The Adventure of the Devil's Foot

By

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

In recording from time to time some of the curious experiences andinteresting recollections which I associate with my long and intimatefriendship with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I have continually been faced bydifficulties caused by his own aversion to publicity. To his sombreand cynical spirit all popular applause was always abhorrent, andnothing amused him more at the end of a successful case than to handover the actual exposure to some orthodox official, and to listen witha mocking smile to the general chorus of misplaced congratulation. Itwas indeed this attitude upon the part of my friend and certainly notany lack of interesting material which has caused me of late years tolay very few of my records before the public. My participation in someif his adventures was always a privilege which entailed discretion andreticence upon me. 

It was, then, with considerable surprise that I received a telegramfrom Homes last Tuesday--he has never been known to write where atelegram would serve--in the following terms:

Why not tell them of the Cornish horror--strangest case I have handled. 

I have no idea what backward sweep of memory had brought the matterfresh to his mind, or what freak had caused him to desire that I shouldrecount it; but I hasten, before another cancelling telegram mayarrive, to hunt out the notes which give me the exact details of thecase and to lay the narrative before my readers. 

It was, then, in the spring of the year 1897 that Holmes's ironconstitution showed some symptoms of giving way in the face of constanthard work of a most exacting kind, aggravated, perhaps, by occasionalindiscretions of his own. In March of that year Dr. Moore Agar, ofHarley Street, whose dramatic introduction to Holmes I may some dayrecount, gave positive injunctions that the famous private agent layaside all his cases and surrender himself to complete rest if he wishedto avert an absolute breakdown. The state of his health was not amatter in which he himself took the faintest interest, for his mentaldetachment was absolute, but he was induced at last, on the threat ofbeing permanently disqualified from work, to give himself a completechange of scene and air. Thus it was that in the early spring of thatyear we found ourselves together in a small cottage near Poldhu Bay, atthe further extremity of the Cornish peninsula. 

It was a singular spot, and one peculiarly well suited to the grimhumour of my patient. From the windows of our little whitewashedhouse, which stood high upon a grassy headland, we looked down upon thewhole sinister semicircle of Mounts Bay, that old death trap of sailingvessels, with its fringe of black cliffs and surge-swept reefs on whichinnumerable seamen have met their end. With a northerly breeze it liesplacid and sheltered, inviting the storm-tossed craft to tack into itfor rest and protection. 

Then come the sudden swirl round of the wind, the blistering gale fromthe south-west, the dragging anchor, the lee shore, and the last battlein the creaming breakers. The wise mariner stands far out from thatevil place. 

On the land side our surroundings were as sombre as on the sea. It wasa country of rolling moors, lonely and dun-colored, with an occasionalchurch tower to mark the site of some old-world village. In everydirection upon these moors there were traces of some vanished racewhich had passed utterly away, and left as it sole record strangemonuments of stone, irregular mounds which contained the burned ashesof the dead, and curious earthworks which hinted at prehistoric strife. The glamour and mystery of the place, with its sinister atmosphere offorgotten nations, appealed to the imagination of my friend, and hespent much of his time in long walks and solitary meditations upon themoor. The ancient Cornish language had also arrested his attention, andhe had, I remember, conceived the idea that it was akin to theChaldean, and had been largely derived from the Phoenician traders intin. He had received a consignment of books upon philology and wassettling down to develop this thesis when suddenly, to my sorrow and tohis unfeigned delight, we found ourselves, even in that land of dreams, plunged into a problem at our very doors which was more intense, moreengrossing, and infinitely more mysterious than any of those which haddriven us from London. Our simple life and peaceful, healthy routinewere violently interrupted, and we were precipitated into the midst ofa series of events which caused the utmost excitement not only inCornwall but throughout the whole west of England. Many of my readersmay retain some recollection of what was called at the time "TheCornish Horror, " though a most imperfect account of the matter reachedthe London press. Now, after thirteen years, I will give the truedetails of this inconceivable affair to the public. 

I have said that scattered towers marked the villages which dotted thispart of Cornwall. The nearest of these was the hamlet of TredannickWollas, where the cottages of a couple of hundred inhabitants clusteredround an ancient, moss-grown church. The vicar of the parish, Mr. Roundhay, was something of an archaeologist, and as such Holmes hadmade his acquaintance. He was a middle-aged man, portly and affable, with a considerable fund of local lore. At his invitation we had takentea at the vicarage and had come to know, also, Mr. Mortimer Tregennis, an independent gentleman, who increased the clergyman's scantyresources by taking rooms in his large, straggling house. The vicar, being a bachelor, was glad to come to such an arrangement, though hehad little in common with his lodger, who was a thin, dark, spectacledman, with a stoop which gave the impression of actual, physicaldeformity. I remember that during our short visit we found the vicargarrulous, but his lodger strangely reticent, a sad-faced, introspective man, sitting with averted eyes, brooding apparently uponhis own affairs. 

These were the two men who entered abruptly into our littlesitting-room on Tuesday, March the 16th, shortly after our breakfasthour, as we were smoking together, preparatory to our daily excursionupon the moors. 

"Mr. Holmes, " said the vicar in an agitated voice, "the mostextraordinary and tragic affair has occurred during the night. It isthe most unheard-of business. We can only regard it as a specialProvidence that you should chance to be here at the time, for in allEngland you are the one man we need. "

I glared at the intrusive vicar with no very friendly eyes; but Holmestook his pipe from his lips and sat up in his chair like an old houndwho hears the view-halloa. He waved his hand to the sofa, and ourpalpitating visitor with his agitated companion sat side by side uponit. Mr. Mortimer Tregennis was more self-contained than the clergyman, but the twitching of his thin hands and the brightness of his dark eyesshowed that they shared a common emotion. 

"Shall I speak or you?" he asked of the vicar. 

"Well, as you seem to have made the discovery, whatever it may be, andthe vicar to have had it second-hand, perhaps you had better do thespeaking, " said Holmes. 

I glanced at the hastily clad clergyman, with the formally dressedlodger seated beside him, and was amused at the surprise which Holmes'ssimple deduction had brought to their faces. 

"Perhaps I had best say a few words first, " said the vicar, "and thenyou can judge if you will listen to the details from Mr. Tregennis, orwhether we should not hasten at once to the scene of this mysteriousaffair. I may explain, then, that our friend here spent last eveningin the company of his two brothers, Owen and George, and of his sisterBrenda, at their house of Tredannick Wartha, which is near the oldstone cross upon the moor. He left them shortly after ten o'clock, playing cards round the dining-room table, in excellent health andspirits. This morning, being an early riser, he walked in thatdirection before breakfast and was overtaken by the carriage of Dr. Richards, who explained that he had just been sent for on a most urgentcall to Tredannick Wartha. Mr. Mortimer Tregennis naturally went withhim. When he arrived at Tredannick Wartha he found an extraordinarystate of things. His two brothers and his sister were seated round thetable exactly as he had left them, the cards still spread in front ofthem and the candles burned down to their sockets. The sister lay backstone-dead in her chair, while the two brothers sat on each side of herlaughing, shouting, and singing, the senses stricken clean out of them. All three of them, the dead woman and the two demented men, retainedupon their faces an expression of the utmost horror--a convulsion ofterror which was dreadful to look upon. There was no sign of thepresence of anyone in the house, except Mrs. Porter, the old cook andhousekeeper, who declared that she had slept deeply and heard no soundduring the night. Nothing had been stolen or disarranged, and there isabsolutely no explanation of what the horror can be which hasfrightened a woman to death and two strong men out of their senses. There is the situation, Mr. Holmes, in a nutshell, and if you can helpus to clear it up you will have done a great work. "

I had hoped that in some way I could coax my companion back into thequiet which had been the object of our journey; but one glance at hisintense face and contracted eyebrows told me how vain was now theexpectation. He sat for some little time in silence, absorbed in thestrange drama which had broken in upon our peace. 

"I will look into this matter, " he said at last. "On the face of it, it would appear to be a case of a very exceptional nature. Have youbeen there yourself, Mr. Roundhay?"

"No, Mr. Holmes. Mr. Tregennis brought back the account to thevicarage, and I at once hurried over with him to consult you. "

"How far is it to the house where this singular tragedy occurred?"

"About a mile inland. "

"Then we shall walk over together. But before we start I must ask youa few questions, Mr. Mortimer Tregennis. "

The other had been silent all this time, but I had observed that hismore controlled excitement was even greater than the obtrusive emotionof the clergyman. He sat with a pale, drawn face, his anxious gazefixed upon Holmes, and his thin hands clasped convulsively together. His pale lips quivered as he listened to the dreadful experience whichhad befallen his family, and his dark eyes seemed to reflect somethingof the horror of the scene. 

"Ask what you like, Mr. Holmes, " said he eagerly. "It is a bad thingto speak of, but I will answer you the truth. "

"Tell me about last night. "

"Well, Mr. Holmes, I supped there, as the vicar has said, and my elderbrother George proposed a game of whist afterwards. We sat down aboutnine o'clock. It was a quarter-past ten when I moved to go. I leftthem all round the table, as merry as could be. "

"Who let you out?"

"Mrs. Porter had gone to bed, so I let myself out. I shut the halldoor behind me. The window of the room in which they sat was closed, but the blind was not drawn down. There was no change in door orwindow this morning, or any reason to think that any stranger had beento the house. Yet there they sat, driven clean mad with terror, andBrenda lying dead of fright, with her head hanging over the arm of thechair. I'll never get the sight of that room out of my mind so long asI live. "

"The facts, as you state them, are certainly most remarkable, " saidHolmes. "I take it that you have no theory yourself which can in anyway account for them?"

"It's devilish, Mr. Holmes, devilish!" cried Mortimer Tregennis. "It isnot of this world. Something has come into that room which has dashedthe light of reason from their minds. What human contrivance could dothat?"

"I fear, " said Holmes, "that if the matter is beyond humanity it iscertainly beyond me. Yet we must exhaust all natural explanationsbefore we fall back upon such a theory as this. As to yourself, Mr. Tregennis, I take it you were divided in some way from your family, since they lived together and you had rooms apart?"

"That is so, Mr. Holmes, though the matter is past and done with. Wewere a family of tin-miners at Redruth, but we sold our venture to acompany, and so retired with enough to keep us. I won't deny thatthere was some feeling about the division of the money and it stoodbetween us for a time, but it was all forgiven and forgotten, and wewere the best of friends together. "

"Looking back at the evening which you spent together, does anythingstand out in your memory as throwing any possible light upon thetragedy? Think carefully, Mr. Tregennis, for any clue which can helpme. "

"There is nothing at all, sir. "

"Your people were in their usual spirits?"

"Never better. "

"Were they nervous people? Did they ever show any apprehension ofcoming danger?"

"Nothing of the kind. "

"You have nothing to add then, which could assist me?"

Mortimer Tregennis considered earnestly for a moment. 

"There is one thing occurs to me, " said he at last. "As we sat at thetable my back was to the window, and my brother George, he being mypartner at cards, was facing it. I saw him once look hard over myshoulder, so I turned round and looked also. The blind was up and thewindow shut, but I could just make out the bushes on the lawn, and itseemed to me for a moment that I saw something moving among them. Icouldn't even say if it was man or animal, but I just thought there wassomething there. When I asked him what he was looking at, he told methat he had the same feeling. That is all that I can say. "

"Did you not investigate?"

"No; the matter passed as unimportant. "

"You left them, then, without any premonition of evil?"

"None at all. "

"I am not clear how you came to hear the news so early this morning. "

"I am an early riser and generally take a walk before breakfast. Thismorning I had hardly started when the doctor in his carriage overtookme. He told me that old Mrs. Porter had sent a boy down with an urgentmessage. I sprang in beside him and we drove on. When we got there welooked into that dreadful room. The candles and the fire must haveburned out hours before, and they had been sitting there in the darkuntil dawn had broken. The doctor said Brenda must have been dead atleast six hours. There were no signs of violence. She just lay acrossthe arm of the chair with that look on her face. George and Owen weresinging snatches of songs and gibbering like two great apes. Oh, itwas awful to see! I couldn't stand it, and the doctor was as white asa sheet. Indeed, he fell into a chair in a sort of faint, and wenearly had him on our hands as well. "

"Remarkable--most remarkable!" said Holmes, rising and taking his hat. "I think, perhaps, we had better go down to Tredannick Wartha withoutfurther delay. I confess that I have seldom known a case which atfirst sight presented a more singular problem. "

Our proceedings of that first morning did little to advance theinvestigation. It was marked, however, at the outset by an incidentwhich left the most sinister impression upon my mind. The approach tothe spot at which the tragedy occurred is down a narrow, winding, country lane. While we made our way along it we heard the rattle of acarriage coming towards us and stood aside to let it pass. As it droveby us I caught a glimpse through the closed window of a horriblycontorted, grinning face glaring out at us. Those staring eyes andgnashing teeth flashed past us like a dreadful vision. 

"My brothers!" cried Mortimer Tregennis, white to his lips. "They aretaking them to Helston. "

We looked with horror after the black carriage, lumbering upon its way. Then we turned our steps towards this ill-omened house in which theyhad met their strange fate. 

It was a large and bright dwelling, rather a villa than a cottage, witha considerable garden which was already, in that Cornish air, wellfilled with spring flowers. Towards this garden the window of thesitting-room fronted, and from it, according to Mortimer Tregennis, must have come that thing of evil which had by sheer horror in a singleinstant blasted their minds. Holmes walked slowly and thoughtfullyamong the flower-plots and along the path before we entered the porch. So absorbed was he in his thoughts, I remember, that he stumbled overthe watering-pot, upset its contents, and deluged both our feet and thegarden path. Inside the house we were met by the elderly Cornishhousekeeper, Mrs. Porter, who, with the aid of a young girl, lookedafter the wants of the family. She readily answered all Holmes'squestions. She had heard nothing in the night. Her employers had allbeen in excellent spirits lately, and she had never known them morecheerful and prosperous. She had fainted with horror upon entering theroom in the morning and seeing that dreadful company round the table. She had, when she recovered, thrown open the window to let the morningair in, and had run down to the lane, whence she sent a farm-lad forthe doctor. The lady was on her bed upstairs if we cared to see her. It took four strong men to get the brothers into the asylum carriage. She would not herself stay in the house another day and was startingthat very afternoon to rejoin her family at St. Ives. 

We ascended the stairs and viewed the body. Miss Brenda Tregennis hadbeen a very beautiful girl, though now verging upon middle age. Herdark, clear-cut face was handsome, even in death, but there stilllingered upon it something of that convulsion of horror which had beenher last human emotion. From her bedroom we descended to thesitting-room, where this strange tragedy had actually occurred. Thecharred ashes of the overnight fire lay in the grate. On the tablewere the four guttered and burned-out candles, with the cards scatteredover its surface. The chairs had been moved back against the walls, but all else was as it had been the night before. Holmes paced withlight, swift steps about the room; he sat in the various chairs, drawing them up and reconstructing their positions. He tested how muchof the garden was visible; he examined the floor, the ceiling, and thefireplace; but never once did I see that sudden brightening of his eyesand tightening of his lips which would have told me that he saw somegleam of light in this utter darkness. 

"Why a fire?" he asked once. "Had they always a fire in this smallroom on a spring evening?"

Mortimer Tregennis explained that the night was cold and damp. For thatreason, after his arrival, the fire was lit. "What are you going to donow, Mr. Holmes?" he asked. 

My friend smiled and laid his hand upon my arm. "I think, Watson, thatI shall resume that course of tobacco-poisoning which you have so oftenand so justly condemned, " said he. "With your permission, gentlemen, we will now return to our cottage, for I am not aware that any newfactor is likely to come to our notice here. I will turn the factsover in my mind, Mr. Tregennis, and should anything occur to me I willcertainly communicate with you and the vicar. In the meantime I wishyou both good-morning. "

It was not until long after we were back in Poldhu Cottage that Holmesbroke his complete and absorbed silence. He sat coiled in hisarmchair, his haggard and ascetic face hardly visible amid the blueswirl of his tobacco smoke, his black brows drawn down, his foreheadcontracted, his eyes vacant and far away. Finally he laid down hispipe and sprang to his feet. 

"It won't do, Watson!" said he with a laugh. "Let us walk along thecliffs together and search for flint arrows. We are more likely tofind them than clues to this problem. To let the brain work withoutsufficient material is like racing an engine. It racks itself topieces. The sea air, sunshine, and patience, Watson--all else willcome. 

"Now, let us calmly define our position, Watson, " he continued as weskirted the cliffs together. "Let us get a firm grip of the verylittle which we DO know, so that when fresh facts arise we may be readyto fit them into their places. I take it, in the first place, thatneither of us is prepared to admit diabolical intrusions into theaffairs of men. Let us begin by ruling that entirely out of our minds. Very good. There remain three persons who have been grievouslystricken by some conscious or unconscious human agency. That is firmground. Now, when did this occur? Evidently, assuming his narrativeto be true, it was immediately after Mr. Mortimer Tregennis had leftthe room. That is a very important point. The presumption is that itwas within a few minutes afterwards. The cards still lay upon thetable. It was already past their usual hour for bed. Yet they had notchanged their position or pushed back their chairs. I repeat, then, that the occurrence was immediately after his departure, and not laterthan eleven o'clock last night. 

"Our next obvious step is to check, so far as we can, the movements ofMortimer Tregennis after he left the room. In this there is nodifficulty, and they seem to be above suspicion. Knowing my methods asyou do, you were, of course, conscious of the somewhat clumsy water-potexpedient by which I obtained a clearer impress of his foot than mightotherwise have been possible. The wet, sandy path took it admirably. Last night was also wet, you will remember, and it was notdifficult--having obtained a sample print--to pick out his track amongothers and to follow his movements. He appears to have walked awayswiftly in the direction of the vicarage. 

"If, then, Mortimer Tregennis disappeared from the scene, and yet someoutside person affected the card-players, how can we reconstruct thatperson, and how was such an impression of horror conveyed? Mrs. Portermay be eliminated. She is evidently harmless. Is there any evidencethat someone crept up to the garden window and in some manner producedso terrific an effect that he drove those who saw it out of theirsenses? The only suggestion in this direction comes from MortimerTregennis himself, who says that his brother spoke about some movementin the garden. That is certainly remarkable, as the night was rainy, cloudy, and dark. Anyone who had the design to alarm these peoplewould be compelled to place his very face against the glass before hecould be seen. There is a three-foot flower-border outside thiswindow, but no indication of a footmark. It is difficult to imagine, then, how an outsider could have made so terrible an impression uponthe company, nor have we found any possible motive for so strange andelaborate an attempt. You perceive our difficulties, Watson?"

"They are only too clear, " I answered with conviction. 

"And yet, with a little more material, we may prove that they are notinsurmountable, " said Holmes. "I fancy that among your extensivearchives, Watson, you may find some which were nearly as obscure. Meanwhile, we shall put the case aside until more accurate data areavailable, and devote the rest of our morning to the pursuit ofneolithic man. "

I may have commented upon my friend's power of mental detachment, butnever have I wondered at it more than upon that spring morning inCornwall when for two hours he discoursed upon celts, arrowheads, andshards, as lightly as if no sinister mystery were waiting for hissolution. It was not until we had returned in the afternoon to ourcottage that we found a visitor awaiting us, who soon brought our mindsback to the matter in hand. Neither of us needed to be told who thatvisitor was. The huge body, the craggy and deeply seamed face with thefierce eyes and hawk-like nose, the grizzled hair which nearly brushedour cottage ceiling, the beard--golden at the fringes and white nearthe lips, save for the nicotine stain from his perpetual cigar--allthese were as well known in London as in Africa, and could only beassociated with the tremendous personality of Dr. Leon Sterndale, thegreat lion-hunter and explorer. 

We had heard of his presence in the district and had once or twicecaught sight of his tall figure upon the moorland paths. He made noadvances 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 himto spend the greater part of the intervals between his journeys in asmall bungalow buried in the lonely wood of Beauchamp Arriance. Here, amid his books and his maps, he lived an absolutely lonely life, attending to his own simple wants and paying little apparent heed tothe affairs of his neighbours. It was a surprise to me, therefore, tohear him asking Holmes in an eager voice whether he had made anyadvance in his reconstruction of this mysterious episode. "The countypolice are utterly at fault, " said he, "but perhaps your widerexperience has suggested some conceivable explanation. My only claimto being taken into your confidence is that during my many residenceshere I have come to know this family of Tregennis very well--indeed, upon my Cornish mother's side I could call them cousins--and theirstrange fate has naturally been a great shock to me. I may tell youthat I had got as far as Plymouth upon my way to Africa, but the newsreached me this morning, and I came straight back again to help in theinquiry. "

Holmes raised his eyebrows. 

"Did you lose your boat through it?"

"I will take the next. "

"Dear me! that is friendship indeed. "

"I tell you they were relatives. "

"Quite so--cousins of your mother. Was your baggage aboard the ship?"

"Some of it, but the main part at the hotel. "

"I see. But surely this event could not have found its way into thePlymouth morning papers. "

"No, sir; I had a telegram. "

"Might I ask from whom?"

A shadow passed over the gaunt face of the explorer. 

"You are very inquisitive, Mr. Holmes. "

"It is my business. "

With an effort Dr. Sterndale recovered his ruffled composure. 

"I have no objection to telling you, " he said. "It was Mr. Roundhay, the vicar, who sent me the telegram which recalled me. "

"Thank you, " said Holmes. "I may say in answer to your originalquestion that I have not cleared my mind entirely on the subject ofthis case, but that I have every hope of reaching some conclusion. Itwould be premature to say more. "

"Perhaps you would not mind telling me if your suspicions point in anyparticular direction?"

"No, I can hardly answer that. "

"Then I have wasted my time and need not prolong my visit. " The famousdoctor strode out of our cottage in considerable ill-humour, and withinfive minutes Holmes had followed him. I saw him no more until theevening, when he returned with a slow step and haggard face whichassured me that he had made no great progress with his investigation. He glanced at a telegram which awaited him and threw it into the grate. 

"From the Plymouth hotel, Watson, " he said. "I learned the name of itfrom the vicar, and I wired to make certain that Dr. Leon Sterndale'saccount was true. It appears that he did indeed spend last nightthere, and that he has actually allowed some of his baggage to go on toAfrica, while he returned to be present at this investigation. What doyou make of that, Watson?"

"He is deeply interested. "

"Deeply interested--yes. There is a thread here which we had not yetgrasped and which might lead us through the tangle. Cheer up, Watson, for I am very sure that our material has not yet all come to hand. When it does we may soon leave our difficulties behind us. "

Little did I think how soon the words of Holmes would be realized, orhow strange and sinister would be that new development which opened upan entirely fresh line of investigation. I was shaving at my window inthe morning when I heard the rattle of hoofs and, looking up, saw adog-cart coming at a gallop down the road. It pulled up at our door, and our friend, the vicar, sprang from it and rushed up our gardenpath. Holmes was already dressed, and we hastened down to meet him. 

Our visitor was so excited that he could hardly articulate, but at lastin gasps and bursts his tragic story came out of him. 

"We are devil-ridden, Mr. Holmes! My poor parish is devil-ridden!" hecried. "Satan himself is loose in it! We are given over into hishands!" He danced about in his agitation, a ludicrous object if itwere not for his ashy face and startled eyes. Finally he shot out histerrible news. 

"Mr. Mortimer Tregennis died during the night, and with exactly thesame symptoms as the rest of his family. "

Holmes sprang to his feet, all energy in an instant. 

"Can you fit us both into your dog-cart?"

"Yes, I can. "

"Then, Watson, we will postpone our breakfast. Mr. Roundhay, we areentirely at your disposal. Hurry--hurry, before things getdisarranged. "

The lodger occupied two rooms at the vicarage, which were in an angleby themselves, the one above the other. Below was a largesitting-room; above, his bedroom. They looked out upon a croquet lawnwhich came up to the windows. We had arrived before the doctor or thepolice, so that everything was absolutely undisturbed. Let me describeexactly the scene as we saw it upon that misty March morning. It hasleft an impression which can never be effaced from my mind. 

The atmosphere of the room was of a horrible and depressing stuffiness. The servant had first entered had thrown up the window, or it wouldhave been even more intolerable. This might partly be due to the factthat a lamp stood flaring and smoking on the centre table. Beside itsat the dead man, leaning back in his chair, his thin beard projecting, his spectacles pushed up on to his forehead, and his lean dark faceturned towards the window and twisted into the same distortion ofterror which had marked the features of his dead sister. His limbswere convulsed and his fingers contorted as though he had died in avery paroxysm of fear. He was fully clothed, though there were signsthat his dressing had been done in a hurry. We had already learnedthat his bed had been slept in, and that the tragic end had come to himin the early morning. 

One realized the red-hot energy which underlay Holmes's phlegmaticexterior when one saw the sudden change which came over him from themoment that he entered the fatal apartment. In an instant he was tenseand alert, his eyes shining, his face set, his limbs quivering witheager activity. He was out on the lawn, in through the window, roundthe room, and up into the bedroom, for all the world like a dashingfoxhound drawing a cover. In the bedroom he made a rapid cast aroundand ended by throwing open the window, which appeared to give him somefresh cause for excitement, for he leaned out of it with loudejaculations of interest and delight. Then he rushed down the stair, out through the open window, threw himself upon his face on the lawn, sprang up and into the room once more, all with the energy of thehunter who is at the very heels of his quarry. The lamp, which was anordinary standard, he examined with minute care, making certainmeasurements upon its bowl. He carefully scrutinized with his lens thetalc shield which covered the top of the chimney and scraped off someashes which adhered to its upper surface, putting some of them into anenvelope, which he placed in his pocketbook. Finally, just as thedoctor and the official police put in an appearance, he beckoned to thevicar and we all three went out upon the lawn. 

"I am glad to say that my investigation has not been entirely barren, "he remarked. "I cannot remain to discuss the matter with the police, but I should be exceedingly obliged, Mr. Roundhay, if you would givethe inspector my compliments and direct his attention to the bedroomwindow and to the sitting-room lamp. Each is suggestive, and togetherthey are almost conclusive. If the police would desire furtherinformation I shall be happy to see any of them at the cottage. Andnow, Watson, I think that, perhaps, we shall be better employedelsewhere. "

It may be that the police resented the intrusion of an amateur, or thatthey imagined themselves to be upon some hopeful line of investigation;but it is certain that we heard nothing from them for the next twodays. During this time Holmes spent some of his time smoking anddreaming in the cottage; but a greater portion in country walks whichhe undertook alone, returning after many hours without remark as towhere he had been. One experiment served to show me the line of hisinvestigation. He had bought a lamp which was the duplicate of the onewhich had burned in the room of Mortimer Tregennis on the morning ofthe tragedy. This he filled with the same oil as that used at thevicarage, and he carefully timed the period which it would take to beexhausted. Another experiment which he made was of a more unpleasantnature, and one which I am not likely ever to forget. 

"You will remember, Watson, " he remarked one afternoon, "that there isa single common point of resemblance in the varying reports which havereached us. This concerns the effect of the atmosphere of the room ineach case upon those who had first entered it. You will recollect thatMortimer Tregennis, in describing the episode of his last visit to hisbrother's house, remarked that the doctor on entering the room fellinto a chair? You had forgotten? Well I can answer for it that it wasso. Now, you will remember also that Mrs. Porter, the housekeeper, toldus that she herself fainted upon entering the room and had afterwardsopened the window. In the second case--that of Mortimer Tregennishimself--you cannot have forgotten the horrible stuffiness of the roomwhen we arrived, though the servant had thrown open the window. Thatservant, I found upon inquiry, was so ill that she had gone to her bed. You will admit, Watson, that these facts are very suggestive. In eachcase there is evidence of a poisonous atmosphere. In each case, also, there is combustion going on in the room--in the one case a fire, inthe other a lamp. The fire was needed, but the lamp was lit--as acomparison of the oil consumed will show--long after it was broaddaylight. Why? Surely because there is some connection between threethings--the burning, the stuffy atmosphere, and, finally, the madnessor death of those unfortunate people. That is clear, is it not?"

"It would appear so. "

"At least we may accept it as a working hypothesis. We will suppose, then, that something was burned in each case which produced anatmosphere causing strange toxic effects. Very good. In the firstinstance--that of the Tregennis family--this substance was placed inthe fire. Now the window was shut, but the fire would naturally carryfumes to some extent up the chimney. Hence one would expect theeffects of the poison to be less than in the second case, where therewas less escape for the vapour. The result seems to indicate that itwas so, since in the first case only the woman, who had presumably themore sensitive organism, was killed, the others exhibiting thattemporary or permanent lunacy which is evidently the first effect ofthe drug. In the second case the result was complete. The facts, therefore, seem to bear out the theory of a poison which worked bycombustion. 

"With this train of reasoning in my head I naturally looked about inMortimer Tregennis's room to find some remains of this substance. Theobvious place to look was the talc shelf or smoke-guard of the lamp. There, sure enough, I perceived a number of flaky ashes, and round theedges a fringe of brownish powder, which had not yet been consumed. Half of this I took, as you saw, and I placed it in an envelope. "

"Why half, Holmes?"

"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the officialpolice force. I leave them all the evidence which I found. The poisonstill remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to openour window to avoid the premature decease of two deserving members ofsociety, and you will seat yourself near that open window in anarmchair unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing todo with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will you? I thought Iknew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we maybe the same distance from the poison and face to face. The door wewill leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the other and tobring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Isthat all clear? Well, then, I take our powder--or what remains ofit--from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So! Now, Watson, let us sit down and await developments. "

They were not long in coming. I had hardly settled in my chair beforeI was conscious of a thick, musky odour, subtle and nauseous. At thevery first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond allcontrol. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind toldme that in this cloud, unseen as yet, but about to spring out upon myappalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that wasmonstrous and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapesswirled and swam amid the dark cloud-bank, each a menace and a warningof something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon thethreshold, whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horrortook possession of me. I felt that my hair was rising, that my eyeswere protruding, that my mouth was opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some hoarse croak which wasmy own voice, but distant and detached from myself At the same moment, in some effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and hada glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and drawn with horror--thevery look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was thatvision which gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashedfrom my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and together we lurchedthrough the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves downupon the grass plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of theglorious sunshine which was bursting its way through the hellish cloudof terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like themists from a landscape until peace and reason had returned, and we weresitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and looking withapprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrificexperience which we had undergone. 

"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "Iowe you both my thanks and an apology. It was an unjustifiableexperiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I amreally very sorry. "

"You know, " I answered with some emotion, for I have never seen so muchof Holmes's heart before, "that it is my greatest joy and privilege tohelp you. "

He relapsed at once into the half-humorous, half-cynical vein which washis habitual attitude to those about him. "It would be superfluous todrive us mad, my dear Watson, " said he. "A candid observer wouldcertainly declare that we were so already before we embarked upon sowild an experiment. I confess that I never imagined that the effectcould be so sudden and so severe. " He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threwit among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a little time toclear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubtas to how these tragedies were produced?"

"None whatever. "

"But the cause remains as obscure as before. Come into the arbour hereand let us discuss it together. That villainous stuff seems still tolinger round my throat. I think we must admit that all the evidencepoints to this man, Mortimer Tregennis, having been the criminal in thefirst tragedy, though he was the victim in the second one. We mustremember, in the first place, that there is some story of a familyquarrel, followed by a reconciliation. How bitter that quarrel mayhave been, or how hollow the reconciliation we cannot tell. When Ithink of Mortimer Tregennis, with the foxy face and the small shrewd, beady eyes behind the spectacles, he is not a man whom I should judgeto be of a particularly forgiving disposition. Well, in the next place, you will remember that this idea of someone moving in the garden, whichtook our attention for a moment from the real cause of the tragedy, emanated from him. He had a motive in misleading us. Finally, if hedid not throw the substance into the fire at the moment of leaving theroom, who did do so? The affair happened immediately after hisdeparture. Had anyone else come in, the family would certainly haverisen from the table. Besides, in peaceful Cornwall, visitors did notarrive after ten o'clock at night. We may take it, then, that all theevidence points to Mortimer Tregennis as the culprit. "

"Then his own death was suicide!"

"Well, Watson, it is on the face of it a not impossible supposition. The man who had the guilt upon his soul of having brought such a fateupon his own family might well be driven by remorse to inflict it uponhimself. There are, however, some cogent reasons against it. Fortunately, there is one man in England who knows all about it, and Ihave made arrangements by which we shall hear the facts this afternoonfrom his own lips. Ah! he is a little before his time. Perhaps youwould kindly step this way, Dr. Leon Sterndale. We have been conducinga chemical experiment indoors which has left our little room hardly fitfor the reception of so distinguished a visitor. "

I had heard the click of the garden gate, and now the majestic figureof the great African explorer appeared upon the path. He turned insome surprise towards the rustic arbour in which we sat. 

"You sent for me, Mr. Holmes. I had your note about an hour ago, and Ihave come, though I really do not know why I should obey your summons. "

"Perhaps we can clear the point up before we separate, " said Holmes. "Meanwhile, I am much obliged to you for your courteous acquiescence. You will excuse this informal reception in the open air, but my friendWatson and I have nearly furnished an additional chapter to what thepapers call the Cornish Horror, and we prefer a clear atmosphere forthe present. Perhaps, since the matters which we have to discuss willaffect you personally in a very intimate fashion, it is as well that weshould talk where there can be no eavesdropping. "

The explorer took his cigar from his lips and gazed sternly at mycompanion. 

"I am at a loss to know, sir, " he said, "what you can have to speakabout which affects me personally in a very intimate fashion. "

"The killing of Mortimer Tregennis, " said Holmes. 

For a moment I wished that I were armed. Sterndale's fierce faceturned to a dusky red, his eyes glared, and the knotted, passionateveins started out in his forehead, while he sprang forward withclenched hands towards my companion. Then he stopped, and with aviolent effort he resumed a cold, rigid calmness, which was, perhaps, more suggestive of danger than his hot-headed outburst. 

"I have lived so long among savages and beyond the law, " said he, "thatI have got into the way of being a law to myself. You would do well, 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. Sterndale. Surely theclearest proof of it is that, knowing what I know, I have sent for youand not for the police. "

Sterndale sat down with a gasp, overawed for, perhaps, the first timein his adventurous life. There was a calm assurance of power inHolmes's manner which could not be withstood. Our visitor stammeredfor a moment, his great hands opening and shutting in his agitation. 

"What do you mean?" he asked at last. "If this is bluff upon yourpart, Mr. Holmes, you have chosen a bad man for your experiment. Let ushave no more beating about the bush. What DO you mean?"

"I will tell you, " said Holmes, "and the reason why I tell you is thatI hope frankness may beget frankness. What my next step may be willdepend entirely upon the nature of your own defence. "

"My defence?"

"Yes, sir. "

"My defence against what?"

"Against the charge of killing Mortimer Tregennis. "

Sterndale mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. "Upon my word, you are getting on, " said he. "Do all your successes depend upon thisprodigious power of bluff?"

"The bluff, " said Holmes sternly, "is upon your side, Dr. LeonSterndale, and not upon mine. As a proof I will tell you some of thefacts upon which my conclusions are based. Of your return fromPlymouth, allowing much of your property to go on to Africa, I will saynothing save that it first informed me that you were one of the factorswhich had to be taken into account in reconstructing this drama--"

"I came back--"

"I have heard your reasons and regard them as unconvincing andinadequate. We will pass that. You came down here to ask me whom Isuspected. I refused to answer you. You then went to the vicarage, waited outside it for some time, and finally returned to your cottage. "

"How do you know that?"

"I followed you. "

"I saw no one. "

"That is what you may expect to see when I follow you. You spent arestless night at your cottage, and you formed certain plans, which inthe early morning you proceeded to put into execution. Leaving yourdoor just as day was breaking, you filled your pocket with some reddishgravel that was lying heaped beside your gate. "

Sterndale gave a violent start and looked at Holmes in amazement. 

"You then walked swiftly for the mile which separated you from thevicarage. You were wearing, I may remark, the same pair of ribbedtennis shoes which are at the present moment upon your feet. At thevicarage you passed through the orchard and the side hedge, coming outunder the window of the lodger Tregennis. It was now daylight, but thehousehold was not yet stirring. You drew some of the gravel from yourpocket, and you threw it up at the window above you. "

Sterndale sprang to his feet. 

"I believe that you are the devil himself!" he cried. 

Holmes smiled at the compliment. "It took two, or possibly three, handfuls before the lodger came to the window. You beckoned him tocome down. He dressed hurriedly and descended to his sitting-room. You entered by the window. There was an interview--a short one--duringwhich you walked up and down the room. Then you passed out and closedthe window, standing on the lawn outside smoking a cigar and watchingwhat occurred. Finally, after the death of Tregennis, you withdrew asyou had come. Now, Dr. Sterndale, how do you justify such conduct, andwhat were the motives for your actions? If you prevaricate or triflewith me, I give you my assurance that the matter will pass out of myhands forever. "

Our visitor's face had turned ashen gray as he listened to the words ofhis accuser. Now he sat for some time in thought with his face sunk inhis hands. Then with a sudden impulsive gesture he plucked aphotograph from his breast-pocket and threw it on the rustic tablebefore us. 

"That is why I have done it, " said he. 

It showed the bust and face of a very beautiful woman. Holmes stoopedover it. 

"Brenda Tregennis, " said he. 

"Yes, Brenda Tregennis, " repeated our visitor. "For years I have lovedher. For years she has loved me. There is the secret of that Cornishseclusion which people have marvelled at. It has brought me close tothe one thing on earth that was dear to me. I could not marry her, forI have a wife who has left me for years and yet whom, by the deplorablelaws of England, I could not divorce. For years Brenda waited. Foryears I waited. And this is what we have waited for. " A terrible sobshook his great frame, and he clutched his throat under his brindledbeard. Then with an effort he mastered himself and spoke on:

"The vicar knew. He was in our confidence. He would tell you that shewas an angel upon earth. That was why he telegraphed to me and Ireturned. What was my baggage or Africa to me when I learned that sucha fate had come upon my darling? There you have the missing clue to myaction, Mr. Holmes. "

"Proceed, " said my friend. 

Dr. Sterndale drew from his pocket a paper packet and laid it upon thetable. On the outside was written "Radix pedis diaboli" with a redpoison label beneath it. He pushed it towards me. "I understand thatyou are a doctor, sir. Have you ever heard of this preparation?"

"Devil's-foot root! No, I have never heard of it. "

"It is no reflection upon your professional knowledge, " said he, "for Ibelieve that, save for one sample in a laboratory at Buda, there is noother specimen in Europe. It has not yet found its way either into thepharmacopoeia or into the literature of toxicology. The root is shapedlike a foot, half human, half goatlike; hence the fanciful name givenby a botanical missionary. It is used as an ordeal poison by themedicine-men in certain districts of West Africa and is kept as asecret among them. This particular specimen I obtained under veryextraordinary circumstances in the Ubangi country. " He opened thepaper as he spoke and disclosed a heap of reddish-brown, snuff-likepowder. 

"Well, sir?" asked Holmes sternly. 

"I am about to tell you, Mr. Holmes, all that actually occurred, foryou already know so much that it is clearly to my interest that youshould know all. I have already explained the relationship in which Istood to the Tregennis family. For the sake of the sister I wasfriendly with the brothers. There was a family quarrel about moneywhich estranged this man Mortimer, but it was supposed to be made up, and I afterwards met him as I did the others. He was a sly, subtle, scheming man, and several things arose which gave me a suspicion ofhim, but I had no cause for any positive quarrel. 

"One day, only a couple of weeks ago, he came down to my cottage and Ishowed him some of my African curiosities. Among other things Iexhibited this powder, and I told him of its strange properties, how itstimulates those brain centres which control the emotion of fear, andhow either madness or death is the fate of the unhappy native who issubjected to the ordeal by the priest of his tribe. I told him alsohow powerless European science would be to detect it. How he took it Icannot say, for I never left the room, but there is no doubt that itwas then, while I was opening cabinets and stooping to boxes, that hemanaged to abstract some of the devil's-foot root. I well remember howhe plied me with questions as to the amount and the time that wasneeded for its effect, but I little dreamed that he could have apersonal reason for asking. 

"I thought no more of the matter until the vicar's telegram reached meat Plymouth. This villain had thought that I would be at sea beforethe news could reach me, and that I should be lost for years in Africa. But I returned at once. Of course, I could not listen to the detailswithout feeling assured that my poison had been used. I came round tosee you on the chance that some other explanation had suggested itselfto you. But there could be none. I was convinced that MortimerTregennis was the murderer; that for the sake of money, and with theidea, perhaps, that if the other members of his family were all insanehe would be the sole guardian of their joint property, he had used thedevil's-foot powder upon them, driven two of them out of their senses, and killed his sister Brenda, the one human being whom I have everloved or who has ever loved me. There was his crime; what was to behis punishment?

"Should I appeal to the law? Where were my proofs? I knew that thefacts were true, but could I help to make a jury of countrymen believeso fantastic a story? I might or I might not. But I could not affordto fail. My soul cried out for revenge. I have said to you oncebefore, Mr. Holmes, that I have spent much of my life outside the law, and that I have come at last to be a law to myself. So it was evennow. I determined that the fate which he had given to others should beshared by himself. Either that or I would do justice upon him with myown hand. In all England there can be no man who sets less value uponhis own life than I do at the present moment. 

"Now I have told you all. You have yourself supplied the rest. I did, as you say, after a restless night, set off early from my cottage. Iforesaw the difficulty of arousing him, so I gathered some gravel fromthe pile which you have mentioned, and I used it to throw up to hiswindow. He came down and admitted me through the window of thesitting-room. I laid his offence before him. I told him that I hadcome both as judge and executioner. The wretch sank into a chair, paralyzed at the sight of my revolver. I lit the lamp, put the powderabove it, and stood outside the window, ready to carry out my threat toshoot him should he try to leave the room. In five minutes he died. My God! how he died! But my heart was flint, for he endured nothingwhich my innocent darling had not felt before him. There is my story, Mr. Holmes. Perhaps, if you loved a woman, you would have done as muchyourself. At any rate, I am in your hands. You can take what stepsyou like. As I have already said, there is no man living who can feardeath less than I do. "

Holmes sat for some little time in silence. 

"What were your plans?" he asked at last. 

"I had intended to bury myself in central Africa. My work there is buthalf finished. "

"Go and do the other half, " said Holmes. "I, at least, am not preparedto prevent you. "

Dr. Sterndale raised his giant figure, bowed gravely, and walked fromthe arbour. Holmes lit his pipe and handed me his pouch. 

"Some fumes which are not poisonous would be a welcome change, " saidhe. "I think you must agree, Watson, that it is not a case in which weare called upon to interfere. Our investigation has been independent, and our action shall be so also. You would not denounce the man?"

"Certainly not, " I answered. 

"I have never loved, Watson, but if I did and if the woman I loved hadmet such an end, I might act even as our lawless lion-hunter has done. Who knows? Well, Watson, I will not offend your intelligence byexplaining what is obvious. The gravel upon the window-sill was, ofcourse, the starting-point of my research. It was unlike anything inthe vicarage garden. Only when my attention had been drawn to Dr. Sterndale and his cottage did I find its counterpart. The lamp shiningin broad daylight and the remains of powder upon the shield weresuccessive links in a fairly obvious chain. And now, my dear Watson, Ithink we may dismiss the matter from our mind and go back with a clearconscience to the study of those Chaldean roots which are surely to betraced in the Cornish branch of the great Celtic speech. "