diff --git a/bin/index.js b/bin/index.js index 8f7342d..25d516e 100755 --- a/bin/index.js +++ b/bin/index.js @@ -176,8 +176,8 @@ var { argv } = require('yargs') //Add to the array routesList to generate in index.html routesList.push({ - url: createdFileName.replace(path.normalize(outputPath), '').substr(1).replaceAll(' ', '_'), - name: path.basename(createdFileName, '.html'), + url: createdFileName.replaceAll(' ', '_').replace(path.normalize(outputPath), '').substr(1), + name: path.basename(createdFileName.replaceAll(' ', '_'), '.html'), }); await createIndexHtmlFile(routesList, stylesheet, outputPath); } else { @@ -218,7 +218,7 @@ var { argv } = require('yargs') //Create the html file let createdFileName = await createHtmlFile( - path.basename(noRootFilePath, '.txt'), + path.basename(noRootFilePath, '.txt').replaceAll(' ', '_'), data, stylesheet, path.join(outputPath, path.dirname(noRootFilePath)).replaceAll(' ', '_'), diff --git a/dist/Silver_Blaze.html b/dist/Silver_Blaze.html index e458903..363bc03 100644 --- a/dist/Silver_Blaze.html +++ b/dist/Silver_Blaze.html @@ -3,6 +3,476 @@ +<<<<<<< HEAD + Silver Blaze + + + + + +

Silver Blaze

+

I am afraid, Watson, that I shall have to go,” said Holmes, as wesat down together to our breakfast one morning.

+ +

“Go! Where to?”

+ +

“To Dartmoor; to King’s Pyland.”

+ +

I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had notalready been mixed up in this extraordinary case, which was theone topic of conversation through the length and breadth ofEngland. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the roomwith his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging andrecharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco, andabsolutely deaf to any of my questions or remarks. Fresh editionsof every paper had been sent up by our news agent, only to beglanced over and tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as hewas, I knew perfectly well what it was over which he wasbrooding. There was but one problem before the public which couldchallenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singulardisappearance of the favourite for the Wessex Cup, and the tragicmurder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly announced hisintention of setting out for the scene of the drama it was onlywhat I had both expected and hoped for.

+ +

“I should be most happy to go down with you if I should not be inthe way,” said I.

+ +

“My dear Watson, you would confer a great favour upon me bycoming. And I think that your time will not be misspent, forthere are points about the case which promise to make it anabsolutely unique one. We have, I think, just time to catch ourtrain at Paddington, and I will go further into the matter uponour journey. You would oblige me by bringing with you your veryexcellent field-glass.”

+ +

And so it happened that an hour or so later I found myself in thecorner of a first-class carriage flying along en route forExeter, while Sherlock Holmes, with his sharp, eager face framedin his ear-flapped travelling-cap, dipped rapidly into the bundleof fresh papers which he had procured at Paddington. We had leftReading far behind us before he thrust the last one of them underthe seat, and offered me his cigar-case.

+ +

“We are going well,” said he, looking out the window and glancingat his watch. “Our rate at present is fifty-three and a halfmiles an hour.”

+ +

“I have not observed the quarter-mile posts,” said I.

+ +

“Nor have I. But the telegraph posts upon this line are sixtyyards apart, and the calculation is a simple one. I presume thatyou have looked into this matter of the murder of John Strakerand the disappearance of Silver Blaze?”

+ +

“I have seen what the _Telegraph_ and the _Chronicle_ have tosay.”

+ +

“It is one of those cases where the art of the reasoner should beused rather for the sifting of details than for the acquiring offresh evidence. The tragedy has been so uncommon, so complete andof such personal importance to so many people, that we aresuffering from a plethora of surmise, conjecture, and hypothesis.The difficulty is to detach the framework of fact—of absoluteundeniable fact—from the embellishments of theorists andreporters. Then, having established ourselves upon this soundbasis, it is our duty to see what inferences may be drawn andwhat are the special points upon which the whole mystery turns.On Tuesday evening I received telegrams from both Colonel Ross,the owner of the horse, and from Inspector Gregory, who islooking after the case, inviting my co-operation.”

+ +

“Tuesday evening!” I exclaimed. “And this is Thursday morning.Why didn’t you go down yesterday?”

+ +

“Because I made a blunder, my dear Watson—which is, I am afraid,a more common occurrence than any one would think who only knewme through your memoirs. The fact is that I could not believe itpossible that the most remarkable horse in England could longremain concealed, especially in so sparsely inhabited a place asthe north of Dartmoor. From hour to hour yesterday I expected tohear that he had been found, and that his abductor was themurderer of John Straker. When, however, another morning hadcome, and I found that beyond the arrest of young Fitzroy Simpsonnothing had been done, I felt that it was time for me to takeaction. Yet in some ways I feel that yesterday has not beenwasted.”

+ +

“You have formed a theory, then?”

+ +

“At least I have got a grip of the essential facts of the case. Ishall enumerate them to you, for nothing clears up a case so muchas stating it to another person, and I can hardly expect yourco-operation if I do not show you the position from which westart.”

+ +

I lay back against the cushions, puffing at my cigar, whileHolmes, leaning forward, with his long, thin forefinger checkingoff the points upon the palm of his left hand, gave me a sketchof the events which had led to our journey.

+ +

“Silver Blaze,” said he, “is from the Isonomy stock, and holds asbrilliant a record as his famous ancestor. He is now in his fifthyear, and has brought in turn each of the prizes of the turf toColonel Ross, his fortunate owner. Up to the time of thecatastrophe he was the first favourite for the Wessex Cup, thebetting being three to one on him. He has always, however, been aprime favourite with the racing public, and has never yetdisappointed them, so that even at those odds enormous sums ofmoney have been laid upon him. It is obvious, therefore, thatthere were many people who had the strongest interest inpreventing Silver Blaze from being there at the fall of the flagnext Tuesday.

+ +

“The fact was, of course, appreciated at King’s Pyland, where theColonel’s training-stable is situated. Every precaution was takento guard the favourite. The trainer, John Straker, is a retiredjockey who rode in Colonel Ross’s colours before he became tooheavy for the weighing-chair. He has served the Colonel for fiveyears as jockey and for seven as trainer, and has always shownhimself to be a zealous and honest servant. Under him were threelads; for the establishment was a small one, containing only fourhorses in all. One of these lads sat up each night in the stable,while the others slept in the loft. All three bore excellentcharacters. John Straker, who is a married man, lived in a smallvilla about two hundred yards from the stables. He has nochildren, keeps one maid-servant, and is comfortably off. Thecountry round is very lonely, but about half a mile to the norththere is a small cluster of villas which have been built by aTavistock contractor for the use of invalids and others who maywish to enjoy the pure Dartmoor air. Tavistock itself lies twomiles to the west, while across the moor, also about two milesdistant, is the larger training establishment of Mapleton, whichbelongs to Lord Backwater, and is managed by Silas Brown. Inevery other direction the moor is a complete wilderness,inhabited only by a few roaming gypsies. Such was the generalsituation last Monday night when the catastrophe occurred.

+ +

“On that evening the horses had been exercised and watered asusual, and the stables were locked up at nine o’clock. Two of thelads walked up to the trainer’s house, where they had supper inthe kitchen, while the third, Ned Hunter, remained on guard. At afew minutes after nine the maid, Edith Baxter, carried down tothe stables his supper, which consisted of a dish of curriedmutton. She took no liquid, as there was a water-tap in thestables, and it was the rule that the lad on duty should drinknothing else. The maid carried a lantern with her, as it was verydark and the path ran across the open moor.

+ +

“Edith Baxter was within thirty yards of the stables, when a manappeared out of the darkness and called to her to stop. As hestepped into the circle of yellow light thrown by the lantern shesaw that he was a person of gentlemanly bearing, dressed in agrey suit of tweeds, with a cloth cap. He wore gaiters, andcarried a heavy stick with a knob to it. She was most impressed,however, by the extreme pallor of his face and by the nervousnessof his manner. His age, she thought, would be rather over thirtythan under it.

+ +

“‘Can you tell me where I am?’ he asked. ‘I had almost made up mymind to sleep on the moor, when I saw the light of your lantern.’

+ +

“‘You are close to the King’s Pyland training-stables,’ said she.

+ +

“‘Oh, indeed! What a stroke of luck!’ he cried. ‘I understandthat a stable-boy sleeps there alone every night. Perhaps that ishis supper which you are carrying to him. Now I am sure that youwould not be too proud to earn the price of a new dress, wouldyou?’ He took a piece of white paper folded up out of hiswaistcoat pocket. ‘See that the boy has this to-night, and youshall have the prettiest frock that money can buy.’

+ +

“She was frightened by the earnestness of his manner, and ranpast him to the window through which she was accustomed to handthe meals. It was already opened, and Hunter was seated at thesmall table inside. She had begun to tell him of what hadhappened, when the stranger came up again.

+ +

“‘Good-evening,’ said he, looking through the window. ‘I wantedto have a word with you.’ The girl has sworn that as he spoke shenoticed the corner of the little paper packet protruding from hisclosed hand.

+ +

“‘What business have you here?’ asked the lad.

+ +

“‘It’s business that may put something into your pocket,’ saidthe other. ‘You’ve two horses in for the Wessex Cup—Silver Blazeand Bayard. Let me have the straight tip and you won’t be aloser. Is it a fact that at the weights Bayard could give theother a hundred yards in five furlongs, and that the stable haveput their money on him?’

+ +

“‘So, you’re one of those damned touts!’ cried the lad. ‘I’llshow you how we serve them in King’s Pyland.’ He sprang up andrushed across the stable to unloose the dog. The girl fled awayto the house, but as she ran she looked back and saw that thestranger was leaning through the window. A minute later, however,when Hunter rushed out with the hound he was gone, and though heran all round the buildings he failed to find any trace of him.”

+ +

“One moment,” I asked. “Did the stable-boy, when he ran out withthe dog, leave the door unlocked behind him?”

+ +

“Excellent, Watson, excellent!” murmured my companion. “Theimportance of the point struck me so forcibly that I sent aspecial wire to Dartmoor yesterday to clear the matter up. Theboy locked the door before he left it. The window, I may add, wasnot large enough for a man to get through.

+ +

“Hunter waited until his fellow-grooms had returned, when he senta message to the trainer and told him what had occurred. Strakerwas excited at hearing the account, although he does not seem tohave quite realized its true significance. It left him, however,vaguely uneasy, and Mrs. Straker, waking at one in the morning,found that he was dressing. In reply to her inquiries, he saidthat he could not sleep on account of his anxiety about thehorses, and that he intended to walk down to the stables to seethat all was well. She begged him to remain at home, as she couldhear the rain pattering against the window, but in spite of herentreaties he pulled on his large mackintosh and left the house.

+ +

“Mrs. Straker awoke at seven in the morning, to find that herhusband had not yet returned. She dressed herself hastily, calledthe maid, and set off for the stables. The door was open; inside,huddled together upon a chair, Hunter was sunk in a state ofabsolute stupor, the favourite’s stall was empty, and there wereno signs of his trainer.

+ +

“The two lads who slept in the chaff-cutting loft above theharness-room were quickly aroused. They had heard nothing duringthe night, for they are both sound sleepers. Hunter was obviouslyunder the influence of some powerful drug, and as no sense couldbe got out of him, he was left to sleep it off while the two ladsand the two women ran out in search of the absentees. They stillhad hopes that the trainer had for some reason taken out thehorse for early exercise, but on ascending the knoll near thehouse, from which all the neighbouring moors were visible, theynot only could see no signs of the missing favourite, but theyperceived something which warned them that they were in thepresence of a tragedy.

+ +

“About a quarter of a mile from the stables John Straker’sovercoat was flapping from a furze-bush. Immediately beyond therewas a bowl-shaped depression in the moor, and at the bottom ofthis was found the dead body of the unfortunate trainer. His headhad been shattered by a savage blow from some heavy weapon, andhe was wounded on the thigh, where there was a long, clean cut,inflicted evidently by some very sharp instrument. It was clear,however, that Straker had defended himself vigorously against hisassailants, for in his right hand he held a small knife, whichwas clotted with blood up to the handle, while in his left heclasped a red and black silk cravat, which was recognised by themaid as having been worn on the preceding evening by the strangerwho had visited the stables.

+ +

“Hunter, on recovering from his stupor, was also quite positiveas to the ownership of the cravat. He was equally certain thatthe same stranger had, while standing at the window, drugged hiscurried mutton, and so deprived the stables of their watchman.

+ +

“As to the missing horse, there were abundant proofs in the mudwhich lay at the bottom of the fatal hollow that he had beenthere at the time of the struggle. But from that morning he hasdisappeared, and although a large reward has been offered, andall the gypsies of Dartmoor are on the alert, no news has come ofhim. Finally, an analysis has shown that the remains of hissupper left by the stable-lad contain an appreciable quantity ofpowdered opium, while the people at the house partook of the samedish on the same night without any ill effect.

+ +

“Those are the main facts of the case, stripped of all surmise,and stated as baldly as possible. I shall now recapitulate whatthe police have done in the matter.

+ +

“Inspector Gregory, to whom the case has been committed, is anextremely competent officer. Were he but gifted with imaginationhe might rise to great heights in his profession. On his arrivalhe promptly found and arrested the man upon whom suspicionnaturally rested. There was little difficulty in finding him, forhe inhabited one of those villas which I have mentioned. Hisname, it appears, was Fitzroy Simpson. He was a man of excellentbirth and education, who had squandered a fortune upon the turf,and who lived now by doing a little quiet and genteel book-makingin the sporting clubs of London. An examination of hisbetting-book shows that bets to the amount of five thousandpounds had been registered by him against the favourite.

+ +

“On being arrested he volunteered the statement that he had comedown to Dartmoor in the hope of getting some information aboutthe King’s Pyland horses, and also about Desborough, the secondfavourite, which was in charge of Silas Brown at the Mapletonstables. He did not attempt to deny that he had acted asdescribed upon the evening before, but declared that he had nosinister designs, and had simply wished to obtain first-handinformation. When confronted with his cravat, he turned verypale, and was utterly unable to account for its presence in thehand of the murdered man. His wet clothing showed that he hadbeen out in the storm of the night before, and his stick, whichwas a Penang-lawyer weighted with lead, was just such a weapon asmight, by repeated blows, have inflicted the terrible injuries towhich the trainer had succumbed.

+ +

“On the other hand, there was no wound upon his person, while thestate of Straker’s knife would show that one at least of hisassailants must bear his mark upon him. There you have it all ina nutshell, Watson, and if you can give me any light I shall beinfinitely obliged to you.”

+ +

I had listened with the greatest interest to the statement whichHolmes, with characteristic clearness, had laid before me. Thoughmost of the facts were familiar to me, I had not sufficientlyappreciated their relative importance, nor their connection toeach other.

+ +

“Is it not possible,” I suggested, “that the incised wound uponStraker may have been caused by his own knife in the convulsivestruggles which follow any brain injury?”

+ +

“It is more than possible; it is probable,” said Holmes. “In thatcase one of the main points in favour of the accused disappears.”

+ +

“And yet,” said I, “even now I fail to understand what the theoryof the police can be.”

+ +

“I am afraid that whatever theory we state has very graveobjections to it,” returned my companion. “The police imagine, Itake it, that this Fitzroy Simpson, having drugged the lad, andhaving in some way obtained a duplicate key, opened the stabledoor and took out the horse, with the intention, apparently, ofkidnapping him altogether. His bridle is missing, so that Simpsonmust have put this on. Then, having left the door open behindhim, he was leading the horse away over the moor, when he waseither met or overtaken by the trainer. A row naturally ensued.Simpson beat out the trainer’s brains with his heavy stickwithout receiving any injury from the small knife which Strakerused in self-defence, and then the thief either led the horse onto some secret hiding-place, or else it may have bolted duringthe struggle, and be now wandering out on the moors. That is thecase as it appears to the police, and improbable as it is, allother explanations are more improbable still. However, I shallvery quickly test the matter when I am once upon the spot, anduntil then I cannot really see how we can get much further thanour present position.”

+ +

It was evening before we reached the little town of Tavistock,which lies, like the boss of a shield, in the middle of the hugecircle of Dartmoor. Two gentlemen were awaiting us in thestation—the one a tall, fair man with lion-like hair and beardand curiously penetrating light blue eyes; the other a small,alert person, very neat and dapper, in a frock-coat and gaiters,with trim little side-whiskers and an eye-glass. The latter wasColonel Ross, the well-known sportsman; the other, InspectorGregory, a man who was rapidly making his name in the Englishdetective service.

+ +

“I am delighted that you have come down, Mr. Holmes,” said theColonel. “The Inspector here has done all that could possibly besuggested, but I wish to leave no stone unturned in trying toavenge poor Straker and in recovering my horse.”

+ +

“Have there been any fresh developments?” asked Holmes.

+ +

“I am sorry to say that we have made very little progress,” saidthe Inspector. “We have an open carriage outside, and as youwould no doubt like to see the place before the light fails, wemight talk it over as we drive.”

+ +

A minute later we were all seated in a comfortable landau, andwere rattling through the quaint old Devonshire city. InspectorGregory was full of his case, and poured out a stream of remarks,while Holmes threw in an occasional question or interjection.Colonel Ross leaned back with his arms folded and his hat tiltedover his eyes, while I listened with interest to the dialogue ofthe two detectives. Gregory was formulating his theory, which wasalmost exactly what Holmes had foretold in the train.

+ +

“The net is drawn pretty close round Fitzroy Simpson,” heremarked, “and I believe myself that he is our man. At the sametime I recognise that the evidence is purely circumstantial, andthat some new development may upset it.”

+ +

“How about Straker’s knife?”

+ +

“We have quite come to the conclusion that he wounded himself inhis fall.”

+ +

“My friend Dr. Watson made that suggestion to me as we came down.If so, it would tell against this man Simpson.”

+ +

“Undoubtedly. He has neither a knife nor any sign of a wound. Theevidence against him is certainly very strong. He had a greatinterest in the disappearance of the favourite. He lies undersuspicion of having poisoned the stable-boy, he was undoubtedlyout in the storm, he was armed with a heavy stick, and his cravatwas found in the dead man’s hand. I really think we have enoughto go before a jury.”

+ +

Holmes shook his head. “A clever counsel would tear it all torags,” said he. “Why should he take the horse out of the stable?If he wished to injure it why could he not do it there? Has aduplicate key been found in his possession? What chemist sold himthe powdered opium? Above all, where could he, a stranger to thedistrict, hide a horse, and such a horse as this? What is his ownexplanation as to the paper which he wished the maid to give tothe stable-boy?”

+ +

“He says that it was a ten-pound note. One was found in hispurse. But your other difficulties are not so formidable as theyseem. He is not a stranger to the district. He has twice lodgedat Tavistock in the summer. The opium was probably brought fromLondon. The key, having served its purpose, would be hurled away.The horse may be at the bottom of one of the pits or old minesupon the moor.”

+ +

“What does he say about the cravat?”

+ +

“He acknowledges that it is his, and declares that he had lostit. But a new element has been introduced into the case which mayaccount for his leading the horse from the stable.”

+ +

Holmes pricked up his ears.

+ +

“We have found traces which show that a party of gypsies encampedon Monday night within a mile of the spot where the murder tookplace. On Tuesday they were gone. Now, presuming that there wassome understanding between Simpson and these gypsies, might henot have been leading the horse to them when he was overtaken,and may they not have him now?”

+ +

“It is certainly possible.”

+ +

“The moor is being scoured for these gypsies. I have alsoexamined every stable and out-house in Tavistock, and for aradius of ten miles.”

+ +

“There is another training-stable quite close, I understand?”

+ +

“Yes, and that is a factor which we must certainly not neglect.As Desborough, their horse, was second in the betting, they hadan interest in the disappearance of the favourite. Silas Brown,the trainer, is known to have had large bets upon the event, andhe was no friend to poor Straker. We have, however, examined thestables, and there is nothing to connect him with the affair.”

+ +

“And nothing to connect this man Simpson with the interests ofthe Mapleton stables?”

+ +

“Nothing at all.”

+ +

Holmes leaned back in the carriage, and the conversation ceased.A few minutes later our driver pulled up at a neat littlered-brick villa with overhanging eaves which stood by the road.Some distance off, across a paddock, lay a long grey-tiledout-building. In every other direction the low curves of themoor, bronze-coloured from the fading ferns, stretched away tothe sky-line, broken only by the steeples of Tavistock, and by acluster of houses away to the westward which marked the Mapletonstables. We all sprang out with the exception of Holmes, whocontinued to lean back with his eyes fixed upon the sky in frontof him, entirely absorbed in his own thoughts. It was only when Itouched his arm that he roused himself with a violent start andstepped out of the carriage.

+ +

“Excuse me,” said he, turning to Colonel Ross, who had looked athim in some surprise. “I was day-dreaming.” There was a gleam inhis eyes and a suppressed excitement in his manner whichconvinced me, used as I was to his ways, that his hand was upon aclue, though I could not imagine where he had found it.

+ +

“Perhaps you would prefer at once to go on to the scene of thecrime, Mr. Holmes?” said Gregory.

+ +

“I think that I should prefer to stay here a little and go intoone or two questions of detail. Straker was brought back here, Ipresume?”

+ +

“Yes; he lies upstairs. The inquest is to-morrow.”

+ +

“He has been in your service some years, Colonel Ross?”

+ +

“I have always found him an excellent servant.”

+ +

“I presume that you made an inventory of what he had in hispockets at the time of his death, Inspector?”

+ +

“I have the things themselves in the sitting-room, if you wouldcare to see them.”

+ +

“I should be very glad.” We all filed into the front room and satround the central table while the Inspector unlocked a square tinbox and laid a small heap of things before us. There was a box ofvestas, two inches of tallow candle, an A.D.P. briar-root pipe, apouch of seal-skin with half an ounce of long-cut Cavendish, asilver watch with a gold chain, five sovereigns in gold, analuminium pencil-case, a few papers, and an ivory-handled knifewith a very delicate, inflexible blade marked Weiss & Co.,London.

+ +

“This is a very singular knife,” said Holmes, lifting it up andexamining it minutely. “I presume, as I see blood-stains upon it,that it is the one which was found in the dead man’s grasp.Watson, this knife is surely in your line?”

+ +

“It is what we call a cataract knife,” said I.

+ +

“I thought so. A very delicate blade devised for very delicatework. A strange thing for a man to carry with him upon a roughexpedition, especially as it would not shut in his pocket.”

+ +

“The tip was guarded by a disk of cork which we found beside hisbody,” said the Inspector. “His wife tells us that the knife hadlain upon the dressing-table, and that he had picked it up as heleft the room. It was a poor weapon, but perhaps the best that hecould lay his hands on at the moment.”

+ +

“Very possible. How about these papers?”

+ +

“Three of them are receipted hay-dealers’ accounts. One of themis a letter of instructions from Colonel Ross. This other is amilliner’s account for thirty-seven pounds fifteen made out byMadame Lesurier, of Bond Street, to William Derbyshire. Mrs.Straker tells us that Derbyshire was a friend of her husband’sand that occasionally his letters were addressed here.”

+ +

“Madam Derbyshire had somewhat expensive tastes,” remarkedHolmes, glancing down the account. “Twenty-two guineas is ratherheavy for a single costume. However there appears to be nothingmore to learn, and we may now go down to the scene of the crime.”

+ +

As we emerged from the sitting-room a woman, who had been waitingin the passage, took a step forward and laid her hand upon theInspector’s sleeve. Her face was haggard and thin and eager,stamped with the print of a recent horror.

+ +

“Have you got them? Have you found them?” she panted.

+ +

“No, Mrs. Straker. But Mr. Holmes here has come from London tohelp us, and we shall do all that is possible.”

+ +

“Surely I met you in Plymouth at a garden-party some little timeago, Mrs. Straker?” said Holmes.

+ +

“No, sir; you are mistaken.”

+ +

“Dear me! Why, I could have sworn to it. You wore a costume ofdove-coloured silk with ostrich-feather trimming.”

+ +

“I never had such a dress, sir,” answered the lady.

+ +

“Ah, that quite settles it,” said Holmes. And with an apology hefollowed the Inspector outside. A short walk across the moor tookus to the hollow in which the body had been found. At the brinkof it was the furze-bush upon which the coat had been hung.

+ +

“There was no wind that night, I understand,” said Holmes.

+ +

“None; but very heavy rain.”

+ +

“In that case the overcoat was not blown against the furze-bush,but placed there.”

+ +

“Yes, it was laid across the bush.”

+ +

“You fill me with interest, I perceive that the ground has beentrampled up a good deal. No doubt many feet have been here sinceMonday night.”

+ +

“A piece of matting has been laid here at the side, and we haveall stood upon that.”

+ +

“Excellent.”

+ +

“In this bag I have one of the boots which Straker wore, one ofFitzroy Simpson’s shoes, and a cast horseshoe of Silver Blaze.”

+ +

“My dear Inspector, you surpass yourself!” Holmes took the bag,and, descending into the hollow, he pushed the matting into amore central position. Then stretching himself upon his face andleaning his chin upon his hands, he made a careful study of thetrampled mud in front of him. “Hullo!” said he, suddenly. “What’sthis?” It was a wax vesta half burned, which was so coated withmud that it looked at first like a little chip of wood.

+ +

“I cannot think how I came to overlook it,” said the Inspector,with an expression of annoyance.

+ +

“It was invisible, buried in the mud. I only saw it because I waslooking for it.”

+ +

“What! You expected to find it?”

+ +

“I thought it not unlikely.”

+ +

He took the boots from the bag, and compared the impressions ofeach of them with marks upon the ground. Then he clambered up tothe rim of the hollow, and crawled about among the ferns andbushes.

+ +

“I am afraid that there are no more tracks,” said the Inspector.“I have examined the ground very carefully for a hundred yards ineach direction.”

+ +

“Indeed!” said Holmes, rising. “I should not have theimpertinence to do it again after what you say. But I should liketo take a little walk over the moor before it grows dark, that Imay know my ground to-morrow, and I think that I shall put thishorseshoe into my pocket for luck.”

+ +

Colonel Ross, who had shown some signs of impatience at mycompanion’s quiet and systematic method of work, glanced at hiswatch. “I wish you would come back with me, Inspector,” said he.“There are several points on which I should like your advice, andespecially as to whether we do not owe it to the public to removeour horse’s name from the entries for the Cup.”

+ +

“Certainly not,” cried Holmes, with decision. “I should let thename stand.”

+ +

The Colonel bowed. “I am very glad to have had your opinion,sir,” said he. “You will find us at poor Straker’s house when youhave finished your walk, and we can drive together intoTavistock.”

+ +

He turned back with the Inspector, while Holmes and I walkedslowly across the moor. The sun was beginning to sink behind thestables of Mapleton, and the long, sloping plain in front of uswas tinged with gold, deepening into rich, ruddy browns where thefaded ferns and brambles caught the evening light. But theglories of the landscape were all wasted upon my companion, whowas sunk in the deepest thought.

+ +

“It’s this way, Watson,” said he at last. “We may leave thequestion of who killed John Straker for the instant, and confineourselves to finding out what has become of the horse. Now,supposing that he broke away during or after the tragedy, wherecould he have gone to? The horse is a very gregarious creature.If left to himself his instincts would have been either to returnto King’s Pyland or go over to Mapleton. Why should he run wildupon the moor? He would surely have been seen by now. And whyshould gypsies kidnap him? These people always clear out whenthey hear of trouble, for they do not wish to be pestered by thepolice. They could not hope to sell such a horse. They would runa great risk and gain nothing by taking him. Surely that isclear.”

+ +

“Where is he, then?”

+ +

“I have already said that he must have gone to King’s Pyland orto Mapleton. He is not at King’s Pyland. Therefore he is atMapleton. Let us take that as a working hypothesis and see whatit leads us to. This part of the moor, as the Inspector remarked,is very hard and dry. But it falls away towards Mapleton, and youcan see from here that there is a long hollow over yonder, whichmust have been very wet on Monday night. If our supposition iscorrect, then the horse must have crossed that, and there is thepoint where we should look for his tracks.”

+ +

We had been walking briskly during this conversation, and a fewmore minutes brought us to the hollow in question. At Holmes’request I walked down the bank to the right, and he to the left,but I had not taken fifty paces before I heard him give a shout,and saw him waving his hand to me. The track of a horse wasplainly outlined in the soft earth in front of him, and the shoewhich he took from his pocket exactly fitted the impression.

+ +

“See the value of imagination,” said Holmes. “It is the onequality which Gregory lacks. We imagined what might havehappened, acted upon the supposition, and find ourselvesjustified. Let us proceed.”

+ +

We crossed the marshy bottom and passed over a quarter of a mileof dry, hard turf. Again the ground sloped, and again we came onthe tracks. Then we lost them for half a mile, but only to pickthem up once more quite close to Mapleton. It was Holmes who sawthem first, and he stood pointing with a look of triumph upon hisface. A man’s track was visible beside the horse’s.

+ +

“The horse was alone before,” I cried.

+ +

“Quite so. It was alone before. Hullo, what is this?”

+ +

The double track turned sharp off and took the direction ofKing’s Pyland. Holmes whistled, and we both followed along afterit. His eyes were on the trail, but I happened to look a littleto one side, and saw to my surprise the same tracks coming backagain in the opposite direction.

+ +

“One for you, Watson,” said Holmes, when I pointed it out. “Youhave saved us a long walk, which would have brought us back onour own traces. Let us follow the return track.”

+ +

We had not to go far. It ended at the paving of asphalt which ledup to the gates of the Mapleton stables. As we approached, agroom ran out from them.

+ +

“We don’t want any loiterers about here,” said he.

+ +

“I only wished to ask a question,” said Holmes, with his fingerand thumb in his waistcoat pocket. “Should I be too early to seeyour master, Mr. Silas Brown, if I were to call at five o’clockto-morrow morning?”

+ +

“Bless you, sir, if any one is about he will be, for he is alwaysthe first stirring. But here he is, sir, to answer your questionsfor himself. No, sir, no; it is as much as my place is worth tolet him see me touch your money. Afterwards, if you like.”

+ +

As Sherlock Holmes replaced the half-crown which he had drawnfrom his pocket, a fierce-looking elderly man strode out from thegate with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand.

+ +

“What’s this, Dawson!” he cried. “No gossiping! Go about yourbusiness! And you, what the devil do you want here?”

+ +

“Ten minutes’ talk with you, my good sir,” said Holmes in thesweetest of voices.

+ +

“I’ve no time to talk to every gadabout. We want no strangershere. Be off, or you may find a dog at your heels.”

+ +

Holmes leaned forward and whispered something in the trainer’sear. He started violently and flushed to the temples.

+ +

“It’s a lie!” he shouted, “an infernal lie!”

+ +

“Very good. Shall we argue about it here in public or talk itover in your parlour?”

+ +

“Oh, come in if you wish to.”

+ +

Holmes smiled. “I shall not keep you more than a few minutes,Watson,” said he. “Now, Mr. Brown, I am quite at your disposal.”

+ +

It was twenty minutes, and the reds had all faded into greysbefore Holmes and the trainer reappeared. Never have I seen sucha change as had been brought about in Silas Brown in that shorttime. His face was ashy pale, beads of perspiration shone uponhis brow, and his hands shook until the hunting-crop wagged likea branch in the wind. His bullying, overbearing manner was allgone too, and he cringed along at my companion’s side like a dogwith its master.

+ +

“Your instructions will be done. It shall all be done,” said he.

+ +

“There must be no mistake,” said Holmes, looking round at him.The other winced as he read the menace in his eyes.

+ +

“Oh no, there shall be no mistake. It shall be there. Should Ichange it first or not?”

+ +

Holmes thought a little and then burst out laughing. “No, don’t,”said he; “I shall write to you about it. No tricks, now, or—”

+ +

“Oh, you can trust me, you can trust me!”

+ +

“Yes, I think I can. Well, you shall hear from me to-morrow.” Heturned upon his heel, disregarding the trembling hand which theother held out to him, and we set off for King’s Pyland.

+ +

“A more perfect compound of the bully, coward, and sneak thanMaster Silas Brown I have seldom met with,” remarked Holmes as wetrudged along together.

+ +

“He has the horse, then?”

+ +

“He tried to bluster out of it, but I described to him so exactlywhat his actions had been upon that morning that he is convincedthat I was watching him. Of course you observed the peculiarlysquare toes in the impressions, and that his own boots exactlycorresponded to them. Again, of course no subordinate would havedared to do such a thing. I described to him how, when accordingto his custom he was the first down, he perceived a strange horsewandering over the moor. How he went out to it, and hisastonishment at recognising, from the white forehead which hasgiven the favourite its name, that chance had put in his powerthe only horse which could beat the one upon which he had put hismoney. Then I described how his first impulse had been to leadhim back to King’s Pyland, and how the devil had shown him how hecould hide the horse until the race was over, and how he had ledit back and concealed it at Mapleton. When I told him everydetail he gave it up and thought only of saving his own skin.”

+ +

“But his stables had been searched?”

+ +

“Oh, an old horse-faker like him has many a dodge.”

+ +

“But are you not afraid to leave the horse in his power now,since he has every interest in injuring it?”

+ +

“My dear fellow, he will guard it as the apple of his eye. Heknows that his only hope of mercy is to produce it safe.”

+ +

“Colonel Ross did not impress me as a man who would be likely toshow much mercy in any case.”

+ +

“The matter does not rest with Colonel Ross. I follow my ownmethods, and tell as much or as little as I choose. That is theadvantage of being unofficial. I don’t know whether you observedit, Watson, but the Colonel’s manner has been just a triflecavalier to me. I am inclined now to have a little amusement athis expense. Say nothing to him about the horse.”

+ +

“Certainly not without your permission.”

+ +

“And of course this is all quite a minor point compared to thequestion of who killed John Straker.”

+ +

“And you will devote yourself to that?”

+ +

“On the contrary, we both go back to London by the night train.”

+ +

I was thunderstruck by my friend’s words. We had only been a fewhours in Devonshire, and that he should give up an investigationwhich he had begun so brilliantly was quite incomprehensible tome. Not a word more could I draw from him until we were back atthe trainer’s house. The Colonel and the Inspector were awaitingus in the parlour.

+ +

“My friend and I return to town by the night-express,” saidHolmes. “We have had a charming little breath of your beautifulDartmoor air.”

+ +

The Inspector opened his eyes, and the Colonel’s lip curled in asneer.

+ +

“So you despair of arresting the murderer of poor Straker,” saidhe.

+ +

Holmes shrugged his shoulders. “There are certainly gravedifficulties in the way,” said he. “I have every hope, however,that your horse will start upon Tuesday, and I beg that you willhave your jockey in readiness. Might I ask for a photograph ofMr. John Straker?”

+ +

The Inspector took one from an envelope and handed it to him.

+ +

“My dear Gregory, you anticipate all my wants. If I might ask youto wait here for an instant, I have a question which I shouldlike to put to the maid.”

+ +

“I must say that I am rather disappointed in our Londonconsultant,” said Colonel Ross, bluntly, as my friend left theroom. “I do not see that we are any further than when he came.”

+ +

“At least you have his assurance that your horse will run,” saidI.

+ +

“Yes, I have his assurance,” said the Colonel, with a shrug ofhis shoulders. “I should prefer to have the horse.”

+ +

I was about to make some reply in defence of my friend when heentered the room again.

+ +

“Now, gentlemen,” said he, “I am quite ready for Tavistock.”

+ +

As we stepped into the carriage one of the stable-lads held thedoor open for us. A sudden idea seemed to occur to Holmes, for heleaned forward and touched the lad upon the sleeve.

+ +

“You have a few sheep in the paddock,” he said. “Who attends tothem?”

+ +

“I do, sir.”

+ +

“Have you noticed anything amiss with them of late?”

+ +

“Well, sir, not of much account; but three of them have gonelame, sir.”

+ +

I could see that Holmes was extremely pleased, for he chuckledand rubbed his hands together.

+ +

“A long shot, Watson; a very long shot,” said he, pinching myarm. “Gregory, let me recommend to your attention this singularepidemic among the sheep. Drive on, coachman!”

+ +

Colonel Ross still wore an expression which showed the pooropinion which he had formed of my companion’s ability, but I sawby the Inspector’s face that his attention had been keenlyaroused.

+ +

“You consider that to be important?” he asked.

+ +

“Exceedingly so.”

+ +

“Is there any point to which you would wish to draw myattention?”

+ +

“To the curious incident of the dog in the night-time.”

+ +

“The dog did nothing in the night-time.”

+ +

“That was the curious incident,” remarked Sherlock Holmes.

+ +

Four days later Holmes and I were again in the train, bound forWinchester to see the race for the Wessex Cup. Colonel Ross metus by appointment outside the station, and we drove in his dragto the course beyond the town. His face was grave, and his mannerwas cold in the extreme.

+ +

“I have seen nothing of my horse,” said he.

+ +

“I suppose that you would know him when you saw him?” askedHolmes.

+ +

The Colonel was very angry. “I have been on the turf for twentyyears, and never was asked such a question as that before,” saidhe. “A child would know Silver Blaze, with his white forehead andhis mottled off-foreleg.”

+ +

“How is the betting?”

+ +

“Well, that is the curious part of it. You could have got fifteento one yesterday, but the price has become shorter and shorter,until you can hardly get three to one now.”

+ +

“Hum!” said Holmes. “Somebody knows something, that is clear.”

+ +

As the drag drew up in the enclosure near the grand stand Iglanced at the card to see the entries. It ran:—

+ +

Wessex Plate. 50 sovs each h ft with 1000 sovs added for four andfive year olds. Second, £300. Third, £200. New course (one mileand five furlongs).1. Mr. Heath Newton’s The Negro (red cap, cinnamon jacket).2. Colonel Wardlaw’s Pugilist (pink cap, blue and black jacket).3. Lord Backwater’s Desborough (yellow cap and sleeves).4. Colonel Ross’s Silver Blaze (black cap, red jacket).5. Duke of Balmoral’s Iris (yellow and black stripes).6. Lord Singleford’s Rasper (purple cap, black sleeves).

+ +

“We scratched our other one, and put all hopes on your word,”said the Colonel. “Why, what is that? Silver Blaze favourite?”

+ +

“Five to four against Silver Blaze!” roared the ring. “Five tofour against Silver Blaze! Five to fifteen against Desborough!Five to four on the field!”

+ +

“There are the numbers up,” I cried. “They are all six there.”

+ +

“All six there? Then my horse is running,” cried the Colonel ingreat agitation. “But I don’t see him. My colours have notpassed.”

+ +

“Only five have passed. This must be he.”

+ +

As I spoke a powerful bay horse swept out from the weighingenclosure and cantered past us, bearing on its back thewell-known black and red of the Colonel.

+ +

“That’s not my horse,” cried the owner. “That beast has not awhite hair upon its body. What is this that you have done, Mr.Holmes?”

+ +

“Well, well, let us see how he gets on,” said my friend,imperturbably. For a few minutes he gazed through my field-glass.“Capital! An excellent start!” he cried suddenly. “There theyare, coming round the curve!”

+ +

From our drag we had a superb view as they came up the straight.The six horses were so close together that a carpet could havecovered them, but half way up the yellow of the Mapleton stableshowed to the front. Before they reached us, however,Desborough’s bolt was shot, and the Colonel’s horse, coming awaywith a rush, passed the post a good six lengths before its rival,the Duke of Balmoral’s Iris making a bad third.

+ +

“It’s my race, anyhow,” gasped the Colonel, passing his hand overhis eyes. “I confess that I can make neither head nor tail of it.Don’t you think that you have kept up your mystery long enough,Mr. Holmes?”

+ +

“Certainly, Colonel, you shall know everything. Let us all goround and have a look at the horse together. Here he is,” hecontinued, as we made our way into the weighing enclosure, whereonly owners and their friends find admittance. “You have only towash his face and his leg in spirits of wine, and you will findthat he is the same old Silver Blaze as ever.”

+ +

“You take my breath away!”

+ +

“I found him in the hands of a faker, and took the liberty ofrunning him just as he was sent over.”

+ +

“My dear sir, you have done wonders. The horse looks very fit andwell. It never went better in its life. I owe you a thousandapologies for having doubted your ability. You have done me agreat service by recovering my horse. You would do me a greaterstill if you could lay your hands on the murderer of JohnStraker.”

+ +

“I have done so,” said Holmes quietly.

+ +

The Colonel and I stared at him in amazement. “You have got him!Where is he, then?”

+ +

“He is here.”

+ +

“Here! Where?”

+ +

“In my company at the present moment.”

+ +

The Colonel flushed angrily. “I quite recognise that I am underobligations to you, Mr. Holmes,” said he, “but I must regard whatyou have just said as either a very bad joke or an insult.”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes laughed. “I assure you that I have not associatedyou with the crime, Colonel,” said he. “The real murderer isstanding immediately behind you.” He stepped past and laid hishand upon the glossy neck of the thoroughbred.

+ +

“The horse!” cried both the Colonel and myself.

+ +

“Yes, the horse. And it may lessen his guilt if I say that it wasdone in self-defence, and that John Straker was a man who wasentirely unworthy of your confidence. But there goes the bell,and as I stand to win a little on this next race, I shall defer alengthy explanation until a more fitting time.”

+ +

We had the corner of a Pullman car to ourselves that evening aswe whirled back to London, and I fancy that the journey was ashort one to Colonel Ross as well as to myself, as we listened toour companion’s narrative of the events which had occurred at theDartmoor training-stables upon the Monday night, and the means bywhich he had unravelled them.

+ +

“I confess,” said he, “that any theories which I had formed fromthe newspaper reports were entirely erroneous. And yet there wereindications there, had they not been overlaid by other detailswhich concealed their true import. I went to Devonshire with theconviction that Fitzroy Simpson was the true culprit, although,of course, I saw that the evidence against him was by no meanscomplete. It was while I was in the carriage, just as we reachedthe trainer’s house, that the immense significance of the curriedmutton occurred to me. You may remember that I was distrait, andremained sitting after you had all alighted. I was marvelling inmy own mind how I could possibly have overlooked so obvious aclue.”

+ +

“I confess,” said the Colonel, “that even now I cannot see how ithelps us.”

+ +

“It was the first link in my chain of reasoning. Powdered opiumis by no means tasteless. The flavour is not disagreeable, but itis perceptible. Were it mixed with any ordinary dish the eaterwould undoubtedly detect it, and would probably eat no more. Acurry was exactly the medium which would disguise this taste. Byno possible supposition could this stranger, Fitzroy Simpson,have caused curry to be served in the trainer’s family thatnight, and it is surely too monstrous a coincidence to supposethat he happened to come along with powdered opium upon the verynight when a dish happened to be served which would disguise theflavour. That is unthinkable. Therefore Simpson becomeseliminated from the case, and our attention centres upon Strakerand his wife, the only two people who could have chosen curriedmutton for supper that night. The opium was added after the dishwas set aside for the stable-boy, for the others had the same forsupper with no ill effects. Which of them, then, had access tothat dish without the maid seeing them?

+ +

“Before deciding that question I had grasped the significance ofthe silence of the dog, for one true inference invariablysuggests others. The Simpson incident had shown me that a dog waskept in the stables, and yet, though some one had been in and hadfetched out a horse, he had not barked enough to arouse the twolads in the loft. Obviously the midnight visitor was some onewhom the dog knew well.

+ +

“I was already convinced, or almost convinced, that John Strakerwent down to the stables in the dead of the night and took outSilver Blaze. For what purpose? For a dishonest one, obviously,or why should he drug his own stable-boy? And yet I was at a lossto know why. There have been cases before now where trainers havemade sure of great sums of money by laying against their ownhorses, through agents, and then preventing them from winning byfraud. Sometimes it is a pulling jockey. Sometimes it is somesurer and subtler means. What was it here? I hoped that thecontents of his pockets might help me to form a conclusion.

+ +

“And they did so. You cannot have forgotten the singular knifewhich was found in the dead man’s hand, a knife which certainlyno sane man would choose for a weapon. It was, as Dr. Watson toldus, a form of knife which is used for the most delicateoperations known in surgery. And it was to be used for a delicateoperation that night. You must know, with your wide experience ofturf matters, Colonel Ross, that it is possible to make a slightnick upon the tendons of a horse’s ham, and to do itsubcutaneously, so as to leave absolutely no trace. A horse sotreated would develop a slight lameness, which would be put downto a strain in exercise or a touch of rheumatism, but never tofoul play.”

+ +

“Villain! Scoundrel!” cried the Colonel.

+ +

“We have here the explanation of why John Straker wished to takethe horse out on to the moor. So spirited a creature would havecertainly roused the soundest of sleepers when it felt the prickof the knife. It was absolutely necessary to do it in the openair.”

+ +

“I have been blind!” cried the Colonel. “Of course that was whyhe needed the candle, and struck the match.”

+ +

“Undoubtedly. But in examining his belongings I was fortunateenough to discover not only the method of the crime, but even itsmotives. As a man of the world, Colonel, you know that men do notcarry other people’s bills about in their pockets. We have mostof us quite enough to do to settle our own. I at once concludedthat Straker was leading a double life, and keeping a secondestablishment. The nature of the bill showed that there was alady in the case, and one who had expensive tastes. Liberal asyou are with your servants, one can hardly expect that they canbuy twenty-guinea walking dresses for their ladies. I questionedMrs. Straker as to the dress without her knowing it, and havingsatisfied myself that it had never reached her, I made a note ofthe milliner’s address, and felt that by calling there withStraker’s photograph I could easily dispose of the mythicalDerbyshire.

+ +

“From that time on all was plain. Straker had led out the horseto a hollow where his light would be invisible. Simpson in hisflight had dropped his cravat, and Straker had picked it up—withsome idea, perhaps, that he might use it in securing the horse’sleg. Once in the hollow, he had got behind the horse and hadstruck a light; but the creature frightened at the sudden glare,and with the strange instinct of animals feeling that somemischief was intended, had lashed out, and the steel shoe hadstruck Straker full on the forehead. He had already, in spite ofthe rain, taken off his overcoat in order to do his delicatetask, and so, as he fell, his knife gashed his thigh. Do I makeit clear?”

+ +

“Wonderful!” cried the Colonel. “Wonderful! You might have beenthere!”

+ +

“My final shot was, I confess a very long one. It struck me thatso astute a man as Straker would not undertake this delicatetendon-nicking without a little practice. What could he practiceon? My eyes fell upon the sheep, and I asked a question which,rather to my surprise, showed that my surmise was correct.

+ +

“When I returned to London I called upon the milliner, who hadrecognised Straker as an excellent customer of the name ofDerbyshire, who had a very dashing wife, with a strong partialityfor expensive dresses. I have no doubt that this woman hadplunged him over head and ears in debt, and so led him into thismiserable plot.”

+ +

“You have explained all but one thing,” cried the Colonel. “Wherewas the horse?”

+ +

“Ah, it bolted, and was cared for by one of your neighbours. Wemust have an amnesty in that direction, I think. This is ClaphamJunction, if I am not mistaken, and we shall be in Victoria inless than ten minutes. If you care to smoke a cigar in our rooms,Colonel, I shall be happy to give you any other details whichmight interest you.”

+======= Silver_Blaze @@ -534,6 +1004,7 @@

Silver_Blaze

“You_have_explained_all_but_one_thing,”_cried_the_Colonel._“Wherewas_the_horse?”

“Ah,_it_bolted,_and_was_cared_for_by_one_of_your_neighbours._Wemust_have_an_amnesty_in_that_direction,_I_think._This_is_ClaphamJunction,_if_I_am_not_mistaken,_and_we_shall_be_in_Victoria_inless_than_ten_minutes._If_you_care_to_smoke_a_cigar_in_our_rooms,Colonel,_I_shall_be_happy_to_give_you_any_other_details_whichmight_interest_you.”

+>>>>>>> 5092fc77a613991eb73dad800f2cb3d6697ccacc diff --git a/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Six_Napoleans.html b/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Six_Napoleans.html index 8cd09bc..d2d3bb8 100644 --- a/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Six_Napoleans.html +++ b/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Six_Napoleans.html @@ -3,6 +3,314 @@ +<<<<<<< HEAD + THE ADVENTURE OF THE SIX NAPOLEONS + + + + + +

THE ADVENTURE OF THE SIX NAPOLEONS

+

It was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard,to look in upon us of an evening, and his visits were welcome toSherlock Holmes, for they enabled him to keep in touch with allthat was going on at the police headquarters. In return for thenews which Lestrade would bring, Holmes was always ready tolisten with attention to the details of any case upon which thedetective was engaged, and was able occasionally, without anyactive interference, to give some hint or suggestion drawn fromhis own vast knowledge and experience.

+ +

On this particular evening, Lestrade had spoken of the weatherand the newspapers. Then he had fallen silent, puffingthoughtfully at his cigar. 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 my mind. And yet it is such an absurd business, thatI hesitated to bother you about it. On the other hand, althoughit is trivial, it is undoubtedly queer, and I know that you havea taste for all that is out of the common. But, in my opinion, itcomes more in Dr. Watson’s line than ours.”

+ +

“Disease?” said I.

+ +

“Madness, anyhow. And a queer madness, too. You wouldn’t thinkthere was anyone living at this time of day who had such a hatredof Napoleon the First that he would break any image of him thathe 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 commitsburglary in order to break images which are not his own, thatbrings it away from the 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 memoryfrom its pages.

+ +

“The first case reported was four days ago,” said he. “It was atthe shop of Morse Hudson, who has a place for the sale ofpictures and statues in the Kennington Road. The assistant hadleft the front shop for an instant, when he heard a crash, andhurrying in he found a plaster bust of Napoleon, which stood withseveral other works of art upon the counter, lying shivered intofragments. He rushed out into the road, but, although severalpassers-by declared that they had noticed a man run out of theshop, he could neither see anyone nor could he find any means ofidentifying the rascal. It seemed to be one of those senselessacts of hooliganism which occur from time to time, and it wasreported to the constable on the beat as such. The plaster castwas not worth more than a few shillings, and the whole affairappeared to be too childish for any particular investigation.

+ +

“The second case, however, was more serious, and also moresingular. It occurred only last night.

+ +

“In Kennington Road, and within a few hundred yards of MorseHudson’s shop, there lives a well-known medical practitioner,named Dr. Barnicot, who has one of the largest practices upon thesouth side of the Thames. His residence and principalconsulting-room is at Kennington Road, but he has a branchsurgery and dispensary at Lower Brixton Road, two miles away.This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic admirer of Napoleon, and hishouse is full of books, pictures, and relics of the FrenchEmperor. Some little time ago he purchased from Morse Hudson twoduplicate plaster casts of the famous head of Napoleon by theFrench sculptor, Devine. One of these he placed in his hall inthe house at Kennington Road, and the other on the mantelpiece ofthe surgery at Lower Brixton. Well, when Dr. Barnicot came downthis morning he was astonished to find that his house had beenburgled during the night, but that nothing had been taken savethe plaster head from the hall. It had been carried out and hadbeen dashed savagely against the garden wall, under which itssplintered fragments 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 endyet. Dr. Barnicot was due at his surgery at twelve o’clock, andyou can imagine his amazement when, on arriving there, he foundthat the window had been opened in the night and that the brokenpieces of his second bust were strewn all over the room. It hadbeen smashed to atoms where it stood. In neither case were thereany signs which could give us a clue as to the criminal orlunatic who had done the mischief. Now, Mr. Holmes, you have gotthe facts.”

+ +

“They are singular, not to say grotesque,” said Holmes. “May Iask whether the two busts smashed in Dr. Barnicot’s rooms werethe exact duplicates of the one which was destroyed in MorseHudson’s shop?”

+ +

“They were taken from the same mould.”

+ +

“Such a fact must tell against the theory that the man who breaksthem is influenced by any general hatred of Napoleon. Consideringhow many hundreds of statues of the great Emperor must exist inLondon, it is too much to suppose such a coincidence as that apromiscuous iconoclast should chance to begin upon threespecimens of the same bust.”

+ +

“Well, I thought as you do,” said Lestrade. “On the other hand,this Morse Hudson is the purveyor of busts in that part ofLondon, and these three were the only ones which had been in hisshop for years. So, although, as you say, there are many hundredsof statues in London, it is very probable that these three werethe only ones in that district. Therefore, a local fanatic wouldbegin with them. What do you think, Dr. Watson?”

+ +

“There are no limits to the possibilities of monomania,” Ianswered. “There is the condition which the modern Frenchpsychologists have called the _idée fixe_, which may be triflingin character, and accompanied by complete sanity in every otherway. A man who had read deeply about Napoleon, or who hadpossibly received some hereditary family injury through the greatwar, might conceivably form such an _idée fixe_ and under itsinfluence be capable of any fantastic outrage.”

+ +

“That won’t do, my dear Watson,” said Holmes, shaking his head,“for no amount of _idée fixe_ would enable your interestingmonomaniac to find out where these busts were situated.”

+ +

“Well, how do _you_ explain it?”

+ +

“I don’t attempt to do so. I would only observe that there is acertain method in the gentleman’s eccentric proceedings. Forexample, in Dr. Barnicot’s hall, where a sound might arouse thefamily, the bust was taken outside before being broken, whereasin the surgery, where there was less danger of an alarm, it wassmashed where it stood. The affair seems absurdly trifling, andyet I dare call nothing trivial when I reflect that some of mymost classic cases have had the least promising commencement. Youwill remember, Watson, how the dreadful business of the Abernettyfamily was first brought to my notice by the depth which theparsley had sunk into the butter upon a hot day. I can’t afford,therefore, to smile at your three broken busts, Lestrade, and Ishall be very much obliged to you if you will let me hear of anyfresh development of so singular a chain of events.”

+ +

The development for which my friend had asked came in a quickerand an infinitely more tragic form than he could have imagined. Iwas still dressing in my bedroom next morning, when there was atap at the door and Holmes entered, a telegram in his hand. Heread 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 ofthe story of the statues. In that case our friend theimage-breaker has begun operations in another quarter of London.There’s coffee on the table, Watson, and I have a cab at thedoor.”

+ +

In half an hour we had reached Pitt Street, a quiet littlebackwater just beside one of the briskest currents of Londonlife. No. 131 was one of a row, all flat-chested, respectable,and most unromantic dwellings. As we drove up, we found therailings in front of the house lined by a curious crowd. Holmeswhistled.

+ +

“By George! It’s attempted murder at the least. Nothing less willhold the London message-boy. There’s a deed of violence indicatedin that fellow’s round shoulders and outstretched neck. What’sthis, Watson? The top steps swilled down and the other ones dry.Footsteps enough, anyhow! Well, well, there’s Lestrade at thefront window, and we shall soon know all about it.”

+ +

The official received us with a very grave face and showed usinto a sitting-room, where an exceedingly unkempt and agitatedelderly man, clad in a flannel dressing-gown, was pacing up anddown. He was introduced to us as the owner of the house—Mr.Horace Harker, of the Central Press Syndicate.

+ +

“It’s the Napoleon bust business again,” said Lestrade. “Youseemed interested last night, Mr. Holmes, so I thought perhapsyou would be glad to be present now that the affair has taken avery much graver turn.”

+ +

“What has it turned to, then?”

+ +

“To murder. Mr. Harker, will you tell these gentlemen exactlywhat has occurred?”

+ +

The man in the dressing-gown turned upon us with a mostmelancholy face.

+ +

“It’s an extraordinary thing,” said he, “that all my life I havebeen collecting other people’s news, and now that a real piece ofnews has come my own way I am so confused and bothered that Ican’t put two words together. If I had come in here as ajournalist, I should have interviewed myself and had two columnsin every evening paper. As it is, I am giving away valuable copyby telling my story over and over to a string of differentpeople, and I can make no use of it myself. However, I’ve heardyour name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and if you’ll only explain thisqueer 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 Ibought for this very room about four months ago. I picked it upcheap from Harding Brothers, two doors from the High StreetStation. A great deal of my journalistic work is done at night,and I often write until the early morning. So it was to-day. Iwas sitting in my den, which is at the back of the top of thehouse, about three o’clock, when I was convinced that I heardsome sounds downstairs. I listened, but they were not repeated,and I concluded that they came from outside. Then suddenly, aboutfive minutes later, there came a most horrible yell—the mostdreadful sound, Mr. Holmes, that ever I heard. It will ring in myears as long as I live. I sat frozen with horror for a minute ortwo. Then I seized the poker and went downstairs. When I enteredthis room I found the window wide open, and I at once observedthat the bust was gone from the mantelpiece. Why any burglarshould take such a thing passes my understanding, for it was onlya plaster cast and of no real value whatever.

+ +

“You can see for yourself that anyone going out through that openwindow could reach the front doorstep by taking a long stride.This was clearly what the burglar had done, so I went round andopened the door. Stepping out into the dark, I nearly fell over adead man, who was lying there. I ran back for a light and therewas the poor fellow, a great gash in his throat and the wholeplace swimming in blood. He lay on his back, his knees drawn up,and his mouth horribly open. I shall see him in my dreams. I hadjust time to blow on my police-whistle, and then I must havefainted, 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 shallsee the body at the mortuary, but we have made nothing of it upto now. He is a tall man, sunburned, very powerful, not more thanthirty. He is poorly dressed, and yet does not appear to be alabourer. A horn-handled clasp knife was lying in a pool of bloodbeside him. Whether it was the weapon which did the deed, orwhether it belonged to the dead man, I do not know. There was noname on his clothing, and nothing in his pockets save an apple,some string, a shilling map of London, and a photograph. Here itis.”

+ +

It was evidently taken by a snapshot from a small camera. Itrepresented an alert, sharp-featured simian man, with thickeyebrows and a very peculiar projection of the lower part of theface, like the muzzle of a baboon.

+ +

“And what became of the bust?” asked Holmes, after a carefulstudy of this picture.

+ +

“We had news of it just before you came. It has been found in thefront garden of an empty house in Campden House Road. It wasbroken into fragments. I am going round now to see it. Will youcome?”

+ +

“Certainly. I must just take one look round.” He examined thecarpet and the window. “The fellow had either very long legs orwas a most active man,” said he. “With an area beneath, it was nomean feat to reach that window ledge and open that window.Getting back was comparatively simple. Are you coming with us tosee the remains of your bust, Mr. Harker?”

+ +

The disconsolate journalist had seated himself at awriting-table.

+ +

“I must try and make something of it,” said he, “though I have nodoubt that the first editions of the evening papers are outalready with full details. It’s like my luck! You remember whenthe stand fell at Doncaster? Well, I was the only journalist inthe stand, and my journal the only one that had no account of it,for I was too shaken to write it. And now I’ll be too late with amurder done on my own doorstep.”

+ +

As we left the room, we heard his pen travelling shrilly over thefoolscap.

+ +

The spot where the fragments of the bust had been found was onlya few hundred yards away. For the first time our eyes rested uponthis presentment of the great emperor, which seemed to raise suchfrantic and destructive hatred in the mind of the unknown. It layscattered, in splintered shards, upon the grass. Holmes picked upseveral of them and examined them carefully. I was convinced,from his intent face and his purposeful manner, that at last hewas 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,we have some suggestive facts to act upon. The possession of thistrifling bust was worth more, in the eyes of this strangecriminal, than a human life. That is one point. Then there is thesingular fact that he did not break it in the house, orimmediately outside the house, if to break it was his soleobject.”

+ +

“He was rattled and bustled by meeting this other fellow. Hehardly knew what he was doing.”

+ +

“Well, that’s likely enough. But I wish to call your attentionvery particularly to the position of this house, in the garden ofwhich the bust was destroyed.”

+ +

Lestrade looked about him.

+ +

“It was an empty house, and so he knew that he would not bedisturbed in the garden.”

+ +

“Yes, but there is another empty house farther up the streetwhich he must have passed before he came to this one. Why did henot break it there, since it is evident that every yard that hecarried it increased the 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 was his reason.”

+ +

“By Jove! that’s true,” said the detective. “Now that I come tothink of it, Dr. Barnicot’s bust was broken not far from his redlamp. Well, Mr. Holmes, what are we to do with that fact?”

+ +

“To remember it—to docket it. We may come on something laterwhich will bear upon it. What steps do you propose to take now,Lestrade?”

+ +

“The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion, is toidentify the dead man. There should be no difficulty about that.When we have found who he is and who his associates are, weshould have a good start in learning what he was doing in PittStreet last night, and who it was who met him and killed him onthe doorstep of Mr. Horace Harker. Don’t you think so?”

+ +

“No doubt; and yet it is not quite the way in which I shouldapproach the case.”

+ +

“What would you do then?”

+ +

“Oh, you must not let me influence you in any way. I suggest thatyou go on your line and I on mine. We can compare notesafterwards, and each will supplement the other.”

+ +

“Very good,” said Lestrade.

+ +

“If you are going back to Pitt Street, you might see Mr. HoraceHarker. Tell him for me that I have quite made up my mind, andthat it is certain that a dangerous homicidal lunatic, withNapoleonic delusions, was in his house last night. It will beuseful 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 willinterest Mr. Horace Harker and the subscribers of the CentralPress Syndicate. Now, Watson, I think that we shall find that wehave a long and rather complex day’s work before us. I should beglad, Lestrade, if you could make it convenient to meet us atBaker Street at six o’clock this evening. Until then I shouldlike to keep this photograph, found in the dead man’s pocket. Itis possible that I may have to ask your company and assistanceupon a small expedition which will have be undertaken to-night,if my chain of reasoning should prove to be correct. Until thengood-bye and good luck!”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes and I walked together to the High Street, wherewe stopped at the shop of Harding Brothers, whence the bust hadbeen purchased. A young assistant informed us that Mr. Hardingwould be absent until afternoon, and that he was himself anewcomer, who could give us no information. Holmes’s face showedhis disappointment and annoyance.

+ +

“Well, well, we can’t expect to have it all our own way, Watson,”he said, at last. “We must come back in the afternoon, if Mr.Harding will not be here until then. I am, as you have no doubtsurmised, endeavouring to trace these busts to their source, inorder to find if there is not something peculiar which mayaccount for their remarkable fate. Let us make for Mr. MorseHudson, of the Kennington Road, and see if he can throw any lightupon the problem.”

+ +

A drive of an hour brought us to the picture-dealer’sestablishment. He was a small, stout man with a red face and apeppery manner.

+ +

“Yes, sir. On my very counter, sir,” said he. “What we pay ratesand taxes for I don’t know, when any ruffian can come in andbreak one’s goods. Yes, sir, it was I who sold Dr. Barnicot histwo statues. Disgraceful, sir! A Nihilist plot—that’s what I makeit. No one but an anarchist would go about breaking statues. Redrepublicans—that’s what I call ’em. Who did I get the statuesfrom? I don’t see what that has to do with it. Well, if youreally want to know, I got them from Gelder & Co., in ChurchStreet, Stepney. They are a well-known house in the trade, andhave been this twenty years. How many had I? Three—two and oneare three—two of Dr. Barnicot’s, and one smashed in broaddaylight on my own counter. Do I know that photograph? No, Idon’t. Yes, I do, though. Why, it’s Beppo. He was a kind ofItalian piece-work man, who made himself useful in the shop. Hecould carve a bit, and gild and frame, and do odd jobs. Thefellow left me last week, and I’ve heard nothing of him since.No, I don’t know where he came from nor where he went to. I hadnothing against him while he was here. He was gone two daysbefore the bust was smashed.”

+ +

“Well, that’s all we could reasonably expect from Morse Hudson,”said Holmes, as we emerged from the shop. “We have this Beppo asa common factor, both in Kennington and in Kensington, so that isworth a ten-mile drive. Now, Watson, let us make for Gelder &Co., of Stepney, the source and origin of the busts. I shall besurprised if we don’t get some help down there.”

+ +

In rapid succession we passed through the fringe of fashionableLondon, hotel London, theatrical London, literary London,commercial London, and, finally, maritime London, till we came toa riverside city of a hundred thousand souls, where the tenementhouses swelter and reek with the outcasts of Europe. Here, in abroad thoroughfare, once the abode of wealthy City merchants, wefound the sculpture works for which we searched. Outside was aconsiderable yard full of monumental masonry. Inside was a largeroom in which fifty workers were carving or moulding. Themanager, a big blond German, received us civilly and gave a clearanswer to all Holmes’s questions. A reference to his books showedthat hundreds of casts had been taken from a marble copy ofDevine’s head of Napoleon, but that the three which had been sentto Morse Hudson a year or so before had been half of a batch ofsix, the other three being sent to Harding Brothers, ofKensington. There was no reason why those six should be differentfrom any of the other casts. He could suggest no possible causewhy anyone should wish to destroy them—in fact, he laughed at theidea. Their wholesale price was six shillings, but the retailerwould get twelve or more. The cast was taken in two moulds fromeach side of the face, and then these two profiles of plaster ofParis were joined together to make the complete bust. The workwas usually done by Italians, in the room we were in. Whenfinished, the busts were put on a table in the passage to dry,and afterwards stored. That was all he could tell us.

+ +

But the production of the photograph had a remarkable effect uponthe manager. His face flushed with anger, and his brows knottedover his blue Teutonic eyes.

+ +

“Ah, the rascal!” he cried. “Yes, indeed, I know him very well.This has always been a respectable establishment, and the onlytime that we have ever had the police in it was over this veryfellow. It was more than a year ago now. He knifed anotherItalian in the street, and then he came to the works with thepolice on his heels, and he was taken here. Beppo was hisname—his second name I never knew. Serve me right for engaging aman 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 isout now, but he has not dared to show his nose here. We have acousin of his here, and I daresay he could tell you where he is.”

+ +

“No, no,” cried Holmes, “not a word to the cousin—not a word, Ibeg of you. The matter is very important, and the farther I gowith it, the more important it seems to grow. When you referredin your ledger to the sale of those casts I observed that thedate was June 3rd of last year. Could you give me the date whenBeppo was arrested?”

+ +

“I could tell you roughly by the pay-list,” the manager answered.“Yes,” he continued, after some turning over of pages, “he waspaid last on May 20th.”

+ +

“Thank you,” said Holmes. “I don’t think that I need intrude uponyour time and patience any more.” With a last word of cautionthat he should say nothing as to our researches, we turned ourfaces westward once more.

+ +

The afternoon was far advanced before we were able to snatch ahasty luncheon at a restaurant. A news-bill at the entranceannounced “Kensington Outrage. Murder by a Madman,” and thecontents of the paper showed that Mr. Horace Harker had got hisaccount into print after all. Two columns were occupied with ahighly sensational and flowery rendering of the whole incident.Holmes propped it against the cruet-stand and read it while heate. 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 ofopinion upon this case, since Mr. Lestrade, one of the mostexperienced members of the official force, and Mr. SherlockHolmes, the well-known consulting expert, have each come to theconclusion that the grotesque series of incidents, which haveended in so tragic a fashion, arise from lunacy rather than fromdeliberate crime. No explanation save mental aberration can coverthe facts.

+ +

“The Press, Watson, is a most valuable institution, if you onlyknow how to use it. And now, if you have quite finished, we willhark back to Kensington and see what the manager of HardingBrothers has to say on the matter.”

+ +

The founder of that great emporium proved to be a brisk, crisplittle person, very dapper and quick, with a clear head and aready 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 thebust some months ago. We ordered three busts of that sort fromGelder & Co., of Stepney. They are all sold now. To whom? Oh, Idaresay by consulting our sales book we could very easily tellyou. Yes, we have the entries here. One to Mr. Harker you see,and one to Mr. Josiah Brown, of Laburnum Lodge, Laburnum Vale,Chiswick, and one to Mr. Sandeford, of Lower Grove Road, Reading.No, I have never seen this face which you show me in thephotograph. You would hardly forget it, would you, sir, for I’veseldom seen an uglier. Have we any Italians on the staff? Yes,sir, we have several among our workpeople and cleaners. I daresaythey might get a peep at that sales book if they wanted to. Thereis no particular reason for keeping a watch upon that book. Well,well, it’s a very strange business, and I hope that you will letme know if anything comes of your inquiries.”

+ +

Holmes had taken several notes during Mr. Harding’s evidence, andI could see that he was thoroughly satisfied by the turn whichaffairs were taking. He made no remark, however, save that,unless we hurried, we should be late for our appointment withLestrade. Sure enough, when we reached Baker Street the detectivewas already there, and we found him pacing up and down in a feverof impatience. His look of importance showed that his day’s workhad not been in vain.

+ +

“Well?” he asked. “What luck, Mr. Holmes?”

+ +

“We have had a very busy day, and not entirely a wasted one,” myfriend explained. “We have seen both the retailers and also thewholesale manufacturers. I can trace each of the busts now fromthe beginning.”

+ +

“The busts,” cried Lestrade. “Well, well, you have your ownmethods, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and it is not for me to say a wordagainst them, but I think I have done a better day’s work thanyou. I have identified the dead 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 andthe Italian Quarter. Well, this dead man had some Catholic emblemround his neck, and that, along with his colour, made me think hewas from the South. Inspector Hill knew him the moment he caughtsight of him. His name is Pietro Venucci, from Naples, and he isone of the greatest cut-throats in London. He is connected withthe Mafia, which, as you know, is a secret political society,enforcing its decrees by murder. Now, you see how the affairbegins to clear up. The other fellow is probably an Italian also,and a member of the Mafia. He has broken the rules in somefashion. Pietro is set upon his track. Probably the photograph wefound in his pocket is the man himself, so that he may not knifethe 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 quitefollow your explanation of the destruction of the busts.”

+ +

“The busts! You never can get those busts out of your head. Afterall, that is nothing; petty larceny, six months at the most. Itis the murder that we are really investigating, and I tell youthat I am gathering all the threads into my hands.”

+ +

“And the next stage?”

+ +

“Is a very simple one. I shall go down with Hill to the ItalianQuarter, find the man whose photograph we have got, and arresthim on the charge of murder. Will you come with us?”

+ +

“I think not. I fancy we can attain our end in a simpler way. Ican’t say for certain, because it all depends—well, it alldepends upon a factor which is completely outside our control.But I have great hopes—in fact, the betting is exactly two toone—that if you will come with us to-night I shall be able tohelp you to lay him by the heels.”

+ +

“In the Italian Quarter?”

+ +

“No, I fancy Chiswick is an address which is more likely to findhim. If you will come with me to Chiswick to-night, Lestrade,I’ll promise to go to the Italian Quarter with you to-morrow, andno harm will be done by the delay. And now I think that a fewhours’ sleep would do us all good, for I do not propose to leavebefore eleven o’clock, and it is unlikely that we shall be backbefore morning. You’ll dine with us, Lestrade, and then you arewelcome to the sofa until it is time for us to start. In themeantime, Watson, I should be glad if you would ring for anexpress messenger, for I have a letter to send and it isimportant that it should go at once.”

+ +

Holmes spent the evening in rummaging among the files of the olddaily papers with which one of our lumber-rooms was packed. Whenat last he descended, it was with triumph in his eyes, but hesaid nothing to either of us as to the result of his researches.For my own part, I had followed step by step the methods by whichhe had traced the various windings of this complex case, and,though I could not yet perceive the goal which we would reach, Iunderstood clearly that Holmes expected this grotesque criminalto make an attempt upon the two remaining busts, one of which, Iremembered, was at Chiswick. No doubt the object of our journeywas to catch him in the very act, and I could not but admire thecunning with which my friend had inserted a wrong clue in theevening paper, so as to give the fellow the idea that he couldcontinue his scheme with impunity. I was not surprised whenHolmes suggested that I should take my revolver with me. He hadhimself picked up the loaded hunting-crop, which was hisfavourite weapon.

+ +

A four-wheeler was at the door at eleven, and in it we drove to aspot at the other side of Hammersmith Bridge. Here the cabman wasdirected to wait. A short walk brought us to a secluded roadfringed with pleasant houses, each standing in its own grounds.In the light of a street lamp we read “Laburnum Villa” upon thegate-post of one of them. The occupants had evidently retired torest, for all was dark save for a fanlight over the hall door,which shed a single blurred circle on to the garden path. Thewooden fence which separated the grounds from the road threw adense black shadow upon the inner side, and here it was that wecrouched.

+ +

“I fear that you’ll have a long wait,” Holmes whispered. “We maythank our stars that it is not raining. I don’t think we can evenventure to smoke to pass the time. However, it’s a two to onechance that we get something to pay us for our trouble.”

+ +

It proved, however, that our vigil was not to be so long asHolmes had led us to fear, and it ended in a very sudden andsingular fashion. In an instant, without the least sound to warnus of his coming, the garden gate swung open, and a lithe, darkfigure, as swift and active as an ape, rushed up the garden path.We saw it whisk past the light thrown from over the door anddisappear against the black shadow of the house. There was a longpause, during which we held our breath, and then a very gentlecreaking sound came to our ears. The window was being opened. Thenoise ceased, and again there was a long silence. The fellow wasmaking his way into the house. We saw the sudden flash of a darklantern inside the room. What he sought was evidently not there,for again we saw the flash through another blind, and thenthrough another.

+ +

“Let us get to the open window. We will nab him as he climbsout,” Lestrade whispered.

+ +

But before we could move, the man had emerged again. As he cameout into the glimmering patch of light, we saw that he carriedsomething white under his arm. He looked stealthily all roundhim. The silence of the deserted street reassured him. Turninghis back upon us he laid down his burden, and the next instantthere was the sound of a sharp tap, followed by a clatter andrattle. The man was so intent upon what he was doing that henever heard our steps as we stole across the grass plot. With thebound of a tiger Holmes was on his back, and an instant laterLestrade and I had him by either wrist, and the handcuffs hadbeen fastened. As we turned him over I saw a hideous, sallowface, with writhing, furious features, glaring up at us, and Iknew that it was indeed the man of the photograph whom we hadsecured.

+ +

But it was not our prisoner to whom Holmes was giving hisattention. Squatted on the doorstep, he was engaged in mostcarefully examining that which the man had brought from thehouse. It was a bust of Napoleon, like the one which we had seenthat morning, and it had been broken into similar fragments.Carefully Holmes held each separate shard to the light, but in noway did it differ from any other shattered piece of plaster. Hehad just completed his examination when the hall lights flew 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 thenote which you sent by the express messenger, and I did exactlywhat you told me. We locked every door on the inside and awaiteddevelopments. Well, I’m very glad to see that you have got therascal. I hope, gentlemen, that you will come in and have somerefreshment.”

+ +

However, Lestrade was anxious to get his man into safe quarters,so within a few minutes our cab had been summoned and we were allfour upon our way to London. Not a word would our captive say,but he glared at us from the shadow of his matted hair, and once,when my hand seemed within his reach, he snapped at it like ahungry wolf. We stayed long enough at the police-station to learnthat a search of his clothing revealed nothing save a fewshillings and a long sheath knife, the handle of which borecopious traces of recent blood.

+ +

“That’s all right,” said Lestrade, as we parted. “Hill knows allthese gentry, and he will give a name to him. You’ll find that mytheory of the Mafia will work out all right. But I’m sure I amexceedingly obliged to you, Mr. Holmes, for the workmanlike wayin which you laid hands upon him. I don’t quite understand it allyet.”

+ +

“I fear it is rather too late an hour for explanations,” saidHolmes. “Besides, there are one or two details which are notfinished off, and it is one of those cases which are worthworking out to the very end. If you will come round once more tomy rooms at six o’clock to-morrow, I think I shall be able toshow you that even now you have not grasped the entire meaning ofthis business, which presents some features which make itabsolutely original in the history of crime. If ever I permit youto chronicle any more of my little problems, Watson, I foreseethat you will enliven your pages by an account of the singularadventure of the Napoleonic busts.”

+ +

When we met again next evening, Lestrade was furnished with muchinformation concerning our prisoner. His name, it appeared, wasBeppo, second name unknown. He was a well-known ne’er-do-wellamong the Italian colony. He had once been a skilful sculptor andhad earned an honest living, but he had taken to evil courses andhad twice already been in jail—once for a petty theft, and once,as we had already heard, for stabbing a fellow-countryman. Hecould talk English perfectly well. His reasons for destroying thebusts were still unknown, and he refused to answer any questionsupon the subject, but the police had discovered that these samebusts might very well have been made by his own hands, since hewas engaged in this class of work at the establishment of Gelder& Co. To all this information, much of which we already knew,Holmes listened with polite attention, but I, who knew him sowell, could clearly see that his thoughts were elsewhere, and Idetected a mixture of mingled uneasiness and expectation beneaththat mask which he was wont to assume. At last he started in hischair, and his eyes brightened. There had been a ring at thebell. A minute later we heard steps upon the stairs, and anelderly red-faced man with grizzled side-whiskers was ushered in.In his right hand he carried an old-fashioned carpet-bag, whichhe placed upon the table.

+ +

“Is Mr. Sherlock Holmes here?”

+ +

My friend bowed and smiled. “Mr. Sandeford, of Reading, Isuppose?” said he.

+ +

“Yes, sir, I fear that I am a little late, but the trains wereawkward. 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 copyof Devine’s Napoleon, and am prepared to pay you ten pounds forthe one which is in your possession.’ Is that right?”

+ +

“Certainly.”

+ +

“I was very much surprised at your letter, for I could notimagine how you knew that I owned such a thing.”

+ +

“Of course you must have been surprised, but the explanation isvery simple. Mr. Harding, of Harding Brothers, said that they hadsold you their 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 onlygave fifteen shillings for the bust, and I think you ought toknow that before I take ten pounds from you.

+ +

“I am sure the scruple does you honour, Mr. Sandeford. But I havenamed that price, so I intend to stick to it.”

+ +

“Well, it is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes. I brought the bustup with me, as you asked me to do. Here it is!” He opened hisbag, and at last we saw placed upon our table a complete specimenof that bust which we had already seen more than once infragments.

+ +

Holmes took a paper from his pocket and laid a ten-pound noteupon the table.

+ +

“You will kindly sign that paper, Mr. Sandeford, in the presenceof these witnesses. It is simply to say that you transfer everypossible right that you ever had in the bust to me. I am amethodical man, you see, and you never know what turn eventsmight take afterwards. Thank you, Mr. Sandeford; here is yourmoney, and I wish you a very good evening.”

+ +

When our visitor had disappeared, Sherlock Holmes’s movementswere such as to rivet our attention. He began by taking a cleanwhite cloth from a drawer and laying it over the table. Then heplaced his newly acquired bust in the centre of the cloth.Finally, he picked up his hunting-crop and struck Napoleon asharp blow on the top of the head. The figure broke intofragments, and Holmes bent eagerly over the shattered remains.Next instant, with a loud shout of triumph he held up onesplinter, in which a round, dark object was fixed like a plum ina pudding.

+ +

“Gentlemen,” he cried, “let me introduce you to the famous blackpearl of the Borgias.”

+ +

Lestrade and I sat silent for a moment, and then, with aspontaneous impulse, we both broke at clapping, as at thewell-wrought crisis of a play. A flush of colour sprang toHolmes’s pale cheeks, and he bowed to us like the masterdramatist who receives the homage of his audience. It was at suchmoments that for an instant he ceased to be a reasoning machine,and betrayed his human love for admiration and applause. The samesingularly proud and reserved nature which turned away withdisdain from popular notoriety was capable of being moved to itsdepths by spontaneous wonder and praise from a friend.

+ +

“Yes, gentlemen,” said he, “it is the most famous pearl nowexisting in the world, and it has been my good fortune, by aconnected chain of inductive reasoning, to trace it from thePrince of Colonna’s bedroom at the Dacre Hotel, where it waslost, to the interior of this, the last of the six busts ofNapoleon which were manufactured by Gelder & Co., of Stepney. Youwill remember, Lestrade, the sensation caused by thedisappearance of this valuable jewel and the vain efforts of theLondon police to recover it. I was myself consulted upon thecase, but I was unable to throw any light upon it. Suspicion fellupon the maid of the Princess, who was an Italian, and it wasproved that she had a brother in London, but we failed to traceany connection between them. The maid’s name was LucretiaVenucci, and there is no doubt in my mind that this Pietro whowas murdered two nights ago was the brother. I have been lookingup the dates in the old files of the paper, and I find that thedisappearance of the pearl was exactly two days before the arrestof Beppo, for some crime of violence—an event which took place inthe factory of Gelder & Co., at the very moment when these bustswere being made. Now you clearly see the sequence of events,though you see them, of course, in the inverse order to the wayin which they presented themselves to me. Beppo had the pearl inhis possession. He may have stolen it from Pietro, he may havebeen Pietro’s confederate, he may have been the go-between ofPietro and his sister. It is of no consequence to us which is thecorrect solution.

+ +

“The main fact is that he _had_ the pearl, and at that moment,when it was on his person, he was pursued by the police. He madefor the factory in which he worked, and he knew that he had onlya few minutes in which to conceal this enormously valuable prize,which would otherwise be found on him when he was searched. Sixplaster casts of Napoleon were drying in the passage. One of themwas still soft. In an instant Beppo, a skilful workman, made asmall hole in the wet plaster, dropped in the pearl, and with afew touches covered over the aperture once more. It was anadmirable hiding-place. No one could possibly find it. But Beppowas condemned to a year’s imprisonment, and in the meanwhile hissix busts were scattered over London. He could not tell whichcontained his treasure. Only by breaking them could he see. Evenshaking would tell him nothing, for as the plaster was wet it wasprobable that the pearl would adhere to it—as, in fact, it hasdone. Beppo did not despair, and he conducted his search withconsiderable ingenuity and perseverance. Through a cousin whoworks with Gelder, he found out the retail firms who had boughtthe busts. He managed to find employment with Morse Hudson, andin that way tracked down three of them. The pearl was not there.Then, with the help of some Italian employee, he succeeded infinding out where the other three busts had gone. The first wasat Harker’s. There he was dogged by his confederate, who heldBeppo responsible for the loss of the pearl, and he stabbed himin the scuffle which followed.”

+ +

“If he was his confederate, why should he carry his photograph?”I asked.

+ +

“As a means of tracing him, if he wished to inquire about himfrom any third person. That was the obvious reason. Well, afterthe murder I calculated that Beppo would probably hurry ratherthan delay his movements. He would fear that the police wouldread his secret, and so he hastened on before they should getahead of him. Of course, I could not say that he had not foundthe pearl in Harker’s bust. I had not even concluded for certainthat it was the pearl, but it was evident to me that he waslooking for something, since he carried the bust past the otherhouses in order to break it in the garden which had a lampoverlooking it. Since Harker’s bust was one in three, the chanceswere exactly as I told you—two to one against the pearl beinginside it. There remained two busts, and it was obvious that hewould go for the London one first. I warned the inmates of thehouse, so as to avoid a second tragedy, and we went down, withthe happiest results. By that time, of course, I knew for certainthat it was the Borgia pearl that we were after. The name of themurdered man linked the one event with the other. There onlyremained a single bust—the Reading one—and the pearl must bethere. 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 workmanlikeone than that. We’re not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No,sir, we are very proud of you, and if you come down to-morrow,there’s not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngestconstable, who wouldn’t be glad to shake you by the hand.”

+ +

“Thank you!” said Holmes. “Thank you!” and as he turned away, itseemed to me that he was more nearly moved by the softer humanemotions than I had ever seen him. A moment later he was the coldand practical thinker once more. “Put the pearl in the safe,Watson,” said he, “and get out the papers of the Conk-Singletonforgery case. Good-bye, Lestrade. If any little problem comesyour way, I shall be happy, if I can, to give you a hint or twoas to its solution.”

+======= THE_ADVENTURE_OF_THE_SIX_NAPOLEONS @@ -372,6 +680,7 @@

THE_ADVENTURE_OF_THE_SIX_NAPOLEONS

“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_workmanlikeone_than_that._We’re_not_jealous_of_you_at_Scotland_Yard._No,sir,_we_are_very_proud_of_you,_and_if_you_come_down_to-morrow,there’s_not_a_man,_from_the_oldest_inspector_to_the_youngestconstable,_who_wouldn’t_be_glad_to_shake_you_by_the_hand.”

“Thank_you!”_said_Holmes._“Thank_you!”_and_as_he_turned_away,_itseemed_to_me_that_he_was_more_nearly_moved_by_the_softer_humanemotions_than_I_had_ever_seen_him._A_moment_later_he_was_the_coldand_practical_thinker_once_more._“Put_the_pearl_in_the_safe,Watson,”_said_he,_“and_get_out_the_papers_of_the_Conk-Singletonforgery_case._Good-bye,_Lestrade._If_any_little_problem_comesyour_way,_I_shall_be_happy,_if_I_can,_to_give_you_a_hint_or_twoas_to_its_solution.”

+>>>>>>> 5092fc77a613991eb73dad800f2cb3d6697ccacc diff --git a/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Speckled_Band.html b/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Speckled_Band.html index a515637..43a0b6e 100644 --- a/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Speckled_Band.html +++ b/dist/The_Adventure_of_the_Speckled_Band.html @@ -3,6 +3,524 @@ +<<<<<<< HEAD + THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND + + + + + +

THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND

+

On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I haveduring the last eight years studied the methods of my friend SherlockHolmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number merely strange,but none commonplace; for, working as he did rather for the love of hisart than for the acquirement of wealth, he refused to associate himselfwith any investigation which did not tend towards the unusual, and eventhe fantastic. Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall anywhich presented more singular features than that which was associatedwith the well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. Theevents in question occurred in the early days of my association withHolmes, when we were sharing rooms as bachelors in Baker Street. Itis possible that I might have placed them upon record before, but apromise of secrecy was made at the time, from which I have only beenfreed during the last month by the untimely death of the lady to whomthe pledge was given. It is perhaps as well that the facts should nowcome to light, for I have reasons to know that there are wide-spreadrumors as to the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make thematter even more terrible than the truth.

+ +

It was early in April in the year ’83 that I woke one morning to findSherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He wasa late riser as a rule, and as the clock on the mantel-piece showedme that it was only a quarter past seven, I blinked up at him in somesurprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was myselfregular in my habits.

+ +

“Very sorry to knock you up, Watson,” said he, “but it’s the common lotthis morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me,and I on you.”

+ +

“What is it, then—a fire?”

+ +

“No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerablestate of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She is waiting now inthe sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander about the metropolisat this hour of the morning, and knock sleepy people up out of theirbeds, I presume that it is something very pressing which they have tocommunicate. Should it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I amsure, wish to follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that Ishould call you and give you the chance.”

+ +

“My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything.”

+ +

I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his professionalinvestigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift asintuitions, and yet always founded on a logical basis, with which heunravelled the problems which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw onmy clothes, and was ready in a few minutes to accompany my friend downto the sitting-room. A lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, whohad been sitting in the window, rose as we entered.

+ +

“Good-morning, madam,” said Holmes, cheerily. “My name is SherlockHolmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, beforewhom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I am glad to seethat Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the fire. Pray draw upto it, and I shall order you a cup of hot coffee, for I observe thatyou are shivering.”

+ +

“It is not cold which makes me shiver,” said the woman, in a low voice,changing her seat as requested.

+ +

“What, then?”

+ +

“It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror.” She raised her veil as shespoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable state ofagitation, her face all drawn and gray, with restless, frightened eyes,like those of some hunted animal. Her features and figure were those ofa woman of thirty, but her hair was shot with premature gray, and herexpression was weary and haggard. Sherlock Holmes ran her over with oneof his quick, all-comprehensive glances.

+ +

“You must not fear,” said he, soothingly, bending forward and pattingher forearm. “We shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt. Youhave come in by train this morning, I see.”

+ +

“You know me, then?”

+ +

“No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm ofyour left glove. You must have started early, and yet you had a gooddrive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reached the station.”

+ +

The lady gave a violent start, and stared in bewilderment at mycompanion.

+ +

“There is no mystery, my dear madam,” said he, smiling. “The left armof your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven places. Themarks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a dog-cart whichthrows up mud in that way, and then only when you sit on the left-handside of the driver.”

+ +

“Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct,” said she. “Istarted from home before six, reached Leatherhead at twenty past, andcame in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, I can stand this strain nolonger; I shall go mad if it continues. I have no one to turn to—none,save only one, who cares for me, and he, poor fellow, can be of littleaid. I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs.Farintosh, whom you helped in the hour of her sore need. It was fromher that I had your address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you couldhelp me, too, and at least throw a little light through the densedarkness which surrounds me? At present it is out of my power to rewardyou for your services, but in a month or six weeks I shall be married,with the control of my own income, and then at least you shall notfind me ungrateful.”

+ +

Holmes turned to his desk, and unlocking it, drew out a smallcase-book, which he consulted.

+ +

“Farintosh,” said he. “Ah yes, I recall the case; it was concerned withan opal tiara. I think it was before your time, Watson. I can only say,madam, that I shall be happy to devote the same care to your case asI did to that of your friend. As to reward, my profession is its ownreward; but you are at liberty to defray whatever expenses I may be putto, at the time which suits you best. And now I beg that you will laybefore us everything that may help us in forming an opinion upon thematter.”

+ +

“Alas!” replied our visitor, “the very horror of my situation liesin the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend soentirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to another, thateven he to whom of all others I have a right to look for help andadvice looks upon all that I tell him about it as the fancies of anervous woman. He does not say so, but I can read it from his soothinganswers and averted eyes. But I have heard, Mr. Holmes, that you cansee deeply into the manifold wickedness of the human heart. You mayadvise me how to walk amid the dangers which encompass me.”

+ +

“I am all attention, madam.”

+ +

“My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my step-father, who isthe last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, theRoylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey.”

+ +

Holmes nodded his head. “The name is familiar to me,” said he.

+ +

“The family was at one time among the richest in England, and theestates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, andHampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four successiveheirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the familyruin was eventually completed by a gambler in the days of theRegency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, and thetwo-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under a heavymortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence there, livingthe horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but his only son, mystep-father, seeing that he must adapt himself to the new conditions,obtained an advance from a relative, which enabled him to take amedical degree, and went out to Calcutta, where, by his professionalskill and his force of character, he established a large practice.In a fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had beenperpetrated in the house, he beat his native butler to death, andnarrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a longterm of imprisonment, and afterwards returned to England a morose anddisappointed man.

+ +

“When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, theyoung widow of Major-general Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. My sisterJulia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the time ofmy mother’s re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of money—not lessthan £1000 a year—and this she bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirelywhile we resided with him, with a provision that a certain annual sumshould be allowed to each of us in the event of our marriage. Shortlyafter our return to England my mother died—she was killed eight yearsago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned hisattempts to establish himself in practice in London, and took us tolive with him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The moneywhich my mother had left was enough for all our wants, and there seemedto be no obstacle to our happiness.

+ +

“But a terrible change came over our step-father about this time.Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbors, whohad at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back inthe old family seat, he shut himself up in his house, and seldom cameout save to indulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might cross hispath. Violence of temper approaching to mania has been hereditary inthe men of the family, and in my step-father’s case it had, I believe,been intensified by his long residence in the tropics. A series ofdisgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in the police-court,until at last he became the terror of the village, and the folkswould fly at his approach, for he is a man of immense strength, andabsolutely uncontrollable in his anger.

+ +

“Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a stream,and it was only by paying over all the money which I could gathertogether that I was able to avert another public exposure. He had nofriends at all save the wandering gypsies, and he would give thesevagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered landwhich represent the family estate, and would accept in return thehospitality of their tents, wandering away with them sometimes forweeks on end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are sentover to him by a correspondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah anda baboon, which wander freely over his grounds, and are feared by thevillagers almost as much as their master.

+ +

“You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had nogreat pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay with us, and for along time we did all the work of the house. She was but thirty at thetime of her death, and yet her hair had already begun to whiten, evenas mine has.”

+ +

“Your sister is dead, then?”

+ +

“She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish tospeak to you. You can understand that, living the life which I havedescribed, we were little likely to see anyone of our own age andposition. We had, however, an aunt, my mother’s maiden sister, MissHonoria Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and we were occasionallyallowed to pay short visits at this lady’s house. Julia went there atChristmas two years ago, and met there a half-pay major of marines,to whom she became engaged. My step-father learned of the engagementwhen my sister returned, and offered no objection to the marriage; butwithin a fortnight of the day which had been fixed for the wedding, theterrible event occurred which has deprived me of my only companion.”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closedand his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened his lids now andglanced across at his visitor.

+ +

“Pray be precise as to details,” said he.

+ +

“It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadful time isseared into my memory. The manor-house is, as I have already said, veryold, and only one wing is now inhabited. The bedrooms in this wing areon the ground floor, the sitting-rooms being in the central block ofthe buildings. Of these bedrooms the first is Dr. Roylott’s, the secondmy sister’s, and the third my own. There is no communication betweenthem, but they all open out into the same corridor. Do I make myselfplain?”

+ +

“Perfectly so.”

+ +

“The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. That fatalnight Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though we knew that hehad not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled by the smell ofthe strong Indian cigars which it was his custom to smoke. She lefther room, therefore, and came into mine, where she sat for some time,chatting about her approaching wedding. At eleven o’clock she rose toleave me but she paused at the door and looked back.

+ +

“‘Tell me, Helen,’ said she, ‘have you ever heard any one whistle inthe dead of the night?’

+ +

“‘Never,’ said I.

+ +

“‘I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in yoursleep?’

+ +

“‘Certainly not. But why?’

+ +

“‘Because during the last few nights I have always, about three inthe morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, and ithas awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from—perhaps from thenext room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would just ask youwhether you had heard it.’

+ +

“‘No, I have not. It must be those wretched gypsies in the plantation.’

+ +

“‘Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you didnot hear it also.’

+ +

“‘Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.’

+ +

“‘Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.’ She smiled back atme, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her key turn in thelock.”

+ +

“Indeed,” said Holmes. “Was it your custom always to lock yourselves inat night?”

+ +

“Always.”

+ +

“And why?”

+ +

“I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetah and ababoon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors were locked.”

+ +

“Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement.”

+ +

“I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impending misfortuneimpressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect, were twins, and youknow how subtle are the links which bind two souls which are so closelyallied. It was a wild night. The wind was howling outside, and the rainwas beating and splashing against the windows. Suddenly, amid all thehubbub of the gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a terrifiedwoman. I knew that it was my sister’s voice. I sprang from my bed,wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened mydoor I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and afew moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen.As I ran down the passage, my sister’s door was unlocked, and revolvedslowly upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowingwhat was about to issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp Isaw my sister appear at the opening, her face blanched with terror, herhands groping for help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like thatof a drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at thatmoment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. Shewrithed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were dreadfullyconvulsed. At first I thought that she had not recognized me, but as Ibent over her she suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I shall neverforget, ‘Oh, my God! Helen! It was the band! The speckled band!’ Therewas something else which she would fain have said, and she stabbed withher finger into the air in the direction of the doctor’s room, but afresh convulsion seized her and choked her words. I rushed out, callingloudly for my step-father, and I met him hastening from his room in hisdressing-gown. When he reached my sister’s side she was unconscious,and though he poured brandy down her throat and sent for medical aidfrom the village, all efforts were in vain, for she slowly sank anddied without having recovered her consciousness. Such was the dreadfulend of my beloved sister.”

+ +

“One moment,” said Holmes; “are you sure about this whistle andmetallic sound? Could you swear to it?”

+ +

“That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is mystrong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of the galeand the creaking of an old house, I may possibly have been deceived.”

+ +

“Was your sister dressed?”

+ +

“No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found thecharred stump of a match, and in her left a matchbox.”

+ +

“Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when thealarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did thecoroner come to?”

+ +

“He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott’s conducthad long been notorious in the county, but he was unable to find anysatisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that the door hadbeen fastened upon the inner side, and the windows were blocked byold-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars, which were secured everynight. The walls were carefully sounded, and were shown to be quitesolid all round, and the flooring was also thoroughly examined, withthe same result. The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four largestaples. It is certain, therefore, that my sister was quite alone whenshe met her end. Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon her.”

+ +

“How about poison?”

+ +

“The doctors examined her for it, but without success.”

+ +

“What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?”

+ +

“It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, thoughwhat it was that frightened her I cannot imagine.”

+ +

“Were there gypsies in the plantation at the time?”

+ +

“Yes, there are nearly always some there.”

+ +

“Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band—a speckledband?”

+ +

“Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of delirium,sometimes that it may have referred to some band of people, perhaps tothese very gypsies in the plantation. I do not know whether the spottedhandkerchiefs which so many of them wear over their heads might havesuggested the strange adjective which she used.”

+ +

Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied.

+ +

“These are very deep waters,” said he; “pray go on with your narrative.”

+ +

“Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until latelylonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I haveknown for many years, has done me the honor to ask my hand in marriage.His name is Armitage—Percy Armitage—the second son of Mr. Armitage,of Crane Water, near Reading. My step-father has offered no oppositionto the match, and we are to be married in the course of the spring. Twodays ago some repairs were started in the west wing of the building,and my bedroom wall has been pierced, so that I have had to move intothe chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the very bed inwhich she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when last night,as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I suddenly heard inthe silence of the night the low whistle which had been the herald ofher own death. I sprang up and lit the lamp, but nothing was to beseen in the room. I was too shaken to go to bed again, however, so Idressed, and as soon as it was daylight I slipped down, got a dog-cartat the ‘Crown Inn,’ which is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead, fromwhence I have come on this morning with the one object of seeing youand asking your advice.”

+ +

“You have done wisely,” said my friend. “But have you told me all?”

+ +

“Yes, all.”

+ +

“Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your step-father.”

+ +

“Why, what do you mean?”

+ +

For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which fringed thehand that lay upon our visitor’s knee. Five little livid spots, themarks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed upon the white wrist.

+ +

“You have been cruelly used,” said Holmes.

+ +

The lady colored deeply and covered over her injured wrist. “He is ahard man,” she said, “and perhaps he hardly knows his own strength.”

+ +

There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin upon hishands and stared into the crackling fire.

+ +

“This is a very deep business,” he said, at last. “There are a thousanddetails which I should desire to know before I decide upon our courseof action. Yet we have not a moment to lose. If we were to come toStoke Moran to-day, would it be possible for us to see over these roomswithout the knowledge of your step-father?”

+ +

“As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon some mostimportant business. It is probable that he will be away all day, andthat there would be nothing to disturb you. We have a house-keepernow, but she is old and foolish, and I could easily get her out of theway.”

+ +

“Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson?”

+ +

“By no means.”

+ +

“Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself?”

+ +

“I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I am intown. But I shall return by the twelve o’clock train, so as to be therein time for your coming.”

+ +

“And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself some smallbusiness matters to attend to. Will you not wait and breakfast?”

+ +

“No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I have confidedmy trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing you again thisafternoon.” She dropped her thick black veil over her face and glidedfrom the room.

+ +

“And what do you think of it all, Watson?” asked Sherlock Holmes,leaning back in his chair.

+ +

“It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business.”

+ +

“Dark enough and sinister enough.”

+ +

“Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and walls aresound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable, then hersister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met her mysteriousend.”

+ +

“What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of the verypeculiar words of the dying woman?”

+ +

“I cannot think.”

+ +

“When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence of aband of gypsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor, thefact that we have every reason to believe that the doctor has aninterest in preventing his step-daughter’s marriage, the dying allusionto a band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stoner heard ametallic clang, which might have been caused by one of those metal barswhich secured the shutters falling back into their place, I think thatthere is good ground to think that the mystery may be cleared alongthose lines.”

+ +

“But what, then, did the gypsies do?”

+ +

“I cannot imagine.”

+ +

“I see many objections to any such theory.”

+ +

“And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are going toStoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the objections are fatal,or if they may be explained away. But what in the name of the devil!”

+ +

The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that ourdoor had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framedhimself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of theprofessional and of the agricultural, having a black top-hat, a longfrock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging inhis hand. So tall was he that his hat actually brushed the cross barof the doorway, and his breadth seemed to span it across from side toside. A large face, seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow withthe sun, and marked with every evil passion, was turned from one to theother of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high, thin,fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce old birdof prey.

+ +

“Which of you is Holmes?” asked this apparition.

+ +

“My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me,” said my companion,quietly.

+ +

“I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran.”

+ +

“Indeed, doctor,” said Holmes, blandly. “Pray take a seat.”

+ +

“I will do nothing of the kind. My step-daughter has been here. I havetraced her. What has she been saying to you?”

+ +

“It is a little cold for the time of the year,” said Holmes.

+ +

“What has she been saying to you?” screamed the old man, furiously.

+ +

“But I have heard that the crocuses promise well,” continued mycompanion, imperturbably.

+ +

“Ha! You put me off, do you?” said our new visitor, taking a stepforward and shaking his hunting-crop. “I know you, you scoundrel! Ihave heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler.”

+ +

My friend smiled.

+ +

“Holmes, the busybody!”

+ +

His smile broadened.

+ +

“Holmes, the Scotland-yard Jack-in-office!”

+ +

Holmes chuckled heartily. “Your conversation is most entertaining,”said he. “When you go out close the door, for there is a decideddraught.”

+ +

“I will go when I have said my say. Don’t you dare to meddle with myaffairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am adangerous man to fall foul of! See here.” He stepped swiftly forward,seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands.

+ +

“See that you keep yourself out of my grip,” he snarled, and hurlingthe twisted poker into the fireplace, he strode out of the room.

+ +

“He seems a very amiable person,” said Holmes, laughing. “I am notquite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that mygrip was not much more feeble than his own.” As he spoke he picked upthe steel poker, and with a sudden effort straightened it out again.

+ +

“Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the officialdetective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation,however, and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer fromher imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, Watson,we shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk down to Doctors’Commons, where I hope to get some data which may help us in thismatter.”

+ +

* * * * *

+ +

It was nearly one o’clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from hisexcursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled overwith notes and figures.

+ +

“I have seen the will of the deceased wife,” said he. “To determineits exact meaning I have been obliged to work out the present pricesof the investments with which it is concerned. The total income, whichat the time of the wife’s death was little short of £1100, is now,through the fall in agricultural prices, not more than £750. Eachdaughter can claim an income of £250, in case of marriage. It isevident, therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty wouldhave had a mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him toa very serious extent. My morning’s work has not been wasted, since ithas proved that he has the very strongest motives for standing in theway of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, this is too serious fordawdling, especially as the old man is aware that we are interestingourselves in his affairs; so if you are ready, we shall call a cab anddrive to Waterloo. I should be very much obliged if you would slip yourrevolver into your pocket. An Eley’s No. 2 is an excellent argumentwith gentlemen who can twist steel pokers into knots. That and atooth-brush are, I think, all that we need.”

+ +

At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead,where we hired a trap at the station inn, and drove for four or fivemiles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a perfect day, witha bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees andway-side hedges were just throwing out their first green shoots, andthe air was full of the pleasant smell of the moist earth. To me atleast there was a strange contrast between the sweet promise of thespring and this sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companionsat in the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down overhis eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the deepestthought. Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the shoulder, andpointed over the meadows.

+ +

“Look there!” said he.

+ +

A heavily-timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, thickening intoa grove at the highest point. From amid the branches there jutted outthe gray gables and high roof-tree of a very old mansion.

+ +

“Stoke Moran?” said he.

+ +

“Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott,” remarked thedriver.

+ +

“There is some building going on there,” said Holmes; “that is where weare going.”

+ +

“There’s the village,” said the driver, pointing to a cluster of roofssome distance to the left; “but if you want to get to the house, you’llfind it shorter to get over this stile, and so by the foot-path overthe fields. There it is, where the lady is walking.”

+ +

“And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner,” observed Holmes, shading hiseyes. “Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest.”

+ +

We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way toLeatherhead.

+ +

“I thought it as well,” said Holmes, as we climbed the stile, “thatthis fellow should think we had come here as architects, or on somedefinite business. It may stop his gossip. Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner.You see that we have been as good as our word.”

+ +

Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with a facewhich spoke her joy. “I have been waiting so eagerly for you,” shecried, shaking hands with us warmly. “All has turned out splendidly.Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely that he will be backbefore evening.”

+ +

“We have had the pleasure of making the doctor’s acquaintance,” saidHolmes, and in a few words he sketched out what had occurred. MissStoner turned white to the lips as she listened.

+ +

“Good heavens!” she cried, “he has followed me, then.”

+ +

“So it appears.”

+ +

“He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. What willhe say when he returns?”

+ +

“He must guard himself, for he may find that there is some one morecunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourself up from himto-night. If he is violent, we shall take you away to your aunt’s atHarrow. Now, we must make the best use of our time, so kindly take usat once to the rooms which we are to examine.”

+ +

The building was of gray, lichen-blotched stone, with a high centralportion, and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab, thrown outon each side. In one of these wings the windows were broken, andblocked with wooden boards, while the roof was partly caved in, apicture of ruin. The central portion was in little better repair, butthe right-hand block was comparatively modern, and the blinds in thewindows, with the blue smoke curling up from the chimneys, showed thatthis was where the family resided. Some scaffolding had been erectedagainst the end wall, and the stone-work had been broken into, butthere were no signs of any workmen at the moment of our visit. Holmeswalked slowly up and down the ill-trimmed lawn, and examined with deepattention the outsides of the windows.

+ +

“This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep, thecentre one to your sister’s, and the one next to the main building toDr. Roylott’s chamber?”

+ +

“Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one.”

+ +

“Pending the alterations, as I understand. By-the-way, there does notseem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end wall.”

+ +

“There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me from myroom.”

+ +

“Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow wingruns the corridor from which these three rooms open. There are windowsin it, of course?”

+ +

“Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for any one to pass through.”

+ +

“As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms were unapproachablefrom that side. Now, would you have the kindness to go into your roomand bar your shutters.”

+ +

Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination throughthe open window, endeavored in every way to force the shutter open,but without success. There was no slit through which a knife could bepassed to raise the bar. Then with his lens he tested the hinges, butthey were of solid iron, built firmly into the massive masonry. “Hum!”said he, scratching his chin in some perplexity; “my theory certainlypresents some difficulties. No one could pass these shutters if theywere bolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws any light upon thematter.”

+ +

A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from which thethree bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the third chamber,so we passed at once to the second, that in which Miss Stoner was nowsleeping, and in which her sister had met with her fate. It was ahomely little room, with a low ceiling and a gaping fireplace, afterthe fashion of old country-houses. A brown chest of drawers stoodin one corner, a narrow white-counterpaned bed in another, and adressing-table on the left-hand side of the window. These articles,with two small wicker-work chairs, made up all the furniture in theroom, save for a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boardsround and the panelling of the walls were of brown, worm-eaten oak, soold and discolored that it may have dated from the original building ofthe house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner and sat silent,while his eyes travelled round and round and up and down, taking inevery detail of the apartment.

+ +

“Where does that bell communicate with?” he asked, at last, pointing toa thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed, the tassel actuallylying upon the pillow.

+ +

“It goes to the house-keeper’s room.”

+ +

“It looks newer than the other things?”

+ +

“Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago.”

+ +

“Your sister asked for it, I suppose?”

+ +

“No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what wewanted for ourselves.”

+ +

“Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there. Youwill excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as to thisfloor.” He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in his hand,and crawled swiftly backward and forward, examining minutely the cracksbetween the boards. Then he did the same with the wood-work with whichthe chamber was panelled. Finally he walked over to the bed, and spentsome time in staring at it, and in running his eye up and down thewall. Finally he took the bell-rope in his hand and gave it a brisk tug.

+ +

“Why, it’s a dummy,” said he.

+ +

“Won’t it ring?”

+ +

“No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting. Youcan see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where the littleopening for the ventilator is.”

+ +

“How very absurd! I never noticed that before.”

+ +

“Very strange!” muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. “There are one ortwo very singular points about this room. For example, what a fool abuilder must be to open a ventilator into another room, when, with thesame trouble, he might have communicated with the outside air!”

+ +

“That is also quite modern,” said the lady.

+ +

“Done about the same time as the bell-rope?” remarked Holmes.

+ +

“Yes, there were several little changes carried out about that time.”

+ +

“They seem to have been of a most interesting character—dummybell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With yourpermission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches into theinner apartment.”

+ +

Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s chamber was larger than that of hisstep-daughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a small woodenshelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an arm-chairbeside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a round table,and a large iron safe were the principal things which met the eye.Holmes walked slowly round and examined each and all of them with thekeenest interest.

+ +

“What’s in here?” he asked, tapping the safe.

+ +

“My step-father’s business papers.”

+ +

“Oh! you have seen inside, then?”

+ +

“Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of papers.”

+ +

“There isn’t a cat in it, for example?”

+ +

“No. What a strange idea!”

+ +

“Well, look at this!” He took up a small saucer of milk which stood onthe top of it.

+ +

“No; we don’t keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon.”

+ +

“Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet asaucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I daresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine.” He squatteddown in front of the wooden chair, and examined the seat of it with thegreatest attention.

+ +

“Thank you. That is quite settled,” said he, rising and putting hislens in his pocket. “Hello! Here is something interesting!”

+ +

The object which had caught his eye was a small dog-lash hung on onecorner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself, and tiedso as to make a loop of whip-cord.

+ +

“What do you make of that, Watson?”

+ +

“It’s a common enough lash. But I don’t know why it should be tied.”

+ +

“That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it’s a wicked world,and when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worst ofall. I think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, and with yourpermission we shall walk out upon the lawn.”

+ +

I had never seen my friend’s face so grim or his brow so dark as itwas when we turned from the scene of this investigation. We had walkedseveral times up and down the lawn, neither Miss Stoner nor myselfliking to break in upon his thoughts before he roused himself from hisreverie.

+ +

“It is very essential, Miss Stoner,” said he, “that you shouldabsolutely follow my advice in every respect.”

+ +

“I shall most certainly do so.”

+ +

“The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may dependupon your compliance.”

+ +

“I assure you that I am in your hands.”

+ +

“In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night in yourroom.”

+ +

Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment.

+ +

“Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the villageinn over there?”

+ +

“Yes, that is the ‘Crown.’”

+ +

“Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?”

+ +

“Certainly.”

+ +

“You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a headache,when your step-father comes back. Then when you hear him retire forthe night, you must open the shutters of your window, undo the hasp,put your lamp there as a signal to us, and then withdraw quietly witheverything which you are likely to want into the room which you used tooccupy. I have no doubt that, in spite of the repairs, you could managethere for one night.”

+ +

“Oh yes, easily.”

+ +

“The rest you will leave in our hands.”

+ +

“But what will you do?”

+ +

“We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigate thecause of this noise which has disturbed you.”

+ +

“I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind,” saidMiss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion’s sleeve.

+ +

“Perhaps I have.”

+ +

“Then for pity’s sake tell me what was the cause of my sister’s death.”

+ +

“I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak.”

+ +

“You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and if shedied from some sudden fright.”

+ +

[Illustration: “‘GOOD-BYE, AND BE BRAVE’”]

+ +

“No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some moretangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you, for if Dr.Roylott returned and saw us, our journey would be in vain. Good-bye,and be brave, for if you will do what I have told you, you may restassured that we shall soon drive away the dangers that threaten you.”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom andsitting-room at the “Crown Inn.” They were on the upper floor, andfrom our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and of theinhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw Dr. GrimesbyRoylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside the little figureof the lad who drove him. The boy had some slight difficulty in undoingthe heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of the doctor’svoice, and saw the fury with which he shook his clinched fists at him.The trap drove on, and a few minutes later we saw a sudden light springup among the trees as the lamp was lit in one of the sitting-rooms.

+ +

“Do you know, Watson,” said Holmes, as we sat together in the gatheringdarkness, “I have really some scruples as to taking you to-night. Thereis a distinct element of danger.”

+ +

“Can I be of assistance?”

+ +

“Your presence might be invaluable.”

+ +

“Then I shall certainly come.”

+ +

“It is very kind of you.”

+ +

“You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these rooms thanwas visible to me.”

+ +

“No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine thatyou saw all that I did.”

+ +

“I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose thatcould answer I confess is more than I can imagine.”

+ +

“You saw the ventilator, too?”

+ +

“Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to havea small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a rat couldhardly pass through.”

+ +

“I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to StokeMoran.”

+ +

“My dear Holmes!”

+ +

“Oh yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her sistercould smell Dr. Roylott’s cigar. Now, of course that suggested at oncethat there must be a communication between the two rooms. It could onlybe a small one, or it would have been remarked upon at the coroner’sinquiry. I deduced a ventilator.”

+ +

“But what harm can there be in that?”

+ +

“Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A ventilatoris made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed dies. Doesnot that strike you?”

+ +

“I cannot as yet see any connection.”

+ +

“Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?”

+ +

“No.”

+ +

“It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened like thatbefore?”

+ +

“I cannot say that I have.”

+ +

“The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the samerelative position to the ventilator and to the rope—for so we may callit, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull.”

+ +

“Holmes,” I cried, “I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. We areonly just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible crime.”

+ +

“Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong, he isthe first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. Palmer andPritchard were among the heads of their profession. This man strikeseven deeper, but I think, Watson, that we shall be able to strikedeeper still. But we shall have horrors enough before the night isover; for goodness’ sake let us have a quiet pipe, and turn our mindsfor a few hours to something more cheerful.”

+ +

* * * * *

+ +

About nine o’clock the light among the trees was extinguished, and allwas dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours passed slowlyaway, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of eleven, a singlebright light shone out right in front of us.

+ +

“That is our signal,” said Holmes, springing to his feet; “it comesfrom the middle window.”

+ +

As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord, explainingthat we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance, and that it waspossible that we might spend the night there. A moment later we wereout on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in our faces, and one yellowlight twinkling in front of us through the gloom to guide us on oursombre errand.

+ +

There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepairedbreaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among the trees,we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about to enter through thewindow, when out from a clump of laurel bushes there darted what seemedto be a hideous and distorted child, who threw itself upon the grasswith writhing limbs, and then ran swiftly across the lawn into thedarkness.

+ +

“My God!” I whispered; “did you see it?”

+ +

Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a viceupon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh, and puthis lips to my ear.

+ +

“It is a nice household,” he murmured. “That is the baboon.”

+ +

I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected. There wasa cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders at anymoment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, after followingHolmes’s example and slipping off my shoes, I found myself inside thebedroom. My companion noiselessly closed the shutters, moved the lamponto the table, and cast his eyes round the room. All was as we hadseen it in the daytime. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet ofhis hand, he whispered into my ear again so gently that it was all thatI could do to distinguish the words:

+ +

“The least sound would be fatal to our plans.”

+ +

I nodded to show that I had heard.

+ +

“We must sit without light. He would see it through the ventilator.”

+ +

I nodded again.

+ +

“Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your pistolready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of the bed, andyou in that chair.”

+ +

I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.

+ +

Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon the bedbeside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the stump of a candle.Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left in darkness.

+ +

How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a sound,not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my companionsat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same state of nervoustension in which I was myself. The shutters cut off the least rayof light, and we waited in absolute darkness. From outside came theoccasional cry of a night-bird, and once at our very window a longdrawn cat-like whine, which told us that the cheetah was indeed atliberty. Far away we could hear the deep tones of the parish clock,which boomed out every quarter of an hour. How long they seemed, thosequarters! Twelve struck, and one and two and three, and still we satwaiting silently for whatever might befall.

+ +

Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the directionof the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was succeeded bya strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Some one in the nextroom had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle sound of movement, andthen all was silent once more, though the smell grew stronger. For halfan hour I sat with straining ears. Then suddenly another sound becameaudible—a very gentle, soothing sound, like that of a small jet ofsteam escaping continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it,Holmes sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously withhis cane at the bell-pull.

+ +

“You see it, Watson?” he yelled. “You see it?”

+ +

But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I hearda low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my weary eyesmade it impossible for me to tell what it was at which my friend lashedso savagely. I could, however, see that his face was deadly pale, andfilled with horror and loathing.

+ +

He had ceased to strike, and was gazing up at the ventilator, whensuddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most horriblecry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder and louder, ahoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled in the one dreadfulshriek. They say that away down in the village, and even in the distantparsonage, that cry raised the sleepers from their beds. It struck coldto our hearts, and I stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until thelast echoes of it had died away into the silence from which it rose.

+ +

“What can it mean?” I gasped.

+ +

“It means that it is all over,” Holmes answered. “And perhaps, afterall, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will enter Dr.Roylott’s room.”

+ +

With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the corridor.Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply from within.Then he turned the handle and entered, I at his heels, with the cockedpistol in my hand.

+ +

It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood adark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant beamof light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar. Beside thistable, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott, clad in a longgray dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding beneath, and his feetthrust into red heelless Turkish slippers. Across his lap lay the shortstock with the long lash which we had noticed during the day. His chinwas cocked upward and his eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stareat the corner of the ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellowband, with brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly roundhis head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion.

+ +

“The band! the speckled band!” whispered Holmes.

+ +

I took a step forward. In an instant his strange head-gear beganto move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squatdiamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent.

+ +

“It is a swamp adder!” cried Holmes; “the deadliest snake in India. Hehas died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence does, in truth,recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which hedigs for another. Let us thrust this creature back into its den, andwe can then remove Miss Stoner to some place of shelter, and let thecounty police know what has happened.”

+ +

As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead man’s lap, andthrowing the noose round the reptile’s neck, he drew it from its horridperch, and carrying it at arm’s length, threw it into the iron safe,which he closed upon it.

+ +

* * * * *

+ +

Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of StokeMoran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a narrative which hasalready run to too great a length, by telling how we broke the sad newsto the terrified girl, how we conveyed her by the morning train to thecare of her good aunt at Harrow, of how the slow process of officialinquiry came to the conclusion that the doctor met his fate whileindiscreetly playing with a dangerous pet. The little which I had yetto learn of the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelledback next day.

+ +

“I had,” said he, “come to an entirely erroneous conclusion, whichshows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason frominsufficient data. The presence of the gypsies, and the use of theword ‘band,’ which was used by the poor girl, no doubt to explain theappearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse of by the light ofher match, were sufficient to put me upon an entirely wrong scent. Ican only claim the merit that I instantly reconsidered my positionwhen, however, it became clear to me that whatever danger threatenedan occupant of the room could not come either from the window or thedoor. My attention was speedily drawn, as I have already remarked toyou, to this ventilator, and to the bell-rope which hung down to thebed. The discovery that this was a dummy, and that the bed was clampedto the floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the rope wasthere as bridge for something passing through the hole, and comingto the bed. The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me, and whenI coupled it with my knowledge that the doctor was furnished with asupply of creatures from India, I felt that I was probably on the righttrack. The idea of using a form of poison which could not possibly bediscovered by any chemical test was just such a one as would occur to aclever and ruthless man who had had an Eastern training. The rapiditywith which such a poison would take effect would also, from his pointof view, be an advantage. It would be a sharp-eyed coroner, indeed, whocould distinguish the two little dark punctures which would show wherethe poison fangs had done their work. Then I thought of the whistle. Ofcourse he must recall the snake before the morning light revealed it tothe victim. He had trained it, probably by the use of the milk whichwe saw, to return to him when summoned. He would put it through thisventilator at the hour that he thought best, with the certainty that itwould crawl down the rope and land on the bed. It might or might notbite the occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, butsooner or later she must fall a victim.

+ +

“I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered his room.An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in the habit ofstanding on it, which of course would be necessary in order that heshould reach the ventilator. The sight of the safe, the saucer of milk,and the loop of whip-cord were enough to finally dispel any doubtswhich may have remained. The metallic clang heard by Miss Stoner wasobviously caused by her step-father hastily closing the door of hissafe upon its terrible occupant. Having once made up my mind, you knowthe steps which I took in order to put the matter to the proof. Iheard the creature hiss, as I have no doubt that you did also, and Iinstantly lit the light and attacked it.”

+ +

“With the result of driving it through the ventilator.”

+ +

“And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master at theother side. Some of the blows of my cane came home, and roused itssnakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person it saw. In thisway I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby Roylott’sdeath, and I cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon myconscience.”

+======= THE_ADVENTURE_OF_THE_SPECKLED_BAND @@ -582,6 +1100,7 @@

THE_ADVENTURE_OF_THE_SPECKLED_BAND

“With_the_result_of_driving_it_through_the_ventilator.”

“And_also_with_the_result_of_causing_it_to_turn_upon_its_master_at_theother_side._Some_of_the_blows_of_my_cane_came_home,_and_roused_itssnakish_temper,_so_that_it_flew_upon_the_first_person_it_saw._In_thisway_I_am_no_doubt_indirectly_responsible_for_Dr._Grimesby_Roylott’sdeath,_and_I_cannot_say_that_it_is_likely_to_weigh_very_heavily_upon_myconscience.”

+>>>>>>> 5092fc77a613991eb73dad800f2cb3d6697ccacc diff --git a/dist/The_Naval_Treaty.html b/dist/The_Naval_Treaty.html index 2d2da55..a5764af 100644 --- a/dist/The_Naval_Treaty.html +++ b/dist/The_Naval_Treaty.html @@ -3,6 +3,768 @@ +<<<<<<< HEAD + The Naval Treaty + + + + + +

The Naval Treaty

+

The July which immediately succeeded my marriage was madememorable by three cases of interest, in which I had theprivilege of being associated with Sherlock Holmes and ofstudying his methods. I find them recorded in my notes under theheadings of “The Adventure of the Second Stain,” “The Adventureof the Naval Treaty,” and “The Adventure of the Tired Captain.”The first of these, however, deals with interest of suchimportance and implicates so many of the first families in thekingdom that for many years it will be impossible to make itpublic. No case, however, in which Holmes was engaged has everillustrated the value of his analytical methods so clearly or hasimpressed those who were associated with him so deeply. I stillretain an almost verbatim report of the interview in which hedemonstrated the true facts of the case to Monsieur Dubuque ofthe Paris police, and Fritz von Waldbaum, the well-knownspecialist of Dantzig, both of whom had wasted their energiesupon what proved to be side-issues. The new century will havecome, however, before the story can be safely told. Meanwhile Ipass on to the second on my list, which promised also at one timeto be of national importance, and was marked by several incidentswhich give it a quite unique character.

+ +

During my school-days I had been intimately associated with a ladnamed Percy Phelps, who was of much the same age as myself,though he was two classes ahead of me. He was a very brilliantboy, and carried away every prize which the school had to offer,finished his exploits by winning a scholarship which sent him onto continue his triumphant career at Cambridge. He was, Iremember, extremely well connected, and even when we were alllittle boys together we knew that his mother’s brother was LordHoldhurst, the great conservative politician. This gaudyrelationship did him little good at school. On the contrary, itseemed rather a piquant thing to us to chevy him about theplayground and hit him over the shins with a wicket. But it wasanother thing when he came out into the world. I heard vaguelythat his abilities and the influences which he commanded had wonhim a good position at the Foreign Office, and then he passedcompletely out of my mind until the following letter recalled hisexistence:

+ +

Briarbrae, Woking. My dear Watson,—I have no doubt that you can remember “Tadpole” Phelps, who was in the fifth form when you were in the third. It is possible even that you may have heard that through my uncle’s influence I obtained a good appointment at the Foreign Office, and that I was in a situation of trust and honour until a horrible misfortune came suddenly to blast my career. There is no use writing of the details of that dreadful event. In the event of your acceding to my request it is probable that I shall have to narrate them to you. I have only just recovered from nine weeks of brain-fever, and am still exceedingly weak. Do you think that you could bring your friend Mr. Holmes down to see me? I should like to have his opinion of the case, though the authorities assure me that nothing more can be done. Do try to bring him down, and as soon as possible. Every minute seems an hour while I live in this state of horrible suspense. Assure him that if I have not asked his advice sooner it was not because I did not appreciate his talents, but because I have been off my head ever since the blow fell. Now I am clear again, though I dare not think of it too much for fear of a relapse. I am still so weak that I have to write, as you see, by dictating. Do try to bring him.

+ +

Your old schoolfellow,Percy Phelps.

+ +

There was something that touched me as I read this letter,something pitiable in the reiterated appeals to bring Holmes. Somoved was I that even had it been a difficult matter I shouldhave tried it, but of course I knew well that Holmes loved hisart, so that he was ever as ready to bring his aid as his clientcould be to receive it. My wife agreed with me that not a momentshould be lost in laying the matter before him, and so within anhour of breakfast-time I found myself back once more in the oldrooms in Baker Street.

+ +

Holmes was seated at his side-table clad in his dressing-gown,and working hard over a chemical investigation. A large curvedretort was boiling furiously in the bluish flame of a Bunsenburner, and the distilled drops were condensing into a two-litremeasure. My friend hardly glanced up as I entered, and I, seeingthat his investigation must be of importance, seated myself in anarmchair and waited. He dipped into this bottle or that, drawingout a few drops of each with his glass pipette, and finallybrought a test-tube containing a solution over to the table. Inhis right hand he held a slip of litmus-paper.

+ +

“You come at a crisis, Watson,” said he. “If this paper remainsblue, all is well. If it turns red, it means a man’s life.” Hedipped it into the test-tube and it flushed at once into a dull,dirty crimson. “Hum! I thought as much!” he cried. “I will be atyour service in an instant, Watson. You will find tobacco in thePersian slipper.” He turned to his desk and scribbled off severaltelegrams, which were handed over to the page-boy. Then he threwhimself down into the chair opposite, and drew up his knees untilhis fingers clasped round his long, thin shins.

+ +

“A very commonplace little murder,” said he. “You’ve gotsomething better, I fancy. You are the stormy petrel of crime,Watson. What is it?”

+ +

I handed him the letter, which he read with the most concentratedattention.

+ +

“It does not tell us very much, does it?” he remarked, as hehanded it back to me.

+ +

“Hardly anything.”

+ +

“And yet the writing is of interest.”

+ +

“But the writing is not his own.”

+ +

“Precisely. It is a woman’s.”

+ +

“A man’s surely,” I cried.

+ +

“No, a woman’s, and a woman of rare character. You see, at thecommencement of an investigation it is something to know thatyour client is in close contact with some one who, for good orevil, has an exceptional nature. My interest is already awakenedin the case. If you are ready we will start at once for Woking,and see this diplomatist who is in such evil case, and the ladyto whom he dictates his letters.”

+ +

We were fortunate enough to catch an early train at Waterloo, andin a little under an hour we found ourselves among the fir-woodsand the heather of Woking. Briarbrae proved to be a largedetached house standing in extensive grounds within a fewminutes’ walk of the station. On sending in our cards we wereshown into an elegantly appointed drawing-room, where we werejoined in a few minutes by a rather stout man who received uswith much hospitality. His age may have been nearer forty thanthirty, but his cheeks were so ruddy and his eyes so merry thathe still conveyed the impression of a plump and mischievous boy.

+ +

“I am so glad that you have come,” said he, shaking our handswith effusion. “Percy has been inquiring for you all morning. Ah,poor old chap, he clings to any straw! His father and his motherasked me to see you, for the mere mention of the subject is verypainful to them.”

+ +

“We have had no details yet,” observed Holmes. “I perceive thatyou are not yourself a member of the family.”

+ +

Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then, glancing down, hebegan to laugh.

+ +

“Of course you saw the ‘J.H.’ monogram on my locket,” said he.“For a moment I thought you had done something clever. JosephHarrison is my name, and as Percy is to marry my sister Annie Ishall at least be a relation by marriage. You will find my sisterin his room, for she has nursed him hand-and-foot this two monthsback. Perhaps we’d better go in at once, for I know how impatienthe is.”

+ +

The chamber in which we were shown was on the same floor as thedrawing-room. It was furnished partly as a sitting and partly asa bedroom, with flowers arranged daintily in every nook andcorner. A young man, very pale and worn, was lying upon a sofanear the open window, through which came the rich scent of thegarden and the balmy summer air. A woman was sitting beside him,who rose as we entered.

+ +

“Shall I leave, Percy?” she asked.

+ +

He clutched her hand to detain her. “How are you, Watson?” saidhe, cordially. “I should never have known you under thatmoustache, and I daresay you would not be prepared to swear tome. This I presume is your celebrated friend, Mr. SherlockHolmes?”

+ +

I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down. The stoutyoung man had left us, but his sister still remained with herhand in that of the invalid. She was a striking-looking woman, alittle short and thick for symmetry, but with a beautiful olivecomplexion, large, dark, Italian eyes, and a wealth of deep blackhair. Her rich tints made the white face of her companion themore worn and haggard by the contrast.

+ +

“I won’t waste your time,” said he, raising himself upon thesofa. “I’ll plunge into the matter without further preamble. Iwas a happy and successful man, Mr. Holmes, and on the eve ofbeing married, when a sudden and dreadful misfortune wrecked allmy prospects in life.

+ +

“I was, as Watson may have told you, in the Foreign Office, andthrough the influences of my uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I roserapidly to a responsible position. When my uncle became foreignminister in this administration he gave me several missions oftrust, and as I always brought them to a successful conclusion,he came at last to have the utmost confidence in my ability andtact.

+ +

“Nearly ten weeks ago—to be more accurate, on the 23rd of May—hecalled me into his private room, and, after complimenting me onthe good work which I had done, he informed me that he had a newcommission of trust for me to execute.

+ +

“‘This,’ said he, taking a grey roll of paper from his bureau,‘is the original of that secret treaty between England and Italyof which, I regret to say, some rumours have already got into thepublic press. It is of enormous importance that nothing furthershould leak out. The French or the Russian embassy would pay animmense sum to learn the contents of these papers. They shouldnot leave my bureau were it not that it is absolutely necessaryto have them copied. You have a desk in your office?’

+ +

“‘Yes, sir.’

+ +

“‘Then take the treaty and lock it up there. I shall givedirections that you may remain behind when the others go, so thatyou may copy it at your leisure without fear of being overlooked.When you have finished, relock both the original and the draft inthe desk, and hand them over to me personally to-morrow morning.’

+ +

“I took the papers and—”

+ +

“Excuse me an instant,” said Holmes. “Were you alone during thisconversation?”

+ +

“Absolutely.”

+ +

“In a large room?”

+ +

“Thirty feet each way.”

+ +

“In the centre?”

+ +

“Yes, about it.”

+ +

“And speaking low?”

+ +

“My uncle’s voice is always remarkably low. I hardly spoke atall.”

+ +

“Thank you,” said Holmes, shutting his eyes; “pray go on.”

+ +

“I did exactly what he indicated, and waited until the otherclerks had departed. One of them in my room, Charles Gorot, hadsome arrears of work to make up, so I left him there and went outto dine. When I returned he was gone. I was anxious to hurry mywork, for I knew that Joseph—the Mr. Harrison whom you saw justnow—was in town, and that he would travel down to Woking by theeleven o’clock train, and I wanted if possible to catch it.

+ +

“When I came to examine the treaty I saw at once that it was ofsuch importance that my uncle had been guilty of no exaggerationin what he had said. Without going into details, I may say thatit defined the position of Great Britain towards the TripleAlliance, and fore-shadowed the policy which this country wouldpursue in the event of the French fleet gaining a completeascendancy over that of Italy in the Mediterranean. The questionstreated in it were purely naval. At the end were the signaturesof the high dignitaries who had signed it. I glanced my eyes overit, and then settled down to my task of copying.

+ +

“It was a long document, written in the French language, andcontaining twenty-six separate articles. I copied as quickly as Icould, but at nine o’clock I had only done nine articles, and itseemed hopeless for me to attempt to catch my train. I wasfeeling drowsy and stupid, partly from my dinner and also fromthe effects of a long day’s work. A cup of coffee would clear mybrain. A commissionnaire remains all night in a little lodge atthe foot of the stairs, and is in the habit of making coffee athis spirit-lamp for any of the officials who may be working overtime. I rang the bell, therefore, to summon him.

+ +

“To my surprise, it was a woman who answered the summons, alarge, coarse-faced, elderly woman, in an apron. She explainedthat she was the commissionnaire’s wife, who did the charing, andI gave her the order for the coffee.

+ +

“I wrote two more articles and then, feeling more drowsy thanever, I rose and walked up and down the room to stretch my legs.My coffee had not yet come, and I wondered what the cause of thedelay could be. Opening the door, I started down the corridor tofind out. There was a straight passage, dimly lighted, which ledfrom the room in which I had been working, and was the only exitfrom it. It ended in a curving staircase, with thecommissionnaire’s lodge in the passage at the bottom. Half-waydown this staircase is a small landing, with another passagerunning into it at right angles. This second one leads by meansof a second small stair to a side door, used by servants, andalso as a short cut by clerks when coming from Charles Street.Here is a rough chart of the place.”

+ +

rough chart

+ +

“Thank you. I think that I quite follow you,” said SherlockHolmes.

+ +

“It is of the utmost importance that you should notice thispoint. I went down the stairs and into the hall, where I foundthe commissionnaire fast asleep in his box, with the kettleboiling furiously upon the spirit-lamp. I took off the kettle andblew out the lamp, for the water was spurting over the floor.Then I put out my hand and was about to shake the man, who wasstill sleeping soundly, when a bell over his head rang loudly,and he woke with a start.

+ +

“‘Mr. Phelps, sir!’ said he, looking at me in bewilderment.

+ +

“‘I came down to see if my coffee was ready.’

+ +

“‘I was boiling the kettle when I fell asleep, sir.’ He looked atme and then up at the still quivering bell with an ever-growingastonishment upon his face.

+ +

“‘If you was here, sir, then who rang the bell?’ he asked.

+ +

“‘The bell!’ I cried. ‘What bell is it?’

+ +

“‘It’s the bell of the room you were working in.’

+ +

“A cold hand seemed to close round my heart. Some one, then, wasin that room where my precious treaty lay upon the table. I ranfrantically up the stairs and along the passage. There was no onein the corridors, Mr. Holmes. There was no one in the room. Allwas exactly as I left it, save only that the papers which hadbeen committed to my care had been taken from the desk on whichthey lay. The copy was there, and the original was gone.”

+ +

Holmes sat up in his chair and rubbed his hands. I could see thatthe problem was entirely to his heart. “Pray, what did you dothen?” he murmured.

+ +

“I recognised in an instant that the thief must have come up thestairs from the side door. Of course I must have met him if hehad come the other way.”

+ +

“You were satisfied that he could not have been concealed in theroom all the time, or in the corridor which you have justdescribed as dimly lighted?”

+ +

“It is absolutely impossible. A rat could not conceal himselfeither in the room or the corridor. There is no cover at all.”

+ +

“Thank you. Pray proceed.”

+ +

“The commissionnaire, seeing by my pale face that something wasto be feared, had followed me upstairs. Now we both rushed alongthe corridor and down the steep steps which led to CharlesStreet. The door at the bottom was closed, but unlocked. We flungit open and rushed out. I can distinctly remember that as we didso there came three chimes from a neighbouring clock. It wasquarter to ten.”

+ +

“That is of enormous importance,” said Holmes, making a note uponhis shirt-cuff.

+ +

“The night was very dark, and a thin, warm rain was falling.There was no one in Charles Street, but a great traffic was goingon, as usual, in Whitehall, at the extremity. We rushed along thepavement, bare-headed as we were, and at the far corner we founda policeman standing.

+ +

“‘A robbery has been committed,’ I gasped. ‘A document of immensevalue has been stolen from the Foreign Office. Has any one passedthis way?’

+ +

“‘I have been standing here for a quarter of an hour, sir,’ saidhe; ‘only one person has passed during that time—a woman, talland elderly, with a Paisley shawl.’

+ +

“‘Ah, that is only my wife,’ cried the commissionnaire; ‘has noone else passed?’

+ +

“‘No one.’

+ +

“‘Then it must be the other way that the thief took,’ cried thefellow, tugging at my sleeve.

+ +

“‘But I was not satisfied, and the attempts which he made to drawme away increased my suspicions.

+ +

“‘Which way did the woman go?’ I cried.

+ +

“‘I don’t know, sir. I noticed her pass, but I had no specialreason for watching her. She seemed to be in a hurry.’

+ +

“‘How long ago was it?’

+ +

“‘Oh, not very many minutes.’

+ +

“‘Within the last five?’

+ +

“‘Well, it could not be more than five.’

+ +

“‘You’re only wasting your time, sir, and every minute now is ofimportance,’ cried the commissionnaire; ‘take my word for it thatmy old woman has nothing to do with it, and come down to theother end of the street. Well, if you won’t, I will.’ And withthat he rushed off in the other direction.

+ +

“But I was after him in an instant and caught him by the sleeve.

+ +

“‘Where do you live?’ said I.

+ +

“‘16 Ivy Lane, Brixton,’ he answered. ‘But don’t let yourself bedrawn away upon a false scent, Mr. Phelps. Come to the other endof the street and let us see if we can hear of anything.’

+ +

“Nothing was to be lost by following his advice. With thepoliceman we both hurried down, but only to find the street fullof traffic, many people coming and going, but all only too eagerto get to a place of safety upon so wet a night. There was nolounger who could tell us who had passed.

+ +

“Then we returned to the office, and searched the stairs and thepassage without result. The corridor which led to the room waslaid down with a kind of creamy linoleum which shows animpression very easily. We examined it very carefully, but foundno outline of any footmark.”

+ +

“Had it been raining all evening?”

+ +

“Since about seven.”

+ +

“How is it, then, that the woman who came into the room aboutnine left no traces with her muddy boots?”

+ +

“I am glad you raised the point. It occurred to me at the time.The charwomen are in the habit of taking off their boots at thecommissionnaire’s office, and putting on list slippers.”

+ +

“That is very clear. There were no marks, then, though the nightwas a wet one? The chain of events is certainly one ofextraordinary interest. What did you do next?

+ +

“We examined the room also. There is no possibility of a secretdoor, and the windows are quite thirty feet from the ground. Bothof them were fastened on the inside. The carpet prevents anypossibility of a trap-door, and the ceiling is of the ordinarywhitewashed kind. I will pledge my life that whoever stole mypapers could only have come through the door.”

+ +

“How about the fireplace?”

+ +

“They use none. There is a stove. The bell-rope hangs from thewire just to the right of my desk. Whoever rang it must have comeright up to the desk to do it. But why should any criminal wishto ring the bell? It is a most insoluble mystery.”

+ +

“Certainly the incident was unusual. What were your next steps?You examined the room, I presume, to see if the intruder had leftany traces—any cigar-end or dropped glove or hairpin or othertrifle?”

+ +

“There was nothing of the sort.”

+ +

“No smell?”

+ +

“Well, we never thought of that.”

+ +

“Ah, a scent of tobacco would have been worth a great deal to usin such an investigation.”

+ +

“I never smoke myself, so I think I should have observed it ifthere had been any smell of tobacco. There was absolutely no clueof any kind. The only tangible fact was that thecommissionnaire’s wife—Mrs. Tangey was the name—had hurried outof the place. He could give no explanation save that it was aboutthe time when the woman always went home. The policeman and Iagreed that our best plan would be to seize the woman before shecould get rid of the papers, presuming that she had them.

+ +

“The alarm had reached Scotland Yard by this time, and Mr.Forbes, the detective, came round at once and took up the casewith a great deal of energy. We hired a hansom, and in half anhour we were at the address which had been given to us. A youngwoman opened the door, who proved to be Mrs. Tangey’s eldestdaughter. Her mother had not come back yet, and we were showninto the front room to wait.

+ +

“About ten minutes later a knock came at the door, and here wemade the one serious mistake for which I blame myself. Instead ofopening the door ourselves, we allowed the girl to do so. Weheard her say, ‘Mother, there are two men in the house waiting tosee you,’ and an instant afterwards we heard the patter of feetrushing down the passage. Forbes flung open the door, and we bothran into the back room or kitchen, but the woman had got therebefore us. She stared at us with defiant eyes, and then, suddenlyrecognising me, an expression of absolute astonishment came overher face.

+ +

“‘Why, if it isn’t Mr. Phelps, of the office!’ she cried.

+ +

“‘Come, come, who did you think we were when you ran away fromus?’ asked my companion.

+ +

“‘I thought you were the brokers,’ said she, ‘we have had sometrouble with a tradesman.’

+ +

“‘That’s not quite good enough,’ answered Forbes. ‘We have reasonto believe that you have taken a paper of importance from theForeign Office, and that you ran in here to dispose of it. Youmust come back with us to Scotland Yard to be searched.’

+ +

“It was in vain that she protested and resisted. A four-wheelerwas brought, and we all three drove back in it. We had first madean examination of the kitchen, and especially of the kitchenfire, to see whether she might have made away with the papersduring the instant that she was alone. There were no signs,however, of any ashes or scraps. When we reached Scotland Yardshe was handed over at once to the female searcher. I waited inan agony of suspense until she came back with her report. Therewere no signs of the papers.

+ +

“Then for the first time the horror of my situation came in itsfull force. Hitherto I had been acting, and action had numbedthought. I had been so confident of regaining the treaty at oncethat I had not dared to think of what would be the consequence ifI failed to do so. But now there was nothing more to be done, andI had leisure to realize my position. It was horrible. Watsonthere would tell you that I was a nervous, sensitive boy atschool. It is my nature. I thought of my uncle and of hiscolleagues in the Cabinet, of the shame which I had brought uponhim, upon myself, upon every one connected with me. What though Iwas the victim of an extraordinary accident? No allowance is madefor accidents where diplomatic interests are at stake. I wasruined, shamefully, hopelessly ruined. I don’t know what I did. Ifancy I must have made a scene. I have a dim recollection of agroup of officials who crowded round me, endeavouring to sootheme. One of them drove down with me to Waterloo, and saw me intothe Woking train. I believe that he would have come all the wayhad it not been that Dr. Ferrier, who lives near me, was goingdown by that very train. The doctor most kindly took charge ofme, and it was well he did so, for I had a fit in the station,and before we reached home I was practically a raving maniac.

+ +

“You can imagine the state of things here when they were rousedfrom their beds by the doctor’s ringing and found me in thiscondition. Poor Annie here and my mother were broken-hearted. Dr.Ferrier had just heard enough from the detective at the stationto be able to give an idea of what had happened, and his storydid not mend matters. It was evident to all that I was in for along illness, so Joseph was bundled out of this cheery bedroom,and it was turned into a sick-room for me. Here I have lain, Mr.Holmes, for over nine weeks, unconscious, and raving withbrain-fever. If it had not been for Miss Harrison here and forthe doctor’s care I should not be speaking to you now. She hasnursed me by day and a hired nurse has looked after me by night,for in my mad fits I was capable of anything. Slowly my reasonhas cleared, but it is only during the last three days that mymemory has quite returned. Sometimes I wish that it never had.The first thing that I did was to wire to Mr. Forbes, who had thecase in hand. He came out, and assures me that, though everythinghas been done, no trace of a clue has been discovered. Thecommissionnaire and his wife have been examined in every waywithout any light being thrown upon the matter. The suspicions ofthe police then rested upon young Gorot, who, as you mayremember, stayed over time in the office that night. Hisremaining behind and his French name were really the only twopoints which could suggest suspicion; but, as a matter of fact, Idid not begin work until he had gone, and his people are ofHuguenot extraction, but as English in sympathy and tradition asyou and I are. Nothing was found to implicate him in any way, andthere the matter dropped. I turn to you, Mr. Holmes, asabsolutely my last hope. If you fail me, then my honour as wellas my position are forever forfeited.”

+ +

The invalid sank back upon his cushions, tired out by this longrecital, while his nurse poured him out a glass of somestimulating medicine. Holmes sat silently, with his head thrownback and his eyes closed, in an attitude which might seemlistless to a stranger, but which I knew betokened the mostintense self-absorption.

+ +

“You statement has been so explicit,” said he at last, “that youhave really left me very few questions to ask. There is one ofthe very utmost importance, however. Did you tell any one thatyou had this special task to perform?”

+ +

“No one.”

+ +

“Not Miss Harrison here, for example?”

+ +

“No. I had not been back to Woking between getting the order andexecuting the commission.”

+ +

“And none of your people had by chance been to see you?”

+ +

“None.”

+ +

“Did any of them know their way about in the office?”

+ +

“Oh, yes, all of them had been shown over it.”

+ +

“Still, of course, if you said nothing to any one about thetreaty these inquiries are irrelevant.”

+ +

“I said nothing.”

+ +

“Do you know anything of the commissionnaire?”

+ +

“Nothing except that he is an old soldier.”

+ +

“What regiment?”

+ +

“Oh, I have heard—Coldstream Guards.”

+ +

“Thank you. I have no doubt I can get details from Forbes. Theauthorities are excellent at amassing facts, though they do notalways use them to advantage. What a lovely thing a rose is!”

+ +

He walked past the couch to the open window, and held up thedrooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down at the dainty blendof crimson and green. It was a new phase of his character to me,for I had never before seen him show any keen interest in naturalobjects.

+ +

“There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as inreligion,” said he, leaning with his back against the shutters.“It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Ourhighest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me torest in the flowers. All other things, our powers our desires,our food, are all really necessary for our existence in the firstinstance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and its colour arean embellishment of life, not a condition of it. It is onlygoodness which gives extras, and so I say again that we have muchto hope from the flowers.”

+ +

Percy Phelps and his nurse looked at Holmes during thisdemonstration with surprise and a good deal of disappointmentwritten upon their faces. He had fallen into a reverie, with themoss-rose between his fingers. It had lasted some minutes beforethe young lady broke in upon it.

+ +

“Do you see any prospect of solving this mystery, Mr. Holmes?”she asked, with a touch of asperity in her voice.

+ +

“Oh, the mystery!” he answered, coming back with a start to therealities of life. “Well, it would be absurd to deny that thecase is a very abstruse and complicated one, but I can promiseyou that I will look into the matter and let you know any pointswhich may strike me.”

+ +

“Do you see any clue?”

+ +

“You have furnished me with seven, but, of course, I must testthem before I can pronounce upon their value.”

+ +

“You suspect some one?”

+ +

“I suspect myself.”

+ +

“What!”

+ +

“Of coming to conclusions too rapidly.”

+ +

“Then go to London and test your conclusions.”

+ +

“Your advice is very excellent, Miss Harrison,” said Holmes,rising. “I think, Watson, we cannot do better. Do not allowyourself to indulge in false hopes, Mr. Phelps. The affair is avery tangled one.”

+ +

“I shall be in a fever until I see you again,” cried thediplomatist.

+ +

“Well, I’ll come out by the same train to-morrow, though it’smore than likely that my report will be a negative one.”

+ +

“God bless you for promising to come,” cried our client. “Itgives me fresh life to know that something is being done. By theway, I have had a letter from Lord Holdhurst.”

+ +

“Ha! What did he say?”

+ +

“He was cold, but not harsh. I daresay my severe illnessprevented him from being that. He repeated that the matter was ofthe utmost importance, and added that no steps would be takenabout my future—by which he means, of course, my dismissal—untilmy health was restored and I had an opportunity of repairing mymisfortune.”

+ +

“Well, that was reasonable and considerate,” said Holmes. “Come,Watson, for we have a good day’s work before us in town.”

+ +

Mr. Joseph Harrison drove us down to the station, and we weresoon whirling up in a Portsmouth train. Holmes was sunk inprofound thought, and hardly opened his mouth until we had passedClapham Junction.

+ +

“It’s a very cheery thing to come into London by any of theselines which run high, and allow you to look down upon the houseslike this.”

+ +

I thought he was joking, for the view was sordid enough, but hesoon explained himself.

+ +

“Look at those big, isolated clumps of building rising up abovethe slates, like brick islands in a lead-coloured sea.”

+ +

“The board-schools.”

+ +

“Light-houses, my boy! Beacons of the future! Capsules withhundreds of bright little seeds in each, out of which will springthe wise, better England of the future. I suppose that man Phelpsdoes not drink?”

+ +

“I should not think so.”

+ +

“Nor should I, but we are bound to take every possibility intoaccount. The poor devil has certainly got himself into very deepwater, and it’s a question whether we shall ever be able to gethim ashore. What did you think of Miss Harrison?”

+ +

“A girl of strong character.”

+ +

“Yes, but she is a good sort, or I am mistaken. She and herbrother are the only children of an iron-master somewhere upNorthumberland way. He got engaged to her when traveling lastwinter, and she came down to be introduced to his people, withher brother as escort. Then came the smash, and she stayed on tonurse her lover, while brother Joseph, finding himself prettysnug, stayed on too. I’ve been making a few independentinquiries, you see. But to-day must be a day of inquiries.”

+ +

“My practice—” I began.

+ +

“Oh, if you find your own cases more interesting than mine—” saidHolmes, with some asperity.

+ +

“I was going to say that my practice could get along very wellfor a day or two, since it is the slackest time in the year.”

+ +

“Excellent,” said he, recovering his good-humour. “Then we’lllook into this matter together. I think that we should begin byseeing Forbes. He can probably tell us all the details we wantuntil we know from what side the case is to be approached.”

+ +

“You said you had a clue?”

+ +

“Well, we have several, but we can only test their value byfurther inquiry. The most difficult crime to track is the onewhich is purposeless. Now this is not purposeless. Who is it whoprofits by it? There is the French ambassador, there is theRussian, there is whoever might sell it to either of these, andthere is Lord Holdhurst.”

+ +

“Lord Holdhurst!”

+ +

“Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman might find himselfin a position where he was not sorry to have such a documentaccidentally destroyed.”

+ +

“Not a statesman with the honourable record of Lord Holdhurst?”

+ +

“It is a possibility and we cannot afford to disregard it. Weshall see the noble lord to-day and find out if he can tell usanything. Meanwhile I have already set inquiries on foot.”

+ +

“Already?”

+ +

“Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to every evening paper inLondon. This advertisement will appear in each of them.”

+ +

He handed over a sheet torn from a note-book. On it was scribbledin pencil:

+ +

“£10 Reward.—The number of the cab which dropped a fare at orabout the door of the Foreign Office in Charles Street at quarterto ten in the evening of May 23rd. Apply 221B, Baker Street.”

+ +

“You are confident that the thief came in a cab?”

+ +

“If not, there is no harm done. But if Mr. Phelps is correct instating that there is no hiding-place either in the room or thecorridors, then the person must have come from outside. If hecame from outside on so wet a night, and yet left no trace ofdamp upon the linoleum, which was examined within a few minutesof his passing, then it is exceeding probable that he came in acab. Yes, I think that we may safely deduce a cab.”

+ +

“It sounds plausible.”

+ +

“That is one of the clues of which I spoke. It may lead us tosomething. And then, of course, there is the bell—which is themost distinctive feature of the case. Why should the bell ring?Was it the thief who did it out of bravado? Or was it some onewho was with the thief who did it in order to prevent the crime?Or was it an accident? Or was it—?” He sank back into the stateof intense and silent thought from which he had emerged; but itseemed to me, accustomed as I was to his every mood, that somenew possibility had dawned suddenly upon him.

+ +

It was twenty past three when we reached our terminus, and aftera hasty luncheon at the buffet we pushed on at once to ScotlandYard. Holmes had already wired to Forbes, and we found himwaiting to receive us—a small, foxy man with a sharp but by nomeans amiable expression. He was decidedly frigid in his mannerto us, especially when he heard the errand upon which we hadcome.

+ +

“I’ve heard of your methods before now, Mr. Holmes,” said he,tartly. “You are ready enough to use all the information that thepolice can lay at your disposal, and then you try to finish thecase yourself and bring discredit on them.”

+ +

“On the contrary,” said Holmes, “out of my last fifty-three casesmy name has only appeared in four, and the police have had allthe credit in forty-nine. I don’t blame you for not knowing this,for you are young and inexperienced, but if you wish to get on inyour new duties you will work with me and not against me.”

+ +

“I’d be very glad of a hint or two,” said the detective, changinghis manner. “I’ve certainly had no credit from the case so far.”

+ +

“What steps have you taken?”

+ +

“Tangey, the commissionnaire, has been shadowed. He left theGuards with a good character and we can find nothing against him.His wife is a bad lot, though. I fancy she knows more about thisthan appears.”

+ +

“Have you shadowed her?”

+ +

“We have set one of our women on to her. Mrs. Tangey drinks, andour woman has been with her twice when she was well on, but shecould get nothing out of her.”

+ +

“I understand that they have had brokers in the house?”

+ +

“Yes, but they were paid off.”

+ +

“Where did the money come from?”

+ +

“That was all right. His pension was due. They have not shown anysign of being in funds.”

+ +

“What explanation did she give of having answered the bell whenMr. Phelps rang for the coffee?”

+ +

“She said that her husband was very tired and she wished torelieve him.”

+ +

“Well, certainly that would agree with his being found a littlelater asleep in his chair. There is nothing against them then butthe woman’s character. Did you ask her why she hurried away thatnight? Her haste attracted the attention of the policeconstable.”

+ +

“She was later than usual and wanted to get home.”

+ +

“Did you point out to her that you and Mr. Phelps, who started atleast twenty minutes after her, got home before her?”

+ +

“She explains that by the difference between a ‘bus and ahansom.”

+ +

“Did she make it clear why, on reaching her house, she ran intothe back kitchen?”

+ +

“Because she had the money there with which to pay off thebrokers.”

+ +

“She has at least an answer for everything. Did you ask herwhether in leaving she met any one or saw any one loitering aboutCharles Street?”

+ +

“She saw no one but the constable.”

+ +

“Well, you seem to have cross-examined her pretty thoroughly.What else have you done?”

+ +

“The clerk Gorot has been shadowed all these nine weeks, butwithout result. We can show nothing against him.”

+ +

“Anything else?”

+ +

“Well, we have nothing else to go upon—no evidence of any kind.”

+ +

“Have you formed a theory about how that bell rang?”

+ +

“Well, I must confess that it beats me. It was a cool hand,whoever it was, to go and give the alarm like that.”

+ +

“Yes, it was a queer thing to do. Many thanks to you for what youhave told me. If I can put the man into your hands you shall hearfrom me. Come along, Watson.”

+ +

“Where are we going to now?” I asked, as we left the office.

+ +

“We are now going to interview Lord Holdhurst, the cabinetminister and future premier of England.”

+ +

We were fortunate in finding that Lord Holdhurst was still in hischambers in Downing Street, and on Holmes sending in his card wewere instantly shown up. The statesman received us with thatold-fashioned courtesy for which he is remarkable, and seated uson the two luxuriant lounges on either side of the fireplace.Standing on the rug between us, with his slight, tall figure, hissharp features, thoughtful face, and curling hair prematurelytinged with grey, he seemed to represent that not too commontype, a nobleman who is in truth noble.

+ +

“Your name is very familiar to me, Mr. Holmes,” said he, smiling.“And, of course, I cannot pretend to be ignorant of the object ofyour visit. There has only been one occurrence in these officeswhich could call for your attention. In whose interest are youacting, may I ask?”

+ +

“In that of Mr. Percy Phelps,” answered Holmes.

+ +

“Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can understand that our kinshipmakes it the more impossible for me to screen him in any way. Ifear that the incident must have a very prejudicial effect uponhis career.”

+ +

“But if the document is found?”

+ +

“Ah, that, of course, would be different.”

+ +

“I had one or two questions which I wished to ask you, LordHoldhurst.”

+ +

“I shall be happy to give you any information in my power.”

+ +

“Was it in this room that you gave your instructions as to thecopying of the document?”

+ +

“It was.”

+ +

“Then you could hardly have been overheard?”

+ +

“It is out of the question.”

+ +

“Did you ever mention to any one that it was your intention togive any one the treaty to be copied?”

+ +

“Never.”

+ +

“You are certain of that?”

+ +

“Absolutely.”

+ +

“Well, since you never said so, and Mr. Phelps never said so, andnobody else knew anything of the matter, then the thief’spresence in the room was purely accidental. He saw his chance andhe took it.”

+ +

The statesman smiled. “You take me out of my province there,”said he.

+ +

Holmes considered for a moment. “There is another very importantpoint which I wish to discuss with you,” said he. “You feared, asI understand, that very grave results might follow from thedetails of this treaty becoming known.”

+ +

A shadow passed over the expressive face of the statesman. “Verygrave results indeed.”

+ +

“And have they occurred?”

+ +

“Not yet.”

+ +

“If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or RussianForeign Office, you would expect to hear of it?”

+ +

“I should,” said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.

+ +

“Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and nothing has beenheard, it is not unfair to suppose that for some reason thetreaty has not reached them.”

+ +

Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.

+ +

“We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took thetreaty in order to frame it and hang it up.”

+ +

“Perhaps he is waiting for a better price.”

+ +

“If he waits a little longer he will get no price at all. Thetreaty will cease to be secret in a few months.”

+ +

“That is most important,” said Holmes. “Of course, it is apossible supposition that the thief has had a sudden illness—”

+ +

“An attack of brain-fever, for example?” asked the statesman,flashing a swift glance at him.

+ +

“I did not say so,” said Holmes, imperturbably. “And now, LordHoldhurst, we have already taken up too much of your valuabletime, and we shall wish you good-day.”

+ +

“Every success to your investigation, be the criminal who itmay,” answered the nobleman, as he bowed us out the door.

+ +

“He’s a fine fellow,” said Holmes, as we came out into Whitehall.“But he has a struggle to keep up his position. He is far fromrich and has many calls. You noticed, of course, that his bootshad been resoled. Now, Watson, I won’t detain you from yourlegitimate work any longer. I shall do nothing more to-day,unless I have an answer to my cab advertisement. But I should beextremely obliged to you if you would come down with me to Wokingto-morrow, by the same train which we took yesterday.”

+ +

I met him accordingly next morning and we travelled down toWoking together. He had had no answer to his advertisement, hesaid, and no fresh light had been thrown upon the case. He had,when he so willed it, the utter immobility of countenance of ared Indian, and I could not gather from his appearance whether hewas satisfied or not with the position of the case. Hisconversation, I remember, was about the Bertillon system ofmeasurements, and he expressed his enthusiastic admiration of theFrench savant.

+ +

We found our client still under the charge of his devoted nurse,but looking considerably better than before. He rose from thesofa and greeted us without difficulty when we entered.

+ +

“Any news?” he asked, eagerly.

+ +

“My report, as I expected, is a negative one,” said Holmes. “Ihave seen Forbes, and I have seen your uncle, and I have set oneor two trains of inquiry upon foot which may lead to something.”

+ +

“You have not lost heart, then?”

+ +

“By no means.”

+ +

“God bless you for saying that!” cried Miss Harrison. “If we keepour courage and our patience the truth must come out.”

+ +

“We have more to tell you than you have for us,” said Phelps,reseating himself upon the couch.

+ +

“I hoped you might have something.”

+ +

“Yes, we have had an adventure during the night, and one whichmight have proved to be a serious one.” His expression grew verygrave as he spoke, and a look of something akin to fear sprang upin his eyes. “Do you know,” said he, “that I begin to believethat I am the unconscious centre of some monstrous conspiracy,and that my life is aimed at as well as my honour?”

+ +

“Ah!” cried Holmes.

+ +

“It sounds incredible, for I have not, as far as I know, an enemyin the world. Yet from last night’s experience I can come to noother conclusion.”

+ +

“Pray let me hear it.”

+ +

“You must know that last night was the very first night that Ihave ever slept without a nurse in the room. I was so much betterthat I thought I could dispense with one. I had a night-lightburning, however. Well, about two in the morning I had sunk intoa light sleep when I was suddenly aroused by a slight noise. Itwas like the sound which a mouse makes when it is gnawing aplank, and I lay listening to it for some time under theimpression that it must come from that cause. Then it grewlouder, and suddenly there came from the window a sharp metallicsnick. I sat up in amazement. There could be no doubt what thesounds were now. The first ones had been caused by some oneforcing an instrument through the slit between the sashes, andthe second by the catch being pressed back.

+ +

“There was a pause then for about ten minutes, as if the personwere waiting to see whether the noise had awakened me. Then Iheard a gentle creaking as the window was very slowly opened. Icould stand it no longer, for my nerves are not what they used tobe. I sprang out of bed and flung open the shutters. A man wascrouching at the window. I could see little of him, for he wasgone like a flash. He was wrapped in some sort of cloak whichcame across the lower part of his face. One thing only I am sureof, and that is that he had some weapon in his hand. It looked tome like a long knife. I distinctly saw the gleam of it as heturned to run.”

+ +

“This is most interesting,” said Holmes. “Pray what did you dothen?”

+ +

“I should have followed him through the open window if I had beenstronger. As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. Ittook me some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen andthe servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and thatbrought Joseph down, and he roused the others. Joseph and thegroom found marks on the bed outside the window, but the weatherhas been so dry lately that they found it hopeless to follow thetrail across the grass. There’s a place, however, on the woodenfence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, asif some one had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail indoing so. I have said nothing to the local police yet, for Ithought I had best have your opinion first.”

+ +

This tale of our client’s appeared to have an extraordinaryeffect upon Sherlock Holmes. He rose from his chair and pacedabout the room in uncontrollable excitement.

+ +

“Misfortunes never come single,” said Phelps, smiling, though itwas evident that his adventure had somewhat shaken him.

+ +

“You have certainly had your share,” said Holmes. “Do you thinkyou could walk round the house with me?”

+ +

“Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come,too.”

+ +

“And I also,” said Miss Harrison.

+ +

“I am afraid not,” said Holmes, shaking his head. “I think I mustask you to remain sitting exactly where you are.”

+ +

The young lady resumed her seat with an air of displeasure. Herbrother, however, had joined us and we set off all four together.We passed round the lawn to the outside of the youngdiplomatist’s window. There were, as he had said, marks upon thebed, but they were hopelessly blurred and vague. Holmes stoppedover them for an instant, and then rose shrugging his shoulders.

+ +

“I don’t think any one could make much of this,” said he. “Let usgo round the house and see why this particular room was chosen bythe burglar. I should have thought those larger windows of thedrawing-room and dining-room would have had more attractions forhim.”

+ +

“They are more visible from the road,” suggested Mr. JosephHarrison.

+ +

“Ah, yes, of course. There is a door here which he might haveattempted. What is it for?”

+ +

“It is the side entrance for trades-people. Of course it islocked at night.”

+ +

“Have you ever had an alarm like this before?”

+ +

“Never,” said our client.

+ +

“Do you keep plate in the house, or anything to attractburglars?”

+ +

“Nothing of value.”

+ +

Holmes strolled round the house with his hands in his pockets anda negligent air which was unusual with him.

+ +

“By the way,” said he to Joseph Harrison, “you found some place,I understand, where the fellow scaled the fence. Let us have alook at that!”

+ +

The plump young man led us to a spot where the top of one of thewooden rails had been cracked. A small fragment of the wood washanging down. Holmes pulled it off and examined it critically.

+ +

“Do you think that was done last night? It looks rather old, doesit not?”

+ +

“Well, possibly so.”

+ +

“There are no marks of any one jumping down upon the other side.No, I fancy we shall get no help here. Let us go back to thebedroom and talk the matter over.”

+ +

Percy Phelps was walking very slowly, leaning upon the arm of hisfuture brother-in-law. Holmes walked swiftly across the lawn, andwe were at the open window of the bedroom long before the otherscame up.

+ +

“Miss Harrison,” said Holmes, speaking with the utmost intensityof manner, “you must stay where you are all day. Let nothingprevent you from staying where you are all day. It is of theutmost importance.”

+ +

“Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes,” said the girl inastonishment.

+ +

“When you go to bed lock the door of this room on the outside andkeep the key. Promise to do this.”

+ +

“But Percy?”

+ +

“He will come to London with us.”

+ +

“And am I to remain here?”

+ +

“It is for his sake. You can serve him. Quick! Promise!”

+ +

She gave a quick nod of assent just as the other two came up.

+ +

“Why do you sit moping there, Annie?” cried her brother. “Comeout into the sunshine!”

+ +

“No, thank you, Joseph. I have a slight headache and this room isdeliciously cool and soothing.”

+ +

“What do you propose now, Mr. Holmes?” asked our client.

+ +

“Well, in investigating this minor affair we must not lose sightof our main inquiry. It would be a very great help to me if youwould come up to London with us.”

+ +

“At once?”

+ +

“Well, as soon as you conveniently can. Say in an hour.”

+ +

“I feel quite strong enough, if I can really be of any help.”

+ +

“The greatest possible.”

+ +

“Perhaps you would like me to stay there to-night?”

+ +

“I was just going to propose it.”

+ +

“Then, if my friend of the night comes to revisit me, he willfind the bird flown. We are all in your hands, Mr. Holmes, andyou must tell us exactly what you would like done. Perhaps youwould prefer that Joseph came with us so as to look after me?”

+ +

“Oh, no; my friend Watson is a medical man, you know, and he’lllook after you. We’ll have our lunch here, if you will permit us,and then we shall all three set off for town together.”

+ +

It was arranged as he suggested, though Miss Harrison excusedherself from leaving the bedroom, in accordance with Holmes’ssuggestion. What the object of my friend’s manœuvres was I couldnot conceive, unless it were to keep the lady away from Phelps,who, rejoiced by his returning health and by the prospect ofaction, lunched with us in the dining-room. Holmes had a stillmore startling surprise for us, however, for, after accompanyingus down to the station and seeing us into our carriage, he calmlyannounced that he had no intention of leaving Woking.

+ +

“There are one or two small points which I should desire to clearup before I go,” said he. “Your absence, Mr. Phelps, will in someways rather assist me. Watson, when you reach London you wouldoblige me by driving at once to Baker Street with our friendhere, and remaining with him until I see you again. It isfortunate that you are old schoolfellows, as you must have muchto talk over. Mr. Phelps can have the spare bedroom to-night, andI will be with you in time for breakfast, for there is a trainwhich will take me into Waterloo at eight.”

+ +

“But how about our investigation in London?” asked Phelps,ruefully.

+ +

“We can do that to-morrow. I think that just at present I can beof more immediate use here.”

+ +

“You might tell them at Briarbrae that I hope to be backto-morrow night,” cried Phelps, as we began to move from theplatform.

+ +

“I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae,” answered Holmes, andwaved his hand to us cheerily as we shot out from the station.

+ +

Phelps and I talked it over on our journey, but neither of uscould devise a satisfactory reason for this new development.

+ +

“I suppose he wants to find out some clue as to the burglary lastnight, if a burglar it was. For myself, I don’t believe it was anordinary thief.”

+ +

“What is your own idea, then?”

+ +

“Upon my word, you may put it down to my weak nerves or not, butI believe there is some deep political intrigue going on aroundme, and that for some reason that passes my understanding my lifeis aimed at by the conspirators. It sounds high-flown and absurd,but consider the facts! Why should a thief try to break in at abedroom window, where there could be no hope of any plunder, andwhy should he come with a long knife in his hand?”

+ +

“You are sure it was not a house-breaker’s jimmy?”

+ +

“Oh, no, it was a knife. I saw the flash of the blade quitedistinctly.”

+ +

“But why on earth should you be pursued with such animosity?”

+ +

“Ah, that is the question.”

+ +

“Well, if Holmes takes the same view, that would account for hisaction, would it not? Presuming that your theory is correct, ifhe can lay his hands upon the man who threatened you last nighthe will have gone a long way towards finding who took the navaltreaty. It is absurd to suppose that you have two enemies, one ofwhom robs you, while the other threatens your life.”

+ +

“But Holmes said that he was not going to Briarbrae.”

+ +

“I have known him for some time,” said I, “but I never knew himdo anything yet without a very good reason,” and with that ourconversation drifted off on to other topics.

+ +

But it was a weary day for me. Phelps was still weak after hislong illness, and his misfortune made him querulous and nervous.In vain I endeavoured to interest him in Afghanistan, in India,in social questions, in anything which might take his mind out ofthe groove. He would always come back to his lost treaty,wondering, guessing, speculating, as to what Holmes was doing,what steps Lord Holdhurst was taking, what news we should have inthe morning. As the evening wore on his excitement became quitepainful.

+ +

“You have implicit faith in Holmes?” he asked.

+ +

“I have seen him do some remarkable things.”

+ +

“But he never brought light into anything quite so dark as this?”

+ +

“Oh, yes; I have known him solve questions which presented fewerclues than yours.”

+ +

“But not where such large interests are at stake?”

+ +

“I don’t know that. To my certain knowledge he has acted onbehalf of three of the reigning houses of Europe in very vitalmatters.”

+ +

“But you know him well, Watson. He is such an inscrutable fellowthat I never quite know what to make of him. Do you think he ishopeful? Do you think he expects to make a success of it?”

+ +

“He has said nothing.”

+ +

“That is a bad sign.”

+ +

“On the contrary, I have noticed that when he is off the trail hegenerally says so. It is when he is on a scent and is not quiteabsolutely sure yet that it is the right one that he is mosttaciturn. Now, my dear fellow, we can’t help matters by makingourselves nervous about them, so let me implore you to go to bedand so be fresh for whatever may await us to-morrow.”

+ +

I was able at last to persuade my companion to take my advice,though I knew from his excited manner that there was not muchhope of sleep for him. Indeed, his mood was infectious, for I laytossing half the night myself, brooding over this strangeproblem, and inventing a hundred theories, each of which was moreimpossible than the last. Why had Holmes remained at Woking? Whyhad he asked Miss Harrison to remain in the sick-room all day?Why had he been so careful not to inform the people at Briarbraethat he intended to remain near them? I cudgelled my brains untilI fell asleep in the endeavour to find some explanation whichwould cover all these facts.

+ +

It was seven o’clock when I awoke, and I set off at once forPhelps’s room, to find him haggard and spent after a sleeplessnight. His first question was whether Holmes had arrived yet.

+ +

“He’ll be here when he promised,” said I, “and not an instantsooner or later.”

+ +

And my words were true, for shortly after eight a hansom dashedup to the door and our friend got out of it. Standing in thewindow we saw that his left hand was swathed in a bandage andthat his face was very grim and pale. He entered the house, butit was some little time before he came upstairs.

+ +

“He looks like a beaten man,” cried Phelps.

+ +

I was forced to confess that he was right. “After all,” said I,“the clue of the matter lies probably here in town.”

+ +

Phelps gave a groan.

+ +

“I don’t know how it is,” said he, “but I had hoped for so muchfrom his return. But surely his hand was not tied up like thatyesterday. What can be the matter?”

+ +

“You are not wounded, Holmes?” I asked, as my friend entered theroom.

+ +

“Tut, it is only a scratch through my own clumsiness,” heanswered, nodding his good-mornings to us. “This case of yours,Mr. Phelps, is certainly one of the darkest which I have everinvestigated.”

+ +

“I feared that you would find it beyond you.”

+ +

“It has been a most remarkable experience.”

+ +

“That bandage tells of adventures,” said I. “Won’t you tell uswhat has happened?”

+ +

“After breakfast, my dear Watson. Remember that I have breathedthirty miles of Surrey air this morning. I suppose that there hasbeen no answer from my cabman advertisement? Well, well, wecannot expect to score every time.”

+ +

The table was all laid, and just as I was about to ring Mrs.Hudson entered with the tea and coffee. A few minutes later shebrought in three covers, and we all drew up to the table, Holmesravenous, I curious, and Phelps in the gloomiest state ofdepression.

+ +

“Mrs. Hudson has risen to the occasion,” said Holmes, uncoveringa dish of curried chicken. “Her cuisine is a little limited, butshe has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotch-woman. What haveyou here, Watson?”

+ +

“Ham and eggs,” I answered.

+ +

“Good! What are you going to take, Mr. Phelps—curried fowl oreggs, or will you help yourself?”

+ +

“Thank you. I can eat nothing,” said Phelps.

+ +

“Oh, come! Try the dish before you.”

+ +

“Thank you, I would really rather not.”

+ +

“Well, then,” said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle, “I supposethat you have no objection to helping me?”

+ +

Phelps raised the cover, and as he did so he uttered a scream,and sat there staring with a face as white as the plate uponwhich he looked. Across the centre of it was lying a littlecylinder of blue-grey paper. He caught it up, devoured it withhis eyes, and then danced madly about the room, pressing it tohis bosom and shrieking out in his delight. Then he fell backinto an armchair so limp and exhausted with his own emotions thatwe had to pour brandy down his throat to keep him from fainting.

+ +

“There! there!” said Holmes, soothing, patting him upon theshoulder. “It was too bad to spring it on you like this, butWatson here will tell you that I never can resist a touch of thedramatic.”

+ +

Phelps seized his hand and kissed it. “God bless you!” he cried.“You have saved my honour.”

+ +

“Well, my own was at stake, you know,” said Holmes. “I assure youit is just as hateful to me to fail in a case as it can be to youto blunder over a commission.”

+ +

Phelps thrust away the precious document into the innermostpocket of his coat.

+ +

“I have not the heart to interrupt your breakfast any further,and yet I am dying to know how you got it and where it was.”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes swallowed a cup of coffee, and turned hisattention to the ham and eggs. Then he rose, lit his pipe, andsettled himself down into his chair.

+ +

“I’ll tell you what I did first, and how I came to do itafterwards,” said he. “After leaving you at the station I wentfor a charming walk through some admirable Surrey scenery to apretty little village called Ripley, where I had my tea at aninn, and took the precaution of filling my flask and of putting apaper of sandwiches in my pocket. There I remained until evening,when I set off for Woking again, and found myself in thehigh-road outside Briarbrae just after sunset.

+ +

“Well, I waited until the road was clear—it is never a veryfrequented one at any time, I fancy—and then I clambered over thefence into the grounds.”

+ +

“Surely the gate was open!” ejaculated Phelps.

+ +

“Yes, but I have a peculiar taste in these matters. I chose theplace where the three fir-trees stand, and behind their screen Igot over without the least chance of any one in the house beingable to see me. I crouched down among the bushes on the otherside, and crawled from one to the other—witness the disreputablestate of my trouser knees—until I had reached the clump ofrhododendrons just opposite to your bedroom window. There Isquatted down and awaited developments.

+ +

“The blind was not down in your room, and I could see MissHarrison sitting there reading by the table. It was quarter-pastten when she closed her book, fastened the shutters, and retired.

+ +

“I heard her shut the door, and felt quite sure that she hadturned the key in the lock.”

+ +

“The key!” ejaculated Phelps.

+ +

“Yes; I had given Miss Harrison instructions to lock the door onthe outside and take the key with her when she went to bed. Shecarried out every one of my injunctions to the letter, andcertainly without her co-operation you would not have that paperin your coat-pocket. She departed then and the lights went out,and I was left squatting in the rhododendron-bush.

+ +

“The night was fine, but still it was a very weary vigil. Ofcourse it has the sort of excitement about it that the sportsmanfeels when he lies beside the water-course and waits for the biggame. It was very long, though—almost as long, Watson, as whenyou and I waited in that deadly room when we looked into thelittle problem of the Speckled Band. There was a church-clockdown at Woking which struck the quarters, and I thought more thanonce that it had stopped. At last however about two in themorning, I suddenly heard the gentle sound of a bolt being pushedback and the creaking of a key. A moment later the servants’ doorwas opened, and Mr. Joseph Harrison stepped out into themoonlight.”

+ +

“Joseph!” ejaculated Phelps.

+ +

“He was bare-headed, but he had a black coat thrown over hisshoulder so that he could conceal his face in an instant if therewere any alarm. He walked on tiptoe under the shadow of the wall,and when he reached the window he worked a long-bladed knifethrough the sash and pushed back the catch. Then he flung openthe window, and putting his knife through the crack in theshutters, he thrust the bar up and swung them open.

+ +

“From where I lay I had a perfect view of the inside of the roomand of every one of his movements. He lit the two candles whichstood upon the mantelpiece, and then he proceeded to turn backthe corner of the carpet in the neighbourhood of the door.Presently he stopped and picked out a square piece of board, suchas is usually left to enable plumbers to get at the joints of thegas-pipes. This one covered, as a matter of fact, the T jointwhich gives off the pipe which supplies the kitchen underneath.Out of this hiding-place he drew that little cylinder of paper,pushed down the board, rearranged the carpet, blew out thecandles, and walked straight into my arms as I stood waiting forhim outside the window.

+ +

“Well, he has rather more viciousness than I gave him credit for,has Master Joseph. He flew at me with his knife, and I had tograsp him twice, and got a cut over the knuckles, before I hadthe upper hand of him. He looked murder out of the only eye hecould see with when we had finished, but he listened to reasonand gave up the papers. Having got them I let my man go, but Iwired full particulars to Forbes this morning. If he is quickenough to catch his bird, well and good. But if, as I shrewdlysuspect, he finds the nest empty before he gets there, why, allthe better for the government. I fancy that Lord Holdhurst forone, and Mr. Percy Phelps for another, would very much ratherthat the affair never got as far as a police-court.

+ +

“My God!” gasped our client. “Do you tell me that during theselong ten weeks of agony the stolen papers were within the veryroom with me all the time?”

+ +

“So it was.”

+ +

“And Joseph! Joseph a villain and a thief!”

+ +

“Hum! I am afraid Joseph’s character is a rather deeper and moredangerous one than one might judge from his appearance. From whatI have heard from him this morning, I gather that he has lostheavily in dabbling with stocks, and that he is ready to doanything on earth to better his fortunes. Being an absolutelyselfish man, when a chance presented itself he did not alloweither his sister’s happiness or your reputation to hold hishand.”

+ +

Percy Phelps sank back in his chair. “My head whirls,” said he.“Your words have dazed me.”

+ +

“The principal difficulty in your case,” remarked Holmes, in hisdidactic fashion, “lay in the fact of there being too muchevidence. What was vital was overlaid and hidden by what wasirrelevant. Of all the facts which were presented to us we had topick just those which we deemed to be essential, and then piecethem together in their order, so as to reconstruct this veryremarkable chain of events. I had already begun to suspectJoseph, from the fact that you had intended to travel home withhim that night, and that therefore it was a likely enough thingthat he should call for you, knowing the Foreign Office well,upon his way. When I heard that some one had been so anxious toget into the bedroom, in which no one but Joseph could haveconcealed anything—you told us in your narrative how you hadturned Joseph out when you arrived with the doctor—my suspicionsall changed to certainties, especially as the attempt was made onthe first night upon which the nurse was absent, showing that theintruder was well acquainted with the ways of the house.”

+ +

“How blind I have been!”

+ +

“The facts of the case, as far as I have worked them out, arethese: this Joseph Harrison entered the office through theCharles Street door, and knowing his way he walked straight intoyour room the instant after you left it. Finding no one there hepromptly rang the bell, and at the instant that he did so hiseyes caught the paper upon the table. A glance showed him thatchance had put in his way a State document of immense value, andin an instant he had thrust it into his pocket and was gone. Afew minutes elapsed, as you remember, before the sleepycommissionnaire drew your attention to the bell, and those werejust enough to give the thief time to make his escape.

+ +

“He made his way to Woking by the first train, and havingexamined his booty and assured himself that it really was ofimmense value, he had concealed it in what he thought was a verysafe place, with the intention of taking it out again in a day ortwo, and carrying it to the French embassy, or wherever hethought that a long price was to be had. Then came your suddenreturn. He, without a moment’s warning, was bundled out of hisroom, and from that time onward there were always at least two ofyou there to prevent him from regaining his treasure. Thesituation to him must have been a maddening one. But at last hethought he saw his chance. He tried to steal in, but was baffledby your wakefulness. You remember that you did not take yourusual draught that night.”

+ +

“I remember.”

+ +

“I fancy that he had taken steps to make that draughtefficacious, and that he quite relied upon your beingunconscious. Of course, I understood that he would repeat theattempt whenever it could be done with safety. Your leaving theroom gave him the chance he wanted. I kept Miss Harrison in itall day so that he might not anticipate us. Then, having givenhim the idea that the coast was clear, I kept guard as I havedescribed. I already knew that the papers were probably in theroom, but I had no desire to rip up all the planking and skirtingin search of them. I let him take them, therefore, from thehiding-place, and so saved myself an infinity of trouble. Isthere any other point which I can make clear?”

+ +

“Why did he try the window on the first occasion,” I asked, “whenhe might have entered by the door?”

+ +

“In reaching the door he would have to pass seven bedrooms. Onthe other hand, he could get out on to the lawn with ease.Anything else?”

+ +

“You do not think,” asked Phelps, “that he had any murderousintention? The knife was only meant as a tool.”

+ +

“It may be so,” answered Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. “I canonly say for certain that Mr. Joseph Harrison is a gentleman towhose mercy I should be extremely unwilling to trust.”

+======= The_Naval_Treaty @@ -826,6 +1588,7 @@

The_Naval_Treaty

“You_do_not_think,”_asked_Phelps,_“that_he_had_any_murderousintention?_The_knife_was_only_meant_as_a_tool.”

“It_may_be_so,”_answered_Holmes,_shrugging_his_shoulders._“I_canonly_say_for_certain_that_Mr._Joseph_Harrison_is_a_gentleman_towhose_mercy_I_should_be_extremely_unwilling_to_trust.”

+>>>>>>> 5092fc77a613991eb73dad800f2cb3d6697ccacc diff --git a/dist/The_Red_Headed_League.html b/dist/The_Red_Headed_League.html index 46404c0..9a893ee 100644 --- a/dist/The_Red_Headed_League.html +++ b/dist/The_Red_Headed_League.html @@ -3,6 +3,450 @@ +<<<<<<< HEAD + The Red Headed League + + + + + +

The Red Headed League

+

I had called upon my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, one day in the autumnof last year, and found him in deep conversation with a very stout,florid-faced, elderly gentleman, with fiery red hair. With an apologyfor my intrusion, I was about to withdraw, when Holmes pulled meabruptly into the room and closed the door behind me.

+ +

“You could not possibly have come at a better time, my dear Watson,” hesaid, cordially.

+ +

“I was afraid that you were engaged.”

+ +

“So I am. Very much so.”

+ +

“Then I can wait in the next room.”

+ +

“Not at all. This gentleman, Mr. Wilson, has been my partner and helperin many of my most successful cases, and I have no doubt that he willbe of the utmost use to me in yours also.”

+ +

The stout gentleman half-rose from his chair and gave a bob ofgreeting, with a quick, little, questioning glance from his small,fat-encircled eyes.

+ +

“Try the settee,” said Holmes, relapsing into his arm-chair and puttinghis finger-tips together, as was his custom when in judicial moods. “Iknow, my dear Watson, that you share my love of all that is bizarre andoutside the conventions and humdrum routine of every-day life. You haveshown your relish for it by the enthusiasm which has prompted you tochronicle, and, if you will excuse my saying so, somewhat to embellishso many of my own little adventures.”

+ +

“Your cases have indeed been of the greatest interest to me,” Iobserved.

+ +

“You will remember that I remarked the other day, just before we wentinto the very simple problem presented by Miss Mary Sutherland, thatfor strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go tolife itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of theimagination.”

+ +

“A proposition which I took the liberty of doubting.”

+ +

“You did, doctor, but none the less you must come round to my view,for otherwise I shall keep on piling fact upon fact on you, until yourreason breaks down under them and acknowledges me to be right. Now, Mr.Jabez Wilson here has been good enough to call upon me this morning,and to begin a narrative which promises to be one of the most singularwhich I have listened to for some time. You have heard me remark thatthe strangest and most unique things are very often connected not withthe larger but with the smaller crimes, and occasionally, indeed, wherethere is room for doubt whether any positive crime has been committed.As far as I have heard it is impossible for me to say whether thepresent case is an instance of crime or not, but the course of eventsis certainly among the most singular that I have ever listened to.Perhaps, Mr. Wilson, you would have the great kindness to recommenceyour narrative. I ask you, not merely because my friend Dr. Watson hasnot heard the opening part, but also because the peculiar nature of thestory makes me anxious to have every possible detail from your lips.As a rule, when I have heard some slight indication of the course ofevents, I am able to guide myself by the thousands of other similarcases which occur to my memory. In the present instance I am forced toadmit that the facts are, to the best of my belief, unique.”

+ +

The portly client puffed out his chest with an appearance of somelittle pride, and pulled a dirty and wrinkled newspaper from the insidepocket of his great-coat. As he glanced down the advertisement column,with his head thrust forward, and the paper flattened out upon hisknee, I took a good look at the man, and endeavored, after the fashionof my companion, to read the indications which might be presented byhis dress or appearance.

+ +

I did not gain very much, however, by my inspection. Our visitor boreevery mark of being an average commonplace British tradesman, obese,pompous, and slow. He wore rather baggy gray shepherd’s check trousers,a not over-clean black frock-coat, unbuttoned in the front, and a drabwaistcoat with a heavy brassy Albert chain, and a square pierced bit ofmetal dangling down as an ornament. A frayed top-hat and a faded brownovercoat with a wrinkled velvet collar lay upon a chair beside him.Altogether, look as I would, there was nothing remarkable about the mansave his blazing red head, and the expression of extreme chagrin anddiscontent upon his features.

+ +

Sherlock Holmes’s quick eye took in my occupation, and he shook hishead with a smile as he noticed my questioning glances. “Beyond theobvious facts that he has at some time done manual labor, that he takessnuff, that he is a Freemason, that he has been in China, and that hehas done a considerable amount of writing lately, I can deduce nothingelse.”

+ +

Mr. Jabez Wilson started up in his chair, with his forefinger upon thepaper, but his eyes upon my companion.

+ +

“How, in the name of good-fortune, did you know all that, Mr. Holmes?”he asked. “How did you know, for example, that I did manual labor. It’sas true as gospel, for I began as a ship’s carpenter.”

+ +

“Your hands, my dear sir. Your right hand is quite a size larger thanyour left. You have worked with it, and the muscles are more developed.”

+ +

“Well, the snuff, then, and the Freemasonry?”

+ +

“I won’t insult your intelligence by telling you how I read that,especially as, rather against the strict rules of your order, you usean arc-and-compass breastpin.”

+ +

“Ah, of course, I forgot that. But the writing?”

+ +

“What else can be indicated by that right cuff so very shiny for fiveinches, and the left one with the smooth patch near the elbow where yourest it upon the desk.”

+ +

“Well, but China?”

+ +

“The fish that you have tattooed immediately above your right wristcould only have been done in China. I have made a small study of tattoomarks, and have even contributed to the literature of the subject.That trick of staining the fishes’ scales of a delicate pink is quitepeculiar to China. When, in addition, I see a Chinese coin hanging fromyour watch-chain, the matter becomes even more simple.”

+ +

Mr. Jabez Wilson laughed heavily. “Well, I never!” said he. “I thoughtat first that you had done something clever, but I see that there wasnothing in it, after all.”

+ +

“I begin to think, Watson,” said Holmes, “that I make a mistake inexplaining. ‘Omne ignotum pro magnifico,’ you know, and my poor littlereputation, such as it is, will suffer shipwreck if I am so candid. Canyou not find the advertisement, Mr. Wilson?”

+ +

“Yes, I have got it now,” he answered, with his thick, red fingerplanted half-way down the column. “Here it is. This is what began itall. You just read it for yourself, sir.”

+ +

I took the paper from him, and read as follows:

+ +

“TO THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE: On account of the bequest of the late Ezekiah Hopkins, of Lebanon, Pa., U.S.A., there is now another vacancy open which entitles a member of the League to a salary of £4 a week for purely nominal services. All red-headed men who are sound in body and mind, and above the age of twenty-one years, are eligible. Apply in person on Monday, at eleven o’clock, to Duncan Ross, at the offices of the League, 7 Pope’s Court, Fleet Street.”

+ +

“What on earth does this mean?” I ejaculated, after I had twice readover the extraordinary announcement.

+ +

Holmes chuckled, and wriggled in his chair, as was his habit when inhigh spirits. “It is a little off the beaten track, isn’t it?” saidhe. “And now, Mr. Wilson, off you go at scratch, and tell us all aboutyourself, your household, and the effect which this advertisement hadupon your fortunes. You will first make a note, doctor, of the paperand the date.”

+ +

“It is _The Morning Chronicle_, of April 27, 1890. Just two months ago.”

+ +

“Very good. Now, Mr. Wilson?”

+ +

“Well, it is just as I have been telling you, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,”said Jabez Wilson, mopping his forehead; “I have a small pawnbroker’sbusiness at Coburg Square, near the city. It’s not a very large affair,and of late years it has not done more than just give me a living. Iused to be able to keep two assistants, but now I only keep one; and Iwould have a job to pay him, but that he is willing to come for halfwages, so as to learn the business.”

+ +

“What is the name of this obliging youth?” asked Sherlock Holmes.

+ +

“His name is Vincent Spaulding, and he’s not such a youth, either. It’shard to say his age. I should not wish a smarter assistant, Mr. Holmes;and I know very well that he could better himself, and earn twice whatI am able to give him. But, after all, if he is satisfied, why should Iput ideas in his head?”

+ +

“Why, indeed? You seem most fortunate in having an _employé_ whocomes under the full market price. It is not a common experience amongemployers in this age. I don’t know that your assistant is not asremarkable as your advertisement.”

+ +

“Oh, he has his faults, too,” said Mr. Wilson. “Never was such a fellowfor photography. Snapping away with a camera when he ought to beimproving his mind, and then diving down into the cellar like a rabbitinto its hole to develope his pictures. That is his main fault; but, onthe whole, he’s a good worker. There’s no vice in him.”

+ +

“He is still with you, I presume?”

+ +

“Yes, sir. He and a girl of fourteen, who does a bit of simple cooking,and keeps the place clean—that’s all I have in the house, for I am awidower, and never had any family. We live very quietly, sir, the threeof us; and we keep a roof over our heads, and pay our debts, if we donothing more.

+ +

“The first thing that put us out was that advertisement. Spaulding, hecame down into the office just this day eight weeks, with this verypaper in his hand, and he says:

+ +

“‘I wish to the Lord, Mr. Wilson, that I was a red-headed man.’

+ +

“‘Why that?’ I asks.

+ +

“‘Why,’ says he, ‘here’s another vacancy on the League of theRed-headed Men. It’s worth quite a little fortune to any man who getsit, and I understand that there are more vacancies than there are men,so that the trustees are at their wits’ end what to do with the money.If my hair would only change color, here’s a nice little crib all readyfor me to step into.’

+ +

“‘Why, what is it, then?’ I asked. You see, Mr. Holmes, I am a verystay-at-home man, and as my business came to me instead of my havingto go to it, I was often weeks on end without putting my foot over thedoor-mat. In that way I didn’t know much of what was going on outside,and I was always glad of a bit of news.

+ +

“‘Have you never heard of the League of the Red-headed Men?’ he asked,with his eyes open.

+ +

“‘Never.’

+ +

“‘Why, I wonder at that, for you are eligible yourself for one of thevacancies.’

+ +

“‘And what are they worth?’ I asked.

+ +

“‘Oh, merely a couple of hundred a year, but the work is slight, and itneed not interfere very much with one’s other occupations.’

+ +

“Well, you can easily think that that made me prick up my ears, for thebusiness has not been over-good for some years, and an extra couple ofhundred would have been very handy.

+ +

“‘Tell me all about it,’ said I.

+ +

“‘Well,’ said he, showing me the advertisement, ‘you can see foryourself that the League has a vacancy, and there is the addresswhere you should apply for particulars. As far as I can make out, theLeague was founded by an American millionaire, Ezekiah Hopkins, whowas very peculiar in his ways. He was himself red-headed, and he had agreat sympathy for all red-headed men; so, when he died, it was foundthat he had left his enormous fortune in the hands of trustees, withinstructions to apply the interest to the providing of easy berths tomen whose hair is of that color. From all I hear it is splendid pay,and very little to do.’

+ +

“‘But,’ said I, ‘there would be millions of red-headed men who wouldapply.’

+ +

“‘Not so many as you might think,’ he answered. ‘You see it is reallyconfined to Londoners, and to grown men. This American had started fromLondon when he was young, and he wanted to do the old town a good turn.Then, again, I have heard it is no use your applying if your hair islight red, or dark red, or anything but real bright, blazing, fieryred. Now, if you cared to apply, Mr. Wilson, you would just walk in;but perhaps it would hardly be worth your while to put yourself out ofthe way for the sake of a few hundred pounds.’

+ +

“Now, it is a fact, gentlemen, as you may see for yourselves, that myhair is of a very full and rich tint, so that it seemed to me that, ifthere was to be any competition in the matter, I stood as good a chanceas any man that I had ever met. Vincent Spaulding seemed to know somuch about it that I thought he might prove useful, so I just orderedhim to put up the shutters for the day, and to come right away with me.He was very willing to have a holiday, so we shut the business up, andstarted off for the address that was given us in the advertisement.

+ +

“I never hope to see such a sight as that again, Mr. Holmes. Fromnorth, south, east, and west every man who had a shade of red in hishair had tramped into the city to answer the advertisement. FleetStreet was choked with red-headed folk, and Pope’s Court lookedlike a coster’s orange barrow. I should not have thought there wereso many in the whole country as were brought together by that singleadvertisement. Every shade of color they were—straw, lemon, orange,brick, Irish-setter, liver, clay; but, as Spaulding said, there werenot many who had the real vivid flame-colored tint. When I saw how manywere waiting, I would have given it up in despair; but Spaulding wouldnot hear of it. How he did it I could not imagine, but he pushed andpulled and butted until he got me through the crowd, and right up tothe steps which led to the office. There was a double stream upon thestair, some going up in hope, and some coming back dejected; but wewedged in as well as we could, and soon found ourselves in the office.”

+ +

“Your experience has been a most entertaining one,” remarked Holmes, ashis client paused and refreshed his memory with a huge pinch of snuff.“Pray continue your very interesting statement.”

+ +

“There was nothing in the office but a couple of wooden chairs and adeal table, behind which sat a small man, with a head that was evenredder than mine. He said a few words to each candidate as he cameup, and then he always managed to find some fault in them which woulddisqualify them. Getting a vacancy did not seem to be such a very easymatter, after all. However, when our turn came, the little man was muchmore favorable to me than to any of the others, and he closed the dooras we entered, so that he might have a private word with us.

+ +

“‘This is Mr. Jabez Wilson,’ said my assistant, ‘and he is willing tofill a vacancy in the League.’

+ +

“‘And he is admirably suited for it,’ the other answered. ‘He has everyrequirement. I cannot recall when I have seen anything so fine.’ Hetook a step backward, cocked his head on one side, and gazed at my hairuntil I felt quite bashful. Then suddenly he plunged forward, wrung myhand, and congratulated me warmly on my success.

+ +

“‘It would be injustice to hesitate,’ said he. ‘You will, however, I amsure, excuse me for taking an obvious precaution.’ With that he seizedmy hair in both his hands, and tugged until I yelled with the pain.‘There is water in your eyes,’ said he, as he released me. ‘I perceivethat all is as it should be. But we have to be careful, for we havetwice been deceived by wigs and once by paint. I could tell you talesof cobbler’s wax which would disgust you with human nature.’ He steppedover to the window, and shouted through it at the top of his voice thatthe vacancy was filled. A groan of disappointment came up from below,and the folk all trooped away in different directions, until there wasnot a red head to be seen except my own and that of the manager.

+ +

“‘My name,’ said he, ‘is Mr. Duncan Ross, and I am myself one of thepensioners upon the fund left by our noble benefactor. Are you amarried man, Mr. Wilson? Have you a family?’

+ +

“I answered that I had not.

+ +

“His face fell immediately.

+ +

“‘Dear me!’ he said, gravely, ‘that is very serious indeed! I am sorryto hear you say that. The fund was, of course, for the propagationand spread of the red-heads as well as for their maintenance. It isexceedingly unfortunate that you should be a bachelor.’

+ +

“My face lengthened at this, Mr. Holmes, for I thought that I was notto have the vacancy after all; but, after thinking it over for a fewminutes, he said that it would be all right.

+ +

“‘In the case of another,’ said he, ‘the objection might be fatal, butwe must stretch a point in favor of a man with such a head of hair asyours. When shall you be able to enter upon your new duties?’

+ +

“‘Well, it is a little awkward, for I have a business already,’ said I.

+ +

“‘Oh, never mind about that, Mr. Wilson!’ said Vincent Spaulding. ‘Ishall be able to look after that for you.’

+ +

“‘What would be the hours?’ I asked.

+ +

“‘Ten to two.’

+ +

“Now a pawnbroker’s business is mostly done of an evening, Mr. Holmes,especially Thursday and Friday evening, which is just before pay-day;so it would suit me very well to earn a little in the mornings.Besides, I knew that my assistant was a good man, and that he would seeto anything that turned up.

+ +

“‘That would suit me very well,’ said I. ‘And the pay?’

+ +

“‘Is £4 a week.’

+ +

“‘And the work?’

+ +

“‘Is purely nominal.’

+ +

“‘What do you call purely nominal?’

+ +

“‘Well, you have to be in the office, or at least in the building, thewhole time. If you leave, you forfeit your whole position forever.The will is very clear upon that point. You don’t comply with theconditions if you budge from the office during that time.’

+ +

“‘It’s only four hours a day, and I should not think of leaving,’ saidI.

+ +

“‘No excuse will avail,’ said Mr. Duncan Ross, ‘neither sickness norbusiness nor anything else. There you must stay, or you lose yourbillet.’

+ +

“‘And the work?’

+ +

“‘Is to copy out the “Encyclopædia Britannica.” There is the firstvolume of it in that press. You must find your own ink, pens, andblotting-paper, but we provide this table and chair. Will you be readyto-morrow?’

+ +

“‘Certainly,’ I answered.

+ +

“‘Then, good-bye, Mr. Jabez Wilson, and let me congratulate you oncemore on the important position which you have been fortunate enough togain.’ He bowed me out of the room, and I went home with my assistant,hardly knowing what to say or do, I was so pleased at my own goodfortune.

+ +

“Well, I thought over the matter all day, and by evening I was inlow spirits again; for I had quite persuaded myself that the wholeaffair must be some great hoax or fraud, though what its object mightbe I could not imagine. It seemed altogether past belief that any onecould make such a will, or that they would pay such a sum for doinganything so simple as copying out the ‘Encyclopædia Britannica.’Vincent Spaulding did what he could to cheer me up, but by bedtime Ihad reasoned myself out of the whole thing. However, in the morningI determined to have a look at it anyhow, so I bought a penny bottleof ink, and with a quill-pen, and seven sheets of foolscap paper, Istarted off for Pope’s Court.

+ +

“Well, to my surprise and delight, everything was as right as possible.The table was set out ready for me, and Mr. Duncan Ross was there tosee that I got fairly to work. He started me off upon the letter A, andthen he left me; but he would drop in from time to time to see that allwas right with me. At two o’clock he bade me good-day, complimented meupon the amount that I had written, and locked the door of the officeafter me.

+ +

“This went on day after day, Mr. Holmes, and on Saturday the managercame in and planked down four golden sovereigns for my week’s work.It was the same next week, and the same the week after. Every morningI was there at ten, and every afternoon I left at two. By degrees Mr.Duncan Ross took to coming in only once of a morning, and then, aftera time, he did not come in at all. Still, of course, I never dared toleave the room for an instant, for I was not sure when he might come,and the billet was such a good one, and suited me so well, that I wouldnot risk the loss of it.

+ +

“Eight weeks passed away like this, and I had written about Abbots andArchery and Armor and Architecture and Attica, and hoped with diligencethat I might get on to the B’s before very long. It cost me somethingin foolscap, and I had pretty nearly filled a shelf with my writings.And then suddenly the whole business came to an end.”

+ +

“To an end?”

+ +

“Yes, sir. And no later than this morning. I went to my work as usualat ten o’clock, but the door was shut and locked, with a little squareof card-board hammered on to the middle of the panel with a tack. Hereit is, and you can read for yourself.”

+ +

He held up a piece of white card-board about the size of a sheet ofnote-paper. It read in this fashion:

+ +

“THE RED-HEADED LEAGUE IS DISSOLVED. _October 9, 1890._”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes and I surveyed this curt announcement and the ruefulface behind it, until the comical side of the affair so completelyovertopped every other consideration that we both burst out into a roarof laughter.

+ +

“I cannot see that there is anything very funny,” cried our client,flushing up to the roots of his flaming head. “If you can do nothingbetter than laugh at me, I can go elsewhere.”

+ +

“No, no,” cried Holmes, shoving him back into the chair from which hehad half risen. “I really wouldn’t miss your case for the world. It ismost refreshingly unusual. But there is, if you will excuse my sayingso, something just a little funny about it. Pray what steps did youtake when you found the card upon the door?”

+ +

“I was staggered, sir. I did not know what to do. Then I called atthe offices round, but none of them seemed to know anything about it.Finally, I went to the landlord, who is an accountant living on theground-floor, and I asked him if he could tell me what had become ofthe Red-headed League. He said that he had never heard of any suchbody. Then I asked him who Mr. Duncan Ross was. He answered that thename was new to him.

+ +

[Illustration: “THE DOOR WAS SHUT AND LOCKED”]

+ +

“‘Well,’ said I, ‘the gentleman at No. 4.’

+ +

“‘What, the red-headed man?’

+ +

“‘Yes.’

+ +

“‘Oh,’ said he, ‘his name was William Morris. He was a solicitor, andwas using my room as a temporary convenience until his new premiseswere ready. He moved out yesterday.’

+ +

“‘Where could I find him?’

+ +

“‘Oh, at his new offices. He did tell me the address. Yes, 17 KingEdward Street, near St. Paul’s.’

+ +

“I started off, Mr. Holmes, but when I got to that address it was amanufactory of artificial knee-caps, and no one in it had ever heard ofeither Mr. William Morris or Mr. Duncan Ross.”

+ +

“And what did you do then?” asked Holmes.

+ +

“I went home to Saxe-Coburg Square, and I took the advice of myassistant. But he could not help me in any way. He could only say thatif I waited I should hear by post. But that was not quite good enough,Mr. Holmes. I did not wish to lose such a place without a struggle, so,as I had heard that you were good enough to give advice to poor folkwho were in need of it, I came right away to you.”

+ +

“And you did very wisely,” said Holmes. “Your case is an exceedinglyremarkable one, and I shall be happy to look into it. From what youhave told me I think that it is possible that graver issues hang fromit than might at first sight appear.”

+ +

“Grave enough!” said Mr. Jabez Wilson. “Why, I have lost four pound aweek.”

+ +

“As far as you are personally concerned,” remarked Holmes, “I do notsee that you have any grievance against this extraordinary league. Onthe contrary, you are, as I understand, richer by some £30, to saynothing of the minute knowledge which you have gained on every subjectwhich comes under the letter A. You have lost nothing by them.”

+ +

“No, sir. But I want to find out about them, and who they are, and whattheir object was in playing this prank—if it was a prank—upon me. Itwas a pretty expensive joke for them, for it cost them two and thirtypounds.”

+ +

“We shall endeavor to clear up these points for you. And, first, oneor two questions, Mr. Wilson. This assistant of yours who first calledyour attention to the advertisement—how long had he been with you?”

+ +

“About a month then.”

+ +

“How did he come?”

+ +

“In answer to an advertisement.”

+ +

“Was he the only applicant?”

+ +

“No, I had a dozen.”

+ +

“Why did you pick him?”

+ +

“Because he was handy, and would come cheap.”

+ +

“At half-wages, in fact.”

+ +

“Yes.”

+ +

“What is he like, this Vincent Spaulding?”

+ +

“Small, stout-built, very quick in his ways, no hair on his face,though he’s not short of thirty. Has a white splash of acid upon hisforehead.”

+ +

Holmes sat up in his chair in considerable excitement. “I thought asmuch,” said he. “Have you ever observed that his ears are pierced forearrings?”

+ +

“Yes, sir. He told me that a gypsy had done it for him when he was alad.”

+ +

“Hum!” said Holmes, sinking back in deep thought. “He is still withyou?”

+ +

“Oh yes, sir; I have only just left him.”

+ +

“And has your business been attended to in your absence?”

+ +

“Nothing to complain of, sir. There’s never very much to do of amorning.”

+ +

“That will do, Mr. Wilson. I shall be happy to give you an opinion uponthe subject in the course of a day or two. To-day is Saturday, and Ihope that by Monday we may come to a conclusion.”

+ +

“Well, Watson,” said Holmes, when our visitor had left us, “what do youmake of it all?”

+ +

“I make nothing of it,” I answered, frankly. “It is a most mysteriousbusiness.”

+ +

“As a rule,” said Holmes, “the more bizarre a thing is the lessmysterious it proves to be. It is your commonplace, featureless crimeswhich are really puzzling, just as a commonplace face is the mostdifficult to identify. But I must be prompt over this matter.”

+ +

“What are you going to do, then?” I asked.

+ +

“To smoke,” he answered. “It is quite a three-pipe problem, and I begthat you won’t speak to me for fifty minutes.” He curled himself upin his chair, with his thin knees drawn up to his hawk-like nose, andthere he sat with his eyes closed and his black clay pipe thrusting outlike the bill of some strange bird. I had come to the conclusion thathe had dropped asleep, and indeed was nodding myself, when he suddenlysprang out of his chair with the gesture of a man who has made up hismind, and put his pipe down upon the mantel-piece.

+ +

“Sarasate plays at the St. James’s Hall this afternoon,” he remarked.“What do you think, Watson? Could your patients spare you for a fewhours?”

+ +

“I have nothing to do to-day. My practice is never very absorbing.”

+ +

“Then put on your hat and come. I am going through the city first, andwe can have some lunch on the way. I observe that there is a good dealof German music on the programme, which is rather more to my taste thanItalian or French. It is introspective, and I want to introspect. Comealong!”

+ +

We travelled by the Underground as far as Aldersgate; and a short walktook us to Saxe-Coburg Square, the scene of the singular story which wehad listened to in the morning. It was a pokey, little, shabby-genteelplace, where four lines of dingy two-storied brick houses looked outinto a small railed-in enclosure, where a lawn of weedy grass anda few clumps of faded laurel-bushes made a hard fight against asmoke-laden and uncongenial atmosphere. Three gilt balls and a brownboard with “JABEZ WILSON” in white letters, upon a cornerhouse, announced the place where our red-headed client carried on hisbusiness. Sherlock Holmes stopped in front of it with his head on oneside, and looked it all over, with his eyes shining brightly betweenpuckered lids. Then he walked slowly up the street, and then down againto the corner, still looking keenly at the houses. Finally he returnedto the pawnbroker’s, and, having thumped vigorously upon the pavementwith his stick two or three times, he went up to the door and knocked.It was instantly opened by a bright-looking, clean-shaven young fellow,who asked him to step in.

+ +

“Thank you,” said Holmes, “I only wished to ask you how you would gofrom here to the Strand.”

+ +

“Third right, fourth left,” answered the assistant, promptly, closingthe door.

+ +

“Smart fellow, that,” observed Holmes, as we walked away. “He is, in myjudgment, the fourth smartest man in London, and for daring I am notsure that he has not a claim to be third. I have known something of himbefore.”

+ +

“Evidently,” said I, “Mr. Wilson’s assistant counts for a good deal inthis mystery of the Red-headed League. I am sure that you inquired yourway merely in order that you might see him.”

+ +

“Not him.”

+ +

“What then?”

+ +

“The knees of his trousers.”

+ +

“And what did you see?”

+ +

“What I expected to see.”

+ +

“Why did you beat the pavement?”

+ +

“My dear doctor, this is a time for observation, not for talk. We arespies in an enemy’s country. We know something of Saxe-Coburg Square.Let us now explore the parts which lie behind it.”

+ +

The road in which we found ourselves as we turned round the cornerfrom the retired Saxe-Coburg Square presented as great a contrast toit as the front of a picture does to the back. It was one of the mainarteries which convey the traffic of the city to the north and west.The roadway was blocked with the immense stream of commerce flowingin a double tide inward and outward, while the foot-paths were blackwith the hurrying swarm of pedestrians. It was difficult to realizeas we looked at the line of fine shops and stately business premisesthat they really abutted on the other side upon the faded and stagnantsquare which we had just quitted.

+ +

“Let me see,” said Holmes, standing at the corner, and glancing alongthe line, “I should like just to remember the order of the houses here.It is a hobby of mine to have an exact knowledge of London. There isMortimer’s, the tobacconist, the little newspaper shop, the Coburgbranch of the City and Suburban Bank, the Vegetarian Restaurant, andMcFarlane’s carriage-building depot. That carries us right on to theother block. And now, doctor, we’ve done our work, so it’s time we hadsome play. A sandwich and a cup of coffee, and then off to violin-land,where all is sweetness and delicacy and harmony, and there are nored-headed clients to vex us with their conundrums.”

+ +

My friend was an enthusiastic musician, being himself not only avery capable performer, but a composer of no ordinary merit. All theafternoon he sat in the stalls wrapped in the most perfect happiness,gently waving his long, thin fingers in time to the music, while hisgently smiling face and his languid, dreamy eyes were as unlike thoseof Holmes, the sleuth-hound, Holmes the relentless, keen-witted,ready-handed criminal agent, as it was possible to conceive. In hissingular character the dual nature alternately asserted itself, andhis extreme exactness and astuteness represented, as I have oftenthought, the reaction against the poetic and contemplative mood whichoccasionally predominated in him. The swing of his nature took him fromextreme languor to devouring energy; and, as I knew well, he was neverso truly formidable as when, for days on end, he had been lounging inhis arm-chair amid his improvisations and his black-letter editions.Then it was that the lust of the chase would suddenly come upon him,and that his brilliant reasoning power would rise to the level ofintuition, until those who were unacquainted with his methods wouldlook askance at him as on a man whose knowledge was not that of othermortals. When I saw him that afternoon so enrapt in the music at St.James’s Hall I felt that an evil time might be coming upon those whomhe had set himself to hunt down.

+ +

“You want to go home, no doubt, doctor,” he remarked, as we emerged.

+ +

“Yes, it would be as well.”

+ +

“And I have some business to do which will take some hours. Thisbusiness at Coburg Square is serious.”

+ +

“Why serious?”

+ +

“A considerable crime is in contemplation. I have every reason tobelieve that we shall be in time to stop it. But to-day being Saturdayrather complicates matters. I shall want your help to-night.”

+ +

“At what time?”

+ +

“Ten will be early enough.”

+ +

“I shall be at Baker Street at ten.”

+ +

“Very well. And, I say, doctor, there may be some little danger, sokindly put your army revolver in your pocket.” He waved his hand,turned on his heel, and disappeared in an instant among the crowd.

+ +

[Illustration: “ALL AFTERNOON HE SAT IN THE STALLS”]

+ +

I trust that I am not more dense than my neighbors, but I was alwaysoppressed with a sense of my own stupidity in my dealings with SherlockHolmes. Here I had heard what he had heard, I had seen what he hadseen, and yet from his words it was evident that he saw clearly notonly what had happened, but what was about to happen, while to me thewhole business was still confused and grotesque. As I drove home tomy house in Kensington I thought over it all, from the extraordinarystory of the red-headed copier of the “Encyclopædia” down to the visitto Saxe-Coburg Square, and the ominous words with which he had partedfrom me. What was this nocturnal expedition, and why should I go armed?Where were we going, and what were we to do? I had the hint from Holmesthat this smooth-faced pawnbroker’s assistant was a formidable man—aman who might play a deep game. I tried to puzzle it out, but gave itup in despair, and set the matter aside until night should bring anexplanation.

+ +

It was a quarter past nine when I started from home and made my wayacross the Park, and so through Oxford Street to Baker Street. Twohansoms were standing at the door, and, as I entered the passage, Iheard the sound of voices from above. On entering his room I foundHolmes in animated conversation with two men, one of whom I recognizedas Peter Jones, the official police agent, while the other was a long,thin, sad-faced man, with a very shiny hat and oppressively respectablefrock-coat.

+ +

“Ha! our party is complete,” said Holmes, buttoning up his pea-jacket,and taking his heavy hunting crop from the rack. “Watson, I thinkyou know Mr. Jones, of Scotland Yard? Let me introduce you to Mr.Merryweather, who is to be our companion in to-night’s adventure.”

+ +

“We’re hunting in couples again, doctor, you see,” said Jones, in hisconsequential way. “Our friend here is a wonderful man for starting achase. All he wants is an old dog to help him to do the running down.”

+ +

“I hope a wild goose may not prove to be the end of our chase,”observed Mr. Merryweather, gloomily.

+ +

“You may place considerable confidence in Mr. Holmes, sir,” said thepolice agent, loftily. “He has his own little methods, which are, if hewon’t mind my saying so, just a little too theoretical and fantastic,but he has the makings of a detective in him. It is not too much tosay that once or twice, as in that business of the Sholto murder andthe Agra treasure, he has been more nearly correct than the officialforce.”

+ +

“Oh, if you say so, Mr. Jones, it is all right,” said the stranger,with deference. “Still, I confess that I miss my rubber. It is thefirst Saturday night for seven-and-twenty years that I have not had myrubber.”

+ +

“I think you will find,” said Sherlock Holmes, “that you will play fora higher stake to-night than you have ever done yet, and that the playwill be more exciting. For you, Mr. Merryweather, the stake will besome £30,000; and for you, Jones, it will be the man upon whom you wishto lay your hands.”

+ +

“John Clay, the murderer, thief, smasher, and forger. He’s a young man,Mr. Merryweather, but he is at the head of his profession, and I wouldrather have my bracelets on him than on any criminal in London. He’s aremarkable man, is young John Clay. His grandfather was a royal duke,and he himself has been to Eton and Oxford. His brain is as cunning ashis fingers, and though we meet signs of him at every turn, we neverknow where to find the man himself. He’ll crack a crib in Scotland oneweek, and be raising money to build an orphanage in Cornwall the next.I’ve been on his track for years, and have never set eyes on him yet.”

+ +

“I hope that I may have the pleasure of introducing you to-night. I’vehad one or two little turns also with Mr. John Clay, and I agree withyou that he is at the head of his profession. It is past ten, however,and quite time that we started. If you two will take the first hansom,Watson and I will follow in the second.”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes was not very communicative during the long drive,and lay back in the cab humming the tunes which he had heard in theafternoon. We rattled through an endless labyrinth of gas-lit streetsuntil we emerged into Farringdon Street.

+ +

“We are close there now,” my friend remarked. “This fellow Merryweatheris a bank director, and personally interested in the matter. I thoughtit as well to have Jones with us also. He is not a bad fellow, thoughan absolute imbecile in his profession. He has one positive virtue. Heis as brave as a bull-dog, and as tenacious as a lobster if he gets hisclaws upon any one. Here we are, and they are waiting for us.”

+ +

We had reached the same crowded thoroughfare in which we had foundourselves in the morning. Our cabs were dismissed, and, followingthe guidance of Mr. Merryweather, we passed down a narrow passageand through a side door, which he opened for us. Within there was asmall corridor, which ended in a very massive iron gate. This also wasopened, and led down a flight of winding stone steps, which terminatedat another formidable gate. Mr. Merryweather stopped to light alantern, and then conducted us down a dark, earth-smelling passage, andso, after opening a third door, into a huge vault or cellar, which waspiled all round with crates and massive boxes.

+ +

“You are not very vulnerable from above,” Holmes remarked, as he heldup the lantern and gazed about him.

+ +

“Nor from below,” said Mr. Merryweather, striking his stick upon theflags which lined the floor. “Why, dear me, it sounds quite hollow!” heremarked, looking up in surprise.

+ +

“I must really ask you to be a little more quiet,” said Holmes,severely. “You have already imperilled the whole success of ourexpedition. Might I beg that you would have the goodness to sit downupon one of those boxes, and not to interfere?”

+ +

The solemn Mr. Merryweather perched himself upon a crate, with a veryinjured expression upon his face, while Holmes fell upon his kneesupon the floor, and, with the lantern and a magnifying lens, began toexamine minutely the cracks between the stones. A few seconds sufficedto satisfy him, for he sprang to his feet again, and put his glass inhis pocket.

+ +

“We have at least an hour before us,” he remarked; “for they canhardly take any steps until the good pawnbroker is safely in bed.Then they will not lose a minute, for the sooner they do their workthe longer time they will have for their escape. We are at present,doctor—as no doubt you have divined—in the cellar of the city branchof one of the principal London banks. Mr. Merryweather is the chairmanof directors, and he will explain to you that there are reasons why themore daring criminals of London should take a considerable interest inthis cellar at present.”

+ +

“It is our French gold,” whispered the director. “We have had severalwarnings that an attempt might be made upon it.”

+ +

“Your French gold?”

+ +

“Yes. We had occasion some months ago to strengthen our resources, andborrowed, for that purpose, 30,000 napoleons from the Bank of France.It has become known that we have never had occasion to unpack themoney, and that it is still lying in our cellar. The crate upon whichI sit contains 2000 napoleons packed between layers of lead foil. Ourreserve of bullion is much larger at present than is usually kept in asingle branch office, and the directors have had misgivings upon thesubject.”

+ +

“Which were very well justified,” observed Holmes. “And now it is timethat we arranged our little plans. I expect that within an hour matterswill come to a head. In the mean time, Mr. Merryweather, we must putthe screen over that dark lantern.”

+ +

“And sit in the dark?”

+ +

“I am afraid so. I had brought a pack of cards in my pocket, and Ithought that, as we were a _partie carrée_, you might have your rubberafter all. But I see that the enemy’s preparations have gone so farthat we cannot risk the presence of a light. And, first of all, we mustchoose our positions. These are daring men, and though we shall takethem at a disadvantage, they may do us some harm unless we are careful.I shall stand behind this crate, and do you conceal yourselves behindthose. Then, when I flash a light upon them, close in swiftly. If theyfire, Watson, have no compunction about shooting them down.”

+ +

I placed my revolver, cocked, upon the top of the wooden case behindwhich I crouched. Holmes shot the slide across the front of hislantern, and left us in pitch darkness—such an absolute darknessas I have never before experienced. The smell of hot metal remainedto assure us that the light was still there, ready to flash out ata moment’s notice. To me, with my nerves worked up to a pitch ofexpectancy, there was something depressing and subduing in the suddengloom, and in the cold, dank air of the vault.

+ +

“They have but one retreat,” whispered Holmes. “That is back throughthe house into Saxe-Coburg Square. I hope that you have done what Iasked you, Jones?”

+ +

“I have an inspector and two officers waiting at the front door.”

+ +

“Then we have stopped all the holes. And now we must be silent andwait.”

+ +

What a time it seemed! From comparing notes afterwards it was but anhour and a quarter, yet it appeared to me that the night must havealmost gone, and the dawn be breaking above us. My limbs were weary andstiff, for I feared to change my position; yet my nerves were workedup to the highest pitch of tension, and my hearing was so acute that Icould not only hear the gentle breathing of my companions, but I coulddistinguish the deeper, heavier in-breath of the bulky Jones from thethin, sighing note of the bank director. From my position I could lookover the case in the direction of the floor. Suddenly my eyes caughtthe glint of a light.

+ +

At first it was but a lurid spark upon the stone pavement. Then itlengthened out until it became a yellow line, and then, without anywarning or sound, a gash seemed to open and a hand appeared; a white,almost womanly hand, which felt about in the centre of the little areaof light. For a minute or more the hand, with its writhing fingers,protruded out of the floor. Then it was withdrawn as suddenly as itappeared, and all was dark again save the single lurid spark whichmarked a chink between the stones.

+ +

Its disappearance, however, was but momentary. With a rending, tearingsound, one of the broad, white stones turned over upon its side, andleft a square, gaping hole, through which streamed the light of alantern. Over the edge there peeped a clean-cut, boyish face, whichlooked keenly about it, and then, with a hand on either side of theaperture, drew itself shoulder-high and waist-high, until one kneerested upon the edge. In another instant he stood at the side of thehole, and was hauling after him a companion, lithe and small likehimself, with a pale face and a shock of very red hair.

+ +

“It’s all clear,” he whispered. “Have you the chisel and the bags.Great Scott! Jump, Archie, jump, and I’ll swing for it!”

+ +

Sherlock Holmes had sprung out and seized the intruder by the collar.The other dived down the hole, and I heard the sound of rending clothas Jones clutched at his skirts. The light flashed upon the barrel of arevolver, but Holmes’s hunting crop came down on the man’s wrist, andthe pistol clinked upon the stone floor.

+ +

“It’s no use, John Clay,” said Holmes, blandly. “You have no chance atall.”

+ +

“So I see,” the other answered, with the utmost coolness. “I fancy thatmy pal is all right, though I see you have got his coat-tails.”

+ +

“There are three men waiting for him at the door,” said Holmes.

+ +

“Oh, indeed! You seem to have done the thing very completely. I mustcompliment you.”

+ +

“And I you,” Holmes answered. “Your red-headed idea was very new andeffective.”

+ +

“You’ll see your pal again presently,” said Jones. “He’s quicker atclimbing down holes than I am. Just hold out while I fix the derbies.”

+ +

“I beg that you will not touch me with your filthy hands,” remarkedour prisoner, as the handcuffs clattered upon his wrists. “You may notbe aware that I have royal blood in my veins. Have the goodness, also,when you address me always to say ‘sir’ and ‘please.’”

+ +

“All right,” said Jones, with a stare and a snigger. “Well, would youplease, sir, march up-stairs, where we can get a cab to carry yourhighness to the police-station?”

+ +

“That is better,” said John Clay, serenely. He made a sweeping bow tothe three of us, and walked quietly off in the custody of the detective.

+ +

“Really Mr. Holmes,” said Mr. Merryweather, as we followed them fromthe cellar, “I do not know how the bank can thank you or repay you.There is no doubt that you have detected and defeated in the mostcomplete manner one of the most determined attempts at bank robberythat have ever come within my experience.”

+ +

“I have had one or two little scores of my own to settle with Mr.John Clay,” said Holmes. “I have been at some small expense over thismatter, which I shall expect the bank to refund, but beyond that I amamply repaid by having had an experience which is in many ways unique,and by hearing the very remarkable narrative of the Red-headed League.”

+ +

* * * * *

+ +

“You see, Watson,” he explained, in the early hours of the morning,as we sat over a glass of whiskey-and-soda in Baker Street, “it wasperfectly obvious from the first that the only possible object of thisrather fantastic business of the advertisement of the League, and thecopying of the ‘Encyclopædia,’ must be to get this not over-brightpawnbroker out of the way for a number of hours every day. It was acurious way of managing it, but, really, it would be difficult tosuggest a better. The method was no doubt suggested to Clay’s ingeniousmind by the color of his accomplice’s hair. The £4 a week was a lurewhich must draw him, and what was it to them, who were playing forthousands? They put in the advertisement, one rogue has the temporaryoffice, the other rogue incites the man to apply for it, and togetherthey manage to secure his absence every morning in the week. Fromthe time that I heard of the assistant having come for half wages,it was obvious to me that he had some strong motive for securing thesituation.”

+ +

“But how could you guess what the motive was?”

+ +

“Had there been women in the house, I should have suspected a merevulgar intrigue. That, however, was out of the question. The man’sbusiness was a small one, and there was nothing in his house whichcould account for such elaborate preparations, and such an expenditureas they were at. It must, then, be something out of the house. Whatcould it be? I thought of the assistant’s fondness for photography,and his trick of vanishing into the cellar. The cellar! There was theend of this tangled clue. Then I made inquiries as to this mysteriousassistant, and found that I had to deal with one of the coolestand most daring criminals in London. He was doing something in thecellar—something which took many hours a day for months on end. Whatcould it be, once more? I could think of nothing save that he wasrunning a tunnel to some other building.

+ +

“So far I had got when we went to visit the scene of action. Isurprised you by beating upon the pavement with my stick. I wasascertaining whether the cellar stretched out in front or behind.It was not in front. Then I rang the bell, and, as I hoped, theassistant answered it. We have had some skirmishes, but we had neverset eyes upon each other before. I hardly looked at his face. Hisknees were what I wished to see. You must yourself have remarked howworn, wrinkled, and stained they were. They spoke of those hours ofburrowing. The only remaining point was what they were burrowing for. Iwalked round the corner, saw that the City and Suburban Bank abutted onour friend’s premises, and felt that I had solved my problem. When youdrove home after the concert I called upon Scotland Yard, and upon thechairman of the bank directors, with the result that you have seen.”

+ +

“And how could you tell that they would make their attempt to-night?” Iasked.

+ +

“Well, when they closed their League offices that was a sign that theycared no longer about Mr. Jabez Wilson’s presence—in other words,that they had completed their tunnel. But it was essential that theyshould use it soon, as it might be discovered, or the bullion mightbe removed. Saturday would suit them better than any other day, as itwould give them two days for their escape. For all these reasons Iexpected them to come to-night.”

+ +

“You reasoned it out beautifully,” I exclaimed, in unfeignedadmiration. “It is so long a chain, and yet every link rings true.”

+ +

“It saved me from ennui,” he answered, yawning. “Alas! I already feelit closing in upon me. My life is spent in one long effort to escapefrom the commonplaces of existence. These little problems help me to doso.”

+ +

“And you are a benefactor of the race,” said I.

+ +

He shrugged his shoulders. “Well, perhaps, after all, it is of somelittle use,” he remarked. “‘L’homme c’est rien—l’oeuvre c’esttout,’ as Gustave Flaubert wrote to Georges Sand.”

+======= The_Red_Headed_League @@ -508,6 +952,7 @@

The_Red_Headed_League

“And_you_are_a_benefactor_of_the_race,”_said_I.

He_shrugged_his_shoulders._“Well,_perhaps,_after_all,_it_is_of_somelittle_use,”_he_remarked._“‘L’homme_c’est_rien—l’oeuvre_c’esttout,’_as_Gustave_Flaubert_wrote_to_Georges_Sand.”

+>>>>>>> 5092fc77a613991eb73dad800f2cb3d6697ccacc

diff --git a/dist/index.html b/dist/index.html index 079474b..1c62412 100644 --- a/dist/index.html +++ b/dist/index.html @@ -6,6 +6,9 @@ Home +<<<<<<< HEAD + +======= +>>>>>>> 5092fc77a613991eb73dad800f2cb3d6697ccacc

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