman.</s>“We have marked you down as a willing man, and webelievethatyouwilldogoodworkintheseparts.</s>There is a small matter to-night in which you may takeahandifitsopleaseyou.” “Iwillwaitforsomethingthatisworthwhile.” “Youcancometo-night,anyhow,anditwillhelp youtoknowwhatwestandforinthiscommunity. I will make the announcement later. Meanwhile,” he glancedathisagendapaper,“Ihaveoneortwomore pointstobringbeforethemeeting. Firstofall,Iwill askthetreasurerastoourbankbalance. Thereisthe pension to Jim Carnaway’s widow. He was struck downdoingtheworkofthelodge,anditisforusto seethatsheisnottheloser.”“Jimwasshot lastmonthwhen theytried tokill ChesterWilcoxofMarleyCreek,”McMurdo’sneigh- bourinformedhim.</s>“The funds are good at the moment,” said the treasurer, with the bankbook in front of him. “The firmshavebeengenerousoflate. MaxLinder&Co.</s>paid five hundred to be left alone. Walker Brothers sentinahundred;butItookitonmyselftoreturnit andaskforfive. IfIdonothearbyWednesday,their winding gear may get out of order. We had to burn theirbreakerlastyearbeforetheybecamereasonable.</s>Then the West Section Coaling Company has paid itsannualcontribution. Wehaveenoughonhandto meetanyobligations.” “WhataboutArchieSwindon?”askedabrother.</s>“He has sold out and left the district. The old devilleftanoteforustosaythathehadratherbea freecrossingsweeperinNewYorkthanalargemine ownerunderthepowerofaringofblackmailers. By Gar! itwasaswellthathemadeabreakforitbefore the note reached us! I guess he won’t show his face inthisvalleyagain.” An elderly, clean-shaved man with a kindly face andagoodbrowrosefromtheendofthetablewhich facedthechairman. “Mr.Treasurer,”heasked,“may I ask who has bought the property of this man that wehavedrivenoutofthedistrict?” “Yes, Brother Morris. It has been bought by the State&MertonCountyRailroadCompany.” “And who bought the mines of Todman and of Lee that came into the market in the same way last year?” “Thesamecompany,BrotherMorris.” “AndwhoboughttheironworksofMansonand ofShumanandofVanDeherandofAtwood,which haveallbeengivenupoflate?” “TheywereallboughtbytheWestGilmertonGen- eralMiningCompany.” “I don’t see, Brother Morris,” said the chairman, “thatitmatterstouswhobuysthem,sincetheycan’t carrythemoutofthedistrict.” “With all respect to you, Eminent Bodymaster, I thinkitmaymatterverymuchtous. Thisprocesshas been going on now for ten long years. We are grad- ually driving all the small men out of trade. What is the result? We find in their places great compa- niesliketheRailroadortheGeneralIron,whohave theirdirectorsinNewYorkorPhiladelphia,andcare nothing for our threats. We can take it out of their localbosses,butitonlymeansthatotherswillbesent in their stead. And we are making it dangerous for ourselves. The small men could not harm us. They hadnotthemoneynorthepower. Solongaswedid notsqueezethemtoodry,theywouldstayonunder our power. But if these big companies find that we standbetweenthemandtheirprofits,theywillspare nopainsandnoexpensetohuntusdownandbring ustocourt.” There was a hush at these ominous words, and everyfacedarkenedasgloomylookswereexchanged.</s>Soomnipotentandunchallengedhadtheybeenthat theverythoughtthattherewaspossibleretributionin thebackgroundhadbeenbanishedfromtheirminds.</s>Andyettheideastruckachilltothemostrecklessof them.</s>“Itismyadvice,”thespeakercontinued,“thatwe goeasieruponthesmallmen. Onthedaythatthey haveallbeendrivenoutthepowerofthissocietywill havebeenbroken.” Unwelcome truths are not popular. There were angrycriesasthespeakerresumedhisseat. McGinty rosewithgloomuponhisbrow.</s>“Brother Morris,” said he, “you were always a croaker. Solongasthemembersofthislodgestand together there is no power in the United States that can touch them. Sure, have we not tried it often enoughinthelawcourts? Iexpectthebigcompanies willfinditeasiertopaythantofight,sameasthelittle companiesdo. Andnow,Brethren,”McGintytookoff his black velvet cap and his stole as he spoke, “this lodgehasfinisheditsbusinessfortheevening,save foronesmallmatterwhichmaybementionedwhen weareparting. Thetimehasnowcomeforfraternal refreshmentandforharmony.” Strangeindeedishumannature. Herewerethese men,towhommurderwasfamiliar,whoagainand againhadstruckdownthefatherofthefamily,some managainstwhomtheyhadnopersonalfeeling,with- outonethoughtofcompunctionorofcompassionfor his weeping wife or helpless children, and yet the tenderorpatheticinmusiccouldmovethemtotears.</s>McMurdohadafinetenorvoice,andifhehadfailed togainthegoodwillofthelodgebefore,itcouldno longerhavebeenwithheldafterhehadthrilledthem with “I’m Sitting on the Stile, Mary,” and “On the BanksofAllanWater.” In his very first night the new recruit had made himself one of the most popular of the brethren, marked already for advancement and high office.</s>Therewereotherqualitiesneeded,however,besidesthose of good fellowship, to make a worthy Free- man, and of these he was given an example before theeveningwasover. Thewhiskybottlehadpassed round many times, and the men were flushed and ripe for mischief when their Bodymaster rose once moretoaddressthem.</s>“Boys,”saidhe,“there’sonemaninthistownthat wants trimming up, and it’s for you to see that he gets it. I’m speaking of James Stanger of the Herald.</s>You’veseenhowhe’sbeenopeninghismouthagainst usagain?” Therewasamurmurofassent,withmanyamut- tered oath. McGinty took a slip of paper from his waistcoatpocket.</s>LawandOrder! That’showheheadsit.</s>“Reignofterrorinthecoalandiron district “Twelveyearshavenowelapsedsincethefirst assassinations which proved the existence of a criminal organization in our midst. From thatdaytheseoutrageshaveneverceased,un- tilnowtheyhavereachedapitchwhichmakes us the opprobrium of the civilized world. Is itforsuchresultsasthisthatourgreatcoun- try welcomes to its bosom the alien who flies fromthedespotismsofEurope? Isitthatthey shallthemselvesbecometyrantsoverthevery men who have given them shelter, and that a state of terrorism and lawlessness should be established under the very shadow of the sa- credfoldsofthestarryFlagofFreedomwhich would raise horror in our minds if we read of it as existing under the most effete monarchy oftheEast? Themenareknown. Theorgani- zationispatentandpublic. Howlongarewe toendureit? Canweforeverlive— Sure,I’vereadenoughoftheslush!“criedthechair- man,tossingthepaperdownuponthetable. ”That’s what he says of us. The question I’m asking you is whatshallwesaytohim?“ “Killhim!”criedadozenfiercevoices.</s>“I protest against that,” said Brother Morris, the man of the good brow and shaved face. “I tell you, Brethren, that our hand is too heavy in this valley, andthattherewillcomeapointwhereinself-defense everymanwillunitetocrushusout. JamesStanger is an old man. He is respected in the township and the district. His paper stands for all that is solid in the valley. If that man is struck down, there will be a stir through this state that will only end with our destruction.” “And how would they bring about our destruc- tion, Mr. Standback?” cried McGinty. “Is it by the police? Sure,halfofthemareinourpayandhalfof themafraidofus. Orisitbythelawcourtsandthe judge? Haven’t we tried that before now, and what evercameofit?” “ThereisaJudgeLynchthatmighttrythecase,” saidBrotherMorris.</s>Ageneralshoutofangergreetedthesuggestion.</s>“I have but to raise my finger,” cried McGinty, “andIcouldputtwohundredmenintothistownthat wouldclearitoutfromendtoend.”Thensuddenly raising his voice and bending his huge black brows intoaterriblefrown,“Seehere,BrotherMorris,Ihave myeyeonyou,andhavehadforsometime! You’ve noheartyourself,andyoutrytotaketheheartoutof others. It will be an ill day for you, Brother Morris, when your own name comes on our agenda paper, and I’m thinking that it’s just there that I ought to placeit.” Morris had turned deadly pale, and his knees seemedtogivewayunderhimashefellbackintohis chair. Heraisedhisglassinhistremblinghandand drankbeforehecouldanswer. “Iapologize,Eminent Bodymaster,toyouandtoeverybrotherinthislodge ifIhavesaidmorethanIshould. Iamafaithfulmem- ber—you all know that—and it is my fear lest evil cometothelodgewhichmakesmespeakinanxious words. ButIhavegreatertrustinyourjudgmentthan inmyown,EminentBodymaster,andIpromiseyou thatIwillnotoffendagain.” TheBodymaster’sscowlrelaxedashelistenedto thehumblewords. “Verygood,BrotherMorris. It’s myselfthatwouldbesorryifitwereneedfultogive youalesson. ButsolongasIaminthischairweshall be a united lodge in word and in deed. And now, boys,”hecontinued,lookingroundatthecompany, “I’llsaythismuch,thatifStangergothisfulldeserts there would be more trouble than we need ask for.</s>Theseeditorshangtogether,andeveryjournalinthe statewouldbecryingoutforpoliceandtroops. ButI guessyoucangivehimaprettyseverewarning. Will youfixit,BrotherBaldwin?” “Sure!”saidtheyoungmaneagerly.</s>“Howmanywillyoutake?” “Halfadozen,andtwotoguardthedoor. You’ll come,Gower,andyou,Mansel,andyou,Scanlan,and thetwoWillabys.” “Ipromisedthenewbrotherheshouldgo,”said thechairman.TedBaldwinlookedatMcMurdowitheyeswhich showedthathehadnotforgottennorforgiven. “Well, he can come if he wants,” he said in a surly voice.</s>“That’s enough. The sooner we get to work the bet- ter.” Thecompanybrokeupwithshoutsandyellsand snatchesofdrunkensong. Thebarwasstillcrowded with revellers, and many of the brethren remained there. Thelittlebandwhohadbeentoldoffforduty passed out into the street, proceeding in twos and threesalongthesidewalksoasnottoprovokeatten- tion. It was a bitterly cold night, with a half-moon shiningbrilliantlyinafrosty,star-spangledsky. The men stopped and gathered in a yard which faced a high building. The words “Vermissa Herald” were printedingoldletteringbetweenthebrightlylitwin- dows. Fromwithincametheclankingoftheprinting press.</s>“Here,you,”saidBaldwintoMcMurdo,“youcan standbelowatthedoorandseethattheroadiskept openforus. ArthurWillabycanstaywithyou. You others come with me. Have no fears, boys; for we haveadozenwitnessesthatweareintheUnionBar atthisverymoment.” It was nearly midnight, and the street was de- serted save for one or two revellers upon their way home. Thepartycrossedtheroad,and,pushingopen the door of the newspaper office, Baldwin and his men rushed in and up the stair which faced them.</s>McMurdo and another remained below. From the room above came a shout, a cry for help, and then thesoundoftramplingfeetandoffallingchairs. An instant later a gray-haired man rushed out on the landing.</s>He was seized before he could get farther, and hisspectaclescametinklingdowntoMcMurdo’sfeet.</s>There was a thud and a groan. He was on his face, and half a dozen sticks were clattering together as they fell upon him. He writhed, and his long, thin limbs quivered under the blows. The others ceased at last; but Baldwin, his cruel face set in an infernal smile,washackingattheman’shead,whichhevainly endeavouredtodefendwithhisarms. Hiswhitehair wasdabbledwithpatchesofblood. Baldwinwasstill stooping over his victim, putting in a short, vicious blow whenever he could see a part exposed, when McMurdodashedupthestairandpushedhimback.</s>“You’llkilltheman,”saidhe. “Dropit!” Baldwin looked at him in amazement. “Curse you!”hecried. “Whoareyoutointerfere—youthat arenewtothelodge? Standback!”Heraisedhisstick; butMcMurdohadwhippedhispistoloutofhiship pocket.</s>“Stand back yourself!” he cried. “I’ll blow your face in if you lay a hand on me. As to the lodge, wasn’t it the order of the Bodymaster that the man was not to be killed—and what are you doing but killinghim?” “It’struthhesays,”remarkedoneofthemen.</s>“ByGar! you’dbesthurryyourselves!”criedthe man below. “The windows are all lighting up, and you’ll have the whole town here inside of five min- utes.” There was indeed the sound of shouting in the street,andalittlegroupofcompositorsandpressmen wasforminginthehallbelowandnervingitselftoac- tion. Leavingthelimpandmotionlessbodyoftheedi- torattheheadofthestair,thecriminalsrusheddown andmadetheirwayswiftlyalongthestreet. Having reachedtheUnionHouse,someofthemmixedwith the crowd in McGinty’s saloon, whispering across thebartotheBossthatthejobhadbeenwellcarried through. Others,andamongthemMcMurdo,broke away into side streets, and so by devious paths to theirownhomes.CHAP he all T V WhenMcMurdoawokenextmorninghehadgood reasontorememberhisinitiationintothelodge. His headachedwiththeeffectofthedrink,andhisarm, where he had been branded, was hot and swollen.</s>Having his own peculiar source of income, he was irregular in his attendance at his work; so he had a latebreakfast,andremainedathomeforthemorning writingalonglettertoafriend. Afterwardsheread theDailyHerald. Inaspecialcolumnputinatthelast momentheread: Outrageattheheraldoffice— Editorseriouslyinjured Itwasashortaccountofthefactswithwhichhewas himselfmorefamiliarthanthewritercouldhavebeen.</s>Itendedwiththestatement: The matter is now in the hands of the police; butitcanhardlybehopedthattheirexertions will be attended by any better results than in the past. Some of the men were recognized, andthereishopethataconvictionmaybeob- tained. Thesourceoftheoutragewas,itneed hardly be said, that infamous society which has held this community in bondage for so long a period, and against which the Herald has taken so uncompromising a stand. Mr.</s>Stanger’s many friends will rejoice to hear that, though he has been cruelly and brutally beaten,andthoughhehassustainedseverein- juries about the head, there is no immediate dangertohislife.</s>Below it stated that a guard of police, armed with Winchester rifles, had been requisitioned for the de- fenseoftheoffice.</s>McMurdohadlaiddownthepaper,andwaslight- inghispipewithahandwhichwasshakyfromthe excesses of the previous evening, when there was a knock outside, and his landlady brought to him a notewhichhadjustbeenhandedinbyalad. Itwas unsigned,andranthus: Ishouldwishtospeaktoyou,butwould rather not do so in your house. You will find me beside the flagstaff upon Miller Hill. If you will come there now, I have something which it is important for you tohearandformetosay.</s>McMurdoreadthenotetwicewiththeutmostsur- prise;forhecouldnotimaginewhatitmeantorwho TER IV.</s>ey of ear F wastheauthorofit. Haditbeeninafemininehand, he might have imagined that it was the beginning of one of those adventures which had been familiar enough in his past life. But it was the writing of a man, and of a well educated one, too. Finally, af- tersomehesitation,hedeterminedtoseethematter through.</s>Miller Hill is an ill-kept public park in the very centreofthetown. Insummeritisafavouriteresort of the people; but in winter it is desolate enough.</s>From the top of it one has a view not only of the whole straggling, grimy town, but of the winding valleybeneath,withitsscatteredminesandfactories blackening the snow on each side of it, and of the woodedandwhite-cappedrangesflankingit.</s>McMurdostrolledupthewindingpathhedgedin withevergreensuntilhereachedthedesertedrestau- rantwhichformsthecentreofsummergaiety. Beside itwasabareflagstaff, andunderneathitaman, his hatdrawndownandthecollarofhisovercoatturned up. When he turned his face McMurdo saw that it wasBrotherMorris, hewhohadincurredtheanger of the Bodymaster the night before. The lodge sign wasgivenandexchangedastheymet.</s>“I wanted to have a word with you, Mr. Mc- Murdo,” said the older man, speaking with a hes- itationwhichshowedthathewasondelicateground.</s>“Itwaskindofyoutocome.” “Whydidyounotputyournametothenote?” “Onehastobecautious,mister. Oneneverknows intimeslikethesehowathingmaycomebacktoone.</s>One never knows either who to trust or who not to trust.” “Surelyonemaytrustbrothersofthelodge.” “No, no, not always,” cried Morris with vehe- mence. “Whateverwesay,evenwhatwethink,seems togobacktothatmanMcGinty.” “Lookhere!”saidMcMurdosternly. “Itwasonly lastnight,asyouknowwell,thatIsworegoodfaith toourBodymaster. Wouldyoubeaskingmetobreak myoath?” “Ifthatistheviewyoutake,”saidMorrissadly,“I canonlysaythatIamsorryIgaveyouthetroubleto comeandmeetme. Thingshavecometoabadpass whentwofreecitizenscannotspeaktheirthoughtsto eachother.” McMurdo, who had been watching his compan- ionverynarrowly,relaxedsomewhatinhisbearing.“SureIspokeformyselfonly,”saidhe. “Iamanew- comer, as you know, and I am strange to it all. It is notformetoopenmymouth,Mr.Morris,andifyou thinkwelltosayanythingtomeIamheretohearit.” “AndtotakeitbacktoBossMcGinty!”saidMorris bitterly.</s>“Indeed, then, you do me injustice there,” cried McMurdo. “For myself I am loyal to the lodge, and soItellyoustraight;butIwouldbeapoorcreature if I were to repeat to any other what you might say to me in confidence. It will go no further than me; thoughIwarnyouthatyoumaygetneitherhelpnor sympathy.” “Ihavegivenuplookingforeithertheoneorthe other,”saidMorris. “Imaybeputtingmyverylifein yourhandsbywhatIsay;but,badasyouare—andit seemedtomelastnightthatyouwereshapingtobe asbadastheworst—stillyouarenewtoit,andyour consciencecannotyetbeashardenedastheirs. That waswhyIthoughttospeakwithyou.” “Well,whathaveyoutosay?” “Ifyougivemeaway,mayacursebeonyou!” “Sure,IsaidIwouldnot.” “Iwouldaskyou,then,whenyoujoinedtheFree- man’ssocietyinChicagoandsworevowsofcharity and fidelity, did ever it cross your mind that you mightfinditwouldleadyoutocrime?” “Ifyoucallitcrime,”McMurdoanswered.</s>“Call it crime!” cried Morris, his voice vibrating withpassion. “Youhaveseenlittleofitifyoucancall itanythingelse. Wasitcrimelastnightwhenaman oldenoughtobeyourfatherwasbeatentilltheblood dripped from his white hairs? Was that crime—or whatelsewouldyoucallit?” “Therearesomewouldsayitwaswar,”saidMc- Murdo,“awaroftwoclasseswithallin,sothateach struckasbestitcould.” “Well, did you think of such a thing when you joinedtheFreeman’ssocietyatChicago?” “No,I’mboundtosayIdidnot.” “Nor did I when I joined it at Philadelphia. It wasjustabenefitclubandameetingplaceforone’s fellows. Then I heard of this place—curse the hour thatthenamefirstfelluponmyears!—andIcameto bettermyself! MyGod! tobettermyself! Mywifeand three children came with me. I started a dry goods store on Market Square, and I prospered well. The word had gone round that I was a Freeman, and I was forced to join the local lodge, same as you did last night. I’ve the badge of shame on my forearm andsomethingworsebrandedonmyheart. Ifound that I was under the orders of a black villain and caught in a meshwork of crime. What could I do? EverywordIsaidtomakethingsbetterwastakenas treason, same as it was last night. I can’t get away; forallIhaveintheworldisinmystore. IfIleavethe society,Iknowwellthatitmeansmurdertome,and Godknowswhattomywifeandchildren. Oh,man, itisawful—awful!”Heputhishandstohisface,and hisbodyshookwithconvulsivesobs.</s>McMurdoshruggedhisshoulders. “Youweretoo softforthejob,”saidhe. “Youarethewrongsortfor suchwork.” “Ihadaconscienceandareligion;buttheymade me a criminal among them. I was chosen for a job.</s>If I backed down I knew well what would come to me. MaybeI’macoward. Maybeit’sthethoughtof mypoorlittlewomanandthechildrenthatmakesme one. AnyhowIwent. Iguessitwillhauntmeforever.</s>“It was a lonely house, twenty miles from here, over the range yonder. I was told off for the door, sameasyouwerelastnight. Theycouldnottrustme with the job. The others went in. When they came out their hands were crimson to the wrists. As we turnedawayachildwasscreamingoutofthehouse behind us. It was a boy of five who had seen his fathermurdered. Inearlyfaintedwiththehorrorof it,andyetIhadtokeepaboldandsmilingface;for well I knew that if I did not it would be out of my house that they would come next with their bloody hands and it would be my little Fred that would be screamingforhisfather.</s>“ButIwasacriminalthen,partsharerinamurder, lost forever in this world, and lost also in the next.</s>I am a good Catholic; but the priest would have no word with me when he heard I was a Scowrer, and I am excommunicated from my faith. That’s how it standswithme. AndIseeyougoingdownthesame road, and I ask you what the end is to be. Are you readytobeacold-bloodedmurdereralso,orcanwe doanythingtostopit?” “Whatwouldyoudo?”askedMcMurdoabruptly.</s>“Youwouldnotinform?” “God forbid!” cried Morris. “Sure, the very thoughtwouldcostmemylife.” “That’swell,”saidMcMurdo. “I’mthinkingthat youareaweakmanandthatyoumaketoomuchof thematter.” “Too much! Wait till you have lived here longer.</s>Look down the valley! See the cloud of a hundred chimneysthatovershadowsit! Itellyouthatthecloud ofmurderhangsthickerandlowerthanthatovertheheadsofthepeople. ItistheValleyofFear,theValley of Death. The terror is in the hearts of the people from the dusk to the dawn. Wait, young man, and youwilllearnforyourself.” “Well,I’llletyouknowwhatIthinkwhenIhave seenmore,”saidMcMurdocarelessly. “Whatisvery clear is that you are not the man for the place, and thatthesooneryousellout—ifyouonlygetadime adollarforwhatthebusinessisworth—thebetterit willbeforyou. Whatyouhavesaidissafewithme; but,byGar! ifIthoughtyouwereaninformer—” “No,no!”criedMorrispiteously.</s>“Well, let it rest at that. I’ll bear what you have saidinmind,andmaybesomedayI’llcomebackto it. Iexpectyoumeantkindlybyspeakingtomelike this. NowI’llbegettinghome.” “Onewordbeforeyougo,”saidMorris. “Wemay have been seen together. They may want to know whatwehavespokenabout.” “Ah! that’swellthoughtof.” “Iofferyouaclerkshipinmystore.” “AndIrefuseit. That’sourbusiness. Well,solong, Brother Morris, and may you find things go better withyouinthefuture.” That same afternoon, as McMurdo sat smoking, lost in thought beside the stove of his sitting-room, the door swung open and its framework was filled withthehugefigureofBossMcGinty. Hepassedthe sign,andthenseatinghimselfoppositetotheyoung manhelookedathimsteadilyforsometime,alook whichwasassteadilyreturned.</s>“I’mnotmuchofavisitor,BrotherMcMurdo,”he saidatlast. “IguessIamtoobusyoverthefolkthat visit me. But I thought I’d stretch a point and drop downtoseeyouinyourownhouse.” “I’mproudtoseeyouhere,Councillor,”McMurdo answeredheartily,bringinghiswhiskybottleoutof the cupboard. “It’s an honour that I had not ex- pected.” “How’sthearm?”askedtheBoss.</s>McMurdomadeawryface. “Well,I’mnotforget- tingit,”hesaid;“butit’sworthit.” “Yes,it’sworthit,”theotheranswered,“tothose thatareloyalandgothroughwithitandareahelpto thelodge. WhatwereyouspeakingtoBrotherMorris aboutonMillerHillthismorning?” The question came so suddenly that it was well that he had his answer prepared. He burst into a hearty laugh. “Morris didn’t know I could earn a living here at home. He shan’t know either; for he hasgottoomuchconscienceforthelikesofme. But he’s a good-hearted old chap. It was his idea that I wasatalooseend,andthathewoulddomeagood turnbyofferingmeaclerkshipinadrygoodsstore.” “Oh,thatwasit?” “Yes,thatwasit.” “Andyourefusedit?” “Sure. Couldn’t I earn ten times as much in my ownbedroomwithfourhours’work?” “That’s so. But I wouldn’t get about too much withMorris.” “Whynot?” “Well,IguessbecauseItellyounot. That’senough formostfolkintheseparts.” “It may be enough for most folk; but it ain’t enough for me, Councillor,” said McMurdo boldly.</s>“Ifyouareajudgeofmen,you’llknowthat.” The swarthy giant glared at him, and his hairy pawclosedforaninstantroundtheglassasthough hewouldhurlitattheheadofhiscompanion. Then helaughedinhisloud,boisterous,insincerefashion.</s>“You’re a queer card, for sure,” said he. “Well, if you want reasons, I’ll give them. Did Morris say nothingtoyouagainstthelodge?” “No.” “Noragainstme?” “No.” “Well, that’s because he daren’t trust you. But in his heart he is not a loyal brother. We know that well. So we watch him and we wait for the time to admonishhim. I’mthinkingthatthetimeisdrawing near. There’s no room for scabby sheep in our pen.</s>But if you keep company with a disloyal man, we mightthinkthatyouweredisloyal,too. See?” “There’snochanceofmykeepingcompanywith him;forIdisliketheman,”McMurdoanswered. “As tobeingdisloyal,ifitwasanymanbutyouhewould notusethewordtometwice.” “Well,that’senough,”saidMcGinty,drainingoff hisglass. “Icamedowntogiveyouawordinseason, andyou’vehadit.” “I’dliketoknow,”saidMcMurdo,“howyouever cametolearnthatIhadspokenwithMorrisatall?” McGintylaughed. “It’smybusinesstoknowwhat goes on in this township,” said he. “I guess you’d bestreckononmyhearingallthatpasses. Well,time’s up,andI’lljustsay—” Buthisleavetakingwascutshortinaveryunex- pected fashion. With a sudden crash the door flewopen, and three frowning, intent faces glared in at themfromunderthepeaksofpolicecaps. McMurdo sprangtohisfeetandhalfdrewhisrevolver;buthis arm stopped midway as he became conscious that two Winchester rifles were levelled at his head. A maninuniformadvancedintotheroom,asix-shooter inhishand. ItwasCaptainMarvin,onceofChicago, and now of the Mine Constabulary. He shook his headwithahalf-smileatMcMurdo.</s>“I thought you’d be getting into trouble, Mr.</s>CrookedMcMurdoofChicago,”saidhe. “Can’tkeep outofit,canyou? Takeyourhatandcomealongwith us.” “Iguessyou’llpayforthis,CaptainMarvin,”said McGinty. “Who are you, I’d like to know, to break into a house in this fashion and molest honest, law- abidingmen?” “You’re standing out in this deal, Councillor McGinty,” said the police captain. “We are not out afteryou,butafterthismanMcMurdo. Itisforyou tohelp,nottohinderusinourduty,” “He is a friend of mine, and I’ll answer for his conduct,”saidtheBoss.</s>“By all accounts, Mr. McGinty, you may have to answer for your own conduct some of these days,” the captain answered. “This man McMurdo was a crookbeforeeverhecamehere,andhe’sacrookstill.</s>Coverhim,Patrolman,whileIdisarmhim.” “There’s my pistol,” said McMurdo coolly.</s>“Maybe, Captain Marvin, if you and I were alone andfacetofaceyouwouldnottakemesoeasily.” “Where’syourwarrant?”askedMcGinty. “ByGar! a man might as well live in Russia as in Vermissa whilefolklikeyouarerunningthepolice. It’sacapi- talistoutrage,andyou’llhearmoreofit,Ireckon.” “Youdowhatyouthinkisyourdutythebestway youcan,Councillor. We’lllookafterours.” “WhatamIaccusedof?”askedMcMurdo.</s>“OfbeingconcernedinthebeatingofoldEditor StangerattheHeraldoffice. Itwasn’tyourfaultthat itisn’tamurdercharge.” “Well, if that’s all you have against him,” cried McGintywithalaugh,“youcansaveyourselfadeal of trouble by dropping it right now. This man was withmeinmysaloonplayingpokeruptomidnight, andIcanbringadozentoproveit.” “That’s your affair, and I guess you can settle it incourtto-morrow. Meanwhile,comeon,McMurdo, andcomequietlyifyoudon’twantagunacrossyour head. Youstandwide,Mr.McGinty;forIwarnyouI willstandnoresistancewhenIamonduty!” Sodeterminedwastheappearanceofthecaptain thatbothMcMurdoandhisbosswereforcedtoaccept thesituation. Thelattermanagedtohaveafewwhis- peredwordswiththeprisonerbeforetheyparted.</s>“What about—” he jerked his thumb upward to signifythecoiningplant.</s>“All right,” whispered McMurdo, who had de- visedasafehidingplaceunderthefloor.</s>“I’ll bid you good-bye,” said the Boss, shaking hands. “I’llseeReillythelawyerandtakethedefense uponmyself. Takemywordforitthattheywon’tbe abletoholdyou.” “Iwouldn’tbetonthat. Guardtheprisoner,you two,andshoothimifhetriesanygames. I’llsearch thehousebeforeIleave.” He did so; but apparently found no trace of the concealedplant. Whenhehaddescendedheandhis men escorted McMurdo to headquarters. Darkness hadfallen,andakeenblizzardwasblowingsothat the streets were nearly deserted; but a few loiterers followed the group, and emboldened by invisibility shoutedimprecationsattheprisoner.</s>“Lynch the cursed Scowrer!” they cried. “Lynch him!” They laughed and jeered as he was pushed into the police station. After a short, formal exami- nation from the inspector in charge he was put into thecommoncell. HerehefoundBaldwinandthree other criminals of the night before, all arrested that afternoonandwaitingtheirtrialnextmorning.</s>Butevenwithinthisinnerfortressofthelawthe long arm of the Freemen was able to extend. Late at night there came a jailer with a straw bundle for theirbedding,outofwhichheextractedtwobottles of whisky, some glasses, and a pack of cards. They spentahilariousnight,withoutananxiousthought astotheordealofthemorning.</s>Norhadtheycause,astheresultwastoshow. The magistratecouldnotpossibly,ontheevidence,have held them for a higher court. On the one hand the compositorsandpressmenwereforcedtoadmitthat the light was uncertain, that they were themselves muchperturbed,andthatitwasdifficultforthemto sweartotheidentityoftheassailants;althoughthey believedthattheaccusedwereamongthem. Crossex- aminedbythecleverattorneywhohadbeenengaged by McGinty, they were even more nebulous in their evidence.</s>Theinjuredmanhadalreadydeposedthathewas sotakenbysurprisebythesuddennessoftheattack that he could state nothing beyond the fact that thefirst man who struck him wore a moustache. He added that he knew them to be Scowrers, since no one else in the community could possibly have any enmitytohim,andhehadlongbeenthreatenedonac- countofhisoutspokeneditorials. Ontheotherhand, it was clearly shown by the united and unfaltering evidenceofsixcitizens,includingthathighmunicipal official,CouncillorMcGinty,thatthemenhadbeenat a card party at the Union House until an hour very muchlaterthanthecommissionoftheoutrage.</s>Needless to say that they were discharged with something very near to an apology from the bench for the inconvenience to which they had been put, CHAP he ark T D If anything had been needed to give an impetus to Jack McMurdo’s popularity among his fellows it would have been his arrest and acquittal. That a man on the very night of joining the lodge should havedonesomethingwhichbroughthimbeforethe magistratewasanewrecordintheannalsofthesoci- ety. Alreadyhehadearnedthereputationofagood booncompanion,acheeryreveller,andwithalaman of high temper, who would not take an insult even from the all-powerful Boss himself. But in addition tothisheimpressedhiscomradeswiththeideathat amongthemalltherewasnotonewhosebrainwas so ready to devise a bloodthirsty scheme, or whose handwouldbemorecapableofcarryingitout. “He’ll betheboyforthecleanjob,”saidtheoldsterstoone another, and waited their time until they could set himtohiswork.</s>McGintyhadinstrumentsenoughalready;buthe recognized that this was a supremely able one. He feltlikeamanholdingafiercebloodhoundinleash.</s>Therewerecurstodothesmallerwork;butsomeday hewouldslipthiscreatureuponitsprey. Afewmem- bersofthelodge,TedBaldwinamongthem,resented therapidriseofthestrangerandhatedhimforit;but theykeptclearofhim,forhewasasreadytofightas tolaugh.</s>Butifhegainedfavourwithhisfellows,therewas another quarter, one which had become even more togetherwithanimpliedcensureofCaptainMarvin andthepolicefortheirofficiouszeal.</s>Theverdictwasgreetedwithloudapplausebya court in which McMurdo saw many familiar faces.</s>Brothers of the lodge smiled and waved. But there wereotherswhosatwithcompressedlipsandbrood- ing eyes as the men filed out of the dock. One of them, a little, dark-bearded, resolute fellow, put the thoughtsofhimselfandcomradesintowordsasthe ex-prisonerspassedhim.</s>“Youdamnedmurderers!”hesaid. “We’llfixyou yet!” PTER V.</s>kest our H vitaltohim,inwhichhelostit. EttieShafter’sfather wouldhavenothingmoretodowithhim,norwould he allow him to enter the house. Ettie herself was toodeeplyinlovetogivehimupaltogether,andyet herowngoodsensewarnedherofwhatwouldcome fromamarriagewithamanwhowasregardedasa criminal.</s>One morning after a sleepless night she deter- mined to see him, possibly for the last time, and makeonestrongendeavourtodrawhimfromthose evil influences which were sucking him down. She wenttohishouse,ashehadoftenbeggedhertodo, andmadeherwayintotheroomwhichheusedashis sitting-room. Hewasseatedatatable,withhisback turned and a letter in front of him. A sudden spirit ofgirlishmischiefcameoverher—shewasstillonly nineteen. He had not heard her when she pushed openthedoor. Nowshetiptoedforwardandlaidher handlightlyuponhisbendedshoulders.</s>If she had expected to startle him, she certainly succeeded;butonlyinturntobestartledherself. With a tiger spring he turned on her, and his right hand was feeling for her throat. At the same instant with the other hand he crumpled up the paper that lay before him. For an instant he stood glaring. Then astonishment and joy took the place of the ferocity whichhadconvulsedhisfeatures—aferocitywhichhadsenthershrinkingbackinhorrorasfromsome- thingwhichhadneverbeforeintrudedintohergentle life.</s>“It’s you!” said he, mopping his brow. “And to thinkthatyoushouldcometome,heartofmyheart, andIshouldfindnothingbettertodothantowantto strangle you! Come then, darling,” and he held out hisarms,“letmemakeituptoyou.” But she had not recovered from that sudden glimpse of guilty fear which she had read in the man’s face. All her woman’s instinct told her that it was not the mere fright of a man who is startled.</s>Guilt—thatwasit—guiltandfear! “What’s come over you, Jack?” she cried. “Why wereyousoscaredofme? Oh,Jack,ifyourconscience was at ease, you would not have looked at me like that!” “Sure, I was thinking of other things, and when you came tripping so lightly on those fairy feet of yours—” “No,no,itwasmorethanthat,Jack.”Thenasud- densuspicionseizedher. “Letmeseethatletteryou werewriting.” “Ah,Ettie,Icouldn’tdothat.” Hersuspicionsbecamecertainties. “It’stoanother woman,” she cried. “I know it! Why else should you hold it from me? Was it to your wife that you werewriting? HowamItoknowthatyouarenota marriedman—you,astranger,thatnobodyknows?” “I am not married, Ettie. See now, I swear it! You’re the only one woman on earth to me. By the crossofChristIswearit!” Hewassowhitewithpassionateearnestnessthat shecouldnotbutbelievehim.</s>“Well, then,” she cried, “why will you not show metheletter?” “I’ll tell you, acushla,” said he. “I’m under oath nottoshowit,andjustasIwouldn’tbreakmyword to you so I would keep it to those who hold my promise. It’s the business of the lodge, and even to youit’ssecret. AndifIwasscaredwhenahandfell on me, can’t you understand it when it might have beenthehandofadetective?” She felt that he was telling the truth. He gath- eredherintohisarmsandkissedawayherfearsand doubts.</s>“Sitherebyme,then. It’saqueerthroneforsucha queen;butit’sthebestyourpoorlovercanfind. He’ll do better for you some of these days, I’m thinking.</s>Nowyourmindiseasyonceagain,isitnot?” “How can it ever be at ease, Jack, when I know thatyouareacriminalamongcriminals,whenInever knowthedaythatImayhearyouareincourtformur- der? ‘McMurdotheScowrer,’that’swhatoneofour boarders called you yesterday. It went through my heartlikeaknife.” “Sure,hardwordsbreaknobones.” “Buttheyweretrue.” “Well, dear, it’s not so bad as you think. We are but poor men that are trying in our own way to get ourrights.” Ettiethrewherarmsroundherlover’sneck. “Give it up, Jack! For my sake, for God’s sake, give it up! It was to ask you that I came here to-day. Oh, Jack, see—I beg it of you on my bended knees! Kneeling herebeforeyouIimploreyoutogiveitup!” He raised her and soothed her with her head againsthisbreast.</s>“Sure,mydarlin’,youdon’tknowwhatitisyou areasking. HowcouldIgiveitupwhenitwouldbe tobreakmyoathandtodesertmycomrades? Ifyou couldseehowthingsstandwithmeyoucouldnever askitofme. Besides,ifIwantedto,howcouldIdo it? Youdon’tsupposethatthelodgewouldletaman gofreewithallitssecrets?” “I’vethoughtofthat,Jack. I’veplanneditall. Fa- therhassavedsomemoney. Heiswearyofthisplace wherethefearofthesepeopledarkensourlives. He isreadytogo. WewouldflytogethertoPhiladelphia orNewYork,wherewewouldbesafefromthem.” McMurdo laughed. “The lodge has a long arm.</s>DoyouthinkitcouldnotstretchfromheretoPhiladel- phiaorNewYork?” “Well, then, to the West, or to England, or to Germany,wherefathercamefrom—anywheretoget awayfromthisValleyofFear!” McMurdothoughtofoldBrotherMorris. “Sure,it isthesecondtimeIhaveheardthevalleysonamed,” saidhe. “Theshadowdoesindeedseemtolieheavy onsomeofyou.” “It darkens every moment of our lives. Do you supposethatTedBaldwinhaseverforgivenus? Ifit werenotthathefearsyou,whatdoyousupposeour chanceswouldbe? Ifyousawthelookinthosedark, hungryeyesofhiswhentheyfallonme!” “ByGar! I’dteachhimbettermannersifIcaught him at it! But see here, little girl. I can’t leave here.</s>I can’t—take that from me once and for all. But if you will leave me to find my own way, I will try to prepareawayofgettinghonourablyoutofit.”“Thereisnohonourinsuchamatter.” “Well, well, it’s just how you look at it. But if you’ll give me six months, I’ll work it so that I can leave without being ashamed to look others in the face.” Thegirllaughedwithjoy. “Sixmonths!”shecried.</s>“Isitapromise?” “Well,itmaybesevenoreight. Butwithinayear atthefurthestwewillleavethevalleybehindus.” ItwasthemostthatEttiecouldobtain,andyetit wassomething. Therewasthisdistantlighttoillumi- natethegloomoftheimmediatefuture. Shereturned toherfather’shousemorelight-heartedthanshehad everbeensinceJackMcMurdohadcomeintoherlife.</s>It might be thought that as a member, all the doings of the society would be told to him; but he wassoontodiscoverthattheorganizationwaswider andmorecomplexthanthesimplelodge. EvenBoss McGinty was ignorant as to many things; for there wasanofficialnamedtheCountyDelegate,livingat Hobson’sPatchfartherdowntheline,whohadpower over several different lodges which he wielded in a suddenandarbitraryway. OnlyoncedidMcMurdo seehim,asly,littlegray-hairedratofaman,witha slinkinggaitandasidelongglancewhichwascharged withmalice. EvansPottwashisname,andeventhe greatBossofVermissafelttowardshimsomethingof the repulsion and fear which the huge Danton may havefeltforthepunybutdangerousRobespierre.</s>One day Scanlan, who was McMurdo’s fellow boarder,receivedanotefromMcGintyinclosingone from Evans Pott, which informed him that he was sending over two good men, Lawler and Andrews, who had instructions to act in the neighbourhood; thoughitwasbestforthecausethatnoparticularsas totheirobjectsshouldbegiven. WouldtheBodymas- ter see to it that suitable arrangements be made for their lodgings and comfort until the time for action shouldarrive? McGintyaddedthatitwasimpossible foranyonetoremainsecretattheUnionHouse,and that,therefore,hewouldbeobligedifMcMurdoand Scanlanwouldputthestrangersupforafewdaysin theirboardinghouse.</s>Thesameeveningthetwomenarrived,eachcarry- inghisgripsack. Lawlerwasanelderlyman,shrewd, silent, and self-contained, clad in anold black frock coat,whichwithhissoftfelthatandragged,grizzled beardgavehimageneralresemblancetoanitinerant preacher. His companion Andrews was little more thanaboy,frank-facedandcheerful,withthebreezy mannerofonewhoisoutforaholidayandmeansto enjoyeveryminuteofit. Bothmenweretotalabstain- ers,andbehavedinallwaysasexemplarymembers of the society, with the one simple exception that theywereassassinswhohadoftenprovedthemselves to be most capable instruments for this association of murder. Lawler had already carried out fourteen commissionsofthekind,andAndrewsthree.</s>They were, as McMurdo found, quite ready to converseabouttheirdeedsinthepast,whichtheyre- countedwiththehalf-bashfulprideofmenwhohad donegoodandunselfishserviceforthecommunity.</s>Theywerereticent,however,astotheimmediatejob inhand.</s>“TheychoseusbecauseneitherInortheboyhere drink,”Lawlerexplained. “Theycancountonussay- ing no more than we should. You must not take it amiss,butitistheordersoftheCountyDelegatethat weobey.” “Sure,weareallinittogether,”saidScanlan,Mc- Murdo’smate,asthefoursattogetheratsupper.</s>“That’s true enough, and we’ll talk till the cows come home of the killing of Charlie Williams or of SimonBird,oranyotherjobinthepast. Buttillthe workisdonewesaynothing.” “There are half a dozen about here that I have a word to say to,” said McMurdo, with an oath. “I supposeitisn’tJackKnoxofIronhillthatyouareafter.</s>I’dgosomewaytoseehimgethisdeserts.” “No,it’snothimyet.” “OrHermanStrauss?” “No,norhimeither.” “Well,ifyouwon’ttelluswecan’tmakeyou;but I’dbegladtoknow.” Lawlersmiledandshookhishead. Hewasnotto bedrawn.</s>In spite of the reticence of their guests, Scanlan and McMurdo were quite determined to be present atwhattheycalled“thefun.”When,therefore,atan earlyhouronemorningMcMurdoheardthemcreep- ing down the stairs he awakened Scanlan, and the twohurriedontheirclothes. Whentheyweredressed theyfoundthattheothershadstolenout,leavingthe door open behind them. It was not yet dawn, and bythelightofthelampstheycouldseethetwomen somedistancedownthestreet. Theyfollowedthem warily,treadingnoiselesslyinthedeepsnow.</s>Theboardinghousewasneartheedgeofthetown, andsoontheywereatthecrossroadswhichisbeyond its boundary. Here three men were waiting, with whomLawlerandAndrewsheldashort,eagercon- versation. Then they all moved on together. It wasclearlysomenotablejobwhichneedednumbers. At this point there are several trails which lead to vari- ousmines. Thestrangerstookthatwhichledtothe CrowHill,ahugebusinesswhichwasinstronghands which had been able, thanks to their energetic and fearless New England manager, Josiah H. Dunn, to keepsomeorderanddisciplineduringthelongreign ofterror.</s>Day was breaking now, and a line of workmen wereslowlymakingtheirway,singlyandingroups, alongtheblackenedpath.</s>McMurdoandScanlanstrolledonwiththeothers, keepinginsightofthemenwhomtheyfollowed. A thickmistlayoverthem,andfromtheheartofitthere came the sudden scream of a steam whistle. It was theten-minutesignalbeforethecagesdescendedand theday’slabourbegan.</s>Whentheyreachedtheopenspaceroundthemine shafttherewereahundredminerswaiting,stamping theirfeetandblowingontheirfingers;foritwasbit- terlycold. Thestrangersstoodinalittlegroupunder the shadow of the engine house. Scanlan and Mc- Murdoclimbedaheapofslagfromwhichthewhole scenelaybeforethem. Theysawthemineengineer,a greatbeardedScotchmannamedMenzies,comeout oftheenginehouseandblowhiswhistleforthecages tobelowered.</s>At the same instant a tall, loose-framed young man with a clean-shaved, earnest face advanced ea- gerlytowardsthepithead. Ashecameforwardhis eyesfelluponthegroup,silentandmotionless,under the engine house. The men had drawn down their hatsandturneduptheircollarstoscreentheirfaces.</s>ForamomentthepresentimentofDeathlaiditscold handuponthemanager’sheart. Atthenexthehad shakenitoffandsawonlyhisdutytowardsintrusive strangers.</s>“Whoareyou?”heaskedasheadvanced. “What areyouloiteringtherefor?” There was no answer; but the lad Andrews stepped forward and shot him in the stomach. The hundredwaitingminersstoodasmotionlessandhelp- lessasiftheywereparalyzed. Themanagerclapped his two hands to the wound and doubled himself up. Then he staggered away; but another of the as- sassins fired, and he went down sidewise, kicking andclawingamongaheapofclinkers. Menzies,the Scotchman,gavearoarofrageatthesightandrushed withanironspanneratthemurderers;butwasmet bytwoballsinthefacewhichdroppedhimdeadat theirveryfeet.</s>Therewasasurgeforwardofsomeoftheminers, andaninarticulatecryofpityandofanger;butacou- ple of the strangers emptied their six-shooters over theheadsofthecrowd,andtheybrokeandscattered, someofthemrushingwildlybacktotheirhomesin Vermissa.</s>Whenafewofthebravesthadrallied,andthere was a return to the mine, the murderous gang had vanishedinthemistsofmorning,withoutasinglewit- nessbeingabletosweartotheidentityofthesemen who in front of a hundred spectators had wrought thisdoublecrime.</s>ScanlanandMcMurdomadetheirwayback;Scan- lansomewhatsubdued,foritwasthefirstmurderjob thathehadseenwithhisowneyes,anditappeared lessfunnythanhehadbeenledtobelieve. Thehor- rible screams of the dead manager’s wife pursued them as they hurried to the town. McMurdo was absorbedandsilent;butheshowednosympathyfor theweakeningofhiscompanion.</s>“Sure,itislikeawar,”herepeated. “Whatisitbut awarbetweenusandthem,andwehitbackwhere webestcan.” There was high revel in the lodge room at the Union House that night, not only over the killing ofthemanagerandengineeroftheCrowHillmine, which would bring this organization into line with theotherblackmailedandterror-strickencompanies ofthedistrict,butalsooveradistanttriumphwhich hadbeenwroughtbythehandsofthelodgeitself.</s>It would appear that when the County Delegate hadsentoverfivegoodmentostrikeablowinVer- missa,hehaddemandedthatinreturnthreeVermissa menshouldbesecretlyselectedandsentacrosstokill WilliamHalesofStakeRoyal,oneofthebestknown andmostpopularmineownersintheGilmertondis- trict,amanwhowasbelievednottohaveanenemy intheworld;forhewasinallwaysamodelemployer.</s>Hehadinsisted,however,uponefficiencyinthework, andhad,therefore,paidoffcertaindrunkenandidle employees who were members of the all-powerful society. Coffinnoticeshungoutsidehisdoorhadnot weakened his resolution, and so in a free, civilized countryhefoundhimselfcondemnedtodeath.</s>Theexecutionhadnowbeendulycarriedout. Ted Baldwin,whosprawlednowintheseatofhonourbe- sidetheBodymaster,hadbeenchiefoftheparty. His flushedfaceandglazed,blood-shoteyestoldofsleep- lessness and drink. He and his two comrades had spent the night before among the mountains. Theywereunkemptandweather-stained. Butnoheroes,re- turningfromaforlornhope,couldhavehadawarmer welcomefromtheircomrades.</s>Thestorywastoldandretoldamidcriesofdelight andshoutsoflaughter. Theyhadwaitedfortheirman ashedrovehomeatnightfall,takingtheirstationat the top of a steep hill, where his horse must be at a walk. He was so furred to keep out the cold that he could not lay his hand on his pistol. They had pulledhimoutandshothimagainandagain. Hehad screamed formercy. The screamswere repeatedfor theamusementofthelodge.</s>“Let’shearagainhowhesquealed,”theycried.</s>Noneofthemknewtheman;butthereiseternal dramainakilling,andtheyhadshowntheScowrers ofGilmertonthattheVermissamenweretoberelied upon.</s>There had been one contretemps; for a man and his wife had driven up while they were still empty- ing their revolvers into the silent body. It had been suggestedthattheyshouldshootthemboth;butthey wereharmlessfolkwhowerenotconnectedwiththe mines, so they were sternly bidden to drive on and keepsilent,lestaworsethingbefallthem. Andsothe blood-mottled figure had been left as a warning to allsuchhard-heartedemployers,andthethreenoble avengers had hurried off into the mountains where unbrokennaturecomesdowntotheveryedgeofthe furnacesandtheslagheaps. Heretheywere,safeand sound,theirworkwelldone,andtheplauditsoftheir companionsintheirears.</s>It had been a great day for the Scowrers. The shadow had fallen even darker over the valley. But as the wise general chooses the moment of victory inwhichtoredoublehisefforts,sothathisfoesmay have no time to steady themselves after disaster, so BossMcGinty,lookingoutuponthesceneofhisop- erations with his brooding and malicious eyes, had devisedanewattackuponthosewhoopposedhim.</s>Thatverynight,asthehalf-drunkencompanybroke up, he touched McMurdo on the arm and led him asideintothatinnerroomwheretheyhadtheirfirst interview.</s>“Seehere,mylad,”saidhe,“I’vegotajobthat’s worthy of you at last. You’ll have the doing of it in yourownhands.” “ProudIamtohearit,”McMurdoanswered.</s>“Youcantaketwomenwithyou—Mandersand Reilly. Theyhavebeenwarnedforservice. We’llnever berightinthisdistrictuntilChesterWilcoxhasbeen settled,andyou’llhavethethanksofeverylodgein thecoalfieldsifyoucandownhim.” “I’ll do my best, anyhow. Who is he, and where shallIfindhim?” McGinty took his eternal half-chewed, half- smokedcigarfromthecornerofhismouth,andpro- ceededtodrawaroughdiagramonapagetornfrom hisnotebook.</s>“He’sthechiefforemanoftheIronDikeCompany.</s>He’sahardcitizen,anoldcoloursergeantofthewar, allscarsandgrizzle. We’vehadtwotriesathim;but had no luck, and Jim Carnaway lost his life over it.</s>Nowit’sforyoutotakeitover. That’sthehouse—all aloneattheIronDikecrossroad,sameasyouseehere on the map—without another within earshot. It’s no good by day. He’s armed and shoots quick and straight,withnoquestionsasked. Butatnight—well, thereheiswithhiswife,threechildren,andahired help. Youcan’tpickorchoose. It’sallornone. Ifyou couldgetabagofblastingpowderatthefrontdoor withaslowmatchtoit—” “What’sthemandone?” “Didn’tItellyouheshotJimCarnaway?” “Whydidheshoothim?” “Whatinthunderhasthattodowithyou? Carn- awaywasabouthishouseatnight,andheshothim.</s>That’s enough for me and you. You’ve got to settle thethingright.” “There’s these two women and the children. Do theygouptoo?” “Theyhaveto—elsehowcanwegethim?” “Itseemshardonthem;forthey’vedonenothing.” “Whatsortoffool’stalkisthis? Doyoubackout?” “Easy,Councillor,easy! WhathaveIeversaidor donethatyoushouldthinkIwouldbeafterstanding back from an order of the Bodymaster of my own lodge? If it’s right or if it’s wrong, it’s for you to decide.” “You’lldoit,then?” “OfcourseIwilldoit.” “When?” “Well,youhadbestgivemeanightortwothatI mayseethehouseandmakemyplans. Then—” “Very good,” said McGinty, shaking him by the hand. “Ileaveitwithyou. Itwillbeagreatdaywhen you bring us the news. It’s just the last stroke that willbringthemalltotheirknees.” McMurdothoughtlonganddeeplyoverthecom- mission which had been so suddenly placed in his hands. The isolated house in which Chester Wilcox lived was about five miles off in an adjacent valley.Thatverynighthestartedoffallalonetopreparefor theattempt. Itwasdaylightbeforehereturnedfrom hisreconnaissance. Nextdayheinterviewedhistwo subordinates,MandersandReilly,recklessyoungsters whowereaselatedasifitwereadeer-hunt.</s>Two nights later they met outside the town, all threearmed,andoneofthemcarryingasackstuffed with the powder which was used in the quarries.</s>It was two in the morning before they came to the lonelyhouse. Thenightwasawindyone,withbro- kencloudsdriftingswiftlyacrossthefaceofathree- quartermoon. Theyhadbeenwarnedtobeontheir guardagainstbloodhounds;sotheymovedforward cautiously, with their pistols cocked in their hands.</s>Buttherewasnosoundsavethehowlingofthewind, and no movement but the swaying branches above them.</s>McMurdolistenedatthedoorofthelonelyhouse; but all was still within. Then he leaned the powder bagagainstit,rippedaholeinitwithhisknife,and attachedthefuse. Whenitwaswellalightheandhis twocompanionstooktotheirheels, andweresome distance off, safe and snug in a sheltering ditch, be- foretheshatteringroaroftheexplosion,withthelow, deeprumbleofthecollapsingbuilding,toldthemthat their work was done. No cleaner job had ever been carriedoutinthebloodstainedannalsofthesociety.</s>But alas that work so well organized and boldly carriedoutshouldallhavegonefornothing! Warned bythefateofthevariousvictims,andknowingthat hewasmarkeddownfordestruction,ChesterWilcox hadmovedhimselfandhisfamilyonlythedaybefore tosomesaferandlessknownquarters,whereaguard of police should watch over them. It was an empty housewhichhadbeentorndownbythegunpowder, andthegrimoldcoloursergeantofthewarwasstill teachingdisciplinetotheminersofIronDike.</s>“Leave him to me,” said McMurdo. “He’s my man,andI’llgethimsureifIhavetowaitayearfor him.” Avoteofthanksandconfidencewaspassedinfull lodge, and so for the time the matter ended. When a few weeks later it was reported in the papers that Wilcox had been shot at from an ambuscade, it was anopensecretthatMcMurdowasstillatworkupon hisunfinishedjob.</s>SuchwerethemethodsoftheSocietyofFreemen, and such were the deeds of the Scowrers by which theyspreadtheirruleoffearoverthegreatandrich district which was for so long a period haunted by their terrible presence. Why should these pages be stainedbyfurthercrimes? HaveInotsaidenoughto showthemenandtheirmethods? Thesedeedsarewritteninhistory,andthereare records wherein one may read the details of them.</s>There one may learn of the shooting of Policemen Hunt and Evans because they had ventured to ar- rest two members of the society—a double outrage plannedattheVermissalodgeandcarriedoutincold blood upon two helpless and disarmed men. There also one may read of the shooting of Mrs. Larbey when she was nursing her husband, who had been beaten almost to death by orders of Boss McGinty.</s>The killing of the elder Jenkins, shortly followed by thatofhisbrother,themutilationofJamesMurdoch, theblowingupoftheStaphousefamily,andthemur- deroftheStendalsallfollowedhardupononeanother inthesameterriblewinter.</s>Darkly the shadow lay upon the Valley of Fear.</s>Thespringhadcomewithrunningbrooksandblos- soming trees. There was hope for all Nature bound so long in an iron grip; but nowhere was there any hope for the men and women who lived under the yoke of the terror. Never had the cloud above them beensodarkandhopelessasintheearlysummerof theyear1875.CHAP an D Itwastheheightofthereignofterror. McMurdo, whohadalreadybeenappointedInnerDeacon,with every prospect of some day succeeding McGinty as Bodymaster,wasnowsonecessarytothecouncilsof hiscomradesthatnothingwasdonewithouthishelp and advice. The more popular he became, however, withtheFreemen,theblackerwerethescowlswhich greetedhimashepassedalongthestreetsofVermissa.</s>Inspiteoftheirterrorthecitizensweretakingheart tobandthemselvestogetheragainsttheiroppressors.</s>Rumourshadreachedthelodgeofsecretgatherings in the Herald office and of distribution of firearms amongthelaw-abidingpeople. ButMcGintyandhis men were undisturbed by such reports. They were numerous,resolute,andwellarmed. Theiropponents werescatteredandpowerless. Itwouldallend,asit haddoneinthepast,inaimlesstalkandpossiblyin impotentarrests. SosaidMcGinty,McMurdo,andall thebolderspirits.</s>It was a Saturday evening in May. Saturday was alwaysthelodgenight,andMcMurdowasleavinghis housetoattenditwhenMorris,theweakerbrotherof theorder,cametoseehim. Hisbrowwascreasedwith care,andhiskindlyfacewasdrawnandhaggard.</s>“CanIspeakwithyoufreely,Mr.McMurdo?” “Sure.” “Ican’tforgetthatIspokemyhearttoyouonce, andthatyoukeptittoyourself,eventhoughtheBoss himselfcametoaskyouaboutit.” “WhatelsecouldIdoifyoutrustedme? Itwasn’t thatIagreedwithwhatyousaid.” “Iknowthatwell. ButyouaretheonethatIcan speak to and be safe. I’ve a secret here,” he put his handtohisbreast,“anditisjustburningthelifeout ofme. Iwishithadcometoanyoneofyoubutme.</s>IfItellit,itwillmeanmurder,forsure. IfIdon’t,it may bring the end of us all. God help me, but I am nearoutofmywitsoverit!” McMurdo looked at the man earnestly. He was tremblingineverylimb. Hepouredsomewhiskyinto aglassandhandedittohim. “That’sthephysicfor thelikesofyou,”saidhe. “Nowletmehearofit.” Morris drank, and his white face took a tinge of colour. “Icantellittoyouallinonesentence,”said he. “There’sadetectiveonourtrail.” McMurdo stared at him in astonishment. “Why, man, you’re crazy,” he said. “Isn’t the place full of TER VI.</s>nger policeanddetectivesandwhatharmdidtheyeverdo us?” “No, no, it’s no man of the district. As you say, we know them, and it is little that they can do. But you’veheardofPinkerton’s?” “I’vereadofsomefolkofthatname.” “Well, you can take it from me you’ve no show whentheyareonyourtrail. It’snotatake-it-or-miss- it government concern. It’s a dead earnest business propositionthat’soutforresultsandkeepsouttillby hookorcrookitgetsthem. IfaPinkertonmanisdeep inthisbusiness,wearealldestroyed.” “Wemustkillhim.” “Ah, it’s the first thought that came to you! So it will be up at the lodge. Didn’t I say to you that it wouldendinmurder?” “Sure, what is murder? Isn’t it common enough intheseparts?” “Itis,indeed;butit’snotformetopointoutthe manthatistobemurdered. I’dneverresteasyagain.</s>And yet it’s our own necks that may be at stake. In God’s name what shall I do?” He rocked to and fro inhisagonyofindecision.</s>ButhiswordshadmovedMcMurdodeeply. Itwas easy to see that he shared the other’s opinion as to thedanger,andtheneedformeetingit. Hegripped Morris’sshoulderandshookhiminhisearnestness.</s>“Seehere,man,”hecried,andhealmostscreeched thewordsinhisexcitement,“youwon’tgainanything by sitting keening like an old wife at a wake. Let’s havethefacts. Whoisthefellow? Whereishe? How didyouhearofhim? Whydidyoucometome?” “Icametoyou;foryouaretheonemanthatwould advise me. I told you that I had a store in the East beforeIcamehere. Ileftgoodfriendsbehindme,and oneofthemisinthetelegraphservice. Here’saletter thatIhadfromhimyesterday. It’sthispartfromthe topofthepage. Youcanreadityourself.” ThiswaswhatMcMurdoread:HowaretheScowrersgettingoninyour parts? We read plenty of them in the pa- pers. Between you and me I expect to hearnewsfromyoubeforelong. Fivebig corporations and the two railroads have takenthethingupindeadearnest. They meanit,andyoucanbetthey’llgetthere! Theyarerightdeepdownintoit. Pinker- tonhastakenholdundertheirorders,and hisbestman,BirdyEdwards,isoperating.</s>Thethinghasgottobestoppedrightnow.</s>“Nowreadthepostscript.” Of course, what I give you is what I learnedinbusiness;soitgoesnofurther.</s>It’saqueercipherthatyouhandlebythe yard every day and can get no meaning from.</s>McMurdo sat in silence for some time, with the letter in his listless hands. The mist had lifted for a moment,andtherewastheabyssbeforehim.</s>“Doesanyoneelseknowofthis?”heasked.</s>“Ihavetoldnooneelse.” “But this man—your friend—has he any other personthathewouldbelikelytowriteto?” “Well,Idaresayheknowsoneortwomore.” “Ofthelodge?” “It’slikelyenough.” “I was asking because it is likely that he may havegivensomedescriptionofthisfellowBirdyEd- wards—thenwecouldgetonhistrail.” “Well, it’s possible. But I should not think he knewhim. Heisjusttellingmethenewsthatcame tohimbywayofbusiness. Howwouldheknowthis Pinkertonman?” McMurdogaveaviolentstart.</s>“By Gar!” he cried, “I’ve got him. What a fool I wasnottoknowit. Lord! butwe’reinluck! Wewill fixhimbeforehecandoanyharm. Seehere,Morris, willyouleavethisthinginmyhands?” “Sure,ifyouwillonlytakeitoffmine.” “I’lldothat. Youcanstandrightbackandletme run it. Even your name need not be mentioned. I’ll takeitallonmyself,asifitweretomethatthisletter hascome. Willthatcontentyou?” “It’sjustwhatIwouldask.” “Then leave it at that and keep your head shut.</s>NowI’llgetdowntothelodge,andwe’llsoonmake oldmanPinkertonsorryforhimself.” “Youwouldn’tkillthisman?” “Thelessyouknow,FriendMorris,theeasieryour consciencewillbe,andthebetteryouwillsleep. Ask noquestions,andletthesethingssettlethemselves. I haveholdofitnow.” Morrisshookhisheadsadlyasheleft. “Ifeelthat hisbloodisonmyhands,”hegroaned.</s>“Self-protectionisnomurder,anyhow,”saidMc- Murdo, smiling grimly. “It’s him or us. I guess this man would destroy us all if we left him long in the valley. Why, Brother Morris, we’ll have to elect you Bodymasteryet;foryou’vesurelysavedthelodge.” And yet it was clear from his actions that he thought more seriously of this new intrusion than his words would show. It may have been his guilty conscience, it may have been the reputation of the Pinkertonorganization,itmayhavebeentheknowl- edgethatgreat,richcorporationshadsetthemselves the task of clearing out the Scowrers; but, whatever his reason, his actions were those of a man who is preparingfortheworst. Everypaperwhichwouldin- criminatehimwasdestroyedbeforeheleftthehouse.</s>After that he gave a long sigh of satisfaction; for it seemedtohimthathewassafe. Andyetthedanger must still have pressed somewhat upon him; for on hiswaytothelodgehestoppedatoldmanShafter’s.</s>Thehousewasforbiddenhim;butwhenhetappedat thewindowEttiecameouttohim. ThedancingIrish deviltryhadgonefromherlover’seyes. Shereadhis dangerinhisearnestface.</s>“Somethinghashappened!”shecried. “Oh,Jack, youareindanger!” “Sure,itisnotverybad,mysweetheart. Andyetit maybewisethatwemakeamovebeforeitisworse.” “Makeamove?” “I promised you once that I would go some day.</s>Ithinkthetimeiscoming. Ihadnewsto-night,bad news,andIseetroublecoming.” “Thepolice?” “Well,aPinkerton. But,sure,youwouldn’tknow what that is, acushla, nor what it may mean to the likesofme. I’mtoodeepinthisthing,andImayhave togetoutofitquick. Yousaidyouwouldcomewith meifIwent.” “Oh,Jack,itwouldbethesavingofyou!” “I’m an honest man in some things, Ettie. I wouldn’thurtahairofyourbonnyheadforallthattheworldcangive,noreverpullyoudownoneinch from the golden throne above the clouds where I alwaysseeyou. Wouldyoutrustme?” She put her hand in his without a word. “Well, then, listen to what I say, and do as I order you, for indeed it’s the only way for us. Things are going to happeninthisvalley. Ifeelitinmybones. Theremay bemanyofusthatwillhavetolookoutforourselves.</s>I’mone,anyhow. IfIgo,bydayornight,it’syouthat mustcomewithme!” “I’dcomeafteryou,Jack.” “No,no,youshallcomewithme. Ifthisvalleyis closed to me and I can never come back, how can I leaveyoubehind,andmeperhapsinhidingfromthe policewithneverachanceofamessage? It’swithme youmustcome. IknowagoodwomanintheplaceI comefrom,andit’sthereI’dleaveyoutillwecanget married. Willyoucome?” “Yes,Jack,Iwillcome.” “God bless you for your trust in me! It’s a fiend outofhellthatIshouldbeifIabusedit. Now,mark you,Ettie,itwillbejustawordtoyou,andwhenit reachesyou,youwilldropeverythingandcomeright downtothewaitingroomatthedepotandstaythere tillIcomeforyou.” “Dayornight,I’llcomeattheword,Jack.” Somewhateasedinmind,nowthathisownprepa- rations for escape had been begun, McMurdo went ontothelodge. Ithadalreadyassembled,andonly bycomplicatedsignsandcounter-signscouldhepass throughtheouterguardandinnerguardwhoclose- tiled it. A buzz of pleasure and welcome greeted himasheentered. Thelongroomwascrowded,and throughthehazeoftobaccosmokehesawthetangled blackmaneoftheBodymaster,thecruel,unfriendly featuresofBaldwin,thevulturefaceofHarraway,the secretary, and a dozen more who were among the leadersofthelodge. Herejoicedthattheyshouldall betheretotakecounseloverhisnews.</s>“Indeed, it’s glad we are to see you, Brother!” criedthechairman. “There’sbusinessherethatwants aSolomoninjudgmenttosetitright.” “It’sLanderandEgan,”explainedhisneighbour ashetookhisseat. “Theybothclaimtheheadmoney givenbythelodgefortheshootingofoldmanCrabbe overatStylestown,andwho’stosaywhichfiredthe bullet?” McMurdo rose in his place and raised his hand.</s>The expression of his face froze the attention of the audience. Therewasadeadhushofexpectation.</s>“EminentBodymaster,”hesaid,inasolemnvoice, “Iclaimurgency!” “BrotherMcMurdoclaimsurgency,”saidMcGinty.</s>“It’saclaimthatbytherulesofthislodgetakesprece- dence. NowBrother,weattendyou.” McMurdotooktheletterfromhispocket.</s>“EminentBodymasterandBrethren,”hesaid,“I amthebearerofillnewsthisday;butitisbetterthat itshouldbeknownanddiscussed,thanthatablow should fall upon us without warning which would destroyusall. Ihaveinformationthatthemostpower- fulandrichestorganizationsinthisstatehavebound themselves together for our destruction, and that at thisverymomentthereisaPinkertondetective,one Birdy Edwards, at work in the valley collecting the evidence which may put a rope round the necks of manyofus,andsendeverymaninthisroomintoa felon’scell. Thatisthesituationforthediscussionof whichIhavemadeaclaimofurgency.” There was a dead silence in the room. It was brokenbythechairman.</s>“What is your evidence for this, Brother Mc- Murdo?”heasked.</s>“Itisinthisletterwhichhascomeintomyhands,” said McMurdo. He read the passage aloud. “It is a matterofhonourwithmethatIcangivenofurther particularsabouttheletter,norputitintoyourhands; butIassureyouthatthereisnothingelseinitwhich can affect the interests of the lodge. I put the case beforeyouasithasreachedme.” “Letmesay,Mr.Chairman,”saidoneoftheolder brethren, “that I have heard of Birdy Edwards, and that he has the name of being the best man in the Pinkertonservice.” “Does anyone know him by sight?” asked McGinty.</s>“Yes,”saidMcMurdo,“Ido.” Therewasamurmurofastonishmentthroughthe hall.</s>“Ibelieveweholdhiminthehollowofourhands,” hecontinuedwithanexultingsmileuponhisface. “If weactquicklyandwisely,wecancutthisthingshort.</s>IfIhaveyourconfidenceandyourhelp,itislittlethat wehavetofear.” “What have we to fear, anyhow? What can he knowofouraffairs?” “You might say so if all were as stanch as you, Councillor. But this man has all the millions of the capitalists at his back. Do you think there is no weakerbrotheramongallourlodgesthatcouldnotbebought? Hewillgetatoursecrets—maybehasgot themalready. There’sonlyonesurecure.” “Thatheneverleavesthevalley,”saidBaldwin.</s>McMurdonodded. “Goodforyou,BrotherBald- win,” he said. “You and I have had our differences, butyouhavesaidthetruewordto-night.” “Whereishe,then? Whereshallweknowhim?” “EminentBodymaster,”saidMcMurdo,earnestly, “I would put it to you that this is too vital a thing for us to discuss in open lodge. God forbid that I shouldthrowadoubtonanyonehere;butifsomuch asawordofgossipgottotheearsofthisman,there would be an end of any chance of our getting him.</s>I would ask the lodge to choose a trusty committee, Mr. Chairman—yourself, if I might suggest it, and BrotherBaldwinhere,andfivemore. ThenIcantalk freelyofwhatIknowandofwhatIadviseshouldbe done.” The proposition was at once adopted, and the committee chosen. Besides the chairman and Bald- wintherewerethevulture-facedsecretary,Harraway, TigerCormac,thebrutalyoungassassin,Carter,the treasurer,andthebrothersWillaby,fearlessanddes- peratemenwhowouldstickatnothing.</s>Theusualrevelryofthelodgewasshortandsub- dued: for there was a cloud upon the men’s spirits, and many there for the first time began to see the cloudofavengingLawdriftingupinthatserenesky under which they had dwelt so long. The horrors theyhaddealtouttoothershadbeensomuchapart of their settled lives that the thought of retribution had become a remote one, and so seemed the more startlingnowthatitcamesocloselyuponthem. They brokeupearlyandlefttheirleaderstotheircouncil.</s>“Now,McMurdo!”saidMcGintywhentheywere alone. Thesevenmensatfrozenintheirseats.</s>“IsaidjustnowthatIknewBirdyEdwards,”Mc- Murdoexplained. “Ineednottellyouthatheisnot here under that name. He’s a brave man, but not a crazyone. HepassesunderthenameofSteveWilson, andheislodgingatHobson’sPatch.” “Howdoyouknowthis?” “BecauseIfellintotalkwithhim. Ithoughtlittle of it at the time, nor would have given it a second thought but for this letter; but now I’m sure it’s the man. ImethimonthecarswhenIwentdowntheline onWednesday—ahardcaseifevertherewasone. He saidhewasareporter. Ibelieveditforthemoment.</s>WantedtoknowallhecouldabouttheScowrersand what he called ‘the outrages’ for a New York paper.</s>Asked me every kind of question so as to get some- thing. YoubetIwasgivingnothingaway. ‘I’dpayfor itandpaywell,’saidhe,‘ifIcouldgetsomestuffthat would suit my editor.’ I said what I thought would please him best, and he handed me a twenty-dollar bill for my information. ‘There’s ten times that for you,’saidhe,‘ifyoucanfindmeallthatIwant.’” “Whatdidyoutellhim,then?” “AnystuffIcouldmakeup.” “Howdoyouknowhewasn’tanewspaperman?” “I’ll tell you. He got out at Hobson’s Patch, and sodidI.Ichancedintothetelegraphbureau,andhe wasleavingit.</s>“‘Seehere,’saidtheoperatorafterhe’dgoneout, ‘I guess we should charge double rates for this.’—‘I guessyoushould,’saidI.Hehadfilledtheformwith stuffthatmighthavebeenChinese,forallwecould makeofit. ‘Hefiresasheetofthisoffeveryday,’said theclerk. ‘Yes,’saidI;‘it’sspecialnewsforhispaper, and he’s scared that the others should tap it.’ That waswhattheoperatorthoughtandwhatIthoughtat thetime;butIthinkdifferentlynow.” “By Gar! I believe you are right,” said McGinty.</s>“Butwhatdoyouallowthatweshoulddoaboutit?” “Whynotgorightdownnowandfixhim?”some- onesuggested.</s>“Ay,thesoonerthebetter.” “I’d start this next minute if I knew where we couldfindhim,”saidMcMurdo. “He’sinHobson’s Patch; but I don’t know the house. I’ve got a plan, though,ifyou’llonlytakemyadvice.” “Well,whatisit?” “I’llgotothePatchto-morrowmorning. I’llfind himthroughtheoperator. Hecanlocatehim,Iguess.</s>Well,thenI’lltellhimthatI’maFreemanmyself. I’ll offerhimallthesecretsofthelodgeforaprice. You bet he’ll tumble to it. I’ll tell him the papers are at myhouse,andthatit’sasmuchasmylifewouldbe worthtolethimcomewhilefolkwereabout. He’llsee that that’s horse sense. Let him come at ten o’clock atnight,andheshallseeeverything. Thatwillfetch himsure.” “Well?” “Youcanplantherestforyourselves. WidowMac- Namara’sisalonelyhouse. She’sastrueassteeland asdeafasapost. There’sonlyScanlanandmeinthe house. If I get his promise—and I’ll let you know if I do—I’d have the whole seven of you come to me bynineo’clock. We’llgethimin. Ifeverhegetsout alive—well, he can talk of Birdy Edwards’s luck for therestofhisdays!” “There’s going to be a vacancy at Pinkerton’s or I’m mistaken. Leave it at that, McMurdo. At nine to-morrowwe’llbewithyou. Youoncegetthedoor shutbehindhim,andyoucanleavetherestwithus.”CHAPT he rapping o T T As McMurdo had said, the house in which he livedwasalonelyoneandverywellsuitedforsuch a crime as they had planned. It was on the extreme fringeofthetownandstoodwellbackfromtheroad.</s>Inanyothercasetheconspiratorswouldhavesimply calledouttheirman,astheyhadmanyatimebefore, and emptied their pistols into his body; but in this instanceitwasverynecessarytofindouthowmuch heknew,howheknewit,andwhathadbeenpassed ontohisemployers.</s>Itwaspossiblethattheywerealreadytoolateand that the work had been done. If that was indeed so, theycouldatleasthavetheirrevengeupontheman whohaddoneit. Buttheywerehopefulthatnothing of great importance had yet come to the detective’s knowledge,asotherwise,theyargued,hewouldnot havetroubledtowritedownandforwardsuchtrivial informationasMcMurdoclaimedtohavegivenhim.</s>However,allthistheywouldlearnfromhisownlips.</s>Onceintheirpower,theywouldfindawaytomake him speak. It was not the first time that they had handledanunwillingwitness.</s>McMurdowenttoHobson’sPatchasagreed. The policeseemedtotakeparticularinterestinhimthat morning,andCaptainMarvin—hewhohadclaimed theoldacquaintancewithhimatChicago—actually addressedhimashewaitedatthestation. McMurdo turned away and refused to speak with him. He wasbackfromhismissionintheafternoon,andsaw McGintyattheUnionHouse.</s>“Heiscoming,”hesaid.</s>“Good!”saidMcGinty. Thegiantwasinhisshirt sleeves, with chains and seals gleaming athwart his ample waistcoat and a diamond twinkling through the fringe of his bristling beard. Drink and politics had made the Boss a very rich as well as power- ful man. The more terrible, therefore, seemed that glimpseoftheprisonorthegallowswhichhadrisen beforehimthenightbefore.</s>“Doyoureckonheknowsmuch?”heaskedanx- iously.</s>McMurdo shook his head gloomily. “He’s been here some time—six weeks at the least. I guess he didn’t come into these parts to look at the prospect.</s>If he has been working among us all that time with the railroad money at his back, I should expect that hehasgotresults,andthathehaspassedthemon.” TER VII.</s>f irdy dwards B E “There’s not a weak man in the lodge,” cried McGinty. “True as steel, every man of them. And yet, by the Lord! there is that skunk Morris. What abouthim? Ifanymangivesusaway,itwouldbehe.</s>I’veamindtosendacoupleoftheboysroundbefore eveningtogivehimabeatingupandseewhatthey cangetfromhim.” “Well,therewouldbenoharminthat,”McMurdo answered. “Iwon’tdenythatIhavealikingforMor- risandwouldbesorrytoseehimcometoharm. He has spoken to me once or twice over lodge matters, andthoughhemaynotseethemthesameasyouor I,heneverseemedthesortthatsqueals. Butstillitis notformetostandbetweenhimandyou.” “I’llfixtheolddevil!”saidMcGintywithanoath.</s>“I’vehadmyeyeonhimthisyearpast.” “Well, you know best about that,” McMurdo an- swered. “But whatever you do must be to-morrow; forwemustlielowuntilthePinkertonaffairissettled up. Wecan’taffordtosetthepolicebuzzing,to-day ofalldays.” “True for you,” said McGinty. “And we’ll learn fromBirdyEdwardshimselfwherehegothisnews if we have to cut his heart out first. Did he seem to scentatrap?” McMurdo laughed. “I guess I took him on his weakpoint,”hesaid. “Ifhecouldgetonagoodtrail of the Scowrers, he’s ready to follow it into hell. I tookhismoney,”McMurdogrinnedasheproduced a wad of dollar notes, “and as much more when he hasseenallmypapers.” “Whatpapers?” “Well, there are no papers. But I filled him up aboutconstitutionsandbooksofrulesandformsof membership. Heexpectstogetrightdowntotheend ofeverythingbeforeheleaves.” “Faith, he’s right there,” said McGinty grimly.</s>“Didn’t he ask you why you didn’t bring him the papers?” “As if I would carry such things, and me a sus- pected man, and Captain Marvin after speaking to methisverydayatthedepot!” “Ay, I heard of that,” said McGinty. “I guess the heavy end of this business is coming on to you. We could put him down an old shaft when we’ve done with him; but however we work it we can’t get past themanlivingatHobson’sPatchandyoubeingthere to-day.”McMurdoshruggedhisshoulders. “Ifwehandle it right, they can never prove the killing,” said he.</s>“No one can see him come to the house after dark, andI’lllaytoitthatnoonewillseehimgo. Nowsee here, Councillor, I’ll show you my plan and I’ll ask youtofittheothersintoit. Youwillallcomeingood time. Verywell. Hecomesatten. Heistotapthree times,andmetoopenthedoorforhim. ThenI’llget behindhimandshutit. He’sourmanthen.” “That’salleasyandplain.” “Yes; but the next step wants considering. He’s ahardproposition. He’sheavilyarmed. I’ve fooled him proper, and yet he is likely to be on his guard.</s>Suppose I show him right into a room with seven meninitwhereheexpectedtofindmealone. There isgoingtobeshooting,andsomebodyisgoingtobe hurt.” “That’sso.” “And the noise is going to bring every damned copperinthetownshipontopofit.” “Iguessyouareright.” “This is how I should work it. You will all be in thebigroom—sameasyousawwhenyouhadachat withme. I’llopenthedoorforhim,showhimintothe parlourbesidethedoor,andleavehimtherewhileI getthepapers. Thatwillgivemethechanceoftelling you how things are shaping. Then I will go back to himwithsomefakedpapers. AsheisreadingthemI willjumpforhimandgetmygriponhispistolarm.</s>You’llhearmecallandinyouwillrush. Thequicker the better; for he is as strong a man as I, and I may havemorethanIcanmanage. ButIallowthatIcan holdhimtillyoucome.” “It’sagoodplan,”saidMcGinty. “Thelodgewill oweyouadebtforthis. IguesswhenImoveoutof thechairIcanputanametothemanthat’scoming afterme.” “Sure,Councillor,Iamlittlemorethanarecruit,” saidMcMurdo;buthisfaceshowedwhathethought ofthegreatman’scompliment.</s>When he had returned home he made his own preparations for the grim evening in front of him.</s>Firsthecleaned,oiled,andloadedhisSmith&Wes- sonrevolver. Thenhesurveyedtheroominwhichthe detectivewastobetrapped. Itwasalargeapartment, withalongdealtableinthecentre,andthebigstove atoneside. Ateachoftheothersideswerewindows.</s>Therewerenoshuttersonthese: onlylightcurtains whichdrewacross. McMurdoexaminedtheseatten- tively. No doubt it must have struck him that the apartmentwasveryexposedforsosecretameeting.</s>Yet its distance from the road made it of less con- sequence. Finally he discussed the matter with his fellowlodger. Scanlan,thoughaScowrer,wasaninof- fensivelittlemanwhowastooweaktostandagainst the opinion of his comrades, but was secretly horri- fiedbythedeedsofbloodatwhichhehadsometimes beenforcedtoassist. McMurdotoldhimshortlywhat wasintended.</s>“AndifIwereyou,MikeScanlan,Iwouldtakea night off and keep clear of it. There will be bloody workherebeforemorning.” “Well,indeedthen,Mac,”Scanlananswered. “It’s notthewillbutthenervethatiswantinginme. When IsawManagerDunngodownatthecollieryyonder itwasjustmorethanIcouldstand. I’mnotmadefor it, same as you or McGinty. If the lodge will think nonetheworseofme,I’lljustdoasyouadviseand leaveyoutoyourselvesfortheevening.” The men came in good time as arranged. They were outwardly respectable citizens, well clad and cleanly; but a judge of faces would have read little hope for Birdy Edwards in those hard mouths and remorseless eyes. There was not a man in the room whose hands had not been reddened a dozen times before. Theywereashardenedtohumanmurderas abutchertosheep.</s>Foremost, of course, both in appearance and in guilt,wastheformidableBoss. Harraway,thesecre- tary,wasalean,bittermanwithalong,scraggyneck and nervous, jerky limbs, a man of incorruptible fi- delitywherethefinancesoftheorderwereconcerned, andwithnonotionofjusticeorhonestytoanyonebe- yond. Thetreasurer,Carter,wasamiddle-agedman, withanimpassive,rathersulkyexpression,andayel- lowparchmentskin. Hewasacapableorganizer,and theactualdetailsofnearlyeveryoutragehadsprung fromhisplottingbrain. ThetwoWillabysweremen of action, tall, lithe young fellows with determined faces,whiletheircompanion,TigerCormac,aheavy, darkyouth,wasfearedevenbyhisowncomradesfor the ferocity of his disposition. These were the men whoassembledthatnightundertheroofofMcMurdo forthekillingofthePinkertondetective.</s>Theirhosthadplacedwhiskyuponthetable,and theyhadhastenedtoprimethemselvesforthework beforethem. BaldwinandCormacwerealreadyhalf- drunk, and the liquor had brought out all their fe- rocity. Cormac placed his hands on the stove for an instant—ithadbeenlighted,forthenightswerestill cold.</s>“Thatwilldo,”saidhe,withanoath.“Ay,”saidBaldwin,catchinghismeaning. “Ifhe isstrappedtothat,wewillhavethetruthoutofhim.” “We’llhavethetruthoutofhim,neverfear,”said McMurdo. He had nerves of steel, this man; for thoughthewholeweightoftheaffairwasonhimhis manner was as cool and unconcerned as ever. The othersmarkeditandapplauded.</s>“Youaretheonetohandlehim,”saidtheBossap- provingly. “Notawarningwillhegettillyourhand is on his throat. It’s a pity there are no shutters to yourwindows.” McMurdo went from one to the other and drew the curtains tighter. “Sure no one can spy upon us now. It’scloseuponthehour.” “Maybehewon’tcome. Maybehe’llgetasniffof danger,”saidthesecretary.</s>“He’llcome,neverfear,”McMurdoanswered. “He isaseagertocomeasyoucanbetoseehim. Harkto that!” They all sat like wax figures, some with their glasses arrested halfway to their lips. Three loud knockshadsoundedatthedoor.</s>“Hush!”McMurdoraisedhishandincaution. An exultingglancewentroundthecircle,andhandswere laiduponhiddenweapons.</s>“Not a sound, for your lives!” McMurdo whis- pered, as he went from the room, closing the door carefullybehindhim.</s>With strained ears the murderers waited. They countedthestepsoftheircomradedownthepassage.</s>Thentheyheardhimopentheouterdoor. Therewere afewwordsasofgreeting. Thentheywereawareof astrangestepinsideandofanunfamiliarvoice. An instantlatercametheslamofthedoorandtheturn- ingofthekeyinthelock. Theirpreywassafewithin the trap. Tiger Cormac laughed horribly, and Boss McGintyclappedhisgreathandacrosshismouth.</s>“Bequiet,youfool!”hewhispered. “You’llbethe undoingofusyet!” Therewasamutterofconversationfromthenext room. Itseemedinterminable. Thenthedooropened, andMcMurdoappeared,hisfingeruponhislip.</s>Hecametotheendofthetableandlookedround at them. A subtle change had come over him. His mannerwasasofonewhohasgreatworktodo. His face had set into granite firmness. His eyes shone withafierceexcitementbehindhisspectacles. Hehad become a visible leader of men. They stared at him witheagerinterest;buthesaidnothing. Stillwiththe samesingulargazehelookedfrommantoman.</s>“Well!”criedBossMcGintyatlast. “Ishehere? Is BirdyEdwardshere?” “Yes,” McMurdo answered slowly. “Birdy Ed- wardsishere. IamBirdyEdwards!” There were ten seconds after that brief speech during which the room might have been empty, so profoundwasthesilence. Thehissingofakettleupon the stove rose sharp and strident to the ear. Seven whitefaces,allturnedupwardtothismanwhodom- inated them, were set motionless with utter terror.</s>Then, with a sudden shivering of glass, a bristle of glistening rifle barrels broke through each window, whilethecurtainsweretornfromtheirhangings.</s>At the sight Boss McGinty gave the roar of a woundedbearandplungedforthehalf-openeddoor.</s>Alevelledrevolvermethimtherewiththesternblue eyesofCaptainMarvinoftheMinePolicegleaming behindthesights. TheBossrecoiledandfellbackinto hischair.</s>“You’re safer there, Councillor,” said the man whom they had known as McMurdo. “And you, Baldwin,ifyoudon’ttakeyourhandoffyourpistol, you’ll cheat the hangman yet. Pull it out, or by the Lord that made me—There, that will do. There are fortyarmedmenroundthishouse,andyoucanfigure itoutforyourselfwhatchanceyouhave. Taketheir pistols,Marvin!” Therewasnopossibleresistanceunderthemen- ace of those rifles. The men were disarmed. Sulky, sheepish,andamazed,theystillsatroundthetable.</s>“I’dliketosayawordtoyoubeforeweseparate,” said the man who had trapped them. “I guess we maynotmeetagainuntilyouseemeonthestandin thecourthouse. I’llgiveyousomethingtothinkover betweennowandthen. Youknowmenowforwhat I am. At last I can put my cards on the table. I am BirdyEdwardsofPinkerton’s. Iwaschosentobreak upyourgang. Ihadahardanddangerousgameto play. Not a soul, not one soul, not my nearest and dearest, knew that I was playing it. Only Captain Marvin here and my employers knew that. But it’s overto-night,thankGod,andIamthewinner!” Thesevenpale,rigidfaceslookedupathim. There was unappeasable hatred in their eyes. He read the relentlessthreat.</s>“Maybe you think that the game is not over yet.</s>Well,Itakemychanceofthat. Anyhow,someofyou will take no further hand, and there are sixty more besides yourselves that will see a jail this night. I’ll tellyouthis,thatwhenIwasputuponthisjobInever believedtherewassuchasocietyasyours. Ithought itwaspapertalk,andthatIwouldproveitso. Theytold me it was to do with the Freemen; so I went to Chicago and was made one. Then I was surer than everthatitwasjustpapertalk;forIfoundnoharm inthesociety,butadealofgood.</s>“Still,Ihadtocarryoutmyjob,andIcametothe coalvalleys. WhenIreachedthisplaceIlearnedthat Iwaswrongandthatitwasn’tadimenovelafterall.</s>So I stayed to look after it. I never killed a man in Chicago. I never minted a dollar in my life. Those I gave you were as good as any others; but I never spent money better. But I knew the way into your goodwishesandsoIpretendedtoyouthatthelaw wasafterme. ItallworkedjustasIthought.</s>“So I joined your infernal lodge, and I took my share in your councils. Maybe they will say that I was as bad as you. They can say what they like, so longasIgetyou. Butwhatisthetruth? ThenightI joinedyoubeatupoldmanStanger. Icouldnotwarn him, for there was no time; but I held your hand, Baldwin,whenyouwouldhavekilledhim. IfeverI havesuggestedthings,soastokeepmyplaceamong you,theywerethingswhichIknewIcouldprevent.</s>I could not save Dunn and Menzies, for I did not knowenough;butIwillseethattheirmurderersare hanged. IgaveChesterWilcoxwarning,sothatwhen I blew his house in he and his folk were in hiding.</s>TherewasmanyacrimethatIcouldnotstop;butif you look back and think how often your man came hometheotherroad,orwasdownintownwhenyou wentforhim,orstayedindoorswhenyouthoughthe wouldcomeout,you’llseemywork.” “Youblastedtraitor!”hissedMcGintythroughhis closedteeth.</s>“Ay,JohnMcGinty,youmaycallmethatifiteases yoursmart. Youandyourlikehavebeentheenemy ofGodandmanintheseparts. Ittookamantoget betweenyouandthepoordevilsofmenandwomen that you held under your grip. There was just one way of doing it, and I did it. You call me a traitor; but I guess there’s many a thousand will call me a delivererthatwentdownintohelltosavethem. I’ve had three months of it. I wouldn’t have three such months again if they let me loose in the treasury at Washingtonforit. IhadtostaytillIhaditall,every manandeverysecretrighthereinthishand. I’dhave waitedalittlelonger ifithadn’tcometo myknowl- edge that my secret was coming out. A letter had comeintothetownthatwouldhavesetyouwisetoit all. ThenIhadtoactandactquickly.</s>“I’venothingmoretosaytoyou,exceptthatwhen mytimecomesI’lldietheeasierwhenIthinkofthe work I have done in this valley. Now, Marvin, I’ll keepyounomore. Taketheminandgetitover.” Thereislittlemoretotell. Scanlanhadbeengiven a sealed note to be left at the address of Miss Et- tie Shafter, a mission which he had accepted with a wink and a knowing smile. In the early hours of themorningabeautifulwomanandamuchmuffled manboardedaspecialtrainwhichhadbeensentby the railroad company, and made a swift, unbroken journeyoutofthelandofdanger. Itwasthelasttime thatevereitherEttieorherloversetfootintheValley ofFear. TendayslatertheyweremarriedinChicago, witholdJacobShafteraswitnessofthewedding.</s>The trial of the Scowrers was held far from the placewheretheiradherentsmighthaveterrifiedthe guardiansofthelaw. Invaintheystruggled. Invain the money of the lodge—money squeezed by black- mail out of the whole countryside—was spent like water in the attempt to save them. That cold, clear, unimpassioned statement from one who knew ev- erydetailoftheirlives,theirorganization,andtheir crimeswasunshakenbyallthewilesoftheirdefend- ers. At last after so many years they were broken andscattered. Thecloudwasliftedforeverfromthe valley.</s>McGintymethisfateuponthescaffold,cringing and whining when the last hour came. Eight of his chieffollowerssharedhisfate. Fifty-oddhadvarious degreesofimprisonment. TheworkofBirdyEdwards wascomplete.</s>And yet, as he had guessed, the game was not over yet. Therewasanotherhandtobeplayed, and yet another and another. Ted Baldwin, for one, had escapedthescaffold;sohadtheWillabys;sohadsev- eralothersofthefiercestspiritsofthegang. Forten years they were out of the world, and then came a day when they were free once more—a day which Edwards,whoknewhismen,wasverysurewouldbe an end of his life of peace. They had sworn an oath on all that they thought holy to have his blood as a vengeancefortheircomrades. Andwelltheystrove tokeeptheirvow! FromChicagohewaschased,aftertwoattempts sonearsuccessthatitwassurethatthethirdwould get him. From Chicago he went under a changed name to California, and it was there that the light went for a time out of his life when Ettie Edwards died. Onceagainhewasnearlykilled,andonceagain under the name of Douglas he worked in a lonely canyon,wherewithanEnglishpartnernamedBarker heamassedafortune. Atlasttherecameawarningtohimthatthebloodhoundswereonhistrackonce more,andhecleared—onlyjustintime—forEngland.</s>AndthencecametheJohnDouglaswhoforasecond CHAPT pil E The police trial had passed, in which the case of JohnDouglaswasreferredtoahighercourt. Sohad the Quarter Sessions, at which he was acquitted as havingactedinself-defense.</s>“Get him out of England at any cost,” wrote Holmes to the wife. “There are forces here which may be more dangerous than those he has escaped.</s>ThereisnosafetyforyourhusbandinEngland.” Two months had gone by, and the case had to someextentpassedfromourminds. Thenonemorn- ing there came an enigmatic note slipped into our letter box. “Dear me, Mr. Holmes. Dear me!” said thissingularepistle. Therewasneithersuperscription nor signature. I laughed at the quaint message; but Holmesshowedunwontedseriousness.</s>“Deviltry, Watson!” he remarked, and sat long withacloudedbrow.</s>Late last night Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, brought up a message that a gentleman wished to see Holmes, and that the matter was of the utmost importance. Closeattheheelsofhismessengercame CecilBarker,ourfriendofthemoatedManorHouse.</s>Hisfacewasdrawnandhaggard.</s>“I’vehadbadnews—terriblenews,Mr.Holmes,” saidhe.</s>“Ifearedasmuch,”saidHolmes.</s>“Youhavenothadacable,haveyou?” “Ihavehadanotefromsomeonewhohas.” “It’s poor Douglas. They tell me his name is Ed- wards;buthewillalwaysbeJackDouglasofBenito Canyon to me. I told you that they started together forSouthAfricainthePalmyrathreeweeksago.” “Exactly.” “TheshipreachedCapeTownlastnight. Ireceived thiscablefromMrs.Douglasthismorning:— timemarriedaworthymate,andlivedforfiveyears as a Sussex county gentleman, a life which ended withthestrangehappeningsofwhichwehaveheard.</s>TER VIII.</s>ogue “Jack has been lost overboard in gale off St. Helena. No one knows how accident occurred.</s>—“IvyDouglas.” “Ha! It came like that, did it?” said Holmes, thoughtfully. “Well, I’ve no doubt it was well stage- managed.” “Youmeanthatyouthinktherewasnoaccident?” “Noneintheworld.” “Hewasmurdered?” “Surely!” “So I think also. These infernal Scowrers, this cursedvindictivenestofcriminals—” “No, no, my good sir,” said Holmes. “There is a master hand here. It is no case of sawed-off shot- guns and clumsy six-shooters. You can tell an old masterbythesweepofhisbrush. IcantellaMoriarty whenIseeone. ThiscrimeisfromLondon,notfrom America.” “Butforwhatmotive?” “Because it is done by a man who cannot afford to fail—one whose whole unique position depends uponthefactthatallhedoesmustsucceed. Agreat brain and a huge organization have been turned to theextinctionofoneman. Itiscrushingthenutwith thehammer—anabsurdextravaganceofenergy—but thenutisveryeffectuallycrushedallthesame.” “Howcamethismantohaveanythingtodowith it?” “Icanonlysaythatthefirstwordthatevercame tousofthebusinesswasfromoneofhislieutenants.</s>These Americans were well advised. Having an En- glish job to do, they took into partnership, as any foreign criminal could do, this great consultant in crime. Fromthatmomenttheirmanwasdoomed. At firsthewouldcontenthimselfbyusinghismachineryinordertofindtheirvictim. Thenhewouldindicate how the matter might be treated. Finally, when he read in the reports of the failure of this agent, he wouldstepinhimselfwithamastertouch. Youheard me warn this man at Birlstone Manor House that thecomingdangerwasgreaterthanthepast. WasI right?” Barkerbeathisheadwithhisclenchedfistinhis impotentanger.</s>“Do you tell me that we have to sit down under this? Doyousaythatnoonecanevergetlevelwith thisking-devil?” “No,Idon’tsaythat,”saidHolmes,andhiseyes seemedtobelookingfarintothefuture. “Idon’tsay thathecan’tbebeat. Butyoumustgivemetime—you mustgivemetime!” Weallsatinsilenceforsomeminutes,whilethose fatefuleyesstillstrainedtopiercetheveil.Pre ThefriendsofMr. SherlockHolmeswillbeg somewhatcrippledbyoccasionalattacksofrheu farmuponthedownsfivemilesfromEastbourn and agriculture. During this period of rest he variouscases,havingdeterminedthathisretire Germanwarcausedhim,however,tolayhisrem activityatthedisposalofthegovernment,with Bow. Severalpreviousexperienceswhichhave LastBowsoastocompletethevolume.</s>face ladtolearnthatheisstillaliveandwell,though umatism. Hehas,formanyyears,livedinasmall e,wherehistimeisdividedbetweenphilosophy has refused the most princely offers to take up mentwasapermanentone. Theapproachofthe markablecombinationofintellectualandpractical historicalresultswhicharerecountedinHisLast ainlonginmyportfoliohavebeenaddedtoHis JohnH.Watson,M.D.Table of TheSingularExperienceofMr. John TheTigerofSanPedro..............</s>contents ScottEccles..................... 745 ................................ 750CHAP he ingular xperience T S E finditrecordedinmynotebookthatitwas ableakandwindydaytowardstheendof March in the year 1892. Holmes had re- I ceivedatelegramwhilewesatatourlunch, and he had scribbled a reply. He made no remark, butthematterremainedinhisthoughts,forhestood infrontofthefireafterwardswithathoughtfulface, smoking his pipe, and casting an occasional glance atthemessage. Suddenlyheturneduponmewitha mischievoustwinkleinhiseyes.</s>“I suppose, Watson, we must look upon you as a man of letters,” said he. “How do you define the word‘grotesque’?” “Strange—remarkable,”Isuggested.</s>Heshookhisheadatmydefinition.</s>“Thereissurelysomethingmorethanthat,”said he; “some underlying suggestion of the tragic and the terrible. If you cast your mind back to some of thosenarrativeswithwhichyouhaveafflictedalong- suffering public, you will recognize how often the grotesque has deepened into the criminal. Think of that little affair of the red-headed men. That was grotesque enough in the outset, and yet it ended in adesperateattemptatrobbery. Or,again,therewas that most grotesque affair of the five orange pips, which let straight to a murderous conspiracy. The wordputsmeonthealert.” “Haveyouitthere?”Iasked.</s>Hereadthetelegramaloud.</s>“Have just had most incredible and grotesqueexperience. MayIconsultyou? —“ScottEccles, “PostOffice,CharingCross.” “Manorwoman?”Iasked.</s>“Oh,man,ofcourse. Nowomanwouldeversend areply-paidtelegram. Shewouldhavecome.” “Willyouseehim?” “My dear Watson, you know how bored I have been since we locked up Colonel Carruthers. My mindislikearacingengine,tearingitselftopiecesbe- causeitisnotconnectedupwiththeworkforwhich it was built. Life is commonplace, the papers are sterile; audacity and romance seem to have passed forever from the criminal world. Can you ask me, PTER I.</s>of r ohn cott ccles M . J S E then,whetherIamreadytolookintoanynewprob- lem,howevertrivialitmayprove? Buthere,unlessI ammistaken,isourclient.” Ameasuredstepwashearduponthestairs,and a moment later a stout, tall, gray-whiskered and solemnly respectable person was ushered into the room. His life history was written in his heavy fea- tures and pompous manner. From his spats to his gold-rimmed spectacles he was a Conservative, a churchman, a good citizen, orthodox and conven- tionaltothelastdegree. Butsomeamazingexperience haddisturbedhisnativecomposureandleftitstraces inhisbristlinghair,hisflushed,angrycheeks,andhis flurried, excited manner. He plunged instantly into hisbusiness.</s>“I have had a most singular and unpleasant ex- perience, Mr. Holmes,” said he. “Never in my life haveIbeenplacedinsuchasituation. Itismostim- proper—most outrageous. I must insist upon some explanation.”Heswelledandpuffedinhisanger.</s>“Praysitdown,Mr.ScottEccles,”saidHolmesin a soothing voice. “May I ask, in the first place, why youcametomeatall?” “Well,sir,itdidnotappeartobeamatterwhich concernedthepolice,andyet,whenyouhaveheard the facts, you must admit that I could not leave it whereitwas. Privatedetectivesareaclasswithwhom Ihaveabsolutelynosympathy,butnonetheless,hav- ingheardyourname—” “Quiteso. But,inthesecondplace,whydidyou notcomeatonce?” “Whatdoyoumean?” Holmesglancedathiswatch.</s>“Itisaquarter-pasttwo,”hesaid. “Yourtelegram wasdispatchedaboutone. Butnoonecanglanceat yourtoiletandattirewithoutseeingthatyourdistur- bancedatesfromthemomentofyourwaking.” Ourclientsmootheddownhisunbrushedhairand felthisunshavenchin.</s>“Youareright,Mr.Holmes. Inevergaveathought to my toilet. I was only too glad to get out of such a house. But I have been running round making in- quiries before I came to you. I went to the house agents,youknow,andtheysaidthatMr.Garcia’srent waspaidupallrightandthateverythingwasinorder atWisteriaLodge.”“Come,come,sir,”saidHolmes,laughing. “You arelikemyfriend,Dr.Watson,whohasabadhabitof tellinghisstorieswrongendforemost. Pleasearrange yourthoughtsandletmeknow,intheirduesequence, exactly what those events are which have sent you out unbrushed and unkempt, with dress boots and waistcoatbuttonedawry,insearchofadviceandas- sistance.” Ourclientlookeddownwitharuefulfaceathis ownunconventionalappearance.</s>“I’msureitmustlookverybad,Mr.Holmes,and Iamnotawarethatinmywholelifesuchathinghas ever happened before. But will tell you the whole queerbusiness,andwhenIhavedonesoyouwillad- mit,Iamsure,thattherehasbeenenoughtoexcuse me.” Buthisnarrativewasnippedinthebud. Therewas abustleoutside,andMrs.Hudsonopenedthedoor tousherintworobustandofficial-lookingindividu- als,oneofwhomwaswellknowntousasInspector GregsonofScotlandYard,anenergetic,gallant,and, within his limitations, a capable officer. He shook hands with Holmes and introduced his comrade as InspectorBaynes,oftheSurreyConstabulary.</s>“We are hunting together, Mr. Holmes, and our traillayinthisdirection.”Heturnedhisbulldogeyes uponourvisitor. “AreyouMr.JohnScottEccles,of PophamHouse,Lee?” “Iam.” “Wehavebeenfollowingyouaboutallthemorn- ing.” “Youtracedhimthroughthetelegram,nodoubt,” saidHolmes.</s>“Exactly,Mr.Holmes. Wepickedupthescentat CharingCrossPost-Officeandcameonhere.” “Butwhydoyoufollowme? Whatdoyouwant?” “Wewishastatement,Mr.ScottEccles,astothe events which let up to the death last night of Mr.</s>AloysiusGarcia,ofWisteriaLodge,nearEsher.” Ourclienthadsatupwithstaringeyesandevery tingeofcolourstruckfromhisastonishedface.</s>“Dead? Didyousayhewasdead?” “Yes,sir,heisdead.” “Buthow? Anaccident?” “Murder,ifevertherewasoneuponearth.” “GoodGod! Thisisawful! Youdon’tmean—you don’tmeanthatIamsuspected?” “A letter of yours was found in the dead man’s pocket, and we know by it that you had planned to passlastnightathishouse.” “SoIdid.” “Oh,youdid,didyou?” Outcametheofficialnotebook.</s>“Waitabit,Gregson,”saidSherlockHolmes. “All youdesireisaplainstatement,isitnot?” “AnditismydutytowarnMr.ScottEcclesthatit maybeusedagainsthim.” “Mr.Eccleswasgoingtotellusaboutitwhenyou enteredtheroom. Ithink,Watson,abrandyandsoda woulddohimnoharm. Now,sir,Isuggestthatyou takenonoticeofthisadditiontoyouraudience,and thatyouproceedwithyournarrativeexactlyasyou wouldhavedonehadyouneverbeeninterrupted.” Our visitor had gulped off the brandy and the colourhadreturnedtohisface. Withadubiousglance attheinspector’snotebook,heplungedatonceinto hisextraordinarystatement.</s>“Iamabachelor,”saidhe,“andbeingofasociable turn I cultivate a large number of friends. Among thesearethefamilyofaretiredbrewercalledMelville, livingatAbermarleMansion, Kensington. Itwas at his table that I met some weeks ago a young fellow namedGarcia. Hewas,Iunderstood,ofSpanishde- scentandconnectedinsomewaywiththeembassy.</s>He spoke perfect English, was pleasing in his man- ners,andasgood-lookingamanaseverIsawinmy life.</s>“Insomewaywestruckupquiteafriendship,this youngfellowandI.Heseemedtotakeafancytome from the first, and within two days of our meeting he came to see me at Lee. One thing led to another, and it ended in his inviting me out to spend a few daysathishouse,WisteriaLodge,betweenEsherand Oxshott. Yesterday evening I went to Esher to fulfil thisengagement.</s>“He had described his household to me before I wentthere. Helivedwithafaithfulservant,acountry- manofhisown,wholookedafterallhisneeds. This fellowcouldspeakEnglishanddidhishousekeeping forhim. Thentherewasawonderfulcook,hesaid,a half-breedwhomhehadpickedupinhistravels,who couldserveanexcellentdinner. Irememberthathe remarkedwhataqueerhouseholditwastofindinthe heartofSurrey,andthatIagreedwithhim,thoughit hasprovedagooddealqueererthanIthought.</s>“I drove to the place—about two miles on the south side of Esher. The house was a fair-sized one, standing back from the road, with a curving drive whichwasbankedwithhighevergreenshrubs. Itwasanold,tumbledownbuildinginacrazystateofdis- repair. Whenthetrappulleduponthegrass-grown drive in front of the blotched and weather-stained door, I had doubts as to my wisdom in visiting a man whom I knew so slightly. He opened the door himself,however,andgreetedmewithagreatshow of cordiality. I was handed over to the manservant, a melancholy, swarthy individual, who led the way, my bag in his hand, to my bedroom. The whole placewasdepressing. Ourdinnerwasteˆte-a`-teˆte,and though my host did his best to be entertaining, his thoughtsseemedtocontinuallywander,andhetalked sovaguelyandwildlythatIcouldhardlyunderstand him. Hecontinuallydrummedhisfingersontheta- ble,gnawedhisnails,andgaveothersignsofnervous impatience. Thedinneritselfwasneitherwellserved norwellcooked,andthegloomypresenceofthetaci- turnservantdidnothelptoenlivenus. Icanassure you that many times in the course of the evening I wishedthatIcouldinventsomeexcusewhichwould takemebacktoLee.</s>“Onethingcomesbacktomymemorywhichmay haveabearinguponthebusinessthatyoutwogentle- menareinvestigating. Ithoughtnothingofitatthe time. Neartheendofdinneranotewashandedinby the servant. I noticed that after my host had read it heseemedevenmoredistraitandstrangethanbefore.</s>Hegaveupallpretenceatconversationandsat,smok- ing endless cigarettes, lost in his own thoughts, but hemadenoremarkastothecontents. AboutelevenI wasgladtogotobed. SometimelaterGarcialooked inatmydoor—theroomwasdarkatthetime—and asked me if I had rung. I said that I had not. He apologized for having disturbed me so late, saying thatitwasnearlyoneo’clock. Idroppedoffafterthis andsleptsoundlyallnight.</s>“AndnowIcometotheamazingpartofmytale.</s>WhenIwokeitwasbroaddaylight. Iglancedatmy watch, and the time was nearly nine. I had particu- larlyaskedtobecalledateight,soIwasverymuch astonishedatthisforgetfulness. Isprangupandrang fortheservant. Therewasnoresponse. Irangagain andagain,withthesameresult. ThenIcametothe conclusionthatthebellwasoutoforder. Ihuddled onmyclothesandhurrieddownstairsinanexceed- ingly bad temper to order some hot water. You can imaginemysurprisewhenIfoundthattherewasno onethere. Ishoutedinthehall. Therewasnoanswer.</s>ThenIranfromroomtoroom. Allweredeserted. My hosthadshownmewhichwashisbedroomthenight before, so I knocked at the door. No reply. I turned thehandleandwalkedin. Theroomwasempty,and the bed had never been slept in. He had gone with the rest. The foreign host, the foreign footman, the foreigncook,allhadvanishedinthenight! Thatwas theendofmyvisittoWisteriaLodge.” Sherlock Holmes was rubbing his hands and chuckling as he added this bizarre incident to his collectionofstrangeepisodes.</s>“Your experience is, so far as I know, perfectly unique,”saidhe. “MayIask,sir,whatyoudidthen?” “Iwasfurious. MyfirstideawasthatIhadbeen the victim of some absurd practical joke. I packed mythings,bangedthehalldoorbehindme,andset off for Esher, with my bag in my hand. I called at Allan Brothers’, the chief land agents in the village, and found that it was from this firm that the villa had been rented. It struck me that the whole pro- ceeding could hardly be for the purpose of making a fool of me, and that the main objet must be to get outoftherent. ItislateinMarch,soquarter-dayisat hand. Butthistheorywouldnotwork. Theagentwas obliged to me for my warning, but told me that the renthadbeenpaidinadvance. ThenImademyway totownandcalledattheSpanishembassy. Theman wasunknownthere. AfterthisIwenttoseeMelville, at whose house I had first met Garcia, but I found thathereallyknewratherlessabouthimthanIdid.</s>FinallywhenIgotyourreplytomywireIcameout toyou,sinceIgatherthatyouareapersonwhogives advice in difficult cases. But now, Mr. Inspector, I understand, from what you said when you entered the room, that you can carry the story on, and that some tragedy had occurred. I can assure you that everywordIhavesaidisthetruth,andthat,outside of what I have told you, I know absolutely nothing aboutthefateofthisman. Myonlydesireistohelp thelawineverypossibleway.” “I am sure of it, Mr. Scott Eccles—I am sure of it,”saidInspectorGregsoninaveryamiabletone. “I amboundtosaythateverythingwhichyouhavesaid agreesverycloselywiththefactsastheyhavecome toournotice. Forexample,therewasthatnotewhich arrived during dinner. Did you chance to observe whatbecameofit?” “Yes, I did. Garcia rolled it up and threw it into thefire.” “Whatdoyousaytothat,Mr.Baynes?” Thecountrydetectivewasastout,puffy,redman, whosefacewasonlyredeemedfromgrossnessbytwo extraordinarilybrighteyes,almosthiddenbehindthe heavycreasesofcheekandbrow. Withaslowsmile hedrewafoldedanddiscolouredscrapofpaperfrom hispocket.“It was a dog-grate, Mr. Holmes, and he over- pitchedit. Ipickedthisoutunburnedfromtheback ofit.” Holmessmiledhisappreciation.</s>“Youmusthaveexaminedthehouseverycarefully tofindasinglepelletofpaper.” “I did, Mr. Holmes. It’s my way. Shall I read it, Mr.Gregson?” TheLondonernodded.</s>“Thenoteiswrittenuponordinarycream-laidpa- per without watermark. It is a quarter-sheet. The paperiscutoffintwosnipswithashort-bladedscis- sors. It has been folded over three times and sealed withpurplewax,putonhurriedlyandpresseddown withsomeflatovalobject. ItisaddressedtoMr.Gar- cia,WisteriaLodge. Itsays: “Ourowncolours,greenandwhite. Green open,whiteshut. Mainstair,firstcorridor, seventhright,greenbaize. Godspeed.</s>—D.</s>“It is a woman’s writing, done with a sharp- pointedpen,buttheaddressiseitherdonewithan- otherpenorbysomeoneelse. Itisthickerandbolder, asyousee.” “Averyremarkablenote,”saidHolmes,glancing it over. “I must compliment you, Mr. Baynes, upon yourattentiontodetailinyourexaminationofit. A fewtriflingpointsmightperhapsbeadded. Theoval sealisundoubtedlyaplainsleeve-link—whatelseis ofsuchashape? Thescissorswerebentnailscissors.</s>Shortasthetwosnipsare,youcandistinctlyseethe sameslightcurveineach.” Thecountrydetectivechuckled.</s>“I thought I had squeezed all the juice out of it, butIseetherewasalittleover,”hesaid. “I’mbound to say that I make nothing of the note except that therewassomethingonhand,andthatawoman,as usual,wasatthebottomofit.” Mr. Scott Eccles had fidgeted in his seat during thisconversation.</s>“I am glad you found the note, since it corrobo- ratesmystory,”saidhe. “ButIbegtopointoutthatI havenotyetheardwhathashappenedtoMr.Garcia, norwhathasbecomeofhishousehold.” “As to Garcia,” said Gregson, “that is easily an- swered. He was found dead this morning upon OxshottCommon,nearlyamilefromhishome. His headhadbeensmashedtopulpbyheavyblowsofa sandbagorsomesuchinstrument,whichhadcrushed ratherthanwounded. Itisalonelycorner,andthere isnohousewithinaquarterofamileofthespot. He hadapparentlybeenstruckdownfirstfrombehind, buthisassailanthadgoneonbeatinghimlongafter hewasdead. Itwasamostfuriousassault. Thereare nofootstepsnoranycluetothecriminals.” “Robbed?” “No,therewasnoattemptatrobbery.” “Thisisverypainful—verypainfulandterrible,” said Mr. Scott Eccles in a querulous voice, “but it is reallyuncommonlyhardonme. Ihadnothingtodo with my host going off upon a nocturnal excursion and meeting so sad an end. How do I come to be mixedupwiththecase?” “Very simply, sir,” Inspector Baynes answered.</s>“The only document found in the pocket of the de- ceasedwasaletterfromyousayingthatyouwould be with him on the night of his death. It was the envelopeofthisletterwhichgaveusthedeadman’s name and address. It was after nine this morning when we reached his house and found neither you nor anyone else inside it. I wired to Mr. Gregson to runyoudowninLondonwhileIexaminedWisteria Lodge. Then I came into town, joined Mr. Gregson, andhereweare.” “Ithinknow,”saidGregson,rising,“wehadbest putthismatterintoanofficialshape. Youwillcome roundwithustothestation,Mr.ScottEccles,andlet ushaveyourstatementinwriting.” “Certainly, I willcome atonce. But Iretain your services,Mr.Holmes. Idesireyoutosparenoexpense andnopainstogetatthetruth.” Myfriendturnedtothecountryinspector.</s>“I suppose that you have no objection to my col- laboratingwithyou,Mr.Baynes?” “Highlyhonoured,sir,Iamsure.” “Youappeartohavebeenverypromptandbusi- nesslikeinallthatyouhavedone. Wasthereanyclue, mayIask,astotheexacthourthatthemanmethis death?” “Hehadbeentheresinceoneo’clock. Therewas rainaboutthattime,andhisdeathhadcertainlybeen beforetherain.” “But that is perfectly impossible, Mr. Baynes,” criedourclient. “Hisvoiceisunmistakable. Icould swear to it that it was he who addressed me in my bedroomatthatveryhour.” “Remarkable,butbynomeansimpossible,”said Holmes,smiling.</s>“Youhaveaclue?”askedGregson.“On the face of it the case is not a very complex one,thoughitcertainlypresentssomenovelandin- teresting features. A further knowledge of facts is necessarybeforeIwouldventuretogiveafinaland definite opinion. By the way, Mr. Baynes, did you find anything remarkable besides this note in your examinationofthehouse?” The detective looked at my friend in a singular way.</s>“There were,” said he, “one or two very remark- able things. Perhaps when I have finished at the police-station you would care to come out and give meyouropinionofthem.” “In am entirely at your service,” said Sherlock Holmes,ringingthebell. “Youwillshowthesegentle- menout,Mrs.Hudson,andkindlysendtheboywith thistelegram. Heistopayafive-shillingreply.” We sat for some time in silence after our visi- torshadleft. Holmessmokedhard,withhisbrowns drawndownoverhiskeeneyes,andhisheadthrust forwardintheeagerwaycharacteristicoftheman.</s>“Well,Watson,”heasked,turningsuddenlyupon me,“whatdoyoumakeofit?” “IcanmakenothingofthismystificationofScott Eccles.” “Butthecrime?” “Well,takenwiththedisappearanceoftheman’s companions,Ishouldsaythattheywereinsomeway concernedinthemurderandhadfledfromjustice.” “That is certainly a possible point of view. On thefaceofityoumustadmit,however,thatitisvery strange that his two servants should have been in a conspiracyagainsthimandshouldhaveattackedhim ontheonenightwhenhehadaguest. Theyhadhim aloneattheirmercyeveryothernightintheweek.” “Thenwhydidtheyfly?” “Quite so. Why did they fly? There is a big fact.</s>Anotherbigfactistheremarkableexperienceofour client,ScottEccles. Now,mydearWatson,isitbeyond thelimitsofhumaningenuitytofurnishanexplana- tionwhichwouldcoverbothofthesebigfacts? Ifit wereonewhichwouldalsoadmitofthemysterious note with its very curious phraseology, why, then it wouldbeworthacceptingasatemporaryhypothesis.</s>Ifthefreshfactswhichcometoourknowledgeallfit themselvesintothescheme,thenourhypothesismay graduallybecomeasolution.” “Butwhatisourhypothesis?” Holmesleanedbackinhischairwithhalf-closed eyes.</s>“Youmustadmit,mydearWatson,thattheidea ofajokeisimpossible. Thereweregraveeventsafoot, asthesequelshowed,andthecoaxingofScottEccles toWisteriaLodgehadsomeconnectionwiththem.” “Butwhatpossibleconnection?” “Letustakeitlinkbylink. Thereis,onthefaceof it, something unnatural about this strange and sud- denfriendshipbetweentheyoungSpaniardandScott Eccles. It was the former who forced the pace. He calleduponEcclesattheotherendofLondononthe verydayafterhefirstmethim,andhekeptinclose touchwithhimuntilhegothimdowntoEsher. Now, what did he want with Eccles? What could Eccles supply? I see no charm in the man. He is not par- ticularyintelligent—notamanlikelytobecongenial to a quick-witted Latin. Why, then, was he picked out from all the other people whom Garcia met as particularly suited to his purpose? Has he any one outstandingquality? Isaythathehas. Heisthevery type of conventional British respectability, and the verymanasawitnesstoimpressanotherBriton. You sawyourselfhowneitheroftheinspectorsdreamed ofquestioninghisstatement,extraordinaryasitwas.” “Butwhatwashetowitness?” “Nothing, as things turned out, but everything had they gone another way. That is how I read the matter.” “Isee,hemighthaveprovedanalibi.” “Exactly,mydearWatson;hemighthaveproved an alibi. We will suppose, for argument’s sake, that thehouseholdofWisteriaLodgeareconfederatesin somedesign. Theattempt,whateveritmaybe,isto come off, we will say, before one o’clock. By some jugglingoftheclocksitisquitepossiblethattheymay havegotScottEcclestobedearlierthanhethought, butinanycaseitislikelythatwhenGarciawentout ofhiswaytotellhimthatitwasoneitwasreallynot more than twelve. If Garcia could do whatever he hadtodoandbebackbythehourmentionedhehad evidently a powerful reply to any accusation. Here wasthisirreproachableEnglishmanreadytoswearin anycourtoflawthattheaccusedwasinthehouseall thetime. Itwasaninsuranceagainsttheworst.” “Yes,yes,Iseethat. Buthowaboutthedisappear- anceoftheothers?” “I have not all my facts yet, but I do not think there are any insuperable difficulties. Still, it is an errortoargueinfrontofyourdata. Youfindyourself insensiblytwistingthemroundtofityourtheories.” “Andthemessage?”“How did it run? ‘Our own colours, green and white.’ Soundslikeracing. ‘Greenopen,whiteshut.’ Thatisclearlyasignal. ‘Mainstair,firstcorridor,sev- enth right, green baize.’ This is an assignation. We mayfindajealoushusbandatthebottomofitall. It was clearly a dangerous quest. She would not have said‘Godspeed’haditnotbeenso. ‘D’—thatshould beaguide.” “ThemanwasaSpaniard. Isuggestthat‘D’stands forDolores,acommonfemalenameinSpain.” “Good, Watson, very good—but quite inadmiss- able. ASpaniardwouldwritetoaSpaniardinSpan- ish. ThewriterofthisnoteiscertainlyEnglish. Well, we can only possess our soul in patience until this excellentinspectorcomebackforus. Meanwhilewe can thank our lucky fate which has rescued us for a few short hours from the insufferable fatigues of idleness.” AnanswerhadarrivedtoHolmes’stelegrambe- foreourSurreyofficerhadreturned. Holmesreadit and was about to place it in his notebook when he caughtaglimpseofmyexpectantface. Hetossedit acrosswithalaugh.</s>“Wearemovinginexaltedcircles,”saidhe.</s>Thetelegramwasalistofnamesandaddresses: Lord Harringby, The Dingle; Sir George Ffolliott, Oxshott Towers; Mr. Hynes Hynes,J.P.,PurdleyPlace;Mr.JamesBaker Williams,FortonOldHall;Mr.Henderson, High Gable; Rev. Joshua Stone, Nether Walsling.</s>CHAP he iger o T T Acoldandmelancholywalkofacoupleofmiles broughtustoahighwoodengate,whichopenedinto agloomyavenueofchestnuts. Thecurvedandshad- owed drive led us to a low, dark house, pitch-black againstaslate-colouredsky. Fromthefrontwindow upontheleftofthedoortherepeepedaglimmerofa feeblelight.</s>“Thisisaveryobviouswayoflimitingourfieldof operations,”saidHolmes. “NodoubtBaynes,withhis methodicalmind,hasalreadyadoptedsomesimilar plan.” “Idon’tquiteunderstand.” “Well,mydearfellow,wehavealreadyarrivedat theconclusionthatthemassagereceivedbyGarciaat dinnerwasanappointmentoranassignation. Now, iftheobviousreadingofitiscorrect,andinorderto keepthetrystonehastoascendamainstairandseek theseventhdoorinacorridor,itisperfectlyclearthat thehouseisaverylargeone. Itisequallycertainthat this house cannot be more than a mile or two from Oxshott, since Garcia was walking in that direction and hoped, according to my reading of the facts, to bebackinWisteriaLodgeintimetoavailhimselfof analibi,whichwouldonlybevaliduptooneo’clock.</s>AsthenumberoflargehousesclosetoOxshottmust belimited,Iadoptedtheobviousmethodofsending totheagentsmentionedbyScottEcclesandobtaining alistofthem. Heretheyareinthistelegram,andthe otherendofourtangledskeinmustlieamongthem.” Itwasnearlysixo’clockbeforewefoundourselves in the pretty Surrey village of Esher, with Inspector Baynesasourcompanion.</s>HolmesandIhadtakenthingsforthenight,and foundcomfortablequartersattheBull. Finallyweset out in the company of the detective on our visit to Wisteria Lodge. It was a cold, dark March evening, withasharpwindandafinerainbeatinguponour faces, a fit setting for the wild common over which our road passed and the tragic goal to which it led us.</s>TER II.</s>f an edro S P “There’saconstableinpossession,”saidBaynes.</s>“I’ll knock at the window.” He stepped across the grass plot and tapped with his hand on the pane.</s>ThroughthefoggedglassIdimlysawamanspring upfromachairbesidethefire,andheardasharpcry fromwithintheroom. Aninstantlaterawhite-faced, hard-breathingpolicemanhadopenedthedoor,thecandlewaveringinhistremblinghand.</s>“What’s the matter, Walters?” asked Baynes sharply.</s>Themanmoppedhisforeheadwithhishandker- chiefandagavealongsighofrelief.</s>“Iamgladyouhavecome,sir. Ithasbeenalong evening,andIdon’tthinkmynerveisasgoodasit was.” “Yournerve,Walters? Ishouldnothavethought youhadanerveinyourbody.” “Well, sir, it’s this lonely, silent house and the queerthinginthekitchen. Thenwhenyoutappedat thewindowIthoughtithadcomeagain.” “Thatwhathadcomeagain?” “The devil, sir, for all I know. It was at the win- dow.” “Whatwasatthewindow,andwhen?” “It was just about two hours ago. The light was justfading. Iwassittingreadinginthechair. Idon’t know what made me look up, but there was a face looking in at me through the lower pane. Lord, sir, whatafaceitwas! I’llseeitinmydreams.” “Tut, tut, Walters. This is not talk for a police- constable.” “I know, sir, I know; but it shook me, sir, and there’snousetodenyit. Itwasn’tblack,sir,norwas it white, nor any colour that I know but a kind of queershadelikeclaywithasplashofmilkinit. Then therewasthesizeofit—itwastwiceyours,sir. And thelookofit—thegreatstaringgoggleeyes,andthe line of white teeth like a hungry beast. I tell you, sir,Icouldn’tmoveafinger,norgetmybreath,tillit whiskedawayandwasgone. OutIranandthrough theshrubbery,butthankGodtherewasnoonethere.” “IfIdidn’tknowyouwereagoodman,Walters, I should put a black mark against you for this. If it were the devil himself a constable on duty should neverthankGodthathecouldnotlayhishandsupon him. Isupposethewholethingisnotavisionanda touchofnerves?” “That,atleast,isveryeasilysettled,”saidHolmes, lightinghislittlepocketlantern. “Yes,”hereported, afterashortexaminationofthegrassbed,“anumber twelve shoe, I should say. If he was all on the same scaleashisfoothemustcertainlyhavebeenagiant.” “Whatbecameofhim?” “Heseemstohavebrokenthroughtheshrubbery andmadefortheroad.” “Well,” said the inspector with a grave and thoughtful face, “whoever he may have been, and whatever he may have wanted, he’s gone for the present, and we have more immediate things to at- tend to. Now, Mr. Holmes, with your permission, I willshowyouroundthehouse.” The various bedrooms and sitting-rooms had yielded nothing to a careful search. Apparently the tenantshadbroughtlittleornothingwiththem,and allthefurnituredowntothesmallestdetailshadbeen taken over with the house. A good deal of clothing withthestampofMarxandCo.,HighHolborn,had been left behind. Telegraphic inquiries had been al- readymadewhichshowedthatMarxknewnothing ofhiscustomersavethathewasagoodpayer. Odds and ends, some pipes, a few novels, two of them in Spanish, and old-fashioned pinfire revolver, and a guitarwereamongthepersonalproperty.</s>“Nothinginallthis,”saidBaynes,stalking,candle inhand,fromroomtoroom. “Butnow,Mr.Holmes, Iinviteyourattentiontothekitchen.” Itwasagloomy,high-ceilingedroomattheback ofthehouse,withastrawlitterinonecorner,which served apparently as a bed for the cook. The table waspiledwithhalf-eatendishesanddirtyplates,the debrisoflastnight’sdinner.</s>“Lookatthis,”saidBaynes. “Whatdoyoumake ofit?” Hehelduphiscandlebeforeanextraordinaryob- ject which stood at the back of the dresser. It was sowrinkledandshrunkenandwitheredthatitwas difficult to say what it might have been. One could butsaythatitwasblackandleatheryandthatitbore some resemblance to a dwarfish, human figure. At first, as I examined it, I thought that it was a mum- mifiednegrobaby,andthenitseemedaverytwisted andancientmonkey. FinallyIwasleftindoubtasto whetheritwasanimalorhuman. Adoublebandof whiteshellswerestrungroundthecentreofit.</s>“Veryinteresting—veryinteresting,indeed!”said Holmes, peering at this sinister relic. “Anything more?” InsilenceBaynesledthewaytothesinkandheld forwardhiscandle. Thelimbsandbodyofsomelarge, whitebird,tornsavagelytopieceswiththefeathers still on, were littered all over it. Holmes pointed to thewattlesontheseveredhead.</s>“A white cock,” said he. “Most interesting! It is reallyaverycuriouscase.” ButMr.Bayneshadkepthismostsinisterexhibit tothelast. Fromunderthesinkhedrewazincpail whichcontainedaquantityofblood. Thenfromthetable he took a platter heaped with small pieces of charredbone.</s>“Something has been killed and something has been burned. We raked all these out of the fire. We had a doctor in this morning. He says that they are nothuman.” Holmessmiledandrubbedhishands.</s>“Imustcongratulateyou,Inspector,onhandling sodistinctiveandinstructiveacase. Yourpowers,if Imaysaysowithoutoffence,seemsuperiortoyour opportunities.” InspectorBaynes’ssmalleyestwinkledwithplea- sure.</s>“You’re right, Mr. Holmes. We stagnate in the provinces. A case of this sort gives a man a chance, andIhopethatIshalltakeit. Whatdoyoumakeof thesebones?” “Alamb,Ishouldsay,orakid.” “Andthewhitecock?” “Curious,Mr.Baynes,verycurious. Ishouldsay almostunique.” “Yes,sir,theremusthavebeensomeverystrange people with some very strange ways in this house.</s>Oneofthemisdead. Didhiscompanionsfollowhim andkillhim? Iftheydidweshouldhavethem,forev- eryportiswatched. Butmyownviewsaredifferent.</s>Yes,sir,myownviewsareverydifferent.” “Youhaveatheorythen?” “And I’ll work it myself, Mr. Holmes. It’s only due to my own credit to do so. Your name is made, butIhavestilltomakemine. Ishouldbegladtobe able to say afterwards that I had solved it without yourhelp.” Holmeslaughedgood-humoredly.</s>“Well, well, Inspector,” said he. “Do you follow your path and I will follow mine. My results are al- waysverymuchatyourserviceifyoucaretoapplyto meforthem. IthinkthatIhaveseenallthatIwishin thishouse,andthatmytimemaybemoreprofitably employedelsewhere. Aurevoirandgoodluck!” Icouldtellbynumeroussubtlesigns,whichmight havebeenlostuponanyonebutmyself,thatHolmes wasonahotscent. Asimpassiveasevertothecasual observer, there were none the less a subdued eager- nessandsuggestionoftensioninhisbrightenedeyes andbriskermannerwhichassuredmethatthegame wasafoot. Afterhishabithesaidnothing,andafter mineIaskednoquestions. Sufficientformetoshare the sport and lend my humble help to the capture without distracting that intent brain with needless interruption. All would come round to me in due time.</s>Iwaited,therefore—buttomyever-deepeningdis- appointment I waited in vain. Day succeeded day, andmyfriendtooknostepforward. Onemorninghe spentintown,andIlearnedfromacasualreference thathehadvisitedtheBritishMuseum. Saveforthis one excursion, he spent his days in long and often solitarywalks,orinchattingwithanumberofvillage gossipswhoseacquaintancehehadcultivated.</s>“I’msure,Watson,aweekinthecountrywillbe invaluabletoyou,”heremarked. “Itisverypleasant toseethefirstgreenshootsuponthehedgesandthe catkinsonthehazelsonceagain. Withaspud, atin box, and an elementary book on botany, there are instructivedaystobespent.”Heprowledaboutwith this equipment himself, but it was a poor show of plantswhichhewouldbringbackofanevening.</s>Occasionally in our rambles we came across In- spector Baynes. His fat, red face wreathed itself in smilesandhissmalleyesglitteredashegreetedmy companion. He said little about the case, but from thatlittlewegatheredthathealsowasnotdissatisfied atthecourseofevents. Imustadmit,however,thatI wassomewhatsurprisedwhen,somefivedaysafter thecrime,Iopenedmymorningpapertofindinlarge letters: TheOxshottMystery asolution ArrestofSupposedAssassin Holmes sprang in his chair as if he had been stung whenIreadtheheadlines.</s>“ByJove!”hecried. “Youdon’tmeanthatBaynes hasgothim?” “Apparently,”saidIasIreadthefollowingreport: “Great excitement was caused in Esher and theneighbouringdistrictwhenitwaslearned latelastnightthatanarresthadbeeneffected in connection with the Oxshott murder. It will be remembered that Mr. Garcia, of Wis- teriaLodge,wasfounddeadonOxshottCom- mon, his body showing signs of extreme vio- lence, and that on the same night his servant andhiscookfled,whichappearedtoshowtheir participation in the crime. It was suggested, butneverproved,thatthedeceasedgentleman mayhavehadvaluablesinthehouse,andthat their abstraction was the motive of the crime.</s>Every effort was made by Inspector Baynes,whohasthecaseinhand,toascertainthehid- ing place of the fugitives, and he had good reason to believe that they had not gone far but were lurking in some retreat which had been already prepared. It was certain from the first, however, that they would eventu- allybedetected,asthecook,fromtheevidence of one or two tradespeople who have caught a glimpse of him through the window, was a man of most remarkable appearance—being a hugeandhideousmulatto,withyellowishfea- turesofapronouncednegroidtype. Thisman has been seen since the crime, for he was de- tected and pursued by Constable Walters on the same evening, when he had the audacity to revisit Wisteria Lodge. Inspector Baynes, considering that such a visit must have some purpose in view and was likely, therefore, to be repeated, abandoned the house but left an ambuscadeintheshrubbery. Themanwalked into the trap and was captured last night af- ter a struggle in which Constable Downing was badly bitten by the savage. We under- stand that when the prison is brought before the magistrates a remand will be applied for bythepolice,andthatgreatdevelopmentsare hopedfromhiscapture.” “Really we must see Baynes at once,” cried Holmes, picking up his hat. “We will just catch him before he starts.” We hurried down the village street and found,aswehadexpected,thattheinspectorwasjust leavinghislodgings.</s>“You’ve seen the paper, Mr. Holmes?” he asked, holdingoneouttous.</s>“Yes, Baynes, I’ve seen it. Pray don’t think it a libertyifIgiveyouawordoffriendlywarning.” “Ofwarning,Mr.Holmes?” “Ihavelookedintothiscasewithsomecare,and Iamnotconvincedthatyouareontherightlines. I don’twantyoutocommityourselftoofarunlessyou aresure.” “You’reverykind,Mr.Holmes.” “IassureyouIspeakforyourgood.” Itseemedtomethatsomethinglikeawinkquiv- eredforaninstantoveroneofMr.Baynes’stinyeyes.</s>“Weagreedtoworkonourownlines,Mr.Holmes.</s>That’swhatIamdoing.” “Oh,verygood,”saidHolmes. “Don’tblameme.” “No,sir;Ibelieveyoumeanwellbyme. Butweall haveourownsystems,Mr.Holmes. Youhaveyours, andmaybeIhavemine.” “Letussaynomoreaboutit.” “You’re welcome always to my news. This fel- lowisaperfectsavage,asstrongasacart-horseand asfierceasthedevil. HechewedDowning’sthumb nearly off before they could master him. He hardly speaksawordofEnglish,andwecangetnothingout ofhimbutgrunts.” “And you think you have evidence that he mur- deredhislatemaster?” “Ididn’tsayso, Mr.Holmes; Ididn’tsayso. We allhaveourlittleways. Youtryyours andIwilltry mine. That’stheagreement.” Holmes shrugged his shoulders as we walked awaytogether. “Ican’tmakethemanout. Heseems toberidingforafall. Well,ashesays,wemusteach tryourownwayandseewhatcomesofit. Butthere’s something in Inspector Baynes which I can’t quite understand.” “Justsitdowninthatchair,Watson,”saidSherlock Holmes when we had returned to our apartment at the Bull. “I want to put you in touch with the situa- tion,asImayneedyourhelpto-night. Letmeshow you the evolution of this case so far as I have been abletofollowit. Simpleasithasbeeninitsleading features,ithasnonethelesspresentedsurprisingdif- ficultiesinthewayofanarrest. Therearegapsinthat directionwhichwehavestilltofill.</s>“We will go back to the note which was handed intoGarciaupontheeveningofhisdeath. Wemay putasidethisideaofBaynes’sthatGarcia’sservants were concerned in the matter. The proof of this lies in the fact that it was he who had arranged for the presenceofScottEccles,whichcouldonlyhavebeen doneforthepurposeofanalibi. ItwasGarcia,then, who had an enterprise, and apparently a criminal enterprise,inhandthatnightinthecourseofwhich hemethisdeath. Isay‘criminal’becauseonlyaman withacriminalenterprisedesirestoestablishanalibi.</s>Who,then,ismostlikelytohavetakenhislife? Surely thepersonagainstwhomthecriminalenterprisewas directed. So far it seems to me that we are on safe ground.</s>“Wecannowseeareasonforthedisappearance ofGarcia’shousehold. Theywereallconfederatesin thesameunknowncrime. IfitcameoffwhenGarcia returned,anypossiblesuspicionwouldbewardedoff bytheEnglishman’sevidence,andallwouldbewell.</s>But the attempt was a dangerous one, and if Garciadidnotreturnbyacertainhouritwasprobablethat hisownlifehadbeensacrificed. Ithadbeenarranged, therefore, that in such a case his two subordinates weretomakeforsomeprearrangedspotwherethey could escape investigation and be in a position af- terwards to renew their attempt. That would fully explainthefacts,woulditnot?” The whole inexplicable tangle seemed to straighten out before me. I wondered, as I always did,howithadnotbeenobvioustomebefore.</s>“Butwhyshouldoneservantreturn?” “We can imagine that in the confusion of flight something precious, something which he could not beartopartwith,hadbeenleftbehind. Thatwould explainhispersistence,woulditnot?” “Well,whatisthenextstep?” “The next step is the note received by Garcia at thedinner. Itindicatesaconfederateattheotherend.</s>Now,wherewastheotherend? Ihavealreadyshown you that it could only lie in some large house, and that the number of large houses is limited. My first daysinthisvillageweredevotedtoaseriesofwalks in which inthe intervals of my botanicalresearches I made a reconnaissance of all the large houses and anexaminationofthefamilyhistoryoftheoccupants.</s>Onehouse,andonlyone,rivetedmyattention. Itis thefamousoldJacobeangrangeofHighGable,one mile on the farther side of Oxshott, and less than half a mile from the scene of the tragedy. The other mansionsbelongedtoprosaicandrespectablepeople wholivefaralooffromromance. ButMr.Henderson, ofHighGable,wasbyallaccountsacuriousmanto whomcuriousadventuresmightbefall. Iconcentrated myattention,therefore,uponhimandhishousehold.</s>“Asingularsetofpeople,Watson—themanhim- self the most singular of them all. I managed to see him on a plausible pretext, but I seemed to read in hisdark,deepset,broodingeyesthathewasperfectly awareofmytruebusiness. Heisamanoffifty,strong, active,withiron-grayhair,greatbunchedblackeye- brows,thestepofadeerandtheairofanemperor—a fierce, masterful man, with a red-hot spirit behind his parchment face. He is either a foreigner or has livedlonginthetropics,forheisyellowandsapless, buttoughaswhipcord. Hisfriendandsecretary,Mr.</s>Lucas, is undoubtedly a foreigner, chocolate brown, wily,suave,andcatlike,withapoisonousgentleness of speech. You see, Watson, we have come already upon two sets of foreigners—one at Wisteria Lodge andoneatHighGable—soourgapsarebeginningto close.</s>“These two men, close and confidential friends, arethecentreofthehousehold;butthereisoneother personwhoforourimmediatepurposemaybeeven moreimportant. Hendersonhastwochildren—girls ofelevenandthirteen. TheirgovernessisaMissBur- net,anEnglishwomanoffortyorthereabouts. There isalsooneconfidentialmanservant. Thislittlegroup formstherealfamily,fortheirtravelabouttogether, and Henderson is a great traveller, always on the move. It is only within the last weeks that he has returned, after a year’s absence, to High Gable. I mayaddthatheisenormouslyrich,andwhateverhis whims may be he can very easily satisfy them. For therest,hishouseisfullofbutlers,footmen,maidser- vants,andtheusualoverfed,underworkedstaffofa largeEnglishcountryhouse.</s>“So much I learned partly from village gossip and partly from my own observation. There are no better instruments than discharged servants with a grievance,andIwasluckyenoughtofindone. Icall it luck, but it would not have come my way had I not been looking out for it. As Baynes remarks, we all have our systems. It was my system which en- abledmetofindJohnWarner,lategardenerofHigh Gable, sacked in a moment of temper by his impe- rious employer. He in turn had friends among the indoor servants who unite in their fear and dislike oftheirmaster. SoIhadmykeytothesecretsofthe establishment.</s>“Curious people, Watson! I don’t pretend to un- derstand it all yet, but very curious people anyway.</s>It’sadouble-wingedhouse,andtheservantsliveon oneside,thefamilyontheother. There’snolinkbe- tweenthetwosaveforHenderson’sownservant,who servesthefamily’smeals. Everythingiscarriedtoa certain door, which forms the one connection. Gov- ernessandchildrenhardlygooutatall,exceptinto the garden. Henderson never by any chance walks alone. His dark secretary is like his shadow. The gossipamongtheservantsisthattheirmasterister- riblyafraidofsomething. ‘Soldhissoultothedevil in exchange for money,’ says Warner, ‘and expects his creditor to come up and claim his own.’ Where theycamefrom,orwhotheyare,nobodyhasanidea.</s>Theyareveryviolent. TwiceHendersonhaslashedat folkwithhisdog-whip,andonlyhislongpurseand heavycompensationhavekepthimoutofthecourts.</s>“Well,now,Watson,letusjudgethesituationby this new information. We may take it that the letter came out of this strange household and was an in- vitation to Garcia to carry out some attempt which had already been planned. Who wrote the note? Itwassomeonewithinthecitadel,anditwasawoman.</s>WhothenbutMissBurnet,thegoverness? Allourrea- soningseemstopointthatway. Atanyrate,wemay take it as a hypothesis and see what consequences it would entail. I may add that Miss Burnet’s age and charactermake itcertainthat myfirst idea that there might be a love interest in our story is out of thequestion.</s>“If she wrote the note she was presumably the friendandconfederateofGarcia. What,then,might shebeexpectedtodoifsheheardofhisdeath? Ifhe metitinsomenefariousenterpriseherlipsmightbe sealed. Still, in her heart, she must retain bitterness and hatred against those who had killed him and would presumably help so far as she could to have revengeuponthem. Couldweseeher,thenandtryto useher? Thatwasmyfirstthought. Butnowwecome to a sinister fact. Miss Burnet has not been seen by anyhumaneyesincethenightofthemurder. From that evening she has utterly vanished. Is she alive? Hassheperhapsmetherendonthesamenightasthe friendwhomshehadsummoned? Orisshemerely aprisoner? Thereisthepointwhichwestillhaveto decide.</s>“Youwillappreciatethedifficultyofthesituation, Watson. Thereisnothinguponwhichwecanapply forawarrant. Ourwholeschememightseemfantastic if laid before a magistrate. The woman’s disappear- ance counts for nothing, since in that extraordinary householdanymemberofitmightbeinvisiblefora week. Andyetshemayatthepresentmomentbein dangerofherlife. AllIcandoistowatchthehouse and leave my agent, Warner, on guard at the gates.</s>Wecan’tletsuchasituationcontinue. Ifthelawcan donothingwemusttaketheriskourselves.” “Whatdoyousuggest?” “I know which is her room. It is accessible from the top of an outhouse. My suggestion is that you andIgoto-nightandseeifwecanstrikeatthevery heartofthemystery.” Itwasnot,Imustconfess,averyalluringprospect.</s>The old house with its atmosphere of murder, the singular and formidable inhabitants, the unknown dangers of the approach, and the fact that we were putting ourselves legally in a false position all com- binedtodampmyardour. Buttherewassomething in the ice-cold reasoning of Holmes which made it impossible to shrink from any adventure which he might recommend. One knew that thus, and only thus,couldasolutionbefound. Iclaspedhishandin silence,andthediewascast.</s>But it was not destined that our investigation shouldhavesoadventurousanending. Itwasabout five o’clock, and the shadows of the March evening werebeginningtofall,whenanexcitedrusticrushed intoourroom.</s>“They’vegone,Mr.Holmes. Theywentbythelast train. Theladybrokeaway,andI’vegotherinacab downstairs.” “Excellent, Warner!” cried Holmes, springing to hisfeet. “Watson,thegapsareclosingrapidly.” Inthecabwasawoman,half-collapsedfromner- vous exhaustion. She bore upon her aquiline and emaciatedfacethetracesofsomerecenttragedy. Her headhunglistlesslyuponherbreast,butassheraised it and turned her dull eyes upon us I saw that her pupilsweredarkdotsinthecentreofthebroadgray iris. Shewasdruggedwithopium.</s>“I watched at the gate, same as you advised, Mr.</s>Holmes,”saidouremissary,thedischargedgardener.</s>“WhenthecarriagecameoutIfollowedittothesta- tion. Shewaslikeonewalkinginhersleep,butwhen theytriedtogetherintothetrainshecametolifeand struggled. They pushed her into the carriage. She fought her way out again. I took her part, got her into a cab, and here we are. I shan’t forget the face atthecarriagewindowasIledheraway. I’dhavea shortlifeifhehadhisway—theblack-eyed,scowling, yellowdevil.” Wecarriedherupstairs,laidheronthesofa,and acoupleofcupsofthestrongestcoffeesooncleared her brain from the mists of the drug. Baynes had beensummonedbyHolmes,andthesituationrapidly explainedtohim.</s>“Why,sir,you’vegotmetheveryevidenceIwant,” saidtheinspectorwarmly,shakingmyfriendbythe hand. “Iwasonthesamescentasyoufromthefirst.” “What! YouwereafterHenderson?” “Why, Mr. Holmes, when you were crawling in theshrubberyatHighGableIwasuponeofthetrees in the plantation and saw you down below. It was justwhowouldgethisevidencefirst.” “Thenwhydidyouarrestthemulatto?” Bayneschuckled.</s>“I was sure Henderson, as he calls himself, felt thathewassuspected,andthathewouldlielowand make no move so long as he thought he was in any danger. Iarrestedthewrongmantomakehimbelieve thatoureyeswereoffhim. Iknewhewouldbelikely to clear off then and give us a chance of getting at MissBurnet.”Holmeslaidhishandupontheinspector’sshoul- der.</s>“Youwillrisehighinyourprofession. Youhave instinctandintuition,”saidhe.</s>Baynesflushedwithpleasure.</s>“I’ve had a plain-clothes man waiting at the sta- tionalltheweek. WherevertheHighGablefolkgohe willkeeptheminsight. Buthemusthavebeenhard put to it when Miss Burnet broke away. However, your man picked her up, and it all ends well. We can’tarrestwithoutherevidence,thatisclear,sothe soonerwegetastatementthebetter.” “Every minute she gets stronger,” said Holmes, glancingatthegoverness. “Buttellme,Baynes,who isthismanHenderson?” “Henderson,” the inspector answered, “is Don Murillo,oncecalledtheTigerofSanPedro.” TheTigerofSanPedro! Thewholehistoryofthe man came back to me in a flash. He had made his nameasthemostlewdandbloodthirstytyrantthat had ever governed any country with a pretence to civilization. Strong, fearless, and energetic, he had sufficientvirtuetoenablehimtoimposehisodious vicesuponacoweringpeoplefortenortwelveyears.</s>His name was a terror through all Central America.</s>At the end of that time there was a universal rising againsthim. Buthewasascunningashewascruel, and at the first whisper of coming trouble he had secretlyconveyedhistreasuresaboardashipwhich wasmannedbydevotedadherents. Itwasanempty palacewhichwasstormedbytheinsurgentsnextday.</s>The dictator, his two children, his secretary, and his wealthhadallescapedthem. Fromthatmomenthe had vanished from the world, and his identity had beenafrequentsubjectforcommentintheEuropean press.</s>“Yes, sir, Don Murillo, the Tiger of San Pedro,” saidBaynes. “Ifyoulookitupyouwillfindthatthe San Pedro colours are green and white, same as in the note, Mr. Holmes. Henderson he called himself, but I traced him back, Paris and Rome and Madrid toBarcelona,wherehisshipcameinin’86. They’ve been looking for him all the time for their revenge, but it is only now that they have begun to find him out.” “Theydiscoveredhimayearago,”saidMissBur- net,whohadsatupandwasnowintentlyfollowing the conversation. “Once already his life has been attempted, but some evil spirit shielded him. Now, again,itisthenoble,chivalrousGarciawhohasfallen, whilethemonstergoessafe. Butanotherwillcome, andyetanother,untilsomedayjusticewillbedone; thatisascertainastheriseofto-morrow’ssun.”Her thinhandsclenched,andherwornfaceblanchedwith thepassionofherhatred.</s>“Buthowcomeyouintothismatter,MissBurnet?” askedHolmes. “HowcananEnglishladyjoininsuch amurderousaffair?” “I join in it because there is no other way in the world by which justice can be gained. What does thelawofEnglandcarefortheriversofbloodshed yearsagoinSanPedro,orfortheshiploadoftreasure whichthismanhasstolen? Toyoutheyarelikecrimes committed in some other planet. But we know. We havelearnedthetruthinsorrowandinsuffering. To usthereisnofiendinhelllikeJuanMurillo,andno peaceinlifewhilehisvictimsstillcryforvengeance.” “No doubt,” said Holmes, “he was as you say. I have heard that he was atrocious. But how are you affected?” “I will tell you it all. This villain’s policy was to murder, on one pretext or another, every man who showed such promise that he might in time come to be a dangerous rival. My husband—yes, my real name is Signora Victor Durando—was the San Pe- droministerinLondon. Hemetmeandmarriedme there. Anoblermanneverliveduponearth. Unhap- pily,Murilloheardofhisexcellence,recalledhimon somepretext,andhadhimshot. Withapremonition of his fate he had refused to take me with him. His estateswereconfiscated,andIwasleftwithapittance andabrokenheart.</s>“Thencamethedownfallofthetyrant. Heescaped asyouhavejustdescribed. Butthemanywhoselives he had ruined, whose nearest and dearest had suf- feredtortureanddeathathishands,wouldnotletthe matter rest. They banded themselves into a society whichshouldneverbedissolveduntiltheworkwas done. Itwasmypartafterwehaddiscoveredinthe transformed Henderson the fallen despot, to attach myselftohishouseholdandkeeptheothersintouch withhismovements. ThisIwasabletodobysecuring thepositionofgovernessinhisfamily. Helittleknew thatthewomanwhofacedhimateverymealwasthe womanwhosehusbandhehadhurriedatanhour’s notice into eternity. I smiled on him, did my duty tohischildren,andbidedmytime. Anattemptwas madeinParisandfailed. Wezig-zaggedswiftlyhere andthereoverEuropetothrowoffthepursuersand finally returned to this house, which he had taken uponhisfirstarrivalinEngland.</s>“Butherealsotheministersofjusticewerewaiting.</s>Knowingthathewouldreturnthere,Garcia,whoisthesonoftheformerhighestdignitaryinSanPedro, waswaitingwithtwotrustycompanionsofhumble station, all three fired with the same reasons for re- venge. Hecoulddolittleduringtheday,forMurillo tookeveryprecautionandneverwentoutsavewith hissatelliteLucas,orLopezashewasknowninthe days of his greatness. At night, however, he slept alone, and the avenger might find him. On a cer- tainevening,whichhadbeenprearranged,Isentmy friendfinalinstructions,forthemanwasforeveron thealertandcontinuallychangedhisroom. Iwasto seethatthedoorswereopenandthesignalofagreen orwhitelightinawindowwhichfacedthedrivewas to give notice if all was safe or if the attempt had betterbepostponed.</s>“But everything went wrong with us. In some way I had excited the suspicion of Lopez, the secre- tary. He crept up behind me and sprang upon me just as I had finished the note. He and his master draggedmetomyroomandheldjudgmentuponme as a convicted traitress. Then and there they would have plunged their knives into me could they have seen how to escape the consequences of the deed.</s>Finally, after much debate, they concluded that my murderwastoodangerous. Buttheydeterminedto getridforeverofGarcia. Theyhadgaggedme, and Murillo twisted my arm round until I gave him the address. Iswearthathemighthavetwisteditoffhad I understood what it would mean to Garcia. Lopez addressedthenotewhichIhadwritten,sealeditwith hissleeve-link,andsentitbythehandoftheservant, Jose. How they murdered him I do not know, save thatitwasMurillo’shandwhostruckhimdown,for Lopezhadremainedtoguardme. Ibelievehemust havewaitedamongthegorsebushesthroughwhich the path winds and struck him down as he passed.</s>Atfirsttheywereofamindtolethimenterthehouse andtokillhimasadetectedburglar;buttheyargued that if they were mixed up in an inquiry their own identitywouldatoncebepubliclydisclosedandthey wouldbeopentofurtherattacks. With thedeathof Garcia, the pursuit might cease, since such a death mightfrightenothersfromthetask.</s>“All would now have been well for them had it not been for my knowledge of what they had done.</s>I have no doubt that there were times when my life hunginthebalance. Iwasconfinedtomyroom,ter- rorizedbythemosthorriblethreats,cruellyill-used tobreakmyspirit—seethisstabonmyshoulderand thebruisesfromendtoendofmyarms—andagag wasthrustintomymouthontheoneoccasionwhenI triedtocallfromthewindow. Forfivedaysthiscruel imprisonmentcontinued,withhardlyenoughfoodto holdbodyandsoultogether. Thisafternoonagood lunchwasbroughtme,butthemomentafterItookit IknewthatIhadbeendrugged. InasortofdreamI rememberbeinghalf-led,half-carriedtothecarriage; in the same state I was conveyed to the train. Only then, when the wheels were almost moving, did I suddenlyrealizethatmylibertylayinmyownhands.</s>I sprangout, theytried todrag meback, and had it notbeenforthehelpofthisgoodman,wholedmeto thecab,Ishouldneverhadbrokenaway. Now,thank God,Iambeyondtheirpowerforever.” We had all listened intently to this remarkable statement. ItwasHolmeswhobrokethesilence.</s>“Ourdifficultiesarenotover,”heremarked,shak- ing his head. “Our police work ends, but our legal workbegins.” “Exactly,”saidI.“Aplausiblelawyercouldmake itoutasanactofself-defence. Theremaybeahun- dredcrimesinthebackground,butitisonlyonthis onethattheycanbetried.” “Come,come,”saidBaynescheerily,“Ithinkbet- terofthelawthanthat. Self-defenceisonething. To entice a man in cold blood with the object of mur- deringhimisanother,whateverdangeryoumayfear from him. No, no, weshall all be justified when we see the tenants of High Gable at the next Guildford Assizes.” Itisamatterofhistory,however,thatalittletime wasstilltoelapsebeforetheTigerofSanPedroshould meetwithhisdeserts. Wilyandbold,heandhiscom- panionthrewtheirpursuerofftheirtrackbyentering alodging-houseinEdmontonStreetandleavingby theback-gateintoCurzonSquare. Fromthatdaythey wereseennomoreinEngland. Somesixmonthsaf- terwardstheMarquessofMontalvaandSignorRulli, his secretary, were both murdered in their rooms at theHotelEscurialatMadrid. Thecrimewasascribed toNihilism,andthemurdererswereneverarrested.</s>Inspector Baynes visited us at Baker Street with a printed description of the dark face of the secretary, andofthemasterfulfeatures,themagneticblackeyes, and the tufted brows of his master. We could not doubtthatjustice,ifbelated,hadcomeatlast.</s>“A chaotic case, my dear Watson,” said Holmes overaneveningpipe. “Itwillnotbepossibleforyou topresentinthatcompactformwhichisdeartoyour heart. Itcoverstwocontinents,concernstwogroups ofmysteriouspersons,andisfurthercomplicatedby the highly respectable presence of our friend, Scott Eccles,whoseinclusionshowsmethatthedeceasedGarcia had a scheming mind and a well-developed instinctofself-preservation. Itisremarkableonlyfor thefactthatamidaperfectjungleofpossibilitieswe, withourworthycollaborator,theinspector,havekept ourcloseholdontheessentialsandsobeenguided along the crooked and winding path. Is there any pointwhichisnotquitecleartoyou?” “Theobjectofthemulattocook’sreturn?” “I think that the strange creature in the kitchen mayaccountforit. Themanwasaprimitivesavage from the backwoods of San Pedro, and this was his fetish. Whenhiscompanionandhehadfledtosome prearrangedretreat—alreadyoccupied,nodoubtby a confederate—the companion had persuaded him toleavesocompromisinganarticleoffurniture. But the mulatto’s heart was with it, and he was driven backtoitnextday,when,onreconnoiteringthrough the window, he found policeman Walters in posses- sion. Hewaitedthreedayslonger,andthenhispiety or his superstition drove him to try once more. In- spectorBaynes,who,withhisusualastuteness,had minimizedtheincidentbeforeme,hadreallyrecog- nized its importance and had left a trap into which thecreaturewalked. Anyotherpoint,Watson?” “The torn bird, the pail of blood, the charred bones,allthemysteryofthatweirdkitchen?” Holmes smiled as he turned up an entry in his note-book.</s>“IspentamorningintheBritishMuseumreading uponthatandotherpoints. Hereisaquotationfrom Eckermann’sVoodooismandtheNegroidReligions: “‘Thetruevoodoo-worshipperattemptsnothing of importance without certain sacrifices which are intended to propitiate his unclean gods. In extreme cases these rites take the form of human sacrifices followedbycannibalism. Themoreusualvictimsare a white cock, which is plucked in pieces alive, or a blackgoat,whosethroatiscutandbodyburned.’ “Soyouseeoursavagefriendwasveryorthodox inhisritual. Itisgrotesque,Watson,”Holmesadded, as he slowly fastened his notebook, “but, as I have hadoccasiontoremark,thereisbutonestepfromthe grotesquetothehorrible.”n choosing a few typical cases which il- lustratetheremarkablementalqualitiesof myfriend,SherlockHolmes,Ihaveendeav- I oured, as far as possible, to select those which presented the minimum of sensationalism, while offering a fair field for his talents. It is, how- ever,unfortunatelyimpossibleentirelytoseparatethe sensationalfromthecriminal,andachroniclerisleft in the dilemma that he must either sacrifice details which are essential to his statement and so give a falseimpressionoftheproblem,orhemustusemat- terwhichchance,andnotchoice,hasprovidedhim with. WiththisshortprefaceIshallturntomynotes of what proved to be a strange, though a peculiarly terrible,chainofevents.</s>It was a blazing hot day in August. Baker Street waslikeanoven,andtheglareofthesunlightupon the yellow brickwork of the house across the road was painful to the eye. It was hard to believe that thesewerethesamewallswhichloomedsogloomily through the fogs of winter. Our blinds were half- drawn,andHolmeslaycurleduponthesofa,reading andre-readingaletterwhichhehadreceivedbythe morningpost. Formyself,mytermofserviceinIndia had trained me to stand heat better than cold, and a thermometer at ninety was no hardship. But the morning paper was uninteresting. Parliament had risen. Everybody was out of town, and I yearned for the glades of the New Forest or the shingle of Southsea. A depleted bank account had caused me to postpone my holiday, and as to my companion, neitherthecountrynortheseapresentedtheslightest attractiontohim. Helovedtolieintheverycenterof fivemillionsofpeople,withhisfilamentsstretching out and running through them, responsive to every little rumour or suspicion of unsolved crime. Ap- preciationofnaturefoundnoplaceamonghismany gifts, and his only change was when he turned his mind from the evil-doer of the town to track down hisbrotherofthecountry.</s>FindingthatHolmeswastooabsorbedforconver- sationIhadtossedsidethebarrenpaper,andleaning backinmychairIfellintoabrownstudy. Suddenly mycompanion’svoicebrokeinuponmythoughts: “Youareright,Watson,”saidhe. “Itdoesseema mostpreposterouswayofsettlingadispute.” “Mostpreposterous!”Iexclaimed,andthensud- denly realizing how he had echoed the inmost thoughtofmysoul,Isatupinmychairandstaredat himinblankamazement.</s>“Whatisthis,Holmes?”Icried. “Thisisbeyond anythingwhichIcouldhaveimagined.” Helaughedheartilyatmyperplexity.</s>“You remember,” said he, “that some little time ago when I read you the passage in one of Poe’s sketchesinwhichaclosereasonerfollowstheunspo- kenthoughtsofhiscompanion,youwereinclinedto treat the matter as a mere tour-de-force of the author.</s>On my remarking that I was constantly in the habit ofdoingthesamethingyouexpressedincredulity.” “Oh,no!” “Perhapsnotwithyourtongue,mydearWatson, butcertainlywithyoureyebrows. SowhenIsawyou throw down your paper and enter upon a train of thought,Iwasveryhappytohavetheopportunityof readingitoff,andeventuallyofbreakingintoit,asa proofthatIhadbeeninrapportwithyou.” ButIwasstillfarfromsatisfied. “Intheexample which you read to me,” said I, “the reasoner drew his conclusions from the actions of the man whom he observed. If I remember right, he stumbled over a heap of stones, looked up at the stars, and so on.</s>ButIhavebeenseatedquietlyinmychair,andwhat cluescanIhavegivenyou?” “You do yourself an injustice. The features are giventomanasthemeansbywhichheshallexpress hisemotions,andyoursarefaithfulservants.” “Do you mean to say that you read my train of thoughtsfrommyfeatures?” “Yourfeaturesandespeciallyyoureyes. Perhaps you cannot yourself recall how your reverie com- menced?” “No,Icannot.” “ThenIwilltellyou. Afterthrowingdownyour paper, which was the action which drew my atten- tion to you, you sat for half a minute with a vacant expression. Then your eyes fixed themselves upon your newly framed picture of General Gordon, and I saw by the alteration in your face that a train of thoughthadbeenstarted. Butitdidnotleadveryfar.</s>Youreyesflashedacrosstotheunframedportraitof Henry Ward Beecher which stands upon the top of yourbooks. Thenyouglancedupatthewall,andof courseyourmeaningwasobvious. Youwerethinking that if the portrait were framed it would just cover thatbarespaceandcorrespondwithGordon’spicture there.” “Youhavefollowedmewonderfully!”Iexclaimed.</s>“SofarIcouldhardlyhavegoneastray. Butnow yourthoughtswentbacktoBeecher,andyoulooked hardacrossasifyouwerestudyingthecharacterin hisfeatures. Thenyoureyesceasedtopucker,butyoucontinuedtolookacross,andyourfacewasthought- ful. You were recalling the incidents of Beecher’s career. I was well aware that you could not do this withoutthinkingofthemissionwhichheundertook onbehalfoftheNorthatthetimeoftheCivilWar,for Irememberyourexpressingyourpassionateindigna- tionatthewayinwhichhewasreceivedbythemore turbulentofourpeople. Youfeltsostronglyaboutit that I knew you could not think of Beecher without thinking of that also. When a moment later I saw youreyeswanderawayfromthepicture,Isuspected thatyourmindhadnowturnedtotheCivilWar,and whenIobservedthatyourlipsset,youreyessparkled, andyourhandsclenchedIwaspositivethatyouwere indeedthinkingofthegallantrywhichwasshownby bothsidesinthatdesperatestruggle. Butthen,again, your face grew sadder, you shook your head. You weredwellinguponthesadnessandhorroranduse- lesswasteoflife. Yourhandstoletowardsyourown oldwoundandasmilequiveredonyourlips,which showedmethattheridiculoussideofthismethodof settlinginternationalquestionshadforceditselfupon your mind. At this point I agreed with you that it was preposterous and was glad to find that all my deductionshadbeencorrect.” “Absolutely!”saidI.“Andnowthatyouhaveex- plainedit,IconfessthatIamasamazedasbefore.” “Itwasverysuperficial,mydearWatson,Iassure you. Ishouldnothaveintrudedituponyourattention had you not shown some incredulity the other day.</s>But I have in my hands here a little problem which may prove to be more difficult of solution than my small essay in thought reading. Have you observed in the paper a short paragraph referring to the re- markablecontentsofapacketsentthroughthepost toMissCushing,ofCrossStreet,Croydon?” “No,Isawnothing.” “Ah! thenyoumusthaveoverlookedit. Justtoss itovertome. Hereitis,underthefinancialcolumn.</s>Perhapsyouwouldbegoodenoughtoreaditaloud.” Ipickedupthepaperwhichhehadthrownbackto meandreadtheparagraphindicated. Itwasheaded, “AGruesomePacket.” “MissSusanCushing,livingatCrossStreet, Croydon, has been made the victim of what must be regarded as a peculiarly revolting practicaljokeunlesssomemoresinistermean- ingshouldprovetobeattachedtotheincident.</s>At two o’clock yesterday afternoon a small packet, wrapped in brown paper, was handed in by the postman. A cardboard box was in- side, which was filled with coarse salt. On emptyingthis,MissCushingwashorrifiedto findtwohumanears,apparentlyquitefreshly severed. Theboxhadbeensentbyparcelpost from Belfast upon the morning before. There isnoindicationastothesender,andthemat- ter is the more mysterious as Miss Cushing, who is a maiden lady of fifty, has led a most retired life, and has so few acquaintances or correspondentsthatitisarareeventforherto receiveanythingthroughthepost. Someyears ago, however, when she resided at Penge, she let apartments in her house to three young medical students, whom she was obliged to get rid of on account of their noisy and ir- regular habits. The police are of opinion that this outrage may have been perpetrated upon Miss Cushing by these youths, who owed her a grudge and who hoped to frighten her by sending her these relics of the dissecting- rooms. Some probability is lent to the the- orybythefactthatoneofthesestudentscame from the north of Ireland, and, to the best of Miss Cushing’s belief, from Belfast. In the meantime, the matter is being actively inves- tigated,Mr.Lestrade,oneoftheverysmartest ofourdetectiveofficers,beinginchargeofthe case.” “So much for the Daily Chronicle,” said Holmes as I finishedreading. “NowforourfriendLestrade. Ihad anotefromhimthismorning,inwhichhesays: “I think that this case is very much in yourline. Wehaveeveryhopeofclearing thematterup,butwefindalittledifficulty in getting anything to work upon. We have,ofcourse,wiredtotheBelfastpost- office,butalargenumberofparcelswere handedinuponthatday,andtheyhaveno meansofidentifyingthisparticularone,or of remembering the sender. The box is a half-poundboxofhoneydewtobaccoand doesnothelpusinanyway. Themedical student theory still appears to me to be themostfeasible,butifyoushouldhavea fewhourstospareIshouldbeveryhappy toseeyououthere. Ishallbeeitheratthe houseorinthepolice-stationallday.</s>“Whatsayyou,Watson? Canyourisesuperiorto the heat and run down to Croydon with me on the offchanceofacaseforyourannals?” “Iwaslongingforsomethingtodo.”“You shall have it then. Ring for our boots and tell them to order a cab. I’ll be back in a moment when I have changed my dressing-gown and filled mycigar-case.” A shower of rain fell while we were in the train, andtheheatwasfarlessoppressiveinCroydonthan intown. Holmeshadsentonawire,sothatLestrade, aswiry,asdapper,andasferret-likeasever,waswait- ingforusatthestation. Awalkoffiveminutestook ustoCrossStreet,whereMissCushingresided.</s>Itwasaverylongstreetoftwo-storybrickhouses, neat and prim, with whitened stone steps and little groups of aproned women gossiping at the doors.</s>Halfway down, Lestrade stopped and tapped at a door,whichwasopenedbyasmallservantgirl. Miss Cushingwassittinginthefrontroom,intowhichwe were ushered. She was a placid-faced woman, with large, gentle eyes, and grizzled hair curving down overhertemplesoneachside. Aworkedantimacas- sar lay upon her lap and a basket of coloured silks stooduponastoolbesideher.</s>“Theyareintheouthouse,thosedreadfulthings,” saidsheasLestradeentered. “Iwishthatyouwould takethemawayaltogether.” “SoIshall,MissCushing. Ionlykeptthemhere untilmyfriend,Mr.Holmes,shouldhaveseenthem inyourpresence.” “Whyinmypresence,sir?” “Incasehewishedtoaskanyquestions.” “What is the use of asking me questions when I tellyouIknownothingwhateveraboutit?” “Quiteso,madam,”saidHolmesinhissoothing way. “I have no doubt that you have been annoyed morethanenoughalreadyoverthisbusiness.” “IndeedIhave,sir. Iamaquietwomanandlive a retired life. It is something new for me to see my nameinthepapersandtofindthepoliceinmyhouse.</s>Iwon’thavethosethingsinhere,Mr.Lestrade. Ifyou wishtoseethemyoumustgototheouthouse.” It was a small shed in the narrow garden which ranbehindthehouse. Lestradewentinandbrought out a yellow cardboard box, with a piece of brown paper and some string. There was a bench at the end of the path, and we all sat down while Homes examinedonebyone,thearticleswhichLestradehad handedtohim.</s>“The string is exceedingly interesting,” he re- marked, holding it up to the light and sniffing at it. “Whatdoyoumakeofthisstring,Lestrade?” “Ithasbeentarred.” “Precisely. Itisapieceoftarredtwine. Youhave also,nodoubt,remarkedthatMissCushinghascut thecordwithascissors,ascanbeseenbythedouble frayoneachside. Thisisofimportance.” “Icannotseetheimportance,”saidLestrade.</s>“Theimportanceliesinthefactthattheknotisleft intact,andthatthisknotisofapeculiarcharacter.” “Itisveryneatlytied. Ihadalreadymadeanote ofthateffect,”saidLestradecomplacently.</s>“Somuchforthestring,then,”saidHolmes,smil- ing, “now for the box wrapper. Brown paper, with a distinct smell of coffee. What, did you not ob- serve it? I think there can be no doubt of it. Ad- dressprintedinratherstragglingcharacters: ‘MissS.</s>Cushing,CrossStreet,Croydon.’ Donewithabroad- pointedpen,probablyaJ,andwithveryinferiorink.</s>Theword‘Croydon’hasbeenoriginallyspelledwith an‘i’,whichhasbeenchangedto‘y’. Theparcelwas directed, then, by a man—the printing is distinctly masculine—of limited education and unacquainted withthetownofCroydon. Sofar,sogood! Thebox isayellow,half-poundhoneydewbox,withnothing distinctivesavetwothumbmarksattheleftbottom corner. Itisfilledwithroughsaltofthequalityused for preserving hides and other of the coarser com- mercialpurposes. Andembeddedinitarethesevery singularenclosures.” Hetookoutthetwoearsashespoke,andlaying aboardacrosshiskneeheexaminedthemminutely, whileLestradeandI,bendingforwardoneachside of him, glanced alternately at these dreadful relics and at the thoughtful, eager face of our companion.</s>Finally he returned them to the box once more and satforawhileindeepmeditation.</s>“You have observed, of course,” said he at last, “thattheearsarenotapair.” “Yes,Ihavenoticedthat. Butifthisweretheprac- ticaljokeofsomestudentsfromthedissecting-rooms, itwouldbeaseasyforthemtosendtwooddearsas apair.” “Precisely. Butthisisnotapracticaljoke.” “Youaresureofit?” “The presumption is strongly against it. Bodies in the dissecting-rooms are injected with preserva- tivefluid. Theseearsbearnosignsofthis. Theyare fresh,too. Theyhavebeencutoffwithabluntinstru- ment, which would hardly happen if a student had doneit. Again,carbolicorrectifiedspiritswouldbe thepreservativeswhichwouldsuggestthemselvesto the medical mind, certainly not rough salt. I repeatthat there is no practical joke here, but that we are investigatingaseriouscrime.” AvaguethrillranthroughmeasIlistenedtomy companion’swordsandsawthesterngravitywhich had hardened his features. This brutal preliminary seemed to shadow forth some strange and inexpli- cable horror in the background. Lestrade, however, shookhisheadlikeamanwhoisonlyhalfconvinced.</s>“Thereareobjectionstothejoketheory,nodoubt,” saidhe,“buttherearemuchstrongerreasonsagainst theother. Weknowthatthiswomanhasledamost quiet and respectable life at Penge and here for the last twenty years. She has hardly been away from herhomeforadayduringthattime. Whyonearth, then,shouldanycriminalsendhertheproofsofhis guilt,especiallyas,unlesssheisamostconsummate actress, she understands quite as little of the matter aswedo?” “That is the problem which we have to solve,” Holmesanswered,“andformypartIshallsetabout itbypresumingthatmyreasoningiscorrect,andthat adoublemurderhasbeencommitted. Oneofthese earsisawoman’s,small,finelyformed,andpierced foranearring. Theotherisaman’s,sun-burned,dis- coloured,andalsopiercedforanearring. Thesetwo peoplearepresumablydead,orweshouldhaveheard theirstorybeforenow. To-dayisFriday. Thepacket waspostedonThursdaymorning. Thetragedy,then, occurredonWednesdayorTuesday,orearlier. Ifthe twopeopleweremurdered,whobuttheirmurderer wouldhavesent thissign of hisworkto MissCush- ing? We may take it that the sender of the packet is the man whom we want. But he must have some strongreasonforsendingMissCushingthispacket.</s>Whatreasonthen? Itmusthavebeentotellherthat thedeedwasdone;ortopainher,perhaps. Butinthat casesheknowswhoitis. Doessheknow? Idoubtit.</s>If she knew, why should she call the police in? She mighthaveburiedtheears,andnoonewouldhave been the wiser. That is what she would have done if she had wished to shield the criminal. But if she doesnotwishtoshieldhimshewouldgivehisname.</s>Thereisatangleherewhichneedsstraighteningout.” He had been talking in a high, quick voice, staring blanklyupoverthegardenfence,butnowhesprang brisklytohisfeetandwalkedtowardsthehouse.</s>“IhaveafewquestionstoaskMissCushing,”said he.</s>“InthatcaseImayleaveyouhere,”saidLestrade, “for I have another small business on hand. I think thatIhavenothingfurthertolearnfromMissCush- ing. Youwillfindmeatthepolice-station.” “We shall look in on our way to the train,” an- sweredHolmes. AmomentlaterheandIwereback inthefrontroom,wheretheimpassiveladywasstill quietlyworkingawayatherantimacassar. Sheputit downonherlapasweenteredandlookedatuswith herfrank,searchingblueeyes.</s>“Iamconvinced,sir,”shesaid,“thatthismatteris amistake,andthattheparcelwasnevermeantforme atall. Ihavesaidthisseveraltimestothegentlemen from Scotland Yard, but he simply laughs at me. I havenotanenemyintheworld,asfarasIknow,so whyshouldanyoneplaymesuchatrick?” “I am coming to be of the same opinion, Miss Cushing,” said Holmes, taking a seat beside her. “I think that it is more than probable—” He paused, and I was surprised, on glancing round to see that hewasstaringwithsingularintentnessatthelady’s profile. Surprise and satisfaction were both for an instanttobereaduponhiseagerface,thoughwhen sheglancedroundtofindoutthecauseofhissilence hehadbecomeasdemureasever. Istaredhardmy- self at her flat, grizzled hair, her trim cap, her little giltearrings,herplacidfeatures;butIcouldseenoth- ingwhichcouldaccountformycompanion’sevident excitement.</s>“Therewereoneortwoquestions—” “Oh,Iamwearyofquestions!”criedMissCushing impatiently.</s>“Youhavetwosisters,Ibelieve.” “Howcouldyouknowthat?” “I observed the very instant that I entered the room that you have a portrait group of three ladies uponthemantelpiece,oneofwhomisundoubtedly yourself,whiletheothersaresoexceedinglylikeyou thattherecouldbenodoubtoftherelationship.” “Yes, you are quite right. Those are my sisters, SarahandMary.” “Andhereatmyelbowisanotherportrait,taken atLiverpool,ofyouryoungersister,inthecompany ofamanwhoappearstobeastewardbyhisuniform.</s>Iobservethatshewasunmarriedatthetime.” “Youareveryquickatobserving.” “Thatismytrade.” “Well,youarequiteright. Butshewasmarriedto Mr. Browner a few days afterwards. He was on the SouthAmericanlinewhenthatwastaken,buthewas sofondofherthathecouldn’tabidetoleaveherfor so long, and he got into the Liverpool and London boats.” “Ah,theConqueror,perhaps?”“No, the May Day, when last I heard. Jim came downheretoseemeonce. Thatwasbeforehebroke thepledge;butafterwardshewouldalwaystakedrink when he was ashore, and a little drink would send himstark,staringmad. Ah! itwasabaddaythatever he took a glass in his hand again. First he dropped me,thenhequarrelledwithSarah,andnowthatMary has stopped writing we don’t know how things are goingwiththem.” ItwasevidentthatMissCushinghadcomeupon a subject on which she felt very deeply. Like most people who lead a lonely life, she was shy at first, but ended by becoming extremely communicative.</s>Shetoldusmanydetailsaboutherbrother-in-lawthe steward, and then wandering off on the subject of her former lodgers, the medical students, she gave us a long account of their delinquencies, with their namesandthoseoftheirhospitals. Holmeslistened attentivelytoeverything,throwinginaquestionfrom timetotime.</s>“Aboutyoursecondsister,Sarah,”saidhe. “Iwon- der,sinceyouarebothmaidenladies,thatyoudonot keephousetogether.” “Ah! youdon’tknowSarah’stemperoryouwould wondernomore. ItrieditwhenIcametoCroydon, and we kept on until about two months ago, when wehadtopart. Idon’twanttosayawordagainstmy ownsister,butshewasalwaysmeddlesomeandhard toplease,wasSarah.” “YousaythatshequarrelledwithyourLiverpool relations.” “Yes,andtheywerethebestoffriendsatonetime.</s>Why, she went up there to live in order to be near them. And now she has no word hard enough for Jim Browner. The last six months that she was here shewouldspeakofnothingbuthisdrinkingandhis ways. He had caught her meddling, I suspect, and givenherabitofhismind,andthatwasthestartof it.” “Thankyou,MissCushing,”saidHolmes,rising andbowing. “YoursisterSarahlives,Ithinkyousaid, atNewStreet,Wallington? Good-bye,andIamvery sorrythatyoushouldhavebeentroubledoveracase withwhich,asyousay,youhavenothingwhateverto do.” There was a cab passing as we came out, and Holmeshailedit.</s>“HowfartoWallington?”heasked.</s>“Onlyaboutamile,sir.” “Very good. Jump in, Watson. We must strike whiletheironishot. Simpleasthecaseis,therehave beenoneortwoveryinstructivedetailsinconnection withit. Justpullupatatelegraphofficeasyoupass, cabby.” Holmessentoffashortwireandfortherestofthe drivelaybackinthecab,withhishattiltedoverhis nosetokeepthesunfromhisface. Ourdrivepulled upatahousewhichwasnotunliketheonewhichwe hadjustquitted. Mycompanionorderedhimtowait, andhadhishandupontheknocker, whenthedoor openedandagraveyounggentlemaninblack,with averyshinyhat,appearedonthestep.</s>“IsMissCushingathome?”askedHolmes.</s>“Miss Sarah Cushing is extremely ill,” said he.</s>“She has been suffering since yesterday from brain symptomsof greatseverity. Ashermedical adviser, Icannotpossiblytaketheresponsibilityofallowing anyone to see her. I should recommend you to call againintendays.”Hedrewonhisgloves,closedthe door,andmarchedoffdownthestreet.</s>“Well, if we can’t we can’t,” said Holmes, cheer- fully.</s>“Perhaps she could not or would not have told youmuch.” “I did not wish her to tell me anything. I only wanted to look at her. However, I think that I have got all that I want. Drive us to some decent hotel, cabby, where we may have some lunch, and after- wards we shall drop down upon friend Lestrade at thepolice-station.” We had a pleasant little meal together, during whichHolmeswouldtalkaboutnothingbutviolins, narratingwithgreatexultationhowhehadpurchased his own Stradivarius, which was worth at least five hundred guineas, at a Jew broker’s in Tottenham Court Road for fifty-five shillings. This led him to Paganini, and we sat for an hour over a bottle of claret while he told me anecdote after anecdote of that extraordinary man. The afternoon was far ad- vancedandthehotglarehadsoftenedintoamellow glowbeforewefoundourselvesatthepolice-station.</s>Lestradewaswaitingforusatthedoor.</s>“Atelegramforyou,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe.</s>“Ha! Itistheanswer!”Hetoreitopen,glancedhis eyesoverit,andcrumpleditintohispocket. “That’s allright,”saidhe.</s>“Haveyoufoundoutanything?” “Ihavefoundouteverything!” “What!” Lestrade stared at him in amazement.</s>“Youarejoking.”“Iwasnevermoreseriousinmylife. Ashocking crime has been committed, and I think I have now laidbareeverydetailofit.” “Andthecriminal?” Holmes scribbled a few words upon the back of oneofhisvisitingcardsandthrewitovertoLestrade.</s>“Thatisthename,”hesaid. “Youcannoteffectan arrestuntilto-morrownightattheearliest. Ishould prefer that you do not mention my name at all in connectionwiththecase,asIchoosetobeonlyassoci- atedwiththosecrimeswhichpresentsomedifficulty in their solution. Come on, Watson.” We strode off togethertothestation, leavingLestradestillstaring withadelightedfaceatthecardwhichHolmeshad thrownhim.</s>“The case,” said Sherlock Holmes as we chatted overorcigarsthatnightinourroomsatBakerStreet, “isonewhere,asintheinvestigationswhichyouhave chronicled under the names of ‘A Study in Scarlet’ andof‘TheSignofFour,’wehavebeencompelledto reasonbackwardfromeffectstocauses. Ihavewritten toLestradeaskinghimtosupplyuswiththedetails whicharenowwanting,andwhichhewillonlyget afterhehadsecuredhisman. Thathemaybesafely trusted to do, for although he is absolutely devoid of reason, he is as tenacious as a bulldog when he onceunderstandswhathehastodo,andindeed,itis justthistenacitywhichhasbroughthimtothetopat ScotlandYard.” “Yourcaseisnotcomplete,then?”Iasked.</s>“Itisfairlycompleteinessentials. Weknowwho theauthoroftherevoltingbusinessis,althoughone of the victims still escapes us. Of course, you have formedyourownconclusions.” “IpresumethatthisJimBrowner,thestewardofa Liverpoolboat,isthemanwhomyoususpect?” “Oh! itismorethanasuspicion.” “And yet I cannot see anything save very vague indications.” “On the contrary, to my mind nothing could be more clear. Let me run over the principal steps. We approached the case, you remember, with an abso- lutelyblankmind,whichisalwaysanadvantage. We hadformednotheories. Weweresimplytheretoob- serveandtodrawinferencesfromourobservations.</s>Whatdidweseefirst? Averyplacidandrespectable lady,whoseemedquiteinnocentofanysecret,anda portraitwhichshowedmethatshehadtwoyounger sisters. It instantly flashed across my mind that the boxmighthavebeenmeantforoneofthese. Isetthe idea aside as one which could be disproved or con- firmedatourleisure. Thenwewenttothegarden,as youremember,andwesawtheverysingularcontents ofthelittleyellowbox.</s>“The string was of the quality which is used by sail-makersaboardship,andatonceawhiffofthesea wasperceptibleinourinvestigation. WhenIobserved thattheknotwasonewhichispopularwithsailors, thattheparcelhadbeenpostedataport,andthatthe maleearwaspiercedforanearringwhichissomuch more common among sailors than landsmen, I was quitecertainthatalltheactorsinthetragedywereto befoundamongourseafaringclasses.</s>“WhenIcametoexaminetheaddressofthepacket I observed that it was to Miss S. Cushing. Now, the oldestsisterwould,ofcourse,beMissCushing,and althoughherinitialwas‘S’itmightbelongtooneof theothersaswell. Inthatcaseweshouldhavetocom- menceourinvestigationfromafreshbasisaltogether.</s>Ithereforewentintothehousewiththeintentionof clearing up this point. I was about to assure Miss CushingthatIwasconvincedthatamistakehadbeen madewhenyoumayrememberthatIcamesuddenly toastop. ThefactwasthatIhadjustseensomething which filled me with surprise and at the same time narrowedthefieldofourinquiryimmensely.</s>“As a medical man, you are aware, Watson, that thereisnopartofthebodywhichvariessomuchas thehumanear. Eachearisasarulequitedistinctive anddiffersfromallotherones. Inlastyear’sAnthro- pologicalJournalyouwillfindtwoshortmonographs from my pen upon the subject. I had, therefore, ex- aminedtheearsintheboxwiththeeyesofanexpert andhadcarefullynotedtheiranatomicalpeculiarities.</s>Imaginemysurprise,then,whenonlookingatMiss CushingIperceivedthatherearcorrespondedexactly with the female ear which I had just inspected. The matter was entirely beyond coincidence. There was the same shortening of the pinna, the same broad curveoftheupperlobe,thesameconvolutionofthe innercartilage. Inallessentialsitwasthesameear.</s>“In the first place, her sister’s name was Sarah, andheraddresshaduntilrecentlybeenthesame,so that it was quite obvious how the mistake had oc- curredandforwhomthepacketwasmeant. Thenwe heardofthissteward,marriedtothethirdsister,and learnedthathehadatonetimebeensointimatewith MissSarahthatshehadactuallygoneuptoLiverpool tobeneartheBrowners,butaquarrelhadafterwards dividedthem. Thisquarrelhadputastoptoallcom- municationsforsomemonths,sothatifBrownerhadoccasiontoaddressapackettoMissSarah,hewould undoubtedlyhavedonesotoheroldaddress.</s>“And now the matter had begun to straighten itself out wonderfully. We had learned of the exis- tence of this steward, an impulsive man, of strong passions—yourememberthathethrewupwhatmust havebeenaverysuperiorberthinordertobenearer to his wife—subject, too, to occasional fits of hard drinking. Wehadreasontobelievethathiswifehad beenmurdered,andthataman—presumablyasea- faring man—had been murdered at the same time.</s>Jealousy,ofcourse,atoncesuggestsitselfasthemo- tive for the crime. And why should these proofs of the deed be sent to Miss Sarah Cushing? Probably because during her residence in Liverpool she had somehandinbringingabouttheeventswhichledto the tragedy. You will observe that this line of boats call at Belfast, Dublin, and Waterford; so that, pre- suming that Browner had committed the deed and hadembarkedatonceuponhissteamer,theMayDay, Belfastwouldbethefirstplaceatwhichhecouldpost histerriblepacket.</s>“Asecondsolutionwasatthisstageobviouslypos- sible,andalthoughIthoughtitexceedinglyunlikely, Iwasdeterminedtoelucidateitbeforegoingfurther.</s>AnunsuccessfullovermighthavekilledMr.andMrs.</s>Browner, and the male ear might have belonged to the husband. There were many grave objections to thistheory,butitwasconceivable. Ithereforesentoff atelegramtomyfriendAlgar,oftheLiverpoolforce, and asked him to find out if Mrs. Browner were at home,andifBrownerhaddepartedintheMayDay.</s>ThenwewentontoWallingtontovisitMissSarah.</s>“I was curious, in the first place, to see how far thefamilyearhadbeenreproducedinher. Then,of course,shemightgiveusveryimportantinformation, butIwasnotsanguinethatshewould. Shemusthave heard of the business the day before, since all Croy- don was ringing with it, and she alone could have understood for whom the packet was meant. If she hadbeenwillingtohelpjusticeshewouldprobably havecommunicatedwiththepolicealready. However, it was clearly our duty to see her, so we went. We foundthatthenewsofthearrivalofthepacket—for herillnessdatedfromthattime—hadsuchaneffect upon her as to bring on brain fever. It was clearer thaneverthatsheunderstooditsfullsignificance,but equallyclearthatweshouldhavetowaitsometime foranyassistancefromher.</s>“However,wewerereallyindependentofherhelp.</s>Ouranswerswerewaitingforusatthepolice-station, where I had directed Algar to send them. Nothing couldbemoreconclusive. Mrs.Browner’shousehad beenclosedformorethanthreedays,andtheneigh- bourswereofopinionthatshehadgonesouthtosee herrelatives. Ithadbeenascertainedattheshipping officesthatBrownerhadleftaboardoftheMayDay, andIcalculatethatsheisdueintheThamestomor- row night. When he arrives he will be met by the obtuse but resolute Lestrade, and I have no doubt thatweshallhaveallourdetailsfilledin.” SherlockHolmeswasnotdisappointedinhisex- pectations. Twodayslaterhereceivedabulkyenve- lope,whichcontainedashortnotefromthedetective, andatypewrittendocument,whichcoveredseveral pagesoffoolscap.</s>“Lestrade has got him all right,” said Holmes, glancingupatme. “Perhapsitwouldinterestyouto hearwhathesays.</s>“MydearMr.Holmes: “In accordance with the scheme which we had formed in order to test our the- ories” [“the ‘we’ is rather fine, Watson, is it not?”] “I went down to the Albert Dock yesterday at 6 p.m., and boarded the S.S. May Day, belonging to the Liver- pool, Dublin, and London Steam Packet Company. Oninquiry,Ifoundthatthere was a steward on board of the name of JamesBrownerandthathehadacteddur- ing the voyage in such an extraordinary manner that the captain had been com- pelledtorelievehimofhisduties. Onde- scendingtohisberth,Ifoundhimseated uponachestwithhisheadsunkuponhis hands,rockinghimselftoandfro. Heisa big,powerfulchap,clean-shaven,andvery swarthy—something like Aldrige, who helpedusintheboguslaundryaffair. He jumped up when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call acoupleofriverpolice,whowereround thecorner,butheseemedtohavenoheart in him, and he held out his hands qui- etly enough for the darbies. We brought himalongtothecells,andhisboxaswell, forwethoughttheremightbesomething incriminating; but, bar a big sharp knife such as most sailors have, we got noth- ing for our trouble. However, we find thatweshallwantnomoreevidence,for on being brought before the inspector at thestationheaskedleavetomakeastate- ment,whichwas,ofcourse,takendown,justashemadeit,byourshorthandman.</s>We had three copies typewritten, one of whichIenclose. Theaffairproves,asIal- waysthoughtitwould,tobeanextremely simpleone,butIamobligedtoyouforas- sistingmeinmyinvestigation. Withkind regards, —“Yoursverytruly, “G.Lestrade.</s>“Hum! Theinvestigationreallywasaverysimple one,”remarkedHolmes,“butIdon’tthinkitstruck himinthatlightwhenhefirstcalledusin. However, let us see what Jim Browner has to say for himself.</s>ThisishisstatementasmadebeforeInspectorMont- gomeryattheShadwellPoliceStation,andithasthe advantageofbeingverbatim.” “‘Have I anything to say? Yes, I have a deal to say. I have to make a clean breast of it all.</s>Youcanhangme,oryoucanleavemealone. I don’tcareaplugwhichyoudo. ItellyouI’ve not shut an eye in sleep since I did it, and I don’tbelieveIeverwillagainuntilIgetpast all waking. Sometimes it’s his face, but most generally it’s hers. I’m never without one or the other before me. He looks frowning and black-like,butshehasakindo’surpriseupon herface. Ay,thewhitelamb,shemightwellbe surprised when she read death on a face that hadseldomlookedanythingbutloveuponher before.</s>“‘ButitwasSarah’sfault,andmaythecurse of a broken man put a blight on her and set the blood rotting in her veins! It’s not that I want to clear myself. I know that I went back to drink, like the beast that I was. But she would have forgiven me; she would have stuck as close to me as a rope to a block if thatwomanhadneverdarkenedourdoor. For Sarah Cushing loved me—that’s the root of the business—she loved me until all her love turned to poisonous hate when she knew that I thought more of my wife’s footmark in the mudthanIdidofherwholebodyandsoul.</s>“‘There were three sisters altogether. The old onewasjustagoodwoman,thesecondwasa devil, and the third was an angel. Sarah was thirty-three,andMarywastwenty-ninewhen I married. We were just as happy as the day was long when we set up house together, and in all Liverpool there was no better woman than my Mary. And then we asked Sarah up for a week, and the week grew into a month, and one thing led to another, until she was justoneofourselves.</s>“‘I was blue ribbon at that time, and we were putting a little money by, and all was as bright as a new dollar. My God, whoever wouldhavethoughtthatitcouldhavecometo this? Whoeverwouldhavedreamedit? “‘Iusedtobehomefortheweek-endsveryof- ten, and sometimes if the ship were held back forcargoIwouldhaveawholeweekatatime, and in this way I saw a deal of my sister-in- law, Sarah. She was a fine tall woman, black andquickandfierce,withaproudwayofcar- ryingherhead,andaglintfromhereyelikea spark from a flint. But when little Mary was there I had never a thought of her, and that I swearasIhopeforGod’smercy.</s>“‘It had seemed to me sometimes that she liked to be alone with me, or to coax me out for a walk with her, but I had never thought anything of that. But one evening my eyes were opened. I had come up from the ship and found my wife out, but Sarah at home.</s>“Where’sMary?”Iasked. “Oh, shehasgone to pay some accounts.” I was impatient and paced up and down the room. “Can’t you be happy for five minutes without Mary, Jim?” says she. “It’s a bad compliment to me that you can’t be contented with my society for so short a time.” “That’s all right, my lass,” said I, putting out my hand towards her in a kindly way, but she had it in both hers in an instant, and they burned as if they were in a fever. I looked into her eyes and I read it all there. Therewasnoneedforhertospeak,nor for me either. I frowned and drew my hand away. Then she stood by my side in silence for a bit, and then put up her hand and pat- tedmeontheshoulder. “SteadyoldJim!”said she,andwithakindo’mockinglaugh,sheran outoftheroom.</s>“‘Well, from that time Sarah hated me with herwholeheartandsoul,andsheisawoman who can hate, too. I was a fool to let her go on biding with us—a besotted fool—but I never said a word to Mary, for I knew it would grieve her. Things went on much as before, but after a time I began to find that there was a bit of a change in Mary herself.She had always been so trusting and so in- nocent, but now she became queer and sus- picious, wanting to know where I had been andwhatIhadbeendoing,andwhommylet- ters were from, and what I had in my pock- ets, and a thousand such follies. Day by day she grew queerer and more irritable, and we hadceaselessrowsaboutnothing. Iwasfairly puzzled by it all. Sarah avoided me now, but sheandMarywerejustinseparable. Icansee now how she was plotting and scheming and poisoning my wife’s mind against me, but I was such a blind beetle that I could not un- derstand it at the time. Then I broke my blue ribbonandbegantodrinkagain,butIthinkI should not have done it if Mary had been the same as ever. She had some reason to be dis- gusted with me now, and the gap between us began to be wider and wider. And then this AlecFairbairnchippedin, andthingsbecame athousandtimesblacker.</s>“‘ItwastoseeSarahthathecametomyhouse first, but soon it was to see us, for he was a manwithwinningways,andhemadefriends wherever he went. He was a dashing, swag- gering chap, smart and curled, who had seen half the world and could talk of what he had seen. He was good company, I won’t deny it, and he had wonderful polite ways with him for a sailor man, so that I think there must have been a time when he knew more of the poop than the forecastle. For a month he was in and out of my house, and never once did itcrossmymindthatharmmightcomeofhis soft,trickyways. Andthenatlastsomething mademesuspect,andfromthatdaymypeace wasgoneforever.</s>“‘It was only a little thing, too. I had come into the parlour unexpected, and as I walked inatthedoorIsawalightofwelcomeonmy wife’sface. Butasshesawwhoitwasitfaded again,andsheturnedawaywithalookofdis- appointment. Thatwasenoughforme. There was no one but Alec Fairbairn whose step she could have mistaken for mine. If I could have seen him then I should have killed him, for I have always been like a madman when my temper gets loose. Mary saw the devil’s light in my eyes, and she ran forward with her hands on my sleeve. “Don’t, Jim, don’t!” says she. “Where’s Sarah?” I asked. “In the kitchen,” says she. “Sarah,” says I as I went in,“thismanFairbairnisnevertodarkenmy door again.” “Why not?” says she. “Because Iorderit.”“Oh!”saysshe,“ifmyfriendsare notgoodenoughforthishouse,thenIamnot good enough for it either.” “You can do what you like,” says I, “but if Fairbairn shows his facehereagainI’llsendyouoneofhisearsfor a keepsake.” She was frightened by my face, I think,forsheneveransweredaword,andthe sameeveningsheleftmyhouse.</s>“‘Well,Idon’tknownowwhetheritwaspure devilryonthepartofthiswoman,orwhether shethoughtthatshecouldturnmeagainstmy wife by encouraging her to misbehave. Any- way, she took a house just two streets off and let lodgings to sailors. Fairbairn used to stay there, and Mary would go round to have tea withhersisterandhim. HowoftenshewentI don’tknow,butIfollowedheroneday,andas IbrokeinatthedoorFairbairngotawayover thebackgardenwall,likethecowardlyskunk that he was. I swore to my wife that I would kill her if I found her in his company again, andIledherbackwithme,sobbingandtrem- bling, and as white as a piece of paper. There was no trace of love between us any longer. I couldseethatshehatedmeandfearedme,and whenthethoughtofitdrovemetodrink,then shedespisedmeaswell.</s>“‘Well,Sarahfoundthatshecouldnotmakea livinginLiverpool,soshewentback,asIun- derstand, to live with her sister in Croydon, and things jogged on much the same as ever athome. Andthencamethisweekandallthe miseryandruin.</s>“‘It was in this way. We had gone on the May Day for a round voyage of seven days, but a hogshead got loose and started one of our plates, so that we had to put back into portfortwelvehours. Ilefttheshipandcame home,thinkingwhatasurpriseitwouldbefor mywife,andhopingthatmaybeshewouldbe glad to see me so soon. The thought was in my head as I turned into my own street, and atthatmomentacabpassedme,andthereshe was, sitting by the side of Fairbairn, the two chatting and laughing, with never a thought formeasIstoodwatchingthemfromthefoot- path.</s>“‘I tell you, and I give you my word for it, that from that moment I was not my own master, and it is all like a dim dream whenI look back on it. I had been drinking hard of late,andthetwothingstogetherfairlyturned my brain. There’s something throbbing in my head now, like a docker’s hammer, but that morning I seemed to have all Niagara whizzingandbuzzinginmyears.</s>“‘Well,Itooktomyheels,andIranafterthe cab. I had a heavy oak stick in my hand, and I tell you I saw red from the first; but as I ranIgotcunning,too,andhungbackalittle to see them without being seen. They pulled up soon at the railway station. There was a good crowd round the booking-office, so I got quite close to them without being seen. They tookticketsforNew Brighton. SodidI, butI got in three carriages behind them. When we reached it they walked along the Parade, and I was never more than a hundred yards from them. AtlastIsawthemhireaboatandstart for a row, for it was a very hot day, and they thought, no doubt, that it would be cooler on thewater.</s>“‘It was just as if they had been given into myhands. Therewasabitofahaze,andyou couldnotseemorethanafewhundredyards.</s>I hired a boat for myself, and I pulled after them. I could see the blur of their craft, but they were going nearly as fast as I, and they musthavebeenalongmilefromtheshorebe- fore I caught them up. The haze was like a curtain all round us, and there were we three inthemiddleofit. MyGod,shallIeverforget theirfaceswhentheysawwhowasintheboat thatwasclosinginuponthem? Shescreamed out. Hesworelikeamadmanandjabbedatme withanoar,forhemusthaveseendeathinmy eyes. Igotpastitandgotoneinwithmystick thatcrushedhisheadlikeanegg. Iwouldhave spared her, perhaps, for all my madness, but she threw her arms round him, crying out to him, and calling him “Alec.” I struck again, and she lay stretched beside him. I was like a wildbeastthenthathadtastedblood. IfSarah had been there, by the Lord, she should have joinedthem. Ipulledoutmyknife,and—well, there! I’ve said enough. It gave me a kind of savage joy when I thought how Sarah would feel when she had such signs as these of what her meddling had brought about. Then I tied the bodies into the boat, stove a plank, and stood by until they had sunk. I knew very wellthattheownerwouldthinkthattheyhad losttheirbearingsinthehaze,andhaddrifted off out to sea. I cleaned myself up, got back to land, and joined my ship without a soul having a suspicion of what had passed. That nightImadeupthepacketforSarahCushing, andnextdayIsentitfromBelfast.</s>“‘There you have the whole truth of it. You canhangme,ordowhatyoulikewithme,but youcannotpunishmeasIhavebeenpunished already. IcannotshutmyeyesbutIseethose twofacesstaringatme—staringatmeasthey staredwhenmyboatbrokethroughthehaze. I killedthemquick,buttheyarekillingmeslow; and if I have another night of it I shall be ei- ther mad or dead before morning. You won’t put me alone into a cell, sir? For pity’s sake don’t, and may you be treated in your day of agonyasyoutreatmenow.’ “Whatisthemeaningofit,Watson?”saidHolmes solemnly as he laid down the paper. “What object is served by this circle of misery and violence and fear? Itmusttendtosomeend,orelseouruniverse is ruled by chance, which is unthinkable. But what end? There is the great standing perennial problem to which human reason is as far from an answer as ever.”Table of PartOne.............................</s>PartTwo.............................</s>contents ................................. 775 ................................. 779CHAP art P ell, Mrs. Warren, I cannot see that you have any particular cause for uneasiness, nor do I understand why I, whose time W is of some value, should interfere in the matter. Ireallyhaveotherthingstoengageme.”So spokeSherlockHolmesandturnedbacktothegreat scrapbook in which he was arranging and indexing someofhisrecentmaterial.</s>Butthelandladyhadthepertinacityandalsothe cunningofhersex. Sheheldhergroundfirmly.</s>“Youarrangedanaffairforalodgerofminelast year,”shesaid—“Mr.FairdaleHobbs.” “Ah,yes—asimplematter.” “But he would never cease talking of it—your kindness,sir,andthewayinwhichyoubroughtlight into the darkness. I remembered his words when I wasindoubtanddarknessmyself. Iknowyoucould ifyouonlywould.” Holmes was accessible upon the side of flattery, andalso,todohimjustice,uponthesideofkindliness.</s>The two forces made him lay down his gum-brush withasighofresignationandpushbackhischair.</s>“Well,well,Mrs.Warren,letushearaboutit,then.</s>Youdon’tobjecttotobacco,Itakeit? Thankyou,Wat- son—the matches! You are uneasy, as I understand, because your new lodger remains in his rooms and youcannotseehim. Why,blessyou,Mrs.Warren,if I were your lodger you often would not see me for weeksonend.” “No doubt, sir; but this is different. It frightens me,Mr.Holmes. Ican’tsleepforfright. Tohearhis quickstepmovinghereandmovingtherefromearly morning to late at night, and yet never to catch so muchasaglimpseofhim—it’smorethanIcanstand.</s>My husband is as nervous over it as I am, but he is out at his work all day, while I get no rest from it.</s>Whatishehidingfor? Whathashedone? Exceptfor thegirl,Iamallaloneinthehousewithhim,andit’s morethanmynervescanstand.” Holmesleanedforwardandlaidhislong,thinfin- gersuponthewoman’sshoulder. Hehadanalmost hypnotic power of soothing when he wished. The scared look faded from her eyes, and her agitated featuressmoothedintotheirusualcommonplace. She satdowninthechairwhichhehadindicated.</s>“If I take it up I must understand every detail,” said he. “Take time to consider. The smallest point PTER I.</s>ne O maybethemostessential. Yousaythatthemancame tendaysagoandpaidyouforafortnight’sboardand lodging?” “He asked my terms, sir. I said fifty shillings a week. Thereisasmallsitting-roomandbedroom,and allcomplete,atthetopofthehouse.” “Well?” “Hesaid,‘I’llpayyoufivepoundsaweekifIcan haveitonmyownterms.’ I’mapoorwoman,sir,and Mr.Warrenearnslittle,andthemoneymeantmuch to me. He took out a ten-pound note, and he held itouttomethenandthere. ‘Youcanhavethesame every fortnight for a long time to come if you keep the terms,’ he said. ‘If not, I’ll have no more to do withyou.’ “Whatweretheterms?” “Well,sir,theywerethathewastohaveakeyof the house. That was all right. Lodgers often have them. Also,thathewastobeleftentirelytohimself andnever,uponanyexcuse,tobedisturbed.” “Nothingwonderfulinthat,surely?” “Notinreason,sir. Butthisisoutofallreason. He hasbeentherefortendays,andneitherMr.Warren, nor I, nor the girl has once set eyes upon him. We canhearthatquickstepofhispacingupanddown, upanddown,night,morning,andnoon;butexcept onthatfirstnighthehadneveroncegoneoutofthe house.” “Oh,hewentoutthefirstnight,didhe?” “Yes,sir,andreturnedverylate—afterwewereall inbed. Hetoldmeafterhehadtakentheroomsthat hewoulddosoandaskedmenottobarthedoor. I heardhimcomeupthestairaftermidnight.” “Buthismeals?” “It was his particular direction that we should always, when he rang, leave his meal upon a chair, outside his door. Then he rings again when he has finished,andwetakeitdownfromthesamechair. If hewantsanythingelseheprintsitonaslipofpaper andleavesit.” “Printsit?” “Yes,sir;printsitinpencil. Justtheword,nothing more. Here’s the one I brought to show you—soap.</s>Here’s another—match. This is one he left the first morning—dailygazette. Ileavethatpaperwithhis breakfasteverymorning.”“Dear me, Watson,” said Homes, staring with greatcuriosityattheslipsoffoolscapwhichtheland- lady had handed to him, “this is certainly a little unusual. SeclusionIcanunderstand;butwhyprint? Printing is a clumsy process. Why not write? What woulditsuggest,Watson?” “Thathedesiredtoconcealhishandwriting.” “But why? What can it matter to him that his landladyshouldhaveawordofhiswriting? Still,it may be as you say. Then, again, why such laconic messages?” “Icannotimagine.” “It opens a pleasing field for intelligent specula- tion. The words are written with a broad-pointed, violet-tintedpencilofanotunusualpattern. Youwill observe that the paper is torn away at the side here aftertheprintingwasdone,sothatthe‘s’of‘soap’is partlygone. Suggestive,Watson,isitnot?” “Ofcaution?” “Exactly. There was evidently some mark, some thumbprint, something which might give a clue to theperson’sidentity. Now. Mrs.Warren,yousaythat themanwasofmiddlesize,dark,andbearded. What agewouldhebe?” “Youngish,sir—notoverthirty.” “Well,canyougivemenofurtherindications?” “HespokegoodEnglish,sir,andyetIthoughthe wasaforeignerbyhisaccent.” “Andhewaswelldressed?” “Verysmartlydressed,sir—quitethegentleman.</s>Darkclothes—nothingyouwouldnote.” “Hegavenoname?” “No,sir.” “Andhashadnolettersorcallers?” “None.” “But surely you or the girl enter his room of a morning?” “No,sir;helooksafterhimselfentirely.” “Dear me! that is certainly remarkable. What abouthisluggage?” “He had one big brown bag with him—nothing else.” “Well, we don’t seem to have much material to help us. Do you say nothing has come out of that room—absolutelynothing?” The landlady drew an envelope from her bag; from it she shook out two burnt matches and a cigarette-enduponthetable.</s>“They were on his tray this morning. I brought them because I had heard that you can read great thingsoutofsmallones.” Holmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“There is nothing here,” said he. “The matches have,ofcourse,beenusedtolightcigarettes. Thatis obviousfromtheshortnessoftheburntend. Halfthe match is consumed in lighting a pipe or cigar. But, dear me! this cigarette stub is certainly remarkable.</s>The gentleman was bearded and moustached, you say?” “Yes,sir.” “I don’t understand that. I should say that only a clean-shaven man could have smoked this. Why, Watson, even your modest moustache would have beensinged.” “Aholder?”Isuggested.</s>“No,no;theendismatted. Isupposetherecould notbetwopeopleinyourrooms,Mrs.Warren?” “No,sir. HeeatssolittlethatIoftenwonderitcan keeplifeinone.” “Well,Ithinkwemustwaitforalittlemoremate- rial. Afterall,youhavenothingtocomplainof. You havereceivedyourrent,andheisnotatroublesome lodger, though he is certainly an unusual one. He paysyouwell,andifhechoosestolieconcealeditis nodirectbusinessofyours. Wehavenoexcuseforan intrusionuponhisprivacyuntilwehavesomereason tothinkthatthereisaguiltyreasonforit. I’vetaken up the matter, and I won’t lose sight of it. Report to me if anything fresh occurs, and rely upon my assistanceifitshouldbeneeded.</s>“Therearecertainlysomepointsofinterestinthis case,Watson,”heremarkedwhenthelandladyhad leftus. “Itmay,ofcourse,betrivial—individualeccen- tricity;oritmaybeverymuchdeeperthanappears on the surface. The first thing that strike one is the obviouspossibilitythatthepersonnowintherooms maybeentirelydifferentfromtheonewhoengaged them.” “Whyshouldyouthinkso?” “Well, apart form this cigarette-end, was it not suggestivethattheonlytimethelodgerwentoutwas immediately after his taking the rooms? He came back—or someone came back—when all witnesses were out of the way. We have no proof that the per- son who came back was the person who went out.</s>Then,again,themanwhotooktheroomsspokeEn- glishwell. Thisother,however,prints‘match’when itshouldhavebeen‘matches.’ Icanimaginethatthe wordwastakenoutofadictionary,whichwouldgivethenounbutnottheplural. Thelaconicstylemaybe toconcealtheabsenceofknowledgeofEnglish. Yes, Watson,therearegoodreasonstosuspectthatthere hasbeenasubstitutionoflodgers.” “Butforwhatpossibleend?” “Ah! there lies our problem. There is one rather obviouslineofinvestigation.”Hetookdownthegreat bookinwhich,daybyday,hefiledtheagonycolumns ofthevariousLondonjournals. “Dearme!”saidhe, turning over the pages, “what a chorus of groans, cries, and bleatings! What a rag-bag of singular happenings! But surely the most valuable hunting- ground that ever was given to a student of the un- usual! Thispersonisaloneandcannotbeapproached by letter without a breach of that absolute secrecy whichisdesired. Howisanynewsoranymessageto reachhimfromwithout? Obviouslybyadvertisement throughanewspaper. Thereseemsnootherway,and fortunatelyweneedconcernourselveswiththeone paperonly. HerearetheDailyGazetteextractsofthe lastfortnight. ‘LadywithablackboaatPrince’sSkat- ingClub’—thatwemaypass. ‘SurelyJimmywillnot breakhismother’sheart’—thatappearstobeirrele- vant. ‘If the lady who fainted on Brixton bus’—she does not interest me. ‘Every day my heart longs—’ Bleat,Watson—unmitigatedbleat! Ah,thisisalittle more possible. Listen to this: ‘Be patient. Will find some sure means of communications. Meanwhile, thiscolumn. G.’ThatistwodaysafterMrs.Warren’s lodgerarrived. Itsoundsplausible,doesitnot? The mysterious one could understand English, even if he could not print it. Let us see if we can pick up the trace again. Yes, here we are—three days later.</s>‘Am making successful arrangements. Patience and prudence. The clouds will pass. G.’ Nothing for a week after that. Then comes something much more definite: ‘Thepathisclearing. IfIfindchancesignal messageremembercodeagreed—OneA,twoB,and soon. Youwillhearsoon. G.’Thatwasinyesterday’s paper, and there is nothing in to-day’s. It’s all very appropriatetoMrs.Warren’slodger. Ifwewaitalittle, Watson,Idon’tdoubtthattheaffairwillgrowmore intelligible.” Soitproved;forinthemorningIfoundmyfriend standing on the hearthrug with his back to the fire andasmileofcompletesatisfactionuponhisface.</s>“How’sthis,Watson?”hecried,pickingupthepa- perfromthetable. “’Highredhousewithwhitestone facings. Thirdfloor. Secondwindowleft. Afterdusk.</s>G.’Thatisdefiniteenough. Ithinkafterbreakfastwe must make a little reconnaissance of Mrs. Warren’s neighbourhood. Ah,Mrs.Warren! whatnewsdoyou bringusthismorning?” Ourclienthadsuddenlyburstintotheroomwith an explosive energy which told of some new and momentousdevelopment.</s>“It’sapolicematter,Mr.Holmes!”shecried. “I’ll have no more of it! He shall pack out of there with hisbaggage. Iwouldhavegonestraightupandtold him so, only I thought it was but fair to you to take youropinionfirst. ButI’mattheendofmypatience, andwhenitcomestoknockingmyoldmanabout—” “KnockingMr.Warrenabout?” “Usinghimroughly,anyway.” “Butwhousedhimroughly?” “Ah! that’s what we want to know! It was this morning, sir. Mr. Warren is a timekeeper at Morton andWaylight’s,inTottenhamCourtRoad. Hehasto beoutofthehousebeforeseven. Well,thismorning hehadnotgonetenpacesdowntheroadwhentwo mencameupbehindhim,threwacoatoverhishead, andbundledhimintoacabthatwasbesidethecurb.</s>They drove him an hour, and then opened the door and shot him out. He lay in the roadway so shaken in his wits that he never saw what became of the cab. Whenhepickedhimselfuphefoundhewason HampsteadHeath;sohetookabushome,andthere heliesnowonhissofa,whileIcamestraightround totellyouwhathadhappened.” “Mostinteresting,”saidHolmes. “Didheobserve theappearanceofthesemen—didhehearthemtalk?” “No;heiscleandazed. Hejustknowsthathewas lifted up as if by magic and dropped as if by magic.</s>Twoaleastwereinit,andmaybethree.” “Andyouconnectthisattackwithyourlodger?” “Well,we’velivedtherefifteenyearsandnosuch happenings ever came before. I’ve had enough of him. Money’snoteverything. I’llhavehimoutofmy housebeforethedayisdone.” “Wait a bit, Mrs. Warren. Do nothing rash. I be- gin to think that this affair may be very much more importantthanappearedatfirstsight. Itisclearnow that some danger is threatening your lodger. It is equallyclearthathisenemies,lyinginwaitforhim nearyourdoor,mistookyourhusbandforhiminthe foggy morning light. On discovering their mistake theyreleasedhim. Whattheywouldhavedonehad itnotbeenamistake,wecanonlyconjecture.” “Well,whatamItodo,Mr.Holmes?” “I have a great fancy to see this lodger of yours, Mrs.Warren.”“Idon’tseehowthatistobemanaged,unlessyou breakinthedoor. IalwayshearhimunlockitasIgo downthestairafterIleavethetray.” “Hehastotakethetrayin. Surelywecouldcon- cealourselvesandseehimdoit.” Thelandladythoughtforamoment.</s>“Well,sir,there’sthebox-roomopposite. Icould arrange a looking-glass, maybe, and if you were be- hindthedoor—” “Excellent!”saidHolmes. “Whendoeshelunch?” “Aboutone,sir.” “ThenDr.WatsonandIwillcomeroundintime.</s>Forthepresent,Mrs.Warren,good-bye.” Athalf-pasttwelvewefoundourselvesuponthe steps of Mrs. Warren’s house—a high, thin, yellow- brick edifice in Great Orme Street, a narrow thor- oughfareatthenortheastsideoftheBritishMuseum.</s>Standing as it does near the corner of the street, it commands a view down Howe Street, with its ore pretentioushouses. Holmespointedwithachuckleto oneofthese,arowofresidentialflats,whichprojected sothattheycouldnotfailtocatchtheeye.</s>“See, Watson!” said he. “‘High red house with stone facings.’ There is the signal station all right.</s>Weknowtheplace,andweknowthecode;sosurely our task should be simple. There’s a ‘to let’ card in that window. It is evidently an empty flat to which theconfederatehasaccess. Well,Mrs.Warren,what now?” “Ihaveitallreadyforyou. Ifyouwillbothcome upandleaveyourbootsbelowonthelanding,I’llput youtherenow.” It was an excellent hiding-place which she had arranged. The mirror was so placed that, seated in thedark,wecouldveryplainlyseethedooropposite.</s>We had hardly settled down in it, and Mrs. Warren leftus,whenadistanttinkleannouncedthatourmys- teriousneighbourhadrung. Presentlythelandlady appeared with the tray, laid it down upon a chair beside the closed door, and then, treading heavily, departed. Crouchingtogetherintheangleofthedoor, we kept our eyes fixed upon the mirror. Suddenly, asthelandlady’sfootstepsdiedaway,therewasthe creakofaturningkey,thehandlerevolved,andtwo thin hands darted out and lifted the tray form the chair. Aninstantlateritwashurriedlyreplaced,and Icaughtaglimpseofadark,beautiful,horrifiedface glaringatthenarrowopeningofthebox-room. Then thedoorcrashedto,thekeyturnedoncemore,andall wassilence. Holmestwitchedmysleeve,andtogether westoledownthestair.</s>“I will call again in the evening,” said he to the expectantlandlady. “Ithink,Watson,wecandiscuss thisbusinessbetterinourownquarters.” “My surmise, as you saw, proved to be correct,” said he, speaking from the depths of his easy-chair.</s>“Therehasbeenasubstitutionoflodgers. WhatIdid not foresee is that we should find a woman, and no ordinarywoman,Watson.” “Shesawus.” “Well, she saw something to alarm her. That is certain. Thegeneralsequenceofeventsisprettyclear, isitnot? AcoupleseekrefugeinLondonfromavery terribleandinstantdanger. Themeasureofthatdan- geristherigouroftheirprecautions. Theman,who has some work which he must do, desires to leave the woman in absolute safety while he does it. It is not an easy problem, but he solved it in an original fashion,andsoeffectivelythatherpresencewasnot even known to the landlady who supplies her with food. Theprintedmessages,asisnowevident,were to prevent her sex being discovered by her writing.</s>The man cannot come near the woman, or he will guidetheirenemiestoher. Sincehecannotcommu- nicate with her direct, he has recourse to the agony columnofapaper. Sofarallisclear.” “Butwhatisattherootofit?” “Ah, yes, Watson—severely practical, as usual! Whatisattherootofitall? Mrs.Warren’swhimsical problemenlargessomewhatandassumesamoresin- isteraspectasweproceed. Thismuchwecansay: that itisnoordinaryloveescapade. Yousawthewoman’s face at the sign of danger. We have heard, too, of theattackuponthelandlord,whichwasundoubtedly meantforthelodger. Thesealarms,andthedesperate need for secrecy, argue that the matter is one of life ordeath. TheattackuponMr.Warrenfurthershows thattheenemy,whoevertheyare,arethemselvesnot awareofthesubstitutionofthefemalelodgerforthe male. Itisverycuriousandcomplex,Watson.” “Whyshouldyougofurtherinit? Whathaveyou togainfromit?” “What, indeed? It is art for art’s sake, Watson.</s>I suppose when you doctored you found yourself studyingcaseswithoutthoughtofafee?” “Formyeducation,Holmes.” “Education never ends, Watson. It is a series of lessons with the greatest for the last. This is an in- structive case. There is neither money nor credit init,andyetonewouldwishtotidyitup. Whendusk comesweshouldfindourselvesonestageadvanced inourinvestigation.” When we returned to Mrs. Warren’s rooms, the gloomofaLondonwintereveninghadthickenedinto onegraycurtain,adeadmonotoneofcolour,broken onlybythesharpyellowsquaresofthewindowsand the blurred haloes of the gas-lamps. As we peered fromthedarkenedsitting-roomofthelodging-house, onemoredimlightglimmeredhighupthroughthe obscurity.</s>“Someoneismovinginthatroom,”saidHolmesin awhisper,hisgauntandeagerfacethrustforwardto thewindow-pane. “Yes,Icanseehisshadow. There heisagain! Hehasacandleinhishand. Nowheis peeringacross. Hewantstobesurethatsheisonthe lookout. Now he begins to flash. Take the message also, Watson, that we may check each other. A sin- gle flash—that is A, surely. Now, then. How many did you make it? Twenty. Do did In. That should mean T. AT—that’s intelligible enough. Another T.</s>Surelythisisthebeginningofasecondword. Now, then—TENTA.Deadstop. Thatcan’tbeall,Watson? ATTENTAgivesnosense. Norisitanybetterasthree wordsAT,TEN,TA,unlessT.A.areaperson’sinitials.</s>There it goes again! What’s that? ATTE—why, it is thesamemessageoveragain. Curious,Watson,very curious. Now he is off once more! AT—why he is repeatingitforthethirdtime. ATTENTAthreetimes! Howoftenwillherepeatit? No,thatseemstobethe finish. Hehaswithdrawnformthewindow. Whatdo youmakeofit,Watson?” “Aciphermessage,Holmes.” Mycompaniongaveasuddenchuckleofcompre- hension. “And not a very obscure cipher, Watson,” CHAP art P AswewalkedrapidlydownHoweStreetIglanced backatthebuildingwhichwehadleft. There,dimly outlined at the top window, I could see the shadow of a head, a woman’s head, gazing tensely, rigidly, outintothenight,waitingwithbreathlesssuspense said he. “Why, of course, it is Italian! The A means that it is addressed to a woman. ‘Beware! Beware! Beware!’ How’sthat,Watson? “Ibelieveyouhavehitit.” “Not a doubt of it. It is a very urgent message, thrice repeated to make it more so. But beware of what? Wait a bit, he is coming to the window once more.” Again we saw the dim silhouette of a crouching manandthewhiskofthesmallflameacrossthewin- dow as the signals were renewed. They came more rapidlythanbefore—sorapidthatitwashardtofol- lowthem.</s>“PERICOLO—pericolo—eh,what’sthat,Watson? ‘Danger,’ isn’t it? Yes, by Jove, it’s a danger signal.</s>Therehegoesagain! PERI.Halloa,whatonearth—” Thelighthadsuddenlygoneout,theglimmering square of window had disappeared, and the third floor formed a dark band round the lofty building, withitstiersofshiningcasements. Thatlastwarning cryhadbeensuddenlycutshort. How,andbywhom? Thesamethoughtoccurredontheinstanttousboth.</s>Holmes sprang up from where he crouched by the window.</s>“Thisisserious,Watson,”hecried. “Thereissome devilrygoingforward! Whyshouldsuchamessage stop in such a way? I should put Scotland Yard in touchwiththisbusiness—andyet,itistoopressing forustoleave.” “ShallIgoforthepolice?” “Wemustdefinethesituationalittlemoreclearly.</s>Itmaybearsomemoreinnocentinterpretation. Come, Watson, let us go across ourselves and see what we canmakeofit.” TER II.</s>wo T for the renewal of that interrupted message. At the doorwayoftheHoweStreetflatsaman,muffledina cravatandgreatcoat,wasleaningagainsttherailing.</s>Hestartedasthehall-lightfelluponourfaces.</s>“Holmes!”hecried.“Why,Gregson!”saidmycompanionasheshook hands with the Scotland Yard detective. “Journeys endwithlovers’meetings. Whatbringsyouhere?” “Thesamereasonsthatbringyou,Iexpect,”said Gregson. “HowyougotontoitIcan’timagine.” “Different threads, but leading up to the same tangle. I’vebeentakingthesignals.” “Signals?” “Yes, from that window. They broke off in the middle. Wecameovertoseethereason. Butsinceit issafeinyourhandsIseenoobjectincontinuingthis business.” “Wait a bit!” cried Gregson eagerly. “I’ll do you thisjustice,Mr.Holmes,thatIwasneverinacaseyet thatIdidn’tfeelstrongerforhavingyouonmyside.</s>There’s only the one exit to these flats, so we have himsafe.” “Whoishe?” “Well, well, we score over you for once, Mr.</s>Holmes. Youmustgiveusbestthistime.”Hestruck his stick sharply upon the ground, on which a cab- man, his whip in his hand, sauntered over from a four-wheelerwhichstoodonthefarsideofthestreet.</s>“May I introduce you to Mr. Sherlock Holmes?” he saidtothecabman. “ThisisMr.Leverton,ofPinker- ton’sAmericanAgency.” “TheherooftheLongIslandcavemystery?”said Holmes. “Sir,Iampleasedtomeetyou.” The American, a quiet, businesslike young man, with a clean-shaven, hatchet face, flushed up at the wordsofcommendation. “Iamonthetrailofmylife now,Mr.Holmes,”saidhe. “IfIcangetGorgiano—” “What! GorgianooftheRedCircle?” “Oh,hehasaEuropeanfame,hashe? Well,we’ve learned all about him in America. We know he is at thebottomoffiftymurders,andyetwehavenothing positivewecantakehimon. Itrackedhimoverfrom New York, and I’ve been close to him for a week in London,waitingsomeexcusetogetmyhandonhis collar. Mr. Gregson and I ran him to ground in that bigtenementhouse,andthere’sonlyonedoor,sohe can’t slip us. There’s three folk come out since he wentin,butI’llswearhewasn’toneofthem.” “Mr. Holmes talks of signals,” said Gregson. “I expect,asusual,heknowsagooddealthatwedon’t.” InafewclearwordsHolmesexplainedthesitua- tion as it had appeared to us. The American struck hishandstogetherwithvexation.</s>“He’sontous!”hecried.</s>“Whydoyouthinkso?” “Well,itfiguresoutthatway,doesitnot? Herehe is,sendingoutmessagestoanaccomplice—thereare severalofhisganginLondon. Thensuddenly,justas byyourownaccounthewastellingthemthatthere was danger, he broke short off. What could it mean exceptthatfromthewindowhehadsuddenlyeither caughtsightofusinthestreet,orinsomewaycome tounderstandhowclosethedangerwas,andthathe must act right away if he was to avoid it? What do yousuggest,Mr.Holmes?” “Thatwegoupatonceandseeforourselves.” “Butwehavenowarrantforhisarrest.” “Heisinunoccupiedpremisesundersuspicious circumstances,”saidGregson. “Thatisgoodenough forthemoment. Whenwehavehimbytheheelswe can see if New York can’t help us to keep him. I’ll taketheresponsibilityofarrestinghimnow.” Ourofficialdetectivesmayblunderinthematter ofintelligence,butneverinthatofcourage. Gregson climbed the stair to arrest this desperate murderer withthesameabsolutelyquietandbusinesslikebear- ingwithwhichhewouldhaveascendedtheofficial staircase of Scotland Yard. The Pinkerton man had tried to push past him, but Gregson had firmly el- bowedhimback. Londondangersweretheprivilege oftheLondonforce.</s>The door of the left-hand flat upon the third landing was standing ajar. Gregson pushed it open.</s>Withinallwasabsolutesilenceanddarkness. Istruck a match and lit the detective’s lantern. As I did so, andastheflickersteadiedintoaflame,weallgavea gaspofsurprise. Onthedealboardsofthecarpetless floor there was outlined a fresh track of blood. The redsteps pointedtowards usandled awayfrom an inner room, the doorof which was closed. Gregson flungitopenandheldhislightfullblazeinfrontof him,whileweallpeeredeagerlyoverhisshoulders.</s>Inthemiddleoftheflooroftheemptyroomwas huddled the figure of an enormous man, his clean- shaven,swarthyfacegrotesquelyhorribleinitscontor- tionandhisheadencircledbyaghastlycrimsonhalo ofblood,lyinginabroadwetcircleuponthewhite woodwork. His knees were drawn up, his hands thrownoutinagony,andfromthecentreofhisbroad, brown,upturnedthroatthereprojectedthewhitehaft ofaknifedrivenblade-deepintohisbody. Giantashe was,themanmusthavegonedownlikeapole-axed ox before that terrific blow. Beside his right hand a mostformidablehorn-handled,two-edgeddaggerlay uponthefloor,andnearitablackkidglove.“By George! it’s Black Gorgiano himself!” cried theAmericandetective. “Someonehasgotaheadof usthistime.” “Hereisthecandleinthewindow,Mr.Holmes,” saidGregson. “Why,whateverareyoudoing?” Holmes had stepped across, had lit the candle, andwaspassingitbackwardandforwardacrossthe window-panes. Then he peered into the darkness, blewthecandleout,andthrewitonthefloor.</s>“I rather think that will be helpful,” said he. He cameoverandstoodindeepthoughtwhilethetwo professionalswereexaminingthebody. “Yousaythat three people came out form the flat while you were waitingdownstairs,”saidheatlast. “Didyouobserve themclosely?” “Yes,Idid.” “Was there a fellow about thirty, black-bearded, dark,ofmiddlesize?” “Yes;hewasthelasttopassme.” “That is your man, I fancy. I can give you his description, and we have a very excellent outline of hisfootmark. Thatshouldbeenoughforyou.” “Not much, Mr. Holmes, among the millions of London.” “Perhaps not. That is why I thought it best to summonthisladytoyouraid.” Weallturnedroundatthewords. There,framed inthedoorway,wasatallandbeautifulwoman—the mysterious lodger of Bloomsbury. Slowly she ad- vanced,herfacepaleanddrawnwithafrightfulap- prehension, her eyes fixed and staring, her terrified gazeriveteduponthedarkfigureonthefloor.</s>“You have killed him!” she muttered. “Oh, Dio mio, you have killed him!” Then I heard a sudden sharp intake of her breath, and she sprang into the airwithacryofjoy. Roundandroundtheroomshe danced,herhandsclapping,herdarkeyesgleaming withdelightedwonder,andathousandprettyItalian exclamations pouring from her lips. It was terrible andamazingtoseesuchawomansoconvulsedwith joyatsuchasight. Suddenlyshestoppedandgazed atusallwithaquestioningstare.</s>“Butyou! Youarepolice, areyounot? Youhave killedGiuseppeGorgiano. Isitnotso?” “Wearepolice,madam.” Shelookedroundintotheshadowsoftheroom.</s>“Butwhere,then,isGennaro?”sheasked. “Heis myhusband,GennaroLucca. IamEmiliaLucca,and wearebothfromNewYork. WhereisGennaro? He calledmethismomentfromthiswindow,andIran withallmyspeed.” “ItwasIwhocalled,”saidHolmes.</s>“You! Howcouldyoucall?” “Yourcipherwasnotdifficult,madam. Yourpres- ence here was desirable. I knew that I had only to flash‘Vieni’andyouwouldsurelycome.” ThebeautifulItalianlookedwithaweatmycom- panion.</s>“Idonotunderstandhowyouknowthesethings,” she said. “Giuseppe Gorgiano—how did he—” She paused,andthensuddenlyherfacelitupwithpride and delight. “Now I see it! My Gennaro! My splen- did, beautiful Gennaro, who has guarded me safe fromallharm,hedidit,withhisownstronghandhe killedthemonster! Oh,Gennaro,howwonderfulyou are! What woman could every be worthy of such a man?” “Well,Mrs.Lucca,”saidtheprosaicGregson,lay- ing his hand upon the lady’s sleeve with as little sentiment as if she were a Notting Hill hooligan, “I am not very clear yet who you are or what you are; butyou’vesaidenoughtomakeitveryclearthatwe shallwantyouattheYard.” “Onemoment,Gregson,”saidHolmes. “Irather fancythatthisladymaybeasanxioustogiveusin- formation as we can be to get it. You understand, madam,thatyourhusbandwillbearrestedandtried for the death of the man who lies before us? What you say may be used in evidence. But if you think thathehasactedfrommotiveswhicharenotcriminal, andwhichhewouldwishtohaveknown, thenyou cannotservehimbetterthanbytellingusthewhole story.” “NowthatGorgianoisdeadwefearnothing,”said the lady. “He was a devil and a monster, and there canbenojudgeintheworldwhowouldpunishmy husbandforhavingkilledhim.” “In that case,” said Holmes, “my suggestion is thatwelockthisdoor,leavethingsaswefoundthem, gowiththisladytoherroom,andformouropinion after we have heard what it is that she has to say to us.” Half an hour later we were seated, all four, in thesmallsitting-roomofSignoraLucca,listeningto herremarkablenarrativeofthosesinisterevents,the ending of which we had chanced to witness. She spoke in rapid and fluent but very unconventional English,which,forthesakeofclearness,Iwillmake grammatical.</s>“IwasborninPosilippo,nearNaples,”saidshe, “andwasthedaughterofAugustoBarelli,whowasthechieflawyerandoncethedeputyofthatpart. Gen- narowasinmyfather’semployment,andIcameto lovehim,asanywomanmust. Hehadneithermoney nor position—nothing but his beauty and strength andenergy—somyfatherforbadethematch. Wefled together, were married at Bari, and sold my jewels togainthemoneywhichwouldtakeustoAmerica.</s>This was four years ago, and we have been in New Yorkeversince.</s>“Fortune was very good to us at first. Gennaro wasabletodoaservicetoanItaliangentleman—he savedhimfromsomeruffiansintheplacecalledthe Bowery, and so made a powerful friend. His name was Tito Castalotte, and he was the senior partner of the great firm of Castalotte and Zamba, who are thechieffruitimportersofNewYork. SignorZamba is an invalid, and our new friend Castalotte has all power within the firm, which employs more than three hundred men. He took my husband into his employment, made him head of a department, and showedhisgood-willtowardshimineveryway. Sig- nor Castalotte was a bachelor, and I believe that he feltasifGennarowashisson,andbothmyhusband and I loved him as if he were our father. We had taken and furnished a little house in Brooklyn, and our whole future seemed assured when that black cloud appeared which was soon to overspread our sky.</s>“One night, when Gennaro returned from his work,hebroughtafellow-countrymanbackwithhim.</s>HisnamewasGorgiano,andhehadcomealsofrom Posilippo. Hewasahugeman,asyoucantestify,for you have looked upon his corpse. Not only was his body that of a giant but everything about him was grotesque,gigantic,andterrifying. Hisvoicewaslike thunderinourlittlehouse. Therewasscarceroomfor thewhirlofhisgreatarmsashetalked. Histhoughts, hisemotions,hispassions,allwereexaggeratedand monstrous. He talked, or rather roared, with such energy that others could but sit and listen, cowed withthemightystreamofwords. Hiseyesblazedat youandheldyouathismercy. Hewasaterribleand wonderfulman. IthankGodthatheisdead! “He came again and again. Yet I was aware that GennarowasnomorehappythanIwasinhispres- ence. My poor husband would sit pale and listless, listeningtotheendlessravinguponpoliticsandupon social questions which made up or visitor’s conver- sation. Gennaro said nothing, but I, who knew him sowell,couldreadinhisfacesomeemotionwhichI hadneverseentherebefore. AtfirstIthoughtthatit was dislike. And then, gradually, I understood that itwasmorethandislike. Itwasfear—adeep,secret, shrinkingfear. Thatnight—thenightthatIreadhis terror—IputmyarmsroundhimandIimploredhim byhisloveformeandbyallthathehelddeartohold nothingfromme,andtotellmewhythishugeman overshadowedhimso.</s>“Hetoldme,andmyownheartgrewcoldasice asIlistened. MypoorGennaro,inhiswildandfiery days,whenalltheworldseemedagainsthimandhis mind was driven half mad by the injustices of life, hadjoinedaNeapolitansociety,theRedCircle,which wasalliedtotheoldCarbonari. Theoathsandsecrets of this brotherhood were frightful, but once within its rule no escape was possible. When we had fled to America Gennaro thought that he had cast it all offforever. Whatwashishorroroneeveningtomeet inthestreetstheverymanwhohadinitiatedhimin Naples, the giant Gorgiano, a man who had earned thenameof‘Death’in thesouthofItaly, forhewas red to the elbow in murder! He had come to New York to avoid the Italian police, and he had already planted a branch of this dreadful society in his new home. All this Gennaro told me and showed me a summonswhichhehadreceivedthatveryday,aRed Circle drawn upon the head of it telling him that a lodgewouldbehelduponacertaindate,andthathis presenceatitwasrequiredandordered.</s>“Thatwasbadenough,butworsewastocome. I hadnoticedforsometimethatwhenGorgianocame tous,asheconstantlydid,intheevening,hespoke much to me; and even when his words were to my husband those terrible, glaring, wild-beast eyes of his were always turned upon me. One night his se- cretcameout. Ihadawakenedwhathecalled‘love’ withinhim—theloveofabrute—asavage. Gennaro hadnotyetreturnedwhenhecame. Hepushedhis wayin,seizedmeinhismightyarms,huggedmein hisbear’sembrace,coveredmewithkisses,andim- ploredmetocomeawaywithhim. Iwasstruggling andscreamingwhenGennaroenteredandattacked him. HestruckGennarosenselessandfledfromthe house which he was never more to enter. It was a deadlyenemythatwemadethatnight.</s>“A few days later came the meeting. Gennaro returnedfromitwithafacewhichtoldmethatsome- thing dreadful had occurred. It was worse than we could have imagined possible. The funds of the so- ciety were raised by blackmailing rich Italians and threatening them with violence should they refuse the money. It seems that Castalotte, our dear friend andbenefactor,hadbeenapproached. Hehadrefused toyieldtothreats,andhehadhandedthenoticestothepolice. Itwasresolvednowthatsuchanexample shouldbemadeofthemaswouldpreventanyother victimfromrebelling. Atthemeetingitwasarranged thatheandhishouseshouldbeblownupwithdyna- mite. Therewasadrawingoflotsastowhoshould carryoutthedeed. Gennarosawourenemy’scruel facesmilingathimashedippedhishandinthebag.</s>No doubt it had been prearranged in some fashion, for it was the fatal disc with the Red Circle upon it, the mandate for murder, which lay upon his palm.</s>He was to kill his best friend, or he was to expose himself and me to the vengeance of his comrades.</s>It was part of their fiendish system to punish those whomtheyfearedorhatedbyinjuringnotonlytheir ownpersonsbutthosewhomtheyloved,anditwas the knowledge of this which hung as a terror over mypoorGennaro’sheadanddrovehimnearlycrazy withapprehension.</s>“All that night we sat together, our arms round eachother, eachstrengtheningeachforthetroubles that lay before us. The very next evening had been fixedfortheattempt. BymiddaymyhusbandandI were on our way to London, but not before he had givenourbenefactorfullwarningofthisdanger,and hadalsoleftsuchinformationforthepoliceaswould safeguardhislifeforthefuture.</s>“The rest, gentlemen, you know for yourselves.</s>We were sure that our enemies would be behind us likeourownshadows. Gorgianohadhisprivaterea- sons for vengeance, but in any case we knew how ruthless, cunning, and untiring he could be. Both Italy and America are full of stories of his dreadful powers. If ever they were exerted it would be now.</s>My darling made use of the few clear days which our start had given us in arranging for a refuge for me in such a fashion that no possible danger could reachme. Forhisownpart,hewishedtobefreethat hemightcommunicatebothwiththeAmericanand withtheItalianpolice. Idonotmyselfknowwhere helived,orhow. AllthatIlearnedwasthroughthe columnsofanewspaper. ButonceasIlookedthrough my window, I saw two Italians watching the house, and I understood that in some way Gorgiano had foundourretreat. FinallyGennarotoldme,through thepaper,thathewouldsignaltomefromacertain window,butwhenthesignalscametheywerenoth- ingbutwarnings,whichweresuddenlyinterrupted.</s>It is very clear to me now that he knew Gorgiano to be close upon him, and that, thank God! he was ready for him when he came. And now, gentleman, I would ask you whether we have anything to fear fromthelaw,orwhetheranyjudgeuponearthwould condemnmyGennaroforwhathehasdone?” “Well,Mr.Gregson,”saidtheAmerican,looking acrossattheofficial,“Idon’tknowwhatyourBritish point of view may be, but I guess that in New York thislady’shusbandwillreceiveaprettygeneralvote ofthanks.” “Shewillhavetocomewithmeandseethechief,” Gregsonanswered. “Ifwhatshesaysiscorroborated, I do not think she or her husband has much to fear.</s>But what I can’t make head or tail of, Mr. Holmes, is how on earth you got yourself mixed up in the matter.” “Education, Gregson, education. Still seeking knowledge at the old university. Well, Watson, you haveonemorespecimenofthetragicandgrotesque to add to your collection. By the way, it is not eight o’clock,andaWagnernightatCoventGarden! Ifwe hurry,wemightbeintimeforthesecondact.”nthethirdweekofNovember,intheyear 1895,adenseyellowfogsettleddownupon London. From the Monday to the Thurs- I day I doubt whether it was ever possible from our windows in Baker Street to see the loom of the opposite houses. The first day Holmes had spent in cross-indexing his huge book of references.</s>The second and third had been patiently occupied upon a subject which he hand recently made his hobby—the music of the Middle Ages. But when, for the fourth time, after pushing back our chairs frombreakfastwesawthegreasy,heavybrownswirl still drifting past us and condensing in oily drops upon the window-panes, my comrade’s impatient andactivenaturecouldendurethisdrabexistenceno longer. Hepacedrestlesslyaboutoursitting-roomin afeverofsuppressedenergy,bitinghisnails,tapping thefurniture,andchafingagainstinaction.</s>“Nothing of interest in the paper, Watson?” he said.</s>Inwasawarethatbyanythingofinterest,Holmes meant anything of criminal interest. There was the news of a revolution, of a possible war, and of an impendingchangeofgovernment;butthesedidnot come within the horizon of my companion. I could seenothingrecordedintheshapeofcrimewhichwas not commonplace and futile. Holmes groaned and resumedhsrestlessmeanderings.</s>“The London criminal is certainly a dull fellow,” saidheinthequerulousvoiceofthesportsmanwhose gamehasfailedhim. “Lookoutthiswindow,Watson.</s>See how the figures loom up, are dimly seen, and thenblendoncemoreintothecloud-bank. Thethief or the murderer could roam London on such a day asthetigerdoesthejungle,unseenuntilhepounces, andthenevidentonlytohisvictim.” “There have,” said I, “been numerous petty thefts.” Holmessnortedhiscontempt.</s>“Thisgreatandsombrestageissetforsomething moreworthythanthat,”saidhe. “Itisfortunatefor thiscommunitythatIamnotacriminal.” “Itis,indeed!”saidIheartily.</s>“Suppose that I were Brooks or Woodhouse, or anyofthefiftymenwhohavegoodreasonfortaking my life, how long could I survive against my own pursuit? Asummons,abogusappointment,andall wouldbeover. Itiswelltheydon’thavedaysoffog intheLatincountries—thecountriesofassassination.</s>By Jove! here comes something at last to break our deadmonotony.” It was the maid with a telegram. Holmes tore it openandburstoutlaughing.</s>“Well, well! What next?” said he. “Brother My- croftiscominground.” “Whynot?”Iasked.</s>“Why not? It is as if you met a tram-car coming down a country lane. Mycroft has his rails and he runs on them. His Pall Mall lodgings, the Diogenes Club, Whitehall—that is his cycle. Once, and only once,hehasbeenhere. Whatupheavalcanpossibly havederailedhim?” “Doeshenotexplain?” Holmeshandedmehisbrother’stelegram.</s>MustseeyouoverCadogenWest. Coming atonce.</s>—Mycroft.</s>“CadogenWest? Ihaveheardthename.” “Itrecallsnothingtomymind. ButthatMycroft should break out in this erratic fashion! A planet mightaswellleaveitsorbit. Bytheway,doyouknow whatMycroftis?” Ihadsomevaguerecollectionofanexplanationat thetimeoftheAdventureoftheGreekInterpreter.</s>“Youtoldmethathehadsomesmallofficeunder theBritishgovernment.” Holmeschuckled.</s>“I did not know you quite so well in those days.</s>One has to be discreet when one talks of high mat- tersofstate. Youarerightinthinkingthatheunder the British government. You would also be right in asenseifyousaidthatoccasionallyheistheBritish government.” “MydearHolmes!” “I thought I might surprise you. Mycroft draws fourhundredandfiftypoundsayear,remainsasub- ordinate, has no ambitions of any kind, will receive neitherhonournortitle,butremainsthemostindis- pensablemaninthecountry.” “Buthow?” “Well,hispositionisunique. Hehasmadeitfor himself. There has never been anything like it be- fore, nor will be again. He has the tidiest and most orderly brain, with the greatest capacity for storing facts,ofanymanliving. Thesamegreatpowerswhich I have turned to the detection of crime he has used forthisparticularbusiness. Theconclusionsofevery department are passed to him, and he is the centralexchange,theclearinghouse,whichmakesoutthebal- ance. Allothermenarespecialists,buthisspecialism isomniscience. Wewillsupposethataministerneeds informationastoapointwhichinvolvestheNavy,In- dia,Canadaandthebimetallicquestion;hecouldget hisseparateadvicesfromvariousdepartmentsupon each, but only Mycroft can focus them all, and say offhandhoweachfactorwouldaffecttheother. They began by using him as a short-cut, a convenience; nowhehasmadehimselfanessential. Inthatgreat brain of his everything is pigeon-holed and can be handedoutinaninstant. Againandagainhisword has decided the national policy. He lives in it. He thinks of nothing else save when, as an intellectual exercise,heunbendsifIcalluponhimandaskhimto advisemeononeofmylittleproblems. ButJupiteris descendingto-day. Whatonearthcanitmean? Who isCadoganWest,andwhatishetoMycroft?” “Ihaveit,”Icried,andplungedamongthelitter of papers upon the sofa. “Yes, yes, here he is, sure enough! CadogenWestwastheyoungmanwhowas found dead on the Underground on Tuesday morn- ing.” Holmessatupatattention,hispipehalfwaytohis lips.</s>“This must be serious, Watson. A death which has caused my brother to alter his habits can be no ordinary one. What in the world can he have to do with it? The case was featureless as I remember it.</s>Theyoungmanhadapparentlyfallenoutofthetrain andkilledhimself. Hehadnotbeenrobbed,andthere wasnoparticularreasontosuspectviolence. Isthat notso?” “Therehasbeenaninquest,”saidI,“andagood many fresh facts have come out. Looked at more closely, I should certainly say that it was a curious case.” “Judging by its effect upon my brother, I should thinkitmustbeamostextraordinaryone.”Hesnug- gleddowninhisarmchair. “Now,Watson,letushave thefacts.” “Theman’snamewasArthurCadoganWest. He wastwenty-sevenyearsofage,unmarried,andaclerk atWoolwichArsenal.” “Government employ. Behold the link with BrotherMycroft!” “He left Woolwich suddenly on Monday night.</s>Was last seen by his fiancee, Miss Violet Westbury, whom he left abruptly in the fog about 7.30 that evening. There was no quarrel between them and shecangivenomotiveforhisaction. Thenextthing heardofhimwaswhenhisdeadbodywasdiscovered byaplate-layernamedMason,justoutsideAldgate StationontheUndergroundsysteminLondon.” “When?” “ThebodywasfoundatsixonTuesdaymorning.</s>It was lying wide of the metals upon the left hand ofthetrackasonegoeseastward,atapointcloseto the station, where the line emerges from the tunnel in which it runs. The head was badly crushed—an injury which might well have been caused by a fall fromthetrain. Thebodycouldonlyhavecomeonthe lineinthatway. Haditbeencarrieddownfromany neighbouringstreet,itmusthavepassedthestation barriers, where a collector is always standing. This pointseemsabsolutelycertain.” “Verygood. Thecaseisdefiniteenough. Theman, dead or alive, either fell or was precipitated from a train. Somuchiscleartome. Continue.” “Thetrainswhichtraversethelinesofrailbeside whichthebodywasfoundarethosewhichrunfrom west to east, some being purely Metropolitan, and some from Willesden and outlying junctions. It can be stated for certain that this young man, when he methisdeath,wastravellinginthisdirectionatsome late hour of the night, but at what point he entered thetrainitisimpossibletostate.” “Histicket,ofcourse,wouldshowthat.” “Therewasnoticketinhispockets.” “No ticket! Dear me, Watson, this is really very singular. Accordingtomyexperienceitisnotpossible toreachtheplatformofaMetropolitantrainwithout exhibitingone’sticket. Presumably,then,theyoung manhadone. Wasittakenfromhiminordertocon- ceal the station from which he came? It is possible.</s>Ordidhedropitinthecarriage? Thatisalsopossible.</s>Butthepointisofcuriousinterest. Iunderstandthat therewasnosignofrobbery?” “Apparentlynot. Thereisalisthereofhisposses- sions. His purse contained two pounds fifteen. He hadalsoacheck-bookontheWoolwichbranchofthe Capital and Counties Bank. Through this his iden- titywasestablished. Therewerealsotwodress-circle ticketsfortheWoolwichTheatre,datedforthatvery evening. Alsoasmallpacketoftechnicalpapers.” Holmesgaveanexclamationofsatisfaction.</s>“There we have it at last, Watson! British government—Woolwich. Arsenal—technical pa- pers—Brother Mycroft, the chain is complete. But here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to speak for himself.”A moment later the tall and portly form of My- croft Holmes was ushered into the room. Heavily builtandmassive,therewasasuggestionofuncouth physicalinertiainthefigure,butabovethisunwieldy frame there was perched a head so masterful in its brow,soalertinitssteel-gray,deep-seteyes,sofirm initslips,andsosubtleinitsplayofexpression,that after the first glance one forgot the gross body and rememberedonlythedominantmind.</s>AthisheelscameouroldfriendLestrade,ofScot- land Yard—thin and austere. The gravity of both their faces foretold some weighty quest. The detec- tive shook hands without a word. Mycroft Holmes struggled out of his overcoat and subsided into an armchair.</s>“Amostannoyingbusiness,Sherlock,”saidhe. “I extremelydislikealteringmyhabits,butthepowers thatbewouldtakenodenial. Inthepresentstateof SiamitismostawkwardthatIshouldbeawayfrom theoffice. Butitisarealcrisis. Ihaveneverseenthe Prime Minister so upset. As to the Admiralty—it is buzzinglikeanoverturnedbee-hive. Haveyouread upthecase?” “We have just done so. What were the technical papers?” “Ah,there’sthepoint! Fortunately,ithasnotcome out. Thepresswouldbefuriousifitdid. Thepapers whichthiswretchedyouthhadinhispocketwerethe plansoftheBruce-Partingtonsubmarine.” Mycroft Holmes spoke with a solemnity which showed his sense of the importance of the subject.</s>HisbrotherandIsatexpectant.</s>“Surelyyouhaveheardofit? Ithoughteveryone hadheardofit.” “Onlyasaname.” “Its importance can hardly be exaggerated. It has been the most jealously guarded of all govern- ment secrets. You may take it from me that naval warfare becomes impossible within the radius of a Bruce-Partington’s operation. Two years ago a very largesumwassmuggledthroughtheEstimatesand wasexpendedinacquiringamonopolyoftheinven- tion. Every effort has been made to keep the secret.</s>Theplans,whichareexceedinglyintricate,compris- ing some thirty separate patents, each essential to the working of the whole, are kept in an elaborate safeinaconfidentialofficeadjoiningthearsenal,with burglar-proofdoorsandwindows. Undernoconceiv- able circumstances were the plans to be taken from theoffice. IfthechiefconstructoroftheNavydesired toconsultthem,evenhewasforcedtogototheWool- wich office for the purpose. And yet here we find theminthepocketofadeadjuniorclerkintheheart ofLondon. Fromanofficialpointofviewit’ssimply awful.” “Butyouhaverecoveredthem?” “No,Sherlock,no! That’sthepinch. Wehavenot.</s>Ten papers were taken from Woolwich. There were seveninthepocketofCadoganWest. Thethreemost essentialaregone—stolen,vanished. Youmustdrop everything, Sherlock. Never mind your usual petty puzzles of the police-court. It’s a vital international problem that you have to solve. Why did Cadogan Westtakethepapers,wherearethemissingones,how did he die, how came his body where it was found, how can the evil be set right? Find an answer to all thesequestions,andyouwillhavedonegoodservice foryourcountry.” “Whydoyounotsolveityourself,Mycroft? You canseeasfarasI.” “Possibly,Sherlock. Butitisaquestionofgetting details. Givemeyourdetails,andfromanarmchairI willreturnyouanexcellentexpertopinion. Buttorun hereandrunthere,tocross-questionrailwayguards, and lie on my face with a lens to my eye—it is not myme´tier. No,youaretheonemanwhocanclearthe matter up. If you have a fancy to see your name in thenexthonourslist—” Myfriendsmiledandshookhishead.</s>“I play the game for the game’s own sake,” said he. “Buttheproblemcertainlypresentssomepoints ofinterest,andIshallbeverypleasedtolookintoit.</s>Somemorefacts,please.” “Ihavejotteddownthemoreessentialonesupon this sheet of paper, together with a few addresses which you will find of service. The actual official guardian of the papers is the famous government expert,SirJamesWalter,whosedecorationsandsub- titles fill two lines of a book of reference. He has growngrayintheservice,isagentleman,afavoured guest in the most exalted houses, and, above all, a man whose patriotism is beyond suspicion. He is one of two who have a key of the safe. I may add thatthepaperswereundoubtedlyintheofficeduring workinghoursonMonday,andthatSirJamesleftfor Londonaboutthreeo’clocktakinghiskeywithhim.</s>He was at the house of Admiral Sinclair at Barclay Square during the whole of the evening when this incidentoccurred.” “Hasthefactbeenverified?” “Yes;hisbrother,ColonelValentineWalter,hastes- tifiedtohisdeparturefromWoolwich,andAdmiralSinclair to his arrival in London; so Sir James is no longeradirectfactorintheproblem.” “Whowastheothermanwithakey?” “The senior clerk and draughtsman, Mr. Sidney Johnson. Heisamanofforty,married,withfivechil- dren. Heisasilent,moroseman,buthehas,onthe whole, an excellent record in the public service. He isunpopularwithhiscolleagues,butahardworker.</s>Accordingtohisownaccount,corroboratedonlyby the word of his wife, he was at home the whole of Monday evening after office hours, and his key has neverleftthewatch-chainuponwhichithangs.” “TellusaboutCadoganWest.” “He has been ten years in the service and has donegoodwork. Hehasthereputationofbeinghot- headed and imperious, but a straight, honest man.</s>We have nothing against him. He was next Sidney Johnson in the office. His duties brought him into daily, personal contact with the plans. No one else hadthehandlingofthem.” “Wholockeduptheplansthatnight?” “Mr.SidneyJohnson,theseniorclerk.” “Well, it is surely perfectly clear who took them away. Theyareactuallyfounduponthepersonofthis juniorclerk,CadoganWest. Thatseemsfinal,doesit not?” “Itdoes,Sherlock,andyetitleavessomuchunex- plained. Inthefirstplace,whydidhetakethem?” “Ipresumetheywereofvalue?” “He could have got several thousands for them veryeasily.” “Canyousuggestanypossiblemotivefortaking thepaperstoLondonexcepttosellthem?” “No,Icannot.” “Thenwemusttakethatasourworkinghypothe- sis. YoungWesttookthepapers. Nowthiscouldonly bedonebyhavingafalsekey—” “Severalfalsekeys. Hehadtoopenthebuilding andtheroom.” “Hehad,then,severalfalsekeys. Hetookthepa- perstoLondontosellthesecret,intending,nodoubt, to have the plans themselves back in the safe next morningbeforetheyweremissed. WhileinLondon onthistreasonablemissionhemethisend.” “How?” “We will suppose that he was travelling back to Woolwichwhenhewaskilledandthrownoutofthe compartment.” “Aldgate,wherethebodywasfound,isconsider- ablypastthestationLondonBridge,whichwouldbe hisroutetoWoolwich.” “Many circumstances could be imagined under whichhewouldpassLondonBridge. Therewassome- oneinthecarriage,forexample,withwhomhewas havinganabsorbinginterview. Thisinterviewledto a violent scene in which he lost his life. Possibly he triedtoleavethecarriage,felloutontheline,andso methisend. Theotherclosedthedoor. Therewasa thickfog,andnothingcouldbeseen.” “No better explanation can be given with our presentknowledge;andyetconsider,Sherlock,how much you leave untouched. We will suppose, for argument’ssake,thatyoungCadoganWesthaddeter- minedtoconveythesepaperstoLondon. Hewould naturallyhavemadeanappointmentwiththeforeign agent and kept his evening clear. Instead of that he took two tickets for the theatre, escorted his fiancee halfwaythere,andthensuddenlydisappeared.” “A blind,” said Lestrade, who had sat listening withsomeimpatiencetotheconversation.</s>“A very singular one. That is objection No. 1.</s>Objection No. 2: We will suppose that he reaches London and sees the foreign agent. He must bring back the papers before morning or the loss will be discovered. He took away ten. Only seven were in hispocket. Whathadbecomeoftheotherthree? He certainly would not leave them of his own free will.</s>Then,again,whereisthepriceofhistreason? Once wouldhaveexpectedtofindalargesumofmoneyin hispocket.” “Itseemstomeperfectlyclear,”saidLestrade. “I havenodoubtatallastowhatoccurred. Hetookthe papers to sell them. He saw the agent. They could not agree as to price. He started home again, but theagentwentwithhim. Inthetraintheagentmur- deredhim,tookthemoreessentialpapers,andthrew his body from the carriage. That would account for everything,woulditnot?” “Whyhadhenoticket?” “Theticketwouldhaveshownwhichstationwas nearesttheagent’shouse. Thereforehetookitfrom themurderedman’spocket.” “Good,Lestrade,verygood,”saidHolmes. “Your theoryholdstogether. Butifthisistrue,thenthecase isatanend. Ontheonehand,thetraitorisdead. On theother,theplansoftheBruce-Partingtonsubmarine are presumably already on the Continent. What is thereforustodo?” “Toact,Sherlock—toact!”criedMycroft,spring- ing to his feet. “All my instincts are against thisexplanation. Use your powers! Go to the scene of thecrime! Seethepeopleconcerned! Leavenostone unturned! In all your career you have never had so greatachanceofservingyourcountry.” “Well, well!” said Holmes, shrugging his shoul- ders. “Come,Watson! Andyou,Lestrade,couldyou favour us with your company for an hour or two? WewillbeginourinvestigationbyavisittoAldgate Station. Good-bye, Mycroft. I shall let you have a reportbeforeevening,butIwarnyouinadvancethat youhavelittletoexpect.” An hour later Holmes, Lestrade and I stood upontheUndergroundrailroadatthepointwhereit emergesfromthetunnelimmediatelybeforeAldgate Station. Acourteousred-facedoldgentlemanrepre- sentedtherailwaycompany.</s>“Thisiswheretheyoungman’sbodylay,”saidhe, indicatingaspotaboutthreefeetfromthemetals. “It couldnothavefallenfromabove,forthese,asyousee, areallblankwalls. Therefore,itcouldonlyhavecome fromatrain,andthattrain,sofaraswecantraceit, musthavepassedaboutmidnightonMonday.” “Have the carriages been examined for any sign ofviolence?” “Therearenosuchsigns,andnotickethasbeen found.” “Norecordofadoorbeingfoundopen?” “None.” “Wehavehadsomefreshevidencethismorning,” saidLestrade. “ApassengerwhopassedAldgatein anordinaryMetropolitantrainabout11.40onMon- daynightdeclaresthatheheardaheavythud,asofa bodystrikingtheline,justbeforethetrainreachedthe station. Therewasdensefog,however,andnothing could be seen. He made no report of it at the time.</s>Why,whateveristhematterwithMr.Holmes?” My friend was standing with an expression of strainedintensityuponhisface,staringattherailway metalswheretheycurvedoutofthetunnel. Aldgate isajunction,andtherewasanetworkofpoints. On thesehiseager,questioningeyeswerefixed,andIsaw onhiskeen,alertfacethattighteningofthelips,that quiverofthenostrils,andconcentrationoftheheavy, tuftedbrowswhichIknewsowell.</s>“Points,”hemuttered;“thepoints.” “Whatofit? Whatdoyoumean?” “Isupposetherearenogreatnumberofpointson asystemsuchasthis?” “No;theyareveryfew.” “Andacurve,too. Points,andacurve. ByJove! if itwereonlyso.” “Whatisit,Mr.Holmes? Haveyouaclue?” “An idea—an indication, no more. But the case certainlygrowsininterest. Unique,perfectlyunique, and yet why not? I do not see any indications of bleedingontheline.” “Therewerehardlyany.” “But I understand that there was a considerable wound.” “The bone was crushed, but there was no great externalinjury.” “Andyetonewouldhaveexpectedsomebleeding.</s>Woulditbepossibleformetoinspectthetrainwhich containedthepassengerwhoheardthethudofafall inthefog?” “Ifearnot,Mr.Holmes. Thetrainhasbeenbroken upbeforenow,andthecarriagesredistributed.” “I can assure you, Mr. Holmes,” said Lestrade, “that every carriage has been carefully examined. I sawtoitmyself.” Itwasoneofmyfriend’smostobviousweaknesses thathewasimpatientwithlessalertintelligencesthan hisown.</s>“Very likely,” said he, turning away. “As it hap- pens,itwasnotthecarriageswhichIdesiredtoexam- ine. Watson,wehavedoneallwecanhere. Weneed nottroubleyouanyfurther,Mr.Lestrade. Ithinkour investigationsmustnowcarryustoWoolwich.” AtLondonBridge,Holmeswroteatelegramtohis brother,whichhehandedtomebeforedispatchingit.</s>Itranthus: Seesomelightinthedarkness,butitmay possibly flicker out. Meanwhile, please send by messenger, to await return at BakerStreet,acompletelistofallforeign spiesorinternationalagentsknowntobe inEngland,withfulladdress.</s>—Sherlock.“Thatshouldbehelpful,Watson,”heremarkedas wetookourseatsintheWoolwichtrain. “Wecertainly oweBrotherMycroftadebtforhavingintroducedus towhatpromisestobeareallyveryremarkablecase.” Hiseagerfacestillworethatexpressionofintense andhigh-strungenergy,whichshowedmethatsome novelandsuggestivecircumstancehadopenedupa stimulating line of thought. See the foxhound with hanging ears and drooping tail as it lolls about the kennels,andcompareitwiththesamehoundas,with gleamingeyesandstrainingmuscles,itrunsupona breast-high scent—such was the change in Holmes since the morning. He was a different man from thelimpandloungingfigureinthemouse-coloured dressing-gownwhohadprowledsorestlesslyonlya fewhoursbeforeroundthefog-girtroom.</s>“There is material here. There is scope,” said he.</s>“Iamdullindeednottohaveunderstooditspossibili- ties.” “Evennowtheyaredarktome.” “The end is dark to me also, but I have hold of one idea which may lead us far. The man met his death elsewhere, and his body was on the roof of a carriage.” “Ontheroof!” “Remarkable,isitnot? Butconsiderthefacts. Isit acoincidencethatitisfoundattheverypointwhere thetrainpitchesandswaysasitcomesroundonthe points? Isnotthattheplacewhereanobjectuponthe roofmightbeexpectedtofalloff? Thepointswould affect no object inside the train. Either the body fell from the roof, or a very curious coincidence has oc- curred. But now consider the question of the blood.</s>Of course, there was no bleeding on the line if the bodyhad bledelsewhere. Eachfactis suggestive in itself. Togethertheyhaveacumulativeforce.” “Andtheticket,too!”Icried.</s>“Exactly. We could not explain the absence of a ticket. This would explain it. Everything fits to- gether.” “Butsupposeitwereso,wearestillasfarasever fromunravellingthemysteryofhisdeath. Indeed,it becomesnotsimplerbutstranger.” “Perhaps,”saidHolmes,thoughtfully,“perhaps.” He relapsed into a silent reverie, which lasted until the slow train drew up at last in Woolwich Station.</s>TherehecalledacabanddrewMycroft’spaperfrom hispocket.</s>“Wehavequitealittleroundofafternooncallsto make,”saidhe. “IthinkthatSirJamesWalterclaims ourfirstattention.” The house of the famous official was a fine villa withgreenlawnsstretchingdowntotheThames. As wereacheditthefogwaslifting, andathin, watery sunshine was breaking through. A butler answered ourring.</s>“Sir James, sir!” said he with solemn face. “Sir Jamesdiedthismorning.” “Good heavens!” cried Holmes in amazement.</s>“Howdidhedie?” “Perhaps you would care to step in, sir, and see hisbrother,ColonelValentine?” “Yes,wehadbestdoso.” We were ushered into a dim-lit drawing-room, whereaninstantlaterwewerejoinedbyaverytall, handsome, light-beared man of fifty, the younger brother of the dead scientist. His wild eyes, stained cheeks, and unkempt hair all spoke of the sudden blowwhichhadfallenuponthehousehold. Hewas hardlyarticulateashespokeofit.</s>“It was this horrible scandal,” said he. “My brother,SirJames,wasamanofverysensitivehonour, andhecouldnotsurvivesuchanaffair. Itbrokehis heart. Hewasalwayssoproudoftheefficiencyofhis department,andthiswasacrushingblow.” “Wehadhopedthathemighthavegivenussome indicationswhichwouldhavehelpedustoclearthe matterup.” “Iassureyouthatitwasallamysterytohimasit istoyouandtoallofus. Hehadalreadyputallhis knowledgeatthedisposalofthepolice. Naturallyhe hadnodoubtthatCadoganWestwasguilty. Butall therestwasinconceivable.” “Youcannotthrowanynewlightupontheaffair?” “IknownothingmyselfsavewhatIhavereador heard. I have no desire to be discourteous, but you can understand, Mr. Holmes, that we are much dis- turbedatpresent,andImustaskyoutohastenthis interviewtoanend.” “Thisisindeedanunexpecteddevelopment,”said myfriendwhenwehadregainedthecab. “Iwonder ifthedeathwasnatural,orwhetherthepooroldfel- low killed himself! If the latter, may it be taken as some sign of self-reproach for duty neglected? We mustleavethatquestiontothefuture. Nowweshall turntotheCadoganWests.” Asmallbutwell-kepthouseintheoutskirtsofthe town sheltered the bereaved mother. The old ladywas too dazed with grief to be of any use to us, but athersidewasawhite-facedyounglady,whointro- ducedherselfasMissVioletWestbury,thefianceeof thedeadman,andthelasttoseehimuponthatfatal night.</s>“Icannotexplainit,Mr.Holmes,”shesaid. “Ihave notshutaneyesincethetragedy,thinking,thinking, thinking,nightandday,whatthetruemeaningofit can be. Arthur was the most single-minded, chival- rous, patriotic man upon earth. He would have cut his right hand off before he would sell a State se- cretconfidedtohiskeeping. Itisabsurd,impossible, preposteroustoanyonewhoknewhim.” “Butthefacts,MissWestbury?” “Yes,yes;IadmitIcannotexplainthem.” “Washeinanywantofmoney?” “No; his needs were very simple and his salary ample. Hehadsavedafewhundreds,andwewere tomarryattheNewYear.” “Nosignsofanymentalexcitement? Come,Miss Westbury,beabsolutelyfrankwithus.” Thequickeyeofmycompanionhadnotedsome changeinhermanner. Shecolouredandhesitated.</s>“Yes,”shesaidatlast,“Ihadafeelingthatthere wassomethingonhismind.” “Forlong?” “Only for the last week or so. He was thought- ful and worried. Once I pressed him about it. He admitted that there was something, and that it was concerned with his official life. ’It is too serious for metospeakabout,eventoyou,’saidhe. Icouldget nothingmore.” Holmeslookedgrave.</s>“Go on, Miss Westbury. Even if it seems to tell againsthim,goon. Wecannotsaywhatitmaylead to.” “Indeed,Ihavenothingmoretotell. Onceortwice itseemedtomethathewasonthepointoftellingme something. Hespokeoneeveningoftheimportance ofthesecret,andIhavesomerecollectionthathesaid thatnodoubtforeignspieswouldpayagreatdealto haveit.” Myfriend’sfacegrewgraverstill.</s>“Anythingelse?” “He said that we were slack about such mat- ters—that it would be easy for a traitor to get the plans.” “Wasitonlyrecentlythathemadesuchremarks?” “Yes,quiterecently.” “Nowtellusofthatlastevening.” “We were to go to the theatre. The fog was so thickthatacabwasuseless. Wewalked,andourway tookusclosetotheoffice. Suddenlyhedartedaway intothefog.” “Withoutaword?” “He gave an exclamation; that was all. I waited but he never returned. Then I walked home. Next morning,aftertheofficeopened,theycametoinquire.</s>Abouttwelveo’clockweheardtheterriblenews. Oh, Mr.Holmes,ifyoucouldonly,onlysavehishonour! Itwassomuchtohim.” Holmesshookhisheadsadly.</s>“Come,Watson,”saidhe,“ourwayslieelsewhere.</s>Our next station must be the office from which the papersweretaken.</s>“It was black enough before against this young man,butourinquiriesmakeitblacker,”heremarked asthecablumberedoff. “Hiscomingmarriagegives amotiveforthecrime. Henaturallywantedmoney.</s>Theideawasinhishead,sincehespokeaboutit. He nearlymadethegirlanaccompliceinthetreasonby tellingherhisplans. Itisallverybad.” “Butsurely,Holmes,charactergoesforsomething? Then,again,whyshouldheleavethegirlinthestreet anddartawaytocommitafelony?” “Exactly! Therearecertainlyobjections. Butitisa formidablecasewhichtheyhavetomeet.” Mr. Sidney Johnson, the senior clerk, met us at theofficeandreceiveduswiththatrespectwhichmy companion’scardalwayscommanded. Hewasathin, gruff, bespectacled man of middle age, his cheeks haggard,andhishandstwitchingfromthenervous straintowhichhehadbeensubjected.</s>“Itisbad,Mr.Holmes,verybad! Haveyouheard ofthedeathofthechief?” “Wehavejustcomefromhishouse.” “Theplaceisdisorganized. Thechiefdead,Cado- gan West dead, our papers stolen. And yet, when weclosedourdooronMondayevening,wewereas efficient an office as any in the government service.</s>GoodGod,it’sdreadfultothinkof! ThatWest,ofall men,shouldhavedonesuchathing!” “Youaresureofhisguilt,then?” “Icanseenootherwayoutofit. AndyetIwould havetrustedhimasItrustmyself.” “AtwhathourwastheofficeclosedonMonday?” “Atfive.” “Didyoucloseit?”“Iamalwaysthelastmanout.” “Whereweretheplans?” “Inthatsafe. Iputthemtheremyself.” “Istherenowatchmantothebuilding?” “There is, but he has other departments to look after as well. He is an old soldier and a most trust- worthyman. Hesawnothingthatevening. Ofcourse thefogwasverythick.” “SupposethatCadoganWestwishedtomakehis way into the building after hours; he would need threekeys,wouldhenot,beforethecouldreachthe papers?” “Yes,hewould. Thekeyoftheouterdoor,thekey oftheoffice,andthekeyofthesafe.” “OnlySirJamesWalterandyouhadthosekeys?” “Ihadnokeysofthedoors—onlyofthesafe.” “Was Sir James a man who was orderly in his habits?” “Yes, I think he was. I know that so far as those three keys are concerned he kept them on the same ring. Ihaveoftenseenthemthere.” “AndthatringwentwithhimtoLondon?” “Hesaidso.” “Andyourkeyneverleftyourpossession?” “Never.” “ThenWest,ifheistheculprit,musthavehada duplicate. And yet none was found upon his body.</s>Oneotherpoint: ifaclerkinthisofficedesiredtosell the plans, would it not be simply to copy the plans forhimselfthantotaketheoriginals,aswasactually done?” “Itwouldtakeconsiderabletechnicalknowledge tocopytheplansinaneffectiveway.” “But I suppose either Sir James, or you, or West hasthattechnicalknowledge?” “Nodoubtwehad,butIbegyouwon’ttrytodrag me into the matter, Mr. Holmes. What is the use of ourspeculatinginthiswaywhentheoriginalplans wereactuallyfoundonWest?” “Well, it is certainly singular that he should run the risk of taking originals if he could safely have taken copies, which would have equally served his turn.” “Singular,nodoubt—andyethedidso.” “Everyinquiryinthiscaserevealssomethingin- explicable. Nowtherearethreepapersstillmissing.</s>Theyare,asIunderstand,thevitalones.” “Yes,thatisso.” “Do you mean to say that anyone holding these three papers, and without the seven others, could constructaBruce-Partingtonsubmarine?” “I reported to that effect to the Admiralty. But to-day I have been over the drawings again, and I am not so sure of it. The double valves with the au- tomatic self-adjusting slots are drawn in one of the paperswhichhavebeenreturned. Untiltheforeign- ers had invented that for themselves they could not make the boat. Of course they might soon get over thedifficulty.” “Butthethreemissingdrawingsarethemostim- portant?” “Undoubtedly.” “Ithink,withyourpermission,Iwillnowtakea stroll round the premises. I do not recall any other questionwhichIdesiredtoask.” Heexaminedthelockofthesafe,thedoorofthe room,andfinallytheironshuttersofthewindow. It wasonlywhenwewereonthelawnoutsidethathis interestwasstronglyexcited. Therewasalaurelbush outsidethewindow,andseveralofthebranchesbore signs of having been twisted or snapped. He exam- inedthemcarefullywithhislens,andthensomedim andvaguemarksupontheearthbeneath. Finallyhe askedthechiefclerktoclosetheironshutters,andhe pointedouttomethattheyhardlymetinthecentre, and that it would be possible for anyone outside to seewhatwasgoingonwithintheroom.</s>“The indications are ruined by three days’ delay.</s>Theymaymeansomethingornothing. Well,Watson, I do not think that Woolwich can help us further. It isasmallcropwhichwehavegathered. Letusseeif wecandobetterinLondon.” Yetweaddedonemoresheaftoourharvestbefore weleftWoolwichStation. Theclerkintheticketoffice wasabletosaywithconfidencethathesawCadogan West—whomheknewwellbysight—upontheMon- day night, and that he went to London by the 8.15 to London Bridge. He was alone and took a single third-classticket. Theclerkwasstruckatthetimeby his excited and nervous manner. So shaky was he thathecouldhardlypickuphischange,andtheclerk hadhelpedhimwithit. Areferencetothetimetable showedthatthe8.15wasthefirsttrainwhichitwas possible for West to take after he had left the lady about7.30.</s>“Let us reconstruct, Watson,” said Holmes after halfanhourofsilence. “Iamnotawarethatinallour joint researches we have ever had a case which was more difficult to get at. Every fresh advance whichwemakeonlyrevealsafreshridgebeyond. Andyet wehavesurelymadesomeappreciableprogress.</s>“The effect of our inquiries at Woolwich has in themainbeenagainstyoungCadoganWest;butthe indicationsatthewindowwouldlendthemselvesto amorefavourablehypothesis. Letussuppose,forex- ample,thathehadbeenapproachedbysomeforeign agent. Itmighthavebeendoneundersuchpledgesas wouldhavepreventedhimfromspeakingofit, and yetwouldhaveaffectedhisthoughtsinthedirection indicated by his remarks to his fiancee. Very good.</s>We will now suppose that as he went to the theatre withtheyoungladyhesuddenly,inthefog,caughta glimpseofthissameagentgoinginthedirectionof theoffice. Hewasanimpetuousman,quickinhisde- cisions. Everythinggavewaytohisduty. Hefollowed theman,reachedthewindow,sawtheabstractionof thedocuments,andpursuedthethief. Inthiswaywe getovertheobjectionthatnoonewouldtakeoriginals whenhecouldmakecopies. Thisoutsiderhadtotake originals. Sofaritholdstogether.” “Whatisthenextstep?” “Thenwecomeintodifficulties. Onewouldimag- ine that under such circumstances the first act of young Cadogan West would be to seize the villain andraisethealarm. Whydidhenotdoso? Couldit have been an official superior who took the papers? That would explain West’s conduct. Or could the chief have given West the slip in the fog, and West started at once to London to head him off from his ownrooms,presumingthatheknewwheretherooms were? Thecallmusthavebeenverypressing,sincehe lefthisgirlstandinginthefogandmadenoeffortto communicatewithher. Ourscentrunscoldhere,and thereisavastgapbetweeneitherhypothesisandthe layingofWest’sbody,withsevenpapersinhispocket, ontheroofofaMetropolitantrain. Myinstinctnow istoworkformtheotherend. IfMycrofthasgivenus thelistofaddresseswemaybeabletopickourman andfollowtwotracksinsteadofone.” Surelyenough,anoteawaitedusatBakerStreet.</s>Agovernmentmessengerhadbroughtitpost-haste.</s>Holmesglancedatitandthrewitovertome.</s>There are numerous small fry, but few who would handle so big an affair. The only men worth considering are Adolph Mayer, of 13 Great George Street, West- minster; Louis La Rothiere, of Campden Mansions, Notting Hill; and Hugo Ober- stein, 13 Caulfield Gardens, Kensington.</s>The latter was known to be in town on Monday and is now reported as having left. Glad to hear you have seen some light. TheCabinetawaitsyourfinalreport withtheutmostanxiety. Urgentrepresen- tationshavearrivedfromtheveryhighest quarter. ThewholeforceoftheStateisat yourbackifyoushouldneedit.</s>—Mycroft.</s>“I’m afraid,” said Holmes, smiling, “that all the queen’shorsesandallthequeen’smencannotavail inthismatter.”HehadspreadouthisbigmapofLon- donandleanedeagerlyoverit. “Well,well,”saidhe presentlywithanexclamationofsatisfaction,“things areturningalittleinourdirectionatlast. Why,Wat- son,Idohonestlybelievethatwearegoingtopullit off,afterall.”Heslappedmeontheshoulderwitha sudden burst of hilarity. “I am going out now. It is onlyareconnaissance. Iwilldonothingseriouswith- outmytrustedcomradeandbiographeratmyelbow.</s>Doyoustayhere,andtheoddsarethatyouwillsee meagaininanhourortwo. Iftimehangsheavyget foolscapandapen,andbeginyournarrativeofhow wesavedtheState.” I felt some reflection of his elation in my own mind,forIknewwellthathewouldnotdepartsofar from his usual austerity of demeanour unless there wasgoodcauseforexultation. AllthelongNovember evening I waited, filled with impatience for his re- turn. Atlast,shortlyafternineo’clock,therearrived amessengerwithanote: Am dining at Goldini’s Restaurant, GloucesterRoad,Kensington. Pleasecome atonceandjoinmethere. Bringwithyou a jemmy, a dark lantern, a chisel, and a revolver.</s>—S.H.</s>Itwasaniceequipmentforarespectablecitizento carrythroughthedim, fog-drapedstreets. Istowed them all discreetly away in my overcoat and drove straighttotheaddressgiven. Theresatmyfriendat alittleroundtablenearthedoorofthegarishItalian restaurant.</s>“Have you had something to eat? Then join me in a coffee and curacao. Try one of the proprietor’s cigars. They are less poisonous than one would ex- pect. Haveyouthetools?” “Theyarehere,inmyovercoat.” “Excellent. Letmegiveyouashortsketchofwhat I have done, with some indication of what we are abouttodo. Nowitmustbeevidenttoyou,Watson,that this young man’s body was placed on the roof of the train. That was clear from the instant that I determinedthefactthatitwasfromtheroof,andnot fromacarriage,thathehadfallen.” “Coulditnothavebeendroppedfromabridge?” “I should say it was impossible. If you examine theroofsyouwillfindthattheyareslightlyrounded, andthereisnorailingroundthem. Therefore,wecan sayforcertainthatyoungCadoganWestwasplaced onit.” “Howcouldhebeplacedthere?” “Thatwasthequestionwhichwehadtoanswer.</s>There is only one possible way. You are aware that theUndergroundrunsclearoftunnelsatsomepoints intheWestEnd. IhadavaguememorythatasIhave travelledbyitIhaveoccasionallyseenwindowsjust above my head. Now, suppose that a train halted undersuchawindow,wouldtherebeanydifficulty inlayingabodyupontheroof?” “Itseemsmostimprobable.” “Wemustfallbackupontheoldaxiomthatwhen all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, how- ever improbable, must be the truth. Here all other contingencieshavefailed. WhenIfoundthatthelead- ing international agent, who had just left London, livedinarowofhouseswhichabuttedupontheUn- derground, I was so pleased that you were a little astonishedatmysuddenfrivolity.” “Oh,thatwasit,wasit?” “Yes, that was it. Mr. Hugo Oberstein, of 13 CaulfieldGardens,hadbecomemyobjective. Ibegan my operations at Gloucester Road Station, where a veryhelpfulofficialwalkedwithmealongthetrack and allowed me to satisfy myself not only that the back-stairwindowsofCaulfieldGardensopenonthe line but the even more essential fact that, owing to theintersectionofoneofthelargerrailways,theUn- dergroundtrainsarefrequentlyheldmotionlessfor someminutesatthatveryspot.” “Splendid,Holmes! Youhavegotit!” “Sofar—sofar,Watson. Weadvance,butthegoal is afar. Well, having seen the back of Caulfield Gar- dens,Ivisitedthefrontandsatisfiedmyselfthatthe bird was indeed flown. It is a considerable house, unfurnished, so far as I could judge, in the upper rooms. Obersteinlivedtherewithasinglevalet,who wasprobablyaconfederateentirelyinhisconfidence.</s>WemustbearinmindthatObersteinhasgonetothe Continent to dispose of his booty, but not with any ideaofflight;forhehadnoreasontofearawarrant, and the idea of an amateur domiciliary visit would certainlyneveroccurtohim. Yetthatispreciselywhat weareabouttomake.” “Couldwenotgetawarrantandlegalizeit?” “Hardlyontheevidence.” “Whatcanwehopetodo?” “We cannot tell what correspondence may be there.” “Idon’tlikeit,Holmes.” “Mydearfellow,youshallkeepwatchinthestreet.</s>I’lldothecriminalpart. It’snotatimetostickattri- fles. Think of Mycroft’s note, of the Admiralty, the Cabinet,theexaltedpersonwhowaitsfornews. We areboundtogo.” Myanswerwastorisefromthetable.</s>“Youareright,Holmes. Weareboundtogo.” Hesprangupandshookmebythehand.</s>“Iknewyouwouldnotshrinkatthelast,”saidhe, andforamomentIsawsomethinginhiseyeswhich was nearer to tenderness than I had ever seen. The nextinstanthewashismasterful,practicalselfonce more.</s>“Itisnearlyhalfamile,butthereisnohurry. Let uswalk,”saidhe. “Don’tdroptheinstruments,Ibeg.</s>Yourarrestasasuspiciouscharacterwouldbeamost unfortunatecomplication.” Caulfield Gardens was one of those lines of flat- faced pillared, and porticoed houses which are so prominentaproductofthemiddleVictorianepochin theWestEndofLondon. Nextdoorthereappeared tobeachildren’sparty,forthemerrybuzzofyoung voicesandtheclatterofapianoresoundedthrough the night. The fog still hung about and screened us with its friendly shade. Holmes had lit his lantern andflashedituponthemassivedoor.</s>“Thisisaseriousproposition,”saidhe. “Itiscer- tainlyboltedaswellaslocked. Wewoulddobetterin thearea. Thereisanexcellentarchwaydownyonder incaseatoozealouspolicemanshouldintrude. Give meahand,Watson,andI’lldothesameforyou.” Aminutelaterwewerebothinthearea. Hardly hadwereachedthedarkshadowsbeforethestepof thepolicemanwasheardinthefogabove. Asitssoft rhythmdiedaway,Holmessettoworkuponthelower door. I saw him stoop and strain until with a sharp crashitflewopen. Wesprangthroughintothedark passage,closingtheareadoorbehindus. Holmeslet the way up the curving, uncarpeted stair. His little fanofyellowlightshoneuponalowwindow.</s>“Hereweare,Watson—thismustbetheone.”He threwitopen,andashedidsotherewasalow,harshmurmur,growingsteadilyintoaloudroarasatrain dashed past us in the darkness. Holmes swept his lightalongthewindow-sill. Itwasthicklycoatedwith sootfromthepassingengines,buttheblacksurface wasblurredandrubbedinplaces.</s>“Youcanseewheretheyrestedthebody. Halloa, Watson! whatisthis? Therecanbenodoubtthatitis abloodmark.”Hewaspointingtofaintdiscoloura- tionsalongthewoodworkofthewindow. “Hereitis on the stone of the stair also. The demonstration is complete. Letusstayhereuntilatrainstops.” We had not long to wait. The very next train roared from the tunnel as before, but slowed in the open,andthen,withacreakingofbrakes,pulledup immediatelybeneathus. Itwasnotfourfeetfromthe window-ledge to the roof of the carriages. Holmes softlyclosedthewindow.</s>“So far we are justified,” said he. “What do you thinkofit,Watson?” “Amasterpiece. Youhaveneverrisentoagreater height.” “Icannotagreewithyouthere. Fromthemoment thatIconceivedtheideaofthebodybeinguponthe roof, which surely was not a very abstruse one, all the rest was inevitable. If it were not for the grave interestsinvolvedtheaffairuptothispointwouldbe insignificant. Ourdifficultiesarestillbeforeus. But perhapswemayfindsomethingherewhichmayhelp us.” Wehadascendedthekitchenstairandenteredthe suiteofroomsuponthefirstfloor. Onewasadining- room,severelyfurnishedandcontainingnothingof interest. Asecondwasabedroom,whichalsodrew blank. The remaining room appeared more promis- ing,andmycompanionsettleddowntoasystematic examination. It was littered with books and papers, and was evidently used as a study. Swiftly and me- thodicallyHolmesturnedoverthecontentsofdrawer after drawer and cupboard after cupboard, but no gleamofsuccesscametobrightenhisaustereface. At the end of an hour he was no further than when he started.</s>“Thecunningdoghascoveredhistracks,”saidhe.</s>“Hehasleftnothingtoincriminatehim. Hisdanger- ouscorrespondencehasbeendestroyedorremoved.</s>Thisisourlastchance.” Itwasasmalltincash-boxwhichstooduponthe writing-desk. Holmes pried it open with his chisel.</s>Severalrollsofpaperwerewithin,coveredwithfig- ures and calculations, without any note to show to whattheyreferred. Therecurringwords,“waterpres- sure” and “pressure to the square inch” suggested somepossiblerelationtoasubmarine. Holmestossed them all impatientlyaside. There only remained an envelopewithsomesmallnewspaperslipsinsideit.</s>Heshookthemoutonthetable,andatonceIsawby hiseagerfacethathishopeshadbeenraised.</s>“What’sthis,Watson? Eh? What’sthis? Recordof aseriesofmessagesintheadvertisementsofapaper.</s>Daily Telegraph agony column by the print and pa- per. Right-handtopcornerofapage. Nodates—but messagesarrangethemselves. Thismustbethefirst: “Hoped to hear sooner. Terms agreed to.</s>Writefullytoaddressgivenoncard.</s>—Pierrot.</s>“Nextcomes: “Toocomplexfordescription. Musthave full report, Stuff awaits you when goods delivered.</s>—Pierrot.</s>“Thencomes: “Matterpresses. Mustwithdrawofferun- less contract completed. Make appoint- mentbyletter. Willconfirmbyadvertise- ment.</s>—Pierrot.</s>“Finally: “Mondaynightafternine. Twotaps. Only ourselves. Do not be so suspicious. Pay- mentinhardcashwhengoodsdelivered.</s>—Pierrot.</s>“A fairly complete record, Watson! If we could onlygetatthemanattheotherend!”Hesatlostin thought,tappinghisfingersonthetable. Finallyhe sprangtohisfeet.</s>“Well, perhaps it won’t be so difficult, after all.</s>There is nothing more to be done here, Watson. I thinkwemightdriveroundtotheofficesoftheDaily Telegraph,andsobringagoodday’sworktoacon- clusion.” MycroftHolmesandLestradehadcomeroundby appointment after breakfast next day and Sherlock Holmes had recounted to them our proceedings ofthedaybefore. Theprofessionalshookhisheadover ourconfessedburglary.</s>“We can’t do these things in the force, Mr.</s>Holmes,”saidhe. “Nowonderyougetresultsthatare beyondus. Butsomeofthesedaysyou’llgotoofar, andyou’llfindyourselfandyourfriendintrouble.” “For England, home and beauty—eh, Watson? Martyrs on the altar of our country. But what do youthinkofit,Mycroft?” “Excellent, Sherlock! Admirable! But what use willyoumakeofit?” HolmespickeduptheDailyTelegraphwhichlay uponthetable.</s>“HaveyouseenPierrot’sadvertisementto-day?” “What? Anotherone?” “Yes,hereitis: “To-night. Same hour. Same place. Two taps. Most vitally important. Your own safetyatstake.</s>—Pierrot.</s>“ByGeorge!”criedLestrade. “Ifheanswersthat we’vegothim!” “ThatwasmyideawhenIputitin. Ithinkifyou couldbothmakeitconvenienttocomewithusabout eighto’clocktoCaulfieldGardenswemightpossibly getalittlenearertoasolution.” OneofthemostremarkablecharacteristicsofSher- lockHolmeswashispowerofthrowinghisbrainout ofactionandswitchingallhisthoughtsontolighter things whenever he had convinced himself that he couldnolongerworktoadvantage. Irememberthat duringthewholeofthatmemorabledayhelosthim- selfinamonographwhichhehadundertakenupon thePolyphonicMotetsofLassus. FormyownpartI had none of this power of detachment, and the day, in consequence, appeared to be interminable. The greatnationalimportanceoftheissue,thesuspense inhighquarters,thedirectnatureoftheexperiment which we were trying—all combined to work upon my nerve. It was a relief to me when at last, after a lightdinner,wesetoutuponourexpedition. Lestrade andMycroftmetusbyappointmentattheoutsideof GloucesterRoadStation. TheareadoorofOberstein’s househadbeenleftopenthenightbefore,anditwas necessaryforme,asMycroftHolmesabsolutelyand indignantlydeclinedtoclimbtherailings,topassin and open the hall door. By nine o’clock we were all seatedinthestudy,waitingpatentlyforourman.</s>An hour passed and yet another. When eleven struck, the measured beat of the great church clock seemed to sound the dirge of our hopes. Lestrade andMycroftwerefidgetingintheirseatsandlooking twice a minute at their watches. Holmes sat silent andcomposed,hiseyelidshalfshut,buteverysense onthealert. Heraisedhisheadwithasuddenjerk.</s>“Heiscoming,”saidhe.</s>Therehadbeenafurtivesteppastthedoor. Now itreturned. Weheardashufflingsoundoutside,and thentwosharptapswiththeknocker. Holmesrose, motioning us to remain seated. The gas in the hall wasamerepointoflight. Heopenedtheouterdoor, andthenasadarkfigureslippedpasthimheclosed and fastened it. “This way!” we heard him say, and a moment later our man stood before us. Holmes hadfollowedhimclosely,andasthemanturnedwith a cry of surprise and alarm he caught him by the collarandthrewhimbackintotheroom. Beforeour prisonerhadrecoveredhisbalancethedoorwasshut and Holmes standing with his back against it. The manglaredroundhim,staggered,andfellsenseless upon the floor. With the shock, his broad-brimmed hatflewfromhishead,hiscravatslippedsownfrom hislips,andtherewerethelonglightbeardandthe soft,handsomedelicatefeaturesofColonelValentine Walter.</s>Holmesgaveawhistleofsurprise.</s>“Youcanwritemedownanassthistime,Watson,” said he. “This was not the bird that I was looking for.” “Whoishe?”askedMycrofteagerly.</s>“TheyoungerbrotherofthelateSirJamesWalter, theheadoftheSubmarineDepartment. Yes,yes;Isee thefallofthecards. Heiscomingto. Ithinkthatyou hadbestleavehisexaminationtome.” We had carried the prostrate body to the sofa.</s>Now our prisoner sat up, looked round him with a horror-stricken face, and passed his hand over his forehead,likeonewhocannotbelievehisownsenses.</s>“Whatisthis?”heasked. “IcameheretovisitMr.</s>Oberstein.” “Everything is known, Colonel Walter,” said Holmes. “How an English gentleman could behave insuchamannerisbeyondmycomprehension. But yourwholecorrespondenceandrelationswithOber- stein are within our knowledge. So also are the cir- cumstancesconnectedwiththedeathofyoungCado- ganWest. Letmeadviseyoutogainatleastthesmall creditforrepentanceandconfession,sincethereare stillsomedetailswhichwecanonlylearnfromyour lips.”Themangroanedandsankhisfaceinhishands.</s>Wewaited,buthewassilent.</s>“I can assure you,” said Holmes, “that every es- sential is already known. We know that you were pressed for money; that you took an impress of the keyswhichyourbrotherheld;andthatyouentered intoacorrespondencewithOberstein,whoanswered yourlettersthroughtheadvertisementcolumnsofthe DailyTelegraph. Weareawarethatyouwentdown totheofficeinthefogonMondaynight,butthatyou wereseenandfollowedbyyoungCadoganWest,who had probably some previous reason to suspect you.</s>Hesawyourtheft,butcouldnotgivethealarm,asit wasjustpossiblethatyouweretakingthepapersto yourbrotherinLondon. Leavingallhisprivatecon- cerns,likethegoodcitizenthathewas,hefollowed youcloselyinthefogandkeptatyourheelsuntilyou reached this very house. There he intervened, and thenitwas,ColonelWalter,thattotreasonyouadded themoreterriblecrimeofmurder.” “Ididnot! Ididnot! BeforeGodIswearthatIdid not!”criedourwretchedprisoner.</s>“Tellus,then,howCadoganWestmethisendbe- foreyoulaidhimupontheroofofarailwaycarriage.” “Iwill. IsweartoyouthatIwill. Ididtherest. I confess it. It was just as you say. A Stock Exchange debthadtobepaid. Ineededthemoneybadly. Ober- steinofferedmefivethousand. Itwastosavemyself fromruin. Butastomurder,Iamasinnocentasyou.” “Whathappened,then?” “He had his suspicions before, and he followed me as you describe. I never knew it until I was at the very door. It was thick fog, and one could not seethreeyards. IhadgiventwotapsandOberstein had come to the door. The young man rushed up and demanded to know what we were about to do withthepapers. Obersteinhadashortlife-preserver.</s>He always carried it with him. As West forced his wayafterusintothehouseObersteinstruckhimon the head. The blow was a fatal one. He was dead withinfiveminutes. Therehelayinthehall,andwe wereatourwit’sendwhattodo. ThenObersteinhad thisideaaboutthetrainswhichhaltedunderhisback window. ButfirstheexaminedthepaperswhichIhad brought. He said that three of them were essential, andthathemustkeepthem. ’Youcannotkeepthem,’ said I. ’There will be a dreadful row at Woolwich if they are not returned.’ ’I must keep them,’ said he, ’for they are so technical that it is impossible in the time to make copies.’ ’Then they must all go back togetherto-night,’saidI.Hethoughtforalittle,and then he cried out that he had it. ’Three I will keep,’ said he. ’The others we will stuff into the pocket of this young man. When he is found the whole busi- ness will assuredly be put to his account.’ I could seenootherwayoutofit,sowedidashesuggested.</s>Wewaitedhalfanhouratthewindowbeforeatrain stopped. It was so thick that nothing could be seen, andwehadnodifficultyinloweringWest’sbodyon tothetrain. ThatwastheendofthemattersofarasI wasconcerned.” “Andyourbrother?” “Hesaidnothing,buthehadcaughtmeoncewith hiskeys,andIthinkthathesuspected. Ireadinhis eyesthathesuspected. Asyouknow,heneverheld uphisheadagain.” There was silence in the room. It was broken by MycroftHolmes.</s>“Canyounotmakereparation? Itwouldeaseyour conscience,andpossiblyyourpunishment.” “WhatreparationcanImake?” “WhereisObersteinwiththepapers?” “Idonotknow.” “Didhegiveyounoaddress?” “HesaidthatletterstotheHoˆtelduLouvre,Paris, wouldeventuallyreachhim.” “Thenreparationisstillwithinyourpower,”said SherlockHolmes.</s>“I will do anything I can. I owe this fellow no particular good-will. He has been my ruin and my downfall.” “Herearepaperandpen. Sitatthisdeskandwrite to my dictation. Direct the envelope to the address given. Thatisright. Nowtheletter: “DearSir: “Withregardtoourtransaction,youwill nodoubthaveobservedbynowthatone essentialdetailismissing. Ihaveatracing whichwillmakeitcomplete. Thishasin- volvedmeinextratrouble,however,andI mustaskyouforafurtheradvanceoffive hundredpounds. Iwillnottrustittothe post,norwillItakeanythingbutgoldor notes. Iwouldcometoyouabroad,butit wouldexciteremarkifIleftthecountryat present. Therefore I shall expect to meet you in the smoking-room of the Charing CrossHotelatnoononSaturday. Remem- ber that only English notes, or gold, will betaken.“That will do very well. I shall be very much surprisedifitdoesnotfetchourman.” And it did! It is a matter of history—that secret historyofanationwhichisoftensomuchmoreinti- mateandinterestingthanitspublicchronicles—that Oberstein,eagertocompletethecoupofhislifetime, came to the lure and was safely engulfed for fifteen yearsinaBritishprison. Inhistrunkwerefoundthe invaluableBruce-Partingtonplans,whichhehadput upforauctioninallthenavalcentresofEurope.</s>ColonelWalterdiedinprisontowardstheendof the second year of his sentence. As to Holmes, he returnedrefreshedtohismonographuponthePoly- phonicMotetsofLassus,whichhassincebeenprinted forprivatecirculation,andissaidbyexpertstobethe lastworduponthesubject. Someweeksafterwards I learned incidentally that my friend spent a day at Windsor,whencebereturnedwitharemarkablyfine emeraldtie-pin. WhenIaskedhimifhehadbought it, he answered that it was a present from a certain gracious lady in whose interests he had once been fortunate enough to carry out a small commission.</s>Hesaidnomore;butIfancythatIcouldguessatthat lady’s august name, and I have little doubt that the emeraldpinwillforeverrecalltomyfriend’smemory theadventureoftheBruce-Partingtonplans.rs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes,wasalong-sufferingwoman. Not only was her first-floor flat invaded at all M hours by throngs of singular and often undesirable characters but her remarkable lodger showed an eccentricity and irregularity in his life which must have sorely tried her patience. His in- credibleuntidiness,hisaddictiontomusicatstrange hours,hisoccasionalrevolverpracticewithindoors, his weird and often malodorous scientific experi- ments, and the atmosphere of violence and danger which hung around him made him the very worst tenantinLondon. Ontheotherhand,hispayments wereprincely. Ihavenodoubtthatthehousemight havebeenpurchasedatthepricewhichHolmespaid forhisroomsduringtheyearsthatIwaswithhim.</s>The landlady stood in the deepest awe of him andneverdaredtointerferewithhim,howeverout- rageous his proceedings might seem. She was fond ofhim,too,forhehadaremarkablegentlenessand courtesyinhisdealingswithwomen. Hedislikedand distrustedthesex,buthewasalwaysachivalrousop- ponent. Knowing how genuine was her regard for him,Ilistenedearnestlytoherstorywhenshecame to my rooms in the second year of my married life and told me of the sad condition to which my poor friendwasreduced.</s>“He’s dying, Dr. Watson,” said she. “For three dayshehasbeensinking,andIdoubtifhewilllast theday. Hewouldnotletmegetadoctor. Thismorn- ingwhenIsawhisbonesstickingoutofhisfaceand hisgreatbrighteyeslookingatmeIcouldstandno moreofit. ‘Withyourleaveorwithoutit,Mr.Holmes, Iamgoingforadoctorthisveryhour,’saidI.‘Letit beWatson,then,’saidhe. Iwouldn’twasteanhour incomingtohim,sir,oryoumaynotseehimalive.” I was horrified for I had heard nothing of his ill- ness. IneednotsaythatIrushedformycoatandmy hat. AswedrovebackIaskedforthedetails.</s>“ThereislittleIcantellyou,sir. Hehasbeenwork- ingatacasedownatRotherhithe,inanalleynearthe river,andhehasbroughtthisillnessbackwithhim.</s>HetooktohisbedonWednesdayafternoonandhas nevermovedsince. Forthesethreedaysneitherfood nordrinkhaspassedhislips.” “GoodGod! Whydidyounotcallinadoctor?” “He wouldn’t have it, sir. You know how mas- terful he is. I didn’t dare to disobey him. But he’s notlongforthisworld,asyou’llseeforyourselfthe momentthatyouseteyesonhim.” Hewasindeedadeplorablespectacle. Inthedim light of a foggy November day the sick room was a gloomyspot,butitwasthatgaunt,wastedfacestar- ingatmefromthebedwhichsentachilltomyheart.</s>Hiseyeshadthebrightnessoffever,therewasahec- ticflushuponeithercheek,anddarkcrustsclungto his lips; the thin hands upon the coverlet twitched incessantly, his voice was croaking and spasmodic.</s>HelaylistlesslyasIenteredtheroom,butthesight ofmebroughtagleamofrecognitiontohiseyes.</s>“Well, Watson, we seem to have fallen upon evil days,”saidheinafeeblevoice,butwithsomething ofhisoldcarelessnessofmanner.</s>“Mydearfellow!”Icried,approachinghim.</s>“Standback! Standrightback!”saidhewiththe sharpimperiousnesswhichIhadassociatedonlywith moments of crisis. “If you approach me, Watson, I shallorderyououtofthehouse.” “Butwhy?” “Becauseitismydesire. Isthatnotenough?” Yes, Mrs. Hudson was right. He was more mas- terful than ever. It was pitiful, however, to see his exhaustion.</s>“Ionlywishedtohelp,”Iexplained.</s>“Exactly! You will help best by doing what you aretold.” “Certainly,Holmes.” Herelaxedtheausterityofhismanner.</s>“Youarenotangry?”heasked,gaspingforbreath.</s>Poordevil,howcouldIbeangrywhenIsawhim lyinginsuchaplightbeforeme? “It’sforyourownsake,Watson,”hecroaked.</s>“Formysake?” “Iknowwhatisthematterwithme. Itisacoolie diseasefromSumatra—athingthattheDutchknow moreaboutthanwe,thoughtheyhavemadelittleof ituptodate. Onethingonlyiscertain. Itisinfallibly deadly,anditishorriblycontagious.” He spoke now with a feverish energy, the long handstwitchingandjerkingashemotionedmeaway.</s>“Contagiousbytouch,Watson—that’sit,bytouch.</s>Keepyourdistanceandalliswell.” “Good heavens, Holmes! Do you suppose that suchaconsiderationweighswithmeofaninstant? It wouldnotaffectmeinthecaseofastranger. Doyou imagineitwouldpreventmefromdoingmydutyto sooldafriend?” AgainIadvanced,butherepulsedmewithalook offuriousanger.“If you will stand there I will talk. If you do not youmustleavetheroom.” Ihavesodeeparespectfortheextraordinaryqual- ities of Holmes that I have always deferred to his wishes,evenwhenIleastunderstoodthem. Butnow all my professional instincts were aroused. Let him be my master elsewhere, I at least was his in a sick room.</s>“Holmes,” said I, “you are not yourself. A sick man is but a child, and so I will treat you. Whether youlikeitornot,Iwillexamineyoursymptomsand treatyouforthem.” Helookedatmewithvenomouseyes.</s>“IfIamtohaveadoctorwhetherIwillornot,let meatleasthavesomeoneinwhomIhaveconfidence,” saidhe.</s>“Thenyouhavenoneinme?” “Inyourfriendship,certainly. Butfactsarefacts, Watson, and, after all, you are only a general prac- titioner with very limited experience and mediocre qualifications. Itispainfultohavetosaythesethings, butyouleavemenochoice.” Iwasbitterlyhurt.</s>“Such a remark is unworthy of you, Holmes. It showsmeveryclearlythestateofyourownnerves.</s>But if you have no confidence in me I would not in- trude my services. Let me bring Sir Jasper Meek or PenroseFisher,oranyofthebestmeninLondon. But someoneyoumusthave,andthatisfinal. Ifyouthink thatIamgoingtostandhereandseeyoudiewithout eitherhelpingyoumyselforbringinganyoneelseto helpyou,thenyouhavemistakenyourman.” “Youmeanwell,Watson,”saidthesickmanwith somethingbetweenasobandagroan. “ShallIdemon- strateyourownignorance? Whatdoyouknow,pray, of Tapanuli fever? What do you know of the black Formosacorruption?” “Ihaveneverheardofeither.” “There are many problems of disease, many strangepathologicalpossibilities,intheEast,Watson.” He paused after each sentence to collect his failing strength. “I have learned so much during some re- centresearcheswhichhaveamedico-criminalaspect.</s>It was in the course of them that I contracted this complaint. Youcandonothing.” “Possiblynot. ButIhappentoknowthatDr.Ain- stree,thegreatestlivingauthorityupontropicaldis- ease,isnowinLondon. Allremonstranceisuseless, Holmes,Iamgoingthisinstanttofetchhim.”Iturned resolutelytothedoor.</s>NeverhaveIhadsuchashock! Inaninstant,with atiger-spring, thedyingman hadinterceptedme. I heardthesharpsnapofatwistedkey. Thenextmo- menthehadstaggeredbacktohisbed,exhaustedand pantingafterhisonetremendousoutflameofenergy.</s>“You won’t take the key from be by force, Wat- son,I’vegotyou,myfriend. Hereyouare,andhere you will stay until I will otherwise. But I’ll humour you.”(All this in little gasps, with terrible struggles for breath between.) “You’ve only my own good at heart. OfcourseIknowthatverywell. Youshallhave yourway, but give metimetoget mystrength. Not now, Watson, not now. It’s four o’clock. At six you cango.” “Thisisinsanity,Holmes.” “Onlytwohours,Watson. Ipromiseyouwillgo atsix. Areyoucontenttowait?” “Iseemtohavenochoice.” “None in the world, Watson. Thank you, I need nohelpinarrangingtheclothes. Youwillpleasekeep your distance. Now, Watson, there is one other con- dition that I would make. You will seek help, not from the man you mention, but from the one that I choose.” “Byallmeans.” “The first three sensible words that you have ut- teredsinceyouenteredthisroom,Watson. Youwill find some books over there. I am somewhat ex- hausted;Iwonderhowabatteryfeelswhenitpours electricityintoanon-conductor? Atsix,Watson,we resumeourconversation.” Butitwasdestinedtoberesumedlongbeforethat hour, and in circumstances which gave me a shock hardlysecondtothatcausedbyhisspringtothedoor.</s>I had stood for some minutes looking at the silent figureinthebed. Hisfacewasalmostcoveredbythe clothes and he appeared to be asleep. Then, unable tosettledowntoreading,Iwalkedslowlyroundthe room,examiningthepicturesofcelebratedcriminals with which every wall was adorned. Finally, in my aimlessperambulation,Icametothemantelpiece. A litterofpipes,tobacco-pouches,syringes,penknives, revolver-cartridges, and other debris was scattered over it. In the midst of these was a small black and whiteivoryboxwithaslidinglid. Itwasaneatlittle thing,andIhadstretchedoutmyhandtoexamineit morecloselywhen— It was a dreadful cry that he gave—a yell which mighthavebeenhearddownthestreet. Myskinwent coldandmyhairbristledatthathorriblescream. As IturnedIcaughtaglimpseofaconvulsedfaceandfranticeyes. Istoodparalyzed,withthelittleboxin myhand.</s>“Put it down! Down, this instant, Watson—this instant, I say!” His head sank back upon the pillow and he gave a deep sigh of relief as I replaced the boxuponthemantelpiece. “Ihatetohavemythings touched, Watson. You know that I hate it. You fid- get me beyond endurance. You, a doctor—you are enoughtodriveapatientintoanasylum. Sitdown, man,andletmehavemyrest!” The incident left a most unpleasant impression uponmymind. Theviolentandcauselessexcitement, followed by this brutality of speech, so far removed from his usual suavity, showed me how deep was thedisorganizationofhismind. Ofallruins,thatof a noble mind is the most deplorable. I sat in silent dejection until the stipulated time had passed. He seemedtohavebeenwatchingtheclockaswellasI, foritwashardlysixbeforehebegantotalkwiththe samefeverishanimationasbefore.</s>“Now, Watson,” said he. “Have you any change inyourpocket?” “Yes.” “Anysilver?” “Agooddeal.” “Howmanyhalf-crowns?” “Ihavefive.” “Ah, too few! Too few! How very unfortunate, Watson! However,suchastheyareyoucanputthem inyourwatchpocket. Andalltherestofyourmoney inyourlefttrouserpocket. Thankyou. Itwillbalance yousomuchbetterlikethat.” Thiswasravinginsanity. Heshuddered,andagain madeasoundbetweenacoughandasob.</s>“Youwillnowlightthegas,Watson,butyouwill be very careful that not for one instant shall it be more thanhalf on. I imploreyouto becareful, Wat- son. Thank you, that is excellent. No, you need not draw the blind. Now you will have the kindness to placesomelettersandpapersuponthistablewithin myreach. Thankyou. Nowsomeofthatlitterfrom themantelpiece. Excellent,Watson! Thereisasugar- tongs there. Kindly raise that small ivory box with itsassistance. Placeithereamongthepapers. Good! YoucannowgoandfetchMr.CulvertonSmith,of13 LowerBurkeStreet.” To tell the truth, my desire to fetch a doctor had somewhat weakened, for poor Holmes was so obvi- ouslydeliriousthatitseemeddangeroustoleavehim.</s>However,hewasaseagernowtoconsulttheperson namedashehadbeenobstinateinrefusing.</s>“Ineverheardthename,”saidI.</s>“Possibly not, my good Watson. It may surprise you to know that the man upon earth who is best versed in this disease is not a medical man, but a planter. Mr.CulvertonSmithisawell-knownresident of Sumatra, now visiting London. An outbreak of the disease upon his plantation, which was distant frommedicalaid,causedhimtostudyithimself,with someratherfar-reachingconsequences. Heisavery methodicalperson,andIdidnotdesireyoutostart beforesix,becauseIwaswellawarethatyouwould notfindhiminhisstudy. Ifyoucouldpersuadehim to come here and give us the benefit of his unique experienceofthisdisease,theinvestigationofwhich has been his dearest hobby, I cannot doubt that he couldhelpme.” I gave Holmes’s remarks as a consecutive whole andwillnotattempttoindicatehowtheywereinter- rupted by gaspings for breath and those clutchings ofhishandswhichindicatedthepainfromwhichhe was suffering. His appearance had changed for the worseduringthefewhoursthatIhadbeenwithhim.</s>Those hectic spots were more pronounced, the eyes shonemorebrightlyoutofdarkerhollows,andacold sweat glimmered upon his brow. He still retained, however, the jaunty gallantry of his speech. To the lastgasphewouldalwaysbethemaster.</s>“Youwilltellhimexactlyhowyouhaveleftme,” saidhe. “Youwillconveytheveryimpressionwhich is in your own mind—a dying man—a dying and deliriousman. Indeed,Icannotthinkwhythewhole bed of the ocean is not one solid mass of oysters, so prolific the creatures seem. Ah, I am wondering! Strangehowthebraincontrolsthebrain! WhatwasI saying,Watson?” “MydirectionsforMr.CulvertonSmith.” “Ah, yes, I remember. My life depends upon it.</s>Plead with him, Watson. There is no good feeling betweenus. Hisnephew,Watson—Ihadsuspicions offoulplayandIallowedhimtoseeit. Theboydied horribly. Hehasagrudgeagainstme. Youwillsoften him,Watson. Beghim,prayhim,gethimherebyany means. Hecansaveme—onlyhe!” “I will bring him in a cab, if I have to carry him downtoit.” “You will do nothing of the sort. You will per- suadehimtocome. Andthenyouwillreturninfront of him. Make any excuse so as not to come with him. Don’t forget, Watson. You won’t fail me. Youneverdidfailme. Nodoubttherearenaturalenemies which limit the increase of the creatures. You and I, Watson,wehavedoneourpart. Shalltheworld,then, beoverrunbyoysters? No,no;horrible! You’llconvey allthatisinyourmind.” Ilefthimfulloftheimageofthismagnificentin- tellect babbling like a foolish child. He had handed methekey,andwithahappythoughtItookitwith melestheshouldlockhimselfin. Mrs.Hudsonwas waiting,tremblingandweeping,inthepassage. Be- hind me as I passed from the flat I heard Holmes’s high,thinvoiceinsomedeliriouschant. Below,asI stoodwhistlingforacab,amancameonmethrough thefog.</s>“HowisMr.Holmes,sir?”heasked.</s>Itwasanoldacquaintance,InspectorMorton,of ScotlandYard,dressedinunofficialtweeds.</s>“Heisveryill,”Ianswered.</s>Helookedatmeinamostsingularfashion. Hadit notbeentoofiendish,Icouldhaveimaginedthatthe gleamofthefanlightshowedexultationinhisface.</s>“Iheardsomerumourofit,”saidhe.</s>Thecabhaddrivenup,andIlefthim.</s>Lower Burke Street proved to be a line of fine houses lying in the vague borderland between Not- tingHillandKensington. Theparticularoneatwhich mycabmanpulleduphadanairofsmuganddemure respectability in its old-fashioned iron railings, its massivefolding-door,anditsshiningbrasswork. All was in keeping with a solemn butler who appeared framedinthepinkradianceofatintedelectricallight behindhim.</s>“Yes,Mr.CulvertonSmithisin. Dr.Watson! Very good,sir,Iwilltakeupyourcard.” Myhumblenameandtitledidnotappeartoim- press Mr. Culverton Smith. Through the half-open doorIheardahigh,petulant,penetratingvoice.</s>“Who is this person? What does he want? Dear me,Staples,howoftenhaveIsaidthatIamnottobe disturbedinmyhoursofstudy?” Therecameagentleflowofsoothingexplanation fromthebutler.</s>“Well, I won’t see him, Staples. I can’t have my workinterruptedlikethis. Iamnotathome. Sayso.</s>Tellhimtocomeinthemorningifhereallymustsee me.” Againthegentlemurmur.</s>“Well,well,givehimthatmessage. Hecancome inthemorning,orhecanstayaway. Myworkmust notbehindered.” IthoughtofHolmestossinguponhisbedofsick- nessandcountingtheminutes,perhaps,untilIcould bring help to him. It was not a time to stand upon ceremony. His life depended upon my promptness.</s>Before the apologetic butler had delivered his mes- sageIhadpushedpasthimandwasintheroom.</s>With a shrill cry of anger a man rose from a re- cliningchairbesidethefire. Isawagreatyellowface, coarse-grainedandgreasy,withheavy,double-chin, andtwosullen,menacinggrayeyeswhichglaredat mefromundertuftedandsandybrows. Ahighbald headhadasmallvelvetsmoking-cappoisedcoquet- tishlyupononesideofitspinkcurve. Theskullwas of enormous capacity, and yet as I looked down I sawtomyamazementthatthefigureofthemanwas smallandfrail,twistedintheshouldersandbacklike onewhohassufferedfromricketsinhischildhood.</s>“What’sthis?”hecriedinahigh,screamingvoice.</s>“Whatisthemeaningofthisintrusion? Didn’tIsend youwordthatIwouldseeyouto-morrowmorning?” “I am sorry,” said I, “but the matter cannot be delayed. Mr.SherlockHolmes—” Thementionofmyfriend’snamehadanextraor- dinary effect upon the little man. The look of anger passed in an instant from his face. His features be- cametenseandalert.</s>“HaveyoucomefromHolmes?”heasked.</s>“Ihavejustlefthim.” “WhataboutHolmes? Howishe?” “Heisdesperatelyill. ThatiswhyIhavecome.” Themanmotionedmetoachair,andturnedtore- sumehisown. AshedidsoIcaughtaglimpseofhis faceinthemirroroverthemantelpiece. Icouldhave swornthatitwassetinamaliciousandabominable smile. YetIpersuadedmyselfthatitmusthavebeen somenervouscontractionwhichIhadsurprised,for heturnedtomeaninstantlaterwithgenuineconcern uponhisfeatures.</s>“I am sorry to hear this,” said he. “I only know Mr. Holmes through some business dealings which wehavehad,butIhaveeveryrespectforhistalents andhischaracter. Heisanamateurofcrime,asIam of disease. For him the villain, for me the microbe.</s>There are my prisons,” he continued, pointing to a rowofbottlesandjarswhichstooduponasidetable.</s>”Amongthosegelatinecultivationssomeofthevery worstoffendersintheworldarenowdoingtime.” “Itwasonaccountofyourspecialknowledgethat Mr.Holmesdesiredtoseeyou. Hehasahighopinionof you and thought that you were the one man in Londonwhocouldhelphim.” Thelittlemanstarted,andthejauntysmoking-cap slidtothefloor.</s>“Why?”heasked. “WhyshouldMr.Homesthink thatIcouldhelphiminhistrouble?” “BecauseofyourknowledgeofEasterndiseases.” “Butwhyshouldhethinkthatthisdiseasewhich hehascontractedisEastern?” “Because, in some professional inquiry, he has been working among Chinese sailors down in the docks.” Mr.CulvertonSmithsmiledpleasantlyandpicked uphissmoking-cap.</s>“Oh,that’sit—isit?”saidhe. “Itrustthematteris notsograveasyousuppose. Howlonghashebeen ill?” “Aboutthreedays.” “Ishedelirious?” “Occasionally.” “Tut,tut! Thissoundsserious. Itwouldbeinhu- man not to answer his call. I very much resent any interruptiontomywork,Dr.Watson,butthiscaseis certainlyexceptional. Iwillcomewithyouatonce.” IrememberedHolmes’sinjunction.</s>“Ihaveanotherappointment,”saidI.</s>“Very good. I will go alone. I have a note of Mr.</s>Holmes’saddress. Youcanrelyuponmybeingthere withinhalfanhouratmost.” It was with a sinking heart that I reentered Holmes’s bedroom. For all that I knew the worst might have happened in my absence. To my enor- mousrelief,hehadimprovedgreatlyintheinterval.</s>Hisappearancewasasghastlyasever,butalltraceof deliriumhadlefthimandhespokeinafeeblevoice, itistrue,butwithevenmorethanhisusualcrispness andlucidity.</s>“Well,didyouseehim,Watson?” “Yes;heiscoming.” “Admirable,Watson! Admirable! Youarethebest ofmessengers.” “Hewishedtoreturnwithme.” “That would never do, Watson. That would be obviouslyimpossible. Didheaskwhatailedme?” “ItoldhimabouttheChineseintheEastEnd.” “Exactly! Well, Watson, you have done all that a goodfriendcould. Youcannowdisappearfromthe scene.” “Imustwaitandhearhisopinion,Holmes.” “Of course you must. But I have reasons to sup- posethatthisopinionwouldbeverymuchmorefrank andvaluableifheimaginesthatwearealone. There isjustroombehindtheheadofmybed,Watson.” “MydearHolmes!” “Ifearthereisnoalternative,Watson. Theroom doesnotlenditselftoconcealment,whichisaswell, as it is the less likely to arouse suspicion. But just there,Watson,Ifancythatitcouldbedone.”Suddenly he sat up with a rigid intentness upon his haggard face. “There are the wheels, Watson. Quick, man, if you love me! And don’t budge, whatever hap- pens—whateverhappens,doyouhear? Don’tspeak! Don’tmove! Justlistenwithallyourears.”Theninan instant his sudden access of strength departed, and hismasterful,purposefultalkdronedawayintothe low,vaguemurmuringsofasemi-deliriousman.</s>From the hiding-place into which I had been so swiftly hustled I heard the footfalls upon the stair, withtheopeningandtheclosingofthebedroomdoor.</s>Then,tomysurprise,therecamealongsilence,bro- kenonlybytheheavybreathingsandgaspingsofthe sickman. Icouldimaginethatourvisitorwasstand- ingbythebedsideandlookingdownatthesufferer.</s>Atlastthatstrangehushwasbroken.</s>“Holmes!” he cried. “Holmes!” in the insistent toneofonewhoawakensasleeper. ”Can’tyouhear me, Holmes?” There was a rustling, as if he had shakenthesickmanroughlybytheshoulder.</s>“Is that you, Mr. Smith?” Holmes whispered. “I hardlydaredhopethatyouwouldcome.” Theotherlaughed.</s>“I should imagine not,” he said. “And yet, you see,Iamhere. Coalsoffire,Holmes—coalsoffire!” “It is very good of you—very noble of you. I appreciateyourspecialknowledge.” Ourvisitorsniggered.</s>“You do. You are, fortunately, the only man in Londonwhodoes. Doyouknowwhatisthematter withyou?” “Thesame,”saidHolmes.</s>“Ah! Yourecognizethesymptoms?” “Onlytoowell.” “Well, I shouldn’t be surprised, Holmes. I shouldn’t be surprised if it were the same. A bad lookoutforyouifitis. PoorVictorwasadeadman onthefourthday—astrong,heartyyoungfellow. It was certainly, as you said, very surprising that he should have contracted and out-of-the-way Asiaticdisease in the heart of London—a disease, too, of whichIhadmadesuchaveryspecialstudy. Singular coincidence, Holmes. Verysmartofyoutonoticeit, but rather uncharitable to suggest that it was cause andeffect.” “Iknewthatyoudidit.” “Oh,youdid,didyou? Well,youcouldn’tproveit, anyhow. Butwhatdoyouthinkofyourselfspreading reportsaboutmelikethat,andthencrawlingtome forhelpthemomentyouareintrouble? Whatsortof agameisthat—eh?” Iheardtherasping,labouredbreathingofthesick man. “Givemethewater!”hegasped.</s>“You’re precious near your end, my friend, but I don’t want you to go till I have had a word with you. That’swhyIgiveyouwater. There,don’tslopit about! That’sright. CanyouunderstandwhatIsay?” Holmesgroaned.</s>“Do what you can for me. Let bygones be by- gones,”hewhispered. “I’llputthewordsoutofmy head—IswearIwill. Onlycureme,andI’llforgetit.” “Forgetwhat?” “Well, about Victor Savage’s death. You as good asadmittedjustnowthatyouhaddoneit. I’llforget it.” “You can forget it or remember it, just as you like. Idon’tseeyouinthewitnessbox. Quiteanother shapedbox,mygoodHolmes,Iassureyou. Itmatters nothingtomethatyoushouldknowhowmynephew died. It’snothimwearetalkingabout. It’syou.” “Yes,yes.” “Thefellowwhocameforme—I’veforgottenhis name—said that you contracted it down in the East Endamongthesailors.” “Icouldonlyaccountforitso.” “You are proud of your brains, Holmes, are you not? Think yourself smart, don’t you? You came acrosssomeonewhowassmarterthistime. Nowcast yourmindback,Holmes. Canyouthinkofnoother wayyoucouldhavegotthisthing?” “Ican’tthink. Mymindisgone. Forheaven’ssake helpme!” “Yes,Iwillhelpyou. I’llhelpyoutounderstand just where you are and how you got there. I’d like youtoknowbeforeyoudie.” “Givemesomethingtoeasemypain.” “Painful, is it? Yes, the coolies used to do some squealing towards the end. Takes you as cramp, I fancy.” “Yes,yes;itiscramp.” “Well, you can hear what I say, anyhow. Listen now! Can you remember any unusual incident in yourlifejustaboutthetimeyoursymptomsbegan?” “No,no;nothing.” “Thinkagain.” “I’mtooilltothink.” “Well, then, I’ll help you. Did anything come by post?” “Bypost?” “Aboxbychance?” “I’mfainting—I’mgone!” “Listen,Holmes!”Therewasasoundasifhewas shaking the dying man, and it was all that I could do to hold myself quiet in my hiding-place. “You musthearme. Youshallhearme. Doyouremember a box—an ivory box? It came on Wednesday. You openedit—doyouremember?” “Yes, yes, I opened it. There was a sharp spring insideit. Somejoke—” “Itwasnojoke,asyouwillfindtoyourcost. You fool, you would have it and you have got it. Who askedyoutocrossmypath? Ifyouhadleftmealone Iwouldnothavehurtyou.” “I remember,” Holmes gasped. “The spring! It drewblood. Thisbox—thisonthetable.” “The very one, by George! And it may as well leave the room in my pocket. There goes your last shred of evidence. But you have the truth now, Holmes,andyoucandiewiththeknowledgethatI killedyou. YouknewtoomuchofthefateofVictor Savage, so I have sent you to share it. You are very nearyourend,Holmes. IwillsithereandIwillwatch youdie.” Holmes’s voice had sunk to an almost inaudible whisper.</s>“Whatisthat?”saidSmith. “Turnupthegas? Ah, the shadows begin to fall, do they? Yes, I will turn it up, that I may see you the better.” He crossed the room and the light suddenly brightened. ”Is there anyotherlittleservicethatIcandoyou,myfriend?” “Amatchandacigarette.” Inearlycalledoutinmyjoyandmyamazement.</s>He was speaking in his natural voice—a little weak, perhaps,buttheveryvoiceIknew. Therewasalong pause,andIfeltthatCulvertonSmithwasstanding insilentamazementlookingdownathiscompanion.</s>“What’sthemeaningofthis?”Iheardhimsayat lastinadry,raspingtone.“The best way of successfully acting a part is to be it,” said Holmes. “I give you my word that for threedaysIhavetastedneitherfoodnordrinkuntil youweregood enoughtopour meoutthat glassof water. ButitisthetobaccowhichIfindmostirksome.</s>Ah,herearesomecigarettes.”Iheardthestrikingof a match. ”That is very much better. Halloa! halloa! DoIhearthestepofafriend?” Therewerefootfallsoutside,thedooropened,and InspectorMortonappeared.</s>“All is in order and this is your man,” said Holmes.</s>Theofficergavetheusualcautions.</s>“Iarrestyouonthechargeofthe murderofone VictorSavage,”heconcluded.</s>“Andyoumightaddoftheattemptedmurderof one Sherlock Holmes,” remarked my friend with a chuckle. “To save an invalid trouble, Inspector, Mr.</s>CulvertonSmithwasgoodenoughtogiveoursignal byturningupthegas. Bytheway,theprisonerhasa smallboxintheright-handpocketofhiscoatwhich it would be as well to remove. Thank you. I would handleitgingerlyifIwereyou. Putitdownhere. It mayplayitspartinthetrial.” Therewasasuddenrushandascuffle,followed bytheclashofironandacryofpain.</s>“You’ll only get yourself hurt,” said the inspec- tor. “Standstill,willyou?”Therewastheclickofthe closinghandcuffs.</s>“A nice trap!” cried the high, snarling voice. “It will bring you into the dock, Holmes, not me. He asked me to come here to cure him. I was sorry for himandIcame. Nowhewillpretend,nodoubt,that Ihavesaidanythingwhichhemayinventwhichwill corroboratehisinsanesuspicions. Youcanlieasyou like,Holmes. Mywordisalwaysasgoodasyours.” “Goodheavens!”criedHolmes. “Ihadtotallyfor- gottenhim. MydearWatson,Ioweyouathousand apologies. To think that I should have overlooked you! IneednotintroduceyoutoMr.CulvertonSmith, sinceIunderstandthatyoumetsomewhatearlierin the evening. Have you the cab below? I will follow youwhenIamdressed,forImaybeofsomeuseat thestation.</s>“I never needed it more,” said Holmes as he re- freshed himself with a glass of claret and some bis- cuits in the intervals of his toilet. “However, as you know,myhabitsareirregular,andsuchafeatmeans less to me than to most men. It was very essential thatIshouldimpressMrs.Hudsonwiththerealityof mycondition,sinceshewastoconveyittoyou,and youinturntohim. Youwon’tbeoffended,Watson? You will realize that among your many talents dis- simulationfindsnoplace,andthatifyouhadshared mysecretyouwouldneverhavebeenabletoimpress Smithwiththeurgentnecessityofhispresence,which was the vital point of the whole scheme. Knowing his vindictive nature, I was perfectly certain that he wouldcometolookuponhishandiwork.” “But your appearance, Holmes—your ghastly face?” “Three days of absolute fast does not improve one’s beauty, Watson. For the rest, there is nothing which a sponge may not cure. With vaseline upon one’sforehead,belladonnainone’seyes,rougeover thecheek-bones,andcrustsofbeeswaxroundone’s lips, a very satisfying effect can be produced. Ma- lingering is a subject upon which I have sometimes thoughtofwritingamonograph. Alittleoccasional talkabouthalf-crowns,oysters,oranyotherextrane- oussubjectproducesapleasingeffectofdelirium.” “But why would you not let me near you, since therewasintruthnoinfection?” “Canyouask,mydearWatson? Doyouimagine thatIhavenorespectforyourmedicaltalents? Could I fancy that your astute judgment would pass a dy- ingmanwho,howeverweak,hadnoriseofpulseor temperature? Atfouryards,Icoulddeceiveyou. IfI failedtodoso,whowouldbringmySmithwithinmy grasp? No,Watson,Iwouldnottouchthatbox. You canjustseeifyoulookatitsidewayswherethesharp springlikeaviper’stoothemergesasyouopenit. I daresayitwasbysomesuchdevicethatpoorSavage, whostoodbetweenthismonsterandareversion,was done to death. My correspondence, however, is, as you know, a varied one, and I am somewhat upon my guard against any packages which reach me. It wascleartome,however,thatbypretendingthathe hadreallysucceededinhisdesignImightsurprisea confession. ThatpretenceIhavecarriedoutwiththe thoroughness of the true artist. Thank you, Watson, you must help me on with my coat. When we have finished at the police-station I think that something nutritiousatSimpson’swouldnotbeoutofplace.”ut why Turkish?” asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes,gazingfixedlyatmyboots. Iwas reclininginacane-backedchairatthemo- B ment,andmyprotrudedfeethadattracted hisever-activeattention.</s>“English,” I answered in some surprise. “I got thematLatimer’s,inOxfordStreet.” Holmes smiled with an expression of weary pa- tience.</s>“Thebath!”hesaid;“thebath! Whytherelaxing and expensive Turkish rather than the invigorating home-madearticle?” “BecauseforthelastfewdaysIhavebeenfeeling rheumatic and old. A Turkish bath is what we call an alterative in medicine—a fresh starting-point, a cleanserofthesystem.</s>“Bytheway,Holmes,”Iadded,“Ihavenodoubt theconnectionbetweenmybootsandaTurkishbath isaperfectlyself-evidentonetoalogicalmind,and yetIshouldbeobligedtoyouifyouwouldindicate it.” “Thetrainofreasoningisnotveryobscure,Wat- son,” said Holmes with a mischievous twinkle. “It belongs to the same elementary class of deduction which I should illustrate if I were to ask you who sharedyourcabinyourdrivethismorning.” “Idon’tadmitthatafreshillustrationisanexpla- nation,”saidIwithsomeasperity.</s>“Bravo, Watson! A very dignified and logical re- monstrance. Letmesee,whatwerethepoints? Take thelastonefirst—thecab. Youobservethatyouhave somesplashesontheleftsleeveandshoulderofyour coat. Had you sat in the centre of a hansom you wouldprobablyhavehadnosplashes,andifyouhad theywouldcertainlyhavebeensymmetrical. There- foreitisclearthatyousatattheside. Thereforeitis equallyclearthatyouhadacompanion.” “Thatisveryevident.” “Absurdlycommonplace,isitnot?” “Butthebootsandthebath?” “Equally childish. You are in the habit of doing upyourbootsinacertainway. Iseethemonthisoc- casionfastenedwithanelaboratedoublebow,which is not your usual method of tying them. You have, therefore,hadthemoff. Whohastiedthem? Aboot- maker—ortheboyatthebath. Itisunlikelythatitis thebootmaker,sinceyourbootsarenearlynew. Well, what remains? The bath. Absurd, is it not? But, for allthat,theTurkishbathhasservedapurpose.” “Whatisthat?” “You say that you have had it because you need a change. Let me suggest that you take one. How wouldLausannedo,mydearWatson—first-classtick- etsandallexpensespaidonaprincelyscale?” “Splendid! Butwhy?” Holmesleanedbackinhisarmchairandtookhis notebookfromhispocket.</s>“Oneofthemostdangerousclassesintheworld,” saidhe,“isthedriftingandfriendlesswoman. Sheis themostharmlessandoftenthemostusefulofmor- tals,butsheistheinevitableinciterofcrimeinothers.</s>She is helpless. She is migratory. She has sufficient meanstotakeherfromcountrytocountryandfrom hoteltohotel. Sheislost,asoftenasnot,inamazeof obscure pensions and boardinghouses. She is a stray chickeninaworldoffoxes. Whensheisgobbledup sheishardlymissed. Imuchfearthatsomeevilhas cometotheLadyFrancesCarfax.” I was relieved at this sudden descent from the generaltotheparticular. Holmesconsultedhisnotes.</s>“Lady Frances,” he continued, “is the sole sur- vivor of the direct family of the late Earl of Rufton.</s>Theestateswent,asyoumayremember,inthemale line. Shewasleftwithlimitedmeans,butwithsome very remarkable old Spanish jewellery of silver and curiouslycutdiamondstowhichshewasfondlyat- tached—too attached, for she refused to leave them withherbankerandalwayscarriedthemaboutwith her. A rather pathetic figure, the Lady Frances, a beautifulwoman,stillinfreshmiddleage,andyet,by astrangechange,thelastderelictofwhatonlytwenty yearsagowasagoodlyfleet.” “Whathashappenedtoher,then?” “Ah,whathashappenedtotheLadyFrances? Is shealiveordead? Thereisourproblem. Sheisalady of precise habits, and for four years it has been her invariablecustomtowriteeverysecondweektoMiss Dobney,heroldgoverness,whohaslongretiredand livesinCamberwell. ItisthisMissDobneywhohas consultedme. Nearlyfiveweekshavepassedwithout a word. The last letter was from the Hotel National at Lausanne. Lady Frances seems to have left there andgivennoaddress. Thefamilyareanxious,andas theyareexceedinglywealthynosumwillbespared ifwecanclearthematterup.” “IsMissDobneytheonlysourceofinformation? Surelyshehadothercorrespondents?” “Thereisonecorrespondentwhoisasuredraw, Watson. Thatisthebank. Singleladiesmustlive,and theirpassbooksarecompresseddiaries. Shebanksat Silvester’s. Ihaveglancedoverheraccount. Thelastcheck but one paid her bill at Lausanne, but it was alargeoneandprobablyleftherwithcashinhand.</s>Onlyonecheckhasbeendrawnsince.” “Towhom,andwhere?” “ToMissMarieDevine. Thereisnothingtoshow where the check was drawn. It was cashed at the CreditLyonnaisatMontpellierlessthanthreeweeks ago. Thesumwasfiftypounds.” “AndwhoisMissMarieDevine?” “ThatalsoIhavebeenabletodiscover. MissMarie Devine was the maid of Lady Frances Carfax. Why sheshouldhavepaidherthischeckwehavenotyet determined. I have no doubt, however, that your researcheswillsoonclearthematterup.” “Myresearches!” “Hencethehealth-givingexpeditiontoLausanne.</s>YouknowthatIcannotpossiblyleaveLondonwhile oldAbrahamsisinsuchmortalterrorofhislife. Be- sides,ongeneralprinciplesitisbestthatIshouldnot leavethecountry. ScotlandYardfeelslonelywithout me,anditcausesanunhealthyexcitementamongthe criminalclasses. Go,then,mydearWatson,andifmy humblecounselcaneverbevaluedatsoextravagant a rate as two pence a word, it waits your disposal nightanddayattheendoftheContinentalwire.” Two days later found me at the Hotel National at Lausanne, where I received every courtesy at the hands of M. Moser, the well-known manager. Lady Frances,asheinformedme,hadstayedthereforsev- eralweeks. Shehadbeenmuchlikedbyallwhomet her. Her age was not more than forty. She was still handsomeandboreeverysignofhavinginheryouth beenaverylovelywoman. M.Moserknewnothing of any valuable jewellery, but it had been remarked bytheservantsthattheheavytrunkinthelady’sbed- roomwasalwaysscrupulouslylocked. MarieDevine, themaid,wasaspopularashermistress. Shewasac- tuallyengagedtooneoftheheadwaitersinthehotel, andtherewasnodifficultyingettingheraddress. It was 11 Rue de Trajan, Montpellier. All this I jotted down and felt that Holmes himself could not have beenmoreadroitincollectinghisfacts.</s>Onlyonecornerstillremainedintheshadow. No lightwhichIpossessedcouldclearupthecausefor thelady’ssuddendeparture. Shewasveryhappyat Lausanne. Therewaseveryreasontobelievethatshe intended to remain for the season in her luxurious rooms overlooking the lake. And yet she had left at a single day’s notice, which involved her in the uselesspaymentofaweek’srent. OnlyJulesVibart, the lover of the maid, had any suggestion to offer.</s>Heconnectedthesuddendeparturewiththevisitto thehoteladayortwobeforeofatall,dark,bearded man. “Un sauvage—un ve´ritable sauvage!” cried Jules Vibart. Themanhadroomssomewhereinthetown.</s>HehadbeenseentalkingearnestlytoMadameonthe promenadebythelake. Thenhehadcalled. Shehad refusedtoseehim. HewasEnglish,butofhisname therewasnorecord. Madamehadlefttheplaceim- mediatelyafterwards. JulesVibart,and,whatwasof moreimportance,JulesVibart’ssweetheart,thought thatthiscallandthedeparturewerecauseandeffect.</s>OnlyonethingJuleswouldnotdiscuss. Thatwasthe reason why Marie had left her mistress. Of that he could or would say nothing. If I wished to know, I mustgotoMontpellierandaskher.</s>Soendedthefirstchapterofmyinquiry. Thesec- ond was devoted to the place which Lady Frances Carfax had sought when she left Lausanne. Con- cerningthistherehadbeensomesecrecy,whichcon- firmedtheideathatshehadgonewiththeintention of throwing someone off her track. Otherwise why shouldnotherluggagehavebeenopenlylabelledfor Baden? Both she and it reached the Rhenish spa by some circuitous route. This much I gathered from the manager of Cook’s local office. So to Baden I went, after dispatching to Holmes an account of all myproceedingsandreceivinginreplyatelegramof half-humorouscommendation.</s>AtBadenthetrackwasnotdifficulttofollow. Lady Frances had stayed at the Englischer Hof for a fort- night. While there she had made the acquaintance ofaDr.Shlessingerandhiswife,amissionaryfrom SouthAmerica. Likemostlonelyladies,LadyFrances foundhercomfortandoccupationinreligion. Dr.Sh- lessinger’sremarkablepersonality,hiswholehearted devotion, and the fact that he was recovering from a disease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected her deeply. She had helped Mrs. Sh- lessingerinthenursingoftheconvalescentsaint. He spenthisday,asthemanagerdescribedittome,upon alounge-chairontheveranda,withanattendantlady upon either side of him. He was preparing a map oftheHolyLand,withspecialreferencetotheking- domoftheMidianites,uponwhichhewaswritinga monograph. Finally,havingimprovedmuchinhealth, he and his wife had returned to London, and Lady Frances had started thither in their company. This was just three weeks before, and the manager had heardnothingsince. Astothemaid,Marie,shehad goneoffsomedaysbeforehandinfloodsoftears,af- ter informing the other maids that she was leaving service forever. Dr. Shlessinger had paid the bill ofthewholepartybeforehisdeparture.</s>“Bytheway,”saidthelandlordinconclusion,“you arenottheonlyfriendofLadyFrancesCarfaxwhois inquiring after her just now. Only a week or so ago wehadamanhereuponthesameerrand.” “Didhegiveaname?”Iasked.</s>“None;buthewasanEnglishman,thoughofan unusualtype.” “Asavage?”saidI,linkingmyfactsafterthefash- ionofmyillustriousfriend.</s>“Exactly. That describes him very well. He is a bulky,bearded,sunburnedfellow,wholooksasifhe would be more at home in a farmers’ inn than in a fashionablehotel. Ahard,fierceman,Ishouldthink, andonewhomIshouldbesorrytooffend.” Alreadythemysterybegantodefineitself,asfig- uresgrowclearerwiththeliftingofafog. Herewas thisgoodandpiousladypursuedfromplacetoplace byasinisterandunrelentingfigure. Shefearedhim, or she would not have fled from Lausanne. He had stillfollowed. Soonerorlaterhewouldovertakeher.</s>Hadhealreadyovertakenher? Wasthatthesecretof her continued silence? Could the good people who werehercompanionsnotscreenherfromhisviolence orhisblackmail? Whathorriblepurpose,whatdeep design, lay behind this long pursuit? There was the problemwhichIhadtosolve.</s>To Holmes I wrote showing how rapidly and surely I had got down to the roots of the matter. In replyIhadatelegramaskingforadescriptionofDr.</s>Shlessinger’sleftear. Holmes’sideasofhumourare strangeandoccasionallyoffensive,soItooknonotice of his ill-timed jest—indeed, I had already reached Montpellierinmypursuitofthemaid,Marie,before hismessagecame.</s>Ihadnodifficultyinfindingtheex-servantandin learningallthatshecouldtellme. Shewasadevoted creature,whohadonlylefthermistressbecauseshe was sure that she was in good hands, and because her own approaching marriage made a separation inevitableinanycase. Hermistresshad,asshecon- fessedwithdistress,shownsomeirritabilityoftemper towardsherduringtheirstayinBaden,andhadeven questioned her once as if she had suspicions of her honesty, and this had made the parting easier than it would otherwise have been. Lady Frances had given her fifty pounds as a wedding-present. Like me, Marie viewed with deep distrust the stranger who had driven her mistress from Lausanne. With herowneyesshehadseenhimseizethelady’swrist withgreatviolenceonthepublicpromenadebythe lake. Hewasafierceandterribleman. Shebelieved that it was out of dread of him that Lady Frances hadacceptedtheescortoftheShlessingerstoLondon.</s>She had never spoken to Marie about it, but many littlesignshadconvincedthemaidthathermistress livedinastateofcontinualnervousapprehension. So farshehadgotinhernarrative,whensuddenlyshe sprang from her chair and her face was convulsed with surprise and fear. “See!” she cried. “The mis- creantfollowsstill! ThereistheverymanofwhomI speak.” Through the open sitting-room window I saw a huge,swarthymanwithabristlingblackbeardwalk- ingslowlydownthecentreofthestreetandstaring eagerlyathenumbersofthehouses. Itwasclearthat, likemyself,hewasonthetrackofthemaid. Acting upon the impulse of the moment, I rushed out and accostedhim.</s>“YouareanEnglishman,”Isaid.</s>“WhatifIam?”heaskedwithamostvillainous scowl.</s>“MayIaskwhatyournameis?” “No,youmaynot,”saidhewithdecision.</s>The situation was awkward, but the most direct wayisoftenthebest.</s>“WhereistheLadyFrancesCarfax?”Iasked.</s>Hestaredatmewithamazement.</s>“What have you done with her? Why have you pursuedher? Iinsistuponananswer!”saidI.</s>Thefellowgaveabelowofangerandsprangupon melikeatiger. Ihaveheldmyowninmanyastrug- gle, but the man had a grip of iron and the fury of a fiend. His hand was on my throat and my senses werenearlygonebeforeanunshavenFrenchouvrier inablueblousedartedoutfromacabaretopposite, withacudgelinhishand,andstruckmyassailanta sharpcrackovertheforearm,whichmadehimleave gohishold. Hestoodforaninstantfumingwithrage anduncertainwhetherheshouldnotrenewhisattack.</s>Then,withasnarlofanger,heleftmeandenteredthe cottagefromwhichIhadjustcome. Iturnedtothank mypreserver,whostoodbesidemeintheroadway.</s>“Well,Watson,”saidhe,“averyprettyhashyou have made of it! I rather think you had better come backwithmetoLondonbythenightexpress.” Anhourafterwards,SherlockHolmes,inhisusual garbandstyle,wasseatedinmyprivateroomatthe hotel. Hisexplanationofhissuddenandopportune appearancewassimplicityitself,for,findingthathe couldgetawayfromLondon,hedeterminedtohead meoffatthenextobviouspointofmytravels. Inthedisguise of a workingman he had sat in the cabaret waitingformyappearance.</s>“And a singularly consistent investigation you have made, my dear Watson,” said he. “I cannot at the moment recall any possible blunder which you haveomitted. Thetotaleffectofyourproceedinghas beentogivethealarmeverywhereandyettodiscover nothing.” “Perhaps you would have done no better,” I an- sweredbitterly.</s>“Thereisno‘perhaps’aboutit. Ihavedonebetter.</s>HereistheHon.PhilipGreen,whoisafellow-lodger with you in this hotel, and we may find him the starting-pointforamoresuccessfulinvestigation.” A card had come up on a salver, and it was fol- lowedbythesamebeardedruffianwhohadattacked meinthestreet. Hestartedwhenhesawme.</s>“Whatisthis,Mr.Holmes?”heasked. “Ihadyour note and I have come. But what has this man to do withthematter?” “Thisismyoldfriendandassociate,Dr.Watson, whoishelpingusinthisaffair.” The stranger held out a huge, sunburned hand, withafewwordsofapology.</s>“IhopeIdidn’tharmyou. Whenyouaccusedme of hurting her I lost my grip of myself. Indeed, I’m notresponsibleinthesedays. Mynervesarelikelive wires. Butthissituationisbeyondme. WhatIwant toknow,inthefirstplace,Mr.Holmes,is,howinthe worldyoucametohearofmyexistenceatall.” “IamintouchwithMissDobney,LadyFrances’s governess.” “OldSusanDobneywiththemobcap! Iremember herwell.” “And she remembers you. It was in the days before—before you found it better to go to South Africa.” “Ah,Iseeyouknowmywholestory. Ineedhide nothing from you. I swear to you, Mr. Holmes, that there never was in this world a man who loved a womanwithamorewholeheartedlovethanIhadfor Frances. Iwasawildyoungster,Iknow—notworse than others of my class. But her mind was pure as snow. Shecouldnotbearashadowofcoarseness. So, whenshecametohearofthingsthatIhaddone,she wouldhavenomoretosaytome. Andyetsheloved me—thatisthewonderofit!—lovedmewellenough toremainsingleallhersainteddaysjustformysake alone. When the years had passed and I had made my money at Barberton I thought perhaps I could seekheroutandsoftenher. Ihadheardthatshewas still unmarried, I found her at Lausanne and tried all I knew. She weakened, I think, but her will was strong,andwhennextIcalledshehadleftthetown.</s>ItracedhertoBaden,andthenafteratimeheardthat hermaidwashere. I’maroughfellow,freshfroma rough life, and when Dr. Watson spoke to me as he didIlostholdofmyselfforamoment. ButforGod’s saketellmewhathasbecomeoftheLadyFrances.” “Thatisforustofindout,”saidSherlockHolmes withpeculiargravity. “WhatisyourLondonaddress, Mr.Green?” “TheLanghamHotelwillfindme.” “Then may I recommend that you return there and be on hand in case I should want you? I have nodesiretoencouragefalsehopes,butyoumayrest assuredthatallthatcanbedonewillbedoneforthe safety of Lady Frances. I can say no more for the instant. I will leave you this card so that you may be able to keep in touch with us. Now, Watson, if youwillpackyourbagIwillcabletoMrs.Hudsonto makeoneofherbesteffortsfortwohungrytravellers at7.30to-morrow.” Atelegramwasawaitinguswhenwereachedour Baker Street rooms, which Holmes read with an ex- clamationofinterestandthrewacrosstome. “Jagged or torn,” was the message, and the place of origin, Baden.</s>“Whatisthis?”Iasked.</s>“It is everything,” Holmes answered. “You may remembermyseeminglyirrelevantquestionastothis clericalgentleman’sleftear. Youdidnotanswerit.” “IhadleftBadenandcouldnotinquire.” “Exactly. ForthisreasonIsentaduplicatetothe manager of the Englischer Hof, whose answer lies here.” “Whatdoesitshow?” “It shows, my dear Watson, that we are dealing with an exceptionally astute and dangerous man.</s>The Rev. Dr. Shlessinger, missionary from South America, is none other than Holy Peters, one of the most unscrupulous rascals that Australia has ever evolved—andforayoungcountryithasturnedout someveryfinishedtypes. Hisparticularspecialtyis the beguiling of lonely ladies by playing upon their religiousfeelings,andhisso-calledwife,anEnglish- woman named Fraser, is a worthy helpmate. The natureofhistacticssuggestedhisidentitytome,and this physical peculiarity—he was badly bitten in a saloon-fightatAdelaidein’89—confirmedmysuspi- cion. Thispoorladyisinthehandsofamostinfernalcouple, who will stick at nothing, Watson. That she is already dead is a very likely supposition. If not, sheisundoubtedlyinsomesortofconfinementand unabletowritetoMissDobneyorherotherfriends.</s>ItisalwayspossiblethatsheneverreachedLondon, or that she has passed through it, but the former is improbable,as,withtheirsystemofregistration,itis noteasyforforeignerstoplaytrickswiththeConti- nentalpolice;andthelatterisalsounlikely,asthese rougescouldnothopetofindanyotherplacewhere itwouldbeaseasytokeepapersonunderrestraint.</s>All my instincts tell me that she is in London, but as we have at present no possible means of telling where, we can only take the obvious steps, eat our dinner, and possess our souls in patience. Later in theeveningIwillstrolldownandhaveawordwith friendLestradeatScotlandYard.” But neither the official police nor Holmes’s own smallbutveryefficientorganizationsufficedtoclear awaythemystery. AmidthecrowdedmillionsofLon- donthethreepersonswesoughtwereascompletely obliteratedasiftheyhadneverlived. Advertisements weretried,andfailed. Clueswerefollowed,andled to nothing. Every criminal resort whichShlessinger mightfrequentwasdrawninvain. Hisoldassociates werewatched,buttheykeptclearofhim. Andthen suddenly, after a week of helpless suspense there came a flash of light. A silver-and-brilliant pendant of old Spanish design had been pawned at Boving- ton’s,inWestminsterRoad. Thepawnerwasalarge, clean-shaven man of clerical appearance. His name and address were demonstrably false. The ear had escapednotice,butthedescriptionwassurelythatof Shlessinger.</s>ThreetimeshadourbeardedfriendfromtheLang- hamcalledfornews—thethirdtimewithinanhour of this fresh development. His clothes were getting looser on his great body. He seemed to be wilting awayinhisanxiety. “Ifyouwillonlygivemesome- thing to do!” was his constant wail. At last Holmes couldobligehim.</s>“Hehasbeguntopawnthejewels. Weshouldget himnow.” “But does this mean that any harm has befallen theLadyFrances?” Holmesshookhisheadverygravely.</s>“Supposing that they have held her prisoner up tonow,itisclearthattheycannotletherloosewith- out their own destruction. We must prepare for the worst.” “WhatcanIdo?” “Thesepeopledonotknowyoubysight?” “No.” “Itispossiblethathewillgotosomeotherpawn- brokerinthefuture. inthatcase,wemustbeginagain.</s>On the other hand, he has had a fair price and no questions asked, so if he is in need of ready-money he will probably come back to Bovington’s. I will give you a note to them, and they will let you wait intheshop. Ifthefellowcomesyouwillfollowhim home. Butnoindiscretion,and,aboveall,noviolence.</s>Iputyouonyourhonourthatyouwilltakenostep withoutmyknowledgeandconsent.” FortwodaystheHon.PhilipGreen(hewas,Imay mention,thesonofthefamousadmiralofthatname whocommandedtheSeaofAzoffleetintheCrimean War)broughtusnonews. Ontheeveningofthethird herushedintooursitting-room,pale,trembling,with every muscle of his powerful frame quivering with excitement.</s>“Wehavehim! Wehavehim!”hecried.</s>He was incoherent in his agitation. Holmes soothedhimwithafewwordsandthrusthimintoan armchair.</s>“Come,now,giveustheorderofevents,”saidhe.</s>“Shecameonlyanhourago. Itwasthewife,this time,butthependantshebroughtwasthefellowof theother. Sheisatall,palewoman,withferreteyes.” “Thatisthelady,”saidHolmes.</s>“ShelefttheofficeandIfollowedher. Shewalked up the Kennington Road, and I kept behind her.</s>Presently she went into a shop. Mr. Holmes, it was anundertaker’s.” Mycompanionstarted. “Well?”heaskedinthat vibrantvoicewhichtoldofthefierysoulbehindthe coldgrayface.</s>“Shewastalkingtothewomanbehindthecounter.</s>Ienteredaswell. ‘Itislate,’Iheardhersay,orwords to that effect. The woman was excusing herself. ‘It should be there before now,’ she answered. ‘It took longer,beingoutoftheordinary.’ Theybothstopped andlookedatme,soIaskedsomequestionsandthen lefttheshop.” “Youdidexcellentlywell. Whathappenednext?” “Thewomancameout,butIhadhidmyselfina doorway. Her suspicions had been aroused, I think, forshelookedroundher. Thenshecalledacaband got in. I was lucky enough to get another and so to followher. ShegotdownatlastatNo. 36,Poultney Square,Brixton. Idrovepast,leftmycabatthecorner ofthesquare,andwatchedthehouse.”“Didyouseeanyone?” “The windows were all in darkness save one on the lower floor. The blind was down, and I could not see in. I was standing there, wondering what I should do next, when a covered van drove up with twomeninit. Theydescended,tooksomethingout ofthevan,andcarrieditupthestepstothehalldoor.</s>Mr.Holmes,itwasacoffin.” “Ah!” “For an instant I was on the point of rushing in.</s>Thedoorhadbeenopenedtoadmitthemenandtheir burden. It was the woman who had opened it. But as I stood there she caught a glimpse of me, and I thinkthatsherecognizedme. Isawherstart,andshe hastilyclosedthedoor. Irememberedmypromiseto you,andhereIam.” “You have done excellent work,” said Holmes, scribbling a few words upon a half-sheet of paper.</s>“Wecandonothinglegalwithoutawarrant,andyou canservethecausebestbytakingthisnotedownto theauthoritiesandgettingone. Theremaybesome difficulty,butIshouldthinkthatthesaleofthejew- ellery should be sufficient. Lestrade will see to all details.” “But they may murder her in the meanwhile.</s>What could the coffin mean, and for whom could itbebutforher?” “Wewilldoallthatcanbedone,Mr.Green. Not a moment will be lost. Leave it in our hands. Now Watson,” he added as our client hurried away, “he will set the regular forces on the move. We are, as usual,theirregulars,andwemusttakeourownline of action. The situation strikes me as so desperate that the most extreme measures are justified. Not a momentistobelostingettingtoPoultneySquare.</s>“Let us try to reconstruct the situation,” said he as we drove swiftly past the Houses of Parliament and over Westminster Bridge. “These villains have coaxedthisunhappyladytoLondon,afterfirstalien- ating her from her faithful maid. If she has written anyletterstheyhavebeenintercepted. Throughsome confederate they have engaged a furnished house.</s>Once inside it, they have made her a prisoner, and theyhavebecomepossessedofthevaluablejewellery which has been their object from the first. Already they have begun to sell part of it, which seems safe enough to them, since they have no reason to think that anyone is interested in the lady’s fate. When she is released she will, of course, denounce them.</s>Therefore,shemustnotbereleased. Buttheycannot keep her under lock and key forever. So murder is theironlysolution.” “Thatseemsveryclear.” “Now we will take another line of reasoning.</s>Whenyoufollowtwoseparatechainsofthought,Wat- son, you will find some point of intersection which should approximate to the truth. We will start now, notfromtheladybutfromthecoffinandargueback- ward. That incident proves, I fear, beyond all doubt that the lady is dead. It points also to an orthodox burialwithproperaccompanimentofmedicalcertifi- cate and official sanction. Had the lady been obvi- ouslymurdered,theywouldhaveburiedherinahole inthebackgarden. Buthereallisopenandregular.</s>Whatdoesthismean? Surelythattheyhavedoneher to death in some way which has deceived the doc- torandsimulatedanaturalend—poisoning,perhaps.</s>Andyethowstrangethattheyshouldeverletadoctor approachherunlesshewereaconfederate,whichis hardlyacredibleproposition.” “Couldtheyhaveforgedamedicalcertificate?” “Dangerous,Watson,verydangerous. No,Ihardly seethemdoingthat. Pullup,cabby! Thisisevidently the undertaker’s, for we have just passed the pawn- broker’s. Would go in, Watson? Your appearance inspires confidence. Ask what hour the Poultney Squarefuneraltakesplaceto-morrow.” The woman in the shop answered me without hesitation that it was to be at eight o’clock in the morning. “Yousee,Watson,nomystery;everything above-board! In some way the legal forms have un- doubtedly been complied with, and they think that theyhavelittletofear. Well,there’snothingforitnow butadirectfrontalattack. Areyouarmed?” “Mystick!” “Well,well,weshallbestrongenough. ‘Thriceis hearmedwhohathhisquarreljust.’ Wesimplycan’t affordtowaitforthepoliceortokeepwithinthefour corners of the law. You can drive off, cabby. Now, Watson,we’lljusttakeourlucktogether,aswehave occasionallyinthepast.” He had rung loudly at the door of a great dark houseinthecentreofPoultneySquare. Itwasopened immediately,andthefigureofatallwomanwasout- linedagainstthedim-lithall.</s>“Well, what do you want?” she asked sharply, peeringatusthroughthedarkness.</s>“IwanttospeaktoDr.Shlessinger,”saidHolmes.</s>“Thereisnosuchpersonhere,”sheanswered,and tried to close the door, but Holmes had jammed it withhisfoot.“Well,Iwanttoseethemanwholiveshere,what- everhemaycallhimself,”saidHolmesfirmly.</s>She hesitated. Then she threw open the door.</s>“Well,comein!”saidshe. “Myhusbandisnotafraid to face any man in the world.” She closed the door behindusandshowedusintoasitting-roomonthe rightsideofthehall,turningupthegasassheleftus.</s>“Mr.Peterswillbewithyouinaninstant,”shesaid.</s>Herwordswereliterallytrue,forwehadhardly timetolookaroundthedustyandmoth-eatenapart- ment in which we found ourselves before the door opened and a big, clean-shaven bald-headed man stepped lightly into the room. He had a large red face,withpendulouscheeks,andageneralairofsu- perficial benevolence which was marred by a cruel, viciousmouth.</s>“There is surely some mistake here, gentlemen,” hesaidinanunctuous,make-everything-easyvoice.</s>“I fancy that you have been misdirected. Possibly if youtriedfartherdownthestreet—” “That will do; we have no time to waste,” said my companion firmly. “You are Henry Peters, of Adelaide,latetheRev.Dr.Shlessinger,ofBadenand SouthAmerica. Iamassureofthatasthatmyown nameisSherlockHolmes.” Peters, asIwillnowcallhim, startedandstared hardathisformidablepursuer. “Iguessyourname does not frighten me, Mr. Holmes,” said he coolly.</s>“Whenaman’sconscienceiseasyyoucan’trattlehim.</s>Whatisyourbusinessinmyhouse?” “I want to know what you have done with the LadyFrancesCarfax,whomyoubroughtawaywith youfromBaden.” “I’dbeverygladifyoucouldtellmewherethat lady may be,” Peters answered coolly. “I’ve a bill againstherforanearlyahundredpounds,andnoth- ingtoshowforitbutacoupleoftrumperypendants that the dealer would hardly look at. She attached herself to Mrs. Peters and me at Baden—it is a fact thatIwasusinganothernameatthetime—andshe stuck on to us until we came to London. I paid her billandherticket. OnceinLondon,shegaveusthe slip,and,asIsay,lefttheseout-of-datejewelstopay her bills. You find her, Mr. Holmes, and I’m your debtor.” Inmeantofindher,“saidSherlockHolmes. ”I’m goingthroughthishousetillIdofindher.“ “Whereisyourwarrant?” Holmes half drew a revolver from his pocket.</s>“Thiswillhavetoservetillabetteronecomes.” “Why,you’reacommonburglar.” “Soyoumightdescribeme,”saidHolmescheer- fully. “My companion is also a dangerous ruffian.</s>Andtogetherwearegoingthroughyourhouse.” Ouropponentopenedthedoor.</s>“Fetchapoliceman,Annie!”saidhe. Therewasa whisk of feminine skirts down the passage, and the halldoorwasopenedandshut.</s>“Our time is limited, Watson,” said Holmes. “If youtrytostopus,Peters,youwillmostcertainlyget hurt. Where is that coffin which was brought into yourhouse?” “What do you want with the coffin? It is in use.</s>Thereisabodyinit.” “Imustseethebody.” “Neverwithmyconsent.” “Then without it.” With a quick movement Holmes pushed the fellow to one side and passed intothehall. Adoorhalfopenedstoodimmediately beforeus. Weentered. Itwasthedining-room. Onthe table,underahalf-litchandelier,thecoffinwaslying.</s>Holmes turned up the gas and raised the lid. Deep downintherecessesofthecoffinlayanemaciatedfig- ure. Theglarefromthelightsabovebeatdownupon an aged and withered face. By no possible process of cruelty, starvation, or disease could this wornout wreck be the still beautiful Lady Frances. Holmes’s faceshowedhisamazement,andalsohisrelief.</s>“ThankGod!”hemuttered. “It’ssomeoneelse.” “Ah, you’ve blundered badly for once, Mr. Sher- lockHolmes,”saidPeters,whohadfollowedusinto theroom.</s>“Whoisthedeadwoman?” “Well,ifyoureallymustknow,sheisanoldnurse ofmywife’s,RoseSpenderbyname,whomwefound intheBrixtonWorkhouseInfirmary. Webroughther roundhere, calledinDr.Horsom, of13FirbankVil- las—mind you take the address, Mr. Holmes—and had her carefully tended, as Christian folk should.</s>On the third day she died—certificate says senile decay—but that’s only the doctor’s opinion, and of course you know better. We ordered her funeral to becarriedoutbyStimsonandCo.,oftheKennington Road,whowillburyherateighto’clockto-morrow morning. Canyoupickanyholeinthat,Mr.Holmes? You’ve made a silly blunder, and you may as well ownuptoit. I’dgivesomethingforaphotographof yourgaping,staringfacewhenyoupulledasidethat lidexpectingtoseetheLadyFrancesCarfaxandonly foundapooroldwomanofninety.”Holmes’sexpressionwasasimpassiveaseverun- derthejeersofhisantagonist,buthisclenchedhands betrayedhisacuteannoyance.</s>“Iamgoingthroughyourhouse,”saidhe.</s>“Are you, though!” cried Peters as a woman’s voiceandheavystepssoundedinthepassage. “We’ll soonseeaboutthat. Thisway,officers,ifyouplease.</s>Thesemenhaveforcedtheirwayintomyhouse,and Icannotgetridofthem. Helpmetoputthemout.” Asergeantandaconstablestoodinthedoorway.</s>Holmesdrewhiscardfromhiscase.</s>“Thisismynameandaddress. Thisismyfriend, Dr.Watson.” “Blessyou,sir,weknowyouverywell,”saidthe sergeant,“butyoucan’tstayherewithoutawarrant.” “Ofcoursenot. Iquiteunderstandthat.” “Arresthim!”criedPeters.</s>“Weknowwheretolayourhandsonthisgentle- man if he is wanted,” said the sergeant majestically, “butyou’llhavetogo,Mr.Holmes.” “Yes,Watson,weshallhavetogo.” A minute later we were in the street once more.</s>Holmeswasascoolasever,butIwashotwithanger andhumiliation. Thesergeanthadfollowedus.</s>“Sorry,Mr.Holmes,butthat’sthelaw.” “Exactly,Sergeant,youcouldnotdootherwise.” “Iexpecttherewasgoodreasonforyourpresence there. IfthereisanythingIcando—” “It’samissinglady,Sergeant,andwethinksheis inthathouse. Iexpectawarrantpresently.” “ThenI’llkeepmyeyeontheparties,Mr.Holmes.</s>Ifanythingcomesalong,Iwillsurelyletyouknow.” Itwasonlynineo’clock,andwewereofffullcry uponthetrailatonce. FirstwedrovetoBrixtonWork- housedInfirmary,wherewefoundthatitwasindeed the truth that a charitable couple had called some days before, that they had claimed an imbecile old woman as a former servant, and that they had ob- tained permission to take her away with them. No surprisewasexpressedatthenewsthatshehadsince died.</s>Thedoctorwasournextgoal. Hehadbeencalled in,hadfoundthewomandyingofpuresenility,had actuallyseenherpassaway,andhadsignedthecer- tificate in due form. “I assure you that everything wasperfectlynormalandtherewasnoroomforfoul play in the matter,” said he. Nothing in the house hadstruckhimassuspicioussavethatforpeopleof theirclassitwasremarkablethattheyshouldhaveno servant. Sofarandnofurtherwentthedoctor.</s>FinallywefoundourwaytoScotlandYard. There had been difficulties of procedure in regard to the warrant. Somedelaywasinevitable. Themagistrate’s signaturemightnotbeobtaineduntilnextmorning.</s>If Holmes would call about nine he could go down with Lestrade and see it acted upon. So ended the day,savethatnearmidnightourfriend,thesergeant, called to say that he had seen flickering lights here and there in the windows of the great dark house, butthatnoonehadleftitandnonehadentered. We couldbutprayforpatienceandwaitforthemorrow.</s>SherlockHolmeswastooirritableforconversation and too restless for sleep. I left him smoking hard, withhisheavy,darkbrowsknottedtogether,andhis long, nervous fingers tapping upon the arms of his chair, as he turned over in his mind every possible solution of the mystery. Several times in the course of the night I heard him prowling about the house.</s>Finally,justafterIhadbeencalledinthemorning,he rushedintomyroom. Hewasinhisdressing-gown, buthispale,hollow-eyedfacetoldmethathisnight hadbeenasleeplessone.</s>“What time was the funeral? Eight, was it not?” heaskedeagerly. “Well,itis7.20now. Goodheavens, Watson,whathasbecomeofanybrainsthatGodhas given me? Quick, man, quick! It’s life or death—a hundred chances on death to one on life. I’ll never forgivemyself,never,ifwearetoolate!” Fiveminuteshadnotpassedbeforewewereflying in a hansom down Baker Street. But even so it was twenty-fivetoeightaswepassedBigBen,andeight struckaswetoredowntheBrixtonRoad. Butothers werelateaswellaswe. Tenminutesafterthehourthe hearsewasstillstandingatthedoorofthehouse,and even as our foaming horse came to a halt the coffin, supportedbythreemen,appearedonthethreshold.</s>Holmesdartedforwardandbarredtheirway.</s>“Take it back!” he cried, laying his hand on the breastoftheforemost. “Takeitbackthisinstant!” “What the devil do you mean? Once again I ask you,whereisyourwarrant?”shoutedthefuriousPe- ters, his big red face glaring over the farther end of thecoffin.</s>“Thewarrantisonitsway. Thecoffinshallremain inthehouseuntilitcomes.” TheauthorityinHolmes’svoicehaditseffectupon the bearers. Peters had suddenly vanished into the house, and they obeyed these new orders. “Quick, Watson,quick! Hereisascrew-driver!”heshoutedasthe coffin was replaced upon the table. “Here’s one foryou,myman! Asovreignifthelidcomesoffina minute! Asknoquestions—workaway! That’sgood! Another! And another! Now pull all together! It’s giving! It’sgiving! Ah,thatdoesitatlast.” Withaunitedeffortwetoreoffthecoffin-lid. As we did so there came from the inside a stupefying and overpowering smell of chloroform. A body lay within, its head all wreathed in cotton-wool, which hadbeensoakedinthenarcotic. Holmespluckedit offanddisclosedthestatuesquefaceofahandsome andspiritualwomanofmiddleage. Inaninstanthe hadpassedhisarmroundthefigureandraisedher toasittingposition.</s>“Isshegone,Watson? Isthereasparkleft? Surely wearenottoolate!” For half an hour it seemed that we were. What withactualsuffocation,andwhatwiththepoisonous fumes of the chloroform, the Lady Frances seemed to have passed the last point of recall. And then, at last,withartificialrespiration,withinjectedether,and with every device that science could suggest, some flutter of life, some quiver of the eyelids, some dim- ming of a mirror, spoke of the slowly returning life.</s>Acabhaddrivenup,andHolmes,partingtheblind, lookedoutatit. “HereisLestradewithhiswarrant,” saidhe. “Hewillfindthathisbirdshaveflown. And here,” he added as a heavy step hurried along the passage,“issomeonewhohasabetterrighttonurse thisladythanwehave. Goodmorning,Mr.Green;I thinkthatthesoonerwecanmovetheLadyFrances thebetter. Meanwhile,thefuneralmayproceed,and thepooroldwomanwhostillliesinthatcoffinmay gotoherlastresting-placealone.” “Shouldyoucaretoaddthecasetoyourannals, mydearWatson,”saidHolmesthatevening,“itcan only be as an example of that temporary eclipse to whicheventhebest-balancedmindmaybeexposed.</s>Suchslipsarecommontoallmortals,andthegreatest is he who can recognize and repair them. To this modifiedcreditImay,perhaps,makesomeclaim. My nightwashauntedbythethoughtthatsomewherea clue, a strange sentence, a curious observation, had come under my notice and had been too easily dis- missed. Then,suddenly,inthegrayofthemorning, the words came back to me. It was the remark of the undertaker’s wife, as reported by Philip Green.</s>Shehadsaid,‘Itshouldbetherebeforenow. Ittook longer, being out of the ordinary.’ It was the coffin ofwhichshespoke. Ithadbeenoutoftheordinary.</s>Thatcouldonlymeanthatithadbeenmadetosome special measurement. But why? Why? Then in an instant I remembered the deep sides, and the little wasted figure at the bottom. Why so large a coffin forsosmallabody? Toleaveroomforanotherbody.</s>Bothwouldbeburiedundertheonecertificate. Ithad allbeensoclear,ifonlymyownsighthadnotbeen dimmed. AteighttheLadyFranceswouldbeburied.</s>Our one chance was to stop the coffin before it left thehouse.</s>“It was a desperate chance that we might find her alive, but it was a chance, as the result showed.</s>These people had never, to my knowledge, done a murder. They might shrink from actual violence at thelast. Thecouldburyherwithnosignofhowshe metherend,andevenifshewereexhumedtherewas achanceforthem. Ihopedthatsuchconsiderations might prevail with them. You can reconstruct the scenewellenough. Yousawthehorribledenupstairs, where the poor lady had been kept so long. They rushedinandoverpoweredherwiththeirchloroform, carriedherdown,pouredmoreintothecoffintoin- sureagainstherwaking,andthenscreweddownthe lid. A clever device, Watson. It is new to me in the annalsofcrime. Ifourex-missionaryfriendsescape theclutchesofLestrade,Ishallexpecttohearofsome brilliantincidentsintheirfuturecareer.”n recording from time to time some of thecuriousexperiencesandinterestingrec- ollections which I associate with my long I andintimatefriendshipwithMr.Sherlock Holmes,Ihavecontinuallybeenfacedbydifficulties causedbyhisownaversiontopublicity. Tohissom- breandcynicalspiritallpopularapplausewasalways abhorrent,andnothingamusedhimmoreattheend of a successful case than to hand over the actual ex- posure to some orthodox official, and to listen with amockingsmiletothegeneralchorusofmisplaced congratulation. Itwasindeedthisattitudeuponthe part of my friend and certainly not any lack of in- terestingmaterialwhichhascausedmeoflateyears tolayveryfewofmyrecordsbeforethepublic. My participation in some if his adventures was always a privilege which entailed discretion and reticence uponme.</s>Itwas,then,withconsiderablesurprisethatIre- ceivedatelegramfromHomeslastTuesday—hehas neverbeenknowntowritewhereatelegramwould serve—inthefollowingterms: Why not tell them of the Cornish hor- ror—strangestcaseIhavehandled.</s>Ihavenoideawhatbackwardsweepofmemory had brought the matter fresh to his mind, or what freakhadcausedhimtodesirethatIshouldrecount it; but I hasten, before another cancelling telegram mayarrive,tohuntoutthenoteswhichgivemethe exactdetailsofthecaseandtolaythenarrativebefore myreaders.</s>It was, then, in the spring of the year 1897 that Holmes’sironconstitutionshowedsomesymptoms of giving way in the face of constant hard work of a most exacting kind, aggravated, perhaps, by occa- sionalindiscretionsofhisown. InMarchofthatyear Dr. Moore Agar, of Harley Street, whose dramatic introductiontoHolmesImaysomedayrecount,gave positiveinjunctionsthatthefamousprivateagentlay asideallhiscasesandsurrenderhimselftocomplete rest if he wished to avert an absolute breakdown.</s>Thestateofhishealthwasnotamatterinwhichhe himself took the faintest interest, for his mental de- tachment was absolute, but he was induced at last, onthethreatofbeingpermanentlydisqualifiedfrom work,togivehimselfacompletechangeofsceneand air. Thus it was that in the early spring of that year we found ourselves together in a small cottage near Poldhu Bay, at the further extremity of the Cornish peninsula.</s>It was a singular spot, and one peculiarly well suited to the grim humour of my patient. From thewindowsofourlittlewhitewashedhouse,which stoodhighuponagrassyheadland,welookeddown upon the whole sinister semicircle of Mounts Bay, that old death trap of sailing vessels, with its fringe of black cliffs and surge-swept reefs on which innu- merableseamenhavemettheirend. Withanortherly breezeitliesplacidandsheltered,invitingthestorm- tossedcrafttotackintoitforrestandprotection.</s>Then come the sudden swirl round of the wind, theblisteringgalefromthesouth-west,thedragging anchor,theleeshore,andthelastbattleinthecream- ing breakers. The wise mariner stands far out from thatevilplace.</s>Onthelandsideoursurroundingswereassom- bre as on the sea. It was a country of rolling moors, lonely and dun-colored, with an occasional church towertomarkthesiteofsomeold-worldvillage. In everydirectionuponthesemoorsthereweretracesof some vanished race which had passed utterly away, andleftasitsolerecordstrangemonumentsofstone, irregularmoundswhichcontainedtheburnedashes of the dead, and curious earthworks which hinted at prehistoric strife. The glamour and mystery of the place, with its sinister atmosphere of forgotten nations, appealed to the imagination of my friend, and he spent much of his time in long walks and solitarymeditationsuponthemoor. TheancientCor- nish language had also arrested his attention, and he had, I remember, conceived the idea that it was akin to the Chaldean, and had been largely derived fromthePhoeniciantradersintin. Hehadreceived aconsignmentofbooksuponphilologyandwasset- tlingdowntodevelopthisthesiswhensuddenly,to my sorrow and to his unfeigned delight, we found ourselves,eveninthatlandofdreams,plungedinto aproblematourverydoorswhichwasmoreintense, moreengrossing,andinfinitelymoremysteriousthan anyofthosewhichhaddrivenusfromLondon. Our simple life and peaceful, healthy routine were vio- lentlyinterrupted,andwewereprecipitatedintothe midstofaseriesofeventswhichcausedtheutmost excitementnotonlyinCornwallbutthroughoutthe whole west of England. Many of my readers may retain some recollection of what was called at the time“TheCornishHorror,”thoughamostimperfect accountofthematterreachedtheLondonpress. Now, afterthirteenyears,Iwillgivethetruedetailsofthis inconceivableaffairtothepublic.</s>I have said that scattered towers marked the vil- lageswhichdottedthispartofCornwall. ThenearestofthesewasthehamletofTredannickWollas,where thecottagesofacoupleofhundredinhabitantsclus- tered round an ancient, moss-grown church. The vicaroftheparish,Mr.Roundhay,wassomethingof anarchaeologist,andassuchHolmeshadmadehis acquaintance. Hewasamiddle-agedman,portlyand affable,withaconsiderablefundoflocallore. Athis invitation we had taken tea at the vicarage and had cometoknow,also,Mr.MortimerTregennis,aninde- pendent gentleman, who increased the clergyman’s scantyresourcesbytakingroomsinhislarge,strag- glinghouse. Thevicar,beingabachelor,wasgladto cometosuchanarrangement,thoughhehadlittlein commonwithhislodger,whowasathin,dark,spec- tacledman,withastoopwhichgavetheimpression ofactual,physicaldeformity. Irememberthatduring ourshortvisitwefoundthevicargarrulous,buthis lodger strangely reticent, a sad-faced, introspective man,sittingwithavertedeyes,broodingapparently uponhisownaffairs.</s>These were the two men who entered abruptly into our little sitting-room on Tuesday, March the 16th, shortly after our breakfast hour, as we were smokingtogether,preparatorytoourdailyexcursion uponthemoors.</s>“Mr.Holmes,”saidthevicarinanagitatedvoice, “themostextraordinaryandtragicaffairhasoccurred duringthenight. Itisthemostunheard-ofbusiness.</s>We can only regard it as a special Providence that you should chance to be here at the time, for in all Englandyouaretheonemanweneed.” Iglaredattheintrusivevicarwithnoveryfriendly eyes;butHolmestookhispipefromhislipsandsat upinhischairlikeanoldhoundwhohearstheview- halloa. He waved his hand to the sofa, and our pal- pitatingvisitorwithhisagitatedcompanionsatside by side upon it. Mr. Mortimer Tregennis was more self-containedthantheclergyman,butthetwitching ofhisthinhandsandthebrightnessofhisdarkeyes showedthattheysharedacommonemotion.</s>“ShallIspeakoryou?”heaskedofthevicar.</s>“Well, as you seem to have made the discovery, whatever it may be, and the vicar to have had it second-hand, perhaps you had better do the speak- ing,”saidHolmes.</s>Iglanced atthehastilyclad clergyman, withthe formallydressedlodgerseatedbesidehim,andwas amused at the surprise which Holmes’s simple de- ductionhadbroughttotheirfaces.</s>“PerhapsIhadbestsayafewwordsfirst,”saidthe vicar,“andthenyoucanjudgeifyouwilllistentothe detailsfromMr.Tregennis,orwhetherweshouldnot hasten at once to the scene of this mysterious affair.</s>I may explain, then, that our friend here spent last evening in the company of his two brothers, Owen andGeorge,andofhissisterBrenda,attheirhouseof TredannickWartha,whichisneartheoldstonecross uponthemoor. Heleftthemshortlyafterteno’clock, playingcardsroundthedining-roomtable,inexcel- lenthealthandspirits. Thismorning,beinganearly riser,hewalkedinthatdirectionbeforebreakfastand was overtaken by the carriage of Dr. Richards, who explained that he had just been sent for on a most urgentcalltoTredannickWartha. Mr.MortimerTre- gennisnaturallywentwithhim. Whenhearrivedat Tredannick Wartha he found an extraordinary state ofthings. Histwobrothersandhissisterwereseated roundthetableexactlyashehadleftthem,thecards stillspreadinfrontofthemandthecandlesburned downtotheirsockets. Thesisterlaybackstone-dead inherchair,whilethetwobrotherssatoneachside of her laughing, shouting, and singing, the senses stricken clean out of them. All three of them, the dead woman and the two demented men, retained upon their faces an expression of the utmost hor- ror—a convulsion of terror which was dreadful to lookupon. Therewasnosignofthepresenceofany- oneinthehouse,exceptMrs.Porter,theoldcookand housekeeper,whodeclaredthatshehadsleptdeeply andheard nosoundduringthenight. Nothing had been stolen or disarranged, and there is absolutely noexplanationofwhatthehorrorcanbewhichhas frightenedawomantodeathandtwostrongmenout oftheirsenses. Thereisthesituation,Mr.Holmes,in a nutshell, and if you can help us to clear it up you willhavedoneagreatwork.” I had hoped that in some way I could coax my companion back into the quiet which had been the object of our journey; but one glance at his intense faceandcontractedeyebrowstoldmehowvainwas now the expectation. He sat for some little time in silence, absorbed in the strange drama which had brokeninuponourpeace.</s>“Iwilllookintothismatter,”hesaidatlast. “On the face of it, it would appear to be a case of a very exceptionalnature. Haveyoubeenthereyourself,Mr.</s>Roundhay?” “No,Mr.Holmes. Mr.Tregennisbroughtbackthe account to the vicarage, and I at once hurried over withhimtoconsultyou.” “How far is it to the house where this singular tragedyoccurred?” “Aboutamileinland.”“Thenweshallwalkovertogether. Butbeforewe start I must ask you a few questions, Mr. Mortimer Tregennis.” Theotherhadbeensilentallthistime,butIhad observed that his more controlled excitement was even greater than the obtrusive emotion of the cler- gyman. He sat with a pale, drawn face, his anxious gazefixeduponHolmes,andhisthinhandsclasped convulsively together. His pale lips quivered as he listened to the dreadful experience which had be- fallenhisfamily,andhisdarkeyesseemedtoreflect somethingofthehorrorofthescene.</s>“Askwhatyoulike,Mr.Holmes,”saidheeagerly.</s>“It is a bad thing to speak of, but I will answer you thetruth.” “Tellmeaboutlastnight.” “Well, Mr. Holmes, I supped there, as the vicar has said, and my elder brother George proposed a game of whist afterwards. We sat down about nine o’clock. Itwasaquarter-pasttenwhenImovedtogo.</s>Ileftthemallroundthetable,asmerryascouldbe.” “Wholetyouout?” “Mrs.Porterhadgonetobed,soIletmyselfout.</s>I shut the hall door behind me. The window of the roominwhichtheysatwasclosed,buttheblindwas not drawn down. There was no change in door or windowthismorning,oranyreasontothinkthatany stranger had been to the house. Yet there they sat, drivencleanmadwithterror,andBrendalyingdead offright,withherheadhangingoverthearmofthe chair. I’llnevergetthesightofthatroomoutofmy mindsolongasIlive.” “The facts, as you state them, are certainly most remarkable,” said Holmes. “I take it that you have notheoryyourselfwhichcaninanywayaccountfor them?” “It’s devilish, Mr. Holmes, devilish!” cried Mor- timer Tregennis. “It is not of this world. Something hascomeintothatroomwhichhasdashedthelight ofreasonfromtheirminds. Whathumancontrivance coulddothat?” “Ifear,”saidHolmes,“thatifthematterisbeyond humanity it is certainly beyond me. Yet we must exhaust all natural explanations before we fall back uponsuchatheoryasthis. Astoyourself,Mr.Tregen- nis,Itakeityouweredividedinsomewayfromyour family,sincetheylivedtogetherandyouhadrooms apart?” “Thatisso,Mr.Holmes,thoughthematterispast and done with. We were a family of tin-miners at Redruth,butwesoldourventuretoacompany,and so retired with enough to keep us. I won’t deny thattherewassomefeelingaboutthedivisionofthe moneyanditstoodbetweenusforatime,butitwas all forgiven and forgotten, and we were the best of friendstogether.” “Looking back at the evening which you spent together,doesanythingstandoutinyourmemoryas throwinganypossiblelightuponthetragedy? Think carefully,Mr.Tregennis,foranycluewhichcanhelp me.” “Thereisnothingatall,sir.” “Yourpeoplewereintheirusualspirits?” “Neverbetter.” “Weretheynervouspeople? Didtheyevershow anyapprehensionofcomingdanger?” “Nothingofthekind.” “Youhavenothingtoaddthen,whichcouldassist me?” MortimerTregennisconsideredearnestlyforamo- ment.</s>“Thereisonethingoccurstome,”saidheatlast.</s>“As we sat at the table my back was to the window, andmybrotherGeorge,hebeingmypartneratcards, wasfacingit. Isawhimoncelookhardovermyshoul- der, so I turned round and looked also. The blind wasupandthewindowshut,butIcouldjustmake outthebushesonthelawn,anditseemedtomefor amomentthatIsawsomethingmovingamongthem.</s>Icouldn’tevensayifitwasmanoranimal,butIjust thought there was something there. When I asked himwhathewaslookingat,hetoldmethathehad thesamefeeling. ThatisallthatIcansay.” “Didyounotinvestigate?” “No;thematterpassedasunimportant.” “Youleftthem,then,withoutanypremonitionof evil?” “Noneatall.” “Iamnotclearhowyoucametohearthenewsso earlythismorning.” “I am an early riser and generally take a walk beforebreakfast. ThismorningIhadhardlystarted whenthedoctorinhiscarriageovertookme. Hetold methatoldMrs.Porterhadsentaboydownwithan urgentmessage. Ispranginbesidehimandwedrove on. Whenwegottherewelookedintothatdreadful room. Thecandlesandthefiremusthaveburnedout hours before, and they had been sitting there in the darkuntildawnhadbroken. ThedoctorsaidBrenda must have been dead at least six hours. There were nosignsofviolence. Shejustlayacrossthearmofthechair with that look on her face. George and Owen weresingingsnatchesofsongsandgibberingliketwo greatapes. Oh,itwasawfultosee! Icouldn’tstand it,andthedoctorwasaswhiteasasheet. Indeed,he fellintoachairinasortoffaint,andwenearlyhad himonourhandsaswell.” “Remarkable—most remarkable!” said Holmes, rising and taking his hat. “I think, perhaps, we had better go down to Tredannick Wartha without fur- ther delay. I confess that I have seldom known a case which at first sight presented a more singular problem.” Ourproceedingsofthatfirstmorningdidlittleto advance the investigation. It was marked, however, attheoutsetbyanincidentwhichleftthemostsinis- terimpressionuponmymind. Theapproachtothe spotatwhichthetragedyoccurredisdownanarrow, winding,countrylane. Whilewemadeourwayalong it we heard the rattle of a carriage coming towards us and stood aside to let it pass. As it drove by us I caught a glimpse through the closed window of a horribly contorted, grinning face glaring out at us.</s>Thosestaringeyesandgnashingteethflashedpastus likeadreadfulvision.</s>“My brothers!” cried Mortimer Tregennis, white tohislips. “TheyaretakingthemtoHelston.” We looked with horror after the black carriage, lumbering upon its way. Then we turned our steps towardsthisill-omenedhouseinwhichtheyhadmet theirstrangefate.</s>It was a large and bright dwelling, rather a villa thanacottage,withaconsiderablegardenwhichwas already, in that Cornish air, well filled with spring flowers. Towards this garden the window of the sitting-roomfronted,andfromit,accordingtoMor- timer Tregennis, must have come that thing of evil whichhadbysheerhorrorinasingleinstantblasted theirminds. Holmeswalkedslowlyandthoughtfully amongtheflower-plotsandalongthepathbeforewe enteredtheporch. Soabsorbedwasheinhisthoughts, Iremember,thathestumbledoverthewatering-pot, upsetitscontents,anddelugedbothourfeetandthe garden path. Inside the house we were met by the elderlyCornishhousekeeper,Mrs.Porter,who,with theaidofayounggirl,lookedafterthewantsofthe family. ShereadilyansweredallHolmes’squestions.</s>She had heard nothing in the night. Her employers had all been in excellent spirits lately, and she had neverknownthemmorecheerfulandprosperous. She had fainted with horror upon entering the room in themorningandseeingthatdreadfulcompanyround thetable. Shehad,whensherecovered,thrownopen the window to let the morning air in, and had run downtothelane,whenceshesentafarm-ladforthe doctor. Theladywasonherbedupstairsifwecared toseeher. Ittookfourstrongmentogetthebrothers intotheasylumcarriage. Shewouldnotherselfstay inthehouseanotherdayandwasstartingthatvery afternoontorejoinherfamilyatSt.Ives.</s>Weascendedthestairsandviewedthebody. Miss Brenda Tregennis had been a very beautiful girl, though now verging upon middle age. Her dark, clear-cutfacewashandsome,evenindeath,butthere still lingered upon it something of that convulsion of horror which had been her last human emotion.</s>Fromherbedroomwedescendedtothesitting-room, wherethisstrangetragedyhadactuallyoccurred. The charred ashes of the overnight fire lay in the grate.</s>Onthetablewerethefourgutteredandburned-out candles,withthecardsscatteredoveritssurface. The chairs had been moved back against the walls, but allelsewasasithadbeenthenightbefore. Holmes paced with light, swift steps about the room; he sat in the various chairs, drawing them up and recon- structingtheirpositions. Hetestedhowmuchofthe gardenwasvisible;heexaminedthefloor,theceiling, and the fireplace; but never once did I see that sud- denbrighteningofhiseyesandtighteningofhislips which would have told me that he saw some gleam oflightinthisutterdarkness.</s>“Whyafire?”heaskedonce. “Hadtheyalwaysa fireinthissmallroomonaspringevening?” MortimerTregennisexplainedthatthenightwas cold and damp. For that reason, after his arrival, thefirewaslit. “Whatareyougoingtodonow,Mr.</s>Holmes?”heasked.</s>Myfriendsmiledandlaidhishanduponmyarm.</s>“I think, Watson, that I shall resume that course of tobacco-poisoning which you have so often and so justlycondemned,”saidhe. “Withyourpermission, gentlemen, we will now return to our cottage, for I amnotawarethatanynewfactorislikelytocometo ournoticehere. Iwillturnthefactsoverinmymid, Mr,Tregennis,andshouldanythingoccurtomeIwill certainlyommunicatewithyouandthevicar. Inthe meantimeIwishyoubothgood-morning.” ItwasnotuntillongafterwewerebackinPoldhu CottagethatHolmesbrokehiscompleteandabsorbed silence. He sat coiled in his armchair, his haggard and ascetic face hardly visible amid the blue swirl of his tobacco smoke, his black brows drawn down, hisforeheadcontracted,hiseyesvacantandfaraway.</s>Finallyhelaiddownhispipeandsprangtohisfeet.“Itwon’tdo,Watson!”saidhewithalaugh. “Let uswalkalongthecliffstogetherandsearchforflint arrows. We are more likely to find them than clues tothisproblem. Toletthebrainworkwithoutsuffi- cientmaterialislikeracinganengine. Itracksitself to pieces. The sea air, sunshine, and patience, Wat- son—allelsewillcome.</s>“Now,letuscalmlydefineourposition,Watson,” hecontinuedasweskirtedthecliffstogether. “Letus get a firm grip of the very little which we do know, sothatwhenfreshfactsarisewemaybereadytofit themintotheirplaces. Itakeit,inthefirstplace,that neitherofusispreparedtoadmitdiabolicalintrusions into the affairs of men. Let us begin by ruling that entirelyoutofourminds. Verygood. Thereremain threepersonswhohavebeengrievouslystrickenby someconsciousorunconscioushumanagency. That isfirmground. Now,whendidthisoccur? Evidently, assuminghisnarrativetobetrue,itwasimmediately afterMr.MortimerTregennishadlefttheroom. That is a very important point. The presumption is that it was within a few minutes afterwards. The cards stilllayuponthetable. Itwasalreadypasttheirusual hourforbed. Yettheyhadnotchangedtheirposition or pushed back their chairs. I repeat, then, that the occurrencewasimmediatelyafterhisdeparture,and notlaterthaneleveno’clocklastnight.</s>“Our next obvious step is to check, so far as we can, the movements of Mortimer Tregennis after he left the room. In this there is no difficulty, and they seemtobeabovesuspicion. Knowingmymethodsas you do, you were, of course, conscious of the some- whatclumsywater-potexpedientbywhichIobtained a clearer impress of his foot than might otherwise have been possible. The wet, sandy path took it ad- mirably. Lastnightwasalsowet,youwillremember, and it was not difficult—having obtained a sample print—topickouthistrackamongothersandtofol- lowhismovements. Heappearstohavewalkedaway swiftlyinthedirectionofthevicarage.</s>“If, then, Mortimer Tregennis disappeared from the scene, and yet some outside person affected the card-players,howcanwereconstructthatperson,and howwassuchanimpressionofhorrorconveyed? Mrs.</s>Portermaybeeliminated. Sheisevidentlyharmless.</s>Is there any evidence that someone crept up to the garden window and in some manner produced so terrific an effect that he drove those who saw it out oftheirsenses? Theonlysuggestioninthisdirection comes from Mortimer Tregennis himself, who says thathisbrotherspokeaboutsomemovementinthe garden. That is certainly remarkable, as the night was rainy, cloudy, and dark. Anyone who had the designtoalarmthesepeoplewouldbecompelledto placehisveryfaceagainsttheglassbeforehecould be seen. There is a three-foot flower-border outside this window, but no indication of a footmark. It is difficulttoimagine,then,howanoutsidercouldhave made so terrible an impression upon the company, norhavewefoundanypossiblemotiveforsostrange and elaborate an attempt. You perceive our difficul- ties,Watson?” “Theyareonlytooclear,”Iansweredwithconvic- tion.</s>“And yet, with a little more material, we may provethattheyarenotinsurmountable,”saidHolmes.</s>“Ifancythatamongyourextensivearchives,Watson, you may find some which were nearly as obscure.</s>Meanwhile, we shall put the case aside until more accuratedataareavailable,anddevotetherestofour morningtothepursuitofneolithicman.” I may have commented upon my friend’s power ofmentaldetachment,butneverhaveIwonderedat itmorethanuponthatspringmorninginCornwall whenfortwohourshediscourseduponcelts,arrow- heads,andshards,aslightlyasifnosinistermystery werewaitingforhissolution. Itwasnotuntilwehad returnedintheafternoontoourcottagethatwefound a visitor awaiting us, who soon brought our minds back to the matter in hand. Neither of us needed to be told who that visitor was. The huge body, the craggy and deeply seamed face with the fierce eyes and hawk-like nose, the grizzled hair which nearly brushedourcottageceiling,thebeard—goldenatthe fringesandwhitenearthelips,saveforthenicotine stainfromhisperpetualcigar—allthesewereaswell knowninLondonasinAfrica,andcouldonlybeas- sociatedwiththetremendouspersonalityofDr.Leon Sterndale,thegreatlion-hunterandexplorer.</s>We had heard of his presence in the district and hadonceortwicecaughtsightofhistallfigureupon the moorland paths. He made no advances to us, however, nor would we have dreamed of doing so to him, as it was well known that it was his love of seclusion which caused him to spend the greater partoftheintervalsbetweenhisjourneysinasmall bungalow buried in the lonely wood of Beauchamp Arriance. Here,amidhisbooksandhismaps,helived anabsolutelylonelylife,attendingtohisownsimple wantsandpayinglittleapparentheedtotheaffairsof hisneighbours. Itwasasurprisetome,therefore,to hearhimaskingHolmesinaneagervoicewhetherhe had made any advance in his reconstruction of this mysteriousepisode. “Thecountypoliceareutterlyatfault,” said he, “but perhaps your wider experience hassuggestedsomeconceivableexplanation. Myonly claimtobeingtakenintoyourconfidenceisthatdur- ing my many residences here I have come to know thisfamilyofTregennisverywell—indeed,uponmy Cornishmother’ssideIcouldcallthemcousins—and theirstrangefatehasnaturallybeenagreatshockto me. ImaytellyouthatIhadgotasfarasPlymouth uponmywaytoAfrica,butthenewsreachedmethis morning, and I came straight back again to help in theinquiry.” Holmesraisedhiseyebrows.</s>“Didyouloseyourboatthroughit?” “Iwilltakethenext.” “Dearme! thatisfriendshipindeed.” “Itellyoutheywererelatives.” “Quiteso—cousinsofyourmother. Wasyourbag- gageaboardtheship?” “Someofit,butthemainpartatthehotel.” “Isee. Butsurelythiseventcouldnothavefound itswayintothePlymouthmorningpapers.” “No,sir;Ihadatelegram.” “MightIaskfromwhom?” A shadow passed over the gaunt face of the ex- plorer.</s>“Youareveryinquisitive,Mr.Holmes.” “Itismybusiness.” WithaneffortDr.Sterndalerecoveredhisruffled composure.</s>“I have no objection to telling you,” he said. “It was Mr. Roundhay, the vicar, who sent me the tele- gramwhichrecalledme.” “Thankyou,”saidHolmes. “Imaysayinanswer toyouroriginalquestionthatIhavenotclearedmy mind entirely on the subject of this case, but that I have every hope of reaching some conclusion. It wouldbeprematuretosaymore.” “Perhapsyouwouldnotmindtellingmeifyour suspicionspointinanyparticulardirection?” “No,Icanhardlyanswerthat.” “Then I have wasted my time and need not pro- longmyvisit.”Thefamousdoctorstrodeoutofour cottage in considerable ill-humour, and within five minutes Holmes had followed him. I saw him no moreuntiltheevening,whenhereturnedwithaslow stepandhaggardfacewhichassuredmethathehad made no great progress with his investigation. He glancedatatelegramwhichawaitedhimandthrew itintothegrate.</s>“From the Plymouth hotel, Watson,” he said. “I learnedthenameofitfromthevicar,andIwiredto make certain that Dr. Leon Sterndale’s account was true. It appears that he did indeed spend last night there, and that he has actually allowed some of his baggage to go on to Africa, while he returned to be present at this investigation. What do you make of that,Watson?” “Heisdeeplyinterested.” “Deeply interested—yes. There is a thread here whichwehadnotyetgraspedandwhichmightlead us through the tangle. Cheer up, Watson, for I am very sure that our material has not yet all come to hand. Whenitdoeswemaysoonleaveourdifficulties behindus.” LittledidIthinkhowsoonthewordsofHolmes wouldberealized,orhowstrangeandsinisterwould be that new development which opened up an en- tirelyfreshlineofinvestigation. Iwasshavingatmy window in the morning when I heard the rattle of hoofs and, looking up, saw a dog-cart coming at a gallopdowntheroad. Itpulledupatourdoor,and our friend, the vicar, sprang from it and rushed up our garden path. Holmes was already dressed, and wehasteneddowntomeethim.</s>Our visitor was so excited that he could hardly articulate, but at last in gasps and bursts his tragic storycameoutofhim.</s>“Wearedevil-ridden,Mr.Holmes! Mypoorparish isdevil-ridden!”hecried. “Satanhimselfislooseinit! Wearegivenoverintohishands!”Hedancedabout in his agitation, a ludicrous object if it were not for hisashyfaceandstartledeyes. Finallyheshotouthis terriblenews.</s>“Mr. Mortimer Tregennis died during the night, and with exactly the same symptoms as the rest of hisfamily.” Holmessprangtohisfeet,allenergyinaninstant.</s>“Canyoufitusbothintoyourdog-cart?” “Yes,Ican.” “Then, Watson, we will postpone our breakfast.</s>Mr. Roundhay, we are entirely at your disposal.</s>Hurry—hurry,beforethingsgetdisarranged.” The lodger occupied two rooms at the vicarage, whichwereinananglebythemselves,theoneabove the other. Below was a large sitting-room; above, hisbedroom. Theylookedoutuponacroquetlawn whichcameuptothewindows. Wehadarrivedbe- forethedoctororthepolice,sothateverythingwas absolutelyundisturbed. Letmedescribeexactlythescene as we saw it upon that misty March morning.</s>Ithasleftanimpressionwhichcanneverbeeffaced frommymind.</s>Theatmosphereoftheroomwasofahorribleand depressing stuffiness. The servant who had first en- tered had thrown up the window, or it would have beenevenmoreintolerable. Thismightpartlybedue tothefactthatalampstoodflaringandsmokingon thecentretable. Besideitsatthedeadman,leaning backinhischair,histhinbeardprojecting,hisspecta- clespushedupontohisforehead,andhisleandark face turned towards the window and twisted into thesamedistortionofterrorwhichhadmarkedthe featuresofhisdeadsister. Hislimbswereconvulsed andhisfingerscontortedasthoughhehaddiedina veryparoxysmoffear. Hewasfullyclothed,though thereweresignsthathisdressinghadbeendoneina hurry. Wehadalreadylearnedthathisbedhadbeen sleptin,andthatthetragicendhadcometohimin theearlymorning.</s>One realized the red-hot energy which underlay Holmes’sphlegmaticexteriorwhenonesawthesud- denchangewhichcameoverhimfromthemoment thatheenteredthefatalapartment. Inaninstanthe wastenseandalert,hiseyesshining,hisfaceset,his limbs quivering with eager activity. He was out on the lawn, in through the window, round the room, and up into the bedroom, for all the world like a dashingfoxhounddrawingacover. Inthebedroom hemadearapidcastaroundandendedbythrowing openthewindow,whichappearedtogivehimsome freshcauseforexcitement,forheleanedoutofitwith loud ejaculations of interest and delight. Then he rusheddownthestair,outthroughtheopenwindow, threwhimselfuponhisfaceonthelawn,sprangup andintotheroomoncemore,allwiththeenergyof thehunterwhoisattheveryheelsofhisquarry. The lamp,whichwasanordinarystandard,heexamined withminutecare,makingcertainmeasurementsupon its bowl. He carefully scrutinized with his lens the talcshieldwhichcoveredthetopofthechimneyand scraped off some ashes which adhered to its upper surface,puttingsomeofthemintoanenvelope,which heplacedinhispocketbook. Finally,justasthedoc- tor and the official police put in an appearance, he beckonedtothevicarandweallthreewentoutupon thelawn.</s>“I am glad to say that my investigation has not beenentirelybarren,”heremarked. “Icannotremain todiscussthematterwiththepolice,butIshouldbe exceedinglyobliged,Mr.Roundhay,ifyouwouldgive theinspectormycomplimentsanddirecthisattention tothebedroomwindowandtothesitting-roomlamp.</s>Eachissuggestive,andtogethertheyarealmostcon- clusive. Ifthepolicewoulddesirefurtherinformation I shall be happy to see any of them at the cottage.</s>Andnow,Watson,Ithinkthat,perhaps,weshallbe betteremployedelsewhere.” It may be that the police resented the intrusion of an amateur, or that they imagined themselves to beuponsomehopefullineofinvestigation;butitis certainthatweheardnothingfromthemforthenext two days. During this time Holmes spent some of histimesmokinganddreaminginthecottage;buta greaterportionincountrywalkswhichheundertook alone, returning after many hours without remark astowherehehadbeen. Oneexperimentservedto showmethelineofhisinvestigation. Hehadbought a lamp which was the duplicate of the one which had burned in the room of Mortimer Tregennis on the morning of the tragedy. This he filled with the sameoilasthatusedatthevicarage,andhecarefully timedtheperiodwhichitwouldtaketobeexhausted.</s>Another experiment which he made was of a more unpleasantnature,andonewhichIamnotlikelyever toforget.</s>“You will remember, Watson,” he remarked one afternoon,“thatthereisasinglecommonpointofre- semblanceinthevaryingreportswhichhavereached us. Thisconcernstheeffectoftheatmosphereofthe roomineachcaseuponthosewhohadfirstenteredit.</s>YouwillrecollectthatMortimerTregennis,indescrib- ingtheepisodeofhislastvisittohisbrother’shouse, remarked that the doctor on entering the room fell intoachair? Youhadforgotten? WellIcananswerfor it that it was so. Now, you will remember also that Mrs.Porter,thehousekeeper,toldusthatsheherself fainteduponenteringtheroomandhadafterwards openedthewindow. Inthesecondcase—thatofMor- timerTregennishimself—youcannothaveforgotten thehorriblestuffinessoftheroomwhenwearrived, though the servant had thrown open the window.</s>Thatservant,Ifounduponinquiry,wassoillthatshe had gone to her bed. You will admit, Watson, that thesefactsareverysuggestive. Ineachcasethereis evidence of a poisonous atmosphere. In each case, also, there is combustion going on in the room—in theonecaseafire,intheotheralamp. Thefirewas needed,butthelampwaslit—asacomparisonofthe oilconsumedwillshow—longafteritwasbroadday- light. Why? Surelybecausethereissomeconnection betweenthreethings—theburning,thestuffyatmo- sphere, and, finally, the madness or death of those unfortunatepeople. Thatisclear,isitnot?”“Itwouldappearso.” “Atleastwemayacceptitasaworkinghypothesis.</s>We will suppose, then, that something was burned in each case which produced an atmosphere caus- ing strange toxic effects. Very good. In the first in- stance—thatoftheTregennisfamily—thissubstance wasplacedinthefire. Nowthewindowwasshut,but thefirewouldnaturallycarryfumestosomeextent upthechimney. Henceonewouldexpecttheeffects ofthepoisontobelessthaninthesecondcase,where therewaslessescapeforthevapour. Theresultseems to indicate that it was so, since in the first case only thewoman,whohadpresumablythemoresensitive organism,waskilled,theothersexhibitingthattem- porary or permanent lunacy which is evidently the first effect of the drug. In the second case the result wascomplete. Thefacts,therefore,seemtobearout thetheoryofapoisonwhichworkedbycombustion.</s>“With this train of reasoning in my head I natu- rallylookedaboutinMortimerTregennis’sroomto find some remains of this substance. The obvious placetolookwasthetalcshelforsmoke-guardofthe lamp. There, sure enough, I perceived a number of flakyashes,androundtheedgesafringeofbrownish powder, which had not yet been consumed. Half of thisItook,asyousaw,andIplaceditinanenvelope.” “Whyhalf,Holmes?” “Itisnotforme,mydearWatson,tostandinthe way of the official police force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poison still remained uponthetalchadtheythewittofindit. Now,Watson, wewilllightourlamp;wewill,however,takethepre- cautiontoopenourwindowtoavoidthepremature decease of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchairunless,likeasensibleman,youdetermine tohavenothingtodowiththeaffair. Oh,youwillsee it out, will you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same distance from the poison and face to face.</s>The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a posi- tion to watch the other andto bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is thatallclear? Well,then,Itakeourpowder—orwhat remains of it—from the envelope, and I lay it above theburninglamp. So! Now,Watson,letussitdown andawaitdevelopments.” They were not long in coming. I had hardly set- tled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, muskyodour,subtleandnauseous. Attheveryfirst whiff of it my brain and my imagination were be- yondallcontrol. Athick,blackcloudswirledbefore my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon my ap- palled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, allthatwasmonstrousandinconceivablywickedin theuniverse. Vagueshapesswirledandswamamid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeak- abledwelleruponthethreshold,whoseveryshadow wouldblastmysoul. Afreezinghorrortookposses- sionofme. Ifeltthatmyhairwasrising,thatmyeyes were protruding, that my mouth was opened, and mytonguelikeleather. Theturmoilwithinmybrain wassuchthatsomethingmustsurelysnap. Itriedto screamandwasvaguelyawareofsomehoarsecroak which was my own voice, but distant and detached frommyself. Atthesamemoment,insomeeffortof escape,Ibrokethroughthatcloudofdespairandhad aglimpseofHolmes’sface,white,rigid,anddrawn withhorror—theverylookwhichIhadseenuponthe featuresofthedead. Itwasthatvisionwhichgaveme aninstantofsanityandofstrength. Idashedfrommy chair,threwmyarmsroundHolmes,andtogetherwe lurchedthroughthedoor,andaninstantafterwards hadthrownourselvesdownuponthegrassplotand were lying side by side, conscious only of the glori- oussunshinewhichwasburstingitswaythroughthe hellishcloudofterrorwhichhadgirtusin. Slowlyit rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we were sittinguponthegrass,wipingourclammyforeheads, andlookingwithapprehensionateachothertomark thelasttracesofthatterrificexperiencewhichwehad undergone.</s>“Upon my word, Watson!” said Holmes at last withanunsteadyvoice,“Ioweyoubothmythanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment evenfor one’sself, and doublysofora friend. I am reallyverysorry.” “Youknow,”Iansweredwithsomeemotion,for IhaveneverseensomuchofHolmes’sheartbefore, “thatitismygreatestjoyandprivilegetohelpyou.” Herelapsedatonceintothehalf-humorous,half- cynicalveinwhichwashishabitualattitudetothose abouthim. “Itwouldbesuperfluoustodriveusmad, mydearWatson,”saidhe. “Acandidobserverwould certainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess thatIneverimaginedthattheeffectcouldbesosud- denandsosevere.”Hedashedintothecottage,and, reappearingwiththeburninglampheldatfullarm’s length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. “We must give the room a little time to clear. I take it,Watson,thatyouhavenolongerashadowofadoubt astohowthesetragedieswereproduced?” “Nonewhatever.” “Butthecauseremainsasobscureasbefore. Come into the arbour here and let us discuss it together.</s>That villainous stuff seems still to linger round my throat. I think we must admit that all the evidence pointstothisman,MortimerTregennis,havingbeen the criminal in the first tragedy, though he was the victiminthesecondone. Wemustremember,inthe firstplace,thatthereissomestoryofafamilyquarrel, followedbyareconciliation. Howbitterthatquarrel mayhavebeen,orhowhollowthereconciliationwe cannottell. WhenIthinkofMortimerTregennis,with thefoxyfaceandthesmallshrewd,beadyeyesbehind thespectacles,heisnotamanwhomIshouldjudge tobeofaparticularlyforgivingdisposition. Well,in the next place, you will remember that this idea of someonemovinginthegarden,whichtookouratten- tionforamomentfromtherealcauseofthetragedy, emanatedfromhim. Hehadamotiveinmisleading us. Finally, if he did not throw the substance into thefireatthemomentofleavingtheroom,whodid doso? Theaffairhappenedimmediatelyafterhisde- parture. Hadanyoneelsecomein,thefamilywould certainlyhaverisenfromthetable. Besides,inpeace- fulCornwall,visitorsdidnotarriveafterteno’clock at night. We may take it, then, that all the evidence pointstoMortimerTregennisastheculprit.” “Thenhisowndeathwassuicide!” “Well,Watson,itisonthefaceofitanotimpossi- blesupposition. Themanwhohadtheguiltuponhis soulofhavingbroughtsuchafateuponhisownfam- ilymightwellbedrivenbyremorsetoinflictitupon himself. There are, however, some cogent reasons against it. Fortunately, there is one man in England who knows all about it, and I have made arrange- mentsbywhichweshallhearthefactsthisafternoon from his own lips. Ah! he is a little before his time.</s>Perhaps you would kindly step this way, Dr. Leon Sterndale. Wehavebeenconducingachemicalexper- imentindoorswhichhasleftourlittleroomhardlyfit forthereceptionofsodistinguishedavisitor.” Ihadheardtheclickofthegardengate,andnow the majestic figure of the great African explorer ap- peared upon the path. He turned in some surprise towardstherusticarbourinwhichwesat.</s>“You sent for me, Mr. Holmes. I had your note aboutanhourago,andIhavecome,thoughIreally donotknowwhyIshouldobeyyoursummons.” “Perhapswecanclearthepointupbeforewesep- arate,”saidHolmes. “Meanwhile,Iammuchobliged to you for your courteous acquiescence. You will excuse this informal reception in the open air, but my friend Watson and I have nearly furnished an additional chapter to what the papers call the Cor- nishHorror,andwepreferaclearatmosphereforthe present. Perhaps,sincethematterswhichwehaveto discusswillaffectyoupersonallyinaveryintimate fashion,itisaswellthatweshouldtalkwherethere canbenoeavesdropping.” Theexplorertookhiscigarfromhislipsandgazed sternlyatmycompanion.</s>“I am at a loss to know, sir,” he said, “what you canhavetospeakaboutwhichaffectsmepersonally inaveryintimatefashion.” “ThekillingofMortimerTregennis,”saidHolmes.</s>ForamomentIwishedthatIwerearmed. Stern- dale’s fierce face turned to a dusky red, his eyes glared, and the knotted, passionate veins started out in his forehead, while he sprang forward with clenched hands towards my companion. Then he stopped,andwithaviolenteffortheresumedacold, rigidcalmness,whichwas,perhaps,moresuggestive ofdangerthanhishot-headedoutburst.</s>“Ihavelivedsolongamongsavagesandbeyond thelaw,”saidhe,“thatIhavegotintothewayofbe- ingalawtomyself. Youwoulddowell,Mr.Holmes, not to forget it, for I have no desire to do you an injury.” “Nor have I any desire to do you an injury, Dr.</s>Sterndale. Surelytheclearestproofofitisthat,know- ingwhatIknow,Ihavesentforyouandnotforthe police.” Sterndalesatdownwithagasp,overawedfor,per- haps,thefirsttimeinhisadventurouslife. Therewas acalmassuranceofpowerinHolmes’smannerwhich couldnotbewithstood. Ourvisitorstammeredfora moment,hisgreathandsopeningandshuttinginhis agitation.</s>“Whatdoyoumean?”heaskedatlast. “Ifthisis bluffuponyourpart,Mr.Holmes,youhavechosena bad man for your experiment. Let us have no more beatingaboutthebush. Whatdoyoumean?” “I will tell you,” said Holmes, “and the reason why I tell you is that I hope frankness may beget frankness. What my next step may be will depend entirelyuponthenatureofyourowndefence.” “Mydefence?” “Yes,sir.” “Mydefenceagainstwhat?”“Against the charge of killing Mortimer Tregen- nis.” Sterndalemoppedhisforeheadwithhishandker- chief. “Uponmyword,youaregettingon,”saidhe.</s>“Doallyoursuccessesdependuponthisprodigious powerofbluff?” “The bluff,” said Holmes sternly, “is upon your side, Dr. Leon Sterndale, and not upon mine. As a proofIwilltellyousomeofthefactsuponwhichmy conclusionsarebased. OfyourreturnfromPlymouth, allowing much of your property to go on to Africa, Iwillsaynothingsavethatitfirstinformedmethat you were one of the factors which had to be taken intoaccountinreconstructingthisdrama—” “Icameback—” “I have heard your reasons and regard them as unconvincingandinadequate. Wewillpassthat. You came down here to ask me whom I suspected. I re- fusedtoansweryou. Youthenwenttothevicarage, waitedoutsideitforsometime,andfinallyreturned toyourcottage.” “Howdoyouknowthat?” “Ifollowedyou.” “Isawnoone.” “ThatiswhatyoumayexpecttoseewhenIfollow you. You spent a restless night at your cottage, and youformedcertainplans,whichintheearlymorning you proceeded to put into execution. Leaving your doorjustasdaywasbreaking,youfilledyourpocket with some reddish gravel that was lying heaped be- sideyourgate.” Sterndale gave a violent start and looked at Holmesinamazement.</s>“Youthenwalkedswiftlyforthemilewhichsepa- ratedyoufromthevicarage. Youwerewearing,Imay remark, the same pair of ribbed tennis shoes which are at the present moment upon your feet. At the vicarageyoupassedthroughtheorchardandtheside hedge, coming out under the window of the lodger Tregennis. It was now daylight, but the household was not yet stirring. You drew some of the gravel fromyourpocket,andyouthrewitupatthewindow aboveyou.” Sterndalesprangtohisfeet.</s>“Ibelievethatyouarethedevilhimself!”hecried.</s>Holmes smiled at the compliment. “It took two, or possibly three, handfuls before the lodger came to the window. You beckoned him to come down.</s>He dressed hurriedly and descended to his sitting- room. You entered by the window. There was an interview—a short one—during which you walked up and down the room. Then you passed out and closed the window, standing on the lawn outside smokingacigarandwatchingwhatoccurred. Finally, after the death of Tregennis, you withdrew as you had come. Now, Dr. Sterndale, how do you justify such conduct, and what were the motives for your actions? If you prevaricate or trifle with me, I give youmyassurancethatthematterwillpassoutofmy handsforever.” Our visitor’s face had turned ashen gray as he listened to the words of his accuser. Now he sat for sometimeinthoughtwithhisfacesunkinhishands.</s>Thenwithasuddenimpulsivegesturehepluckeda photograph from his breast-pocket and threw it on therustictablebeforeus.</s>“ThatiswhyIhavedoneit,”saidhe.</s>It showed the bust and face of a very beautiful woman. Holmesstoopedoverit.</s>“BrendaTregennis,”saidhe.</s>“Yes,BrendaTregennis,”repeatedourvisitor. “For years I have loved her. For years she has loved me.</s>There is the secret of that Cornish seclusion which peoplehavemarvelledat. Ithasbroughtmecloseto theonethingonearththatwasdeartome. Icouldnot marryher,forIhaveawifewhohasleftmeforyears andyetwhom,bythedeplorablelawsofEngland,I couldnotdivorce. ForyearsBrendawaited. Foryears I waited. And this is what we have waited for.” A terrible sob shook his great frame, and he clutched his throat under his brindled beard. Then with an efforthemasteredhimselfandspokeon: “The vicar knew. He was in our confidence. He wouldtellyouthatshewasanangeluponearth. That waswhyhetelegraphedtomeandIreturned. What wasmybaggageorAfricatomewhenIlearnedthat such a fate had come upon my darling? There you havethemissingcluetomyaction,Mr.Holmes.” “Proceed,”saidmyfriend.</s>Dr.Sterndaledrewfromhispocketapaperpacket andlaidituponthetable. Ontheoutsidewaswritten “Radixpedisdiaboli”witharedpoisonlabelbeneath it. He pushed it towards me. “I understand that you are a doctor, sir. Have you ever heard of this preparation?” “Devil’s-footroot! No,Ihaveneverheardofit.” “Itisnoreflectionuponyourprofessionalknowl- edge,”saidhe,“forIbelievethat,saveforonesample in a laboratory at Buda, there is no other specimen in Europe. It has not yet found its way either intothe pharmacopoeia or into the literature of toxicol- ogy. Therootisshapedlikeafoot,halfhuman,half goatlike; hence the fanciful name given by a botan- ical missionary. It is used as an ordeal poison by the medicine-men in certain districts of West Africa and is kept as a secret among them. This particular specimenIobtainedunderveryextraordinarycircum- stancesintheUbangicountry.”Heopenedthepaper ashespokeanddisclosedaheapofreddish-brown, snuff-likepowder.</s>“Well,sir?”askedHolmessternly.</s>“I am about to tell you, Mr. Holmes, all that ac- tuallyoccurred,foryoualreadyknowsomuchthat it is clearly to my interest that you should know all.</s>I have already explained the relationship in which I stood to the Tregennis family. For the sake of the sister I was friendly with the brothers. There was a family quarrel about money which estranged this man Mortimer, but it was supposed to be made up, andIafterwardsmethimasIdidtheothers. Hewas asly,subtle,schemingman,andseveralthingsarose whichgavemeasuspicionofhim,butIhadnocause foranypositivequarrel.</s>“One day, only a couple of weeks ago, he came down to my cottage and I showed him some of my African curiosities. Among other things I exhibited thispowder,andItoldhimofitsstrangeproperties, how it stimulates those brain centres which control theemotionoffear,andhoweithermadnessordeath isthefateoftheunhappynativewhoissubjectedto the ordeal by the priest of his tribe. I told him also howpowerlessEuropeansciencewouldbetodetect it. How he took it I cannot say, for I never left the room,butthereisnodoubtthatitwasthen,whileI wasopeningcabinetsandstoopingtoboxes,thathe managed to abstract some of the devil’s-foot root. I wellrememberhowhepliedmewithquestionsasto the amount and the time that was needed for its ef- fect,butIlittledreamedthathecouldhaveapersonal reasonforasking.</s>“Ithoughtnomoreofthematteruntilthevicar’s telegram reached me at Plymouth. This villain had thoughtthatIwouldbeatseabeforethenewscould reachme,andthatIshouldbelostforyearsinAfrica.</s>But I returned at once. Of course, I could not listen tothedetailswithoutfeelingassuredthatmypoison hadbeenused. Icameroundtoseeyouonthechance that some other explanation had suggested itself to you. But there could be none. I was convinced that Mortimer Tregennis was the murderer; that for the sake of money, and with the idea, perhaps, that if the other members of his family were all insane he wouldbethesoleguardianoftheirjointproperty,he hadusedthedevil’s-footpowderuponthem,driven twoofthemoutoftheirsenses,andkilledhissister Brenda,theonehumanbeingwhomIhaveeverloved orwhohaseverlovedme. Therewashiscrime;what wastobehispunishment? “Should I appeal to the law? Where were my proofs? I knew that the facts were true, but could I help to make a jury of countrymen believe so fan- tastic a story? I might or I might not. But I could not afford to fail. My soul cried out for revenge. I havesaidtoyouoncebefore,Mr.Holmes,thatIhave spentmuchofmylifeoutsidethelaw,andthatIhave come at last to be a law to myself. So it was even now. Ideterminedthat thefatewhichhehad given toothersshouldbesharedbyhimself. Eitherthator Iwoulddojusticeuponhimwithmyownhand. In allEnglandtherecanbenomanwhosetslessvalue uponhisownlifethanIdoatthepresentmoment.</s>“NowIhavetoldyouall. Youhaveyourselfsup- pliedtherest. Idid,asyousay,afterarestlessnight, setoffearlyfrommycottage. Iforesawthedifficulty ofarousinghim,soIgatheredsomegravelfromthe pilewhichyouhavementioned,andIusedittothrow uptohiswindow. Hecamedownandadmittedme through the window of the sitting-room. I laid his offencebeforehim. ItoldhimthatIhadcomebothas judgeandexecutioner. Thewretchsankintoachair, paralyzed at the sight of my revolver. I lit the lamp, putthepowderaboveit,andstoodoutsidethewin- dow,readytocarryoutmythreattoshoothimshould hetrytoleavetheroom. Infiveminuteshedied. My God! how he died! But my heart was flint, for he endurednothingwhichmyinnocentdarlinghadnot felt beforehim. Thereis mystory, Mr.Holmes. Per- haps,ifyoulovedawoman,youwouldhavedoneas muchyourself. Atanyrate,Iaminyourhands. You cantakewhatstepsyoulike. AsIhavealreadysaid, thereisnomanlivingwhocanfeardeathlessthanI do.” Holmessatforsomelittletimeinsilence.</s>“Whatwereyourplans?”heaskedatlast.</s>“I had intended to bury myself in central Africa.</s>Myworkthereisbuthalffinished.” “Go and do the other half,” said Holmes. “I, at least,amnotpreparedtopreventyou.” Dr. Sterndale raised his giant figure, bowed gravely,andwalkedfromthearbour. Holmeslithis pipeandhandedmehispouch.</s>“Somefumeswhicharenotpoisonouswouldbe awelcomechange,”saidhe. “Ithinkyoumustagree, Watson, that it is not a case in which we are calledupon to interfere. Our investigation has been inde- pendent,andouractionshallbesoalso. Youwould notdenouncetheman?” “Certainlynot,”Ianswered.</s>“I have never loved, Watson, but if I did and if the woman I loved had met such an end, I might act even as our lawless lion-hunter has done. Who knows? Well, Watson, I will not offend your intelli- gencebyexplainingwhatisobvious. Thegravelupon thewindow-sillwas,ofcourse,thestarting-pointof my research. It was unlike anything in the vicarage garden. Onlywhenmyattentionhadbeendrawnto Dr.SterndaleandhiscottagedidIfinditscounterpart.</s>Thelampshininginbroaddaylightandtheremains of powder upon the shield were successive links in afairlyobviouschain. Andnow,mydearWatson,I thinkwemaydismissthematterfromourmindand gobackwithaclearconsciencetothestudyofthose Chaldean roots which are surely to be traced in the CornishbranchofthegreatCelticspeech.”t was nine o’clock at night upon the sec- ond of August—the most terrible August in the history of the world. One might I havethoughtalreadythatGod’scursehung heavyoveradegenerateworld,fortherewasanawe- somehushandafeelingofvagueexpectancyinthe sultryandstagnantair. Thesunhadlongset,butone blood-red gash like an open wound lay low in the distantwest. Above,thestarswereshiningbrightly, andbelow,thelightsoftheshippingglimmeredinthe bay. ThetwofamousGermansstoodbesidethestone parapetofthegardenwalk,withthelong,low,heav- ilygabledhousebehindthem,andtheylookeddown uponthebroadsweepofthebeachatthefootofthe great chalk cliff in which Von Bork, like some wan- deringeagle,hadperchedhimselffouryearsbefore.</s>Theystoodwiththeirheadsclosetogether,talkingin low,confidentialtones. Frombelowthetwoglowing endsoftheircigarsmighthavebeenthesmouldering eyes of some malignant fiend looking down in the darkness.</s>A remarkable man this Von Bork—a man who could hardly be matched among all the devoted agents of the Kaiser. It was his talents which had firstrecommendedhimfortheEnglishmission,the mostimportantmissionofall,butsincehehadtaken itoverthosetalentshadbecomemoreandmoreman- ifesttothehalf-dozenpeopleintheworldwhowere really in touch with the truth. One of these was his presentcompanion,BaronVonHerling,thechiefsec- retary of the legation, whose huge 100-horse-power Benz car was blocking the country lane as it waited towaftitsownerbacktoLondon.</s>“SofarasIcanjudgethetrendofevents,youwill probablybebackinBerlinwithintheweek,”thesec- retarywassaying. “Whenyougetthere,mydearVon Bork, I think you will be surprised at the welcome you will receive. I happen to know what is thought inthehighestquartersofyourworkinthiscountry.” Hewasahugeman,thesecretary,deep,broad,and tall,withaslow,heavyfashionofspeechwhichhad beenhismainassetinhispoliticalcareer.</s>VonBorklaughed.</s>“Theyarenotveryhardtodeceive,”heremarked.</s>“Amoredocile,simplefolkcouldnotbeimagined.” “Idon’tknowaboutthat,”saidtheotherthought- fully. “They have strange limits and one must learn toobservethem. Itisthatsurfacesimplicityoftheirs which makes a trap for the stranger. One’s first im- pressionisthattheyareentirelysoft. Thenonecomes suddenlyuponsomethingveryhard,andyouknow thatyouhavereachedthelimitandmustadaptyour- selftothefact. Theyhave,forexample,theirinsular conventionswhichsimplymustbeobserved.” “Meaning‘goodform’andthatsortofthing?”Von Borksighedasonewhohadsufferedmuch.</s>“Meaning British prejudice in all its queer mani- festations. AsanexampleImayquoteoneofmyown worstblunders—Icanaffordtotalkofmyblunders, for you know my work well enough to be aware of mysuccesses. Itwasonmyfirstarrival. Iwasinvited to a week-end gathering at the country house of a cabinet minister. The conversation was amazingly indiscreet.” VonBorknodded. “I’vebeenthere,”saidhedryly.</s>“Exactly. Well, I naturally sent a resume of the informationtoBerlin. Unfortunatelyourgoodchan- cellor is a little heavy-handed in these matters, and he transmitted a remark which showed that he was awareofwhathadbeensaid. This,ofcourse,tookthe trailstraightuptome. You’venoideatheharmthat it did me. There was nothing soft about our British hosts on that occasion, I can assure you. I was two years living it down. Now you, with this sporting poseofyours—” “No,no,don’tcallitapose. Aposeisanartificial thing. Thisisquitenatural. Iamabornsportsman. I enjoyit.” “Well,thatmakesitthemoreeffective. Youyacht againstthem,youhuntwiththem,youplaypolo,you matchthemineverygame,yourfour-in-handtakes theprizeatOlympia. Ihaveevenheardthatyougo the length of boxing with the young officers. What is the result? Nobody takes you seriously. You are a ‘good old sport,’ ‘quite a decent fellow for a Ger- man,’ahard-drinking,night-club,knock-about-town, devil-may-care young fellow. And all the time this quietcountryhouseofyoursisthecentreofhalfthe mischiefinEngland,andthesportingsquirethemost astutesecret-servicemaninEurope. Genius,mydear VonBork—genius!” “Youflatterme,Baron. ButcertainlyImayclaim my four years in this country have not been unpro- ductive. I’venevershownyoumylittlestore. Would youmindsteppinginforamoment?” The door of the study opened straight on to the terrace. Von Bork pushed it back, and, leading the way, he clicked the switch of the electric light. He then closed the door behind the bulky form which followed him and carefully adjusted the heavy cur- tain over the latticed window. Only when all these precautionshadbeentakenandtesteddidheturnhis sunburnedaquilinefacetohisguest.“Someofmypapershavegone,”saidhe. “When mywifeandthehouseholdleftyesterdayforFlushing they took the less important with them. I must, of course, claim the protection of the embassy for the others.” “Your name has already been filed as one of the personal suite. There will be no difficulties for you or your baggage. Of course, it is just possible that wemaynothavetogo. EnglandmayleaveFranceto her fate. We are sure that there is no binding treaty betweenthem.” “AndBelgium?” “Yes,andBelgium,too.” Von Bork shook his head. “I don’t see how that could be. There is a definite treaty there. She could neverrecoverfromsuchahumiliation.” “Shewouldatleasthavepeaceforthemoment.” “Butherhonor?” “Tut,mydearsir,weliveinautilitarianage. Hon- our is a mediaeval conception. Besides England is not ready. It is an inconceivable thing, but even our specialwartaxoffiftymillion,whichonewouldthink madeourpurposeasclearasifwehadadvertisedit on the front page of the Times, has not roused these peoplefromtheirslumbers. Hereandthereonehears aquestion. Itismybusinesstofindananswer. Here andtherealsothereisanirritation. Itismybusiness tosootheit. ButIcanassureyouthatsofarasthees- sentialsgo—thestorageofmunitions,thepreparation for submarine attack, the arrangements for making highexplosives—nothingisprepared. How,then,can England come in, especially when we have stirred herupsuchadevil’sbrewofIrishcivilwar,window- breaking Furies, and God knows what to keep her thoughtsathome.” “Shemustthinkofherfuture.” “Ah, that is another matter. I fancy that in the future we have our own very definite plans about England, and that your information will be very vi- tal to us. It is to-day or to-morrow with Mr. John Bull. Ifheprefersto-dayweareperfectlyready. Ifit is to-morrow we shall be more ready still. I should think they would be wiser to fight with allies than withoutthem,butthatistheirownaffair. Thisweek is their week of destiny. But you were speaking of your papers.” He sat in the armchair with the light shining upon his broad bald head, while he puffed sedatelyathiscigar.</s>The large oak-panelled, book-lined room had a curtain hung in the future corner. When this was drawn it disclosed a large, brass-bound safe. Von Borkdetachedasmallkeyfromhiswatchchain,and aftersomeconsiderablemanipulationofthelockhe swungopentheheavydoor.</s>“Look!”saidhe,standingclear,withawaveofhis hand.</s>Thelightshonevividlyintotheopenedsafe,and thesecretaryoftheembassygazedwithanabsorbed interestattherowsofstuffedpigeon-holeswithwhich itwasfurnished. Eachpigeon-holehaditslabel,and hiseyesasheglancedalongthemreadalongseries ofsuchtitlesas“Fords,”“Harbour-defences,”“Aero- planes,”“Ireland,”“Egypt,”“Portsmouthforts,”“The Channel,” “Rosythe,” and a score of others. Each compartmentwasbristlingwithpapersandplans.</s>“Colossal!” said the secretary. Putting down his cigarhesoftlyclappedhisfathands.</s>“Andallinfouryears,Baron. Notsuchabadshow forthehard-drinking,hard-ridingcountrysquire. But the gem of my collection is coming and there is the setting all ready for it.” He pointed to a space over which“NavalSignals”wasprinted.</s>“Butyouhaveagooddossiertherealready.” “Outofdateandwastepaper. TheAdmiraltyin some way got the alarm and every code has been changed. Itwasablow,Baron—theworstsetbackin my whole campaign. But thanks to my check-book andthegoodAltamontallwillbewellto-night.” TheBaronlookedathiswatchandgaveaguttural exclamationofdisappointment.</s>“Well,Ireallycanwaitnolonger. Youcanimagine thatthingsaremovingatpresentinCarltonTerrace andthatwehavealltobeatourposts. Ihadhoped to be able to bring news of your great coup. Did Altamontnamenohour?” VonBorkpushedoveratelegram.</s>Willcomewithoutfailto-nightandbring newsparkingplugs.</s>——Altamont.</s>“Sparkingplugs,eh?” “You see he poses as a motor expert and I keep a fullgarage. Inour code everything likely to come up is named after some spare part. If he talks of a radiator it is a battleship, of an oil pump a cruiser, andsoon. Sparkingplugsarenavalsignals.” “FromPortsmouthatmidday,”saidthesecretary, examiningthesuperscription. “Bytheway,whatdo yougivehim?”“Fivehundredpoundsforthisparticularjob. Of coursehehasasalaryaswell.” “Thegreedyrouge. Theyareuseful,thesetraitors, butIgrudgethemtheirbloodmoney.” “I grudge Altamont nothing. He is a wonderful worker. If I pay him well, at least he delivers the goods, to use his own phrase. Besides he is not a traitor. I assure you that our most pan-Germanic JunkerisasuckingdoveinhisfeelingstowardsEng- landascomparedwitharealbitterIrish-American.” “Oh,anIrish-American?” “If you heard him talk you would not doubt it.</s>SometimesIassureyouIcanhardlyunderstandhim.</s>HeseemstohavedeclaredwarontheKing’sEnglish as well as on the English king. Must you really go? Hemaybehereanymoment.” “No. I’msorry,butIhavealreadyoverstayedmy time. Weshallexpectyouearlyto-morrow,andwhen you get that signal book through the little door on the Duke of York’s steps you can put a triumphant finis to your record in England. What! Tokay!” He indicatedaheavilysealeddust-coveredbottlewhich stoodwithtwohighglassesuponasalver.</s>“MayIofferyouaglassbeforeyourjourney?” “No,thanks. Butitlookslikerevelry.” “Altamonthasanicetasteinwines,andhetooka fancytomyTokay. Heisatouchyfellowandneeds humouring in small things. I have to study him, I assureyou.”Theyhadstrolledoutontotheterrace again,andalongittothefurtherendwhereatatouch fromtheBaron’schauffeurthegreatcarshiveredand chuckled. “Those are the lights of Harwich, I sup- pose,” said the secretary, pulling on his dust coat.</s>“How still and peaceful it all seems. There may be otherlightswithintheweek,andtheEnglishcoasta lesstranquilplace! Theheavens,too,maynotbequite sopeacefulifallthatthegoodZeppelinpromisesus comestrue. Bytheway,whoisthat?” Onlyonewindowshowedalightbehindthem;in ittherestoodalamp,andbesideit,seatedatatable, wasadearoldruddy-facedwomaninacountrycap.</s>Shewasbendingoverherknittingandstoppingocca- sionallytostrokealargeblackcatuponastoolbeside her.</s>“ThatisMartha,theonlyservantIhaveleft.” Thesecretarychuckled.</s>“She might almost personify Britannia,” said he, “withhercompleteself-absorptionandgeneralairof comfortable somnolence. Well, au revoir, Von Bork!” Withafinalwaveofhishandhesprangintothecar, and a moment later the two golden cones from the headlightsshotthroughthedarkness. Thesecretary lay back in the cushions of the luxurious limousine, withhisthoughtssofulloftheimpendingEuropean tragedythathehardlyobservedthatashiscarswung roundthevillagestreetitnearlypassedoveralittle Fordcomingintheoppositedirection.</s>VonBorkwalkedslowlybacktothestudywhen the last gleams of the motor lamps had faded into the distance. As he passed he observed that his old housekeeperhadputoutherlampandretired. Itwas anewexperiencetohim,thesilenceanddarknessof hiswidespreadhouse,forhisfamilyandhousehold hadbeenalargeone. Itwasarelieftohim,however, tothinkthattheywereallinsafetyandthat,butfor thatoneoldwomanwhohadlingeredinthekitchen, hehadthewholeplacetohimself. Therewasagood deal of tidying up to do inside his study and he set himself to do it until his keen, handsome face was flushedwiththeheatoftheburningpapers. Aleather valise stood beside his table, and into this he began to pack very neatly and systematically the precious contentsofhissafe. Hehadhardlygotstartedwith the work, however, when his quick ears caught the soundsofadistantcar. Instantlyhegaveanexclama- tion of satisfaction, strapped up the valise, shut the safe,lockedit,andhurriedoutontotheterrace. He wasjustintimetoseethelightsofasmallcarcome toahaltatthegate. Apassengersprangoutofitand advanced swiftly towards him, while the chauffeur, a heavily built, elderly man with a gray moustache, settleddownlikeonewhoresignshimselftoalong vigil.</s>“Well?”askedVonBorkeagerly,runningforward tomeethisvisitor.</s>Foranswerthemanwavedasmallbrown-paper parceltriumphantlyabovehishead.</s>“Youcangivemethegladhandto-night,mister,” hecried. “I’mbringinghomethebaconatlast.” “Thesignals?” “Same as I said in my cable. Every last one of them,semaphore,lampcode,Marconi—acopy,mind you,nottheoriginal. Thatwastoodangerous. Butit’s therealgoods,andyoucanlaytothat.”Heslapped theGermanupontheshoulderwitharoughfamiliar- ityfromwhichtheotherwinced.</s>“Comein,”hesaid. “I’mallaloneinthehouse. I wasonlywaitingforthis. Ofcourseacopyisbetter than the original. If an original were missing they wouldchangethewholething. Youthinkit’sallsafe aboutthecopy?”The Irish-American had entered the study and stretchedhislonglimbsfromthearmchair. Hewasa tall,gauntmanofsixty,withclear-cutfeaturesanda smallgoateebeardwhichgavehimageneralresem- blancetothecaricaturesofUncleSam. Ahalf-smoked, soddencigarhungfromthecornerofhismouth,and ashesatdownhestruckamatchandrelitit. “Making readyforamove?”heremarkedashelookedround him. “Say,mister,”headded,ashiseyesfelluponthe safefromwhichthecurtainwasnowremoved,“you don’ttellmeyoukeepyourpapersinthat?” “Whynot?” “Gosh,inawide-opencontraptionlikethat! And theyreckonyoutobesomespy. Why,aYankeecrook would be into that with a can-opener. If I’d known thatanyletterofminewasgoin’tolielooseinathing likethatI’dhavebeenamugtowritetoyouatall.” “Itwouldpuzzleanycrooktoforcethatsafe,”Von Borkanswered. “Youwon’tcutthatmetalwithany tool.” “Butthelock?” “No, it’s a double combination lock. You know whatthatis?” “Searchme,”saidtheAmerican.</s>“Well,youneedawordaswellasasetoffigures before you can get the lock to work.” He rose and showed a double-radiating disc round the keyhole.</s>“Thisouteroneisfortheletters,theinneroneforthe figures.” “Well,well,that’sfine.” “Soit’snotquiteassimpleasyouthought. Itwas four years ago that I had it made, and what do you thinkIchoseforthewordandfigures?” “It’sbeyondme.” “Well,IchoseAugustfortheword,and1914for thefigures,andhereweare.” TheAmerican’sfaceshowedhissurpriseandad- miration.</s>“My, but that was smart! You had it down to a finething.” “Yes, a few of us even then could have guessed thedate. Hereitis,andI’mshuttingdownto-morrow morning.” “Well, I guess you’ll have to fix me up also. I’m notstayingisthisgol-darnedcountryallonmylone- some. In a week or less, from what I see, John Bull willbeonhishindlegsandfairramping. I’drather watchhimfromoverthewater.” “Butyou’reanAmericancitizen?” “Well,sowasJackJamesanAmericancitizen,but he’sdoingtimeinPortlandallthesame. Itcutsnoice withaBritishcoppertotellhimyou’reanAmerican citizen. ‘It’sBritishlawandorderoverhere,’sayshe.</s>Bytheway,mister,talkingofJackJames,itseemsto meyoudon’tdomuchtocoveryourmen.” “Whatdoyoumean?”VonBorkaskedsharply.</s>“Well,youaretheiremployer,ain’tyou? It’supto youtoseethattheydon’tfalldown. Buttheydofall down,andwhendidyoueverpickthemup? There’s James—” “ItwasJames’sownfault. Youknowthatyourself.</s>Hewastooself-willedforthejob.” “James was a bonehead—I give you that. Then therewasHollis.” “Themanwasmad.” “Well,hewentabitwoozytowardstheend. It’s enough to make a man bug-house when he has to play a part from morning to night with a hundred guys all ready to set the coppers wise to him. But nowthereisSteiner—” Von Bork started violently, and his ruddy face turnedashadepaler.</s>“WhataboutSteiner?” “Well, they’ve got him, that’s all. They raided his store last night, and he and his papers are all in Portsmouthjail. You’llgooffandhe,poordevil,will havetostandtheracket,andluckyifhegetsoffwith his life. That’s why I want to get over the water as soonasyoudo.” VonBorkwasastrong,self-containedman,butit waseasytoseethatthenewshadshakenhim.</s>“HowcouldtheyhavegotontoSteiner?”hemut- tered. “That’stheworstblowyet.” “Well, you nearly had a worse one, for I believe theyarenotfaroffme.” “Youdon’tmeanthat!” “Surething. MylandladydownFrattonwayhad some inquiries, and when I heard of it I guessed it wastimeformetohustle. ButwhatIwanttoknow, mister,ishowthecoppersknowthesethings? Steiner isthefifthmanyou’velostsinceIsignedonwithyou, andIknowthenameofthesixthifIdon’tgetamove on. Howdoyouexplainit,andain’tyouashamedto seeyourmengodownlikethis?” VonBorkflushedcrimson.</s>“Howdareyouspeakinsuchaway!” “If I didn’t dare things, mister, I wouldn’t be in your service. But I’ll tell you straight what is in my mind. I’ve heard that with you German politicianswhenanagenthasdonehisworkyouarenotsorry toseehimputaway.” VonBorksprangtohisfeet.</s>“Do you dare to suggest that I have given away myownagents!” “Idon’tstandforthat,mister,butthere’sastool pigeon or a cross somewhere, and it’s up to you to find out where it is. Anyhow I am taking no more chances. It’smeforlittleHolland,andthesoonerthe better.” VonBorkhadmasteredhisanger.</s>“We have been allies too long to quarrel now at theveryhourofvictory,”hesaid. “You’vedonesplen- didworkandtakenrisks,andIcan’tforgetit. Byall means go to Holland, and you can get a boat from RotterdamtoNewYork. Nootherlinewillbesafea week from now. I’ll take that book and pack it with therest.” The American held the small parcel in his hand, butmadenomotiontogiveitup.</s>“Whataboutthedough?”heasked.</s>“Thewhat?” “Theboodle. Thereward. The£500. Thegunner turneddamnednastyatthelast,andIhadtosquare himwithanextrahundreddollarsoritwouldhave beennitskyforyouandme. ‘Nothin’doin’!’ sayshe, andhemeantit,too,butthelasthundreddidit. It’s cost me two hundred pound from first to last, so it isn’tlikelyI’dgiveitupwithoutgettin’mywad.” VonBorksmiledwithsomebitterness. “Youdon’t seem to have a very high opinion of my honour,” saidhe,“youwantthemoneybeforeyougiveupthe book.” “Well,mister,itisabusinessproposition.” “All right. Have your way.” He sat down at the table and scribbled a check, which he tore from the book, but he refrained from handing it to his com- panion. “Afterall,sincewearetobeonsuchterms, Mr. Altamont,” said he, “I don’t see why I should trustyouanymorethanyoutrustme. Doyouunder- stand?”headded,lookingbackoverhisshoulderat the American. “There’s the check upon the table. I claimtherighttoexaminethatparcelbeforeyoupick themoneyup.” TheAmericanpasseditoverwithoutaword. Von Bork undid a winding of string and two wrappers ofpaper. Thenhesatdazingforamomentinsilent amazement at a small blue book which lay before him. Across the cover was printed in golden letters PracticalHandbookofBeeCulture. Onlyforoneinstant did the master spy glare at this strangely irrelevant inscription. Thenexthewasgrippedatthebackofhis neckbyagraspofiron,andachloroformedsponge washeldinfrontofhiswrithingface.</s>“Another glass, Watson!” said Mr. Sherlock HolmesasheextendedthebottleofImperialTokay.</s>The thickset chauffeur, who had seated himself by the table, pushed forward his glass with some eagerness.</s>“Itisagoodwine,Holmes.” “Aremarkablewine,Watson. Ourfrienduponthe sofahasassuredmethatitisfromFranzJosef’sspe- cialcellarattheSchoenbrunnPalace. MightItrouble youtoopenthewindow,forchloroformvapourdoes nothelpthepalate.” The safe was ajar, and Holmes standing in front ofitwasremovingdossierafterdossier,swiftlyexam- iningeach,andthenpackingitneatlyinVonBork’s valise. The German lay upon the sofa sleeping ster- torously with a strap round his upper arms and an- otherroundhislegs.</s>“We need not hurry ourselves, Watson. We are safefrominterruption. Wouldyoumindtouchingthe bell? ThereisnooneinthehouseexceptoldMartha, whohasplayedherparttoadmiration. Igotherthe situation here when first I took the matter up. Ah, Martha,youwillbegladtohearthatalliswell.” The pleasant old lady had appeared in the door- way. She curtseyed with a smile to Mr. Holmes, but glancedwithsomeapprehensionatthefigureupon thesofa.</s>“It is all right, Martha. He has not been hurt at all.” “Iamgladofthat,Mr.Holmes. Accordingtohis lightshehasbeenakindmaster. Hewantedmetogo withhiswifetoGermanyyesterday,butthatwould hardlyhavesuitedyourplans,wouldit,sir?” “No,indeed,Martha. SolongasyouwerehereI waseasyinmymind. Wewaitedsometimeforyour signalto-night.” “Itwasthesecretary,sir.” “Iknow. Hiscarpassedours.” “I thought he would never go. I knew that it wouldnotsuityourplans,sir,tofindhimhere.” “No, indeed. Well, it only meant that we waited halfanhourorsountilIsawyourlampgooutand knewthatthecoastwasclear. Youcanreporttome to-morrowinLondon,Martha,atClaridge’sHotel.” “Verygood,sir.” “Isupposeyouhaveeverythingreadytoleave.”“Yes,sir. Hepostedsevenlettersto-day. Ihavethe addressesasusual.” “Very good, Martha. I will look into them to- morrow. Good-night. These papers,” he continued as the old lady vanished, “are not of very great im- portance, for, of course, the information which they represent has been sent off long ago to the German government. Thesearetheoriginalswhichcoldnot safelybegotoutofthecountry.” “Thentheyareofnouse.” “I should not go so far as to say that, Watson.</s>They will at least show our people what is known andwhatisnot. Imaysaythatagoodmanyofthese papers have come through me, and I need not add arethoroughlyuntrustworthy. Itwouldbrightenmy declining years to see a German cruiser navigating theSolentaccordingtothemine-fieldplanswhichI have furnished. But you, Watson”—he stopped his workandtookhisoldfriendbytheshoulders—“I’ve hardlyseenyouinthelightyet. Howhavetheyears usedyou? Youlookthesameblitheboyasever.” “Ifeeltwentyyearsyounger,Holmes. Ihavesel- dom felt so happy as when I got your wire asking me to meet you at Harwich with the car. But you, Holmes—youhavechangedverylittle—saveforthat horriblegoatee.” “Thesearethesacrificesonemakesforone’scoun- try, Watson,” said Holmes, pulling at his little tuft.</s>“To-morrow it will be but a dreadful memory. With my hair cut and a few other superficial changes I shallnodoubtreappearatClaridge’sto-morrowasI wasbeforethisAmericanstunt—Ibegyourpardon, Watson,mywellofEnglishseemstobepermanently defiled—beforethisAmericanjobcamemyway.” “Butyouhaveretired,Holmes. Weheardofyou as living the life of a hermit among your bees and yourbooksinasmallfarmupontheSouthDowns.” “Exactly,Watson. Hereisthefruitofmyleisured ease,themagnumopusofmylatteryears!”Hepicked upthevolumefromthetableandreadoutthewhole title, Practical Handbook of Bee Culture, with Some Ob- servations upon the Segregation of the Queen. “Alone I didit. Beholdthefruitofpensivenightsandlabori- ousdayswhenIwatchedthelittleworkinggangsas onceIwatchedthecriminalworldofLondon.” “Buthowdidyougettoworkagain?” “Ah,Ihaveoftenmarvelledatitmyself. TheFor- eignMinisteraloneIcouldhavewithstood,butwhen thePremieralsodeignedtovisitmyhumbleroof—! Thefactis,Watson,thatthisgentlemanuponthesofa wasabittoogoodforourpeople. Hewasinaclassby himself. Thingsweregoingwrong,andnoonecould understandwhytheyweregoingwrong. Agentswere suspectedorevencaught,buttherewasevidenceof somestrongandsecretcentralforce. Itwasabsolutely necessarytoexposeit. Strongpressurewasbrought upon me to look into the matter. It has cost me two years, Watson, but they have not been devoid of ex- citement. When I say that I started my pilgrimage at Chicago, graduated in an Irish secret society at Buffalo, gave serious trouble to the constabulary at Skibbareen, and so eventually caught the eye of a subordinate agent of Von Bork, who recommended me as a likely man, you will realize that the matter wascomplex. SincethenIhavebeenhonouredbyhis confidence,whichhasnotpreventedmostofhisplans goingsubtlywrongandfiveofhisbestagentsbeing inprison. Iwatchedthem,Watson,andIpickedthem as they ripened. Well, sir, I hope that you are none theworse!” ThelastremarkwasaddressedtoVonBorkhim- self, who after much gasping and blinking had lain quietlylisteningtoHolmes’sstatement. Hebrokeout now into a furious stream of German invective, his faceconvulsedwithpassion. Holmescontinuedhis swift investigation of documents while his prisoner cursedandswore.</s>“Thoughunmusical,Germanisthemostexpres- sive of all languages,” he observed when Von Bork hadstoppedfrompureexhaustion. “Hullo! Hullo!” headdedashelookedhardatthecornerofatracing beforeputtingitinthebox. “Thisshouldputanother birdinthecage. Ihadnoideathatthepaymasterwas such a rascal, though I have long had an eye upon him. MisterVonBork,youhaveagreatdealtoanswer for.” The prisoner had raised himself with some diffi- culty upon the sofa and was staring with a strange mixtureofamazementandhatredathiscaptor.</s>“I shall get level with you, Altamont,” he said, speaking with slow deliberation. “If it takes me all mylifeIshallgetlevelwithyou!” “Theoldsweetsong,”saidHolmes. “Howoften haveIhearditindaysgoneby. Itwasafavoriteditty ofthelatelamentedProfessorMoriarty. ColonelSe- bastianMoranhasalsobeenknowntowarbleit. And yetIliveandkeepbeesupontheSouthDowns.” “Curseyou,youdoubletraitor!”criedtheGerman, strainingagainsthisbondsandglaringmurderfrom hisfuriouseyes.“No, no, it is not so bad as that,” said Holmes, smiling. “Asmyspeechsurelyshowsyou,Mr.Alta- montofChicagohadnoexistenceinfact. Iusedhim andheisgone.” “Thenwhoareyou?” “It is really immaterial who I am, but since the matter seems to interest you, Mr. Von Bork, I may say that this is not my first acquaintance with the members of your family. I have done a good deal ofbusinessinGermanyinthepastandmynameis probablyfamiliartoyou.” “I would wish to know it,” said the Prussian grimly.</s>“It was I who brought about the separation be- tweenIreneAdlerandthelateKingofBohemiawhen yourcousinHeinrichwastheImperialEnvoy. Itwas Ialsowhosavedfrommurder, bytheNihilistKlop- man,CountVonundZuGrafenstein,whowasyour mother’selderbrother. ItwasI—” VonBorksatupinamazement.</s>“Thereisonlyoneman,”hecried.</s>“Exactly,”saidHolmes.</s>Von Bork groaned and sank back on the sofa.</s>“Andmostofthatinformationcamethroughyou,”he cried. “Whatisitworth? WhathaveIdone? Itismy ruinforever!” “Itiscertainlyalittleuntrustworthy,”saidHolmes.</s>“Itwillrequiresomecheckingandyouhavelittletime to check it. Your admiral may find the new guns rather larger than he expects, and the cruisers per- hapsatriflefaster.” VonBorkclutchedathisownthroatindespair.</s>“There are a good many other points of detail whichwill,nodoubt,cometolightingoodtime. But youhaveonequalitywhichisveryrareinaGerman, Mr.VonBork: youareasportsmanandyouwillbear me no ill-will when you realize that you, who have outwitted so many other people, have at last been outwittedyourself. Afterall,youhavedoneyourbest foryourcountry,andIhavedonemybestformine, andwhatcouldbemorenatural? Besides,”headded, notunkindly,ashelaidhishandupontheshoulderof theprostrateman,“itisbetterthantofallbeforesome ignoblefoe. Thesepapersarenowready,Watson. If you will help me with our prisoner, I think that we maygetstartedforLondonatonce.” ItwasnoeasytasktomoveVonBork,forhewas astrongandadesperateman. Finally,holdingeither arm, the twofriends walked himvery slowly down thegardenwalkwhichhehadtrodwithsuchproud confidence when he received the congratulations of thefamousdiplomatistonlyafewhoursbefore. Af- terashort,finalstrugglehewashoisted,stillbound handandfoot,intothespareseatofthelittlecar. His preciousvalisewaswedgedinbesidehim.</s>“I trust that you are as comfortable as circum- stancespermit,”saidHolmeswhenthefinalarrange- mentsweremade. “ShouldIbeguiltyofalibertyifI litacigarandplaceditbetweenyourlips?” But all amenities were wasted upon the angry German.</s>“Isupposeyourealize,Mr.SherlockHolmes,”said he, “that if your government bears you out in this treatmentitbecomesanactofwar.” “What about your government and all this treat- ment?”saidHolmes,tappingthevalise.</s>“You are a private individual. You have no war- rantformyarrest. Thewholeproceedingisabsolutely illegalandoutrageous.” “Absolutely,”saidHolmes.</s>“KidnappingaGermansubject.” “Andstealinghisprivatepapers.” “Well, you realize your position, you and your accomplicehere. IfIweretoshoutforhelpaswepass throughthevillage—” “My dear sir, if you did anything so foolish you wouldprobablyenlargethetwolimitedtitlesofour villageinnsbygivingus‘TheDanglingPrussian’asa signpost. TheEnglishmanisapatientcreature,butat present his temper is a little inflamed, and it would be as well not to try him too far. No, Mr. Von Bork, you will go with us in a quiet, sensible fashion to ScotlandYard,whenceyoucansendforyourfriend, BaronVonHerling,andseeifevennowyoumaynot fillthatplacewhichhehasreservedforyouintheam- bassadorialsuite. Astoyou,Watson,youarejoining uswithyouroldservice,asIunderstand,soLondon won’tbeoutofyourway. Standwithmehereupon the terrace, for it may be the last quiet talk that we shalleverhave.” The two friends chatted in intimate converse for a few minutes, recalling once again the days of the past, while their prisoner vainly wriggled to undo the bonds that held him. As they turned to the car Holmespointedbacktothemoonlitseaandshooka thoughtfulhead.</s>“There’saneastwindcoming,Watson.” “Ithinknot,Holmes. Itisverywarm.” “Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There’s an east wind coming all thesame,suchawindasneverblewonEnglandyet.It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many ofusmaywitherbeforeitsblast. Butit’sGod’sown windnonetheless,andacleaner,better,strongerland will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared.</s>Startherup,Watson,forit’stimethatwewereonour way. I have a check for five hundred pounds which shouldbecashedearly,forthedrawerisquitecapable ofstoppingitifhecan.”Pre I fear that Mr. Sherlock Holmes may becom outlivedtheirtime,arestilltemptedtomakerep Thismustceaseandhemustgothewayofallfl thereissomefantasticlimboforthechildrenofi thebeauxofFieldingmaystillmakelovetotheb strut, Dickens’s delightful Cockneys still raise carryontheirreprehensiblecareers. Perhapsin andhisWatsonmayforatimefindaplace,wh astutecomrademayfillthestagewhichtheyha Hiscareerhasbeenalongone—thoughitis approach me and declare that his adventures f theresponsefrommewhichtheyseemtoexpec handledsounkindly. Asamatterofcoldfact,H in The Sign of Four, two small booklets which that“AScandalinBohemia,”thefirstofthelon Magazine. Thepublicseemedappreciativeandd yearsago,theyhavebeenproducedinabroken stories,republishedinTheAdventures,TheMe remainthesetwelvepublishedduringthelastfew TheCaseBookofSherlockHolmes. Hebeganhis era,carrieditthroughtheall-too-shortreignof nicheeveninthesefeverishdays. Thusitwould youngmen,havelivedtoseetheirowngrown- samemagazine. Itisastrikingexampleofthep Ihadfullydeterminedattheconclusionof thatmyliteraryenergiesshouldnotbedirected faceandloose-limbedfigureweretakingupanu fortunatelynocoronerhadpronounceduponth difficultformetorespondtotheflatteringdema regrettedit,forIhavenotinactualpracticefou fromexploringandfindingmylimitationsinsu historical novels, psychic research, and the dra donemore,thoughhemayperhapshavestood seriousliterarywork.</s>Andso,reader,farewelltoSherlockHolmes! hopethatsomereturnhasbeenmadeinthesha stimulatingchangeofthoughtwhichcanonlyb face e like one of those popular tenors who, having eatedfarewellbowstotheirindulgentaudiences.</s>esh,materialorimaginary. Onelikestothinkthat magination,somestrange,impossibleplacewhere ellesofRichardson,whereScott’sheroesstillmay a laugh, and Thackeray’s worldlings continue to somehumblecornerofsuchaValhalla,Sherlock ilesomemoreastutesleuthwithsomeevenless vevacated.</s>possibletoexaggerateit;decrepitgentlemenwho ormed the reading of their boyhood do not meet . Oneisnotanxioustohaveone’spersonaldates HolmesmadehisdebutinAStudyinScarletand appeared between 1887 and 1889. It was in 1891 ngseriesofshortstories,appearedinTheStrand esirousofmore,sothatfromthatdate,thirty-nine serieswhichnowcontainsnofewerthanfifty-six moirs,TheReturn,andHisLastBow. Andthere wyearswhicharehereproducedunderthetitleof adventuresintheveryheartofthelaterVictorian Edward,andhasmanagedtoholdhisownlittle betruetosaythatthosewhofirstreadofhim,as upchildrenfollowingthesameadventuresinthe atienceandloyaltyoftheBritishpublic.</s>TheMemoirstobringHolmestoanend,asIfelt toomuchintoonechannel. Thatpale,clear-cut ndueshareofmyimagination. Ididthedeed,but eremains,andso,afteralonginterval,itwasnot ndandtoexplainmyrashactaway. Ihavenever ndthattheselightersketcheshavepreventedme chvariedbranchesofliteratureashistory,poetry, ma. Had Holmes never existed I could not have alittleinthewayoftherecognitionofmymore Ithankyouforyourpastconstancy,andcanbut peofthatdistractionfromtheworriesoflifeand efoundinthefairykingdomofromance.</s>ArthurConanDoylet can’t hurt now,” was Mr. Sherlock Holmes’scommentwhen,forthetenthtime inasmanyyears,Iaskedhisleavetoreveal I the following narrative. So it was that at lastIobtainedpermissiontoputonrecordwhatwas, in some ways, the supreme moment of my friend’s career.</s>BothHolmesandIhadaweaknessfortheTurkish bath. Itwasoverasmokeinthepleasantlassitudeof the drying-room that I have found him less reticent andmorehumanthananywhereelse. Ontheupper floor of the Northumberland Avenue establishment thereisanisolatedcornerwheretwocoucheslieside byside,anditwasonthesethatwelayuponSeptem- ber3,1902,thedaywhenmynarrativebegins. Ihad asked him whether anything was stirring, and for answer he had shot his long, thin, nervous arm out of the sheets which enveloped him and had drawn anenvelopefromtheinsidepocketofthecoatwhich hungbesidehim.</s>“Itmaybesomefussy,self-importantfool;itmay be a matter of life or death,” said he as he handed methenote. “Iknownomorethanthismessagetells me.” It was from the Carlton Club and dated the eveningbefore. ThisiswhatIread: Sir James Damery presents his compli- ments to Mr. Sherlock Holmes and will calluponhimat4.30to-morrow. SirJames begstosaythatthematteruponwhichhe desirestoconsultMr.Holmesisverydel- icate and also very important. He trusts, therefore, that Mr. Holmes will make ev- eryefforttograntthisinterview,andthat hewillconfirmitoverthetelephonetothe CarltonClub.</s>“IneednotsaythatIhaveconfirmedit,Watson,” saidHolmesasIreturnedthepaper. “Doyouknow anythingofthismanDamery?” “Onlythatthisnameisahouseholdwordinsoci- ety.” “Well, I can tell you a little more than that. He hasratherareputationforarrangingdelicatematters which are to be kept out of the papers. You may re- memberhisnegotiationswithSirGeorgeLewisover theHammerfordWillcase. Heisamanoftheworld withanaturalturnfordiplomacy. Iambound,there- fore,tohopethatitisnotafalsescentandthathehas somerealneedforourassistance.” “Our?” “Well,ifyouwillbesogood,Watson.” “Ishallbehonoured.” “Thenyouhavethehour—4.30. Untilthenwecan putthematteroutofourheads.” I was living in my own rooms in Queen Anne Streetatthetime,butIwasroundatBakerStreetbe- forethetimenamed. Sharptothehalf-hour,Colonel Sir James Damery was announced. It is hardly nec- essarytodescribehim,formanywillrememberthat large, bluff, honest personality, that broad, clean- shaven face, and, above all, that pleasant, mellow voice. FranknessshonefromhisgrayIrisheyes,and goodhumourplayedroundhismobile,smilinglips.</s>Hislucenttop-hat,hisdarkfrock-coat,indeed,every detail,fromthepearlpinintheblacksatincravatto the lavender spats over the varnished shoes, spoke of the meticulous care in dress for which he was fa- mous. The big, masterful aristocrat dominated the littleroom.</s>“Ofcourse,IwaspreparedtofindDr.Watson,”he remarked with a courteous bow. “His collaboration may be very necessary, for we are dealing on this occasion,Mr.Holmes,withamantowhomviolence isfamiliarandwhowill,literally,stickatnothing. I should say that there is no more dangerous man in Europe.” “Ihavehadseveralopponentstowhomthatflat- tering term has been applied,” said Holmes with a smile. “Don’tyousmoke? Thenyouwillexcusemeif Ilightmypipe. Ifyourmanismoredangerousthan thelateProfessorMoriarty,orthanthelivingColonel Sebastian Moran, then he is indeed worth meeting.</s>MayIaskhisname?” “HaveyoueverheardofBaronGruner?” “YoumeantheAustrianmurderer?” Colonel Damery threw up his kid-gloved hands with a laugh. “There is no getting past you, Mr.</s>Holmes! Wonderful! Soyouhavealreadysizedhim upasamurderer?” “It is my business to follow the details of Conti- nental crime. Who could possibly have read what happened at Prague and have any doubts as to the man’sguilt! Itwasapurelytechnicallegalpointand the suspicious death of a witness that saved him! I amassurethathekilledhiswifewhentheso-called ‘accident’ happened in the Splugen Pass as if I had seen him do it. I knew, also, that he had come to Englandandhadapresentimentthatsoonerorlater he would find me some work to do. Well, what has BaronGrunerbeenupto? Ipresumeitisnotthisold tragedywhichhascomeupagain?”“No,itismoreseriousthanthat. Torevengecrime is important, but to prevent it is more so. It is a ter- rible thing, Mr. Holmes, to see a dreadful event, an atrocioussituation,preparingitselfbeforeyoureyes, toclearlyunderstandwhitheritwillleadandyetto be utterly unable to avert it. Can a human being be placedinamoretryingposition?” “Perhapsnot.” “Then you will sympathize with the client in whoseinterestsIamacting.” “I did not understand that you were merely an intermediary. Whoistheprincipal?” “Mr. Holmes, I must beg you not to press that question. It is important that I should be able to as- surehimthathishonourednamehasbeeninnoway draggedintothematter. Hismotivesare,tothelast degree, honourable and chivalrous, but he prefers to remain unknown. I need not say that your fees willbeassuredandthatyouwillbegivenaperfectly free hand. Surely the actual name of your client is immaterial?” “I am sorry,” said Holmes. “I am accustomed to have mystery at one end of my cases, but to have it atbothendsistooconfusing. Ifear,SirJames,thatI mustdeclinetoact.” Ourvisitorwasgreatlydisturbed. Hislarge,sensi- tivefacewasdarkenedwithemotionanddisappoint- ment.</s>“Youhardlyrealizetheeffectofyourownaction, Mr.Holmes,”saidhe. “Youplacemeinamostserious dilemma, for I am perfectly certain that you would beproudtotakeoverthecaseifIcouldgiveyouthe facts, and yet a promise forbids me from revealing themall. MayI,atleast,layallthatIcanbeforeyou?” “By all means, so long as it is understood that I commitmyselftonothing.” “That is understood. In the first place, you have nodoubtheardofGeneraldeMerville?” “De Merville of Khyber fame? Yes, I have heard ofhim.” “He has a daughter, Violet de Merville, young, rich,beautiful,accomplished,awonder-womaninev- eryway. Itisthisdaughter,thislovely,innocentgirl, whomweareendeavouringtosavefromtheclutches ofafiend.” “BaronGrunerhassomeholdoverher,then?” “Thestrongestofallholdswhereawomaniscon- cerned—the hold of love. The fellow is, as you may have heard, extraordinarily handsome, with a most fascinating manner, a gentle voice, and that air of romance and mystery which means so much to a woman. Heissaidtohavethewholesexathismercy andtohavemadeampleuseofthefact.” “Buthowcamesuchamantomeetaladyofthe standingofMissVioletdeMerville?” “ItwasonaMediterraneanyachtingvoyage. The company,thoughselect,paidtheirownpassages. No doubtthepromotershardlyrealizedtheBaron’strue character until it was too late. The villain attached himselftothelady,andwithsucheffectthathehas completelyandabsolutelywonherheart. Tosaythat she loves him hardly expresses it. She dotes upon him;sheisobsessedbyhim. Outsideofhimthereis nothingonearth. Shewillnothearonewordagainst him. Everything has been done to cure her of her madness, but in vain. To sum up, she proposes to marry him next month. As she is of age and has a willofiron,itishardtoknowhowtopreventher.” “DoessheknowabouttheAustrianepisode?” “Thecunningdevilhastoldhereveryunsavoury public scandal of his past life, but always in such a wayastomakehimselfouttobeaninnocentmartyr.</s>She absolutely accepts his version and will listen to noother.” “Dear me! But surely you have inadvertently let out the name of your client? It is no doubt General deMerville.” Ourvisitorfidgetedinhischair.</s>“I could deceive you by saying so, Mr. Holmes, but it would not be true. De Merville is a broken man. Thestrongsoldierhasbeenutterlydemoralized by this incident. He has lost the nerve which never failedhimonthebattlefieldandhasbecomeaweak, dodderingoldman,utterlyincapableofcontending withabrilliant,forcefulrascallikethisAustrian. My client,however,isanoldfriend,onewhohasknown theGeneralintimatelyformanyyearsandtakenapa- ternalinterestinthisyounggirlsincesheworeshort frocks. Hecannotseethistragedyconsummatedwith- outsomeattempttostopit. Thereisnothinginwhich Scotland Yard can act. It was his own suggestion that you should be called in, but it was, as I have said,ontheexpressstipulationthatheshouldnotbe personally involved in the matter. I have no doubt, Mr.Holmes,withyourgreatpowersyoucouldeasily tracemyclientbackthroughme,butImustaskyou, as a point of honour, to refrain from doing so, and nottobreakinuponhisincognito.” Holmesgaveawhimsicalsmile.</s>“I think I may safely promise that,” said he. “I may add that your problem interests me, and that Ishallbepreparedtolookintoit. HowshallIkeepin touchwithyou?” “The Carlton Club will find me. But in case of emergency,thereisaprivatetelephonecall,‘XX.31.’” Holmesnoteditdownandsat,stillsmiling,with theopenmemorandum-bookuponhisknee.</s>“TheBaron’spresentaddress,please?” “VernonLodge,nearKingston. Itisalargehouse.</s>Hehasbeenfortunateinsomerathershadyspecula- tionsandisarichman,whichnaturallymakeshima moredangerousantagonist.” “Isheathomeatpresent?” “Yes.” “Apartfromwhatyouhavetoldme,canyougive meanyfurtherinformationabouttheman?” “He has expensive tastes. He is a horse fancier.</s>For a short time he played polo at Hurlingham, but thenthisPragueaffairgotnoisedaboutandhehad toleave. Hecollectsbooksandpictures. Heisaman withaconsiderableartisticsidetohisnature. Heis,I believe,arecognizedauthorityuponChinesepottery andhaswrittenabookuponthesubject.” “Acomplexmind,”saidHolmes. “Allgreatcrim- inals have that. My old friend Charlie Peace was a violin virtuoso. Wainwright was no mean artist. I could quote many more. Well, Sir James, you will informyourclientthatIamturningmymindupon BaronGruner. Icansaynomore. Ihavesomesources of information of my own, and I dare say we may findsomemeansofopeningthematterup.” When our visitor had left us Holmes sat so long indeepthoughtthatitseemedtomethathehadfor- gottenmypresence. Atlast,however,hecamebriskly backtoearth.</s>“Well,Watson,anyviews?”heasked.</s>“Ishouldthinkyouhadbetterseetheyounglady herself.” “My dear Watson, if her poor old broken father cannotmoveher,howshallI,astranger,prevail? And yetthereissomethinginthesuggestionifallelsefails.</s>But I think we must begin from a different angle. I ratherfancythatShinwellJohnsonmightbeahelp.” IhavenothadoccasiontomentionShinwellJohn- son in these memoirs because I have seldom drawn mycasesfromthelatterphasesofmyfriend’scareer.</s>Duringthefirstyearsofthecenturyhebecameavalu- ableassistant. Johnson,Igrievetosay,madehisname firstasaverydangerousvillainandservedtwoterms atParkhurst. Finallyherepentedandalliedhimself to Holmes, acting as his agent in the huge criminal underworld of London and obtaining information which often proved to be of vital importance. Had Johnson been a “nark” of the police he would soon havebeenexposed,butashedealtwithcaseswhich nevercamedirectlyintothecourts,hisactivitieswere neverrealizedbyhiscompanions. Withtheglamour of his two convictions upon him, he had the entree ofeverynight-club,dosshouse,andgambling-denin thetown,andhisquickobservationandactivebrain madehimanidealagentforgaininginformation. It was to him that Sherlock Holmes now proposed to turn.</s>Itwasnotpossibleformetofollowtheimmediate steps taken by my friend, for I had some pressing professionalbusinessofmyown,butImethimbyap- pointmentthateveningatSimpson’s,where,sittingat asmalltableinthefrontwindowandlookingdown attherushingstreamoflifeintheStrand,hetoldme somethingofwhathadpassed.</s>“Johnsonisontheprowl,”saidhe. “Hemaypick upsomegarbageinthedarkerrecessesoftheunder- world, for it is down there, amid the black roots of crime,thatwemusthuntforthisman’ssecrets.” “But if the lady will not accept what is already known,whyshouldanyfreshdiscoveryofyoursturn herfromherpurpose?” “Whoknows,Watson? Woman’sheartandmind areinsolublepuzzlestothemale. Murdermightbe condonedorexplained,andyetsomesmalleroffence mightrankle. BaronGrunerremarkedtome—” “Heremarkedtoyou!” “Oh, to be sure, I had not told you of my plans.</s>Well, Watson, I love to come to close grips with my man. I like to meet him eye to eye and read for my- self the stuff that he is made of. When I had given JohnsonhisinstructionsItookacabouttoKingston andfoundtheBaroninamostaffablemood.” “Didherecognizeyou?” “There was no difficulty about that, for I simply sent in my card. He is an excellent antagonist, cool asice,silkyvoicedandsoothingasoneofyourfash- ionable consultants, and poisonous as a cobra. He hasbreedinginhim—arealaristocratofcrime,with a superficial suggestion of afternoon tea and all the crueltyofthegravebehindit. Yes,Iamgladtohave hadmyattentioncalledtoBaronAdelbertGruner.” “Yousayhewasaffable?” “A purring cat who thinks he sees prospective mice. Some people’s affability is more deadly than theviolenceofcoarsersouls. Hisgreetingwascharac- teristic. ‘IratherthoughtIshouldseeyousoonerorlater,Mr.Holmes,’saidhe. ‘Youhavebeenengaged, no doubt by General de Merville, to endeavour to stop my marriage with his daughter, Violet. That is so,isitnot?’ “Iacquiesced.</s>“‘Mydearman,’saidhe,‘youwillonlyruinyour own well-deserved reputation. It is not a case in whichyoucanpossiblysucceed. Youwillhavebarren work, to say nothing of incurring some danger. Let meverystronglyadviseyoutodrawoffatonce.’ “‘Itiscurious,’Ianswered,‘butthatwasthevery advice which I had intended to give you. I have a respectforyourbrains,Baron,andthelittlewhichI haveseenofyourpersonalityhasnotlessenedit. Let meputittoyouasmantoman. Noonewantstorake up your past and make you unduly uncomfortable.</s>It is over, and you are now in smooth waters, but if youpersistinthismarriageyouwillraiseupaswarm ofpowerfulenemieswhowillneverleaveyoualone untiltheyhavemadeEnglandtoohottoholdyou. Is thegameworthit? Surelyyouwouldbewiserifyou lefttheladyalone. Itwouldnotbepleasantforyouif thesefactsofyourpastwerebroughttohernotice.’ “TheBaronhaslittlewaxedtipsofhairunderhis nose,liketheshortantennaeofaninsect. Thesequiv- ered with amusement as he listened, and he finally brokeintoagentlechuckle.</s>“‘Excuse my amusement, Mr. Holmes,’ said he, ‘butitisreallyfunnytoseeyoutryingtoplayahand withnocardsinit. Idon’tthinkanyonecoulddoit better, but it is rather pathetic, all the same. Not a colourcardthere,Mr.Holmes,nothingbutthesmall- estofthesmall.’ “‘Soyouthink.’ “‘SoIknow. Letmemakethethingcleartoyou, formyownhandissostrongthatIcanaffordtoshow it. Ihavebeenfortunateenoughtowintheentireaf- fectionofthislady. Thiswasgiventomeinspiteof thefactthatItoldherveryclearlyofalltheunhappy incidents in my past life. I also told her that certain wickedanddesigningpersons—Ihopeyourecognize yourself—wouldcometoherandtellherthesethings, andIwarnedherhowtotreatthem. Youhaveheard ofpost-hypnoticsuggestion,Mr.Holmes? Well,you willseehowitworks,foramanofpersonalitycanuse hypnotismwithoutanyvulgarpassesortomfoolery.</s>Sosheisreadyforyouand,Ihavenodoubt,would giveyouanappointment,forsheisquiteamenableto herfather’swill—saveonlyintheonelittlematter.’ “Well, Watson, there seemed to be no more to say, so I took my leave with as much cold dignity as I could summon, but, as I had my hand on the door-handle,hestoppedme.</s>“‘Bytheway,Mr.Holmes,’saidhe,‘didyouknow LeBrun,theFrenchagent?’ “‘Yes,’saidI.</s>“‘Doyouknowwhatbefellhim?’ “‘IheardthathewasbeatenbysomeApachesin theMontmartredistrictandcrippledforlife.’ “‘Quite true, Mr. Holmes. By a curious coinci- dence he had been inquiring into my affairs only a weekbefore. Don’tdoit,Mr.Holmes;it’snotalucky thing to do. Several have found that out. My last wordtoyouis,goyourownwayandletmegomine.</s>Good-bye!’ “So there you are, Watson. You are up to date now.” “Thefellowseemsdangerous.” “Mightydangerous. Idisregardtheblusterer,but this is the sort of man who says rather less than he means.” “Must you interfere? Does it really matter if he marriesthegirl?” “Consideringthatheundoubtedlymurderedhis last wife, I should say it mattered very much. Be- sides,theclient! Well,well,weneednotdiscussthat.</s>When you have finished your coffee you had best come home with me, for the blithe Shinwell will be therewithhisreport.” We found him sure enough, a huge, coarse, red- faced,scorbuticman,withapairofvividblackeyes whichweretheonlyexternalsignoftheverycunning mind within. It seems that he had dived down into whatwaspeculiarlyhiskingdom,andbesidehimon the settee was a brand which he had brought up in theshapeofaslim,flame-likeyoungwomanwitha pale,intenseface,youthful,andyetsowornwithsin andsorrowthatonereadtheterribleyearswhichhad lefttheirleprousmarkuponher.</s>“ThisisMissKittyWinter,”saidShinwellJohnson, waving his fat hand as an introduction. “What she don’tknow—well,there,she’llspeakforherself. Put myhandrightonher,Mr.Holmes,withinanhourof yourmessage.” “I’measytofind,”saidtheyoungwoman. “Hell, London,getsmeeverytime. SameaddressforPorky Shinwell. We’reoldmates,Porky,youandI.But,by cripes! there is another who ought to be down in a lower hell than we if there was any justice in the world! Thatisthemanyouareafter,Mr.Holmes.”Holmes smiled. “I gather we have your good wishes,MissWinter.” “If I can help to put him where he belongs, I’m yourstotherattle,”saidourvisitorwithfierceenergy.</s>Therewasanintensityofhatredinherwhite,setface andherblazingeyessuchaswomanseldomandman never can attain. “You needn’t go into my past, Mr.</s>Holmes. That’sneitherherenorthere. ButwhatIam AdelbertGrunermademe. IfIcouldpullhimdown!” She clutched frantically with her hands into the air.</s>“Oh,ifIcouldonlypullhimintothepitwherehehas pushedsomany!” “Youknowhowthematterstands?” “Porky Shinwell has been telling me. He’s after some other poor fool and wants to marry her this time. You want to stop it. Well, you surely know enough about this devil to prevent any decent girl inhersenses wantingto beinthesameparish with him.” “Sheisnotinhersenses. Sheismadlyinlove. She hasbeentoldallabouthim. Shecaresnothing.” “Toldaboutthemurder?” “Yes.” “MyLord,shemusthaveanerve!” “Sheputsthemalldownasslanders.” “Couldn’tyoulayproofsbeforehersillyeyes?” “Well,canyouhelpusdoso?” “Ain’tIaproofmyself? IfIstoodbeforeherand toldherhowheusedme—” “Wouldyoudothis?” “WouldI?WouldInot!” “Well, it might be worth trying. But he has told hermostofhissinsandhadpardonfromher,andI understandshewillnotreopenthequestion.” “I’ll lay he didn’t tell her all,” said Miss Winter.</s>“I caught a glimpse of one or two murders besides the one that made such a fuss. He would speak of someoneinhisvelvetwayandthenlookatmewith a steady eye and say: ‘He died within a month.’ It wasn’t hot air, either. But I took little notice—you see,Ilovedhimmyselfatthattime. Whateverhedid wentwithme,sameaswiththispoorfool! Therewas justonethingthatshookme. Yes,bycripes! ifithad notbeenforhispoisonous,lyingtonguethatexplains and soothes, I’d have left him that very night. It’s a bookhehas—abrownleatherbookwithalock,and hisarmsingoldontheoutside. Ithinkhewasabit drunk that night, or he would not have shown it to me.” “Whatwasit,then?” “Itellyou,Mr.Holmes,thismancollectswomen, andtakesaprideinhiscollection,assomemencollect mothsorbutterflies. Hehaditallinthatbook. Snap- shot photographs, names, details, everything about them. Itwasabeastlybook—abooknoman,evenif hehadcomefromthegutter,couldhaveputtogether.</s>ButitwasAdelbertGruner’sbookallthesame. ‘Souls Ihaveruined.’ Hecouldhaveputthatontheoutside if he had been so minded. However, that’s neither herenorthere,forthebookwouldnotserveyou,and, ifitwould,youcan’tgetit.” “Whereisit?” “How can I tell you where it is now? It’s more thanayearsinceIlefthim. Iknowwherehekeptit then. He’saprecise,tidycatofamaninmanyofhis ways,somaybeitisstillinthepigeon-holeoftheold bureauintheinnerstudy. Doyouknowhishouse?” “I’vebeeninthestudy,”saidHolmes.</s>“Have you, though? You haven’t been slow on thejobifyouonlystartedthismorning. Maybedear Adelberthasmethismatchthistime. Theouterstudy istheonewiththeChinesecrockeryinit—bigglass cupboard between the windows. Then behind his deskisthedoorthatleadstotheinnerstudy—asmall roomwherehekeepspapersandthings.” “Ishenotafraidofburglars?” “Adelbertisnocoward. Hisworstenemycouldn’t say that of him. He can look after himself. There’s a burglar alarm at night. Besides, what is there for a burglar—unless they got away with all this fancy crockery?” “No good,” said Shinwell Johnson with the de- cided voice of the expert. “No fence wants stuff of thatsortthatyoucanneithermeltnorsell.” “Quiteso,”saidHolmes. “Well,now,MissWinter, if you would call here to-morrow evening at five, I wouldconsiderinthemeanwhilewhetheryoursug- gestion of seeing this lady personally may not be arranged. I am exceedingly obliged to you for your cooperation. Ineednotsaythatmyclientswillcon- siderliberally—” “None of that, Mr. Holmes,” cried the young woman. “I am not out for money. Let me see this maninthemud,andI’vegotallI’veworkedfor—in themudwithmyfootonhiscursedface. That’smy price. I’m with you to-morrow or any other day so longasyouareonhistrack. Porkyherecantellyou alwayswheretofindme.” I did not see Holmes again until the following evening when we dined once more at our Strandrestaurant. HeshruggedhisshoulderswhenIasked himwhatluckhehadhadinhisinterview. Thenhe toldthestory,whichIwouldrepeatinthisway. His hard,drystatementneedssomelittleeditingtosoften itintothetermsofreallife.</s>“Therewasnodifficultyatallabouttheappoint- ment,”saidHolmes,“forthegirlgloriesinshowing abject filial obedience in all secondary things in an attempt to atone for her flagrant breach of it in her engagement. TheGeneral’phonedthatallwasready, andthefieryMissW.turnedupaccordingtoschedule, sothatathalf-pastfiveacabdepositedusoutside104 BerkeleySquare,wheretheoldsoldierresides—one ofthoseawfulgrayLondoncastleswhichwouldmake achurchseemfrivolous. Afootmanshowedusintoa greatyellow-curtaineddrawing-room,andtherewas theladyawaitingus,demure,pale,self-contained,as inflexibleandremoteasasnowimageonamountain.</s>“Idon’tquiteknowhowtomakehercleartoyou, Watson. Perhaps you may meet her before we are through,andyoucanuseyourowngiftofwords. She isbeautiful,butwiththeetherealother-worldbeauty ofsomefanaticwhosethoughtsaresetonhigh. Ihave seen such faces in the pictures of the old masters of theMiddleAges. Howabeastmancouldhavelaidhis vilepawsuponsuchabeingofthebeyondIcannot imagine. Youmayhavenoticedhowextremescallto eachother,thespiritualtotheanimal,thecave-man totheangel. Youneversawaworsecasethanthis.</s>“Sheknewwhatwehadcomefor,ofcourse—that villainhadlostnotimeinpoisoninghermindagainst us. MissWinter’sadventratheramazedher,Ithink, butshewavedusintoourrespectivechairslikearev- erendabbessreceivingtworatherleprousmendicants.</s>Ifyourheadisinclinedtoswell,mydearWatson,take acourseofMissVioletdeMerville.</s>“‘Well,sir,’saidsheinavoicelikethewindfrom an iceberg, ‘your name is familiar to me. You have called, as I understand, to malign my fiance´, Baron Gruner. Itisonlybymyfather’srequestthatIseeyou atall, andIwarnyouinadvancethatanythingyou can say could not possibly have the slightest effect uponmymind.’ “Iwassorryforher,Watson. Ithoughtofherfor the moment as I would have thought of a daughter ofmyown. Iamnotofteneloquent. Iusemyhead, notmyheart. ButIreallydidpleadwithherwithall thewarmthofwordsthatIcouldfindinmynature.</s>I pictured to her the awful position of the woman whoonlywakestoaman’scharacteraftersheishis wife—awomanwhohastosubmittobecaressedby bloodyhandsandlecherouslips. Isparedhernoth- ing—theshame,thefear,theagony,thehopelessness ofitall. Allmyhotwordscouldnotbringonetingeof colourtothoseivorycheeksoronegleamofemotion tothoseabstractedeyes. Ithoughtofwhattherascal hadsaidaboutapost-hypnoticinfluence. Onecould really believe that she was living above the earth in someecstaticdream. Yettherewasnothingindefinite inherreplies.</s>“‘I have listened to you with patience, Mr.</s>Holmes,’ said she. ‘The effect upon my mind is ex- actlyaspredicted. IamawarethatAdelbert,thatmy fiance´,hashadastormylifeinwhichhehasincurred bitter hatreds and most unjust aspersions. You are onlythelastofaserieswhohavebroughttheirslan- ders before me. Possibly you mean well, though I learnthatyouareapaidagentwhowouldhavebeen equally willing to act for the Baron as against him.</s>But in any case I wish you to understand once for allthatIlovehimandthathelovesme,andthatthe opinion of all the world is no more to me than the twitterofthosebirdsoutsidethewindow. Ifhisnoble naturehaseverforaninstantfallen,itmaybethatI havebeenspeciallysenttoraiseittoitstrueandlofty level. Iamnotclear’—heresheturnedeyesuponmy companion—‘whothisyoungladymaybe.’ “Iwasabouttoanswerwhenthegirlbrokeinlike a whirlwind. If ever you saw flame and ice face to face,itwasthosetwowomen.</s>“‘I’lltellyouwhoIam,’shecried,springingout of her chair, her mouth all twisted with passion—‘I am his last mistress. I am one of a hundred that he has tempted and used and ruined and thrown into therefuseheap,ashewillyoualso. Yourrefuseheap ismorelikelytobeagrave,andmaybethat’sthebest.</s>Itellyou,youfoolishwoman,ifyoumarrythisman he’llbethedeathofyou. Itmaybeabrokenheartor itmaybeabrokenneck,buthe’llhaveyouoneway ortheother. It’snotoutofloveforyouI’mspeaking.</s>Idon’tcareatinker’scursewhetheryouliveordie.</s>It’s out of hate for him and to spite him and to get back on him for what he did to me. But it’s all the same,andyouneedn’tlookatmelikethat,myfine lady,foryoumaybelowerthanIambeforeyouare throughwithit.’ “‘Ishouldprefernottodiscusssuchmatters,’said MissdeMervillecoldly. ‘Letmesayonceforallthat I am aware of three passages in my fiance´’s life in whichhebecameentangledwithdesigningwomen, and that I am assured of his hearty repentance for anyevilthathemayhavedone.’“‘Threepassages!’ screamedmycompanion. ‘You fool! Youunutterablefool!’ “‘Mr.Holmes,Ibegthatyouwillbringthisinter- viewtoanend,’saidtheicyvoice. ‘Ihaveobeyedmy father’swishinseeingyou,butIamnotcompelled tolistentotheravingsofthisperson.’ “WithanoathMissWinterdartedforward,andif Ihadnotcaughtherwristshewouldhaveclutched this maddening woman by the hair. I dragged her towardsthedoorandwasluckytogetherbackinto the cab without a public scene, for she was beside herselfwith rage. Inacold wayI feltpretty furious myself, Watson, for there was something indescrib- ably annoying in the calm aloofness and supreme self-complaisanceofthewomanwhomweweretry- ingtosave. Sonowonceagainyouknowexactlyhow westand,anditisclearthatImustplansomefresh openingmove,forthisgambitwon’twork. I’llkeep intouchwithyou,Watson,foritismorethanlikely thatyouwillhaveyourparttoplay,thoughitisjust possiblethatthenextmovemayliewiththemrather thanwithus.” Anditdid. Theirblowfell—orhisblowrather,for never could I believe that the lady was privy to it. I think I could show you the very paving-stone upon which I stood when my eyes fell upon the placard, and a pang of horror passed through my very soul.</s>It was between the Grand Hotel and Charing Cross Station, where a one-legged news-vender displayed hiseveningpapers. Thedatewasjusttwodaysafter thelastconversation. There,blackuponyellow,was theterriblenews-sheet: MurderousAttackUponSherlock Holmes I think I stood stunned for some moments. Then I haveaconfusedrecollectionofsnatchingatapaper, oftheremonstranceoftheman,whomIhadnotpaid, and,finally,ofstandinginthedoorwayofachemist’s shop while I turned up the fateful paragraph. This washowitran: We learn with regret that Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the well-known private detective, was the victim this morning of a murder- ous assault which has left him in a precar- ious position. There are no exact details to hand, but the event seems to have occurred abouttwelveo’clockinRegentStreet,outside the Cafe Royal. The attack was made by two men armed with sticks, and Mr. Holmes was beaten about the head and body, receiving in- jurieswhichthedoctorsdescribeasmostseri- ous. HewascarriedtoCharingCrossHospi- tal and afterwards insisted upon being taken to his rooms in Baker Street. The miscre- antswhoattackedhimappeartohavebeenre- spectably dressed men, who escaped from the bystandersbypassingthroughtheCafeRoyal and out into Glasshouse Street behind it. No doubt they belonged to that criminal frater- nitywhichhassooftenhadoccasiontobewail theactivityandingenuityoftheinjuredman.</s>Ineednotsaythatmyeyeshadhardlyglancedover theparagraphbeforeIhadsprungintoahansomand was on my way to Baker Street. I found Sir Leslie Oakshott, the famous surgeon, in the hall and his broughamwaitingatthecurb.</s>“Noimmediatedanger,”washisreport. “Twolac- eratedscalpwoundsandsomeconsiderablebruises.</s>Several stitches have been necessary. Morphine has beeninjectedandquietisessential,butaninterview ofafewminuteswouldnotbeabsolutelyforbidden.” With this permission I stole into the darkened room. The sufferer was wide awake, and I heard my name in a hoarse whisper. The blind was three-quartersdown,butonerayofsunlightslanted throughandstruckthebandagedheadoftheinjured man. Acrimsonpatchhadsoakedthroughthewhite linencompress. Isatbesidehimandbentmyhead.</s>“Allright,Watson. Don’tlooksoscared,”hemut- tered in a very weak voice. “It’s not as bad as it seems.” “ThankGodforthat!” “I’mabitofasingle-stickexpert,asyouknow. I took most of them on my guard. It was the second manthatwastoomuchforme.” “What can I do, Holmes? Of course, it was that damned fellow who set them on. I’ll go and thrash thehideoffhimifyougivetheword.” “GoodoldWatson! No,wecandonothingthere unless the police lay their hands on the men. But their get-away had been well prepared. We may be sure of that. Wait a little. I have my plans. The first thing is to exaggerate my injuries. They’ll come to youfornews. Putitonthick,Watson. LuckyifIlive theweekout—concussion—delirium—whatyoulike! Youcan’toverdoit.” “ButSirLeslieOakshott?” “Oh,he’sallright. Heshallseetheworstsideof me. I’lllookafterthat.” “Anythingelse?” “Yes. TellShinwellJohnsontogetthatgirloutof the way. Those beauties will be after her now. They know,ofcourse,thatshewaswithmeinthecase. Iftheydaredtodomeinitisnotlikelytheywillneglect her. Thatisurgent. Doitto-night.” “I’llgonow. Anythingmore?” “Put my pipe on the table—and the tobacco- slipper. Right! Come in each morning and we will planourcampaign.” IarrangedwithJohnsonthateveningtotakeMiss Wintertoaquietsuburbandseethatshelaylowuntil thedangerwaspast.</s>Forsixdaysthepublicwereundertheimpression thatHolmeswasatthedoorofdeath. Thebulletins were very grave and there were sinister paragraphs in the papers. My continual visits assured me that it was not so bad as that. His wiry constitution and hisdeterminedwillwereworkingwonders. Hewas recoveringfast,andIhadsuspicionsattimesthathe was really finding himself faster than he pretended eventome. Therewasacurioussecretivestreakinthe manwhichledtomanydramaticeffects,butlefteven hisclosestfriendguessingastowhathisexactplans might be. He pushed to an extreme the axiom that theonlysafeplotterwashewhoplottedalone. Iwas nearer him than anyone else, and yet I was always consciousofthegapbetween.</s>On the seventh day the stitches were taken out, in spite of which there was a report of erysipelas in theeveningpapers. Thesameeveningpapershadan announcement which I was bound, sick or well, to carrytomyfriend. Itwassimplythatamongthepas- sengers on the Cunard boat Ruritania, starting from LiverpoolonFriday,wastheBaronAdelbertGruner, whohadsomeimportantfinancialbusinesstosettle intheStatesbeforehisimpendingweddingtoMiss VioletdeMerville,onlydaughterof,etc.,etc. Holmes listened to the news with a cold, concentrated look uponhispaleface,whichtoldmethatithithimhard.</s>“Friday!” he cried. “Only three clear days. I be- lievetherascalwantstoputhimselfoutofdanger’s way. But he won’t, Watson! By the Lord Harry, he won’t! Now,Watson,Iwantyoutodosomethingfor me.” “Iamheretobeused,Holmes.” “Well,then,spendthenexttwenty-fourhoursin anintensivestudyofChinesepottery.” HegavenoexplanationsandIaskedfornone. By long experience I had learned the wisdom of obedi- ence. But when I had left his room I walked down BakerStreet,revolvinginmyheadhowonearthIwas tocarryoutsostrangeanorder. FinallyIdrovetothe LondonLibraryinSt.James’sSquare,putthematter tomyfriendLomax,thesublibrarian,anddeparted tomyroomswithagoodlyvolumeundermyarm.</s>It is said that the barrister who crams up a case withsuchcarethathecanexamineanexpertwitness upontheMondayhasforgottenallhisforcedknowl- edgebeforetheSaturday. CertainlyIshouldnotlike now to pose as an authority upon ceramics. And yet all that evening, and all that night with a short interval for rest, and all next morning, I was suck- inginknowledgeandcommittingnamestomemory.</s>There I learned of the hall-marks of the great artist- decorators,ofthemysteryofcyclicaldates,themarks oftheHung-wuandthebeautiesoftheYung-lo,the writingsofTang-ying,andthegloriesoftheprimitive periodoftheSungandtheYuan. Iwaschargedwith allthisinformationwhenIcalleduponHolmesnext evening. Hewasoutofbednow,thoughyouwould nothaveguesseditfromthepublishedreports,and hesatwithhismuch-bandagedheadrestinguponhis handinthedepthofhisfavouritearmchair.</s>“Why,Holmes,”Isaid,“ifonebelievedthepapers, youaredying.” “That,” said he, “is the very impression which I intended to convey. And now, Watson, have you learnedyourlessons?” “AtleastIhavetriedto.” “Good. Youcouldkeepupanintelligentconver- sationonthesubject?” “IbelieveIcould.” “Then hand me that little box from the mantel- piece.” Heopenedthelidandtookoutasmallobjectmost carefullywrappedinsomefineEasternsilk. Thishe unfolded,anddisclosedadelicatelittlesaucerofthe mostbeautifuldeep-bluecolour.</s>“It needs careful handling, Watson. This is the realegg-shellpotteryoftheMingdynasty. Nofiner pieceeverpassedthroughChristie’s. Acompleteset ofthiswouldbeworthaking’sransom—infact,itis doubtfulifthereisacompletesetoutsidetheimperial palaceofPeking. Thesightofthiswoulddriveareal connoisseurwild.” “WhatamItodowithit?” Holmes handed me a card upon which was printed: “Dr.HillBarton,369HalfMoonStreet.” “Thatisyournamefortheevening,Watson. You will call upon Baron Gruner. I know something of hishabits,andathalf-pasteighthewouldprobably be disengaged. A note will tell him in advance that you are about to call, and you will say that you are bringinghimaspecimenofanabsolutelyuniqueset of Ming china. You may as well be a medical man,since that is a part which you can play without du- plicity. Youareacollector,thissethascomeyourway, youhaveheardoftheBaron’sinterestinthesubject, andyouarenotaversetosellingataprice.” “Whatprice?” “Well asked, Watson. You would certainly fall down badly if you did not know the value of your ownwares. ThissaucerwasgotformebySirJames, and comes, I understand, from the collection of his client. Youwillnotexaggerateifyousaythatitcould hardlybematchedintheworld.” “I could perhaps suggest that the set should be valuedbyanexpert.” “Excellent, Watson! You scintillate to-day. Sug- gestChristieorSotheby. Yourdelicacypreventsyour puttingapriceforyourself.” “Butifhewon’tseeme?” “Oh, yes, he will see you. He has the collection maniainitsmostacuteform—andespeciallyonthis subject, on which he is an acknowledged authority.</s>Sit down, Watson, and I will dictate the letter. No answer needed. You will merely say that you are coming,andwhy.” It was an admirable document, short, courteous, andstimulatingtothecuriosityoftheconnoisseur. A district messenger was duly dispatched with it. On the same evening, with the precious saucer in my handandthecardofDr.HillBartoninmypocket,I setoffonmyownadventure.</s>The beautiful house and grounds indicated that Baron Gruner was, as Sir James had said, a man of considerable wealth. A long winding drive, with banksofrareshrubsoneitherside,openedoutinto a great gravelled square adorned with statues. The placehadbeenbuiltbyaSouthAfricangoldkingin thedaysofthegreatboom,andthelong,lowhouse withtheturretsatthecorners,thoughanarchitectural nightmare, was imposing in its size and solidity. A butler,whowouldhaveadornedabenchofbishops, showed me in and handed me over to a plush-clad footman,whousheredmeintotheBaron’spresence.</s>Hewasstandingattheopenfrontofagreatcase which stood between the windows and which con- tainedpartofhisChinesecollection. HeturnedasI enteredwithasmallbrownvaseinhishand.</s>“Pray sit down, Doctor,” said he. “I was look- ing over my own treasures and wondering whether I could really afford to add to them. This little Tang specimen, which dates from the seventh cen- tury, would probably interest you. I am sure you neversawfinerworkmanshiporaricherglaze. Have youtheMingsaucerwithyouofwhichyouspoke?” Icarefullyunpackeditandhandedittohim. He seatedhimselfathisdesk,pulledoverthelamp,forit wasgrowingdark,andsethimselftoexamineit. As hedidsotheyellowlightbeatuponhisownfeatures, andIwasabletostudythematmyease.</s>He was certainly a remarkably handsome man.</s>His European reputation for beauty was fully de- served. Infigurehewasnotmorethanofmiddlesize, butwasbuiltupongracefulandactivelines. Hisface was swarthy, almost Oriental, with large, dark, lan- guorouseyeswhichmighteasilyholdanirresistible fascinationforwomen. Hishairandmoustachewere raven black, the latter short, pointed, and carefully waxed. Hisfeatureswereregularandpleasing,save only his straight, thin-lipped mouth. If ever I saw a murderer’s mouth it was there—a cruel, hard gash intheface,compressed,inexorable,andterrible. He was ill-advised to train his moustache away from it, foritwasNature’sdanger-signal,setasawarningto hisvictims. Hisvoicewasengagingandhismanners perfect. In age I should have put him at little over thirty, though his record afterwards showed that he wasforty-two.</s>“Very fine—very fine indeed!” he said at last.</s>“And you say you have a set of six to correspond.</s>What puzzles me is that I should not have heard of such magnificent specimens. I only know of one in Englandtomatchthis,anditiscertainlynotlikelyto be in the market. Would it be indiscreet if I were to askyou,Dr.HillBarton,howyouobtainedthis?” “Does it really matter?” I asked with as careless anairasIcouldmuster. “Youcanseethatthepiece isgenuine,and,astothevalue,Iamcontenttotake anexpert’svaluation.” “Very mysterious,” said he with a quick, suspi- ciousflashofhisdarkeyes. “Indealingwithobjects ofsuchvalue,onenaturallywishestoknowallabout the transaction. That the piece is genuine is certain.</s>I have no doubts at all about that. But suppose—I amboundtotakeeverypossibilityintoaccount—that it should prove afterwards that you had no right to sell?” “Iwouldguaranteeyouagainstanyclaimofthe sort.” “That, ofcourse, wouldopenupthe questionas towhatyourguaranteewasworth.” “Mybankerswouldanswerthat.” “Quiteso. Andyetthewholetransactionstrikes measratherunusual.”“Youcandobusinessornot,”saidIwithindiffer- ence. “IhavegivenyouthefirstofferasIunderstood thatyouwereaconnoisseur,butIshallhavenodiffi- cultyinotherquarters.” “WhotoldyouIwasaconnoisseur?” “I was aware that you had written a book upon thesubject.” “Haveyoureadthebook?” “No.” “Dear me, thisbecomes more andmore difficult for me to understand! You are a connoisseur and collectorwithaveryvaluablepieceinyourcollection, and yet you have never troubled to consult the one bookwhichwouldhavetoldyouoftherealmeaning and value of what you held. How do you explain that?” “Iamaverybusyman. Iamadoctorinpractice.” “That is no answer. If a man has a hobby he fol- lowsitup,whateverhisotherpursuitsmaybe. You saidinyournotethatyouwereaconnoisseur.” “SoIam.” “Might I ask you a few questions to test you? I am obliged to tell you, Doctor—if you are indeed a doctor—that the incident becomes more and more suspicious. Iwouldaskyouwhatdoyouknowofthe EmperorShomuandhowdoyouassociatehimwith the Shoso-in near Nara? Dear me, does that puzzle you? TellmealittleabouttheNorthernWeidynasty anditsplaceinthehistoryofceramics.” Isprangfrommychairinsimulatedanger.</s>“This is intolerable, sir,” said I. “I came here to doyouafavour,andnottobeexaminedasifIwere a schoolboy. My knowledge on these subjects may besecondonlytoyourown,butIcertainlyshallnot answerquestionswhichhavebeenputinsooffensive away.” Helookedatmesteadily. Thelanguorhadgone from his eyes. They suddenly glared. There was a gleamofteethfrombetweenthosecruellips.</s>“Whatisthegame? Youarehereasaspy. Youare an emissary of Holmes. This is a trick that you are playing upon me. The fellow is dying I hear, so he sendshistoolstokeepwatchuponme. You’vemade your way in here without leave, and, by God! you mayfindithardertogetoutthantogetin.” He had sprung to his feet, and I stepped back, bracingmyselfforanattack,forthemanwasbeside himselfwithrage. Hemayhavesuspectedmefrom thefirst;certainlythiscross-examinationhadshown himthetruth; butitwasclearthatIcouldnothope todeceivehim. Hedivedhishandintoaside-drawer and rummaged furiously. Then something struck uponhisear,forhestoodlisteningintently.</s>“Ah!”hecried. “Ah!”anddashedintotheroom behindhim.</s>Twostepstookmetotheopendoor,andmymind will ever carry a clear picture of the scene within.</s>The window leading out to the garden was wide open. Besideit,lookinglikesometerribleghost,his headgirtwithbloodybandages,hisfacedrawnand white, stood Sherlock Holmes. The next instant he was through the gap, and I heard the crash of his bodyamongthelaurelbushesoutside. Withahowl of rage the master of the house rushed after him to theopenwindow.</s>And then! It was done in an instant, and yet I clearly saw it. An arm—a woman’s arm—shot out fromamongtheleaves. AtthesameinstanttheBaron utteredahorriblecry—ayellwhichwillalwaysring inmymemory. Heclappedhistwohandstohisface andrushedroundtheroom,beatinghisheadhorribly againstthewalls. Thenhefelluponthecarpet,rolling andwrithing,whilescreamafterscreamresounded throughthehouse.</s>“Water! ForGod’ssake,water!”washiscry.</s>I seized a carafe from a side-table and rushed to his aid. At the same moment the butler and several footmenraninfromthehall. Irememberthatoneof themfaintedasIkneltbytheinjuredmanandturned that awful face to the light of the lamp. The vitriol waseatingintoiteverywhereanddrippingfromthe ears and the chin. One eye was already white and glazed. Theotherwasredandinflamed. Thefeatures whichIhadadmiredafewminutesbeforewerenow likesomebeautifulpaintingoverwhichtheartisthas passed a wet and foul sponge. They were blurred, discoloured,inhuman,terrible.</s>In a few words I explained exactly what had oc- curred, so far as the vitriol attack was concerned.</s>Some had climbed through the window and others had rushed out on to the lawn, but it was dark and ithadbeguntorain. Betweenhisscreamsthevictim raged and raved against the avenger. “It was that hell-cat, KittyWinter!”he cried. “Oh, the she-devil! Sheshallpayforit! Sheshallpay! Oh,Godinheaven, thispainismorethanIcanbear!” Ibathedhisfaceinoil,putcottonwaddingonthe rawsurfaces,andadministeredahypodermicofmor- phia. Allsuspicionofmehadpassedfromhismindin thepresenceofthisshock,andheclungtomyhandsas if I might have the power even yet to clear those dead-fish eyes which gazed up at me. I could have weptovertheruinhadInotrememberedveryclearly thevilelifewhichhadleduptosohideousachange.</s>It was loathsome to feel the pawing of his burning hands, and I was relieved when his family surgeon, closelyfollowedbyaspecialist,cametorelievemeof my charge. An inspector of police had also arrived, andtohimIhandedmyrealcard. Itwouldhavebeen useless as well as foolish to do otherwise, for I was nearlyaswellknownbysightattheYardasHolmes himself. Then I left that house of gloom and terror.</s>WithinanhourIwasatBakerStreet.</s>Holmes was seated in his familiar chair, looking verypaleandexhausted. Apartfromhisinjuries,even hisironnerveshadbeenshockedbytheeventsofthe evening, and he listened with horror to my account oftheBaron’stransformation.</s>“The wages of sin, Watson—the wages of sin!” said he. “Sooner or later it will always come. God knows, therewassinenough,”headded, takingup a brown volume from the table. “Here is the book the woman talked of. If this will not break off the marriage,nothingevercould. Butitwill,Watson. It must. Noself-respectingwomancouldstandit.” “Itishislovediary?” “Or his lust diary. Call it what you will. The moment the woman told us of it I realized what a tremendousweaponwasthereifwecouldbutlayour handsonit. Isaidnothingatthetimetoindicatemy thoughts, for this woman might have given it away.</s>But I brooded over it. Then this assault upon me gave me the chance of letting the Baron think that no precautions need be taken against me. That was all to the good. I would have waited a little longer, but his visit to America forced my hand. He would neverhaveleftsocompromisingadocumentbehind him. Therefore we had to act at once. Burglary at nightisimpossible. Hetakesprecautions. Butthere was a chance in the evening if I could only be sure thathisattentionwasengaged. Thatwaswhereyou and your blue saucer came in. But I had to be sure ofthepositionofthebook,andIknewIhadonlya fewminutesinwhichtoact,formytimewaslimited by your knowledge of Chinese pottery. Therefore I gatheredthegirlupatthelastmoment. Howcould Iguesswhatthelittlepacketwasthatshecarriedso carefully under her cloak? I thought she had come altogetheronmybusiness,butitseemsshehadsome ofherown.” “HeguessedIcamefromyou.” “Ifearedhewould. Butyouheldhiminplayjust longenoughformetogetthebook,thoughnotlong enough for an unobserved escape. Ah, Sir James, I amverygladyouhavecome!” Our courtly friend had appeared in answer to a previous summons. He listened with the deepest attentiontoHolmes’saccountofwhathadoccurred.</s>“You have done wonders—wonders!” he cried when he had heard the narrative. “But if these in- juries are as terrible as Dr. Watson describes, then surelyourpurposeofthwartingthemarriageissuffi- cientlygainedwithouttheuseofthishorriblebook.” Holmesshookhishead.</s>“Women of the De Merville type do not act like that. She would love him the more as a disfigured martyr. No,no. Itishismoralside,nothisphysical, which we have to destroy. That book will bring her backtoearth—andIknownothingelsethatcould. It isinhisownwriting. Shecannotgetpastit.” Sir James carried away both it and the precious saucer. As I was myself overdue, I went down with himintothestreet. Abroughamwaswaitingforhim.</s>He sprang in, gave a hurried order to the cockaded coachman,anddroveswiftlyaway. Heflunghisover- coat half out of the window to cover the armorial bearingsuponthepanel,butIhadseentheminthe glare of our fanlight none the less. I gasped with surprise. ThenIturnedbackandascendedthestair toHolmes’sroom.</s>“Ihavefoundoutwhoourclientis,”Icried,burst- ingwithmygreatnews. “Why,Holmes,itis—” “Itisaloyalfriendandachivalrousgentleman,” saidHolmes,holdinguparestraininghand. “Letthat nowandforeverbeenoughforus.” I do not know how the incriminating book was used. SirJamesmayhavemanagedit. Oritismore probablethatsodelicateataskwasentrustedtothe young lady’s father. The effect, at any rate, was all that could be desired. Three days later appeared a paragraph in the Morning Post to say that the mar- riage between Baron Adelbert Gruner and Miss Vi- olet de Merville would not take place. The same paperhadthefirstpolice-courthearingoftheproceed- ings against Miss Kitty Winter on the grave charge ofvitriol-throwing. Suchextenuatingcircumstances came out in the trial that the sentence, as will be re- membered,wasthelowestthatwaspossibleforsuch an offence. Sherlock Holmes was threatened with a prosecutionforburglary,butwhenanobjectisgood and a client is sufficiently illustrious, even the rigid British law becomes human and elastic. My friend hasnotyetstoodinthedock.heideasofmyfriendWatson,thoughlim- ited, are exceedingly pertinacious. For a longtimehehasworriedmetowriteanex- T perienceofmyown. PerhapsIhaverather invitedthispersecution,sinceIhaveoftenhadocca- siontopointouttohimhowsuperficialarehisown accountsandtoaccusehimofpanderingtopopular tasteinsteadofconfininghimselfrigidlytofactsand figures. “Try it yourself, Holmes!” he has retorted, andIamcompelledtoadmitthat,havingtakenmy peninmyhand,Idobegintorealizethatthematter mustbepresentedinsuchawayasmayinterestthe reader. Thefollowingcasecanhardlyfailtodoso,as itisamongthestrangesthappeningsinmycollection, though it chanced that Watson had no note of it in hiscollection. Speakingofmyoldfriendandbiogra- pher,IwouldtakethisopportunitytoremarkthatifI burdenmyselfwithacompanioninmyvariouslittle inquiries it is not done out of sentiment or caprice, butitisthatWatsonhassomeremarkablecharacteris- ticsofhisowntowhichinhismodestyhehasgiven smallattentionamidhisexaggeratedestimatesofmy ownperformances. Aconfederatewhoforeseesyour conclusionsandcourseofactionisalwaysdangerous, butonetowhomeachdevelopmentcomesasaper- petualsurprise,andtowhomthefutureisalwaysa closedbook,isindeedanidealhelpmate.</s>I find from my notebook that it was in January, 1903,justaftertheconclusionoftheBoerWar,thatI had my visit from Mr. James M. Dodd, a big, fresh, sunburned,upstandingBriton. ThegoodWatsonhad at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone.</s>Itismyhabittositwithmybacktothewindow andtoplacemyvisitorsintheoppositechair,where the light falls full upon them. Mr. James M. Dodd seemed somewhat at a loss how to begin the inter- view. I did not attempt to help him, for his silence gave me more time for observation. I have found it wisetoimpressclientswithasenseofpower,andso Igavehimsomeofmyconclusions.</s>“FromSouthAfrica,sir,Iperceive.” “Yes,sir,”heanswered,withsomesurprise.</s>“ImperialYeomanry,Ifancy.” “Exactly.” “MiddlesexCorps,nodoubt.” “Thatisso. Mr.Holmes,youareawizard.” Ismiledathisbewilderedexpression.</s>“When a gentleman of virile appearance enters my room with such tan upon his face as an English sun could never give, and with his handkerchief in his sleeve instead of in his pocket, it is not difficult to place him. You wear a short beard, which shows that you were not a regular. You have the cut of a riding-man. AstoMiddlesex,yourcardhasalready shownmethatyouareastockbrokerfromThrogmor- tonStreet. Whatotherregimentwouldyoujoin?” “Youseeeverything.” “Iseenomorethanyou,butIhavetrainedmyself tonoticewhatIsee. However,Mr.Dodd,itwasnot todiscussthescienceofobservationthatyoucalled uponmethismorning. Whathasbeenhappeningat TuxburyOldPark?” “Mr.Holmes—!” “Mydearsir,thereisnomystery. Yourlettercame withthatheading,andasyoufixedthisappointment in very pressing terms it was clear that something suddenandimportanthadoccurred.” “Yes, indeed. But the letter was written in the afternoon,andagooddealhashappenedsincethen.</s>IfColonelEmsworthhadnotkickedmeout—” “Kickedyouout!” “Well,thatwaswhatitamountedto. Heisahard nail, is Colonel Emsworth. The greatest martinet in the Army in his day, and it was a day of rough lan- guage,too. Icouldn’thavestuckthecolonelifithad notbeenforGodfrey’ssake.” Ilitmypipeandleanedbackinmychair.</s>“Perhaps you will explain what you are talking about.” Myclientgrinnedmischievously.</s>“I had got into the way of supposing that you kneweverythingwithoutbeingtold,”saidhe. “But Iwillgiveyouthefacts,andIhopetoGodthatyou will be able to tell me what they mean. I’ve been awake all night puzzling my brain, and the more I thinkthemoreincredibledoesitbecome.</s>“When I joined up in January, 1901—just two yearsago—youngGodfreyEmsworthhadjoinedthe same squadron. He was Colonel Emsworth’s only son—Emsworth,theCrimeanV.C.—andhehadthe fighting blood in him, so it is no wonder he volun- teered. Therewasnotafinerladintheregiment. We formedafriendship—thesortoffriendshipwhichcan onlybemadewhenonelivesthesamelifeandshares the same joys and sorrows. He was my mate—and that means a good deal in the Army. We took the rough and the smooth together for a year of hard fighting. Then he was hit with a bullet from an ele- phant gun in the action near Diamond Hill outsidePretoria. I got one letter from the hospital at Cape Town and one from Southampton. Since then not a word—notoneword,Mr.Holmes,forsixmonthsand more,andhemyclosestpal.</s>“Well,whenthewarwasover,andweallgotback, I wrote to his father and asked where Godfrey was.</s>Noanswer. IwaitedabitandthenIwroteagain. This timeIhadareply,shortandgruff. Godfreyhadgone on a voyage round the world, and it was not likely thathewouldbebackforayear. Thatwasall.</s>“Iwasn’tsatisfied,Mr.Holmes. Thewholething seemedtomesodamnedunnatural. Hewasagood lad,andhewouldnotdropapallikethat. Itwasnot like him. Then, again, I happened to know that he was heir to a lot of money, and also that his father andhedidnotalwayshititofftoowell. Theoldman was sometimes a bully, and young Godfrey had too much spirit to stand it. No, I wasn’t satisfied, and I determinedthatIwouldgettotherootofthematter.</s>Ithappened,however,thatmyownaffairsneededa lotofstraighteningout,aftertwoyears’absence,and soitisonlythisweekthatIhavebeenabletotakeup Godfrey’s case again. But since I have taken it up I meantodropeverythinginordertoseeitthrough.” Mr. James M. Dodd appeared to be the sort of person whom it would be better to have as a friend than as an enemy. His blue eyes were stern and his squarejawhadsethardashespoke.</s>“Well,whathaveyoudone?”Iasked.</s>“My first move was to get down to his home, Tuxbury Old Park, near Bedford, and to see for my- selfhowthegroundlay. Iwrotetothemother,there- fore—Ihadhadquiteenoughofthecurmudgeonof afather—andImadeacleanfrontalattack: Godfrey wasmychum,IhadagreatdealofinterestwhichI mighttellherofourcommonexperiences,Ishouldbe intheneighbourhood,wouldtherebeanyobjection, etcetera? InreplyIhadquiteanamiableanswerfrom herandanoffertoputmeupforthenight. Thatwas whattookmedownonMonday.</s>“TuxburyOldHallisinaccessible—fivemilesfrom anywhere. Therewasnotrapatthestation,soIhad towalk,carryingmysuitcase,anditwasnearlydark beforeIarrived. Itisagreatwanderinghouse,stand- inginaconsiderablepark. Ishouldjudgeitwasofall sorts of ages and styles, starting on a half-timbered Elizabethan foundation and ending in a Victorian portico. Insideitwasallpanellingandtapestryand half-effaced old pictures, a house of shadows and mystery. Therewasabutler,oldRalph,whoseemed about the same age as the house, and there was his wife,whomighthavebeenolder. ShehadbeenGod- frey’s nurse, and I had heard him speak of her as secondonlytohismotherinhisaffections,soIwas drawn to her in spite of her queer appearance. The mother I liked also—a gentle little white mouse of a woman. It was only the colonel himself whom I barred.</s>“Wehadabitofbarneyrightaway,andIshould havewalkedbacktothestationifIhadnotfeltthat it might be playing his game for me to do so. I was shownstraightintohisstudy,andthereIfoundhim, a huge, bow-backed man with a smoky skin and a stragglinggraybeard,seatedbehindhislittereddesk.</s>Ared-veinednosejuttedoutlikeavulture’sbeak,and twofiercegrayeyesglaredatmefromundertufted brows. IcouldunderstandnowwhyGodfreyseldom spokeofhisfather.</s>“‘Well,sir,’saidheinaraspingvoice,‘Ishouldbe interestedtoknowtherealreasonsforthisvisit.’ “IansweredthatIhadexplainedtheminmyletter tohiswife.</s>“‘Yes,yes,yousaidthatyouhadknownGodfrey in Africa. We have, of course, only your word for that.’ “‘Ihavehisletterstomeinmypocket.’ “‘Kindlyletmeseethem.’ “HeglancedatthetwowhichIhandedhim,and thenhetossedthemback.</s>“‘Well,whatthen?’ heasked.</s>“‘I was fond of your son Godfrey, sir. Many ties andmemoriesunitedus. IsitnotnaturalthatIshould wonder at his sudden silence and should wish to knowwhathasbecomeofhim?’ “‘Ihavesomerecollections,sir,thatIhadalready corresponded with you and had told you what had become of him. He has gone upon a voyage round the world. His health was in a poor way after his Africanexperiences,andbothhismotherandIwere ofopinionthatcompleterestandchangewereneeded.</s>Kindlypassthatexplanationontoanyotherfriends whomaybeinterestedinthematter.’ “‘Certainly,’Ianswered. ‘Butperhapsyouwould have the goodness to let me have the name of the steamerandofthelinebywhichhesailed,together withthedate. IhavenodoubtthatIshouldbeable togetaletterthroughtohim.’ “Myrequestseemedbothtopuzzleandtoirritate my host. His great eyebrows came down over his eyes, and he tapped his fingers impatiently on the table. Helookedupatlastwiththeexpressionofonewhohasseenhisadversarymakeadangerousmove atchess,andhasdecidedhowtomeetit.</s>“‘Manypeople,Mr.Dodd,’saidhe,‘wouldtake offenceatyourinfernalpertinacityandwouldthink thatthisinsistencehadreachedthepointofdamned impertinence.’ “‘You must put it down, sir, to my real love for yourson.’ “‘Exactly. I have already made every allowance upon that score. I must ask you, however, to drop theseinquiries. Everyfamilyhasitsowninnerknowl- edge and its own motives, which cannot always be made clear to outsiders, however well-intentioned.</s>My wife is anxious to hear something of Godfrey’s past which you are in a position to tell her, but I wouldaskyoutoletthepresentandthefuturealone.</s>Suchinquiriesservenousefulpurpose,sir,andplace usinadelicateanddifficultposition.’ “SoIcametoadeadend,Mr.Holmes. Therewas nogettingpastit. Icouldonlypretendtoacceptthe situation and register a vow inwardly that I would neverrestuntilmyfriend’sfatehadbeenclearedup.</s>Itwasadullevening. Wedinedquietly,thethreeof us,inagloomy,fadedoldroom. Theladyquestioned me eagerly about her son, but the old man seemed moroseanddepressed. Iwassoboredbythewhole proceedingthatImadeanexcuseassoonasIdecently couldandretiredtomybedroom. Itwasalarge,bare room on the ground floor, as gloomy as the rest of thehouse,butafterayearofsleepingupontheveldt, Mr. Holmes, one is not too particular about one’s quarters. I opened the curtains and looked out into thegarden,remarkingthatitwasafinenightwitha brighthalf-moon. ThenIsatdownbytheroaringfire withthelamponatablebesideme,andendeavoured todistractmymindwithanovel. Iwasinterrupted, however,byRalph,theoldbutler,whocameinwith afreshsupplyofcoals.</s>“‘Ithoughtyoumightrunshortinthenight-time, sir. Itisbitterweatherandtheseroomsarecold.’ “Hehesitatedbeforeleavingtheroom,andwhen I looked round he was standing facing me with a wistfullookuponhiswrinkledface.</s>“‘Begyourpardon,sir,butIcouldnothelphear- ingwhatyousaidofyoungMasterGodfreyatdinner.</s>Youknow,sir,thatmywifenursedhim,andsoImay sayIamhisfoster-father. It’snaturalweshouldtake aninterest. Andyousayhecarriedhimselfwell,sir?’ “‘There was no braver man in the regiment. He pulledmeoutoncefromundertheriflesoftheBoers, ormaybeIshouldnotbehere.’ “Theoldbutlerrubbedhisskinnyhands.</s>“‘Yes,sir,yes,thatisMasterGodfreyallover. He wasalwayscourageous. There’snotatreeinthepark, sir,thathehasnotclimbed. Nothingwouldstophim.</s>Hewasafineboy—andoh,sir,hewasafineman.’ “Isprangtomyfeet.</s>“‘Lookhere!’ Icried. ‘Yousayhewas. Youspeak as if he were dead. What is all this mystery? What hasbecomeofGodfreyEmsworth?’ “I gripped the old man by the shoulder, but he shrankaway.</s>“‘Idon’tknowwhatyoumean,sir. Askthemas- teraboutMasterGodfrey. Heknows. Itisnotforme tointerfere.’ “Hewasleavingtheroom,butIheldhisarm.</s>“‘Listen,’ I said. ‘You are going to answer one question before you leave if I have to hold you all night. IsGodfreydead?’ “He could not face my eyes. He was like a man hypnotized. The answer was dragged from his lips.</s>Itwasaterribleandunexpectedone.</s>“‘I wish to God he was!’ he cried, and, tearing himselffree,hedashedfromtheroom.</s>“You will think, Mr. Holmes, that I returned to my chair in no very happy state of mind. The old man’swordsseemedtometobearonlyoneinterpre- tation. Clearlymypoorfriendhadbecomeinvolved insomecriminalor,attheleast,disreputabletransac- tionwhichtouchedthefamilyhonour. Thatsternold manhadsenthissonawayandhiddenhimfromthe world lest some scandal should come to light. God- freywasarecklessfellow. Hewaseasilyinfluenced bythosearoundhim. Nodoubthehadfallenintobad hands and been misled to his ruin. It was a piteous business,ifitwasindeedso,butevennowitwasmy duty to hunt him out and see if I could aid him. I was anxiously pondering the matter when I looked up,andtherewasGodfreyEmsworthstandingbefore me.” Myclienthadpausedasoneindeepemotion.</s>“Pray continue,” I said. “Your problem presents someveryunusualfeatures.” “He was outside the window, Mr. Holmes, with hisfacepressedagainsttheglass. Ihavetoldyouthat I looked out at the night. When I did so I left the curtains partly open. His figure was framed in this gap. The window came down to the ground and I could see the whole length of it, but it was his face whichheldmygaze. Hewasdeadlypale—neverhave Iseenamansowhite. Ireckonghostsmaylooklikethat;buthiseyesmetmine,andtheyweretheeyesof alivingman. HesprangbackwhenhesawthatIwas lookingathim,andhevanishedintothedarkness.</s>“There was something shocking about the man, Mr.Holmes. Itwasn’tmerelythatghastlyfaceglim- mering as white as cheese in the darkness. It was more subtle than that—something slinking, some- thingfurtive,somethingguilty—somethingveryun- like the frank, manly lad that I had known. It left a feelingofhorrorinmymind.</s>“But when a man has been soldiering for a year ortwowithbrotherBoerasaplaymate,hekeepshis nerveandactsquickly. Godfreyhadhardlyvanished beforeIwasatthewindow. Therewasanawkward catch,andIwassomelittletimebeforeIcouldthrow itup. ThenInippedthroughandrandownthegar- denpathinthedirectionthatIthoughthemighthave taken.</s>“It was a long path and the light was not very good, but it seemed to me something was moving ahead of me. I ran on and called his name, but it wasnouse. WhenIgottotheendofthepaththere wereseveralothersbranchingindifferentdirections tovariousouthouses. Istoodhesitating,andasIdid so I heard distinctly the sound of a closing door. It was not behind me in the house, but ahead of me, somewhere in the darkness. That was enough, Mr.</s>Holmes,toassuremethatwhatIhadseenwasnota vision. Godfreyhadrunawayfromme,andhehad shutadoorbehindhim. OfthatIwascertain.</s>“TherewasnothingmoreIcoulddo,andIspent anuneasynightturningthematteroverinmymind and trying to find some theory which would cover the facts. Next day I found the colonel rather more conciliatory,andashiswiferemarkedthattherewere someplacesofinterestintheneighbourhood,itgave me an opening to ask whether my presence for one more night would incommode them. A somewhat grudgingacquiescencefromtheoldmangavemea cleardayinwhichtomakemyobservations. Iwasal- readyperfectlyconvincedthatGodfreywasinhiding somewherenear,butwhereandwhyremainedtobe solved.</s>“The house was so large and so rambling that a regimentmightbehidawayinitandnoonethewiser.</s>If the secret lay there it was difficult for me to pen- etrate it. But the door which I had heard close was certainlynotinthehouse. Imustexplorethegarden andseewhatIcouldfind. Therewasnodifficultyin the way, for the old people were busy in their own fashionandleftmetomyowndevices.</s>“There were several small outhouses, but at the end of the garden there was a detached building of somesize—largeenoughforagardener’soragame- keeper’s residence. Could this be the place whence the sound of that shutting door had come? I ap- proached it in a careless fashion as though I were strollingaimlesslyroundthegrounds. AsIdidso,a small,brisk,beardedmaninablackcoatandbowler hat—not at all the gardener type—came out of the door. Tomysurprise,helockeditafterhimandput the key in his pocket. Then he looked at me with somesurpriseonhisface.</s>“‘Areyouavisitorhere?’ heasked.</s>“IexplainedthatIwasandthatIwasafriendof Godfrey’s.</s>“‘Whatapitythatheshouldbeawayonhistrav- els,forhewouldhavesolikedtoseeme,’Icontinued.</s>“‘Quite so. Exactly,’ said he with a rather guilty air. ‘Nodoubtyouwillrenewyourvisitatsomemore propitious time.’ He passed on, but when I turned I observed that he was standing watching me, half- concealedbythelaurelsatthefarendofthegarden.</s>“IhadagoodlookatthelittlehouseasIpassed it, but the windows were heavily curtained, and, so farasonecouldsee,itwasempty. Imightspoilmy own game and even be ordered off the premises if I were too audacious, for I was still conscious that I wasbeingwatched. Therefore,Istrolledbacktothe houseandwaitedfornightbeforeIwentonwithmy inquiry. WhenallwasdarkandquietIslippedoutof mywindowandmademywayassilentlyaspossible tothemysteriouslodge.</s>“I have said that it was heavily curtained, but nowIfoundthatthewindowswereshutteredaswell.</s>Some light, however, was breaking through one of them,soIconcentratedmyattentionuponthis. Iwas inluck,forthecurtainhadnotbeenquiteclosed,and there was a crack in the shutter, so that I could see theinsideoftheroom. Itwasacheeryplaceenough, abrightlampandablazingfire. Oppositetomewas seatedthelittlemanwhomIhadseeninthemorning.</s>Hewassmokingapipeandreadingapaper.” “Whatpaper?”Iasked.</s>Myclientseemedannoyedattheinterruptionof hisnarrative.</s>“Canitmatter?”heasked.</s>“Itismostessential.” “Ireallytooknonotice.” “Possibly you observed whether it was a broad- leafedpaperorofthatsmallertypewhichoneasso- ciateswithweeklies.”“Now that you mention it, it was not large. It might have been the Spectator. However, I had little thoughttospareuponsuchdetails,forasecondman wasseatedwithhisbacktothewindow,andIcould swearthatthissecondmanwasGodfrey. Icouldnot seehisface,butIknewthefamiliarslopeofhisshoul- ders. Hewasleaninguponhiselbowinanattitudeof greatmelancholy,hisbodyturnedtowardsthefire. I washesitatingastowhatIshoulddowhentherewas a sharp tap on my shoulder, and there was Colonel Emsworthbesideme.</s>“‘Thisway,sir!’ saidheinalowvoice. Hewalked in silence to the house, and I followed him into my ownbedroom. Hehadpickedupatime-tableinthe hall.</s>“‘ThereisatraintoLondonat8.30,’saidhe. ‘The trapwillbeatthedoorateight.’ “Hewaswhitewithrage,and,indeed,Ifeltmyself insodifficultapositionthatIcouldonlystammerout afewincoherentapologiesinwhichItriedtoexcuse myselfbyurgingmyanxietyformyfriend.</s>“‘The matter will not bear discussion,’ said he abruptly. ‘Youhavemadeamostdamnableintrusion into the privacy of our family. You were here as a guest and you have become a spy. I have nothing more to say, sir, save that I have no wish ever to see youagain.’ “AtthisIlostmytemper,Mr.Holmes,andIspoke withsomewarmth.</s>“‘I have seen your son, and I am convinced that forsomereasonofyourownyouareconcealinghim from the world. I have no idea what your motives are in cutting him off in this fashion, but I am sure thatheisnolongerafreeagent. Iwarnyou,Colonel Emsworth, that until I am assured as to the safety and well-being of my friend I shall never desist in myeffortstogettothebottomofthemystery,andI shallcertainlynotallowmyselftobeintimidatedby anythingwhichyoumaysayordo.’ “The old fellow looked diabolical, and I really thought he was about to attack me. I have said that hewasagaunt,fierceoldgiant,andthoughIamno weakling I might have been hard put to it to hold myownagainsthim. However,afteralongglareof rageheturneduponhisheelandwalkedoutofthe room. Formypart,Itooktheappointedtraininthe morning,withthefullintentionofcomingstraightto youandaskingforyouradviceandassistanceatthe appointmentforwhichIhadalreadywritten.” Such was the problem which my visitor laid be- fore me. It presented, as the astute reader will have alreadyperceived,fewdifficultiesinitssolution,for a very limited choice of alternatives must get to the root of the matter. Still, elementary as it was, there were points of interest and novelty about it which may excuse my placing it upon record. I now pro- ceeded,usingmyfamiliarmethodoflogicalanalysis, tonarrowdownthepossiblesolutions.</s>“The servants,” I asked; “how many were in the house?” “Tothebestofmybelieftherewereonlytheold butler and his wife. They seemed to live in the sim- plestfashion.” “There was no servant, then, in the detached house?” “None,unlessthelittlemanwiththebeardacted assuch. Heseemed,however,tobequiteasuperior person.” “That seems very suggestive. Had you any indi- cationthatfoodwasconveyedfromtheonehouseto theother?” “Now that you mention it, I did see old Ralph carryingabasketdownthegardenwalkandgoingin thedirectionofthishouse. Theideaoffooddidnot occurtomeatthemoment.” “Didyoumakeanylocalinquiries?” “Yes, I did. I spoke to the station-master and also to the innkeeper in the village. I simply asked if they knew anything of my old comrade, Godfrey Emsworth. Bothofthemassuredmethathehadgone for a voyage round the world. He had come home and then had almost at once started off again. The storywasevidentlyuniversallyaccepted.” “Yousaidnothingofyoursuspicions?” “Nothing.” “Thatwasverywise. Themattershouldcertainly beinquiredinto. IwillgobackwithyoutoTuxbury OldPark.” “To-day?” It happened that at the moment I was clearing up the case which my friend Watson has described as that of the Abbey School, in which the Duke of Greyminster was so deeply involved. I had also a commissionfromtheSultanofTurkeywhichcalled for immediate action, as political consequences of thegravestkindmightarisefromitsneglect. There- foreitwasnotuntilthebeginningofthenextweek, as my diary records, that I was able to start forth onmymissiontoBedfordshireincompanywithMr.</s>JamesM.Dodd. AswedrovetoEustonwepickedup a grave and taciturn gentleman of iron-gray aspect, withwhomIhadmadethenecessaryarrangements.“Thisisanoldfriend,”saidItoDodd. “Itispos- sible that his presence may be entirely unnecessary, and,ontheotherhand,itmaybeessential. Itisnot necessary at the present stage to go further into the matter.” The narratives of Watson have accustomed the reader,nodoubt,tothefactthatIdonotwastewords ordisclosemythoughtswhileacaseisactuallyunder consideration. Doddseemedsurprised,butnothing more was said, and the three of us continued our journeytogether. InthetrainIaskedDoddonemore questionwhichIwishedourcompaniontohear.</s>“You say that you saw your friend’s face quite clearlyatthewindow,soclearlythatyouaresureof hisidentity?” “Ihavenodoubtaboutitwhatever. Hisnosewas pressed against the glass. The lamplight shone full uponhim.” “Itcouldnothavebeensomeoneresemblinghim?” “No,no,itwashe.” “Butyousayhewaschanged?” “Only in colour. His face was—how shall I de- scribe it?—it was of a fish-belly whiteness. It was bleached.” “Wasitequallypaleallover?” “Ithinknot. ItwashisbrowwhichIsawsoclearly asitwaspressedagainstthewindow.” “Didyoucalltohim?” “Iwastoostartledandhorrifiedforthemoment.</s>ThenIpursuedhim,asIhavetoldyou,butwithout result.” Mycasewaspracticallycomplete,andtherewas onlyonesmallincidentneededtorounditoff. When, after a considerable drive, we arrived at the strange oldramblinghousewhichmyclienthaddescribed,it wasRalph, theelderlybutler, whoopened thedoor.</s>Ihadrequisitionedthecarriageforthedayandhad asked my elderly friend to remain within it unless weshouldsummonhim. Ralph,alittlewrinkledold fellow,wasintheconventionalcostumeofblackcoat andpepper-and-salttrousers,withonlyonecurious variant. Heworebrownleathergloves,whichatsight ofusheinstantlyshuffledoff,layingthemdownon the hall-table as we passed in. I have, as my friend Watsonmayhaveremarked,anabnormallyacuteset ofsenses,andafaintbutincisivescentwasapparent.</s>Itseemedtocentreonthehall-table. Iturned,placed my hat there, knocked it off, stooped to pick it up, and contrived to bring my nose within a foot of the gloves. Yes, it was undoubtedly from them that the curioustarryodourwasoozing. Ipassedonintothe studywithmycasecomplete. Alas,thatIshouldhave toshowmyhandsowhenItellmyownstory! Itwas byconcealingsuchlinksinthechainthatWatsonwas enabledtoproducehismeretriciousfinales.</s>Colonel Emsworth was not in his room, but he camequicklyenoughonreceiptofRalph’smessage.</s>We heard his quick, heavy step in the passage. The doorwasflungopenandherushedinwithbristling beardandtwistedfeatures,asterribleanoldmanas everIhaveseen. Heheldourcardsinhishand,and hetorethemupandstampedonthefragments.</s>“HaveInottoldyou,youinfernalbusybody,that youarewarnedoffthepremises? Neverdaretoshow your damned face here again. If you enter again withoutmyleaveIshallbewithinmyrightsifIuse violence. I’llshootyou,sir! ByGod,Iwill! Astoyou, sir,” turning upon me, “I extend the same warning to you. I am familiar with your ignoble profession, butyoumusttakeyourreputedtalentstosomeother field. Thereisnoopeningforthemhere.” “Icannotleavehere,”saidmyclientfirmly,“until I hear from Godfrey’s own lips that he is under no restraint.” Ourinvoluntaryhostrangthebell.</s>“Ralph,”hesaid,“telephonedowntothecounty policeandasktheinspectortosenduptwoconstables.</s>Tellhimthereareburglarsinthehouse.” “One moment,” said I. “You must be aware, Mr.</s>Dodd,thatColonelEmsworthiswithinhisrightsand thatwehavenolegalstatuswithinhishouse. Onthe other hand, he should recognize that your action is promptedentirelybysolicitudeforhisson. Iventure to hope that if I were allowed to have five minutes’ conversationwithColonelEmsworthIcouldcertainly alterhisviewofthematter.” “I am not so easily altered,” said the old soldier.</s>“Ralph,dowhatIhavetoldyou. Whatthedevilare youwaitingfor? Ringupthepolice!” “Nothingofthesort,”Isaid,puttingmybackto thedoor. “Anypoliceinterferencewouldbringabout theverycatastrophewhichyoudread.”Itookoutmy notebookandscribbledoneworduponaloosesheet.</s>“That,”saidIasIhandedittoColonelEmsworth,“is whathasbroughtushere.” He stared at the writing with a face from which everyexpressionsaveamazementhadvanished.</s>“How do you know?” he gasped, sitting down heavilyinhischair.</s>“It is my business to know things. That is my trade.”He sat in deep thought, his gaunt hand tugging at his straggling beard. Then he made a gesture of resignation.</s>“Well,ifyouwishtoseeGodfrey,youshall. Itisno doingofmine,butyouhaveforcedmyhand. Ralph, tellMr.GodfreyandMr.Kentthatinfiveminuteswe shallbewiththem.” Attheendofthattimewepasseddownthegar- denpathandfoundourselvesinfrontofthemystery houseattheend. Asmallbeardedmanstoodatthe doorwithalookofconsiderableastonishmentupon hisface.</s>“Thisisverysudden,ColonelEmsworth,”saidhe.</s>“Thiswilldisarrangeallourplans.” “I can’t help it, Mr. Kent. Our hands have been forced. CanMr.Godfreyseeus?” “Yes,heiswaitinginside.”Heturnedandledus intoalarge,plainlyfurnishedfrontroom. Amanwas standing with his back to the fire, and at the sight of him my client sprang forward with outstretched hand.</s>“Why,Godfrey,oldman,thisisfine!” Buttheotherwavedhimback.</s>“Don’t touch me, Jimmie. Keep your distance.</s>Yes,youmaywellstare! Idon’tquitelookthesmart Lance-CorporalEmsworth,ofBSquadron,doI?” Hisappearancewascertainlyextraordinary. One couldseethathehadindeedbeenahandsomeman withclear-cutfeaturessunburnedbyanAfricansun, butmottledinpatchesoverthisdarkersurfacewere curiouswhitishpatcheswhichhadbleachedhisskin.</s>“That’s why I don’t court visitors,” said he. “I don’tmindyou,Jimmie,butIcouldhavedonewith- outyourfriend. Isupposethereissomegoodreason forit,butyouhavemeatadisadvantage.” “I wanted to be sure that all was well with you, Godfrey. Isawyouthatnightwhenyoulookedinto mywindow,andIcouldnotletthematterresttillI hadclearedthingsup.” “OldRalphtoldmeyouwerethere,andIcouldn’t help taking a peep at you. I hoped you would not haveseenme,andIhadtoruntomyburrowwhenI heardthewindowgoup.” “Butwhatinheaven’snameisthematter?” “Well, it’snotalongstorytotell,”saidhe, light- ingacigarette. “Yourememberthatmorningfightat Buffelsspruit,outsidePretoria,ontheEasternrailway line? YouheardIwashit?” “Yes,Iheardthat,butInevergotparticulars.” “Three of us got separated from the others. It wasverybrokencountry,youmayremember. There wasSimpson—thefellowwecalledBaldySimpson— andAnderson,andI.WewereclearingbrotherBoer, but he lay low and got the three of us. The other twowerekilled. Igotanelephantbulletthroughmy shoulder. I stuck on to my horse, however, and he gallopedseveralmilesbeforeIfaintedandrolledoff thesaddle.</s>“When I came to myself it was nightfall, and I raised myself up, feeling very weak and ill. To my surprise there was a house close beside me, a fairly large house with a broad stoep and many windows.</s>Itwasdeadlycold. Yourememberthekindofnumb cold which used to come at evening, a deadly, sick- eningsortofcold,verydifferentfromacrisphealthy frost. Well, I was chilled to the bone, and my only hope seemed to lie in reaching that house. I stag- gered to my feet and dragged myself along, hardly conscious of what I did. I have a dim memory of slowlyascendingthesteps,enteringawide-opened door,passingintoalargeroomwhichcontainedsev- eralbeds,andthrowingmyselfdownwithagaspof satisfaction upon one of them. It was unmade, but that troubled me not at all. I drew the clothes over myshiveringbodyandinamomentIwasinadeep sleep.</s>“ItwasmorningwhenIwakened,anditseemed tomethatinsteadofcomingoutintoaworldofsan- ityIhademergedintosomeextraordinarynightmare.</s>TheAfricansunfloodedthroughthebig,curtainless windows, and every detail of the great, bare, white- washeddormitorystoodouthardandclear. Infront of me was standing a small, dwarf-like man with a huge,bulboushead,whowasjabberingexcitedlyin Dutch, waving two horrible hands which looked to me like brown sponges. Behind him stood a group of people who seemed to be intensely amused by the situation, but a chill came over me as I looked at them. Not one of them was a normal human be- ing. Everyonewastwistedorswollenordisfigured in some strange way. The laughter of these strange monstrositieswasadreadfulthingtohear.</s>“ItseemedthatnoneofthemcouldspeakEnglish, butthesituationwantedclearingup,forthecreature withthebigheadwasgrowingfuriouslyangry,and, uttering wild-beast cries, he had laid his deformed hands upon me and was dragging me out of bed, regardlessofthefreshflowofbloodfrommywound.</s>Thelittlemonsterwasasstrongasabull,andIdon’t know what he might have done to me had not anelderly man who was clearly in authority been at- tracted to the room by the hubbub. He said a few sternwordsinDutch,andmypersecutorshrankaway.</s>Thenheturneduponme,gazingatmeintheutmost amazement.</s>“‘Howintheworlddidyoucomehere?’ heasked inamazement. ‘Waitabit! Iseethatyouaretiredout andthatwoundedshoulderofyourswantslooking after. I am a doctor, and I’ll soon have you tied up.</s>But, man alive! you are in far greater danger here thaneveryouwereonthebattlefield. Youareinthe LeperHospital,andyouhavesleptinaleper’sbed.’ “Need I tell you more, Jimmie? It seems that in view of the approaching battle all these poor crea- tureshadbeenevacuatedthedaybefore. Then,asthe Britishadvanced,theyhadbeenbroughtbackbythis, their medical superintendent, who assured me that, thoughhebelievedhewasimmunetothedisease,he would none the less never have dared to do what I had done. He put me in a private room, treated me kindly,andwithinaweekorsoIwasremovedtothe generalhospitalatPretoria.</s>“So there you have my tragedy. I hoped against hope, but it was not until I had reached home that the terrible signs which you see upon my face told methatIhadnotescaped. WhatwasItodo? Iwas inthislonelyhouse. Wehadtwoservantswhomwe couldutterlytrust. TherewasahousewhereIcould live. Underpledgeofsecrecy,Mr.Kent,whoisasur- geon,waspreparedtostaywithme. Itseemedsimple enoughonthoselines. Thealternativewasadreadful one—segregationforlifeamongstrangerswithnever ahopeofrelease. Butabsolutesecrecywasnecessary, or even in this quiet countryside there would have been an outcry, and I should have been dragged to myhorribledoom. Evenyou,Jimmie—evenyouhad tobekeptinthedark. WhymyfatherhasrelentedI cannotimagine.” ColonelEmsworthpointedtome.</s>“Thisisthegentlemanwhoforcedmyhand.”He unfoldedthescrapofpaperonwhichIhadwritten theword“Leprosy.”“Itseemedtomethatifheknew somuchasthatitwassaferthatheshouldknowall.” “And so it was,” said I. “Who knows but good maycomeofit? IunderstandthatonlyMr.Kenthas seenthepatient. MayIask,sir,ifyouareanauthority onsuchcomplaints,whichare,Iunderstand,tropical orsemi-tropicalintheirnature?” “I have the ordinary knowledge of the educated medicalman,”heobservedwithsomestiffness.</s>“Ihavenodoubt,sir,thatyouarefullycompetent, butIamsurethatyouwillagreethatinsuchacasea secondopinionisvaluable. Youhaveavoidedthis,I understand,forfearthatpressureshouldbeputupon youtosegregatethepatient.” “Thatisso,”saidColonelEmsworth.</s>“Iforesawthissituation,”Iexplained,“andIhave brought with me a friend whose discretion may ab- solutely be trusted. I was able once to do him a professional service, and he is ready to advise as a friend rather than as a specialist. His name is Sir JamesSaunders.” The prospect of an interview with Lord Roberts wouldnothaveexcitedgreaterwonderandpleasure inarawsubalternthanwasnowreflecteduponthe faceofMr.Kent.</s>“Ishallindeedbeproud,”hemurmured.</s>“ThenIwillaskSirJamestostepthisway. Heisat presentinthecarriageoutsidethedoor. Meanwhile, ColonelEmsworth,wemayperhapsassembleinyour study,whereIcouldgivethenecessaryexplanations.” AndhereitisthatImissmyWatson. Bycunning questionsandejaculationsofwonderhecouldelevate my simple art, which is but systematized common sense, into a prodigy. When I tell my own story I havenosuchaid. AndyetIwillgivemyprocessof thoughtevenasIgaveittomysmallaudience,which included Godfrey’s mother in the study of Colonel Emsworth.</s>“Thatprocess,”saidI,“startsuponthesupposition that when you have eliminated all which is impos- sible, then whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. It may well be that several expla- nationsremain,inwhichcaseonetriestestaftertest untiloneorotherofthemhasaconvincingamount of support. We will now apply this principle to the case in point. As it was first presented to me, there were three possible explanations of the seclusion or incarcerationofthisgentlemaninanouthouseofhis father’smansion. Therewastheexplanationthathe was in hiding for a crime, or that he was mad and thattheywishedtoavoidanasylum,orthathehad some disease which caused his segregation. I could thinkofnootheradequatesolutions. These,then,had tobesiftedandbalancedagainsteachother.</s>“Thecriminalsolutionwouldnotbearinspection.</s>Nounsolvedcrimehadbeenreportedfromthatdis- trict. Iwassureofthat. Ifitweresomecrimenotyet discovered,thenclearlyitwouldbetotheinterestof thefamilytogetridofthedelinquentandsendhim abroad rather than keep him concealed at home. I couldseenoexplanationforsuchalineofconduct.“Insanitywasmoreplausible. Thepresenceofthe second person in the outhouse suggested a keeper.</s>The fact that he locked the door when he came out strengthened the supposition and gave the idea of constraint. On the other hand, this constraint could not be severe or the young man could not have got looseandcomedowntohavealookathisfriend. You willremember,Mr.Dodd,thatIfeltroundforpoints, askingyou,forexample,aboutthepaperwhichMr.</s>Kentwasreading. HaditbeentheLancetortheBritish MedicalJournalitwouldhavehelpedme. Itisnotille- gal,however,tokeepalunaticuponprivatepremises so long as there is a qualified person in attendance andthattheauthoritieshavebeendulynotified. Why, then,allthisdesperatedesireforsecrecy? Onceagain Icouldnotgetthetheorytofitthefacts.</s>“Thereremainedthethirdpossibility,intowhich, rare and unlikely as it was, everything seemed to fit. Leprosy is not uncommon in South Africa. By some extraordinary chance this youth might have contracted it. His people would be placed in a very dreadfulposition,sincetheywoulddesiretosavehim fromsegregation. Greatsecrecywouldbeneededto preventrumoursfromgettingaboutandsubsequent interference by the authorities. A devoted medical man, if sufficiently paid, would easily be found to takechargeofthesufferer. Therewouldbenoreason why the latter should not be allowed freedom after dark. Bleachingoftheskinisacommonresultofthe disease. Thecasewasastrongone—sostrongthatI determinedtoactasifitwereactuallyproved. When onarrivinghereInoticedthatRalph,whocarriesout the meals, had gloves which are impregnated with disinfectants,mylastdoubtswereremoved. Asingle wordshowedyou,sir,thatyoursecretwasdiscovered, and if I wrote rather than said it, it was to prove to youthatmydiscretionwastobetrusted.” Iwasfinishingthislittleanalysisofthecasewhen the door was opened and the austere figure of the great dermatologist was ushered in. But for once hissphinx-likefeatureshadrelaxedandtherewasa warmhumanityinhiseyes. HestrodeuptoColonel Emsworthandshookhimbythehand.</s>“Itisoftenmylottobringill-tidingsandseldom good,”saidhe. “Thisoccasionisthemorewelcome.</s>Itisnotleprosy.” “What?” “A well-marked case of pseudo-leprosy or ichthyosis,ascale-likeaffectionoftheskin,unsightly, obstinate,butpossiblycurable,andcertainlynoninfec- tive. Yes,Mr.Holmes,thecoincidenceisaremarkable one. Butisitcoincidence? Aretherenotsubtleforces at work of which we know little? Are we assured that the apprehension from which this young man has no doubt suffered terribly since his exposure to itscontagionmaynotproduceaphysicaleffectwhich simulatesthatwhichitfears? Atanyrate,Ipledgemy professionalreputation—Buttheladyhasfainted! I think thatMr.Kent had betterbe withher until she recoversfromthisjoyousshock.”twaspleasanttoDr.Watsontofindhim- self once more in the untidy room of the first floor in Baker Street which had been I the starting-point of so many remarkable adventures. He looked round him at the scientific chartsuponthewall,theacid-charredbenchofchem- icals, the violin-case leaning in the corner, the coal- scuttle,whichcontainedofoldthepipesandtobacco.</s>Finally,hiseyescameroundtothefreshandsmiling faceofBilly,theyoungbutverywiseandtactfulpage, whohadhelpedalittletofillupthegapofloneliness andisolationwhichsurroundedthesaturninefigure ofthegreatdetective.</s>“It all seems very unchanged, Billy. You don’t change,either. Ihopethesamecanbesaidofhim?” Billy glanced with some solicitude at the closed doorofthebedroom.</s>“Ithinkhe’sinbedandasleep,”hesaid.</s>Itwassevenintheeveningofalovelysummer’s day, but Dr. Watson was sufficiently familiar with the irregularity of his old friend’s hours to feel no surpriseattheidea.</s>“Thatmeansacase,Isuppose?” “Yes,sir,heisveryhardatitjustnow. I’mfright- enedforhishealth. Hegetspalerandthinner,andhe eatsnothing. ‘Whenwillyoubepleasedtodine,Mr.</s>Holmes?’ Mrs.Hudsonasked. ‘Seven-thirty,theday afterto-morrow,’saidhe. Youknowhiswaywhenhe iskeenonacase.” “Yes,Billy,Iknow.” “He’s following someone. Yesterday he was out as a workman looking for a job. To-day he was an oldwoman. Fairlytookmein,hedid,andIoughtto knowhiswaysbynow.”Billypointedwithagrinto a very baggy parasol which leaned against the sofa.</s>“That’spartoftheoldwoman’soutfit,”hesaid.</s>“Butwhatisitallabout,Billy?” Billy sank his voice, as one who discusses great secrets of State. “I don’t mind telling you, sir, but it should go no farther. It’s this case of the Crown diamond.” “What—thehundred-thousand-poundburglary?” “Yes,sir. Theymustgetitback,sir. Why,wehad thePrimeMinisterandtheHomeSecretarybothsit- tingonthatverysofa. Mr.Holmeswasveryniceto them. Hesoonputthemattheireaseandpromised hewoulddoallhecould. ThenthereisLordCantle- mere—” “Ah!” “Yes,sir,youknowwhatthatmeans. He’sastiff ’un,sir,ifImaysayso. IcangetalongwiththePrime Minister, and I’ve nothing against the Home Secre- tary,whoseemedacivil,obligingsortofman,butI can’tstandhisLordship. NeithercanMr.Holmes,sir.</s>Yousee,hedon’tbelieveinMr.Holmesandhewas againstemployinghim. He’dratherhefailed.” “AndMr.Holmesknowsit?” “Mr. Holmes always knows whatever there is to know.” “Well, we’ll hope he won’t fail and that Lord Cantlemerewillbeconfounded. ButIsay,Billy,what isthatcurtainforacrossthewindow?” “Mr. Holmes had it put up there three days ago.</s>We’vegotsomethingfunnybehindit.” Billyadvancedanddrewawaythedraperywhich screenedthealcoveofthebowwindow.</s>Dr.Watsoncouldnotrestrainacryofamazement.</s>Therewasafacsimileofhisoldfriend,dressing-gown and all, the face turned three-quarters towards the window and downward, as though reading an in- visible book, while the body was sunk deep in an armchair. Billydetachedtheheadandhelditinthe air.</s>“Weputitatdifferentangles,sothatitmayseem more lifelike. I wouldn’t dare touch it if the blind were not down. But when it’s up you can see this fromacrosstheway.” “Weusedsomethingofthesortoncebefore.” “Beforemytime,”saidBilly. Hedrewthewindow curtainsapartandlookedoutintothestreet. “There arefolkwhowatchusfromoveryonder. Icanseea fellownowatthewindow. Havealookforyourself.” Watson had taken a step forward when the bed- roomdooropened,andthelong,thinformofHolmes emerged, his face pale and drawn, but his step and bearingasactiveasever. Withasinglespringhewas atthewindow,andhaddrawntheblindoncemore.</s>“Thatwilldo,Billy,”saidhe. “Youwereindanger ofyourlifethen,myboy,andIcan’tdowithoutyou justyet. Well,Watson,itisgoodtoseeyouinyourold quartersonceagain. Youcomeatacriticalmoment.” “SoIgather.” “You can go, Billy. That boy is a problem, Wat- son. HowfaramIjustifiedinallowinghimtobein danger?” “Dangerofwhat,Holmes?” “Ofsuddendeath. I’mexpectingsomethingthis evening.” “Expectingwhat?”“Tobemurdered,Watson.” “No,no,youarejoking,Holmes!” “Evenmylimitedsenseofhumourcouldevolve a better joke than that. But we may be comfortable inthemeantime,maywenot? Isalcoholpermitted? Thegasogeneandcigarsareintheoldplace. Letme see you once more in the customary armchair. You havenot,Ihope,learnedtodespisemypipeandmy lamentable tobacco? It has to take the place of food thesedays.” “Butwhynoteat?” “Becausethefacultiesbecomerefinedwhenyou starvethem. Why,surely,asadoctor,mydearWatson, youmustadmitthatwhatyourdigestiongainsinthe wayofbloodsupplyissomuchlosttothebrain. Iam a brain, Watson. The rest of me is a mere appendix.</s>Therefore,itisthebrainImustconsider.” “Butthisdanger,Holmes?” “Ah,yes,incaseitshouldcomeoff,itwouldper- hapsbeaswellthatyoushouldburdenyourmemory withthenameandaddressofthemurderer. Youcan give it to Scotland Yard, with my love and a part- ing blessing. Sylvius is the name—Count Negretto Sylvius. Write it down, man, write it down! 136 MoorsideGardens,N.W.Gotit?” Watson’shonestfacewastwitchingwithanxiety.</s>He knew only too well the immense risks taken by Holmes and was well aware that what he said was morelikelytobeunder-statementthanexaggeration.</s>Watsonwasalwaysthemanofaction,andheroseto theoccasion.</s>“Countmein,Holmes. Ihavenothingtodofora dayortwo.” “Your morals don’t improve, Watson. You have added fibbing to your other vices. You bear every signofthebusymedicalman,withcallsonhimevery hour.” “Notsuchimportantones. Butcan’tyouhavethis fellowarrested?” “Yes, Watson, I could. That’s what worries him so.” “Butwhydon’tyou?” “BecauseIdon’tknowwherethediamondis.” “Ah! Billytoldme—themissingCrownjewel!” “Yes,thegreatyellowMazarinstone. I’vecastmy netandIhavemyfish. ButIhavenotgotthestone.</s>What is the use of taking them? We can make the worldabetterplacebylayingthembytheheels. But thatisnotwhatIamoutfor. It’sthestoneIwant.” “AndisthisCountSylviusoneofyourfish?” “Yes,andhe’sashark. Hebites. TheotherisSam Merton, the boxer. Not a bad fellow, Sam, but the Counthasusedhim. Sam’snotashark. Heisagreat big silly bull-headed gudgeon. But he is flopping aboutinmynetallthesame.” “WhereisthisCountSylvius?” “I’ve been at his very elbow all the morning.</s>You’ve seen me as an old lady, Watson. I was never moreconvincing. Heactuallypickedupmyparasol formeonce. ‘Byyourleave,madame,’saidhe—half- Italian, you know, and with the Southern graces of manner when in the mood, but a devil incarnate in theothermood. Lifeisfullofwhimsicalhappenings, Watson.” “Itmighthavebeentragedy.” “Well, perhaps it might. I followed him to old Straubenzee’s workshop in the Minories. Strauben- zee made the air-gun—a very pretty bit of work, as Iunderstand,andIratherfancyitisintheopposite window at the present moment. Have you seen the dummy? Of course, Billy showed it to you. Well, it may get a bullet through its beautiful head at any moment. Ah,Billy,whatisit?” Theboyhadreappearedintheroomwithacard upon a tray. Holmes glanced at it with raised eye- browsandanamusedsmile.</s>“The man himself. I had hardly expected this.</s>Grasp the nettle, Watson! A man of nerve. Possibly youhaveheardofhisreputationasashooterofbig game. Itwouldindeedbeatriumphantendingtohis excellent sporting record if he added me to his bag.</s>Thisisaproofthathefeelsmytoeveryclosebehind hisheel.” “Sendforthepolice.” “I probably shall. But not just yet. Would you glancecarefullyoutofthewindow,Watson,andsee ifanyoneishangingaboutinthestreet?” Watsonlookedwarilyroundtheedgeofthecur- tain.</s>“Yes,thereisoneroughfellownearthedoor.” “ThatwillbeSamMerton—thefaithfulbutrather fatuousSam. Whereisthisgentleman,Billy?” “Inthewaiting-room,sir.” “ShowhimupwhenIring.” “Yes,sir.” “If I am not in the room, show him in all the same.” “Yes,sir.”Watsonwaiteduntilthedoorwasclosed,andthen heturnedearnestlytohiscompanion.</s>“Look here, Holmes, this is simply impossible.</s>This is a desperate man, who sticks at nothing. He mayhavecometomurderyou.” “Ishouldnotbesurprised.” “Iinsistuponstayingwithyou.” “Youwouldbehorriblyintheway.” “Inhisway?” “No,mydearfellow—inmyway.” “Well,Ican’tpossiblyleaveyou.” “Yes,youcan,Watson. Andyouwill,foryouhave never failed to play the game. I am sure you will play it to the end. This man has come for his own purpose,buthemaystayformine.”Holmestookout hisnotebookandscribbledafewlines. “Takeacabto ScotlandYardandgivethistoYoughaloftheC.I.D.</s>Come back with the police. The fellow’s arrest will follow.” “I’lldothatwithjoy.” “Before you return I may have just time enough tofindoutwherethestoneis.”Hetouchedthebell.</s>“I think we will go out through the bedroom. This secondexitisexceedinglyuseful. Iratherwanttosee myshark withouthisseeing me, andIhave, asyou willremember,myownwayofdoingit.” Itwas,therefore,anemptyroomintowhichBilly, a minute later, ushered Count Sylvius. The famous game-shot, sportsman, and man-about-town was a big, swarthy fellow, with a formidable dark mous- tache shading a cruel, thin-lipped mouth, and sur- mounted by a long, curved nose like the beak of an eagle. He was well dressed, but his brilliant neck- tie,shiningpin,andglitteringringswereflamboyant in their effect. As the door closed behind him he lookedroundhimwithfierce,startledeyes,likeone who suspects a trap at every turn. Then he gave a violent start as he saw the impassive head and the collarofthedressing-gownwhichprojectedabovethe armchairinthewindow. Atfirsthisexpressionwas oneofpureamazement. Thenthelightofahorrible hopegleamedinhisdark,murderouseyes. Hetook onemoreglanceroundtoseethattherewerenowit- nesses,andthen,ontiptoe,histhickstickhalfraised, he approached the silent figure. He was crouching for his final spring and blow when a cool, sardonic voicegreetedhimfromtheopenbedroomdoor: “Don’tbreakit,Count! Don’tbreakit!” The assassin staggered back, amazement in his convulsed face. For an instant he half raised his loaded cane once more, as if he would turn his vio- lence from the effigy to the original; but there was somethinginthatsteadygrayeyeandmockingsmile whichcausedhishandtosinktohisside.</s>“It’saprettylittlething,”saidHolmes,advancing towardstheimage. “Tavernier,theFrenchmodeller, made it. He is as good at waxworks as your friend Straubenzeeisatair-guns.” “Air-guns,sir! Whatdoyoumean?” “Putyourhatandstickontheside-table. Thank you! Pray take a seat. Would you care to put your revolver out also? Oh, very good, if you prefer to situponit. Yourvisitisreallymostopportune,forI wantedbadlytohaveafewminutes’chatwithyou.” TheCountscowled,withheavy,threateningeye- brows.</s>“I, too, wished to have some words with you, Holmes. That is why I am here. I won’t deny that I intendedtoassaultyoujustnow.” Holmesswunghislegontheedgeofthetable.</s>“Irathergatheredthatyouhadsomeideaofthe sortinyourhead,”saidhe. “Butwhythesepersonal attentions?” “Becauseyouhavegoneoutofyourwaytoannoy me. Because you have put your creatures upon my track.” “Mycreatures! Iassureyouno!” “Nonsense! I have had them followed. Two can playatthatgame,Holmes.” “It is a small point, Count Sylvius, but perhaps you would kindly give me my prefix when you ad- dressme. Youcanunderstandthat,withmyroutine ofwork,Ishouldfindmyselfonfamiliartermswith halftherogues’gallery,andyouwillagreethatexcep- tionsareinvidious.” “Well,Mr.Holmes,then.” “Excellent! But I assure you you are mistaken aboutmyallegedagents.” CountSylviuslaughedcontemptuously.</s>“Otherpeoplecanobserveaswellasyou. Yester- daytherewasanoldsportingman. To-dayitwasan elderlywoman. Theyheldmeinviewallday.” “Really,sir,youcomplimentme. OldBaronDow- son said the night before he was hanged that in my casewhatthelawhadgainedthestagehadlost. And now you give my little impersonations your kindly praise?” “Itwasyou—youyourself?”Holmesshruggedhisshoulders. “Youcanseein thecornertheparasolwhichyousopolitelyhanded tomeintheMinoriesbeforeyoubegantosuspect.” “IfIhadknown,youmightnever—” “Have seen this humble home again. I was well aware of it. We all have neglected opportunities to deplore. Asithappens,youdidnotknow,soherewe are!” TheCount’sknottedbrowsgatheredmoreheavily over his menacing eyes. “What you say only makes the matter worse. It was not your agents but your play-acting,busybodyself! Youadmitthatyouhave doggedme. Why?” “Come now, Count. You used to shoot lions in Algeria.” “Well?” “Butwhy?” “Why? Thesport—theexcitement—thedanger!” “And,nodoubt,tofreethecountryfromapest?” “Exactly!” “Myreasonsinanutshell!” TheCountsprangtohisfeet,andhishandinvol- untarilymovedbacktohiship-pocket.</s>“Sitdown,sir,sitdown! Therewasanother,more practical,reason. Iwantthatyellowdiamond!” Count Sylvius lay back in his chair with an evil smile.</s>“Uponmyword!”saidhe.</s>“YouknewthatIwasafteryouforthat. Thereal reasonwhyyouarehereto-nightistofindouthow much I know about the matter and how far my re- movalisabsolutelyessential. Well,Ishouldsaythat, fromyourpointofview,itisabsolutelyessential,for I know all about it, save only one thing, which you areabouttotellme.” “Oh,indeed! Andpray,whatisthismissingfact?” “WheretheCrowndiamondnowis.” TheCountlookedsharplyathiscompanion. “Oh, youwanttoknowthat,doyou? Howthedevilshould Ibeabletotellyouwhereitis?” “Youcan,andyouwill.” “Indeed!” “You can’t bluff me, Count Sylvius.” Holmes’s eyes,ashegazedathim,contractedandlightenedun- tiltheywereliketwomenacingpointsofsteel. “You areabsoluteplate-glass. Iseetotheverybackofyour mind.” “Then,ofcourse,youseewherethediamondis!” Holmesclappedhishandswithamusement,and then pointed a derisive finger. “Then you do know.</s>Youhaveadmittedit!” “Iadmitnothing.” “Now,Count,ifyouwillbereasonablewecando business. Ifnot,youwillgethurt.” Count Sylvius threw up his eyes to the ceiling.</s>“Andyoutalkaboutbluff!”saidhe.</s>Holmeslookedathimthoughtfullylikeamaster chess-playerwhomeditateshiscrowningmove. Then hethrewopenthetabledraweranddrewoutasquat notebook.</s>“DoyouknowwhatIkeepinthisbook?” “No,sir,Idonot!” “You!” “Me!” “Yes, sir, you! You are all here—every action of yourvileanddangerouslife.” “Damnyou,Holmes!”criedtheCountwithblaz- ingeyes. “Therearelimitstomypatience!” “It’sallhere,Count. Therealfactsastothedeath of old Mrs. Harold, who left you the Blymer estate, whichyousorapidlygambledaway.” “Youaredreaming!” “And the complete life history of Miss Minnie Warrender.” “Tut! Youwillmakenothingofthat!” “Plenty more here, Count. Here is the robbery in the train de-luxe to the Riviera on February 13, 1892. Hereistheforgedcheckinthesameyearonthe CreditLyonnais.” “No;you’rewrongthere.” “ThenIamrightontheothers! Now,Count,you are a card-player. When the other fellow has all the trumps,itsavestimetothrowdownyourhand.” “What has all this talk to do with the jewel of whichyouspoke?” “Gently,Count. Restrainthateagermind! Letme gettothepointsinmyownhumdrumfashion. Ihave allthisagainstyou;but,aboveall,Ihaveaclearcase againstbothyouandyourfightingbullyinthecase oftheCrowndiamond.” “Indeed!” “I have the cabman who took you to Whitehall and the cabman who brought you away. I have the commissionaire who saw you near the case. I have IkeySanders,whorefusedtocutitupforyou. Ikey haspeached,andthegameisup.”TheveinsstoodoutontheCount’sforehead. His dark, hairy hands were clenched in a convulsion of restrainedemotion. Hetriedtospeak,butthewords wouldnotshapethemselves.</s>“That’sthehandIplayfrom,”saidHolmes. “Iput italluponthetable. Butonecardismissing. It’sthe kingofdiamonds. Idon’tknowwherethestoneis.” “Younevershallknow.” “No? Now, be reasonable, Count. Consider the situation. You are going to be locked up for twenty years. SoisSamMerton. Whatgoodareyougoingto getoutofyourdiamond? Noneintheworld. Butif you hand it over—well, I’ll compound a felony. We don’twantyouorSam. Wewantthestone. Givethat up,andsofarasIamconcernedyoucangofreeso longasyoubehaveyourselfinthefuture. Ifyoumake another slip—well, it will be the last. But this time mycommissionistogetthestone,notyou.” “ButifIrefuse?” “Why, then—alas!—it must be you and not the stone.” Billyhadappearedinanswertoaring.</s>“I think, Count, that it would be as well to have yourfriendSamatthisconference. Afterall,hisinter- estsshouldberepresented. Billy,youwillseealarge anduglygentlemanoutsidethefrontdoor. Askhim tocomeup.” “Ifhewon’tcome,sir?” “No violence, Billy. Don’t be rough with him. If you tell him that Count Sylvius wants him he will certainlycome.” “Whatareyougoingtodonow?”askedtheCount asBillydisappeared.</s>“MyfriendWatsonwaswithmejustnow. Itold himthatIhadasharkandagudgeoninmynet;now Iamdrawingthenetanduptheycometogether.” TheCounthadrisenfromhischair,andhishand was behind his back. Holmes held something half protrudingfromthepocketofhisdressing-gown.</s>“Youwon’tdieinyourbed,Holmes.” “I have often had the same idea. Does it matter very much? After all, Count, your own exit is more likelytobeperpendicularthanhorizontal. Butthese anticipationsofthefuturearemorbid. Whynotgive ourselves up to the unrestrained enjoyment of the present?” Asuddenwild-beastlightsprangupinthedark, menacingeyesofthemastercriminal. Holmes’sfigure seemedtogrowtallerashegrewtenseandready.</s>“It is no use your fingering your revolver, my friend,”hesaidinaquietvoice. “Youknowperfectly wellthatyoudarenotuseit,evenifIgaveyoutimeto drawit. Nasty,noisythings,revolvers,Count. Better stick to air-guns. Ah! I think I hear the fairy foot- stepofyourestimablepartner. Goodday,Mr.Merton.</s>Ratherdullinthestreet,isitnot?” Theprize-fighter,aheavilybuiltyoungmanwith astupid,obstinate,slab-sidedface,stoodawkwardly atthedoor,lookingabouthimwithapuzzledexpres- sion. Holmes’s debonair manner was a new experi- ence, and though he vaguely felt that it was hostile, hedidnotknowhowtocounterit. Heturnedtohis moreastutecomradeforhelp.</s>“What’sthegamenow,Count? What’sthisfellow want? What’sup?”Hisvoicewasdeepandraucous.</s>The Count shrugged his shoulders, and it was Holmeswhoanswered.</s>“IfImayputitinanutshell,Mr.Merton,Ishould sayitwasallup.” Theboxerstilladdressedhisremarkstohisasso- ciate.</s>“Isthiscovetryingtobefunny,orwhat? I’mnot inthefunnymoodmyself.” “No, I expect not,” said Holmes. “I think I can promiseyouthatyouwillfeelevenlesshumorousas theeveningadvances. Now,lookhere,CountSylvius.</s>I’mabusymanandIcan’twastetime. I’mgoinginto that bedroom. Pray make yourselves quite at home in my absence. You can explain to your friend how thematterlieswithouttherestraintofmypresence. I shalltryovertheHoffman‘Barcarole’uponmyviolin.</s>In five minutes I shall return for your final answer.</s>Youquitegraspthealternative,doyounot? Shallwe takeyou,orshallwehavethestone?” Holmeswithdrew,pickinguphisviolinfromthe corner as he passed. A few moments later the long- drawn,wailingnotesofthatmosthauntingoftunes camefaintlythroughthecloseddoorofthebedroom.</s>“Whatisit,then?”askedMertonanxiouslyashis companionturnedtohim. “Doesheknowaboutthe stone?” “Heknowsadamnedsighttoomuchaboutit. I’m notsurethathedoesn’tknowallaboutit.” “Good Lord!” The boxer’s sallow face turned a shadewhiter.</s>“IkeySandershassplitonus.” “Hehas,hashe? I’lldohimdownathick’unfor thatifIswingforit.” “Thatwon’thelpusmuch. We’vegottomakeup ourmindswhattodo.”“Halfamo’,”saidtheboxer,lookingsuspiciously at the bedroom door. “He’s a leary cove that wants watching. Isupposehe’snotlistening?” “Howcanhebelisteningwiththatmusicgoing?” “That’sright. Maybesomebody’sbehindacurtain.</s>Toomanycurtainsinthisroom.”Ashelookedround he suddenly saw for the first time the effigy in the window,andstoodstaringandpointing,tooamazed forwords.</s>“Tut! it’sonlyadummy,”saidtheCount.</s>“Afake,isit? Well,strikeme! MadameTussaud ain’t in it. It’s the living spit of him, gown and all.</s>Butthemcurtains,Count!” “Oh, confound the curtains! We are wasting our time,andthereisnonetoomuch. Hecanlagusover thisstone.” “Thedeucehecan!” “Buthe’llletusslipifweonlytellhimwherethe swagis.” “What! Giveitup? Giveupahundredthousand quid?” “It’soneortheother.” Mertonscratchedhisshort-croppedpate.</s>“He’saloneinthere. Let’sdohimin. Ifhislight wereoutweshouldhavenothingtofear.” TheCountshookhishead.</s>“Heisarmedandready. Ifweshothimwecould hardlygetawayinaplacelikethis. Besides,it’slikely enough that the police know whatever evidence he hasgot. Hallo! Whatwasthat?” Therewasavaguesoundwhichseemedtocome from the window. Both men sprang round, but all was quiet. Save for the one strange figure seated in thechair,theroomwascertainlyempty.</s>“Something in the street,” said Merton. “Now lookhere,guv’nor,you’vegotthebrains. Surelyyou can think a way out of it. If slugging is no use then it’suptoyou.” “I’ve fooled better men than he,” the Count an- swered. “Thestoneishereinmysecretpocket. Itake nochancesleavingitabout. ItcanbeoutofEngland to-nightandcutintofourpiecesinAmsterdambefore Sunday. HeknowsnothingofVanSeddar.” “IthoughtVanSeddarwasgoingnextweek.” “Hewas. Butnowhemustgetoffbythenextboat.</s>Oneorotherofusmustsliproundwiththestoneto LimeStreetandtellhim.” “Butthefalsebottomain’tready.” “Well,hemusttakeitasitisandchanceit. There’s notamomenttolose.”Again,withthesenseofdan- gerwhichbecomesaninstinctwiththesportsman,he paused and looked hard at the window. Yes, it was surelyfromthestreetthatthefaintsoundhadcome.</s>“AstoHolmes,”hecontinued,“wecanfoolhim easilyenough. Yousee,thedamnedfoolwon’tarrest usifhecangetthestone. Well,we’llpromisehimthe stone. We’llputhimonthewrongtrackaboutit,and beforehefindsthatitisthewrongtrackitwillbein Hollandandweoutofthecountry.” “Thatsoundsgoodtome!”criedSamMertonwith agrin.</s>“YougoonandtelltheDutchmantogetamove on him. I’ll see this sucker and fill him up with a bogus confession. I’ll tell him that the stone is in Liverpool. Confoundthatwhiningmusic;itgetson mynerves! Bythetimehefindsitisn’tinLiverpool itwillbeinquartersandweonthebluewater. Come backhere,outofalinewiththatkeyhole. Hereisthe stone.” “Iwonderyoudarecarryit.” “Where could I have it safer? If we could take it outofWhitehallsomeoneelsecouldsurelytakeitout ofmylodgings.” “Let’shavealookatit.” CountSylviuscastasomewhatunflatteringglance athisassociateanddisregardedtheunwashedhand whichwasextendedtowardshim.</s>“What—d’yethinkI’mgoingtosnatchitoffyou? Seehere,mister,I’mgettingabittiredofyourways.” “Well, well, no offence, Sam. We can’t afford to quarrel. Comeovertothewindowifyouwanttosee thebeautyproperly. Nowholdittothelight! Here!” “Thankyou!” WithasinglespringHolmeshadleapedfromthe dummy’s chair and had grasped the precious jewel.</s>Hehelditnowinonehand,whilehisotherpointed arevolverattheCount’shead. Thetwovillainsstag- gered back in utter amazement. Before they had recoveredHolmeshadpressedtheelectricbell.</s>“No violence, gentlemen—no violence, I beg of you! Consider the furniture! It must be very clear to you that your position is an impossible one. The policearewaitingbelow.” TheCount’sbewildermentovermasteredhisrage andfear.</s>“Buthowthedeuce—?”hegasped.</s>“Yoursurpriseisverynatural. Youarenotaware that a second door from my bedroom leads behindthatcurtain. Ifanciedthatyoumusthaveheardme whenIdisplacedthefigure,butluckwasonmyside.</s>Itgavemeachanceoflisteningtoyourracyconver- sationwhichwouldhavebeenpainfullyconstrained hadyoubeenawareofmypresence.” TheCountgaveagestureofresignation.</s>“Wegiveyoubest,Holmes. Ibelieveyouarethe devilhimself.” “Notfarfromhim,atanyrate,”Holmesanswered withapolitesmile.</s>Sam Merton’s slow intellect had only gradually appreciatedthesituation. Now,asthesoundofheavy stepscamefromthestairsoutside,hebrokesilenceat last.</s>“Afaircop!”saidhe. “But,Isay,whataboutthat bloomin’fiddle! Ihearityet.” “Tut, tut!” Holmes answered. “You are perfectly right. Letitplay! Thesemoderngramophonesarea remarkableinvention.” There was an inrush of police, the handcuffs clicked and the criminals were led to the waiting cab. Watson lingered with Holmes, congratulating him upon this fresh leaf added to his laurels. Once more their conversation was interrupted by the im- perturbableBillywithhiscard-tray.</s>“LordCantlemere,sir.” “Showhimup,Billy. Thisistheeminentpeerwho represents the very highest interests,” said Holmes.</s>“He is an excellent and loyal person, but rather of the old regime. Shall we make him unbend? Dare weventureuponaslightliberty? Heknows,wemay conjecture,nothingofwhathasoccurred.” The door opened to admit a thin, austere fig- urewithahatchetfaceanddroopingmid-Victorian whiskers of a glossy blackness which hardly corre- spondedwiththeroundedshouldersandfeeblegait.</s>Holmesadvancedaffably,andshookanunresponsive hand.</s>“Howdoyoudo,LordCantlemere? Itischillyfor thetimeofyear,butratherwarmindoors. MayItake yourovercoat?” “No,Ithankyou;Iwillnottakeitoff.” Holmeslaidhishandinsistentlyuponthesleeve.</s>“Prayallowme! MyfriendDr.Watsonwouldas- sureyouthatthesechangesoftemperaturearemost insidious.” HisLordshipshookhimselffreewithsomeimpa- tience.</s>“I am quite comfortable, sir. I have no need to stay. Ihavesimplylookedintoknowhowyourself- appointedtaskwasprogressing.” “Itisdifficult—verydifficult.” “Ifearedthatyouwouldfinditso.” There was a distinct sneer in the old courtier’s wordsandmanner.</s>“Everymanfindshislimitations,Mr.Holmes,but atleastitcuresusoftheweaknessofself-satisfaction.” “Yes,sir,Ihavebeenmuchperplexed.” “Nodoubt.” “Especially upon one point. Possibly you could helpmeuponit?” “Youapplyformyadviceratherlateintheday. I thoughtthatyouhadyourownall-sufficientmethods.</s>Still,Iamreadytohelpyou.” “Yousee,LordCantlemere,wecannodoubtframe acaseagainsttheactualthieves.” “Whenyouhavecaughtthem.” “Exactly. But the question is—how shall we pro- ceedagainstthereceiver?” “Isthisnotratherpremature?” “Itisaswelltohaveourplansready. Now,what would you regard as final evidence against the re- ceiver?” “Theactualpossessionofthestone.” “Youwouldarresthimuponthat?” “Mostundoubtedly.” Holmesseldomlaughed,buthegotasnearitas hisoldfriendWatsoncouldremember.</s>“In that case, my dear sir, I shall be under the painfulnecessityofadvisingyourarrest.” Lord Cantlemere was very angry. Some of the ancientfiresflickeredupintohissallowcheeks.</s>“You take a great liberty, Mr. Holmes. In fifty years of official life I cannot recall such a case. I amabusyman,sir,engageduponimportantaffairs, and I have no time or taste for foolish jokes. I may tellyoufrankly,sir,thatIhaveneverbeenabeliever in your powers, and that I have always been of the opinionthatthematterwasfarsaferinthehandsof the regular police force. Your conduct confirms all my conclusions. I have the honour, sir, to wish you good-evening.” Holmeshadswiftlychangedhispositionandwas betweenthepeerandthedoor.</s>“One moment, sir,” said he. “To actually go off with the Mazarin stone would be a more serious of- fence than to be found in temporary possession of it.”“Sir,thisisintolerable! Letmepass.” “Putyourhandintheright-handpocketofyour overcoat.” “Whatdoyoumean,sir?” “Come—come,dowhatIask.” An instant later the amazed peer was standing, blinkingandstammering,withthegreatyellowstone onhisshakingpalm.</s>“What! What! Howisthis,Mr.Holmes?” “Too bad, Lord Cantlemere, too bad!” cried Holmes. “My old friend here will tell you that I have an impish habit of practical joking. Also that I can never resist a dramatic situation. I took the liberty—the very great liberty, I admit—of putting the stone into your pocket at the beginning of our interview.” Theoldpeerstaredfromthestonetothesmiling facebeforehim.</s>“Sir, I am bewildered. But—yes—it is indeed theMazarinstone. Wearegreatlyyourdebtors, Mr.</s>Holmes. Yoursenseofhumourmay,asyouadmit,be somewhat perverted, and its exhibition remarkably untimely,butatleastIwithdrawanyreflectionIhave made upon your amazing professional powers. But how—” “Thecaseisbuthalffinished;thedetailscanwait.</s>Nodoubt,LordCantlemere,yourpleasureintelling ofthissuccessfulresultintheexaltedcircletowhich youreturnwillbesomesmallatonementformyprac- ticaljoke. Billy,youwillshowhisLordshipout,and tellMrs.HudsonthatIshouldbegladifshewould sendupdinnerfortwoassoonaspossible.”don’t think that any of my adventures withMr.SherlockHolmesopenedquiteso abruptly,orsodramatically,asthatwhich I I associate with The Three Gables. I had not seen Holmes for some days and had no idea of the new channel into which his activities had been directed. He was in a chatty mood that morning, however,andhadjustsettledmeintothewell-worn low armchair on one side of the fire, while he had curled down with his pipe in his mouth upon the oppositechair,whenourvisitorarrived. IfIhadsaid that a mad bull had arrived it would give a clearer impressionofwhatoccurred.</s>The door had flown open and a huge negro had burst into the room. He would have been a comic figureifhehadnotbeenterrific,forhewasdressed inaveryloudgraychecksuitwithaflowingsalmon- colouredtie. Hisbroadfaceandflattenednosewere thrustforward,ashissullendarkeyes,withasmoul- deringgleamofmaliceinthem,turnedfromoneof ustotheother.</s>“Whichofyougen’l’menisMasserHolmes?”he asked.</s>Holmesraisedhispipewithalanguidsmile.</s>“Oh! it’syou,isit?”saidourvisitor,comingwith anunpleasant,stealthysteproundtheangleoftheta- ble. “Seehere,MasserHolmes,youkeepyourhands out of other folks’ business. Leave folks to manage theirownaffairs. Gotthat,MasserHolmes?” “Keepontalking,”saidHolmes. “It’sfine.” “Oh! it’sfine,isit?”growledthesavage. “Itwon’t be so damn fine if I have to trim you up a bit. I’ve handledyourkindbeforenow,andtheydidn’tlook fine when I was through with them. Look at that, MasserHolmes!” Heswungahugeknottedlumpofafistundermy friend’snose. Holmesexamineditcloselywithanair ofgreatinterest. “Wereyoubornso?”heasked. “Or diditcomebydegrees?” It may have been the icy coolness of my friend, or it may have been the slight clatter which I made as I picked up the poker. In any case, our visitor’s mannerbecamelessflamboyant.</s>“Well,I’vegivenyoufairwarnin’,”saidhe. “I’ve afriendthat’sinterestedoutHarrowway—youknow what I’m meaning—and he don’t intend to have no buttin’ in by you. Got that? You ain’t the law, and I ain’tthelaweither,andifyoucomeinI’llbeonhand also. Don’tyouforgetit.” “I’ve wanted to meet you for some time,” said Holmes. “I won’t ask you to sit down, for I don’t likethesmellofyou,butaren’tyouSteveDixie,the bruiser?” “That’smyname,MasserHolmes,andyou’llget putthroughitforsureifyougivemeanylip.” “It is certainly the last thing you need,” said Holmes,staringatourvisitor’shideousmouth. “But it was the killing of young Perkins outside the Hol- bornBar—What! you’renotgoing?” The negro had sprung back, and his face was leaden. “I won’t listen to no such talk,” said he.</s>“What have I to do with this ’ere Perkins, Masser Holmes? I was trainin’ at the Bull Ring in Birming- hamwhenthisboydonegonegetintotrouble.” “Yes, you’ll tell the magistrate about it, Steve,” said Holmes. “I’ve been watching you and Barney Stockdale—” “SohelpmetheLord! MasserHolmes—” “That’s enough. Get out of it. I’ll pick you up whenIwantyou.” “Good-mornin’,MasserHolmes. Ihopethereain’t nohardfeelin’saboutthis’erevisit?” “Therewillbeunlessyoutellmewhosentyou.” “Why, there ain’t no secret about that, Masser Holmes. It was that same gen’l’man that you have justdonegonemention.” “Andwhosethimontoit?” “S’elpme. Idon’tknow,MasserHolmes. Hejust say, ‘Steve, you go see Mr. Holmes, and tell him his lifeain’tsafeifhegodownHarrowway.’ That’sthe whole truth.” Without waiting for any further ques- tioning,ourvisitorboltedoutoftheroomalmostas precipitatelyashehadentered. Holmesknockedout theashesofhispipewithaquietchuckle.</s>“Iamgladyouwerenotforcedtobreakhiswoolly head,Watson. Iobservedyourmanoeuvreswiththe poker. But he is really rather a harmless fellow, a great muscular, foolish, blustering baby, and easily cowed, as you have seen. He is one of the Spencer John gang and has taken part in some dirty work of late which I may clear up when I have time. His immediateprincipal,Barney,isamoreastuteperson.</s>Theyspecializeinassaults,intimidation,andthelike.</s>What I want to know is, who is at the back of them onthisparticularoccasion?” “Butwhydotheywanttointimidateyou?” “It is this Harrow Weald case. It decides me to lookintothematter,forifitisworthanyone’swhile totakesomuchtrouble,theremustbesomethingin it.” “Butwhatisit?”“Iwasgoingtotellyouwhenwehadthiscomic interlude. HereisMrs.Maberley’snote. Ifyoucareto comewithmewewillwireherandgooutatonce.” DearMr.SherlockHolmes[Iread]: I have had a succession of strange in- cidents occur to me in connection with thishouse,andIshouldmuchvalueyour advice. You would find me at home any time to-morrow. The house is within a shortwalkoftheWealdStation. Ibelieve thatmylatehusband,MortimerMaberley, wasoneofyourearlyclients.</s>—Yoursfaithfully, MaryMaberley The address was “The Three Gables, Harrow Weald.” “So that’s that!” said Holmes. “And now, if you can spare the time, Watson, we will get upon our way.” A short railway journey, and a shorter drive, brought us to the house, a brick and timber villa, standing in its own acre of undeveloped grassland.</s>Three small projections above the upper windows made a feeble attempt to justify its name. Behind was a grove of melancholy, half-grown pines, and thewholeaspectoftheplacewaspooranddepress- ing. None the less, we found the house to be well furnished,andtheladywhoreceiveduswasamost engaging elderly person, who bore every mark of refinementandculture.</s>“I remember your husband well, madam,” said Holmes, “though it is some years since he used my servicesinsometriflingmatter.” “Probably you would be more familiar with the nameofmysonDouglas.” Holmeslookedatherwithgreatinterest.</s>“Dearme! AreyouthemotherofDouglasMaber- ley? I knew him slightly. But of course all London knew him. What a magnificent creature he was! Whereishenow?” “Dead, Mr. Holmes, dead! He was attache at Rome,andhediedthereofpneumonialastmonth.” “I am sorry. One could not connect death with such a man. I have never known anyone so vitally alive. Helivedintensely—everyfibreofhim!” “Toointensely,Mr.Holmes. Thatwastheruinof him. You remember him as he was—debonair and splendid. Youdidnotseethemoody,morose,brood- ingcreatureintowhichhedeveloped. Hisheartwas broken. InasinglemonthIseemedtoseemygallant boyturnintoaworn-outcynicalman.” “Aloveaffair—awoman?” “Or a fiend. Well, it was not to talk of my poor ladthatIaskedyoutocome,Mr.Holmes.” “Dr.WatsonandIareatyourservice.” “Therehavebeensomeverystrangehappenings.</s>Ihavebeeninthishousemorethanayearnow,and as I wished to lead a retired life I have seen little of my neighbours. Three days ago I had a call from a manwhosaidthathewasahouseagent. Hesaidthat thishousewouldexactlysuitaclientofhis,andthat ifIwouldpartwithitmoneywouldbenoobject. It seemedtomeverystrangeasthereareseveralempty housesonthemarketwhichappeartobeequallyeli- gible,butnaturallyIwasinterestedinwhathesaid.</s>I therefore named a price which was five hundred poundsmorethanIgave. Heatonceclosedwiththe offer,butaddedthathisclientdesiredtobuythefur- nitureaswellandwouldIputapriceuponit. Some ofthisfurnitureisfrommyoldhome,anditis,asyou see, very good, so that I named a good round sum.</s>Tothisalsoheatonceagreed. Ihadalwayswanted to travel, and the bargain was so good a one that it really seemed that I should be my own mistress for therestofmylife.</s>“Yesterday the man arrived with the agreement all drawn out. Luckily I showed it to Mr. Sutro, my lawyer, who lives in Harrow. He said to me, ‘This is a very strange document. Are you aware that if yousignityoucouldnotlegallytakeanythingoutof thehouse—notevenyourownprivatepossessions?’ When the man came again in the evening I pointed thisout,andIsaidthatImeantonlytosellthefurni- ture.</s>“‘No,no,everything,’saidhe.</s>“‘Butmyclothes? Myjewels?’ “‘Well,well,someconcessionmightbemadefor yourpersonaleffects. Butnothingshallgooutofthe houseunchecked. Myclientisaveryliberalman,but hehashisfadsandhisownwayofdoingthings. Itis everythingornothingwithhim.’ “‘Thenitmustbenothing,’saidI.Andtherethe matterwasleft,butthewholethingseemedtometo besounusualthatIthought—” Herewehadaveryextraordinaryinterruption.</s>Holmesraisedhishandforsilence. Thenhestrode across the room, flung open the door, and dragged inagreatgauntwomanwhomhehadseizedbythe shoulder. She entered with ungainly struggle likesomehugeawkwardchicken,torn,squawking,outof itscoop.</s>“Leave me alone! What are you a-doin’ of?” she screeched.</s>“Why,Susan,whatisthis?” “Well,ma’am,Iwascomin’intoaskifthevisitors was stayin’ for lunch when this man jumped out at me.” “Ihavebeenlisteningtoherforthelastfivemin- utes,butdidnotwishtointerruptyourmostinterest- ingnarrative. Justalittlewheezy,Susan,areyounot? Youbreathetooheavilyforthatkindofwork.” Susan turned a sulky but amazed face upon her captor. “Who be you, anyhow, and what right have youa-pullin’meaboutlikethis?” “It was merely that I wished to ask a question in your presence. Did you, Mrs. Maberley, mention to anyone that you were going to write to me and consultme?” “No,Mr.Holmes,Ididnot.” “Whopostedyourletter?” “Susandid.” “Exactly. Now, Susan, to whom was it that you wroteorsentamessagetosaythatyourmistresswas askingadvicefromme?” “It’salie. Isentnomessage.” “Now, Susan, wheezy people may not live long, youknow. It’sawickedthingtotellfibs. Whomdid youtell?” “Susan!” cried her mistress, “I believe you are a bad,treacherouswoman. IremembernowthatIsaw youspeakingtosomeoneoverthehedge.” “That was my own business,” said the woman sullenly.</s>“Suppose I tell you that it was Barney Stockdale towhomyouspoke?”saidHolmes.</s>“Well,ifyouknow,whatdoyouwanttoaskfor?” “Iwasnotsure,butIknownow. Wellnow,Susan, itwillbeworthtenpoundstoyouifyouwilltellme whoisatthebackofBarney.” “Someonethatcouldlaydownathousandpounds foreverytenyouhaveintheworld.” “So,arichman? No;yousmiled—arichwoman.</s>Now we have got so far, you may as well give the nameandearnthetenner.” “I’llseeyouinhellfirst.” “Oh,Susan! Language!” “Iamclearingoutofhere. I’vehadenoughofyou all. I’llsendformyboxto-morrow.”Sheflouncedfor thedoor.</s>“Good-bye,Susan. Paregoricisthestuff... Now,” hecontinued,turningsuddenlyfromlivelytosevere when the door had closed behind the flushed and angrywoman,“thisgangmeansbusiness. Lookhow close they play the game. Your letter to me had the 10P.M.postmark. AndyetSusanpassesthewordto Barney. Barneyhastimetogotohisemployerandget instructions;heorshe—IinclinetothelatterfromSu- san’sgrinwhenshethoughtIhadblundered—forms aplan. BlackSteveiscalledin,andIamwarnedoff by eleven o’clock next morning. That’s quick work, youknow.” “Butwhatdotheywant?” “Yes,that’sthequestion. Whohadthehousebe- foreyou?” “AretiredseacaptaincalledFerguson.” “Anythingremarkableabouthim?” “NotthateverIheardof.” “Iwaswonderingwhetherhecouldhaveburied something. Of course, when people bury treasure nowadays they do it in the Post-Office bank. But therearealwayssomelunaticsabout. Itwouldbea dullworldwithoutthem. AtfirstIthoughtofsome buried valuable. But why, in that case, should they want your furniture? You don’t happen to have a RaphaelorafirstfolioShakespearewithoutknowing it?” “No, I don’t think I have anything rarer than a CrownDerbytea-set.” “That would hardly justify all this mystery. Be- sides, why should they not openly state what they want? Iftheycovetyourtea-set,theycansurelyoffer apriceforitwithoutbuyingyouout,lock,stock,and barrel. No,asIreadit,thereissomethingwhichyou donotknowthatyouhave,andwhichyouwouldnot giveupifyoudidknow.” “ThatishowIreadit,”saidI.</s>“Dr.Watsonagrees,sothatsettlesit.” “Well,Mr.Holmes,whatcanitbe?” “Letusseewhetherbythispurelymentalanalysis we can get it to a finer point. You have been in this houseayear.” “Nearlytwo.” “All the better. During this long period no one wantsanythingfromyou. Nowsuddenlywithinthree orfourdaysyouhaveurgentdemands. Whatwould yougatherfromthat?”“Itcanonlymean,”saidI,“thattheobject,what- everitmaybe,hasonlyjustcomeintothehouse.” “Settled once again,” said Holmes. “Now, Mrs.</s>Maberley,hasanyobjectjustarrived?” “No,Ihaveboughtnothingnewthisyear.” “Indeed! Thatisveryremarkable. Well,Ithinkwe hadbestletmattersdevelopalittlefurtheruntilwe have clearer data. Is that lawyer of yours a capable man?” “Mr.Sutroismostcapable.” “Have you another maid, or was the fair Susan, whohasjustbangedyourfrontdoor,alone?” “Ihaveayounggirl.” “TryandgetSutrotospendanightortwointhe house. Youmightpossiblywantprotection.” “Againstwhom?” “Whoknows? Thematteriscertainlyobscure. If Ican’tfindwhattheyareafter,Imustapproachthe matterfromtheotherendandtrytogetattheprinci- pal. Didthishouse-agentmangiveanyaddress?” “Simplyhiscardandoccupation. Haines-Johnson, AuctioneerandValuer.” “I don’t think we shall find him in the directory.</s>Honestbusinessmendon’tconcealtheirplaceofbusi- ness. Well, you will let me know any fresh develop- ment. I have taken up your case, and you may rely uponitthatIshallseeitthrough.” As we passed through the hall Holmes’s eyes, which missed nothing, lighted upon several trunks and cases which were piled in a corner. The labels shoneoutuponthem.</s>“‘Milano.’ ‘Lucerne.’ ThesearefromItaly.” “TheyarepoorDouglas’sthings.” “You have not unpacked them? How long have youhadthem?” “Theyarrivedlastweek.” “Butyousaid—why,surelythismightbethemiss- inglink. Howdoweknowthatthereisnotsomething ofvaluethere?” “There could not possibly be, Mr. Holmes. Poor Douglashadonlyhispayandasmallannuity. What couldhehaveofvalue?” Holmeswaslostinthought.</s>“Delaynolonger,Mrs.Maberley,”hesaidatlast.</s>“Have these things taken upstairs to your bedroom.</s>Examinethemassoonaspossibleandseewhatthey contain. Iwillcometo-morrowandhearyourreport.” It was quite evident that The Three Gables was underveryclosesurveillance,foraswecameround the high hedge at the end of the lane there was the negroprize-fighterstandingintheshadow. Wecame on him quite suddenly, and a grim and menacing figurehelookedinthatlonelyplace. Holmesclapped hishandtohispocket.</s>“Lookin’foryourgun,MasserHolmes?” “No,formyscent-bottle,Steve.” “Youarefunny,MasserHolmes,ain’tyou?” “Itwon’tbefunnyforyou,Steve,ifIgetafteryou.</s>Igaveyoufairwarningthismorning.” “Well, Masser Holmes, I done gone think over whatyousaid,andIdon’twantnomoretalkabout that affair of Masser Perkins. S’pose I can help you, MasserHolmes,Iwill.” “Well, then, tell me who is behind you on this job.” “SohelpmetheLord! MasserHolmes,Itoldyou thetruthbefore. Idon’tknow. MybossBarneygives meordersandthat’sall.” “Well, just bear in mind, Steve, that the lady in thathouse,andeverythingunderthatroof,isunder myprotection. Don’tforgetit.” “Allright,MasserHolmes. I’llremember.” “I’ve got him thoroughly frightened for his own skin,Watson,”Holmesremarkedaswewalkedon. “I thinkhewoulddouble-crosshisemployerifheknew who he was. It was lucky I had some knowledge of the Spencer John crowd, and that Steve was one of them. Now,Watson,thisisacaseforLangdalePike, and I am going to see him now. When I get back I maybeclearerinthematter.” I saw no more of Holmes during the day, but I couldwellimaginehowhespentit,forLangdalePike washishumanbookofreferenceuponallmattersof social scandal. This strange, languid creature spent hiswakinghoursinthebowwindowofaSt.James’s Street club and was the receiving-station as well as the transmitter for all the gossip of the metropolis.</s>He made, it was said, a four-figure income by the paragraphswhichhecontributedeveryweektothe garbage papers which cater to an inquisitive public.</s>Ifever,fardownintheturbiddepthsofLondonlife, therewassomestrangeswirloreddy,itwasmarked with automatic exactness by this human dial upon the surface. Holmes discreetly helped Langdale to knowledge,andonoccasionwashelpedinturn.</s>When I met my friend in his room early next morning, I was conscious from his bearing that allwaswell,butnonethelessamostunpleasantsurprise was awaiting us. It took the shape of the following telegram: Please come out at once. Client’s house burgledinthenight. Policeinpossession.</s>—Sutro.</s>Holmeswhistled. “Thedramahascometoacrisis, and quicker than I had expected. There is a great driving-power at the back of this business, Watson, whichdoesnotsurprisemeafterwhatIhaveheard.</s>ThisSutro,ofcourse,isherlawyer. Imadeamistake, Ifear,innotaskingyoutospendthenightonguard.</s>This fellow has clearly proved a broken reed. Well, thereisnothingforitbutanotherjourneytoHarrow Weald.” WefoundTheThreeGablesaverydifferentestab- lishmenttotheorderlyhouseholdofthepreviousday.</s>Asmallgroupofidlershadassembledatthegarden gate,whileacoupleofconstableswereexaminingthe windows and the geranium beds. Within we met a gray old gentleman, who introduced himself as the lawyer,togetherwithabustling,rubicundinspector, whogreetedHolmesasanoldfriend.</s>“Well,Mr.Holmes,nochanceforyouinthiscase, I’m afraid. Just a common, ordinary burglary, and well within the capacity of the poor old police. No expertsneedapply.” “I am sure the case is in very good hands,” said Holmes. “Merelyacommonburglary,yousay?” “Quite so. We know pretty well who the men areandwheretofindthem. ItisthatgangofBarney Stockdale,withthebigniggerinit—they’vebeenseen abouthere.” “Excellent! Whatdidtheyget?” “Well, they don’t seem to have got much. Mrs.</s>Maberleywaschloroformedandthehousewas—Ah! hereistheladyherself.” Ourfriendofyesterday,lookingverypaleandill, hadenteredtheroom,leaninguponalittlemaidser- vant.</s>“Yougavemegoodadvice,Mr.Holmes,”saidshe, smiling ruefully. “Alas, I did not take it! I did not wishtotroubleMr.Sutro,andsoIwasunprotected.” “I only heard of it this morning,” the lawyer ex- plained.</s>“Mr. Holmes advised me to have some friend in thehouse. Ineglectedhisadvice,andIhavepaidfor it.” “Youlookwretchedlyill,”saidHolmes. “Perhaps youarehardlyequaltotellingmewhatoccurred.” “Itisallhere,”saidtheinspector,tappingabulky notebook.</s>“Still,iftheladyisnottooexhausted—” “There is really so little to tell. I have no doubt thatwickedSusanhadplannedanentranceforthem.</s>They must have known the house to an inch. I was consciousforamomentofthechloroformragwhich wasthrustovermymouth,butIhavenonotionhow long I may have been senseless. When I woke, one manwasatthebedsideandanotherwasrisingwith abundleinhishandfromamongmyson’sbaggage, whichwaspartiallyopenedandlitteredoverthefloor.</s>Before he could get away I sprang up and seized him.” “Youtookabigrisk,”saidtheinspector.</s>“Iclungtohim,butheshookmeoff,andtheother may have struck me, for I can remember no more.</s>Marythemaidheardthenoiseandbeganscreaming outofthewindow. Thatbroughtthepolice,butthe rascalshadgotaway.” “Whatdidtheytake?” “Well, I don’t think there is anything of value missing. I am sure there was nothing in my son’s trunks.” “Didthemenleavenoclue?” “TherewasonesheetofpaperwhichImayhave torn from the man that I grasped. It was lying all crumpledonthefloor. Itisinmyson’shandwriting.” “Whichmeansthatitisnotofmuchuse,”saidthe inspector. “Nowifithadbeenintheburglar’s—” “Exactly,” said Holmes. “What rugged common sense! Nonetheless,Ishouldbecurioustoseeit.” Theinspectordrewafoldedsheetoffoolscapfrom hispocketbook.</s>“Ineverpassanything,howevertrifling,”saidhe with some pomposity. “That is my advice to you, Mr.Holmes. Intwenty-fiveyears’experienceIhave learned my lesson. There is always the chance of finger-marksorsomething.” Holmesinspectedthesheetofpaper.</s>“Whatdoyoumakeofit,Inspector?” “Seemstobetheendofsomequeernovel,sofar asIcansee.” “It may certainly prove to be the end of a queer tale,” said Holmes. “You have noticed the number on the top of the page. It is two hundred and forty- five. Wherearetheoddtwohundredandforty-four pages?”“Well, I suppose the burglars got those. Much goodmayitdothem!” “It seems a queer thing to break into a house in order to steal such papers as that. Does it suggest anythingtoyou,Inspector?” “Yes,sir,itsuggeststhatintheirhurrytherascals justgrabbedatwhatcamefirsttohand. Iwishthem joyofwhattheygot.” “Whyshouldtheygotomyson’sthings?”asked Mrs.Maberley.</s>“Well,theyfoundnothingvaluabledownstairs,so they tried their luck upstairs. That is how I read it.</s>Whatdoyoumakeofit,Mr.Holmes?” “Imustthinkitover,Inspector. Cometothewin- dow, Watson.” Then, as we stood together, he read overthefragmentofpaper. Itbeganinthemiddleof asentenceandranlikethis: “... face bled considerably from the cuts and blows, but it was nothing to the bleeding of his heart as he saw that lovely face, the face forwhichhehadbeenpreparedtosacrificehis very life, looking out at his agony and hu- miliation. She smiled—yes, by Heaven! she smiled, like the heartless fiend she was, as he looked up at her. It was at that moment that love died and hate was born. Man must live for something. If it is not for your embrace, mylady,thenitshallsurelybeforyourundo- ingandmycompleterevenge.” “Queer grammar!” said Holmes with a smile as hehandedthepaperbacktotheinspector. “Didyou notice how the ‘he’ suddenly changed to ‘my’? The writerwassocarriedawaybyhisownstorythathe imagined himself at the supreme moment to be the hero.” “Itseemedmightypoorstuff,”saidtheinspector ashereplaceditinhisbook. “What! areyouoff,Mr.</s>Holmes?” “I don’t think there is anything more for me to do now that the case is in such capable hands. By the way, Mrs. Maberley, did you say you wished to travel?” “Ithasalwaysbeenmydream,Mr.Holmes.” “Wherewouldyouliketogo—Cairo,Madeira,the Riviera?” “Oh, if I had the money I would go round the world.” “Quiteso. Roundtheworld. Well,good-morning.</s>Imaydropyoualineintheevening.”Aswepassed the window I caught a glimpse of the inspector’s smile and shake of the head. “These clever fellows have always a touch of madness.” That was what I readintheinspector’ssmile.</s>“Now, Watson, weareatthelastlapofourlittle journey,”saidHolmeswhenwewerebackintheroar of central London once more. “I think we had best clearthematterupatonce,anditwouldbewellthat you should come with me, for it is safer to have a witness when you are dealing with such a lady as IsadoraKlein.” We had taken a cab and were speeding to some addressinGrosvenorSquare. Holmeshadbeensunk inthought,butherousedhimselfsuddenly.</s>“By the way, Watson, I suppose you see it all clearly?” “No,Ican’tsaythatIdo. Ionlygatherthatweare goingtoseetheladywhoisbehindallthismischief.” “Exactly! ButdoesthenameIsadoraKleinconvey nothing to you? She was, of course, the celebrated beauty. Therewasneverawomantotouchher. Sheis pureSpanish,therealbloodofthemasterfulConquis- tadors,andherpeoplehavebeenleadersinPernam- bucoforgenerations. ShemarriedtheagedGerman sugar king, Klein, and presently found herself the richestaswellasthemostlovelywidowuponearth.</s>Then there was an interval of adventure when she pleased her own tastes. She had several lovers, and Douglas Maberley, one of the most striking men in London, was one of them. It was by all accounts morethananadventurewithhim. Hewasnotasoci- etybutterflybutastrong,proudmanwhogaveand expected all. But she is the ‘belle dame sans merci’ of fiction. When her caprice is satisfied the matter is ended,andiftheotherpartyinthemattercan’ttake her word for it she knows how to bring it home to him.” “Thenthatwashisownstory—” “Ah! youarepiecingittogethernow. Ihearthat she is about to marry the young Duke of Lomond, whomightalmostbeherson. HisGrace’smamight overlooktheage,butabigscandalwouldbeadiffer- entmatter,soitisimperative—Ah! hereweare.” Itwasoneofthefinestcorner-housesoftheWest End. Amachine-likefootmantookupourcardsand returned with word that the lady was not at home.</s>“Thenweshallwaituntilsheis,”saidHolmescheer- fully.</s>Themachinebrokedown.</s>“Notathomemeansnotathometoyou,”saidthe footman.“Good,”Holmesanswered. “Thatmeansthatwe shallnothavetowait. Kindlygivethisnotetoyour mistress.” Hescribbledthreeorfourwordsuponasheetof hisnotebook,foldedit,andhandedittotheman.</s>“Whatdidyousay,Holmes?”Iasked.</s>“I simply wrote: ‘Shall it be the police, then?’ I thinkthatshouldpassusin.” Itdid—withamazingcelerity. Aminutelaterwe were in an Arabian Nights drawing-room, vast and wonderful,inahalfgloom,pickedoutwithanocca- sional pink electric light. The lady had come, I felt, to that time of life when even the proudest beauty finds the half light more welcome. She rose from a settee as we entered: tall, queenly, a perfect figure, alovelymask-likeface,withtwowonderfulSpanish eyeswhichlookedmurderatusboth.</s>“What is this intrusion—and this insulting mes- sage?”sheasked,holdinguptheslipofpaper.</s>“I need not explain, madame. I have too much respectforyourintelligencetodoso—thoughIcon- fessthatintelligencehasbeensurprisinglyatfaultof late.” “Howso,sir?” “By supposing that your hired bullies could frightenmefrommywork. Surelynomanwouldtake up my profession if it were not that danger attracts him. Itwasyou,then,whoforcedmetoexaminethe caseofyoungMaberley.” “Ihavenoideawhatyouaretalkingabout. What haveItodowithhiredbullies?” Holmesturnedawaywearily.</s>“Yes, I have underrated your intelligence. Well, good-afternoon!” “Stop! Whereareyougoing?” “ToScotlandYard.” We had not got halfway to the door before she hadovertakenusandwasholdinghisarm. Shehad turnedinamomentfromsteeltovelvet.</s>“Comeandsitdown,gentlemen. Letustalkthis matter over. I feel that I may be frank with you, Mr.</s>Holmes. Youhavethefeelingsofagentleman. How quickawoman’sinstinctistofinditout. Iwilltreat youasafriend.” “I cannot promise to reciprocate, madame. I am notthelaw,butIrepresentjusticesofarasmyfeeble powers go. I am ready to listen, and then I will tell youhowIwillact.” “Nodoubtitwasfoolishofmetothreatenabrave manlikeyourself.” “What was really foolish, madame, is that you haveplacedyourselfinthepowerofabandofrascals whomayblackmailorgiveyouaway.” “No,no! Iamnotsosimple. SinceIhavepromised tobefrank,Imaysaythatnoone,saveBarneyStock- daleandSusan,hiswife,havetheleastideawhotheir employer is. As to them, well, it is not the first—” Shesmiledandnoddedwithacharmingcoquettish intimacy.</s>“Isee. You’vetestedthembefore.” “Theyaregoodhoundswhorunsilent.” “Suchhoundshaveawaysoonerorlaterofbiting the hand that feeds them. They will be arrested for thisburglary. Thepolicearealreadyafterthem.” “Theywilltakewhatcomestothem. Thatiswhat theyarepaidfor. Ishallnotappearinthematter.” “UnlessIbringyouintoit.” “No,no,youwouldnot. Youareagentleman. It isawoman’ssecret.” “In the first place, you must give back this manuscript.” Shebrokeintoarippleoflaughterandwalkedto the fireplace. There was a calcined mass which she broke up with the poker. “Shall I give this back?” sheasked. Soroguishandexquisitedidshelookas she stood before us with a challenging smile that I feltofallHolmes’scriminalsthiswastheonewhom he would find it hardest to face. However, he was immunefromsentiment.</s>“That seals your fate,” he said coldly. “You are verypromptinyouractions,madame,butyouhave overdoneitonthisoccasion.” Shethrewthepokerdownwithaclatter.</s>“How hard you are!” she cried. “May I tell you thewholestory?” “IfancyIcouldtellittoyou.” “Butyoumustlookatitwithmyeyes,Mr.Holmes.</s>Youmustrealizeitfromthepointofviewofawoman whoseesallherlife’sambitionabouttoberuinedat thelastmoment. Issuchawomantobeblamedifshe protectsherself?” “Theoriginalsinwasyours.” “Yes,yes! Iadmitit. Hewasadearboy,Douglas, butitsochancedthathecouldnotfitintomyplans.</s>Hewantedmarriage—marriage,Mr.Holmes—witha pennilesscommoner. Nothinglesswouldservehim.</s>Thenhebecamepertinacious. BecauseIhadgivenhe seemedtothinkthatIstillmustgive,andtohimonly.Itwasintolerable. AtlastIhadtomakehimrealize it.” “By hiring ruffians to beat him under your own window.” “You do indeed seem to know everything. Well, itistrue. Barneyandtheboysdrovehimaway,and were,Iadmit,alittleroughindoingso. Butwhatdid hedothen? CouldIhavebelievedthatagentleman woulddosuchanact? Hewroteabookinwhichhe describedhisownstory. I,ofcourse,wasthewolf;he thelamb. Itwasallthere,underdifferentnames,of course; but who in all London would have failed to recognizeit? Whatdoyousaytothat,Mr.Holmes?” “Well,hewaswithinhisrights.” “ItwasasiftheairofItalyhadgotintohisblood and brought with it the old cruel Italian spirit. He wrote to me and sent me a copy of his book that I mighthavethetortureofanticipation. Thereweretwo copies,hesaid—oneforme,oneforhispublisher.” “How did you know the publisher’s had not reachedhim?” “Iknewwhohispublisherwas. Itisnothisonly novel, you know. I found out that he had not heard from Italy. Then came Douglas’s sudden death. So longasthatothermanuscriptwasintheworldthere was no safety for me. Of course, it must be among hiseffects,andthesewouldbereturnedtohismother.</s>I set the gang at work. One of them got into the house as servant. I wanted to do the thing honestly.</s>Ireallyandtrulydid. Iwasreadytobuythehouse and everything in it. I offered any price she cared to ask. I only tried the other way when everything elsehadfailed. Now,Mr.Holmes,grantingthatIwas too hard on Douglas—and, God knows, I am sorry forit!—whatelsecouldIdowithmywholefutureat stake?” SherlockHolmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“Well, well,” said he, “I suppose I shall have to compoundafelonyasusual. Howmuchdoesitcost togoroundtheworldinfirst-classstyle?” Theladystaredinamazement.</s>“Coulditbedoneonfivethousandpounds?” “Well,Ishouldthinkso,indeed!” “Verygood. Ithinkyouwillsignmeacheckfor that,andIwillseethatitcomestoMrs.Maberley. You owe her a little change of air. Meantime, lady”—he waggedacautionaryforefinger—“haveacare! Havea care! Youcan’tplaywithedgedtoolsforeverwithout cuttingthosedaintyhands.”olmes had read carefully a note which thelastposthadbroughthim. Then,with the dry chuckle which was his nearest ap- H proachtoalaugh,hetosseditovertome.</s>“Foramixtureofthemodernandthemediaeval, ofthepracticalandofthewildlyfanciful,Ithinkthis issurelythelimit,”saidhe. “Whatdoyoumakeofit, Watson?” Ireadasfollows: 46,OldJewry, Nov.19th.</s>ReVampires Sir: Ourclient,Mr.RobertFerguson,ofFer- gusonandMuirhead,teabrokers,ofMinc- ing Lane, has made some inquiry from us in a communication of even date con- cerningvampires. Asourfirmspecializes entirely upon the assessment of machin- ery the matter hardly comes within our purview, and we have therefore recom- mended Mr. Ferguson to call upon you and lay the matter before you. We have notforgottenyoursuccessfulactioninthe caseofMatildaBriggs.</s>Weare,sir, —Faithfullyyours, Morrison,Morrison,andDodd.</s>perE.J.C.</s>“Matilda Briggs was not the name of a young woman,Watson,”saidHolmesinareminiscentvoice.</s>“It was a ship which is associated with the giant rat of Sumatra, a story for which the world is not yet prepared. But what do we know about vampires? Does it come within our purview either? Anything isbetterthanstagnation,butreallyweseemtohave been switched on to a Grimms’ fairy tale. Make a longarm,Watson,andseewhatVhastosay.” Ileanedbackandtookdownthegreatindexvol- umetowhichhereferred. Holmesbalanceditonhis knee, and his eyes moved slowly and lovingly over therecordofoldcases,mixedwiththeaccumulated informationofalifetime.</s>“Voyage of the Gloria Scott,” he read. “That was a bad business. I have some recollection that you madearecordofit,Watson,thoughIwasunableto congratulate you upon the result. Victor Lynch, the forger. Venomous lizard or gila. Remarkable case, that! Vittoria, the circus belle. Vanderbilt and the Yeggman. Vipers. Vigor, theHammersmithwonder.</s>Hullo! Hullo! Good old index. You can’t beat it.</s>Listentothis,Watson. VampirisminHungary. And again, Vampires in Transylvania.” He turned over thepageswitheagerness,butafterashortintentpe- rusal he threw down the great book with a snarl of disappointment.</s>“Rubbish,Watson,rubbish! Whathavewetodo with walking corpses who can only be held in their gravebystakesdriventhroughtheirhearts? It’spure lunacy.” “But surely,” said I, “the vampire was not neces- sarily a dead man? A living person might have the habit. Ihaveread,forexample,oftheoldsuckingthe bloodoftheyounginordertoretaintheiryouth.” “You are right, Watson. It mentions the legend in one of these references. But are we to give se- rious attention to such things? This agency stands flat-footedupontheground,andthereitmustremain.</s>Theworldisbigenoughforus. Noghostsneedapply.</s>IfearthatwecannottakeMr.RobertFergusonvery seriously. Possibly this note may be from him and maythrowsomelightuponwhatisworryinghim.” He took up a second letter which had lain un- noticed upon the table while he had been absorbed with the first. This he began to read with a smile ofamusementuponhisfacewhichgraduallyfaded away into an expression of intense interest and con- centration. Whenhehadfinishedhesatforsomelittle timelostinthoughtwiththeletterdanglingfromhis fingers. Finally,withastart,hearousedhimselffrom hisreverie.</s>“Cheeseman’s, Lamberley. Where is Lamberley, Watson?” “ItisinSussex,southofHorsham.” “Notveryfar,eh? AndCheeseman’s?” “I know that country, Holmes. It is full of old houses which are named after the men who built them centuries ago. You get Odley’s and Harvey’s andCarriton’s—thefolkareforgottenbuttheirnames liveintheirhouses.</s>“Precisely,”saidHolmescoldly. Itwasoneofthe peculiaritiesofhisproud,self-containednaturethat thoughhedocketedanyfreshinformationveryqui- etlyandaccuratelyinhisbrain,heseldommadeany acknowledgmenttothegiver. “Iratherfancyweshall know a good deal more about Cheeseman’s, Lam- berley,beforewearethrough. Theletteris,asIhad hoped,fromRobertFerguson. Bytheway,heclaims acquaintancewithyou.” “Withme!”“Youhadbetterreadit.” He handed the letter across. It was headed with theaddressquoted.</s>DearMr.Holmes[itsaid]: Ihavebeenrecommendedtoyoubymy lawyers, but indeed the matter is so ex- traordinarily delicate that it is most dif- ficult to discuss. It concerns a friend for whom I am acting. This gentleman married some five years ago a Peruvian lady,thedaughterofaPeruvianmerchant, whomhehadmetinconnectionwiththe importationofnitrates. Theladywasvery beautiful,butthefactofherforeignbirth and of her alien religion always caused a separation of interests and of feelings between husband and wife, so that af- ter a time his love may have cooled to- wards her and he may have come to re- gard their union as a mistake. He felt thereweresidesofhercharacterwhichhe could never explore or understand. This was the more painful as she was as lov- ing a wife as a man could have—to all appearanceabsolutelydevoted.</s>Now for the point which I will make more plain when we meet. Indeed, this noteismerelytogiveyouageneralidea of the situation and to ascertain whether youwouldcaretointerestyourselfinthe matter. Theladybegantoshowsomecu- rious traits quite alien to her ordinarily sweetandgentledisposition. Thegentle- manhadbeenmarriedtwiceandhehad one son by the first wife. This boy was now fifteen, a very charming and affec- tionate youth, though unhappily injured through anaccident inchildhood. Twice the wife was caught in the act of assault- ingthispoorladinthemostunprovoked way. Onceshestruckhimwithastickand leftagreatwealonhisarm.</s>This was a small matter, however, com- paredwithherconducttoherownchild, adearboyjustunderoneyearofage. On oneoccasionaboutamonthagothischild had been left by its nurse for a few min- utes. Aloudcryfromthebaby,asofpain, called the nurse back. As she ran into theroomshesawheremployer,thelady, leaningoverthebabyandapparentlybit- ing his neck. There was a small wound intheneckfromwhichastreamofblood had escaped. The nurse was so horrified that she wished to call the husband, but the lady implored her not to do so and actually gave her five pounds as a price for her silence. No explanation was ever given,andforthemomentthematterwas passedover.</s>It left, however, a terrible impression uponthenurse’smind,andfromthattime she began to watch her mistress closely andtokeepacloserguarduponthebaby, whom she tenderly loved. It seemed to herthatevenasshewatchedthemother, so the mother watched her, and that ev- ery time she was compelled to leave the babyalonethemotherwaswaitingtoget atit. Dayandnightthenursecoveredthe child,anddayandnightthesilent,watch- fulmotherseemedtobelyinginwaitasa wolf waits for a lamb. It must read most incredibletoyou,andyetIbegyoutotake it seriously, for a child’s life and a man’s sanitymaydependuponit.</s>At last there came one dreadful day when the facts could no longer be con- cealed from the husband. The nurse’s nervehadgivenway;shecouldstandthe strain no longer, and she made a clean breast of it all to the man. To him it seemedaswildataleasitmaynowseem to you. He knew his wife to be a lov- ing wife, and, save for the assaults upon her stepson, a loving mother. Why, then, should she wound her own dear little baby? He told the nurse that she was dreaming,thathersuspicionswerethose ofalunatic,andthatsuchlibelsuponher mistress were not to be tolerated. While they were talking a sudden cry of pain was heard. Nurse and master rushed to- gethertothenursery. Imaginehisfeelings, Mr.Holmes,ashesawhiswiferisefrom akneelingpositionbesidethecotandsaw blooduponthechild’sexposedneckand upon the sheet. With a cry of horror, he turnedhiswife’sfacetothelightandsaw bloodallroundherlips. Itwasshe—she beyondallquestion—whohaddrunkthe poorbaby’sblood.</s>So the matter stands. She is now con- fined to herroom. There has beenno ex-planation. Thehusbandishalfdemented.</s>Heknows,andIknow,littleofvampirism beyondthename. Wehadthoughtitwas some wild tale of foreign parts. And yet hereintheveryheartoftheEnglishSus- sex—well, all this can be discussed with you in the morning. Will you see me? Willyouuseyourgreatpowersinaiding a distracted man? If so, kindly wire to Ferguson,Cheeseman’s,Lamberley,andI willbeatyourroomsbyteno’clock.</s>—Yoursfaithfully, RobertFerguson.</s>P.S.IbelieveyourfriendWatsonplayed Rugby for Blackheath when I was three- quarter for Richmond. It is the only per- sonalintroductionwhichIcangive.</s>“Of course I remembered him,” said I as I laid downtheletter. “BigBobFerguson,thefinestthree- quarterRichmondeverhad. Hewasalwaysagood- naturedchap. It’slikehimtobesoconcernedovera friend’scase.” Holmeslookedatmethoughtfullyandshookhis head.</s>“Inevergetyourlimits,Watson,”saidhe. “There are unexplored possibilities about you. Take a wire down, like a good fellow. ‘Will examine your case withpleasure.’” “Yourcase!” “We must not let him think that this agency is a home for the weak-minded. Of course it is his case.</s>Sendhimthatwireandletthematterresttillmorn- ing.” Promptly at ten o’clock next morning Ferguson strode into our room. I had remembered him as a long,slab-sidedmanwithlooselimbsandafineturn ofspeedwhichhadcarriedhimroundmanyanop- posing back. There is surely nothing in life more painfulthantomeetthewreckofafineathletewhom one has known in his prime. His great frame had fallen in, his flaxen hair was scanty, and his shoul- derswerebowed. IfearthatIrousedcorresponding emotionsinhim.</s>“Hullo, Watson,” said he, and his voice was still deepandhearty. “Youdon’tlookquitethemanyou didwhenIthrewyouovertheropesintothecrowd at the Old Deer Park. I expect I have changed a bit also. Butit’sthislastdayortwothathasagedme. I see by your telegram, Mr. Holmes, that it is no use mypretendingtobeanyone’sdeputy.” “Itissimplertodealdirect,”saidHolmes.</s>“Ofcourseitis. Butyoucanimaginehowdifficult itiswhenyouarespeakingoftheonewomanwhom you are bound to protect and help. What can I do? HowamItogotothepolicewithsuchastory? And yetthekiddieshavegottobeprotected. Isitmadness, Mr.Holmes? Isitsomethingintheblood? Haveyou anysimilarcaseinyourexperience? ForGod’ssake, givemesomeadvice,forIamatmywit’send.” “Verynaturally,Mr.Ferguson. Nowsithereand pull yourself together and give me a few clear an- swers. IcanassureyouthatIamveryfarfrombeing atmywit’send,andthatIamconfidentweshallfind some solution. First of all, tell me what steps you havetaken. Isyourwifestillnearthechildren?” “We had a dreadful scene. She is a most loving woman, Mr. Holmes. If ever a woman loved a man with all her heart and soul, she loves me. She was cut to the heart that I should have discovered this horrible, this incredible, secret. She would not even speak. Shegavenoanswertomyreproaches,saveto gazeatmewithasortofwild,despairinglookinher eyes. Thensherushedtoherroomandlockedherself in. Since then she has refused to see me. She has a maidwhowaswithherbeforehermarriage,Dolores by name—a friend rather than a servant. She takes herfoodtoher.” “Thenthechildisinnoimmediatedanger?” “Mrs. Mason, the nurse, has sworn that she will notleaveitnightorday. Icanabsolutelytrusther. I am more uneasy about poor little Jack, for, as I told youinmynote,hehastwicebeenassaultedbyher.” “Butneverwounded?” “No, she struck him savagely. It is the more ter- rible as he is a poor little inoffensive cripple.” Fer- guson’s gaunt features softened as he spoke of his boy. “Youwouldthinkthatthedearlad’scondition wouldsoftenanyone’sheart. Afallinchildhoodand a twisted spine, Mr. Holmes. But the dearest, most lovingheartwithin.” Holmeshadpickeduptheletterofyesterdayand wasreadingitover. “Whatotherinmatesaretherein yourhouse,Mr.Ferguson?” “Two servants who have not been long with us.</s>One stable-hand, Michael, who sleeps in the house.</s>Mywife,myself,myboyJack,baby,Dolores,andMrs.</s>Mason. Thatisall.” “Igatherthatyoudidnotknowyourwifewellat thetimeofyourmarriage?” “Ihadonlyknownherafewweeks.” “HowlonghadthismaidDoloresbeenwithher?”“Someyears.” “Thenyourwife’scharacterwouldreallybebetter knownbyDoloresthanbyyou?” “Yes,youmaysayso.” Holmesmadeanote.</s>“I fancy,” said he, “that I may be of more use at Lamberley than here. It is eminently a case for per- sonalinvestigation. Iftheladyremainsinherroom, our presence could not annoy or inconvenience her.</s>Ofcourse,wewouldstayattheinn.” Fergusongaveagestureofrelief.</s>“ItiswhatIhoped,Mr.Holmes. Thereisanexcel- lenttrainattwofromVictoriaifyoucouldcome.” “Of course we could come. There is a lull at present. Icangiveyoumyundividedenergies. Wat- son, of course, comes with us. But there are one or twopointsuponwhichIwishtobeverysurebefore I start. This unhappy lady, as I understand it, has appearedtoassaultboththechildren,herownbaby andyourlittleson?” “Thatisso.” “Buttheassaultstakedifferentforms,dotheynot? Shehasbeatenyourson.” “Once with a stick and once very savagely with herhands.” “Did she give no explanation why she struck him?” “Nonesavethatshehatedhim. Againandagain shesaidso.” “Well,thatisnotunknownamongstepmothers. A posthumousjealousy,wewillsay. Istheladyjealous bynature?” “Yes, she is very jealous—jealous with all the strengthofherfierytropicallove.” “But the boy—he is fifteen, I understand, and probablyverydevelopedinmind,sincehisbodyhas been circumscribed in action. Did he give you no explanationoftheseassaults?” “No,hedeclaredtherewasnoreason.” “Weretheygoodfriendsatothertimes?” “No,therewasneveranylovebetweenthem.” “Yetyousayheisaffectionate?” “Neverintheworldcouldtherebesodevoteda son. Mylifeishislife. HeisabsorbedinwhatIsay ordo.” OnceagainHolmesmadeanote. Forsometime hesatlostinthought.</s>“Nodoubtyouandtheboyweregreatcomrades before this second marriage. You were thrown very closetogether,wereyounot?” “Verymuchso.” “Andtheboy,havingsoaffectionateanature,was devoted,nodoubt,tothememoryofhismother?” “Mostdevoted.” “Hewouldcertainlyseemtobeamostinteresting lad. There is one other point about these assaults.</s>Were the strange attacks upon the baby and the as- saultsuponyoursonatthesameperiod?” “Inthefirstcaseitwasso. Itwasasifsomefrenzy had seized her, and she had vented her rage upon both. In the second case it was only Jack who suf- fered. Mrs.Masonhadnocomplainttomakeabout thebaby.” “Thatcertainlycomplicatesmatters.” “Idon’tquitefollowyou,Mr.Holmes.” “Possiblynot. Oneformsprovisionaltheoriesand waits for time or fuller knowledge to explode them.</s>Abadhabit,Mr.Ferguson,buthumannatureisweak.</s>Ifearthatyouroldfriendherehasgivenanexagger- atedviewofmyscientificmethods. However,Iwill onlysayatthepresentstagethatyourproblemdoes not appear to me to be insoluble, and that you may expecttofindusatVictoriaattwoo’clock.” It was evening of a dull, foggy November day when, having left our bags at the Chequers, Lam- berley, we drove through the Sussex clay of a long winding lane and finally reached the isolated and ancient farmhouse in which Ferguson dwelt. It was a large, straggling building, very old in the centre, verynewatthewingswithtoweringTudorchimneys andalichen-spotted,high-pitchedroofofHorsham slabs. Thedoorstepswerewornintocurves,andthe ancienttileswhichlinedtheporchweremarkedwith the rebus of a cheese and a man after the original builder. Within, the ceilings were corrugated with heavy oaken beams, and the uneven floors sagged into sharp curves. An odour of age and decay per- vadedthewholecrumblingbuilding.</s>Therewasoneverylargecentralroomintowhich Fergusonledus. Here,inahugeold-fashionedfire- placewithanironscreenbehinditdated1670,there blazedandsplutteredasplendidlogfire.</s>Theroom,asIgazedround,wasamostsingular mixture of dates and of places. The half-panelled walls may well have belonged to the original yeo- man farmer of the seventeenth century. They were ornamented, however, on the lower part by a line of well-chosen modern water-colours; while above, whereyellowplastertooktheplaceofoak,therewashungafinecollectionofSouthAmericanutensilsand weapons,whichhadbeenbrought,nodoubt,bythe Peruvianladyupstairs. Holmesrose,withthatquick curiositywhichsprangfromhiseagermind,andex- aminedthemwithsomecare. Hereturnedwithhis eyesfullofthought.</s>“Hullo!”hecried. “Hullo!” Aspanielhadlaininabasketinthecorner. Itcame slowlyforwardtowardsitsmaster,walkingwithdiffi- culty. Itshindlegsmovedirregularlyanditstailwas ontheground. ItlickedFerguson’shand.</s>“Whatisit,Mr.Holmes?” “Thedog. What’sthematterwithit?” “That’swhatpuzzledthevet. Asortofparalysis.</s>Spinalmeningitis,hethought. Butitispassing. He’ll beallrightsoon—won’tyou,Carlo?” A shiver of assent passed through the drooping tail. Thedog’smournfuleyespassedfromoneofus to the other. He knew that we were discussing his case.</s>“Diditcomeonsuddenly?” “Inasinglenight.” “Howlongago?” “Itmayhavebeenfourmonthsago.” “Veryremarkable. Verysuggestive.” “Whatdoyouseeinit,Mr.Holmes?” “AconfirmationofwhatIhadalreadythought.” “ForGod’ssake,whatdoyouthink,Mr.Holmes? It may be a mere intellectual puzzle to you, but it is life and death to me! My wife a would-be mur- derer—mychildinconstantdanger! Don’tplaywith me,Mr.Holmes. Itistooterriblyserious.” The big Rugby three-quarter was trembling all over. Holmesputhishandsoothinglyuponhisarm.</s>“I fear that there is pain for you, Mr. Ferguson, whatever the solution may be,” said he. “I would spare you all I can. I cannot say more for the in- stant,butbeforeIleavethishouseIhopeImayhave somethingdefinite.” “PleaseGodyoumay! Ifyouwillexcuseme,gen- tlemen,Iwillgouptomywife’sroomandseeifthere hasbeenanychange.” Hewasawaysomeminutes,duringwhichHolmes resumedhisexaminationofthecuriositiesuponthe wall. When our host returned it was clear from his downcast face that he had made no progress. He broughtwithhimatall,slim,brown-facedgirl.</s>“The tea is ready, Dolores,” said Ferguson. “See thatyourmistresshaseverythingshecanwish.” “Sheverraill,”criedthegirl,lookingwithindig- nant eyes at her master. “She no ask for food. She verraill. Sheneeddoctor. Ifrightenedstayalonewith herwithoutdoctor.” Fergusonlookedatmewithaquestioninhiseyes.</s>“IshouldbesogladifIcouldbeofuse.” “WouldyourmistressseeDr.Watson?” “Itakehim. Inoaskleave. Sheneedsdoctor.” “ThenI’llcomewithyouatonce.” Ifollowedthegirl,whowasquiveringwithstrong emotion, up the staircase and down an ancient cor- ridor. At the end was an iron-clamped and massive door. It struck me as I looked at it that if Ferguson triedtoforcehiswaytohiswifehewouldfinditno easymatter. Thegirldrewakeyfromherpocket,and theheavyoakenplankscreakedupontheiroldhinges.</s>I passed in and she swiftly followed, fastening the doorbehindher.</s>On the bed a woman was lying who was clearly in a high fever. She was only half conscious, but as I entered she raised a pair of frightened but beauti- fuleyesandglaredatmeinapprehension. Seeinga stranger,sheappearedtoberelievedandsankback withasighuponthepillow. Isteppeduptoherwith afewreassuringwords,andshelaystillwhileItook herpulseandtemperature. Bothwerehigh,andyet myimpressionwasthattheconditionwasratherthat ofmentalandnervousexcitementthanofanyactual seizure.</s>“She lie like that one day, two day. I ’fraid she die,”saidthegirl.</s>The woman turned her flushed and handsome facetowardsme.</s>“Whereismyhusband?” “Heisbelowandwouldwishtoseeyou.” “Iwillnotseehim. Iwillnotseehim.”Thenshe seemed to wander off into delirium. “A fiend! A fiend! Oh,whatshallIdowiththisdevil?” “CanIhelpyouinanyway?” “No. No one can help. It is finished. All is de- stroyed. DowhatIwill,allisdestroyed.” The woman must have some strange delusion. I couldnotseehonestBobFergusoninthecharacterof fiendordevil.</s>“Madame,”Isaid,“yourhusbandlovesyoudearly.</s>Heisdeeplygrievedatthishappening.” Againsheturnedonmethosegloriouseyes.</s>“Helovesme. Yes. ButdoInotlovehim? DoInot lovehimeventosacrificemyselfratherthanbreakhisdearheart? ThatishowIlovehim. Andyethecould thinkofme—hecouldspeakofmeso.” “Heisfullofgrief,buthecannotunderstand.” “No,hecannotunderstand. Butheshouldtrust.” “Willyounotseehim?”Isuggested.</s>“No,no,Icannotforgetthoseterriblewordsnor the look upon his face. I will not see him. Go now.</s>Youcandonothingforme. Tellhimonlyonething. I wantmychild. Ihavearighttomychild. Thatisthe onlymessageIcansendhim.”Sheturnedherfaceto thewallandwouldsaynomore.</s>Ireturnedtotheroomdownstairs,whereFergu- sonandHolmesstillsatbythefire. Fergusonlistened moodilytomyaccountoftheinterview.</s>“How can I send her the child?” he said. “How do I know what strange impulse might come upon her? HowcanIeverforgethowsherosefrombeside itwithitsblooduponherlips?”Heshudderedatthe recollection. “ThechildissafewithMrs.Mason,and therehemustremain.” A smart maid, the only modern thing which we hadseeninthehouse,hadbroughtinsometea. As she was serving it the door opened and a youth en- teredtheroom. Hewasaremarkablelad,pale-faced andfair-haired,withexcitablelightblueeyeswhich blazedintoasuddenflameofemotionandjoyasthey resteduponhisfather. Herushedforwardandthrew hisarmsroundhisneckwiththeabandonofaloving girl.</s>“Oh, daddy,”hecried, “Ididnotknowthatyou were due yet. I should have been here to meet you.</s>Oh,Iamsogladtoseeyou!” Fergusongentlydisengagedhimselffromtheem- bracewithsomelittleshowofembarrassment.</s>“Dearoldchap,”saidhe,pattingtheflaxenhead with a very tender hand. “I came early because my friends,Mr.HolmesandDr.Watson,havebeenper- suaded to come down and spend an evening with us.” “IsthatMr.Holmes,thedetective?” “Yes.” The youth looked at us with a very penetrating and,asitseemedtome,unfriendlygaze.</s>“What about your other child, Mr. Ferguson?” asked Holmes. “Might we make the acquaintance ofthebaby?” “AskMrs.Masontobringbabydown,”saidFer- guson. The boy went off with a curious, shambling gaitwhichtoldmysurgicaleyesthathewassuffering fromaweakspine. Presentlyhereturned,andbehind him came a tall, gaunt woman bearing in her arms a very beautiful child, dark-eyed, golden-haired, a wonderfulmixtureoftheSaxonandtheLatin. Fergu- sonwasevidentlydevotedtoit,forhetookitintohis armsandfondleditmosttenderly.</s>“Fancyanyonehavingthehearttohurthim,”he mutteredasheglanceddownatthesmall,angryred puckeruponthecherubthroat.</s>ItwasatthismomentthatIchancedtoglanceat Holmesandsawamostsingularintentnessinhisex- pression. Hisfacewasassetasifithadbeencarved outofoldivory,andhiseyes,whichhadglancedfor a moment at father and child, were now fixed with eager curiosity upon something at the other side of theroom. FollowinghisgazeIcouldonlyguessthat hewaslookingoutthroughthewindowatthemelan- choly, dripping garden. It is true that a shutter had halfclosedoutsideandobstructedtheview,butnone the less it was certainly at the window that Holmes wasfixinghisconcentratedattention. Thenhesmiled, and his eyes came back to the baby. On its chubby neck there was this small puckered mark. Without speaking,Holmesexamineditwithcare. Finallyhe shookoneofthedimpledfistswhichwavedinfront ofhim.</s>“Good-bye, little man. You have made a strange startinlife. Nurse,Ishouldwishtohaveawordwith youinprivate.” He took her aside and spoke earnestly for a few minutes. I only heard the last words, which were: “Your anxiety will soon, I hope, be set at rest.” The woman,whoseemedtobeasour,silentkindofcrea- ture,withdrewwiththechild.</s>“WhatisMrs.Masonlike?”askedHolmes.</s>“Notveryprepossessingexternally,asyoucansee, butaheartofgold,anddevotedtothechild.” “Doyoulikeher,Jack?”Holmesturnedsuddenly upontheboy. Hisexpressivemobilefaceshadowed over,andheshookhishead.</s>“Jacky has very strong likes and dislikes,” said Ferguson,puttinghisarmroundtheboy. “LuckilyI amoneofhislikes.” Theboycooedandnestledhisheaduponhisfa- ther’sbreast. Fergusongentlydisengagedhim.</s>“Runaway,littleJacky,”saidhe,andhewatched hissonwithlovingeyesuntilhedisappeared. “Now, Mr.Holmes,”hecontinuedwhentheboywasgone, “I really feel that I have brought you on a fool’s er- rand,forwhatcanyoupossiblydosavegivemeyour sympathy? It must be an exceedingly delicate and complexaffairfromyourpointofview.”“It is certainly delicate,” said my friend with an amusedsmile,“butIhavenotbeenstruckuptonow withitscomplexity. Ithasbeenacaseforintellectual deduction,butwhenthisoriginalintellectualdeduc- tionisconfirmedpointbypointbyquiteanumberof independent incidents, then the subjective becomes objective and we can say confidently that we have reached our goal. I had, in fact, reached it before we left Baker Street, and the rest has merely been observationandconfirmation.” Ferguson put his big hand to his furrowed fore- head.</s>“Forheaven’ssake,Holmes,”hesaidhoarsely;“if youcanseethetruthinthismatter,donotkeepme insuspense. HowdoIstand? WhatshallIdo? Icare nothingastohowyouhavefoundyourfactssolong asyouhavereallygotthem.” “CertainlyIoweyouanexplanation,andyoushall haveit. Butyouwillpermitmetohandlethematter in my own way? Is the lady capable of seeing us, Watson?” “Sheisill,butsheisquiterational.” “Verygood. Itisonlyinherpresencethatwecan clearthematterup. Letusgouptoher.” “Shewillnotseeme,”criedFerguson.</s>“Oh,yes,shewill,”saidHolmes. Hescribbleda few lines upon a sheet of paper. “You at least have the entree, Watson. Will you have the goodness to givetheladythisnote?” IascendedagainandhandedthenotetoDolores, who cautiously opened the door. A minute later I heardacryfromwithin,acryinwhichjoyandsur- priseseemedtobeblended. Doloreslookedout.</s>“Shewillseethem. Shewillleesten,”saidshe.</s>AtmysummonsFergusonandHolmescameup.</s>AsweenteredtheroomFergusontookasteportwo towardshiswife,whohadraisedherselfinthebed, but she held out her hand to repulse him. He sank intoanarmchair,whileHolmesseatedhimselfbeside him,afterbowingtothelady,wholookedathimwith wide-eyedamazement.</s>“I think we can dispense with Dolores,” said Holmes. “Oh,verywell,madame,ifyouwouldrather shestayedIcanseenoobjection. Now,Mr.Ferguson, Iamabusymanwithmanycalls, andmymethods have to be short and direct. The swiftest surgery is theleastpainful. Letmefirstsaywhatwilleaseyour mind. Yourwifeisaverygood,averyloving,anda veryill-usedwoman.” Fergusonsatupwithacryofjoy.</s>“Prove that, Mr. Holmes, and I am your debtor forever.” “I will do so, but in doing so I must wound you deeplyinanotherdirection.” “Icarenothingsolongasyouclearmywife. Ev- erythingonearthisinsignificantcomparedtothat.” “Letmetellyou,then,thetrainofreasoningwhich passed through my mind in Baker Street. The idea of a vampire was to me absurd. Such things do not happenincriminalpracticeinEngland. Andyetyour observationwasprecise. Youhadseentheladyrise from beside the child’s cot with the blood upon her lips.” “Idid.” “Did it not occur to you that a bleeding wound maybesuckedforsomeotherpurposethantodraw thebloodfromit? WastherenotaqueeninEnglish history who sucked such a wound to draw poison fromit?” “Poison!” “A South American household. My instinct felt thepresenceofthoseweaponsuponthewallbefore my eyes ever saw them. It might have been other poison, but that was what occurred to me. When I sawthatlittleemptyquiverbesidethesmallbird-bow, it was just what I expected to see. If the child were prickedwithoneofthosearrowsdippedincurareor someotherdevilishdrug,itwouldmeandeathifthe venomwerenotsuckedout.</s>“And the dog! If one were to use such a poison, wouldonenottryitfirstinordertoseethatithadnot lostitspower? Ididnotforeseethedog,butatleastI understandhimandhefittedintomyreconstruction.</s>“Nowdoyouunderstand? Yourwifefearedsuch anattack. Shesawitmadeandsavedthechild’slife, andyetsheshrankfromtellingyouallthetruth,for she knew how you loved the boy and feared lest it breakyourheart.” “Jacky!” “Iwatchedhimasyoufondledthechildjustnow.</s>Hisfacewasclearlyreflectedintheglassofthewin- dowwheretheshutterformedabackground. Isaw such jealousy, such cruel hatred, as I have seldom seeninahumanface.” “MyJacky!” “Youhavetofaceit,Mr.Ferguson. Itisthemore painful because it is a distorted love, a maniacal ex- aggerated love for you, and possibly for his dead mother, which has prompted his action. His very soulisconsumedwithhatredforthissplendidchild,whose health and beauty are a contrast to his own weakness.” “GoodGod! Itisincredible!” “HaveIspokenthetruth,madame?” Theladywassobbing,withherfaceburiedinthe pillows. Nowsheturnedtoherhusband.</s>“How could I tell you, Bob? I felt the blow it wouldbetoyou. ItwasbetterthatIshouldwaitand thatitshouldcomefromsomeotherlipsthanmine.</s>Whenthisgentleman,whoseemstohavepowersof magic,wrotethatheknewall,Iwasglad.” “I think a year at sea would be my prescription forMasterJacky,”saidHolmes,risingfromhischair.</s>“Only one thing is still clouded, madame. We can quite understand your attacks upon Master Jacky.</s>There is a limit to a mother’s patience. But how didyoudaretoleavethechildtheselasttwodays?” “IhadtoldMrs.Mason. Sheknew.” “Exactly. SoIimagined.” Ferguson was standing by the bed, choking, his handsoutstretchedandquivering.</s>“This, I fancy, is the time for our exit, Watson,” saidHolmesinawhisper. “Ifyouwilltakeoneelbow ofthetoofaithfulDolores,Iwilltaketheother. There, now,” he added as he closed the door behind him, “I think we may leave them to settle the rest among themselves.” Ihaveonlyonefurthernoteofthiscase. Itisthe letterwhichHolmeswroteinfinalanswertothatwith whichthenarrativebegins. Itranthus: BakerStreet, Nov.21st.</s>ReVampires Sir: Referring to your letter of the 19th, I begtostatethatIhavelookedintothein- quiryofyourclient,Mr.RobertFerguson, of Ferguson and Muirhead, tea brokers, ofMincingLane,andthatthematterhas beenbroughttoasatisfactoryconclusion.</s>With thanks for your recommendation, I am,sir, —Faithfullyyours, SherlockHolmes.t may have been a comedy, or it may have beenatragedy. Itcostonemanhisreason, it cost me a blood-letting, and it cost yet I another man the penalties of the law. Yet therewascertainlyanelementofcomedy. Well,you shalljudgeforyourselves.</s>I remember the date very well, for it was in the same month that Holmes refused a knighthood for serviceswhichmayperhapssomedaybedescribed.</s>I only refer to the matter in passing, for in my po- sition of partner and confidant I am obliged to be particularlycarefultoavoidanyindiscretion. Irepeat, however, that this enables me to fix the date, which wasthelatterendofJune,1902,shortlyafterthecon- clusionoftheSouthAfricanWar. Holmeshadspent severaldaysinbed,aswashishabitfromtimetotime, but he emerged that morning with a long foolscap documentinhishandandatwinkleofamusementin hisausteregrayeyes.</s>“Thereisachanceforyoutomakesomemoney, friend Watson,” said he. “Have you ever heard the nameofGarrideb?” IadmittedthatIhadnot.</s>“Well,ifyoucanlayyourhanduponaGarrideb, there’smoneyinit.” “Why?” “Ah,that’salongstory—ratherawhimsicalone, too. I don’t think in all our explorations of human complexitieswehaveevercomeuponanythingmore singular. Thefellowwillbeherepresentlyforcross- examination, so I won’t open the matter up till he comes. But,meanwhile,that’sthenamewewant.” The telephone directory lay on the table beside me,andIturnedoverthepagesinaratherhopeless quest. But to my amazement there was this strange nameinitsdueplace. Igaveacryoftriumph.</s>“Hereyouare,Holmes! Hereitis!” Holmestookthebookfrommyhand.</s>“‘Garrideb, N.,’ ” he read, “‘136 Little Ryder Street, W.’ Sorry to disappoint you, my dear Wat- son,butthisisthemanhimself. Thatistheaddress uponhisletter. Wewantanothertomatchhim.” Mrs.Hudsonhadcomeinwithacarduponatray.</s>Itookitupandglancedatit.</s>“Why, here it is!” I cried in amazement. “This is adifferentinitial. JohnGarrideb,CounselloratLaw, Moorville,Kansas,U.S.A.” Holmes smiled as he looked at the card. “I am afraid you must make yet another effort, Watson,” said he. “This gentleman is also in the plot already, thoughIcertainlydidnotexpecttoseehimthismorn- ing. However,heisinapositiontotellusagooddeal whichIwanttoknow.” Amomentlaterhewasintheroom. Mr.JohnGar- rideb,CounselloratLaw,wasashort,powerfulman withtheround,fresh,clean-shavenfacecharacteristic of so many American men of affairs. The general effect was chubby and rather childlike, so that one received the impression of quite a young man with a broad set smile upon his face. His eyes, however, were arresting. Seldom in any human head have I seenapairwhichbespokeamoreintenseinwardlife, so bright were they, so alert, so responsive to every changeofthought. HisaccentwasAmerican,butwas notaccompaniedbyanyeccentricityofspeech.</s>“Mr.Holmes?”heasked,glancingfromonetothe other. “Ah,yes! Yourpicturesarenotunlikeyou,sir, if I may say so. I believe you have had a letter from mynamesake,Mr.NathanGarrideb,haveyounot?” “Praysitdown,”saidSherlockHolmes. “Weshall, Ifancy,haveagooddealtodiscuss.”Hetookuphis sheetsoffoolscap. “Youare,ofcourse,theMr.John Garridebmentionedinthisdocument. Butsurelyyou havebeeninEnglandsometime?” “Whydoyousaythat,Mr.Holmes?”Iseemedto readsuddensuspicioninthoseexpressiveeyes.</s>“YourwholeoutfitisEnglish.” Mr. Garrideb forced a laugh. “I’ve read of your tricks, Mr. Holmes, but I never thought I would be thesubjectofthem. Wheredoyoureadthat?” “The shoulder cut of your coat, the toes of your boots—couldanyonedoubtit?” “Well, well, I had no idea I was so obvious a Britisher. But business brought me over here some time ago, and so, as you say, my outfit is nearly all London. However,Iguessyourtimeisofvalue,and we did not meet to talk about the cut of my socks.</s>What about getting down to that paper you hold in yourhand?” Holmes had in some way ruffled our visitor, whose chubby face had assumed a far less amiable expression.</s>“Patience! Patience,Mr.Garrideb!”saidmyfriend inasoothingvoice. “Dr.Watsonwouldtellyouthat these little digressions of mine sometimes prove in theendtohavesomebearingonthematter. Butwhy didMr.NathanGarridebnotcomewithyou?” “Whydidheeverdragyouintoitatall?”asked ourvisitorwithasuddenoutflameofanger. “What inthunderhadyoutodowithit? Herewasabitof professional business between two gentlemen, andoneofthemmustneedscallinadetective! Isawhim this morning, and he told me this fool-trick he had played me, andthat’swhyIamhere. ButIfeelbad aboutit,allthesame.” “Therewasnoreflectionuponyou,Mr.Garrideb.</s>Itwassimplyzealuponhisparttogainyourend—an endwhichis,Iunderstand,equallyvitalforbothof you. He knew that I had means of getting informa- tion,and,therefore,itwasverynaturalthatheshould applytome.” Ourvisitor’sangryfacegraduallycleared.</s>“Well, that puts it different,” said he. “When I wenttoseehimthismorningandhetoldmehehad senttoadetective,Ijustaskedforyouraddressand came right away. I don’t want police butting into a privatematter. Butifyouarecontentjusttohelpus findtheman,therecanbenoharminthat.” “Well, that is just how it stands,” said Holmes.</s>“And now, sir, since you are here, we had best have a clear account from your own lips. My friend here knowsnothingofthedetails.” Mr.Garridebsurveyedmewithnottoofriendlya gaze.</s>“Needheknow?”heasked.</s>“Weusuallyworktogether.” “Well,there’snoreasonitshouldbekeptasecret.</s>I’llgiveyouthefactsasshortasIcanmakethem. If you came from Kansas I would not need to explain to you who Alexander Hamilton Garrideb was. He madehismoneyinrealestate,andafterwardsinthe wheat pit at Chicago, but he spent it in buying up as much land as would make one of your counties, lying along the Arkansas River, west of Fort Dodge.</s>It’s grazing-land and lumber-land and arable-land andmineralized-land,andjusteverysortoflandthat bringsdollarstothemanthatownsit.</s>“He had no kith nor kin—or, if he had, I never heardofit. Buthetookakindofprideinthequeer- nessofhisname. Thatwaswhatbroughtustogether.</s>IwasinthelawatTopeka,andonedayIhadavisit fromtheoldman,andhewastickledtodeathtomeet anothermanwithhisownname. Itwashispetfad, and he was dead set to find out if there were any moreGarridebsintheworld. ‘Findmeanother!’ said he. ItoldhimIwasabusymanandcouldnotspend mylifehikingroundtheworldinsearchofGarridebs.</s>‘Nonetheless,’saidhe,‘thatisjustwhatyouwilldo ifthingspanoutasIplannedthem.’ Ithoughthewas joking,buttherewasapowerfullotofmeaninginthe words,asIwassoontodiscover.</s>“Forhediedwithinayearofsayingthem,andhe leftawillbehindhim. Itwasthequeerestwillthathas ever been filed in the State of Kansas. His property was divided into three parts, and I was to have one onconditionthatIfoundtwoGarridebswhowould sharetheremainder. It’sfivemilliondollarsforeach ifitisacent,butwecan’tlayafingeronituntilwe allthreestandinarow.</s>“ItwassobigachancethatIjustletmylegalprac- ticeslideandIsetforthlookingforGarridebs. There isnotoneintheUnitedStates. Iwentthroughit,sir, withafine-toothedcombandneveraGarridebcould I catch. Then I tried the old country. Sure enough there was the name in the London telephone direc- tory. I went after him two days ago and explained the whole matter to him. But he is a lone man, like myself, with some women relations, but no men. It says three adult men in the will. So you see we still have a vacancy, and if you can help to fill it we will beveryreadytopayyourcharges.” “Well,Watson,”saidHolmeswithasmile,“Isaid it was rather whimsical, did I not? I should have thought,sir,thatyourobviouswaywastoadvertise intheagonycolumnsofthepapers.” “Ihavedonethat,Mr.Holmes. Noreplies.” “Dear me! Well, it is certainly a most curious lit- tle problem. I may take a glance at it in my leisure.</s>By the way, it is curious that you should have come fromTopeka. Iusedtohaveacorrespondent—heis dead now—old Dr. Lysander Starr, who was mayor in1890.” “GoodoldDr.Starr!”saidourvisitor. “Hisname is still honoured. Well, Mr. Holmes, I suppose all wecandoistoreporttoyouandletyouknowhow we progress. I reckon you will hear within a day or two.”WiththisassuranceourAmericanbowedand departed.</s>Holmeshadlithispipe,andhesatforsometime withacurioussmileuponhisface.</s>“Well?”Iaskedatlast.</s>“Iamwondering,Watson—justwondering!” “Atwhat?” Holmestookhispipefromhislips.</s>“Iwaswondering,Watson,whatonearthcouldbe theobjectofthismanintellingussucharigmaroleof lies. Inearlyaskedhimso—fortherearetimeswhen abrutalfrontalattackisthebestpolicy—butIjudged it better to let him think he had fooled us. Here is amanwithanEnglishcoatfrayedattheelbowand trousersbaggedatthekneewithayear’swear,and yetbythisdocumentandbyhisownaccountheisa provincialAmericanlatelylandedinLondon. Therehave been no advertisements in the agony columns.</s>You know that I miss nothing there. They are my favourite covert for putting up a bird, and I would neverhaveoverlookedsuchacockpheasantasthat.</s>IneverknewaDr.LysanderStarr,ofTopeka. Touch himwhereyouwouldhewasfalse. Ithinkthefellow is really an American, but he has worn his accent smoothwithyearsofLondon. Whatishisgame,then, andwhatmotiveliesbehindthispreposteroussearch forGarridebs? It’sworthourattention,for,granting that the man is a rascal, he is certainly a complex and ingenious one. We must now find out if our othercorrespondentisafraudalso. Justringhimup, Watson.” Ididso,andheardathin,quaveringvoiceatthe otherendoftheline.</s>“Yes, yes, I am Mr. Nathan Garrideb. Is Mr.</s>Holmes there? I should very much like to have a wordwithMr.Holmes.” My friend took the instrument and I heard the usualsyncopateddialogue.</s>“Yes, he has been here. I understand that you don’t know him. ... How long? ... Only two days! ... Yes, yes, of course, it is a most captivat- ing prospect. Will you be at home this evening? I suppose your namesake will not be there? ... Very good, we will come then, for I would rather have a chatwithouthim. ... Dr.Watsonwillcomewithme.</s>... Iunderstandfromyournotethatyoudidnotgo outoften. ... Well,weshallberoundaboutsix. You neednotmentionittotheAmericanlawyer. ... Very good. Good-bye!” Itwastwilightofalovelyspringevening,andeven LittleRyderStreet,oneofthesmalleroffshootsfrom theEdgwareRoad,withinastone-castofoldTyburn Tree of evil memory, looked golden and wonderful intheslantingraysofthesettingsun. Theparticular house to which we were directed was a large, old- fashioned, Early Georgian edifice, with a flat brick face broken only by two deep bay windows on the ground floor. It was on this ground floor that our clientlived,and,indeed,thelowwindowsprovedto bethefrontofthehugeroominwhichhespenthis waking hours. Holmes pointed as we passed to the smallbrassplatewhichborethecuriousname.</s>“Upsomeyears,Watson,”heremarked,indicating its discoloured surface. “It’s his real name, anyhow, andthatissomethingtonote.” Thehousehadacommonstair,andtherewerea number of names painted in the hall, some indicat- ing offices and some private chambers. It was not a collectionofresidentialflats,butrathertheabodeof Bohemianbachelors. Ourclientopenedthedoorfor ushimselfandapologizedbysayingthatthewoman in charge left at four o’clock. Mr. Nathan Garrideb provedtobeaverytall,loose-jointed,round-backed person,gauntandbald,somesixty-oddyearsofage.</s>He had a cadaverous face, with the dull dead skin of a man to whom exercise was unknown. Large roundspectaclesandasmallprojectinggoat’sbeard combined with his stooping attitude to give him an expression of peering curiosity. The general effect, however,wasamiable,thougheccentric.</s>Theroomwasascuriousasitsoccupant. Itlooked like a small museum. It was both broad and deep, withcupboardsandcabinetsallround,crowdedwith specimens,geologicalandanatomical. Casesofbut- terfliesandmothsflankedeachsideoftheentrance.</s>Alargetableinthecentrewaslitteredwithallsorts ofdebris,whilethetallbrasstubeofapowerfulmi- croscopebristledupamongthem. AsIglancedround Iwassurprisedattheuniversalityoftheman’sinter- ests. Here was a case of ancient coins. There was a cabinetofflintinstruments. Behindhiscentraltable wasalargecupboardoffossilbones. Abovewasaline ofplasterskullswithsuchnamesas“Neanderthal,” “Heidelberg,”“Cro-Magnon”printedbeneaththem.</s>It was clear that he was a student of many subjects.</s>As he stood in front of us now, he held a piece of chamoisleatherinhisrighthandwithwhichhewas polishingacoin.</s>“Syracusan—of the best period,” he explained, holdingitup. “Theydegeneratedgreatlytowardsthe end. AttheirbestIholdthemsupreme,thoughsome prefertheAlexandrianschool. Youwillfindachair here,Mr.Holmes. Prayallowmetoclearthesebones.</s>Andyou,sir—ah,yes,Dr.Watson—ifyouwouldhave the goodness to put the Japanese vase to one side.</s>Youseeroundmemylittleinterestsinlife. Mydoctor lecturesmeaboutnevergoingout,butwhyshouldI gooutwhenIhavesomuchtoholdmehere? Ican assure you that the adequate cataloguing of one of thosecabinetswouldtakemethreegoodmonths.” Holmeslookedroundhimwithcuriosity.</s>“But do you tell me that you never go out?” he said.</s>“Now and again I drive down to Sotheby’s or Christie’s. Otherwise I very seldom leave my room.</s>I am not too strong, and my researches are very ab- sorbing. But you can imagine, Mr. Holmes, what a terrific shock—pleasant but terrific—it was for me when I heard of this unparalleled good fortune. ItonlyneedsonemoreGarridebtocompletethematter, andsurelywecanfindone. Ihadabrother,butheis dead,andfemalerelativesaredisqualified. Butthere mustsurelybeothersintheworld. Ihadheardthat youhandledstrangecases, andthatwaswhyIsent toyou. Ofcourse,thisAmericangentlemanisquite right, and I should have taken his advice first, but I actedforthebest.” “I think you acted very wisely indeed,” said Holmes. “But are you really anxious to acquire an estateinAmerica?” “Certainlynot,sir. Nothingwouldinducemeto leavemycollection. Butthisgentlemanhasassured methathewillbuymeoutassoonaswehaveestab- lished our claim. Five million dollars was the sum named. Thereareadozenspecimensinthemarketat thepresentmomentwhichfillgapsinmycollection, andwhichIamunabletopurchaseforwantofafew hundredpounds. JustthinkwhatIcoulddowithfive milliondollars. Why,Ihavethenucleusofanational collection. IshallbetheHansSloaneofmyage.” His eyes gleamed behind his great spectacles. It wasveryclearthatnopainswouldbesparedbyMr.</s>NathanGarridebinfindinganamesake.</s>“Imerelycalledtomakeyouracquaintance,and thereisnoreasonwhyIshouldinterruptyourstud- ies,” said Holmes. “I prefer to establish personal touchwiththosewithwhomIdobusiness. Thereare few questions I need ask, for I have your very clear narrative in my pocket, and I filled up the blanks whenthisAmericangentlemancalled. Iunderstand that up to this week you were unaware of his exis- tence.” “Thatisso. HecalledlastTuesday.” “Didhetellyouofourinterviewto-day?” “Yes, he came straight back to me. He had been veryangry.” “Whyshouldhebeangry?” “Heseemedtothinkitwassomereflectiononhis honour. But he was quite cheerful again when he returned.” “Didhesuggestanycourseofaction?” “No,sir,hedidnot.” “Hashehad,oraskedfor,anymoneyfromyou?” “No,sir,never!” “Youseenopossibleobjecthehasinview?” “None,exceptwhathestates.” “Didyoutellhimofourtelephoneappointment?” “Yes,sir,Idid.” Holmes was lost in thought. I could see that he waspuzzled.</s>“Haveyouanyarticlesofgreatvalueinyourcol- lection?” “No, sir. Iamnotarichman. Itisagood collec- tion,butnotaveryvaluableone.” “Youhavenofearofburglars?” “Nottheleast.” “Howlonghaveyoubeenintheserooms?” “Nearlyfiveyears.” Holmes’scross-examinationwasinterruptedbyan imperativeknockingatthedoor. Nosoonerhadour client unlatched it than the American lawyer burst excitedlyintotheroom.</s>“Hereyouare!”hecried,wavingapaperoverhis head. “I thought I should be in time to get you. Mr.</s>NathanGarrideb,mycongratulations! Youarearich man, sir. Ourbusinessishappilyfinishedandallis well. Astoyou,Mr.Holmes,wecanonlysayweare sorryifwehavegivenyouanyuselesstrouble.” Hehandedoverthepapertoourclient,whostood staring at a marked advertisement. Holmes and I leanedforwardandreaditoverhisshoulder. Thisis howitran: HowardGarrideb ConstructorofAgriculturalMachinery Binders,reapers,steamandhandplows,drills, harrows,farmers’carts,buckboards,andallother appliances.</s>EstimatesforArtesianWells ApplyGrosvenorBuildings,Aston “Glorious!”gaspedourhost. “Thatmakesourthird man.” “IhadopenedupinquiriesinBirmingham,”said theAmerican,“andmyagenttherehassentmethis advertisementfromalocalpaper. Wemusthustleand putthethingthrough. Ihavewrittentothismanand toldhimthatyouwillseehiminhisofficeto-morrow afternoonatfouro’clock.” “Youwantmetoseehim?” “Whatdoyousay,Mr.Holmes? Don’tyouthink itwouldbewiser? HereamI,awanderingAmerican withawonderfultale. WhyshouldhebelievewhatI tellhim? ButyouareaBritisherwithsolidreferences, and he is bound to take notice of what you say. I would go with you if you wished, but I have a very busydayto-morrow,andIcouldalwaysfollowyouif youareinanytrouble.” “Well,Ihavenotmadesuchajourneyforyears.”“It is nothing, Mr. Garrideb. I have figured out our connections. You leave at twelve and should be theresoonaftertwo. Thenyoucanbebackthesame night. Allyouhavetodoistoseethisman,explain the matter, and get an affidavit of his existence. By theLord!”headdedhotly,“consideringI’vecomeall thewayfromthecentreofAmerica,itissurelylittle enoughifyougoahundredmilesinordertoputthis matterthrough.” “Quite so,” said Holmes. “I think what this gen- tlemansaysisverytrue.” Mr.NathanGarridebshruggedhisshoulderswith adisconsolateair. “Well,ifyouinsistIshallgo,”said he. “Itiscertainlyhardformetorefuseyouanything, consideringthegloryofhopethatyouhavebrought intomylife.” “Thenthatisagreed,”saidHolmes,“andnodoubt youwillletmehaveareportassoonasyoucan.” “I’ll see to that,” said the American. “Well,” he added,lookingathiswatch,“I’llhavetogeton. I’ll callto-morrow,Mr.Nathan,andseeyouofftoBirm- ingham. Coming my way, Mr. Holmes? Well, then, good-bye, and we may have good news for you to- morrownight.” I noticed that my friend’s face cleared when the American left the room, and the look of thoughtful perplexityhadvanished.</s>“IwishIcouldlookoveryourcollection,Mr.Gar- rideb,” said he. “In my profession all sorts of odd knowledgecomesuseful,andthisroomofyoursisa storehouseofit.” Our client shone with pleasure and his eyes gleamedfrombehindhisbigglasses.</s>“Ihadalwaysheard,sir,thatyouwereaveryin- telligentman,”saidhe. “Icouldtakeyouroundnow ifyouhavethetime.” “Unfortunately, I have not. But these specimens are so well labelled and classified that they hardly needyourpersonalexplanation. IfIshouldbeableto lookinto-morrow,Ipresumethattherewouldbeno objectiontomyglancingoverthem?” “None at all. You are most welcome. The place will, of course, be shut up, but Mrs. Saunders is in thebasementuptofouro’clockandwouldletyouin withherkey.” Well,Ihappentobeclearto-morrowafternoon. If youwouldsayawordtoMrs.Saundersitwouldbe quiteinorder. Bytheway,whoisyourhouse-agent?” Ourclientwasamazedatthesuddenquestion.</s>“HollowayandSteele,intheEdgwareRoad. But why?” “I am a bit of an archaeologist myself when it comes to houses,” said Holmes, laughing. “I was wonderingifthiswasQueenAnneorGeorgian.” “Georgian,beyonddoubt.” “Really. Ishouldhavethoughtalittleearlier. How- ever,itiseasilyascertained. Well,good-bye,Mr.Gar- rideb,andmayyouhaveeverysuccessinyourBirm- inghamjourney.” Thehouse-agent’swascloseby,butwefoundthat itwasclosedfortheday,sowemadeourwaybackto BakerStreet. ItwasnottillafterdinnerthatHolmes revertedtothesubject.</s>“Our little problem draws to a close,” said he.</s>“No doubt you have outlined the solution in your ownmind.” “Icanmakeneitherheadnortailofit.” “Theheadissurelyclearenoughandthetailwe shouldseeto-morrow. Didyounoticenothingcurious aboutthatadvertisement?” “Isawthattheword‘plough’wasmisspelt.” “Oh,youdidnoticethat,didyou? Come,Watson, youimproveallthetime. Yes,itwasbadEnglishbut goodAmerican. Theprinterhadsetitupasreceived.</s>Then the buckboards. That is American also. And artesianwellsarecommonerwiththemthanwithus.</s>ItwasatypicalAmericanadvertisement,butpurport- ingtobefromanEnglishfirm. Whatdoyoumakeof that?” “IcanonlysupposethatthisAmericanlawyerput itinhimself. WhathisobjectwasIfailtounderstand.” “Well,therearealternativeexplanations. Anyhow, hewantedtogetthisgoodoldfossiluptoBirming- ham. That is very clear. I might have told him that hewasclearlygoingonawild-goosechase, but, on secondthoughts,itseemedbettertoclearthestageby lettinghimgo. To-morrow,Watson—well,to-morrow willspeakforitself.” Holmeswasupandoutearly. Whenhereturned atlunchtimeInoticedthathisfacewasverygrave.</s>“ThisisamoreseriousmatterthanIhadexpected, Watson,” said he. “It is fair to tell you so, though I knowitwillonlybeanadditionalreasontoyoufor running your head into danger. I should know my Watsonbynow. Butthereisdanger,andyoushould knowit.” “Well, it is not the first we have shared, Holmes.</s>I hope it may not be the last. What is the particular dangerthistime?”“Weareupagainstaveryhardcase. Ihaveidenti- fiedMr.JohnGarrideb,CounselloratLaw. Heisnone otherthan‘Killer’Evans,ofsinisterandmurderous reputation.” “IfearIamnonethewiser.” “Ah,itisnotpartofyourprofessiontocarryabout aportableNewgateCalendarinyourmemory. Ihave beendowntoseefriendLestradeattheYard. There may be an occasional want of imaginative intuition downthere,buttheyleadtheworldforthoroughness andmethod. Ihadanideathatwemightgetonthe track of our American friend in their records. Sure enough, I found his chubby face smiling up at me fromtherogues’portraitgallery. ‘JamesWinter,alias Morecroft,aliasKillerEvans,’wastheinscriptionbe- low.”Holmesdrewanenvelopefromhispocket. “I scribbleddownafewpointsfromhisdossier: Aged forty-four. Native of Chicago. Known to have shot three men in the States. Escaped from penitentiary throughpoliticalinfluence. CametoLondonin1893.</s>Shot a man over cards in a night-club in the Water- loo Road in January, 1895. Man died, but he was shown to have been the aggressor in the row. Dead man was identified as Rodger Prescott, famous as forger and coiner in Chicago. Killer Evans released in1901. Hasbeenunderpolicesupervisionsince,but sofarasknownhasledanhonestlife. Verydanger- ousman,usuallycarriesarmsandispreparedtouse them. That is our bird, Watson—a sporting bird, as youmustadmit.” “Butwhatishisgame?” “Well,itbeginstodefineitself. Ihavebeentothe house-agent’s. Ourclient,ashetoldus,hasbeenthere five years. It was unlet for a year before then. The previoustenantwasagentlemanatlargenamedWal- dron. Waldron’s appearance was well remembered at the office. He had suddenly vanished and noth- ingmorebeenheardofhim. Hewasatall,bearded man with very dark features. Now, Prescott, the man whom Killer Evans had shot, was, according to Scotland Yard, a tall, dark man with a beard. As a working hypothesis, I think we may take it that Prescott, the American criminal, used to live in the veryroomwhichourinnocentfriendnowdevotesto hismuseum. Soatlastwegetalink,yousee.” “Andthenextlink?” “Well,wemustgonowandlookforthat.” Hetookarevolverfromthedrawerandhandedit tome.</s>“I have my old favourite with me. If our Wild Westfriendtriestoliveuptohisnickname,wemust be ready for him. I’ll give you an hour for a siesta, Watson,andthenIthinkitwillbetimeforourRyder Streetadventure.” It was just four o’clock when we reached the cu- riousapartmentofNathanGarrideb. Mrs.Saunders, thecaretaker,wasabouttoleave,butshehadnohesi- tationinadmittingus,forthedoorshutwithaspring lock,andHolmespromisedtoseethatallwassafebe- foreweleft. Shortlyafterwardstheouterdoorclosed, her bonnet passed the bow window, and we knew that we were alone in the lower floor of the house.</s>Holmes made a rapid examination of the premises.</s>Therewasonecupboardinadarkcornerwhichstood out a little from the wall. It was behind this that we eventually crouched while Holmes in a whisper outlinedhisintentions.</s>“He wanted to get our amiable friend out of his room—that is very clear, and, as the collector never wentout,ittooksomeplanningtodoit. Thewholeof thisGarridebinventionwasapparentlyfornoother end. Imustsay,Watson,thatthereisacertaindevilish ingenuityaboutit,evenifthequeernameoftheten- antdidgivehimanopeningwhichhecouldhardly have expected. He wove his plot with remarkable cunning.” “Butwhatdidhewant?” “Well,thatiswhatweareheretofindout. Ithas nothingwhatevertodowithourclient,sofarasIcan readthesituation. Itissomethingconnectedwiththe manhemurdered—themanwhomayhavebeenhis confederate in crime. There is some guilty secret in the room. That is how I read it. At first I thought our friend might have something in his collection morevaluablethanheknew—somethingworththe attention of a big criminal. But the fact that Rodger Prescottofevilmemoryinhabitedtheseroomspoints to some deeper reason. Well, Watson, we can but possessoursoulsinpatienceandseewhatthehour maybring.” Thathourwasnotlonginstriking. Wecrouched closerintheshadowasweheardtheouterdooropen andshut. Thencamethesharp,metallicsnapofakey, and the American was in the room. He closed the doorsoftlybehindhim,tookasharpglancearound him to see that all was safe, threw off his overcoat, andwalkeduptothecentraltablewiththebriskman- nerofonewhoknowsexactlywhathehastodoand how to do it. He pushed the table to one side, tore up the square of carpet on which it rested, rolled it completely back, and then, drawing a jemmy from his inside pocket, he knelt down and worked vigor- ously upon the floor. Presently we heard the soundof sliding boards, and an instant later a square had openedintheplanks. KillerEvansstruckamatch,lit astumpofcandle,andvanishedfromourview.</s>Clearlyourmomenthadcome. Holmestouched mywristasasignal,andtogetherwestoleacrossto the open trap-door. Gently as we moved, however, the old floor must have creaked under our feet, for theheadofourAmerican,peeringanxiouslyround, emerged suddenly from the open space. His face turned upon us with a glare of baffled rage, which graduallysoftenedintoarathershamefacedgrinas herealizedthattwopistolswerepointedathishead.</s>“Well,well!”saidhecoollyashescrambledtothe surface. “Iguessyouhavebeenonetoomanyforme, Mr.Holmes. Sawthroughmygame,Isuppose,and playedmeforasuckerfromthefirst. Well,sir,Ihand ittoyou;youhavemebeatand—” Inaninstanthehadwhiskedoutarevolverfrom hisbreastandhadfiredtwoshots. Ifeltasuddenhot searasifared-hotironhadbeenpressedtomythigh.</s>TherewasacrashasHolmes’spistolcamedownon the man’s head. I had a vision of him sprawling upon the floor with blood running down his face while Holmes rummaged him for weapons. Then my friend’s wiry arms were round me, and he was leadingmetoachair.</s>“You’renothurt,Watson? ForGod’ssake,saythat youarenothurt!” It was worth a wound—it was worth many wounds—toknowthedepthofloyaltyandlovewhich laybehindthatcoldmask. Theclear,hardeyeswere dimmedforamoment,andthefirmlipswereshak- ing. FortheoneandonlytimeIcaughtaglimpseof agreatheartaswellasofagreatbrain. Allmyyears of humble but single-minded service culminated in thatmomentofrevelation.</s>“It’snothing,Holmes. It’samerescratch.” He had ripped up my trousers with his pocket- knife.</s>“Youareright,”hecriedwithanimmensesighof relief. “It is quite superficial.” His face set like flint asheglaredatourprisoner,whowassittingupwith a dazed face. “By the Lord, it is as well for you. If you had killed Watson, you would not have got out ofthisroomalive. Now,sir,whathaveyoutosayfor yourself?” He had nothing to say for himself. He only sat andscowled. IleanedonHolmes’sarm,andtogether welookeddownintothesmallcellarwhichhadbeen disclosed by the secret flap. It was still illuminated bythecandlewhichEvanshadtakendownwithhim.</s>Oureyesfelluponamassofrustedmachinery,great rollsofpaper,alitterofbottles,and,neatlyarranged uponasmalltable,anumberofneatlittlebundles.</s>“Aprintingpress—acounterfeiter’soutfit,”said Holmes.</s>“Yes,sir,”saidourprisoner,staggeringslowlyto his feet and then sinking into the chair. “The great- est counterfeiter London ever saw. That’s Prescott’s machine,andthosebundlesonthetablearetwothou- sandofPrescott’snotesworthahundredeachandfit topassanywhere. Helpyourselves,gentlemen. Call itadealandletmebeatit.” Holmeslaughed.</s>“We don’t do things like that, Mr. Evans. There isnobolt-holeforyouinthiscountry. Youshotthis manPrescott,didyounot?” “Yes,sir,andgotfiveyearsforit,thoughitwashe whopulledonme. Fiveyears—whenIshouldhave hadamedalthesizeofasoupplate. Nolivingman could tell a Prescott from a Bank of England, and if Ihadn’tputhimouthewouldhavefloodedLondon withthem. Iwastheonlyoneintheworldwhoknew wherehemadethem. CanyouwonderthatIwanted togettotheplace? AndcanyouwonderthatwhenI foundthiscrazyboobofabug-hunterwiththequeer namesquattingrightonthetopofit,andneverquit- ting his room, I had to do the best I could to shift him? Maybe I would have been wiser if I had put himaway. Itwouldhavebeeneasyenough,butI’ma soft-heartedguythatcan’tbeginshootingunlessthe othermanhasagunalso. Butsay,Mr.Holmes,what haveIdonewrong,anyhow? I’venotusedthisplant.</s>I’venothurtthisoldstiff. Wheredoyougetme?” “Onlyattemptedmurder,sofarasIcansee,”said Holmes. “But that’s not our job. They take that at the next stage. What we wanted at present was just yoursweetself. PleasegivetheYardacall,Watson. It won’tbeentirelyunexpected.” So those were the facts about Killer Evans and hisremarkableinventionofthethreeGarridebs. We heard later that our poor old friend never got over theshockofhisdissipateddreams. Whenhiscastle intheairfelldown,itburiedhimbeneaththeruins.</s>Hewaslastheardofatanursing-homeinBrixton. It was a glad day at the Yard when the Prescott outfit wasdiscovered,for,thoughtheyknewthatitexisted, theyhadneverbeenable,afterthedeathoftheman, to find out where it was. Evans had indeed done greatserviceandcausedseveralworthyC.I.D.men to sleep the sounder, for the counterfeiter stands ina class by himself as a public danger. They would willingly have subscribed to that soup-plate medal of which the criminal had spoken, but an unappre- ciative bench took a less favourable view, and the Killer returned to those shades from which he had justemerged.omewhereinthevaultsofthebankofCox andCo.,atCharingCross,thereisatravel- worn and battered tin dispatch-box with S my name, John H. Watson, M.D., Late In- dianArmy,painteduponthelid. Itiscrammedwith papers, nearly all of which are records of cases to illustrate the curious problems which Mr. Sherlock Holmeshadatvarioustimestoexamine. Some,and nottheleastinteresting,werecompletefailures,and assuchwillhardlybearnarrating,sincenofinalexpla- nationisforthcoming. Aproblemwithoutasolution mayinterestthestudent,butcanhardlyfailtoannoy the casual reader. Among these unfinished tales is thatofMr.JamesPhillimore,who,steppingbackinto his own house to get his umbrella, was never more seeninthisworld. Nolessremarkableisthatofthe cutter Alicia, which sailed one spring morning into a small patch of mist from where she never again emerged,norwasanythingfurthereverheardofher- selfandhercrew. Athirdcaseworthyofnoteisthat ofIsadoraPersano,thewell-knownjournalistanddu- ellist,whowasfoundstarkstaringmadwithamatch box in front of him which contained a remarkable worm said to be unknown to science. Apart from these unfathomed cases, there are some which in- volvethesecretsofprivatefamiliestoanextentwhich wouldmeanconsternationinmanyexaltedquarters ifitwerethoughtpossiblethattheymightfindtheir way into print. I need not say that such a breach of confidenceisunthinkable,andthattheserecordswill beseparatedanddestroyednowthatmyfriendhas timetoturnhisenergiestothematter. Thereremaina considerableresidueofcasesofgreaterorlessinterest whichImighthaveeditedbeforehadInotfearedto givethepublicasurfeitwhichmightreactuponthe reputationofthemanwhomaboveallothersIrevere.</s>InsomeIwasmyselfconcernedandcanspeakasan eye-witness,whileinothersIwaseithernotpresent orplayedsosmallapartthattheycouldonlybetold asbyathirdperson. Thefollowingnarrativeisdrawn frommyownexperience.</s>ItwasawildmorninginOctober,andIobserved asIwasdressinghowthelastremainingleaveswere being whirled from the solitary plane tree which graces the yard behind our house. I descended to breakfast prepared to find my companion in de- pressedspirits,for,likeallgreatartists,hewaseasily impressed by his surroundings. On the contrary, I foundthathehadnearlyfinishedhismeal,andthat his mood was particularly bright and joyous, with thatsomewhatsinistercheerfulnesswhichwaschar- acteristicofhislightermoments.</s>“Youhaveacase,Holmes?”Iremarked.</s>“Thefacultyofdeductioniscertainlycontagious, Watson,”heanswered. “Ithasenabledyoutoprobe mysecret. Yes,Ihaveacase. Afteramonthoftrivial- itiesandstagnationthewheelsmoveoncemore.” “MightIshareit?” “There is little to share, but we may discuss it whenyouhaveconsumedthetwohard-boiledeggs withwhichournewcookhasfavouredus. Theircon- ditionmaynotbeunconnectedwiththecopyofthe Family Herald which I observed yesterday upon the hall-table. Evensotrivialamatterascookinganegg demandsanattentionwhichisconsciousofthepas- sageoftimeandincompatiblewiththeloveromance inthatexcellentperiodical.” A quarter of an hour later the table had been cleared and we were face to face. He had drawn a letterfromhispocket.</s>“YouhaveheardofNeilGibson,theGoldKing?” hesaid.</s>“YoumeantheAmericanSenator?” “Well,hewasonceSenatorforsomeWesternstate, butisbetterknownasthegreatestgold-miningmag- nateintheworld.” “Yes, Iknow ofhim. Hehas surely livedin Eng- landforsometime. Hisnameisveryfamiliar.” “Yes, he bought a considerable estate in Hamp- shiresomefiveyearsago. Possiblyyouhavealready heardofthetragicendofhiswife?” “Of course. I remember it now. That is why the name is familiar. But I really know nothing of the details.” Holmeswavedhishandtowardssomepaperson achair. “Ihadnoideathatthecasewascomingmy way or I should have had my extracts ready,” said he. “Thefactisthattheproblem,thoughexceedingly sensational, appeared to present no difficulty. The interesting personality of the accused does not ob- scuretheclearnessoftheevidence. Thatwastheview taken by the coroner’s jury and also in the police- court proceedings. It is now referred to the Assizes atWinchester. Ifearitisathanklessbusiness. Ican discoverfacts,Watson,butIcannotchangethem. Un- lesssomeentirelynewandunexpectedonescometo lightIdonotseewhatmyclientcanhopefor.” “Yourclient?” “Ah, I forgot I had not told you. I am getting into your involved habit, Watson, of telling a story backward. Youhadbestreadthisfirst.” The letter which he handed to me, written in a bold,masterfulhand,ranasfollows:Claridge’sHotel October3rd.</s>DearMr.SherlockHolmes: I can’t see the best woman God ever made go to her death without doing all that is possible to save her. I can’t ex- plain things—I can’t even try to explain them, but I know beyond all doubt that Miss Dunbar is innocent. You know the facts—whodoesn’t? Ithasbeenthegossip of the country. And never a voice raised forher! It’sthedamnedinjusticeofitall that makes me crazy. That woman has a heartthatwouldn’tletherkillafly. Well, I’ll come at eleven to-morrow and see if youcangetsomerayoflightinthedark.</s>Maybe I have a clue and don’t know it.</s>Anyhow,allIknowandallIhaveandall Iamareforyouruseifonlyyoucansave her. If ever in your life you showed your powers,putthemnowintothiscase.</s>—Yoursfaithfully, J.NeilGibson.</s>“Thereyouhaveit,”saidSherlockHolmes,knock- ingouttheashesofhisafter-breakfastpipeandslowly refillingit. “ThatisthegentlemanIawait. Astothe story,youhavehardlytimetomasterallthesepapers, soImustgiveittoyouinanutshellifyouaretotake anintelligentinterestintheproceedings. Thismanis thegreatestfinancialpowerintheworld,andaman, asIunderstand,ofmostviolentandformidablechar- acter. He married a wife, the victim of this tragedy, ofwhomIknownothingsavethatshewaspasther prime, which was the more unfortunate as a very attractivegovernesssuperintendedtheeducationof twoyoungchildren. Thesearethethreepeoplecon- cerned, and the scene is a grand old manor house, thecentreofahistoricalEnglishstate. Thenastothe tragedy. The wife was found in the grounds nearly half a mile from the house, late at night, clad in her dinnerdress,withashawloverhershouldersanda revolver bullet through her brain. No weapon was foundnearherandtherewasnolocalclueastothe murder. No weapon near her, Watson—mark that! Thecrimeseemstohavebeencommittedlateinthe evening,andthebodywasfoundbyagame-keeper about eleven o’clock, when it was examined by the policeandbyadoctorbeforebeingcarrieduptothe house. Is this too condensed, or can you follow it clearly?” “It is all very clear. But why suspect the gov- erness?” “Well, in the first place there is some very di- rect evidence. A revolver with one discharged chamber and a calibre which corresponded with the bullet was found on the floor of her wardrobe.” His eyes fixed and he repeated in broken words, “On—the—floor—of—her—wardrobe.”Thenhesank intosilence,andIsawthatsometrainofthoughthad been set moving which I should be foolish to inter- rupt. Suddenlywithastartheemergedintobrisklife oncemore. “Yes,Watson,itwasfound. Prettydamn- ing, eh? So the two juries thought. Then the dead womanhadanoteuponhermakinganappointment atthatveryplaceandsignedbythegoverness. How’s that? Finally there is the motive. Senator Gibson is anattractiveperson. Ifhiswifedies,whomorelikely tosucceedherthantheyoungladywhohadalready byallaccountsreceivedpressingattentionsfromher employer? Love,fortune,power,alldependingupon onemiddle-agedlife. Ugly,Watson—veryugly!” “Yes,indeed,Holmes.” “Nor could she prove an alibi. On the contrary, she had to admit that she was down near Thor Bridge—that was the scene of the tragedy—about that hour. She couldn’t deny it, for some passing villagerhadseenherthere.” “Thatreallyseemsfinal.” “Andyet,Watson—andyet! Thisbridge—asingle broadspanofstonewithbalustradedsides—carries the drive over the narrowest part of a long, deep, reed-girtsheetofwater. ThorMereitiscalled. Inthe mouth of the bridge lay the dead woman. Such are themainfacts. Buthere,ifImistakenot,isourclient, considerablybeforehistime.” Billy had opened the door, but the name which he announced was an unexpected one. Mr. Marlow Bates was a stranger to both of us. He was a thin, nervous wisp of a man with frightened eyes and a twitching,hesitatingmanner—amanwhommyown professionaleyewouldjudgetobeonthebrinkofan absolutenervousbreakdown.</s>“You seem agitated, Mr. Bates,” said Holmes.</s>“Pray sit down. I fear I can only give you a short time,forIhaveanappointmentateleven.” “I know you have,” our visitor gasped, shooting out short sentences like a man who is out of breath.</s>“Mr. Gibson is coming. Mr. Gibson is my employer.</s>I am manager of his estate. Mr. Holmes, he is a vil- lain—aninfernalvillain.” “Stronglanguage,Mr.Bates.” “Ihavetobeemphatic,Mr.Holmes,forthetimeis solimited. Iwouldnothavehimfindmeherefortheworld. He is almost due now. But I was so situated that I could not come earlier. His secretary, Mr. Fer- guson,onlytoldmethismorningofhisappointment withyou.” “Andyouarehismanager?” “I have given him notice. In a couple of weeks I shall have shaken off his accursed slavery. A hard man,Mr.Holmes,hardtoallabouthim. Thosepublic charities are a screen to cover his private iniquities.</s>But his wife was his chief victim. He was brutal to her—yes, sir, brutal! How she came by her death I donotknow,butIamsurethathehadmadeherlife a misery to her. She was a creature of the tropics, a Brazilianbybirth,asnodoubtyouknow.” “No,ithadescapedme.” “Tropicalbybirthandtropicalbynature. Achild of the sun and of passion. She had loved him as such women can love, but when her own physical charms had faded—I am told that they once were great—there was nothing to hold him. We all liked her and felt for her and hated him for the way that hetreatedher. Butheisplausibleandcunning. That isallIhavetosaytoyou. Don’ttakehimathisface value. There is more behind. Now I’ll go. No, no, don’tdetainme! Heisalmostdue.” With a frightened look at the clock our strange visitorliterallyrantothedooranddisappeared.</s>“Well! Well!” said Holmes after an interval of silence. “Mr.Gibsonseemstohaveaniceloyalhouse- hold. But the warning is a useful one, and now we canonlywaittillthemanhimselfappears.” Sharpatthehourweheardaheavystepuponthe stairs,andthefamousmillionairewasshownintothe room. As I looked upon him I understood not only thefearsanddislikeofhismanagerbutalsotheexe- crationswhichsomanybusinessrivalshaveheaped upon his head. If I were a sculptor and desired to idealize the successful man of affairs, iron of nerve andleatheryofconscience,IshouldchooseMr.Neil Gibson as my model. His tall, gaunt, craggy figure had a suggestion of hunger and rapacity. An Abra- hamLincolnkeyedtobaseusesinsteadofhighones would give some idea of the man. His face might have been chiselled in granite, hard-set, craggy, re- morseless,withdeeplinesuponit,thescarsofmany a crisis. Cold gray eyes, looking shrewdly out from underbristlingbrows,surveyeduseachinturn. He bowedinperfunctoryfashionasHolmesmentioned my name, and then with a masterful air of posses- sionhedrewachairuptomycompanionandseated himselfwithhisbonykneesalmosttouchinghim.</s>“Let me say right here, Mr. Holmes,” he began, “that money is nothing to me in this case. You can burnitifit’sanyuseinlightingyoutothetruth. This womanisinnocentandthiswomanhastobecleared, andit’suptoyoutodoit. Nameyourfigure!” “Myprofessionalchargesareuponafixedscale,” saidHolmescoldly. “Idonotvarythem,savewhenI remitthemaltogether.” “Well,ifdollarsmakenodifferencetoyou,think ofthereputation. Ifyoupullthisoffeverypaperin EnglandandAmericawillbeboomingyou. You’llbe thetalkoftwocontinents.” “Thankyou,Mr.Gibson,IdonotthinkthatIam in need of booming. It may surprise you to know thatIprefertoworkanonymously,andthatitisthe problemitselfwhichattractsme. Butwearewasting time. Letusgetdowntothefacts.” “Ithinkthatyouwillfindallthemainonesinthe press reports. I don’t know that I can add anything which will help you. But if there is anything you wouldwishmorelightupon—well,Iamheretogive it.” “Well,thereisjustonepoint.” “Whatisit?” “Whatweretheexactrelationsbetweenyouand MissDunbar?” The Gold King gave a violent start and half rose from hischair. Thenhismassivecalm cameback to him.</s>“Isupposeyouarewithinyourrights—andmaybe doing your duty—in asking such a question, Mr.</s>Holmes.” “Wewillagreetosupposeso,”saidHolmes.</s>“Then I can assure you that our relations were entirelyandalwaysthoseofanemployertowardsa youngladywhomheneverconversedwith, orever saw, save when she was in the company of his chil- dren.” Holmesrosefromhischair.</s>“I am a rather busy man, Mr. Gibson,” said he, “andIhavenotimeortasteforaimlessconversations.</s>Iwishyougood-morning.” Our visitor had risen also, and his great loose figure towered above Holmes. There was an angry gleamfromunderthosebristlingbrowsandatinge ofcolourinthesallowcheeks.</s>“Whatthedevildoyoumeanbythis,Mr.Holmes? Doyoudismissmycase?” “Well,Mr.Gibson,atleastIdismissyou. Ishould havethoughtmywordswereplain.”“Plainenough,butwhat’satthebackofit? Rais- ing the price on me, or afraid to tackle it, or what? I’vearighttoaplainanswer.” “Well,perhapsyouhave,”saidHolmes. “I’llgive you one. This case is quite sufficiently complicated to start with without the further difficulty of false information.” “MeaningthatIlie.” “Well, I was trying to express it as delicately as I could, but if you insist upon the word I will not contradictyou.” I sprang to my feet, for the expression upon the millionaire’s face was fiendish in its intensity, and he had raised his great knotted fist. Holmes smiled languidlyandreachedhishandoutforhispipe.</s>“Don’tbenoisy,Mr.Gibson. Ifindthatafterbreak- fast even the smallest argument is unsettling. I sug- gestthatastrollinthemorningairandalittlequiet thoughtwillbegreatlytoyouradvantage.” With an effort the Gold King mastered his fury.</s>I could not but admire him, for by a supreme self- commandhehadturnedinaminutefromahotflame ofangertoafrigidandcontemptuousindifference.</s>“Well,it’syourchoice. Iguessyouknowhowto run your own business. I can’t make you touch the caseagainstyourwill. You’vedoneyourselfnogood thismorning,Mr.Holmes,forIhavebrokenstronger menthanyou. Nomanevercrossedmeandwasthe betterforit.” “So many have said so, and yet here I am,” said Holmes, smiling. “Well, good-morning, Mr.Gibson.</s>Youhaveagooddealyettolearn.” Ourvisitormadeanoisyexit,butHolmessmoked inimperturbablesilencewithdreamyeyesfixedupon theceiling.</s>“Anyviews,Watson?”heaskedatlast.</s>“Well, Holmes, I must confess that when I con- sider that this is a man who would certainly brush any obstacle from his path, and when I remember thathiswifemayhavebeenanobstacleandanobject ofdislike,asthatmanBatesplainlytoldus,itseems tome—” “Exactly. Andtomealso.” “Butwhatwerehisrelationswiththegoverness, andhowdidyoudiscoverthem?” “Bluff,Watson,bluff! WhenIconsideredthepas- sionate, unconventional, unbusinesslike tone of his letter and contrasted it with his self-contained man- nerandappearance,itwasprettyclearthattherewas somedeepemotionwhichcentredupontheaccused woman rather than upon the victim. We’ve got to understandtheexactrelationsofthosethreepeopleif wearetoreachthetruth. Yousawthefrontalattack whichImadeuponhim,andhowimperturbablyhe receivedit. ThenIbluffedhimbygivinghimtheim- pressionthatIwasabsolutelycertain,wheninreality Iwasonlyextremelysuspicious.” “Perhapshewillcomeback?” “He is sure to come back. He must come back.</s>He can’t leave it where it is. Ha! isn’t that a ring? Yes, there is his footstep. Well, Mr. Gibson, I was just saying to Dr. Watson that you were somewhat overdue.” TheGoldKinghadreenteredtheroominamore chastened mood than he had left it. His wounded pridestillshowedinhisresentfuleyes,buthiscom- mon sense had shown him that he must yield if he wouldattainhisend.</s>“I’vebeenthinkingitover,Mr.Holmes,andIfeel thatIhavebeenhastyintakingyourremarksamiss.</s>You are justified in getting down to the facts, what- evertheymaybe,andIthinkthemoreofyouforit. I can assure you, however, that the relations between MissDunbarandmedon’treallytouchthiscase.” “Thatisformetodecide,isitnot?” “Yes, I guess that is so. You’re like a surgeon who wants every symptom before he can give his diagnosis.” “Exactly. That expresses it. And it is only a pa- tientwhohasanobjectindeceivinghissurgeonwho wouldconcealthefactsofhiscase.” “Thatmaybeso,butyouwilladmit,Mr.Holmes, that most men would shy off a bit when they are askedpoint-blankwhattheirrelationswithawoman maybe—ifthereisreallysomeseriousfeelinginthe case. I guess most men have a little private reserve oftheirowninsomecorneroftheirsoulswherethey don’t welcome intruders. And you burst suddenly into it. But the object excuses you, since it was to try and save her. Well, the stakes are down and the reserve open, and you can explore where you will.</s>Whatisityouwant?” “Thetruth.” TheGoldKingpausedforamomentasonewho marshalshisthoughts. Hisgrim,deep-linedfacehad becomeevensadderandmoregrave.</s>“I can give it to you in a very few words, Mr.</s>Holmes,”saidheatlast. “Therearesomethingsthat are painful as well as difficult to say, so I won’t go deeper than is needful. I met my wife when I wasgold-hunting in Brazil. Maria Pinto was the daugh- terofagovernmentofficialatManaos,andshewas verybeautiful. Iwasyoungandardentinthosedays, but even now, as I look back with colder blood and a more critical eye, I can see that she was rare and wonderful in her beauty. It was a deep rich nature, too,passionate,whole-hearted,tropical,ill-balanced, verydifferentfromtheAmericanwomenwhomIhad known. Well,tomakealongstoryshort,Ilovedher and I married her. It was only when the romance hadpassed—anditlingeredforyears—thatIrealized that we had nothing—absolutely nothing—in com- mon. Mylovefaded. Ifhershadfadedalsoitmight have been easier. But you know the wonderful way ofwomen! DowhatImight,nothingcouldturnher from me. If I have been harsh to her, even brutal as some have said, it has been because I knew that if I couldkillherlove,orifitturnedtohate,itwouldbe easier for both of us. But nothing changed her. She adoredmeinthoseEnglishwoodsasshehadadored metwentyyearsagoonthebanksoftheAmazon. Do whatImight,shewasasdevotedasever.</s>“Then came Miss Grace Dunbar. She answered ouradvertisementandbecamegovernesstoourtwo children. Perhapsyouhaveseenherportraitinthepa- pers. Thewholeworldhasproclaimedthatshealsois averybeautifulwoman. Now,Imakenopretenceto bemoremoralthanmyneighbours,andIwilladmit toyouthatIcouldnotliveunderthesameroofwith suchawomanandindailycontactwithherwithout feelingapassionateregardforher. Doyoublameme, Mr.Holmes?” “Idonotblameyouforfeelingit. Ishouldblame youifyouexpressedit,sincethisyoungladywasin asenseunderyourprotection.” “Well, maybe so,” said the millionaire, though foramomentthereproofhadbroughttheoldangry gleamintohiseyes. “I’mnotpretendingtobeanybet- terthanIam. IguessallmylifeI’vebeenamanthat reachedouthishandforwhathewanted,andInever wantedanythingmorethantheloveandpossession ofthatwoman. Itoldherso.” “Oh,youdid,didyou?” Holmescouldlookveryformidablewhenhewas moved.</s>“IsaidtoherthatifIcouldmarryherIwould,but that it was out of my power. I said that money was no object and that all I could do to make her happy andcomfortablewouldbedone.” “Very generous, I am sure,” said Holmes with a sneer.</s>“See here, Mr. Holmes. I came to you on a ques- tionofevidence,notonaquestionofmorals. I’mnot askingforyourcriticism.” “It is only for the young lady’s sake that I touch yourcaseatall,”saidHolmessternly. “Idon’tknow that anything she is accused of is really worse than whatyouhaveyourselfadmitted,thatyouhavetried to ruin a defenceless girl who was under your roof.</s>Some of you rich men have to be taught that all the world cannot be bribed into condoning your of- fences.” To my surprise the Gold King took the reproof withequanimity.</s>“That’s how I feel myself about it now. I thank God that my plans did not work out as I intended.</s>She would have none of it, and she wanted to leave thehouseinstantly.” “Whydidshenot?” “Well, in the first place, others were dependent upon her, and it was no light matter for her to let themalldownbysacrificingherliving. WhenIhad sworn—asIdid—thatsheshouldneverbemolested again,sheconsentedtoremain. Buttherewasanother reason. Sheknewtheinfluenceshehadoverme,and that it was stronger than any other influence in the world. Shewantedtouseitforgood.” “How?” “Well, she knew something of my affairs. They arelarge,Mr.Holmes—largebeyondthebeliefofan ordinaryman. Icanmakeorbreak—anditisusually break. Itwasn’tindividualsonly. Itwascommunities, cities,evennations. Businessisahardgame,andthe weakgotothewall. Iplayedthegameforallitwas worth. Ineversquealedmyself,andInevercaredif the other fellow squealed. But she saw it different.</s>I guess she was right. She believed and said that a fortune for one man that was more than he needed shouldnotbebuiltontenthousandruinedmenwho wereleftwithoutthemeansoflife. Thatwashowshe saw it, and I guess she could see past the dollars to something that was more lasting. She found that I listened to what she said, and she believed she was servingtheworldbyinfluencingmyactions. Soshe stayed—andthenthiscamealong.” “Canyouthrowanylightuponthat?” TheGoldKingpausedforaminuteormore,his headsunkinhishands,lostindeepthought.</s>“It’sveryblackagainsther. Ican’tdenythat. And womenleadaninwardlifeandmaydothingsbeyond thejudgmentofaman. AtfirstIwassorattledand takenabackthatIwasreadytothinkshehadbeenledaway in some extraordinary fashion that was clean againstherusualnature. Oneexplanationcameinto myhead. Igiveittoyou,Mr.Holmes,forwhatitis worth. There is no doubt that my wife was bitterly jealous. Thereisasoul-jealousythatcanbeasfrantic as any body-jealousy, and though my wife had no cause—andIthinksheunderstoodthis—forthelat- ter, she was aware that this English girl exerted an influenceuponmymindandmyactsthatsheherself neverhad. Itwasaninfluenceforgood,butthatdid notmendthematter. Shewascrazywithhatred,and theheatoftheAmazonwasalwaysinherblood. She mighthaveplannedtomurderMissDunbar—orwe willsaytothreatenherwithagunandsofrightenher intoleavingus. Thentheremighthavebeenascuffle andthegungoneoffandshotthewomanwhoheld it.” “That possibility had already occurred to me,” saidHolmes. “Indeed,itistheonlyobviousalterna- tivetodeliberatemurder.” “Butsheutterlydeniesit.” “Well,thatisnotfinal—isit? Onecanunderstand that a woman placed in so awful a position might hurry home still in her bewilderment holding the revolver. She might even throw it down among her clothes, hardly knowing what she was doing, and when it was found she might try to lie her way out byatotaldenial,sinceallexplanationwasimpossible.</s>Whatisagainstsuchasupposition?” “MissDunbarherself.” “Well,perhaps.” Holmes looked at his watch. “I have no doubt we can get the necessary permits this morning and reachWinchesterbytheeveningtrain. WhenIhave seen this young lady it is very possible that I may beofmoreusetoyouinthematter,thoughIcannot promisethatmyconclusionswillnecessarilybesuch asyoudesire.” Therewassomedelayintheofficialpass,andin- steadofreachingWinchesterthatdaywewentdown toThorPlace,theHampshireestateofMr.NeilGib- son. He did not accompany us himself, but we had theaddressofSergeantCoventry,ofthelocalpolice, whohadfirstexaminedintotheaffair. Hewasatall, thin, cadaverous man, with a secretive and mysteri- ous manner which conveyed the idea that he knew or suspected a very great deal more than he dared say. Hehadatrick,too,ofsuddenlysinkinghisvoice to a whisper as if he had come upon something of vitalimportance,thoughtheinformationwasusually commonplaceenough. Behindthesetricksofmanner hesoonshowedhimselftobeadecent,honestfellow who was not too proud to admit that he was out of hisdepthandwouldwelcomeanyhelp.</s>“Anyhow,I’dratherhaveyouthanScotlandYard, Mr. Holmes,” said he. “If the Yard gets called into a case, then the local loses all credit for success and maybeblamedforfailure. Now,youplaystraight,so I’veheard.” “I need not appear in the matter at all,” said Holmes to the evident relief of our melancholy ac- quaintance. “IfIcanclearitupIdon’tasktohavemy namementioned.” “Well,it’sveryhandsomeofyou,Iamsure. And yourfriend,Dr.Watson,canbetrusted,Iknow. Now, Mr. Holmes, as we walk down to the place there is one question I should like to ask you. I’d breathe it to no soul but you.” He looked round as though he hardlydareutterthewords. “Don’tyouthinkthere mightbeacaseagainstMr.NeilGibsonhimself?” “Ihavebeenconsideringthat.” “You’venotseenMissDunbar. Sheisawonderful finewomanineveryway. Hemaywellhavewished his wife out of the road. And these Americans are readierwithpistolsthanourfolkare. Itwashispistol, youknow.” “Wasthatclearlymadeout?” “Yes,sir. Itwasoneofapairthathehad.” “Oneofapair? Whereistheother?” “Well,thegentlemanhasalotoffirearmsofone sortandanother. Weneverquitematchedthatpartic- ularpistol—buttheboxwasmadefortwo.” “Ifitwasoneofapairyoushouldsurelybeable tomatchit.” “Well, we have them all laid out at the house if youwouldcaretolookthemover.” “Later, perhaps. I think we will walk down to- getherandhavealookatthesceneofthetragedy.” Thisconversationhadtakenplaceinthelittlefront room of Sergeant Coventry’s humble cottage which served as the local police-station. A walk of half a mile or so across a wind-swept heath, all gold and bronzewiththefadingferns,broughtustoaside-gate openingintothegroundsoftheThorPlaceestate. A pathledusthroughthepheasantpreserves,andthen fromaclearingwesawthewidespread,half-timbered house,halfTudorandhalfGeorgian,uponthecrestof thehill. Besideustherewasalong,reedypool,con- stricted in the centre where the main carriage drive passed over a stone bridge, but swelling into small lakesoneitherside. Ourguidepausedatthemouth ofthisbridge,andhepointedtotheground.“ThatwaswhereMrs.Gibson’sbodylay. Imarked itbythatstone.” “I understand that you were there before it was moved?” “Yes,theysentformeatonce.” “Whodid?” “Mr.Gibsonhimself. Themomentthealarmwas givenandhehadrusheddownwithothersfromthe house,heinsistedthatnothingshouldbemoveduntil thepoliceshouldarrive.” “Thatwassensible. Igatheredfromthenewspaper reportthattheshotwasfiredfromclosequarters.” “Yes,sir,veryclose.” “Neartherighttemple?” “Justbehindit,sir.” “Howdidthebodylie?” “On the back, sir. No trace of a struggle. No marks. Noweapon. TheshortnotefromMissDunbar wasclutchedinherlefthand.” “Clutched,yousay?” “Yes,sir,wecouldhardlyopenthefingers.” “Thatisofgreatimportance. Itexcludestheidea that anyone could have placed the note there after deathinordertofurnishafalseclue. Dearme! The note,asIremember,wasquiteshort: “IwillbeatThorBridgeatnineo’clock.</s>—“G.Dunbar.</s>“Wasthatnotso?” “Yes,sir.” “DidMissDunbaradmitwritingit?” “Yes,sir.” “Whatwasherexplanation?” “Her defence was reserved for the Assizes. She wouldsaynothing.” “The problem is certainly a very interesting one.</s>Thepointoftheletterisveryobscure,isitnot?” “Well,sir,”saidtheguide,“itseemed,ifImaybe soboldastosayso,theonlyreallyclearpointinthe wholecase.” Holmesshookhishead.</s>“Granting that the letter is genuine and was re- ally written, it was certainly received some time be- fore—sayonehourortwo. Why,then,wasthislady stillclaspingitinherlefthand? Whyshouldshecarry it so carefully? She did not need to refer to it in the interview. Doesitnotseemremarkable?” “Well,sir,asyouputit,perhapsitdoes.” “IthinkIshouldliketositquietlyforafewmin- utes and think it out.” He seated himself upon the stone ledge of the bridge, and I could see his quick grayeyesdartingtheirquestioningglancesineverydi- rection. Suddenlyhesprangupagainandranacross to the opposite parapet, whipped his lens from his pocket,andbegantoexaminethestonework.</s>“Thisiscurious,”saidhe.</s>“Yes, sir, we saw the chip on the ledge. I expect it’sbeendonebysomepasser-by.” The stonework was gray, but at this one point it showedwhiteforaspacenotlargerthanasixpence.</s>Whenexaminedcloselyonecouldseethatthesurface waschippedasbyasharpblow.</s>“It took some violence to do that,” said Holmes thoughtfully. With his cane he struck the ledge sev- eraltimeswithoutleavingamark. “Yes,itwasahard knock. Inacuriousplace,too. Itwasnotfromabove butfrombelow,foryouseethatitisontheloweredge oftheparapet.” “Butitisatleastfifteenfeetfromthebody.” “Yes,itisfifteenfeetfromthebody. Itmayhave nothingtodowiththematter,butitisapointworth noting. Idonotthinkthatwehaveanythingmoreto learnhere. Therewerenofootsteps,yousay?” “The ground was iron hard, sir. There were no tracesatall.” “Then we can go. We will go up to the house firstandlookovertheseweaponsofwhichyouspeak.</s>ThenweshallgetontoWinchester,forIshoulddesire toseeMissDunbarbeforewegofarther.” Mr.NeilGibsonhadnotreturnedfromtown,but wesawinthehousetheneuroticMr.Bateswhohad called upon us in the morning. He showed us with a sinister relish the formidable array of firearms of various shapes and sizes which his employer had accumulatedinthecourseofanadventurouslife.</s>“Mr.Gibsonhashisenemies,asanyonewouldex- pectwhoknewhimandhismethods,”saidhe. “He sleepswithaloadedrevolverinthedrawerbesidehis bed. Heisamanofviolence,sir,andtherearetimes when all of us are afraid of him. I am sure that the poorladywhohaspassedwasoftenterrified.” “Didyoueverwitnessphysicalviolencetowards her?” “No, I cannot say that. But I have heard words which were nearly as bad—words of cold, cutting contempt,evenbeforetheservants.”“Our millionaire does not seem to shine in pri- vatelife,”remarkedHolmesaswemadeourwayto thestation. “Well,Watson,wehavecomeonagood manyfacts, someofthemnewones, andyetIseem some way from my conclusion. In spite of the very evidentdislikewhichMr.Bateshastohisemployer, Igatherfromhimthatwhenthealarmcamehewas undoubtedly in his library. Dinner was over at 8.30 andallwasnormaluptothen. Itistruethatthealarm was somewhat late in the evening, but the tragedy certainlyoccurredaboutthehournamedinthenote.</s>ThereisnoevidenceatallthatMr.Gibsonhadbeen outofdoorssincehisreturnfromtownatfiveo’clock.</s>Ontheotherhand,MissDunbar,asIunderstandit, admits that she had made an appointment to meet Mrs.Gibsonatthebridge. Beyondthisshewouldsay nothing,asherlawyerhadadvisedhertoreserveher defence. Wehaveseveralveryvitalquestionstoask thatyounglady,andmymindwillnotbeeasyuntil wehaveseenher. Imustconfessthatthecasewould seemtometobeveryblackagainstherifitwerenot foronething.” “Andwhatisthat,Holmes?” “Thefindingofthepistolinherwardrobe.” “Dear me, Holmes!” I cried, “that seemed to me tobethemostdamningincidentofall.” “Not so, Watson. It had struck me even at my first perfunctory reading as very strange, and now that I am in closer touch with the case it is my only firmgroundforhope. Wemustlookforconsistency.</s>Where there is a want of it we must suspect decep- tion.” “Ihardlyfollowyou.” “Well now, Watson, suppose for a moment that wevisualizeyouinthecharacterofawomanwho,in acold,premeditatedfashion,isabouttogetridofa rival. You have plannedit. A notehas beenwritten.</s>The victim has come. You have your weapon. The crime is done. It has been workmanlike and com- plete. Doyoutellmethataftercarryingoutsocrafty a crime you would now ruin your reputation as a criminalbyforgettingtoflingyourweaponintothose adjacentreed-bedswhichwouldforevercoverit,but youmustneedscarryitcarefullyhomeandputitin your own wardrobe, the very first place that would besearched? Yourbestfriendswouldhardlycallyou a schemer, Watson, and yet I could not picture you doinganythingsocrudeasthat.” “Intheexcitementofthemoment—” “No,no,Watson,Iwillnotadmitthatitispossible.</s>Whereacrimeiscoollypremeditated,thenthemeans of covering it are coolly premeditated also. I hope, therefore, that we are in the presence of a serious misconception.” “Butthereissomuchtoexplain.” “Well,weshallsetaboutexplainingit. Whenonce yourpointofviewischanged,theverythingwhich wassodamningbecomesacluetothetruth. Forex- ample,thereisthisrevolver. MissDunbardisclaims allknowledgeofit. Onournewtheorysheisspeak- ingtruthwhenshesaysso. Therefore,itwasplaced inherwardrobe. Whoplaceditthere? Someonewho wished to incriminate her. Was not that person the actualcriminal? Youseehowwecomeatonceupon amostfruitfullineofinquiry.” WewerecompelledtospendthenightatWinch- ester,astheformalitieshadnotyetbeencompleted, butnextmorning,inthecompanyofMr.JoyceCum- mings, the rising barrister who was entrusted with the defence, we were allowed to see the young lady inhercell. Ihadexpectedfromallthatwehadheard toseeabeautifulwoman,butIcanneverforgetthe effectwhichMissDunbarproduceduponme. Itwas no wonder that even the masterful millionaire had found in her something more powerful than him- self—somethingwhichcouldcontrolandguidehim.</s>One felt, too, as one looked at the strong, clear-cut, andyetsensitiveface,thatevenshouldshebecapable ofsomeimpetuousdeed,nonethelesstherewasan innate nobility of character which would make her influence always for the good. She was a brunette, tall, with a noble figure and commanding presence, butherdarkeyeshadinthemtheappealing,helpless expressionofthehuntedcreaturewhofeelsthenets aroundit,butcanseenowayoutfromthetoils. Now, as she realized the presence and the help of my fa- mousfriend,therecameatouchofcolourinherwan cheeks and a light of hope began to glimmer in the glancewhichsheturneduponus.</s>“PerhapsMr.NeilGibsonhastoldyousomething of what occurred between us?” she asked in a low, agitatedvoice.</s>“Yes,”Holmesanswered,“youneednotpainyour- selfbyenteringintothatpartofthestory. Afterseeing you,IampreparedtoacceptMr.Gibson’sstatement both as to the influence which you had over him and as to the innocence of your relations with him.</s>Butwhywasthewholesituationnotbroughtoutin court?” “It seemed to me incredible that such a charge could be sustained. I thought that if we waited the whole thing must clear itself up without our being compelledtoenterintopainfuldetailsoftheinnerlifeofthefamily. ButIunderstandthatfarfromclearing ithasbecomeevenmoreserious.” “Mydearyounglady,”criedHolmesearnestly,“I begyoutohavenoillusionsuponthepoint. Mr.Cum- mingsherewouldassureyouthatallthecardsareat present against us, and that we must do everything that is possible if we are to win clear. It would be a cruel deception to pretend that you are not in very great danger. Give me all the help you can, then, to getatthetruth.” “Iwillconcealnothing.” “Tellus,then,ofyourtruerelationswithMr.Gib- son’swife.” “Shehatedme,Mr.Holmes. Shehatedmewithall thefervourofhertropicalnature. Shewasawoman whowoulddonothingbyhalves,andthemeasureof herloveforherhusbandwasthemeasurealsoofher hatredforme. Itisprobablethatshemisunderstood ourrelations. Iwouldnotwishtowrongher,butshe loved so vividly in a physical sense that she could hardlyunderstandthemental,andevenspiritual,tie whichheldherhusbandtome,orimaginethatitwas only my desire to influence his power to good ends which kept me under his roof. I can see now that I was wrong. Nothing could justify me in remaining where I was a cause of unhappiness, and yet it is certain that the unhappiness would have remained evenifIhadleftthehouse.” “Now,MissDunbar,”saidHolmes,“Ibegyouto tellusexactlywhatoccurredthatevening.” “I can tell you the truth so far as I know it, Mr.</s>Holmes,butIaminapositiontoprovenothing,and therearepoints—themostvitalpoints—whichIcan neitherexplainnorcanIimagineanyexplanation.” “Ifyouwillfindthefacts,perhapsothersmayfind theexplanation.” “Withregard,then,tomypresenceatThorBridge thatnight,IreceivedanotefromMrs.Gibsoninthe morning. It lay on the table of the schoolroom, and it may have been left there by her own hand. It im- ploredmetoseeherthereafterdinner,saidshehad somethingimportanttosaytome,andaskedmeto leaveanansweronthesundialinthegarden,asshe desirednoonetobeinourconfidence. Isawnorea- sonforsuchsecrecy,butIdidassheasked,accepting the appointment. She asked me to destroy her note and I burned it in the schoolroom grate. She was very much afraid of her husband, who treated her with a harshness for which I frequently reproached him,andIcouldonlyimaginethatsheactedinthis way because she did not wish him to know of our interview.” “Yetshekeptyourreplyverycarefully?” “Yes. Iwassurprisedtohearthatshehaditinher handwhenshedied.” “Well,whathappenedthen?” “IwentdownasIhadpromised. WhenIreached thebridgeshewaswaitingforme. NeverdidIrealize till that moment how this poor creature hated me.</s>Shewaslikeamadwoman—indeed,Ithinkshewas a mad woman, subtly mad with the deep power of deceptionwhichinsanepeoplemayhave. Howelse couldshehavemetmewithunconcerneverydayand yethadsoragingahatredofmeinherheart? Iwill not say what she said. She poured her whole wild fury out in burning and horrible words. I did not evenanswer—Icouldnot. Itwasdreadfultoseeher.</s>Iputmyhandstomyearsandrushedaway. WhenI lefthershewasstanding,stillshriekingouthercurses atme,inthemouthofthebridge.” “Whereshewasafterwardsfound?” “Withinafewyardsfromthespot.” “And yet, presuming that she met her death shortlyafteryoulefther,youheardnoshot?” “No,Iheardnothing. But,indeed,Mr.Holmes,I wassoagitatedandhorrifiedbythisterribleoutbreak that I rushed to get back to the peace of my own room,andIwasincapableofnoticinganythingwhich happened.” “Yousaythatyoureturnedtoyourroom. Didyou leaveitagainbeforenextmorning?” “Yes,whenthealarmcamethatthepoorcreature hadmetherdeathIranoutwiththeothers.” “DidyouseeMr.Gibson?” “Yes,hehadjustreturnedfromthebridgewhenI sawhim. Hehadsentforthedoctorandthepolice.” “Didheseemtoyoumuchperturbed?” “Mr.Gibsonisaverystrong,self-containedman.</s>Idonotthinkthathewouldevershowhisemotions on the surface. But I, who knew him so well, could seethathewasdeeplyconcerned.” “Then we come to the all-important point. This pistol that was found in your room. Had you ever seenitbefore?” “Never,Iswearit.” “Whenwasitfound?” “Next morning, when the police made their search.” “Amongyourclothes?”“Yes, on the floor of my wardrobe under my dresses.” “Youcouldnotguesshowlongithadbeenthere?” “Ithadnotbeentherethemorningbefore.” “Howdoyouknow?” “BecauseItidiedoutthewardrobe.” “Thatisfinal. Thensomeonecameintoyourroom andplacedthepistolthereinordertoinculpateyou.” “Itmusthavebeenso.” “Andwhen?” “It could only have been at meal-time, or else at the hours when I would be in the schoolroom with thechildren.” “Asyouwerewhenyougotthenote?” “Yes,fromthattimeonwardforthewholemorn- ing.” “Thankyou,MissDunbar. Isthereanyotherpoint whichcouldhelpmeintheinvestigation?” “Icanthinkofnone.” “There was some sign of violence on the stonework of the bridge—a perfectly fresh chip just opposite the body. Could you suggest any possible explanationofthat?” “Surelyitmustbeamerecoincidence.” “Curious,MissDunbar,verycurious. Whyshould itappearattheverytimeofthetragedy,andwhyat theveryplace?” “But what could have caused it? Only great vio- lencecouldhavesuchaneffect.” Holmesdidnotanswer. Hispale,eagerfacehad suddenly assumed that tense, far-away expression which I had learned to associate with the supreme manifestationsofhisgenius. Soevidentwasthecrisis in his mind that none of us dared to speak, and we sat,barrister,prisoner,andmyself,watchinghimin a concentrated and absorbed silence. Suddenly he sprangfromhischair,vibratingwithnervousenergy andthepressingneedforaction.</s>“Come,Watson,come!”hecried.</s>“Whatisit,Mr.Holmes?” “Never mind, my dear lady. You will hear from me,Mr.Cummings. Withthehelpofthegodofjus- tice I will give you a case which will make England ring. Youwillgetnewsbyto-morrow,MissDunbar, andmeanwhiletakemyassurancethatthecloudsare lifting and that I have every hope that the light of truthisbreakingthrough.” ItwasnotalongjourneyfromWinchestertoThor Place,butitwaslongtomeinmyimpatience,while forHolmesitwasevidentthatitseemedendless;for, inhisnervousrestlessness,hecouldnotsitstill,but pacedthecarriageordrummedwithhislong,sensi- tivefingersuponthecushionsbesidehim. Suddenly, however,aswenearedourdestinationheseatedhim- self opposite to me—we had a first-class carriage to ourselves—and laying a hand upon each of my kneeshelookedintomyeyeswiththepeculiarlymis- chievous gaze which was characteristic of his more imp-likemoods.</s>“Watson,”saidhe,“Ihavesomerecollectionthat yougoarmedupontheseexcursionsofours.” It was as well for him that I did so, for he took littlecareforhisownsafetywhenhismindwasonce absorbed by a problem, so that more than once my revolverhadbeenagoodfriendinneed. Ireminded himofthefact.</s>“Yes,yes,Iamalittleabsent-mindedinsuchmat- ters. Buthaveyouyourrevolveronyou?” Iproduceditfrommyhip-pocket,ashort,handy, butveryserviceablelittleweapon. Heundidthecatch, shookoutthecartridges,andexamineditwithcare.</s>“It’sheavy—remarkablyheavy,”saidhe.</s>“Yes,itisasolidbitofwork.” Hemusedoveritforaminute.</s>“Doyouknow,Watson,”saidhe,“Ibelieveyour revolverisgoingtohaveaveryintimateconnection withthemysterywhichweareinvestigating.” “MydearHolmes,youarejoking.” “No, Watson, I am very serious. There is a test beforeus. Ifthetestcomesoff,allwillbeclear. And the test will depend upon the conduct of this little weapon. One cartridge out. Now we will replace the other five and put on the safety-catch. So! That increasestheweightandmakesitabetterreproduc- tion.” I had no glimmer of what was in his mind, nor didheenlightenme,butsatlostinthoughtuntilwe pulledupinthelittleHampshirestation. Wesecured aramshackletrap,andinaquarterofanhourwere atthehouseofourconfidentialfriend,thesergeant.</s>“Aclue,Mr.Holmes? Whatisit?” “ItalldependsuponthebehaviourofDr.Watson’s revolver,” said my friend. “Here it is. Now, officer, canyougivemetenyardsofstring?” Thevillageshopprovidedaballofstouttwine.</s>“Ithinkthatthisisallwewillneed,”saidHolmes.</s>“Now,ifyouplease,wewillgetoffonwhatIhopeis thelaststageofourjourney.”ThesunwassettingandturningtherollingHamp- shire moor into a wonderful autumnal panorama.</s>The sergeant, with many critical and incredulous glances,whichshowedhisdeepdoubtsofthesanity of my companion, lurched along beside us. As we approached the scene of the crime I could see that myfriendunderallhishabitualcoolnesswasintruth deeplyagitated.</s>“Yes,”hesaidinanswertomyremark,“youhave seen me miss my mark before, Watson. I have an instinct for such things, and yet it has sometimes played me false. It seemed a certainty when first it flashedacrossmymindinthecellatWinchester,but one drawback of an active mind is that one can al- waysconceivealternativeexplanationswhichwould makeourscentafalseone. Andyet—andyet—Well, Watson,wecanbuttry.” As he walked he had firmly tied one end of the string to the handle of the revolver. We had now reachedthesceneofthetragedy. Withgreatcarehe markedoutundertheguidanceofthepolicemanthe exact spot where the body had been stretched. He then hunted among the heather and the ferns until hefoundaconsiderablestone. Thishesecuredtothe otherendofhislineofstring,andhehungitoverthe parapetofthebridgesothatitswungclearabovethe water. Hethenstoodonthefatalspot,somedistance fromtheedgeofthebridge,withmyrevolverinhis hand,thestringbeingtautbetweentheweaponand theheavystoneonthefartherside.</s>“Nowforit!”hecried.</s>Atthewordsheraisedthepistoltohishead,and thenletgohisgrip. Inaninstantithadbeenwhisked away by the weight of the stone, had struck with a sharp crack against the parapet, and had vanished overthesideintothewater. Ithadhardlygonebefore Holmeswaskneelingbesidethestonework,andajoy- ouscryshowedthathehadfoundwhatheexpected.</s>“Wasthereeveramoreexactdemonstration?”he cried. “See, Watson, your revolver has solved the problem!” As he spoke he pointed to a second chip of the exact size and shape of the first which had appearedontheunderedgeofthestonebalustrade.</s>“We’ll stay at the inn to-night,” he continued as heroseandfacedtheastonishedsergeant. “Youwill, of course, get a grappling-hook and you will easily restoremyfriend’srevolver. Youwillalsofindbeside ittherevolver,stringandweightwithwhichthisvin- dictivewomanattemptedtodisguiseherowncrime and to fasten a charge of murder upon an innocent victim. You can let Mr. Gibson know that I will see himinthemorning,whenstepscanbetakenforMiss Dunbar’svindication.” Latethatevening,aswesattogethersmokingour pipes in the village inn, Holmes gave me a brief re- viewofwhathadpassed.</s>“I fear, Watson,” said he, “that you will not im- proveanyreputationwhichImayhaveacquiredby adding the case of the Thor Bridge mystery to your annals. I have been sluggish in mind and wanting in that mixture of imagination and reality which is the basis of my art. I confess that the chip in the stoneworkwasasufficientcluetosuggestthetrueso- lution,andthatIblamemyselffornothavingattained itsooner.</s>“Itmustbeadmittedthattheworkingsofthisun- happywoman’smindweredeepandsubtle,sothat itwasnoverysimplemattertounravelherplot. Ido notthinkthatinouradventureswehaveevercome acrossastrangerexampleofwhatpervertedlovecan bringabout. WhetherMiss Dunbarwasher rival in aphysicalorinamerelymentalsenseseemstohave beenequallyunforgivableinhereyes. Nodoubtshe blamedthisinnocentladyforallthoseharshdealings andunkindwordswithwhichherhusbandtriedto repelhertoodemonstrativeaffection. Herfirstresolu- tionwastoendherownlife. Hersecondwastodoit insuchawayastoinvolvehervictiminafatewhich wasworsefarthananysuddendeathcouldbe.</s>“Wecanfollowthevariousstepsquiteclearly,and they show a remarkable subtlety of mind. A note wasextractedverycleverlyfromMissDunbarwhich wouldmakeitappearthatshehadchosenthescene ofthecrime. Inheranxietythatitshouldbediscov- ered she somewhat overdid it by holding it in her handtothelast. Thisaloneshouldhaveexcitedmy suspicionsearlierthanitdid.</s>“Then she took one of her husband’s re- volvers—there was, as you saw, an arsenal in the house—andkeptitforherownuse. Asimilaroneshe concealedthatmorninginMissDunbar’swardrobe after discharging one barrel, which she could easily dointhewoodswithoutattractingattention. Shethen wentdowntothebridgewhereshehadcontrivedthis exceedinglyingeniousmethodforgettingridofher weapon. WhenMissDunbarappearedsheusedher lastbreathinpouringoutherhatred,andthen,when she was out of hearing, carried out her terrible pur- pose. Every link is now in its place and the chain iscomplete. Thepapersmayaskwhythemerewas not dragged in the first instance, but it is easy to be wiseaftertheevent,andinanycasetheexpanseofareed-filledlakeisnoeasymattertodragunlessyou have a clear perception of what you are looking for andwhere. Well,Watson,wehavehelpedaremark- ablewoman,andalsoaformidableman. Shouldthey in the future join their forces, as seems not unlikely, the financial world may find that Mr. Neil Gibson haslearnedsomethinginthatschoolroomofsorrow whereourearthlylessonsaretaught.”r.SherlockHolmeswasalwaysofopinion thatIshouldpublishthesingularfactscon- nectedwithProfessorPresbury,ifonlyto M dispelonceforalltheuglyrumourswhich some twenty years ago agitated the university and wereechoedinthelearnedsocietiesofLondon. There were, however, certain obstacles in the way, and the truehistoryofthiscuriouscaseremainedentombed inthetinboxwhichcontainssomanyrecordsofmy friend’s adventures. Now we have at last obtained permission to ventilate the facts which formed one of the very last cases handled by Holmes before his retirement from practice. Even now a certain reti- cenceanddiscretionhavetobeobservedinlayingthe matterbeforethepublic.</s>ItwasoneSundayeveningearlyinSeptemberof theyear1903thatIreceivedoneofHolmes’slaconic messages: Come at once if convenient—if inconve- nientcomeallthesame.</s>—S.H.</s>Therelationsbetweenusinthoselatterdayswere peculiar. Hewasamanofhabits,narrowandconcen- trated habits, and Ihad become oneof them. As an institutionIwasliketheviolin,theshagtobacco,the oldblackpipe,theindexbooks,andothersperhaps less excusable. When it was a case of active work and a comrade was needed upon whose nerve he couldplacesomereliance,myrolewasobvious. But apartfromthisIhaduses. Iwasawhetstoneforhis mind. I stimulated him. He liked to think aloud in my presence. His remarks could hardly be said to be made to me—many of them would have been as appropriately addressed to his bedstead—but none the less, having formed the habit, it had become in somewayhelpfulthatIshouldregisterandinterject.</s>IfIirritatedhimbyacertainmethodicalslownessin mymentality,thatirritationservedonlytomakehis own flame-like intuitions and impressions flash up the more vividly and swiftly. Such was my humble roleinouralliance.</s>When I arrived at Baker Street I found him hud- dledupinhisarmchairwithupdrawnknees,hispipe inhismouthandhisbrowfurrowedwiththought. It wasclearthathewasinthethroesofsomevexatious problem. With a wave of his hand he indicated my oldarmchair,butotherwiseforhalfanhourhegave nosignthathewasawareofmypresence. Thenwith astartheseemedtocomefromhisreverie,andwith hisusualwhimsicalsmilehegreetedmebacktowhat hadoncebeenmyhome.</s>“Youwillexcuseacertainabstractionofmind,my dearWatson,”saidhe. “Somecuriousfactshavebeen submitted to me within the last twenty-four hours, andtheyinturnhavegivenrisetosomespeculations ofamoregeneralcharacter. Ihaveseriousthoughts ofwritingasmallmonographupontheusesofdogs intheworkofthedetective.” “Butsurely,Holmes,thishasbeenexplored,”said I.“Bloodhounds—sleuth-hounds—” “No, no, Watson, that side of the matter is, of course, obvious. But there is another which is far moresubtle. Youmayrecollectthatinthecasewhich you,inyoursensationalway,coupledwiththeCop- perBeeches,Iwasable,bywatchingthemindofthe child,toformadeductionastothecriminalhabitsof theverysmugandrespectablefather.” “Yes,Irememberitwell.” “Mylineofthoughtsaboutdogsisanalogous. A dog reflects the family life. Whoever saw a frisky doginagloomyfamily,orasaddoginahappyone? Snarlingpeoplehavesnarlingdogs,dangerouspeople havedangerousones. Andtheirpassingmoodsmay reflectthepassingmoodsofothers.” Ishookmyhead. “Surely,Holmes,thisisalittle far-fetched,”saidI.</s>He had refilled his pipe and resumed his seat, takingnonoticeofmycomment.</s>“The practical application of what I have said is veryclosetotheproblemwhichIaminvestigating. It isatangledskein,youunderstand,andIamlooking for a loose end. One possible loose end lies in the question: WhydoesProfessorPresbury’swolfhound, Roy,endeavourtobitehim?” Isankbackinmychairinsomedisappointment.</s>WasitforsotrivialaquestionasthisthatIhadbeen summonedfrommywork? Holmesglancedacrossat me.</s>“ThesameoldWatson!”saidhe. “Youneverlearn thatthegravestissuesmaydependuponthesmallest things. Butisitnotonthefaceofitstrangethatastaid, elderly philosopher—you’ve heard of Presbury, of course,thefamousCamfordphysiologist?—thatsuch aman,whosefriendhasbeenhisdevotedwolfhound, shouldnowhavebeentwiceattackedbyhisowndog? Whatdoyoumakeofit?” “Thedogisill.” “Well, that has to be considered. But he attacks nooneelse, nordoesheapparentlymolesthismas- ter, save on very special occasions. Curious, Wat- son—very curious. But young Mr. Bennett is beforehis time if that is his ring. I had hoped to have a longerchatwithyoubeforehecame.” Therewasaquicksteponthestairs, asharptap at the door, and a moment later the new client pre- sentedhimself. Hewasatall,handsomeyouthabout thirty,welldressedandelegant,butwithsomething in his bearing which suggested the shyness of the studentratherthantheself-possessionofthemanof the world. He shook hands with Holmes, and then lookedwithsomesurpriseatme.</s>“This matter is very delicate, Mr. Holmes,” he said. “ConsidertherelationinwhichIstandtoPro- fessorPresburybothprivatelyandpublicly. Ireally can hardly justify myself if I speak before any third person.” “Havenofear,Mr.Bennett. Dr.Watsonisthevery soulofdiscretion,andIcanassureyouthatthisisa matterinwhichIamverylikelytoneedanassistant.” “As you like, Mr. Holmes. You will, I am sure, understandmyhavingsomereservesinthematter.” “You will appreciate it, Watson, when I tell you that this gentleman, Mr. Trevor Bennett, is profes- sionalassistanttothegreatscientist,livesunderhis roof,andisengagedtohisonlydaughter. Certainly wemustagreethattheprofessorhaseveryclaimupon his loyalty and devotion. But it may best be shown bytakingthenecessarystepstoclearupthisstrange mystery.” “I hope so, Mr. Holmes. That is my one object.</s>DoesDr.Watsonknowthesituation?” “Ihavenothadtimetoexplainit.” “Then perhaps I had better go over the ground againbeforeexplainingsomefreshdevelopments.” “I will do so myself,” said Holmes, “in order to show that I have the events in their due order. The professor, Watson, is a man of European reputation.</s>His life has been academic. There has never been a breathofscandal. Heisawidowerwithonedaugh- ter, Edith. He is, I gather, a man of very virile and positive, one might almost say combative, character.</s>Sothematterstooduntilaveryfewmonthsago.</s>“Then the current of his life was broken. He is sixty-oneyearsofage,buthebecameengagedtothe daughter of Professor Morphy, his colleague in the chair of comparative anatomy. It was not, as I un- derstand, the reasoned courting of an elderly man butratherthepassionatefrenzyofyouth,fornoone couldhaveshownhimselfamoredevotedlover. The lady, Alice Morphy, was a very perfect girl both in mindandbody,sothattherewaseveryexcuseforthe professor’sinfatuation. Nonetheless,itdidnotmeet withfullapprovalinhisownfamily.” “Wethoughtitratherexcessive,”saidourvisitor.</s>“Exactly. Excessiveandalittleviolentandunnat- ural. ProfessorPresburywasrich,however,andthere was no objection upon the part of the father. The daughter,however,hadotherviews,andtherewere alreadyseveralcandidatesforherhand,who,ifthey werelesseligiblefromaworldlypointofview,were at least more of an age. The girl seemed to like the professorinspiteofhiseccentricities. Itwasonlyage whichstoodintheway.</s>“Aboutthistimealittlemysterysuddenlyclouded thenormalroutineoftheprofessor’slife. Hedidwhat hehadneverdonebefore. Helefthomeandgaveno indicationwherehewasgoing. Hewasawayafort- night and returned looking rather travel-worn. He madenoallusiontowherehehadbeen,althoughhe wasusuallythefrankestofmen. Itchanced,however, thatourclienthere,Mr.Bennett,receivedaletterfrom afellow-studentinPrague,whosaidthathewasglad to have seen Professor Presbury there, although he hadnotbeenabletotalktohim. Onlyinthiswaydid hisownhouseholdlearnwherehehadbeen.</s>“Nowcomesthepoint. Fromthattimeonwarda curiouschangecameovertheprofessor. Hebecame furtiveandsly. Thosearoundhimhadalwaysthefeel- ingthathewasnotthemanthattheyhadknown,but thathewasundersomeshadowwhichhaddarkened hishigherqualities. Hisintellectwasnotaffected. His lectureswereasbrilliantasever. Butalwaystherewas something new, something sinister and unexpected.</s>His daughter, who was devoted to him, tried again andagaintoresumetheoldrelationsandtopenetrate this mask which her father seemed to have put on.</s>You,sir,asIunderstand,didthesame—butallwasin vain. Andnow,Mr.Bennett,tellinyourownwords theincidentoftheletters.” “Youmustunderstand,Dr.Watson,thatthepro- fessor had no secrets from me. If I were his son or hisyoungerbrotherIcouldnothavemorecompletely enjoyed his confidence. As his secretary I handled every paper which came to him, and I opened and subdividedhisletters. Shortlyafterhisreturnallthis was changed. He told me that certain letters might come to him from London which would be marked by a cross under the stamp. These were to be set aside for his own eyes only. I may say that several of these did pass through my hands, that they had theE.C.mark,andwereinanilliteratehandwriting.</s>Ifheansweredthematalltheanswersdidnotpassthroughmyhandsnorintotheletter-basketinwhich ourcorrespondencewascollected.” “Andthebox,”saidHolmes.</s>“Ah,yes,thebox. Theprofessorbroughtbackalit- tlewoodenboxfromhistravels. Itwastheonething whichsuggestedaContinentaltour,foritwasoneof thosequaintcarvedthingswhichoneassociateswith Germany. Thisheplacedinhisinstrumentcupboard.</s>One day, in looking for a canula, I took up the box.</s>Tomysurprisehewasveryangry,andreprovedme in words which were quite savage for my curiosity.</s>Itwasthefirsttimesuchathinghadhappened,and I was deeply hurt. I endeavoured to explain that it was a mere accident that I had touched the box, butalltheeveningIwasconsciousthathelookedat meharshlyandthattheincidentwasranklinginhis mind.”Mr.Bennettdrewalittlediarybookfromhis pocket. “ThatwasonJuly2d,”saidhe.</s>“You are certainly an admirable witness,” said Holmes. “Imayneedsomeofthesedateswhichyou havenoted.” “I learned method among other things from my great teacher. From the time that I observed abnor- mality in his behaviour I felt that it was my duty to studyhiscase. ThusIhaveitherethatitwasonthat veryday,July2d,thatRoyattackedtheprofessoras hecamefromhisstudyintothehall. Again,onJuly 11th, there was a scene of the same sort, and then I haveanoteofyetanotheruponJuly20th. Afterthat we had to banish Roy to the stables. He was a dear, affectionateanimal—butIfearIwearyyou.” Mr.Bennettspokeinatoneofreproach,foritwas veryclearthatHolmeswasnotlistening. Hisfacewas rigid and his eyes gazed abstractedly at the ceiling.</s>Withaneffortherecoveredhimself.</s>“Singular! Mostsingular!”hemurmured. “These detailswerenewtome,Mr.Bennett. Ithinkwehave now fairly gone over the old ground, have we not? Butyouspokeofsomefreshdevelopments.” The pleasant, open face of our visitor clouded over,shadowedbysomegrimremembrance. “WhatI speak of occurred the night before last,” said he. “I was lying awake about two in the morning, when I wasawareofadullmuffledsoundcomingfromthe passage. Iopenedmydoorandpeepedout. Ishould explain that the professor sleeps at the end of the passage—” “Thedatebeing—?”askedHolmes.</s>Ourvisitorwasclearlyannoyedatsoirrelevantan interruption.</s>“I have said, sir, that it was the night before last—thatis,September4th.” Holmesnoddedandsmiled.</s>“Praycontinue,”saidhe.</s>“He sleeps at the end of the passage and would havetopassmydoorinordertoreachthestaircase. It wasareallyterrifyingexperience,Mr.Holmes. Ithink that I am as strong-nerved as my neighbours, but I wasshakenbywhatIsaw. Thepassagewasdarksave that one window halfway along it threw a patch of light. I could see that something was coming along the passage, something dark and crouching. Then suddenlyitemergedintothelight,andIsawthatit washe. Hewascrawling,Mr.Holmes—crawling! He wasnotquiteonhishandsandknees. Ishouldrather sayonhishandsandfeet,withhisfacesunkbetween his hands. Yet he seemed to move with ease. I was soparalyzedbythesightthatitwasnotuntilhehad reachedmydoorthatIwasabletostepforwardand ask if I could assist him. His answer was extraordi- nary. Hesprangup,spatoutsomeatrociouswordat me,andhurriedonpastme,anddownthestaircase.</s>Iwaitedaboutforanhour,buthedidnotcomeback.</s>It must have been daylight before he regained his room.” “Well, Watson, what make you of that?” asked Holmeswiththeairofthepathologistwhopresents ararespecimen.</s>“Lumbago,possibly. Ihaveknownasevereattack make a man walk in just such a way, and nothing wouldbemoretryingtothetemper.” “Good,Watson! Youalwayskeepusflat-footedon theground. Butwecanhardlyacceptlumbago,since hewasabletostanderectinamoment.” “Hewasneverbetterinhealth,”saidBennett. “In fact,heisstrongerthanIhaveknownhimforyears.</s>But there are the facts, Mr. Holmes. It is not a case in which we can consult the police, and yet we are utterly at our wit’s end as to what to do, and we feelinsomestrangewaythatwearedriftingtowards disaster. Edith—MissPresbury—feelsasIdo,thatwe cannotwaitpassivelyanylonger.” “Itiscertainlyaverycuriousandsuggestivecase.</s>Whatdoyouthink,Watson?” “Speakingasamedicalman,”saidI,“itappearsto beacaseforanalienist. Theoldgentleman’scerebral processesweredisturbedbytheloveaffair. Hemade ajourneyabroadinthehopeofbreakinghimselfof thepassion. Hislettersandtheboxmaybeconnected withsomeotherprivatetransaction—aloan,perhaps, orsharecertificates,whichareinthebox.”“Andthewolfhoundnodoubtdisapprovedofthe financialbargain. No,no,Watson,thereismoreinit thanthis. Now,Icanonlysuggest—” WhatSherlockHolmeswasabouttosuggestwill neverbeknown,foratthismomentthedooropened andayoungladywasshownintotheroom. Asshe appearedMr.Bennettsprangupwithacryandran forwardwithhishandsouttomeetthosewhichshe hadherselfoutstretched.</s>“Edith,dear! Nothingthematter,Ihope?” “IfeltImustfollowyou. Oh,Jack,Ihavebeenso dreadfullyfrightened! Itisawfultobetherealone.” “Mr. Holmes, this is the young lady I spoke of.</s>Thisismyfiancee.” “We were gradually coming to that conclusion, werewenot,Watson?”Holmesansweredwithasmile.</s>“Itakeit,MissPresbury,thatthereissomefreshdevel- opmentinthecase,andthatyouthoughtweshould know?” Ournewvisitor,abright,handsomegirlofacon- ventionalEnglishtype,smiledbackatHolmesasshe seatedherselfbesideMr.Bennett.</s>“When I found Mr. Bennett had left his hotel I thoughtIshouldprobablyfindhimhere. Ofcourse, he had told me that he would consult you. But, oh, Mr.Holmes,canyoudonothingformypoorfather?” “Ihavehopes,MissPresbury,butthecaseisstill obscure. Perhaps what you have to say may throw somefreshlightuponit.” “Itwaslastnight,Mr.Holmes. Hehadbeenvery strangeallday. Iamsurethattherearetimes when he has no recollection of what he does. He lives as inastrangedream. Yesterdaywassuchaday. Itwas notmyfatherwithwhomIlived. Hisoutwardshell wasthere,butitwasnotreallyhe.” “Tellmewhathappened.” “Iwasawakenedinthenightbythedogbarking mostfuriously. PoorRoy,heischainednownearthe stable. I may say that I always sleep with my door locked;for,asJack—asMr.Bennett—willtellyou,we allhaveafeelingofimpendingdanger. Myroomis on the second floor. It happened that the blind was up in my window, and there was bright moonlight outside. AsIlaywithmyeyesfixeduponthesquare oflight,listeningtothefrenziedbarkingsofthedog, I was amazed to see my father’s face looking in at me. Mr.Holmes,Inearlydiedofsurpriseandhorror.</s>Thereitwaspressed againstthewindow-pane, and one hand seemed to be raised as if to push up the window. Ifthatwindowhadopened,IthinkIshould have gone mad. It was no delusion, Mr. Holmes.</s>Don’t deceive yourself by thinking so. I dare say it was twenty seconds or so that I lay paralyzed and watchedtheface. Thenitvanished,butIcouldnot—I couldnotspringoutofbedandlookoutafterit. Ilay coldandshiveringtillmorning. Atbreakfasthewas sharpandfierceinmanner,andmadenoallusionto theadventureofthenight. NeitherdidI,butIgave anexcuseforcomingtotown—andhereIam.” HolmeslookedthoroughlysurprisedatMissPres- bury’snarrative.</s>“Mydearyounglady, yousaythatyourroomis on the second floor. Is there a long ladder in the garden?” “No, Mr. Holmes, that is the amazing part of it. There is no possible way of reaching the win- dow—andyethewasthere.” “The date being September 5th,” said Holmes.</s>“Thatcertainlycomplicatesmatters.” It was the young lady’s turn to look surprised.</s>“Thisisthesecondtimethatyouhavealludedtothe date,Mr.Holmes,”saidBennett. “Isitpossiblethatit hasanybearinguponthecase?” “Itispossible—verypossible—andyetIhavenot myfullmaterialatpresent.” “Possibly you are thinking of the connection be- tweeninsanityandphasesofthemoon?” “No,Iassureyou. Itwasquiteadifferentlineof thought. Possiblyyoucanleaveyournotebookwith me,andIwillcheckthedates. NowIthink,Watson, that our line of action is perfectly clear. This young lady has informed us—and I have the greatest con- fidence in her intuition—that her father remembers littleornothingwhichoccursuponcertaindates. We willthereforecalluponhimasifhehadgivenusan appointmentuponsuchadate. Hewillputitdown to his own lack of memory. Thus we will open our campaignbyhavingagoodcloseviewofhim.” “Thatisexcellent,”saidMr.Bennett. “Iwarnyou, however,thattheprofessorisirascibleandviolentat times.” Holmes smiled. “There are reasons why we shouldcomeatonce—verycogentreasonsifmytheo- riesholdgood. To-morrow,Mr.Bennett,willcertainly seeusinCamford. Thereis,ifIrememberright, an inn called the Chequers where the port used to be abovemediocrityandthelinenwasabovereproach.</s>I think, Watson, that our lot for the next few days mightlieinlesspleasantplaces.” Mondaymorningfoundusonourwaytothefa- mousuniversitytown—aneasyeffortonthepartofHolmes,whohadnorootstopullup,butonewhich involved frantic planning and hurrying on my part, as my practice was by this time not inconsiderable.</s>Holmes made no allusion to the case until after we had deposited our suitcases at the ancient hostel of whichhehadspoken.</s>“Ithink,Watson,thatwecancatchtheprofessor just before lunch. He lectures at eleven and should haveanintervalathome.” “Whatpossibleexcusehaveweforcalling?” Holmesglancedathisnotebook.</s>“There was a period of excitement upon August 26th. We will assume that he is a little hazy as to what he does at such times. If we insist that we are therebyappointmentIthinkhewillhardlyventure tocontradictus. Haveyoutheeffronterynecessaryto putitthrough?” “Wecanbuttry.” “Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee andExcelsior. Wecanbuttry—themottoofthefirm.</s>Afriendlynativewillsurelyguideus.” Suchaoneonthebackofasmarthansomswept uspastarowofancientcollegesand,finallyturning into a tree-lined drive, pulled up at the door of a charminghouse,girtroundwithlawnsandcovered withpurplewisteria. ProfessorPresburywascertainly surroundedwitheverysignnotonlyofcomfortbut of luxury. Even as we pulled up, a grizzled head appearedatthefrontwindow,andwewereawareof apairofkeeneyesfromundershaggybrowswhich surveyed us through large horn glasses. A moment laterwewereactuallyinhissanctum,andthemyste- riousscientist,whosevagarieshadbroughtusfrom London,wasstandingbeforeus. Therewascertainly nosignofeccentricityeitherinhismannerorappear- ance,forhewasaportly,large-featuredman,grave, tall, and frock-coated, with the dignity of bearing which a lecturer needs. His eyes were his most re- markablefeature,keen,observant,andclevertothe vergeofcunning.</s>Helookedatourcards. “Praysitdown,gentlemen.</s>WhatcanIdoforyou?” Mr.Holmessmiledamiably.</s>“ItwasthequestionwhichIwasabouttoputto you,Professor.” “Tome,sir!” “Possiblythereissomemistake. Iheardthrough asecondpersonthatProfessorPresburyofCamford hadneedofmyservices.” “Oh, indeed!” It seemed to me that there was a malicious sparkle in the intense gray eyes. “You heard that, did you? May I ask the name of your informant?” “I amsorry, Professor, butthe matterwas rather confidential. If I have made a mistake there is no harmdone. Icanonlyexpressmyregret.” “Not at all. I should wish to go further into this matter. Itinterestsme. Haveyouanyscrapofwriting, anyletterortelegram,tobearoutyourassertion?” “No,Ihavenot.” “Ipresumethatyoudonotgosofarastoassert thatIsummonedyou?” “I would rather answer no questions,” said Holmes.</s>“No, I dare say not,” said the professor with as- perity. “However,thatparticularonecanbeanswered veryeasilywithoutyouraid.” Hewalkedacrosstheroomtothebell. OurLon- donfriend,Mr.Bennett,answeredthecall.</s>“Comein,Mr.Bennett. Thesetwogentlemenhave come from London under the impression that they havebeensummoned. Youhandleallmycorrespon- dence. Haveyouanoteofanythinggoingtoaperson namedHolmes?” “No,sir,”Bennettansweredwithaflush.</s>“That is conclusive,” said the professor, glaring angrilyatmycompanion. “Now,sir”—heleanedfor- ward with his two hands upon the table—“it seems tomethatyourpositionisaveryquestionableone.” Holmesshruggedhisshoulders.</s>“I can only repeat that I am sorry that we have madeaneedlessintrusion.” “Hardlyenough,Mr.Holmes!”theoldmancried inahighscreamingvoice,withextraordinarymalig- nancyuponhisface. Hegotbetweenusandthedoor ashespoke,andheshookhistwohandsatuswith furiouspassion. “Youcanhardlygetoutofitsoeasily asthat.”Hisfacewasconvulsed,andhegrinnedand gibberedatusinhissenselessrage. Iamconvinced thatweshouldhavehadtofightourwayoutofthe roomifMr.Bennetthadnotintervened.</s>“MydearProfessor,”hecried,“consideryourpo- sition! Consider the scandal at the university! Mr.</s>Holmes is a well-known man. You cannot possibly treathimwithsuchdiscourtesy.” Sulkily our host—if I may call him so—cleared thepathtothedoor. Weweregladtofindourselves outside the house and in the quiet of the tree-lined drive. Holmesseemedgreatlyamusedbytheepisode.“Ourlearnedfriend’snervesaresomewhatoutof order,” said he. “Perhaps our intrusion was a little crude,andyetwehavegainedthatpersonalcontact whichIdesired. But,dearme,Watson,heissurelyat ourheels. Thevillainstillpursuesus.” Therewerethesoundsofrunningfeetbehind,but itwas,tomyrelief,nottheformidableprofessorbut his assistant who appeared round the curve of the drive. Hecamepantinguptous.</s>“I am so sorry, Mr. Holmes. I wished to apolo- gize.” “Mydearsir,thereisnoneed. Itisallintheway ofprofessionalexperience.” “Ihaveneverseenhiminamoredangerousmood.</s>Buthegrowsmoresinister. Youcanunderstandnow why his daughter and I are alarmed. And yet his mindisperfectlyclear.” “Too clear!” said Holmes. “That was my miscal- culation. Itisevidentthathismemoryismuchmore reliablethanIhadthought. Bytheway,canwe,before wego,seethewindowofMissPresbury’sroom?” Mr.Bennettpushedhiswaythroughsomeshrubs, andwehadaviewofthesideofthehouse.</s>“Itisthere. Thesecondontheleft.” “Dear me, it seems hardly accessible. And yet youwillobservethatthereisacreeperbelowanda water-pipeabovewhichgivesomefoothold.” “Icouldnotclimbitmyself,”saidMr.Bennett.</s>“Very likely. It would certainly be a dangerous exploitforanynormalman.” “TherewasoneotherthingIwishtotellyou,Mr.</s>Holmes. IhavetheaddressofthemaninLondonto whomtheprofessorwrites. Heseemstohavewritten thismorning,andIgotitfromhisblotting-paper. It isanignoblepositionforatrustedsecretary,butwhat elsecanIdo?” Holmes glanced at the paper and put it into his pocket.</s>“Dorak—a curious name. Slavonic, I imagine.</s>Well, it is an important link in the chain. We return toLondonthisafternoon,Mr.Bennett. Iseenogood purpose to be served by our remaining. We cannot arrest the professor because he has done no crime, norcanweplacehimunderconstraint,forhecannot beprovedtobemad. Noactionisasyetpossible.” “Thenwhatoneartharewetodo?” “A little patience, Mr. Bennett. Things will soon develop. Unless I am mistaken, next Tuesday may mark a crisis. Certainly we shall be in Camford on thatday. Meanwhile,thegeneralpositionisundeni- ably unpleasant, and if Miss Presbury can prolong hervisit—” “Thatiseasy.” “Then let her stay till we can assure her that all dangerispast. Meanwhile,lethimhavehiswayand donotcrosshim. Solongasheisinagoodhumour alliswell.” “There he is!” said Bennett in a startled whisper.</s>Lookingbetweenthebrancheswesawthetall,erect figure emerge from the hall door and look around him. Hestoodleaningforward,hishandsswinging straightbeforehim,hisheadturningfromsidetoside.</s>Thesecretarywithalastwaveslippedoffamongthe trees,andwesawhimpresentlyrejoinhisemployer, thetwoenteringthehousetogetherinwhatseemed tobeanimatedandevenexcitedconversation.</s>“Iexpecttheoldgentlemanhasbeenputtingtwo andtwotogether,”saidHolmesaswewalkedhotel- ward. “He struck me as having a particularly clear andlogicalbrainfromthelittleIsawofhim. Explo- sive, no doubt, but then from his point of view he hassomethingtoexplodeaboutifdetectivesareput on his track and he suspects his own household of doingit. IratherfancythatfriendBennettisinforan uncomfortabletime.” Holmes stopped at a post-office and sent off a telegram on our way. The answer reached us in the evening,andhetosseditacrosstome.</s>Have visited the Commercial Road and seen Dorak. Suave person, Bohemian, el- derly. Keepslargegeneralstore.</s>—Mercer.</s>“Mercerissinceyourtime,”saidHolmes. “Heis mygeneralutilitymanwholooksuproutinebusiness.</s>Itwasimportanttoknowsomethingofthemanwith whom our professor was so secretly corresponding.</s>HisnationalityconnectsupwiththePraguevisit.” “Thank goodness that something connects with something,”saidI.“Atpresentweseemtobefaced byalongseriesofinexplicableincidentswithnobear- ing upon each other. For example, what possible connectioncantherebebetweenanangrywolfhound andavisittoBohemia,oreitherofthemwithaman crawlingdownapassageatnight? Astoyourdates, thatisthebiggestmystificationofall.” Holmessmiledandrubbedhishands. Wewere,I maysay,seatedintheoldsitting-roomoftheancient hotel, with a bottle of the famous vintage of which Holmeshadspokenonthetablebetweenus.“Well, now, let us take the dates first,” said he, hisfinger-tipstogetherandhismannerasifhewere addressingaclass. “Thisexcellentyoungman’sdiary showsthattherewastroubleuponJuly2d,andfrom thenonwarditseemstohavebeenatnine-dayinter- vals, with, sofarasIremember, onlyoneexception.</s>ThusthelastoutbreakuponFridaywasonSeptember 3d,whichalsofallsintotheseries,asdidAugust26th, whichprecededit. Thethingisbeyondcoincidence.” Iwasforcedtoagree.</s>“Let us, then, form the provisional theory that everyninedaystheprofessortakessomestrongdrug whichhasapassingbuthighlypoisonouseffect. His naturallyviolentnatureisintensifiedbyit. Helearned totakethisdrugwhilehewasinPrague,andisnow suppliedwithitbyaBohemianintermediaryinLon- don. Thisallhangstogether,Watson!” “Butthedog,thefaceatthewindow,thecreeping maninthepassage?” “Well,well,wehavemadeabeginning. Ishould not expect any fresh developments until next Tues- day. In the meantime we can only keep in touch with friend Bennett and enjoy the amenities of this charmingtown.” InthemorningMr.Bennettslippedroundtobring usthelatestreport. AsHolmeshadimagined,times hadnotbeeneasywithhim. Withoutexactlyaccusing himofbeingresponsibleforourpresence,theprofes- sorhadbeenveryroughandrudeinhisspeech,and evidentlyfeltsomestronggrievance. Thismorninghe wasquitehimselfagain,however,andhaddelivered hisusualbrilliantlecturetoacrowdedclass. “Apart from his queer fits,” said Bennett, “he has actually more energy and vitality than I can ever remember, nor was his brain ever clearer. But it’s not he—it’s neverthemanwhomwehaveknown.” “Idon’tthinkyouhaveanythingtofearnowfora weekatleast,”Holmesanswered. “Iamabusyman, and Dr. Watson has his patients to attend to. Let us agree that we meet here at this hour next Tuesday, andIshallbesurprisedifbeforeweleaveyouagain wearenotabletoexplain,evenifwecannotperhaps put an end to, your troubles. Meanwhile, keep us postedinwhatoccurs.” Isawnothingofmyfriendforthenextfewdays, but on the following Monday evening I had a short note asking me to meet him next day at the train.</s>FromwhathetoldmeaswetravelleduptoCamford all was well, the peace of the professor’s house had beenunruffled,andhisownconductperfectlynormal.</s>This also was the report which was given us by Mr.</s>Bennetthimselfwhenhecalleduponusthatevening atouroldquartersintheChequers. “Heheardfrom hisLondoncorrespondentto-day. Therewasaletter and there was a small packet, each with the cross underthestampwhichwarnedmenottotouchthem.</s>Therehasbeennothingelse.” “That may prove quite enough,” said Holmes grimly. “Now, Mr. Bennett, we shall, I think, come to some conclusion to-night. If my deductions are correct we should have an opportunity of bringing matterstoahead. Inordertodosoitisnecessaryto hold the professor under observation. I would sug- gest, therefore, that you remain awake and on the lookout. Shouldyouhearhimpassyourdoor,donot interrupthim,butfollowhimasdiscreetlyasyoucan.</s>Dr.WatsonandIwillnotbefaroff. Bytheway,where isthekeyofthatlittleboxofwhichyouspoke?” “Uponhiswatch-chain.” “I fancy our researches must lie in that direc- tion. At the worst the lock should not be very formidable. Have you any other able-bodied man onthepremises?” “Thereisthecoachman,Macphail.” “Wheredoeshesleep?” “Overthestables.” “We might possibly want him. Well, we can do no more until we see how things develop. Good- bye—butIexpectthatweshallseeyoubeforemorn- ing.” Itwasnearlymidnightbeforewetookourstation among some bushes immediately opposite the hall door of the professor. It was a fine night, but chilly, andweweregladofourwarmovercoats. Therewas a breeze, and clouds were scudding across the sky, obscuringfromtimetotimethehalf-moon. Itwould have been a dismal vigil were it not for the expec- tation and excitement which carried us along, and the assurance of my comrade that we had probably reached the end of the strange sequence of events whichhadengagedourattention.</s>“Ifthecycleofninedaysholdsgoodthenweshall havetheprofessorathisworstto-night,”saidHolmes.</s>“Thefactthatthesestrangesymptomsbeganafterhis visit to Prague, that he is in secret correspondence withaBohemiandealerinLondon,whopresumably representssomeoneinPrague,andthathereceived a packet from him this very day, all point in one di- rection. What he takes and why he takes it are still beyond our ken, but that it emanates in some way fromPragueisclearenough. Hetakesitunderdefi- nitedirectionswhichregulatethisninth-daysystem,which was the first point which attracted my atten- tion. Buthissymptomsaremostremarkable. Didyou observehisknuckles?” IhadtoconfessthatIdidnot.</s>“Thick and horny in a way which is quite new in my experience. Always look at the hands first, Watson. Then cuffs, trouser-knees, and boots. Very curiousknuckleswhichcanonlybeexplainedbythe modeofprogressionobservedby—”Holmespaused andsuddenlyclappedhishandtohisforehead. “Oh, Watson, Watson, what a fool I have been! It seems incredible,andyetitmustbetrue. Allpointsinone direction. How could I miss seeing the connection ofideas? Thoseknuckles—howcouldIhavepassed thoseknuckles? Andthedog! Andtheivy! It’ssurely time that I disappeared into that little farm of my dreams. Lookout,Watson! Hereheis! Weshallhave thechanceofseeingforourselves.” Thehalldoorhadslowlyopened,andagainstthe lamplitbackgroundwesawthetallfigureofProfes- sorPresbury. Hewascladinhisdressing-gown. As he stood outlined in the doorway he was erect but leaningforwardwithdanglingarms,aswhenwesaw himlast.</s>Now he stepped forward into the drive, and an extraordinarychangecameoverhim. Hesankdown intoacrouchingpositionandmovedalonguponhis handsandfeet,skippingeverynowandthenasifhe wereoverflowingwithenergyandvitality. Hemoved alongthefaceofthehouseandthenroundthecorner.</s>AshedisappearedBennettslippedthroughthehall doorandsoftlyfollowedhim.</s>“Come, Watson, come!” cried Holmes, and we stole as softly as we could through the bushes until wehadgainedaspotwhencewecouldseetheother sideofthehouse,whichwasbathedinthelightofthe half-moon. Theprofessorwasclearlyvisiblecrouch- ingatthefootoftheivy-coveredwall. Aswewatched himhesuddenlybeganwithincredibleagilitytoas- cend it. From branch to branch he sprang, sure of footandfirmofgrasp,climbingapparentlyinmere joyathisownpowers,withnodefiniteobjectinview.</s>Withhisdressing-gownflappingoneachsideofhim, helookedlikesomehugebatgluedagainsttheside ofhisownhouse,agreatsquaredarkpatchuponthe moonlit wall. Presently he tired of this amusement, and, dropping from branch to branch, he squatted down into the old attitude and moved towards the stables, creeping along in the same strange way as before. The wolfhound was out now, barking furi- ously, and more excited than ever when it actually caughtsightofitsmaster. Itwasstrainingonitschain andquiveringwitheagernessandrage. Theprofessor squatteddownverydeliberatelyjustoutofreachof the hound and began to provoke it in every possi- bleway. Hetookhandfulsofpebblesfromthedrive andthrewtheminthedog’sface,proddedhimwith a stick which he had picked up, flicked his hands aboutonlyafewinchesfromthegapingmouth,and endeavoured in every way to increase the animal’s fury,whichwasalreadybeyondallcontrol. Inallour adventuresIdonotknowthatIhaveeverseenamore strange sight than this impassive and still dignified figurecrouchingfrog-likeuponthegroundandgoad- ing to a wilder exhibition of passion the maddened hound,whichrampedandragedinfrontofhim,by allmannerofingeniousandcalculatedcruelty.</s>And then in a moment it happened! It was not thechainthatbroke,butitwasthecollarthatslipped, for it had been made for a thick-necked Newfound- land. Weheardtherattleoffallingmetal,andthenext instant dog and man were rolling on the ground to- gether,theoneroaringinrage,theotherscreamingin astrangeshrillfalsettoofterror. Itwasaverynarrow thingfortheprofessor’slife. Thesavagecreaturehad himfairlybythethroat,itsfangshadbittendeep,and hewassenselessbeforewecouldreachthemanddrag the two apart. It might have been a dangerous task forus,butBennett’svoiceandpresencebroughtthe greatwolfhoundinstantlytoreason. Theuproarhad broughtthesleepyandastonishedcoachmanfromhis roomabovethestables. “I’mnotsurprised,”saidhe, shakinghishead. “I’veseenhimatitbefore. Iknew thedogwouldgethimsoonerorlater.” Thehoundwassecured,andtogetherwecarried the professor up to his room, where Bennett, who had a medical degree, helped me to dress his torn throat. Thesharpteethhadpasseddangerouslynear thecarotidartery,andthehaemorrhagewasserious.</s>Inhalfanhourthedangerwaspast,Ihadgiventhe patientaninjectionofmorphia,andhehadsunkinto deepsleep. Then,andonlythen,wereweabletolook ateachotherandtotakestockofthesituation.</s>“Ithinkafirst-classsurgeonshouldseehim,”said I.</s>“ForGod’ssake,no!”criedBennett. “Atpresent the scandal is confined to our own household. It is safe with us. If it gets beyond these walls it will neverstop. Considerhispositionattheuniversity,his Europeanreputation,thefeelingsofhisdaughter.” “Quiteso,”saidHolmes. “Ithinkitmaybequite possibletokeepthemattertoourselves,andalsotopreventitsrecurrencenowthatwehaveafreehand.</s>Thekeyfromthewatch-chain,Mr.Bennett. Macphail willguardthepatientandletusknowifthereisany change. Letusseewhatwecanfindintheprofessor’s mysteriousbox.” There was not much, but there was enough—an empty phial, another nearly full, a hypodermic sy- ringe,severallettersinacrabbed,foreignhand. The marksontheenvelopesshowedthattheywerethose which had disturbed the routine of the secretary, andeachwasdatedfromtheCommercialRoadand signed “A. Dorak.” They were mere invoices to say that a fresh bottle was being sent to Professor Pres- bury,orreceipttoacknowledgemoney. Therewasone other envelope, however, in a more educated hand andbearingtheAustrianstampwiththepostmarkof Prague. “Herewehaveourmaterial!”criedHolmes ashetoreouttheenclosure.</s>HonouredColleague[itran]: SinceyouresteemedvisitIhavethought muchofyourcase,andthoughinyourcir- cumstancestherearesomespecialreasons for the treatment, I would none the less enjoincaution,asmyresultshaveshown thatitisnotwithoutdangerofakind.</s>It is possible that the serum of anthro- poid would have been better. I have, as I explainedtoyou,usedblack-facedlangur because a specimen was accessible. Lan- gur is, of course, a crawler and climber, whileanthropoidwalkserectandisinall waysnearer.</s>Ibegyoutotakeeverypossibleprecau- tionthattherebenoprematurerevelation of the process. I have one other client in England,andDorakismyagentforboth.</s>Weeklyreportswilloblige.</s>—Yourswithhighesteem, H.Lowenstein.</s>Lowenstein! The name brought back to me the memory of some snippet from a newspaper which spokeofanobscurescientistwhowasstrivinginsome unknown way for the secret of rejuvenescence and the elixir of life. Lowenstein of Prague! Lowenstein with the wondrous strength-giving serum, tabooed by the profession because he refused to reveal its source. InafewwordsIsaidwhatIremembered. Ben- netthadtakenamanualofzoologyfromtheshelves.</s>“‘Langur,’”heread,“‘thegreatblack-facedmonkey oftheHimalayanslopes,biggestandmosthumanof climbing monkeys.’ Many details are added. Well, thanks to you, Mr. Holmes, it is very clear that we havetracedtheeviltoitssource.” “Therealsource,”saidHolmes,“lies,ofcourse,in thatuntimelyloveaffairwhichgaveourimpetuous professor the idea that he could only gain his wish by turning himself into a younger man. When one tries to rise above Nature one is liable to fall below it. The highest type of man may revert to the ani- malifheleavesthestraightroadofdestiny.”Hesat musing for a little with the phial in his hand, look- ingattheclearliquidwithin. “WhenIhavewritten to this man and told him that I hold him criminally responsible for the poisons which he circulates, we will have no more trouble. But it may recur. Others mayfindabetterway. Thereisdangerthere—avery realdangertohumanity. Consider,Watson,thatthe material,thesensual,theworldlywouldallprolong their worthless lives. The spiritual would not avoid thecalltosomethinghigher. Itwouldbethesurvival of the least fit. What sort of cesspool may not our poor world become?” Suddenly the dreamer disap- peared,andHolmes,themanofaction,sprangfrom hischair. “Ithinkthereisnothingmoretobesaid,Mr.</s>Bennett. Thevariousincidentswillnowfitthemselves easily into the general scheme. The dog, of course, was aware of the change far more quickly than you.</s>Hissmellwouldinsurethat. Itwasthemonkey,not theprofessor,whomRoyattacked,justasitwasthe monkey who teased Roy. Climbing was a joy to the creature,anditwasamerechance,Itakeit,thatthe pastime brought him to the young lady’s window.</s>Thereisanearlytraintotown,Watson,butIthinkwe shall just have time for a cup of tea at the Chequers beforewecatchit.”t is a most singular thing that a problem which was certainly as abstruse and un- usualasanywhichIhavefacedinmylong I professionalcareershouldhavecometome after my retirement, and be brought, as it were, to my very door. It occurred after my withdrawal to my little Sussex home, when I had given myself up entirelytothatsoothinglifeofNatureforwhichIhad so often yearned during the long years spent amid the gloom of London. At this period of my life the goodWatsonhadpassedalmostbeyondmyken. An occasional week-end visit was the most that I ever saw of him. Thus I must act as my own chronicler.</s>Ah! had he but been with me, how much he might have made of so wonderful a happening and of my eventual triumph against every difficulty! As it is, however, I must needs tell my tale in my own plain way,showingbymywordseachstepuponthediffi- cult road which lay before me as I searched for the mysteryoftheLion’sMane.</s>My villa is situated upon the southern slope of the downs, commanding a great view of the Chan- nel. At this point the coast-line is entirely of chalk cliffs,whichcanonlybedescendedbyasingle,long, tortuous path, which is steep and slippery. At the bottomofthepathlieahundredyardsofpebblesand shingle,evenwhenthetideisatfull. Hereandthere, however, there are curves and hollows which make splendidswimming-poolsfilledafreshwitheachflow.</s>Thisadmirablebeachextendsforsomemilesineach direction,saveonlyatonepointwherethelittlecove andvillageofFulworthbreaktheline.</s>Myhouseislonely. I,myoldhousekeeper,andmy beeshavetheestatealltoourselves. Halfamileoff, however,isHaroldStackhurst’swell-knowncoaching establishment,TheGables,quitealargeplace,which contains some score of young fellows preparing for various professions, with a staff of several masters.</s>Stackhursthimselfwasawell-knownrowingBluein hisday,andanexcellentall-roundscholar. HeandI werealwaysfriendlyfromthedayIcametothecoast, and he was the one man who was on such terms with me that we could drop in on each other in the eveningswithoutaninvitation.</s>TowardstheendofJuly,1907,therewasasevere gale,thewindblowingup-channel,heapingtheseas to the base of the cliffs and leaving a lagoon at the turnofthetide. OnthemorningofwhichIspeakthe windhadabated,andallNaturewasnewlywashed andfresh. Itwasimpossibletoworkuponsodelight- fuladay,andIstrolledoutbeforebreakfasttoenjoy theexquisiteair. Iwalkedalongthecliffpathwhich led to the steep descent to the beach. As I walked I heard a shout behind me, and there was Harold Stackhurstwavinghishandincheerygreeting.</s>“Whatamorning,Mr.Holmes! IthoughtIshould seeyouout.” “Goingforaswim,Isee.” “Atyouroldtricksagain,”helaughed,pattinghis bulgingpocket. “Yes. McPhersonstartedearly,andI expectImayfindhimthere.” FitzroyMcPhersonwasthesciencemaster,afine upstanding young fellow whose life had been crip- pledbyhearttroublefollowingrheumaticfever. He wasanaturalathlete,however,andexcelledinevery game which did not throw too great a strain upon him. Summerandwinterhewentforhisswim,and, asIamaswimmermyself,Ihaveoftenjoinedhim.</s>At this moment we saw the man himself. His head showed above the edge of the cliff where the pathends. Thenhiswholefigureappearedatthetop, staggering like a drunken man. The next instant he threwuphishandsand,withaterriblecry,fellupon his face. Stackhurst and I rushed forward—it may have been fifty yards—and turned him on his back.</s>Hewasobviouslydying. Thoseglazedsunkeneyes and dreadful livid cheeks could mean nothing else.</s>Oneglimmeroflifecameintohisfaceforaninstant, andheutteredtwoorthreewordswithaneagerair of warning. They were slurred and indistinct, but to my ear the last of them, which burst in a shriek fromhislips,were“theLion’sMane.”Itwasutterly irrelevantandunintelligible,andyetIcouldtwistthe soundintonoothersense. Thenhehalfraisedhimself fromtheground,threwhisarmsintotheair,andfell forwardonhisside. Hewasdead.</s>Mycompanionwasparalyzedbythesuddenhor- ror of it, but I, as may well be imagined, had every senseonthealert. AndIhadneed,foritwasspeedily evidentthatwewereinthepresenceofanextraordi- narycase. ThemanwasdressedonlyinhisBurberry overcoat,histrousers,andanunlacedpairofcanvas shoes. Ashefellover,hisBurberry,whichhadbeen simply thrown round his shoulders, slipped off, ex- posinghistrunk. Westaredatitinamazement. His back was covered with dark red lines as though he hadbeenterriblyfloggedbyathinwirescourge. The instrumentwithwhichthispunishmenthadbeenin- flictedwasclearlyflexible,forthelong,angryweals curvedroundhisshouldersandribs. Therewasblood drippingdownhischin,forhehadbittenthroughhis lower lip in the paroxysm of his agony. His drawn and distorted face told how terrible that agony had been.I was kneeling and Stackhurst standing by the body when a shadow fell across us, and we found that Ian Murdoch was by our side. Murdoch was the mathematical coach at the establishment, a tall, dark, thin man, so taciturn and aloof that none can besaidtohavebeenhisfriend. Heseemedtolivein somehigh,abstractregionofsurdsandconicsections, withlittletoconnecthimwithordinarylife. Hewas lookeduponasanodditybythestudents,andwould havebeentheirbutt,buttherewassomestrangeout- landish blood in the man, which showed itself not onlyinhiscoal-blackeyesandswarthyfacebutalso inoccasionaloutbreaksoftemper,whichcouldonly be described as ferocious. On one occasion, being plagued by a little dog belonging to McPherson, he hadcaughtthecreatureupandhurleditthroughthe plate-glass window, an action for which Stackhurst would certainly have given him his dismissal had he not been a very valuable teacher. Such was the strangecomplexmanwhonowappearedbesideus.</s>Heseemedtobehonestlyshockedatthesightbefore him, though the incident of the dog may show that therewasnogreatsympathybetweenthedeadman andhimself.</s>“Poor fellow! Poor fellow! What can I do? How canIhelp?” “Were you with him? Can you tell us what has happened?” “No,no,Iwaslatethismorning. Iwasnotonthe beach at all. I have come straight from The Gables.</s>WhatcanIdo?” “Youcanhurrytothepolice-stationatFulworth.</s>Reportthematteratonce.” Without a word he made off at top speed, and I proceeded to take the matter in hand, while Stack- hurst, dazed at this tragedy, remained by the body.</s>My first task naturally was to note who was on the beach. FromthetopofthepathIcouldseethewhole sweepofit,anditwasabsolutelydesertedsavethat twoorthreedarkfigurescouldbeseenfarawaymov- ingtowardsthevillageofFulworth. Havingsatisfied myself upon this point, I walked slowly down the path. There was clay or soft marl mixed with the chalk,andeveryhereandthereIsawthesamefoot- step, both ascending and descending. No one else hadgonedowntothebeachbythistrackthatmorn- ing. At one place I observed the print of an open handwiththefingerstowardstheincline. Thiscould onlymeanthatpoorMcPhersonhadfallenasheas- cended. Therewereroundeddepressions,too,which suggested that he had come down upon his knees more than once. At the bottom of the path was the considerable lagoon left by the retreating tide. At thesideofitMcPhersonhadundressed,fortherelay his towel on a rock. It was folded and dry, so that it would seem that, after all, he had never entered thewater. OnceortwiceasIhuntedroundamidthe hard shingle I came on little patches of sand where the print of his canvas shoe, and also of his naked foot,couldbeseen. Thelatterfactprovedthathehad madeallreadytobathe,thoughthetowelindicated thathehadnotactuallydoneso.</s>And here was the problem clearly defined—as strange a one as had ever confronted me. The man hadnotbeenonthebeachmorethanaquarterofan houratthemost. Stackhursthadfollowedhimfrom The Gables, so there could be no doubt about that.</s>Hehadgonetobatheandhadstripped,asthenaked footsteps showed. Then he had suddenly huddled on his clothes again—they were all dishevelled and unfastened—andhehadreturnedwithoutbathing,or at any rate without drying himself. And the reason forhischangeofpurposehadbeenthathehadbeen scourgedinsomesavage,inhumanfashion,tortured untilhebithislipthroughinhisagony,andwasleft withonlystrengthenoughtocrawlawayandtodie.</s>Whohaddonethisbarbarousdeed? Therewere,itis true,smallgrottosandcavesinthebaseofthecliffs, but the low sun shone directly into them, and there wasnoplaceforconcealment. Then,again,therewere thosedistantfiguresonthebeach. Theyseemedtoo farawaytohavebeenconnectedwiththecrime,and thebroadlagooninwhichMcPhersonhadintended tobathelaybetweenhimandthem,lappinguptothe rocks. Ontheseatwoorthreefishing-boatswereat nogreatdistance. Theiroccupantsmightbeexamined at our leisure. There were several roads for inquiry, butnonewhichledtoanyveryobviousgoal.</s>WhenIatlastreturnedtothebodyIfoundthata littlegroupofwonderingfolkhadgatheredroundit.</s>Stackhurstwas,ofcourse,stillthere,andIanMurdoch hadjustarrivedwithAnderson,thevillageconstable, abig,ginger-moustachedmanoftheslow,solidSus- sex breed—a breed which covers much good sense under a heavy, silent exterior. He listened to every- thing, took note of all we said, and finally drew me aside.</s>“I’d be glad of your advice, Mr. Holmes. This is abigthingformetohandle,andI’llhearofitfrom LewesifIgowrong.” Iadvisedhimtosendforhisimmediatesuperior, andforadoctor;alsotoallownothingtobemoved, and as few fresh footmarks as possible to be made,untiltheycame. InthemeantimeIsearchedthedead man’spockets. Therewerehishandkerchief,alarge knife, and a small folding card-case. From this pro- jectedaslipofpaper,whichIunfoldedandhandedto theconstable. Therewaswrittenonitinascrawling, femininehand: Iwillbethere,youmaybesure.</s>—Maudie.</s>It read like a love affair, an assignation, though when and where were a blank. The constable re- placed it in the card-case and returned it with the otherthingstothepocketsoftheBurberry. Then,as nothing more suggested itself, I walked back to my house for breakfast, having first arranged that the baseofthecliffsshouldbethoroughlysearched.</s>Stackhurst was round in an hour or two to tell me that the body had been removed to The Gables, where the inquest would be held. He brought with him some serious and definite news. As I expected, nothing had been found in the small caves below thecliff,buthehadexaminedthepapersinMcPher- son’sdesk,andtherewereseveralwhichshowedan intimate correspondence with a certain Miss Maud Bellamy, of Fulworth. We had then established the identityofthewriterofthenote.</s>“The police have the letters,” he explained. “I could not bring them. But there is no doubt that it wasaseriousloveaffair. Iseenoreason,however,to connectitwiththathorriblehappeningsave,indeed, thattheladyhadmadeanappointmentwithhim.” “But hardly at a bathing-pool which all of you wereinthehabitofusing,”Iremarked.</s>“It is mere chance,” said he, “that several of the studentswerenotwithMcPherson.” “Wasitmerechance?” Stackhurstknithisbrowsinthought.</s>“Ian Murdoch held them back,” said he. “He wouldinsistuponsomealgebraicdemonstrationbe- fore breakfast. Poor chap, he is dreadfully cut up aboutitall.” “AndyetIgatherthattheywerenotfriends.” “Atonetimetheywerenot. Butforayearormore Murdoch has been as near to McPherson as he ever couldbetoanyone. Heisnotofaverysympathetic dispositionbynature.” “SoIunderstand. Iseemtorememberyourtelling meonceaboutaquarrelovertheill-usageofadog.” “Thatblewoverallright.” “Butleftsomevindictivefeeling,perhaps.” “No,no,Iamsuretheywererealfriends.” “Well,then,wemustexplorethematterofthegirl.</s>Doyouknowher?” “Everyone knows her. She is the beauty of the neighbourhood—arealbeauty,Holmes,whowould drawattentioneverywhere. IknewthatMcPherson wasattractedbyher,butIhadnonotionthatithad gonesofarastheseletterswouldseemtoindicate.” “Butwhoisshe?” “She is the daughter of old Tom Bellamy, who ownsalltheboatsandbathing-cotsatFulworth. He was a fisherman to start with, but is now a man of some substance. He and his son William run the business.” “ShallwewalkintoFulworthandseethem?” “Onwhatpretext?” “Oh, we can easily find a pretext. After all, this poor man did not ill-use himself in this outrageous way. Some human hand was on the handle of that scourge, if indeed it was a scourge which inflicted theinjuries. Hiscircleofacquaintancesinthislonely placewassurelylimited. Letusfollowitupinevery direction and we can hardly fail to come upon the motive,whichinturnshouldleadustothecriminal.” It would have been a pleasant walk across the thyme-scented downs had our minds not been poi- sonedbythetragedywehadwitnessed. Thevillage of Fulworth lies in a hollow curving in a semicircle roundthebay. Behindtheold-fashionedhamletsev- eralmodernhouseshavebeenbuiltupontherising ground. ItwastooneofthesethatStackhurstguided me.</s>“That’sTheHaven,asBellamycalledit. Theone with the corner tower and slate roof. Not bad for a manwhostartedwithnothingbut—ByJove,lookat that!” ThegardengateofTheHavenhadopenedanda manhademerged. Therewasnomistakingthattall, angular, straggling figure. It was Ian Murdoch, the mathematician. Amomentlaterweconfrontedhim upontheroad.</s>“Hullo!”saidStackhurst. Themannodded,gave usasidewaysglancefromhiscuriousdarkeyes,and would have passed us, but his principal pulled him up.</s>“Whatwereyoudoingthere?”heasked.</s>Murdoch’s face flushed with anger. “I am your subordinate,sir,underyourroof. Iamnotawarethat Ioweyouanyaccountofmyprivateactions.”Stackhurst’snerveswerenearthesurfaceafterall hehadendured. Otherwise,perhaps,hewouldhave waited. Nowhelosthistempercompletely.</s>“Inthecircumstancesyouranswerispureimper- tinence,Mr.Murdoch.” “Your own question might perhaps come under thesameheading.” “ThisisnotthefirsttimethatIhavehadtoover- lookyourinsubordinateways. Itwillcertainlybethe last. You will kindly make fresh arrangements for yourfutureasspeedilyasyoucan.” “I had intended to do so. I have lost to-day the onlypersonwhomadeTheGableshabitable.” Hestrodeoffuponhisway,whileStackhurst,with angry eyes, stood glaring after him. “Is he not an impossible,intolerableman?”hecried.</s>Theonethingthatimpresseditselfforciblyupon my mind was that Mr. Ian Murdoch was taking the firstchancetoopenapathofescapefromthesceneof thecrime. Suspicion,vagueandnebulous,wasnow beginning to take outline in my mind. Perhaps the visittotheBellamysmightthrowsomefurtherlight uponthematter. Stackhurstpulledhimselftogether, andwewentforwardtothehouse.</s>Mr.Bellamyprovedtobeamiddle-agedmanwith aflamingredbeard. Heseemedtobeinaveryangry mood,andhisfacewassoonasfloridashishair.</s>“No, sir, I do not desire any particulars. My son here”—indicating a powerful young man, with a heavy, sullen face, in the corner of the sitting- room—“isofonemindwithmethatMr.McPherson’s attentionstoMaudwereinsulting. Yes,sir,theword ‘marriage’wasnevermentioned,andyettherewere lettersandmeetings,andagreatdealmoreofwhich neitherofuscouldapprove. Shehasnomother,and weareheronlyguardians. Wearedetermined—” Butthewordsweretakenfromhismouthbythe appearance of the lady herself. There was no gain- saying that she would have graced any assembly in the world. Who could have imagined that so rare a flowerwouldgrowfromsucharootandinsuchan atmosphere? Womenhaveseldombeenanattraction to me, for my brain has always governed my heart, but I could not look upon her perfect clear-cut face, with all the soft freshness of the downlands in her delicate colouring, without realizing that no young manwouldcrossherpathunscathed. Suchwasthe girl who had pushed open the door and stood now, wide-eyedandintense,infrontofHaroldStackhurst.</s>“I know already that Fitzroy is dead,” she said.</s>“Donotbeafraidtotellmetheparticulars.” “This other gentleman of yours let us know the news,”explainedthefather.</s>“There is no reason why my sister should be broughtintothematter,”growledtheyoungerman.</s>The sister turned a sharp, fierce look upon him.</s>“This is my business, William. Kindly leave me to manageitinmyownway. Byallaccountstherehas been a crime committed. If I can help to show who didit,itistheleastIcandoforhimwhoisgone.” Shelistenedtoashortaccountfrommycompan- ion,withacomposedconcentrationwhichshowedme that she possessed strong character as well as great beauty. Maud Bellamy will always remain in my memoryasamostcompleteandremarkablewoman.</s>It seems that she already knew me by sight, for she turnedtomeattheend.</s>“Bringthemtojustice,Mr.Holmes. Youhavemy sympathy and my help, whoever they may be.” It seemedtomethatsheglanceddefiantlyatherfather andbrotherasshespoke.</s>“Thankyou,”saidI.“Ivalueawoman’sinstinct in such matters. You use the word ‘they.’ You think thatmorethanonewasconcerned?” “IknewMr.McPhersonwellenoughtobeaware thathewasabraveandastrongman. Nosingleper- son could ever have inflicted such an outrage upon him.” “MightIhaveonewordwithyoualone?” “I tell you, Maud, not to mix yourself up in the matter,”criedherfatherangrily.</s>Shelookedatmehelplessly. “WhatcanIdo?” “Thewholeworldwillknowthefactspresently,so therecanbenoharmifIdiscussthemhere,”saidI.“I shouldhavepreferredprivacy,butifyourfatherwill notallowithemustsharethedeliberations.”ThenI spokeofthenotewhichhadbeenfoundinthedead man’spocket. “Itissuretobeproducedattheinquest.</s>May I ask you to throw any light upon it that you can?” “Iseenoreasonformystery,”sheanswered. “We wereengagedtobemarried,andweonlykeptitse- cretbecauseFitzroy’suncle,whoisveryoldandsaid to be dying, might have disinherited him if he had marriedagainsthiswish. Therewasnootherreason.” “Youcouldhavetoldus,”growledMr.Bellamy.</s>“SoIwould,father,ifyouhadevershownsympa- thy.” “Iobjecttomygirlpickingupwithmenoutside herownstation.”“It was your prejudice against him which pre- vented us from telling you. As to this appoint- ment”—she fumbled in her dress and produced a crumplednote—“itwasinanswertothis.” Dearest[ranthemessage]: Theoldplaceonthebeachjustaftersun- set on Tuesday. It is the only time I can getaway.</s>—F.M.</s>“Tuesday was to-day, and I had meant to meet himto-night.” Iturnedoverthepaper. “Thisnevercamebypost.</s>Howdidyougetit?” “I would rather not answer that question. It has really nothing to do with the matter which you are investigating. ButanythingwhichbearsuponthatI willmostfreelyanswer.” Shewasasgoodasherword,buttherewasnoth- ingwhichwashelpfulinourinvestigation. Shehad no reason to think that her fiance had any hidden enemy, but she admitted that she had had several warmadmirers.</s>“MayIaskifMr.IanMurdochwasoneofthem?” Sheblushedandseemedconfused.</s>“There was a time when I thought he was. But that was all changed when he understood the rela- tionsbetweenFitzroyandmyself.” Againtheshadowroundthisstrangemanseemed to me to be taking more definite shape. His record must be examined. His rooms must be privately searched. Stackhurst was a willing collaborator, for in his mind also suspicions were forming. We re- turned from our visit to The Haven with the hope thatonefreeendofthistangledskeinwasalreadyin ourhands.</s>Aweekpassed. Theinquesthadthrownnolight upon the matter and had been adjourned for fur- therevidence. Stackhursthadmadediscreetinquiry abouthissubordinate,andtherehadbeenasuperfi- cialsearchofhisroom,butwithoutresult. Personally, Ihadgoneoverthewholegroundagain,bothphysi- callyandmentally,butwithnonewconclusions. In allmychroniclesthereaderwillfindnocasewhich broughtmesocompletelytothelimitofmypowers.</s>Even my imagination could conceive no solution to themystery. Andthentherecametheincidentofthe dog.</s>It was my old housekeeper who heard of it first bythatstrangewirelessbywhichsuchpeoplecollect thenewsofthecountryside.</s>“Sadstorythis,sir,aboutMr.McPherson’sdog,” saidsheoneevening.</s>I do not encourage such conversations, but the wordsarrestedmyattention.</s>“WhatofMr.McPherson’sdog?” “Dead,sir. Diedofgriefforitsmaster.” “Whotoldyouthis?” “Why,sir,everyoneistalkingofit. Ittookonter- rible,andhaseatennothingforaweek. Thento-day twooftheyounggentlemenfromTheGablesfoundit dead—downonthebeach,sir,attheveryplacewhere itsmastermethisend.” “Attheveryplace.”Thewordsstoodoutclearin my memory. Some dim perception that the matter wasvitalroseinmymind. Thatthedogshoulddie was after the beautiful, faithful nature of dogs. But “in the very place”! Why should this lonely beach be fatal to it? Was it possible that it also had been sacrificedtosomerevengefulfeud? Wasitpossible—? Yes,theperceptionwasdim,butalreadysomething wasbuildingupinmymind. InafewminutesIwas onmywaytoTheGables,whereIfoundStackhurst inhisstudy. AtmyrequesthesentforSudburyand Blount,thetwostudentswhohadfoundthedog.</s>“Yes,itlayontheveryedgeofthepool,”saidone ofthem. “Itmusthavefollowedthetrailofitsdead master.” Isawthefaithfullittlecreature,anAiredaleterrier, laidoutuponthematinthehall. Thebodywasstiff andrigid,theeyesprojecting,andthelimbscontorted.</s>Therewasagonyineverylineofit.</s>From The Gables I walked down to the bathing- pool. Thesunhadsunkandtheshadowofthegreat clifflayblackacrossthewater,whichglimmereddully likeasheetoflead. Theplacewasdesertedandthere wasnosignoflifesavefortwosea-birdscirclingand screamingoverhead. InthefadinglightIcoulddimly makeoutthelittledog’sspooruponthesandround theveryrockonwhichhismaster’stowelhadbeen laid. ForalongtimeIstoodindeepmeditationwhile theshadowsgrewdarkeraroundme. Mymindwas filledwithracingthoughts. Youhaveknownwhatit wastobeinanightmareinwhichyoufeelthatthere issomeall-importantthingforwhichyousearchand which you know is there, though it remains forever just beyond your reach. That was how I felt thateveningasIstoodalonebythatplaceofdeath. Then atlastIturnedandwalkedslowlyhomeward.</s>I had just reached the top of the path when it cametome. Likeaflash,Irememberedthethingfor whichIhadsoeagerlyandvainlygrasped. Youwill know,orWatsonhaswritteninvain,thatIholdavast storeofout-of-the-wayknowledgewithoutscientific system,butveryavailablefortheneedsofmywork.</s>My mind is like a crowded box-room with packets ofallsortsstowedawaytherein—somanythatImay wellhavebutavagueperceptionofwhatwasthere.</s>Ihadknownthattherewassomethingwhichmight bearuponthismatter. Itwasstillvague,butatleast IknewhowIcouldmakeitclear. Itwasmonstrous, incredible,andyetitwasalwaysapossibility. Iwould testittothefull.</s>There is a great garret in my little house which isstuffedwithbooks. ItwasintothisthatIplunged andrummagedforanhour. Attheendofthattime I emerged with a little chocolate and silver volume.</s>EagerlyIturnedupthechapterofwhichIhadadim remembrance. Yes, it was indeed a far-fetched and unlikely proposition, and yet I could not be at rest untilIhadmadesureifitmight,indeed,beso. Itwas late when I retired, with my mind eagerly awaiting theworkofthemorrow.</s>Butthatworkmetwithanannoyinginterruption.</s>Ihadhardlyswallowedmyearlycupofteaandwas startingforthebeachwhenIhadacallfromInspector Bardle of the Sussex Constabulary—a steady, solid, bovinemanwiththoughtfuleyes,whichlookedatme nowwithaverytroubledexpression.</s>“I know your immense experience, sir,” said he.</s>“This is quite unofficial, of course, and need go no farther. ButIamfairlyupagainstitinthisMcPherson case. Thequestionis,shallImakeanarrest,orshallI not?” “MeaningMr.IanMurdoch?” “Yes, sir. There is really no one else when you cometothinkofit. That’stheadvantageofthissoli- tude. Wenarrowitdowntoaverysmallcompass. If hedidnotdoit,thenwhodid?” “Whathaveyouagainsthim?” He had gleaned along the same furrows as I had. TherewasMurdoch’scharacterandthemystery which seemed to hang round the man. His furious burstsoftemper,asshownintheincidentofthedog.</s>The fact that he had quarrelled with McPherson in thepast,andthattherewassomereasontothinkthat hemighthaveresentedhisattentionstoMissBellamy.</s>He had all my points, but no fresh ones, save that Murdochseemedtobemakingeverypreparationfor departure.</s>“WhatwouldmypositionbeifIlethimslipaway withallthisevidenceagainsthim?”Theburly,phleg- maticmanwassorelytroubledinhismind.</s>“Consider,”Isaid,“alltheessentialgapsinyour case. Onthemorningofthecrimehecansurelyprove an alibi. He had been with his scholars till the last moment, and within a few minutes of McPherson’s appearance he came upon us from behind. Then bearinmindtheabsoluteimpossibilitythathecould single-handedhaveinflictedthisoutrageuponaman quiteasstrongashimself. Finally,thereisthisques- tionoftheinstrumentwithwhichtheseinjurieswere inflicted.” “Whatcoulditbebutascourgeorflexiblewhip ofsomesort?” “Haveyouexaminedthemarks?”Iasked.</s>“Ihaveseenthem. Sohasthedoctor.” “ButIhaveexaminedthemverycarefullywitha lens. Theyhavepeculiarities.” “Whatarethey,Mr.Holmes?” I stepped to my bureau and brought out an en- larged photograph. “This is my method in such cases,”Iexplained.</s>“Youcertainlydothingsthoroughly,Mr.Holmes.” “IshouldhardlybewhatIamifIdidnot. Nowlet usconsiderthiswealwhichextendsroundtheright shoulder. Doyouobservenothingremarkable?” “Ican’tsayIdo.” “Surelyitisevidentthatitisunequalinitsinten- sity. There is a dot of extravasated blood here, and another there. There are similar indications in this otherwealdownhere. Whatcanthatmean?” “Ihavenoidea. Haveyou?” “PerhapsIhave. PerhapsIhaven’t. Imaybeable tosaymoresoon. Anythingwhichwilldefinewhat madethatmarkwillbringusalongwaytowardsthe criminal.” “Itis,ofcourse,anabsurdidea,”saidthepolice- man,“butifared-hotnetofwirehadbeenlaidacross theback,thenthesebettermarkedpointswouldrep- resentwherethemeshescrossedeachother.” “Amostingeniouscomparison. Orshallwesaya verystiffcat-o’-nine-tailswithsmallhardknotsupon it?” “ByJove,Mr.Holmes,Ithinkyouhavehitit.” “Or there may be some very different cause, Mr.</s>Bardle. Butyourcaseisfartooweakforanarrest. Be- sides,wehavethoselastwords—the‘Lion’sMane.’”“IhavewonderedwhetherIan—” “Yes, I have considered that. If the second word hadborneanyresemblancetoMurdoch—butitdid not. He gave it almost in a shriek. I am sure that it was‘Mane.’” “Haveyounoalternative,Mr.Holmes?” “Perhaps I have. But I do not care to discuss it untilthereissomethingmoresolidtodiscuss.” “Andwhenwillthatbe?” “Inanhour—possiblyless.” The inspector rubbed his chin and looked at me withdubiouseyes.</s>“I wish I could see what was in your mind, Mr.</s>Holmes. Perhapsit’sthosefishing-boats.” “No,no,theyweretoofarout.” “Well,then,isitBellamyandthatbigsonofhis? TheywerenottoosweetuponMr.McPherson. Could theyhavedonehimamischief?” “No, no, you won’t draw me until I am ready,” said I with a smile. “Now, Inspector, we each have ourownworktodo. Perhapsifyouweretomeetme hereatmidday—” So far we had got when there came the tremen- dous interruption which was the beginning of the end.</s>Myouterdoorwasflungopen,therewereblunder- ing footsteps in the passage, and Ian Murdoch stag- gered into the room, pallid, dishevelled, his clothes inwilddisorder,clawingwithhisbonyhandsatthe furnituretoholdhimselferect. “Brandy! Brandy!”he gasped,andfellgroaninguponthesofa.</s>He was not alone. Behind him came Stackhurst, hatlessandpanting,almostasdistraitashiscompan- ion.</s>“Yes, yes, brandy!” he cried. “The man is at his lastgasp. ItwasallIcoulddotobringhimhere. He faintedtwiceupontheway.” Half a tumbler of the raw spirit brought about a wondrouschange. Hepushedhimselfupononearm and swung his coat from his shoulders. “For God’s sake, oil, opium, morphia!” he cried. “Anything to easethisinfernalagony!” TheinspectorandIcriedoutatthesight. There, crisscrossedupontheman’snakedshoulder,wasthe samestrangereticulatedpatternofred,inflamedlines whichhadbeenthedeath-markofFitzroyMcPherson.</s>The pain was evidently terrible and was more thanlocal,forthesufferer’sbreathingwouldstopfor atime,hisfacewouldturnblack,andthenwithloud gaspshewouldclaphishandtohisheart,whilehis brow dropped beads of sweat. At any moment he mightdie. Moreandmorebrandywaspoureddown histhroat,eachfreshdosebringinghimbacktolife.</s>Pads of cotton-wool soaked in salad-oil seemed to taketheagonyfromthestrangewounds. Atlasthis headfellheavilyuponthecushion. ExhaustedNature had taken refuge in its last storehouse of vitality. It was half a sleep and half a faint, but at least it was easefrompain.</s>Toquestionhimhadbeenimpossible,butthemo- ment we were assured of his condition Stackhurst turneduponme.</s>“MyGod!”hecried,“whatisit,Holmes? Whatis it?” “Wheredidyoufindhim?” “Downonthebeach. ExactlywherepoorMcPher- sonmethisend. Ifthisman’shearthadbeenweakas McPherson’s was, he would not be here now. More thanonceIthoughthewasgoneasIbroughthimup.</s>ItwastoofartoTheGables,soImadeforyou.” “Didyouseehimonthebeach?” “I was walking on the cliff when I heard his cry.</s>He was at the edge of the water, reeling about like a drunken man. I ran down, threw some clothes about him, and brought him up. For heaven’s sake, Holmes, use all the powers you have and spare no painstoliftthecursefromthisplace,forlifeisbecom- ingunendurable. Canyou,withallyourworld-wide reputation,donothingforus?” “I think I can, Stackhurst. Come with me now! And you, Inspector, come along! We will see if we cannotdeliverthismurdererintoyourhands.” Leavingtheunconsciousmaninthechargeofmy housekeeper, we all three went down to the deadly lagoon. On the shingle there was piled a little heap oftowelsandclothesleftbythestrickenman. Slowly Iwalkedroundtheedgeofthewater,mycomrades inIndianfilebehindme. Mostofthepoolwasquite shallow,butunderthecliffwherethebeachwashol- lowed out it was four or five feet deep. It was to this part that a swimmer would naturally go, for it formed a beautiful pellucid green pool as clear as crystal. Alineofrockslayaboveitatthebaseofthe cliff,andalongthisIledtheway,peeringeagerlyinto thedepthsbeneathme. Ihadreachedthedeepestand stillestpoolwhenmyeyescaughtthatforwhichthey weresearching,andIburstintoashoutoftriumph.</s>“Cyanea!” I cried. “Cyanea! Behold the Lion’s Mane!”ThestrangeobjectatwhichIpointeddidindeed looklikeatangledmasstornfromthemaneofalion.</s>Itlayuponarockyshelfsomethreefeetunderthewa- ter,acuriouswaving,vibrating,hairycreaturewith streaksofsilveramongitsyellowtresses. Itpulsated withaslow,heavydilationandcontraction.</s>“It has done mischief enough. Its day is over!” I cried. “Helpme,Stackhurst! Letusendthemurderer forever.” Therewasabigboulderjustabovetheledge,and we pushed it until it fell with a tremendous splash intothewater. Whentherippleshadclearedwesaw thatithadsettledupontheledgebelow. Oneflapping edgeofyellowmembraneshowedthatourvictimwas beneathit. Athickoilyscumoozedoutfrombelow thestoneandstainedthewaterround,risingslowly tothesurface.</s>“Well, this gets me!” cried the inspector. “What wasit,Mr.Holmes? I’mbornandbredintheseparts, butIneversawsuchathing. Itdon’tbelongtoSus- sex.” “JustaswellforSussex,”Iremarked. “Itmayhave been the southwest gale that brought it up. Come back to my house, both of you, and I will give you theterribleexperienceofonewhohasgoodreasonto rememberhisownmeetingwiththesameperilofthe seas.” When we reached my study we found that Mur- doch was so far recovered that he could sit up. He was dazed in mind, and every now and then was shaken by a paroxysm of pain. In broken words he explainedthathehadnonotionwhathadoccurred to him, save that terrific pangs had suddenly shot throughhim,andthatithadtakenallhisfortitudeto reachthebank.</s>“Here is a book,” I said, taking up the little vol- ume,“whichfirstbroughtlightintowhatmighthave been forever dark. It is Out of Doors, by the famous observer,J.G.Wood. Woodhimselfverynearlyper- ishedfromcontactwiththisvilecreature,sohewrote with a very full knowledge. Cyanea capillata is the miscreant’s full name, and he can be as dangerous to life as, and far more painful than, the bite of the cobra. Letmebrieflygivethisextract.</s>“Ifthebathershouldseealooseroundishmass of tawny membranes and fibres, something likeverylargehandfulsoflion’smaneandsil- verpaper,lethimbeware,forthisisthefearful stinger,Cyaneacapillata.</s>Could our sinister acquaintance be more clearly de- scribed? “Hegoesontotellofhisownencounterwithone whenswimmingoffthecoastofKent. Hefoundthat thecreatureradiatedalmostinvisiblefilamentstothe distanceoffiftyfeet,andthatanyonewithinthatcir- cumferencefromthedeadlycentrewasindangerof death. EvenatadistancetheeffectuponWoodwas almostfatal.</s>“Themultitudinousthreadscausedlightscar- let lines upon the skin which on closer exam- inationresolvedintominutedotsorpustules, eachdotchargedasitwerewithared-hotnee- dlemakingitswaythroughthenerves.</s>“Thelocalpainwas,asheexplains,theleastpartof theexquisitetorment.</s>“Pangsshotthroughthechest,causingmeto fall as if struck by a bullet. The pulsation would cease, and then the heart would give six or seven leaps as if it would force its way throughthechest.</s>“It nearly killed him, although he had only been ex- posedtoitinthedisturbedoceanandnotinthenar- row calm waters of a bathing-pool. He says that he couldhardlyrecognizehimselfafterwards,sowhite, wrinkled and shrivelled was his face. He gulped downbrandy,awholebottleful,anditseemstohave savedhislife. Thereisthebook,Inspector. Ileaveit withyou,andyoucannotdoubtthatitcontainsafull explanationofthetragedyofpoorMcPherson.” “Andincidentallyexoneratesme,”remarkedIan Murdoch with a wry smile. “I do not blame you, Inspector,noryou,Mr.Holmes,foryoursuspicions werenatural. Ifeelthatontheveryeveofmyarrest Ihaveonlyclearedmyselfbysharingthefateofmy poorfriend.” “No,Mr.Murdoch. Iwasalreadyuponthetrack, andhadIbeenoutasearlyasIintendedImightwell havesavedyoufromthisterrificexperience.” “Buthowdidyouknow,Mr.Holmes?” “I am an omnivorous reader with a strangely re- tentive memory for trifles. That phrase ‘the Lion’s Mane’ haunted my mind. I knew that I had seen it somewhereinanunexpectedcontext. Youhaveseen thatitdoesdescribethecreature. Ihavenodoubtthat itwasfloatingonthewaterwhenMcPhersonsawit, and that this phrase was the only one by which he couldconveytousawarningastothecreaturewhich hadbeenhisdeath.” “ThenI,atleast,amcleared,”saidMurdoch,ris- ingslowlytohisfeet. “ThereareoneortwowordsofexplanationwhichIshouldgive,forIknowthedirec- tioninwhichyourinquirieshaverun. Itistruethat I loved this lady, but from the day when she chose myfriendMcPhersonmyonedesirewastohelpher to happiness. I was well content to stand aside and act as their go-between. Often I carried their mes- sages, and it was because I was in their confidence and because she was so dear to me that I hastened totellherofmyfriend’sdeath,lestsomeoneshould forestallmeinamoresuddenandheartlessmanner.</s>She would not tell you, sir, of our relations lest you shoulddisapproveandImightsuffer. Butwithyour leaveImusttrytogetbacktoTheGables,formybed willbeverywelcome.” Stackhurstheldouthishand. “Ournerveshaveall beenatconcert-pitch,”saidhe. “Forgivewhatispast, Murdoch. We shall understand each other better in thefuture.”Theypassedouttogetherwiththeirarms linked in friendly fashion. The inspector remained, staringatmeinsilencewithhisox-likeeyes.</s>“Well,you’vedoneit!”hecriedatlast. “Ihadread ofyou,butIneverbelievedit. It’swonderful!” I was forced to shake my head. To accept such praisewastolowerone’sownstandards.</s>“Iwasslowattheoutset—culpablyslow. Hadthe body been found in the water I could hardly have missed it. It was the towel which misled me. The poorfellowhadneverthoughttodryhimself,andso I in turn was led to believe that he had never been in the water. Why, then, should the attack of any watercreaturesuggestitselftome? ThatwaswhereI wentastray. Well,well,Inspector,Ioftenventuredto chaffyou gentlemenofthe policeforce, butCyanea capillataverynearlyavengedScotlandYard.”hen one considers that Mr. Sherlock Holmeswasinactivepracticefortwenty- threeyears,andthatduringseventeenof W theseIwasallowedtocooperatewithhim andtokeepnotesofhisdoings,itwillbeclearthatI have a mass of material at my command. The prob- lemhasalwaysbeennottofindbuttochoose. There is the long row of year-books which fill a shelf, and therearethedispatch-casesfilledwithdocuments,a perfect quarry for thestudent not only of crime but ofthesocialandofficialscandalsofthelateVictorian era. Concerningtheselatter,Imaysaythatthewriters ofagonizedletters,whobegthatthehonouroftheir families or the reputation of famous forebears may notbetouched,havenothingtofear. Thediscretion and high sense of professional honour which have alwaysdistinguishedmyfriendarestillatworkinthe choice of these memoirs, and no confidence will be abused. Ideprecate,however,inthestrongestwaythe attemptswhichhavebeenmadelatelytogetatandto destroythesepapers. Thesourceoftheseoutragesis known,andiftheyarerepeatedIhaveMr.Holmes’s authorityforsayingthatthewholestoryconcerning the politician, the lighthouse, and the trained cor- morant will be given to the public. There is at least onereaderwhowillunderstand.</s>It is not reasonable to suppose that every one of thesecasesgaveHolmestheopportunityofshowing thosecuriousgiftsofinstinctandobservationwhich I have endeavoured to set forth in these memoirs.</s>Sometimeshehadwithmuchefforttopickthefruit, sometimes it fell easily into his lap. But the most terriblehumantragedieswereofteninvolvedinthose caseswhichbroughthimthefewestpersonaloppor- tunities,anditisoneofthesewhichInowdesireto record. In telling it, I have made a slight change of nameandplace,butotherwisethefactsareasstated.</s>One forenoon—it was late in 1896—I received a hurriednotefromHolmesaskingformyattendance.</s>WhenIarrivedIfoundhimseatedinasmoke-laden atmosphere,withanelderly,motherlywomanofthe buxom landlady type in the corresponding chair in frontofhim.</s>“This is Mrs. Merrilow, of South Brixton,” said myfriendwithawaveofthehand. “Mrs.Merrilow does not object to tobacco, Watson, if you wish to indulgeyourfilthyhabits. Mrs.Merrilowhasanin- terestingstorytotellwhichmaywellleadtofurther developmentsinwhichyourpresencemaybeuseful.” “AnythingIcando—” “You will understand, Mrs. Merrilow, that if I come to Mrs. Ronder I should prefer to have a wit- ness. You will make her understand that before we arrive.” “Lord bless you, Mr. Holmes,” said our visitor, “sheisthatanxioustoseeyouthatyoumightbring thewholeparishatyourheels!” “Thenweshallcomeearlyintheafternoon. Letus seethatwehaveourfactscorrectbeforewestart. If wegooverthemitwillhelpDr.Watsontounderstand thesituation. YousaythatMrs.Ronderhasbeenyour lodger for seven years and that you have only once seenherface.” “And I wish to God I had not!” said Mrs. Mer- rilow.</s>“Itwas,Iunderstand,terriblymutilated.” “Well,Mr.Holmes,youwouldhardlysayitwasa faceatall. That’showitlooked. Ourmilkmangota glimpseofheroncepeepingoutoftheupperwindow, andhedroppedhistinandthemilkalloverthefront garden. That is the kind of face it is. When I saw her—I happened on her unawares—she covered up quick, and then she said, ‘Now, Mrs. Merrilow, you knowatlastwhyitisthatIneverraisemyveil.’” “Doyouknowanythingaboutherhistory?” “Nothingatall.” “Didshegivereferenceswhenshecame?” “No,sir,butshegavehardcash,andplentyofit.</s>Aquarter’srentrightdownonthetableinadvance and no arguing about terms. In these times a poor woman like me can’t afford to turn down a chance likethat.” “Did she give any reason for choosing your house?” “Minestandswellbackfromtheroadandismore private than most. Then, again, I only take the one, and I have no family of my own. I reckon she had triedothersandfoundthatminesuitedherbest. It’s privacysheisafter,andsheisreadytopayforit.” “Yousaythatshenevershowedherfacefromfirst tolastsaveontheoneaccidentaloccasion. Well,itis averyremarkablestory,mostremarkable,andIdon’t wonderthatyouwantitexamined.” “Idon’t,Mr.Holmes. Iamquitesatisfiedsolong asIgetmyrent. Youcouldnothaveaquieterlodger, oronewhogiveslesstrouble.” “Thenwhathasbroughtmatterstoahead?” “Herhealth,Mr.Holmes. Sheseemstobewasting away. And there’s something terrible on her mind.‘Murder!’ shecries. ‘Murder!’ AndonceIheardher: ‘You cruel beast! You monster!’ she cried. It was in the night, and it fair rang through the house and senttheshiversthroughme. SoIwenttoherinthe morning. ‘Mrs.Ronder,’Isays,‘ifyouhaveanything thatistroublingyoursoul,there’stheclergy,’Isays, ‘andthere’sthepolice. Betweenthemyoushouldget somehelp.’ ‘ForGod’ssake,notthepolice!’ saysshe, ‘and the clergy can’t change what is past. And yet,’ she says, ‘it would ease my mind if someone knew the truth before I died.’ ‘Well,’ says I, ‘if you won’t have the regulars, there is this detective man what we read about’—beggin’ your pardon, Mr. Holmes.</s>Andshe,shefairjumpedatit. ‘That’stheman,’says she. ‘IwonderIneverthoughtofitbefore. Bringhim here, Mrs. Merrilow, and if he won’t come, tell him IamthewifeofRonder’swildbeastshow. Saythat, andgivehimthenameAbbasParva. Hereitisasshe wroteit,AbbasParva. ‘Thatwillbringhimifhe’sthe manIthinkheis.’” “Anditwill,too,”remarkedHolmes. “Verygood, Mrs.Merrilow. Ishouldliketohavealittlechatwith Dr.Watson. Thatwillcarryustilllunch-time. About threeo’clockyoumayexpecttoseeusatyourhouse inBrixton.” Our visitor had no sooner waddled out of the room—no other verb can describe Mrs. Merrilow’s methodofprogression—thanSherlockHolmesthrew himselfwithfierceenergyuponthepileofcommon- place books in the corner. For a few minutes there was a constant swish of the leaves, and then with a grunt of satisfaction he came upon what he sought.</s>So excited was he that he did not rise, but sat upon thefloorlikesomestrangeBuddha,withcrossedlegs, thehugebooksallroundhim,andoneopenuponhis knees.</s>“The case worried me at the time, Watson. Here are my marginal notes to prove it. I confess that I could make nothing of it. And yet I was convinced thatthecoronerwaswrong. Haveyounorecollection oftheAbbasParvatragedy?” “None,Holmes.” “And yet you were with me then. But certainly my own impression was very superficial. For there was nothing to go by, and none of the parties had engagedmyservices. Perhapsyouwouldcaretoread thepapers?” “Couldyounotgivemethepoints?” “That is very easily done. It will probably come backtoyourmemoryasItalk. Ronder,ofcourse,was a household word. He was the rival of Wombwell, andofSanger,oneofthegreatestshowmenofhisday.</s>Thereisevidence,however,thathetooktodrink,and thatbothheandhisshowwereonthedowngradeat thetimeofthegreattragedy. Thecaravanhadhalted forthenightatAbbasParva,whichisasmallvillage in Berkshire, when this horror occurred. They were on their way to Wimbledon, travelling by road, and theyweresimplycampingandnotexhibiting,asthe place is so small a one that it would not have paid themtoopen.</s>“TheyhadamongtheirexhibitsaveryfineNorth African lion. Sahara King was its name, and it was thehabit,bothofRonderandhiswife,togiveexhibi- tionsinsideitscage. Here,yousee,isaphotograph of the performance by which you will perceive that Ronderwasahugeporcinepersonandthathiswife was a very magnificent woman. It was deposed at the inquest that there had been some signs that the lion was dangerous, but, as usual, familiarity begat contempt,andnonoticewastakenofthefact.</s>“ItwasusualforeitherRonderorhiswifetofeed the lion at night. Sometimes one went, sometimes both, but they never allowed anyone else to do it, fortheybelievedthatsolongastheywerethefood- carriers he would regard them as benefactors and would never molest them. On this particular night, sevenyearsago,theybothwent,andaveryterrible happeningfollowed,thedetailsofwhichhavenever beenmadeclear.</s>“It seems that the whole camp was roused near midnightbytheroarsoftheanimalandthescreams ofthewoman. Thedifferentgroomsandemployees rushed from their tents, carrying lanterns, and by their light an awful sight was revealed. Ronder lay, withthebackofhisheadcrushedinanddeepclaw- marksacrosshisscalp,sometenyardsfromthecage, whichwasopen. ClosetothedoorofthecagelayMrs.</s>Ronder upon her back, with the creature squatting andsnarlingaboveher. Ithadtornherfaceinsucha fashionthatitwasneverthoughtthatshecouldlive.</s>Several of the circus men, headed by Leonardo, the strongman,andGriggs,theclown,drovethecreature off with poles, upon which it sprang back into the cageandwasatoncelockedin. Howithadgotloose was a mystery. It was conjectured that the pair in- tendedtoenterthecage,butthatwhenthedoorwas loosed the creature bounded out upon them. There wasnootherpointofinterestintheevidencesavethat the woman in a delirium of agony kept screaming, ‘Coward! Coward!’ asshewascarriedbacktothevan inwhichtheylived. Itwassixmonthsbeforeshewasfit to give evidence, but the inquest was duly held, withtheobviousverdictofdeathfrommisadventure.” “Whatalternativecouldbeconceived?”saidI.</s>“You may well say so. And yet there were one ortwopointswhichworriedyoungEdmunds,ofthe Berkshire Constabulary. A smart lad that! He was sentlatertoAllahabad. ThatwashowIcameintothe matter,forhedroppedinandsmokedapipeortwo overit.” “Athin,yellow-hairedman?” “Exactly. I was sure you would pick up the trail presently.” “Butwhatworriedhim?” “Well,wewerebothworried. Itwassodeucedly difficulttoreconstructtheaffair. Lookatitfromthe lion’spointofview. Heisliberated. Whatdoeshedo? Hetakeshalfadozenboundsforward,whichbrings himtoRonder. Ronderturnstofly—theclaw-marks wereonthebackofhishead—butthelionstrikeshim down. Then, instead of bounding on and escaping, hereturnstothewoman,whowasclosetothecage, andheknocksheroverandchewsherfaceup. Then, again, those cries of hers would seem to imply that herhusbandhadinsomewayfailedher. Whatcould the poor devil have done to help her? You see the difficulty?” “Quite.” “Andthentherewasanotherthing. Itcomesback tomenowasIthinkitover. Therewassomeevidence that just at the time the lion roared and the woman screamed,amanbeganshoutinginterror.” “ThismanRonder,nodoubt.” “Well, if his skull was smashed in you would hardlyexpecttohearfromhimagain. Therewereat leasttwowitnesseswhospokeofthecriesofaman beingmingledwiththoseofawoman.” “Ishouldthinkthewholecampwascryingoutby then. Astotheotherpoints,IthinkIcouldsuggesta solution.” “Ishouldbegladtoconsiderit.” “Thetwoweretogether,tenyardsfromthecage, when the lion got loose. The man turned and was struckdown. Thewomanconceivedtheideaofget- ting into the cage and shutting the door. It was her onlyrefuge. Shemadeforit,andjustasshereachedit thebeastboundedafterherandknockedherover. She wasangrywithherhusbandforhavingencouraged thebeast’sragebyturning. Iftheyhadfaceditthey mighthavecowedit. Hencehercriesof‘Coward!’” “Brilliant, Watson! Only one flaw in your dia- mond.” “Whatistheflaw,Holmes?” “If they were both ten paces from the cage, how camethebeasttogetloose?” “Is it possible that they had some enemy who loosedit?” “And why should it attack them savagely when it was in the habit of playing with them, and doing trickswiththeminsidethecage?” “Possiblythesameenemyhaddonesomethingto enrageit.” Holmeslookedthoughtfulandremainedinsilence forsomemoments.</s>“Well,Watson,thereisthistobesaidforyourthe- ory. Ronderwasamanofmanyenemies. Edmunds told me that in his cups he was horrible. A huge bully of a man, he cursed and slashed at everyone who came in his way. I expect those cries about a monster, of which our visitor has spoken, were noc- turnalreminiscencesofthedeardeparted. However, ourspeculationsarefutileuntilwehaveallthefacts.</s>There is a cold partridge on the sideboard, Watson, andabottleofMontrachet. Letusrenewourenergies beforewemakeafreshcalluponthem.” When our hansom deposited us at the house of Mrs.Merrilow,wefoundthatplumpladyblockingup theopendoorofherhumblebutretiredabode. Itwas very clear that her chief preoccupation was lest she should lose a valuable lodger, and she implored us, beforeshowingusup,tosayanddonothingwhich could lead to so undesirable an end. Then, having reassuredher,wefollowedherupthestraight,badly carpetedstaircaseandwereshownintotheroomof themysteriouslodger.</s>Itwasaclose,musty,ill-ventilatedplace,asmight be expected, since its inmate seldom left it. From keepingbeastsinacage,thewomanseemed,bysome retribution of fate, to have become herself a beast in a cage. She sat now in a broken armchair in the shadowycorneroftheroom. Longyearsofinaction had coarsened the lines of her figure, but at some perioditmusthavebeenbeautiful,andwasstillfull and voluptuous. A thick dark veil covered her face, butitwascutoffcloseatherupperlipanddisclosed a perfectly shaped mouth and a delicately rounded chin. Icouldwellconceivethatshehadindeedbeen a very remarkable woman. Her voice, too, was well modulatedandpleasing.</s>“Mynameisnotunfamiliartoyou,Mr.Holmes,” saidshe. “Ithoughtthatitwouldbringyou.”“That is so, madam, though I do not know how youareawarethatIwasinterestedinyourcase.” “IlearneditwhenIhadrecoveredmyhealthand wasexaminedbyMr.Edmunds,thecountydetective.</s>IfearIliedtohim. Perhapsitwouldhavebeenwiser hadItoldthetruth.” “Itisusuallywisertotellthetruth. Butwhydid youlietohim?” “Becausethefateofsomeoneelsedependedupon it. Iknowthathewasaveryworthlessbeing,andyet Iwouldnothavehisdestructionuponmyconscience.</s>Wehadbeensoclose—soclose!” “Buthasthisimpedimentbeenremoved?” “Yes,sir. ThepersonthatIalludetoisdead.” “Then why should you not now tell the police anythingyouknow?” “Becausethereisanotherpersontobeconsidered.</s>That other person is myself. I could not stand the scandalandpublicitywhichwouldcomefromapo- liceexamination. Ihavenotlongtolive,butIwishto dieundisturbed. AndyetIwantedtofindoneman ofjudgmenttowhomIcouldtellmyterriblestory,so thatwhenIamgoneallmightbeunderstood.” “Youcomplimentme,madam. Atthesametime, Iamaresponsibleperson. Idonotpromiseyouthat whenyouhavespokenImaynotmyselfthinkitmy dutytoreferthecasetothepolice.” “I think not, Mr. Holmes. I know your character andmethodstoowell,forIhavefollowedyourwork for some years. Reading is the only pleasure which fatehasleftme,andImisslittlewhichpassesinthe world. But in any case, I will take my chance of the usewhichyoumaymakeofmytragedy. Itwillease mymindtotellit.” “MyfriendandIwouldbegladtohearit.” Thewomanroseandtookfromadrawerthepho- tograph of a man. He was clearly a professional acrobat, a man of magnificent physique, taken with hishugearmsfoldedacrosshisswollenchestanda smilebreakingfromunderhisheavymoustache—the self-satisfiedsmileofthemanofmanyconquests.</s>“ThatisLeonardo,”shesaid.</s>“Leonardo,thestrongman,whogaveevidence?” “Thesame. Andthis—thisismyhusband.” It was a dreadful face—a human pig, or rather a human wild boar, for it was formidable in its bes- tiality. Onecouldimaginethatvilemouthchamping andfoaminginitsrage,andonecouldconceivethose small,viciouseyesdartingpuremalignancyasthey lookedforthupontheworld. Ruffian,bully,beast—it wasallwrittenonthatheavy-jowledface.</s>“Thosetwopictureswillhelpyou,gentlemen,to understandthestory. Iwasapoorcircusgirlbrought up on the sawdust, and doing springs through the hoopbeforeIwasten. WhenIbecameawomanthis man loved me, if such lust as his can be called love, andinanevilmomentIbecamehiswife. Fromthat day I was in hell, and he the devil who tormented me. Therewasnooneintheshowwhodidnotknow ofhistreatment. Hedesertedmeforothers. Hetied medownandlashedmewithhisriding-whipwhenI complained. Theyallpitiedmeandtheyallloathed him,butwhatcouldtheydo? Theyfearedhim,one andall. Forhewasterribleatalltimes,andmurder- ouswhenhewasdrunk. Againandagainhewashad up for assault, and for cruelty to the beasts, but he had plenty of money and the fines were nothing to him. Thebestmenallleftus,andtheshowbeganto godownhill. ItwasonlyLeonardoandIwhokeptit up—withlittleJimmyGriggs,theclown. Poordevil, hehadnotmuchtobefunnyabout,buthedidwhat hecouldtoholdthingstogether.</s>“Then Leonardo came more and more into my life. You see what he was like. I know now the poorspiritthatwashiddeninthatsplendidbody,but compared to my husband he seemed like the angel Gabriel. Hepitiedmeandhelpedme,tillatlastour intimacyturnedtolove—deep,deep,passionatelove, suchloveasIhaddreamedofbutneverhopedtofeel.</s>My husband suspected it, but I think that he was a cowardaswellasabully,andthatLeonardowasthe one man that he was afraid of. He took revenge in his own way by torturing me more than ever. One nightmycriesbroughtLeonardotothedoorofour van. We wereneartragedy thatnight, andsoonmy lover and I understood that it could not be avoided.</s>Myhusbandwasnotfittolive. Weplannedthathe shoulddie.</s>“Leonardo had a clever, scheming brain. It was he who planned it. I do not say that to blame him, forIwasreadytogowithhimeveryinchoftheway.</s>ButIshouldneverhavehadthewittothinkofsuch a plan. We made a club—Leonardo made it—and in the leaden head he fastened five long steel nails, the points outward, with just such a spread as the lion’s paw. This was to give my husband his death- blow,andyettoleavetheevidencethatitwasthelion whichwewouldloosewhohaddonethedeed.</s>“Itwasapitch-darknightwhenmyhusbandand Iwentdown,aswasourcustom,tofeedthebeast. We carriedwithustherawmeatinazincpail. Leonardowas waiting at the corner of the big van which we shouldhavetopassbeforewereachedthecage. He wastooslow,andwewalkedpasthimbeforehecould strike, but he followed us on tiptoe and I heard the crash as the club smashed my husband’s skull. My heartleapedwithjoyatthesound. Isprangforward, andIundidthecatchwhichheldthedoorofthegreat lion’scage.</s>“Andthentheterriblethinghappened. Youmay have heard how quick these creatures are to scent humanblood,andhowitexcitesthem. Somestrange instinct had told the creature in one instant that a humanbeinghadbeenslain. AsIslippedthebarsit boundedoutandwasonmeinaninstant. Leonardo couldhavesavedme. Ifhehadrushedforwardand struck the beast with his club he might have cowed it. But the man lost his nerve. I heard him shout in his terror, and then I saw him turn and fly. At the sameinstanttheteethofthelionmetinmyface. Its hot,filthybreathhadalreadypoisonedmeandIwas hardlyconsciousofpain. Withthepalmsofmyhands Itriedtopushthegreatsteaming,blood-stainedjaws away from me, and I screamed for help. I was con- scious that the camp was stirring, and then dimly I rememberedagroupofmen. Leonardo,Griggs,and others,draggingmefromunderthecreature’spaws.</s>That was my last memory, Mr. Holmes, for many a wearymonth. WhenIcametomyselfandsawmyself in the mirror, I cursed that lion—oh, how I cursed him!—notbecausehehadtornawaymybeautybut becausehehadnottornawaymylife. Ihadbutone desire,Mr.Holmes,andIhadenoughmoneytograt- ify it. It was that I should cover myself so that my poorfaceshouldbeseenbynone,andthatIshould dwell where none whom I had ever known should findme. Thatwasallthatwaslefttometodo—and thatiswhatIhavedone. Apoorwoundedbeastthat has crawled into its hole to die—that is the end of EugeniaRonder.” Wesatinsilenceforsometimeaftertheunhappy womanhadtoldherstory. ThenHolmesstretchedout hislongarmandpattedherhandwithsuchashow ofsympathyasIhadseldomknownhimtoexhibit.</s>“Poorgirl!”hesaid. “Poorgirl! Thewaysoffate are indeed hard to understand. If there is not some compensationhereafter,thentheworldisacrueljest.</s>ButwhatofthismanLeonardo?” “I never saw him or heard from him again. Per- hapsIhavebeenwrongtofeelsobitterlyagainsthim.</s>Hemightassoonhavelovedoneofthefreakswhom wecarriedroundthecountryasthethingwhichthe lionhadleft. Butawoman’sloveisnotsoeasilyset aside. Hehadleftmeunderthebeast’sclaws,hehad deserted me in my need, and yet I could not bring myselftogivehimtothegallows. Formyself,Icared nothing what became of me. What could be more dreadful than my actual life? But I stood between Leonardoandhisfate.” “Andheisdead?” “Hewasdrownedlastmonthwhenbathingnear Margate. Isawhisdeathinthepaper.” “And what did he do with this five-clawed club, whichisthemostsingularandingeniouspartofall yourstory?” “Icannottell,Mr.Holmes. Thereisachalk-pitby the camp, with a deep green pool at the base of it.</s>Perhapsinthedepthsofthatpool—” “Well, well, it is of little consequence now. The caseisclosed.” “Yes,”saidthewoman,“thecaseisclosed.” We had risen to go, but there was something in thewoman’svoicewhicharrestedHolmes’sattention.</s>Heturnedswiftlyuponher.</s>“Yourlifeisnotyourown,”hesaid. “Keepyour handsoffit.” “Whatuseisittoanyone?” “Howcanyoutell? Theexampleofpatientsuffer- ing is in itself the most precious of all lessons to an impatientworld.” Thewoman’sanswerwasaterribleone. Sheraised herveilandsteppedforwardintothelight.</s>“Iwonderifyouwouldbearit,”shesaid.</s>Itwashorrible. Nowordscandescribetheframe- work of a face when the face itself is gone. Two living and beautiful brown eyes looking sadly out from that grisly ruin did but make the view more awful. Holmeshelduphishandinagestureofpity andprotest,andtogetherwelefttheroom.</s>Twodayslater,whenIcalleduponmyfriend,he pointedwithsomepridetoasmallbluebottleupon hismantelpiece. Ipickeditup. Therewasaredpoi- son label. A pleasant almondy odour rose when I openedit.</s>“Prussicacid?”saidI.</s>“Exactly. Itcamebypost. ‘Isendyoumytempta- tion. Iwillfollowyouradvice.’ Thatwasthemessage.</s>Ithink,Watson,wecanguessthenameofthebrave womanwhosentit.”herlock Holmes had been bending for a long time over a low-power microscope.</s>Nowhestraightenedhimselfupandlooked S roundatmeintriumph.</s>“Itisglue,Watson,”saidhe. “Unquestionablyit isglue. Havealookatthesescatteredobjectsinthe field!” I stooped to the eyepiece and focussed for my vision.</s>“Thosehairsarethreadsfromatweedcoat. The irregular gray masses are dust. There are epithelial scalesontheleft. Thosebrownblobsinthecentreare undoubtedlyglue.” “Well,” I said, laughing, “I am prepared to take yourwordforit. Doesanythingdependuponit?” “Itisaveryfinedemonstration,”heanswered. “In theSt.Pancrascaseyoumayrememberthatacapwas foundbesidethedeadpoliceman. Theaccusedman deniesthatitishis. Butheisapicture-framemaker whohabituallyhandlesglue.” “Isitoneofyourcases?” “No; myfriend,Merivale,oftheYard,askedme to look into the case. Since I ran down that coiner bythezincandcopperfilingsintheseamofhiscuff theyhavebeguntorealizetheimportanceofthemi- croscope.”Helookedimpatientlyathiswatch. “Ihad a new client calling, but he is overdue. By the way, Watson,youknowsomethingofracing?” “Ioughtto. Ipayforitwithabouthalfmywound pension.” “ThenI’llmakeyoumy‘HandyGuidetotheTurf.’ What about Sir Robert Norberton? Does the name recallanything?” “Well,Ishouldsayso. HelivesatShoscombeOld Place, and I know it well, for my summer quarters weredownthereonce. Norbertonnearlycamewithin yourprovinceonce.” “Howwasthat?” “It was when he horsewhipped Sam Brewer, the well-knownCurzonStreetmoney-lender,onNewmar- ketHeath. Henearlykilledtheman.” “Ah,hesoundsinteresting! Doesheoftenindulge inthatway?” “Well, he has the name of being a dangerous man. He is about the most daredevil rider in Eng- land—secondintheGrandNationalafewyearsback.</s>Heisoneofthosemenwhohaveovershottheirtrue generation. Heshouldhavebeenabuckinthedays oftheRegency—aboxer,anathlete,aplungeronthe turf,aloveroffairladies,and,byallaccount,sofar down Queer Street that he may never find his way backagain.” “Capital,Watson! Athumb-nailsketch. Iseemto know the man. Now, can you give me some idea of ShoscombeOldPlace?” “Only that it is in the centre of Shoscombe Park, and that the famous Shoscombe stud and training quartersaretobefoundthere.” “Andtheheadtrainer,”saidHolmes,“isJohnMa- son. Youneednotlooksurprisedatmyknowledge, Watson, for this is a letter from him which I am un- folding. ButletushavesomemoreaboutShoscombe.</s>Iseemtohavestruckarichvein.” “TherearetheShoscombespaniels,”saidI.“You hearofthemateverydogshow. Themostexclusive breed in England. They are the special pride of the ladyofShoscombeOldPlace.” “SirRobertNorberton’swife,Ipresume!” “SirRoberthasnevermarried. Justaswell,Ithink, consideringhisprospects. Heliveswithhiswidowed sister,LadyBeatriceFalder.” “Youmeanthatsheliveswithhim?” “No,no. Theplacebelongedtoherlatehusband, Sir James. Norberton has no claim on it at all. It is only a life interest and reverts to her husband’s brother. Meantime,shedrawstherentseveryyear.” “AndbrotherRobert,Isuppose,spendsthesaid rents?” “That is about the size of it. He is a devil of a fellow and must lead her a most uneasy life. Yet I have heard that she is devoted to him. But what is amissatShoscombe?” “Ah,thatisjustwhatIwanttoknow. Andhere,I expect,isthemanwhocantellus.” The door had opened and the page had shown inatall,clean-shavenmanwiththefirm,austereex- pressionwhichisonlyseenuponthosewhohaveto control horses or boys. Mr. John Mason had many of both under his sway, and he looked equal to the task. Hebowedwithcoldself-possessionandseated himselfuponthechairtowhichHolmeshadwaved him.</s>“Youhadmynote,Mr.Holmes?” “Yes,butitexplainednothing.” “It was too delicate a thing for me to put the de- tailsonpaper. Andtoocomplicated. Itwasonlyface tofaceIcoulddoit.” “Well,weareatyourdisposal.”“Firstofall,Mr.Holmes,Ithinkthatmyemployer, SirRobert,hasgonemad.” Holmesraisedhiseyebrows. “ThisisBakerStreet, notHarleyStreet,”saidhe. “Butwhydoyousayso?” “Well, sir, when a man does one queer thing, or two queer things, there may be a meaning to it, but wheneverythinghedoesisqueer,thenyoubeginto wonder. I believe Shoscombe Prince and the Derby haveturnedhisbrain.” “Thatisacoltyouarerunning?” “ThebestinEngland,Mr.Holmes. Ishouldknow, ifanyonedoes. Now,I’llbeplainwithyou,forIknow youaregentlemenofhonourandthatitwon’tgobe- yondtheroom. SirRoberthasgottowinthisDerby.</s>He’s up to the neck, and it’s his last chance. Every- thinghecouldraiseorborrowisonthehorse—and atfineodds,too! Youcangetfortiesnow,butitwas nearerthehundredwhenhebegantobackhim.” “Buthowisthatifthehorseissogood?” “Thepublicdon’tknowhowgoodheis. SirRobert hasbeentoocleverforthetouts. HehasthePrince’s half-brother out for spins. You can’t tell ’em apart.</s>Buttherearetwolengthsinafurlongbetweenthem whenitcomestoagallop. Hethinksofnothingbut the horse and the race. His whole life is on it. He’s holding offthe Jews tillthen. If thePrince fails him heisdone.” “It seems a rather desperate gamble, but where doesthemadnesscomein?” “Well,firstofall,youhaveonlytolookathim. I don’t believe he sleeps at night. He is down at the stablesatallhours. Hiseyesarewild. Ithasallbeen toomuchforhisnerves. Thenthereishisconductto LadyBeatrice!” “Ah! Whatisthat?” “Theyhavealwaysbeenthebestoffriends. They hadthesametastes,thetwoofthem,andsheloved thehorsesasmuchashedid. Everydayatthesame hourshewoulddrivedowntoseethem—and,above all,shelovedthePrince. Hewouldprickuphisears whenheheardthewheelsonthegravel,andhewould trotouteachmorningtothecarriagetogethislump ofsugar. Butthat’sallovernow.” “Why?” “Well, she seems to have lost all interest in the horses. For a week now she has driven past the sta- bleswithneversomuchas‘Good-morning’!” “Youthinktherehasbeenaquarrel?” “Andabitter,savage,spitefulquarrelatthat. Why elsewouldhegiveawayherpetspanielthatsheloved asifhewereherchild? Hegaveitafewdaysagoto oldBarnes,whatkeepstheGreenDragon,threemiles off,atCrendall.” “Thatcertainlydidseemstrange.” “Ofcourse,withherweakheartanddropsyone couldn’texpectthatshecouldgetaboutwithhim,but he spent two hours every evening in her room. He mightwelldowhathecould,forshehasbeenarare goodfriendtohim. Butthat’sallover,too. Henever goesnearher. Andshetakesittoheart. Sheisbrood- ing and sulky and drinking, Mr. Holmes—drinking likeafish.” “Didshedrinkbeforethisestrangement?” “Well, she took her glass, but now it is often a whole bottle of an evening. So Stephens, the butler, told me. It’s all changed, Mr. Holmes, and there is something damned rotten about it. But then, again, whatismasterdoingdownattheoldchurchcryptat night? Andwhoisthemanthatmeetshimthere?” Holmesrubbedhishands.</s>“Goon,Mr.Mason. Yougetmoreandmoreinter- esting.” “Itwasthebutlerwhosawhimgo. Twelveo’clock at night and raining hard. So next night I was up atthehouseand,sureenough,masterwasoffagain.</s>StephensandIwentafterhim,butitwasjumpywork, for it would have been a bad job if he had seen us.</s>He’s a terrible man with his fists if he gets started, and no respecter of persons. So we were shy of get- ting too near, but we marked him down all right. It was the haunted crypt that he was making for, and therewasamanwaitingforhimthere.” “Whatisthishauntedcrypt?” “Well,sir,thereisanoldruinedchapelinthepark.</s>Itissooldthatnobodycouldfixitsdate. Andunder itthere’sacryptwhichhasabadnameamongus. It’s adark,damp,lonelyplacebyday,buttherearefew inthatcountythatwouldhavethenervetogonear itatnight. Butmaster’snotafraid. Heneverfeared anythinginhislife. Butwhatishedoingthereinthe night-time?” “Wait a bit!” said Holmes. “You say there is an- other manthere. It mustbe one of your ownstable- men, or someone from the house! Surely you have onlytospotwhoitisandquestionhim?” “It’snooneIknow.” “Howcanyousaythat?”“Because I have seen him, Mr. Holmes. It was on that second night. Sir Robert turned and passed us—meandStephens,quakinginthebushesliketwo bunny-rabbits,fortherewasabitofmoonthatnight.</s>But we could hear the other moving about behind.</s>Wewerenotafraidofhim. SoweupwhenSirRobert wasgoneandpretendedwewerejusthavingawalk like in the moonlight, and so we came right on him as casual and innocent as you please. ‘Hullo, mate! whomayyoube?’ saysI.Iguesshehadnotheardus coming,sohelookedoverhisshoulderwithafaceas ifhehadseenthedevilcomingoutofhell. Heletout ayell,andawayhewentashardashecouldlickitin thedarkness. Hecouldrun!—I’llgivehimthat. Ina minutehewasoutofsightandhearing,andwhohe was,orwhathewas,weneverfound.” “Butyousawhimclearlyinthemoonlight?” “Yes, I would swear to his yellow face—a mean dog, I should say. What could he have in common withSirRobert?” Holmessatforsometimelostinthought.</s>“WhokeepsLadyBeatriceFaldercompany?”he askedatlast.</s>“There is her maid, Carrie Evans. She has been withherthisfiveyears.” “Andis,nodoubt,devoted?” Mr.Masonshuffleduncomfortably.</s>“She’sdevotedenough,”heansweredatlast. “But Iwon’tsaytowhom.” “Ah!”saidHolmes.</s>“Ican’ttelltalesoutofschool.” “Iquiteunderstand,Mr.Mason. Ofcourse,thesit- uationisclearenough. FromDr.Watson’sdescription ofSirRobertIcanrealizethatnowomanissafefrom him. Don’tyouthinkthequarrelbetweenbrotherand sistermayliethere?” “Well,thescandalhasbeenprettyclearforalong time.” “Butshemaynothaveseenitbefore. Letussup- posethatshehassuddenlyfounditout. Shewantsto getridofthewoman. Herbrotherwillnotpermitit.</s>Theinvalid,withherweakheartandinabilitytoget about,hasnomeansofenforcingherwill. Thehated maid is still tied to her. The lady refuses to speak, sulks, takes to drink. Sir Robert in his anger takes herpetspanielawayfromher. Doesnotallthishang together?” “Well,itmightdo—sofarasitgoes.” “Exactly! As far as it goes. How would all that bear upon the visits by night to the old crypt? We can’tfitthatintoourplot.” “No,sir,andthereissomethingmorethatIcan’t fitin. WhyshouldSirRobertwanttodigupadead body?” Holmessatupabruptly.</s>“Weonlyfounditoutyesterday—afterIhadwrit- tentoyou. YesterdaySirRoberthadgonetoLondon, soStephensandIwentdowntothecrypt. Itwasall in order, sir, except that in one corner was a bit of a humanbody.” “Youinformedthepolice,Isuppose?” Ourvisitorsmiledgrimly.</s>“Well,sir,Ithinkitwouldhardlyinterestthem. It was just the head and a few bones of a mummy. It may have been a thousand years old. But it wasn’t therebefore. ThatI’llswear,andsowillStephens. It hadbeenstowedawayinacornerandcoveredover withaboard,butthatcornerhadalwaysbeenempty before.” “Whatdidyoudowithit?” “Well,wejustleftitthere.” “That was wise. You say Sir Robert was away yesterday. Hashereturned?” “Weexpecthimbackto-day.” “WhendidSirRobertgiveawayhissister’sdog?” “Itwasjustaweekagoto-day. Thecreaturewas howling outside the old well-house, and Sir Robert wasinoneofhistantrumsthatmorning. Hecaught it up, and I thought he would have killed it. Then hegaveittoSandyBain,thejockey,andtoldhimto takethe dogto oldBarnesatthe GreenDragon, for heneverwishedtoseeitagain.” Holmes sat for some time in silent thought. He hadlittheoldestandfoulestofhispipes.</s>“Iamnotclearyetwhatyouwantmetodointhis matter,Mr.Mason,”hesaidatlast. “Can’tyoumake itmoredefinite?” “Perhaps this will make it more definite, Mr.</s>Holmes,”saidourvisitor.</s>He took a paper from his pocket, and, unwrap- ping it carefully, he exposed a charred fragment of bone.</s>Holmesexamineditwithinterest.</s>“Wheredidyougetit?” “There is a central heating furnace in the cellar under Lady Beatrice’s room. It’s been off for some time,butSirRobertcomplainedofcoldandhaditon again. Harveyrunsit—he’soneofmylads. Thisverymorning he came to me with this which he found rakingoutthecinders. Hedidn’tlikethelookofit.” “NordoI,”saidHolmes. “Whatdoyoumakeof it,Watson?” Itwasburnedtoablackcinder,buttherecouldbe noquestionastoitsanatomicalsignificance.</s>“It’stheuppercondyleofahumanfemur,”saidI.</s>“Exactly!” Holmes had become very serious.</s>“Whendoesthisladtendtothefurnace?” “He makes it up every evening and then leaves it.” “Thenanyonecouldvisititduringthenight?” “Yes,sir.” “Canyouenteritfromoutside?” “Thereisonedoorfromoutside. Thereisanother which leads up by a stair to the passage in which LadyBeatrice’sroomissituated.” “These are deep waters, Mr. Mason; deep and ratherdirty. YousaythatSirRobertwasnotathome lastnight?” “No,sir.” “Then, whoever was burning bones, it was not he.” “That’strue,sir.” “Whatisthenameofthatinnyouspokeof?” “TheGreenDragon.” “Is there good fishing in that part of Berkshire?” Thehonesttrainershowedveryclearlyuponhisface that he was convinced that yet another lunatic had comeintohisharassedlife.</s>“Well, sir, I’ve heard there are trout in the mill- streamandpikeintheHalllake.” “That’s good enough. Watson and I are famous fishermen—arewenot,Watson? Youmayaddressus in future at the Green Dragon. We should reach it to-night. Ineednotsaythatwedon’twanttoseeyou, Mr. Mason, but a note will reach us, and no doubt I could find you if I want you. When we have gone a little farther into the matter I will let you have a consideredopinion.” ThusitwasthatonabrightMayeveningHolmes and I found ourselves alone in a first-class carriage and bound for the little “halt-on-demand” station of Shoscombe. The rack above us was covered with a formidable litter of rods, reels, and baskets. On reachingourdestinationashortdrivetookustoan old-fashioned tavern, where a sporting host, Josiah Barnes,enteredeagerlyintoourplansfortheextirpa- tionofthefishoftheneighbourhood.</s>“What about the Hall lake and the chance of a pike?”saidHolmes.</s>Thefaceoftheinnkeeperclouded.</s>“Thatwouldn’tdo,sir. Youmightchancetofind yourselfinthelakebeforeyouwerethrough.” “How’sthat,then?” “It’sSirRobert,sir. He’sterriblejealousoftouts. If youtwostrangerswereasnearhistrainingquarters as that he’d be after you as sure as fate. He ain’t takingnochances,SirRobertain’t.” “I’veheardhehasahorseenteredfortheDerby.” “Yes, and a good colt, too. He carries all our moneyfortherace,andallSirRobert’sintothebar- gain. Bytheway”—helookedatuswiththoughtful eyes—“Isupposeyouain’tontheturfyourselves?” “No, indeed. Just two weary Londoners who badlyneedsomegoodBerkshireair.” “Well,youareintherightplaceforthat. Thereis a deal of it lying about. But mind what I have told you about Sir Robert. He’s the sort that strikes first andspeaksafterwards. Keepclearofthepark.” “Surely,Mr.Barnes! Wecertainlyshall. Bytheway, thatwasamostbeautifulspanielthatwaswhiningin thehall.” “Ishouldsayitwas. ThatwastherealShoscombe breed. Thereain’tabetterinEngland.” “Iamadog-fanciermyself,”saidHolmes. “Now, if it is a fair question, what would a prize dog like thatcost?” “MorethanIcouldpay,sir. ItwasSirRoberthim- selfwhogavemethisone. That’swhyIhavetokeep it on a lead. It would be off to the Hall in a jiffy if I gaveititshead.” “Wearegettingsomecardsinourhand,Watson,” saidHolmeswhenthelandlordhadleftus. “It’snot aneasyonetoplay,butwemayseeourwayinaday or two. By the way, Sir Robert is still in London, I hear. We might, perhaps, enter the sacred domain to-nightwithoutfearofbodilyassault. Thereareone ortwopointsonwhichIshouldlikereassurance.” “Haveyouanytheory,Holmes?” “Only this, Watson, that something happened a week or so ago which has cut deep into the life of theShoscombehousehold. Whatisthatsomething? We can only guess at it from its effects. They seem tobeofacuriouslymixedcharacter. Butthatshould surely help us. It is only the colourless, uneventful casewhichishopeless.“Letusconsiderourdata. Thebrothernolonger visits the beloved invalid sister. He gives away her favourite dog. Her dog, Watson! Does that suggest nothingtoyou?” “Nothingbutthebrother’sspite.” “Well, it might be so. Or—well, there is an alter- native. Nowtocontinueourreviewofthesituation from the time that the quarrel, if there is a quarrel, began. The lady keeps her room, alters her habits, isnotseensavewhenshedrivesoutwithhermaid, refuses to stop at the stables to greet her favourite horse,andapparentlytakestodrink. Thatcoversthe case,doesitnot?” “Saveforthebusinessinthecrypt.” “That is another line of thought. There are two, and I beg you will not tangle them. Line A, which concernsLadyBeatrice,hasavaguelysinisterflavour, hasitnot?” “Icanmakenothingofit.” “Well,now,letustakeuplineB,whichconcerns SirRobert. HeismadkeenuponwinningtheDerby.</s>He is in the hands of the Jews, and may at any mo- mentbesoldupandhisracingstablesseizedbyhis creditors. He is a daring and desperate man. He deriveshisincomefromhissister. Hissister’smaid ishiswillingtool. Sofarweseemtobeonfairlysafe ground,dowenot?” “Butthecrypt?” “Ah,yes,thecrypt! Letussuppose,Watson—itis merelyascandaloussupposition,ahypothesisputfor- wardforargument’ssake—thatSirRoberthasdone awaywithhissister.” “MydearHolmes,itisoutofthequestion.” “Very possibly, Watson. Sir Robert is a man of anhonourablestock. Butyoudooccasionallyfinda carrioncrowamongtheeagles. Letusforamoment argue upon this supposition. He could not fly the country until he had realized his fortune, and that fortune could only be realized by bringing off this coupwithShoscombePrince. Therefore,hehasstill to stand his ground. To do this he would have to disposeofthebodyofhisvictim,andhewouldalso havetofindasubstitutewhowouldimpersonateher.</s>With the maid as his confidante that would not be impossible. Thewoman’sbodymightbeconveyedto the crypt, which is a place so seldom visited, and it might be secretly destroyed at night in the furnace, leaving behind it such evidence as we have already seen. Whatsayyoutothat,Watson?” “Well, it is all possible if you grant the original monstroussupposition.” “Ithinkthatthereisasmallexperimentwhichwe maytryto-morrow,Watson,inordertothrowsome lightonthematter. Meanwhile,ifwemeantokeepup ourcharacters,Isuggestthatwehaveourhostinfor aglassofhisownwineandholdsomehighconverse upon eels and dace, which seems to be the straight roadtohisaffections. Wemaychancetocomeupon someusefullocalgossipintheprocess.” In the morning Holmes discovered that we had comewithoutourspoon-baitforjack,whichabsolved usfromfishingfortheday. Abouteleveno’clockwe startedforawalk,andheobtainedleavetotakethe blackspanielwithus.</s>“Thisistheplace,”saidheaswecametotwohigh parkgateswithheraldicgriffinstoweringabovethem.</s>“Aboutmidday,Mr.Barnesinformsme,theoldlady takesadrive,andthecarriagemustslowdownwhile the gates are opened. When it comes through, and before it gathers speed, I want you, Watson, to stop thecoachmanwithsomequestion. Nevermindme. I shallstandbehindthisholly-bushandseewhatIcan see.” Itwasnotalongvigil. Withinaquarterofanhour wesawthebigopenyellowbarouchecomingdown the long avenue, with two splendid, high-stepping graycarriagehorsesintheshafts. Holmescrouched behindhisbushwiththedog. Istoodunconcernedly swinging a cane in the roadway. A keeper ran out andthegatesswungopen.</s>Thecarriagehadslowedtoawalk,andIwasable togetagoodlookattheoccupants. Ahighlycoloured youngwomanwithflaxenhairandimpudenteyessat on the left. At her right was an elderly person with roundedbackandahuddleofshawlsaboutherface andshoulderswhichproclaimedtheinvalid. When thehorsesreachedthehighroadIheldupmyhand with an authoritative gesture, and as the coachman pulledupIinquiredifSirRobertwasatShoscombe OldPlace.</s>At the same moment Holmes stepped out and releasedthespaniel. Withajoyouscryitdashedfor- wardtothecarriageandspranguponthestep. Then in a moment its eager greeting changed to furious rage,anditsnappedattheblackskirtaboveit.</s>“Driveon! Driveon!”shriekedaharshvoice. The coachmanlashedthehorses,andwewereleftstand- ingintheroadway.</s>“Well,Watson,that’sdoneit,”saidHolmesashe fastened the lead to the neck of the excited spaniel.“Hethoughtitwashismistress,andhefounditwas astranger. Dogsdon’tmakemistakes.” “Butitwasthevoiceofaman!”Icried.</s>“Exactly! We have added one card to our hand, Watson,butitneedscarefulplaying,allthesame.” My companion seemed to have no further plans fortheday,andwedidactuallyuseourfishingtackle inthemill-stream,withtheresultthatwehadadish of trout for our supper. It was only after that meal thatHolmesshowedsignsofrenewedactivity. Once more we found ourselves upon the same road as in the morning, which led us to the park gates. A tall, dark figure was awaiting us there, who proved to be our London acquaintance, Mr. John Mason, the trainer.</s>“Good-evening,gentlemen,”saidhe. “Igotyour note, Mr. Holmes. Sir Robert has not returned yet, butIhearthatheisexpectedto-night.” “How far is this crypt from the house?” asked Holmes.</s>“Agoodquarterofamile.” “ThenIthinkwecandisregardhimaltogether.” “I can’t afford to do that, Mr. Holmes. The mo- menthearriveshewillwanttoseemetogetthelast newsofShoscombePrince.” “I see! In that case we must work without you, Mr.Mason. Youcanshowusthecryptandthenleave us.” Itwaspitch-darkandwithoutamoon,butMason ledusoverthegrass-landsuntiladarkmassloomed up in front of us which proved to be the ancient chapel. We entered the broken gap which was once the porch, and our guide, stumbling among heaps of loose masonry, picked his way to the corner of the building, where a steep stair led down into the crypt. Striking a match, he illuminated the melan- cholyplace—dismalandevil-smelling,withancient crumbling walls of rough-hewn stone, and piles of coffins, some of lead and some of stone, extending upon one side right up to the arched and groined roofwhichlostitselfintheshadowsaboveourheads.</s>Holmeshadlithislantern,whichshotatinytunnel of vivid yellow light upon the mournful scene. Its rayswerereflectedbackfromthecoffin-plates,many ofthemadornedwiththegriffinandcoronetofthis oldfamilywhichcarrieditshonourseventothegate ofDeath.</s>“Youspokeofsomebones,Mr.Mason. Couldyou showthembeforeyougo?” “Theyarehereinthiscorner.”Thetrainerstrode across and then stood in silent surprise as our light wasturnedupontheplace. “Theyaregone,”saidhe.</s>“SoIexpected,”saidHolmes,chuckling. “Ifancy the ashes of them might even now be found in that ovenwhichhadalreadyconsumedapart.” “Butwhyintheworldwouldanyonewanttoburn the bones of a man who has been dead a thousand years?”askedJohnMason.</s>“That is what we are here to find out,” said Holmes. “It may mean a long search, and we need notdetainyou. Ifancythatweshallgetoursolution beforemorning.” WhenJohnMasonhadleftus,Holmessettowork makingaverycarefulexaminationofthegraves,rang- ing from a very ancient one, which appeared to be Saxon,inthecentre,throughalonglineofNorman Hugos and Odos, until we reached the Sir William andSirDenisFalderoftheeighteenthcentury. Itwas anhourormorebeforeHolmescametoaleadencof- finstandingonendbeforetheentrancetothevault. I heardhislittlecryofsatisfactionandwasawarefrom his hurried but purposeful movements that he had reachedagoal. Withhislenshewaseagerlyexamin- ingtheedgesoftheheavylid. Thenhedrewfromhis pocketashortjemmy,abox-opener,whichhethrust into a chink, levering back the whole front, which seemed to be secured by only a couple of clamps.</s>There was a rending, tearing sound as it gave way, butithadhardlyhingedbackandpartlyrevealedthe contentsbeforewehadanunforeseeninterruption.</s>Someonewaswalkinginthechapelabove. Itwas thefirm,rapidstepofonewhocamewithadefinite purpose and knew well the ground upon which he walked. A light streamed down the stairs, and an instantlaterthemanwhoboreitwasframedinthe Gothic archway. He was a terrible figure, huge in stature and fierce in manner. A large stable-lantern which he held in front of him shone upward upon a strong, heavily moustached face and angry eyes, whichglaredroundhimintoeveryrecessofthevault, finallyfixingthemselveswithadeadlystareuponmy companionandmyself.</s>“Who the devil are you?” he thundered. “And what are you doing upon my property?” Then, as Holmesreturnednoanswer,hetookacoupleofsteps forward and raised a heavy stick which he carried.</s>“Do you hear me?” he cried. “Who are you? What areyoudoinghere?”Hiscudgelquiveredintheair.</s>ButinsteadofshrinkingHolmesadvancedtomeet him.“Ialsohaveaquestiontoaskyou,SirRobert,”he saidinhissternesttone. “Whoisthis? Andwhatisit doinghere?” Heturnedandtoreopenthecoffin-lidbehindhim.</s>IntheglareofthelanternIsawabodyswathedina sheetfromheadtofoot,withdreadful,witch-likefea- tures,allnoseandchin,projectingatoneend,thedim, glazedeyesstaringfromadiscolouredandcrumbling face.</s>The baronet had staggered back with a cry and supportedhimselfagainstastonesarcophagus.</s>“Howcameyoutoknowofthis?”hecried. And then, with some return of his truculent manner: “Whatbusinessisitofyours?” “MynameisSherlockHolmes,”saidmycompan- ion. “Possibly it is familiar to you. In any case, my business is that of every other good citizen—to up- hold the law. It seems to me that you have much to answerfor.” Sir Robert glared for a moment, but Holmes’s quietvoiceandcool,assuredmannerhadtheireffect.</s>“‘Fore God, Mr. Holmes, it’s all right,” said he.</s>“Appearancesareagainstme,I’lladmit,butIcould actnootherwise.” “I should be happy to think so, but I fear your explanationsmustbebeforethepolice.” SirRobertshruggedhisbroadshoulders.</s>“Well, if it must be, it must. Come up to the houseandyoucanjudgeforyourselfhowthematter stands.” A quarter of an hour later we found ourselves in what I judge, from the lines of polished barrels behind glass covers, to be the gun-room of the old house. It was comfortably furnished, and here Sir Robertleftusforafewmoments. Whenhereturned hehadtwocompanionswithhim;theone,theflorid young woman whom we had seen in the carriage; theother,asmallrat-facedmanwithadisagreeably furtivemanner. Thesetwoworeanappearanceofut- terbewilderment,whichshowedthatthebaronethad not yet had time to explain to them the turn events hadtaken.</s>“There,”saidSirRobertwithawaveofhishand, “are Mr. and Mrs. Norlett. Mrs. Norlett, under her maidennameofEvans,hasforsomeyearsbeenmy sister’sconfidentialmaid. Ihavebroughtthemhere because I feel that my best course is to explain the true position to you, and they are the two people uponearthwhocansubstantiatewhatIsay.” “Isthisnecessary,SirRobert? Haveyouthought whatyouaredoing?”criedthewoman.</s>“As to me, I entirely disclaim all responsibility,” saidherhusband.</s>SirRobertgavehimaglanceofcontempt. “Iwill take all responsibility,” said he. “Now, Mr. Holmes, listentoaplainstatementofthefacts.</s>“Youhaveclearlygoneprettydeeplyintomyaf- fairs or I should not have found you where I did.</s>Therefore, you know already, in all probability, that I am running a dark horse for the Derby and that everythingdependsuponmysuccess. IfIwin,allis easy. IfIlose—well,Idarenotthinkofthat!” “Iunderstandtheposition,”saidHolmes.</s>“I am dependent upon my sister, Lady Beatrice, foreverything. Butitiswellknownthatherinterest intheestateisforherownlifeonly. Formyself,Iam deeplyinthehandsoftheJews. Ihavealwaysknown that if my sister were to die my creditors would be on to my estate like a flock of vultures. Everything wouldbeseized—mystables,myhorses—everything.</s>Well,Mr.Holmes,mysisterdiddiejustaweekago.” “Andyoutoldnoone!” “What could I do? Absolute ruin faced me. If I could stave things off for three weeks all would be well. Hermaid’shusband—thismanhere—isanactor.</s>Itcameintoourheads—itcameintomyhead—that hecouldforthatshortperiodpersonatemysister. It wasbutacaseofappearingdailyinthecarriage,for no one need enter her room save the maid. It was notdifficulttoarrange. Mysisterdiedofthedropsy whichhadlongafflictedher.” “Thatwillbeforacoronertodecide.” “Her doctor would certify that for months her symptomshavethreatenedsuchanend.” “Well,whatdidyoudo?” “The body could not remain there. On the first nightNorlettandIcarrieditouttotheoldwell-house, whichisnowneverused. Wewerefollowed,however, byher pet spaniel, which yapped continually at the door,soIfeltsomesaferplacewasneeded. Igotrid ofthespaniel,andwecarriedthebodytothecryptof thechurch. Therewasnoindignityorirreverence,Mr.</s>Holmes. IdonotfeelthatIhavewrongedthedead.” “Your conduct seems to me inexcusable, Sir Robert.” The baronet shook his head impatiently. “It is easy to preach,” said he. “Perhaps you would have felt differently if you had been in my position. Onecannot see all one’s hopes and all one’s plans shat- teredatthelastmomentandmakenoefforttosave them. Itseemedtomethatitwouldbenounworthy resting-placeifweputherforthetimeinoneofthe coffins of her husband’s ancestors lying in what is still consecrated ground. We opened such a coffin, removed the contents, and placed her as you have seenher. Astotheoldrelicswhichwetookout,we couldnotleavethemonthefloorofthecrypt. Norlett andIremovedthem,andhedescendedatnightand burnedtheminthecentralfurnace. Thereismystory, Mr.Holmes,thoughhowyouforcedmyhandsothat IhavetotellitismorethanIcansay.” Holmessatforsometimelostinthought.</s>“Thereisoneflawinyournarrative,SirRobert,” hesaidatlast. “Yourbetsontherace,andtherefore your hopes for the future, would hold good even if yourcreditorsseizedyourestate.” “Thehorsewouldbepartoftheestate. Whatdo they care for my bets? As likely as not they would not run him at all. My chief creditor is, unhappily, mymostbitterenemy—arascallyfellow,SamBrewer, whom I was once compelled to horsewhip on New- marketHeath. Doyousupposethathewouldtryto saveme?” “Well,SirRobert,”saidHolmes,rising,“thismat- ter must, of course, be referred to the police. It was mydutytobringthefactstolight,andthereImust leave it. As to the morality or decency of your con- duct,itisnotformetoexpressanopinion. Itisnearly midnight,Watson,andIthinkwemaymakeourway backtoourhumbleabode.” It is generally known now that this singular episodeendeduponahappiernotethanSirRobert’s actions deserved. Shoscombe Prince did win the Derby, the sporting owner did net eighty thousand poundsinbets,andthecreditorsdidholdtheirhand untiltheracewasover,whentheywerepaidinfull, andenoughwaslefttoreestablishSirRobertinafair positioninlife. Bothpoliceandcoronertookalenient viewofthetransaction,andbeyondamildcensurefor thedelayinregisteringthelady’sdecease,thelucky ownergotawayscathelessfromthisstrangeincident inacareerwhichhasnowoutliveditsshadowsand promisestoendinanhonouredoldage.herlockHolmeswasinamelancholyand philosophic mood that morning. His alert practical nature was subject to such reac- S tions.</s>“Didyouseehim?”heasked.</s>“Youmeantheoldfellowwhohasjustgoneout?” “Precisely.” “Yes,Imethimatthedoor.” “Whatdidyouthinkofhim?” “Apathetic,futile,brokencreature.” “Exactly,Watson. Patheticandfutile. Butisnotall lifepatheticandfutile? Isnothisstoryamicrocosm ofthewhole? Wereach. Wegrasp. Andwhatisleft inourhandsattheend? Ashadow. Orworsethana shadow—misery.” “Isheoneofyourclients?” “Well, I suppose I may call him so. He has been sentonbytheYard. Justasmedicalmenoccasionally sendtheirincurablestoaquack. Theyarguethatthey candonothingmore,andthatwhateverhappensthe patientcanbenoworsethanheis.” “Whatisthematter?” Holmes took a rather soiled card from the table.</s>“Josiah Amberley. He says he was junior partner ofBrickfallandAmberley,whoaremanufacturersof artisticmaterials. Youwillseetheirnamesuponpaint- boxes. Hemadehislittlepile,retiredfrombusiness attheageofsixty-one,boughtahouseatLewisham, andsettleddowntorestafteralifeofceaselessgrind.</s>Onewouldthinkhisfuturewastolerablyassured.” “Yes,indeed.” Holmes glanced over some notes which he had scribbleduponthebackofanenvelope.</s>“Retiredin1896,Watson. Earlyin1897hemarried awomantwentyyearsyoungerthanhimself—agood- lookingwoman,too,ifthephotographdoesnotflatter.</s>A competence, a wife, leisure—it seemed a straight roadwhichlaybeforehim. Andyetwithintwoyears he is, as you have seen, as broken and miserable a creatureascrawlsbeneaththesun.” “Butwhathashappened?” “Theoldstory,Watson. Atreacherousfriendand a fickle wife. It would appear that Amberley has one hobby in life, and it is chess. Not far from him at Lewisham there lives a young doctor who is also a chess-player. I have noted his name as Dr. Ray Ernest. Ernest was frequently in the house, and an intimacybetweenhimandMrs.Amberleywasanatu- ralsequence,foryoumustadmitthatourunfortunate client has few outward graces, whatever his inner virtues may be. The couple went off together last week—destinationuntraced. Whatismore,thefaith- lessspousecarriedofftheoldman’sdeed-boxasher personal luggage with a good part of his life’s sav- ingswithin. Canwefindthelady? Canwesavethe money? A commonplace problem so far as it has developed,andyetavitaloneforJosiahAmberley.” “Whatwillyoudoaboutit?” “Well, the immediate question, my dear Watson, happenstobe,Whatwillyoudo?—ifyouwillbegood enoughtounderstudyme. YouknowthatIampre- occupiedwiththiscaseofthetwoCopticPatriarchs, whichshouldcometoaheadto-day. Ireallyhavenot timetogoouttoLewisham,andyetevidencetaken on the spot has a special value. The old fellow was quite insistent that I should go, but I explained my difficulty. Heispreparedtomeetarepresentative.” “Byallmeans,”Ianswered. “IconfessIdon’tsee thatIcanbeofmuchservice,butIamwillingtodo mybest.”Andsoitwasthatonasummerafternoon IsetforthtoLewisham,littledreamingthatwithina weektheaffairinwhichIwasengagingwouldbethe eagerdebateofallEngland.</s>ItwaslatethateveningbeforeIreturnedtoBaker Street and gave an account of my mission. Holmes laywithhisgauntfigurestretchedinhisdeepchair, hispipecurlingforthslowwreathsofacridtobacco, whilehiseyelidsdroopedoverhiseyessolazilythat hemightalmosthavebeenasleepwereitnotthatat anyhaltorquestionablepassageofmynarrativethey halflifted,andtwograyeyes,asbrightandkeenas rapiers,transfixedmewiththeirsearchingglance.</s>“TheHavenisthenameofMr.JosiahAmberley’s house,” I explained. “I think it would interest you, Holmes. Itislikesomepenuriouspatricianwhohas sunk into the company of his inferiors. You know thatparticularquarter,themonotonousbrickstreets, the weary suburban highways. Right in the middle ofthem,alittleislandofancientcultureandcomfort, liesthisoldhome,surroundedbyahighsun-baked wallmottledwithlichensandtoppedwithmoss,the sortofwall—” “Cut out the poetry, Watson,” said Holmes severely. “Inotethatitwasahighbrickwall.” “Exactly. IshouldnothaveknownwhichwasThe HavenhadInotaskedaloungerwhowassmoking inthestreet. Ihaveareasonformentioninghim. He wasatall,dark,heavilymoustached,rathermilitary- looking man. He nodded in answer to my inquiry and gave me a curiously questioning glance, which camebacktomymemoryalittlelater.“I had hardly entered the gateway before I saw Mr. Amberley coming down the drive. I only had a glimpse of him this morning, and he certainly gave metheimpressionofastrangecreature,butwhenI sawhiminfulllighthisappearancewasevenmore abnormal.” “Ihave,ofcourse,studiedit,andyetIshouldbe interestedtohaveyourimpression,”saidHolmes.</s>“He seemed to me like a man who was literally boweddownbycare. Hisbackwascurvedasthough hecarriedaheavyburden. Yethewasnottheweak- lingthatIhadatfirstimagined,forhisshouldersand chesthavetheframeworkofagiant,thoughhisfigure tapersawayintoapairofspindledlegs.” “Leftshoewrinkled,rightonesmooth.” “Ididnotobservethat.” “No, you wouldn’t. I spotted his artificial limb.</s>Butproceed.” “Iwasstruckbythesnakylocksofgrizzledhair which curled from under his old straw hat, and his facewithitsfierce,eagerexpressionandthedeeply linedfeatures.” “Verygood,Watson. Whatdidhesay?” “Hebeganpouringoutthestoryofhisgrievances.</s>Wewalkeddownthedrivetogether,andofcourseI took a good look round. I have never seen a worse- keptplace. Thegardenwasallrunningtoseed,giving meanimpressionofwildneglectinwhichtheplants had been allowed to find the way of Nature rather thanofart. Howanydecentwomancouldhavetoler- atedsuchastateofthings,Idon’tknow. Thehouse, too, was slatternly to the last degree, but the poor manseemedhimselftobeawareofitandtobetrying to remedy it, for a great pot of green paint stood in the centre of the hall, and he was carrying a thick brushinhislefthand. Hehadbeenworkingonthe woodwork.</s>“Hetookmeintohisdingysanctum,andwehad alongchat. Ofcourse,hewasdisappointedthatyou had not come yourself. ‘I hardly expected,’ he said, ‘that so humble an individual as myself, especially after my heavy financial loss, could obtain the com- plete attention of so famous a man as Mr. Sherlock Holmes.’ “Iassuredhimthatthefinancialquestiondidnot arise. ‘No, of course, it is art for art’s sake with him,’ said he, ‘but even on the artistic side of crime he might have found something here to study. And humannature,Dr.Watson—theblackingratitudeof it all! When did I ever refuse one of her requests? Was ever a woman so pampered? And that young man—hemighthavebeenmyownson. Hehadthe runofmyhouse. Andyetseehowtheyhavetreated me! Oh,Dr.Watson,itisadreadful,dreadfulworld!’ “That was the burden of his song for an hour or more. Hehad, it seems, no suspicionof anintrigue.</s>They lived alone save for a woman who comes in by the day and leaves every evening at six. On that particulareveningoldAmberley,wishingtogivehis wife a treat, had taken two upper circle seats at the HaymarketTheatre. Atthelastmomentshehadcom- plainedofaheadacheandhadrefusedtogo. Hehad gonealone. Thereseemedtobenodoubtaboutthe fact,forheproducedtheunusedticketwhichhehad takenforhiswife.” “That is remarkable—most remarkable,” said Holmes,whoseinterestinthecaseseemedtoberising.</s>“Pray continue, Watson. I find your narrative most arresting. Did you personally examine this ticket? Youdidnot,perchance,takethenumber?” “ItsohappensthatIdid,”Iansweredwithsome pride. “Itchancedtobemyoldschoolnumber,thirty- one,andsoisstuckinmyhead.” “Excellent, Watson! His seat, then, was either thirtyorthirty-two.” “Quite so,” I answered with some mystification.</s>“AndonBrow.” “That is most satisfactory. What else did he tell you?” “Heshowedmehisstrong-room,ashecalledit. It reallyisastrong-room—likeabank—withirondoor andshutter—burglar-proof,asheclaimed. However, thewomanseemstohavehadaduplicatekey,andbe- tweenthemtheyhadcarriedoffsomeseventhousand pounds’worthofcashandsecurities.” “Securities! Howcouldtheydisposeofthose?” “He said that he had given the police a list and thathehopedtheywouldbeunsaleable. Hehadgot backfromthetheatreaboutmidnightandfoundthe placeplundered,thedoorandwindowopen,andthe fugitives gone. There was no letter or message, nor hasheheardawordsince. Heatoncegavethealarm tothepolice.” Holmesbroodedforsomeminutes.</s>“Yousayhewaspainting. Whatwashepainting?” “Well, he was painting the passage. But he had alreadypaintedthedoorandwoodworkofthisroom Ispokeof.” “Doesitnotstrikeyouasastrangeoccupationin thecircumstances?”“‘Onemustdosomethingtoeaseanachingheart.’ That was his own explanation. It was eccentric, no doubt,butheisclearlyaneccentricman. Hetoreup oneofhiswife’sphotographsinmypresence—toreit upfuriouslyinatempestofpassion. ‘Ineverwishto seeherdamnedfaceagain,’heshrieked.” “Anythingmore,Watson?” “Yes, one thing which struck me more than any- thing else. I had driven to the Blackheath Station and had caught my train there when, just as it was starting, I saw a man dart into the carriage next to myown. YouknowthatIhaveaquickeyeforfaces, Holmes. Itwasundoubtedlythetall,darkmanwhom Ihadaddressedinthestreet. Isawhimoncemoreat LondonBridge,andthenIlosthiminthecrowd. But Iamconvincedthathewasfollowingme.” “Nodoubt! Nodoubt!”saidHolmes. “Atall,dark, heavily moustached man, you say, with gray-tinted sun-glasses?” “Holmes,youareawizard. Ididnotsayso,but hehadgray-tintedsun-glasses.” “AndaMasonictie-pin?” “Holmes!” “Quite simple, my dear Watson. But let us get down to what is practical. I must admit to you that thecase,whichseemedtometobesoabsurdlysimple astobehardlyworthmynotice,israpidlyassuming averydifferentaspect. Itistruethatthoughinyour mission you have missed everything of importance, yeteventhosethingswhichhaveobtrudedthemselves uponyournoticegiverisetoseriousthought.” “WhathaveImissed?” “Don’tbehurt,mydearfellow. YouknowthatI amquiteimpersonal. Nooneelsewouldhavedone better. Somepossiblynotsowell. Butclearlyyouhave missedsomevitalpoints. Whatistheopinionofthe neighbours about this man Amberley and his wife? Thatsurelyisofimportance. WhatofDr.Ernest? Was he the gay Lothario one would expect? With your naturaladvantages,Watson,everyladyisyourhelper andaccomplice. Whataboutthegirlatthepost-office, orthewifeofthegreengrocer? Icanpictureyouwhis- peringsoftnothingswiththeyoungladyattheBlue Anchor,andreceivinghardsomethingsinexchange.</s>Allthisyouhaveleftundone.” “Itcanstillbedone.” “It has been done. Thanks to the telephone and thehelpoftheYard,Icanusuallygetmyessentials withoutleavingthisroom. Asamatteroffact,myin- formationconfirmstheman’sstory. Hehasthelocal reputeofbeingamiseraswellasaharshandexacting husband. Thathehadalargesumofmoneyinthat strong-roomofhisiscertain. Soalsoisitthatyoung Dr.Ernest,anunmarriedman,playedchesswithAm- berley, and probably played the fool with his wife.</s>Allthisseemsplainsailing,andonewouldthinkthat therewasnomoretobesaid—andyet!—andyet!” “Whereliesthedifficulty?” “Inmyimagination,perhaps. Well,leaveitthere, Watson. Let us escape from this weary workaday world by the side door of music. Carina sings to- night at the Albert Hall, and we still have time to dress,dine,andenjoy.” InthemorningIwasupbetimes,butsometoast crumbs and two empty egg-shells told me that my companionwasearlierstill. Ifoundascribblednote uponthetable.</s>DearWatson: There are one or two points of contact whichIshouldwishtoestablishwithMr.</s>JosiahAmberley. WhenIhavedonesowe candismissthecase—ornot. Iwouldonly askyoutobeonhandaboutthreeo’clock, as I conceive it possible that I may want you.</s>—S.H.</s>I saw nothing of Holmes all day, but at the hour namedhereturned,grave,preoccupied,andaloof. At suchtimesitwaswisertoleavehimtohimself.</s>“HasAmberleybeenhereyet?” “No.” “Ah! Iamexpectinghim.” He was not disappointed, for presently the old fellow arrived with a very worried and puzzled ex- pressionuponhisaustereface.</s>“I’ve had a telegram, Mr. Holmes. I can make nothingofit.”Hehandeditover,andHolmesreadit aloud.</s>“Come at once without fail. Can give youinformationastoyourrecentloss.</s>—“Elman.</s>“TheVicarage.“Dispatchedat2.10fromLittlePurlington,”said Holmes. “LittlePurlingtonisinEssex,Ibelieve,not farfromFrinton. Well,ofcourseyouwillstartatonce.</s>Thisisevidentlyfromaresponsibleperson,thevicar of the place. Where is my Crockford? Yes, here we have him: ‘J. C. Elman, M. A., Living of Moosmoor cumLittlePurlington.’ Lookupthetrains,Watson.” “Thereisoneat5.20fromLiverpoolStreet.” “Excellent. Youhadbestgowithhim,Watson. He mayneedhelporadvice. Clearlywehavecometoa crisisinthisaffair.” Butourclientseemedbynomeanseagertostart.</s>“It’s perfectly absurd, Mr. Holmes,” he said.</s>“What can this man possibly know of what has oc- curred? Itiswasteoftimeandmoney.” “Hewouldnothavetelegraphedtoyouifhedid notknowsomething. Wireatoncethatyouarecom- ing.” “Idon’tthinkIshallgo.” Holmesassumedhissternestaspect.</s>“It would make the worst possible impression both on the police and upon myself, Mr. Amberley, ifwhensoobviousacluearoseyoushouldrefuseto followitup. Weshouldfeelthatyouwerenotreally inearnestinthisinvestigation.” Ourclientseemedhorrifiedatthesuggestion.</s>“Why,ofcourseIshallgoifyoulookatitinthat way,” said he. “On the face of it, it seems absurd to supposethatthispersonknowsanything,butifyou think—” “Idothink,”saidHolmeswithemphasis,andso we were launched upon our journey. Holmes took me aside before we left the room and gave me one word of counsel, which showed that he considered the matter to be of importance. “Whatever you do, seethathereallydoesgo,”saidhe. “Shouldhebreak awayorreturn,gettothenearesttelephoneexchange andsendthesingleword‘Bolted.’ Iwillarrangehere thatitshallreachmewhereverIam.” LittlePurlingtonisnotaneasyplacetoreach,forit isonabranchline. Myremembranceofthejourneyis notapleasantone,fortheweatherwashot,thetrain slow, and my companion sullen and silent, hardly talkingatallsavetomakeanoccasionalsardonicre- markastothefutilityofourproceedings. Whenwe atlastreachedthelittlestationitwasatwo-miledrive beforewecametotheVicarage,whereabig,solemn, rather pompousclergymanreceived us inhis study.</s>Ourtelegramlaybeforehim.</s>“Well, gentlemen,” he asked, “what can I do for you?” “Wecame,”Iexplained,“inanswertoyourwire.” “Mywire! Isentnowire.” “I mean the wire which you sent to Mr. Josiah Amberleyabouthiswifeandhismoney.” “Ifthisisajoke,sir,itisaveryquestionableone,” said the vicar angrily. “I have never heard of the gentleman you name, and I have not sent a wire to anyone.” Our client and I looked at each other in amaze- ment.</s>“Perhapsthereissomemistake,”saidI;“arethere perhapstwovicarages? Hereisthewireitself,signed ElmananddatedfromtheVicarage.” “Thereisonlyonevicarage,sir,andonlyonevicar, and this wire is a scandalous forgery, the origin of which shall certainly be investigated by the police.</s>Meanwhile,Icanseenopossibleobjectinprolonging thisinterview.” So Mr. Amberley and I found ourselves on the roadsideinwhatseemedtometobethemostprim- itive village in England. We made for the telegraph office, but it was already closed. There was a tele- phone, however, at the little Railway Arms, and by it I got into touch with Holmes, who shared in our amazementattheresultofourjourney.</s>“Mostsingular!”saidthedistantvoice. “Mostre- markable! I much fear, my dear Watson, that there is no return train to-night. I have unwittingly con- demnedyoutothehorrorsofacountryinn. However, there is always Nature, Watson—Nature and Josiah Amberley—youcanbeinclosecommunewithboth.” Iheardhisdrychuckleasheturnedaway.</s>Itwassoonapparenttomethatmycompanion’s reputation as a miser was not undeserved. He had grumbledattheexpenseofthejourney,hadinsisted upontravellingthird-class,andwasnowclamorous inhisobjectionstothehotelbill. Nextmorning,when we did at last arrive in London, it was hard to say whichofuswasintheworsehumour.</s>“YouhadbesttakeBakerStreetaswepass,”said I.“Mr.Holmesmayhavesomefreshinstructions.” “Iftheyarenotworthmorethanthelastonesthey arenotofmuchuse,”saidAmberleywithamalev- olent scowl. None the less, he kept me company. I hadalreadywarnedHolmesbytelegramofthehour of our arrival, but we found a message waiting that hewasatLewishamandwouldexpectusthere. That was a surprise, but an even greater one was to find thathewasnotaloneinthesitting-roomofourclient.</s>Astern-looking,impassivemansatbesidehim,adarkmanwithgray-tintedglassesandalargeMasonicpin projectingfromhistie.</s>“ThisismyfriendMr.Barker,”saidHolmes. “He has been interesting himself also in your business, Mr.JosiahAmberley,thoughwehavebeenworking independently. Butwebothhavethesamequestion toaskyou!” Mr. Amberley sat down heavily. He sensed im- pendingdanger. Ireaditinhisstrainingeyesandhis twitchingfeatures.</s>“Whatisthequestion,Mr.Holmes?” “Onlythis: Whatdidyoudowiththebodies?” Themansprangtohisfeetwithahoarsescream.</s>He clawed into the air with his bony hands. His mouth was open, and for the instant he looked like somehorriblebirdofprey. Inaflashwegotaglimpse oftherealJosiahAmberley,amisshapendemonwith a soul as distorted as his body. As he fell back into hischairheclappedhishandtohislipsasiftostifle acough. Holmessprangathisthroatlikeatigerand twistedhisfacetowardstheground. Awhitepellet fellfrombetweenhisgaspinglips.</s>“Noshortcuts,JosiahAmberley. Thingsmustbe donedecentlyandinorder. Whataboutit,Barker?” “Ihaveacabatthedoor,”saidourtaciturncom- panion.</s>“Itisonlyafewhundredyardstothestation. We willgotogether. Youcanstayhere,Watson. Ishallbe backwithinhalfanhour.” The old colourman had the strength of a lion in that great trunk of his, but he was helpless in the hands of the two experienced man-handlers. Wrig- glingandtwistinghewasdraggedtothewaitingcab, and I was left to my solitary vigil in the ill-omened house. In less time than he had named, however, Holmes was back, in company with a smart young policeinspector.</s>“I’veleftBarkertolookaftertheformalities,”said Holmes. “YouhadnotmetBarker,Watson. Heismy hatedrivalupontheSurreyshore. Whenyousaida talldarkmanitwasnotdifficultformetocomplete the picture. He has several good cases to his credit, hashenot,Inspector?” “He has certainly interfered several times,” the inspectoransweredwithreserve.</s>“Hismethodsareirregular,nodoubt,likemyown.</s>Theirregularsareusefulsometimes,youknow. You, for example, with your compulsory warning about whateverhesaidbeingusedagainsthim,couldnever havebluffedthisrascalintowhatisvirtuallyaconfes- sion.” “Perhaps not. But we get there all the same, Mr.</s>Holmes. Don’timaginethatwehadnotformedour ownviewsofthiscase,andthatwewouldnothave laid our hands on our man. You will excuse us for feelingsorewhenyoujumpinwithmethodswhich wecannotuse,andsorobusofthecredit.” “There shall be no such robbery, MacKinnon. I assureyouthatIeffacemyselffromnowonward,and as to Barker, he has done nothing save what I told him.” Theinspectorseemedconsiderablyrelieved.</s>“That is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes.</s>Praiseorblamecanmatterlittletoyou,butitisvery different to us when the newspapers begin to ask questions.” “Quiteso. Buttheyareprettysuretoaskquestions anyhow,soitwouldbeaswelltohaveanswers. What will you say, for example, when the intelligent and enterprisingreporterasksyouwhattheexactpoints werewhicharousedyoursuspicion,andfinallygave youacertainconvictionastotherealfacts?” Theinspectorlookedpuzzled.</s>“Wedon’tseemtohavegotanyrealfactsyet,Mr.</s>Holmes. You say that the prisoner, in the presence ofthreewitnesses,practicallyconfessedbytryingto commit suicide, that he had murdered his wife and herlover. Whatotherfactshaveyou?” “Haveyouarrangedforasearch?” “Therearethreeconstablesontheirway.” “Then you will soon get the clearest fact of all.</s>The bodies cannot be far away. Try the cellars and the garden. It should not take long to dig up the likelyplaces. Thishouseisolderthanthewater-pipes.</s>There must be a disused well somewhere. Try your luckthere.” “But how did you know of it, and how was it done?” “I’ll show you first how it was done, and then I will give the explanation which is due to you, and evenmoretomylong-sufferingfriendhere,whohas been invaluable throughout. But, first, Iwould give youaninsightintothisman’smentality. Itisavery unusualone—somuchsothatIthinkhisdestination ismorelikelytobeBroadmoorthanthescaffold. He has, to a high degree, the sort of mind which one associates with the mediaeval Italian nature rather than with the modern Briton. He was a miserable miser who made his wife so wretched by his nig- gardly ways that she was a ready prey for any ad- venturer. Such a one came upon the scene in theperson of this chess-playing doctor. Amberley ex- celled at chess—one mark, Watson, of a scheming mind. Likeallmisers,hewasajealousman,andhis jealousybecameafranticmania. Rightlyorwrongly, hesuspectedanintrigue. Hedeterminedtohavehis revenge,andheplanneditwithdiabolicalcleverness.</s>Comehere!” Holmes led us along the passage with as much certaintyasifhehadlivedinthehouseandhaltedat theopendoorofthestrong-room.</s>“Pooh! What an awful smell of paint!” cried the inspector.</s>“Thatwasourfirstclue,”saidHolmes. “Youcan thank Dr. Watson’s observation for that, though he failedtodrawtheinference. Itsetmyfootuponthe trail. Why should this man at such a time be filling his house with strong odours? Obviously, to cover someothersmellwhichhewishedtoconceal—some guilty smell which would suggest suspicions. Then came the idea of a room such as you see here with iron door and shutter—a hermetically sealed room.</s>Put those two facts together, and whither do they lead? I could onlydetermine that by examining the house myself. I was already certain that the case wasserious,forIhadexaminedthebox-officechart at the Haymarket Theatre—another of Dr. Watson’s bull’s-eyes—andascertainedthatneitherBthirtynor thirty-twooftheuppercirclehadbeenoccupiedthat night. Therefore,Amberleyhadnotbeentothethe- atre,andhisalibifelltotheground. Hemadeabad slip when he allowed my astute friend to notice the number of the seat taken for his wife. The question nowarosehowImightbeabletoexaminethehouse.</s>IsentanagenttothemostimpossiblevillageIcould thinkof,andsummonedmymantoitatsuchanhour that he could not possibly get back. To prevent any miscarriage,Dr.Watsonaccompaniedhim. Thegood vicar’snameItook, ofcourse, outofmyCrockford.</s>DoImakeitallcleartoyou?” “It is masterly,” said the inspector in an awed voice.</s>“TherebeingnofearofinterruptionIproceeded to burgle the house. Burglary has always been an alternative profession had I cared to adopt it, and I havelittledoubtthatIshouldhavecometothefront.</s>ObservewhatIfound. Youseethegas-pipealongthe skirting here. Very good. It rises in the angle of the wall, and there is a tap here in the corner. The pipe runs out into the strong-room, as you can see, and ends in that plaster rose in the centre of the ceiling, whereitisconcealedbytheornamentation. Thatend iswideopen. Atanymomentbyturningtheoutside tap the room could be flooded with gas. With door and shutter closed and the tap full on I would not give two minutes of conscious sensation to anyone shutupinthatlittlechamber. Bywhatdevilishdevice hedecoyedthemthereIdonotknow,butonceinside thedoortheywereathismercy.” The inspector examined the pipe with interest.</s>“Oneofourofficersmentionedthesmellofgas,”said he, “but of course the window and door were open then,andthepaint—orsomeofit—wasalreadyabout.</s>He had begun the work of painting the day before, accordingtohisstory. Butwhatnext,Mr.Holmes?” “Well,thencameanincidentwhichwasratherun- expectedtomyself. Iwasslippingthroughthepantry windowintheearlydawnwhenIfeltahandinside my collar, and a voice said: ‘Now, you rascal, what areyoudoinginthere?’ WhenIcouldtwistmyhead roundIlookedintothetintedspectaclesofmyfriend andrival,Mr.Barker. Itwasacuriousforegathering and set us both smiling. It seems that he had been engagedbyDr.RayErnest’sfamilytomakesomein- vestigationsandhadcometothesameconclusionas tofoulplay. Hehadwatchedthehouseforsomedays andhadspottedDr.Watsonasoneoftheobviously suspiciouscharacterswhohadcalledthere. Hecould hardlyarrestWatson,butwhenhesawamanactually climbingoutofthepantrywindowtherecamealimit to his restraint. Of course, I told him how matters stoodandwecontinuedthecasetogether.” “Whyhim? Whynotus?” “Becauseitwasinmymindtoputthatlittletest whichansweredsoadmirably. Ifearyouwouldnot havegonesofar.” Theinspectorsmiled.</s>“Well, maybe not. I understand that I have your word,Mr.Holmes,thatyousteprightoutofthecase nowandthatyouturnallyourresultsovertous.” “Certainly,thatisalwaysmycustom.” “Well, in the name of the force I thank you. It seems a clear case, as you put it, and there can’t be muchdifficultyoverthebodies.” “I’llshowyouagrimlittlebitofevidence,”said Holmes,“andIamsureAmberleyhimselfneverob- served it. You’ll get results, Inspector, by always puttingyourselfintheotherfellow’splace,andthink- ingwhatyouwoulddoyourself. Ittakessomeimag- ination, but it pays. Now, we will suppose that you wereshutupinthislittleroom,hadnottwominutes to live, but wanted to get even with the fiend who wasprobablymockingatyoufromtheothersideof thedoor. Whatwouldyoudo?”“Writeamessage.” “Exactly. You would like to tell people how you died. Nousewritingonpaper. Thatwouldbeseen.</s>Ifyouwroteonthewallsomeonemightrestuponit.</s>Now, look here! Just above the skirting is scribbled withapurpleindeliblepencil: ‘Wewe—’That’sall.” “Whatdoyoumakeofthat?” “Well,it’sonlyafootabovetheground. Thepoor devil was on the floor dying when he wrote it. He losthissensesbeforehecouldfinish.” “Hewaswriting,‘Weweremurdered.’” “That’s how I read it. If you find an indelible pencilonthebody—” “We’lllookoutforit,youmaybesure. Butthose securities? Clearlytherewasnorobberyatall. And yethedidpossessthosebonds. Weverifiedthat.” “You may be sure he has them hidden in a safe place. When the whole elopement had passed into history, he would suddenly discover them and an- nouncethattheguiltycouplehadrelentedandsent backtheplunderorhaddroppeditontheway.” “Youcertainlyseemtohavemeteverydifficulty,” saidtheinspector. “Ofcourse,hewasboundtocall us in, but why he should have gone to you I can’t understand.” “Pure swank!” Holmes answered. “He felt so clever and so sure of himself that he imagined no one could touch him. He could say to any suspi- cious neighbour, ‘Look at the steps I have taken. I haveconsultednotonlythepolicebutevenSherlock Holmes.’” Theinspectorlaughed.</s>“We must forgive you your ‘even,’ Mr. Holmes,” saidhe,“it’sasworkmanlikeajobasIcanremember.” Acoupleofdayslatermyfriendtossedacrossto meacopyofthebi-weeklyNorthSurreyObserver. Un- deraseriesofflamingheadlines,whichbeganwith “TheHavenHorror”andendedwith“BrilliantPolice Investigation,” there was a packed column of print whichgavethefirstconsecutiveaccountoftheaffair.</s>Theconcludingparagraphistypicalofthewhole. It ranthus: The remarkable acumen by which Inspector MacKinnon deduced from the smell of paint that some other smell, that of gas, for exam- ple, might be concealed; the bold deduction that the strong-room might also be the death- chamber, and the subsequent inquiry which led to the discovery of the bodies in a dis- usedwell,cleverlyconcealedbyadog-kennel, shouldliveinthehistoryofcrimeasastand- ing example of the intelligence of our profes- sionaldetectives.</s>“Well,well,MacKinnonisagoodfellow,”saidHolmes withatolerantsmile. “Youcanfileitinourarchives, Watson. Somedaythetruestorymaybetold.”