Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes THE THREE GABLES

I DON'T think that any of my adventures with Mr. Sherlock Holmesopened quite so abruptly, or so dramatically, as that which I associatewith The Three Gables. I had not seen Holmes for some days and had noidea of the new channel into which his activities had been directed. Hewas in a chatty mood that morning, however, and had just settled me intothe well-worn low armchair on one side of the fire, while he had curleddown with his pipe in his mouth upon the opposite chair, when our visitorarrived. If I had said that a mad bull had arrived it would give a clearerimpression of what occurred.The door had flown open and a huge negro had burst into the room. Hewould have been a comic figure if he had not been terrific, for he wasdressed in a very loud gray check suit with a flowing salmon-coloured tie.His broad face and flattened nose were thrust forward, as his sullen darkeyes, with a smouldering gleam of malice in them, turned from one of usto the other."Which of you gen'l'men is Masser Holmes?" he asked.Holmes raised his pipe with a languid smile."Oh! it's you, is it?" said our visitor, coming with an unpleasant,stealthy step round the angle of the table. "See here, Masser Holmes, youkeep your hands out of other folks' business. Leave folks to manage theirown affairs. Got that, Masser Holmes?""Keep on talking," said Holmes. "It's fine.""Oh! it's fine, is it?" growled the savage. "It won't be so damn fine if Ihave to trim you up a bit. I've handled your kind before now, and theydidn't look fine when I was through with them. Look at that, MasserHolmes!"He swung a huge knotted lump of a fist under my friend's nose.Holmes examined it closely with an air of great interest. "Were you bornso?" he asked. "Or did it come by degrees?"It may have been the icy coolness of my friend, or it may have been theslight clatter which I made as I picked up the poker. In any case, ourvisitor's manner became less flamboyant."Well, I've given you fair warnin'," said he. "I've a friend that'sinterested out Harrow way-you know what I'm meaning-and he don'tintend to have no buttin' in by you. Got that? You ain't the law, and Iain't the law either, and if you come in I'll be on hand also. Don't youforget it.""I've wanted to meet you for some time," said Holmes. "I won't askyou to sit down, for I don't like the smell of you, but aren't you SteveDixie, the bruiser?""That's my name, Masser Holmes, and you'll get put through it for sureif you give me any lip.""It is certainly the last thing you need," said Holmes, staring at ourvisitor's hideous mouth. "But it was the killing of young Perkins outsidethe Holborn Bar- - What! you're not going?"The negro had sprung back, and his face was leaden. "I won't listen to no such talk," said he. "What have I to do with this 'ere Perkins, MasserHolmes? I was trainin' at the Bull Ring in Birmingham when this boydone gone get into trouble."[1024] "Yes, you'll tell the magistrate about it, Steve," said Holmes."I've been watching you and Barney Stockdale- -""So help me the Lord! Masser Holmes- -""That's enough. Get out of it. I'll pick you up when I want you.""Good-mornin', Masser Holmes. I hope there ain't no hard feelin'sabout this 'ere visit?""There will be unless you tell me who sent you.""Why, there ain't no secret about that, Masser Holmes. It was that samegen'l'man that you have just done gone mention.""And who set him on to it?""S'elp me. I don't know, Masser Holmes. He just say, 'Steve, you gosee Mr. Holmes, and tell him his life ain't safe if he go down Harrowway.' That's the whole truth." Without waiting for any furtherquestioning, our visitor bolted out of the room almost as precipitately ashe had entered. Holmes knocked out the ashes of his pipe with a quietchuckle."I am glad you were not forced to break his woolly head, Watson. Iobserved your manoeuvres with the poker. But he is really rather aharmless fellow, a great muscular, foolish, blustering baby, and easilycowed, as you have seen. He is one of the Spencer John gang and hastaken part in some dirty work of late which I may clear up when I havetime. His immediate principal, Barney, is a more astute person. Theyspecialize in assaults, intimidation, and the like. What I want to know is,who is at the back of them on this particular occasion?""But why do they want to intimidate you?""It is this Harrow Weald case. It decides me to look into the matter, forif it is worth anyone's while to take so much trouble, there must besomething in it.""But what is it?""I was going to tell you when we had this comic interlude. Here is Mrs.Maberley's note. If you care to come with me we will wire her and go outat once."DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES [I read]:I have had a succession of strange incidents occur to me inconnection with this house, and I should much value your advice.You would find me at home any time to-morrow. The house iswithin a short walk of the Weald Station. I believe that my latehusband, Mortimer Maberley, was one of your early clients.Yours faithfully,MARY MABERLEY.The address was "The Three Gables, Harrow Weald.""So that's that!" said Holmes. "And now, if you can spare the time,Watson, we will get upon our way."A short railway journey, and a shorter drive, brought us to the house, abrick and timber villa, standing in its own acre of undeveloped grassland.Three small projections above the upper windows made a feeble attemptto justify its name. Behind was a grove of melancholy, half-grown pines,and the whole aspect of the place was poor and depressing. None the less,we found the house to be well furnished, and the lady who received uswas a most engaging elderly person, who bore every mark of refinementand culture."I remember your husband well, madam," said Holmes, "though it issome years since he used my services in some trifling matter."[1025] "Probably you would be more familiar with the name of my sonDouglas."Holmes looked at her with great interest."Dear me! Are you the mother of Douglas Maberley? I knew himslightly. But of course all London knew him. What a magnificent creaturehe was! Where is he now?""Dead, Mr. Holmes, dead! He was attache at Rome, and he died thereof pneumonia last month.""I am sorry. One could not connect death with such a man. I have neverknown anyone so vitally alive. He lived intensely-every fibre of him!""Too intensely, Mr. Holmes. That was the ruin of him. You rememberhim as he was-debonair and splendid. You did not see the moody,morose, brooding creature into which he developed. His heart wasbroken. In a single month I seemed to see my gallant boy turn into a wornout cynical man.""A love affair-a woman?""Or a fiend. Well, it was not to talk of my poor lad that I asked you tocome, Mr. Holmes.""Dr. Watson and I are at your service.""There have been some very strange happenings. I have been in thishouse more than a year now, and as I wished to lead a retired life I haveseen little of my neighbours. Three days ago I had a call from a man whosaid that he was a house agent. He said that this house would exactly suita client of his, and that if I would part with it money would be no object.It seemed to me very strange as there are several empty houses on themarket which appear to be equally eligible, but naturally I was interestedin what he said. I therefore named a price which was five hundred poundsmore than I gave. He at once closed with the offer, but added that hisclient desired to buy the furniture as well and would I put a price upon it.Some of this furniture is from my old home, and it is, as you see, verygood, so that I named a good round sum. To this also he at once agreed. Ihad always wanted to travel, and the bargain was so good a one that itreally seemed that I should be my own mistress for the rest of my life."Yesterday the man arrived with the agreement all drawn out. Luckily Ishowed it to Mr. Sutro, my lawyer, who lives in Harrow. He said to me, 'This is a very strange document. Are you aware that if you sign it youcould not legally take anything out of the house-not even your ownprivate possessions?' When the man came again in the evening I pointedthis out, and I said that I meant only to sell the furniture." 'No, no, everything,' said he." 'But my clothes? My jewels?'" 'Well, well, some concession might be made for your personaleffects. But nothing shall go out of the house unchecked. My client is avery liberal man, but he has his fads and his own way of doing things. Itis everything or nothing with him.'" 'Then it must be nothing,' said I. And there the matter was left, butthe whole thing seemed to me to be so unusual that I thought- -"Here we had a very extraordinary interruption.Holmes raised his hand for silence. Then he strode across the room,flung open the door, and dragged in a great gaunt woman whom he hadseized by the shoulder. She entered with ungainly struggle like some hugeawkward chicken, torn, squawking, out of its coop.[1026] "Leave me alone! What are you a-doin' of?" she screeched."Why, Susan, what is this?""Well, ma'am, I was comin' in to ask if the visitors was stayin' forlunch when this man jumped out at me.""I have been listening to her for the last five minutes, but did not wishto interrupt your most interesting narrative. Just a little wheezy, Susan,are you not? You breathe too heavily for that kind of work." Susan turned a sulky but amazed face upon her captor. "Who be you,anyhow, and what right have you a-pullin' me about like this?""It was merely that I wished to ask a question in your presence. Didyou, Mrs. Maberley, mention to anyone that you were going to write tome and consult me?""No, Mr. Holmes, I did not.""Who posted your letter?""Susan did.""Exactly. Now, Susan, to whom was it that you wrote or sent a messageto say that your mistress was asking advice from me?""It's a lie. I sent no message.""Now, Susan, wheezy people may not live long, you know. It's awicked thing to tell fibs. Whom did you tell?""Susan!" cried her mistress, "I believe you are a bad, treacherouswoman. I remember now that I saw you speaking to someone over thehedge.""That was my own business," said the woman sullenly."Suppose I tell you that it was Barney Stockdale to whom you spoke?"said Holmes."Well, if you know, what do you want to ask for?""I was not sure, but I know now. Well now, Susan, it will be worth tenpounds to you if you will tell me who is at the back of Barney.""Someone that could lay down a thousand pounds for every ten youhave in the world.""So, a rich man? No; you smiled-a rich woman. Now we have got sofar, you may as well give the name and earn the tenner.""I'll see you in hell first.""Oh, Susan! Language!""I am clearing out of here. I've had enough of you all. I'll send for mybox to-morrow." She flounced for the door."Good-bye, Susan. Paregoric is the stuff. . . . Now," he continued,turning suddenly from lively to severe when the door had closed behindthe flushed and angry woman, "this gang means business. Look how closethey play the game. Your letter to me had the 10 P. M. postmark. And yetSusan passes the word to Barney. Barney has time to go to his employerand get instructions; he or she-I incline to the latter from Susan's grinwhen she thought I had blundered-forms a plan. Black Steve is called in,and I am warned off by eleven o'clock next morning. That's quick work,you know.""But what do they want?""Yes, that's the question. Who had the house before you?""A retired sea captain called Ferguson.""Anything remarkable about him?""Not that ever I heard of.""I was wondering whether he could have buried something. Of course,when [1027] people bury treasure nowadays they do it in the Post-Officebank. But there are always some lunatics about. It would be a dull worldwithout them. At first I thought of some buried valuable. But why, in thatcase, should they want your furniture? You don't happen to have a Raphael or a first folio Shakespeare without knowing it?""No, I don't think I have anything rarer than a Crown Derby tea-set.""That would hardly justify all this mystery. Besides, why should theynot openly state what they want? If they covet your tea-set, they cansurely offer a price for it without buying you out, lock, stock, and barrel.No, as I read it, there is something which you do not know that you have,and which you would not give up if you did know.""That is how I read it," said I."Dr. Watson agrees, so that settles it.""Well, Mr. Holmes, what can it be?""Let us see whether by this purely mental analysis we can get it to afiner point. You have been in this house a year.""Nearly two.""All the better. During this long period no one wants anything fromyou. Now suddenly within three or four days you have urgent demands.What would you gather from that?""It can only mean," said I, "that the object, whatever it may be, hasonly just come into the house.""Settled once again," said Holmes. "Now, Mrs. Maberley, has anyobject just arrived?""No, I have bought nothing new this year.""Indeed! That is very remarkable. Well, I think we had best let mattersdevelop a little further until we have clearer data. Is that lawyer of yours acapable man?""Mr. Sutro is most capable.""Have you another maid, or was the fair Susan, who has just bangedyour front door, alone?""I have a young girl.""Try and get Sutro to spend a night or two in the house. You mightpossibly want protection.""Against whom?""Who knows? The matter is certainly obscure. If I can't find what theyare after, I must approach the matter from the other end and try to get atthe principal. Did this house-agent man give any address?""Simply his card and occupation. Haines-Johnson, Auctioneer andValuer.""I don't think we shall find him in the directory. Honest business mendon't conceal their place of business. Well, you will let me know anyfresh development. I have taken up your case, and you may rely upon itthat I shall see it through."As we passed through the hall Holmes's eyes, which missed nothing,lighted upon several trunks and cases which were piled in a corner. Thelabels shone out upon them." 'Milano.' 'Lucerne.' These are from Italy.""They are poor Douglas's things.""You have not unpacked them? How long have you had them?""They arrived last week."[1028] "But you said-why, surely this might be the missing link. Howdo we know that there is not something of value there?" "There could not possibly be, Mr. Holmes. Poor Douglas had only hispay and a small annuity. What could he have of value?"Holmes was lost in thought."Delay no longer, Mrs. Maberley," he said at last. "Have these thingstaken upstairs to your bedroom. Examine them as soon as possible andsee what they contain. I will come to-morrow and hear your report."It was quite evident that The Three Gables was under very closesurveillance, for as we came round the high hedge at the end of the lanethere was the negro prize-fighter standing in the shadow. We came onhim quite suddenly, and a grim and menacing figure he looked in thatlonely place. Holmes clapped his hand to his pocket."Lookin' for your gun, Masser Holmes?""No, for my scent-bottle, Steve.""You are funny, Masser Holmes, ain't you?""It won't be funny for you, Steve, if I get after you. I gave you fairwarning this morning.""Well, Masser Holmes, I done gone think over what you said, and Idon't want no more talk about that affair of Masser Perkins. S'pose I canhelp you, Masser Holmes, I will.""Well, then, tell me who is behind you on this job.""So help me the Lord! Masser Holmes, I told you the truth before. Idon't know. My boss Barney gives me orders and that's all.""Well, just bear in mind, Steve, that the lady in that house, andeverything under that roof, is under my protection. Don't forget it.""All right, Masser Holmes. I'll remember.""I've got him thoroughly frightened for his own skin, Watson," Holmesremarked as we walked on. "I think he would double-cross his employerif he knew who he was. It was lucky I had some knowledge of theSpencer John crowd, and that Steve was one of them. Now, Watson, thisis a case for Langdale Pike, and I am going to see him now. When I getback I may be clearer in the matter."I saw no more of Holmes during the day, but I could well imagine howhe spent it, for Langdale Pike was his human book of reference upon all matters of social scandal. This strange, languid creature spent his wakinghours in the bow window of a St. James's Street club and was thereceiving-station as well as the transmitter for all the gossip of themetropolis. He made, it was said, a four-figure income by the paragraphswhich he contributed every week to the garbage papers which cater to aninquisitive public. If ever, far down in the turbid depths of London life,there was some strange swirl or eddy, it was marked with automaticexactness by this human dial upon the surface. Holmes discreetly helpedLangdale to knowledge, and on occasion was helped in turn.When I met my friend in his room early next morning, I was consciousfrom his bearing that all was well, but none the less a most unpleasantsurprise was awaiting us. It took the shape of the following telegram:Please come out at once. Client's house burgled in the night.Police in possession.SUTRO.[1029] Holmes whistled. "The drama has come to a crisis, and quickerthan I had expected. There is a great driving-power at the back of thisbusiness, Watson, which does not surprise me after what I have heard.This Sutro, of course, is her lawyer. I made a mistake, I fear, in not askingyou to spend the night on guard. This fellow has clearly proved a brokenreed. Well, there is nothing for it but another journey to Harrow Weald."We found The Three Gables a very different establishment to theorderly household of the previous day. A small group of idlers hadassembled at the garden gate, while a couple of constables wereexamining the windows and the geranium beds. Within we met a gray oldgentleman, who introduced himself as the lawyer, together with abustling, rubicund inspector, who greeted Holmes as an old friend."Well, Mr. Holmes, no chance for you in this case, I'm afraid. Just acommon, ordinary burglary, and well within the capacity of the poor oldpolice. No experts need apply.""I am sure the case is in very good hands," said Holmes. "Merely acommon burglary, you say?""Quite so. We know pretty well who the men are and where to findthem. It is that gang of Barney Stockdale, with the big nigger init-they've been seen about here.""Excellent! What did they get?""Well, they don't seem to have got much. Mrs. Maberley waschloroformed and the house was- - Ah! here is the lady herself."Our friend of yesterday, looking very pale and ill, had entered theroom, leaning upon a little maidservant."You gave me good advice, Mr. Holmes," said she, smiling ruefully."Alas, I did not take it! I did not wish to trouble Mr. Sutro, and so I wasunprotected.""I only heard of it this morning," the lawyer explained."Mr. Holmes advised me to have some friend in the house. I neglectedhis advice, and I have paid for it.""You look wretchedly ill," said Holmes. "Perhaps you are hardly equal to telling me what occurred.""It is all here," said the inspector, tapping a bulky notebook."Still, if the lady is not too exhausted- -""There is really so little to tell. I have no doubt that wicked Susan hadplanned an entrance for them. They must have known the house to aninch. I was conscious for a moment of the chloroform rag which wasthrust over my mouth, but I have no notion how long I may have beensenseless. When I woke, one man was at the bedside and another wasrising with a bundle in his hand from among my son's baggage, whichwas partially opened and littered over the floor. Before he could get awayI sprang up and seized him.""You took a big risk," said the inspector."I clung to him, but he shook me off, and the other may have struckme, for I can remember no more. Mary the maid heard the noise andbegan screaming out of the window. That brought the police, but therascals had got away.""What did they take?""Well, I don't think there is anything of value missing. I am sure therewas nothing in my son's trunks.""Did the men leave no clue?""There was one sheet of paper which I may have torn from the man thatI [1030] grasped. It was lying all crumpled on the floor. It is in my son'shandwriting.""Which means that it is not of much use," said the inspector. "Now if ithad been in the burglar's- -""Exactly," said Holmes. "What rugged common sense! None the less, Ishould be curious to see it."The inspector drew a folded sheet of foolscap from his pocketbook."I never pass anything, however trifling," said he with some pomposity."That is my advice to you, Mr. Holmes. In twenty-five years' experience Ihave learned my lesson. There is always the chance of finger-marks orsomething."Holmes inspected the sheet of paper."What do you make of it, Inspector?""Seems to be the end of some queer novel, so far as I can see.""It may certainly prove to be the end of a queer tale," said Holmes."You have noticed the number on the top of the page. It is two hundredand forty-five. Where are the odd two hundred and forty-four pages?""Well, I suppose the burglars got those. Much good may it do them!""It seems a queer thing to break into a house in order to steal suchpapers as that. Does it suggest anything to you, Inspector?""Yes, sir, it suggests that in their hurry the rascals just grabbed at whatcame first to hand. I wish them joy of what they got.""Why should they go to my son's things?" asked Mrs. Maberley."Well, they found nothing valuable downstairs, so they tried their luckupstairs. That is how I read it. What do you make of it, Mr. Holmes?""I must think it over, Inspector. Come to the window, Watson." Then,as we stood together, he read over the fragment of paper. It began in themiddle of a sentence and ran like this:"... face bled considerably from the cuts and blows, but it wasnothing to the bleeding of his heart as he saw that lovely face, theface for which he had been prepared to sacrifice his very life,looking out at his agony and humiliation. She smiled-yes, byHeaven! she smiled, like the heartless fiend she was, as he lookedup at her. It was at that moment that love died and hate was born.Man must live for something. If it is not for your embrace, mylady, then it shall surely be for your undoing and my completerevenge.""Queer grammar!" said Holmes with a smile as he handed the paperback to the inspector. "Did you notice how the 'he' suddenly changed to'my'? The writer was so carried away by his own story that he imaginedhimself at the supreme moment to be the hero.""It seemed mighty poor stuff," said the inspector as he replaced it in hisbook. "What! are you off, Mr. Holmes?""I don't think there is anything more for me to do now that the case isin such capable hands. By the way, Mrs. Maberley, did you say youwished to travel?""It has always been my dream, Mr. Holmes.""Where would you like to go-Cairo, Madeira, the Riviera?""Oh, if I had the money I would go round the world.""Quite so. Round the world. Well, good-morning. I may drop you a linein the evening." As we passed the window I caught a glimpse of theinspector's smile and shake of the head. "These clever fellows havealways a touch of madness." That was what I read in the inspector's smile.[1031] "Now, Watson, we are at the last lap of our little journey," saidHolmes when we were back in the roar of central London once more. "Ithink we had best clear the matter up at once, and it would be well thatyou should come with me, for it is safer to have a witness when you aredealing with such a lady as Isadora Klein."We had taken a cab and were speeding to some address in GrosvenorSquare. Holmes had been sunk in thought, but he roused himself suddenly."By the way, Watson, I suppose you see it all clearly?""No, I can't say that I do. I only gather that we are going to see the ladywho is behind all this mischief.""Exactly! But does the name Isadora Klein convey nothing to you? Shewas, of course, the celebrated beauty. There was never a woman to touchher. She is pure Spanish, the real blood of the masterful Conquistadors,and her people have been leaders in Pernambuco for generations. Shemarried the aged German sugar king, Klein, and presently found herselfthe richest as well as the most lovely widow upon earth. Then there wasan interval of adventure when she pleased her own tastes. She had severallovers, and Douglas Maberley, one of the most striking men in London,was one of them. It was by all accounts more than an adventure with him.He was not a society butterfly but a strong, proud man who gave andexpected all. But she is the 'belle dame sans merci' of fiction. When hercaprice is satisfied the matter is ended, and if the other party in the matter can't take her word for it she knows how to bring it home to him.""Then that was his own story- -""Ah! you are piecing it together now. I hear that she is about to marrythe young Duke of Lomond, who might almost be her son. His Grace'sma might overlook the age, but a big scandal would be a different matter,so it is imperative- - Ah! here we are."It was one of the finest corner-houses of the West End. A machine-likefootman took up our cards and returned with word that the lady was not athome. "Then we shall wait until she is," said Holmes cheerfully.The machine broke down."Not at home means not at home to you," said the footman."Good," Holmes answered. "That means that we shall not have to wait.Kindly give this note to your mistress."He scribbled three or four words upon a sheet of his notebook, foldedit, and handed it to the man."What did you say, Holmes?" I asked."I simply wrote: 'Shall it be the police, then?' I think that should passus in."It did-with amazing celerity. A minute later we were in an ArabianNights drawing-room, vast and wonderful, in a half gloom, picked outwith an occasional pink electric light. The lady had come, I felt, to thattime of life when even the proudest beauty finds the half light morewelcome. She rose from a settee as we entered: tall, queenly, a perfectfigure, a lovely mask-like face, with two wonderful Spanish eyes whichlooked murder at us both."What is this intrusion-and this insulting message?" she asked, holdingup the slip of paper."I need not explain, madame. I have too much respect for yourintelligence to do so-though I confess that intelligence has beensurprisingly at fault of late.""How so, sir?""By supposing that your hired bullies could frighten me from my work.Surely [1032] no man would take up my profession if it were not thatdanger attracts him. It was you, then, who forced me to examine the caseof young Maberley.""I have no idea what you are talking about. What have I to do withhired bullies?"Holmes turned away wearily."Yes, I have underrated your intelligence. Well, good-afternoon!""Stop! Where are you going?""To Scotland Yard."We had not got halfway to the door before she had overtaken us andwas holding his arm. She had turned in a moment from steel to velvet."Come and sit down, gentlemen. Let us talk this matter over. I feel thatI may be frank with you, Mr. Holmes. You have the feelings of agentleman. How quick a woman's instinct is to find it out. I will treat youas a friend.""I cannot promise to reciprocate, madame. I am not the law, but Irepresent justice so far as my feeble powers go. I am ready to listen, andthen I will tell you how I will act.""No doubt it was foolish of me to threaten a brave man like yourself.""What was really foolish, madame, is that you have placed yourself inthe power of a band of rascals who may blackmail or give you away.""No, no! I am not so simple. Since I have promised to be frank, I maysay that no one, save Barney Stockdale and Susan, his wife, have the leastidea who their employer is. As to them, well, it is not the first- -" Shesmiled and nodded with a charming coquettish intimacy."I see. You've tested them before.""They are good hounds who run silent.""Such hounds have a way sooner or later of biting the hand that feedsthem. They will be arrested for this burglary. The police are already afterthem.""They will take what comes to them. That is what they are paid for. Ishall not appear in the matter.""Unless I bring you into it.""No, no, you would not. You are a gentleman. It is a woman's secret.""In the first place, you must give back this manuscript."She broke into a ripple of laughter and walked to the fireplace. Therewas a calcined mass which she broke up with the poker. "Shall I give this back?" she asked. So roguish and exquisite did she look as she stoodbefore us with a challenging smile that I felt of all Holmes's criminals thiswas the one whom he would find it hardest to face. However, he wasimmune from sentiment."That seals your fate," he said coldly. "You are very prompt in youractions, madame, but you have overdone it on this occasion."She threw the poker down with a clatter."How hard you are!" she cried. "May I tell you the whole story?""I fancy I could tell it to you.""But you must look at it with my eyes, Mr. Holmes. You must realize itfrom the point of view of a woman who sees all her life's ambition aboutto be ruined at the last moment. Is such a woman to be blamed if sheprotects herself?""The original sin was yours.""Yes, yes! I admit it. He was a dear boy, Douglas, but it so chanced thathe could not fit into my plans. He wanted marriage-marriage, Mr.Holmes- with a penniless commoner. Nothing less would serve him.Then he became pertinacious. [1033] Because I had given he seemed tothink that I still must give, and to him only. It was intolerable. At last Ihad to make him realize it.""By hiring ruffians to beat him under your own window.""You do indeed seem to know everything. Well, it is true. Barney andthe boys drove him away, and were, I admit, a little rough in doing so.But what did he do then? Could I have believed that a gentleman woulddo such an act? He wrote a book in which he described his own story. I,of course, was the wolf; he the lamb. It was all there, under differentnames, of course; but who in all London would have failed to recognizeit? What do you say to that, Mr. Holmes?""Well, he was within his rights.""It was as if the air of Italy had got into his blood and brought with itthe old cruel Italian spirit. He wrote to me and sent me a copy of his bookthat I might have the torture of anticipation. There were two copies, hesaid -one for me, one for his publisher.""How did you know the publisher's had not reached him?""I knew who his publisher was. It is not his only novel, you know. Ifound out that he had not heard from Italy. Then came Douglas's suddendeath. So long as that other manuscript was in the world there was nosafety for me. Of course, it must be among his effects, and these would bereturned to his mother. I set the gang at work. One of them got into thehouse as servant. I wanted to do the thing honestly. I really and truly did.I was ready to buy the house and everything in it. I offered any price shecared to ask. I only tried the other way when everything else had failed.Now, Mr. Holmes, granting that I was too hard on Douglas-and, Godknows, I am sorry for it!-what else could I do with my whole future atstake?"Sherlock Holmes shrugged his shoulders."Well, well," said he, "I suppose I shall have to compound a felony asusual. How much does it cost to go round the world in first-class style?"The lady stared in amazement. "Could it be done on five thousand pounds?""Well, I should think so, indeed!""Very good. I think you will sign me a check for that, and I will seethat it comes to Mrs. Maberley. You owe her a little change of air.Meantime, lady" -he wagged a cautionary forefinger-"have a care! Havea care! You can't play with edged tools forever without cutting thosedainty hands."