His Last Bow ........................................................................................................................................................1

Arthur Conan Doyle .................................................................................................................................1

The friends of Mr. Sherlock Holmes will be glad to learn that he is still alive and well, though somewhat

crippled by occasional attacks of rheumatism. He has, for many years, lived in a small farm upon the downs

five miles from Eastbourne, where his time is divided between philosophy and agriculture. During this pe

riod of rest he has refused the most princely offers to take up various cases, having determined that his

retirement was a permanent one. The approach of the German war caused him however, to lay his remarkable

combination of intellectual and practical activity at the disposal of the government, with histori cal results

which are recounted in His Last Bow. Several previ ous experiences which have lain long in my portfolio

I find it recorded in my notebook that it was a bleak and windy day towards the end of March in the year

1892. Holmes had received a telegram while we sat at our lunch, and he had scribbled a reply. He made no

remark, but the matter remained in his thoughts, for he stood in front of the fire afterwards with a thoughtful

face, smoking his pipe, and casting an occasional glance at the message. Suddenly he turned upon me with a

"I suppose, Watson, we must look upon you as a man of letters," said he. "How do you define the word

"There is surely something more than that," said he; "some underlying suggestion of the tragic and the

terrible. If you cast your mind back to some of those narratives with which you have afflicted a

longsuffering public, you will recognize how often the grotesque has deepened into the criminal. Think of

that little affair of the redheaded men. That was grotesque enough in the outset, and yet it ended in a

desperate attempt at robbery. Or, again, there was that most grotesque affair of the five orange pips, which

"Oh, man, of course. No woman would ever send a reply paid telegram. She would have come."

"My dear Watson, you know how bored I have been since we locked up Colonel Carruthers. My mind is like

a racing engine, tearing itself to pieces because it is not connected up with the work for which it was built.

Life is commonplace; the papers are sterile; audacity and romance seem to have passed forever from the

criminal world. Can you ask me, then, whether I am ready to look into any new problem, however trivial it

A measured step was heard upon the stairs, and a moment later a stout, tall, graywhiskered and solemnly

respectable per son was ushered into the room. His life history was written in his heavy features and

pompous manner. From his spats to his goldrimmed spectacles he was a Conservative, a churchman, a good

citizen, orthodox and conventional to the last degree. But same amazing experience had disturbed his native

composure and left its traces in his bristling hair, his flushed, angry cheeks and his flurried, excited manner.

"I have had a most singular and unpleasant experience, Mr. Holmes," said he. "Never in my life have I been

placed in such a situation. It is most improper most outrageous. I must insist upon some explanation." He

"Pray sit down, Mr. Scott Eccles," said Holmes in a soothing voice. "May I ask, in the first place, why you

"Well, sir, it did not appear to be a matter which concerned the police, and yet, when you have heard the

facts, you must admit that I could not leave it where it was. Private detectives are a class with whom I have

"It is a quarterpast two," he said. "Your telegram was dispatched about one. But no one can glance at your

toilet and attire without seeing that your disturbance dates from the mo ment of your waking."

"You are right, Mr. Holmes. I never gave a thought to my toilet. I was only too glad to get out of such a

house. But I have been running round making inquiries before I came to you. I went to the house agents, you

know, and they said that Mr. Garcia's rent was paid up all right and that everything was in order at Wisteria

"Come, come, sir," said Holmes, laughing. "You are like my friend, Dr. Watson, who has a bad habit of

telling his stories wrong end foremost. Please arrange your thoughts and let me know, in their due sequence,

exactly what those events are which have sent you out unbrushed and unkempt, with dress boots and

Our client looked down with a rueful face at his own uncon ventional appearance.

"I'm sure it must look very bad, Mr. Holmes, and I am not aware that in my whole life such a thing has ever

happened before. But I will tell you the whole queer business, and when I have done so you will admit, I am

But his narrative was nipped in the bud. There was a bustle outside, and Mrs. Hudson opened the door to

usher in two robust and officiallooking individuals, one of whom was well known to us as Inspector

Gregson of Scotland Yard, an energetic, gallant, and, within his limitations, a capable officer. He shook

hands with Holmes and introduced his comrade as Inspector Baynes, of the Surrey Constabulary.

"We are hunting together, Mr. Holmes and our trail lay in this direction." He turned his bulldog ejes upon our

"Exactly, Mr. Holmes. We picked up the scent at Charing Cross PostOffice and came on here."

"We wish a statement, Mr. Scott Eccles, as to the events which led up to the death last night of Mr. Aloysius

Our client had sat up with staring eyes and every tinge of colour struck from his astonished face.

"A letter of yours was found in the dead man's pocket, and we know by it that you had planned to pass last

"Wait a bit, Gregson," said Sherlock Holmes. "All you desire is a plain statement, is it not?"

"Mr. Eccles was going to tell us about it when you entered the room. I think, Watson, a brandy and soda

would do him no harm. Now, sir, I suggest that you take no notice of this addition to your audience, and that

you proceed with your narrative exactly as you would have done had you never been interrupted. "

Our visitor had gulped off the brandy and the colour had returned to his face. With a dubious glance at the

"I am a bachelor," said he, "and being of a sociable turn I cultivate a large number of friends. Among these

are the family of a retired brewer called Melville, living at Albemarle Mansion, Kensington. It was at his

table that I met some weeks ago a young fellow named Garcia. He was, I understood, of Spanish descent and

connected in some way with the embassy. He spoke perfect English, was pleasing in his manners, and as

"In some way we struck up quite a friendship, this young fellow and I. He seemed to take a fancy to me from

the first, and within two days of our meeting he came to see me at Lee. One thing led to another, and it ended

in his inviting me out to spend a few days at his house, Wisteria Lodge, between Esher and Oxshott.

"He had described his household to me before I went there. He lived with a faithful servant, a countryman of

his own, who looked after all his needs. This fellow could speak English and did his housekeeping for him.

Then there was a wonderful cook he said, a halfbreed whom he had picked up in his travels, who could

serve an excellent dinner. I remember that he remarked what a queer household it was to find in the heart of

Surrey, and that I agreed with him, though it has proved a good deal queerer than I thought.

"I drove to the place about two miles on the south side of Esher. The house was a fairsized one, standing

back from the road, with a curving drive which was banked with high ever green shrubs. It was an old,

tumbledown building in a crazy state of disrepair. When the trap pulled up on the grassgrown drive in

front of the blotched and weatherstained door, I had doubts as to my wisdom in visiting a man whom I knew

so slightly. He opened the door himself, however, and greeted me wlth a great show of cordiality. I was

handed over to the manservant, a melancholy, swarthy individual, who led the way, my bag in his hand, to

my bedroom. The whole place was depressing. Our dinner was teteatete, and though my host did his best

to be entertaining, his thoughts seemed to continually wander, and he talked so vaguely and wildly that I

could hardly understand him. He continually drummed his fingers on the table, gnawed his nails, and gave

other signs of nervous impa tience. The dinner itself was neither well served nor well cooked, and the

gloomy presence of the taciturn servant did not help to enliven us. I can assure you that many times in the

course of the evening I wished that I could invent some excuse which would take me back to Lee.

"One thing comes back to my memory which may have a bearing upon the business that you two gentlemen

are investigat ing. I thought nothing of it at the time. Near the end of dinner a note was handed in by the

servant. I noticed that after my host had read it he seemed even more distrait and strange than before. He gave

up all pretence at conversation and sat, smoking endless cigarettes, lost in his own thoughts, but he made no

remark as to the contents. About eleven I was glad to go to bed. Some time later Garcia looked in at my door

the room was dark at the time and asked me if I had rung. I said that I had not. He apologized for

having disturbed me so late, saying that it was nearly one o'clock. I dropped off after this and slept soundly

"And now I come to the amazing part of my tale. When I woke it was broad daylight. I glanced at my watch,

and the time was nearly nine. I had particularly asked to be called at eight, so I was very much astonished at

this forgetfulness. I sprang up and rang for the servant. There was no response. I rang again and again, with

the same result. Then I came to the conclusion that the bell was out of order. I huddled on my clothes and

hurried downstairs in an exceedingly bad temper to order some hot water. You can imagine my surprise when

I found that there was no one there. I shouted in the hall. There was no answer. Then I ran from room to

room. All were deserted. My host had shown me which was his bedroom the night before, so I knocked at the

door. No reply. I turned the handle and walked in. The room was empty, and the bed had never been slept in.

He had gone with the rest. The foreign host, the foreign footman, the foreign cook, all had vanished in the

Sherlock Holmes was rubbing his hands and chuckling as he added this bizarre incident to his collection of

"Your experience is, so far as I know, perfectly unique," said he. "May I ask, sir, what you did then?"

"I was furious. My first idea was that I had been the victim of some absurd practical joke. I packed my things,

banged the hall door behind me, and set off for Esher, with my bag in my hand. I called at Allan Brothers, the

chief land agents in the village, and found that it was from this firm that the villa had been rented. It struck

me that the whole proceeding could hardly be for the purpose of making a fool of me, and that the main

object must be to get out of the rent. It is late in March, so quarterday is at hand. But this theory would not

work. The agent was obliged to me for my warning, but told me that the rent had been paid in advance. Then

I made my way to town and called at the Spanish embassy. The man was unknown there. After this I went to

see Melville, at whose house I had first met Garcia, but I found that he really knew rather less about him than

I did. Finally when I got your reply to my wire I came out to you, since I gather that you are a person who

gives advice in difficult cases. But now, Mr. Inspector, I understand, from what you said when you entered

the room, that you can carry the story on, and that some tragedy has occurred. I can assure you that every

word I have said is the truth, and that, outside of what I have told you, I know absolutely nothing about the

"I am sure of it, Mr. Scott Eccles I am sure of it," said Inspector Gregson in a very amiable tone. "I am

bound to say that everything which you have said agrees very closely with the facts as they have come to our

notice. For example, there was that note which arrived during dinner. Did you chance to observe what

The country detective was a stout, puffy, red man, whose face was only redeemed from grossness by two

extraordinarily bright eyes, almost hidden behind the heavy creases of cheek and brow. With a slow smile he

"It was a doggrate, Mr. Holmes, and he overpitched it. I picked this out unburned from the back of it."

"You must have examined the house very carefully to find a single pellet of paper."

"The note is written upon ordinary creamlaid paper without watermark. It is a quartersheet. The paper is

cut off in two snips with a shortbladed scissors. It has been folded over three times and sealed with purple

wax, put on hurriedly and pressed down with some flat oval object. It is addressed to Mr. Garcia, Wiste ria

It is a woman's writing, done with a sharppointed pen, but the address is either done with another pen or by

"A very remarkable note," said Holmes, glancing it over. "I must compliment you, Mr. Baynes, upon your

attention to detail in your examination of it. A few trifling points might perhaps be added. The oval seal is

undoubtedly a plain sleevelink what else is of such a shape? The scissors were bent nail scissors. Short

"I thought I had squeezed all the juice out of it, but I see there was a little over," he said. "I'm bound to say

that I make nothing of the note except that there was something on hand, and that a woman, as usual, was at

"I am glad you found the note, since it corroborates my story," said he. "But I beg to point out that I have not

yet heard what has happened to Mr. Garcia, nor what has become of his household."

"As to Garcia," said Gregson, "that is easily answered. He was found dead this morning upon Oxshott

Common, nearly a mile from his home. His head had been smashed to pulp by heavy blows of a sandbag or

some such instrument, which had crushed rather than wounded. It is a lonely corner, and there is no house

within a quarter of a mile of the spot. He had appar ently been struck down first from behind, but his

assailant had gone on beating him long after he was dead. It was a most furious assault. There are no

"This lis very painful very painful and terrible," said Mr. Scott Eccles in a querulous voice, "but it is really

uncommonly hard upon me. I had nothing to do with my host going off upon a nocturnal excursion and

"Very simply, sir," Inspector Baynes answered. "The only document found in the pocket of the deceased was

a letter from you saying that you would be with him on the night of his death. It was the envelope of this

letter which gave us the dead man's name and address. It was after nine this morning when we reached his

house and found neither you nor anyone else inside it. I wired to Mr. Gregson to run you down in London

while I examined Wisteria Lodge. Then I came into town, joined Mr. Gregson, and here we are."

"I think now," said Gregson, rising, "we had best put this matter into an official shape. You will come round

with us to the station, Mr. Scott Eccles, and let us have your statement in writing."

"Certainly, I will come at once. But I retain your services, Mr. Holmes. I desire you to spare no expense and

"I suppose that you have no objection to my collaborating with you, Mr. Baynes?"

"You appear to have been very prompt and businesslike in all that you have done. Was there any clue, may I

"He had been there since one o'clock. There was rain about that time, and his death had certainly been before

"But that is perfectly impossible, Mr. Baynes," cried our client. "His voice is unmistakable. I could swear to it

"On the face of it the case is not a very complex one, though it certainly presents some novel and interesting

features. A fur ther knowledge of facts is necessary before I would venture to give a final and definite

opinion. By the way, Mr. Baynes, did you find anything remarkable besides this note in your examina tion

"There were," said he, "one or two vely remarkable things. Perhaps when I have finished at the policestation

"I am entirely at your service," said Sherlock Holmes, ring ing the bell. "You will show these gentlemen

out, Mrs. Hudson, and kindly send the boy with this telegram. He is to pay a fiveshilling reply."

We sat for some time in silence after our visitors had left. Holmes smoked hard, with his brows drawn down

over his keen eyes, and his head thrust forward in the eager way characteristic of the man.

"Well, taken with the disappearance of the man's compan ions, I should say that they were in some way

"That is certainly a possible point of view. On the face of it you must admit, however, that it is very strange

that his two servants should have been in a conspiracy against him and should have attacked him on the one

night when he had a guest. They had him alone at their mercy every other night in the week."

"Quite so. Why did they fly? There is a big fact. Another big fact is the remarkable experience of our client,

Scott Eccles. Now, my dear Watson, is it beyond the limits of human ingenu ity to furnish an explanation

which would cover both these big facts? If it were one which would also admit of the mysterious note with its

very curious phraseology, why, then it would be worth accepting as a temporary hypothesis. If the fresh facts

which come to our knowledge all fit themselves into the scheme, then our hypothesis may gradually become

"You must admit, my dear Watson, that the idea of a joke is impossible. There were grave events afoot, as the

sequel showed, and the coaxing of Scott Eccles to Wisteria Lodge had some connection with them."

"Let us take it link by link. There is, on the face of it something unnatural about this strange and sudden

friendship between the young Spaniard and Scott Eccles. It was the former who forced the pace. He called

upon Eccles at the other end of London on the very day after he first met him, and he kept in close touch with

him until he got him down to Esher. Now, what did he want with Eccles? What could Eccles supply? I see no

charm in the man. He is not particularly intelligent not a man likely to be congenial to a quickwitted

Latin. Why, then, was he picked out from all the other people whom Garcia met as particu larly suited to his

purpose? Has he any one outstanding quality? I say that he has. He is the very type of conventional British

respectability, and the very man as a witness to impress another Briton. You saw yourself how neither of the

"Nothing, as things turned out, but everything had they gone another way. That is how I read the matter."

"Exactly, my dear Watson; he might have proved an alibi. We will suppose, for argument's sake, that the

household of Wisteria Lodge are confederates in some design. The attempt, whatever it may be, is to come

off, we will say, before one o'clock. By some juggling of the clocks it is quite possible that they may have got

Scott Eccles to bed earlier than he thought but in any case it is likely that when Garcia went out of his way to

tell him that it was one it was really not more than twelve. If Garcia could do whatever he had to do and be

back by the hour mentioned he had evidently a powerful reply to any accusation. Here was this

irreproachable Englishman ready to swear in any court of law that the accused was in his house all the time. It

"I have not all my facts yet, but I do not think there are any insuperable difficulties. Still, it is an error to

argue in front of your data. You find yourself insensibly twisting them round to fit your theories."

"How did it run? 'Our own colours, green and white.' Sounds like racing. 'Green open, white shut.~ That is

clearly a signal. 'Main stair, first corridor, seventh right, green baize.' This is an assignation. We may find a

jealous husband at the bottom of it all. It was clearly a dangerous quest. She would not have said 'Godspeed'

"The man was a Spaniard. I suggest that 'D' stands for Dolores, a common female name in Spain."

"Good, Watson, very good but quite inadmissible. A Spaniard would write to a Spaniard in Spanish. The

writer of this note is certainly English. Well, we can only possess our souls in pa tience until this excellent

inspector comes back for us. Meanwhile we can thank our lucky fate which has rescued us for a few short

An answer had arrived to Holmes's telegram before our Surrey officer had returned. Holmes read it and was

about to place it in his notebook when he caught a glimpse of my expectant face. He tossed it across with a

"This is a very obvious way of limiting our field of opera tions," said Holmes. "No doubt Baynes, with his

"Well, my dear fellow, we have already arrived at the conclu sion that the message received by Garcia at

dinner was an appointment or an assignation. Now, if the obvious reading of it is correct, and in order to keep

this tryst one has to ascend a main stair and seek the seventh door in a corridor, it is perfectly clear that the

house is a very large one. It is equally certain that this house cannot be more than a mile or two from Oxshott

since Garcia was walking in that direction and hoped, according to my reading of the facts, to be back in

Wisteria Lodge in time to avail himself of an alibi, which would only be valid up to one o'clock. As the

number of large houses close to Oxshott must be limited, I adopted the obvious method of sending to the

agents mentioned by Scott Eccles and obtaining a list of them. Here they are in this telegram, and the other

It was nearly six o'clock before we found ourselves in the pretty Surrey village of Esher, with Inspector

Holmes and I had taken things for the night, and found comfortable quarters at the Bull. Finally we set out in

the company of the detective on our visit to Wisteria Lodge. lt was a cold, dark March evening, with a sharp

wind and a fine rain beating upon our faces, a fit setting for the wild common over which our road passed and

A cold and melancholy walk of a couple of miles brought us to a high wooden gate, which opened into a

gloomy avenue of chestnuts. The curved and shadowed drive led us to a low, dark house, pitchblack against

a slatecoloured sky. From the front window upon the left of the door there peeped a glimmer of a feeble

"There's a constable in possession," said Baynes. "I'll knock at the window." He stepped across the grass plot

and tapped with his hand on the pane. Through the fogged glass I dimly saw a man spring up from a chair

beside the fire, and heard a sharp cry from within the room. An instant later a whitefaced, hard breathing

The man mopped his forehead with his handkerchief and gave a long sigh of relief.

"I am glad you have come, sir. It has been a long evening, and l don't think my nerve is as good as it was."

"Well, sir, it's this lonely, silent house and the queer thing in the kitchen. Then when you tapped at the

"It was just about two hours ago. The light was just fading. I was sitting reading in the chair. I don't know

what made me look up, but there was a face looking in at me through the lower pane. Lord, sir, what a face it

"I know sir, I know; but it shook me sir, and there's no use to deny it. it wasn't black, sir, nor was it white, nor

any colour that I know, but a kind of queer shade like clay with a splash of milk in it. Then there was the size

of it it was twice yours, sir. And the look of it the great staring goggle eyes, and the line of white teeth

like a hungry beast. I tell you, sir, I couldn't move a finger, nor get my breath, till it whisked away and was

gone. Out I ran and through the shrubbery, but thank God there was no one there."

"If I didn't know you were a good man, Walters, I should put a black mark against you for this. If it were the

devil himself a constable on duty should never thank God that he could not lay his hands upon him. I suppose

"That, at least, is very easily settled," said Holmes, lighting his little pocket lantern. "Yes," he reported, after

a short exami nation of the grass bed, "a number twelve shoe, I should say. If he was all on the same scale as

"Well," said the inspector with a grave and thoughtful face, "whoever he may have been, and whatever he

may have wanted, he's gone for the present, and we have more immediate things to attend to. Now, Mr.

The various bedrooms and sittingrooms had yielded nothing to a careful search. Apparently the tenants had

brought little or nothing with them, and all the furniture down to the smallest details had been taken over with

the house. A good deal of clothing with the stamp of Marx and Co., High Holborn, had been left behind.

Telegraphic inquiries had been already made which showed that Marx knew nothing of his customer save

that he was a good payer. Odds and ends, some pipes, a few novels, two of them in Spanish, an

"Nothing in all this," said Baynes, stalking, candle in hand, from room to room. "But now, Mr. Holmes, I

It was a gloomy, highceilinged room at the back of the house, with a straw litter in one corner, which served

apparently as a bed for the cook. The table was piled with halfeaten dishes and dirty plates, the debris of last

He held up his candle before an extraordinary object which stood at the back of the dresser. It was so

wrinkled and shrunken and withered that it was difficult to say what it might have been. One could but say

that it was black and leathery and that it bore some resemblance to a dwarfish, human figure. At first, as I

examined it, I thought that it was a mummified negro baby, and then it seemed a very twisted and ancient

monkey. Finally I was left in doubt as to whether it was animal or human. A double band of white shells was

"Very interesting very interesting, indeed!" said Holmes, peering at this sinister relic. "Anything more?"

In silence Baynes led the way to the sink and held forward his candle. The limbs and body of some large,

white bird, torn savagely to pieces with the feathers still on, were littered all over it. Holmes pointed to the

But Mr. Baynes had kept his most sinister exhibit to the last. From under the sink he drew a zinc pail which

contained a quantity of blood. Then from the table he took a platter heaped with small pieces of charred bone.

"Something has been killed and something has been burned. We raked all these out of the fire. We had a

"I must congratulate you, Inspector, on handling so distinc tive and instructive a case. Your powers, if I may

"You're right, Mr. Holmes. We stagnate in the provinces. A case of this sort gives a man a chance, and I hope

"Yes, sir, there must have been some very strange people with some very strange ways in this house. One of

them is dead. Did his companions follow him and kill him? If they did we should have them, for every port is

watched. But my own views are different. Yes, sir, my own views are very different."

"And I'll work it myself, Mr. Holmes. It's only due to my own credit to do so. Your name is made, but I have

still to make mine. I should be glad to be able to say afterwards that I had solved it without your help."

"Well, well, Inspector," said he. "Do you follow your path and I will follow mine. My results are always very

much at your service if you care to apply to me for them. I think that I have seen all that I wish in this house,

and that my time may be more profitably employed elsewhere. Au revoir and good luck!"

I could tell by numerous subtle signs, which might have been lost upon anyone but myself, that Holmes was

on a hot scent. As impassive as ever to the casual observer, there were none the less a subdued eagerness and

suggestion of tension in his brightened eyes and brisker manner which assured me that the game was afoot.

After his habit he said nothing, and after mine I asked no questions. Sufficient for me to share the sport and

lend my humble help to the capture without distracting that intent brain with needless interruption. All would

I waited, therefore but to my everdeepening disappointment I waited in vain. Day succeeded day, and

my friend took no step forward. One morning he spent in town, and I learned from a casual reference that he

had visited the British Museum. Save for this one excursion, he spent his days in long and often solitary

walks, or in chatting with a number of village gossips whose acquaintance he had cultivated.

"I'm sure, Watson, a week in the country will be invaluable to you," he remarked. "It is very pleasant to see

the first green shoots upon the hedges and the catkins on the hazels once again. With a spud, a tin box, and an

elementary book on botany, there are instructive days to be spent." He prowled about with this equipment

himself, but it was a poor show of plants which he would bring back of an evening.

Occasionally in our rambles we came across Inspector Baynes. His fat, red face wreathed itself in smiles and

his small eyes glittered as he greeted my companion. He said little about the case, but from that little we

gathered that he also was not dissatisfied at the course of events. I must admit, however, that I was somewhat

surprised when, some five days after the crime, I opened my morning paper to find in large letters:

"Really we must see Baynes at once," cried Holmes, picking up his hat. "We will just catch him before he

starts." We hurried down the village street and found, as we had expected, that the inspector was just leaving

"Yes, Baynes, I've seen it. Pray don't think it a liberty if I give you a word of friendly warning."

"I have looked into this case with some care, and I am not convinced that you are on the right lines. I don't

It seemed to me that something like a wink quivered for an instant over one of Mr. Baynes's tiny eyes.

"No, sir; I believe you mean well by me. But we all have our own systems, Mr. Holmes. You have yours, and

"You're welcome always to my news. This fellow is a perfect savage, as strong as a carthorse and as fierce

as the devil. He chewed Downing's thumb nearly off before they could master him. He hardly speaks a word

"I didn't say so, Mr. Holmes I didn't say so. We all have our little ways. You try yours and I will try mine.

Holmes shrugged his shoulders as we walked away together. "I can't make the man out. He seems to be riding

for a fall. Well, as he says, we must each try our own way and see what comes of it. But there's something in

"Just sit down in that chair, Watson," said Sherlock Holmes when we had returned to our apartment at the

Bull. "I want to put you in touch with the situation, as I may need your help tonight. Let me show you the

evolution of this case so far as I have been able to follow it. Simple as it has been in its leading features, it has

none the less presented surprising difficulties in the way of an arrest. There are gaps in that direction which

"We will go back to the note which was handed in to Garcia upon the evening of his death. We may put aside

this idea of Baynes's that Garcia's servants were concerned in the matter. The proof of this lies in the fact that

it was he who had arranged for the presence of Scott Eccles, which could only have been done for the

purpose of an alibi. It was Garcia, then, who had an enterprise, and apparently a criminal enterprise, in hand

that night in the course of which he met his death. I say 'criminal' because only a man with a criminal

enterprise desires to establish an alibi. Who, then, is most likely to have taken his life? Surely the person

against whom the criminal enterprise was directed. So far it seems to me that we are on safe ground.

"We can now see a reason for the disappearance of Garcia's household. They were all confederates in the

same unknown crime. If it came off when Garcia returned, any possible suspi cion would be warded off by

the Englishman's evidence, and all would be well. But the attempt was a dangerous one, and if Garcia did not

return by a certain hour it was probable that his own life had been sacrificed. It had been arranged, therefore,

that in such a case his two subordinates were to make for some prearranged spot where they could escape

investigation and be in a position afterwards to renew their attempt. That would fully explain the facts, would

The whole inexplicable tangle seemed to straighten out before me. I wondered, as I always did, how it had

"We can imagine that in the confusion of flight something precious, something which he could not bear to

part with, had been left behind. That would explain his persistence, would it not?"

"The next step is the note received by Garcia at the dinner. It indicates a confederate at the other end. Now,

where was the other end? I have already shown you that it could only lie in some large house, and that the

number of large houses is limited. My first days in this village were devoted to a series of walks in which in

the intervals of my botanical researches I made a reconnaissance of all the large houses and an examination

of the family history of the occupants. One house, and only one, riveted my attention. It is the famous old

Jacobean grange of High Gable, one mile on the farther side of Oxshott, and less than half a mile from the

scene of the tragedy. The other mansions belonged to prosaic and respectable people who live far aloof from

romance. But Mr. Henderson, of High Gable, was by all accounts a curious man to whom curious adventures

might befall. I concentrated my attention, therefore, upon him and his household.

"A singular set of people, Watson the man himself the most singular of them all. I managed to see him on

a plausible pretext, but I seemed to read in his dark, deepset, brooding eyes that he was perfectly aware of

my true business. He is a man of fifty, strong, active, with irongray hair, great bunched black eye brows,

the step of a deer, and the air of an emperor a fierce, masterful man, with a redhot spirit behind his

parchment face. He is either a foreigner or has lived long in the tropics, for he is yellow and sapless, but

tough as whipcord. His friend and secretary, Mr. Lucas, is undoubtedly a foreigner, chocolate brown, wily,

suave, and catlike, with a poisonous gentleness of speech. You see, Watson, we have come already upon

two sets of foreigners one at Wisteria Lodge and one at High Gable so our gaps are beginning to close.

"These two men, close and confidential friends, are the centre of the household; but there is one other person

who for our immediate purpose may be even more important. Henderson has two children girls of eleven

and thirteen. Their governess is a Miss Burnet, an Englishwoman of forty or thereabouts. There is also one

confidential manservant. This little group forms the real family, for they travel about together, and Henderson

is a great traveller, always on the move. It is only within the last few weeks that he has returned, after a year's

absence, to High Gable. I may add that he is enormously rich, and whatever his whims may be he can very

easily satisfy them. For the rest, his house is full of butlers, footmen, maidservants, and the usual overfed,

"So much I learned partly from village gossip and partly from my own observation. There are no better

instruments than dis charged servants with a grievance, and I was lucky enough to find one. I call it luck,

but it would not have come my way had I not been looking out for it. As Baynes remarks, we all have our

systems. It was my system which enabled me to find John Warner, late gardener of High Gable, sacked in a

moment of temper by his imperious employer. He in turn had friends among the indoor servants who unite in

their fear and dislike of their master. So I had my key to the secrets of the establishment.

"Curious people, Watson! I don't pretend to understand it all yet, but very curious people anyway. It's a

doublewinged house and the servants live on one side, the family on the other. There's no link between the

two save for Henderson's own servant, who serves the family's meals. Everything is carried to a certain door,

which forms the one connection. Governess and children hardly go out at all, except into the garden.

Henderson never by any chance walks alone. His dark secretary is like his shadow. The gossip among the

servants is that their master is terribly afraid of something. 'Sold his soul to the devil in ex change for

money,' says Warner, 'and expects his creditor to come up and claim his own.' Where they came from, or who

they are, nobody has an idea. They are very violent. Twice Henderson has lashed at folk with his dogwhip,

"Well, now, Watson, let us judge the situation by this new information. We may take it that the letter came

out of this strange household and was an invitation to Garcia to carry out some attempt which had already

been planned. Who wrote the note? It was someone within the citadel, and it was a woman. Who then but

Miss Burnet, the governess? All our reasoning seems to point that way. At any rate, we may take it as a

hypothesis and see what consequences it would entail. I may add that Miss Burnet's age and character make it

certain that my first idea that there might be a love interest in our story is out of the question.

"If she wrote the note she was presumably the friend and confederate of Garcia. What, then, might she be

expected to do if she heard of his death? If he met it in some nefarious enter prise her lips might be sealed.

Still, in her heart, she must retain bitterness and hatred against those who had killed him and would

presumably help so far as she could to have revenge upon them. Could we see her, then, and try to use her?

That was my first thought. But now we come to a sinister fact. Miss Burnet has not been seen by any human

eye since the night of the murder. From that evening she has utterly vanished. Is she alive? Has she perhaps

met her end on the same night as the friend whom she had summoned? Or is she merely a prisoner? There is

"You will appreciate the difficulty of the situation, Watson. There is nothing upon which we can apply for a

warrant. Our whole scheme might seem fantastic if laid before a magistrate. The woman's disappearance

counts for nothing, since in that extraordinary household any member of it might be invisible for a week. And

yet she may at the present moment be in danger of her life. All I can do is to watch the house and leave my

agent, Warner, on guard at the gates. We can't let such a situation continue. If the law can do nothing we must

"I know which is her room. It is accessible from the top of an outhouse. My suggestion is that you and I go

It was not, I must confess, a very alluring prospect. The old house with its atmosphere of murder, the singular

and formidable inhabitants, the unknown dangers of the approach, and the fact that we were putting ourselves

legally in a false position all combined to damp my ardour. But there was something in the icecold

reasoning of Holmes which made it impossible to shrink from any adventure which he might recommend.

One knew that thus, and only thus, could a solution be found. I clasped his hand in silence, and the die was

But it was not destined that our investigation should have so adventurous an ending. It was about five o'clock,

and the shad ows of the March evening were beginning to fall, when an excited rustic rushed into our room.

"They've gone, Mr. Holmes. They went by the last train. The lady broke away, and I've got her in a cab

"Excellent, Warner!" cried Holmes, springing to his feet. "Watson, the gaps are closing rapidly."

In the cab was a woman, halfcollapsed from nervous exhaus tion. She bore upon her aquiline and

emaciated face the traces of some recent tragedy. Her head hung listlessly upon her breast, but as she raised it

and turned her dull eyes upon us I saw that her pupils were dark dots in the centre of the broad gray iris. She

"I watched at the gate, same as you advised, Mr. Holmes," said our emissary, the discharged gardener. "When

the carriage came out I followed it to the station. She was like one walking in her sleep, but when they tried

to get her into the train she came to life and struggled. They pushed her into the carriage. She fought her way

out again. I took her part, got her into a cab, and here we are. I shan't forget the face at the carriage window as

I led her away. I'd have a short life if he had his way the blackeyed, scowling, yellow devil."

We carried her upstairs, laid her on the sofa, and a couple of cups of the strongest coffee soon cleared her

brain from the mists of the drug. Baynes had been summoned by Holmes, and the situation rapidly explained

"Why, sir, you've got me the very evidence I want," said the inspector warmly, shaking my friend by the

"Why, Mr. Holmes, when you were crawling in the shrub bery at High Gable I was up one of the trees in the

plantation and saw you down below. It was just who would get his evidence first."

"I was sure Henderson, as he calls himself, felt that he was suspected, and that he would lie low and make no

move so long as he thought he was in any danger. I arrested the wrong man to make him believe that our eyes

were off him. I knew he would be likely to clear off then and give us a chance of getting at Miss Burnet."

"You will rise high in your profession. You have instinct and intuition," said he.

"I've had a plainclothes man waiting at the station all the week. Wherever the High Gable folk go he will

keep them in sight. But he must have been hard put to it when Miss Burnet broke away. However, your man

picked her up, and it all ends well. We can't arrest without her evidence, that is clear, so the sooner we get a

"Every minute she gets stronger," said Holmes, glancing at the governess. "But tell me, Baynes, who is this

"Henderson," the inspector answered, "is Don Murillo, once called the Tiger of San Pedro."

The Tiger of San Pedro! The whole history of the man came back to me in a flash. He had made his name as

the most lewd and bloodthirsty tyrant that had ever governed any country with a pretence to civilization.

Strong, fearless, and energetic, he had sufficient virtue to enable him to impose his odious vices upon a

cowering people for ten or twelve years. His name was a terror through all Central America. At the end of

that time there was a universal rising against him. But he was as cunning as he was cruel, and at the first

whisper of coming trouble he had secretly conveyed his treasures aboard a ship which was manned by

devoted adherents. It was an empty palace which was stormed by the insurgents next day. The dictator, his

two children, his secretary, and his wealth had all escaped them. From that mo ment he had vanished from

the world, and his identity had been a frequent subject for comment in the European press.

"Yes, sir, Don Murillo, the Tiger of San Pedro," said Baynes. "If you look it up you will find that the San

Pedro colours are green and white, same as in the note, Mr. Holmes. Henderson he called himself, but I

traced him back, Paris and Rome and Madrid to Barcelona, where his ship came in in '86. They've been

looking for him all the time for their revenge, but it is only now that they have begun to find him out."

"They discovered him a year ago," said Miss Burnet, who had sat up and was now intently following the

conversation. "Once already his life has been attempted, but some evil spirit shielded him. Now, again, it is

the noble, chivalrous Garcia who has fallen, while the monster goes safe. But another will come, and yet

another, until some day justice will be done; that is as certain as the rise of tomorrow's sun." Her thin hands

"But how come you into this matter Miss Burnet?" asked Holmes. "How can an English lady join in such a

"I join in it because there is no other way in the world by which justice can be gained. What does the law of

England care for the rivers of blood shed years ago in San Pedro, or for the shipload of treasure which this

man has stolen? To you they are like crimes committed in some other planet. But we know. We have learned

the truth in sorrow and in suffering. To us there is no fiend in hell like Juan Murillo, and no peace in life

"No doubt," said Holmes, "he was as you say I have heard that he was atrocious. But how are you affected?"

"I will tell you it all. This villain's policy was to murder, on one pretext or another, every man who showed

such promise that he might in time come to be a dangerous rival. My husband yes, my real name is

Signora Victor Durando was the San Pedro minister in London. He met me and married me there. A

nobler man never lived upon earth. Unhappily, Murillo heard of his excellence, recalled him on some pretext,

and had him shot. With a premonition of his fate he had refused to take me with him. His estates were

"Then came the downfall af the tyrant. He escaped as you have just described. But the many whose lives he

had ruined, whose nearest and dearest had suffered torture and death at his hands, would not let the matter

rest. They banded themselves into a society which should never be dissolved until the work was done. It was

my part after we had discovered in the trans formed Henderson the fallen despot, to attach myself to his

household and keep the others in touch with his movements. This I was able to do by securing the position of

governess in his family. He little knew that the woman who faced him at every meal was the woman whose

husband he had hurried at an hour's notice into eternity. I smiled on him, did my duty to his children, and

bided my time. An attempt was made in Paris and failed. We zigzagged swiftly here and there over Europe

to throw off the pursuers and finally retulned to this house, which he had taken upon his first arrival in

"But here also the ministers of justice were waiting. Knowing that he would return there, Garcia, who is the

son of the former highest dignitary in San Pedlro, was waiting with two trusty companions of humble station,

all three fired with the same reasons for revenge. He could do little during the day, for Murillo took every

precaution and never went out save with his satellite Lucas, or Lopez as he was known in the days of his

greatness. At night, however, he slept alone, and the avenger might find him. On a certain evening, which had

been prear ranged, I sent my friend final instructions, for the man was forever on the alert and continually

changed his room. I was to see that the doors were open and the signal of a green or white light in a window

which faced the drive was to give notice if all was safe or if the attempt had better be postponed.

"But everything went wrong with us. In some way I had excited the suspicion of Lopez, the secretary. He

crept up behind me and sprang upon me just as I had finished the note. He and his master dragged me to my

room and held judgment upon me as a convicted traitress. Then and there they would have plunged their

knives into me could they have seen how to escape the consequences of the deed. Finally, after much debate,

they concluded that my murder was too dangerous. But they deter mined to get rid forever of Garcia. They

had gagged me, and Murillo twisted my arm round until I gave him the address. I swear that he might have

twisted it off had I understood what it would mean to Garcia. Lopez addressed the note which I had written,

sealed it with his sleevelink, and sent it by the hand of the servant, Jose. How they murdered him I do not

know, save that it was Murillo's hand who struck him down, for Lopez had remained to guard me. I believe

he must have waited among the gorse bushes through which the path winds and struck him down as he

passed. At first they were of a mind to let him enter the house and to kill him as a detected burglar; but they

argued that if they were mixed up in an inquiry their own identity would at once be publicly disclosed and

they would be open to further attacks. With the death of Garcia, the pursuit might cease, since such a death

"All would now have been well for them had it not been for my knowledge of what they had done. I have no

doubt that there were times when my life hung in the balance. I was confined to my room, terrorized by the

most horrible threats, cruelly illused to break my spirit see this stab on my shoulder and the bruises from

end to end of my arms and a gag was thrust into my mouth on the one occasion when I tried to call from

the window. For five days this cruel imprisonment continued, with hardly enough food to hold body and soul

together. This afternoon a good lunch was brought me, but the moment after I took it I knew that I had been

drugged. In a sort of dream I remember being halfled, halfcarried to the carriage; in the same state I was

conveyed to the train. Only then, when the wheels were almost moving, did I suddenly realize that my liberty

lay in my own hands. I sprang out, they tried to drag me back, and had it not been for the help of this good

man, who led me to the cab, I should never have broken away. Now, thank God, I am beyond their power

We had all listened intently to this remarkable statement. It was Holmes who broke the silence.

"Our difficulties are not over," he remarked, shaking his head. "Our police work ends, but our legal work

"Exactly," said I. "A plausible lawyer could make it out as an act of selfdefence. There may be a hundred

"Come, come," said Baynes cheerily, "I think better of the law than that. Selfdefence is one thing. To entice

a man in cold blood with the object of murdering him is another, whatever danger you may fear from him.

No, no, we shall all be justified when we see the tenants of High Gable at the next Guildford Assizes."

It is a matter of history, however, that a little time was still to elapse before the Tiger of San Pedro should

meet with his deserts. Wily and bold, he and his companion threw their pur suer off their track by entering a

lodginghouse in Edmonton Street and leaving by the backgate into Curzon Square. From that day they

were seen no more in England. Some six months afterwards the Marquess of Montalva and Signor Rulli, his

secre tary, were both murdered in their rooms at the Hotel Escurial at Madrid. The crime was ascribed to

Nihilism, and the murderers were never arrested. Inspector Baynes visited us at Baker Street with a printed

description of the dark face of the secretary, and of the masterful features, the magnetic black eyes, and the

tufted brows of his master. We could not doubt that justice, if belated, had come at last.

"A chaotic case, my dear Watson," said Holmes over an evening pipe. "It will not be possible for you to

present it in that compact form which is dear to your heart. It covers two conti nents, concerns two groups of

mysterious persons, and is further complicated by the highly respectable presence of our friend, Scott Eccles,

whose inclusion shows me that the deceased Garcia had a scheming mind and a welldeveloped instinct of

self preservation. It is remarkable only for the fact that amid a perfect jungle of possibilities we, with our

worthy collaborator, the inspector, have kept our close hold on the essentials and so been guided along the

"I think that the strange creature in the kitchen may account for it. The man was a primitive savage from the

backwoods of San Pedro, and this was his fetish. When his companion and he had fled to some prearranged

retreat already occupied, no doubt by a confederate the companion had persuaded him to leave so

compromising an article of furniture. But the mulatto's heart was with it, and he was driven back to it next

day, when, on reconnoitring through the window, he found policeman Walters in possession. He waited three

days longer, and then his piety or his superstition drove him to try once more. Inspector Baynes, who, with

his usual astuteness, had minimized the incident before me, had really recognized its importance and had left

"The torn bird, the pail of blood, the charred bones, all the mystery of that weird kitchen?"

"I spent a morning in the British Museum reading up on that and other points. Here is a quotation from

"So you see our savage friend was very orthodox in his ritual. It is grotesque, Watson," Holmes added, as he

slowly fastened his notebook, "but, as I have had occasion to remark, there is but one step from the grotesque

In the third week of November, in the year 1895, a dense yellow fog settled down upon London. From the

Monday to the Thurs day I doubt whether it was ever possible from our windows in Baker Street to see the

loom of the opposite houses. The first day Holmes had spent in crossindexing his huge book of references.

The second and third had been patiently occupied upon a subject which he had recently made his hobby

the music of the Middle Ages. But when, for the fourth time, after pushing back our chairs from breakfast we

saw the greasy, heavy brown swirl still drifting past us and condensing in oily drops upon the window

panes, my comrade's impatient and active nature could endure this drab existence no longer. He paced

restlessly about our sittingroom in a fever of suppressed energy, biting his nails, tapping the furniture, and

I was aware that by anything of interest, Holmes meant any thing of criminal interest. There was the news

of a revolution, of a possible war, and of an impending change of government; but these did not come within

the horizon of my companion. I could see nothing recorded in the shape of crime which was not

"The London criminal is certainly a dull fellow," said he in the querulous voice of the sportsman whose game

has failed him. "Look out of this window, Watson. See how the figures loom up, are dimly seen, and then

blend once more into the cloud bank. The thief or the murderer could roam London on such a day as the

tiger does the jungle, unseen until he pounces, and then evident only to his victim."

"This great and sombre stage is set for something more worthy than that," said he. "It is fortunate for this

"Suppose that I were Brooks or Woodhouse, or any of the fifty men who have good reason for taking my life,

how long could I survive against my own pursuit? A summons, a bogus appointment, and all would be over.

It is well they don't have days of fog in the Latin countries the countries of assassination. By Jove! here

"Why not? It is as if you met a tramcar coming down a country lane. Mycroft has his rails and he runs on

them. His Pall Mall lodgings, the Diogenes Club, Whitehall that is his cycle. Once, and only once, he has

"It recalls nothing to my mind. But that Mycroft should break out in this erratic fashion! A planet might as

I had some vague recollection of an explanation at the time of the Adventure of the Greek Interpreter.

"I did not know you quite so well in those days. One has to be discreet when one talks of high matters of

state. You are right in thinking that he is under the British government. You would also be right in a sense if

"I thought I might surprise you. Mycroft draws four hundred and fifty pounds a year, remains a subordinate,

has no ambitions of any kind, will receive neither honour nor title, but remains the most indispensable man in

"Well, his position is unique. He has made it for himself. There has never been anything like it before, nor

will be again. He has the tidiest and most orderly brain, with the greatest capacity for storing facts, of any

man living. The same great powers which I have turned to the detection of crime he has used for this

particular business. The conclusions of every department are passed to him, and he is the central exchange,

the clearing house, which makes out the balance. All other men are special ists, but his specialism is

omniscience. We will suppose that a minister needs information as to a point which involves the Navy, India,

Canada and the bimetallic question; he could get his separate advices from various departments upon each,

but only Mycroft can focus them all, and say offhand how each factor would affect the other. They began by

using him as a shortcut, a convenience; now he has made himself an essential. In that great brain of his

everything is pigeonholed and can be handed out in an instant. Again and again his word has decided the

national policy. He lives in it. He thinks of nothing else save when, as an intellectual exercise, he unbends if I

call upon him and ask him to advise me on one of my little problems. But Jupiter is descending today. What

"I have it," I cried, and plunged among the litter of papers upon the sofa. "Yes, yes, here he is, sure enough!

Cadogan West was the young man who was found dead on the Under ground on Tuesday morning."

"This must be serious, Watson. A death which has caused my brother to alter his habits can be no ordinary

one. What in the world can he have to do with it? The case was featureless as I remember it. The young man

had apparently fallen out of the train and killed himself. He had not been robbed, and there was no particular

"There has been an inquest," said I, "and a good many fresh facts have come out. Looked at more closely, I

"Judging by its effect upon my brother, I should think it must be a most extraordinary one." He snuggled

"The man's name was Arthur Cadogan West. He was twenty seven years of age, unmarried, and a clerk at

"He left Woolwich suddenly on Monday night. Was last seen by his fiancee, Miss Violet Westbury, whom he

left abruptly in the fog about 7:30 that evening. There was no quarrel between them and she can give no

motive for his action. The next thing heard of him was when his dead body was discovered by a platelayer

"The body was found at six on the Tuesday morning. It was lying wide of the metals upon the left hand of the

track as one goes eastward, at a point close to the station, where the line emerges from the tunnel in which it

runs. The head was badly crushed an injury which might well have been caused by a fall from the train.

The body could only have come on the line in that way. Had it been carried down from any neighbouring

street, it must have passed the station barriers, where a collector is always standing. This point seems

"Very good. The case is definite enough. The man, dead or alive, either fell or was precipitated from a train.

"The trains which traverse the lines of rail beside which the body was found are those which run from west to

east, some being purely Metropolitan, and some from Willesden and outly ing junctions. It can be stated for

certain that this young man when he met his death, was travelling in this direction at some late hour of the

"No ticket! Dear me, Watson, this is really very singular. According to my experience it is not possible to

reach the platform of a Metropolitan train without exhibiting one's ticket. Presumably, then, the young man

had one. Was it taken from him in order to conceal the station from which he came? It is possible. Or did he

drop it in the carriage? That also is possible. But the point is of curious interest. I understand that there was

"Apparently not. There is a list here of his possessions. His purse contained two pounds fifteen. He had also a

checkbook on the Woolwich branch of the Capital and Counties Bank. Through this his identity was

established. There were also two dresscircle tickets for the Woolwich Theatre, dated for that very evening.

"There we have it at last, Watson! British government Woolwich. Arsenal technical papers Brother

Mycroft, the chain is complete. But here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to speak for himself."

A moment later the tall and portly form of Mycroft Holmes was ushered into the room. Heavily built and

massive, there was a suggestion of uncouth physical inertia in the figure, but above this unwieldy frame there

was perched a head so masterful in its brow, so alert in its steelgray, deepset eyes, so firm in its lips, and so

subtle in its play of expression, that after the first glance one forgot the gross body and remembered only the

At his heels came our old friend Lestrade, of Scotland Yard thin and austere. The gravity of both their

faces foretold some weighty quest. The detective shook hands without a word. Mycroft Holmes struggled out

"A most annoying business, Sherlock," said he. "I extremely dislike altering my habits, but the powers that be

would take no denial. In the present state of Siam it is most awkward that I should be away from the office.

But it is a real crisis. I have never seen the Prime Minister so upset. As to the Admiralty it is buzzing like

"Ah, there's the point! Fortunately, it has not come out. The press would be furious if it did. The papers which

this wretched youth had in his pocket were the plans of the BrucePartington submarine."

Mycroft Holmes spoke with a solemnity which showed his sense of the importance of the subject. His brother

"Its importance can hardly be exaggerated. It has been the most jealously guarded of all government secrets.

You may take it from me that naval warfare becomes impossible within the radius of a BrucePartington's

operation. Two years ago a very large sum was smuggled through the Estimates and was ex pended in

acquiring a monopoly of the invention. Every effort has been made to keep the secret. The plans, which are

exceed ingly intricate, comprising some thirty separate patents, each essential to the working of the whole,

are kept in an elaborate safe in a confidential office adjoining the arsenal, with burglar proof doors and

windows. Under no conceivable circumstances were the plans to be taken from the office. If the chief

construc tor of the Navy desired to consult them, even he was forced to go to the Woolwich office for the

purpose. And yet here we find them in the pocket of a dead junior clerk in the heart of London. From an

"No, Sherlock, no! That's the pinch. We have not. Ten papers were taken from Woolwich. There were seven

in the pocket of Cadogan West. The three most essential are gone stolen, vanished. You must drop

everything, Sherlock. Never mind your usual petty puzzles of the policecourt. It's a vital international

problem that you have to solve. Why did Cadogan West take the papers, where are the missing ones, how did

he die, how came his body where it was found, how can the evil be set right? Find an answer to all these

"Possibly, Sherlock. But it is a question of getting details. Give me your details, and from an armchair I will

return you an excellent expert opinion. But to run here and run there, to crossquestion railway guards, and

lie on my face with a lens to my eye it is not my metier. No, you are the one man who can clear the matter

"I play the game for the game's own sake," said he. "But the problem certainly presents some points of

interest, and I shall be very pleased to look into it. Some more facts, please."

"I have jotted down the more essential ones upon this sheet of paper, together with a few addresses which you

will find of service. The actual official guardian of the papers is the famous government expert, Sir James

Walter. whose decorations and subtitles fill two lines of a book of reference. He has grown gray in the

service, is a gentleman, a favoured guest in the most exalted houses, and, above all, a man whose patriotism

is beyond suspicion. He is one of two who have a key of the safe. I may add that the papers were undoubtedly

in the office during work ing hours on Monday, and that Sir James left for London about three o'clock

taking his key with him. He was at the house of Admiral Sinclair at Barclay Square during the whole of the

"Yes; his brother, Colonel Valentine Walter, has testified to his departure from Woolwich, and Admiral

Sinclair to his arrival in London; so Sir James is no longer a direct factor in the problem."

"The senior clerk and draughtsman, Mr. Sidney Johnson. He is a man of forty, married, with five children. He

is a silent, morose man, but he has, on the whole, an excellent record in the public service. He is unpopular

with his colleagues, but a hard worker. According to his own account, corroborated only by the word of his

wife, he was at home the whole of Monday evening after office hours, and his key has never left the

"He has been ten years in the service and has done good work. He has the reputation of being hotheaded and

impetuous, but a straight, honest man. We have nothing against him. He was next to Sidney Johnson in the

office. His duties brought him into daily, personal contact with the plans. No one else had the handling of

"Well, it is surely perfectly clear who took them away. They are actually found upon the person of this junior

"It does, Sherlock, and yet it leaves so much unexplained. In the first place, why did he take them?"

"Can you suggest any possible motive for taking the papers to London except to sell them?"

"Then we must take that as our working hypothesis. Young West took the papers. Now this could only be

"He had, then, several false keys. He took the papers to London to sell the secret, intending, no doubt, to have

the plans themselves back in the safe next morning before they were missed. While in London on this

"We will suppose that he was travelling back to Woolwich when he was killed and thrown out of the

"Aldgate, where the body was found, is considerably past the station for London Bridge, which would be his

"Many circumstances could be imagined under which he would pass London Bridge. There was someone in

the carriage, for example, with whom he was havitlg an absorbing interview. This interview led to a violent

scene in which he lost his life. Possibly he tried to leave the carriage, fell out on the line, and so met his end.

"No better explanation can be given with our present knowl edge; and yet consider, Sherlock, how much

you leave un touched. We will suppose, for argument's sake, that young Cadogan West had determined to

convey these papers to Lon don. He would naturally have made an appointment with the foreign agent and

kept his evening clear. Instead of that he took two tickets for the theatre, escorted his fiancee halfway there,

"A blind," said Lestrade, who had sat listening with some impatience to the conversation.

"A very singular one. That is objection No. 1. Objection No. 2: We will suppose that he reaches London and

sees the foreign agent. He must bring back the papers before morning or the loss will be discovered. He took

away ten. Only seven were in his pocket. What had become of the other three? He certainly would not leave

them of his own free will. Then, again, where is the price of his treason? One would have expected to find a

"It seems to me perfectly clear," said Lestrade. "I have no doubt at all as to what occurred. He took the papers

to sell them. He saw the agent. They could not agree as to price. He started home again, but the agent went

with him. In the train the agent murdered him, took the more essential papers, and threw his body from the

"The ticket would have shown which station was nearest the agent's house. Therefore he took it from the

"Good, Lestrade, very good," said Holmes. "Your theory holds together. But if this is true, then the case is at

an end. On the one hand, the traitor is dead. On the other, the plans of the BrucePartington submarine are

"To act, Sherlock to act!" cried Mycroft, springing to his feet. "All my instincts are against this

explanation. Use your powers! Go to the scene of the crime! See the people concerned! Leave no stone

unturned! In all your career you have never had so great a chance of serving your country."

"Well, well!" said Holmes, shrugging his shoulders. "Come, Watson! And you, Lestrade, could you favour us

with your company for an hour or two? We will begin our investigation by a visit to Aldgate Station.

Goodbye, Mycroft. I shall let you have a report before evening, but I warn you in advance that you have

An hour later Holmes, Lestrade and I stood upon the Under ground railroad at the point where it emerges

from the tunnel immediately before Aldgate Station. A courteous redfaced old gentleman represented the

"This is where the young man's body lay," said he, indicat ing a spot about three feet from the metals. "It

could not have fallen from above, for these, as you see, are all blank walls. Therefore, it could only have

come from a train, and that train, so far as we can trace it, must have passed about midnight on Monday."

"We have had some fresh evidence this morning," said Lestrade. "A passenger who passed Aldgate in an

ordinary Metropolitan train about 11:40 on Monday night declares that he heard a heavy thud, as of a body

striking the line, just before the train reached the station. There was dense fog, however, and nothing could be

seen. He made no report of it at the time. Why whatever is the matter with Mr. Holmes?"

My friend was standing with an expression of strained inten sity upon his face, staring at the railway metals

where they curved out of the tunnel. Aldgate is a junction, and there was a network of points. On these his

eager, questioning eyes were fixed, and I saw on his keen, alert face that tightening of the lips, that quiver of

"An idea an indication, no more. But the case certainly grows in interest. Unique, perfectly unique, and

"And yet one would have expected some bleeding. Would it be possible for me to inspect the train which

"I fear not, Mr. Holmes. The train has been broken up before now, and the carriages redistributed."

"I can assure you, Mr. Holmes," said Lestrade, "that every carriage has been carefully examined. I saw to it

It was one of my friend's most obvious weaknesses that he was impatient with less alert intelligences than his

"Very likely," said he, turning away. "As it happens, it was not the carriages which I desired to examine.

Watson, we have done all we can here. We need not trouble you any further, Mr. Lestrade. I think our

At London Bridge, Holmes wrote a telegram to his brother, which he handed to me before dispatching it. It

"That should be helpful, Watson," he remarked as we took our seats in the Woolwich train. "We certainly

owe Brother Mycroft a debt for having introduced us to what promises to be a really very remarkable case."

His eager face still wore that expression of intense and high strung energy, which showed me that some

novel and suggestive circumstance had opened up a stimulating line of thought. See the foxhound with

hanging ears and drooping tail as it lolls about the kennels, and compare it with the same hound as, with

gleaming eyes and straining muscles, it runs upon a breasthigh scent such was the change in Holmes

since the morning. He was a different man from the limp and lounging figure in the mousecoloured

dressinggown who had prowled so restlessly only a few hours before round the foggirt room.

"There is material here. There is scope," said he. "I am dull indeed not to have understood its possibilities."

"The end is dark to me also, but I have hold of one idea which may lead us far. The man met his death

"Remarkable, is it not? But consider the facts. Is it a coinci dence that it is found at the very point where the

train pitches and sways as it comes round on the points? Is not that the place where an object upon the roof

might be expected to fall off? The points would affect no object inside the train. Either the body fell from the

roof, or a very curious coincidence has occurred. But now consider the question of the blood. Of course, there

was no bleeding on the line if the body had bled elsewhere. Each fact is suggestive in itself. Together they

"Exactly. We could not explain the absence of a ticket. This would explain it. Everything fits together."

"But suppose it were so, we are still as far as ever from unravelling the mystery of his death. Indeed, it

"Perhaps," said Holmes thoughtfully, "perhaps." He re lapsed into a silent reverie, which lasted until the

slow train drew up at last in Woolwich Station. There he called a cab and drew Mycroft's paper from his

"We have quite a little round of afternoon calls to make," said he. "I think that Sir James Walter claims our

The house of the famous official was a fine villa with green lawns, stretching down to the Thames. As we

reached it the fog was lifting, and a thin, watery sunshine was breaking through. A butler answered our ring.

"Perhaps you would care to step in, sir, and see his brother, Colonel Valentine?"

We were ushered into a dimlit drawingroom, where an in stant later we were joined by a very tall,

handsome, light bearded man of fifty, the younger brother of the dead scientist. His wild eyes, stained

cheeks, and unkempt hair all spoke of the sudden blow which had fallen upon the household. He was hardly

"It was this horrible scandal," said he. "My brother, Sir James, was a man of very sensitive honour, and he

could not survive such an affair. It broke his heart. He was always so proud of the efficiency of his

"We had hoped that he might have given us some indications which would have helped us to clear the matter

"I assure you that it was all a mystery to him as it is to you and to all of us. He had already put all his

knowledge at the disposal of the police. Naturally he had no doubt that Cadogan West was guilty. But all the

"I know nothing myself save what I have read or heard. I have no desire to be discourteous, but you can

understand, Mr. Holmes, that we are much disturbed at present, and I must ask you to hasten this interview to

"This is indeed an unexpected development," said my friend when we had regained the cab. "I wonder if the

death was natural, or whether the poor old fellow killed himself! If the latter, may it be taken as some sign of

selfreproach for duty neglected? We must leave that question to the future. Now we shall turn to the

A small but wellkept house in the outskirts of the town sheltered the bereaved mother. The old lady was too

dazed with grief to be of any use to us, but at her side was a whitefaced young lady, who introduced herself

as Miss Violet Westbury, the fiancee of the dead man, and the last to see him upon that fatal night.

"I cannot explain it, Mr. Holmes," she said. "I have not shut an eye since the tragedy, thinking, thinking,

thinking, night and day, what the true meaning of it can be. Arthur was the most singleminded, chivalrous,

patriotic man upon earth. He would have cut his right hand off before he would sell a State secret confided to

"No; his needs were very simple and his salary ample. He had saved a few hundreds, and we were to marry at

"No signs of any mental excitement? Come, Miss Westbury, be absolutely frank with us."

The quick eye of my companion had noted some change in her manner. She coloured and hesitated.

"Yes," she said at last, "I had a feeling that there was something on his mind."

"Only for the last week or so. He was thoughtful and worried. Once I pressed him about it. He admitted that

there was some thing, and that it was concerned with his official life. 'It is too serious for me to speak about,

"Go on, Miss Westbury. Even if it seems to tell against him, go on. We cannot say what it may lead to."

"Indeed, I have nothing more to tell. Once or twice it seemed to me that he was on the point of telling me

something. He spoke one evening of the importance of the secret, and I have some recollection that he said

"He said that we were slack about such matters that it would be easy for a traitor to get the plans."

"We were to go to the theatre. The fog was so thick that a cab was useless. We walked, and our way took us

"He gave an exclamation; that was all. I waited but he never returned. Then I walked home. Next morning,

after the office opened, they came to inquire. About twelve o'clock we heard the terrible news. Oh, Mr.

"Come, Watson," said he, "our ways lie elsewhere. Our next station must be the office from which the papers

"It was black enough before against this young man, but our inquiries make it blacker," he remarked as the

cab lumbered off. "His coming marriage gives a motive for the crime. He naturally wanted money. The idea

was in his head, since he spoke about it. He nearly made the girl an accomplice in the treason by telling her

"But surely, Holmes, character goes for something? Then, again, why should he leave the girl in the street

"Exactly! There are certainly objections. But it is a formida ble case which they have to meet."

Mr. Sidney Johnson, the senior clerk, met us at the office and recelved us with that respect which my

companion's card always commanded. He was a thin, gruff, bespectacled man of middle age, his cheeks

haggard, and his hands twitching from the nervous strain to which he had been subjected.

"The place is disorganized. The chief dead, Cadogan West dead, our papers stolen. And yet, when we closed

our door on Monday evening, we were as efficient an office as any in the government service. Good God, it's

"I can see no other way out of it. And yet I would have trusted him as I trust myself."

"There is, but he has other departments to look after as well. He is an old soldier and a most trustworthy man.

"Suppose that Cadogan West wished to make his way into the building after hours; he would need three keys,

"Yes, he would. The key of the outer door, the key of the office, and the key of the safe."

"Yes, I think he was. I know that so far as those three keys are concerned he kept them on the same ring. I

"Then West, if he is the culprit, must have had a duplicate. And yet none was found upon his body. One other

point: if a clerk in this office desired to sell the plans, would it not be simpler to copy the plans for himself

"It would take considerable technical knowledge to copy the plans in an effective way."

"No doubt we had, but I beg you won't try to drag me into the matter, Mr. Holmes. What is the use of our

"Well, it is certainly singular that he should run the risk of taking originals if he could safely have taken

"Every inquiry in this case reveals something inexplicable. Now there are three papers still missing. They are,

"Do you mean to say that anyone holding these three papers and without the seven others, could construct a

"I reported to that effect to the Admiralty. But today I have been over the drawings again, and I am not so

sure of it. The double valves with the automatic selfadjusting slots are drawn in one of the papers which

have been returned. Until the foreigners had invented that for themselves they could not make the boat. Of

"I think, with your permission, I will now take a stroll round me premises. I do not recall any other question

He examined the lock of the safe, the door of the room, and finally the iron shutters of the window. It was

only when we were on the lawn outside that his interest was strongly excited. There was a laurel bush outside

the window, and several of the branches bore signs of having been twisted or snapped. He examined them

carefully with his lens, and then some dim and vague marks upon the earth beneath. Finally he asked the

chief clerk to close the iron shutters, and he pointed out to me that they hardly met in the centre, and that it

"The indications are ruined by the three days' delay. They may mean something or nothing. Well, Watson, I

do not think that Woolwich can help us further. It is a small crop which we have gathered. Let us see if we

Yet we added one more sheaf to our harvest before we left Woolwich Station. The clerk in the ticket office

was able to say with confidence that he saw Cadogan West whom he knew well by sight upon the

Monday night, and that he went to London by the 8:15 to London Bridge. He was alone and took a single

thirdclass ticket. The clerk was struck at the time by his excited and nervous manner. So shaky was he that

he could hardly pick up his change, and the clerk had helped him with it. A reference to the timetable showed

that the 8:15 was the first train which it was possible for West to take after he had left the lady about 7:30.

"Let us reconstruct, Watson," said Holmes after half an hour of silence. "I am not aware that in all our joint

researches we have ever had a case which was more difficult to get at. Every fresh advance which we make

only reveals a fresh ridge beyond. And yet we have surely made some appreciable progress.

"The effect of our inquiries at Woolwich has in the main been against young Cadogan West; but the

indications at the window would lend themselves to a more favourable hypothesis. Let us suppose, for

example, that he had been approached by some foreign agent. It might have been done under such pledges as

would have prevented him from speaking of it, and yet would have affected his thoughts in the direction

indicated by his remarks to his fiancee. Very good. We will now suppose that as he went to the theatre with

the young lady he suddenly, in the fog, caught a glimpse of this same agent going in the direction of the

office. He was an impetuous man, quick in his decisions. Everything gave way to his duty. He followed the

man, reached the window, saw the abstraction of the documents, and pursued the thief. In this way we get

over the objection that no one would take originals when he could make copies. This outsider had to take

"Then we come into difficulties. One would imagine that under such circumstances the first act of young

Cadogan West would be to seize the villain and raise the alarm. Why did he not do so? Could it have been an

official superior who took the papers? That would explain West's conduct. Or could the chief have given

West the slip in the fog, and West started at once to London to head him off from his own rooms, presuming

that he knew where the rooms were? The call must have been very pressing, since he left his girl standing in

the fog and made no effort to communicate with her. Our scent runs cold here, and there is a vast gap

between either hypothesis and the laying of West's body, with seven papers in his pocket, on the roof of a

Metropolitan train. My instinct now is to work from the other end. If Mycroft has given us the list of

Surely enough, a note awaited us at Baker Street. A govern ment messenger had brought it posthaste.

"I'm afraid," said Holmes, smiling, "that all the queen's horses and all the queen's men cannot avail in this

matter." He had spread out his big map of London and leaned eagerly over it. "Well, well," said he presently

with an exclamation of satisfac tion, "things are turning a little in our direction at last. Why Watson, I do

honestly believe that we are going to pull it off, after all." He slapped me on the shoulder with a sudden burst

of hilarity. "I am going out now. It is only a reconnaissance. I will do nothing serious without my trusted

comrade and biographer at my elbow. Do you stay here, and the odds are that you will see me again in an

hour or two. If time hangs heavy get foolscap and a pen, abd begin your narrative of how we saved the State."

I felt some reflection of his elation in my own mind, for I knew well that he would not depart so far from his

usual austerity of demeanour unless there was good cause for exulta tion. All the long November evening I

waited, filled with impa tience for his return. At last, shortly after nine o'clock, there arrived a messenger

It was a nice equipment for a respectable citizen to carry through the dim, fogdraped streets. I stowed them

all discreetly away in my overcoat and drove straight to the address given. There sat my friend at a little

"Have you had something to eat? Then join me in a coffee and curacao. Try one of the proprietor's cigars.

"Excellent. Let me give you a short sketch of what I have done, with some indication of what we are about to

do. Now it must be evident to you, Watson, that this young man's body was placed on the roof of the train.

That was clear from the instant that I determined the fact that it was from the roof, and not from a carriage,

"I should say it was impossible. If you examine the roofs you will find that they are slightly rounded, and

there is no railing round them. Therefore, we can say for certain that young Cadogan West was placed on it."

"That was the question which we had to answer. There is only one possible way. You are aware that the

Underground runs clear of tunnels at some points in the West End. I had a vague memory that as I have

travelled by it I have occasionally seen windows just above my head. Now, suppose that a train halted under

"We must fall back upon the old axiom that when all other contingencies fail, whatever remains, however

improbable, must be the truth. Here all other contingencies have failed. When I found that the leading

international agent, who had just left London, lived in a row of houses which abutted upon the Under

ground, I was so pleased that you were a little astonished at my sudden frivolity."

"Yes, that was it. Mr. Hugo Oberstein, of 13 Caulfield Gardens, had become my objective. I began my

operations at Gloucester Road Station, where a very helpful official walked with me along the track and

allowed me to satisfy myself not only that the backstair windows of Caulfield Gardens open on the line but

the even more essential fact that, owing to the intersection of one of the larger railways, the Underground

"So far so far, Watson. We advance, but the goal is afar. Well, having seen the back of Caulfield Gardens,

I visited the front and satisfied myself that the bird was indeed flown. It is a considerable house, unfurnished,

so far as I could judge, in the upper rooms. Oberstein lived there with a single valet, who was probably a

confederate entirely in his confidence. We must bear in mind that Oberstein has gone to the Continent to

dispose of his booty, but not with any idea of flight; for he had no reason to fear a warrant, and the idea of an

amateur domiciliary visit would certainly never occur to him. Yet that is precisely what we are about to

"My dear fellow, you shall keep watch in the street. I'll do the criminal part. It's not a time to stick at trifles.

Think of Mycroft's note, of the Admiralty, the Cabinet, the exalted person who waits for news. We are bound

"I knew you would not shrink at the last," said he, and for a moment I saw something in his eyes which was

nearer to tender ness than I had ever seen. The next instant he was his masterful, practical self once more.

"It is nearly half a mile, but there is no hurry. Let us walk," said he. "Don't drop the instruments, I beg. Your

Caulfield Gardens was one of those lines of flatfaced, pillared, and porticoed houses which are so prominent

a product of the middle Victorian epoch in the West End of London. Next door there appeared to be a

children's party, for the merry buzz of young voices and the clatter of a piano resounded through the night.

The fog still hung about and screened us with its friendly shade. Holmes had lit his lantern and flashed it

"This is a serious proposition," said he. "It is certainly bolted as well as locked. We would do better in the

area. There is an excellent archway down yonder in case a too zealous policeman should intrude. Give me a

A minute later we were both in the area. Hardly had we reached the dark shadows before the step of the

policeman was heard in the fog above. As its soft rhythm died away, Holmes set to work upon the lower

door. I saw him stoop and strain until with a sharp crash it flew open. We sprang through into the dark

passage, closing the area door behind us. Holmes led the way up the curving, uncarpeted stair. His little fan of

"Here we are, Watson this must be the one." He threw it open, and as he did so there was a low, harsh

murmur, growing steadily into a loud roar as a train dashed past us in the darkness. Holmes swept his light

along the windowsill. It was thickly coated with soot from the passing engines, but the black surface was

"You can see where they rested the body. Halloa, Watson! what is this? There can be no doubt that it is a

blood mark." He was pointing to faint discolourations along the woodwork of the window. "Here it is on the

stone of the stair also. The demon stration is complete. Let us stay here until a train stops. "

We had not long to wait. The very next train roared from the tunnel as before, but slowed in the open, and

then, with a creaking of brakes, pulled up immediately beneath us. It was not four feet from the

"I cannot agree with you there. From the moment that I conceived the idea of the body being upon the roof,

which surely was not a very abstruse one, all the rest was inevitable. If it were not for the grave interests

involved the affair up to this point would be insignificant. Our difficulties are still before us. But perhaps we

We had ascended the kitchen stair and entered the suite of rooms upon the first floor. One was a

diningroom, severely furnished and containing nothing of interest. A second was a bedroom, which also

drew blank. The remaining room appeared more promising, and my companion settled down to a systematic

examination. It was littered with books and papers, and was evidently used as a study. Swiftly and

methodically Holmes turned over the contents of drawer after drawer and cupboard after cupboard, but no

gleam of success came to brighten his austere face. At the end of an hour he was no further than when he

"The cunning dog has covered his tracks," said he. "He has left nothing to incriminate him. His dangerous

It was a small tin cashbox which stood upon the writing desk. Holmes pried it open with his chisel. Several

rolls of paper were within, covered with figures and calculations, without any note to show to what they

referred. The recurring words "water pressure" and "pressure to the square inch" suggested some possible

relation to a submarine. Holmes tossed them all impa tiently aside. There only remained an envelope with

some small newspaper slips inside it. He shook them out on the table, and at once I saw by his eager face that

"What's this, Watson? Eh? What's this? Record of a series of messages in the advertisements of a paper.

Daily Telegraph agony column by the print and paper. Righthand top corner of a page. No dates but

"A fairly complete record, Watson! If we could only get at the man at the other end!" He sat lost in thought,

"Well, perhaps it won't be so difficult, after all. There is nothing more to be done here, Watson. I think we

might drive round to the offices of the Daily Telegraph, and so bring a good day's work to a conclusion."

Mycroft Holmes and Lestrade had come round by appointment after breakfast next day and Sherlock Holmes

had recounted to them our proceedings of the day before. The professional shook his head over our confessed

"We can't do these things in the force, Mr. Holmes," said he. "No wonder you get results that are beyond us.

But some of these days you'll go too far, and you'll find yourself and your friend in trouble."

"For England, home and beauty eh, Watson? Martyrs on the altar of our country. But what do you think of

"That was my idea when I put it in. I think if you could both make it convenient to come with us about eight

o'clock to Caulfield Gardens we might possibly get a little nearer to a solution."

One of the most remarkable characteristics of Sherlock Holmes was his power of throwing his brain out of

action and switching all his thoughts on to lighter things whenever he had convinced himself that he could no

longer work to advantage. I remember that during the whole of that memorable day he lost himself in a

monograph which he had undertaken upon the Polyphonic Mo tets of Lassus. For my own part I had none of

this power of detachment, and the day, in consequence, appeared to be inter minable. The great national

importance of the issue, the suspense in high quarters, the direct nature of the experiment which we were

trying all combined to work upon my nerve. It was a relief to me when at last, after a light dinner, we set

out upon our expedition. Lestrade and Mycroft met us by appointment at the outside of Gloucester Road

Station. The area door of Oberstein's house had been left open the night before, and it was necessary for me,

as Mycroft Holmes absolutely and indignantly declined to climb the railings, to pass in and open the hall

door. By nine o'clock we were all seated in the study, waiting patiently for our man.

An hour passed and yet another. When eleven struck, the measured beat of the great church clock seemed to

sound the dirge of our hopes. Lestrade and Mycroft were fidgeting in their seats and looking twice a minute

at their watches. Holmes sat silent and composed, his eyelids half shut, but every sense on the alert. He raised

There had been a furtive step past the door. Now it returned. We heard a shuffling sound outside, and then

two sharp taps with the knocker. Holmes rose, motioning to us to remain seated. The gas in the hall was a

mere point of light. He opened the outer door, and then as a dark figure slipped past him he closed and

fastened it. "This way!" we heard him say, and a moment later our man stood before us. Holmes had followed

him closely, and as the man turned with a cry of surprise and alarm he caught him by the collar and threw

him back into the room. Before our prisoner had recovered his balance the door was shut and Holmes

standing with his back against it. The man glared round him, staggered, and fell senseless upon the floor.

With the shock, his broadbrimmed hat flew from his head, his cravat slipped down from his lips, and there

were the long light beard and the soft, handsome delicate features of Colonel Valentine Walter.

"You can write me down an ass this time, Watson," said he. "This was not the bird that I was looking for."

"The younger brother of the late Sir James Walter, the head of the Submarine Department. Yes, yes; I see the

fall of the cards. He is coming to. I think that you had best leave his examination to me."

We had carried the prostrate body to the sofa. Now our prisoner sat up, looked round him with a

horrorstricken face, and passed his hand over his forehead, like one who cannot believe his own senses.

"Everything is known, Colonel Walter," said Holmes. "How an English gentleman could behave in such a

manner is beyond my comprehension. But your whole correspondence and rela tions with Oberstein are

within our knowledge. So also are the circumstances connected with the death of young Cadogan West. Let

me advise you to gain at least the small credit for repentance and confession, since there are still some details

"I can assure you," said Holmes, "that every essential is already known. We know that you were pressed for

money; that you took an impress of the keys which your brother held; and that you entered into a

correspondence with Oberstein, who answered your letters through the advertisement columns of the Daily

Telegraph. We are aware that you went down to the office in the fog on Monday night, but that you were seen

and followed by young Cadogan West, who had probably some previous reason to suspect you. He saw your

theft, but could not give the alarm, as it was just possible that you were taking the papers to your brother in

London. Leaving all his private concerns, like the good citizen that he was, he followed you closely in the fog

and kept at your heels until you reached this very house. There he intervened, and then it was, Colonel

"I did not! I did not! Before God I swear that I did not!" cried our wretched prisoner.

"Tell us, then, how Cadogan West met his end before you laid him upon the roof of a railway carriage."

"I will. I swear to you that I will. I did the rest. I confess it. It was just as you say. A Stock Exchange debt had

to be paid. I needed the money badly. Oberstein offered me five thousand. It was to save myself from ruin.

"He had his suspicions before, and he followed me as you describe. I never knew it until I was at the very

door. It was thick fog, and one could not see three yards. I had given two taps and Oberstein had come to the

door. The young man rushed up and demanded to know what we were about to do with the papers. Oberstein

had a short lifepreserver. He always carried it with him. As West forced his way after us into the house

Oberstein struck him on the head. The blow was a fatal one. He was dead within five minutes. There he lay in

the hall, and we were at our wit's end what to do. Then Oberstein had this idea about the trains which halted

under his back window. But first he examined the papers which I had brought. He said that three of them

were essential, and that he must keep them. 'You cannot keep them,' said I. 'There will be a dreadful row at

Woolwich if they are not returned.' 'I must keep them,' said he, 'for they are so technical that it is impossible

in the time to make copies.' 'Then they must all go back together tonight,' said I. He thought for a little, and

then he cried out that he had it. 'Three I will keep,' said he. 'The others we will stuff into the pocket of this

young man. When he is found the whole business will assuredly be put to his account. I could see no other

way out of it, so we did as he suggested. We waited half an hour at the window before a train stopped. It was

so thick that nothing could be seen, and we had no difficulty in lowering West's body on to the train. That

"He said nothing, but he had caught me once with his keys, and I think that he suspected. I read in his eyes

"Can you not make reparation? It would ease your con science, and possibly your punishment."

"He said that letters to the Hotel du Louvre, Paris, would eventually reach him."

"I will do anything I can. I owe this fellow no particular goodwill. He has been my ruin and my downfall."

"Here are paper and pen. Sit at this desk and write to my dictation. Direct the envelope to the address given.

That will do very well. I shall be very much surprised if it does not fetch our man."

And it did! It is a matter of history that secret history of a nation which is often so much more intimate

and interesting than its public chronicles that Oberstein, eager to complete the coup of his lifetime, came

to the lure and was safely engulfed for fifteen years in a British prison. In his trunk were found the invaluable

BrucePartington plans, which he had put up for auction in all the naval centres of Europe.

Colonel Walter died in prison towards the end of the second year of his sentence. As to Holmes, he returned

refreshed to his monograph upon the Polyphonic Motets of Lassus, which has since been printed for private

circulation, and is said by experts to be the last word upon the subject. Some weeks afterwards I learned

incidentally that my friend spent a day at Windsor, whence he returned with a remarkably fine emerald

tiepin. When I asked him if he had bought it, he answered that it was a present from a certain gracious lady

in whose interests he had once been fortunate enough to carry out a small commission. He said no more, but I

fancy that I could guess at that lady's august name, and I have little doubt that the emerald pin will forever

In recordinc from time to time some of the curious experiences and interesting recollections which I associate

with my long and intimate friendship with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I have continually been faced by difficulties

caused by his own aversion to publicity. To his sombre and cynical spirit all popular applause was always

abhorrent, and nothing amused him more at the end of a successful case than to hand over the actual exposure

to some orthodox official, and to listen with a mocking smile to the general chorus of misplaced

congratulation. It was indeed this attitude upon the part of my friend and certainly not any lack of interesting

material which has caused me of late years to lay very few of my records before the public. My participation

in some of his adventures was always a privilege which entailed discretion and reticence upon me.

It was, then, with considerable surprise that I received a telegram from Holmes last Tuesday he has never

I have no idea what backward sweep of memory had brought the matter fresh to his mind, or what freak had

caused him to desire that I should recount it; but I hasten, before another cancelling telegram may arrive, to

hunt out the notes which give me the exact details of the case and to lay the narrative before my readers.

It was, then, in the spring of the year 1897 that Holmes's iron constitution showed some symptoms of giving

way in the face of constant hard work of a most exacting kind, aggravated, perhaps, by occasional

indiscretions of his own. In March of that year Dr. Moore Agar, of Harley Street, whose dramatic

introduction to Holmes I may some day recount, gave positive injunctions that the famous private agent lay

aside all his cases and surrender himself to complete rest if he wished to avert an absolute breakdown. The

state of his health was not a matter in which he himself took the faintest interest, for his mental detachment

was absolute, but he was induced at last, on the threat of being permanently disqualified from work, to give

himself a complete change of scene and air. Thus it was that in the early spring of that year we found

ourselves together in a small cottage near Poldhu Bay, at the further extremity of the Cornish peninsula.

It was a singular spot, and one peculiarly well suited to the grim humour of my patient. From the windows of

our little whitewashed house, which stood high upon a grassy headland, we looked down upon the whole

sinister semicircle of Mounts Bay, that old death trap of sailing vessels, with its fringe of black cliffs and

surgeswept reefs on which innumerable seamen have met their end. With a northerly breeze it lies placid

and sheltered, inviting the stormtossed craft to tack into it for rest and protection.

Then come the sudden swirl round of the wind, the blustering gale from the southwest, the dragging anchor,

the lee shore, and the last battle in the creaming breakers. The wise mariner stands far out from that evil place.

On the land side our surroundings were as sombre as on the sea. It was a country of rolling moors, lonely and

duncoloured, with an occasional church tower to mark the site of some oldworld village. In every direction

upon these moors there were traces of some vanished race which had passed utterly away, and left as its sole

record strange monuments of stone, irregular mounds which contained the burned ashes of the dead, and

curious earthworks which hinted at prehistoric strife. The glamour and mystery of the place, with its sinister

atmosphere of forgotten nations, appealed to the imagination of my friend, and he spent much of his time in

long walks and solitary meditations upon the moor. The ancient Cornish language had also arrested his

attention, and he had, I remember, conceived the idea that it was akin to the Chaldean, and had been largely

derived from the Phoenician traders in tin. He had received a consignment of books upon philology and was

settling down to develop this thesis when suddenly, to my sorrow and to his unfeigned delight, we found

ourselves, even in that land of dreams, plunged into a problem at our very doors which was more intense,

more engrossing, and infinitely more mysterious than any of those which had driven us from London. Our

simple life and peaceful, healthy routine were violently interrupted, and we were precipitated into the midst

of a series of events which caused the utmost excitement not only in Cornwall but throughout the whole west

of England. Many of my readers may retain some recollection of what was called at the time "The Cornish

Horror," though a most imperfect account of the matter reached the London press. Now, after thirteen years, I

I have said that scattered towers marked the villages which dotted this part of Cornwall. The nearest of these

was the hamlet of Tredannick Wollas, where the cottages of a couple of hundred inhabitants clustered round

an ancient, mossgrown church. The vicar of the parish, Mr. Roundhay, was something of an archeologist,

and as such Holmes had made his acquaintance. He was a middleaged man, portly and affable, with a

considerable fund of local lore. At his invitation we had taken tea at the vicarage and had come to know, also,

Mr. Mortimer Tregennis, an independent gentleman, who increased the clergyman's scanty resources by

taking rooms in his large, straggling house. The vicar, being a bachelor, was glad to come to such an

arrangement, though he had little in common with his lodger, who was a thin, dark, spectacled man, with a

stoop which gave the impression of actual, physical deformity. I remember that during our short visit we

found the vicar garrulous, but his lodger strangely reticent, a sadfaced, introspective man, sitting with

These were the two men who entered abruptly into our little sittingroom on Tuesday, March the 16th,

shortly after our breakfast hour, as we were smoking together, preparatory to our daily excursion upon the

"Mr. Holmes," said the vicar in an agitated voice, "the most extraordinary and tragic affair has occurred

during the night. It is the most unheardof business. We can only regard it as a special Providence that you

should chance to be here at the time, for in all England you are the one man we need."

I glared at the intrusive vicar with no very friendly eyes; but Holmes took his pipe from his lips and sat up in

his chair like an old hound who hears the viewhalloa. He waved his hand to the sofa, and our palpitating

visitor with his agitated companion sat side by side upon it. Mr. Mortimer Tregennis was more selfcontained

than the clergyman, but the twitching of his thin hands and the brightness of his dark eyes showed that they

"Well, as you seem to have made the discovery, whatever it may be, and the vicar to have had it

I glanced at the hastily clad clergyman, with the formally dressed lodger seated beside him, and was amused

"Perhaps I had best say a few words first," said the vicar, "and then you can judge if you will listen to the

details from Mr. Tregennis, or whether we should not hasten at once to the scene of this mysterious affair. I

may explain, then, that our friend here spent last evening in the company of his two brothers, Owen and

George, and of his sister Brenda, at their house of Tredannick Wartha, which is near the old stone cross upon

the moor. He left them shortly after ten o'clock, playing cards round the diningroom table, in excellent

health and spirits. This morning, being an early riser, he walked in that direction before breakfast and was

overtaken by the carriage of Dr. Richards, who explained that he had just been sent for on a most urgent call

to Tredannick Wartha. Mr. Mortimer Tregennis naturally went with him. When he arrived at Tredannick

Wartha he found an extraordinary state of things. His two brothers and his sister were seated round the table

exactly as he had left them, the cards still spread in front of them and the candles burned down to their

sockets. The sister lay back stonedead in her chair, while the two brothers sat on each side of her laughing,

shouting, and singing, the senses stricken clean out of them. All three of them, the dead woman and the two

demented men, retained upon their faces an expression of the utmost horror a convulsion of terror which

was dreadful to look upon. There was no sign of the presence of anyone in the house, except Mrs. Porter, the

old cook and housekeeper, who declared that she had slept deeply and heard no sound during the night.

Nothing had been stolen or disarranged, and there is absolutely no explanation of what the horror can be

which has frightened a woman to death and two strong men out of their senses. There is the situation, Mr.

Holmes, in a nutshell, and if you can help us to clear it up you will have done a great work."

I had hoped that in some way I could coax my companion back into the quiet which had been the object of

our journey; but one glance at his intense face and contracted eyebrows told me how vain was now the

expectation. He sat for some little time in silence, absorbed in the strange drama which had broken in upon

"I will look into this matter," he said at last. "On the face of it, it would appear to be a case of a very

"No, Mr. Holmes. Mr. Tregennis brought back the account to the vicarage, and I at once hurried over with

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

The other had been silent all this time, but I had observed that his more controlled excitement was even

greater than the obtrusive emotion of the clergyman. He sat with a pale, drawn face, his anxious gaze fixed

opon Holmes, and his thin hands clasped convulsively together. His pale lips quivered as he listened to the

dreadful experience which had befallen his family, and his dark eyes seemed to reflect something of the

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

"Well, Mr. Holmes, I supped there, as the vicar has said, and my elder brother George proposed a game of

whist afterwards. We sat down about nine o'clock. It was a quarterpast ten when I moved to go. I left thern

"Mrs. Porter had gone to bed, so I let myself out. I shut the hall door behind me. The window of the room in

which they sat was closed, but the blind was not drawn down. There was no change in door or window this

morning, nor any reason to think that any stranger had been to the house. Yet there they sat, driven clean mad

with terror, and Brenda lying dead of fright, with her head hanging over the arm of the chair. I'll never get the

"The facts, as you state them, are certainly most remarkable," said Holmes. "I take it that you have no theory

"It's devilish, Mr. Holmes, devilish!" cried Mortimer Tregennis. "It is not of this world. Something has come

into that room which has dashed the light of reason from their minds. What human contrivance could do

"I fear," said Holmes~, "that if the matter is beyond humanity it is certainly beyond me. Yet we must exhaust

all natural explanations before we fall back upon such a theory as this. As to yourself, Mr. Tregenrlis, I take it

you were divided in some way from your family, since they lived together and you had rooms apart?"

"That is so, Mr. Holmes, though the matter is past and done with. We were a family of tinminers at Redruth,

but we sold out our venture to a company, and so retired with enough to keep us. I won't deny that there was

some feeling about the division of the money and it stood between us for a time, but it was all forgiven and

"Looking back at the evening which you spent together, does anything stand out in your memory as throwing

any possible light upon the tragedy? Think carefully, Mr. Tregennis, for any clue which can help me."

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

"There is one thing occurs to me," said he at last. "As we sat at the table my back was to the window, and my

brother George, he being my partner at cards, was facing it. I saw him once look hard over my shoulder, so I

turned round and looked also. The blind was up and the window shut, but I could just make out the bushes on

the lawn, and it seemed to me for a moment that I saw something moving among them. I couldn't even say if

it was man or animal, but I just thought there was something there. When I asked him what he was looking at,

"I am an early riser and generally take a walk before breakfast. This morning I had hardly started when the

doctor in his carriage overtook me. He told me that old Mrs. Porter had sent a boy down with an urgent

message. I sprang in beside him and we drove on. When we got there we looked into that dreadful room. The

candles and the fire must have burned out hours before, and they had been sitting there in the dark until dawn

had broken. The doctor said Brenda must have been dead at least six hours. There were no signs of violence.

She just lay across the arm of the chair with that look on her face. George and Owen were singing snatches of

songs and gibbering like two great apes. Oh, it was awful to see! I couldn't stand it, and the doctor was as

white as a sheet. Indeed, he fell into a chair in a sort of faint, and we nearly had him on our hands as well."

"Remarkable most remarkable!" said Holmes, rising and taking his hat. "I think, perhaps, we had better go

down to Tredannick Wartha without further delay. I confess that I have seldom known a case which at first

Our proceedings of that first morning did little to advance the investigation. It was marked, however, at the

outset by an incident which left the most sinister impression upon my mind. The approach to the spot at

which the tragedy occurred is down a narrow, winding, country lane. While we made our way along it we

heard the raffle of a carriage coming towards us and stood aside to let it pass. As it drove by us I caught a

glimpse through the closed window of a horribly contorted, grinning face glaring out at us. Those staring eyes

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

We looked with horror after the black carriage, lumbering upon its way. Then we turned our steps towards

It was a large and bright dwelling, rather a villa than a cottage, with a considerable garden which was already,

in that Cornish air, well filled with spring flowers. Towards this garden the window of the sittingroom

fronted, and from it, according to Mortimer Tregennis, must have come that thing of evil which had by sheer

horror in a single instant blasted their minds. Holmes walked slowly and thoughtfully among the flowerplots

and along the path before we entered the porch. So absorbed was he in his thoughts, I remember, that he

stumbled over the wateringpot, upset its contents, and deluged both our feet and the garden path. Inside the

house we were met by the e1derly Cornish housekeeper, Mrs. Porter, who, with the aid of a young girl,

looked after the wants of the family. She readily answered all Holmes's questions. She had heard nothing in

the night. Her employers had all been in excellent spirits lately, and she had never known them more cheerful

and prosperous. She had fainted with horror upon entering the room in the morning and seeing that dreadful

company round the table. She had, when she recovered, thrown open the window to let the morning air in and

had run down to the lane, whence she sent a farmlad for the doctor. The lady was on her bed upstairs if we

cared to see her. It took four strong men to get the brothers into the asylum carriage. She would not herself

stay in the house another day and was starting that very afternoon to rejoin her family at St. Ives.

We ascended the stairs and viewed the body. Miss Brenda Tregennis had been a very beautiful girl, though

now verging upon middle age. Her dark, clearcut face was handsome, even in death, but there still lingered

upon it something of that convulsion of horror which had been her last human emotion. From her bedroom

we descended to the sittingroom, where this strange tragedy had actually occurred. The charred ashes of the

overnight fire lay in the grate. On the table were the four guttered and burnedout candles, with the cards

scattered over its surface. The chairs had been moved back against the walls, but all else was as it had been

the night before. Holmes paced with light, swift steps about the room; he sat in the various chairs, drawing

them up and reconstructing their positions. He tested how much of the garden was visible; he examined the

floor, the ceiling, and the fireplace; but never once did I see that sudden brightening of his eyes and

tightening of his lips which would have told me that he saw some gleam of light in this utter darkness.

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

Mortimer Tregennis explained that the night was cold and damp. For that reason, after his arrival, the fire was

My friend smiled and laid his hand upon my arm. "I think, Watson, that I shall resume that course of

tobaccopoisoning which you have so often and so justly condemned," said he. "With your permission,

gentlemen, we will now return to our cottage, for I am not aware that any new factor is likely to come to our

notice here. I will turn the facts over in my mind, Mr. Tregennis, and should anything occur to me I will

certainly communicate with you and the vicar. In the meantime I wish you both goodmorning."

It was not until long after we were back in Poldhu Cottage that Holmes broke his complete and absorbed

silence. He sat coiled in his armchair, his haggard and ascetic face hardly visible amid the blue swirl of his

tobacco smoke, his black brows drawn down, his forehead contracted, his eyes vacant and far away. Finally

"It won't do, Watson!" said he with a laugh. "Let us walk along the cliffs together and search for flint arrows.

We are more likely to find them than clues to this problem. To let the brain work without sufficient material

is like racing an engine. It racks itself to pieces. The sea air, sunshine, and patience, Watson all else will

"Now, let us calmly define our position, Watson," he continued as we skirted the cliffs together. "Let us get a

firm grip of the very little which we do know, so that when fresh facts arise we may be ready to fit them into

their places. I take it, in the first place, that neither of us is prepared to admit diabolical intrusions into the

affairs of men. Let us begin by ruling that entirely out of our minds. Very good. There remain three persons

who have been grievously stricken by some conscious or unconscious human agency. That is firm ground.

Now, when did this occur? Evidently, assuming his narrative to be true, it was immediately after Mr.

Mortimer Tregennis had left the room. That is a very important point. The presumption is that it was within a

few minutes afterwards. The cards still lay upon the table. It was already past their usual hour for bed. Yet

they had not changed their position or pushed back their chairs. I repeat then, that the occurrence was

"Our next obvious step is to check, so far as we can, the movements of Mortimer Tregennis after he left the

room. In this there is no difficulty, and they seem to be above suspicion. Knowing my methods as you do,

you were, of course, conscious of the somewhat clumsy waterpot expedient by which I obtained a clearer

impress of his foot than might otherwise have been possible. The wet, sandy path took it admirably. Last

night was also wet, you will remember, and it was not difficult having obtained a sample print to pick

out his track among others and to follow his movements. He appears to have walked away swiftly in the

"If, then, Mortimer Tregennis disappeared from the scene, and yet some outside person affected the

cardplayers, how can we reconstruct that person, and how was such an impression of horror conveyed? Mrs.

Porter may be eliminated. She is evidently harmless. Is there any evidence that someone crept up to the

garden window and in some manner produced so terrific an effect that he drove those who saw it out of their

senses? The only suggestion in this direction comes from Mortimer Tregennis himself, who says that his

brother spoke about some movement in the garden. That is certainly remarkable, as the night was rainy,

cloudy, and dark. Anyone who had the design to alarm these people would be compelled to place his very

face against the glass before he could be seen. There is a threefoot flowerborder outside this window, but no

indication of a footmark. It is difficult to imagine, then, how an outsider could have made so terrible an

impression upon the company, nor have we found any possible motive for so strange and elaborate an

"And yet, with a little more material, we may prove that they are not insurmountable," said Holrnes. "I fancy

that among your extensive archives, Watson, you may find some which were nearly as obscure. Meanwhile,

we shall put the case aside until more accurate data are available, and devote the rest of our morning to the

I may have commented upon my friend's power of mental detachment, but never have I wondered at it more

than upon that spring morning in Cornwall when for two hours he discoursed upon Celts, arrowheads, and

shards, as lightly as if no sinister mystery were waiting for his solution. It was not until we had returned in

the afternoon to our cottlge that we found a visitor awaiting us, who soon brought our minds back to the

matter in hand. Neither of us needed to be told who that visitor was. The huge body, the craggy and deeply

seamed face with the fierce eyes and hawklike nose, the grizzled hair which nearly brushed our cottage

ceiling, the beard golden at the fringes and white near the lips, save for the nicotin stain from his perpetual

cigar all these were as well known in London as in Africa, and could only be associated with the

tremendous personality of Dr. Leon Sterndale, the great lionhunter and explorer.

We had heard of his presence in the district and had once or twice caught sight of his tall figure upon the

moorland paths. He made no advances to us, however, nor would we have dreamed of doing so to him, as it

was well known that it was his love of seclusion which caused him to spend the greater part of the intervals

between his journeys in a small bungalow buried in the lonely wood of Beauchamp Arriance. Here, amid his

books and his maps, he lived an absolutely lonely life, attending to his own simple wants and paying little

apparent heed to the affairs of his neighbours. It was a surprise to me, therefore, to hear him asking Holmes in

an eager voice whether he had made any advance in his reconstruction of this mysterious episode. "The

county police are utterly at fault," said he, "but perhaps your wider experience has suggested some

conceivable explanation. My only claim to being taken into your confidence is that during my many

residences here I have come to know this family of Tregennis very well indeed, upon my Cornish

mother's side I could call them cousins and their strange fate has naturally been a great shock to me. I may

tell you that I had got as far as Plymouth upon my way to Africa, but the news reached me this morning, and I

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

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

"Thank you," said Holmes. "I may say in answer to your original question that I have not cleared my mind

entirely on the subject of this case, but that I have every hope of reaching some conclusion. It would be

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

"Then I have wasted my time and need not prolong my visit." The famous doctor strode out of our cottage in

considerable illhumour, and within five minutes Holmes had followed him. I saw him no more until the

evening, when he returned with a slow step and haggard face which assured me that he had made no great

progress with his investigation. He glanced at a telegram which awaited him and threw it into the grate.

"From the Plymouth hotel, Watson," he said. "I learned the name of it from the vicar, and I wired to make

certain that Dr. Leon Stemdale's account was true. It appears that he did indeed spend last night there, and

that he has actually allowed some of his baggage to go on to Africa, while he returned to be present at this

"Deeply interested yes. There is a thread here which we have not yet grasped and which might lead us

through the tangle. Cheer up, Watson, for I am very sure that our material has not yet all come to hand. When

Little did I think how soon the words of Holmes would be realized, or how strange and sinister would be that

new development which opened up an entirely fresh line of investigation. I was shaving at my window in the

morning when I heard the rattle of hoofs and, looking up, saw a dogcart coming at a gallop down the road. It

pulled up at our door, and our friend, the vicar, sprang from it and rushed up our garden path. Holmes was

Our visitor was so excited that he could hardly articulate, but at last in gasps and bursts his tragic story came

"We are devilridden, Mr. Holmes! My poor parish is devilridden!" he cried. "Satan himself is loose in it!

We are given over into his hands!" He danced about in his agitation, a ludicrous object if it were not for his

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

"Then, Watson, we will postpone our breakfast. Mr. Roundhay, we are entirely at your disposal. Hurry

The lodger occupied two rooms at the vicarage, which were in an angle by themselves, the one above the

other. Below was a large sittingroom; above, his bedroom. They looked out upon a croquet lawn which

came up to the windows. We had arrived before the doctor or the police, so that everything was absolutely

undisturbed. Let me describe exactly the scene as we saw it upon that misty March morning. It has left an

The atmosphere of the room was of a horrible and depressing stuffiness. The servant who had first entered

had thrown up the window, or it would have been even more intolerable. This might partly be due to the fact

that a lamp stood flaring and smoking on the centre table. Beside it sat the dead man, leaning back in his

chair, his thin beard projecting, his spectacles pushed up on to his forehead, and his lean dark face turned

towards the window and twisted into the same distortion of terror which had marked the features of his dead

sister. His limbs were convulsed and his fingers contorted as though he had died in a very paroxysm of fear.

He was fully clothed, though there were signs that his dressing had been done in a hurry. We had already

learned that his bed had been slept in, and that the tragic end had come to him in the early morning.

One realized the redhot energy which underlay Holmes's phlegmatic exterior when one saw the sudden

change which came over him from the moment that he entered the fatal apartment. In an instant he was tense

and alert, his eyes shining, his face set, his limbs quivering with eager activity. He was out on the lawn, in

through the window, round the room, and up into the bedroom, for all the world like a dashing foxhound

drawing a cover. In the bedroom he made a rapid cast around and ended by throwing open the window, which

appeared to give him some fresh cause for excitement, for he leaned out of it with loud ejaculations of

interest and delight. Then he rushed down the stair, out through the open window, threw himself upon his

face on the lawn, sprang up and into the room once more, all with the energy of the hunter who is at the very

heels of his quarry. The lamp, which was an ordinaly standard, he examined with minute care, making certain

measurements upon its bowl. He carefully scrutinized with his lens the tale shield which covered the top of

the chimney and scraped off some ashes which adhered to its upper surface, putting some of them into an

envelope, which he placed in his pocketbook. Finally, just as the doctor and the official police put in an

"I am glad to say that my investigation has not been entirely barren," he remarked. "I cannot remain to

discuss the matter with the police, but I should be exceedingly obliged, Mr. Roundhay, if you would give the

inspector my compliments and direct his attention to the bedroom window and to the sittingroom lamp. Each

is suggestive, and together they are almost conclusive. If the police would desire further information I shall

be happy to see any of them at the conage. And now, Watson, I think that, perhaps, we shall be better

It may be that the police resented the intrusion of an amateur, or that they imagined themselves to be upon

some hopeful line of investigation; but it is certain that we heard nothing from them for the next two days.

During this time Holmes spent some of his time smoking and dreaming in the cottage; but a greater portion in

country walks which he undertook alone, returning after many hours without remark as to where he had been.

One experiment served to show me the line of his investigation. He had bought a lamp which was the

duplicate of the one which had burned in the room of Mortimer Tregennis on the morning of the tragedy.

This he filled with the same oil as that used at the vicarage, and he carefully timed the period which it would

take to be exhausted. Another experiment which he made was of a more unpleasant nature, and one which I

"You will remember, Watson," he remarked one afternoon, "that there is a single common point of

resemblance in the varying reports which have reached us. This concerns the effect of the atmosphere of the

room in each case upon those who had first entered it. You will recollect that Mortimer Tregennis, in

describing the episode of his last visit to his brother's house, remarked that the doctor on entering the room

fell into a chair? You had forgotten? Well, I can answer for it that it was so. Now, you will remember also

that Mrs. Porter, the housekeeper, told us that she herself fainted upon entering the room and had afterwards

opened the window. In the second case that of Mortimer Tregennis himself you cannot have forgotten

the horrible stuffiness of the room when we arrived. though the servant had thrown open the window. That

servant, I found upon inquiry, was so ill that she had gone to her bed. You will admit, Watson, that these facts

are very suggestive. In each case there is evidence of a poisonous atmosphere. In each case, also, there is

combustion going on in the room in the one case a fire, in the other a lamp. The fire was needed, but the

lamp was lit as a comparison of the oil consumed will show long after it was broad daylight. Why?

Surely because there is some connection between three things the burning, the stuffy atmosphere, and,

finally, the madness or death of those unfortunate people. That is clear, is it not?"

"At least we may accept it as a working hypothesis. We will suppose, then, that something was burned in

each case which produced an atmosphere causing strange toxic effects. Very good. In the first instance

that of the Tregennis family this substance was placed in the fire. Now the window was shut, but the fire

would naturally carry fumes to some extent up the chimney. Hence one would expect the effects of the poison

to be less than in the second case, where there was less escape for the vapour. The result seems to indicate

that it was so, since in the first case only the woman, who had presumably the more sensitive organism, was

killed, the others exhibiting that temporary or permanent lunacy which is evidently the first effect of the drug.

In the second case the result was complete. The facts, therefore, seem to bear out the theory of a poison which

"With this train of reasoning in my head I naturally looked about in Mortimer Tregennis's room to find some

remains of this substance. The obvious place to look was the talc shield or smokeguard of the lamp. There,

sure enough, I perceived a number of flaky ashes, and round the edges a fringe of brownish powder, which

had not yet been consumed. Half of this I took, as you saw, and I placed it in an envelope."

"It is not for me, my dear Watson, to stand in the way of the official police force. I leave them all the

evidence which I found. The poison still remained upon the talc had they the wit to find it. Now, Watson, we

will light our lamp; we will, however, take the precaution to open our window to avoid the premature decease

of two deserving members of society, and you will seat yourself near that open window in an armchair

unless, like a sensible man, you determine to have nothing to do with the affair. Oh, you will see it out, will

you? I thought I knew my Watson. This chair I will place opposite yours, so that we may be the same

distance from the poison and face to face. The door we will leave ajar. Each is now in a position to watch the

other and to bring the experiment to an end should the symptoms seem alarming. Is that all clear? Well, then,

I take our powder or what remains of it from the envelope, and I lay it above the burning lamp. So!

They were not long in coming. I had hardlv settled in my chair before I was conscious of a thick, musky

odour, subtle and nauseous. At the very first whiff of it my brain and my imagination were beyond all

control. A thick, black cloud swirled before my eyes, and my mind told me that in this cloud, unseen as yet,

but about to spring out upon my appalled senses, lurked all that was vaguely horrible, all that was monstrous

and inconceivably wicked in the universe. Vague shapes swirled and swam amid the dark cloudbank, each a

menace and a warning of something coming, the advent of some unspeakable dweller upon the threshold,

whose very shadow would blast my soul. A freezing horror took possession of me. I felt that my hair was

rising, that my eyes were protruding, that my mouth wag opened, and my tongue like leather. The turmoil

within my brain was such that something must surely snap. I tried to scream and was vaguely aware of some

hoarse croak which was my own voice, but distant and detached from myself. At the same moment, in some

effort of escape, I broke through that cloud of despair and had a glimpse of Holmes's face, white, rigid, and

drawn with horror the very look which I had seen upon the features of the dead. It was that vision which

gave me an instant of sanity and of strength. I dashed from my chair, threw my arms round Holmes, and

together we lurched through the door, and an instant afterwards had thrown ourselves down upon the grass

plot and were lying side by side, conscious only of the glorious sunshine which was bursting its way through

the hellish cloud of terror which had girt us in. Slowly it rose from our souls like the mists from a landscape

until peace and reason had returned, and we were sitting upon the grass, wiping our clammy foreheads, and

looking with apprehension at each other to mark the last traces of that terrific experience which we had

"Upon my word, Watson!" said Holmes at last with an unsteady voice, "I owe you both my thanks and an

apology. It was an unjustifiable experiment even for one's self, and doubly so for a friend. I am really very

"You know," I answered with some emotion, for I had never seen so much of Holmes's heart before, "that it

He relapsed at once into the halfhumorous, halfcynical vein which was his habitual attitude to those about

him. "It would be superfluous to drive us mad, my dear Watson," said he. "A candid observer would celtainly

declare that we were so already before we embarked upon so wild an experiment. I confess that I never

imagined that the effect could be so sudden and so severe." He dashed into the cottage, and, reappearing with

the burning lamp held at full arm's length, he threw it among a bank of brambles. "We must give the room a

little time to clear. I take it, Watson, that you have no longer a shadow of a doubt as to how these tragedies

"But the cause remains as obscure as before. Come into the arbour here and let us discuss it together. That

villainous stuff seems still to linger round my throat. I think we must admit that all the evidence points to this

man, Mortimer Tregennis, having been the criminal in the first tragedy, though he was the victim in the

second one. We must remember, in the first place, that there is some story of a family quarrel, followed by a

reconciliation. How bitter that quarrel may have been, or how hollow the reconciliation we cannot tell. When

I think of Mortimer Tregennis, with the foxy face and the small shrewd, beady eyes behind the spectacles, he

is not a man whom I should judge to be of a particularly forgiving disposition. Well, in the next place, you

will remember that this idea of someone moving in the garden, which took our attention for a moment from

the real cause of the tragedy, emanated from him. He had a motive in misleading us. Finally, if he did not

throw this substance into the fire at the moment of leaving the room, who did do so? The affair happened

immediately after his departure. Had anyone else come in, the family would certainly have risen from the

table. Besides, in peaceful Cornwall, visitors do not arrive after ten o'clock at night. We may take it, then, that

"Well, Watson, it is on the face of it a not impossible supposition. The man who had the guilt upon his soul of

having brought such a fate upon his own family might well be driven by remorse to inflict it upon himself.

There are, however, some cogent reasons against it. Forturlately, there is one man in England who knows all

about it, and I have made arrangements by which we shall hear the facts this afternoon from his own lips. Ah!

he is a little before his time. Perhaps you would kindly step this way, Dr. Leon Sterndale. We have been

conducting a chemical experiment indoors which has left our little room hardly fit for the reception of so

I had heard the click of the garden gate, and now the majestic figure of the great African explorer appeared

upon the path. He turned in some surprise towards the rustic arbour in which we sat.

"You sent for me, Mr. Holmes. I had your note about an hour ago, and I have come, though I really do not

"Perhaps we can clear the point up before we separate," said Holmes. "Meanwhile, I am much obliged to you

for your courteous acquiescence. You will excuse this informal reception in the open air, but my friend

Watson and I have nearly furnished an additional chapter to what the papers call the Cornish Horror, and we

prefer a clear atmosphere for the present. Perhaps, since the matters which we have to discuss will affect you

personally in a very intimate fashion, it is as well that we should talk where there can be no eavesdropping."

"I am at a loss to know, sir," he said, "what you can have to speak about which affects me personally in a

For a moment I wished that I were armed. Stemdale's fierce face turned to a dusky red, his eyes glared, and

the knotted, passionate veins started out in his forehead, while he sprang forward with clenched hands

towards my companion. Then he stopped, and with a violent effort he resumed a cold, rigid calmness, which

"I have lived so long among savages and beyond the law," said he, "that I have got into the way of being a

law to myself. You would do well, Mr. Holmes, not to forget it, for I have no desire to do you an injury."

"Nor have I any desire to do you an injury, Dr. Sterndale. Surely the clearest proof of it is that, knowing what

Sterndale sat down with a gasp, overawed for, perhaps, the first time in his adventurous life. There was a

calm assurance of power in Holmes's manner which could not be withstood. Our visitor stammered for a

"What do you mean?" he asked at last. "If this is bluff upon your part, Mr. Holmes, you have chosen a bad

man for your experiment. Let us have no more beating about the bush. What do you mean?"

"I will tell you," said Holmes, "and the reason why I tell you is that I hope frankness may beget frankness.

What my next step may be will depend entirely upon the nature of your own defence."

Sterndale mopped his forehead with his handkerchief. "Upon my word, you are getting on," said he. "Do all

"The bluff," said Holmes sternly, "is upon your side, Dr. Leon Sterndale, and not upon mine. As a proof I will

tell you some of the facts upon which my conclusions are based. Of your return from Plymouth, allowing

much of your property to go on to Africa, I will say nothing save that it first informed me that you were one

of the factors which had to be taken into account in reconstructing this drama "

"I have heard your reasons and regard them as unconvincing and inadequate. We will pass that. You came

down here to ask me whom I suspected. I refused to answer you. You then went to the vicarage, waited

"That is what you may expect to see when I follow you. You spent a restless night at your cottage, and you

formed certain plans, which in the early morning you proceeded to put into execution. Leaving your door just

as day was breaking, you filled your pocket with some reddish gravel that was lying heaped beside your gate."

"You then walked swiftly for the mile which separated you from the vicarage. You were wearing, I may

remark, the same pair of ribbed tennis shoes which are at the present moment upon your feet. At the vicarage

you passed through the orchard and the side hedge, coming out under the window of the lodger Tregennis. It

was now daylight, but the household was not yet stirring. You drew some of the gravel from your pocket, and

Holmes smiled at the compliment. "It took two, or possibly three, handfuls before the lodger came to the

window. You beckoned him to come down. He dressed hurriedly and descended to his sittingroom. You

entered by the window. There was an interview a short one during which you walked up and down the

room. Then you passed out and closed the window, standing on the lawn outside smoking a cigar and

watching what occurred. Finally, after the death of Tregennis, you withdrew as you had come. Now, Dr.

Sterndale, how do you justify such conduct, and what were the motives for your actions? If you prevaricate or

trifle with me, I give you my assurance that the matter will pass out ol my hands forever."

Our visitor's face had turned ashen gray as he listened to the words of his accuser. Now he sat for some time

in thought with his face sunk in his hands. Then with a sudden impulsive gesture he plucked a photograph

"Yes, Brenda Tregennis," repeated our visitor. "For years I have loved her. For years she has loved me. There

is the secret of that Cornish seclusion which people have marvelled at. It has brought me close to the one

thing on earth that was dear to me. I could not marry her, for I have a wife who has left me for years and yet

whom, by the deplorable laws of England, I could not divorce. For years Brenda waited. For years I waited.

And this is what we have waited for." A terrible sob shook his great frame, and he clutched his throat under

"The vicar knew. He was in our confidence. He would tell you that she was an angel upon earth. That was

why he telegraphed to me and I returned. What was my baggage or Africa to me when I learned that such a

fate had come upon my darling? There you have the missing clue to my action, Mr. Holmes."

Dr. Sterndale drew from his pocket a paper packet and laid it upon the table. On the outside was written

"Radix pedis diaboli" with a red poison label beneath it. He pushed it towards me. "I understand that you are

"It is no reflection upon your professional knowledge," said he, "for I believe that, save for one sample in a

laboratory at Buda, there is no other specimen in Europe. It has not yet found its way either into the

pharmacopceia or into the literature of toxicology. The root is shaped like a foot, half human, half goatlike;

hence the fanciful name given by a botanical missionary. It is used as an ordeal poison by the medicinemen

in certain districts of West Africa and is kept as a secret among them. This particular specimen I obtained

under very extraordinary circumstances in the Ubangi country." He opened the paper as he spoke and

"I am about to tell you, Mr. Holmes, all that actually occurred, for you already know so much that it is clearly

to my interest that you should know all. I have already explained the relationship in which I stood to the

Tregennis family. For the sake of the sister I was friendly with the brothers. There was a family quarrel about

money which estranged this man Mortimer, but it was supposed to be made up, and I afterwards met him as I

did the others. He was a sly, subtle, scheming man, and several things arose which gave me a suspicion of

"One day, only a couple of weeks ago, he came down to my cottage and I showed him some of my African

curiosities. Among other things I exhibited this powder, and I told him of its strange properties, how it

stimulates those brain centres which control the emotion of fear, and how either madness or death is the fate

of the unhappy native who is subjected to the ordeal by the priest of his tribe. I told him also how powerless

European science would be to detect it. How hi took it I cannot say, for I never left the room, but there is no

doubt that it was then, while I was opening cabinets and stooping to boxes, that he managed to abstract some

of the devil'sfoot root. I well remember how he plied me with questions as to the amount and the time that

was needed for its effect, but I little dreamed that he could have a personal reason for asking.

"I thought no more of the matter until the vicar's telegram reached me at Plymouth. This villain had thought

that I would be at sea before the news could reach me, and that I should be lost for years in Africa. But I

returned at once. Of course, I could not listen to the details without feeling assured that my poison had been

used. I came round to see you on the chance tbat some other explanation had suggesteid itself to you. But

there could be none. I was convinced that Mortimer Tregennis was the murderer; that for the sake of money,

and with the idea, perhaps, that if the other members of his family were all insane he would be the sole

guardian of their joint property, he had used the devil'sfoot powder upon them, driven two of them out of

their senses, and killed his sister Brenda, the one human being whom I have ever loved or who has ever loved

"Should I appeal to the law? Where were my proofs? I knew that the facts were true, but could I help to make

a jury of countrymen believe so fantastic a story? I might or I might not. But I could not afford to fail. My

soul cried out for revenge. I have said to you once before, Mr. Holmes, that I have spent much of my life

outside the law, and that I have come at last to be a law to myself. So it was now. I determined that the fate

which he had given to others should be shared by himself. Either that or I would do justice upon him with my

own hand. In all England there can be no man who sets less value upon his own life than I do at the present

"Now I have told you all. You have yourself supplied the rest. I did, as you say, after a restless night, set off

early from my cottage. I foresaw the difficulty of arousing him, so I gathered some gravel from the pile which

you have mentioned, and I used it to throw up to his window. He came down and admitted me through the

window of the sittingroom. I laid his offence before him. I told him that I had come both as judge and

executioner. The wretch sank into a chair, paralyzed at the sight of my revolver. I lit the lamp, put the powder

above it, and stood outside the window, ready to carry out my threat to shoot him should he try to leave the

room. In five minutes he died. My God! how he died! But my heart was flint, for he endured nothing which

my innocent darling had not felt before him. There is my story, Mr. Holmes. Perhaps, if you loved a woman,

you would have done as much yourself. At any rate, I am in your hands. You can take what steps you like. As

I have already said, there is no man living who can fear death less than I do. "

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

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

Dr. Sterndale raised his giant figure, bowed gravely, and waliked from the arbour. Holmes lit his pipe and

"Some fumes which are not poisonous would be a welcome change," said he. "I think you must agree,

Watson, that it is not a case in which we are called upon to interfere. Our investigation has been independent,

"I have never loved, Watson, but if I did and if the woman I loved had met such an end, I might act even as

our lawless lionhunter has done. Who knows? Well, Watson, I will not offend your intelligence by

explaining what is obvious. The gravel upon the windowsill was, of course, the starting point of my

research. It was unlike anything in the vicarage garden. Only when my attention had been drawn to Dr.

Sterndale and his cottage did I find its counterpart. The lamp shining in broad daylight and the remains of

powder upon the shield were successive links in a fairly obvious chain. And now, my dear Watson, I think we

may dismiss the matter from our mind and go back with a clear conscience to the study of those Chaldean

roots which are surely to be traced in the Cornish branch of the great Celtic speech."

"Well, Mrs. Warren, I cannot see that you have any particular cause for uneasiness, nor do I understand why

I, whose time is of some value, should interfere in the matter. I really have other things to engage me." So

spoke Sherlock Holmes and turned back to the great scrapbook in which he was arranging and indexing some

But the landlady had the pertinacity and also the cunning of her sex. She held her ground firmly.

"You arranged an affair for a lodger of mine last year," she said "Mr. Fairdale Hobbs."

"But he would never cease talking of it your kindness, sir, and the way in which you brought light into the

darkness. I remembered his words when I was in doubt and darkness myself. I know you could if you only

Holmes was accessible upon the side of flattery, and also, to do him justice, upon the side of kindliness. The

two forces made him lay down his gumbrush with a sigh of resignation and push back his chair.

"Well, well, Mrs. Warren, let us hear about it, then. You don't object to tobacco, I take it? Thank you, Watson

the matches! You are uneasy, as I understand, because your new lodger remains in his rooms and you

cannot see him. Why, bless you, Mrs. Warren, if I were your lodger you often would not see me for weeks on

"No doubt, sir; but this is different. It frightens me, Mr. Holmes. I can't sleep for fright. To hear his quick step

moving here and moving there from early morning to late at night, and yet never to catch so much as a

glimpse of him it's more than I can stand. My husband is as nervous over it as I am, but he is out at his

work all day, while I get no rest from it. What is he hiding for? What has he done? Except for the girl, I am

Holmes leaned forward and laid his long, thin fingers upon the woman's shoulder. He had an almost hypnotic

power of soothing when he wished. The scared look faded from her eyes, and her agitated features smoothed

"If I take it up I must understand every detail," said he. "Take time to consider. The smallest point may be the

most essential. You say that the man came ten days ago and paid you for a fortnight's board and lodging?"

"He asked my terms, sir. I said fifty shillings a week. There is a small sittingroom and bedroom, and all

"He said, 'I'll pay you five pounds a week if I can have it on my own terms.' I'm a poor woman, sir, and Mr.

Warren earns little, and the money meant much to me. He took out a ten pound note, and he held it out to

me then and there. 'You can have the same every fortnight for a long time to come if you keep the terms,' he

"Well, sir, they were that he was to have a key of the house. That was all right. Lodgers often have them.

Also, that he was to be left entirely to himself and never, upon any excuse, to be disturbed."

"Not in reason, sir. But this is out of all reason. He has been there for ten days, and neither Mr. Warren, nor I,

nor the girl has once set eyes upon him. We can hear that quick step of his pacing up and down, up and down,

night, morning, and noon; but except on that first night he has never once gone out of the house."

"Yes, sir, and returned very late after we were all in bed. He told me after he had taken the rooms that he

would do so and asked me not to bar the door. I heard him come up the stair after midnight."

"It was his particular direction that we should always, when he rang, leave his meal upon a chair, outside his

door. Then he rings again when he has finished, and we take it down from the same chair. If he wants

"Yes, sir; prints it in pencil. Just the word, nothing more. Here's one I brought to show you SOAP. Here's

another MATCH. This is one he left the first morning DAILY GAZETTE. I leave that paper with his

"Dear me, Watson," said Holmes, staring with great curiosity at the slips of foolscap which the landlady had

handed to him, "this is certainly a little unusual. Seclusion I can understand; but why print? Printing is a

"But why? What can it matter to him that his landlady should have a word of his writing? Still, it may be as

"It opens a pleasing field for intelligent speculation. The words are written with a broadpointed,

violettinted pencil of a not unusual pattern. You will observe that the paper is torn away at the side here

after the printing was done, so that the s of 'SOAP' is partly gone. Suggestive, Watson, is it not?"

"Exactly. There was evidently some mark, some thumbprint, something which might give a clue to the

person's identity. Now, Mrs. Warren, you say that the man was of middle size, dark, and bearded. What age

"He spoke good English, sir, and yet I thought he was a foreigner by his accent."

"Very smartly dressed, sir quite the gentleman. Dark clothes nothing you would note."

"Well, we don't seem to have much material to help us. Do you say nothing has come out of that room

The landlady drew an envelope from her bag; from it she shook out two burnt matches and a cigaretteend

"They were on his tray this morning. I brought them because I had heard that you can read great things out of

"There is nothing here," said he. "The matches have, of course, been used to light cigarettes. That is obvious

from the shortness of the but end. Half the match is consumed in lighting a pipe or cigar. But, dear me! this

cigarette stub is certainly remarkable. The gentleman was bearded and moustached, you say?"

"I don't understand that. I should say that only a clean shaven man could have smoked this. Why, Watson,

"No, no; the end is matted. I suppose there could not be two people in your rooms, Mrs. Warren?"

"Well, I think we must wait for a little more material. After all, you have nothing to complain of. You have

received your rent, and he is not a troublesome lodger, though he is certainly an unusual one. He pays you

well, and if he chooses to lie concealed it is no direct business of yours. We have no excuse for an intrusion

upon his privacy until we have some reason to think that there is a guilty reason for it. I've taken up the

matter, and I won't lose sight of it. Report to me if anything fresh occurs, and rely upon my assistance if it

"There are certainly some points of interest in this case, Watson," he remarked when the landlady had left us.

"It may, of course, be trivial individual eccentricity; or it may be very much deeper than appears on the

surface. The first thing that strikes one is the obvious possibility that the person now in the rooms may be

"Well, apart from this cigaretteend, was it not suggestive that the only time the lodger went out was

immediately after his taking the rooms? He came back or someone came back when all witnesses were

out of the way. We have no proof that the person who came back was the person who went out. Then, again,

the man who took the rooms spoke English well. This other, however, prints 'match' when it should have

been 'matches.' I can imagine that the word was taken out of a dictionary, which would give the noun but not

the plural. The laconic style may be to conceal the absence of knowledge of English. Yes, Watson, there are

"Ah! there lies our problem. There is one rather obvious line of investigation." He took down the great book

in which, day by day, he filed the agony columns of the various London journals. "Dear me!" said he, turning

over the pages, "what a chorus of groans, cries, and bleatings! What a ragbag of singular happen ings! But

surely the most valuable huntingground that ever was given to a student of the unusual! This person is alone

and cannot be approached by letter without a breach of that absolute secrecy which is desired. How is any

news or any message to reach him from without? Obviously by advertisement through a newspaper. There

seems no other way, and fortunately we need concern ourselves with the one paper only. Here are the Daily

Gazette extracts of the last fortnight. 'Lady with a black boa at Prince's Skating Club' that we may pass.

'Surely Jimmy will not break his mother's heart' that appears to be irrelevant. 'If the lady who fainted in

the Brixton bus' she does not interest me. 'Every day my heart longs ' Bleat, Watson unmitigated

bleat! Ah, this is a little more possible. Listen to this: 'Be patient. Will find some sure means of

communication. Mean while, this column. G.' That is two days after Mrs. Warren's lodger arrived. It sounds

plausible, does it not? The mysterious one could understand English, even if he could not print it. Let us see

if we can pick up the trace again. Yes, here we are three days later. 'Am making successful arrangements.

Patience and prudence. The clouds will pass. G.' Nothing for a week after that. Then comes something much

more definite: 'The path is clearing. If I find chance signal message remember code agreed one A, two B,

and so on. You will hear soon. G.' That was in yesterday's paper, and there is nothing in today's. It's all very

appropriate to Mrs. Warren's lodger. If we wait a little, Watson, I don't doubt that the affair will grow more

So it proved; for in the morning I found my friend standing on the hearthrug with his back to the fire and a

"How's this, Watson?" he cried, picking up the paper from the table. " 'High red house with white stone

facings. Third floor. Second window left. After dusk. G.' That is definite enough. I think after breakfast we

must make a little reconnais sance of Mrs. Warren's neighbourhood. Ah, Mrs. Warren! what news do you

Our client had suddenly burst into the room with an explosive energy which told of some new and

"It's a police matter, Mr. Holmes!" she cried. "I'll have no more of it! He shall pack out of there with his

baggage. I would have gone straight up and told him so, only I thought it was but fair to you to take your

opinion first. But I'm at the end of my patience, and when it comes to knocking my old man about "

"Ah! that's what we want to know! It was this morning, sir. Mr. Warren is a timekeeper at Morton and

Waylight's, in Tottenham Court Road. He has to be out of the house before seven. Well, this morning he had

not gone ten paces down the road when two men came up behind him, threw a coat over his head, and

bundled him into a cab that was beside the curb. They drove him an hour, and then opened the door and shot

him out. He lay in the roadway so shaken in his wits that he never saw what became of the cab. When he

picked himself up he found he was on Hampstead Heath; so he took a bus home, and there he lies now on the

"Most interesting," said Holmes. "Did he observe the ap pearance of these men did he hear them talk?"

"No; he is clean dazed. He just knows that he was lifted up as if by magic and dropped as if by magic. Two at

"Well, we've lived there fifteen years and no such happenings ever came before. I've had enough of him.

"Wait a bit, Mrs. Warren. Do nothing rash. I begin to think that this affair may be very much more important

than appeared at first sight. It is clear now that some danger is threatening your lodger. It is equally clear that

his enemies, lying in wait for him near your door, mistook your husband for him in the foggy morning light.

On discovering their mistake they released him. What they would have done had it not been a mistake, we

"I don't see how that is to be managed, unless you break in the door. I always hear him unlock it as I go down

"He has to take the tray in. Surely we could conceal ourselves and see him do it."

"Well, sir, there's the boxroom opposite. I could arrange a lookingglass, maybe, and if you were behind the

"Then Dr. Watson and I will come round in time. For the present, Mrs. Warren, goodbye."

At halfpast twelve we found ourselves upon the steps of Mrs. Warren's house a high, thin, yellowbrick

edifice in Great Orme Street, a narrow thoroughfare at the northeast side of the British Museum. Standing as

it does near the corner of the street it commands a view down Howe Street, with its more preten tious

houses. Holmes pointed with a chuckle to one of these, a row of residential flats, which projected so that they

"See, Watson!" said he. " 'High red house with stone facings.' There is the signal station all right. We know

the place, and we know the code; so surely our task should be simple. There's a 'to let' card in that window. It

is evidently an empty flat to which the confederate has access. Well, Mrs. Warren, what now?"

"I have it all ready for you. If you will both come up and leave your boots below on the landing, I'll put you

It was an excellent hidingplace which she had arranged. The mirror was so placed that, seated in the dark,

we could very plainly see the door opposite. We had hardly settled down in it, and Mrs. Warren left us, when

a distant tinkle announced that our mysterious neighbour had rung. Presently the landlady ap peared with

the tray, laid it down upon a chair beside the closed door, and then, treading heavily, departed. Crouching

together in the angle of the door, we kept our eyes fixed upon the mirror. Suddenly, as the landlady's

footsteps died away, there was the creak of a turning key, the handle revolved, and two thin hands darted out

and lifted the tray from the chair. An instant later it was hurriedly replaced, and I caught a glimpse of a dark,

beauti ful, horrified face glaring at the narrow opening of the box room. Then the door crashed to, the key

turned once more, and all was silence. Holmes twitched my sleeve, and together we stole down the stair.

"I will call again in the evening," said he to the expectant landlady. "I think, Watson, we can discuss this

"My surmise, as you saw, proved to be correct," said he, speaking from the depths of his easychair. "There

has been a substitution of lodgers. What I did not foresee is that we should find a woman, and no ordinary

"Well, she saw something to alarm her. That is certain. The general sequence of events is pretty clear, is it

not? A couple seek refuge in London from a very terrible and instant danger. The measure of that danger is

the rigour of their precautions. The man, who has some work which he must do, desires to leave the woman

in absolute safety while he does it. It is not an easy problem, but he solved it in an original fashion, and so

effec tively that her presence was not even known to the landlady who supplies her with food. The printed

messages, as is now evident, were to prevent her sex being discovered by her writing. The man cannot come

near the woman, or he will guide their enemies to her. Since he cannot communicate with her direct, he has

"Ah, yes, Watson severely practical, as usual! What is at the root of it all? Mrs. Warren's whimsical

problem enlarges somewhat and assumes a more sinister aspect as we proceed. This much we can say: that it

is no ordinary love escapade. You saw the woman's face at the sign of danger. We have heard, too, of the

attack upon the landlord, which was undoubtedly meant for the lodger. These alarms, and the desperate need

for secrecy, argue that the matter is one of life or death. The attack upon Mr. Warren further shows that the

enemy, whoever they are, are themselves not aware of the substitution of the female lodger for the male. It is

"What, indeed? It is art for art's sake, Watson. I suppose when you doctored you found yourself studying

"Education never ends, Watson. It is a series of lessons with the greatest for the last. This is an instructive

case. There is neither money nor credit in it, and yet one would wish to tidy it up. When dusk comes we

When we returned to Mrs. Warren's rooms, the gloom of a London winter evening had thickened into one

gray curtain, a dead monotone of colour, broken only by the sharp yellow squares of the windows and the

blurred haloes of the gaslamps. As we peered from the darkened sittingroom of the lodging house, one

"Someone is moving in that room," said Holmes in a whis per, his gaunt and eager face thrust forward to the

windowpane. "Yes, I can see his shadow. There he is again! He has a candle in his hand. Now he is peering

across. He wants to be sure that she is on the lookout. Now he begins to flash. Take the message also,

Watson, that we may check each other. A single flash that is A, surely. Now, then. How many did you

make it? Twenty. So did I. That should mean T. AT that's intelligible enough! Another T. Surely this is

the beginning of a second word. Now, then TENTA. Dead stop. That can't be all, Watson? ATTENTA

gives no sense. Nor is it any better as three words AT, TEN, TA, unless T. A. are a person's initials. There it

goes again! What's that? ATTE why, it is the same message over again. Curious, Watson, very curious! Now

he is off once more! AT why, he is repeating it for the third time. ATTENTA three times! How often will

he repeat it? No, that seems to be the finish. He has withdrawn from the window. What do you make of it,

"And not a very obscure cipher, Watson," said he. "Why, of course, it is Italian! The A means that it is

"Not a doubt of it. It is a very urgent message, thrice repeated to make it more so. But beware of what? Wait a

Again we saw the dim silhouette of a crouching man and the whisk of the small flame across the window as

the signals were renewed. They came more rapidly than before so rapid that it was hard to follow them.

"PERICOLO pericolo eh, what's that, Watson? 'Danger,' isn't it? Yes, by Jove, it's a danger signal. There

The light had suddenly gone out, the glimmering square of window had disappeared, and the third floor

formed a dark band round the lofty building, with its tiers of shining casements. That last warning cry had

been suddenly cut short. How, and by whom? The same thought occurred on the instant to us both. Holmes

"This is serious, Watson," he cried. "There is some devilry going forward! Why should such a message stop

in such a way? I should put Scotland Yard in touch with this business and yet, it is too pressing for us to

"We must define the situation a little more clearly. It may bear some more innocent interpretation. Come.

As we walked rapidly down Howe Street I glanced back at the building which we had left. There, dimly

outlined at the top window, I could see the shadow of a head, a woman's head, gazing tensely, rigidly, out

into the night, waiting with breath less suspense for the renewal of that interrupted message. At the doorway

of the Howe Street flats a man, muffled in a cravat and greatcoat, was leaning against the railing. He started

"Why, Gregson!" said my companion as he shook hands with the Scotland Yard detective. "Journeys end

"The same reasons that bring you, I expect," said Gregson. "How you got on to it I can't imagine."

"Different threads, but leading up to the same tangle. I've been taking the signals."

"Yes, from that window. They broke off in the middle. We came over to see the reason. But since it is safe in

"Wait a bit!" cried Gregson eagerly. "I'll do you this justice, Mr. Holmes, that I was never in a case yet that I

didn't feel stronger for having you on my side. There's only the one exit to these flats, so we have him safe."

"Well, well, we score over you for once, Mr. Holmes. You must give us best this time." He struck his stick

sharply upon the ground, on which a cabman, his whip in his hand, sauntered over from a fourwheeler

which stood on the far side of the street. "May I introduce you to Mr. Sherlock Holmes?" he said to the

"The hero of the Long Island cave mystery?" said Holmes. "Sir, I am pleased to meet you."

The American, a quiet, businesslike young man, with a clean shaven, hatchet face, flushed up at the words

of commendation. "I am on the trail of my life now, Mr. Holmes," said he. "If I can get Gorgiano "

"Oh, he has a European fame, has he? Well, we've learned all about him in America. We know he is at the

bottom of fifty murders, and yet we have nothing positive we can take him on. I tracked him over from New

York, and I've been close to him for a week in London, waiting some excuse to get my hand on his collar.

Mr. Gregson and I ran him to ground in that big tenement house, and there's only the one door, so he can't

slip us. There's three folk come out since he went in, but I'll swear he wasn't one of them."

"Mr. Holmes talks of signals," said Gregson. "I expect, as usual, he knows a good deal that we don't."

"Well, it figures out that way, does it not? Here he is, sending out messages to an accomplice there are

several of his gang in London. Then suddenly, just as by your own account he was telling them that there was

danger, he broke short off. What could it mean except that from the window he had suddenly either caught

sight of us in the street, or in some way come to understand how close the danger was, and that he must act

"He is in unoccupied premises under suspicious circumstances," said Gregson. "That is good enough for the

moment. When we have him by the heels we can see if New York can't help us to keep him. I'll take the

Our official detectives may blunder in the matter of intelli gence, but never in that of courage. Gregson

climbed the stair to arrest this desperate murderer with the same absolutely quiet and businesslike bearing

with which he would have ascended the official staircase of Scotland Yard. The Pinkerton man had tried to

push past him, but Gregson had firmly elbowed him back. London dangers were the privilege of the London

The door of the lefthand flat upon the third landing was standing ajar. Gregson pushed it open. Within all

was absolute silence and darkness. I struck a match and lit the detective's lantern. As I did so, and as the

flicker steadied into a flame, we all gave a gasp of surprise. On the deal boards of the carpetless floor there

was outlined a fresh track of blood. The red steps pointed towards us and led away from an inner room, the

door of which was closed. Gregson flung it open and held his light full blaze in front of him, while we all

In the middle of the floor of the empty room was huddled the figure of an enormous man, his cleanshaven,

swarthy face grotesquely horrible in its contortion and his head encircled by a ghastly crimson halo of blood,

lying in a broad wet circle upon the white woodwork. His knees were drawn up, his hands thrown out in

agony, and from the centre of his broad, brown, upturned throat there projected the white haft of a knife

driven bladedeep into his body. Giant as he was, the man must have gone down like a poleaxed ox before

that terrific blow. Beside his right hand a most formidable hornhandled, twoedged dagger lay upon the

"By George! it's Black Gorgiano himself!" cried the Ameri can detective. "Someone has got ahead of us this

"Here is the candle in the window, Mr. Holmes," said Gregson. "Why, whatever are you doing?"

Holmes had stepped across, had lit the candle, and was pass ing it backward and forward across the

windowpanes. Then he peered into the darkness, blew the candle out, and threw it on the floor.

"I rather think that will be helpful," said he. He came over and stood in deep thought while the two

professionals were examining the body. "You say that three people came out from the flat while you were

"That is your man, I fancy. I can give you his description, and we have a very excellent outline of his

We all turned round at the words. There, framed in the doorway, was a tall and beautiful woman the

mysterious lodger of Bloomsbury. Slowly she advanced, her face pale and drawn with a frightful

apprehension, her eyes fixed and staring, her terrified gaze riveted upon the dark figure on the floor.

"You have killed him!" she muttered. "Oh, Dio mio, you have killed him!" Then I heard a sudden sharp

intake of her breath, and she sprang into the air with a cry of joy. Round and round the room she danced, her

hands clapping, her dark eyes gleaming with delighted wonder, and a thousand pretty Italian exclamations

pouring from her lips. It was terrible and amazing to see such a woman so convulsed with joy at such a sight.

"But you! You are police, are you not? You have killed Giuseppe Gorgiano. Is it not so?"

"But where, then, is Gennaro?" she asked. "He is my hus band, Gennaro Lucca. I am Emilia Lucca, and we

are both from New York. Where is Gennaro? He called me this moment from this window, and I ran with all

"Your cipher was not difficult, madam. Your presence here was desirable. I knew that I had only to flash

"I do not understand how you know these things," she said. "Giuseppe Gorgiano how did he " She

paused, and then suddenly her face lit up with pride and delight. "Now I see it! My Gennaro! My splendid,

beautiful Gennaro, who has guarded me safe from all harm, he did it, with his own strong hand he killed the

monster! Oh, Gennaro, how wonderful you are! What woman could ever be worthy of such a man?"

"Well, Mrs. Lucca," said the prosaic Gregson, laying his hand upon the lady's sleeve with as little sentiment

as if she were a Notting Hill hooligan, "I am not very clear yet who you are or what you are; but you've said

"One moment, Gregson," said Holmes. "I rather fancy that this lady may be as anxious to give us information

as we can be to get it. You understand, madam, that your husband will be arrested and tried for the death of

the man who lies before us? What you say may be used in evidence. But if you think that he has acted from

motives which are not criminal, and which he would wish to have known, then you cannot serve him better

"Now that Gorgiano is dead we fear nothing," said the lady. "He was a devil and a monster, and there can be

"In that case," said Holmes, "my suggestion is that we lock this door, leave things as we found them, go with

this lady to her room, and form our opinion after we have heard what it is that she has to say to us."

Half an hour later we were seated, all four, in the small sittingroom of Signora Lucca, listening to her

remarkable narra tive of those sinister events, the ending of which we had chanced to witness. She spoke in

rapid and fluent but very unconventional English, which, for the sake of clearness, I will make grammatical.

"I was born in Posilippo, near Naples," said she, "and was the daughter of Augusto Barelli, who was the chief

lawyer and once the deputy of that part. Gennaro was in my father's em ployment, and I came to love him,

as any woman must. He had neither money nor position nothing but his beauty and strength and energy

so my father forbade the match. We fled together, were married at Bari, and sold my jewels to gain the

money which would take us to America. This was four years ago, and we have been in New York ever since.

"Fortune was very good to us at first. Gennaro was able to do a service to an Italian gentleman he saved

him from some ruffians in the place called the Bowery and so made a powerful friend. His name was Tito

Castalotte and he was the senior partner of the great firm of Castalotte and Zamba, who are the chief fruit

importers of New York. Signor Zamba is an invalid, and our new friend Castalotte has all power within the

firm, which employs more than three hundred men. He took my husband into his employment, made him

head of a department, and showed his goodwill towards him in every way. Signor Castalotte was a bachelor,

and I believe that he felt as if Gennaro was his son, and both my husband and I loved him as if he were our

father. We had taken and furnished a little house in Brook lyn, and our whole future seemed assured when

"One night, when Gennaro returned from his work, he brought a fellowcountryman back with him. His

name was Gorgiano, and he had come also from Posilippo. He was a huge man, as you can testify, for you

have looked upon his corpse. Not only was his body that of a giant but everything about him was grotesque,

gigantic, and terrifying. His voice was like thunder in our little house. There was scarce room for the whirl of

his great arms as he talked. His thoughts, his emotions, his passions, all were exaggerated and monstrous. He

talked, or rather roared, with such energy that others could but sit and listen, cowed with the mighty stream of

words. His eyes blazed at you and held you at his mercy. He was a terrible and wonderful man. I thank God

"He came again and again. Yet I was aware that Gennaro was no more happy than I was in his presence. My

poor husband would sit pale and listless, listening to the endless raving upon politics and upon social

questions which made up our visitor's conversation. Gennaro said nothing, but I, who knew him so well,

could read in his face some emotion which I had never seen there before. At first I thought that it was dislike.

And then, gradually, I understood that it was more than dislike. It was fear a deep, secret, shrinking fear.

That night the night that I read his terror I put my arms round him and I implored him by his love for

me and by all that he held dear to hold nothing from me, and to tell me why this huge man overshadowed him

"He told me, and my own heart grew cold as ice as I listened. My poor Gennaro, in his wild and fiery days,

when all the world seemed against him and his mind was driven half mad by the injustices of life, had joined

a Neapolitan society, the Red Circle, which was allied to the old Carbonari. The oaths and secrets of this

brotherhood were frightful, but once within its rule no escape was possible. When we had fled to America

Gennaro thought that he had cast it all off forever. What was his horror one evening to meet in the streets the

very man who had initiated him in Naples, the giant Gorgiano, a man who had earned the name of 'Death' in

the south of Italy, for he was red to the elbow in murder! He had come to New York to avoid the Italian

police, and he had already planted a branch of this dreadful society in his new home. All this Gennaro told

me and showed me a summons which he had received that very day, a Red Circle drawn upon the head of it

telling him that a lodge would be held upon a certain date, and that his presence at it was required and

"That was bad enough, but worse was to come. I had noticed for some time that when Gorgiano came to us,

as he constantly did, in the evening, he spoke much to me; and even when his words were to my husband

those terrible, glaring, wildbeast eyes of his were always turned upon me. One night his secret came out. I

had awakened what he called 'love' within him the love of a brute a savage. Gennaro had not yet

returned when he came. He pushed his way in, seized me in his mighty arms, hugged me in his bear's

embrace, covered me with kisses, and implored me to come away with him. I was struggling and screaming

when Gennaro entered and attacked him. He struck Gennaro senseless and fled from the house which he was

"A few days later came the meeting. Gennaro returned from it with a face which told me that something

dreadful had occurred. It was worse than we could have imagined possible. The funds of the society were

raised by blackmailing rich Italians and threatening them with violence should they refuse the money. It

seems that Castalotte, our dear friend and benefactor, had been approached. He had refused to yield to threats,

and he had handed the notices to the police. It was resolved now that such an example should be made of him

as would prevent any other victim from rebelling. At the meeting it was arranged that he and his house should

be blown up with dynamite. There was a drawing of lots as to who should carry out the deed. Gennaro saw

our enemy's cruel face smiling at him as he dipped his hand in the bag. No doubt it had been prearranged in

some fashion, for it was the fatal disc with the Red Circle upon it, the mandate for murder, which lay upon

his palm. He was to kill his best friend, or he was to expose himself and me to the vengeance of his comrades.

It was part of their fiendish system to punish those whom they feared or hated by injuring not only their own

persons but those whom they loved, and it was the knowledge of this which hung as a terror over my poor

"All that night we sat together, our arms round each other, each strengthening each for the troubles that lay

before us. The very next evening had been fixed tor the attempt. By midday my husband and I were on our

way to London, but not before he had given our benefactor full warning of his danger, and had also left such

"The rest, gentlemen, you know for yourselves. We were sure that our enemies would be behind us like our

own shadows. Gorgiano had his private reasons for vengeance, but in any case we knew how ruthless,

cunning, and untiring he could be. Both Italy and America are full of stories of his dreadful powers. If ever

they were exerted it would be now. My darling made use of the few clear days which our start had given us in

arranging for a refuge for me in such a fashion that no possible danger could reach me. For his own part, he

wished to be free that he might communicate both with the American and with the Italian police. I do not

myself know where he lived, or how. All that I learned was through the columns of a newspaper. But once as

I looked through my window, I saw two Italians watching the house, and I understood that in some way

Gorgiano had found out our retreat. Finally Gennaro told me, through the paper, that he would signal to me

from a certain window, but when the signals came they were nothing but warnings, which were suddenly

interrupted. It is very clear to me now that he knew Gorgiano to be close upon him, and that, thank God, he

was ready for him when he came. And now, gentlemen, I would ask you whether we have anything to fear

from the law, or whether any judge upon earth would condemn my Gennaro for what he has done?"

"Well, Mr. Gregson," said the American, looking across at the official, "I don't know what your British point

of view may be, but I guess that in New York this lady's husband will receive a pretty general vote of thanks."

"She will have to come with me and see the chief," Gregson answered. "If what she says is corroborated, I do

not think she or her husband has much to fear. But what I can't make head or tail of, Mr. Holmes, is how on

"Education, Gregson, education. Still seeking knowledge at the old university. Well, Watson, you have one

more specimen of the tragic and grotesque to add to your collection. By the way, it is not eight o'clock, and a

Wagner night at Covent Garden! If we hurry, we might be in time for the second act."

"But why Turkish?" asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes, gazing fix edly at my boots. I was reclining in a

canebacked chair at the moment, and my protruded feet had attracted his everactive attention.

"English," I answered in some surprise. "I got them at Latimer's, in Oxford Street."

"The bath!" he said; "the bath! Why the relaxing and expen sive Turkish rather than the invigorating

"Because for the last few days I have been feeling rheumatic and old. A Turkish bath is what we call an

"By the way, Holmes," I added, "I have no doubt the connection between my boots and a Turkish bath is a

perfectly selfevident one to a logical mind, and yet I should be obliged to you if you would indicate it."

"The train of reasoning is not very obscure, Watson," said Holmes with a mischievous twinkle. "It belongs to

the same elementary class of deduction which I should illustrate if I were to ask you who shared your cab in

"I don't admit that a fresh illustration is an explanation," said I with some asperity.

"Bravo, Watson! A very dignified and logical remonstrance. Let me see, what were the points? Take the last

one first the cab. You observe that you have some splashes on the left sleeve and shoulder of your coat.

Had you sat in the centre of a hansom you would probably have had no splashes, and if you had they would

certainly have been symmetrical. Therefore it is clear that you sat at the side. Therefore it is equally clear that

"Equally childish. You are in the habit of doing up your boots in a certain way. I see them on this occasion

fastened with an elaborate double bow, which is not your usual method of tying them. You have, therefore,

had them off. Who has tied them? A bootmaker or the boy at the bath. It is unlikely that it is the

bootmaker, since your boots are nearly new. Well, what re mains? The bath. Absurd, is it not? But, for all

"You say that you have had it because you need a change. Let me suggest that you take one. How would

Lausanne do, my dear Watson firstclass tickets and all expenses paid on a princely scale?"

"One of the most dangerous classes in the world," said he, "is the drifting and friendless woman. She is the

most harmless and often the most useful of mortals, but she is the inevitable inciter of crime in others. She is

helpless. She is migratory. She has sufficient means to take her from country to country and from hotel to

hotel. She is lost, as often as not, in a maze of obscure pensions and boardinghouses. She is a stray chicken

in a world of foxes. When she is gobbled up she is hardly missed. I much fear that some evil has come to the

I was relieved at this sudden descent from the general to the particular. Holmes consulted his notes.

"Lady Frances," he continued, "is the sole survivor of the direct family of the late Earl of Rufton. The estates

went, as you may remember, in the male line. She was left with limited means, but with some very

remarkable old Spanish jewellery of silver and curiously cut diamonds to which she was fondly attached

too attached, for she refused to leave them with her banker and always carried them about with her. A rather

pathetic figure, the Lady Frances, a beautiful woman, still in fresh mid dle age, and yet, by a strange chance,

"Ah, what has happened to the Lady Frances? Is she alive or dead? There is our problem. She is a lady of

precise habits, and for four years it has been her invariable custom to write every second week to Miss

Dobney, her old governess, who has long retired and lives in Camberwell. It is this Miss Dobney who has

consulted me. Nearly five weeks have passed without a word. The last letter was from the Hotel National at

Lausanne. Lady Frances seems to have left there and given no address. The family are anxious, and as they

"Is Miss Dobney the only source of information? Surely she had other correspondents?"

"There is one correspondent who is a sure draw, Watson. That is the bank. Single ladies must live, and their

passbooks are compressed diaries. She banks at Silvester's. I have glanced over her account. The last check

but one paid her bill at Lausanne but it was a large one and probably left her with cash in hand. Only one

"To Miss Marie Devine. There is nothing to show where the check was drawn. It was cashed at the Credit

"That also I have been able to discover. Miss Marie Devine was the maid of Lady Frances Carfax. Why she

should have paid her this check we have not yet determined. I have no doubt, however, that your researches

"Hence the healthgiving expedition to Lausanne. You know that I cannot possibly leave London while old

Abrahams is in such mortal terror of his life. Besides, on general principles it is best that I should not leave

the country. Scotland Yard feels lonely without me, and it causes an unhealthy excitement among the

criminal classes. Go, then, my dear Watson, and if my humble counsel can ever be valued at so extravagant a

rate as two pence a word, it waits your disposal night and day at the end of the Continental wire."

Two days later found me at the Hotel National at Lausanne, where I received every courtesy at the hands of

M. Moser, the wellknown manager. Lady Frances, as he informed me, had stayed there for several weeks.

She had been much liked by all who met her. Her age was not more than forty. She was still handsome and

bore every sign of having in her youth been a very lovely woman. M. Moser knew nothing of any valuable

jewellery, but it had been remarked by the servants that the heavy trunk in the lady's bedroom was always

scrupulously locked. Marie Devine, the maid, was as popular as her mistress. She was actually engaged to

one of the head waiters in the hotel, and there was no difficulty in getting her address. It was 11 Rue de

Trajan, Montpellier. All this I jotted down and felt that Holmes himself could not have been more adroit in

Only one corner still remained in the shadow. No light which I possessed could clear up the cause for the

lady's sudden depar ture. She was very happy at Lausanne. There was every reason to believe that she

intended to remain for the season in her luxurious rooms overlooking the lake. And yet she had left at a single

day's notice, which involved her in the useless payment of a week's rent. Only Jules Vibart, the lover of the

maid, had any suggestion to offer. He connected the sudden departure with the visit to the hotel a day or two

before of a tall, dark, bearded man. "Un sauvage un veritable sauvage!" cried Jules Vibart. The man had

rooms somewhere in the town. He had been seen talking earnestly to Madame on the promenade by the lake.

Then he had called. She had refused to see him. He was English, but of his name there was no record.

Madame had left the place immediately afterwards. Jules Vibart, and, what was of more importance, Jules

Vibart's sweetheart, thought that this call and this departure were cause and effect. Only one thing Jules

would not discuss. That was the reason why Marie had left her mis tress. Of that he could or would say

So ended the first chapter of my inquiry. The second was devoted to the place which Lady Frances Carfax

had sought when she left Lausanne. Concerning this there had been some secrecy, which confirmed the idea

that she had gone with the intention of throwing someone off her track. Otherwise why should not her

luggage have been openly labelled for Baden? Both she and it reached the Rhenish spa by some circuitous

route. This much I gathered from the manager of Cook's local office. So to Baden I went, after dispatching to

Holmes an account of all my proceedings and receiving in reply a telegram of halfhumorous commendation.

At Baden the track was not difficult to follow. Lady Frances had stayed at the Englischer Hof for a fortnight.

While there she had made the acquaintance of a Dr. Shlessinger and his wife, a missionary from South

America. Like most lonely ladies, Lady Frances found her comfort and occupation in religion. Dr. Shles

singer's remarkable personality, his wholehearted devotion, and the fact that he was recovering from a

disease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected her deeply. She had helped Mrs. Shlessinger

in the nursing of the convalescent saint. He spent his day, as the manager described it to me, upon a

loungechair on the veranda, with an attendant lady upon either side of him. He was preparing a map of the

Holy Land, with special reference to the kingdom of the Midianites, upon which he was writing a

monograph. Finally, having improved much in health, he and his wife had returned to London, and Lady

Frances had started thither in their company. This was just three weeks before, and the manager had heard

nothing since. As to the maid, Marie, she had gone off some days beforehand in floods of tears, after

informing the other maids that she was leaving service forever. Dr. Shlessinger had paid the bill of the whole

"By the way," said the landlord in conclusion, "you are not the only friend of Lady Frances Carfax who is

inquiring after her just now. Only a week or so ago we had a man here upon the same errand."

"A savage?" said I, linking my facts after the fashion of my illustrious friend.

"Exactly. That describes him very well. He is a bulky, bearded, sunburned fellow, who looks as if he would

be more at home in a farmers' inn than in a fashionable hotel. A hard, fierce man, I should think, and one

Already the mystery began to define itself, as figures grow clearer with the lifting of a fog. Here was this

good and pious lady pursued from place to place by a sinister and unrelenting figure. She feared him, or she

would not have fled from Lausanne. He had still followed. Sooner or later he would overtake her. Had he

already overtaken her? Was that the secret of her contin ued silence? Could the good people who were her

companions not screen her from his violence or his blackmail? What horrible purpose, what deep design, lay

To Holmes I wrote showing how rapidly and surely I had got down to the roots of the matter. In reply I had a

telegram asking for a description of Dr. Shlessinger's left ear. Holmes's ideas of humour are strange and

occasionally offensive, so I took no notice of his illtimed jest indeed, I had already reached Mont

I had no difficulty in finding the exservant and in learning all that she could tell me. She was a devoted

creature, who had only left her mistress because she was sure that she was in good hands, and because her

own approaching marriage made a sepa ration inevitable in any case. Her mistress had, as she confessed

with distress, shown some irritability of temper towards her during their stay in Baden, and had even

questioned her once as if she had suspicions of her honesty, and this had made the parting easier than it would

otherwise have been. Lady Frances had given her fifty pounds as a weddingpresent. Like me, Marie viewed

with deep distrust the stranger who had driven her mis tress from Lausanne. With her own eyes she had seen

him seize the lady's wrist with great violence on the public promenade by the lake. He was a fierce and

terrible man. She believed that it was out of dread of him that Lady Frances had accepted the escort of the

Shlessingers to London. She had never spoken to Marie about it, but many little signs had convinced the maid

that her mistress lived in a state of continual nervous apprehension. So far she had got in her narrative, when

suddenly she sprang from her chair and her face was convulsed with surprise and fear. "See!" she cried. "The

Through the open sittingroom window I saw a huge, swarthy man with a bristling black beard walking

slowly down the centre of the street and staring eagerly at the numbers of the houses. It was clear that, like

myself, he was on the track of the maid. Acting upon the impulse of the moment, I rushed out and accosted

"What have you done with her? Why have you pursued her? I insist upon an answer!" said I.

The fellow gave a bellow of anger and sprang upon me like a tiger. I have held my own in many a struggle,

but the man had a grip of iron and the fury of a fiend. His hand was on my throat and my senses were nearly

gone before an unshaven French ouvrier in a blue blouse darted out from a cabaret opposite, with a cudgel in

his hand, and struck my assailant a sharp crack over the forearm, which made him leave go his hold. He stood

for an instant fuming with rage and uncertain whether he should not renew his attack. Then, with a snarl of

anger, he left me and entered the cottage from which I had just come. I turned to thank my preserver, who

"Well, Watson," said he, "a very pretty hash you have made of it! I rather think you had better come back

An hour afterwards, Sherlock Holmes, in his usual garb and style, was seated in my private room at the hotel.

His explana tion of his sudden and opportune appearance was simplicity itself, for, finding that he could get

away from London, he determined to head me off at the next obvious point of my travels. In the disguise of a

"And a singularly consistent investigation you have made, my dear Watson," said he. "I cannot at the moment

recall any possible blunder which you have omitted. The total effect of your proceeding has been to give the

"There is no 'perhaps' about it. I have done better. Here is the Hon. Philip Green, who is a fellowlodger with

you in this hotel, and we may find him the startingpoint for a more successful investigation."

A card had come up on a salver, and it was followed by the same bearded ruffian who had attacked me in the

"What is this, Mr. Holmes?" he asked. "I had your note and I have come. But what has this man to do with

"This is my old friend and associate, Dr. Watson, who is helping us in this affair."

"I hope I didn't harm you. When you accused me of hurting her I lost my grip of myself. Indeed, I'm not

responsible in these days. My nerves are like live wires. But this situation is beyond me. What I want to

know, in the first place, Mr. Holmes, is, how in the world you came to hear of my existence at all."

"And she remembers you. It was in the days before before you found it better to go to South Africa."

"Ah, I see you know my whole story. I need hide nothing from you. I swear to you, Mr. Holmes, that there

never was in this world a man who loved a woman with a more wholehearted love than I had for Frances. I

was a wild youngster, I know not worse than others of my class. But her mind was pure as snow. She

could not bear a shadow of coarseness. So, when she came to hear of things that I had done, she would bave

no more to say to me. And yet she loved me that is the wonder of it! loved me well enough to remain

single all her sainted days just for my sake alone. When the years had passed and I had made my money at

Barberton I thought perhaps I could seek her out and soften her. I had heard that she was still unmarried. I

found her at Lausanne and tried all I knew. She weakened, I think, but her will was strong, and when next I

called she had left the town. I traced her to Baden, and then after a time heard that her maid was here. I'm a

rough fellow, fresh from a rough life, and when Dr. Watson spoke to me as he did I lost hold of myself for a

"That is for us to find out," said Sherlock Holmes with peculiar gravity. "What is your London address, Mr.

"Then may I recommend that you return there and be on hand in case I should want you? I have no desire to

encourage false hopes, but you may rest assured that all that can be done will be done for the safety of Lady

Frances. I can say no more for the instant. I will leave you this card so that you may be able to keep in touch

with us. Now, Watson, if you will pack your bag I will cable to Mrs. Hudson to make one of her best efforts

A telegram was awaiting us when we reached our Baker Street rooms, which Holmes read with an

exclamation of interest and threw across to me. "Jagged or torn," was the message, and the place of origin,

"It is everything," Holmes answered. "You may remember my seemingly irrelevant question as to this

"Exactly. For this reason I sent a duplicate to the manager of the Englischer Hof, whose answer lies here."

"It shows, my dear Watson, that we are dealing with an exceptionally astute and dangerous man. The Rev.

Dr. Shlessinger, missionary from South America, is none other than Holy Peters, one of the most

unscrupulous rascals that Australia has ever evolved and for a young country it has turned out some very

finished types. His particular specialty is the beguiling of lonely ladies by playing upon their religious

feelings, and his socalled wife, an Englishwoman named Fraser, is a worthy helpmate. The nature of his

tactics suggested his identity to me, and this physical peculiarity he was badly bitten in a saloonfight at

Adelaide in '89 confirmed my suspicion. This poor lady is in the hands of a most infernal couple, who will

stick at nothing, Watson. That she is already dead is a very likely supposition. If not, she is undoubtedly in

some sort of confinement and unable to write to Miss Dobney or her other friends. It is always possible that

she never reached London, or that she has passed through it, but the former is improbable, as, with their

system of registration, it is not easy for foreigners to play tricks with the Continental police; and the latter is

also unlikely, as these rogues could not hope to find any other place where it would be as easy to keep a

person under restraint. All my instincts tell me that she is in London, but as we have at present no possible

means of telling where, we can only take the obvious steps, eat our dinner, and possess our souls in patience.

Later in the evening I will stroll down and have a word with friend Lestrade at Scotland Yard."

But neither the official police nor Holmes's own small but very efficient organization sufficed to clear away

the mystery. Amid the crowded millions of London the three persons we sought were as completely

obliterated as if they had never lived. Advertisements were tried, and failed. Clues were followed, and led to

nothing. Every criminal resort which Shlessinger might frequent was drawn in vain. His old associates were

watched but they kept clear of him. And then suddenly, after a week of helpless suspense, there came a flash

of light. A silverand brilliant pendant of old Spanish design had been pawned at Bovington's, in

Westminster Road. The pawner was a large cleanshaven man of clerical appearance. His name and address

were demonstrably false. The ear had escaped notice, but the description was surely that of Shlessinger.

Three times had our bearded friend from the Langham called for news the third time within an hour of this

fresh develop ment. His clothes were getting looser on his great body. He seemed to be wilting away in his

anxiety. "If you will only give me something to do!" was his constant wail. At last Holmes could oblige him.

"Supposing that they have held her prisoner up to now, it is clear that they cannot let her loose without their

"It is possible that he will go to some other pawnbroker in the future. In that case, we must begin again. On

the other hand, he has had a fair price and no questions asked, so if he is in need of readymoney he will

probably come back to Bovington's. I will give you a note to them, and they will let you wait in the shop. If

the fellow comes you will follow him home. But no indiscretion and, above all, no violence. I put you on

For two days the Hon. Philip Green (he was, I may mention the son of the famous admiral of that name who

commanded the Sea of Azof fleet in the Crimean War) brought us no news. On the evening of the third he

rushed into our sittingroom, pale, trembling, with every muscle of his powerful frame quivering with

He was incoherent in his agitation. Holmes soothed him with a few words and thrust him into an armchair.

"She came only an hour ago. It was the wife, this time, but the pendant she brought was the fellow of the

"She left the office and I followed her. She walked up the Kennington Road, and I kept behind her. Presently

My companion started. "Well?" he asked in that vibrant voice which told of the fiery soul behind the cold

"She was talking to the woman behind the counter. I entered as well. 'It is late,' I heard her say, or words to

that effect. The woman was excusing herself. 'It should be there before now,' she answered. 'It took longer,

being out of the ordinary.' They both stopped and looked at me, so I asked some question and then left the

"The woman came out, but I had hid myself in a doorway. Her suspicions had been aroused, I think, for she

looked round her. Then she called a cab and got in. I was lucky enough to get another and so to follow her.

She got down at last at No. 36 Poultney Square, Brixton. I drove past, left my cab at the corner of the square,

"The windows were all in darkness save one on the lower floor. The blind was down, and I could not see in. I

was standing there, wondering what I should do next, when a cov ered van drove up with two men in it.

They descended, took something out of the van, and carried it up the steps to the hall door. Mr. Holmes, it

"For an instant I was on the point of rushing in. The door had been opened to admit the men and their burden.

It was the woman who had opened it. But as I stood there she caught a glimpse of me, and I think that she

recognized me. I saw her start, and she hastily closed the door. I remembered my promise to you, and here I

"You have done excellent work," said Holmes, scribbling a few words upon a halfsheet of paper. "We can

do nothing legal without a warrant, and you can serve the cause best by taking this note down to the

authorities and getting one. There may be some difficulty, but I should think that the sale of the jewellery

"But they may murder her in the meanwhile. What could the coffin mean, and for whom could it be but for

"We will do all that can be done, Mr. Green. Not a moment will be lost. Leave it in our hands. Now,

Watson," he added as our client hurried away, "he will set the regular forces on the move. We are, as usual,

the irregulars, and we must take our own line of action. The situation strikes me as so desperate that the most

extreme measures are justified. Not a moment is to be lost in getting to Poultney Square.

"Let us try to reconstruct the situation," said he as we drove swiftly past the Houses of Parliament and over

Westminster Bridge. "These villains have coaxed this unhappy lady to Lon don, after first alienating her

from her faithful maid. If she has written any letters they have been intercepted. Through some confederate

they have engaged a furnished house. Once inside it, they have made her a prisoner, and they have become

possessed of the valuable jewellery which has been their object from the first. Already they have begun to sell

part of it, which seems safe enough to them, since they have no reason to think that anyone is interested in the

lady's fate. When she is released she will, of course, denounce them. Therefore, she must not be released. But

they cannot keep her under lock and key forever. So murder is their only solution."

"Now we will take another line of reasoning. When you follow two separate chains of thought, Watson, you

will find some point of intersection which should approximate to the truth. We will start now, not from the

lady but from the coffin and argue backward. That incident proves, I fear, beyond all doubt that the lady is

dead. It points also to an orthodox burial with proper accompaniment of medical certificate and official sanc

tion. Had the lady been obviously murdered, they would have buried her in a hole in the back garden. But

here all is open and regular. What does that mean? Surely that they have done her to death in some way

which has deceived the doctor and simulated a natural end poisoning, perhaps. And yet how strange that

they should ever let a doctor approach her unless he were a confeder ate, which is hardly a credible

"Dangerous, Watson, very dangerous. No, I hardly see them doing that. Pull up, cabby! This is evidently the

undertaker's, for we have just passed the pawnbroker's. Would you go in, Wat son? Your appearance

inspires confidence. Ask what hour the Poultney Square funeral takes place tomorrow."

The woman in the shop answered me without hesitation that it was to be at eight o'clock in the morning. "You

see, Watson, no mystery; everything aboveboard! In some way the legal forms have undoubtedly been

complied with, and they think that they have little to fear. Well, there's nothing for it now but a direct frontal

"Well, well, we shall be strong enough. 'Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just.' We simply can't afford

to wait for the police or to keep within the four corners of the law. You can drive off, cabby. Now, Watson,

He had rung loudly at the door of a great dark house in the centre of Poultney Square. It was opened

immediately, and the figure of a tall woman was outlined against the dimlit hall.

"Well, what do you want?" she asked sharply, peering at us through the darkness.

"There is no such person here," she answered, and tried to close the door, but Holmes had jammed it with his

"Well, I want to see the man who lives here, whatever he may call himself," said Holmes firmly.

She hesitated. Then she threw open the door. "Well, come in!" said she. "My husband is not afraid to face any

man in the world." She closed the door behind us and showed us into a sittingroom on the right side of the

hall, turning up the gas as she left us. "Mr. Peters will be with you in an instant," she said.

Her words were literally true, for we had hardly time to look around the dusty and motheaten apartment in

which we found ourselves before the door opened and a big, cleanshaven bald headed man stepped lightly

into the room. He had a large red face, with pendulous cheeks, and a general air of superficial benevolence

"There is surely some mistake here, gentlemen," he said in an unctuous, makeeverythingeasy voice. "I

fancy that you have been misdirected. Possibly if you tried farther down the street "

"That will do; we have no time to waste," said my compan ion firmly. "You are Henry Peters, of Adelaide,

late the Rev. Dr. Shlessinger, of Baden and South America. I am as sure of that as that my own name is

Peters, as I will now call him, started and stared hard at his formidable pursuer. "I guess your name does not

frighten me, Mr. Holmes," said he coolly. "When a man's conscience is easy you can't rattle him. What is

"I want to know what you have done with the Lady Frances Carfax, whom you brought away with you from

"I'd be very glad if you could tell me where that lady may be," Peters answered coolly. "I've a bill against her

for nearly a hundred pounds, and nothing to show for it but a couple of trumpery pendants that the dealer

would hardly look at. She attached herself to Mrs. Peters and me at Baden it is a fact that I was using

another name at the time and she stuck on to us until we came to London. I paid her bill and her ticket.

Once in London, she gave us the slip, and, as I say, left these outofdate jewels to pay her bills. You find

"I mean to find her," said Sherlock Holmes. "I'm going through this house till I do find her."

Holmes half drew a revolver from his pocket. "This will have to serve till a better one comes."

"So you might describe me," said Holmes cheerfully. "My companion is also a dangerous ruffian. And

"Fetch a policeman, Annie!" said he. There was a whisk of feminine skirts down the passage, and the hall

"Our time is limited, Watson," said Holmes. "If you try to stop us, Peters, you will most certainly get hurt.

"Then without it." With a quick movement Holmes pushed the fellow to one side and passed into the hall. A

door half opened stood immediately before us. We entered. It was the diningroom. On the table, under a

halflit chandelier, the coffin was lying. Holmes turned up the gas and raised the lid. Deep down in the

recesses of the coffin lay an emaciated figure. The glare from the lights above beat down upon an aged and

withered face. By no possible process of cruelty, starvation, or disease could this wornout wreck be the still

beautiful Lady Frances. Holmes's face showed his amazement, and also his relief.

"Ah, you've blundered badly for once, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said Peters, who had followed us into the room.

"Well, if you really must know, she is an old nurse of my wife's, Rose Spender by name, whom we found in

the Brixton Workhouse Infirmary. We brought her round here, called in Dr. Horsom, of 13 Firbank Villas

mind you take the address, Mr. Holmes and had her carefully tended, as Christian folk should. On the

third day she died certificate says senile decay but that's only the doctor's opinion, and of course you

know better. We ordered her funeral to be carried out by Stimson and Co., of the Kennington Road, who will

bury her at eight o'clock to morrow morning. Can you pick any hole in that, Mr. Holmes? You've made a

silly blunder, and you may as well own up to it. I'd give something for a photograph of your gaping, staring

face when you pulled aside that lid expecting to see the Lady Frances Carfax and only found a poor old

Holmes's expression was as impassive as ever under the jeers of his antagonist, but his clenched hands

"Are you, though!" cried Peters as a woman's voice and heavy steps sounded in the passage. "We'll soon see

about that. This way, officers, if you please. These men have forced their way into my house, and I cannot get

A sergeant and a constable stood in the doorway. Holmes drew his card from his case.

"Bless you, sir, we know you very well," said the sergeant, "but you can't stay here without a warrant."

"We know where to lay our hands on this gentleman if he is wanted," said the sergeant majestically, "but

A minute later we were in the street once more. Holmes was as cool as ever, but I was hot with anger and

"I expect there was good reason for your presence there. If there is anything I can do "

"It's a missing lady, Sergeant, and we think she is in that house. I expect a warrant presently."

"Then I'll keep my eye on the parties, Mr. Holmes. If any thing comes along, I will surely let you know."

It was only nine o'clock, and we were off full cry upon the trail at once. First we drove to Brixton Workhouse

Infirmary, where we found that it was indeed the truth that a charitable couple had calledsome days before,

that they had claimed an imbecile old woman as a former servant, and that they had obtained permission to

take her away with them. No surprise was expressed at the news that she had since died.

The doctor was our next goal. He had been called in, had found the woman dying of pure senility, had

actually seen her pass away, and had signed the certificate in due form. "I assure you that everything was

perfectly normal and there was no room for foul play in the matter," said he. Nothing in the house had struck

him as suspicious save that for people of their class it was remarkable that they should have no servant. So far

Finally we found our way to Scotland Yard. There had been difficulties of procedure in regard to the warrant.

Some delay was inevitable. The magistrate's signature might not be obtained until next morning. If Holmes

would call about nine he could go down with Lestrade and see it acted upon. So ended the day, save that near

midnight our friend, the sergeant, called to say that he had seen flickering lights here and there in the

windows of the great dark house, but that no one had left it and none had entered. We could but pray for

Sherlock Holmes was too irritable for conversation and too restless for sleep. I left him smoking hard, with

his heavy, dark brows knotted together, and his long, nervous fingers tapping upon the arms of his chair, as

he turned over in his mind every possible solution of the mystery. Several times in the course of the night I

heard him prowling about the house. Finally, just after I had been called in the morning, he rushed into my

room. He was in his dressinggown, but his pale, holloweyed face told me that his night had been a

"What time was the funeral? Eight, was it not?" he asked eagerly. "Well, it is 7:20 now. Good heavens,

Watson, what has become of any brains that God has given me? Quick, man, quick! It's life or death a

hundred chances on death to one on life. I'll never forgive myself, never, if we are too late!"

Five minutes had not passed before we were flying in a hansom down Baker Street. But even so it was

twentyfive to eight as we passed Big Ben, and eight struck as we tore down the Brixton Road. But others

were late as well as we. Ten minutes after the hour the hearse was still standing at the door of the house, and

even as our foaming horse came to a halt the coffin, supported by three men, appeared on the threshold.

"Take it back!" he cried, laying his hand on the breast of the foremost. "Take it back this instant!"

"What the devil do you mean? Once again I ask you, where is your warrant?" shouted the furious Peters, his

"The warrant is on its way. This coffin shall remain in the house until it comes."

The authority in Holmes's voice had its effect upon the bear ers. Peters had suddenly vanished into the

house, and they obeyed these new orders. "Quick, Watson, quick! Here is a screwdriver!" he shouted as the

coffin was replaced upon the table. "Here's one for you, my man! A sovereign if the lid comes off in a

minute! Ask no questions work away! That's good! Another! And another! Now pull all together! It's

With a united effort we tore off the coffinlid. As we did so there came from the inside a stupefying and

overpowering smell of chloroform. A body lay within, its head all wreathed in cottonwool, which had been

soaked in the narcotic. Holmes plucked it off and disclosed the statuesque face of a hand some and spiritual

woman of middle age. In an instant he had passed his arm round the figure and raised her to a sitting position.

For half an hour it seemed that we were. What with actual suffocation, and what with the poisonous fumes of

the chloro form, the Lady Frances seemed to have passed the last point of recall. And then, at last, with

artificial respiration, with injected ether, with every device that science could suggest, some flutter of life,

some quiver of the eyelids, some dimming of a mirror, spoke of the slowly returning life. A cab had driven

up, and Holmes, parting the blind, looked out at it. "Here is Lestrade with his warrant," said he. "He will find

that his birds have flown. And here," he added as a heavy step hurried along the passage, "is someone who

has a better right to nurse this lady than we have. Good morning, Mr. Green; I think that the sooner we can

move the Lady Frances the better. Meanwhile, the funeral may proceed, and the poor old woman who still

"Should you care to add the case to your annals, my dear Watson," said Holmes that evening, "it can only be

as an example of that temporary eclipse to which even the bestbalanced mind may be exposed. Such slips

are common to all mortals, and the greatest is he who can recognize and repair them. To this modified credit I

may, perhaps, make some claim. My night was haunted by the thought that somewhere a clue, a strange sen

tence, a curious observation, had come under my notice and had been too easily dismissed. Then, suddenly,

in the gray of the morning, the words came back to me. It was the remark of the undertaker's wife, as reported

by Philip Green. She had said, 'It should be there before now. It took longer, being out of the ordinary.' It was

the coffin of which she spoke. It had been out of the ordinary. That could only mean that it had been made to

some special measurement. But why? Why? Then in an instant I remembered the deep sides, and the little

wasted figure at the bottom. Why so large a coffin for so small a body? To leave room for another body. Both

would be buried under the one certificate. It had all been so clear, if only my own sight had not been dimmed.

At eight the Lady Frances would be buried. Our one chance was to stop the coffin before it left the house.

"It was a desperate chance that we might find her alive, but it was a chance, as the result showed. These

people had never, to my knowledge, done a murder. They might shrink from actual violence at the last. They

could bury her with no sign of how she met her end, and even if she were exhumed there was a chance for

them. I hoped that such considerations might prevail with them. You can reconstruct the scene well enough.

You saw the horrible den upstairs, where the poor lady had been kept so long. They rushed in and

overpowered her with their chloro form, carried her down, poured more into the coffin to insure against her

waking, and then screwed down the lid. A clever device, Watson. It is new to me in the annals of crime. If

our exmissionary friends escape the clutches of Lestrade, I shall expect to hear of some brilliant incidents in

Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long suffering woman. Not only was her firstfloor

flat invaded at all hours by throngs of singular and often undesirable characters but her remarkable lodger

showed an eccentricity and irregularity in his life which must have sorely tried her patience. His incredible

untidiness, his addiction to music at strange hours, his occasional revolver practice within doors, his weird

and often malodorous scientific experiments, and the atmosphere of violence and dan ger which hung

around him made him the very worst tenant in London. On the other hand, his payments were princely. I have

no doubt that the house might have been purchased at the price which Holmes paid for his rooms during the

The landlady stood in the deepest awe of him and never dared to interfere with him, however outrageous his

proceedings might seem. She was fond of him, too, for he had a remarkable gentleness and courtesy in his

dealings with women. He disliked and distrusted the sex, but he was always a chivalrous opponent. Knowing

how genuine was her regard for him, I listened earnestly to her story when she came to my rooms in the

second year of my married life and told me of the sad condition to which my poor friend was reduced.

"He's dying, Dr. Watson," said she. "For three days he has been sinking, and I doubt if he will last the day. He

would not let me get a doctor. This morning when I saw his bones sticking out of his face and his great bright

eyes looking at me I could stand no more of it. 'With your leave or without it, Mr. Holmes, I am going for a

doctor this very hour,' said I. 'Let it be Watson, then,' said he. I wouldn't waste an hour in coming to him, sir,

I was horrified for I had heard nothing of his illness. I need not say that I rushed for my coat and my hat. As

"There is little I can tell you, sir. He has been working at a case down at Rotherhithe, in an alley near the

river, and he has brought this illness back with him. He took to his bed on Wednesday afternoon and has

never moved since. For these three days neither food nor drink has passed his lips."

"He wouldn't have it, sir. You know how masterful he is. I didn't dare to disobey him. But he's not long for

He was indeed a deplorable spectacle. In the dim light of a foggy November day the sick room was a gloomy

spot, but it was that gaunt, wasted face staring at me from the bed which sent a chill to my heart. His eyes had

the brightness of fever, there was a hectic flush upon either cheek, and dark crusts clung to his lips; the thin

hands upon the coverlet twitched incessantly, his voice was croaking and spasmodic. He lay listlessly as I

entered the room, but the sight of me brought a gleam of recognition to his eyes.

"Well, Watson, we seem to have fallen upon evil days," said he in a feeble voice, but with something of his

"Stand back! Stand right back!" said he with the sharp impe riousness which I had associated only with

moments of crisis. "If you approach me, Watson, I shall order you out of the house."

Yes, Mrs. Hudson was right. He was more masterful than ever. It was pitiful, however, to see his exhaustion.

Poor devil, how could I be angry when I saw him lying in such a plight before me?

"I know what is the matter with me. It is a coolie disease from Sumatra a thing that the Dutch know more

about than we, though they have made little of it up to date. One thing only is certain. It is infallibly deadly,

He spoke now with a feverish energy, the long hands twitch ing and jerking as he motioned me away.

"Contagious by touch, Watson that's it, by touch. Keep your distance and all is well."

"Good heavens, Holmes! Do you suppose that such a consid eration weighs with me for an instant? It would

not affect me in the case of a stranger. Do you imagine it would prevent me from doing my duty to so old a

I have so deep a respect for the extraordinary qualities of Holmes that I have always deferred to his wishes,

even when I least understood them. But now all my professional instincts were aroused. Let him be my

"Holmes," said I, "you are not yourself. A sick man is but a child, and so I will treat you. Whether you like it

"If I am to have a doctor whether I will or not, let me at least have someone in whom I have confidence," said

"In your friendship, certainly. But facts are facts, Watson, and, after all, you are only a general practitioner

with very limited experience and mediocre qualifications. It is painful to have to say these things, but you

"Such a remark is unworthy of you, Holmes. It shows me very clearly the state of your own nerves. But if

you have no confidence in me I would not intrude my services. Let me bring Sir Jasper Meek or Penrose

Fisher, or any of the best men in London. But someone you must have, and that is final. If you think that I am

going to stand here and see you die without either helping you myself or bringing anyone else to help you,

"You mean well, Watson," said the sick man with something between a sob and a groan. "Shall I demonstrate

your own ignorance? What do you know, pray, of Tapanuli fever? What do you know of the black Formosa

"There are many problems of disease, many strange patholog ical possibilities, in the East, Watson." He

paused after each sentence to collect his failing strength. "I have learned so much during some recent

researches which have a medicocriminal aspect. It was in the course of them that I contracted this

"Possibly not. But I happen to know that Dr. Ainstree, the greatest living authority upon tropical disease, is

now in London. All remonstrance is useless, Holmes, I am going this instant to fetch him." I turned resolutely

Never have I had such a shock! In an instant, with a tiger spring, the dying man had intercepted me. I heard

the sharp snap of a twisted key. The next moment he had staggered back to his bed, exhausted and panting

"You won't take the key from me by force, Watson. I've got you, my friend. Here you are, and here you will

stay until I will otherwise. But I'll humour you." (All this in little gasps, with terrible struggles for breath

between.) "You've only my own good at heart. Of course I know that very well. You shall have your way, but

give me time to get my strength. Not now, Watson, not now. It's four o'clock. At six you can go."

"Only two hours, Watson. I promise you will go at six. Are you content to wait?"

"None in the world, Watson. Thank you, I need no help in arranging the clothes. You will please keep your

distance. Now, Watson, there is one other condition that I would make. You will seek help, not from the man

"The first three sensible words that you have uttered since you entered this room, Watson. You will find some

books over there. I am somewhat exhausted; I wonder how a battery feels when it pours electricity into a

But it was destined to be resumed long before that hour, and in circumstances which gave me a shock hardly

second to that caused by his spring to the door. I had stood for some minutes looking at the silent figure in the

bed. His face was almost covered by the clothes and he appeared to be asleep. Then, unable to settle down to

reading, I walked slowly round the room, examining the pictures of celebrated criminals with which every

wall was adorned. Finally, in my aimless perambulation, I came to the mantelpiece. A litter of pipes,

tobaccopouches, syringes, penknives, revolvercartridges, and other debris was scattered over it. In the

midst of these was a small black and white ivory box with a sliding lid. It was a neat little thing, and I had

stretched out my hand to examine it more closely when It was a dreadful cry that he gave a yell which

might have been heard down the street. My skin went cold and my hair bristled at that horrible scream. As I

turned I caught a glimpse of a con vulsed face and frantic eyes. I stood paralyzed, with the little box in my

"Put it down! Down, this instant, Watson this instant, I say!" His head sank back upon the pillow and he

gave a deep sigh of relief as I replaced the box upon the mantelpiece. "I hate to have my things touched,

Watson. You know that I hate it. You fidget me beyond endurance. You, a doctor you are enough to drive

The incident left a most unpleasant impression upon my mind. The violent and causeless excitement,

followed by this brutality of speech, so far removed from his usual suavity, showed me how deep was the

disorganization of his mind. Of all ruins, that of a noble mind is the most deplorable. I sat in silent dejection

until the stipulated time had passed. He seemed to have been watching the clock as well as I, for it was hardly

"Ah, too few! Too few! How very unfortunate, Watson! However, such as they are you can put them in your

watchpocket. And all the rest of your money in your left trouserpocket. Thank you. It will balance you so

This was raving insanity. He shuddered, and again made a sound between a cough and a sob.

"You will now light the gas, Watson, but you will be very careful that not for one instant shall it be more than

half on. I implore you to be careful, Watson. Thank you, that is excellent. No, you need not draw the blind.

Now you will have the kindness to place some letters and papers upon this table within my reach. Thank you.

Now some of that litter from the mantel piece. Excellent, Watson! There is a sugartongs there. Kindly raise

that small ivory box with its assistance. Place it here among the papers. Good! You can now go and fetch Mr.

To tell the truth, my desire to fetch a doctor had somewhat weakened, for poor Holmes was so obviously

delirious that it seemed dangerous to leave him. However, he was as eager now to consult the person named

"Possibly not, my good Watson. It may surprise you to know that the man upon earth who is best versed in

this disease is not a medical man, but a planter. Mr. Culverton Smith is a well known resident of Sumatra,

now visiting London. An outbreak of the disease upon his plantation, which was distant from medical aid,

caused him to study it himself, with some rather farreaching consequences. He is a very methodical person,

and I did not desire you to start before six, because I was well aware that you would not find him in his study.

If you could persuade him to come here and give us the benefit of his unique experi ence of this disease, the

investigation of which has been his dearest hobby, I cannot doubt that he could help me."

I give Holmes's remarks as a consecutive whole and will not attempt to indicate how they were interrupted by

gaspings for breath and those clutchings of his hands which indicated the pain from which he was suffering.

His appearance had changed for the worse during the few hours that I had been with him. Those hectic spots

were more pronounced, the eyes shone more brightly out of darker hollows, and a cold sweat glimmered

upon his brow. He still retained, however, the jaunty gallantry of his speech. To the last gasp he would

"You will tell him exactly how you have left me," said he. "You will convey the very impression which is in

your own mind a dying man a dying and delirious man. Indeed, I can not think why the whole bed of

the ocean is not one solid mass of oysters, so prolific the creatures seem. Ah, I am wandering! Strange how

"Ah, yes, I remember. My life depends upon it. Plead with him, Watson. There is no good feeling between us.

His nephew, Watson I had suspicions of foul play and I allowed him to see it. The boy died horribly. He

has a grudge against me. You will soften him, Watson. Beg him, pray him, get him here by any means. He

"You will do nothing of the sort. You will persuade him to come. And then you will return in front of him.

Make any excuse so as not to come with him. Don't forget, Watson. You won't fail me. You never did fail

me. No doubt there are natural enemies which limit the increase of the creatures. You and I, Watson, we have

done our part. Shall the world, then, be overrun by oysters? No, no; horrible! You'll convey all that is in your

I left him full of the image of this magnificent intellect bab bling like a foolish child. He had handed me the

key, and with a happy thought I took it with me lest he should lock himself in. Mrs. Hudson was waiting,

trembling and weeping, in the pas sage. Behind me as I passed from the flat I heard Holmes's high, thin

voice in some delirious chant. Below, as I stood whistling for a cab, a man came on me through the fog.

It was an old acquaintance, Inspector Morton, of Scotland Yard, dressed in unofficial tweeds.

He looked at me in a most singular fashion. Had it not been too fiendish, I could have imagined that the

Lower Burke Street proved to be a line of fine houses lying in the vague borderland between Notting Hill and

Kensington. The particular one at which my cabman pulled up had an air of smug and demure respectability

in its oldfashioned iron railings, its massive foldingdoor, and its shining brasswork. All was in keeping

with a solemn butler who appeared framed in the pink radiance of a tinted electric light behind him.

"Yes, Mr. Culverton Smith is in. Dr. Watson! Very good, sir, I will take up your card."

My humble name and title did not appear to impress Mr. Culverton Smith. Through the halfopen door I

"Who is this person? What does he want? Dear me, Staples, how often have I said that I am not to be

"Well, I won't see him, Staples. I can't have my work inter rupted like this. I am not at home. Say so. Tell

"Well, well, give him that message. He can come in the morning, or he can stay away. My work must not be

I thought of Holmes tossing upon his bed of sickness and counting the minutes, perhaps, until I could bring

help to him. It was not a time to stand upon ceremony. His life depended upon my promptness. Before the

apologetic butler had delivered his message I had pushed past him and was in the room.

With a shrill cry of anger a man rose from a reclining chair beside the fire. I saw a great yellow face,

coarsegrained and greasy, with heavy, doublechin, and two sullen, menacing gray eyes which glared at me

from under tufted and sandy brows. A high bald head had a small velvet smokingcap poised coquett ishly

upon one side of its pink curve. The skull was of enormous capacity, and yet as I looked down I saw to my

amazement that the figure of the man was small and frail, twisted in the shoul ders and back like one who

"What's this?" he cried in a high, screaming voice. "What is the meaning of this intrusion? Didn't I send you

The mention of my friend's name had an extraordinary effect upon the little man. The look of anger passed in

The man motioned me to a chair, and turned to resume his own. As he did so I caught a glimpse of his face in

the mirror over the mantelpiece. I could have sworn that it was set in a malicious and abominable smile. Yet I

persuaded myself that it must have been some nervous contraction which I had surprised, for he turned to me

"I am sorry to hear this," said he. "I only know Mr. Holmes through some business dealings which we have

had, but I have every respect for his talents and his character. He is an amateur of crime, as I am of disease.

For him the villain, for me the microbe. There are my prisons," he continued, pointing to a row of bottles and

jars which stood upon a side table. "Among those gelatine cultivations some of the very worst offenders in

"It was on account of your special knowledge that Mr. Holmes desired to see you. He has a high opinion of

"Why?" he asked. "Why should Mr. Holmes think that I could help him in his trouble?"

"Because, in some professional inquiry, he has been working among Chinese sailors down in the docks."

"Oh, that's it is it?" said he. "I trust the matter is not so grave as you suppose. How long has he been ill?"

"Tut, tut! This sounds serious. It would be inhuman not to answer his call. I very much resent any interruption

to my work, Dr. Watson, but this case is certainly exceptional. I will come with you at once."

"Very good. I will go alone. I have a note of Mr. Holmes's address. You can rely upon my being there within

It was with a sinking heart that I reentered Holmes's bedroom. For all that I knew the worst might have

happened in my absence. To my enormous relief, he had improved greatly in the interval. His appearance was

as ghastly as ever, but all trace of delirium had left him and he spoke in a feeble voice, it is true, but with

"That would never do, Watson. That would be obviously impossible. Did he ask what ailed me?"

"Exactly! Well, Watson, you have done all that a good friend could. You can now disappear from the scene."

"Of course you must. But I have reasons to suppose that this opinion would be very much more frank and

valuable if he imagines that we are alone. There is just room behind the head of my bed, Watson."

"I fear there is no alternative, Watson. The room does not lend itself to concealment, which is as well, as it is

the less likely to arouse suspicion. But just there, Watson, I fancy that it could be done." Suddenly he sat up

with a rigid intentness upon his haggard face. "There are the wheels, Watson. Quick, man, if you love me!

And don't budge, whatever happens whatever happens, do you hear? Don't speak! Don't move! Just listen

with all your ears." Then in an instant his sudden access of strength departed, and his masterful, purposeful

From the hidingplace into which I had been so swiftly hustled I heard the footfalls upon the stair, with the

opening and the closing of the bedroom door. Then, to my surprise, there came a long silence, broken only by

the heavy breathings and gaspings of the sick man. I could imagine that our visitor was standing by the

"Holmes!" he cried. "Holmes!" in the insistent tone of one who awakens a sleeper. "Can't you hear me,

Holmes?" There was a rustling, as if he had shaken the sick man roughly by the shoulder.

"Is that you, Mr. Smith?" Holmes whispered. "I hardly dared hope that you would come."

"I should imagine not," he said. "And yet, you see, I am here. Coals of fire, Holmes coals of fire!"

"It is very good of you very noble of you. I appreciate your special knowledge."

"You do. You are, fortunately, the only man in London who does. Do you know what is the matter with you?"

"Well, I shouldn't be surprised, Holmes. I shouldn't be sur prised if it were the same. A bad lookout for you

if it is. Poor Victor was a dead man on the fourth day a strong, hearty young fellow. It was certainly, as

you said, very surprising that he should have contracted an outoftheway Asiatic disease in the heart of

London a disease, too, of which I had made such a very special study. Singular coincidence, Holmes.

Very smart of you to notice it, but rather uncharitable to suggest that it was cause and effect."

"Oh, you did, did you? Well, you couldn't prove it, anyhow. But what do you think of yourself spreading

reports about me like that, and then crawling to me for help the moment you are in trouble? What sort of a

I heard the rasping, laboured breathing of the sick man. "Give me the water!" he gasped.

"You're precious near your end, my friend, but I don't want you to go till I have had a word with you. That's

why I give you water. There, don't slop it about! That's right. Can you under stand what I say?"

"Do what you can for me. Let bygones be bygones," he whispered. "I'll put the words out of my head I

"Well, about Victor Savage's death. You as good as admitted just now that you had done it. I'll forget it."

"You can forget it or remember it, just as you like. I don't see you in the witnessbox. Quite another shaped

box, my good Holmes, I assure you. It matters nothing to me that you should know how my nephew died. It's

"The fellow who came for me I've forgotten his name said that you contracted it down in the East End

"You are proud of your brains, Holmes, are you not? Think yourself smart, don't you? You came across

someone who was smarter this time. Now cast your mind back, Holmes. Can you think of no other way you

"Yes, I will help you. I'll help you to understand just where you are and how you got there. I'd like you to

"Painful, is it? Yes, the coolies used to do some squealing towards the end. Takes you as cramp, I fancy."

"Well, you can hear what I say, anyhow. Listen now! Can you remember any unusual incident in your life

"Listen, Holmes!" There was a sound as if he was shaking the dying man, and it was all that I could do to

hold myself quiet in my hidingplace. "You must hear me. You shall hear me. Do you remember a box an

"It was no joke, as you will find to your cost. You fool, you would have it and you have got it. Who asked

"I remember," Holmes gasped. "The spring! It drew blood. This box this on the table."

"The very one, by George! And it may as well leave the room in my pocket. There goes your last shred of

evidence. But you have the truth now, Holmes, and you can die with the knowledge that I killed you. You

knew too much of the fate of Victor Savage, so I have sent you to share it. You are very near your end,

"What is that?" said Smith. "Turn up the gas? Ah, the shadows begin to fall, do they? Yes, I will turn it up,

that I may see you the better." He crossed the room and the light suddenly brightened. "Is there any other

I nearly called out in my joy and my amazement. He was speaking in his natural voice a little weak,

perhaps, but the very voice I knew. There was a long pause, and I felt that Culverton Smith was standing in

"The best way of successfully acting a part is to be it," said Holmes. "I give you my word that for three days I

have tasted neither food nor drink until you were good enough to pour me out that glass of water. But it is the

tobacco which I find most irksome. Ah, here are some cigarettes." I heard the striking of a match. "That is

"And you might add of the attempted murder of one Sherlock Holmes," remarked my friend with a chuckle.

"To save an invalid trouble, Inspector, Mr. Culverton Smith was good enough to give our signal by turning

up the gas. By the way, the prisoner has a small box in the righthand pocket of his coat which it would be as

well to remove. Thank you. I would handle it gingerly if I were you. Put it down here. It may play its part in

There was a sudden rush and a scuffle, followed by the clash of iron and a cry of pain.

"You'll only get yourself hurt," said the inspector. "Stand still, will you?" There was the click of the closing

"A nice trap!" cried the high, snarling voice. "It will bring you into the dock, Holmes, not me. He asked me to

come here to cure him. I was sorry for him and I came. Now he will pretend, no doubt, that I have said

anything which he may invent which will corroborate his insane suspicions. You can lie as you like, Holmes.

"Good heavens!" cried Holmes. "I had totally forgotten him. My dear Watson, I owe you a thousand

apologies. To think that I should have overlooked you! I need not introduce you to Mr. Culverton Smith,

since I understand that you met somewhat earlier in the evening. Have you the cab below? I will follow you

"I never needed it more," said Holmes as he refreshed himself with a glass of claret and some biscuits in the

intervals of his toilet. "However, as you know, my habits are irregular, and such a feat means less to me than

to most men. It was very essential that I should impress Mrs. Hudson with the reality of my condition, since

she was to convey it to you, and you in turn to him. You won't be offended, Watson? You will realize that

among your many talents dissimulation finds no place, and that if you had shared my secret you would never

have been able to impress Smith with the urgent necessity of his presence, which was the vital point of the

whole scheme. Knowing his vindictive nature, I was perfectly certain that he would come to look upon his

"Three days of absolute fast does not improve one's beauty, Watson. For the rest, there is nothing which a

sponge may not cure. With vaseline upon one's forehead, belladonna in one's eyes, rouge over the

cheekbones, and crusts of beeswax round one's lips, a very satisfying effect can be produced. Malingering is

a subject upon which I have sometimes thought of writing a monograph. A little occasional talk about

halfcrowns, oysters, or any other extraneous subject produces a pleasing effect of delirium."

"Can you ask, my dear Watson? Do you imagine that I have no respect for your medical talents? Could I

fancy that your astute judgment would pass a dying man who, however weak, had no rise of pulse or

temperature? At four yards, I could deceive you. If I failed to do so, who would bring my Smith within my

grasp? No, Watson, I would not touch that box. You can just see if you look at it sideways where the sharp

spring like a viper's tooth emerges as you open it. I dare say it was by some such device that poor Savage,

who stood between this monster and a reversion, was done to death. My correspon dence, however, is, as

you know, a varied one, and I am somewhat upon my guard against any packages which reach me. It was

clear to me, however, that by pretending that he had really succeeded in his design I might surprise a con

fession. That pretence I have carried out with the thoroughness of the true artist. Thank you, Watson, you

must help me on with my coat. When we have finished at the policestation I think that something nutritious

It was nine o'clock at night upon the second of August the most terrible August in the history of the world.

One might have thought already that God's curse hung heavy over a degenerate world, for there was an

awesome hush and a feeling of vague expectancy in the sultry and stagnant air. The sun had long set, but one

bloodred gash like an open wound lay low in the distant west. Above, the stars were shining brightly, and

below, the lights of the shipping glimmered in the bay. The two famous Germans stood beside the stone

parapet of the garden walk, with the long, low, heavily gabled house behind them, and they looked down

upon the broad sweep of the beach at the foot of the great chalk cliff on which Von Bork, like some

wandering eagle, had perched himself four years before. They stood with their heads close together, talking in

low, confidential tones. From below the two glowing ends of their cigars might have been the smouldering

A remarkable man this Von Bork a man who could hardly be matched among all the devoted agents of the

Kaiser. It was his talents which had first recommended him for the English mission, the most important

mission of all, but since he had taken it over those talents had become more and more manifest to the

halfdozen people in the world who were really in touch with the truth. One of these was his present

companion, Baron Von Herling, the chief secretary of the legation, whose huge lOOhorsepower Benz car

"So far as I can judge the trend of events, you will probably be back in Berlin within the week," the secretary

was saying. "When you get there, my dear Von Bork, I think you will be surprised at the welcome you will

receive. I happen to know what is thought in the highest quarters of your work in this country." He was a

huge man, the secretary, deep, broad, and tall, with a slow, heavy fashion of speech which had been his main

"They are not very hard to deceive," he remarked. "A more docile, simple folk could not be imagined."

"I don't know about that," said the other thoughtfully. "They have strange limits and one must learn to

observe them. It is that surface simplicity of theirs which makes a trap for the stranger. One's first impression

is that they are entirely soft. Then one comes suddenly upon something very hard, and you know that you

have reached the limit and must adapt yourself to the fact. They have, for example, their insular conventions

"Meaning, 'good form' and that sort of thing?" Von Bork sighed as one who had suffered much.

"Meaning British prejudice in all its queer manifestations. As an example I may quote one of my own worst

blunders I can afford to talk of my blunders, for you know my work well enough to be aware of my

successes. It was on my first arrival. I was invited to a weekend gathering at the country house of a cabinet

"Exactly. Well, I naturally sent a resume of the information to Berlin. Unfortunately our good chancellor is a

little heavyhanded in these matters, and he transmitted a remark which showed that he was aware of what

had been said. This, of course, took the trail straight up to me. You've no idea the harm that it did me. There

was nothing soft about our British hosts on that occasion, I can assure you. I was two years living it down.

"No, no, don't call it a pose. A pose is an artificial thing. This is quite natural. I am a born sportsman. I enjoy

"Well, that makes it the more effective. You yacht against them, you hunt with them, you play polo, you

match them in every game, your fourin hand takes the prize at Olympia. I have even heard that you go the

length of boxing with the young officers. What is the result? Nobody takes you seriously. You are a 'good old

sport,' 'quite a decent fellow for a German,' a harddrinking, nightclub, knockabouttown,

devilmaycare young fellow. And all the time this quiet country house of yours is the centre of half the

mischief in England, and the sporting squire the most astute secretservice man in Europe. Genius, my dear

"You flatter me, Baron. But certainly I may claim that my four years in this country have not been

unproductive. I've never shown you my little store. Would you mind stepping in for a moment?"

The door of the study opened straight on to the terrace. Von Bork pushed it back, and, leading the way, he

clicked the switch of the electric light. He then closed the door behind the bulky form which followed him

and carefully adjusted the heavy curtain over the latticed window. Only when all these precautions had been

"Some of my papers have gone," said he. "When my wife and the household left yesterday for Flushing they

took the less important with them. I must, of course, claim the protection of the embassy for the others."

"Your name has already been filed as one of the personal suite. There will be no difficulties for you or your

baggage. Of course, it is just possible that we may not have to go. England may leave France to her fate. We

Von Bork shook his head. "I don't see how that could be. There is a definite treaty there. She could never

"Tut, my dear sir, we live in a utilitarian age. Honour is a mediaeval conception. Besides England is not

ready. It is an inconceivable thing, but even our special war tax of fifty million, which one would think made

our purpose as clear as if we had advertised it on the front page of the Times, has not roused these people

from their slumbers. Here and there one hears a question. It is my business to find an answer. Here and there

also there is an irritation. It is my business to soothe it. But I can assure you that so far as the essentials go

the storage of munitions, the preparation for submarine attack, the arrangements for making high explosives

nothing is prepared. How, then, can England come in, especially when we have stirred her up such a

devil's brew of Irish civil war, windowbreaking Furies, and God knows what to keep her thoughts at home."

"Ah, that is another matter. I fancy that in the future we have our own very definite plans about England, and

that your information will be very vital to us. It is today or tomorrow with Mr. John Bull. If he prefers

today we are perfectly ready. If it is tomorrow we shall be more ready still. I should think they would be

wiser to fight with allies than without them, but that is their own affair. This week is their week of destiny.

But you were speaking of your papers." He sat in the armchair with the light shining upon his broad bald

The large oakpanelled, booklined room had a curtain hung in the further corner. When this was drawn it

disclosed a large, brassbound safe. Von Bork detached a small key from his watch chain, and after some

The light shone vividly into the opened safe, and the secretary of the embassy gazed with an absorbed interest

at the rows of stuffed pigeonholes with which it was furnished. Each pigeonhole had its label, and his eyes

as he glanced along them read a long series of such titles as "Fords," "Harbour defences," "Aeroplanes,"

"Ireland," "Egypt," "Portsmouth forts," "The Channel," "Rosythe," and a score of others. Each compartment

"Colossal!" said the secretary. Putting down his cigar he softly clapped his fat hands.

"And all in four years, Baron. Not such a bad show for the harddrinking, hardriding country squire. But the

gem of my collection is coming and there is the setting all ready for it." He pointed to a space over which

"Out of date and waste paper. The Admiralty in some way got the alarm and every code has been changed. It

was a blow, Baron the worst setback in my whole campaign. But thanks to my checkbook and the good

The Baron looked at his watch and gave a guttural exclamation of disappointment.

"Well, I really can wait no longer. You can imagine that things are moving at present in Carlton Terrace and

that we have all to be at our posts. I had hoped to be able to bring news of your great coup. Did Altamont

"You see he poses as a motor expert and I keep a full garage. In our code everything likely to come up is

named after some spare part. If he talks of a radiator it is a battleship, of an oil pump a cruiser, and so on.

"From Portsmouth at midday," said the secretary, examining the superscription. "By the way, what do you

"Five hundred pounds for this particular job. Of course he has a salary as well."

"The greedy rogue. They are useful, these traitors, but I grudge them their blood money."

"I grudge Altamont nothing. He is a wonderful worker. If I pay him well, at least he delivers the goods, to use

his own phrase. Besides he is not a traitor. I assure you that our most panGermanic Junker is a sucking dove

"If you heard him talk you would not doubt it. Sometimes I assure you I can hardly understand him. He

seems to have declared war on the King's English as well as on the English king. Must you really go? He may

"No. I'm sorry, but I have already overstayed my time. We shall expect you early tomorrow, and when you

get that signal book through the little door on the Duke of York's steps you can put a triumphant finis to your

He indicated a heavily sealed dustcovered bottle which stood with two high glasses upon a salver.

"Altamont has a nice taste in wines, and he took a fancy to my Tokay. He is a touchy fellow and needs

humouring in small things. I have to study him, I assure you." They had strolled out on to the terrace again,

and along it to the further end where at a touch from the Baron's chauffeur the great car shivered and

chuckled. "Those are the lights of Harwich, I suppose," said the secretary, pulling on his dust coat. "How still

and peaceful it all seems. There may be other lights within the week, and the English coast a less tranquil

place! The heavens, too, may not be quite so peaceful if all that the good Zeppelin promises us comes true.

Only one window showed a light behind them; in it there stood a lamp, and beside it, seated at a table, was a

dear old ruddyfaced woman in a country cap. She was bending over her knitting and stopping occasionally

"She might almost personify Britannia," said he, "with her complete self absorption and general air of

comfortable somnolence. Well, au revoir, Von Bork!" With a final wave of his hand he sprang into the car,

and a moment later the two golden cones from the headlights shot forward through the darkness. The

secretary lay back in the cushions of the luxurious limousine, with his thoughts so full of the impending

European tragedy that he hardly observed that as his car swung round the village street it nearly passed over a

Von Bork walked slowly back to the study when the last gleams of the motor lamps had faded into the

distance. As he passed he observed that his old housekeeper had put out her lamp and retired. It was a new

experience to him, the silence and darkness of his widespread house, for his family and household had been a

large one. It was a relief to him, however, to think that they were all in safety and that, but for that one old

woman who had lingered in the kitchen, he had the whole place to himself. There was a good deal of tidying

up to do inside his study and he set himself to do it until his keen, handsome face was flushed with the heat of

the burning papers. A leather valise stood beside his table, and into this he began to pack very neatly and

systematically the precious contents of his safe. He had hardly got started with the work, however, when his

quick ears caught the sound of a distant car. Instantly he gave an exclamation of satisfaction, strapped up the

valise, shut the safe, locked it, and hurried out on to the terrace. He was just in time to see the lights of a

small car come to a halt at the gate. A passenger sprang out of it and advanced swiftly towards him, while the

chauffeur, a heavily built, elderly man with a gray moustache, settled down like one who resigns himself to a

"You can give me the glad hand tonight, mister," he cried. "I'm bringing home the bacon at last."

"Same as I said in my cable. Every last one of them, semaphore, lamp code, Marconi a copy, mind you,

not the original. That was too dangerous. But it's the real goods, and you can lay to that." He slapped the

"Come in," he said. "I'm all alone in the house. I was only waiting for this. Of course a copy is better than the

original. If an original were missing they would change the whole thing. You think it's all safe about the

The IrishAmerican had entered the study and stretched his long limbs from the armchair. He was a tall,

gaunt man of sixty, with clearcut features and a small goatee beard which gave him a general resemblance

to the caricatures of Uncle Sam. A halfsmoked, sodden cigar hung from the corner of his mouth, and as he sat

down he struck a match and relit it. "Making ready for a move?" he remarked as he looked round him. "Say,

mister," he added, as his eyes fell upon the safe from which the curtain was now removed, "you don't tell me

"Gosh, in a wideopen contraption like that! And they reckon you to be some spy. Why, a Yankee crook

would be into that with a can opener. If I'd known that any letter of mine was goin' to lie loose in a thing

"It would puzzle any crook to force that safe," Von Bork answered. "You won't cut that metal with any tool."

"Well, you need a word as well as a set of figures before you can get the lock to work." He rose and showed a

doubleradiating disc round the keyhole. "This outer one is for the letters, thel inner one for the figures."

"So it's not quite as simple as you thought. It was four years ago that I had it made, and what do you think I

"Yes, a few of us even then could have guessed the date. Here it is, and I'm shutting down tomorrow

"Well, I guess you'll have to fix me up also. I'm not staying in this gol darned country all on my lonesome.

In a week or less, from what I see, John Bull will be on his hind legs and fair ramping. I'd rather watch him

"Well, so was Jack James an American citizen, but he's doing time in Portland all the same. It cuts no ice

with a British copper to tell him you're an American citizen. 'It's British law and order over here,' says he. By

the way, mister, talking of Jack James, it seems to me you don't do much to cover your men."

"Well, you are their employer, ain't you? It's up to you to see that they don't fall down. But they do fall down,

"It was James's own fault. You know that yourself. He was too selfwilled for the job."

"Well, he went a bit woozy towards the end. It's enough to make a man bughouse when he has to play a part

from morning to night with a hundred guys all ready to set the coppers wise to him. But now there is Steiner

"Well, they've got him, that's all. They raided his store last night, and he and his papers are all in Portsmouth

jail. You'll go off and he, poor devil, will have to stand the racket, and lucky if he gets off with his life. That's

Von Bork was a strong, selfcontained man, but it was easy to see that the news had shaken him.

"How could they have got on to Steiner?" he muttered. "That's the worst blow yet."

"Sure thing. My landlady down Fratton way had some inquiries, and when I heard of it I guessed it was time

for me to hustle. But what I want to know, mister, is how the coppers know these things? Steiner is the fifth

man you've lost since I signed on with you, and I know the name of the sixth if I don't get a move on. How do

"If I didn't dare things, mister, I wouldn't be in your service. But I'll tell you straight what is in my mind. I've

heard that with you German politicians when an agent has done his work you are not sorry to see him put

"I don't stand for that, mister, but there's a stool pigeon or a cross somewhere, and it's up to you to find out

where it is. Anyhow I am taking no more chances. It's me for little Holland, and the sooner the better."

"We have been allies too long to quarrel now at the very hour of victory," he said. "You've done splendid

work and taken risks, and I can't forget it. By all means go to Holland, and you can get a boat from Rotterdam

to New York. No other line will be safe a week from now. I'll take that book and pack it with the rest."

The American held the small parcel in his hand, but made no motion to give it up.

"The boodle. The reward. The 500 pounds. The gunner turned damned nasty at the last, and I had to square

him with an extra hundred dollars or it would have been nitsky for you and me. 'Nothin' doin'!' says he, and

he meant it, too, but the last hundred did it. It's cost me two hundred pound from first to last, so it isn't likely

Von Bork smiled with some bitterness. "You don't seem to have a very high opinion of my honour," said he,

"All right. Have your way." He sat down at the table and scribbled a check, which he tore from the book, but

he refrained from handing it to his companion. "After all, since we are to be on such terms, Mr. Altamont,"

said he, "I don't see why I should trust you any more than you trust me. Do you understand?" he added,

looking back over his shoulder at the American. "There's the check upon the table. I claim the right to

The American passed it over without a word. Von Bork undid a winding of string and two wrappers of paper.

Then he sat gazing for a moment in silent amazement at a small blue book which lay before him. Across the

cover was printed in golden letters Practical Handbook of Bee Culture. Only for one instant did the master

spy glare at this strangely irrelevant inscription. The next he was gripped at the back of his neck by a grasp of

"Another glass, Watson!" said Mr. Sherlock Holmes as he extended the bottle of Imperial Tokay.

The thickset chauffeur, who had seated himself by the table pushed forward his glass with some eagerness.

"A remarkable wine, Watson. Our friend upon the sofa has assured me that it is from Franz Josef's special

cellar at the Schoenbrunn Palace. Might I trouble you to open the window for chloroform vapour does not

The safe was ajar, and Holmes standing in front of it was removing dossier after dossier, swiftly examining

each, and then packing it neatly in Von Bork's valise. The German lay upon the sofa sleeping stertorously

with a strap round his upper arms and another round his legs. "We need not hurry ourselves, Watson. We are

safe from interruption. Would you mind touching the bell? There is no one in the house except old Martha,

who has played her part to admiration. I got her the situation here when first I took the matter up. Ah, Martha,

The pleasant old lady had appeared in the doorway. She curtseyed with a smile to Mr. Holmes, but glanced

"I am glad of that, Mr. Holmes. According to his lights he has been a kind master. He wanted me to go with

his wife to Germany yesterday, but that would hardly have suited your plans, would it, sir?"

"No, indeed, Martha. So long as you were here I was easy in my mind. We waited some time for your signal

"I thought he would never go. I knew that it would not suit your plans, sir, to find him here."

"No, indeed. Well, it only meant that we waited half an hour or so until I saw your lamp go out and knew that

the coast was clear. You can report to me tomorrow in London, Martha, at Claridge's Hotel."

"Very good, Martha. I will look into them tomorrow. Good night. These papers," he continued as the old

lady vanished, "are not of very great imponance, for, of course, the information which they represent has

been sent off long ago to the German government. These are the originals which could not safely be got out

"I should not go so far as to say that, Watson. They will at least show our people what is known and what is

not. I may say that a good many of these papers have come tbrough me, and I need not add are thoroughly

untrustworthy. It would brighten my declining years to see a German cruiser navigating the Solent according

to the minefield plans which I have furnished. But you, Watson" he stopped his work and took his old

friend by the shoulders "I've hardly seen you in the light yet. How have the years used you? You look the

"I feel twenty years younger, Holmes. I have seldom felt so happy as when I got your wire asking me to meet

you at Harwich with the car. But you, Holmes you have changed very little save for that horrible

"These are the sacrifices one makes for one's country, Watson," said Holmes, pulling at his little tuft.

"Tomorrow it will be but a dreadful memory. With my hair cut and a few other superficial changes I shall

no doubt reappear at Claridge's tomorrow as I was before this American stunt I beg your pardon, Watson,

my well of English seems to be permanently defiled before this American job came my way."

"But you have retired, Holmes. We heard of you as living the life of a hermit among your bees and your

"Exactly, Watson. Here is the fruit of my leisured ease, the magnum opus of my latter years!" He picked up

the volume from the table and read out the whole title, Practical Handbook of Bee Culture, with Some

Observations upon the Segregation of the Queen. "Alone I did it. Behold the fruit of pensive nights and

laborious days when I watched the little working gangs as once I watched the criminal world of London."

"Ah, I have often marvelled at it myself. The Foreign Minister alone I could have withstood, but when the

Premier also deigned to visit my humble roof! The fact is, Watson, that this gentleman upon the sofa was a

bit too good for our people. He was in a class by himself. Things were going wrong, and no one could

understand why they were going wrong. Agents were suspected or even caught, but there was evidence of

some strong and secret central force. It was absolutely necessary to expose it. Strong pressure was brought

upon me to look into the matter. It has cost me two years, Watson, but they have not been devoid of

excitement. When I say that I started my pilgrimage at Chicago, graduated in an Irish secret society at

Buffalo, gave serious trouble to the constabulary at Skibbareen, and so eventually caught the eye of a

subordinate agent of Von Bork, who recommended me as a likely man, you will realize that the matter was

complex. Since then I have been honoured by his confidence, which has not prevented most of his plans

going subtly wrong and five of his best agents being in prison. I watched them, Watson, and I picked them as

The last remark was addressed to Von Bork himself, who after much gasping and blinking had lain quietly

listening to Holmes's statement. He broke out now into a furious stream of German invective, his face

convulsed with passion. Holmes continued his swift investigation of documents while his prisoner cursed and

"Though unmusical, German is the most expressive of all languages," he observed when Von Bork had

stopped from pure exhaustion. "Hullo! Hullo!" he added as he looked hard at the corner of a tracing before

putting it in the box. "This should put another bird in the cage. I had no idea that the paymaster was such a

rascal, though I have long had an eye upon him. Mister Von Bork, you have a great deal to answer for."

The prisoner had raised himself with some difficulty upon the sofa and was staring with a strange mixture of

amazement and hatred at his captor. I shall get level with you, Altamont," he said, speaking with slow

"The old sweet song," said Holmes. "How often have I heard it in days gone by. It was a favourite ditty of the

late lamented Professor Moriarty. Colonel Sebastian Moran has also been known to warble it. And yet I live

"Curse you, you double traitor!" cried the German, straining against his bonds and glaring murder from his

"No, no, it is not so bad as that," said Holmes, smiling. "As my speech surely shows you, Mr. Altamont af

"It is really immaterial who I am, but since the matter seems to interest you, Mr. Von Bork, I may say that

this is not my first acquaintance with the members of your family. I have done a good deal of business in

"It was I who brought about the separation between Irene Adler and the late King of Bohemia when yorur

cousin Heinrich was the Imperial Envoy. It was I also who saved from murder, by the Nihilist Klopman,

Von Bork groaned and sank back on the sofa. "And most of that information came through you," he cried.

"It is certainly a little untrustworthy," said Holmes. "It will require some checking and you have little time to

check it. Your admiral may find the new guns rather larger than he expects, and the cruisers perhaps a trifle

"There are a good many other points of defail which will, no doubt, come to light in good time. But youl have

one quality which is very rare in a German, Mr. Von Bork: you are a sportsman and you will bear me no

illwill when you realize that you, who have outwitted so many other people, have at last been outwitted

yourself. After all, you have done vour best for your country, and I have done my best for mine, and what

could be more natural? Besides," he added, not unkindly, as he laid his hand upon the shoulder of the

prostrate man, "it is better than to fall before some more ignoble foe. These papers are now ready. Watson. If

you will help me with our prisoner, I think that we may get started for London at once."

It was no easy task to move Von Bork, for he was a strong and a desperate man. Finally, holding either arm,

the two friends walked him very slowly down the garden walk which he had trod with such proud confidence

when he received the congratulations of the famous diplomatist only a few hours before. After a short, final

struggle he was hoisted, still bound hand and foot, into the spare seat of the little car. His precious valise was

"I trust that you are as comfortable as circumstances permit," said Holmes when the final arrangements were

made. "Should I be guilty of a liberty if I lit a cigar and placed it between your lips?"

"I suppose you realize, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said he, "that if your government bears you out in this

"What about your government and all this treatment?" said Holmes, tapping the valise.

"You are a private individual. You have no warrant for my arrest. The whole proceeding is absolutely illegal

"Well, you realize your position, you and your accomplice here. If I were to shout for help as we pass through

"My dear sir, if you did anything so foolish you would probably enlarge the two limited titles of our village

inns by giving us 'The Dangling Prussian' as a signpost. The Englishman is a patient creature, but at present

his temper is a little inflamed, and it would be as well not to try him too far. No, Mr. Von Bork, you will go

with us in a quiet, sensible fashion to Scotland Yard, whence you can send for your friend, Baron Von

Herling, and see if even now you may not fill that place which he has reserved for you in the ambassadorial

suite. As to you, Watson, you are joining us with your old service, as I understand, so London won't be out of

your way. Stand with me here upon the terrace, for it may be the last quiet talk that we shall ever have."

The two friends chatted in intimate converse for a few minutes, recalling once again the days of the past,

while their prisoner vainly wriggled to undo the bonds that held him. As they turned to the car Holmes

"Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There's an east wind coming all the same,

such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson and a good many of us may

wither before its blast. But it's God's own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in

the sunshine when the storm has cleared. Start her up, Watson, for it's time that we were on our way. I have a

check for five hundred pounds which should be cashed early, for the drawer is quite capable of stopping it if