Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes THE SPECKLED BAND

ON GLANCING over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which I haveduring the last eight years studied the methods of my friend SherlockHolmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large number merely strange,but none commonplace; for, working as he did rather for the love of hisart than for the acquirement of wealth, he refused to associate himselfwith any investigation which did not tend towards the unusual, and eventhe fantastic. Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall any whichpresented more singular features than that which was associated with thewell-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran. The events in[258] question occurred in the early days of my association with Holmes,when we were sharing rooms as bachelors in Baker Street. It is possiblethat I might have placed them upon record before, but a promise ofsecrecy was made at the time, from which I have only been freed duringthe last month by the untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge wasgiven. It is perhaps as well that the facts should now come to light, for Ihave reasons to know that there are widespread rumours as to the death ofDr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the matter even more terriblethan the truth.It was early in April in the year '83 that I woke one morning to findSherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of my bed. He was alate riser, as a rule, and as the clock on the mantelpiece showed me that itwas only a quarter-past seven, I blinked up at him in some surprise, andperhaps just a little resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits."Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said he, "but it's the commonlot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, she retorted uponme, and I on you.""What is it, then-a fire?""No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in a considerablestate of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. She is waiting now in thesitting-room. Now, when young ladies wander about the metropolis at thishour of the morning, and knock sleepy people up out of their beds, Ipresume that it is something very pressing which they have tocommunicate. Should it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I amsure, wish to follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I shouldcall you and give you the chance.""My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything."I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in his professionalinvestigations, and in admiring the rapid deductions, as swift as intuitions,and yet always founded on a logical basis, with which he unravelled theproblems which were submitted to him. I rapidly threw on my clothes andwas ready in a few minutes to accompany my friend down to the sitting-room. A lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had been sitting inthe window, rose as we entered."Good-morning, madam," said Holmes cheerily. "My name is SherlockHolmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson, beforewhom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I am glad to see thatMrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light the fire. Pray draw up to it,and I shall order you a cup of hot coffee, for I observe that you areshivering.""It is not cold which makes me shiver," said the woman in a low voice,changing her seat as requested."What, then?""It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She raised her veil as she spoke,and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiable state of agitation, herface all drawn and gray, with restless, frightened eyes, like those of somehunted animal. Her features and figure were those of a woman of thirty,but her hair was shot with premature gray, and her expression was wearyand haggard. Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one of his quick, allcomprehensive glances."You must not fear," said he soothingly, bending forward and pattingher forearm. "We shall soon set matters right, I have no doubt. You havecome in by train this morning, I see.""You know me, then?""No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palm of yourleft [259] glove. You must have started early, and yet you had a good drivein a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reached the station."The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at mycompanion."There is no mystery, my dear madam," said he, smiling. "The left armof your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than seven places. Themarks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save a dog-cart whichthrows up mud in that way, and then only when you sit on the left-hand side of the driver.""Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct," said she. "Istarted from home before six, reached Leatherhead at twenty past, andcame in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, I can stand this strain nolonger; I shall go mad if it continues. I have no one to turn to-none, saveonly one, who cares for me, and he, poor fellow, can be of little aid. Ihave heard of you, Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs. Farintosh,whom you helped in the hour of her sore need. It was from her that I hadyour address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you could help me, too, and atleast throw a little light through the dense darkness which surrounds me?At present it is out of my power to reward you for your services, but in amonth or six weeks I shall be married, with the control of my ownincome, and then at least you shall not find me ungrateful."Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a small casebook, which he consulted."Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the case; it was concerned withan opal tiara. I think it was before your time, Watson. I can only say,madam, that I shall be happy to devote the same care to your case as I didto that of your friend. As to reward, my profession is its own reward; butyou are at liberty to defray whatever expenses I may be put to, at the timewhich suits you best. And now I beg that you will lay before useverything that may help us in forming an opinion upon the matter.""Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror of my situation lies in thefact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicions depend so entirelyupon small points, which might seem trivial to another, that even he towhom of all others I have a right to look for help and advice looks uponall that I tell him about it as the fancies of a nervous woman. He does notsay so, but I can read it from his soothing answers and averted eyes. But Ihave heard, Mr. Holmes, that you can see deeply into the manifoldwickedness of the human heart. You may advise me how to walk amidthe dangers which encompass me.""I am all attention, madam.""My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, who isthe last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families in England, theRoylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border of Surrey."Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he."The family was at one time among the richest in England, and theestates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north, andHampshire in the west. In the last century, however, four successive heirswere of a dissolute and wasteful disposition, and the family ruin waseventually completed by a gambler in the days of the Regency. Nothingwas left save a few acres of ground, and the two-hundred-year-old house,which is itself crushed under a heavy mortgage. The last squire draggedout his existence there, living the horrible life of an aristocratic pauper;but his only son, my stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself to thenew conditions, obtained an advance from a relative, which enabled himto take a [260] medical degree and went out to Calcutta, where, by hisprofessional skill and his force of character, he established a largepractice. In a fit of anger, however, caused by some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house, he beat his native butler to death andnarrowly escaped a capital sentence. As it was, he suffered a long term ofimprisonment and afterwards returned to England a morose anddisappointed man."When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner,the young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery. Mysister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the timeof my mother's re-marriage. She had a considerable sum of money-notless than £1000 a year -and this she bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirelywhile we resided with him, with a provision that a certain annual sumshould be allowed to each of us in the event of our marriage. Shortly afterour return to England my mother died -she was killed eight years ago in arailway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned his attempts toestablish himself in practice in London and took us to live with him in theold ancestral house at Stoke Moran. The money which my mother had leftwas enough for all our wants, and there seemed to be no obstacle to ourhappiness."But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time. Insteadof making friends and exchanging visits with our neighbours, who had atfirst been overjoyed to see a Roylott of Stoke Moran back in the oldfamily seat, he shut himself up in his house and seldom came out save toindulge in ferocious quarrels with whoever might cross his path. Violenceof temper approaching to mania has been hereditary in the men of thefamily, and in my stepfather's case it had, I believe, been intensified byhis long residence in the tropics. A series of disgraceful brawls tookplace, two of which ended in the police-court, until at last he became theterror of the village, and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is aman of immense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger."Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into a stream,and it was only by paying over all the money which I could gathertogether that I was able to avert another public exposure. He had nofriends at all save the wandering gypsies, and he would give thesevagabonds leave to encamp upon the few acres of bramble-covered landwhich represent the family estate, and would accept in return thehospitality of their tents, wandering away with them sometimes for weekson end. He has a passion also for Indian animals, which are sent over tohim by a correspondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah and ababoon, which wander freely over his grounds and are feared by thevillagers almost as much as their master."You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I hadno great pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay with us, and for along time we did all the work of the house. She was but thirty at the timeof her death, and yet her hair had already begun to whiten, even as minehas.""Your sister is dead, then?""She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish to speakto you. You can understand that, living the life which I have described,we were little likely to see anyone of our own age and position. We had,however, an aunt, my mother's maiden sister, Miss Honoria Westphail,who lives near Harrow, and we were occasionally allowed to pay shortvisits at this lady's house. Julia went there at Christmas two years ago,and met there a half-pay major of marines, to whom she became engaged.My stepfather learned of the engagement when my sister [261] returnedand offered no objection to the marriage; but within a fortnight of the day which had been fixed for the wedding, the terrible event occurred whichhas deprived me of my only companion."Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyesclosed and his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened his lids now andglanced across at his visitor."Pray be precise as to details," said he."It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadful time isseared into my memory. The manor-house is, as I have already said, veryold, and only one wing is now inhabited. The bedrooms in this wing areon the ground floor, the sitting-rooms being in the central block of thebuildings. Of these bedrooms the first is Dr. Roylott's, the second mysister's, and the third my own. There is no communication between them,but they all open out into the same corridor. Do I make myself plain?""Perfectly so.""The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. That fatalnight Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though we knew that he hadnot retired to rest, for my sister was troubled by the smell of the strongIndian cigars which it was his custom to smoke. She left her room,therefore, and came into mine, where she sat for some time, chattingabout her approaching wedding. At eleven o'clock she rose to leave me,but she paused at the door and looked back." 'Tell me, Helen,' said she, 'have you ever heard anyone whistle in thedead of the night?'" 'Never,' said I." 'I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, in yoursleep?'" 'Certainly not. But why?'" 'Because during the last few nights I have always, about three in themorning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper, and it hasawakened me. I cannot tell where it came from-perhaps from the nextroom, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I would just ask you whetheryou had heard it.'" 'No, I have not. It must be those wretched gypsies in the plantation.'" 'Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that you did nothear it also.'" 'Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.'" 'Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.' She smiled back atme, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard her key turn in thelock.""Indeed," said Holmes. "Was it your custom always to lock yourselvesin at night?""Always.""And why?""I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetah and ababoon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors were locked.""Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement.""I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impending misfortuneimpressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect, were twins, and youknow how subtle are the links which bind two souls which are so closelyallied. It was a wild night. The wind was howling outside, and the rainwas beating and splashing against the windows. Suddenly, amid all thehubbub of the gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified woman.I knew that it was my sister's voice. I sprang from my bed, wrapped ashawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I [262] opened my door Iseemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and a fewmoments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen. As I randown the passage, my sister's door was unlocked, and revolved slowlyupon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowing what was aboutto issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister appearat the opening, her face blanched with terror, her hands groping for help,her whole figure swaying to and fro like that of a drunkard. I ran to herand threw my arms round her, but at that moment her knees seemed togive way and she fell to the ground. She writhed as one who is in terriblepain, and her limbs were dreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that shehad not recognized me, but as I bent over her she suddenly shrieked out ina voice which I shall never forget, 'Oh, my God! Helen! It was the band!The speckled band!' There was something else which she would fain havesaid, and she stabbed with her finger into the air in the direction of thedoctor's room, but a fresh convulsion seized her and choked her words. Irushed out, calling loudly for my stepfather, and I met him hastening fromhis room in his dressing-gown. When he reached my sister's side she wasunconscious, and though he poured brandy down her throat and sent formedical aid from the village, all efforts were in vain, for she slowly sankand died without having recovered her consciousness. Such was thedreadful end of my beloved sister.""One moment," said Holmes; "are you sure about this whistle andmetallic sound? Could you swear to it?""That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is mystrong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of the gale andthe creaking of an old house, I may possibly have been deceived.""Was your sister dressed?""No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found thecharred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box.""Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when thealarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did the coronercome to?""He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott's conduct hadlong been notorious in the county, but he was unable to find anysatisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that the door had beenfastened upon the inner side, and the windows were blocked by oldfashioned shutters with broad iron bars, which were secured every night.The walls were carefully sounded, and were shown to be quite solid allround, and the flooring was also thoroughly examined, with the sameresult. The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four large staples. It iscertain, therefore, that my sister was quite alone when she met her end.Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon her.""How about poison?""The doctors examined her for it, but without success.""What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?""It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, thoughwhat it was that frightened her I cannot imagine." "Were there gypsies in the plantation at the time?""Yes, there are nearly always some there.""Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band-a speckledband?""Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of delirium,sometimes that it may have referred to some band of people, perhaps tothese very gypsies in the plantation. I do not know whether the spottedhandkerchiefs which [263] so many of them wear over their heads mighthave suggested the strange adjective which she used."Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied."These are very deep waters," said he; "pray go on with your narrative.""Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until latelylonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I haveknown for many years, has done me the honour to ask my hand inmarriage. His name is Armitage-Percy Armitage-the second son of Mr.Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My stepfather has offered noopposition to the match, and we are to be married in the course of thespring. Two days ago some repairs were started in the west wing of thebuilding, and my bedroom wall has been pierced, so that I have had tomove into the chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the verybed in which she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when last night,as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I suddenly heard in thesilence of the night the low whistle which had been the herald of her owndeath. I sprang up and lit the lamp, but nothing was to be seen in theroom. I was too shaken to go to bed again, however, so I dressed, and assoon as it was daylight I slipped down, got a dog-cart at the Crown Inn,which is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead, from whence I have comeon this morning with the one object of seeing you and asking youradvice.""You have done wisely," said my friend. "But have you told me all?""Yes, all.""Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your stepfather.""Why, what do you mean?"For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace which fringedthe hand that lay upon our visitor's knee. Five little livid spots, the marksof four fingers and a thumb, were printed upon the white wrist."You have been cruelly used," said Holmes.The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. "He is ahard man," she said, "and perhaps he hardly knows his own strength."There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chin uponhis hands and stared into the crackling fire."This is a very deep business," he said at last. "There are a thousanddetails which I should desire to know before I decide upon our course ofaction. Yet we have not a moment to lose. If we were to come to StokeMoran to-day, would it be possible for us to see over these rooms withoutthe knowledge of your stepfather?""As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon some mostimportant business. It is probable that he will be away all day, and thatthere would be nothing to disturb you. We have a housekeeper now, but she is old and foolish, and I could easily get her out of the way.""Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson?""By no means.""Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself?""I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I am intown. But I shall return by the twelve o'clock train, so as to be there intime for your coming.""And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself somesmall business matters to attend to. Will you not wait and breakfast?"[264] "No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I haveconfided my trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing you again thisafternoon." She dropped her thick black veil over her face and glidedfrom the room."And what do you think of it all, Watson?" asked Sherlock Holmes,leaning back in his chair."It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business.""Dark enough and sinister enough.""Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and walls aresound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable, then hersister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met her mysteriousend.""What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of the verypeculiar words of the dying woman?""I cannot think.""When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence of aband of gypsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor, the factthat we have every reason to believe that the doctor has an interest inpreventing his stepdaughter's marriage, the dying allusion to a band, and,finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stoner heard a metallic clang, whichmight have been caused by one of those metal bars that secured theshutters falling back into its place, I think that there is good ground tothink that the mystery may be cleared along those lines.""But what, then, did the gypsies do?""I cannot imagine.""I see many objections to any such theory.""And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are going to StokeMoran this day. I want to see whether the objections are fatal, or if theymay be explained away. But what in the name of the devil!"The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact thatour door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man had framedhimself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiar mixture of theprofessional and of the agricultural, having a black top-hat, a long frockcoat, and a pair of high gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand.So tall was he that his hat actually brushed the cross bar of the doorway,and his breadth seemed to span it across from side to side. A large face,seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with the sun, and markedwith every evil passion, was turned from one to the other of us, while hisdeep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high, thin, fleshless nose, gave himsomewhat the resemblance to a fierce old bird of prey."Which of you is Holmes?" asked this apparition."My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me," said my companionquietly."I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran.""Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray take a seat.""I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. I havetraced her. What has she been saying to you?""It is a little cold for the time of the year," said Holmes."What has she been saying to you?" screamed the old man furiously."But I have heard that the crocuses promise well," continued mycompanion imperturbably."Ha! You put me off, do you?" said our new visitor, taking a stepforward and shaking his hunting-crop. "I know you, you scoundrel! I haveheard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler."[265] My friend smiled."Holmes, the busybody!"His smile broadened."Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!"Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation is most entertaining,"said he. "When you go out close the door, for there is a decided draught.""I will go when I have said my say. Don't you dare to meddle with myaffairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her! I am adangerous man to fall foul of! See here." He stepped swiftly forward,seized the poker, and bent it into a curve with his huge brown hands."See that you keep yourself out of my grip," he snarled, and hurling thetwisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of the room. "He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes, laughing. "I am notquite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown him that mygrip was not much more feeble than his own." As he spoke he picked upthe steel poker and, with a sudden effort, straightened it out again."Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the officialdetective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation, however,and I only trust that our little friend will not suffer from her imprudencein allowing this brute to trace her. And now, Watson, we shall orderbreakfast, and afterwards I shall walk down to Doctors' Commons, whereI hope to get some data which may help us in this matter."It was nearly one o'clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from hisexcursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawled over withnotes and figures."I have seen the will of the deceased wife," said he. "To determine itsexact meaning I have been obliged to work out the present prices of theinvestments with which it is concerned. The total income, which at thetime of the wife's death was little short of £1100, is now, through the fallin agricultural prices, not more than £750. Each daughter can claim anincome of £250, in case of marriage. It is evident, therefore, that if bothgirls had married, this beauty would have had a mere pittance, while evenone of them would cripple him to a very serious extent. My morning'swork has not been wasted, since it has proved that he has the verystrongest motives for standing in the way of anything of the sort. Andnow, Watson, this is too serious for dawdling, especially as the old man isaware that we are interesting ourselves in his affairs; so if you are ready,we shall call a cab and drive to Waterloo. I should be very much obligedif you would slip your revolver into your pocket. An Eley's No. 2 is anexcellent argument with gentlemen who can twist steel pokers into knots.That and a tooth-brush are, I think, all that we need."At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train for Leatherhead,where we hired a trap at the station inn and drove for four or five milesthrough the lovely Surrey lanes. It was a perfect day, with a bright sunand a few fleecy clouds in the heavens. The trees and wayside hedgeswere just throwing out their first green shoots, and the air was full of thepleasant smell of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strangecontrast between the sweet promise of the spring and this sinister questupon which we were engaged. My companion sat in the front of the trap,his arms folded, his hat pulled down over his eyes, and his chin sunk [266]upon his breast, buried in the deepest thought. Suddenly, however, hestarted, tapped me on the shoulder, and pointed over the meadows."Look there!" said he.A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope, thickening intoa grove at the highest point. From amid the branches there jutted out thegray gables and high roof-tree of a very old mansion."Stoke Moran?" said he."Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott," remarked thedriver."There is some building going on there," said Holmes; "that is where we are going.""There's the village," said the driver, pointing to a cluster of roofssome distance to the left; "but if you want to get to the house, you'll findit shorter to get over this stile, and so by the foot-path over the fields.There it is, where the lady is walking.""And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner," observed Holmes, shading hiseyes. "Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest."We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its way toLeatherhead."I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed the stile, "that thisfellow should think we had come here as architects, or on some definitebusiness. It may stop his gossip. Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner. You seethat we have been as good as our word."Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with a facewhich spoke her joy. "I have been waiting so eagerly for you," she cried,shaking hands with us warmly. "All has turned out splendidly. Dr.Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikely that he will be back beforeevening.""We have had the pleasure of making the doctor's acquaintance," saidHolmes, and in a few words he sketched out what had occurred. MissStoner turned white to the lips as she listened."Good heavens!" she cried, "he has followed me, then.""So it appears.""He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. Whatwill he say when he returns?""He must guard himself, for he may find that there is someone morecunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourself up from himto-night. If he is violent, we shall take you away to your aunt's at Harrow.Now, we must make the best use of our time, so kindly take us at once tothe rooms which we are to examine."The building was of gray, lichen-blotched stone, with a high centralportion and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab, thrown out oneach side. In one of these wings the windows were broken and blockedwith wooden boards, while the roof was partly caved in, a picture of ruin.The central portion was in little better repair, but the right-hand block wascomparatively modern, and the blinds in the windows, with the bluesmoke curling up from the chimneys, showed that this was where thefamily resided. Some scaffolding had been erected against the end wall,and the stone-work had been broken into, but there were no signs of anyworkmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes walked slowly up and downthe ill-trimmed lawn and examined with deep attention the outsides of thewindows."This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep, thecentre [267] one to your sister's, and the one next to the main building toDr. Roylott's chamber?""Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one.""Pending the alterations, as I understand. By the way, there does notseem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that end wall.""There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me from myroom.""Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrow wing runsthe corridor from which these three rooms open. There are windows in it,of course?""Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to pass through.""As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms wereunapproachable from that side. Now, would you have the kindness to go into your room and bar your shutters?"Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination throughthe open window, endeavoured in every way to force the shutter open, butwithout success. There was no slit through which a knife could be passedto raise the bar. Then with his lens he tested the hinges, but they were ofsolid iron, built firmly into the massive masonry. "Hum!" said he,scratching his chin in some perplexity, "my theory certainly presentssome difficulties. No one could pass these shutters if they were bolted.Well, we shall see if the inside throws any light upon the matter."A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from which thethree bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the third chamber, sowe passed at once to the second, that in which Miss Stoner was nowsleeping, and in which her sister had met with her fate. It was a homelylittle room, with a low ceiling and a gaping fireplace, after the fashion ofold country-houses. A brown chest of drawers stood in one corner, anarrow white-counterpaned bed in another, and a dressing-table on theleft-hand side of the window. These articles, with two small wicker-workchairs, made up all the furniture in the room save for a square of Wiltoncarpet in the centre. The boards round and the panelling of the walls wereof brown, worm-eaten oak, so old and discoloured that it may have datedfrom the original building of the house. Holmes drew one of the chairsinto a corner and sat silent, while his eyes travelled round and round andup and down, taking in every detail of the apartment."Where does that bell communicate with?" he asked at last, pointing toa thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed, the tassel actuallylying upon the pillow."It goes to the housekeeper's room.""It looks newer than the other things?""Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago.""Your sister asked for it, I suppose?""No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what wewanted for ourselves.""Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there. Youwill excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as to this floor."He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in his hand andcrawled swiftly backward and forward, examining minutely the cracksbetween the boards. Then he did the same with the wood-work withwhich the chamber was panelled. Finally he walked over to the bed andspent some time in staring at it and in running his eye up and down thewall. Finally he took the bell-rope in his hand and gave it a brisk tug."Why, it's a dummy," said he.[268] "Won't it ring?""No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting. You cansee now that it is fastened to a hook just above where the little opening forthe ventilator is.""How very absurd! I never noticed that before.""Very strange!" muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. "There are oneor two very singular points about this room. For example, what a fool abuilder must be to open a ventilator into another room, when, with the same trouble, he might have communicated with the outside air!""That is also quite modern," said the lady."Done about the same time as the bell-rope?" remarked Holmes."Yes, there were several little changes carried out about that time.""They seem to have been of a most interesting character-dummy bellropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With your permission, MissStoner, we shall now carry our researches into the inner apartment."Dr. Grimesby Roylott's chamber was larger than that of hisstepdaughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a small woodenshelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an armchair beside thebed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a round table, and a large ironsafe were the principal things which met the eye. Holmes walked slowlyround and examined each and all of them with the keenest interest."What's in here?" he asked, tapping the safe."My stepfather's business papers.""Oh! you have seen inside, then?""Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full of papers.""There isn't a cat in it, for example?""No. What a strange idea!""Well, look at this!" He took up a small saucer of milk which stood onthe top of it."No; we don't keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon.""Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet a saucer ofmilk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I daresay. There is onepoint which I should wish to determine." He squatted down in front of thewooden chair and examined the seat of it with the greatest attention."Thank you. That is quite settled," said he, rising and putting his lens inhis pocket. "Hello! Here is something interesting!"The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung on onecorner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself and tied so asto make a loop of whipcord."What do you make of that, Watson?" "It's a common enough lash. But I don't know why it should be tied.""That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it's a wicked world, andwhen a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worst of all. I thinkthat I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, and with your permission weshall walk out upon the lawn."I had never seen my friend's face so grim or his brow so dark as it waswhen we turned from the scene of this investigation. We had walkedseveral times up and down the lawn, neither Miss Stoner nor myselfliking to break in upon his thoughts before he roused himself from hisreverie.[269] "It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he, "that you shouldabsolutely follow my advice in every respect.""I shall most certainly do so.""The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may dependupon your compliance.""I assure you that I am in your hands.""In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night in yourroom."Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment."Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the village innover there?""Yes, that is the Crown.""Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?""Certainly.""You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a headache,when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear him retire for thenight, you must open the shutters of your window, undo the hasp, putyour lamp there as a signal to us, and then withdraw quietly witheverything which you are likely to want into the room which you used tooccupy. I have no doubt that, in spite of the repairs, you could managethere for one night.""Oh, yes, easily.""The rest you will leave in our hands.""But what will you do?""We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigate thecause of this noise which has disturbed you.""I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind,"said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion's sleeve."Perhaps I have.""Then, for pity's sake, tell me what was the cause of my sister's death.""I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak.""You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and if shedied from some sudden fright.""No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some moretangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you, for if Dr.Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in vain. Good-bye, andbe brave, for if you will do what I have told you you may rest assured thatwe shall soon drive away the dangers that threaten you."Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom andsitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, and fromour window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and of theinhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw Dr.Grimesby Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside the littlefigure of the lad who drove him. The boy had some slight difficulty inundoing the heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of the doctor'svoice and saw the fury with which he shook his clinched fists at him. Thetrap drove on, and a few minutes later we saw a sudden light spring upamong the trees as the lamp was lit in one of the sitting-rooms."Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat together in thegathering darkness, "I have really some scruples as to taking you to-night.There is a distinct element of danger.""Can I be of assistance?"[270] "Your presence might be invaluable.""Then I shall certainly come.""It is very kind of you.""You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these roomsthan was visible to me.""No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine thatyou saw all that I did.""I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose thatcould answer I confess is more than I can imagine.""You saw the ventilator, too?" "Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to have asmall opening between two rooms. It was so small that a rat could hardlypass through.""I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to StokeMoran.""My dear Holmes!""Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her sistercould smell Dr. Roylott's cigar. Now, of course that suggested at oncethat there must be a communication between the two rooms. It could onlybe a small one, or it would have been remarked upon at the coroner'sinquiry. I deduced a ventilator.""But what harm can there be in that?""Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A ventilator ismade, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed dies. Does not thatstrike you?""I cannot as yet see any connection.""Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?""No.""It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened like thatbefore?""I cannot say that I have.""The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the samerelative position to the ventilator and to the rope-or so we may call it,since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull.""Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. We areonly just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible crime.""Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong heis the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. Palmer andPritchard were among the heads of their profession. This man strikes evendeeper, but I think, Watson, that we shall be able to strike deeper still. Butwe shall have horrors enough before the night is over; for goodness' sakelet us have a quiet pipe and turn our minds for a few hours to somethingmore cheerful."About nine o'clock the light among the trees was extinguished, and allwas dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours passed slowlyaway, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of eleven, a single bright lightshone out right in front of us."That is our signal," said Holmes, springing to his feet; "it comes fromthe middle window."As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord,explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance, and thatit was possible that we might spend the night there. A moment later wewere out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in our faces, and oneyellow light twinkling in front of us through the gloom to guide us on oursombre errand.There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepairedbreaches [271] gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among thetrees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about to enter through the window when out from a clump of laurel bushes there darted whatseemed to be a hideous and distorted child, who threw itself upon thegrass with writhing limbs and then ran swiftly across the lawn into thedarkness."My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?"Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like a viseupon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh and put hislips to my ear."It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon."I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected. There was acheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders at any moment.I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, after following Holmes'sexample and slipping off my shoes, I found myself inside the bedroom.My companion noiselessly closed the shutters, moved the lamp onto thetable, and cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had seen it in thedaytime. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, hewhispered into my ear again so gently that it was all that I could do todistinguish the words:"The least sound would be fatal to our plans."I nodded to show that I had heard."We must sit without light. He would see it through the ventilator."I nodded again."Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your pistolready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of the bed, and you in that chair."I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon thebed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the stump of acandle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left in darkness.How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a sound, noteven the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my companion sat openeyed, within a few feet of me, in the same state of nervous tension inwhich I was myself. The shutters cut off the least ray of light, and wewaited in absolute darkness. From outside came the occasional cry of anight-bird, and once at our very window a long drawn catlike whine,which told us that the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we couldhear the deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarterof an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, andone and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently for whatever mightbefall.Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the directionof the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was succeeded by astrong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Someone in the next roomhad lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle sound of movement, and then allwas silent once more, though the smell grew stronger. For half an hour Isat with straining ears. Then suddenly another sound became audible-avery gentle, soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escapingcontinually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes sprangfrom the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with his cane at thebell-pull."You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?"But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I hearda low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my weary eyes made it impossible [272] for me to tell what it was at which my friendlashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his face was deadly paleand filled with horror and loathing.He had ceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator whensuddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most horrible cry towhich I have ever listened. It swelled up louder and louder, a hoarse yellof pain and fear and anger all mingled in the one dreadful shriek. Theysay that away down in the village, and even in the distant parsonage, thatcry raised the sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and Istood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it had diedaway into the silence from which it rose."What can it mean?" I gasped."It means that it is all over," Holmes answered. "And perhaps, after all,it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will enter Dr. Roylott's room."With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the corridor.Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply from within. Thenhe turned the handle and entered, I at his heels, with the cocked pistol inmy hand.It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a darklantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant beam of light uponthe iron safe, the door of which was ajar. Beside this table, on the woodenchair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott, clad in a long gray dressing-gown, hisbare ankles protruding beneath, and his feet thrust into red heellessTurkish slippers. Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lashwhich we had noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward andhis eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the ceiling.Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band, with brownish speckles,which seemed to be bound tightly round his head. As we entered he madeneither sound nor motion."The band! the speckled band!" whispered Holmes.I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear began to move,and there reared itself from among his hair the squat diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent."It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the deadliest snake in India. Hehas died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence does, in truth, recoilupon the violent, and the schemer falls into the pit which he digs foranother. Let us thrust this creature back into its den, and we can thenremove Miss Stoner to some place of shelter and let the county policeknow what has happened."As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead man's lap,and throwing the noose round the reptile's neck he drew it from its horridperch and, carrying it at arm's length, threw it into the iron safe, which heclosed upon it.Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of StokeMoran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a narrative which hasalready run to too great a length by telling how we broke the sad news tothe terrified girl, how we conveyed her by the morning train to the care ofher good aunt at Harrow, of how the slow process of official inquiry cameto the conclusion that the doctor met his fate while indiscreetly playingwith a dangerous pet. The little which I had yet to learn of the case wastold me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled back next day."I had," said he, "come to an entirely erroneous conclusion whichshows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason frominsufficient data. The presence of the gypsies, and the use of the word'band,' which was used by the poor girl, no [273] doubt to explain theappearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse of by the light of hermatch, were sufficient to put me upon an entirely wrong scent. I can onlyclaim the merit that I instantly reconsidered my position when, however,it became clear to me that whatever danger threatened an occupant of theroom could not come either from the window or the door. My attentionwas speedily drawn, as I have already remarked to you, to this ventilator,and to the bell-rope which hung down to the bed. The discovery that thiswas a dummy, and that the bed was clamped to the floor, instantly gaverise to the suspicion that the rope was there as a bridge for somethingpassing through the hole and coming to the bed. The idea of a snakeinstantly occurred to me, and when I coupled it with my knowledge thatthe doctor was furnished with a supply of creatures from India, I felt that Iwas probably on the right track. The idea of using a form of poison whichcould not possibly be discovered by any chemical test was just such a oneas would occur to a clever and ruthless man who had had an Easterntraining. The rapidity with which such a poison would take effect wouldalso, from his point of view, be an advantage. It would be a sharp-eyedcoroner, indeed, who could distinguish the two little dark punctures whichwould show where the poison fangs had done their work. Then I thoughtof the whistle. Of course he must recall the snake before the morning lightrevealed it to the victim. He had trained it, probably by the use of the milkwhich we saw, to return to him when summoned. He would put it throughthis ventilator at the hour that he thought best, with the certainty that itwould crawl down the rope and land on the bed. It might or might not bitethe occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, but sooner or later she must fall a victim."I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered his room.An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in the habit ofstanding on it, which of course would be necessary in order that he shouldreach the ventilator. The sight of the safe, the saucer of milk, and the loopof whipcord were enough to finally dispel any doubts which may haveremained. The metallic clang heard by Miss Stoner was obviously causedby her stepfather hastily closing the door of his safe upon its terribleoccupant. Having once made up my mind, you know the steps which Itook in order to put the matter to the proof. I heard the creature hiss as Ihave no doubt that you did also, and I instantly lit the light and attackedit.""With the result of driving it through the ventilator.""And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master at theother side. Some of the blows of my cane came home and roused itssnakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person it saw. In this way Iam no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby Roylott's death, andI cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon my conscience."