Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Return of Sherlock Holmes THE ABBEY GRANGE

IT WAS on a bitterly cold night and frosty morning, towards the end of thewinter of '97, that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It wasHolmes. The [636] candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face,and told me at a glance that something was amiss."Come, Watson, come!" he cried. "The game is afoot. Not a word! Intoyour clothes and come!"Ten minutes later we were both in a cab, and rattling through the silentstreets on our way to Charing Cross Station. The first faint winter's dawnwas beginning to appear, and we could dimly see the occasional figure ofan early workman as he passed us, blurred and indistinct in the opalescentLondon reek. Holmes nestled in silence into his heavy coat, and I wasglad to do the same, for the air was most bitter, and neither of us hadbroken our fast.It was not until we had consumed some hot tea at the station and takenour places in the Kentish train that we were sufficiently thawed, he tospeak and I to listen. Holmes drew a note from his pocket, and read aloud:'Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent,'3:30 A.M.'MY DEAR MR. HOLMES:I should be very glad of your immediate assistance in whatpromises to be a most remarkable case. It is something quite inyour line. Except for releasing the lady I will see that everything iskept exactly as I have found it, but I beg you not to lose an instant,as it is difficult to leave Sir Eustace there.'Yours faithfully,'STANLEY HOPKINS."Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion hissummons has been entirely justified," said Holmes. "I fancy that everyone of his cases has found its way into your collection, and I must admit,Watson, that you have some power of selection, which atones for muchwhich I deplore in your narratives. Your fatal habit of looking ateverything from the point of view of a story instead of as a scientific exercise has ruined what might have been an instructive and evenclassical series of demonstrations. You slur over work of the utmostfinesse and delicacy, in order to dwell upon sensational details which mayexcite, but cannot possibly instruct, the reader.""Why do you not write them yourself?" I said, with some bitterness."I will, my dear Watson, I will. At present I am, as you know, fairlybusy, but I propose to devote my declining years to the composition of atextbook, which shall focus the whole art of detection into one volume.Our present research appears to be a case of murder.""You think this Sir Eustace is dead, then?""I should say so. Hopkins's writing shows considerable agitation, andhe is not an emotional man. Yes, I gather there has been violence, and thatthe body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would not have causedhim to send for me. As to the release of the lady, it would appear that shehas been locked in her room during the tragedy. We are moving in highlife, Watson, crackling paper, 'E. B.' monogram, coat-of-arms,picturesque address. I think that friend Hopkins will live up to hisreputation, and that we shall have an interesting morning. The crime wascommitted before twelve last night.""How can you possibly tell?""By an inspection of the trains, and by reckoning the time. The localpolice [637] had to be called in, they had to communicate with ScotlandYard, Hopkins had to go out, and he in turn had to send for me. All thatmakes a fair night's work. Well, here we are at Chiselhurst Station, andwe shall soon set our doubts at rest."A drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes brought us toa park gate, which was opened for us by an old lodge-keeper, whosehaggard face bore the reflection of some great disaster. The avenue ranthrough a noble park, between lines of ancient elms, and ended in a low,widespread house, pillared in front after the fashion of Palladio. Thecentral part was evidently of a great age and shrouded in ivy, but the largewindows showed that modern changes had been carried out, and one wingof the house appeared to be entirely new. The youthful figure and alert,eager face of Inspector Stanley Hopkins confronted us in the opendoorway."I'm very glad you have come, Mr. Holmes. And you, too, Dr. Watson.But, indeed, if I had my time over again, I should not have troubled you,for since the lady has come to herself, she has given so clear an accountof the affair that there is not much left for us to do. You remember thatLewisham gang of burglars?""What, the three Randalls?""Exactly; the father and two sons. It's their work. I have not a doubt ofit. They did a job at Sydenham a fortnight ago and were seen anddescribed. Rather cool to do another so soon and so near, but it is they,beyond all doubt. It's a hanging matter this time.""Sir Eustace is dead, then?""Yes, his head was knocked in with his own poker.""Sir Eustace Brackenstall, the driver tells me.""Exactly-one of the richest men in Kent-Lady Brackenstall is in the morning-room. Poor lady, she has had a most dreadful experience. Sheseemed half dead when I saw her first. I think you had best see her andhear her account of the facts. Then we will examine the dining-roomtogether."Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person. Seldom have I seen sograceful a figure, so womanly a presence, and so beautiful a face. She wasa blonde, golden-haired, blue-eyed, and would no doubt have had theperfect complexion which goes with such colouring, had not her recentexperience left her drawn and haggard. Her sufferings were physical aswell as mental, for over one eye rose a hideous, plum-coloured swelling,which her maid, a tall, austere woman, was bathing assiduously withvinegar and water. The lady lay back exhausted upon a couch, but herquick, observant gaze, as we entered the room, and the alert expression ofher beautiful features, showed that neither her wits nor her courage hadbeen shaken by her terrible experience. She was enveloped in a loosedressing-gown of blue and silver, but a black sequin-covered dinner-dresslay upon the couch beside her."I have told you all that happened, Mr. Hopkins," she said, wearily."Could you not repeat it for me? Well, if you think it necessary, I will tellthese gentlemen what occurred. Have they been in the dining-room yet?""I thought they had better hear your ladyship's story first.""I shall be glad when you can arrange matters. It is horrible to me tothink of him still lying there." She shuddered and buried her face in herhands. As she did so, the loose gown fell back from her forearms. Holmesuttered an exclamation."You have other injuries, madam! What is this?" Two vivid red spotsstood out on one of the white, round limbs. She hastily covered it.[638] "It is nothing. It has no connection with this hideous business tonight. If you and your friend will sit down, I will tell you all I can."I am the wife of Sir Eustace Brackenstall. I have been married about ayear. I suppose that it is no use my attempting to conceal that ourmarriage has not been a happy one. I fear that all our neighbours wouldtell you that, even if I were to attempt to deny it. Perhaps the fault may bepartly mine. I was brought up in the freer, less conventional atmosphereof South Australia, and this English life, with its proprieties and itsprimness, is not congenial to me. But the main reason lies in the one fact,which is notorious to everyone, and that is that Sir Eustace was aconfirmed drunkard. To be with such a man for an hour is unpleasant.Can you imagine what it means for a sensitive and high-spirited womanto be tied to him for day and night? It is a sacrilege, a crime, a villainy tohold that such a marriage is binding. I say that these monstrous laws ofyours will bring a curse upon the land-God will not let such wickednessendure." For an instant she sat up, her cheeks flushed, and her eyesblazing from under the terrible mark upon her brow. Then the strong,soothing hand of the austere maid drew her head down on to the cushion,and the wild anger died away into passionate sobbing. At last shecontinued:"I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in thishouse all the servants sleep in the modern wing. This central block ismade up of the dwelling-rooms, with the kitchen behind and our bedroomabove. My maid, Theresa, sleeps above my room. There is no one else,and no sound could alarm those who are in the farther wing. This musthave been well known to the robbers, or they would not have acted asthey did."Sir Eustace retired about half-past ten. The servants had already gone to their quarters. Only my maid was up, and she had remained in herroom at the top of the house until I needed her services. I sat until aftereleven in this room, absorbed in a book. Then I walked round to see thatall was right before I went upstairs. It was my custom to do this myself,for, as I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to be trusted. I wentinto the kitchen, the butler's pantry, the gun-room, the billiard-room, thedrawing-room, and finally the dining-room. As I approached the window,which is covered with thick curtains, I suddenly felt the wind blow uponmy face and realized that it was open. I flung the curtain aside and foundmyself face to face with a broad-shouldered elderly man, who had juststepped into the room. The window is a long French one, which reallyforms a door leading to the lawn. I held my bedroom candle lit in myhand, and, by its light, behind the first man I saw two others, who were inthe act of entering. I stepped back, but the fellow was on me in an instant.He caught me first by the wrist and then by the throat. I opened my mouthto scream, but he struck me a savage blow with his fist over the eye, andfelled me to the ground. I must have been unconscious for a few minutes,for when I came to myself, I found that they had torn down the bell-rope,and had secured me tightly to the oaken chair which stands at the head ofthe dining-table. I was so firmly bound that I could not move, and ahandkerchief round my mouth prevented me from uttering a sound. It wasat this instant that my unfortunate husband entered the room. He hadevidently heard some suspicious sounds, and he came prepared for such ascene as he found. He was dressed in nightshirt and trousers, with hisfavourite blackthorn cudgel in his hand. He rushed at the burglars, butanother-it was an elderly man-stooped, picked the poker out of the grateand struck him a horrible blow as he passed. He [639] fell with a groanand never moved again. I fainted once more, but again it could only havebeen for a very few minutes during which I was insensible. When Iopened my eyes I found that they had collected the silver from thesideboard, and they had drawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each ofthem had a glass in his hand. I have already told you, have I not, that onewas elderly, with a beard, and the others young, hairless lads. They mighthave been a father with his two sons. They talked together in whispers.Then they came over and made sure that I was securely bound. Finallythey withdrew, closing the window after them. It was quite a quarter of anhour before I got my mouth free. When I did so, my screams brought themaid to my assistance. The other servants were soon alarmed, and we sentfor the local police, who instantly communicated with London. That isreally all that I can tell you, gentlemen, and I trust that it will not benecessary for me to go over so painful a story again.""Any questions, Mr. Holmes?" asked Hopkins."I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall's patienceand time," said Holmes. "Before I go into the dining-room, I should liketo hear your experience." He looked at the maid."I saw the men before ever they came into the house," said she. "As Isat by my bedroom window I saw three men in the moonlight down bythe lodge gate yonder, but I thought nothing of it at the time. It was morethan an hour after that I heard my mistress scream, and down I ran, to find her, poor lamb, just as she says, and him on the floor, with his blood andbrains over the room. It was enough to drive a woman out of her wits, tiedthere, and her very dress spotted with him, but she never wanted courage,did Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide and Lady Brackenstall of AbbeyGrange hasn't learned new ways. You've questioned her long enough,you gentlemen, and now she is coming to her own room, just with her oldTheresa, to get the rest that she badly needs."With a motherly tenderness the gaunt woman put her arm round hermistress and led her from the room."She has been with her all her life," said Hopkins. "Nursed her as ababy, and came with her to England when they first left Australia,eighteen months ago. Theresa Wright is her name, and the kind of maidyou don't pick up nowadays. This way, Mr. Holmes, if you please!"The keen interest had passed out of Holmes's expressive face, and Iknew that with the mystery all the charm of the case had departed. Therestill remained an arrest to be effected, but what were these commonplacerogues that he should soil his hands with them? An abstruse and learnedspecialist who finds that he has been called in for a case of measles wouldexperience something of the annoyance which I read in my friend's eyes.Yet the scene in the dining-room of the Abbey Grange was sufficientlystrange to arrest his attention and to recall his waning interest.It was a very large and high chamber, with carved oak ceiling, oakenpanelling, and a fine array of deer's heads and ancient weapons aroundthe walls. At the further end from the door was the high French windowof which we had heard. Three smaller windows on the right-hand sidefilled the apartment with cold winter sunshine. On the left was a large,deep fireplace, with a massive, overhanging oak mantelpiece. Beside thefireplace was a heavy oaken chair with arms and crossbars at the bottom.In and out through the open woodwork was woven a crimson cord, whichwas secured at each side to the crosspiece below. In releasing the [640]lady, the cord had been slipped off her, but the knots with which it hadbeen secured still remained. These details only struck our attentionafterwards, for our thoughts were entirely absorbed by the terrible objectwhich lay upon the tiger-skin hearthrug in front of the fire. It was the body of a tall, well-made man, about forty years of age. Helay upon his back, his face upturned, with his white teeth grinningthrough his short, black beard. His two clenched hands were raised abovehis head, and a heavy, blackthorn stick lay across them. His dark,handsome, aquiline features were convulsed into a spasm of vindictivehatred, which had set his dead face in a terribly fiendish expression. Hehad evidently been in his bed when the alarm had broken out, for he worea foppish, embroidered nightshirt, and his bare feet projected from histrousers. His head was horribly injured, and the whole room bore witnessto the savage ferocity of the blow which had struck him down. Besidehim lay the heavy poker, bent into a curve by the concussion. Holmesexamined both it and the indescribable wreck which it had wrought."He must be a powerful man, this elder Randall," he remarked."Yes," said Hopkins. "I have some record of the fellow, and he is arough customer.""You should have no difficulty in getting him.""Not the slightest. We have been on the look-out for him, and there wassome idea that he had got away to America. Now that we know that thegang are here, I don't see how they can escape. We have the news atevery seaport already, and a reward will be offered before evening. Whatbeats me is how they could have done so mad a thing, knowing that thelady could describe them and that we could not fail to recognize thedescription.""Exactly. One would have expected that they would silence LadyBrackenstall as well." "They may not have realized," I suggested, "that she had recoveredfrom her faint.""That is likely enough. If she seemed to be senseless, they would nottake her life. What about this poor fellow, Hopkins? I seem to have heardsome queer stories about him.""He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiendwhen he was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldomreally went the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such times,and he was capable of anything. From what I hear, in spite of all hiswealth and his title, he very nearly came our way once or twice. Therewas a scandal about his drenching a dog with petroleum and setting it onfire-her ladyship's dog, to make the matter worse-and that was onlyhushed up with difficulty. Then he threw a decanter at that maid, TheresaWright-there was trouble about that. On the whole, and betweenourselves, it will be a brighter house without him. What are you lookingat now?"Holmes was down on his knees, examining with great attention theknots upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured. Then hecarefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it had snapped offwhen the burglar had dragged it down."When this was pulled down, the bell in the kitchen must have rungloudly," he remarked."No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back of thehouse."[641] "How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared hepull at a bell-rope in that reckless fashion?""Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which I haveasked myself again and again. There can be no doubt that this fellow musthave known the house and its habits. He must have perfectly understoodthat the servants would all be in bed at that comparatively early hour, andthat no one could possibly hear a bell ring in the kitchen. Therefore, hemust have been in close league with one of the servants. Surely that isevident. But there are eight servants, and all of good character.""Other things being equal," said Holmes, "one would suspect the one atwhose head the master threw a decanter. And yet that would involvetreachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems devoted. Well,well, the point is a minor one, and when you have Randall you willprobably find no difficulty in securing his accomplice. The lady's storycertainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed corroboration, by everydetail which we see before us." He walked to the French window andthrew it open. "There are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, andone would not expect them. I see that these candles in the mantelpiecehave been lighted.""Yes, it was by their light, and that of the lady's bedroom candle, thatthe burglars saw their way about.""And what did they take?""Well, they did not take much-only half a dozen articles of plate off thesideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they were themselves sodisturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack the house, as they would otherwise have done.""No doubt that is true, and yet they drank some wine, I understand.""To steady their nerves.""Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been untouched,I suppose?""Yes, and the bottle stands as they left it.""Let us look at it. Halloa, halloa! What is this?"The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged with wine,and one of them containing some dregs of beeswing. The bottle stoodnear them, two-thirds full, and beside it lay a long, deeply stained cork. Itsappearance and the dust upon the bottle showed that it was no commonvintage which the murderers had enjoyed.A change had come over Holmes's manner. He had lost his listlessexpression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his keen, deep-seteyes. He raised the cork and examined it minutely."How did they draw it?" he asked.Hopkins pointed to a half-opened drawer. In it lay some table linen anda large corkscrew."Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?""No, you remember that she was senseless at the moment when thebottle was opened.""Quite so. As a matter of fact, that screw was not used. This bottle wasopened by a pocket screw, probably contained in a knife, and not morethan an inch and a half long. If you will examine the top of the cork, youwill observe that the screw was driven in three times before the cork wasextracted. It has never been [642] transfixed. This long screw would havetransfixed it and drawn it up with a single pull. When you catch thisfellow, you will find that he has one of these multiplex knives in hispossession.""Excellent!" said Hopkins."But these glasses do puzzle me, I confess. Lady Brackenstall actuallysaw the three men drinking, did she not?""Yes; she was clear about that.""Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said? And yet, you mustadmit, that the three glasses are very remarkable, Hopkins. What? Yousee nothing remarkable? Well, well, let it pass. Perhaps, when a man has special knowledge and special powers like my own, it rather encourageshim to seek a complex explanation when a simpler one is at hand. Ofcourse, it must be a mere chance about the glasses. Well, good-morning,Hopkins. I don't see that I can be of any use to you, and you appear tohave your case very clear. You will let me know when Randall is arrested,and any further developments which may occur. I trust that I shall soonhave to congratulate you upon a successful conclusion. Come, Watson, Ifancy that we may employ ourselves more profitably at home."During our return journey, I could see by Holmes's face that he wasmuch puzzled by something which he had observed. Every now and then,by an effort, he would throw off the impression, and talk as if the matterwere clear, but then his doubts would settle down upon him again, and hisknitted brows and abstracted eyes would show that his thoughts had goneback once more to the great dining-room of the Abbey Grange, in whichthis midnight tragedy had been enacted. At last, by a sudden impulse, justas our train was crawling out of a suburban station, he sprang on to theplatform and pulled me out after him."Excuse me, my dear fellow," said he, as we watched the rear carriagesof our train disappearing round a curve, "I am sorry to make you thevictim of what may seem a mere whim, but on my life, Watson, I simplycan't leave that case in this condition. Every instinct that I possess criesout against it. It's wrong -it's all wrong-I'll swear that it's wrong. Andyet the lady's story was complete, the maid's corroboration was sufficient, the detail was fairly exact. What have I to put up against that?Three wine-glasses, that is all. But if I had not taken things for granted, ifI had examined everything with care which I should have shown had weapproached the case de novo and had no cut-and-dried story to warp mymind, should I not then have found something more definite to go upon?Of course I should. Sit down on this bench, Watson, until a train forChiselhurst arrives, and allow me to lay the evidence before you,imploring you in the first instance to dismiss from your mind the idea thatanything which the maid or her mistress may have said must necessarilybe true. The lady's charming personality must not be permitted to warpour judgment."Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at in coldblood, would excite our suspicion. These burglars made a considerablehaul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of them and of theirappearance was in the papers, and would naturally occur to anyone whowished to invent a story in which imaginary robbers should play a part.As a matter of fact, burglars who have done a good stroke of business are,as a rule, only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet withoutembarking on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusual forburglars to operate at so early an hour, it is unusual for burglars to strike alady to prevent her screaming, since one would imagine that was the sureway to make her [643] scream, it is unusual for them to commit murderwhen their numbers are sufficient to overpower one man, it is unusual forthem to be content with a limited plunder when there was much morewithin their reach, and finally, I should say, that it was very unusual forsuch men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all these unusuals strikeyou, Watson?""Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each of themis quite possible in itself. The most unusual thing of all, as it seems to me,is that the lady should be tied to the chair.""Well, I am not so clear about that, Watson, for it is evident that theymust either kill her or else secure her in such a way that she could notgive immediate notice of their escape. But at any rate I have shown, haveI not, that there is a certain element of improbability about the lady'sstory? And now, on the top of this, comes the incident of the wineglasses.""What about the wineglasses?""Can you see them in your mind's eye?""I see them clearly.""We are told that three men drank from them. Does that strike you aslikely?""Why not? There was wine in each glass.""Exactly, but there was beeswing only in one glass. You must havenoticed that fact. What does that suggest to your mind?""The last glass filled would be most likely to contain beeswing.""Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable that the firsttwo glasses were clear and the third heavily charged with it. There aretwo possible explanations, and only two. One is that after the second glasswas filled the bottle was violently agitated, and so the third glass receivedthe beeswing. That does not appear probable. No, no, I am sure that I am right.""What, then, do you suppose?""That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both werepoured into a third glass, so as to give the false impression that threepeople had been here. In that way all the beeswing would be in the lastglass, would it not? Yes, I am convinced that this is so. But if I have hitupon the true explanation of this one small phenomenon, then in aninstant the case rises from the commonplace to the exceedinglyremarkable, for it can only mean that Lady Brackenstall and her maidhave deliberately lied to us, that not one word of their story is to bebelieved, that they have some very strong reason for covering the realcriminal, and that we must construct our case for ourselves without anyhelp from them. That is the mission which now lies before us, and here,Watson, is the Sydenham train."The household at the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our return,but Sherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had gone off to reportto headquarters, took possession of the dining-room, locked the door uponthe inside, and devoted himself for two hours to one of those minute andlaborious investigations which form the solid basis on which his brilliantedifices of deduction were reared. Seated in a corner like an interestedstudent who observes the demonstration of his professor, I followed everystep of that remarkable research. The window, the curtains, the carpet, thechair, the rope -each in turn was minutely examined and duly pondered.The body of the unfortunate baronet had been removed, and all elseremained as we had seen it in the morning. Finally, to my astonishment,Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece. Far above his headhung the few inches of red cord which were still attached to the wire. Fora long time he [644] gazed upward at it, and then in an attempt to getnearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket on the wall. Thisbrought his hand within a few inches of the broken end of the rope, but itwas not this so much as the bracket itself which seemed to engage hisattention. Finally, he sprang down with an ejaculation of satisfaction."It's all right, Watson," said he. "We have got our case-one of the mostremarkable in our collection. But, dear me, how slow-witted I have been,and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my lifetime! Now, Ithink that, with a few missing links, my chain is almost complete.""You have got your men?""Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person. Strong asa lion-witness the blow that bent that poker! Six foot three in height,active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers, finally, remarkably quickwitted, for this whole ingenious story is of his concoction. Yes, Watson,we have come upon the handiwork of a very remarkable individual. Andyet, in that bell-rope, he has given us a clue which should not have left usa doubt.""Where was the clue?""Well, if you were to pull down a bell-rope, Watson, where would youexpect it to break? Surely at the spot where it is attached to the wire. Whyshould it break three inches from the top, as this one has done?""Because it is frayed there?" "Exactly. This end, which we can examine, is frayed. He was cunningenough to do that with his knife. But the other end is not frayed. Youcould not observe that from here, but if you were on the mantelpiece youwould see that it is cut clean off without any mark of fraying whatever.You can reconstruct what occurred. The man needed the rope. He wouldnot tear it down for fear of giving the alarm by ringing the bell. What didhe do? He sprang up on the mantelpiece, could not quite reach it, put hisknee on the bracket-you will see the impression in the dust-and so got hisknife to bear upon the cord. I could not reach the place by at least threeinches-from which I infer that he is at least three inches a bigger manthan I. Look at that mark upon the seat of the oaken chair! What is it?""Blood.""Undoubtedly it is blood. This alone puts the lady's story out of court.If she were seated on the chair when the crime was done, how comes thatmark? No, no, she was placed in the chair after the death of her husband.I'll wager that the black dress shows a corresponding mark to this. Wehave not yet met our Waterloo, Watson, but this is our Marengo, for itbegins in defeat and ends in victory. I should like now to have a fewwords with the nurse, Theresa. We must be wary for a while, if we are toget the information which we want."She was an interesting person, this stern Australian nurse-taciturn,suspicious, ungracious, it took some time before Holmes's pleasantmanner and frank acceptance of all that she said thawed her into acorresponding amiability. She did not attempt to conceal her hatred forher late employer. "Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me. I heard him call mymistress a name, and I told him that he would not dare to speak so if herbrother had been there. Then it was that he threw it at me. He might havethrown a dozen if he had but left my bonny bird alone. He was forever illtreating her, and she too proud to complain. She will not even tell me allthat he has done to her. She never told me of those marks on her arm thatyou saw this morning, but I know very well [645] that they come from astab with a hatpin. The sly devil-God forgive me that I should speak ofhim so, now that he is dead! But a devil he was, if ever one walked theearth. He was all honey when first we met him-only eighteen months ago,and we both feel as if it were eighteen years. She had only just arrived inLondon. Yes, it was her first voyage-she had never been from homebefore. He won her with his title and his money and his false Londonways. If she made a mistake she has paid for it, if ever a woman did.What month did we meet him? Well, I tell you it was just after wearrived. We arrived in June, and it was July. They were married inJanuary of last year. Yes, she is down in the morning-room again, and Ihave no doubt she will see you, but you must not ask too much of her, forshe has gone through all that flesh and blood will stand."Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but looked brighterthan before. The maid had entered with us, and began once more tofoment the bruise upon her mistress's brow."I hope," said the lady, "that you have not come to cross-examine meagain?""No," Holmes answered, in his gentlest voice, "I will not cause you anyunnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall, and my whole desire is to makethings easy for you, for I am convinced that you are a much-tried woman.If you will treat me as a friend and trust me, you may find that I willjustify your trust.""What do you want me to do?""To tell me the truth.""Mr. Holmes!""No, no, Lady Brackenstall-it is no use. You may have heard of anylittle reputation which I possess. I will stake it all on the fact that yourstory is an absolute fabrication."Mistress and maid were both staring at Holmes with pale faces andfrightened eyes."You are an impudent fellow!" cried Theresa. "Do you mean to say thatmy mistress has told a lie?"Holmes rose from his chair."Have you nothing to tell me?""I have told you everything.""Think once more, Lady Brackenstall. Would it not be better to befrank?"For an instant there was hesitation in her beautiful face. Then some newstrong thought caused it to set like a mask."I have told you all I know."Holmes took his hat and shrugged his shoulders. "I am sorry," he said,and without another word we left the room and the house. There was a pond in the park, and to this my friend led the way. It was frozen over, buta single hole was left for the convenience of a solitary swan. Holmesgazed at it, and then passed on to the lodge gate. There he scribbled ashort note for Stanley Hopkins, and left it with the lodge-keeper."It may be a hit, or it may be a miss, but we are bound to do somethingfor friend Hopkins, just to justify this second visit," said he. "I will notquite take him into my confidence yet. I think our next scene ofoperations must be the shipping office of the Adelaide-Southampton line,which stands at the end of Pall Mall, if I remember right. There is asecond line of steamers which connect South Australia with England, butwe will draw the larger cover first."Holmes's card sent in to the manager ensured instant attention, and hewas [646] not long in acquiring all the information he needed. In June of'95, only one of their line had reached a home port. It was the Rock ofGibraltar, their largest and best boat. A reference to the passenger listshowed that Miss Fraser, of Adelaide, with her maid had made the voyagein her. The boat was now somewhere south of the Suez Canal on her wayto Australia. Her officers were the same as in '95, with one exception.The first officer, Mr. Jack Crocker, had been made a captain and was totake charge of their new ship, the Bass Rock, sailing in two days' timefrom Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he was likely to be in thatmorning for instructions, if we cared to wait for him.No, Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to knowmore about his record and character.His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in the fleet to touch him. As to his character, he was reliable on duty, but a wild,desperate fellow off the deck of his ship-hot-headed, excitable, but loyal,honest, and kind-hearted. That was the pith of the information with whichHolmes left the office of the Adelaide-Southampton company. Thence hedrove to Scotland Yard, but, instead of entering, he sat in his cab with hisbrows drawn down, lost in profound thought. Finally he drove round tothe Charing Cross telegraph office, sent off a message, and then, at last,we made for Baker Street once more."No, I couldn't do it, Watson," said he, as we reentered our room."Once that warrant was made out, nothing on earth would save him. Onceor twice in my career I feel that I have done more real harm by mydiscovery of the criminal than ever he had done by his crime. I havelearned caution now, and I had rather play tricks with the law of Englandthan with my own conscience. Let us know a little more before we act."Before evening, we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins. Thingswere not going very well with him."I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really do sometimesthink that you have powers that are not human. Now, how on earth couldyou know that the stolen silver was at the bottom of that pond?""I didn't know it.""But you told me to examine it.""You got it, then?""Yes, I got it.""I am very glad if I have helped you.""But you haven't helped me. You have made the affair far moredifficult. What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and then throw itinto the nearest pond?""It was certainly rather eccentric behaviour. I was merely going on theidea that if the silver had been taken by persons who did not want it-whomerely took it for a blind, as it were-then they would naturally be anxiousto get rid of it.""But why should such an idea cross your mind?""Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through theFrench window, there was the pond with one tempting little hole in theice, right in front of their noses. Could there be a better hiding-place?""Ah, a hiding-place-that is better!" cried Stanley Hopkins. "Yes, yes, Isee it all now! It was early, there were folk upon the roads, they wereafraid of being seen with the silver, so they sank it in the pond, intendingto return for it when the coast was clear. Excellent, Mr. Holmes-that isbetter than your idea of a blind.""Quite so, you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt that myown ideas [647] were quite wild, but you must admit that they have endedin discovering the silver.""Yes, sir-yes. It was all your doing. But I have had a bad setback.""A setback?""Yes, Mr. Holmes. The Randall gang were arrested in New York thismorning.""Dear me, Hopkins! That is certainly rather against your theory thatthey committed a murder in Kent last night." "It is fatal, Mr. Holmes-absolutely fatal. Still, there are other gangs ofthree besides the Randalls, or it may be some new gang of which thepolice have never heard.""Quite so, it is perfectly possible. What, are you off?""Yes, Mr. Holmes, there is no rest for me until I have got to the bottomof the business. I suppose you have no hint to give me?""I have given you one.""Which?""Well, I suggested a blind.""But why, Mr. Holmes, why?""Ah, that's the question, of course. But I commend the idea to yourmind. You might possibly find that there was something in it. You won'tstop for dinner? Well, good-bye, and let us know how you get on."Dinner was over, and the table cleared before Holmes alluded to thematter again. He had lit his pipe and held his slippered feet to the cheerfulblaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked at his watch."I expect developments, Watson.""When?""Now-within a few minutes. I dare say you thought I acted rather badlyto Stanley Hopkins just now?""I trust your judgment.""A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it this way: what Iknow is unofficial, what he knows is official. I have the right to privatejudgment, but he has none. He must disclose all, or he is a traitor to hisservice. In a doubtful case I would not put him in so painful a position,and so I reserve my information until my own mind is clear upon thematter.""But when will that be?""The time has come. You will now be present at the last scene of aremarkable little drama."There was a sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened to admit asfine a specimen of manhood as ever passed through it. He was a very tallyoung man, golden-moustached, blue-eyed, with a skin which had beenburned by tropical suns, and a springy step, which showed that the hugeframe was as active as it was strong. He closed the door behind him, andthen he stood with clenched hands and heaving breast, choking downsome overmastering emotion."Sit down, Captain Crocker. You got my telegram?"Our visitor sank into an armchair and looked from one to the other ofus with questioning eyes."I got your telegram, and I came at the hour you said. I heard that youhad been down to the office. There was no getting away from you. Let'shear the worst. What are you going to do with me? Arrest me? Speak out,man! You can't sit there and play with me like a cat with a mouse."[648] "Give him a cigar," said Holmes. "Bite on that, Captain Crocker,and don't let your nerves run away with you. I should not sit heresmoking with you if I thought that you were a common criminal, you maybe sure of that. Be frank with me and we may do some good. Play trickswith me, and I'll crush you.""What do you wish me to do?""To give me a true account of all that happened at the Abbey Grangelast night-a true account, mind you, with nothing added and nothingtaken off. I know so much already that if you go one inch off the straight,I'll blow this police whistle from my window and the affair goes out ofmy hands forever."The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg with his greatsunburned hand."I'll chance it," he cried. "I believe you are a man of your word, and awhite man, and I'll tell you the whole story. But one thing I will say first.So far as I am concerned, I regret nothing and I fear nothing, and I woulddo it all again and be proud of the job. Damn the beast, if he had as manylives as a cat, he would owe them all to me! But it's the lady, Mary-MaryFraser-for never will I call her by that accursed name. When I think ofgetting her into trouble, I who would give my life just to bring one smileto her dear face, it's that that turns my soul into water. And yet-and yet-what less could I do? I'll tell you my story, gentlemen, and then I'llask you, as man to man, what less could I do?"I must go back a bit. You seem to know everything, so I expect thatyou know that I met her when she was a passenger and I was first officerof the Rock of Gibraltar. From the first day I met her, she was the onlywoman to me. Every day of that voyage I loved her more, and many atime since have I kneeled down in the darkness of the night watch andkissed the deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod it. Shewas never engaged to me. She treated me as fairly as ever a womantreated a man. I have no complaint to make. It was all love on my side,and all good comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted shewas a free woman, but I could never again be a free man."Next time I came back from sea, I heard of her marriage. Well, whyshouldn't she marry whom she liked? Title and money-who could carrythem better than she? She was born for all that is beautiful and dainty. Ididn't grieve over her marriage. I was not such a selfish hound as that. Ijust rejoiced that good luck had come her way, and that she had notthrown herself away on a penniless sailor. That's how I loved MaryFraser."Well, I never thought to see her again, but last voyage I was promoted,and the new boat was not yet launched, so I had to wait for a couple ofmonths with my people at Sydenham. One day out in a country lane I metTheresa Wright, her old maid. She told me all about her, about him, abouteverything. I tell you, gentlemen, it nearly drove me mad. This drunkenhound, that he should dare to raise his hand to her, whose boots he wasnot worthy to lick! I met Theresa again. Then I met Mary herself-and mether again. Then she would meet me no more. But the other day I had anotice that I was to start on my voyage within a week, and I determinedthat I would see her once before I left. Theresa was always my friend, forshe loved Mary and hated this villain almost as much as I did. From her Ilearned the ways of the house. Mary used to sit up reading in her ownlittle room downstairs. I crept round there last night and scratched at thewindow. At first she would not open to me, but in her heart I know thatnow she loves me, and she could not leave me in the frosty night. Shewhispered to me to come [649] round to the big front window, and I foundit open before me, so as to let me into the dining-room. Again I heardfrom her own lips things that made my blood boil, and again I cursed thisbrute who mishandled the woman I loved. Well, gentlemen, I wasstanding with her just inside the window, in all innocence, as God is myjudge, when he rushed like a madman into the room, called her the vilestname that a man could use to a woman, and welted her across the facewith the stick he had in his hand. I had sprung for the poker, and it was afair fight between us. See here, on my arm, where his first blow fell. Thenit was my turn, and I went through him as if he had been a rottenpumpkin. Do you think I was sorry? Not I! It was his life or mine, but farmore than that, it was his life or hers, for how could I leave her in thepower of this madman? That was how I killed him. Was I wrong? Well,then, what would either of you gentlemen have done, if you had been inmy position?" "She had screamed when he struck her, and that brought old Theresadown from the room above. There was a bottle of wine on the sideboard,and I opened it and poured a little between Mary's lips, for she was halfdead with shock. Then I took a drop myself. Theresa was as cool as ice,and it was her plot as much as mine. We must make it appear thatburglars had done the thing. Theresa kept on repeating our story to hermistress, while I swarmed up and cut the rope of the bell. Then I lashedher in her chair, and frayed out the end of the rope to make it look natural,else they would wonder how in the world a burglar could have got upthere to cut it. Then I gathered up a few plates and pots of silver, to carryout the idea of the robbery, and there I left them, with orders to give thealarm when I had a quarter of an hour's start. I dropped the silver into thepond, and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for once in my life I haddone a real good night's work. And that's the truth and the whole truth,Mr. Holmes, if it costs me my neck."Holmes smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossed the room,and shook our visitor by the hand."That's what I think," said he. "I know that every word is true, for youhave hardly said a word which I did not know. No one but an acrobat or asailor could have got up to that bell-rope from the bracket, and no one buta sailor could have made the knots with which the cord was fastened tothe chair. Only once had this lady been brought into contact with sailors,and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own class of life,since she was trying hard to shield him, and so showing that she lovedhim. You see how easy it was for me to lay my hands upon you whenonce I had started upon the right trail.""I thought the police never could have seen through our dodge.""And the police haven't, nor will they, to the best of my belief. Now,look here, Captain Crocker, this is a very serious matter, though I amwilling to admit that you acted under the most extreme provocation towhich any man could be subjected. I am not sure that in defence of yourown life your action will not be pronounced legitimate. However, that isfor a British jury to decide. Meanwhile I have so much sympathy for youthat, if you choose to disappear in the next twenty-four hours, I willpromise you that no one will hinder you.""And then it will all come out?""Certainly it will come out."The sailor flushed with anger."What sort of proposal is that to make a man? I know enough of law tounderstand that Mary would be held as accomplice. Do you think I wouldleave her alone [650] to face the music while I slunk away? No, sir, letthem do their worst upon me, but for heaven's sake, Mr. Holmes, findsome way of keeping my poor Mary out of the courts."Holmes for a second time held out his hand to the sailor."I was only testing you, and you ring true every time. Well, it is a greatresponsibility that I take upon myself, but I have given Hopkins anexcellent hint, and if he can't avail himself of it I can do no more. Seehere, Captain Crocker, we'll do this in due form of law. You are theprisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who was more eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentleman ofthe jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find the prisoner guilty ornot guilty?""Not guilty, my lord," said I."Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Crocker. So long asthe law does not find some other victim you are safe from me. Come backto this lady in a year, and may her future and yours justify us in thejudgment which we have pronounced this night!"