Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes THE NOBLE BACHELOR

THE LORD ST. SIMON marriage, and its curious termination, have longceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circles in which theunfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have eclipsed it, and theirmore piquant details have drawn the gossips away from this four-year-olddrama. As I have reason to believe, however, that the full facts have neverbeen revealed to the general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmeshad a considerable share in clearing the matter up, I feel that no memoirof him would be complete without some little sketch of this remarkableepisode.It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when Iwas still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came homefrom an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the table waiting for him. I hadremained indoors all day, for the weather had taken a sudden turn to rain,with high autumnal winds, and the Jezail bullet which I had brought backin one of my limbs as a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dullpersistence. With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, Ihad surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last, saturatedwith the news of the day, I tossed them all aside and lay listless, watchingthe huge crest and monogram upon the envelope upon the table andwondering lazily who my friend's noble correspondent could be."Here is a very fashionable epistle," I remarked as he entered. "Yourmorning letters, if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and a tidewaiter.""Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety," heanswered, smiling, "and the humbler are usually the more interesting.This looks like one of those unwelcome social summonses which callupon a man either to be bored or to lie."He broke the seal and glanced over the contents."Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all.""Not social, then?""No, distinctly professional.""And from a noble client?""One of the highest in England.""My dear fellow, I congratulate you.""I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my clientis a matter of less moment to me than the interest of his case. It is justpossible, however, that that also may not be wanting in this newinvestigation. You have been reading the papers diligently of late, haveyou not?"[288] "It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in thecorner. "I have had nothing else to do.""It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I readnothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The latter isalways instructive. But if you have followed recent events so closely youmust have read about Lord St. Simon and his wedding?""Oh, yes, with the deepest interest.""That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord St.Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn over these papersand let me have whatever bears upon the matter. This is what he says:"MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES:"Lord Backwater tells me that I may place implicit relianceupon your judgment and discretion. I have determined, therefore,to call upon you and to consult you in reference to the very painfulevent which has occurred in connection with my wedding. Mr.Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is acting already in the matter, but heassures me that he sees no objection to your cooperation, and thathe even thinks that it might be of some assistance. I will call atfour o'clock in the afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement at that time, I hope that you will postpone it, as thismatter is of paramount importance.Yours faithfully,ST. SIMON."It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, and thenoble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink upon the outer sideof his right little finger," remarked Holmes as he folded up the epistle."He says four o'clock. It is three now. He will be here in an hour.""Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon thesubject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in their order oftime, while I take a glance as to who our client is." He picked a redcovered volume from a line of books of reference beside the mantelpiece."Here he is," said he, sitting down and flattening it out upon his knee."Lord Robert Walsingham de Vere St. Simon, second son of the Duke ofBalmoral. Hum! Arms: Azure, three caltrops in chief over a fess sable.Born in 1846. He's forty-one years of age, which is mature for marriage.Was Under-Secretary for the colonies in a late administration. The Duke,his father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs. They inheritPlantagenet blood by direct descent, and Tudor on the distaff side. Ha!Well, there is nothing very instructive in all this. I think that I must turn toyou, Watson, for something more solid.""I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I, "for thefacts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as remarkable. I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew that you had an inquiry on handand that you disliked the intrusion of other matters.""Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square furniturevan. That is quite cleared up now-though, indeed, it was obvious from thefirst. Pray give me the results of your newspaper selections.""Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal column ofthe Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks back:[289] "A marriage has been arranged [it says] and will, if rumouris correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert St. Simon,second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty Doran, theonly daughter of Aloysius Doran, Esq., of San Francisco, Cal., U.S. A.That is all.""Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his long, thinlegs towards the fire."There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society papers ofthe same week. Ah, here it is:"There will soon be a call for protection in the marriage market,for the present free-trade principle appears to tell heavily againstour home product. One by one the management of the noblehouses of Great Britain is passing into the hands of our fair cousinsfrom across the Atlantic. An important addition has been madeduring the last week to the list of the prizes which have been borneaway by these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shownhimself for over twenty years proof against the little god's arrows,has now definitely announced his approaching marriage with MissHatty Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire.Miss Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face attractedmuch attention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only child,and it is currently reported that her dowry will run to considerablyover the six figures, with expectancies for the future. As it is anopen secret that the Duke of Balmoral has been compelled to sellhis pictures within the last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has noproperty of his own save the small estate of Birchmoor, it isobvious that the Californian heiress is not the only gainer by analliance which will enable her to make the easy and commontransition from a Republican lady to a British peeress.""Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning."Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the Morning Post to saythat the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that it would be at St.George's, Hanover Square, that only half a dozen intimate friends wouldbe invited, and that the party would return to the furnished house atLancaster Gate which has been taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two dayslater-that is, on Wednesday last-there is a curt announcement that thewedding had taken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at Lord Backwater's place, near Petersfield. Those are all the notices whichappeared before the disappearance of the bride.""Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start."The vanishing of the lady.""When did she vanish, then?""At the wedding breakfast.""Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quite dramatic,in fact.""Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common.""They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during thehoneymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt as this.Pray let me have the details.""I warn you that they are very incomplete."[290] "Perhaps we may make them less so.""Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a morningpaper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is headed, 'SingularOccurrence at a Fashionable Wedding':"The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into thegreatest consternation by the strange and painful episodes whichhave taken place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony,as shortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on theprevious morning; but it is only now that it has been possible toconfirm the strange rumours which have been so persistentlyfloating about. In spite of the attempts of the friends to hush thematter up, so much public attention has now been drawn to it thatno good purpose can be served by affecting to disregard what is acommon subject for conversation."The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, HanoverSquare, was a very quiet one, no one being present save the fatherof the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral, LordBackwater, Lord Eustace, and Lady Clara St. Simon (the youngerbrother and sister of the bridegroom), and Lady AliciaWhittington. The whole party proceeded afterwards to the house ofMr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had beenprepared. It appears that some little trouble was caused by awoman, whose name has not been ascertained, who endeavouredto force her way into the house after the bridal party, alleging thatshe had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only after apainful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the butler andthe footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the housebefore this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfast withthe rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition andretired to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused somecomment, her father followed her, but learned from her maid thatshe had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up anulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of thefootmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the house thusapparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his mistress,believing her to be with the company. On ascertaining that hisdaughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunctionwith the bridegroom, instantly put themselves in communicationwith the police, and very energetic inquiries are being made, whichwill probably result in a speedy clearing up of this very singular business. Up to a late hour last night, however, nothing hadtranspired as to the whereabouts of the missing lady. There arerumours of foul play in the matter, and it is said that the policehave caused the arrest of the woman who had caused the originaldisturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or some other motive,she may have been concerned in the strange disappearance of thebride.""And is that all?""Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it is asuggestive one.""And it is- -""That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance, hasactually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a danseuse at theAllegro, and that [291] she has known the bridegroom for some years.There are no further particulars, and the whole case is in your handsnow-so far as it has been set forth in the public press.""And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would not havemissed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson, and as theclock makes it a few minutes after four, I have no doubt that this willprove to be our noble client. Do not dream of going, Watson, for I verymuch prefer having a witness, if only as a check to my own memory.""Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our page-boy, throwing open the door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, high-nosed andpale, with something perhaps of petulance about the mouth, and with thesteady, well-opened eye of a man whose pleasant lot it had ever been tocommand and to be obeyed. His manner was brisk, and yet his generalappearance gave an undue impression of age, for he had a slight forwardstoop and a little bend of the knees as he walked. His hair, too, as heswept off his very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled round the edges andthin upon the top. As to his dress, it was careful to the verge offoppishness, with high collar, black frock-coat, white waistcoat, yellowgloves, patent-leather shoes, and light-coloured gaiters. He advancedslowly into the room, turning his head from left to right, and swinging inhis right hand the cord which held his golden eyeglasses."Good-day, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes, rising and bowing. "Praytake the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson. Drawup a little to the fire, and we will talk this matter over.""A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, Mr.Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you have alreadymanaged several delicate cases of this sort, sir, though I presume that theywere hardly from the same class of society.""No, I am descending.""I beg pardon.""My last client of the sort was a king.""Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king?""The King of Scandinavia.""What! Had he lost his wife?""You can understand," said Holmes suavely, "that I extend to theaffairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise to you inyours.""Of course! Very right! very right! I'm sure I beg pardon. As to myown case, I am ready to give you any information which may assist you informing an opinion.""Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the public prints,nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct-this article, forexample, as to the disappearance of the bride."Lord St. Simon glanced over it. "Yes, it is correct, as far as it goes.""But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone could offeran opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts most directly byquestioning you.""Pray do so.""When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?""In San Francisco, a year ago.""You were travelling in the States?""Yes.""Did you become engaged then?"[292] "No.""But you were on a friendly footing?""I was amused by her society, and she could see that I was amused.""Her father is very rich?""He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope." "And how did he make his money?""In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold,invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds.""Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady's-your wife'scharacter?"The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down into thefire. "You see, Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife was twenty before herfather became a rich man. During that time she ran free in a mining campand wandered through woods or mountains, so that her education hascome from Nature rather than from the schoolmaster. She is what we callin England a tomboy, with a strong nature, wild and free, unfettered byany sort of traditions. She is impetuous-volcanic, I was about to say. Sheis swift in making up her mind and fearless in carrying out herresolutions. On the other hand, I would not have given her the namewhich I have the honour to bear"-he gave a little stately cough-"had not Ithought her to be at bottom a noble woman. I believe that she is capableof heroic self-sacrifice and that anything dishonourable would berepugnant to her.""Have you her photograph?""I brought this with me." He opened a locket and showed us the fullface of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but an ivoryminiature, and the artist had brought out the full effect of the lustrousblack hair, the large dark eyes, and the exquisite mouth. Holmes gazedlong and earnestly at it. Then he closed the locket and handed it back toLord St. Simon."The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed youracquaintance?""Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. I met herseveral times, became engaged to her, and have now married her.""She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry?""A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family.""And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is a faitaccompli?""I really have made no inquiries on the subject.""Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before thewedding?""Yes.""Was she in good spirits?""Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in our futurelives.""Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of the wedding?""She was as bright as possible-at least until after the ceremony.""And did you observe any change in her then?""Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had ever seenthat her temper was just a little sharp. The incident, however, was tootrivial to relate and can have no possible bearing upon the case.""Pray let us have it, for all that.""Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards thevestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it fell over into the pew. There was a moment's delay, but the gentleman in the pew handed itup to her again, and it did not appear to be the worse for the fall. Yetwhen I spoke to her of the [293] matter, she answered me abruptly; and inthe carriage, on our way home, she seemed absurdly agitated over thistrifling cause.""Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of thegeneral public were present, then?""Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is open.""This gentleman was not one of your wife's friends?""No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite acommon-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But really Ithink that we are wandering rather far from the point.""Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less cheerfulframe of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do on reentering herfather's house?""I saw her in conversation with her maid.""And who is her maid?""Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California withher.""A confidential servant?""A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed her totake great liberties. Still, of course, in America they look upon thesethings in a different way.""How long did she speak to this Alice?""Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of." "You did not overhear what they said?""Lady St. Simon said something about 'jumping a claim.' She wasaccustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she meant.""American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your wifedo when she finished speaking to her maid?""She walked into the breakfast-room.""On your arm?""No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that. Then,after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rose hurriedly, mutteredsome words of apology, and left the room. She never came back.""But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to herroom, covered her bride's dress with a long ulster, put on a bonnet, andwent out.""Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park incompany with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and whohad already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran's house that morning.""Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady, and yourrelations to her."Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. "Wehave been on a friendly footing for some years-I may say on a veryfriendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have not treated herungenerously, and she had no just cause of complaint against me, but youknow what women are, Mr. Holmes. Flora was a dear little thing, butexceedingly hot-headed and devotedly attached to me. She wrote medreadful letters when she heard that I was about to be married, and, to tellthe truth, the reason why I had the marriage celebrated so quietly was thatI feared lest there might be a scandal in the church. She came to Mr.Doran's door just after we returned, and she endeavoured to push her wayin, uttering very abusive expressions towards my wife, and eventhreatening her, but I had foreseen the possibility of something of the sort,and I had two police fellows [294] there in private clothes, who soonpushed her out again. She was quiet when she saw that there was no goodin making a row.""Did your wife hear all this?""No, thank goodness, she did not.""And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards?""Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon as soserious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid someterrible trap for her.""Well, it is a possible supposition.""You think so, too?""I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look upon this aslikely?""I do not think Flora would hurt a fly.""Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray what is yourown theory as to what took place?""Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I havegiven you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may say that it hasoccurred to me as possible that the excitement of this affair, the consciousness that she had made so immense a social stride, had theeffect of causing some little nervous disturbance in my wife.""In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?""Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back-I will notsay upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to withoutsuccess-I can hardly explain it in any other fashion.""Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis," said Holmes,smiling. "And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have nearly all my data.May I ask whether you were seated at the breakfast-table so that youcould see out of the window?""We could see the other side of the road and the Park.""Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer. I shallcommunicate with you.""Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem," said our client,rising."I have solved it.""Eh? What was that?""I say that I have solved it.""Where, then, is my wife?""That is a detail which I shall speedily supply."Lord St. Simon shook his head. "I am afraid that it will take wiserheads than yours or mine," he remarked, and bowing in a stately, oldfashioned manner he departed."It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting it on alevel with his own," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "I think that I shallhave a whisky and soda and a cigar after all this cross-questioning. I hadformed my conclusions as to the case before our client came into theroom.""My dear Holmes!""I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as I remarkedbefore, which were quite as prompt. My whole examination served to turnmy conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial evidence is occasionallyvery convincing, as when you find a trout in the milk, to quote Thoreau'sexample.""But I have heard all that you have heard.""Without, however, the knowledge of preexisting cases which servesme so well. [295] There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some yearsback, and something on very much the same lines at Munich the yearafter the Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these cases-but, hello, here isLestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade! You will find an extra tumbler uponthe sideboard, and there are cigars in the box."The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat, which gavehim a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a black canvas bag inhis hand. With a short greeting he seated himself and lit the cigar whichhad been offered to him."What's up, then?" asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. "You lookdissatisfied.""And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriage case. I canmake neither head nor tail of the business." "Really! You surprise me.""Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clue seems to slipthrough my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day.""And very wet it seems to have made you," said Holmes, laying hishand upon the arm of the pea-jacket."Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine.""In heaven's name, what for?""In search of the body of Lady St. Simon."Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily."Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain?" he asked."Why? What do you mean?""Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady in the oneas in the other."Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. "I suppose you knowall about it," he snarled."Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mind is made up.""Oh, indeed! Then you think that the Serpentine plays no part in thematter?""I think it very unlikely.""Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found this init?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the floor a weddingdress of watered silk, a pair of white satin shoes, and a bride's wreath andveil, all discoloured and soaked in water. "There," said he, putting a newwedding-ring upon the top of the pile. "There is a little nut for you tocrack, Master Holmes.""Oh, indeed!" said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air. "Youdragged them from the Serpentine?""No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper. Theyhave been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to me that if the clotheswere there the body would not be far off.""By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be found in the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope to arriveat through this?""At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance.""I am afraid that you will find it difficult.""Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with some bitterness. "I amafraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your deductions andyour inferences. You have made two blunders in as many minutes. Thisdress does implicate Miss Flora Millar.""And how?""In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the card-case isa note. [296] And here is the very note." He slapped it down upon the tablein front of him. "Listen to this:"You will see me when all is ready. Come at once."F. H. M.Now my theory all along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed awayby Flora Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, wasresponsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her initials, is thevery note which was no doubt quietly slipped into her hand at the doorand which lured her within their reach.""Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really are veryfine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in a listless way, but hisattention instantly became riveted, and he gave a little cry of satisfaction."This is indeed important," said he. "Ha! you find it so?""Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly."Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. "Why," heshrieked, "you're looking at the wrong side!""On the contrary, this is the right side.""The right side? You're mad! Here is the note written in pencil overhere.""And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel bill, whichinterests me deeply.""There's nothing in it. I looked at it before," said Lestrade."Oct. 4th, rooms 8s., breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail 1s., lunch 2s.6d., glass sherry, 8d.I see nothing in that.""Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to the note, it isimportant also, or at least the initials are, so I congratulate you again.""I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe in hardwork and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories. Good-day, Mr.Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom of the matter first." Hegathered up the garments, thrust them into the bag, and made for the door."Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rivalvanished; "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady St. Simon isa myth. There is not, and there never has been, any such person."Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me, tappedhis forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and hurried away.He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put onhis overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says about outdoorwork," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I must leave you to yourpapers for a little."It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had notime to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a confectioner's manwith a very large flat box. This he unpacked with the help of a youthwhom he had brought with him, and presently, to my very greatastonishment, a quite epicurean little cold supper began to be laid outupon our humble lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of braceof cold woodcock, a pheasant, a pâte de foie gras pie with a group ofancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries, my twovisitors vanished away, like the genii of the Arabian Nights, with noexplanation save that the things had been paid for and were ordered to thisaddress.[297] Just before nine o'clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into theroom. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his eye whichmade me think that he had not been disappointed in his conclusions."They have laid the supper, then," he said, rubbing his hands."You seem to expect company. They have laid for five.""Yes, I fancy we may have some company dropping in," said he. "I amsurprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I fancy that Ihear his step now upon the stairs." It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in,dangling his glasses more vigorously than ever, and with a very perturbedexpression upon his aristocratic features."My messenger reached you, then?" asked Holmes."Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyond measure. Haveyou good authority for what you say?""The best possible."Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his hand over his forehead."What will the Duke say," he murmured, "when he hears that one ofthe family has been subjected to such humiliation?""It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is any humiliation.""Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint.""I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how the ladycould have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method of doing it wasundoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she had no one to adviseher at such a crisis.""It was a slight, sir, a public slight," said Lord St. Simon, tapping hisfingers upon the table."You must make allowance for this poor girl, placed in sounprecedented a position.""I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I have beenshamefully used.""I think that I heard a ring," said Holmes. "Yes, there are steps on thelanding. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient view of the matter,Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate here who may be moresuccessful." He opened the door and ushered in a lady and gentleman."Lord St. Simon," said he, "allow me to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs.Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, I think, you have already met."At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from his seat andstood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his hand thrust into thebreast of his frock-coat, a picture of offended dignity. The lady had takena quick step forward and had held out her hand to him, but he still refusedto raise his eyes. It was as well for his resolution, perhaps, for herpleading face was one which it was hard to resist."You're angry, Robert," said she. "Well, I guess you have every causeto be.""Pray make no apology to me," said Lord St. Simon bitterly."Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real bad and that I should havespoken to you before I went; but I was kind of rattled, and from the timewhen I saw Frank here again I just didn't know what I was doing orsaying. I only wonder I didn't fall down and do a faint right there beforethe altar.""Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leave theroom while you explain this matter?"[298] "If I may give an opinion," remarked the strange gentleman,"we've had just a little too much secrecy over this business already. Formy part, I should like all Europe and America to hear the rights of it." Hewas a small, wiry, sunburnt man, clean-shaven, with a sharp face and alertmanner."Then I'll tell our story right away," said the lady. "Frank here and Imet in '84, in McQuire's camp, near the Rockies, where pa was workinga claim. We were engaged to each other, Frank and I; but then one dayfather struck a rich pocket and made a pile, while poor Frank here had aclaim that petered out and came to nothing. The richer pa grew the poorerwas Frank; so at last pa wouldn't hear of our engagement lasting anylonger, and he took me away to 'Frisco. Frank wouldn't throw up hishand, though; so he followed me there, and he saw me without paknowing anything about it. It would only have made him mad to know, sowe just fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that he would go and makehis pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he had as much as pa.So then I promised to wait for him to the end of time and pledged myselfnot to marry anyone else while he lived. 'Why shouldn't we be marriedright away, then,' said he, 'and then I will feel sure of you; and I won'tclaim to be your husband until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, andhe had fixed it all up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting, thatwe just did it right there; and then Frank went off to seek his fortune, and I went back to pa."The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then hewent prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New Mexico.After that came a long newspaper story about how a miners' camp hadbeen attacked by Apache Indians, and there was my Frank's name amongthe killed. I fainted dead away, and I was very sick for months after. Pathought I had a decline and took me to half the doctors in 'Frisco. Not aword of news came for a year and more, so that I never doubted thatFrank was really dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to 'Frisco, and wecame to London, and a marriage was arranged, and pa was very pleased,but I felt all the time that no man on this earth would ever take the placein my heart that had been given to my poor Frank."Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have done my dutyby him. We can't command our love, but we can our actions. I went to thealtar with him with the intention to make him just as good a wife as it wasin me to be. But you may imagine what I felt when, just as I came to thealtar rails, I glanced back and saw Frank standing and looking at me outof the first pew. I thought it was his ghost at first; but when I looked againthere he was still, with a kind of question in his eyes, as if to ask mewhether I were glad or sorry to see him. I wonder I didn't drop. I knowthat everything was turning round, and the words of the clergyman werejust like the buzz of a bee in my ear. I didn't know what to do. Should Istop the service and make a scene in the church? I glanced at him again,and he seemed to know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to hislips to tell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece of paper, andI knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his pew on the way outI dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped the note into my handwhen he returned me the flowers. It was only a line asking me to join himwhen he made the sign to me to do so. Of course I never doubted for amoment that my first duty was now to him, and I determined to do justwhatever he might direct."When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California,and had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, but to get afew things packed [299] and my ulster ready. I know I ought to havespoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before his mother andall those great people. I just made up my mind to run away and explainafterwards. I hadn't been at the table ten minutes before I saw Frank outof the window at the other side of the road. He beckoned to me and thenbegan walking into the Park. I slipped out, put on my things, and followedhim. Some woman came talking something or other about Lord St. Simonto me-seemed to me from the little I heard as if he had a little secret of hisown before marriage also-but I managed to get away from her and soonovertook Frank. We got into a cab together, and away we drove to somelodgings he had taken in Gordon Square, and that was my true weddingafter all those years of waiting. Frank had been a prisoner among theApaches, had escaped, came on to 'Frisco, found that I had given him upfor dead and had gone to England, followed me there, and had come uponme at last on the very morning of my second wedding.""I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the name andthe church but not where the lady lived.""Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all foropenness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I should like tovanish away and never see any of them again-just sending a line to pa,perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It was awful to me to think of allthose lords and ladies sitting round that breakfast-table and waiting for meto come back. So Frank took my wedding-clothes and things and made abundle of them, so that I should not be traced, and dropped them awaysomewhere where no one could find them. It is likely that we should havegone on to Paris to-morrow, only that this good gentleman, Mr. Holmes,came round to us this evening, though how he found us is more than I canthink, and he showed us very clearly and kindly that I was wrong and thatFrank was right, and that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong ifwe were so secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to LordSt. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at once.Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if I have givenyou pain, and I hope that you do not think very meanly of me."Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but hadlistened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this long narrative."Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my mostintimate personal affairs in this public manner.""Then you won't forgive me? You won't shake hands before I go?""Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure." He put out his handand coldly grasped that which she extended to him."I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined us in afriendly supper.""I think that there you ask a little too much," responded his Lordship. "Imay be forced to acquiesce in these recent developments, but I can hardlybe expected to make merry over them. I think that with your permission Iwill now wish you all a very good-night." He included us all in asweeping bow and stalked out of the room."Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your company," saidSherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet an American, Mr. Moulton,for I am one of those who believe that the folly of a monarch and theblundering of a minister in far-gone years will not prevent our childrenfrom being some day citizens of the [300] same world-wide country undera flag which shall be a quartering of the Union Jack with the Stars andStripes.""The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when ourvisitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly how simplethe explanation may be of an affair which at first sight seems to be almostinexplicable. Nothing could be more natural than the sequence of eventsas narrated by this lady, and nothing stranger than the result when viewed,for instance, by Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard.""You were not yourself at fault at all, then?""From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one that thelady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony, the otherthat she had repented of it within a few minutes of returning home.Obviously something had occurred during the morning, then, to cause herto change her mind. What could that something be? She could not havespoken to anyone when she was out, for she had been in the company ofthe bridegroom. Had she seen someone, then? If she had, it must besomeone from America because she had spent so short a time in thiscountry that she could hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so deep aninfluence over her that the mere sight of him would induce her to changeher plans so completely. You see we have already arrived, by a process ofexclusion, at the idea that she might have seen an American. Then whocould this American be, and why should he possess so much influenceover her? It might be a lover; it might be a husband. Her youngwomanhood had, I knew, been spent in rough scenes and under strangeconditions. So far I had got before I ever heard Lord St. Simon's narrative. When he told us of a man in a pew, of the change in the bride'smanner, of so transparent a device for obtaining a note as the dropping ofa bouquet, of her resort to her confidential maid, and of her verysignificant allusion to claim-jumping-which in miners' parlance meanstaking possession of that which another person has a prior claim to-thewhole situation became absolutely clear. She had gone off with a man,and the man was either a lover or was a previous husband-the chancesbeing in favour of the latter.""And how in the world did you find them?""It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade held information inhis hands the value of which he did not himself know. The initials were,of course, of the highest importance, but more valuable still was it toknow that within a week he had settled his bill at one of the most selectLondon hotels.""How did you deduce the select?""By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpence for aglass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensive hotels. There are notmany in London which charge at that rate. In the second one which Ivisited in Northumberland Avenue, I learned by an inspection of the bookthat Francis H. Moulton, an American gentleman, had left only the daybefore, and on looking over the entries against him, I came upon the veryitems which I had seen in the duplicate bill. His letters were to beforwarded to 226 Gordon Square; so thither I travelled, and beingfortunate enough to find the loving couple at home, I ventured to givethem some paternal advice and to point out to them that it would be betterin every way that they should make their position a little clearer both tothe general public and to Lord St. Simon in particular. I invited them tomeet him here, and, as you see, I made him keep the appointment."[301] "But with no very good result," I remarked. "His conduct wascertainly not very gracious.""Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps you would not be verygracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing and wedding, you foundyourself deprived in an instant of wife and of fortune. I think that we mayjudge Lord St. Simon very mercifully and thank our stars that we arenever likely to find ourselves in the same position. Draw your chair upand hand me my violin, for the only problem we have still to solve is howto while away these bleak autumnal evenings."