Sherlock Holmes. The Complete Stories

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Sherlock Holmes. The Complete Stories Page 112

by Arthur Conan Doyle


  "There was a pause then for about ten minutes, as if the person were waiting to see whether the noise had awakened me. Then I heard a gentle creaking as the window was very slowly opened. I could stand it no longer, for my nerves are not what they used to be. I sprang out of bed and flung open the shutters. A man was crouching at the window. I could see little of him, for he was gone like a flash. He was wrapped in some sort of cloak which came across the lower part of his face. One thing only I am sure of, and that is that he had some weapon in his hand. It looked to me like a long knife. I distinctly saw the gleam of it as he turned to run."

  "This is most interesting," said Holmes. "Pray what did you do then?"

  "I should have followed him through the open window if I had been stronger. As it was, I rang the bell and roused the house. It took me some little time, for the bell rings in the kitchen and the servants all sleep upstairs. I shouted, however, and that brought Joseph down, and he roused the others. Joseph and the groom found marks on the bed outside the window, but the weather has been so dry lately that they found it hopeless to follow the trail across the grass. There's a place, however, on the wooden fence which skirts the road which shows signs, they tell me, as if some one had got over, and had snapped the top of the rail in doing so. I have said nothing to the local police yet, for I thought I had best have your opinion first."

  This tale of our client's appeared to have an extraordinary effect upon Sherlock Holmes. He rose from his chair and paced about the room in uncontrollable excitement.

  "Misfortunes never come single," said Phelps, smiling, though it was evident that his adventure had somewhat shaken him.

  "You have certainly had your share," said Holmes. "Do you think you could walk round the house with me?"

  "Oh, yes, I should like a little sunshine. Joseph will come, too."

  "And I also," said Miss Harrison.

  "I am afraid not," said Holmes, shaking his head. "I think I must ask you to remain sitting exactly where you are."

  The young lady resumed her seat with an air of displeasure. Her brother, however, had joined us and we set off all four together. We passed round the lawn to the outside of the young diplomatist's window. There were, as he had said, marks upon the bed, but they were hopelessly blurred and vague. Holmes stopped over them for an instant, and then rose shrugging his shoulders.

  "I don't think any one could make much of this," said he. "Let us go round the house and see why this particular room was chose by the burglar. I should have thought those larger windows of the drawing-room and dining-room would have had more attractions for him."

  "They are more visible from the road," suggested Mr. Joseph Harrison.

  "Ah, yes, of course. There is a door here which he might have attempted. What is it for?"

  "It is the side entrance for trades-people. Of course it is locked at night."

  "Have you ever had an alarm like this before?"

  "Never," said our client.

  "Do you keep plate in the house, or anything to attract burglars?"

  "Nothing of value."

  Holmes strolled round the house with his hands in his pockets and a negligent air which was unusual with him.

  "By the way," said he to Joseph Harrison, "you found some place, I understand, where the fellow scaled the fence. Let us have a look at that!"

  The plump young man led us to a spot where the top of one of the wooden rails had been cracked. A small fragment of the wood was hanging down. Holmes pulled it off and examined it critically.

  "Do you think that was done last night? It looks rather old, does it not?"

  "Well, possibly so."

  "There are no marks of any one jumping down upon the other side. No, I fancy we shall get no help here. Let us go back to the bedroom and talk the matter over."

  Percy Phelps was walking very slowly, leaning upon the arm of his future brother-in-law. Holmes walked swiftly across the lawn, and we were at the open window of the bedroom long before the others came up.

  "Miss Harrison," said Holmes, speaking with the utmost intensity of manner, "you must stay where you are all day. Let nothing prevent you from staying where you are all day. It is of the utmost importance."

  "Certainly, if you wish it, Mr. Holmes," said the girl in astonishment.

  "When you go to bed lock the door of this room on the outside and keep the key. Promise to do this."

  "But Percy?"

  "He will come to London with us."

  "And am I to remain here?"

  "It is for his sake. You can serve him. Quick! Promise!"

  She gave a quick nod of assent just as the other two came up.

  "Why do you sit moping there, Annie?" cried her brother. "Come out into the sunshine!"

  "No, thank you, Joseph. I have a slight headache and this room is deliciously cool and soothing."

  "What do you propose now, Mr. Holmes?" asked our client.

  "Well, in investigating this minor affair we must not lose sight of our main inquiry. It would be a very great help to me if you would come up to London with us."

  "At once?"

  "Well, as soon as you conveniently can. Say in an hour."

  "I feel quite strong enough, if I can really be of any help."

  "The greatest possible."

  "Perhaps you would like me the stay there to-night?"

  "I was just going to propose it."

  "Then, if my friend of the night comes to revisit me, he will find the bird flown. We are all in your hands, Mr. Holmes, and you must tell us exactly what you would like done. Perhaps you would prefer that Joseph came wit us so as to look after me?"

  "Oh, no; my friend Watson is a medical man, you know, and he'll look after you. We'll have our lunch here, if you will permit us, and then we shall al three set off for town together."

  It was arranged as he suggested, though Miss Harrison excused herself from leaving the bedroom, in accordance with Holmes's suggestion. What the object of my friend's manoeuvres was I could not conceive, unless it were to keep the lady away from Phelps, who, rejoiced by his returning health and by the prospect of action, lunched with us in the dining-room. Holmes had still more startling surprise for us, however, for, after accompanying us down to the station and seeing us into our carriage, he calmly announced that he had no intention of leaving Woking.

  "There are one or two small points which I should desire to clear up before I go," said he. "Your absence, Mr. Phelps, will in some ways rather assist me. Watson, when you reach London you would oblige me by driving at once to Baker Street with our friend here, and remaining with him until I see you again. It is fortunate that you are old school-fellows, as you must have much to talk over. Mr. Phelps can have the spare bedroom to-night, and I will be with you in time for breakfast, for there is a train which will take me into Waterloo at eight."

  "But how about our investigation in London?" asked Phelps, ruefully.

  "We can do that to-morrow. I think that just at present I can be of more immediate use here."

  "You might tell them at Briarbrae that I hope to be back to-morrow night," cried Phelps, as we began to move from the platform.

  "I hardly expect to go back to Briarbrae," answered Holmes, and waved his hand to us cheerily as we shot out from the station.

  Phelps and I talked it over on our journey, but neither of us could devise a satisfactory reason for this new development.

  "I suppose he wants to find out some clue as to the burglary last night, if a burglar it was. For myself, I don't believe it was an ordinary thief."

  "What is your own idea, then?"

  "Upon my word, you may put it down to my weak nerves or not, but I believe there is some deep political intrigue going on around me, and that for some reason that passes my understanding my life is aimed at by the conspirators. It sounds high-flown and absurd, but consider the fats! Why should a thief try to break in at a bedroom window, where there could be no hope of any plunder, and why should he come with a long knife in his hand?"<
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  "You are sure it was not a house-breaker's jimmy?"

  "Oh, no, it was a knife. I saw the flash of the blade quite distinctly."

  "But why on earth should you be pursued with such animosity?"

  "Ah, that is the question."

  "Well, if Holmes takes the same view, that would account for his action, would it not? Presuming that your theory is correct, if he can lay his hands upon the man who threatened you last night he will have gone a long way towards finding who took the naval treaty. It is absurd to suppose that you have two enemies, one of whom robs you, while the other threatens your life."

  "But Holmes said that he was not going to Briarbrae."

  "I have known him for some time," said I, "but I never knew him do anything yet without a very good reason," and with that our conversation drifted off on to other topics.

  But it was a weary day for me. Phelps was still weak after his long illness, and his misfortune made him querulous and nervous. In vain I endeavored to interest him in Afghanistan, in India, in social questions, in anything which might take his mind out of the groove. He would always come back to his lost treaty, wondering, guessing, speculating, as to what Holmes was doing, what steps Lord Holdhurst was taking, what news we should have in the morning. As the evening wore on his excitement became quite painful.

  "You have implicit faith in Holmes?" he asked.

  "I have seen him do some remarkable things."

  "But he never brought light into anything quite so dark as this?"

  "Oh, yes; I have known him solve questions which presented fewer clues than yours."

  "But not where such large interests are at stake?"

  "I don't know that. To my certain knowledge he has acted on behalf of three of the reigning houses of Europe in very vital matters."

  "But you know him well, Watson. He is such an inscrutable fellow that I never quite know what to make of him. Do you think he is hopeful? Do you think he expects to make a success of it?"

  "He has said nothing."

  "That is a bad sign."

  "On the contrary, I have noticed that when he is off the trail he generally says so. It is when he is on a scent and is not quite absolutely sure yet that it is the right one that he is most taciturn. Now, my dear fellow, we can't help matter by making ourselves nervous about them, so let me implore you to go to bed and so be fresh for whatever may await us to-morrow."

  I was able at last to persuade my companion to take my advice, though I knew from his excited manner that there was not much hope of sleep for him. Indeed, his mood was infectious, for I lay tossing half the night myself, brooding over this strange problem, and inventing a hundred theories, each of which was more impossible than the last. Why had Holmes remained at Woking? Why had he asked Miss Harrison to remain in the sick-room all day? Why had he been so careful not to inform the people at Briarbrae that he intended to remain near them? I cudgelled my brains until I fell asleep in the endeavor to find some explanation which would cover all these facts.

  It was seven o'clock when I awoke, and I set off at once for Phelps's room, to find him haggard and spent after a sleepless night. His first question was whether Holmes had arrived yet.

  "He'll be here when he promised," said I, "and not an instant sooner or later."

  And my words were true, for shortly after eight a hansom dashed up to the door and our friend got out of it. Standing in the window we saw that his left hand was swathed in a bandage and that his face was very grim and pale. He entered the house, but it was some little time before he came upstairs.

  "He looks like a beaten man," cried Phelps.

  I was forced to confess that he was right. "After all," said I, "the clue of the matter lies probably here in town."

  Phelps gave a groan.

  "I don't know how it is," said he, "but I had hoped for so much from his return. But surely his hand was not tied up like that yesterday. What can be the matter?"

  "You are not wounded, Holmes?" I asked, as my friend entered the room.

  "Tut, it is only a scratch through my own clumsiness," he answered, nodding his good-mornings to us. "This case of yours, Mr. Phelps, is certainly one of the darkest which I have ever investigated."

  "I feared that you would find it beyond you."

  "It has been a most remarkable experience."

  "That bandage tells of adventures," said I. "Won't you tell us what has happened?"

  "After breakfast, my dear Watson. Remember that I have breathed thirty mile of Surrey air this morning. I suppose that there has been no answer from my cabman advertisement? Well, well, we cannot expect to score every time."

  The table was all laid, and just as I was about to ring Mrs. Hudson entered wit the tea and coffee. A few minutes later she brought in three covers, and we all drew up to the table, Holmes ravenous, I curious, and Phelps in the gloomiest state of depression.

  "Mrs. Hudson has risen to the occasion," said Holmes, uncovering a dish of curried chicken. "Her cuisine is a little limited, but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotch-woman. What have you here, Watson?"

  "Ham and eggs," I answered.

  "Good! What are you going to take, Mr. Phelps — curried fowl or eggs, or will you help yourself?"

  "Thank you. I can eat nothing," said Phelps.

  "Oh, come! Try the dish before you."

  "Thank you, I would really rather not."

  "Well, then," said Holmes, with a mischievous twinkle, "I suppose that you have no objection to helping me?"

  Phelps raised the cover, and as hi did so he uttered a scream, and sat there staring with a face as white as the plate upon which he looked. Across the centre of it was lying a little cylinder of blue-grey paper. He caught it up, devoured it with his eyes, and then danced madly about the room, passing it to his bosom and shrieking out in his delight. Then he fell back into an arm-chair so limp and exhausted with his own emotions that we had to pour brandy down his throat to keep him from fainting.

  "There! there!" said Holmes, soothing, patting him upon the shoulder. "It was too bad to spring it on you like this, but Watson here will tell you that I never can resist a touch of the dramatic."

  Phelps seized his hand and kissed it. "God bless you!" he cried. "You have saved my honour."

  "Well, my own was at stake, you know," said Holmes. "I assure you it is just as hateful to me to fail in a case as it can be to you to blunder over a commission."

  Phelps thrust away the precious document into the innermost pocket of his coat.

  "I have not the heart to interrupt your breakfast any further, and yet I am dying to know how you got it and where it was."

  Sherlock Holmes swallowed a cup of coffee, and turned his attention to the ham and eggs. Then he rose, lit his pipe, and settled himself down into his chair.

  "I'll tell you what I did first, and how I came to do it afterwards," said he. "After leaving you at the station I went for a charming walk through some admirable Surrey scenery to a pretty little village called Ripley, where I had my tea at an inn, and took the precaution of filling my flask and of putting a paper of sandwiches in my pocket. There I remained until evening, when I set off for Woking again, and found myself in the high-road outside Briarbrae just after sunset.

  "Well, I waited until the road was clear — it is never a very frequented one at any time, I fancy — and then I clambered over the fence into the grounds."

  "Surely the gate was open!" ejaculated Phelps.

  "Yes, but I have a peculiar taste in these matters. I chose the place where the three fir-trees stand, and behind their screen I got over without the least chance of any one in the house being able to see me. I crouched down among the bushes on the other side, and crawled from one to the other — witness the disreputable state of my trouser knees — until I had reached the clump of rhododendrons just opposite to your bedroom window. There I squatted down and awaited developments.

  "The blind was not down in your room, and I could see Miss Harrison sitting ther
e reading by the table. It was quarter-past ten when she closed her book, fastened the shutters, and retired.

  "I heard her shut the door, and felt quite sure that she had turned the key in the lock."

  "The key!" ejaculated Phelps.

  "Yes; I had given Miss Harrison instructions to lock the door on the outside and take the key with her when she went to bed. She carried out every one of my injunctions to the letter, and certainly without her cooperation you would not have that paper in you coat-pocket. She departed then and the lights went out, and I was left squatting in the rhododendron-bush.

  "The night was fine, but still it was a very weary vigil. Of course it has the sort of excitement about it that the sportsman feels when he lies beside the water-course and waits for the big game. It was very long, though — almost as long, Watson, as when you and I waited in that deadly room when we looked into the little problem of the Speckled Band. There was a church-clock down at Woking which struck the quarters, and I thought more than once that it had stopped. At last however about two in the morning, I suddenly heard the gentle sound of a bolt being pushed back and the creaking of a key. A moment later the servant's door was opened, and Mr. Joseph Harrison stepped out into the moonlight."

  "Joseph!" ejaculated Phelps.

  "He was bare-headed, but he had a black coat thrown over his shoulder so that he could conceal his face in an instant if there were any alarm. He walked on tiptoe under the shadow of the wall, and when he reached the window he worked a long-bladed knife through the sash and pushed back the catch. Then he flung open the window, and putting his knife through the crack in the shutters, he thrust the bar up and swung them open.

 

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