THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES, A Collection of Holmes Adventures

by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

CONTENTS:

 The Adventure Of The Empty House

 The Adventure Of The Norwood Builder

 The Adventure Of The Dancing Men

 The Adventure Of The Solitary Cyclist

 The Adventure Of The Priory School

 The Adventure Of Black Peter

 The Adventure Of Charles Augustus Milverton

 The Adventure Of The Six Napoleons

 The Adventure Of The Three Students

 The Adventure Of The Golden Pince-Nez

 The Adventure Of The Missing Three-Quarter

 The Adventure Of The Abbey Grange

 The Adventure Of The Second Stain

THE ADVENTURE OF THE EMPTY HOUSE

It was in the spring of the year 1894 that all London was interested, and the fashionable world dismayed, by the murder of the HonourableRonald Adair under most unusual and inexplicable circumstances. Thepublic has already learned those particulars of the crime which came outin the police investigation, but a good deal was suppressed upon thatoccasion, since the case for the prosecution was so overwhelminglystrong that it was not necessary to bring forward all the facts. Onlynow, at the end of nearly ten years, am I allowed to supply thosemissing links which make up the whole of that remarkable chain. Thecrime was of interest in itself, but that interest was as nothing tome compared to the inconceivable sequel, which afforded me the greatestshock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life. Even now, after this long interval, I find myself thrilling as I think of it, andfeeling once more that sudden flood of joy, amazement, and incredulitywhich utterly submerged my mind. Let me say to that public, which hasshown some interest in those glimpses which I have occasionally giventhem of the thoughts and actions of a very remarkable man, that theyare not to blame me if I have not shared my knowledge with them, for Ishould have considered it my first duty to do so, had I not been barredby a positive prohibition from his own lips, which was only withdrawnupon the third of last month. 

It can be imagined that my close intimacy with Sherlock Holmes hadinterested me deeply in crime, and that after his disappearance I neverfailed to read with care the various problems which came before thepublic. And I even attempted, more than once, for my own privatesatisfaction, to employ his methods in their solution, though withindifferent success. There was none, however, which appealed to me likethis tragedy of Ronald Adair. As I read the evidence at the inquest, which led up to a verdict of willful murder against some person orpersons unknown, I realized more clearly than I had ever done the losswhich the community had sustained by the death of Sherlock Holmes. Therewere points about this strange business which would, I was sure, havespecially appealed to him, and the efforts of the police would have beensupplemented, or more probably anticipated, by the trained observationand the alert mind of the first criminal agent in Europe. All day, asI drove upon my round, I turned over the case in my mind and found noexplanation which appeared to me to be adequate. At the risk of tellinga twice-told tale, I will recapitulate the facts as they were known tothe public at the conclusion of the inquest. 

The Honourable Ronald Adair was the second son of the Earl of Maynooth, at that time governor of one of the Australian colonies. Adair's motherhad returned from Australia to undergo the operation for cataract, andshe, her son Ronald, and her daughter Hilda were living together at427 Park Lane. The youth moved in the best society--had, so far as wasknown, no enemies and no particular vices. He had been engaged to MissEdith Woodley, of Carstairs, but the engagement had been broken off bymutual consent some months before, and there was no sign that it hadleft any very profound feeling behind it. For the rest {sic} the man'slife moved in a narrow and conventional circle, for his habits werequiet and his nature unemotional. Yet it was upon this easy-going youngaristocrat that death came, in most strange and unexpected form, betweenthe hours of ten and eleven-twenty on the night of March 30, 1894. 

Ronald Adair was fond of cards--playing continually, but never for suchstakes as would hurt him. He was a member of the Baldwin, the Cavendish, and the Bagatelle card clubs. It was shown that, after dinner on the dayof his death, he had played a rubber of whist at the latter club. He hadalso played there in the afternoon. The evidence of those who had playedwith him--Mr. Murray, Sir John Hardy, and Colonel Moran--showed thatthe game was whist, and that there was a fairly equal fall of the cards. Adair might have lost five pounds, but not more. His fortune was aconsiderable one, and such a loss could not in any way affect him. Hehad played nearly every day at one club or other, but he was a cautiousplayer, and usually rose a winner. It came out in evidence that, inpartnership with Colonel Moran, he had actually won as much as fourhundred and twenty pounds in a sitting, some weeks before, from GodfreyMilner and Lord Balmoral. So much for his recent history as it came outat the inquest. 

On the evening of the crime, he returned from the club exactly at ten. His mother and sister were out spending the evening with a relation. Theservant deposed that she heard him enter the front room on the secondfloor, generally used as his sitting-room. She had lit a fire there, andas it smoked she had opened the window. No sound was heard from the roomuntil eleven-twenty, the hour of the return of Lady Maynooth and herdaughter. Desiring to say good-night, she attempted to enter her son'sroom. The door was locked on the inside, and no answer could be got totheir cries and knocking. Help was obtained, and the door forced. Theunfortunate young man was found lying near the table. His head had beenhorribly mutilated by an expanding revolver bullet, but no weapon of anysort was to be found in the room. On the table lay two banknotes forten pounds each and seventeen pounds ten in silver and gold, the moneyarranged in little piles of varying amount. There were some figures alsoupon a sheet of paper, with the names of some club friends oppositeto them, from which it was conjectured that before his death he wasendeavouring to make out his losses or winnings at cards. 

A minute examination of the circumstances served only to make the casemore complex. In the first place, no reason could be given why theyoung man should have fastened the door upon the inside. There was thepossibility that the murderer had done this, and had afterwards escapedby the window. The drop was at least twenty feet, however, and a bed ofcrocuses in full bloom lay beneath. Neither the flowers nor the earthshowed any sign of having been disturbed, nor were there any marksupon the narrow strip of grass which separated the house from the road. Apparently, therefore, it was the young man himself who had fastened thedoor. But how did he come by his death? No one could have climbed up tothe window without leaving traces. Suppose a man had fired through thewindow, he would indeed be a remarkable shot who could with arevolver inflict so deadly a wound. Again, Park Lane is a frequentedthoroughfare; there is a cab stand within a hundred yards of the house. No one had heard a shot. And yet there was the dead man and there therevolver bullet, which had mushroomed out, as soft-nosed bullets will, and so inflicted a wound which must have caused instantaneous death. Such were the circumstances of the Park Lane Mystery, which were furthercomplicated by entire absence of motive, since, as I have said, youngAdair was not known to have any enemy, and no attempt had been made toremove the money or valuables in the room. 

All day I turned these facts over in my mind, endeavouring to hit uponsome theory which could reconcile them all, and to find that lineof least resistance which my poor friend had declared to be thestarting-point of every investigation. I confess that I made littleprogress. In the evening I strolled across the Park, and found myselfabout six o'clock at the Oxford Street end of Park Lane. A group ofloafers upon the pavements, all staring up at a particular window, directed me to the house which I had come to see. A tall, thin man withcoloured glasses, whom I strongly suspected of being a plain-clothesdetective, was pointing out some theory of his own, while the otherscrowded round to listen to what he said. I got as near him as I could, but his observations seemed to me to be absurd, so I withdrew again insome disgust. As I did so I struck against an elderly, deformed man, who had been behind me, and I knocked down several books which he wascarrying. I remember that as I picked them up, I observed the titleof one of them, THE ORIGIN OF TREE WORSHIP, and it struck me that thefellow must be some poor bibliophile, who, either as a trade or as ahobby, was a collector of obscure volumes. I endeavoured to apologizefor the accident, but it was evident that these books which I had sounfortunately maltreated were very precious objects in the eyes of theirowner. With a snarl of contempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw hiscurved back and white side-whiskers disappear among the throng. 

My observations of No. 427 Park Lane did little to clear up the problemin which I was interested. The house was separated from the street bya low wall and railing, the whole not more than five feet high. It wasperfectly easy, therefore, for anyone to get into the garden, butthe window was entirely inaccessible, since there was no waterpipe oranything which could help the most active man to climb it. More puzzledthan ever, I retraced my steps to Kensington. I had not been in my studyfive minutes when the maid entered to say that a person desired tosee me. To my astonishment it was none other than my strange old bookcollector, his sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame of whitehair, and his precious volumes, a dozen of them at least, wedged underhis right arm. 

"You're surprised to see me, sir, " said he, in a strange, croakingvoice. 

I acknowledged that I was. 

"Well, I've a conscience, sir, and when I chanced to see you go intothis house, as I came hobbling after you, I thought to myself, I'll juststep in and see that kind gentleman, and tell him that if I was a bitgruff in my manner there was not any harm meant, and that I am muchobliged to him for picking up my books. "

"You make too much of a trifle, " said I. "May I ask how you knew who Iwas?"

"Well, sir, if it isn't too great a liberty, I am a neighbour of yours, for you'll find my little bookshop at the corner of Church Street, and very happy to see you, I am sure. Maybe you collect yourself, sir. Here's BRITISH BIRDS, and CATULLUS, and THE HOLY WAR--a bargain, everyone of them. With five volumes you could just fill that gap on thatsecond shelf. It looks untidy, does it not, sir?"

I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned again, Sherlock Holmes was standing smiling at me across my study table. I roseto my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement, and thenit appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last timein my life. Certainly a gray mist swirled before my eyes, and when itcleared I found my collar-ends undone and the tingling after-taste ofbrandy upon my lips. Holmes was bending over my chair, his flask in hishand. 

"My dear Watson, " said the well-remembered voice, "I owe you a thousandapologies. I had no idea that you would be so affected. "

I gripped him by the arms. 

"Holmes!" I cried. "Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you arealive? Is it possible that you succeeded in climbing out of that awfulabyss?"

"Wait a moment, " said he. "Are you sure that you are really fit todiscuss things? I have given you a serious shock by my unnecessarilydramatic reappearance. "

"I am all right, but indeed, Holmes, I can hardly believe my eyes. Goodheavens! to think that you--you of all men--should be standing in mystudy. " Again I gripped him by the sleeve, and felt the thin, sinewy armbeneath it. "Well, you're not a spirit anyhow, " said I. "My dear chap, I'm overjoyed to see you. Sit down, and tell me how you came alive outof that dreadful chasm. "

He sat opposite to me, and lit a cigarette in his old, nonchalantmanner. He was dressed in the seedy frockcoat of the book merchant, butthe rest of that individual lay in a pile of white hair and old booksupon the table. Holmes looked even thinner and keener than of old, butthere was a dead-white tinge in his aquiline face which told me that hislife recently had not been a healthy one. 

"I am glad to stretch myself, Watson, " said he. "It is no joke when atall man has to take a foot off his stature for several hours on end. Now, my dear fellow, in the matter of these explanations, we have, if Imay ask for your cooperation, a hard and dangerous night's work in frontof us. Perhaps it would be better if I gave you an account of the wholesituation when that work is finished. "

"I am full of curiosity. I should much prefer to hear now. "

"You'll come with me to-night?"

"When you like and where you like. "

"This is, indeed, like the old days. We shall have time for a mouthfulof dinner before we need go. Well, then, about that chasm. I had noserious difficulty in getting out of it, for the very simple reason thatI never was in it. "

"You never were in it?"

"No, Watson, I never was in it. My note to you was absolutely genuine. I had little doubt that I had come to the end of my career when Iperceived the somewhat sinister figure of the late Professor Moriartystanding upon the narrow pathway which led to safety. I read aninexorable purpose in his gray eyes. I exchanged some remarks with him, therefore, and obtained his courteous permission to write the short notewhich you afterwards received. I left it with my cigarette-box and mystick, and I walked along the pathway, Moriarty still at my heels. WhenI reached the end I stood at bay. He drew no weapon, but he rushed at meand threw his long arms around me. He knew that his own game was up, andwas only anxious to revenge himself upon me. We tottered together uponthe brink of the fall. I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu, orthe Japanese system of wrestling, which has more than once been veryuseful to me. I slipped through his grip, and he with a horrible screamkicked madly for a few seconds, and clawed the air with both his hands. But for all his efforts he could not get his balance, and over he went. With my face over the brink, I saw him fall for a long way. Then hestruck a rock, bounded off, and splashed into the water. "

I listened with amazement to this explanation, which Holmes deliveredbetween the puffs of his cigarette. 

"But the tracks!" I cried. "I saw, with my own eyes, that two went downthe path and none returned. "

"It came about in this way. The instant that the Professor haddisappeared, it struck me what a really extraordinarily lucky chanceFate had placed in my way. I knew that Moriarty was not the only man whohad sworn my death. There were at least three others whose desire forvengeance upon me would only be increased by the death of their leader. They were all most dangerous men. One or other would certainly get me. On the other hand, if all the world was convinced that I was dead theywould take liberties, these men, they would soon lay themselves open, and sooner or later I could destroy them. Then it would be time for meto announce that I was still in the land of the living. So rapidly doesthe brain act that I believe I had thought this all out before ProfessorMoriarty had reached the bottom of the Reichenbach Fall. 

"I stood up and examined the rocky wall behind me. In your picturesqueaccount of the matter, which I read with great interest some monthslater, you assert that the wall was sheer. That was not literallytrue. A few small footholds presented themselves, and there was someindication of a ledge. The cliff is so high that to climb it all wasan obvious impossibility, and it was equally impossible to make my wayalong the wet path without leaving some tracks. I might, it is true, have reversed my boots, as I have done on similar occasions, but thesight of three sets of tracks in one direction would certainly havesuggested a deception. On the whole, then, it was best that I shouldrisk the climb. It was not a pleasant business, Watson. The fall roaredbeneath me. I am not a fanciful person, but I give you my word thatI seemed to hear Moriarty's voice screaming at me out of the abyss. Amistake would have been fatal. More than once, as tufts of grass cameout in my hand or my foot slipped in the wet notches of the rock, Ithought that I was gone. But I struggled upward, and at last I reached aledge several feet deep and covered with soft green moss, where I couldlie unseen, in the most perfect comfort. There I was stretched, whenyou, my dear Watson, and all your following were investigating in themost sympathetic and inefficient manner the circumstances of my death. 

"At last, when you had all formed your inevitable and totally erroneousconclusions, you departed for the hotel, and I was left alone. Ihad imagined that I had reached the end of my adventures, but a veryunexpected occurrence showed me that there were surprises still in storefor me. A huge rock, falling from above, boomed past me, struck thepath, and bounded over into the chasm. For an instant I thought thatit was an accident, but a moment later, looking up, I saw a man's headagainst the darkening sky, and another stone struck the very ledge uponwhich I was stretched, within a foot of my head. Of course, the meaningof this was obvious. Moriarty had not been alone. A confederate--andeven that one glance had told me how dangerous a man that confederatewas--had kept guard while the Professor had attacked me. From adistance, unseen by me, he had been a witness of his friend's death andof my escape. He had waited, and then making his way round to the top ofthe cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed where his comrade had failed. 

"I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw that grimface look over the cliff, and I knew that it was the precursor ofanother stone. I scrambled down on to the path. I don't think I couldhave done it in cold blood. It was a hundred times more difficult thangetting up. But I had no time to think of the danger, for another stonesang past me as I hung by my hands from the edge of the ledge. Halfwaydown I slipped, but, by the blessing of God, I landed, torn andbleeding, upon the path. I took to my heels, did ten miles over themountains in the darkness, and a week later I found myself in Florence, with the certainty that no one in the world knew what had become of me. 

"I had only one confidant--my brother Mycroft. I owe you many apologies, my dear Watson, but it was all-important that it should be thought Iwas dead, and it is quite certain that you would not have written soconvincing an account of my unhappy end had you not yourself thoughtthat it was true. Several times during the last three years I have takenup my pen to write to you, but always I feared lest your affectionateregard for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which would betraymy secret. For that reason I turned away from you this evening whenyou upset my books, for I was in danger at the time, and any show ofsurprise and emotion upon your part might have drawn attention to myidentity and led to the most deplorable and irreparable results. As toMycroft, I had to confide in him in order to obtain the money whichI needed. The course of events in London did not run so well as I hadhoped, for the trial of the Moriarty gang left two of its most dangerousmembers, my own most vindictive enemies, at liberty. I travelled fortwo years in Tibet, therefore, and amused myself by visiting Lhassa, and spending some days with the head lama. You may have read of theremarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but I am surethat it never occurred to you that you were receiving news of yourfriend. I then passed through Persia, looked in at Mecca, and paid ashort but interesting visit to the Khalifa at Khartoum the results ofwhich I have communicated to the Foreign Office. Returning to France, Ispent some months in a research into the coal-tar derivatives, which Iconducted in a laboratory at Montpellier, in the south of France. Havingconcluded this to my satisfaction and learning that only one of myenemies was now left in London, I was about to return when my movementswere hastened by the news of this very remarkable Park Lane Mystery, which not only appealed to me by its own merits, but which seemed tooffer some most peculiar personal opportunities. I came over at once toLondon, called in my own person at Baker Street, threw Mrs. Hudson intoviolent hysterics, and found that Mycroft had preserved my rooms and mypapers exactly as they had always been. So it was, my dear Watson, thatat two o'clock to-day I found myself in my old armchair in my own oldroom, and only wishing that I could have seen my old friend Watson inthe other chair which he has so often adorned. "

Such was the remarkable narrative to which I listened on that Aprilevening--a narrative which would have been utterly incredible to me hadit not been confirmed by the actual sight of the tall, spare figure andthe keen, eager face, which I had never thought to see again. In somemanner he had learned of my own sad bereavement, and his sympathy wasshown in his manner rather than in his words. "Work is the best antidoteto sorrow, my dear Watson, " said he; "and I have a piece of work for usboth to-night which, if we can bring it to a successful conclusion, willin itself justify a man's life on this planet. " In vain I begged himto tell me more. "You will hear and see enough before morning, " heanswered. "We have three years of the past to discuss. Let that sufficeuntil half-past nine, when we start upon the notable adventure of theempty house. "

It was indeed like old times when, at that hour, I found myself seatedbeside him in a hansom, my revolver in my pocket, and the thrill ofadventure in my heart. Holmes was cold and stern and silent. As thegleam of the street-lamps flashed upon his austere features, I saw thathis brows were drawn down in thought and his thin lips compressed. Iknew not what wild beast we were about to hunt down in the dark jungleof criminal London, but I was well assured, from the bearing of thismaster huntsman, that the adventure was a most grave one--while thesardonic smile which occasionally broke through his ascetic gloom bodedlittle good for the object of our quest. 

I had imagined that we were bound for Baker Street, but Holmes stoppedthe cab at the corner of Cavendish Square. I observed that as he steppedout he gave a most searching glance to right and left, and at everysubsequent street corner he took the utmost pains to assure that he wasnot followed. Our route was certainly a singular one. Holmes's knowledgeof the byways of London was extraordinary, and on this occasion hepassed rapidly and with an assured step through a network of mews andstables, the very existence of which I had never known. We emerged atlast into a small road, lined with old, gloomy houses, which led us intoManchester Street, and so to Blandford Street. Here he turned swiftlydown a narrow passage, passed through a wooden gate into a desertedyard, and then opened with a key the back door of a house. We enteredtogether, and he closed it behind us. 

The place was pitch dark, but it was evident to me that it was an emptyhouse. Our feet creaked and crackled over the bare planking, and myoutstretched hand touched a wall from which the paper was hanging inribbons. Holmes's cold, thin fingers closed round my wrist and led meforward down a long hall, until I dimly saw the murky fanlight over thedoor. Here Holmes turned suddenly to the right and we found ourselvesin a large, square, empty room, heavily shadowed in the corners, butfaintly lit in the centre from the lights of the street beyond. Therewas no lamp near, and the window was thick with dust, so that we couldonly just discern each other's figures within. My companion put his handupon my shoulder and his lips close to my ear. 

"Do you know where we are?" he whispered. 

"Surely that is Baker Street, " I answered, staring through the dimwindow. 

"Exactly. We are in Camden House, which stands opposite to our own oldquarters. "

"But why are we here?"

"Because it commands so excellent a view of that picturesque pile. MightI trouble you, my dear Watson, to draw a little nearer to the window, taking every precaution not to show yourself, and then to look up at ourold rooms--the starting-point of so many of your little fairy-tales? Wewill see if my three years of absence have entirely taken away my powerto surprise you. "

I crept forward and looked across at the familiar window. As my eyesfell upon it, I gave a gasp and a cry of amazement. The blind was down, and a strong light was burning in the room. The shadow of a man whowas seated in a chair within was thrown in hard, black outline upon theluminous screen of the window. There was no mistaking the poise of thehead, the squareness of the shoulders, the sharpness of the features. The face was turned half-round, and the effect was that of one ofthose black silhouettes which our grandparents loved to frame. It was aperfect reproduction of Holmes. So amazed was I that I threw out myhand to make sure that the man himself was standing beside me. He wasquivering with silent laughter. 

"Well?" said he. 

"Good heavens!" I cried. "It is marvellous. "

"I trust that age doth not wither nor custom stale my infinite variety, "said he, and I recognized in his voice the joy and pride which theartist takes in his own creation. "It really is rather like me, is itnot?"

"I should be prepared to swear that it was you. "

"The credit of the execution is due to Monsieur Oscar Meunier, ofGrenoble, who spent some days in doing the moulding. It is a bust inwax. The rest I arranged myself during my visit to Baker Street thisafternoon. "

"But why?"

"Because, my dear Watson, I had the strongest possible reason forwishing certain people to think that I was there when I was reallyelsewhere. "

"And you thought the rooms were watched?"

"I KNEW that they were watched. "

"By whom?"

"By my old enemies, Watson. By the charming society whose leader liesin the Reichenbach Fall. You must remember that they knew, and onlythey knew, that I was still alive. Sooner or later they believed that Ishould come back to my rooms. They watched them continuously, and thismorning they saw me arrive. "

"How do you know?"

"Because I recognized their sentinel when I glanced out of my window. Heis a harmless enough fellow, Parker by name, a garroter by trade, and aremarkable performer upon the jew's-harp. I cared nothing for him. ButI cared a great deal for the much more formidable person who was behindhim, the bosom friend of Moriarty, the man who dropped the rocks overthe cliff, the most cunning and dangerous criminal in London. That isthe man who is after me to-night Watson, and that is the man who isquite unaware that we are after him. "

My friend's plans were gradually revealing themselves. From thisconvenient retreat, the watchers were being watched and the trackerstracked. That angular shadow up yonder was the bait, and we were thehunters. In silence we stood together in the darkness and watched thehurrying figures who passed and repassed in front of us. Holmes wassilent and motionless; but I could tell that he was keenly alert, andthat his eyes were fixed intently upon the stream of passers-by. It wasa bleak and boisterous night and the wind whistled shrilly down thelong street. Many people were moving to and fro, most of them muffled intheir coats and cravats. Once or twice it seemed to me that I had seenthe same figure before, and I especially noticed two men who appearedto be sheltering themselves from the wind in the doorway of a housesome distance up the street. I tried to draw my companion's attention tothem; but he gave a little ejaculation of impatience, and continuedto stare into the street. More than once he fidgeted with his feet andtapped rapidly with his fingers upon the wall. It was evident to methat he was becoming uneasy, and that his plans were not working outaltogether as he had hoped. At last, as midnight approached andthe street gradually cleared, he paced up and down the room inuncontrollable agitation. I was about to make some remark to him, whenI raised my eyes to the lighted window, and again experienced almost asgreat a surprise as before. I clutched Holmes's arm, and pointed upward. 

"The shadow has moved!" I cried. 

It was indeed no longer the profile, but the back, which was turnedtowards us. 

Three years had certainly not smoothed the asperities of his temper orhis impatience with a less active intelligence than his own. 

"Of course it has moved, " said he. "Am I such a farcical bungler, Watson, that I should erect an obvious dummy, and expect that some ofthe sharpest men in Europe would be deceived by it? We have been inthis room two hours, and Mrs. Hudson has made some change in that figureeight times, or once in every quarter of an hour. She works it from thefront, so that her shadow may never be seen. Ah!" He drew in his breathwith a shrill, excited intake. In the dim light I saw his head thrownforward, his whole attitude rigid with attention. Outside the streetwas absolutely deserted. Those two men might still be crouching in thedoorway, but I could no longer see them. All was still and dark, saveonly that brilliant yellow screen in front of us with the black figureoutlined upon its centre. Again in the utter silence I heard that thin, sibilant note which spoke of intense suppressed excitement. An instantlater he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and Ifelt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me werequivering. Never had I known my friend more moved, and yet the darkstreet still stretched lonely and motionless before us. 

But suddenly I was aware of that which his keener senses had alreadydistinguished. A low, stealthy sound came to my ears, not from thedirection of Baker Street, but from the back of the very house in whichwe lay concealed. A door opened and shut. An instant later stepscrept down the passage--steps which were meant to be silent, but whichreverberated harshly through the empty house. Holmes crouched backagainst the wall, and I did the same, my hand closing upon the handleof my revolver. Peering through the gloom, I saw the vague outline of aman, a shade blacker than the blackness of the open door. He stood foran instant, and then he crept forward, crouching, menacing, into theroom. He was within three yards of us, this sinister figure, and I hadbraced myself to meet his spring, before I realized that he had no ideaof our presence. He passed close beside us, stole over to the window, and very softly and noiselessly raised it for half a foot. As he sank tothe level of this opening, the light of the street, no longer dimmed bythe dusty glass, fell full upon his face. The man seemed to be besidehimself with excitement. His two eyes shone like stars, and hisfeatures were working convulsively. He was an elderly man, with a thin, projecting nose, a high, bald forehead, and a huge grizzled moustache. An opera hat was pushed to the back of his head, and an evening dressshirt-front gleamed out through his open overcoat. His face was gauntand swarthy, scored with deep, savage lines. In his hand he carried whatappeared to be a stick, but as he laid it down upon the floor it gavea metallic clang. Then from the pocket of his overcoat he drew a bulkyobject, and he busied himself in some task which ended with a loud, sharp click, as if a spring or bolt had fallen into its place. Stillkneeling upon the floor he bent forward and threw all his weight andstrength upon some lever, with the result that there came a long, whirling, grinding noise, ending once more in a powerful click. Hestraightened himself then, and I saw that what he held in his hand wasa sort of gun, with a curiously misshapen butt. He opened it at thebreech, put something in, and snapped the breech-lock. Then, crouchingdown, he rested the end of the barrel upon the ledge of the open window, and I saw his long moustache droop over the stock and his eye gleam asit peered along the sights. I heard a little sigh of satisfaction ashe cuddled the butt into his shoulder; and saw that amazing target, the black man on the yellow ground, standing clear at the end of hisforesight. For an instant he was rigid and motionless. Then his fingertightened on the trigger. There was a strange, loud whiz and a long, silvery tinkle of broken glass. At that instant Holmes sprang like atiger on to the marksman's back, and hurled him flat upon his face. Hewas up again in a moment, and with convulsive strength he seizedHolmes by the throat, but I struck him on the head with the butt of myrevolver, and he dropped again upon the floor. I fell upon him, and asI held him my comrade blew a shrill call upon a whistle. There was theclatter of running feet upon the pavement, and two policemen in uniform, with one plain-clothes detective, rushed through the front entrance andinto the room. 

"That you, Lestrade?" said Holmes. 

"Yes, Mr. Holmes. I took the job myself. It's good to see you back inLondon, sir. "

"I think you want a little unofficial help. Three undetected murders inone year won't do, Lestrade. But you handled the Molesey Mystery withless than your usual--that's to say, you handled it fairly well. "

We had all risen to our feet, our prisoner breathing hard, with astalwart constable on each side of him. Already a few loiterers hadbegun to collect in the street. Holmes stepped up to the window, closedit, and dropped the blinds. Lestrade had produced two candles, and thepolicemen had uncovered their lanterns. I was able at last to have agood look at our prisoner. 

It was a tremendously virile and yet sinister face which was turnedtowards us. With the brow of a philosopher above and the jaw of asensualist below, the man must have started with great capacities forgood or for evil. But one could not look upon his cruel blue eyes, withtheir drooping, cynical lids, or upon the fierce, aggressive nose andthe threatening, deep-lined brow, without reading Nature's plainestdanger-signals. He took no heed of any of us, but his eyes were fixedupon Holmes's face with an expression in which hatred and amazement wereequally blended. "You fiend!" he kept on muttering. "You clever, cleverfiend!"

"Ah, Colonel!" said Holmes, arranging his rumpled collar. "'Journeys endin lovers' meetings, ' as the old play says. I don't think I have had thepleasure of seeing you since you favoured me with those attentions as Ilay on the ledge above the Reichenbach Fall. "

The colonel still stared at my friend like a man in a trance. "Youcunning, cunning fiend!" was all that he could say. 

"I have not introduced you yet, " said Holmes. "This, gentlemen, isColonel Sebastian Moran, once of Her Majesty's Indian Army, and the bestheavy-game shot that our Eastern Empire has ever produced. I believeI am correct Colonel, in saying that your bag of tigers still remainsunrivalled?"

The fierce old man said nothing, but still glared at my companion. Withhis savage eyes and bristling moustache he was wonderfully like a tigerhimself. 

"I wonder that my very simple stratagem could deceive so old a SHIKARI, "said Holmes. "It must be very familiar to you. Have you not tethered ayoung kid under a tree, lain above it with your rifle, and waited forthe bait to bring up your tiger? This empty house is my tree, and youare my tiger. You have possibly had other guns in reserve in case thereshould be several tigers, or in the unlikely supposition of your own aimfailing you. These, " he pointed around, "are my other guns. The parallelis exact. "

Colonel Moran sprang forward with a snarl of rage, but the constablesdragged him back. The fury upon his face was terrible to look at. 

"I confess that you had one small surprise for me, " said Holmes. "I didnot anticipate that you would yourself make use of this empty house andthis convenient front window. I had imagined you as operating from thestreet, where my friend, Lestrade and his merry men were awaiting you. With that exception, all has gone as I expected. "

Colonel Moran turned to the official detective. 

"You may or may not have just cause for arresting me, " said he, "but atleast there can be no reason why I should submit to the gibes of thisperson. If I am in the hands of the law, let things be done in a legalway. "

"Well, that's reasonable enough, " said Lestrade. "Nothing further youhave to say, Mr. Holmes, before we go?"

Holmes had picked up the powerful air-gun from the floor, and wasexamining its mechanism. 

"An admirable and unique weapon, " said he, "noiseless and of tremendouspower: I knew Von Herder, the blind German mechanic, who constructed itto the order of the late Professor Moriarty. For years I have beenaware of its existence though I have never before had the opportunity ofhandling it. I commend it very specially to your attention, Lestrade andalso the bullets which fit it. "

"You can trust us to look after that, Mr. Holmes, " said Lestrade, as thewhole party moved towards the door. "Anything further to say?"

"Only to ask what charge you intend to prefer?"

"What charge, sir? Why, of course, the attempted murder of Mr. SherlockHolmes. "

"Not so, Lestrade. I do not propose to appear in the matter at all. Toyou, and to you only, belongs the credit of the remarkable arrest whichyou have effected. Yes, Lestrade, I congratulate you! With your usualhappy mixture of cunning and audacity, you have got him. "

"Got him! Got whom, Mr. Holmes?"

"The man that the whole force has been seeking in vain--ColonelSebastian Moran, who shot the Honourable Ronald Adair with an expandingbullet from an air-gun through the open window of the second-floorfront of No. 427 Park Lane, upon the thirtieth of last month. That's thecharge, Lestrade. And now, Watson, if you can endure the draught froma broken window, I think that half an hour in my study over a cigar mayafford you some profitable amusement. "

Our old chambers had been left unchanged through the supervision ofMycroft Holmes and the immediate care of Mrs. Hudson. As I entered Isaw, it is true, an unwonted tidiness, but the old landmarks were allin their place. There were the chemical corner and the acid-stained, deal-topped table. There upon a shelf was the row of formidablescrap-books and books of reference which many of our fellow-citizenswould have been so glad to burn. The diagrams, the violin-case, and thepipe-rack--even the Persian slipper which contained the tobacco--allmet my eyes as I glanced round me. There were two occupants of theroom--one, Mrs. Hudson, who beamed upon us both as we entered--theother, the strange dummy which had played so important a part in theevening's adventures. It was a wax-coloured model of my friend, soadmirably done that it was a perfect facsimile. It stood on a smallpedestal table with an old dressing-gown of Holmes's so draped round itthat the illusion from the street was absolutely perfect. 

"I hope you observed all precautions, Mrs. Hudson?" said Holmes. 

"I went to it on my knees, sir, just as you told me. "

"Excellent. You carried the thing out very well. Did you observe wherethe bullet went?"

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid it has spoilt your beautiful bust, for it passedright through the head and flattened itself on the wall. I picked it upfrom the carpet. Here it is!"

Holmes held it out to me. "A soft revolver bullet, as you perceive, Watson. There's genius in that, for who would expect to find such athing fired from an airgun? All right, Mrs. Hudson. I am much obligedfor your assistance. And now, Watson, let me see you in your old seatonce more, for there are several points which I should like to discusswith you. "

He had thrown off the seedy frockcoat, and now he was the Holmes of oldin the mouse-coloured dressing-gown which he took from his effigy. 

"The old SHIKARI'S nerves have not lost their steadiness, nor his eyestheir keenness, " said he, with a laugh, as he inspected the shatteredforehead of his bust. 

"Plumb in the middle of the back of the head and smack through thebrain. He was the best shot in India, and I expect that there are fewbetter in London. Have you heard the name?"

"No, I have not. "

"Well, well, such is fame! But, then, if I remember right, you had notheard the name of Professor James Moriarty, who had one of the greatbrains of the century. Just give me down my index of biographies fromthe shelf. "

He turned over the pages lazily, leaning back in his chair and blowinggreat clouds from his cigar. 

"My collection of M's is a fine one, " said he. "Moriarty himself isenough to make any letter illustrious, and here is Morgan the poisoner, and Merridew of abominable memory, and Mathews, who knocked out my leftcanine in the waiting-room at Charing Cross, and, finally, here is ourfriend of to-night. "

He handed over the book, and I read:

MORAN, SEBASTIAN, COLONEL. Unemployed. Formerly 1st Bangalore Pioneers. Born London, 1840. Son of Sir Augustus Moran, C. B. , once BritishMinister to Persia. Educated Eton and Oxford. Served in Jowaki Campaign, Afghan Campaign, Charasiab (despatches), Sherpur, and Cabul. Author ofHEAVY GAME OF THE WESTERN HIMALAYAS (1881); THREE MONTHS IN THEJUNGLE (1884). Address: Conduit Street. Clubs: The Anglo-Indian, theTankerville, the Bagatelle Card Club. 

On the margin was written, in Holmes's precise hand:

The second most dangerous man in London. 

"This is astonishing, " said I, as I handed back the volume. "The man'scareer is that of an honourable soldier. "

"It is true, " Holmes answered. "Up to a certain point he did well. Hewas always a man of iron nerve, and the story is still told in India howhe crawled down a drain after a wounded man-eating tiger. There are sometrees, Watson, which grow to a certain height, and then suddenly developsome unsightly eccentricity. You will see it often in humans. I havea theory that the individual represents in his development the wholeprocession of his ancestors, and that such a sudden turn to good orevil stands for some strong influence which came into the line of hispedigree. The person becomes, as it were, the epitome of the history ofhis own family. "

"It is surely rather fanciful. "

"Well, I don't insist upon it. Whatever the cause, Colonel Moran beganto go wrong. Without any open scandal, he still made India toohot to hold him. He retired, came to London, and again acquired an evilname. It was at this time that he was sought out by Professor Moriarty, to whom for a time he was chief of the staff. Moriarty supplied himliberally with money, and used him only in one or two very high-classjobs, which no ordinary criminal could have undertaken. You may havesome recollection of the death of Mrs. Stewart, of Lauder, in 1887. Not? Well, I am sure Moran was at the bottom of it, but nothing couldbe proved. So cleverly was the colonel concealed that, even when theMoriarty gang was broken up, we could not incriminate him. You rememberat that date, when I called upon you in your rooms, how I put up theshutters for fear of air-guns? No doubt you thought me fanciful. I knewexactly what I was doing, for I knew of the existence of this remarkablegun, and I knew also that one of the best shots in the world would bebehind it. When we were in Switzerland he followed us with Moriarty, and it was undoubtedly he who gave me that evil five minutes on theReichenbach ledge. 

"You may think that I read the papers with some attention during mysojourn in France, on the look-out for any chance of laying him by theheels. So long as he was free in London, my life would really not havebeen worth living. Night and day the shadow would have been over me, andsooner or later his chance must have come. What could I do? I could notshoot him at sight, or I should myself be in the dock. There was no useappealing to a magistrate. They cannot interfere on the strength of whatwould appear to them to be a wild suspicion. So I could do nothing. ButI watched the criminal news, knowing that sooner or later I should gethim. Then came the death of this Ronald Adair. My chance had come atlast. Knowing what I did, was it not certain that Colonel Moran had doneit? He had played cards with the lad, he had followed him home from theclub, he had shot him through the open window. There was not a doubt ofit. The bullets alone are enough to put his head in a noose. I cameover at once. I was seen by the sentinel, who would, I knew, directthe colonel's attention to my presence. He could not fail to connectmy sudden return with his crime, and to be terribly alarmed. I was surethat he would make an attempt to get me out of the way AT once, andwould bring round his murderous weapon for that purpose. I left him anexcellent mark in the window, and, having warned the police that theymight be needed--by the way, Watson, you spotted their presence in thatdoorway with unerring accuracy--I took up what seemed to me to be ajudicious post for observation, never dreaming that he would choose thesame spot for his attack. Now, my dear Watson, does anything remain forme to explain?"

"Yes, " said I. "You have not made it clear what was Colonel Moran'smotive in murdering the Honourable Ronald Adair?"

"Ah! my dear Watson, there we come into those realms of conjecture, where the most logical mind may be at fault. Each may form his ownhypothesis upon the present evidence, and yours is as likely to becorrect as mine. "

"You have formed one, then?"

"I think that it is not difficult to explain the facts. It came out inevidence that Colonel Moran and young Adair had, between them, won aconsiderable amount of money. Now, undoubtedly played foul--of that Ihave long been aware. I believe that on the day of the murder Adair haddiscovered that Moran was cheating. Very likely he had spoken to himprivately, and had threatened to expose him unless he voluntarilyresigned his membership of the club, and promised not to play cardsagain. It is unlikely that a youngster like Adair would at once make ahideous scandal by exposing a well known man so much older than himself. Probably he acted as I suggest. The exclusion from his clubs would meanruin to Moran, who lived by his ill-gotten card-gains. He thereforemurdered Adair, who at the time was endeavouring to work out howmuch money he should himself return, since he could not profit by hispartner's foul play. He locked the door lest the ladies should surprisehim and insist upon knowing what he was doing with these names andcoins. Will it pass?"

"I have no doubt that you have hit upon the truth. "

"It will be verified or disproved at the trial. Meanwhile, come whatmay, Colonel Moran will trouble us no more. The famous air-gun of VonHerder will embellish the Scotland Yard Museum, and once againMr. Sherlock Holmes is free to devote his life to examining thoseinteresting little problems which the complex life of London soplentifully presents. "

THE ADVENTURE OF THE NORWOOD BUILDER

"From the point of view of the criminal expert, " said Mr. SherlockHolmes, "London has become a singularly uninteresting city since thedeath of the late lamented Professor Moriarty. "

"I can hardly think that you would find many decent citizens to agreewith you, " I answered. 

"Well, well, I must not be selfish, " said he, with a smile, as he pushedback his chair from the breakfast-table. "The community is certainlythe gainer, and no one the loser, save the poor out-of-work specialist, whose occupation has gone. With that man in the field, one's morningpaper presented infinite possibilities. Often it was only the smallesttrace, Watson, the faintest indication, and yet it was enough to tell methat the great malignant brain was there, as the gentlest tremors ofthe edges of the web remind one of the foul spider which lurks in thecentre. Petty thefts, wanton assaults, purposeless outrage--to the manwho held the clue all could be worked into one connected whole. To thescientific student of the higher criminal world, no capital in Europeoffered the advantages which London then possessed. But now----" Heshrugged his shoulders in humorous deprecation of the state of thingswhich he had himself done so much to produce. 

At the time of which I speak, Holmes had been back for some months, and I at his request had sold my practice and returned to share the oldquarters in Baker Street. A young doctor, named Verner, had purchased mysmall Kensington practice, and given with astonishingly little demur thehighest price that I ventured to ask--an incident which only explaineditself some years later, when I found that Verner was a distant relationof Holmes, and that it was my friend who had really found the money. 

Our months of partnership had not been so uneventful as he had stated, for I find, on looking over my notes, that this period includes the caseof the papers of ex-President Murillo, and also the shocking affair ofthe Dutch steamship FRIESLAND, which so nearly cost us both our lives. His cold and proud nature was always averse, however, from anythingin the shape of public applause, and he bound me in the moststringent terms to say no further word of himself, his methods, or hissuccesses--a prohibition which, as I have explained, has only now beenremoved. 

Mr. Sherlock Holmes was leaning back in his chair after his whimsicalprotest, and was unfolding his morning paper in a leisurely fashion, when our attention was arrested by a tremendous ring at the bell, followed immediately by a hollow drumming sound, as if someone werebeating on the outer door with his fist. As it opened there came atumultuous rush into the hall, rapid feet clattered up the stair, and aninstant later a wild-eyed and frantic young man, pale, disheveled, andpalpitating, burst into the room. He looked from one to the other of us, and under our gaze of inquiry he became conscious that some apology wasneeded for this unceremonious entry. 

"I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes, " he cried. "You mustn't blame me. I am nearlymad. Mr. Holmes, I am the unhappy John Hector McFarlane. "

He made the announcement as if the name alone would explain both hisvisit and its manner, but I could see, by my companion's unresponsiveface, that it meant no more to him than to me. 

"Have a cigarette, Mr. McFarlane, " said he, pushing his case across. "I am sure that, with your symptoms, my friend Dr. Watson here wouldprescribe a sedative. The weather has been so very warm these last fewdays. Now, if you feel a little more composed, I should be glad if youwould sit down in that chair, and tell us very slowly and quietly whoyou are, and what it is that you want. You mentioned your name, as ifI should recognize it, but I assure you that, beyond the obvious factsthat you are a bachelor, a solicitor, a Freemason, and an asthmatic, Iknow nothing whatever about you. "

Familiar as I was with my friend's methods, it was not difficult for meto follow his deductions, and to observe the untidiness of attire, thesheaf of legal papers, the watch-charm, and the breathing which hadprompted them. Our client, however, stared in amazement. 

"Yes, I am all that, Mr. Holmes; and, in addition, I am the mostunfortunate man at this moment in London. For heaven's sake, don'tabandon me, Mr. Holmes! If they come to arrest me before I have finishedmy story, make them give me time, so that I may tell you the wholetruth. I could go to jail happy if I knew that you were working for meoutside. "

"Arrest you!" said Holmes. "This is really most grati--most interesting. On what charge do you expect to be arrested?"

"Upon the charge of murdering Mr. Jonas Oldacre, of Lower Norwood. "

My companion's expressive face showed a sympathy which was not, I amafraid, entirely unmixed with satisfaction. 

"Dear me, " said he, "it was only this moment at breakfast that I wassaying to my friend, Dr. Watson, that sensational cases had disappearedout of our papers. "

Our visitor stretched forward a quivering hand and picked up the DAILYTELEGRAPH, which still lay upon Holmes's knee. 

"If you had looked at it, sir, you would have seen at a glance what theerrand is on which I have come to you this morning. I feel as if my nameand my misfortune must be in every man's mouth. " He turned it over toexpose the central page. "Here it is, and with your permission Iwill read it to you. Listen to this, Mr. Holmes. The headlines are:'Mysterious Affair at Lower Norwood. Disappearance of a Well KnownBuilder. Suspicion of Murder and Arson. A Clue to the Criminal. ' That isthe clue which they are already following, Mr. Holmes, and I know thatit leads infallibly to me. I have been followed from London BridgeStation, and I am sure that they are only waiting for the warrant toarrest me. It will break my mother's heart--it will break her heart!"He wrung his hands in an agony of apprehension, and swayed backward andforward in his chair. 

I looked with interest upon this man, who was accused of being theperpetrator of a crime of violence. He was flaxen-haired and handsome, in a washed-out negative fashion, with frightened blue eyes, and aclean-shaven face, with a weak, sensitive mouth. His age may have beenabout twenty-seven, his dress and bearing that of a gentleman. From thepocket of his light summer overcoat protruded the bundle of indorsedpapers which proclaimed his profession. 

"We must use what time we have, " said Holmes. "Watson, would you havethe kindness to take the paper and to read the paragraph in question?"

Underneath the vigorous headlines which our client had quoted, I readthe following suggestive narrative:

"Late last night, or early this morning, an incident occurred at LowerNorwood which points, it is feared, to a serious crime. Mr. JonasOldacre is a well known resident of that suburb, where he has carriedon 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 Sydenhamend of the road of that name. He has had the reputation of being aman of eccentric habits, secretive and retiring. For some years he haspractically withdrawn from the business, in which he is said to havemassed considerable wealth. A small timber-yard still exists, however, at the back of the house, and last night, about twelve o'clock, an alarmwas given that one of the stacks was on fire. The engines were soon uponthe spot, but the dry wood burned with great fury, and it was impossibleto arrest the conflagration until the stack had been entirely consumed. Up to this point the incident bore the appearance of an ordinaryaccident, but fresh indications seem to point to serious crime. Surprisewas expressed at the absence of the master of the establishment fromthe scene of the fire, and an inquiry followed, which showed that he haddisappeared from the house. An examination of his room revealed that thebed had not been slept in, that a safe which stood in it was open, thata number of important papers were scattered about the room, and finally, that there were signs of a murderous struggle, slight traces of bloodbeing found within the room, and an oaken walking-stick, which alsoshowed stains of blood upon the handle. It is known that Mr. JonasOldacre had received a late visitor in his bedroom upon that night, andthe stick found has been identified as the property of this person, whois a young London solicitor named John Hector McFarlane, junior partnerof Graham and McFarlane, of 426 Gresham Buildings, E. C. The policebelieve that they have evidence in their possession which suppliesa very convincing motive for the crime, and altogether it cannot bedoubted that sensational developments will follow. 

"LATER. --It is rumoured as we go to press that Mr. John Hector McFarlanehas actually been arrested on the charge of the murder of Mr. JonasOldacre. It is at least certain that a warrant has been issued. Therehave been further and sinister developments in the investigation atNorwood. Besides the signs of a struggle in the room of the unfortunatebuilder it is now known that the French windows of his bedroom (which ison the ground floor) were found to be open, that there were marks asif some bulky object had been dragged across to the wood-pile, and, finally, it is asserted that charred remains have been found among thecharcoal ashes of the fire. The police theory is that a most sensationalcrime has been committed, that the victim was clubbed to death in hisown bedroom, his papers rifled, and his dead body dragged across tothe wood-stack, which was then ignited so as to hide all traces of thecrime. The conduct of the criminal investigation has been left inthe experienced hands of Inspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, who isfollowing up the clues with his accustomed energy and sagacity. "

Sherlock Holmes listened with closed eyes and fingertips together tothis remarkable account. 

"The case has certainly some points of interest, " said he, in hislanguid fashion. "May I ask, in the first place, Mr. McFarlane, howit is that you are still at liberty, since there appears to be enoughevidence to justify your arrest?"

"I live at Torrington Lodge, Blackheath, with my parents, Mr. Holmes, but last night, having to do business very late with Mr. Jonas Oldacre, I stayed at an hotel in Norwood, and came to my business from there. Iknew nothing of this affair until I was in the train, when I read whatyou have just heard. I at once saw the horrible danger of my position, and I hurried to put the case into your hands. I have no doubt that Ishould have been arrested either at my city office or at my home. Aman followed me from London Bridge Station, and I have no doubt--Greatheaven! what is that?"

It was a clang of the bell, followed instantly by heavy steps upon thestair. A moment later, our old friend Lestrade appeared in the doorway. Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of one or two uniformed policemenoutside. 

"Mr. John Hector McFarlane?" said Lestrade. 

Our unfortunate client rose with a ghastly face. 

"I arrest you for the wilful murder of Mr. Jonas Oldacre, of LowerNorwood. "

McFarlane turned to us with a gesture of despair, and sank into hischair once more like one who is crushed. 

"One moment, Lestrade, " said Holmes. "Half an hour more or less can makeno difference to you, and the gentleman was about to give us an accountof this very interesting affair, which might aid us in clearing it up. "

"I think there will be no difficulty in clearing it up, " said Lestrade, grimly. 

"None the less, with your permission, I should be much interested tohear his account. "

"Well, Mr. Holmes, it is difficult for me to refuse you anything, foryou have been of use to the force once or twice in the past, and we oweyou a good turn at Scotland Yard, " said Lestrade. "At the same time Imust remain with my prisoner, and I am bound to warn him that anythinghe may say will appear in evidence against him. "

"I wish nothing better, " said our client. "All I ask is that you shouldhear and recognize the absolute truth. "

Lestrade looked at his watch. "I'll give you half an hour, " said he. 

"I must explain first, " said McFarlane, "that I knew nothing of Mr. Jonas Oldacre. His name was familiar to me, for many years ago myparents were acquainted with him, but they drifted apart. I was verymuch surprised therefore, when yesterday, about three o'clock in theafternoon, he walked into my office in the city. But I was still moreastonished when he told me the object of his visit. He had in his handseveral sheets of a notebook, covered with scribbled writing--here theyare--and he laid them on my table. 

"'Here is my will, ' said he. 'I want you, Mr. McFarlane, to cast it intoproper legal shape. I will sit here while you do so. '

"I set myself to copy it, and you can imagine my astonishment when Ifound that, with some reservations, he had left all his property to me. He was a strange little ferret-like man, with white eyelashes, and whenI looked up at him I found his keen gray eyes fixed upon me with anamused expression. I could hardly believe my own as I read the terms ofthe will; but he explained that he was a bachelor with hardly any livingrelation, that he had known my parents in his youth, and that he hadalways heard of me as a very deserving young man, and was assured thathis money would be in worthy hands. Of course, I could only stammerout my thanks. The will was duly finished, signed, and witnessed bymy clerk. This is it on the blue paper, and these slips, as I haveexplained, are the rough draft. Mr. Jonas Oldacre then informed methat there were a number of documents--building leases, title-deeds, mortgages, scrip, and so forth--which it was necessary that I should seeand understand. He said that his mind would not be easy until the wholething was settled, and he begged me to come out to his house atNorwood that night, bringing the will with me, and to arrange matters. 'Remember, my boy, not one word to your parents about the affair untileverything is settled. We will keep it as a little surprise forthem. ' He was very insistent upon this point, and made me promise itfaithfully. 

"You can imagine, Mr. Holmes, that I was not in a humour to refuse himanything that he might ask. He was my benefactor, and all my desire wasto carry out his wishes in every particular. I sent a telegram home, therefore, to say that I had important business on hand, and that it wasimpossible for me to say how late I might be. Mr. Oldacre had told methat he would like me to have supper with him at nine, as he might notbe home before that hour. I had some difficulty in finding his house, however, and it was nearly half-past before I reached it. I foundhim----"

"One moment!" said Holmes. "Who opened the door?"

"A middle-aged woman, who was, I suppose, his housekeeper. "

"And it was she, I presume, who mentioned your name?"

"Exactly, " said McFarlane. 

"Pray proceed. "

McFarlane wiped his damp brow, and then continued his narrative:

"I was shown by this woman into a sitting-room, where a frugal supperwas laid out. Afterwards, Mr. Jonas Oldacre led me into his bedroom, inwhich there stood a heavy safe. This he opened and took out a mass ofdocuments, which we went over together. It was between eleven and twelvewhen we finished. He remarked that we must not disturb the housekeeper. He showed me out through his own French window, which had been open allthis time. "

"Was the blind down?" asked Holmes. 

"I will not be sure, but I believe that it was only half down. Yes, Iremember how he pulled it up in order to swing open the window. I couldnot find my stick, and he said, 'Never mind, my boy, I shall see a gooddeal of you now, I hope, and I will keep your stick until you come backto claim it. ' I left him there, the safe open, and the papers made upin packets upon the table. It was so late that I could not get back toBlackheath, so I spent the night at the Anerley Arms, and I knew nothingmore until I read of this horrible affair in the morning. "

"Anything more that you would like to ask, Mr. Holmes?" said Lestrade, whose eyebrows had gone up once or twice during this remarkableexplanation. 

"Not until I have been to Blackheath. "

"You mean to Norwood, " said Lestrade. 

"Oh, yes, no doubt that is what I must have meant, " said Holmes, withhis enigmatical smile. Lestrade had learned by more experiences than hewould care to acknowledge that that brain could cut through that whichwas impenetrable to him. I saw him look curiously at my companion. 

"I think I should like to have a word with you presently, Mr. SherlockHolmes, " said he. "Now, Mr. McFarlane, two of my constables are atthe door, and there is a four-wheeler waiting. " The wretched young manarose, and with a last beseeching glance at us walked from the room. Theofficers conducted him to the cab, but Lestrade remained. 

Holmes had picked up the pages which formed the rough draft of the will, and was looking at them with the keenest interest upon his face. 

"There are some points about that document, Lestrade, are there not?"said he, pushing them over. 

The official looked at them with a puzzled expression. 

"I can read the first few lines and these in the middle of the secondpage, and one or two at the end. Those are as clear as print, " saidhe, "but the writing in between is very bad, and there are three placeswhere I cannot read it at all. "

"What do you make of that?" said Holmes. 

"Well, what do YOU make of it?"

"That it was written in a train. The good writing represents stations, the bad writing movement, and the very bad writing passing over points. A scientific expert would pronounce at once that this was drawn up on asuburban line, since nowhere save in the immediate vicinity of a greatcity could there be so quick a succession of points. Granting that hiswhole journey was occupied in drawing up the will, then the train was anexpress, only stopping once between Norwood and London Bridge. "

Lestrade began to laugh. 

"You are too many for me when you begin to get on your theories, Mr. Holmes, " said he. "How does this bear on the case?"

"Well, it corroborates the young man's story to the extent that thewill was drawn up by Jonas Oldacre in his journey yesterday. It iscurious--is it not?--that a man should draw up so important a documentin so haphazard a fashion. It suggests that he did not think it wasgoing to be of much practical importance. If a man drew up a will whichhe did not intend ever to be effective, he might do it so. "

"Well, he drew up his own death warrant at the same time, " saidLestrade. 

"Oh, you think so?"

"Don't you?"

"Well, it is quite possible, but the case is not clear to me yet. "

"Not clear? Well, if that isn't clear, what COULD be clear? Here is ayoung man who learns suddenly that, if a certain older man dies, he willsucceed to a fortune. What does he do? He says nothing to anyone, buthe arranges that he shall go out on some pretext to see his client thatnight. He waits until the only other person in the house is in bed, andthen in the solitude of a man's room he murders him, burns his body inthe wood-pile, and departs to a neighbouring hotel. The blood-stains inthe room and also on the stick are very slight. It is probable that heimagined his crime to be a bloodless one, and hoped that if thebody were consumed it would hide all traces of the method of hisdeath--traces which, for some reason, must have pointed to him. Is notall this obvious?"

"It strikes me, my good Lestrade, as being just a trifle too obvious, "said Holmes. "You do not add imagination to your other great qualities, but if you could for one moment put yourself in the place of this youngman, would you choose the very night after the will had been made tocommit your crime? Would it not seem dangerous to you to make so veryclose a relation between the two incidents? Again, would you choose anoccasion when you are known to be in the house, when a servant has letyou in? And, finally, would you take the great pains to conceal thebody, and yet leave your own stick as a sign that you were the criminal?Confess, Lestrade, that all this is very unlikely. "

"As to the stick, Mr. Holmes, you know as well as I do that a criminalis often flurried, and does such things, which a cool man would avoid. He was very likely afraid to go back to the room. Give me another theorythat would fit the facts. "

"I could very easily give you half a dozen, " said Holmes. "Here forexample, is a very possible and even probable one. I make you a freepresent of it. The older man is showing documents which are of evidentvalue. A passing tramp sees them through the window, the blind of whichis only half down. Exit the solicitor. Enter the tramp! He seizes astick, which he observes there, kills Oldacre, and departs after burningthe body. "

"Why should the tramp burn the body?"

"For the matter of that, why should McFarlane?"

"To hide some evidence. "

"Possibly the tramp wanted to hide that any murder at all had beencommitted. "

"And why did the tramp take nothing?"

"Because they were papers that he could not negotiate. "

Lestrade shook his head, though it seemed to me that his manner was lessabsolutely assured than before. 

"Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you may look for your tramp, and while youare finding him we will hold on to our man. The future will show whichis right. Just notice this point, Mr. Holmes: that so far as we know, none of the papers were removed, and that the prisoner is the one man inthe world who had no reason for removing them, since he was heir-at-law, and would come into them in any case. "

My friend seemed struck by this remark. 

"I don't mean to deny that the evidence is in some ways very stronglyin favour of your theory, " said he. "I only wish to point out thatthere are other theories possible. As you say, the future will decide. Good-morning! I dare say that in the course of the day I shall drop inat Norwood and see how you are getting on. "

When the detective departed, my friend rose and made his preparationsfor the day's work with the alert air of a man who has a congenial taskbefore him. 

"My first movement Watson, " said he, as he bustled into his frockcoat, "must, as I said, be in the direction of Blackheath. "

"And why not Norwood?"

"Because we have in this case one singular incident coming close to theheels of another singular incident. The police are making the mistake ofconcentrating their attention upon the second, because it happens tobe the one which is actually criminal. But it is evident to me that thelogical way to approach the case is to begin by trying to throw somelight upon the first incident--the curious will, so suddenly made, andto so unexpected an heir. It may do something to simplify what followed. No, my dear fellow, I don't think you can help me. There is no prospectof danger, or I should not dream of stirring out without you. I trustthat when I see you in the evening, I will be able to report that I havebeen able to do something for this unfortunate youngster, who has thrownhimself upon my protection. "

It was late when my friend returned, and I could see, by a glance at hishaggard and anxious face, that the high hopes with which he had startedhad not been fulfilled. For an hour he droned away upon his violin, endeavouring to soothe his own ruffled spirits. At last he flungdown the instrument, and plunged into a detailed account of hismisadventures. 

"It's all going wrong, Watson--all as wrong as it can go. I kept a boldface before Lestrade, but, upon my soul, I believe that for once thefellow is on the right track and we are on the wrong. All my instinctsare one way, and all the facts are the other, and I much fear thatBritish juries have not yet attained that pitch of intelligence whenthey will give the preference to my theories over Lestrade's facts. "

"Did you go to Blackheath?"

"Yes, Watson, I went there, and I found very quickly that the latelamented Oldacre was a pretty considerable blackguard. The father wasaway in search of his son. The mother was at home--a little, fluffy, blue-eyed person, in a tremor of fear and indignation. Of course, shewould not admit even the possibility of his guilt. But she would notexpress either surprise or regret over the fate of Oldacre. Onthe contrary, she spoke of him with such bitterness that she wasunconsciously considerably strengthening the case of the police for, ofcourse, if her son had heard her speak of the man in this fashion, itwould predispose him towards hatred and violence. 'He was more like amalignant and cunning ape than a human being, ' said she, 'and he alwayswas, ever since he was a young man. '

"'You knew him at that time?' said I. 

"'Yes, I knew him well, in fact, he was an old suitor of mine. Thankheaven that I had the sense to turn away from him and to marry abetter, if poorer, man. I was engaged to him, Mr. Holmes, when I heard ashocking story of how he had turned a cat loose in an aviary, and I wasso horrified at his brutal cruelty that I would have nothing more todo with him. ' She rummaged in a bureau, and presently she produced aphotograph of a woman, shamefully defaced and mutilated with a knife. 'That is my own photograph, ' she said. 'He sent it to me in that state, with his curse, upon my wedding morning. '

"'Well, ' said I, 'at least he has forgiven you now, since he has leftall his property to your son. '

"'Neither my son nor I want anything from Jonas Oldacre, dead or alive!'she cried, with a proper spirit. 'There is a God in heaven, Mr. Holmes, and that same God who has punished that wicked man will show, in His owngood time, that my son's hands are guiltless of his blood. '

"Well, I tried one or two leads, but could get at nothing which wouldhelp our hypothesis, and several points which would make against it. Igave it up at last and off I went to Norwood. 

"This place, Deep Dene House, is a big modern villa of staring brick, standing back in its own grounds, with a laurel-clumped lawn in frontof it. To the right and some distance back from the road was thetimber-yard which had been the scene of the fire. Here's a rough planon a leaf of my notebook. This window on the left is the one which opensinto Oldacre's room. You can look into it from the road, you see. Thatis about the only bit of consolation I have had to-day. Lestrade wasnot there, but his head constable did the honours. They had just found agreat treasure-trove. They had spent the morning raking among the ashesof the burned wood-pile, and besides the charred organic remains theyhad secured several discoloured metal discs. I examined them withcare, and there was no doubt that they were trouser buttons. I evendistinguished that one of them was marked with the name of 'Hyams, ' whowas Oldacres tailor. I then worked the lawn very carefully for signs andtraces, but this drought has made everything as hard as iron. Nothingwas to be seen save that some body or bundle had been dragged througha low privet hedge which is in a line with the wood-pile. All that, ofcourse, fits in with the official theory. I crawled about the lawn withan August sun on my back, but I got up at the end of an hour no wiserthan before. 

"Well, after this fiasco I went into the bedroom and examined that also. The blood-stains were very slight, mere smears and discolourations, butundoubtedly fresh. The stick had been removed, but there also the markswere slight. There is no doubt about the stick belonging to our client. He admits it. Footmarks of both men could be made out on the carpet, but none of any third person, which again is a trick for the otherside. They were piling up their score all the time and we were at astandstill. 

"Only one little gleam of hope did I get--and yet it amounted tonothing. I examined the contents of the safe, most of which had beentaken out and left on the table. The papers had been made up into sealedenvelopes, one or two of which had been opened by the police. They werenot, so far as I could judge, of any great value, nor did the bank-bookshow that Mr. Oldacre was in such very affluent circumstances. But itseemed to me that all the papers were not there. There were allusions tosome deeds--possibly the more valuable--which I could not find. This, ofcourse, if we could definitely prove it, would turn Lestrade's argumentagainst himself, for who would steal a thing if he knew that he wouldshortly inherit it?

"Finally, having drawn every other cover and picked up no scent, I triedmy luck with the housekeeper. Mrs. Lexington is her name--a little, dark, silent person, with suspicious and sidelong eyes. She could tellus something if she would--I am convinced of it. But she was as close aswax. Yes, she had let Mr. McFarlane in at half-past nine. She wishedher hand had withered before she had done so. She had gone to bed athalf-past ten. Her room was at the other end of the house, and she couldhear nothing of what had passed. Mr. McFarlane had left his hat, and tothe best of her had been awakened by the alarm of fire. Her poor, dearmaster had certainly been murdered. Had he any enemies? Well, every manhad enemies, but Mr. Oldacre kept himself very much to himself, and onlymet people in the way of business. She had seen the buttons, and wassure that they belonged to the clothes which he had worn last night. The wood-pile was very dry, for it had not rained for a month. It burnedlike tinder, and by the time she reached the spot, nothing could be seenbut flames. She and all the firemen smelled the burned flesh frominside it. She knew nothing of the papers, nor of Mr. Oldacre's privateaffairs. 

"So, my dear Watson, there's my report of a failure. And yet--and yet--"he clenched his thin hands in a paroxysm of conviction--"I KNOW it's allwrong. I feel it in my bones. There is something that has not come out, and that housekeeper knows it. There was a sort of sulky defiance in hereyes, which only goes with guilty knowledge. However, there's no goodtalking any more about it, Watson; but unless some lucky chance comesour way I fear that the Norwood Disappearance Case will not figure inthat chronicle of our successes which I foresee that a patient publicwill sooner or later have to endure. "

"Surely, " said I, "the man's appearance would go far with any jury?"

"That is a dangerous argument my dear Watson. You remember that terriblemurderer, Bert Stevens, who wanted us to get him off in '87? Was thereever a more mild-mannered, Sunday-school young man?"

"It is true. "

"Unless we succeed in establishing an alternative theory, this man islost. You can hardly find a flaw in the case which can now be presentedagainst him, and all further investigation has served to strengthen it. By the way, there is one curious little point about those papers whichmay serve us as the starting-point for an inquiry. On looking over thebank-book I found that the low state of the balance was principally dueto large checks which have been made out during the last year to Mr. Cornelius. I confess that I should be interested to know who thisMr. Cornelius may be with whom a retired builder has such very largetransactions. Is it possible that he has had a hand in the affair?Cornelius might be a broker, but we have found no scrip to correspondwith these large payments. Failing any other indication, my researchesmust now take the direction of an inquiry at the bank for the gentlemanwho has cashed these checks. But I fear, my dear fellow, that ourcase will end ingloriously by Lestrade hanging our client, which willcertainly be a triumph for Scotland Yard. "

I do not know how far Sherlock Holmes took any sleep that night, butwhen I came down to breakfast I found him pale and harassed, his brighteyes the brighter for the dark shadows round them. The carpet round hischair was littered with cigarette-ends and with the early editions ofthe morning papers. An open telegram lay upon the table. 

"What do you think of this, Watson?" he asked, tossing it across. 

It was from Norwood, and ran as follows:

Important fresh evidence to hand. McFarlane's guilt definitelyestablished. Advise you to abandon case. LESTRADE. 

"This sounds serious, " said I. 

"It is Lestrade's little cock-a-doodle of victory, " Holmes answered, with a bitter smile. "And yet it may be premature to abandon the case. After all, important fresh evidence is a two-edged thing, and maypossibly cut in a very different direction to that which Lestradeimagines. Take your breakfast, Watson, and we will go out together andsee what we can do. I feel as if I shall need your company and yourmoral support today. "

My friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his peculiaritiesthat in his more intense moments he would permit himself no food, and Ihave known him presume upon his iron strength until he has fainted frompure inanition. "At present I cannot spare energy and nerve force fordigestion, " he would say in answer to my medical remonstrances. I wasnot surprised, therefore, when this morning he left his untouchedmeal behind him, and started with me for Norwood. A crowd of morbidsightseers were still gathered round Deep Dene House, which was justsuch a suburban villa as I had pictured. Within the gates Lestrade metus, his face flushed with victory, his manner grossly triumphant. 

"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you proved us to be wrong yet? Have you foundyour tramp?" he cried. 

"I have formed no conclusion whatever, " my companion answered. 

"But we formed ours yesterday, and now it proves to be correct, so youmust acknowledge that we have been a little in front of you this time, Mr. Holmes. "

"You certainly have the air of something unusual having occurred, " saidHolmes. 

Lestrade laughed loudly. 

"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 convince youonce for all that it was John McFarlane who did this crime. "

He led us through the passage and out into a dark hall beyond. 

"This is where young McFarlane must have come out to get his hatafter the crime was done, " said he. "Now look at this. " With dramaticsuddenness he struck a match, and by its light exposed a stain of bloodupon the whitewashed wall. As he held the match nearer, I saw that itwas more than a stain. It was the well-marked print of a thumb. 

"Look at that with your magnifying glass, Mr. Holmes. "

"Yes, I am doing so. "

"You are aware that no two thumb-marks are alike?"

"I have heard something of the kind. "

"Well, then, will you please compare that print with this wax impressionof young McFarlane's right thumb, taken by my orders this morning?"

As he held the waxen print close to the blood-stain, it did not takea magnifying glass to see that the two were undoubtedly from the samethumb. It was evident to me that our unfortunate client was lost. 

"That is final, " said Lestrade. 

"Yes, that is final, " I involuntarily echoed. 

"It is final, " said Holmes. 

Something in his tone caught my ear, and I turned to look at him. Anextraordinary change had come over his face. It was writhing with inwardmerriment. His two eyes were shining like stars. It seemed to me thathe was making desperate efforts to restrain a convulsive attack oflaughter. 

"Dear me! Dear me!" he said at last. "Well, now, who would have thoughtit? And how deceptive appearances may be, to be sure! Such a nice youngman to look at! It is a lesson to us not to trust our own judgment, isit not, Lestrade?"

"Yes, some of us are a little too much inclined to be cock-sure, Mr. Holmes, " said Lestrade. The man's insolence was maddening, but we couldnot resent it. 

"What a providential thing that this young man should press his rightthumb against the wall in taking his hat from the peg! Such a verynatural action, too, if you come to think of it. " Holmes was outwardlycalm, but his whole body gave a wriggle of suppressed excitement as hespoke. 

"By the way, Lestrade, who made this remarkable discovery?"

"It was the housekeeper, Mrs. Lexington, who drew the night constable'sattention to it. "

"Where was the night constable?"

"He remained on guard in the bedroom where the crime was committed, soas to see that nothing was touched. "

"But why didn't the police see this mark yesterday?"

"Well, we had no particular reason to make a careful examination of thehall. Besides, it's not in a very prominent place, as you see. "

"No, no--of course not. I suppose there is no doubt that the mark wasthere yesterday?"

Lestrade looked at Holmes as if he thought he was going out of his mind. I confess that I was myself surprised both at his hilarious manner andat his rather wild observation. 

"I don't know whether you think that McFarlane came out of jail in thedead of the night in order to strengthen the evidence against himself, "said Lestrade. "I leave it to any expert in the world whether that isnot the mark of his thumb. "

"It is unquestionably the mark of his thumb. "

"There, that's enough, " said Lestrade. "I am a practical man, Mr. Holmes, and when I have got my evidence I come to my conclusions. Ifyou have anything to say, you will find me writing my report in thesitting-room. "

Holmes had recovered his equanimity, though I still seemed to detectgleams of amusement in his expression. 

"Dear me, this is a very sad development, Watson, is it not?" said he. "And yet there are singular points about it which hold out some hopesfor our client. "

"I am delighted to hear it, " said I, heartily. "I was afraid it was allup with him. "

"I would hardly go so far as to say that, my dear Watson. The fact isthat there is one really serious flaw in this evidence to which ourfriend attaches so much importance. "

"Indeed, Holmes! What is it?"

"Only this: that I KNOW that that mark was not there when I examined thehall yesterday. And now, Watson, let us have a little stroll round inthe sunshine. "

With a confused brain, but with a heart into which some warmth of hopewas returning, I accompanied my friend in a walk round the garden. Holmes took each face of the house in turn, and examined it with greatinterest. He then led the way inside, and went over the whole buildingfrom basement to attic. Most of the rooms were unfurnished, but none theless Holmes inspected them all minutely. Finally, on the top corridor, which ran outside three untenanted bedrooms, he again was seized with aspasm of merriment. 

"There are really some very unique features about this case, Watson, "said he. "I think it is time now that we took our friend Lestrade intoour confidence. He has had his little smile at our expense, and perhapswe may do as much by him, if my reading of this problem proves to becorrect. Yes, yes, I think I see how we should approach it. "

The Scotland Yard inspector was still writing in the parlour when Holmesinterrupted him. 

"I understood that you were writing a report of this case, " said he. 

"So I am. "

"Don't you think it may be a little premature? I can't help thinkingthat your evidence is not complete. "

Lestrade knew my friend too well to disregard his words. He laid downhis pen and looked curiously at him. 

"What do you mean, Mr. Holmes?"

"Only that there is an important witness whom you have not seen. "

"Can you produce him?"

"I think I can. "

"Then do so. "

"I will do my best. How many constables have you?"

"There are three within call. "

"Excellent!" said Holmes. "May I ask if they are all large, able-bodiedmen with powerful voices?"

"I have no doubt they are, though I fail to see what their voices haveto do with it. "

"Perhaps I can help you to see that and one or two other things aswell, " said Holmes. "Kindly summon your men, and I will try. "

Five minutes later, three policemen had assembled in the hall. 

"In the outhouse you will find a considerable quantity of straw, " saidHolmes. "I will ask you to carry in two bundles of it. I think it willbe of the greatest assistance in producing the witness whom I require. Thank you very much. I believe you have some matches in your pocketWatson. Now, Mr. Lestrade, I will ask you all to accompany me to the toplanding. "

As I have said, there was a broad corridor there, which ran outsidethree empty bedrooms. At one end of the corridor we were all marshalledby Sherlock Holmes, the constables grinning and Lestrade staring atmy friend with amazement, expectation, and derision chasing each otheracross his features. Holmes stood before us with the air of a conjurerwho is performing a trick. 

"Would you kindly send one of your constables for two buckets of water?Put the straw on the floor here, free from the wall on either side. NowI think that we are all ready. "

Lestrade's face had begun to grow red and angry. "I don't know whetheryou are playing a game with us, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, " said he. "If youknow anything, you can surely say it without all this tomfoolery. "

"I assure you, my good Lestrade, that I have an excellent reason foreverything that I do. You may possibly remember that you chaffed me alittle, some hours ago, when the sun seemed on your side of the hedge, so you must not grudge me a little pomp and ceremony now. Might I askyou, Watson, to open that window, and then to put a match to the edge ofthe straw?"

I did so, and driven by the draught a coil of gray smoke swirled downthe corridor, while the dry straw crackled and flamed. 

"Now we must see if we can find this witness for you, Lestrade. MightI ask you all to join in the cry of 'Fire!'? Now then; one, two, three----"

"Fire!" we all yelled. 

"Thank you. I will trouble you once again. "

"Fire!"

"Just once more, gentlemen, and all together. "

"Fire!" The shout must have rung over Norwood. 

It had hardly died away when an amazing thing happened. A door suddenlyflew open out of what appeared to be solid wall at the end of thecorridor, and a little, wizened man darted out of it, like a rabbit outof its burrow. 

"Capital!" said Holmes, calmly. "Watson, a bucket of water over thestraw. That will do! Lestrade, allow me to present you with yourprincipal missing witness, Mr. Jonas Oldacre. "

The detective stared at the newcomer with blank amazement. The latterwas blinking in the bright light of the corridor, and peering at usand at the smouldering fire. It was an odious face--crafty, vicious, malignant, with shifty, light-gray eyes and white lashes. 

"What's this, then?" said Lestrade, at last. "What have you been doingall this time, eh?"

Oldacre gave an uneasy laugh, shrinking back from the furious red faceof the angry detective. 

"I have done no harm. "

"No harm? You have done your best to get an innocent man hanged. If itwasn't for this gentleman here, I am not sure that you would not havesucceeded. "

The wretched creature began to whimper. 

"I am sure, sir, it was only my practical joke. "

"Oh! a joke, was it? You won't find the laugh on your side, I promiseyou. Take him down, and keep him in the sitting-room until I come. Mr. Holmes, " he continued, when they had gone, "I could not speak before theconstables, but I don't mind saying, in the presence of Dr. Watson, that this is the brightest thing that you have done yet, though it is amystery to me how you did it. You have saved an innocent man's life, and you have prevented a very grave scandal, which would have ruined myreputation in the Force. "

Holmes smiled, and clapped Lestrade upon the shoulder. 

"Instead of being ruined, my good sir, you will find that yourreputation has been enormously enhanced. Just make a few alterations inthat report which you were writing, and they will understand how hard itis to throw dust in the eyes of Inspector Lestrade. "

"And you don't want your name to appear?"

"Not at all. The work is its own reward. Perhaps I shall get the creditalso at some distant day, when I permit my zealous historian to lay outhis foolscap once more--eh, Watson? Well, now, let us see where this rathas been lurking. "

A lath-and-plaster partition had been run across the passage six feetfrom the end, with a door cunningly concealed in it. It was lit withinby slits under the eaves. A few articles of furniture and a supply offood and water were within, together with a number of books and papers. 

"There's the advantage of being a builder, " said Holmes, as we cameout. "He was able to fix up his own little hiding-place without anyconfederate--save, of course, that precious housekeeper of his, whom Ishould lose no time in adding to your bag, Lestrade. "

"I'll take your advice. But how did you know of this place, Mr. Holmes?"

"I made up my mind that the fellow was in hiding in the house. When Ipaced one corridor and found it six feet shorter than the correspondingone below, it was pretty clear where he was. I thought he had not thenerve to lie quiet before an alarm of fire. We could, of course, havegone in and taken him, but it amused me to make him reveal himself. Besides, I owed you a little mystification, Lestrade, for your chaff inthe morning. "

"Well, sir, you certainly got equal with me on that. But how in theworld did you know that he was in the house at all?"

"The thumb-mark, Lestrade. You said it was final; and so it was, in avery different sense. I knew it had not been there the day before. I paya good deal of attention to matters of detail, as you may have observed, and I had examined the hall, and was sure that the wall was clear. Therefore, it had been put on during the night. "

"But how?"

"Very simply. When those packets were sealed up, Jonas Oldacre gotMcFarlane to secure one of the seals by putting his thumb upon the softwax. It would be done so quickly and so naturally, that I daresay theyoung man himself has no recollection of it. Very likely it just sohappened, and Oldacre had himself no notion of the use he would put itto. Brooding over the case in that den of his, it suddenly struck himwhat absolutely damning evidence he could make against McFarlane byusing that thumb-mark. It was the simplest thing in the world for him totake a wax impression from the seal, to moisten it in as much blood ashe could get from a pin-prick, and to put the mark upon the wall duringthe night, either with his own hand or with that of his housekeeper. If you examine among those documents which he took with him intohis retreat, I will lay you a wager that you find the seal with thethumb-mark upon it. "

"Wonderful!" said Lestrade. "Wonderful! It's all as clear as crystal, asyou put it. But what is the object of this deep deception, Mr. Holmes?"

It was amusing to me to see how the detective's overbearing manner hadchanged suddenly to that of a child asking questions of its teacher. 

"Well, I don't think that is very hard to explain. A very deep, malicious, vindictive person is the gentleman who is now waiting usdownstairs. You know that he was once refused by McFarlane's mother?You don't! I told you that you should go to Blackheath first and Norwoodafterwards. Well, this injury, as he would consider it, has rankledin his wicked, scheming brain, and all his life he has longed forvengeance, but never seen his chance. During the last year or two, things have gone against him--secret speculation, I think--and he findshimself in a bad way. He determines to swindle his creditors, and forthis purpose he pays large checks to a certain Mr. Cornelius, who is, Iimagine, himself under another name. I have not traced these checksyet, but I have no doubt that they were banked under that name at someprovincial town where Oldacre from time to time led a double existence. He intended to change his name altogether, draw this money, and vanish, starting life again elsewhere. "

"Well, that's likely enough. "

"It would strike him that in disappearing he might throw all pursuit offhis track, and at the same time have an ample and crushing revenge uponhis old sweetheart, if he could give the impression that he had beenmurdered by her only child. It was a masterpiece of villainy, and hecarried it out like a master. The idea of the will, which would givean obvious motive for the crime, the secret visit unknown to his ownparents, the retention of the stick, the blood, and the animal remainsand buttons in the wood-pile, all were admirable. It was a net fromwhich it seemed to me, a few hours ago, that there was no possibleescape. But he had not that supreme gift of the artist, the knowledgeof when to stop. He wished to improve that which was already perfect--todraw the rope tighter yet round the neck of his unfortunate victim--andso he ruined all. Let us descend, Lestrade. There are just one or twoquestions that I would ask him. "

The malignant creature was seated in his own parlour, with a policemanupon each side of him. 

"It was a joke, my good sir--a practical joke, nothing more, " he whinedincessantly. "I assure you, sir, that I simply concealed myself in orderto see the effect of my disappearance, and I am sure that you would notbe so unjust as to imagine that I would have allowed any harm to befallpoor young Mr. McFarlane. "

"That's for a jury to decide, " said Lestrade. "Anyhow, we shall have youon a charge of conspiracy, if not for attempted murder. "

"And you'll probably find that your creditors will impound the bankingaccount of Mr. Cornelius, " said Holmes. 

The little man started, and turned his malignant eyes upon my friend. 

"I have to thank you for a good deal, " said he. "Perhaps I'll pay mydebt some day. "

Holmes smiled indulgently. 

"I fancy that, for some few years, you will find your time very fullyoccupied, " said he. "By the way, what was it you put into the wood-pilebesides your old trousers? A dead dog, or rabbits, or what? You won'ttell? Dear me, how very unkind of you! Well, well, I daresay that acouple of rabbits would account both for the blood and for the charredashes. If ever you write an account, Watson, you can make rabbits serveyour turn. "

THE ADVENTURE OF THE DANCING MEN

Holmes had been seated for some hours in silence with his long, thin back curved over a chemical vessel in which he was brewing aparticularly malodorous product. His head was sunk upon his breast, andhe looked from my point of view like a strange, lank bird, with dullgray plumage and a black top-knot. 

"So, Watson, " said he, suddenly, "you do not propose to invest in SouthAfrican securities?"

I gave a start of astonishment. Accustomed as I was to Holmes's curiousfaculties, this sudden intrusion into my most intimate thoughts wasutterly inexplicable. 

"How on earth do you know that?" I asked. 

He wheeled round upon his stool, with a steaming test-tube in his hand, and a gleam of amusement in his deep-set eyes. 

"Now, Watson, confess yourself utterly taken aback, " said he. 

"I am. "

"I ought to make you sign a paper to that effect. "

"Why?"

"Because in five minutes you will say that it is all so absurdlysimple. "

"I am sure that I shall say nothing of the kind. "

"You see, my dear Watson, "--he propped his test-tube in the rack, andbegan to lecture with the air of a professor addressing his class--"itis not really difficult to construct a series of inferences, eachdependent upon its predecessor and each simple in itself. If, afterdoing so, one simply knocks out all the central inferences and presentsone's audience with the starting-point and the conclusion, one mayproduce a startling, though possibly a meretricious, effect. Now, it wasnot really difficult, by an inspection of the groove between your leftforefinger and thumb, to feel sure that you did NOT propose to investyour small capital in the gold fields. "

"I see no connection. "

"Very likely not; but I can quickly show you a close connection. Hereare the missing links of the very simple chain: 1. You had chalk betweenyour left finger and thumb when you returned from the club last night. 2. You put chalk there when you play billiards, to steady the cue. 3. You never play billiards except with Thurston. 4. You told me, fourweeks ago, that Thurston had an option on some South African propertywhich would expire in a month, and which he desired you to share withhim. 5. Your check book is locked in my drawer, and you have not askedfor the key. 6. You do not propose to invest your money in this manner. "

"How absurdly simple!" I cried. 

"Quite so!" said he, a little nettled. "Every problem becomes verychildish when once it is explained to you. Here is an unexplained one. See what you can make of that, friend Watson. " He tossed a sheet ofpaper upon the table, and turned once more to his chemical analysis. 

I looked with amazement at the absurd hieroglyphics upon the paper. 

"Why, Holmes, it is a child's drawing, " I cried. 

"Oh, that's your idea!"

"What else should it be?"

"That is what Mr. Hilton Cubitt, of Riding Thorpe Manor, Norfolk, isvery anxious to know. This little conundrum came by the first post, andhe was to follow by the next train. There's a ring at the bell, Watson. I should not be very much surprised if this were he. "

A heavy step was heard upon the stairs, and an instant later thereentered a tall, ruddy, clean-shaven gentleman, whose clear eyes andflorid cheeks told of a life led far from the fogs of Baker Street. Heseemed to bring a whiff of his strong, fresh, bracing, east-coast airwith him as he entered. Having shaken hands with each of us, he wasabout to sit down, when his eye rested upon the paper with the curiousmarkings, which I had just examined and left upon the table. 

"Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of these?" he cried. "They told methat you were fond of queer mysteries, and I don't think you can find aqueerer one than that. I sent the paper on ahead, so that you might havetime to study it before I came. "

"It is certainly rather a curious production, " said Holmes. "At firstsight it would appear to be some childish prank. It consists of a numberof absurd little figures dancing across the paper upon which theyare drawn. Why should you attribute any importance to so grotesque anobject?"

"I never should, Mr. Holmes. But my wife does. It is frightening her todeath. She says nothing, but I can see terror in her eyes. That's why Iwant to sift the matter to the bottom. "

Holmes held up the paper so that the sunlight shone full upon it. It wasa page torn from a notebook. The markings were done in pencil, and ranin this way:

GRAPHIC

Holmes examined it for some time, and then, folding it carefully up, heplaced it in his pocketbook. 

"This promises to be a most interesting and unusual case, " said he. "You gave me a few particulars in your letter, Mr. Hilton Cubitt, but Ishould be very much obliged if you would kindly go over it all again forthe benefit of my friend, Dr. Watson. "

"I'm not much of a story-teller, " said our visitor, nervously claspingand unclasping his great, strong hands. "You'll just ask me anythingthat I don't make clear. I'll begin at the time of my marriage lastyear, but I want to say first of all that, though I'm not a rich man, my people have been at Riding Thorpe for a matter of five centuries, andthere is no better known family in the County of Norfolk. Last year Icame up to London for the Jubilee, and I stopped at a boarding-house inRussell Square, because Parker, the vicar of our parish, was staying init. There was an American young lady there--Patrick was the name--ElsiePatrick. In some way we became friends, until before my month was upI was as much in love as man could be. We were quietly married at aregistry office, and we returned to Norfolk a wedded couple. You'llthink it very mad, Mr. Holmes, that a man of a good old family shouldmarry a wife in this fashion, knowing nothing of her past or ofher people, but if you saw her and knew her, it would help you tounderstand. 

"She was very straight about it, was Elsie. I can't say that she did notgive me every chance of getting out of it if I wished to do so. 'I havehad some very disagreeable associations in my life, ' said she, 'I wishto forget all about them. I would rather never allude to the past, forit is very painful to me. If you take me, Hilton, you will take a womanwho has nothing that she need be personally ashamed of, but you willhave to be content with my word for it, and to allow me to be silentas to all that passed up to the time when I became yours. If theseconditions are too hard, then go back to Norfolk, and leave me to thelonely life in which you found me. ' It was only the day before ourwedding that she said those very words to me. I told her that I wascontent to take her on her own terms, and I have been as good as myword. 

"Well we have been married now for a year, and very happy we have been. But about a month ago, at the end of June, I saw for the first timesigns of trouble. One day my wife received a letter from America. I sawthe American stamp. She turned deadly white, read the letter, and threwit into the fire. She made no allusion to it afterwards, and I madenone, for a promise is a promise, but she has never known an easy hourfrom that moment. There is always a look of fear upon her face--a lookas if she were waiting and expecting. She would do better to trust me. She would find that I was her best friend. But until she speaks, I cansay nothing. Mind you, she is a truthful woman, Mr. Holmes, and whatevertrouble there may have been in her past life it has been no fault ofhers. I am only a simple Norfolk squire, but there is not a man inEngland who ranks his family honour more highly than I do. She knows itwell, and she knew it well before she married me. She would never bringany stain upon it--of that I am sure. 

"Well, now I come to the queer part of my story. About a week ago--itwas the Tuesday of last week--I found on one of the window-sills anumber of absurd little dancing figures like these upon the paper. Theywere scrawled with chalk. I thought that it was the stable-boy who haddrawn them, but the lad swore he knew nothing about it. Anyhow, they hadcome there during the night. I had them washed out, and I only mentionedthe matter to my wife afterwards. To my surprise, she took it veryseriously, and begged me if any more came to let her see them. None didcome for a week, and then yesterday morning I found this paper lying onthe sundial in the garden. I showed it to Elsie, and down she droppedin a dead faint. Since then she has looked like a woman in a dream, halfdazed, and with terror always lurking in her eyes. It was then that Iwrote and sent the paper to you, Mr. Holmes. It was not a thing thatI could take to the police, for they would have laughed at me, but youwill tell me what to do. I am not a rich man, but if there is any dangerthreatening my little woman, I would spend my last copper to shieldher. "

He was a fine creature, this man of the old English soil--simple, straight, and gentle, with his great, earnest blue eyes and broad, comely face. His love for his wife and his trust in her shone in hisfeatures. Holmes had listened to his story with the utmost attention, and now he sat for some time in silent thought. 

"Don't you think, Mr. Cubitt, " said he, at last, "that your best planwould be to make a direct appeal to your wife, and to ask her to shareher secret with you?"

Hilton Cubitt shook his massive head. 

"A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wished to tell me shewould. If not, it is not for me to force her confidence. But I amjustified in taking my own line--and I will. "

"Then I will help you with all my heart. In the first place, have youheard of any strangers being seen in your neighbourhood?"

"No. "

"I presume that it is a very quiet place. Any fresh face would causecomment?"

"In the immediate neighbourhood, yes. But we have several smallwatering-places not very far away. And the farmers take in lodgers. "

"These hieroglyphics have evidently a meaning. If it is a purelyarbitrary one, it may be impossible for us to solve it. If, on the otherhand, it is systematic, I have no doubt that we shall get to the bottomof it. But this particular sample is so short that I can do nothing, andthe facts which you have brought me are so indefinite that we have nobasis for an investigation. I would suggest that you return to Norfolk, that you keep a keen lookout, and that you take an exact copy of anyfresh dancing men which may appear. It is a thousand pities that wehave not a reproduction of those which were done in chalk upon thewindow-sill. Make a discreet inquiry also as to any strangers in theneighbourhood. When you have collected some fresh evidence, come to meagain. That is the best advice which I can give you, Mr. Hilton Cubitt. If there are any pressing fresh developments, I shall be always ready torun down and see you in your Norfolk home. "

The interview left Sherlock Holmes very thoughtful, and several times inthe next few days I saw him take his slip of paper from his notebookand look long and earnestly at the curious figures inscribed upon it. Hemade no allusion to the affair, however, until one afternoon a fortnightor so later. I was going out when he called me back. 

"You had better stay here, Watson. "

"Why?"

"Because I had a wire from Hilton Cubitt this morning. You rememberHilton Cubitt, of the dancing men? He was to reach Liverpool Street atone-twenty. He may be here at any moment. I gather from his wire thatthere have been some new incidents of importance. "

We had not long to wait, for our Norfolk squire came straight from thestation as fast as a hansom could bring him. He was looking worried anddepressed, with tired eyes and a lined forehead. 

"It's getting on my nerves, this business, Mr. Holmes, " said he, as hesank, like a wearied man, into an armchair. "It's bad enough to feelthat you are surrounded by unseen, unknown folk, who have some kind ofdesign upon you, but when, in addition to that, you know that it is justkilling your wife by inches, then it becomes as much as flesh and bloodcan endure. She's wearing away under it--just wearing away before myeyes. "

"Has she said anything yet?"

"No, Mr. Holmes, she has not. And yet there have been times when thepoor girl has wanted to speak, and yet could not quite bring herselfto take the plunge. I have tried to help her, but I daresay I did itclumsily, and scared her from it. She has spoken about my old family, and our reputation in the county, and our pride in our unsullied honour, and I always felt it was leading to the point, but somehow it turned offbefore we got there. "

"But you have found out something for yourself?"

"A good deal, Mr. Holmes. I have several fresh dancing-men pictures foryou to examine, and, what is more important, I have seen the fellow. "

"What, the man who draws them?"

"Yes, I saw him at his work. But I will tell you everything in order. When I got back after my visit to you, the very first thing I saw nextmorning was a fresh crop of dancing men. They had been drawn in chalkupon the black wooden door of the tool-house, which stands beside thelawn in full view of the front windows. I took an exact copy, and hereit is. " He unfolded a paper and laid it upon the table. Here is a copyof the hieroglyphics:

GRAPHIC

"Excellent!" said Holmes. "Excellent! Pray continue. "

"When I had taken the copy, I rubbed out the marks, but, two morningslater, a fresh inscription had appeared. I have a copy of it here:"

GRAPHIC

Holmes rubbed his hands and chuckled with delight. 

"Our material is rapidly accumulating, " said he. 

"Three days later a message was left scrawled upon paper, and placedunder a pebble upon the sundial. Here it is. The characters are, as yousee, exactly the same as the last one. After that I determined to lie inwait, so I got out my revolver and I sat up in my study, which overlooksthe lawn and garden. About two in the morning I was seated by thewindow, all being dark save for the moonlight outside, when I heardsteps behind me, and there was my wife in her dressing-gown. Sheimplored me to come to bed. I told her frankly that I wished to see whoit was who played such absurd tricks upon us. She answered that it wassome senseless practical joke, and that I should not take any notice ofit. 

"'If it really annoys you, Hilton, we might go and travel, you and I, and so avoid this nuisance. '

"'What, be driven out of our own house by a practical joker?' said I. 'Why, we should have the whole county laughing at us. '

"'Well, come to bed, ' said she, 'and we can discuss it in the morning. '

"Suddenly, as she spoke, I saw her white face grow whiter yet in themoonlight, and her hand tightened upon my shoulder. Something was movingin the shadow of the tool-house. I saw a dark, creeping figure whichcrawled round the corner and squatted in front of the door. Seizing mypistol, I was rushing out, when my wife threw her arms round me and heldme with convulsive strength. I tried to throw her off, but she clung tome most desperately. At last I got clear, but by the time I had openedthe door and reached the house the creature was gone. He had left atrace of his presence, however, for there on the door was the very samearrangement of dancing men which had already twice appeared, and whichI have copied on that paper. There was no other sign of the fellowanywhere, though I ran all over the grounds. And yet the amazing thingis that he must have been there all the time, for when I examined thedoor again in the morning, he had scrawled some more of his picturesunder the line which I had already seen. "

"Have you that fresh drawing?"

"Yes, it is very short, but I made a copy of it, and here it is. "

Again he produced a paper. The new dance was in this form:

GRAPHIC

"Tell me, " said Holmes--and I could see by his eyes that he was muchexcited--"was this a mere addition to the first or did it appear to beentirely separate?"

"It was on a different panel of the door. "

"Excellent! This is far the most important of all for our purpose. Itfills me with hopes. Now, Mr. Hilton Cubitt, please continue your mostinteresting statement. "

"I have nothing more to say, Mr. Holmes, except that I was angry withmy wife that night for having held me back when I might have caught theskulking rascal. She said that she feared that I might come to harm. Foran instant it had crossed my mind that perhaps what she really fearedwas that HE might come to harm, for I could not doubt that she knew whothis man was, and what he meant by these strange signals. But there is atone in my wife's voice, Mr. Holmes, and a look in her eyes which forbiddoubt, and I am sure that it was indeed my own safety that was in hermind. There's the whole case, and now I want your advice as to what Iought to do. My own inclination is to put half a dozen of my farm ladsin the shrubbery, and when this fellow comes again to give him such ahiding that he will leave us in peace for the future. "

"I fear it is too deep a case for such simple remedies, " said Holmes. "How long can you stay in London?"

"I must go back to-day. I would not leave my wife alone all night foranything. She is very nervous, and begged me to come back. "

"I daresay you are right. But if you could have stopped, I mightpossibly have been able to return with you in a day or two. Meanwhileyou will leave me these papers, and I think that it is very likely thatI shall be able to pay you a visit shortly and to throw some light uponyour case. "

Sherlock Holmes preserved his calm professional manner until our visitorhad left us, although it was easy for me, who knew him so well, to seethat he was profoundly excited. The moment that Hilton Cubitt's broadback had disappeared through the door my comrade rushed to the table, laid out all the slips of paper containing dancing men in front of him, and threw himself into an intricate and elaborate calculation. Fortwo hours I watched him as he covered sheet after sheet of paper withfigures and letters, so completely absorbed in his task that he hadevidently forgotten my presence. Sometimes he was making progress andwhistled and sang at his work; sometimes he was puzzled, and would sitfor long spells with a furrowed brow and a vacant eye. Finally he sprangfrom his chair with a cry of satisfaction, and walked up and down theroom rubbing his hands together. Then he wrote a long telegram upon acable form. "If my answer to this is as I hope, you will have a verypretty case to add to your collection, Watson, " said he. "I expect thatwe shall be able to go down to Norfolk tomorrow, and to take our friendsome very definite news as to the secret of his annoyance. "

I confess that I was filled with curiosity, but I was aware that Holmesliked to make his disclosures at his own time and in his own way, so Iwaited until it should suit him to take me into his confidence. 

But there was a delay in that answering telegram, and two days ofimpatience followed, during which Holmes pricked up his ears at everyring of the bell. On the evening of the second there came a letter fromHilton Cubitt. All was quiet with him, save that a long inscription hadappeared that morning upon the pedestal of the sundial. He inclosed acopy of it, which is here reproduced:

GRAPHIC

Holmes bent over this grotesque frieze for some minutes, and thensuddenly sprang to his feet with an exclamation of surprise and dismay. His face was haggard with anxiety. 

"We have let this affair go far enough, " said he. "Is there a train toNorth Walsham to-night?"

I turned up the time-table. The last had just gone. 

"Then we shall breakfast early and take the very first in the morning, "said Holmes. "Our presence is most urgently needed. Ah! here is ourexpected cablegram. One moment, Mrs. Hudson, there may be an answer. No, that is quite as I expected. This message makes it even more essentialthat we should not lose an hour in letting Hilton Cubitt know howmatters stand, for it is a singular and a dangerous web in which oursimple Norfolk squire is entangled. "

So, indeed, it proved, and as I come to the dark conclusion of a storywhich had seemed to me to be only childish and bizarre, I experienceonce again the dismay and horror with which I was filled. Would that Ihad some brighter ending to communicate to my readers, but these are thechronicles of fact, and I must follow to their dark crisis the strangechain of events which for some days made Riding Thorpe Manor a householdword through the length and breadth of England. 

We had hardly alighted at North Walsham, and mentioned the name of ourdestination, when the station-master hurried towards us. "I suppose thatyou are the detectives from London?" said he. 

A look of annoyance passed over Holmes's face. 

"What makes you think such a thing?"

"Because Inspector Martin from Norwich has just passed through. Butmaybe you are the surgeons. She's not dead--or wasn't by last accounts. You may be in time to save her yet--though it be for the gallows. "

Holmes's brow was dark with anxiety. 

"We are going to Riding Thorpe Manor, " said he, "but we have heardnothing of what has passed there. "

"It's a terrible business, " said the stationmaster. "They are shot, bothMr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife. She shot him and then herself--so theservants say. He's dead and her life is despaired of. Dear, dear, oneof the oldest families in the county of Norfolk, and one of the mosthonoured. "

Without a word Holmes hurried to a carriage, and during the long sevenmiles' drive he never opened his mouth. Seldom have I seen him soutterly despondent. He had been uneasy during all our journey fromtown, and I had observed that he had turned over the morning papers withanxious attention, but now this sudden realization of his worst fearsleft him in a blank melancholy. He leaned back in his seat, lost ingloomy speculation. Yet there was much around to interest us, for wewere passing through as singular a countryside as any in England, wherea few scattered cottages represented the population of to-day, while onevery hand enormous square-towered churches bristled up from the flatgreen landscape and told of the glory and prosperity of old East Anglia. At last the violet rim of the German Ocean appeared over the green edgeof the Norfolk coast, and the driver pointed with his whip to two oldbrick and timber gables which projected from a grove of trees. "That'sRiding Thorpe Manor, " said he. 

As we drove up to the porticoed front door, I observed in front of it, beside the tennis lawn, the black tool-house and the pedestalled sundialwith which we had such strange associations. A dapper little man, witha quick, alert manner and a waxed moustache, had just descended from ahigh dog-cart. He introduced himself as Inspector Martin, of the NorfolkConstabulary, and he was considerably astonished when he heard the nameof my companion. 

"Why, Mr. Holmes, the crime was only committed at three this morning. How could you hear of it in London and get to the spot as soon as I?"

"I anticipated it. I came in the hope of preventing it. "

"Then you must have important evidence, of which we are ignorant, forthey were said to be a most united couple. "

"I have only the evidence of the dancing men, " said Holmes. "I willexplain the matter to you later. Meanwhile, since it is too late toprevent this tragedy, I am very anxious that I should use the knowledgewhich I possess in order to insure that justice be done. Will youassociate me in your investigation, or will you prefer that I should actindependently?"

"I should be proud to feel that we were acting together, Mr. Holmes, "said the inspector, earnestly. 

"In that case I should be glad to hear the evidence and to examine thepremises without an instant of unnecessary delay. "

Inspector Martin had the good sense to allow my friend to do thingsin his own fashion, and contented himself with carefully noting theresults. The local surgeon, an old, white-haired man, had just come downfrom Mrs. Hilton Cubitt's room, and he reported that her injuries wereserious, but not necessarily fatal. The bullet had passed through thefront of her brain, and it would probably be some time before she couldregain consciousness. On the question of whether she had been shot orhad shot herself, he would not venture to express any decided opinion. Certainly the bullet had been discharged at very close quarters. Therewas only the one pistol found in the room, two barrels of which hadbeen emptied. Mr. Hilton Cubitt had been shot through the heart. It wasequally conceivable that he had shot her and then himself, or thatshe had been the criminal, for the revolver lay upon the floor midwaybetween them. 

"Has he been moved?" asked Holmes. 

"We have moved nothing except the lady. We could not leave her lyingwounded upon the floor. "

"How long have you been here, Doctor?"

"Since four o'clock. "

"Anyone else?"

"Yes, the constable here. "

"And you have touched nothing?"

"Nothing. "

"You have acted with great discretion. Who sent for you?"

"The housemaid, Saunders. "

"Was it she who gave the alarm?"

"She and Mrs. King, the cook. "

"Where are they now?"

"In the kitchen, I believe. "

"Then I think we had better hear their story at once. "

The old hall, oak-panelled and high-windowed, had been turned into acourt of investigation. Holmes sat in a great, old-fashioned chair, hisinexorable eyes gleaming out of his haggard face. I could read in thema set purpose to devote his life to this quest until the client whom hehad failed to save should at last be avenged. The trim Inspector Martin, the old, gray-headed country doctor, myself, and a stolid villagepoliceman made up the rest of that strange company. 

The two women told their story clearly enough. They had been arousedfrom their sleep by the sound of an explosion, which had been followeda minute later by a second one. They slept in adjoining rooms, and Mrs. King had rushed in to Saunders. Together they had descended the stairs. The door of the study was open, and a candle was burning upon the table. Their master lay upon his face in the centre of the room. He was quitedead. Near the window his wife was crouching, her head leaning againstthe wall. She was horribly wounded, and the side of her face was redwith blood. She breathed heavily, but was incapable of saying anything. The passage, as well as the room, was full of smoke and the smell ofpowder. The window was certainly shut and fastened upon the inside. Bothwomen were positive upon the point. They had at once sent for thedoctor and for the constable. Then, with the aid of the groom and thestable-boy, they had conveyed their injured mistress to her room. Bothshe and her husband had occupied the bed. She was clad in her dress--hein his dressing-gown, over his night-clothes. Nothing had been moved inthe study. So far as they knew, there had never been any quarrel betweenhusband and wife. They had always looked upon them as a very unitedcouple. 

These were the main points of the servants' evidence. In answer toInspector Martin, they were clear that every door was fastened upon theinside, and that no one could have escaped from the house. In answer toHolmes, they both remembered that they were conscious of the smell ofpowder from the moment that they ran out of their rooms upon the topfloor. "I commend that fact very carefully to your attention, " saidHolmes to his professional colleague. "And now I think that we are in aposition to undertake a thorough examination of the room. "

The study proved to be a small chamber, lined on three sides with books, and with a writing-table facing an ordinary window, which looked outupon the garden. Our first attention was given to the body of theunfortunate squire, whose huge frame lay stretched across the room. Hisdisordered dress showed that he had been hastily aroused from sleep. The bullet had been fired at him from the front, and had remained inhis body, after penetrating the heart. His death had certainly beeninstantaneous and painless. There was no powder-marking either upon hisdressing-gown or on his hands. According to the country surgeon, thelady had stains upon her face, but none upon her hand. 

"The absence of the latter means nothing, though its presence maymean everything, " said Holmes. "Unless the powder from a badly fittingcartridge happens to spurt backward, one may fire many shots withoutleaving a sign. I would suggest that Mr. Cubitt's body may now beremoved. I suppose, Doctor, you have not recovered the bullet whichwounded the lady?"

"A serious operation will be necessary before that can be done. Butthere are still four cartridges in the revolver. Two have been fired andtwo wounds inflicted, so that each bullet can be accounted for. "

"So it would seem, " said Holmes. "Perhaps you can account also for thebullet which has so obviously struck the edge of the window?"

He had turned suddenly, and his long, thin finger was pointing to a holewhich had been drilled right through the lower window-sash, about aninch above the bottom. 

"By George!" cried the inspector. "How ever did you see that?"

"Because I looked for it. "

"Wonderful!" said the country doctor. "You are certainly right, sir. Then a third shot has been fired, and therefore a third person must havebeen present. But who could that have been, and how could he have gotaway?"

"That is the problem which we are now about to solve, " said SherlockHolmes. "You remember, Inspector Martin, when the servants said that onleaving their room they were at once conscious of a smell of powder, Iremarked that the point was an extremely important one?"

"Yes, sir; but I confess I did not quite follow you. "

"It suggested that at the time of the firing, the window as well as thedoor of the room had been open. Otherwise the fumes of powder could nothave been blown so rapidly through the house. A draught in the room wasnecessary for that. Both door and window were only open for a very shorttime, however. "

"How do you prove that?"

"Because the candle was not guttered. "

"Capital!" cried the inspector. "Capital!

"Feeling sure that the window had been open at the time of the tragedy, I conceived that there might have been a third person in the affair, whostood outside this opening and fired through it. Any shot directed atthis person might hit the sash. I looked, and there, sure enough, wasthe bullet mark!"

"But how came the window to be shut and fastened?"

"The woman's first instinct would be to shut and fasten the window. But, halloa! What is this?"

It was a lady's hand-bag which stood upon the study table--a trim littlehandbag of crocodile-skin and silver. Holmes opened it and turnedthe contents out. There were twenty fifty-pound notes of the Bank ofEngland, held together by an india-rubber band--nothing else. 

"This must be preserved, for it will figure in the trial, " said Holmes, as he handed the bag with its contents to the inspector. "It is nownecessary that we should try to throw some light upon this third bullet, which has clearly, from the splintering of the wood, been fired frominside the room. I should like to see Mrs. King, the cook, again. Yousaid, Mrs. King, that you were awakened by a LOUD explosion. When yousaid that, did you mean that it seemed to you to be louder than thesecond one?"

"Well, sir, it wakened me from my sleep, so it is hard to judge. But itdid seem very loud. "

"You don't think that it might have been two shots fired almost at thesame instant?"

"I am sure I couldn't say, sir. "

"I believe that it was undoubtedly so. I rather think, Inspector Martin, that we have now exhausted all that this room can teach us. If you willkindly step round with me, we shall see what fresh evidence the gardenhas to offer. "

A flower-bed extended up to the study window, and we all broke into anexclamation as we approached it. The flowers were trampled down, and thesoft soil was imprinted all over with footmarks. Large, masculine feetthey were, with peculiarly long, sharp toes. Holmes hunted about amongthe grass and leaves like a retriever after a wounded bird. Then, witha cry of satisfaction, he bent forward and picked up a little brazencylinder. 

"I thought so, " said he, "the revolver had an ejector, and here is thethird cartridge. I really think, Inspector Martin, that our case isalmost complete. "

The country inspector's face had shown his intense amazement at therapid and masterful progress of Holmes's investigation. At first hehad shown some disposition to assert his own position, but now he wasovercome with admiration, and ready to follow without question whereverHolmes led. 

"Whom do you suspect?" he asked. 

"I'll go into that later. There are several points in this problem whichI have not been able to explain to you yet. Now that I have got so far, I had best proceed on my own lines, and then clear the whole matter uponce and for all. "

"Just as you wish, Mr. Holmes, so long as we get our man. "

"I have no desire to make mysteries, but it is impossible at the momentof action to enter into long and complex explanations. I have thethreads of this affair all in my hand. Even if this lady should neverrecover consciousness, we can still reconstruct the events of last nightand insure that justice be done. First of all, I wish to know whetherthere is any inn in this neighbourhood known as 'Elrige's'?"

The servants were cross-questioned, but none of them had heard of such aplace. The stable-boy threw a light upon the matter by remembering thata farmer of that name lived some miles off, in the direction of EastRuston. 

"Is it a lonely farm?"

"Very lonely, sir. "

"Perhaps they have not heard yet of all that happened here during thenight?"

"Maybe not, sir. "

Holmes thought for a little, and then a curious smile played over hisface. 

"Saddle a horse, my lad, " said he. "I shall wish you to take a note toElrige's Farm. "

He took from his pocket the various slips of the dancing men. With thesein front of him, he worked for some time at the study-table. Finally hehanded a note to the boy, with directions to put it into the handsof the person to whom it was addressed, and especially to answer noquestions of any sort which might be put to him. I saw the outside ofthe note, addressed in straggling, irregular characters, very unlikeHolmes's usual precise hand. It was consigned to Mr. Abe Slaney, ElrigesFarm, East Ruston, Norfolk. 

"I think, Inspector, " Holmes remarked, "that you would do well totelegraph for an escort, as, if my calculations prove to be correct, youmay have a particularly dangerous prisoner to convey to the county jail. The boy who takes this note could no doubt forward your telegram. Ifthere is an afternoon train to town, Watson, I think we should do wellto take it, as I have a chemical analysis of some interest to finish, and this investigation draws rapidly to a close. "

When the youth had been dispatched with the note, Sherlock Holmes gavehis instructions to the servants. If any visitor were to call asking forMrs. Hilton Cubitt, no information should be given as to her condition, but he was to be shown at once into the drawing-room. He impressed thesepoints upon them with the utmost earnestness. Finally he led the wayinto the drawing-room, with the remark that the business was now out ofour hands, and that we must while away the time as best we might untilwe could see what was in store for us. The doctor had departed to hispatients, and only the inspector and myself remained. 

"I think that I can help you to pass an hour in an interesting andprofitable manner, " said Holmes, drawing his chair up to the table, and spreading out in front of him the various papers upon which wererecorded the antics of the dancing men. "As to you, friend Watson, I oweyou every atonement for having allowed your natural curiosity to remainso long unsatisfied. To you, Inspector, the whole incident may appealas a remarkable professional study. I must tell you, first of all, theinteresting circumstances connected with the previous consultationswhich Mr. Hilton Cubitt has had with me in Baker Street. " He thenshortly recapitulated the facts which have already been recorded. "Ihave here in front of me these singular productions, at which onemight smile, had they not proved themselves to be the forerunners ofso terrible a tragedy. I am fairly familiar with all forms of secretwritings, and am myself the author of a trifling monograph upon thesubject, in which I analyze one hundred and sixty separate ciphers, but I confess that this is entirely new to me. The object of those whoinvented the system has apparently been to conceal that these charactersconvey a message, and to give the idea that they are the mere randomsketches of children. 

"Having once recognized, however, that the symbols stood for letters, and having applied the rules which guide us in all forms of secretwritings, the solution was easy enough. The first message submitted tome was so short that it was impossible for me to do more than to say, with some confidence, that the symbol XXX stood for E. As you are aware, E is the most common letter in the English alphabet, and it predominatesto so marked an extent that even in a short sentence one would expectto find it most often. Out of fifteen symbols in the first message, fourwere the same, so it was reasonable to set this down as E. It is truethat in some cases the figure was bearing a flag, and in some cases not, but it was probable, from the way in which the flags were distributed, that they were used to break the sentence up into words. I accepted thisas a hypothesis, and noted that E was represented by XXX. 

"But now came the real difficulty of the inquiry. The order ofthe English letters after E is by no means well marked, and anypreponderance which may be shown in an average of a printed sheet may bereversed in a single short sentence. Speaking roughly, T, A, O, I, N, S, H, R, D, and L are the numerical order in which letters occur, but T, A, O, and I are very nearly abreast of each other, and it would be anendless task to try each combination until a meaning was arrived at. I therefore waited for fresh material. In my second interview with Mr. Hilton Cubitt he was able to give me two other short sentences and onemessage, which appeared--since there was no flag--to be a single word. Here are the symbols. Now, in the single word I have already got thetwo E's coming second and fourth in a word of five letters. It mightbe 'sever, ' or 'lever, ' or 'never. ' There can be no question thatthe latter as a reply to an appeal is far the most probable, andthe circumstances pointed to its being a reply written by the lady. Accepting it as correct, we are now able to say that the symbols standrespectively for N, V, and R. 

"Even now I was in considerable difficulty, but a happy thought put mein possession of several other letters. It occurred to me that if theseappeals came, as I expected, from someone who had been intimate with thelady in her early life, a combination which contained two E's withthree letters between might very well stand for the name 'ELSIE. ' Onexamination I found that such a combination formed the termination ofthe message which was three times repeated. It was certainly some appealto 'Elsie. ' In this way I had got my L, S, and I. But what appeal couldit be? There were only four letters in the word which preceded 'Elsie, 'and it ended in E. Surely the word must be 'COME. ' I tried all otherfour letters ending in E, but could find none to fit the case. So now Iwas in possession of C, O, and M, and I was in a position to attack thefirst message once more, dividing it into words and putting dots foreach symbol which was still unknown. So treated, it worked out in thisfashion:

. M . ERE . . E SL. NE. 

"Now the first letter CAN only be A, which is a most useful discovery, since it occurs no fewer than three times in this short sentence, andthe H is also apparent in the second word. Now it becomes:

AM HERE A. E SLANE. 

Or, filling in the obvious vacancies in the name:

AM HERE ABE SLANEY. 

I had so many letters now that I could proceed with considerableconfidence to the second message, which worked out in this fashion:

A. ELRI. ES. 

Here I could only make sense by putting T and G for the missing letters, and supposing that the name was that of some house or inn at which thewriter was staying. "

Inspector Martin and I had listened with the utmost interest to the fulland clear account of how my friend had produced results which had led toso complete a command over our difficulties. 

"What did you do then, sir?" asked the inspector. 

"I had every reason to suppose that this Abe Slaney was an American, since Abe is an American contraction, and since a letter from Americahad been the starting-point of all the trouble. I had also every causeto think that there was some criminal secret in the matter. The lady'sallusions to her past, and her refusal to take her husband into herconfidence, both pointed in that direction. I therefore cabled to myfriend, Wilson Hargreave, of the New York Police Bureau, who has morethan once made use of my knowledge of London crime. I asked him whetherthe name of Abe Slaney was known to him. Here is his reply: 'The mostdangerous crook in Chicago. ' On the very evening upon which I had hisanswer, Hilton Cubitt sent me the last message from Slaney. Working withknown letters, it took this form:

ELSIE . RE. ARE TO MEET THY GO. 

The addition of a P and a D completed a message which showed me that therascal was proceeding from persuasion to threats, and my knowledge ofthe crooks of Chicago prepared me to find that he might very rapidlyput his words into action. I at once came to Norfolk with my friend andcolleague, Dr. Watson, but, unhappily, only in time to find that theworst had already occurred. "

"It is a privilege to be associated with you in the handling of a case, "said the inspector, warmly. "You will excuse me, however, if I speakfrankly to you. You are only answerable to yourself, but I have toanswer to my superiors. If this Abe Slaney, living at Elrige's, isindeed the murderer, and if he has made his escape while I am seatedhere, I should certainly get into serious trouble. "

"You need not be uneasy. He will not try to escape. "

"How do you know?"

"To fly would be a confession of guilt. "

"Then let us go arrest him. "

"I expect him here every instant. "

"But why should he come. "

"Because I have written and asked him. "

"But this is incredible, Mr. Holmes! Why should he come because youhave asked him? Would not such a request rather rouse his suspicions andcause him to fly?"

"I think I have known how to frame the letter, " said Sherlock Holmes. "In fact, if I am not very much mistaken, here is the gentleman himselfcoming up the drive. "

A man was striding up the path which led to the door. He was a tall, handsome, swarthy fellow, clad in a suit of gray flannel, with a Panamahat, a bristling black beard, and a great, aggressive hooked nose, andflourishing a cane as he walked. He swaggered up a path as if as ifthe place belonged to him, and we heard his loud, confident peal at thebell. 

"I think, gentlemen, " said Holmes, quietly, "that we had best take upour position behind the door. Every precaution is necessary when dealingwith such a fellow. You will need your handcuffs, Inspector. You canleave the talking to me. "

We waited in silence for a minute--one of those minutes which one cannever forget. Then the door opened and the man stepped in. In an instantHolmes clapped a pistol to his head, and Martin slipped the handcuffsover his wrists. It was all done so swiftly and deftly that the fellowwas helpless before he knew that he was attacked. He glared from one tothe other of us with a pair of blazing black eyes. Then he burst into abitter laugh. 

"Well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time. I seem to haveknocked up against something hard. But I came here in answer to a letterfrom Mrs. Hilton Cubitt. Don't tell me that she is in this? Don't tellme that she helped to set a trap for me?"

"Mrs. Hilton Cubitt was seriously injured, and is at death's door. "

The man gave a hoarse cry of grief, which rang through the house. 

"You're crazy!" he cried, fiercely. "It was he that was hurt, not she. Who would have hurt little Elsie? I may have threatened her--God forgiveme!--but I would not have touched a hair of her pretty head. Take itback--you! Say that she is not hurt!"

"She was found badly wounded, by the side of her dead husband. "

He sank with a deep groan on the settee and buried his face in hismanacled hands. For five minutes he was silent. Then he raised his faceonce more, and spoke with the cold composure of despair. 

"I have nothing to hide from you, gentlemen, " said he. "If I shot theman he had his shot at me, and there's no murder in that. But if youthink I could have hurt that woman, then you don't know either me orher. I tell you, there was never a man in this world loved a woman morethan I loved her. I had a right to her. She was pledged to me years ago. Who was this Englishman that he should come between us? I tell you thatI had the first right to her, and that I was only claiming my own. 

"She broke away from your influence when she found the man that youare, " said Holmes, sternly. "She fled from America to avoid you, and shemarried an honourable gentleman in England. You dogged her and followedher and made her life a misery to her, in order to induce her to abandonthe husband whom she loved and respected in order to fly with you, whomshe feared and hated. You have ended by bringing about the death of anoble man and driving his wife to suicide. That is your record in thisbusiness, Mr. Abe Slaney, and you will answer for it to the law. "

"If Elsie dies, I care nothing what becomes of me, " said the American. He opened one of his hands, and looked at a note crumpled up in hispalm. "See here, mister! he cried, with a gleam of suspicion in hiseyes, "you're not trying to scare me over this, are you? If the lady ishurt as bad as you say, who was it that wrote this note?" He tossed itforward on to the table. 

"I wrote it, to bring you here. "

"You wrote it? There was no one on earth outside the Joint who knew thesecret of the dancing men. How came you to write it?"

"What one man can invent another can discover, " said Holmes. There is acab coming to convey you to Norwich, Mr. Slaney. But meanwhile, you havetime to make some small reparation for the injury you have wrought. Areyou aware that Mrs. Hilton Cubitt has herself lain under grave suspicionof the murder of her husband, and that it was only my presence here, andthe knowledge which I happened to possess, which has saved her from theaccusation? The least that you owe her is to make it clear to the wholeworld that she was in no way, directly or indirectly, responsible forhis tragic end. "

"I ask nothing better, " said the American. "I guess the very best case Ican make for myself is the absolute naked truth. "

"It is my duty to warn you that it will be used against you, " cried theinspector, with the magnificent fair play of the British criminal law. 

Slaney shrugged his shoulders. 

"I'll chance that, " said he. "First of all, I want you gentlemen tounderstand that I have known this lady since she was a child. There wereseven of us in a gang in Chicago, and Elsie's father was the boss of theJoint. He was a clever man, was old Patrick. It was he who invented thatwriting, which would pass as a child's scrawl unless you just happenedto have the key to it. Well, Elsie learned some of our ways, but shecouldn't stand the business, and she had a bit of honest money of herown, so she gave us all the slip and got away to London. She had beenengaged to me, and she would have married me, I believe, if I had takenover another profession, but she would have nothing to do with anythingon the cross. It was only after her marriage to this Englishman that Iwas able to find out where she was. I wrote to her, but got no answer. After that I came over, and, as letters were no use, I put my messageswhere she could read them. 

"Well, I have been here a month now. I lived in that farm, where I hada room down below, and could get in and out every night, and no one thewiser. I tried all I could to coax Elsie away. I knew that she read themessages, for once she wrote an answer under one of them. Then my tempergot the better of me, and I began to threaten her. She sent me a letterthen, imploring me to go away, and saying that it would break her heartif any scandal should come upon her husband. She said that she wouldcome down when her husband was asleep at three in the morning, and speakwith me through the end window, if I would go away afterwards and leaveher in peace. She came down and brought money with her, trying to bribeme to go. This made me mad, and I caught her arm and tried to pullher through the window. At that moment in rushed the husband with hisrevolver in his hand. Elsie had sunk down upon the floor, and we wereface to face. I was heeled also, and I held up my gun to scare him offand let me get away. He fired and missed me. I pulled off almost at thesame instant, and down he dropped. I made away across the garden, and asI went I heard the window shut behind me. That's God's truth, gentlemen, every word of it, and I heard no more about it until that lad cameriding up with a note which made me walk in here, like a jay, and givemyself into your hands. "

A cab had driven up whilst the American had been talking. Two uniformedpolicemen sat inside. Inspector Martin rose and touched his prisoner onthe shoulder. 

"It is time for us to go. "

"Can I see her first?"

"No, she is not conscious. Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I only hope that if everagain I have an important case, I shall have the good fortune to haveyou by my side. "

We stood at the window and watched the cab drive away. As I turned back, my eye caught the pellet of paper which the prisoner had tossed upon thetable. It was the note with which Holmes had decoyed him. 

"See if you can read it, Watson, " said he, with a smile. 

It contained no word, but this little line of dancing men:

GRAPHIC

"If you use the code which I have explained, " said Holmes, "you willfind that it simply means 'Come here at once. ' I was convinced thatit was an invitation which he would not refuse, since he could neverimagine that it could come from anyone but the lady. And so, my dearWatson, we have ended by turning the dancing men to good when they haveso often been the agents of evil, and I think that I have fulfilled mypromise of giving you something unusual for your notebook. Three-fortyis our train, and I fancy we should be back in Baker Street for dinner. "

Only one word of epilogue. The American, Abe Slaney, was condemned todeath at the winter assizes at Norwich, but his penalty was changed topenal servitude in consideration of mitigating circumstances, and thecertainty that Hilton Cubitt had fired the first shot. Of Mrs. HiltonCubitt I only know that I have heard she recovered entirely, and thatshe still remains a widow, devoting her whole life to the care of thepoor and to the administration of her husband's estate. 

THE ADVENTURE OF THE SOLITARY CYCLIST

From the years 1894 to 1901 inclusive, Mr. Sherlock Holmes was avery busy man. It is safe to say that there was no public case of anydifficulty in which he was not consulted during those eight years, andthere were hundreds of private cases, some of them of the most intricateand extraordinary character, in which he played a prominent part. Manystartling successes and a few unavoidable failures were the outcome ofthis long period of continuous work. As I have preserved very full notesof all these cases, and was myself personally engaged in many of them, it may be imagined that it is no easy task to know which I should selectto lay before the public. I shall, however, preserve my former rule, andgive the preference to those cases which derive their interest not somuch from the brutality of the crime as from the ingenuity and dramaticquality of the solution. For this reason I will now lay before thereader the facts connected with Miss Violet Smith, the solitary cyclistof Charlington, and the curious sequel of our investigation, whichculminated in unexpected tragedy. It is true that the circumstance didnot admit of any striking illustration of those powers for which myfriend was famous, but there were some points about the case which madeit stand out in those long records of crime from which I gather thematerial for these little narratives. 

On referring to my notebook for the year 1895, I find that it was uponSaturday, the 23rd of April, that we first heard of Miss Violet Smith. Her visit was, I remember, extremely unwelcome to Holmes, for he wasimmersed at the moment in a very abstruse and complicated problemconcerning the peculiar persecution to which John Vincent Harden, thewell known tobacco millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, wholoved above all things precision and concentration of thought, resentedanything which distracted his attention from the matter in hand. And yet, without a harshness which was foreign to his nature, it wasimpossible to refuse to listen to the story of the young and beautifulwoman, tall, graceful, and queenly, who presented herself at BakerStreet late in the evening, and implored his assistance and advice. Itwas vain to urge that his time was already fully occupied, for theyoung lady had come with the determination to tell her story, and it wasevident that nothing short of force could get her out of the room untilshe had done so. With a resigned air and a somewhat weary smile, Holmesbegged the beautiful intruder to take a seat, and to inform us what itwas that was troubling her. 

"At least it cannot be your health, " said he, as his keen eyes dartedover her, "so ardent a bicyclist must be full of energy. "

She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the slightroughening of the side of the sole caused by the friction of the edge ofthe pedal. 

"Yes, I bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something to dowith my visit to you to-day. "

My friend took the lady's ungloved hand, and examined it with as closean attention and as little sentiment as a scientist would show to aspecimen. 

"You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my business, " said he, as hedropped it. "I nearly fell into the error of supposing that you weretypewriting. Of course, it is obvious that it is music. You observethe spatulate finger-ends, Watson, which is common to both professions?There is a spirituality about the face, however"--she gently turned ittowards the light--"which the typewriter does not generate. This lady isa musician. "

"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I teach music. "

"In the country, I presume, from your complexion. "

"Yes, sir, near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey. "

"A beautiful neighbourhood, and full of the most interestingassociations. You remember, Watson, that it was near there that we tookArchie Stamford, the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has happened to you, near Farnham, on the borders of Surrey?"

The young lady, with great clearness and composure, made the followingcurious statement:

"My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who conducted theorchestra at the old Imperial Theatre. My mother and I were left withouta relation in the world except one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went toAfrica twenty-five years ago, and we have never had a word from himsince. When father died, we were left very poor, but one day we weretold that there was an advertisement in the TIMES, inquiring for ourwhereabouts. You can imagine how excited we were, for we thought thatsomeone had left us a fortune. We went at once to the lawyer whose namewas given in the paper. There we, met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers andMr. Woodley, who were home on a visit from South Africa. They said thatmy uncle was a friend of theirs, that he had died some months before ingreat poverty in Johannesburg, and that he had asked them with his lastbreath to hunt up his relations, and see that they were in no want. Itseemed strange to us that Uncle Ralph, who took no notice of us when hewas alive, should be so careful to look after us when he was dead, butMr. Carruthers explained that the reason was that my uncle had justheard of the death of his brother, and so felt responsible for ourfate. "

"Excuse me, " said Holmes. "When was this interview?"

"Last December--four months ago. "

"Pray proceed. "

"Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person. He was for evermaking eyes at me--a coarse, puffy-faced, red-moustached young man, withhis hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I thought that hewas perfectly hateful--and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me toknow such a person. "

"Oh, Cyril is his name!" said Holmes, smiling. 

The young lady blushed and laughed. 

"Yes, Mr. Holmes, Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer, and we hopeto be married at the end of the summer. Dear me, how DID I get talkingabout him? What I wished to say was that Mr. Woodley was perfectlyodious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who was a much older man, was moreagreeable. He was a dark, sallow, clean-shaven, silent person, but hehad polite manners and a pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left, and on finding that we were very poor, he suggested that I should comeand teach music to his only daughter, aged ten. I said that I did notlike to leave my mother, on which he suggested that I should go hometo her every week-end, and he offered me a hundred a year, which wascertainly splendid pay. So it ended by my accepting, and I went downto Chiltern Grange, about six miles from Farnham. Mr. Carruthers wasa widower, but he had engaged a lady housekeeper, a very respectable, elderly person, called Mrs. Dixon, to look after his establishment. Thechild was a dear, and everything promised well. Mr. Carruthers was verykind and very musical, and we had most pleasant evenings together. Everyweek-end I went home to my mother in town. 

"The first flaw in my happiness was the arrival of the red-moustachedMr. Woodley. He came for a visit of a week, and oh! it seemed threemonths to me. He was a dreadful person--a bully to everyone else, but tome something infinitely worse. He made odious love to me, boasted of hiswealth, said that if I married him I could have the finest diamonds inLondon, and finally, when I would have nothing to do with him, he seizedme in his arms one day after dinner--he was hideously strong--and sworethat he would not let me go until I had kissed him. Mr. Carruthers camein and tore him from me, on which he turned upon his own host, knockinghim down and cutting his face open. That was the end of his visit, asyou can imagine. Mr. Carruthers apologized to me next day, and assuredme that I should never be exposed to such an insult again. I have notseen Mr. Woodley since. 

"And now, Mr. Holmes, I come at last to the special thing which hascaused me to ask your advice to-day. You must know that every Saturdayforenoon I ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station, in order to get the12:22 to town. The road from Chiltern Grange is a lonely one, and atone spot it is particularly so, for it lies for over a mile betweenCharlington Heath upon one side and the woods which lie roundCharlington Hall upon the other. You could not find a more lonely tractof road anywhere, and it is quite rare to meet so much as a cart, or apeasant, until you reach the high road near Crooksbury Hill. Two weeksago I was passing this place, when I chanced to look back over myshoulder, and about two hundred yards behind me I saw a man, also on abicycle. He seemed to be a middle-aged man, with a short, dark beard. Ilooked back before I reached Farnham, but the man was gone, so I thoughtno more about it. But you can imagine how surprised I was, Mr. Holmes, when, on my return on the Monday, I saw the same man on the same stretchof road. My astonishment was increased when the incident occurred again, exactly as before, on the following Saturday and Monday. He always kepthis distance and did not molest me in any way, but still it certainlywas very odd. I mentioned it to Mr. Carruthers, who seemed interested inwhat I said, and told me that he had ordered a horse and trap, sothat in future I should not pass over these lonely roads without somecompanion. 

"The horse and trap were to have come this week, but for some reasonthey were not delivered, and again I had to cycle to the station. That was this morning. You can think that I looked out when I came toCharlington Heath, and there, sure enough, was the man, exactly as hehad been the two weeks before. He always kept so far from me that Icould not clearly see his face, but it was certainly someone whom I didnot know. He was dressed in a dark suit with a cloth cap. The only thingabout his face that I could clearly see was his dark beard. To-day I wasnot alarmed, but I was filled with curiosity, and I determined to findout who he was and what he wanted. I slowed down my machine, but heslowed down his. Then I stopped altogether, but he stopped also. ThenI laid a trap for him. There is a sharp turning of the road, and Ipedalled very quickly round this, and then I stopped and waited. Iexpected him to shoot round and pass me before he could stop. But henever appeared. Then I went back and looked round the corner. Icould see a mile of road, but he was not on it. To make it the moreextraordinary, there was no side road at this point down which he couldhave gone. "

Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "This case certainly presentssome features of its own, " said he. "How much time elapsed between yourturning the corner and your discovery that the road was clear?"

"Two or three minutes. "

"Then he could not have retreated down the road, and you say that thereare no side roads?"

"None. "

"Then he certainly took a footpath on one side or the other. "

"It could not have been on the side of the heath, or I should have seenhim. "

"So, by the process of exclusion, we arrive at the fact that he made hisway toward Charlington Hall, which, as I understand, is situated in itsown grounds on one side of the road. Anything else?"

"Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so perplexed that I felt I shouldnot be happy until I had seen you and had your advice. "

Holmes sat in silence for some little time. 

"Where is the gentleman to whom you are engaged?" he asked at last. 

"He is in the Midland Electrical Company, at Coventry. "

"He would not pay you a surprise visit?"

"Oh, Mr. Holmes! As if I should not know him!"

"Have you had any other admirers?"

"Several before I knew Cyril. "

"And since?"

"There was this dreadful man, Woodley, if you can call him an admirer. "

"No one else?"

Our fair client seemed a little confused. 

"Who was he?" asked Holmes. 

"Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it had seemed to me sometimesthat my employer, Mr. Carruthers, 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 perfect gentleman. But a girl alwaysknows. "

"Ha!" Holmes looked grave. "What does he do for a living?"

"He is a rich man. "

"No carriages or horses?"

"Well, at least he is fairly well-to-do. But he goes into the city twoor three times a week. He is deeply interested in South African goldshares. "

"You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am very busyjust now, but I will find time to make some inquiries into your case. In the meantime, take no step without letting me know. Good-bye, and Itrust that we shall have nothing but good news from you. "

"It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl should havefollowers, " said Holmes, he pulled at his meditative pipe, "but forchoice not on bicycles in lonely country roads. Some secretive lover, beyond all doubt. But there are curious and suggestive details about thecase, Watson. "

"That he should appear only at that point?"

"Exactly. Our first effort must be to find who are the tenants ofCharlington Hall. Then, again, how about the connection betweenCarruthers and Woodley, since they appear to be men of such a differenttype? How came they BOTH to be so keen upon looking up Ralph Smith'srelations? One more point. What sort of a menage is it which pays doublethe market price for a governess but does not keep a horse, although sixmiles from the station? Odd, Watson--very odd!"

"You will go down?"

"No, my dear fellow, YOU will go down. This may be some triflingintrigue, and I cannot break my other important research for the sakeof it. On Monday you will arrive early at Farnham; you will concealyourself near Charlington Heath; you will observe these facts foryourself, and act as your own judgment advises. Then, having inquired asto the occupants of the Hall, you will come back to me and report. Andnow, Watson, not another word of the matter until we have a few solidstepping-stones on which we may hope to get across to our solution. "

We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday bythe train which leaves Waterloo at 9:50, so I started early and caughtthe 9:13. At Farnham Station I had no difficulty in being directed toCharlington Heath. It was impossible to mistake the scene of the younglady's adventure, for the road runs between the open heath on one sideand an old yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is studdedwith magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of lichen-studdedstone, each side pillar surmounted by mouldering heraldic emblems, butbesides this central carriage drive I observed several points wherethere were gaps in the hedge and paths leading through them. The housewas invisible from the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom anddecay. 

The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse, gleamingmagnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine. Behind one ofthese clumps I took up my position, so as to command both the gatewayof the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon either side. It had beendeserted when I left it, but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from theopposite direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a darksuit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of theCharlington grounds, he sprang from his machine and led it through a gapin the hedge, disappearing from my view. 

A quarter of an hour passed, and then a second cyclist appeared. Thistime it was the young lady coming from the station. I saw her lookabout her as she came to the Charlington hedge. An instant later the manemerged from his hiding-place, sprang upon his cycle, and followedher. In all the broad landscape those were the only moving figures, thegraceful girl sitting very straight upon her machine, and the man behindher bending low over his handle-bar with a curiously furtive suggestionin every movement. She looked back at him and slowed her pace. He slowedalso. She stopped. He at once stopped, too, keeping two hundred yardsbehind her. Her next movement was as unexpected as it was spirited. Shesuddenly whisked her wheels round and dashed straight at him. He was asquick as she, however, and darted off in desperate flight. Presently shecame back up the road again, her head haughtily in the air, not deigningto take any further notice of her silent attendant. He had turned also, and still kept his distance until the curve of the road hid them from mysight. 

I remained in my hiding-place, and it was well that I did so, forpresently the man reappeared, cycling slowly back. He turned in at theHall gates, and dismounted from his machine. For some minutes I couldsee him standing among the trees. His hands were raised, and he seemedto be settling his necktie. Then he mounted his cycle, and rode awayfrom me down the drive towards the Hall. I ran across the heath andpeered through the trees. Far away I could catch glimpses of the oldgray building with its bristling Tudor chimneys, but the drive ranthrough a dense shrubbery, and I saw no more of my man. 

However, it seemed to me that I had done a fairly good morning's work, and I walked back in high spirits to Farnham. The local house agentcould tell me nothing about Charlington Hall, and referred me to a wellknown firm in Pall Mall. There I halted on my way home, and met withcourtesy from the representative. No, I could not have Charlington Hallfor the summer. I was just too late. It had been let about a month ago. Mr. Williamson was the name of the tenant. He was a respectable, elderlygentleman. The polite agent was afraid he could say no more, as theaffairs of his clients were not matters which he could discuss. 

Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened with attention to the long report which Iwas able to present to him that evening, but it did not elicit thatword of curt praise which I had hoped for and should have valued. Onthe contrary, his austere face was even more severe than usual as hecommented upon the things that I had done and the things that I had not. 

"Your hiding-place, my dear Watson, was very faulty. You should havebeen behind the hedge, then you would have had a close view of thisinteresting person. As it is, you were some hundreds of yards away andcan tell me even less than Miss Smith. She thinks she does not knowthe man; I am convinced she does. Why, otherwise, should he be sodesperately anxious that she should not get so near him as to see hisfeatures? You describe him as bending over the handle-bar. Concealmentagain, you see. You really have done remarkably badly. He returns to thehouse, and you want to find out who he is. You come to a London houseagent!"

"What should I have done?" I cried, with some heat. 

"Gone to the nearest public-house. That is the centre of countrygossip. They would have told you every name, from the master to thescullery-maid. Williamson? It conveys nothing to my mind. If he is anelderly man he is not this active cyclist who sprints away from thatyoung lady's athletic pursuit. What have we gained by your expedition?The knowledge that the girl's story is true. I never doubted it. Thatthere is a connection between the cyclist and the Hall. I never doubtedthat either. That the Hall is tenanted by Williamson. Who's the betterfor that? Well, well, my dear sir, don't look so depressed. We can dolittle more until next Saturday, and in the meantime I may make one ortwo inquiries myself. "

Next morning, we had a note from Miss Smith, recounting shortly andaccurately the very incidents which I had seen, but the pith of theletter lay in the postscript:

I am sure that you will respect my confidence, Mr. Holmes, when I tellyou that my place here has become difficult, owing to the fact that myemployer has proposed marriage to me. I am convinced that his feelingsare most deep and most honourable. At the same time, my promise is ofcourse given. He took my refusal very seriously, but also very gently. You can understand, however, that the situation is a little strained. "Our young friend seems to be getting into deep waters, " said Holmes, thoughtfully, as he finished the letter. "The case certainly presentsmore features of interest and more possibility of development than I hadoriginally thought. I should be none the worse for a quiet, peaceful dayin the country, and I am inclined to run down this afternoon and testone or two theories which I have formed. "

Holmes's quiet day in the country had a singular termination, forhe arrived at Baker Street late in the evening, with a cut lip and adiscoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipationwhich would have made his own person the fitting object of a ScotlandYard investigation. He was immensely tickled by his own adventures andlaughed heartily as he recounted them. 

"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 Britishsport of boxing. Occasionally, it is of service, to-day, for example, Ishould have come to very ignominious grief without it. "

I begged him to tell me what had occurred. 

"I found that country pub which I had already recommended to yournotice, and there I made my discreet inquiries. I was in the bar, anda garrulous landlord was giving me all that I wanted. Williamson is awhite-bearded man, and he lives alone with a small staff of servants atthe Hall. There is some rumor that he is or has been a clergyman, butone or two incidents of his short residence at the Hall struck me aspeculiarly unecclesiastical. I have already made some inquiries at aclerical agency, and they tell me that there WAS a man of that namein orders, whose career has been a singularly dark one. The landlordfurther informed me that there are usually week-end visitors--'awarm lot, sir'--at the Hall, and especially one gentleman with a redmoustache, Mr. Woodley by name, who was always there. We had got as faras this, when who should walk in but the gentleman himself, who had beendrinking his beer in the tap-room and had heard the whole conversation. Who was I? What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He hada fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous. He endeda string of abuse by a vicious backhander, which I failed to entirelyavoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight leftagainst a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me. Mr. Woodley wenthome in a cart. So ended my country trip, and it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on the Surrey border has not been much moreprofitable than your own. "

The Thursday brought us another letter from our client. 

You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes [said she] to hear that I amleaving Mr. Carruthers's employment. Even the high pay cannot reconcileme to the discomforts of my situation. On Saturday I come up to town, and I do not intend to return. Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and sothe dangers of the lonely road, if there ever were any dangers, are nowover. 

As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the strainedsituation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the reappearance of that odiousman, Mr. Woodley. He was always hideous, but he looks more awfulthan ever now, for he appears to have had an accident and he is muchdisfigured. I saw him out of the window, but I am glad to say I didnot meet him. He had a long talk with Mr. Carruthers, who seemed muchexcited afterwards. Woodley must be staying in the neighbourhood, forhe did not sleep here, and yet I caught a glimpse of him again thismorning, slinking about in the shrubbery. I would sooner have a savagewild animal loose about the place. I loathe and fear him more than Ican say. How CAN Mr. Carruthers endure such a creature for a moment?However, all my troubles will be over on Saturday. 

"So I trust, Watson, so I trust, " said Holmes, gravely. "There is somedeep intrigue going on round that little woman, and it is our duty tosee that no one molests her upon that last journey. I think, Watson, that we must spare time to run down together on Saturday morning andmake sure that this curious and inclusive investigation has no untowardending. "

I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view ofthe case, which had seemed to me rather grotesque and bizarre thandangerous. That a man should lie in wait for and follow a very handsomewoman is no unheard-of thing, and if he has so little audacity that henot only dared not address her, but even fled from her approach, hewas not a very formidable assailant. The ruffian Woodley was a verydifferent person, but, except on one occasion, he had not molested ourclient, and now he visited the house of Carruthers without intrudingupon her presence. The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member ofthose week-end parties at the Hall of which the publican had spoken, but who he was, or what he wanted, was as obscure as ever. It was theseverity of Holmes's manner and the fact that he slipped a revolver intohis pocket before leaving our rooms which impressed me with the feelingthat tragedy might prove to lurk behind this curious train of events. 

A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and theheath-covered countryside, with the glowing clumps of flowering gorse, seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of the duns anddrabs and slate grays of London. Holmes and I walked along the broad, sandy road inhaling the fresh morning air and rejoicing in the music ofthe birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of the roadon the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill, we could see the grim Hall bristlingout from amidst the ancient oaks, which, old as they were, were stillyounger than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down thelong tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band, between the brownof the heath and the budding green of the woods. Far away, a blackdot, we could see a vehicle moving in our direction. Holmes gave anexclamation of impatience. 

"I have given a margin of half an hour, " said he. "If that is her trap, she must be making for the earlier train. I fear, Watson, that she willbe past Charlington before we can possibly meet her. "

From the instant that we passed the rise, we could no longer see thevehicle, but we hastened onward at such a pace that my sedentary lifebegan to tell upon me, and I was compelled to fall behind. Holmes, however, was always in training, for he had inexhaustible stores ofnervous energy upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed untilsuddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and Isaw him throw up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At thesame instant an empty dog-cart, the horse cantering, the reins trailing, appeared round the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us. 

"Too late, Watson, too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran panting to hisside. "Fool that I was not to allow for that earlier train! It'sabduction, Watson--abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road!Stop the horse! That's right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I canrepair the consequences of my own blunder. "

We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the horse, gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew back along the road. Aswe turned the curve, the whole stretch of road between the Hall and theheath was opened up. I grasped Holmes's arm. 

"That's the man!" I gasped. A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was down and his shoulders rounded, as he put every ounce ofenergy that he possessed on to the pedals. He was flying like a racer. Suddenly he raised his bearded face, saw us close to him, and pulledup, springing from his machine. That coal-black beard was in singularcontrast to eyes were as bright as if he had a fever. He stared at usand at the dog-cart. Then a look of amazement came over his face. 

"Halloa! Stop there!" he shouted, holding his bicycle to block our road. "Where did you get that dog-cart? Pull up, man!" he yelled, drawing apistol from his side "Pull up, I say, or, by George, I'll put a bulletinto your horse. "

Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang down from the cart. 

"You're the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet Smith?" he said, inhis quick, clear way. 

"That's what I'm asking you. You're in her dog-cart. You ought to knowwhere she is. "

"We met the dog-cart on the road. There was no one in it. We drove backto help the young lady. "

"Good Lord! Good Lord! What shall I do?" cried the stranger, in anecstasy of despair. "They've got her, that hell-hound Woodley and theblackguard parson. Come, man, come, if you really are her friend. Standby me and we'll save her, if I have to leave my carcass in CharlingtonWood. "

He ran distractedly, his pistol in his hand, towards a gap in the hedge. Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the horse grazing beside the road, followed Holmes. 

"This is where they came through, " said he, pointing to the marks ofseveral feet upon the muddy path. "Halloa! Stop a minute! Who's this inthe bush?"

It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler, withleather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his back, his knees drawn up, aterrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but alive. A glance athis wound told me that it had not penetrated the bone. 

"That's Peter, the groom, " cried the stranger. "He drove her. The beastshave pulled him off and clubbed him. Let him lie; we can't do him anygood, but we may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman. "

We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees. We hadreached the shrubbery which surrounded the house when Holmes pulled up. 

"They didn't go to the house. Here are their marks on the left--here, beside the laurel bushes. Ah! I said so. "

As he spoke, a woman's shrill scream--a scream which vibrated with afrenzy of horror--burst from the thick, green clump of bushes in frontof us. It ended suddenly on its highest note with a choke and a gurgle. 

"This way! This way! They are in the bowling-alley, " cried thestranger, darting through the bushes. "Ah, the cowardly dogs! Follow me, gentlemen! Too late! too late! by the living Jingo!"

We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward surrounded byancient trees. On the farther side of it, under the shadow of a mightyoak, there stood a singular group of three people. One was a woman, ourclient, drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite herstood a brutal, heavy-faced, red-moustached young man, his gaitered legsparted wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a riding crop, his wholeattitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly, gray-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light tweed suit, had evidently just completed the wedding service, for he pocketed hisprayer-book as we appeared, and slapped the sinister bridegroom upon theback in jovial congratulation. 

"They're married!" I gasped. 

"Come on!" cried our guide, "come on!" He rushed across the glade, Holmes and I at his heels. As we approached, the lady staggered againstthe trunk of the tree for support. Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowedto us with mock politeness, and the bully, Woodley, advanced with ashout of brutal and exultant laughter. 

"You can take your beard off, Bob, " said he. "I know you, right enough. Well, you and your pals have just come in time for me to be able tointroduce you to Mrs. Woodley. "

Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beardwhich had disguised him and threw it on the ground, disclosing a long, sallow, clean-shaven face below it. Then he raised his revolver andcovered the young ruffian, who was advancing upon him with his dangerousriding-crop swinging in his hand. 

"Yes, " said our ally, "I am Bob Carruthers, and I'll see this womanrighted, if I have to swing for it. I told you what I'd do if youmolested her, and, by the Lord! I'll be as good as my word. "

"You're too late. She's my wife. "

"No, she's your widow. "

His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front ofWoodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a scream and fell upon his back, his hideous red face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor. Theold man, still clad in his surplice, burst into such a string of fouloaths as I have never heard, and pulled out a revolver of his own, but, before he could raise it, he was looking down the barrel of Holmes'sweapon. 

"Enough of this, " said my friend, coldly. "Drop that pistol! Watson, pick it up! Hold it to his head. Thank you. You, Carruthers, give methat revolver. We'll have no more violence. Come, hand it over!"

"Who are you, then?"

"My name is Sherlock Holmes. "

"Good Lord!"

"You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official police untiltheir arrival. Here, you!" he shouted to a frightened groom, who hadappeared at the edge of the glade. "Come here. Take this note as hard asyou can ride to Farnham. " He scribbled a few words upon a leaf from hisnotebook. "Give it to the superintendent at the police-station. Until hecomes, I must detain you all under my personal custody. "

The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the tragic scene, and all were equally puppets in his hands. Williamson and Carruthersfound themselves carrying the wounded Woodley into the house, and I gavemy arm to the frightened girl. The injured man was laid on his bed, andat Holmes's request I examined him. I carried my report to where he satin the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his two prisoners before him. 

"He will live, " said I. 

"What!" cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. "I'll go upstairsand finish him first. Do you tell me that that angel, is to be tied toRoaring Jack Woodley for life?"

"You need not concern yourself about that, " said Holmes. "There are twovery good reasons why she should, under no circumstances, be his wife. In the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr. Williamson'sright to solemnize a marriage. "

"I have been ordained, " cried the old rascal. 

"And also unfrocked. "

"Once a clergyman, always a clergyman. "

"I think not. How about the license?"

"We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my pocket. "

"Then you got it by trick. But, in any case a forced marriage is nomarriage, but it is a very serious felony, as you will discover beforeyou have finished. You'll have time to think the point out during thenext ten years or so, unless I am mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, youwould have done better to keep your pistol in your pocket. "

"I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes, but when I thought of all theprecaution 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 droveme mad to think that she was in the power of the greatest brute andbully in South Africa--a man whose name is a holy terror from Kimberleyto Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you'll hardly believe it, but eversince that girl has been in my employment I never once let her go pastthis house, where I knew the rascals were lurking, without following heron my bicycle, just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my distancefrom her, and I wore a beard, so that she should not recognize me, forshe is a good and high-spirited girl, and she wouldn't have stayed inmy employment long if she had thought that I was following her about thecountry roads. "

"Why didn't you tell her of her danger?"

"Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't bear toface that. Even if she couldn't love me, it was a great deal to me justto see her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of hervoice. "

"Well, " said I, "you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I should callit selfishness. "

"Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her go. Besides, with this crowd about, it was well that she should have someonenear to look after her. Then, when the cable came, I knew they werebound to make a move. "

"What cable?"

Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket "That's it, " said he. 

It was short and concise:

The old man is dead. 

"Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things worked, and I canunderstand how this message would, as you say, bring them to a head. Butwhile you wait, you might tell me what you can. "

The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad language. 

"By heaven!" said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers, I'll serveyou as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about the girl to yourheart's content, for that's your own affair, but if you round on yourpals to this plain-clothes copper, it will be the worst day's work thatever you did. "

"Your reverence need not be excited, " said Holmes, lighting a cigarette. "The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask is a few detailsfor my private curiosity. However, if there's any difficulty in yourtelling me, I'll do the talking, and then you will see how far you havea chance of holding back your secrets. In the first place, three of youcame from South Africa on this game--you Williamson, you Carruthers, andWoodley. "

"Lie number one, " said the old man; "I never saw either of them untiltwo months ago, and I have never been in Africa in my life, so you canput that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!"

"What he says is true, " said Carruthers. 

"Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own homemadearticle. You had known Ralph Smith in South Africa. You had reasonto believe he would not live long. You found out that his niece wouldinherit his fortune. How's that--eh?"

Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore. 

"She was next of kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old fellowwould make no will. "

"Couldn't read or write, " said Carruthers. 

"So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl. The ideawas that one of you was to marry her, and the other have a share of theplunder. For some reason, Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why wasthat?"

"We played cards for her on the voyage. He won. "

"I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there Woodley wasto do the courting. She recognized the drunken brute that he was, andwould have nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement wasrather upset by the fact that you had yourself fallen in love with thelady. You could no longer bear the idea of this ruffian owning her?"

"No, by George, I couldn't!"

"There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage, and began tomake his own plans independently of you. "

"It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we can tell thisgentleman, " cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh. "Yes, we quarreled, and he knocked me down. I am level with him on that, anyhow. Then I lostsight of him. That was when he picked up with this outcast padre here. I found that they had set up housekeeping together at this place on theline that she had to pass for the station. I kept my eye on her afterthat, for I knew there was some devilry in the wind. I saw them fromtime to time, for I was anxious to know what they were after. Two daysago Woodley came up to my house with this cable, which showed that RalphSmith was dead. He asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said Iwould not. He asked me if I would marry the girl myself and give him ashare. I said I would willingly do so, but that she would not have me. He said, 'Let us get her married first and after a week or two she maysee things a bit different. ' I said I would have nothing to do withviolence. So he went off cursing, like the foul-mouthed blackguard thathe was, and swearing that he would have her yet. She was leaving me thisweek-end, and I had got a trap to take her to the station, but I wasso uneasy in my mind that I followed her on my bicycle. She had got astart, however, and before I could catch her, the mischief was done. The first thing I knew about it was when I saw you two gentlemen drivingback in her dog-cart. "

Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate. "I havebeen very obtuse, Watson, " said he. "When in your report you said thatyou had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie inthe shrubbery, that alone should have told me all. However, we maycongratulate ourselves upon a curious and, in some respects, a uniquecase. I perceive three of the county constabulary in the drive, and I amglad to see that the little ostler is able to keep pace with them, soit is likely that neither he nor the interesting bridegroom will bepermanently damaged by their morning's adventures. I think, Watson, thatin your medical capacity, you might wait upon Miss Smith and tell herthat if she is sufficiently recovered, we shall be happy to escort herto her mother's home. If she is not quite convalescent you will findthat a hint that we were about to telegraph to a young electricianin the Midlands would probably complete the cure. As to you, Mr. Carruthers, I think that you have done what you could to make amends foryour share in an evil plot. There is my card, sir, and if my evidencecan be of help in your trial, it shall be at your disposal. "

In the whirl of our incessant activity, it has often been difficult forme, as the reader has probably observed, to round off my narratives, andto give those final details which the curious might expect. Each casehas been the prelude to another, and the crisis once over, the actorshave passed for ever out of our busy lives. I find, however, a shortnote at the end of my manuscript dealing with this case, in which I haveput it upon record that Miss Violet Smith did indeed inherit a largefortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the seniorpartner of Morton & Kennedy, the famous Westminster electricians. Williamson and Woodley were both tried for abduction and assault, theformer getting seven years the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers, I have no record, but I am sure that his assault was not viewed verygravely by the court, since Woodley had the reputation of being a mostdangerous ruffian, and I think that a few, months were sufficient tosatisfy the demands of justice. 

THE ADVENTURE OF THE PRIORY SCHOOL

We have had some dramatic entrances and exits upon our small stage atBaker Street, but I cannot recollect anything more sudden and startlingthan the first appearance of Thorneycroft Huxtable, M. A. , Ph. D. , etc. His card, which seemed too small to carry the weight of his academicdistinctions, preceded him by a few seconds, and then he enteredhimself--so large, so pompous, and so dignified that he was the veryembodiment of self-possession and solidity. And yet his first action, when the door had closed behind him, was to stagger against the table, whence he slipped down upon the floor, and there was that majesticfigure prostrate and insensible upon our bearskin hearth-rug. 

We had sprung to our feet, and for a few moments we stared in silentamazement at this ponderous piece of wreckage, which told of some suddenand fatal storm far out on the ocean of life. Then Holmes hurried witha cushion for his head, and I with brandy for his lips. The heavy, whiteface was seamed with lines of trouble, the hanging pouches under theclosed eyes were leaden in colour, the loose mouth drooped dolorously atthe corners, the rolling chins were unshaven. Collar and shirt borethe grime of a long journey, and the hair bristled unkempt from thewell-shaped head. It was a sorely stricken man who lay before us. 

"What is it, Watson?" asked Holmes. 

"Absolute exhaustion--possibly mere hunger and fatigue, " said I, with myfinger on the thready pulse, where the stream of life trickled thin andsmall. 

"Return ticket from Mackleton, in the north of England, " said Holmes, drawing it from the watch-pocket. "It is not twelve o'clock yet. He hascertainly been an early starter. "

The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and now a pair of vacant grayeyes looked up at us. An instant later the man had scrambled on to hisfeet, his face crimson with shame. 

"Forgive this weakness, Mr. Holmes, I have been a little overwrought. Thank you, if I might have a glass of milk and a biscuit, I have nodoubt that I should be better. I came personally, Mr. Holmes, in orderto insure that you would return with me. I feared that no telegram wouldconvince you of the absolute urgency of the case. "

"When you are quite restored----"

"I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I came to be so weak. Iwish you, Mr. Holmes, to come to Mackleton with me by the next train. "

My friend shook his head. 

"My colleague, Dr. Watson, could tell you that we are very busy atpresent. I am retained in this case of the Ferrers Documents, and theAbergavenny murder is coming up for trial. Only a very important issuecould call me from London at present. "

"Important!" Our visitor threw up his hands. "Have you heard nothing ofthe abduction of the only son of the Duke of Holdernesse?"

"What! the late Cabinet Minister?"

"Exactly. We had tried to keep it out of the papers, but there was somerumor in the GLOBE last night. I thought it might have reached yourears. "

Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked out Volume "H" in hisencyclopaedia of reference. 

"'Holdernesse, 6th Duke, K. G. , P. C. '--half the alphabet! 'BaronBeverley, Earl of Carston'--dear me, what a list! 'Lord Lieutenantof Hallamshire since 1900. Married Edith, daughter of Sir CharlesAppledore, 1888. Heir and only child, Lord Saltire. Owns about twohundred and fifty thousand acres. Minerals in Lancashire and Wales. Address: Carlton House Terrace; Holdernesse Hall, Hallamshire; CarstonCastle, Bangor, Wales. Lord of the Admiralty, 1872; Chief Secretary ofState for----' Well, well, this man is certainly one of the greatestsubjects of the Crown!"

"The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes, thatyou take a very high line in professional matters, and that you areprepared to work for the work's sake. I may tell you, however, that hisGrace has already intimated that a check for five thousand pounds willbe handed over to the person who can tell him where his son is, andanother thousand to him who can name the man or men who have taken him. "

"It is a princely offer, " said Holmes. "Watson, I think that we shallaccompany Dr. Huxtable back to the north of England. And now, Dr. Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk, you will kindly tell me whathas happened, when it happened, how it happened, and, finally, what Dr. Thorneycroft Huxtable, of the Priory School, near Mackleton, has to dowith the matter, and why he comes three days after an event--the stateof your chin gives the date--to ask for my humble services. "

Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had come backto his eyes and the colour to his cheeks, as he set himself with greatvigour and lucidity to explain the situation. 

"I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory school, of which I am the founder and principal. HUXTABLE'S SIDELIGHTS ON HORACEmay possibly recall my name to your memories. The Priory is, withoutexception, the best and most select preparatory school in England. LordLeverstoke, the Earl of Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames--they all haveintrusted their sons to me. But I felt that my school had reached itszenith when, weeks ago, the Duke of Holdernesse sent Mr. James Wilder, his secretary, with intimation that young Lord Saltire, ten years old, his only son and heir, was about to be committed to my charge. Littledid I think that this would be the prelude to the most crushingmisfortune of my life. 

"On May 1st the boy arrived, that being the beginning of the summerterm. He was a charming youth, and he soon fell into our ways. I maytell you--I trust that I am not indiscreet, but half-confidences areabsurd in such a case--that he was not entirely happy at home. It is anopen secret that the Duke's married life had not been a peaceful one, and the matter had ended in a separation by mutual consent, the Duchesstaking up her residence in the south of France. This had occurred veryshortly before, and the boy's sympathies are known to have been stronglywith his mother. He moped after her departure from Holdernesse Hall, and it was for this reason that the Duke desired to send him to myestablishment. In a fortnight the boy was quite at home with us and wasapparently absolutely happy. 

"He was last seen on the night of May 13th--that is, the night of lastMonday. His room was on the second floor and was approached throughanother larger room, in which two boys were sleeping. These boys saw andheard nothing, so that it is certain that young Saltire did not pass outthat way. His window was open, and there is a stout ivy plant leading tothe ground. We could trace no footmarks below, but it is sure that thisis the only possible exit. 

"His absence was discovered at seven o'clock on Tuesday morning. His bedhad been slept in. He had dressed himself fully, before going off, inhis usual school suit of black Eton jacket and dark gray trousers. Therewere no signs that anyone had entered the room, and it is quite certainthat anything in the nature of cries or ones struggle would have beenheard, since Caunter, the elder boy in the inner room, is a very lightsleeper. 

"When Lord Saltire's disappearance was discovered, I at once called aroll of the whole establishment--boys, masters, and servants. It wasthen that we ascertained that Lord Saltire had not been alone in hisflight. Heidegger, the German master, was missing. His room was on thesecond floor, at the farther end of the building, facing the same wayas Lord Saltire's. His bed had also been slept in, but he had apparentlygone away partly dressed, since his shirt and socks were lying on thefloor. He had undoubtedly let himself down by the ivy, for we could seethe marks of his feet where he had landed on the lawn. His bicycle waskept in a small shed beside this lawn, and it also was gone. 

"He had been with me for two years, and came with the best references, but he was a silent, morose man, not very popular either with mastersor boys. No trace could be found of the fugitives, and now, on Thursdaymorning, we are as ignorant as we were on Tuesday. Inquiry was, ofcourse, made at once at Holdernesse Hall. It is only a few miles away, and we imagined that, in some sudden attack of homesickness, he hadgone back to his father, but nothing had been heard of him. The Duke isgreatly agitated, and, as to me, you have seen yourselves the state ofnervous prostration to which the suspense and the responsibility havereduced me. Mr. Holmes, if ever you put forward your full powers, Iimplore you to do so now, for never in your life could you have a casewhich is more worthy of them. "

Sherlock Holmes had listened with the utmost intentness to the statementof the unhappy schoolmaster. His drawn brows and the deep furrowbetween them showed that he needed no exhortation to concentrate allhis attention upon a problem which, apart from the tremendous interestsinvolved must appeal so directly to his love of the complex and theunusual. He now drew out his notebook and jotted down one or twomemoranda. 

"You have been very remiss in not coming to me sooner, " said he, severely. "You start me on my investigation with a very serioushandicap. It is inconceivable, for example, that this ivy and this lawnwould have yielded nothing to an expert observer. "

"I am not to blame, Mr. Holmes. His Grace was extremely desirous toavoid all public scandal. He was afraid of his family unhappiness beingdragged before the world. He has a deep horror of anything of the kind. "

"But there has been some official investigation?"

"Yes, sir, and it has proved most disappointing. An apparent clue wasat once obtained, since a boy and a young man were reported to have beenseen leaving a neighbouring station by an early train. Only last nightwe had news that the couple had been hunted down in Liverpool, and theyprove to have no connection whatever with the matter in hand. Then itwas that in my despair and disappointment, after a sleepless night, Icame straight to you by the early train. "

"I suppose the local investigation was relaxed while this false clue wasbeing followed up?"

"It was entirely dropped. "

"So that three days have been wasted. The affair has been mostdeplorably handled. "

"I feel it and admit it. "

"And yet the problem should be capable of ultimate solution. I shall bevery happy to look into it. Have you been able to trace any connectionbetween the missing boy and this German master?"

"None at all. "

"Was he in the master's class?"

"No, he never exchanged a word with him, so far as I know. "

"That is certainly very singular. Had the boy a bicycle?"

"No. "

"Was any other bicycle missing?"

"No. "

"Is that certain?"

"Quite. "

"Well, now, you do not mean to seriously suggest that this German rodeoff upon a bicycle in the dead of the night, bearing the boy in hisarms?"

"Certainly not. "

"Then what is the theory in your mind?"

"The bicycle may have been a blind. It may have been hidden somewhere, and the pair gone off on foot. "

"Quite so, but it seems rather an absurd blind, does it not? Were thereother bicycles in this shed?"

"Several. "

"Would he not have hidden a couple, had he desired to give the idea thatthey had gone off upon them?"

"I suppose he would. "

"Of course he would. The blind theory won't do. But the incident is anadmirable starting-point for an investigation. After all, a bicycleis not an easy thing to conceal or to destroy. One other question. Didanyone call to see the boy on the day before he disappeared?"

"No. "

"Did he get any letters?"

"Yes, one letter. "

"From whom?"

"From his father. "

"Do you open the boys' letters?"

"No. "

"How do you know it was from the father?"

"The coat of arms was on the envelope, and it was addressed in theDuke's peculiar stiff hand. Besides, the Duke remembers having written. "

"When had he a letter before that?"

"Not for several days. "

"Had he ever one from France?"

"No, never. 

"You see the point of my questions, of course. Either the boy wascarried off by force or he went of his own free will. In the lattercase, you would expect that some prompting from outside would be neededto make so young a lad do such a thing. If he has had no visitors, thatprompting must have come in letters; hence I try to find out who werehis correspondents. "

"I fear I cannot help you much. His only correspondent, so far as Iknow, was his own father. "

"Who wrote to him on the very day of his disappearance. Were therelations between father and son very friendly?"

"His Grace is never very friendly with anyone. He is completely immersedin large public questions, and is rather inaccessible to all ordinaryemotions. But he was always kind to the boy in his own way. "

"But the sympathies of the latter were with the mother?"

"Yes. "

"Did he say so?"

"No. "

"The Duke, then?"

"Good heaven, no!"

"Then how could you know?"

"I have had some confidential talks with Mr. James Wilder, his Gracessecretary. It was he who gave me the information about Lord Saltire'sfeelings. "

"I see. By the way, that last letter of the Dukes--was it found in theboy's room after he was gone?"

"No, he had taken it with him. I think, Mr. Holmes, it is time that wewere leaving for Euston. "

"I will order a four-wheeler. In a quarter of an hour, we shall be atyour service. If you are telegraphing home, Mr. Huxtable, it wouldbe well to allow the people in your neighbourhood to imagine thatthe inquiry is still going on in Liverpool, or wherever else that redherring led your pack. In the meantime I will do a little quiet work atyour own doors, and perhaps the scent is not so cold but that two oldhounds like Watson and myself may get a sniff of it. "

That evening found us in the cold, bracing atmosphere of the Peakcountry, in which Dr. Huxtable's famous school is situated. It wasalready dark when we reached it. A card was lying on the hall table, and the butler whispered something to his master, who turned to us withagitation in every heavy feature. 

"The Duke is here, " said he. "The Duke and Mr. Wilder are in the study. Come, gentlemen, and I will introduce you. "

I was, of course, familiar with the pictures of the famous statesman, but the man himself was very different from his representation. He was atall and stately person, scrupulously dressed, with a drawn, thin face, and a nose which was grotesquely curved and long. His complexion wasof a dead pallor, which was more startling by contrast with a long, dwindling beard of vivid red, which flowed down over his white waistcoatwith his watch-chain gleaming through its fringe. Such was the statelypresence who looked stonily at us from the centre of Dr. Huxtable'shearthrug. Beside him stood a very young man, whom I understood tobe Wilder, the private secretary. He was small, nervous, alert withintelligent light-blue eyes and mobile features. It was he who at once, in an incisive and positive tone, opened the conversation. 

"I called this morning, Dr. Huxtable, too late to prevent you fromstarting for London. I learned that your object was to invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes to undertake the conduct of this case. His Grace issurprised, Dr. Huxtable, that you should have taken such a step withoutconsulting him. "

"When I learned that the police had failed----"

"His Grace is by no means convinced that the police have failed. "

"But surely, Mr. Wilder----"

"You are well aware, Dr. Huxtable, that his Grace is particularlyanxious to avoid all public scandal. He prefers to take as few people aspossible into his confidence. "

"The matter can be easily remedied, " said the brow-beaten doctor; "Mr. Sherlock Holmes can return to London by the morning train. "

"Hardly that, Doctor, hardly that, " said Holmes, in his blandest voice. "This northern air is invigorating and pleasant, so I propose to spend afew days upon your moors, and to occupy my mind as best I may. WhetherI have the shelter of your roof or of the village inn is, of course, foryou to decide. "

I could see that the unfortunate doctor was in the last stage ofindecision, from which he was rescued by the deep, sonorous voice of thered-bearded Duke, which boomed out like a dinner-gong. 

"I agree with Mr. Wilder, Dr. Huxtable, that you would have done wiselyto consult me. But since Mr. Holmes has already been taken into yourconfidence, it would indeed be absurd that we should not avail ourselvesof his services. Far from going to the inn, Mr. Holmes, I should bepleased if you would come and stay with me at Holdernesse Hall. "

"I thank your Grace. For the purposes of my investigation, I think thatit would be wiser for me to remain at the scene of the mystery. "

"Just as you like, Mr. Holmes. Any information which Mr. Wilder or I cangive you is, of course, at your disposal. "

"It will probably be necessary for me to see you at the Hall, " saidHolmes. "I would only ask you now, sir, whether you have formed anyexplanation in your own mind as to the mysterious disappearance of yourson?"

"No sir I have not. "

"Excuse me if I allude to that which is painful to you, but I have noalternative. Do you think that the Duchess had anything to do with thematter?"

The great minister showed perceptible hesitation. 

"I do not think so, " he said, at last. 

"The other most obvious explanation is that the child has been kidnappedfor the purpose of levying ransom. You have not had any demand of thesort?"

"No, sir. "

"One more question, your Grace. I understand that you wrote to your sonupon the day when this incident occurred. "

"No, I wrote upon the day before. "

"Exactly. But he received it on that day?"

"Yes. "

"Was there anything in your letter which might have unbalanced him orinduced him to take such a step?"

"No, sir, certainly not. "

"Did you post that letter yourself?"

The nobleman's reply was interrupted by his secretary, who broke in withsome heat. 

"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 putthem in the post-bag. "

"You are sure this one was among them?"

"Yes, I observed it. "

"How many letters did your Grace write that day?"

"Twenty or thirty. I have a large correspondence. But surely this issomewhat irrelevant?"

"Not entirely, " said Holmes. 

"For my own part, " the Duke continued, "I have advised the police toturn their attention to the south of France. I have already said that Ido not believe that the Duchess would encourage so monstrous an action, but the lad had the most wrong-headed opinions, and it is possible thathe may have fled to her, aided and abetted by this German. I think, Dr. Huxtable, that we will now return to the Hall. "

I could see that there were other questions which Holmes would havewished to put, but the nobleman's abrupt manner showed that theinterview was at an end. It was evident that to his intenselyaristocratic nature this discussion of his intimate family affairswith a stranger was most abhorrent, and that he feared lest everyfresh question would throw a fiercer light into the discreetly shadowedcorners of his ducal history. 

When the nobleman and his secretary had left, my friend flung himself atonce with characteristic eagerness into the investigation. 

The boy's chamber was carefully examined, and yielded nothing save theabsolute conviction that it was only through the window that he couldhave escaped. The German master's room and effects gave no further clue. In his case a trailer of ivy had given way under his weight, and we sawby the light of a lantern the mark on the lawn where his heels had comedown. That one dint in the short, green grass was the only materialwitness left of this inexplicable nocturnal flight. 

Sherlock Holmes left the house alone, and only returned after eleven. He had obtained a large ordnance map of the neighbourhood, and thishe brought into my room, where he laid it out on the bed, and, havingbalanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smoke over it, andoccasionally to point out objects of interest with the reeking amber ofhis pipe. 

"This case grows upon me, Watson, " said he. "There are decidedly somepoints of interest in connection with it. In this early stage, I wantyou to realize those geographical features which may have a good deal todo with our investigation. 

"Look at this map. This dark square is the Priory School. I'll put a pinin it. Now, this line is the main road. You see that it runs east andwest past the school, and you see also that there is no side road fora mile either way. If these two folk passed away by road, it was THISroad. "

GRAPHIC

"Exactly. "

"By a singular and happy chance, we are able to some extent to checkwhat passed along this road during the night in question. At this point, where my pipe is now resting, a county constable was on duty from twelveto six. It is, as you perceive, the first cross-road on the east side. This man declares that he was not absent from his post for an instant, and he is positive that neither boy nor man could have gone that wayunseen. I have spoken with this policeman to-night and he appears to meto be a perfectly reliable person. That blocks this end. We have now todeal with the other. There is an inn here, the Red Bull, the landladyof which was ill. She had sent to Mackleton for a doctor, but he did notarrive until morning, being absent at another case. The people at theinn were alert all night, awaiting his coming, and one or other of themseems to have continually had an eye upon the road. They declare that noone passed. If their evidence is good, then we are fortunate enough tobe able to block the west, and also to be able to say that the fugitivesdid NOT use the road at all. "

"But the bicycle?" I objected. 

"Quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently. To continue ourreasoning: if these people did not go by the road, they must havetraversed the country to the north of the house or to the south of thehouse. That is certain. Let us weigh the one against the other. On thesouth of the house is, as you perceive, a large district of arable land, cut up into small fields, with stone walls between them. There, I admitthat a bicycle is impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn to thecountry on the north. Here there lies a grove of trees, marked as the'Ragged Shaw, ' and on the farther side stretches a great rolling moor, Lower Gill Moor, extending for ten miles and sloping gradually upward. Here, at one side of this wilderness, is Holdernesse Hall, ten miles byroad, but only six across the moor. It is a peculiarly desolate plain. Afew moor farmers have small holdings, where they rear sheep and cattle. Except these, the plover and the curlew are the only inhabitants untilyou come to the Chesterfield high road. There is a church there, you see, a few cottages, and an inn. Beyond that the hills becomeprecipitous. Surely it is here to the north that our quest must lie. "

"But the bicycle?" I persisted. 

"Well, well!" said Holmes, impatiently. "A good cyclist does not need ahigh road. The moor is intersected with paths, and the moon was at thefull. Halloa! what is this?"

There was an agitated knock at the door, and an instant afterwards Dr. Huxtable was in the room. In his hand he held a blue cricket-cap with awhite chevron on the peak. 

"At last we have a clue!" he cried. "Thank heaven! at last we are on thedear boy's track! It is his cap. "

"Where was it found?"

"In the van of the gipsies who camped on the moor. They left on Tuesday. To-day the police traced them down and examined their caravan. This wasfound. "

"How do they account for it?"

"They shuffled and lied--said that they found it on the moor on Tuesdaymorning. They know where he is, the rascals! Thank goodness, they areall safe under lock and key. Either the fear of the law or the Duke'spurse will certainly get out of them all that they know. "

"So far, so good, " said Holmes, when the doctor had at last left theroom. "It at least bears out the theory that it is on the side of theLower Gill Moor that we must hope for results. The police have reallydone nothing locally, save the arrest of these gipsies. Look here, Watson! There is a watercourse across the moor. You see it marked herein the map. In some parts it widens into a morass. This is particularlyso in the region between Holdernesse Hall and the school. It is vain tolook elsewhere for tracks in this dry weather, but at THAT point thereis certainly a chance of some record being left. I will call you earlyto-morrow morning, and you and I will try if we can throw some littlelight upon the mystery. "

The day was just breaking when I woke to find the long, thin form ofHolmes by my bedside. He was fully dressed, and had apparently alreadybeen out. 

"I have done the lawn and the bicycle shed, " said, he. "I have also hada rumble through the Ragged Shaw. Now, Watson, there is cocoa ready inthe next room. I must beg you to hurry, for we have a great day beforeus. "

His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration of themaster workman who sees his work lie ready before him. A very differentHolmes, this active, alert man, from the introspective and palliddreamer of Baker Street. I felt, as I looked upon that supple, figure, alive with nervous energy, that it was indeed a strenuous day thatawaited us. 

And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. With high hopes westruck across the peaty, russet moor, intersected with a thousand sheeppaths, until we came to the broad, light-green belt which marked themorass between us and Holdernesse. Certainly, if the lad had gonehomeward, he must have passed this, and he could not pass it withoutleaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. Witha darkening face my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observantof every muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep-marks there werein profusion, and at one place, some miles down, cows had left theirtracks. Nothing more. 

"Check number one, " said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rollingexpanse of the moor. "There is another morass down yonder, and a narrowneck between. Halloa! halloa! halloa! what have we here?"

We had come on a small black ribbon of pathway. In the middle of it, clearly marked on the sodden soil, was the track of a bicycle. 

"Hurrah!" I cried. "We have it. "

But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face was puzzled and expectantrather than joyous. 

"A bicycle, certainly, but not THE bicycle, " said he. "I am familiarwith forty-two different impressions left by tires. This, as youperceive, is a Dunlop, with a patch upon the outer cover. Heidegger'stires were Palmer's, leaving longitudinal stripes. Aveling, themathematical master, was sure upon the point. Therefore, it is notHeidegger's track. "

"The boy's, then?"

"Possibly, if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession. But this we have utterly failed to do. This track, as you perceive, wasmade by a rider who was going from the direction of the school. "

"Or towards it?"

"No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is, of course, the hind wheel, upon which the weight rests. You perceive several placeswhere it has passed across and obliterated the more shallow mark of thefront one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school. It may ormay not be connected with our inquiry, but we will follow it backwardsbefore we go any farther. "

We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks aswe emerged from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the pathbackwards, we picked out another spot, where a spring trickled acrossit. Here, once again, was the mark of the bicycle, though nearlyobliterated by the hoofs of cows. After that there was no sign, butthe path ran right on into Ragged Shaw, the wood which backed on to theschool. From this wood the cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down ona boulder and rested his chin in his hands. I had smoked two cigarettesbefore he moved. 

"Well, well, " said he, at last. "It is, of course, possible that acunning man might change the tires of his bicycle in order to leaveunfamiliar tracks. A criminal who was capable of such a thought is a manwhom I should be proud to do business with. We will leave this questionundecided and hark back to our morass again, for we have left a gooddeal unexplored. "

We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portionof the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously rewarded. Rightacross the lower part of the bog lay a miry path. Holmes gave a cryof delight as he approached it. An impression like a fine bundle oftelegraph wires ran down the centre of it. It was the Palmer tires. 

"Here is Herr Heidegger, sure enough!" cried Holmes, exultantly. "Myreasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson. "

"I congratulate you. "

"But we have a long way still to go. Kindly walk clear of the path. Nowlet us follow the trail. I fear that it will not lead very far. "

We found, however, as we advanced that this portion of the moor isintersected with soft patches, and, though we frequently lost sight ofthe track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more. 

"Do you observe, " said Holmes, "that the rider is now undoubtedlyforcing the pace? There can be no doubt of it. Look at this impression, where you get both tires clear. The one is as deep as the other. That can only mean that the rider is throwing his weight on to thehandle-bar, as a man does when he is sprinting. By Jove! he has had afall. "

There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the track. Then there were a few footmarks, and the tire reappeared once more. 

"A side-slip, " I suggested. 

Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horror Iperceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled with crimson. On thepath, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood. 

"Bad!" said Holmes. "Bad! Stand clear, Watson! Not an unnecessaryfootstep! What do I read here? He fell wounded--he stood up--heremounted--he proceeded. But there is no other track. Cattle on thisside path. He was surely not gored by a bull? Impossible! But I see notraces of anyone else. We must push on, Watson. Surely, with stains aswell as the track to guide us, he cannot escape us now. "

Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tire began tocurve fantastically upon the wet and shining path. Suddenly, as Ilooked ahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thickgorse-bushes. Out of them we dragged a bicycle, Palmer-tired, one pedalbent, and the whole front of it horribly smeared and slobbered withblood. On the other side of the bushes a shoe was projecting. Weran round, and there lay the unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, full-bearded, with spectacles, one glass of which had been knocked out. The cause of his death was a frightful blow upon the head, which hadcrushed in part of his skull. That he could have gone on after receivingsuch an injury said much for the vitality and courage of the man. Hewore shoes, but no socks, and his open coat disclosed a nightshirtbeneath it. It was undoubtedly the German master. 

Holmes turned the body over reverently, and examined it with greatattention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could seeby his ruffled brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion, advanced us much in our inquiry. 

"It is a little difficult to know what to do, Watson, " said he, at last. "My own inclinations are to push this inquiry on, for we have alreadylost so much time that we cannot afford to waste another hour. On theother hand, we are bound to inform the police of the discovery, and tosee that this poor fellow's body is looked after. "

"I could take a note back. "

"But I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit! There is a fellowcutting peat up yonder. Bring him over here, and he will guide thepolice. "

I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the frightened manwith a note to Dr. Huxtable. 

"Now, Watson, " said he, "we have picked up two clues this morning. Oneis the bicycle with the Palmer tire, and we see what that has led to. The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start toinvestigate that, let us try to realize what we do know, so as to makethe most of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental. "

"First of all, I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left ofhis own free-will. He got down from his window and he went off, eitheralone or with someone. That is sure. "

I assented. 

"Well, now, let us turn to this unfortunate German master. The boy wasfully dressed when he fled. Therefore, he foresaw what he would do. But the German went without his socks. He certainly acted on very shortnotice. "

"Undoubtedly. "

"Why did he go? Because, from his bedroom window, he saw the flight ofthe boy, because he wished to overtake him and bring him back. He seizedhis bicycle, pursued the lad, and in pursuing him met his death. "

"So it would seem. "

"Now I come to the critical part of my argument. The natural action ofa man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him. He would knowthat he could overtake him. But the German does not do so. He turns tohis bicycle. I am told that he was an excellent cyclist. He would not dothis, if he did not see that the boy had some swift means of escape. "

"The other bicycle. "

"Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five milesfrom the school--not by a bullet, mark you, which even a lad mightconceivably discharge, but by a savage blow dealt by a vigorous arm. The lad, then, HAD a companion in his flight. And the flight was a swiftone, since it took five miles before an expert cyclist could overtakethem. Yet we survey the ground round the scene of the tragedy. What dowe find? A few cattle-tracks, nothing more. I took a wide sweep round, and there is no path within fifty yards. Another cyclist could havehad nothing to do with the actual murder, nor were there any humanfoot-marks. "

"Holmes, " I cried, "this is impossible. "

"Admirable!" he said. "A most illuminating remark. It IS impossible as Istate it, and therefore I must in some respect have stated it wrong. Yetyou saw for yourself. Can you suggest any fallacy?"

"He could not have fractured his skull in a fall?"

"In a morass, Watson?"

"I am at my wit's end. "

"Tut, tut, we have solved some worse problems. At least we have plentyof material, if we can only use it. Come, then, and, having exhaustedthe Palmer, let us see what the Dunlop with the patched cover has tooffer us. "

We picked up the track and followed it onward for some distance, butsoon the moor rose into a long, heather-tufted curve, and we left thewatercourse behind us. No further help from tracks could be hoped for. At the spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tire it might equallyhave led to Holdernesse Hall, the stately towers of which rose somemiles to our left, or to a low, gray village which lay in front of usand marked the position of the Chesterfield high road. 

As we approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with the sign of agame-cock above the door, Holmes gave a sudden groan, and clutched meby the shoulder to save himself from falling. He had had one of thoseviolent strains of the ankle which leave a man helpless. With difficultyhe limped up to the door, where a squat, dark, elderly man was smoking ablack clay pipe. 

"How are you, Mr. Reuben Hayes?" said Holmes. 

"Who are you, and how do you get my name so pat?" the countrymananswered, with a suspicious flash of a pair of cunning eyes. 

"Well, it's printed on the board above your head. It's easy to see a manwho is master of his own house. I suppose you haven't such a thing as acarriage in your stables?"

"No, I have not. "

"I can hardly put my foot to the ground. "

"Don't put it to the ground. "

"But I can't walk. "

"Well, then hop. "

Mr. Reuben Hayes's manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took it withadmirable good-humour. 

"Look here, my man, " said he. "This is really rather an awkward fix forme. I don't mind how I get on. "

"Neither do I, " said the morose landlord. 

"The matter is very important. I would offer you a sovereign for the useof a bicycle. "

The landlord pricked up his ears. 

"Where do you want to go?"

"To Holdernesse Hall. "

"Pals of the Dook, I suppose?" said the landlord, surveying ourmud-stained garments with ironical eyes. 

Holmes laughed good-naturedly. 

"He'll be glad to see us, anyhow. "

"Why?"

"Because we bring him news of his lost son. "

The landlord gave a very visible start. 

"What, you're on his track?"

"He has been heard of in Liverpool. They expect to get him every hour. "

Again a swift change passed over the heavy, unshaven face. His mannerwas suddenly genial. 

"I've less reason to wish the Dook well than most men, " said he, "forI was head coachman once, and cruel bad he treated me. It was him thatsacked me without a character on the word of a lying corn-chandler. ButI'm glad to hear that the young lord was heard of in Liverpool, and I'llhelp you to take the news to the Hall. "

"Thank you, " said Holmes. "We'll have some food first. Then you can bringround the bicycle. "

"I haven't got a bicycle. "

Holmes held up a sovereign. 

"I tell you, man, that I haven't got one. I'll let you have two horsesas far as the Hall. "

"Well, well, " said Holmes, "we'll talk about it when we've had somethingto eat. "

When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchen, it was astonishinghow rapidly that sprained ankle recovered. It was nearly nightfall, andwe had eaten nothing since early morning, so that we spent some timeover our meal. Holmes was lost in thought, and once or twice he walkedover to the window and stared earnestly out. It opened on to a squalidcourtyard. In the far corner was a smithy, where a grimy lad was atwork. On the other side were the stables. Holmes had sat down againafter one of these excursions, when he suddenly sprang out of his chairwith a loud exclamation. 

"By heaven, Watson, I believe that I've got it!" he cried. "Yes, yes, itmust be so. Watson, do you remember seeing any cow-tracks to-day?"

"Yes, several. "

"Where?"

"Well, everywhere. They were at the morass, and again on the path, andagain near where poor Heidegger met his death. "

"Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on the moor?"

"I don't remember seeing any. "

"Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, butnever a cow on the whole moor. Very strange, Watson, eh?"

"Yes, it is strange. "

"Now, Watson, make an effort, throw your mind back. Can you see thosetracks upon the path?"

"Yes, I can. "

"Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes like that, Watson, "--hearranged a number of bread-crumbs in this fashion--: : : : :--"andsometimes like this"--: . : . : . : . --"and occasionally like this"--. :. : . : . "Can you remember that?"

"No, I cannot. "

"But I can. I could swear to it. However, we will go back at ourleisure and verify it. What a blind beetle I have been, not to draw myconclusion. "

"And what is your conclusion?"

"Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters, and gallops. ByGeorge! Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that thought outsuch a blind as that. The coast seems to be clear, save for that lad inthe smithy. Let us slip out and see what we can see. "

There were two rough-haired, unkempt horses in the tumble-down stable. Holmes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud. 

"Old shoes, but newly shod--old shoes, but new nails. This case deservesto be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy. "

The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes's eyedarting to right and left among the litter of iron and wood which wasscattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we heard a step behindus, and there was the landlord, his heavy eyebrows drawn over his savageeyes, his swarthy features convulsed with passion. He held a short, metal-headed stick in his hand, and he advanced in so menacing a fashionthat I was right glad to feel the revolver in my pocket. 

"You infernal spies!" the man cried. "What are you doing there?"

"Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes, " said Holmes, coolly, "one might think that youwere afraid of our finding something out. "

The man mastered himself with a violent effort, and his grim mouthloosened into a false laugh, which was more menacing than his frown. 

"You're welcome to all you can find out in my smithy, " said he. "Butlook here, mister, I don't care for folk poking about my place withoutmy leave, so the sooner you pay your score and get out of this thebetter I shall be pleased. "

"All right, Mr. Hayes, no harm meant, " said Holmes. "We have been havinga look at your horses, but I think I'll walk, after all. It's not far, Ibelieve. "

"Not more than two miles to the Hall gates. That's the road to theleft. " He watched us with sullen eyes until we had left his premises. 

We did not go very far along the road, for Holmes stopped the instantthat the curve hid us from the landlord's view. 

"We were warm, as the children say, at that inn, " said he. "I seemto grow colder every step that I take away from it. No, no, I can'tpossibly leave it. "

"I am convinced, " said I, "that this Reuben Hayes knows all about it. Amore self-evident villain I never saw. "

"Oh! he impressed you in that way, did he? There are the horses, thereis the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting place, this Fighting Cock. Ithink we shall have another look at it in an unobtrusive way. "

A long, sloping hillside, dotted with gray limestone boulders, stretchedbehind us. We had turned off the road, and were making our way upthe hill, when, looking in the direction of Holdernesse Hall, I saw acyclist coming swiftly along. 

"Get down, Watson!" cried Holmes, with a heavy hand upon my shoulder. Wehad hardly sunk from view when the man flew past us on the road. Amida rolling cloud of dust, I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitated face--aface with horror in every lineament, the mouth open, the eyes staringwildly in front. It was like some strange caricature of the dapper JamesWilder whom we had seen the night before. 

"The Duke's secretary!" cried Holmes. "Come, Watson, let us see what hedoes. "

We scrambled from rock to rock, until in a few moments we had madeour way to a point from which we could see the front door of the inn. Wilder's bicycle was leaning against the wall beside it. No one wasmoving about the house, nor could we catch a glimpse of any faces at thewindows. Slowly the twilight crept down as the sun sank behind thehigh towers of Holdernesse Hall. Then, in the gloom, we saw the twoside-lamps of a trap light up in the stable-yard of the inn, and shortlyafterwards heard the rattle of hoofs, as it wheeled out into the roadand tore off at a furious pace in the direction of Chesterfield. 

"What do you make of that, Watson?" Holmes whispered. 

"It looks like a flight. "

"A single man in a dog-cart, so far as I could see. Well, it certainlywas not Mr. James Wilder, for there he is at the door. "

A red square of light had sprung out of the darkness. In the middle ofit was the black figure of the secretary, his head advanced, peering outinto the night. It was evident that he was expecting someone. Then atlast there were steps in the road, a second figure was visible for aninstant against the light, the door shut, and all was black once more. Five minutes later a lamp was lit in a room upon the first floor. 

"It seems to be a curious class of custom that is done by the FightingCock, " said Holmes. 

"The bar is on the other side. "

"Quite so. These are what one may call the private guests. Now, what inthe world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at this hour of night, and who is the companion who comes to meet him there? Come, Watson, we must really take a risk and try to investigate this a little moreclosely. "

Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of theinn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall. Holmes struck a matchand held it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fellupon a patched Dunlop tire. Up above us was the lighted window. 

"I must have a peep through that, Watson. If you bend your back andsupport yourself upon the wall, I think that I can manage. "

An instant later, his feet were on my shoulders, but he was hardly upbefore he was down again. 

"Come, my friend, " said he, "our day's work has been quite long enough. I think that we have gathered all that we can. It's a long walk to theschool, and the sooner we get started the better. "

He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, norwould he enter the school when he reached it, but went on to MackletonStation, whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard himconsoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master's death, and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as he had beenwhen he started in the morning. "All goes well, my friend, " said he. "Ipromise that before to-morrow evening we shall have reached the solutionof the mystery. "

At eleven o'clock next morning my friend and I were walking up thefamous yew avenue of Holdernesse Hall. We were ushered through themagnificent Elizabethan doorway and into his Grace's study. There wefound Mr. James Wilder, demure and courtly, but with some trace of thatwild terror of the night before still lurking in his furtive eyes and inhis twitching features. 

"You have come to see his Grace? I am sorry, but the fact is that theDuke is far from well. He has been very much upset by the tragic news. We received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable yesterday afternoon, which toldus of your discovery. "

"I must see the Duke, Mr. Wilder. "

"But he is in his room. "

"Then I must go to his room. "

"I believe he is in his bed. "

"I will see him there. "

Holmes's cold and inexorable manner showed the secretary that it wasuseless to argue with him. 

"Very good, Mr. Holmes, I will tell him that you are here. "

After an hour's delay, the great nobleman appeared. His face was morecadaverous than ever, his shoulders had rounded, and he seemed to meto be an altogether older man than he had been the morning before. Hegreeted us with a stately courtesy and seated himself at his desk, hisred beard streaming down on the table. 

"Well, Mr. Holmes?" said he. 

But my friend's eyes were fixed upon the secretary, who stood by hismaster's chair. 

"I think, your Grace, that I could speak more freely in Mr. Wilder'sabsence. "

The man turned a shade paler and cast a malignant glance at Holmes. 

"If your Grace wishes----"

"Yes, yes, you had better go. Now, Mr. Holmes, what have you to say?"

My friend waited until the door had closed behind the retreatingsecretary. 

"The fact is, your Grace, " said he, "that my colleague, Dr. Watson, andmyself had an assurance from Dr. Huxtable that a reward had been offeredin this case. I should like to have this confirmed from your own lips. "

"Certainly, Mr. Holmes. "

"It amounted, if I am correctly informed, to five thousand pounds toanyone who will tell you where your son is?"

"Exactly. "

"And another thousand to the man who will name the person or persons whokeep him in custody?"

"Exactly. "

"Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those whomay have taken him away, but also those who conspire to keep him in hispresent position?"

"Yes, yes, " cried the Duke, impatiently. "If you do your work well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you will have no reason to complain of niggardlytreatment. "

My friend rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance of aviditywhich was a surprise to me, who knew his frugal tastes. 

"I fancy that I see your Grace's check-book upon the table, " said he. "Ishould be glad if you would make me out a check for six thousand pounds. It would be as well, perhaps, for you to cross it. The Capital andCounties Bank, Oxford Street branch are my agents. "

His Grace sat very stern and upright in his chair and looked stonily atmy friend. 

"Is this a joke, Mr. Holmes? It is hardly a subject for pleasantry. "

"Not at all, your Grace. I was never more earnest in my life. "

"What do you mean, then?"

"I mean that I have earned the reward. I know where your son is, and Iknow some, at least, of those who are holding him. "

The Duke's beard had turned more aggressively red than ever against hisghastly white face. 

"Where is he?" he gasped. 

"He is, or was last night, at the Fighting Cock Inn, about two milesfrom your park gate. "

The Duke fell back in his chair. 

"And whom do you accuse?"

Sherlock Holmes's answer was an astounding one. He stepped swiftlyforward and touched the Duke upon the shoulder. 

"I accuse YOU, " said he. "And now, your Grace, I'll trouble you for thatcheck. "

Never shall I forget the Duke's appearance as he sprang up and clawedwith his hands, like one who is sinking into an abyss. Then, with anextraordinary effort of aristocratic self-command, he sat down and sankhis face in his hands. It was some minutes before he spoke. 

"How much do you know?" he asked at last, without raising his head. 

"I saw you together last night. "

"Does anyone else beside your friend know?"

"I have spoken to no one. "

The Duke took a pen in his quivering fingers and opened his check-book. 

"I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes. I am about to write yourcheck, however unwelcome the information which you have gained may beto me. When the offer was first made, I little thought the turn whichevents might take. But you and your friend are men of discretion, Mr. Holmes?"

"I hardly understand your Grace. "

"I must put it plainly, Mr. Holmes. If only you two know of thisincident, there is no reason why it should go any farther. I thinktwelve thousand pounds is the sum that I owe you, is it not?"

But Holmes smiled and shook his head. 

"I fear, your Grace, that matters can hardly be arranged so easily. There is the death of this schoolmaster to be accounted for. "

"But James knew nothing of that. You cannot hold him responsible forthat. It was the work of this brutal ruffian whom he had the misfortuneto employ. "

"I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks upon a crime, he is morally guilty of any other crime which may spring from it. "

"Morally, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right. But surely not in the eyesof the law. A man cannot be condemned for a murder at which he was notpresent, and which he loathes and abhors as much as you do. The instantthat he heard of it he made a complete confession to me, so filled washe with horror and remorse. He lost not an hour in breaking entirelywith the murderer. Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him--you must savehim! I tell you that you must save him!" The Duke had dropped the lastattempt at self-command, and was pacing the room with a convulsed faceand with his clenched hands raving in the air. At last he masteredhimself and sat down once more at his desk. "I appreciate your conductin coming here before you spoke to anyone else, " said he. "At least, wemay take counsel how far we can minimize this hideous scandal. "

"Exactly, " said Holmes. "I think, your Grace, that this can only be doneby absolute frankness between us. I am disposed to help your Grace tothe best of my ability, but, in order to do so, I must understand to thelast detail how the matter stands. I realize that your words applied toMr. James Wilder, and that he is not the murderer. "

"No, the murderer has escaped. "

Sherlock Holmes smiled demurely. 

"Your Grace can hardly have heard of any small reputation which Ipossess, or you would not imagine that it is so easy to escape me. Mr. Reuben Hayes was arrested at Chesterfield, on my information, at eleveno'clock last night. I had a telegram from the head of the local policebefore I left the school this morning. "

The Duke leaned back in his chair and stared with amazement at myfriend. 

"You seem to have powers that are hardly human, " said he. "So ReubenHayes is taken? I am right glad to hear it, if it will not react uponthe fate of James. "

"Your secretary?"

"No, sir, my son. "

It was Holmes's turn to look astonished. 

"I confess that this is entirely new to me, your Grace. I must beg youto be more explicit. "

"I will conceal nothing from you. I agree with you that completefrankness, however painful it may be to me, is the best policy in thisdesperate situation to which James's folly and jealousy have reducedus. When I was a very young man, Mr. Holmes, I loved with such a loveas comes only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but sherefused it on the grounds that such a match might mar my career. Had shelived, I would certainly never have married anyone else. She died, andleft this one child, whom for her sake I have cherished and cared for. I could not acknowledge the paternity to the world, but I gave him thebest of educations, and since he came to manhood I have kept him nearmy person. He surmised my secret, and has presumed ever since upon theclaim which he has upon me, and upon his power of provoking a scandalwhich would be abhorrent to me. His presence had something to dowith the unhappy issue of my marriage. Above all, he hated my younglegitimate heir from the first with a persistent hatred. You may wellask me why, under these circumstances, I still kept James under my roof. I answer that it was because I could see his mother's face in his, andthat for her dear sake there was no end to my long-suffering. All herpretty ways too--there was not one of them which he could not suggestand bring back to my memory. I COULD not send him away. But I feared somuch lest he should do Arthur--that is, Lord Saltire--a mischief, that Idispatched him for safety to Dr. Huxtable's school. 

"James came into contact with this fellow Hayes, because the man was atenant of mine, and James acted as agent. The fellow was a rascal fromthe beginning, but, in some extraordinary way, James became intimatewith him. He had always a taste for low company. When James determinedto kidnap Lord Saltire, it was of this man's service that he availedhimself. You remember that I wrote to Arthur upon that last day. Well, James opened the letter and inserted a note asking Arthur to meet himin a little wood called the Ragged Shaw, which is near to the school. He used the Duchess's name, and in that way got the boy to come. Thatevening James bicycled over--I am telling you what he has himselfconfessed to me--and he told Arthur, whom he met in the wood, that hismother longed to see him, that she was awaiting him on the moor, andthat if he would come back into the wood at midnight he would find a manwith a horse, who would take him to her. Poor Arthur fell into the trap. He came to the appointment, and found this fellow Hayes with a led pony. Arthur mounted, and they set off together. It appears--though this Jamesonly heard yesterday--that they were pursued, that Hayes struck thepursuer with his stick, and that the man died of his injuries. Hayesbrought Arthur to his public-house, the Fighting Cock, where he wasconfined in an upper room, under the care of Mrs. Hayes, who is a kindlywoman, but entirely under the control of her brutal husband. 

"Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first saw youtwo days ago. I had no more idea of the truth than you. You will ask mewhat was James's motive in doing such a deed. I answer that there wasa great deal which was unreasoning and fanatical in the hatred whichhe bore my heir. In his view he should himself have been heir of allmy estates, and he deeply resented those social laws which made itimpossible. At the same time, he had a definite motive also. He waseager that I should break the entail, and he was of opinion that it layin my power to do so. He intended to make a bargain with me--to restoreArthur if I would break the entail, and so make it possible for theestate to be left to him by will. He knew well that I should neverwillingly invoke the aid of the police against him. I say that he wouldhave proposed such a bargain to me, but he did not actually do so, forevents moved too quickly for him, and he had not time to put his plansinto practice. 

"What brought all his wicked scheme to wreck was your discovery of thisman Heidegger's dead body. James was seized with horror at the news. Itcame to us yesterday, as we sat together in this study. Dr. Huxtable hadsent a telegram. James was so overwhelmed with grief and agitation thatmy suspicions, which had never been entirely absent, rose instantly toa certainty, and I taxed him with the deed. He made a complete voluntaryconfession. Then he implored me to keep his secret for three dayslonger, so as to give his wretched accomplice a chance of saving hisguilty life. I yielded--as I have always yielded--to his prayers, andinstantly James hurried off to the Fighting Cock to warn Hayes andgive him the means of flight. I could not go there by daylight withoutprovoking comment, but as soon as night fell I hurried off to see mydear Arthur. I found him safe and well, but horrified beyond expressionby the dreadful deed he had witnessed. In deference to my promise, andmuch against my will, I consented to leave him there for three days, under the charge of Mrs. Hayes, since it was evident that it wasimpossible to inform the police where he was without telling them alsowho was the murderer, and I could not see how that murderer could bepunished without ruin to my unfortunate James. You asked for frankness, Mr. Holmes, and I have taken you at your word, for I have now told youeverything without an attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Do youin turn be as frank with me. "

"I will, " said Holmes. "In the first place, your Grace, I am bound totell you that you have placed yourself in a most serious position inthe eyes of the law. You have condoned a felony, and you have aided theescape of a murderer, for I cannot doubt that any money which was takenby James Wilder to aid his accomplice in his flight came from yourGrace's purse. "

The Duke bowed his assent. 

"This is, indeed, a most serious matter. Even more culpable in myopinion, your Grace, is your attitude towards your younger son. Youleave him in this den for three days. "

"Under solemn promises----"

"What are promises to such people as these? You have no guarantee thathe will not be spirited away again. To humour your guilty elder son, you have exposed your innocent younger son to imminent and unnecessarydanger. It was a most unjustifiable action. "

The proud lord of Holdernesse was not accustomed to be so rated inhis own ducal hall. The blood flushed into his high forehead, but hisconscience held him dumb. 

"I will help you, but on one condition only. It is that you ring for thefootman and let me give such orders as I like. "

Without a word, the Duke pressed the electric bell. A servant entered. 

"You will be glad to hear, " said Holmes, "that your young master isfound. It is the Duke's desire that the carriage shall go at once to theFighting Cock Inn to bring Lord Saltire home. 

"Now, " said Holmes, when the rejoicing lackey had disappeared, "havingsecured the future, we can afford to be more lenient with the past. I amnot in an official position, and there is no reason, so long as theends of justice are served, why I should disclose all that I know. As toHayes, I say nothing. The gallows awaits him, and I would do nothingto save him from it. What he will divulge I cannot tell, but I haveno doubt that your Grace could make him understand that it is to hisinterest to be silent. From the police point of view he will havekidnapped the boy for the purpose of ransom. If they do not themselvesfind it out, I see no reason why I should prompt them to take a broaderpoint of view. I would warn your Grace, however, that the continuedpresence of Mr. James Wilder in your household can only lead tomisfortune. "

"I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that he shallleave me forever, and go to seek his fortune in Australia. "

"In that case, your Grace, since you have yourself stated that anyunhappiness in your married life was caused by his presence I wouldsuggest that you make such amends as you can to the Duchess, andthat you try to resume those relations which have been so unhappilyinterrupted. "

"That also I have arranged, Mr. Holmes. I wrote to the Duchess thismorning. "

"In that case, " said Holmes, rising, "I think that my friend and I cancongratulate ourselves upon several most happy results from our littlevisit to the North. There is one other small point upon which I desiresome light. This fellow Hayes had shod his horses with shoes whichcounterfeited the tracks of cows. Was it from Mr. Wilder that he learnedso extraordinary a device?"

The Duke stood in thought for a moment, with a look of intense surpriseon his face. Then he opened a door and showed us into a large roomfurnished as a museum. He led the way to a glass case in a corner, andpointed to the inscription. 

"These shoes, " it ran, "were dug up in the moat of Holdernesse Hall. They are for the use of horses, but they are shaped below with a clovenfoot of iron, so as to throw pursuers off the track. They are supposedto have belonged to some of the marauding Barons of Holdernesse in theMiddle Ages. "

Holmes opened the case, and moistening his finger he passed it along theshoe. A thin film of recent mud was left upon his skin. 

"Thank you, " said he, as he replaced the glass. "It is the second mostinteresting object that I have seen in the North. "

"And the first?"

Holmes folded up his check and placed it carefully in his notebook. "Iam a poor man, " said he, as he patted it affectionately, and thrust itinto the depths of his inner pocket. 

THE ADVENTURE OF BLACK PETER

I have never known my friend to be in better form, both mental andphysical, than in the year '95. His increasing fame had brought with itan immense practice, and I should be guilty of an indiscretion if Iwere even to hint at the identity of some of the illustrious clients whocrossed our humble threshold in Baker Street. Holmes, however, like allgreat artists, lived for his art's sake, and, save in the case of theDuke of Holdernesse, I have seldom known him claim any large reward forhis inestimable services. So unworldly was he--or so capricious--thathe frequently refused his help to the powerful and wealthy where theproblem made no appeal to his sympathies, while he would devote weeks ofmost intense application to the affairs of some humble client whose casepresented those strange and dramatic qualities which appealed to hisimagination and challenged his ingenuity. 

In this memorable year '95, a curious and incongruous succession ofcases had engaged his attention, ranging from his famous investigationof the sudden death of Cardinal Tosca--an inquiry which was carriedout by him at the express desire of His Holiness the Pope--down tohis arrest of Wilson, the notorious canary-trainer, which removed aplague-spot from the East End of London. Close on the heels of thesetwo famous cases came the tragedy of Woodman's Lee, and the very obscurecircumstances which surrounded the death of Captain Peter Carey. Norecord of the doings of Mr. Sherlock Holmes would be complete which didnot include some account of this very unusual affair. 

During the first week of July, my friend had been absent so often andso long from our lodgings that I knew he had something on hand. The factthat several rough-looking men called during that time and inquired forCaptain Basil made me understand that Holmes was working somewhere underone of the numerous disguises and names with which he concealed his ownformidable identity. He had at least five small refuges in differentparts of London, in which he was able to change his personality. Hesaid nothing of his business to me, and it was not my habit to force aconfidence. The first positive sign which he gave me of the directionwhich his investigation was taking was an extraordinary one. He had goneout before breakfast, and I had sat down to mine when he strode into theroom, his hat upon his head and a huge barbed-headed spear tucked likean umbrella under his arm. 

"Good gracious, Holmes!" I cried. "You don't mean to say that you havebeen walking about London with that thing?"

"I drove to the butcher's and back. "

"The butcher's?"

"And I return with an excellent appetite. There can be no question, my dear Watson, of the value of exercise before breakfast. But I amprepared to bet that you will not guess the form that my exercise hastaken. "

"I will not attempt it. "

He chuckled as he poured out the coffee. 

"If you could have looked into Allardyce's back shop, you would haveseen a dead pig swung from a hook in the ceiling, and a gentleman inhis shirt sleeves furiously stabbing at it with this weapon. I was thatenergetic person, and I have satisfied myself that by no exertion of mystrength can I transfix the pig with a single blow. Perhaps you wouldcare to try?"

"Not for worlds. But why were you doing this?"

"Because it seemed to me to have an indirect bearing upon the mystery ofWoodman's Lee. Ah, Hopkins, I got your wire last night, and I have beenexpecting you. Come and join us. "

Our visitor was an exceedingly alert man, thirty years of age, dressedin a quiet tweed suit, but retaining the erect bearing of one who wasaccustomed to official uniform. I recognized him at once as StanleyHopkins, a young police inspector, for whose future Holmes had highhopes, while he in turn professed the admiration and respect of a pupilfor the scientific methods of the famous amateur. Hopkins's brow wasclouded, and he sat down with an air of deep dejection. 

"No, thank you, sir. I breakfasted before I came round. I spent thenight in town, for I came up yesterday to report. "

"And what had you to report?"

"Failure, sir, absolute failure. "

"You have made no progress?"

"None. "

"Dear me! I must have a look at the matter. "

"I wish to heavens that you would, Mr. Holmes. It's my first big chance, and I am at my wit's end. For goodness' sake, come down and lend me ahand. "

"Well, well, it just happens that I have already read all the availableevidence, including the report of the inquest, with some care. By theway, what do you make of that tobacco pouch, found on the scene of thecrime? Is there no clue there?"

Hopkins looked surprised. 

"It was the man's own pouch, sir. His initials were inside it. And itwas of sealskin, --and he was an old sealer. "

"But he had no pipe. "

"No, sir, we could find no pipe. Indeed, he smoked very little, and yethe might have kept some tobacco for his friends. "

"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 myinvestigation. However, my friend, Dr. Watson, knows nothing of thismatter, and I should be none the worse for hearing the sequence ofevents once more. Just give us some short sketches of the essentials. "

Stanley Hopkins drew a slip of paper from his pocket. 

"I have a few dates here which will give you the career of the dead man, Captain Peter Carey. He was born in '45--fifty years of age. He was amost daring and successful seal and whale fisher. In 1883 he commandedthe steam sealer SEA UNICORN, of Dundee. He had then had severalsuccessful voyages in succession, and in the following year, 1884, heretired. After that he travelled for some years, and finally he boughta small place called Woodman's Lee, near Forest Row, in Sussex. There hehas lived for six years, and there he died just a week ago to-day. 

"There were some most singular points about the man. In ordinarylife, he was a strict Puritan--a silent, gloomy fellow. His householdconsisted of his wife, his daughter, aged twenty, and two femaleservants. These last were continually changing, for it was never a verycheery situation, and sometimes it became past all bearing. The manwas an intermittent drunkard, and when he had the fit on him he was aperfect fiend. He has been known to drive his wife and daughter out ofdoors in the middle of the night and flog them through the park untilthe whole village outside the gates was aroused by their screams. 

"He was summoned once for a savage assault upon the old vicar, who hadcalled upon him to remonstrate with him upon his conduct. In short, Mr. Holmes, you would go far before you found a more dangerous man thanPeter Carey, and I have heard that he bore the same character when hecommanded his ship. He was known in the trade as Black Peter, and thename was given him, not only on account of his swarthy features and thecolour of his huge beard, but for the humours which were the terror ofall around him. I need not say that he was loathed and avoided by everyone of his neighbours, and that I have not heard one single word ofsorrow about his terrible end. 

"You must have read in the account of the inquest about the man's cabin, Mr. Holmes, but perhaps your friend here has not heard of it. He hadbuilt himself a wooden outhouse--he always called it the 'cabin'--a fewhundred yards from his house, and it was here that he slept every night. It was a little, single-roomed hut, sixteen feet by ten. He kept thekey in his pocket, made his own bed, cleaned it himself, and allowed noother foot to cross the threshold. There are small windows on each side, which were covered by curtains and never opened. One of these windowswas turned towards the high road, and when the light burned in it atnight the folk used to point it out to each other and wonder what BlackPeter was doing in there. That's the window, Mr. Holmes, which gave usone of the few bits of positive evidence that came out at the inquest. 

"You remember that a stonemason, named Slater, walking from Forest Rowabout one o'clock in the morning--two days before the murder--stoppedas he passed the grounds and looked at the square of light still shiningamong the trees. He swears that the shadow of a man's head turnedsideways was clearly visible on the blind, and that this shadow wascertainly not that of Peter Carey, whom he knew well. It was that of abearded man, but the beard was short and bristled forward in a way verydifferent from that of the captain. So he says, but he had been twohours in the public-house, and it is some distance from the road to thewindow. Besides, this refers to the Monday, and the crime was done uponthe Wednesday. 

"On the Tuesday, Peter Carey was in one of his blackest moods, flushedwith drink and as savage as a dangerous wild beast. He roamed about thehouse, and the women ran for it when they heard him coming. Late in theevening, he went down to his own hut. About two o'clock the followingmorning, his daughter, who slept with her window open, heard a mostfearful yell from that direction, but it was no unusual thing for him tobawl and shout when he was in drink, so no notice was taken. On risingat seven, one of the maids noticed that the door of the hut was open, but so great was the terror which the man caused that it was middaybefore anyone would venture down to see what had become of him. Peepinginto the open door, they saw a sight which sent them flying, with whitefaces, into the village. Within an hour, I was on the spot and had takenover the case. 

"Well, I have fairly steady nerves, as you know, Mr. Holmes, but I giveyou my word, that I got a shake when I put my head into that littlehouse. It was droning like a harmonium with the flies and bluebottles, and the floor and walls were like a slaughter-house. He had called it acabin, and a cabin it was, sure enough, for you would have thought thatyou were in a ship. There was a bunk at one end, a sea-chest, maps andcharts, a picture of the SEA UNICORN, a line of logbooks on a shelf, allexactly as one would expect to find it in a captain's room. And there, in the middle of it, was the man himself--his face twisted like a lostsoul in torment, and his great brindled beard stuck upward in his agony. Right through his broad breast a steel harpoon had been driven, and ithad sunk deep into the wood of the wall behind him. He was pinned like abeetle on a card. Of course, he was quite dead, and had been so from theinstant that he had uttered that last yell of agony. 

"I know your methods, sir, and I applied them. Before I permittedanything to be moved, I examined most carefully the ground outside, andalso the floor of the room. There were no footmarks. "

"Meaning that you saw none?"

"I assure you, sir, that there were none. "

"My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have neveryet seen one which was committed by a flying creature. As long as thecriminal remains upon two legs so long must there be some indentation, some abrasion, some trifling displacement which can be detected by thescientific searcher. It is incredible that this blood-bespattered roomcontained no trace which could have aided us. I understand, however, from the inquest that there were some objects which you failed tooverlook?"

The young inspector winced at my companion's ironical comments. 

"I was a fool not to call you in at the time Mr. Holmes. However, that'spast praying for now. Yes, there were several objects in the room whichcalled for special attention. One was the harpoon with which the deedwas committed. It had been snatched down from a rack on the wall. Twoothers remained there, and there was a vacant place for the third. On the stock was engraved 'SS. SEA UNICORN, Dundee. ' This seemed toestablish that the crime had been done in a moment of fury, and thatthe murderer had seized the first weapon which came in his way. The factthat the crime was committed at two in the morning, and yet PeterCarey was fully dressed, suggested that he had an appointment with themurderer, which is borne out by the fact that a bottle of rum and twodirty glasses stood upon the table. "

"Yes, " said Holmes; "I think that both inferences are permissible. Wasthere any other spirit but rum in the room?"

"Yes, there was a tantalus containing brandy and whisky on thesea-chest. It is of no importance to us, however, since the decanterswere full, and it had therefore not been used. "

"For all that, its presence has some significance, " said Holmes. "However, let us hear some more about the objects which do seem to youto bear upon the case. "

"There was this tobacco-pouch upon the table. "

"What part of the table?"

"It lay in the middle. It was of coarse sealskin--the straight-hairedskin, with a leather thong to bind it. Inside was 'P. C. ' on the flap. There was half an ounce of strong ship's tobacco in it. "

"Excellent! What more?"

Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drab-covered notebook. Theoutside was rough and worn, the leaves discoloured. On the first pagewere written the initials "J. H. N. " and the date "1883. " Holmes laidit on the table and examined it in his minute way, while Hopkins and Igazed over each shoulder. On the second page were the printed letters"C. P. R. , " and then came several sheets of numbers. Another heading was"Argentine, " another "Costa Rica, " and another "San Paulo, " each withpages of signs and figures after it. 

"What do you make of these?" asked Holmes. 

"They appear to be lists of Stock Exchange securities. I thought that'J. H. N. ' were the initials of a broker, and that 'C. P. R. ' may have beenhis client. "

"Try Canadian Pacific Railway, " said Holmes. 

Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth, and struck his thigh with hisclenched hand. 

"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 examinedthe old Stock Exchange lists, and I can find no one in 1883, either inthe house or among the outside brokers, whose initials correspond withthese. Yet I feel that the clue is the most important one that I hold. You will admit, Mr. Holmes, that there is a possibility that theseinitials are those of the second person who was present--in other words, of the murderer. I would also urge that the introduction into the caseof a document relating to large masses of valuable securities gives usfor the first time some indication of a motive for the crime. "

Sherlock Holmes's face showed that he was thoroughly taken aback by thisnew development. 

"I must admit both your points, " said he. "I confess that this notebook, which did not appear at the inquest, modifies any views which I may haveformed. I had come to a theory of the crime in which I can find noplace for this. Have you endeavoured to trace any of the securities herementioned?"

"Inquiries are now being made at the offices, but I fear that thecomplete register of the stockholders of these South American concernsis in South America, and that some weeks must elapse before we can tracethe shares. "

Holmes had been examining the cover of the notebook with his magnifyinglens. 

"Surely there is some discolouration here, " said he. 

"Yes, sir, it is a blood-stain. I told you that I picked the book offthe floor. "

"Was the blood-stain above or below?"

"On the side next the boards. "

"Which proves, of course, that the book was dropped after the crime wascommitted. "

"Exactly, Mr. Holmes. I appreciated that point, and I conjectured thatit was dropped by the murderer in his hurried flight. It lay near thedoor. "

"I suppose that none of these securities have been found among theproperty of the dead man?"

"No, sir. "

"Have you any reason to suspect robbery?"

"No, sir. Nothing seemed to have been touched. "

"Dear me, it is certainly a very interesting case. Then there was aknife, was there not?"

"A sheath-knife, still in its sheath. It lay at the feet of the deadman. Mrs. Carey has identified it as being her husband's property. "

Holmes was lost in thought for some time. 

"Well, " said he, at last, "I suppose I shall have to come out and have alook at it. "

Stanley Hopkins gave a cry of joy. 

"Thank you, sir. That will, indeed, be a weight off my mind. "

Holmes shook his finger at the inspector. 

"It would have been an easier task a week ago, " said he. "But even nowmy visit may not be entirely fruitless. Watson, if you can sparethe time, I should be very glad of your company. If you will call afour-wheeler, Hopkins, we shall be ready to start for Forest Row in aquarter of an hour. "

Alighting at the small wayside station, we drove for some miles throughthe remains of widespread woods, which were once part of thatgreat forest which for so long held the Saxon invaders at bay--theimpenetrable "weald, " for sixty years the bulwark of Britain. Vastsections of it have been cleared, for this is the seat of the firstiron-works of the country, and the trees have been felled to smelt theore. Now the richer fields of the North have absorbed the trade, andnothing save these ravaged groves and great scars in the earth show thework of the past. Here, in a clearing upon the green slope of a hill, stood a long, low, stone house, approached by a curving drive runningthrough the fields. Nearer the road, and surrounded on three sides bybushes, was a small outhouse, one window and the door facing in ourdirection. It was the scene of the murder. 

Stanley Hopkins led us first to the house, where he introduced us to ahaggard, gray-haired woman, the widow of the murdered man, whose gauntand deep-lined face, with the furtive look of terror in the depths ofher red-rimmed eyes, told of the years of hardship and ill-usage whichshe had endured. With her was her daughter, a pale, fair-haired girl, whose eyes blazed defiantly at us as she told us that she was glad thather father was dead, and that she blessed the hand which had struck himdown. It was a terrible household that Black Peter Carey had made forhimself, and it was with a sense of relief that we found ourselves inthe sunlight again and making our way along a path which had been wornacross the fields by the feet of the dead man. 

The outhouse was the simplest of dwellings, wooden-walled, shingle-roofed, one window beside the door and one on the farther side. Stanley Hopkins drew the key from his pocket and had stooped to thelock, when he paused with a look of attention and surprise upon hisface. 

"Someone has been tampering with it, " he said. 

There could be no doubt of the fact. The woodwork was cut, and thescratches showed white through the paint, as if they had been thatinstant done. Holmes had been examining the window. 

"Someone has tried to force this also. Whoever it was has failed to makehis way in. He must have been a very poor burglar. "

"This is a most extraordinary thing, " said the inspector, "I could swearthat these marks were not here yesterday evening. "

"Some curious person from the village, perhaps, " I suggested. 

"Very unlikely. Few of them would dare to set foot in the grounds, farless try to force their way into the cabin. What do you think of it, Mr. Holmes?"

"I think that fortune is very kind to us. "

"You mean that the person will come again?"

"It is very probable. He came expecting to find the door open. He triedto get in with the blade of a very small penknife. He could not manageit. What would he do?"

"Come again next night with a more useful tool. "

"So I should say. It will be our fault if we are not there to receivehim. Meanwhile, let me see the inside of the cabin. "

The traces of the tragedy had been removed, but the furniture within thelittle room still stood as it had been on the night of the crime. Fortwo hours, with most intense concentration, Holmes examined every objectin turn, but his face showed that his quest was not a successful one. Once only he paused in his patient investigation. 

"Have you taken anything off this shelf, Hopkins?"

"No, I have moved nothing. "

"Something has been taken. There is less dust in this corner of theshelf than elsewhere. It may have been a book lying on its side. It mayhave been a box. Well, well, I can do nothing more. Let us walk inthese beautiful woods, Watson, and give a few hours to the birds and theflowers. We shall meet you here later, Hopkins, and see if we can cometo closer quarters with the gentleman who has paid this visit in thenight. "

It was past eleven o'clock when we formed our little ambuscade. Hopkinswas for leaving the door of the hut open, but Holmes was of the opinionthat this would rouse the suspicions of the stranger. The lock was aperfectly simple one, and only a strong blade was needed to push itback. Holmes also suggested that we should wait, not inside the hut, but outside it, among the bushes which grew round the farther window. In this way we should be able to watch our man if he struck a light, andsee what his object was in this stealthy nocturnal visit. 

It was a long and melancholy vigil, and yet brought with it somethingof the thrill which the hunter feels when he lies beside the water-pool, and waits for the coming of the thirsty beast of prey. What savagecreature was it which might steal upon us out of the darkness? Was ita fierce tiger of crime, which could only be taken fighting hard withflashing fang and claw, or would it prove to be some skulking jackal, dangerous only to the weak and unguarded?

In absolute silence we crouched amongst the bushes, waiting for whatevermight come. At first the steps of a few belated villagers, or the soundof voices from the village, lightened our vigil, but one by one theseinterruptions died away, and an absolute stillness fell upon us, savefor the chimes of the distant church, which told us of the progress ofthe night, and for the rustle and whisper of a fine rain falling amidthe foliage which roofed us in. 

Half-past two had chimed, and it was the darkest hour which precedesthe dawn, when we all started as a low but sharp click came from thedirection of the gate. Someone had entered the drive. Again there was along silence, and I had begun to fear that it was a false alarm, whena stealthy step was heard upon the other side of the hut, and a momentlater a metallic scraping and clinking. The man was trying to force thelock. This time his skill was greater or his tool was better, for therewas a sudden snap and the creak of the hinges. Then a match was struck, and next instant the steady light from a candle filled the interior ofthe hut. Through the gauze curtain our eyes were all riveted upon thescene within. 

The nocturnal visitor was a young man, frail and thin, with a blackmoustache, which intensified the deadly pallor of his face. He could nothave been much above twenty years of age. I have never seen any humanbeing who appeared to be in such a pitiable fright, for his teeth werevisibly chattering, and he was shaking in every limb. He was dressedlike a gentleman, in Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers, with a cloth capupon his head. We watched him staring round with frightened eyes. Thenhe laid the candle-end upon the table and disappeared from our view intoone of the corners. He returned with a large book, one of the logbookswhich formed a line upon the shelves. Leaning on the table, he rapidlyturned over the leaves of this volume until he came to the entry whichhe sought. Then, with an angry gesture of his clenched hand, he closedthe book, replaced it in the corner, and put out the light. He hadhardly turned to leave the hut when Hopkin's hand was on the fellow'scollar, and I heard his loud gasp of terror as he understood that hewas taken. The candle was relit, and there was our wretched captive, shivering and cowering in the grasp of the detective. He sank down uponthe sea-chest, and looked helplessly from one of us to the other. 

"Now, my fine fellow, " said Stanley Hopkins, "who are you, and what doyou want here?"

The man pulled himself together, and faced us with an effort atself-composure. 

"You are detectives, I suppose?" said he. "You imagine I am connectedwith the death of Captain Peter Carey. I assure you that I am innocent. "

"We'll see about that, " said Hopkins. "First of all, what is your name?"

"It is John Hopley Neligan. "

I saw Holmes and Hopkins exchange a quick glance. 

"What are you doing here?"

"Can I speak confidentially?"

"No, certainly not. "

"Why should I tell you?"

"If you have no answer, it may go badly with you at the trial. "

The young man winced. 

"Well, I will tell you, " he said. "Why should I not? And yet I hate tothink of this old scandal gaining a new lease of life. Did you ever hearof Dawson and Neligan?"

I could see, from Hopkins's face, that he never had, but Holmes waskeenly interested. 

"You mean the West Country bankers, " said he. "They failed for amillion, ruined half the county families of Cornwall, and Neligandisappeared. "

"Exactly. Neligan was my father. "

At last we were getting something positive, and yet it seemed a long gapbetween an absconding banker and Captain Peter Carey pinned against thewall with one of his own harpoons. We all listened intently to the youngman's words. 

"It was my father who was really concerned. Dawson had retired. I wasonly ten years of age at the time, but I was old enough to feel theshame and horror of it all. It has always been said that my father stoleall the securities and fled. It is not true. It was his belief that ifhe were given time in which to realize them, all would be well and everycreditor paid in full. He started in his little yacht for Norway justbefore the warrant was issued for his arrest. I can remember that lastnight when he bade farewell to my mother. He left us a list of thesecurities he was taking, and he swore that he would come back with hishonour cleared, and that none who had trusted him would suffer. Well, no word was ever heard from him again. Both the yacht and he vanishedutterly. We believed, my mother and I, that he and it, with thesecurities that he had taken with him, were at the bottom of the sea. Wehad a faithful friend, however, who is a business man, and it was he whodiscovered some time ago that some of the securities which my fatherhad with him had reappeared on the London market. You can imagine ouramazement. I spent months in trying to trace them, and at last, aftermany doubtings and difficulties, I discovered that the original sellerhad been Captain Peter Carey, the owner of this hut. 

"Naturally, I made some inquiries about the man. I found that he hadbeen in command of a whaler which was due to return from the Arctic seasat the very time when my father was crossing to Norway. The autumn ofthat year was a stormy one, and there was a long succession of southerlygales. My father's yacht may well have been blown to the north, andthere met by Captain Peter Carey's ship. If that were so, what hadbecome of my father? In any case, if I could prove from Peter Carey'sevidence how these securities came on the market it would be a proofthat my father had not sold them, and that he had no view to personalprofit when he took them. 

"I came down to Sussex with the intention of seeing the captain, butit was at this moment that his terrible death occurred. I read at theinquest a description of his cabin, in which it stated that the oldlogbooks of his vessel were preserved in it. It struck me that if Icould see what occurred in the month of August, 1883, on board the SEAUNICORN, I might settle the mystery of my father's fate. I triedlast night to get at these logbooks, but was unable to open the door. To-night I tried again and succeeded, but I find that the pages whichdeal with that month have been torn from the book. It was at that momentI found myself a prisoner in your hands. "

"Is that all?" asked Hopkins. 

"Yes, that is all. " His eyes shifted as he said it. 

"You have nothing else to tell us?"

He hesitated. 

"No, there is nothing. "

"You have not been here before last night?"

"No. 

"Then how do you account for THAT?" cried Hopkins, as he held up thedamning notebook, with the initials of our prisoner on the first leafand the blood-stain on the cover. 

The wretched man collapsed. He sank his face in his hands, and trembledall over. 

"Where did you get it?" he groaned. "I did not know. I thought I hadlost it at the hotel. "

"That is enough, " said Hopkins, sternly. "Whatever else you have tosay, you must say in court. You will walk down with me now to thepolice-station. Well, Mr. Holmes, I am very much obliged to you and toyour friend for coming down to help me. As it turns out your presencewas unnecessary, and I would have brought the case to this successfulissue without you, but, none the less, I am grateful. Rooms have beenreserved for you at the Brambletye Hotel, so we can all walk down to thevillage together. "

"Well, Watson, what do you think of it?" asked Holmes, as we travelledback next morning. 

"I can see that you are not satisfied. "

"Oh, yes, my dear Watson, I am perfectly satisfied. At the sametime, Stanley Hopkins's methods do not commend themselves to me. I amdisappointed in Stanley Hopkins. I had hoped for better things from him. One should always look for a possible alternative, and provide againstit. It is the first rule of criminal investigation. "

"What, then, is the alternative?"

"The line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing. It maygive us nothing. I cannot tell. But at least I shall follow it to theend. "

Several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street. He snatchedone of them up, opened it, and burst out into a triumphant chuckle oflaughter. 

"Excellent, Watson! The alternative develops. Have you telegraphforms? Just write a couple of messages for me: 'Sumner, ShippingAgent, Ratcliff Highway. Send three men on, to arrive ten to-morrowmorning. --Basil. ' That's my name in those parts. The other is:'Inspector Stanley Hopkins, 46 Lord Street, Brixton. Come breakfastto-morrow at nine-thirty. Important. Wire if unable to come. --SherlockHolmes. ' There, Watson, this infernal case has haunted me for ten days. I hereby banish it completely from my presence. To-morrow, I trust thatwe shall hear the last of it forever. "

Sharp at the hour named Inspector Stanley Hopkins appeared, and we satdown together to the excellent breakfast which Mrs. Hudson had prepared. The young detective was in high spirits at his success. 

"You really think that your solution must be correct?" asked Holmes. 

"I could not imagine a more complete case. "

"It did not seem to me conclusive. "

"You astonish me, Mr. Holmes. What more could one ask for?"

"Does your explanation cover every point?"

"Undoubtedly. I find that young Neligan arrived at the Brambletye Hotelon the very day of the crime. He came on the pretence of playing golf. His room was on the ground-floor, and he could get out when he liked. That very night he went down to Woodman's Lee, saw Peter Carey atthe hut, quarrelled with him, and killed him with the harpoon. Then, horrified by what he had done, he fled out of the hut, dropping thenotebook which he had brought with him in order to question Peter Careyabout these different securities. You may have observed that some ofthem were marked with ticks, and the others--the great majority--werenot. Those which are ticked have been traced on the London market, butthe others, presumably, were still in the possession of Carey, and youngNeligan, according to his own account, was anxious to recover them inorder to do the right thing by his father's creditors. After his flighthe did not dare to approach the hut again for some time, but at lasthe forced himself to do so in order to obtain the information which heneeded. Surely that is all simple and obvious?"

Holmes smiled and shook his head. "It seems to me to have only onedrawback, Hopkins, and that is that it is intrinsically impossible. Haveyou tried to drive a harpoon through a body? No? Tut, tut my dear sir, you must really pay attention to these details. My friend Watson couldtell you that I spent a whole morning in that exercise. It is no easymatter, and requires a strong and practised arm. But this blow wasdelivered with such violence that the head of the weapon sank deepinto the wall. Do you imagine that this anaemic youth was capable of sofrightful an assault? Is he the man who hobnobbed in rum and water withBlack Peter in the dead of the night? Was it his profile that was seenon the blind two nights before? No, no, Hopkins, it is another and moreformidable person for whom we must seek. "

The detective's face had grown longer and longer during Holmes's speech. His hopes and his ambitions were all crumbling about him. But he wouldnot abandon his position without a struggle. 

"You can't deny that Neligan was present that night, Mr. Holmes. Thebook will prove that. I fancy that I have evidence enough to satisfy ajury, even if you are able to pick a hole in it. Besides, Mr. Holmes, I have laid my hand upon MY man. As to this terrible person of yours, where is he?"

"I rather fancy that he is on the stair, " said Holmes, serenely. "Ithink, Watson, that you would do well to put that revolver where you canreach it. " He rose and laid a written paper upon a side-table. "Now weare ready, " said he. 

There had been some talking in gruff voices outside, and now Mrs. Hudsonopened the door to say that there were three men inquiring for CaptainBasil. 

"Show them in one by one, " said Holmes. 

"The first who entered was a little Ribston pippin of a man, with ruddycheeks and fluffy white side-whiskers. Holmes had drawn a letter fromhis pocket. 

"What name?" he asked. 

"James Lancaster. "

"I am sorry, Lancaster, but the berth is full. Here is half a sovereignfor your trouble. Just step into this room and wait there for a fewminutes. "

The second man was a long, dried-up creature, with lank hair and sallowcheeks. His name was Hugh Pattins. He also received his dismissal, hishalf-sovereign, and the order to wait. 

The third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance. A fiercebull-dog face was framed in a tangle of hair and beard, and two bold, dark eyes gleamed behind the cover of thick, tufted, overhung eyebrows. He saluted and stood sailor-fashion, turning his cap round in his hands. 

"Your name?" asked Holmes. 

"Patrick Cairns. "

"Harpooner?"

"Yes, sir. Twenty-six voyages. "

"Dundee, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And ready to start with an exploring ship?"

"Yes, sir. "

"What wages?"

"Eight pounds a month. "

"Could you start at once?"

"As soon as I get my kit. "

"Have you your papers?"

"Yes, sir. " He took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from his pocket. Holmes glanced over them and returned them. 

"You are just the man I want, " said he. "Here's the agreement on theside-table. If you sign it the whole matter will be settled. "

The seaman lurched across the room and took up the pen. 

"Shall I sign here?" he asked, stooping over the table. 

Holmes leaned over his shoulder and passed both hands over his neck. 

"This will do, " said he. 

I heard a click of steel and a bellow like an enraged bull. The nextinstant Holmes and the seaman were rolling on the ground together. Hewas a man of such gigantic strength that, even with the handcuffswhich Holmes had so deftly fastened upon his wrists, he would havevery quickly overpowered my friend had Hopkins and I not rushed tohis rescue. Only when I pressed the cold muzzle of the revolver to histemple did he at last understand that resistance was vain. We lashed hisankles with cord, and rose breathless from the struggle. 

"I must really apologize, Hopkins, " said Sherlock Holmes. "I fear thatthe scrambled eggs are cold. However, you will enjoy the rest of yourbreakfast all the better, will you not, for the thought that you havebrought your case to a triumphant conclusion. "

Stanley Hopkins was speechless with amazement. 

"I don't know what to say, Mr. Holmes, " he blurted out at last, with avery red face. "It seems to me that I have been making a fool ofmyself from the beginning. I understand now, what I should never haveforgotten, that I am the pupil and you are the master. Even now Isee what you have done, but I don't know how you did it or what itsignifies. "

"Well, well, " said Holmes, good-humouredly. "We all learn by experience, and your lesson this time is that you should never lose sight of thealternative. You were so absorbed in young Neligan that you could notspare a thought to Patrick Cairns, the true murderer of Peter Carey. "

The hoarse voice of the seaman broke in on our conversation. 

"See here, mister, " said he, "I make no complaint of being man-handledin this fashion, but I would have you call things by their right names. You say I murdered Peter Carey, I say I KILLED Peter Carey, and there'sall the difference. Maybe you don't believe what I say. Maybe you thinkI am just slinging you a yarn. "

"Not at all, " said Holmes. "Let us hear what you have to say. "

"It's soon told, and, by the Lord, every word of it is truth. I knewBlack Peter, and when he pulled out his knife I whipped a harpoonthrough him sharp, for I knew that it was him or me. That's how he died. You can call it murder. Anyhow, I'd as soon die with a rope round myneck as with Black Peter's knife in my heart. "

"How came you there?" asked Holmes. 

"I'll tell it you from the beginning. Just sit me up a little, so asI can speak easy. It was in '83 that it happened--August of that year. Peter Carey was master of the SEA UNICORN, and I was spare harpooner. Wewere coming out of the ice-pack on our way home, with head winds and aweek's southerly gale, when we picked up a little craft that had beenblown north. There was one man on her--a landsman. The crew had thoughtshe would founder and had made for the Norwegian coast in the dinghy. Iguess they were all drowned. Well, we took him on board, this man, andhe and the skipper had some long talks in the cabin. All the baggage wetook off with him was one tin box. So far as I know, the man's name wasnever mentioned, and on the second night he disappeared as if he hadnever been. It was given out that he had either thrown himself overboardor fallen overboard in the heavy weather that we were having. Only oneman knew what had happened to him, and that was me, for, with my owneyes, I saw the skipper tip up his heels and put him over the railin the middle watch of a dark night, two days before we sighted theShetland Lights. Well, I kept my knowledge to myself, and waited to seewhat would come of it. When we got back to Scotland it was easily hushedup, and nobody asked any questions. A stranger died by accident and itwas nobody's business to inquire. Shortly after Peter Carey gave up thesea, and it was long years before I could find where he was. I guessedthat he had done the deed for the sake of what was in that tin box, andthat he could afford now to pay me well for keeping my mouth shut. Ifound out where he was through a sailor man that had met him in London, and down I went to squeeze him. The first night he was reasonableenough, and was ready to give me what would make me free of the sea forlife. We were to fix it all two nights later. When I came, I found himthree parts drunk and in a vile temper. We sat down and we drank and weyarned about old times, but the more he drank the less I liked the lookon his face. I spotted that harpoon upon the wall, and I thought I mightneed it before I was through. Then at last he broke out at me, spittingand cursing, with murder in his eyes and a great clasp-knife in hishand. He had not time to get it from the sheath before I had the harpoonthrough him. Heavens! what a yell he gave! and his face gets between meand my sleep. I stood there, with his blood splashing round me, and Iwaited for a bit, but all was quiet, so I took heart once more. I lookedround, and there was the tin box on the shelf. I had as much right toit as Peter Carey, anyhow, so I took it with me and left the hut. Like afool I left my baccy-pouch upon the table. 

"Now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story. I had hardlygot outside the hut when I heard someone coming, and I hid among thebushes. A man came slinking along, went into the hut, gave a cry as ifhe had seen a ghost, and legged it as hard as he could run until he wasout of sight. Who he was or what he wanted is more than I can tell. For my part I walked ten miles, got a train at Tunbridge Wells, and soreached London, and no one the wiser. 

"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 holdon Black Peter and was stranded in London without a shilling. There wasonly my trade left. I saw these advertisements about harpooners, andhigh wages, so I went to the shipping agents, and they sent me here. That's all I know, and I say again that if I killed Black Peter, the lawshould give me thanks, for I saved them the price of a hempen rope. "

"A very clear statement said Holmes, " rising and lighting his pipe. "Ithink, Hopkins, that you should lose no time in conveying your prisonerto a place of safety. This room is not well adapted for a cell, and Mr. Patrick Cairns occupies too large a proportion of our carpet. "

"Mr. Holmes, " said Hopkins, "I do not know how to express my gratitude. Even now I do not understand how you attained this result. "

"Simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue from thebeginning. It is very possible if I had known about this notebookit might have led away my thoughts, as it did yours. But all I heardpointed in the one direction. The amazing strength, the skill in the useof the harpoon, the rum and water, the sealskin tobacco-pouch with thecoarse tobacco--all these pointed to a seaman, and one who had been awhaler. I was convinced that the initials 'P. C. ' upon the pouch were acoincidence, and not those of Peter Carey, since he seldom smoked, andno pipe was found in his cabin. You remember that I asked whether whiskyand brandy were in the cabin. You said they were. How many landsmen arethere who would drink rum when they could get these other spirits? Yes, I was certain it was a seaman. "

"And how did you find him?"

"My dear sir, the problem had become a very simple one. If it werea seaman, it could only be a seaman who had been with him on the SEAUNICORN. So far as I could learn he had sailed in no other ship. Ispent three days in wiring to Dundee, and at the end of that time I hadascertained the names of the crew of the SEA UNICORN in 1883. When Ifound Patrick Cairns among the harpooners, my research was nearing itsend. I argued that the man was probably in London, and that he woulddesire to leave the country for a time. I therefore spent some days inthe East End, devised an Arctic expedition, put forth tempting terms forharpooners who would serve under Captain Basil--and behold the result!"

"Wonderful!" cried Hopkins. "Wonderful!"

"You must obtain the release of young Neligan as soon as possible, " saidHolmes. "I confess that I think you owe him some apology. The tin boxmust be returned to him, but, of course, the securities which PeterCarey has sold are lost forever. There's the cab, Hopkins, and you canremove your man. If you want me for the trial, my address and that ofWatson will be somewhere in Norway--I'll send particulars later. "

THE ADVENTURE OF CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON

It is years since the incidents of which I speak took place, and yet itis with diffidence that I allude to them. For a long time, even with theutmost discretion and reticence, it would have been impossible to makethe facts public, but now the principal person concerned is beyond thereach of human law, and with due suppression the story may be toldin such fashion as to injure no one. It records an absolutely uniqueexperience in the career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of myself. Thereader will excuse me if I conceal the date or any other fact by whichhe might trace the actual occurrence. 

We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and hadreturned about six o'clock on a cold, frosty winter's evening. As Holmesturned up the lamp the light fell upon a card on the table. He glancedat it, and then, with an ejaculation of disgust, threw it on the floor. I picked it up and read:

CHARLES AUGUSTUS MILVERTON, Appledore Towers, Hampstead. Agent. 

"Who is he?" I asked. 

"The worst man in London, " Holmes answered, as he sat down and stretchedhis legs before the fire. "Is anything on the back of the card?"

I turned it over. 

"Will call at 6:30--C. A. M. , " I read. 

"Hum! He's about due. Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, when you stand before the serpents in the Zoo, and see theslithery, gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes andwicked, flattened faces? Well, that's how Milverton impresses me. I'vehad to do with fifty murderers in my career, but the worst of them nevergave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow. And yet I can't getout of doing business with him--indeed, he is here at my invitation. "

"But who is he?"

"I'll tell you, Watson. He is the king of all the blackmailers. Heavenhelp the man, and still more the woman, whose secret and reputation comeinto 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 isa genius in his way, and would have made his mark in some more savourytrade. His method is as follows: He allows it to be known that he isprepared to pay very high sums for letters which compromise people ofwealth and position. He receives these wares not only from treacherousvalets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians, who have gainedthe confidence and affection of trusting women. He deals with no niggardhand. I happen to know that he paid seven hundred pounds to a footmanfor a note two lines in length, and that the ruin of a noble family wasthe result. Everything which is in the market goes to Milverton, andthere are hundreds in this great city who turn white at his name. Noone knows where his grip may fall, for he is far too rich and far toocunning to work from hand to mouth. He will hold a card back for yearsin order to play it at the moment when the stake is best worth winning. I have said that he is the worst man in London, and I would ask you howcould one compare the ruffian, who in hot blood bludgeons his mate, with this man, who methodically and at his leisure tortures the soul andwrings the nerves in order to add to his already swollen money-bags?"

I had seldom heard my friend speak with such intensity of feeling. 

"But surely, " said I, "the fellow must be within the grasp of the law?"

"Technically, no doubt, but practically not. What would it profit awoman, for example, to get him a few months' imprisonment if her ownruin must immediately follow? His victims dare not hit back. If ever heblackmailed an innocent person, then indeed we should have him, but heis as cunning as the Evil One. No, no, we must find other ways to fighthim. "

"And why is he here?"

"Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case in my hands. It is the Lady Eva Blackwell, the most beautiful debutante of lastseason. She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt. This fiend has several imprudent letters--imprudent, Watson, nothingworse--which were written to an impecunious young squire in the country. They would suffice to break off the match. Milverton will send theletters to the Earl unless a large sum of money is paid him. I have beencommissioned to meet him, and--to make the best terms I can. "

At that instant there was a clatter and a rattle in the street below. Looking down I saw a stately carriage and pair, the brilliant lampsgleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts. A footmanopened the door, and a small, stout man in a shaggy astrakhan overcoatdescended. A minute later he was in the room. 

Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large, intellectual head, a round, plump, hairless face, a perpetual frozensmile, and two keen gray eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind broad, gold-rimmed glasses. There was something of Mr. Pickwick's benevolencein his appearance, marred only by the insincerity of the fixed smile andby the hard glitter of those restless and penetrating eyes. His voicewas as smooth and suave as his countenance, as he advanced with a plumplittle hand extended, murmuring his regret for having missed us at hisfirst visit. Holmes disregarded the outstretched hand and looked at himwith a face of granite. Milverton's smile broadened, he shrugged hisshoulders removed his overcoat, folded it with great deliberation overthe back of a chair, and then took a seat. 

"This gentleman?" said he, with a wave in my direction. "Is it discreet?Is it right?"

"Dr. Watson is my friend and partner. "

"Very good, Mr. Holmes. It is only in your client's interests that Iprotested. The matter is so very delicate----"

"Dr. Watson has already heard of it. "

"Then we can proceed to business. You say that you are acting for LadyEva. Has she empowered you to accept my terms?"

"What are your terms?"

"Seven thousand pounds. "

"And the alternative?"

"My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it, but if the money isnot paid on the 14th, there certainly will be no marriage on the 18th. "His insufferable smile was more complacent than ever. 

Holmes thought for a little. 

"You appear to me, " he said, at last, "to be taking matters too much forgranted. I am, of course, familiar with the contents of these letters. My client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her totell her future husband the whole story and to trust to his generosity. "

Milverton chuckled. 

"You evidently do not know the Earl, " said he. 

From the baffled look upon Holmes's face, I could see clearly that hedid. 

"What harm is there in the letters?" he asked. 

"They are sprightly--very sprightly, " Milverton answered. "The ladywas a charming correspondent. But I can assure you that the Earl ofDovercourt would fail to appreciate them. However, since you thinkotherwise, we will let it rest at that. It is purely a matter ofbusiness. If you think that it is in the best interests of your clientthat these letters should be placed in the hands of the Earl, then youwould indeed be foolish to pay so large a sum of money to regain them. "He rose and seized his astrakhan coat. 

Holmes was gray with anger and mortification. 

"Wait a little, " he said. "You go too fast. We should certainly makeevery effort to avoid scandal in so delicate a matter. "

Milverton relapsed into his chair. 

"I was sure that you would see it in that light, " he purred. 

"At the same time, " Holmes continued, "Lady Eva is not a wealthywoman. I assure you that two thousand pounds would be a drain upon herresources, and that the sum you name is utterly beyond her power. I beg, therefore, that you will moderate your demands, and that you will returnthe letters at the price I indicate, which is, I assure you, the highestthat you can get. "

Milverton's smile broadened and his eyes twinkled humorously. 

"I am aware that what you say is true about the lady's resources, "said he. "At the same time you must admit that the occasion of a lady'smarriage is a very suitable time for her friends and relatives tomake some little effort upon her behalf. They may hesitate as to anacceptable wedding present. Let me assure them that this little bundleof letters would give more joy than all the candelabra and butter-dishesin London. "

"It is impossible, " said Holmes. 

"Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate!" cried Milverton, taking out a bulkypocketbook. "I cannot help thinking that ladies are ill-advised innot making an effort. Look at this!" He held up a little note with acoat-of-arms upon the envelope. "That belongs to--well, perhaps it ishardly fair to tell the name until to-morrow morning. But at that timeit will be in the hands of the lady's husband. And all because she willnot find a beggarly sum which she could get by turning her diamondsinto paste. It IS such a pity! Now, you remember the sudden end of theengagement between the Honourable Miss Miles and Colonel Dorking? Onlytwo days before the wedding, there was a paragraph in the MORNING POSTto say that it was all off. And why? It is almost incredible, butthe absurd sum of twelve hundred pounds would have settled the wholequestion. Is it not pitiful? And here I find you, a man of sense, boggling about terms, when your client's future and honour are at stake. You surprise me, Mr. Holmes. "

"What I say is true, " Holmes answered. "The money cannot be found. Surely it is better for you to take the substantial sum which I offerthan to ruin this woman's career, which can profit you in no way?"

"There you make a mistake, Mr. Holmes. An exposure would profit meindirectly to a considerable extent. I have eight or ten similar casesmaturing. If it was circulated among them that I had made a severeexample of the Lady Eva, I should find all of them much more open toreason. You see my point?"

Holmes sprang from his chair. 

"Get behind him, Watson! Don't let him out! Now, sir, let us see thecontents of that notebook. "

Milverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the room and stoodwith his back against the wall. 

"Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes, " he said, turning the front of his coat andexhibiting the butt of a large revolver, which projected from the insidepocket. "I have been expecting you to do something original. This hasbeen done so often, and what good has ever come from it? I assure youthat I am armed to the teeth, and I am perfectly prepared to use myweapons, knowing that the law will support me. Besides, your suppositionthat I would bring the letters here in a notebook is entirely mistaken. I would do nothing so foolish. And now, gentlemen, I have one or twolittle interviews this evening, and it is a long drive to Hampstead. "He stepped forward, took up his coat, laid his hand on his revolver, andturned to the door. I picked up a chair, but Holmes shook his head, andI laid it down again. With bow, a smile, and a twinkle, Milvertonwas out of the room, and a few moments after we heard the slam of thecarriage door and the rattle of the wheels as he drove away. 

Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep in his trouserpockets, his chin sunk upon his breast, his eyes fixed upon the glowingembers. For half an hour he was silent and still. Then, with the gestureof a man who has taken his decision, he sprang to his feet and passedinto his bedroom. A little later a rakish young workman, with a goateebeard and a swagger, lit his clay pipe at the lamp before descendinginto the street. "I'll be back some time, Watson, " said he, and vanishedinto the night. I understood that he had opened his campaign againstCharles Augustus Milverton, but I little dreamed the strange shape whichthat campaign was destined to take. 

For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire, butbeyond a remark that his time was spent at Hampstead, and that it wasnot wasted, I knew nothing of what he was doing. At last, however, ona wild, tempestuous evening, when the wind screamed and rattled againstthe windows, he returned from his last expedition, and having removedhis disguise he sat before the fire and laughed heartily in his silentinward fashion. 

"You would not call me a marrying man, Watson?"

"No, indeed!"

"You'll be interested to hear that I'm engaged. "

"My dear fellow! I congrat----"

"To Milverton's housemaid. "

"Good heavens, Holmes!"

"I wanted information, Watson. "

"Surely you have gone too far?"

"It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with a rising business, Escott, by name. I have walked out with her each evening, and I havetalked with her. Good heavens, those talks! However, I have got all Iwanted. I know Milverton's house as I know the palm of my hand. "

"But the girl, Holmes?"

He shrugged his shoulders. 

"You can't help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards as best youcan when such a stake is on the table. However, I rejoice to say thatI have a hated rival, who will certainly cut me out the instant that myback is turned. What a splendid night it is!"

"You like this weather?"

"It suits my purpose. Watson, I mean to burgle Milverton's houseto-night. "

I had a catching of the breath, and my skin went cold at the words, which were slowly uttered in a tone of concentrated resolution. As aflash of lightning in the night shows up in an instant every detail ofa wild landscape, so at one glance I seemed to see every possible resultof such an action--the detection, the capture, the honoured careerending in irreparable failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying atthe mercy of the odious Milverton. 

"For heaven's sake, Holmes, think what you are doing, " I cried. 

"My dear fellow, I have given it every consideration. I am neverprecipitate in my actions, nor would I adopt so energetic and, indeed, so dangerous a course, if any other were possible. Let us look at thematter clearly and fairly. I suppose that you will admit that the actionis morally justifiable, though technically criminal. To burgle his houseis no more than to forcibly take his pocketbook--an action in which youwere prepared to aid me. "

I turned it over in my mind. 

"Yes, " I said, "it is morally justifiable so long as our object is totake no articles save those which are used for an illegal purpose. "

"Exactly. Since it is morally justifiable, I have only to consider thequestion of personal risk. Surely a gentleman should not lay much stressupon this, when a lady is in most desperate need of his help?"

"You will be in such a false position. "

"Well, that is part of the risk. There is no other possible way ofregaining these letters. The unfortunate lady has not the money, andthere are none of her people in whom she could confide. To-morrow isthe last day of grace, and unless we can get the letters to-night, thisvillain will be as good as his word and will bring about her ruin. Imust, therefore, abandon my client to her fate or I must play thislast card. Between ourselves, Watson, it's a sporting duel betweenthis fellow Milverton and me. He had, as you saw, the best of the firstexchanges, but my self-respect and my reputation are concerned to fightit to a finish. "

"Well, I don't like it, but I suppose it must be, " said I. "When do westart?"

"You are not coming. "

"Then you are not going, " said I. "I give you my word of honour--andI never broke it in my life--that I will take a cab straight to thepolice-station and give you away, unless you let me share this adventurewith you. "

"You can't help me. "

"How do you know that? You can't tell what may happen. Anyway, myresolution is taken. Other people besides you have self-respect, andeven reputations. "

Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me onthe shoulder. 

"Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so. We have shared this same roomfor some years, and it would be amusing if we ended by sharing thesame cell. You know, Watson, I don't mind confessing to you that I havealways 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 tooka neat little leather case out of a drawer, and opening it he exhibiteda number of shining instruments. "This is a first-class, up-to-dateburgling kit, with nickel-plated jemmy, diamond-tipped glass-cutter, adaptable keys, and every modern improvement which the march ofcivilization demands. Here, too, is my dark lantern. Everything is inorder. Have you a pair of silent shoes?"

"I have rubber-soled tennis shoes. "

"Excellent! And a mask?"

"I can make a couple out of black silk. "

"I can see that you have a strong, natural turn for this sort of thing. Very good, do you make the masks. We shall have some cold supper beforewe start. It is now nine-thirty. At eleven we shall drive as far asChurch Row. It is a quarter of an hour's walk from there to AppledoreTowers. We shall be at work before midnight. Milverton is a heavysleeper, and retires punctually at ten-thirty. With any luck we shouldbe back here by two, with the Lady Eva's letters in my pocket. "

Holmes and I put on our dress-clothes, so that we might appear to be twotheatre-goers homeward bound. In Oxford Street we picked up a hansom anddrove to an address in Hampstead. Here we paid off our cab, and with ourgreat coats buttoned up, for it was bitterly cold, and the wind seemedto blow through us, we walked along the edge of the heath. 

"It's a business that needs delicate treatment, " said Holmes. "Thesedocuments are contained in a safe in the fellow's study, and the studyis the ante-room of his bed-chamber. On the other hand, like all thesestout, little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoric sleeper. Agatha--that's my fiancee--says it is a joke in the servants' hall thatit's impossible to wake the master. He has a secretary who is devotedto his interests, and never budges from the study all day. That's why weare going at night. Then he has a beast of a dog which roams the garden. I met Agatha late the last two evenings, and she locks the brute up soas to give me a clear run. This is the house, this big one in its owngrounds. Through the gate--now to the right among the laurels. We mightput on our masks here, I think. You see, there is not a glimmer of lightin any of the windows, and everything is working splendidly. "

With our black silk face-coverings, which turned us into two of the mosttruculent figures in London, we stole up to the silent, gloomy house. A sort of tiled veranda extended along one side of it, lined by severalwindows and two doors. 

"That's his bedroom, " Holmes whispered. "This door opens straight intothe study. It would suit us best, but it is bolted as well as locked, and we should make too much noise getting in. Come round here. There's agreenhouse which opens into the drawing-room. "

The place was locked, but Holmes removed a circle of glass and turnedthe key from the inside. An instant afterwards he had closed the doorbehind us, and we had become felons in the eyes of the law. The thick, warm air of the conservatory and the rich, choking fragrance of exoticplants took us by the throat. He seized my hand in the darkness and ledme swiftly past banks of shrubs which brushed against our faces. Holmeshad remarkable powers, carefully cultivated, of seeing in the dark. Still holding my hand in one of his, he opened a door, and I was vaguelyconscious that we had entered a large room in which a cigar had beensmoked not long before. He felt his way among the furniture, openedanother door, and closed it behind us. Putting out my hand I feltseveral coats hanging from the wall, and I understood that I was in apassage. We passed along it and Holmes very gently opened a door uponthe right-hand side. Something rushed out at us and my heart sprang intomy mouth, but I could have laughed when I realized that it was the cat. A fire was burning in this new room, and again the air was heavy withtobacco smoke. Holmes entered on tiptoe, waited for me to follow, andthen very gently closed the door. We were in Milverton's study, and aportiere at the farther side showed the entrance to his bedroom. 

It was a good fire, and the room was illuminated by it. Near the door Isaw the gleam of an electric switch, but it was unnecessary, even if ithad been safe, to turn it on. At one side of the fireplace was a heavycurtain which covered the bay window we had seen from outside. On theother side was the door which communicated with the veranda. A deskstood in the centre, with a turning-chair of shining red leather. Opposite was a large bookcase, with a marble bust of Athene on the top. In the corner, between the bookcase and the wall, there stood a tall, green safe, the firelight flashing back from the polished brass knobsupon its face. Holmes stole across and looked at it. Then he creptto the door of the bedroom, and stood with slanting head listeningintently. No sound came from within. Meanwhile it had struck me thatit would be wise to secure our retreat through the outer door, soI examined it. To my amazement, it was neither locked nor bolted. I touched Holmes on the arm, and he turned his masked face in thatdirection. I saw him start, and he was evidently as surprised as I. 

"I don't like it, " he whispered, putting his lips to my very ear. "Ican't quite make it out. Anyhow, we have no time to lose. "

"Can I do anything?"

"Yes, stand by the door. If you hear anyone come, bolt it on the inside, and we can get away as we came. If they come the other way, we canget through the door if our job is done, or hide behind these windowcurtains if it is not. Do you understand?"

I nodded, and stood by the door. My first feeling of fear had passedaway, and I thrilled now with a keener zest than I had ever enjoyed whenwe were the defenders of the law instead of its defiers. The high objectof our mission, the consciousness that it was unselfish and chivalrous, the villainous character of our opponent, all added to the sportinginterest of the adventure. Far from feeling guilty, I rejoiced andexulted in our dangers. With a glow of admiration I watched Holmesunrolling his case of instruments and choosing his tool with the calm, scientific accuracy of a surgeon who performs a delicate operation. Iknew that the opening of safes was a particular hobby with him, and Iunderstood the joy which it gave him to be confronted with this greenand gold monster, the dragon which held in its maw the reputations ofmany fair ladies. Turning up the cuffs of his dress-coat--he had placedhis overcoat on a chair--Holmes laid out two drills, a jemmy, andseveral skeleton keys. I stood at the centre door with my eyes glancingat each of the others, ready for any emergency, though, indeed, my planswere somewhat vague as to what I should do if we were interrupted. Forhalf an hour, Holmes worked with concentrated energy, laying down onetool, picking up another, handling each with the strength and delicacyof the trained mechanic. Finally I heard a click, the broad green doorswung open, and inside I had a glimpse of a number of paper packets, each tied, sealed, and inscribed. Holmes picked one out, but it was ashard to read by the flickering fire, and he drew out his little darklantern, for it was too dangerous, with Milverton in the next room, toswitch on the electric light. Suddenly I saw him halt, listen intently, and then in an instant he had swung the door of the safe to, pickedup his coat, stuffed his tools into the pockets, and darted behind thewindow curtain, motioning me to do the same. 

It was only when I had joined him there that I heard what had alarmedhis quicker senses. There was a noise somewhere within the house. A doorslammed in the distance. Then a confused, dull murmur broke itself intothe measured thud of heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. They were inthe passage outside the room. They paused at the door. The door opened. There was a sharp snick as the electric light was turned on. The doorclosed once more, and the pungent reek of a strong cigar was borneto our nostrils. Then the footsteps continued backward and forward, backward and forward, within a few yards of us. Finally there was acreak from a chair, and the footsteps ceased. Then a key clicked in alock, and I heard the rustle of papers. 

So far I had not dared to look out, but now I gently parted the divisionof the curtains in front of me and peeped through. From the pressureof Holmes's shoulder against mine, I knew that he was sharing myobservations. Right in front of us, and almost within our reach, was thebroad, rounded back of Milverton. It was evident that we had entirelymiscalculated his movements, that he had never been to his bedroom, but that he had been sitting up in some smoking or billiard room in thefarther wing of the house, the windows of which we had not seen. Hisbroad, grizzled head, with its shining patch of baldness, was in theimmediate foreground of our vision. He was leaning far back in the redleather chair, his legs outstretched, a long, black cigar projectingat 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 was reading in an indolent fashion, blowingrings of tobacco smoke from his lips as he did so. There was no promiseof a speedy departure in his composed bearing and his comfortableattitude. 

I felt Holmes's hand steal into mine and give me a reassuring shake, asif to say that the situation was within his powers, and that he waseasy in his mind. I was not sure whether he had seen what was only tooobvious from my position, that the door of the safe was imperfectlyclosed, and that Milverton might at any moment observe it. In my ownmind I had determined that if I were sure, from the rigidity of hisgaze, that it had caught his eye, I would at once spring out, throw mygreat coat over his head, pinion him, and leave the rest to Holmes. ButMilverton never looked up. He was languidly interested by the papers inhis hand, and page after page was turned as he followed the argument ofthe lawyer. At least, I thought, when he has finished the document andthe cigar he will go to his room, but before he had reached the end ofeither, there came a remarkable development, which turned our thoughtsinto quite another channel. 

Several times I had observed that Milverton looked at his watch, andonce he had risen and sat down again, with a gesture of impatience. Theidea, however, that he might have an appointment at so strange anhour never occurred to me until a faint sound reached my ears fromthe veranda outside. Milverton dropped his papers and sat rigid in hischair. The sound was repeated, and then there came a gentle tap at thedoor. Milverton rose and opened it. 

"Well, " said he, curtly, "you are nearly half an hour late. "

So this was the explanation of the unlocked door and of the nocturnalvigil of Milverton. There was the gentle rustle of a woman's dress. Ihad closed the slit between the curtains as Milverton's face had turnedin our direction, but now I ventured very carefully to open it oncemore. He had resumed his seat, the cigar still projecting at an insolentangle from the corner of his mouth. In front of him, in the full glareof the electric light, there stood a tall, slim, dark woman, a veil overher face, a mantle drawn round her chin. Her breath came quick and fast, and every inch of the lithe figure was quivering with strong emotion. 

"Well, " said Milverton, "you made me lose a good night's rest, my dear. I hope you'll prove worth it. You couldn't come any other time--eh?"

The woman shook her head. 

"Well, if you couldn't you couldn't. If the Countess is a hard mistress, you have your chance to get level with her now. Bless the girl, what areyou shivering about? That's right. Pull yourself together. Now, let usget down to business. " He took a notebook from the drawer of his desk. "You say that you have five letters which compromise the Countessd'Albert. You want to sell them. I want to buy them. So far so good. Itonly remains to fix a price. I should want to inspect the letters, ofcourse. If they are really good specimens--Great heavens, is it you?"

The woman, without a word, had raised her veil and dropped the mantlefrom her chin. It was a dark, handsome, clear-cut face which confrontedMilverton--a face with a curved nose, strong, dark eyebrows shadinghard, glittering eyes, and a straight, thin-lipped mouth set in adangerous smile. 

"It is I, " she said, "the woman whose life you have ruined. "

Milverton laughed, but fear vibrated in his voice. "You were so veryobstinate, " said he. "Why did you drive me to such extremities? Iassure you I wouldn't hurt a fly of my own accord, but every man has hisbusiness, and what was I to do? I put the price well within your means. You would not pay. "

"So you sent the letters to my husband, and he--the noblest gentlemanthat ever lived, a man whose boots I was never worthy to lace--he brokehis gallant heart and died. You remember that last night, when I camethrough that door, I begged and prayed you for mercy, and you laughedin my face as you are trying to laugh now, only your coward heart cannotkeep your lips from twitching. Yes, you never thought to see me hereagain, but it was that night which taught me how I could meet you faceto face, and alone. Well, Charles Milverton, what have you to say?"

"Don't imagine that you can bully me, " said he, rising to his feet. "Ihave only to raise my voice and I could call my servants and have youarrested. But I will make allowance for your natural anger. Leave theroom at once as you came, and I will say no more. "

The woman stood with her hand buried in her bosom, and the same deadlysmile on her thin lips. 

"You will ruin no more lives as you have ruined mine. You will wringno more hearts as you wrung mine. I will free the world of a poisonousthing. Take that, you hound--and that!--and that!--and that!"

She had drawn a little gleaming revolver, and emptied barrel afterbarrel into Milverton's body, the muzzle within two feet of his shirtfront. He shrank away and then fell forward upon the table, coughingfuriously and clawing among the papers. Then he staggered to his feet, received another shot, and rolled upon the floor. "You've done me, " hecried, and lay still. The woman looked at him intently, and ground herheel into his upturned face. She looked again, but there was no soundor movement. I heard a sharp rustle, the night air blew into the heatedroom, and the avenger was gone. 

No interference upon our part could have saved the man from his fate, but, as the woman poured bullet after bullet into Milverton's shrinkingbody I was about to spring out, when I felt Holmes's cold, strong graspupon my wrist. I understood the whole argument of that firm, restraininggrip--that it was no affair of ours, that justice had overtaken avillain, that we had our own duties and our own objects, which were notto be lost sight of. But hardly had the woman rushed from the room whenHolmes, with swift, silent steps, was over at the other door. He turnedthe key in the lock. At the same instant we heard voices in the houseand the sound of hurrying feet. The revolver shots had roused thehousehold. With perfect coolness Holmes slipped across to the safe, filled his two arms with bundles of letters, and poured them all intothe fire. Again and again he did it, until the safe was empty. Someoneturned the handle and beat upon the outside of the door. Holmes lookedswiftly round. The letter which had been the messenger of death forMilverton lay, all mottled with his blood, upon the table. Holmes tossedit in among the blazing papers. Then he drew the key from the outerdoor, passed through after me, and locked it on the outside. "This way, Watson, " said he, "we can scale the garden wall in this direction. "

I could not have believed that an alarm could have spread so swiftly. Looking back, the huge house was one blaze of light. The front doorwas open, and figures were rushing down the drive. The whole garden wasalive with people, and one fellow raised a view-halloa as we emergedfrom the veranda and followed hard at our heels. Holmes seemed toknow the grounds perfectly, and he threaded his way swiftly amonga plantation of small trees, I close at his heels, and our foremostpursuer panting behind us. It was a six-foot wall which barred our path, but he sprang to the top and over. As I did the same I felt the handof the man behind me grab at my ankle, but I kicked myself free andscrambled over a grass-strewn coping. I fell upon my face among somebushes, but Holmes had me on my feet in an instant, and together wedashed away across the huge expanse of Hampstead Heath. We had run twomiles, I suppose, before Holmes at last halted and listened intently. All was absolute silence behind us. We had shaken off our pursuers andwere safe. 

We had breakfasted and were smoking our morning pipe on the day afterthe remarkable experience which I have recorded, when Mr. Lestrade, ofScotland Yard, very solemn and impressive, was ushered into our modestsitting-room. 

"Good-morning, Mr. Holmes, " said he; "good-morning. May I ask if you arevery busy just now?"

"Not too busy to listen to you. "

"I thought that, perhaps, if you had nothing particular on hand, youmight care to assist us in a most remarkable case, which occurred onlylast night at Hampstead. "

"Dear me!" said Holmes. "What was that?"

"A murder--a most dramatic and remarkable murder. I know how keen youare upon these things, and I would take it as a great favour if youwould step down to Appledore Towers, and give us the benefit of youradvice. It is no ordinary crime. We have had our eyes upon this Mr. Milverton for some time, and, between ourselves, he was a bit of avillain. He is known to have held papers which he used for blackmailingpurposes. These papers have all been burned by the murderers. No articleof value was taken, as it is probable that the criminals were men ofgood position, whose sole object was to prevent social exposure. "

"Criminals?" said Holmes. "Plural?"

"Yes, there were two of them. They were as nearly as possible capturedred-handed. We have their footmarks, we have their description, it's tento one that we trace them. The first fellow was a bit too active, butthe second was caught by the under-gardener, and only got away after astruggle. He was a middle-sized, strongly built man--square jaw, thickneck, moustache, a mask over his eyes. "

"That's rather vague, " said Sherlock Holmes. "My, it might be adescription of Watson!"

"It's true, " said the inspector, with amusement. "It might be adescription of Watson. "

"Well, I'm afraid I can't help you, Lestrade, " said Holmes. "The fact isthat I knew this fellow Milverton, that I considered him one of the mostdangerous men in London, and that I think there are certain crimeswhich the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justifyprivate revenge. No, it's no use arguing. I have made up my mind. Mysympathies are with the criminals rather than with the victim, and Iwill not handle this case. "

Holmes had not said one word to me about the tragedy which we hadwitnessed, but I observed all the morning that he was in his mostthoughtful mood, and he gave me the impression, from his vacant eyes andhis abstracted manner, of a man who is striving to recall something tohis memory. We were in the middle of our lunch, when he suddenly sprangto his feet. "By Jove, Watson, I've got it!" he cried. "Take your hat!Come with me!" He hurried at his top speed down Baker Street and alongOxford Street, until we had almost reached Regent Circus. Here, on theleft hand, there stands a shop window filled with photographs of thecelebrities and beauties of the day. Holmes's eyes fixed themselves uponone of them, and following his gaze I saw the picture of a regal andstately lady in Court dress, with a high diamond tiara upon her noblehead. I looked at that delicately curved nose, at the marked eyebrows, at the straight mouth, and the strong little chin beneath it. Then Icaught my breath as I read the time-honoured title of the great noblemanand statesman whose wife she had been. My eyes met those of Holmes, andhe put his finger to his lips as we turned away from the window. 

THE ADVENTURE OF THE SIX NAPOLEONS

It was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, tolook in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome to SherlockHolmes, for they enabled him to keep in touch with all that was going onat the police headquarters. In return for the news which Lestrade wouldbring, Holmes was always ready to listen with attention to thedetails of any case upon which the detective was engaged, and was ableoccasionally, without any active interference, to give some hint orsuggestion drawn from his own vast knowledge and experience. 

On this particular evening, Lestrade had spoken of the weather andthe newspapers. Then he had fallen silent, puffing thoughtfully at hiscigar. Holmes looked keenly at him. 

"Anything remarkable on hand?" he asked. 

"Oh, no, Mr. Holmes--nothing very particular. "

"Then tell me about it. "

Lestrade laughed. 

"Well, Mr. Holmes, there is no use denying that there IS something on mymind. And yet it is such an absurd business, that I hesitated tobother you about it. On the other hand, although it is trivial, it isundoubtedly queer, and I know that you have a taste for all that is outof the common. But, in my opinion, it comes more in Dr. Watson's linethan ours. "

"Disease?" said I. 

"Madness, anyhow. And a queer madness, too. You wouldn't think there wasanyone living at this time of day who had such a hatred of Napoleon theFirst that he would break any image of him that he could see. "

Holmes sank back in his chair. 

"That's no business of mine, " said he. 

"Exactly. That's what I said. But then, when the man commits burglaryin order to break images which are not his own, that brings it away fromthe doctor and on to the policeman. "

Holmes sat up again. 

"Burglary! This is more interesting. Let me hear the details. "

Lestrade took out his official notebook and refreshed his memory fromits pages. 

"The first case reported was four days ago, " said he. "It was at theshop of Morse Hudson, who has a place for the sale of pictures andstatues in the Kennington Road. The assistant had left the front shopfor an instant, when he heard a crash, and hurrying in he found aplaster bust of Napoleon, which stood with several other works of artupon the counter, lying shivered into fragments. He rushed out into theroad, but, although several passers-by declared that they had noticed aman run out of the shop, he could neither see anyone nor could hefind any means of identifying the rascal. It seemed to be one of thosesenseless acts of Hooliganism which occur from time to time, and it wasreported to the constable on the beat as such. The plaster cast was notworth more than a few shillings, and the whole affair appeared to be toochildish for any particular investigation. 

"The second case, however, was more serious, and also more singular. Itoccurred only last night. 

"In Kennington Road, and within a few hundred yards of Morse Hudson'sshop, there lives a well-known medical practitioner, named Dr. Barnicot, who has one of the largest practices upon the south side of the Thames. His residence and principal consulting-room is at Kennington Road, buthe has a branch surgery and dispensary at Lower Brixton Road, two milesaway. This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and hishouse is full of books, pictures, and relics of the French Emperor. Somelittle time ago he purchased from Morse Hudson two duplicate plastercasts of the famous head of Napoleon by the French sculptor, Devine. Oneof these he placed in his hall in the house at Kennington Road, and theother on the mantelpiece of the surgery at Lower Brixton. Well, when Dr. Barnicot came down this morning he was astonished to find that his househad been burgled during the night, but that nothing had been taken savethe plaster head from the hall. It had been carried out and had beendashed savagely against the garden wall, under which its splinteredfragments were discovered. "

Holmes rubbed his hands. 

"This is certainly very novel, " said he. 

"I thought it would please you. But I have not got to the end yet. Dr. Barnicot was due at his surgery at twelve o'clock, and you can imaginehis amazement when, on arriving there, he found that the window had beenopened in the night and that the broken pieces of his second bust werestrewn all over the room. It had been smashed to atoms where it stood. In neither case were there any signs which could give us a clue as tothe criminal or lunatic who had done the mischief. Now, Mr. Holmes, youhave got the facts. "

"They are singular, not to say grotesque, " said Holmes. "May I askwhether the two busts smashed in Dr. Barnicot's rooms were the exactduplicates of the one which was destroyed in Morse Hudson's shop?"

"They were taken from the same mould. "

"Such a fact must tell against the theory that the man who breaks themis influenced by any general hatred of Napoleon. Considering how manyhundreds of statues of the great Emperor must exist in London, it istoo much to suppose such a coincidence as that a promiscuous iconoclastshould chance to begin upon three specimens of the same bust. "

"Well, I thought as you do, " said Lestrade. "On the other hand, thisMorse Hudson is the purveyor of busts in that part of London, and thesethree were the only ones which had been in his shop for years. So, although, as you say, there are many hundreds of statues in London, itis very probable that these three were the only ones in that district. Therefore, a local fanatic would begin with them. What do you think, Dr. Watson?"

"There are no limits to the possibilities of monomania, " I answered. "There is the condition which the modern French psychologists havecalled the 'IDEE FIXE, ' which may be trifling in character, andaccompanied by complete sanity in every other way. A man who had readdeeply about Napoleon, or who had possibly received some hereditaryfamily injury through the great war, might conceivably form such an IDEEFIXE and under its influence be capable of any fantastic outrage. "

"That won't do, my dear Watson, " said Holmes, shaking his head, "for noamount of IDEE FIXE would enable your interesting monomaniac to find outwhere these busts were situated. "

"Well, how do YOU explain it?"

"I don't attempt to do so. I would only observe that there is a certainmethod in the gentleman's eccentric proceedings. For example, in Dr. Barnicot's hall, where a sound might arouse the family, the bust wastaken outside before being broken, whereas in the surgery, where therewas less danger of an alarm, it was smashed where it stood. The affairseems absurdly trifling, and yet I dare call nothing trivial when Ireflect that some of my most classic cases have had the least promisingcommencement. You will remember, Watson, how the dreadful business ofthe Abernetty family was first brought to my notice by the depth whichthe parsley had sunk into the butter upon a hot day. I can't afford, therefore, to smile at your three broken busts, Lestrade, and I shallbe very much obliged to you if you will let me hear of any freshdevelopment of so singular a chain of events. "

The development for which my friend had asked came in a quicker and aninfinitely more tragic form than he could have imagined. I was stilldressing in my bedroom next morning, when there was a tap at the doorand Holmes entered, a telegram in his hand. He read it aloud:

"Come instantly, 131 Pitt Street, Kensington. 

"LESTRADE. "

"What is it, then?" I asked. 

"Don't know--may be anything. But I suspect it is the sequel of thestory of the statues. In that case our friend the image-breaker hasbegun operations in another quarter of London. There's coffee on thetable, Watson, and I have a cab at the door. "

In half an hour we had reached Pitt Street, a quiet little backwaterjust beside one of the briskest currents of London life. No. 131 was oneof a row, all flat-chested, respectable, and most unromantic dwellings. As we drove up, we found the railings in front of the house lined by acurious crowd. Holmes whistled. 

"By George! It's attempted murder at the least. Nothing less will holdthe London message-boy. There's a deed of violence indicated in thatfellow's round shoulders and outstretched neck. What's this, Watson? Thetop steps swilled down and the other ones dry. Footsteps enough, anyhow!Well, well, there's Lestrade at the front window, and we shall soon knowall about it. "

The official received us with a very grave face and showed us into asitting-room, where an exceedingly unkempt and agitated elderlyman, clad in a flannel dressing-gown, was pacing up and down. He wasintroduced to us as the owner of the house--Mr. Horace Harker, of theCentral Press Syndicate. 

"It's the Napoleon bust business again, " said Lestrade. "You seemedinterested last night, Mr. Holmes, so I thought perhaps you would beglad to be present now that the affair has taken a very much graverturn. "

"What has it turned to, then?"

"To murder. Mr. Harker, will you tell these gentlemen exactly what hasoccurred?"

The man in the dressing-gown turned upon us with a most melancholy face. 

"It's an extraordinary thing, " said he, "that all my life I have beencollecting other people's news, and now that a real piece of news hascome my own way I am so confused and bothered that I can't put twowords together. If I had come in here as a journalist, I should haveinterviewed myself and had two columns in every evening paper. As it is, I am giving away valuable copy by telling my story over and over to astring of different people, and I can make no use of it myself. However, I've heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and if you'll only explainthis queer business, I shall be paid for my trouble in telling you thestory. "

Holmes sat down and listened. 

"It all seems to centre round that bust of Napoleon which I bought forthis very room about four months ago. I picked it up cheap from HardingBrothers, two doors from the High Street Station. A great deal of myjournalistic work is done at night, and I often write until the earlymorning. So it was to-day. I was sitting in my den, which is at the backof the top of the house, about three o'clock, when I was convinced thatI heard some sounds downstairs. I listened, but they were not repeated, and I concluded that they came from outside. Then suddenly, about fiveminutes later, there came a most horrible yell--the most dreadful sound, Mr. Holmes, that ever I heard. It will ring in my ears as long as Ilive. I sat frozen with horror for a minute or two. Then I seized thepoker and went downstairs. When I entered this room I found the windowwide open, and I at once observed that the bust was gone from themantelpiece. Why any burglar should take such a thing passes myunderstanding, for it was only a plaster cast and of no real valuewhatever. 

"You can see for yourself that anyone going out through that open windowcould reach the front doorstep by taking a long stride. This was clearlywhat the burglar had done, so I went round and opened the door. Steppingout into the dark, I nearly fell over a dead man, who was lying there. Iran back for a light and there was the poor fellow, a great gash in histhroat and the whole place swimming in blood. He lay on his back, hisknees drawn up, and his mouth horribly open. I shall see him in mydreams. I had just time to blow on my police-whistle, and then I musthave fainted, for I knew nothing more until I found the policemanstanding over me in the hall. "

"Well, who was the murdered man?" asked Holmes. 

"There's nothing to show who he was, " said Lestrade. "You shall see thebody at the mortuary, but we have made nothing of it up to now. He is atall man, sunburned, very powerful, not more than thirty. He is poorlydressed, and yet does not appear to be a labourer. A horn-handled claspknife was lying in a pool of blood beside him. Whether it was the weaponwhich did the deed, or whether it belonged to the dead man, I do notknow. There was no name on his clothing, and nothing in his pockets savean apple, some string, a shilling map of London, and a photograph. Hereit is. "

It was evidently taken by a snapshot from a small camera. It representedan alert, sharp-featured simian man, with thick eyebrows and a verypeculiar projection of the lower part of the face, like the muzzle of ababoon. 

"And what became of the bust?" asked Holmes, after a careful study ofthis picture. 

"We had news of it just before you came. It has been found in the frontgarden of an empty house in Campden House Road. It was broken intofragments. I am going round now to see it. Will you come?"

"Certainly. I must just take one look round. " He examined the carpet andthe window. "The fellow had either very long legs or was a most activeman, " said he. "With an area beneath, it was no mean feat to reachthat window ledge and open that window. Getting back was comparativelysimple. Are you coming with us to see the remains of your bust, Mr. Harker?"

The disconsolate journalist had seated himself at a writing-table. 

"I must try and make something of it, " said he, "though I have no doubtthat the first editions of the evening papers are out already withfull details. It's like my luck! You remember when the stand fell atDoncaster? Well, I was the only journalist in the stand, and my journalthe only one that had no account of it, for I was too shaken to writeit. And now I'll be too late with a murder done on my own doorstep. "

As we left the room, we heard his pen travelling shrilly over thefoolscap. 

The spat where the fragments of the bust had been found was only afew hundred yards away. For the first time our eyes rested upon thispresentment of the great emperor, which seemed to raise such franticand destructive hatred in the mind of the unknown. It lay scattered, insplintered shards, upon the grass. Holmes picked up several of them andexamined them carefully. I was convinced, from his intent face and hispurposeful manner, that at last he was upon a clue. 

"Well?" asked Lestrade. 

Holmes shrugged his shoulders. 

"We have a long way to go yet, " said he. "And yet--and yet--well, wehave some suggestive facts to act upon. The possession of this triflingbust was worth more, in the eyes of this strange criminal, than a humanlife. That is one point. Then there is the singular fact that he did notbreak it in the house, or immediately outside the house, if to break itwas his sole object. "

"He was rattled and bustled by meeting this other fellow. He hardly knewwhat he was doing. "

"Well, that's likely enough. But I wish to call your attention veryparticularly to the position of this house, in the garden of which thebust was destroyed. "

Lestrade looked about him. 

"It was an empty house, and so he knew that he would not be disturbed inthe garden. "

"Yes, but there is another empty house farther up the street which hemust have passed before he came to this one. Why did he not break itthere, since it is evident that every yard that he carried it increasedthe risk of someone meeting him?"

"I give it up, " said Lestrade. 

Holmes pointed to the street lamp above our heads. 

"He could see what he was doing here, and he could not there. That washis reason. "

"By Jove! that's true, " said the detective. "Now that I come to think ofit, Dr. Barnicot's bust was broken not far from his red lamp. Well, Mr. Holmes, what are we to do with that fact?"

"To remember it--to docket it. We may come on something later which willbear upon it. What steps do you propose to take now, Lestrade?"

"The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion, is to identifythe dead man. There should be no difficulty about that. When we havefound who he is and who his associates are, we should have a good startin learning what he was doing in Pitt Street last night, and who it waswho met him and killed him on the doorstep of Mr. Horace Harker. Don'tyou think so?"

"No doubt; and yet it is not quite the way in which I should approachthe case. "

"What would you do then?"

"Oh, you must not let me influence you in any way. I suggest that yougo on your line and I on mine. We can compare notes afterwards, and eachwill supplement the other. "

"Very good, " said Lestrade. 

"If you are going back to Pitt Street, you might see Mr. Horace Harker. Tell him for me that I have quite made up my mind, and that it iscertain that a dangerous homicidal lunatic, with Napoleonic delusions, was in his house last night. It will be useful for his article. "

Lestrade stared. 

"You don't seriously believe that?"

Holmes smiled. 

"Don't I? Well, perhaps I don't. But I am sure that it will interest Mr. Horace Harker and the subscribers of the Central Press Syndicate. Now, Watson, I think that we shall find that we have a long and rathercomplex day's work before us. I should be glad, Lestrade, if you couldmake it convenient to meet us at Baker Street at six o'clock thisevening. Until then I should like to keep this photograph, found in thedead man's pocket. It is possible that I may have to ask your companyand assistance upon a small expedition which will have be undertakento-night, if my chain of reasoning should prove to be correct. Untilthen good-bye and good luck!"

Sherlock Holmes and I walked together to the High Street, where westopped at the shop of Harding Brothers, whence the bust had beenpurchased. A young assistant informed us that Mr. Harding would beabsent until afternoon, and that he was himself a newcomer, who couldgive us no information. Holmes's face showed his disappointment andannoyance. 

"Well, well, we can't expect to have it all our own way, Watson, " hesaid, at last. "We must come back in the afternoon, if Mr. Hardingwill not be here until then. I am, as you have no doubt surmised, endeavouring to trace these busts to their source, in order to find ifthere is not something peculiar which may account for their remarkablefate. Let us make for Mr. Morse Hudson, of the Kennington Road, and seeif he can throw any light upon the problem. "

A drive of an hour brought us to the picture-dealer's establishment. Hewas a small, stout man with a red face and a peppery manner. 

"Yes, sir. On my very counter, sir, " said he. "What we pay rates andtaxes for I don't know, when any ruffian can come in and break one'sgoods. Yes, sir, it was I who sold Dr. Barnicot his two statues. Disgraceful, sir! A Nihilist plot--that's what I make it. No one but ananarchist would go about breaking statues. Red republicans--that's whatI call 'em. Who did I get the statues from? I don't see what that has todo with it. Well, if you really want to know, I got them from Gelder& Co. , in Church Street, Stepney. They are a well-known house in thetrade, and have been this twenty years. How many had I? Three--two andone are three--two of Dr. Barnicot's, and one smashed in broad daylighton my own counter. Do I know that photograph? No, I don't. Yes, I do, though. Why, it's Beppo. He was a kind of Italian piece-work man, whomade himself useful in the shop. He could carve a bit, and gild andframe, and do odd jobs. The fellow left me last week, and I've heardnothing of him since. No, I don't know where he came from nor where hewent to. I had nothing against him while he was here. He was gone twodays before the bust was smashed. "

"Well, that's all we could reasonably expect from Morse Hudson, " saidHolmes, as we emerged from the shop. "We have this Beppo as a commonfactor, both in Kennington and in Kensington, so that is worth aten-mile drive. Now, Watson, let us make for Gelder & Co. , of Stepney, the source and origin of the busts. I shall be surprised if we don't getsome help down there. "

In rapid succession we passed through the fringe of fashionable London, hotel London, theatrical London, literary London, commercial London, and, finally, maritime London, till we came to a riverside city of ahundred thousand souls, where the tenement houses swelter and reek withthe outcasts of Europe. Here, in a broad thoroughfare, once the abodeof wealthy City merchants, we found the sculpture works for which wesearched. Outside was a considerable yard full of monumental masonry. Inside was a large room in which fifty workers were carving or moulding. The manager, a big blond German, received us civilly and gave a clearanswer to all Holmes's questions. A reference to his books showed thathundreds of casts had been taken from a marble copy of Devine's head ofNapoleon, but that the three which had been sent to Morse Hudson a yearor so before had been half of a batch of six, the other three being sentto Harding Brothers, of Kensington. There was no reason why those sixshould be different from any of the other casts. He could suggest nopossible cause why anyone should wish to destroy them--in fact, helaughed at the idea. Their wholesale price was six shillings, but theretailer would get twelve or more. The cast was taken in two moulds fromeach side of the face, and then these two profiles of plaster of Pariswere joined together to make the complete bust. The work was usuallydone by Italians, in the room we were in. When finished, the busts wereput on a table in the passage to dry, and afterwards stored. That wasall he could tell us. 

But the production of the photograph had a remarkable effect upon themanager. His face flushed with anger, and his brows knotted over hisblue Teutonic eyes. 

"Ah, the rascal!" he cried. "Yes, indeed, I know him very well. This hasalways been a respectable establishment, and the only time that we haveever had the police in it was over this very fellow. It was more than ayear ago now. He knifed another Italian in the street, and then he cameto the works with the police on his heels, and he was taken here. Beppowas his name--his second name I never knew. Serve me right for engaginga man with such a face. But he was a good workman--one of the best. "

"What did he get?"

"The man lived and he got off with a year. I have no doubt he is outnow, but he has not dared to show his nose here. We have a cousin of hishere, and I daresay he could tell you where he is. "

"No, no, " cried Holmes, "not a word to the cousin--not a word, I begof you. The matter is very important, and the farther I go with it, themore important it seems to grow. When you referred in your ledger to thesale of those casts I observed that the date was June 3rd of last year. Could you give me the date when Beppo was arrested?"

"I could tell you roughly by the pay-list, " the manager answered. "Yes, "he continued, after some turning over of pages, "he was paid last on May20th. "

"Thank you, " said Holmes. "I don't think that I need intrude upon yourtime and patience any more. " With a last word of caution that he shouldsay nothing as to our researches, we turned our faces westward oncemore. 

The afternoon was far advanced before we were able to snatch a hastyluncheon at a restaurant. A news-bill at the entrance announced"Kensington Outrage. Murder by a Madman, " and the contents of the papershowed that Mr. Horace Harker had got his account into print afterall. Two columns were occupied with a highly sensational and floweryrendering of the whole incident. Holmes propped it against thecruet-stand and read it while he ate. Once or twice he chuckled. 

"This is all right, Watson, " said he. "Listen to this:

"It is satisfactory to know that there can be no difference of opinionupon this case, since Mr. Lestrade, one of the most experiencedmembers of the official force, and Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the well knownconsulting expert, have each come to the conclusion that the grotesqueseries of incidents, which have ended in so tragic a fashion, arise fromlunacy rather than from deliberate crime. No explanation save mentalaberration can cover the facts. 

"The Press, Watson, is a most valuable institution, if you only know howto use it. And now, if you have quite finished, we will hark back toKensington and see what the manager of Harding Brothers has to say onthe matter. "

The founder of that great emporium proved to be a brisk, crisp littleperson, very dapper and quick, with a clear head and a ready tongue. 

"Yes, sir, I have already read the account in the evening papers. Mr. Horace Harker is a customer of ours. We supplied him with the bust somemonths ago. We ordered three busts of that sort from Gelder & Co. , ofStepney. They are all sold now. To whom? Oh, I daresay by consulting oursales book we could very easily tell you. Yes, we have the entries here. One to Mr. Harker you see, and one to Mr. Josiah Brown, of LaburnumLodge, Laburnum Vale, Chiswick, and one to Mr. Sandeford, of Lower GroveRoad, Reading. No, I have never seen this face which you show me in thephotograph. You would hardly forget it, would you, sir, for I've seldomseen an uglier. Have we any Italians on the staff? Yes, sir, we haveseveral among our workpeople and cleaners. I daresay they might get apeep at that sales book if they wanted to. There is no particular reasonfor keeping a watch upon that book. Well, well, it's a very strangebusiness, and I hope that you will let me know if anything comes of yourinquiries. "

Holmes had taken several notes during Mr. Harding's evidence, and Icould see that he was thoroughly satisfied by the turn which affairswere taking. He made no remark, however, save that, unless we hurried, we should be late for our appointment with Lestrade. Sure enough, whenwe reached Baker Street the detective was already there, and we foundhim pacing up and down in a fever of impatience. His look of importanceshowed that his day's work had not been in vain. 

"Well?" he asked. "What luck, Mr. Holmes?"

"We have had a very busy day, and not entirely a wasted one, " my friendexplained. "We have seen both the retailers and also the wholesalemanufacturers. I can trace each of the busts now from the beginning. "

"The busts, " cried Lestrade. "Well, well, you have your own methods, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and it is not for me to say a word against them, butI think I have done a better day's work than you. I have identified thedead man. "

"You don't say so?"

"And found a cause for the crime. "

"Splendid!"

"We have an inspector who makes a specialty of Saffron Hill and theItalian Quarter. Well, this dead man had some Catholic emblem round hisneck, and that, along with his colour, made me think he was from theSouth. Inspector Hill knew him the moment he caught sight of him. Hisname is Pietro Venucci, from Naples, and he is one of the greatestcut-throats in London. He is connected with the Mafia, which, as youknow, is a secret political society, enforcing its decrees by murder. Now, you see how the affair begins to clear up. The other fellow isprobably an Italian also, and a member of the Mafia. He has brokenthe rules in some fashion. Pietro is set upon his track. Probably thephotograph we found in his pocket is the man himself, so that he may notknife the wrong person. He dogs the fellow, he sees him enter a house, he waits outside for him, and in the scuffle he receives his owndeath-wound. How is that, Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"

Holmes clapped his hands approvingly. 

"Excellent, Lestrade, excellent!" he cried. "But I didn't quite followyour explanation of the destruction of the busts. "

"The busts! You never can get those busts out of your head. After all, that is nothing; petty larceny, six months at the most. It is the murderthat we are really investigating, and I tell you that I am gathering allthe threads into my hands. "

"And the next stage?"

"Is a very simple one. I shall go down with Hill to the Italian Quarter, find the man whose photograph we have got, and arrest him on the chargeof murder. Will you come with us?"

"I think not. I fancy we can attain our end in a simpler way. I can'tsay for certain, because it all depends--well, it all depends upona factor which is completely outside our control. But I have greathopes--in fact, the betting is exactly two to one--that if you will comewith us to-night I shall be able to help you to lay him by the heels. "

"In the Italian Quarter?"

"No, I fancy Chiswick is an address which is more likely to find him. Ifyou will come with me to Chiswick to-night, Lestrade, I'll promise to goto the Italian Quarter with you to-morrow, and no harm will be done bythe delay. And now I think that a few hours' sleep would do us all good, for I do not propose to leave before eleven o'clock, and it is unlikelythat we shall be back before morning. You'll dine with us, Lestrade, andthen you are welcome to the sofa until it is time for us to start. Inthe meantime, Watson, I should be glad if you would ring for an expressmessenger, for I have a letter to send and it is important that itshould go at once. "

Holmes spent the evening in rummaging among the files of the old dailypapers with which one of our lumber-rooms was packed. When at lasthe descended, it was with triumph in his eyes, but he said nothing toeither of us as to the result of his researches. For my own part, I hadfollowed step by step the methods by which he had traced the variouswindings of this complex case, and, though I could not yet perceive thegoal which we would reach, I understood clearly that Holmes expectedthis grotesque criminal to make an attempt upon the two remaining busts, one of which, I remembered, was at Chiswick. No doubt the object of ourjourney was to catch him in the very act, and I could not but admire thecunning with which my friend had inserted a wrong clue in the eveningpaper, so as to give the fellow the idea that he could continue hisscheme with impunity. I was not surprised when Holmes suggested thatI should take my revolver with me. He had himself picked up the loadedhunting-crop, which was his favourite weapon. 

A four-wheeler was at the door at eleven, and in it we drove to a spotat the other side of Hammersmith Bridge. Here the cabman was directed towait. A short walk brought us to a secluded road fringed with pleasanthouses, each standing in its own grounds. In the light of a streetlamp we read "Laburnum Villa" upon the gate-post of one of them. Theoccupants had evidently retired to rest, for all was dark save for afanlight over the hall door, which shed a single blurred circle on tothe garden path. The wooden fence which separated the grounds from theroad threw a dense black shadow upon the inner side, and here it wasthat we crouched. 

"I fear that you'll have a long wait, " Holmes whispered. "We may thankour stars that it is not raining. I don't think we can even venture tosmoke to pass the time. However, it's a two to one chance that we getsomething to pay us for our trouble. "

It proved, however, that our vigil was not to be so long as Holmes hadled us to fear, and it ended in a very sudden and singular fashion. Inan instant, without the least sound to warn us of his coming, the gardengate swung open, and a lithe, dark figure, as swift and active as anape, rushed up the garden path. We saw it whisk past the light thrownfrom over the door and disappear against the black shadow of the house. There was a long pause, during which we held our breath, and then a verygentle creaking sound came to our ears. The window was being opened. Thenoise ceased, and again there was a long silence. The fellow was makinghis way into the house. We saw the sudden flash of a dark lantern insidethe room. What he sought was evidently not there, for again we saw theflash through another blind, and then through another. 

"Let us get to the open window. We will nab him as he climbs out, "Lestrade whispered. 

But before we could move, the man had emerged again. As he came out intothe glimmering patch of light, we saw that he carried something whiteunder his arm. He looked stealthily all round him. The silence of thedeserted street reassured him. Turning his back upon us he laid downhis burden, and the next instant there was the sound of a sharp tap, followed by a clatter and rattle. The man was so intent upon what he wasdoing that he never heard our steps as we stole across the grass plot. With the bound of a tiger Holmes was on his back, and an instant laterLestrade and I had him by either wrist, and the handcuffs had beenfastened. As we turned him over I saw a hideous, sallow face, withwrithing, furious features, glaring up at us, and I knew that it wasindeed the man of the photograph whom we had secured. 

But it was not our prisoner to whom Holmes was giving his attention. Squatted on the doorstep, he was engaged in most carefully examiningthat which the man had brought from the house. It was a bust ofNapoleon, like the one which we had seen that morning, and it had beenbroken into similar fragments. Carefully Holmes held each separate shardto the light, but in no way did it differ from any other shattered pieceof plaster. He had just completed his examination when the hall lightsflew up, the door opened, and the owner of the house, a jovial, rotundfigure in shirt and trousers, presented himself. 

"Mr. Josiah Brown, I suppose?" said Holmes. 

"Yes, sir; and you, no doubt, are Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I had the notewhich you sent by the express messenger, and I did exactly what you toldme. We locked every door on the inside and awaited developments. Well, I'm very glad to see that you have got the rascal. I hope, gentlemen, that you will come in and have some refreshment. "

However, Lestrade was anxious to get his man into safe quarters, sowithin a few minutes our cab had been summoned and we were all four uponour way to London. Not a word would our captive say, but he glared at usfrom the shadow of his matted hair, and once, when my hand seemed withinhis reach, he snapped at it like a hungry wolf. We stayed long enoughat the police-station to learn that a search of his clothing revealednothing save a few shillings and a long sheath knife, the handle ofwhich bore copious traces of recent blood. 

"That's all right, " said Lestrade, as we parted. "Hill knows all thesegentry, and he will give a name to him. You'll find that my theory ofthe Mafia will work out all right. But I'm sure I am exceedingly obligedto you, Mr. Holmes, for the workmanlike way in which you laid hands uponhim. I don't quite understand it all yet. "

"I fear it is rather too late an hour for explanations, " said Holmes. "Besides, there are one or two details which are not finished off, andit is one of those cases which are worth working out to the very end. If you will come round once more to my rooms at six o'clock to-morrow, Ithink I shall be able to show you that even now you have not grasped theentire meaning of this business, which presents some features which makeit absolutely original in the history of crime. If ever I permit youto chronicle any more of my little problems, Watson, I foresee that youwill enliven your pages by an account of the singular adventure of theNapoleonic busts. "

When we met again next evening, Lestrade was furnished with muchinformation concerning our prisoner. His name, it appeared, was Beppo, second name unknown. He was a well-known ne'er-do-well among the Italiancolony. He had once been a skilful sculptor and had earned an honestliving, but he had taken to evil courses and had twice already been injail--once for a petty theft, and once, as we had already heard, forstabbing a fellow-countryman. He could talk English perfectly well. Hisreasons for destroying the busts were still unknown, and he refused toanswer any questions upon the subject, but the police had discoveredthat these same busts might very well have been made by his own hands, since he was engaged in this class of work at the establishment ofGelder & Co. To all this information, much of which we already knew, Holmes listened with polite attention, but I, who knew him so well, could clearly see that his thoughts were elsewhere, and I detected amixture of mingled uneasiness and expectation beneath that mask whichhe was wont to assume. At last he started in his chair, and his eyesbrightened. There had been a ring at the bell. A minute later we heardsteps upon the stairs, and an elderly red-faced man with grizzledside-whiskers was ushered in. In his right hand he carried anold-fashioned carpet-bag, which he placed upon the table. 

"Is Mr. Sherlock Holmes here?"

My friend bowed and smiled. "Mr. Sandeford, of Reading, I suppose?" saidhe. 

"Yes, sir, I fear that I am a little late, but the trains were awkward. You wrote to me about a bust that is in my possession. "

"Exactly. "

"I have your letter here. You said, 'I desire to possess a copy ofDevine's Napoleon, and am prepared to pay you ten pounds for the onewhich is in your possession. ' Is that right?"

"Certainly. "

"I was very much surprised at your letter, for I could not imagine howyou knew that I owned such a thing. "

"Of course you must have been surprised, but the explanation is verysimple. Mr. Harding, of Harding Brothers, said that they had sold youtheir last copy, and he gave me your address. "

"Oh, that was it, was it? Did he tell you what I paid for it?"

"No, he did not. "

"Well, I am an honest man, though not a very rich one. I only gavefifteen shillings for the bust, and I think you ought to know thatbefore I take ten pounds from you. 

"I am sure the scruple does you honour, Mr. Sandeford. But I have namedthat price, so I intend to stick to it. "

"Well, it is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes. I brought the bust upwith me, as you asked me to do. Here it is!" He opened his bag, and atlast we saw placed upon our table a complete specimen of that bust whichwe had already seen more than once in fragments. 

Holmes took a paper from his pocket and laid a ten-pound note upon thetable. 

"You will kindly sign that paper, Mr. Sandeford, in the presence ofthese witnesses. It is simply to say that you transfer every possibleright that you ever had in the bust to me. I am a methodical man, yousee, and you never know what turn events might take afterwards. Thankyou, Mr. Sandeford; here is your money, and I wish you a very goodevening. "

When our visitor had disappeared, Sherlock Holmes's movements were suchas to rivet our attention. He began by taking a clean white cloth froma drawer and laying it over the table. Then he placed his newly acquiredbust in the centre of the cloth. Finally, he picked up his hunting-cropand struck Napoleon a sharp blow on the top of the head. The figurebroke into fragments, and Holmes bent eagerly over the shatteredremains. Next instant, with a loud shout of triumph he held up onesplinter, in which a round, dark object was fixed like a plum in apudding. 

"Gentlemen, " he cried, "let me introduce you to the famous black pearlof the Borgias. "

Lestrade and I sat silent for a moment, and then, with a spontaneousimpulse, we both broke at clapping, as at the well-wrought crisis of aplay. A flush of colour sprang to Holmes's pale cheeks, and he bowed tous like the master dramatist who receives the homage of his audience. It was at such moments that for an instant he ceased to be a reasoningmachine, and betrayed his human love for admiration and applause. Thesame singularly proud and reserved nature which turned away with disdainfrom popular notoriety was capable of being moved to its depths byspontaneous wonder and praise from a friend. 

"Yes, gentlemen, " said he, "it is the most famous pearl now existingin the world, and it has been my good fortune, by a connected chain ofinductive reasoning, to trace it from the Prince of Colonna's bedroom atthe Dacre Hotel, where it was lost, to the interior of this, the lastof the six busts of Napoleon which were manufactured by Gelder & Co. , of Stepney. You will remember, Lestrade, the sensation caused by thedisappearance of this valuable jewel and the vain efforts of the Londonpolice to recover it. I was myself consulted upon the case, but I wasunable to throw any light upon it. Suspicion fell upon the maid of thePrincess, who was an Italian, and it was proved that she had a brotherin London, but we failed to trace any connection between them. Themaid's name was Lucretia Venucci, and there is no doubt in my mind thatthis Pietro who was murdered two nights ago was the brother. I have beenlooking up the dates in the old files of the paper, and I find that thedisappearance of the pearl was exactly two days before the arrest ofBeppo, for some crime of violence--an event which took place in thefactory of Gelder & Co. , at the very moment when these busts were beingmade. Now you clearly see the sequence of events, though you see them, of course, in the inverse order to the way in which they presentedthemselves to me. Beppo had the pearl in his possession. He may havestolen it from Pietro, he may have been Pietro's confederate, hemay have been the go-between of Pietro and his sister. It is of noconsequence to us which is the correct solution. 

"The main fact is that he HAD the pearl, and at that moment, when it wason his person, he was pursued by the police. He made for the factory inwhich he worked, and he knew that he had only a few minutes in which toconceal this enormously valuable prize, which would otherwise be foundon him when he was searched. Six plaster casts of Napoleon were dryingin the passage. One of them was still soft. In an instant Beppo, askilful workman, made a small hole in the wet plaster, dropped in thepearl, and with a few touches covered over the aperture once more. Itwas an admirable hiding-place. No one could possibly find it. But Beppowas condemned to a year's imprisonment, and in the meanwhile his sixbusts were scattered over London. He could not tell which contained histreasure. Only by breaking them could he see. Even shaking would tellhim nothing, for as the plaster was wet it was probable that the pearlwould adhere to it--as, in fact, it has done. Beppo did not despair, andhe conducted his search with considerable ingenuity and perseverance. Through a cousin who works with Gelder, he found out the retail firmswho had bought the busts. He managed to find employment with MorseHudson, and in that way tracked down three of them. The pearl was notthere. Then, with the help of some Italian employee, he succeeded infinding out where the other three busts had gone. The first was atHarker's. There he was dogged by his confederate, who held Bepporesponsible for the loss of the pearl, and he stabbed him in the scufflewhich followed. "

"If he was his confederate, why should he carry his photograph?" Iasked. 

"As a means of tracing him, if he wished to inquire about him from anythird person. That was the obvious reason. Well, after the murderI calculated that Beppo would probably hurry rather than delay hismovements. He would fear that the police would read his secret, and sohe hastened on before they should get ahead of him. Of course, I couldnot say that he had not found the pearl in Harker's bust. I had not evenconcluded for certain that it was the pearl, but it was evident to methat he was looking for something, since he carried the bust pastthe other houses in order to break it in the garden which had a lampoverlooking it. Since Harker's bust was one in three, the chances wereexactly as I told you--two to one against the pearl being inside it. There remained two busts, and it was obvious that he would go for theLondon one first. I warned the inmates of the house, so as to avoid asecond tragedy, and we went down, with the happiest results. By thattime, of course, I knew for certain that it was the Borgia pearl that wewere after. The name of the murdered man linked the one event with theother. There only remained a single bust--the Reading one--and the pearlmust be there. I bought it in your presence from the owner--and there itlies. "

We sat in silence for a moment. 

"Well, " said Lestrade, "I've seen you handle a good many cases, Mr. Holmes, but I don't know that I ever knew a more workmanlike one thanthat. We're not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are veryproud of you, and if you come down to-morrow, there's not a man, fromthe oldest inspector to the youngest constable, who wouldn't be glad toshake you by the hand. "

"Thank you!" said Holmes. "Thank you!" and as he turned away, it seemedto me that he was more nearly moved by the softer human emotions than Ihad ever seen him. A moment later he was the cold and practical thinkeronce more. "Put the pearl in the safe, Watson, " said he, "and get outthe papers of the Conk-Singleton forgery case. Good-bye, Lestrade. Ifany little problem comes your way, I shall be happy, if I can, to giveyou a hint or two as to its solution. "

THE ADVENTURE OF THE THREE STUDENTS

It was in the year '95 that a combination of events, into which I neednot enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes and myself to spend some weeks inone of our great university towns, and it was during this time that thesmall but instructive adventure which I am about to relate befell us. Itwill be obvious that any details which would help the reader exactly toidentify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretionthe incident itself may, however, be described, since it serves toillustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will endeavour, in my statement, to avoid such terms as would serveto limit the events to any particular place, or give a clue as to thepeople concerned. 

We were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a librarywhere Sherlock Holmes was pursuing some laborious researches in earlyEnglish charters--researches which led to results so striking that theymay be the subject of one of my future narratives. Here it was that oneevening we received a visit from an acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. Mr. Soames was a tall, spare man, of a nervous and excitable temperament. I had always knownhim to be restless in his manner, but on this particular occasion he wasin such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear somethingvery unusual had occurred. 

"I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuabletime. We have had a very painful incident at St. Luke's, and really, butfor the happy chance of your being in town, I should have been at a losswhat to do. "

"I am very busy just now, and I desire no distractions, " my friendanswered. "I should much prefer that you called in the aid of thepolice. "

"No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible. When once thelaw is evoked it cannot be stayed again, and this is just one of thosecases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential toavoid scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and youare the one man in the world who can help me. I beg you, Mr. Holmes, todo what you can. "

My friend's temper had not improved since he had been deprived of thecongenial surroundings of Baker Street. Without his scrapbooks, hischemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. Heshrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitorin hurried words and with much excitable gesticulation poured forth hisstory. 

"I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that to-morrow is the first dayof the examination for the Fortescue Scholarship. I am one of theexaminers. My subject is Greek, and the first of the papers consists ofa large passage of Greek translation which the candidate has not seen. This passage is printed on the examination paper, and it would naturallybe an immense advantage if the candidate could prepare it in advance. For this reason, great care is taken to keep the paper secret. 

"To-day, about three o'clock, the proofs of this paper arrived from theprinters. The exercise consists of half a chapter of Thucydides. I hadto read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. Atfour-thirty my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised totake tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof upon my desk. I wasabsent rather more than an hour. 

"You are aware, Mr. Holmes, that our college doors are double--a greenbaize one within and a heavy oak one without. As I approached my outerdoor, I was amazed to see a key in it. For an instant I imagined that Ihad left my own there, but on feeling in my pocket I found that it wasall right. The only duplicate which existed, so far as I knew, was thatwhich belonged to my servant, Bannister--a man who has looked after myroom for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. Ifound that the key was indeed his, that he had entered my room to knowif I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in thedoor when he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a veryfew minutes of my leaving it. His forgetfulness about the key wouldhave mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it hasproduced the most deplorable consequences. 

"The moment I looked at my table, I was aware that someone had rummagedamong my papers. The proof was in three long slips. I had left them alltogether. Now, I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one wason the side table near the window, and the third was where I had leftit. "

Holmes stirred for the first time. 

"The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third whereyou left it, " said he. 

"Exactly, Mr. Holmes. You amaze me. How could you possibly know that?"

"Pray continue your very interesting statement. "

"For an instant I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonableliberty of examining my papers. He denied it, however, with the utmostearnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. Thealternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had entered to look at the papers. A largesum of money is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain anadvantage over his fellows. 

"Bannister was very much upset by the incident. He had nearly faintedwhen we found that the papers had undoubtedly been tampered with. I gavehim a little brandy and left him collapsed in a chair, while I made amost careful examination of the room. I soon saw that the intruder hadleft other traces of his presence besides the rumpled papers. On thetable in the window were several shreds from a pencil which had beensharpened. A broken tip of lead was lying there also. Evidently therascal had copied the paper in a great hurry, had broken his pencil, andhad been compelled to put a fresh point to it. "

"Excellent!" said Holmes, who was recovering his good-humour as hisattention became more engrossed by the case. "Fortune has been yourfriend. "

"This was not all. I have a new writing-table with a fine surface of redleather. I am prepared to swear, and so is Bannister, that it wassmooth and unstained. Now I found a clean cut in it about three incheslong--not a mere scratch, but a positive cut. Not only this, but onthe table I found a small ball of black dough or clay, with specks ofsomething which looks like sawdust in it. I am convinced that thesemarks were left by the man who rifled the papers. There were nofootmarks and no other evidence as to his identity. I was at my wit'send, when suddenly the happy thought occurred to me that you were in thetown, and I came straight round to put the matter into your hands. Dohelp me, Mr. Holmes. You see my dilemma. Either I must find the man orelse the examination must be postponed until fresh papers are prepared, and since this cannot be done without explanation, there will ensue ahideous scandal, which will throw a cloud not only on the college, but on the university. Above all things, I desire to settle the matterquietly and discreetly. "

"I shall be happy to look into it and to give you such advice as Ican, " said Holmes, rising and putting on his overcoat. "The case is notentirely devoid of interest. Had anyone visited you in your room afterthe papers came to you?"

"Yes, young Daulat Ras, an Indian student, who lives on the same stair, came in to ask me some particulars about the examination. "

"For which he was entered?"

"Yes. "

"And the papers were on your table?"

"To the best of my belief, they were rolled up. "

"But might be recognized as proofs?"

"Possibly. "

"No one else in your room?"

"No. "

"Did anyone know that these proofs would be there?"

"No one save the printer. "

"Did this man Bannister know?"

"No, certainly not. No one knew. "

"Where is Bannister now?"

"He was very ill, poor fellow. I left him collapsed in the chair. I wasin such a hurry to come to you. "

"You left your door open?"

"I locked up the papers first. "

"Then it amounts to this, Mr. Soames: that, unless the Indian studentrecognized the roll as being proofs, the man who tampered with them cameupon them accidentally without knowing that they were there. "

"So it seems to me. "

Holmes gave an enigmatic smile. 

"Well, " said he, "let us go round. Not one of your cases, Watson--mental, not physical. All right; come if you want to. Now, Mr. Soames--at your disposal!"

The sitting-room of our client opened by a long, low, latticed window onto the ancient lichen-tinted court of the old college. A Gothic archeddoor led to a worn stone staircase. On the ground floor was the tutor'sroom. Above were three students, one on each story. It was alreadytwilight when we reached the scene of our problem. Holmes halted andlooked earnestly at the window. Then he approached it, and, standing ontiptoe with his neck craned, he looked into the room. 

"He must have entered through the door. There is no opening except theone pane, " said our learned guide. 

"Dear me!" said Holmes, and he smiled in a singular way as he glancedat our companion. "Well, if there is nothing to be learned here, we hadbest go inside. "

The lecturer unlocked the outer door and ushered us into his room. Westood at the entrance while Holmes made an examination of the carpet. 

"I am afraid there are no signs here, " said he. "One could hardly hopefor any upon so dry a day. Your servant seems to have quite recovered. You left him in a chair, you say. Which chair?"

"By the window there. "

"I see. Near this little table. You can come in now. I have finishedwith the carpet. Let us take the little table first. Of course, what hashappened is very clear. The man entered and took the papers, sheet bysheet, from the central table. He carried them over to the window table, because from there he could see if you came across the courtyard, and socould effect an escape. "

"As a matter of fact, he could not, " said Soames, "for I entered by theside door. "

"Ah, that's good! Well, anyhow, that was in his mind. Let me see thethree strips. No finger impressions--no! Well, he carried over this onefirst, and he copied it. How long would it take him to do that, usingevery possible contraction? A quarter of an hour, not less. Then hetossed it down and seized the next. He was in the midst of that whenyour return caused him to make a very hurried retreat--VERY hurried, since he had not time to replace the papers which would tell you that hehad been there. You were not aware of any hurrying feet on the stair asyou entered the outer door?"

"No, I can't say I was. "

"Well, he wrote so furiously that he broke his pencil, and had, as youobserve, to sharpen it again. This is of interest, Watson. The pencilwas not an ordinary one. It was above the usual size, with a soft lead, the outer colour was dark blue, the maker's name was printed in silverlettering, and the piece remaining is only about an inch and a halflong. Look for such a pencil, Mr. Soames, and you have got your man. When I add that he possesses a large and very blunt knife, you have anadditional aid. "

Mr. Soames was somewhat overwhelmed by this flood of information. "I canfollow the other points, " said he, "but really, in this matter of thelength----"

Holmes held out a small chip with the letters NN and a space of clearwood after them. 

"You see?"

"No, I fear that even now----"

"Watson, I have always done you an injustice. There are others. Whatcould this NN be? It is at the end of a word. You are aware that JohannFaber is the most common maker's name. Is it not clear that there isjust as much of the pencil left as usually follows the Johann?" He heldthe small table sideways to the electric light. "I was hoping thatif the paper on which he wrote was thin, some trace of it might comethrough upon this polished surface. No, I see nothing. I don't thinkthere is anything more to be learned here. Now for the central table. This small pellet is, I presume, the black, doughy mass you spoke of. Roughly pyramidal in shape and hollowed out, I perceive. As you say, there appear to be grains of sawdust in it. Dear me, this is veryinteresting. And the cut--a positive tear, I see. It began with athin scratch and ended in a jagged hole. I am much indebted to you fordirecting my attention to this case, Mr. Soames. Where does that doorlead to?"

"To my bedroom. "

"Have you been in it since your adventure?"

"No, I came straight away for you. "

"I should like to have a glance round. What a charming, old-fashionedroom! Perhaps you will kindly wait a minute, until I have examined thefloor. No, I see nothing. What about this curtain? You hang your clothesbehind it. If anyone were forced to conceal himself in this room he mustdo it there, since the bed is too low and the wardrobe too shallow. Noone there, I suppose?"

As Holmes drew the curtain I was aware, from some little rigidity andalertness of his attitude, that he was prepared for an emergency. As amatter of fact, the drawn curtain disclosed nothing but three or foursuits of clothes hanging from a line of pegs. Holmes turned away, andstooped suddenly to the floor. 

"Halloa! What's this?" said he. 

It was a small pyramid of black, putty-like stuff, exactly like the oneupon the table of the study. Holmes held it out on his open palm in theglare of the electric light. 

"Your visitor seems to have left traces in your bedroom as well as inyour sitting-room, Mr. Soames. "

"What could he have wanted there?"

"I think it is clear enough. You came back by an unexpected way, and sohe had no warning until you were at the very door. What could he do?He caught up everything which would betray him, and he rushed into yourbedroom to conceal himself. "

"Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, do you mean to tell me that, all the time Iwas talking to Bannister in this room, we had the man prisoner if we hadonly known it?"

"So I read it. "

"Surely there is another alternative, Mr. Holmes. I don't know whetheryou observed my bedroom window?"

"Lattice-paned, lead framework, three separate windows, one swinging onhinge, and large enough to admit a man. "

"Exactly. And it looks out on an angle of the courtyard so as to bepartly invisible. The man might have effected his entrance there, lefttraces as he passed through the bedroom, and finally, finding the dooropen, have escaped that way. "

Holmes shook his head impatiently. 

"Let us be practical, " said he. "I understand you to say that there arethree students who use this stair, and are in the habit of passing yourdoor?"

"Yes, there are. "

"And they are all in for this examination?"

"Yes. "

"Have you any reason to suspect any one of them more than the others?"

Soames hesitated. 

"It is a very delicate question, " said he. "One hardly likes to throwsuspicion where there are no proofs. "

"Let us hear the suspicions. I will look after the proofs. "

"I will tell you, then, in a few words the character of the three menwho inhabit these rooms. The lower of the three is Gilchrist, a finescholar and athlete, plays in the Rugby team and the cricket team forthe college, and got his Blue for the hurdles and the long jump. He isa fine, manly fellow. His father was the notorious Sir Jabez Gilchrist, who ruined himself on the turf. My scholar has been left very poor, buthe is hard-working and industrious. He will do well. 

"The second floor is inhabited by Daulat Ras, the Indian. He is a quiet, inscrutable fellow; as most of those Indians are. He is well up in hiswork, though his Greek is his weak subject. He is steady and methodical. 

"The top floor belongs to Miles McLaren. He is a brilliant fellow whenhe chooses to work--one of the brightest intellects of the university;but he is wayward, dissipated, and unprincipled. He was nearly expelledover a card scandal in his first year. He has been idling all this term, and he must look forward with dread to the examination. "

"Then it is he whom you suspect?"

"I dare not go so far as that. But, of the three, he is perhaps theleast unlikely. "

"Exactly. Now, Mr. Soames, let us have a look at your servant, Bannister. "

He was a little, white-faced, clean-shaven, grizzly-haired fellow offifty. He was still suffering from this sudden disturbance of the quietroutine of his life. His plump face was twitching with his nervousness, and his fingers could not keep still. 

"We are investigating this unhappy business, Bannister, " said hismaster. 

"Yes, sir. "

"I understand, " said Holmes, "that you left your key in the door?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Was it not very extraordinary that you should do this on the very daywhen there were these papers inside?"

"It was most unfortunate, sir. But I have occasionally done the samething at other times. "

"When did you enter the room?"

"It was about half-past four. That is Mr. Soames' tea time. "

"How long did you stay?"

"When I saw that he was absent, I withdrew at once. "

"Did you look at these papers on the table?"

"No, sir--certainly not. "

"How came you to leave the key in the door?"

"I had the tea-tray in my hand. I thought I would come back for the key. Then I forgot. "

"Has the outer door a spring lock?"

"No, sir. "

"Then it was open all the time?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Anyone in the room could get out?"

"Yes, sir. "

"When Mr. Soames returned and called for you, you were very muchdisturbed?"

"Yes, sir. Such a thing has never happened during the many years that Ihave been here. I nearly fainted, sir. "

"So I understand. Where were you when you began to feel bad?"

"Where was I, sir? Why, here, near the door. "

"That is singular, because you sat down in that chair over yonder nearthe corner. Why did you pass these other chairs?"

"I don't know, sir, it didn't matter to me where I sat. "

"I really don't think he knew much about it, Mr. Holmes. He was lookingvery bad--quite ghastly. "

"You stayed here when your master left?"

"Only for a minute or so. Then I locked the door and went to my room. "

"Whom do you suspect?"

"Oh, I would not venture to say, sir. I don't believe there is anygentleman in this university who is capable of profiting by such anaction. No, sir, I'll not believe it. "

"Thank you, that will do, " said Holmes. "Oh, one more word. You have notmentioned to any of the three gentlemen whom you attend that anything isamiss?"

"No, sir--not a word. "

"You haven't seen any of them?"

"No, sir. "

"Very good. Now, Mr. Soames, we will take a walk in the quadrangle, ifyou please. "

Three yellow squares of light shone above us in the gathering gloom. 

"Your three birds are all in their nests, " said Holmes, looking up. "Halloa! What's that? One of them seems restless enough. "

It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon hisblind. He was pacing swiftly up and down his room. 

"I should like to have a peep at each of them, " said Holmes. "Is itpossible?"

"No difficulty in the world, " Soames answered. "This set of rooms isquite the oldest in the college, and it is not unusual for visitors togo over them. Come along, and I will personally conduct you. "

"No names, please!" said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's door. Atall, flaxen-haired, slim young fellow opened it, and made us welcomewhen he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces ofmediaeval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed withone of them that he insisted on drawing it in his notebook, broke hispencil, had to borrow one from our host and finally borrowed a knife tosharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the roomsof the Indian--a silent, little, hook-nosed fellow, who eyed us askance, and was obviously glad when Holmes's architectural studies had come toan end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon theclue for which he was searching. Only at the third did our visit proveabortive. The outer door would not open to our knock, and nothing moresubstantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. "Idon't care who you are. You can go to blazes!" roared the angry voice. "Tomorrow's the exam, and I won't be drawn by anyone. "

"A rude fellow, " said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrewdown the stair. "Of course, he did not realize that it was I who wasknocking, but none the less his conduct was very uncourteous, and, indeed, under the circumstances rather suspicious. "

Holmes's response was a curious one. 

"Can you tell me his exact height?" he asked. 

"Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller than theIndian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose five foot six would be aboutit. "

"That is very important, " said Holmes. "And now, Mr. Soames, I wish yougood-night. "

Our guide cried aloud in his astonishment and dismay. "Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, you are surely not going to leave me in this abrupt fashion!You don't seem to realize the position. To-morrow is the examination. Imust take some definite action to-night. I cannot allow the examinationto be held if one of the papers has been tampered with. The situationmust be faced. "

"You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early to-morrow morningand chat the matter over. It is possible that I may be in a positionthen to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile, you changenothing--nothing at all. "

"Very good, Mr. Holmes. "

"You can be perfectly easy in your mind. We shall certainly find someway out of your difficulties. I will take the black clay with me, alsothe pencil cuttings. Good-bye. "

When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle, we again lookedup at the windows. The Indian still paced his room. The others wereinvisible. 

"Well, Watson, what do you think of it?" Holmes asked, as we came outinto the main street. "Quite a little parlour game--sort of three-cardtrick, is it not? There are your three men. It must be one of them. Youtake your choice. Which is yours?"

"The foul-mouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worstrecord. And yet that Indian was a sly fellow also. Why should he bepacing his room all the time?"

"There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learnanything by heart. "

"He looked at us in a queer way. "

"So would you, if a flock of strangers came in on you when you werepreparing for an examination next day, and every moment was ofvalue. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives--all wassatisfactory. But that fellow DOES puzzle me. "

"Who?"

"Why, Bannister, the servant. What's his game in the matter?"

"He impressed me as being a perfectly honest man. "

"So he did me. That's the puzzling part. Why should a perfectlyhonest man--Well, well, here's a large stationer's. We shall begin ourresearches here. "

There were only four stationers of any consequences in the town, and ateach Holmes produced his pencil chips, and bid high for a duplicate. Allwere agreed that one could be ordered, but that it was not a usual sizeof pencil and that it was seldom kept in stock. My friend did notappear to be depressed by his failure, but shrugged his shoulders inhalf-humorous resignation. 

"No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has runto nothing. But, indeed, I have little doubt that we can build up asufficient case without it. By Jove! my dear fellow, it is nearly nine, and the landlady babbled of green peas at seven-thirty. What with youreternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals, I expect thatyou will get notice to quit, and that I shall share your downfall--not, however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, thecareless servant, and the three enterprising students. "

Holmes made no further allusion to the matter that day, though he satlost in thought for a long time after our belated dinner. At eight inthe morning, he came into my room just as I finished my toilet. 

"Well, Watson, " said he, "it is time we went down to St. Luke's. Can youdo without breakfast?"

"Certainly. "

"Soames will be in a dreadful fidget until we are able to tell himsomething positive. "

"Have you anything positive to tell him?"

"I think so. "

"You have formed a conclusion?"

"Yes, my dear Watson, I have solved the mystery. "

"But what fresh evidence could you have got?"

"Aha! It is not for nothing that I have turned myself out of bed at theuntimely hour of six. I have put in two hours' hard work and covered atleast five miles, with something to show for it. Look at that!"

He held out his hand. On the palm were three little pyramids of black, doughy clay. 

"Why, Holmes, you had only two yesterday. "

"And one more this morning. It is a fair argument that wherever No. 3came from is also the source of Nos. 1 and 2. Eh, Watson? Well, comealong and put friend Soames out of his pain. "

The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiable agitationwhen we found him in his chambers. In a few hours the examination wouldcommence, and he was still in the dilemma between making the factspublic and allowing the culprit to compete for the valuable scholarship. He could hardly stand still so great was his mental agitation, and heran towards Holmes with two eager hands outstretched. 

"Thank heaven that you have come! I feared that you had given it up indespair. What am I to do? Shall the examination proceed?"

"Yes, let it proceed, by all means. "

"But this rascal?"

"He shall not compete. "

"You know him?"

"I think so. If this matter is not to become public, we must giveourselves certain powers and resolve ourselves into a small privatecourt-martial. You there, if you please, Soames! Watson you here! I'lltake the armchair in the middle. I think that we are now sufficientlyimposing to strike terror into a guilty breast. Kindly ring the bell!"

Bannister entered, and shrank back in evident surprise and fear at ourjudicial appearance. 

"You will kindly close the door, " said Holmes. "Now, Bannister, will youplease tell us the truth about yesterday's incident?"

The man turned white to the roots of his hair. 

"I have told you everything, sir. "

"Nothing to add?"

"Nothing at all, sir. "

"Well, then, I must make some suggestions to you. When you sat downon that chair yesterday, did you do so in order to conceal some objectwhich would have shown who had been in the room?"

Bannister's face was ghastly. 

"No, sir, certainly not. "

"It is only a suggestion, " said Holmes, suavely. "I frankly admit thatI am unable to prove it. But it seems probable enough, since the momentthat Mr. Soames's back was turned, you released the man who was hidingin that bedroom. "

Bannister licked his dry lips. 

"There was no man, sir. "

"Ah, that's a pity, Bannister. Up to now you may have spoken the truth, but now I know that you have lied. "

The man's face set in sullen defiance. 

"There was no man, sir. "

"Come, come, Bannister!"

"No, sir, there was no one. "

"In that case, you can give us no further information. Would you pleaseremain in the room? Stand over there near the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I am going to ask you to have the great kindness to go up to the room ofyoung Gilchrist, and to ask him to step down into yours. "

An instant later the tutor returned, bringing with him the student. Hewas a fine figure of a man, tall, lithe, and agile, with a springy stepand a pleasant, open face. His troubled blue eyes glanced at each of us, and finally rested with an expression of blank dismay upon Bannister inthe farther corner. 

"Just close the door, " said Holmes. "Now, Mr. Gilchrist, we are allquite alone here, and no one need ever know one word of what passesbetween us. We can be perfectly frank with each other. We want to know, Mr. Gilchrist, how you, an honourable man, ever came to commit such anaction as that of yesterday?"

The unfortunate young man staggered back, and cast a look full of horrorand reproach at Bannister. 

"No, no, Mr. Gilchrist, sir, I never said a word--never one word!" criedthe servant. 

"No, but you have now, " said Holmes. "Now, sir, you must see that afterBannister's words your position is hopeless, and that your only chancelies in a frank confession. "

For a moment Gilchrist, with upraised hand, tried to control hiswrithing features. The next he had thrown himself on his knees besidethe table, and burying his face in his hands, he had burst into a stormof passionate sobbing. 

"Come, come, " said Holmes, kindly, "it is human to err, and at leastno one can accuse you of being a callous criminal. Perhaps it would beeasier for you if I were to tell Mr. Soames what occurred, and you cancheck me where I am wrong. Shall I do so? Well, well, don't trouble toanswer. Listen, and see that I do you no injustice. 

"From the moment, Mr. Soames, that you said to me that no one, not evenBannister, could have told that the papers were in your room, the casebegan to take a definite shape in my mind. The printer one could, ofcourse, dismiss. He could examine the papers in his own office. TheIndian I also thought nothing of. If the proofs were in a roll, hecould not possibly know what they were. On the other hand, it seemed anunthinkable coincidence that a man should dare to enter the room, and that by chance on that very day the papers were on the table. Idismissed that. The man who entered knew that the papers were there. Howdid he know?

"When I approached your room, I examined the window. You amused me bysupposing that I was contemplating the possibility of someone havingin broad daylight, under the eyes of all these opposite rooms, forcedhimself through it. Such an idea was absurd. I was measuring how tall aman would need to be in order to see, as he passed, what papers were onthe central table. I am six feet high, and I could do it with an effort. No one less than that would have a chance. Already you see I had reasonto think that, if one of your three students was a man of unusualheight, he was the most worth watching of the three. 

"I entered, and I took you into my confidence as to the suggestions ofthe side table. Of the centre table I could make nothing, until inyour description of Gilchrist you mentioned that he was a long-distancejumper. Then the whole thing came to me in an instant, and I only neededcertain corroborative proofs, which I speedily obtained. 

"What happened with {sic} this: This young fellow had employed hisafternoon at the athletic grounds, where he had been practising thejump. He returned carrying his jumping-shoes, which are provided, as youare aware, with several sharp spikes. As he passed your window hesaw, by means of his great height, these proofs upon your table, andconjectured what they were. No harm would have been done had it not beenthat, as he passed your door, he perceived the key which had been leftby the carelessness of your servant. A sudden impulse came over him toenter, and see if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerousexploit for he could always pretend that he had simply looked in to aska question. 

"Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs, it was then thathe yielded to temptation. He put his shoes on the table. What was it youput on that chair near the window?"

"Gloves, " said the young man. 

Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. "He put his gloves on thechair, and he took the proofs, sheet by sheet, to copy them. He thoughtthe tutor must return by the main gate and that he would see him. As weknow, he came back by the side gate. Suddenly he heard him at the verydoor. There was no possible escape. He forgot his gloves but he caughtup his shoes and darted into the bedroom. You observe that the scratchon that table is slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of thebedroom door. That in itself is enough to show us that the shoe had beendrawn in that direction, and that the culprit had taken refuge there. The earth round the spike had been left on the table, and a secondsample was loosened and fell in the bedroom. I may add that I walked outto the athletic grounds this morning, saw that tenacious black clay isused in the jumping-pit and carried away a specimen of it, together withsome of the fine tan or sawdust which is strewn over it to prevent theathlete from slipping. Have I told the truth, Mr. Gilchrist?"

The student had drawn himself erect. 

"Yes, sir, it is true, " said he. 

"Good heavens! have you nothing to add?" cried Soames. 

"Yes, sir, I have, but the shock of this disgraceful exposure hasbewildered me. I have a letter here, Mr. Soames, which I wrote to youearly this morning in the middle of a restless night. It was before Iknew that my sin had found me out. Here it is, sir. You will see that Ihave said, 'I have determined not to go in for the examination. I havebeen offered a commission in the Rhodesian Police, and I am going out toSouth Africa at once. '"

"I am indeed pleased to hear that you did not intend to profit by yourunfair advantage, " said Soames. "But why did you change your purpose?"

Gilchrist pointed to Bannister. 

"There is the man who set me in the right path, " said he. 

"Come now, Bannister, " said Holmes. "It will be clear to you, from whatI have said, that only you could have let this young man out, since youwere left in the room, and must have locked the door when you went out. As to his escaping by that window, it was incredible. Can you not clearup the last point in this mystery, and tell us the reasons for youraction?"

"It was simple enough, sir, if you only had known, but, with all yourcleverness, it was impossible that you could know. Time was, sir, whenI was butler to old Sir Jabez Gilchrist, this young gentleman's father. When he was ruined I came to the college as servant, but I never forgotmy old employer because he was down in the world. I watched his son allI could for the sake of the old days. Well, sir, when I came into thisroom yesterday, when the alarm was given, the very first thing I saw wasMr. Gilchrist's tan gloves a-lying in that chair. I knew those gloveswell, and I understood their message. If Mr. Soames saw them, the gamewas up. I flopped down into that chair, and nothing would budge me untilMr. Soames he went for you. Then out came my poor young master, whom Ihad dandled on my knee, and confessed it all to me. Wasn't it natural, sir, that I should save him, and wasn't it natural also that I shouldtry to speak to him as his dead father would have done, and make himunderstand that he could not profit by such a deed? Could you blame me, sir?"

"No, indeed, " said Holmes, heartily, springing to his feet. "Well, Soames, I think we have cleared your little problem up, and ourbreakfast awaits us at home. Come, Watson! As to you, sir, I trust thata bright future awaits you in Rhodesia. For once you have fallen low. Let us see, in the future, how high you can rise. "

THE ADVENTURE OF THE GOLDEN PINCE-NEZ

When I look at the three massive manuscript volumes which contain ourwork for the year 1894, I confess that it is very difficult for me, out of such a wealth of material, to select the cases which are mostinteresting in themselves, and at the same time most conducive to adisplay of those peculiar powers for which my friend was famous. As Iturn over the pages, I see my notes upon the repulsive story of the redleech and the terrible death of Crosby, the banker. Here also I findan account of the Addleton tragedy, and the singular contents of theancient British barrow. The famous Smith-Mortimer succession case comesalso within this period, and so does the tracking and arrest of Huret, the Boulevard assassin--an exploit which won for Holmes an autographletter of thanks from the French President and the Order of the Legionof Honour. Each of these would furnish a narrative, but on the wholeI am of opinion that none of them unites so many singular points ofinterest as the episode of Yoxley Old Place, which includes not only thelamentable death of young Willoughby Smith, but also those subsequentdevelopments which threw so curious a light upon the causes of thecrime. 

It was a wild, tempestuous night, towards the close of November. Holmes and I sat together in silence all the evening, he engaged with apowerful lens deciphering the remains of the original inscription upona palimpsest, I deep in a recent treatise upon surgery. Outside thewind howled down Baker Street, while the rain beat fiercely against thewindows. It was strange there, in the very depths of the town, with tenmiles of man's handiwork on every side of us, to feel the iron grip ofNature, and to be conscious that to the huge elemental forces all Londonwas no more than the molehills that dot the fields. I walked to thewindow, and looked out on the deserted street. The occasional lampsgleamed on the expanse of muddy road and shining pavement. A single cabwas splashing its way from the Oxford Street end. 

"Well, Watson, it's as well we have not to turn out to-night, " saidHolmes, laying aside his lens and rolling up the palimpsest. "I've doneenough for one sitting. It is trying work for the eyes. So far as I canmake out, it is nothing more exciting than an Abbey's accounts datingfrom the second half of the fifteenth century. Halloa! halloa! halloa!What's this?"

Amid the droning of the wind there had come the stamping of a horse'shoofs, and the long grind of a wheel as it rasped against the curb. Thecab which I had seen had pulled up at our door. 

"What can he want?" I ejaculated, as a man stepped out of it. 

"Want? He wants us. And we, my poor Watson, want overcoats and cravatsand goloshes, and every aid that man ever invented to fight the weather. Wait a bit, though! There's the cab off again! There's hope yet. He'dhave kept it if he had wanted us to come. Run down, my dear fellow, andopen the door, for all virtuous folk have been long in bed. "

When the light of the hall lamp fell upon our midnight visitor, I had nodifficulty in recognizing him. It was young Stanley Hopkins, a promisingdetective, in whose career Holmes had several times shown a verypractical interest. 

"Is he in?" he asked, eagerly. 

"Come up, my dear sir, " said Holmes's voice from above. "I hope you haveno designs upon us such a night as this. "

The detective mounted the stairs, and our lamp gleamed upon his shiningwaterproof. I helped him out of it, while Holmes knocked a blaze out ofthe logs in the grate. 

"Now, my dear Hopkins, draw up and warm your toes, " said he. "Here'sa cigar, and the doctor has a prescription containing hot water and alemon, which is good medicine on a night like this. It must be somethingimportant which has brought you out in such a gale. "

"It is indeed, Mr. Holmes. I've had a bustling afternoon, I promise you. Did you see anything of the Yoxley case in the latest editions?"

"I've seen nothing later than the fifteenth century to-day. "

"Well, it was only a paragraph, and all wrong at that, so you have notmissed anything. I haven't let the grass grow under my feet. It's downin Kent, seven miles from Chatham and three from the railway line. Iwas wired for at 3:15, reached Yoxley Old Place at 5, conducted myinvestigation, was back at Charing Cross by the last train, and straightto you by cab. "

"Which means, I suppose, that you are not quite clear about your case?"

"It means that I can make neither head nor tail of it. So far as I cansee, it is just as tangled a business as ever I handled, and yet atfirst it seemed so simple that one couldn't go wrong. There's no motive, Mr. Holmes. That's what bothers me--I can't put my hand on a motive. Here's a man dead--there's no denying that--but, so far as I can see, noreason on earth why anyone should wish him harm. "

Holmes lit his cigar and leaned back in his chair. 

"Let us hear about it, " said he. 

"I've got my facts pretty clear, " said Stanley Hopkins. "All I want nowis to know what they all mean. The story, so far as I can make it out, is like this. Some years ago this country house, Yoxley Old Place, wastaken by an elderly man, who gave the name of Professor Coram. He wasan invalid, keeping his bed half the time, and the other half hobblinground the house with a stick or being pushed about the grounds by thegardener in a Bath chair. He was well liked by the few neighbours whocalled upon him, and he has the reputation down there of being a verylearned man. His household used to consist of an elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Marker, and of a maid, Susan Tarlton. These have both been with himsince his arrival, and they seem to be women of excellent character. Theprofessor is writing a learned book, and he found it necessary, abouta year ago, to engage a secretary. The first two that he tried werenot successes, but the third, Mr. Willoughby Smith, a very young manstraight from the university, seems to have been just what his employerwanted. His work consisted in writing all the morning to the professor'sdictation, and he usually spent the evening in hunting up references andpassages which bore upon the next day's work. This Willoughby Smith hasnothing against him, either as a boy at Uppingham or as a young man atCambridge. I have seen his testimonials, and from the first he was adecent, quiet, hard-working fellow, with no weak spot in him at all. And yet this is the lad who has met his death this morning in theprofessor's study under circumstances which can point only to murder. "

The wind howled and screamed at the windows. Holmes and I drew closer tothe fire, while the young inspector slowly and point by point developedhis singular narrative. 

"If you were to search all England, " said he, "I don't suppose you couldfind a household more self-contained or freer from outside influences. Whole weeks would pass, and not one of them go past the garden gate. The professor was buried in his work and existed for nothing else. Young Smith knew nobody in the neighbourhood, and lived very much ashis employer did. The two women had nothing to take them from thehouse. Mortimer, the gardener, who wheels the Bath chair, is an armypensioner--an old Crimean man of excellent character. He does not livein the house, but in a three-roomed cottage at the other end of thegarden. Those are the only people that you would find within the groundsof Yoxley Old Place. At the same time, the gate of the garden is ahundred yards from the main London to Chatham road. It opens with alatch, and there is nothing to prevent anyone from walking in. 

"Now I will give you the evidence of Susan Tarlton, who is the onlyperson who can say anything positive about the matter. It was in theforenoon, between eleven and twelve. She was engaged at the moment inhanging some curtains in the upstairs front bedroom. Professor Coram wasstill in bed, for when the weather is bad he seldom rises before midday. The housekeeper was busied with some work in the back of thehouse. Willoughby Smith had been in his bedroom, which he uses as asitting-room, but the maid heard him at that moment pass along thepassage and descend to the study immediately below her. She did notsee him, but she says that she could not be mistaken in his quick, firmtread. She did not hear the study door close, but a minute or so laterthere was a dreadful cry in the room below. It was a wild, hoarsescream, so strange and unnatural that it might have come either from aman or a woman. At the same instant there was a heavy thud, which shookthe old house, and then all was silence. The maid stood petrified for amoment, and then, recovering her courage, she ran downstairs. The studydoor was shut and she opened it. Inside, young Mr. Willoughby Smith wasstretched upon the floor. At first she could see no injury, but as shetried to raise him she saw that blood was pouring from the underside ofhis neck. It was pierced by a very small but very deep wound, which haddivided the carotid artery. The instrument with which the injury hadbeen inflicted lay upon the carpet beside him. It was one of those smallsealing-wax knives to be found on old-fashioned writing-tables, withan ivory handle and a stiff blade. It was part of the fittings of theprofessor's own desk. 

"At first the maid thought that young Smith was already dead, but onpouring some water from the carafe over his forehead he opened his eyesfor an instant. 'The professor, ' he murmured--'it was she. ' The maid isprepared to swear that those were the exact words. He tried desperatelyto say something else, and he held his right hand up in the air. Then hefell back dead. 

"In the meantime the housekeeper had also arrived upon the scene, butshe was just too late to catch the young man's dying words. LeavingSusan with the body, she hurried to the professors room. He was sittingup in bed, horribly agitated, for he had heard enough to convince himthat something terrible had occurred. Mrs. Marker is prepared to swearthat the professor was still in his night-clothes, and indeed it wasimpossible for him to dress without the help of Mortimer, whose orderswere to come at twelve o'clock. The professor declares that he heard thedistant cry, but that he knows nothing more. He can give no explanationof the young man's last words, 'The professor--it was she, ' but imaginesthat they were the outcome of delirium. He believes that WilloughbySmith had not an enemy in the world, and can give no reason for thecrime. His first action was to send Mortimer, the gardener, for thelocal police. A little later the chief constable sent for me. Nothingwas moved before I got there, and strict orders were given that noone should walk upon the paths leading to the house. It was a splendidchance of putting your theories into practice, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. There was really nothing wanting. "

"Except Mr. Sherlock Holmes, " said my companion, with a somewhat bittersmile. "Well, let us hear about it. What sort of a job did you make ofit?"

"I must ask you first, Mr. Holmes, to glance at this rough plan, whichwill give you a general idea of the position of the professor's studyand the various points of the case. It will help you in following myinvestigation. "

He unfolded the rough chart, which I here reproduce, GRAPHIC

and he laid it across Holmes's knee. I rose and, standing behind Holmes, studied it over his shoulder. 

"It is very rough, of course, and it only deals with the pointswhich seem to me to be essential. All the rest you will see later foryourself. Now, first of all, presuming that the assassin entered thehouse, how did he or she come in? Undoubtedly by the garden path and theback door, from which there is direct access to the study. Any other waywould have been exceedingly complicated. The escape must have also beenmade along that line, for of the two other exits from the room one wasblocked by Susan as she ran downstairs and the other leads straight tothe professor's bedroom. I therefore directed my attention at onceto the garden path, which was saturated with recent rain, and wouldcertainly show any footmarks. 

"My examination showed me that I was dealing with a cautious and expertcriminal. No footmarks were to be found on the path. There could be noquestion, however, that someone had passed along the grass border whichlines the path, and that he had done so in order to avoid leaving atrack. I could not find anything in the nature of a distinct impression, but the grass was trodden down, and someone had undoubtedly passed. Itcould only have been the murderer, since neither the gardener nor anyoneelse had been there that morning, and the rain had only begun during thenight. "

"One moment, " said Holmes. "Where does this path lead to?"

"To the road. "

"How long is it?"

"A hundred yards or so. "

"At the point where the path passes through the gate, you could surelypick up the tracks?"

"Unfortunately, the path was tiled at that point. "

"Well, on the road itself?"

"No, it was all trodden into mire. "

"Tut-tut! Well, then, these tracks upon the grass, were they coming orgoing?"

"It was impossible to say. There was never any outline. "

"A large foot or a small?"

"You could not distinguish. "

Holmes gave an ejaculation of impatience. 

"It has been pouring rain and blowing a hurricane ever since, " saidhe. "It will be harder to read now than that palimpsest. Well, well, itcan't be helped. What did you do, Hopkins, after you had made certainthat you had made certain of nothing?"

"I think I made certain of a good deal, Mr. Holmes. I knew that someonehad entered the house cautiously from without. I next examined thecorridor. It is lined with cocoanut matting and had taken no impressionof any kind. This brought me into the study itself. It is a scantilyfurnished room. The main article is a large writing-table with a fixedbureau. This bureau consists of a double column of drawers, with acentral small cupboard between them. The drawers were open, the cupboardlocked. The drawers, it seems, were always open, and nothing of valuewas kept in them. There were some papers of importance in the cupboard, but there were no signs that this had been tampered with, and theprofessor assures me that nothing was missing. It is certain that norobbery has been committed. 

"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 onthe right side of the neck and from behind forward, so that it is almostimpossible that it could have been self-inflicted. "

"Unless he fell upon the knife, " said Holmes. 

"Exactly. The idea crossed my mind. But we found the knife some feetaway from the body, so that seems impossible. Then, of course, there arethe man's own dying words. And, finally, there was this very importantpiece of evidence which was found clasped in the dead man's right hand. "

From his pocket Stanley Hopkins drew a small paper packet. He unfoldedit and disclosed a golden pince-nez, with two broken ends of blacksilk cord dangling from the end of it. "Willoughby Smith had excellentsight, " he added. "There can be no question that this was snatched fromthe face or the person of the assassin. "

Sherlock Holmes took the glasses into his hand, and examined them withthe utmost attention and interest. He held them on his nose, endeavouredto read through them, went to the window and stared up the street withthem, looked at them most minutely in the full light of the lamp, andfinally, with a chuckle, seated himself at the table and wrote a fewlines upon a sheet of paper, which he tossed across to Stanley Hopkins. 

"That's the best I can do for you, " said he. "It may prove to be of someuse. "

The astonished detective read the note aloud. It ran as follows:

"Wanted, a woman of good address, attired like a lady. She has aremarkably thick nose, with eyes which are set close upon either sideof it. She has a puckered forehead, a peering expression, and probablyrounded shoulders. There are indications that she has had recourse to anoptician at least twice during the last few months. As her glasses areof remarkable strength, and as opticians are not very numerous, thereshould be no difficulty in tracing her. "

Holmes smiled at the astonishment of Hopkins, which must have beenreflected upon my features. "Surely my deductions are simplicityitself, " said he. "It would be difficult to name any articles whichafford a finer field for inference than a pair of glasses, especiallyso remarkable a pair as these. That they belong to a woman I infer fromtheir delicacy, and also, of course, from the last words of the dyingman. As to her being a person of refinement and well dressed, theyare, as you perceive, handsomely mounted in solid gold, and it isinconceivable that anyone who wore such glasses could be slatternly inother respects. You will find that the clips are too wide for your nose, showing that the lady's nose was very broad at the base. This sort ofnose is usually a short and coarse one, but there is a sufficient numberof exceptions to prevent me from being dogmatic or from insisting uponthis point in my description. My own face is a narrow one, and yet Ifind that I cannot get my eyes into the centre, nor near the centre, ofthese glasses. Therefore, the lady's eyes are set very near to the sidesof the nose. You will perceive, Watson, that the glasses are concaveand of unusual strength. A lady whose vision has been so extremelycontracted all her life is sure to have the physical characteristicsof such vision, which are seen in the forehead, the eyelids, and theshoulders. "

"Yes, " I said, "I can follow each of your arguments. I confess, however, that I am unable to understand how you arrive at the double visit to theoptician. "

Holmes took the glasses in his hand. 

"You will perceive, " he said, "that the clips are lined with tinybands of cork to soften the pressure upon the nose. One of these isdiscoloured and worn to some slight extent, but the other is new. Evidently one has fallen off and been replaced. I should judge that theolder of them has not been there more than a few months. Theyexactly correspond, so I gather that the lady went back to the sameestablishment for the second. "

"By George, it's marvellous!" cried Hopkins, in an ecstasy ofadmiration. "To think that I had all that evidence in my hand andnever knew it! I had intended, however, to go the round of the Londonopticians. "

"Of course you would. Meanwhile, have you anything more to tell us aboutthe case?"

"Nothing, Mr. Holmes. I think that you know as much as I donow--probably more. We have had inquiries made as to any stranger seenon the country roads or at the railway station. We have heard of none. What beats me is the utter want of all object in the crime. Not a ghostof a motive can anyone suggest. "

"Ah! there I am not in a position to help you. But I suppose you want usto come out to-morrow?"

"If it is not asking too much, Mr. Holmes. There's a train from CharingCross to Chatham at six in the morning, and we should be at Yoxley OldPlace between eight and nine. "

"Then we shall take it. Your case has certainly some features of greatinterest, and I shall be delighted to look into it. Well, it's nearlyone, and we had best get a few hours' sleep. I daresay you can manageall right on the sofa in front of the fire. I'll light my spirit lamp, and give you a cup of coffee before we start. "

The gale had blown itself out next day, but it was a bitter morning whenwe started upon our journey. We saw the cold winter sun rise over thedreary marshes of the Thames and the long, sullen reaches of the river, which I shall ever associate with our pursuit of the Andaman Islanderin the earlier days of our career. After a long and weary journey, wealighted at a small station some miles from Chatham. While a horse wasbeing put into a trap at the local inn, we snatched a hurried breakfast, and so we were all ready for business when we at last arrived at YoxleyOld Place. A constable met us at the garden gate. 

"Well, Wilson, any news?"

"No, sir--nothing. "

"No reports of any stranger seen?"

"No, sir. Down at the station they are certain that no stranger eithercame or went yesterday. "

"Have you had inquiries made at inns and lodgings?"

"Yes, sir: there is no one that we cannot account for. "

"Well, it's only a reasonable walk to Chatham. Anyone might stay thereor take a train without being observed. This is the garden path ofwhich I spoke, Mr. Holmes. I'll pledge my word there was no mark on ityesterday. "

"On which side were the marks on the grass?"

"This side, sir. This narrow margin of grass between the path and theflower-bed. I can't see the traces now, but they were clear to me then. "

"Yes, yes: someone has passed along, " said Holmes, stooping over thegrass border. "Our lady must have picked her steps carefully, must shenot, since on the one side she would leave a track on the path, and onthe other an even clearer one on the soft bed?"

"Yes, sir, she must have been a cool hand. "

I saw an intent look pass over Holmes's face. 

"You say that she must have come back this way?"

"Yes, sir, there is no other. "

"On this strip of grass?"

"Certainly, Mr. Holmes. "

"Hum! It was a very remarkable performance--very remarkable. Well, Ithink we have exhausted the path. Let us go farther. This garden door isusually kept open, I suppose? Then this visitor had nothing to do butto walk in. The idea of murder was not in her mind, or she would haveprovided herself with some sort of weapon, instead of having to pickthis knife off the writing-table. She advanced along this corridor, leaving no traces upon the cocoanut matting. Then she found herself inthis study. How long was she there? We have no means of judging. "

"Not more than a few minutes, sir. I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Marker, the housekeeper, had been in there tidying not very longbefore--about a quarter of an hour, she says. "

"Well, that gives us a limit. Our lady enters this room, and what doesshe do? She goes over to the writing-table. What for? Not for anythingin the drawers. If there had been anything worth her taking, it wouldsurely have been locked up. No, it was for something in that woodenbureau. Halloa! what is that scratch upon the face of it? Just hold amatch, Watson. Why did you not tell me of this, Hopkins?"

The mark which he was examining began upon the brass-work on theright-hand side of the keyhole, and extended for about four inches, where it had scratched the varnish from the surface. 

"I noticed it, Mr. Holmes, but you'll always find scratches round akeyhole. "

"This is recent, quite recent. See how the brass shines where it iscut. An old scratch would be the same colour as the surface. Look at itthrough my lens. There's the varnish, too, like earth on each side of afurrow. Is Mrs. Marker there?"

A sad-faced, elderly woman came into the room. 

"Did you dust this bureau yesterday morning?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Did you notice this scratch?"

"No, sir, I did not. "

"I am sure you did not, for a duster would have swept away these shredsof varnish. Who has the key of this bureau?"

"The Professor keeps it on his watch-chain. "

"Is it a simple key?"

"No, sir, it is a Chubb's key. "

"Very good. Mrs. Marker, you can go. Now we are making a littleprogress. Our lady enters the room, advances to the bureau, and eitheropens it or tries to do so. While she is thus engaged, young WilloughbySmith enters the room. In her hurry to withdraw the key, she makes thisscratch upon the door. He seizes her, and she, snatching up the nearestobject, which happens to be this knife, strikes at him in order to makehim let go his hold. The blow is a fatal one. He falls and she escapes, either with or without the object for which she has come. Is Susan, themaid, there? Could anyone have got away through that door after the timethat you heard the cry, Susan?"

"No sir, it is impossible. Before I got down the stair, I'd have seenanyone in the passage. Besides, the door never opened, or I would haveheard it. "

"That settles this exit. Then no doubt the lady went out the way shecame. I understand that this other passage leads only to the professor'sroom. There is no exit that way?"

"No, sir. "

"We shall go down it and make the acquaintance of the professor. Halloa, Hopkins! this is very important, very important indeed. The professor'scorridor is also lined with cocoanut matting. "

"Well, sir, what of that?"

"Don't you see any bearing upon the case? Well, well. I don't insistupon it. No doubt I am wrong. And yet it seems to me to be suggestive. Come with me and introduce me. "

We passed down the passage, which was of the same length as that whichled to the garden. At the end was a short flight of steps ending ina door. Our guide knocked, and then ushered us into the professor'sbedroom. 

It was a very large chamber, lined with innumerable volumes, which hadoverflowed from the shelves and lay in piles in the corners, or werestacked all round at the base of the cases. The bed was in the centreof the room, and in it, propped up with pillows, was the owner of thehouse. I have seldom seen a more remarkable-looking person. It was agaunt, aquiline face which was turned towards us, with piercing darkeyes, which lurked in deep hollows under overhung and tufted brows. Hishair and beard were white, save that the latter was curiously stainedwith yellow around his mouth. A cigarette glowed amid the tangle ofwhite hair, and the air of the room was fetid with stale tobacco smoke. As he held out his hand to Holmes, I perceived that it was also stainedwith yellow nicotine. 

"A smoker, Mr. Holmes?" said he, speaking in well-chosen English, witha curious little mincing accent. "Pray take a cigarette. And you, sir?I can recommend them, for I have them especially prepared by Ionides, ofAlexandria. He sends me a thousand at a time, and I grieve to say that Ihave to arrange for a fresh supply every fortnight. Bad, sir, very bad, but an old man has few pleasures. Tobacco and my work--that is all thatis left to me. "

Holmes had lit a cigarette and was shooting little darting glances allover the room. 

"Tobacco and my work, but now only tobacco, " the old man exclaimed. "Alas! what a fatal interruption! Who could have foreseen such aterrible catastrophe? So estimable a young man! I assure you that, aftera few months' training, he was an admirable assistant. What do you thinkof the matter, Mr. Holmes?"

"I have not yet made up my mind. "

"I shall indeed be indebted to you if you can throw a light where all isso dark to us. To a poor bookworm and invalid like myself such a blowis paralyzing. I seem to have lost the faculty of thought. But you area man of action--you are a man of affairs. It is part of the everydayroutine of your life. You can preserve your balance in every emergency. We are fortunate, indeed, in having you at our side. "

Holmes was pacing up and down one side of the room whilst the oldprofessor was talking. I observed that he was smoking with extraordinaryrapidity. It was evident that he shared our host's liking for the freshAlexandrian cigarettes. 

"Yes, sir, it is a crushing blow, " said the old man. "That is my MAGNUMOPUS--the pile of papers on the side table yonder. It is my analysis ofthe documents found in the Coptic monasteries of Syria and Egypt, a workwhich will cut deep at the very foundation of revealed religion. With myenfeebled health I do not know whether I shall ever be able to completeit, now that my assistant has been taken from me. Dear me! Mr. Holmes, why, you are even a quicker smoker than I am myself. "

Holmes smiled. 

"I am a connoisseur, " said he, taking another cigarette from thebox--his fourth--and lighting it from the stub of that which he hadfinished. "I will not trouble you with any lengthy cross-examination, Professor Coram, since I gather that you were in bed at the time of thecrime, and could know nothing about it. I would only ask this: Whatdo you imagine that this poor fellow meant by his last words: 'Theprofessor--it was she'?"

The professor shook his head. 

"Susan is a country girl, " said he, "and you know the incrediblestupidity of that class. I fancy that the poor fellow murmured someincoherent delirious words, and that she twisted them into thismeaningless message. "

"I see. You have no explanation yourself of the tragedy?"

"Possibly an accident, possibly--I only breathe it among ourselves--asuicide. Young men have their hidden troubles--some affair of the heart, perhaps, which we have never known. It is a more probable suppositionthan murder. "

"But the eyeglasses?"

"Ah! I am only a student--a man of dreams. I cannot explain thepractical things of life. But still, we are aware, my friend, thatlove-gages may take strange shapes. By all means take another cigarette. It is a pleasure to see anyone appreciate them so. A fan, a glove, glasses--who knows what article may be carried as a token or treasuredwhen a man puts an end to his life? This gentleman speaks of footstepsin the grass, but, after all, it is easy to be mistaken on such a point. As to the knife, it might well be thrown far from the unfortunate man ashe fell. It is possible that I speak as a child, but to me it seems thatWilloughby Smith has met his fate by his own hand. "

Holmes seemed struck by the theory thus put forward, and he continued towalk up and down for some time, lost in thought and consuming cigaretteafter cigarette. 

"Tell me, Professor Coram, " he said, at last, "what is in that cupboardin the bureau?"

"Nothing that would help a thief. Family papers, letters from my poorwife, diplomas of universities which have done me honour. Here is thekey. You can look for yourself. "

Holmes picked up the key, and looked at it for an instant, then hehanded it back. 

"No, I hardly think that it would help me, " said he. "I should preferto go quietly down to your garden, and turn the whole matter over in myhead. There is something to be said for the theory of suicide whichyou have put forward. We must apologize for having intruded upon you, Professor Coram, and I promise that we won't disturb you until afterlunch. At two o'clock we will come again, and report to you anythingwhich may have happened in the interval. "

Holmes was curiously distrait, and we walked up and down the garden pathfor some time in silence. 

"Have you a clue?" I asked, at last. 

"It depends upon those cigarettes that I smoked, " said he. "It ispossible that I am utterly mistaken. The cigarettes will show me. "

"My dear Holmes, " I exclaimed, "how on earth----"

"Well, well, you may see for yourself. If not, there's no harm done. Ofcourse, we always have the optician clue to fall back upon, but I takea short cut when I can get it. Ah, here is the good Mrs. Marker! Let usenjoy five minutes of instructive conversation with her. "

I may have remarked before that Holmes had, when he liked, a peculiarlyingratiating way with women, and that he very readily established termsof confidence with them. In half the time which he had named, he hadcaptured the housekeeper's goodwill and was chatting with her as if hehad known her for years. 

"Yes, Mr. Holmes, it is as you say, sir. He does smoke somethingterrible. All day and sometimes all night, sir. I've seen that room ofa morning--well, sir, you'd have thought it was a London fog. Poor youngMr. Smith, he was a smoker also, but not as bad as the professor. Hishealth--well, I don't know that it's better nor worse for the smoking. "

"Ah!" said Holmes, "but it kills the appetite. "

"Well, I don't know about that, sir. "

"I suppose the professor eats hardly anything?"

"Well, he is variable. I'll say that for him. "

"I'll wager he took no breakfast this morning, and won't face his lunchafter all the cigarettes I saw him consume. "

"Well, you're out there, sir, as it happens, for he ate a remarkable bigbreakfast this morning. I don't know when I've known him make abetter one, and he's ordered a good dish of cutlets for his lunch. I'msurprised myself, for since I came into that room yesterday and sawyoung Mr. Smith lying there on the floor, I couldn't bear to look atfood. Well, it takes all sorts to make a world, and the professor hasn'tlet it take his appetite away. "

We loitered the morning away in the garden. Stanley Hopkins had gonedown to the village to look into some rumours of a strange woman who hadbeen seen by some children on the Chatham Road the previous morning. Asto my friend, all his usual energy seemed to have deserted him. I hadnever known him handle a case in such a half-hearted fashion. Even thenews brought back by Hopkins that he had found the children, and thatthey had undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding with Holmes'sdescription, and wearing either spectacles or eyeglasses, failed torouse any sign of keen interest. He was more attentive when Susan, whowaited upon us at lunch, volunteered the information that she believedMr. Smith had been out for a walk yesterday morning, and that he hadonly returned half an hour before the tragedy occurred. I could notmyself see the bearing of this incident, but I clearly perceived thatHolmes was weaving it into the general scheme which he had formed in hisbrain. Suddenly he sprang from his chair and glanced at his watch. "Twoo'clock, gentlemen, " said he. "We must go up and have it out with ourfriend, the professor. "

The old man had just finished his lunch, and certainly his empty dishbore evidence to the good appetite with which his housekeeper hadcredited him. He was, indeed, a weird figure as he turned his white maneand his glowing eyes towards us. The eternal cigarette smouldered in hismouth. He had been dressed and was seated in an armchair by the fire. 

"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved this mystery yet?" He shoved thelarge tin of cigarettes which stood on a table beside him towards mycompanion. Holmes stretched out his hand at the same moment, and betweenthem they tipped the box over the edge. For a minute or two we were allon our knees retrieving stray cigarettes from impossible places. When werose again, I observed Holmes's eyes were shining and his cheeks tingedwith colour. Only at a crisis have I seen those battle-signals flying. 

"Yes, " said he, "I have solved it. "

Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like a sneerquivered over the gaunt features of the old professor. 

"Indeed! In the garden?"

"No, here. "

"Here! When?"

"This instant. "

"You are surely joking, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You compel me to tell youthat this is too serious a matter to be treated in such a fashion. "

"I have forged and tested every link of my chain, Professor Coram, and Iam sure that it is sound. What your motives are, or what exact partyou play in this strange business, I am not yet able to say. In a fewminutes I shall probably hear it from your own lips. Meanwhile I willreconstruct what is past for your benefit, so that you may know theinformation which I still require. 

"A lady yesterday entered your study. She came with the intention ofpossessing herself of certain documents which were in your bureau. Shehad a key of her own. I have had an opportunity of examining yours, andI do not find that slight discolouration which the scratch made upon thevarnish would have produced. You were not an accessory, therefore, andshe came, so far as I can read the evidence, without your knowledge torob you. "

The professor blew a cloud from his lips. "This is most interesting andinstructive, " said he. "Have you no more to add? Surely, having tracedthis lady so far, you can also say what has become of her. "

"I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she was seized by yoursecretary, and stabbed him in order to escape. This catastrophe I aminclined to regard as an unhappy accident, for I am convinced that thelady had no intention of inflicting so grievous an injury. An assassindoes not come unarmed. Horrified by what she had done, she rushed wildlyaway from the scene of the tragedy. Unfortunately for her, she had losther glasses in the scuffle, and as she was extremely short-sighted shewas really helpless without them. She ran down a corridor, which sheimagined to be that by which she had come--both were lined with cocoanutmatting--and it was only when it was too late that she understood thatshe had taken the wrong passage, and that her retreat was cut off behindher. What was she to do? She could not go back. She could not remainwhere she was. She must go on. She went on. She mounted a stair, pushedopen a door, and found herself in your room. "

The old man sat with his mouth open, staring wildly at Holmes. Amazementand fear were stamped upon his expressive features. Now, with an effort, he shrugged his shoulders and burst into insincere laughter. 

"All very fine, Mr. Holmes, " said he. "But there is one little flawin your splendid theory. I was myself in my room, and I never left itduring the day. "

"I am aware of that, Professor Coram. "

"And you mean to say that I could lie upon that bed and not be awarethat a woman had entered my room?"

"I never said so. You WERE aware of it. You spoke with her. Yourecognized her. You aided her to escape. "

Again the professor burst into high-keyed laughter. He had risen to hisfeet, and his eyes glowed like embers. 

"You are mad!" he cried. "You are talking insanely. I helped her toescape? Where is she now?"

"She is there, " said Holmes, and he pointed to a high bookcase in thecorner of the room. 

I saw the old man throw up his arms, a terrible convulsion passed overhis grim face, and he fell back in his chair. At the same instant thebookcase at which Holmes pointed swung round upon a hinge, and a womanrushed out into the room. "You are right!" she cried, in a strangeforeign voice. "You are right! I am here. "

She was brown with the dust and draped with the cobwebs which had comefrom the walls of her hiding-place. Her face, too, was streaked withgrime, and at the best she could never have been handsome, for she hadthe exact physical characteristics which Holmes had divined, with, inaddition, a long and obstinate chin. What with her natural blindness, and what with the change from dark to light, she stood as one dazed, blinking about her to see where and who we were. And yet, in spite ofall these disadvantages, there was a certain nobility in the woman'sbearing--a gallantry in the defiant chin and in the upraised head, whichcompelled something of respect and admiration. 

Stanley Hopkins had laid his hand upon her arm and claimed her as hisprisoner, but she waved him aside gently, and yet with an over-masteringdignity which compelled obedience. The old man lay back in his chairwith a twitching face, and stared at her with brooding eyes. 

"Yes, sir, I am your prisoner, " she said. "From where I stood I couldhear everything, and I know that you have learned the truth. I confessit all. It was I who killed the young man. But you are right--you whosay it was an accident. I did not even know that it was a knife whichI held in my hand, for in my despair I snatched anything from the tableand struck 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. I fear that youare far from well. "

She had turned a dreadful colour, the more ghastly under the darkdust-streaks upon her face. She seated herself on the side of the bed;then she resumed. 

"I have only a little time here, " she said, "but I would have you toknow the whole truth. I am this man's wife. He is not an Englishman. Heis a Russian. His name I will not tell. "

For the first time the old man stirred. "God bless you, Anna!" he cried. "God bless you!"

She cast a look of the deepest disdain in his direction. "Why should youcling so hard to that wretched life of yours, Sergius?" said she. "Ithas done harm to many and good to none--not even to yourself. However, it is not for me to cause the frail thread to be snapped before God'stime. I have enough already upon my soul since I crossed the thresholdof this cursed house. But I must speak or I shall be too late. 

"I have said, gentlemen, that I am this man's wife. He was fifty and Ia foolish girl of twenty when we married. It was in a city of Russia, auniversity--I will not name the place. "

"God bless you, Anna!" murmured the old man again. 

"We were reformers--revolutionists--Nihilists, you understand. He and Iand many more. Then there came a time of trouble, a police officer waskilled, many were arrested, evidence was wanted, and in order to savehis own life and to earn a great reward, my husband betrayed his ownwife and his companions. Yes, we were all arrested upon his confession. Some of us found our way to the gallows, and some to Siberia. I wasamong these last, but my term was not for life. My husband came toEngland with his ill-gotten gains and has lived in quiet ever since, knowing well that if the Brotherhood knew where he was not a week wouldpass before justice would be done. "

The old man reached out a trembling hand and helped himself to acigarette. "I am in your hands, Anna, " said he. "You were always good tome. "

"I have not yet told you the height of his villainy, " said she. "Amongour 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. He hatedviolence. We were all guilty--if that is guilt--but he was not. He wroteforever dissuading us from such a course. These letters would have savedhim. So would my diary, in which, from day to day, I had entered both myfeelings towards him and the view which each of us had taken. My husbandfound and kept both diary and letters. He hid them, and he tried hard toswear away the young man's life. In this he failed, but Alexis was senta convict to Siberia, where now, at this moment, he works in a saltmine. Think of that, you villain, you villain!--now, now, at this verymoment, Alexis, a man whose name you are not worthy to speak, works andlives like a slave, and yet I have your life in my hands, and I let yougo. "

"You were always a noble woman, Anna, " said the old man, puffing at hiscigarette. 

She had risen, but she fell back again with a little cry of pain. 

"I must finish, " she said. "When my term was over I set myself to getthe diary and letters which, if sent to the Russian government, wouldprocure my friend's release. I knew that my husband had come to England. After months of searching I discovered where he was. I knew that hestill had the diary, for when I was in Siberia I had a letter from himonce, reproaching me and quoting some passages from its pages. Yet I wassure that, with his revengeful nature, he would never give it to me ofhis own free-will. I must get it for myself. With this object I engagedan agent from a private detective firm, who entered my husband's houseas a secretary--it was your second secretary, Sergius, the one who leftyou so hurriedly. He found that papers were kept in the cupboard, and hegot an impression of the key. He would not go farther. He furnished mewith a plan of the house, and he told me that in the forenoon the studywas always empty, as the secretary was employed up here. So at last Itook my courage in both hands, and I came down to get the papers formyself. I succeeded; but at what a cost!

"I had just taken the paper; and was locking the cupboard, when theyoung man seized me. I had seen him already that morning. He had met meon the road, and I had asked him to tell me where Professor Coram lived, not knowing that he was in his employ. "

"Exactly! Exactly!" said Holmes. "The secretary came back, and told hisemployer of the woman he had met. Then, in his last breath, he tried tosend a message that it was she--the she whom he had just discussed withhim. "

"You must let me speak, " said the woman, in an imperative voice, andher face contracted as if in pain. "When he had fallen I rushed from theroom, chose the wrong door, and found myself in my husband's room. Hespoke of giving me up. I showed him that if he did so, his life was inmy hands. If he gave me to the law, I could give him to the Brotherhood. It was not that I wished to live for my own sake, but it was thatI desired to accomplish my purpose. He knew that I would do what Isaid--that his own fate was involved in mine. For that reason, and forno other, he shielded me. He thrust me into that dark hiding-place--arelic of old days, known only to himself. He took his meals in his ownroom, and so was able to give me part of his food. It was agreed thatwhen the police left the house I should slip away by night and come backno more. But in some way you have read our plans. " She tore from thebosom 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 honourand to your love of justice. Take it! You will deliver it at the RussianEmbassy. Now, I have done my duty, and----"

"Stop her!" cried Holmes. He had bounded across the room and hadwrenched a small phial from her hand. 

"Too late!" she said, sinking back on the bed. "Too late! I took thepoison before I left my hiding-place. My head swims! I am going! Icharge you, sir, to remember the packet. "

"A simple case, and yet, in some ways, an instructive one, " Holmesremarked, as we travelled back to town. "It hinged from the outset uponthe pince-nez. But for the fortunate chance of the dying man havingseized these, I am not sure that we could ever have reached oursolution. It was clear to me, from the strength of the glasses, thatthe wearer must have been very blind and helpless when deprived of them. When you asked me to believe that she walked along a narrow strip ofgrass without once making a false step, I remarked, as you may remember, that it was a noteworthy performance. In my mind I set it down as animpossible performance, save in the unlikely case that she had a secondpair of glasses. I was forced, therefore, to consider seriously thehypothesis that she had remained within the house. On perceiving thesimilarity of the two corridors, it became clear that she might veryeasily have made such a mistake, and, in that case, it was evident thatshe must have entered the professor's room. I was keenly on the alert, therefore, for whatever would bear out this supposition, and I examinedthe room narrowly for anything in the shape of a hiding-place. Thecarpet seemed continuous and firmly nailed, so I dismissed the idea ofa trap-door. There might well be a recess behind the books. As you areaware, such devices are common in old libraries. I observed that bookswere piled on the floor at all other points, but that one bookcase wasleft clear. This, then, might be the door. I could see no marks to guideme, but the carpet was of a dun colour, which lends itself very wellto examination. I therefore smoked a great number of those excellentcigarettes, and I dropped the ash all over the space in front of thesuspected bookcase. It was a simple trick, but exceedingly effective. I then went downstairs, and I ascertained, in your presence, Watson, without your perceiving the drift of my remarks, that Professor Coram'sconsumption of food had increased--as one would expect when he issupplying a second person. We then ascended to the room again, when, by upsetting the cigarette-box, I obtained a very excellent view ofthe floor, and was able to see quite clearly, from the traces upon thecigarette ash, that the prisoner had in our absence come out from herretreat. Well, Hopkins, here we are at Charing Cross, and I congratulateyou on having brought your case to a successful conclusion. You aregoing to headquarters, no doubt. I think, Watson, you and I will drivetogether to the Russian Embassy. "

THE ADVENTURE OF THE MISSING THREE-QUARTER

We were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street, but I have a particular recollection of one which reached us on a gloomyFebruary morning, some seven or eight years ago, and gave Mr. SherlockHolmes a puzzled quarter of an hour. It was addressed to him, and ranthus:

Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing three-quarter missing, indispensable to-morrow. OVERTON. 

"Strand postmark, and dispatched ten thirty-six, " said Holmes, readingit over and over. "Mr. Overton was evidently considerably excited whenhe sent it, and somewhat incoherent in consequence. Well, well, he willbe here, I daresay, by the time I have looked through the TIMES, andthen we shall know all about it. Even the most insignificant problemwould be welcome in these stagnant days. "

Things had indeed been very slow with us, and I had learned to dreadsuch periods of inaction, for I knew by experience that my companion'sbrain was so abnormally active that it was dangerous to leave it withoutmaterial upon which to work. For years I had gradually weaned himfrom that drug mania which had threatened once to check his remarkablecareer. Now I knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer cravedfor this artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend wasnot dead but sleeping, and I have known that the sleep was a light oneand the waking near when in periods of idleness I have seen the drawnlook upon Holmes's ascetic face, and the brooding of his deep-set andinscrutable eyes. Therefore I blessed this Mr. Overton whoever he mightbe, since he had come with his enigmatic message to break that dangerouscalm which brought more peril to my friend than all the storms of histempestuous life. 

As we had expected, the telegram was soon followed by its sender, andthe card of Mr. Cyril Overton, Trinity College, Cambridge, announcedthe arrival of an enormous young man, sixteen stone of solid bone andmuscle, who spanned the doorway with his broad shoulders, and lookedfrom one of us to the other with a comely face which was haggard withanxiety. 

"Mr. Sherlock Holmes?"

My companion bowed. 

"I've been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes. I saw Inspector StanleyHopkins. He advised me to come to you. He said the case, so far as hecould see, was more in your line than in that of the regular police. "

"Pray sit down and tell me what is the matter. "

"It's awful, Mr. Holmes--simply awful I wonder my hair isn't gray. Godfrey Staunton--you've heard of him, of course? He's simply the hingethat the whole team turns on. I'd rather spare two from the pack, and have Godfrey for my three-quarter line. Whether it's passing, ortackling, or dribbling, there's no one to touch him, and then, he's gotthe head, and can hold us all together. What am I to do? That's what Iask you, Mr. Holmes. There's Moorhouse, first reserve, but he is trainedas a half, and he always edges right in on to the scrum instead ofkeeping out on the touchline. He's a fine place-kick, it's true, butthen he has no judgment, and he can't sprint for nuts. Why, Morton orJohnson, the Oxford fliers, could romp round him. Stevenson isfast enough, but he couldn't drop from the twenty-five line, and athree-quarter who can't either punt or drop isn't worth a place forpace alone. No, Mr. Holmes, we are done unless you can help me to findGodfrey Staunton. "

My friend had listened with amused surprise to this long speech, whichwas poured forth with extraordinary vigour and earnestness, every pointbeing driven home by the slapping of a brawny hand upon the speaker'sknee. When our visitor was silent Holmes stretched out his hand and tookdown letter "S" of his commonplace book. For once he dug in vain intothat mine of varied information. 

"There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger, " said he, "andthere was Henry Staunton, whom I helped to hang, but Godfrey Staunton isa new name to me. "

It was our visitor's turn to look surprised. 

"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 CyrilOverton either?"

Holmes shook his head good humouredly. 

"Great Scott!" cried the athlete. "Why, I was first reserve for Englandagainst Wales, and I've skippered the 'Varsity all this year. But that'snothing! I didn't think there was a soul in England who didn't knowGodfrey Staunton, the crack three-quarter, Cambridge, Blackheath, andfive Internationals. Good Lord! Mr. Holmes, where HAVE you lived?"

Holmes laughed at the young giant's naive astonishment. 

"You live in a different world to me, Mr. Overton--a sweeter andhealthier one. My ramifications stretch out into many sections ofsociety, but never, I am happy to say, into amateur sport, which is thebest and soundest thing in England. However, your unexpected visit thismorning shows me that even in that world of fresh air and fair play, there may be work for me to do. So now, my good sir, I beg you to sitdown and to tell me, slowly and quietly, exactly what it is that hasoccurred, and how you desire that I should help you. "

Young Overton's face assumed the bothered look of the man who is moreaccustomed to using his muscles than his wits, but by degrees, with manyrepetitions and obscurities which I may omit from his narrative, he laidhis strange story before us. 

"It's this way, Mr. Holmes. As I have said, I am the skipper of theRugger team of Cambridge 'Varsity, and Godfrey Staunton is my best man. To-morrow we play Oxford. Yesterday we all came up, and we settled atBentley's private hotel. At ten o'clock I went round and saw that allthe fellows had gone to roost, for I believe in strict training andplenty of sleep to keep a team fit. I had a word or two with Godfreybefore he turned in. He seemed to me to be pale and bothered. I askedhim what was the matter. He said he was all right--just a touch ofheadache. I bade him good-night and left him. Half an hour later, theporter tells me that a rough-looking man with a beard called with a notefor Godfrey. He had not gone to bed, and the note was taken to his room. Godfrey read it, and fell back in a chair as if he had been pole-axed. The porter was so scared that he was going to fetch me, but Godfreystopped him, had a drink of water, and pulled himself together. Thenhe went downstairs, said a few words to the man who was waiting in thehall, and the two of them went off together. The last that the portersaw of them, they were almost running down the street in the directionof the Strand. This morning Godfrey's room was empty, his bed had neverbeen slept in, and his things were all just as I had seen them the nightbefore. He had gone off at a moment's notice with this stranger, and noword has come from him since. I don't believe he will ever come back. Hewas a sportsman, was Godfrey, down to his marrow, and he wouldn't havestopped his training and let in his skipper if it were not for somecause that was too strong for him. No: I feel as if he were gone forgood, and we should never see him again. "

Sherlock Holmes listened with the deepest attention to this singularnarrative. 

"What did you do?" he asked. 

"I wired to Cambridge to learn if anything had been heard of him there. I have had an answer. No one has seen him. "

"Could he have got back to Cambridge?"

"Yes, there is a late train--quarter-past eleven. "

"But, so far as you can ascertain, he did not take it?"

"No, he has not been seen. "

"What did you do next?"

"I wired to Lord Mount-James. "

"Why to Lord Mount-James?"

"Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord Mount-James is his nearest relative--hisuncle, I believe. "

"Indeed. This throws new light upon the matter. Lord Mount-James is oneof the richest men in England. "

"So I've heard Godfrey say. "

"And your friend was closely related?"

"Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty--cram full ofgout, too. They say he could chalk his billiard-cue with his knuckles. He never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his life, for he is an absolutemiser, but it will all come to him right enough. "

"Have you heard from Lord Mount-James?"

"No. "

"What motive could your friend have in going to Lord Mount-James?"

"Well, something was worrying him the night before, and if it was to dowith money it is possible that he would make for his nearest relative, who had so much of it, though from all I have heard he would not havemuch chance of getting it. Godfrey was not fond of the old man. He wouldnot go if he could help it. "

"Well, we can soon determine that. If your friend was going to hisrelative, Lord Mount-James, you have then to explain the visit of thisrough-looking fellow at so late an hour, and the agitation that wascaused by his coming. "

Cyril Overton pressed his hands to his head. "I can make nothing of it, "said he. 

"Well, well, I have a clear day, and I shall be happy to look into thematter, " said Holmes. "I should strongly recommend you to make yourpreparations for your match without reference to this young gentleman. It must, as you say, have been an overpowering necessity which tore himaway in such a fashion, and the same necessity is likely to hold himaway. Let us step round together to the hotel, and see if the porter canthrow any fresh light upon the matter. "

Sherlock Holmes was a past-master in the art of putting a humblewitness at his ease, and very soon, in the privacy of Godfrey Staunton'sabandoned room, he had extracted all that the porter had to tell. The visitor of the night before was not a gentleman, neither was he aworkingman. He was simply what the porter described as a "medium-lookingchap, " a man of fifty, beard grizzled, pale face, quietly dressed. He seemed himself to be agitated. The porter had observed his handtrembling when he had held out the note. Godfrey Staunton had crammedthe note into his pocket. Staunton had not shaken hands with the man inthe hall. They had exchanged a few sentences, of which the porter hadonly distinguished the one word "time. " Then they had hurried off in themanner described. It was just half-past ten by the hall clock. 

"Let me see, " said Holmes, seating himself on Staunton's bed. "You arethe day porter, are you not?"

"Yes, sir, I go off duty at eleven. "

"The night porter saw nothing, I suppose?"

"No, sir, one theatre party came in late. No one else. "

"Were you on duty all day yesterday?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Did you take any messages to Mr. Staunton?"

"Yes, sir, one telegram. "

"Ah! that's interesting. What o'clock was this?"

"About six. "

"Where was Mr. Staunton when he received it?"

"Here in his room. "

"Were you present when he opened it?"

"Yes, sir, I waited to see if there was an answer. "

"Well, was there?"

"Yes, sir, he wrote an answer. "

"Did you take it?"

"No, he took it himself. "

"But he wrote it in your presence. "

"Yes, sir. I was standing by the door, and he with his back turned atthat table. When he had written it, he said: 'All right, porter, I willtake this myself. '"

"What did he write it with?"

"A pen, sir. "

"Was the telegraphic form one of these on the table?"

"Yes, sir, it was the top one. "

Holmes rose. Taking the forms, he carried them over to the window andcarefully examined that which was uppermost. 

"It is a pity he did not write in pencil, " said he, throwing them downagain with a shrug of disappointment. "As you have no doubt frequentlyobserved, Watson, the impression usually goes through--a fact which hasdissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. Irejoice, however, to perceive that he wrote with a broad-pointed quillpen, and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon thisblotting-pad. Ah, yes, surely this is the very thing!"

He tore off a strip of the blotting-paper and turned towards us thefollowing hieroglyphic:

GRAPHIC

Cyril Overton was much excited. "Hold it to the glass!" he cried. 

"That is unnecessary, " said Holmes. "The paper is thin, and the reversewill give the message. Here it is. " He turned it over, and we read:

GRAPHIC [Stand by us for Gods sake]

"So that is the tail end of the telegram which Godfrey Stauntondispatched within a few hours of his disappearance. There are at leastsix words of the message which have escaped us; but what remains--'Standby us for God's sake!'--proves that this young man saw a formidabledanger which approached him, and from which someone else could protecthim. 'US, ' mark you! Another person was involved. Who should it be butthe pale-faced, bearded man, who seemed himself in so nervous a state?What, then, is the connection between Godfrey Staunton and the beardedman? And what is the third source from which each of them sought forhelp against pressing danger? Our inquiry has already narrowed down tothat. "

"We have only to find to whom that telegram is addressed, " I suggested. 

"Exactly, my dear Watson. Your reflection, though profound, had alreadycrossed my mind. But I daresay it may have come to your notice that, counterfoil of another man's message, there may be some disinclinationon the part of the officials to oblige you. There is so much red tape inthese matters. However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacyand finesse the end may be attained. Meanwhile, I should like in yourpresence, Mr. Overton, to go through these papers which have been leftupon the table. "

There were a number of letters, bills, and notebooks, which Holmesturned over and examined with quick, nervous fingers and darting, penetrating eyes. "Nothing here, " he said, at last. "By the way, Isuppose your friend was a healthy young fellow--nothing amiss with him?"

"Sound as a bell. "

"Have you ever known him ill?"

"Not a day. He has been laid up with a hack, and once he slipped hisknee-cap, but that was nothing. "

"Perhaps he was not so strong as you suppose. I should think he mayhave had some secret trouble. With your assent, I will put one or twoof these papers in my pocket, in case they should bear upon our futureinquiry. "

"One moment--one moment!" cried a querulous voice, and we looked up tofind a queer little old man, jerking and twitching in the doorway. Hewas dressed in rusty black, with a very broad-brimmed top-hat and aloose white necktie--the whole effect being that of a very rustic parsonor of an undertaker's mute. Yet, in spite of his shabby and even absurdappearance, his voice had a sharp crackle, and his manner a quickintensity which commanded attention. 

"Who are you, sir, and by what right do you touch this gentleman'spapers?" he asked. 

"I am a private detective, and I am endeavouring to explain hisdisappearance. "

"Oh, you are, are you? And who instructed you, eh?"

"This gentleman, Mr. Staunton's friend, was referred to me by ScotlandYard. "

"Who are you, sir?"

"I am Cyril Overton. "

"Then it is you who sent me a telegram. My name is Lord Mount-James. Icame round as quickly as the Bayswater bus would bring me. So you haveinstructed a detective?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And are you prepared to meet the cost?"

"I have no doubt, sir, that my friend Godfrey, when we find him, will beprepared to do that. "

"But if he is never found, eh? Answer me that!"

"In that case, no doubt his family----"

"Nothing of the sort, sir!" screamed the little man. "Don't look to mefor a penny--not a penny! You understand that, Mr. Detective! I am allthe family that this young man has got, and I tell you that I am notresponsible. If he has any expectations it is due to the fact that Ihave never wasted money, and I do not propose to begin to do so now. Asto those papers with which you are making so free, I may tell you thatin case there should be anything of any value among them, you will beheld strictly to account for what you do with them. "

"Very good, sir, " said Sherlock Holmes. "May I ask, in the meanwhile, whether you have yourself any theory to account for this young man'sdisappearance?"

"No, sir, I have not. He is big enough and old enough to look afterhimself, and if he is so foolish as to lose himself, I entirely refuseto accept the responsibility of hunting for him. "

"I quite understand your position, " said Holmes, with a mischievoustwinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps you don't quite understand mine. GodfreyStaunton appears to have been a poor man. If he has been kidnapped, itcould not have been for anything which he himself possesses. The fameof your wealth has gone abroad, Lord Mount-James, and it is entirelypossible that a gang of thieves have secured your nephew in order togain from him some information as to your house, your habits, and yourtreasure. "

The face of our unpleasant little visitor turned as white as hisneckcloth. 

"Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of such villainy! Whatinhuman rogues there are in the world! But Godfrey is a fine lad--astaunch lad. Nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away. I'llhave the plate moved over to the bank this evening. In the meantimespare no pains, Mr. Detective! I beg you to leave no stone unturned tobring him safely back. As to money, well, so far as a fiver or even atenner goes you can always look to me. "

Even in his chastened frame of mind, the noble miser could give us noinformation which could help us, for he knew little of the private lifeof his nephew. Our only clue lay in the truncated telegram, and with acopy of this in his hand Holmes set forth to find a second link forhis chain. We had shaken off Lord Mount-James, and Overton had gone toconsult with the other members of his team over the misfortune which hadbefallen them. 

There was a telegraph-office at a short distance from the hotel. Wehalted outside it. 

"It's worth trying, Watson, " said Holmes. "Of course, with a warrant wecould demand to see the counterfoils, but we have not reached that stageyet. I don't suppose they remember faces in so busy a place. Let usventure it. "

"I am sorry to trouble you, " said he, in his blandest manner, to theyoung woman behind the grating; "there is some small mistake about atelegram I sent yesterday. I have had no answer, and I very much fearthat I must have omitted to put my name at the end. Could you tell me ifthis was so?"

The young woman turned over a sheaf of counterfoils. 

"What o'clock was it?" she asked. 

"A little after six. "

"Whom was it to?"

Holmes put his finger to his lips and glanced at me. "The last wordsin it were 'For God's sake, '" he whispered, confidentially; "I am veryanxious at getting no answer. "

The young woman separated one of the forms. 

"This is it. There is no name, " said she, smoothing it out upon thecounter. 

"Then that, of course, accounts for my getting no answer, " said Holmes. "Dear me, how very stupid of me, to be sure! Good-morning, miss, andmany thanks for having relieved my mind. " He chuckled and rubbed hishands when we found ourselves in the street once more. 

"Well?" I asked. 

"We progress, my dear Watson, we progress. I had seven different schemesfor getting a glimpse of that telegram, but I could hardly hope tosucceed the very first time. "

"And what have you gained?"

"A starting-point for our investigation. " He hailed a cab. "King's CrossStation, " said he. 

"We have a journey, then?"

"Yes, I think we must run down to Cambridge together. All theindications seem to me to point in that direction. "

"Tell me, " I asked, as we rattled up Gray's Inn Road, "have you anysuspicion yet as to the cause of the disappearance? I don't think thatamong all our cases I have known one where the motives are more obscure. Surely you don't really imagine that he may be kidnapped in order togive information against his wealthy uncle?"

"I confess, my dear Watson, that that does not appeal to me as a veryprobable explanation. It struck me, however, as being the one which wasmost likely to interest that exceedingly unpleasant old person. "

"It certainly did that; but what are your alternatives?"

"I could mention several. You must admit that it is curious andsuggestive that this incident should occur on the eve of this importantmatch, and should involve the only man whose presence seems essential tothe success of the side. It may, of course, be a coincidence, but itis interesting. Amateur sport is free from betting, but a good deal ofoutside betting goes on among the public, and it is possible that itmight be worth someone's while to get at a player as the ruffians ofthe turf get at a race-horse. There is one explanation. A secondvery obvious one is that this young man really is the heir of a greatproperty, however modest his means may at present be, and it is notimpossible that a plot to hold him for ransom might be concocted. "

"These theories take no account of the telegram. "

"Quite true, Watson. The telegram still remains the only solid thingwith which we have to deal, and we must not permit our attention towander away from it. It is to gain light upon the purpose of thistelegram that we are now upon our way to Cambridge. The path of ourinvestigation is at present obscure, but I shall be very much surprisedif before evening we have not cleared it up, or made a considerableadvance along it. "

It was already dark when we reached the old university city. Holmes tooka cab at the station and ordered the man to drive to the house of Dr. Leslie Armstrong. A few minutes later, we had stopped at a large mansionin the busiest thoroughfare. We were shown in, and after a long waitwere at last admitted into the consulting-room, where we found thedoctor seated behind his table. 

It argues the degree in which I had lost touch with my profession thatthe name of Leslie Armstrong was unknown to me. Now I am aware that heis not only one of the heads of the medical school of the university, but a thinker of European reputation in more than one branch of science. Yet even without knowing his brilliant record one could not fail to beimpressed by a mere glance at the man, the square, massive face, thebrooding eyes under the thatched brows, and the granite moulding of theinflexible jaw. A man of deep character, a man with an alert mind, grim, ascetic, self-contained, formidable--so I read Dr. Leslie Armstrong. Heheld my friend's card in his hand, and he looked up with no very pleasedexpression upon his dour features. 

"I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I am aware of yourprofession--one of which I by no means approve. "

"In that, Doctor, you will find yourself in agreement with everycriminal in the country, " said my friend, quietly. 

"So far as your efforts are directed towards the suppression of crime, sir, they must have the support of every reasonable member of thecommunity, though I cannot doubt that the official machinery is amplysufficient for the purpose. Where your calling is more open to criticismis when you pry into the secrets of private individuals, when you rakeup family matters which are better hidden, and when you incidentallywaste the time of men who are more busy than yourself. At the presentmoment, for example, I should be writing a treatise instead ofconversing with you. "

"No doubt, Doctor; and yet the conversation may prove more importantthan the treatise. Incidentally, I may tell you that we are doing thereverse of what you very justly blame, and that we are endeavouringto prevent anything like public exposure of private matters which mustnecessarily follow when once the case is fairly in the hands of theofficial police. You may look upon me simply as an irregular pioneer, who goes in front of the regular forces of the country. I have come toask you about Mr. Godfrey Staunton. "

"What about him?"

"You know him, do you not?"

"He is an intimate friend of mine. "

"You are aware that he has disappeared?"

"Ah, indeed!" There was no change of expression in the rugged featuresof the doctor. 

"He left his hotel last night--he has not been heard of. "

"No doubt he will return. "

"To-morrow is the 'Varsity football match. "

"I have no sympathy with these childish games. The young man's fateinterests me deeply, since I know him and like him. The football matchdoes not come within my horizon at all. "

"I claim your sympathy, then, in my investigation of Mr. Staunton'sfate. Do you know where he is?"

"Certainly not. "

"You have not seen him since yesterday?"

"No, I have not. "

"Was Mr. Staunton a healthy man?"

"Absolutely. "

"Did you ever know him ill?"

"Never. "

Holmes popped a sheet of paper before the doctor's eyes. "Then perhapsyou will explain this receipted bill for thirteen guineas, paid by Mr. Godfrey Staunton last month to Dr. Leslie Armstrong, of Cambridge. Ipicked it out from among the papers upon his desk. "

The doctor flushed with anger. 

"I do not feel that there is any reason why I should render anexplanation to you, Mr. Holmes. "

Holmes replaced the bill in his notebook. "If you prefer a publicexplanation, it must come sooner or later, " said he. "I have alreadytold you that I can hush up that which others will be bound to publish, and you would really be wiser to take me into your complete confidence. "

"I know nothing about it. "

"Did you hear from Mr. Staunton in London?"

"Certainly not. "

"Dear me, dear me--the postoffice again!" Holmes sighed, wearily. "A most urgent telegram was dispatched to you from London by GodfreyStaunton at six-fifteen yesterday evening--a telegram which isundoubtedly associated with his disappearance--and yet you have not hadit. It is most culpable. I shall certainly go down to the office hereand register a complaint. "

Dr. Leslie Armstrong sprang up from behind his desk, and his dark facewas crimson with fury. 

"I'll trouble you to walk out of my house, sir, " said he. "You can tellyour employer, Lord Mount-James, that I do not wish to have anything todo either with him or with his agents. No, sir--not another word!" Herang the bell furiously. "John, show these gentlemen out!" A pompousbutler ushered us severely to the door, and we found ourselves in thestreet. Holmes burst out laughing. 

"Dr. Leslie Armstrong is certainly a man of energy and character, " saidhe. "I have not seen a man who, if he turns his talents that way, wasmore calculated to fill the gap left by the illustrious Moriarty. And now, my poor Watson, here we are, stranded and friendless in thisinhospitable town, which we cannot leave without abandoning our case. This little inn just opposite Armstrong's house is singularly adapted toour needs. If you would engage a front room and purchase the necessariesfor the night, I may have time to make a few inquiries. "

These few inquiries proved, however, to be a more lengthy proceedingthan Holmes had imagined, for he did not return to the inn until nearlynine o'clock. He was pale and dejected, stained with dust, and exhaustedwith hunger and fatigue. A cold supper was ready upon the table, andwhen his needs were satisfied and his pipe alight he was ready to takethat half comic and wholly philosophic view which was natural to himwhen his affairs were going awry. The sound of carriage wheels causedhim to rise and glance out of the window. A brougham and pair of grays, under the glare of a gas-lamp, stood before the doctor's door. 

"It's been out three hours, " said Holmes; "started at half-past six, andhere it is back again. That gives a radius of ten or twelve miles, andhe does it once, or sometimes twice, a day. "

"No unusual thing for a doctor in practice. "

"But Armstrong is not really a doctor in practice. He is a lecturer anda consultant, but he does not care for general practice, which distractshim from his literary work. Why, then, does he make these long journeys, which must be exceedingly irksome to him, and who is it that he visits?"

"His coachman----"

"My dear Watson, can you doubt that it was to him that I first applied?I do not know whether it came from his own innate depravity or from thepromptings of his master, but he was rude enough to set a dog at me. Neither dog nor man liked the look of my stick, however, and the matterfell through. Relations were strained after that, and further inquiriesout of the question. All that I have learned I got from a friendlynative in the yard of our own inn. It was he who told me of the doctor'shabits and of his daily journey. At that instant, to give point to hiswords, the carriage came round to the door. "

"Could you not follow it?"

"Excellent, Watson! You are scintillating this evening. The idea didcross my mind. There is, as you may have observed, a bicycle shop nextto our inn. Into this I rushed, engaged a bicycle, and was able to getstarted before the carriage was quite out of sight. I rapidly overtookit, and then, keeping at a discreet distance of a hundred yards or so, Ifollowed its lights until we were clear of the town. We had got well outon the country road, when a somewhat mortifying incident occurred. Thecarriage stopped, the doctor alighted, walked swiftly back to where Ihad also halted, and told me in an excellent sardonic fashion thathe feared the road was narrow, and that he hoped his carriage did notimpede the passage of my bicycle. Nothing could have been more admirablethan his way of putting it. I at once rode past the carriage, and, keeping to the main road, I went on for a few miles, and then halted ina convenient place to see if the carriage passed. There was no sign ofit, however, and so it became evident that it had turned down one ofseveral side roads which I had observed. I rode back, but again sawnothing of the carriage, and now, as you perceive, it has returned afterme. Of course, I had at the outset no particular reason to connectthese journeys with the disappearance of Godfrey Staunton, and was onlyinclined to investigate them on the general grounds that everythingwhich concerns Dr. Armstrong is at present of interest to us, but, nowthat I find he keeps so keen a look-out upon anyone who may follow himon these excursions, the affair appears more important, and I shall notbe satisfied until I have made the matter clear. "

"We can follow him to-morrow. "

"Can we? It is not so easy as you seem to think. You are not familiarwith Cambridgeshire scenery, are you? It does not lend itself toconcealment. All this country that I passed over to-night is as flat andclean as the palm of your hand, and the man we are following is no fool, as he very clearly showed to-night. I have wired to Overton to let usknow any fresh London developments at this address, and in the meantimewe can only concentrate our attention upon Dr. Armstrong, whose namethe obliging young lady at the office allowed me to read upon thecounterfoil of Staunton's urgent message. He knows where the young manis--to that I'll swear, and if he knows, then it must be our own faultif we cannot manage to know also. At present it must be admitted thatthe odd trick is in his possession, and, as you are aware, Watson, it isnot my habit to leave the game in that condition. "

And yet the next day brought us no nearer to the solution of themystery. A note was handed in after breakfast, which Holmes passedacross to me with a smile. 

SIR [it ran]:

I can assure you that you are wasting your time in dogging my movements. I have, as you discovered last night, a window at the back of mybrougham, and if you desire a twenty-mile ride which will lead you tothe spot from which you started, you have only to follow me. Meanwhile, I can inform you that no spying upon me can in any way help Mr. GodfreyStaunton, and I am convinced that the best service you can do to thatgentleman is to return at once to London and to report to your employerthat you are unable to trace him. Your time in Cambridge will certainlybe wasted. Yours faithfully, LESLIE ARMSTRONG. 

"An outspoken, honest antagonist is the doctor, " said Holmes. "Well, well, he excites my curiosity, and I must really know before I leavehim. "

"His carriage is at his door now, " said I. "There he is stepping intoit. I saw him glance up at our window as he did so. Suppose I try myluck upon the bicycle?"

"No, no, my dear Watson! With all respect for your natural acumen, I donot think that you are quite a match for the worthy doctor. I think thatpossibly I can attain our end by some independent explorations of myown. I am afraid that I must leave you to your own devices, as theappearance of TWO inquiring strangers upon a sleepy countryside mightexcite more gossip than I care for. No doubt you will find some sightsto amuse you in this venerable city, and I hope to bring back a morefavourable report to you before evening. "

Once more, however, my friend was destined to be disappointed. He cameback at night weary and unsuccessful. 

"I have had a blank day, Watson. Having got the doctor's generaldirection, I spent the day in visiting all the villages upon that sideof Cambridge, and comparing notes with publicans and other local newsagencies. I have covered some ground. Chesterton, Histon, Waterbeach, and Oakington have each been explored, and have each proveddisappointing. The daily appearance of a brougham and pair could hardlyhave been overlooked in such Sleepy Hollows. The doctor has scored oncemore. Is there a telegram for me?"

"Yes, I opened it. Here it is:

"Ask for Pompey from Jeremy Dixon, Trinity College. "

"I don't understand it. "

"Oh, it is clear enough. It is from our friend Overton, and is in answerto a question from me. I'll just send round a note to Mr. Jeremy Dixon, and then I have no doubt that our luck will turn. By the way, is thereany news of the match?"

"Yes, the local evening paper has an excellent account in its lastedition. Oxford won by a goal and two tries. The last sentences of thedescription say:

"'The defeat of the Light Blues may be entirely attributed to theunfortunate absence of the crack International, Godfrey Staunton, whosewant was felt at every instant of the game. The lack of combination inthe three-quarter line and their weakness both in attack and defencemore than neutralized the efforts of a heavy and hard-working pack. '"

"Then our friend Overton's forebodings have been justified, " saidHolmes. "Personally I am in agreement with Dr. Armstrong, and footballdoes not come within my horizon. Early to bed to-night, Watson, for Iforesee that to-morrow may be an eventful day. "

I was horrified by my first glimpse of Holmes next morning, for hesat by the fire holding his tiny hypodermic syringe. I associated thatinstrument with the single weakness of his nature, and I feared theworst when I saw it glittering in his hand. He laughed at my expressionof dismay and laid it upon the table. 

"No, no, my dear fellow, there is no cause for alarm. It is not uponthis occasion the instrument of evil, but it will rather prove to be thekey which will unlock our mystery. On this syringe I base all my hopes. I have just returned from a small scouting expedition, and everything isfavourable. Eat a good breakfast, Watson, for I propose to get upon Dr. Armstrong's trail to-day, and once on it I will not stop for rest orfood until I run him to his burrow. "

"In that case, " said I, "we had best carry our breakfast with us, for heis making an early start. His carriage is at the door. "

"Never mind. Let him go. He will be clever if he can drive where Icannot follow him. When you have finished, come downstairs with me, andI will introduce you to a detective who is a very eminent specialist inthe work that lies before us. "

When we descended I followed Holmes into the stable yard, wherehe opened the door of a loose-box and led out a squat, lop-eared, white-and-tan dog, something between a beagle and a foxhound. 

"Let me introduce you to Pompey, " said he. "Pompey is the pride of thelocal draghounds--no very great flier, as his build will show, buta staunch hound on a scent. Well, Pompey, you may not be fast, butI expect you will be too fast for a couple of middle-aged Londongentlemen, so I will take the liberty of fastening this leather leash toyour collar. Now, boy, come along, and show what you can do. " He led himacross to the doctor's door. The dog sniffed round for an instant, andthen with a shrill whine of excitement started off down the street, tugging at his leash in his efforts to go faster. In half an hour, wewere clear of the town and hastening down a country road. 

"What have you done, Holmes?" I asked. 

"A threadbare and venerable device, but useful upon occasion. I walkedinto the doctor's yard this morning, and shot my syringe full of aniseedover the hind wheel. A draghound will follow aniseed from here to Johno'Groat's, and our friend, Armstrong, would have to drive through theCam before he would shake Pompey off his trail. Oh, the cunning 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-grownlane. Half a mile farther this opened into another broad road, and thetrail turned hard to the right in the direction of the town, which wehad just quitted. The road took a sweep to the south of the town, andcontinued in the opposite direction to that in which we started. 

"This DETOUR has been entirely for our benefit, then?" said Holmes. "No wonder that my inquiries among those villagers led to nothing. Thedoctor has certainly played the game for all it is worth, and one wouldlike to know the reason for such elaborate deception. This should bethe village of Trumpington to the right of us. And, by Jove! here is thebrougham coming round the corner. Quick, Watson--quick, or we are done!"

He sprang through a gate into a field, dragging the reluctant Pompeyafter him. We had hardly got under the shelter of the hedge when thecarriage rattled past. I caught a glimpse of Dr. Armstrong within, hisshoulders bowed, his head sunk on his hands, the very image of distress. I could tell by my companion's graver face that he also had seen. 

"I fear there is some dark ending to our quest, " said he. "It cannotbe long before we know it. Come, Pompey! Ah, it is the cottage in thefield!"

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 marksof the brougham's wheels were still to be seen. A footpath led acrossto the lonely cottage. Holmes tied the dog to the hedge, and we hastenedonward. My friend knocked at the little rustic door, and knocked againwithout response. And yet the cottage was not deserted, for a lowsound came to our ears--a kind of drone of misery and despair which wasindescribably melancholy. Holmes paused irresolute, and then he glancedback at the road which he had just traversed. A brougham was coming downit, and there could be no mistaking those gray horses. 

"By Jove, the doctor is coming back!" cried Holmes. "That settles it. Weare bound to see what it means before he comes. "

He opened the door, and we stepped into the hall. The droning soundswelled louder upon our ears until it became one long, deep wail ofdistress. It came from upstairs. Holmes darted up, and I followed him. He pushed open a half-closed door, and we both stood appalled at thesight before us. 

A woman, young and beautiful, was lying dead upon the bed. Her calm paleface, with dim, wide-opened blue eyes, looked upward from amid a greattangle of golden hair. At the foot of the bed, half sitting, halfkneeling, his face buried in the clothes, was a young man, whose framewas racked by his sobs. So absorbed was he by his bitter grief, that henever looked up until Holmes's hand was on his shoulder. 

"Are you Mr. Godfrey Staunton?"

"Yes, yes, I am--but you are too late. She is dead. "

The man was so dazed that he could not be made to understand that wewere anything but doctors who had been sent to his assistance. Holmeswas endeavouring to utter a few words of consolation and to explain thealarm which had been caused to his friends by his sudden disappearancewhen there was a step upon the stairs, and there was the heavy, stern, questioning face of Dr. Armstrong at the door. 

"So, gentlemen, " said he, "you have attained your end and have certainlychosen a particularly delicate moment for your intrusion. I would notbrawl in the presence of death, but I can assure you that if I were ayounger man your monstrous conduct would not pass with impunity. "

"Excuse me, Dr. Armstrong, I think we are a little at cross-purposes, "said my friend, with dignity. "If you could step downstairs with us, we may each be able to give some light to the other upon this miserableaffair. "

A minute later, the grim doctor and ourselves were in the sitting-roombelow. 

"Well, sir?" said he. 

"I wish you to understand, in the first place, that I am not employedby Lord Mount-James, and that my sympathies in this matter are entirelyagainst that nobleman. When a man is lost it is my duty to ascertain hisfate, but having done so the matter ends so far as I am concerned, andso long as there is nothing criminal I am much more anxious to hush upprivate scandals than to give them publicity. If, as I imagine, there isno breach of the law in this matter, you can absolutely depend upon mydiscretion and my cooperation in keeping the facts out of the papers. "

Dr. Armstrong took a quick step forward and wrung Holmes by the hand. 

"You are a good fellow, " said he. "I had misjudged you. I thank heaventhat my compunction at leaving poor Staunton all alone in this plightcaused me to turn my carriage back and so to make your acquaintance. Knowing as much as you do, the situation is very easily explained. A year ago Godfrey Staunton lodged in London for a time and becamepassionately attached to his landlady's daughter, whom he married. Shewas as good as she was beautiful and as intelligent as she was good. No man need be ashamed of such a wife. But Godfrey was the heir to thiscrabbed old nobleman, and it was quite certain that the news of hismarriage would have been the end of his inheritance. I knew the ladwell, and I loved him for his many excellent qualities. I did all Icould to help him to keep things straight. We did our very best to keepthe thing from everyone, for, when once such a whisper gets about, it isnot long before everyone has heard it. Thanks to this lonely cottage andhis own discretion, Godfrey has up to now succeeded. Their secret wasknown to no one save to me and to one excellent servant, who has atpresent gone for assistance to Trumpington. But at last there came aterrible blow in the shape of dangerous illness to his wife. It wasconsumption of the most virulent kind. The poor boy was half crazed withgrief, and yet he had to go to London to play this match, for he couldnot get out of it without explanations which would expose his secret. Itried to cheer him up by wire, and he sent me one in reply, imploringme to do all I could. This was the telegram which you appear in someinexplicable way to have seen. I did not tell him how urgent the dangerwas, for I knew that he could do no good here, but I sent the truth tothe girl's father, and he very injudiciously communicated it to Godfrey. The result was that he came straight away in a state bordering onfrenzy, and has remained in the same state, kneeling at the end of herbed, until this morning death put an end to her sufferings. That is all, Mr. Holmes, and I am sure that I can rely upon your discretion and thatof your friend. "

Holmes grasped the doctor's hand. 

"Come, Watson, " said he, and we passed from that house of grief into thepale sunlight of the winter day. 

THE ADVENTURE OF THE ABBEY GRANGE

It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning, towards the end of thewinter of '97, that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It wasHolmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face, andtold me at a glance that something was amiss. 

"Come, Watson, come!" he cried. "The game is afoot. Not a word! Intoyour clothes and come!"

Ten minutes later we were both in a cab, and rattling through the silentstreets on our way to Charing Cross Station. The first faint winter'sdawn was beginning to appear, and we could dimly see the occasionalfigure of an early workman as he passed us, blurred and indistinct inthe opalescent London reek. Holmes nestled in silence into his heavycoat, and I was glad to do the same, for the air was most bitter, andneither of us had broken our fast. 

It was not until we had consumed some hot tea at the station and takenour places in the Kentish train that we were sufficiently thawed, heto speak and I to listen. Holmes drew a note from his pocket, and readaloud:

Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent, 3:30 A. M. MY DEAR MR. HOLMES:

I should be very glad of your immediate assistance in what promises tobe a most remarkable case. It is something quite in your line. Exceptfor releasing the lady I will see that everything is kept exactly as Ihave found it, but I beg you not to lose an instant, as it is difficultto leave Sir Eustace there. Yours faithfully, STANLEY HOPKINS. 

"Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion his summonshas been entirely justified, " said Holmes. "I fancy that every one ofhis cases has found its way into your collection, and I must admit, Watson, that you have some power of selection, which atones for muchwhich I deplore in your narratives. Your fatal habit of looking ateverything from the point of view of a story instead of as a scientificexercise has ruined what might have been an instructive and evenclassical series of demonstrations. You slur over work of the utmostfinesse and delicacy, in order to dwell upon sensational details whichmay excite, but cannot possibly instruct, the reader. "

"Why do you not write them yourself?" I said, with some bitterness. 

"I will, my dear Watson, I will. At present I am, as you know, fairlybusy, but I propose to devote my declining years to the composition of atextbook, which shall focus the whole art of detection into one volume. Our present research appears to be a case of murder. "

"You think this Sir Eustace is dead, then?"

"I should say so. Hopkins's writing shows considerable agitation, and heis not an emotional man. Yes, I gather there has been violence, andthat the body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would nothave caused him to send for me. As to the release of the lady, it wouldappear that she has been locked in her room during the tragedy. Weare moving in high life, Watson, crackling paper, 'E. B. ' monogram, coat-of-arms, picturesque address. I think that friend Hopkins will liveup to his reputation, and that we shall have an interesting morning. Thecrime was committed before twelve last night. "

"How can you possibly tell?"

"By an inspection of the trains, and by reckoning the time. The localpolice had to be called in, they had to communicate with Scotland Yard, Hopkins had to go out, and he in turn had to send for me. All that makesa fair night's work. Well, here we are at Chiselhurst Station, and weshall soon set our doubts at rest. "

A drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes brought usto a park gate, which was opened for us by an old lodge-keeper, whosehaggard face bore the reflection of some great disaster. The avenue ranthrough a noble park, between lines of ancient elms, and ended in a low, widespread house, pillared in front after the fashion of Palladio. Thecentral part was evidently of a great age and shrouded in ivy, but thelarge windows showed that modern changes had been carried out, and onewing of the house appeared to be entirely new. The youthful figure andalert, eager face of Inspector Stanley Hopkins confronted us in the opendoorway. 

"I'm very glad you have come, Mr. Holmes. And you, too, Dr. Watson. But, indeed, if I had my time over again, I should not have troubled you, forsince the lady has come to herself, she has given so clear an account ofthe affair that there is not much left for us to do. You remember thatLewisham gang of burglars?"

"What, the three Randalls?"

"Exactly; the father and two sons. It's their work. I have not a doubtof it. They did a job at Sydenham a fortnight ago and were seen anddescribed. Rather cool to do another so soon and so near, but it isthey, beyond all doubt. It's a hanging matter this time. "

"Sir Eustace is dead, then?"

"Yes, his head was knocked in with his own poker. "

"Sir Eustace Brackenstall, the driver tells me. "

"Exactly--one of the richest men in Kent--Lady Brackenstall is in themorning-room. Poor lady, she has had a most dreadful experience. Sheseemed half dead when I saw her first. I think you had best see herand hear her account of the facts. Then we will examine the dining-roomtogether. "

Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person. Seldom have I seen so gracefula figure, so womanly a presence, and so beautiful a face. She wasa blonde, golden-haired, blue-eyed, and would no doubt have had theperfect complexion which goes with such colouring, had not her recentexperience left her drawn and haggard. Her sufferings were physical aswell as mental, for over one eye rose a hideous, plum-coloured swelling, which her maid, a tall, austere woman, was bathing assiduously withvinegar and water. The lady lay back exhausted upon a couch, but herquick, observant gaze, as we entered the room, and the alert expressionof her beautiful features, showed that neither her wits nor her couragehad been shaken by her terrible experience. She was enveloped in aloose dressing-gown of blue and silver, but a black sequin-covereddinner-dress lay upon the couch beside her. 

"I have told you all that happened, Mr. Hopkins, " she said, wearily. "Could you not repeat it for me? Well, if you think it necessary, I willtell these gentlemen what occurred. Have they been in the dining-roomyet?"

"I thought they had better hear your ladyship's story first. "

"I shall be glad when you can arrange matters. It is horrible to me tothink of him still lying there. " She shuddered and buried her face inher hands. As she did so, the loose gown fell back from her forearms. Holmes uttered an exclamation. 

"You have other injuries, madam! What is this?" Two vivid red spotsstood out on one of the white, round limbs. She hastily covered it. 

"It is nothing. It has no connection with this hideous businessto-night. If you and your friend will sit down, I will tell you all Ican. 

"I am the wife of Sir Eustace Brackenstall. I have been married abouta year. I suppose that it is no use my attempting to conceal that ourmarriage has not been a happy one. I fear that all our neighbours wouldtell you that, even if I were to attempt to deny it. Perhaps the faultmay be partly mine. I was brought up in the freer, less conventionalatmosphere of South Australia, and this English life, with itsproprieties and its primness, is not congenial to me. But the mainreason lies in the one fact, which is notorious to everyone, and that isthat Sir Eustace was a confirmed drunkard. To be with such a man for anhour is unpleasant. Can you imagine what it means for a sensitiveand high-spirited woman to be tied to him for day and night? It is asacrilege, a crime, a villainy to hold that such a marriage is binding. I say that these monstrous laws of yours will bring a curse upon theland--God will not let such wickedness endure. " For an instant she satup, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes blazing from under the terriblemark upon her brow. Then the strong, soothing hand of the austere maiddrew her head down on to the cushion, and the wild anger died away intopassionate sobbing. At last she continued:

"I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in thishouse all the servants sleep in the modern wing. This central block ismade up of the dwelling-rooms, with the kitchen behind and our bedroomabove. My maid, Theresa, sleeps above my room. There is no one else, andno sound could alarm those who are in the farther wing. This must havebeen well known to the robbers, or they would not have acted as theydid. 

"Sir Eustace retired about half-past ten. The servants had already goneto their quarters. Only my maid was up, and she had remained in her roomat the top of the house until I needed her services. I sat until aftereleven in this room, absorbed in a book. Then I walked round to seethat all was right before I went upstairs. It was my custom to do thismyself, for, as I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to betrusted. I went into the kitchen, the butler's pantry, the gun-room, the billiard-room, the drawing-room, and finally the dining-room. As Iapproached the window, which is covered with thick curtains, I suddenlyfelt the wind blow upon my face and realized that it was open. I flungthe curtain aside and found myself face to face with a broad-shoulderedelderly man, who had just stepped into the room. The window is a longFrench one, which really forms a door leading to the lawn. I held mybedroom candle lit in my hand, and, by its light, behind the first man Isaw two others, who were in the act of entering. I stepped back, but thefellow was on me in an instant. He caught me first by the wrist and thenby the throat. I opened my mouth to scream, but he struck me a savageblow with his fist over the eye, and felled me to the ground. I musthave been unconscious for a few minutes, for when I came to myself, Ifound that they had torn down the bell-rope, and had secured me tightlyto the oaken chair which stands at the head of the dining-table. I wasso firmly bound that I could not move, and a handkerchief round mymouth prevented me from uttering a sound. It was at this instant thatmy unfortunate husband entered the room. He had evidently heard somesuspicious sounds, and he came prepared for such a scene as he found. He was dressed in nightshirt and trousers, with his favourite blackthorncudgel in his hand. He rushed at the burglars, but another--it was anelderly man--stooped, picked the poker out of the grate and struck him ahorrible blow as he passed. He fell with a groan and never moved again. I fainted once more, but again it could only have been for a very fewminutes during which I was insensible. When I opened my eyes I foundthat they had collected the silver from the sideboard, and they haddrawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of them had a glass inhis hand. I have already told you, have I not, that one was elderly, with a beard, and the others young, hairless lads. They might have beena father with his two sons. They talked together in whispers. Thenthey came over and made sure that I was securely bound. Finally theywithdrew, closing the window after them. It was quite a quarter of anhour before I got my mouth free. When I did so, my screams brought themaid to my assistance. The other servants were soon alarmed, and we sentfor the local police, who instantly communicated with London. That isreally all that I can tell you, gentlemen, and I trust that it will notbe necessary for me to go over so painful a story again. "

"Any questions, Mr. Holmes?" asked Hopkins. 

"I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall's patience andtime, " said Holmes. "Before I go into the dining-room, I should like tohear your experience. " He looked at the maid. 

"I saw the men before ever they came into the house, " said she. "As Isat by my bedroom window I saw three men in the moonlight down by thelodge gate yonder, but I thought nothing of it at the time. It was morethan an hour after that I heard my mistress scream, and down I ran, tofind her, poor lamb, just as she says, and him on the floor, with hisblood and brains over the room. It was enough to drive a woman out ofher wits, tied there, and her very dress spotted with him, but she neverwanted courage, did Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide and Lady Brackenstallof Abbey Grange hasn't learned new ways. You've questioned her longenough, you gentlemen, and now she is coming to her own room, just withher old Theresa, to get the rest that she badly needs. "

With a motherly tenderness the gaunt woman put her arm round hermistress and led her from the room. 

"She has been with her all her life, " said Hopkins. "Nursed her asa baby, and came with her to England when they first left Australia, eighteen months ago. Theresa Wright is her name, and the kind of maidyou don't pick up nowadays. This way, Mr. Holmes, if you please!"

The keen interest had passed out of Holmes's expressive face, and Iknew that with the mystery all the charm of the case had departed. Therestill remained an arrest to be effected, but what were these commonplacerogues that he should soil his hands with them? An abstruse and learnedspecialist who finds that he has been called in for a case of measleswould experience something of the annoyance which I read in myfriend's eyes. Yet the scene in the dining-room of the Abbey Grange wassufficiently strange to arrest his attention and to recall his waninginterest. 

It was a very large and high chamber, with carved oak ceiling, oakenpanelling, and a fine array of deer's heads and ancient weapons aroundthe walls. At the further end from the door was the high French windowof which we had heard. Three smaller windows on the right-hand sidefilled the apartment with cold winter sunshine. On the left was a large, deep fireplace, with a massive, overhanging oak mantelpiece. Besidethe fireplace was a heavy oaken chair with arms and cross-bars at thebottom. In and out through the open woodwork was woven a crimson cord, which was secured at each side to the crosspiece below. In releasing thelady, the cord had been slipped off her, but the knots with which ithad been secured still remained. These details only struck our attentionafterwards, for our thoughts were entirely absorbed by the terribleobject which lay upon the tigerskin hearthrug in front of the fire. 

It was the body of a tall, well-made man, about forty years of age. He lay upon his back, his face upturned, with his white teeth grinningthrough his short, black beard. His two clenched hands were raisedabove his head, and a heavy, blackthorn stick lay across them. His dark, handsome, aquiline features were convulsed into a spasm of vindictivehatred, which had set his dead face in a terribly fiendish expression. He had evidently been in his bed when the alarm had broken out, for hewore a foppish, embroidered nightshirt, and his bare feet projected fromhis trousers. His head was horribly injured, and the whole room borewitness to the savage ferocity of the blow which had struck him down. Beside him lay the heavy poker, bent into a curve by the concussion. Holmes examined both it and the indescribable wreck which it hadwrought. 

"He must be a powerful man, this elder Randall, " he remarked. 

"Yes, " said Hopkins. "I have some record of the fellow, and he is arough customer. "

"You should have no difficulty in getting him. "

"Not the slightest. We have been on the look-out for him, and there wassome idea that he had got away to America. Now that we know that thegang are here, I don't see how they can escape. We have the news atevery seaport already, and a reward will be offered before evening. Whatbeats me is how they could have done so mad a thing, knowing that thelady could describe them and that we could not fail to recognize thedescription. "

"Exactly. One would have expected that they would silence LadyBrackenstall as well. "

"They may not have realized, " I suggested, "that she had recovered fromher faint. "

"That is likely enough. If she seemed to be senseless, they would nottake her life. What about this poor fellow, Hopkins? I seem to haveheard some queer stories about him. "

"He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend whenhe was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom reallywent the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such times, and hewas capable of anything. From what I hear, in spite of all his wealthand his title, he very nearly came our way once or twice. There wasa scandal about his drenching a dog with petroleum and setting it onfire--her ladyship's dog, to make the matter worse--and that was onlyhushed up with difficulty. Then he threw a decanter at that maid, Theresa Wright--there was trouble about that. On the whole, and betweenourselves, it will be a brighter house without him. What are you lookingat now?"

Holmes was down on his knees, examining with great attention theknots upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured. Then hecarefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it had snapped offwhen the burglar had dragged it down. 

"When this was pulled down, the bell in the kitchen must have rungloudly, " he remarked. 

"No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back of thehouse. "

"How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he pull at abell-rope in that reckless fashion?"

"Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which I haveasked myself again and again. There can be no doubt that this fellowmust have known the house and its habits. He must have perfectlyunderstood that the servants would all be in bed at that comparativelyearly hour, and that no one could possibly hear a bell ring in thekitchen. Therefore, he must have been in close league with one of theservants. Surely that is evident. But there are eight servants, and allof good character. "

"Other things being equal, " said Holmes, "one would suspect the oneat whose head the master threw a decanter. And yet that would involvetreachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems devoted. Well, well, the point is a minor one, and when you have Randall you willprobably find no difficulty in securing his accomplice. The lady's storycertainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed corroboration, by everydetail which we see before us. " He walked to the French window and threwit open. "There are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, and onewould not expect them. I see that these candles in the mantelpiece havebeen lighted. "

"Yes, it was by their light and that of the lady's bedroom candle, thatthe burglars saw their way about. "

"And what did they take?"

"Well, they did not take much--only half a dozen articles of plate offthe sideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they were themselves sodisturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack thehouse, as they would otherwise have done. "

"No doubt that is true, and yet they drank some wine, I understand. "

"To steady their nerves. "

"Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been untouched, Isuppose?"

"Yes, and the bottle stands as they left it. "

"Let us look at it. Halloa, halloa! What is this?"

The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged with wine, and one of them containing some dregs of beeswing. The bottle stood nearthem, two-thirds full, and beside it lay a long, deeply stained cork. Its appearance and the dust upon the bottle showed that it was no commonvintage which the murderers had enjoyed. 

A change had come over Holmes's manner. He had lost his listlessexpression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his keen, deep-set eyes. He raised the cork and examined it minutely. 

"How did they draw it?" he asked. 

Hopkins pointed to a half-opened drawer. In it lay some table linen anda large corkscrew. 

"Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?"

"No, you remember that she was senseless at the moment when the bottlewas opened. "

"Quite so. As a matter of fact, that screw was not used. This bottle wasopened by a pocket screw, probably contained in a knife, and not morethan an inch and a half long. If you will examine the top of the cork, you will observe that the screw was driven in three times before thecork was extracted. It has never been transfixed. This long screw wouldhave transfixed it and drawn it up with a single pull. When you catchthis fellow, you will find that he has one of these multiplex knives inhis possession. "

"Excellent!" said Hopkins. 

"But these glasses do puzzle me, I confess. Lady Brackenstall actuallySAW the three men drinking, did she not?"

"Yes; she was clear about that. "

"Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said? And yet, you mustadmit, that the three glasses are very remarkable, Hopkins. What? Yousee nothing remarkable? Well, well, let it pass. Perhaps, when a man hasspecial knowledge and special powers like my own, it rather encourageshim to seek a complex explanation when a simpler one is at hand. Ofcourse, it must be a mere chance about the glasses. Well, good-morning, Hopkins. I don't see that I can be of any use to you, and you appearto have your case very clear. You will let me know when Randall isarrested, and any further developments which may occur. I trust that Ishall soon have to congratulate you upon a successful conclusion. Come, Watson, I fancy that we may employ ourselves more profitably at home. "

During our return journey, I could see by Holmes's face that he was muchpuzzled by something which he had observed. Every now and then, by aneffort, he would throw off the impression, and talk as if the matterwere clear, but then his doubts would settle down upon him again, andhis knitted brows and abstracted eyes would show that his thoughts hadgone back once more to the great dining-room of the Abbey Grange, inwhich this midnight tragedy had been enacted. At last, by a suddenimpulse, just as our train was crawling out of a suburban station, hesprang on to the platform and pulled me out after him. 

"Excuse me, my dear fellow, " said he, as we watched the rear carriagesof our train disappearing round a curve, "I am sorry to make you thevictim of what may seem a mere whim, but on my life, Watson, I simplyCAN'T leave that case in this condition. Every instinct that I possesscries out against it. It's wrong--it's all wrong--I'll swear that it'swrong. And yet the lady's story was complete, the maid's corroborationwas sufficient, the detail was fairly exact. What have I to put upagainst that? Three wine-glasses, that is all. But if I had not takenthings for granted, if I had examined everything with the care whichI should have shown had we approached the case DE NOVO and had nocut-and-dried story to warp my mind, should I not then have foundsomething more definite to go upon? Of course I should. Sit down on thisbench, Watson, until a train for Chiselhurst arrives, and allow me tolay the evidence before you, imploring you in the first instance todismiss from your mind the idea that anything which the maid or hermistress may have said must necessarily be true. The lady's charmingpersonality must not be permitted to warp our judgment. 

"Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at in coldblood, would excite our suspicion. These burglars made a considerablehaul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of them and of theirappearance was in the papers, and would naturally occur to anyone whowished to invent a story in which imaginary robbers should play a part. As a matter of fact, burglars who have done a good stroke of businessare, as a rule, only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quietwithout embarking on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusualfor burglars to operate at so early an hour, it is unusual for burglarsto strike a lady to prevent her screaming, since one would imagine thatwas the sure way to make her scream, it is unusual for them to commitmurder when their numbers are sufficient to overpower one man, it isunusual for them to be content with a limited plunder when there wasmuch more within their reach, and finally, I should say, that it wasvery unusual for such men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all theseunusuals strike you, Watson?"

"Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each of themis quite possible in itself. The most unusual thing of all, as it seemsto me, is that the lady should be tied to the chair. "

"Well, I am not so clear about that, Watson, for it is evident that theymust either kill her or else secure her in such a way that she couldnot give immediate notice of their escape. But at any rate I have shown, have I not, that there is a certain element of improbability about thelady's story? And now, on the top of this, comes the incident of thewineglasses. "

"What about the wineglasses?"

"Can you see them in your mind's eye?"

"I see them clearly. "

"We are told that three men drank from them. Does that strike you aslikely?"

"Why not? There was wine in each glass. "

"Exactly, but there was beeswing only in one glass. You must havenoticed that fact. What does that suggest to your mind?"

"The last glass filled would be most likely to contain beeswing. "

"Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable thatthe first two glasses were clear and the third heavily charged with it. There are two possible explanations, and only two. One is that after thesecond glass was filled the bottle was violently agitated, and so thethird glass received the beeswing. That does not appear probable. No, no, I am sure that I am right. "

"What, then, do you suppose?"

"That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both were pouredinto a third glass, so as to give the false impression that three peoplehad been here. In that way all the beeswing would be in the last glass, would it not? Yes, I am convinced that this is so. But if I have hitupon the true explanation of this one small phenomenon, then inan instant the case rises from the commonplace to the exceedinglyremarkable, for it can only mean that Lady Brackenstall and her maidhave deliberately lied to us, that not one word of their story is to bebelieved, that they have some very strong reason for covering the realcriminal, and that we must construct our case for ourselves without anyhelp from them. That is the mission which now lies before us, and here, Watson, is the Sydenham train. "

The household at the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our return, butSherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had gone off to report toheadquarters, took possession of the dining-room, locked the door uponthe inside, and devoted himself for two hours to one of those minuteand laborious investigations which form the solid basis on which hisbrilliant edifices of deduction were reared. Seated in a corner like aninterested student who observes the demonstration of his professor, I followed every step of that remarkable research. The window, thecurtains, the carpet, the chair, the rope--each in turn was minutelyexamined and duly pondered. The body of the unfortunate baronet hadbeen removed, and all else remained as we had seen it in the morning. Finally, to my astonishment, Holmes climbed up on to the massivemantelpiece. Far above his head hung the few inches of red cord whichwere still attached to the wire. For a long time he gazed upward at it, and then in an attempt to get nearer to it he rested his knee upon awooden bracket on the wall. This brought his hand within a few inches ofthe broken end of the rope, but it was not this so much as the bracketitself which seemed to engage his attention. Finally, he sprang downwith an ejaculation of satisfaction. 

"It's all right, Watson, " said he. "We have got our case--one of themost remarkable in our collection. But, dear me, how slow-witted I havebeen, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime! Now, Ithink that, with a few missing links, my chain is almost complete. "

"You have got your men?"

"Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person. Strong as alion--witness the blow that bent that poker! Six foot three in height, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers, finally, remarkablyquick-witted, for this whole ingenious story is of his concoction. Yes, Watson, we have come upon the handiwork of a very remarkable individual. And yet, in that bell-rope, he has given us a clue which should not haveleft us a doubt. "

"Where was the clue?"

"Well, if you were to pull down a bell-rope, Watson, where would youexpect it to break? Surely at the spot where it is attached to the wire. Why should it break three inches from the top, as this one has done?"

"Because it is frayed there?"

"Exactly. This end, which we can examine, is frayed. He was cunningenough to do that with his knife. But the other end is not frayed. Youcould not observe that from here, but if you were on the mantelpiece youwould see that it is cut clean off without any mark of fraying whatever. You can reconstruct what occurred. The man needed the rope. He would nottear it down for fear of giving the alarm by ringing the bell. What didhe do? He sprang up on the mantelpiece, could not quite reach it, puthis knee on the bracket--you will see the impression in the dust--and sogot his knife to bear upon the cord. I could not reach the place by atleast three inches--from which I infer that he is at least three inchesa bigger man than I. Look at that mark upon the seat of the oaken chair!What is it?"

"Blood. "

"Undoubtedly it is blood. This alone puts the lady's story out of court. If she were seated on the chair when the crime was done, how comesthat mark? No, no, she was placed in the chair AFTER the death of herhusband. I'll wager that the black dress shows a corresponding mark tothis. We have not yet met our Waterloo, Watson, but this is our Marengo, for it begins in defeat and ends in victory. I should like now to havea few words with the nurse, Theresa. We must be wary for a while, if weare to get the information which we want. "

She was an interesting person, this stern Australian nurse--taciturn, suspicious, ungracious, it took some time before Holmes's pleasantmanner and frank acceptance of all that she said thawed her into acorresponding amiability. She did not attempt to conceal her hatred forher late employer. 

"Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me. I heard him callmy mistress a name, and I told him that he would not dare to speak so ifher brother had been there. Then it was that he threw it at me. Hemight have thrown a dozen if he had but left my bonny bird alone. He wasforever ill-treating her, and she too proud to complain. She will noteven tell me all that he has done to her. She never told me of thosemarks on her arm that you saw this morning, but I know very well thatthey come from a stab with a hatpin. The sly devil--God forgive me thatI should speak of him so, now that he is dead! But a devil he was, ifever one walked the earth. He was all honey when first we met him--onlyeighteen months ago, and we both feel as if it were eighteen years. Shehad only just arrived in London. Yes, it was her first voyage--she hadnever been from home before. He won her with his title and his moneyand his false London ways. If she made a mistake she has paid for it, if ever a woman did. What month did we meet him? Well, I tell you it wasjust after we arrived. We arrived in June, and it was July. They weremarried in January of last year. Yes, she is down in the morning-roomagain, and I have no doubt she will see you, but you must not ask toomuch of her, for she has gone through all that flesh and blood willstand. "

Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but looked brighterthan before. The maid had entered with us, and began once more to fomentthe bruise upon her mistress's brow. 

"I hope, " said the lady, "that you have not come to cross-examine meagain?"

"No, " Holmes answered, in his gentlest voice, "I will not cause you anyunnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall, and my whole desire is to makethings easy for you, for I am convinced that you are a much-tried woman. If you will treat me as a friend and trust me, you may find that I willjustify your trust. "

"What do you want me to do?"

"To tell me the truth. "

"Mr. Holmes!"

"No, no, Lady Brackenstall--it is no use. You may have heard of anylittle reputation which I possess. I will stake it all on the fact thatyour story is an absolute fabrication. "

Mistress and maid were both staring at Holmes with pale faces andfrightened eyes. 

"You are an impudent fellow!" cried Theresa. "Do you mean to say that mymistress has told a lie?"

Holmes rose from his chair. 

"Have you nothing to tell me?"

"I have told you everything. "

"Think once more, Lady Brackenstall. Would it not be better to befrank?"

For an instant there was hesitation in her beautiful face. Then some newstrong thought caused it to set like a mask. 

"I have told you all I know. "

Holmes took his hat and shrugged his shoulders. "I am sorry, " he said, and without another word we left the room and the house. There was apond in the park, and to this my friend led the way. It was frozenover, but a single hole was left for the convenience of a solitaryswan. Holmes gazed at it, and then passed on to the lodge gate. Therehe scribbled a short note for Stanley Hopkins, and left it with thelodge-keeper. 

"It may be a hit, or it may be a miss, but we are bound to do somethingfor friend Hopkins, just to justify this second visit, " said he. "I willnot quite take him into my confidence yet. I think our next scene ofoperations must be the shipping office of the Adelaide-Southampton line, which stands at the end of Pall Mall, if I remember right. There is asecond line of steamers which connect South Australia with England, butwe will draw the larger cover first. "

Holmes's card sent in to the manager ensured instant attention, and hewas not long in acquiring all the information he needed. In June of'95, only one of their line had reached a home port. It was the ROCKOF GIBRALTAR, their largest and best boat. A reference to the passengerlist showed that Miss Fraser, of Adelaide, with her maid had made thevoyage in her. The boat was now somewhere south of the Suez Canal onher way to Australia. Her officers were the same as in '95, with oneexception. The first officer, Mr. Jack Crocker, had been made a captainand was to take charge of their new ship, the BASS ROCK, sailing in twodays' time from Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he was likely tobe in that morning for instructions, if we cared to wait for him. 

No, Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to know moreabout his record and character. 

His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in the fleet totouch him. As to his character, he was reliable on duty, but a wild, desperate fellow off the deck of his ship--hot-headed, excitable, butloyal, honest, and kind-hearted. That was the pith of the informationwith which Holmes left the office of the Adelaide-Southampton company. Thence he drove to Scotland Yard, but, instead of entering, he sat inhis cab with his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought. Finally hedrove round to the Charing Cross telegraph office, sent off a message, and then, at last, we made for Baker Street once more. 

"No, I couldn't do it, Watson, " said he, as we reentered our room. "Oncethat warrant was made out, nothing on earth would save him. Onceor twice in my career I feel that I have done more real harm by mydiscovery of the criminal than ever he had done by his crime. I havelearned caution now, and I had rather play tricks with the law ofEngland than with my own conscience. Let us know a little more before weact. "

Before evening, we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins. Thingswere not going very well with him. 

"I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really do sometimesthink that you have powers that are not human. Now, how on earth couldyou know that the stolen silver was at the bottom of that pond?"

"I didn't know it. "

"But you told me to examine it. "

"You got it, then?"

"Yes, I got it. "

"I am very glad if I have helped you. "

"But you haven't helped me. You have made the affair far more difficult. What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and then throw it intothe nearest pond?"

"It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. I was merely going onthe idea that if the silver had been taken by persons who did notwant it--who merely took it for a blind, as it were--then they wouldnaturally be anxious to get rid of it. "

"But why should such an idea cross your mind?"

"Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through the Frenchwindow, there was the pond with one tempting little hole in the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there be a better hiding-place?"

"Ah, a hiding-place--that is better!" cried Stanley Hopkins. "Yes, yes, I see it all now! It was early, there were folk upon the roads, theywere afraid of being seen with the silver, so they sank it in the pond, intending to return for it when the coast was clear. Excellent, Mr. Holmes--that is better than your idea of a blind. "

"Quite so, you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt that myown ideas were quite wild, but you must admit that they have ended indiscovering the silver. "

"Yes, sir--yes. It was all your doing. But I have had a bad setback. "

"A setback?"

"Yes, Mr. Holmes. The Randall gang were arrested in New York thismorning. "

"Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your theory thatthey committed a murder in Kent last night. "

"It is fatal, Mr. Holmes--absolutely fatal. Still, there are other gangsof three besides the Randalls, or it may be some new gang of which thepolice have never heard. "

"Quite so, it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?"

"Yes, Mr. Holmes, there is no rest for me until I have got to the bottomof the business. I suppose you have no hint to give me?"

"I have given you one. "

"Which?"

"Well, I suggested a blind. "

"But why, Mr. Holmes, why?"

"Ah, that's the question, of course. But I commend the idea to yourmind. You might possibly find that there was something in it. You won'tstop for dinner? Well, good-bye, and let us know how you get on. "

Dinner was over, and the table cleared before Holmes alluded to thematter again. He had lit his pipe and held his slippered feet to thecheerful blaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked at his watch. 

"I expect developments, Watson. "

"When?"

"Now--within a few minutes. I dare say you thought I acted rather badlyto Stanley Hopkins just now?"

"I trust your judgment. "

"A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it this way: whatI know is unofficial, what he knows is official. I have the right toprivate judgment, but he has none. He must disclose all, or he is atraitor to his service. In a doubtful case I would not put him in sopainful a position, and so I reserve my information until my own mind isclear upon the matter. "

"But when will that be?"

"The time has come. You will now be present at the last scene of aremarkable little drama. "

There was a sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened to admit asfine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it. He was a verytall young man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed, with a skin which had beenburned by tropical suns, and a springy step, which showed that the hugeframe was as active as it was strong. He closed the door behind him, andthen he stood with clenched hands and heaving breast, choking down someovermastering emotion. 

"Sit down, Captain Crocker. You got my telegram?"

Our visitor sank into an armchair and looked from one to the other of uswith questioning eyes. 

"I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. I heard that youhad been down to the office. There was no getting away from you. Let'shear the worst. What are you going to do with me? Arrest me? Speak out, man! You can't sit there and play with me like a cat with a mouse. "

"Give him a cigar, " said Holmes. "Bite on that, Captain Crocker, anddon't let your nerves run away with you. I should not sit here smokingwith you if I thought that you were a common criminal, you may be sureof that. Be frank with me and we may do some good. Play tricks with me, and I'll crush you. "

"What do you wish me to do?"

"To give me a true account of all that happened at the Abbey Grange lastnight--a TRUE account, mind you, with nothing added and nothing takenoff. I know so much already that if you go one inch off the straight, I'll blow this police whistle from my window and the affair goes out ofmy hands forever. "

The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg with his greatsunburned hand. 

"I'll chance it, " he cried. "I believe you are a man of your word, anda white man, and I'll tell you the whole story. But one thing I will sayfirst. So far as I am concerned, I regret nothing and I fear nothing, and I would do it all again and be proud of the job. Damn the beast, ifhe had as many lives as a cat, he would owe them all to me! But it'sthe lady, Mary--Mary Fraser--for never will I call her by that accursedname. When I think of getting her into trouble, I who would give my lifejust to bring one smile to her dear face, it's that that turns my soulinto water. And yet--and yet--what less could I do? I'll tell you mystory, gentlemen, and then I'll ask you, as man to man, what less couldI do?

"I must go back a bit. You seem to know everything, so I expect that youknow that I met her when she was a passenger and I was first officer ofthe ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. From the first day I met her, she was the onlywoman to me. Every day of that voyage I loved her more, and many a timesince have I kneeled down in the darkness of the night watch and kissedthe deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod it. She wasnever engaged to me. She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treateda man. I have no complaint to make. It was all love on my side, and allgood comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted she was a freewoman, but I could never again be a free man. 

"Next time I came back from sea, I heard of her marriage. Well, whyshouldn't she marry whom she liked? Title and money--who could carrythem better than she? She was born for all that is beautiful and dainty. I didn't grieve over her marriage. I was not such a selfish hound asthat. I just rejoiced that good luck had come her way, and that she hadnot thrown herself away on a penniless sailor. That's how I loved MaryFraser. 

"Well, I never thought to see her again, but last voyage I was promoted, and the new boat was not yet launched, so I had to wait for a couple ofmonths with my people at Sydenham. One day out in a country lane I metTheresa Wright, her old maid. She told me all about her, about him, about everything. I tell you, gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad. Thisdrunken hound, that he should dare to raise his hand to her, whoseboots he was not worthy to lick! I met Theresa again. Then I met Maryherself--and met her again. Then she would meet me no more. But theother day I had a notice that I was to start on my voyage within a week, and I determined that I would see her once before I left. Theresa wasalways my friend, for she loved Mary and hated this villain almost asmuch as I did. From her I learned the ways of the house. Mary used tosit up reading in her own little room downstairs. I crept round therelast night and scratched at the window. At first she would not open tome, but in her heart I know that now she loves me, and she could notleave me in the frosty night. She whispered to me to come round to thebig front window, and I found it open before me, so as to let me intothe dining-room. Again I heard from her own lips things that made myblood boil, and again I cursed this brute who mishandled the woman Iloved. Well, gentlemen, I was standing with her just inside the window, in all innocence, as God is my judge, when he rushed like a madman intothe room, called her the vilest name that a man could use to a woman, and welted her across the face with the stick he had in his hand. I hadsprung 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 wentthrough him as if he had been a rotten pumpkin. Do you think I wassorry? Not I! It was his life or mine, but far more than that, it washis life or hers, for how could I leave her in the power of this madman?That was how I killed him. Was I wrong? Well, then, what would either ofyou gentlemen have done, if you had been in my position?"

"She had screamed when he struck her, and that brought old Theresa downfrom the room above. There was a bottle of wine on the sideboard, and Iopened it and poured a little between Mary's lips, for she was half deadwith shock. Then I took a drop myself. Theresa was as cool as ice, andit was her plot as much as mine. We must make it appear that burglarshad done the thing. Theresa kept on repeating our story to her mistress, while I swarmed up and cut the rope of the bell. Then I lashed her inher chair, and frayed out the end of the rope to make it look natural, else they would wonder how in the world a burglar could have got upthere to cut it. Then I gathered up a few plates and pots of silver, tocarry out the idea of the robbery, and there I left them, with ordersto give the alarm when I had a quarter of an hour's start. I dropped thesilver into the pond, and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for oncein my life I had done a real good night's work. And that's the truth andthe whole truth, Mr. Holmes, if it costs me my neck. "

Holmes smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossed the room, andshook our visitor by the hand. 

"That's what I think, " said he. "I know that every word is true, for youhave hardly said a word which I did not know. No one but an acrobat or asailor could have got up to that bell-rope from the bracket, and no onebut a sailor could have made the knots with which the cord was fastenedto the chair. Only once had this lady been brought into contact withsailors, and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own classof life, since she was trying hard to shield him, and so showing thatshe loved him. You see how easy it was for me to lay my hands upon youwhen once I had started upon the right trail. "

"I thought the police never could have seen through our dodge. "

"And the police haven't, nor will they, to the best of my belief. Now, look here, Captain Crocker, this is a very serious matter, though I amwilling to admit that you acted under the most extreme provocation towhich any man could be subjected. I am not sure that in defence of yourown life your action will not be pronounced legitimate. However, that isfor a British jury to decide. Meanwhile I have so much sympathy for youthat, if you choose to disappear in the next twenty-four hours, I willpromise you that no one will hinder you. "

"And then it will all come out?"

"Certainly it will come out. "

The sailor flushed with anger. 

"What sort of proposal is that to make a man? I know enough of law tounderstand that Mary would be held as accomplice. Do you think I wouldleave her alone to face the music while I slunk away? No, sir, let themdo their worst upon me, but for heaven's sake, Mr. Holmes, find some wayof keeping my poor Mary out of the courts. "

Holmes for a second time held out his hand to the sailor. 

"I was only testing you, and you ring true every time. Well, it is agreat responsibility that I take upon myself, but I have given Hopkinsan excellent hint and if he can't avail himself of it I can do no more. See here, Captain Crocker, we'll do this in due form of law. You are theprisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who wasmore eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentlemanof the jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find the prisonerguilty or not guilty?"

"Not guilty, my lord, " said I. 

"VOX POPULI, VOX DEI. You are acquitted, Captain Crocker. So long as thelaw does not find some other victim you are safe from me. Come backto this lady in a year, and may her future and yours justify us in thejudgment which we have pronounced this night!"

THE ADVENTURE OF THE SECOND STAIN

I had intended "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange" to be the last ofthose exploits of my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, which I should evercommunicate to the public. This resolution of mine was not due to anylack of material, since I have notes of many hundreds of cases to whichI have never alluded, nor was it caused by any waning interest on thepart of my readers in the singular personality and unique methods ofthis remarkable man. The real reason lay in the reluctance which Mr. Holmes has shown to the continued publication of his experiences. So long as he was in actual professional practice the records ofhis successes were of some practical value to him, but since hehas definitely retired from London and betaken himself to study andbee-farming on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become hateful to him, and he has peremptorily requested that his wishes in this matter shouldbe strictly observed. It was only upon my representing to him that Ihad given a promise that "The Adventure of the Second Stain" should bepublished when the times were ripe, and pointing out to him that it isonly appropriate that this long series of episodes should culminate inthe most important international case which he has ever been calledupon to handle, that I at last succeeded in obtaining his consent that acarefully guarded account of the incident should at last be laid beforethe public. If in telling the story I seem to be somewhat vague incertain details, the public will readily understand that there is anexcellent reason for my reticence. 

It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall be nameless, that upon one Tuesday morning in autumn we found two visitors ofEuropean fame within the walls of our humble room in Baker Street. Theone, austere, high-nosed, eagle-eyed, and dominant, was none other thanthe illustrious Lord Bellinger, twice Premier of Britain. The other, dark, clear-cut, and elegant, hardly yet of middle age, and endowed withevery beauty of body and of mind, was the Right Honourable TrelawneyHope, Secretary for European Affairs, and the most rising statesman inthe country. They sat side by side upon our paper-littered settee, and it was easy to see from their worn and anxious faces that it wasbusiness of the most pressing importance which had brought them. ThePremier's thin, blue-veined hands were clasped tightly over the ivoryhead of his umbrella, and his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily fromHolmes to me. The European Secretary pulled nervously at his moustacheand fidgeted with the seals of his watch-chain. 

"When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight o'clock thismorning, I at once informed the Prime Minister. It was at his suggestionthat we have both come to you. "

"Have you informed the police?"

"No, sir, " said the Prime Minister, with the quick, decisive manner forwhich he was famous. "We have not done so, nor is it possible that weshould do so. To inform the police must, in the long run, mean to informthe public. This is what we particularly desire to avoid. "

"And why, sir?"

"Because the document in question is of such immense importance thatits publication might very easily--I might almost say probably--lead toEuropean complications of the utmost moment. It is not too much to saythat peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its recovery can beattended with the utmost secrecy, then it may as well not be recoveredat all, for all that is aimed at by those who have taken it is that itscontents should be generally known. "

"I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much obliged ifyou would tell me exactly the circumstances under which this documentdisappeared. "

"That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes. The letter--for itwas a letter from a foreign potentate--was received six days ago. It wasof such importance that I have never left it in my safe, but have takenit across each evening to my house in Whitehall Terrace, and kept it inmy bedroom in a locked despatch-box. It was there last night. Of thatI am certain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing for dinnerand saw the document inside. This morning it was gone. The despatch-boxhad stood beside the glass upon my dressing-table all night. I am alight sleeper, and so is my wife. We are both prepared to swear that noone could have entered the room during the night. And yet I repeat thatthe paper is gone. "

"What time did you dine?"

"Half-past seven. "

"How long was it before you went to bed?"

"My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up for her. It was half-pasteleven before we went to our room. "

"Then for four hours the despatch-box had lain unguarded?"

"No one is ever permitted to enter that room save the house-maid in themorning, and my valet, or my wife's maid, during the rest of the day. They are both trusty servants who have been with us for some time. Besides, neither of them could possibly have known that there wasanything more valuable than the ordinary departmental papers in mydespatch-box. "

"Who did know of the existence of that letter?"

"No one in the house. "

"Surely your wife knew?"

"No, sir. I had said nothing to my wife until I missed the paper thismorning. "

The Premier nodded approvingly. 

"I have long known, sir, how high is your sense of public duty, " saidhe. "I am convinced that in the case of a secret of this importance itwould rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties. "

The European Secretary bowed. 

"You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morning I have neverbreathed one word to my wife upon this matter. "

"Could she have guessed?"

"No, Mr. Holmes, she could not have guessed--nor could anyone haveguessed. "

"Have you lost any documents before?"

"No, sir. "

"Who is there in England who did know of the existence of this letter?"

"Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday, but the pledgeof secrecy which attends every Cabinet meeting was increased by thesolemn warning which was given by the Prime Minister. Good heavens, to think that within a few hours I should myself have lost it!" Hishandsome face was distorted with a spasm of despair, and his handstore at his hair. For a moment we caught a glimpse of the natural man, impulsive, ardent, keenly sensitive. The next the aristocratic mask wasreplaced, and the gentle voice had returned. "Besides the members ofthe Cabinet there are two, or possibly three, departmental officials whoknow of the letter. No one else in England, Mr. Holmes, I assure you. "

"But abroad?"

"I believe that no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it. Iam well convinced that his Ministers--that the usual official channelshave not been employed. "

Holmes considered for some little time. 

"Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is, andwhy its disappearance should have such momentous consequences?"

The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier's shaggyeyebrows gathered in a frown. 

"Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour. Thereis a seal of red wax stamped with a crouching lion. It is addressed inlarge, bold handwriting to----"

"I fear, sir, " said Holmes, "that, interesting and indeed essential asthese details are, my inquiries must go more to the root of things. WhatWAS the letter?"

"That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fear that Icannot tell you, nor do I see that it is necessary. If by the aid of thepowers which you are said to possess you can find such an envelope asI describe with its enclosure, you will have deserved well of yourcountry, and earned any reward which it lies in our power to bestow. "

Sherlock Holmes rose with a smile. 

"You are two of the most busy men in the country, " said he, "and inmy own small way I have also a good many calls upon me. I regretexceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter, and any continuationof this interview would be a waste of time. "

The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam of hisdeep-set eyes before which a Cabinet has cowered. "I am not accustomed, sir, " he began, but mastered his anger and resumed his seat. For aminute or more we all sat in silence. Then the old statesman shruggedhis shoulders. 

"We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right, andit is unreasonable for us to expect you to act unless we give you ourentire confidence. "

"I agree with you, " said the younger statesman. 

"Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour and that ofyour colleague, Dr. Watson. I may appeal to your patriotism also, forI could not imagine a greater misfortune for the country than that thisaffair should come out. "

"You may safely trust us. "

"The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate who has beenruffled by some recent Colonial developments of this country. Ithas been written hurriedly and upon his own responsibility entirely. Inquiries have shown that his Ministers know nothing of the matter. At the same time it is couched in so unfortunate a manner, and certainphrases in it are of so provocative a character, that its publicationwould undoubtedly lead to a most dangerous state of feeling in thiscountry. There would be such a ferment, sir, that I do not hesitate tosay that within a week of the publication of that letter this countrywould be involved in a great war. "

Holmes wrote a name upon a slip of paper and handed it to the Premier. 

"Exactly. It was he. And it is this letter--this letter which may wellmean the expenditure of a thousand millions and the lives of a hundredthousand men--which has become lost in this unaccountable fashion. "

"Have you informed the sender?"

"Yes, sir, a cipher telegram has been despatched. "

"Perhaps he desires the publication of the letter. "

"No, sir, we have strong reason to believe that he already understandsthat he has acted in an indiscreet and hot-headed manner. It would be agreater blow to him and to his country than to us if this letter were tocome out. "

"If this is so, whose interest is it that, the letter should come out?Why should anyone desire to steal it or to publish it?"

"There, Mr. Holmes, you take me into regions of high internationalpolitics. But if you consider the European situation you will have nodifficulty in perceiving the motive. The whole of Europe is an armedcamp. There is a double league which makes a fair balance of militarypower. Great Britain holds the scales. If Britain were driven intowar with one confederacy, it would assure the supremacy of the otherconfederacy, whether they joined in the war or not. Do you follow?"

"Very clearly. It is then the interest of the enemies of this potentateto secure and publish this letter, so as to make a breach between hiscountry and ours?"

"Yes, sir. "

"And to whom would this document be sent if it fell into the hands of anenemy?"

"To any of the great Chancelleries of Europe. It is probably speeding onits way thither at the present instant as fast as steam can take it. "

Mr. Trelawney Hope dropped his head on his chest and groaned aloud. ThePremier placed his hand kindly upon his shoulder. 

"It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you. There isno precaution which you have neglected. Now, Mr. Holmes, you are in fullpossession of the facts. What course do you recommend?"

Holmes shook his head mournfully. 

"You think, sir, that unless this document is recovered there will bewar?"

"I think it is very probable. "

"Then, sir, prepare for war. "

"That is a hard saying, Mr. Holmes. "

"Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was taken aftereleven-thirty at night, since I understand that Mr. Hope and his wifewere both in the room from that hour until the loss was found out. It was taken, then, yesterday evening between seven-thirty andeleven-thirty, probably near the earlier hour, since whoever took itevidently knew that it was there and would naturally secure it as earlyas possible. Now, sir, if a document of this importance were taken atthat hour, where can it be now? No one has any reason to retain it. Ithas been passed rapidly on to those who need it. What chance have we nowto overtake or even to trace it? It is beyond our reach. "

The Prime Minister rose from the settee. 

"What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. Holmes. I feel that the matteris indeed out of our hands. "

"Let us presume, for argument's sake, that the document was taken by themaid or by the valet----"

"They are both old and tried servants. "

"I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor, thatthere is no entrance from without, and that from within no one could goup unobserved. It must, then, be somebody in the house who has taken it. To whom would the thief take it? To one of several international spiesand secret agents, whose names are tolerably familiar to me. There arethree who may be said to be the heads of their profession. I will beginmy research by going round and finding if each of them is at his post. If one is missing--especially if he has disappeared since last night--wewill have some indication as to where the document has gone. "

"Why should he be missing?" asked the European Secretary. "He would takethe letter to an Embassy in London, as likely as not. "

"I fancy not. These agents work independently, and their relations withthe Embassies are often strained. "

The Prime Minister nodded his acquiescence. 

"I believe you are right, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuable a prizeto headquarters with his own hands. I think that your course of actionis an excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope, we cannot neglect all our otherduties on account of this one misfortune. Should there be any freshdevelopments during the day we shall communicate with you, and you willno doubt let us know the results of your own inquiries. "

The two statesmen bowed and walked gravely from the room. 

When our illustrious visitors had departed Holmes lit his pipe insilence and sat for some time lost in the deepest thought. I had openedthe morning paper and was immersed in a sensational crime which hadoccurred in London the night before, when my friend gave an exclamation, sprang to his feet, and laid his pipe down upon the mantelpiece. 

"Yes, " said he, "there is no better way of approaching it. The situationis desperate, but not hopeless. Even now, if we could be sure which ofthem has taken it, it is just possible that it has not yet passed out ofhis hands. After all, it is a question of money with these fellows, andI have the British treasury behind me. If it's on the market I'll buyit--if it means another penny on the income-tax. It is conceivablethat the fellow might hold it back to see what bids come from thisside before he tries his luck on the other. There are only those threecapable of playing so bold a game--there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, andEduardo Lucas. I will see each of them. "

I glanced at my morning paper. 

"Is that Eduardo Lucas of Godolphin Street?"

"Yes. "

"You will not see him. "

"Why not?"

"He was murdered in his house last night. "

My friend has so often astonished me in the course of our adventuresthat it was with a sense of exultation that I realized how completely Ihad astonished him. He stared in amazement, and then snatched thepaper from my hands. This was the paragraph which I had been engaged inreading when he rose from his chair. 

MURDER IN WESTMINSTER

A crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16 GodolphinStreet, one of the old-fashioned and secluded rows of eighteenth centuryhouses which lie between the river and the Abbey, almost in the shadowof the great Tower of the Houses of Parliament. This small but selectmansion has been inhabited for some years by Mr. Eduardo Lucas, wellknown in society circles both on account of his charming personalityand because he has the well-deserved reputation of being one of thebest amateur tenors in the country. Mr. Lucas is an unmarried man, thirty-four years of age, and his establishment consists of Mrs. Pringle, an elderly housekeeper, and of Mitton, his valet. The formerretires early and sleeps at the top of the house. The valet was out forthe evening, visiting a friend at Hammersmith. From ten o'clock onwardMr. Lucas had the house to himself. What occurred during that time hasnot yet transpired, but at a quarter to twelve Police-constable Barrett, passing along Godolphin Street observed that the door of No. 16 wasajar. He knocked, but received no answer. Perceiving a light in thefront room, he advanced into the passage and again knocked, but withoutreply. He then pushed open the door and entered. The room was in a stateof wild disorder, the furniture being all swept to one side, and onechair lying on its back in the centre. Beside this chair, and stillgrasping one of its legs, lay the unfortunate tenant of the house. Hehad been stabbed to the heart and must have died instantly. The knifewith which the crime had been committed was a curved Indian dagger, plucked down from a trophy of Oriental arms which adorned one of thewalls. Robbery does not appear to have been the motive of the crime, forthere had been no attempt to remove the valuable contents of the room. Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well known and popular that his violent andmysterious fate will arouse painful interest and intense sympathy in awidespread circle of friends. 

"Well, Watson, what do you make of this?" asked Holmes, after a longpause. 

"It is an amazing coincidence. "

"A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whom we had named aspossible actors in this drama, and he meets a violent death during thevery hours when we know that that drama was being enacted. The odds areenormous against its being coincidence. No figures could express them. No, my dear Watson, the two events are connected--MUST be connected. Itis for us to find the connection. "

"But now the official police must know all. "

"Not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street. They know--andshall know--nothing of Whitehall Terrace. Only WE know of both events, and can trace the relation between them. There is one obvious pointwhich would, in any case, have turned my suspicions against Lucas. Godolphin Street, Westminster, is only a few minutes' walk fromWhitehall Terrace. The other secret agents whom I have named live inthe extreme West End. It was easier, therefore, for Lucas than for theothers to establish a connection or receive a message from theEuropean Secretary's household--a small thing, and yet where events arecompressed into a few hours it may prove essential. Halloa! what have wehere?"

Mrs. Hudson had appeared with a lady's card upon her salver. Holmesglanced at it, raised his eyebrows, and handed it over to me. 

"Ask Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope if she will be kind enough to step up, "said he. 

A moment later our modest apartment, already so distinguished thatmorning, was further honoured by the entrance of the most lovely womanin London. I had often heard of the beauty of the youngest daughter ofthe Duke of Belminster, but no description of it, and no contemplationof colourless photographs, had prepared me for the subtle, delicatecharm and the beautiful colouring of that exquisite head. And yet aswe saw it that autumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be thefirst thing to impress the observer. The cheek was lovely but it waspaled with emotion, the eyes were bright but it was the brightnessof fever, the sensitive mouth was tight and drawn in an effort afterself-command. Terror--not beauty--was what sprang first to the eye asour fair visitor stood framed for an instant in the open door. 

"Has my husband been here, Mr. Holmes?"

"Yes, madam, he has been here. "

"Mr. Holmes. I implore you not to tell him that I came here. " Holmesbowed coldly, and motioned the lady to a chair. 

"Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position. I beg that youwill sit down and tell me what you desire, but I fear that I cannot makeany unconditional promise. "

She swept across the room and seated herself with her back to thewindow. It was a queenly presence--tall, graceful, and intenselywomanly. "Mr. Holmes, " she said--and her white-gloved hands clasped andunclasped as she spoke--"I will speak frankly to you in the hopesthat it may induce you to speak frankly in return. There is completeconfidence between my husband and me on all matters save one. That oneis politics. On this his lips are sealed. He tells me nothing. Now, Iam aware that there was a most deplorable occurrence in our house lastnight. I know that a paper has disappeared. But because the matter ispolitical my husband refuses to take me into his complete confidence. Now it is essential--essential, I say--that I should thoroughlyunderstand it. You are the only other person, save only thesepoliticians, who knows the true facts. I beg you then, Mr. Holmes, totell me exactly what has happened and what it will lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let no regard for your client's interests keep you silent, for I assure you that his interests, if he would only see it, would bebest served by taking me into his complete confidence. What was thispaper which was stolen?"

"Madam, what you ask me is really impossible. "

She groaned and sank her face in her hands. 

"You must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinks fit to keepyou in the dark over this matter, is it for me, who has only learned thetrue facts under the pledge of professional secrecy, to tell what he haswithheld? It is not fair to ask it. It is him whom you must ask. "

"I have asked him. I come to you as a last resource. But without yourtelling me anything definite, Mr. Holmes, you may do a great service ifyou would enlighten me on one point. "

"What is it, madam?"

"Is my husband's political career likely to suffer through thisincident?"

"Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly have a veryunfortunate effect. "

"Ah!" She drew in her breath sharply as one whose doubts are resolved. 

"One more question, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which my husbanddropped in the first shock of this disaster I understood that terriblepublic consequences might arise from the loss of this document. "

"If he said so, I certainly cannot deny it. "

"Of what nature are they?"

"Nay, madam, there again you ask me more than I can possibly answer. "

"Then I will take up no more of your time. I cannot blame you, Mr. Holmes, for having refused to speak more freely, and you on your sidewill not, I am sure, think the worse of me because I desire, evenagainst his will, to share my husband's anxieties. Once more I beg thatyou will say nothing of my visit. "

She looked back at us from the door, and I had a last impression of thatbeautiful haunted face, the startled eyes, and the drawn mouth. Then shewas gone. 

"Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department, " said Holmes, with asmile, when the dwindling frou-frou of skirts had ended in the slamof the front door. "What was the fair lady's game? What did she reallywant?"

"Surely her own statement is clear and her anxiety very natural. "

"Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson--her manner, her suppressedexcitement, her restlessness, her tenacity in asking questions. Rememberthat she comes of a caste who do not lightly show emotion. "

"She was certainly much moved. "

"Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assured us that itwas best for her husband that she should know all. What did she mean bythat? And you must have observed, Watson, how she manoeuvred to have thelight at her back. She did not wish us to read her expression. "

"Yes, she chose the one chair in the room. "

"And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable. You remember thewoman at Margate whom I suspected for the same reason. No powder on hernose--that proved to be the correct solution. How can you build on sucha quicksand? Their most trivial action may mean volumes, or their mostextraordinary conduct may depend upon a hairpin or a curling tongs. Good-morning, Watson. "

"You are off?"

"Yes, I will while away the morning at Godolphin Street with our friendsof the regular establishment. With Eduardo Lucas lies the solution ofour problem, though I must admit that I have not an inkling as to whatform it may take. It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance ofthe facts. Do you stay on guard, my good Watson, and receive any freshvisitors. I'll join you at lunch if I am able. "

All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in a mood which hisfriends would call taciturn, and others morose. He ran out and ran in, smoked incessantly, played snatches on his violin, sank into reveries, devoured sandwiches at irregular hours, and hardly answered the casualquestions which I put to him. It was evident to me that things were notgoing well with him or his quest. He would say nothing of the case, andit was from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest, and the arrest with the subsequent release of John Mitton, the valet ofthe deceased. The coroner's jury brought in the obvious Wilful Murder, but the parties remained as unknown as ever. No motive was suggested. The room was full of articles of value, but none had been taken. Thedead man's papers had not been tampered with. They were carefullyexamined, and showed that he was a keen student of internationalpolitics, an indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and anuntiring letter writer. He had been on intimate terms with the leadingpoliticians of several countries. But nothing sensational was discoveredamong the documents which filled his drawers. As to his relations withwomen, they appeared to have been promiscuous but superficial. He hadmany acquaintances among them, but few friends, and no one whom heloved. His habits were regular, his conduct inoffensive. His death wasan absolute mystery and likely to remain so. 

As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a council of despairas an alternative to absolute inaction. But no case could be sustainedagainst him. He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night. The ALIBIwas complete. It is true that he started home at an hour which shouldhave brought him to Westminster before the time when the crime wasdiscovered, but his own explanation that he had walked part of the wayseemed probable enough in view of the fineness of the night. He hadactually arrived at twelve o'clock, and appeared to be overwhelmedby the unexpected tragedy. He had always been on good terms with hismaster. Several of the dead man's possessions--notably a small case ofrazors--had been found in the valet's boxes, but he explained that theyhad been presents from the deceased, and the housekeeper was able tocorroborate the story. Mitton had been in Lucas's employment for threeyears. It was noticeable that Lucas did not take Mitton on the Continentwith him. Sometimes he visited Paris for three months on end, but Mittonwas left in charge of the Godolphin Street house. As to the housekeeper, she had heard nothing on the night of the crime. If her master had avisitor he had himself admitted him. 

So for three mornings the mystery remained, so far as I could follow itin the papers. If Holmes knew more, he kept his own counsel, but, ashe told me that Inspector Lestrade had taken him into hisconfidence in the case, I knew that he was in close touch with everydevelopment. Upon the fourth day there appeared a long telegram fromParis which seemed to solve the whole question. 

A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police [said the DAILYTELEGRAPH] which raises the veil which hung round the tragic fate ofMr. Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence last Monday nightat Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember thatthe deceased gentleman was found stabbed in his room, and that somesuspicion attached to his valet, but that the case broke down on anALIBI. Yesterday a lady, who has been known as Mme. Henri Fournaye, occupying a small villa in the Rue Austerlitz, was reported to theauthorities by her servants as being insane. An examination showedshe had indeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form. On inquiry, the police have discovered that Mme. Henri Fournaye onlyreturned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and there isevidence to connect her with the crime at Westminster. A comparison ofphotographs has proved conclusively that M. Henri Fournaye and EduardoLucas were really one and the same person, and that the deceased had forsome reason lived a double life in London and Paris. Mme. Fournaye, who is of Creole origin, is of an extremely excitable nature, and hassuffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted tofrenzy. It is conjectured that it was in one of these that she committedthe terrible crime which has caused such a sensation in London. Hermovements upon the Monday night have not yet been traced, but it isundoubted that a woman answering to her description attracted muchattention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesday morning by the wildnessof her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It is probable, therefore, that the crime was either committed when insane, or thatits immediate effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of her mind. Atpresent she is unable to give any coherent account of the past, and thedoctors hold out no hopes of the reestablishment of her reason. There isevidence that a woman, who might have been Mme. Fournaye, was seen forsome hours upon Monday night watching the house in Godolphin Street. 

"What do you think of that, Holmes?" I had read the account aloud tohim, while he finished his breakfast. 

"My dear Watson, " said he, as he rose from the table and paced up anddown the room, "You are most long-suffering, but if I have told younothing in the last three days, it is because there is nothing to tell. Even now this report from Paris does not help us much. "

"Surely it is final as regards the man's death. "

"The man's death is a mere incident--a trivial episode--in comparisonwith our real task, which is to trace this document and save a Europeancatastrophe. Only one important thing has happened in the last threedays, and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports almost hourlyfrom the government, and it is certain that nowhere in Europe is thereany sign of trouble. Now, if this letter were loose--no, it CAN'T beloose--but if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has it? Why is itheld back? That's the question that beats in my brain like a hammer. Wasit, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas should meet his death on the nightwhen the letter disappeared? Did the letter ever reach him? If so, whyis it not among his papers? Did this mad wife of his carry it off withher? If so, is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for itwithout the French police having their suspicions aroused? It is a case, my dear Watson, where the law is as dangerous to us as the criminalsare. Every man's hand is against us, and yet the interests at stakeare colossal. Should I bring it to a successful conclusion, it willcertainly represent the crowning glory of my career. Ah, here is mylatest from the front!" He glanced hurriedly at the note which hadbeen handed in. "Halloa! Lestrade seems to have observed something ofinterest. Put on your hat, Watson, and we will stroll down together toWestminster. "

It was my first visit to the scene of the crime--a high, dingy, narrow-chested house, prim, formal, and solid, like the century whichgave it birth. Lestrade's bulldog features gazed out at us from thefront window, and he greeted us warmly when a big constable had openedthe door and let us in. The room into which we were shown was that inwhich the crime had been committed, but no trace of it now remained savean ugly, irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a small squaredrugget in the centre of the room, surrounded by a broad expanseof beautiful, old-fashioned wood-flooring in square blocks, highlypolished. Over the fireplace was a magnificent trophy of weapons, one ofwhich had been used on that tragic night. In the window was a sumptuouswriting-desk, and every detail of the apartment, the pictures, the rugs, and the hangings, all pointed to a taste which was luxurious to theverge of effeminacy. 

"Seen the Paris news?" asked Lestrade. 

Holmes nodded. 

"Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time. No doubtit's just as they say. She knocked at the door--surprise visit, Iguess, for he kept his life in water-tight compartments--he let her in, couldn't keep her in the street. She told him how she had traced him, reproached him. One thing led to another, and then with that dagger sohandy the end soon came. It wasn't all done in an instant, though, forthese chairs were all swept over yonder, and he had one in his hand asif he had tried to hold her off with it. We've got it all clear as if wehad seen it. "

Holmes raised his eyebrows. 

"And yet you have sent for me?"

"Ah, yes, that's another matter--a mere trifle, but the sort of thingyou take an interest in--queer, you know, and what you might callfreakish. It has nothing to do with the main fact--can't have, on theface of it. "

"What is it, then?"

"Well, you know, after a crime of this sort we are very careful to keepthings in their position. Nothing has been moved. Officer in charge hereday and night. This morning, as the man was buried and the investigationover--so far as this room is concerned--we thought we could tidy upa bit. This carpet. You see, it is not fastened down, only just laidthere. We had occasion to raise it. We found----"

"Yes? You found----"

Holmes's face grew tense with anxiety. 

"Well, I'm sure you would never guess in a hundred years what we didfind. You see that stain on the carpet? Well, a great deal must havesoaked through, must it not?"

"Undoubtedly it must. "

"Well, you will be surprised to hear that there is no stain on the whitewoodwork to correspond. "

"No stain! But there must----"

"Yes, so you would say. But the fact remains that there isn't. "

He took the corner of the carpet in his hand and, turning it over, heshowed that it was indeed as he said. 

"But the under side is as stained as the upper. It must have left amark. "

Lestrade chuckled with delight at having puzzled the famous expert. 

"Now, I'll show you the explanation. There IS a second stain, but itdoes not correspond with the other. See for yourself. " As he spoke heturned over another portion of the carpet, and there, sure enough, wasa great crimson spill upon the square white facing of the old-fashionedfloor. "What do you make of that, Mr. Holmes?"

"Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond, but the carpethas been turned round. As it was square and unfastened it was easilydone. "

"The official police don't need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell them that thecarpet must have been turned round. That's clear enough, for the stainslie above each other--if you lay it over this way. But what I want toknow is, who shifted the carpet, and why?"

I could see from Holmes's rigid face that he was vibrating with inwardexcitement. 

"Look here, Lestrade, " said he, "has that constable in the passage beenin charge of the place all the time?"

"Yes, he has. "

"Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully. Don't do it before us. Well wait here. You take him into the back room. You'll be more likelyto get a confession out of him alone. Ask him how he dared to admitpeople and leave them alone in this room. Don't ask him if he has doneit. Take it for granted. Tell him you KNOW someone has been here. Presshim. Tell him that a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness. Do exactly what I tell you!"

"By George, if he knows I'll have it out of him!" cried Lestrade. Hedarted into the hall, and a few moments later his bullying voice soundedfrom the back room. 

"Now, Watson, now!" cried Holmes with frenzied eagerness. All thedemoniacal force of the man masked behind that listless manner burst outin a paroxysm of energy. He tore the drugget from the floor, and in aninstant was down on his hands and knees clawing at each of the squaresof wood beneath it. One turned sideways as he dug his nails into theedge of it. It hinged back like the lid of a box. A small black cavityopened beneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it and drew it outwith a bitter snarl of anger and disappointment. It was empty. 

"Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!" The wooden lid was replaced, and the drugget had only just been drawn straight when Lestrade's voicewas heard in the passage. He found Holmes leaning languidly againstthe mantelpiece, resigned and patient, endeavouring to conceal hisirrepressible yawns. 

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes, I can see that you are bored todeath with the whole affair. Well, he has confessed, all right. Comein here, MacPherson. Let these gentlemen hear of your most inexcusableconduct. "

The big constable, very hot and penitent, sidled into the room. 

"I meant no harm, sir, I'm sure. The young woman came to the door lastevening--mistook the house, she did. And then we got talking. It'slonesome, when you're on duty here all day. "

"Well, what happened then?"

"She wanted to see where the crime was done--had read about it in thepapers, she said. She was a very respectable, well-spoken young woman, sir, and I saw no harm in letting her have a peep. When she saw thatmark on the carpet, down she dropped on the floor, and lay as if shewere dead. I ran to the back and got some water, but I could not bringher to. Then I went round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and by the time I had brought it back the young woman had recovered andwas off--ashamed of herself, I daresay, and dared not face me. "

"How about moving that drugget?"

"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 itin place. I straightened it out afterwards. "

"It's a lesson to you that you can't deceive me, Constable MacPherson, "said Lestrade, with dignity. "No doubt you thought that your breach ofduty could never be discovered, and yet a mere glance at that druggetwas enough to convince me that someone had been admitted to the room. It's lucky for you, my man, that nothing is missing, or you would findyourself in Queer Street. I'm sorry to have called you down over such apetty business, Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point of the second stainnot corresponding with the first would interest you. "

"Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only been here once, constable?"

"Yes, sir, only once. "

"Who was she?"

"Don't know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement abouttypewriting and came to the wrong number--very pleasant, genteel youngwoman, sir. "

"Tall? Handsome?"

"Yes, sir, she was a well-grown young woman. I suppose you might sayshe was handsome. Perhaps some would say she was very handsome. 'Oh, officer, do let me have a peep!' says she. She had pretty, coaxing ways, as you might say, and I thought there was no harm in letting her justput her head through the door. "

"How was she dressed?"

"Quiet, sir--a long mantle down to her feet. "

"What time was it?"

"It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting the lamps as Icame back with the brandy. "

"Very good, " said Holmes. "Come, Watson, I think that we have moreimportant work elsewhere. "

As we left the house Lestrade remained in the front room, while therepentant constable opened the door to let us out. Holmes turned on thestep and held up something in his hand. The constable stared intently. 

"Good Lord, sir!" he cried, with amazement on his face. Holmes put hisfinger on his lips, replaced his hand in his breast pocket, and burstout laughing as we turned down the street. "Excellent!" said he. "Come, friend Watson, the curtain rings up for the last act. You will berelieved to hear that there will be no war, that the Right HonourableTrelawney Hope will suffer no setback in his brilliant career, that theindiscreet Sovereign will receive no punishment for his indiscretion, that the Prime Minister will have no European complication to dealwith, and that with a little tact and management upon our partnobody will be a penny the worse for what might have been a very uglyincident. "

My mind filled with admiration for this extraordinary man. 

"You have solved it!" I cried. 

"Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as dark as ever. But we have so much that it will be our own fault if we cannot get therest. We will go straight to Whitehall Terrace and bring the matter to ahead. "

When we arrived at the residence of the European Secretary it was forLady Hilda Trelawney Hope that Sherlock Holmes inquired. We were showninto the morning-room. 

"Mr. Holmes!" said the lady, and her face was pink with her indignation. "This is surely most unfair and ungenerous upon your part. I desired, as I have explained, to keep my visit to you a secret, lest my husbandshould think that I was intruding into his affairs. And yet youcompromise me by coming here and so showing that there are businessrelations between us. "

"Unfortunately, madam, I had no possible alternative. I have beencommissioned to recover this immensely important paper. I must thereforeask you, madam, to be kind enough to place it in my hands. "

The lady sprang to her feet, with the colour all dashed in an instantfrom her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed--she tottered--I thought thatshe would faint. Then with a grand effort she rallied from the shock, and a supreme astonishment and indignation chased every other expressionfrom her features. 

"You--you insult me, Mr. Holmes. "

"Come, come, madam, it is useless. Give up the letter. "

She darted to the bell. 

"The butler shall show you out. "

"Do not ring, Lady Hilda. If you do, then all my earnest efforts toavoid a scandal will be frustrated. Give up the letter and all will beset right. If you will work with me I can arrange everything. If youwork against me I must expose you. "

She stood grandly defiant, a queenly figure, her eyes fixed upon his asif she would read his very soul. Her hand was on the bell, but she hadforborne to ring it. 

"You are trying to frighten me. It is not a very manly thing, Mr. Holmes, to come here and browbeat a woman. You say that you knowsomething. What is it that you know?"

"Pray sit down, madam. You will hurt yourself there if you fall. I willnot speak until you sit down. Thank you. "

"I give you five minutes, Mr. Holmes. "

"One is enough, Lady Hilda. I know of your visit to Eduardo Lucas, ofyour giving him this document, of your ingenious return to the roomlast night, and of the manner in which you took the letter from thehiding-place under the carpet. "

She stared at him with an ashen face and gulped twice before she couldspeak. 

"You are mad, Mr. Holmes--you are mad!" she cried, at last. 

He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the face of awoman cut out of a portrait. 

"I have carried this because I thought it might be useful, " said he. "The policeman has recognized it. "

She gave a gasp, and her head dropped back in the chair. 

"Come, Lady Hilda. You have the letter. The matter may still beadjusted. I have no desire to bring trouble to you. My duty ends whenI have returned the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and befrank with me. It is your only chance. "

Her courage was admirable. Even now she would not own defeat. 

"I tell you again, Mr. Holmes, that you are under some absurd illusion. "

Holmes rose from his chair. 

"I am sorry for you, Lady Hilda. I have done my best for you. I can seethat it is all in vain. "

He rang the bell. The butler entered. 

"Is Mr. Trelawney Hope at home?"

"He will be home, sir, at a quarter to one. "

Holmes glanced at his watch. 

"Still a quarter of an hour, " said he. "Very good, I shall wait. "

The butler had hardly closed the door behind him when Lady Hildawas down on her knees at Holmes's feet, her hands outstretched, herbeautiful face upturned and wet with her tears. 

"Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!" she pleaded, in a frenzy ofsupplication. "For heaven's sake, don't tell him! I love him so! I wouldnot bring one shadow on his life, and this I know would break his nobleheart. "

Holmes raised the lady. "I am thankful, madam, that you have come toyour senses even at this last moment! There is not an instant to lose. Where is the letter?"

She darted across to a writing-desk, unlocked it, and drew out a longblue envelope. 

"Here it is, Mr. Holmes. Would to heaven I had never seen it!"

"How can we return it?" Holmes muttered. "Quick, quick, we must think ofsome way! Where is the despatch-box?"

"Still in his bedroom. "

"What a stroke of luck! Quick, madam, bring it here!" A moment later shehad appeared with a red flat box in her hand. 

"How did you open it before? You have a duplicate key? Yes, of courseyou have. Open it!"

From out of her bosom Lady Hilda had drawn a small key. The box flewopen. It was stuffed with papers. Holmes thrust the blue envelope deepdown into the heart of them, between the leaves of some other document. The box was shut, locked, and returned to the bedroom. 

"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 spendthe time in telling me frankly the real meaning of this extraordinaryaffair. "

"Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything, " cried the lady. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, I would cut off my right hand before I gave him a moment ofsorrow! There is no woman in all London who loves her husband as Ido, and yet if he knew how I have acted--how I have been compelled toact--he would never forgive me. For his own honour stands so high thathe could not forget or pardon a lapse in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes!My happiness, his happiness, our very lives are at stake!"

"Quick, madam, the time grows short!"

"It was a letter of mine, Mr. Holmes, an indiscreet letter writtenbefore my marriage--a foolish letter, a letter of an impulsive, lovinggirl. I meant no harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had heread that letter his confidence would have been forever destroyed. Itis years since I wrote it. I had thought that the whole matter wasforgotten. Then at last I heard from this man, Lucas, that it had passedinto his hands, and that he would lay it before my husband. I imploredhis mercy. He said that he would return my letter if I would bring him acertain document which he described in my husband's despatch-box. He hadsome spy in the office who had told him of its existence. He assured methat no harm could come to my husband. Put yourself in my position, Mr. Holmes! What was I to do?"

"Take your husband into your confidence. "

"I could not, Mr. Holmes, I could not! On the one side seemed certainruin, on the other, terrible as it seemed to take my husband's paper, still in a matter of politics I could not understand the consequences, while in a matter of love and trust they were only too clear to me. Idid it, Mr. Holmes! I took an impression of his key. This man, Lucas, furnished a duplicate. I opened his despatch-box, took the paper, andconveyed it to Godolphin Street. "

"What happened there, madam?"

"I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followed him intohis room, leaving the hall door ajar behind me, for I feared to be alonewith the man. I remember that there was a woman outside as I entered. Our business was soon done. He had my letter on his desk, I handed himthe document. He gave me the letter. At this instant there was a soundat the door. There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turnedback the drugget, thrust the document into some hiding-place there, andcovered it over. 

"What happened after that is like some fearful dream. I have a vision ofa dark, frantic face, of a woman's voice, which screamed in French, 'Mywaiting 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 knifegleamed in hers. I rushed from the horrible scene, ran from the house, and only next morning in the paper did I learn the dreadful result. Thatnight I was happy, for I had my letter, and I had not seen yet what thefuture would bring. 

"It was the next morning that I realized that I had only exchanged onetrouble for another. My husband's anguish at the loss of his paper wentto my heart. I could hardly prevent myself from there and then kneelingdown at his feet and telling him what I had done. But that again wouldmean a confession of the past. I came to you that morning in order tounderstand the full enormity of my offence. From the instant that Igrasped it my whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting backmy husband's paper. It must still be where Lucas had placed it, for itwas concealed before this dreadful woman entered the room. If it had notbeen for her coming, I should not have known where his hiding-place was. How was I to get into the room? For two days I watched the place, butthe door was never left open. Last night I made a last attempt. What Idid and how I succeeded, you have already learned. I brought the paperback with me, and thought of destroying it, since I could see no way ofreturning it without confessing my guilt to my husband. Heavens, I hearhis step upon the stair!"

The European Secretary burst excitedly into the room. "Any news, Mr. Holmes, any news?" he cried. 

"I have some hopes. "

"Ah, thank heaven!" His face became radiant. "The Prime Minister islunching with me. May he share your hopes? He has nerves of steel, andyet I know that he has hardly slept since this terrible event. Jacobs, will you ask the Prime Minister to come up? As to you, dear, I fear thatthis is a matter of politics. We will join you in a few minutes in thedining-room. "

The Prime Minister's manner was subdued, but I could see by the gleamof his eyes and the twitchings of his bony hands that he shared theexcitement of his young colleague. 

"I understand that you have something to report, Mr. Holmes?"

"Purely negative as yet, " my friend answered. "I have inquired at everypoint where it might be, and I am sure that there is no danger to beapprehended. "

"But that is not enough, Mr. Holmes. We cannot live forever on such avolcano. We must have something definite. "

"I am in hopes of getting it. That is why I am here. The more I think ofthe matter the more convinced I am that the letter has never left thishouse. "

"Mr. Holmes!"

"If it had it would certainly have been public by now. "

"But why should anyone take it in order to keep it in his house?"

"I am not convinced that anyone did take it. "

"Then how could it leave the despatch-box?"

"I am not convinced that it ever did leave the despatch-box. "

"Mr. Holmes, this joking is very ill-timed. You have my assurance thatit left the box. "

"Have you examined the box since Tuesday morning?"

"No. It was not necessary. "

"You may conceivably have overlooked it. "

"Impossible, I say. "

"But I am not convinced of it. I have known such things to happen. Ipresume there are other papers there. Well, it may have got mixed withthem. "

"It was on the top. "

"Someone may have shaken the box and displaced it. "

"No, no, I had everything out. "

"Surely it is easily decided, Hope, " said the Premier. "Let us have thedespatch-box brought in. "

The Secretary rang the bell. 

"Jacobs, bring down my despatch-box. This is a farcical waste of time, but still, if nothing else will satisfy you, it shall be done. 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 SirCharles Hardy, memorandum from Belgrade, note on the Russo-German graintaxes, letter from Madrid, note from Lord Flowers----Good heavens! whatis this? Lord Bellinger! Lord Bellinger!"

The Premier snatched the blue envelope from his hand. 

"Yes, it is it--and the letter is intact. Hope, I congratulate you. "

"Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from my heart. But this isinconceivable--impossible. Mr. Holmes, you are a wizard, a sorcerer! Howdid you know it was there?"

"Because I knew it was nowhere else. "

"I cannot believe my eyes!" He ran wildly to the door. "Where is mywife? I must tell her that all is well. Hilda! Hilda!" we heard hisvoice on the stairs. 

The Premier looked at Holmes with twinkling eyes. 

"Come, sir, " said he. "There is more in this than meets the eye. Howcame the letter back in the box?"

Holmes turned away smiling from the keen scrutiny of those wonderfuleyes. 

"We also have our diplomatic secrets, " said he and, picking up his hat, he turned to the door. 

THE END