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THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES...................................................................................................1

BY ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE .............................................................................................................1

Watson, you and I will drive together to the Russian Embassy."..............................................................144

IT was in the spring of the year 1894 that all London was interested, and the fashionable world dismayed, by

the murder of the Honourable Ronald Adair under most unusual and inexplicable circumstances. The public

has already learned those particulars of the crime which came out in the police investigation; but a good deal

was suppressed upon that occasion, since the case for the prosecution was so overwhelmingly strong that it

was not necessary to bring forward all the facts. Only now, at the end of nearly ten years, am I allowed to

supply those missing links which make up the whole of that remarkable chain. The crime was of interest in

itself, but that interest was as nothing to me compared to the inconceivable sequel, which afforded me the

greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life. Even now, after this long interval, I find

myself thrilling as I think of it, and feeling once more that sudden flood of joy, amazement, and incredulity

which utterly submerged my mind. Let me say to that public which has shown some interest in those

glimpses which I have occasionally given them of the thoughts and actions of a very remarkable man that

they are not to blame me if I have not shared my knowledge with them, for I should have considered it my

first duty to have done so had I not been barred by a positive prohibition from his own lips, which was only

It can be imagined that my close intimacy with Sherlock Holmes had interested me deeply in crime, and that

after his disappearance I never failed to read with care the various problems which came before the public,

and I even attempted more than once for my own private satisfaction to employ his methods in their solution,

though with indifferent success. There was none, however, which appealed to me like this tragedy of Ronald

Adair. As I read the evidence at the inquest, which led up to a verdict of wilful murder against some person or

persons unknown, I realized more clearly than I had ever done the loss which the community had sustained

by the death of Sherlock Holmes. There were points about this strange business which would, I was sure,

have specially appealed to him, and the efforts of the police would have been supplemented, or more

probably anticipated, by the trained observation and the alert mind of the first criminal agent in Europe. All

day as I drove upon my round I turned over the case in my mind, and found no explanation which appeared to

me to be adequate. At the risk of telling a twicetold tale I will recapitulate the facts as they were known to

The Honourable Ronald Adair was the second son of the Earl of Maynooth, at that time Governor of one of

the Australian Colonies. Adair's mother had returned from Australia to undergo the operation for cataract,

and she, her son Ronald, and her daughter Hilda were living together at 427, Park Lane. The youth moved in

the best society, had, so far as was known, no enemies, and no particular vices. He had been engaged to Miss

Edith Woodley, of Carstairs, but the engagement had been broken off by mutual consent some months before,

and there was no sign that it had left any very profound feeling behind it. For the rest the man's life moved in

a narrow and conventional circle, for his habits were quiet and his nature unemotional. Yet it was upon this

easygoing young aristocrat that death came in most strange and unexpected form between the hours of ten

Ronald Adair was fond of cards, playing continually, but never for such stakes as would hurt him. He was a

member of the Baldwin, the Cavendish, and the Bagatelle card clubs. It was shown that after dinner on the

day of his death he had played a rubber of whist at the latter club. He had also played there in the afternoon.

The evidence of those who had played with him Mr. Murray, Sir John Hardy, and Colonel Moran

showed that the game was whist, and that there was a fairly equal fall of the cards. Adair might have lost five

pounds, but not more. His fortune was a considerable one, and such a loss could not in any way affect him.

He had played nearly every day at one club or other, but he was a cautious player, and usually rose a winner.

It came out in evidence that in partnership with Colonel Moran he had actually won as much as four hundred

and twenty pounds in a sitting some weeks before from Godfrey Milner and Lord Balmoral. So much for his

On the evening of the crime he returned from the club exactly at ten. His mother and sister were out spending

the evening with a relation. The servant deposed that she heard him enter the front room on the second floor,

generally used as his sittingroom. She had lit a fire there, and as it smoked she had opened the window. No

sound was heard from the room until eleventwenty, the hour of the return of Lady Maynooth and her

daughter. Desiring to say goodnight, she had attempted to enter her son's room. The door was locked on the

inside, and no answer could be got to their cries and knocking. Help was obtained and the door forced. The

unfortunate young man was found lying near the table. His head had been horribly mutilated by an expanding

revolver bullet, but no weapon of any sort was to be found in the room. On the table lay two banknotes for

ten pounds each and seventeen pounds ten in silver and gold, the money arranged in little piles of varying

amount. There were some figures also upon a sheet of paper with the names of some club friends opposite to

them, from which it was conjectured that before his death he was endeavouring to make out his losses or

A minute examination of the circumstances served only to make the case more complex. In the first place, no

reason could be given why the young man should have fastened the door upon the inside. There was the

possibility that the murderer had done this and had afterwards escaped by the window. The drop was at least

twenty feet, however, and a bed of crocuses in full bloom lay beneath. Neither the flowers nor the earth

showed any sign of having been disturbed, nor were there any marks upon the narrow strip of grass which

separated the house from the road. Apparently, therefore, it was the young man himself who had fastened the

door. But how did he come by his death? No one could have climbed up to the window without leaving

traces. Suppose a man had fired through the window, it would indeed be a remarkable shot who could with a

revolver inflict so deadly a wound. Again, Park Lane is a frequented thoroughfare, and there is a cabstand

within a hundred yards of the house. No one had heard a shot. And yet there was the dead man, and there the

revolver bullet, which had mushroomed out, as softnosed bullets will, and so inflicted a wound which must

have caused instantaneous death. Such were the circumstances of the Park Lane Mystery, which were further

complicated by entire absence of motive, since, as I have said, young Adair was not known to have any

enemy, and no attempt had been made to remove the money or valuables in the room.

All day I turned these facts over in my mind, endeavouring to hit upon some theory which could reconcile

them all, and to find that line of least resistance which my poor friend had declared to be the startingpoint of

every investigation. I confess that I made little progress. In the evening I strolled across the Park, and found

myself about six o'clock at the Oxford Street end of Park Lane. A group of loafers upon the pavements, all

staring up at a particular window, directed me to the house which I had come to see. A tall, thin man with

coloured glasses, whom I strongly suspected of being a plainclothes detective, was pointing out some theory

of his own, while the others crowded round to listen to what he said. I got as near him as I could, but his

observations seemed to me to be absurd, so I withdrew again in some disgust. As I did so I struck against an

elderly deformed man, who had been behind me, and I knocked down several books which he was carrying. I

remember that as I picked them up I observed the title of one of them, "The Origin of Tree Worship," and it

struck me that the fellow must be some poor bibliophile who, either as a trade or as a hobby, was a collector

of obscure volumes. I endeavoured to apologize for the accident, but it was evident that these books which I

had so unfortunately maltreated were very precious objects in the eyes of their owner. With a snarl of

contempt he turned upon his heel, and I saw his curved back and white sidewhiskers disappear among the

My observations of No. 427, Park Lane did little to clear up the problem in which I was interested. The house

was separated from the street by a low wall and railing, the whole not more than five feet high. It was

perfectly easy, therefore, for anyone to get into the garden, but the window was entirely inaccessible, since

there was no waterpipe or anything which could help the most active man to climb it. More puzzled than

ever I retraced my steps to Kensington. I had not been in my study five minutes when the maid entered to say

that a person desired to see me. To my astonishment it was none other than my strange old bookcollector,

his sharp, wizened face peering out from a frame of white hair, and his precious volumes, a dozen of them at

"Well, I've a conscience, sir, and when I chanced to see you go into this house, as I came hobbling after you, I

thought to myself, I'll just step in and see that kind gentleman, and tell him that if I was a bit gruff in my

manner there was not any harm meant, and that I am much obliged to him for picking up my books."

"Well, sir, if it isn't too great a liberty, I am a neighbour of yours, for you'll find my little bookshop at the

corner of Church Street, and very happy to see you, I am sure. Maybe you collect yourself, sir; here's `British

Birds,' and `Catullus,' and `The Holy War' a bargain every one of them. With five volumes you could just

I moved my head to look at the cabinet behind me. When I turned again Sherlock Holmes was standing

smiling at me across my study table. I rose to my feet, stared at him for some seconds in utter amazement,

and then it appears that I must have fainted for the first and the last time in my life. Certainly a grey mist

swirled before my eyes, and when it cleared I found my collarends undone and the tingling aftertaste of

"My dear Watson," said the wellremembered voice, "I owe you a thousand apologies. I had no idea that you

"Holmes!" I cried. "Is it really you? Can it indeed be that you are alive? Is it possible that you succeeded in

"Wait a moment," said he. "Are you sure that you are really fit to discuss things? I have given you a serious

"I am all right, but indeed, Holmes, I can hardly believe my eyes. Good heavens, to think that you you of

all men should be standing in my study!" Again I gripped him by the sleeve and felt the thin, sinewy arm

beneath it. "Well, you're not a spirit, anyhow," said I. "My dear chap, I am overjoyed to see you. Sit down

He sat opposite to me and lit a cigarette in his old nonchalant manner. He was dressed in the seedy

frockcoat of the book merchant, but the rest of that individual lay in a pile of white hair and old books upon

the table. Holmes looked even thinner and keener than of old, but there was a deadwhite tinge in his

"I am glad to stretch myself, Watson," said he. "It is no joke when a tall man has to take a foot off his stature

for several hours on end. Now, my dear fellow, in the matter of these explanations we have, if I may ask for

your cooperation, a hard and dangerous night's work in front of us. Perhaps it would be better if I gave you

"This is indeed like the old days. We shall have time for a mouthful of dinner before we need go. Well, then,

about that chasm. I had no serious difficulty in getting out of it, for the very simple reason that I never was in

"No, Watson, I never was in it. My note to you was absolutely genuine. I had little doubt that I had come to

the end of my career when I perceived the somewhat sinister figure of the late Professor Moriarty standing

upon the narrow pathway which led to safety. I read an inexorable purpose in his grey eyes. I exchanged

some remarks with him, therefore, and obtained his courteous permission to write the short note which you

afterwards received. I left it with my cigarettebox and my stick and I walked along the pathway, Moriarty

still at my heels. When I reached the end I stood at bay. He drew no weapon, but he rushed at me and threw

his long arms around me. He knew that his own game was up, and was only anxious to revenge himself upon

me. We tottered together upon the brink of the fall. I have some knowledge, however, of baritsu, or the

Japanese system of wrestling, which has more than once been very useful to me. I slipped through his grip,

and he with a horrible scream kicked madly for a few seconds and clawed the air with both his hands. But for

all his efforts he could not get his balance, and over he went. With my face over the brink I saw him fall for a

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

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

"It came about in this way. The instant that the Professor had disappeared it struck me what a really

extraordinarily lucky chance Fate had placed in my way. I knew that Moriarty was not the only man who had

sworn my death. There were at least three others whose desire for vengeance upon me would only be

increased by the death of their leader. They were all most dangerous men. One or other would certainly get

me. On the other hand, if all the world was convinced that I was dead they would take liberties, these men,

they would lay themselves open, and sooner or later I could destroy them. Then it would be time for me to

announce that I was still in the land of the living. So rapidly does the brain act that I believe I had thought this

all out before Professor Moriarty had reached the bottom of the Reichenbach Fall.

"I stood up and examined the rocky wall behind me. In your picturesque account of the matter, which I read

with great interest some months later, you assert that the wall was sheer. This was not literally true. A few

small footholds presented themselves, and there was some indication of a ledge. The cliff is so high that to

climb it all was an obvious impossibility, and it was equally impossible to make my way along the wet path

without leaving some tracks. I might, it is true, have reversed my boots, as I have done on similar occasions,

but the sight of three sets of tracks in one direction would certainly have suggested a deception. On the

whole, then, it was best that I should risk the climb. It was not a pleasant business, Watson. The fall roared

beneath me. I am not a fanciful person, but I give you my word that I seemed to hear Moriarty's voice

screaming at me out of the abyss. A mistake would have been fatal. More than once, as tufts of grass came

out in my hand or my foot slipped in the wet notches of the rock, I thought that I was gone. But I struggled

upwards, and at last I reached a ledge several feet deep and covered with soft green moss, where I could lie

unseen in the most perfect comfort. There I was stretched when you, my dear Watson, and all your following

were investigating in the most sympathetic and inefficient manner the circumstances of my death.

"At last, when you had all formed your inevitable and totally erroneous conclusions, you departed for the

hotel and I was left alone. I had imagined that I had reached the end of my adventures, but a very unexpected

occurrence showed me that there were surprises still in store for me. A huge rock, falling from above,

boomed past me, struck the path, and bounded over into the chasm. For an instant I thought that it was an

accident; but a moment later, looking up, I saw a man's head against the darkening sky, and another stone

struck the very ledge upon which I was stretched, within a foot of my head. Of course, the meaning of this

was obvious. Moriarty had not been alone. A confederate and even that one glance had told me how

dangerous a man that confederate was had kept guard while the Professor had attacked me. From a

distance, unseen by me, he had been a witness of his friend's death and of my escape. He had waited, and

then, making his way round to the top of the cliff, he had endeavoured to succeed where his comrade had

"I did not take long to think about it, Watson. Again I saw that grim face look over the cliff, and I knew that it

was the precursor of another stone. I scrambled down on to the path. I don't think I could have done it in cold

blood. It was a hundred times more difficult than getting up. But I had no time to think of the danger, for

another stone sang past me as I hung by my hands from the edge of the ledge. Halfway down I slipped, but by

the blessing of God I landed, torn and bleeding, upon the path. I took to my heels, did ten miles over the

mountains in the darkness, and a week later I found myself in Florence with the certainty that no one in the

"I had only one confidant my brother Mycroft. I owe you many apologies, my dear Watson, but it was

allimportant that it should be thought I was dead, and it is quite certain that you would not have written so

convincing an account of my unhappy end had you not yourself thought that it was true. Several times during

the last three years I have taken up my pen to write to you, but always I feared lest your affectionate regard

for me should tempt you to some indiscretion which would betray my secret. For that reason I turned away

from you this evening when you upset my books, for I was in danger at the time, and any show of surprise

and emotion upon your part might have drawn attention to my identity and led to the most deplorable and

irreparable results. As to Mycroft, I had to confide in him in order to obtain the money which I needed. The

course of events in London did not run so well as I had hoped, for the trial of the Moriarty gang left two of its

most dangerous members, my own most vindictive enemies, at liberty. I travelled for two years in Tibet,

therefore, and amused myself by visiting Lhassa and spending some days with the head Llama. You may

have read of the remarkable explorations of a Norwegian named Sigerson, but I am sure that it never occurred

to you that you were receiving news of your friend. I then passed through Persia, looked in at Mecca, and

paid a short but interesting visit to the Khalifa at Khartoum, the results of which I have communicated to the

Foreign Office. Returning to France I spent some months in a research into the coaltar derivatives, which I

conducted in a laboratory at Montpelier, in the South of France. Having concluded this to my satisfaction,

and learning that only one of my enemies was now left in London, I was about to return when my movements

were hastened by the news of this very remarkable Park Lane Mystery, which not only appealed to me by its

own merits, but which seemed to offer some most peculiar personal opportunities. I came over at once to

London, called in my own person at Baker Street, threw Mrs. Hudson into violent hysterics, and found that

Mycroft had preserved my rooms and my papers exactly as they had always been. So it was, my dear Watson,

that at two o'clock today I found myself in my old armchair in my own old room, and only wishing that I

could have seen my old friend Watson in the other chair which he has so often adorned."

Such was the remarkable narrative to which I listened on that April evening a narrative which would have

been utterly incredible to me had it not been confirmed by the actual sight of the tall, spare figure and the

keen, eager face, which I had never thought to see again. In some manner he had learned of my own sad

bereavement, and his sympathy was shown in his manner rather than in his words. "Work is the best antidote

to sorrow, my dear Watson," said he, "and I have a piece of work for us both tonight which, if we can bring

it to a successful conclusion, will in itself justify a man's life on this planet." In vain I begged him to tell me

more. "You will hear and see enough before morning," he answered. "We have three years of the past to

discuss. Let that suffice until halfpast nine, when we start upon the notable adventure of the empty house."

It was indeed like old times when, at that hour, I found myself seated beside him in a hansom, my revolver in

my pocket and the thrill of adventure in my heart. Holmes was cold and stern and silent. As the gleam of the

streetlamps flashed upon his austere features I saw that his brows were drawn down in thought and his thin

lips compressed. I knew not what wild beast we were about to hunt down in the dark jungle of criminal

London, but I was well assured from the bearing of this master huntsman that the adventure was a most grave

one, while the sardonic smile which occasionally broke through his ascetic gloom boded little good for the

I had imagined that we were bound for Baker Street, but Holmes stopped the cab at the corner of Cavendish

Square. I observed that as he stepped out he gave a most searching glance to right and left, and at every

subsequent street corner he took the utmost pains to assure that he was not followed. Our route was certainly

a singular one. Holmes's knowledge of the byways of London was extraordinary, and on this occasion he

passed rapidly, and with an assured step, through a network of mews and stables the very existence of which I

had never known. We emerged at last into a small road, lined with old, gloomy houses, which led us into

Manchester Street, and so to Blandford Street. Here he turned swiftly down a narrow passage, passed through

a wooden gate into a deserted yard, and then opened with a key the back door of a house. We entered together

The place was pitchdark, but it was evident to me that it was an empty house. Our feet creaked and crackled

over the bare planking, and my outstretched hand touched a wall from which the paper was hanging in

ribbons. Holmes's cold, thin fingers closed round my wrist and led me forwards down a long hall, until I

dimly saw the murky fanlight over the door. Here Holmes turned suddenly to the right, and we found

ourselves in a large, square, empty room, heavily shadowed in the corners, but faintly lit in the centre from

the lights of the street beyond. There was no lamp near and the window was thick with dust, so that we could

only just discern each other's figures within. My companion put his hand upon my shoulder and his lips close

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

"Because it commands so excellent a view of that picturesque pile. Might I trouble you, my dear Watson, to

draw a little nearer to the window, taking every precaution not to show yourself, and then to look up at our

old rooms the startingpoint of so many of our little adventures? We will see if my three years of absence

I crept forward and looked across at the familiar window. As my eyes fell upon it I gave a gasp and a cry of

amazement. The blind was down and a strong light was burning in the room. The shadow of a man who was

seated in a chair within was thrown in hard, black outline upon the luminous screen of the window. There

was no mistaking the poise of the head, the squareness of the shoulders, the sharpness of the features. The

face was turned halfround, and the effect was that of one of those black silhouettes which our grandparents

loved to frame. It was a perfect reproduction of Holmes. So amazed was I that I threw out my hand to make

sure that the man himself was standing beside me. He was quivering with silent laughter.

"I trust that age doth not wither nor custom stale my infinite variety,'" said he, and I recognised in his voice

the joy and pride which the artist takes in his own creation. "It really is rather like me, is it not?"

"The credit of the execution is due to Monsieur Oscar Meunier, of Grenoble, who spent some days in doing

the moulding. It is a bust in wax. The rest I arranged myself during my visit to Baker Street this afternoon."

"Because, my dear Watson, I had the strongest possible reason for wishing certain people to think that I was

"By my old enemies, Watson. By the charming society whose leader lies in the Reichenbach Fall. You must

remember that they knew, and only they knew, that I was still alive. Sooner or later they believed that I

should come back to my rooms. They watched them continuously, and this morning they saw me arrive."

"Because I recognised their sentinel when I glanced out of my window. He is a harmless enough fellow,

Parker by name, a garroter by trade, and a remarkable performer upon the Jew's harp. I cared nothing for him.

But I cared a great deal for the much more formidable person who was behind him, the bosom friend of

Moriarty, the man who dropped the rocks over the cliff, the most cunning and dangerous criminal in London.

That is the man who is after me tonight, Watson, and that is the man who is quite unaware that we are after

My friend's plans were gradually revealing themselves. From this convenient retreat the watchers were being

watched and the trackers tracked. That angular shadow up yonder was the bait and we were the hunters. In

silence we stood together in the darkness and watched the hurrying figures who passed and repassed in front

of us. Holmes was silent and motionless; but I could tell that he was keenly alert, and that his eyes were fixed

intently upon the stream of passersby. It was a bleak and boisterous night, and the wind whistled shrilly

down the long street. Many people were moving to and fro, most of them muffled in their coats and cravats.

Once or twice it seemed to me that I had seen the same figure before, and I especially noticed two men who

appeared to be sheltering themselves from the wind in the doorway of a house some distance up the street. I

tried to draw my companion's attention to them, but he gave a little ejaculation of impatience and continued

to stare into the street. More than once he fidgeted with his feet and tapped rapidly with his fingers upon the

wall. It was evident to me that he was becoming uneasy and that his plans were not working out altogether as

he had hoped. At last, as midnight approached and the street gradually cleared, he paced up and down the

room in uncontrollable agitation. I was about to make some remark to him when I raised my eyes to the

lighted window and again experienced almost as great a surprise as before. I clutched Holmes's arm and

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

Three years had certainly not smoothed the asperities of his temper or his impatience with a less active

"Of course it has moved," said he. "Am I such a farcical bungler, Watson, that I should erect an obvious

dummy and expect that some of the sharpest men in Europe would be deceived by it? We have been in this

room two hours, and Mrs. Hudson has made some change in that figure eight times, or once in every quarter

of an hour. She works it from the front so that her shadow may never be seen. Ah!" He drew in his breath

with a shrill, excited intake. In the dim light I saw his head thrown forward, his whole attitude rigid with

attention. Outside, the street was absolutely deserted. Those two men might still be crouching in the doorway,

but I could no longer see them. All was still and dark, save only that brilliant yellow screen in front of us with

the black figure outlined upon its centre. Again in the utter silence I heard that thin, sibilant note which spoke

of intense suppressed excitement. An instant later he pulled me back into the blackest corner of the room, and

I felt his warning hand upon my lips. The fingers which clutched me were quivering. Never had I known my

friend more moved, and yet the dark street still stretched lonely and motionless before us.

But suddenly I was aware of that which his keener senses had already distinguished. A low, stealthy sound

came to my ears, not from the direction of Baker Street, but from the back of the very house in which we lay

concealed. A door opened and shut. An instant later steps crept down the passage steps which were meant

to be silent, but which reverberated harshly through the empty house. Holmes crouched back against the wall

and I did the same, my hand closing upon the handle of my revolver. Peering through the gloom, I saw the

vague outline of a man, a shade blacker than the blackness of the open door. He stood for an instant, and then

he crept forward, crouching, menacing, into the room. He was within three yards of us, this sinister figure,

and I had braced myself to meet his spring, before I realized that he had no idea of our presence. He passed

close beside us, stole over to the window, and very softly and noiselessly raised it for half a foot. As he sank

to the level of this opening the light of the street, no longer dimmed by the dusty glass, fell full upon his face.

The man seemed to be beside himself with excitement. His two eyes shone like stars and his features were

working convulsively. He was an elderly man, with a thin, projecting nose, a high, bald forehead, and a huge

grizzled moustache. An operahat was pushed to the back of his head, and an evening dress shirtfront

gleamed out through his open overcoat. His face was gaunt and swarthy, scored with deep, savage lines. In

his hand he carried what appeared to be a stick, but as he laid it down upon the floor it gave a metallic clang.

Then from the pocket of his overcoat he drew a bulky object, and he busied himself in some task which ended

with a loud, sharp click, as if a spring or bolt had fallen into its place. Still kneeling upon the floor he bent

forward and threw all his weight and strength upon some lever, with the result that there came a long,

whirling, grinding noise, ending once more in a powerful click. He straightened himself then, and I saw that

what he held in his hand was a sort of gun, with a curiously misshapen butt. He opened it at the breech, put

something in, and snapped the breechblock. Then, crouching down, he rested the end of the barrel upon the

ledge of the open window, and I saw his long moustache droop over the stock and his eye gleam as it peered

along the sights. I heard a little sigh of satisfaction as he cuddled the butt into his shoulder, and saw that

amazing target, the black man on the yellow ground, standing clear at the end of his fore sight. For an instant

he was rigid and motionless. Then his finger tightened on the trigger. There was a strange, loud whiz and a

long, silvery tinkle of broken glass. At that instant Holmes sprang like a tiger on to the marksman's back and

hurled him flat upon his face. He was up again in a moment, and with convulsive strength he seized Holmes

by the throat; but I struck him on the head with the butt of my revolver and he dropped again upon the floor. I

fell upon him, and as I held him my comrade blew a shrill call upon a whistle. There was the clatter of

running feet upon the pavement, and two policemen in uniform, with one plainclothes detective, rushed

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

"I think you want a little unofficial help. Three undetected murders in one year won't do, Lestrade. But you

handled the Molesey Mystery with less than your usual that's to say, you handled it fairly well."

We had all risen to our feet, our prisoner breathing hard, with a stalwart constable on each side of him.

Already a few loiterers had begun to collect in the street. Holmes stepped up to the window, closed it, and

dropped the blinds. Lestrade had produced two candles and the policemen had uncovered their lanterns. I was

It was a tremendously virile and yet sinister face which was turned towards us. With the brow of a

philosopher above and the jaw of a sensualist below, the man must have started with great capacities for good

or for evil. But one could not look upon his cruel blue eyes, with their drooping, cynical lids, or upon the

fierce, aggressive nose and the threatening, deeplined brow, without reading Nature's plainest

dangersignals. He took no heed of any of us, but his eyes were fixed upon Holmes's face with an expression

in which hatred and amazement were equally blended. "You fiend!" he kept on muttering. "You clever, clever

"Ah, Colonel!" said Holmes, arranging his rumpled collar; "`journeys end in lovers' meetings,' as the old play

says. I don't think I have had the pleasure of seeing you since you favoured me with those attentions as I lay

The Colonel still stared at my friend like a man in a trance. "You cunning, cunning fiend!" was all that he

"I have not introduced you yet," said Holmes. "This, gentlemen, is Colonel Sebastian Moran, once of Her

Majesty's Indian Army, and the best heavy game shot that our Eastern Empire has ever produced. I believe I

am correct, Colonel, in saying that your bag of tigers still remains unrivalled?"

The fierce old man said nothing, but still glared at my companion; with his savage eyes and bristling

"I wonder that my very simple stratagem could deceive so old a shikari," said Holmes. "It must be very

familiar to you. Have you not tethered a young kid under a tree, lain above it with your rifle, and waited for

the bait to bring up your tiger? This empty house is my tree and you are my tiger. You have possibly had

other guns in reserve in case there should be several tigers, or in the unlikely supposition of your own aim

failing you. These," he pointed around, "are my other guns. The parallel is exact."

Colonel Moran sprang forward, with a snarl of rage, but the constables dragged him back. The fury upon his

"I confess that you had one small surprise for me," said Holmes. "I did not anticipate that you would yourself

make use of this empty house and this convenient front window. I had imagined you as operating from the

street, where my friend Lestrade and his merry men were awaiting you. With that exception all has gone as I

"You may or may not have just cause for arresting me," said he, "but at least there can be no reason why I

should submit to the gibes of this person. If I am in the hands of the law let things be done in a legal way."

"Well, that's reasonable enough," said Lestrade. "Nothing further you have to say, Mr. Holmes, before we

Holmes had picked up the powerful airgun from the floor and was examining its mechanism.

"An admirable and unique weapon," said he, "noiseless and of tremendous power. I knew Von Herder, the

blind German mechanic, who constructed it to the order of the late Professor Moriarty. For years I have been

aware of its existence, though I have never before had the opportunity of handling it. I commend it very

"You can trust us to look after that, Mr. Holmes," said Lestrade, as the whole party moved towards the door.

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

"Not so, Lestrade. I do not propose to appear in the matter at all. To you, and to you only, belongs the credit

of the remarkable arrest which you have effected. Yes, Lestrade, I congratulate you! With your usual happy

"The man that the whole force has been seeking in vain Colonel Sebastian Moran, who shot the

Honourable Ronald Adair with an expanding bullet from an airgun through the open window of the

secondfloor front of No. 427, Park Lane, upon the 30th of last month. That's the charge, Lestrade. And now,

Watson, if you can endure the draught from a broken window, I think that half an hour in my study over a

Our old chambers had been left unchanged through the supervision of Mycroft Holmes and the immediate

care of Mrs. Hudson. As I entered I saw, it is true, an unwonted tidiness, but the old landmarks were all in

their place. There were the chemical corner and the acidstained, dealtopped table. There upon a shelf was

the row of formidable scrapbooks and books of reference which many of our fellowcitizens would have

been so glad to burn. The diagrams, the violincase, and the piperack even the Persian slipper which

contained the tobacco all met my eyes as I glanced round me. There were two occupants of the room

one Mrs. Hudson, who beamed upon us both as we entered; the other the strange dummy which had played so

important a part in the evening's adventures. It was a waxcoloured model of my friend, so admirably done

that it was a perfect facsimile. It stood on a small pedestal table with an old dressinggown of Holmes's so

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

"Yes, sir. I'm afraid it has spoilt your beautiful bust, for it passed right through the head and flattened itself on

Holmes held it out to me. "A soft revolver bullet, as you perceive, Watson. There's genius in that, for who

would expect to find such a thing fired from an airgun. All right, Mrs. Hudson, I am much obliged for your

assistance. And now, Watson, let me see you in your old seat once more, for there are several points which I

He had thrown off the seedy frockcoat, and now he was the Holmes of old in the mousecoloured

"The old shikari's nerves have not lost their steadiness nor his eyes their keenness," said he, with a laugh, as

"Plumb in the middle of the back of the head and smack through the brain. He was the best shot in India, and

"Well, well, such is fame! But, then, if I remember aright, you had not heard the name of Professor James

Moriarty, who had one of the great brains of the century. Just give me down my index of biographies from

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

"My collection of M's is a fine one," said he. "Moriarty himself is enough to make any letter illustrious, and

here is Morgan the poisoner, and Merridew of abominable memory, and Mathews, who knocked out my left

canine in the waitingroom at Charing Cross, and, finally, here is our friend of tonight."

"MORAN, SEBASTIAN, COLONEL. Unemployed. Formerly 1st Bengalore Pioneers. Born London, 1840.

Son of Sir Augustus Moran, C.B., once British Minister to Persia. Educated Eton and Oxford. Served in

Jowaki Campaign, Afghan Campaign, Charasiab (despatches), Sherpur, and Cabul. Author of `Heavy Game

of the Western Himalayas,' 1881; `Three Months in the Jungle,' 1884. Address: Conduit Street. Clubs: The

On the margin was written, in Holmes's precise hand: "The second most dangerous man in London."

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

"It is true," Holmes answered. "Up to a certain point he did well. He was always a man of iron nerve, and the

story is still told in India how he crawled down a drain after a wounded maneating tiger. There are some

trees, Watson, which grow to a certain height and then suddenly develop some unsightly eccentricity. You

will see it often in humans. I have a theory that the individual represents in his development the whole

procession of his ancestors, and that such a sudden turn to good or evil stands for some strong influence

which came into the line of his pedigree. The person becomes, as it were, the epitome of the history of his

"Well, I don't insist upon it. Whatever the cause, Colonel Moran began to go wrong. Without any open

scandal he still made India too hot to hold him. He retired, came to London, and again acquired an evil name.

It was at this time that he was sought out by Professor Moriarty, to whom for a time he was chief of the staff.

Moriarty supplied him liberally with money and used him only in one or two very highclass jobs which no

ordinary criminal could have undertaken. You may have some recollection of the death of Mrs. Stewart, of

Lauder, in 1887. Not? Well, I am sure Moran was at the bottom of it; but nothing could be proved. So

cleverly was the Colonel concealed that even when the Moriarty gang was broken up we could not

incriminate him. You remember at that date, when I called upon you in your rooms, how I put up the shutters

for fear of airguns? No doubt you thought me fanciful. I knew exactly what I was doing, for I knew of the

existence of this remarkable gun, and I knew also that one of the best shots in the world would be behind it.

When we were in Switzerland he followed us with Moriarty, and it was undoubtedly he who gave me that

"You may think that I read the papers with some attention during my sojourn in France, on the lookout for

any chance of laying him by the heels. So long as he was free in London my life would really not have been

worth living. Night and day the shadow would have been over me, and sooner or later his chance must have

come. What could I do? I could not shoot him at sight, or I should myself be in the dock. There was no use

appealing to a magistrate. They cannot interfere on the strength of what would appear to them to be a wild

suspicion. So I could do nothing. But I watched the criminal news, knowing that sooner or later I should get

him. Then came the death of this Ronald Adair. My chance had come at last! Knowing what I did, was it not

certain that Colonel Moran had done it? He had played cards with the lad; he had followed him home from

the club; he had shot him through the open window. There was not a doubt of it. The bullets alone are enough

to put his head in a noose. I came over at once. I was seen by the sentinel, who would, I knew, direct the

Colonel's attention to my presence. He could not fail to connect my sudden return with his crime and to be

terribly alarmed. I was sure that he would make an attempt to get me out of the way AT ONCE, and would

bring round his murderous weapon for that purpose. I left him an excellent mark in the window, and, having

warned the police that they might be needed by the way, Watson, you spotted their presence in that

doorway with unerring accuracy I took up what seemed to me to be a judicious post for observation, never

dreaming that he would choose the same spot for his attack. Now, my dear Watson, does anything remain for

"Yes," said I. "You have not made it clear what was Colonel Moran's motive in murdering the Honourable

"Ah! my dear Watson, there we come into those realms of conjecture where the most logical mind may be at

fault. Each may form his own hypothesis upon the present evidence, and yours is as likely to be correct as

"I think that it is not difficult to explain the facts. It came out in evidence that Colonel Moran and young

Adair had between them won a considerable amount of money. Now, Moran undoubtedly played foul of

that I have long been aware. I believe that on the day of the murder Adair had discovered that Moran was

cheating. Very likely he had spoken to him privately, and had threatened to expose him unless he voluntarily

resigned his membership of the club and promised not to play cards again. It is unlikely that a youngster like

Adair would at once make a hideous scandal by exposing a wellknown man so much older than himself.

Probably he acted as I suggest. The exclusion from his clubs would mean ruin to Moran, who lived by his

illgotten card gains. He therefore murdered Adair, who at the time was endeavouring to work out how much

money he should himself return, since he could not profit by his partner's foul play. He locked the door lest

the ladies should surprise him and insist upon knowing what he was doing with these names and coins. Will it

"It will be verified or disproved at the trial. Meanwhile, come what may, Colonel Moran will trouble us no

more, the famous airgun of Von Herder will embellish the Scotland Yard Museum, and once again Mr.

Sherlock Holmes is free to devote his life to examining those interesting little problems which the complex

"FROM the point of view of the criminal expert," said Mr. Sherlock Holmes, "London has become a

singularly uninteresting city since the death of the late lamented Professor Moriarty."

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

"Well, well, I must not be selfish," said he, with a smile, as he pushed back his chair from the

breakfasttable. "The community is certainly the gainer, and no one the loser, save the poor outofwork

specialist, whose occupation has gone. With that man in the field one's morning paper presented infinite

possibilities. Often it was only the smallest trace, Watson, the faintest indication, and yet it was enough to tell

me that the great malignant brain was there, as the gentlest tremors of the edges of the web remind one of the

foul spider which lurks in the centre. Petty thefts, wanton assaults, purposeless outrage to the man who

held the clue all could be worked into one connected whole. To the scientific student of the higher criminal

world no capital in Europe offered the advantages which London then possessed. But now " He

shrugged his shoulders in humorous deprecation of the state of things which he had himself done so much to

At the time of which I speak Holmes had been back for some months, and I, at his request, had sold my

practice and returned to share the old quarters in Baker Street. A young doctor, named Verner, had purchased

my small Kensington practice, and given with astonishingly little demur the highest price that I ventured to

ask an incident which only explained itself some years later when I found that Verner was a distant

Our months of partnership had not been so uneventful as he had stated, for I find, on looking over my notes,

that this period includes the case of the papers of ExPresident Murillo, and also the shocking affair of the

Dutch steamship FRIESLAND, which so nearly cost us both our lives. His cold and proud nature was always

averse, however, to anything in the shape of public applause, and he bound me in the most stringent terms to

say no further word of himself, his methods, or his successes a prohibition which, as I have explained, has

Mr. Sherlock Holmes was leaning back in his chair after his whimsical protest, and was unfolding his

morning paper in a leisurely fashion, when our attention was arrested by a tremendous ring at the bell,

followed immediately by a hollow drumming sound, as if someone were beating on the outer door with his

fist. As it opened there came a tumultuous rush into the hall, rapid feet clattered up the stair, and an instant

later a wildeyed and frantic young man, pale, dishevelled, and palpitating, burst into the room. He looked

from one to the other of us, and under our gaze of inquiry he became conscious that some apology was

"I'm sorry, Mr. Holmes," he cried. "You mustn't blame me. I am nearly mad. Mr. Holmes, I am the unhappy

He made the announcement as if the name alone would explain both his visit and its manner; but I could see

"Have a cigarette, Mr. McFarlane," said he, pushing his case across. "I am sure that with your symptoms my

friend Dr. Watson here would prescribe a sedative. The weather has been so very warm these last few days.

Now, if you feel a little more composed, I should be glad if you would sit down in that chair and tell us very

slowly and quietly who you are and what it is that you want. You mentioned your name as if I should

recognise it, but I assure you that, beyond the obvious facts that you are a bachelor, a solicitor, a Freemason,

Familiar as I was with my friend's methods, it was not difficult for me to follow his deductions, and to

observe the untidiness of attire, the sheaf of legal papers, the watchcharm, and the breathing which had

"Yes, I am all that, Mr. Holmes, and in addition I am the most unfortunate man at this moment in London.

For Heaven's sake don't abandon me, Mr. Holmes! If they come to arrest me before I have finished my story,

make them give me time so that I may tell you the whole truth. I could go to gaol happy if I knew that you

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

My companion's expressive face showed a sympathy which was not, I am afraid, entirely unmixed with

"Dear me," said he; "it was only this moment at breakfast that I was saying to my friend, Dr. Watson, that

Our visitor stretched forward a quivering hand and picked up the DAILY TELEGRAPH, which still lay upon

"If you had looked at it, sir, you would have seen at a glance what the errand is on which I have come to you

this morning. I feel as if my name and my misfortune must be in every man's mouth." He turned it over to

expose the central page. "Here it is, and with your permission I will read it to you. Listen to this, Mr. Holmes.

The headlines are: `Mysterious Affair at Lower Norwood. Disappearance of a Wellknown Builder.

Suspicion of Murder and Arson. A Clue to the Criminal.' That is the clue which they are already following,

Mr. Holmes, and I know that it leads infallibly to me. I have been followed from London Bridge Station, and

I am sure that they are only waiting for the warrant to arrest me. It will break my mother's heart it will

break her heart!" He wrung his hands in an agony of apprehension, and swayed backwards and forwards in

I looked with interest upon this man, who was accused of being the perpetrator of a crime of violence. He

was flaxenhaired and handsome in a washedout negative fashion, with frightened blue eyes and a

cleanshaven face, with a weak, sensitive mouth. His age may have been about twentyseven; his dress and

bearing that of a gentleman. From the pocket of his light summer overcoat protruded the bundle of endorsed

"We must use what time we have," said Holmes. "Watson, would you have the kindness to take the paper and

Underneath the vigorous headlines which our client had quoted I read the following suggestive

Late last night, or early this morning, an incident occurred at Lower Norwood which points, it is feared, to a

serious crime. Mr. Jonas Oldacre is a wellknown resident of that suburb, where he has carried on his

business as a builder for many years. Mr. Oldacre is a bachelor, fiftytwo years of age, and lives in Deep

Dene House, at the Sydenham end of the road of that name. He has had the reputation of being a man of

eccentric habits, secretive and retiring. For some years he has practically withdrawn from the business, in

which he is said to have amassed considerable wealth. A small timberyard still exists, however, at the back

of the house, and last night, about twelve o'clock, an alarm was given that one of the stacks was on fire. The

engines were soon upon the spot, but the dry wood burned with great fury, and it was impossible to arrest the

conflagration until the stack had been entirely consumed. Up to this point the incident bore the appearance of

an ordinary accident, but fresh indications seem to point to serious crime. Surprise was expressed at the

absence of the master of the establishment from the scene of the fire, and an inquiry followed, which showed

that he had disappeared from the house. An examination of his room revealed that the bed had not been slept

in, that a safe which stood in it was open, that a number of important papers were scattered about the room,

and, finally, that there were signs of a murderous struggle, slight traces of blood being found within the room,

and an oaken walkingstick, which also showed stains of blood upon the handle. It is known that Mr. Jonas

Oldacre had received a late visitor in his bedroom upon that night, and the stick found has been identified as

the property of this person, who is a young London solicitor named John Hector McFarlane, junior partner of

Graham and McFarlane, of 426, Gresham Buildings, E.C. The police believe that they have evidence in their

possession which supplies a very convincing motive for the crime, and altogether it cannot be doubted that

LATER. It is rumoured as we go to press that Mr. John Hector McFarlane has actually been arrested on

the charge of the murder of Mr. Jonas Oldacre. It is at least certain that a warrant has been issued. There have

been further and sinister developments in the investigation at Norwood. Besides the signs of a struggle in the

room of the unfortunate builder it is now known that the French windows of his bedroom (which is on the

ground floor) were found to be open, that there were marks as if some bulky object had been dragged across

to the woodpile, and, finally, it is asserted that charred remains have been found among the charcoal ashes

of the fire. The police theory is that a most sensational crime has been committed, that the victim was clubbed

to death in his own bedroom, his papers rifled, and his dead body dragged across to the woodstack, which

was then ignited so as to hide all traces of the crime. The conduct of the criminal investigation has been left

in the experienced hands of Inspector Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, who is following up the clues with his

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

"The case has certainly some points of interest," said he, in his languid fashion. "May I ask, in the first place,

Mr. McFarlane, how it is that you are still at liberty, since there appears to be enough evidence to justify your

"I live at Torrington Lodge, Blackheath, with my parents, Mr. Holmes; but last night, having to do business

very late with Mr. Jonas Oldacre, I stayed at an hotel in Norwood, and came to my business from there. I

knew nothing of this affair until I was in the train, when I read what you have just heard. I at once saw the

horrible danger of my position, and I hurried to put the case into your hands. I have no doubt that I should

have been arrested either at my City office or at my home. A man followed me from London Bridge Station,

It was a clang of the bell, followed instantly by heavy steps upon the stair. A moment later our old friend

Lestrade appeared in the doorway. Over his shoulder I caught a glimpse of one or two uniformed policemen

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

"One moment, Lestrade," said Holmes. "Half an hour more or less can make no difference to you, and the

gentleman was about to give us an account of this very interesting affair, which might aid us in clearing it

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

"Well, Mr. Holmes, it is difficult for me to refuse you anything, for you have been of use to the force once or

twice in the past, and we owe you a good turn at Scotland Yard," said Lestrade. "At the same time I must

remain with my prisoner, and I am bound to warn him that anything he may say will appear in evidence

"I wish nothing better," said our client. "All I ask is that you should hear and recognise the absolute truth."

"I must explain first," said McFarlane, "that I knew nothing of Mr. Jonas Oldacre. His name was familiar to

me, for many years ago my parents were acquainted with him, but they drifted apart. I was very much

surprised, therefore, when yesterday, about three o'clock in the afternoon, he walked into my office in the

City. But I was still more astonished when he told me the object of his visit. He had in his hand several sheets

of a notebook, covered with scribbled writing here they are and he laid them on my table.

"`Here is my will,' said he. `I want you, Mr. McFarlane, to cast it into proper legal shape. I will sit here while

"I set myself to copy it, and you can imagine my astonishment when I found that, with some reservations, he

had left all his property to me. He was a strange little, ferretlike man, with white eyelashes, and when I

looked up at him I found his keen grey eyes fixed upon me with an amused expression. I could hardly believe

my own senses as I read the terms of the will; but he explained that he was a bachelor with hardly any living

relation, that he had known my parents in his youth, and that he had always heard of me as a very deserving

young man, and was assured that his money would be in worthy hands. Of course, I could only stammer out

my thanks. The will was duly finished, signed, and witnessed by my clerk. This is it on the blue paper, and

these slips, as I have explained, are the rough draft. Mr. Jonas Oldacre then informed me that there were a

number of documents building leases, titledeeds, mortgages, scrip, and so forth which it was

necessary that I should see and understand. He said that his mind would not be easy until the whole thing was

settled, and he begged me to come out to his house at Norwood that night, bringing the will with me, and to

arrange matters. `Remember, my boy, not one word to your parents about the affair until everything is settled.

We will keep it as a little surprise for them.' He was very insistent upon this point, and made me promise it

"You can imagine, Mr. Holmes, that I was not in a humour to refuse him anything that he might ask. He was

my benefactor, and all my desire was to carry out his wishes in every particular. I sent a telegram home,

therefore, to say that I had important business on hand, and that it was impossible for me to say how late I

might be. Mr. Oldacre had told me that he would like me to have supper with him at nine, as he might not be

home before that hour. I had some difficulty in finding his house, however, and it was nearly halfpast before

"I was shown by this woman into a sittingroom, where a frugal supper was laid out. Afterwards Mr. Jonas

Oldacre led me into his bedroom, in which there stood a heavy safe. This he opened and took out a mass of

documents, which we went over together. It was between eleven and twelve when we finished. He remarked

that we must not disturb the housekeeper. He showed me out through his own French window, which had

"I will not be sure, but I believe that it was only half down. Yes, I remember how he pulled it up in order to

swing open the window. I could not find my stick, and he said, `Never mind, my boy; I shall see a good deal

of you now, I hope, and I will keep your stick until you come back to claim it.' I left him there, the safe open,

and the papers made up in packets upon the table. It was so late that I could not get back to Blackheath, so I

spent the night at the Anerley Arms, and I knew nothing more until I read of this horrible affair in the

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

"Oh, yes; no doubt that is what I must have meant," said Holmes, with his enigmatical smile. Lestrade had

learned by more experiences than he would care to acknowledge that that razorlike brain could cut through

"I think I should like to have a word with you presently, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said he. "Now, Mr.

McFarlane, two of my constables are at the door and there is a fourwheeler waiting." The wretched young

man arose, and with a last beseeching glance at us walked from the room. The officers conducted him to the

Holmes had picked up the pages which formed the rough draft of the will, and was looking at them with the

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

"I can read the first few lines, and these in the middle of the second page, and one or two at the end. Those

are as clear as print," said he; "but the writing in between is very bad, and there are three places where I

"That it was written in a train; the good writing represents stations, the bad writing movement, and the very

bad writing passing over points. A scientific expert would pronounce at once that this was drawn up on a

suburban line, since nowhere save in the immediate vicinity of a great city could there be so quick a

succession of points. Granting that his whole journey was occupied in drawing up the will, then the train was

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

"Well, it corroborates the young man's story to the extent that the will was drawn up by Jonas Oldacre in his

journey yesterday. It is curious is it not? that a man should draw up so important a document in so

haphazard a fashion. It suggests that he did not think it was going to be of much practical importance. If a

man drew up a will which he did not intend ever to be effective he might do it so."

"Not clear? Well, if that isn't clear, what COULD be clear? Here is a young man who learns suddenly that if a

certain older man dies he will succeed to a fortune. What does he do? He says nothing to anyone, but he

arranges that he shall go out on some pretext to see his client that night; he waits until the only other person

in the house is in bed, and then in the solitude of a man's room he murders him, burns his body in the

woodpile, and departs to a neighbouring hotel. The bloodstains in the room and also on the stick are very

slight. It is probable that he imagined his crime to be a bloodless one, and hoped that if the body were

consumed it would hide all traces of the method of his death traces which for some reason must have

"It strikes me, my good Lestrade, as being just a trifle too obvious," said Holmes. "You do not add

imagination to your other great qualities; but if you could for one moment put yourself in the place of this

young man, would you choose the very night after the will had been made to commit your crime? Would it

not seem dangerous to you to make so very close a relation between the two incidents? Again, would you

choose an occasion when you are known to be in the house, when a servant has let you in? And, finally,

would you take the great pains to conceal the body and yet leave your own stick as a sign that you were the

"As to the stick, Mr. Holmes, you know as well as I do that a criminal is often flurried and does things which

a cool man would avoid. He was very likely afraid to go back to the room. Give me another theory that would

"I could very easily give you halfadozen," said Holmes. "Here, for example, is a very possible and even

probable one. I make you a free present of it. The older man is showing documents which are of evident

value. A passing tramp sees them through the window, the blind of which is only half down. Exit the

solicitor. Enter the tramp! He seizes a stick, which he observes there, kills Oldacre, and departs after burning

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

"Well, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, you may look for your tramp, and while you are finding him we will hold on to

our man. The future will show which is right. Just notice this point, Mr. Holmes: that so far as we know none

of the papers were removed, and that the prisoner is the one man in the world who had no reason for

"I don't mean to deny that the evidence is in some ways very strongly in favour of your theory," said he. "I

only wish to point out that there are other theories possible. As you say, the future will decide. Good

morning! I dare say that in the course of the day I shall drop in at Norwood and see how you are getting on."

When the detective departed my friend rose and made his preparations for the day's work with the alert air of

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

"Because we have in this case one singular incident coming close to the heels of another singular incident.

The police are making the mistake of concentrating their attention upon the second, because it happens to be

the one which is actually criminal. But it is evident to me that the logical way to approach the case is to begin

by trying to throw some light upon the first incident the curious will, so suddenly made, and to so

unexpected an heir. It may do something to simplify what followed. No, my dear fellow, I don't think you can

help me. There is no prospect of danger, or I should not dream of stirring out without you. I trust that when I

see you in the evening I will be able to report that I have been able to do something for this unfortunate

It was late when my friend returned, and I could see by a glance at his haggard and anxious face that the high

hopes with which he had started had not been fulfilled. For an hour he droned away upon his violin,

endeavouring to soothe his own ruffled spirits. At last he flung down the instrument and plunged into a

"It's all going wrong, Watson all as wrong as it can go. I kept a bold face before Lestrade, but, upon my

soul, I believe that for once the fellow is on the right track and we are on the wrong. All my instincts are one

way and all the facts are the other, and I much fear that British juries have not yet attained that pitch of

intelligence when they will give the preference to my theories over Lestrade's facts."

"Yes, Watson, I went there, and I found very quickly that the late lamented Oldacre was a pretty considerable

blackguard. The father was away in search of his son. The mother was at home a little, fluffy, blueeyed

person, in a tremor of fear and indignation. Of course, she would not admit even the possibility of his guilt.

But she would not express either surprise or regret over the fate of Oldacre. On the contrary, she spoke of him

with such bitterness that she was unconsciously considerably strengthening the case of the police, for, of

course, if her son had heard her speak of the man in this fashion it would predispose him towards hatred and

violence. `He was more like a malignant and cunning ape than a human being,' said she, `and he always was,

"`Yes, I knew him well; in fact, he was an old suitor of mine. Thank Heaven that I had the sense to turn away

from him and to marry a better, if a poorer, man. I was engaged to him, Mr. Holmes, when I heard a shocking

story of how he had turned a cat loose in an aviary, and I was so horrified at his brutal cruelty that I would

have nothing more to do with him.' She rummaged in a bureau, and presently she produced a photograph of a

woman, shamefully defaced and mutilated with a knife. `That is my own photograph,' she said. `He sent it to

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

"`Neither my son nor I want anything from Jonas Oldacre, dead or alive,' she cried, with a proper spirit.

`There is a God in Heaven, Mr. Holmes, and that same God who has punished that wicked man will show in

"Well, I tried one or two leads, but could get at nothing which would help our hypothesis, and several points

"This place, Deep Dene House, is a big modern villa of staring brick, standing back in its own grounds, with

a laurelclumped lawn in front of it. To the right and some distance back from the road was the timberyard

which had been the scene of the fire. Here's a rough plan on a leaf of my notebook. This window on the left

is the one which opens into Oldacre's room. You can look into it from the road, you see. That is about the

only bit of consolation I have had today. Lestrade was not there, but his head constable did the honours.

They had just made a great treasuretrove. They had spent the morning raking among the ashes of the burned

woodpile, and besides the charred organic remains they had secured several discoloured metal discs. I

examined them with care, and there was no doubt that they were trouser buttons. I even distinguished that one

of them was marked with the name of `Hyams,' who was Oldacre's tailor. I then worked the lawn very

carefully for signs and traces, but this drought has made everything as hard as iron. Nothing was to be seen

save that some body or bundle had been dragged through a low privet hedge which is in a line with the

woodpile. All that, of course, fits in with the official theory. I crawled about the lawn with an August sun on

"Well, after this fiasco I went into the bedroom and examined that also. The bloodstains were very slight,

mere smears and discolorations, but undoubtedly fresh. The stick had been removed, but there also the marks

were slight. There is no doubt about the stick belonging to our client. He admits it. Footmarks of both men

could be made out on the carpet, but none of any third person, which again is a trick for the other side. They

"Only one little gleam of hope did I get and yet it amounted to nothing. I examined the contents of the

safe, most of which had been taken out and left on the table. The papers had been made up into sealed

envelopes, one or two of which had been opened by the police. They were not, so far as I could judge, of any

great value, nor did the bankbook show that Mr. Oldacre was in such very affluent circumstances. But it

seemed to me that all the papers were not there. There were allusions to some deeds possibly the more

valuable which I could not find. This, of course, if we could definitely prove it, would turn Lestrade's

argument against himself, for who would steal a thing if he knew that he would shortly inherit it?

"Finally, having drawn every other cover and picked up no scent, I tried my luck with the housekeeper. Mrs.

Lexington is her name, a little, dark, silent person, with suspicious and sidelong eyes. She could tell us

something if she would I am convinced of it. But she was as close as wax. Yes, she had let Mr. McFarlane

in at halfpast nine. She wished her hand had withered before she had done so. She had gone to bed at

halfpast ten. Her room was at the other end of the house, and she could hear nothing of what passed. Mr.

McFarlane had left his hat, and to the best of her belief his stick, in the hall. She had been awakened by the

alarm of fire. Her poor, dear master had certainly been murdered. Had he any enemies? Well, every man had

enemies, but Mr. Oldacre kept himself very much to himself, and only met people in the way of business. She

had seen the buttons, and was sure that they belonged to the clothes which he had worn last night. The

woodpile was very dry, for it had not rained for a month. It burned like tinder, and by the time she reached

the spot nothing could be seen but flames. She and all the firemen smelled the burned flesh from inside it.

"So, my dear Watson, there's my report of a failure. And yet and yet " he clenched his thin hands

in a paroxysm of conviction "I KNOW it's all wrong. I feel it in my bones. There is something that has not

come out, and that housekeeper knows it. There was a sort of sulky defiance in her eyes, which only goes

with guilty knowledge. However, there's no good talking any more about it, Watson; but unless some lucky

chance comes our way I fear that the Norwood Disappearance Case will not figure in that chronicle of our

successes which I foresee that a patient public will sooner or later have to endure."

"That is a dangerous argument, my dear Watson. You remember that terrible murderer, Bert Stevens, who

wanted us to get him off in '87? Was there ever a more mildmannered, Sundayschool young man?"

"Unless we succeed in establishing an alternative theory this man is lost. You can hardly find a flaw in the

case which can now be presented against him, and all further investigation has served to strengthen it. By the

way, there is one curious little point about those papers which may serve us as the startingpoint for an

inquiry. On looking over the bankbook I found that the low state of the balance was principally due to large

cheques which have been made out during the last year to Mr. Cornelius. I confess that I should be interested

to know who this Mr. Cornelius may be with whom a retired builder has such very large transactions. Is it

possible that he has had a hand in the affair? Cornelius might be a broker, but we have found no scrip to

correspond with these large payments. Failing any other indication my researches must now take the direction

of an inquiry at the bank for the gentleman who has cashed these cheques. But I fear, my dear fellow, that our

case will end ingloriously by Lestrade hanging our client, which will certainly be a triumph for Scotland

I do not know how far Sherlock Holmes took any sleep that night, but when I came down to breakfast I found

him pale and harassed, his bright eyes the brighter for the dark shadows round them. The carpet round his

chair was littered with cigaretteends and with the early editions of the morning papers. An open telegram

"It is Lestrade's little cockadoodle of victory," Holmes answered, with a bitter smile. "And yet it may be

premature to abandon the case. After all, important fresh evidence is a twoedged thing, and may possibly

cut in a very different direction to that which Lestrade imagines. Take your breakfast, Watson, and we will go

out together and see what we can do. I feel as if I shall need your company and your moral support today."

My friend had no breakfast himself, for it was one of his peculiarities that in his more intense moments he

would permit himself no food, and I have known him presume upon his iron strength until he has fainted

from pure inanition. "At present I cannot spare energy and nerve force for digestion," he would say in answer

to my medical remonstrances. I was not surprised, therefore, when this morning he left his untouched meal

behind him and started with me for Norwood. A crowd of morbid sightseers were still gathered round Deep

Dene House, which was just such a suburban villa as I had pictured. Within the gates Lestrade met us, his

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

"But we formed ours yesterday, and now it proves to be correct; so you must acknowledge that we have been

"You don't like being beaten any more than the rest of us do," said he. "A man can't expect always to have it

his own way, can he, Dr. Watson? Step this way, if you please, gentlemen, and I think I can convince you

"This is where young McFarlane must have come out to get his hat after the crime was done," said he. "Now,

look at this." With dramatic suddenness he struck a match and by its light exposed a stain of blood upon the

whitewashed wall. As he held the match nearer I saw that it was more than a stain. It was the wellmarked

"Well, then, will you please compare that print with this wax impression of young McFarlane's right thumb,

As he held the waxen print close to the bloodstain it did not take a magnifying glass to see that the two were

undoubtedly from the same thumb. It was evident to me that our unfortunate client was lost.

Something in his tone caught my ear, and I turned to look at him. An extraordinary change had come over his

face. It was writhing with inward merriment. His two eyes were shining like stars. It seemed to me that he

"Dear me! Dear me!" he said at last. "Well, now, who would have thought it? And how deceptive

appearances may be, to be sure! Such a nice young man to look at! It is a lesson to us not to trust our own

"Yes, some of us are a little too much inclined to be cocksure, Mr. Holmes," said Lestrade. The man's

"What a providential thing that this young man should press his right thumb against the wall in taking his hat

from the peg! Such a very natural action, too, if you come to think of it." Holmes was outwardly calm, but his

whole body gave a wriggle of suppressed excitement as he spoke. "By the way, Lestrade, who made this

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

"He remained on guard in the bedroom where the crime was committed, so as to see that nothing was

"Well, we had no particular reason to make a careful examination of the hall. Besides, it's not in a very

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

Lestrade looked at Holmes as if he thought he was going out of his mind. I confess that I was myself

"I don't know whether you think that McFarlane came out of gaol in the dead of the night in order to

strengthen the evidence against himself," said Lestrade. "I leave it to any expert in the world whether that is

"There, that's enough," said Lestrade. "I am a practical man, Mr. Holmes, and when I have got my evidence I

come to my conclusions. If you have anything to say you will find me writing my report in the sittingroom."

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

"Dear me, this is a very sad development, Watson, is it not?" said he. "And yet there are singular points about

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

"I would hardly go so far as to say that, my dear Watson. The fact is that there is one really serious flaw in

"Only this: that I KNOW that that mark was not there when I examined the hall yesterday. And now, Watson,

With a confused brain, but with a heart into which some warmth of hope was returning, I accompanied my

friend in a walk round the garden. Holmes took each face of the house in turn and examined it with great

interest. He then led the way inside and went over the whole building from basement to attics. Most of the

rooms were unfurnished, but none the less Holmes inspected them all minutely. Finally, on the top corridor,

which ran outside three untenanted bedrooms, he again was seized with a spasm of merriment.

"There are really some very unique features about this case, Watson," said he. "I think it is time now that we

took our friend Lestrade into our confidence. He has had his little smile at our expense, and perhaps we may

do as much by him if my reading of this problem proves to be correct. Yes, yes; I think I see how we should

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

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

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

"Excellent!" said Holmes. "May I ask if they are all large, ablebodied men with powerful voices?"

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

"Perhaps I can help you to see that and one or two other things as well," said Holmes. "Kindly summon your

"In the outhouse you will find a considerable quantity of straw," said Holmes. "I will ask you to carry in two

bundles of it. I think it will be of the greatest assistance in producing the witness whom I require. Thank you

very much. I believe you have some matches in your pocket, Watson. Now, Mr. Lestrade, I will ask you all to

As I have said, there was a broad corridor there, which ran outside three empty bedrooms. At one end of the

corridor we were all marshalled by Sherlock Holmes, the constables grinning and Lestrade staring at my

friend with amazement, expectation, and derision chasing each other across his features. Holmes stood before

"Would you kindly send one of your constables for two buckets of water? Put the straw on the floor here, free

"I don't know whether you are playing a game with us, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said he. "If you know

"I assure you, my good Lestrade, that I have an excellent reason for everything that I do. You may possibly

remember that you chaffed me a little some hours ago, when the sun seemed on your side of the hedge, so

you must not grudge me a little pomp and ceremony now. Might I ask you, Watson, to open that window, and

I did so, and, driven by the draught, a coil of grey smoke swirled down the corridor, while the dry straw

"Now we must see if we can find this witness for you, Lestrade. Might I ask you all to join in the cry of

It had hardly died away when an amazing thing happened. A door suddenly flew open out of what appeared

to be solid wall at the end of the corridor, and a little, wizened man darted out of it, like a rabbit out of its

"Capital!" said Holmes, calmly. "Watson, a bucket of water over the straw. That will do! Lestrade, allow me

The detective stared at the newcomer with blank amazement. The latter was blinking in the bright light of

the corridor, and peering at us and at the smouldering fire. It was an odious face crafty, vicious,

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

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

"No harm? You have done your best to get an innocent man hanged. If it wasn't for this gentleman here, I am

"Oh! a joke, was it? You won't find the laugh on your side, I promise you. Take him down and keep him in

the sittingroom until I come. Mr. Holmes," he continued, when they had gone, "I could not speak before the

constables, but I don't mind saying, in the presence of Dr. Watson, that this is the brightest thing that you

have done yet, though it is a mystery to me how you did it. You have saved an innocent man's life, and you

have prevented a very grave scandal, which would have ruined my reputation in the Force."

"Instead of being ruined, my good sir, you will find that your reputation has been enormously enhanced. Just

make a few alterations in that report which you were writing, and they will understand how hard it is to throw

"Not at all. The work is its own reward. Perhaps I shall get the credit also at some distant day when I permit

my zealous historian to lay out his foolscap once more eh, Watson? Well, now, let us see where this rat

A lathandplaster partition had been run across the passage six feet from the end, with a door cunningly

concealed in it. It was lit within by slits under the eaves. A few articles of furniture and a supply of food and

"There's the advantage of being a builder," said Holmes, as we came out. "He was able to fix up his own little

hidingplace without any confederate save, of course, that precious housekeeper of his, whom I should

"I made up my mind that the fellow was in hiding in the house. When I paced one corridor and found it six

feet shorter than the corresponding one below, it was pretty clear where he was. I thought he had not the

nerve to lie quiet before an alarm of fire. We could, of course, have gone in and taken him, but it amused me

to make him reveal himself; besides, I owed you a little mystification, Lestrade, for your chaff in the

"Well, sir, you certainly got equal with me on that. But how in the world did you know that he was in the

"The thumbmark, Lestrade. You said it was final; and so it was, in a very different sense. I knew it had not

been there the day before. I pay a good deal of attention to matters of detail, as you may have observed, and I

had examined the hall and was sure that the wall was clear. Therefore, it had been put on during the night."

"Very simply. When those packets were sealed up, Jonas Oldacre got McFarlane to secure one of the seals by

putting his thumb upon the soft wax. It would be done so quickly and so naturally that I dare say the young

man himself has no recollection of it. Very likely it just so happened, and Oldacre had himself no notion of

the use he would put it to. Brooding over the case in that den of his, it suddenly struck him what absolutely

damning evidence he could make against McFarlane by using that thumbmark. It was the simplest thing in

the world for him to take a wax impression from the seal, to moisten it in as much blood as he could get from

a pinprick, and to put the mark upon the wall during the night, either with his own hand or with that of his

housekeeper. If you examine among those documents which he took with him into his retreat I will lay you a

"Wonderful!" said Lestrade. "Wonderful! It's all as clear as crystal, as you put it. But what is the object of this

It was amusing to me to see how the detective's overbearing manner had changed suddenly to that of a child

"Well, I don't think that is very hard to explain. A very deep, malicious, vindictive person is the gentleman

who is now awaiting us downstairs. You know that he was once refused by McFarlane's mother? You don't! I

told you that you should go to Blackheath first and Norwood afterwards. Well, this injury, as he would

consider it, has rankled in his wicked, scheming brain, and all his life he has longed for vengeance, but never

seen his chance. During the last year or two things have gone against him secret speculation, I think

and he finds himself in a bad way. He determines to swindle his creditors, and for this purpose he pays large

cheques to a certain Mr. Cornelius, who is, I imagine, himself under another name. I have not traced these

cheques yet, but I have no doubt that they were banked under that name at some provincial town where

Oldacre from time to time led a double existence. He intended to change his name altogether, draw this

"It would strike him that in disappearing he might throw all pursuit off his track, and at the same time have an

ample and crushing revenge upon his old sweetheart, if he could give the impression that he had been

murdered by her only child. It was a masterpiece of villainy, and he carried it out like a master. The idea of

the will, which would give an obvious motive for the crime, the secret visit unknown to his own parents, the

retention of the stick, the blood, and the animal remains and buttons in the woodpile, all were admirable. It

was a net from which it seemed to me a few hours ago that there was no possible escape. But he had not that

supreme gift of the artist, the knowledge of when to stop. He wished to improve that which was already

perfect to draw the rope tighter yet round the neck of his unfortunate victim and so he ruined all. Let

us descend, Lestrade. There are just one or two questions that I would ask him."

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

"It was a joke, my good sir, a practical joke, nothing more," he whined incessantly. "I assure you, sir, that I

simply concealed myself in order to see the effect of my disappearance, and I am sure that you would not be

so unjust as to imagine that I would have allowed any harm to befall poor young Mr. McFarlane."

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

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

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

"I fancy that for some few years you will find your time very fully occupied," said he. "By the way, what was

it you put into the woodpile besides your old trousers? A dead dog, or rabbits, or what? You won't tell? Dear

me, how very unkind of you! Well, well, I dare say that a couple of rabbits would account both for the blood

and for the charred ashes. If ever you write an account, Watson, you can make rabbits serve your turn."

HOLMES had been seated for some hours in silence with his long, thin back curved over a chemical vessel in

which he was brewing a particularly malodorous product. His head was sunk upon his breast, and he looked

from my point of view like a strange, lank bird, with dull grey plumage and a black topknot.

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

I gave a start of astonishment. Accustomed as I was to Holmes's curious faculties, this sudden intrusion into

He wheeled round upon his stool, with a steaming testtube in his hand and a gleam of amusement in his

"You see, my dear Watson" he propped his testtube in the rack and began to lecture with the air of a

professor addressing his class "it is not really difficult to construct a series of inferences, each dependent

upon its predecessor and each simple in itself. If, after doing so, one simply knocks out all the central

inferences and presents one's audience with the startingpoint and the conclusion, one may produce a

startling, though possibly a meretricious, effect. Now, it was not really difficult, by an inspection of the

groove between your left forefinger and thumb, to feel sure that you did NOT propose to invest your small

"Very likely not; but I can quickly show you a close connection. Here are the missing links of the very simple

chain: 1. You had chalk between your left finger and thumb when you returned from the club last night. 2.

You put chalk there when you play billiards to steady the cue. 3. You never play billiards except with

Thurston. 4. You told me four weeks ago that Thurston had an option on some South African property which

would expire in a month, and which he desired you to share with him. 5. Your chequebook is locked in my

drawer, and you have not asked for the key. 6. You do not propose to invest your money in this manner."

"Quite so!" said he, a little nettled. "Every problem becomes very childish when once it is explained to you.

Here is an unexplained one. See what you can make of that, friend Watson." He tossed a sheet of paper upon

"That is what Mr. Hilton Cubitt, of Riding Thorpe Manor, Norfolk, is very anxious to know. This little

conundrum came by the first post, and he was to follow by the next train. There's a ring at the bell, Watson. I

A heavy step was heard upon the stairs, and an instant later there entered a tall, ruddy, cleanshaven

gentleman, whose clear eyes and florid cheeks told of a life led far from the fogs of Baker Street. He seemed

to bring a whiff of his strong, fresh, bracing, eastcoast air with him as he entered. Having shaken hands with

each of us, he was about to sit down when his eye rested upon the paper with the curious markings, which I

"Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of these?" he cried. "They told me that you were fond of queer

mysteries, and I don't think you can find a queerer one than that. I sent the paper on ahead so that you might

"It is certainly rather a curious production," said Holmes. "At first sight it would appear to be some childish

prank. It consists of a number of absurd little figures dancing across the paper upon which they are drawn.

"I never should, Mr. Holmes. But my wife does. It is frightening her to death. She says nothing, but I can see

Holmes held up the paper so that the sunlight shone full upon it. It was a page torn from a notebook. The

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

"This promises to be a most interesting and unusual case," said he. "You gave me a few particulars in your

letter, Mr. Hilton Cubitt, but I should be very much obliged if you would kindly go over it all again for the

"I'm not much of a storyteller," said our visitor, nervously clasping and unclasping his great, strong hands.

"You'll just ask me anything that I don't make clear. I'll begin at the time of my marriage last year; but I want

to say first of all that, though I'm not a rich man, my people have been at Ridling Thorpe for a matter of five

centuries, and there is no better known family in the County of Norfolk. Last year I came up to London for

the Jubilee, and I stopped at a boardinghouse in Russell Square, because Parker, the vicar of our parish, was

staying in it. There was an American young lady there Patrick was the name Elsie Patrick. In some

way we became friends, until before my month was up I was as much in love as a man could be. We were

quietly married at a registry office, and we returned to Norfolk a wedded couple. You'll think it very mad,

Mr. Holmes, that a man of a good old family should marry a wife in this fashion, knowing nothing of her past

or of her people; but if you saw her and knew her it would help you to understand.

"She was very straight about it, was Elsie. I can't say that she did not give me every chance of getting out of it

if I wished to do so. `I have had some very disagreeable associations in my life,' said she; `I wish to forget all

about them. I would rather never allude to the past, for it is very painful to me. If you take me, Hilton, you

will take a woman who has nothing that she need be personally ashamed of; but you will have to be content

with my word for it, and to allow me to be silent as to all that passed up to the time when I became yours. If

these conditions are too hard, then go back to Norfolk and leave me to the lonely life in which you found me.'

It was only the day before our wedding that she said those very words to me. I told her that I was content to

"Well, we have been married now for a year, and very happy we have been. But about a month ago, at the

end of June, I saw for the first time signs of trouble. One day my wife received a letter from America. I saw

the American stamp. She turned deadly white, read the letter, and threw it into the fire. She made no allusion

to it afterwards, and I made none, for a promise is a promise; but she has never known an easy hour from that

moment. There is always a look of fear upon her face a look as if she were waiting and expecting. She

would do better to trust me. She would find that I was her best friend. But until she speaks I can say nothing.

Mind you, she is a truthful woman, Mr. Holmes, and whatever trouble there may have been in her past life it

has been no fault of hers. I am only a simple Norfolk squire, but there is not a man in England who ranks his

family honour more highly than I do. She knows it well, and she knew it well before she married me. She

"Well, now I come to the queer part of my story. About a week ago it was the Tuesday of last week I

found on one of the windowsills a number of absurd little dancing figures, like these upon the paper. They

were scrawled with chalk. I thought that it was the stableboy who had drawn them, but the lad swore he

knew nothing about it. Anyhow, they had come there during the night. I had them washed out, and I only

mentioned the matter to my wife afterwards. To my surprise she took it very seriously, and begged me if any

more came to let her see them. None did come for a week, and then yesterday morning I found this paper

lying on the sundial in the garden. I showed it to Elsie, and down she dropped in a dead faint. Since then she

has looked like a woman in a dream, half dazed, and with terror always lurking in her eyes. It was then that I

wrote and sent the paper to you, Mr. Holmes. It was not a thing that I could take to the police, for they would

have laughed at me, but you will tell me what to do. I am not a rich man; but if there is any danger

He was a fine creature, this man of the old English soil, simple, straight, and gentle, with his great, earnest

blue eyes and broad, comely face. His love for his wife and his trust in her shone in his features. Holmes had

listened to his story with the utmost attention, and now he sat for some time in silent thought.

"Don't you think, Mr. Cubitt," said he, at last, "that your best plan would be to make a direct appeal to your

"A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wished to tell me she would. If not, it is not for me to force her

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

"In the immediate neighbourhood, yes. But we have several small wateringplaces not very far away. And

"These hieroglyphics have evidently a meaning. If it is a purely arbitrary one it may be impossible for us to

solve it. If, on the other hand, it is systematic, I have no doubt that we shall get to the bottom of it. But this

particular sample is so short that I can do nothing, and the facts which you have brought me are so indefinite

that we have no basis for an investigation. I would suggest that you return to Norfolk, that you keep a keen

lookout, and that you take an exact copy of any fresh dancing men which may appear. It is a thousand pities

that we have not a reproduction of those which were done in chalk upon the windowsill. Make a discreet

inquiry also as to any strangers in the neighbourhood. When you have collected some fresh evidence come to

me again. That is the best advice which I can give you, Mr. Hilton Cubitt. If there are any pressing fresh

developments I shall be always ready to run down and see you in your Norfolk home."

The interview left Sherlock Holmes very thoughtful, and several times in the next few days I saw him take

his slip of paper from his notebook and look long and earnestly at the curious figures inscribed upon it. He

made no allusion to the affair, however, until one afternoon a fortnight or so later. I was going out when he

"Because I had a wire from Hilton Cubitt this morning you remember Hilton Cubitt, of the dancing men?

He was to reach Liverpool Street at onetwenty. He may be here at any moment. I gather from his wire that

We had not long to wait, for our Norfolk squire came straight from the station as fast as a hansom could bring

him. He was looking worried and depressed, with tired eyes and a lined forehead.

"It's getting on my nerves, this business, Mr. Holmes," said he, as he sank, like a wearied man, into an

armchair. "It's bad enough to feel that you are surrounded by unseen, unknown folk, who have some kind of

design upon you; but when, in addition to that, you know that it is just killing your wife by inches, then it

becomes as much as flesh and blood can endure. She's wearing away under it just wearing away before

"No, Mr. Holmes, she has not. And yet there have been times when the poor girl has wanted to speak, and yet

could not quite bring herself to take the plunge. I have tried to help her; but I dare say I did it clumsily, and

scared her off from it. She has spoken about my old family, and our reputation in the county, and our pride in

our unsullied honour, and I always felt it was leading to the point; but somehow it turned off before we got

"A good deal, Mr. Holmes. I have several fresh dancing men pictures for you to examine, and, what is more

"Yes, I saw him at his work. But I will tell you everything in order. When I got back after my visit to you, the

very first thing I saw next morning was a fresh crop of dancing men. They had been drawn in chalk upon the

black wooden door of the toolhouse, which stands beside the lawn in full view of the front windows. I took

an exact copy, and here it is." He unfolded a paper and laid it upon the table. Here is a copy of the

"When I had taken the copy I rubbed out the marks; but two mornings later a fresh inscription had appeared. I

"Three days later a message was left scrawled upon paper, and placed under a pebble upon the sundial. Here

it is. The characters are, as you see, exactly the same as the last one. After that I determined to lie in wait; so I

got out my revolver and I sat up in my study, which overlooks the lawn and garden. About two in the

morning I was seated by the window, all being dark save for the moonlight outside, when I heard steps

behind me, and there was my wife in her dressinggown. She implored me to come to bed. I told her frankly

that I wished to see who it was who played such absurd tricks upon us. She answered that it was some

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

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

"Suddenly, as she spoke, I saw her white face grow whiter yet in the moonlight, and her hand tightened upon

my shoulder. Something was moving in the shadow of the toolhouse. I saw a dark, creeping figure which

crawled round the corner and squatted in front of the door. Seizing my pistol I was rushing out, when my

wife threw her arms round me and held me with convulsive strength. I tried to throw her off, but she clung to

me most desperately. At last I got clear, but by the time I had opened the door and reached the house the

creature was gone. He had left a trace of his presence, however, for there on the door was the very same

arrangement of dancing men which had already twice appeared, and which I have copied on that paper. There

was no other sign of the fellow anywhere, though I ran all over the grounds. And yet the amazing thing is that

he must have been there all the time, for when I examined the door again in the morning he had scrawled

"Tell me," said Holmes and I could see by his eyes that he was much excited "was this a mere addition

"Excellent! This is far the most important of all for our purpose. It fills me with hopes. Now, Mr. Hilton

"I have nothing more to say, Mr. Holmes, except that I was angry with my wife that night for having held me

back when I might have caught the skulking rascal. She said that she feared that I might come to harm. For an

instant it had crossed my mind that perhaps what she really feared was that HE might come to harm, for I

could not doubt that she knew who this man was and what he meant by these strange signals. But there is a

tone in my wife's voice, Mr. Holmes, and a look in her eyes which forbid doubt, and I am sure that it was

indeed my own safety that was in her mind. There's the whole case, and now I want your advice as to what I

ought to do. My own inclination is to put halfadozen of my farm lads in the shrubbery, and when this

fellow comes again to give him such a hiding that he will leave us in peace for the future."

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

"I must go back today. I would not leave my wife alone all night for anything. She is very nervous and

"I dare say you are right. But if you could have stopped I might possibly have been able to return with you in

a day or two. Meanwhile you will leave me these papers, and I think that it is very likely that I shall be able to

Sherlock Holmes preserved his calm professional manner until our visitor had left us, although it was easy for

me, who knew him so well, to see that he was profoundly excited. The moment that Hilton Cubitt's broad

back had disappeared through the door my comrade rushed to the table, laid out all the slips of paper

containing dancing men in front of him, and threw himself into an intricate and elaborate calculation. For two

hours I watched him as he covered sheet after sheet of paper with figures and letters, so completely absorbed

in his task that he had evidently forgotten my presence. Sometimes he was making progress and whistled and

sang at his work; sometimes he was puzzled, and would sit for long spells with a furrowed brow and a vacant

eye. Finally he sprang from his chair with a cry of satisfaction, and walked up and down the room rubbing his

hands together. Then he wrote a long telegram upon a cable form. "If my answer to this is as I hope, you will

have a very pretty case to add to your collection, Watson," said he. "I expect that we shall be able to go down

to Norfolk tomorrow, and to take our friend some very definite news as to the secret of his annoyance."

I confess that I was filled with curiosity, but I was aware that Holmes liked to make his disclosures at his own

time and in his own way; so I waited until it should suit him to take me into his confidence.

But there was a delay in that answering telegram, and two days of impatience followed, during which Holmes

pricked up his ears at every ring of the bell. On the evening of the second there came a letter from Hilton

Cubitt. All was quiet with him, save that a long inscription had appeared that morning upon the pedestal of

Holmes bent over this grotesque frieze for some minutes, and then suddenly sprang to his feet with an

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

"Then we shall breakfast early and take the very first in the morning," said Holmes. "Our presence is most

urgently needed. Ah! here is our expected cablegram. One moment, Mrs. Hudson; there may be an answer.

No, that is quite as I expected. This message makes it even more essential that we should not lose an hour in

letting Hilton Cubitt know how matters stand, for it is a singular and a dangerous web in which our simple

So, indeed, it proved, and as I come to the dark conclusion of a story which had seemed to me to be only

childish and bizarre I experience once again the dismay and horror with which I was filled. Would that I had

some brighter ending to communicate to my readers, but these are the chronicles of fact, and I must follow to

their dark crisis the strange chain of events which for some days made Ridling Thorpe Manor a household

We had hardly alighted at North Walsham, and mentioned the name of our destination, when the

stationmaster hurried towards us. "I suppose that you are the detectives from London?" said he.

"Because Inspector Martin from Norwich has just passed through. But maybe you are the surgeons. She's not

dead or wasn't by last accounts. You may be in time to save her yet though it be for the gallows."

"We are going to Ridling Thorpe Manor," said he, "but we have heard nothing of what has passed there."

"It's a terrible business," said the stationmaster. "They are shot, both Mr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife. She

shot him and then herself so the servants say. He's dead and her life is despaired of. Dear, dear, one of the

Without a word Holmes hurried to a carriage, and during the long seven miles' drive he never opened his

mouth. Seldom have I seen him so utterly despondent. He had been uneasy during all our journey from town,

and I had observed that he had turned over the morning papers with anxious attention; but now this sudden

realization of his worst fears left him in a blank melancholy. He leaned back in his seat, lost in gloomy

speculation. Yet there was much around to interest us, for we were passing through as singular a

countryside as any in England, where a few scattered cottages represented the population of today, while

on every hand enormous squaretowered churches bristled up from the flat, green landscape and told of the

glory and prosperity of old East Anglia. At last the violet rim of the German Ocean appeared over the green

edge of the Norfolk coast, and the driver pointed with his whip to two old brick and timber gables which

As we drove up to the porticoed front door I observed in front of it, beside the tennis lawn, the black

toolhouse and the pedestalled sundial with which we had such strange associations. A dapper little man,

with a quick, alert manner and a waxed moustache, had just descended from a high dogcart. He introduced

himself as Inspector Martin, of the Norfolk Constabulary, and he was considerably astonished when he heard

"Why, Mr. Holmes, the crime was only committed at three this morning. How could you hear of it in London

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

"I have only the evidence of the dancing men," said Holmes. "I will explain the matter to you later.

Meanwhile, since it is too late to prevent this tragedy, I am very anxious that I should use the knowledge

which I possess in order to ensure that justice be done. Will you associate me in your investigation, or will

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

"In that case I should be glad to hear the evidence and to examine the premises without an instant of

Inspector Martin had the good sense to allow my friend to do things in his own fashion, and contented

himself with carefully noting the results. The local surgeon, an old, whitehaired man, had just come down

from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt's room, and he reported that her injuries were serious, but not necessarily fatal. The

bullet had passed through the front of her brain, and it would probably be some time before she could regain

consciousness. On the question of whether she had been shot or had shot herself he would not venture to

express any decided opinion. Certainly the bullet had been discharged at very close quarters. There was only

the one pistol found in the room, two barrels of which had been emptied. Mr. Hilton Cubitt had been shot

through the heart. It was equally conceivable that he had shot her and then himself, or that she had been the

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

The old hall, oakpanelled and highwindowed, had been turned into a court of investigation. Holmes sat in

a great, oldfashioned chair, his inexorable eyes gleaming out of his haggard face. I could read in them a set

purpose to devote his life to this quest until the client whom he had failed to save should at last be avenged.

The trim Inspector Martin, the old, greyheaded country doctor, myself, and a stolid village policeman made

The two women told their story clearly enough. They had been aroused from their sleep by the sound of an

explosion, which had been followed a minute later by a second one. They slept in adjoining rooms, and Mrs.

King had rushed in to Saunders. Together they had descended the stairs. The door of the study was open and

a candle was burning upon the table. Their master lay upon his face in the centre of the room. He was quite

dead. Near the window his wife was crouching, her head leaning against the wall. She was horribly wounded,

and the side of her face was red with blood. She breathed heavily, but was incapable of saying anything. The

passage, as well as the room, was full of smoke and the smell of powder. The window was certainly shut and

fastened upon the inside. Both women were positive upon the point. They had at once sent for the doctor and

for the constable. Then, with the aid of the groom and the stableboy, they had conveyed their injured

mistress to her room. Both she and her husband had occupied the bed. She was clad in her dress he in his

dressinggown, over his night clothes. Nothing had been moved in the study. So far as they knew there had

never been any quarrel between husband and wife. They had always looked upon them as a very united

These were the main points of the servants' evidence. In answer to Inspector Martin they were clear that

every door was fastened upon the inside, and that no one could have escaped from the house. In answer to

Holmes they both remembered that they were conscious of the smell of powder from the moment that they

ran out of their rooms upon the top floor. "I commend that fact very carefully to your attention," said Holmes

to his professional colleague. "And now I think that we are in a position to undertake a thorough examination

The study proved to be a small chamber, lined on three sides with books, and with a writingtable facing an

ordinary window, which looked out upon the garden. Our first attention was given to the body of the

unfortunate squire, whose huge frame lay stretched across the room. His disordered dress showed that he had

been hastily aroused from sleep. The bullet had been fired at him from the front, and had remained in his

body after penetrating the heart. His death had certainly been instantaneous and painless. There was no

powdermarking either upon his dressinggown or on his hands. According to the country surgeon the lady

"The absence of the latter means nothing, though its presence may mean everything," said Holmes. "Unless

the powder from a badlyfitting cartridge happens to spurt backwards, one may fire many shots without

leaving a sign. I would suggest that Mr. Cubitt's body may now be removed. I suppose, doctor, you have not

"A serious operation will be necessary before that can be done. But there are still four cartridges in the

revolver. Two have been fired and two wounds inflicted, so that each bullet can be accounted for."

"So it would seem," said Holmes. "Perhaps you can account also for the bullet which has so obviously struck

He had turned suddenly, and his long, thin finger was pointing to a hole which had been drilled right through

"Wonderful!" said the country doctor. "You are certainly right, sir. Then a third shot has been fired, and

therefore a third person must have been present. But who could that have been and how could he have got

"That is the problem which we are now about to solve," said Sherlock Holmes. "You remember, Inspector

Martin, when the servants said that on leaving their room they were at once conscious of a smell of powder I

"It suggested that at the time of the firing the window as well as the door of the room had been open.

Otherwise the fumes of powder could not have been blown so rapidly through the house. A draught in the

room was necessary for that. Both door and window were only open for a very short time, however."

"Feeling sure that the window had been open at the time of the tragedy I conceived that there might have

been a third person in the affair, who stood outside this opening and fired through it. Any shot directed at this

person might hit the sash. I looked, and there, sure enough, was the bullet mark!"

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

It was a lady's handbag which stood upon the study table a trim little handbag of crocodileskin and

silver. Holmes opened it and turned the contents out. There were twenty fiftypound notes of the Bank of

"This must be preserved, for it will figure in the trial," said Holmes, as he handed the bag with its contents to

the inspector. "It is now necessary that we should try to throw some light upon this third bullet, which has

clearly, from the splintering of the wood, been fired from inside the room. I should like to see Mrs. King, the

cook, again. You said, Mrs. King, that you were awakened by a LOUD explosion. When you said that, did

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

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

"I believe that it was undoubtedly so. I rather think, Inspector Martin, that we have now exhausted all that this

room can teach us. If you will kindly step round with me, we shall see what fresh evidence the garden has to

A flowerbed extended up to the study window, and we all broke into an exclamation as we approached it.

The flowers were trampled down, and the soft soil was imprinted all over with footmarks. Large, masculine

feet they were, with peculiarly long, sharp toes. Holmes hunted about among the grass and leaves like a

retriever after a wounded bird. Then, with a cry of satisfaction, he bent forward and picked up a little brazen

"I thought so," said he; "the revolver had an ejector, and here is the third cartridge. I really think, Inspector

The country inspector's face had shown his intense amazement at the rapid and masterful progress of

Holmes's investigation. At first he had shown some disposition to assert his own position; but now he was

overcome with admiration and ready to follow without question wherever Holmes led.

"I'll go into that later. There are several points in this problem which I have not been able to explain to you

yet. Now that I have got so far I had best proceed on my own lines, and then clear the whole matter up once

"I have no desire to make mysteries, but it is impossible at the moment of action to enter into long and

complex explanations. I have the threads of this affair all in my hand. Even if this lady should never recover

consciousness we can still reconstruct the events of last night and ensure that justice be done. First of all I

wish to know whether there is any inn in this neighbourhood known as `Elrige's'?"

The servants were crossquestioned, but none of them had heard of such a place. The stableboy threw a

light upon the matter by remembering that a farmer of that name lived some miles off in the direction of East

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

He took from his pocket the various slips of the dancing men. With these in front of him he worked for some

time at the studytable. Finally he handed a note to the boy, with directions to put it into the hands of the

person to whom it was addressed, and especially to answer no questions of any sort which might be put to

him. I saw the outside of the note, addressed in straggling, irregular characters, very unlike Holmes's usual

precise hand. It was consigned to Mr. Abe Slaney, Elrige's Farm, East Ruston, Norfolk.

"I think, inspector," Holmes remarked, "that you would do well to telegraph for an escort, as, if my

calculations prove to be correct, you may have a particularly dangerous prisoner to convey to the county gaol.

The boy who takes this note could no doubt forward your telegram. If there is an afternoon train to town,

Watson, I think we should do well to take it, as I have a chemical analysis of some interest to finish, and this

When the youth had been dispatched with the note, Sherlock Holmes gave his instructions to the servants. If

any visitor were to call asking for Mrs. Hilton Cubitt no information should be given as to her condition, but

he was to be shown at once into the drawingroom. He impressed these points upon them with the utmost

earnestness. Finally he led the way into the drawingroom with the remark that the business was now out of

our hands, and that we must while away the time as best we might until we could see what was in store for us.

The doctor had departed to his patients, and only the inspector and myself remained.

"I think that I can help you to pass an hour in an interesting and profitable manner," said Holmes, drawing his

chair up to the table and spreading out in front of him the various papers upon which were recorded the antics

of the dancing men. "As to you, friend Watson, I owe you every atonement for having allowed your natural

curiosity to remain so long unsatisfied. To you, inspector, the whole incident may appeal as a remarkable

professional study. I must tell you first of all the interesting circumstances connected with the previous

consultations which Mr. Hilton Cubitt has had with me in Baker Street." He then shortly recapitulated the

facts which have already been recorded. "I have here in front of me these singular productions, at which one

might smile had they not proved themselves to be the forerunners of so terrible a tragedy. I am fairly

familiar with all forms of secret writings, and am myself the author of a trifling monograph upon the subject,

in which I analyze one hundred and sixty separate ciphers; but I confess that this is entirely new to me. The

object of those who invented the system has apparently been to conceal that these characters convey a

message, and to give the idea that they are the mere random sketches of children.

"Having once recognised, however, that the symbols stood for letters, and having applied the rules which

guide us in all forms of secret writings, the solution was easy enough. The first message submitted to me was

so short that it was impossible for me to do more than to say with some confidence that the symbol XXX

stood for E. As you are aware, E is the most common letter in the English alphabet, and it predominates to so

marked an extent that even in a short sentence one would expect to find it most often. Out of fifteen symbols

in the first message four were the same, so it was reasonable to set this down as E. It is true that in some cases

the figure was bearing a flag and in some cases not, but it was probable from the way in which the flags were

distributed that they were used to break the sentence up into words. I accepted this as a hypothesis, and noted

"But now came the real difficulty of the inquiry. The order of the English letters after E is by no means well

marked, and any preponderance which may be shown in an average of a printed sheet may be reversed in a

single short sentence. Speaking roughly, T, A, O, I, N, S, H, R, D, and L are the numerical order in which

letters occur; but T, A, O, and I are very nearly abreast of each other, and it would be an endless task to try

each combination until a meaning was arrived at. I, therefore, waited for fresh material. In my second

interview with Mr. Hilton Cubitt he was able to give me two other short sentences and one message, which

appeared since there was no flag to be a single word. Here are the symbols. Now, in the single word I

have already got the two E's coming second and fourth in a word of five letters. It might be `sever,' or `lever,'

or `never.' There can be no question that the latter as a reply to an appeal is far the most probable, and the

circumstances pointed to its being a reply written by the lady. Accepting it as correct, we are now able to say

"Even now I was in considerable difficulty, but a happy thought put me in possession of several other letters.

It occurred to me that if these appeals came, as I expected, from someone who had been intimate with the

lady in her early life, a combination which contained two E's with three letters between might very well stand

for the name `ELSIE.' On examination I found that such a combination formed the termination of the

message which was three times repeated. It was certainly some appeal to `Elsie.' In this way I had got my L,

S, and I. But what appeal could it be? There were only four letters in the word which preceded `Elsie,' and it

ended in E. Surely the word must be `COME.' I tried all other four letters ending in E, but could find none to

fit the case. So now I was in possession of C, O, and M, and I was in a position to attack the first message

once more, dividing it into words and putting dots for each symbol which was still unknown. So treated it

"Now the first letter CAN only be A, which is a most useful discovery, since it occurs no fewer than three

times in this short sentence, and the H is also apparent in the second word. Now it becomes:

I had so many letters now that I could proceed with considerable confidence to the second message, which

Here I could only make sense by putting T and G for the missing letters, and supposing that the name was

Inspector Martin and I had listened with the utmost interest to the full and clear account of how my friend had

"I had every reason to suppose that this Abe Slaney was an American, since Abe is an American contraction,

and since a letter from America had been the startingpoint of all the trouble. I had also every cause to think

that there was some criminal secret in the matter. The lady's allusions to her past and her refusal to take her

husband into her confidence both pointed in that direction. I therefore cabled to my friend, Wilson Hargreave,

of the New York Police Bureau, who has more than once made use of my knowledge of London crime. I

asked him whether the name of Abe Slaney was known to him. Here is his reply: `The most dangerous crook

in Chicago.' On the very evening upon which I had his answer Hilton Cubitt sent me the last message from

The addition of a P and a D completed a message which showed me that the rascal was proceeding from

persuasion to threats, and my knowledge of the crooks of Chicago prepared me to find that he might very

rapidly put his words into action. I at once came to Norfolk with my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, but,

"It is a privilege to be associated with you in the handling of a case," said the inspector, warmly. "You will

excuse me, however, if I speak frankly to you. You are only answerable to yourself, but I have to answer to

my superiors. If this Abe Slaney, living at Elrige's, is indeed the murderer, and if he has made his escape

"But this is incredible, Mr. Holmes! Why should he come because you have asked him? Would not such a

"I think I have known how to frame the letter," said Sherlock Holmes. "In fact, if I am not very much

A man was striding up the path which led to the door. He was a tall, handsome, swarthy fellow, clad in a suit

of grey flannel, with a Panama hat, a bristling black beard, and a great, aggressive hooked nose, and

flourishing a cane as he walked. He swaggered up the path as if the place belonged to him, and we heard his

"I think, gentlemen," said Holmes, quietly, "that we had best take up our position behind the door. Every

precaution is necessary when dealing with such a fellow. You will need your handcuffs, inspector. You can

We waited in silence for a minute one of those minutes which one can never forget. Then the door opened

and the man stepped in. In an instant Holmes clapped a pistol to his head and Martin slipped the handcuffs

over his wrists. It was all done so swiftly and deftly that the fellow was helpless before he knew that he was

attacked. He glared from one to the other of us with a pair of blazing black eyes. Then he burst into a bitter

"Well, gentlemen, you have the drop on me this time. I seem to have knocked up against something hard. But

I came here in answer to a letter from Mrs. Hilton Cubitt. Don't tell me that she is in this? Don't tell me that

"You're crazy!" he cried, fiercely. "It was he that was hurt, not she. Who would have hurt little Elsie? I may

have threatened her, God forgive me, but I would not have touched a hair of her pretty head. Take it back

He sank with a deep groan on to the settee and buried his face in his manacled hands. For five minutes he was

silent. Then he raised his face once more, and spoke with the cold composure of despair.

"I have nothing to hide from you, gentlemen," said he. "If I shot the man he had his shot at me, and there's no

murder in that. But if you think I could have hurt that woman, then you don't know either me or her. I tell you

there was never a man in this world loved a woman more than I loved her. I had a right to her. She was

pledged to me years ago. Who was this Englishman that he should come between us? I tell you that I had the

"She broke away from your influence when she found the man that you are," said Holmes, sternly. "She fled

from America to avoid you, and she married an honourable gentleman in England. You dogged her and

followed her and made her life a misery to her in order to induce her to abandon the husband whom she loved

and respected in order to fly with you, whom she feared and hated. You have ended by bringing about the

death of a noble man and driving his wife to suicide. That is your record in this business, Mr. Abe Slaney,

"If Elsie dies I care nothing what becomes of me," said the American. He opened one of his hands and looked

at a note crumpled up in his palm. "See here, mister, he cried, with a gleam of suspicion in his eyes, "you're

not trying to scare me over this, are you? If the lady is hurt as bad as you say, who was it that wrote this

"You wrote it? There was no one on earth outside the Joint who knew the secret of the dancing men. How

"What one man can invent another can discover," said Holmes. There is a cab coming to convey you to

Norwich, Mr. Slaney. But, meanwhile, you have time to make some small reparation for the injury you have

wrought. Are you aware that Mrs. Hilton Cubitt has herself lain under grave suspicion of the murder of her

husband, and that it was only my presence here and the knowledge which I happened to possess which has

saved her from the accusation? The least that you owe her is to make it clear to the whole world that she was

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

"It is my duty to warn you that it will be used against you," cried the inspector, with the magnificent fairplay

"I'll chance that," said he. "First of all, I want you gentlemen to understand that I have known this lady since

she was a child. There were seven of us in a gang in Chicago, and Elsie's father was the boss of the Joint. He

was a clever man, was old Patrick. It was he who invented that writing, which would pass as a child's scrawl

unless you just happened to have the key to it. Well, Elsie learned some of our ways; but she couldn't stand

the business, and she had a bit of honest money of her own, so she gave us all the slip and got away to

London. She had been engaged to me, and she would have married me, I believe, if I had taken over another

profession; but she would have nothing to do with anything on the cross. It was only after her marriage to this

Englishman that I was able to find out where she was. I wrote to her, but got no answer. After that I came

"Well, I have been here a month now. I lived in that farm, where I had a room down below, and could get in

and out every night, and no one the wiser. I tried all I could to coax Elsie away. I knew that she read the

messages, for once she wrote an answer under one of them. Then my temper got the better of me, and I began

to threaten her. She sent me a letter then, imploring me to go away and saying that it would break her heart if

any scandal should come upon her husband. She said that she would come down when her husband was

asleep at three in the morning, and speak with me through the end window, if I would go away afterwards

and leave her in peace. She came down and brought money with her, trying to bribe me to go. This made me

mad, and I caught her arm and tried to pull her through the window. At that moment in rushed the husband

with his revolver in his hand. Elsie had sunk down upon the floor, and we were face to face. I was heeled

also, and I held up my gun to scare him off and let me get away. He fired and missed me. I pulled off almost

at the same instant, and down he dropped. I made away across the garden, and as I went I heard the window

shut behind me. That's God's truth, gentlemen, every word of it, and I heard no more about it until that lad

came riding up with a note which made me walk in here, like a jay, and give myself into your hands."

A cab had driven up whilst the American had been talking. Two uniformed policemen sat inside. Inspector

"No, she is not conscious. Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I only hope that if ever again I have an important case I

We stood at the window and watched the cab drive away. As I turned back my eye caught the pellet of paper

which the prisoner had tossed upon the table. It was the note with which Holmes had decoyed him.

"If you use the code which I have explained," said Holmes, "you will find that it simply means `Come here at

once.' I was convinced that it was an invitation which he would not refuse, since he could never imagine that

it could come from anyone but the lady. And so, my dear Watson, we have ended by turning the dancing men

to good when they have so often been the agents of evil, and I think that I have fulfilled my promise of giving

you something unusual for your notebook. Threeforty is our train, and I fancy we should be back in Baker

Only one word of epilogue. The American, Abe Slaney, was condemned to death at the winter assizes at

Norwich; but his penalty was changed to penal servitude in consideration of mitigating circumstances, and

the certainty that Hilton Cubitt had fired the first shot. Of Mrs. Hilton Cubitt I only know that I have heard

she recovered entirely, and that she still remains a widow, devoting her whole life to the care of the poor and

FROM the years 1894 to 1901 inclusive Mr. Sherlock Holmes was a very busy man. It is safe to say that

there was no public case of any difficulty in which he was not consulted during those eight years, and there

were hundreds of private cases, some of them of the most intricate and extraordinary character, in which he

played a prominent part. Many startling successes and a few unavoidable failures were the outcome of this

long period of continuous work. As I have preserved very full notes of all these cases, and was myself

personally engaged in many of them, it may be imagined that it is no easy task to know which I should select

to lay before the public. I shall, however, preserve my former rule, and give the preference to those cases

which derive their interest not so much from the brutality of the crime as from the ingenuity and dramatic

quality of the solution. For this reason I will now lay before the reader the facts connected with Miss Violet

Smith, the solitary cyclist of Charlington, and the curious sequel of our investigation, which culminated in

unexpected tragedy. It is true that the circumstances did not admit of any striking illustration of those powers

for which my friend was famous, but there were some points about the case which made it stand out in those

long records of crime from which I gather the material for these little narratives.

On referring to my notebook for the year 1895 I find that it was upon Saturday, the 23rd of April, that we

first heard of Miss Violet Smith. Her visit was, I remember, extremely unwelcome to Holmes, for he was

immersed at the moment in a very abstruse and complicated problem concerning the peculiar persecution to

which John Vincent Harden, the wellknown tobacco millionaire, had been subjected. My friend, who loved

above all things precision and concentration of thought, resented anything which distracted his attention from

the matter in hand. And yet without a harshness which was foreign to his nature it was impossible to refuse to

listen to the story of the young and beautiful woman, tall, graceful, and queenly, who presented herself at

Baker Street late in the evening and implored his assistance and advice. It was vain to urge that his time was

already fully occupied, for the young lady had come with the determination to tell her story, and it was

evident that nothing short of force could get her out of the room until she had done so. With a resigned air

and a somewhat weary smile, Holmes begged the beautiful intruder to take a seat and to inform us what it

"At least it cannot be your health," said he, as his keen eyes darted over her; "so ardent a bicyclist must be

She glanced down in surprise at her own feet, and I observed the slight roughening of the side of the sole

"Yes, I bicycle a good deal, Mr. Holmes, and that has something to do with my visit to you today."

My friend took the lady's ungloved hand and examined it with as close an attention and as little sentiment as a

"You will excuse me, I am sure. It is my business," said he, as he dropped it. "I nearly fell into the error of

supposing that you were typewriting. Of course, it is obvious that it is music. You observe the spatulate

fingerend, Watson, which is common to both professions? There is a spirituality about the face, however"

he gently turned it towards the light "which the typewriter does not generate. This lady is a musician."

"A beautiful neighbourhood and full of the most interesting associations. You remember, Watson, that it was

near there that we took Archie Stamford, the forger. Now, Miss Violet, what has happened to you near

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

"My father is dead, Mr. Holmes. He was James Smith, who conducted the orchestra at the old Imperial

Theatre. My mother and I were left without a relation in the world except one uncle, Ralph Smith, who went

to Africa twentyfive years ago, and we have never had a word from him since. When father died we were

left very poor, but one day we were told that there was an advertisement in the TIMES inquiring for our

whereabouts. You can imagine how excited we were, for we thought that someone had left us a fortune. We

went at once to the lawyer whose name was given in the paper. There we met two gentlemen, Mr. Carruthers

and Mr. Woodley, who were home on a visit from South Africa. They said that my uncle was a friend of

theirs, that he died some months before in great poverty in Johannesburg, and that he had asked them with his

last breath to hunt up his relations and see that they were in no want. It seemed strange to us that Uncle

Ralph, who took no notice of us when he was alive, should be so careful to look after us when he was dead;

but Mr. Carruthers explained that the reason was that my uncle had just heard of the death of his brother, and

"Mr. Woodley seemed to me to be a most odious person. He was for ever making eyes at me a coarse,

puffyfaced, redmoustached young man, with his hair plastered down on each side of his forehead. I

thought that he was perfectly hateful and I was sure that Cyril would not wish me to know such a person."

"Yes, Mr. Holmes; Cyril Morton, an electrical engineer, and we hope to be married at the end of the summer.

Dear me, how DID I get talking about him? What I wished to say was that Mr. Woodley was perfectly

odious, but that Mr. Carruthers, who was a much older man, was more agreeable. He was a dark, sallow,

cleanshaven, silent person; but he had polite manners and a pleasant smile. He inquired how we were left,

and on finding that we were very poor he suggested that I should come and teach music to his only daughter,

aged ten. I said that I did not like to leave my mother, on which he suggested that I should go home to her

every weekend, and he offered me a hundred a year, which was certainly splendid pay. So it ended by my

accepting, and I went down to Chiltern Grange, about six miles from Farnham. Mr. Carruthers was a

widower, but he had engaged a ladyhousekeeper, a very respectable, elderly person, called Mrs. Dixon, to

look after his establishment. The child was a dear, and everything promised well. Mr. Carruthers was very

kind and very musical, and we had most pleasant evenings together. Every weekend I went home to my

"The first flaw in my happiness was the arrival of the redmoustached Mr. Woodley. He came for a visit of a

week, and oh, it seemed three months to me! He was a dreadful person, a bully to everyone else, but to me

something infinitely worse. He made odious love to me, boasted of his wealth, said that if I married him I

would have the finest diamonds in London, and finally, when I would have nothing to do with him, he seized

me in his arms one day after dinner he was hideously strong and he swore that he would not let me go

until I had kissed him. Mr. Carruthers came in and tore him off from me, on which he turned upon his own

host, knocking him down and cutting his face open. That was the end of his visit, as you can imagine. Mr.

Carruthers apologized to me next day, and assured me that I should never be exposed to such an insult again.

"And now, Mr. Holmes, I come at last to the special thing which has caused me to ask your advice today.

You must know that every Saturday forenoon I ride on my bicycle to Farnham Station in order to get the

12.22 to town. The road from Chiltern Grange is a lonely one, and at one spot it is particularly so, for it lies

for over a mile between Charlington Heath upon one side and the woods which lie round Charlington Hall

upon the other. You could not find a more lonely tract of road anywhere, and it is quite rare to meet so much

as a cart, or a peasant, until you reach the high road near Crooksbury Hill. Two weeks ago I was passing this

place when I chanced to look back over my shoulder, and about two hundred yards behind me I saw a man,

also on a bicycle. He seemed to be a middleaged man, with a short, dark beard. I looked back before I

reached Farnham, but the man was gone, so I thought no more about it. But you can imagine how surprised I

was, Mr. Holmes, when on my return on the Monday I saw the same man on the same stretch of road. My

astonishment was increased when the incident occurred again, exactly as before, on the following Saturday

and Monday. He always kept his distance and did not molest me in any way, but still it certainly was very

odd. I mentioned it to Mr. Carruthers, who seemed interested in what I said, and told me that he had ordered a

horse and trap, so that in future I should not pass over these lonely roads without some companion.

"The horse and trap were to have come this week, but for some reason they were not delivered, and again I

had to cycle to the station. That was this morning. You can think that I looked out when I came to

Charlington Heath, and there, sure enough, was the man, exactly as he had been the two weeks before. He

always kept so far from me that I could not clearly see his face, but it was certainly someone whom I did not

know. He was dressed in a dark suit with a cloth cap. The only thing about his face that I could clearly see

was his dark beard. Today I was not alarmed, but I was filled with curiosity, and I determined to find out

who he was and what he wanted. I slowed down my machine, but he slowed down his. Then I stopped

altogether, but he stopped also. Then I laid a trap for him. There is a sharp turning of the road, and I pedalled

very quickly round this, and then I stopped and waited. I expected him to shoot round and pass me before he

could stop. But he never appeared. Then I went back and looked round the corner. I could see a mile of road,

but he was not on it. To make it the more extraordinary, there was no side road at this point down which he

Holmes chuckled and rubbed his hands. "This case certainly presents some features of its own," said he.

"How much time elapsed between your turning the corner and your discovery that the road was clear?"

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

"So by the process of exclusion we arrive at the fact that he made his way towards Charlington Hall, which,

as I understand, is situated in its own grounds on one side of the road. Anything else?"

"Nothing, Mr. Holmes, save that I was so perplexed that I felt I should not be happy until I had seen you and

"Oh, it may be a mere fancy of mine; but it has seemed to me sometimes that my employer, Mr. Carruthers,

takes a great deal of interest in me. We are thrown rather together. I play his accompaniments in the evening.

He has never said anything. He is a perfect gentleman. But a girl always knows."

"Well, at least he is fairly welltodo. But he goes into the City two or three times a week. He is deeply

"You will let me know any fresh development, Miss Smith. I am very busy just now, but I will find time to

make some inquiries into your case. In the meantime take no step without letting me know. Goodbye, and I

"It is part of the settled order of Nature that such a girl should have followers," said Holmes, as he pulled at

his meditative pipe, "but for choice not on bicycles in lonely country roads. Some secretive lover, beyond all

"Exactly. Our first effort must be to find who are the tenants of Charlington Hall. Then, again, how about the

connection between Carruthers and Woodley, since they appear to be men of such a different type? How

came they BOTH to be so keen upon looking up Ralph Smith's relations? One more point. What sort of a

MENAGE is it which pays double the market price for a governess, but does not keep a horse although six

"No, my dear fellow, YOU will go down. This may be some trifling intrigue, and I cannot break my other

important research for the sake of it. On Monday you will arrive early at Farnham; you will conceal yourself

near Charlington Heath; you will observe these facts for yourself, and act as your own judgment advises.

Then, having inquired as to the occupants of the Hall, you will come back to me and report. And now,

Watson, not another word of the matter until we have a few solid steppingstones on which we may hope to

We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday by the train which leaves Waterloo at

9.50, so I started early and caught the 9.13. At Farnham Station I had no difficulty in being directed to

Charlington Heath. It was impossible to mistake the scene of the young lady's adventure, for the road runs

between the open heath on one side and an old yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is

studded with magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of lichenstudded stone, each side pillar

surmounted by mouldering heraldic emblems; but besides this central carriage drive I observed several points

where there were gaps in the hedge and paths leading through them. The house was invisible from the road,

The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse, gleaming magnificently in the light of the

bright spring sunshine. Behind one of these clumps I took up my position, so as to command both the

gateway of the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon either side. It had been deserted when I left it, but

now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the opposite direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a

dark suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of the Charlington grounds he sprang from

A quarter of an hour passed and then a second cyclist appeared. This time it was the young lady coming from

the station. I saw her look about her as she came to the Charlington hedge. An instant later the man emerged

from his hidingplace, sprang upon his cycle, and followed her. In all the broad landscape those were the

only moving figures, the graceful girl sitting very straight upon her machine, and the man behind her bending

low over his handlebar, with a curiously furtive suggestion in every movement. She looked back at him and

slowed her pace. He slowed also. She stopped. He at once stopped too, keeping two hundred yards behind

her. Her next movement was as unexpected as it was spirited. She suddenly whisked her wheels round and

dashed straight at him! He was as quick as she, however, and darted off in desperate flight. Presently she

came back up the road again, her head haughtily in the air, not deigning to take any further notice of her silent

attendant. He had turned also, and still kept his distance until the curve of the road hid them from my sight.

I remained in my hidingplace, and it was well that I did so, for presently the man reappeared cycling slowly

back. He turned in at the Hall gates and dismounted from his machine. For some few minutes I could see him

standing among the trees. His hands were raised and he seemed to be settling his necktie. Then he mounted

his cycle and rode away from me down the drive towards the Hall. I ran across the heath and peered through

the trees. Far away I could catch glimpses of the old grey building with its bristling Tudor chimneys, but the

However, it seemed to me that I had done a fairly good morning's work, and I walked back in high spirits to

Farnham. The local houseagent could tell me nothing about Charlington Hall, and referred me to a

wellknown firm in Pall Mall. There I halted on my way home, and met with courtesy from the

representative. No, I could not have Charlington Hall for the summer. I was just too late. It had been let about

a month ago. Mr. Williamson was the name of the tenant. He was a respectable elderly gentleman. The polite

agent was afraid he could say no more, as the affairs of his clients were not matters which he could discuss.

Mr. Sherlock Holmes listened with attention to the long report which I was able to present to him that

evening, but it did not elicit that word of curt praise which I had hoped for and should have valued. On the

contrary, his austere face was even more severe than usual as he commented upon the things that I had done

"Your hidingplace, my dear Watson, was very faulty. You should have been behind the hedge; then you

would have had a close view of this interesting person. As it is you were some hundreds of yards away, and

can tell me even less than Miss Smith. She thinks she does not know the man; I am convinced she does. Why,

otherwise, should he be so desperately anxious that she should not get so near him as to see his features? You

describe him as bending over the handlebar. Concealment again, you see. You really have done remarkably

badly. He returns to the house and you want to find out who he is. You come to a London houseagent!"

"Gone to the nearest publichouse. That is the centre of country gossip. They would have told you every

name, from the master to the scullerymaid. Williamson! It conveys nothing to my mind. If he is an elderly

man he is not this active cyclist who sprints away from that athletic young lady's pursuit. What have we

gained by your expedition? The knowledge that the girl's story is true. I never doubted it. That there is a

connection between the cyclist and the Hall. I never doubted that either. That the Hall is tenanted by

Williamson. Who's the better for that? Well, well, my dear sir, don't look so depressed. We can do little more

until next Saturday, and in the meantime I may make one or two inquiries myself."

Next morning we had a note from Miss Smith, recounting shortly and accurately the very incidents which I

"I am sure that you will respect my confidence, Mr. Holmes, when I tell you that my place here has become

difficult owing to the fact that my employer has proposed marriage to me. I am convinced that his feelings

are most deep and most honourable. At the same time my promise is, of course, given. He took my refusal

very seriously, but also very gently. You can understand, however, that the situation is a little strained."

"Our young friend seems to be getting into deep waters," said Holmes, thoughtfully, as he finished the letter.

"The case certainly presents more features of interest and more possibility of development than I had

originally thought. I should be none the worse for a quiet, peaceful day in the country, and I am inclined to

Holmes's quiet day in the country had a singular termination, for he arrived at Baker Street late in the evening

with a cut lip and a discoloured lump upon his forehead, besides a general air of dissipation which would

have made his own person the fitting object of a Scotland Yard investigation. He was immensely tickled by

"I get so little active exercise that it is always a treat," said he. "You are aware that I have some proficiency in

the good old British sport of boxing. Occasionally it is of service. Today, for example, I should have come

"I found that country pub which I had already recommended to your notice, and there I made my discreet

inquiries. I was in the bar, and a garrulous landlord was giving me all that I wanted. Williamson is a

whitebearded man, and he lives alone with a small staff of servants at the Hall. There is some rumour that

he is or has been a clergyman; but one or two incidents of his short residence at the Hall struck me as

peculiarly unecclesiastical. I have already made some inquiries at a clerical agency, and they tell me that

there WAS a man of that name in orders whose career has been a singularly dark one. The landlord further

informed me that there are usually weekend visitors `a warm lot, sir' at the Hall, and especially one

gentleman with a red moustache, Mr. Woodley by name, who was always there. We had got as far as this

when who should walk in but the gentleman himself, who had been drinking his beer in the taproom and

had heard the whole conversation. Who was I? What did I want? What did I mean by asking questions? He

had a fine flow of language, and his adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a string of abuse by a vicious

backhander which I failed to entirely avoid. The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight left

against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me. Mr. Woodley went home in a cart. So ended my country

trip, and it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on the Surrey border has not been much more

"You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes," said she, "to hear that I am leaving Mr. Carruthers's employment.

Even the high pay cannot reconcile me to the discomforts of my situation. On Saturday I come up to town

and I do not intend to return. Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and so the dangers of the lonely road, if there ever

"As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely the strained situation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the

reappearance of that odious man, Mr. Woodley. He was always hideous, but he looks more awful than ever

now, for he appears to have had an accident and he is much disfigured. I saw him out of the window, but I am

glad to say I did not meet him. He had a long talk with Mr. Carruthers, who seemed much excited afterwards.

Woodley must be staying in the neighbourhood, for he did not sleep here, and yet I caught a glimpse of him

again this morning slinking about in the shrubbery. I would sooner have a savage wild animal loose about the

place. I loathe and fear him more than I can say. How CAN Mr. Carruthers endure such a creature for a

"So I trust, Watson; so I trust," said Holmes, gravely. "There is some deep intrigue going on round that little

woman, and it is our duty to see that no one molests her upon that last journey. I think, Watson, that we must

spare time to run down together on Saturday morning, and make sure that this curious and inconclusive

I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious view of the case, which had seemed to me rather

grotesque and bizarre than dangerous. That a man should lie in wait for and follow a very handsome woman

is no unheardof thing, and if he had so little audacity that he not only dared not address her, but even fled

from her approach, he was not a very formidable assailant. The ruffian Woodley was a very different person,

but, except on one occasion, he had not molested our client, and now he visited the house of Carruthers

without intruding upon her presence. The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of those weekend

parties at the Hall of which the publican had spoken; but who he was or what he wanted was as obscure as

ever. It was the severity of Holmes's manner and the fact that he slipped a revolver into his pocket before

leaving our rooms which impressed me with the feeling that tragedy might prove to lurk behind this curious

A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the heathcovered countryside with the

glowing clumps of flowering gorse seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of the duns and

drabs and slategreys of London. Holmes and I walked along the broad, sandy road inhaling the fresh

morning air, and rejoicing in the music of the birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of the road

on the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill we could see the grim Hall bristling out from amidst the ancient oaks,

which, old as they were, were still younger than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down

the long tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band, between the brown of the heath and the budding

green of the woods. Far away, a black dot, we could see a vehicle moving in our direction. Holmes gave an

"I had given a margin of half an hour," said he. "If that is her trap she must be making for the earlier train. I

fear, Watson, that she will be past Charlington before we can possibly meet her."

From the instant that we passed the rise we could no longer see the vehicle, but we hastened onwards at such

a pace that my sedentary life began to tell upon me, and I was compelled to fall behind. Holmes, however,

was always in training, for he had inexhaustible stores of nervous energy upon which to draw. His springy

step never slowed until suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and I saw him

throw up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At the same instant an empty dogcart, the horse

cantering, the reins trailing, appeared round the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us.

"Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran panting to his side. "Fool that I was not to allow for that

earlier train! It's abduction, Watson abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road! Stop the

horse! That's right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I can repair the consequences of my own blunder."

We had sprung into the dogcart, and Holmes, after turning the horse, gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and

we flew back along the road. As we turned the curve the whole stretch of road between the Hall and the heath

A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was down and his shoulders rounded as he put every

ounce of energy that he possessed on to the pedals. He was flying like a racer. Suddenly he raised his bearded

face, saw us close to him, and pulled up, springing from his machine. That coalblack beard was in singular

contrast to the pallor of his face, and his eyes were as bright as if he had a fever. He stared at us and at the

"Halloa! Stop there!" he shouted, holding his bicycle to block our road. "Where did you get that dogcart?

Pull up, man!" he yelled, drawing a pistol from his side pocket. "Pull up, I say, or, by George, I'll put a bullet

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

"That's what I am asking you. You're in her dogcart. You ought to know where she is."

"We met the dogcart on the road. There was no one in it. We drove back to help the young lady."

"Good Lord! Good Lord! what shall I do?" cried the stranger, in an ecstasy of despair. "They've got her, that

hellhound Woodley and the blackguard parson. Come, man, come, if you really are her friend. Stand by me

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

"This is where they came through," said he, pointing to the marks of several feet upon the muddy path.

It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an ostler, with leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his

back, his knees drawn up, a terrible cut upon his head. He was insensible, but alive. A glance at his wound

"That's Peter, the groom," cried the stranger. "He drove her. The beasts have pulled him off and clubbed him.

Let him lie; we can't do him any good, but we may save her from the worst fate that can befall a woman."

We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the trees. We had reached the shrubbery which

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

As he spoke a woman's shrill scream a scream which vibrated with a frenzy of horror burst from the

thick green clump of bushes in front of us. It ended suddenly on its highest note with a choke and a gurgle.

"This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley," cried the stranger, darting through the bushes. "Ah, the

We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward surrounded by ancient trees. On the farther side of

it, under the shadow of a mighty oak, there stood a singular group of three people. One was a woman, our

client, drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth. Opposite her stood a brutal, heavyfaced,

redmoustached young man, his gaitered legs parted wide, one arm akimbo, the other waving a ridingcrop,

his whole attitude suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly, greybearded man, wearing a

short surplice over a light tweed suit, had evidently just completed the wedding service, for he pocketed his

prayerbook as we appeared and slapped the sinister bridegroom upon the back in jovial congratulation.

"Come on!" cried our guide; "come on!" He rushed across the glade, Holmes and I at his heels. As we

approached, the lady staggered against the trunk of the tree for support. Williamson, the exclergyman,

bowed to us with mock politeness, and the bully Woodley advanced with a shout of brutal and exultant

"You can take your beard off, Bob," said he. "I know you right enough. Well, you and your pals have just

Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the dark beard which had disguised him and threw it

on the ground, disclosing a long, sallow, cleanshaven face below it. Then he raised his revolver and covered

the young ruffian, who was advancing upon him with his dangerous ridingcrop swinging in his hand.

"Yes," said our ally, "I AM Bob Carruthers, and I'll see this woman righted if I have to swing for it. I told you

His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the front of Woodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a

scream and fell upon his back, his hideous red face turning suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor. The old

man, still clad in his surplice, burst into such a string of foul oaths as I have never heard, and pulled out a

revolver of his own, but before he could raise it he was looking down the barrel of Holmes's weapon.

"Enough of this," said my friend, coldly. "Drop that pistol! Watson, pick it up! Hold it to his head! Thank

you. You, Carruthers, give me that revolver. We'll have no more violence. Come, hand it over!"

"You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the official police until their arrival. Here, you!" he shouted to a

frightened groom who had appeared at the edge of the glade. "Come here. Take this note as hard as you can

ride to Farnham." He scribbled a few words upon a leaf from his notebook. "Give it to the superintendent at

the policestation. Until he comes I must detain you all under my personal custody."

The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the tragic scene, and all were equally puppets in his

hands. Williamson and Carruthers found themselves carrying the wounded Woodley into the house, and I

gave my arm to the frightened girl. The injured man was laid on his bed, and at Holmes's request I examined

him. I carried my report to where he sat in the old tapestryhung diningroom with his two prisoners before

"What!" cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair. "I'll go upstairs and finish him first. Do you tell me that

"You need not concern yourself about that," said Holmes. "There are two very good reasons why she should

under no circumstances be his wife. In the first place, we are very safe in questioning Mr. Williamson's right

"Then you got it by a trick. But in any case a forced marriage is no marriage, but it is a very serious felony, as

you will discover before you have finished. You'll have time to think the point out during the next ten years

or so, unless I am mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you would have done better to keep your pistol in your

"I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all the precaution I had taken to shield this girl for

I loved her, Mr. Holmes, and it is the only time that ever I knew what love was it fairly drove me mad to

think that she was in the power of the greatest brute and bully in South Africa, a man whose name is a holy

terror from Kimberley to Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you'll hardly believe it, but ever since that girl has

been in my employment I never once let her go past this house, where I knew these rascals were lurking,

without following her on my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my distance from her, and I

wore a beard so that she should not recognise me, for she is a good and highspirited girl, and she wouldn't

have stayed in my employment long if she had thought that I was following her about the country roads."

"Because then, again, she would have left me, and I couldn't bear to face that. Even if she couldn't love me it

was a great deal to me just to see her dainty form about the house, and to hear the sound of her voice."

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

"Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let her go. Besides, with this crowd about, it was well

that she should have someone near to look after her. Then when the cable came I knew they were bound to

"Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things worked, and I can understand how this message would, as you

"By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers, I'll serve you as you served Jack Woodley. You

can bleat about the girl to your heart's content, for that's your own affair, but if you round on your pals to this

"Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting a cigarette. "The case is clear enough against

you, and all I ask is a few details for my private curiosity. However, if there's any difficulty in your telling me

I'll do the talking, and then you will see how far you have a chance of holding back your secrets. In the first

place, three of you came from South Africa on this game you Williamson, you Carruthers, and Woodley."

"Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of them until two months ago, and I have never been

in Africa in my life, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!"

"Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own homemade article. You had known Ralph

Smith in South Africa. You had reason to believe he would not live long. You found out that his niece would

"She was nextofkin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old fellow would make no will."

"So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl. The idea was that one of you was to marry her and

the other have a share of the plunder. For some reason Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why was that?"

"I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there Woodley was to do the courting. She recognised

the drunken brute that he was, and would have nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement was

rather upset by the fact that you had yourself fallen in love with the lady. You could no longer bear the idea

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

"It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we can tell this gentleman," cried Carruthers, with a

bitter laugh. "Yes, we quarreled, and he knocked me down. I am level with him on that, anyhow. Then I lost

sight of him. That was when he picked up with this cast padre here. I found that they had set up

housekeeping together at this place on the line that she had to pass for the station. I kept my eye on her after

that, for I knew there was some devilry in the wind. I saw them from time to time, for I was anxious to know

what they were after. Two days ago Woodley came up to my house with this cable, which showed that Ralph

Smith was dead. He asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said I would not. He asked me if I would

marry the girl myself and give him a share. I said I would willingly do so, but that she would not have me. He

said, `Let us get her married first, and after a week or two she may see things a bit different.' I said I would

have nothing to do with violence. So he went off cursing, like the foulmouthed blackguard that he was, and

swearing that he would have her yet. She was leaving me this weekend, and I had got a trap to take her to

the station, but I was so uneasy in my mind that I followed her on my bicycle. She had got a start, however,

and before I could catch her the mischief was done. The first thing I knew about it was when I saw you two

Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate. "I have been very obtuse, Watson," said he.

"When in your report you said that you had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie in the

shrubbery, that alone should have told me all. However, we may congratulate ourselves upon a curious and in

some respects a unique case. I perceive three of the county constabulary in the drive, and I am glad to see that

the little ostler is able to keep pace with them; so it is likely that neither he nor the interesting bridegroom

will be permanently damaged by their morning's adventures. I think, Watson, that in your medical capacity

you might wait upon Miss Smith and tell her that if she is sufficiently recovered we shall be happy to escort

her to her mother's home. If she is not quite convalescent you will find that a hint that we were about to

telegraph to a young electrician in the Midlands would probably complete the cure. As to you, Mr.

Carruthers, I think that you have done what you could to make amends for your share in an evil plot. There is

my card, sir, and if my evidence can be of help to you in your trial it shall be at your disposal."

In the whirl of our incessant activity it has often been difficult for me, as the reader has probably observed, to

round off my narratives, and to give those final details which the curious might expect. Each case has been

the prelude to another, and the crisis once over the actors have passed for ever out of our busy lives. I find,

however, a short note at the end of my manuscripts dealing with this case, in which I have put it upon record

that Miss Violet Smith did indeed inherit a large fortune, and that she is now the wife of Cyril Morton, the

senior partner of Morton & Kennedy, the famous Westminster electricians. Williamson and Woodley were

both tried for abduction and assault, the former getting seven years and the latter ten. Of the fate of Carruthers

I have no record, but I am sure that his assault was not viewed very gravely by the Court, since Woodley had

the reputation of being a most dangerous ruffian, and I think that a few months were sufficient to satisfy the

WE have had some dramatic entrances and exits upon our small stage at Baker Street, but I cannot recollect

anything more sudden and startling than the first appearance of Thorneycroft Huxtable, M.A., Ph.D., etc. His

card, which seemed too small to carry the weight of his academic distinctions, preceded him by a few

seconds, and then he entered himself so large, so pompous, and so dignified that he was the very

embodiment of selfpossession and solidity. And yet his first action when the door had closed behind him

was to stagger against the table, whence he slipped down upon the floor, and there was that majestic figure

We had sprung to our feet, and for a few moments we stared in silent amazement at this ponderous piece of

wreckage, which told of some sudden and fatal storm far out on the ocean of life. Then Holmes hurried with a

cushion for his head and I with brandy for his lips. The heavy white face was seamed with lines of trouble,

the hanging pouches under the closed eyes were leaden in colour, the loose mouth drooped dolorously at the

corners, the rolling chins were unshaven. Collar and shirt bore the grime of a long journey, and the hair

bristled unkempt from the wellshaped head. It was a sorelystricken man who lay before us.

"Absolute exhaustion possibly mere hunger and fatigue," said I, with my finger on the thready pulse,

"Return ticket from Mackleton, in the North of England," said Holmes, drawing it from the watchpocket. "It

The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and now a pair of vacant, grey eyes looked up at us. An instant

"Forgive this weakness, Mr. Holmes; I have been a little overwrought. Thank you, if I might have a glass of

milk and a biscuit I have no doubt that I should be better. I came personally, Mr. Holmes, in order to ensure

that you would return with me. I feared that no telegram would convince you of the absolute urgency of the

"I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I came to be so weak. I wish you, Mr. Holmes, to come to

"My colleague, Dr. Watson, could tell you that we are very busy at present. I am retained in this case of the

Ferrers Documents, and the Abergavenny murder is coming up for trial. Only a very important issue could

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

"Exactly. We had tried to keep it out of the papers, but there was some rumour in the GLOBE last night. I

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

"`Holdernesse, 6th Duke, K.G., P.C.' half the alphabet! `Baron Beverley, Earl of Carston' dear me,

what a list! `Lord Lieutenant of Hallamshire since 1900. Married Edith, daughter of Sir Charles Appledore,

1888. Heir and only child, Lord Saltire. Owns about two hundred and fifty thousand acres. Minerals in

Lancashire and Wales. Address: Carlton House Terrace; Holdernesse Hall, Hallamshire; Carston Castle,

Bangor, Wales. Lord of the Admiralty, 1872; Chief Secretary of State for ' Well, well, this man is certainly

"The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes, that you take a very high line in

professional matters, and that you are prepared to work for the work's sake. I may tell you, however, that his

Grace has already intimated that a cheque for five thousand pounds will be handed over to the person who

can tell him where his son is, and another thousand to him who can name the man, or men, who have taken

"It is a princely offer," said Holmes. "Watson, I think that we shall accompany Dr. Huxtable back to the

North of England. And now, Dr. Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk you will kindly tell me what

has happened, when it happened, how it happened, and, finally, what Dr. Thorneycroft Huxtable, of the

Priory School, near Mackleton, has to do with the matter, and why he comes three days after an event the

Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had come back to his eyes and the colour to his

cheeks as he set himself with great vigour and lucidity to explain the situation.

"I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory school, of which I am the founder and

principal. `Huxtable's Sidelights on Horace' may possibly recall my name to your memories. The Priory is,

without exception, the best and most select preparatory school in England. Lord Leverstoke, the Earl of

Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames they all have entrusted their sons to me. But I felt that my school had

reached its zenith when, three weeks ago, the Duke of Holdernesse sent Mr. James Wilder, his secretary, with

the intimation that young Lord Saltire, ten years old, his only son and heir, was about to be committed to my

charge. Little did I think that this would be the prelude to the most crushing misfortune of my life.

"On May 1st the boy arrived, that being the beginning of the summer term. He was a charming youth, and he

soon fell into our ways. I may tell you I trust that I am not indiscreet, but halfconfidences are absurd in

such a case that he was not entirely happy at home. It is an open secret that the Duke's married life had not

been a peaceful one, and the matter had ended in a separation by mutual consent, the Duchess taking up her

residence in the South of France. This had occurred very shortly before, and the boy's sympathies are known

to have been strongly with his mother. He moped after her departure from Holdernesse Hall, and it was for

this reason that the Duke desired to send him to my establishment. In a fortnight the boy was quite at home

"He was last seen on the night of May 13th that is, the night of last Monday. His room was on the second

floor, and was approached through another larger room in which two boys were sleeping. These boys saw and

heard nothing, so that it is certain that young Saltire did not pass out that way. His window was open, and

there is a stout ivy plant leading to the ground. We could trace no footmarks below, but it is sure that this is

"His absence was discovered at seven o'clock on Tuesday morning. His bed had been slept in. He had dressed

himself fully before going off in his usual school suit of black Eton jacket and dark grey trousers. There were

no signs that anyone had entered the room, and it is quite certain that anything in the nature of cries, or a

struggle, would have been heard, since Caunter, the elder boy in the inner room, is a very light sleeper.

"When Lord Saltire's disappearance was discovered I at once called a roll of the whole establishment, boys,

masters, and servants. It was then that we ascertained that Lord Saltire had not been alone in his flight.

Heidegger, the German master, was missing. His room was on the second floor, at the farther end of the

building, facing the same way as Lord Saltire's. His bed had also been slept in; but he had apparently gone

away partly dressed, since his shirt and socks were lying on the floor. He had undoubtedly let himself down

by the ivy, for we could see the marks of his feet where he had landed on the lawn. His bicycle was kept in a

"He had been with me for two years, and came with the best references; but he was a silent, morose man, not

very popular either with masters or boys. No trace could be found of the fugitives, and now on Thursday

morning we are as ignorant as we were on Tuesday. Inquiry was, of course, made at once at Holdernesse

Hall. It is only a few miles away, and we imagined that in some sudden attack of homesickness he had gone

back to his father; but nothing had been heard of him. The Duke is greatly agitated and as to me, you have

seen yourselves the state of nervous prostration to which the suspense and the responsibility have reduced

me. Mr. Holmes, if ever you put forward your full powers, I implore you to do so now, for never in your life

Sherlock Holmes had listened with the utmost intentness to the statement of the unhappy schoolmaster. His

drawn brows and the deep furrow between them showed that he needed no exhortation to concentrate all his

attention upon a problem which, apart from the tremendous interests involved, must appeal so directly to his

love of the complex and the unusual. He now drew out his notebook and jotted down one or two

"You have been very remiss in not coming to me sooner," said he, severely. "You start me on my

investigation with a very serious handicap. It is inconceivable, for example, that this ivy and this lawn would

"I am not to blame, Mr. Holmes. His Grace was extremely desirous to avoid all public scandal. He was afraid

of his family unhappiness being dragged before the world. He has a deep horror of anything of the kind."

"Yes, sir, and it has proved most disappointing. An apparent clue was at once obtained, since a boy and a

young man were reported to have been seen leaving a neighbouring station by an early train. Only last night

we had news that the couple had been hunted down in Liverpool, and they prove to have no connection

whatever with the matter in hand. Then it was that in my despair and disappointment, after a sleepless night, I

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

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

"And yet the problem should be capable of ultimate solution. I shall be very happy to look into it. Have you

been able to trace any connection between the missing boy and this German master?"

"Well, now, you do not mean to seriously suggest that this German rode off upon a bicycle in the dead of the

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

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

"Would he not have hidden A COUPLE had he desired to give the idea that they had gone off upon them?"

"Of course he would. The blind theory won't do. But the incident is an admirable startingpoint for an

investigation. After all, a bicycle is not an easy thing to conceal or to destroy. One other question. Did anyone

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

"You see the point of my questions, of course. Either the boy was carried off by force or he went of his own

free will. In the latter case you would expect that some prompting from outside would be needed to make so

young a lad do such a thing. If he has had no visitors, that prompting must have come in letters. Hence I try to

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

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

"His Grace is never very friendly with anyone. He is completely immersed in large public questions, and is

rather inaccessible to all ordinary emotions. But he was always kind to the boy in his own way."

"I have had some confidential talks with Mr. James Wilder, his Grace's secretary. It was he who gave me the

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

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

"I will order a fourwheeler. In a quarter of an hour we shall be at your service. If you are telegraphing home,

Mr. Huxtable, it would be well to allow the people in your neighbourhood to imagine that the inquiry is still

going on in Liverpool, or wherever else that red herring led your pack. In the meantime I will do a little quiet

work at your own doors, and perhaps the scent is not so cold but that two old hounds like Watson and myself

That evening found us in the cold, bracing atmosphere of the Peak country, in which Dr. Huxtable's famous

school is situated. It was already dark when we reached it. A card was lying on the hall table, and the butler

whispered something to his master, who turned to us with agitation in every heavy feature.

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

I was, of course, familiar with the pictures of the famous statesman, but the man himself was very different

from his representation. He was a tall and stately person, scrupulously dressed, with a drawn, thin face, and a

nose which was grotesquely curved and long. His complexion was of a dead pallor, which was more startling

by contrast with a long, dwindling beard of vivid red, which flowed down over his white waistcoat, with his

watchchain gleaming through its fringe. Such was the stately presence who looked stonily at us from the

centre of Dr. Huxtable's hearthrug. Beside him stood a very young man, whom I understood to be Wilder, the

private secretary. He was small, nervous, alert, with intelligent, lightblue eyes and mobile features. It was he

"I called this morning, Dr. Huxtable, too late to prevent you from starting for London. I learned that your

object was to invite Mr. Sherlock Holmes to undertake the conduct of this case. His Grace is surprised, Dr.

"You are well aware, Dr. Huxtable, that his Grace is particularly anxious to avoid all public scandal. He

"The matter can be easily remedied," said the browbeaten doctor; "Mr. Sherlock Holmes can return to

"Hardly that, Doctor, hardly that," said Holmes, in his blandest voice. "This northern air is invigorating and

pleasant, so I propose to spend a few days upon your moors, and to occupy my mind as best I may. Whether I

have the shelter of your roof or of the village inn is, of course, for you to decide."

I could see that the unfortunate doctor was in the last stage of indecision, from which he was rescued by the

deep, sonorous voice of the redbearded Duke, which boomed out like a dinnergong.

"I agree with Mr. Wilder, Dr. Huxtable, that you would have done wisely to consult me. But since Mr.

Holmes has already been taken into your confidence, it would indeed be absurd that we should not avail

ourselves of his services. Far from going to the inn, Mr. Holmes, I should be pleased if you would come and

"I thank your Grace. For the purposes of my investigation I think that it would be wiser for me to remain at

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

"It will probably be necessary for me to see you at the Hall," said Holmes. "I would only ask you now, sir,

whether you have formed any explanation in your own mind as to the mysterious disappearance of your

"Excuse me if I allude to that which is painful to you, but I have no alternative. Do you think that the Duchess

"The other most obvious explanation is that the child has been kidnapped for the purpose of levying ransom.

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

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

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

"His Grace is not in the habit of posting letters himself," said he. "This letter was laid with others upon the

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

"For my own part," the Duke continued, "I have advised the police to turn their attention to the South of

France. I have already said that I do not believe that the Duchess would encourage so monstrous an action,

but the lad had the most wrongheaded opinions, and it is possible that he may have fled to her, aided and

abetted by this German. I think, Dr. Huxtable, that we will now return to the Hall."

I could see that there were other questions which Holmes would have wished to put; but the nobleman's

abrupt manner showed that the interview was at an end. It was evident that to his intensely aristocratic nature

this discussion of his intimate family affairs with a stranger was most abhorrent, and that he feared lest every

fresh question would throw a fiercer light into the discreetly shadowed corners of his ducal history.

When the nobleman and his secretary had left, my friend flung himself at once with characteristic eagerness

The boy's chamber was carefully examined, and yielded nothing save the absolute conviction that it was only

through the window that he could have escaped. The German master's room and effects gave no further clue.

In his case a trailer of ivy had given way under his weight, and we saw by the light of a lantern the mark on

the lawn where his heels had come down. That one dint in the short green grass was the only material witness

Sherlock Holmes left the house alone, and only returned after eleven. He had obtained a large ordnance map

of the neighbourhood, and this he brought into my room, where he laid it out on the bed, and, having

balanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smoke over it, and occasionally to point out objects of

"This case grows upon me, Watson," said he. "There are decidedly some points of interest in connection with

it. In this early stage I want you to realize those geographical features which may have a good deal to do with

"Look at this map. This dark square is the Priory School. I'll put a pin in it. Now, this line is the main road.

You see that it runs east and west past the school, and you see also that there is no side road for a mile either

"By a singular and happy chance we are able to some extent to check what passed along this road during the

night in question. At this point, where my pipe is now resting, a country constable was on duty from twelve

to six. It is, as you perceive, the first cross road on the east side. This man declares that he was not absent

from his post for an instant, and he is positive that neither boy nor man could have gone that way unseen. I

have spoken with this policeman tonight, and he appears to me to be a perfectly reliable person. That blocks

this end. We have now to deal with the other. There is an inn here, the Red Bull, the landlady of which was

ill. She had sent to Mackleton for a doctor, but he did not arrive until morning, being absent at another case.

The people at the inn were alert all night, awaiting his coming, and one or other of them seems to have

continually had an eye upon the road. They declare that no one passed. If their evidence is good, then we are

fortunate enough to be able to block the west, and also to be able to say that the fugitives did NOT use the

"Quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently. To continue our reasoning: if these people did not go by the

road, they must have traversed the country to the north of the house or to the south of the house. That is

certain. Let us weigh the one against the other. On the south of the house is, as you perceive, a large district

of arable land, cut up into small fields, with stone walls between them. There, I admit that a bicycle is

impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn to the country on the north. Here there lies a grove of trees,

marked as the `Ragged Shaw,' and on the farther side stretches a great rolling moor, Lower Gill Moor,

extending for ten miles and sloping gradually upwards. Here, at one side of this wilderness, is Holdernesse

Hall, ten miles by road, but only six across the moor. It is a peculiarly desolate plain. A few moor farmers

have small holdings, where they rear sheep and cattle. Except these, the plover and the curlew are the only

inhabitants until you come to the Chesterfield high road. There is a church there, you see, a few cottages, and

an inn. Beyond that the hills become precipitous. Surely it is here to the north that our quest must lie."

"Well, well!" said Holmes, impatiently. "A good cyclist does not need a high road. The moor is intersected

There was an agitated knock at the door, and an instant afterwards Dr. Huxtable was in the room. In his hand

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

"In the van of the gipsies who camped on the moor. They left on Tuesday. Today the police traced them

"They shuffled and lied said that they found it on the moor on Tuesday morning. They know where he is,

the rascals! Thank goodness, they are all safe under lock and key. Either the fear of the law or the Duke's

"So far, so good," said Holmes, when the doctor had at last left the room. "It at least bears out the theory that

it is on the side of the Lower Gill Moor that we must hope for results. The police have really done nothing

locally, save the arrest of these gipsies. Look here, Watson! There is a watercourse across the moor. You see

it marked here in the map. In some parts it widens into a morass. This is particularly so in the region between

Holdernesse Hall and the school. It is vain to look elsewhere for tracks in this dry weather; but at THAT point

there is certainly a chance of some record being left. I will call you early tomorrow morning, and you and I

The day was just breaking when I woke to find the long, thin form of Holmes by my bedside. He was fully

"I have done the lawn and the bicycle shed," said he. "I have also had a ramble through the Ragged Shaw.

Now, Watson, there is cocoa ready in the next room. I must beg you to hurry, for we have a great day before

His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration of the master workman who sees his work lie

ready before him. A very different Holmes, this active, alert man, from the introspective and pallid dreamer

of Baker Street. I felt, as I looked upon that supple figure, alive with nervous energy, that it was indeed a

And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. With high hopes we struck across the peaty, russet moor,

intersected with a thousand sheep paths, until we came to the broad, lightgreen belt which marked the

morass between us and Holdernesse. Certainly, if the lad had gone homewards, he must have passed this, and

he could not pass it without leaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. With a

darkening face my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observant of every muddy stain upon the mossy

surface. Sheepmarks there were in profusion, and at one place, some miles down, cows had left their tracks.

"Check number one," said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rolling expanse of the moor. "There is another

morass down yonder and a narrow neck between. Halloa! halloa! halloa! what have we here?"

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

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

"A bicycle, certainly, but not THE bicycle," said he. "I am familiar with fortytwo different impressions left

by tyres. This, as you perceive, is a Dunlop, with a patch upon the outer cover. Heidegger's tyres were

Palmer's, leaving longitudinal stripes. Aveling, the mathematical master, was sure upon the point. Therefore,

"Possibly, if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession. But this we have utterly failed to do.

This track, as you perceive, was made by a rider who was going from the direction of the school."

"No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is, of course, the hind wheel, upon which the

weight rests. You perceive several places where it has passed across and obliterated the more shallow mark of

the front one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school. It may or may not be connected with our

We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks as we emerged from the boggy portion of the

moor. Following the path backwards, we picked out another spot, where a spring trickled across it. Here,

once again, was the mark of the bicycle, though nearly obliterated by the hoofs of cows. After that there was

no sign, but the path ran right on into Ragged Shaw, the wood which backed on to the school. From this

wood the cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down on a boulder and rested his chin in his hands. I had

"Well, well," said he, at last. "It is, of course, possible that a cunning man might change the tyre of his

bicycle in order to leave unfamiliar tracks. A criminal who was capable of such a thought is a man whom I

should be proud to do business with. We will leave this question undecided and hark back to our morass

We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portion of the moor, and soon our

perseverance was gloriously rewarded. Right across the lower part of the bog lay a miry path. Holmes gave a

cry of delight as he approached it. An impression like a fine bundle of telegraph wires ran down the centre of

"Here is Herr Heidegger, sure enough!" cried Holmes, exultantly. "My reasoning seems to have been pretty

"But we have a long way still to go. Kindly walk clear of the path. Now let us follow the trail. I fear that it

We found, however, as we advanced that this portion of the moor is intersected with soft patches, and, though

we frequently lost sight of the track, we always succeeded in picking it up once more.

"Do you observe," said Holmes, "that the rider is now undoubtedly forcing the pace? There can be no doubt

of it. Look at this impression, where you get both tyres clear. The one is as deep as the other. That can only

mean that the rider is throwing his weight on to the handlebar, as a man does when he is sprinting. By Jove!

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

Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horror I perceived that the yellow blossoms

were all dabbled with crimson. On the path, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood.

"Bad!" said Holmes. "Bad! Stand clear, Watson! Not an unnecessary footstep! What do I read here? He fell

wounded, he stood up, he remounted, he proceeded. But there is no other track. Cattle on this side path. He

was surely not gored by a bull? Impossible! But I see no traces of anyone else. We must push on, Watson.

Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tyre began to curve fantastically upon the wet and

shining path. Suddenly, as I looked ahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorse

bushes. Out of them we dragged a bicycle, Palmertyred, one pedal bent, and the whole front of it horribly

smeared and slobbered with blood. On the other side of the bushes a shoe was projecting. We ran round, and

there lay the unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, full bearded, with spectacles, one glass of which had been

knocked out. The cause of his death was a frightful blow upon the head, which had crushed in part of his

skull. That he could have gone on after receiving such an injury said much for the vitality and courage of the

man. He wore shoes, but no socks, and his open coat disclosed a nightshirt beneath it. It was undoubtedly

Holmes turned the body over reverently, and examined it with great attention. He then sat in deep thought for

a time, and I could see by his ruffled brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion, advanced us much

"It is a little difficult to know what to do, Watson," said he, at last. "My own inclinations are to push this

inquiry on, for we have already lost so much time that we cannot afford to waste another hour. On the other

hand, we are bound to inform the police of the discovery, and to see that this poor fellow's body is looked

"But I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit! There is a fellow cutting peat up yonder. Bring him

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

"Now, Watson," said he, "we have picked up two clues this morning. One is the bicycle with the Palmer tyre,

and we see what that has led to. The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start to

investigate that, let us try to realize what we DO know so as to make the most of it, and to separate the

"First of all I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left of his own free will. He got down from his

"Well, now, let us turn to this unfortunate German master. The boy was fully dressed when he fled.

Therefore, he foresaw what he would do. But the German went without his socks. He certainly acted on very

"Why did he go? Because, from his bedroom window, he saw the flight of the boy. Because he wished to

overtake him and bring him back. He seized his bicycle, pursued the lad, and in pursuing him met his death."

"Now I come to the critical part of my argument. The natural action of a man in pursuing a little boy would

be to run after him. He would know that he could overtake him. But the German does not do so. He turns to

his bicycle. I am told that he was an excellent cyclist. He would not do this if he did not see that the boy had

"Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five miles from the school not by a bullet, mark

you, which even a lad might conceivably discharge, but by a savage blow dealt by a vigorous arm. The lad,

then, HAD a companion in his flight. And the flight was a swift one, since it took five miles before an expert

cyclist could overtake them. Yet we survey the ground round the scene of the tragedy. What do we find? A

few cattle tracks, nothing more. I took a wide sweep round, and there is no path within fifty yards. Another

cyclist could have had nothing to do with the actual murder. Nor were there any human footmarks."

"Admirable!" he said. "A most illuminating remark. It IS impossible as I state it, and therefore I must in some

respect have stated it wrong. Yet you saw for yourself. Can you suggest any fallacy?"

"Tut, tut; we have solved some worse problems. At least we have plenty of material, if we can only use it.

Come, then, and, having exhausted the Palmer, let us see what the Dunlop with the patched cover has to offer

We picked up the track and followed it onwards for some distance; but soon the moor rose into a long,

heathertufted curve, and we left the watercourse behind us. No further help from tracks could be hoped for.

At the spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tyre it might equally have led to Holdernesse Hall, the stately

towers of which rose some miles to our left, or to a low, grey village which lay in front of us, and marked the

As we approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with the sign of a gamecock above the door, Holmes gave

a sudden groan and clutched me by the shoulder to save himself from falling. He had had one of those violent

strains of the ankle which leave a man helpless. With difficulty he limped up to the door, where a squat, dark,

"Who are you, and how do you get my name so pat?" the countryman answered, with a suspicious flash of a

"Well, it's printed on the board above your head. It's easy to see a man who is master of his own house. I

Mr. Reuben Hayes's manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took it with admirable goodhumour.

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

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

"Pals of the Dook, I suppose?" said the landlord, surveying our mudstained garments with ironical eyes.

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

"I've less reason to wish the Dook well than most men," said he, "for I was his head coachman once, and

cruel bad he treated me. It was him that sacked me without a character on the word of a lying cornchandler.

But I'm glad to hear that the young lord was heard of in Liverpool, and I'll help you to take the news to the

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

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

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

When we were left alone in the stoneflagged kitchen it was astonishing how rapidly that sprained ankle

recovered. It was nearly nightfall, and we had eaten nothing since early morning, so that we spent some time

over our meal. Holmes was lost in thought, and once or twice he walked over to the window and stared

earnestly out. It opened on to a squalid courtyard. In the far corner was a smithy, where a grimy lad was at

work. On the other side were the stables. Holmes had sat down again after one of these excursions, when he

"By Heaven, Watson, I believe that I've got it!" he cried. "Yes, yes, it must be so. Watson, do you remember

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

"Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, but never a cow on the whole moor; very

"Now, Watson, make an effort; throw your mind back! Can you see those tracks upon the path?"

"Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes like that, Watson" he arranged a number of breadcrumbs

in this fashion : : : : : "and sometimes like this" : . : . : . : . "and occasionally like this" . ` . ` .

"But I can. I could swear to it. However, we will go back at our leisure and verify it. What a blind beetle I

"Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters, and gallops. By George, Watson, it was no brain of a

country publican that thought out such a blind as that! The coast seems to be clear, save for that lad in the

There were two roughhaired, unkempt horses in the tumbledown stable. Holmes raised the hind leg of one

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

The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes's eye darting to right and left among the litter

of iron and wood which was scattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we heard a step behind us, and

there was the landlord, his heavy eyebrows drawn over his savage eyes, his swarthy features convulsed with

passion. He held a short, metalheaded stick in his hand, and he advanced in so menacing a fashion that I was

"Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes," said Holmes, coolly, "one might think that you were afraid of our finding

The man mastered himself with a violent effort, and his grim mouth loosened into a false laugh, which was

"You're welcome to all you can find out in my smithy," said he. "But look here, mister, I don't care for folk

poking about my place without my leave, so the sooner you pay your score and get out of this the better I

"All right, Mr. Hayes no harm meant," said Holmes. "We have been having a look at your horses, but I

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

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

"We were warm, as the children say, at that inn," said he. "I seem to grow colder every step that I take away

"I am convinced," said I, "that this Reuben Hayes knows all about it. A more selfevident villain I never

"Oh! he impressed you in that way, did he? There are the horses, there is the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting

place, this Fighting Cock. I think we shall have another look at it in an unobtrusive way."

A long, sloping hillside, dotted with grey limestone boulders, stretched behind us. We had turned off the

road, and were making our way up the hill, when, looking in the direction of Holdernesse Hall, I saw a cyclist

"Get down, Watson!" cried Holmes, with a heavy hand upon my shoulder. We had hardly sunk from view

when the man flew past us on the road. Amid a rolling cloud of dust I caught a glimpse of a pale, agitated

face a face with horror in every lineament, the mouth open, the eyes staring wildly in front. It was like

some strange caricature of the dapper James Wilder whom we had seen the night before.

We scrambled from rock to rock until in a few moments we had made our way to a point from which we

could see the front door of the inn. Wilder's bicycle was leaning against the wall beside it. No one was

moving about the house, nor could we catch a glimpse of any faces at the windows. Slowly the twilight crept

down as the sun sank behind the high towers of Holdernesse Hall. Then in the gloom we saw the two

sidelamps of a trap light up in the stable yard of the inn, and shortly afterwards heard the rattle of hoofs, as

it wheeled out into the road and tore off at a furious pace in the direction of Chesterfield.

"A single man in a dogcart, so far as I could see. Well, it certainly was not Mr. James Wilder, for there he is

A red square of light had sprung out of the darkness. In the middle of it was the black figure of the secretary,

his head advanced, peering out into the night. It was evident that he was expecting someone. Then at last

there were steps in the road, a second figure was visible for an instant against the light, the door shut, and all

was black once more. Five minutes later a lamp was lit in a room upon the first floor.

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

"Quite so. These are what one may call the private guests. Now, what in the world is Mr. James Wilder doing

in that den at this hour of night, and who is the companion who comes to meet him there? Come, Watson, we

Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of the inn. The bicycle still leaned against the

wall. Holmes struck a match and held it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell upon a

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

An instant later his feet were on my shoulders. But he was hardly up before he was down again.

"Come, my friend," said he, "our day's work has been quite long enough. I think that we have gathered all

that we can. It's a long walk to the school, and the sooner we get started the better."

He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, nor would he enter the school when he

reached it, but went on to Mackleton Station, whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard him

consoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master's death, and later still he entered my room as

alert and vigorous as he had been when he started in the morning. "All goes well, my friend," said he. "I

promise that before tomorrow evening we shall have reached the solution of the mystery."

At eleven o'clock next morning my friend and I were walking up the famous yew avenue of Holdernesse

Hall. We were ushered through the magnificent Elizabethan doorway and into his Grace's study. There we

found Mr. James Wilder, demure and courtly, but with some trace of that wild terror of the night before still

"You have come to see his Grace? I am sorry; but the fact is that the Duke is far from well. He has been very

much upset by the tragic news. We received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable yesterday afternoon, which told us

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

After half an hour's delay the great nobleman appeared. His face was more cadaverous than ever, his

shoulders had rounded, and he seemed to me to be an altogether older man than he had been the morning

before. He greeted us with a stately courtesy and seated himself at his desk, his red beard streaming down on

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

"The fact is, your Grace," said he, "that my colleague, Dr. Watson, and myself had an assurance from Dr.

Huxtable that a reward had been offered in this case. I should like to have this confirmed from your own

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

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

"Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those who may have taken him away, but also those

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

My friend rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance of avidity which was a surprise to me, who

"I fancy that I see your Grace's chequebook upon the table," said he. "I should be glad if you would make

me out a cheque for six thousand pounds. It would be as well, perhaps, for you to cross it. The Capital and

His Grace sat very stern and upright in his chair, and looked stonily at my friend.

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

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

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

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

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

Never shall I forget the Duke's appearance as he sprang up and clawed with his hands like one who is sinking

into an abyss. Then, with an extraordinary effort of aristocratic selfcommand, he sat down and sank his face

"I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes. I am about to write your cheque, however unwelcome the

information which you have gained may be to me. When the offer was first made I little thought the turn

which events might take. But you and your friend are men of discretion, Mr. Holmes?"

"I must put it plainly, Mr. Holmes. If only you two know of this incident, there is no reason why it should go

any farther. I think twelve thousand pounds is the sum that I owe you, is it not?"

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

"But James knew nothing of that. You cannot hold him responsible for that. It was the work of this brutal

"I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks upon a crime he is morally guilty of any other

"Morally, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right. But surely not in the eyes of the law. A man cannot be

condemned for a murder at which he was not present, and which he loathes and abhors as much as you do.

The instant that he heard of it he made a complete confession to me, so filled was he with horror and remorse.

He lost not an hour in breaking entirely with the murderer. Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him you must

save him! I tell you that you must save him!" The Duke had dropped the last attempt at selfcommand, and

was pacing the room with a convulsed face and with his clenched hands raving in the air. At last he mastered

himself and sat down once more at his desk. "I appreciate your conduct in coming here before you spoke to

anyone else," said he. "At least, we may take counsel how far we can minimize this hideous scandal."

"Exactly," said Holmes. "I think, your Grace, that this can only be done by absolute and complete frankness

between us. I am disposed to help your Grace to the best of my ability; but in order to do so I must

understand to the last detail how the matter stands. I realize that your words applied to Mr. James Wilder, and

"Your Grace can hardly have heard of any small reputation which I possess, or you would not imagine that it

is so easy to escape me. Mr. Reuben Hayes was arrested at Chesterfield on my information at eleven o'clock

last night. I had a telegram from the head of the local police before I left the school this morning."

"You seem to have powers that are hardly human," said he. "So Reuben Hayes is taken? I am right glad to

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

"I will conceal nothing from you. I agree with you that complete frankness, however painful it may be to me,

is the best policy in this desperate situation to which James's folly and jealousy have reduced us. When I was

a very young man, Mr. Holmes, I loved with such a love as comes only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady

marriage, but she refused it on the grounds that such a match might mar my career. Had she lived I would

certainly never have married anyone else. She died, and left this one child, whom for her sake I have

cherished and cared for. I could not acknowledge the paternity to the world; but I gave him the best of

educations, and since he came to manhood I have kept him near my person. He surprised my secret, and has

presumed ever since upon the claim which he has upon me and upon his power of provoking a scandal, which

would be abhorrent to me. His presence had something to do with the unhappy issue of my marriage. Above

all, he hated my young legitimate heir from the first with a persistent hatred. You may well ask me why,

under these circumstances, I still kept James under my roof. I answer that it was because I could see his

mother's face in his, and that for her dear sake there was no end to my longsuffering. All her pretty ways,

too there was not one of them which he could not suggest and bring back to my memory. I COULD not

send him away. But I feared so much lest he should do Arthur that is, Lord Saltire a mischief that I

"James came into contact with this fellow Hayes because the man was a tenant of mine, and James acted as

agent. The fellow was a rascal from the beginning; but in some extraordinary way James became intimate

with him. He had always a taste for low company. When James determined to kidnap Lord Saltire it was of

this man's service that he availed himself. You remember that I wrote to Arthur upon that last day. Well,

James opened the letter and inserted a note asking Arthur to meet him in a little wood called the Ragged

Shaw, which is near to the school. He used the Duchess's name, and in that way got the boy to come. That

evening James bicycled over I am telling you what he has himself confessed to me and he told Arthur,

whom he met in the wood, that his mother longed to see him, that she was awaiting him on the moor, and that

if he would come back into the wood at midnight he would find a man with a horse, who would take him to

her. Poor Arthur fell into the trap. He came to the appointment and found this fellow Hayes with a led pony.

Arthur mounted, and they set off together. It appears though this James only heard yesterday that they

were pursued, that Hayes struck the pursuer with his stick, and that the man died of his injuries. Hayes

brought Arthur to his publichouse, the Fighting Cock, where he was confined in an upper room, under the

care of Mrs. Hayes, who is a kindly woman, but entirely under the control of her brutal husband.

"Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first saw you two days ago. I had no more idea of the

truth than you. You will ask me what was James's motive in doing such a deed. I answer that there was a

great deal which was unreasoning and fanatical in the hatred which he bore my heir. In his view he should

himself have been heir of all my estates, and he deeply resented those social laws which made it impossible.

At the same time he had a definite motive also. He was eager that I should break the entail, and he was of

opinion that it lay in my power to do so. He intended to make a bargain with me to restore Arthur if I

would break the entail, and so make it possible for the estate to be left to him by will. He knew well that I

should never willingly invoke the aid of the police against him. I say that he would have proposed such a

bargain to me, but he did not actually do so, for events moved too quickly for him, and he had not time to put

"What brought all his wicked scheme to wreck was your discovery of this man Heidegger's dead body. James

was seized with horror at the news. It came to us yesterday as we sat together in this study. Dr. Huxtable had

sent a telegram. James was so overwhelmed with grief and agitation that my suspicions, which had never

been entirely absent, rose instantly to a certainty, and I taxed him with the deed. He made a complete

voluntary confession. Then he implored me to keep his secret for three days longer, so as to give his wretched

accomplice a chance of saving his guilty life. I yielded as I have always yielded to his prayers, and

instantly James hurried off to the Fighting Cock to warn Hayes and give him the means of flight. I could not

go there by daylight without provoking comment, but as soon as night fell I hurried off to see my dear Arthur.

I found him safe and well, but horrified beyond expression by the dreadful deed he had witnessed. In

deference to my promise, and much against my will, I consented to leave him there for three days under the

charge of Mrs. Hayes, since it was evident that it was impossible to inform the police where he was without

telling them also who was the murderer, and I could not see how that murderer could be punished without

ruin to my unfortunate James. You asked for frankness, Mr. Holmes, and I have taken you at your word, for I

have now told you everything without an attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Do you in turn be as

"I will," said Holmes. "In the first place, your Grace, I am bound to tell you that you have placed yourself in a

most serious position in the eyes of the law. You have condoned a felony and you have aided the escape of a

murderer; for I cannot doubt that any money which was taken by James Wilder to aid his accomplice in his

"This is indeed a most serious matter. Even more culpable in my opinion, your Grace, is your attitude

"What are promises to such people as these? You have no guarantee that he will not be spirited away again.

To humour your guilty elder son you have exposed your innocent younger son to imminent and unnecessary

The proud lord of Holdernesse was not accustomed to be so rated in his own ducal hall. The blood flushed

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

"You will be glad to hear," said Holmes, "that your young master is found. It is the Duke's desire that the

"Now," said Holmes, when the rejoicing lackey had disappeared, "having secured the future, we can afford to

be more lenient with the past. I am not in an official position, and there is no reason, so long as the ends of

justice are served, why I should disclose all that I know. As to Hayes I say nothing. The gallows awaits him,

and I would do nothing to save him from it. What he will divulge I cannot tell, but I have no doubt that your

Grace could make him understand that it is to his interest to be silent. From the police point of view he will

have kidnapped the boy for the purpose of ransom. If they do not themselves find it out I see no reason why I

should prompt them to take a broader point of view. I would warn your Grace, however, that the continued

"I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that he shall leave me for ever and go to seek his

"In that case, your Grace, since you have yourself stated that any unhappiness in your married life was caused

by his presence, I would suggest that you make such amends as you can to the Duchess, and that you try to

"In that case," said Holmes, rising, "I think that my friend and I can congratulate ourselves upon several most

happy results from our little visit to the North. There is one other small point upon which I desire some light.

This fellow Hayes had shod his horses with shoes which counterfeited the tracks of cows. Was it from Mr.

The Duke stood in thought for a moment, with a look of intense surprise on his face. Then he opened a door

and showed us into a large room furnished as a museum. He led the way to a glass case in a corner, and

"These shoes," it ran, "were dug up in the moat of Holdernesse Hall. They are for the use of horses; but they

are shaped below with a cloven foot of iron, so as to throw pursuers off the track. They are supposed to have

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

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

Holmes folded up his cheque and placed it carefully in his notebook. "I am a poor man," said he, as he

I HAVE never known my friend to be in better form, both mental and physical, than in the year '95. His

increasing fame had brought with it an immense practice, and I should be guilty of an indiscretion if I were

even to hint at the identity of some of the illustrious clients who crossed our humble threshold in Baker

Street. Holmes, however, like all great artists, lived for his art's sake, and, save in the case of the Duke of

Holdernesse, I have seldom known him claim any large reward for his inestimable services. So unworldly

was he or so capricious that he frequently refused his help to the powerful and wealthy where the

problem made no appeal to his sympathies, while he would devote weeks of most intense application to the

affairs of some humble client whose case presented those strange and dramatic qualities which appealed to

In this memorable year '95 a curious and incongruous succession of cases had engaged his attention, ranging

from his famous investigation of the sudden death of Cardinal Tosca an inquiry which was carried out by

him at the express desire of His Holiness the Pope down to his arrest of Wilson, the notorious

canarytrainer, which removed a plaguespot from the EastEnd of London. Close on the heels of these two

famous cases came the tragedy of Woodman's Lee, and the very obscure circumstances which surrounded the

death of Captain Peter Carey. No record of the doings of Mr. Sherlock Holmes would be complete which did

During the first week of July my friend had been absent so often and so long from our lodgings that I knew

he had something on hand. The fact that several roughlooking men called during that time and inquired for

Captain Basil made me understand that Holmes was working somewhere under one of the numerous

disguises and names with which he concealed his own formidable identity. He had at least five small refuges

in different parts of London in which he was able to change his personality. He said nothing of his business to

me, and it was not my habit to force a confidence. The first positive sign which he gave me of the direction

which his investigation was taking was an extraordinary one. He had gone out before breakfast, and I had sat

down to mine, when he strode into the room, his hat upon his head and a huge barbedheaded spear tucked

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

"And I return with an excellent appetite. There can be no question, my dear Watson, of the value of exercise

before breakfast. But I am prepared to bet that you will not guess the form that my exercise has taken."

"If you could have looked into Allardyce's back shop you would have seen a dead pig swung from a hook in

the ceiling, and a gentleman in his shirtsleeves furiously stabbing at it with this weapon. I was that energetic

person, and I have satisfied myself that by no exertion of my strength can I transfix the pig with a single

"Because it seemed to me to have an indirect bearing upon the mystery of Woodman's Lee. Ah, Hopkins, I

Our visitor was an exceedingly alert man, thirty years of age, dressed in a quiet tweed suit, but retaining the

erect bearing of one who was accustomed to official uniform. I recognised him at once as Stanley Hopkins, a

young police inspector for whose future Holmes had high hopes, while he in turn professed the admiration

and respect of a pupil for the scientific methods of the famous amateur. Hopkins's brow was clouded, and he

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

"I wish to heavens that you would, Mr. Holmes. It's my first big chance, and I am at my wit's end. For

"Well, well, it just happens that I have already read all the available evidence, including the report of the

inquest, with some care. By the way, what do you make of that tobaccopouch found on the scene of the

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

"No, sir, we could find no pipe; indeed, he smoked very little. And yet he might have kept some tobacco for

"No doubt. I only mention it because if I had been handling the case I should have been inclined to make that

the startingpoint of my investigation. However, my friend Dr. Watson knows nothing of this matter, and I

should be none the worse for hearing the sequence of events once more. Just give us some short sketch of the

"I have a few dates here which will give you the career of the dead man, Captain Peter Carey. He was born in

'45 fifty years of age. He was a most daring and successful seal and whale fisher. In 1883 he commanded

the steam sealer SEA UNICORN, of Dundee. He had then had several successful voyages in succession, and

in the following year, 1884, he retired. After that he travelled for some years, and finally he bought a small

place called Woodman's Lee, near Forest Row, in Sussex. There he has lived for six years, and there he died

"There were some most singular points about the man. In ordinary life he was a strict Puritan a silent,

gloomy fellow. His household consisted of his wife, his daughter, aged twenty, and two female servants.

These last were continually changing, for it was never a very cheery situation, and sometimes it became past

all bearing. The man was an intermittent drunkard, and when he had the fit on him he was a perfect fiend. He

has been known to drive his wife and his daughter out of doors in the middle of the night, and flog them

through the park until the whole village outside the gates was aroused by their screams.

"He was summoned once for a savage assault upon the old vicar, who had called upon him to remonstrate

with him upon his conduct. In short, Mr. Holmes, you would go far before you found a more dangerous man

than Peter Carey, and I have heard that he bore the same character when he commanded his ship. He was

known in the trade as Black Peter, and the name was given him, not only on account of his swarthy features

and the colour of his huge beard, but for the humours which were the terror of all around him. I need not say

that he was loathed and avoided by every one of his neighbours, and that I have not heard one single word of

"You must have read in the account of the inquest about the man's cabin, Mr. Holmes; but perhaps your

friend here has not heard of it. He had built himself a wooden outhouse he always called it `the cabin' a

few hundred yards from his house, and it was here that he slept every night. It was a little, singleroomed hut,

sixteen feet by ten. He kept the key in his pocket, made his own bed, cleaned it himself, and allowed no other

foot to cross the threshold. There are small windows on each side, which were covered by curtains and never

opened. One of these windows was turned towards the high road, and when the light burned in it at night the

folk used to point it out to each other and wonder what Black Peter was doing in there. That's the window,

Mr. Holmes, which gave us one of the few bits of positive evidence that came out at the inquest.

"You remember that a stonemason, named Slater, walking from Forest Row about one o'clock in the morning

two days before the murder stopped as he passed the grounds and looked at the square of light still

shining among the trees. He swears that the shadow of a man's head turned sideways was clearly visible on

the blind, and that this shadow was certainly not that of Peter Carey, whom he knew well. It was that of a

bearded man, but the beard was short and bristled forwards in a way very different from that of the captain.

So he says, but he had been two hours in the publichouse, and it is some distance from the road to the

window. Besides, this refers to the Monday, and the crime was done upon the Wednesday.

"On the Tuesday Peter Carey was in one of his blackest moods, flushed with drink and as savage as a

dangerous wild beast. He roamed about the house, and the women ran for it when they heard him coming.

Late in the evening he went down to his own hut. About two o'clock the following morning his daughter, who

slept with her window open, heard a most fearful yell from that direction, but it was no unusual thing for him

to bawl and shout when he was in drink, so no notice was taken. On rising at seven one of the maids noticed

that the door of the hut was open, but so great was the terror which the man caused that it was midday before

anyone would venture down to see what had become of him. Peeping into the open door they saw a sight

which sent them flying with white faces into the village. Within an hour I was on the spot and had taken over

"Well, I have fairly steady nerves, as you know, Mr. Holmes, but I give you my word that I got a shake when

I put my head into that little house. It was droning like a harmonium with the flies and bluebottles, and the

floor and walls were like a slaughterhouse. He had called it a cabin, and a cabin it was sure enough, for you

would have thought that you were in a ship. There was a bunk at one end, a seachest, maps and charts, a

picture of the SEA UNICORN, a line of logbooks on a shelf, all exactly as one would expect to find it in a

captain's room. And there in the middle of it was the man himself, his face twisted like a lost soul in torment,

and his great brindled beard stuck upwards in his agony. Right through his broad breast a steel harpoon had

been driven, and it had sunk deep into the wood of the wall behind him. He was pinned like a beetle on a

card. Of course, he was quite dead, and had been so from the instant that he had uttered that last yell of

"I know your methods, sir, and I applied them. Before I permitted anything to be moved I examined most

carefully the ground outside, and also the floor of the room. There were no footmarks."

"My good Hopkins, I have investigated many crimes, but I have never yet seen one which was committed by

a flying creature. As long as the criminal remains upon two legs so long must there be some indentation,

some abrasion, some trifling displacement which can be detected by the scientific searcher. It is incredible

that this bloodbespattered room contained no trace which could have aided us. I understand, however, from

"I was a fool not to call you in at the time, Mr. Holmes. However, that's past praying for now. Yes, there were

several objects in the room which called for special attention. One was the harpoon with which the deed was

committed. It had been snatched down from a rack on the wall. Two others remained there, and there was a

vacant place for the third. On the stock was engraved `Ss. SEA UNICORN, Dundee.' This seemed to

establish that the crime had been done in a moment of fury, and that the murderer had seized the first weapon

which came in his way. The fact that the crime was committed at two in the morning, and yet Peter Carey

was fully dressed, suggested that he had an appointment with the murderer, which is borne out by the fact that

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

"Yes; there was a tantalus containing brandy and whisky on the seachest. It is of no importance to us,

"For all that its presence has some significance," said Holmes. "However, let us hear some more about the

"It lay in the middle. It was of coarse sealskin the straighthaired skin, with a leather thong to bind it.

Inside was `P.C.' on the flap. There was half an ounce of strong ship's tobacco in it."

Stanley Hopkins drew from his pocket a drabcovered notebook. The outside was rough and worn, the

leaves discoloured. On the first page were written the initials "J.H.N." and the date "1883." Holmes laid it on

the table and examined it in his minute way, while Hopkins and I gazed over each shoulder. On the second

page were the printed letters "C.P.R.," and then came several sheets of numbers. Another heading was

Argentine, another Costa Rica, and another San Paulo, each with pages of signs and figures after it.

"They appear to be lists of Stock Exchange securities. I thought that `J.H.N.' were the initials of a broker, and

Stanley Hopkins swore between his teeth and struck his thigh with his clenched hand.

"What a fool I have been!" he cried. "Of course, it is as you say. Then `J.H.N.' are the only initials we have to

solve. I have already examined the old Stock Exchange lists, and I can find no one in 1883 either in the

House or among the outside brokers whose initials correspond with these. Yet I feel that the clue is the most

important one that I hold. You will admit, Mr. Holmes, that there is a possibility that these initials are those

of the second person who was present in other words, of the murderer. I would also urge that the

introduction into the case of a document relating to large masses of valuable securities gives us for the first

Sherlock Holmes's face showed that he was thoroughly taken aback by this new development.

"I must admit both your points," said he. "I confess that this notebook, which did not appear at the inquest,

modifies any views which I may have formed. I had come to a theory of the crime in which I can find no

place for this. Have you endeavoured to trace any of the securities here mentioned?"

"Inquiries are now being made at the offices, but I fear that the complete register of the stockholders of these

South American concerns is in South America, and that some weeks must elapse before we can trace the

"Yes, sir, it is a bloodstain. I told you that I picked the book off the floor."

"Which proves, of course, that the book was dropped after the crime was committed."

"Exactly, Mr. Holmes. I appreciated that point, and I conjectured that it was dropped by the murderer in his

"I suppose that none of these securities have been found among the property of the dead man?"

"Dear me, it is certainly a very interesting case. Then there was a knife, was there not?"

"A sheathknife, still in its sheath. It lay at the feet of the dead man. Mrs. Carey has identified it as being her

"Well," said he, at last, "I suppose I shall have to come out and have a look at it."

"It would have been an easier task a week ago," said he. "But even now my visit may not be entirely fruitless.

Watson, if you can spare the time I should be very glad of your company. If you will call a fourwheeler,

Alighting at the small wayside station, we drove for some miles through the remains of widespread woods,

which were once part of that great forest which for so long held the Saxon invaders at bay the

impenetrable "weald," for sixty years the bulwark of Britain. Vast sections of it have been cleared, for this is

the seat of the first ironworks of the country, and the trees have been felled to smelt the ore. Now the richer

fields of the North have absorbed the trade, and nothing save these ravaged groves and great scars in the earth

show the work of the past. Here in a clearing upon the green slope of a hill stood a long, low stone house,

approached by a curving drive running through the fields. Nearer the road, and surrounded on three sides by

bushes, was a small outhouse, one window and the door facing in our direction. It was the scene of the

Stanley Hopkins led us first to the house, where he introduced us to a haggard, greyhaired woman, the

widow of the murdered man, whose gaunt and deeplined face, with the furtive look of terror in the depths of

her redrimmed eyes, told of the years of hardship and illusage which she had endured. With her was her

daughter, a pale, fairhaired girl, whose eyes blazed defiantly at us as she told us that she was glad that her

father was dead, and that she blessed the hand which had struck him down. It was a terrible household that

Black Peter Carey had made for himself, and it was with a sense of relief that we found ourselves in the

sunlight again and making our way along a path which had been worn across the fields by the feet of the dead

The outhouse was the simplest of dwellings, woodenwalled, shingleroofed, one window beside the door

and one on the farther side. Stanley Hopkins drew the key from his pocket, and had stooped to the lock, when

There could be no doubt of the fact. The woodwork was cut and the scratches showed white through the

paint, as if they had been that instant done. Holmes had been examining the window.

"Someone has tried to force this also. Whoever it was has failed to make his way in. He must have been a

"This is a most extraordinary thing," said the inspector; "I could swear that these marks were not here

"Very unlikely. Few of them would dare to set foot in the grounds, far less try to force their way into the

"It is very probable. He came expecting to find the door open. He tried to get in with the blade of a very small

"So I should say. It will be our fault if we are not there to receive him. Meanwhile, let me see the inside of the

The traces of the tragedy had been removed, but the furniture within the little room still stood as it had been

on the night of the crime. For two hours, with most intense concentration, Holmes examined every object in

turn, but his face showed that his quest was not a successful one. Once only he paused in his patient

"Something has been taken. There is less dust in this corner of the shelf than elsewhere. It may have been a

book lying on its side. It may have been a box. Well, well, I can do nothing more. Let us walk in these

beautiful woods, Watson, and give a few hours to the birds and the flowers. We shall meet you here later,

Hopkins, and see if we can come to closer quarters with the gentleman who has paid this visit in the night."

It was past eleven o'clock when we formed our little ambuscade. Hopkins was for leaving the door of the hut

open, but Holmes was of the opinion that this would rouse the suspicions of the stranger. The lock was a

perfectly simple one, and only a strong blade was needed to push it back. Holmes also suggested that we

should wait, not inside the hut, but outside it among the bushes which grew round the farther window. In this

way we should be able to watch our man if he struck a light, and see what his object was in this stealthy

It was a long and melancholy vigil, and yet brought with it something of the thrill which the hunter feels

when he lies beside the water pool and waits for the coming of the thirsty beast of prey. What savage creature

was it which might steal upon us out of the darkness? Was it a fierce tiger of crime, which could only be

taken fighting hard with flashing fang and claw, or would it prove to be some skulking jackal, dangerous only

In absolute silence we crouched amongst the bushes, waiting for whatever might come. At first the steps of a

few belated villagers, or the sound of voices from the village, lightened our vigil; but one by one these

interruptions died away and an absolute stillness fell upon us, save for the chimes of the distant church, which

told us of the progress of the night, and for the rustle and whisper of a fine rain falling amid the foliage which

Halfpast two had chimed, and it was the darkest hour which precedes the dawn, when we all started as a low

but sharp click came from the direction of the gate. Someone had entered the drive. Again there was a long

silence, and I had begun to fear that it was a false alarm, when a stealthy step was heard upon the other side

of the hut, and a moment later a metallic scraping and clinking. The man was trying to force the lock! This

time his skill was greater or his tool was better, for there was a sudden snap and the creak of the hinges. Then

a match was struck, and next instant the steady light from a candle filled the interior of the hut. Through the

The nocturnal visitor was a young man, frail and thin, with a black moustache which intensified the deadly

pallor of his face. He could not have been much above twenty years of age. I have never seen any human

being who appeared to be in such a pitiable fright, for his teeth were visibly chattering and he was shaking in

every limb. He was dressed like a gentleman, in Norfolk jacket and knickerbockers, with a cloth cap upon his

head. We watched him staring round with frightened eyes. Then he laid the candleend upon the table and

disappeared from our view into one of the corners. He returned with a large book, one of the logbooks

which formed a line upon the shelves. Leaning on the table he rapidly turned over the leaves of this volume

until he came to the entry which he sought. Then, with an angry gesture of his clenched hand, he closed the

book, replaced it in the corner, and put out the light. He had hardly turned to leave the hut when Hopkins's

hand was on the fellow's collar, and I heard his loud gasp of terror as he understood that he was taken. The

candle was relit, and there was our wretched captive shivering and cowering in the grasp of the detective.

He sank down upon the seachest, and looked helplessly from one of us to the other.

"Now, my fine fellow," said Stanley Hopkins, "who are you, and what do you want here?"

"You are detectives, I suppose?" said he. "You imagine I am connected with the death of Captain Peter

"Well, I will tell you," he said. "Why should I not? And yet I hate to think of this old scandal gaining a new

I could see from Hopkins's face that he never had; but Holmes was keenly interested.

"You mean the Westcountry bankers," said he. "They failed for a million, ruined half the county families of

At last we were getting something positive, and yet it seemed a long gap between an absconding banker and

Captain Peter Carey pinned against the wall with one of his own harpoons. We all listened intently to the

"It was my father who was really concerned. Dawson had retired. I was only ten years of age at the time, but I

was old enough to feel the shame and horror of it all. It has always been said that my father stole all the

securities and fled. It is not true. It was his belief that if he were given time in which to realize them all would

be well and every creditor paid in full. He started in his little yacht for Norway just before the warrant was

issued for his arrest. I can remember that last night when he bade farewell to my mother. He left us a list of

the securities he was taking, and he swore that he would come back with his honour cleared, and that none

who had trusted him would suffer. Well, no word was ever heard from him again. Both the yacht and he

vanished utterly. We believed, my mother and I, that he and it, with the securities that he had taken with him,

were at the bottom of the sea. We had a faithful friend, however, who is a business man, and it was he who

discovered some time ago that some of the securities which my father had with him have reappeared on the

London market. You can imagine our amazement. I spent months in trying to trace them, and at last, after

many doublings and difficulties, I discovered that the original seller had been Captain Peter Carey, the owner

"Naturally, I made some inquiries about the man. I found that he had been in command of a whaler which

was due to return from the Arctic seas at the very time when my father was crossing to Norway. The autumn

of that year was a stormy one, and there was a long succession of southerly gales. My father's yacht may well

have been blown to the north, and there met by Captain Peter Carey's ship. If that were so, what had become

of my father? In any case, if I could prove from Peter Carey's evidence how these securities came on the

market it would be a proof that my father had not sold them, and that he had no view to personal profit when

"I came down to Sussex with the intention of seeing the captain, but it was at this moment that his terrible

death occurred. I read at the inquest a description of his cabin, in which it stated that the old logbooks of his

vessel were preserved in it. It struck me that if I could see what occurred in the month of August, 1883, on

board the SEA UNICORN, I might settle the mystery of my father's fate. I tried last night to get at these

logbooks, but was unable to open the door. Tonight I tried again, and succeeded; but I find that the pages

which deal with that month have been torn from the book. It was at that moment I found myself a prisoner in

"Then how do you account for THAT?" cried Hopkins, as he held up the damning notebook, with the

The wretched man collapsed. He sank his face in his hands and trembled all over.

"Where did you get it?" he groaned. "I did not know. I thought I had lost it at the hotel."

"That is enough," said Hopkins, sternly. "Whatever else you have to say you must say in court. You will walk

down with me now to the policestation. Well, Mr. Holmes, I am very much obliged to you and to your

friend for coming down to help me. As it turns out your presence was unnecessary, and I would have brought

the case to this successful issue without you; but none the less I am very grateful. Rooms have been reserved

for you at the Brambletye Hotel, so we can all walk down to the village together."

"Well, Watson, what do you think of it?" asked Holmes, as we travelled back next morning.

"Oh, yes, my dear Watson, I am perfectly satisfied. At the same time Stanley Hopkins's methods do not

commend themselves to me. I am disappointed in Stanley Hopkins. I had hoped for better things from him.

One should always look for a possible alternative and provide against it. It is the first rule of criminal

"The line of investigation which I have myself been pursuing. It may give us nothing. I cannot tell. But at

Several letters were waiting for Holmes at Baker Street. He snatched one of them up, opened it, and burst out

"Excellent, Watson. The alternative develops. Have you telegraph forms? Just write a couple of messages for

me: `Sumner, Shipping Agent, Ratcliff Highway. Send three men on, to arrive ten tomorrow morning.

Basil.' That's my name in those parts. The other is: `Inspector Stanley Hopkins, 46, Lord Street, Brixton.

Come breakfast tomorrow at ninethirty. Important. Wire if unable to come. Sherlock Holmes.' There,

Watson, this infernal case has haunted me for ten days. I hereby banish it completely from my presence.

Sharp at the hour named Inspector Stanley Hopkins appeared, and we sat down together to the excellent

breakfast which Mrs. Hudson had prepared. The young detective was in high spirits at his success.

"Undoubtedly. I find that young Neligan arrived at the Brambletye Hotel on the very day of the crime. He

came on the pretence of playing golf. His room was on the groundfloor, and he could get out when he liked.

That very night he went down to Woodman's Lee, saw Peter Carey at the hut, quarrelled with him, and killed

him with the harpoon. Then, horrified by what he had done, he fled out of the hut, dropping the notebook

which he had brought with him in order to question Peter Carey about these different securities. You may

have observed that some of them were marked with ticks, and the others the great majority were not.

Those which are ticked have been traced on the London market; but the others presumably were still in the

possession of Carey, and young Neligan, according to his own account, was anxious to recover them in order

to do the right thing by his father's creditors. After his flight he did not dare to approach the hut again for

some time; but at last he forced himself to do so in order to obtain the information which he needed. Surely

"It seems to me to have only one drawback, Hopkins, and that is that it is intrinsically impossible. Have you

tried to drive a harpoon through a body? No? Tut, tut, my dear sir, you must really pay attention to these

details. My friend Watson could tell you that I spent a whole morning in that exercise. It is no easy matter,

and requires a strong and practised arm. But this blow was delivered with such violence that the head of the

weapon sank deep into the wall. Do you imagine that this anaemic youth was capable of so frightful an

assault? Is he the man who hobnobbed in rum and water with Black Peter in the dead of the night? Was it his

profile that was seen on the blind two nights before? No, no, Hopkins; it is another and a more formidable

The detective's face had grown longer and longer during Holmes's speech. His hopes and his ambitions were

all crumbling about him. But he would not abandon his position without a struggle.

"You can't deny that Neligan was present that night, Mr. Holmes. The book will prove that. I fancy that I

have evidence enough to satisfy a jury, even if you are able to pick a hole in it. Besides, Mr. Holmes, I have

"I rather fancy that he is on the stair," said Holmes, serenely. "I think, Watson, that you would do well to put

that revolver where you can reach it." He rose, and laid a written paper upon a sidetable. "Now we are

There had been some talking in gruff voices outside, and now Mrs. Hudson opened the door to say that there

The first who entered was a little ribstonpippin of a man, with ruddy cheeks and fluffy white sidewhiskers.

"I am sorry, Lancaster, but the berth is full. Here is half a sovereign for your trouble. Just step into this room

The second man was a long, driedup creature, with lank hair and sallow cheeks. His name was Hugh

Pattins. He also received his dismissal, his halfsovereign, and the order to wait.

The third applicant was a man of remarkable appearance. A fierce bulldog face was framed in a tangle of

hair and beard, and two bold dark eyes gleamed behind the cover of thick, tufted, overhung eyebrows. He

"Yes, sir." He took a sheaf of worn and greasy forms from his pocket. Holmes glanced over them and

"You are just the man I want," said he. "Here's the agreement on the sidetable. If you sign it the whole

I heard a click of steel and a bellow like an enraged bull. The next instant Holmes and the seaman were

rolling on the ground together. He was a man of such gigantic strength that, even with the handcuffs which

Holmes had so deftly fastened upon his wrists, he would have very quickly overpowered my friend had

Hopkins and I not rushed to his rescue. Only when I pressed the cold muzzle of the revolver to his temple did

he at last understand that resistance was vain. We lashed his ankles with cord and rose breathless from the

"I must really apologize, Hopkins," said Sherlock Holmes; "I fear that the scrambled eggs are cold. However,

you will enjoy the rest of your breakfast all the better, will you not, for the thought that you have brought

"I don't know what to say, Mr. Holmes," he blurted out at last, with a very red face. "It seems to me that I

have been making a fool of myself from the beginning. I understand now, what I should never have forgotten,

that I am the pupil and you are the master. Even now I see what you have done, but I don't know how you did

"Well, well," said Holmes, goodhumouredly. "We all learn by experience, and your lesson this time is that

you should never lose sight of the alternative. You were so absorbed in young Neligan that you could not

"See here, mister," said he, "I make no complaint of being manhandled in this fashion, but I would have you

call things by their right names. You say I murdered Peter Carey; I say I KILLED Peter Carey, and there's all

the difference. Maybe you don't believe what I say. Maybe you think I am just slinging you a yarn."

"It's soon told, and, by the Lord, every word of it is truth. I knew Black Peter, and when he pulled out his

knife I whipped a harpoon through him sharp, for I knew that it was him or me. That's how he died. You can

call it murder. Anyhow, I'd as soon die with a rope round my neck as with Black Peter's knife in my heart."

"I'll tell it you from the beginning. Just sit me up a little so as I can speak easy. It was in '83 that it happened

August of that year. Peter Carey was master of the SEA UNICORN, and I was spare harpooner. We were

coming out of the icepack on our way home, with head winds and a week's southerly gale, when we picked

up a little craft that had been blown north. There was one man on her a landsman. The crew had thought

she would founder, and had made for the Norwegian coast in the dinghy. I guess they were all drowned.

Well, we took him on board, this man, and he and the skipper had some long talks in the cabin. All the

baggage we took off with him was one tin box. So far as I know, the man's name was never mentioned, and

on the second night he disappeared as if he had never been. It was given out that he had either thrown himself

overboard or fallen overboard in the heavy weather that we were having. Only one man knew what had

happened to him, and that was me, for with my own eyes I saw the skipper tip up his heels and put him over

the rail in the middle watch of a dark night, two days before we sighted the Shetland lights.

myself and waited to see what would come of it. When we got back to Scotland it was easily hushed up, and

nobody asked any questions. A stranger died by an accident, and it was nobody's business to inquire. Shortly

after Peter Carey gave up the sea, and it was long years before I could find where he was. I guessed that he

had done the deed for the sake of what was in that tin box, and that he could afford now to pay me well for

"I found out where he was through a sailor man that had met him in London, and down I went to squeeze

him. The first night he was reasonable enough, and was ready to give me what would make me free of the sea

for life. We were to fix it all two nights later. When I came I found him three parts drunk and in a vile temper.

We sat down and we drank and we yarned about old times, but the more he drank the less I liked the look on

his face. I spotted that harpoon upon the wall, and I thought I might need it before I was through. Then at last

he broke out at me, spitting and cursing, with murder in his eyes and a great claspknife in his hand. He had

not time to get it from the sheath before I had the harpoon through him. Heavens! what a yell he gave; and his

face gets between me and my sleep! I stood there, with his blood splashing round me, and I waited for a bit;

but all was quiet, so I took heart once more. I looked round, and there was the tin box on a shelf. I had as

much right to it as Peter Carey, anyhow, so I took it with me and left the hut. Like a fool I left my

"Now I'll tell you the queerest part of the whole story. I had hardly got outside the hut when I heard someone

coming, and I hid among the bushes. A man came slinking along, went into the hut, gave a cry as if he had

seen a ghost, and legged it as hard as he could run until he was out of sight. Who he was or what he wanted is

more than I can tell. For my part I walked ten miles, got a train at Tunbridge Wells, and so reached London,

"Well, when I came to examine the box I found there was no money in it, and nothing but papers that I would

not dare to sell. I had lost my hold on Black Peter, and was stranded in London without a shilling. There was

only my trade left. I saw these advertisements about harpooners and high wages, so I went to the shipping

agents, and they sent me here. That's all I know, and I say again that if I killed Black Peter the law should

"A very clear statement," said Holmes, rising and lighting his pipe. "I think, Hopkins, that you should lose no

time in conveying your prisoner to a place of safety. This room is not well adapted for a cell, and Mr. Patrick

"Mr. Holmes," said Hopkins, "I do not know how to express my gratitude. Even now I do not understand how

"Simply by having the good fortune to get the right clue from the beginning. It is very possible if I had known

about this notebook it might have led away my thoughts, as it did yours. But all I heard pointed in the one

direction. The amazing strength, the skill in the use of the harpoon, the rum and water, the sealskin

tobaccopouch, with the coarse tobacco all these pointed to a seaman, and one who had been a whaler. I

was convinced that the initials `P.C.' upon the pouch were a coincidence, and not those of Peter Carey, since

he seldom smoked, and no pipe was found in his cabin. You remember that I asked whether whisky and

brandy were in the cabin. You said they were. How many landsmen are there who would drink rum when

"My dear sir, the problem had become a very simple one. If it were a seaman, it could only be a seaman who

had been with him on the SEA UNICORN. So far as I could learn he had sailed in no other ship. I spent three

days in wiring to Dundee, and at the end of that time I had ascertained the names of the crew of the SEA

UNICORN in 1883. When I found Patrick Cairns among the harpooners my research was nearing its end. I

argued that the man was probably in London, and that he would desire to leave the country for a time. I

therefore spent some days in the Eastend, devised an Arctic expedition, put forth tempting terms for

"You must obtain the release of young Neligan as soon as possible," said Holmes. "I confess that I think you

owe him some apology. The tin box must be returned to him, but, of course, the securities which Peter Carey

has sold are lost for ever. There's the cab, Hopkins, and you can remove your man. If you want me for the

trial, my address and that of Watson will be somewhere in Norway I'll send particulars later."

IT is years since the incidents of which I speak took place, and yet it is with diffidence that I allude to them.

For a long time, even with the utmost discretion and reticence, it would have been impossible to make the

facts public; but now the principal person concerned is beyond the reach of human law, and with due

suppression the story may be told in such fashion as to injure no one. It records an absolutely unique

experience in the career both of Mr. Sherlock Holmes and of myself. The reader will excuse me if I conceal

We had been out for one of our evening rambles, Holmes and I, and had returned about six o'clock on a cold,

frosty winter's evening. As Holmes turned up the lamp the light fell upon a card on the table. He glanced at it,

and then, with an ejaculation of disgust, threw it on the floor. I picked it up and read:

"The worst man in London," Holmes answered, as he sat down and stretched his legs before the fire. "Is

"Hum! He's about due. Do you feel a creeping, shrinking sensation, Watson, when you stand before the

serpents in the Zoo and see the slithery, gliding, venomous creatures, with their deadly eyes and wicked,

flattened faces? Well, that's how Milverton impresses me. I've had to do with fifty murderers in my career,

but the worst of them never gave me the repulsion which I have for this fellow. And yet I can't get out of

"I'll tell you, Watson. He is the king of all the blackmailers. Heaven help the man, and still more the woman,

whose secret and reputation come into the power of Milverton. With a smiling face and a heart of marble he

will squeeze and squeeze until he has drained them dry. The fellow is a genius in his way, and would have

made his mark in some more savoury trade. His method is as follows: He allows it to be known that he is

prepared to pay very high sums for letters which compromise people of wealth or position. He receives these

wares not only from treacherous valets or maids, but frequently from genteel ruffians who have gained the

confidence and affection of trusting women. He deals with no niggard hand. I happen to know that he paid

seven hundred pounds to a footman for a note two lines in length, and that the ruin of a noble family was the

result. Everything which is in the market goes to Milverton, and there are hundreds in this great city who turn

white at his name. No one knows where his grip may fall, for he is far too rich and far too cunning to work

from hand to mouth. He will hold a card back for years in order to play it at the moment when the stake is

best worth winning. I have said that he is the worst man in London, and I would ask you how could one

compare the ruffian who in hot blood bludgeons his mate with this man, who methodically and at his leisure

tortures the soul and wrings the nerves in order to add to his already swollen moneybags?"

"Technically, no doubt, but practically not. What would it profit a woman, for example, to get him a few

months' imprisonment if her own ruin must immediately follow? His victims dare not hit back. If ever he

blackmailed an innocent person, then, indeed, we should have him; but he is as cunning as the Evil One. No,

"Because an illustrious client has placed her piteous case in my hands. It is the Lady Eva Brackwell, the most

beautiful DEBUTANTE of last season. She is to be married in a fortnight to the Earl of Dovercourt. This

fiend has several imprudent letters imprudent, Watson, nothing worse which were written to an

impecunious young squire in the country. They would suffice to break off the match. Milverton will send the

letters to the Earl unless a large sum of money is paid him. I have been commissioned to meet him, and to

At that instant there was a clatter and a rattle in the street below. Looking down I saw a stately carriage and

pair, the brilliant lamps gleaming on the glossy haunches of the noble chestnuts. A footman opened the door,

and a small, stout man in a shaggy astrachan overcoat descended. A minute later he was in the room.

Charles Augustus Milverton was a man of fifty, with a large, intellectual head, a round, plump, hairless face,

a perpetual frozen smile, and two keen grey eyes, which gleamed brightly from behind broad,

goldenrimmed glasses. There was something of Mr. Pickwick's benevolence in his appearance, marred only

by the insincerity of the fixed smile and by the hard glitter of those restless and penetrating eyes. His voice

was as smooth and suave as his countenance, as he advanced with a plump little hand extended, murmuring

his regret for having missed us at his first visit. Holmes disregarded the outstretched hand and looked at him

with a face of granite. Milverton's smile broadened; he shrugged his shoulders, removed his overcoat, folded

"This gentleman?" said he, with a wave in my direction. "Is it discreet? Is it right?"

"Very good, Mr. Holmes. It is only in your client's interests that I protested. The matter is so very delicate

"Then we can proceed to business. You say that you are acting for Lady Eva. Has she empowered you to

"My dear sir, it is painful for me to discuss it; but if the money is not paid on the 14th there certainly will be

"You appear to me," he said, at last, "to be taking matters too much for granted. I am, of course, familiar with

the contents of these letters. My client will certainly do what I may advise. I shall counsel her to tell her

"They are sprightly very sprightly," Milverton answered. "The lady was a charming correspondent. But I

can assure you that the Earl of Dovercourt would fail to appreciate them. However, since you think

otherwise, we will let it rest at that. It is purely a matter of business. If you think that it is in the best interests

of your client that these letters should be placed in the hands of the Earl, then you would indeed be foolish to

pay so large a sum of money to regain them." He rose and seized his astrachan coat.

"Wait a little," he said. "You go too fast. We would certainly make every effort to avoid scandal in so delicate

"At the same time," Holmes continued, "Lady Eva is not a wealthy woman. I assure you that two thousand

pounds would be a drain upon her resources, and that the sum you name is utterly beyond her power. I beg,

therefore, that you will moderate your demands, and that you will return the letters at the price I indicate,

"I am aware that what you say is true about the lady's resources," said he. "At the same time, you must admit

that the occasion of a lady's marriage is a very suitable time for her friends and relatives to make some little

effort upon her behalf. They may hesitate as to an acceptable wedding present. Let me assure them that this

little bundle of letters would give more joy than all the candelabra and butterdishes in London."

"Dear me, dear me, how unfortunate!" cried Milverton, taking out a bulky pocketbook. "I cannot help

thinking that ladies are illadvised in not making an effort. Look at this!" He held up a little note with a

coatofarms upon the envelope. "That belongs to well, perhaps it is hardly fair to tell the name until

tomorrow morning. But at that time it will be in the hands of the lady's husband. And all because she will

not find a beggarly sum which she could get by turning her diamonds into paste. It IS such a pity. Now, you

remember the sudden end of the engagement between the Honourable Miss Miles and Colonel Dorking?

Only two days before the wedding there was a paragraph in the MORNING POST to say that it was all off.

And why? It is almost incredible, but the absurd sum of twelve hundred pounds would have settled the whole

question. Is it not pitiful? And here I find you, a man of sense, boggling about terms when your client's future

"What I say is true," Holmes answered. "The money cannot be found. Surely it is better for you to take the

substantial sum which I offer than to ruin this woman's career, which can profit you in no way?"

"There you make a mistake, Mr. Holmes. An exposure would profit me indirectly to a considerable extent. I

have eight or ten similar cases maturing. If it was circulated among them that I had made a severe example of

the Lady Eva I should find all of them much more open to reason. You see my point?"

"Get behind him, Watson! Don't let him out! Now, sir, let us see the contents of that notebook."

Milverton had glided as quick as a rat to the side of the room, and stood with his back against the wall.

"Mr. Holmes, Mr. Holmes," he said, turning the front of his coat and exhibiting the butt of a large revolver,

which projected from the inside pocket. "I have been expecting you to do something original. This has been

done so often, and what good has ever come from it? I assure you that I am armed to the teeth, and I am

perfectly prepared to use my weapons, knowing that the law will support me. Besides, your supposition that I

would bring the letters here in a notebook is entirely mistaken. I would do nothing so foolish. And now,

gentlemen, I have one or two little interviews this evening, and it is a long drive to Hampstead." He stepped

forward, took up his coat, laid his hand on his revolver, and turned to the door. I picked up a chair, but

Holmes shook his head and I laid it down again. With bow, a smile, and a twinkle Milverton was out of the

room, and a few moments after we heard the slam of the carriage door and the rattle of the wheels as he drove

Holmes sat motionless by the fire, his hands buried deep in his trouser pockets, his chin sunk upon his breast,

his eyes fixed upon the glowing embers. For half an hour he was silent and still. Then, with the gesture of a

man who has taken his decision, he sprang to his feet and passed into his bedroom. A little later a rakish

young workman with a goatee beard and a swagger lit his clay pipe at the lamp before descending into the

street. "I'll be back some time, Watson," said he, and vanished into the night. I understood that he had opened

his campaign against Charles Augustus Milverton; but I little dreamed the strange shape which that campaign

For some days Holmes came and went at all hours in this attire, but beyond a remark that his time was spent

at Hampstead, and that it was not wasted, I knew nothing of what he was doing. At last, however, on a wild,

tempestuous evening, when the wind screamed and rattled against the windows, he returned from his last

expedition, and having removed his disguise he sat before the fire and laughed heartily in his silent inward

"It was a most necessary step. I am a plumber with a rising business, Escott by name. I have walked out with

her each evening, and I have talked with her. Good heavens, those talks! However, I have got all I wanted. I

"You can't help it, my dear Watson. You must play your cards as best you can when such a stake is on the

table. However, I rejoice to say that I have a hated rival who will certainly cut me out the instant that my back

I had a catching of the breath, and my skin went cold at the words, which were slowly uttered in a tone of

concentrated resolution. As a flash of lightning in the night shows up in an instant every detail of a wide

landscape, so at one glance I seemed to see every possible result of such an action the detection, the

capture, the honoured career ending in irreparable failure and disgrace, my friend himself lying at the mercy

"My dear fellow, I have given it every consideration. I am never precipitate in my actions, nor would I adopt

so energetic and indeed so dangerous a course if any other were possible. Let us look at the matter clearly and

fairly. I suppose that you will admit that the action is morally justifiable, though technically criminal. To

burgle his house is no more than to forcibly take his pocketbook an action in which you were prepared to

"Yes," I said; "it is morally justifiable so long as our object is to take no articles save those which are used for

"Exactly. Since it is morally justifiable I have only to consider the question of personal risk. Surely a

gentleman should not lay much stress upon this when a lady is in most desperate need of his help?"

"Well, that is part of the risk. There is no other possible way of regaining these letters. The unfortunate lady

has not the money, and there are none of her people in whom she could confide. Tomorrow is the last day of

grace, and unless we can get the letters tonight this villain will be as good as his word and will bring about

her ruin. I must, therefore, abandon my client to her fate or I must play this last card. Between ourselves,

Watson, it's a sporting duel between this fellow Milverton and me. He had, as you saw, the best of the first

exchanges; but my selfrespect and my reputation are concerned to fight it to a finish."

"Then you are not going," said I. "I give you my word of honour and I never broke it in my life that I

will take a cab straight to the policestation and give you away unless you let me share this adventure with

"How do you know that? You can't tell what may happen. Anyway, my resolution is taken. Other people

Holmes had looked annoyed, but his brow cleared, and he clapped me on the shoulder.

"Well, well, my dear fellow, be it so. We have shared the same room for some years, and it would be amusing

if we ended by sharing the same cell. You know, Watson, I don't mind confessing to you that I have always

had an idea that I would have made a highly efficient criminal. This is the chance of my lifetime in that

direction. See here!" He took a neat little leather case out of a drawer, and opening it he exhibited a number

of shining instruments. "This is a firstclass, uptodate burgling kit, with nickelplated jemmy,

diamondtipped glasscutter, adaptable keys, and every modern improvement which the march of

civilization demands. Here, too, is my dark lantern. Everything is in order. Have you a pair of silent shoes?"

"I can see that you have a strong natural turn for this sort of thing. Very good; do you make the masks. We

shall have some cold supper before we start. It is now ninethirty. At eleven we shall drive as far as Church

Row. It is a quarter of an hour's walk from there to Appledore Towers. We shall be at work before midnight.

Milverton is a heavy sleeper and retires punctually at tenthirty. With any luck we should be back here by

Holmes and I put on our dressclothes, so that we might appear to be two theatregoers homeward bound. In

Oxford Street we picked up a hansom and drove to an address in Hampstead. Here we paid off our cab, and

with our greatcoats buttoned up, for it was bitterly cold and the wind seemed to blow through us, we walked

"It's a business that needs delicate treatment," said Holmes. "These documents are contained in a safe in the

fellow's study, and the study is the anteroom of his bedchamber. On the other hand, like all these stout,

little men who do themselves well, he is a plethoric sleeper. Agatha that's my FIANCEE says it is a

joke in the servants' hall that it's impossible to wake the master. He has a secretary who is devoted to his

interests and never budges from the study all day. That's why we are going at night. Then he has a beast of a

dog which roams the garden. I met Agatha late the last two evenings, and she locks the brute up so as to give

me a clear run. This is the house, this big one in its own grounds. Through the gate now to the right

among the laurels. We might put on our masks here, I think. You see, there is not a glimmer of light in any of

With our black silk facecoverings, which turned us into two of the most truculent figures in London, we

stole up to the silent, gloomy house. A sort of tiled veranda extended along one side of it, lined by several

"That's his bedroom," Holmes whispered. "This door opens straight into the study. It would suit us best, but it

is bolted as well as locked, and we should make too much noise getting in. Come round here. There's a

The place was locked, but Holmes removed a circle of glass and turned the key from the inside. An instant

afterwards he had closed the door behind us, and we had become felons in the eyes of the law. The thick,

warm air of the conservatory and the rich, choking fragrance of exotic plants took us by the throat. He seized

my hand in the darkness and led me swiftly past banks of shrubs which brushed against our faces. Holmes

had remarkable powers, carefully cultivated, of seeing in the dark. Still holding my hand in one of his he

opened a door, and I was vaguely conscious that we had entered a large room in which a cigar had been

smoked not long before. He felt his way among the furniture, opened another door, and closed it behind us.

Putting out my hand I felt several coats hanging from the wall, and I understood that I was in a passage. We

passed along it, and Holmes very gently opened a door upon the righthand side. Something rushed out at us

and my heart sprang into my mouth, but I could have laughed when I realized that it was the cat. A fire was

burning in this new room, and again the air was heavy with tobacco smoke. Holmes entered on tiptoe, waited

for me to follow, and then very gently closed the door. We were in Milverton's study, and a PORTIERE at

It was a good fire, and the room was illuminated by it. Near the door I saw the gleam of an electric switch,

but it was unnecessary, even if it had been safe, to turn it on. At one side of the fireplace was a heavy curtain,

which covered the bay window we had seen from outside. On the other side was the door which

communicated with the veranda. A desk stood in the centre, with a turning chair of shining red leather.

Opposite was a large bookcase, with a marble bust of Athene on the top. In the corner between the bookcase

and the wall there stood a tall green safe, the firelight flashing back from the polished brass knobs upon its

face. Holmes stole across and looked at it. Then he crept to the door of the bedroom, and stood with slanting

head listening intently. No sound came from within. Meanwhile it had struck me that it would be wise to

secure our retreat through the outer door, so I examined it. To my amazement it was neither locked nor

bolted! I touched Holmes on the arm, and he turned his masked face in that direction. I saw him start, and he

"I don't like it," he whispered, putting his lips to my very ear. "I can't quite make it out. Anyhow, we have no

"Yes; stand by the door. If you hear anyone come, bolt it on the inside, and we can get away as we came. If

they come the other way, we can get through the door if our job is done, or hide behind these window

I nodded and stood by the door. My first feeling of fear had passed away, and I thrilled now with a keener

zest than I had ever enjoyed when we were the defenders of the law instead of its defiers. The high object of

our mission, the consciousness that it was unselfish and chivalrous, the villainous character of our opponent,

all added to the sporting interest of the adventure. Far from feeling guilty, I rejoiced and exulted in our

dangers. With a glow of admiration I watched Holmes unrolling his case of instruments and choosing his tool

with the calm, scientific accuracy of a surgeon who performs a delicate operation. I knew that the opening of

safes was a particular hobby with him, and I understood the joy which it gave him to be confronted with this

green and gold monster, the dragon which held in its maw the reputations of many fair ladies. Turning up the

cuffs of his dresscoat he had placed his overcoat on a chair Holmes laid out two drills, a jemmy, and

several skeleton keys. I stood at the centre door with my eyes glancing at each of the others, ready for any

emergency; though, indeed, my plans were somewhat vague as to what I should do if we were interrupted.

For half an hour Holmes worked with concentrated energy, laying down one tool, picking up another,

handling each with the strength and delicacy of the trained mechanic. Finally I heard a click, the broad green

door swung open, and inside I had a glimpse of a number of paper packets, each tied, sealed, and inscribed.

Holmes picked one out, but it was hard to read by the flickering fire, and he drew out his little dark lantern,

for it was too dangerous, with Milverton in the next room, to switch on the electric light. Suddenly I saw him

halt, listen intently, and then in an instant he had swung the door of the safe to, picked up his coat, stuffed his

tools into the pockets, and darted behind the window curtain, motioning me to do the same.

It was only when I had joined him there that I heard what had alarmed his quicker senses. There was a noise

somewhere within the house. A door slammed in the distance. Then a confused, dull murmur broke itself into

the measured thud of heavy footsteps rapidly approaching. They were in the passage outside the room. They

paused at the door. The door opened. There was a sharp snick as the electric light was turned on. The door

closed once more, and the pungent reek of a strong cigar was borne to our nostrils. Then the footsteps

continued backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, within a few yards of us. Finally, there was a

creak from a chair, and the footsteps ceased. Then a key clicked in a lock and I heard the rustle of papers.

So far I had not dared to look out, but now I gently parted the division of the curtains in front of me and

peeped through. From the pressure of Holmes's shoulder against mine I knew that he was sharing my

observations. Right in front of us, and almost within our reach, was the broad, rounded back of Milverton. It

was evident that we had entirely miscalculated his movements, that he had never been to his bedroom, but

that he had been sitting up in some smoking or billiard room in the farther wing of the house, the windows of

which we had not seen. His broad, grizzled head, with its shining patch of baldness, was in the immediate

foreground of our vision. He was leaning far back in the red leather chair, his legs outstretched, a long black

cigar projecting at an angle from his mouth. He wore a semimilitary smoking jacket, claretcoloured, with a

black velvet collar. In his hand he held a long legal document, which he was reading in an indolent fashion,

blowing rings of tobacco smoke from his lips as he did so. There was no promise of a speedy departure in his

I felt Holmes's hand steal into mine and give me a reassuring shake, as if to say that the situation was within

his powers and that he was easy in his mind. I was not sure whether he had seen what was only too obvious

from my position, that the door of the safe was imperfectly closed, and that Milverton might at any moment

observe it. In my own mind I had determined that if I were sure, from the rigidity of his gaze, that it had

caught his eye, I would at once spring out, throw my greatcoat over his head, pinion him, and leave the rest

to Holmes. But Milverton never looked up. He was languidly interested by the papers in his hand, and page

after page was turned as he followed the argument of the lawyer. At least, I thought, when he has finished the

document and the cigar he will go to his room; but before he had reached the end of either there came a

Several times I had observed that Milverton looked at his watch, and once he had risen and sat down again,

with a gesture of impatience. The idea, however, that he might have an appointment at so strange an hour

never occurred to me until a faint sound reached my ears from the veranda outside. Milverton dropped his

papers and sat rigid in his chair. The sound was repeated, and then there came a gentle tap at the door.

So this was the explanation of the unlocked door and of the nocturnal vigil of Milverton. There was the gentle

rustle of a woman's dress. I had closed the slit between the curtains as Milverton's face had turned in our

direction, but now I ventured very carefully to open it once more. He had resumed his seat, the cigar still

projecting at an insolent angle from the corner of his mouth. In front of him, in the full glare of the electric

light, there stood a tall, slim, dark woman, a veil over her face, a mantle drawn round her chin. Her breath

came quick and fast, and every inch of the lithe figure was quivering with strong emotion.

"Well," said Milverton, "you've made me lose a good night's rest, my dear. I hope you'll prove worth it. You

"Well, if you couldn't you couldn't. If the Countess is a hard mistress you have your chance to get level with

her now. Bless the girl, what are you shivering about? That's right! Pull yourself together! Now, let us get

down to business." He took a note from the drawer of his desk. "You say that you have five letters which

compromise the Countess d'Albert. You want to sell them. I want to buy them. So far so good. It only

remains to fix a price. I should want to inspect the letters, of course. If they are really good specimens

The woman without a word had raised her veil and dropped the mantle from her chin. It was a dark,

handsome, clearcut face which confronted Milverton, a face with a curved nose, strong, dark eyebrows

shading hard, glittering eyes, and a straight, thinlipped mouth set in a dangerous smile.

Milverton laughed, but fear vibrated in his voice. "You were so very obstinate," said he. "Why did you drive

me to such extremities? I assure you I wouldn't hurt a fly of my own accord, but every man has his business,

and what was I to do? I put the price well within your means. You would not pay."

"So you sent the letters to my husband, and he the noblest gentleman that ever lived, a man whose boots I

was never worthy to lace he broke his gallant heart and died. You remember that last night when I came

through that door I begged and prayed you for mercy, and you laughed in my face as you are trying to laugh

now, only your coward heart cannot keep your lips from twitching? Yes, you never thought to see me here

again, but it was that night which taught me how I could meet you face to face, and alone. Well, Charles

"Don't imagine that you can bully me," said he, rising to his feet. "I have only to raise my voice, and I could

call my servants and have you arrested. But I will make allowance for your natural anger. Leave the room at

The woman stood with her hand buried in her bosom, and the same deadly smile on her thin lips.

"You will ruin no more lives as you ruined mine. You will wring no more hearts as you wrung mine. I will

free the world of a poisonous thing. Take that, you hound, and that! and that! and that!"

She had drawn a little, gleaming revolver, and emptied barrel after barrel into Milverton's body, the muzzle

within two feet of his shirt front. He shrank away and then fell forward upon the table, coughing furiously

and clawing among the papers. Then he staggered to his feet, received another shot, and rolled upon the floor.

"You've done me," he cried, and lay still. The woman looked at him intently and ground her heel into his

upturned face. She looked again, but there was no sound or movement. I heard a sharp rustle, the night air

No interference upon our part could have saved the man from his fate; but as the woman poured bullet after

bullet into Milverton's shrinking body I was about to spring out, when I felt Holmes's cold, strong grasp upon

my wrist. I understood the whole argument of that firm, restraining grip that it was no affair of ours; that

justice had overtaken a villain; that we had our own duties and our own objects which were not to be lost

sight of. But hardly had the woman rushed from the room when Holmes, with swift, silent steps, was over at

the other door. He turned the key in the lock. At the same instant we heard voices in the house and the sound

of hurrying feet. The revolver shots had roused the household. With perfect coolness Holmes slipped across

to the safe, filled his two arms with bundles of letters, and poured them all into the fire. Again and again he

did it, until the safe was empty. Someone turned the handle and beat upon the outside of the door. Holmes

looked swiftly round. The letter which had been the messenger of death for Milverton lay, all mottled with

his blood, upon the table. Holmes tossed it in among the blazing papers. Then he drew the key from the outer

door, passed through after me, and locked it on the outside. "This way, Watson," said he; "we can scale the

I could not have believed that an alarm could have spread so swiftly. Looking back, the huge house was one

blaze of light. The front door was open, and figures were rushing down the drive. The whole garden was alive

with people, and one fellow raised a viewhalloa as we emerged from the veranda and followed hard at our

heels. Holmes seemed to know the ground perfectly, and he threaded his way swiftly among a plantation of

small trees, I close at his heels, and our foremost pursuer panting behind us. It was a sixfoot wall which

barred our path, but he sprang to the top and over. As I did the same I felt the hand of the man behind me

grab at my ankle; but I kicked myself free and scrambled over a glassstrewn coping. I fell upon my face

among some bushes; but Holmes had me on my feet in an instant, and together we dashed away across the

huge expanse of Hampstead Heath. We had run two miles, I suppose, before Holmes at last halted and

listened intently. All was absolute silence behind us. We had shaken off our pursuers and were safe.

We had breakfasted and were smoking our morning pipe on the day after the remarkable experience which I

have recorded when Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, very solemn and impressive, was ushered into our

"Good morning, Mr. Holmes," said he; "good morning. May I ask if you are very busy just now?"

"I thought that, perhaps, if you had nothing particular on hand, you might care to assist us in a most

"A murder a most dramatic and remarkable murder. I know how keen you are upon these things, and I

would take it as a great favour if you would step down to Appledore Towers and give us the benefit of your

advice. It is no ordinary crime. We have had our eyes upon this Mr. Milverton for some time, and, between

ourselves, he was a bit of a villain. He is known to have held papers which he used for blackmailing

purposes. These papers have all been burned by the murderers. No article of value was taken, as it is probable

that the criminals were men of good position, whose sole object was to prevent social exposure."

"Yes, there were two of them. They were, as nearly as possible, captured redhanded. We have their

footmarks, we have their description; it's ten to one that we trace them. The first fellow was a bit too active,

but the second was caught by the undergardener and only got away after a struggle. He was a middlesized,

"That's rather vague," said Sherlock Holmes. "Why, it might be a description of Watson!"

"It's true," said the inspector, with much amusement. "It might be a description of Watson."

"Well, I am afraid I can't help you, Lestrade," said Holmes. "The fact is that I knew this fellow Milverton,

that I considered him one of the most dangerous men in London, and that I think there are certain crimes

which the law cannot touch, and which therefore, to some extent, justify private revenge. No, it's no use

arguing. I have made up my mind. My sympathies are with the criminals rather than with the victim, and I

Holmes had not said one word to me about the tragedy which we had witnessed, but I observed all the

morning that he was in his most thoughtful mood, and he gave me the impression, from his vacant eyes and

his abstracted manner, of a man who is striving to recall something to his memory. We were in the middle of

our lunch when he suddenly sprang to his feet. "By Jove, Watson; I've got it!" he cried. "Take your hat!

Come with me!" He hurried at his top speed down Baker Street and along Oxford Street, until we had almost

reached Regent Circus. Here on the left hand there stands a shop window filled with photographs of the

celebrities and beauties of the day. Holmes's eyes fixed themselves upon one of them, and following his gaze

I saw the picture of a regal and stately lady in Court dress, with a high diamond tiara upon her noble head. I

looked at that delicatelycurved nose, at the marked eyebrows, at the straight mouth, and the strong little chin

beneath it. Then I caught my breath as I read the timehonoured title of the great nobleman and statesman

whose wife she had been. My eyes met those of Holmes, and he put his finger to his lips as we turned away

IT was no very unusual thing for Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, to look in upon us of an evening, and his

visits were welcome to Sherlock Holmes, for they enabled him to keep in touch with all that was going on at

the police headquarters. In return for the news which Lestrade would bring, Holmes was always ready to

listen with attention to the details of any case upon which the detective was engaged, and was able

occasionally, without any active interference, to give some hint or suggestion drawn from his own vast

On this particular evening Lestrade had spoken of the weather and the newspapers. Then he had fallen silent,

"Well, Mr. Holmes, there is no use denying that there IS something on my mind. And yet it is such an absurd

business that I hesitated to bother you about it. On the other hand, although it is trivial, it is undoubtedly

queer, and I know that you have a taste for all that is out of the common. But in my opinion it comes more in

"Madness, anyhow. And a queer madness too! You wouldn't think there was anyone living at this time of day

who had such a hatred of Napoleon the First that he would break any image of him that he could see."

"Exactly. That's what I said. But then, when the man commits burglary in order to break images which are

Lestrade took out his official notebook and refreshed his memory from its pages.

"The first case reported was four days ago," said he. "It was at the shop of Morse Hudson, who has a place for

the sale of pictures and statues in the Kennington Road. The assistant had left the front shop for an instant

when he heard a crash, and hurrying in he found a plaster bust of Napoleon, which stood with several other

works of art upon the counter, lying shivered into fragments. He rushed out into the road, but, although

several passersby declared that they had noticed a man run out of the shop, he could neither see anyone nor

could he find any means of identifying the rascal. It seemed to be one of those senseless acts of Hooliganism

which occur from time to time, and it was reported to the constable on the beat as such. The plaster cast was

not worth more than a few shillings, and the whole affair appeared to be too childish for any particular

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

"In Kennington Road, and within a few hundred yards of Morse Hudson's shop, there lives a wellknown

medical practitioner, named Dr. Barnicot, who has one of the largest practices upon the south side of the

Thames. His residence and principal consultingroom is at Kennington Road, but he has a branch surgery

and dispensary at Lower Brixton Road, two miles away. This Dr. Barnicot is an enthusiastic admirer of

Napoleon, and his house is full of books, pictures, and relics of the French Emperor. Some little time ago he

purchased from Morse Hudson two duplicate plaster casts of the famous head of Napoleon by the French

sculptor, Devine. One of these he placed in his hall in the house at Kennington Road, and the other on the

mantelpiece of the surgery at Lower Brixton. Well, when Dr. Barnicot came down this morning he was

astonished to find that his house had been burgled during the night, but that nothing had been taken save the

plaster head from the hall. It had been carried out and had been dashed savagely against the garden wall,

"I thought it would please you. But I have not got to the end yet. Dr. Barnicot was due at his surgery at twelve

o'clock, and you can imagine his amazement when, on arriving there, he found that the window had been

opened in the night, and that the broken pieces of his second bust were strewn all over the room. It had been

smashed to atoms where it stood. In neither case were there any signs which could give us a clue as to the

criminal or lunatic who had done the mischief. Now, Mr. Holmes, you have got the facts."

"They are singular, not to say grotesque," said Holmes. "May I ask whether the two busts smashed in Dr.

Barnicot's rooms were the exact duplicates of the one which was destroyed in Morse Hudson's shop?"

"Such a fact must tell against the theory that the man who breaks them is influenced by any general hatred of

Napoleon. Considering how many hundreds of statues of the great Emperor must exist in London, it is too

much to suppose such a coincidence as that a promiscuous iconoclast should chance to begin upon three

"Well, I thought as you do," said Lestrade. "On the other hand, this Morse Hudson is the purveyor of busts in

that part of London, and these three were the only ones which had been in his shop for years. So, although, as

you say, there are many hundreds of statues in London, it is very probable that these three were the only ones

in that district. Therefore, a local fanatic would begin with them. What do you think, Dr. Watson?"

"There are no limits to the possibilities of monomania," I answered. "There is the condition which the modern

French psychologists have called the `idee fixe,' which may be trifling in character, and accompanied by

complete sanity in every other way. A man who had read deeply about Napoleon, or who had possibly

received some hereditary family injury through the great war, might conceivably form such an `idee fixe' and

"That won't do, my dear Watson," said Holmes, shaking his head; "for no amount of `idee fixe' would enable

"I don't attempt to do so. I would only observe that there is a certain method in the gentleman's eccentric

proceedings. For example, in Dr. Barnicot's hall, where a sound might arouse the family, the bust was taken

outside before being broken, whereas in the surgery, where there was less danger of an alarm, it was smashed

where it stood. The affair seems absurdly trifling, and yet I dare call nothing trivial when I reflect that some

of my most classic cases have had the least promising commencement. You will remember, Watson, how the

dreadful business of the Abernetty family was first brought to my notice by the depth which the parsley had

sunk into the butter upon a hot day. I can't afford, therefore, to smile at your three broken busts, Lestrade, and

I shall be very much obliged to you if you will let me hear of any fresh developments of so singular a chain of

The development for which my friend had asked came in a quicker and an infinitely more tragic form than he

could have imagined. I was still dressing in my bedroom next morning when there was a tap at the door and

"Don't know may be anything. But I suspect it is the sequel of the story of the statues. In that case our

friend, the imagebreaker, has begun operations in another quarter of London. There's coffee on the table,

In half an hour we had reached Pitt Street, a quiet little backwater just beside one of the briskest currents of

London life. No. 131 was one of a row, all flatchested, respectable, and most unromantic dwellings. As we

drove up we found the railings in front of the house lined by a curious crowd. Holmes whistled.

"By George! it's attempted murder at the least. Nothing less will hold the London messageboy. There's a

deed of violence indicated in that fellow's round shoulders and outstretched neck. What's this, Watson? The

top steps swilled down and the other ones dry. Footsteps enough, anyhow! Well, well, there's Lestrade at the

The official received us with a very grave face and showed us into a sittingroom, where an exceedingly

unkempt and agitated elderly man, clad in a flannel dressinggown, was pacing up and down. He was

introduced to us as the owner of the house Mr. Horace Harker, of the Central Press Syndicate.

"It's the Napoleon bust business again," said Lestrade. "You seemed interested last night, Mr. Holmes, so I

thought perhaps you would be glad to be present now that the affair has taken a very much graver turn."

"To murder. Mr. Harker, will you tell these gentlemen exactly what has occurred?"

"It's an extraordinary thing," said he, "that all my life I have been collecting other people's news, and now that

a real piece of news has come my own way I am so confused and bothered that I can't put two words

together. If I had come in here as a journalist I should have interviewed myself and had two columns in every

evening paper. As it is I am giving away valuable copy by telling my story over and over to a string of

different people, and I can make no use of it myself. However, I've heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

and if you'll only explain this queer business I shall be paid for my trouble in telling you the story."

"It all seems to centre round that bust of Napoleon which I bought for this very room about four months ago.

I picked it up cheap from Harding Brothers, two doors from the High Street Station. A great deal of my

journalistic work is done at night, and I often write until the early morning. So it was today. I was sitting in

my den, which is at the back of the top of the house, about three o'clock, when I was convinced that I heard

some sounds downstairs. I listened, but they were not repeated, and I concluded that they came from outside.

Then suddenly, about five minutes later, there came a most horrible yell the most dreadful sound, Mr.

Holmes, that ever I heard. It will ring in my ears as long as I live. I sat frozen with horror for a minute or two.

Then I seized the poker and went downstairs. When I entered this room I found the window wide open, and I

at once observed that the bust was gone from the mantelpiece. Why any burglar should take such a thing

passes my understanding, for it was only a plaster cast and of no real value whatever.

"You can see for yourself that anyone going out through that open window could reach the front doorstep by

taking a long stride. This was clearly what the burglar had done, so I went round and opened the door.

Stepping out into the dark I nearly fell over a dead man who was lying there. I ran back for a light, and there

was the poor fellow, a great gash in his throat and the whole place swimming in blood. He lay on his back,

his knees drawn up, and his mouth horribly open. I shall see him in my dreams. I had just time to blow on my

policewhistle, and then I must have fainted, for I knew nothing more until I found the policeman standing

"There's nothing to show who he was," said Lestrade. "You shall see the body at the mortuary, but we have

made nothing of it up to now. He is a tall man, sunburned, very powerful, not more than thirty. He is poorly

dressed, and yet does not appear to be a labourer. A hornhandled clasp knife was lying in a pool of blood

beside him. Whether it was the weapon which did the deed, or whether it belonged to the dead man, I do not

know. There was no name on his clothing, and nothing in his pockets save an apple, some string, a shilling

It was evidently taken by a snapshot from a small camera. It represented an alert, sharpfeatured simian

man with thick eyebrows, and a very peculiar projection of the lower part of the face like the muzzle of a

"And what became of the bust?" asked Holmes, after a careful study of this picture.

"We had news of it just before you came. It has been found in the front garden of an empty house in

Campden House Road. It was broken into fragments. I am going round now to see it. Will you come?"

"Certainly. I must just take one look round." He examined the carpet and the window. "The fellow had either

very long legs or was a most active man," said he. "With an area beneath, it was no mean feat to reach that

windowledge and open that window. Getting back was comparatively simple. Are you coming with us to

"I must try and make something of it," said he, "though I have no doubt that the first editions of the evening

papers are out already with full details. It's like my luck! You remember when the stand fell at Doncaster?

Well, I was the only journalist in the stand, and my journal the only one that had no account of it, for I was

too shaken to write it. And now I'll be too late with a murder done on my own doorstep."

The spot where the fragments of the bust had been found was only a few hundred yards away. For the first

time our eyes rested upon this presentment of the great Emperor, which seemed to raise such frantic and

destructive hatred in the mind of the unknown. It lay scattered in splintered shards upon the grass. Holmes

picked up several of them and examined them carefully. I was convinced from his intent face and his

"We have a long way to go yet," said he. "And yet and yet well, we have some suggestive facts to act

upon. The possession of this trifling bust was worth more in the eyes of this strange criminal than a human

life. That is one point. Then there is the singular fact that he did not break it in the house, or immediately

"He was rattled and bustled by meeting this other fellow. He hardly knew what he was doing."

"Well, that's likely enough. But I wish to call your attention very particularly to the position of this house in

"It was an empty house, and so he knew that he would not be disturbed in the garden."

"Yes, but there is another empty house farther up the street which he must have passed before he came to this

one. Why did he not break it there, since it is evident that every yard that he carried it increased the risk of

"He could see what he was doing here and he could not there. That was his reason."

"By Jove! that's true," said the detective. "Now that I come to think of it, Dr. Barnicot's bust was broken not

"To remember it to docket it. We may come on something later which will bear upon it. What steps do

"The most practical way of getting at it, in my opinion, is to identify the dead man. There should be no

difficulty about that. When we have found who he is and who his associates are, we should have a good start

in learning what he was doing in Pitt Street last night, and who it was who met him and killed him on the

"No doubt; and yet it is not quite the way in which I should approach the case."

"Oh, you must not let me influence you in any way! I suggest that you go on your line and I on mine. We can

"If you are going back to Pitt Street you might see Mr. Horace Harker. Tell him from me that I have quite

made up my mind, and that it is certain that a dangerous homicidal lunatic with Napoleonic delusions was in

"Don't I? Well, perhaps I don't. But I am sure that it will interest Mr. Horace Harker and the subscribers of

the Central Press Syndicate. Now, Watson, I think that we shall find that we have a long and rather complex

day's work before us. I should be glad, Lestrade, if you could make it convenient to meet us at Baker Street at

six o'clock this evening. Until then I should like to keep this photograph found in the dead man's pocket. It is

possible that I may have to ask your company and assistance upon a small expedition which will have be

undertaken tonight, if my chain of reasoning should prove to be correct. Until then, goodbye and good

Sherlock Holmes and I walked together to the High Street, where he stopped at the shop of Harding Brothers,

whence the bust had been purchased. A young assistant informed us that Mr. Harding would be absent until

after noon, and that he was himself a newcomer who could give us no information. Holmes's face showed his

"Well, well, we can't expect to have it all our own way, Watson," he said, at last. "We must come back in the

afternoon if Mr. Harding will not be here until then. I am, as you have no doubt surmised, endeavouring to

trace these busts to their source, in order to find if there is not something peculiar which may account for their

remarkable fate. Let us make for Mr. Morse Hudson, of the Kennington Road, and see if he can throw any

A drive of an hour brought us to the picturedealer's establishment. He was a small, stout man with a red face

"Yes, sir. On my very counter, sir," said he. "What we pay rates and taxes for I don't know, when any ruffian

can come in and break one's goods. Yes, sir, it was I who sold Dr. Barnicot his two statues. Disgraceful, sir!

A Nihilist plot, that's what I make it. No one but an Anarchist would go about breaking statues. Red

republicans, that's what I call 'em. Who did I get the statues from? I don't see what that has to do with it.

Well, if you really want to know, I got them from Gelder and Co., in Church Street, Stepney. They are a

wellknown house in the trade, and have been this twenty years. How many had I? Three two and one are

three two of Dr. Barnicot's and one smashed in broad daylight on my own counter. Do I know that

photograph? No, I don't. Yes, I do, though. Why, it's Beppo. He was a kind of Italian piecework man, who

made himself useful in the shop. He could carve a bit and gild and frame, and do odd jobs. The fellow left me

last week, and I've heard nothing of him since. No, I don't know where he came from nor where he went to. I

have nothing against him while he was here. He was gone two days before the bust was smashed."

"Well, that's all we could reasonably expect to get from Morse Hudson," said Holmes, as we emerged from

the shop. "We have this Beppo as a common factor, both in Kennington and in Kensington, so that is worth a

tenmile drive. Now, Watson, let us make for Gelder and Co., of Stepney, the source and origin of busts. I

In rapid succession we passed through the fringe of fashionable London, hotel London, theatrical London,

literary London, commercial London, and, finally, maritime London, till we came to a riverside city of a

hundred thousand souls, where the tenement houses swelter and reek with the outcasts of Europe. Here, in a

broad thoroughfare, once the abode of wealthy City merchants, we found the sculpture works for which we

searched. Outside was a considerable yard full of monumental masonry. Inside was a large room in which

fifty workers were carving or moulding. The manager, a big blond German, received us civilly, and gave a

clear answer to all Holmes's questions. A reference to his books showed that hundreds of casts had been

taken from a marble copy of Devine's head of Napoleon, but that the three which had been sent to Morse

Hudson a year or so before had been half of a batch of six, the other three being sent to Harding Brothers, of

Kensington. There was no reason why those six should be different to any of the other casts. He could

suggest no possible cause why anyone should wish to destroy them in fact, he laughed at the idea. Their

wholesale price was six shillings, but the retailer would get twelve or more. The cast was taken in two moulds

from each side of the face, and then these two profiles of plaster of Paris were joined together to make the

complete bust. The work was usually done by Italians in the room we were in. When finished the busts were

put on a table in the passage to dry, and afterwards stored. That was all he could tell us.

But the production of the photograph had a remarkable effect upon the manager. His face flushed with anger,

"Ah, the rascal!" he cried. "Yes, indeed, I know him very well. This has always been a respectable

establishment, and the only time that we have ever had the police in it was over this very fellow. It was more

than a year ago now. He knifed another Italian in the street, and then he came to the works with the police on

his heels, and he was taken here. Beppo was his name his second name I never knew. Serve me right for

"The man lived and he got off with a year. I have no doubt he is out now; but he has not dared to show his

nose here. We have a cousin of his here, and I dare say he could tell you where he is."

"No, no," cried Holmes, "not a word to the cousin not a word, I beg you. The matter is very important, and

the farther I go with it the more important it seems to grow. When you referred in your ledger to the sale of

those casts I observed that the date was June 3rd of last year. Could you give me the date when Beppo was

"I could tell you roughly by the paylist," the manager answered. "Yes," he continued, after some turning

"Thank you," said Holmes. "I don't think that I need intrude upon your time and patience any more." With a

last word of caution that he should say nothing as to our researches we turned our faces westward once more.

The afternoon was far advanced before we were able to snatch a hasty luncheon at a restaurant. A newsbill

at the entrance announced "Kensington Outrage. Murder by a Madman," and the contents of the paper

showed that Mr. Horace Harker had got his account into print after all. Two columns were occupied with a

highly sensational and flowery rendering of the whole incident. Holmes propped it against the cruetstand

"This is all right, Watson," said he. "Listen to this: `It is satisfactory to know that there can be no difference

of opinion upon this case, since Mr. Lestrade, one of the most experienced members of the official force, and

Mr. Sherlock Holmes, the wellknown consulting expert, have each come to the conclusion that the

grotesque series of incidents, which have ended in so tragic a fashion, arise from lunacy rather than from

deliberate crime. No explanation save mental aberration can cover the facts.' The Press, Watson, is a most

valuable institution if you only know how to use it. And now, if you have quite finished, we will hark back to

Kensington and see what the manager of Harding Brothers has to say to the matter."

The founder of that great emporium proved to be a brisk, crisp little person, very dapper and quick, with a

"Yes, sir, I have already read the account in the evening papers. Mr. Horace Harker is a customer of ours. We

supplied him with the bust some months ago. We ordered three busts of that sort from Gelder and Co., of

Stepney. They are all sold now. To whom? Oh, I dare say by consulting our sales book we could very easily

tell you. Yes, we have the entries here. One to Mr. Harker, you see, and one to Mr. Josiah Brown, of

Laburnum Lodge, Laburnum Vale, Chiswick, and one to Mr. Sandeford, of Lower Grove Road, Reading. No,

I have never seen this face which you show me in the photograph. You would hardly forget it, would you, sir,

for I've seldom seen an uglier. Have we any Italians on the staff? Yes, sir, we have several among our

workpeople and cleaners. I dare say they might get a peep at that sales book if they wanted to. There is no

particular reason for keeping a watch upon that book. Well, well, it's a very strange business, and I hope that

Holmes had taken several notes during Mr. Harding's evidence, and I could see that he was thoroughly

satisfied by the turn which affairs were taking. He made no remark, however, save that, unless we hurried, we

should be late for our appointment with Lestrade. Sure enough, when we reached Baker Street the detective

was already there, and we found him pacing up and down in a fever of impatience. His look of importance

"We have had a very busy day, and not entirely a wasted one," my friend explained. "We have seen both the

retailers and also the wholesale manufacturers. I can trace each of the busts now from the beginning."

"The busts!" cried Lestrade. "Well, well, you have your own methods, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and it is not for

me to say a word against them, but I think I have done a better day's work than you. I have identified the dead

"We have an inspector who makes a specialty of Saffron Hill and the Italian quarter. Well, this dead man had

some Catholic emblem round his neck, and that, along with his colour, made me think he was from the South.

Inspector Hill knew him the moment he caught sight of him. His name is Pietro Venucci, from Naples, and he

is one of the greatest cutthroats in London. He is connected with the Mafia, which, as you know, is a secret

political society, enforcing its decrees by murder. Now you see how the affair begins to clear up. The other

fellow is probably an Italian also, and a member of the Mafia. He has broken the rules in some fashion. Pietro

is set upon his track. Probably the photograph we found in his pocket is the man himself, so that he may not

knife the wrong person. He dogs the fellow, he sees him enter a house, he waits outside for him, and in the

"Excellent, Lestrade, excellent!" he cried. "But I didn't quite follow your explanation of the destruction of the

"The busts! You never can get those busts out of your head. After all, that is nothing; petty larceny, six

months at the most. It is the murder that we are really investigating, and I tell you that I am gathering all the

"Is a very simple one. I shall go down with Hill to the Italian quarter, find the man whose photograph we

"I think not. I fancy we can attain our end in a simpler way. I can't say for certain, because it all depends

well, it all depends upon a factor which is completely outside our control. But I have great hopes in fact,

the betting is exactly two to one that if you will come with us tonight I shall be able to help you to lay

"No; I fancy Chiswick is an address which is more likely to find him. If you will come with me to Chiswick

tonight, Lestrade, I'll promise to go to the Italian quarter with you tomorrow, and no harm will be done by

the delay. And now I think that a few hours' sleep would do us all good, for I do not propose to leave before

eleven o'clock, and it is unlikely that we shall be back before morning. You'll dine with us, Lestrade, and then

you are welcome to the sofa until it is time for us to start. In the meantime, Watson, I should be glad if you

would ring for an express messenger, for I have a letter to send, and it is important that it should go at once."

Holmes spent the evening in rummaging among the files of the old daily papers with which one of our

lumberrooms was packed. When at last he descended it was with triumph in his eyes, but he said nothing to

either of us as to the result of his researches. For my own part, I had followed step by step the methods by

which he had traced the various windings of this complex case, and, though I could not yet perceive the goal

which we would reach, I understood clearly that Holmes expected this grotesque criminal to make an attempt

upon the two remaining busts, one of which, I remembered, was at Chiswick. No doubt the object of our

journey was to catch him in the very act, and I could not but admire the cunning with which my friend had

inserted a wrong clue in the evening paper, so as to give the fellow the idea that he could continue his scheme

with impunity. I was not surprised when Holmes suggested that I should take my revolver with me. He had

A fourwheeler was at the door at eleven, and in it we drove to a spot at the other side of Hammersmith

Bridge. Here the cabman was directed to wait. A short walk brought us to a secluded road fringed with

pleasant houses, each standing in its own grounds. In the light of a street lamp we read "Laburnum Villa"

upon the gatepost of one of them. The occupants had evidently retired to rest, for all was dark save for a

fanlight over the hall door, which shed a single blurred circle on to the garden path. The wooden fence which

separated the grounds from the road threw a dense black shadow upon the inner side, and here it was that we

"I fear that you'll have a long wait," Holmes whispered. "We may thank our stars that it is not raining. I don't

think we can even venture to smoke to pass the time. However, it's a two to one chance that we get something

It proved, however, that our vigil was not to be so long as Holmes had led us to fear, and it ended in a very

sudden and singular fashion. In an instant, without the least sound to warn us of his coming, the garden gate

swung open, and a lithe, dark figure, as swift and active as an ape, rushed up the garden path. We saw it

whisk past the light thrown from over the door and disappear against the black shadow of the house. There

was a long pause, during which we held our breath, and then a very gentle creaking sound came to our ears.

The window was being opened. The noise ceased, and again there was a long silence. The fellow was making

his way into the house. We saw the sudden flash of a dark lantern inside the room. What he sought was

evidently not there, for again we saw the flash through another blind, and then through another.

"Let us get to the open window. We will nab him as he climbs out," Lestrade whispered.

But before we could move the man had emerged again. As he came out into the glimmering patch of light we

saw that he carried something white under his arm. He looked stealthily all round him. The silence of the

deserted street reassured him. Turning his back upon us he laid down his burden, and the next instant there

was the sound of a sharp tap, followed by a clatter and rattle. The man was so intent upon what he was doing

that he never heard our steps as we stole across the grass plot. With the bound of a tiger Holmes was on his

back, and an instant later Lestrade and I had him by either wrist and the handcuffs had been fastened. As we

turned him over I saw a hideous, sallow face, with writhing, furious features, glaring up at us, and I knew that

But it was not our prisoner to whom Holmes was giving his attention. Squatted on the doorstep, he was

engaged in most carefully examining that which the man had brought from the house. It was a bust of

Napoleon like the one which we had seen that morning, and it had been broken into similar fragments.

Carefully Holmes held each separate shard to the light, but in no way did it differ from any other shattered

piece of plaster. He had just completed his examination when the hall lights flew up, the door opened, and the

owner of the house, a jovial, rotund figure in shirt and trousers, presented himself.

"Yes, sir; and you, no doubt, are Mr. Sherlock Holmes? I had the note which you sent by the express

messenger, and I did exactly what you told me. We locked every door on the inside and awaited

developments. Well, I'm very glad to see that you have got the rascal. I hope, gentlemen, that you will come

However, Lestrade was anxious to get his man into safe quarters, so within a few minutes our cab had been

summoned and we were all four upon our way to London. Not a word would our captive say; but he glared at

us from the shadow of his matted hair, and once, when my hand seemed within his reach, he snapped at it like

a hungry wolf. We stayed long enough at the policestation to learn that a search of his clothing revealed

nothing save a few shillings and a long sheath knife, the handle of which bore copious traces of recent blood.

"That's all right," said Lestrade, as we parted. "Hill knows all these gentry, and he will give a name to him.

You'll find that my theory of the Mafia will work out all right. But I'm sure I am exceedingly obliged to you,

Mr. Holmes, for the workmanlike way in which you laid hands upon him. I don't quite understand it all yet."

"I fear it is rather too late an hour for explanations," said Holmes. "Besides, there are one or two details which

are not finished off, and it is one of those cases which are worth working out to the very end. If you will come

round once more to my rooms at six o'clock tomorrow I think I shall be able to show you that even now you

have not grasped the entire meaning of this business, which presents some features which make it absolutely

original in the history of crime. If ever I permit you to chronicle any more of my little problems, Watson, I

foresee that you will enliven your pages by an account of the singular adventure of the Napoleonic busts."

When we met again next evening Lestrade was furnished with much information concerning our prisoner.

His name, it appeared, was Beppo, second name unknown. He was a wellknown ne'erdowell among the

Italian colony. He had once been a skilful sculptor and had earned an honest living, but he had taken to evil

courses and had twice already been in gaol once for a petty theft and once, as we had already heard, for

stabbing a fellowcountryman. He could talk English perfectly well. His reasons for destroying the busts

were still unknown, and he refused to answer any questions upon the subject; but the police had discovered

that these same busts might very well have been made by his own hands, since he was engaged in this class

of work at the establishment of Gelder and Co. To all this information, much of which we already knew,

Holmes listened with polite attention; but I, who knew him so well, could clearly see that his thoughts were

elsewhere, and I detected a mixture of mingled uneasiness and expectation beneath that mask which he was

wont to assume. At last he started in his chair and his eyes brightened. There had been a ring at the bell. A

minute later we heard steps upon the stairs, and an elderly, redfaced man with grizzled sidewhiskers was

ushered in. In his right hand he carried an oldfashioned carpetbag, which he placed upon the table.

"Yes, sir, I fear that I am a little late; but the trains were awkward. You wrote to me about a bust that is in my

"I have your letter here. You said, `I desire to possess a copy of Devine's Napoleon, and am prepared to pay

"I was very much surprised at your letter, for I could not imagine how you knew that I owned such a thing."

"Of course you must have been surprised, but the explanation is very simple. Mr. Harding, of Harding

Brothers, said that they had sold you their last copy, and he gave me your address."

"Well, I am an honest man, though not a very rich one. I only gave fifteen shillings for the bust, and I think

"I am sure the scruple does you honour, Mr. Sandeford. But I have named that price, so I intend to stick to it."

"Well, it is very handsome of you, Mr. Holmes. I brought the bust up with me, as you asked me to do. Here it

is!" He opened his bag, and at last we saw placed upon our table a complete specimen of that bust which we

"You will kindly sign that paper, Mr. Sandeford, in the presence of these witnesses. It is simply to say that

you transfer every possible right that you ever had in the bust to me. I am a methodical man, you see, and you

never know what turn events might take afterwards. Thank you, Mr. Sandeford; here is your money, and I

When our visitor had disappeared Sherlock Holmes's movements were such as to rivet our attention. He

began by taking a clean white cloth from a drawer and laying it over the table. Then he placed his

newlyacquired bust in the centre of the cloth. Finally, he picked up his huntingcrop and struck Napoleon a

sharp blow on the top of the head. The figure broke into fragments, and Holmes bent eagerly over the

shattered remains. Next instant, with a loud shout of triumph, he held up one splinter, in which a round, dark

"Gentlemen," he cried, "let me introduce you to the famous black pearl of the Borgias."

Lestrade and I sat silent for a moment, and then, with a spontaneous impulse, we both broke out clapping as

at the wellwrought crisis of a play. A flush of colour sprang to Holmes's pale cheeks, and he bowed to us

like the master dramatist who receives the homage of his audience. It was at such moments that for an instant

he ceased to be a reasoning machine, and betrayed his human love for admiration and applause. The same

singularly proud and reserved nature which turned away with disdain from popular notoriety was capable of

"Yes, gentlemen," said he, "it is the most famous pearl now existing in the world, and it has been my good

fortune, by a connected chain of inductive reasoning, to trace it from the Prince of Colonna's bedroom at the

Dacre Hotel, where it was lost, to the interior of this, the last of the six busts of Napoleon which were

manufactured by Gelder and Co., of Stepney. You will remember, Lestrade, the sensation caused by the

disappearance of this valuable jewel, and the vain efforts of the London police to recover it. I was myself

consulted upon the case; but I was unable to throw any light upon it. Suspicion fell upon the maid of the

Princess, who was an Italian, and it was proved that she had a brother in London, but we failed to trace any

connection between them. The maid's name was Lucretia Venucci, and there is no doubt in my mind that this

Pietro who was murdered two nights ago was the brother. I have been looking up the dates in the old files of

the paper, and I find that the disappearance of the pearl was exactly two days before the arrest of Beppo for

some crime of violence, an event which took place in the factory of Gelder and Co., at the very moment when

these busts were being made. Now you clearly see the sequence of events, though you see them, of course, in

the inverse order to the way in which they presented themselves to me. Beppo had the pearl in his possession.

He may have stolen it from Pietro, he may have been Pietro's confederate, he may have been the gobetween

of Pietro and his sister. It is of no consequence to us which is the correct solution.

"The main fact is that he HAD the pearl, and at that moment, when it was on his person, he was pursued by

the police. He made for the factory in which he worked, and he knew that he had only a few minutes in which

to conceal this enormously valuable prize, which would otherwise be found on him when he was searched.

Six plaster casts of Napoleon were drying in the passage. One of them was still soft. In an instant Beppo, a

skilful workman, made a small hole in the wet plaster, dropped in the pearl, and with a few touches covered

over the aperture once more. It was an admirable hidingplace. No one could possibly find it. But Beppo was

condemned to a year's imprisonment, and in the meanwhile his six busts were scattered over London. He

could not tell which contained his treasure. Only by breaking them could he see. Even shaking would tell him

nothing, for as the plaster was wet it was probable that the pearl would adhere to it as, in fact, it has done.

Beppo did not despair, and he conducted his search with considerable ingenuity and perseverance. Through a

cousin who works with Gelder he found out the retail firms who had bought the busts. He managed to find

employment with Morse Hudson, and in that way tracked down three of them. The pearl was not there. Then,

with the help of some Italian EMPLOYE, he succeeded in finding out where the other three busts had gone.

The first was at Harker's. There he was dogged by his confederate, who held Beppo responsible for the loss

"As a means of tracing him if he wished to inquire about him from any third person. That was the obvious

reason. Well, after the murder I calculated that Beppo would probably hurry rather than delay his movements.

He would fear that the police would read his secret, and so he hastened on before they should get ahead of

him. Of course, I could not say that he had not found the pearl in Harker's bust. I had not even concluded for

certain that it was the pearl; but it was evident to me that he was looking for something, since he carried the

bust past the other houses in order to break it in the garden which had a lamp overlooking it. Since Harker's

bust was one in three the chances were exactly as I told you, two to one against the pearl being inside it.

There remained two busts, and it was obvious that he would go for the London one first. I warned the inmates

of the house, so as to avoid a second tragedy, and we went down with the happiest results. By that time, of

course, I knew for certain that it was the Borgia pearl that we were after. The name of the murdered man

linked the one event with the other. There only remained a single bust the Reading one and the pearl

"Well," said Lestrade, "I've seen you handle a good many cases, Mr. Holmes, but I don't know that I ever

knew a more workmanlike one than that. We're not jealous of you at Scotland Yard. No, sir, we are very

proud of you, and if you come down tomorrow there's not a man, from the oldest inspector to the youngest

"Thank you!" said Holmes. "Thank you!" and as he turned away it seemed to me that he was more nearly

moved by the softer human emotions than I had ever seen him. A moment later he was the cold and practical

thinker once more. "Put the pearl in the safe, Watson," said he, "and get out the papers of the ConkSingleton

forgery case. Goodbye, Lestrade. If any little problem comes your way I shall be happy, if I can, to give you

IT was in the year '95 that a combination of events, into which I need not enter, caused Mr. Sherlock Holmes

and myself to spend some weeks in one of our great University towns, and it was during this time that the

small but instructive adventure which I am about to relate befell us. It will be obvious that any details which

would help the reader to exactly identify the college or the criminal would be injudicious and offensive. So

painful a scandal may well be allowed to die out. With due discretion the incident itself may, however, be

described, since it serves to illustrate some of those qualities for which my friend was remarkable. I will

endeavour in my statement to avoid such terms as would serve to limit the events to any particular place, or

We were residing at the time in furnished lodgings close to a library where Sherlock Holmes was pursuing

some laborious researches in early English charters researches which led to results so striking that they

may be the subject of one of my future narratives. Here it was that one evening we received a visit from an

acquaintance, Mr. Hilton Soames, tutor and lecturer at the College of St. Luke's. Mr. Soames was a tall, spare

man, of a nervous and excitable temperament. I had always known him to be restless in his manner, but on

this particular occasion he was in such a state of uncontrollable agitation that it was clear something very

"I trust, Mr. Holmes, that you can spare me a few hours of your valuable time. We have had a very painful

incident at St. Luke's, and really, but for the happy chance of your being in the town, I should have been at a

"I am very busy just now, and I desire no distractions," my friend answered. "I should much prefer that you

"No, no, my dear sir; such a course is utterly impossible. When once the law is evoked it cannot be stayed

again, and this is just one of those cases where, for the credit of the college, it is most essential to avoid

scandal. Your discretion is as well known as your powers, and you are the one man in the world who can help

My friend's temper had not improved since he had been deprived of the congenial surroundings of Baker

Street. Without his scrapbooks, his chemicals, and his homely untidiness, he was an uncomfortable man. He

shrugged his shoulders in ungracious acquiescence, while our visitor in hurried words and with much

"I must explain to you, Mr. Holmes, that tomorrow is the first day of the examination for the Fortescue

Scholarship. I am one of the examiners. My subject is Greek, and the first of the papers consists of a large

passage of Greek translation which the candidate has not seen. This passage is printed on the examination

paper, and it would naturally be an immense advantage if the candidate could prepare it in advance. For this

"Today about three o'clock the proofs of this paper arrived from the printers. The exercise consists of half a

chapter of Thucydides. I had to read it over carefully, as the text must be absolutely correct. At fourthirty

my task was not yet completed. I had, however, promised to take tea in a friend's rooms, so I left the proof

"You are aware, Mr. Holmes, that our college doors are double a green baize one within and a heavy oak

one without. As I approached my outer door I was amazed to see a key in it. For an instant I imagined that I

had left my own there, but on feeling in my pocket I found that it was all right. The only duplicate which

existed, so far as I knew, was that which belonged to my servant, Bannister, a man who has looked after my

room for ten years, and whose honesty is absolutely above suspicion. I found that the key was indeed his, that

he had entered my room to know if I wanted tea, and that he had very carelessly left the key in the door when

he came out. His visit to my room must have been within a very few minutes of my leaving it. His

forgetfulness about the key would have mattered little upon any other occasion, but on this one day it has

"The moment I looked at my table I was aware that someone had rummaged among my papers. The proof

was in three long slips. I had left them all together. Now, I found that one of them was lying on the floor, one

"The first page on the floor, the second in the window, the third where you left it," said he.

"For an instant I imagined that Bannister had taken the unpardonable liberty of examining my papers. He

denied it, however, with the utmost earnestness, and I am convinced that he was speaking the truth. The

alternative was that someone passing had observed the key in the door, had known that I was out, and had

entered to look at the papers. A large sum of money is at stake, for the scholarship is a very valuable one, and

an unscrupulous man might very well run a risk in order to gain an advantage over his fellows.

"Bannister was very much upset by the incident. He had nearly fainted when we found that the papers had

undoubtedly been tampered with. I gave him a little brandy and left him collapsed in a chair while I made a

most careful examination of the room. I soon saw that the intruder had left other traces of his presence

besides the rumpled papers. On the table in the window were several shreds from a pencil which had been

sharpened. A broken tip of lead was lying there also. Evidently the rascal had copied the paper in a great

hurry, had broken his pencil, and had been compelled to put a fresh point to it."

"Excellent!" said Holmes, who was recovering his goodhumour as his attention became more engrossed by

"This was not all. I have a new writingtable with a fine surface of red leather. I am prepared to swear, and so

is Bannister, that it was smooth and unstained. Now I found a clean cut in it about three inches long not a

mere scratch, but a positive cut. Not only this, but on the table I found a small ball of black dough, or clay,

with specks of something which looks like sawdust in it. I am convinced that these marks were left by the

man who rifled the papers. There were no footmarks and no other evidence as to his identity. I was at my

wits' ends, when suddenly the happy thought occurred to me that you were in the town, and I came straight

round to put the matter into your hands. Do help me, Mr. Holmes! You see my dilemma. Either I must find

the man or else the examination must be postponed until fresh papers are prepared, and since this cannot be

done without explanation there will ensue a hideous scandal, which will throw a cloud not only on the

college, but on the University. Above all things I desire to settle the matter quietly and discreetly."

"I shall be happy to look into it and to give you such advice as I can," said Holmes, rising and putting on his

overcoat. "The case is not entirely devoid of interest. Had anyone visited you in your room after the papers

"Yes; young Daulat Ras, an Indian student who lives on the same stair, came in to ask me some particulars

"He was very ill, poor fellow. I left him collapsed in the chair. I was in such a hurry to come to you."

"Then it amounts to this, Mr. Soames, that unless the Indian student recognised the roll as being proofs, the

man who tampered with them came upon them accidentally without knowing that they were there."

"Well," said he, "let us go round. Not one of your cases, Watson mental, not physical. All right; come if

The sittingroom of our client opened by a long, low, latticed window on to the ancient lichentinted court of

the old college. A Gothic arched door led to a worn stone staircase. On the ground floor was the tutor's room.

Above were three students, one on each story. It was already twilight when we reached the scene of our

problem. Holmes halted and looked earnestly at the window. Then he approached it, and, standing on tiptoe

"He must have entered through the door. There is no opening except the one pane," said our learned guide.

"Dear me!" said Holmes, and he smiled in a singular way as he glanced at our companion. "Well, if there is

The lecturer unlocked the outer door and ushered us into his room. We stood at the entrance while Holmes

"I am afraid there are no signs here," said he. "One could hardly hope for any upon so dry a day. Your servant

"I see. Near this little table. You can come in now. I have finished with the carpet. Let us take the little table

first. Of course, what has happened is very clear. The man entered and took the papers, sheet by sheet, from

the central table. He carried them over to the window table, because from there he could see if you came

"As a matter of fact he could not," said Soames, "for I entered by the side door."

"Ah, that's good! Well, anyhow, that was in his mind. Let me see the three strips. No finger impressions

no! Well, he carried over this one first and he copied it. How long would it take him to do that, using every

possible contraction? A quarter of an hour, not less. Then he tossed it down and seized the next. He was in

the midst of that when your return caused him to make a very hurried retreat VERY hurried, since he had

not time to replace the papers which would tell you that he had been there. You were not aware of any

"Well, he wrote so furiously that he broke his pencil, and had, as you observe, to sharpen it again. This is of

interest, Watson. The pencil was not an ordinary one. It was above the usual size, with a soft lead; the outer

colour was dark blue, the maker's name was printed in silver lettering, and the piece remaining is only about

an inch and a half long. Look for such a pencil, Mr. Soames, and you have got your man. When I add that he

Mr. Soames was somewhat overwhelmed by this flood of information. "I can follow the other points," said

Holmes held out a small chip with the letters NN and a space of clear wood after them.

"Watson, I have always done you an injustice. There are others. What could this NN be? It is at the end of a

word. You are aware that Johann Faber is the most common maker's name. Is it not clear that there is just as

much of the pencil left as usually follows the Johann?" He held the small table sideways to the electric light.

"I was hoping that if the paper on which he wrote was thin some trace of it might come through upon this

polished surface. No, I see nothing. I don't think there is anything more to be learned here. Now for the

central table. This small pellet is, I presume, the black, doughy mass you spoke of. Roughly pyramidal in

shape and hollowed out, I perceive. As you say, there appear to be grains of sawdust in it. Dear me, this is

very interesting. And the cut a positive tear, I see. It began with a thin scratch and ended in a jagged hole.

I am much indebted to you for directing my attention to this case, Mr. Soames. Where does that door lead

"I should like to have a glance round. What a charming, oldfashioned room! Perhaps you will kindly wait a

minute until I have examined the floor. No, I see nothing. What about this curtain? You hang your clothes

behind it. If anyone were forced to conceal himself in this room he must do it there, since the bed is too low

As Holmes drew the curtain I was aware, from some little rigidity and alertness of his attitude, that he was

prepared for an emergency. As a matter of fact the drawn curtain disclosed nothing but three or four suits of

clothes hanging from a line of pegs. Holmes turned away and stooped suddenly to the floor.

It was a small pyramid of black, puttylike stuff, exactly like the one upon the table of the study. Holmes

"Your visitor seems to have left traces in your bedroom as well as in your sittingroom, Mr. Soames."

"I think it is clear enough. You came back by an unexpected way, and so he had no warning until you were at

the very door. What could he do? He caught up everything which would betray him and he rushed into your

"Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, do you mean to tell me that all the time I was talking to Bannister in this room

"Surely there is another alternative, Mr. Holmes. I don't know whether you observed my bedroom window?"

"Latticepaned, lead framework, three separate windows, one swinging on hinge and large enough to admit a

"Exactly. And it looks out on an angle of the courtyard so as to be partly invisible. The man might have

effected his entrance there, left traces as he passed through the bedroom, and, finally, finding the door open

"Let us be practical," said he. "I understand you to say that there are three students who use this stair and are

"It is a very delicate question," said he. "One hardly likes to throw suspicion where there are no proofs."

"I will tell you, then, in a few words the character of the three men who inhabit these rooms. The lower of the

three is Gilchrist, a fine scholar and athlete; plays in the Rugby team and the cricket team for the college, and

got his Blue for the hurdles and the long jump. He is a fine, manly fellow. His father was the notorious Sir

Jabez Gilchrist, who ruined himself on the turf. My scholar has been left very poor, but he is hardworking

"The second floor is inhabited by Daulat Ras, the Indian. He is a quiet, inscrutable fellow, as most of those

Indians are. He is well up in his work, though his Greek is his weak subject. He is steady and methodical.

"The top floor belongs to Miles McLaren. He is a brilliant fellow when he chooses to work one of the

brightest intellects of the University, but he is wayward, dissipated, and unprincipled. He was nearly expelled

over a card scandal in his first year. He has been idling all this term, and he must look forward with dread to

"I dare not go so far as that. But of the three he is perhaps the least unlikely."

He was a little, whitefaced, cleanshaven, grizzlyhaired fellow of fifty. He was still suffering from this

sudden disturbance of the quiet routine of his life. His plump face was twitching with his nervousness, and

"Was it not very extraordinary that you should do this on the very day when there were these papers inside?"

"It was most unfortunate, sir. But I have occasionally done the same thing at other times."

"I had the teatray in my hand. I thought I would come back for the key. Then I forgot."

"Yes, sir. Such a thing has never happened during the many years that I have been here. I nearly fainted, sir."

"That is singular, because you sat down in that chair over yonder near the corner. Why did you pass these

"I really don't think he knew much about it, Mr. Holmes. He was looking very bad quite ghastly."

"Oh, I would not venture to say, sir. I don't believe there is any gentleman in this University who is capable

"Thank you; that will do," said Holmes. "Oh, one more word. You have not mentioned to any of the three

"Very good. Now, Mr. Soames, we will take a walk in the quadrangle, if you please."

"Your three birds are all in their nests," said Holmes, looking up. "Halloa! What's that? One of them seems

It was the Indian, whose dark silhouette appeared suddenly upon his blind. He was pacing swiftly up and

"No difficulty in the world," Soames answered. "This set of rooms is quite the oldest in the college, and it is

not unusual for visitors to go over them. Come along, and I will personally conduct you."

"No names, please!" said Holmes, as we knocked at Gilchrist's door. A tall, flaxenhaired, slim young fellow

opened it, and made us welcome when he understood our errand. There were some really curious pieces of

mediaeval domestic architecture within. Holmes was so charmed with one of them that he insisted on

drawing it on his notebook, broke his pencil, had to borrow one from our host, and finally borrowed a knife

to sharpen his own. The same curious accident happened to him in the rooms of the Indian a silent, little,

hooknosed fellow, who eyed us askance and was obviously glad when Holmes's architectural studies had

come to an end. I could not see that in either case Holmes had come upon the clue for which he was

searching. Only at the third did our visit prove abortive. The outer door would not open to our knock, and

nothing more substantial than a torrent of bad language came from behind it. "I don't care who you are. You

can go to blazes!" roared the angry voice. "Tomorrow's the exam, and I won't be drawn by anyone."

"A rude fellow," said our guide, flushing with anger as we withdrew down the stair. "Of course, he did not

realize that it was I who was knocking, but none the less his conduct was very uncourteous, and, indeed,

"Really, Mr. Holmes, I cannot undertake to say. He is taller than the Indian, not so tall as Gilchrist. I suppose

"That is very important," said Holmes. "And now, Mr. Soames, I wish you goodnight."

Our guide cried aloud in his astonishment and dismay. "Good gracious, Mr. Holmes, you are surely not going

to leave me in this abrupt fashion! You don't seem to realize the position. Tomorrow is the examination. I

must take some definite action tonight. I cannot allow the examination to be held if one of the papers has

"You must leave it as it is. I shall drop round early tomorrow morning and chat the matter over. It is

possible that I may be in a position then to indicate some course of action. Meanwhile you change nothing

"You can be perfectly easy in your mind. We shall certainly find some way out of your difficulties. I will take

When we were out in the darkness of the quadrangle we again looked up at the windows. The Indian still

"Well, Watson, what do you think of it?" Holmes asked, as we came out into the main street. "Quite a little

parlour game sort of threecard trick, is it not? There are your three men. It must be one of them. You

"The foulmouthed fellow at the top. He is the one with the worst record. And yet that Indian was a sly

"There is nothing in that. Many men do it when they are trying to learn anything by heart."

"So would you if a flock of strangers came in on you when you were preparing for an examination next day,

and every moment was of value. No, I see nothing in that. Pencils, too, and knives all was satisfactory.

"So he did me. That's the puzzling part. Why should a perfectly honest man well, well, here's a large

There were only four stationers of any consequence in the town, and at each Holmes produced his pencil

chips and bid high for a duplicate. All were agreed that one could be ordered, but that it was not a usual size

of pencil and that it was seldom kept in stock. My friend did not appear to be depressed by his failure, but

"No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final clue, has run to nothing. But, indeed, I have little

doubt that we can build up a sufficient case without it. By Jove! my dear fellow, it is nearly nine, and the

landlady babbled of green peas at seventhirty. What with your eternal tobacco, Watson, and your

irregularity at meals, I expect that you will get notice to quit and that I shall share your downfall not,

however, before we have solved the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant, and the three

Holmes made no further allusion to the matter that day, though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our

belated dinner. At eight in the morning he came into my room just as I finished my toilet.

"Well, Watson," said he, "it is time we went down to St. Luke's. Can you do without breakfast?"

"Soames will be in a dreadful fidget until we are able to tell him something positive."

"Aha! It is not for nothing that I have turned myself out of bed at the untimely hour of six. I have put in two

hours' hard work and covered at least five miles, with something to show for it. Look at that!"

He held out his hand. On the palm were three little pyramids of black, doughy clay.

"And one more this morning. It is a fair argument that wherever No. 3 came from is also the source of Nos. 1

The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiable agitation when we found him in his chambers. In a

few hours the examination would commence, and he was still in the dilemma between making the facts

public and allowing the culprit to compete for the valuable scholarship. He could hardly stand still, so great

was his mental agitation, and he ran towards Holmes with two eager hands outstretched.

"Thank Heaven that you have come! I feared that you had given it up in despair. What am I to do? Shall the

"I think so. If this matter is not to become public we must give ourselves certain powers, and resolve

ourselves into a small private courtmartial. You there, if you please, Soames! Watson, you here! I'll take the

armchair in the middle. I think that we are now sufficiently imposing to strike terror into a guilty breast.

Bannister entered, and shrunk back in evident surprise and fear at our judicial appearance.

"You will kindly close the door," said Holmes. "Now, Bannister, will you please tell us the truth about

"Well, then, I must make some suggestions to you. When you sat down on that chair yesterday, did you do so

in order to conceal some object which would have shown who had been in the room?"

"It is only a suggestion," said Holmes, suavely. "I frankly admit that I am unable to prove it. But it seems

probable enough, since the moment that Mr. Soames's back was turned you released the man who was hiding

"Ah, that's a pity, Bannister. Up to now you may have spoken the truth, but now I know that you have lied."

"In that case you can give us no further information. Would you please remain in the room? Stand over there

near the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I am going to ask you to have the great kindness to go up to the room

An instant later the tutor returned, bringing with him the student. He was a fine figure of a man, tall, lithe,

and agile, with a springy step and a pleasant, open face. His troubled blue eyes glanced at each of us, and

finally rested with an expression of blank dismay upon Bannister in the farther corner.

"Just close the door," said Holmes. "Now, Mr. Gilchrist, we are all quite alone here, and no one need ever

know one word of what passes between us. We can be perfectly frank with each other. We want to know, Mr.

Gilchrist, how you, an honourable man, ever came to commit such an action as that of yesterday?"

The unfortunate young man staggered back and cast a look full of horror and reproach at Bannister.

"No, no, Mr. Gilchrist, sir; I never said a word never one word!" cried the servant.

"No, but you have now," said Holmes. "Now, sir, you must see that after Bannister's words your position is

For a moment Gilchrist, with upraised hand, tried to control his writhing features. The next he had thrown

himself on his knees beside the table and, burying his face in his hands, he had burst into a storm of

"Come, come," said Holmes, kindly; "it is human to err, and at least no one can accuse you of being a callous

criminal. Perhaps it would be easier for you if I were to tell Mr. Soames what occurred, and you can check

me where I am wrong. Shall I do so? Well, well, don't trouble to answer. Listen, and see that I do you no

"From the moment, Mr. Soames, that you said to me that no one, not even Bannister, could have told that the

papers were in your room, the case began to take a definite shape in my mind. The printer one could, of

course, dismiss. He could examine the papers in his own office. The Indian I also thought nothing of. If the

proofs were in a roll he could not possibly know what they were. On the other hand, it seemed an unthinkable

coincidence that a man should dare to enter the room, and that by chance on that very day the papers were on

the table. I dismissed that. The man who entered knew that the papers were there. How did he know?

"When I approached your room I examined the window. You amused me by supposing that I was

contemplating the possibility of someone having in broad daylight, under the eyes of all these opposite

rooms, forced himself through it. Such an idea was absurd. I was measuring how tall a man would need to be

in order to see as he passed what papers were on the central table. I am six feet high, and I could do it with an

effort. No one less than that would have a chance. Already you see I had reason to think that if one of your

three students was a man of unusual height he was the most worth watching of the three.

"I entered and I took you into my confidence as to the suggestions of the side table. Of the centre table I

could make nothing, until in your description of Gilchrist you mentioned that he was a longdistance jumper.

Then the whole thing came to me in an instant, and I only needed certain corroborative proofs, which I

"What happened was this. This young fellow had employed his afternoon at the athletic grounds, where he

had been practising the jump. He returned carrying his jumping shoes, which are provided, as you are aware,

with several sharp spikes. As he passed your window he saw, by means of his great height, these proofs upon

your table, and conjectured what they were. No harm would have been done had it not been that as he passed

your door he perceived the key which had been left by the carelessness of your servant. A sudden impulse

came over him to enter and see if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerous exploit, for he could

"Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs, it was then that he yielded to temptation. He put his

Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. "He put his gloves on the chair, and he took the proofs, sheet by

sheet, to copy them. He thought the tutor must return by the main gate, and that he would see him. As we

know, he came back by the side gate. Suddenly he heard him at the very door. There was no possible escape.

He forgot his gloves, but he caught up his shoes and darted into the bedroom. You observe that the scratch on

that table is slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of the bedroom door. That in itself is enough to

show us that the shoe had been drawn in that direction and that the culprit had taken refuge there. The earth

round the spike had been left on the table, and a second sample was loosened and fell in the bedroom. I may

add that I walked out to the athletic grounds this morning, saw that tenacious black clay is used in the

jumpingpit, and carried away a specimen of it, together with some of the fine tan or sawdust which is strewn

over it to prevent the athlete from slipping. Have I told the truth, Mr. Gilchrist?"

"Yes, sir, I have, but the shock of this disgraceful exposure has bewildered me. I have a letter here, Mr.

Soames, which I wrote to you early this morning in the middle of a restless night. It was before I knew that

my sin had found me out. Here it is, sir. You will see that I have said, `I have determined not to go in for the

examination. I have been offered a commission in the Rhodesian Police, and I am going out to South Africa

"I am indeed pleased to hear that you did not intend to profit by your unfair advantage," said Soames. "But

"Come now, Bannister," said Holmes. "It will be clear to you from what I have said that only you could have

let this young man out, since you were left in the room, and must have locked the door when you went out.

As to his escaping by that window, it was incredible. Can you not clear up the last point in this mystery, and

"It was simple enough, sir, if you only had known; but with all your cleverness it was impossible that you

could know. Time was, sir, when I was butler to old Sir Jabez Gilchrist, this young gentleman's father. When

he was ruined I came to the college as servant, but I never forgot my old employer because he was down in

the world. I watched his son all I could for the sake of the old days. Well, sir, when I came into this room

yesterday when the alarm was given, the very first thing I saw was Mr. Gilchrist's tan gloves alying in that

chair. I knew those gloves well, and I understood their message. If Mr. Soames saw them the game was up. I

flopped down into that chair, and nothing would budge me until Mr. Soames he went for you. Then out came

my poor young master, whom I had dandled on my knee, and confessed it all to me. Wasn't it natural, sir, that

I should save him, and wasn't it natural also that I should try to speak to him as his dead father would have

done, and make him understand that he could not profit by such a deed? Could you blame me, sir?"

"No, indeed," said Holmes, heartily, springing to his feet. "Well, Soames, I think we have cleared your little

problem up, and our breakfast awaits us at home. Come, Watson! As to you, sir, I trust that a bright future

awaits you in Rhodesia. For once you have fallen low. Let us see in the future how high you can rise."

WHEN I look at the three massive manuscript volumes which contain our work for the year 1894 I confess

that it is very difficult for me, out of such a wealth of material, to select the cases which are most interesting

in themselves and at the same time most conducive to a display of those peculiar powers for which my friend

was famous. As I turn over the pages I see my notes upon the repulsive story of the red leech and the terrible

death of Crosby the banker. Here also I find an account of the Addleton tragedy and the singular contents of

the ancient British barrow. The famous SmithMortimer succession case comes also within this period, and

so does the tracking and arrest of Huret, the Boulevard assassin an exploit which won for Holmes an

autograph letter of thanks from the French President and the Order of the Legion of Honour. Each of these

would furnish a narrative, but on the whole I am of opinion that none of them unite so many singular points

of interest as the episode of Yoxley Old Place, which includes not only the lamentable death of young

Willoughby Smith, but also those subsequent developments which threw so curious a light upon the causes of

It was a wild, tempestuous night towards the close of November. Holmes and I sat together in silence all the

evening, he engaged with a powerful lens deciphering the remains of the original inscription upon a

palimpsest, I deep in a recent treatise upon surgery. Outside the wind howled down Baker Street, while the

rain beat fiercely against the windows. It was strange there in the very depths of the town, with ten miles of

man's handiwork on every side of us, to feel the iron grip of Nature, and to be conscious that to the huge

elemental forces all London was no more than the molehills that dot the fields. I walked to the window and

looked out on the deserted street. The occasional lamps gleamed on the expanse of muddy road and shining

"Well, Watson, it's as well we have not to turn out tonight," said Holmes, laying aside his lens and rolling

up the palimpsest. "I've done enough for one sitting. It is trying work for the eyes. So far as I can make out it

is nothing more exciting than an Abbey's accounts dating from the second half of the fifteenth century.

Amid the droning of the wind there had come the stamping of a horse's hoofs and the long grind of a wheel as

"Want! He wants us. And we, my poor Watson, want overcoats and cravats and goloshes, and every aid that

man ever invented to fight the weather. Wait a bit, though! There's the cab off again! There's hope yet. He'd

have kept it if he had wanted us to come. Run down, my dear fellow, and open the door, for all virtuous folk

When the light of the hall lamp fell upon our midnight visitor I had no difficulty in recognising him. It was

young Stanley Hopkins, a promising detective, in whose career Holmes had several times shown a very

"Come up, my dear sir," said Holmes's voice from above. "I hope you have no designs upon us on such a

The detective mounted the stairs, and our lamp gleamed upon his shining waterproof. I helped him out of it

"Now, my dear Hopkins, draw up and warm your toes," said he. "Here's a cigar, and the doctor has a

prescription containing hot water and a lemon which is good medicine on a night like this. It must be

"It is indeed, Mr. Holmes. I've had a bustling afternoon, I promise you. Did you see anything of the Yoxley

"Well, it was only a paragraph, and all wrong at that, so you have not missed anything. I haven't let the grass

grow under my feet. It's down in Kent, seven miles from Chatham and three from the railway line. I was

wired for at threefifteen, reached Yoxley Old Place at five, conducted my investigation, was back at

"It means that I can make neither head nor tail of it. So far as I can see it is just as tangled a business as ever I

handled, and yet at first it seemed so simple that one couldn't go wrong. There's no motive, Mr. Holmes.

That's what bothers me I can't put my hand on a motive. Here's a man dead there's no denying that

"I've got my facts pretty clear," said Stanley Hopkins. "All I want now is to know what they all mean. The

story, so far as I can make it out, is like this. Some years ago this country house, Yoxley Old Place, was taken

by an elderly man, who gave the name of Professor Coram. He was an invalid, keeping his bed half the time,

and the other half hobbling round the house with a stick or being pushed about the grounds by the gardener in

a bathchair. He was well liked by the few neighbours who called upon him, and he has the reputation down

there of being a very learned man. His household used to consist of an elderly housekeeper, Mrs. Marker, and

of a maid, Susan Tarlton. These have both been with him since his arrival, and they seem to be women of

excellent character. The Professor is writing a learned book, and he found it necessary about a year ago to

engage a secretary. The first two that he tried were not successes; but the third, Mr. Willoughby Smith, a very

young man straight from the University, seems to have been just what his employer wanted. His work

consisted in writing all the morning to the Professor's dictation, and he usually spent the evening in hunting

up references and passages which bore upon the next day's work. This Willoughby Smith has nothing against

him either as a boy at Uppingham or as a young man at Cambridge. I have seen his testimonials, and from the

first he was a decent, quiet, hardworking fellow, with no weak spot in him at all. And yet this is the lad who

has met his death this morning in the Professor's study under circumstances which can point only to murder."

The wind howled and screamed at the windows. Holmes and I drew closer to the fire while the young

"If you were to search all England," said he, "I don't suppose you could find a household more selfcontained

or free from outside influences. Whole weeks would pass and not one of them go past the garden gate. The

Professor was buried in his work and existed for nothing else. Young Smith knew nobody in the

neighbourhood, and lived very much as his employer did. The two women had nothing to take them from the

house. Mortimer the gardener, who wheels the bathchair, is an Army pensioner an old Crimean man of

excellent character. He does not live in the house, but in a threeroomed cottage at the other end of the

garden. Those are the only people that you would find within the grounds of Yoxley Old Place. At the same

time, the gate of the garden is a hundred yards from the main London to Chatham road. It opens with a latch,

"Now I will give you the evidence of Susan Tarlton, who is the only person who can say anything positive

about the matter. It was in the forenoon, between eleven and twelve. She was engaged at the moment in

hanging some curtains in the upstairs front bedroom. Professor Coram was still in bed, for when the weather

is bad he seldom rises before midday. The housekeeper was busied with some work in the back of the house.

Willoughby Smith had been in his bedroom, which he uses as a sittingroom; but the maid heard him at that

moment pass along the passage and descend to the study immediately below her. She did not see him, but she

says that she could not be mistaken in his quick, firm tread. She did not hear the study door close, but a

minute or so later there was a dreadful cry in the room below. It was a wild, hoarse scream, so strange and

unnatural that it might have come either from a man or a woman. At the same instant there was a heavy thud,

which shook the old house, and then all was silence. The maid stood petrified for a moment, and then,

recovering her courage, she ran downstairs. The study door was shut, and she opened it. Inside young Mr.

Willoughby Smith was stretched upon the floor. At first she could see no injury, but as she tried to raise him

she saw that blood was pouring from the underside of his neck. It was pierced by a very small but very deep

wound, which had divided the carotid artery. The instrument with which the injury had been inflicted lay

upon the carpet beside him. It was one of those small sealingwax knives to be found on oldfashioned

writingtables, with an ivory handle and a stiff blade. It was part of the fittings of the Professor's own desk.

"At first the maid thought that young Smith was already dead, but on pouring some water from the carafe

over his forehead he opened his eyes for an instant. `The Professor,' he murmured `it was she.' The maid is

prepared to swear that those were the exact words. He tried desperately to say something else, and he held his

"In the meantime the housekeeper had also arrived upon the scene, but she was just too late to catch the

young man's dying words. Leaving Susan with the body, she hurried to the Professor's room. He was sitting

up in bed horribly agitated, for he had heard enough to convince him that something terrible had occurred.

Mrs. Marker is prepared to swear that the Professor was still in his nightclothes, and, indeed, it was

impossible for him to dress without the help of Mortimer, whose orders were to come at twelve o'clock. The

Professor declares that he heard the distant cry, but that he knows nothing more. He can give no explanation

of the young man's last words, `The Professor it was she,' but imagines that they were the outcome of

delirium. He believes that Willoughby Smith had not an enemy in the world, and can give no reason for the

crime. His first action was to send Mortimer the gardener for the local police. A little later the chief constable

sent for me. Nothing was moved before I got there, and strict orders were given that no one should walk upon

the paths leading to the house. It was a splendid chance of putting your theories into practice, Mr. Sherlock

"Except Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said my companion, with a somewhat bitter smile. "Well, let us hear about it.

"I must ask you first, Mr. Holmes, to glance at this rough plan, which will give you a general idea of the

position of the Professor's study and the various points of the case. It will help you in following my

He unfolded the rough chart, which I here reproduce, and he laid it across Holmes's knee. I rose, and,

"It is very rough, of course, and it only deals with the points which seem to me to be essential. All the rest

you will see later for yourself. Now, first of all, presuming that the assassin entered the house, how did he or

she come in? Undoubtedly by the garden path and the back door, from which there is direct access to the

study. Any other way would have been exceedingly complicated. The escape must have also been made

along that line, for of the two other exits from the room one was blocked by Susan as she ran downstairs and

the other leads straight to the Professor's bedroom. I therefore directed my attention at once to the garden

path, which was saturated with recent rain and would certainly show any footmarks.

"My examination showed me that I was dealing with a cautious and expert criminal. No footmarks were to be

found on the path. There could be no question, however, that someone had passed along the grass border

which lines the path, and that he had done so in order to avoid leaving a track. I could not find anything in the

nature of a distinct impression, but the grass was trodden down and someone had undoubtedly passed. It

could only have been the murderer, since neither the gardener nor anyone else had been there that morning

"At the point where the path passes through the gate you could surely pick up the tracks?"

"It has been pouring rain and blowing a hurricane ever since," said he. "It will be harder to read now than that

palimpsest. Well, well, it can't be helped. What did you do, Hopkins, after you had made certain that you had

"I think I made certain of a good deal, Mr. Holmes. I knew that someone had entered the house cautiously

from without. I next examined the corridor. It is lined with cocoanut matting and had taken no impression of

any kind. This brought me into the study itself. It is a scantilyfurnished room. The main article is a large

writingtable with a fixed bureau. This bureau consists of a double column of drawers with a central small

cupboard between them. The drawers were open, the cupboard locked. The drawers, it seems, were always

open, and nothing of value was kept in them. There were some papers of importance in the cupboard, but

there were no signs that this had been tampered with, and the Professor assures me that nothing was missing.

"I come now to the body of the young man. It was found near the bureau, and just to the left of it, as marked

upon that chart. The stab was on the right side of the neck and from behind forwards, so that it is almost

"Exactly. The idea crossed my mind. But we found the knife some feet away from the body, so that seems

impossible. Then, of course, there are the man's own dying words. And, finally, there was this very important

From his pocket Stanley Hopkins drew a small paper packet. He unfolded it and disclosed a golden

pincenez, with two broken ends of black silk cord dangling from the end of it. "Willoughby Smith had

excellent sight," he added. "There can be no question that this was snatched from the face or the person of the

Sherlock Holmes took the glasses into his hand and examined them with the utmost attention and interest. He

held them on his nose, endeavoured to read through them, went to the window and stared up the street with

them, looked at them most minutely in the full light of the lamp, and finally, with a chuckle, seated himself at

the table and wrote a few lines upon a sheet of paper, which he tossed across to Stanley Hopkins.

"Wanted, a woman of good address, attired like a lady. She has a remarkably thick nose, with eyes which are

set close upon either side of it. She has a puckered forehead, a peering expression, and probably rounded

shoulders. There are indications that she has had recourse to an optician at least twice during the last few

months. As her glasses are of remarkable strength and as opticians are not very numerous, there should be no

Holmes smiled at the astonishment of Hopkins, which must have been reflected upon my features.

"Surely my deductions are simplicity itself," said he. "It would be difficult to name any articles which afford

a finer field for inference than a pair of glasses, especially so remarkable a pair as these. That they belong to a

woman I infer from their delicacy, and also, of course, from the last words of the dying man. As to her being

a person of refinement and well dressed, they are, as you perceive, handsomely mounted in solid gold, and it

is inconceivable that anyone who wore such glasses could be slatternly in other respects. You will find that

the clips are too wide for your nose, showing that the lady's nose was very broad at the base. This sort of nose

is usually a short and coarse one, but there are a sufficient number of exceptions to prevent me from being

dogmatic or from insisting upon this point in my description. My own face is a narrow one, and yet I find that

I cannot get my eyes into the centre, or near the centre, of these glasses. Therefore the lady's eyes are set very

near to the sides of the nose. You will perceive, Watson, that the glasses are concave and of unusual strength.

A lady whose vision has been so extremely contracted all her life is sure to have the physical characteristics

of such vision, which are seen in the forehead, the eyelids, and the shoulders."

"Yes," I said, "I can follow each of your arguments. I confess, however, that I am unable to understand how

"You will perceive," he said, "that the clips are lined with tiny bands of cork to soften the pressure upon the

nose. One of these is discoloured and worn to some slight extent, but the other is new. Evidently one has

fallen off and been replaced. I should judge that the older of them has not been there more than a few months.

They exactly correspond, so I gather that the lady went back to the same establishment for the second."

"By George, it's marvellous!" cried Hopkins, in an ecstasy of admiration. "To think that I had all that

evidence in my hand and never knew it! I had intended, however, to go the round of the London opticians."

"Of course you would. Meanwhile, have you anything more to tell us about the case?"

"Nothing, Mr. Holmes. I think that you know as much as I do now probably more. We have had inquiries

made as to any stranger seen on the country roads or at the railway station. We have heard of none. What

beats me is the utter want of all object in the crime. Not a ghost of a motive can anyone suggest."

"Ah! there I am not in a position to help you. But I suppose you want us to come out tomorrow?"

"If it is not asking too much, Mr. Holmes. There's a train from Charing Cross to Chatham at six in the

"Then we shall take it. Your case has certainly some features of great interest, and I shall be delighted to look

into it. Well, it's nearly one, and we had best get a few hours' sleep. I dare say you can manage all right on the

sofa in front of the fire. I'll light my spiritlamp and give you a cup of coffee before we start."

The gale had blown itself out next day, but it was a bitter morning when we started upon our journey. We saw

the cold winter sun rise over the dreary marshes of the Thames and the long, sullen reaches of the river,

which I shall ever associate with our pursuit of the Andaman Islander in the earlier days of our career. After a

long and weary journey we alighted at a small station some miles from Chatham. While a horse was being

put into a trap at the local inn we snatched a hurried breakfast, and so we were all ready for business when we

"No, sir. Down at the station they are certain that no stranger either came or went yesterday."

"Well, it's only a reasonable walk to Chatham. Anyone might stay there, or take a train without being

observed. This is the garden path of which I spoke, Mr. Holmes. I'll pledge my word there was no mark on it

"This side, sir. This narrow margin of grass between the path and the flowerbed. I can't see the traces now,

"Yes, yes; someone has passed along," said Holmes, stooping over the grass border. "Our lady must have

picked her steps carefully, must she not, since on the one side she would leave a track on the path, and on the

"Hum! It was a very remarkable performance very remarkable. Well, I think we have exhausted the path.

Let us go farther. This garden door is usually kept open, I suppose? Then this visitor had nothing to do but to

walk in. The idea of murder was not in her mind, or she would have provided herself with some sort of

weapon, instead of having to pick this knife off the writingtable. She advanced along this corridor, leaving

no traces upon the cocoanut matting. Then she found herself in this study. How long was she there? We have

"Not more than a few minutes, sir. I forgot to tell you that Mrs. Marker, the housekeeper, had been in there

"Well, that gives us a limit. Our lady enters this room and what does she do? She goes over to the

writingtable. What for? Not for anything in the drawers. If there had been anything worth her taking it

would surely have been locked up. No; it was for something in that wooden bureau. Halloa! what is that

scratch upon the face of it? Just hold a match, Watson. Why did you not tell me of this, Hopkins?"

The mark which he was examining began upon the brass work on the righthand side of the keyhole, and

extended for about four inches, where it had scratched the varnish from the surface.

"This is recent, quite recent. See how the brass shines where it is cut. An old scratch would be the same

colour as the surface. Look at it through my lens. There's the varnish, too, like earth on each side of a furrow.

"I am sure you did not, for a duster would have swept away these shreds of varnish. Who has the key of this

"Very good. Mrs. Marker, you can go. Now we are making a little progress. Our lady enters the room,

advances to the bureau, and either opens it or tries to do so. While she is thus engaged young Willoughby

Smith enters the room. In her hurry to withdraw the key she makes this scratch upon the door. He seizes her,

and she, snatching up the nearest object, which happens to be this knife, strikes at him in order to make him

let go his hold. The blow is a fatal one. He falls and she escapes, either with or without the object for which

she has come. Is Susan the maid there? Could anyone have got away through that door after the time that you

"No sir; it is impossible. Before I got down the stair I'd have seen anyone in the passage. Besides, the door

"That settles this exit. Then no doubt the lady went out the way she came. I understand that this other passage

"We shall go down it and make the acquaintance of the Professor. Halloa, Hopkins! this is very important,

very important indeed. The Professor's corridor is also lined with cocoanut matting."

"Don't you see any bearing upon the case? Well, well, I don't insist upon it. No doubt I am wrong. And yet it

We passed down the passage, which was of the same length as that which led to the garden. At the end was a

short flight of steps ending in a door. Our guide knocked, and then ushered us into the Professor's bedroom.

It was a very large chamber, lined with innumerable volumes, which had overflowed from the shelves and lay

in piles in the corners, or were stacked all round at the base of the cases. The bed was in the centre of the

room, and in it, propped up with pillows, was the owner of the house. I have seldom seen a more

remarkablelooking person. It was a gaunt, aquiline face which was turned towards us, with piercing dark

eyes, which lurked in deep hollows under overhung and tufted brows. His hair and beard were white, save

that the latter was curiously stained with yellow around his mouth. A cigarette glowed amid the tangle of

white hair, and the air of the room was fetid with stale tobaccosmoke. As he held out his hand to Holmes I

"A smoker, Mr. Holmes?" said he, speaking wellchosen English with a curious little mincing accent. "Pray

take a cigarette. And you, sir? I can recommend them, for I have them especially prepared by Ionides of

Alexandria. He sends me a thousand at a time, and I grieve to say that I have to arrange for a fresh supply

every fortnight. Bad, sir, very bad, but an old man has few pleasures. Tobacco and my work that is all that

Holmes had lit a cigarette, and was shooting little darting glances all over the room.

"Tobacco and my work, but now only tobacco," the old man exclaimed. "Alas! what a fatal interruption! Who

could have foreseen such a terrible catastrophe? So estimable a young man! I assure you that after a few

months' training he was an admirable assistant. What do you think of the matter, Mr. Holmes?"

"I shall indeed be indebted to you if you can throw a light where all is so dark to us. To a poor bookworm and

invalid like myself such a blow is paralyzing. I seem to have lost the faculty of thought. But you are a man of

action you are a man of affairs. It is part of the everyday routine of your life. You can preserve your

Holmes was pacing up and down one side of the room whilst the old Professor was talking. I observed that he

was smoking with extraordinary rapidity. It was evident that he shared our host's liking for the fresh

"Yes, sir, it is a crushing blow," said the old man. "That is my MAGNUM OPUS the pile of papers on the

side table yonder. It is my analysis of the documents found in the Coptic monasteries of Syria and Egypt, a

work which will cut deep at the very foundations of revealed religion. With my enfeebled health I do not

know whether I shall ever be able to complete it now that my assistant has been taken from me. Dear me, Mr.

"I am a connoisseur," said he, taking another cigarette from the box his fourth and lighting it from the

stub of that which he had finished. "I will not trouble you with any lengthy crossexamination, Professor

Coram, since I gather that you were in bed at the time of the crime and could know nothing about it. I would

only ask this. What do you imagine that this poor fellow meant by his last words: `The Professor it was

"Susan is a country girl," said he, "and you know the incredible stupidity of that class. I fancy that the poor

fellow murmured some incoherent delirious words, and that she twisted them into this meaningless message."

"Possibly an accident; possibly I only breathe it among ourselves a suicide. Young men have their

hidden troubles some affair of the heart, perhaps, which we have never known. It is a more probable

"Ah! I am only a student a man of dreams. I cannot explain the practical things of life. But still, we are

aware, my friend, that lovegages may take strange shapes. By all means take another cigarette. It is a

pleasure to see anyone appreciate them so. A fan, a glove, glasses who knows what article may be carried

as a token or treasured when a man puts an end to his life? This gentleman speaks of footsteps in the grass;

but, after all, it is easy to be mistaken on such a point. As to the knife, it might well be thrown far from the

unfortunate man as he fell. It is possible that I speak as a child, but to me it seems that Willoughby Smith has

Holmes seemed struck by the theory thus put forward, and he continued to walk up and down for some time,

"Tell me, Professor Coram," he said, at last, "what is in that cupboard in the bureau?"

"Nothing that would help a thief. Family papers, letters from my poor wife, diplomas of Universities which

Holmes picked up the key and looked at it for an instant; then he handed it back.

"No; I hardly think that it would help me," said he. "I should prefer to go quietly down to your garden and

turn the whole matter over in my head. There is something to be said for the theory of suicide which you have

put forward. We must apologize for having intruded upon you, Professor Coram, and I promise that we won't

disturb you until after lunch. At two o'clock we will come again and report to you anything which may have

Holmes was curiously distrait, and we walked up and down the garden path for some time in silence.

"It depends upon those cigarettes that I smoked," said he. "It is possible that I am utterly mistaken. The

"Well, well, you may see for yourself. If not, there's no harm done. Of course, we always have the optician

clue to fall back upon, but I take a short cut when I can get it. Ah, here is the good Mrs. Marker! Let us enjoy

I may have remarked before that Holmes had, when he liked, a peculiarly ingratiating way with women, and

that he very readily established terms of confidence with them. In half the time which he had named he had

captured the housekeeper's goodwill, and was chatting with her as if he had known her for years.

"Yes, Mr. Holmes, it is as you say, sir. He does smoke something terrible. All day and sometimes all night,

sir. I've seen that room of a morning well, sir, you'd have thought it was a London fog. Poor young Mr.

Smith, he was a smoker also, but not as bad as the Professor. His health well, I don't know that it's better

"I'll wager he took no breakfast this morning, and won't face his lunch after all the cigarettes I saw him

"Well, you're out there, sir, as it happens, for he ate a remarkable big breakfast this morning. I don't know

when I've known him make a better one, and he's ordered a good dish of cutlets for his lunch. I'm surprised

myself, for since I came into that room yesterday and saw young Mr. Smith lying there on the floor I couldn't

bear to look at food. Well, it takes all sorts to make a world, and the Professor hasn't let it take his appetite

We loitered the morning away in the garden. Stanley Hopkins had gone down to the village to look into some

rumours of a strange woman who had been seen by some children on the Chatham Road the previous

morning. As to my friend, all his usual energy seemed to have deserted him. I had never known him handle a

case in such a halfhearted fashion. Even the news brought back by Hopkins that he had found the children

and that they had undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding with Holmes's description, and wearing

either spectacles or eyeglasses, failed to rouse any sign of keen interest. He was more attentive when Susan,

who waited upon us at lunch, volunteered the information that she believed Mr. Smith had been out for a

walk yesterday morning, and that he had only returned half an hour before the tragedy occurred. I could not

myself see the bearing of this incident, but I clearly perceived that Holmes was weaving it into the general

scheme which he had formed in his brain. Suddenly he sprang from his chair and glanced at his watch. "Two

o'clock, gentlemen," said he. "We must go up and have it out with our friend the Professor."

The old man had just finished his lunch, and certainly his empty dish bore evidence to the good appetite with

which his housekeeper had credited him. He was, indeed, a weird figure as he turned his white mane and his

glowing eyes towards us. The eternal cigarette smouldered in his mouth. He had been dressed and was seated

"Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved this mystery yet?" He shoved the large tin of cigarettes which stood on a

table beside him towards my companion. Holmes stretched out his hand at the same moment, and between

them they tipped the box over the edge. For a minute or two we were all on our knees retrieving stray

cigarettes from impossible places. When we rose again I observed that Holmes's eyes were shining and his

cheeks tinged with colour. Only at a crisis have I seen those battlesignals flying.

Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like a sneer quivered over the gaunt features of the

"You are surely joking, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You compel me to tell you that this is too serious a matter to

"I have forged and tested every link of my chain, Professor Coram, and I am sure that it is sound. What your

motives are or what exact part you play in this strange business I am not yet able to say. In a few minutes I

shall probably hear it from your own lips. Meanwhile I will reconstruct what is past for your benefit, so that

"A lady yesterday entered your study. She came with the intention of possessing herself of certain documents

which were in your bureau. She had a key of her own. I have had an opportunity of examining yours, and I do

not find that slight discolouration which the scratch made upon the varnish would have produced. You were

not an accessory, therefore, and she came, so far as I can read the evidence, without your knowledge to rob

The Professor blew a cloud from his lips. "This is most interesting and instructive," said he. "Have you no

more to add? Surely, having traced this lady so far, you can also say what has become of her."

"I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she was seized by your secretary, and stabbed him in order to

escape. This catastrophe I am inclined to regard as an unhappy accident, for I am convinced that the lady had

no intention of inflicting so grievous an injury. An assassin does not come unarmed. Horrified by what she

had done she rushed wildly away from the scene of the tragedy. Unfortunately for her she had lost her glasses

in the scuffle, and as she was extremely shortsighted she was really helpless without them. She ran down a

corridor, which she imagined to be that by which she had come both were lined with cocoanut matting

and it was only when it was too late that she understood that she had taken the wrong passage and that her

retreat was cut off behind her. What was she to do? She could not go back. She could not remain where she

was. She must go on. She went on. She mounted a stair, pushed open a door, and found herself in your

The old man sat with his mouth open staring wildly at Holmes. Amazement and fear were stamped upon his

expressive features. Now, with an effort, he shrugged his shoulders and burst into insincere laughter.

"All very fine, Mr. Holmes," said he. "But there is one little flaw in your splendid theory. I was myself in my

"And you mean to say that I could lie upon that bed and not be aware that a woman had entered my room?"

"I never said so. You WERE aware of it. You spoke with her. You recognised her. You aided her to escape."

Again the Professor burst into highkeyed laughter. He had risen to his feet and his eyes glowed like embers.

"You are mad!" he cried. "You are talking insanely. I helped her to escape? Where is she now?"

"She is there," said Holmes, and he pointed to a high bookcase in the corner of the room.

I saw the old man throw up his arms, a terrible convulsion passed over his grim face, and he fell back in his

chair. At the same instant the bookcase at which Holmes pointed swung round upon a hinge, and a woman

rushed out into the room. "You are right!" she cried, in a strange foreign voice. "You are right! I am here."

She was brown with the dust and draped with the cobwebs which had come from the walls of her

hidingplace. Her face, too, was streaked with grime, and at the best she could never have been handsome,

for she had the exact physical characteristics which Holmes had divined, with, in addition, a long and

obstinate chin. What with her natural blindness, and what with the change from dark to light, she stood as one

dazed, blinking about her to see where and who we were. And yet, in spite of all these disadvantages, there

was a certain nobility in the woman's bearing, a gallantry in the defiant chin and in the upraised head, which

compelled something of respect and admiration. Stanley Hopkins had laid his hand upon her arm and claimed

her as his prisoner, but she waved him aside gently, and yet with an overmastering dignity which compelled

obedience. The old man lay back in his chair, with a twitching face, and stared at her with brooding eyes.

"Yes, sir, I am your prisoner," she said. "From where I stood I could hear everything, and I know that you

have learned the truth. I confess it all. It was I who killed the young man. But you are right, you who say it

was an accident. I did not even know that it was a knife which I held in my hand, for in my despair I snatched

anything from the table and struck at him to make him let me go. It is the truth that I tell."

"Madam," said Holmes, "I am sure that it is the truth. I fear that you are far from well."

She had turned a dreadful colour, the more ghastly under the dark duststreaks upon her face. She seated

"I have only a little time here," she said, "but I would have you to know the whole truth. I am this man's wife.

For the first time the old man stirred. "God bless you, Anna!" he cried. "God bless you!"

She cast a look of the deepest disdain in his direction. "Why should you cling so hard to that wretched life of

yours, Sergius?" said she. "It has done harm to many and good to none not even to yourself. However, it is

not for me to cause the frail thread to be snapped before God's time. I have enough already upon my soul

since I crossed the threshold of this cursed house. But I must speak or I shall be too late.

"I have said, gentlemen, that I am this man's wife. He was fifty and I a foolish girl of twenty when we

"We were reformers revolutionists Nihilists, you understand. He and I and many more. Then there

came a time of trouble, a police officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was wanted, and in order to

save his own life and to earn a great reward my husband betrayed his own wife and his companions. Yes, we

were all arrested upon his confession. Some of us found our way to the gallows and some to Siberia. I was

among these last, but my term was not for life. My husband came to England with his illgotten gains, and

has lived in quiet ever since, knowing well that if the Brotherhood knew where he was not a week would pass

The old man reached out a trembling hand and helped himself to a cigarette. "I am in your hands, Anna," said

"I have not yet told you the height of his villainy," said she. "Among our comrades of the Order there was

one who was the friend of my heart. He was noble, unselfish, loving all that my husband was not. He

hated violence. We were all guilty if that is guilt but he was not. He wrote for ever dissuading us from

such a course. These letters would have saved him. So would my diary, in which from day to day I had

entered both my feelings towards him and the view which each of us had taken. My husband found and kept

both diary and letters. He hid them, and he tried hard to swear away the young man's life. In this he failed, but

Alexis was sent a convict to Siberia, where now, at this moment, he works in a salt mine. Think of that, you

villain, you villain; now, now, at this very moment, Alexis, a man whose name you are not worthy to speak,

works and lives like a slave, and yet I have your life in my hands and I let you go."

"You were always a noble woman, Anna," said the old man, puffing at his cigarette.

"I must finish," she said. "When my term was over I set myself to get the diary and letters which, if sent to

the Russian Government, would procure my friend's release. I knew that my husband had come to England.

After months of searching I discovered where he was. I knew that he still had the diary, for when I was in

Siberia I had a letter from him once reproaching me and quoting some passages from its pages. Yet I was sure

that with his revengeful nature he would never give it to me of his own free will. I must get it for myself.

With this object I engaged an agent from a private detective firm, who entered my husband's house as

secretary it was your second secretary, Sergius, the one who left you so hurriedly. He found that papers

were kept in the cupboard, and he got an impression of the key. He would not go farther. He furnished me

with a plan of the house, and he told me that in the forenoon the study was always empty, as the secretary

was employed up here. So at last I took my courage in both hands and I came down to get the papers for

"I had just taken the papers and was locking the cupboard when the young man seized me. I had seen him

already that morning. He had met me in the road and I had asked him to tell me where Professor Coram lived,

"Exactly! exactly!" said Holmes. "The secretary came back and told his employer of the woman he had met.

Then in his last breath he tried to send a message that it was she the she whom he had just discussed with

"You must let me speak," said the woman, in an imperative voice, and her face contracted as if in pain.

"When he had fallen I rushed from the room, chose the wrong door, and found myself in my husband's room.

He spoke of giving me up. I showed him that if he did so his life was in my hands. If he gave me to the law I

could give him to the Brotherhood. It was not that I wished to live for my own sake, but it was that I desired

to accomplish my purpose. He knew that I would do what I said that his own fate was involved in mine.

For that reason and for no other he shielded me. He thrust me into that dark hidingplace, a relic of old days,

known only to himself. He took his meals in his own room, and so was able to give me part of his food. It

was agreed that when the police left the house I should slip away by night and come back no more. But in

some way you have read our plans." She tore from the bosom of her dress a small packet. "These are my last

words," said she; "here is the packet which will save Alexis. I confide it to your honour and to your love of

justice. Take it! You will deliver it at the Russian Embassy. Now I have done my duty, and "

"Stop her!" cried Holmes. He had bounded across the room and had wrenched a small phial from her hand.

"Too late!" she said, sinking back on the bed. "Too late! I took the poison before I left my hidingplace. My

"A simple case, and yet in some ways an instructive one," Holmes remarked, as we travelled back to town. "It

hinged from the outset upon the pincenez. But for the fortunate chance of the dying man having seized these

I am not sure that we could ever have reached our solution. It was clear to me from the strength of the glasses

that the wearer must have been very blind and helpless when deprived of them. When you asked me to

believe that she walked along a narrow strip of grass without once making a false step I remarked, as you

may remember, that it was a noteworthy performance. In my mind I set it down as an impossible

performance, save in the unlikely case that she had a second pair of glasses. I was forced, therefore, to

seriously consider the hypothesis that she had remained within the house. On perceiving the similarity of the

two corridors it became clear that she might very easily have made such a mistake, and in that case it was

evident that she must have entered the Professor's room. I was keenly on the alert, therefore, for whatever

would bear out this supposition, and I examined the room narrowly for anything in the shape of a

hidingplace. The carpet seemed continuous and firmly nailed, so I dismissed the idea of a trapdoor. There

might well be a recess behind the books. As you are aware, such devices are common in old libraries. I

observed that books were piled on the floor at all other points, but that one bookcase was left clear. This,

then, might be the door. I could see no marks to guide me, but the carpet was of a dun colour, which lends

itself very well to examination. I therefore smoked a great number of those excellent cigarettes, and I dropped

the ash all over the space in front of the suspected bookcase. It was a simple trick, but exceedingly effective. I

then went downstairs and I ascertained, in your presence, Watson, without your perceiving the drift of my

remarks, that Professor Coram's consumption of food had increased as one would expect when he is

supplying a second person. We then ascended to the room again, when, by upsetting the cigarettebox, I

obtained a very excellent view of the floor, and was able to see quite clearly, from the traces upon the

cigarette ash, that the prisoner had, in our absence, come out from her retreat. Well, Hopkins, here we are at

Charing Cross, and I congratulate you on having brought your case to a successful conclusion. You are going

WE were fairly accustomed to receive weird telegrams at Baker Street, but I have a particular recollection of

one which reached us on a gloomy February morning some seven or eight years ago and gave Mr. Sherlock

"Please await me. Terrible misfortune. Right wing threequarter missing; indispensable to morrow.

"Strand postmark and dispatched tenthirtysix," said Holmes, reading it over and over. "Mr. Overton was

evidently considerably excited when he sent it, and somewhat incoherent in consequence. Well, well, he will

be here, I dare say, by the time I have looked through the TIMES, and then we shall know all about it. Even

Things had indeed been very slow with us, and I had learned to dread such periods of inaction, for I knew by

experience that my companion's brain was so abnormally active that it was dangerous to leave it without

material upon which to work. For years I had gradually weaned him from that drug mania which had

threatened once to check his remarkable career. Now I knew that under ordinary conditions he no longer

craved for this artificial stimulus, but I was well aware that the fiend was not dead, but sleeping; and I have

known that the sleep was a light one and the waking near when in periods of idleness I have seen the drawn

look upon Holmes's ascetic face, and the brooding of his deepset and inscrutable eyes. Therefore I blessed

this Mr. Overton, whoever he might be, since he had come with his enigmatic message to break that

dangerous calm which brought more peril to my friend than all the storms of his tempestuous life.

As we had expected, the telegram was soon followed by its sender, and the card of Mr. Cyril Overton, of

Trinity College, Cambridge, announced the arrival of an enormous young man, sixteen stone of solid bone

and muscle, who spanned the doorway with his broad shoulders and looked from one of us to the other with a

"I've been down to Scotland Yard, Mr. Holmes. I saw Inspector Stanley Hopkins. He advised me to come to

you. He said the case, so far as he could see, was more in your line than in that of the regular police."

"It's awful, Mr. Holmes, simply awful! I wonder my hair isn't grey. Godfrey Staunton you've heard of

him, of course? He's simply the hinge that the whole team turns on. I'd rather spare two from the pack and

have Godfrey for my threequarter line. Whether it's passing, or tackling, or dribbling, there's no one to touch

him; and then, he's got the head and can hold us all together. What am I to do? That's what I ask you, Mr.

Holmes. There's Moorhouse, first reserve, but he is trained as a half, and he always edges right in on to the

scrum instead of keeping out on the touchline. He's a fine placekick, it's true, but, then, he has no

judgment, and he can't sprint for nuts. Why, Morton or Johnson, the Oxford fliers, could romp round him.

Stevenson is fast enough, but he couldn't drop from the twentyfive line, and a threequarter who can't either

punt or drop isn't worth a place for pace alone. No, Mr. Holmes, we are done unless you can help me to find

My friend had listened with amused surprise to this long speech, which was poured forth with extraordinary

vigour and earnestness, every point being driven home by the slapping of a brawny hand upon the speaker's

knee. When our visitor was silent Holmes stretched out his hand and took down letter "S" of his

"There is Arthur H. Staunton, the rising young forger," said he, "and there was Henry Staunton, whom I

"Why, Mr. Holmes, I thought you knew things," said he. "I suppose, then, if you have never heard of Godfrey

"Great Scot!" cried the athlete. "Why, I was first reserve for England against Wales, and I've skippered the

'Varsity all this year. But that's nothing! I didn't think there was a soul in England who didn't know Godfrey

Staunton, the crack threequarter, Cambridge, Blackheath, and five Internationals. Good Lord! Mr. Holmes,

"You live in a different world to me, Mr. Overton, a sweeter and healthier one. My ramifications stretch out

into many sections of society, but never, I am happy to say, into amateur sport, which is the best and soundest

thing in England. However, your unexpected visit this morning shows me that even in that world of fresh air

and fair play there may be work for me to do; so now, my good sir, I beg you to sit down and to tell me

slowly and quietly exactly what it is that has occurred, and how you desire that I should help you."

Young Overton's face assumed the bothered look of the man who is more accustomed to using his muscles

than his wits; but by degrees, with many repetitions and obscurities which I may omit from his narrative, he

"It's this way, Mr. Holmes. As I have said, I am the skipper of the Rugger team of Cambridge 'Varsity, and

Godfrey Staunton is my best man. Tomorrow we play Oxford. Yesterday we all came up and we settled at

Bentley's private hotel. At ten o'clock I went round and saw that all the fellows had gone to roost, for I

believe in strict training and plenty of sleep to keep a team fit. I had a word or two with Godfrey before he

turned in. He seemed to me to be pale and bothered. I asked him what was the matter. He said he was all right

just a touch of headache. I bade him goodnight and left him. Half an hour later the porter tells me that a

roughlooking man with a beard called with a note for Godfrey. He had not gone to bed and the note was

taken to his room. Godfrey read it and fell back in a chair as if he had been poleaxed. The porter was so

scared that he was going to fetch me, but Godfrey stopped him, had a drink of water, and pulled himself

together. Then he went downstairs, said a few words to the man who was waiting in the hall, and the two of

them went off together. The last that the porter saw of them, they were almost running down the street in the

direction of the Strand. This morning Godfrey's room was empty, his bed had never been slept in, and his

things were all just as I had seen them the night before. He had gone off at a moment's notice with this

stranger, and no word has come from him since. I don't believe he will ever come back. He was a sportsman,

was Godfrey, down to his marrow, and he wouldn't have stopped his training and let in his skipper if it were

not for some cause that was too strong for him. No; I feel as if he were gone for good and we should never

"I wired to Cambridge to learn if anything had been heard of him there. I have had an answer. No one has

"Godfrey is an orphan, and Lord MountJames is his nearest relative his uncle, I believe."

"Indeed. This throws new light upon the matter. Lord MountJames is one of the richest men in England."

"Yes, he was his heir, and the old boy is nearly eighty cram full of gout, too. They say he could chalk his

billiardcue with his knuckles. He never allowed Godfrey a shilling in his life, for he is an absolute miser, but

"Well, something was worrying him the night before, and if it was to do with money it is possible that he

would make for his nearest relative who had so much of it, though from all I have heard he would not have

much chance of getting it. Godfrey was not fond of the old man. He would not go if he could help it."

"Well, we can soon determine that. If your friend was going to his relative, Lord MountJames, you have

then to explain the visit of this roughlooking fellow at so late an hour, and the agitation that was caused by

Cyril Overton pressed his hands to his head. "I can make nothing of it," said he.

"Well, well, I have a clear day, and I shall be happy to look into the matter," said Holmes. "I should strongly

recommend you to make your preparations for your match without reference to this young gentleman. It

must, as you say, have been an overpowering necessity which tore him away in such a fashion, and the same

necessity is likely to hold him away. Let us step round together to this hotel, and see if the porter can throw

Sherlock Holmes was a pastmaster in the art of putting a humble witness at his ease, and very soon, in the

privacy of Godfrey Staunton's abandoned room, he had extracted all that the porter had to tell. The visitor of

the night before was not a gentleman, neither was he a working man. He was simply what the porter

described as a "mediumlooking chap"; a man of fifty, beard grizzled, pale face, quietly dressed. He seemed

himself to be agitated. The porter had observed his hand trembling when he had held out the note. Godfrey

Staunton had crammed the note into his pocket. Staunton had not shaken hands with the man in the hall. They

had exchanged a few sentences, of which the porter had only distinguished the one word "time." Then they

had hurried off in the manner described. It was just halfpast ten by the hall clock.

"Let me see," said Holmes, seating himself on Staunton's bed. "You are the day porter, are you not?"

"Yes, sir. I was standing by the door, and he with his back turned at that table. When he had written it he said,

Holmes rose. Taking the forms he carried them over to the window and carefully examined that which was

"It is a pity he did not write in pencil," said he, throwing them down again with a shrug of disappointment.

"As you have no doubt frequently observed, Watson, the impression usually goes through a fact which has

dissolved many a happy marriage. However, I can find no trace here. I rejoice, however, to perceive that he

wrote with a broadpointed quill pen, and I can hardly doubt that we will find some impression upon this

He tore off a strip of the blottingpaper and turned towards us the following hieroglyphic:

"That is unnecessary," said Holmes. "The paper is thin, and the reverse will give the message. Here it is." He

"So that is the tail end of the telegram which Godfrey Staunton dispatched within a few hours of his

disappearance. There are at least six words of the message which have escaped us; but what remains

`Stand by us for God's sake!' proves that this young man saw a formidable danger which approached him,

and from which someone else could protect him. `US,' mark you! Another person was involved. Who should

it be but the palefaced, bearded man, who seemed himself in so nervous a state? What, then, is the

connection between Godfrey Staunton and the bearded man? And what is the third source from which each of

them sought for help against pressing danger? Our inquiry has already narrowed down to that."

"Exactly, my dear Watson. Your reflection, though profound, had already crossed my mind. But I dare say it

may have come to your notice that if you walk into a postoffice and demand to see the counterfoil of

another man's message there may be some disinclination on the part of the officials to oblige you. There is so

much red tape in these matters! However, I have no doubt that with a little delicacy and finesse the end may

be attained. Meanwhile, I should like in your presence, Mr. Overton, to go through these papers which have

There were a number of letters, bills, and notebooks, which Holmes turned over and examined with quick,

nervous fingers and darting, penetrating eyes. "Nothing here," he said, at last. "By the way, I suppose your

"Not a day. He has been laid up with a hack, and once he slipped his kneecap, but that was nothing."

"Perhaps he was not so strong as you suppose. I should think he may have had some secret trouble. With your

assent I will put one or two of these papers in my pocket, in case they should bear upon our future inquiry."

"One moment! one moment!" cried a querulous voice, and we looked up to find a queer little old man, jerking

and twitching in the doorway. He was dressed in rusty black, with a very broad brimmed tophat and a loose

white necktie the whole effect being that of a very rustic parson or of an undertaker's mute. Yet, in spite of

his shabby and even absurd appearance, his voice had a sharp crackle, and his manner a quick intensity which

"Who are you, sir, and by what right do you touch this gentleman's papers?" he asked.

"Then it is you who sent me a telegram. My name is Lord MountJames. I came round as quickly as the

"I have no doubt, sir, that my friend Godfrey, when we find him, will be prepared to do that."

"Nothing of the sort, sir!" screamed the little man. "Don't look to me for a penny not a penny! You

understand that, Mr. Detective! I am all the family that this young man has got, and I tell you that I am not

responsible. If he has any expectations it is due to the fact that I have never wasted money, and I do not

propose to begin to do so now. As to those papers with which you are making so free, I may tell you that in

case there should be anything of any value among them you will be held strictly to account for what you do

"Very good, sir," said Sherlock Holmes. "May I ask in the meanwhile whether you have yourself any theory

"No, sir, I have not. He is big enough and old enough to look after himself, and if he is so foolish as to lose

"I quite understand your position," said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Perhaps you don't

quite understand mine. Godfrey Staunton appears to have been a poor man. If he has been kidnapped it could

not have been for anything which he himself possesses. The fame of your wealth has gone abroad, Lord

MountJames, and it is entirely possible that a gang of thieves have secured your nephew in order to gain

"Heavens, sir, what an idea! I never thought of such villainy! What inhuman rogues there are in the world!

But Godfrey is a fine lad a staunch lad. Nothing would induce him to give his old uncle away. I'll have the

plate moved over to the bank this evening. In the meantime spare no pains, Mr. Detective! I beg you to leave

no stone unturned to bring him safely back. As to money, well, so far as a fiver, or even a tenner, goes, you

Even in his chastened frame of mind the noble miser could give us no information which could help us, for he

knew little of the private life of his nephew. Our only clue lay in the truncated telegram, and with a copy of

this in his hand Holmes set forth to find a second link for his chain. We had shaken off Lord MountJames,

and Overton had gone to consult with the other members of his team over the misfortune which had befallen

There was a telegraphoffice at a short distance from the hotel. We halted outside it.

"It's worth trying, Watson," said Holmes. "Of course, with a warrant we could demand to see the counterfoils,

but we have not reached that stage yet. I don't suppose they remember faces in so busy a place. Let us venture

"I am sorry to trouble you," said he, in his blandest manner, to the young woman behind the grating; "there is

some small mistake about a telegram I sent yesterday. I have had no answer, and I very much fear that I must

Holmes put his finger to his lips and glanced at me. "The last words in it were `for God's sake,'" he

"Then that, of course, accounts for my getting no answer," said Holmes. "Dear me, how very stupid of me, to

be sure! Good morning, miss, and many thanks for having relieved my mind." He chuckled and rubbed his

"We progress, my dear Watson, we progress. I had seven different schemes for getting a glimpse of that

"A startingpoint for our investigation." He hailed a cab. "King's Cross Station," said he.

"Yes; I think we must run down to Cambridge together. All the indications seem to me to point in that

"Tell me," I asked, as we rattled up Gray's Inn Road, "have you any suspicion yet as to the cause of the

disappearance? I don't think that among all our cases I have known one where the motives are more obscure.

Surely you don't really imagine that he may be kidnapped in order to give information against his wealthy

"I confess, my dear Watson, that that does not appeal to me as a very probable explanation. It struck me,

however, as being the one which was most likely to interest that exceedingly unpleasant old person."

"I could mention several. You must admit that it is curious and suggestive that this incident should occur on

the eve of this important match, and should involve the only man whose presence seems essential to the

success of the side. It may, of course, be coincidence, but it is interesting. Amateur sport is free from betting,

but a good deal of outside betting goes on among the public, and it is possible that it might be worth

someone's while to get at a player as the ruffians of the turf get at a racehorse. There is one explanation. A

second very obvious one is that this young man really is the heir of a great property, however modest his

means may at present be, and it is not impossible that a plot to hold him for ransom might be concocted."

"Quite true, Watson. The telegram still remains the only solid thing with which we have to deal, and we must

not permit our attention to wander away from it. It is to gain light upon the purpose of this telegram that we

are now upon our way to Cambridge. The path of our investigation is at present obscure, but I shall be very

much surprised if before evening we have not cleared it up or made a considerable advance along it."

It was already dark when we reached the old University city. Holmes took a cab at the station, and ordered

the man to drive to the house of Dr. Leslie Armstrong. A few minutes later we had stopped at a large mansion

in the busiest thoroughfare. We were shown in, and after a long wait were at last admitted into the

It argues the degree in which I had lost touch with my profession that the name of Leslie Armstrong was

unknown to me. Now I am aware that he is not only one of the heads of the medical school of the University,

but a thinker of European reputation in more than one branch of science. Yet even without knowing his

brilliant record one could not fail to be impressed by a mere glance at the man, the square, massive face, the

brooding eyes under the thatched brows, and the granite moulding of the inflexible jaw. A man of deep

character, a man with an alert mind, grim, ascetic, selfcontained, formidable so I read Dr. Leslie

Armstrong. He held my friend's card in his hand, and he looked up with no very pleased expression upon his

"I have heard your name, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I am aware of your profession, one of which I by no

"In that, doctor, you will find yourself in agreement with every criminal in the country," said my friend,

"So far as your efforts are directed towards the suppression of crime, sir, they must have the support of every

reasonable member of the community, though I cannot doubt that the official machinery is amply sufficient

for the purpose. Where your calling is more open to criticism is when you pry into the secrets of private

individuals, when you rake up family matters which are better hidden, and when you incidentally waste the

time of men who are more busy than yourself. At the present moment, for example, I should be writing a

"No doubt, doctor; and yet the conversation may prove more important than the treatise. Incidentally I may

tell you that we are doing the reverse of what you very justly blame, and that we are endeavouring to prevent

anything like public exposure of private matters which must necessarily follow when once the case is fairly in

the hands of the official police. You may look upon me simply as an irregular pioneer who goes in front of

the regular forces of the country. I have come to ask you about Mr. Godfrey Staunton."

"Ah, indeed!" There was no change of expression in the rugged features of the doctor.

"I have no sympathy with these childish games. The young man's fate interests me deeply, since I know him

"I claim your sympathy, then, in my investigation of Mr. Staunton's fate. Do you know where he is?"

Holmes popped a sheet of paper before the doctor's eyes. "Then perhaps you will explain this receipted bill

for thirteen guineas, paid by Mr. Godfrey Staunton last month to Dr. Leslie Armstrong of Cambridge. I

"I do not feel that there is any reason why I should render an explanation to you, Mr. Holmes."

Holmes replaced the bill in his notebook. "If you prefer a public explanation it must come sooner or later,"

said he. "I have already told you that I can hush up that which others will be bound to publish, and you would

"Dear me, dear me; the postoffice again!" Holmes sighed, wearily. "A most urgent telegram was dispatched

to you from London by Godfrey Staunton at sixfifteen yesterday evening a telegram which is

undoubtedly associated with his disappearance and yet you have not had it. It is most culpable. I shall

Dr. Leslie Armstrong sprang up from behind his desk, and his dark face was crimson with fury.

"I'll trouble you to walk out of my house, sir," said he. "You can tell your employer, Lord MountJames, that

I do not wish to have anything to do either with him or with his agents. No, sir, not another word!" He rang

the bell furiously. "John, show these gentlemen out!" A pompous butler ushered us severely to the door, and

"Dr. Leslie Armstrong is certainly a man of energy and character," said he. "I have not seen a man who, if he

turned his talents that way, was more calculated to fill the gap left by the illustrious Moriarty. And now, my

poor Watson, here we are, stranded and friendless in this inhospitable town, which we cannot leave without

abandoning our case. This little inn just opposite Armstrong's house is singularly adapted to our needs. If you

would engage a front room and purchase the necessaries for the night, I may have time to make a few

These few inquiries proved, however, to be a more lengthy proceeding than Holmes had imagined, for he did

not return to the inn until nearly nine o'clock. He was pale and dejected, stained with dust, and exhausted with

hunger and fatigue. A cold supper was ready upon the table, and when his needs were satisfied and his pipe

alight he was ready to take that half comic and wholly philosophic view which was natural to him when his

affairs were going awry. The sound of carriage wheels caused him to rise and glance out of the window. A

brougham and pair of greys under the glare of a gaslamp stood before the doctor's door.

"It's been out three hours," said Holmes; "started at halfpast six, and here it is back again. That gives a

"But Armstrong is not really a doctor in practice. He is a lecturer and a consultant, but he does not care for

general practice, which distracts him from his literary work. Why, then, does he make these long journeys,

"My dear Watson, can you doubt that it was to him that I first applied? I do not know whether it came from

his own innate depravity or from the promptings of his master, but he was rude enough to set a dog at me.

Neither dog nor man liked the look of my stick, however, and the matter fell through. Relations were strained

after that, and further inquiries out of the question. All that I have learned I got from a friendly native in the

yard of our own inn. It was he who told me of the doctor's habits and of his daily journey. At that instant, to

"Excellent, Watson! You are scintillating this evening. The idea did cross my mind. There is, as you may

have observed, a bicycle shop next to our inn. Into this I rushed, engaged a bicycle, and was able to get

started before the carriage was quite out of sight. I rapidly overtook it, and then, keeping at a discreet distance

of a hundred yards or so, I followed its lights until we were clear of the town. We had got well out on the

country road when a somewhat mortifying incident occurred. The carriage stopped, the doctor alighted,

walked swiftly back to where I had also halted, and told me in an excellent sardonic fashion that he feared the

road was narrow, and that he hoped his carriage did not impede the passage of my bicycle. Nothing could

have been more admirable than his way of putting it. I at once rode past the carriage, and, keeping to the main

road, I went on for a few miles, and then halted in a convenient place to see if the carriage passed. There was

no sign of it, however, and so it became evident that it had turned down one of several side roads which I had

observed. I rode back, but again saw nothing of the carriage, and now, as you perceive, it has returned after

me. Of course, I had at the outset no particular reason to connect these journeys with the disappearance of

Godfrey Staunton, and was only inclined to investigate them on the general grounds that everything which

concerns Dr. Armstrong is at present of interest to us; but, now that I find he keeps so keen a lookout upon

anyone who may follow him on these excursions, the affair appears more important, and I shall not be

"Can we? It is not so easy as you seem to think. You are not familiar with Cambridgeshire scenery, are you?

It does not lend itself to concealment. All this country that I passed over tonight is as flat and clean as the

palm of your hand, and the man we are following is no fool, as he very clearly showed tonight. I have wired

to Overton to let us know any fresh London developments at this address, and in the meantime we can only

concentrate our attention upon Dr. Armstrong, whose name the obliging young lady at the office allowed me

to read upon the counterfoil of Staunton's urgent message. He knows where the young man is to that I'll

swear and if he knows, then it must be our own fault if we cannot manage to know also. At present it must

be admitted that the odd trick is in his possession, and, as you are aware, Watson, it is not my habit to leave

And yet the next day brought us no nearer to the solution of the mystery. A note was handed in after

"Sir," it ran, "I can assure you that you are wasting your time in dogging my movements. I have, as you

discovered last night, a window at the back of my brougham, and if you desire a twentymile ride which will

lead you to the spot from which you started, you have only to follow me. Meanwhile, I can inform you that

no spying upon me can in any way help Mr. Godfrey Staunton, and I am convinced that the best service you

can do to that gentleman is to return at once to London and to report to your employer that you are unable to

"An outspoken, honest antagonist is the doctor," said Holmes. "Well, well, he excites my curiosity, and I

"His carriage is at his door now," said I. "There he is stepping into it. I saw him glance up at our window as

"No, no, my dear Watson! With all respect for your natural acumen I do not think that you are quite a match

for the worthy doctor. I think that possibly I can attain our end by some independent explorations of my own.

I am afraid that I must leave you to your own devices, as the appearance of TWO inquiring strangers upon a

sleepy countryside might excite more gossip than I care for. No doubt you will find some sights to amuse you

in this venerable city, and I hope to bring back a more favourable report to you before evening."

Once more, however, my friend was destined to be disappointed. He came back at night weary and

"I have had a blank day, Watson. Having got the doctor's general direction, I spent the day in visiting all the

villages upon that side of Cambridge, and comparing notes with publicans and other local news agencies. I

have covered some ground: Chesterton, Histon, Waterbeach, and Oakington have each been explored and

have each proved disappointing. The daily appearance of a brougham and pair could hardly have been

overlooked in such Sleepy Hollows. The doctor has scored once more. Is there a telegram for me?"

"Yes; I opened it. Here it is: `Ask for Pompey from Jeremy Dixon, Trinity College.' I don't understand it."

"Oh, it is clear enough. It is from our friend Overton, and is in answer to a question from me. I'll just send

round a note to Mr. Jeremy Dixon, and then I have no doubt that our luck will turn. By the way, is there any

"Yes, the local evening paper has an excellent account in its last edition. Oxford won by a goal and two tries.

The last sentences of the description say: `The defeat of the Light Blues may be entirely attributed to the

unfortunate absence of the crack International, Godfrey Staunton, whose want was felt at every instant of the

game. The lack of combination in the threequarter line and their weakness both in attack and defence more

"Then our friend Overton's forebodings have been justified," said Holmes. "Personally I am in agreement

with Dr. Armstrong, and football does not come within my horizon. Early to bed tonight, Watson, for I

I was horrified by my first glimpse of Holmes next morning, for he sat by the fire holding his tiny

hypodermic syringe. I associated that instrument with the single weakness of his nature, and I feared the

worst when I saw it glittering in his hand. He laughed at my expression of dismay, and laid it upon the table.

"No, no, my dear fellow, there is no cause for alarm. It is not upon this occasion the instrument of evil, but it

will rather prove to be the key which will unlock our mystery. On this syringe I base all my hopes. I have just

returned from a small scouting expedition and everything is favourable. Eat a good breakfast, Watson, for I

propose to get upon Dr. Armstrong's trail today, and once on it I will not stop for rest or food until I run him

"In that case," said I, "we had best carry our breakfast with us, for he is making an early start. His carriage is

"Never mind. Let him go. He will be clever if he can drive where I cannot follow him. When you have

finished come downstairs with me, and I will introduce you to a detective who is a very eminent specialist in

When we descended I followed Holmes into the stable yard, where he opened the door of a loosebox and

led out a squat, lopeared, whiteandtan dog, something between a beagle and a foxhound.

"Let me introduce you to Pompey," said he. "Pompey is the pride of the local draghounds, no very great flier,

as his build will show, but a staunch hound on a scent. Well, Pompey, you may not be fast, but I expect you

will be too fast for a couple of middleaged London gentlemen, so I will take the liberty of fastening this

leather leash to your collar. Now, boy, come along, and show what you can do." He led him across to the

doctor's door. The dog sniffed round for an instant, and then with a shrill whine of excitement started off

down the street, tugging at his leash in his efforts to go faster. In half an hour, we were clear of the town and

"A threadbare and venerable device, but useful upon occasion. I walked into the doctor's yard this morning

and shot my syringe full of aniseed over the hind wheel. A draghound will follow aniseed from here to John

o' Groat's, and our friend Armstrong would have to drive through the Cam before he would shake Pompey off

his trail. Oh, the cunning rascal! This is how he gave me the slip the other night."

The dog had suddenly turned out of the main road into a grassgrown lane. Half a mile farther this opened

into another broad road, and the trail turned hard to the right in the direction of the town, which we had just

quitted. The road took a sweep to the south of the town and continued in the opposite direction to that in

"This DETOUR has been entirely for our benefit, then?" said Holmes. "No wonder that my inquiries among

those villages led to nothing. The doctor has certainly played the game for all it is worth, and one would like

to know the reason for such elaborate deception. This should be the village of Trumpington to the right of us.

And, by Jove! here is the brougham coming round the corner. Quick, Watson, quick, or we are done!"

He sprang through a gate into a field, dragging the reluctant Pompey after him. We had hardly got under the

shelter of the hedge when the carriage rattled past. I caught a glimpse of Dr. Armstrong within, his shoulders

bowed, his head sunk on his hands, the very image of distress. I could tell by my companion's graver face that

"I fear there is some dark ending to our quest," said he. "It cannot be long before we know it. Come, Pompey!

There could be no doubt that we had reached the end of our journey. Pompey ran about and whined eagerly

outside the gate where the marks of the brougham's wheels were still to be seen. A footpath led across to the

lonely cottage. Holmes tied the dog to the hedge, and we hastened onwards. My friend knocked at the little

rustic door, and knocked again without response. And yet the cottage was not deserted, for a low sound came

to our ears a kind of drone of misery and despair, which was indescribably melancholy. Holmes paused

irresolute, and then he glanced back at the road which we had just traversed. A brougham was coming down

"By Jove, the doctor is coming back!" cried Holmes. "That settles it. We are bound to see what it means

He opened the door and we stepped into the hall. The droning sound swelled louder upon our ears until it

became one long, deep wail of distress. It came from upstairs. Holmes darted up and I followed him. He

pushed open a halfclosed door and we both stood appalled at the sight before us.

A woman, young and beautiful, was lying dead upon the bed. Her calm, pale face, with dim, wideopened

blue eyes, looked upward from amid a great tangle of golden hair. At the foot of the bed, half sitting, half

kneeling, his face buried in the clothes, was a young man, whose frame was racked by his sobs. So absorbed

was he by his bitter grief that he never looked up until Holmes's hand was on his shoulder.

The man was so dazed that he could not be made to understand that we were anything but doctors who had

been sent to his assistance. Holmes was endeavouring to utter a few words of consolation, and to explain the

alarm which had been caused to his friends by his sudden disappearance, when there was a step upon the

stairs, and there was the heavy, stern, questioning face of Dr. Armstrong at the door.

"So, gentlemen," said he, "you have attained your end, and have certainly chosen a particularly delicate

moment for your intrusion. I would not brawl in the presence of death, but I can assure you that if I were a

"Excuse me, Dr. Armstrong, I think we are a little at crosspurposes," said my friend, with dignity. "If you

could step downstairs with us we may each be able to give some light to the other upon this miserable affair."

"I wish you to understand, in the first place, that I am not employed by Lord MountJames, and that my

sympathies in this matter are entirely against that nobleman. When a man is lost it is my duty to ascertain his

fate, but having done so the matter ends so far as I am concerned; and so long as there is nothing criminal, I

am much more anxious to hush up private scandals than to give them publicity. If, as I imagine, there is no

breach of the law in this matter, you can absolutely depend upon my discretion and my cooperation in

"You are a good fellow," said he. "I had misjudged you. I thank Heaven that my compunction at leaving poor

Staunton all alone in this plight caused me to turn my carriage back, and so to make your acquaintance.

Knowing as much as you do, the situation is very easily explained. A year ago Godfrey Staunton lodged in

London for a time, and became passionately attached to his landlady's daughter, whom he married. She was

as good as she was beautiful, and as intelligent as she was good. No man need be ashamed of such a wife. But

Godfrey was the heir to this crabbed old nobleman, and it was quite certain that the news of his marriage

would have been the end of his inheritance. I knew the lad well, and I loved him for his many excellent

qualities. I did all I could to help him to keep things straight. We did our very best to keep the thing from

everyone, for when once such a whisper gets about it is not long before everyone has heard it. Thanks to this

lonely cottage and his own discretion, Godfrey has up to now succeeded. Their secret was known to no one

save to me and to one excellent servant who has at present gone for assistance to Trumpington. But at last

there came a terrible blow in the shape of dangerous illness to his wife. It was consumption of the most

virulent kind. The poor boy was half crazed with grief, and yet he had to go to London to play this match, for

he could not get out of it without explanations which would expose his secret. I tried to cheer him up by a

wire, and he sent me one in reply imploring me to do all I could. This was the telegram which you appear in

some inexplicable way to have seen. I did not tell him how urgent the danger was, for I knew that he could do

no good here, but I sent the truth to the girl's father, and he very injudiciously communicated it to Godfrey.

The result was that he came straight away in a state bordering on frenzy, and has remained in the same state,

kneeling at the end of her bed, until this morning death put an end to her sufferings. That is all, Mr. Holmes,

"Come, Watson," said he, and we passed from that house of grief into the pale sunlight of the winter day.

It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning during the winter of '97 that I was awakened by a tugging at my

shoulder. It was Holmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face and told me at a glance

"Come, Watson, come!" he cried. "The game is afoot. Not a word! Into your clothes and come!"

Ten minutes later we were both in a cab and rattling through the silent streets on our way to Charing Cross

Station. The first faint winter's dawn was beginning to appear, and we could dimly see the occasional figure

of an early workman as he passed us, blurred and indistinct in the opalescent London reek. Holmes nestled in

silence into his heavy coat, and I was glad to do the same, for the air was most bitter and neither of us had

broken our fast. It was not until we had consumed some hot tea at the station, and taken our places in the

Kentish train, that we were sufficiently thawed, he to speak and I to listen. Holmes drew a note from his

"MY DEAR MR. HOLMES, I should be very glad of your immediate assistance in what promises to be

a most remarkable case. It is something quite in your line. Except for releasing the lady I will see that

everything is kept exactly as I have found it, but I beg you not to lose an instant, as it is difficult to leave Sir

"Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion his summons has been entirely justified," said

Holmes. "I fancy that every one of his cases has found its way into your collection, and I must admit, Watson,

that you have some power of selection which atones for much which I deplore in your narratives. Your fatal

habit of looking at everything from the point of view of a story instead of as a scientific exercise has ruined

what might have been an instructive and even classical series of demonstrations. You slur over work of the

utmost finesse and delicacy in order to dwell upon sensational details which may excite, but cannot possibly

"I will, my dear Watson, I will. At present I am, as you know, fairly busy, but I propose to devote my

declining years to the composition of a textbook which shall focus the whole art of detection into one

"I should say so. Hopkins's writing shows considerable agitation, and he is not an emotional man. Yes, I

gather there has been violence, and that the body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would not have

caused him to send for me. As to the release of the lady, it would appear that she has been locked in her room

during the tragedy. We are moving in high life, Watson; crackling paper, `E.B.' monogram, coatofarms,

picturesque address. I think that friend Hopkins will live up to his reputation and that we shall have an

"By an inspection of the trains and by reckoning the time. The local police had to be called in, they had to

communicate with Scotland Yard, Hopkins had to go out, and he in turn had to send for me. All that makes a

fair night's work. Well, here we are at Chislehurst Station, and we shall soon set our doubts at rest."

A drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes brought us to a park gate, which was opened for us

by an old lodgekeeper, whose haggard face bore the reflection of some great disaster. The avenue ran

through a noble park, between lines of ancient elms, and ended in a low, widespread house, pillared in front

after the fashion of Palladio. The central part was evidently of a great age and shrouded in ivy, but the large

windows showed that modern changes had been carried out, and one wing of the house appeared to be

entirely new. The youthful figure and alert, eager face of Inspector Stanley Hopkins confronted us in the open

"I'm very glad you have come, Mr. Holmes. And you too, Dr. Watson! But, indeed, if I had my time over

again I should not have troubled you, for since the lady has come to herself she has given so clear an account

of the affair that there is not much left for us to do. You remember that Lewisham gang of burglars?"

"Exactly; the father and two sons. It's their work. I have not a doubt of it. They did a job at Sydenham a

fortnight ago, and were seen and described. Rather cool to do another so soon and so near, but it is they,

"Exactly one of the richest men in Kent. Lady Brackenstall is in the morningroom. Poor lady, she has

had a most dreadful experience. She seemed half dead when I saw her first. I think you had best see her and

Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person. Seldom have I seen so graceful a figure, so womanly a presence,

and so beautiful a face. She was a blonde, goldenhaired, blueeyed, and would, no doubt, have had the

perfect complexion which goes with such colouring had not her recent experience left her drawn and haggard.

Her sufferings were physical as well as mental, for over one eye rose a hideous, plumcoloured swelling,

which her maid, a tall, austere woman, was bathing assiduously with vinegar and water. The lady lay back

exhausted upon a couch, but her quick, observant gaze as we entered the room, and the alert expression of her

beautiful features, showed that neither her wits nor her courage had been shaken by her terrible experience.

She was enveloped in a loose dressinggown of blue and silver, but a black sequincovered dinnerdress

"I have told you all that happened, Mr. Hopkins," she said, wearily; "could you not repeat it for me? Well, if

you think it necessary, I will tell these gentlemen what occurred. Have they been in the diningroom yet?"

"I shall be glad when you can arrange matters. It is horrible to me to think of him still lying there." She

shuddered and buried her face in her hands. As she did so the loose gown fell back from her forearms.

"You have other injuries, madam! What is this?" Two vivid red spots stood out on one of the white, round

"It is nothing. It has no connection with the hideous business of last night. If you and your friend will sit

"I am the wife of Sir Eustace Brackenstall. I have been married about a year. I suppose that it is no use my

attempting to conceal that our marriage has not been a happy one. I fear that all our neighbours would tell you

that, even if I were to attempt to deny it. Perhaps the fault may be partly mine. I was brought up in the freer,

less conventional atmosphere of South Australia, and this English life, with its proprieties and its primness, is

not congenial to me. But the main reason lies in the one fact which is notorious to everyone, and that is that

Sir Eustace was a confirmed drunkard. To be with such a man for an hour is unpleasant. Can you imagine

what it means for a sensitive and highspirited woman to be tied to him for day and night? It is a sacrilege, a

crime, a villainy to hold that such a marriage is binding. I say that these monstrous laws of yours will bring a

curse upon the land Heaven will not let such wickedness endure." For an instant she sat up, her cheeks

flushed, and her eyes blazing from under the terrible mark upon her brow. Then the strong, soothing hand of

the austere maid drew her head down on to the cushion, and the wild anger died away into passionate

"I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in this house all servants sleep in the modern

wing. This central block is made up of the dwellingrooms, with the kitchen behind and our bedroom above.

My maid Theresa sleeps above my room. There is no one else, and no sound could alarm those who are in the

farther wing. This must have been well known to the robbers, or they would not have acted as they did.

"Sir Eustace retired about halfpast ten. The servants had already gone to their quarters. Only my maid was

up, and she had remained in her room at the top of the house until I needed her services. I sat until after

eleven in this room, absorbed in a book. Then I walked round to see that all was right before I went upstairs.

It was my custom to do this myself, for, as I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to be trusted. I went

into the kitchen, the butler's pantry, the gunroom, the billiardroom, the drawingroom, and finally the

diningroom. As I approached the window, which is covered with thick curtains, I suddenly felt the wind

blow upon my face and realized that it was open. I flung the curtain aside and found myself face to face with

a broadshouldered, elderly man who had just stepped into the room. The window is a long French one,

which really forms a door leading to the lawn. I held my bedroom candle lit in my hand, and, by its light,

behind the first man I saw two others, who were in the act of entering. I stepped back, but the fellow was on

me in an instant. He caught me first by the wrist and then by the throat. I opened my mouth to scream, but he

struck me a savage blow with his fist over the eye, and felled me to the ground. I must have been unconscious

for a few minutes, for when I came to myself I found that they had torn down the bellrope and had secured

me tightly to the oaken chair which stands at the head of the diningroom table. I was so firmly bound that I

could not move, and a handkerchief round my mouth prevented me from uttering any sound. It was at this

instant that my unfortunate husband entered the room. He had evidently heard some suspicious sounds, and

he came prepared for such a scene as he found. He was dressed in his shirt and trousers, with his favourite

blackthorn cudgel in his hand. He rushed at one of the burglars, but another it was the elderly man

stooped, picked the poker out of the grate, and struck him a horrible blow as he passed. He fell without a

groan, and never moved again. I fainted once more, but again it could only have been a very few minutes

during which I was insensible. When I opened my eyes I found that they had collected the silver from the

sideboard, and they had drawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of them had a glass in his hand. I

have already told you, have I not, that one was elderly, with a beard, and the others young, hairless lads. They

might have been a father with his two sons. They talked together in whispers. Then they came over and made

sure that I was still securely bound. Finally they withdrew, closing the window after them. It was quite a

quarter of an hour before I got my mouth free. When I did so my screams brought the maid to my assistance.

The other servants were soon alarmed, and we sent for the local police, who instantly communicated with

London. That is really all that I can tell you, gentlemen, and I trust that it will not be necessary for me to go

"I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall's patience and time," said Holmes. "Before I go

into the diningroom I should like to hear your experience." He looked at the maid.

"I saw the men before ever they came into the house," said she. "As I sat by my bedroom window I saw three

men in the moonlight down by the lodge gate yonder, but I thought nothing of it at the time. It was more than

an hour after that I heard my mistress scream, and down I ran, to find her, poor lamb, just as she says, and

him on the floor with his blood and brains over the room. It was enough to drive a woman out of her wits,

tied there, and her very dress spotted with him; but she never wanted courage, did Miss Mary Fraser of

Adelaide, and Lady Brackenstall of Abbey Grange hasn't learned new ways. You've questioned her long

enough, you gentlemen, and now she is coming to her own room, just with her old Theresa, to get the rest

With a motherly tenderness the gaunt woman put her arm round her mistress and led her from the room.

"She has been with her all her life," said Hopkins. "Nursed her as a baby, and came with her to England when

they first left Australia eighteen months ago. Theresa Wright is her name, and the kind of maid you don't pick

The keen interest had passed out of Holmes's expressive face, and I knew that with the mystery all the charm

of the case had departed. There still remained an arrest to be effected, but what were these commonplace

rogues that he should soil his hands with them? An abstruse and learned specialist who finds that he has been

called in for a case of measles would experience something of the annoyance which I read in my friend's

eyes. Yet the scene in the diningroom of the Abbey Grange was sufficiently strange to arrest his attention

It was a very large and high chamber, with carved oak ceiling, oaken panelling, and a fine array of deer's

heads and ancient weapons around the walls. At the farther end from the door was the high French window of

which we had heard. Three smaller windows on the righthand side filled the apartment with cold winter

sunshine. On the left was a large, deep fireplace, with a massive, overhanging oak mantelpiece. Beside the

fireplace was a heavy oaken chair with arms and crossbars at the bottom. In and out through the open

woodwork was woven a crimson cord, which was secured at each side to the crosspiece below. In releasing

the lady the cord had been slipped off her, but the knots with which it had been secured still remained. These

details only struck our attention afterwards, for our thoughts were entirely absorbed by the terrible object

It was the body of a tall, wellmade man, about forty years of age. He lay upon his back, his face upturned,

with his white teeth grinning through his short black beard. His two clenched hands were raised above his

head, and a heavy blackthorn stick lay across them. His dark, handsome, aquiline features were convulsed

into a spasm of vindictive hatred, which had set his dead face in a terribly fiendish expression. He had

evidently been in his bed when the alarm had broken out, for he wore a foppish embroidered nightshirt, and

his bare feet projected from his trousers. His head was horribly injured, and the whole room bore witness to

the savage ferocity of the blow which had struck him down. Beside him lay the heavy poker, bent into a

curve by the concussion. Holmes examined both it and the indescribable wreck which it had wrought.

"Yes," said Hopkins. "I have some record of the fellow, and he is a rough customer."

"Not the slightest. We have been on the lookout for him, and there was some idea that he had got away to

America. Now that we know the gang are here I don't see how they can escape. We have the news at every

seaport already, and a reward will be offered before evening. What beats me is how they could have done so

mad a thing, knowing that the lady could describe them, and that we could not fail to recognise the

"Exactly. One would have expected that they would have silenced Lady Brackenstall as well."

"They may not have realized," I suggested, "that she had recovered from her faint."

"That is likely enough. If she seemed to be senseless they would not take her life. What about this poor

"He was a goodhearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend when he was drunk, or rather when he

was half drunk, for he seldom really went the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such times, and he

was capable of anything. From what I hear, in spite of all his wealth and his title, he very nearly came our

way once or twice. There was a scandal about his drenching a dog with petroleum and setting it on fire her

ladyship's dog, to make the matter worse and that was only hushed up with difficulty. Then he threw a

decanter at that maid, Theresa Wright; there was trouble about that. On the whole, and between ourselves, it

Holmes was down on his knees examining with great attention the knots upon the red cord with which the

lady had been secured. Then he carefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it had snapped off

"When this was pulled down the bell in the kitchen must have rung loudly," he remarked.

"How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he pull at a bellrope in that reckless fashion?"

"Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which I have asked myself again and again. There

can be no doubt that this fellow must have known the house and its habits. He must have perfectly understood

that the servants would all be in bed at that comparatively early hour, and that no one could possibly hear a

bell ring in the kitchen. Therefore he must have been in close league with one of the servants. Surely that is

"Other things being equal," said Holmes, "one would suspect the one at whose head the master threw a

decanter. And yet that would involve treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems devoted.

Well, well, the point is a minor one, and when you have Randall you will probably find no difficulty in

securing his accomplice. The lady's story certainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed corroboration, by

every detail which we see before us." He walked to the French window and threw it open. "There are no signs

here, but the ground is iron hard, and one would not expect them. I see that these candles on the mantelpiece

"Yes; it was by their light and that of the lady's bedroom candle that the burglars saw their way about."

"Well, they did not take much only halfadozen articles of plate off the sideboard. Lady Brackenstall

thinks that they were themselves so disturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack the house

"Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been untouched, I suppose?"

The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged with wine, and one of them containing some

dregs of beeswing. The bottle stood near them, twothirds full, and beside it lay a long, deeplystained

cork. Its appearance and the dust upon the bottle showed that it was no common vintage which the murderers

A change had come over Holmes's manner. He had lost his listless expression, and again I saw an alert light

of interest in his keen, deepset eyes. He raised the cork and examined it minutely.

Hopkins pointed to a halfopened drawer. In it lay some table linen and a large corkscrew.

"No; you remember that she was senseless at the moment when the bottle was opened."

"Quite so. As a matter of fact that screw was NOT used. This bottle was opened by a pocketscrew, probably

contained in a knife, and not more than an inch and a half long. If you examine the top of the cork you will

observe that the screw was driven in three times before the cork was extracted. It has never been transfixed.

This long screw would have transfixed it and drawn it with a single pull. When you catch this fellow you will

"But these glasses do puzzle me, I confess. Lady Brackenstall actually SAW the three men drinking, did she

"Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said? And yet you must admit that the three glasses are very

remarkable, Hopkins. What, you see nothing remarkable! Well, well, let it pass. Perhaps when a man has

special knowledge and special powers like my own it rather encourages him to seek a complex explanation

when a simpler one is at hand. Of course, it must be a mere chance about the glasses. Well, good morning,

Hopkins. I don't see that I can be of any use to you, and you appear to have your case very clear. You will let

me know when Randall is arrested, and any further developments which may occur. I trust that I shall soon

have to congratulate you upon a successful conclusion. Come, Watson, I fancy that we may employ ourselves

During our return journey I could see by Holmes's face that he was much puzzled by something which he had

observed. Every now and then, by an effort, he would throw off the impression and talk as if the matter were

clear, but then his doubts would settle down upon him again, and his knitted brows and abstracted eyes would

show that his thoughts had gone back once more to the great diningroom of the Abbey Grange in which this

midnight tragedy had been enacted. At last, by a sudden impulse, just as our train was crawling out of a

"Excuse me, my dear fellow," said he, as we watched the rear carriages of our train disappearing round a

curve; "I am sorry to make you the victim of what may seem a mere whim, but on my life, Watson, I simply

CAN'T leave that case in this condition. Every instinct that I possess cries out against it. It's wrong it's all

wrong I'll swear that it's wrong. And yet the lady's story was complete, the maid's corroboration was

sufficient, the detail was fairly exact. What have I to put against that? Three wineglasses, that is all. But if I

had not taken things for granted, if I had examined everything with care which I would have shown had we

approached the case DE NOVO and had no cutanddried story to warp my mind, would I not then have

found something more definite to go upon? Of course I should. Sit down on this bench, Watson, until a train

for Chislehurst arrives, and allow me to lay the evidence before you, imploring you in the first instance to

dismiss from your mind the idea that anything which the maid or her mistress may have said must necessarily

be true. The lady's charming personality must not be permitted to warp our judgment.

"Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at it in cold blood, would excite our suspicion.

These burglars made a considerable haul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of them and of their

appearance was in the papers, and would naturally occur to anyone who wished to invent a story in which

imaginary robbers should play a part. As a matter of fact, burglars who have done a good stroke of business

are, as a rule, only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet without embarking on another perilous

undertaking. Again, it is unusual for burglars to operate at so early an hour; it is unusual for burglars to strike

a lady to prevent her screaming, since one would imagine that was the sure way to make her scream; it is

unusual for them to commit murder when their numbers are sufficient to overpower one man; it is unusual for

them to be content with a limited plunder when there is much more within their reach; and finally I should

say that it was very unusual for such men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all these unusuals strike you,

"Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each of them is quite possible in itself. The most

unusual thing of all, as it seems to me, is that the lady should be tied to the chair."

"Well, I am not so clear about that, Watson; for it is evident that they must either kill her or else secure her in

such a way that she could not give immediate notice of their escape. But at any rate I have shown, have I not,

that there is a certain element of improbability about the lady's story? And now on the top of this comes the

"Exactly; but there was beeswing only in one glass. You must have noticed that fact. What does that suggest

"Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable that the first two glasses were clear and the third

heavily charged with it. There are two possible explanations, and only two. One is that after the second glass

was filled the bottle was violently agitated, and so the third glass received the beeswing. That does not

"That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both were poured into a third glass, so as to give the

false impression that three people had been here. In that way all the beeswing would be in the last glass,

would it not? Yes, I am convinced that this is so. But if I have hit upon the true explanation of this one small

phenomenon, then in an instant the case rises from the commonplace to the exceedingly remarkable, for it can

only mean that Lady Brackenstall and her maid have deliberately lied to us, that not one word of their story is

to be believed, that they have some very strong reason for covering the real criminal, and that we must

construct our case for ourselves without any help from them. That is the mission which now lies before us,

The household of the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our return, but Sherlock Holmes, finding that

Stanley Hopkins had gone off to report to headquarters, took possession of the diningroom, locked the

door upon the inside, and devoted himself for two hours to one of those minute and laborious investigations

which formed the solid basis on which his brilliant edifices of deduction were reared. Seated in a corner like

an interested student who observes the demonstration of his professor, I followed every step of that

remarkable research. The window, the curtains, the carpet, the chair, the rope each in turn was minutely

examined and duly pondered. The body of the unfortunate baronet had been removed, but all else remained as

we had seen it in the morning. Then, to my astonishment, Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece.

Far above his head hung the few inches of red cord which were still attached to the wire. For a long time he

gazed upward at it, and then in an attempt to get nearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket on the

wall. This brought his hand within a few inches of the broken end of the rope, but it was not this so much as

the bracket itself which seemed to engage his attention. Finally he sprang down with an ejaculation of

"It's all right, Watson," said he. "We have got our case one of the most remarkable in our collection. But,

dear me, how slowwitted I have been, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime! Now, I

"Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person. Strong as a lion witness the blow that bent

that poker. Six foot three in height, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers; finally, remarkably

quickwitted, for this whole ingenious story is of his concoction. Yes, Watson, we have come upon the

handiwork of a very remarkable individual. And yet in that bellrope he has given us a clue which should not

"Well, if you were to pull down a bellrope, Watson, where would you expect it to break? Surely at the spot

where it is attached to the wire. Why should it break three inches from the top as this one has done?"

"Exactly. This end, which we can examine, is frayed. He was cunning enough to do that with his knife. But

the other end is not frayed. You could not observe that from here, but if you were on the mantelpiece you

would see that it is cut clean off without any mark of fraying whatever. You can reconstruct what occurred.

The man needed the rope. He would not tear it down for fear of giving the alarm by ringing the bell. What did

he do? He sprang up on the mantelpiece, could not quite reach it, put his knee on the bracket you will see

the impression in the dust and so got his knife to bear upon the cord. I could not reach the place by at least

three inches, from which I infer that he is at least three inches a bigger man than I. Look at that mark upon the

"Undoubtedly it is blood. This alone puts the lady's story out of court. If she were seated on the chair when

the crime was done, how comes that mark? No, no; she was placed in the chair AFTER the death of her

husband. I'll wager that the black dress shows a corresponding mark to this. We have not yet met our

Waterloo, Watson, but this is our Marengo, for it begins in defeat and ends in victory. I should like now to

have a few words with the nurse Theresa. We must be wary for awhile, if we are to get the information which

She was an interesting person, this stern Australian nurse. Taciturn, suspicious, ungracious, it took some time

before Holmes's pleasant manner and frank acceptance of all that she said thawed her into a corresponding

"Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me. I heard him call my mistress a name, and I told him that

he would not dare to speak so if her brother had been there. Then it was that he threw it at me. He might have

thrown a dozen if he had but left my bonny bird alone. He was for ever illtreating her, and she too proud to

complain. She will not even tell me all that he has done to her. She never told me of those marks on her arm

that you saw this morning, but I know very well that they come from a stab with a hatpin. The sly fiend

Heaven forgive me that I should speak of him so, now that he is dead, but a fiend he was if ever one walked

the earth. He was all honey when first we met him, only eighteen months ago, and we both feel as if it were

eighteen years. She had only just arrived in London. Yes, it was her first voyage she had never been from

home before. He won her with his title and his money and his false London ways. If she made a mistake she

has paid for it, if ever a woman did. What month did we meet him? Well, I tell you it was just after we

arrived. We arrived in June, and it was July. They were married in January of last year. Yes, she is down in

the morningroom again, and I have no doubt she will see you, but you must not ask too much of her, for she

Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but looked brighter than before. The maid had entered

"No," Holmes answered, in his gentlest voice, "I will not cause you any unnecessary trouble, Lady

Brackenstall, and my whole desire is to make things easy for you, for I am convinced that you are a

muchtried woman. If you will treat me as a friend and trust me you may find that I will justify your trust."

"No, no, Lady Brackenstall, it is no use. You may have heard of any little reputation which I possess. I will

Mistress and maid were both staring at Holmes with pale faces and frightened eyes.

"You are an impudent fellow!" cried Theresa. "Do you mean to say that my mistress has told a lie?"

For an instant there was hesitation in her beautiful face. Then some new strong thought caused it to set like a

Holmes took his hat and shrugged his shoulders. "I am sorry," he said, and without another word we left the

room and the house. There was a pond in the park, and to this my friend led the way. It was frozen over, but a

single hole was left for the convenience of a solitary swan. Holmes gazed at it and then passed on to the lodge

gate. There he scribbled a short note for Stanley Hopkins and left it with the lodgekeeper.

"It may be a hit or it may be a miss, but we are bound to do something for friend Hopkins, just to justify this

second visit," said he. "I will not quite take him into my confidence yet. I think our next scene of operations

must be the shipping office of the AdelaideSouthampton line, which stands at the end of Pall Mall, if I

remember right. There is a second line of steamers which connect South Australia with England, but we will

Holmes's card sent in to the manager ensured instant attention, and he was not long in acquiring all the

information which he needed. In June of '95 only one of their line had reached a home port. It was the ROCK

OF GIBRALTAR, their largest and best boat. A reference to the passenger list showed that Miss Fraser of

Adelaide, with her maid, had made the voyage in her. The boat was now on her way to Australia, somewhere

to the south of the Suez Canal. Her officers were the same as in '95, with one exception. The first officer, Mr.

Jack Croker, had been made a captain and was to take charge of their new ship, the BASS ROCK, sailing in

two days' time from Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he was likely to be in that morning for

No; Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to know more about his record and character.

His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in the fleet to touch him. As to his character, he was

reliable on duty, but a wild, desperate fellow off the deck of his ship, hotheaded, excitable, but loyal, honest,

and kindhearted. That was the pith of the information with which Holmes left the office of the

AdelaideSouthampton company. Thence he drove to Scotland Yard, but instead of entering he sat in his cab

with his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought. Finally he drove round to the Charing Cross telegraph

office, sent off a message, and then, at last, we made for Baker Street once more.

"No, I couldn't do it, Watson," said he, as we reentered our room. "Once that warrant was made out nothing

on earth would save him. Once or twice in my career I feel that I have done more real harm by my discovery

of the criminal than ever he had done by his crime. I have learned caution now, and I had rather play tricks

with the law of England than with my own conscience. Let us know a little more before we act."

Before evening we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins. Things were not going very well with him.

"I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really do sometimes think that you have powers that are not

human. Now, how on earth could you know that the stolen silver was at the bottom of that pond?"

"But you haven't helped me. You have made the affair far more difficult. What sort of burglars are they who

"It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. I was merely going on the idea that if the silver had been taken

by persons who did not want it, who merely took it for a blind as it were, then they would naturally be

"Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through the French window there was the pond, with

one tempting little hole in the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there be a better hidingplace?"

"Ah, a hidingplace that is better!" cried Stanley Hopkins. "Yes, yes, I see it all now! It was early, there

were folk upon the roads, they were afraid of being seen with the silver, so they sank it in the pond, intending

to return for it when the coast was clear. Excellent, Mr. Holmes that is better than your idea of a blind."

"Quite so; you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt that my own ideas were quite wild, but you

"Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your theory that they committed a murder in Kent last

"It is fatal, Mr. Holmes, absolutely fatal. Still, there are other gangs of three besides the Randalls, or it may be

Yes, Mr. Holmes; there is no rest for me until I have got to the bottom of the business. I suppose you have no

"Ah, that's the question, of course. But I commend the idea to your mind. You might possibly find that there

was something in it. You won't stop for dinner? Well, goodbye, and let us know how you get on."

Dinner was over and the table cleared before Holmes alluded to the matter again. He had lit his pipe and held

his slippered feet to the cheerful blaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked at his watch.

"Now within a few minutes. I dare say you thought I acted rather badly to Stanley Hopkins just now?"

"A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it this way: what I know is unofficial; what he knows is

official. I have the right to private judgment, but he has none. He must disclose all, or he is a traitor to his

service. In a doubtful case I would not put him in so painful a position, and so I reserve my information until

"The time has come. You will now be present at the last scene of a remarkable little drama."

There was a sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened to admit as fine a specimen of manhood as ever

passed through it. He was a very tall young man, goldenmoustached, blueeyed, with a skin which had been

burned by tropical suns, and a springy step which showed that the huge frame was as active as it was strong.

He closed the door behind him, and then he stood with clenched hands and heaving breast, choking down

Our visitor sank into an armchair and looked from one to the other of us with questioning eyes.

"I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. I heard that you had been down to the office. There was

no getting away from you. Let's hear the worst. What are you going to do with me? Arrest me? Speak out,

"Give him a cigar," said Holmes. "Bite on that, Captain Croker, and don't let your nerves run away with you.

I should not sit here smoking with you if I thought that you were a common criminal, you may be sure of

that. Be frank with me, and we may do some good. Play tricks with me, and I'll crush you."

"To give me a true account of all that happened at the Abbey Grange last night a TRUE account, mind

you, with nothing added and nothing taken off. I know so much already that if you go one inch off the

straight I'll blow this police whistle from my window and the affair goes out of my hands for ever."

The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg with his great, sunburned hand.

"I'll chance it," he cried. "I believe you are a man of your word, and a white man, and I'll tell you the whole

story. But one thing I will say first. So far as I am concerned I regret nothing and I fear nothing, and I would

do it all again and be proud of the job. Curse the beast, if he had as many lives as a cat he would owe them all

to me! But it's the lady, Mary Mary Fraser for never will I call her by that accursed name. When I

think of getting her into trouble, I who would give my life just to bring one smile to her dear face, it's that that

turns my soul into water. And yet and yet what less could I do? I'll tell you my story, gentlemen, and

"I must go back a bit. You seem to know everything, so I expect that you know that I met her when she was a

passenger and I was first officer of the ROCK OF GIBRALTAR. From the first day I met her she was the

only woman to me. Every day of that voyage I loved her more, and many a time since have I kneeled down in

the darkness of the night watch and kissed the deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod it. She

was never engaged to me. She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treated a man. I have no complaint to

make. It was all love on my side, and all good comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted she was

"Next time I came back from sea I heard of her marriage. Well, why shouldn't she marry whom she liked?

Title and money who could carry them better than she? She was born for all that is beautiful and dainty. I

didn't grieve over her marriage. I was not such a selfish hound as that. I just rejoiced that good luck had come

her way, and that she had not thrown herself away on a penniless sailor. That's how I loved Mary Fraser.

"Well, I never thought to see her again; but last voyage I was promoted, and the new boat was not yet

launched, so I had to wait for a couple of months with my people at Sydenham. One day out in a country lane

I met Theresa Wright, her old maid. She told me about her, about him, about everything. I tell you,

gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad. This drunken hound, that he should dare to raise his hand to her whose

boots he was not worthy to lick! I met Theresa again. Then I met Mary herself and met her again. Then

she would meet me no more. But the other day I had a notice that I was to start on my voyage within a week,

and I determined that I would see her once before I left. Theresa was always my friend, for she loved Mary

and hated this villain almost as much as I did. From her I learned the ways of the house. Mary used to sit up

reading in her own little room downstairs. I crept round there last night and scratched at the window. At first

she would not open to me, but in her heart I know that now she loves me, and she could not leave me in the

frosty night. She whispered to me to come round to the big front window, and I found it open before me so as

to let me into the diningroom. Again I heard from her own lips things that made my blood boil, and again I

cursed this brute who mishandled the woman that I loved. Well, gentlemen, I was standing with her just

inside the window, in all innocence, as Heaven is my judge, when he rushed like a madman into the room,

called her the vilest name that a man could use to a woman, and welted her across the face with the stick he

had in his hand. I had sprung for the poker, and it was a fair fight between us. See here on my arm where his

first blow fell. Then it was my turn, and I went through him as if he had been a rotten pumpkin. Do you think

I was sorry? Not I! It was his life or mine, but far more than that it was his life or hers, for how could I leave

her in the power of this madman? That was how I killed him. Was I wrong? Well, then, what would either of

"She had screamed when he struck her, and that brought old Theresa down from the room above. There was a

bottle of wine on the sideboard, and I opened it and poured a little between Mary's lips, for she was half dead

with the shock. Then I took a drop myself. Theresa was as cool as ice, and it was her plot as much as mine.

We must make it appear that burglars had done the thing. Theresa kept on repeating our story to her mistress,

while I swarmed up and cut the rope of the bell. Then I lashed her in her chair, and frayed out the end of the

rope to make it look natural, else they would wonder how in the world a burglar could have got up there to

cut it. Then I gathered up a few plates and pots of silver, to carry out the idea of a robbery, and there I left

them with orders to give the alarm when I had a quarter of an hour's start. I dropped the silver into the pond

and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for once in my life I had done a real good night's work. And that's

Holmes smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossed the room and shook our visitor by the hand.

"That's what I think," said he. "I know that every word is true, for you have hardly said a word which I did

not know. No one but an acrobat or a sailor could have got up to that bellrope from the bracket, and no one

but a sailor could have made the knots with which the cord was fastened to the chair. Only once had this lady

been brought into contact with sailors, and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own class of

life, since she was trying hard to shield him and so showing that she loved him. You see how easy it was for

"And the police haven't; nor will they, to the best of my belief. Now, look here, Captain Croker, this is a very

serious matter, though I am willing to admit that you acted under the most extreme provocation to which any

man could be subjected. I am not sure that in defence of your own life your action will not be pronounced

legitimate. However, that is for a British jury to decide. Meanwhile I have so much sympathy for you that if

you choose to disappear in the next twentyfour hours I will promise you that no one will hinder you."

"What sort of proposal is that to make a man? I know enough of law to understand that Mary would be had as

accomplice. Do you think I would leave her alone to face the music while I slunk away? No, sir; let them do

their worst upon me, but for Heaven's sake, Mr. Holmes, find some way of keeping my poor Mary out of the

"I was only testing you, and you ring true every time. Well, it is a great responsibility that I take upon myself,

but I have given Hopkins an excellent hint, and if he can't avail himself of it I can do no more. See here,

Captain Croker, we'll do this in due form of law. You are the prisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I

never met a man who was more eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentleman of the jury,

"Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Croker. So long as the law does not find some other victim

you are safe from me. Come back to this lady in a year, and may her future and yours justify us in the

I HAD intended "The Adventure of the Abbey Grange" to be the last of those exploits of my friend, Mr.

Sherlock Holmes, which I should ever communicate to the public. This resolution of mine was not due to any

lack of material, since I have notes of many hundreds of cases to which I have never alluded, nor was it

caused by any waning interest on the part of my readers in the singular personality and unique methods of

this remarkable man. The real reason lay in the reluctance which Mr. Holmes has shown to the continued

publication of his experiences. So long as he was in actual professional practice the records of his successes

were of some practical value to him; but since he has definitely retired from London and betaken himself to

study and beefarming on the Sussex Downs, notoriety has become hateful to him, and he has peremptorily

requested that his wishes in this matter should be strictly observed. It was only upon my representing to him

that I had given a promise that "The Adventure of the Second Stain" should be published when the times

were ripe, and pointing out to him that it is only appropriate that this long series of episodes should culminate

in the most important international case which he has ever been called upon to handle, that I at last succeeded

in obtaining his consent that a carefullyguarded account of the incident should at last be laid before the

public. If in telling the story I seem to be somewhat vague in certain details the public will readily understand

It was, then, in a year, and even in a decade, that shall be nameless, that upon one Tuesday morning in

autumn we found two visitors of European fame within the walls of our humble room in Baker Street. The

one, austere, highnosed, eagleeyed, and dominant, was none other than the illustrious Lord Bellinger,

twice Premier of Britain. The other, dark, clearcut, and elegant, hardly yet of middle age, and endowed with

every beauty of body and of mind, was the Right Honourable Trelawney Hope, Secretary for European

Affairs, and the most rising statesman in the country. They sat side by side upon our paperlittered settee,

and it was easy to see from their worn and anxious faces that it was business of the most pressing importance

which had brought them. The Premier's thin, blueveined hands were clasped tightly over the ivory head of

his umbrella, and his gaunt, ascetic face looked gloomily from Holmes to me. The European Secretary pulled

"When I discovered my loss, Mr. Holmes, which was at eight o'clock this morning, I at once informed the

"No, sir," said the Prime Minister, with the quick, decisive manner for which he was famous. "We have not

done so, nor is it possible that we should do so. To inform the police must, in the long run, mean to inform

"Because the document in question is of such immense importance that its publication might very easily I

might almost say probably lead to European complications of the utmost moment. It is not too much to

say that peace or war may hang upon the issue. Unless its recovery can be attended with the utmost secrecy,

then it may as well not be recovered at all, for all that is aimed at by those who have taken it is that its

"I understand. Now, Mr. Trelawney Hope, I should be much obliged if you would tell me exactly the

"That can be done in a very few words, Mr. Holmes. The letter for it was a letter from a foreign potentate

was received six days ago. It was of such importance that I have never left it in my safe, but I have taken

it across each evening to my house in Whitehall Terrace, and kept it in my bedroom in a locked

despatchbox. It was there last night. Of that I am certain. I actually opened the box while I was dressing for

dinner, and saw the document inside. This morning it was gone. The despatchbox had stood beside the glass

upon my dressingtable all night. I am a light sleeper, and so is my wife. We are both prepared to swear that

no one could have entered the room during the night. And yet I repeat that the paper is gone."

"My wife had gone to the theatre. I waited up for her. It was halfpast eleven before we went to our room."

"No one is ever permitted to enter that room save the housemaid in the morning, and my valet, or my wife's

maid, during the rest of the day. They are both trusty servants who have been with us for some time. Besides,

neither of them could possibly have known that there was anything more valuable than the ordinary

"I have long known, sir, how high is your sense of public duty," said he. "I am convinced that in the case of a

secret of this importance it would rise superior to the most intimate domestic ties."

"You do me no more than justice, sir. Until this morning I have never breathed one word to my wife upon

"Each member of the Cabinet was informed of it yesterday; but the pledge of secrecy which attends every

Cabinet meeting was increased by the solemn warning which was given by the Prime Minister. Good

heavens, to think that within a few hours I should myself have lost it!" His handsome face was distorted with

a spasm of despair, and his hands tore at his hair. For a moment we caught a glimpse of the natural man,

impulsive, ardent, keenly sensitive. The next the aristocratic mask was replaced, and the gentle voice had

returned. "Besides the members of the Cabinet there are two, or possibly three, departmental officials who

"I believe that no one abroad has seen it save the man who wrote it. I am well convinced that his Ministers

"Now, sir, I must ask you more particularly what this document is, and why its disappearance should have

The two statesmen exchanged a quick glance and the Premier's shaggy eyebrows gathered in a frown.

"Mr. Holmes, the envelope is a long, thin one of pale blue colour. There is a seal of red wax stamped with a

"I fear, sir," said Holmes, "that, interesting and indeed essential as these details are, my inquiries must go

"That is a State secret of the utmost importance, and I fear that I cannot tell you, nor do I see that it is

necessary. If by the aid of the powers which you are said to possess you can find such an envelope as I

describe with its enclosure, you will have deserved well of your country, and earned any reward which it lies

"You are two of the most busy men in the country," said he, "and in my own small way I have also a good

many calls upon me. I regret exceedingly that I cannot help you in this matter, and any continuation of this

The Premier sprang to his feet with that quick, fierce gleam of his deepset eyes before which a Cabinet has

cowered. "I am not accustomed, sir " he began, but mastered his anger and resumed his seat. For a

minute or more we all sat in silence. Then the old statesman shrugged his shoulders.

"We must accept your terms, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right, and it is unreasonable for us to expect you

"Then I will tell you, relying entirely upon your honour and that of your colleague, Dr. Watson. I may appeal

to your patriotism also, for I could not imagine a greater misfortune for the country than that this affair should

"The letter, then, is from a certain foreign potentate who has been ruffled by some recent Colonial

developments of this country. It has been written hurriedly and upon his own responsibility entirely. Inquiries

have shown that his Ministers know nothing of the matter. At the same time it is couched in so unfortunate a

manner, and certain phrases in it are of so provocative a character, that its publication would undoubtedly

lead to a most dangerous state of feeling in this country. There would be such a ferment, sir, that I do not

hesitate to say that within a week of the publication of that letter this country would be involved in a great

"Exactly. It was he. And it is this letter this letter which may well mean the expenditure of a thousand

millions and the lives of a hundred thousand men which has become lost in this unaccountable fashion."

"No, sir, we have strong reason to believe that he already understands that he has acted in an indiscreet and

hotheaded manner. It would be a greater blow to him and to his country than to us if this letter were to come

"If this is so, whose interest is it that the letter should come out? Why should anyone desire to steal it or to

"There, Mr. Holmes, you take me into regions of high international politics. But if you consider the European

situation you will have no difficulty in perceiving the motive. The whole of Europe is an armed camp. There

is a double league which makes a fair balance of military power. Great Britain holds the scales. If Britain

were driven into war with one confederacy, it would assure the supremacy of the other confederacy, whether

"Very clearly. It is then the interest of the enemies of this potentate to secure and publish this letter, so as to

"And to whom would this document be sent if it fell into the hands of an enemy?"

"To any of the great Chancelleries of Europe. It is probably speeding on its way thither at the present instant

Mr. Trelawney Hope dropped his head on his chest and groaned aloud. The Premier placed his hand kindly

"It is your misfortune, my dear fellow. No one can blame you. There is no precaution which you have

neglected. Now, Mr. Holmes, you are in full possession of the facts. What course do you recommend?"

"Consider the facts, sir. It is inconceivable that it was taken after eleventhirty at night, since I understand

that Mr. Hope and his wife were both in the room from that hour until the loss was found out. It was taken,

then, yesterday evening between seventhirty and eleventhirty, probably near the earlier hour, since

whoever took it evidently knew that it was there and would naturally secure it as early as possible. Now, sir,

if a document of this importance were taken at that hour, where can it be now? No one has any reason to

retain it. It has been passed rapidly on to those who need it. What chance have we now to overtake or even to

"What you say is perfectly logical, Mr. Holmes. I feel that the matter is indeed out of our hands."

"Let us presume, for argument's sake, that the document was taken by the maid or by the valet "

"I understand you to say that your room is on the second floor, that there is no entrance from without, and

that from within no one could go up unobserved. It must, then, be somebody in the house who has taken it.

To whom would the thief take it? To one of several international spies and secret agents, whose names are

tolerably familiar to me. There are three who may be said to be the heads of their profession. I will begin my

research by going round and finding if each of them is at his post. If one is missing especially if he has

disappeared since last night we will have some indication as to where the document has gone."

"Why should he be missing?" asked the European Secretary. "He would take the letter to an Embassy in

"I fancy not. These agents work independently, and their relations with the Embassies are often strained."

"I believe you are right, Mr. Holmes. He would take so valuable a prize to headquarters with his own hands.

I think that your course of action is an excellent one. Meanwhile, Hope, we cannot neglect all our other duties

on account of this one misfortune. Should there be any fresh developments during the day we shall

communicate with you, and you will no doubt let us know the results of your own inquiries."

When our illustrious visitors had departed Holmes lit his pipe in silence, and sat for some time lost in the

deepest thought. I had opened the morning paper and was immersed in a sensational crime which had

occurred in London the night before, when my friend gave an exclamation, sprang to his feet, and laid his

"Yes," said he, "there is no better way of approaching it. The situation is desperate, but not hopeless. Even

now, if we could be sure which of them has taken it, it is just possible that it has not yet passed out of his

hands. After all, it is a question of money with these fellows, and I have the British Treasury behind me. If it's

on the market I'll buy it if it means another penny on the incometax. It is conceivable that the fellow

might hold it back to see what bids come from this side before he tries his luck on the other. There are only

those three capable of playing so bold a game; there are Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas. I will

My friend has so often astonished me in the course of our adventures that it was with a sense of exultation

that I realized how completely I had astonished him. He stared in amazement, and then snatched the paper

from my hands. This was the paragraph which I had been engaged in reading when he rose from his chair:

"A crime of mysterious character was committed last night at 16, Godolphin Street, one of the oldfashioned

and secluded rows of eighteenthcentury houses which lie between the river and the Abbey, almost in the

shadow of the great Tower of the Houses of Parliament. This small but select mansion has been inhabited for

some years by Mr. Eduardo Lucas, well known in society circles both on account of his charming personality

and because he has the welldeserved reputation of being one of the best amateur tenors in the country. Mr.

Lucas is an unmarried man, thirtyfour years of age, and his establishment consists of Mrs. Pringle, an

elderly housekeeper, and of Mitton, his valet. The former retires early and sleeps at the top of the house. The

valet was out for the evening, visiting a friend at Hammersmith. From ten o'clock onwards Mr. Lucas had the

house to himself. What occurred during that time has not yet transpired, but at a quarter to twelve

Policeconstable Barrett, passing along Godolphin Street, observed that the door of No. 16 was ajar. He

knocked, but received no answer. Perceiving a light in the front room he advanced into the passage and again

knocked, but without reply. He then pushed open the door and entered. The room was in a state of wild

disorder, the furniture being all swept to one side, and one chair lying on its back in the centre. Beside this

chair, and still grasping one of its legs, lay the unfortunate tenant of the house. He had been stabbed to the

heart and must have died instantly. The knife with which the crime had been committed was a curved Indian

dagger, plucked down from a trophy of Oriental arms which adorned one of the walls. Robbery does not

appear to have been the motive of the crime, for there had been no attempt to remove the valuable contents of

the room. Mr. Eduardo Lucas was so well known and popular that his violent and mysterious fate will arouse

"A coincidence! Here is one of the three men whom we had named as possible actors in this drama, and he

meets a violent death during the very hours when we know that that drama was being enacted. The odds are

enormous against its being coincidence. No figures could express them. No, my dear Watson, the two events

"Not at all. They know all they see at Godolphin Street. They know and shall know nothing of

Whitehall Terrace. Only WE know of both events, and can trace the relation between them. There is one

obvious point which would, in any case, have turned my suspicions against Lucas. Godolphin Street,

Westminster, is only a few minutes' walk from Whitehall Terrace. The other secret agents whom I have

named live in the extreme Westend. It was easier, therefore, for Lucas than for the others to establish a

connection or receive a message from the European Secretary's household a small thing, and yet where

events are compressed into a few hours it may prove essential. Halloa! what have we here?"

Mrs. Hudson had appeared with a lady's card upon her salver. Holmes glanced at it, raised his eyebrows, and

A moment later our modest apartment, already so distinguished that morning, was further honoured by the

entrance of the most lovely woman in London. I had often heard of the beauty of the youngest daughter of the

Duke of Belminster, but no description of it, and no contemplation of colourless photographs, had prepared

me for the subtle, delicate charm and the beautiful colouring of that exquisite head. And yet as we saw it that

autumn morning, it was not its beauty which would be the first thing to impress the observer. The cheek was

lovely, but it was paled with emotion; the eyes were bright, but it was the brightness of fever; the sensitive

mouth was tight and drawn in an effort after selfcommand. Terror not beauty was what sprang first to

"Mr. Holmes, I implore you not to tell him that I came here." Holmes bowed coldly, and motioned the lady to

"Your ladyship places me in a very delicate position. I beg that you will sit down and tell me what you desire;

She swept across the room and seated herself with her back to the window. It was a queenly presence tall,

"Mr. Holmes," she said, and her whitegloved hands clasped and unclasped as she spoke "I will speak

frankly to you in the hope that it may induce you to speak frankly in return. There is complete confidence

between my husband and me on all matters save one. That one is politics. On this his lips are sealed. He tells

me nothing. Now, I am aware that there was a most deplorable occurrence in our house last night. I know that

a paper has disappeared. But because the matter is political my husband refuses to take me into his complete

confidence. Now it is essential essential, I say that I should thoroughly understand it. You are the only

other person, save only these politicians, who knows the true facts. I beg you, then, Mr. Holmes, to tell me

exactly what has happened and what it will lead to. Tell me all, Mr. Holmes. Let no regard for your client's

interests keep you silent, for I assure you that his interests, if he would only see it, would be best served by

"You must see that this is so, madam. If your husband thinks fit to keep you in the dark over this matter, is it

for me, who has only learned the true facts under the pledge of professional secrecy, to tell what he has

"I have asked him. I come to you as a last resource. But without your telling me anything definite, Mr.

"Well, madam, unless it is set right it may certainly have a very unfortunate effect."

"One more question, Mr. Holmes. From an expression which my husband dropped in the first shock of this

disaster I understood that terrible public consequences might arise from the loss of this document."

"Then I will take up no more of your time. I cannot blame you, Mr. Holmes, for having refused to speak more

freely, and you on your side will not, I am sure, think the worse of me because I desire, even against his will,

to share my husband's anxieties. Once more I beg that you will say nothing of my visit." She looked back at

us from the door, and I had a last impression of that beautiful haunted face, the startled eyes, and the drawn

"Now, Watson, the fair sex is your department," said Holmes, with a smile, when the dwindling froufrou of

skirts had ended in the slam of the front door. "What was the fair lady's game? What did she really want?"

"Hum! Think of her appearance, Watson her manner, her suppressed excitement, her restlessness, her

tenacity in asking questions. Remember that she comes of a caste who do not lightly show emotion."

"Remember also the curious earnestness with which she assured us that it was best for her husband that she

should know all. What did she mean by that? And you must have observed, Watson, how she manoeuvred to

"And yet the motives of women are so inscrutable. You remember the woman at Margate whom I suspected

for the same reason. No powder on her nose that proved to be the correct solution. How can you build on

such a quicksand? Their most trivial action may mean volumes, or their most extraordinary conduct may

"Yes; I will wile away the morning at Godolphin Street with our friends of the regular establishment. With

Eduardo Lucas lies the solution of our problem, though I must admit that I have not an inkling as to what

form it may take. It is a capital mistake to theorize in advance of the facts. Do you stay on guard, my good

All that day and the next and the next Holmes was in a mood which his friends would call taciturn, and others

morose. He ran out and ran in, smoked incessantly, played snatches on his violin, sank into reveries,

devoured sandwiches at irregular hours, and hardly answered the casual questions which I put to him. It was

evident to me that things were not going well with him or his quest. He would say nothing of the case, and it

was from the papers that I learned the particulars of the inquest, and the arrest with the subsequent release of

John Mitton, the valet of the deceased. The coroner's jury brought in the obvious "Wilful Murder," but the

parties remained as unknown as ever. No motive was suggested. The room was full of articles of value, but

none had been taken. The dead man's papers had not been tampered with. They were carefully examined, and

showed that he was a keen student of international politics, an indefatigable gossip, a remarkable linguist, and

an untiring letterwriter. He had been on intimate terms with the leading politicians of several countries. But

nothing sensational was discovered among the documents which filled his drawers. As to his relations with

women, they appeared to have been promiscuous but superficial. He had many acquaintances among them,

but few friends, and no one whom he loved. His habits were regular, his conduct inoffensive. His death was

As to the arrest of John Mitton, the valet, it was a counsel of despair as an alternative to absolute inaction.

But no case could be sustained against him. He had visited friends in Hammersmith that night. The ALIBI

was complete. It is true that he started home at an hour which should have brought him to Westminster before

the time when the crime was discovered, but his own explanation that he had walked part of the way seemed

probable enough in view of the fineness of the night. He had actually arrived at twelve o'clock, and appeared

to be overwhelmed by the unexpected tragedy. He had always been on good terms with his master. Several of

the dead man's possessions notably a small case of razors had been found in the valet's boxes, but he

explained that they had been presents from the deceased, and the housekeeper was able to corroborate the

story. Mitton had been in Lucas's employment for three years. It was noticeable that Lucas did not take

Mitton on the Continent with him. Sometimes he visited Paris for three months on end, but Mitton was left in

charge of the Godolphin Street house. As to the housekeeper, she had heard nothing on the night of the crime.

So for three mornings the mystery remained, so far as I could follow it in the papers. If Holmes knew more he

kept his own counsel, but, as he told me that Inspector Lestrade had taken him into his confidence in the case,

I knew that he was in close touch with every development. Upon the fourth day there appeared a long

"A discovery has just been made by the Parisian police," said the DAILY TELEGRAPH, "which raises the

veil which hung round the tragic fate of Mr. Eduardo Lucas, who met his death by violence last Monday

night at Godolphin Street, Westminster. Our readers will remember that the deceased gentleman was found

stabbed in his room, and that some suspicion attached to his valet, but that the case broke down on an ALIBI.

Yesterday a lady, who has been known as Mme. Henri Fournaye, occupying a small villa in the Rue

Austerlitz, was reported to the authorities by her servants as being insane. An examination showed that she

had indeed developed mania of a dangerous and permanent form. On inquiry the police have discovered that

Mme. Henri Fournaye only returned from a journey to London on Tuesday last, and there is evidence to

connect her with the crime at Westminster. A comparison of photographs has proved conclusively that M.

Henri Fournaye and Eduardo Lucas were really one and the same person, and that the deceased had for some

reason lived a double life in London and Paris. Mme. Fournaye, who is of Creole origin, is of an extremely

excitable nature, and has suffered in the past from attacks of jealousy which have amounted to frenzy. It is

conjectured that it was in one of these that she committed the terrible crime which has caused such a

sensation in London. Her movements upon the Monday night have not yet been traced, but it is undoubted

that a woman answering to her description attracted much attention at Charing Cross Station on Tuesday

morning by the wildness of her appearance and the violence of her gestures. It is probable, therefore, that the

crime was either committed when insane, or that its immediate effect was to drive the unhappy woman out of

her mind. At present she is unable to give any coherent account of the past, and the doctors hold out no hopes

of the reestablishment of her reason. There is evidence that a woman, who might have been Mme.

Fournaye, was seen for some hours on Monday night watching the house in Godolphin Street."

"What do you think of that, Holmes?" I had read the account aloud to him, while he finished his breakfast.

"My dear Watson," said he, as he rose from the table and paced up and down the room, "you are most

longsuffering, but if I have told you nothing in the last three days it is because there is nothing to tell. Even

"The man's death is a mere incident a trivial episode in comparison with our real task, which is to trace

this document and save a European catastrophe. Only one important thing has happened in the last three days,

and that is that nothing has happened. I get reports almost hourly from the Government, and it is certain that

nowhere in Europe is there any sign of trouble. Now, if this letter were loose no, it CAN'T be loose but

if it isn't loose, where can it be? Who has it? Why is it held back? That's the question that beats in my brain

like a hammer. Was it, indeed, a coincidence that Lucas should meet his death on the night when the letter

disappeared? Did the letter ever reach him? If so, why is it not among his papers? Did this mad wife of his

carry it off with her? If so, is it in her house in Paris? How could I search for it without the French police

having their suspicions aroused? It is a case, my dear Watson, where the law is as dangerous to us as the

criminals are. Every man's hand is against us, and yet the interests at stake are colossal. Should I bring it to a

successful conclusion it will certainly represent the crowning glory of my career. Ah, here is my latest from

the front!" He glanced hurriedly at the note which had been handed in. "Halloa! Lestrade seems to have

observed something of interest. Put on your hat, Watson, and we will stroll down together to Westminster."

It was my first visit to the scene of the crime a high, dingy, narrowchested house, prim, formal, and

solid, like the century which gave it birth. Lestrade's bulldog features gazed out at us from the front window,

and he greeted us warmly when a big constable had opened the door and let us in. The room into which we

were shown was that in which the crime had been committed, but no trace of it now remained, save an ugly,

irregular stain upon the carpet. This carpet was a small square drugget in the centre of the room, surrounded

by a broad expanse of beautiful, oldfashioned woodflooring in square blocks highly polished. Over the

fireplace was a magnificent trophy of weapons, one of which had been used on that tragic night. In the

window was a sumptuous writingdesk, and every detail of the apartment, the pictures, the rugs, and the

hangings, all pointed to a taste which was luxurious to the verge of effeminacy.

"Our French friends seem to have touched the spot this time. No doubt it's just as they say. She knocked at

the door surprise visit, I guess, for he kept his life in watertight compartments. He let her in couldn't

keep her in the street. She told him how she had traced him, reproached him, one thing led to another, and

then with that dagger so handy the end soon came. It wasn't all done in an instant, though, for these chairs

were all swept over yonder, and he had one in his hand as if he had tried to hold her off with it. We've got it

"Ah, yes, that's another matter a mere trifle, but the sort of thing you take an interest in queer, you

know, and what you might call freakish. It has nothing to do with the main fact can't have, on the face of

"Well, you know, after a crime of this sort we are very careful to keep things in their position. Nothing has

been moved. Officer in charge here day and night. This morning, as the man was buried and the investigation

over so far as this room is concerned we thought we could tidy up a bit. This carpet. You see, it is not

"Well, I'm sure you would never guess in a hundred years what we did find. You see that stain on the carpet?

"Well, you will be surprised to hear that there is no stain on the white woodwork to correspond."

He took the corner of the carpet in his hand and, turning it over, he showed that it was indeed as he said.

"Now I'll show you the explanation. There IS a second stain, but it does not correspond with the other. See

for yourself." As he spoke he turned over another portion of the carpet, and there, sure enough, was a great

crimson spill upon the square white facing of the oldfashioned floor. "What do you make of that, Mr.

"Why, it is simple enough. The two stains did correspond, but the carpet has been turned round. As it was

The official police don't need you, Mr. Holmes, to tell them that the carpet must have been turned round.

That's clear enough, for the stains lie above each other if you lay it over this way. But what I want to

I could see from Holmes's rigid face that he was vibrating with inward excitement.

"Look here, Lestrade," said he, "has that constable in the passage been in charge of the place all the time?"

"Well, take my advice. Examine him carefully. Don't do it before us. We'll wait here. You take him into the

back room. You'll be more likely to get a confession out of him alone. Ask him how he dared to admit people

and leave them alone in this room. Don't ask him if he has done it. Take it for granted. Tell him you KNOW

someone has been here. Press him. Tell him that a full confession is his only chance of forgiveness. Do

"By George, if he knows I'll have it out of him!" cried Lestrade. He darted into the hall, and a few moments

"Now, Watson, now!" cried Holmes, with frenzied eagerness. All the demoniacal force of the man masked

behind that listless manner burst out in a paroxysm of energy. He tore the drugget from the floor, and in an

instant was down on his hands and knees clawing at each of the squares of wood beneath it. One turned

sideways as he dug his nails into the edge of it. It hinged back like the lid of a box. A small black cavity

opened beneath it. Holmes plunged his eager hand into it, and drew it out with a bitter snarl of anger and

"Quick, Watson, quick! Get it back again!" The wooden lid was replaced, and the drugget had only just been

drawn straight when Lestrade's voice was heard in the passage. He found Holmes leaning languidly against

the mantelpiece, resigned and patient, endeavouring to conceal his irrepressible yawns.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Holmes. I can see that you are bored to death with the whole affair. Well, he

has confessed, all right. Come in here, MacPherson. Let these gentlemen hear of your most inexcusable

"I meant no harm, sir, I'm sure. The young woman came to the door last evening mistook the house, she

"She wanted to see where the crime was done had read about it in the papers, she said. She was a very

respectable, wellspoken young woman, sir, and I saw no harm in letting her have a peep. When she saw that

mark on the carpet, down she dropped on the floor, and lay as if she were dead. I ran to the back and got

some water, but I could not bring her to. Then I went round the corner to the Ivy Plant for some brandy, and

by the time I had brought it back the young woman had recovered and was off ashamed of herself, I dare

"Well, sir, it was a bit rumpled, certainly, when I came back. You see, she fell on it, and it lies on a polished

"It's a lesson to you that you can't deceive me, Constable MacPherson," said Lestrade, with dignity. "No

doubt you thought that your breach of duty could never be discovered, and yet a mere glance at that drugget

was enough to convince me that someone had been admitted to the room. It's lucky for you, my man, that

nothing is missing, or you would find yourself in Queer Street. I'm sorry to have called you down over such a

petty business, Mr. Holmes, but I thought the point of the second stain not corresponding with the first would

"Certainly, it was most interesting. Has this woman only been here once, constable?"

"Don't know the name, sir. Was answering an advertisement about typewriting, and came to the wrong

"Yes, sir; she was a wellgrown young woman. I suppose you might say she was handsome. Perhaps some

would say she was very handsome. `Oh, officer, do let me have a peep!' says she. She had pretty, coaxing

ways, as you might say, and I thought there was no harm in letting her just put her head through the door."

"It was just growing dusk at the time. They were lighting the lamps as I came back with the brandy."

"Very good," said Holmes. "Come, Watson, I think that we have more important work elsewhere."

As we left the house Lestrade remained in the front room, while the repentant constable opened the door to

let us out. Holmes turned on the step and held up something in his hand. The constable stared intently.

"Good Lord, sir!" he cried, with amazement on his face. Holmes put his finger on his lips, replaced his hand

in his breastpocket, and burst out laughing as we turned down the street. "Excellent!" said he. "Come, friend

Watson, the curtain rings up for the last act. You will be relieved to hear that there will be no war, that the

Right Honourable Trelawney Hope will suffer no setback in his brilliant career, that the indiscreet

Sovereign will receive no punishment for his indiscretion, that the Prime Minister will have no European

complication to deal with, and that with a little tact and management upon our part nobody will be a penny

"Hardly that, Watson. There are some points which are as dark as ever. But we have so much that it will be

our own fault if we cannot get the rest. We will go straight to Whitehall Terrace and bring the matter to a

When we arrived at the residence of the European Secretary it was for Lady Hilda Trelawney Hope that

"Mr. Holmes!" said the lady, and her face was pink with her indignation, "this is surely most unfair and

ungenerous upon your part. I desired, as I have explained, to keep my visit to you a secret, lest my husband

should think that I was intruding into his affairs. And yet you compromise me by coming here and so

"Unfortunately, madam, I had no possible alternative. I have been commissioned to recover this immensely

important paper. I must therefore ask you, madam, to be kind enough to place it in my hands."

The lady sprang to her feet, with the colour all dashed in an instant from her beautiful face. Her eyes glazed

she tottered I thought that she would faint. Then with a grand effort she rallied from the shock, and a

supreme astonishment and indignation chased every other expression from her features.

"Do not ring, Lady Hilda. If you do, then all my earnest efforts to avoid a scandal will be frustrated. Give up

the letter and all will be set right. If you will work with me I can arrange everything. If you work against me I

She stood grandly defiant, a queenly figure, her eyes fixed upon his as if she would read his very soul. Her

"You are trying to frighten me. It is not a very manly thing, Mr. Holmes, to come here and browbeat a

"Pray sit down, madam. You will hurt yourself there if you fall. I will not speak until you sit down. Thank

"One is enough, Lady Hilda. I know of your visit to Eduardo Lucas, of your giving him this document, of

your ingenious return to the room last night, and of the manner in which you took the letter from the

He drew a small piece of cardboard from his pocket. It was the face of a woman cut out of a portrait.

"I have carried this because I thought it might be useful," said he. "The policeman has recognised it."

"Come, Lady Hilda. You have the letter. The matter may still be adjusted. I have no desire to bring trouble to

you. My duty ends when I have returned the lost letter to your husband. Take my advice and be frank with

"I am sorry for you, Lady Hilda. I have done my best for you; I can see that it is all in vain."

The butler had hardly closed the door behind him when Lady Hilda was down on her knees at Holmes's feet,

"Oh, spare me, Mr. Holmes! Spare me!" she pleaded, in a frenzy of supplication. "For Heaven's sake, don't

tell him! I love him so! I would not bring one shadow on his life, and this I know would break his noble

Holmes raised the lady. "I am thankful, madam, that you have come to your senses even at this last moment!

She darted across to a writingdesk, unlocked it, and drew out a long blue envelope.

"How can we return it?" Holmes muttered. "Quick, quick, we must think of some way! Where is the

"How did you open it before? You have a duplicate key? Yes, of course you have. Open it!"

From out of her bosom Lady Hilda had drawn a small key. The box flew open. It was stuffed with papers.

Holmes thrust the blue envelope deep down into the heart of them, between the leaves of some other

"Now we are ready for him," said Holmes; "we have still ten minutes. I am going far to screen you, Lady

Hilda. In return you will spend the time in telling me frankly the real meaning of this extraordinary affair."

"Mr. Holmes, I will tell you everything," cried the lady. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, I would cut off my right hand

before I gave him a moment of sorrow! There is no woman in all London who loves her husband as I do, and

yet if he knew how I have acted how I have been compelled to act he would never forgive me. For his

own honour stands so high that he could not forget or pardon a lapse in another. Help me, Mr. Holmes! My

"It was a letter of mine, Mr. Holmes, an indiscreet letter written before my marriage a foolish letter, a

letter of an impulsive, loving girl. I meant no harm, and yet he would have thought it criminal. Had he read

that letter his confidence would have been for ever destroyed. It is years since I wrote it. I had thought that

the whole matter was forgotten. Then at last I heard from this man, Lucas, that it had passed into his hands,

and that he would lay it before my husband. I implored his mercy. He said that he would return my letter if I

would bring him a certain document which he described in my husband's despatchbox. He had some spy in

the office who had told him of its existence. He assured me that no harm could come to my husband. Put

"I could not, Mr. Holmes, I could not! On the one side seemed certain ruin; on the other, terrible as it seemed

to take my husband's paper, still in a matter of politics I could not understand the consequences, while in a

matter of love and trust they were only too clear to me. I did it, Mr. Holmes! I took an impression of his key;

this man Lucas furnished a duplicate. I opened his despatchbox, took the paper, and conveyed it to

"I tapped at the door as agreed. Lucas opened it. I followed him into his room, leaving the hall door ajar

behind me, for I feared to be alone with the man. I remember that there was a woman outside as I entered.

Our business was soon done. He had my letter on his desk; I handed him the document. He gave me the

letter. At this instant there was a sound at the door. There were steps in the passage. Lucas quickly turned

back the drugget, thrust the document into some hidingplace there, and covered it over.

"What happened after that is like some fearful dream. I have a vision of a dark, frantic face, of a woman's

voice, which screamed in French, `My waiting is not in vain. At last, at last I have found you with her!' There

was a savage struggle. I saw him with a chair in his hand, a knife gleamed in hers. I rushed from the horrible

scene, ran from the house, and only next morning in the paper did I learn the dreadful result. That night I was

"It was the next morning that I realized that I had only exchanged one trouble for another. My husband's

anguish at the loss of his paper went to my heart. I could hardly prevent myself from there and then kneeling

down at his feet and telling him what I had done. But that again would mean a confession of the past. I came

to you that morning in order to understand the full enormity of my offence. From the instant that I grasped it

my whole mind was turned to the one thought of getting back my husband's paper. It must still be where

Lucas had placed it, for it was concealed before this dreadful woman entered the room. If it had not been for

her coming, I should not have known where his hidingplace was. How was I to get into the room? For two

days I watched the place, but the door was never left open. Last night I made a last attempt. What I did and

how I succeeded, you have already learned. I brought the paper back with me, and thought of destroying it

since I could see no way of returning it, without confessing my guilt to my husband. Heavens, I hear his step

"Ah, thank heaven!" His face became radiant. "The Prime Minister is lunching with me. May he share your

hopes? He has nerves of steel, and yet I know that he has hardly slept since this terrible event. Jacobs, will

you ask the Prime Minister to come up? As to you, dear, I fear that this is a matter of politics. We will join

The Prime Minister's manner was subdued, but I could see by the gleam of his eyes and the twitchings of his

"Purely negative as yet," my friend answered. "I have inquired at every point where it might be, and I am sure

"But that is not enough, Mr. Holmes. We cannot live for ever on such a volcano. We must have something

"I am in hopes of getting it. That is why I am here. The more I think of the matter the more convinced I am

"Mr. Holmes, this joking is very illtimed. You have my assurance that it left the box."

"But I am not convinced of it; I have known such things to happen. I presume there are other papers there.

"Surely it is easily decided, Hope," said the Premier. "Let us have the despatchbox brought in."

"Jacobs, bring down my despatchbox. This is a farcical waste of time, but still, if nothing else will satisfy

you, it shall be done. Thank you, Jacobs; put it here. I have always had the key on my watchchain. Here are

the papers, you see. Letter from Lord Merrow, report from Sir Charles Hardy, memorandum from Belgrade,

note on the RussoGerman grain taxes, letter from Madrid, note from Lord Flowers good heavens! what

"Thank you! Thank you! What a weight from my heart. But this is inconceivable impossible. Mr. Holmes,

"I cannot believe my eyes!" He ran wildly to the door. "Where is my wife? I must tell her that all is well.

"Come, sir," said he. "There is more in this than meets the eye. How came the letter back in the box?"

"We also have our diplomatic secrets," said he, and picking up his hat he turned to the door.