XII.--The Adventure of the Abbey Grange.
It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning during the winter of '97that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was Holmes. Thecandle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face and told me at aglance 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'sdawn was beginning to appear, and we could dimly see the occasionalfigure of an early workman as he passed us, blurred and indistinct inthe opalescent London reek. Holmes nestled in silence into his heavycoat, and I was glad to do the same, for the air was most bitter andneither of us had broken our fast. It was not until we had consumed somehot tea at the station, and taken our places in the Kentish train, thatwe were sufficiently thawed, he to speak and I to listen. Holmes drew anote from his pocket and read it aloud:--
"Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent, "3.30 a.m. "MY DEAR MR. HOLMES,--I should be very glad of your immediate assistance in what promises to be a most remarkable case. It is something quite in your line. Except for releasing the lady I will see that everything is kept exactly as I have found it, but I beg you not to lose an instant, as it is difficult to leave Sir Eustace there. "Yours faithfully, STANLEY HOPKINS."
"Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion his summonshas been entirely justified," said Holmes. "I fancy that every one ofhis 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 scientificexercise 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 whichmay excite, 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 atext-book 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, and heis not an emotional man. Yes, I gather there has been violence, andthat the body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would nothave caused him to send for me. As to the release of the lady, it wouldappear that she has been locked in her room during the tragedy. Weare moving in high life, Watson; crackling paper, 'E.B.' monogram,coat-of-arms, picturesque address. I think that friend Hopkins will liveup to his reputation and that we shall have an interesting morning. Thecrime was committed before twelve last night."
"How can you possibly tell?"
"By an inspection of the trains and by reckoning the time. The localpolice had to be called in, they had to communicate with Scotland Yard,Hopkins had to go out, and he in turn had to send for me. All that makesa fair night's work. Well, here we are at Chislehurst Station, and weshall soon set our doubts at rest."
A drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes brought usto a 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 thelarge windows showed that modern changes had been carried out, and onewing of the house appeared to be entirely new. The youthful figure andalert, 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, forsince the lady has come to herself she has given so clear an account ofthe 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 doubtof it. 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 isthey, 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 themorning-room. Poor lady, she has had a most dreadful experience. Sheseemed half dead when I saw her first. I think you had best see herand hear her account of the facts. Then we will examine the dining-roomtogether."
Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person. Seldom have I seen so gracefula figure, so womanly a presence, and so beautiful a face. She was ablonde, 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 expressionof her beautiful features, showed that neither her wits nor her couragehad been shaken by her terrible experience. She was enveloped in aloose dressing-gown of blue and silver, but a black sequin-covereddinner-dress was hung 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 willtell these gentlemen what occurred. Have they been in the dining-roomyet?"
"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 inher hands. As she did so the loose gown fell back from her forearms.Holmes uttered 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.
"It is nothing. It has no connection with the hideous business of lastnight. 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 abouta year. 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 faultmay be partly mine. I was brought up in the freer, less conventionalatmosphere of South Australia, and this English life, with itsproprieties and its primness, is not congenial to me. But the mainreason lies in the one fact which is notorious to everyone, and that isthat Sir Eustace was a confirmed drunkard. To be with such a man for anhour is unpleasant. Can you imagine what it means for a sensitiveand high-spirited woman to be tied to him for day and night? It is asacrilege, a crime, a villainy to hold that such a marriage is binding.I say that these monstrous laws of yours will bring a curse upon theland--Heaven will not let such wickedness endure." For an instant shesat up, her cheeks flushed, and her eyes blazing from under the terriblemark upon her brow. Then the strong, soothing hand of the austere maiddrew her head down on to the cushion, and the wild anger died away intopassionate sobbing. At last she continued:--
"I will tell you about last night. You are aware, perhaps, that in thishouse all servants sleep in the modern wing. This central block is madeup of the dwelling-rooms, with the kitchen behind and our bedroom above.My maid Theresa sleeps above my room. There is no one else, and no soundcould alarm those who are in the farther wing. This must have been wellknown to the robbers, or they would not have acted as they did
.
"Sir Eustace retired about half-past ten. The servants had already goneto their quarters. Only my maid was up, and she had remained in her roomat 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 seethat all was right before I went upstairs. It was my custom to do thismyself, for, as I have explained, Sir Eustace was not always to betrusted. I went into the kitchen, the butler's pantry, the gun-room,the billiard-room, the drawing-room, and finally the dining-room. As Iapproached the window, which is covered with thick curtains, I suddenlyfelt the wind blow upon my face and realized that it was open. I flungthe curtain aside and found myself face to face with a broad-shouldered,elderly man who had just stepped into the room. The window is a longFrench one, which really forms a door leading to the lawn. I held mybedroom candle lit in my hand, and, by its light, behind the first man Isaw two others, who were in the act of entering. I stepped back, but thefellow was on me in an instant. He caught me first by the wrist and thenby the throat. I opened my mouth to scream, but he struck me a savageblow with his fist over the eye, and felled me to the ground. I musthave been unconscious for a few minutes, for when I came to myself Ifound that they had torn down the bell-rope and had secured me tightlyto the oaken chair which stands at the head of the dining-room table. Iwas so firmly bound that I could not move, and a handkerchief round mymouth prevented me from uttering any sound. It was at this instant thatmy unfortunate husband entered the room. He had evidently heard somesuspicious sounds, and he came prepared for such a scene as he found.He was dressed in his shirt and trousers, with his favourite blackthorncudgel in his hand. He rushed at one of the burglars, but another--itwas the elderly man--stooped, picked the poker out of the grate, andstruck him a horrible blow as he passed. He fell without a groan, andnever moved again. I fainted once more, but again it could only havebeen a very few minutes during which I was insensible. When I opened myeyes I found that they had collected the silver from the sideboard, andthey had drawn a bottle of wine which stood there. Each of them had aglass in his hand. I have already told you, have I not, that one waselderly, 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 still securely bound.Finally they withdrew, closing the window after them. It was quite aquarter of an hour before I got my mouth free. When I did so my screamsbrought the maid to my assistance. The other servants were soon alarmed,and we sent for the local police, who instantly communicated withLondon. That is really all that I can tell you, gentlemen, and I trustthat it will not be necessary for me to go over so painful a storyagain."
"Any questions, Mr. Holmes?" asked Hopkins.
"I will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall's patience andtime," said Holmes. "Before I go into the dining-room I should like tohear 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 by thelodge 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, tofind her, poor lamb, just as she says, and him on the floor with hisblood and brains over the room. It was enough to drive a woman out ofher wits, tied there, and her very dress spotted with him; but she neverwanted courage, did Miss Mary Fraser of Adelaide, and Lady Brackenstallof Abbey Grange hasn't learned new ways. You've questioned her longenough, you gentlemen, and now she is coming to her own room, just withher old Theresa, 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 asa baby, and came with her to England when they first left Australiaeighteen 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 measleswould experience something of the annoyance which I read in myfriend's eyes. Yet the scene in the dining-room of the Abbey Grange wassufficiently strange to arrest his attention and to recall his waninginterest.
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 farther 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, over-hanging oak mantelpiece. Besidethe fireplace was a heavy oaken chair with arms and cross-bars at thebottom. In and out through the open woodwork was woven a crimson cord,which was secured at each side to the crosspiece below. In releasing thelady 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 terribleobject which 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.He lay upon his back, his face upturned, with his white teeth grinningthrough his short black beard. His two clenched hands were raisedabove his 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.He had evidently been in his bed when the alarm had broken out, for hewore a foppish embroidered night-shirt, and his bare feet projected fromhis trousers. His head was horribly injured, and the whole room borewitness to the savage ferocity of the blow which had struck him down.Beside him lay the heavy poker, bent into a curve by the concussion.Holmes examined both it and the indescribable wreck which it hadwrought.
"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 the gang arehere I don't see how they can escape. We have the news at every seaportalready, and a reward will be offered before evening. What beats me ishow they could have done so mad a thing, knowing that the lady coulddescribe them, and that we could not fail to recognise the description."
"Exactly. One would have expected that they would have silenced LadyBrackenstall as well."
"They may not have realized," I suggested, "that she had recovered fromher 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 haveheard some queer stories about him."
"He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend whenhe was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom reallywent the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such times, and hewas capable of anything. From what I hear, in spite of all his wealthand his title, he very nearly came our way once or twice. There wasa 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,Theresa Wright; 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."
"How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he pull at abell-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 fellowmust have known the house and its habits. He must have perfectlyunderstood that the servants would all be in bed at that comparativelyearly hour, and that no one could possibly hear a bell ring in thekitchen. Therefore he must have been in close league with one of theservants. Surely that is evident. But there are eight servants, and allof good character."
"Other things being equal," said Holmes, "one would suspect the oneat whose 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 and threwit open. "There are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, and onewould not expect them. I see that these candles on the mantelpiece havebeen 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 offthe sideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they were themselves sodisturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack thehouse as they would otherwise have done."
"No doubt that is true. And yet they drank some wine, I understand."
"To steady their own nerves."
"Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been untouched, Isuppose?"
"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 bees-wing. The bottle stoodnear them, two-thirds full, and beside it lay a long, deeply-stainedcork. Its appearance and the dust upon the bottle showed that it was nocommon vintage 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-set eyes. 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 cork-screw.
"Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?"
"No; you remember that she was senseless at the moment when the bottlewas 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 examine the top of the cork youwill observe that the screw was driven in three times before the corkwas extracted. It has never been transfixed. This long screw wouldhave transfixed it and drawn it 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 hasspecial 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 appearto have your case very clear. You will let me know when Randall isarrested, and any further developments which may occur. I trust that Ishall soon have to congratulate you upon a successful conclusion. Come,Watson, I fancy that we may employ ourselves more profitably at home."
During our return journey I could see by Holmes's face that he was muchpuzzled by something which he had observed. Every now and then, by aneffort, he would throw off the impression and talk as if the matter wereclear, 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,just as our train was crawling out of a suburban station, he sprang onto the platform 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 possesscries out against it. It's wrong--it's all wrong--I'll swear that it'swrong. And yet the lady's story was complete, the maid's corroborationwas sufficient, the detail was fairly exact. What have I to put againstthat? Three wine-glasses, that is all. But if I had not taken things forgranted, if I had examined everything with the care which I would haveshown had we approached the case DE NOVO and had no cut-and-dried storyto warp my mind, would I not then have found something more definiteto go upon? Of course I should. Sit down on this bench, Watson, until atrain for Chislehurst arrives, and allow me to lay the evidence beforeyou, imploring you in the first instance to dismiss from your mind theidea that anything which the maid or her mistress may have said mustnecessarily be true. The lady's charming personality must not bepermitted to warp our judgment.
"Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at it 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 businessare, as a rule, only too glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quietwithout embarking on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusualfor burglars to operate at so early an hour; it is unusual for burglarsto strike a lady to prevent her screaming, since one would imagine thatwas the sure way to make her scream; it is unusual for them to commitmurder when their numbers are sufficient to overpower one man; it isunusual for them to be content with a limited plunder when there ismuch more within their reach; and finally I should say that it was veryunusual for such men to leave a bottle half empty. How do all theseunusuals strike you, Watson?"
"Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each of themis quite possible in itself. The most unusual thing of all, as it seemsto 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 couldnot give immediate notice of their escape. But at any rate I have shown,have I not, that there is a certain element of improbability aboutthe lady's story? And now on the top of this comes the incident of thewine-glasses."
"What about the wine-glasses?"
"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 bees-wing 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 bees-wing."
"Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable thatthe first two glasses were clear and the third heavily charged with it.There are two possible explanations, and only two. One is that after thesecond glass was filled the bottle was violently agitated, and so thethird glass received the bees-wing. 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 were pouredinto a third glass, so as to give the false impression that three peoplehad been here. In that way all the bees-wing would be in the last glass,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 inan instant 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 Chislehurst train."
The household of the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our return, butSherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had gone off to report tohead-quarters, took possession of the dining-room, locked the door uponthe inside, and devoted himself for two hours to one of those minuteand laborious investigations which formed the solid basis on which hisbrilliant edifices of deduction were reared. Seated in a corner like aninterested student who observes the demonstration of his professor,I followed every step of that remarkable research. The window, thecurtains, the carpet, the chair, the rope--each in turn was minutelyexamined and duly pondered. The body of the unfortunate baronet had beenremoved, but all else remained as we had seen it in the morning. Then,to my astonishment, Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece. Farabove his head hung the few inches of red cord which were still attachedto the wire. For a long time he gazed upward at it, and then in anattempt to get nearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket onthe wall. This brought his hand within a few inches of the broken end ofthe rope, but it was not this so much as the bracket itself which seemedto engage his attention. Finally he sprang down with an ejaculation ofsatisfaction.
"It's all right, Watson," said he. "We have got our case--one of themost remarkable in our collection. But, dear me, how slow-witted I havebeen, 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 as alion--witness the blow that bent that poker. Six foot three in height,active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers; finally, remarkablyquick-witted, for this whole ingenious story is of his concoction. Yes,Watson, we have come upon the handiwork of a very remarkable individual.And yet in that bell-rope he has given us a clue which should not haveleft us a 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.Why should 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 would nottear 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, puthis knee on the bracket--you will see the impression in the dust--and sogot his knife to bear upon the cord. I could not reach the place by atleast three inches, from which I infer that he is at least three inchesa bigger man than 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 comesthat mark? No, no; she was placed in the chair AFTER the death of herhusband. I'll wager that the black dress shows a corresponding mark tothis. We have not yet met our Waterloo, Watson, but this is our Marengo,for it begins in defeat and ends in victory. I should like now to have afew words with the nurse Theresa. We must be wary for awhile, if we areto get 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 callmy mistress a name, and I told him that he would not dare to speak so ifher brother had been there. Then it was that he threw it at me. He mighthave thrown a dozen if he had but left my bonny bird alone. He was forever ill-treating her, and she too proud to complain. She will not eventell me all that he has done to her. She never told me of those marks onher arm that you saw this morning, but I know very well that they comefrom a stab with a hat-pin. The sly fiend--Heaven forgive me that Ishould speak of him so, now that he is dead, but a fiend he was ifever one walked the earth. He was all honey when first we met him, onlyeighteen months ago, and we both feel as if it were eighteen years. Shehad only just arrived in London. Yes, it was her first voyage--she hadnever been from home before. He won her with his title and his moneyand his false London ways. If she made a mistake she has paid for it,if ever a woman did. What month did we meet him? Well, I tell you it wasjust after we arrived. We arrived in June, and it was July. They weremarried in January of last year. Yes, she is down in the morning-roomagain, and I have no doubt she will see you, but you must not ask toomuch of her, for she has gone through all that flesh and blood willstand."
Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but looked brighterthan before. The maid had entered with us, and began once more to fomentthe 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 thatyour story 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 that mymistress 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 apond in the park, and to this my friend led the way. It was frozenover, but a single hole was left for the convenience of a solitaryswan. Holmes gazed at it and then passed on to the lodge gate. Therehe scribbled a short note for Stanley Hopkins and left it with thelodge-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 willnot quite 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 not long in acquiring all the information which he needed. I
n Juneof '95 only one of their line had reached a home port. It was the ROCKOF GIBRALTAR, their largest and best boat. A reference to the passengerlist showed that Miss Fraser of Adelaide, with her maid, had made thevoyage in her. The boat was now on her way to Australia, somewhere tothe south of the Suez Canal. Her officers were the same as in '95,with one exception. The first officer, Mr. Jack Croker, had been made acaptain and was to take charge of their new ship, the BASS ROCK, sailingin two days' time from Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he waslikely to be in that morning for instructions, if we cared to wait forhim.
No; Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad to know moreabout his record and character.
His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in the fleet totouch him. As to his character, he was reliable on duty, but a wild,desperate fellow off the deck of his ship, hot-headed, excitable, butloyal, honest, and kind-hearted. That was the pith of the informationwith which Holmes left the office of the Adelaide-Southampton company.Thence he drove to Scotland Yard, but instead of entering he sat inhis cab with his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought. Finally hedrove round to the Charing Cross telegraph office, sent off a message,and then, at last, we made for Baker Street once more.
"No, I couldn't do it, Watson," said he, as we re-entered 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 ofEngland than with my own conscience. Let us know a little more before weact."
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 more difficult.What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and then throw it intothe 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,who merely took it for a blind as it were, then they would naturally beanxious to get rid of it."
"But why should such an idea cross your mind?"
"Well, I thought it was possible. When they came out through the Frenchwindow there was the pond, with one tempting little hole in the ice,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,I see it all now! It was early, there were folk upon the roads, theywere afraid of being seen with the silver, so they sank it in the pond,intending to return for it when the coast was clear. Excellent, Mr.Holmes--that is better than your idea of a blind."
"Quite so; you have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt that myown ideas were quite wild, but you must admit that they have ended indiscovering the silver."
"Yes, sir, yes. It was all your doing. But I have had a bad set-back."
"A set-back?"
"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 gangsof three 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 thecheerful blaze 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: whatI know is unofficial; what he knows is official. I have the right toprivate judgment, but he has none. He must disclose all, or he is atraitor to his service. In a doubtful case I would not put him in sopainful a position, and so I reserve my information until my own mind isclear upon the matter."
"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 verytall young 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 down someovermastering emotion.
"Sit down, Captain Croker. You got my telegram?"
Our visitor sank into an arm-chair 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."
"Give him a cigar," said Holmes. "Bite on that, Captain Croker, anddon't let your nerves run away with you. I should not sit here smokingwith you if I thought that you were a common criminal, you may be sureof that. Be frank with me, and we may do some good. Play tricks with 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 Grange lastnight--a TRUE account, mind you, with nothing added and nothing takenoff. I know so much already that if you go one inch off the straightI'll blow this police whistle from my window and the affair goes out ofmy hands for ever."
The sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg with his great,sun-burned hand.
"I'll chance it," he cried. "I believe you are a man of your word, anda white man, and I'll tell you the whole story. But one thing I will sayfirst. So far as I am concerned I regret nothing and I fear nothing, andI would do it all again and be proud of the job. Curse the beast, ifhe had as many lives as a cat he would owe them all to me! But it'sthe lady, Mary--Mary Fraser--for never will I call her by that accursedname. When I think of getting her into trouble, I who would give my lifejust to bring one smile to her dear face, it's that that turns my soulinto water. And yet--and yet--what less could I do? I'll tell you mystory, gentlemen, and then I'll ask you as man to man what less could Ido.
"I must go back a bit. You seem to know everything, so I expect that youknow 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 a timesince have I kneeled down in the darkness of the night watch and kissedthe deck of that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod it. She wasnever engaged to me. She treated me as fairly as ever a woman treateda man. I have no complaint to make. It was all love on my side, and allgood comradeship and friendship on hers. When we parted she was a freewoman, but I could never again be a free man.
"Next time I came back from se
a 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.I didn't grieve over her marriage. I was not such a selfish hound asthat. I just rejoiced that good luck had come her way, and that she hadnot thrown 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 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--andmet her 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,for she loved Mary and hated this villain almost as much as I did. Fromher I learned the ways of the house. Mary used to sit up reading in herown little room downstairs. I crept round there last night and scratchedat the window. At first she would not open to me, but in her heart Iknow that now she loves me, and she could not leave me in the frostynight. She whispered to me to come round to the big front window, andI found it open before me so as to let me into the dining-room. AgainI heard from her own lips things that made my blood boil, and againI cursed this brute who mishandled the woman that I loved. Well,gentlemen, I was standing with her just inside the window, in allinnocence, as Heaven is my judge, when he rushed like a madman into theroom, called her the vilest name that a man could use to a woman, andwelted her across the face with the stick he had in his hand. I hadsprung for the poker, and it was a fair fight between us. See here on myarm where his first blow fell. Then it was my turn, and I went throughhim as if he had been a rotten pumpkin. Do you think I was sorry? Not I!It was his life or mine, but far more than that it was his life or hers,for how could I leave her in the power of this madman? That was how Ikilled him. Was I wrong? Well, then, what would either of you gentlemenhave done if you had been in my position?"
"She had screamed when he struck her, and that brought old Theresa downfrom the room above. There was a bottle of wine on the sideboard, and Iopened it and poured a little between Mary's lips, for she was half deadwith the shock. Then I took a drop myself. Theresa was as cool asice, 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 looknatural, else they would wonder how in the world a burglar could havegot up there to cut it. Then I gathered up a few plates and pots ofsilver, to carry out the idea of a robbery, and there I left them withorders to give the alarm when I had a quarter of an hour's start. Idropped the silver into the pond and made off for Sydenham, feeling thatfor once in my life I had done a real good night's work. And that's thetruth and the whole truth, Mr. Holmes, if it costs me my neck."
Holmes smoked for some time in silence. Then he crossed the room andshook 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 onebut a sailor could have made the knots with which the cord was fastenedto the chair. Only once had this lady been brought into contact withsailors, and that was on her voyage, and it was someone of her own classof life, since she was trying hard to shield him and so showing that sheloved him. 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 Croker, 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 had as accomplice. Do you think I wouldleave her alone to face the music while I slunk away? No, sir; let themdo their worst upon me, but for Heaven's sake, Mr. Holmes, find some wayof 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 agreat responsibility that I take upon myself, but I have given Hopkinsan excellent hint, and if he can't avail himself of it I can do no more.See here, Captain Croker, we'll do this in due form of law. You are theprisoner. Watson, you are a British jury, and I never met a man who wasmore eminently fitted to represent one. I am the judge. Now, gentlemanof the jury, you have heard the evidence. Do you find the prisonerguilty or not guilty?"
"Not guilty, my lord," said I.
"Vox populi, vox Dei. You are acquitted, Captain Croker. So long as thelaw 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."
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THE STRAND MAGAZINE Vol. 28 DECEMBER, 1904 THE RETURN OF SHERLOCK HOLMES. By ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE.
The Return of Sherlock Holmes Page 12