福尔摩斯探案集
《福尔摩斯探案集》
亚瑟·柯南·道尔著
I. 波希米亚丑闻 II. 红发会 III. 身份案 IV. 博斯康比谷之谜 V. 五个橙子印记 VI. 嘴唇扭曲的人 VII. 蓝宝石案 VIII. 斑点带子案 IX. 工程师的手指 X. 高贵单身汉案 XI. 伯利尔王冠案 XII. 铜 Beeches 案
I. 波希米亚丑闻
I.
对于福尔摩斯来说,她永远是那个女人。我很少听到他提起她时用其他名字。在他的眼中,她超越了整个性别。这并不是因为他对于艾琳·艾德勒有任何类似爱情的情感。所有情感,尤其是那种情感,都让他那冷静、精确但完美平衡的头脑感到厌恶。我认为,他是世界上见过最完美的推理和观察机器,但作为一个情人,他会把自己置于一个错误的位置。他从不谈论那些柔软的情感,除非带着嘲笑和轻蔑。对于观察者来说,这些是值得称赞的事情——对于揭示人们的动机和行动非常有效。但是,对于一个受过训练的推理者来说,让这样的干扰进入他自己的细腻而精致的性格中,就是引入一个可能使他的所有心理结果产生怀疑的干扰因素。对于敏感仪器中的沙粒,或者他自己的高倍镜头上的裂缝,都不会比在他这样的性格中产生强烈的情感更令人不安。然而,对于他来说,只有一个女人,那就是已故的艾琳·艾德勒,她的记忆模糊且可疑。
我最近很少见到福尔摩斯。我的婚姻使我们彼此疏远。我自己的完全幸福,以及围绕那些首先找到自己家园的主人而兴起的以家庭为中心的兴趣,足以吸收我所有的注意力,而福尔摩斯,他那充满波希米亚灵魂的整个灵魂都厌恶每一种社会形式,仍然住在贝克街的住所里,沉浸在旧书中,每周交替使用可卡因和野心,药物的昏睡状态和他自己敏锐本性的强烈能量。他仍然像以前一样,对犯罪研究有着深深的吸引力,用他巨大的才能和非凡的观察力追踪线索,解决那些官方警察已经放弃为无望的谜案。偶尔,我会听到一些关于他的行为的模糊描述:他在特雷波夫谋杀案中被召唤到敖德萨,他在特里尼康米亚解决阿特金森兄弟的奇特悲剧,最后是他为荷兰王室完成的既微妙又成功的使命。然而,除了这些活动的迹象,这些迹象我只是与所有日报的读者共享,我对我的前朋友和同伴所知甚少。
一天晚上——那是在1888年3月20日——我从一次出诊归来(因为我现在又回到了民用实践),我的路经过贝克街。当我经过那扇我记忆中永远与我的求婚以及《血字的研究》中的黑暗事件联系在一起的大门时,我强烈地渴望再次见到福尔摩斯,想知道他是如何运用他非凡的能力的。他的房间灯火通明,甚至在我抬头看的时候,我看到他那高瘦的身影两次在窗帘的阴影中掠过。他正在房间里快速、急切地踱步,头垂在胸前,双手背在身后。对我来说,了解他的每一个情绪和习惯,他的姿态和举止本身就足以说明一切。他又开始工作了。他从药物诱导的梦境中苏醒过来,对某个新问题充满了热情。我按响了门铃,被引上了曾经部分属于我的房间。
他的态度并不热情。这很少见;但我想,他见到我很高兴。几乎没说一句话,但眼神中充满了善意,他示意我坐在扶手椅上,把他的烟盒扔过来,并指了指角落里的一个酒柜和一个煤气发生器。然后他站在火炉前,用他特有的内省方式打量着我。
“结婚对你有好处,”他评论道。“我想,华生,自从我上次见到你以来,你增重了七磅半。”
“七磅!”我回答。
“的确,我以为会更多一些。我想,华生,你增重了一点。而且我又看到了你在行医。你没有告诉我你打算去工作。”
“那么,你是怎么知道的?”
“我看到,我推理出来的。我怎么知道你最近一直很湿,而且你有一个非常笨拙、粗心的女仆?”
“亲爱的福尔摩斯,”我说,“这太过分了。如果你生活在几个世纪以前,你肯定会被烧死的。确实,我在星期四去了一次乡村散步,回家时弄得一团糟,但我已经换过了衣服,我想不明白你是怎么推理出来的。至于玛丽·简,她无可救药,我妻子已经给了她解雇通知,但在这方面,我也看不出你是怎么推理出来的。”
他自嘲地笑了笑,搓着他那长而紧张的手。
“这太简单了,”他说;“我的眼睛告诉我,在你的左鞋内侧,正好处在火光照射的地方,皮革上有六道几乎平行的划痕。显然,这是有人不小心在鞋底边缘刮擦,以去除上面的泥垢所致。因此,你看,我得出的双重推断是,你曾在恶劣的天气外出,而且你有一只特别恶毒的伦敦女仆式的破鞋样本。至于你的职业,如果一个绅士走进我的房间,身上有碘仿的味道,右食指上有一个硝酸银的印记,他的高帽右侧鼓起一块,表明他藏有听诊器,如果我还不能断定他是一名活跃的医学界人士,那我就真的太迟钝了。”
我忍不住对他解释推理过程时的轻松自如感到好笑。“当我听你陈述理由时,”我说,“事情总是显得如此荒谬简单,以至于我似乎也能轻易做到,尽管每次你推理时,我都会感到困惑,直到你解释你的推理过程。然而,我相信我的眼睛和你的眼睛一样好。”
“完全正确,”他回答,点起一支香烟,然后坐进扶手椅里。“你看,但你不观察。区别很明显。例如,你经常看到从大厅通向这个房间的楼梯。”
“经常。”
“有多少次?”
“嗯,几百次吧。”
“那么有多少级?”
“多少级?我不知道。”
“正是如此!你没有观察。但你确实看到了。这正是我的观点。现在,我知道有十七级台阶,因为我既看到了又观察到了。顺便说一句,既然你对这些小问题感兴趣,既然你愿意记录下我的一些微不足道的经历,你可能会对这张纸感兴趣。”他把一张厚厚的、粉红色的信纸扔到桌子上。“这是上一封邮件来的,”他说。“大声读出来。”
这张便条没有注明日期,也没有签名或地址。
“今晚八点差一刻,有人将前来拜访你,”上面写道,“一位绅士希望就一件极其重要的事情向你咨询。你对欧洲某王室最近的服务表明,你是一个可以安全托付那些重要性难以言喻的事情的人。我们从各个渠道都收到了关于你的描述。在那个时间,请待在你的房间里,如果来访者戴着面具,请不要见怪。”
“这真是个谜,”我说。“你认为这是什么意思?”
“我还没有数据。在没有数据之前就下结论是个大错误。不知不觉中,人们开始扭曲事实以适应理论,而不是让理论适应事实。但是,这张便条本身。你能从中推断出什么?”
我仔细检查了笔迹和写便条的纸张。
“写下这封信的人想必家境富裕,”我评论道,尽力模仿我的同伴的做法。“这样的纸不可能以半克朗一包的价格买到。它特别坚固且坚韧。”
“奇特——这正是我要说的词,”福尔摩斯说。“这根本不是英国的纸。把它拿到光线下看看。”
我照做了,看到纸上织入了“E”字,一个小写的“g”,一个“P”字,以及一个带小写的“t”的大写“G”字。
“你对此有何看法?”福尔摩斯问。
“毫无疑问,是制造商的名字;或者更确切地说,是他的徽记。”
“完全不是。那个带小写‘t’的‘G’代表‘Gesellschaft’,这是德语中的‘公司’,就像我们的‘Co.’一样,是一种常见的缩写。‘P’当然代表‘Papier’。现在来看看‘Eg’。让我们翻翻我们的欧洲地名词典。”他从书架上取下一本厚重的棕色卷轴。“Eglow,Eglonitz——这里,Egria。它位于一个讲德语的国家——波希米亚,离卡尔斯巴德不远。‘因其是华伦斯坦之死的发生地,以及其众多的玻璃厂和造纸厂而闻名。’哈哈,我的孩子,你怎么看这个?”他的眼睛闪烁着,从香烟中吐出一大团蓝色的胜利云雾。
“这纸是在波希米亚制造的,”我说。
“正是。写信的那个人是德国人。你注意到句子的奇特结构了吗——‘我们从四面八方都收到了关于你的这个描述。’一个法国人或俄国人是写不出这样的句子的。这是德国人对他的动词如此无礼的表现。因此,我们只剩下要发现这个用波希米亚纸写信并宁愿戴面具也不愿露脸的德国人想要什么。而且,如果我没有猜错的话,他现在就要来解答我们所有的疑问了。”
他说话时,传来马蹄声和车轮与路缘的摩擦声,接着是急促的铃声。福尔摩斯吹了声口哨。
“听起来是一对马,”他说。“是的,”他继续说,向外瞥了一眼。“一辆漂亮的小四轮马车和一对骏马。每匹马价值一百五十畿尼。沃森,如果这个案子没有其他东西的话,这里面有油水。”
“我想我最好走了,福尔摩斯。”
“一点也不,医生。待在这里。没有我的博斯威尔,我就迷失了方向。而且这看起来很有趣,错过它会很遗憾。”
“但是你的客户——”
“别管他。我可能需要你的帮助,他可能也需要。坐那张扶手椅上,医生,全神贯注地听我们说话。”
楼梯和走廊上传来的缓慢而沉重的脚步声在门外停了下来。然后是一声响亮而权威的敲门声。
“进来!”福尔摩斯说。
一位身高至少六英尺六英寸,胸膛和四肢如赫拉克勒斯般强健的男子走了进来。他的衣着富丽,其奢华程度在英格兰会被视为近乎俗气。他的双排扣外套袖子和前襟上装饰着厚重的阿斯特拉罕皮毛,而披在肩上的深蓝色斗篷内衬着火焰般的丝绸,并在颈部用一枚镶嵌着单颗火焰般碧玉的胸针固定。靴子一直延伸到小腿中部,顶部装饰着丰富的棕色毛皮,他的整个外表给人一种野蛮奢华的印象。他手里拿着一顶宽边帽,脸上戴着从颧骨延伸到下巴的黑面纱,显然是刚刚调整过的,因为他的手还举着面纱,随着他的进入而抬起。从脸部下半部分看,他似乎是一个性格坚强的人,厚厚的下垂嘴唇和长长的直下巴暗示着固执。
“你收到我的便条了吗?”他带着深沉而沙哑的声音,带着强烈的德国口音问道,“我告诉过你我会来的。”他轮流看着我们每一个人,似乎不确定该对谁说话。
“请坐,”福尔摩斯说,“这是我的朋友和同事,华生医生,他偶尔会帮我处理案件。我有幸与哪位交谈?”
“您可以叫我克拉姆伯爵,一位波希米亚贵族。我知道这位先生,您的朋友,是一个有荣誉感和谨慎的人,我可以信任他处理一件极其重要的事情。如果不是,我更愿意单独与您沟通。”
我起身要走,但福尔摩斯抓住我的手腕,把我推回椅子上。“要么两人都参与,要么都不参与,”他说,“您可以在这位先生面前说您对我说的任何话。”
克拉姆伯爵耸了耸他那宽阔的肩膀。“那么,我必须首先要求你们两人对我所讲的内容保密两年;到那时,这件事将不再重要。目前,可以说它的重要性可能影响欧洲历史。”
“我保证,”福尔摩斯说。
“我也保证。”
“请原谅我戴着这个面具,”我们这位奇怪的访客继续说,“雇佣我的那位显赫人物希望他的代理人对你们保密,我可以坦白地说,我刚才用的名字并不完全是我自己的。”
“我早就知道了,”福尔摩斯冷冷地说。
“情况非常微妙,必须采取一切预防措施来扑灭可能变成一场巨大丑闻,并严重损害欧洲一个统治家族的事情。坦白说,这件事涉及到波希米亚的伟大奥尔斯坦家族,他们是世袭的波希米亚国王。”
“我也知道这一点,”福尔摩斯低声说,他坐在扶手椅上,闭上眼睛。
访客带着一丝明显的惊讶,目光扫过那个懒洋洋、闲散的人影。这个人无疑被描述为他是最敏锐的推理家和最活跃的行动家,在欧洲无人能出其右。福尔摩斯缓缓地睁开了眼睛,不耐烦地看了看他那庞大的客户。
“如果陛下愿意陈述您的案件,”他说,“我将能更好地为您提供建议。”
那人从椅子上跳起来,在房间里来回踱步,情绪无法控制。然后,他做出一个绝望的手势,从脸上扯下面具,扔在地上。“你说得对,”他喊道,“我是国王。我为什么要试图隐瞒呢?”
“的确如此,”福尔摩斯低语,“陛下在我意识到自己在与威廉·戈特里希·西吉斯蒙德·冯·奥尔明斯坦,卡塞尔-费尔斯坦大公,波希米亚世袭国王交谈之前,并没有透露您的身份。”
“但你能理解,”我们这位奇怪的访客再次坐下,用手摸了摸他那高高的白皙额头,“你能理解,我并不习惯亲自处理这样的事情。然而,这件事如此微妙,我不能把信任交给代理人而不让自己陷入他的控制之中。我是从布拉格秘密前来的,目的是来咨询您。”
“那么,请咨询吧,”福尔摩斯再次闭上眼睛说。
“事实简单来说是这样的:大约五年前,我在访问华沙期间,结识了那位著名的冒险家,艾琳·艾德勒。这个名字你一定很熟悉。”
“请在我的索引中查找她,医生,”福尔摩斯闭着眼睛低语。多年来,他一直采用一种记录所有关于人和事的文章的系统,因此很难找到一个他不能立刻提供信息的主题或人物。在这种情况下,我发现她的传记夹在一个希伯来教士和一个撰写深海鱼类专论的军士长的传记之间。
“让我看看!”福尔摩斯说,“嗯!1858年出生于新泽西州。女低音——嗯!斯卡拉歌剧院——嗯!华沙帝国歌剧院的首席女高音——是的!从歌剧舞台上退休——哈!住在伦敦——没错!陛下,据我所知,您与这位年轻女子纠缠不清,给她写了些令人尴尬的信件,现在希望拿回这些信件。”
“正是如此。但如何——”
“有没有秘密的婚姻?”
“没有。”
“有没有合法的文件或证书?”
“没有。”
“那么,陛下,我无法理解。如果这位年轻女子出示她的信件进行敲诈或其他目的,她如何证明信件的真伪?”
“有笔迹。”
“呸,呸!伪造。”
“我的私人信纸。”
“偷来的。”
“我的私人印章。”
“模仿的。”
“我的照片。”
“买的。”
“我们俩都在照片里。”
“哦,天哪!这太糟糕了!陛下确实犯了一个失态的错误。”
“我当时疯了——精神失常。”
“您已经严重地损害了自己的名誉。”
“我当时只是王储。我年轻。我现在三十岁了。”
“必须找回。”
“我们尝试过,但失败了。”
“陛下必须赔偿。必须买回来。”
“她不会卖的。”
“那就算偷的。”
“已经尝试了五次。两次是受雇的窃贼闯入她的住所。一次是她旅行时我们转移了她的行李。两次她被人拦截。但都没有结果。”
“没有任何迹象?”
“完全没有。”
福尔摩斯笑了。“这真是个相当有趣的小问题,”他说。
“但对我来说非常严重,”国王责备地回答。
“确实如此。她打算如何处理这张照片?”
“要毁掉我。”
“怎么毁?”
“我即将结婚。”
“我听说了。”
“与克洛蒂尔德·洛特曼·冯·萨克森-门宁根,斯堪的纳维亚国王的二女儿。你可能知道她家族的严格原则。她自己就是细腻的化身。对我的行为有任何疑虑的阴影都会让这件事结束。”
“艾琳·艾德勒呢?”
“威胁要寄出那张照片。她会这么做。我知道她会这么做。你不了解她,但她有一颗钢铁般的心。她有着最美丽的女性的面容,和最坚定的男性的头脑。为了不让我娶另一个女人,她愿意走任何极端——没有任何限制。”
“你确定她还没有寄出吗?”
“我确定。”
“为什么?”
“因为她说过,她会在订婚公之于众的那天寄出。那将是下周一。”
“哦,那么我们还有三天时间,”福尔摩斯打着哈欠说。“这非常幸运,因为我现在正好有几件重要的事情要处理。陛下现在当然会留在伦敦,对吧?”
“当然。你会发现我在兰汉姆酒店,化名为克朗姆伯爵。”
“那么我会给你写信,让你知道我们的进展。”
“请这么做。我会非常焦虑。”
“至于钱?”
“你有全权。”
“绝对?”
“我告诉你,为了那张照片,我会把我国的一个省份都给你。”
“那么,目前的费用?”
国王从他的斗篷下拿出一款沉重的山羊皮钱包,放在桌子上。
“里面有三百英镑的金币和七百英镑的纸币,”他说。
福尔摩斯在他的笔记本上草草地写了一张收据,递给了他。
“那么,小姐的地址?”他问道。
“是布丽奥尼庄园,塞彭廷大道,圣约翰伍德。”
福尔摩斯记下了地址。“还有一个问题,”他说。“照片是相册大小的吗?”
“是的。”
“那么,陛下,晚安,我希望我们很快就能有好消息告诉您。晚安,华生,”他补充道,当皇家四轮马车沿着街道行驶时。“如果你明天下午三点能来,我想和你聊聊这件事。”
第二章
三点整,我已抵达贝克街,但福尔摩斯尚未归来。房东告诉我,他早上八点刚过就离开了房子。然而,我还是坐在壁炉边,打算等待他,无论他可能要等多久。我对他的调查已经深感兴趣,尽管这个案件并没有像我已经记录的两大罪行那样带有恐怖和奇异的特征,但案件本身及其客户的崇高地位赋予了它独特的性质。事实上,除了我朋友手头上的调查性质之外,他在掌握局势方面的精湛技巧,以及他敏锐、深刻的推理能力,让我乐于研究他的工作系统,并跟随他快速、细腻的方法,解开最错综复杂的谜团。我早已习惯于他不可动摇的成功,以至于他失败的可能性已经不再进入我的脑海。
将近四点时,门才打开,一个看起来喝得醉醺醺的马夫走了进来,他头发凌乱,留着一侧的小胡子,脸色通红,衣着不整。我虽然习惯了朋友惊人的伪装能力,但还是看了三遍才确定那确实是他的身影。他点头后消失进了卧室,五分钟后,他穿着呢子外套,恢复了往日的体面,走了出来。他把双手插进口袋,把腿伸在壁炉前,开心地笑了好几分钟。
“哎呀,真是!”他喊道,然后他笑得呛住了,接着又笑了起来,直到不得不无力地仰靠在椅子上。
“怎么了?”
“太有趣了。我敢肯定你永远猜不到我如何度过我的早晨,或者我最终做了什么。”
“我想象不出来。我猜你一直在观察艾琳·艾德勒小姐的习惯,也许还有她的房子。”
“没错;但接下来的事情相当不寻常。我会告诉你的。今天早上八点过后不久,我以一个失业马夫的身份离开了房子。马夫之间有着奇妙的同情和兄弟情谊。成为他们中的一员,你就会知道所有的事情。我很快就找到了布丽奥尼别墅。这是一座小巧的别墅,后面有花园,但前面直接建到了路上,两层楼高。门上有丘伯锁。右侧有一个宽敞的客厅,装修豪华,长窗户几乎延伸到地板,还有那些荒谬的英国式窗户扣,小孩子都能打开。后面没有什么特别之处,除了从马厩顶部可以到达走廊的窗户。我绕着它走了走,从各个角度仔细检查,但没有发现其他有趣的东西。
我随后沿着街道闲逛,正如我所预料的那样,我发现了一条小巷,它沿着花园的一面墙延伸。我帮马夫擦马,作为回报,我得到了两便士、一杯半咖啡、两份雪茄烟,以及关于艾德勒小姐的尽可能多的信息,更不用说还有关于我根本不感兴趣但被迫倾听其生平的半打邻居了。
“那么艾丽诺·艾德勒怎么样了?”我问。
“哦,她让那个地区的所有男人都为她倾倒。她是这个星球上戴着帽子最娇小的人。塞彭廷巷的人都是这样说的。她生活得安静,在音乐会上唱歌,每天五点出去驾车,七点准时回家吃晚餐。除了唱歌的时候,很少外出。她只有一个男性访客,但和他相处的时间很长。他肤色黝黑,英俊潇洒,每天至少来一次,有时两次。他是内殿律师的戈弗雷·诺顿先生。看看车夫作为密友的优势吧。他们已经多次开车送他回家,对他的情况了如指掌。在他们告诉我所有的事情之后,我开始再次在布丽恩尼庄园附近来回走动,思考我的行动计划。
“戈弗雷·诺顿显然是这个问题的关键。他是一名律师。这听起来不祥。他们之间的关系是什么,他反复拜访的目的又是什么?她是他的客户、朋友还是情妇?如果是前者,她可能已经把照片转交给了他保管。如果是后者,可能性就小了。这个问题的答案取决于我是否应该继续在布丽恩尼庄园的工作,还是将注意力转向他在内殿律师学院的办公室。这是一个微妙的问题,它扩大了我的调查范围。我担心这些细节让你感到厌烦,但如果你要理解情况,我必须让你看到我小小的困难。”
“我一直在密切关注你,”我回答。
“我还在心里权衡这件事时,一辆出租马车开到了布丽恩尼庄园,一位绅士跳了下来。他长得非常英俊,肤色黝黑,鹰钩鼻,留着胡子——显然就是那个我听说的人。他看起来很匆忙,大声对车夫喊道让他等着,带着一个完全在家里的男人的派头,擦肩而过开门的女仆。
“他在屋子里待了大约半小时,我能在客厅的窗户里瞥见他的身影,他来回踱步,激动地谈话,挥舞着手臂。关于她,我什么都没看到。不久,他出来了,看起来比刚才更加慌张。当他走到马车旁时,他从口袋里掏出一块金表,认真地看了看,“像魔鬼一样开车,”他喊道,“先去摄政街的格罗斯和汉基公司,然后去埃奇韦尔路的圣莫尼卡教堂。如果你在二十分钟内完成,给你半个畿尼!”
他们走了,我正犹豫是否应该跟上去,这时一辆整洁的小马车驶上了车道,车夫的制服只扣了一半,领带垂在耳边,而他的马具上的所有标签都从搭扣里露了出来。马车还没停稳,她就从大厅的门冲了出去,跳进了马车。我只是在那一刻瞥见了她,但她是个美丽的女人,一张男人愿意为她赴汤蹈火的脸。
“圣莫尼卡教堂,约翰,”她喊道,“如果你在二十分钟内到达那里,就给我半个金币。”
这机会太好了,不能错过,华生。我正在权衡是应该跑去,还是躲在她的马车后面,这时一辆出租车穿过街道。司机看了我这样破烂的乘客两眼,但我跳上车前他还没来得及反对。“圣莫尼卡教堂,”我说,“如果你在二十分钟内到达那里,就给我半个金币。”当时是十二点二十五分,显然事情很紧急。
我的车夫开得很快。我想我从未开得这么快,但我们还是比他们先到。当我到达时,马车和出租车,以及它们冒热气的马匹,已经在大门前了。我付了钱,急忙走进了教堂。里面除了我跟踪的那两个人和一个穿着法衣的牧师外,没有其他人。他们三个人正站在祭坛前的一团。我像任何其他闲逛进教堂的人一样悠闲地沿着侧廊走去。突然,出乎我的意料,祭坛上的三个人转向了我,戈弗雷·诺顿尽力跑向我。
“谢天谢地,”他喊道。“你行。快!快!”
“那接下来呢?”我问。
“快,先生,快,只有三分钟,否则就不合法了。”
我被半拖半拽地拉到祭坛前,还没等我反应过来,我就发现自己正在嘟囔着耳语中的回应,对一无所知的事情发誓,并且一般性地帮助把艾琳·艾德勒小姐,单身,与戈弗雷·诺顿先生,单身,合法地绑在了一起。这一切都是在瞬间完成的,那位绅士在一侧向我道谢,而那位女士在另一侧,牧师在我面前微笑着。这是我一生中遇到的最荒谬的处境,正是这个念头让我刚才笑了起来。原来他们的结婚证有些不正规,牧师坚决拒绝在没有某种见证人的情况下为他们主持婚礼,而我的幸运出现救了新郎,免得他不得不出去寻找伴郎。新娘给了我一个金币,我打算把这件事纪念在手表链上。
“这真是一个意想不到的转折,”我说;“那接下来呢?”
嗯,我发现我的计划受到了严重的威胁。看起来他们可能要立刻离开,这迫使我必须迅速采取行动。然而,在教堂门口,他们分开了,他开车回议会大厦,而她则回家。她说:“我像往常一样,五点钟去公园。”我再也没有听到她的声音。他们朝不同的方向驱车而去,我则去安排自己的事情。
“需要什么?”
“一些冷牛肉和一杯啤酒,”他回答着按响了门铃。“我一直忙得没时间考虑食物,今晚可能还要忙。顺便说一句,医生,我需要你的合作。”
“我很乐意。”
“你不介意违法?”
“一点也不。”
“也不担心被捕?”
“为了正义的事业,我不在乎。”
“哦,这个事业非常高尚!”
“那么,我就是你的人。”
“我确信我可以依赖你。”
“你想要我做什么?”
“当特纳夫人在托盘上放好东西后,我会向你解释。现在,”他说着贪婪地望着房东提供的简单食物,“我必须边吃边讨论,因为我没有太多时间。现在快五点了。两个小时后,我们必须到达行动现场。艾琳小姐,或者更确切地说,夫人,七点钟从她的驾车中回来。我们必须在布丽奥尼庄园迎接她。”
“然后呢?”
“这件事就交给我吧。我已经安排好了将要发生的事情。只有一个要点我必须坚持。无论发生什么,你都不要干涉。你明白吗?”
“我要保持中立?”
“什么都不做。可能会有些小的不愉快。不要参与其中。最后我会被带进屋。大约五分钟后,客厅的窗户会打开。你要站在那扇打开的窗户附近。”
“是的。”
“你要监视我,因为我会在你视线范围内。”
“是的。”
“当我举手——就这样——你要把我要你扔进屋里的东西扔进去,同时大声呼喊火灾。你完全明白了吗?”
“完全明白。”
“这没什么可怕的,”他说着从口袋里拿出一根长长的雪茄形状的卷筒。“这是一根普通的管道工烟雾火箭,两端都装有一个帽子,使其能够自燃。你的任务仅限于此。当你呼喊火灾时,会有很多人响应。然后你可以走到街的尽头,十分钟内我会追上你。我希望我已经解释清楚了?”
“我要保持中立,靠近窗户,监视你,信号一到就扔进这个物品,然后大声呼喊火灾,并在街角等你。”
“正是如此。”
“那么,你可以完全信赖我。”
“太好了。我想,也许是我准备扮演新角色的时候了。”
他消失进了他的卧室,几分钟后,他化身为一位和蔼可亲、头脑简单的异教牧师。他那顶宽大的黑色帽子、宽松的裤子、白色的领带、同情的微笑,以及那般探询和仁慈的好奇眼神,只有约翰·黑尔先生才能与之媲美。不仅仅是霍姆斯改变了他的装束。他的表情、举止,甚至是他的灵魂,似乎随着他扮演的每一个新角色而变化。当他成为犯罪专家时,舞台失去了一位杰出的演员,正如科学失去了一位敏锐的推理者。
我们离开贝克街时是六点一刻,当我们发现自己身处塞彭廷斯大道时,离整点还有十分钟。天色已晚,我们沿着布丽奥尼庄园前走来走去,等待住客的到来。房子和我从福尔摩斯的简短描述中所想象的一模一样,但这个地方似乎比我预期的更不私密。相反,对于一个安静街区的小巷来说,这里异常热闹。角落里有一群衣着破旧的男人在吸烟和笑着,一个磨剪刀的人推着轮子,两个卫兵在和一位护士女孩调情,还有几个穿着体面的年轻人嘴里叼着雪茄,闲逛着。
“你看,”霍姆斯在我们房子前来回走动时说道,“这场婚姻简化了事情。现在这张照片成了双刃剑。她可能像我们的委托人一样,不愿意让戈弗雷·诺顿先生看到它。现在的问题是,我们去哪里找这张照片?”
“在哪里?”
“她不太可能随身携带它。它是画册大小的。太大,不可能轻易藏匿在女人的衣服里。她知道国王有能力拦截并搜查她。已经尝试过两次了。那么,我们可以认为她没有随身携带它。”
“那么呢?”
“她的银行家或律师。这是两种可能。但我倾向于认为都不是。女人天生喜欢保密,喜欢自己藏匿东西。她为什么要交给别人?她可以信任自己的保管,但她无法知道可能会对商人施加什么样的间接或政治影响。此外,记住,她决定在几天内使用它。它必须在她能随时拿到的地方。它必须在她自己的房子里。”
“但房子已经被盗过两次了。”
“呸!他们不知道该往哪里看。”
“那你怎么办?”
“我不会去找。”
“那怎么办?”
“我会让她带我去看。”
“但她会拒绝。”
“她无法拒绝。我听到车轮的隆隆声。那是她的马车。现在,按照我的命令行事。”
他说话时,一辆马车侧灯的光芒在林荫道的拐弯处闪现。那是一辆时髦的小敞篷马车,它嘎吱嘎吱地驶到布赖恩利庄园的大门前。马车停下时,角落里一个闲逛的男子冲上前去开门,希望能赚个铜板,却被另一个冲上前来的闲汉推开。一场激烈的争吵爆发了,两个守卫加入了争吵,他们分别站在一个闲汉一边,而剪刀磨刀匠则同样激烈地站在另一边。一拳被打了出去,瞬间,那位从马车上下来的女士便成了几个面红耳赤、挣扎搏斗的男子中心的焦点,他们用拳头和棍子猛烈地互相攻击。福尔摩斯冲进人群保护那位女士;但就在他到达她身边时,他发出一声尖叫,倒在地上,鲜血从他的脸上流了下来。在他倒下的那一刻,守卫们朝一个方向逃去,而闲汉们则朝另一个方向逃去,而一群穿着更好的人,他们一直在旁观这场打斗,没有参与其中,这时纷纷涌上前去帮助那位女士,并照料受伤的人。我还是像以前一样称她为艾琳·艾德勒,她匆匆走上台阶;但她站在楼梯顶端,那优美的身姿在宴会厅灯光的映衬下显得格外突出,她回望着街道。
“这位可怜的先生伤得很重吗?”她问道。
“他死了,”几个声音喊道。
“不,不,他还活着!”另一个声音喊道,“但你们要是把他送到医院,他可能就活不过来了。”
“他是个勇敢的人,”一个妇女说,“要不是他,那些家伙可能就会抢走女士的钱包和手表了。他们是一群人,而且非常粗鲁。啊,他现在还在呼吸。”
“他不能躺在街上。我们可以把他抬进来吗,夫人?”
“当然可以。把他抬到客厅里。那里有一张舒适的沙发。请这边走!”
他慢慢地、庄重地被抬进布赖恩利庄园,并被放在主客厅里,而我仍然站在窗边观察着这一切。灯光已经点亮,但百叶窗还没有拉上,所以我可以看到福尔摩斯躺在沙发上。我不知道他是否在那一刻对自己扮演的角色感到愧疚,但我知道,我从未在一生中感到如此彻底的羞愧,当我看到我正在密谋对付的这位美丽女子,或者当她以优雅和慈爱照料受伤的人时的样子。然而,现在从福尔摩斯托付给我的任务中退缩,将是最大的背叛。我硬起心肠,从我的大衣下拿出烟火箭。毕竟,我想,我们并没有伤害她。我们只是在阻止她伤害别人。
福尔摩斯坐在沙发上,我注意到他像需要空气一样地动来动去。一名女仆冲过来,猛地打开窗户。就在这时,我看到他举起手,我按照信号喊出“着火了!”这个词刚出口,整个观众群——穿着讲究的绅士、马夫和女仆们——都跟着发出了一阵“着火了!”的惊叫。浓烟在房间里盘旋,从敞开的窗户中涌出。我瞥见了几个奔跑的身影,片刻后,从屋内传来了福尔摩斯的声音,他告诉他们这是一场虚惊。我穿过喧嚣的人群,走到街角,十分钟后,我欣喜地发现我的朋友的手臂在我身边,我们终于离开了这场骚乱。他快速而沉默地走了几分钟,直到我们拐进了一条通往埃奇韦尔路的安静街道。
“你做得非常好,医生,”他说,“再好不过了。一切正常。”
“你有照片吗?”
“我知道它在哪儿。”
“你是怎么发现的?”
“她按照你说的那样指给我看了。”
“我仍然一无所知。”
“我不想制造谜团,”他笑着说道,“事情很简单。你当然看到街上每个人都可能是同谋。他们晚上都有约。”
“我猜到了。”
“那么,当骚动开始时,我手里有一小团湿润的红色油漆。我冲上前去,倒在地上,用手捂住脸,变成了一副可怜的样子。这是一个老把戏。”
“这个我也猜到了。”
“然后他们把我抬了进去。她肯定得把我抬进去。她还能怎么办?然后是她的客厅,正是我怀疑的那个房间。它就在她的卧室之间,我决心要看一看。他们把我放在沙发上,我做出需要空气的样子,他们不得不打开窗户,你就有了机会。”
“这对你有什么帮助?”
至关重要。当一个女性认为她的房子着火了,她的本能就是立刻冲向她最珍视的东西。这是一种压倒性的冲动,我多次利用过它。在达尔林顿代换丑闻案中,它对我很有用,在阿恩斯沃斯城堡事件中也是如此。已婚妇女会抓住她的孩子;未婚的则会伸手去拿她的首饰盒。现在对我来说很清楚,我们今天的女主人家里没有比我们正在寻找的东西更珍贵的东西。她会冲过去保护它。火灾警报做得非常出色。烟雾和呼喊足以动摇钢铁般的神经。她的反应非常完美。照片就放在滑动面板后面的小凹室里,正好在右边的铃绳上方。她立刻就到了那里,我瞥见了它,当她半拉出它的时候。当我喊出这是假警报时,她把它放回去,瞥了一眼火箭,冲出房间,从此我就再也没有见过她。我站起来,找了个借口,逃离了房子。我犹豫是否应该立刻去拿照片;但车夫已经进来了,而且他正密切地注视着我,似乎等待更安全。一点过于急躁可能会毁掉一切。”
“现在呢?”我问。
“我们的搜寻实际上已经结束了。我明天会带国王来,如果你愿意的话,你也可以和我们一起。我们将被引进客厅等待女士,但很可能当她来的时候,她会发现我们和她都找不到照片。如果他能亲手找回它,这对国王陛下来说可能是一种满足。”
“你什么时候来?”
“早上八点。她不会起床,这样我们就有了一个清晰的空间。此外,我们必须迅速行动,因为这场婚姻可能意味着她生活和习惯的彻底改变。我必须立刻给国王发电报。”
我们已经到达了贝克街,并在门口停下。他正在口袋里找钥匙,这时有个人路过说:
“晚安,福尔摩斯先生。”
当时人行道上有好几个人,但问候似乎来自一个穿着雨衣的瘦削青年,他匆匆而过。
“我以前听过这个声音,”福尔摩斯说,他凝视着昏暗的街道。“现在,我想知道这究竟是谁。”
第三章
那天晚上我住在贝克街,我们在早上喝吐司和咖啡时,波希米亚国王突然冲进了房间。
“你真的找到了!”他喊道,紧紧抓住福尔摩斯的肩膀,急切地望着他的脸。
“还没有。”
“但是你有希望?”
“我有希望。”
“那么,来吧。我迫不及待地想走了。”
“我们必须叫一辆出租车。”
“不,我的四轮马车就在外面等着。”
“那么这就简化了事情。”我们下了车,再次出发前往布赖恩利庄园。
“艾琳·艾德勒结婚了,”福尔摩斯说。
“结婚了!什么时候?”
“昨天。”
“和谁?”
“和一个名叫诺顿的英国律师。”
“但她不可能爱他。”
“我希望她是这样的。”
“为什么会有这样的希望?”
“因为这样就能让您免受未来烦恼的恐惧。如果那位女士爱她的丈夫,她就不会爱您。如果她不爱您,就没有理由她要干涉您的计划。”
“确实如此。然而——!唉!我要是她能是我的地位就好了!她一定会是一位了不起的女王!”他陷入了一种忧郁的沉默,直到我们在塞彭廷大道停下时才打破。
布赖尼庄园的门敞开着,一位老妇人站在台阶上。她带着讽刺的眼神看着我们走出四轮马车。
“我是不是应该称呼您为夏洛克·福尔摩斯先生?”她说。
“我是福尔摩斯先生,”我的同伴回答,带着一种质疑和有些惊讶的目光看着她。
“真的吗!我的女主人告诉我您可能会来。她今天早上和她的丈夫一起,乘坐查令十字车站的5:15火车去了欧洲大陆。”
“什么!”夏洛克·福尔摩斯惊愕地后退了一步,脸色苍白,带着羞愧。“您的意思是她已经离开了英格兰?”
“永远不再回来。”
“报纸呢?”国王沙哑地问道,“一切都完了。”
“我们拭目以待。”他推开仆人,冲进了客厅,国王和我跟在后面。家具散落在各个方向,拆毁的架子,打开的抽屉,仿佛那位女士在逃跑前匆忙地翻找过。福尔摩斯冲向门铃,扯开一个小滑动的百叶窗,把手伸进去,拉出了一张照片和一封信。照片上是艾琳·艾德勒本人穿着晚礼服的样子,信封上写着“夏洛克·福尔摩斯先生,待召唤时再打开。”我的朋友撕开了信封,我们三人一起阅读。信是在前一天的午夜写的,内容如下:
“亲爱的夏洛克·福尔摩斯先生——您真的做得很好。您完全把我蒙蔽了。直到火灾警报响起,我都没有丝毫怀疑。但是,当我发现自己已经暴露之后,我开始思考。几个月前,我就被警告过您。有人告诉我,如果国王雇佣了一个特工,那一定是您。您的地址也被给了我。尽管如此,您还是让我透露了您想知道的事情。即使在我开始怀疑之后,我也很难对这样一位亲爱的、善良的老牧师产生恶感。但是,你知道,我自己也受过演员的训练。男性服装对我来说并不陌生。我经常利用它带来的自由。我派约翰,车夫,去监视您,然后上楼,穿上我所谓的便装,然后下楼,就在您离开的时候。
“好吧,我跟着您到了您的门口,这样就确保了我确实是那位著名的夏洛克·福尔摩斯先生感兴趣的对象。然后我,相当不明智地,向您道了晚安,然后前往圣殿区去看我的丈夫。”
我们俩都认为,在如此强大的对手追击下,最好的资源就是逃跑;所以你明天会发现巢穴空无一人。至于照片,你的委托人可以安心了。我有一个比他更好的人爱我。国王可以随心所欲,无需担心一个他曾残酷伤害过的人的阻碍。我保留它只是为了保护自己,并保留一把永远能让我免受他未来可能采取的任何行动的武器。我留下了一张他可能想要的照片;而我,亲爱的福尔摩斯先生,
“非常真诚地,
“艾琳·诺顿,原名艾德勒。”
“多么了不起的女性——哦,多么了不起的女性!”当我们三人读过这封信后,波希米亚国王大声说道。“我不是告诉过你她多么敏捷和果断吗?她不会成为一个出色的女王吗?她没有达到我的水平真是太遗憾了。”
“就我所见,这位女士确实与陛下您处于不同的水平,”福尔摩斯冷冷地说。“很抱歉,我未能让陛下您的生意取得更成功的结局。”
“恰恰相反,我亲爱的先生,”国王大声说道;“没有什么比这更成功了。我知道她的承诺是不可侵犯的。照片现在就像在火中一样安全。”
“很高兴听到陛下您这么说。”
“我非常感激您。请告诉我我该如何报答您。这个戒指——”他从手指上滑下一个翡翠蛇形戒指,放在手心。
“陛下您有一样东西,我甚至更珍视,”福尔摩斯说。
“您只管说出您想要的。”
“这张照片!”
国王惊讶地看着他。
“艾琳的照片!”他喊道。“当然,如果您想要的话。”
“谢谢陛下。那么这件事就到此为止了。我有幸祝愿您有一个美好的一天。”他鞠了一躬,转身离开时没有注意到国王伸出的手,然后他和我一起走向他的房间。
就是这样,一场大丑闻威胁要影响波希米亚王国,而福尔摩斯先生的最好计划却被一位女性的智慧击败了。他过去常常嘲笑女性的聪明,但最近我没有听到他这样做。当他提到艾琳·艾德勒,或者提到她的照片时,他总是用“这位”女性的尊称。
II. 红发league
去年秋天的一天,我拜访了我的朋友,福尔摩斯先生,发现他正在与一位非常胖、脸色红润、头发火红的老年绅士深入交谈。我因为打扰而道歉,正准备离开,这时福尔摩斯突然把我拉进房间,关上了门。
“亲爱的华生,您来得正是时候,”他热情地说。
“我担心您正忙。”
“是的,我确实很忙。”
“那么我可以等在隔壁房间。”
“一点也不。这位威尔逊先生,在我的许多最成功的案件中一直是我的伙伴和助手,我毫不怀疑,他也会在您的案件中发挥极大的作用。”
那位胖绅士半起身,点头致意,用他那被脂肪包围的小眼睛快速地投来询问的目光。
“请坐到沙发上吧,”福尔摩斯说着,又回到了他的扶手椅上,像往常在审慎的场合那样,将手指尖并在一起。“亲爱的华生,我知道你和我一样喜欢那些奇特的事物,以及那些超出常规和日常生活的平淡无奇。你通过热情地记录,并且,如果你不介意我这么说,通过美化我许多小小的冒险故事,已经表现出了你对它们的喜爱。”
“您的案件确实让我非常感兴趣,”我说。
“你记得那天我们进入玛丽·萨瑟兰小姐提出的简单问题时,我说的那句话吗?我说,对于奇特的效果和非凡的组合,我们必须回到生活中去,因为生活总是比任何想象都要大胆。”
“我对此有所怀疑。”
“是的,医生,但你最终还是会认同我的观点,否则我会不断地向你堆砌事实,直到你的理智在这些事实面前崩溃,承认我是对的。现在,杰abez·威尔逊先生今天早上特地来拜访我,开始讲述一个承诺将成为我最近听到的最奇特的故事。你已经听我提到过,最奇特和最独特的事情往往与较大的罪行无关,而是与较小的罪行有关,有时甚至是在有疑问是否确实发生了犯罪的情况下。据我所知,我无法确定这个案件是否属于犯罪,但事件的发展过程确实是我所听到的最奇特之一。也许,威尔逊先生,您能大发慈悲,重新开始您的叙述。我之所以请求您这样做,不仅是因为我的朋友华生没有听到开头部分,也因为这个故事的特殊性质让我迫切想要从您的口中听到每一个可能的细节。通常,当我听到一些关于事件进程的轻微暗示时,我能够根据记忆中成千上万的其他类似案件来指导自己。在这个例子中,我不得不承认,据我最好的判断,这些事实是独一无二的。”
那位身材丰满的客户挺起胸膛,带着一丝小小的骄傲,从他那件大衣的内侧口袋里掏出一张脏兮兮、皱巴巴的报纸。他低头浏览广告栏,头向前倾,报纸平铺在膝盖上,我趁机仔细打量了这个人,模仿我的同伴,试图从他的衣着或外貌中找出可能的线索。
然而,我的观察并没有得到太多收获。我们的访客显然是一位典型的英国商人,平凡无奇,肥胖、自负且行动迟缓。他穿着宽松的灰色牧羊人呢裤,一件不太干净的黑色礼服外套,前面没有扣上扣子,一件灰色的背心,上面挂着一条沉重的铜质阿尔伯特链,还有一个方形穿孔的金属片作为装饰品。一顶破旧的礼帽和一件褪色的棕色大衣,领口处有皱褶的天鹅绒,放在他旁边的椅子上。总的来说,无论我怎么看,这个男人身上没有什么特别之处,除了他那燃烧般的红头发,以及他脸上极度沮丧和不悦的表情。
福尔摩斯先生敏锐的目光捕捉到了我的动作,他微笑着摇了摇头,注意到我询问的眼神。“除了显而易见的事实,比如他曾经干过体力活,吸鼻烟,是共济会成员,去过中国,以及最近写了很多东西,我无法推断出其他信息。”
杰abez·威尔逊先生在椅子上猛地一震,食指按在报纸上,但眼睛却盯着我的同伴。
“福尔摩斯先生,您是怎么知道这些的?您是怎么知道,比如说,我曾经干过体力活的?这就像福音书一样真实,因为我最初是一名船上的木匠。”
“您的手,我亲爱的先生。您的右手比左手大得多。您用它工作过,肌肉更加发达。”
“那么,鼻烟和共济会呢?”
“我不会侮辱您的智慧,告诉您我是怎么看出来的,尤其是您违反了您团体的严格规定,使用了一个圆规和直尺胸针。”
“哦,当然,我忘了这件事。但是写作呢?”
“还有什么能表明您右袖口五英寸处那么亮的袖口,而左袖口靠近肘部的平滑补丁,您在桌子上休息手的地方?”
“那么,中国呢?”
“您右腕上方立即文身的鱼只能是在中国文上去的。我对文身有小小的研究,甚至为此主题的文献做出了贡献。那种将鱼鳞染成细腻粉红色的技巧是中国的特色。当我再看到您手表链上挂着的中国硬币时,事情就更加简单了。”
杰abez·威尔逊先生大笑起来。“哎呀,我从没想过!”他说,“我一开始以为您有什么高招,但现在看来,原来什么都没有。”
“华生,”福尔摩斯说,“我开始觉得我在解释上犯了一个错误。‘未知即伟大’,你知道,我那可怜的名声,尽管如此,如果这样坦白,恐怕会遭受灭顶之灾。您能不能找到那则广告,威尔逊先生?”
“是的,我现在找到了,”他回答道,他那粗红的手指半插在专栏中间。“就在这里。这就是一切开始的地方。您自己读一读,先生。”
我从他手中接过报纸,读道:
“致红发联盟:鉴于美国宾夕法尼亚州利巴嫩已故伊齐基亚·霍普金斯先生的遗赠,现在又空出一个职位,红发联盟的成员将因纯粹的名义性服务而获得每周4英镑的薪水。所有身体健康、心智健全且年满二十一岁的红发男子均有资格申请。请在周一上午十一点亲自到联盟办公室,即舰队街7号波普法庭,向邓肯·罗斯先生申请。”
“这究竟是什么意思?”我反复阅读这则不同寻常的公告后,不禁惊呼。
福尔摩斯咯咯地笑了起来,像他心情愉快时那样在椅子上扭动身体。“这有点偏离常规,不是吗?”他说。“现在,威尔逊先生,从头开始,告诉我们关于您自己、您的家庭以及这则广告对您命运的影响。首先,医生,记下报纸和日期。”
“这是1890年4月27日的《晨报》。刚好两个月前。”
“很好。现在,威尔逊先生?”
“嗯,正如我之前告诉您的,福尔摩斯先生,”杰abez·威尔逊说着,用手帕擦着额头;“我在城市附近的科伯格广场经营一家小当铺。这不是什么大生意,近年来它只能勉强维持生计。我以前能雇两个助手,但现在只有一个;如果他不是愿意拿半薪来学习业务,我恐怕连这份工作都难以维持。”
“这位乐于助人的年轻人叫什么名字?”福尔摩斯问道。
“他叫文森特·斯波尔丁,他也不算年轻人。很难说他的年龄。福尔摩斯先生,我找不到比他更聪明的助手了;而且我知道他完全有能力赚得我所能给他的两倍。但毕竟,如果他满意,我为什么还要给他灌输其他想法呢?”
“为什么,确实如此?您似乎非常幸运,能有一位愿意接受低于市场价格的雇员。在这个时代,雇主们很少有这样的经历。我不知道您的助手是否和您的广告一样引人注目。”
“哦,他也有他的缺点,”威尔逊先生说。“他从不擅长摄影。应该用脑的时候他却拿着相机拍照,然后像兔子躲进洞里一样钻进地下室冲洗照片。这是他的主要缺点,但总的来说,他是个好工人。他身上没有恶习。”
“我想他现在还在您那里,对吧?”
“是的,先生。他和一个十四岁的女孩,她能做一些简单的烹饪,并保持这个地方干净——这就是我家里所有的人了,因为我是个鳏夫,从未有过家庭。我们三个人生活得很安静,先生;我们有一所房子住,能还债,如果我们不做别的。
“让我们陷入困境的第一件事就是那则广告。斯波尔丁,就在八周前的这一天,他带着这张报纸走进办公室,他说:
“‘但愿我是红头发的人,威尔逊先生。’”
“‘为什么那样?’我问道。”
“‘为什么,’他说,‘这里红头发的联盟又有一个空缺了。对于得到它的人来说,这价值相当可观,我听说空缺比人还多,所以理事们正绞尽脑汁想办法处理这笔钱。如果我的头发能变颜色,这里就有一个小窝等着我去住呢。’”
“‘那么,那是什么?’我问道。您看,福尔摩斯先生,我是个非常宅心的人,因为我的生意是主动找上门来的,而不是我必须出门去找,所以我常常连续几周都不踏出家门。这样,我对外面发生的事情了解不多,我总是很高兴听到一些新闻。
“‘你从未听说过红头发的联盟吗?’他睁大了眼睛问道。”
“‘从未。’”
“‘哎呀,我真奇怪,因为你完全有资格申请其中的一个空缺。’”
“‘那它们值多少钱?’我问道。”
“‘哦,只是每年两百英镑左右,但工作很轻松,不会太影响你其他的工作。’”
“嗯,您很容易想象这让我竖起了耳朵,因为我的生意这几年一直不太好,额外的两百英镑会很有用。
“‘告诉我所有关于它的事情。’我说。”
“‘嗯,’他说,给我看了广告,“您自己看吧,红头发的联盟有一个空缺,这是您申请详情的地址。据我所知,这个联盟是由一个美国百万富翁,伊齐基尔·霍普金斯创立的,他的生活方式非常奇特。他自己就是红头发,他对所有红头发的人都有很大的同情心;所以,当他去世时,发现他把巨额遗产留在了理事们的手中,并指示他们用利息为那些头发是那种颜色的人提供轻松的工作。据我所知,报酬很高,工作很少。”
“‘但是,’我说,‘会有成千上万的红头发人申请。’”
“‘没有你想象的那么多,’他回答道。‘你看,这实际上只限于伦敦人,以及成年男子。这位美国人年轻时就从伦敦出发,他想为老城做件好事。再说,我听说如果你的头发是淡红色、深红色,或者不是真正的鲜亮、炽热、火焰般的红色,那么你申请也是徒劳。现在,威尔逊先生,如果你愿意申请,你只需走进来;但也许为了几百英镑而麻烦自己并不值得。’”
“现在,先生们,这是一个事实,你们可以亲自看到,我的头发颜色非常浓郁,所以我认为,如果在这个问题上要竞争,我和任何我遇到的男人都有同样的机会。文森特·斯波尔丁似乎对此了解很多,我想他可能会派上用场,所以我让他把百叶窗关上,当天就和我一起去。他非常愿意休息一天,所以我们关上店铺,出发去广告上给出的地址。”
“我永远都不希望再看到那样的景象了,福尔摩斯先生。从北、南、东、西,每个头发带有红色的人都已经走进城市来回应广告。舰队街挤满了红发的人,波普法院看起来像是一个搬运工的橙子车。我没想到整个国家会有这么多的人因为那则广告而聚集在一起。他们的颜色各不相同——稻草色、柠檬色、橙色、砖红色、爱尔兰猎犬色、肝色、粘土色;但正如斯波尔丁所说,真正具有那种鲜艳火焰色的人并不多。当我看到等待的人那么多,我几乎要绝望地放弃;但斯波尔丁不同意。我无法想象他是怎么做到的,但他推搡、冲撞,直到把我挤进人群中,一直走到通往办公室的台阶。楼梯上人流如织,有的满怀希望地上楼,有的失望地下楼;但我们尽可能地挤了进去,很快就到了办公室。”
“你的经历非常有趣,”福尔摩斯在客户暂停并用力嗅了一撮鼻烟来恢复记忆时说道。“请继续你非常有趣的陈述。”
“办公室里只有两张木椅和一张橡木桌子,后面坐着一个比我头发还要红的小个子男人。他对每个应聘者说几句话,然后总能找到一些缺点来淘汰他们。看来得到一个空缺并不像想象中那么容易。然而,当轮到我们时,那个小个子男人对我们比对其他人都更加友好,他关上门,这样我们就可以私下交谈了。
“‘这是杰贝兹·威尔逊先生,’我的助手说,‘他愿意填补联盟的一个空缺。’”
“‘他非常适合这个职位,’另一个人回答道。‘他具备所有必要的条件。我实在想不起曾经见过如此出色的事物。’他向后退了一步,将头歪向一边,凝视着我的头发,直到我感到非常害羞。然后他突然冲上前,紧紧握住我的手,热情地祝贺我取得成功。
“‘犹豫是不公平的,’他说。‘不过,我相信你会原谅我采取这种明显的预防措施。’说着,他双手抓住我的头发,用力拉扯,直到我痛得大喊。‘你的眼睛里有水,’他放手后说。‘我感觉到一切正如预期。但我们必须小心,因为我们已经两次被假发欺骗,一次被颜料欺骗。我可以给你讲一些关于鞋匠蜡的故事,足以让你对人性感到厌恶。’他走到窗边,大声喊道,空缺已被填补。下面传来一阵失望的呻吟声,人们纷纷朝不同方向散去,直到除了我的红发和经理的红发外,再也看不到其他红发。
“‘我的名字是邓肯·罗斯先生,’他说,‘我自己也是我们那位高尚的慈善家留下的基金受益人之一。威尔逊先生,你已婚吗?你有家庭吗?’
“我回答说,我没有。
“他的脸色立刻沉了下来。
“‘哎呀!’他严肃地说,‘这真是太严重了!我很遗憾听到你这么说。这个基金当然是用来传播和维持红发人的,以及他们的生计。你竟然是个单身汉,这非常不幸。’
“听到这里,霍姆斯先生,我觉得我可能最终得不到这个职位了;但经过几分钟的思考,他说一切都会好起来的。
“‘如果是别人,’他说,‘这个反对意见可能是致命的,但我们必须在你这样的头发条件下放宽标准。你什么时候能开始你的新工作?’
“‘嗯,有点尴尬,因为我已经有了一份工作,’我说。
“‘哦,威尔逊先生,别担心那个!’文森特·斯波尔丁说。‘我会帮你处理这件事的。’
“‘工作时间是什么时候?’我问。
“‘十点到两点。’
“霍姆斯先生,当铺的业务大多在晚上进行,尤其是在周四和周五晚上,也就是发薪日的前夕;所以早上赚点钱对我来说非常合适。此外,我知道我的助手是个好人,他会处理任何出现的问题。
“‘这非常适合我,’我说。‘工资是多少?’
“‘每周4英镑。’
“‘工作内容是什么?’
“‘纯粹是象征性的。’
“‘你说的纯粹象征性是什么意思?’
“‘嗯,你必须整个时间都在办公室,或者至少在建筑物里。如果你离开,你将永远失去你的整个职位。遗嘱对此非常明确。如果你在那个时间内离开办公室,你就没有遵守条件。’”
“一天只有四小时,我不认为我会离开。”我说。
“任何借口都无法奏效,”邓肯·罗斯先生说道;“无论是生病、生意还是其他任何事情。你必须待在那里,否则你就失去了这份工作。”
“那么工作内容是什么?”
“是要抄写《大英百科全书》。那里有它的第一卷。你必须自己找墨水、笔和吸墨纸,但我们提供这张桌子和椅子。你明天准备好了吗?”
“当然。”我回答道。
“那么,再见,杰abez·威尔逊先生,让我再次恭喜你获得这样一个重要的职位,你很幸运能够得到它。”他鞠了一躬,把我送出了房间,我和我的助手一起回家,我高兴得几乎不知道该说些什么或做些什么。
“好吧,我整天都在思考这个问题,到了晚上我又变得情绪低落;因为我已经完全说服自己,这一切肯定是一场大骗局或欺诈,尽管我不知道它的目的可能是什么。任何人都不可能立下这样的遗嘱,或者他们会为这样简单的事情——抄写《大英百科全书》——支付如此之高的费用。文森特·斯波尔丁尽力让我振作起来,但到了睡前,我已经把自己从这个想法中完全说服了。然而,第二天早上,我决定无论如何都要去看看,于是买了一瓶墨水,拿了一支羽毛笔和七张信纸,我出发去了波普法院。
“让我惊讶和高兴的是,一切都很顺利。桌子已经为我准备好了,邓肯·罗斯先生也在那里,确保我能开始工作。他让我从字母A开始,然后他就离开了;但他时不时地会进来,看看我是否一切顺利。两点钟的时候,他向我道了别,夸奖了我写的数量,然后锁上了办公室的门。
“这种情况一直持续着,福尔摩斯先生,到了周六,经理进来,放下四枚金币作为我一周工作的报酬。接下来的那一周和下一周都是如此。每天早上十点我都在那里,每天下午两点离开。渐渐地,邓肯·罗斯先生只在早上来一次,然后,过了一段时间,他甚至不再来了。当然,我从来不敢离开房间哪怕一秒钟,因为我不知道他什么时候会来,这份工作如此好,非常适合我,我不愿意冒失去它的风险。
“就这样过去了八周,我已经写完了关于修道院、射箭、盔甲、建筑、阿提卡等内容,希望勤奋工作后很快就能写到B。这花了我一些信纸,我差不多已经填满了一个架子。然后,突然间,整个事情就结束了。”
“结束了?”
“是的,先生。今天早上之前。我像往常一样在十点钟去上班,但门是关着的,锁着的,中间钉了一块小纸板。”
他举起一块大约和一张便条纸大小的白色纸板。上面写着:
“红发联盟解散。1890年10月9日。”
福尔摩斯和我审视着这个简短的公告和背后那副懊丧的面容,直到这件事的滑稽之处完全压倒了其他所有考虑,我们俩都爆发出一阵大笑。
“我看不出这有什么好笑的,”我们的客户大声说道,他的红头发一直红到发根。“如果你们只能嘲笑我,我可以去别的地方。”
“不,不,”福尔摩斯喊道,把他推回了他半站起来的椅子。“我绝不会错过你的案子。这案子非常有趣,非常不寻常。但是,如果你不介意我这么说的话,这中间确实有点好笑。请问你发现门上的纸板时采取了什么措施?”
“我震惊了,先生。我不知道该怎么办。然后我去附近的办公室看了看,但似乎没有人知道这件事。最后,我去找了房东,他是一位住在底楼的会计师,我问他红发联盟怎么了。他说他从未听说过这样一个组织。然后我问了他邓肯·罗斯先生是谁。他回答说这个名字对他来说很陌生。
“‘嗯,’我说,‘4号房的先生。’
“‘什么,那个红头发的人?’
“‘是的。’
“‘哦,’他说,‘他的名字是威廉·莫里斯。他是一位律师,正在用我的房间作为临时方便,直到他的新办公室准备好。他昨天搬走了。’
“‘我能在哪里找到他?’
“‘哦,在他的新办公室。他确实告诉了我地址。是的,国王爱德华街17号,靠近圣保罗教堂。’”
“我开始去找,福尔摩斯先生,但当我到达那个地址时,那里是一家制造人造膝盖的工厂,里面没有人听说过威廉·莫里斯先生或邓肯·罗斯先生。”
“然后你做了什么?”福尔摩斯问道。
“我回到家,萨克斯-科堡广场,我向我的助手寻求建议。但他无法帮我任何忙。他只能说如果我等待,我会通过邮件听到消息。但那还不够,福尔摩斯先生。我不想在没有抗争的情况下失去这样一个职位,所以,既然我听说您愿意给那些需要帮助的穷人提供建议,我就立刻来找您。”
“你做得非常明智,”福尔摩斯说。“你的案子非常不寻常,我很乐意调查。根据你告诉我的,我认为这个问题背后可能隐藏着比表面看起来更严重的问题。”
“足够严重了!”杰abez·威尔逊先生说。“哎呀,我每周损失了四英镑。”
“就你个人而言,”福尔摩斯说道,“我看不出你对这个非凡的联盟有什么不满。相反,据我所知,你因此变得富有了三十英镑,更不用说你在所有属于字母A范畴的课题上所获得的那一丝丝知识了。他们并没有从你这里得到任何东西。”
“是的,先生。但我想要了解他们,他们是谁,他们为什么要对我这个玩笑——如果这算是一个玩笑——下手。这对他们来说代价可不低,他们为此花费了两英镑三先令。”
“我们将尽力为你澄清这些疑问。首先,威尔逊先生,关于你那位首先引起你注意广告的助手——他和你共事多久了?”
“大约一个月吧。”
“他是怎么来的?”
“响应广告。”
“他是唯一应聘者吗?”
“不,我有十二个应聘者。”
“你为什么选择他?”
“因为他手头活儿干得好,而且价格便宜。”
“实际上,是半薪。”
“是的。”
“这个文森特·斯波尔丁是个什么样的人?”
“个子小,身材敦实,行动敏捷,虽然已经三十多岁了,但脸上却没一根胡子。他的额头上有块白色的酸液溅痕。”
福尔摩斯激动地坐直了身子。“我就知道是这样,”他说,“你注意到他的耳朵是戴耳环的吗?”
“是的,先生。他告诉我,他小时候是一个吉普赛人给他打的耳洞。”
“嗯!”福尔摩斯说着,又陷入了深思。“他还在你那里吗?”
“哦,是的,先生;我刚刚离开他。”
“在你不在的时候,你的生意都处理得怎么样了?”
“没什么好抱怨的,先生。早上通常没什么事可做。”
“这就够了,威尔逊先生。我会在一两天内就这个问题给你一个意见。今天是周六,我希望到周一我们就能得出结论。”
“好吧,华生,”福尔摩斯在我们客人离开后说,“你对这件事怎么看?”
“我没什么看法,”我坦率地回答,“这是一件非常神秘的事情。”
“一般来说,”福尔摩斯说,“越是离奇的事情,其神秘性就越小。真正让人困惑的是那些平凡无奇、毫无特色的罪行,就像一个平凡的面孔是最难辨认的。但我必须迅速处理这件事。”
“那你打算怎么办?”我问。
“抽烟,”他回答,“这是一个需要三根烟的问题,我请你五十分钟内不要和我说话。”他蜷缩在椅子里,瘦削的双膝缩到鹰钩鼻前,闭上眼睛,把他的黑陶烟斗像某些怪鸟的喙一样伸出来。我本来以为他睡着了,我自己也差点打起瞌睡,突然他像下定决心的人一样从椅子上跳了起来,把烟斗放在壁炉架上。
“Sarasate今天下午将在圣詹姆斯大厅演奏,”他评论道。
“沃森,你怎么看?你的病人能让你抽出几个小时吗?”
“我今天没什么事。我的诊所从不会太吸引人。”
“那么戴上你的帽子,一起来吧。我首先要穿过市区,我们可以边走边吃午饭。我发现节目单上有很多德国音乐,这比意大利或法国音乐更合我的口味。它很内省,我想内省一下。快走!”
我们乘坐地铁到了艾尔德里奇街;然后步行一段路就到了萨克森-科堡广场,这是我们早上听到的那个奇特故事的发生地。那是一个狭小、简陋、略显优雅的地方,四排灰暗的两层砖房向外望去,那里有一个用栅栏围起来的小院落,里面有一片杂草丛生的草地和几丛枯萎的冷杉树,它们在充满烟雾和不适的气氛中艰难地抗争。三颗金球和一块写有“JABEZ WILSON”字样的棕色木板,位于一栋角落的房子上,宣布了我们的红发客户从事业务的地方。福尔摩斯站在它面前,歪着头,用他那皱褶的眼帘之间明亮的眼神仔细打量着一切。然后他慢慢地沿着街道走去,又走回来,站在角落处,依然敏锐地观察着房子。最后,他回到了当铺,用他的手杖在人行道上重重地敲打了两三下,走到门口敲了敲门。一个看起来精神焕发、干净刮脸的年轻人立刻打开了门,请他进去。
“谢谢,”福尔摩斯说,“我只是想问问您怎么去斯特兰德。”
“第三个路口右转,第四个路口左转,”助手迅速回答,然后关上了门。
“这小子挺机灵,”我们走开时,福尔摩斯评论道。“在我看来,他是伦敦第四个最聪明的人,至于胆量,我不确定他是否应该排在第三。我以前对他有所了解。”
“显然,”我说,“威尔逊先生的助手在这个红发联盟的谜团中起着重要作用。我敢肯定,你询问路线只是为了看看他。”
“不是他。”
“那是谁?”
“他的裤子膝盖。”
“你看到了什么?”
“我预料会看到的东西。”
“你为什么敲打人行道?”
我们转过拐角,从那座退休的萨克森-科堡广场出来,眼前的道路与广场形成了极大的反差,就像画面的正面与背面一样。这是通往城市北部和西部的主要干道之一。路面被汹涌的商业洪流阻塞,形成一股双向潮汐,而人行道上则布满了匆忙的行人。当我们看着那一排精美的商店和庄重的商业建筑时,很难想象它们实际上紧邻着我们刚刚离开的那片褪色、停滞的广场。
“让我看看,”福尔摩斯站在拐角处,沿着街道望去,“我想记下这里的房屋顺序。我对伦敦的了解精确到一丝不苟,这是我的一个爱好。这里有莫蒂默的烟草店,那个小报摊,城市和郊区银行的科堡分行,素食餐厅,以及麦克弗莱恩的马车制造厂。这就带我们到了另一块区域。现在,医生,我们的工作已经完成了,是时候放松一下了。来个三明治,一杯咖啡,然后去小提琴的世界,那里充满了甜蜜、精致和和谐,没有红头发的客户用他们的难题来烦我们。”
我的朋友是一位热情的音乐家,他不仅是一位非常出色的表演者,还是一位才华横溢的作曲家。整个下午,他都坐在包厢里,沉浸在最完美的幸福之中,轻轻地挥动着他那细长的手指,随着音乐节奏摇摆,而他的微笑面容和懒散、梦幻般的眼睛,与侦探福尔摩斯的形象截然不同。在他的个性中,这种双重性质交替显现,他极端的精确和敏锐,在我看来,是他对抗偶尔在他身上占主导地位的诗歌和沉思情绪的反应。他的性格摇摆不定,从极端的懒惰到极度的精力充沛;而且,正如我所知,当他连续几天懒散地坐在扶手椅中,沉浸在他的创作和黑体字版书籍中时,他从未如此可怕。那时,狩猎的欲望会突然袭来,他的卓越推理能力会提升到直觉的水平,以至于那些不了解他方法的人会对他投来怀疑的目光,就像看待一个知识非同凡响的人一样。那天下午,当我看到他如此沉浸在圣詹姆斯音乐厅的音乐中时,我觉得他可能正准备对那些他决心追捕的人展开一场恶战。
“你肯定想回家,医生,”当我们走出音乐厅时,他评论道。
“是的,这样最好。”
“我还有一些事情要做,需要几个小时。科堡广场的事情很严重。”
“为什么严重?”
一项重大的罪行正在酝酿之中。我有充分的理由相信,我们还有时间阻止它。但今天是星期六,这使事情变得更加复杂。我今晚需要你的帮助。”
“什么时候?”
“十点钟就足够早了。”
“我将在十点钟到达贝克街。”
“很好。顺便说一句,华生医生,可能会有一些危险,所以请你把你的手枪放进口袋里。”他挥了挥手,转身,瞬间消失在人群中。
我相信自己并不比邻居们愚蠢,但与福尔摩斯打交道时,我总是感到自己愚蠢无比。这里我听到了他听到的一切,我看到了他看到的一切,然而从他的话中可以看出,他不仅看得很清楚已经发生的事情,而且还能预见即将发生的事情,而对我来说,整个事情仍然混乱而荒诞。当我驱车回到肯辛顿的家时,我在思考这一切,从那位红头发的《百科全书》抄写员的不寻常故事,到他在萨克森-科堡广场的拜访,以及他与我道别的那些不祥之言。这次夜间探险是什么?为什么我要携带武器?我们去哪里,我们要做什么?我从福尔摩斯那里得到暗示,这位面容光滑的当铺助理是一个可怕的人物——一个可能会玩深层次游戏的人。我试图解开这个谜团,但最终绝望地放弃了,直到夜晚带来解释。
我九点十五分从家里出发,穿过公园,然后穿过牛津街来到贝克街。有两辆出租马车停在门口,当我进入走廊时,我听到了上面的声音。进入他的房间,我发现福尔摩斯正在与两个男人热烈地交谈,其中一个我认出是苏格兰场的官方侦探代理彼得·琼斯,而另一个是一个又高又瘦、面容忧郁的男人,戴着一顶非常闪亮的帽子,穿着一件令人压抑的正统礼服。
“哈!我们的队伍已经齐全了,”福尔摩斯说着,扣上他的豆绿色夹克,从架子上拿起他那沉重的猎鞭。“华生,我想你已经认识苏格兰场的琼斯先生了?让我来介绍一下我们的同伴,梅里韦瑟先生。”
“医生,你看,我们又要成双成对了,”琼斯以他那种自以为是的口吻说。“我们的这位朋友是一个出色的追逐者。他需要的只是一个老狗来帮助他完成追逐。”
“我希望我们的追逐不会以一只野鹅结束,”梅里韦瑟先生忧郁地观察道。
“先生,您对福尔摩斯先生可以有很大的信心,”警察代理傲慢地说。“他有自己的小方法,如果我不介意这么说的话,这些方法过于理论化和幻想,但他身上有着侦探的潜质。说他在索尔托谋杀案和阿拉加宝藏案中比官方力量更接近真相,并不过分。”
“哦,如果您这么说,琼斯先生,那就没问题了,”陌生人恭敬地说。“不过,我必须承认,我真的很想念我的橡胶。这是我二十七年来第一次没有橡胶的周六晚上。”
“我想您会发现,”福尔摩斯说,“今晚您将赌的筹码比以往任何时候都要高,而且游戏将更加刺激。对您来说,梅里韦瑟先生,筹码将是三万英镑;对您,琼斯先生,将是您想要抓住的那个男人。”
“约翰·克莱,杀人犯、小偷、破坏者和伪造者。他是个年轻人,梅里韦瑟先生,但他是他那一行的领头羊,我宁愿把镯子戴在他身上,也不愿戴在伦敦的任何罪犯身上。约翰·克莱是个非凡的人。他的祖父是一位皇家公爵,他自己也曾在伊顿和牛津大学就读。他的头脑像他的手指一样狡猾,尽管我们到处都能看到他的踪迹,但我们永远不知道他在哪里。他这周可能在苏格兰撬开保险箱,下周就可能去康沃尔筹集资金建造孤儿院。我已经追踪他多年,至今还没有见过他本人。”
“我希望今晚能荣幸地为您介绍他。我也和约翰·克莱先生有过几次小小的交锋,我同意您的看法,他是他那一行的顶尖人物。不过,现在已经过了十点,我们该出发了。如果你们两位愿意乘坐第一辆马车,华生和我将乘坐第二辆。”
在漫长的车程中,福尔摩斯并不健谈,他靠在车座上,哼着下午听到的曲调。我们穿过一条条煤气灯照亮的街道,仿佛进入了一个无尽的迷宫,直到我们出现在法林顿街。
“我们现在已经很接近了,”我的朋友说道。“这位梅里韦瑟先生是银行的董事,他对这件事也很有兴趣。我认为让琼斯先生也和我们一起也很合适。虽然他在自己的职业上是个十足的傻瓜,但他不是个坏人。他有一个优点。一旦他抓住某人,他就像斗牛犬一样勇敢,像龙虾一样坚韧。我们到了,他们正在等着我们。”
我们来到了早上遇到的那条拥挤的大街。我们让马车离开,在梅里韦瑟先生的指引下,我们穿过一条狭窄的通道,然后通过一扇侧门,他为我们打开了门。里面是一条小走廊,尽头是一扇非常厚重的铁门。这扇门也打开了,通向一段蜿蜒的石阶,最终到达另一扇令人畏惧的大门。梅里韦瑟先生停下来点燃了一盏灯笼,然后带领我们穿过一条黑暗、散发着泥土气息的通道,最后打开第三扇门,进入一个巨大的地窖,四周堆满了板条箱和巨大的箱子。
“从上面来看,您并不容易受到攻击,”福尔摩斯举起灯笼,环顾四周,说道。
“也不是从下面,”梅里韦瑟先生说着,用他的拐杖敲打着地板上排列的旗帜。“哎呀,亲爱的,这声音听起来太空洞了!”他惊讶地抬头说道。
“我真的得请你稍微安静一点!”福尔摩斯严肃地说,“你已经危及了我们整个探险的成功。我能否请你坐到那些箱子中的一个上,不要干涉?”
庄重的梅里韦瑟先生带着一脸受伤的表情坐在了一个板条箱上,而福尔摩斯则跪在地上,拿起灯笼和放大镜,开始仔细检查石缝之间的裂缝。几秒钟后,他就满意了,因为他又跳了起来,把眼镜放进口袋。
“我们至少还有一个小时的时间,”他说,“因为他们在把那位善良的当铺老板安全送进被窝之前,不可能采取任何行动。然后他们不会浪费一分钟,因为他们越早完成他们的工作,他们逃离的时间就越长。我们现在——医生——正如你无疑已经猜到的——在一所主要伦敦银行的城市分行的地下室里。梅里韦瑟先生是董事会的主席,他会向你解释为什么伦敦的胆大妄为的罪犯现在对这间地下室有这么大的兴趣。”
“这是我们法国的金子,”董事低声说,“我们收到了几份警告,说可能会有人试图抢夺它。”
“你们的法国金子?”
“是的。几个月前,我们为了加强我们的资源,从法兰西银行借了3万拿破仑金币。现在有人知道我们从未拆开过这些钱,它们仍然躺在我们的地下室里。我坐的这个板条箱里装着2, 000拿破仑金币,金币被铅箔层层包裹。我们现在的金属储备比通常一个分行办公室所保持的要大得多,董事们对此有所疑虑。”
“这些疑虑是非常有道理的,”福尔摩斯评论道,“现在是我们安排我们的小计划的时候了。我预计一个小时之内事情就会达到高潮。在此期间,梅里韦瑟先生,我们必须把那个屏幕放在那个暗灯上。”
“坐在黑暗中?”
“恐怕是这样的。我口袋里带了一副扑克牌,我想,既然我们是一群‘四人牌局’,你最终还是可以玩你的橡胶牌。但我看敌人的准备工作已经进行得这么远,我们无法冒险留下灯光。首先,我们必须选择我们的位置。这些人非常大胆,尽管我们会让他们处于不利地位,但如果我们不小心,他们可能会对我们造成伤害。我将站在这个板条箱后面,你们就躲在那些后面。然后,当我向他们闪灯时,迅速包围他们。如果他们开枪,沃森,不要犹豫,开枪打倒他们。”
我把上了膛的手枪放在我蹲伏的木箱顶部。福尔摩斯拉动手电筒的滑片,我们陷入了漆黑一片——如此彻底的黑暗,我前所未有地体验过。热金属的味道让我们确信灯光仍在那里,随时准备闪亮。对我来说,神经紧张到了极点,这种突如其来的黑暗和地窖里冷冽潮湿的空气让我感到压抑。
“他们只有一个退路,”福尔摩斯低声说,“那就是穿过房子回到萨克森-科堡广场。我希望你已经按照我要求的做了,琼斯?”
“我已经有了一名巡警和两名警官在前门等候。”
“那么,我们已经堵住了所有出口。现在我们必须保持安静,等待。”
那段时间似乎过得多么漫长!事后比较了一下时间,不过一个半小时,但我觉得夜几乎要过去了,曙光在我们头顶上破晓。我的四肢疲惫僵硬,因为我害怕改变我的姿势;然而,我的神经紧张到了极点,我的听力如此敏锐,我不仅能听到同伴们的轻柔呼吸,还能分辨出粗壮的琼斯深沉、沉重的吸气声和银行董事细弱、叹息般的呼吸声。从我所在的位置,我可以越过箱子朝地板方向望去。突然,我的眼睛捕捉到了一丝光亮。
起初,那只是石板上的一抹暗淡火花。然后它逐渐变长,变成了一条黄色线条,接着,没有任何警告或声音,似乎有一道裂缝打开,一只手出现了,一只苍白、几乎像女性的手,在小小的光亮区域内摸索。一分钟或更长时间,那只手,带着扭曲的指头,从地板上伸了出来。然后它突然被抽回,一切又恢复了黑暗,除了那单一点亮的火花,它在石头之间标记了一个缝隙。
然而,它的消失只是短暂的。伴随着撕裂、撕扯的声音,一块宽阔的白色石头翻了个身,留下了一个方形、张开的洞,手电筒的光线从中流过。洞口露出了一个干净利落、少年般的面孔,他四处张望,然后,用一只手握住洞口的两侧,把自己拉到肩高和腰高,直到一条膝盖落在边缘上。一瞬间,他站在洞边,开始把他的一位同伴拖出来,那位同伴像他一样敏捷小巧,脸色苍白,头发浓密且鲜红。
“一切顺利,”他低声说,“你带好撬棒和袋子了吗?天哪!跳,阿奇,跳,我会为你争取时间!”
福尔摩斯猛地跳起,一把抓住了入侵者的衣领。另一个人钻进了洞里,我听到琼斯抓扯着他的裙子的声音。灯光照在一支手枪的枪管上,但福尔摩斯的马鞭挥舞下来,击中了那人的手腕,手枪在石地板上发出叮当声。
“没用的,约翰·克莱,”福尔摩斯平静地说,“你一点机会都没有。”
“我看出来了,”另一个人以极度的冷静回答。“我想我的同伴应该没事,尽管我看到你们抓住了他的外套尾巴。”
“门外有三个男人在等他,”福尔摩斯说。
“哦,真的!你似乎做得非常彻底。我必须向你表示敬意。”
“你也值得,”福尔摩斯回答。“你那个红头发的点子非常新颖且有效。”
“你很快就会见到你的同伴了,”琼斯说。“他下洞比我能快。就请你在这里稍等,我去固定一下帽子。”
“请你们不要用你们那肮脏的手碰我,”我们的囚犯在手铐铛铛作响地扣在他手腕上时说。“你们可能不知道,我的血管里流淌着皇家血液。当你们对我说话时,也请你们有礼貌地说‘先生’和‘请’。”
“好的,”琼斯带着一瞥和一声嗤笑说。“那么,先生,请跟我上楼,我们可以在那里叫一辆出租车,把您送到警察局。”
“这样更好,”约翰·克莱平静地说。他向我们三个人深深地鞠了一躬,然后被侦探押送着安静地走开了。
“真的,福尔摩斯先生,”当我们跟随着他们从地下室出来时,梅里韦瑟先生说,“我不知道银行该如何感谢你或回报你。毫无疑问,你以最彻底的方式侦破了并挫败了我所经历过的最坚决的银行抢劫企图。”
“我有一些自己的账要和约翰·克莱先生算,”福尔摩斯说。“在这件事上我花了一些小钱,我期望银行会退还给我,但除此之外,我已经得到了很多回报,那就是有了许多方面都是独一无二的经历,还有听到那个红头发的联盟的非常引人注目的叙述。”
“你看,华生,”他早上很早的时候解释道,我们坐在贝克街,一边喝着威士忌苏打,“从一开始就很明显,这个相当离奇的广告联盟事件和《百科全书》的复制,唯一可能的目的就是让这个不太聪明的当铺老板每天有几个小时不能露面。这是一种奇特的管理方式,但说实话,很难想出一个更好的办法。
这种方法无疑是被克莱的聪明才智所启发,由他同谋者的头发颜色所启发。每周4英镑的诱惑肯定能吸引他,对他们来说,这些钱又算得了什么,他们在赌的是成千上万的东西。他们登了广告,一个骗子暂时担任办公室的工作,另一个骗子诱导这个人申请这个职位,然后他们一起设法确保他每天早上都不在。从我听说这个助理只拿一半工资的时候起,我就很明显地觉得他有一些强烈的动机来确保这个职位。”
“但你怎么能猜到这个动机是什么呢?”
“如果家里有女人,我会怀疑这是一场低俗的阴谋。然而,这根本不可能。这个人的生意很小,他的家里没有什么能解释这种精心准备和如此巨大的开销。那么,这肯定是与家里无关的事情。那会是什么呢?我想到了这个助理对摄影的热爱,以及他消失在地窖里的把戏。地窖!这就是这个错综复杂的线索的终点。然后我调查了这个神秘的助理,发现我必须对付伦敦最冷静、最大胆的罪犯之一。他在地窖里做些什么——每天连续几个月需要好几个小时的事情。那会是什么呢?我想不出除了他正在挖一条通往另一座建筑的隧道之外的其他可能。”
“在我们去现场的时候,我已经有了这些发现。我用棍子敲打人行道让你感到惊讶,我是在确定地窖是向前延伸还是向后延伸。它不是向前延伸的。然后我按了门铃,正如我所希望的,是那个助理来应门。我们有过一些小冲突,但我们以前从未见过面。我几乎没有看他的脸。我关注的是他的膝盖。你自己也一定注意到了它们是多么的磨损、布满皱纹和污渍。它们讲述着那些挖掘的时光。唯一剩下的问题就是他们在挖什么。我走到拐角处,看到了城市和郊区银行紧邻我们的朋友的地盘,我觉得我已经解决了我的问题。当你开车回家参加音乐会后,我去了苏格兰场和银行董事会的主席那里,结果就是你现在看到的。”
“嗯,当他们关闭了他们的联盟办公室,这就是一个信号,表明他们不再关心杰贝兹·威尔逊先生的在场——换句话说,他们已经完成了他们的隧道。但是,他们必须尽快使用它,因为它可能会被发现,或者黄金可能会被移走。星期六对他们来说比任何其他日子都合适,因为它会给他们两天时间逃跑。出于所有这些原因,我预计他们今晚会来。”
“你分析得非常出色,”我由衷地赞叹道,“这是一个如此长的链条,而每一个环节都真实可信。”
“这让我免于无聊,”他打着哈欠回答。“唉!我已经感觉到它正在向我逼近。我的一生都在努力逃离生活的平凡。这些小问题帮助我做到了这一点。”
“你真是人类的恩人,”我说。
他耸了耸肩。“嗯,也许,毕竟,它还是有点用处的,”他评论道,“‘人无足轻重——作品才是全部’,就像古斯塔夫·福楼拜写给乔治·桑的信中所写。”
III. 身份案
“亲爱的朋友,”当我们坐在贝克街住所的火炉两侧时,夏洛克·福尔摩斯说,“生活比人类心智所能想象的一切都要奇特。我们不敢想象那些实际上是生活常态的事物。如果我们能手拉手飞出那扇窗户,轻轻地在城市上空盘旋,移走屋顶,窥视那些奇怪的事情,那些奇怪的巧合,那些计划,那些相反的目的,那些跨越几代人的奇妙事件链,最终导致最离奇的结果,那将使所有带有常规和预见性结论的虚构作品都变得陈腐而无益。”
“然而,我并不完全信服这一点,”我回答。“报纸上披露的案件通常都很简单,很粗俗。我们的警察报告中,现实主义被推向了极端,然而,必须承认,结果既不吸引人也不具有艺术性。”
“在产生现实主义效果时,必须使用一定的选择和判断力,”福尔摩斯评论道。“这在警察报告中是缺乏的,也许更注重的是法官的陈词滥调,而不是细节,对于观察者来说,这些细节包含了整个事件的本质。相信我,没有什么比平凡更不自然了。”
我微笑着摇了摇头。“我完全理解你的想法,”我说,“当然,作为一位非官方顾问,帮助那些在三大洲都感到困惑的人,你自然会接触到各种奇怪和奇异的事物。但是在这里”——我从地上捡起晨报——“让我们来做一个实际的测试。这是第一条标题,我首先注意到。‘丈夫对妻子的虐待。’有一半的版面,但我不用看就知道,这对我来说完全熟悉。当然,有第三者、酒精、推搡、打击、瘀伤、同情的姐妹或房东。最粗俗的作家也想不到比这更粗俗的内容。”
“确实,你的例子对你的论点来说是个不幸的例子,”福尔摩斯说着,接过报纸,扫了一眼。“这是邓达斯离婚案,碰巧我正在处理与之相关的一些小问题。这位丈夫是个禁酒主义者,没有其他女人,他受到控告的行为是他习惯在每餐结束时取出假牙,向妻子扔去,这,你也会承认,不是普通故事讲述者会想象得出的行为。医生,抽一撮鼻烟,承认我在你的例子上赢了。”
他递给我一个古老的金鼻烟盒,盒盖上镶嵌着一颗大紫水晶。它的辉煌与他朴素的生活方式形成鲜明对比,我不禁评论起来。
“啊,”他说,“我忘了你已经有些周没来了。这是波希米亚国王作为我协助处理艾琳·艾德勒文件案件的回报。”
“那戒指呢?”我问道,瞥了一眼他手指上闪耀的一颗非凡的钻石。
“那是来自荷兰王室,尽管我为他们服务的那个问题非常微妙,以至于我不能向你透露,你这么好心地记录了我的一些小问题。”
“你现在有什么案子吗?”我带着兴趣问道。
“大约有十到十二个,但没有哪一个具有任何有趣的特征。它们很重要,你明白,但并不有趣。事实上,我发现通常在不重要的事情上,才有观察和快速分析因果关系的机会,这正是调查的魅力所在。更大的罪行往往更简单,因为罪行越大,动机通常越明显。在这些案件中,除了有一个相当复杂的问题是从马赛转交给我的,没有哪一个具有任何有趣的特征。然而,可能几分钟之内我就会有更好的案子,因为这个人是我的客户,或者我大错特错了。”
他从椅子上站起来,站在分开的窗帘之间,低头凝视着伦敦街道那单调的中性色调。他回头一看,只见对面人行道上站着一个身材高大的女人,脖子上围着一条厚重的毛皮围巾,头上戴着一顶宽边帽,帽子上插着一根卷曲的红色羽毛,帽子以一种俏皮的德文郡公爵夫人的方式斜戴在耳边。她从这副庞大的盔甲下紧张而犹豫地窥视着我们的窗户,同时她的身体前后摇摆,手指不安地摆弄着她的手套纽扣。突然,她像游泳者离开河岸一样猛地一跳,匆匆穿过马路,我们听到了铃声清脆的响声。
“我以前见过这种症状,”福尔摩斯说着,把他的香烟扔进火里。“人行道上的摇摆总是意味着一场‘情场风波’。她想要寻求建议,但又不确定这件事是否过于微妙,不适合交流。然而,即使在这里,我们也能分辨出来。当一个女性被男性严重伤害后,她就不会再摇摆了,通常的症状是断裂的铃线。这里我们可以确定这是一场爱情纠纷,但这位少女与其说是愤怒,不如说是困惑或悲伤。但她亲自前来,就是为了消除我们的疑虑。”
他说话时,门上响起了一阵敲门声,那个戴纽扣的男孩走了进来,宣布玛丽·萨瑟兰小姐来了,而她本人则像一艘全帆商船跟在一只小引航船后面,出现在他瘦小的黑色身影之后。福尔摩斯以他特有的轻松礼貌欢迎了她,关上门,鞠了一躬,让她坐在扶手椅上,然后以他特有的细致而抽象的方式打量着她。
“你不觉得,”他说,“你的视力不好,打这么多字有点儿累吗?”
“起初是,”她回答,“但现在我已经知道字母在哪里,不用看了。”然后,她突然意识到他话中的全部含义,猛地一惊,抬起头,脸上带着恐惧和惊讶。“福尔摩斯先生,你是听说过我的吧,”她喊道,“否则你怎么会知道这些?”
“没关系,”福尔摩斯笑着说道,“我的职责就是了解事情。也许我已经训练自己看到别人忽视的东西。如果不是这样,你为什么来找我咨询呢?”
“我之所以这么匆忙来找您,先生,”福尔摩斯用手指尖相触,目光望向天花板问道,“是因为我从艾塞奇夫人那里听说了您,您在警察和所有人都认为他已死的情况下找到了他丈夫。哦,福尔摩斯先生,我希望您能为我做同样的事情。我不富裕,但我自己有权每年有一百英镑,再加上我通过打字机赚的那一点小钱,我会把所有的钱都用来知道霍斯默·安杰尔先生发生了什么事。”
“Why did you come away to consult me in such a hurry? ” asked Sherlock Holmes, with his finger-tips together and his eyes to the ceiling.
玛丽·萨瑟兰小姐那张略显空洞的面孔上又露出惊愕的神色。“是的,我确实是从家里冲出去的,”她说,“看到温迪班克先生——也就是我的父亲——那么轻易地接受了这一切,让我非常生气。他不去报警,也不去找你,最后,因为他什么也不做,一直说没有造成任何伤害,这让我非常恼火,所以我收拾好东西,立刻就到你这里来了。”
“你的父亲,”福尔摩斯说,“应该是你的继父吧,既然名字不同。”
“是的,我的继父。虽然听起来有点滑稽,我还是叫他父亲,因为他只比我大五岁两个月。”
“你母亲还活着?”
“哦,是的,母亲还活着,身体也很健康。福尔摩斯先生,我对她在父亲去世后不久就再婚,嫁给了一个比她小近十五岁的男人,并不怎么满意。父亲在托特纳姆法院路做水管工,留下了一笔不错的生意,母亲和工头哈迪先生一起经营;但是温迪班克先生来了之后,他让她把生意卖掉,因为他非常优越,是个酒商。他们以4700英镑的价格卖掉了商誉和利息,这远远不如如果父亲还活着能得到的那么多。”
我本以为福尔摩斯会对这番漫无边际、无关紧要的叙述感到不耐烦,但恰恰相反,他全神贯注地听着。
“你自己的小收入,”他问道,“是从生意中来的吗?”
“哦,不是的,先生。它是完全分开的,是我叔叔内德在奥克兰留给我的。它是新西兰股票,年利率4.5%。总额是2500英镑,但我只能动用利息。”
“你让我非常感兴趣,”福尔摩斯说,“既然你每年能拿到100英镑的利息,再加上你打字赚的钱,你无疑会四处旅行,尽情享受。我相信一个单身女士只要有大约60英镑的收入就能过得很好。”
“我需要的比那少得多,福尔摩斯先生,但你知道,只要我住在家里,我就不想成为他们的负担,所以他们在我和他们同住期间使用这笔钱。当然,这只是暂时的。温迪班克先生每季度都会提取我的利息,然后付给母亲,我发现我可以用打字赚到的钱过得不错。每页能赚两便士,我一天通常能打十五到二十页。”
“你已经向我清楚地说明了你的情况,”福尔摩斯说,“这是我的朋友华生医生,你可以像对我一样自由地向他讲述。现在,请告诉我们你与霍斯默·安吉尔先生的全部联系。”
苏珊德小姐的脸颊泛起一抹红晕,她紧张地拨弄着夹克衫的边缘。“我第一次见到他是在煤气安装师的舞会上,”她说,“父亲在世时,他们总会给他送来舞会门票,后来他们也想起了我们,就把票送给了母亲。温迪班克先生不希望我们去。他从不希望我们去任何地方。如果我连加入主日学校的聚会都不行,他会气得发疯。但这次我下定决心要去,我一定要去;他有什么权利阻止我?他说那些人不够好,我们不应该认识,可所有父亲的朋友都会在那里。他还说,我没有什么合适的衣服穿,可我那件紫色的天鹅绒外套我从未从抽屉里拿出来过。最后,当别无他法时,他因为公司的业务去了法国,但我和母亲,还有哈迪先生——他以前是我们的工头——一起去了,就是在那里我遇到了 Hosmer Angel 先生。”
“我想,”福尔摩斯说,“温迪班克先生从法国回来后,一定非常生气你们去参加了舞会。”
“哦,他表现得还不错。我记得他笑了,耸了耸肩,说对女人来说,否认任何事情都没有用,因为她总会坚持己见。”
“我明白了。那么,根据我的理解,你在煤气安装师的舞会上遇到了一位名叫 Hosmer Angel 的绅士。”
“是的,先生。我那天晚上遇到的,第二天他就来询问我们是否安全到家,之后我们又见面了——也就是说,福尔摩斯先生,我和他散步见过两次,但之后父亲又回来了,Hosmer Angel 先生就不能再来我们家了。”
“没有吗?”
“嗯,你知道父亲不喜欢这种事情。如果可能,他不会让任何人来拜访,他经常说,女人应该在自己的家庭圈子里感到快乐。但正如我经常对母亲说的,女人首先需要一个自己的圈子,而我还没有找到。”
“那么关于 Hosmer Angel 先生呢?他有没有尝试来看你?”
“嗯,父亲又过一周就要去法国了,Hosmer 写信来说,在他离开之前不见面会更安全、更好。我们可以在那期间写信,他每天都写信。我早上收信,所以父亲不需要知道。”
“那时你和那位绅士订婚了吗?”
“哦,是的,福尔摩斯先生。我们第一次散步后就订婚了。Hosmer——Angel 先生——在莱登霍尔街的一家办公室当出纳员——”
“是哪家办公室?”
“最糟糕的是,福尔摩斯先生,我不知道。”
“那么他住在哪里?”
“他住在办公室里。”
“那你不知道他的地址?”
“不——除了他在莱登霍尔街。”
“那么你把信寄到哪里?”
致莱德霍尔街邮局,待有人来取。他说如果信件被送到邮局,其他职员会取笑他收到女士的信件,所以我提出帮他打字,就像他打字一样,但他不同意,因为他觉得当我写的时候,信件似乎是从我这里发出的,但当他打字时,他总是觉得机器在我们之间产生了隔阂。这足以说明他对我有多喜欢,福尔摩斯先生,还有那些他会想到的小细节。”
“这非常有启发性,”福尔摩斯说,“我一直认为,小事往往是最重要的。你能记得关于霍斯默·安吉尔先生的其它小事吗?”
“他是一个非常害羞的人,福尔摩斯先生。他宁愿在晚上和我一起散步,而不是在白天,因为他说他讨厌引人注目。他非常内向,非常绅士。甚至他的声音都很温柔。他告诉我,他年轻时得过扁桃体炎和肿大的淋巴结,这让他喉咙虚弱,说话犹豫不决,总是低声细语。他总是穿着得体,非常整洁朴素,但他的眼睛和我一样,视力不好,他戴有色眼镜来抵御强光。”
“那么,当你的继父温迪班克先生回到法国后发生了什么?”
“霍斯默·安吉尔先生又来到我们家,提议在我们父亲回来之前结婚。他非常认真,让我在《圣经》上发誓,无论发生什么,我都会永远忠于他。母亲说让他发誓是正确的,这是他激情的标志。母亲从一开始就站在他那边,甚至比我还喜欢他。然后,当他们谈论在一周内结婚时,我开始询问关于父亲的事;但他们都说不用担心父亲,等以后再告诉他,母亲说她会让父亲接受的。我不太喜欢这样,福尔摩斯先生。我觉得我向他请假很奇怪,因为他只比我大几岁;但我不想偷偷摸摸地做任何事情,所以我给在波尔多的公司法国办事处写了封信,但信在婚礼当天早上就退回来了。”
“那它错过了他?”
“是的,先生;因为他在信到达之前就已经动身去英国了。”
“哈!这真是不幸。那么,你的婚礼是安排在周五吗?”
“是的,先生,但非常安静。地点是在圣塞弗尔教堂,靠近国王十字车站,之后我们将在圣潘克拉斯酒店用早餐。霍斯默来接我们,因为我们是两个人,他就把我们两个都放进马车里,自己则上了一辆四轮马车,恰好这是街上唯一的其他马车。我们首先到达教堂,当四轮马车驶来时,我们等着他下车,但他始终没有下来,当车夫从驾驶座上下来查看时,那里根本没有人!车夫说他无法想象他发生了什么事,因为他亲眼看到他上了车。那是上周五,霍姆斯先生,从那以后我再也没有看到或听到任何能让我了解他发生了什么事的消息。”
“在我看来,你受到了非常不公平的对待,”霍姆斯说。
“哦,不,先生!他太善良、太好了,不会这样对我。你知道吗,整个早上他都在告诉我,无论发生什么,我都要忠诚;即使发生了完全无法预见的意外,我们分开了,我也要始终记住我对他的承诺,他迟早会要求得到他的承诺。这在婚礼这天听起来很奇怪,但后来发生的事情给了它意义。”
“确实如此。那么,你的看法是,某种无法预见的灾难发生在他身上了?”
“是的,先生。我相信他预见到了某种危险,否则他不会这样说的。然后我想,他预见的事情发生了。”
“但是,你对可能发生的事情没有任何想法?”
“没有。”
“还有一个问题。你母亲对此事怎么看?”
“她很生气,说我不准再提起这件事。”
“你父亲呢?你告诉他了吗?”
“是的;他似乎认为,和我一样,发生了什么事,我应该会再听到霍斯默的消息。他说,谁会对把我带到教堂门口,然后离开我感兴趣呢?现在,如果他借了我的钱,或者如果他和我结婚了,我的钱就归他管理,那可能还有点道理,但霍斯默在金钱上非常独立,从不看我的任何一分钱。然而,发生了什么事呢?他为什么不能写信呢?哦,一想到这件事我就快要疯了,我整夜都睡不着。”她从她的手套里拿出一条小手帕,开始沉重地抽泣起来。
“我将为你调查这件事,”霍姆斯站起身来说,“我毫不怀疑我们将会找到一些明确的结果。现在让这件事的重量压在我的肩上,不要再让你的心思停留在它上面。最重要的是,尽力让霍斯默·安吉尔先生从你的记忆中消失,就像他已经从你的生活中消失一样。”
“那么,您不认为我会再见到他?”
“我担心不会。”
“那么,他发生了什么事?”
“这个问题就交给我吧。我想知道他准确的描述,以及你能提供的任何他的信件。”
“上星期六我在《纪事报》上登了他的广告,”她说。“这是广告纸条,这是他寄来的四封信。”
“谢谢。你的地址是?”
“31号莱昂广场,坎伯韦尔。”
“我明白您从未知道安吉尔先生的地址。您父亲的工作地点在哪里?”
“他在芬奇街的西豪斯和马尔班克公司出差,他们是著名的克拉雷特酒进口商。”
“谢谢。您把情况说得很清楚。您会把文件留在这里,记住我给您的建议。让整个事件像一本封印的书一样,不要让它影响您的生活。”
“您真是太好了,福尔摩斯先生,但我不能这样做。我会对霍斯默忠诚。当他回来时,我会随时准备。”
尽管她戴着那顶荒谬的帽子,面容空洞,但我们的访客那单纯的信仰中却有一种高贵,这让我们不得不表示尊敬。她把那小捆文件放在桌子上,然后离去,答应随时被召唤就会回来。
福尔摩斯先生沉默了几分钟,手指依然相扣,双腿伸在他面前,目光向上凝视天花板。然后他从架子上拿下了那根老旧而油腻的陶土烟斗,对他来说,这根烟斗就像一位顾问,点燃后,他靠回椅子上,浓重的蓝色烟雾从他身上升起,脸上露出无尽的懒散。
“那个少女真是个有趣的研究对象,”他评论道。“我觉得她比她的小问题更有趣,顺便说一句,这个问题相当陈腐。如果你查阅我的索引,你会发现类似的情况,在1877年的安德福德,还有去年海牙发生的一件事。然而,尽管这个想法很古老,还是有几个细节对我来说是新的。但那个少女本身却非常具有教育意义。”
“您似乎在她身上看到了很多我完全没注意到的东西,”我评论道。
“不是看不见,而是没注意到,华生。你不知道该往哪里看,所以错过了所有重要的东西。我永远无法让你意识到袖口的重要性,拇指指甲的暗示性,或者一根靴带子上可能悬挂的重大问题。现在,你从那个女人的外表中得到了什么?描述一下。”
“嗯,她戴着一顶石板色的宽边草帽,上面插着一根砖红色羽毛。她的夹克是黑色的,上面缝着黑色珠子,还有一圈小黑玛瑙装饰。她的裙子是棕色的,比咖啡色深一些,领口和袖口有一小块紫色天鹅绒。她的手套是灰色的,右手中指破了。我没有注意到她的靴子。她戴着一对小圆耳环,整体给人一种粗俗、舒适、随和的富裕感。”
福尔摩斯先生轻轻地拍了拍手,发出一声轻笑。
“我敢发誓,华生,你进步得非常出色。你真的做得非常好。诚然,你错过了所有重要的事情,但你已经找到了方法,你的观察能力也很敏锐。我的孩子,永远不要依赖一般的印象,而要专注于细节。我的第一眼总是看女人的袖子。在男人身上,也许最好先看裤子的膝盖部分。正如你所观察到的,这位女士的袖子上是天鹅绒,这是一种非常有用的材料,可以显示出痕迹。手腕上方一点的双线,那是打字员压在桌子上的地方,非常清晰地显现出来。手打字机也会留下类似的痕迹,但只出现在左臂上,而且是远离拇指的那一侧,而不是像这个这样横跨最宽的部分。然后我看了她的脸,注意到她鼻子的两侧都有夹鼻眼镜的痕迹,我就大胆地评论了近视和打字的关系,这似乎让她感到惊讶。”
“这让我感到惊讶。”
“但,这显然是显而易见的。然后,当我低头观察时,我感到非常惊讶和感兴趣,我发现她穿的靴子虽然看起来很相似,但实际上却很奇特;一个靴尖稍微装饰了一下,另一个则很普通。一个只扣了五个扣子中的两个,另一个则扣了第一个、第三个和第五个。现在,当你看到一位穿着整洁的年轻女士出门时穿着奇特的靴子,而且只扣了一半,那么她匆忙出门的推断也就不足为奇了。”
“还有什么呢?”我好奇地问,就像我总是对我的朋友敏锐的推理感到好奇。
“我顺便注意到,她在出门前写了一张便条,但已经穿好了衣服。你注意到她的右手套在食指处破了,但你似乎没有注意到手套和手指都被紫墨水染脏了。她匆忙写字,笔蘸得太深了。这一定是今天早上写的,否则手指上的痕迹就不会这么清晰了。所有这些都很有趣,虽然有些基础,但我必须回到正事上来,华生。你介意给我读一下关于霍斯默·安杰尔的广告描述吗?”
我把那张小印刷品拿到灯光下。“失踪,”上面写着,“14号早上,一位名叫霍斯默·安杰尔的绅士。身高约五英尺七英寸;体格强健,肤色黄褐色,黑发,中间有点秃顶,浓密的黑色侧须和胡须;戴有色眼镜,言语略有不便。最后一次被看到时穿着黑色丝绸面料的礼服外套,黑色背心,金色阿尔伯特链,灰色哈里斯粗花呢裤,以及棕色长筒靴,靴子套在弹性靴筒上。曾任职于莱登霍尔街的一家办公室。任何带来……”等等,等等。
“这就行了,”福尔摩斯说。“至于这些信件,”他继续说道,一边翻看着它们,“它们非常普通。信中完全没有关于安吉尔先生的线索,除了他引用了巴尔扎克的话。然而,有一点非常引人注目,你一定会注意到。”
“它们是打印的,”我评论道。
“不仅如此,签名也是打印的。看看底部的那个整洁的小‘霍斯默·安吉尔’。你看,上面有日期,但是除了莱登霍尔街这个地址之外,没有其他抬头,这相当模糊。关于签名的问题非常具有启发性——事实上,我们可以称之为决定性的。”
“关于什么的?”
“我亲爱的朋友,你难道看不出来这有多么强烈地影响着这个案子吗?”
“除非他认为如果有人提起违反承诺的诉讼,他希望能够否认自己的签名。”
“不,那不是重点。不过,我将写两封信,应该就能解决这个问题。一封是给市内一家公司的,另一封是给那位年轻女士的继父,温迪班克先生,问他明天晚上六点能否在这里与我们见面。和男性亲属做生意是明智的。现在,医生,我们只能等待这些信件的回复,所以我们可以暂时把这个小问题放在一边。”
我对我的朋友在推理上的微妙能力和在行动上的非凡精力有着充分的信心,因此我相信他一定有充分的理由来解释他处理这个奇特谜案的自信和从容态度。我只知道他失败过一次,那就是波希米亚国王和艾琳·艾德勒的照片案;但是当我回想起四签名案和血字的研究中的非凡情况时,我觉得任何他都无法解开的谜团都是极其罕见的。
我离开他时,他还在抽着黑陶烟斗,我坚信当我第二天晚上再来时,我会发现他手中握有所有能够引导我们找到玛丽·苏珊德小姐失踪新郎身份的线索。
当时我正忙于一个重大的专业案件,第二天我整天都在病人的床边忙碌。直到快六点钟,我才找到空闲,跳上一辆出租马车,赶到贝克街,半担心我可能来得太晚,无法协助解开这个小谜团的结局。然而,我发现福尔摩斯独自一人,半睡半醒,他那瘦长的身躯蜷缩在扶手椅的角落里。一排排瓶子试管,以及氯化氢酸刺鼻的清洁气味告诉我,他整天都在从事他钟爱的化学实验。
“好了,你解决了吗?”我进门时问道。
“是的。是重晶石亚硫酸盐。”
“不,不,是那个谜团!”我喊道。
哦,那件事!我想到了我一直在研究的盐。不过,正如我昨天说的,尽管这件事没有神秘之处,但其中的一些细节还是很有趣的。唯一的缺点是,恐怕没有法律能够触及那个恶棍。”
“那么,他究竟是谁?他为什么要抛弃苏珊小姐?”
这个问题刚从我嘴里说出来,福尔摩斯还没有开口回答,我们就听到了走廊里沉重的脚步声和门上的敲门声。
“这是那位女孩的继父,詹姆斯·温迪班克先生,”福尔摩斯说。“他写信给我,说他会在六点钟到这里。请进!”
进来的那个人是一个健壮的中等身材的男子,大约三十岁,刮了胡子,皮肤黄黄的,态度和蔼,眼神狡黠,一对灰色的眼睛非常锐利和洞察力强。他向我们每个人投来询问的目光,把闪亮的礼帽放在侧柜上,微微鞠了一躬,然后侧身坐到了最近的椅子上。
“晚上好,詹姆斯·温迪班克先生,”福尔摩斯说。“我想这封打印信是你写的,你在信中约定六点钟见我?”
“是的,先生。恐怕我有点晚了,但你知道,我并不是完全自己做主。我为苏珊小姐为此小事麻烦您而感到抱歉,我认为最好不要在公众面前洗这种衣服。她来这完全违背了我的意愿,但她是一个非常容易激动的、冲动的女孩,您可能已经注意到了,当她对某件事情下定决心时,很难控制她。当然,我对您并不那么介意,因为您与官方警察没有关系,但让这样的家庭不幸公之于众并不愉快。此外,这纯粹是浪费钱,您怎么可能找到这个霍斯默·安吉尔呢?”
“恰恰相反,”福尔摩斯平静地说,“我有充分的理由相信我会成功找到霍斯默·安吉尔先生。”
温迪班克先生猛地一跳,手套掉在了地上。“听到这个我很高兴,”他说。
“真是一件奇怪的事情,”福尔摩斯评论道,“一台打字机真的有和一个人的笔迹一样多的个性。除非它们非常新,否则没有两台是完全一样的。有些字母磨损得比其他字母更严重,有些字母只在一边磨损。现在,温迪班克先生,你在你的这封信中提到,每个字母的‘e’都有点模糊,‘r’的尾巴也有点缺陷。还有十四个其他的特点,但那些是最明显的。”
“我们在办公室都用这台机器处理我们的通信,毫无疑问它有点磨损,”我们的访客回答说,他那明亮的眼睛锐利地盯着福尔摩斯。
“现在我要向您展示一项真正有趣的研究,温迪班克先生,”福尔摩斯继续说道。“我想在不久的将来用打字机写一篇关于打字机与犯罪之间关系的短篇专著。这是一个我投入了一些关注的研究课题。我这里有一封声称来自失踪者的信,所有的信都是打印的。在每一封信中,不仅‘e’字母被模糊处理,‘r’字母的尾巴也被省略了,如果您愿意使用我的放大镜,您会发现我提到的其他十四个特征也都在其中。”
温迪班克先生从椅子上跳起来,拿起他的帽子。“我无法浪费时间在这种荒谬的谈话上,福尔摩斯先生,”他说。“如果你能抓住那个人,就抓住他,告诉我你完成了。”
“当然,”福尔摩斯说着,跨步走到门口,转动钥匙。“那么,我就告诉你,我已经抓住了他!”
“什么!在哪里?”温迪班克先生尖叫起来,脸色苍白,像一只被困在陷阱里的老鼠一样四处张望。
“哦,这行不通——真的行不通,”福尔摩斯温和地说。“您无处可逃,温迪班克先生。这太明显了,而且您说这个问题简单得我无法解决,这实在是一种不恰当的恭维。没错!坐下,我们来谈谈这件事。”
我们的访客脸色苍白地跌进椅子里,额头上冒出了冷汗。“这——这不可告人,”他结结巴巴地说。
“我非常担心这确实不可告人。但私下里,温迪班克,这在小打小闹的恶作剧中,是我见过的最残忍、最自私、最无情的一个。现在,让我简要地回顾一下事件经过,如果您觉得我有什么说错的地方,请指正。”
那个人坐在椅子里,头垂在胸前,像是一个完全被打垮的人。福尔摩斯把脚放在壁炉架的角落里,双手插在口袋里,开始自言自语般地谈话,似乎并不是对我们说的。
“这个人娶了一个比他大得多的女人,就是为了她的钱,”他说,“只要女儿和他们住在一起,他就享受着女儿的钱。这是一笔相当大的数目,对于他们这样地位的人来说,失去它将会造成严重的差异。保留它是值得努力的。女儿性格善良、和蔼可亲,但她的方式又充满温情和热心,所以很明显,凭借她良好的个人条件和微薄的收入,她不会长时间保持单身。现在她的婚姻当然意味着每年会损失一百英镑,那么她的继父为了防止这种情况,会怎么做呢?他采取了显而易见的做法,就是让她待在家里,禁止她与同龄人交往。但很快他就发现这样做是行不通的。她变得焦躁不安,坚持自己的权利,最后宣布她坚决要去参加某个舞会。那么她聪明的继父会怎么做呢?他想出了一个比他的心更值得称赞的主意。在他的妻子的默许和帮助下,他化装成别人,用有色眼镜遮住了那双锐利的眼睛,用胡须和浓密的胡须遮住了脸,把那清晰的声音变成了诱人的低语,再加上女孩近视的便利,他化身为霍斯默·安吉尔先生,通过自己追求爱情来阻止其他追求者。”
“起初这只是个玩笑,”我们的访客叹了口气,“我们从未想过她会如此着迷。”
“很可能不是。不管怎样,那位年轻小姐确实是心猿意马,她坚信她的继父在法国,对背叛的怀疑从未在她的脑海中闪过。她被那位绅士的关心所取悦,而她母亲的公开赞美更是增强了这种效果。接着,安吉尔先生开始频繁拜访,显然,如果想要产生真正的效果,事情就应该尽可能地推进。他们见过面,订了婚,最终确保了这位姑娘的心不会转向其他任何人。但这场骗局不可能永远持续下去。这些假装去法国的旅行相当麻烦。显然,应该以戏剧性的方式结束这件事,给这位年轻小姐留下永久的印象,让她在一段时间内不会考虑其他求婚者。因此,就有了在《圣经》上发誓的忠诚誓言,以及提到婚礼当天早上可能发生某事的暗示。詹姆斯·温迪班克希望苏珊·萨瑟兰小姐对霍斯默·安吉尔如此忠诚,对他的命运如此不确定,至少在接下来的十年里,她不会听信其他男人的话。他把她带到了教堂门口,然后,由于他已经无路可走,他巧妙地利用四轮马车的一个门进另一个门出的老伎俩消失了。我想这就是事件的链条,温迪班克先生!”
当福尔摩斯在说话时,我们的访客恢复了一些自信,现在他带着冷笑从椅子上站起来,脸色苍白。
“可能如此,也可能不如此,福尔摩斯先生,”他说,“但如果你如此敏锐,你应该足够敏锐地知道,现在违法的是你,而不是我。从一开始,我并没有做任何可以起诉的事情,但只要你们继续锁着那扇门,你们就让自己暴露在非法拘禁的诉讼风险之下。”
“正如你所说,法律无法触及你,”福尔摩斯说着,打开了门,把它敞开,“但从未有一个人像你这样值得惩罚。如果这位年轻小姐有一个兄弟或朋友,他应该用鞭子抽你的肩膀。天哪!”他继续说,看到那个人脸上的苦笑,他的脸涨得通红,“这不是我对客户的职责的一部分,但这里有一根猎鞭,我想我应该给自己来一下——”他迅速迈出两步向鞭子走去,但就在他伸手去抓鞭子的时候,楼梯上响起了一阵疯狂的脚步声,沉重的大厅门砰地关上,我们从窗户可以看到詹姆斯·温迪班克先生以最快的速度沿着道路跑下去。
“这是个冷血无赖!”福尔摩斯笑着说,一边又坐回椅子上。“这家伙会从犯罪升级到更严重的罪行,最终在绞刑架上结束。这个案子在某些方面,还不完全缺乏趣味。”
“我现在还不能完全看透你的推理步骤,”我评论道。
“嗯,当然一开始就很明显,这位霍斯默·安吉尔先生的行为背后肯定有一些强烈的动机,而且很明显,就我们所见,真正从这个事件中获利的人只有继父。然后,这两个人从不在一起,但总是一个人在另一个人不在时出现,这很可疑。有色眼镜和奇特的声音,还有浓密的胡须,都暗示着伪装,就像这些特征一样。他的这个特殊行为——用打字机打他的签名,当然,这表明他的笔迹对她来说非常熟悉,以至于她能认出哪怕是最小的样本。你看,所有这些孤立的事实,加上许多次要的事实,都指向同一个方向。”
“你是怎么验证它们的?”
“一旦发现了我的目标,证实它们就很容易了。我知道这家伙工作的公司。我拿走了那份打印描述,从中排除了所有可能是伪装结果的东西——胡须、眼镜、声音,然后我把它寄给了公司,请求他们告诉我,这描述是否与他们的任何旅行者的描述相符。我已经注意到了打字机的特殊性,我写信给这个人,用他的商业地址,问他是否会来这里。正如我所料,他的回复是打印的,揭示了同样的微不足道但具有特征性的缺陷。同样的邮递方式带来了一封来自芬奇街的韦斯豪斯和马尔班克的信,说描述与他们的雇员詹姆斯·温迪班克的描述完全一致——这就是全部!”
“那么,苏珊小姐呢?”
“如果我告诉她,她不会相信我。你可能还记得那句古老的波斯谚语:‘抓老虎崽的人有危险,从女人手中夺走幻想的人也有危险。’哈菲兹的话和贺拉斯的话一样有道理,对世界的了解也差不多。”
IV. 博斯康比山谷之谜
一天早上,我和妻子在吃早餐时,女仆带来了一个电报。它是从 Sherlock Holmes 发来的,内容如下:
“你有两天空闲时间吗?刚刚接到来自英格兰西部的电报,与博斯康比山谷悲剧有关。如果你愿意和我一起去,我将非常高兴。空气和风景都很完美。请在帕丁顿乘坐11:15的火车。”
“亲爱的,你怎么说?”妻子看着我,问道,“你会去吗?”
“我真的不知道该说什么。我现在有一长串的事情要做。”
哦,安斯特瑟会帮你处理这些工作的。你最近看起来有点苍白。我想这个改变对你有好处,而你总是对歇洛克·福尔摩斯的案件如此感兴趣。”
“如果我从其中获益良多,我若不感激就太不识好歹了,”我回答道。“但如果我必须去,我必须立刻打包,因为我只有半小时的时间。”
我在阿富汗的营地生活经历至少让我成了一个敏捷而准备充分的旅行者。我的需求很少也很简单,所以不到规定的时间,我就已经坐在一辆出租车上,带着我的手提箱,摇摇晃晃地前往帕丁顿车站。歇洛克·福尔摩斯正在月台上来回踱步,他那高瘦的身影,被长长的灰色旅行大衣和紧贴的布帽衬托得更加瘦削和高大。
“你这么快就来了,华生,真是太好了,”他说。“有个人可以完全信赖,对我帮助很大。当地的帮助总是要么毫无价值,要么有偏见。如果你能保留两个角落的座位,我会去拿票。”
我们独占了车厢,除了福尔摩斯带来的大量文件。在这些文件中,他翻阅、阅读,不时做笔记和沉思,直到我们过了雷丁。然后他突然把这些文件卷成一个巨大的球,扔到行李架上。
“你听到这个案子了吗?”他问道。
“一点都没听到。我好几天没看过报纸了。”
“伦敦的报纸并没有详细报道。我刚刚翻阅了所有最近的报纸,以便掌握细节。据我所知,这似乎是一起极其困难的简单案件。”
“这听起来有点自相矛盾。”
“但这是非常真实的。独特性几乎总是线索。一个犯罪案件越不显眼、越普通,就越难将其绳之以法。然而,在这个案件中,他们已经对被谋杀者的儿子提出了一个非常严重的指控。”
“这是一起谋杀案,对吧?”
“嗯,据推测是这样的。在我有机会亲自调查之前,我不会对任何事情妄下结论。我会用最简短的话向你解释我所理解的情况。”
波斯科姆谷是一个位于罗斯附近,赫里福德郡的乡村地区。那片土地上最大的地主是一位约翰·特纳先生,他在澳大利亚发了财,几年前回到了故乡。他拥有的农场之一,哈瑟利农场,租给了查尔斯·麦卡锡先生,他也是一位前澳大利亚人。这两人在殖民地时就已相识,因此当他们决定定居时,自然而然地选择了彼此附近的地方。特纳显然更为富有,所以麦卡锡成了他的佃户,但他们似乎保持着完全平等的关系,因为他们经常在一起。麦卡锡有一个十八岁的儿子,特纳有一个同岁的独生女,但他们都没有活着的妻子。他们似乎避免与邻近的英国家庭交往,过着隐居的生活,尽管麦克阿瑟一家都喜欢运动,经常被看到在邻区的赛马会上。
麦卡锡有两个仆人——一个男仆和一个女仆。特纳有一个相当大的家庭,至少有五六个人。这就是我能收集到的关于这两个家庭的信息。现在来说说事实。
6月3日,也就是上周一,下午三点左右,麦卡锡离开了哈瑟利农场,步行前往波斯科姆池,这是一个由波斯科姆山谷中流淌的小溪汇流而成的小湖。那天早上,他和他的仆人在罗斯外出了,他告诉仆人要快点,因为他有一个重要的约会,三点钟必须赶到。从那次约会回来后,他再也没有活着回来。
“在威廉·克劳德,那位看林人,失去他们的视线之后,有人看到了这两个麦卡锡。博斯康比谷地周围树木茂密,边缘只有一圈草地和芦苇。一个十四岁的女孩,帕特尼丝·莫兰,她是博斯康比谷地庄园看门人的女儿,她在树林里采花。她声称,当她在那里时,她在树林边缘和湖边看到了麦克卡锡先生和他的儿子,他们看起来像是在激烈争吵。她听到年长的麦克卡锡先生用非常严厉的语言对他儿子说话,她看到他儿子举起手好像要打他的父亲。他们的暴力让她非常害怕,她跑回家告诉她的母亲,说她看到两个麦克卡锡在博斯康比谷地附近争吵,她担心他们要打架。她话还没说完,年轻的麦克卡锡先生就跑来小屋说他在树林里发现了他的父亲,并请求看门人的帮助。他非常激动,既没有枪也没有帽子,他的右手和袖子被发现沾满了新鲜的血迹。跟随他之后,我们在池塘边草地上发现了他的尸体。头部被某种沉重而钝的武器连续打击而变形。这些伤害完全可能是他儿子的枪托造成的,那把枪就躺在尸体几步远的地方的草地上。在这种情况下,年轻人立刻被捕,星期二在尸检中得出‘蓄意谋杀’的结论,星期三他被带到罗斯的治安法官面前,他们将案件提交给了下一届巡回法庭。这些就是案件的主要事实,正如它们在验尸官和警察法庭面前呈现的那样。”
“我很难想象一个更有力的指控案例,”我说。“如果有什么间接证据指向罪犯,那在这里就是。”
“间接证据是非常棘手的东西,”福尔摩斯深思着回答。“它可能看起来非常直接地指向某件事,但如果你稍微改变一下自己的视角,你可能会发现它同样坚定地指向完全不同的事情。然而,必须承认,这个案件对年轻人来说看起来非常严重,他确实可能是罪犯。然而,附近有几个其他人,其中包括邻地主的女儿,特纳小姐,他们相信他的无辜,并雇佣了莱斯特雷德,你可能还记得他与《血字的研究》有关,来为他调查这个案件。莱斯特雷德对此感到困惑,所以他把案件提交给了我,这就是为什么两个中年绅士以每小时五十英里的速度飞向西边,而不是在家里安静地享用早餐。”
“我恐怕,”我说,“这些事实如此明显,您在这起案件中很难找到什么值得信服的地方。”
“没有什么比一个明显的事实更具有欺骗性了,”他笑着回答。“此外,我们也许会偶然发现一些对勒斯特雷德先生来说并不明显的事实。您太了解我了,不会认为我在自吹自擂,当我说我将通过他无法采用甚至理解的手段来证实或推翻他的理论。以第一个例子来说,我非常清楚地看到,在你的卧室里,窗户在右手边,然而我怀疑勒斯特雷德先生是否注意到了这样一个显而易见的事情。”
“这究竟——”
“亲爱的朋友,我非常了解你。我知道那种标志你的军事般的整洁。你每天早上都刮胡子,在这个季节里,你是靠阳光刮胡子;但是随着我们往左边的方向走,你的刮胡子越来越不完整,直到我们在下巴的转角处刮得乱七八糟,这显然说明那一侧的照明比另一侧差。我无法想象一个习惯如此的人会在光线相等的情况下照镜子,并对这样的结果感到满意。我只是举这个作为观察和推理的琐事例子。这就是我的专长,也许它对我们面前的调查会有所帮助。在审讯中提出了一两个值得考虑的细节。”
“是什么?”
“据称,他的逮捕并不是立即发生的,而是在回到哈瑟利农场之后。当宪兵督察告诉他他是一名囚犯时,他评论说他并不惊讶听到这个消息,这不过是他的应得。他的这个评论自然地消除了陪审团可能留下的任何怀疑。”
“那是一个供认,”我脱口而出。
“不,因为紧接着他声明了自己的无辜。”
“在这样一系列令人谴责的事件之后,这至少是一个非常可疑的评论。”
“相反,”福尔摩斯说,“这正是我现在能看到的云层中最明亮的一道裂缝。不管他可能多么无辜,他不可能是个如此彻底的白痴,以至于看不到这些情况对他非常不利。如果他对自己的被捕感到惊讶,或者假装对此感到愤怒,我会认为这非常可疑,因为在这种情形下,这样的惊讶或愤怒并不自然,而对于一个阴谋家来说,这可能是最好的策略。他坦率地接受现状,这表明他要么是个无辜的人,要么是个非常有自制力和坚定的人。至于他对自己的罪行的评论,如果你考虑到他站在父亲的尸体旁边,而且毫无疑问,就在那天,他如此忘记了孝道,以至于和他争吵,甚至根据那个重要的小女孩的证词,举起手好像要打他,那么这种自责和悔恨在我看来是健康心灵的标志,而不是有罪心灵的标志。”
我摇了摇头。“很多人因为微不足道的证据就被绞死了,”我说。
“是的。也有很多无辜的人被错误地绞死了。”
“年轻人自己对这个事件的描述是什么?”
“恐怕,这对他的支持者来说并不鼓舞人心,尽管其中有一两点是有启发性的。你在这里可以找到它,可以自己阅读。”
他从包裹中拿出了一份当地的赫里福德郡报纸,翻到那一页,指出了不幸的年轻人对自己所发生事件的陈述段落。我坐在车厢角落里,非常仔细地阅读了它。内容如下:
詹姆斯·麦卡锡先生,已故父亲的独子,随后被传唤并提供了以下证词:“我在布里斯托尔离家已有三天,上周一早上,也就是3号那天,刚刚回到家。我父亲在我到达时不在家,女仆告诉我他开车和约翰·科布,也就是马夫,去了罗斯。我回到家不久,就听到了他在院子里马车的车轮声,我从窗户往外看,见他下了车,匆匆离开了院子,但我不知道他去了哪个方向。于是,我拿起枪,朝着博斯康比池的方向漫步,打算去参观另一边的兔子窝。在路上,我看到了威廉·克劳德,也就是游戏管理员,正如他所说的那样;但他误以为我在跟踪我的父亲。我并不知道他就在我前面。当我距离池子大约一百码的时候,我听到了一声‘咕咕’,这是我们父子间常用的信号。我急忙往前走,发现他站在池边。他看起来对我出现感到非常惊讶,粗鲁地问我来这里做什么。随后发生了一场对话,我们争吵起来,几乎要动手打架,因为我的父亲脾气非常暴躁。看到他的怒火无法控制,我离开了,往哈瑟利农场走去。然而,我还没走超过150码,就听到背后传来一声可怕的呼喊,这让我不得不跑回去。我发现我的父亲倒在地上,头部严重受伤。我放下枪,把他抱在怀里,但他几乎立刻就去世了。我在他身边跪了几分钟,然后朝着最近的特纳先生的看门人走去,请求帮助。我回去的时候,没有看到任何人靠近我的父亲,我也不知道他是如何受伤的。他不是一个受欢迎的人,他的举止有些冷漠和严厉,但据我所知,他没有积极的敌人。我对这件事一无所知。”
“验尸官:你父亲在去世前对你说了什么吗?
“证人:他嘟囔了几句话,但我只能听到一些关于老鼠的暗示。
“验尸官:你对此有何理解?
“证人:这对我来说没有任何意义。我认为他是在胡言乱语。
“验尸官:你们最后争吵的焦点是什么?
“证人:我宁愿不回答。
“验尸官:恐怕我必须坚持。
“证人:我真的无法告诉你。我可以向你保证,这与随后发生的悲剧无关。
“验尸官:这是法庭要决定的。我无需指出,你拒绝回答将会在未来的任何诉讼中对你造成很大的不利。
“证人:我仍然拒绝。
“验尸官:我明白‘咕咕’的叫声是你和你父亲之间常用的信号?”
“目击者:确实如此。
“法医:那么,他是在看到你之前,甚至在知道你从布里斯托尔回来之前就说出那句话的吗?
“目击者(显得有些困惑):我不知道。
“陪审员:当你听到呼救声回来,发现你父亲严重受伤时,你没有看到任何引起你怀疑的东西吗?
“目击者:没有确切的东西。
“法医:你的意思是什么?
“目击者:当我冲到外面时,我太激动了,除了我父亲之外什么也想不起来。但我有一种模糊的印象,当我跑过去时,在我左边地上有什么东西。它看起来像是某种灰色,可能是件外套,或者是格子布。当我从父亲身边站起来时,我四处寻找它,但它已经不见了。
“‘你是说在你去找帮助之前它就消失了?’
“‘是的,它已经不见了。’
“‘你无法说出它是什么吗?’
“‘不,我有一种感觉那里有什么东西。’
“‘离尸体有多远?’
“‘大约十二码左右。’
“‘离树林边缘有多远?’
“‘大约一样远。’
“‘那么如果它被移走了,那是在你离它十二码之内的时候吗?’
“‘是的,但我是背对着它的。’”
“这完成了对目击者的审问。”
“我明白了,”我说着向下看了一眼,“法医在他的总结发言中对年轻的麦卡锡相当严厉。他注意到了,并且有理由指出,他在看到他之前向他的父亲发信号的不一致,也注意到了他拒绝提供他与父亲谈话的细节,以及他父亲临终遗言的特殊描述。正如他所说,这些都非常不利于儿子。”
福尔摩斯轻声笑了笑,伸展在软垫座椅上。“你们俩和法医都费尽心思,”他说,“挑选出这个年轻人最有利的点。难道你们没有注意到你们交替地给他太多的想象力或太少的想象力?如果他不能编造出一个能够引起陪审团同情的争吵原因,那么就是太少了;如果他从自己的内心意识中产生了如此_离谱_的临终提及老鼠,以及消失的布料事件,那么就是太多了。不,先生,我将从这个年轻人说的是真的的角度来处理这个案件,我们将看看这个假设会引导我们到何处。现在这里是我的口袋里的彼得拉克,直到我们到达行动现场,我不会再说一个字关于这个案件。我们在斯温登用午餐,我看我们二十分钟后就能到那里。”
将近四点钟时,我们终于穿越了美丽的斯特劳德山谷,跨过了宽阔闪亮的塞文河,来到了美丽的小乡村小镇罗斯。一个瘦削、像狐狸一样机警、眼神狡黠的男人正在月台上等候我们。尽管他身穿一件棕褐色的外套和皮革紧身裤,以示对乡村环境的尊重,我还是很容易地认出了苏格兰场的雷斯垂德。我们和他一起驱车前往这里福德旅馆,我们已经预订了房间。
“我已经叫了一辆马车,”雷斯垂德在我们喝着茶时说,“我知道你精力充沛,直到你亲自到了犯罪现场,你才会感到满意。”
“你真是太体贴了,”福尔摩斯回答,“这完全是个气压的问题。”
雷斯垂德显得有些惊讶。“我不太明白你的意思,”他说。
“气压表是多少?二十九。没有风,天空一片晴朗。我这里有一盒香烟需要抽,沙发也比一般乡村旅馆的恶臭沙发好得多。我想今晚我可能不会用到马车。”
雷斯垂德宽容地笑了笑。“毫无疑问,你已经从报纸上得出了结论,”他说,“这个案子就像一根长矛一样明显,越深入调查,就越明显。不过,当然,我们不能拒绝一位女士,尤其是这样坚决的一位。她听说过你,想要听听你的意见,尽管我反复告诉她,你已经做了我能做的一切。哎呀!她的马车就在门口。”
他话音刚落,一位我生平所见最可爱的年轻女士就冲进了房间。她的紫罗兰眼睛闪闪发光,嘴唇微启,脸颊泛起一片红晕,她那自然的矜持在强烈的兴奋和担忧中完全消失了。
“哦,福尔摩斯先生!”她叫道,从我们每一个人身上扫视过去,最后,凭借女性的敏锐直觉,她锁定了我的同伴,“我很高兴你来了。我是开车下来告诉你的。我知道詹姆斯没有做那件事。我知道,我希望你也知道这一点,开始你的工作。永远不要在这方面怀疑。我们从小时候就认识了,没有人比我更了解他的缺点;但他心地太善良,不会伤害一只苍蝇。这样的指控对真正了解他的人来说是荒谬的。”
“我希望我们能证明他的清白,”福尔摩斯说,“你可以相信我会尽我所能。”
“但你已经看过证据了。你形成了某种结论?你没有发现一些漏洞,一些瑕疵?你自己不认为他是无辜的吗?”
“我认为这是很可能的。”
“那就对了!”她叫道,扬起头,挑衅地看着雷斯垂德,“你听到了!他给了我希望。”
莱斯特雷德耸了耸肩。“恐怕我的同事在得出结论时有些急躁,”他说。
“但他是对的。哦!我知道他是正确的。詹姆斯绝不会这么做。至于他和父亲的争吵,我敢肯定他不肯向验尸官提起这件事的原因是因为我参与了其中。”
“以什么方式?”福尔摩斯问道。
“现在不是隐瞒任何事情的时候了。詹姆斯和他的父亲关于我有很多分歧。麦克卡锡先生非常希望我们能够结婚。詹姆斯和我一直像兄妹一样相爱;但当然,他年轻,对生活的了解还很少,而且——嗯,他自然不愿意那么做。所以发生了争吵,我相信这肯定就是其中之一。”
“你的父亲呢?”福尔摩斯问道,“他是否赞成这样的联姻?”
“不,他也反对。除了麦克卡锡先生,没有人赞成。”
福尔摩斯锐利的目光投向她那清新年轻的面庞,她迅速地泛起一丝红晕。
“谢谢你提供这些信息,”他说,“如果我明天去拜访,我可以见一见你的父亲吗?”
“恐怕医生不会允许。”
“医生?”
“是的,你没听说吗?可怜的父亲多年来一直体弱多病,但这次彻底击垮了他。他卧床不起,威洛斯医生说他的身体已经垮掉,神经系统也崩溃了。麦克卡锡先生是唯一一个在维多利亚时代就认识父亲的人。”
“哈!在维多利亚!这很重要。”
“是的,在矿山。”
“当然;在金矿,据我所知,特纳先生就是在那里赚了钱。”
“是的,确实如此。”
“谢谢你,特纳小姐。你对我帮助很大。”
“如果你明天有什么消息,请告诉我。毫无疑问,你会去监狱看望詹姆斯。哦,如果你去,福尔摩斯先生,请告诉他我知道他是无辜的。”
“我会的,特纳小姐。”
“我现在必须回家了,因为父亲病得很重,他非常想念我。再见,愿上帝保佑你在这次任务中一切顺利。”她像进来时一样冲动地离开了房间,我们听到她的马车车轮在街道上嘎吱作响。
“我为你感到羞耻,福尔摩斯,”几分钟后,莱斯特雷德带着尊严地说,“你为什么要提出你注定要失望的希望?我并不特别心软,但我认为这是残忍的。”
“我认为我找到了澄清詹姆斯·麦克卡锡案件的方法,”福尔摩斯说,“你有命令可以去监狱看他吗?”
“是的,但只有你和我在场。”
“那么,我将重新考虑我的外出决定。我们还有时间去这里福德坐火车,今晚去看他?”
“足够了。”
我与他们一同走到车站,然后漫步穿过小镇的街道,最后回到酒店,躺在沙发上,试图对一本黄色封面的小说产生兴趣。然而,与我们所探寻的深刻谜团相比,故事薄弱的情节显得如此单薄,我发现自己不断地从行动转移到事实,最后将书扔到房间另一边,完全沉浸在对当天事件的思考中。假设这位不幸的年轻人的故事完全真实,那么在他与父亲分别到他被儿子的尖叫声吸引而冲进空地之间的这段时间里,发生了什么可怕且无法预见的灾难?那一定是一件可怕的事情。会是什么呢?这些伤害的性质是否能揭示一些对我的医学直觉有启示的东西?我按响了铃,叫人送来每周的县报,其中包含了验尸的详细记录。
外科医生的证词中提到,左顶骨的后三分之一和左半侧枕骨被钝器重击而破碎。我在自己的头上标记了这个位置。显然,这样的打击一定是从后面打来的。这在一定程度上有利于被告,因为当看到他们争吵时,他正面对着父亲。然而,这并没有太大的帮助,因为年长的男人可能在打击到来之前就已经转身了。尽管如此,也许值得将这一点引起福尔摩斯的注意。然后还有那个临终时提到的老鼠。那是什么意思呢?这不可能是谵妄。一个突然受到打击而死的人通常不会变得谵妄。不,这更可能是他试图解释自己是如何遭遇命运的。但那又意味着什么呢?我绞尽脑汁寻找可能的解释。然后是麦克卡锡年轻看到的灰色布料。如果这是真的,那么凶手在逃跑时一定掉落了他衣服的一部分,可能是他的外套,并且他竟然有胆量在儿子跪在离他不远的地方,背对着他时返回并带走它。整个事情充满了谜团和不可能性!我不奇怪莱斯特雷德的观点,然而我对福尔摩斯的洞察力如此有信心,只要每个新事实似乎都在加强他对麦克卡锡无辜的信念,我就不会失去希望。
福尔摩斯很晚才回来。他独自一人回来,因为莱斯特雷德正在镇上的住所住下。
“他从他那里学到了什么?”
“什么都没有。”
“他不能提供一些线索吗?”
“完全没有。我曾经一度认为他知道是谁干的,但他在掩护那个人,但现在我确信他和我们其他人一样困惑。他虽然外表英俊,但心智并不敏捷。”
“我无法赞赏他的品味,”我说,“如果确实如此,他竟然会拒绝与如此迷人的年轻女士——特纳小姐——结婚。”
“啊,这背后有一个相当痛苦的故事。这个人疯狂地、疯狂地爱上了她,但大约两年前,他还是个孩子,在真正了解她之前——因为她已经在寄宿学校待了五年——这个白痴竟然在布里斯托尔和一个酒吧女招待勾搭上了,并在登记处和她结婚?没有人知道这件事的任何细节,但你可以想象这对他的折磨有多么疯狂,他被责备没有做他愿意用眼睛去做的,但他知道这是绝对不可能的。正是这种疯狂让他在他父亲在他们最后一次会面时催促他向特纳小姐求婚时,举手投降。另一方面,他没有办法养活自己,而且据说是非常严厉的父亲,如果知道真相,肯定会彻底抛弃他。他和酒吧女招待妻子在布里斯托尔度过了最后三天,而他的父亲并不知道他在哪里。记住这一点。这一点很重要。然而,坏事也带来了好处,酒吧女招待从报纸上得知他陷入了严重的麻烦,可能要被绞死,她彻底抛弃了他,并写信给他,说她已经在百慕大造船厂有了丈夫,所以他们之间实际上没有任何联系。我想这个消息让年轻的麦卡锡为所有他所遭受的痛苦感到安慰。”
“但如果他是无辜的,是谁干的?”
“啊!是谁?我特别想提醒你两点。一点是,被谋杀的人有一个和某人在游泳池的约会,而那个人不可能是他的儿子,因为他的儿子不在家,他也不知道他什么时候会回来。另一点是,在被谋杀的人知道他的儿子回来之前,有人听到他喊‘Cooee!’这些是案件的关键点。现在,如果你愿意,让我们谈谈乔治·梅瑞迪斯,然后我们明天再讨论其他小事。”
正如福尔摩斯所预言的,那天没有下雨,早晨阳光明媚,云彩稀少。九点钟,雷斯垂德带着马车来接我们,我们出发前往哈瑟利农场和博斯康比游泳池。
“今天早上有严重的消息,”雷斯垂德说,“据说霍尔庄园的特纳先生病得很重,生命垂危。”
“我想他是个老人吧?”福尔摩斯说。
大约六十岁;但他的体质因在国外的生活而受到摧残,他已经身体多病有一段时间了。这笔生意对他影响极坏。他是麦卡锡的老朋友,我可以补充一点,也是他的大恩人,因为我听说他曾经免费把哈瑟利农场租给麦卡锡。
“真的!这很有趣。”福尔摩斯说。
“哦,是的!他还有许多其他方面的帮助。这里每个人都谈论他对他的善意。”
“真的!你不觉得麦卡锡这个人在自己身上似乎没有什么,对特纳有如此多的亏欠,却还谈论要把他的儿子嫁给特纳的女儿,而这位女儿据推测将是遗产的继承人,而且态度如此自信,仿佛这只是一个求婚的问题,其他一切都会随之而来吗?这更加奇怪,因为我们知道特纳本人并不赞成这个想法。女儿也这么告诉我们。你不从中得出什么结论吗?”
“我们已经到了推理和推断的阶段了,”莱斯特雷德一边眨眼一边对我说,“福尔摩斯,我发现处理事实已经很困难了,更不用说追逐理论和幻想了。”
“你说得对,”福尔摩斯谦逊地说,“你确实发现处理事实非常困难。”
“无论如何,我掌握了一个你似乎很难抓住的事实,”莱斯特雷德带着一些热情回答说。
“那就是——”
“那就是麦卡锡老先生是被麦卡锡小儿子杀死的,而所有相反的理论都只是空想。”
“嗯,空想比雾气明亮,”福尔摩斯笑着说,“但如果这不是左边的哈瑟利农场,我就大错特错了。”
“是的,就是那里。”那是一座宽敞舒适的建筑,两层楼高,石板屋顶,灰色墙上覆盖着大片的黄色地衣。然而,拉下的窗帘和无烟的烟囱让它看起来有些凄凉,仿佛这恐怖的重量仍然沉重地压在它上面。我们敲响了门,应福尔摩斯的要求,女仆向我们展示了她主人死亡时穿的靴子,还有一双儿子的靴子,尽管不是他当时的那双。仔细从七个或八个不同的点测量了这些靴子后,福尔摩斯要求我们带他去庭院,我们从蜿蜒的小路跟随着前往博斯康比池。
福尔摩斯一闻到这样的线索,就会变得判若两人。那些只知道贝克街那位安静的思想家和逻辑学家的人,根本无法认出他。他的脸庞泛红,变得暗沉。他的眉毛拧成两条坚硬的黑线,而他的眼睛从下面闪烁着钢一样的光芒。他的脸向下倾斜,肩膀弯曲,嘴唇紧闭,长而结实的脖子上青筋暴起。他的鼻孔似乎因为对追捕的纯粹动物欲望而扩张,他的心思完全集中在眼前的任务上,以至于任何问题或评论都未能引起他的注意,最多只能激起他快速而急躁的咆哮作为回应。他迅速而无声地沿着穿过草地的路径前进,然后穿过树林到达博斯康比池。那是一片潮湿、沼泽的土地,整个地区都是如此,路径上和两侧的短草中都有许多脚印。有时他会匆匆前行,有时会突然停下,甚至有一次他绕了个小弯进入草地。雷斯垂德和我跟在他后面,侦探显得漠不关心且轻蔑,而我则带着浓厚的兴趣观察着我的朋友,因为我坚信他的每一个动作都是为了达到一个明确的目的。
博斯康比池是一片约五十码宽的芦苇环绕的水面,位于哈瑟利农场和富有的特纳先生私人公园的边界上。在池子另一侧的树林上方,我们可以看到红色、突出的尖塔,那是富有的地主住宅的位置。在池子的哈瑟利一侧,树林非常茂密,树木边缘和湖边芦苇之间有一片二十步宽的湿草带。雷斯垂德向我们展示了发现尸体的确切地点,确实,地面如此潮湿,以至于我清楚地看到了那个不幸的人坠落留下的痕迹。从福尔摩斯热切的面容和锐利的目光中,我可以看出,在践踏的草地上还有很多其他东西可以解读。他像一只正在嗅味的狗一样跑来跑去,然后转向我的同伴。
“你为什么要进入池子里?”他问道。
“我用耙子钓鱼。我想可能有一些武器或其他线索。但究竟——”
哎呀,哎呀!我没有时间了!你的左脚,那个向内扭曲的脚,到处都是。连鼹鼠都能追踪到,然后它就在芦苇丛中消失了。哦,如果我在他们像一群水牛一样涌来,把一切都弄得一团糟之前在这里,事情会多么简单啊。这里是守林人举行聚会的地方,他们已经把周围六到八英尺的痕迹都掩盖了。但是这里有三个相同的脚印。”他拿出放大镜,躺在他防水布上,以便更好地观察,一边说话,一边更像是在自言自语。“这是小麦克卡锡的脚印。他两次在走,一次快速奔跑,所以脚底痕迹很深,脚跟几乎看不见。这证实了他的故事。当他看到父亲倒在地上时,他跑了。然后这里是有节奏地来回走动的父亲的脚印。那么这是什么呢?这是儿子站着听时的枪筒末端。而这个呢?哈哈!我们发现了什么?脚尖!脚尖!靴子也很规矩,非常不寻常!它们来来去去,再来一次——当然是为了披风。那么它们是从哪里来的呢?”他来回跑动,有时找不到,有时又找到了脚印,直到我们到达树林边缘,在一棵大橡树的阴影下,这是附近最大的树。福尔摩斯追踪着路径,来到另一边,再次躺下,发出一声满意的叹息。他久久地待在那里,翻动树叶和干树枝,把看起来像是灰尘的东西收集到信封里,用放大镜检查,不仅检查地面,甚至检查了他能触及的树皮。一块参差不齐的石头躺在苔藓中,他也仔细检查并保留了下来。然后他沿着树林中的小路走,直到来到大路上,那里所有的痕迹都消失了。
“这是一个相当有趣的案件,”他评论道,恢复了自然的态度。“我想右边的那座灰色房子一定是守林人的小屋。我想我会进去和莫兰说句话,也许写个便条。做了这些之后,我们可以开车回吃午餐。你可以步行去马车,我很快就会和你在一起。”
大约过了十分钟,我们才重新回到马车,驶回罗斯,福尔摩斯仍然拿着他在树林里捡到的石头。
“这可能会让你感兴趣,”他一边说,一边把石头递出来。“这起谋杀案就是用这把石头干的。”
“我看不出有什么痕迹。”
“没有。”
“那么你怎么知道的呢?”
“草长在石头下面。它只在那里躺了几天。没有迹象表明它曾经被取走的地方。它与伤口相符。没有其他武器的迹象。”
“那么凶手呢?”
他身材高大,左撇子,右腿跛行,穿着厚底射击靴,披着灰色斗篷,吸印度雪茄,使用雪茄夹,口袋里揣着一把钝头小刀。还有其他几个迹象,但这些可能已经足够帮助我们找到线索了。
莱斯特雷德笑了。“恐怕我仍然是个怀疑者,”他说。“理论都很好,但我们得面对一群顽固的英国陪审团。”
“我们拭目以待,”福尔摩斯平静地回答。“你按你的方法行事,我按我的方法行事。今天下午我会很忙,可能晚上会乘火车回伦敦。”
“那案子怎么办?”
“不,案子已经结束了。”
“那谜团呢?”
“谜团已经解开。”
“那么罪犯是谁?”
“我描述的那位绅士。”
“他是谁?”
“当然不难找出。这个地区并不那么人口众多。”
莱斯特雷德耸了耸肩。“我是一个务实的人,”他说,“我真的不能承诺在全国各地寻找一个左撇子跛脚绅士。我会成为苏格兰场的笑柄。”
“好吧,”福尔摩斯平静地说。“我已经给你机会了。这是你的住处。再见。我离开前会给你写信的。”
把莱斯特雷德送到他的房间后,我们驱车前往我们的酒店,发现餐桌上已经摆好了午餐。福尔摩斯沉默不语,面露痛苦的表情,仿佛他发现自己处于一个令人困惑的境地。
“看这里,华生,”当餐巾被撤下时他说,“就坐在这把椅子上,让我给你讲一会儿。我不知道该怎么办,我很重视你的建议。点根雪茄,让我来解释。”
“请吧。”
“好吧,现在,在考虑这个案子时,有两个关于麦克阿瑟叙述的点立刻引起了我们的注意,尽管它们让我对他有利而你却对他不利。一个是根据他的描述,他的父亲应该在看到他之前喊‘Cooee!’。另一个是他临终时对老鼠的特殊提及。他嘟囔了几句话,你明白,但那只是儿子听到的。现在,我们的研究必须从这里开始,我们将从假设这个男孩说的是绝对真实的事情开始。”
“那么这个‘Cooee!’是怎么回事?”
“很明显,它不可能是对儿子说的。儿子据他所知,在布里斯托尔。他刚好在附近纯属巧合。‘Cooee!’是澳大利亚特有的呼喊声,是澳大利亚人之间使用的。有很强的推测,麦克阿瑟在博斯康姆池等待的人是曾在澳大利亚待过的人。”
“那么老鼠呢?”
福尔摩斯从口袋里拿出一叠纸,把它平铺在桌子上。“这是一张维多利亚殖民地的地图,”他说,“我昨晚给布里斯托尔发电报要的。”他用手遮住地图的一部分。“你看到了什么?”
“ARAT,”我读道。
“那么现在呢?”他举起手。
“巴拉拉特。”
“完全正确。那正是那个人说出的单词,而他的儿子只听到了最后两个音节。他试图说出他杀手的名字。某某,来自巴拉拉特。”
“太神奇了!”我惊呼。
“这是显而易见的。现在,你看,我已经大大缩小了范围。拥有灰色衣物是第三个确定无疑的点,假设儿子的陈述是正确的。我们现在已经从模糊的概念转变为对一位来自巴拉拉特的澳大利亚人,穿着灰色斗篷的明确概念。”
“当然。”
“而且他对这个地区很熟悉,因为池塘只能从农场或地产这边接近,陌生人很难在那里徘徊。”
“完全正确。”
“那么今天的探险就来了。通过观察地面,我得到了那些微不足道的细节,我把它们告诉了那个愚蠢的雷斯垂德,关于罪犯的个性。”
“但是你是怎么得到这些细节的?”
“你知道我的方法。它基于对细节的观察。”
“他的身高我知道你可以从他的步幅大致判断。他的靴子,从痕迹上也可以看出。”
“是的,他的靴子很特别。”
“但是他的跛脚?”
“他右脚的印迹总是比左脚不明显。他在这只脚上用的力更小。为什么?因为他跛脚——他是跛子。”
“但是他的左撇子?”
“你自己也注意到了手术记录中记录的伤害的性质。打击是从背后打来的,但却是左边的。那么,除非是左撇子,这怎么可能呢?他在父亲和儿子谈话时站在那棵树后面。他甚至在那里抽过烟。我找到了一个雪茄烟蒂,凭借我对烟草灰烬的特殊知识,我能够断定这是一支印度雪茄。你知道,我在这方面投入了一些关注,并写了一篇关于140种不同品种的烟斗、雪茄和香烟烟草灰烬的短文。找到烟蒂后,我环顾四周,发现他在苔藓中扔掉的烟蒂。那是一支印度雪茄,是那种在鹿特丹卷制的。”
“那么雪茄夹呢?”
“我能看出烟蒂的末端并没有放在他嘴里。因此他使用了雪茄夹。烟蒂是被剪掉的,而不是被咬掉的,但剪得不干净,所以我推断他使用的是一把钝头小刀。”
“福尔摩斯,”我说,“你已经在这个男人周围布下了一张网,他无法逃脱,你就像剪断悬挂着他的绳索一样,救了一个无辜的人的生命。我看到这一切都指向了同一个方向。罪犯是——”
就在这时,酒店服务员打开了我们的客厅门,引进了一位访客。
走进来的这个人是个奇特而令人印象深刻的人物。他缓慢、跛行的步伐和弯曲的肩膀给人一种衰老的感觉,然而他那坚硬、深陷、崎岖的面容,以及他那巨大的肢体却显示出他拥有非凡的身体和性格力量。他杂乱无章的胡须、灰白的头发和突出、低垂的眉毛共同赋予了他外表的尊严和力量,但他的脸色苍白如灰,嘴唇和鼻翼的角落却泛着一种蓝色。我一眼就能看出,他正被某种致命的慢性疾病所困扰。
“请坐到沙发上,”福尔摩斯温和地说,“你收到我的信了吗?”
“是的,看门人把它带上来。你说你想在这里见我,以避免丑闻。”
“我以为如果我去了大厅,人们会议论纷纷。”
“你为什么想见我?”他绝望地望着我的同伴,仿佛他的问题已经得到了回答。
“是的,”福尔摩斯回答了他的目光,而不是他的话。“是这样的。我对麦克卡锡的事情一清二楚。”
老人将脸埋在手中。“上帝保佑我!”他喊道。“但我不会让那个年轻人受到伤害。我向你保证,如果在上诉法庭上不利于他,我会站出来。”
“我很高兴听到你这么说,”福尔摩斯严肃地说。
“如果我的女儿不在,我现在就会说出来。这会让她心碎——当她听说我被逮捕时,她的心会碎的。”
“也许不会发展到那一步,”福尔摩斯说。
“什么?”
“我不是官方代理人。我明白是你的女儿需要我来这里,我在为她行事。无论如何,我们必须让年轻的麦克卡锡脱罪。”
“我是个垂死之人,”老特纳说。“我患有糖尿病多年。我的医生说我可能活不过一个月。然而,我宁愿死在自己的屋檐下,也不愿在监狱里。”
福尔摩斯站起来,坐在桌前,手里拿着笔,面前是一堆纸。“只告诉我们真相,”他说。“我会记下事实。你会在上面签字,沃森可以作证。然后我可以在最后关头出示你的供词,以救年轻的麦克卡锡。我向你保证,除非绝对必要,否则我不会使用它。”
“好吧,”老人说;“我可能活不到上诉法庭,所以这对我来说无关紧要,但我希望避免给爱丽丝带来震惊。现在,我会把事情清楚地告诉你;这已经酝酿了很长时间,但我会很快说清楚。
“你不知道这个死者,麦克卡锡。他是一个魔鬼。我告诉你这一点。愿上帝保佑你远离像他这样的人。他对我施加了二十年的控制,毁了我的生活。我先告诉你我是如何落入他的掌控之中的。”
六十年代初,我在淘金地。那时我还是个年轻人,热血冲动,无所畏惧,什么都愿意尝试;我结识了不良之徒,沾染了酒瘾,我的矿地运气不佳,便逃进了荒野,总之,成了你们这里所说的公路大盗。我们一共有六个人,过着放荡不羁的生活,时不时地拦路抢劫,或者拦截通往淘金地的马车。我在巴拉拉尔以“黑杰克”的名字行事,我们的团伙在殖民地仍被铭记为巴拉拉尔帮。
有一天,一支金车队从巴拉拉尔开往墨尔本,我们埋伏下来,对其发起了攻击。对方有六个骑兵,我们这边也有六个,所以这是一场险恶的较量,但我们第一轮射击就打倒了他们四个。然而,在我们拿到财宝之前,我们有三个人牺牲了。我把手枪顶在马车夫的头上,他就是麦克卡锡这个人。我真心希望当时就开枪打死他,但我还是放过了他,尽管我看到他那邪恶的小眼睛紧紧地盯着我,仿佛要记住我的每一个特征。我们带着金子逃走了,成了有钱人,并且没有引起任何怀疑地来到了英国。在那里,我与老朋友们分道扬镳,决定过上安静而体面的生活。我买下了这块恰好上市的地产,并决心用我的钱做一些善事,以弥补我过去赚取财富的方式。我也结婚了,尽管我的妻子年轻时就去世了,但她留给了我亲爱的爱丽丝。甚至在她还是个婴儿的时候,她的小手似乎就引导我走上了正确的道路,就像其他任何东西都无法做到的那样。总之,我洗心革面,尽力弥补过去的错误。一切都在顺利进行,直到麦克卡锡抓住了我。
我去城里处理一项投资,在摄政街遇见了他,他几乎身上没有一件外套,脚上没有一双靴子。
“杰克,我们在这里,”他拍拍我的手臂说,“我们会像一家人一样对你好。我们两个人,我和我的儿子,你可以照顾我们。如果你不——英国是个守法的好国家,总有一名警察在附近。”
好吧,他们跟着我来到了西部,我无法摆脱他们,从那以后,他们就一直免费住在我的最好土地上。我得不到安宁,没有和平,无法忘记;无论我走到哪里,他的狡猾、微笑的脸总是在我的肘边。随着爱丽丝的成长,情况变得更糟,因为他很快看出我更害怕她知道我的过去,而不是害怕警察。他想要什么,就必须得到,无论是什么,我都毫不犹豫地给了他,土地、金钱、房屋,直到最后,他提出了我无法给予的东西。他要求爱丽丝。
“His son, you see, had grown up, and so had my girl, and as I was known to be in weak health, it seemed a fine stroke to him that his lad should step into the whole property. But there I was firm. I would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine; not that I had any dislike to the lad, but his blood was in him, and that was enough. I stood firm. McCarthy threatened. I braved him to do his worst. We were to meet at the pool midway between our houses to talk it over.
“When I went down there I found him talking with his son, so I smoked a cigar and waited behind a tree until he should be alone. But as I listened to his talk all that was black and bitter in me seemed to come uppermost. He was urging his son to marry my daughter with as little regard for what she might think as if she were a slut from off the streets. It drove me mad to think that I and all that I held most dear should be in the power of such a man as this. Could I not snap the bond? I was already a dying and a desperate man. Though clear of mind and fairly strong of limb, I knew that my own fate was sealed. But my memory and my girl! Both could be saved if I could but silence that foul tongue. I did it, Mr. Holmes. I would do it again. Deeply as I have sinned, I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But that my girl should be entangled in the same meshes which held me was more than I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunction than if he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry brought back his son; but I had gained the cover of the wood, though I was forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped in my flight. That is the true story, gentlemen, of all that occurred.”
“Well, it is not for me to judge you, ” said Holmes as the old man signed the statement which had been drawn out. “I pray that we may never be exposed to such a temptation.”
“I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do? ”
“In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that you will soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than the Assizes. I will keep your confession, and if McCarthy is condemned I shall be forced to use it. If not, it shall never be seen by mortal eye; and your secret, whether you be alive or dead, shall be safe with us.”
“Farewell, then, ” said the old man solemnly. “Your own deathbeds, when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peace which you have given to mine.” Tottering and shaking in all his giant frame, he stumbled slowly from the room.
“God help us! ” said Holmes after a long silence. “Why does fate play such tricks with poor, helpless worms? I never hear of such a case as this that I do not think of Baxter’s words, and say, ‘There, but for the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.’”
James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of a number of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes and submitted to the defending counsel. Old Turner lived for seven months after our interview, but he is now dead; and there is every prospect that the son and daughter may come to live happily together in ignorance of the black cloud which rests upon their past.
V. 五个橙子印
When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmes cases between the years ’82 and ’90, I am faced by so many which present strange and interesting features that it is no easy matter to know which to choose and which to leave. Some, however, have already gained publicity through the papers, and others have not offered a field for those peculiar qualities which my friend possessed in so high a degree, and which it is the object of these papers to illustrate. Some, too, have baffled his analytical skill, and would be, as narratives, beginnings without an ending, while others have been but partially cleared up, and have their explanations founded rather upon conjecture and surmise than on that absolute logical proof which was so dear to him. There is, however, one of these last which was so remarkable in its details and so startling in its results that I am tempted to give some account of it in spite of the fact that there are points in connection with it which never have been, and probably never will be, entirely cleared up.
The year ’87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greater or less interest, of which I retain the records. Among my headings under this one twelve months I find an account of the adventure of the Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur Mendicant Society, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of a furniture warehouse, of the facts connected with the loss of the British barque _Sophy Anderson_, of the singular adventures of the Grice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and finally of the Camberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as may be remembered, Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead man’s watch, to prove that it had been wound up two hours before, and that therefore the deceased had gone to bed within that time—a deduction which was of the greatest importance in clearing up the case. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none of them present such singular features as the strange train of circumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe.
It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial gales had set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind had screamed and the rain had beaten against the windows, so that even here in the heart of great, hand-made London we were forced to raise our minds for the instant from the routine of life and to recognise the presence of those great elemental forces which shriek at mankind through the bars of his civilisation, like untamed beasts in a cage. As evening drew in, the storm grew higher and louder, and the wind cried and sobbed like a child in the chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of the fireplace cross-indexing his records of crime, while I at the other was deep in one of Clark Russell’s fine sea-stories until the howl of the gale from without seemed to blend with the text, and the splash of the rain to lengthen out into the long swash of the sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother’s, and for a few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at Baker Street.
“Why, ” said I, glancing up at my companion, “that was surely the bell. Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps? ”
“Except yourself I have none, ” he answered. “I do not encourage visitors.”
“A client, then? ”
“If so, it is a serious case. Nothing less would bring a man out on such a day and at such an hour. But I take it that it is more likely to be some crony of the landlady’s.”
Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for there came a step in the passage and a tapping at the door. He stretched out his long arm to turn the lamp away from himself and towards the vacant chair upon which a newcomer must sit.
“Come in! ” said he.
The man who entered was young, some two-and-twenty at the outside, well-groomed and trimly clad, with something of refinement and delicacy in his bearing. The streaming umbrella which he held in his hand, and his long shining waterproof told of the fierce weather through which he had come. He looked about him anxiously in the glare of the lamp, and I could see that his face was pale and his eyes heavy, like those of a man who is weighed down with some great anxiety.
“I owe you an apology, ” he said, raising his golden pince-nez to his eyes. “I trust that I am not intruding. I fear that I have brought some traces of the storm and rain into your snug chamber.”
“Give me your coat and umbrella, ” said Holmes. “They may rest here on the hook and will be dry presently. You have come up from the south-west, I see.”
“Yes, from Horsham.”
“That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon your toe caps is quite distinctive.”
“I have come for advice.”
“That is easily got.”
“And help.”
“That is not always so easy.”
“I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I heard from Major Prendergast how you saved him in the Tankerville Club scandal.”
“Ah, of course. He was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards.”
“He said that you could solve anything.”
“He said too much.”
“That you are never beaten.”
“I have been beaten four times—three times by men, and once by a woman.”
“But what is that compared with the number of your successes? ”
“It is true that I have been generally successful.”
“Then you may be so with me.”
“I beg that you will draw your chair up to the fire and favour me with some details as to your case.”
“It is no ordinary one.”
“None of those which come to me are. I am the last court of appeal.”
“And yet I question, sir, whether, in all your experience, you have ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of events than those which have happened in my own family.”
“You fill me with interest, ” said Holmes. “Pray give us the essential facts from the commencement, and I can afterwards question you as to those details which seem to me to be most important.”
The young man pulled his chair up and pushed his wet feet out towards the blaze.
“My name, ” said he, “is John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, as far as I can understand, little to do with this awful business. It is a hereditary matter; so in order to give you an idea of the facts, I must go back to the commencement of the affair.
“You must know that my grandfather had two sons—my uncle Elias and my father Joseph. My father had a small factory at Coventry, which he enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling. He was a patentee of the Openshaw unbreakable tire, and his business met with such success that he was able to sell it and to retire upon a handsome competence.
“My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and became a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done very well. At the time of the war he fought in Jackson’s army, and afterwards under Hood, where he rose to be a colonel. When Lee laid down his arms my uncle returned to his plantation, where he remained for three or four years. About 1869 or 1870 he came back to Europe and took a small estate in Sussex, near Horsham. He had made a very considerable fortune in the States, and his reason for leaving them was his aversion to the negroes, and his dislike of the Republican policy in extending the franchise to them. He was a singular man, fierce and quick-tempered, very foul-mouthed when he was angry, and of a most retiring disposition. During all the years that he lived at Horsham, I doubt if ever he set foot in the town. He had a garden and two or three fields round his house, and there he would take his exercise, though very often for weeks on end he would never leave his room. He drank a great deal of brandy and smoked very heavily, but he would see no society and did not want any friends, not even his own brother.
“He didn’t mind me; in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the time when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so. This would be in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years in England. He begged my father to let me live with him and he was very kind to me in his way. When he was sober he used to be fond of playing backgammon and draughts with me, and he would make me his representative both with the servants and with the tradespeople, so that by the time that I was sixteen I was quite master of the house. I kept all the keys and could go where I liked and do what I liked, so long as I did not disturb him in his privacy. There was one singular exception, however, for he had a single room, a lumber-room up among the attics, which was invariably locked, and which he would never permit either me or anyone else to enter. With a boy’s curiosity I have peeped through the keyhole, but I was never able to see more than such a collection of old trunks and bundles as would be expected in such a room.
“One day—it was in March, 1883—a letter with a foreign stamp lay upon the table in front of the colonel’s plate. It was not a common thing for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in ready money, and he had no friends of any sort. ‘From India! ’ said he as he took it up, ‘Pondicherry postmark! What can this be? ’ Opening it hurriedly, out there jumped five little dried orange pips, which pattered down upon his plate. I began to laugh at this, but the laugh was struck from my lips at the sight of his face. His lip had fallen, his eyes were protruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared at the envelope which he still held in his trembling hand, ‘K. K. K.! ’ he shrieked, and then, ‘My God, my God, my sins have overtaken me! ’
“‘What is it, uncle? ’ I cried.
“‘Death, ’ said he, and rising from the table he retired to his room, leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope and saw scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the letter K three times repeated. There was nothing else save the five dried pips. What could be the reason of his overpowering terror? I left the breakfast-table, and as I ascended the stair I met him coming down with an old rusty key, which must have belonged to the attic, in one hand, and a small brass box, like a cashbox, in the other.
“‘They may do what they like, but I’ll checkmate them still, ’ said he with an oath. ‘Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my room to-day, and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.’
“I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to step up to the room. The fire was burning brightly, and in the grate there was a mass of black, fluffy ashes, as of burned paper, while the brass box stood open and empty beside it. As I glanced at the box I noticed, with a start, that upon the lid was printed the treble K which I had read in the morning upon the envelope.
“‘I wish you, John, ’ said my uncle, ‘to witness my will. I leave my estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to my brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt, descend to you. If you can enjoy it in peace, well and good! If you find you cannot, take my advice, my boy, and leave it to your deadliest enemy. I am sorry to give you such a two-edged thing, but I can’t say what turn things are going to take. Kindly sign the paper where Mr. Fordham shows you.’
“I signed the paper as directed, and the lawyer took it away with him. The singular incident made, as you may think, the deepest impression upon me, and I pondered over it and turned it every way in my mind without being able to make anything of it. Yet I could not shake off the vague feeling of dread which it left behind, though the sensation grew less keen as the weeks passed and nothing happened to disturb the usual routine of our lives. I could see a change in my uncle, however. He drank more than ever, and he was less inclined for any sort of society. Most of his time he would spend in his room, with the door locked upon the inside, but sometimes he would emerge in a sort of drunken frenzy and would burst out of the house and tear about the garden with a revolver in his hand, screaming out that he was afraid of no man, and that he was not to be cooped up, like a sheep in a pen, by man or devil. When these hot fits were over, however, he would rush tumultuously in at the door and lock and bar it behind him, like a man who can brazen it out no longer against the terror which lies at the roots of his soul. At such times I have seen his face, even on a cold day, glisten with moisture, as though it were new raised from a basin.
“Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr. Holmes, and not to abuse your patience, there came a night when he made one of those drunken sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when we went to search for him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which lay at the foot of the garden. There was no sign of any violence, and the water was but two feet deep, so that the jury, having regard to his known eccentricity, brought in a verdict of ‘suicide.’ But I, who knew how he winced from the very thought of death, had much ado to persuade myself that he had gone out of his way to meet it. The matter passed, however, and my father entered into possession of the estate, and of some £ 14, 000, which lay to his credit at the bank.”
“One moment, ” Holmes interposed, “your statement is, I foresee, one of the most remarkable to which I have ever listened. Let me have the date of the reception by your uncle of the letter, and the date of his supposed suicide.”
“The letter arrived on March 10, 1883. His death was seven weeks later, upon the night of May 2nd.”
“Thank you. Pray proceed.”
“When my father took over the Horsham property, he, at my request, made a careful examination of the attic, which had been always locked up. We found the brass box there, although its contents had been destroyed. On the inside of the cover was a paper label, with the initials of K. K. K. repeated upon it, and ‘Letters, memoranda, receipts, and a register’ written beneath. These, we presume, indicated the nature of the papers which had been destroyed by Colonel Openshaw. For the rest, there was nothing of much importance in the attic save a great many scattered papers and note-books bearing upon my uncle’s life in America. Some of them were of the war time and showed that he had done his duty well and had borne the repute of a brave soldier. Others were of a date during the reconstruction of the Southern states, and were mostly concerned with politics, for he had evidently taken a strong part in opposing the carpet-bag politicians who had been sent down from the North.
“Well, it was the beginning of ’84 when my father came to live at Horsham, and all went as well as possible with us until the January of ’85. On the fourth day after the new year I heard my father give a sharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the breakfast-table. There he was, sitting with a newly opened envelope in one hand and five dried orange pips in the outstretched palm of the other one. He had always laughed at what he called my cock-and-bull story about the colonel, but he looked very scared and puzzled now that the same thing had come upon himself.
“‘Why, what on earth does this mean, John? ’ he stammered.
“My heart had turned to lead. ‘It is K. K. K., ’ said I.
“He looked inside the envelope. ‘So it is, ’ he cried. ‘Here are the very letters. But what is this written above them? ’
“‘Put the papers on the sundial, ’ I read, peeping over his shoulder.
“‘What papers? What sundial? ’ he asked.
“‘The sundial in the garden. There is no other, ’ said I; ‘but the papers must be those that are destroyed.’
“‘Pooh! ’ said he, gripping hard at his courage. ‘We are in a civilised land here, and we can’t have tomfoolery of this kind. Where does the thing come from? ’
“‘From Dundee, ’ I answered, glancing at the postmark.
“‘Some preposterous practical joke, ’ said he. ‘What have I to do with sundials and papers? I shall take no notice of such nonsense.’
“‘I should certainly speak to the police, ’ I said.
“‘And be laughed at for my pains. Nothing of the sort.’
“‘Then let me do so? ’
“‘No, I forbid you. I won’t have a fuss made about such nonsense.’
“It was in vain to argue with him, for he was a very obstinate man. I went about, however, with a heart which was full of forebodings.
“On the third day after the coming of the letter my father went from home to visit an old friend of his, Major Freebody, who is in command of one of the forts upon Portsdown Hill. I was glad that he should go, for it seemed to me that he was farther from danger when he was away from home. In that, however, I was in error. Upon the second day of his absence I received a telegram from the major, imploring me to come at once. My father had fallen over one of the deep chalk-pits which abound in the neighbourhood, and was lying senseless, with a shattered skull. I hurried to him, but he passed away without having ever recovered his consciousness. He had, as it appears, been returning from Fareham in the twilight, and as the country was unknown to him, and the chalk-pit unfenced, the jury had no hesitation in bringing in a verdict of ‘death from accidental causes.’ Carefully as I examined every fact connected with his death, I was unable to find anything which could suggest the idea of murder. There were no signs of violence, no footmarks, no robbery, no record of strangers having been seen upon the roads. And yet I need not tell you that my mind was far from at ease, and that I was well-nigh certain that some foul plot had been woven round him.
“In this sinister way I came into my inheritance. You will ask me why I did not dispose of it? I answer, because I was well convinced that our troubles were in some way dependent upon an incident in my uncle’s life, and that the danger would be as pressing in one house as in another.
“It was in January, ’85, that my poor father met his end, and two years and eight months have elapsed since then. During that time I have lived happily at Horsham, and I had begun to hope that this curse had passed away from the family, and that it had ended with the last generation. I had begun to take comfort too soon, however; yesterday morning the blow fell in the very shape in which it had come upon my father.”
The young man took from his waistcoat a crumpled envelope, and turning to the table he shook out upon it five little dried orange pips.
“This is the envelope, ” he continued. “The postmark is London—eastern division. Within are the very words which were upon my father’s last message: ‘K. K. K.’; and then ‘Put the papers on the sundial.’”
“What have you done? ” asked Holmes.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing? ”
“To tell the truth”—he sank his face into his thin, white hands—“I have felt helpless. I have felt like one of those poor rabbits when the snake is writhing towards it. I seem to be in the grasp of some resistless, inexorable evil, which no foresight and no precautions can guard against.”
“Tut! tut! ” cried Sherlock Holmes. “You must act, man, or you are lost. Nothing but energy can save you. This is no time for despair.”
“I have seen the police.”
“Ah! ”
“But they listened to my story with a smile. I am convinced that the inspector has formed the opinion that the letters are all practical jokes, and that the deaths of my relations were really accidents, as the jury stated, and were not to be connected with the warnings.”
Holmes shook his clenched hands in the air. “Incredible imbecility! ” he cried.
“They have, however, allowed me a policeman, who may remain in the house with me.”
“Has he come with you to-night? ”
“No. His orders were to stay in the house.”
Again Holmes raved in the air.
“Why did you come to me? ” he said, “and, above all, why did you not come at once? ”
“I did not know. It was only to-day that I spoke to Major Prendergast about my troubles and was advised by him to come to you.”
“It is really two days since you had the letter. We should have acted before this. You have no further evidence, I suppose, than that which you have placed before us—no suggestive detail which might help us? ”
“There is one thing, ” said John Openshaw. He rummaged in his coat pocket, and, drawing out a piece of discoloured, blue-tinted paper, he laid it out upon the table. “I have some remembrance, ” said he, “that on the day when my uncle burned the papers I observed that the small, unburned margins which lay amid the ashes were of this particular colour. I found this single sheet upon the floor of his room, and I am inclined to think that it may be one of the papers which has, perhaps, fluttered out from among the others, and in that way has escaped destruction. Beyond the mention of pips, I do not see that it helps us much. I think myself that it is a page from some private diary. The writing is undoubtedly my uncle’s.”
Holmes moved the lamp, and we both bent over the sheet of paper, which showed by its ragged edge that it had indeed been torn from a book. It was headed, “March, 1869, ” and beneath were the following enigmatical notices:
“4th. Hudson came. Same old platform.
“7th. Set the pips on McCauley, Paramore, and John Swain of St. Augustine.
“9th. McCauley cleared.
“10th. John Swain cleared.
“12th. Visited Paramore. All well.”
“Thank you! ” said Holmes, folding up the paper and returning it to our visitor. “And now you must on no account lose another instant. We cannot spare time even to discuss what you have told me. You must get home instantly and act.”
“What shall I do? ”
“There is but one thing to do. It must be done at once. You must put this piece of paper which you have shown us into the brass box which you have described. You must also put in a note to say that all the other papers were burned by your uncle, and that this is the only one which remains. You must assert that in such words as will carry conviction with them. Having done this, you must at once put the box out upon the sundial, as directed. Do you understand? ”
“Entirely.”
“Do not think of revenge, or anything of the sort, at present. I think that we may gain that by means of the law; but we have our web to weave, while theirs is already woven. The first consideration is to remove the pressing danger which threatens you. The second is to clear up the mystery and to punish the guilty parties.”
“I thank you, ” said the young man, rising and pulling on his overcoat. “You have given me fresh life and hope. I shall certainly do as you advise.”
“Do not lose an instant. And, above all, take care of yourself in the meanwhile, for I do not think that there can be a doubt that you are threatened by a very real and imminent danger. How do you go back? ”
“By train from Waterloo.”
“It is not yet nine. The streets will be crowded, so I trust that you may be in safety. And yet you cannot guard yourself too closely.”
“I am armed.”
“That is well. To-morrow I shall set to work upon your case.”
“I shall see you at Horsham, then? ”
“No, your secret lies in London. It is there that I shall seek it.”
“Then I shall call upon you in a day, or in two days, with news as to the box and the papers. I shall take your advice in every particular.” He shook hands with us and took his leave. Outside the wind still screamed and the rain splashed and pattered against the windows. This strange, wild story seemed to have come to us from amid the mad elements—blown in upon us like a sheet of sea-weed in a gale—and now to have been reabsorbed by them once more.
Sherlock Holmes sat for some time in silence, with his head sunk forward and his eyes bent upon the red glow of the fire. Then he lit his pipe, and leaning back in his chair he watched the blue smoke-rings as they chased each other up to the ceiling.
“I think, Watson, ” he remarked at last, “that of all our cases we have had none more fantastic than this.”
“Save, perhaps, the Sign of Four.”
“Well, yes. Save, perhaps, that. And yet this John Openshaw seems to me to be walking amid even greater perils than did the Sholtos.”
“But have you, ” I asked, “formed any definite conception as to what these perils are? ”
“There can be no question as to their nature, ” he answered.
“Then what are they? Who is this K. K. K., and why does he pursue this unhappy family? ”
Sherlock Holmes closed his eyes and placed his elbows upon the arms of his chair, with his finger-tips together. “The ideal reasoner, ” he remarked, “would, when he had once been shown a single fact in all its bearings, deduce from it not only all the chain of events which led up to it but also all the results which would follow from it. As Cuvier could correctly describe a whole animal by the contemplation of a single bone, so the observer who has thoroughly understood one link in a series of incidents should be able to accurately state all the other ones, both before and after. We have not yet grasped the results which the reason alone can attain to. Problems may be solved in the study which have baffled all those who have sought a solution by the aid of their senses. To carry the art, however, to its highest pitch, it is necessary that the reasoner should be able to utilise all the facts which have come to his knowledge; and this in itself implies, as you will readily see, a possession of all knowledge, which, even in these days of free education and encyclopædias, is a somewhat rare accomplishment. It is not so impossible, however, that a man should possess all knowledge which is likely to be useful to him in his work, and this I have endeavoured in my case to do. If I remember rightly, you on one occasion, in the early days of our friendship, defined my limits in a very precise fashion.”
“Yes, ” I answered, laughing. “It was a singular document. Philosophy, astronomy, and politics were marked at zero, I remember. Botany variable, geology profound as regards the mud-stains from any region within fifty miles of town, chemistry eccentric, anatomy unsystematic, sensational literature and crime records unique, violin-player, boxer, swordsman, lawyer, and self-poisoner by cocaine and tobacco. Those, I think, were the main points of my analysis.”
Holmes grinned at the last item. “Well, ” he said, “I say now, as I said then, that a man should keep his little brain-attic stocked with all the furniture that he is likely to use, and the rest he can put away in the lumber-room of his library, where he can get it if he wants it. Now, for such a case as the one which has been submitted to us to-night, we need certainly to muster all our resources. Kindly hand me down the letter K of the _American Encyclopædia_ which stands upon the shelf beside you. Thank you. Now let us consider the situation and see what may be deduced from it. In the first place, we may start with a strong presumption that Colonel Openshaw had some very strong reason for leaving America. Men at his time of life do not change all their habits and exchange willingly the charming climate of Florida for the lonely life of an English provincial town. His extreme love of solitude in England suggests the idea that he was in fear of someone or something, so we may assume as a working hypothesis that it was fear of someone or something which drove him from America. As to what it was he feared, we can only deduce that by considering the formidable letters which were received by himself and his successors. Did you remark the postmarks of those letters? ”
“The first was from Pondicherry, the second from Dundee, and the third from London.”
“From East London. What do you deduce from that? ”
“They are all seaports. That the writer was on board of a ship.”
“Excellent. We have already a clue. There can be no doubt that the probability—the strong probability—is that the writer was on board of a ship. And now let us consider another point. In the case of Pondicherry, seven weeks elapsed between the threat and its fulfilment, in Dundee it was only some three or four days. Does that suggest anything? ”
“A greater distance to travel.”
“But the letter had also a greater distance to come.”
“Then I do not see the point.”
“There is at least a presumption that the vessel in which the man or men are is a sailing-ship. It looks as if they always send their singular warning or token before them when starting upon their mission. You see how quickly the deed followed the sign when it came from Dundee. If they had come from Pondicherry in a steamer they would have arrived almost as soon as their letter. But, as a matter of fact, seven weeks elapsed. I think that those seven weeks represented the difference between the mail-boat which brought the letter and the sailing vessel which brought the writer.”
“It is possible.”
“More than that. It is probable. And now you see the deadly urgency of this new case, and why I urged young Openshaw to caution. The blow has always fallen at the end of the time which it would take the senders to travel the distance. But this one comes from London, and therefore we cannot count upon delay.”
“Good God! ” I cried. “What can it mean, this relentless persecution? ”
“The papers which Openshaw carried are obviously of vital importance to the person or persons in the sailing-ship. I think that it is quite clear that there must be more than one of them. A single man could not have carried out two deaths in such a way as to deceive a coroner’s jury. There must have been several in it, and they must have been men of resource and determination. Their papers they mean to have, be the holder of them who it may. In this way you see K. K. K. ceases to be the initials of an individual and becomes the badge of a society.”
“But of what society? ”
“Have you never—” said Sherlock Holmes, bending forward and sinking his voice—“have you never heard of the Ku Klux Klan? ”
“I never have.”
Holmes turned over the leaves of the book upon his knee. “Here it is, ” said he presently:
“‘Ku Klux Klan. A name derived from the fanciful resemblance to the sound produced by cocking a rifle. This terrible secret society was formed by some ex-Confederate soldiers in the Southern states after the Civil War, and it rapidly formed local branches in different parts of the country, notably in Tennessee, Louisiana, the Carolinas, Georgia, and Florida. Its power was used for political purposes, principally for the terrorising of the negro voters and the murdering and driving from the country of those who were opposed to its views. Its outrages were usually preceded by a warning sent to the marked man in some fantastic but generally recognised shape—a sprig of oak-leaves in some parts, melon seeds or orange pips in others. On receiving this the victim might either openly abjure his former ways, or might fly from the country. If he braved the matter out, death would unfailingly come upon him, and usually in some strange and unforeseen manner. So perfect was the organisation of the society, and so systematic its methods, that there is hardly a case upon record where any man succeeded in braving it with impunity, or in which any of its outrages were traced home to the perpetrators. For some years the organisation flourished in spite of the efforts of the United States government and of the better classes of the community in the South. Eventually, in the year 1869, the movement rather suddenly collapsed, although there have been sporadic outbreaks of the same sort since that date.’
“You will observe, ” said Holmes, laying down the volume, “that the sudden breaking up of the society was coincident with the disappearance of Openshaw from America with their papers. It may well have been cause and effect. It is no wonder that he and his family have some of the more implacable spirits upon their track. You can understand that this register and diary may implicate some of the first men in the South, and that there may be many who will not sleep easy at night until it is recovered.”
“Then the page we have seen—”
“Is such as we might expect. It ran, if I remember right, ‘sent the pips to A, B, and C’—that is, sent the society’s warning to them. Then there are successive entries that A and B cleared, or left the country, and finally that C was visited, with, I fear, a sinister result for C. Well, I think, Doctor, that we may let some light into this dark place, and I believe that the only chance young Openshaw has in the meantime is to do what I have told him. There is nothing more to be said or to be done to-night, so hand me over my violin and let us try to forget for half an hour the miserable weather and the still more miserable ways of our fellow men.”
It had cleared in the morning, and the sun was shining with a subdued brightness through the dim veil which hangs over the great city. Sherlock Holmes was already at breakfast when I came down.
“You will excuse me for not waiting for you, ” said he; “I have, I foresee, a very busy day before me in looking into this case of young Openshaw’s.”
“What steps will you take? ” I asked.
“It will very much depend upon the results of my first inquiries. I may have to go down to Horsham, after all.”
“You will not go there first? ”
“No, I shall commence with the City. Just ring the bell and the maid will bring up your coffee.”
As I waited, I lifted the unopened newspaper from the table and glanced my eye over it. It rested upon a heading which sent a chill to my heart.
“Holmes, ” I cried, “you are too late.”
“Ah! ” said he, laying down his cup, “I feared as much. How was it done? ” He spoke calmly, but I could see that he was deeply moved.
“My eye caught the name of Openshaw, and the heading ‘Tragedy Near Waterloo Bridge.’ Here is the account:
“‘Between nine and ten last night Police-Constable Cook, of the H Division, on duty near Waterloo Bridge, heard a cry for help and a splash in the water. The night, however, was extremely dark and stormy, so that, in spite of the help of several passers-by, it was quite impossible to effect a rescue. The alarm, however, was given, and, by the aid of the water-police, the body was eventually recovered. It proved to be that of a young gentleman whose name, as it appears from an envelope which was found in his pocket, was John Openshaw, and whose residence is near Horsham. It is conjectured that he may have been hurrying down to catch the last train from Waterloo Station, and that in his haste and the extreme darkness he missed his path and walked over the edge of one of the small landing-places for river steamboats. The body exhibited no traces of violence, and there can be no doubt that the deceased had been the victim of an unfortunate accident, which should have the effect of calling the attention of the authorities to the condition of the riverside landing-stages.’”
We sat in silence for some minutes, Holmes more depressed and shaken than I had ever seen him.
“That hurts my pride, Watson, ” he said at last. “It is a petty feeling, no doubt, but it hurts my pride. It becomes a personal matter with me now, and, if God sends me health, I shall set my hand upon this gang. That he should come to me for help, and that I should send him away to his death—! ” He sprang from his chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable agitation, with a flush upon his sallow cheeks and a nervous clasping and unclasping of his long thin hands.
“They must be cunning devils, ” he exclaimed at last. “How could they have decoyed him down there? The Embankment is not on the direct line to the station. The bridge, no doubt, was too crowded, even on such a night, for their purpose. Well, Watson, we shall see who will win in the long run. I am going out now! ”
“To the police? ”
“No; I shall be my own police. When I have spun the web they may take the flies, but not before.”
All day I was engaged in my professional work, and it was late in the evening before I returned to Baker Street. Sherlock Holmes had not come back yet. It was nearly ten o’clock before he entered, looking pale and worn. He walked up to the sideboard, and tearing a piece from the loaf he devoured it voraciously, washing it down with a long draught of water.
“You are hungry, ” I remarked.
“Starving. It had escaped my memory. I have had nothing since breakfast.”
“Nothing? ”
“Not a bite. I had no time to think of it.”
“And how have you succeeded? ”
“Well.”
“You have a clue? ”
“I have them in the hollow of my hand. Young Openshaw shall not long remain unavenged. Why, Watson, let us put their own devilish trade-mark upon them. It is well thought of! ”
“What do you mean? ”
He took an orange from the cupboard, and tearing it to pieces he squeezed out the pips upon the table. Of these he took five and thrust them into an envelope. On the inside of the flap he wrote “S. H. for J. O.” Then he sealed it and addressed it to “Captain James Calhoun, Barque _Lone Star_, Savannah, Georgia.”
“That will await him when he enters port, ” said he, chuckling. “It may give him a sleepless night. He will find it as sure a precursor of his fate as Openshaw did before him.”
“And who is this Captain Calhoun? ”
“The leader of the gang. I shall have the others, but he first.”
“How did you trace it, then? ”
He took a large sheet of paper from his pocket, all covered with dates and names.
“I have spent the whole day, ” said he, “over Lloyd’s registers and files of the old papers, following the future career of every vessel which touched at Pondicherry in January and February in ’83. There were thirty-six ships of fair tonnage which were reported there during those months. Of these, one, the _Lone Star_, instantly attracted my attention, since, although it was reported as having cleared from London, the name is that which is given to one of the states of the Union.”
“Texas, I think.”
“I was not and am not sure which; but I knew that the ship must have an American origin.”
“What then? ”
“I searched the Dundee records, and when I found that the barque _Lone Star_ was there in January, ’85, my suspicion became a certainty. I then inquired as to the vessels which lay at present in the port of London.”
“Yes? ”
“The _Lone Star_ had arrived here last week. I went down to the Albert Dock and found that she had been taken down the river by the early tide this morning, homeward bound to Savannah. I wired to Gravesend and learned that she had passed some time ago, and as the wind is easterly I have no doubt that she is now past the Goodwins and not very far from the Isle of Wight.”
“What will you do, then? ”
“Oh, I have my hand upon him. He and the two mates, are as I learn, the only native-born Americans in the ship. The others are Finns and Germans. I know, also, that they were all three away from the ship last night. I had it from the stevedore who has been loading their cargo. By the time that their sailing-ship reaches Savannah the mail-boat will have carried this letter, and the cable will have informed the police of Savannah that these three gentlemen are badly wanted here upon a charge of murder.”
There is ever a flaw, however, in the best laid of human plans, and the murderers of John Openshaw were never to receive the orange pips which would show them that another, as cunning and as resolute as themselves, was upon their track. Very long and very severe were the equinoctial gales that year. We waited long for news of the _Lone Star_ of Savannah, but none ever reached us. We did at last hear that somewhere far out in the Atlantic a shattered stern-post of a boat was seen swinging in the trough of a wave, with the letters “L. S.” carved upon it, and that is all which we shall ever know of the fate of the _Lone Star_.
VI. 嘴唇扭曲的人
Isa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whitney, D.D., Principal of the Theological College of St. George’s, was much addicted to opium. The habit grew upon him, as I understand, from some foolish freak when he was at college; for having read De Quincey’s description of his dreams and sensations, he had drenched his tobacco with laudanum in an attempt to produce the same effects. He found, as so many more have done, that the practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, and for many years he continued to be a slave to the drug, an object of mingled horror and pity to his friends and relatives. I can see him now, with yellow, pasty face, drooping lids, and pin-point pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble man.
One night—it was in June, ’89—there came a ring to my bell, about the hour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the clock. I sat up in my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work down in her lap and made a little face of disappointment.
“A patient! ” said she. “You’ll have to go out.”
I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day.
We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in some dark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room.
“You will excuse my calling so late, ” she began, and then, suddenly losing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms about my wife’s neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. “Oh, I’m in such trouble! ” she cried; “I do so want a little help.”
“Why, ” said my wife, pulling up her veil, “it is Kate Whitney. How you startled me, Kate! I had not an idea who you were when you came in.”
“I didn’t know what to do, so I came straight to you.” That was always the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds to a lighthouse.
“It was very sweet of you to come. Now, you must have some wine and water, and sit here comfortably and tell us all about it. Or should you rather that I sent James off to bed? ”
“Oh, no, no! I want the doctor’s advice and help, too. It’s about Isa. He has not been home for two days. I am so frightened about him! ”
It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her husband’s trouble, to me as a doctor, to my wife as an old friend and school companion. We soothed and comforted her by such words as we could find. Did she know where her husband was? Was it possible that we could bring him back to her?
It seems that it was. She had the surest information that of late he had, when the fit was on him, made use of an opium den in the farthest east of the City. Hitherto his orgies had always been confined to one day, and he had come back, twitching and shattered, in the evening. But now the spell had been upon him eight-and-forty hours, and he lay there, doubtless among the dregs of the docks, breathing in the poison or sleeping off the effects. There he was to be found, she was sure of it, at the Bar of Gold, in Upper Swandam Lane. But what was she to do? How could she, a young and timid woman, make her way into such a place and pluck her husband out from among the ruffians who surrounded him?
There was the case, and of course there was but one way out of it. Might I not escort her to this place? And then, as a second thought, why should she come at all? I was Isa Whitney’s medical adviser, and as such I had influence over him. I could manage it better if I were alone. I promised her on my word that I would send him home in a cab within two hours if he were indeed at the address which she had given me. And so in ten minutes I had left my armchair and cheery sitting-room behind me, and was speeding eastward in a hansom on a strange errand, as it seemed to me at the time, though the future only could show how strange it was to be.
But there was no great difficulty in the first stage of my adventure. Upper Swandam Lane is a vile alley lurking behind the high wharves which line the north side of the river to the east of London Bridge. Between a slop-shop and a gin-shop, approached by a steep flight of steps leading down to a black gap like the mouth of a cave, I found the den of which I was in search. Ordering my cab to wait, I passed down the steps, worn hollow in the centre by the ceaseless tread of drunken feet; and by the light of a flickering oil-lamp above the door I found the latch and made my way into a long, low room, thick and heavy with the brown opium smoke, and terraced with wooden berths, like the forecastle of an emigrant ship.
Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying in strange fantastic poses, bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads thrown back, and chins pointing upward, with here and there a dark, lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black shadows there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright, now faint, as the burning poison waxed or waned in the bowls of the metal pipes. The most lay silent, but some muttered to themselves, and others talked together in a strange, low, monotonous voice, their conversation coming in gushes, and then suddenly tailing off into silence, each mumbling out his own thoughts and paying little heed to the words of his neighbour. At the farther end was a small brazier of burning charcoal, beside which on a three-legged wooden stool there sat a tall, thin old man, with his jaw resting upon his two fists, and his elbows upon his knees, staring into the fire.
As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe for me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty berth.
“Thank you. I have not come to stay, ” said I. “There is a friend of mine here, Mr. Isa Whitney, and I wish to speak with him.”
There was a movement and an exclamation from my right, and peering through the gloom, I saw Whitney, pale, haggard, and unkempt, staring out at me.
“My God! It’s Watson, ” said he. He was in a pitiable state of reaction, with every nerve in a twitter. “I say, Watson, what o’clock is it? ”
“Nearly eleven.”
“Of what day? ”
“Of Friday, June 19th.”
“Good heavens! I thought it was Wednesday. It is Wednesday. What d’you want to frighten a chap for? ” He sank his face onto his arms and began to sob in a high treble key.
“I tell you that it is Friday, man. Your wife has been waiting this two days for you. You should be ashamed of yourself! ”
“So I am. But you’ve got mixed, Watson, for I have only been here a few hours, three pipes, four pipes—I forget how many. But I’ll go home with you. I wouldn’t frighten Kate—poor little Kate. Give me your hand! Have you a cab? ”
“Yes, I have one waiting.”
“Then I shall go in it. But I must owe something. Find what I owe, Watson. I am all off colour. I can do nothing for myself.”
I walked down the narrow passage between the double row of sleepers, holding my breath to keep out the vile, stupefying fumes of the drug, and looking about for the manager. As I passed the tall man who sat by the brazier I felt a sudden pluck at my skirt, and a low voice whispered, “Walk past me, and then look back at me.” The words fell quite distinctly upon my ear. I glanced down. They could only have come from the old man at my side, and yet he sat now as absorbed as ever, very thin, very wrinkled, bent with age, an opium pipe dangling down from between his knees, as though it had dropped in sheer lassitude from his fingers. I took two steps forward and looked back. It took all my self-control to prevent me from breaking out into a cry of astonishment. He had turned his back so that none could see him but I. His form had filled out, his wrinkles were gone, the dull eyes had regained their fire, and there, sitting by the fire and grinning at my surprise, was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He made a slight motion to me to approach him, and instantly, as he turned his face half round to the company once more, subsided into a doddering, loose-lipped senility.
“Holmes! ” I whispered, “what on earth are you doing in this den? ”
“As low as you can, ” he answered; “I have excellent ears. If you would have the great kindness to get rid of that sottish friend of yours I should be exceedingly glad to have a little talk with you.”
“I have a cab outside.”
“Then pray send him home in it. You may safely trust him, for he appears to be too limp to get into any mischief. I should recommend you also to send a note by the cabman to your wife to say that you have thrown in your lot with me. If you will wait outside, I shall be with you in five minutes.”
It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes’ requests, for they were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward with such a quiet air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney was once confined in the cab my mission was practically accomplished; and for the rest, I could not wish anything better than to be associated with my friend in one of those singular adventures which were the normal condition of his existence. In a few minutes I had written my note, paid Whitney’s bill, led him out to the cab, and seen him driven through the darkness. In a very short time a decrepit figure had emerged from the opium den, and I was walking down the street with Sherlock Holmes. For two streets he shuffled along with a bent back and an uncertain foot. Then, glancing quickly round, he straightened himself out and burst into a hearty fit of laughter.
“I suppose, Watson, ” said he, “that you imagine that I have added opium-smoking to cocaine injections, and all the other little weaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medical views.”
“I was certainly surprised to find you there.”
“But not more so than I to find you.”
“I came to find a friend.”
“And I to find an enemy.”
“An enemy? ”
“Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural prey. Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable inquiry, and I have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent ramblings of these sots, as I have done before now. Had I been recognised in that den my life would not have been worth an hour’s purchase; for I have used it before now for my own purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to have vengeance upon me. There is a trap-door at the back of that building, near the corner of Paul’s Wharf, which could tell some strange tales of what has passed through it upon the moonless nights.”
“What! You do not mean bodies? ”
“Ay, bodies, Watson. We should be rich men if we had £ 1000 for every poor devil who has been done to death in that den. It is the vilest murder-trap on the whole riverside, and I fear that Neville St. Clair has entered it never to leave it more. But our trap should be here.” He put his two forefingers between his teeth and whistled shrilly—a signal which was answered by a similar whistle from the distance, followed shortly by the rattle of wheels and the clink of horses’ hoofs.
“Now, Watson, ” said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed up through the gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellow light from its side lanterns. “You’ll come with me, won’t you? ”
“If I can be of use.”
“Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chronicler still more so. My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one.”
“The Cedars? ”
“Yes; that is Mr. St. Clair’s house. I am staying there while I conduct the inquiry.”
“Where is it, then? ”
“Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive before us.”
“But I am all in the dark.”
“Of course you are. You’ll know all about it presently. Jump up here. All right, John; we shall not need you. Here’s half a crown. Look out for me to-morrow, about eleven. Give her her head. So long, then! ”
He flicked the horse with his whip, and we dashed away through the endless succession of sombre and deserted streets, which widened gradually, until we were flying across a broad balustraded bridge, with the murky river flowing sluggishly beneath us. Beyond lay another dull wilderness of bricks and mortar, its silence broken only by the heavy, regular footfall of the policeman, or the songs and shouts of some belated party of revellers. A dull wrack was drifting slowly across the sky, and a star or two twinkled dimly here and there through the rifts of the clouds. Holmes drove in silence, with his head sunk upon his breast, and the air of a man who is lost in thought, while I sat beside him, curious to learn what this new quest might be which seemed to tax his powers so sorely, and yet afraid to break in upon the current of his thoughts. We had driven several miles, and were beginning to get to the fringe of the belt of suburban villas, when he shook himself, shrugged his shoulders, and lit up his pipe with the air of a man who has satisfied himself that he is acting for the best.
“You have a grand gift of silence, Watson, ” said he. “It makes you quite invaluable as a companion. ’Pon my word, it is a great thing for me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts are not over-pleasant. I was wondering what I should say to this dear little woman to-night when she meets me at the door.”
“You forget that I know nothing about it.”
“I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before we get to Lee. It seems absurdly simple, and yet, somehow I can get nothing to go upon. There’s plenty of thread, no doubt, but I can’t get the end of it into my hand. Now, I’ll state the case clearly and concisely to you, Watson, and maybe you can see a spark where all is dark to me.”
“Proceed, then.”
“Some years ago—to be definite, in May, 1884—there came to Lee a gentleman, Neville St. Clair by name, who appeared to have plenty of money. He took a large villa, laid out the grounds very nicely, and lived generally in good style. By degrees he made friends in the neighbourhood, and in 1887 he married the daughter of a local brewer, by whom he now has two children. He had no occupation, but was interested in several companies and went into town as a rule in the morning, returning by the 5:14 from Cannon Street every night. Mr. St. Clair is now thirty-seven years of age, is a man of temperate habits, a good husband, a very affectionate father, and a man who is popular with all who know him. I may add that his whole debts at the present moment, as far as we have been able to ascertain, amount to £ 88 10_s_., while he has £ 220 standing to his credit in the Capital and Counties Bank. There is no reason, therefore, to think that money troubles have been weighing upon his mind.
“Last Monday Mr. Neville St. Clair went into town rather earlier than usual, remarking before he started that he had two important commissions to perform, and that he would bring his little boy home a box of bricks. Now, by the merest chance, his wife received a telegram upon this same Monday, very shortly after his departure, to the effect that a small parcel of considerable value which she had been expecting was waiting for her at the offices of the Aberdeen Shipping Company. Now, if you are well up in your London, you will know that the office of the company is in Fresno Street, which branches out of Upper Swandam Lane, where you found me to-night. Mrs. St. Clair had her lunch, started for the City, did some shopping, proceeded to the company’s office, got her packet, and found herself at exactly 4:35 walking through Swandam Lane on her way back to the station. Have you followed me so far? ”
“It is very clear.”
“If you remember, Monday was an exceedingly hot day, and Mrs. St. Clair walked slowly, glancing about in the hope of seeing a cab, as she did not like the neighbourhood in which she found herself. While she was walking in this way down Swandam Lane, she suddenly heard an ejaculation or cry, and was struck cold to see her husband looking down at her and, as it seemed to her, beckoning to her from a second-floor window. The window was open, and she distinctly saw his face, which she describes as being terribly agitated. He waved his hands frantically to her, and then vanished from the window so suddenly that it seemed to her that he had been plucked back by some irresistible force from behind. One singular point which struck her quick feminine eye was that although he wore some dark coat, such as he had started to town in, he had on neither collar nor necktie.
“Convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the steps—for the house was none other than the opium den in which you found me to-night—and running through the front room she attempted to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. At the foot of the stairs, however, she met this Lascar scoundrel of whom I have spoken, who thrust her back and, aided by a Dane, who acts as assistant there, pushed her out into the street. Filled with the most maddening doubts and fears, she rushed down the lane and, by rare good-fortune, met in Fresno Street a number of constables with an inspector, all on their way to their beat. The inspector and two men accompanied her back, and in spite of the continued resistance of the proprietor, they made their way to the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been seen. There was no sign of him there. In fact, in the whole of that floor there was no one to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous aspect, who, it seems, made his home there. Both he and the Lascar stoutly swore that no one else had been in the front room during the afternoon. So determined was their denial that the inspector was staggered, and had almost come to believe that Mrs. St. Clair had been deluded when, with a cry, she sprang at a small deal box which lay upon the table and tore the lid from it. Out there fell a cascade of children’s bricks. It was the toy which he had promised to bring home.
“This discovery, and the evident confusion which the cripple showed, made the inspector realise that the matter was serious. The rooms were carefully examined, and results all pointed to an abominable crime. The front room was plainly furnished as a sitting-room and led into a small bedroom, which looked out upon the back of one of the wharves. Between the wharf and the bedroom window is a narrow strip, which is dry at low tide but is covered at high tide with at least four and a half feet of water. The bedroom window was a broad one and opened from below. On examination traces of blood were to be seen upon the windowsill, and several scattered drops were visible upon the wooden floor of the bedroom. Thrust away behind a curtain in the front room were all the clothes of Mr. Neville St. Clair, with the exception of his coat. His boots, his socks, his hat, and his watch—all were there. There were no signs of violence upon any of these garments, and there were no other traces of Mr. Neville St. Clair. Out of the window he must apparently have gone for no other exit could be discovered, and the ominous bloodstains upon the sill gave little promise that he could save himself by swimming, for the tide was at its very highest at the moment of the tragedy.
“And now as to the villains who seemed to be immediately implicated in the matter. The Lascar was known to be a man of the vilest antecedents, but as, by Mrs. St. Clair’s story, he was known to have been at the foot of the stair within a very few seconds of her husband’s appearance at the window, he could hardly have been more than an accessory to the crime. His defence was one of absolute ignorance, and he protested that he had no knowledge as to the doings of Hugh Boone, his lodger, and that he could not account in any way for the presence of the missing gentleman’s clothes.
“So much for the Lascar manager. Now for the sinister cripple who lives upon the second floor of the opium den, and who was certainly the last human being whose eyes rested upon Neville St. Clair. His name is Hugh Boone, and his hideous face is one which is familiar to every man who goes much to the City. He is a professional beggar, though in order to avoid the police regulations he pretends to a small trade in wax vestas. Some little distance down Threadneedle Street, upon the left-hand side, there is, as you may have remarked, a small angle in the wall. Here it is that this creature takes his daily seat, cross-legged with his tiny stock of matches on his lap, and as he is a piteous spectacle a small rain of charity descends into the greasy leather cap which lies upon the pavement beside him. I have watched the fellow more than once before ever I thought of making his professional acquaintance, and I have been surprised at the harvest which he has reaped in a short time. His appearance, you see, is so remarkable that no one can pass him without observing him. A shock of orange hair, a pale face disfigured by a horrible scar, which, by its contraction, has turned up the outer edge of his upper lip, a bulldog chin, and a pair of very penetrating dark eyes, which present a singular contrast to the colour of his hair, all mark him out from amid the common crowd of mendicants and so, too, does his wit, for he is ever ready with a reply to any piece of chaff which may be thrown at him by the passers-by. This is the man whom we now learn to have been the lodger at the opium den, and to have been the last man to see the gentleman of whom we are in quest.”
“But a cripple! ” said I. “What could he have done single-handed against a man in the prime of life? ”
“He is a cripple in the sense that he walks with a limp; but in other respects he appears to be a powerful and well-nurtured man. Surely your medical experience would tell you, Watson, that weakness in one limb is often compensated for by exceptional strength in the others.”
“Pray continue your narrative.”
“Mrs. St. Clair had fainted at the sight of the blood upon the window, and she was escorted home in a cab by the police, as her presence could be of no help to them in their investigations. Inspector Barton, who had charge of the case, made a very careful examination of the premises, but without finding anything which threw any light upon the matter. One mistake had been made in not arresting Boone instantly, as he was allowed some few minutes during which he might have communicated with his friend the Lascar, but this fault was soon remedied, and he was seized and searched, without anything being found which could incriminate him. There were, it is true, some blood-stains upon his right shirt-sleeve, but he pointed to his ring-finger, which had been cut near the nail, and explained that the bleeding came from there, adding that he had been to the window not long before, and that the stains which had been observed there came doubtless from the same source. He denied strenuously having ever seen Mr. Neville St. Clair and swore that the presence of the clothes in his room was as much a mystery to him as to the police. As to Mrs. St. Clair’s assertion that she had actually seen her husband at the window, he declared that she must have been either mad or dreaming. He was removed, loudly protesting, to the police-station, while the inspector remained upon the premises in the hope that the ebbing tide might afford some fresh clue.
“And it did, though they hardly found upon the mud-bank what they had feared to find. It was Neville St. Clair’s coat, and not Neville St. Clair, which lay uncovered as the tide receded. And what do you think they found in the pockets? ”
“I cannot imagine.”
“No, I don’t think you would guess. Every pocket stuffed with pennies and half-pennies—421 pennies and 270 half-pennies. It was no wonder that it had not been swept away by the tide. But a human body is a different matter. There is a fierce eddy between the wharf and the house. It seemed likely enough that the weighted coat had remained when the stripped body had been sucked away into the river.”
“But I understand that all the other clothes were found in the room. Would the body be dressed in a coat alone? ”
“No, sir, but the facts might be met speciously enough. Suppose that this man Boone had thrust Neville St. Clair through the window, there is no human eye which could have seen the deed. What would he do then? It would of course instantly strike him that he must get rid of the tell-tale garments. He would seize the coat, then, and be in the act of throwing it out, when it would occur to him that it would swim and not sink. He has little time, for he has heard the scuffle downstairs when the wife tried to force her way up, and perhaps he has already heard from his Lascar confederate that the police are hurrying up the street. There is not an instant to be lost. He rushes to some secret hoard, where he has accumulated the fruits of his beggary, and he stuffs all the coins upon which he can lay his hands into the pockets to make sure of the coat’s sinking. He throws it out, and would have done the same with the other garments had not he heard the rush of steps below, and only just had time to close the window when the police appeared.”
“It certainly sounds feasible.”
“Well, we will take it as a working hypothesis for want of a better. Boone, as I have told you, was arrested and taken to the station, but it could not be shown that there had ever before been anything against him. He had for years been known as a professional beggar, but his life appeared to have been a very quiet and innocent one. There the matter stands at present, and the questions which have to be solved—what Neville St. Clair was doing in the opium den, what happened to him when there, where is he now, and what Hugh Boone had to do with his disappearance—are all as far from a solution as ever. I confess that I cannot recall any case within my experience which looked at the first glance so simple and yet which presented such difficulties.”
While Sherlock Holmes had been detailing this singular series of events, we had been whirling through the outskirts of the great town until the last straggling houses had been left behind, and we rattled along with a country hedge upon either side of us. Just as he finished, however, we drove through two scattered villages, where a few lights still glimmered in the windows.
“We are on the outskirts of Lee, ” said my companion. “We have touched on three English counties in our short drive, starting in Middlesex, passing over an angle of Surrey, and ending in Kent. See that light among the trees? That is The Cedars, and beside that lamp sits a woman whose anxious ears have already, I have little doubt, caught the clink of our horse’s feet.”
“But why are you not conducting the case from Baker Street? ” I asked.
“Because there are many inquiries which must be made out here. Mrs. St. Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal, and you may rest assured that she will have nothing but a welcome for my friend and colleague. I hate to meet her, Watson, when I have no news of her husband. Here we are. Whoa, there, whoa! ”
We had pulled up in front of a large villa which stood within its own grounds. A stable-boy had run out to the horse’s head, and springing down, I followed Holmes up the small, winding gravel-drive which led to the house. As we approached, the door flew open, and a little blonde woman stood in the opening, clad in some sort of light mousseline de soie, with a touch of fluffy pink chiffon at her neck and wrists. She stood with her figure outlined against the flood of light, one hand upon the door, one half-raised in her eagerness, her body slightly bent, her head and face protruded, with eager eyes and parted lips, a standing question.
“Well? ” she cried, “well? ” And then, seeing that there were two of us, she gave a cry of hope which sank into a groan as she saw that my companion shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.
“No good news? ”
“None.”
“No bad? ”
“No.”
“Thank God for that. But come in. You must be weary, for you have had a long day.”
“This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has been of most vital use to me in several of my cases, and a lucky chance has made it possible for me to bring him out and associate him with this investigation.”
“I am delighted to see you, ” said she, pressing my hand warmly. “You will, I am sure, forgive anything that may be wanting in our arrangements, when you consider the blow which has come so suddenly upon us.”
“My dear madam, ” said I, “I am an old campaigner, and if I were not I can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of any assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be indeed happy.”
“Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, ” said the lady as we entered a well-lit dining-room, upon the table of which a cold supper had been laid out, “I should very much like to ask you one or two plain questions, to which I beg that you will give a plain answer.”
“Certainly, madam.”
“Do not trouble about my feelings. I am not hysterical, nor given to fainting. I simply wish to hear your real, real opinion.”
“Upon what point? ”
“In your heart of hearts, do you think that Neville is alive? ”
Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by the question. “Frankly, now! ” she repeated, standing upon the rug and looking keenly down at him as he leaned back in a basket-chair.
“Frankly, then, madam, I do not.”
“You think that he is dead? ”
“I do.”
“Murdered? ”
“I don’t say that. Perhaps.”
“And on what day did he meet his death? ”
“On Monday.”
“Then perhaps, Mr. Holmes, you will be good enough to explain how it is that I have received a letter from him to-day.”
Sherlock Holmes sprang out of his chair as if he had been galvanised.
“What! ” he roared.
“Yes, to-day.” She stood smiling, holding up a little slip of paper in the air.
“May I see it? ”
“Certainly.”
He snatched it from her in his eagerness, and smoothing it out upon the table he drew over the lamp and examined it intently. I had left my chair and was gazing at it over his shoulder. The envelope was a very coarse one and was stamped with the Gravesend postmark and with the date of that very day, or rather of the day before, for it was considerably after midnight.
“Coarse writing, ” murmured Holmes. “Surely this is not your husband’s writing, madam.”
“No, but the enclosure is.”
“I perceive also that whoever addressed the envelope had to go and inquire as to the address.”
“How can you tell that? ”
“The name, you see, is in perfectly black ink, which has dried itself. The rest is of the greyish colour, which shows that blotting-paper has been used. If it had been written straight off, and then blotted, none would be of a deep black shade. This man has written the name, and there has then been a pause before he wrote the address, which can only mean that he was not familiar with it. It is, of course, a trifle, but there is nothing so important as trifles. Let us now see the letter. Ha! there has been an enclosure here! ”
“Yes, there was a ring. His signet-ring.”
“And you are sure that this is your husband’s hand? ”
“One of his hands.”
“One? ”
“His hand when he wrote hurriedly. It is very unlike his usual writing, and yet I know it well.”
“‘Dearest do not be frightened. All will come well. There is a huge error which it may take some little time to rectify. Wait in patience.—NEVILLE.’ Written in pencil upon the fly-leaf of a book, octavo size, no water-mark. Hum! Posted to-day in Gravesend by a man with a dirty thumb. Ha! And the flap has been gummed, if I am not very much in error, by a person who had been chewing tobacco. And you have no doubt that it is your husband’s hand, madam? ”
“None. Neville wrote those words.”
“And they were posted to-day at Gravesend. Well, Mrs. St. Clair, the clouds lighten, though I should not venture to say that the danger is over.”
“But he must be alive, Mr. Holmes.”
“Unless this is a clever forgery to put us on the wrong scent. The ring, after all, proves nothing. It may have been taken from him.”
“No, no; it is, it is his very own writing! ”
“Very well. It may, however, have been written on Monday and only posted to-day.”
“That is possible.”
“If so, much may have happened between.”
“Oh, you must not discourage me, Mr. Holmes. I know that all is well with him. There is so keen a sympathy between us that I should know if evil came upon him. On the very day that I saw him last he cut himself in the bedroom, and yet I in the dining-room rushed upstairs instantly with the utmost certainty that something had happened. Do you think that I would respond to such a trifle and yet be ignorant of his death? ”
“I have seen too much not to know that the impression of a woman may be more valuable than the conclusion of an analytical reasoner. And in this letter you certainly have a very strong piece of evidence to corroborate your view. But if your husband is alive and able to write letters, why should he remain away from you? ”
“I cannot imagine. It is unthinkable.”
“And on Monday he made no remarks before leaving you? ”
“No.”
“And you were surprised to see him in Swandam Lane? ”
“Very much so.”
“Was the window open? ”
“Yes.”
“Then he might have called to you? ”
“He might.”
“He only, as I understand, gave an inarticulate cry? ”
“Yes.”
“A call for help, you thought? ”
“Yes. He waved his hands.”
“But it might have been a cry of surprise. Astonishment at the unexpected sight of you might cause him to throw up his hands? ”
“It is possible.”
“And you thought he was pulled back? ”
“He disappeared so suddenly.”
“He might have leaped back. You did not see anyone else in the room? ”
“No, but this horrible man confessed to having been there, and the Lascar was at the foot of the stairs.”
“Quite so. Your husband, as far as you could see, had his ordinary clothes on? ”
“But without his collar or tie. I distinctly saw his bare throat.”
“Had he ever spoken of Swandam Lane? ”
“Never.”
“Had he ever showed any signs of having taken opium? ”
“Never.”
“Thank you, Mrs. St. Clair. Those are the principal points about which I wished to be absolutely clear. We shall now have a little supper and then retire, for we may have a very busy day to-morrow.”
A large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our disposal, and I was quickly between the sheets, for I was weary after my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however, who, when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind, would go for days, and even for a week, without rest, turning it over, rearranging his facts, looking at it from every point of view until he had either fathomed it or convinced himself that his data were insufficient. It was soon evident to me that he was now preparing for an all-night sitting. He took off his coat and waistcoat, put on a large blue dressing-gown, and then wandered about the room collecting pillows from his bed and cushions from the sofa and armchairs. With these he constructed a sort of Eastern divan, upon which he perched himself cross-legged, with an ounce of shag tobacco and a box of matches laid out in front of him. In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an old briar pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him, silent, motionless, with the light shining upon his strong-set aquiline features. So he sat as I dropped off to sleep, and so he sat when a sudden ejaculation caused me to wake up, and I found the summer sun shining into the apartment. The pipe was still between his lips, the smoke still curled upward, and the room was full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap of shag which I had seen upon the previous night.
“Awake, Watson? ” he asked.
“Yes.”
“Game for a morning drive? ”
“Certainly.”
“Then dress. No one is stirring yet, but I know where the stable-boy sleeps, and we shall soon have the trap out.” He chuckled to himself as he spoke, his eyes twinkled, and he seemed a different man to the sombre thinker of the previous night.
As I dressed I glanced at my watch. It was no wonder that no one was stirring. It was twenty-five minutes past four. I had hardly finished when Holmes returned with the news that the boy was putting in the horse.
“I want to test a little theory of mine, ” said he, pulling on his boots. “I think, Watson, that you are now standing in the presence of one of the most absolute fools in Europe. I deserve to be kicked from here to Charing Cross. But I think I have the key of the affair now.”
“And where is it? ” I asked, smiling.
“In the bathroom, ” he answered. “Oh, yes, I am not joking, ” he continued, seeing my look of incredulity. “I have just been there, and I have taken it out, and I have got it in this Gladstone bag. Come on, my boy, and we shall see whether it will not fit the lock.”
We made our way downstairs as quietly as possible, and out into the bright morning sunshine. In the road stood our horse and trap, with the half-clad stable-boy waiting at the head. We both sprang in, and away we dashed down the London Road. A few country carts were stirring, bearing in vegetables to the metropolis, but the lines of villas on either side were as silent and lifeless as some city in a dream.
“It has been in some points a singular case, ” said Holmes, flicking the horse on into a gallop. “I confess that I have been as blind as a mole, but it is better to learn wisdom late than never to learn it at all.”
In town the earliest risers were just beginning to look sleepily from their windows as we drove through the streets of the Surrey side. Passing down the Waterloo Bridge Road we crossed over the river, and dashing up Wellington Street wheeled sharply to the right and found ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well known to the force, and the two constables at the door saluted him. One of them held the horse’s head while the other led us in.
“Who is on duty? ” asked Holmes.
“Inspector Bradstreet, sir.”
“Ah, Bradstreet, how are you? ” A tall, stout official had come down the stone-flagged passage, in a peaked cap and frogged jacket. “I wish to have a quiet word with you, Bradstreet.”
“Certainly, Mr. Holmes. Step into my room here.”
It was a small, office-like room, with a huge ledger upon the table, and a telephone projecting from the wall. The inspector sat down at his desk.
“What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes? ”
“I called about that beggarman, Boone—the one who was charged with being concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Neville St. Clair, of Lee.”
“Yes. He was brought up and remanded for further inquiries.”
“So I heard. You have him here? ”
“In the cells.”
“Is he quiet? ”
“Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel.”
“Dirty? ”
“Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his face is as black as a tinker’s. Well, when once his case has been settled, he will have a regular prison bath; and I think, if you saw him, you would agree with me that he needed it.”
“I should like to see him very much.”
“Would you? That is easily done. Come this way. You can leave your bag.”
“No, I think that I’ll take it.”
“Very good. Come this way, if you please.” He led us down a passage, opened a barred door, passed down a winding stair, and brought us to a whitewashed corridor with a line of doors on each side.
“The third on the right is his, ” said the inspector. “Here it is! ” He quietly shot back a panel in the upper part of the door and glanced through.
“He is asleep, ” said he. “You can see him very well.”
We both put our eyes to the grating. The prisoner lay with his face towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and heavily. He was a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his calling, with a coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his tattered coat. He was, as the inspector had said, extremely dirty, but the grime which covered his face could not conceal its repulsive ugliness. A broad wheal from an old scar ran right across it from eye to chin, and by its contraction had turned up one side of the upper lip, so that three teeth were exposed in a perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright red hair grew low over his eyes and forehead.
“He’s a beauty, isn’t he? ” said the inspector.
“He certainly needs a wash, ” remarked Holmes. “I had an idea that he might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me.” He opened the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my astonishment, a very large bath-sponge.
“He! he! You are a funny one, ” chuckled the inspector.
“Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable figure.”
“Well, I don’t know why not, ” said the inspector. “He doesn’t look a credit to the Bow Street cells, does he? ” He slipped his key into the lock, and we all very quietly entered the cell. The sleeper half turned, and then settled down once more into a deep slumber. Holmes stooped to the water-jug, moistened his sponge, and then rubbed it twice vigorously across and down the prisoner’s face.
“Let me introduce you, ” he shouted, “to Mr. Neville St. Clair, of Lee, in the county of Kent.”
Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man’s face peeled off under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the coarse brown tint! Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had seamed it across, and the twisted lip which had given the repulsive sneer to the face! A twitch brought away the tangled red hair, and there, sitting up in his bed, was a pale, sad-faced, refined-looking man, black-haired and smooth-skinned, rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy bewilderment. Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a scream and threw himself down with his face to the pillow.
“Great heavens! ” cried the inspector, “it is, indeed, the missing man. I know him from the photograph.”
The prisoner turned with the reckless air of a man who abandons himself to his destiny. “Be it so, ” said he. “And pray what am I charged with? ”
“With making away with Mr. Neville St.— Oh, come, you can’t be charged with that unless they make a case of attempted suicide of it, ” said the inspector with a grin. “Well, I have been twenty-seven years in the force, but this really takes the cake.”
“If I am Mr. Neville St. Clair, then it is obvious that no crime has been committed, and that, therefore, I am illegally detained.”
“No crime, but a very great error has been committed, ” said Holmes. “You would have done better to have trusted your wife.”
“It was not the wife; it was the children, ” groaned the prisoner. “God help me, I would not have them ashamed of their father. My God! What an exposure! What can I do? ”
Sherlock Holmes sat down beside him on the couch and patted him kindly on the shoulder.
“If you leave it to a court of law to clear the matter up, ” said he, “of course you can hardly avoid publicity. On the other hand, if you convince the police authorities that there is no possible case against you, I do not know that there is any reason that the details should find their way into the papers. Inspector Bradstreet would, I am sure, make notes upon anything which you might tell us and submit it to the proper authorities. The case would then never go into court at all.”
“God bless you! ” cried the prisoner passionately. “I would have endured imprisonment, ay, even execution, rather than have left my miserable secret as a family blot to my children.
“You are the first who have ever heard my story. My father was a schoolmaster in Chesterfield, where I received an excellent education. I travelled in my youth, took to the stage, and finally became a reporter on an evening paper in London. One day my editor wished to have a series of articles upon begging in the metropolis, and I volunteered to supply them. There was the point from which all my adventures started. It was only by trying begging as an amateur that I could get the facts upon which to base my articles. When an actor I had, of course, learned all the secrets of making up, and had been famous in the green-room for my skill. I took advantage now of my attainments. I painted my face, and to make myself as pitiable as possible I made a good scar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist by the aid of a small slip of flesh-coloured plaster. Then with a red head of hair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the business part of the city, ostensibly as a match-seller but really as a beggar. For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I returned home in the evening I found to my surprise that I had received no less than 26_s_. 4_d_.
“I wrote my articles and thought little more of the matter until, some time later, I backed a bill for a friend and had a writ served upon me for £ 25. I was at my wit’s end where to get the money, but a sudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight’s grace from the creditor, asked for a holiday from my employers, and spent the time in begging in the City under my disguise. In ten days I had the money and had paid the debt.
“Well, you can imagine how hard it was to settle down to arduous work at £ 2 a week when I knew that I could earn as much in a day by smearing my face with a little paint, laying my cap on the ground, and sitting still. It was a long fight between my pride and the money, but the dollars won at last, and I threw up reporting and sat day after day in the corner which I had first chosen, inspiring pity by my ghastly face and filling my pockets with coppers. Only one man knew my secret. He was the keeper of a low den in which I used to lodge in Swandam Lane, where I could every morning emerge as a squalid beggar and in the evenings transform myself into a well-dressed man about town. This fellow, a Lascar, was well paid by me for his rooms, so that I knew that my secret was safe in his possession.
“Well, very soon I found that I was saving considerable sums of money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London could earn £ 700 a year—which is less than my average takings—but I had exceptional advantages in my power of making up, and also in a facility of repartee, which improved by practice and made me quite a recognised character in the City. All day a stream of pennies, varied by silver, poured in upon me, and it was a very bad day in which I failed to take £ 2.
“As I grew richer I grew more ambitious, took a house in the country, and eventually married, without anyone having a suspicion as to my real occupation. My dear wife knew that I had business in the City. She little knew what.
“Last Monday I had finished for the day and was dressing in my room above the opium den when I looked out of my window and saw, to my horror and astonishment, that my wife was standing in the street, with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of surprise, threw up my arms to cover my face, and, rushing to my confidant, the Lascar, entreated him to prevent anyone from coming up to me. I heard her voice downstairs, but I knew that she could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off my clothes, pulled on those of a beggar, and put on my pigments and wig. Even a wife’s eyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. But then it occurred to me that there might be a search in the room, and that the clothes might betray me. I threw open the window, reopening by my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself in the bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat, which was weighted by the coppers which I had just transferred to it from the leather bag in which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of the window, and it disappeared into the Thames. The other clothes would have followed, but at that moment there was a rush of constables up the stair, and a few minutes after I found, rather, I confess, to my relief, that instead of being identified as Mr. Neville St. Clair, I was arrested as his murderer.
“I do not know that there is anything else for me to explain. I was determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible, and hence my preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife would be terribly anxious, I slipped off my ring and confided it to the Lascar at a moment when no constable was watching me, together with a hurried scrawl, telling her that she had no cause to fear.”
“That note only reached her yesterday, ” said Holmes.
“Good God! What a week she must have spent! ”
“The police have watched this Lascar, ” said Inspector Bradstreet, “and I can quite understand that he might find it difficult to post a letter unobserved. Probably he handed it to some sailor customer of his, who forgot all about it for some days.”
“That was it, ” said Holmes, nodding approvingly; “I have no doubt of it. But have you never been prosecuted for begging? ”
“Many times; but what was a fine to me? ”
“It must stop here, however, ” said Bradstreet. “If the police are to hush this thing up, there must be no more of Hugh Boone.”
“I have sworn it by the most solemn oaths which a man can take.”
“In that case I think that it is probable that no further steps may be taken. But if you are found again, then all must come out. I am sure, Mr. Holmes, that we are very much indebted to you for having cleared the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach your results.”
“I reached this one, ” said my friend, “by sitting upon five pillows and consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if we drive to Baker Street we shall just be in time for breakfast.”
VII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BLUE CARBUNCLE
I had called upon my friend Sherlock Holmes upon the second morning after Christmas, with the intention of wishing him the compliments of the season. He was lounging upon the sofa in a purple dressing-gown, a pipe-rack within his reach upon the right, and a pile of crumpled morning papers, evidently newly studied, near at hand. Beside the couch was a wooden chair, and on the angle of the back hung a very seedy and disreputable hard-felt hat, much the worse for wear, and cracked in several places. A lens and a forceps lying upon the seat of the chair suggested that the hat had been suspended in this manner for the purpose of examination.
“You are engaged, ” said I; “perhaps I interrupt you.”
“Not at all. I am glad to have a friend with whom I can discuss my results. The matter is a perfectly trivial one”—he jerked his thumb in the direction of the old hat—“but there are points in connection with it which are not entirely devoid of interest and even of instruction.”
I seated myself in his armchair and warmed my hands before his crackling fire, for a sharp frost had set in, and the windows were thick with the ice crystals. “I suppose, ” I remarked, “that, homely as it looks, this thing has some deadly story linked on to it—that it is the clue which will guide you in the solution of some mystery and the punishment of some crime.”
“No, no. No crime, ” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. “Only one of those whimsical little incidents which will happen when you have four million human beings all jostling each other within the space of a few square miles. Amid the action and reaction of so dense a swarm of humanity, every possible combination of events may be expected to take place, and many a little problem will be presented which may be striking and bizarre without being criminal. We have already had experience of such.”
“So much so, ” I remarked, “that of the last six cases which I have added to my notes, three have been entirely free of any legal crime.”
“Precisely. You allude to my attempt to recover the Irene Adler papers, to the singular case of Miss Mary Sutherland, and to the adventure of the man with the twisted lip. Well, I have no doubt that this small matter will fall into the same innocent category. You know Peterson, the commissionaire? ”
“Yes.”
“It is to him that this trophy belongs.”
“It is his hat.”
“No, no, he found it. Its owner is unknown. I beg that you will look upon it not as a battered billycock but as an intellectual problem. And, first, as to how it came here. It arrived upon Christmas morning, in company with a good fat goose, which is, I have no doubt, roasting at this moment in front of Peterson’s fire. The facts are these: about four o’clock on Christmas morning, Peterson, who, as you know, is a very honest fellow, was returning from some small jollification and was making his way homeward down Tottenham Court Road. In front of him he saw, in the gaslight, a tallish man, walking with a slight stagger, and carrying a white goose slung over his shoulder. As he reached the corner of Goodge Street, a row broke out between this stranger and a little knot of roughs. One of the latter knocked off the man’s hat, on which he raised his stick to defend himself and, swinging it over his head, smashed the shop window behind him. Peterson had rushed forward to protect the stranger from his assailants; but the man, shocked at having broken the window, and seeing an official-looking person in uniform rushing towards him, dropped his goose, took to his heels, and vanished amid the labyrinth of small streets which lie at the back of Tottenham Court Road. The roughs had also fled at the appearance of Peterson, so that he was left in possession of the field of battle, and also of the spoils of victory in the shape of this battered hat and a most unimpeachable Christmas goose.”
“Which surely he restored to their owner? ”
“My dear fellow, there lies the problem. It is true that ‘For Mrs. Henry Baker’ was printed upon a small card which was tied to the bird’s left leg, and it is also true that the initials ‘H. B.’ are legible upon the lining of this hat, but as there are some thousands of Bakers, and some hundreds of Henry Bakers in this city of ours, it is not easy to restore lost property to any one of them.”
“What, then, did Peterson do? ”
“He brought round both hat and goose to me on Christmas morning, knowing that even the smallest problems are of interest to me. The goose we retained until this morning, when there were signs that, in spite of the slight frost, it would be well that it should be eaten without unnecessary delay. Its finder has carried it off, therefore, to fulfil the ultimate destiny of a goose, while I continue to retain the hat of the unknown gentleman who lost his Christmas dinner.”
“Did he not advertise? ”
“No.”
“Then, what clue could you have as to his identity? ”
“Only as much as we can deduce.”
“From his hat? ”
“Precisely.”
“But you are joking. What can you gather from this old battered felt? ”
“Here is my lens. You know my methods. What can you gather yourself as to the individuality of the man who has worn this article? ”
I took the tattered object in my hands and turned it over rather ruefully. It was a very ordinary black hat of the usual round shape, hard and much the worse for wear. The lining had been of red silk, but was a good deal discoloured. There was no maker’s name; but, as Holmes had remarked, the initials “H. B.” were scrawled upon one side. It was pierced in the brim for a hat-securer, but the elastic was missing. For the rest, it was cracked, exceedingly dusty, and spotted in several places, although there seemed to have been some attempt to hide the discoloured patches by smearing them with ink.
“I can see nothing, ” said I, handing it back to my friend.
“On the contrary, Watson, you can see everything. You fail, however, to reason from what you see. You are too timid in drawing your inferences.”
“Then, pray tell me what it is that you can infer from this hat? ”
He picked it up and gazed at it in the peculiar introspective fashion which was characteristic of him. “It is perhaps less suggestive than it might have been, ” he remarked, “and yet there are a few inferences which are very distinct, and a few others which represent at least a strong balance of probability. That the man was highly intellectual is of course obvious upon the face of it, and also that he was fairly well-to-do within the last three years, although he has now fallen upon evil days. He had foresight, but has less now than formerly, pointing to a moral retrogression, which, when taken with the decline of his fortunes, seems to indicate some evil influence, probably drink, at work upon him. This may account also for the obvious fact that his wife has ceased to love him.”
“My dear Holmes! ”
“He has, however, retained some degree of self-respect, ” he continued, disregarding my remonstrance. “He is a man who leads a sedentary life, goes out little, is out of training entirely, is middle-aged, has grizzled hair which he has had cut within the last few days, and which he anoints with lime-cream. These are the more patent facts which are to be deduced from his hat. Also, by the way, that it is extremely improbable that he has gas laid on in his house.”
“You are certainly joking, Holmes.”
“Not in the least. Is it possible that even now, when I give you these results, you are unable to see how they are attained? ”
“I have no doubt that I am very stupid, but I must confess that I am unable to follow you. For example, how did you deduce that this man was intellectual? ”
For answer Holmes clapped the hat upon his head. It came right over the forehead and settled upon the bridge of his nose. “It is a question of cubic capacity, ” said he; “a man with so large a brain must have something in it.”
“The decline of his fortunes, then? ”
“This hat is three years old. These flat brims curled at the edge came in then. It is a hat of the very best quality. Look at the band of ribbed silk and the excellent lining. If this man could afford to buy so expensive a hat three years ago, and has had no hat since, then he has assuredly gone down in the world.”
“Well, that is clear enough, certainly. But how about the foresight and the moral retrogression? ”
Sherlock Holmes laughed. “Here is the foresight, ” said he putting his finger upon the little disc and loop of the hat-securer. “They are never sold upon hats. If this man ordered one, it is a sign of a certain amount of foresight, since he went out of his way to take this precaution against the wind. But since we see that he has broken the elastic and has not troubled to replace it, it is obvious that he has less foresight now than formerly, which is a distinct proof of a weakening nature. On the other hand, he has endeavoured to conceal some of these stains upon the felt by daubing them with ink, which is a sign that he has not entirely lost his self-respect.”
“Your reasoning is certainly plausible.”
“The further points, that he is middle-aged, that his hair is grizzled, that it has been recently cut, and that he uses lime-cream, are all to be gathered from a close examination of the lower part of the lining. The lens discloses a large number of hair-ends, clean cut by the scissors of the barber. They all appear to be adhesive, and there is a distinct odour of lime-cream. This dust, you will observe, is not the gritty, grey dust of the street but the fluffy brown dust of the house, showing that it has been hung up indoors most of the time, while the marks of moisture upon the inside are proof positive that the wearer perspired very freely, and could therefore, hardly be in the best of training.”
“But his wife—you said that she had ceased to love him.”
“This hat has not been brushed for weeks. When I see you, my dear Watson, with a week’s accumulation of dust upon your hat, and when your wife allows you to go out in such a state, I shall fear that you also have been unfortunate enough to lose your wife’s affection.”
“But he might be a bachelor.”
“Nay, he was bringing home the goose as a peace-offering to his wife. Remember the card upon the bird’s leg.”
“You have an answer to everything. But how on earth do you deduce that the gas is not laid on in his house? ”
“One tallow stain, or even two, might come by chance; but when I see no less than five, I think that there can be little doubt that the individual must be brought into frequent contact with burning tallow—walks upstairs at night probably with his hat in one hand and a guttering candle in the other. Anyhow, he never got tallow-stains from a gas-jet. Are you satisfied? ”
“Well, it is very ingenious, ” said I, laughing; “but since, as you said just now, there has been no crime committed, and no harm done save the loss of a goose, all this seems to be rather a waste of energy.”
Sherlock Holmes had opened his mouth to reply, when the door flew open, and Peterson, the commissionaire, rushed into the apartment with flushed cheeks and the face of a man who is dazed with astonishment.
“The goose, Mr. Holmes! The goose, sir! ” he gasped.
“Eh? What of it, then? Has it returned to life and flapped off through the kitchen window? ” Holmes twisted himself round upon the sofa to get a fairer view of the man’s excited face.
“See here, sir! See what my wife found in its crop! ” He held out his hand and displayed upon the centre of the palm a brilliantly scintillating blue stone, rather smaller than a bean in size, but of such purity and radiance that it twinkled like an electric point in the dark hollow of his hand.
Sherlock Holmes sat up with a whistle. “By Jove, Peterson! ” said he, “this is treasure trove indeed. I suppose you know what you have got? ”
“A diamond, sir? A precious stone. It cuts into glass as though it were putty.”
“It’s more than a precious stone. It is _the_ precious stone.”
“Not the Countess of Morcar’s blue carbuncle! ” I ejaculated.
“Precisely so. I ought to know its size and shape, seeing that I have read the advertisement about it in _The Times_ every day lately. It is absolutely unique, and its value can only be conjectured, but the reward offered of £ 1000 is certainly not within a twentieth part of the market price.”
“A thousand pounds! Great Lord of mercy! ” The commissionaire plumped down into a chair and stared from one to the other of us.
“That is the reward, and I have reason to know that there are sentimental considerations in the background which would induce the Countess to part with half her fortune if she could but recover the gem.”
“It was lost, if I remember aright, at the Hotel Cosmopolitan, ” I remarked.
“Precisely so, on December 22nd, just five days ago. John Horner, a plumber, was accused of having abstracted it from the lady’s jewel-case. The evidence against him was so strong that the case has been referred to the Assizes. I have some account of the matter here, I believe.” He rummaged amid his newspapers, glancing over the dates, until at last he smoothed one out, doubled it over, and read the following paragraph:
“Hotel Cosmopolitan Jewel Robbery. John Horner, 26, plumber, was brought up upon the charge of having upon the 22nd inst., abstracted from the jewel-case of the Countess of Morcar the valuable gem known as the blue carbuncle. James Ryder, upper-attendant at the hotel, gave his evidence to the effect that he had shown Horner up to the dressing-room of the Countess of Morcar upon the day of the robbery in order that he might solder the second bar of the grate, which was loose. He had remained with Horner some little time, but had finally been called away. On returning, he found that Horner had disappeared, that the bureau had been forced open, and that the small morocco casket in which, as it afterwards transpired, the Countess was accustomed to keep her jewel, was lying empty upon the dressing-table. Ryder instantly gave the alarm, and Horner was arrested the same evening; but the stone could not be found either upon his person or in his rooms. Catherine Cusack, maid to the Countess, deposed to having heard Ryder’s cry of dismay on discovering the robbery, and to having rushed into the room, where she found matters as described by the last witness. Inspector Bradstreet, B division, gave evidence as to the arrest of Horner, who struggled frantically, and protested his innocence in the strongest terms. Evidence of a previous conviction for robbery having been given against the prisoner, the magistrate refused to deal summarily with the offence, but referred it to the Assizes. Horner, who had shown signs of intense emotion during the proceedings, fainted away at the conclusion and was carried out of court.”
“Hum! So much for the police-court, ” said Holmes thoughtfully, tossing aside the paper. “The question for us now to solve is the sequence of events leading from a rifled jewel-case at one end to the crop of a goose in Tottenham Court Road at the other. You see, Watson, our little deductions have suddenly assumed a much more important and less innocent aspect. Here is the stone; the stone came from the goose, and the goose came from Mr. Henry Baker, the gentleman with the bad hat and all the other characteristics with which I have bored you. So now we must set ourselves very seriously to finding this gentleman and ascertaining what part he has played in this little mystery. To do this, we must try the simplest means first, and these lie undoubtedly in an advertisement in all the evening papers. If this fail, I shall have recourse to other methods.”
“What will you say? ”
“Give me a pencil and that slip of paper. Now, then: ‘Found at the corner of Goodge Street, a goose and a black felt hat. Mr. Henry Baker can have the same by applying at 6:30 this evening at 221B, Baker Street.’ That is clear and concise.”
“Very. But will he see it? ”
“Well, he is sure to keep an eye on the papers, since, to a poor man, the loss was a heavy one. He was clearly so scared by his mischance in breaking the window and by the approach of Peterson that he thought of nothing but flight, but since then he must have bitterly regretted the impulse which caused him to drop his bird. Then, again, the introduction of his name will cause him to see it, for everyone who knows him will direct his attention to it. Here you are, Peterson, run down to the advertising agency and have this put in the evening papers.”
“In which, sir? ”
“Oh, in the _Globe_, _Star_, _Pall Mall_, _St. James’s Gazette_, _Evening News_, _Standard_, _Echo_, and any others that occur to you.”
“Very well, sir. And this stone? ”
“Ah, yes, I shall keep the stone. Thank you. And, I say, Peterson, just buy a goose on your way back and leave it here with me, for we must have one to give to this gentleman in place of the one which your family is now devouring.”
When the commissionaire had gone, Holmes took up the stone and held it against the light. “It’s a bonny thing, ” said he. “Just see how it glints and sparkles. Of course it is a nucleus and focus of crime. Every good stone is. They are the devil’s pet baits. In the larger and older jewels every facet may stand for a bloody deed. This stone is not yet twenty years old. It was found in the banks of the Amoy River in southern China and is remarkable in having every characteristic of the carbuncle, save that it is blue in shade instead of ruby red. In spite of its youth, it has already a sinister history. There have been two murders, a vitriol-throwing, a suicide, and several robberies brought about for the sake of this forty-grain weight of crystallised charcoal. Who would think that so pretty a toy would be a purveyor to the gallows and the prison? I’ll lock it up in my strong box now and drop a line to the Countess to say that we have it.”
“Do you think that this man Horner is innocent? ”
“I cannot tell.”
“Well, then, do you imagine that this other one, Henry Baker, had anything to do with the matter? ”
“It is, I think, much more likely that Henry Baker is an absolutely innocent man, who had no idea that the bird which he was carrying was of considerably more value than if it were made of solid gold. That, however, I shall determine by a very simple test if we have an answer to our advertisement.”
“And you can do nothing until then? ”
“Nothing.”
“In that case I shall continue my professional round. But I shall come back in the evening at the hour you have mentioned, for I should like to see the solution of so tangled a business.”
“Very glad to see you. I dine at seven. There is a woodcock, I believe. By the way, in view of recent occurrences, perhaps I ought to ask Mrs. Hudson to examine its crop.”
I had been delayed at a case, and it was a little after half-past six when I found myself in Baker Street once more. As I approached the house I saw a tall man in a Scotch bonnet with a coat which was buttoned up to his chin waiting outside in the bright semicircle which was thrown from the fanlight. Just as I arrived the door was opened, and we were shown up together to Holmes’ room.
“Mr. Henry Baker, I believe, ” said he, rising from his armchair and greeting his visitor with the easy air of geniality which he could so readily assume. “Pray take this chair by the fire, Mr. Baker. It is a cold night, and I observe that your circulation is more adapted for summer than for winter. Ah, Watson, you have just come at the right time. Is that your hat, Mr. Baker? ”
“Yes, sir, that is undoubtedly my hat.”
He was a large man with rounded shoulders, a massive head, and a broad, intelligent face, sloping down to a pointed beard of grizzled brown. A touch of red in nose and cheeks, with a slight tremor of his extended hand, recalled Holmes’ surmise as to his habits. His rusty black frock-coat was buttoned right up in front, with the collar turned up, and his lank wrists protruded from his sleeves without a sign of cuff or shirt. He spoke in a slow staccato fashion, choosing his words with care, and gave the impression generally of a man of learning and letters who had had ill-usage at the hands of fortune.
“We have retained these things for some days, ” said Holmes, “because we expected to see an advertisement from you giving your address. I am at a loss to know now why you did not advertise.”
Our visitor gave a rather shamefaced laugh. “Shillings have not been so plentiful with me as they once were, ” he remarked. “I had no doubt that the gang of roughs who assaulted me had carried off both my hat and the bird. I did not care to spend more money in a hopeless attempt at recovering them.”
“Very naturally. By the way, about the bird, we were compelled to eat it.”
“To eat it! ” Our visitor half rose from his chair in his excitement.
“Yes, it would have been of no use to anyone had we not done so. But I presume that this other goose upon the sideboard, which is about the same weight and perfectly fresh, will answer your purpose equally well? ”
“Oh, certainly, certainly, ” answered Mr. Baker with a sigh of relief.
“Of course, we still have the feathers, legs, crop, and so on of your own bird, so if you wish—”
The man burst into a hearty laugh. “They might be useful to me as relics of my adventure, ” said he, “but beyond that I can hardly see what use the _disjecta membra_ of my late acquaintance are going to be to me. No, sir, I think that, with your permission, I will confine my attentions to the excellent bird which I perceive upon the sideboard.”
Sherlock Holmes glanced sharply across at me with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
“There is your hat, then, and there your bird, ” said he. “By the way, would it bore you to tell me where you got the other one from? I am somewhat of a fowl fancier, and I have seldom seen a better grown goose.”
“Certainly, sir, ” said Baker, who had risen and tucked his newly gained property under his arm. “There are a few of us who frequent the Alpha Inn, near the Museum—we are to be found in the Museum itself during the day, you understand. This year our good host, Windigate by name, instituted a goose club, by which, on consideration of some few pence every week, we were each to receive a bird at Christmas. My pence were duly paid, and the rest is familiar to you. I am much indebted to you, sir, for a Scotch bonnet is fitted neither to my years nor my gravity.” With a comical pomposity of manner he bowed solemnly to both of us and strode off upon his way.
“So much for Mr. Henry Baker, ” said Holmes when he had closed the door behind him. “It is quite certain that he knows nothing whatever about the matter. Are you hungry, Watson? ”
“Not particularly.”
“Then I suggest that we turn our dinner into a supper and follow up this clue while it is still hot.”
“By all means.”
It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped cravats about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by blew out into smoke like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly as we swung through the doctors’ quarter, Wimpole Street, Harley Street, and so through Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn, which is a small public-house at the corner of one of the streets which runs down into Holborn. Holmes pushed open the door of the private bar and ordered two glasses of beer from the ruddy-faced, white-aproned landlord.
“Your beer should be excellent if it is as good as your geese, ” said he.
“My geese! ” The man seemed surprised.
“Yes. I was speaking only half an hour ago to Mr. Henry Baker, who was a member of your goose club.”
“Ah! yes, I see. But you see, sir, them’s not _our_ geese.”
“Indeed! Whose, then? ”
“Well, I got the two dozen from a salesman in Covent Garden.”
“Indeed? I know some of them. Which was it? ”
“Breckinridge is his name.”
“Ah! I don’t know him. Well, here’s your good health landlord, and prosperity to your house. Good-night.”
“Now for Mr. Breckinridge, ” he continued, buttoning up his coat as we came out into the frosty air. “Remember, Watson that though we have so homely a thing as a goose at one end of this chain, we have at the other a man who will certainly get seven years’ penal servitude unless we can establish his innocence. It is possible that our inquiry may but confirm his guilt; but, in any case, we have a line of investigation which has been missed by the police, and which a singular chance has placed in our hands. Let us follow it out to the bitter end. Faces to the south, then, and quick march! ”
We passed across Holborn, down Endell Street, and so through a zigzag of slums to Covent Garden Market. One of the largest stalls bore the name of Breckinridge upon it, and the proprietor a horsey-looking man, with a sharp face and trim side-whiskers was helping a boy to put up the shutters.
“Good-evening. It’s a cold night, ” said Holmes.
The salesman nodded and shot a questioning glance at my companion.
“Sold out of geese, I see, ” continued Holmes, pointing at the bare slabs of marble.
“Let you have five hundred to-morrow morning.”
“That’s no good.”
“Well, there are some on the stall with the gas-flare.”
“Ah, but I was recommended to you.”
“Who by? ”
“The landlord of the Alpha.”
“Oh, yes; I sent him a couple of dozen.”
“Fine birds they were, too. Now where did you get them from? ”
To my surprise the question provoked a burst of anger from the salesman.
“Now, then, mister, ” said he, with his head cocked and his arms akimbo, “what are you driving at? Let’s have it straight, now.”
“It is straight enough. I should like to know who sold you the geese which you supplied to the Alpha.”
“Well then, I shan’t tell you. So now! ”
“Oh, it is a matter of no importance; but I don’t know why you should be so warm over such a trifle.”
“Warm! You’d be as warm, maybe, if you were as pestered as I am. When I pay good money for a good article there should be an end of the business; but it’s ‘Where are the geese? ’ and ‘Who did you sell the geese to? ’ and ‘What will you take for the geese? ’ One would think they were the only geese in the world, to hear the fuss that is made over them.”
“Well, I have no connection with any other people who have been making inquiries, ” said Holmes carelessly. “If you won’t tell us the bet is off, that is all. But I’m always ready to back my opinion on a matter of fowls, and I have a fiver on it that the bird I ate is country bred.”
“Well, then, you’ve lost your fiver, for it’s town bred, ” snapped the salesman.
“It’s nothing of the kind.”
“I say it is.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“D’you think you know more about fowls than I, who have handled them ever since I was a nipper? I tell you, all those birds that went to the Alpha were town bred.”
“You’ll never persuade me to believe that.”
“Will you bet, then? ”
“It’s merely taking your money, for I know that I am right. But I’ll have a sovereign on with you, just to teach you not to be obstinate.”
The salesman chuckled grimly. “Bring me the books, Bill, ” said he.
The small boy brought round a small thin volume and a great greasy-backed one, laying them out together beneath the hanging lamp.
“Now then, Mr. Cocksure, ” said the salesman, “I thought that I was out of geese, but before I finish you’ll find that there is still one left in my shop. You see this little book? ”
“Well? ”
“That’s the list of the folk from whom I buy. D’you see? Well, then, here on this page are the country folk, and the numbers after their names are where their accounts are in the big ledger. Now, then! You see this other page in red ink? Well, that is a list of my town suppliers. Now, look at that third name. Just read it out to me.”
“Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road—249, ” read Holmes.
“Quite so. Now turn that up in the ledger.”
Holmes turned to the page indicated. “Here you are, ‘Mrs. Oakshott, 117, Brixton Road, egg and poultry supplier.’”
“Now, then, what’s the last entry? ”
“‘December 22nd. Twenty-four geese at 7_s_. 6_d_.’”
“Quite so. There you are. And underneath? ”
“‘Sold to Mr. Windigate of the Alpha, at 12_s_.’”
“What have you to say now? ”
Sherlock Holmes looked deeply chagrined. He drew a sovereign from his pocket and threw it down upon the slab, turning away with the air of a man whose disgust is too deep for words. A few yards off he stopped under a lamp-post and laughed in the hearty, noiseless fashion which was peculiar to him.
“When you see a man with whiskers of that cut and the ‘Pink ’un’ protruding out of his pocket, you can always draw him by a bet, ” said he. “I daresay that if I had put £ 100 down in front of him, that man would not have given me such complete information as was drawn from him by the idea that he was doing me on a wager. Well, Watson, we are, I fancy, nearing the end of our quest, and the only point which remains to be determined is whether we should go on to this Mrs. Oakshott to-night, or whether we should reserve it for to-morrow. It is clear from what that surly fellow said that there are others besides ourselves who are anxious about the matter, and I should—”
His remarks were suddenly cut short by a loud hubbub which broke out from the stall which we had just left. Turning round we saw a little rat-faced fellow standing in the centre of the circle of yellow light which was thrown by the swinging lamp, while Breckinridge, the salesman, framed in the door of his stall, was shaking his fists fiercely at the cringing figure.
“I’ve had enough of you and your geese, ” he shouted. “I wish you were all at the devil together. If you come pestering me any more with your silly talk I’ll set the dog at you. You bring Mrs. Oakshott here and I’ll answer her, but what have you to do with it? Did I buy the geese off you? ”
“No; but one of them was mine all the same, ” whined the little man.
“Well, then, ask Mrs. Oakshott for it.”
“She told me to ask you.”
“Well, you can ask the King of Proosia, for all I care. I’ve had enough of it. Get out of this! ” He rushed fiercely forward, and the inquirer flitted away into the darkness.
“Ha! this may save us a visit to Brixton Road, ” whispered Holmes. “Come with me, and we will see what is to be made of this fellow.” Striding through the scattered knots of people who lounged round the flaring stalls, my companion speedily overtook the little man and touched him upon the shoulder. He sprang round, and I could see in the gas-light that every vestige of colour had been driven from his face.
“Who are you, then? What do you want? ” he asked in a quavering voice.
“You will excuse me, ” said Holmes blandly, “but I could not help overhearing the questions which you put to the salesman just now. I think that I could be of assistance to you.”
“You? Who are you? How could you know anything of the matter? ”
“My name is Sherlock Holmes. It is my business to know what other people don’t know.”
“But you can know nothing of this? ”
“Excuse me, I know everything of it. You are endeavouring to trace some geese which were sold by Mrs. Oakshott, of Brixton Road, to a salesman named Breckinridge, by him in turn to Mr. Windigate, of the Alpha, and by him to his club, of which Mr. Henry Baker is a member.”
“Oh, sir, you are the very man whom I have longed to meet, ” cried the little fellow with outstretched hands and quivering fingers. “I can hardly explain to you how interested I am in this matter.”
Sherlock Holmes hailed a four-wheeler which was passing. “In that case we had better discuss it in a cosy room rather than in this wind-swept market-place, ” said he. “But pray tell me, before we go farther, who it is that I have the pleasure of assisting.”
The man hesitated for an instant. “My name is John Robinson, ” he answered with a sidelong glance.
“No, no; the real name, ” said Holmes sweetly. “It is always awkward doing business with an alias.”
A flush sprang to the white cheeks of the stranger. “Well then, ” said he, “my real name is James Ryder.”
“Precisely so. Head attendant at the Hotel Cosmopolitan. Pray step into the cab, and I shall soon be able to tell you everything which you would wish to know.”
The little man stood glancing from one to the other of us with half-frightened, half-hopeful eyes, as one who is not sure whether he is on the verge of a windfall or of a catastrophe. Then he stepped into the cab, and in half an hour we were back in the sitting-room at Baker Street. Nothing had been said during our drive, but the high, thin breathing of our new companion, and the claspings and unclaspings of his hands, spoke of the nervous tension within him.
“Here we are! ” said Holmes cheerily as we filed into the room. “The fire looks very seasonable in this weather. You look cold, Mr. Ryder. Pray take the basket-chair. I will just put on my slippers before we settle this little matter of yours. Now, then! You want to know what became of those geese? ”
“Yes, sir.”
“Or rather, I fancy, of that goose. It was one bird, I imagine in which you were interested—white, with a black bar across the tail.”
Ryder quivered with emotion. “Oh, sir, ” he cried, “can you tell me where it went to? ”
“It came here.”
“Here? ”
“Yes, and a most remarkable bird it proved. I don’t wonder that you should take an interest in it. It laid an egg after it was dead—the bonniest, brightest little blue egg that ever was seen. I have it here in my museum.”
Our visitor staggered to his feet and clutched the mantelpiece with his right hand. Holmes unlocked his strong-box and held up the blue carbuncle, which shone out like a star, with a cold, brilliant, many-pointed radiance. Ryder stood glaring with a drawn face, uncertain whether to claim or to disown it.
“The game’s up, Ryder, ” said Holmes quietly. “Hold up, man, or you’ll be into the fire! Give him an arm back into his chair, Watson. He’s not got blood enough to go in for felony with impunity. Give him a dash of brandy. So! Now he looks a little more human. What a shrimp it is, to be sure! ”
For a moment he had staggered and nearly fallen, but the brandy brought a tinge of colour into his cheeks, and he sat staring with frightened eyes at his accuser.
“I have almost every link in my hands, and all the proofs which I could possibly need, so there is little which you need tell me. Still, that little may as well be cleared up to make the case complete. You had heard, Ryder, of this blue stone of the Countess of Morcar’s? ”
“It was Catherine Cusack who told me of it, ” said he in a crackling voice.
“I see—her ladyship’s waiting-maid. Well, the temptation of sudden wealth so easily acquired was too much for you, as it has been for better men before you; but you were not very scrupulous in the means you used. It seems to me, Ryder, that there is the making of a very pretty villain in you. You knew that this man Horner, the plumber, had been concerned in some such matter before, and that suspicion would rest the more readily upon him. What did you do, then? You made some small job in my lady’s room—you and your confederate Cusack—and you managed that he should be the man sent for. Then, when he had left, you rifled the jewel-case, raised the alarm, and had this unfortunate man arrested. You then—”
Ryder threw himself down suddenly upon the rug and clutched at my companion’s knees. “For God’s sake, have mercy! ” he shrieked. “Think of my father! Of my mother! It would break their hearts. I never went wrong before! I never will again. I swear it. I’ll swear it on a Bible. Oh, don’t bring it into court! For Christ’s sake, don’t! ”
“Get back into your chair! ” said Holmes sternly. “It is very well to cringe and crawl now, but you thought little enough of this poor Horner in the dock for a crime of which he knew nothing.”
“I will fly, Mr. Holmes. I will leave the country, sir. Then the charge against him will break down.”
“Hum! We will talk about that. And now let us hear a true account of the next act. How came the stone into the goose, and how came the goose into the open market? Tell us the truth, for there lies your only hope of safety.”
Ryder passed his tongue over his parched lips. “I will tell you it just as it happened, sir, ” said he. “When Horner had been arrested, it seemed to me that it would be best for me to get away with the stone at once, for I did not know at what moment the police might not take it into their heads to search me and my room. There was no place about the hotel where it would be safe. I went out, as if on some commission, and I made for my sister’s house. She had married a man named Oakshott, and lived in Brixton Road, where she fattened fowls for the market. All the way there every man I met seemed to me to be a policeman or a detective; and, for all that it was a cold night, the sweat was pouring down my face before I came to the Brixton Road. My sister asked me what was the matter, and why I was so pale; but I told her that I had been upset by the jewel robbery at the hotel. Then I went into the back yard and smoked a pipe and wondered what it would be best to do.
“I had a friend once called Maudsley, who went to the bad, and has just been serving his time in Pentonville. One day he had met me, and fell into talk about the ways of thieves, and how they could get rid of what they stole. I knew that he would be true to me, for I knew one or two things about him; so I made up my mind to go right on to Kilburn, where he lived, and take him into my confidence. He would show me how to turn the stone into money. But how to get to him in safety? I thought of the agonies I had gone through in coming from the hotel. I might at any moment be seized and searched, and there would be the stone in my waistcoat pocket. I was leaning against the wall at the time and looking at the geese which were waddling about round my feet, and suddenly an idea came into my head which showed me how I could beat the best detective that ever lived.
“My sister had told me some weeks before that I might have the pick of her geese for a Christmas present, and I knew that she was always as good as her word. I would take my goose now, and in it I would carry my stone to Kilburn. There was a little shed in the yard, and behind this I drove one of the birds—a fine big one, white, with a barred tail. I caught it, and prying its bill open, I thrust the stone down its throat as far as my finger could reach. The bird gave a gulp, and I felt the stone pass along its gullet and down into its crop. But the creature flapped and struggled, and out came my sister to know what was the matter. As I turned to speak to her the brute broke loose and fluttered off among the others.
“‘Whatever were you doing with that bird, Jem? ’ says she.
“‘Well, ’ said I, ‘you said you’d give me one for Christmas, and I was feeling which was the fattest.’
“‘Oh, ’ says she, ‘we’ve set yours aside for you—Jem’s bird, we call it. It’s the big white one over yonder. There’s twenty-six of them, which makes one for you, and one for us, and two dozen for the market.’
“‘Thank you, Maggie, ’ says I; ‘but if it is all the same to you, I’d rather have that one I was handling just now.’
“‘The other is a good three pound heavier, ’ said she, ‘and we fattened it expressly for you.’
“‘Never mind. I’ll have the other, and I’ll take it now, ’ said I.
“‘Oh, just as you like, ’ said she, a little huffed. ‘Which is it you want, then? ’
“‘That white one with the barred tail, right in the middle of the flock.’
“‘Oh, very well. Kill it and take it with you.’
“Well, I did what she said, Mr. Holmes, and I carried the bird all the way to Kilburn. I told my pal what I had done, for he was a man that it was easy to tell a thing like that to. He laughed until he choked, and we got a knife and opened the goose. My heart turned to water, for there was no sign of the stone, and I knew that some terrible mistake had occurred. I left the bird, rushed back to my sister’s, and hurried into the back yard. There was not a bird to be seen there.
“‘Where are they all, Maggie? ’ I cried.
“‘Gone to the dealer’s, Jem.’
“‘Which dealer’s? ’
“‘Breckinridge, of Covent Garden.’
“‘But was there another with a barred tail? ’ I asked, ‘the same as the one I chose? ’
“‘Yes, Jem; there were two barred-tailed ones, and I could never tell them apart.’
“Well, then, of course I saw it all, and I ran off as hard as my feet would carry me to this man Breckinridge; but he had sold the lot at once, and not one word would he tell me as to where they had gone. You heard him yourselves to-night. Well, he has always answered me like that. My sister thinks that I am going mad. Sometimes I think that I am myself. And now—and now I am myself a branded thief, without ever having touched the wealth for which I sold my character. God help me! God help me! ” He burst into convulsive sobbing, with his face buried in his hands.
There was a long silence, broken only by his heavy breathing and by the measured tapping of Sherlock Holmes’ finger-tips upon the edge of the table. Then my friend rose and threw open the door.
“Get out! ” said he.
“What, sir! Oh, Heaven bless you! ”
“No more words. Get out! ”
And no more words were needed. There was a rush, a clatter upon the stairs, the bang of a door, and the crisp rattle of running footfalls from the street.
“After all, Watson, ” said Holmes, reaching up his hand for his clay pipe, “I am not retained by the police to supply their deficiencies. If Horner were in danger it would be another thing; but this fellow will not appear against him, and the case must collapse. I suppose that I am commuting a felony, but it is just possible that I am saving a soul. This fellow will not go wrong again; he is too terribly frightened. Send him to gaol now, and you make him a gaol-bird for life. Besides, it is the season of forgiveness. Chance has put in our way a most singular and whimsical problem, and its solution is its own reward. If you will have the goodness to touch the bell, Doctor, we will begin another investigation, in which, also a bird will be the chief feature.”
VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND
On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I have during the last eight years studied the methods of my friend Sherlock Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number merely strange, but none commonplace; for, working as he did rather for the love of his art than for the acquirement of wealth, he refused to associate himself with any investigation which did not tend towards the unusual, and even the fantastic. Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall any which presented more singular features than that which was associated with the well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. The events in question occurred in the early days of my association with Holmes, when we were sharing rooms as bachelors in Baker Street. It is possible that I might have placed them upon record before, but a promise of secrecy was made at the time, from which I have only been freed during the last month by the untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge was given. It is perhaps as well that the facts should now come to light, for I have reasons to know that there are widespread rumours as to the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the matter even more terrible than the truth.
It was early in April in the year ’83 that I woke one morning to find Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just a little resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits.
“Very sorry to knock you up, Watson, ” said he, “but it’s the common lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted upon me, and I on you.”
“What is it, then—a fire? ”
“No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She is waiting now in the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander about the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and knock sleepy people up out of their beds, I presume that it is something very pressing which they have to communicate. Should it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I am sure, wish to follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I should call you and give you the chance.”
“My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything.”
I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his professional investigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on a logical basis with which he unravelled the problems which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw on my clothes and was ready in a few minutes to accompany my friend down to the sitting-room. A lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had been sitting in the window, rose as we entered.
“Good-morning, madam, ” said Holmes cheerily. “My name is Sherlock Holmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I am glad to see that Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the fire. Pray draw up to it, and I shall order you a cup of hot coffee, for I observe that you are shivering.”
“It is not cold which makes me shiver, ” said the woman in a low voice, changing her seat as requested.
“What, then? ”
“It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror.” She raised her veil as she spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable state of agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restless frightened eyes, like those of some hunted animal. Her features and figure were those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was shot with premature grey, and her expression was weary and haggard. Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one of his quick, all-comprehensive glances.
“You must not fear, ” said he soothingly, bending forward and patting her forearm. “We shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt. You have come in by train this morning, I see.”
“You know me, then? ”
“No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm of your left glove. You must have started early, and yet you had a good drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reached the station.”
The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at my companion.
“There is no mystery, my dear madam, ” said he, smiling. “The left arm of your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven places. The marks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a dog-cart which throws up mud in that way, and then only when you sit on the left-hand side of the driver.”
“Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct, ” said she. “I started from home before six, reached Leatherhead at twenty past, and came in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, I can stand this strain no longer; I shall go mad if it continues. I have no one to turn to—none, save only one, who cares for me, and he, poor fellow, can be of little aid. I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom you helped in the hour of her sore need. It was from her that I had your address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you could help me, too, and at least throw a little light through the dense darkness which surrounds me? At present it is out of my power to reward you for your services, but in a month or six weeks I shall be married, with the control of my own income, and then at least you shall not find me ungrateful.”
Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small case-book, which he consulted.
“Farintosh, ” said he. “Ah yes, I recall the case; it was concerned with an opal tiara. I think it was before your time, Watson. I can only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devote the same care to your case as I did to that of your friend. As to reward, my profession is its own reward; but you are at liberty to defray whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time which suits you best. And now I beg that you will lay before us everything that may help us in forming an opinion upon the matter.”
“Alas! ” replied our visitor, “the very horror of my situation lies in the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend so entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial to another, that even he to whom of all others I have a right to look for help and advice looks upon all that I tell him about it as the fancies of a nervous woman. He does not say so, but I can read it from his soothing answers and averted eyes. But I have heard, Mr. Holmes, that you can see deeply into the manifold wickedness of the human heart. You may advise me how to walk amid the dangers which encompass me.”
“I am all attention, madam.”
“My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who is the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, the Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey.”
Holmes nodded his head. “The name is familiar to me, ” said he.
“The family was at one time among the richest in England, and the estates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, and Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four successive heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the family ruin was eventually completed by a gambler in the days of the Regency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground, and the two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed under a heavy mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existence there, living the horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; but his only son, my stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to the new conditions, obtained an advance from a relative, which enabled him to take a medical degree and went out to Calcutta, where, by his professional skill and his force of character, he established a large practice. In a fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house, he beat his native butler to death and narrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a long term of imprisonment and afterwards returned to England a morose and disappointed man.
“When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, the young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. My sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the time of my mother’s re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of money—not less than £ 1000 a year—and this she bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirely while we resided with him, with a provision that a certain annual sum should be allowed to each of us in the event of our marriage. Shortly after our return to England my mother died—she was killed eight years ago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned his attempts to establish himself in practice in London and took us to live with him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The money which my mother had left was enough for all our wants, and there seemed to be no obstacle to our happiness.
“But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time. Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours, who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back in the old family seat, he shut himself up in his house and seldom came out save to indulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might cross his path. Violence of temper approaching to mania has been hereditary in the men of the family, and in my stepfather’s case it had, I believe, been intensified by his long residence in the tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in the police-court, until at last he became the terror of the village, and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger.
“Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a stream, and it was only by paying over all the money which I could gather together that I was able to avert another public exposure. He had no friends at all save the wandering gipsies, and he would give these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered land which represent the family estate, and would accept in return the hospitality of their tents, wandering away with them sometimes for weeks on end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are sent over to him by a correspondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah and a baboon, which wander freely over his grounds and are feared by the villagers almost as much as their master.
“You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had no great pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay with us, and for a long time we did all the work of the house. She was but thirty at the time of her death, and yet her hair had already begun to whiten, even as mine has.”
“Your sister is dead, then? ”
“She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish to speak to you. You can understand that, living the life which I have described, we were little likely to see anyone of our own age and position. We had, however, an aunt, my mother’s maiden sister, Miss Honoria Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and we were occasionally allowed to pay short visits at this lady’s house. Julia went there at Christmas two years ago, and met there a half-pay major of marines, to whom she became engaged. My stepfather learned of the engagement when my sister returned and offered no objection to the marriage; but within a fortnight of the day which had been fixed for the wedding, the terrible event occurred which has deprived me of my only companion.”
Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed and his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened his lids now and glanced across at his visitor.
“Pray be precise as to details, ” said he.
“It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadful time is seared into my memory. The manor-house is, as I have already said, very old, and only one wing is now inhabited. The bedrooms in this wing are on the ground floor, the sitting-rooms being in the central block of the buildings. Of these bedrooms the first is Dr. Roylott’s, the second my sister’s, and the third my own. There is no communication between them, but they all open out into the same corridor. Do I make myself plain? ”
“Perfectly so.”
“The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. That fatal night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though we knew that he had not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled by the smell of the strong Indian cigars which it was his custom to smoke. She left her room, therefore, and came into mine, where she sat for some time, chatting about her approaching wedding. At eleven o’clock she rose to leave me, but she paused at the door and looked back.
“‘Tell me, Helen, ’ said she, ‘have you ever heard anyone whistle in the dead of the night? ’
“‘Never, ’ said I.
“‘I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in your sleep? ’
“‘Certainly not. But why? ’
“‘Because during the last few nights I have always, about three in the morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, and it has awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from—perhaps from the next room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would just ask you whether you had heard it.’
“‘No, I have not. It must be those wretched gipsies in the plantation.’
“‘Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you did not hear it also.’
“‘Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.’
“‘Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.’ She smiled back at me, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her key turn in the lock.”
“Indeed, ” said Holmes. “Was it your custom always to lock yourselves in at night? ”
“Always.”
“And why? ”
“I think that I mentioned to you that the Doctor kept a cheetah and a baboon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors were locked.”
“Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement.”
“I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impending misfortune impressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect, were twins, and you know how subtle are the links which bind two souls which are so closely allied. It was a wild night. The wind was howling outside, and the rain was beating and splashing against the windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbub of the gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knew that it was my sister’s voice. I sprang from my bed, wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my door I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and a few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen. As I ran down the passage, my sister’s door was unlocked, and revolved slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowing what was about to issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister appear at the opening, her face blanched with terror, her hands groping for help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that of a drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at that moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. She writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were dreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that she had not recognised me, but as I bent over her she suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I shall never forget, ‘Oh, my God! Helen! It was the band! The speckled band! ’ There was something else which she would fain have said, and she stabbed with her finger into the air in the direction of the Doctor’s room, but a fresh convulsion seized her and choked her words. I rushed out, calling loudly for my stepfather, and I met him hastening from his room in his dressing-gown. When he reached my sister’s side she was unconscious, and though he poured brandy down her throat and sent for medical aid from the village, all efforts were in vain, for she slowly sank and died without having recovered her consciousness. Such was the dreadful end of my beloved sister.”
“One moment, ” said Holmes, “are you sure about this whistle and metallic sound? Could you swear to it? ”
“That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is my strong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of the gale and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly have been deceived.”
“Was your sister dressed? ”
“No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found the charred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box.”
“Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when the alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did the coroner come to? ”
“He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott’s conduct had long been notorious in the county, but he was unable to find any satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that the door had been fastened upon the inner side, and the windows were blocked by old-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars, which were secured every night. The walls were carefully sounded, and were shown to be quite solid all round, and the flooring was also thoroughly examined, with the same result. The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four large staples. It is certain, therefore, that my sister was quite alone when she met her end. Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon her.”
“How about poison? ”
“The doctors examined her for it, but without success.”
“What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then? ”
“It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, though what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine.”
“Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time? ”
“Yes, there are nearly always some there.”
“Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band—a speckled band? ”
“Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of delirium, sometimes that it may have referred to some band of people, perhaps to these very gipsies in the plantation. I do not know whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so many of them wear over their heads might have suggested the strange adjective which she used.”
Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied.
“These are very deep waters, ” said he; “pray go on with your narrative.”
“Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until lately lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I have known for many years, has done me the honour to ask my hand in marriage. His name is Armitage—Percy Armitage—the second son of Mr. Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My stepfather has offered no opposition to the match, and we are to be married in the course of the spring. Two days ago some repairs were started in the west wing of the building, and my bedroom wall has been pierced, so that I have had to move into the chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the very bed in which she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when last night, as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I suddenly heard in the silence of the night the low whistle which had been the herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit the lamp, but nothing was to be seen in the room. I was too shaken to go to bed again, however, so I dressed, and as soon as it was daylight I slipped down, got a dog-cart at the Crown Inn, which is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead, from whence I have come on this morning with the one object of seeing you and asking your advice.”
“You have done wisely, ” said my friend. “But have you told me all? ”
“Yes, all.”
“Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your stepfather.”
“Why, what do you mean? ”
For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which fringed the hand that lay upon our visitor’s knee. Five little livid spots, the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printed upon the white wrist.
“You have been cruelly used, ” said Holmes.
The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. “He is a hard man, ” she said, “and perhaps he hardly knows his own strength.”
There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin upon his hands and stared into the crackling fire.
“This is a very deep business, ” he said at last. “There are a thousand details which I should desire to know before I decide upon our course of action. Yet we have not a moment to lose. If we were to come to Stoke Moran to-day, would it be possible for us to see over these rooms without the knowledge of your stepfather? ”
“As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon some most important business. It is probable that he will be away all day, and that there would be nothing to disturb you. We have a housekeeper now, but she is old and foolish, and I could easily get her out of the way.”
“Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson? ”
“By no means.”
“Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself? ”
“I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I am in town. But I shall return by the twelve o’clock train, so as to be there in time for your coming.”
“And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself some small business matters to attend to. Will you not wait and breakfast? ”
“No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I have confided my trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing you again this afternoon.” She dropped her thick black veil over her face and glided from the room.
“And what do you think of it all, Watson? ” asked Sherlock Holmes, leaning back in his chair.
“It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business.”
“Dark enough and sinister enough.”
“Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and walls are sound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable, then her sister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met her mysterious end.”
“What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of the very peculiar words of the dying woman? ”
“I cannot think.”
“When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence of a band of gipsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor, the fact that we have every reason to believe that the doctor has an interest in preventing his stepdaughter’s marriage, the dying allusion to a band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stoner heard a metallic clang, which might have been caused by one of those metal bars that secured the shutters falling back into its place, I think that there is good ground to think that the mystery may be cleared along those lines.”
“But what, then, did the gipsies do? ”
“I cannot imagine.”
“I see many objections to any such theory.”
“And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are going to Stoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the objections are fatal, or if they may be explained away. But what in the name of the devil! ”
The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact that our door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framed himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of the professional and of the agricultural, having a black top-hat, a long frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand. So tall was he that his hat actually brushed the cross bar of the doorway, and his breadth seemed to span it across from side to side. A large face, seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with the sun, and marked with every evil passion, was turned from one to the other of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high, thin, fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce old bird of prey.
“Which of you is Holmes? ” asked this apparition.
“My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me, ” said my companion quietly.
“I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran.”
“Indeed, Doctor, ” said Holmes blandly. “Pray take a seat.”
“I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I have traced her. What has she been saying to you? ”
“It is a little cold for the time of the year, ” said Holmes.
“What has she been saying to you? ” screamed the old man furiously.
“But I have heard that the crocuses promise well, ” continued my companion imperturbably.
“Ha! You put me off, do you? ” said our new visitor, taking a step forward and shaking his hunting-crop. “I know you, you scoundrel! I have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler.”
My friend smiled.
“Holmes, the busybody! ”
His smile broadened.
“Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office! ”
Holmes chuckled heartily. “Your conversation is most entertaining, ” said he. “When you go out close the door, for there is a decided draught.”
“I will go when I have had my say. Don’t you dare to meddle with my affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am a dangerous man to fall foul of! See here.” He stepped swiftly forward, seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands.
“See that you keep yourself out of my grip, ” he snarled, and hurling the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the room.
“He seems a very amiable person, ” said Holmes, laughing. “I am not quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that my grip was not much more feeble than his own.” As he spoke he picked up the steel poker and, with a sudden effort, straightened it out again.
“Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the official detective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation, however, and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer from her imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now, Watson, we shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walk down to Doctors’ Commons, where I hope to get some data which may help us in this matter.”
It was nearly one o’clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from his excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled over with notes and figures.
“I have seen the will of the deceased wife, ” said he. “To determine its exact meaning I have been obliged to work out the present prices of the investments with which it is concerned. The total income, which at the time of the wife’s death was little short of £ 1, 100, is now, through the fall in agricultural prices, not more than £ 750. Each daughter can claim an income of £ 250, in case of marriage. It is evident, therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty would have had a mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him to a very serious extent. My morning’s work has not been wasted, since it has proved that he has the very strongest motives for standing in the way of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, this is too serious for dawdling, especially as the old man is aware that we are interesting ourselves in his affairs; so if you are ready, we shall call a cab and drive to Waterloo. I should be very much obliged if you would slip your revolver into your pocket. An Eley’s No. 2 is an excellent argument with gentlemen who can twist steel pokers into knots. That and a tooth-brush are, I think, all that we need.”
At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove for four or five miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a perfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees and wayside hedges were just throwing out their first green shoots, and the air was full of the pleasant smell of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strange contrast between the sweet promise of the spring and this sinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companion sat in the front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down over his eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the deepest thought. Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed over the meadows.
“Look there! ” said he.
A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, thickening into a grove at the highest point. From amid the branches there jutted out the grey gables and high roof-tree of a very old mansion.
“Stoke Moran? ” said he.
“Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, ” remarked the driver.
“There is some building going on there, ” said Holmes; “that is where we are going.”
“There’s the village, ” said the driver, pointing to a cluster of roofs some distance to the left; “but if you want to get to the house, you’ll find it shorter to get over this stile, and so by the footpath over the fields. There it is, where the lady is walking.”
“And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner, ” observed Holmes, shading his eyes. “Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest.”
We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way to Leatherhead.
“I thought it as well, ” said Holmes as we climbed the stile, “that this fellow should think we had come here as architects, or on some definite business. It may stop his gossip. Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner. You see that we have been as good as our word.”
Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with a face which spoke her joy. “I have been waiting so eagerly for you, ” she cried, shaking hands with us warmly. “All has turned out splendidly. Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely that he will be back before evening.”
“We have had the pleasure of making the Doctor’s acquaintance, ” said Holmes, and in a few words he sketched out what had occurred. Miss Stoner turned white to the lips as she listened.
“Good heavens! ” she cried, “he has followed me, then.”
“So it appears.”
“He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. What will he say when he returns? ”
“He must guard himself, for he may find that there is someone more cunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourself up from him to-night. If he is violent, we shall take you away to your aunt’s at Harrow. Now, we must make the best use of our time, so kindly take us at once to the rooms which we are to examine.”
The building was of grey, lichen-blotched stone, with a high central portion and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab, thrown out on each side. In one of these wings the windows were broken and blocked with wooden boards, while the roof was partly caved in, a picture of ruin. The central portion was in little better repair, but the right-hand block was comparatively modern, and the blinds in the windows, with the blue smoke curling up from the chimneys, showed that this was where the family resided. Some scaffolding had been erected against the end wall, and the stone-work had been broken into, but there were no signs of any workmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes walked slowly up and down the ill-trimmed lawn and examined with deep attention the outsides of the windows.
“This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep, the centre one to your sister’s, and the one next to the main building to Dr. Roylott’s chamber? ”
“Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one.”
“Pending the alterations, as I understand. By the way, there does not seem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end wall.”
“There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me from my room.”
“Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow wing runs the corridor from which these three rooms open. There are windows in it, of course? ”
“Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to pass through.”
“As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms were unapproachable from that side. Now, would you have the kindness to go into your room and bar your shutters? ”
Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination through the open window, endeavoured in every way to force the shutter open, but without success. There was no slit through which a knife could be passed to raise the bar. Then with his lens he tested the hinges, but they were of solid iron, built firmly into the massive masonry. “Hum! ” said he, scratching his chin in some perplexity, “my theory certainly presents some difficulties. No one could pass these shutters if they were bolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws any light upon the matter.”
A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from which the three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the third chamber, so we passed at once to the second, that in which Miss Stoner was now sleeping, and in which her sister had met with her fate. It was a homely little room, with a low ceiling and a gaping fireplace, after the fashion of old country-houses. A brown chest of drawers stood in one corner, a narrow white-counterpaned bed in another, and a dressing-table on the left-hand side of the window. These articles, with two small wicker-work chairs, made up all the furniture in the room save for a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards round and the panelling of the walls were of brown, worm-eaten oak, so old and discoloured that it may have dated from the original building of the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner and sat silent, while his eyes travelled round and round and up and down, taking in every detail of the apartment.
“Where does that bell communicate with? ” he asked at last pointing to a thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed, the tassel actually lying upon the pillow.
“It goes to the housekeeper’s room.”
“It looks newer than the other things? ”
“Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago.”
“Your sister asked for it, I suppose? ”
“No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what we wanted for ourselves.”
“Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there. You will excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as to this floor.” He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in his hand and crawled swiftly backward and forward, examining minutely the cracks between the boards. Then he did the same with the wood-work with which the chamber was panelled. Finally he walked over to the bed and spent some time in staring at it and in running his eye up and down the wall. Finally he took the bell-rope in his hand and gave it a brisk tug.
“Why, it’s a dummy, ” said he.
“Won’t it ring? ”
“No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting. You can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above where the little opening for the ventilator is.”
“How very absurd! I never noticed that before.”
“Very strange! ” muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. “There are one or two very singular points about this room. For example, what a fool a builder must be to open a ventilator into another room, when, with the same trouble, he might have communicated with the outside air! ”
“That is also quite modern, ” said the lady.
“Done about the same time as the bell-rope? ” remarked Holmes.
“Yes, there were several little changes carried out about that time.”
“They seem to have been of a most interesting character—dummy bell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With your permission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches into the inner apartment.”
Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s chamber was larger than that of his step-daughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a small wooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an armchair beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a round table, and a large iron safe were the principal things which met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined each and all of them with the keenest interest.
“What’s in here? ” he asked, tapping the safe.
“My stepfather’s business papers.”
“Oh! you have seen inside, then? ”
“Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of papers.”
“There isn’t a cat in it, for example? ”
“No. What a strange idea! ”
“Well, look at this! ” He took up a small saucer of milk which stood on the top of it.
“No; we don’t keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon.”
“Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet a saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I daresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine.” He squatted down in front of the wooden chair and examined the seat of it with the greatest attention.
“Thank you. That is quite settled, ” said he, rising and putting his lens in his pocket. “Hullo! Here is something interesting! ”
The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung on one corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself and tied so as to make a loop of whipcord.
“What do you make of that, Watson? ”
“It’s a common enough lash. But I don’t know why it should be tied.”
“That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it’s a wicked world, and when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worst of all. I think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, and with your permission we shall walk out upon the lawn.”
I had never seen my friend’s face so grim or his brow so dark as it was when we turned from the scene of this investigation. We had walked several times up and down the lawn, neither Miss Stoner nor myself liking to break in upon his thoughts before he roused himself from his reverie.
“It is very essential, Miss Stoner, ” said he, “that you should absolutely follow my advice in every respect.”
“I shall most certainly do so.”
“The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may depend upon your compliance.”
“I assure you that I am in your hands.”
“In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night in your room.”
Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment.
“Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the village inn over there? ”
“Yes, that is the Crown.”
“Very good. Your windows would be visible from there? ”
“Certainly.”
“You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a headache, when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear him retire for the night, you must open the shutters of your window, undo the hasp, put your lamp there as a signal to us, and then withdraw quietly with everything which you are likely to want into the room which you used to occupy. I have no doubt that, in spite of the repairs, you could manage there for one night.”
“Oh, yes, easily.”
“The rest you will leave in our hands.”
“But what will you do? ”
“We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigate the cause of this noise which has disturbed you.”
“I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind, ” said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion’s sleeve.
“Perhaps I have.”
“Then, for pity’s sake, tell me what was the cause of my sister’s death.”
“I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak.”
“You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and if she died from some sudden fright.”
“No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some more tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you for if Dr. Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in vain. Good-bye, and be brave, for if you will do what I have told you, you may rest assured that we shall soon drive away the dangers that threaten you.”
Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom and sitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, and from our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and of the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw Dr. Grimesby Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside the little figure of the lad who drove him. The boy had some slight difficulty in undoing the heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of the Doctor’s voice and saw the fury with which he shook his clinched fists at him. The trap drove on, and a few minutes later we saw a sudden light spring up among the trees as the lamp was lit in one of the sitting-rooms.
“Do you know, Watson, ” said Holmes as we sat together in the gathering darkness, “I have really some scruples as to taking you to-night. There is a distinct element of danger.”
“Can I be of assistance? ”
“Your presence might be invaluable.”
“Then I shall certainly come.”
“It is very kind of you.”
“You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these rooms than was visible to me.”
“No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine that you saw all that I did.”
“I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose that could answer I confess is more than I can imagine.”
“You saw the ventilator, too? ”
“Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to have a small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a rat could hardly pass through.”
“I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to Stoke Moran.”
“My dear Holmes! ”
“Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her sister could smell Dr. Roylott’s cigar. Now, of course that suggested at once that there must be a communication between the two rooms. It could only be a small one, or it would have been remarked upon at the coroner’s inquiry. I deduced a ventilator.”
“But what harm can there be in that? ”
“Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A ventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed dies. Does not that strike you? ”
“I cannot as yet see any connection.”
“Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed? ”
“No.”
“It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened like that before? ”
“I cannot say that I have.”
“The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the same relative position to the ventilator and to the rope—or so we may call it, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull.”
“Holmes, ” I cried, “I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. We are only just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible crime.”
“Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong he is the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of their profession. This man strikes even deeper, but I think, Watson, that we shall be able to strike deeper still. But we shall have horrors enough before the night is over; for goodness’ sake let us have a quiet pipe and turn our minds for a few hours to something more cheerful.”
About nine o’clock the light among the trees was extinguished, and all was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours passed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of eleven, a single bright light shone out right in front of us.
“That is our signal, ” said Holmes, springing to his feet; “it comes from the middle window.”
As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord, explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance, and that it was possible that we might spend the night there. A moment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us through the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.
There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepaired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among the trees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about to enter through the window when out from a clump of laurel bushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted child, who threw itself upon the grass with writhing limbs and then ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness.
“My God! ” I whispered; “did you see it? ”
Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh and put his lips to my ear.
“It is a nice household, ” he murmured. “That is the baboon.”
I had forgotten the strange pets which the Doctor affected. There was a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders at any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, after following Holmes’ example and slipping off my shoes, I found myself inside the bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed the shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had seen it in the daytime. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, he whispered into my ear again so gently that it was all that I could do to distinguish the words:
“The least sound would be fatal to our plans.”
I nodded to show that I had heard.
“We must sit without light. He would see it through the ventilator.”
I nodded again.
“Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of the bed, and you in that chair.”
I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.
Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the stump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left in darkness.
How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my companion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same state of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut off the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness.
From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at our very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter of an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, and one and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently for whatever might befall.
Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the direction of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was succeeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle sound of movement, and then all was silent once more, though the smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining ears. Then suddenly another sound became audible—a very gentle, soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escaping continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with his cane at the bell-pull.
“You see it, Watson? ” he yelled. “You see it? ”
But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was at which my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his face was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing. He had ceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator when suddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it had died away into the silence from which it rose.
“What can it mean? ” I gasped.
“It means that it is all over, ” Holmes answered. “And perhaps, after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will enter Dr. Roylott’s room.”
With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the corridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply from within. Then he turned the handle and entered, I at his heels, with the cocked pistol in my hand.
It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a dark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant beam of light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar. Beside this table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott clad in a long grey dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers. Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash which we had noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward and his eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band, with brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round his head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion.
“The band! the speckled band! ” whispered Holmes.
I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear began to move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent.
“It is a swamp adder! ” cried Holmes; “the deadliest snake in India. He has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another. Let us thrust this creature back into its den, and we can then remove Miss Stoner to some place of shelter and let the county police know what has happened.”
As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead man’s lap, and throwing the noose round the reptile’s neck he drew it from its horrid perch and, carrying it at arm’s length, threw it into the iron safe, which he closed upon it.
Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a narrative which has already run to too great a length by telling how we broke the sad news to the terrified girl, how we conveyed her by the morning train to the care of her good aunt at Harrow, of how the slow process of official inquiry came to the conclusion that the doctor met his fate while indiscreetly playing with a dangerous pet. The little which I had yet to learn of the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled back next day.
“I had, ” said he, “come to an entirely erroneous conclusion which shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason from insufficient data. The presence of the gipsies, and the use of the word ‘band, ’ which was used by the poor girl, no doubt, to explain the appearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse of by the light of her match, were sufficient to put me upon an entirely wrong scent. I can only claim the merit that I instantly reconsidered my position when, however, it became clear to me that whatever danger threatened an occupant of the room could not come either from the window or the door. My attention was speedily drawn, as I have already remarked to you, to this ventilator, and to the bell-rope which hung down to the bed. The discovery that this was a dummy, and that the bed was clamped to the floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the rope was there as a bridge for something passing through the hole and coming to the bed. The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me, and when I coupled it with my knowledge that the doctor was furnished with a supply of creatures from India, I felt that I was probably on the right track. The idea of using a form of poison which could not possibly be discovered by any chemical test was just such a one as would occur to a clever and ruthless man who had had an Eastern training. The rapidity with which such a poison would take effect would also, from his point of view, be an advantage. It would be a sharp-eyed coroner, indeed, who could distinguish the two little dark punctures which would show where the poison fangs had done their work. Then I thought of the whistle. Of course he must recall the snake before the morning light revealed it to the victim. He had trained it, probably by the use of the milk which we saw, to return to him when summoned. He would put it through this ventilator at the hour that he thought best, with the certainty that it would crawl down the rope and land on the bed. It might or might not bite the occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, but sooner or later she must fall a victim.
“I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered his room. An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in the habit of standing on it, which of course would be necessary in order that he should reach the ventilator. The sight of the safe, the saucer of milk, and the loop of whipcord were enough to finally dispel any doubts which may have remained. The metallic clang heard by Miss Stoner was obviously caused by her stepfather hastily closing the door of his safe upon its terrible occupant. Having once made up my mind, you know the steps which I took in order to put the matter to the proof. I heard the creature hiss as I have no doubt that you did also, and I instantly lit the light and attacked it.”
“With the result of driving it through the ventilator.”
“And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master at the other side. Some of the blows of my cane came home and roused its snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person it saw. In this way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s death, and I cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon my conscience.”
IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER’S THUMB
Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, there were only two which I was the means of introducing to his notice—that of Mr. Hatherley’s thumb, and that of Colonel Warburton’s madness. Of these the latter may have afforded a finer field for an acute and original observer, but the other was so strange in its inception and so dramatic in its details that it may be the more worthy of being placed upon record, even if it gave my friend fewer openings for those deductive methods of reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable results. The story has, I believe, been told more than once in the newspapers, but, like all such narratives, its effect is much less striking when set forth _en bloc_ in a single half-column of print than when the facts slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery clears gradually away as each new discovery furnishes a step which leads on to the complete truth. At the time the circumstances made a deep impression upon me, and the lapse of two years has hardly served to weaken the effect.
It was in the summer of ’89, not long after my marriage, that the events occurred which I am now about to summarise. I had returned to civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker Street rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally even persuaded him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come and visit us. My practice had steadily increased, and as I happened to live at no very great distance from Paddington Station, I got a few patients from among the officials. One of these, whom I had cured of a painful and lingering disease, was never weary of advertising my virtues and of endeavouring to send me on every sufferer over whom he might have any influence.
One morning, at a little before seven o’clock, I was awakened by the maid tapping at the door to announce that two men had come from Paddington and were waiting in the consulting-room. I dressed hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases were seldom trivial, and hastened downstairs. As I descended, my old ally, the guard, came out of the room and closed the door tightly behind him.
“I’ve got him here, ” he whispered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder; “he’s all right.”
“What is it, then? ” I asked, for his manner suggested that it was some strange creature which he had caged up in my room.
“It’s a new patient, ” he whispered. “I thought I’d bring him round myself; then he couldn’t slip away. There he is, all safe and sound. I must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties, just the same as you.” And off he went, this trusty tout, without even giving me time to thank him.
I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the table. He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft cloth cap which he had laid down upon my books. Round one of his hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all over with bloodstains. He was young, not more than five-and-twenty, I should say, with a strong, masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale and gave me the impression of a man who was suffering from some strong agitation, which it took all his strength of mind to control.
“I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor, ” said he, “but I have had a very serious accident during the night. I came in by train this morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I might find a doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me here. I gave the maid a card, but I see that she has left it upon the side-table.”
I took it up and glanced at it. “Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic engineer, 16A, Victoria Street (3rd floor).” That was the name, style, and abode of my morning visitor. “I regret that I have kept you waiting, ” said I, sitting down in my library-chair. “You are fresh from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself a monotonous occupation.”
“Oh, my night could not be called monotonous, ” said he, and laughed. He laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, leaning back in his chair and shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up against that laugh.
“Stop it! ” I cried; “pull yourself together! ” and I poured out some water from a caraffe.
It was useless, however. He was off in one of those hysterical outbursts which come upon a strong nature when some great crisis is over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more, very weary and pale-looking.
“I have been making a fool of myself, ” he gasped.
“Not at all. Drink this.” I dashed some brandy into the water, and the colour began to come back to his bloodless cheeks.
“That’s better! ” said he. “And now, Doctor, perhaps you would kindly attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb used to be.”
He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even my hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four protruding fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the thumb should have been. It had been hacked or torn right out from the roots.
“Good heavens! ” I cried, “this is a terrible injury. It must have bled considerably.”
“Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must have been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that it was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very tightly round the wrist and braced it up with a twig.”
“Excellent! You should have been a surgeon.”
“It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own province.”
“This has been done, ” said I, examining the wound, “by a very heavy and sharp instrument.”
“A thing like a cleaver, ” said he.
“An accident, I presume? ”
“By no means.”
“What! a murderous attack? ”
“Very murderous indeed.”
“You horrify me.”
I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered it over with cotton wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back without wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time.
“How is that? ” I asked when I had finished.
“Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man. I was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through.”
“Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently trying to your nerves.”
“Oh, no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but, between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing evidence of this wound of mine, I should be surprised if they believed my statement, for it is a very extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up; and, even if they believe me, the clues which I can give them are so vague that it is a question whether justice will be done.”
“Ha! ” cried I, “if it is anything in the nature of a problem which you desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you to come to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, before you go to the official police.”
“Oh, I have heard of that fellow, ” answered my visitor, “and I should be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of course I must use the official police as well. Would you give me an introduction to him? ”
“I’ll do better. I’ll take you round to him myself.”
“I should be immensely obliged to you.”
“We’ll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to have a little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it? ”
“Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story.”
“Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an instant.” I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my wife, and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my new acquaintance to Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of _The Times_ and smoking his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed of all the plugs and dottles left from his smokes of the day before, all carefully dried and collected on the corner of the mantelpiece. He received us in his quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us in a hearty meal. When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of brandy and water within his reach.
“It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr. Hatherley, ” said he. “Pray, lie down there and make yourself absolutely at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired and keep up your strength with a little stimulant.”
“Thank you, ” said my patient, “but I have felt another man since the doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so I shall start at once upon my peculiar experiences.”
Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to him, and we listened in silence to the strange story which our visitor detailed to us.
“You must know, ” said he, “that I am an orphan and a bachelor, residing alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am a hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable experience of my work during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the well-known firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago, having served my time, and having also come into a fair sum of money through my poor father’s death, I determined to start in business for myself and took professional chambers in Victoria Street.
“I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in business a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. During two years I have had three consultations and one small job, and that is absolutely all that my profession has brought me. My gross takings amount to £ 27 10_s_. Every day, from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to believe that I should never have any practice at all.
“Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office, my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with the name of ‘Colonel Lysander Stark’ engraved upon it. Close at his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle size, but of an exceeding thinness. I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a man. His whole face sharpened away into nose and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn quite tense over his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was bright, his step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than thirty.
“‘Mr. Hatherley? ’ said he, with something of a German accent. ‘You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not only proficient in his profession but is also discreet and capable of preserving a secret.’
“I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an address. ‘May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character? ’
“‘Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just at this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both an orphan and a bachelor and are residing alone in London.’
“‘That is quite correct, ’ I answered; ‘but you will excuse me if I say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional qualifications. I understand that it was on a professional matter that you wished to speak to me? ’
“‘Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to the point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy is quite essential—absolute secrecy, you understand, and of course we may expect that more from a man who is alone than from one who lives in the bosom of his family.’
“‘If I promise to keep a secret, ’ said I, ‘you may absolutely depend upon my doing so.’
“He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I had never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye.
“‘Do you promise, then? ’ said he at last.
“‘Yes, I promise.’
“‘Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing? ’
“‘I have already given you my word.’
“‘Very good.’ He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning across the room he flung open the door. The passage outside was empty.
“‘That’s all right, ’ said he, coming back. ‘I know that clerks are sometimes curious as to their master’s affairs. Now we can talk in safety.’ He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stare at me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look.
“A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun to rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. Even my dread of losing a client could not restrain me from showing my impatience.
“‘I beg that you will state your business, sir, ’ said I; ‘my time is of value.’ Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the words came to my lips.
“‘How would fifty guineas for a night’s work suit you? ’ he asked.
“‘Most admirably.’
“‘I say a night’s work, but an hour’s would be nearer the mark. I simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which has got out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon set it right ourselves. What do you think of such a commission as that? ’
“‘The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.’
“‘Precisely so. We shall want you to come to-night by the last train.’
“‘Where to? ’
“‘To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders of Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a train from Paddington which would bring you there at about 11:15.’
“‘Very good.’
“‘I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.’
“‘There is a drive, then? ’
“‘Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good seven miles from Eyford Station.’
“‘Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there would be no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop the night.’
“‘Yes, we could easily give you a shake-down.’
“‘That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient hour? ’
“‘We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to recompense you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a young and unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the very heads of your profession. Still, of course, if you would like to draw out of the business, there is plenty of time to do so.’
“I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they would be to me. ‘Not at all, ’ said I, ‘I shall be very happy to accommodate myself to your wishes. I should like, however, to understand a little more clearly what it is that you wish me to do.’
“‘Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecy which we have exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity. I have no wish to commit you to anything without your having it all laid before you. I suppose that we are absolutely safe from eavesdroppers? ’
“‘Entirely.’
“‘Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that fuller’s-earth is a valuable product, and that it is only found in one or two places in England? ’
“‘I have heard so.’
“‘Some little time ago I bought a small place—a very small place—within ten miles of Reading. I was fortunate enough to discover that there was a deposit of fuller’s-earth in one of my fields. On examining it, however, I found that this deposit was a comparatively small one, and that it formed a link between two very much larger ones upon the right and left—both of them, however, in the grounds of my neighbours. These good people were absolutely ignorant that their land contained that which was quite as valuable as a gold-mine. Naturally, it was to my interest to buy their land before they discovered its true value, but unfortunately I had no capital by which I could do this. I took a few of my friends into the secret, however, and they suggested that we should quietly and secretly work our own little deposit and that in this way we should earn the money which would enable us to buy the neighbouring fields. This we have now been doing for some time, and in order to help us in our operations we erected a hydraulic press. This press, as I have already explained, has got out of order, and we wish your advice upon the subject. We guard our secret very jealously, however, and if it once became known that we had hydraulic engineers coming to our little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, if the facts came out, it would be good-bye to any chance of getting these fields and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you promise me that you will not tell a human being that you are going to Eyford to-night. I hope that I make it all plain? ’
“‘I quite follow you, ’ said I. ‘The only point which I could not quite understand was what use you could make of a hydraulic press in excavating fuller’s-earth, which, as I understand, is dug out like gravel from a pit.’
“‘Ah! ’ said he carelessly, ‘we have our own process. We compress the earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing what they are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully into my confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I trust you.’ He rose as he spoke. ‘I shall expect you, then, at Eyford at 11:15.’
“‘I shall certainly be there.’
“‘And not a word to a soul.’ He looked at me with a last long, questioning gaze, and then, pressing my hand in a cold, dank grasp, he hurried from the room.
“Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very much astonished, as you may both think, at this sudden commission which had been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of course, I was glad, for the fee was at least tenfold what I should have asked had I set a price upon my own services, and it was possible that this order might lead to other ones. On the other hand, the face and manner of my patron had made an unpleasant impression upon me, and I could not think that his explanation of the fuller’s-earth was sufficient to explain the necessity for my coming at midnight, and his extreme anxiety lest I should tell anyone of my errand. However, I threw all fears to the winds, ate a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and started off, having obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding my tongue.
“At Reading I had to change not only my carriage but my station. However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I reached the little dim-lit station after eleven o’clock. I was the only passenger who got out there, and there was no one upon the platform save a single sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed out through the wicket gate, however, I found my acquaintance of the morning waiting in the shadow upon the other side. Without a word he grasped my arm and hurried me into a carriage, the door of which was standing open. He drew up the windows on either side, tapped on the wood-work, and away we went as fast as the horse could go.”
“One horse? ” interjected Holmes.
“Yes, only one.”
“Did you observe the colour? ”
“Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was stepping into the carriage. It was a chestnut.”
“Tired-looking or fresh? ”
“Oh, fresh and glossy.”
“Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue your most interesting statement.”
“Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour. Colonel Lysander Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I should think, from the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time that we took, that it must have been nearer twelve. He sat at my side in silence all the time, and I was aware, more than once when I glanced in his direction, that he was looking at me with great intensity. The country roads seem to be not very good in that part of the world, for we lurched and jolted terribly. I tried to look out of the windows to see something of where we were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I could make out nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey, but the colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the conversation soon flagged. At last, however, the bumping of the road was exchanged for the crisp smoothness of a gravel-drive, and the carriage came to a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me swiftly into a porch which gaped in front of us. We stepped, as it were, right out of the carriage and into the hall, so that I failed to catch the most fleeting glance of the front of the house. The instant that I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily behind us, and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage drove away.
“It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled about looking for matches and muttering under his breath. Suddenly a door opened at the other end of the passage, and a long, golden bar of light shot out in our direction. It grew broader, and a woman appeared with a lamp in her hand, which she held above her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us. I could see that she was pretty, and from the gloss with which the light shone upon her dark dress I knew that it was a rich material. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a tone as though asking a question, and when my companion answered in a gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly fell from her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered something in her ear, and then, pushing her back into the room from whence she had come, he walked towards me again with the lamp in his hand.
“‘Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a few minutes, ’ said he, throwing open another door. It was a quiet, little, plainly furnished room, with a round table in the centre, on which several German books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down the lamp on the top of a harmonium beside the door. ‘I shall not keep you waiting an instant, ’ said he, and vanished into the darkness.
“I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my ignorance of German I could see that two of them were treatises on science, the others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked across to the window, hoping that I might catch some glimpse of the country-side, but an oak shutter, heavily barred, was folded across it. It was a wonderfully silent house. There was an old clock ticking loudly somewhere in the passage, but otherwise everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began to steal over me. Who were these German people, and what were they doing living in this strange, out-of-the-way place? And where was the place? I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was all I knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I had no idea. For that matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns, were within that radius, so the place might not be so secluded, after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute stillness, that we were in the country. I paced up and down the room, humming a tune under my breath to keep up my spirits and feeling that I was thoroughly earning my fifty-guinea fee.
“Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the utter stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman was standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind her, the yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and beautiful face. I could see at a glance that she was sick with fear, and the sight sent a chill to my own heart. She held up one shaking finger to warn me to be silent, and she shot a few whispered words of broken English at me, her eyes glancing back, like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom behind her.
“‘I would go, ’ said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to speak calmly; ‘I would go. I should not stay here. There is no good for you to do.’
“‘But, madam, ’ said I, ‘I have not yet done what I came for. I cannot possibly leave until I have seen the machine.’
“‘It is not worth your while to wait, ’ she went on. ‘You can pass through the door; no one hinders.’ And then, seeing that I smiled and shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her constraint and made a step forward, with her hands wrung together. ‘For the love of Heaven! ’ she whispered, ‘get away from here before it is too late! ’
“But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to engage in an affair when there is some obstacle in the way. I thought of my fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of the unpleasant night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to go for nothing? Why should I slink away without having carried out my commission, and without the payment which was my due? This woman might, for all I knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout bearing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I cared to confess, I still shook my head and declared my intention of remaining where I was. She was about to renew her entreaties when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of several footsteps was heard upon the stairs. She listened for an instant, threw up her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and as noiselessly as she had come.
“The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man with a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double chin, who was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson.
“‘This is my secretary and manager, ’ said the colonel. ‘By the way, I was under the impression that I left this door shut just now. I fear that you have felt the draught.’
“‘On the contrary, ’ said I, ‘I opened the door myself because I felt the room to be a little close.’
“He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. ‘Perhaps we had better proceed to business, then, ’ said he. ‘Mr. Ferguson and I will take you up to see the machine.’
“‘I had better put my hat on, I suppose.’
“‘Oh, no, it is in the house.’
“‘What, you dig fuller’s-earth in the house? ’
“‘No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that. All we wish you to do is to examine the machine and to let us know what is wrong with it.’
“We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the fat manager and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house, with corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the generations who had crossed them. There were no carpets and no signs of any furniture above the ground floor, while the plaster was peeling off the walls, and the damp was breaking through in green, unhealthy blotches. I tried to put on as unconcerned an air as possible, but I had not forgotten the warnings of the lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen eye upon my two companions. Ferguson appeared to be a morose and silent man, but I could see from the little that he said that he was at least a fellow-countryman.
“Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which he unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three of us could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained outside, and the colonel ushered me in.
“‘We are now, ’ said he, ‘actually within the hydraulic press, and it would be a particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were to turn it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is really the end of the descending piston, and it comes down with the force of many tons upon this metal floor. There are small lateral columns of water outside which receive the force, and which transmit and multiply it in the manner which is familiar to you. The machine goes readily enough, but there is some stiffness in the working of it, and it has lost a little of its force. Perhaps you will have the goodness to look it over and to show us how we can set it right.’
“I took the lamp from him, and I examined the machine very thoroughly. It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of exercising enormous pressure. When I passed outside, however, and pressed down the levers which controlled it, I knew at once by the whishing sound that there was a slight leakage, which allowed a regurgitation of water through one of the side cylinders. An examination showed that one of the india-rubber bands which was round the head of a driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to fill the socket along which it worked. This was clearly the cause of the loss of power, and I pointed it out to my companions, who followed my remarks very carefully and asked several practical questions as to how they should proceed to set it right. When I had made it clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of the machine and took a good look at it to satisfy my own curiosity. It was obvious at a glance that the story of the fuller’s-earth was the merest fabrication, for it would be absurd to suppose that so powerful an engine could be designed for so inadequate a purpose. The walls were of wood, but the floor consisted of a large iron trough, and when I came to examine it I could see a crust of metallic deposit all over it. I had stooped and was scraping at this to see exactly what it was when I heard a muttered exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of the colonel looking down at me.
“‘What are you doing there? ’ he asked.
“I felt angry at having been tricked by so elaborate a story as that which he had told me. ‘I was admiring your fuller’s-earth, ’ said I; ‘I think that I should be better able to advise you as to your machine if I knew what the exact purpose was for which it was used.’
“The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of my speech. His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in his grey eyes.
“‘Very well, ’ said he, ‘you shall know all about the machine.’ He took a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key in the lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it was quite secure, and did not give in the least to my kicks and shoves. ‘Hullo! ’ I yelled. ‘Hullo! Colonel! Let me out! ’
“And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my heart into my mouth. It was the clank of the levers and the swish of the leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work. The lamp still stood upon the floor where I had placed it when examining the trough. By its light I saw that the black ceiling was coming down upon me, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than myself, with a force which must within a minute grind me to a shapeless pulp. I threw myself, screaming, against the door, and dragged with my nails at the lock. I implored the colonel to let me out, but the remorseless clanking of the levers drowned my cries. The ceiling was only a foot or two above my head, and with my hand upraised I could feel its hard, rough surface. Then it flashed through my mind that the pain of my death would depend very much upon the position in which I met it. If I lay on my face the weight would come upon my spine, and I shuddered to think of that dreadful snap. Easier the other way, perhaps; and yet, had I the nerve to lie and look up at that deadly black shadow wavering down upon me? Already I was unable to stand erect, when my eye caught something which brought a gush of hope back to my heart.
“I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the walls were of wood. As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw a thin line of yellow light between two of the boards, which broadened and broadened as a small panel was pushed backward. For an instant I could hardly believe that here was indeed a door which led away from death. The next instant I threw myself through, and lay half-fainting upon the other side. The panel had closed again behind me, but the crash of the lamp, and a few moments afterwards the clang of the two slabs of metal, told me how narrow had been my escape.
“I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and I found myself lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, while a woman bent over me and tugged at me with her left hand, while she held a candle in her right. It was the same good friend whose warning I had so foolishly rejected.
“‘Come! come! ’ she cried breathlessly. ‘They will be here in a moment. They will see that you are not there. Oh, do not waste the so-precious time, but come! ’
“This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice. I staggered to my feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding stair. The latter led to another broad passage, and just as we reached it we heard the sound of running feet and the shouting of two voices, one answering the other from the floor on which we were and from the one beneath. My guide stopped and looked about her like one who is at her wit’s end. Then she threw open a door which led into a bedroom, through the window of which the moon was shining brightly.
“‘It is your only chance, ’ said she. ‘It is high, but it may be that you can jump it.’
“As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the passage, and I saw the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark rushing forward with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a butcher’s cleaver in the other. I rushed across the bedroom, flung open the window, and looked out. How quiet and sweet and wholesome the garden looked in the moonlight, and it could not be more than thirty feet down. I clambered out upon the sill, but I hesitated to jump until I should have heard what passed between my saviour and the ruffian who pursued me. If she were ill-used, then at any risks I was determined to go back to her assistance. The thought had hardly flashed through my mind before he was at the door, pushing his way past her; but she threw her arms round him and tried to hold him back.
“‘Fritz! Fritz! ’ she cried in English, ‘remember your promise after the last time. You said it should not be again. He will be silent! Oh, he will be silent! ’
“‘You are mad, Elise! ’ he shouted, struggling to break away from her. ‘You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much. Let me pass, I say! ’ He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the window, cut at me with his heavy weapon. I had let myself go, and was hanging by the hands to the sill, when his blow fell. I was conscious of a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into the garden below.
“I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I picked myself up and rushed off among the bushes as hard as I could run, for I understood that I was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly, however, as I ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me. I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and then, for the first time, saw that my thumb had been cut off and that the blood was pouring from my wound. I endeavoured to tie my handkerchief round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint among the rose-bushes.
“How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell. It must have been a very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were all sodden with dew, and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded thumb. The smarting of it recalled in an instant all the particulars of my night’s adventure, and I sprang to my feet with the feeling that I might hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But to my astonishment, when I came to look round me, neither house nor garden were to be seen. I had been lying in an angle of the hedge close by the high road, and just a little lower down was a long building, which proved, upon my approaching it, to be the very station at which I had arrived upon the previous night. Were it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed during those dreadful hours might have been an evil dream.
“Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning train. There would be one to Reading in less than an hour. The same porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I arrived. I inquired of him whether he had ever heard of Colonel Lysander Stark. The name was strange to him. Had he observed a carriage the night before waiting for me? No, he had not. Was there a police-station anywhere near? There was one about three miles off.
“It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was. I determined to wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the police. It was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first to have my wound dressed, and then the doctor was kind enough to bring me along here. I put the case into your hands and shall do exactly what you advise.”
We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down from the shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he placed his cuttings.
“Here is an advertisement which will interest you, ” said he. “It appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this: ‘Lost, on the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged twenty-six, a hydraulic engineer. Left his lodgings at ten o’clock at night, and has not been heard of since. Was dressed in, ’ etc., etc. Ha! That represents the last time that the colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I fancy.”
“Good heavens! ” cried my patient. “Then that explains what the girl said.”
“Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and desperate man, who was absolutely determined that nothing should stand in the way of his little game, like those out-and-out pirates who will leave no survivor from a captured ship. Well, every moment now is precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall go down to Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary to starting for Eyford.”
Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train together, bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village. There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself. Bradstreet had spread an ordnance map of the county out upon the seat and was busy with his compasses drawing a circle with Eyford for its centre.
“There you are, ” said he. “That circle is drawn at a radius of ten miles from the village. The place we want must be somewhere near that line. You said ten miles, I think, sir.”
“It was an hour’s good drive.”
“And you think that they brought you back all that way when you were unconscious? ”
“They must have done so. I have a confused memory, too, of having been lifted and conveyed somewhere.”
“What I cannot understand, ” said I, “is why they should have spared you when they found you lying fainting in the garden. Perhaps the villain was softened by the woman’s entreaties.”
“I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face in my life.”
“Oh, we shall soon clear up all that, ” said Bradstreet. “Well, I have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon it the folk that we are in search of are to be found.”
“I think I could lay my finger on it, ” said Holmes quietly.
“Really, now! ” cried the inspector, “you have formed your opinion! Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say it is south, for the country is more deserted there.”
“And I say east, ” said my patient.
“I am for west, ” remarked the plain-clothes man. “There are several quiet little villages up there.”
“And I am for north, ” said I, “because there are no hills there, and our friend says that he did not notice the carriage go up any.”
“Come, ” cried the inspector, laughing; “it’s a very pretty diversity of opinion. We have boxed the compass among us. Who do you give your casting vote to? ”
“You are all wrong.”
“But we can’t all be.”
“Oh, yes, you can. This is my point.” He placed his finger in the centre of the circle. “This is where we shall find them.”
“But the twelve-mile drive? ” gasped Hatherley.
“Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the horse was fresh and glossy when you got in. How could it be that if it had gone twelve miles over heavy roads? ”
“Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough, ” observed Bradstreet thoughtfully. “Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature of this gang.”
“None at all, ” said Holmes. “They are coiners on a large scale, and have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the place of silver.”
“We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work, ” said the inspector. “They have been turning out half-crowns by the thousand. We even traced them as far as Reading, but could get no farther, for they had covered their traces in a way that showed that they were very old hands. But now, thanks to this lucky chance, I think that we have got them right enough.”
But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not destined to fall into the hands of justice. As we rolled into Eyford Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed up from behind a small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and hung like an immense ostrich feather over the landscape.
“A house on fire? ” asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off again on its way.
“Yes, sir! ” said the station-master.
“When did it break out? ”
“I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse, and the whole place is in a blaze.”
“Whose house is it? ”
“Dr. Becher’s.”
“Tell me, ” broke in the engineer, “is Dr. Becher a German, very thin, with a long, sharp nose? ”
The station-master laughed heartily. “No, sir, Dr. Becher is an Englishman, and there isn’t a man in the parish who has a better-lined waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with him, a patient, as I understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as if a little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm.”
The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all hastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low hill, and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in front of us, spouting fire at every chink and window, while in the garden in front three fire-engines were vainly striving to keep the flames under.
“That’s it! ” cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. “There is the gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That second window is the one that I jumped from.”
“Well, at least, ” said Holmes, “you have had your revenge upon them. There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, when it was crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls, though no doubt they were too excited in the chase after you to observe it at the time. Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for your friends of last night, though I very much fear that they are a good hundred miles off by now.”
And Holmes’ fears came to be realised, for from that day to this no word has ever been heard either of the beautiful woman, the sinister German, or the morose Englishman. Early that morning a peasant had met a cart containing several people and some very bulky boxes driving rapidly in the direction of Reading, but there all traces of the fugitives disappeared, and even Holmes’ ingenuity failed ever to discover the least clue as to their whereabouts.
The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements which they had found within, and still more so by discovering a newly severed human thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor. About sunset, however, their efforts were at last successful, and they subdued the flames, but not before the roof had fallen in, and the whole place been reduced to such absolute ruin that, save some twisted cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained of the machinery which had cost our unfortunate acquaintance so dearly. Large masses of nickel and of tin were discovered stored in an out-house, but no coins were to be found, which may have explained the presence of those bulky boxes which have been already referred to.
How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to the spot where he recovered his senses might have remained forever a mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a very plain tale. He had evidently been carried down by two persons, one of whom had remarkably small feet and the other unusually large ones. On the whole, it was most probable that the silent Englishman, being less bold or less murderous than his companion, had assisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out of the way of danger.
“Well, ” said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return once more to London, “it has been a pretty business for me! I have lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what have I gained? ”
“Experience, ” said Holmes, laughing. “Indirectly it may be of value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your existence.”
X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR
The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have long ceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circles in which the unfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have eclipsed it, and their more piquant details have drawn the gossips away from this four-year-old drama. As I have reason to believe, however, that the full facts have never been revealed to the general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmes had a considerable share in clearing the matter up, I feel that no memoir of him would be complete without some little sketch of this remarkable episode.
It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when I was still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came home from an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the table waiting for him. I had remained indoors all day, for the weather had taken a sudden turn to rain, with high autumnal winds, and the jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of my limbs as a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence. With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last, saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all aside and lay listless, watching the huge crest and monogram upon the envelope upon the table and wondering lazily who my friend’s noble correspondent could be.
“Here is a very fashionable epistle, ” I remarked as he entered. “Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and a tide-waiter.”
“Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety, ” he answered, smiling, “and the humbler are usually the more interesting. This looks like one of those unwelcome social summonses which call upon a man either to be bored or to lie.”
He broke the seal and glanced over the contents.
“Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all.”
“Not social, then? ”
“No, distinctly professional.”
“And from a noble client? ”
“One of the highest in England.”
“My dear fellow, I congratulate you.”
“I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my client is a matter of less moment to me than the interest of his case. It is just possible, however, that that also may not be wanting in this new investigation. You have been reading the papers diligently of late, have you not? ”
“It looks like it, ” said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in the corner. “I have had nothing else to do.”
“It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I read nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The latter is always instructive. But if you have followed recent events so closely you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his wedding? ”
“Oh, yes, with the deepest interest.”
“That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord St. Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn over these papers and let me have whatever bears upon the matter. This is what he says:
“‘MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES, —Lord Backwater tells me that I may place implicit reliance upon your judgment and discretion. I have determined, therefore, to call upon you and to consult you in reference to the very painful event which has occurred in connection with my wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is acting already in the matter, but he assures me that he sees no objection to your co-operation, and that he even thinks that it might be of some assistance. I will call at four o’clock in the afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement at that time, I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is of paramount importance. Yours faithfully,
“‘罗伯特·圣西蒙。’
“It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, and the noble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink upon the outer side of his right little finger, ” remarked Holmes as he folded up the epistle.
“He says four o’clock. It is three now. He will be here in an hour.”
“Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon the subject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in their order of time, while I take a glance as to who our client is.” He picked a red-covered volume from a line of books of reference beside the mantelpiece. “Here he is, ” said he, sitting down and flattening it out upon his knee. “‘Lord Robert Walsingham de Vere St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral.’ Hum! ‘Arms: Azure, three caltrops in chief over a fess sable. Born in 1846.’ He’s forty-one years of age, which is mature for marriage. Was Under-Secretary for the colonies in a late administration. The Duke, his father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs. They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct descent, and Tudor on the distaff side. Ha! Well, there is nothing very instructive in all this. I think that I must turn to you Watson, for something more solid.”
“I have very little difficulty in finding what I want, ” said I, “for the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as remarkable. I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew that you had an inquiry on hand and that you disliked the intrusion of other matters.”
“Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square furniture van. That is quite cleared up now—though, indeed, it was obvious from the first. Pray give me the results of your newspaper selections.”
“Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal column of the _Morning Post_, and dates, as you see, some weeks back: ‘A marriage has been arranged, ’ it says, ‘and will, if rumour is correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty Doran, the only daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San Francisco, Cal., U.S.A.’ That is all.”
“Terse and to the point, ” remarked Holmes, stretching his long, thin legs towards the fire.
“There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society papers of the same week. Ah, here it is: ‘There will soon be a call for protection in the marriage market, for the present free-trade principle appears to tell heavily against our home product. One by one the management of the noble houses of Great Britain is passing into the hands of our fair cousins from across the Atlantic. An important addition has been made during the last week to the list of the prizes which have been borne away by these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself for over twenty years proof against the little god’s arrows, has now definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss Hatty Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire. Miss Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face attracted much attention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only child, and it is currently reported that her dowry will run to considerably over the six figures, with expectancies for the future. As it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has been compelled to sell his pictures within the last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has no property of his own save the small estate of Birchmoor, it is obvious that the Californian heiress is not the only gainer by an alliance which will enable her to make the easy and common transition from a Republican lady to a British peeress.’”
“Anything else? ” asked Holmes, yawning.
“Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the _Morning Post_ to say that the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that it would be at St. George’s, Hanover Square, that only half a dozen intimate friends would be invited, and that the party would return to the furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has been taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days later—that is, on Wednesday last—there is a curt announcement that the wedding had taken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at Lord Backwater’s place, near Petersfield. Those are all the notices which appeared before the disappearance of the bride.”
“Before the what? ” asked Holmes with a start.
“The vanishing of the lady.”
“When did she vanish, then? ”
“At the wedding breakfast.”
“Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quite dramatic, in fact.”
“Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common.”
“They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during the honeymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt as this. Pray let me have the details.”
“I warn you that they are very incomplete.”
“Perhaps we may make them less so.”
“Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a morning paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is headed, ‘Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding’:
“‘The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into the greatest consternation by the strange and painful episodes which have taken place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony, as shortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the previous morning; but it is only now that it has been possible to confirm the strange rumours which have been so persistently floating about. In spite of the attempts of the friends to hush the matter up, so much public attention has now been drawn to it that no good purpose can be served by affecting to disregard what is a common subject for conversation.
“‘The ceremony, which was performed at St. George’s, Hanover Square, was a very quiet one, no one being present save the father of the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral, Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (the younger brother and sister of the bridegroom), and Lady Alicia Whittington. The whole party proceeded afterwards to the house of Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had been prepared. It appears that some little trouble was caused by a woman, whose name has not been ascertained, who endeavoured to force her way into the house after the bridal party, alleging that she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only after a painful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the butler and the footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the house before this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfast with the rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition and retired to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused some comment, her father followed her, but learned from her maid that she had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up an ulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of the footmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the house thus apparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his mistress, believing her to be with the company. On ascertaining that his daughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction with the bridegroom, instantly put themselves in communication with the police, and very energetic inquiries are being made, which will probably result in a speedy clearing up of this very singular business. Up to a late hour last night, however, nothing had transpired as to the whereabouts of the missing lady. There are rumours of foul play in the matter, and it is said that the police have caused the arrest of the woman who had caused the original disturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or some other motive, she may have been concerned in the strange disappearance of the bride.’”
“And is that all? ”
“Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it is a suggestive one.”
“And it is—”
“That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance, has actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a _danseuse_ at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroom for some years. There are no further particulars, and the whole case is in your hands now—so far as it has been set forth in the public press.”
“And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would not have missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson, and as the clock makes it a few minutes after four, I have no doubt that this will prove to be our noble client. Do not dream of going, Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness, if only as a check to my own memory.”
“Lord Robert St. Simon, ” announced our page-boy, throwing open the door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, high-nosed and pale, with something perhaps of petulance about the mouth, and with the steady, well-opened eye of a man whose pleasant lot it had ever been to command and to be obeyed. His manner was brisk, and yet his general appearance gave an undue impression of age, for he had a slight forward stoop and a little bend of the knees as he walked. His hair, too, as he swept off his very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled round the edges and thin upon the top. As to his dress, it was careful to the verge of foppishness, with high collar, black frock-coat, white waistcoat, yellow gloves, patent-leather shoes, and light-coloured gaiters. He advanced slowly into the room, turning his head from left to right, and swinging in his right hand the cord which held his golden eyeglasses.
“Good-day, Lord St. Simon, ” said Holmes, rising and bowing. “Pray take the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk this matter over.”
“A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, Mr. Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you have already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir, though I presume that they were hardly from the same class of society.”
“No, I am descending.”
“I beg pardon.”
“My last client of the sort was a king.”
“Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king? ”
“The King of Scandinavia.”
“What! Had he lost his wife? ”
“You can understand, ” said Holmes suavely, “that I extend to the affairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise to you in yours.”
“Of course! Very right! very right! I’m sure I beg pardon. As to my own case, I am ready to give you any information which may assist you in forming an opinion.”
“Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the public prints, nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct—this article, for example, as to the disappearance of the bride.”
Lord St. Simon glanced over it. “Yes, it is correct, as far as it goes.”
“But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone could offer an opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts most directly by questioning you.”
“Pray do so.”
“When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran? ”
“In San Francisco, a year ago.”
“You were travelling in the States? ”
“Yes.”
“Did you become engaged then? ”
“No.”
“But you were on a friendly footing? ”
“I was amused by her society, and she could see that I was amused.”
“Her father is very rich? ”
“He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope.”
“And how did he make his money? ”
“In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold, invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds.”
“Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady’s—your wife’s character? ”
The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down into the fire. “You see, Mr. Holmes, ” said he, “my wife was twenty before her father became a rich man. During that time she ran free in a mining camp and wandered through woods or mountains, so that her education has come from Nature rather than from the schoolmaster. She is what we call in England a tomboy, with a strong nature, wild and free, unfettered by any sort of traditions. She is impetuous—volcanic, I was about to say. She is swift in making up her mind and fearless in carrying out her resolutions. On the other hand, I would not have given her the name which I have the honour to bear”—he gave a little stately cough—“had I not thought her to be at bottom a noble woman. I believe that she is capable of heroic self-sacrifice and that anything dishonourable would be repugnant to her.”
“Have you her photograph? ”
“I brought this with me.” He opened a locket and showed us the full face of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but an ivory miniature, and the artist had brought out the full effect of the lustrous black hair, the large dark eyes, and the exquisite mouth. Holmes gazed long and earnestly at it. Then he closed the locket and handed it back to Lord St. Simon.
“The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed your acquaintance? ”
“Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. I met her several times, became engaged to her, and have now married her.”
“She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry? ”
“A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family.”
“And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is a _fait accompli_? ”
“I really have made no inquiries on the subject.”
“Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before the wedding? ”
“Yes.”
“Was she in good spirits? ”
“Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in our future lives.”
“Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of the wedding? ”
“She was as bright as possible—at least until after the ceremony.”
“And did you observe any change in her then? ”
“Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had ever seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incident however, was too trivial to relate and can have no possible bearing upon the case.”
“Pray let us have it, for all that.”
“Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards the vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it fell over into the pew. There was a moment’s delay, but the gentleman in the pew handed it up to her again, and it did not appear to be the worse for the fall. Yet when I spoke to her of the matter, she answered me abruptly; and in the carriage, on our way home, she seemed absurdly agitated over this trifling cause.”
“Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of the general public were present, then? ”
“Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is open.”
“This gentleman was not one of your wife’s friends? ”
“No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite a common-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But really I think that we are wandering rather far from the point.”
“Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less cheerful frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do on re-entering her father’s house? ”
“I saw her in conversation with her maid.”
“And who is her maid? ”
“Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California with her.”
“A confidential servant? ”
“A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed her to take great liberties. Still, of course, in America they look upon these things in a different way.”
“How long did she speak to this Alice? ”
“Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of.”
“You did not overhear what they said? ”
“Lady St. Simon said something about ‘jumping a claim.’ She was accustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she meant.”
“American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your wife do when she finished speaking to her maid? ”
“She walked into the breakfast-room.”
“On your arm? ”
“No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that. Then, after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rose hurriedly, muttered some words of apology, and left the room. She never came back.”
“But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to her room, covered her bride’s dress with a long ulster, put on a bonnet, and went out.”
“Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park in company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who had already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran’s house that morning.”
“Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady, and your relations to her.”
Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. “We have been on a friendly footing for some years—I may say on a _very_ friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have not treated her ungenerously, and she had no just cause of complaint against me, but you know what women are, Mr. Holmes. Flora was a dear little thing, but exceedingly hot-headed and devotedly attached to me. She wrote me dreadful letters when she heard that I was about to be married, and, to tell the truth, the reason why I had the marriage celebrated so quietly was that I feared lest there might be a scandal in the church. She came to Mr. Doran’s door just after we returned, and she endeavoured to push her way in, uttering very abusive expressions towards my wife, and even threatening her, but I had foreseen the possibility of something of the sort, and I had two police fellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out again. She was quiet when she saw that there was no good in making a row.”
“Did your wife hear all this? ”
“No, thank goodness, she did not.”
“And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards? ”
“Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon as so serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid some terrible trap for her.”
“Well, it is a possible supposition.”
“You think so, too? ”
“I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look upon this as likely? ”
“I do not think Flora would hurt a fly.”
“Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray what is your own theory as to what took place? ”
“Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I have given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may say that it has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of this affair, the consciousness that she had made so immense a social stride, had the effect of causing some little nervous disturbance in my wife.”
“In short, that she had become suddenly deranged? ”
“Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back—I will not say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to without success—I can hardly explain it in any other fashion.”
“Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis, ” said Holmes, smiling. “And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have nearly all my data. May I ask whether you were seated at the breakfast-table so that you could see out of the window? ”
“We could see the other side of the road and the Park.”
“Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer. I shall communicate with you.”
“Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem, ” said our client, rising.
“I have solved it.”
“Eh? What was that? ”
“I say that I have solved it.”
“Where, then, is my wife? ”
“That is a detail which I shall speedily supply.”
Lord St. Simon shook his head. “I am afraid that it will take wiser heads than yours or mine, ” he remarked, and bowing in a stately, old-fashioned manner he departed.
“It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting it on a level with his own, ” said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. “I think that I shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after all this cross-questioning. I had formed my conclusions as to the case before our client came into the room.”
“My dear Holmes! ”
“I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as I remarked before, which were quite as prompt. My whole examination served to turn my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial evidence is occasionally very convincing, as when you find a trout in the milk, to quote Thoreau’s example.”
“But I have heard all that you have heard.”
“Without, however, the knowledge of pre-existing cases which serves me so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some years back, and something on very much the same lines at Munich the year after the Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these cases—but, hullo, here is Lestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade! You will find an extra tumbler upon the sideboard, and there are cigars in the box.”
The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat, which gave him a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a black canvas bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seated himself and lit the cigar which had been offered to him.
“What’s up, then? ” asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. “You look dissatisfied.”
“And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriage case. I can make neither head nor tail of the business.”
“Really! You surprise me.”
“Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clue seems to slip through my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day.”
“And very wet it seems to have made you, ” said Holmes laying his hand upon the arm of the pea-jacket.
“Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine.”
“In Heaven’s name, what for? ”
“In search of the body of Lady St. Simon.”
Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily.
“Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain? ” he asked.
“Why? What do you mean? ”
“Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady in the one as in the other.”
Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. “I suppose you know all about it, ” he snarled.
“Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mind is made up.”
“Oh, indeed! Then you think that the Serpentine plays no part in the matter? ”
“I think it very unlikely.”
“Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found this in it? ” He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the floor a wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satin shoes and a bride’s wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked in water. “There, ” said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the top of the pile. “There is a little nut for you to crack, Master Holmes.”
“Oh, indeed! ” said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. “You dragged them from the Serpentine? ”
“No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. They have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me that if the clothes were there the body would not be far off.”
“By the same brilliant reasoning, every man’s body is to be found in the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope to arrive at through this? ”
“At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance.”
“I am afraid that you will find it difficult.”
“Are you, indeed, now? ” cried Lestrade with some bitterness. “I am afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your deductions and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as many minutes. This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar.”
“And how? ”
“In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the card-case is a note. And here is the very note.” He slapped it down upon the table in front of him. “Listen to this: ‘You will see me when all is ready. Come at once. F. H. M.’ Now my theory all along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away by Flora Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her initials, is the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped into her hand at the door and which lured her within their reach.”
“Very good, Lestrade, ” said Holmes, laughing. “You really are very fine indeed. Let me see it.” He took up the paper in a listless way, but his attention instantly became riveted, and he gave a little cry of satisfaction. “This is indeed important, ” said he.
“Ha! you find it so? ”
“Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly.”
Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. “Why, ” he shrieked, “you’re looking at the wrong side! ”
“On the contrary, this is the right side.”
“The right side? You’re mad! Here is the note written in pencil over here.”
“And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel bill, which interests me deeply.”
“There’s nothing in it. I looked at it before, ” said Lestrade. “‘Oct. 4th, rooms 8_s_., breakfast 2_s_. 6_d_., cocktail 1_s_., lunch 2_s_. 6_d_., glass sherry, 8_d_.’ I see nothing in that.”
“Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the note, it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I congratulate you again.”
“I’ve wasted time enough, ” said Lestrade, rising. “I believe in hard work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. Good-day, Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matter first.” He gathered up the garments, thrust them into the bag, and made for the door.
“Just one hint to you, Lestrade, ” drawled Holmes before his rival vanished; “I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St. Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any such person.”
Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, tapped his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and hurried away.
He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on his overcoat. “There is something in what the fellow says about outdoor work, ” he remarked, “so I think, Watson, that I must leave you to your papers for a little.”
It was after five o’clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had no time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a confectioner’s man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked with the help of a youth whom he had brought with him, and presently, to my very great astonishment, a quite epicurean little cold supper began to be laid out upon our humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of brace of cold woodcock, a pheasant, a _pâté de foie gras_ pie with a group of ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries, my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the Arabian Nights, with no explanation save that the things had been paid for and were ordered to this address.
Just before nine o’clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into the room. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his eye which made me think that he had not been disappointed in his conclusions.
“They have laid the supper, then, ” he said, rubbing his hands.
“You seem to expect company. They have laid for five.”
“Yes, I fancy we may have some company dropping in, ” said he. “I am surprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I fancy that I hear his step now upon the stairs.”
It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in, dangling his glasses more vigorously than ever, and with a very perturbed expression upon his aristocratic features.
“My messenger reached you, then? ” asked Holmes.
“Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyond measure. Have you good authority for what you say? ”
“The best possible.”
Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his hand over his forehead.
“What will the Duke say, ” he murmured, “when he hears that one of the family has been subjected to such humiliation? ”
“It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is any humiliation.”
“Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint.”
“I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how the lady could have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method of doing it was undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she had no one to advise her at such a crisis.”
“It was a slight, sir, a public slight, ” said Lord St. Simon, tapping his fingers upon the table.
“You must make allowance for this poor girl, placed in so unprecedented a position.”
“I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I have been shamefully used.”
“I think that I heard a ring, ” said Holmes. “Yes, there are steps on the landing. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient view of the matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate here who may be more successful.” He opened the door and ushered in a lady and gentleman. “Lord St. Simon, ” said he “allow me to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, I think, you have already met.”
At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from his seat and stood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his hand thrust into the breast of his frock-coat, a picture of offended dignity. The lady had taken a quick step forward and had held out her hand to him, but he still refused to raise his eyes. It was as well for his resolution, perhaps, for her pleading face was one which it was hard to resist.
“You’re angry, Robert, ” said she. “Well, I guess you have every cause to be.”
“Pray make no apology to me, ” said Lord St. Simon bitterly.
“Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real bad and that I should have spoken to you before I went; but I was kind of rattled, and from the time when I saw Frank here again I just didn’t know what I was doing or saying. I only wonder I didn’t fall down and do a faint right there before the altar.”
“Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leave the room while you explain this matter? ”
“If I may give an opinion, ” remarked the strange gentleman, “we’ve had just a little too much secrecy over this business already. For my part, I should like all Europe and America to hear the rights of it.” He was a small, wiry, sunburnt man, clean-shaven, with a sharp face and alert manner.
“Then I’ll tell our story right away, ” said the lady. “Frank here and I met in ’84, in McQuire’s camp, near the Rockies, where Pa was working a claim. We were engaged to each other, Frank and I; but then one day father struck a rich pocket and made a pile, while poor Frank here had a claim that petered out and came to nothing. The richer Pa grew the poorer was Frank; so at last Pa wouldn’t hear of our engagement lasting any longer, and he took me away to ’Frisco. Frank wouldn’t throw up his hand, though; so he followed me there, and he saw me without Pa knowing anything about it. It would only have made him mad to know, so we just fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that he would go and make his pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he had as much as Pa. So then I promised to wait for him to the end of time and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he lived. ‘Why shouldn’t we be married right away, then, ’ said he, ‘and then I will feel sure of you; and I won’t claim to be your husband until I come back? ’ Well, we talked it over, and he had fixed it all up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, that we just did it right there; and then Frank went off to seek his fortune, and I went back to Pa.
“The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then he went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New Mexico. After that came a long newspaper story about how a miners’ camp had been attacked by Apache Indians, and there was my Frank’s name among the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was very sick for months after. Pa thought I had a decline and took me to half the doctors in ’Frisco. Not a word of news came for a year and more, so that I never doubted that Frank was really dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to ’Frisco, and we came to London, and a marriage was arranged, and Pa was very pleased, but I felt all the time that no man on this earth would ever take the place in my heart that had been given to my poor Frank.
“Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I’d have done my duty by him. We can’t command our love, but we can our actions. I went to the altar with him with the intention to make him just as good a wife as it was in me to be. But you may imagine what I felt when, just as I came to the altar rails, I glanced back and saw Frank standing and looking at me out of the first pew. I thought it was his ghost at first; but when I looked again there he was still, with a kind of question in his eyes, as if to ask me whether I were glad or sorry to see him. I wonder I didn’t drop. I know that everything was turning round, and the words of the clergyman were just like the buzz of a bee in my ear. I didn’t know what to do. Should I stop the service and make a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and he seemed to know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his lips to tell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece of paper, and I knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his pew on the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped the note into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only a line asking me to join him when he made the sign to me to do so. Of course I never doubted for a moment that my first duty was now to him, and I determined to do just whatever he might direct.
“When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California, and had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to have spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before his mother and all those great people. I just made up my mind to run away and explain afterwards. I hadn’t been at the table ten minutes before I saw Frank out of the window at the other side of the road. He beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park. I slipped out, put on my things, and followed him. Some woman came talking something or other about Lord St. Simon to me—seemed to me from the little I heard as if he had a little secret of his own before marriage also—but I managed to get away from her and soon overtook Frank. We got into a cab together, and away we drove to some lodgings he had taken in Gordon Square, and that was my true wedding after all those years of waiting. Frank had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, came on to ’Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead and had gone to England, followed me there, and had come upon me at last on the very morning of my second wedding.”
“I saw it in a paper, ” explained the American. “It gave the name and the church but not where the lady lived.”
“Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all for openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I should like to vanish away and never see any of them again—just sending a line to Pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It was awful to me to think of all those lords and ladies sitting round that breakfast-table and waiting for me to come back. So Frank took my wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle of them, so that I should not be traced, and dropped them away somewhere where no one could find them. It is likely that we should have gone on to Paris to-morrow, only that this good gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to us this evening, though how he found us is more than I can think, and he showed us very clearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank was right, and that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we were so secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to Lord St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if I have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very meanly of me.”
Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but had listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this long narrative.
“Excuse me, ” he said, “but it is not my custom to discuss my most intimate personal affairs in this public manner.”
“Then you won’t forgive me? You won’t shake hands before I go? ”
“Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure.” He put out his hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him.
“I had hoped, ” suggested Holmes, “that you would have joined us in a friendly supper.”
“I think that there you ask a little too much, ” responded his Lordship. “I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent developments, but I can hardly be expected to make merry over them. I think that with your permission I will now wish you all a very good-night.” He included us all in a sweeping bow and stalked out of the room.
“Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company, ” said Sherlock Holmes. “It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr. Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-gone years will not prevent our children from being some day citizens of the same world-wide country under a flag which shall be a quartering of the Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes.”
“The case has been an interesting one, ” remarked Holmes when our visitors had left us, “because it serves to show very clearly how simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight seems to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more natural than the sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothing stranger than the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr. Lestrade of Scotland Yard.”
“You were not yourself at fault at all, then? ”
“From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that the lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, the other that she had repented of it within a few minutes of returning home. Obviously something had occurred during the morning, then, to cause her to change her mind. What could that something be? She could not have spoken to anyone when she was out, for she had been in the company of the bridegroom. Had she seen someone, then? If she had, it must be someone from America because she had spent so short a time in this country that she could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so deep an influence over her that the mere sight of him would induce her to change her plans so completely. You see we have already arrived, by a process of exclusion, at the idea that she might have seen an American. Then who could this American be, and why should he possess so much influence over her? It might be a lover; it might be a husband. Her young womanhood had, I knew, been spent in rough scenes and under strange conditions. So far I had got before I ever heard Lord St. Simon’s narrative. When he told us of a man in a pew, of the change in the bride’s manner, of so transparent a device for obtaining a note as the dropping of a bouquet, of her resort to her confidential maid, and of her very significant allusion to claim-jumping—which in miners’ parlance means taking possession of that which another person has a prior claim to—the whole situation became absolutely clear. She had gone off with a man, and the man was either a lover or was a previous husband—the chances being in favour of the latter.”
“And how in the world did you find them? ”
“It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held information in his hands the value of which he did not himself know. The initials were, of course, of the highest importance, but more valuable still was it to know that within a week he had settled his bill at one of the most select London hotels.”
“How did you deduce the select? ”
“By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence for a glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive hotels. There are not many in London which charge at that rate. In the second one which I visited in Northumberland Avenue, I learned by an inspection of the book that Francis H. Moulton, an American gentleman, had left only the day before, and on looking over the entries against him, I came upon the very items which I had seen in the duplicate bill. His letters were to be forwarded to 226 Gordon Square; so thither I travelled, and being fortunate enough to find the loving couple at home, I ventured to give them some paternal advice and to point out to them that it would be better in every way that they should make their position a little clearer both to the general public and to Lord St. Simon in particular. I invited them to meet him here, and, as you see, I made him keep the appointment.”
“But with no very good result, ” I remarked. “His conduct was certainly not very gracious.”
“Ah, Watson, ” said Holmes, smiling, “perhaps you would not be very gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and wedding, you found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and of fortune. I think that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifully and thank our stars that we are never likely to find ourselves in the same position. Draw your chair up and hand me my violin, for the only problem we have still to solve is how to while away these bleak autumnal evenings.”
XI. THE ADVENTURE OF THE BERYL CORONET
“Holmes, ” said I as I stood one morning in our bow-window looking down the street, “here is a madman coming along. It seems rather sad that his relatives should allow him to come out alone.”
My friend rose lazily from his armchair and stood with his hands in the pockets of his dressing-gown, looking over my shoulder. It was a bright, crisp February morning, and the snow of the day before still lay deep upon the ground, shimmering brightly in the wintry sun. Down the centre of Baker Street it had been ploughed into a brown crumbly band by the traffic, but at either side and on the heaped-up edges of the footpaths it still lay as white as when it fell. The grey pavement had been cleaned and scraped, but was still dangerously slippery, so that there were fewer passengers than usual. Indeed, from the direction of the Metropolitan Station no one was coming save the single gentleman whose eccentric conduct had drawn my attention.
He was a man of about fifty, tall, portly, and imposing, with a massive, strongly marked face and a commanding figure. He was dressed in a sombre yet rich style, in black frock-coat, shining hat, neat brown gaiters, and well-cut pearl-grey trousers. Yet his actions were in absurd contrast to the dignity of his dress and features, for he was running hard, with occasional little springs, such as a weary man gives who is little accustomed to set any tax upon his legs. As he ran he jerked his hands up and down, waggled his head, and writhed his face into the most extraordinary contortions.
“What on earth can be the matter with him? ” I asked. “He is looking up at the numbers of the houses.”
“I believe that he is coming here, ” said Holmes, rubbing his hands.
“Here? ”
“Yes; I rather think he is coming to consult me professionally. I think that I recognise the symptoms. Ha! did I not tell you? ” As he spoke, the man, puffing and blowing, rushed at our door and pulled at our bell until the whole house resounded with the clanging.
A few moments later he was in our room, still puffing, still gesticulating, but with so fixed a look of grief and despair in his eyes that our smiles were turned in an instant to horror and pity. For a while he could not get his words out, but swayed his body and plucked at his hair like one who has been driven to the extreme limits of his reason. Then, suddenly springing to his feet, he beat his head against the wall with such force that we both rushed upon him and tore him away to the centre of the room. Sherlock Holmes pushed him down into the easy-chair and, sitting beside him, patted his hand and chatted with him in the easy, soothing tones which he knew so well how to employ.
“You have come to me to tell your story, have you not? ” said he. “You are fatigued with your haste. Pray wait until you have recovered yourself, and then I shall be most happy to look into any little problem which you may submit to me.”
The man sat for a minute or more with a heaving chest, fighting against his emotion. Then he passed his handkerchief over his brow, set his lips tight, and turned his face towards us.
“No doubt you think me mad? ” said he.
“I see that you have had some great trouble, ” responded Holmes.
“God knows I have! —a trouble which is enough to unseat my reason, so sudden and so terrible is it. Public disgrace I might have faced, although I am a man whose character has never yet borne a stain. Private affliction also is the lot of every man; but the two coming together, and in so frightful a form, have been enough to shake my very soul. Besides, it is not I alone. The very noblest in the land may suffer unless some way be found out of this horrible affair.”
“Pray compose yourself, sir, ” said Holmes, “and let me have a clear account of who you are and what it is that has befallen you.”
“My name, ” answered our visitor, “is probably familiar to your ears. I am Alexander Holder, of the banking firm of Holder & Stevenson, of Threadneedle Street.”
The name was indeed well known to us as belonging to the senior partner in the second largest private banking concern in the City of London. What could have happened, then, to bring one of the foremost citizens of London to this most pitiable pass? We waited, all curiosity, until with another effort he braced himself to tell his story.
“I feel that time is of value, ” said he; “that is why I hastened here when the police inspector suggested that I should secure your co-operation. I came to Baker Street by the Underground and hurried from there on foot, for the cabs go slowly through this snow. That is why I was so out of breath, for I am a man who takes very little exercise. I feel better now, and I will put the facts before you as shortly and yet as clearly as I can.
“It is, of course, well known to you that in a successful banking business as much depends upon our being able to find remunerative investments for our funds as upon our increasing our connection and the number of our depositors. One of our most lucrative means of laying out money is in the shape of loans, where the security is unimpeachable. We have done a good deal in this direction during the last few years, and there are many noble families to whom we have advanced large sums upon the security of their pictures, libraries, or plate.
“Yesterday morning I was seated in my office at the bank when a card was brought in to me by one of the clerks. I started when I saw the name, for it was that of none other than—well, perhaps even to you I had better say no more than that it was a name which is a household word all over the earth—one of the highest, noblest, most exalted names in England. I was overwhelmed by the honour and attempted, when he entered, to say so, but he plunged at once into business with the air of a man who wishes to hurry quickly through a disagreeable task.
“‘Mr. Holder, ’ said he, ‘I have been informed that you are in the habit of advancing money.’
“‘The firm does so when the security is good.’ I answered.
“‘It is absolutely essential to me, ’ said he, ‘that I should have £ 50, 000 at once. I could, of course, borrow so trifling a sum ten times over from my friends, but I much prefer to make it a matter of business and to carry out that business myself. In my position you can readily understand that it is unwise to place one’s self under obligations.’
“‘For how long, may I ask, do you want this sum? ’ I asked.
“‘Next Monday I have a large sum due to me, and I shall then most certainly repay what you advance, with whatever interest you think it right to charge. But it is very essential to me that the money should be paid at once.’
“‘I should be happy to advance it without further parley from my own private purse, ’ said I, ‘were it not that the strain would be rather more than it could bear. If, on the other hand, I am to do it in the name of the firm, then in justice to my partner I must insist that, even in your case, every businesslike precaution should be taken.’
“‘I should much prefer to have it so, ’ said he, raising up a square, black morocco case which he had laid beside his chair. ‘You have doubtless heard of the Beryl Coronet? ’
“‘One of the most precious public possessions of the empire, ’ said I.
“‘Precisely.’ He opened the case, and there, imbedded in soft, flesh-coloured velvet, lay the magnificent piece of jewellery which he had named. ‘There are thirty-nine enormous beryls, ’ said he, ‘and the price of the gold chasing is incalculable. The lowest estimate would put the worth of the coronet at double the sum which I have asked. I am prepared to leave it with you as my security.’
“I took the precious case into my hands and looked in some perplexity from it to my illustrious client.
“‘You doubt its value? ’ he asked.
“‘Not at all. I only doubt—’
“‘The propriety of my leaving it. You may set your mind at rest about that. I should not dream of doing so were it not absolutely certain that I should be able in four days to reclaim it. It is a pure matter of form. Is the security sufficient? ’
“‘Ample.’
“‘You understand, Mr. Holder, that I am giving you a strong proof of the confidence which I have in you, founded upon all that I have heard of you. I rely upon you not only to be discreet and to refrain from all gossip upon the matter but, above all, to preserve this coronet with every possible precaution because I need not say that a great public scandal would be caused if any harm were to befall it. Any injury to it would be almost as serious as its complete loss, for there are no beryls in the world to match these, and it would be impossible to replace them. I leave it with you, however, with every confidence, and I shall call for it in person on Monday morning.’
“Seeing that my client was anxious to leave, I said no more but, calling for my cashier, I ordered him to pay over fifty £ 1000 notes. When I was alone once more, however, with the precious case lying upon the table in front of me, I could not but think with some misgivings of the immense responsibility which it entailed upon me. There could be no doubt that, as it was a national possession, a horrible scandal would ensue if any misfortune should occur to it. I already regretted having ever consented to take charge of it. However, it was too late to alter the matter now, so I locked it up in my private safe and turned once more to my work.
“When evening came I felt that it would be an imprudence to leave so precious a thing in the office behind me. Bankers’ safes had been forced before now, and why should not mine be? If so, how terrible would be the position in which I should find myself! I determined, therefore, that for the next few days I would always carry the case backward and forward with me, so that it might never be really out of my reach. With this intention, I called a cab and drove out to my house at Streatham, carrying the jewel with me. I did not breathe freely until I had taken it upstairs and locked it in the bureau of my dressing-room.
“And now a word as to my household, Mr. Holmes, for I wish you to thoroughly understand the situation. My groom and my page sleep out of the house, and may be set aside altogether. I have three maid-servants who have been with me a number of years and whose absolute reliability is quite above suspicion. Another, Lucy Parr, the second waiting-maid, has only been in my service a few months. She came with an excellent character, however, and has always given me satisfaction. She is a very pretty girl and has attracted admirers who have occasionally hung about the place. That is the only drawback which we have found to her, but we believe her to be a thoroughly good girl in every way.
“So much for the servants. My family itself is so small that it will not take me long to describe it. I am a widower and have an only son, Arthur. He has been a disappointment to me, Mr. Holmes—a grievous disappointment. I have no doubt that I am myself to blame. People tell me that I have spoiled him. Very likely I have. When my dear wife died I felt that he was all I had to love. I could not bear to see the smile fade even for a moment from his face. I have never denied him a wish. Perhaps it would have been better for both of us had I been sterner, but I meant it for the best.
“It was naturally my intention that he should succeed me in my business, but he was not of a business turn. He was wild, wayward, and, to speak the truth, I could not trust him in the handling of large sums of money. When he was young he became a member of an aristocratic club, and there, having charming manners, he was soon the intimate of a number of men with long purses and expensive habits. He learned to play heavily at cards and to squander money on the turf, until he had again and again to come to me and implore me to give him an advance upon his allowance, that he might settle his debts of honour. He tried more than once to break away from the dangerous company which he was keeping, but each time the influence of his friend, Sir George Burnwell, was enough to draw him back again.
“And, indeed, I could not wonder that such a man as Sir George Burnwell should gain an influence over him, for he has frequently brought him to my house, and I have found myself that I could hardly resist the fascination of his manner. He is older than Arthur, a man of the world to his finger-tips, one who had been everywhere, seen everything, a brilliant talker, and a man of great personal beauty. Yet when I think of him in cold blood, far away from the glamour of his presence, I am convinced from his cynical speech and the look which I have caught in his eyes that he is one who should be deeply distrusted. So I think, and so, too, thinks my little Mary, who has a woman’s quick insight into character.
“And now there is only she to be described. She is my niece; but when my brother died five years ago and left her alone in the world I adopted her, and have looked upon her ever since as my daughter. She is a sunbeam in my house—sweet, loving, beautiful, a wonderful manager and housekeeper, yet as tender and quiet and gentle as a woman could be. She is my right hand. I do not know what I could do without her. In only one matter has she ever gone against my wishes. Twice my boy has asked her to marry him, for he loves her devotedly, but each time she has refused him. I think that if anyone could have drawn him into the right path it would have been she, and that his marriage might have changed his whole life; but now, alas! it is too late—forever too late!
“Now, Mr. Holmes, you know the people who live under my roof, and I shall continue with my miserable story.
“When we were taking coffee in the drawing-room that night after dinner, I told Arthur and Mary my experience, and of the precious treasure which we had under our roof, suppressing only the name of my client. Lucy Parr, who had brought in the coffee, had, I am sure, left the room; but I cannot swear that the door was closed. Mary and Arthur were much interested and wished to see the famous coronet, but I thought it better not to disturb it.
“‘Where have you put it? ’ asked Arthur.
“‘In my own bureau.’
“‘Well, I hope to goodness the house won’t be burgled during the night.’ said he.
“‘It is locked up, ’ I answered.
“‘Oh, any old key will fit that bureau. When I was a youngster I have opened it myself with the key of the box-room cupboard.’
“He often had a wild way of talking, so that I thought little of what he said. He followed me to my room, however, that night with a very grave face.
“‘Look here, dad, ’ said he with his eyes cast down, ‘can you let me have £ 200? ’
“‘No, I cannot! ’ I answered sharply. ‘I have been far too generous with you in money matters.’
“‘You have been very kind, ’ said he, ‘but I must have this money, or else I can never show my face inside the club again.’
“‘And a very good thing, too! ’ I cried.
“‘Yes, but you would not have me leave it a dishonoured man, ’ said he. ‘I could not bear the disgrace. I must raise the money in some way, and if you will not let me have it, then I must try other means.’
“I was very angry, for this was the third demand during the month. ‘You shall not have a farthing from me, ’ I cried, on which he bowed and left the room without another word.
“When he was gone I unlocked my bureau, made sure that my treasure was safe, and locked it again. Then I started to go round the house to see that all was secure—a duty which I usually leave to Mary but which I thought it well to perform myself that night. As I came down the stairs I saw Mary herself at the side window of the hall, which she closed and fastened as I approached.
“‘Tell me, dad, ’ said she, looking, I thought, a little disturbed, ‘did you give Lucy, the maid, leave to go out to-night? ’
“‘Certainly not.’
“‘She came in just now by the back door. I have no doubt that she has only been to the side gate to see someone, but I think that it is hardly safe and should be stopped.’
“‘You must speak to her in the morning, or I will if you prefer it. Are you sure that everything is fastened? ’
“‘Quite sure, dad.’
“‘Then, good-night.’ I kissed her and went up to my bedroom again, where I was soon asleep.
“I am endeavouring to tell you everything, Mr. Holmes, which may have any bearing upon the case, but I beg that you will question me upon any point which I do not make clear.”
“On the contrary, your statement is singularly lucid.”
“I come to a part of my story now in which I should wish to be particularly so. I am not a very heavy sleeper, and the anxiety in my mind tended, no doubt, to make me even less so than usual. About two in the morning, then, I was awakened by some sound in the house. It had ceased ere I was wide awake, but it had left an impression behind it as though a window had gently closed somewhere. I lay listening with all my ears. Suddenly, to my horror, there was a distinct sound of footsteps moving softly in the next room. I slipped out of bed, all palpitating with fear, and peeped round the corner of my dressing-room door.
“‘Arthur! ’ I screamed, ‘you villain! you thief! How dare you touch that coronet? ’
“The gas was half up, as I had left it, and my unhappy boy, dressed only in his shirt and trousers, was standing beside the light, holding the coronet in his hands. He appeared to be wrenching at it, or bending it with all his strength. At my cry he dropped it from his grasp and turned as pale as death. I snatched it up and examined it. One of the gold corners, with three of the beryls in it, was missing.
“‘You blackguard! ’ I shouted, beside myself with rage. ‘You have destroyed it! You have dishonoured me forever! Where are the jewels which you have stolen? ’
“‘Stolen! ’ he cried.
“‘Yes, thief! ’ I roared, shaking him by the shoulder.
“‘There are none missing. There cannot be any missing, ’ said he.
“‘There are three missing. And you know where they are. Must I call you a liar as well as a thief? Did I not see you trying to tear off another piece? ’
“‘You have called me names enough, ’ said he, ‘I will not stand it any longer. I shall not say another word about this business, since you have chosen to insult me. I will leave your house in the morning and make my own way in the world.’
“‘You shall leave it in the hands of the police! ’ I cried half-mad with grief and rage. ‘I shall have this matter probed to the bottom.’
“‘You shall learn nothing from me, ’ said he with a passion such as I should not have thought was in his nature. ‘If you choose to call the police, let the police find what they can.’
“By this time the whole house was astir, for I had raised my voice in my anger. Mary was the first to rush into my room, and, at the sight of the coronet and of Arthur’s face, she read the whole story and, with a scream, fell down senseless on the ground. I sent the housemaid for the police and put the investigation into their hands at once. When the inspector and a constable entered the house, Arthur, who had stood sullenly with his arms folded, asked me whether it was my intention to charge him with theft. I answered that it had ceased to be a private matter, but had become a public one, since the ruined coronet was national property. I was determined that the law should have its way in everything.
“‘At least, ’ said he, ‘you will not have me arrested at once. It would be to your advantage as well as mine if I might leave the house for five minutes.’
“‘That you may get away, or perhaps that you may conceal what you have stolen, ’ said I. And then, realising the dreadful position in which I was placed, I implored him to remember that not only my honour but that of one who was far greater than I was at stake; and that he threatened to raise a scandal which would convulse the nation. He might avert it all if he would but tell me what he had done with the three missing stones.
“‘You may as well face the matter, ’ said I; ‘you have been caught in the act, and no confession could make your guilt more heinous. If you but make such reparation as is in your power, by telling us where the beryls are, all shall be forgiven and forgotten.’
“‘Keep your forgiveness for those who ask for it, ’ he answered, turning away from me with a sneer. I saw that he was too hardened for any words of mine to influence him. There was but one way for it. I called in the inspector and gave him into custody. A search was made at once not only of his person but of his room and of every portion of the house where he could possibly have concealed the gems; but no trace of them could be found, nor would the wretched boy open his mouth for all our persuasions and our threats. This morning he was removed to a cell, and I, after going through all the police formalities, have hurried round to you to implore you to use your skill in unravelling the matter. The police have openly confessed that they can at present make nothing of it. You may go to any expense which you think necessary. I have already offered a reward of £ 1000. My God, what shall I do! I have lost my honour, my gems, and my son in one night. Oh, what shall I do! ”
He put a hand on either side of his head and rocked himself to and fro, droning to himself like a child whose grief has got beyond words.
Sherlock Holmes sat silent for some few minutes, with his brows knitted and his eyes fixed upon the fire.
“Do you receive much company? ” he asked.
“None save my partner with his family and an occasional friend of Arthur’s. Sir George Burnwell has been several times lately. No one else, I think.”
“Do you go out much in society? ”
“Arthur does. Mary and I stay at home. We neither of us care for it.”
“That is unusual in a young girl.”
“She is of a quiet nature. Besides, she is not so very young. She is four-and-twenty.”
“This matter, from what you say, seems to have been a shock to her also.”
“Terrible! She is even more affected than I.”
“You have neither of you any doubt as to your son’s guilt? ”
“How can we have when I saw him with my own eyes with the coronet in his hands.”
“I hardly consider that a conclusive proof. Was the remainder of the coronet at all injured? ”
“Yes, it was twisted.”
“Do you not think, then, that he might have been trying to straighten it? ”
“God bless you! You are doing what you can for him and for me. But it is too heavy a task. What was he doing there at all? If his purpose were innocent, why did he not say so? ”
“Precisely. And if it were guilty, why did he not invent a lie? His silence appears to me to cut both ways. There are several singular points about the case. What did the police think of the noise which awoke you from your sleep? ”
“They considered that it might be caused by Arthur’s closing his bedroom door.”
“A likely story! As if a man bent on felony would slam his door so as to wake a household. What did they say, then, of the disappearance of these gems? ”
“They are still sounding the planking and probing the furniture in the hope of finding them.”
“Have they thought of looking outside the house? ”
“Yes, they have shown extraordinary energy. The whole garden has already been minutely examined.”
“Now, my dear sir, ” said Holmes, “is it not obvious to you now that this matter really strikes very much deeper than either you or the police were at first inclined to think? It appeared to you to be a simple case; to me it seems exceedingly complex. Consider what is involved by your theory. You suppose that your son came down from his bed, went, at great risk, to your dressing-room, opened your bureau, took out your coronet, broke off by main force a small portion of it, went off to some other place, concealed three gems out of the thirty-nine, with such skill that nobody can find them, and then returned with the other thirty-six into the room in which he exposed himself to the greatest danger of being discovered. I ask you now, is such a theory tenable? ”
“But what other is there? ” cried the banker with a gesture of despair. “If his motives were innocent, why does he not explain them? ”
“It is our task to find that out, ” replied Holmes; “so now, if you please, Mr. Holder, we will set off for Streatham together, and devote an hour to glancing a little more closely into details.”
My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition, which I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy were deeply stirred by the story to which we had listened. I confess that the guilt of the banker’s son appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to his unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes’ judgment that I felt that there must be some grounds for hope as long as he was dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. He hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought. Our client appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of hope which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a desultory chat with me over his business affairs. A short railway journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest residence of the great financier.
Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing back a little from the road. A double carriage-sweep, with a snow-clad lawn, stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed the entrance. On the right side was a small wooden thicket, which led into a narrow path between two neat hedges stretching from the road to the kitchen door, and forming the tradesmen’s entrance. On the left ran a lane which led to the stables, and was not itself within the grounds at all, being a public, though little used, thoroughfare. Holmes left us standing at the door and walked slowly all round the house, across the front, down the tradesmen’s path, and so round by the garden behind into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I went into the dining-room and waited by the fire until he should return. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and a young lady came in. She was rather above the middle height, slim, with dark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker against the absolute pallor of her skin. I do not think that I have ever seen such deadly paleness in a woman’s face. Her lips, too, were bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying. As she swept silently into the room she impressed me with a greater sense of grief than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the more striking in her as she was evidently a woman of strong character, with immense capacity for self-restraint. Disregarding my presence, she went straight to her uncle and passed her hand over his head with a sweet womanly caress.
“You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have you not, dad? ” she asked.
“No, no, my girl, the matter must be probed to the bottom.”
“But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman’s instincts are. I know that he has done no harm and that you will be sorry for having acted so harshly.”
“Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent? ”
“Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should suspect him.”
“How could I help suspecting him, when I actually saw him with the coronet in his hand? ”
“Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take my word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say no more. It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in prison! ”
“I shall never let it drop until the gems are found—never, Mary! Your affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequences to me. Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman down from London to inquire more deeply into it.”
“This gentleman? ” she asked, facing round to me.
“No, his friend. He wished us to leave him alone. He is round in the stable lane now.”
“The stable lane? ” She raised her dark eyebrows. “What can he hope to find there? Ah! this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir, that you will succeed in proving, what I feel sure is the truth, that my cousin Arthur is innocent of this crime.”
“I fully share your opinion, and I trust, with you, that we may prove it, ” returned Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the snow from his shoes. “I believe I have the honour of addressing Miss Mary Holder. Might I ask you a question or two? ”
“Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up.”
“You heard nothing yourself last night? ”
“Nothing, until my uncle here began to speak loudly. I heard that, and I came down.”
“You shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did you fasten all the windows? ”
“Yes.”
“Were they all fastened this morning? ”
“Yes.”
“You have a maid who has a sweetheart? I think that you remarked to your uncle last night that she had been out to see him? ”
“Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room, and who may have heard uncle’s remarks about the coronet.”
“I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her sweetheart, and that the two may have planned the robbery.”
“But what is the good of all these vague theories, ” cried the banker impatiently, “when I have told you that I saw Arthur with the coronet in his hands? ”
“Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that. About this girl, Miss Holder. You saw her return by the kitchen door, I presume? ”
“Yes; when I went to see if the door was fastened for the night I met her slipping in. I saw the man, too, in the gloom.”
“Do you know him? ”
“Oh, yes! he is the greengrocer who brings our vegetables round. His name is Francis Prosper.”
“He stood, ” said Holmes, “to the left of the door—that is to say, farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door? ”
“Yes, he did.”
“And he is a man with a wooden leg? ”
Something like fear sprang up in the young lady’s expressive black eyes. “Why, you are like a magician, ” said she. “How do you know that? ” She smiled, but there was no answering smile in Holmes’ thin, eager face.
“I should be very glad now to go upstairs, ” said he. “I shall probably wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps I had better take a look at the lower windows before I go up.”
He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at the large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. This he opened and made a very careful examination of the sill with his powerful magnifying lens. “Now we shall go upstairs, ” said he at last.
The banker’s dressing-room was a plainly furnished little chamber, with a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror. Holmes went to the bureau first and looked hard at the lock.
“Which key was used to open it? ” he asked.
“That which my son himself indicated—that of the cupboard of the lumber-room.”
“Have you it here? ”
“That is it on the dressing-table.”
Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau.
“It is a noiseless lock, ” said he. “It is no wonder that it did not wake you. This case, I presume, contains the coronet. We must have a look at it.” He opened the case, and taking out the diadem he laid it upon the table. It was a magnificent specimen of the jeweller’s art, and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I have ever seen. At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge, where a corner holding three gems had been torn away.
“Now, Mr. Holder, ” said Holmes, “here is the corner which corresponds to that which has been so unfortunately lost. Might I beg that you will break it off.”
The banker recoiled in horror. “I should not dream of trying, ” said he.
“Then I will.” Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but without result. “I feel it give a little, ” said he; “but, though I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, it would take me all my time to break it. An ordinary man could not do it. Now, what do you think would happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? There would be a noise like a pistol shot. Do you tell me that all this happened within a few yards of your bed and that you heard nothing of it? ”
“I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me.”
“But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. What do you think, Miss Holder? ”
“I confess that I still share my uncle’s perplexity.”
“Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him? ”
“He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt.”
“Thank you. We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary luck during this inquiry, and it will be entirely our own fault if we do not succeed in clearing the matter up. With your permission, Mr. Holder, I shall now continue my investigations outside.”
He went alone, at his own request, for he explained that any unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an hour or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet heavy with snow and his features as inscrutable as ever.
“I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr. Holder, ” said he; “I can serve you best by returning to my rooms.”
“But the gems, Mr. Holmes. Where are they? ”
“I cannot tell.”
The banker wrung his hands. “I shall never see them again! ” he cried. “And my son? You give me hopes? ”
“My opinion is in no way altered.”
“Then, for God’s sake, what was this dark business which was acted in my house last night? ”
“If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms to-morrow morning between nine and ten I shall be happy to do what I can to make it clearer. I understand that you give me _carte blanche_ to act for you, provided only that I get back the gems, and that you place no limit on the sum I may draw.”
“I would give my fortune to have them back.”
“Very good. I shall look into the matter between this and then. Good-bye; it is just possible that I may have to come over here again before evening.”
It was obvious to me that my companion’s mind was now made up about the case, although what his conclusions were was more than I could even dimly imagine. Several times during our homeward journey I endeavoured to sound him upon the point, but he always glided away to some other topic, until at last I gave it over in despair. It was not yet three when we found ourselves in our rooms once more. He hurried to his chamber and was down again in a few minutes dressed as a common loafer. With his collar turned up, his shiny, seedy coat, his red cravat, and his worn boots, he was a perfect sample of the class.
“I think that this should do, ” said he, glancing into the glass above the fireplace. “I only wish that you could come with me, Watson, but I fear that it won’t do. I may be on the trail in this matter, or I may be following a will-o’-the-wisp, but I shall soon know which it is. I hope that I may be back in a few hours.” He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the sideboard, sandwiched it between two rounds of bread, and thrusting this rude meal into his pocket he started off upon his expedition.
I had just finished my tea when he returned, evidently in excellent spirits, swinging an old elastic-sided boot in his hand. He chucked it down into a corner and helped himself to a cup of tea.
“I only looked in as I passed, ” said he. “I am going right on.”
“Where to? ”
“Oh, to the other side of the West End. It may be some time before I get back. Don’t wait up for me in case I should be late.”
“How are you getting on? ”
“Oh, so so. Nothing to complain of. I have been out to Streatham since I saw you last, but I did not call at the house. It is a very sweet little problem, and I would not have missed it for a good deal. However, I must not sit gossiping here, but must get these disreputable clothes off and return to my highly respectable self.”
I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons for satisfaction than his words alone would imply. His eyes twinkled, and there was even a touch of colour upon his sallow cheeks. He hastened upstairs, and a few minutes later I heard the slam of the hall door, which told me that he was off once more upon his congenial hunt.
I waited until midnight, but there was no sign of his return, so I retired to my room. It was no uncommon thing for him to be away for days and nights on end when he was hot upon a scent, so that his lateness caused me no surprise. I do not know at what hour he came in, but when I came down to breakfast in the morning there he was with a cup of coffee in one hand and the paper in the other, as fresh and trim as possible.
“You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson, ” said he, “but you remember that our client has rather an early appointment this morning.”
“Why, it is after nine now, ” I answered. “I should not be surprised if that were he. I thought I heard a ring.”
It was, indeed, our friend the financier. I was shocked by the change which had come over him, for his face which was naturally of a broad and massive mould, was now pinched and fallen in, while his hair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. He entered with a weariness and lethargy which was even more painful than his violence of the morning before, and he dropped heavily into the armchair which I pushed forward for him.
“I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried, ” said he. “Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man, without a care in the world. Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured age. One sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. My niece, Mary, has deserted me.”
“Deserted you? ”
“Yes. Her bed this morning had not been slept in, her room was empty, and a note for me lay upon the hall table. I had said to her last night, in sorrow and not in anger, that if she had married my boy all might have been well with him. Perhaps it was thoughtless of me to say so. It is to that remark that she refers in this note:
“‘MY DEAREST UNCLE, —I feel that I have brought trouble upon you, and that if I had acted differently this terrible misfortune might never have occurred. I cannot, with this thought in my mind, ever again be happy under your roof, and I feel that I must leave you forever. Do not worry about my future, for that is provided for; and, above all, do not search for me, for it will be fruitless labour and an ill-service to me. In life or in death, I am ever your loving,
“‘玛丽。’
“What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it points to suicide? ”
“No, no, nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of your troubles.”
“Ha! You say so! You have heard something, Mr. Holmes; you have learned something! Where are the gems? ”
“You would not think £ 1000 apiece an excessive sum for them? ”
“I would pay ten.”
“That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter. And there is a little reward, I fancy. Have you your cheque-book? Here is a pen. Better make it out for £ 4000.”
With a dazed face the banker made out the required check. Holmes walked over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of gold with three gems in it, and threw it down upon the table.
With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up.
“You have it! ” he gasped. “I am saved! I am saved! ”
The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and he hugged his recovered gems to his bosom.
“There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder, ” said Sherlock Holmes rather sternly.
“Owe! ” He caught up a pen. “Name the sum, and I will pay it.”
“No, the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that noble lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter as I should be proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to have one.”
“Then it was not Arthur who took them? ”
“I told you yesterday, and I repeat to-day, that it was not.”
“You are sure of it! Then let us hurry to him at once to let him know that the truth is known.”
“He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up I had an interview with him, and finding that he would not tell me the story, I told it to him, on which he had to confess that I was right and to add the very few details which were not yet quite clear to me. Your news of this morning, however, may open his lips.”
“For Heaven’s sake, tell me, then, what is this extraordinary mystery! ”
“I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached it. And let me say to you, first, that which it is hardest for me to say and for you to hear: there has been an understanding between Sir George Burnwell and your niece Mary. They have now fled together.”
“My Mary? Impossible! ”
“It is unfortunately more than possible; it is certain. Neither you nor your son knew the true character of this man when you admitted him into your family circle. He is one of the most dangerous men in England—a ruined gambler, an absolutely desperate villain, a man without heart or conscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his vows to her, as he had done to a hundred before her, she flattered herself that she alone had touched his heart. The devil knows best what he said, but at least she became his tool and was in the habit of seeing him nearly every evening.”
“I cannot, and I will not, believe it! ” cried the banker with an ashen face.
“I will tell you, then, what occurred in your house last night. Your niece, when you had, as she thought, gone to your room, slipped down and talked to her lover through the window which leads into the stable lane. His footmarks had pressed right through the snow, so long had he stood there. She told him of the coronet. His wicked lust for gold kindled at the news, and he bent her to his will. I have no doubt that she loved you, but there are women in whom the love of a lover extinguishes all other loves, and I think that she must have been one. She had hardly listened to his instructions when she saw you coming downstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and told you about one of the servants’ escapade with her wooden-legged lover, which was all perfectly true.
“Your boy, Arthur, went to bed after his interview with you but he slept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts. In the middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door, so he rose and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin walking very stealthily along the passage until she disappeared into your dressing-room. Petrified with astonishment, the lad slipped on some clothes and waited there in the dark to see what would come of this strange affair. Presently she emerged from the room again, and in the light of the passage-lamp your son saw that she carried the precious coronet in her hands. She passed down the stairs, and he, thrilling with horror, ran along and slipped behind the curtain near your door, whence he could see what passed in the hall beneath. He saw her stealthily open the window, hand out the coronet to someone in the gloom, and then closing it once more hurry back to her room, passing quite close to where he stood hid behind the curtain.
“As long as she was on the scene he could not take any action without a horrible exposure of the woman whom he loved. But the instant that she was gone he realised how crushing a misfortune this would be for you, and how all-important it was to set it right. He rushed down, just as he was, in his bare feet, opened the window, sprang out into the snow, and ran down the lane, where he could see a dark figure in the moonlight. Sir George Burnwell tried to get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was a struggle between them, your lad tugging at one side of the coronet, and his opponent at the other. In the scuffle, your son struck Sir George and cut him over the eye. Then something suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he had the coronet in his hands, rushed back, closed the window, ascended to your room, and had just observed that the coronet had been twisted in the struggle and was endeavouring to straighten it when you appeared upon the scene.”
“Is it possible? ” gasped the banker.
“You then roused his anger by calling him names at a moment when he felt that he had deserved your warmest thanks. He could not explain the true state of affairs without betraying one who certainly deserved little enough consideration at his hands. He took the more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her secret.”
“And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw the coronet, ” cried Mr. Holder. “Oh, my God! what a blind fool I have been! And his asking to be allowed to go out for five minutes! The dear fellow wanted to see if the missing piece were at the scene of the struggle. How cruelly I have misjudged him! ”
“When I arrived at the house, ” continued Holmes, “I at once went very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in the snow which might help me. I knew that none had fallen since the evening before, and also that there had been a strong frost to preserve impressions. I passed along the tradesmen’s path, but found it all trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it, however, at the far side of the kitchen door, a woman had stood and talked with a man, whose round impressions on one side showed that he had a wooden leg. I could even tell that they had been disturbed, for the woman had run back swiftly to the door, as was shown by the deep toe and light heel marks, while Wooden-leg had waited a little, and then had gone away. I thought at the time that this might be the maid and her sweetheart, of whom you had already spoken to me, and inquiry showed it was so. I passed round the garden without seeing anything more than random tracks, which I took to be the police; but when I got into the stable lane a very long and complex story was written in the snow in front of me.
“There was a double line of tracks of a booted man, and a second double line which I saw with delight belonged to a man with naked feet. I was at once convinced from what you had told me that the latter was your son. The first had walked both ways, but the other had run swiftly, and as his tread was marked in places over the depression of the boot, it was obvious that he had passed after the other. I followed them up and found they led to the hall window, where Boots had worn all the snow away while waiting. Then I walked to the other end, which was a hundred yards or more down the lane. I saw where Boots had faced round, where the snow was cut up as though there had been a struggle, and, finally, where a few drops of blood had fallen, to show me that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane, and another little smudge of blood showed that it was he who had been hurt. When he came to the high road at the other end, I found that the pavement had been cleared, so there was an end to that clue.
“On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remember, the sill and framework of the hall window with my lens, and I could at once see that someone had passed out. I could distinguish the outline of an instep where the wet foot had been placed in coming in. I was then beginning to be able to form an opinion as to what had occurred. A man had waited outside the window; someone had brought the gems; the deed had been overseen by your son; he had pursued the thief; had struggled with him; they had each tugged at the coronet, their united strength causing injuries which neither alone could have effected. He had returned with the prize, but had left a fragment in the grasp of his opponent. So far I was clear. The question now was, who was the man, and who was it brought him the coronet?
“It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth. Now, I knew that it was not you who had brought it down, so there only remained your niece and the maids. But if it were the maids, why should your son allow himself to be accused in their place? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his cousin, however, there was an excellent explanation why he should retain her secret—the more so as the secret was a disgraceful one. When I remembered that you had seen her at that window, and how she had fainted on seeing the coronet again, my conjecture became a certainty.
“And who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently, for who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must feel to you? I knew that you went out little, and that your circle of friends was a very limited one. But among them was Sir George Burnwell. I had heard of him before as being a man of evil reputation among women. It must have been he who wore those boots and retained the missing gems. Even though he knew that Arthur had discovered him, he might still flatter himself that he was safe, for the lad could not say a word without compromising his own family.
“Well, your own good sense will suggest what measures I took next. I went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George’s house, managed to pick up an acquaintance with his valet, learned that his master had cut his head the night before, and, finally, at the expense of six shillings, made all sure by buying a pair of his cast-off shoes. With these I journeyed down to Streatham and saw that they exactly fitted the tracks.”
“I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening, ” said Mr. Holder.
“Precisely. It was I. I found that I had my man, so I came home and changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had to play then, for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to avert scandal, and I knew that so astute a villain would see that our hands were tied in the matter. I went and saw him. At first, of course, he denied everything. But when I gave him every particular that had occurred, he tried to bluster and took down a life-preserver from the wall. I knew my man, however, and I clapped a pistol to his head before he could strike. Then he became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would give him a price for the stones he held—£ 1000 apiece. That brought out the first signs of grief that he had shown. ‘Why, dash it all! ’ said he, ‘I’ve let them go at six hundred for the three! ’ I soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had them, on promising him that there would be no prosecution. Off I set to him, and after much chaffering I got our stones at £ 1000 apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him that all was right, and eventually got to my bed about two o’clock, after what I may call a really hard day’s work.”
“A day which has saved England from a great public scandal, ” said the banker, rising. “Sir, I cannot find words to thank you, but you shall not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your skill has indeed exceeded all that I have heard of it. And now I must fly to my dear boy to apologise to him for the wrong which I have done him. As to what you tell me of poor Mary, it goes to my very heart. Not even your skill can inform me where she is now.”
“I think that we may safely say, ” returned Holmes, “that she is wherever Sir George Burnwell is. It is equally certain, too, that whatever her sins are, they will soon receive a more than sufficient punishment.”
XII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE COPPER BEECHES
“To the man who loves art for its own sake, ” remarked Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of _The Daily Telegraph_, “it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped this truth that in these little records of our cases which you have been good enough to draw up, and, I am bound to say, occasionally to embellish, you have given prominence not so much to the many _causes célèbres_ and sensational trials in which I have figured but rather to those incidents which may have been trivial in themselves, but which have given room for those faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis which I have made my special province.”
“And yet, ” said I, smiling, “I cannot quite hold myself absolved from the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my records.”
“You have erred, perhaps, ” he observed, taking up a glowing cinder with the tongs and lighting with it the long cherry-wood pipe which was wont to replace his clay when he was in a disputatious rather than a meditative mood—“you have erred perhaps in attempting to put colour and life into each of your statements instead of confining yourself to the task of placing upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect which is really the only notable feature about the thing.”
“It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter, ” I remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism which I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my friend’s singular character.
“No, it is not selfishness or conceit, ” said he, answering, as was his wont, my thoughts rather than my words. “If I claim full justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing—a thing beyond myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell. You have degraded what should have been a course of lectures into a series of tales.”
It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after breakfast on either side of a cheery fire in the old room at Baker Street. A thick fog rolled down between the lines of dun-coloured houses, and the opposing windows loomed like dark, shapeless blurs through the heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit and shone on the white cloth and glimmer of china and metal, for the table had not been cleared yet. Sherlock Holmes had been silent all the morning, dipping continuously into the advertisement columns of a succession of papers until at last, having apparently given up his search, he had emerged in no very sweet temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings.
“At the same time, ” he remarked after a pause, during which he had sat puffing at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, “you can hardly be open to a charge of sensationalism, for out of these cases which you have been so kind as to interest yourself in, a fair proportion do not treat of crime, in its legal sense, at all. The small matter in which I endeavoured to help the King of Bohemia, the singular experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the problem connected with the man with the twisted lip, and the incident of the noble bachelor, were all matters which are outside the pale of the law. But in avoiding the sensational, I fear that you may have bordered on the trivial.”
“The end may have been so, ” I answered, “but the methods I hold to have been novel and of interest.”
“Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public, the great unobservant public, who could hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a compositor by his left thumb, care about the finer shades of analysis and deduction! But, indeed, if you are trivial, I cannot blame you, for the days of the great cases are past. Man, or at least criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As to my own little practice, it seems to be degenerating into an agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies from boarding-schools. I think that I have touched bottom at last, however. This note I had this morning marks my zero-point, I fancy. Read it! ” He tossed a crumpled letter across to me.
It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding evening, and ran thus:
“DEAR MR. HOLMES, —I am very anxious to consult you as to whether I should or should not accept a situation which has been offered to me as governess. I shall call at half-past ten to-morrow if I do not inconvenience you. Yours faithfully,
“‘紫罗兰猎人。’
“Do you know the young lady? ” I asked.
“Not I.”
“It is half-past ten now.”
“Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring.”
“It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You remember that the affair of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to be a mere whim at first, developed into a serious investigation. It may be so in this case, also.”
“Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved, for here, unless I am much mistaken, is the person in question.”
As he spoke the door opened and a young lady entered the room. She was plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, freckled like a plover’s egg, and with the brisk manner of a woman who has had her own way to make in the world.
“You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure, ” said she, as my companion rose to greet her, “but I have had a very strange experience, and as I have no parents or relations of any sort from whom I could ask advice, I thought that perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what I should do.”
“Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything that I can to serve you.”
I could see that Holmes was favourably impressed by the manner and speech of his new client. He looked her over in his searching fashion, and then composed himself, with his lids drooping and his finger-tips together, to listen to her story.
“I have been a governess for five years, ” said she, “in the family of Colonel Spence Munro, but two months ago the colonel received an appointment at Halifax, in Nova Scotia, and took his children over to America with him, so that I found myself without a situation. I advertised, and I answered advertisements, but without success. At last the little money which I had saved began to run short, and I was at my wit’s end as to what I should do.
“There is a well-known agency for governesses in the West End called Westaway’s, and there I used to call about once a week in order to see whether anything had turned up which might suit me. Westaway was the name of the founder of the business, but it is really managed by Miss Stoper. She sits in her own little office, and the ladies who are seeking employment wait in an anteroom, and are then shown in one by one, when she consults her ledgers and sees whether she has anything which would suit them.
“Well, when I called last week I was shown into the little office as usual, but I found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A prodigiously stout man with a very smiling face and a great heavy chin which rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat sat at her elbow with a pair of glasses on his nose, looking very earnestly at the ladies who entered. As I came in he gave quite a jump in his chair and turned quickly to Miss Stoper.
“‘That will do, ’ said he; ‘I could not ask for anything better. Capital! capital! ’ He seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his hands together in the most genial fashion. He was such a comfortable-looking man that it was quite a pleasure to look at him.
“‘You are looking for a situation, miss? ’ he asked.
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘As governess? ’
“‘Yes, sir.’
“‘And what salary do you ask? ’
“‘I had £ 4 a month in my last place with Colonel Spence Munro.’
“‘Oh, tut, tut! sweating—rank sweating! ’ he cried, throwing his fat hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling passion. ‘How could anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with such attractions and accomplishments? ’
“‘My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine, ’ said I. ‘A little French, a little German, music, and drawing—’
“‘Tut, tut! ’ he cried. ‘This is all quite beside the question. The point is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment of a lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are not fitted for the rearing of a child who may some day play a considerable part in the history of the country. But if you have, why, then, how could any gentleman ask you to condescend to accept anything under the three figures? Your salary with me, madam, would commence at £ 100 a year.’
“You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, such an offer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, however, seeing perhaps the look of incredulity upon my face, opened a pocket-book and took out a note.
“‘It is also my custom, ’ said he, smiling in the most pleasant fashion until his eyes were just two little shining slits amid the white creases of his face, ‘to advance to my young ladies half their salary beforehand, so that they may meet any little expenses of their journey and their wardrobe.’
“It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so thoughtful a man. As I was already in debt to my tradesmen, the advance was a great convenience, and yet there was something unnatural about the whole transaction which made me wish to know a little more before I quite committed myself.
“‘May I ask where you live, sir? ’ said I.
“‘Hampshire. Charming rural place. The Copper Beeches, five miles on the far side of Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my dear young lady, and the dearest old country-house.’
“‘And my duties, sir? I should be glad to know what they would be.’
“‘One child—one dear little romper just six years old. Oh, if you could see him killing cockroaches with a slipper! Smack! smack! smack! Three gone before you could wink! ’ He leaned back in his chair and laughed his eyes into his head again.
“I was a little startled at the nature of the child’s amusement, but the father’s laughter made me think that perhaps he was joking.
“‘My sole duties, then, ’ I asked, ‘are to take charge of a single child? ’
“‘No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear young lady, ’ he cried. ‘Your duty would be, as I am sure your good sense would suggest, to obey any little commands my wife might give, provided always that they were such commands as a lady might with propriety obey. You see no difficulty, heh? ’
“‘I should be happy to make myself useful.’
“‘Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are faddy people, you know—faddy but kind-hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress which we might give you, you would not object to our little whim. Heh? ’
“‘No, ’ said I, considerably astonished at his words.
“‘Or to sit here, or sit there, that would not be offensive to you? ’
“‘Oh, no.’
“‘Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us? ’
“I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, Mr. Holmes, my hair is somewhat luxuriant, and of a rather peculiar tint of chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I could not dream of sacrificing it in this offhand fashion.
“‘I am afraid that that is quite impossible, ’ said I. He had been watching me eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a shadow pass over his face as I spoke.
“‘I am afraid that it is quite essential, ’ said he. ‘It is a little fancy of my wife’s, and ladies’ fancies, you know, madam, ladies’ fancies must be consulted. And so you won’t cut your hair? ’
“‘No, sir, I really could not, ’ I answered firmly.
“‘Ah, very well; then that quite settles the matter. It is a pity, because in other respects you would really have done very nicely. In that case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more of your young ladies.’
“The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers without a word to either of us, but she glanced at me now with so much annoyance upon her face that I could not help suspecting that she had lost a handsome commission through my refusal.
“‘Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books? ’ she asked.
“‘If you please, Miss Stoper.’
“‘Well, really, it seems rather useless, since you refuse the most excellent offers in this fashion, ’ said she sharply. ‘You can hardly expect us to exert ourselves to find another such opening for you. Good-day to you, Miss Hunter.’ She struck a gong upon the table, and I was shown out by the page.
“Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodgings and found little enough in the cupboard, and two or three bills upon the table, I began to ask myself whether I had not done a very foolish thing. After all, if these people had strange fads and expected obedience on the most extraordinary matters, they were at least ready to pay for their eccentricity. Very few governesses in England are getting £ 100 a year. Besides, what use was my hair to me? Many people are improved by wearing it short and perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I was inclined to think that I had made a mistake, and by the day after I was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to go back to the agency and inquire whether the place was still open when I received this letter from the gentleman himself. I have it here and I will read it to you:
“‘The Copper Beeches, near Winchester.
“‘DEAR MISS HUNTER, —Miss Stoper has very kindly given me your address, and I write from here to ask you whether you have reconsidered your decision. My wife is very anxious that you should come, for she has been much attracted by my description of you. We are willing to give £ 30 a quarter, or £ 120 a year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience which our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. My wife is fond of a particular shade of electric blue and would like you to wear such a dress indoors in the morning. You need not, however, go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have one belonging to my dear daughter Alice (now in Philadelphia), which would, I should think, fit you very well. Then, as to sitting here or there, or amusing yourself in any manner indicated, that need cause you no inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no doubt a pity, especially as I could not help remarking its beauty during our short interview, but I am afraid that I must remain firm upon this point, and I only hope that the increased salary may recompense you for the loss. Your duties, as far as the child is concerned, are very light. Now do try to come, and I shall meet you with the dog-cart at Winchester. Let me know your train. Yours faithfully,
“‘杰弗罗·鲁卡斯。’
“That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and my mind is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however, that before taking the final step I should like to submit the whole matter to your consideration.”
“Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the question, ” said Holmes, smiling.
“But you would not advise me to refuse? ”
“I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to see a sister of mine apply for.”
“What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes? ”
“Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself formed some opinion? ”
“Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr. Rucastle seemed to be a very kind, good-natured man. Is it not possible that his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep the matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that he humours her fancies in every way in order to prevent an outbreak? ”
“That is a possible solution—in fact, as matters stand, it is the most probable one. But in any case it does not seem to be a nice household for a young lady.”
“But the money, Mr. Holmes, the money! ”
“Well, yes, of course the pay is good—too good. That is what makes me uneasy. Why should they give you £ 120 a year, when they could have their pick for £ 40? There must be some strong reason behind.”
“I thought that if I told you the circumstances you would understand afterwards if I wanted your help. I should feel so much stronger if I felt that you were at the back of me.”
“Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that your little problem promises to be the most interesting which has come my way for some months. There is something distinctly novel about some of the features. If you should find yourself in doubt or in danger—”
“Danger! What danger do you foresee? ”
Holmes shook his head gravely. “It would cease to be a danger if we could define it, ” said he. “But at any time, day or night, a telegram would bring me down to your help.”
“That is enough.” She rose briskly from her chair with the anxiety all swept from her face. “I shall go down to Hampshire quite easy in my mind now. I shall write to Mr. Rucastle at once, sacrifice my poor hair to-night, and start for Winchester to-morrow.” With a few grateful words to Holmes she bade us both good-night and bustled off upon her way.
“At least, ” said I as we heard her quick, firm steps descending the stairs, “she seems to be a young lady who is very well able to take care of herself.”
“And she would need to be, ” said Holmes gravely. “I am much mistaken if we do not hear from her before many days are past.”
It was not very long before my friend’s prediction was fulfilled. A fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts turning in her direction and wondering what strange side-alley of human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual salary, the curious conditions, the light duties, all pointed to something abnormal, though whether a fad or a plot, or whether the man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond my powers to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat frequently for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it. “Data! data! data! ” he cried impatiently. “I can’t make bricks without clay.” And yet he would always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever have accepted such a situation.
The telegram which we eventually received came late one night just as I was thinking of turning in and Holmes was settling down to one of those all-night chemical researches which he frequently indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a test-tube at night and find him in the same position when I came down to breakfast in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope, and then, glancing at the message, threw it across to me.
“Just look up the trains in Bradshaw, ” said he, and turned back to his chemical studies.
The summons was a brief and urgent one.
“Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday to-morrow, ” it said. “Do come! I am at my wit’s end.
“猎人。”
“Will you come with me? ” asked Holmes, glancing up.
“I should wish to.”
“Just look it up, then.”
“There is a train at half-past nine, ” said I, glancing over my Bradshaw. “It is due at Winchester at 11:30.”
“That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the morning.”
By eleven o’clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a man’s energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage.
“Are they not fresh and beautiful? ” I cried with all the enthusiasm of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street.
But Holmes shook his head gravely.
“Do you know, Watson, ” said he, “that it is one of the curses of a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there.”
“Good heavens! ” I cried. “Who would associate crime with these dear old homesteads? ”
“They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.”
“You horrify me! ”
“But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard’s blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbours, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of complaint can set it going, and there is but a step between the crime and the dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser. Had this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I should never have had a fear for her. It is the five miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she is not personally threatened.”
“No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away.”
“Quite so. She has her freedom.”
“What _can_ be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation? ”
“I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is correct can only be determined by the fresh information which we shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of the cathedral, and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell.”
The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no distance from the station, and there we found the young lady waiting for us. She had engaged a sitting-room, and our lunch awaited us upon the table.
“I am so delighted that you have come, ” she said earnestly. “It is so very kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I should do. Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me.”
“Pray tell us what has happened to you.”
“I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. Rucastle to be back before three. I got his leave to come into town this morning, though he little knew for what purpose.”
“Let us have everything in its due order.” Holmes thrust his long thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen.
“In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is only fair to them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and I am not easy in my mind about them.”
“What can you not understand? ”
“Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just as it occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and drove me in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he said, beautifully situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp and bad weather. There are grounds round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourth a field which slopes down to the Southampton high road, which curves past about a hundred yards from the front door. This ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all round are part of Lord Southerton’s preserves. A clump of copper beeches immediately in front of the hall door has given its name to the place.
“I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. There was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to us to be probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is not mad. I found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much younger than her husband, not more than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be less than forty-five. From their conversation I have gathered that they have been married about seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child by the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mr. Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I can quite imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable with her father’s young wife.
“Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as in feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. She was a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light grey eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every little want and forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her also in his bluff, boisterous fashion, and on the whole they seemed to be a happy couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow, this woman. She would often be lost in deep thought, with the saddest look upon her face. More than once I have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so utterly spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is small for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice, little birds, and insects. But I would rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed, he has little to do with my story.”
“I am glad of all details, ” remarked my friend, “whether they seem to you to be relevant or not.”
“I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one unpleasant thing about the house, which struck me at once, was the appearance and conduct of the servants. There are only two, a man and his wife. Toller, for that is his name, is a rough, uncouth man, with grizzled hair and whiskers, and a perpetual smell of drink. Twice since I have been with them he has been quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it. His wife is a very tall and strong woman with a sour face, as silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much less amiable. They are a most unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time in the nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in one corner of the building.
“For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was very quiet; on the third, Mrs. Rucastle came down just after breakfast and whispered something to her husband.
“‘Oh, yes, ’ said he, turning to me, ‘we are very much obliged to you, Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and if you would be so good as to put it on we should both be extremely obliged.’
“The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it bore unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it, which seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting for me in the drawing-room, which is a very large room, stretching along the entire front of the house, with three long windows reaching down to the floor. A chair had been placed close to the central window, with its back turned towards it. In this I was asked to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and down on the other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Mrs. Rucastle, however, who has evidently no sense of humour, never so much as smiled, but sat with her hands in her lap, and a sad, anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so, Mr. Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the day, and that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in the nursery.
“Two days later this same performance was gone through under exactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I sat in the window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny stories of which my employer had an immense _répertoire_, and which he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow-backed novel, and moving my chair a little sideways, that my own shadow might not fall upon the page, he begged me to read aloud to him. I read for about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease and to change my dress.
“You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to what the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly be. They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I soon devised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst of my laughter, I put my handkerchief up to my eyes, and was able with a little management to see all that there was behind me. I confess that I was disappointed. There was nothing. At least that was my first impression. At the second glance, however, I perceived that there was a man standing in the Southampton Road, a small bearded man in a grey suit, who seemed to be looking in my direction. The road is an important highway, and there are usually people there. This man, however, was leaning against the railings which bordered our field and was looking earnestly up. I lowered my handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rucastle to find her eyes fixed upon me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing, but I am convinced that she had divined that I had a mirror in my hand and had seen what was behind me. She rose at once.
“‘Jephro, ’ said she, ‘there is an impertinent fellow upon the road there who stares up at Miss Hunter.’
“‘No friend of yours, Miss Hunter? ’ he asked.
“‘No, I know no one in these parts.’
“‘Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn round and motion to him to go away.’
“‘Surely it would be better to take no notice.’
“‘No, no, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn round and wave him away like that.’
“I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drew down the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have not sat again in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor seen the man in the road.”
“Pray continue, ” said Holmes. “Your narrative promises to be a most interesting one.”
“You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may prove to be little relation between the different incidents of which I speak. On the very first day that I was at the Copper Beeches, Mr. Rucastle took me to a small outhouse which stands near the kitchen door. As we approached it I heard the sharp rattling of a chain, and the sound as of a large animal moving about.
“‘Look in here! ’ said Mr. Rucastle, showing me a slit between two planks. ‘Is he not a beauty? ’
“I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes, and of a vague figure huddled up in the darkness.
“‘Don’t be frightened, ’ said my employer, laughing at the start which I had given. ‘It’s only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, but really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, so that he is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness’ sake don’t you ever on any pretext set your foot over the threshold at night, for it’s as much as your life is worth.’
“The warning was no idle one, for two nights later I happened to look out of my bedroom window about two o’clock in the morning. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in front of the house was silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was standing, rapt in the peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was aware that something was moving under the shadow of the copper beeches. As it emerged into the moonshine I saw what it was. It was a giant dog, as large as a calf, tawny tinted, with hanging jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting bones. It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished into the shadow upon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart which I do not think that any burglar could have done.
“And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as you know, cut off my hair in London, and I had placed it in a great coil at the bottom of my trunk. One evening, after the child was in bed, I began to amuse myself by examining the furniture of my room and by rearranging my own little things. There was an old chest of drawers in the room, the two upper ones empty and open, the lower one locked. I had filled the first two with my linen, and as I had still much to pack away I was naturally annoyed at not having the use of the third drawer. It struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere oversight, so I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The very first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never guess what it was. It was my coil of hair.
“I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint, and the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing obtruded itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in the drawer? With trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the contents, and drew from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two tresses together, and I assure you that they were identical. Was it not extraordinary? Puzzle as I would, I could make nothing at all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer, and I said nothing of the matter to the Rucastles as I felt that I had put myself in the wrong by opening a drawer which they had locked.
“I am naturally observant, as you may have remarked, Mr. Holmes, and I soon had a pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. There was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters of the Tollers opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked. One day, however, as I ascended the stair, I met Mr. Rucastle coming out through this door, his keys in his hand, and a look on his face which made him a very different person to the round, jovial man to whom I was accustomed. His cheeks were red, his brow was all crinkled with anger, and the veins stood out at his temples with passion. He locked the door and hurried past me without a word or a look.
“This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the grounds with my charge, I strolled round to the side from which I could see the windows of this part of the house. There were four of them in a row, three of which were simply dirty, while the fourth was shuttered up. They were evidently all deserted. As I strolled up and down, glancing at them occasionally, Mr. Rucastle came out to me, looking as merry and jovial as ever.
“‘Ah! ’ said he, ‘you must not think me rude if I passed you without a word, my dear young lady. I was preoccupied with business matters.’
“I assured him that I was not offended. ‘By the way, ’ said I, ‘you seem to have quite a suite of spare rooms up there, and one of them has the shutters up.’
“He looked surprised and, as it seemed to me, a little startled at my remark.
“‘Photography is one of my hobbies, ’ said he. ‘I have made my dark room up there. But, dear me! what an observant young lady we have come upon. Who would have believed it? Who would have ever believed it? ’ He spoke in a jesting tone, but there was no jest in his eyes as he looked at me. I read suspicion there and annoyance, but no jest.
“Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I understood that there was something about that suite of rooms which I was not to know, I was all on fire to go over them. It was not mere curiosity, though I have my share of that. It was more a feeling of duty—a feeling that some good might come from my penetrating to this place. They talk of woman’s instinct; perhaps it was woman’s instinct which gave me that feeling. At any rate, it was there, and I was keenly on the lookout for any chance to pass the forbidden door.
“It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, besides Mr. Rucastle, both Toller and his wife find something to do in these deserted rooms, and I once saw him carrying a large black linen bag with him through the door. Recently he has been drinking hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk; and when I came upstairs there was the key in the door. I have no doubt at all that he had left it there. Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle were both downstairs, and the child was with them, so that I had an admirable opportunity. I turned the key gently in the lock, opened the door, and slipped through.
“There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and uncarpeted, which turned at a right angle at the farther end. Round this corner were three doors in a line, the first and third of which were open. They each led into an empty room, dusty and cheerless, with two windows in the one and one in the other, so thick with dirt that the evening light glimmered dimly through them. The centre door was closed, and across the outside of it had been fastened one of the broad bars of an iron bed, padlocked at one end to a ring in the wall, and fastened at the other with stout cord. The door itself was locked as well, and the key was not there. This barricaded door corresponded clearly with the shuttered window outside, and yet I could see by the glimmer from beneath it that the room was not in darkness. Evidently there was a skylight which let in light from above. As I stood in the passage gazing at the sinister door and wondering what secret it might veil, I suddenly heard the sound of steps within the room and saw a shadow pass backward and forward against the little slit of dim light which shone out from under the door. A mad, unreasoning terror rose up in me at the sight, Mr. Holmes. My overstrung nerves failed me suddenly, and I turned and ran—ran as though some dreadful hand were behind me clutching at the skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door, and straight into the arms of Mr. Rucastle, who was waiting outside.
“‘So, ’ said he, smiling, ‘it was you, then. I thought that it must be when I saw the door open.’
“‘Oh, I am so frightened! ’ I panted.
“‘My dear young lady! my dear young lady! ’—you cannot think how caressing and soothing his manner was—‘and what has frightened you, my dear young lady? ’
“But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was keenly on my guard against him.
“‘I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing, ’ I answered. ‘But it is so lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was frightened and ran out again. Oh, it is so dreadfully still in there! ’
“‘Only that? ’ said he, looking at me keenly.
“‘Why, what did you think? ’ I asked.
“‘Why do you think that I lock this door? ’
“‘I am sure that I do not know.’
“‘It is to keep people out who have no business there. Do you see? ’ He was still smiling in the most amiable manner.
“‘I am sure if I had known—’
“‘Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over that threshold again’—here in an instant the smile hardened into a grin of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a demon—‘I’ll throw you to the mastiff.’
“I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that I must have rushed past him into my room. I remember nothing until I found myself lying on my bed trembling all over. Then I thought of you, Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without some advice. I was frightened of the house, of the man, of the woman, of the servants, even of the child. They were all horrible to me. If I could only bring you down all would be well. Of course I might have fled from the house, but my curiosity was almost as strong as my fears. My mind was soon made up. I would send you a wire. I put on my hat and cloak, went down to the office, which is about half a mile from the house, and then returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible doubt came into my mind as I approached the door lest the dog might be loose, but I remembered that Toller had drunk himself into a state of insensibility that evening, and I knew that he was the only one in the household who had any influence with the savage creature, or who would venture to set him free. I slipped in in safety and lay awake half the night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. I had no difficulty in getting leave to come into Winchester this morning, but I must be back before three o’clock, for Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are going on a visit, and will be away all the evening, so that I must look after the child. Now I have told you all my adventures, Mr. Holmes, and I should be very glad if you could tell me what it all means, and, above all, what I should do.”
Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. My friend rose now and paced up and down the room, his hands in his pockets, and an expression of the most profound gravity upon his face.
“Is Toller still drunk? ” he asked.
“Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she could do nothing with him.”
“That is well. And the Rucastles go out to-night? ”
“Yes.”
“Is there a cellar with a good strong lock? ”
“Yes, the wine-cellar.”
“You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very brave and sensible girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could perform one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not think you a quite exceptional woman.”
“I will try. What is it? ”
“We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o’clock, my friend and I. The Rucastles will be gone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller, who might give the alarm. If you could send her into the cellar on some errand, and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate matters immensely.”
“I will do it.”
“Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of course there is only one feasible explanation. You have been brought there to personate someone, and the real person is imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious. As to who this prisoner is, I have no doubt that it is the daughter, Miss Alice Rucastle, if I remember right, who was said to have gone to America. You were chosen, doubtless, as resembling her in height, figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off, very possibly in some illness through which she has passed, and so, of course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a curious chance you came upon her tresses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some friend of hers—possibly her _fiancé_—and no doubt, as you wore the girl’s dress and were so like her, he was convinced from your laughter, whenever he saw you, and afterwards from your gesture, that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no longer desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at night to prevent him from endeavouring to communicate with her. So much is fairly clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition of the child.”
“What on earth has that to do with it? ” I ejaculated.
“My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining light as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don’t you see that the converse is equally valid. I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of parents by studying their children. This child’s disposition is abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty’s sake, and whether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect, or from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their power.”
“I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes, ” cried our client. “A thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you have hit it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing help to this poor creature.”
“We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning man. We can do nothing until seven o’clock. At that hour we shall be with you, and it will not be long before we solve the mystery.”
We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we reached the Copper Beeches, having put up our trap at a wayside public-house. The group of trees, with their dark leaves shining like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun, were sufficient to mark the house even had Miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the door-step.
“Have you managed it? ” asked Holmes.
A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. “That is Mrs. Toller in the cellar, ” said she. “Her husband lies snoring on the kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates of Mr. Rucastle’s.”
“You have done well indeed! ” cried Holmes with enthusiasm. “Now lead the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black business.”
We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a passage, and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss Hunter had described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the transverse bar. Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but without success. No sound came from within, and at the silence Holmes’ face clouded over.
“I trust that we are not too late, ” said he. “I think, Miss Hunter, that we had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put your shoulder to it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our way in.”
It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united strength. Together we rushed into the room. It was empty. There was no furniture save a little pallet bed, a small table, and a basketful of linen. The skylight above was open, and the prisoner gone.
“There has been some villainy here, ” said Holmes; “this beauty has guessed Miss Hunter’s intentions and has carried his victim off.”
“But how? ”
“Through the skylight. We shall soon see how he managed it.” He swung himself up onto the roof. “Ah, yes, ” he cried, “here’s the end of a long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did it.”
“But it is impossible, ” said Miss Hunter; “the ladder was not there when the Rucastles went away.”
“He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were he whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it would be as well for you to have your pistol ready.”
The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at the door of the room, a very fat and burly man, with a heavy stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and confronted him.
“You villain! ” said he, “where’s your daughter? ”
The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at the open skylight.
“It is for me to ask you that, ” he shrieked, “you thieves! Spies and thieves! I have caught you, have I? You are in my power. I’ll serve you! ” He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he could go.
“He’s gone for the dog! ” cried Miss Hunter.
“I have my revolver, ” said I.
“Better close the front door, ” cried Holmes, and we all rushed down the stairs together. We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door.
“My God! ” he cried. “Someone has loosed the dog. It’s not been fed for two days. Quick, quick, or it’ll be too late! ”
Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Toller hurrying behind us. There was the huge famished brute, its black muzzle buried in Rucastle’s throat, while he writhed and screamed upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck. With much labour we separated them and carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house. We laid him upon the drawing-room sofa, and having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news to his wife, I did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him when the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room.
“Mrs. Toller! ” cried Miss Hunter.
“Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went up to you. Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn’t let me know what you were planning, for I would have told you that your pains were wasted.”
“Ha! ” said Holmes, looking keenly at her. “It is clear that Mrs. Toller knows more about this matter than anyone else.”
“Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know.”
“Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark.”
“I will soon make it clear to you, ” said she; “and I’d have done so before now if I could ha’ got out from the cellar. If there’s police-court business over this, you’ll remember that I was the one that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice’s friend too.
“She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn’t, from the time that her father married again. She was slighted like and had no say in anything, but it never really became bad for her until after she met Mr. Fowler at a friend’s house. As well as I could learn, Miss Alice had rights of her own by will, but she was so quiet and patient, she was, that she never said a word about them but just left everything in Mr. Rucastle’s hands. He knew he was safe with her; but when there was a chance of a husband coming forward, who would ask for all that the law would give him, then her father thought it time to put a stop on it. He wanted her to sign a paper, so that whether she married or not, he could use her money. When she wouldn’t do it, he kept on worrying her until she got brain-fever, and for six weeks was at death’s door. Then she got better at last, all worn to a shadow, and with her beautiful hair cut off; but that didn’t make no change in her young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be.”
“Ah, ” said Holmes, “I think that what you have been good enough to tell us makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce all that remains. Mr. Rucastle then, I presume, took to this system of imprisonment? ”
“Yes, sir.”
“And brought Miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of the disagreeable persistence of Mr. Fowler.”
“That was it, sir.”
“But Mr. Fowler being a persevering man, as a good seaman should be, blockaded the house, and having met you succeeded by certain arguments, metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that your interests were the same as his.”
“Mr. Fowler was a very kind-spoken, free-handed gentleman, ” said Mrs. Toller serenely.
“And in this way he managed that your good man should have no want of drink, and that a ladder should be ready at the moment when your master had gone out.”
“You have it, sir, just as it happened.”
“I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller, ” said Holmes, “for you have certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And here comes the country surgeon and Mrs. Rucastle, so I think, Watson, that we had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, as it seems to me that our _locus standi_ now is rather a questionable one.”
And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the copper beeches in front of the door. Mr. Rucastle survived, but was always a broken man, kept alive solely through the care of his devoted wife. They still live with their old servants, who probably know so much of Rucastle’s past life that he finds it difficult to part from them. Mr. Fowler and Miss Rucastle were married, by special license, in Southampton the day after their flight, and he is now the holder of a government appointment in the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no further interest in her when once she had ceased to be the centre of one of his problems, and she is now the head of a private school at Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success.
留言板 · 发现错漏欢迎留言