UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN
31-OVERIS PENINSULAM AMNAM
1817
ARTES
SCIENTIA
VERITAS
LIBRARY
OF THE
TEXSIOR
CIRCUMSPICE
Gift of
Dr. Philip Parker









SHE SEIZED MY SLEEVE AND PULLED ME BACK WITH CONVULSIVE
STRENGTH


Copyright, 1893, by A. CONAN DOYLE.
Copyright, 1894, by HARPER & BROTHERS.
All rights reserved.


Spec. Colis. Lib.
Gift: Dr. Philip Parker
4.30-08
CONTENTS
PAGE
XIII..SILVER BLAZE .
1
XIV.-THE YELLOW FACE
XV.-THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
50
XVI.--THE “GLORIA SCOTT"
.
70
XVII.-THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
.
92
XVIII. --THE REIGATE PUZZLE
XIX.-THE CROOKED MAN
. 137
XX.—THE RESIDENT PATIENT. .
• 157
XXI.-THE GREEK INTERPRETER.
179
XXII.-THE NAVAL TREATY .
.
200
XXIII.---THE FINAL PROBLEM
• 239
NOTE.-The first twelve Adventures of Sherlock Holmes will be found
in the volume published by HARPER & BROTHERS, entitled "Adventures
of Sherlock Holmes.” It is uniform in size and price with “Memoirs of
Sherlock Holmes."


܀ ܗܘ


Adventure #111
SILVER BLAZE
66
AM afraid, Watson, that I shall have to go,"
said Holmes, as we sat down together to our
breakfast one morning.
“ Go! Where to?"
“To Dartmoor; to King's Pyland."
I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he
had not already been mixed up in this extraordinary case,
which was the one topic of conversation through the length
and breadth of England. For a whole day my companion
had rambled about the room with his chin upon his chest
and his brows knitted, charging and recharging his pipe with
the strongest black tobacco, and absolutely deaf to any of
my questions or remarks. Fresh editions of every paper had
been sent up by our news agent, only to be glanced over and
tossed down into a corner. Yet, silent as he was, I knew
perfectly weli what it was over which he was brooding.
There was but one problem before the public which could
challenge his powers of analysis, and that was the singular
disappearance of the favorite for the Wessex Cup, and the
tragic murder of its trainer. When, therefore, he suddenly
announced his intention of setting out for the scene of the
drama it was only what I had both expected and hoped for.
“I should be most happy to go down with you if I should
not be in the way,” said I.
“My dear Watson, you would confer a great favor upon
me by coming. And I think that your time will not be mis-
spent, for there are points about the case which promise to


MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
make it an absolutely unique one. We have, I think, just
time to catch our train at Paddington, and I will go further
into the matter upon our journey. You would oblige me by
bringing with you your very excellent field-glass."
And so it happened that an hour or so later I found my-
self in the corner of a first-class carriage Aying along en route
for Exeter, while Sherlock Holmes, with his sharp, eager face
framed in his ear-flapped travelling-cap, dipped rapidly into
the bundle of fresh papers which he had procured at Pad-
dington. We had left Reading far behind us before he thrust
the last one of them under the seat, and offered me his cigar-
case.
“We are going well," said he, looking out of the window
and glancing at his watch. “Our rate at present is fifty-three
and a half miles an hour."
“I have not observed the quarter-mile posts,” said I.
“Nor have I. But the telegraph posts upon this line are
sixty yards apart, and the calculation is a simple one. I pre-
sume that you have looked into this matter of the murder of
John Straker and the disappearance of Silver Blaze ?"
“I have seen what the Telegraph and the Chronicle have to
say."
“It is one of those cases where the art of the reasoner
should be used rather for the sifting of details than for the
acquiring of fresh evidence. The tragedy has been so un-
common, so complete, and of such personal importance to so
many people, that we are suffering from a plethora of surmise,
conjecture, and hypothesis. The difficulty is to detach the
framework of fact-of absolute undeniable fact-from the
embellishments of theorists and reporters. Then, having es-
tablished ourselves upon this sound basis, it is our duty to
see what inferences may be drawn and what are the special
points upon which the whole mystery turns. On Tuesday
evening I received telegrams from both Colonel Ross, the
owner of the horse, and from Inspector Gregory, who is look
ing after the case, inviting my co-operation."


SILVER BLAZE
3
“Tuesday evening !" I exclaimed. " And this is Thursday
morning. Why didn't you go down yesterday?"
“Because I made a blunder, my dear Watson-which is, I
am afraid, a more common occurrence than any one would
think who only knew me through your memoirs. The fact is
that I could not believe it possible that the most remarkable
horse in England could long remain concealed, especially in
so sparsely inhabited a place as the north of Dartmoor. From
hour to hour yesterday I expected to hear that he had been
found, and that his abductor was the murderer of John Stra-
ker. When, however, another morning had come, and I found
that beyond the arrest of young Fitzroy Simpson nothing had
been done, I felt that it was time for me to take action. Yet
in some ways I feel that yesterday has not been wasted.”
“You have formed a theory, then?”
“At least I have got a grip of the essential facts of the case.
I shall enumerate them to you, for nothing clears up a case
so much as stating it to another person, and I can hardly ex-
pect your co-operation if I do not show you the position from
which we start.”
I lay back against the cushions, puffing at my cigar, while
Holmes, leaning forward, with his long, thin forefinger check-
ing off the points upon the palm of his left hand, gave me a
sketch of the events which had led to our journey.
“Silver Blaze,” said he, “is from the Somomy stock, and
holds as brilliant a record as his famous ancestor. He is now
in his fifth year, and has brought in turn each of the prizes
of the turf to Colonel Ross, his fortunate owner. Up to the
time of the catastrophe he was the first favorite for the Wes-
sex Cup, the betting being three to one on him. He has
always, however, been a prime favorite with the racing public,
and has never yet disappointed them, so that even at those
odds enormous sums of money have been laid upon him. It
is obvious, therefore, that there were many people who had
the strongest interest in preventing Silver Blaze from being
there at the fall of the flag next Tuesday.


MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“The fact was, of course, appreciated at King's Pyland,
where the Colonel's training-stable is situated. Every pre-
caution was taken to guard the favorite. The trainer, John
Straker, is a retired jockey who rode in Colonel Ross's colors
before he became too heavy for the weighing-chair. He has
served the Colonel for five years as jockey and for seven as
trainer, and has always shown himself to be a zealous and
honest servant. Under him were three lads; for the estab-
lishment was a small one, containing only four horses in all.
One of these lads sat up each night in the stable, while the
others slept in the loft. All three bore excellent characters.
John Straker, who is a married man, lived in a small villa
about two hundred yards from the stables. He has no chil-
dren, keeps one maid-servant, and is comfortably off.
country round is very lonely, but about half a mile to the
north there is a small cluster of villas which have been built
by a Tavistock contractor for the use of invalids and others
who may wish to enjoy the pure Dartmoor air. Tavistock
itself lies two miles to the west, while across the moor, also
about two miles distant, is the larger training establishment
of Mapleton, which belongs to Lord Backwater, and is man-
aged by Silas Brown. In every other direction the moor is a
complete wilderness, inhabited only by a few roaming gypsies.
Such was the general situation last Monday night when the
catastrophe occurred.
“On that evening the horses had been exercised and wa-
tered as usual, and the stables were locked up at nine o'clock.
Two of the lads walked up to the trainer's house, where they
had supper in the kitchen, while the third, Ned Hunter, re-
mained on guard. At a few minutes after nine the maid,
Edith Baxter, carried down to the stables his supper, which
consisted of a dish of curried mutton. She took no liquid,
as there was a water-tap in the stables, and it was the rule
that the lad on duty should drink nothing else. The maid
carried a lantern with her, as it was very dark and the path
ran across the open moor.


SILVER BLAZE
5
Can you
“Edith Baxter was within thirty yards of the stables, when
a man appeared out of the darkness and called to her to stop.
As he stepped into the circle of yellow light thrown by the
lantern she saw that he was a person of gentlemanly bearing,
dressed in a gray suit of tweeds, with a cloth cap.
He wore
gaiters, and carried a heavy stick with a knob to it. She was
nost impressed, however, by the extreme pallor of his face
and by the nervousness of his manner. His age, she thought,
would be rather over thirty than under it.
tell me where I am ?' he asked. "I had almost
made up my mind to sleep on the moor, when I saw the light
of your lantern. '
“You are close to the King's Pyland training-stables,
said she.
“Oh, indeed! What a stroke of luck!' he cried. 'I un-
derstand that a stable-boy sleeps there alone every night.
Perhaps that is his supper which you are carrying to him.
Now I am sure that you would not be too proud to earn the
price of a new dress, would you?' He took a piece of white
paper folded up out of his waistcoat pocket. • See that the
boy has this to-night, and you shall have the prettiest frock
that money can buy.'
“She was frightened by the earnestness of his manner, and
ran past him to the window through which she was accus-
tomed to hand the meals. It was already opened, and Hun-
ter was seated at the small table inside. She had begun to
tell him of what had happened, when the stranger came up
again.
“ "Good-evening,' said he, looking through the window. 'I
wanted to have a word with you.' The girl has sworn that
as he spoke she noticed the corner of the little paper packet
protruding from his closed hand.
“What business have you here ?' asked the lad.
“It's business that may put something into your pocket,'
said the other. "You've two horses in for the Wessex Cup
Silver Blaze and Bayard. Let me have the straight tip and


6
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
you won't be a loser. Is it a fact that at the weights Bayard
could give the other a hundred yards in five furlongs, and
that the stable have
put their
money on him?'
So, you're one of those damned touts! cried the lad.
* I'll show you how we serve them in King's Pyland.' He
sprang up and rushed across the stable to unloose the dog.
The girl Aed away to the house, but as she ran she looked
back and saw thai the stranger was leaning through the win-
dow. A minute later, however, when Hunter rushed out with
the hound he was gone, and though he ran all round the
buildings he failed to find any trace of him."
“One moment," I asked. “Did the stable-boy, when he
ran out with the dog, leave the door unlocked behind him ?”
“Excellent, Watson, excellent !" murmured my companion.
“ The importance of the point struck me so forcibly that I
sent a special wire to Dartmoor yesterday to clear the matter
up. The boy locked the door before he left it. The window,
I may add, was not large enough for a man to get through.
“Hunter waited until his fellow-grooms had returned, when
he sent a message to the trainer and told him what had oc-
curred. Straker was excited at hearing the account, although
he does not seem to have quite realized its true significance.
It left him, however, vaguely uneasy, and Mrs. Straker, waking
at one in the morning, found that he was dressing. In reply
to her inquiries, he said that he could not sleep on account of
his anxiety about the horses, and that he intended to walk
down to the stables to see that all was well. She begged him
to remain at home, as she could hear the rain pattering against
the window, but in spite of her entreaties he pulled on his
large mackintosh and left the house.
“Mrs. Straker awokę at seven in the morning, to find that
her husband had not yet returned. She dressed herself has.
tily, called the maid, and set off for the stables. The door
was open; inside, huddled together upon a chair, Hunter was
sunk in a state of absolute stupor, the favorite's stall was
empty, and there were no signs of his trainer.


SILVER BLAZE
7
“The two lads who slept in the chaff-cutting loft above the
harness-room were quickly aroused. They had heard nothing
during the night, for they are both sound sleepers. Hunter
was obviously under the influence of some powerful drug, and
as no sense could be got out of him, he was left to sleep it
off while the two lads and the two women ran out in search
of the absentees. They still had hopes that the trainer had
for some reason taken out the horse for early exercise, but on
ascending the knoll near the house, from which all the neigh-
boring moors were visible, they not only could see no signs
of the missing favorite, but they perceived something which
warned them that they were in the presence of a tragedy.
“ About a quarter of a mile from the stables John Straker's
overcoat was flapping from a furze-bush. Immediately be-
yond there was a bowl-shaped depression in the moor, and at
the bottom of this was found the dead body of the unfortu-
nate trainer. His head had been shattered by a savage blow
from some heavy weapon, and he was wounded on the thigh,
where there was a long, clean cut, inflicted evidently by some
very sharp instrument. It was clear, however, that Straker
had defended himself vigorously against his assailants, for in
his right hand he held a small knife, which was clotted with
blood up to the handle, while in his left he clasped a red and
black silk cravat, which was recognized by the maid as having
been worn on the preceding evening by the stranger who had
visited the stables. Hunter, on recovering from his stupor, was
also quite positive as to the ownership of the cravat. He was
equally certain that the same stranger had, while standing at
the window, drugged his curried mutton, and so deprived the
stables of their watchman. As to the missing horse, there
were abundant proofs in the mud which lay at the bottom of
the fatal hollow that he had been there at the time of the
struggle. But from that morning he has disappeared, and
although a large reward has been offered, and all the gyp-
sies of Dartmoor are on the alert, no news has come of him.
Finally, an analysis has shown that the remains of his supper


8
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
left by the stable-lad contain an appreciable quantity of pow-
dered opium, while the people at the house partook of the
same dish on the same night without any ill effect.
“ Those are the main facts of the case, stripped of all sur-
mise, and stated as baldly as possible. I shall now recapitu-
late what the police have done in the matter.
"Inspector Gregory, to whom the case has been commit-
ted, is an extremely competent officer. Were he but gifted
with imagination he might rise to great heights in his profes-
sion. On his arrival he promptly found and arrested the man
upon whom suspicion naturally rested. There was little diffi-
culty in finding him, for he inhabited one of those villas which
I have mentioned. His name, it appears, was Fitzroy Simp-
son. He was a man of excellent birth and education, who had
squandered a fortune upon the turf, and who lived now by
doing a little quiet and genteel book-making in the sporting
clubs of London. An examination of his betting-book shows
that bets to the amount of five thousand pounds had been
registered by him against the favorite. On being arrested he
volunteered the statement that he had come down to Dart-
moor in the hope of getting some information about the
King's Pyland horses, and also about Desborough, the second
favorite, which was in charge of Silas Brown at the Mapleton
stables. He did not attempt to deny that he had acted as
described upon the evening before, but declared that he had
no sinister designs, and had simply wished to obtain first-hand
information. When confronted with his cravat, he turned
very pale, and was utterly unable to account for its presence
in the hand of the murdered man. His wet clothing showed
that he had been out in the storm of the night before, and his
stick, which was a Penang-lawyer weighted with lead, was just
such a weapon as might, by repeated blows, have inflicted the
terrible injuries to which the trainer had succumbed. On
the other hand, there was no wound upon
his
person, while the
state of Straker's knife would show that one at least of his
assailants must bear his mark
upon
him. There you
have


SILVER BLAZE
9
it all in a nutshell, Watson, and if you can give me any light I
shall be infinitely obliged to you."
I had listened with the greatest interest to the statement
which Holmes, with characteristic clearness, had laid before
me. Though most of the facts were familiar to me, I had not
sufficiently appreciated their relative importance, nor their
connection to each other.
“ Is it not possible," I suggested, " that the incised wound
upon
Straker
may have been caused by his own knife in the
convulsive struggles which follow any brain injury?"
“ It is more than possible ; it is probable,” said Holmes.
“ In that case one of the main points in favor of the accused
disappears."
“And yet,” said I,“ even now I fail to understand what the
theory of the police can be."
“I am afraid that whatever theory we state has very grave
objections to it," returned my companion. "The police im-
agine, I take it, that this Fitzroy Simpson, having drugged
the lad, and having in some way obtained a duplicate key,
opened the stable door and took out the horse, with the inten-
tion, apparently, of kidnapping him altogether. His bridle is
missing, so that Simpson must have put this on. Then, hav-
ing left the door open behind him, he was leading the horse
away over the moor, when he was either met or overtaken by
the trainer. A row naturally ensued. Simpson beat out the
trainer's brains with his heavy stick without receiving any in-
jury from the small knife which Straker used in self-defence,
and then the thief either led the horse on to some secret
hiding-place, or else it may have bolted during the struggle,
and be now wandering out on the moors. That is the case as
it appears to the police, and improbable as it is, all other ex-
planations are more improbable still. However, I shall very
quickly test the matter when I am once upon the spot, and
until then I cannot really see how we can get much further
than our present position.”
B


10
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
It was evening before we reached the little town of Tavis-
tock, which lies, like the boss of a shield, in the middle of the
huge circle of Dartmoor. Two gentlemen were awaiting us in
the station--the one a tall, fair man with lion-like hair and
beard, and curiously penetrating light blue eyes; the other a
small, alert person, very neat and dapper, in a frock-coat and
gaiters, with trim little side-whiskers and an eye-glass. The
latter was Colonel Ross, the well-known sportsman; the other,
Inspector Gregory, a man who was rapidly making his name
in the English detective service.
"I am delighted that you have come down, Mr. Holmes,"
said the Colonel. “The Inspector here has done all that
could possibly be suggested, but I wish to leave no stone un-
turned in trying to avenge poor Straker and in recovering my
horse."
“Have there been any fresh developments?" asked Holmes.
"I am sorry to say that we have made very little progress,"
said the Inspector. “We have an open carriage cutside, and
as you would no doubt like to see the place before the light
fails, we might talk it over as we drive."
A minute later we were all seated in a comfortable landau,
and were rattling through the quaint old Devonshire city.
Inspector Gregory was full of his case, and poured out a
stream of remarks, while Holmes threw in an occasional
question or interjection. Colonel Ross leaned back with his
arins folded and his hat tilted over his eyes, while I listened
with interest to the dialogue of the two detectives. Gregory
was formulating his theory, which was almost exactly what
Holmes had foretold in the train.
“The net is drawn pretty close round Fitzroy Simpson," he
remarked," and I believe myself that he is our man. At the
same time I recognize that the evidence is purely circumstan-
tial, and that some new development may upset it."
“ How about Straker's knife ?"
“We have quite come to the conclusion that he wounded
himself in his fall.”


SILVER BLAZE
II
. My friend Dr. Watson made that suggestion to me as we
came down. If so, it would tell against this man Simpson.”
“Undoubtedly. He has neither a knife nor any sign of a
wound. The evidence against him is certainly very strong.
He had a great interest in the disappearance of the favorite.
He lies under suspicion of having poisoned the stable-boy,
he was undoubtedly out in the storm, he was armed with a
heavy stick, and his cravat was found in the dead man's
hand. I really think we have enough to go before a jury.”
Holmes shook his head. “A clever counsel would tear it
all to rags,” said he. “Why should he take the horse out of
the stable? If he wished to injure it why could he not do it
there? Has a duplicate key been found in his possession ?
What chemist sold him the powdered opium? Above all,
where could he, a stranger to the district, hide a horse, and
such a horse as this? What is his own explanation as to the
paper which he wished the maid to give to the stable-boy?"
"He says that it was a ten-pound note. One was found in
his purse.
But
your
other difficulties are not so formidable
as they seem. He is not a stranger to the district. He has
twice lodged at Tavistock in the summer. The opium was
probably brought from London. The key, having served its
purpose, would be hurled away. The horse may be at the bot-
tom of one of the pits or old mines upon the moor."
“What does he say about the cravat?”
"He acknowledges that it is his, and declares that he had
lost it. But a new element has been introduced into the case
which
may account for his leading the horse from the stable.”
Holmes pricked up his ears.
“We have found traces which show that a party of gypsies
encamped on Monday night within a mile of the spot where
the murder took place. On Tuesday they were gone. Now,
presuming that there was some understanding between Simp-
son and these gypsies, might he not have been leading the
horse to them when he was overtaken, and may they not have
him now ?"


12
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
"It is certainly possible."
“The moor is being scoured for these gypsies. I have also
examined every stable and out-house in Tavistock, and for a
radius of ten miles."
“There is another training - stable quite close, I under-
stand?"
“Yes, and that is a factor which we must certainly not
neglect. As Desborough, their horse, was second in the bet-
ting, they had an interest in the disappearance of the favor-
ite. Silas Brown, the trainer, is known to have had large bets
upon the event, and he was no friend to poor Straker. We
have, however, examined the stables, and there is nothing to
connect him with the affair."
“And nothing to connect this man Simpson with the inter-
ests of the Mapleton stables?"
"Nothing at all."
Holmes leaned back in the carriage, and the conversation
ceased. A few minutes later our driver pulled up at a neat
little red-brick villa with overhanging eaves which stood by
the road. Some distance off, across a paddock, lay a long
gray-tiled out building. In every other direction the low
curves of the moor, bronze-colored from the fading ferns,
stretched away to the sky-line, broken only by the steeples of
Tavistock, and by a cluster of houses away to the westward
which marked the Mapleton stables. We all sprang out with
the exception of Holmes, who continued to lean back with his
eyes fixed upon the sky in front of him, entirely absorbed in
his own thoughts. It was only when I touched his arm that
he roused himself with a violent start and stepped out of the
carriage.
"Excuse me," said he, turning to Colonel Ross, who had
looked at him in some surprise. “I was day-dreaming."
There was a gleam in his eyes and a suppressed excitement
in his manner which convinced me, used as I was to his ways,
that his hand was upon a clue, though I could not imagine
where he had found it.


SILVER BLAZE
13
Perhaps you would prefer at once to go on to the scene
of the crime, Mr. Holmes ?" said Gregory.
“I think that I should prefer to stay here a little and go
into one or two questions of detail. Straker was brought
back here, I presume?"
“Yes; he lies upstairs. The inquest is to-morrow.”
“He has been in your service some years, Colonel Ross ?"
“I have always found him an excellent servant.“'
“I presume that you made an inventory of what he had in
his pockets at the time of his death, Inspector ?"
“I have the things themselves in the sitting-room, if you
would care to see them."
“I should be very glad.” We all filed into the front room
and sat round the central table while the Inspector unlocked
a square tin box and laid a small heap of things before us.
There was a box of vestas, two inches of tallow candle, an
AD P brier-root pipe, a pouch of seal-skin with half an ounce
of long-cut Cavendish, a silver watch with a gold chain, five
sovereigns in gold, an aluminium pencil-case, a few papers,
and an ivory-handled knife with a very delicate, inflexible
blade marked Weiss & Co., London.
“ This is a very singular knife," said Holmes, lifting it up
and examining it minutely. "I presume, as I see blood-stains
upon it, that it is the one which was found in the dead man's
grasp. Watson, this knife is surely in your line ?”
“ It is what we call a cataract knife," said I.
“I thought so. A very delicate blade devised for very del-
icate work. A strange thing for a man to carry with him
upon a rough expedition, especially as it would not shut in his
pocket.”
“ The tip was guarded by a disk of cork which we found
beside his body," said the Inspector.
" His wife tells us that
the knife had lain upon the dressing-table, and that he had
picked it up as he left the room. It was a poor weapon, but
perhaps the best that he could lay his hands on at the mo-
ment."
.


14
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“Very possibly. How about these papers ?"
“ Three of them are receipted hay-dealers' accounts. One
of them is a letter of instructions from Colonel Ross. This
other is a milliner's account for thirty-seven pounds fifteen
made out by Madame Lesurier, of Bond Street, to William
Derbyshire. Mrs. Straker tells us that Derbyshire was a
friend of her husband's, and that occasionally his letters were
addressed tere."
“Madame Derbyshire had somewhat expensive tastes,” re-
marked Holmes, glancing down the account. “Twenty-two
guineas is rather heavy for a single costume. However, there
appears to be nothing more to learn, and we may now go
down to the scene of the crime.".
As we emerged from the sitting-room a woman, who had
been waiting in the passage, took a step forward and laid her
hand upon the Inspector's sleeve. Her face was haggard and
thin and eager, stamped with the print of a recent horror.
“ Have you got them ? Have you found them ?" she
panted.
“No, Mrs. Straker. But Mr. Holmes here has come from
London to help us, and we shall do all that is possible."
“Surely I met you in Plymouth at a garden-party some lit-
tle time ago, Mrs. Straker ?” said Holmes.
“No, sir; you are mistaken.”
“Dear me! Why, I could have sworn to it. You wore
a costume of dove-colored silk with ostrich - feather trim-
ming."
“I never had such a dress, sir," answered the lady.
“Ah, that quite settles it,” said Holmes. And with an
apology he followed the Inspector outside. A short walk
across the moor took us to the hollow in which the body
had been found. At the brink of it was the furze-bush upon
which the coat had been hung.
“There was no wind that night, I understand,” said
Holmes.
“ None; but very heavy rain."


SILVER BLAZE
15
“ In that case the overcoat was not blown against the
furze-bushes, but placed there."
“Yes, it was laid across the bush."
“You fill me with interest. I perceive that the ground has
been trampled up a good deal. No doubt many feet have
been here since Monday night."
“A piece of matting has been laid here at the side, and we
have all stood upon that.”
• Excellent.”
“In this bag I have one of the boots which Straker wore,
one of Fitzroy Simpson's shoes, and a cast horseshoe of
Silver Blaze."
“My dear Inspector, you surpass yourself !” Holmes took
the bag, and, descending into the hollow, he pushed the mat-
ting into a more central position. Then stretching himself
upon his face and leaning his chin upon his hands, he made
a careful study of the trampled mud in front of him. “Hul-
lo!” said he, suddenly. “What's this?” It was a wax vesta
half burned, which was so coated with mud that it looked at
first like a little chip of wood.
“I cannot think how I came to overlook it,” said the In-
spector, with an expression of annoyance.
“It was invisible, buried in the mud. I only saw it because
I was looking for it."
“What! you expected to find it?"
“I thought it not unlikely."
He took the boots from the bag, and compared the impres-
sions of each of them with marks upon the ground. Then he
clambered up to the rim of the hollow, and crawled about
among the ferns and bushes.
“I am afraid that there are no more tracks," said the In-
spector. "I have examined the ground very carefully for a
hundred yards in each direction."
“Indeed !" said Holmes, rising. “I should not have the
impertinence to do it again after what you say. But I should
like to take a little walk over the moor before it grows dark,


16
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
that I may know my ground to-morrow, and I think that I
shall put this horseshoe into my pocket for luck.”
Colonel Ross, who had shown some signs of impatience at
my companion's quiet and systematic method of work, glanced
at his watch. “I wish you would come back with me, In-
spector,” said he. “There are several points on which I
should like your advice, and especially as to whether we do
not owe it to the public to remove our horse's name from the
entries for the Cup.”
Certainly not,” cried Holmes, with decision. “I should
let the name stand.”
The Colonel bowed. “I am very glad to have had your
opinion, sir," said he. “You will find us at poor Straker's
house when you have finished your walk, and we can drive
together into Tavistock.”'
He turned back with the Inspector, while Holmes and I
walked slowly across the moor. The sun was beginning to
sink behind the stable of Mapleton, and the long, sloping
plain in front of us was tinged with gold, deepening into rich,
ruddy browns where the faded ferns and brambles caught the
evening light. But the glories of the landscape were all wasted
upon my companion, who was sunk in the deepest thought.
“It's this way, Watson,” said he at last. “We may leave
the question of who killed John Straker for the instant, and
confine ourselves to finding out what has become of the horse.
Now, supposing that he broke away during or after the trag-
edy, where could he have gone to? The horse is a very gre-
garious creature. If left to himself his instincts would have
been either to return to King's Pyland or go over to Mapleton.
Why should he run wild upon the moor? He would surely have
been seen by now. And why should gypsies kidnap him?
These people always clear out when they hear of trouble,
for they do not wish to be pestered by the police. They
could not hope to sell such a horse. They would run a great
risk and gain nothing by taking him. Surely that is clear."
“Where is he, then ?”


SILVER BLAZE
17
92
“I have already said that he must have gone to King's Py
land or to Mapleton. He is not at King's Pyland. There-
fore he is at Mapleton. Let us take that as a working hypoth-
esis and see what it leads us to. This part of the moor, as
the Inspector remarked, is very hard and dry. But it falls
away towards Mapleton, and you can see from here that there
is a long hollow over yonder, which must have been very wet
on Monday night. If our supposition is correct, then the
horse must have crossed that, and there is the point where
we should look for his tracks."
We had been walking briskly during this conversation, and
a few more minutes brought us to the hollow in question.
At Holmes's request I walked down the bank to the right,
and he to the left, but I had not taken fifty paces before I
heard him give a shout, and saw him waving his hand to me.
The track of a horse was plainly outlined in the soft earth in
front of him, and the shoe which he took from his pocket
exactly fitted the impression.
“See the value of imagination,” said Holmes. “It is the
one quality which Gregory lacks. We imagined what might
have happened, acted upon the supposition, and find our-
selves justified. Let us proceed."
We crossed the marshy bottom and passed over a quarter
of a mile of dry, hard turf. Again the ground sloped, and
again we came on the tracks. Then we lost them for half a
mile, but only to pick them up once more quite close to Ma-
pleton. It was Holmes who saw them first, and he stood
pointing with a look of triumph upon his face. A man's
track was visible beside the horse's.
“The horse was alone before," I cried.
“Quite so. It was alone before. Hullo, what is this?”
The double track turned sharp off and took the direction
of King's Pyland. Holmes whistled, and we both followed
along after it. His eyes were on the trail, but I happened
to look a little to one side, and saw to my surprise the same
tracks coming back again in the opposite direction,


18
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“One for you, Watson," said Holmes, when I pointed it
out. "You have saved us a long walk, which would have
brought us back on our own traces. Let us follow the return
track.”
We had not to go far. It ended at the paving of asphalt
which led up to the gates of the Mapleton stables. As we
approached, a groom ran out from them.
“We don't want any loiterers about here,” said he.
“I only wished to ask a question," said Holmes, with his
finger and thumb in his waistcoat pocket. “Should I be too
early to see your master, Mr. Silas Brown, if I were to call at
five o'clock to-morrow morning ?"
“ Bless you, sir, if any one is about he will be, for he is
always the first stirring. But here he is, sir, to answer your
questions for himself. No, sir, no; it is as much as my place
is worth to let him see me touch your money. Afterwards,
if
you
like."
As Sherlock Holmes replaced the half-crown which he had
drawn from his pocket, a fierce-looking elderly man strode
out from the gate with a hunting-crop swinging in his
hand.
“What's this, Dawson !” he cried. "No gossiping! Go
about your business! And you, what the devil do you want
here ?"
“Ten minutes' talk with you, my good sir,” said Holmes
in the sweetest of voices.
“I've no time to talk to every gadabout. We want no
strangers here. . Be off, or you may find a dog at your heels."
Holmes leaned forward and whispered something in the
trainer's ear. He started violently and fushed to the tem-
ples.
“It's a lie!” he shouted; "an infernal lie !"
“Very good. Shall we argue about it here in public or
talk it over in your parlor ?"
Oh, come in if
you
wish to."
Holmes smiled. “I shall not keep you more than a few


SILVER BLAZE
19
minutes, Watson,” said he. “Now, Mr. Brown, I am quite at
your disposal."
It was twenty minutes, and the reds had all faded into
grays before Holmes and the trainer reappeared. Never
have I seen such a change as had been brought about in
Silas Brown in that short time. His face was ashy pale,
beads of perspiration shone upon his brow, and his hands
shook until the hunting-crop wagged like a branch in the
wind. His bullying, overbearing manner was all gone too,
and he cringed along at my companion's side like a dog with
its master.
“Your instructions will be done. It shall all be done,"
said he.
“There must be no mistake," said Holmes, looking round
at him. The other winced as he read the menace in his eyes.
“Oh no, there shall be no mistake. It shall be there.
Should I change it first or not?”
Holmes thought a little and then burst out laughing. “No,
don't," said he; “I shall write to you about it. No tricks,
now, or-”
“Oh, you can trust me, you can trust me!"
“Yes, I think I can. Well, you shall hear from me to-
morrow.” He turned upon his heel, disregarding the trem-
bling hand which the other held out to him, and we set off
for King's Pyland.
“A more perfect compound of the bully, coward, and sneak
than Master Silas Brown I have seldom met with,” remarked
Holmes as we trudged along together.
“He has the horse, then ?"
“He tried to bluster out of it, but I described to him so
exactly what his actions had been upon that morning that he
is convinced that I was watching him. Of course you ob-
served the peculiarly square toes in the impressions, and that
his own boots exactly corresponded to them. Again, of course
no subordinate would have dared to do such a thing. I de-
scribed to him how, when according to his custom he was the


20
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
first down, he perceived a strange horse wandering over the
moor. How he went out to it, and his astonishment at recog-
nizing, from the white forehead which has given the favorite
its name, that chance had put in his power the only horse
which could beat the one upon which he had put his money.
Then I described how his first impulse had been to lead him
back to King's Pyland, and how the devil had shown him
how he could hide the horse until the race was over, and how
he had led it back and concealed it at Mapleton. When I
told him every detail he gave it up and thought only of saving
his own skin."
“ But his stables had been searched ?”
“Oh, an old horse-fakir like him has many a dodge.”
“But are you not afraid to leave the horse in his power
now, since he has every interest in injuring it?"
“My dear fellow, he will guard it as the apple of his eye.
He knows that his only hope of mercy is to produce it
safe."
“ Colonel Ross did not impress me as a man who would
be likely to show much mercy in any case.”
“ The matter does not rest with Colonel Ross. I follow
my own methods, and tell as much or as little as I choose.
That is the advantage of being unofficial. I don't know
whether you observed it, Watson, but the Colonel's manner
has been just a trifle cavalier to me. I am inclined now to
have a little amusement at his expense. Say nothing to him
about the horse."
“Certainly not without your permission."
“And of course this is all quite a minor point compared
to the question of who killed John Straker."
“And you will devote yourself to that?"
“On the contrary, we both go back to London by the night
train."
I was thunderstruck by my friend's words. We had only
been a few hours in Devonshire, and that he should give up
an investigation which he had begun so brilliantly was quite


SILVER BLAZE
21
incomprehensible to me. Not a word more could I draw
from him until we were back at the trainer's house. The
Colonel and the Inspector were awaiting us in the parlor.
“My friend and I return to town by the night-express,"
said Holmes. “We have had a charming little breath of
your beautiful Dartmoor air."
The Inspector opened his eyes, and the Colonel's lip curled ·
in a sneer.
“So you despair of arresting the murderer of poor Straker,"
said he.
Holmes shrugged his shoulders. “There are certainly grave
difficulties in the way," said he. “I have every hope, how-
ever, that your horse will start upon Tuesday, and I beg that
you will have your jo
your jockey in readiness.
in readiness. Might I ask for a
photograph of Mr. John Straker?”
The Inspector took one from an envelope and handed it to
him.
“My dear Gregory, you anticipate all my wants. If I might
ask you to wait here for an instant, I have a question which
I should like to put to the maid.”
“I must say that I am rather disappointed in our London
consultant,” said Colonel Ross, bluntly, as my friend left the
room. “I do not see that we are any further than when he
came.”
“At least you have his assurance that your
horse will run,"
said I.
“Yes, I have his assurance,” said the Colonel, with a shrug
of his shoulders. “I should prefer to have the horse."
I was about to make some reply in defence of my
friend
when he entered the room again.
"Now, gentlemen,” said he, “I am quite ready for Tavis-
tock."
As we stepped into the carriage one of the stable-lads held
the door open for us. A sudden idea seemed to occur to
Holmes, for he leaned forward and touched the lad upon the
sleeve.



20
MEMOIRS OF SHER
first down, he perceived a stran
moor. How he went out to it, a
nizing, from the white forehead
its name, that chance had put
which could beat the one upon
Then I described how his first
back to King's Pyland, and
how he could hide the horse u
he had led it back and conc
told him every detail he gave
his own skin."
“But his stables had been
“Oh, an old horse-fakir li
But are you not afraid
now, since he has every int
“My dear fellow, he wil
He knows that his only
safe."
“ Colonel Ross did n
be likely to show much
“The matter does
my own methods, and
That is the advanta
whether you observe
has been just a trif
have tle amuse
abo
horse."
inly not
of cour
uestion
d you w


SILVER BLAZE
23
tting?"
the curious part of it. You could have got
esterday, but the price has become shorter
you can hardly get three to one nov."
Holmes. “Somebody knows something,
drew up
in the enclosure near the grand stand
he card to see the entries.
[it ran] 50 sovs each h ft with 1000 sovs added for four
ds. Second, £300. Third, £200. New course (one mile
s).
Newton's The Negro. Red cap. Cinnamon jacket.
Wardlaw's Pugilist. Pink cap. Blue and black jacket.
ckwater's Desborough. Yellow cap and sleeves.
Ross's Silver Blaze. Black cap. Red jacket.
of Balmoral's Iris. Yellow and black stripes.
Singleford's Rasper. Purple cap. Black sleeves.
scratched our other one, and put all hopes on your
said the Colonel. “Why, what is that? Silver Blaze
e?"
ve to four against Silver Blaze !" roared the ring.
to four against Silver Blaze! Five to fifteen against
borough! Five to four on the field !"
There are the numbers up," I cried. •They are all six
re."
*** All six there? Then my horse is running," cried the
olonel in great agitation. “But I don't see him. My colors
have not passed."
“Only five have passed. This must be he."
As I spoke a powerful bay horse swept out from the weigh-
ing enclosure and cantered past us, bearing on its back the
well-known black and red of the Colonel.
“That's not my horse,” cried the owner. " That beast has
a white hair upon its body. What is this that you have
e, Mr. Holmes?"
Well, well, let us see how he gets on," said my friend, im-


24
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
perturbably. For a few minutes he gazed through my field-
glass. “Capital! An excellent start!” he cried suddenly.
“There they are, coming round the curve !"
From our drag we had a superb view as they came up the
straight. The six horses were so close together that a carpet
could have covered them, but half way up the yellow of the
Mapleton stable showed to the front. Before they reached
us, however, Desborough's bolt was shot, and the Colonel's
horse, coming away with a rush, passed the post a good six
lengths before its rival, the Duke of Balmoral's Iris making a
bad third.
“It's my race, anyhow," gasped the Colonel, passing his
hand over his eyes. “I confess that I can make neither head
nor tail of it. Don't you think that you have kept up your
mystery long enough, Mr. Holmes?"
“Certainly, Colonel, you shall know everything. Let us all
go round and have a look at the horse together. Here he is,”
he continued, as we made our way into the weighing enclosure,
where only owners and their friends find admittance. “ You
have only to wash his face and his leg in spirits of wine, and
you will find that he is the same old Silver Blaze as ever.”
“You take my breath away!"
“I found him in the hands of a fakir, and took the liberty
of running him just as he was sent over.”
“My dear sir, you have done wonders. The horse looks
very
fit and well. It never went better in its life. I owe you
a thousand apologies for having doubted your ability. You
have done me a great service by recovering my horse.
You would do me a greater still if you could lay your hands on
the murderer of John Straker.”
“I have done so," said Holmes quietly.
The Colonel and I stared at him in amazement. “ You
have got him! Where is he, then?”
“ He is here."
“ Here! Where ?"
“In my company at the present moment."


SILVER BLAZE
25
The Colon 1 flushed angrily. "I quite recognize that I am
under obligations to you, Mr. Holmes," said he, “but I must
regard what you have just said as either a very bad joke or an
insult."
Sherlock Holmes laughed. “I assure you that I have not
associated you with the crime, Colonel,” said he. “ The real
murderer is standing immediately behind you.” He stepped
past and laid his hand upon the glossy neck of the thorough-
bred.
“The horse !" cried both the Colonel and myself.
“Yes, the horse. And it may lessen his guilt if I say that
it was done in self-defence, and that John Straker was a man
who was entirely unworthy of your confidence. But there
goes the bell, and as I stand to win a little on this next race,
I shall defer a lengthy explanation until a more fitting time."
We had the corner of a Pullman car to ourselves that even-
ing as we whirled back to London, and I fancy that the jour-
ney was a short one to Colonel Ross as well as to myself, as
we listened to our companion's narrative of the events which
had occurred at the Dartmoor training-stables upon that Mon-
day night, and the means by which he had unravelled them.
'I confess,” said he, “that any theories which I had formed
from the newspaper reports were entirely erroneous. And yet
there were indications there, had they not been overlaid by
other details which concealed their true import. I went to
Devonshire with the conviction that Fitzroy Simpson was
the true culprit, although, of course, I saw that the evidence
against him was by no means complete. It was while I was
in the carriage, just as we reached the trainer's house, that the
immense significance of the curried mutton occurred to me.
You may remember that I was distrait, and remained sitting
after you had all alighted. I was marvelling in my own mind
how I could possibly have overlooked so obvious a clue.”
“I confess," said the Colonel, “ that even now I cannot see
how it helps us.”


26
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“ It was the first link in my chain of reasoning. Powdered
opium is by no means tasteless. The flavor is not disagree-
able, but it is perceptible. Were it mixed with any ordinary
dish the eater would undoubtedly detect it, and would prob-
ably eat no more. A curry was exactly the medium which
would disguise this taste. By no possible supposition could
this stranger, Fitzroy Simpson, have caused curry to be served
in the trainer's family that night, and it is surely too monstrous
a coincidence to suppose that he happened to come along with
powdered opium upon the very night when a dish happened to
be served which would disguise the flavor. That is unthink-
able. Therefore Simpson becomes eliminated from the case,
and our attention centres upon Straker and his wife, the only
two people who could have chosen curried mutton for supper
that night. The opium was added after the dish was set aside
for the stable-boy, for the others had the same for supper with
no ill effects. Which of them, then, had access to that dish
without the maid seeing them?
“Before deciding that question I had grasped the signif-
icance of the silence of the dog, for one true inference invari-
ably suggests others. The Simpson incident had shown me
that a dog was kept in the stables, and yet, though some one
had been in and had fetched out a horse, he had not barked
enough to arouse the two lads in the loft. Obviously the mid-
night visitor was some one whom the dog knew well.
"I was already convinced, or almost convinced, that John
Straker went down to the stables in the dead of the night and
took out Silver Blaze. For what purpose ? For a dishonest
one, obviously, or why should he drug his own stable-boy?
And yet I was at a loss to know why. There have been cases
before now where trainers have made sure of great sums of
money by laying against their own horses, through agents, and
then preventing them from winning by fraud. Sometimes it is
a pulling jockey. Sometimes it is some surer and subtler
means. What was it here? I hoped that the contents of his
pockets might help me to form a conclusion.


SILVER BLAZE
27
“And they did so. You cannot have forgotten the singular
knife which was found in the dead man's hand, a knife which
certainly no sane man would choose for a weapon. It was, as
Dr. Watson told us, a form of knife which is used for the most
delicate operations known in surgery. And it was to be used
for a delicate operation that night. You must know, with your
wide experience of turf matters, Colonel Ross, that it is possi-
ble to make a slight nick upon the tendons of a horse's ham,
and to do it subcutaneously, so as to leave absolutely no trace.
A horse so treated would develop a slight lameness, which
would be put down to a strain in exercise or a touch of rheu-
matism, but never to foul play."
“ Villain! Scoundrel !” cried the Colonel.
“We have here the explanation of why John Straker wished
to take the horse out on to the moor. So spirited a creature
would have certainly roused the soundest of sleepers when it
felt the prick of the knife. It was absolutely necessary to do
it in the open air.”
“I have been blind !" cried the Colonel. “Of course that
was why he needed the candle, and struck the match."
“ Undoubtedly. But in examining his belongings I was
fortunate enough to discover not only the method of the
crime, but even its motives. As a man of the world, Colonel,
you know that men do not carry other people's bills about in
their pockets. We have most of us quite enough to do to
settle our own. I at once concluded that Straker was lead-
ing a double life, and keeping a second establishment. The
nature of the bill showed that there was a lady in the case,
and one who had expensive tastes. Liberal as you are with
your servants, one can hardly expect that they can buy twenty-
guinea walking dresses for their ladies. I questioned Mrs.
Straker as to the dress without her knowing it, and having
satisfied myself that it had never reached her, I made a note
of the milliner's address, and felt that by calling there with
Straker's photograph I could easily dispose of the mythical
Derbyshire.


28
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“From that time on all was plain. Straker had led out the
horse to a hollow where his light would be invisible. Simp-
son in his flight had dropped his cravat, and Straker had
picked it up-with some idea, perhaps, that he might use it in
securing the horse's leg. Once in the hollow, he had got be
hind the horse and had struck a light; but the creature, fright-
ened at the sudden glare, and with the strange instinct of
animals feeling that some mischief was intended, had lashed
out, and the steel shoe had struck Straker full on the fore-
head. He had already, in spite of the rain, taken off his
overcoat in order to do his delicate task, and so, as he fell,
his knife gashed his thigh. Do I make it clear?”
“ Wonderful !” cried the Colonel. 6 Wonderful ! You
might have been there !"
“My final shot was, I confess, a very long one. It struck
me that so astute a man as Straker would not undertake this
delicate tendon-nicking without a little practice. What could
he practise on? My eyes fell upon the sheep, and I asked a
question which, rather to my surprise, showed that my sur-
mise was correct.
“When I returned to London I called upon the milliner,
who had recognized Straker as an excellent customer of the
name of Derbyshire, who had a very dashing wife, with a
strong partiality for expensive dresses. I have no doubt that
this woman had plunged him over head and ears in debt, and
so led him into this miserable plot.”
“You have explained all but one thing," cried the Colonel.
66 Where was the horse ?"
“Ah, it bolted, and was cared for by one of your neighbors.
We must have an amnesty in that direction, I think. This is
Clapham Junction, if I am not mistaken, and we shall be in
Victoria in less than ten minutes. If you care to smoke a
cigar in our rooms, Colonel, I shall be happy to give you any
other details which might interest you."


Eldventure 10
THE YELLOW FACE
(In publishing these short sketches based upon the numerous cases in
which my companion's singular gifts have made us the listeners to, and
eventually the actors in, some strange drama, it is only natural that I should
dwell rather upon his successes than upon his failures. And this not so
much for the sake of his reputation-for, indeed, it was when he was at his
wits' end that his energy and his versatility were most admirable-but be-
cause where he failed it happened too often that no one else succeeded,
and that the tale was left forever without a conclusion. Now and again,
however, it chanced that even when he erred, the truth was still discovered.
I have noted of some half-dozen cases of the kind the Adventure of the
Musgrave Ritual and that which I am about to recount are the two which
present the strongest features of interest.]
HERLOCK HOLMES was a man who seldom
took exercise for exercise's sake.
Few men
were capable of greater muscular effort, and he
was undoubtedly one of the finest boxers of his
weight that I have ever seen; but he looked
upon aimless bodily exertion as a waste of energy, and he
seldom bestirred himself save where there was some profes-
sional object to be served. Then he was absolutely untiring
and indefatigable. That he should have kept himself in train-
ing under such circumstances is remarkable, but his diet was
usually of the sparest, and his habits were simple to the verge
of austerity. Save for the occasional use of cocaine, he had
no vices, and he only turned to the drug as a protest against
the monotony of existence when cases were scanty and the
papers uninteresting.
One day in early spring he had so far relaxed as to go for a
walk with me in the Park, where the first faint shoots of green
were breaking out upon the elms, and the sticky spear-heads


30
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
of the chestnuts were just beginning to burst into their five-
fold leaves. For two hours we rambled about together, in
silence for the most part, as befits two men who know each
other intimately. It was nearly five before we were back in
Baker Street once more.
“Beg pardon, sir,” said our page-boy, as he opened the
door. “There's been a gentleman here asking for you, sir.”
Holmes glanced reproachfully at me. “ So much for after
noon walks !" said he. “Has this gentleman gone, then?"
“Yes, sir."
“ Didn't
you
ask him in ?"
“Yes, sir; he came in.”
“How long did he wait ?"
“Half an hour, sir. He was a very restless gentleman, sir,
a-walkin' and a-stampin' all the time he was here. I was
waitin' outside the door, sir, and I could hear him. At last
he out into the passage, and he cries, 'Is that man never goin'
to come ?' Those were his very words, sir. “You'll only need
to wait a little longer,' says I. “Then I'll wait in the open
air, for I feel half choked,' says he. “I'll be back before
long. And with that he ups and he outs, and all I could say
wouldn't hold him back."
“Well, well, you did your best,” said Holmes, as we walked
into our room. "It's very annoying, though, Watson. I was
badly in need of a case, and this looks, from the man's impa-
tience, as if it were of importance. Hullo! that's not your
pipe on the table. He must have left his behind him. A
nice old brier with a good long stem of what the tobacconists
call amber. I wonder how many real amber mouthpieces
there are in London? Some people think that a fly in it is a
sign. Well, he must have been disturbed in his mind to leave
a pipe behind him which he evidently values highly."
“How do you know that he values it highly?" I asked.
“Well, I should put the original cost of the pipe at seven
and sixpence. Now it has, you see, been twice mended, once
in the wooden stem and once in the amber. Each of these


THE YELLOW FACE
31
mends, done, as you observe, with silver bands, must have cost
more than the pipe did originally. The man must value the
pipe highly when he prefers to patch it up rather than buy a
new one with the same money.”
“Anything else?" I asked, for Holmes was turning the pipe
about in his hand, and staring at it in his peculiar pensive way.
He held it up and tapped on it with his long, thin fore-
finger, as a professor might who was lecturing on a bone.
“Pipes are occasionally of extraordinary interest,” said he.
“Nothing has more individuality, save perhaps watches and
bootlaces. The indications here, however, are neither very
marked nor very important. The owner is obviously a mus-
cular man, left-handed, with an excellent set of teeth, careless
in his habits, and with no need to practise economy."
My friend threw out the information in a very off-hand
way,
but I saw that he cocked his eye at me to see if I had followed
his reasoning.
“ You think a man must be well-to-do if he smokes a seven-
shilling pipe," said I.
“ This is Grosvenor mixture at eightpence an ounce,"
Holmes answered, knocking a little out on his palm. “As
he might get an excellent smoke for half the price, he has no
need to practise economy.”
“And the other points ?”.
“ He has been in the habit of lighting his pipe at lamps and
gas-jets. You can see that it is quite charred all down one
side. Of course a match could not have done that. Why
should a man hold a match to the side of his pipe? But you
cannot light it at a lamp without getting the bowl charred.
And it is all on the right side of the pipe. From that I gather
that he is a left-handed man. You hold your own pipe to the
lamp, and see how naturally you, being right-handed, hold the
left side to the flame. You might do it once the other way,
but not as a constancy. This has always been held so. Then
he has bitten through his amber. It takes a muscular, ener-
getic fellow, and one with a good set of teeth, to do that. But


33
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
if I am not mistaken I hear him upon the stair, so we shall
have something more interesting than his pipe to study."
An instant later our door opened, and a tall young man en-
tered the room. He was well but quietly dressed in a dark-
gray suit, and carried a brown wideawake in his hand. I
should have put him at about thirty, though he was really
some years older.
“I beg your pardon,” said he, with some embarrassment;
“I suppose I should have knocked. Yes, of course I should
have knocked. The fact is that I am a little upset, and you
must put it all down to that.” He passed his hand over his
forehead like a man who is half dazed, and then fell rather
than sat down upon a chair.
“I can see that you have not slept for a night or two,” said
Holmes, in his easy, genial way. “That tries a man's nerves
more than work, and more even than pleasure. May I ask
how I can help you?"
“I wanted your advice, sir. I don't know what to do, and
my whole life seems to have gone to pieces.”
“You wish to employ me as a consulting detective ?"
“Not that only. I want your opinion as a judicious man-
as a man of the world. I want to know what I ought to do
next. I hope to God you'll be able to tell me."
He spoke in little, sharp, jerky outbursts, and it seemed to
me that to speak at all was very painful to him, and that his
will all through was overriding his inclinations.
“It's a very delicate thing,” said he. “One does not like
to speak of one's domestic affairs to strangers. It seems
dreadful to discuss the conduct of one's wife with two men
whom I have never seen before. It's horrible to have to do
it. But I've got to the end of my tether, and I must have ad-
vice."
“My dear Mr. Grant Munro" began Holmes.
Our visitor sprang from his chair. '“What!” he cried, "you
know my name?"
“If you wish to preserve your incognito," said Holmes,
92



PIPES ARE OCCASIONALLY OF EXTRAORDINARY INTEREST, SAID HE."





34
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“I'll tell you what I know about Effie's history. She was a
widow when I met her first, though quite young only twenty-
five. Her name then was Mrs. Hebron. She went out to
America when she was young, and lived in the town of At-
lanta, where she married this Hebron, who was a lawyer with
a good practice. They had one child, but the yellow fever
broke out badly in the place, and both husband and child died
of it. I have seen his death certificate. This sickened her of
America, and she came back to live with a maiden aunt at
Pinner, in Middlesex. I may mention that her husband had
left her comfortably off, and that she had a capital of about
four thousand five hundred pounds, which had been so well
invested by him that it returned an average of seven per cent.
She had only been six months at Pinner when I met her; we
fell in love with each other, and we married a few weeks after-
wards.
“I am a hop merchant myself, and as I have an income of
seven or eight hundred, we found ourselves comfortably off,
and took a nice eighty-pound-a-year villa at Norbury. Our
little place was very countrified, considering that it is so close
to town. We had an inn and two houses a little above us,
and a single cottage at the other side of the field which faces
us, and except those there were no houses until you got half
way to the station. My business took me into town at cer-
tain seasons, but in summer I had less to do, and then in our
country home my wife and I were just as happy as could be
wished. I tell you that there never was a shadow between us
until this accursed affair began.
“ There's one thing I ought to tell you before I go further.
When we married, my wife made over all her property to me
-rather against my will, for I saw how awkward it would be
if
my business affairs went wrong. However, she would have
it
so, and it was done. Well, about six weeks ago she came
to me.
“ Jack,' said she, “when you took my money you said that
if ever I wanted any I was to ask you for it.'


36
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
me.
became aware that a face was watching me out of one of the
upper windows.
“ I don't know what there was about that face, Mr. Holmes,
but it seemed to send a chill right down my back. I was some
little
way off, so that I could not make out the features, but
there was something unnatural and inhuman about the face.
That was the impression that I had, and I moved quickly for-
wards to get a nearer view of the person who was watching
But as I did so the face suddenly disappeared, so suddenly
that it seemed to have been p!ucked away into the darkness of
the room. I stood for five minutes thinking the business over,
and trying to analyze my impressions. I could not tell if the
face were that of a man or a woman. It had been too far
from me for that. But its color was what had impressed me
most. It was of a livid chalky white, and with something set
and rigid about it which was shockingly unnatural. So dis-
turbed was I that I determined to see a little more of the new
inmates of the cottage. I approached and knocked at the
door, which was instantly opened by a tall, gaunt woman with
a harsh, forbidding face.
«•What may you be wantin' ?' she asked, in a Northern
accent.
“I am your neighbor over yonder,' said I, nodding tow-
ards my house. “I see that you have only just moved in, so
I thought that if I could be of any help to you in any–
?
* Ay, we'll just ask ye when we want ye,' said she, and
shut the door in my face. Annoyed at the churlish rebuff, I
turned my back and walked home. All evening, though I
tried to think of other things, my mind would still turn to the
apparition at the window and the rudeness of the woman. I
determined to say nothing about the former to my wife, for
she is a nervous, highly strung woman, and I had no wish that
she should share the unpleasant impression which had been
produced upon myself. I remarked to her, however, before I
fell asleep, that the cottage was now occupied, to which she
returned no reply.
666


THE YELLOW FACE
37
"I am usually an extremely sound sleeper. It has been a
standing jest in the family that nothing could ever wake me
during the night. And yet somehow on that particular night,
whether it may have been the slight excitement produced by
my little adventure or not I know not, but I slept much more
lightly than usual. Half in my dreams I was dimly conscious
that something was going on in the room, and gradually be-
came aware that
my
wife had dressed herself and was slipping
on her mantle and her bonnet.
My lips were parted to mur-
mur out some sleepy words of surprise or remonstrance at this
untimely preparation, when suddenly my half-opened eyes fell
upon her face, illuminated by the candle-light, and astonish-
ment held me dumb. She wore an expression such as I had
never seen before-such as I should have thought her incapa-
ble of assuming. She was deadly pale and breathing fast,
glancing furtively towards the bed as she fastened her mantle,
to see if she had disturbed me. Then, thinking that I was
still asleep, she slipped noiselessly from the room, and an in-
stant later I heard a sharp creaking which could only come
from the hinges of the front door. I sat up in bed and rapped
my knuckles against the rail to make certain that I was truly
awake. Then I took my watch from under the pillow. It was
three in the morning. What on this earth could my wife be
doing out on the country road at three in the morning ?
“I had sat for about twenty minutes turning the thing over
in my mind and trying to find some possible explanation.
The more I thought, the more extraordinary and inexplicable
did it appear. I was still puzzling over it when I heard the
door gently close again, and her footsteps coming up the
stairs.
"Where in the world have you been, Effie?' I asked as she
entered.
She gave a violent start and a kind of gasping cry when I
spoke, and that cry and start troubled me more than all the
rest, for there was something indescribably guilty about them.
My wife had always been a woman of a frank, open nature,
66


38
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
and it gave me a chill to see her slinking into her own room,
and crying out and wincing when her own husband spoke to
her.
"You awake, Jack !' she cried, with a nervous laugh.
"Why, I thought that nothing could awake you.'
“Where have you been?' I asked, more sternly.
“I don't wonder that you are surprised,' said she, and I
could see that her fingers were trembling as she undid the
fastenings of her mantle. "Why, I never remember having
done such a thing in my life before. The fact is that I felt as
though I were choking, and had a perfect longing for a breath
of fresh air. I really think that I should have fainted if I had
not gone out. I stood at the door for a few minutes, and now
I am quite myself again.'
“All the time that she was telling me this story she never
once looked in my direction, and her voice was quite unlike
her usual tones. It was evident to me that she was saying
what was false. I said nothing in reply, but turned my face
to the wall, sick at heart, with my mind filled with a thousand
venomous doubts and suspicions. What was it that my wife
was concealing from me? Where had she been during that
strange expedition? I felt that I should have no peace until
I knew, and yet I shrank from asking her again after once
she had told me what was false. All the rest of the night I
tossed and tumbled, framing theory after theory, each more
unlikely than the last.
“ I should have gone to the City that day, but I was too dis-
turbed in my mind to be able to pay attention to business
matters. My wife seemed to be as upset as myself, and I
could see from the little questioning glances which she kept
shooting at me that she understood that I disbelieved her
statement, and that she was at her wits' end what to do. We
hardly exchanged a word during breakfast, and immediately
afterwards I went out for a walk, that I might think the mat-
ter out in the fresh morning air.
“I went as far as the Crystal Palace, spent an hour in the


THE YELLOW FACE
39
grounds, and was back in Norbury by one o'clock. It hap-
pened that my way took me past the cottage, and I stopped
for an instant to look at the windows, and to see if I could
catch a glimpse of the strange face which had looked out at
me on the day before. As I stood there, imagine my sur-
prise, Mr. Holmes, when the door suddenly opened and my
wife walked out.
“I was struck dumb with astonishment at the sight of her ;
but my emotions were nothing to those which showed them-
selves upon her face when our eyes met.
She seemed for an
instant to wish to shrink back inside the house again; and
then, seeing how useless all concealment must be, she came
forward, with a very white face and frightened eyes which be-
lied the smile upon her lips.
"Ah, Jack,' she said, 'I have just been in to see if I can
be of any assistance to our new neighbors. Why do you look
at me like that, Jack? You are not angry with me?'
"So,' said I, this is where you went during the night.'
What do you mean?' she cried.
«• You came here. I am sure of it. Who are these people,
that
you
should visit them at such an hour ?'
“I have not been here before.'
“How can you tell me what you know is false?' I cried.
"Your very voice changes as you speak. When have I ever
had a secret from you? I shall enter that cottage, and I shall
probe the matter to the bottom.'
“No, no, Jack, for God's sake!' she gasped, in incontrol-
lable emotion. Then, as I approached the door, she seized
my sleeve and pulled me back with convulsive strength.
“ I implore you not to do this, Jack,' she cried. 'I swear
that I will tell you everything some day, but nothing but mis-
ery can come of it if you enter that cottage.' Then, as I tried
to shake her off, she clung to me in a frenzy of entreaty.
“. Trust me, Jack !' she cried. “Trust me only this once.
You will never have cause to regret it. You know that I
would not have a secret from you if it were not for your own
6


40
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
sake. Our whole lives are at stake in this. If you come
home with me, all will be well. If you force your way into
that cottage, all is over between us.'
“ There was such earnestness, such despair, in her manner
that her words arrested me, and I stood irresolute before the
door.
“I will trust you on one condition, and on one condition
only,' said I at last. “It is that this mystery comes to an end
from now. You are at liberty to preserve your secret, but
you
must promise me that there shall be no more nightly visits,
no more doings which are kept from my knowledge. I am
willing to forget those which are passed if you will promise
that there shall be no more in the future.'
“I was sure that you would trust me,' she cried, with a
great sigh of relief. “It shall be just as you wish. Come
away-oh, come away up to the house.'
“Still pulling at my sleeve, she led me away from the cot-
tage. As we went I glanced back, and there was that yellow
livid face watching us out of the upper window. What link
could there be between that creature and my wife? Or bow
could the coarse, rough woman whom I had seen the day be-
fore be connected with her? It was a strange puzzle, and yet
I knew that my mind could never know ease again until I had
solved it.
“For two days after this I stayed at home, and my wife ap-
peared to abide loyally by our engagement, for, as far as I
know, she never stirred out of the house. On the third day,
however, I had ample evidence that her solemn promise was
not enough to hold her back from this secret influence which
drew her away from her husband and her duty.
“I had gone into town on that day, but I returned by the
2.40 instead of the 3.36, which is my usual train. As I en-
tered the house the maid ran into the hall with a startled
face.
“Where is your mistress ?" I asked.
“I think that she has gone out for a walk,' she answered.


THE YELLOW FACE
41
“My mind was instantly filled with suspicion. I rushed
upstairs to make sure that she was not in the house. As I
did so I happened to glance out of one of the upper windows,
and saw the maid with whom I had just been speaking run-
ning across the field in the direction of the cottage. Then of
course I saw exactly what it all meant. My wife had gone
over there, and had asked the servant to call her if I should
return. Tingling with anger, I rushed down and hurried
across, determined to end the matter once and forever. I
saw my wife and the maid hurrying back along the lane, but I
did not stop to speak with them. In the cottage lay the secret
which was casting a shadow over my life. I vowed that, come
what might, it should be a secret no longer. I did not even
knock when I reached it, but turned the handle and rushed
into the passage.
“It was all still and quiet upon the ground floor. In the
kitchen a kettle was singing on the fire, and a large black cat
lay coiled up in the basket; but there was no sign of the
woman whom I had seen before. I ran into the other room,
but it was equally deserted. Then I rushed up the stairs, only
to find two other rooms empty and deserted at the top. There
was no one at all in the whole house. The furniture and pict-
ures were of the most common and vulgar description, save in
the one chamber at the window of which I had seen the strange
face. That was comfortable and elegant, and all my suspi-
cions rose into a fierce, bitter fame when I saw that on the
mantelpiece stood a copy of a full-length photograph of my
wife, which had been taken at my request only three months
ago.
"I stayed long enough to make certain that the house was
absolutely empty. Then I left it, feeling a weight at my heart
such as I had never had before. My wife came out into the
hall as I entered my house; but I was too hurt and angry to
speak with her, and pushing past her, I made my way into
my
study. She followed me, however, before I could close the
door.


42
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“I am sorry that I broke my promise, Jack,' said she ; but
if
you
knew all the circumstances I am sure that
you
would
forgive me.'
""Tell me everything, then,' said I.
“I cannot, Jack, I cannot,' she cried.
“«Until you tell me who it is that has been living in that
cottage, and who it is to whom you have given that photo-
graph, there can never be any confidence between us,' said I,
and breaking away from her, I left the house. That was yes-
terday, Mr. Holmes, and I have not seen her since, nor do I
know anything more about this strange business. It is the
first shadow that has come between us, and it has so shaken
me that I do not know what I should do for the best. Sud-
denly this morning it occurred to me that you were the man
to advise me, so I have hurried to you now, and I place my-
self unreservedly in your hands. If there is any point which
I have not made clear, pray question me about it. But, above
all, teil me quickly what I am to do, for this misery is more
than I can bear."
Holmes and I had listened with the utmost interest to this
extraordinary statement, which had been delivered in the
jerky, broken fashion of a man who is under the influence of
extreme emotion. My companion sat silent now for some
time, with his chin upon his hand, lost in thought.
“Tell me,” said he at last, could you swear that this was
a man's face which you saw at the window ?”
“Each time that I saw it I was some distance away from
it, so that it is impossible for me to say."
“You appear, however, to have been disagreeably impressed
by it.”
“It seemed to be of an unnatural color, and to have a
strange rigidity about the features. When I approached, it
vanished with a jerk.”
“How long is it since your wife asked you for a hundred
pounds ?”
“Nearly two months."


THE YELLOW FACE
43
“Have you ever seen a photograph of her first husband ?”
“No; there was a great fire at Atlanta very shortly after
his death, and all her papers were destroyed.
“And yet she had a certificate of death. You say that you
saw it.”
“Yes; she got a duplicate after the fire."
“Did you ever meet any one who knew her in America ?”
"No."
"Did she ever talk of revisiting the place ?"
"No."
“Or get letters from it ?”
“ No.”
Thank you.
tle now,
I should like to think over the matter a lit-
If the cottage is now permanently deserted we may
have some difficulty. If, on the other hand, as I fancy is
more likely, the inmates were warned of your coming, and left
before you entered yesterday, then they may be back now,
and we should clear it all up easily. Let me advise you, then,
to return to Norbury, and to examine the windows of the cot-
tage again. If you have reason to believe that it is inhabited,
do not force your way in, but send a wire to my friend and
me. We shall be with you within an hour of receiving it, and
we shall then very soon get to the bottom of the business."
“ And if it is still empty?”.
“In that case I shall come out to-morrow and talk it over
with you. 'Good-by; and, above all, do not fret until you
know that you really have a cause for it."
“I am afraid that this is a bad business, Watson,” said my
companion, as he returned after accompanying Mr. Grant
Munro to the door. “ What do
you
make of it?”
“ It had an ugly sound,” I answered.
There's blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken.”
“ And who is the blackmailer?”
"Well, it must be the creature who lives in the only com-
fortable room in the place, and has her photograph above his
fireplace. Upon my word, Watson, there is something very
“ Yes.


44
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
attractive about that livid face at the window, and I would not
have missed the case for worlds."
“You have a theory?"
“Yes, a provisional one. But I shall be surprised if it does
not turn out to be correct. This woman's first husband is in
that cottage."
“Why do you think so ?”
“How else can we explain her frenzied anxiety that her
second one should not enter it? The facts, as I read them,
are something like this: This woman was married in America.
Her husband developed some hateful qualities; or shall we
say that he contracted some loathsome disease, and became a
leper or an imbecile? She flies from him at last, returns to
England, changes her name, and starts her life, as she thinks,
afresh. She has been married three years, and believes that
her position is quite secure, having shown her husband the
death certificate of some man whose name she has assumed,
when suddenly her whereabouts is discovered by her first hus-
band; or, we may suppose, by some unscrupulous woman who
has attached herself to the invalid. "They write to the wife,
and threaten to come and expose her. She asks for a hundred
pounds, and endeavors to buy them off. They come in spite
of it, and when the husband mentions casually to the wife that
there are new-comers in the cottage, she knows in some way
that they are her pursuers. She waits until her husband is
asleep, and then she rushes down to endeavor to persuade
them to leave her in peace. Having no success, she goes
again next morning, and her husband meets her, as he has
told us, as she comes out. She promises him then not to go
there again, but two days afterwards the hope of getting rid of
those dreadful neighbors was too strong for her, and she made
another attempt, taking down with her the photograph which
had probably been demanded from her. In the midst of this
interview the maid rushed in to say that the master had come
home, on which the wife, knowing that he would come straight
down to the cottage, hurried the inmates out at the back door,


THE YELLOW FACE
45
into the grove of fir-trees, probably, which was mentioned as
standing near. In this way he found the place deserted. I
shall be very much surprised, however, if it is still so when he
reconnoitres it this evening. What do you think of my the-
ory?"
“It is all surmise."
“But at least it covers all the facts. When new facts come
to our knowledge which cannot be covered by it, it will be
time enough to reconsider it. We can do nothing more until
we have a message from our friend at Norbury."
But we had not a very long time to wait for that. It came
just as we had finished our tea. “The cottage is still ten-
anted," it said. “Have seen the face again at the window.
Will meet the seven-o'clock train, and will take no steps until
you arrive."
He was waiting on the platform when we stepped out, and
we could see in the light of the station lamps that he was very
pale, and quivering with agitation.
“They are still there, Mr. Holmes," said he, laying his
hand hard upon my friend's sleeve. “I saw lights in the
cottage as I came down. We shall settle it now once and for
all.”
“What is your plan, then?” asked Holmes, as he walked
down the dark tree-lined road.
“I am going to force my way in and see for myself who is
in the house. I wish you both to be there as witnesses."
“You are quite determined to do this, in spite of your
wife's warning that it is better that you should not solve the
mystery?"
"Yes, I am determined."
Well, I think that you are in the right. Any truth is
better than indefinite doubt. We had better go up at once.
Of course, legally, we are putting ourselves hopelessly in the
wrong; but I think that it is worth it."
It was a very dark night, and a thin rain began to fall as


46
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
we turned from the high-road into a narrow lane, deeply
rutted, with hedges on either side. Mr. Grant Munro pushed
impatiently forward, however, and we stumbled after him as
best we could.
“There are the lights of my house,” he murmured, point-
ing to a glimmer among the trees. “And here is the cottage
which I am going to enter."
We turned a corner in the lane as he spoke, and there was
the building close beside us. A yellow bar falling across the
black foreground showed that the door was not quite closed,
and one window in the upper story was brightly illuminated.
As we looked, we saw a dark blur moving across the blind.
“ There is that creature !" cried Grant Munro.
“ You can
see for yourselves that some one is there. Now follow me,
and we shall soon know all.”
We approached the door ; but suddenly a woman appeared
out of the shadow and stood in the golden track of the lamp-
light. I could not see her face in the darkness, but her arms
were thrown out in an attitude of entreaty.
“For God's sake, don't, Jack !" she cried. “I had a pre-
sentiment that you would come this evening. Think better of
it, dear! Trust me again, and you will never have cause to
regret it.”
“I have trusted you too long, Effie,” he cried, sternly.
Leave go of me! I must pass you. My friends and I are
going to settle this matter once and forever!” He pushed
her to one side, and we followed closely after him. As he
threw the door open an old woman ran out in front of him
and tried to bar his passage, but he thrust her back, and an
instant afterwards we were all upon the stairs. Grant Munro
rushed into the lighted room at the top, and we entered at his
heels.
It was a cosey, well-furnished apartment, with two candles
burning upon the table and two upon the mantelpiece. In
the corner, stooping over a desk, there sat what appeared to
be a little girl. Her face was turned away as we entered, but


THE YELLOW FACE
47
we could see that she was dressed in a red frock, and that
she had long white gloves on. As she whisked round to us,
I gave a cry of surprise and horror. The face which she
turned towards us was of the strangest livid tini, and the
features were absolutely devoid of any expression. An in-
stant later the mystery was explained. Holmes, with a laugh,
passed his hand behind the child's ear, a mask peeled off from
her countenance, and there was a little coal-black negress,
with all her white teeth flashing in amusement at our amazed
faces. I burst out laughing, out of sympathy with her mer-
riment; but Grant Munro stood staring, with his hand clutch-
ing his throat.
"My God !" he cried. “What can be the meaning of
this?”
“I will tell you the meaning of it,” cried the lady, sweep-
ing into the room with a proud, set face. “You have forced
me, against my own judgment, to tell you, and now we must
both make the best of it. My husband died at Atlanta. My
child survived."
" Your child ?”
She drew a large silver locket from her bosom. “You have
never seen this open.”
“I understood that it did not open.”
She touched a spring, and the front hinged back. There
was a portrait within of a man strikingly handsome and intel-
ligent-looking, but bearing unmistakable signs upon his feat-
ures of his African descent.
“That is John Hebron, of Atlanta," said the lady, “and a
nobler man never walked the earth. I cut myself off from
my race in order to wed him, but never once while he lived
did I for an instant regret it. It was our misfortune that our
only child took after his people rather than mine. It is often
so in such matches, and little Lucy is darker far than ever her
father was. But dark or fair, she is my own dear little girlie,
and her mother's pet." The little creature ran across at the
words and nestled up against the lady's dress. “When I left


48
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
her in America," she continued, "it was only because her
health was weak, and the change might have done her harm.
She was given to the care of a faithful Scotch woman who had
once been our servant. Never for an instant did I dream of
disowning her. as my child. But when chance threw you in
my way, Jack, and I learned to love you, I feared to tell you
about
my child. God forgive me, I feared that I should lose
you, and I had not the courage to tell you. I had to choose
between you, and in my weakness I turned away
from
my own
little girl. For three years I have kept her existence a secret
from
you,
but I heard from the nurse, and I knew that all was
well with her. At last, however, there came an overwhelming
desire to see the child once more. I struggled against it, but
in vain. Though I knew the danger, I determined to have the
child over, if it were but for a few weeks. I sent a hundred
pounds to the nurse, and I gave her instructions about this
cottage, so that she might come as a neighbor, without my
appearing to be in any way connected with her. I pushed
my precautions so far as to order her to keep the child in
the house during the daytime, and to cover up her little face
and hands so that even those who might see her at the win-
dow should not gossip about there being a black child in
the neighborhood. If I had been less cautious I might have
been more wise, but I was half crazy with fear that you
should learn the truth.
“It was you who told me first that the cottage was occu-
pied. I should have waited for the morning, but I could not
sleep for excitement, and so at last I slipped out, knowing
how difficult it is to awake you. But you saw me go, and that
was the beginning of my troubles. Next day you had my
secret at your mercy, but you nobly refrained from pursuing
your advantage. Three days later, however, the nurse and
child only just escaped from the back door as you rushed in
at the front one. And now to-night you at last know all, and
I ask you what is to become of us, my child and me?" She
clasped her hands and waited for an answer.


THE YELLOW FACE
49
It was a long ten minutes before Grant Munro broke the
silence, and when his answer came it was one of which I love
to think. He lifted the little child, kissed her, and then, still
carrying her, he held his other hand out to his wife and turned
towards the door.
“We can talk it over more comfortably at home,” said he.
“I am not a very good man, Effie, but I think that I am a
better one than you have given me credit for being."
Holmes and I followed them down the lane, and my friend
plucked at my sleeve as we came out.
“I think," said he, " that we shall be of more use in Lon-
don than in Norbury."
Not another word did he say of the case until late that
night, when he was turning away, with his lighted candle, for
his bedroom.
Watson," said he, “if it should ever strike you that I am
getting a little over-confident in my powers, or giving less
pains to a case than it deserves, kindly whisper · Norbury'in
my ear, and I shall be infinitely obliged to you."


Adventure XV
THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
HHORTLY after my marriage I had bought a
connection in the Paddington district. Old Mr.
Farquhar, from whom I purchased it, had at one
time an excellent general practice; but his age,
and an affliction of the nature of St. Vitus's
dance from which he suffered, had very much thinned it.
The public not unnaturally goes on the principle that he
who would heal others must himself be whole, and looks
askance at the curative powers of the man whose own case
is beyond the reach of his drugs. Thus as my predecessor
weakened his practice declined, until when I purchased it
from him it had sunk from twelve hundred to little more
than three hundred a year. I had confidence, however, in my
own youth and energy, and was convinced that in a very few
years the concern would be as flourishing as ever.
For three months after taking over the practice I was kept
very closely at work, and saw little of my friend Sherlock
Holmes, for I was too busy to visit Baker Street, and he sel-
dom went anywhere himself save upon professional business.
I was surprised, therefore, when, one morning in June, as I sat
reading the British Medical Journal after breakfast, I heard
a ring at the bell, followed by the high, somewhat strident
tones of my old companion's voice.
“Ah, my dear Watson,” said he, striding into the room,“ I
am very delighted to see you! I trust that Mrs. Watson has
entirely recovered from all the little excitements connected
with our adventure of the Sign of Four.”


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
53
2
“Thank you, we are both very well,” said I, shaking him
warmly by the hand.
"And I hope, also," he continued, sitting down in the
rocking-chair, " that the cares of medical practice have not
entirely obliterated the interest which you used to take in
our little deductive problems.”
“On the contrary," I answered, “it was only last night
that I was looking over my old notes, and classifying some
of our past results.”
“I trust that
you
don't consider
your
collection closed."
“Not at all. I should wish nothing better than to have
some more of such experiences.”
“To-day, for example ?"
“Yes, to-day, if you like."
“ And as far off as Birmingham ?"
Certainly, if you wish it.”
“ And the practice ?"
“I do my neighbor's when he goes. He is always ready
to work off the debt."
“Ha! nothing could be better," said Holmes, leaning back
in his chair and looking keenly at me from under his half-
closed lids. “I perceive that you have been unwell lately.
Summer colds are always a little trying."
“I was confined to the house by a severe chill for three
days last week. I thought, however, that I had cast off every
trace of it.”
“So you have. You look remarkably robust."
“How, then, did you know of it?”
"My dear fellow, you know my methods."
“ You deduced it, then?"
“Certainly."
“ And from what ?"
" From your slippers."
I glanced down at the new patent-leathers which I was
wearing “ How on earth—" I began, but Holmes answered
my question before it was asked.


52
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“Your slippers are new," he said. “You could not have
had them more than a few weeks. The soles which you are
at this moment presenting to me are slightly scorched. For
a moment I thought they might have got wet and been burned
in the drying. But near the instep there is a small circular
wafer of paper with the shopman's hieroglyphics upon it.
Damp would of course have removed this. You had, then,
been sitting with your feet outstretched to the fire, which a
man would hardly do even in so wet a June as this if he were
in his full health.”
Like all Holmes's reasoning the thing seemed simplicity
itself when it was once explained. He read the thought upon
my features, and his smile had a tinge of bitterness.
“I am afraid that I rather give myself away when I explain,"
said he. “Results without causes are much more impressive.
You are ready to come to Birmingham, then?"
“Certainly. What is the case ?"
“You shall hear it all in the train. My client is outside in
a four-wheeler. Can you come at once ?"
“In an instant.” I scribbled a note to my neighbor, rushed
upstairs to explain the matter to my wife, and joined Holmes
upon the door-step.
"Your neighbor is a doctor," said he, nodding at the brass
plate.
“Yes; he bought a practice as I did.”
“ An old-established one ?”
“Just the same as mine. Both have been ever since the
houses were built."
“Ah! then you got hold of the best of the two."
“ I think I did. But how do you know?”
“By the steps, my boy. Yours are worn three inches
deeper than his. But this gentleman in the cab is my client,
Mr. Hall Pycroft. Allow me to introduce you to him. Whip
your horse up, cabby, for we have only just time to catch our
train."
The man whom I found myself facing was a well-built,


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
53
fresh-complexioned young fellow, with a frank, honest face
and a slight, crisp, yellow moustache. He wore a very shiny
top hat and a neat suit of sober black, which made him look
what he was—a smart young City man, of the class who have
been labelled cockneys, but who give us our crack volunteer
regiments, and who turn out more fine athletes and sports-
men than any body of men in these islands. His round,
ruddy face was naturally full of cheeriness, but the corners of
his mouth seemed to me to be pulled down in a half-comical
distress. It was not, however, until we were all in a first-class
carriage and well started upon our journey to Birmingham
that I was able to learn what the trouble was which had driven
him to Sherlock Holmes.
“We have a clear run here of seventy minutes,” Holmes
remarked. "I want you, Mr. Hall Pycroft, to tell my friend
your very interesting experience exactly as you have told it to
me, or with more detail if possible. It will be of use to me
to hear the succession of events again. It is a case, Watson,
which may prove to have something in it, or may prove to
have nothing, but which, at least, presents those unusual and
outré features which are as dear to you as they are to me.
Now, Mr. Pycroft, I shall not interrupt you again."
Our young companion looked at me with a twinkle in his
eye.
The worst of the story is, said he, that I show myself up
as such a confounded fool. Of course it may work out all
right, and I don't see that I could have done otherwise ; but
if I have lost my crib and get nothing in exchange I shall feel
what a soft Johnnie I have been. I'm not very good at tell-
ing a story, Dr. Watson, but it is like this with me :
I used to have a billet at Coxon & Woodhouse's, of Dra.
per's Gardens, but they were let in early in the spring through
the Venezuelan loan, as no doubt you remember, and came a
nasty cropper. I had been with them five years, and old
Coxon gave me a ripping good testimonial when the smash
came, but of course we clerks were all turned adrift, the twenty-


54
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
seven of us. I tried here and tried there, but there were
lots of other chaps on the same lay as myself, and it was a
perfect frost for a long time. I had been taking three pounds
a week at Coxon's, and I had saved about seventy of them,
but I soon worked my way through that and out at the other
end. I was fairly at the end of my tether at last, and could
hardly find the stamps to answer the advertisements or the
envelopes to stick them to. I had worn out my boots pad
dling up office stairs, and I seemed just as far from getting a
billet as ever.
At last I saw a vacancy at Mawson & Williams's, the great
stock-broking arm in Lombard Street. I dare say E. C. is not
much in your line, but I can tell you that this is about the
richest house in London. The advertisement was to be an-
swered by letter only. I sent in my testimonial and applica-
tion, but without the least hope of getting it. Back came an
answer by return, saying that if I would appear next Monday
I might take over my new duties at once, provided that my
appearance was satisfactory. No one knows how these things
are worked. Some people say that the manager just plunges
his hand into the heap and takes the first that comes. Any-
how it was my innings that time, and I don't ever wish to feel
better pleased. The screw was a pound a week rise, and the
duties just about the same as at Coxon's.
And now I come to the queer part of the business. I was
in diggings out Hampstead way, 17 Potter's Terrace. Well,
I was sitting doing a smoke that very evening after I had
been promised the appointment, when up came my landlady
with a card which had “ Arthur Pinner, Financial Agent,”
printed upon it. I had never heard the name before and
could not imagine what he wanted with me; but, of course, I
asked her to show him up. In he walked, a middle-sized,
dark-haired, dark-eyed, black-bearded man, with a touch of
the Sheeny about his nose. He had a brisk kind of
way
with
him and spoke sharply, like a man who knew the value of
time.


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
55
“Mr. Hall Pycroft, I believe ?" said he.
“Yes, sir," I answered, pushing a chair towards him.
“ Lately engaged at Coxon & Woodhouse's ?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And now on the staff of Mawson's."
“Quite so."
"Well,” said he, “ the fact is that I have heard some really
extraordinary stories about your financial ability. You re-
member Parker, who used to be Coxon's manager? He can
never say enough about it.”
Of course I was pleased to hear this. I had always been
pretty sharp in the office, but I had never dreamed that I was
talked about in the City in this fashion.
“You have a good memory ?” said he.
"Pretty fair," I answered, modestly.
Have you kept in touch with the market while
you have
been out of work?” he asked.
“ Yes. I read the stock-exchange list every morning."
"Now that shows real application !" he cried. “That is
the way to prosper! You won't mind my testing you, will
you? Let me see. How are Ayrshires ?"
“A hundred and six and a quarter to a hundred and five
and seven-eighths.”
“ And New Zealand consolidated ?”
“A hundred and four.”
“ And British Broken Hills ?”
“ Seven to seven-and-six."
“Wonderful!" he cried, with his hands up. “This quite
fits in with all that I had heard. My boy, my boy, you are
very much too good to be a clerk at Mawson's !"
This outburst rather astonished me, as you can think.
“Well,” said I, “other people don't think quite so much of
me as you seem to do, Mr. Pinner. I had a hard enough fight
to get this berth, and I am very glad to have it."
“Pooh, man; you should soar above it. You are not in
your true sphere. Now, I'll tell you how it stands with me.


56
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
What I have to offer is little enough when measured by your
ability, but when compared with Mawson's, it's light to dark.
Let me see.
When do you go to Mawson's ?”
“On Monday.”
“Ha, ha! I think I would risk a little sporting flutter that
you don't go there at all.”
“Not go to Mawson's?"
“No, sir. By that day you will be the business manager
of the Franco-Midland Hardware Company, Limited, with a
hundred and thirty-four branches in the towns and villages of
France, not counting one in Brussels and one in San Remo."
This took my breath away. “I never heard of it,” said I.
"Very likely not. It has been kept very quiet, for the cap-
ital was all privately subscribed, and it's too good a thing to
let the public into. My brother, Harry Pinner, is promoter,
and joins the board after allotment as managing director.
He knew I was in the swim down here, and asked me to pick
up a good man cheap. A young, pushing man with plenty of
snap about him. Parker spoke of you, and that brought me
here to-night. We can only offer you a beggarly five hundred
to start with.”
“Five hundred a year !" I shouted.
“Only that at the beginning; but you are to have an over-
riding commission of one per cent. on all business done by
your agents, and you may take my word for it that this will
come to more than your salary."
“But I know nothing about hardware.”
“Tut, my boy; you know about figures."
My head buzzed, and I could hardly sit still in my chair.
But suddenly a little chill of doubt came upon me.
“I must be frank with you,” said I. “Mawson only gives
me two hundred, but Mawson is safe. Now, really, I know
so little about your company that—"
"Ah, smart, smart!" he cried, in a kind of ecstasy of de-
light. "You are the very man for us. You are not to be
talked over, and quite right, too. Now, here's a note for a
.


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
57
hundred pounds, and if you think that we can do business
you may just slip it into your pocket as an advance upon
your salary."
“That is very handsome," said I. “ When should I take
over my new duties ?”
“Be in Birmingham to-morrow at one," said he. “I have a
note in my pocket here which you will take to my brother.
You will find him at 126b Corporation Street, where the tem-
porary offices of the company are situated. Of course he
must confirm your engagement, but between ourselves it will
be all right.”
“Really, I hardly know how to express my gratitude, Mr.
Pinner,” said I.
“Not at all, my boy. You have only got your deserts.
There are one or two small things—mere formalities—which
I must arrange with you. You have a bit of paper beside
you there. Kindly write upon it 'I am perfectly willing to
act as business manager to the Franco-Midland Hardware
Company, Limited, at a minimum salary of £500.”
I did as he asked, and he put the paper in his pocket.
“There is one other detail,” said he. “What do you
intend
to do about Mawson's?”
I had forgotten all about Mawson's in my joy. “I'll write
and resign,” said I.
“Precisely what I don't want you to do. I had a row over
you with Mawson's manager. I had gone up to ask him
about you, and he was very offensive; accused me of coaxing
you away from the service of the firm, and that sort of thing
At last I fairly lost my temper. If you want good men you
should pay them a good price,' said I.
“He would rather have our small price than your big
one,' said he.
" I'll lay you a fiver,' said I,‘that when he has my offer
you'll never so much as hear from him again.'
« * Done!' said he. We picked him out of the gutter, and
he won't leave us so easily.' Those were his very words.”


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
59
“We have not got our name up yet, for we only secured
these temporary premises last week. Come up with me, and
we will talk the matter over."
I followed him to the top of a very lofty stair, and there,
right under the slates, were a couple of empty, dusty little
rooms, uncarpeted and uncurtained, into which he led me. I
had thought of a great office with shining tables and rows of
clerks, such as I was used to, and f dare say I stared rather
straight at the two deal chairs and one little table, which,
with a ledger and a waste-paper basket, made up the whole
furniture.
“Don't be disheartened, Mr. Pycroft," said my new ac-
quaintance, seeing the length of my face. “Rome was not
built in a day, and we have lots of money at our backs, though
we don't cut much dash yet in offices. Pray sit down, and
let me have your letter.”
I gave it to him, and he read it over very carefully.
“You seem to have made a vast impression upon my broth-
er Arthur," said he ; "and I know that he is a pretty shrewd
judge. He swears by London, you know; and I by Birming-
ham; but this time I shall follow his advice. Pray consider
yourself definitely engaged."
“What are my duties ?” I asked.
“You will eventually manage the great depot in Paris,
which will pour a flood of English crockery into the shops of
a hundred and thirty-four agents in France. The purchase
will be completed in a week, and meanwhile you will remain
in Birmingham and make yourself useful.”
“ How ?”
For answer, he took a big red book out of a drawer.
“This is a directory of Paris," said he,“ with the trades
after the names of the people. I want you to take it home
with you, and to mark off all the hardware-sellers, with their
addresses. It would be of the greatest use to me to have
them.”
“Surely there are classified lists ?" I suggested.


60
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“ Not reliable ones. Their system is different from ours.
Stick at it, and let me have the lists by Monday, at twelve.
Good-day, Mr. Pycroft. If you continue to show zeal and
intelligence you will find the company a good master.”
I went back to the hotel with the big book under my arm,
and with very conflicting feelings in my breast. On the one
hand, I was definitely engaged and had a hundred pounds in
my pocket; on the other, the look of the offices, the absence
of name on the wall, and other of the points which would
strike a business man had left a bad impression as to the po-
sition of my employers. However, come what might, I had
my money, so I settled down to my task. All Sunday I was
kept hard at work, and yet by Monday I had only got as far
as H. I went round to my employer, found him in the same
dismantled kind of room, and was told to keep at it until
Wednesday, and then come again. On Wednesday it was still
unfinished, so I hammered away until Friday—that is, yester-
day. Then I brought it round to Mr. Harry Pinner.
“Thank you very much,” said he ; “I fear that I under-
rated the difficulty of the task. This list will be of very ma-
terial assistance to me.”
“ It took some time," said I.
“And now,” said he, “I want you to make a list of the
furniture shops, for they all sell crockery."
“ Very good.”
" And you can come up to-morrow evening, at seven, and
let me know how you are getting on.
Don't overwork your-
self. A couple of hours at Day's Music Hall in the evening
would do you no harm after your labors.” He laughed as
he spoke, and I saw with a thrill that his second tooth upon
the left-hand side had been very badly stuffed with gold.
Sherlock Holmes rubbed his hands with delight, and I
stared with astonishment at our client.
“ You may well look surprised, Dr. Watson; but it is this
way,” said he : “When I was speaking to the other chap in


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
61
London, at the time that he laughed at my not going to Maw-
son's, I happened to notice that his tooth was stuffed in this
very identical fashion. The glint of the gold in each case
caught my eye, you see. When I put that with the voice and
figure being the same, and only those things altered which
might be changed by a razor or a wig, I could not doubt that
it was the same man. Of course you expect two brothers to
be alike, but not that they should have the same tooth stuffed
in the same way. He bowed me out, and I found myself in
the street, hardly knowing whether I was on my head or my
heels. Back I went to my hotel, put my head in a basin of
cold water, and tried to think it out. Why had he sent me
from London to Birmingham? Why had he got there before
me? And why had he written a letter from himself to him-
self? It was altogether too much for me, and I could make
no sense of it. And then suddenly it struck me that what was
dark to me might be very light to Mr. Sherlock Holmes. I
had just time to get up to town by the night train to see him
this morning, and to bring you both back with me to Bir-
mingham."
There was a pause after the stock-broker's clerk had con-
cluded his surprising experience. Then Sherlock Holmes
cocked his eye at me, leaning back on the cushions with a
pleased and yet critical face, like a connoisseur who has just
taken his first sip of a comet vintage.
“Rather fine, Watson, is it not ?" said he. “There are
points in it which please me. I think that
you
will
agree
with me that an interview with Mr. Arthur Harry Pinner in
the temporary offices of the Franco-Midland Hardware Com-
pany, Limited, would be a rather interesting experience for
both of us.”
“But how can we do it?" I asked.
“Oh, easily enough," said Hall Pycroft, cheerily. “You
are two friends of mine who are in want of a billet, and what
could be more natural than that I should bring you both
round to the managing director ?"


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
63
recognize him, and I could see by the astonishment depicted
upon our conductor's face that this was by no means the
usual appearance of his employer.
“ You look ill, Mr. Pinner !” he exclaimed.
“ Yes, I am not very well,” answered the other, making
obvious efforts to pull himself together, and licking his dry
lips before he spoke. “Who are these gentlemen whom you
have brought with you?"
“One is Mr. Harris, of Bermondsey, and the other is Mr.
Price, of this town,” said our clerk, glibly. “They are friends
of mine and gentlemen of experience, but they have been out
of a place for some little time, and they hoped that perhaps
you might find an opening for them in the company's employ-
ment."
“Very possibly! very possibly!" cried Mr. Pinner with a
ghastly smile. "Yes, I have no doubt that we shall be able
to do something for you. What is your particular line, Mr.
Harris?"
“I am an accountant,” said Holmes.
“Ah yes, we shall want something of the sort. And you,
Mr. Price ?”
"A clerk," said I.
“I have every hope that the company may accommodate
you. I will let you know about it as soon as we come to any
conclusion. And now I beg that you will go. For God's sake
leave me to myself !”
These last words were shot out of him, as though the con-
straint which he was evidently setting upon himself had sud-
denly and utterly burst asunder. Holmes and I glanced at
each other, and Hall Pycroft took a step towards the table.
“ You forget, Mr. Pinner, that I am here by appointment to
receive some directions from you,” said he.
“Certainly, Mr. Pycroft, certainly," the other resumed in a
calmer tone. * You
may wait here a moment; and there is
no reason why your friends should not wait with you. I will
be entirely at your service in three minutes, if I might tres-


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
65
corner, the corner nearest the room which we had left, there
was a second door. Holmes sprang to it and pulled it open.
A coat and waistcoat were lying on the floor, and from a hook
behind the door, with his own braces round his neck, was
hanging the managing director of the Franco-Midland Hard-
ware Company. His knees were drawn up, his head hung
at a dreadful angle to his body, and the clatter of his heels
against the door made the noise which had broken in upon
our conversation. In an instant I had caught him round the
waist, and held him up while Holmes and Pycroft untied
the elastic bands which had disappeared between the livid
creases of skin.
Then we carried him into the other room,
where he lay with a clay-colored face, puffing his purple lips
in and out with every breath-a dreadful wreck of all that
he had been but five minutes before.
“What do you think of him, Watson?" asked Holmes.
I stooped over him and examined him. His pulse was
feeble and intermittent, but his breathing grew longer, and
there was a little shivering of his eyelids, which showed a
thin white slit of ball beneath.
“It has been touch and go with him," said I,“ but he'll live
now. Just open that window, and hand me the water carafe.”
I undid his collar, poured the cold water over his face, and
raised and sank his arms until he drew a long, natural breath.
“ It's only a question of time now,” said I, as I turned away
from him.
Holmes stood by the table, with his hands deep in his
trousers' pockets and his chin upon his breast.
“I suppose we ought to call the police in now," said he.
“And yet I confess that I'd like to give them a complete case
when they come.”
“It's a blessed mystery to me,” cried Pycroft, scratching
his head. “Whatever they wanted to bring me all the way
up here for, and then"
“ Pooh! All that is clear enough,” said Holmes, impa-
tiently. “It is this last sudden move."


66
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“You understand the rest, then?”
“I think that it is fairly obvious. What do you say, Wat-
son?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I must confess that I am out
of my depths," said I.
“Oh, surely if you consider the events at first they can
only point to one conclusion.”
“What do you make of them ?”
“Well, the whole thing hinges upon two points. The first
is the making of Pycroft write a declaration by which he en-
tered the service of this preposterous company. Do you not
see how very suggestive that is ?"
“I am afraid I miss the point.”
“Well, why did they want him to do it? Not as a business
matter, for these arrangements are usually verbal, and there
was no earthly business reason why this should be an excep-
tion. Don't you see, my young friend, that they were very
anxious to obtain a specimen of your handwriting, and had
no other way of doing it?"
“And why?"
Quite so. Why? When we answer that we have made
some progress with our little problem. Why? There can be
only one adequate reason. Some one wanted to learn to imi-
tate your writing, and had to procure a specimen of it first.
And now if we pass on to the second point we find that each
throws light upon the other. That point is the request made
by Pinner that you should not resign your place, but should
leave the manager of this important business in the full ex-
pectation that a Mr. Hall Pycroft, whom he had never seen,
was about to enter the office upon the Monday morning."
My God !" cried our client, “what a blind beetle I have
been!"
“Now you see the point about the handwriting. Suppose
that some one turned up in your place who wrote a completely
different hand from that in which you had applied for the va-
cancy, of course the game would have been up. But in the
66


THE STOCK-BROKER'S CLERK
67
interval the rogue had learned to imitate you, and his posi-
tion was therefore secure, as I presume that nobody in the
office had ever set eyes upon you."
“Not a soul," groaned Hall Pycroft.
“Very good. Of course it was of the utmost importance
to prevent you from thinking better of it, and also to keep
you from coming into contact with any one who might tell
you
that
your double was at work in Mawson's office. There.
fore they gave you a handsome advance on your salary, and
ran you off to the Midlands, where they gave you enough
work to do to prevent your going to London, where you might
have burst their little game up. That is all plain enough.”
“But why should this man pretend to be his own brother ?”
“Well, that is pretty clear also. There are evidently only
two of them in it. The other is personating you at the office.
This one acted as your engager, and then found that he could
not find you an employer without admitting a third person
into his plot. That he was most unwilling to do. He changed
his appearance as far as he could, and trusted that the like-
ness, which you could not fail to observe, would be put down
to a family resemblance. But for the happy chance of the
gold stuffing, your suspicions would probably never have been
aroused.”
Hall Pycroft shook his clinched hands in the air. “Good
Lord I” he cried, “while I have been fooled in this
way,
what
has this other Hall Pycroft been doing at Mawson's? What
should we do, Mr. Holmes? Tell me what to do.”
“We must wire to Mawson's.”
They shut at twelve on Saturdays."
“Never mind. There may be some door-keeper or attend.
ant"
"Ah yes, they keep a permanent guard there on account of
the value of the securities that they hold. I remember hear..
ing it talked of in the City.”
“Very good; we shall wire to him, and see if all is well,
and if a clerk of your name is working there. That is clear.


68
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
enough; but what is not so clear is why at sight of us one
of the rogues should instantly walk out of the room and hang
himself.”
“The paper !" croaked a voice behind us.
The man was
sitting up, blanched and ghastly, with returning reason in his
eyes, and hands which rubbed nervously at the broad red
band which still encircled his throat.
“The paper! Of course !" yelled Holmes, in a paroxysm
of excitement. “Idiot that I was! I thought so much of our
visit that the paper never entered my head for an instant. To
be sure, the secret must lie there.” He flattened it out upon
the table, and a cry of triumph burst from his lips. “Look
at this, Watson,” he cried. “It is a London paper, an early
edition of the Evening Standard. Here is what we want.
Look at the head-lines : ‘Crime in the City Murder at
Mawson & Williams's. Gigantic attempted Robbery. Capt.
ure of the Criminal. Here, Watson, we are all equally anx-
ious to hear it, so kindly read it aloud to us.”
It appeared from its position in the paper to have been the
one event of importance in town, and the account of it ran in
this way :
“A desperate attempt at robbery, culminating in the death
of one man and the capture of the criminal, occurred this
afternoon in the City. For some time back Mawson & Will-
iams, the famous financial house, have been the guardians of
securities which amount in the aggregate to a sum of consid-
erably over a million sterling. So conscious was the man-
ager of the responsibility which devolved upon him in conse-
quence of the great interests at stake that safes of the very
latest construction have been employed, and an armed watch-
man has been left day and night in the building. It appears
that last week a new clerk named Hall Pycroft was engaged
by the firm. This person appears to have been none other
than Beddington, the famous forger and cracksman, who, with
his brother, has only recently emerged from a five years' spell
of penal servitude. By some means, which are not yet clear,


Eldventure EVT
THE “GLORIA SCOTT"
HAVE some papers here,” said my friend Sher-
lock Holmes, as we sat one winter's night on
either side of the fire," which I really think,
Watson, that it would be worth your while to
glance over. These are the documents in the
extraordinary case of the Gloria Scott, and this is the mes-
sage which struck Justice of the Peace Trevor dead with hor-
ror when he read it."
He had picked from a drawer a little tarnished cylinder,
and, undoing the tape, he handed me a short note scrawled
upon a half-sheet of slate-gray paper.
" The supply of game for London is going steadily up,” it
ran. "Head-keeper Hudson, we believe, has been now told
to receive all orders for fly-paper and for preservation of your
hen-pheasant's life.”
As I glanced up from reading this enigmatical message, I
saw Holmes chuckling at the expression upon my face.
“You look a little bewildered,” said he.
“I cannot see how such a message as this could inspire
horror. It seems to me to be rather grotesque than other-
wise."
“Very likely. Yet the fact remains that the reader, who
was a fine, robust old man, was knocked clean down by it as
if it had been the butt end of a pistol.”
“You arouse my curiosity,” said I. “But why did you say
just now that there were very particular reasons why I should
study this case ?"


THE
71
GLORIA SCOTT
“Because it was the first in which I was ever engaged.”
I had often endeavored to elicit from my companion what
had first turned his mind in the direction of criminal re-
search, but had never caught him before in a communicative
humor. Now he sat forward in his arm-chair and spread out
the documents upon his knees. Then he lit his pipe and sat
for some time smoking and turning them over.
“ You never heard me talk of Victor Trevor?” he asked.
" He was the only friend I made during the two years I was
at college. I was never a very sociable fellow, Watson, always
rather fond of moping in my rooms and working out my own
little methods of thought, so that I never mixed much with the
men of my year. Bar fencing and boxing I had few athletic
tastes, and then my line of study was quite distinct from that
of the other fellows, so that we had no points of contact at
all. Trevor was the only man I knew, and that only through
the accident of his bull terrier freezing on to my ankle one
morning as I went down to chapel.
“It was a prosaic way of forming a friendship, but it was
effective. I was laid by the heels for ten days, and Trevor
used to come in to inquire after me. At first it was only a
minute's chat, but soon his visits lengthened, and before the
end of the term we were close friends. He was a hearty,
full-blooded fellow, full of spirits and energy, the very oppo-
site to me in most respects, but we had some subjects in
common, and it was a bond of union when I found that he
was as friendless as I. Finally, he invited me down to his
father's place at Donnithorpe, in Norfolk, and I accepted his
hospitality for a month of the long vacation.
“Old Trevor was evidently a man of some wealth and
consideration, a J. P., and a landed proprietor. Donnithorpe
is a little hamlet just to the north of Langmere, in the country
of the Broads. The house was an old-fashioned, wide-spread,
oak-beamed brick building, with a fine lime-lined avenue lead-
ing up to it. There was excellent wild-duck shooting in the
fens, remarkably good fishing, a small but select library, taken


72
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
over, as I understood, from a former occupant, and a tolerable
cook, so that he would be a fastidious man who could not put
in a pleasant month there.
“Trevor senior was a widower, and my friend his only
son.
“There had been a daughter, I heard, but she had died of
diphtheria while on a visit to Birmingham. The father inter-
ested me extremely. He was a man of little culture, but with
a considerable amount of rude strength, both physically and
mentally. He knew hardly any books, but he had travelled
far, had seen much of the world, and had remembered all
that he had learned. In person he was a thick-set, burly man
with a shock of grizzled hair, a brown, weather-beaten face,
and blue eyes which were keen to the verge of fierceness.
Yet he had a reputation for kindness and charity on the
country-side, and was noted for the leniency of his sentences
from the bench.
“One evening, shortly after my arrival, we were sitting over
a glass of port after dinner, when young Trevor began to talk
about those habits of observation and inference which I had
already formed into a system, although I had not yet appre-
ciated the part which they were to play in my life. The
old man evidently thought that his son was exaggerating in
his description of one or two trivial feats which I had per-
formed.
Come, now, Mr. Holmes,' said he, laughing good - hu-
moredly. 'I'm an excellent subject, if you can deduce any-
thing from me.'
“I fear there is not very much,' I answered ; 'I might
suggest that you have gone about in fear of some personal
attack within the last twelvemonth.'
“The laugh faded from his lips, and he stared at me in
great surprise.
Well, that's true enough,' said he. "You know, Victor,'
turning to his son, 'when we broke up that poaching gang
they swore to knife us, and Sir Edward Holly has actually


THE
75
GLORIA SCOTT
6' He says
that you
was causing him uneasiness that I drew my visit to a close.
On the very day, however, before I left, an incident occurred
which proved in the sequel to be of importance.
“We were sitting out upon the lawn on garden chairs, the
three of us, basking in the sun and admiring the view across
the Broads, when a maid came out to say that there was a
man at the door who wanted to see Mr. Trevor.
66 • What is his name?' asked
my
host.
“He would not give any.'
66. What does he want, then ?'
know him, and that he only wants a
moment's conversation.'
“. Show him round here.' An instant afterwards there ap-
peared a little wizened fellow with a cringing manner and a
shambling style of walking. He wore an open jacket, with
a splotch of tar on the sleeve, a red-and-black check shirt,
dungaree trousers, and heavy boots badly worn. His face
was thin and brown and crafty, with a perpetual smile upon
it, which showed an irregular line of yellow teeth, and his
crinkled hands were half closed in a way that is distinctive
of sailors. As he came slouching across the lawn I heard
Mr. Trevor make a sort of hiccoughing noise in his throat,
and, jumping out of his chair, he ran into the house. He
was back in a moment, and I smelt a strong reek of brandy
as he passed me.
“Well, my man,' said he. "What can I do for you?'
“The sailor stood looking at him with puckered eyes, and
with the same loose-lipped smile upon his face.
66. You don't know me?' he asked.
“Why, dear me, it is surely Hudson,' said Mr. Trevor in a
tone of surprise.
6. Hudson it is, sir,' said the seaman. “Why, it's thirty
year and more since I saw you last. Here you are in your
house, and me still picking my salt meat out of the harness
cask.'
“Tut, you will find that I have not forgotten old times,'


76
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
cried Mr. Trevor, and, walking towards the sailor, he said
something in a low voice. "Go into the kitchen,' he con-
tinued out loud, and you will get food and drink. I have
no doubt that I shall find you a situation.'
"Thank you, sir,' said the seaman, touching his forelock.
'I'm just off a two-yearer in an eight-knot tramp, short-hand-
ed at that, and I wants a rest. I thought I'd get it either
with Mr. Beddoes or with you.'
“Ah!' cried Mr. Trevor. “You know where Mr. Beddoes
is ?'
". Bless you, sir, I know where all my old friends are,' said
the fellow with a sinister smile, and he slouched off after the
maid to the kitchen. Mr. Trevor mumbled something to us
about having been shipm.ate with the man when he was going
back to the diggings, and then, leaving us on the lawn, he
went indoors. An hour later, when we entered the house, we
found him stretched dead drunk upon the dining-room sofa.
The whole incident left a most ugly impression upon my
mind, and I was not sorry next day to leave Donnithorpe
behind me, for I felt that my presence must be a source of
embarrassment to my friend.
“ All this occurred during the first month of the long vaca-
tion. I went up to my London rooms, where I spent seven
weeks working out a few experiments in organic chemistry.
One day, however, when the autumn was far advanced and
the vacation drawing to a close, I received a telegram from
my friend imploring me to return to Donnithorpe, and saying
that he was in great need of my advice and assistance. Of
course I dropped everything and set out for the North once
more.
“He met me with the dog-cart at the station, and I saw at
a glance that the last two months had been very trying ones
for him. He had grown thin and careworn, and had lost the
loud, cheery manner for which he had been remarkable.
“The governor is dying,' were the first words he said.
“Impossible!' I cried. “What is the matter?'


THE
77
GLORIA SCOTT"
• Apoplexy. Nervous shock. He's been on the verge all
day. I doubt if we shall find him alive.'
"I was, as you may think, Watson, horrified at this unex-
pected news.
What has caused it?' I asked.
“. Ah, that is the point. Jump in and we can talk it over
while we drive. You remember that fellow who came upon
the evening before you left us?'
Perfectly.'
“Do you know who it was that we let into the house that
day?'
«•I have no idea.'
". It was the devil, Holmes,' he cried.
“I stared at him in astonishment.
« « Yes, it was the devil himself. We have not had a peace-
ful hour since-not one. The governor has never held up
his
head from that evening, and now the life has been crushed
out of him and his heart broken, all through this accursed
Hudson.'
"•What power had he, then ??
"Ah, that is what I would give so much to know. The
kindly, charitable, good old governor-how could he have
fallen into the clutches of such a ruffian! But I am so glad
that you have come, Holmes. I trust very much to your
judgment and discretion, and I know that you will advise me
for the best.'
“We were dashing along the smooth white country road,
with the long stretch of the Broads in front of us glimmering
in the red light of the setting sun. From a grove upon our
left I could already see the high chimneys and the flag-staff
which marked the squire's dwelling.
“My father made the fellow gardener,' said my compan-
ion, and then, as that did not satisfy him, he was promoted
to be butler. The house seemed to be at his mercy, and he
wandered about and did what he chose in it. The maids
complained of his drunken habits and his vile language. The


178
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
fa:
dad raised their wages all round to recompense them for
the annoyance. The fellow would take the boat and
my
ther's best gun and treat himself to little shooting trips.
And all this with such a sneering, leering, insolent face that I
would have knocked him down twenty times over if he had
been a man of my own age. I tell you, Holmes, I have had
to keep a tight hold upon myself all this time ; and now I am
asking myself whether, if I had let myself go a little more, I
might not have been a wiser man.
“Well, matters went from bad to worse with us, and this
animal Hudson became more and more intrusive, until at last,
on his making some insolent reply to my father in my pres-
ence one day, I took him by the shoulders and turned him out
of the room.
He slunk away with a livid face and two ven-
omous eyes which uttered more threats than his tongue could
do. I don't know what passed between the poor dad and
him after that, but the dad came to me next day and asked
me whether I would mind apologizing to Hudson. I refused,
as you can imagine, and asked my father how he could allow
such a wretch to take such liberties with himself and his
household.
"«"Ah, my boy," said he, “it is all very well to talk, but
you don't know how I am placed. But you shall know, Victor.
I'll see that
you shall know, come what may. You wouldn't
believe harm of your poor old father, would you, lad?” He
was very much moved, and shut himself up in the study all
day, where I could see through the window that he was writ-
ing busily.
That evening there came what seemed to me to be a
grand release, for Hudson told us that he was going to leave
He walked into the dining-room as we sat after dinner,
and announced his intention in the thick voice of a half-
drunken man.
"""I've had enough of Norfolk," said he. “I'll run down
to Mr. Beddoes in Hampshire. He'll be as glad to see me as
you were, I dare say."
us.


THE
79
GLORIA SCOTT"
"" You're not going away in an unkind spirit, Hudson, I
hope,” said my father, with a tameness which made my blood
boil.
««« I've not had my 'pology,” said he sulkily, glancing in
my direction.
"+" Victor, you will acknowledge that you have used this
worthy fellow rather roughly," said the dad, turning to me.
“O“On the contrary, I think that we have both shown ex-
traordinary patience towards him," I answered.
"6" Oh, you do, do you?” he snarled. “Very good, mate.
We'll see about that!"
“ ' He slouched out of the room, and half an hour afterwards
left the house, leaving my father in a state of pitiable nervous-
ness. Night after night I heard him pacing his room, and it
was just as he was recovering his confidence that the blow
did at last fall.'
“And how?' I asked eagerly.
"In a most extraordinary fashion. A letter arrived for
my father yesterday evening, bearing the Fordingbridge post-
mark. My father read it, clapped both his hands to his head,
and began running round the room in little circles like a man
who has been driven out of his senses. When I at last drew
him down on to the sofa, his mouth and eyelids were all puck-
ered on one side, and I saw that he had a stroke. Dr.
Fordham came over at once. We put him to bed, but the
paralysis has spread, he has shown no sign of returning con-
sciousness, and I think that we shall hardly find him alive.'
“You horrify me, Trevor!' I cried. What then could
have been in this letter to cause so dreadful a result?'
Nothing. There lies the inexplicable part of it. The
message was absurd and trivial. Ah, my God, it is as I
feared !
“As he spoke we came round the curve of the avenue, and
saw in the fading light that every blind in the house had been
drawn down. As we dashed up to the door, my friend's face
convulsed with grief, a gentleman in black emerged from it.


80
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“When did it happen, doctor? asked Trevor.
“ • Almost immediately after you left.'
«• Did he recover consciousness ?'
66. For an instant before the end.'
"Any message for me?'
""Only that the papers were in the back drawer of the
Japanese cabinet.'
“My friend ascended with the doctor to the chamber of
death, while I remained in the study, turning the whole matter
over and over in my head, and feeling as sombre as ever I had
done in my life. What was the past of this Trevor, pugilist,
traveller, and gold-digger, and how had he placed himself in
the power of this acid-faced seaman? Why, too, should he
faint at an allusion to the half-effaced initials
upon
his
arm,
and die of fright when he had a letter from Fordingham?
Then I remembered that Fordingham was in Hampshire, and
that this Mr. Beddoes, whom the seaman had gone to visit
and presumably to blackmail, had also been mentioned as liv-
ing in Hampshire. The letter, then, might either come from
Hudson, the seaman, saying that he had betrayed the guilty
secret which appeared to exist, or it might come from Bed-
does, warning an old confederate that such a betrayal was im-
minent. So far it seemed clear enough. But then how could
this letter be trivial and grotesque, as described by the son ?
He must have misread it. If so, it must have been one of
those ingenious secret codes which mean one thing while they
seem to mean another. I must see this letter. If there were
a hidden meaning in it, I was confident that I could pluck it
forth. For an hour I sat pondering over it in the gloom, until
at last a weeping maid brought in a lamp, and close at her
heels came my friend Trevor, pale but composed, with these
very papers which lie upon my knee held in his grasp. He
sat down opposite to me, drew the lamp to the edge of the
table, and handed me a short note scribbled, as you see, upon
a single sheet of gray paper. “The supply of game for Lon-
don is going steadily up,' it ran. “Head-keeper Hudson, we


THE
81
GLORIA SCOTT"
believe, has been now told to receive all orders for fly-paper
and for preservation of your hen-pheasant's life.'
“I dare say my face looked as bewildered as yours did just
now when first I read this message. Then I reread it very
carefully. It was evidently as I had thought, and some secret
meaning must lie buried in this strange combination of words.
Or could it be that there was a prearranged significance
to such phrases as 'fly-paper' and 'hen-pheasant'? Such a
meaning would be arbitrary and could not be deduced in any
way. And yet I was loath to believe that this was the case,
and the presence of the word Hudson seemed to show that
the subject of the message was as I had guessed, and that it
was from Beddoes rather than the sailor. I tried it back-
wards, but the combination 'life pheasant's hen' was not en-
couraging. Then I tried alternate words, but neither the of
for' nor supply game London' promised to throw any light
upon it.
66. The game
is up.
“ And then in an instant the key of the riddle was in my
hands, and I saw that every third word, beginning with the
first, would give a message which might well drive old Trevor
to despair.
“ It was short and terse, the warning, as I now read it to
my companion :
Hudson has told all. Fly for your
life.'
“ Victor Trevor sank his face into his shaking hands. It
must be that, I suppose,' said he. “This is worse than death,
for it means disgrace as well. But what is the meaning of
these “head-keepers " and "hen-pheasants"?'
“. It means nothing to the message, but it might mean a
good deal to us if we had no other means of discovering the
sender. You see that he has begun by writing “The ...
game ... is," and so on. Afterwards he had to fulfil the
prearranged cipher, to fill in any two words in each space.
He would naturally use the first words which came to his
mind, and if there were so many which referred to sport


82
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
among them, you may be tolerably sure that he is either an
ardent shot or interested in breeding. Do you know any-
thing of this Beddoes ?'
“Why, now that you mention it,' said he, “I remember
that my poor father used to have an invitation from him to
shoot over his preserves every autumn.'
“Then it is undoubtedly from him that the note comes,'
said I. 'It only remains for us to find out what this secret
was which the sailor Hudson seems to have held over the
heads of these two wealthy and respected men.'
* Alas, Holmes, I fear that it is one of sin and shame!'
cried my friend. “But from you I shall have no secrets.
Here is the statement which was drawn up by my father
when he knew that the danger from Hudson had become
imminent. I found it in the Japanese cabinet, as he told the
doctor. Take it and read it to me, for I have neither the
strength nor the courage to do it myself.'
“These are the very papers, Watson, which he handed to
me, and I will read them to you, as I read them in the old
study that night to him. They are endorsed outside, as you
see, 'Some particulars of the voyage of the bark Gloria Scott,
from her leaving Falmouth on the 8th October, 1855, to her
destruction in N. Lat. 15° 20', W. Long. 25° 14', on Nov. 6th.'
It is in the form of a letter, and runs in this way:
"My dear, dear son, now that approaching disgrace be-
gins to darken the closing years of my life, I can write with
all truth and honesty that it is not the terror of the law, it is
not the loss of my position in the county, nor is it my
fail in
the eyes of all who have known me, which cuts me to the
heart; but it is the thought that you should come to blush for
me--you who love me and who have seldom, I hope, had rea-
son to do other than respect me. But if the blow falls which
is forever hanging over me, then I should wish you to read
this, that you may know straight from me how far I have been
to blame. On the other hand, if all should go well (which
may kind God Almighty grant !), then, if by any chance this


THE
83
GLORIA SCOTT"
paper should be still undestroyed and should fall into your
hands, I conjure you, by all you hold sacred, by the memory
of
your dear mother, and by the love which has been between
us, to hurl it into the fire and to never give one thought to it
again.
"• If then your eye goes on to read this line, I know that I
shall already have been exposed and dragged from my home,
or, as is more likely, for you know that my heart is weak, be
lying with my tongue sealed forever in death. In either case
the time for suppression is past, and every word which I tell
you
is the naked truth, and this I swear as I hope for mercy.
"My name, dear lad, is not Trevor. I was James Armi-
tage in my younger days, and you can understand now the
shock that it was to me a few weeks ago when your college
friend addressed me in words which seemed to imply that he
had surprised my secret. As Armitage it was that I entered
a London banking-house, and as Armitage I was convicted of
breaking my country's laws, and was sentenced to transporta-
tion. Do not think very harshly of me, laddie. It was a debt
of honor, so called, which I had to pay, and I used money
which was not my own to do it, in the certainty that I could
replace it before there could be any possibility of its being
missed. But the most dreadful ill-luck pursued me. The
money which I had reckoned upon never came to hand, and a
premature examination of accounts exposed my deficit. The
case might have been dealt leniently with, but the laws were
more harshly administered thirty years ago than now, and on
my twenty-third birthday I found myself chained as a relun
with thirty-seven other convicts in the 'tween-decks of the
bark Gloria Scott, bound for Australia.
“• It was the year '55, when the Crimean war was at its
height, and the old convict ships had been largely used as
transports in the Black Sea. The government was compelled,
therefore, to use smaller and less suitable vessels for sending
out their prisoners. The Gloria Scott had been in the Chinese
tea-trade, but she was an old-fashioned, heavy-bowed, broad-


THE
85
GLORIA SCOTT"
"6" Then maybe you remember something queer about it?"
666" What was that, then?”
"6" I'd had nearly a quarter of a million, hadn't I ?"
66666 So it was said."
66“ But none was recovered, eh?”.
66666 No.”
"“Well, where d'ye suppose the balance is?” he asked.
666“ I have no idea," said I.
666" Right between my finger and thumb,” he cried. “By
God! I've got more pounds to my name than you've hairs
on your head. And if you've money, my son, and know how
to handle it and spread it, you can do anything. Now, you
don't think it likely that a man who could do anything is
going to wear his breeches out sitting in the stinking hold of
a rat-gutted, beetle-ridden, mouldy old coffin of a Chin China
coaster. No, sir, such a man will look after himself and will
look after his chums. You may lay to that! You hold on to
him, and you may kiss the book that he'll haul you through."
“That was his style of talk, and at first I thought it meant
nothing ; but after a while, when he had tested me and sworn
me in with all possible solemnity, he let me understand that
there really was a plot to gain command of the vessel. A
dozen of the prisoners had hatched it before they came
aboard, Prendergast was the leader, and his money was the
motive power.
"6"I'd a partner,” said he, “a rare good man, as true as a
stock to a barrel. He's got the dibbs, he has, and where do
you think he is at this moment? Why, he's the chaplain of
this ship--the chaplain, no less ! He came aboard with a
black coat, and his papers right, and money enough in his
box to buy the thing right up from keel to main-truck. The
crew are his, body and soul. He could buy 'em at so much
a gross with a cash discount, and he did it before ever they
signed on. He's got two of the warders and Mereer, the
second mate, and he'd get the captain himself, if he thought
him worth it.”


86
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
« «« What are we to do, then ?" I asked.
"""What do you think?” said he. “We'll make the coats
of some of these soldiers redder than ever the tailor did.”
“o“ But they are armed,” said I.
"6" And so shall we be, my boy. There's a brace of pistols
for every mother's son of us, and if we can't carry this ship,
with the crew at our back, it's time we were all sent to a
young misses' boarding-school. You speak to your mate upon
the left to-night, and see if he is to be trusted."
66• I did so, and found my other neighbor to be a young
fellow in much the same position as myself, whose crime
had been forgery. His name was Evans, but he afterwards
changed it, like myself, and he is now a rich and prosper-
ous man in the south of England. He was ready enough to
join the conspiracy, as the only means of saving ourselves,
and before we had crossed the Bay there were only two of
the prisoners who were not in the secret. One of these was
of weak mind, and we did not dare to trust him, and the
other was suffering from jaundice, and could not be of any
use to us.
“ • From the beginning there was really nothing to prevent
us from taking possession of the ship. The crew were a set
of ruffians, specially picked for the job. The sham chaplain
came into our cells to exhort us, carrying a black bag, sup-
posed to be full of tracts, and so often did he come that by
the third day we had each stowed away at the foot of our
beds a file, a brace of pistols, a pound of powder, and twenty
slugs. Two of the warders were agents of Prendergast, and
the second mate was his right-hand man. The captain, the
two mates, two warders, Lieutenant Martin, his eighteen sol.
diers, and the doctor were all that we had against us. Yet,
safe as it was, we determined to neglect no precaution, and to
make our attack suddenly by night. It came, however, more
quickly than we expected, and in this way.
One evening, about the third week after our start, the
doctor had come down to see one of the prisoners who was


THE
66
87
GLORIA SCOTT"
ill, and putting his hand down on the bottom of his bunk he
felt the outline of the pistols. If he had been silent he might
have blown the whole thing, but he was a nervous little chap,
so he gave a cry of surprise and turned so pale that the man
knew what was up in an instant and seized him. He was
gagged before he could give the alarm, and tied down upon
the bed. He had unlocked the door that led to the deck,
and we were through it in a rush. The two sentries were
shot down, and so was a corporal who came running to see
what was the matter. There were two more soldiers at the
door of the state-room, and their muskets seemed not to be
loaded, for they never fired upon us, and they were shot
while trying to fix their bayonets. Then we rushed on into
the captain's cabin, but as we pushed open the door there
was an explosion from within, and there he lay with his
brains smeared over the chart of the Atlantic which was
pinned upon the table, while the chaplain stood with a smok-
ing pistol in his hand at his elbow. The two mates had both
been seized by the crew, and the whole business seemed to
be settled.
“The state-room was next the cabin, and we flocked in there
and flopped down on the settees, all speaking together, for we
were just mad with the feeling that we were free once more.
There were lockers all round, and Wilson, the sham chaplain,
knocked one of them in, and pulled out a dozen of brown
sherry. We cracked off the necks of the bottles, poured the
stuff out into tumblers, and were just tossing them off, when
in an instant without warning there came the roar of muskets
in our ears, and the saloon was so full of smoke that we could
not see across the table. When it cleared again the place
was a shambles. Wilson and eight others were wriggling on
the top of each other on the floor, and the blood and the
brown sherry on that table turn me sick now when I think
of it. We were so cowed by the sight that I think we should
have given the job up if it had not been for Prendergast. He
bellowed like a bull and rushed for the door with all that


88
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
were left alive at his heels. Out we ran, and there on the
poop were the lieutenant and ten of his men. The swing
skylights above the saloon table had been a bit open, and
they had fired on us through the slit. We got on them
before they could load, and they stood to it like men; but
we had the upper hand of them, and in five minutes it was
all over. My God! was there ever a slaughter-house like
that ship! Prendergast was like a raging devil, and he
picked the soldiers up as if they had been children and
threw them overboard alive or dead. There was one ser-
geant that was horribly wounded and yet kept on swimming
for a surprising time, until some one in mercy blew out his
brains. When the fighting was over there was no one left
of our enemies except just the warders, the mates, and the
doctor.
“• It was over them that the great quarrel arose. There
were many of us who were glad enough to win back our
freedom, and yet who had no wish to have murder on our
souls. It was one thing to knock the soldiers over with
their muskets in their hands, and it was another to stand by
while men were being killed in cold blood. Eight of us, five
convicts and three sailors, said that we would not see it
done. But there was no moving Prendergast and those who
were with him. Our only chance of safety lay in making a
clean job of it, said he, and he would not leave a tongue with
power to wag in a witness-box. It nearly came to our shar-
ing the fate of the prisoners, but at last he said that if we
wished we might take a boat and go. We jumped at the
offer, for we were already sick of these bloodthirsty doings,
and we saw that there would be worse before it was done.
We were given a suit of sailor togs each, a barrel of water,
two casks, one of junk and one of biscuits, and a compass.
Prendergast threw us over a chart, told us that we were
shipwrecked mariners whose ship had foundered in Lat.
15º and Long. 25° west, and then cut the painter and let
us go.


THE “GLORIA SCOTT"
89
" • And now I come to the most surprising part of my story,
my dear son. The seamen had hauled the fore-yard aback
during the rising, but now as we left them they brought it
square again, and as there was a light wind from the north
and east the bark began to draw slowly away
from us.
Our
boat lay, rising and falling, upon the long, smooth rollers, and
Evans and I, who were the most educated of the party, were
sitting in the sheets working out our position and planning
what coast we should make for. It was a nice question, for
the Cape de Verds were about five hundred miles to the
north of us, and the African coast about seven hundred to
the east. On the whole, as the wind was coming round to
the north, we thought that Sierra Leone might be best, and
turned our head in that direction, the bark being at that time
nearly hull down on our starboard quarter. Suddenly as we
looked at her we saw a dense black cloud of smoke shoot up
from her, which hung like a monstrous tree upon the sky line.
A few seconds later a roar like thunder burst upon our ears,
and as the smoke thinned away there was no sign left of the
Gloria Scott. In an instant we swept the boat's head round
again and pulled with all our strength for the place where the
haze still trailing over the water marked the scene of this ca-
tastrophe.
“ It was a long hour before we reached it, and at first we
feared that we had come too late to save any one. A splin-
tered boat and a number of crates and fragments of
spars
ris-
ing and falling on the waves showed us where the vessel had
foundered; but there was no sign of life, and we had turned
away in despair when we heard a cry for help, and saw at
some distance a piece of wreckage with a man lying stretched
across it. When we pulled him aboard the boat he proved
to be a young seaman of the name of Hudson, who was so
burned and exhausted that he could give us no account of
what had happened until the following morning.
“ • It seemed that after we had left, Prendergast and his
gang had proceeded to put to death the five remaining pris-
G


90
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
oners. The two warders had been shot and thrown over-
board, and so also had the third mate. Prendergast then
descended into the 'tween-decks and with his own hands cut
the throat of the unfortunate surgeon. There only remained
the first mate, who was a bold and active man. When he
saw the convict approaching him with the bloody knife in
his hand he kicked off his bonds, which he had somehow
contrived to loosen, and rushing down the deck he plunged
into the after-hold. A dozen convicts, who descended with
their pistols in search of him, found him with a match-box
in his hand seated beside an open powder-barrel, which was
one of a hundred carried on board, and swearing that he
would blow all hands up if he were in any way molested.
An instant later the explosion occurred, though Hudson
thought it was caused by the misdirected bullet of one of
the convicts rather than the mate's match. Be the cause
what it may, it was the end of the Gloria Scott and of the
rabble who held command of her.
“ Such, in a few words, my dear boy, is the history of this
terrible business in which I was involved. Next day we were
picked up by the brig Hotspur, bound for Australia, whose
captain found no difficulty in believing that we were the sur-
vivors of a passenger ship which had foundered. The trans-
port ship Gloria Scott was set down by the Admiralty as
being lost at sea, and no word has ever leaked out as to her
true fate. After an excellent voyage the Hotspur landed us
at Sydney, where Evans and I changed our names and made
our way to the diggings, where, among the crowds who were
gathered from all nations, we had no difficulty in losing our
former identities. The rest I need not relate.
pered, we travelled, we came back as rich colonials to Eng.
land, and we bought country estates. For more than twenty
years we have led peaceful and useful lives, and we hoped
that our past was forever buried. Imagine, then, my feelings
when in the seaman who came to us I recognized instantly
the man who had been picked off the wreck. He had tracked
We pros-


THE
91
GLORIA SCOTT"
us down somehow, and had set himself to live upon our fears.
You will understand now how it was that I strove to keep
the peace with him, and you will in some measure sympathize
with me in the fears which fill me, now that he has gone
from me to his other victim with threats upon his tongue.'
“ Underneath is written in a hand so shaky as to be hardly
legible, ‘Beddoes writes in cipher to say H. has told all.
Sweet Lord, have mercy on our souls !'
“That was the narrative which I read that night to young
Trevor, and I think, Watson, that under the circumstances it
was a dramatic one. The good fellow was heart-broken at it,
and went out to the Terai tea planting, where I hear that he
is doing well. As to the sailor and Beddoes, neither of them
was ever heard of again after that day on which the letter
of warning was written. They both disappeared utterly and
completely. No complaint had been lodged with the police,
so that Beddoes had mistaken a threat for a deed. Hudson
had been seen lurking about, and it was believed by the po-
lice that he had done away with Beddoes and had fled. For
myself I believe that the truth was exactly the opposite. I
think that it is most probable that Beddoes, pushed to des-
peration and believing himself to have been already betrayed,
had revenged himself upon Hudson, and had fled from the
country with as much money as he could lay his hands on.
Those are the facts of the case, Doctor, and if they are of any
use to your collection, I am sure that they are very heartily at
your service."


Adventure XV11
THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
;N anomaly which often struck me in the charac-
ter of my friend Sherlock Holmes was that,
although in his methods of thought he was the
neatest and most methodical of mankind, and
although also he affected a certain quiet prim-
ness of dress, he was none the less in his personal habits one
of the most untidy men that ever drove a fellow-lodger to dis-
traction. Not that I am in the least conventional in that
respect myself. The rough-and-tumble work in Afghanistan,
coming on the top of a natural Bohemianism of disposition,
has made me rather more lax than befits a medical man.
But with me there is a limit, and when I find a man who
keeps his cigars in the coal-scuttle, his tobacco in the toe
end of a Persian slipper, and his unanswered correspondence
transfixed by a jack-knife into the very centre of his wooden
mantelpiece, then I begin to give myself virtuous airs. I have
always held, too, that pistol practice should be distinctly
an open-air pastime; and when Holmes, in one of his queer
humors, would sit in an arm-chair with his hair-trigger and a
hundred Boxer cartridges, and proceed to adorn the oppo-
site wall with a patriotic V. R. done in bullet-pocks, I felt
strongly that neither the atmosphere nor the appearance of
our room was improved by it.
Our chambers were always full of chemicals and of crim-
inal relics which had a way of wandering into unlikely posi-
tions, and of turning up in the butter-dish or in even less
desirable places. But his papers were my great crux.
He


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
93
had a horror of destroying documents, especially those which
were connected with his past cases, and yet it was only once
in every year or two that he would muster energy to docket
and arrange them; for, as I have mentioned somewhere in
these incoherent memoirs, the outbursts of passionate energy
when he performed the remarkable feats with which his name
is associated were followed by reactions of lethargy during
which he would lie about with his violin and his books,
hardly moving save from the sofa to the table. Thus month
after month his papers accumulated, until every corner of the
room was stacked with bundles of manuscript which were on
no account to be burned, and which could not be put away
save by their owner. One winter's night, as we sat together
by the fire, I ventured to suggest to him that, as he had fin-
ished pasting extracts into his common-place book, he might
employ the next two hours in making our room a little more
habitable. He could not deny the justice of my request, so
with a rather rueful face he went off to his bedroom, from
which he returned presently pulling a large tin box behind
him. This he placed in the middle of the floor, and, squat-
ting down upon a stool in front of it, he threw back the lid.
I could see that it was already a third full of bundles of paper
tied up with red tape into separate packages.
“There are cases enough here, Watson," said he, looking
at me with mischievous eyes.
“ I think that if
you knew all
that I had in this box you would ask me to pull some out
instead of putting others in."
“ These are the records of your early work, then ?" I asked.
“ I have often wished that I had notes of those cases."
“Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my
biographer had come to glorify me.” He lifted bundle after
bundle in a tender, caressing sort of way. “They are not all
successes,Watson,” said he. “But there are some pretty lit-
tle problems among them. Here's the record of the Tarleton
murders, and the case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and
the adventure of the old Russian woman, and the singular


94
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of
Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his abominable wife. And
here-ah, now, this really is something a little recherché."
He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and
brought up a small wooden box with a sliding lid, such as
children's toys are kept in. From within he produced a
crumpled piece of paper, an old-fashioned brass key, a peg of
wood with a ball of string attached to it, and three rusty old
disks of metal.
“Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?” he asked,
smiling at my expression.
“It is a curious collection.”
“Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will strike
you as being more curious still."
“These relics have a history, then ?"
“ So much so that they are history."
“What do you mean by that?”
Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid
them along the edge of the table. Then he reseated himself
in his chair and looked them over with a gleam of satisfac-
tion in his eyes.
“These," said he," are all that I have left to remind me of
the adventure of the Musgrave Ritual."
I had heard him mention the case more than once, though
I had never been able to gather the details. “I should be so
glad,” said I, “if you would give me an account of it.”
“And leave the litter as it is?” he cried, mischievously.
“Your tidiness won't bear much strain after all, Watson.
But I should be glad that you should add this case to your
annals, for there are points in it which make it quite unique in
the criminal records of this or, I believe, of any other country.
A collection of my trifling achievements would certainly be
incomplete which contained no account of this very singular
business.
“ You may remember how the affair of the Gloria Scott, and
my conversation with the unhappy man whose fate I told you


96
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
place seemed to cling to the man, and I never looked at his
pale, keen face or the poise of his head without associating
him with gray archways and mullioned windows and all the
venerable wreckage of a feudal keep. Once or twice we
drifted into talk, and I can remember that more than once
he expressed a keen interest in my methods of observation
and inference.
“For four years I had seen nothing of him until one morn-
ing he walked into my room in Montague Street. He had
changed little, was dressed like a young man of fashion-
he was always a bit of a dandy-and preserved the same
quiet, suave manner which had formerly distinguished him.
“ How has all gone with you, Musgrave ?' I asked, after
we had cordially shaken hands.
“You probably heard of my poor father's death,' said he ;
'he was carried off about two years ago. Since then I have
of course had the Hurlstone estates to manage, and as I am
member for my district as well, my life has been a busy one.
But I understand, Holmes, that you are turning to practical
ends those powers with which you used to amaze us ?'
“Yes,' said I,ʻI have taken to living by my wits.'
"I am delighted to hear it, for your advice at present
would be exceedingly valuable to me. We have had some
very strange doings at Hurlstone, and the police have been
able to throw no light upon the matter. It is really the most
extraordinary and inexplicable business.'
“You can imagine with what eagerness I listened to him,
Watson, for the very chance for which I had been panting
during all those months of inaction seemed to have come
within my reach. In my inmost heart I believed that I could
succeed where others failed, and now I had the opportunity to
test myself.
Pray, let me have the details,' I cried.
“Reginald Musgrave sat down opposite to me, and lit the
cigarette which I had pushed towards him.
" "You must know,' said he, that though I am a bachelor,


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
97
I have to keep up a considerable staff of servants at Hurl-
stone, for it is a rambling old place, and takes a good deal
of looking after. I preserve, too, and in the pheasant months
I usually have a house-party, so that it would not do to be
short-handed. Altogether there are eight maids, the cook,
the butler, two footmen, and a boy. The garden and the
stables of course have a separate staff.
“Of these servants the one who had been longest in our
service was Brunton the butler. He was a young school-
master out of place when he was first taken up by my fa-
ther, but he was a man of great energy and character, and
he soon became quite invaluable in the household. He
was a well-grown, handsome man, with a splendid fore-
head, and though he has been with us for twenty years
he cannot be more than forty now. With his personal ad-
vantages and his extraordinary gifts—for he can speak sev-
eral languages and play nearly every musical instrument-
it is wonderful that he should have been satisfied so long
in such a position, but I suppose that he was comfortable,
and lacked energy to make any change. The butler of
Hurlstone is always a thing that is remembered by all who
visit us.
“. But this paragon has one fault. He is a bit of a Don
Juan, and you can imagine that for a man like him it is not
a very difficult part to play in a quiet country district. When
he was married it was all right, but since he has been a wid-
ower we have had no end of trouble with him. A few months
ago we were in hopes that he was about to settle down again,
for he became engaged to Rachel Howells, our second house-
maid; but he has thrown her over since then and taken up
with Janet Tregellis, the daughter of the head game-keeper.
Rachel—who is a very good girl, but of an excitable Welsh
temperament-had a sharp touch of brain- fever, and goes
about the house now-or did until yesterday-like a black-
eyed shadow of her former self. That was our first drama at
Hurlstone; but a second one came to drive it from our minds,


96
ITXOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
place seemed to cling to the man, and I never looked at his
pale, keen face or the poise of his head without associating
him with gray archways and mullioned windows and all the
venerable wreckage of a feudal keep. Once or twice we
drifted into talk, and I can remember that more than once
be expressed a keen interest in my methods of observation
and inference.
“For four years I had seen nothing of him until one morn-
ing he walked into my room in Montague Street. He had
changed little, was dressed like a young man of fashion-
he was always a bit of a dandy-and preserved the same
quiet, suare manner which had formerly distinguished him.
**How has all gone with you, Musgrave ?" I asked, after
we had cordially shaken hands.
*You probably heard of my poor father's death,' said he ;
he was carried off about two years ago. Since then I have
of course had the Hurlstone estates to manage, and as I am
member for my district as well, my life has been a busy one.
But I understand, Holmes, that you are turning to practical
ends those powers with which you used to amaze us ?'
“Yes,' said I, I have taken to living by my wits.'
"I am delighted to hear it, for your advice at present
would be exceedingly valuable to me. We have had some
very strange doings at Hurlstone, and the police have been
able to throw no light upon the matter. It is really the most
extraordinary and inexplicable business.'
"You can imagine with what eagerness I listened to him,
Watson, for the very chance for which I had been panting
during all those months of inaction seemed to have come
within my reach. In my inmost heart I believed that I could
succeed where others failed, and now I had the
test myself.
"Pray, let me have the details
"Reginald Musgrave sat
cigarette which I had push
** You must know,'


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
97
I have to keep up a considerable staff of servants at Hurl-
stone, for it is a rambling old place, and takes a good deal
of looking after. I preserve, too, and in the pheasant months
I usually have a house-party, so that it would not do to be
short-handed. Altogether there are eight maids, the cook,
the butler, two footmen, and a boy. The garden and the
stables of course have a separate staff.
“Of these servants the one who had been longest in our
service was Brunton the butler. He was a young school-
master out of place when he was first taken up by my fa-
ther, but he was a man of great energy and character, and
he soon became quite invaluable in the household. He
was a well-grown, handsome man, with a splendid fore-
head, and though he has been with us for twenty years
he cannot be more than forty now. With his personal ad-
vantages and his extraordinary gifts—for he can speak sev-
eral languages and play nearly every musical instrument-
it is wonderful that he should have been satisfied so long
in such a position, but I suppose that he was comfortable,
and lacked energy to make any change. The butler of
Hurlstone is always a thing that is remembered by all who
visit us.
“. But this paragon has one fault. He is a bit of a Don
Juan, and you can imagine that for a man like him it is not
a very difficult part to play in a quiet country district. When
he was married it was all right, but since he has been a wind
ower we have had no end of trouble with him. A few months
ago we were in hopes that he was about to settle down zuen,
for he became engaged +- Dachel Howells, our second house
maid; but he has th
over since then and take
with
htr-of the head game keeper

t of an excitable Wet
brain-fever, and genes
terday like a black
vas our first drama a
ve it from our mind
d
cer


98
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
and it was prefaced by the disgrace and dismissal of butler
Brunton.
«« This was how it came about. I have said that the man
was intelligent, and this very intelligence has caused his ruin,
for it seems to have led to an insatiable curiosity about things
which did not in the least concern him. I had no idea of the
lengths to which this would carry him, until the merest acci.
dent opened my eyes to it.
“I have said that the house is a rambling one.
One day
last week—on Thursday night, to be more exact-I found that
I could not sleep, having foolishly taken a cup of strong café
noir after my dinner. After struggling against it until two in
the morning, I felt that it was quite hopeless, so I rose and
lit the candle with the intention of continuing a novel which
I was reading. The book, however, had been left in the bill-
iard-room, so I pulled on my dressing-gown and started off to
get it.
“In order to reach the billiard-room I had to descend a
flight of stairs and then to cross the head of a passage which
led to the library and the gun-room. You can imagine my sur-
prise when, as I looked down this corridor, I saw a glimmer
of light coming from the open door of the library. I had my-
self extinguished the lamp and closed the door before coming
to bed. Naturally my first thought was of burglars. The cor-
ridors at Hurlstone have their walls largely decorated with
trophies of old weapons. From one of these I picked a bat-
tle-axe, and then, leaving my candle behind me, I crept on
tiptoe down the passage and peeped in at the open door.
“* Brunton, the butler, was in the library. He was sitting,
fully dressed, in an easy-chair, with a slip of paper which
looked like a map upon his knee, and his forehead sunk for-
ward upon his hand in deep thought. I stood dumb with
astonishment, watching him from the darkness. A small taper
on the edge of the table shed a feeble light which sufficed to
show me that he was fully dressed. Suddenly, as I looked,
he rose from his chair, and walking over to a bureau at the


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
99
>>
side, he unlocked it and drew out one of the drawers. From
this he took a paper, and returning to his seat he flattened it
out beside the taper on the edge of the table, and began to
study it with minute attention. My indignation at this calm
examination of our family documents overcame me so far that
I took a step forward, and Brunton, looking up, saw me stand-
ing in the doorway. He sprang to his feet, his face turned
livid with fear, and he thrust into his breast the chart-like
paper which he had been originally studying.
666" So !” said I. “ This is how you repay the trust which
we have reposed in you. You will leave my service to-mor-
row."
“He bowed with the look of a man who is utterly crushed,
and slunk past me without a word. The taper was still on
the table, and by its light I glanced to see what the paper
was which Brunton had taken from the bureau. To my sur-
prise it was nothing of any importance at all, but simply a
copy of the questions and answers in the singular old ob-
servance called the Musgrave Ritual. It is a sort of cere-
mony peculiar to our family, which each Musgrave for cent-
uries past has gone through on his coming of age-a thing
of private interest, and perhaps of some little importance to
the archæologist, like our own blazonings and charges, but of
no practical use whatever.'
“We had better come back to the paper afterwards,'
said I.
“ If you think it really necessary,' he answered, with some
hesitation. “To continue my statement, however : I relocked'
the bureau, using the key which Brunton had left, and I had
turned to go when I was surprised to find that the butler had
returned, and was standing before me.
“ ““Mr. Musgrave, sir," he cried, in a voice which was
hoarse with emotion, “ I can't bear disgrace, sir. I've always
been proud above my station in life, and disgrace would kill
My blood will be on your head, sir - it will, indeed
-if you drive me to despair. If you cannot keep me after
me.


100
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
what has passed, then for God's sake let me give you notice
and leave in a month, as if of my own free will. I could stand
that, Mr. Musgrave, but not to be cast out before all the folk
that I know so well."
"*" You don't deserve much consideration, Brunton," I
answered. “ Your conduct has been most infamous. How-
ever, as you have been a long time in the family, I have no
wish to bring public disgrace upon you. A month, however,
is too long. Take yourself away in a week, and give what rea-
son you like for going."
"+" Only a week, sir?" he cried, in a despairing voice. “A
fortnight-say at least a fortnight!”
"6" A week," I repeated, “and you may consider yourseli
to have been very leniently dealt with.”
“He crept away, his face sunk upon his breast, like
broken man, while I put out the light and returned to my room.
“For two days after this Brunton was most assiduous in
his attention to his duties. I made no allusion to what had
passed, and waited with some curiosity to see how he would
cover his disgrace. On the third morning, however, he did
not appear, as was his custom, after breakfast to receive my
instructions for the day. As I left the dining-room I hap-
pened to meet Rachel Howells, the maid. I have told you
that she had only recently recovered from an illness, and was
looking so wretchedly pale and wan that I remonstrated with
her for being at work.
“You should be in bed,” I said. Come back to your
duties when you are stronger."
“She looked at me with so strange an expression that I
began to suspect that her brain was affected.
"6"I am strong enough, Mr. Musgrave," said she.
«««We will see what the doctor says," I answered. “ You
must stop work now, and when you go downstairs just say
that I wish to see Brunton."
“*" The butler is gone," said she.


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
IOI
666"Gone! Gone where ?"
6 6 He is gone. No one has seen him. He is not in his
room. Oh, yes, he is gone, he is gone!" She fell back against
the wall with shriek after shriek of laughter, while I, horrified
at this sudden hysterical attack, rushed to the bell to sum-
mon help. The girl was taken to her room, still screaming
and sobbing, while I made inquiries about Brunton. There
was no doubt about it that he had disappeared. His bed
had not been slept in, he had been seen by no one since he
had retired to his room the night before, and yet it was diffi-
cult to see how he could have left the house, as both windows
and doors were found to be fastened in the morning. His
clothes, his watch, and even his money were in his room,
but
the black suit which he usually wore was missing. His slip-
pers, too, were gone, but his boots were left behind. Where
then could butler Brunton have gone in the night, and what
could have become of him now?
"Of course we searched the house from cellar to garret,
but there was no trace of him. It is, as I have said, a laby-
rinth of an old house, especially the original wing, which is
now practically uninhabited; but we ransacked every room and
cellar without discovering the least sign of the missing man.
It was incredible to me that he could have gone away leaving
all his property behind him, and yet where could he be? I
called in the local police, but without success. Rain had fallen
on the night before, and we examined the lawn and the paths
all round the house, but in vain. Matters were in this state,
when a new development quite drew our attention away from
the original mystery.
“For two days Rachel Howells had been so ill, sometimes
delirious, sometimes hysterical, that a nurse had been em-
ployed to sit up with her at night. On the third night after
Brunton's disappearance, the nurse, finding her patient sleep-
ing nicely, had dropped into a nap in the arm-chair, when she
woke in the early morning to find the bed empty, the window
open, and no signs of the invalid. I was instantly aroused,


102
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
and, with the two footmen, started off at once in search of the
missing girl. It was not difficult to tell the direction which
she had taken, for, starting from under her window, we could
follow her footmarks easily across the lawn to the edge of
the mere, where they vanished close to the gravel path which
leads out of the grounds. The lake there is eight feet deep,
and you can imagine our feelings when we saw that the trail
of the poor demented girl came to an end at the edge of it.
“Of course, we had the drags at once, and set to work to
recover the remains, but no trace of the body could we find.
On the other hand, we brought to the surface an object of a
most unexpected kind. It was a linen bag which contained
within it a mass of old rusted and discolored metal and sev-
eral dull-colored pieces of pebble or glass. This strange find
was all that we could get from the mere, and, although we made
every possible search and inquiry yesterday, we know nothing
of the fate either of Rachel Howells or of Richard Brunton.
The county police are at their wits' end, and I have come up
to you as a last resource.'
“You can imagine, Watson, with what eagerness I listened
to this extraordinary sequence of events, and endeavored to
piece them together, and to devise some common thread upon
which they might all hang. The butler was gone. The maid
was gone. The maid had loved the butler, but had afterwards
had cause to hate him. She was of Welsh blood, fiery and
passionate. She had been terribly excited immediately after
his disappearance. She had flung into the lake a bag con-
taining some curious contents. These were all factors which
had to be taken into consideration, and yet none of them got
quite to the heart of the matter. What was the starting point
of this chain of events? There lay the end of this tangled line.
“I must see that paper, Musgrave,' said I, which this
butler of yours thought it worth his while to consult, even at
the risk of the loss of his place.'
“It is rather an absurd business, this ritual of ours,' he
answered. But it has at least the saving grace of antiquity


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
103
to excuse it. I have a copy of the questions and answers
here if you care to run your eye over them.'
“He handed me the very paper which I have here, Watson,
and this is the strange catechism to which each Musgrave had
to submit when he came to man's estate. I will read
I will read you the
questions and answers as they stand.
6. Whose was it?'
66. His who is gone.'
«• Who shall have it?'
He who will come.'
6. Where was the sun?'
66. Over the oak.'
66. Where was the shadow ?'
66. Under the elm.'
“How was it stepped ?'
“North by ten and by ten, east by five and by five, south
by two and by two, west by one and by one, and so under.'
“ • What shall we give for it?'
66. All that is ours.'
“Why should we give it?'
“For the sake of the trust.'
“The original has no date, but is in the spelling of the
middle of the seventeenth century,' remarked Musgrave. 'I
am afraid, however, that it can be of little help to you in solv-
ing this mystery
“ • At least,' said I, 'it gives us another mystery, and one
which is even more interesting than the first. It may be that
the solution of the one may prove to be the solution of the
other. You will excuse me, Musgrave, if I say that your butler
appears to me to have been a very clever man, and to have
had a clearer insight than ten generations of his masters.'
“'I hardly follow you,' said Musgrave. "The paper seems
to me to be of no practical importance.'
“But to me it seems immensely practical, and I fancy
that Brunton took the same view. He had probably seen it
before that night on which you caught him.'


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
105
something in it which had escaped all those generations of
country squires, and from which he expected some personal
advantage. What was it then, and how had it affected his
fate?
" It was perfectly obvious to me, on reading the ritual, that
the measurements must refer to some spot to which the rest
of the document alluded, and that if we could find that spot,
we should be in a fair way towards finding what the secret
was which the old Musgraves had thought it necessary to
embalm in so curious a fashion. There were two guides
given us to start with, an oak and an elm. As to the oak
there could be no question at all. Right in front of the
house, upon the left-hand side of the drive, there stood a
patriarch among oaks, one of the most magnificent trees that
I have ever seen.
6. That was there when your ritual was drawn up,' said I,
as we drove past it.
« • It was there at the Norman Conquest in all probability,'
he answered. “It has a girth of twenty-three foet.'
Here was one of my fixed points secured.
"Have you any old elms?" I asked.
«« There used to be a very old one over yonder, but it
was struck by lightning ten years ago, and we cut down the
stump.'
6. You can see where it used to bere
“Oh, yes.'
66. There are no other elms?'
“No old ones, but plenty of beeches.'
“" I should like to see where it grew.'
“We had driven up in a dogcart, and my client led me
away at once, without our entering the house, to the scar on
the lawn where the elm had stood. It was nearly midway
between the oak and the house. My investigation seemed to
be progressing.
“I suppose it is impossible to find out how high the elm
was ?' I asked.


106
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“'I can give you it at once. It was sixty-four feet.'
“ • How do you come to know it?' I asked, in surprise.
“When my old tutor used to give me an exercise in trig-
onometry, it always took the shape of measuring heights.
When I was a lad I worked out every tree and building in
the estate.'
“ This was an unexpected piece of luck. My data were
coming more quickly than I could have reasonably hoped.
““Tell me,' I asked, 'did your butler ever ask you such a
question ?
“Reginald Musgrave looked at me in astonishment. Now
that you call it to my mind,' he answered, Brunton did ask
me about the height of the tree some months ago, in connec-
tion with some little argument with the groom.'
“This was excellent news, Watson, for it showed me that I
was on the right road. I looked up at the sun. It was low
in the heavens, and I calculated that in less than an hour it
would lie just above the topmost branches of the old oak.
One condition mentioned in the Ritual would then be fulfilled.
And the shadow of the elm must mean the farther end of the
shadow, otherwise the trunk would have been chosen as the
guide. I had, then, to find where the far end of the shadow
would fall when the sun was just clear of the oak.”
“That must have been difficult, Holmes, when the elm was
no longer there."
“Well, at least I knew that if Brunton could do it, I could
also. Besides, there was no real difficulty. I went with Mus-
grave to his study and whittled myself this peg, to which I
tied this long string with a knot at each yard. Then I took
two lengths of a fishing-rod, which came to just six feet, and I
went back with my client to where the elm had been. The
sun was just grazing the top of the oak. I fastened the rod
on end, marked out the direction of the shadow, and meas-
ured it. It was nine feet in length.
“Of course the calculation now was a simple one. If a rod
of six feet threw a shadow of nine, a tree of sixty-four feet


108
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“We went down a winding stone stair, and my companion,
striking a match, lit a large lantern which stood on a barrel
in the corner. In an instant it was obvious that we had at last
come upon the true place, and that we had not been the only
people to visit the spot recently.
“It had been used for the storage of wood, but the billets,
which had evidently been littered over the floor, were now
piled at the sides, so as to leave a clear space in the middle.
In this space lay a large and heavy flagstone with a rusted
iron ring in the centre to which a thick shepherd's-check muf-
fler was attached.
“By Jove !' cried my client. "That's Brunton's muffler. I
have seen it on him, and could swear to it. What has the vil-
lain been doing here?'
“At my suggestion a couple of the county police were sum-
moned to be present, and I then endeavored to raise the stone
by pulling on the cravat. I could only move it slightly, and it
was with the aid of one of the constables that I succeeded at
last in carrying it to one side. A black hole yawned beneath
into which we all peered, while Musgrave, kneeling at the side,
pushed down the lantern.
“A small chamber about seven feet deep and four feet
square lay open to us. At one side of this was a squat, brass-
bound wooden box, the lid of which was hinged upwards, with
this curious old-fashioned key projecting from the lock. It
was furred outside by a thick layer of dust, and damp and
worms had eaten through the wood, so that a crop of livid
fungi was growing on the inside of it. Several discs of
metal, old coins apparently, such as I hold here, were scat-
tered over the bottom of the box, but it contained nothing
else.
“At the moment, however, we had no thought for the old
chest, for our eyes were riveted upon that which crouched
beside it. It was the figure of a man, clad in a suit of black,
who squatted down upon his hams with his forehead sunk
upon the edge of the box and his two arms thrown out on


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
109
each side of it. The attitude had drawn all the stagnant
blood to the face, and no man could have recognized that
distorted liver-colored countenance; but his height, his dress,
and his hair were all sufficient to show my client, when we ·
had drawn the body up, that it was indeed his missing butler.
He had been dead some days, but there was no wound or
bruise
upon
his person to show how he had met his dreadful
end. When his body had been carried from the cellar we
found ourselves still confronted with a problem which was
almost as formidable as that with which we had started.
“I confess that so far, Watson, I had been disappointed in
my investigation. I had reckoned upon solving the matter
when once I had found the place referred to in the Ritual;
but now I was there, and was apparently as far as ever from
knowing what it was which the family had concealed with
such elaborate precautions. It is true that I had thrown a
light upon the fate of Brunton, but now I had to ascertain
how that fate had come upon him, and what part had been
played in the matter by the woman who had disappeared. I
sat down upon a keg in the corner and thought the whole
matter carefully over.
“You know my methods in such cases, Watson. I put
myself in the man's place and, having first gauged his intelli-
gence, I try to imagine how I should myself have proceeded
under the same circumstances. In this case the matter was
simplified by Brunton's intelligence being quite first-rate, so
that it was unnecessary to make any allowance for the per-
sonal equation, as the astronomers have dubbed it. He knew
that something valuable was concealed. He had spotted the
place. He found that the stone which covered it was just too
heavy for a man to move unaided. What would he do next?
He could not get help from outside, even if he had some one
whom he could trust, without the unbarring of doors and con-
siderable risk of detection. It was better, if he could, to have
his helpmate inside the house. But whom could he ask? This
girl had been devoted to him, A man always finds it hard to


ΙΟ
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
realize that he may have finally lost a woman's love, however
badly he may have treated her. He would try by a few atten-
tions to make his peace with the girl Howells, and then would
engage her as his accomplice. Together they would come at
night to the cellar, and their united force would suffice to
raise the stone. So far I could follow their actions as if I
had actually seen them.
“But for two of them, and one a woman, it must have been
heavy work the raising of that stone. A burly Sussex police-
man and I had found it no light job. What would they do
to assist them? Probably what I should have done myself.
I rose and examined carefully the different billets of wood
which were scattered round the floor. Almost at once I
came upon what I expected. One piece, about three feet in
length, had a very marked indentation at one end, while sev-
eral were flattened at the sides as if they had been com-
pressed by some considerable weight. Evidently, as they
had dragged the stone up they had thrust the chunks of
wood into the chink, until at last, when the opening was large
enough to crawl through, they would hold it open by a billet
placed lengthwise, which might very well become indented at
the lower end, since the whole weight of the stone would press
it down on to the edge of this other slab. So far I was still
on safe ground.
“And now how was I to proceed to reconstruct this mid-
night drama ? Clearly, only one could fit into the hole, and
that one was Brunton. The girl must have waited above.
Brunton then unlocked the box, handed up the contents pre-
sumably—since they were not to be found
and then-and
then what happened ?
“What smouldering fire of vengeance had suddenly sprung
into flame in this passionate Celtic woman's soul when she saw
the man who had wronged her — wronged her, perhaps, far
more than we suspected—in her power ? Was it a chance that
the wood had slipped, and that the stone had shut Brunton into
what had become his sepulchre ? Had she only been guilty


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
III
of silence as to his fate? Or had some sudden blow from
her hand dashed the support away and sent the slab crashing
down into its place? Be that as it might, I seemed to see that
woman's figure still clutching at her treasure trove and flying
wildly up the winding stair, with her ears ringing perhaps
with the muffled screams from behind her and with the drum-
ming of frenzied hands against the slab of stone which was
choking her faithless lover's life out.
“Here was the secret of her blanched face, her shaken
nerves, her peals of hysterical laughter on the next morning.
But what had been in the box? What had she done with
that? Of course, it must have been the old metal and peb-
bles which my client had dragged from the mere. She had
thrown them in there at the first opportunity to remove the
last trace of her crime.
“For twenty minutes I had sat motionless, thinking the
matter out. Musgrave still stood with a very pale face, swing-
ing his lantern and peering down into the hole.
66 These are coins of Charles the First,' said he, holding out
the few which had been in the box; "you see we were right in
fixing our date for the Ritual.'
“We may find something else of Charles the First,' I cried,
as the probable meaning of the first two questions of the Rit-
ual broke suddenly upon me.
• Let me see the contents of
the bag which you fished from the mere.'
“We ascended to his study, and he laid the débris before
me.
I could understand his regarding it as of small impor-
tance when I looked at it, for the metal was almost black and
the stones lustreless and dull. I rubbed one of them on my
sleeve, however, and it glowed afterwards like a spark in the
dark hollow of my hand. The metal work was in the form
of a double ring, but it had been bent and twisted out of its
original shape.
“You must bear in mind,' said I, that the royal party
made head in England even after the death of the king, and
that when they at last fled they probably left many of their


112
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
most precious possessions buried behind them, with the in
tention of returning for them in more peaceful times.'
“My ancestor, Sir Ralph Musgrave, was a prominent Cav.
alier and the right-hand man of Charles the Second in his
wanderings,' said my friend.
“Ah, indeed !' I answered. Well now, I think that really
should give us the last link that we wanted. I must congrat-
ulate you on coming into the possession, though in rather a
tragic manner, of a relic which is of great intrinsic value, but
of even greater importance as an historical curiosity.'
6. What is it, then ?' he gasped in astonishment.
"It is nothing less than the ancient crown of the kings
of England.'
66. The crown !'
* Precisely. Consider what the Ritual says. How does
it run ? " Whose was it ?” “ His who is gone.”
That was
after the execution of Charles. Then, “Who shall have it?"
“He who will come.” That was Charles the Second, whose
advent was already foreseen. There can, I think, be no doubt
that this battered and shapeless diadem once encircled the
brows of the royal Stuarts.'
6. And how came it in the pond ?'
" • Ah, that is a question that will take some time to an-
swer.' And with that I sketched out to him the whole long
chain of surmise and of proof which I had constructed. The
twilight had closed in and the moon was shining brightly in
the sky before my narrative was finished.
66. And how was it then that Charles did not get his crown
when he returned ?' asked Musgrave, pushing back the relic
into its linen bag.
“Ah, there you lay your finger upon the one point which
we shall probably never be able to clear up. It is likely that
the Musgrave who held the secret died in the interval, and
by some oversight left this guide to his descendant without
explaining the meaning of it. From that day to this it has
been handed down from father to son, until at last it came


THE MUSGRAVE RITUAL
113
within reach of a man who tore its secret out of it and lost
his life in the venture.'
"And that's the story of the Musgrave Ritual, Watson.
They have the crown down at Hurlstone—though they had
some legal bother and a considerable sum to pay before they
were allowed to retain it. I am sure that if
you mentioned
my name they would be happy to show it to you. Of the
woman nothing was ever heard, and the probability is that
she got away out of England and carried herself and the
memory of her crime to some land beyond the seas."


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
115
succeeded where the police of three countries had failed, and
that he had outmanæuvred at every point the most accom-
plished swindler in Europe, was insufficient to rouse him from
his nervous prostration.
Three days later we were back in Baker Street together;
but it was evident that my friend would be much the better
for a change, and the thought of a week of spring time in the
country was full of attractions to me also. My old friend,
Colonel Hayter, who had come under my professional care in
Afghanistan, had now taken a house near Reigate in Surrey,
and had frequently asked me to come down to him upon a
visit. On the last occasion he had remarked that if
my
friend
would only come with me he would be glad to extend his
hospitality to him also. A little diplomacy was needed, but
when Holmes understood that the establishment was a bach-
elor one, and that he would be allowed the fullest freedom,
he fell in with my plans and a week after our return from
Lyons we were under the Colonel's roof. Hayter was a
fine old soldier who had seen much of the world, and he soon
found, as I had expected, that Holmes and he had much in
common.
On the evening of our arrival we were sitting in the Colo-
nel's gun-room after dinner, Holmes stretched upon the sofa,
while Hayter and I looked over his little armory of Eastern
weapons.
“By the way," said he suddenly, “I think I'll take one of
these pistols upstairs with me in case we have an alarm."
“ An alarm !" said I.
“Yes, we've had a scare in this part lately. Old Acton,
who is one of our county magnates, had his house broken into
last Monday. No great damage done, but the fellows are
still at large.”
“No clue?” asked Holmes, cocking his eye at the Colonel.
“None as yet. But the affair is a petty one, one of our
little country crimes, which must seem too small for your
attention, Mr. Holmes, after this great international affair."


116
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Holmes waved away the compliment, though his smile
showed that it had pleased him.
“Was there any feature of interest ?”
"I fancy not. The thieves ransacked the library and got
very little for their pains. The whole place was turned upside
down, drawers burst open, and presses ransacked, with the
result that an odd volume of Pope's 'Homer,' two plated can-
dlesticks, an ivory letter-weight, a small oak barometer, and
a ball of twine are all that have vanished.”
“What an extraordinary assortment !" I exclaimed.
“Oh, the fellows evidently grabbed hold of everything they
could get."
Holmes grunted from the sofa.
“The county police ought to make something of that,"
said he; “why, it is surely obvious that"
But I held up a warning finger.
“You are here for a rest, my dear fellow. For Heaven's
sake don't get started on a new problem when your nerves
are all in shreds."
Holmes shrugged his shoulders with a glance of comic res-
ignation towards the Colonel, and the talk drifted away into
less dangerous channels.
It was destined, however, that all my professional caution
should be wasted, for next morning the problem obtruded it-
self upon us in such a way that it was impossible to ignore it,
and our country visit took a turn which neither of us could
have anticipated. We were at breakfast when the Colonel's
butler rushed in with all his propriety shaken out of him.
"Have
you
heard the news, sir ?” he gasped. At the Cun-
ningham's, sir !"
Burglary!" cried the Colonel, with his coffee-cup in mid-air.
“ Murder !"
The Colonel whistled. “By Jove !" said he. “Who's killed,
then? The J. P. or his son ?"
"Neither, sir. It was William the coachinan. Shot through
the heart, sir, and never spoke again."


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
117
“ he's
“Who shot him, then ?"
"The burglar, sir. He was off like a shot and got clean
away. He'd just broke in at the pantry window when Will-
iam came on him and met his end in saving his master's
property."
" What time ?"
“ It was last night, sir, somewhere about twelve."
“Ah, then, we'll step over afterwards," said the Colonel,
coolly settling down to his breakfast again. “It's a bad-
dish business,” he added when the butler had
gone;
our leading man about here, is old Cunningham, and a very
decent fellow too. He'll be cut up over this, for the man
has been in his service for years and was a good servant.
It's evidently the same villains who broke into Acton's.”
“And stole that very singular collection,” said Holmes,
thoughtfully.
“Precisely.”
“Hum! It may prove the simplest matter in the world,
but all the same at first glance this is just a little curious, is
it not? A gang of burglars acting in the country might be
expected to vary the scene of their operations, and not to
crack two cribs in the same district within a few days. When
you spoke last night of taking precautions I remember that it
passed through my mind that this was probably the last par.
ish in England to which the thief or thieves would be likely
to turn their attention which shows that I have still much
to learn."
“I fancy it's some local practitioner,” said the Colonel.
“In that case, of course, Acton's and Cunningham's are just
the places he would go for, since they are far the largest
about here."
“ And richest?"
“Well, they ought to be, but they've had a lawsuit for
some years which has sucked the blood out of both of them,
I fancy. Old Acton has some claim on half Cunningham's
estate, and the lawyers have been at it with both hands."


118
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“If it's a local villain there should not be much difficulty
in running him down,” said Holmes with a yawn. “All right,
Watson, I don't intend to meddle.”
"Inspector Forrester, sir," said the butler, throwing open
the door.
The official, a smart, keen-faced young fellow, stepped into
the room.
“Good-morning, Colonel," said he; “I hope I
don't intrude, but we hear that Mr. Holmes of Baker Street is
here."
The Colonel waved his hand towards my friend, and the
Inspector bowed.
“We thought that perhaps you would care to step across,
Mr. Holmes."
“The fates are against you, Watson," said he, laughing.
“We were chatting about the matter when you came in, In-
spector. Perhaps you can let us have a few details." As he
leaned back in his chair in the familiar attitude I knew that
the case was hopeless.
* We had no clue in the Acton affair. But here we have
plenty to go on, and there's no doubt it is the same party in
each case.
The man was seen."
“ Ah!"
“Yes, sir. But he was off like a deer after the shot that
killed poor William Kirwan was fired. Mr. Cunningham saw
him from the bedroom window, and Mr. Alec Cunningham
saw him from the back passage. It was quarter to twelve
when the alarm broke out. Mr. Cunningham had just got
into bed, and Mr. Alec was smoking a pipe in his dressing-
gown. They both heard William the coachman calling for
help, and Mr. Alec ran down to see what was the matter. The
back door was open, and as he came to the foot of the stairs
he saw two men wrestling together outside. One of them
fired a shot, the other dropped, and the murderer rushed
across the garden and over the hedge. Mr. Cunningham,
looking out of his bedroom, saw the fellow as he gained the
road, but lost sight of him at once. Mr. Alec stopped to


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
119
see if he could help the dying man, and so the villain got
clean away. Beyond the fact that he was a middle-sized man
and dressed in some dark stuff, we have no personal clue;
but we are making energetic inquiries, and if he is a stranger
we shall soon find him out.
“What was this William doing there? Did he say anything
before he died ?"
“Not a word. He lives at the lodge with his mother, and
as he was a very faithful fellow we imagine that he walked up
to the house with the intention of seeing that all was right
there. Of course this Acton business has put every one on
their guard. The robber must have just burst open the door
—the lock has been forced—when William came upon him.”
“Did William say anything to his mother before going out?”
“ She is very old and deaf, and we can get no information
from her. The shock has made her half-witted, but I under-
stand that she was never very bright. There is one very im-
portant circumstance, however. Look at this !"
He took a small piece of torn paper from a note-book and
spread it out upon his knee.
“This was found between the finger and thumb of the dead
man. It appears to be a fragment torn from a larger sheet.
You will observe that the hour mentioned upon it is the very
time at which the poor fellow met his fate. You see that his
murderer might have torn the rest of the sheet from him or
he might have taken this fragment from the murderer. It
reads almost as though it were an appointment."
Holmes took
up
of paper, a fac-simile of which is
here reproduced.
the scrap
& atguardato hoshus,
learn what
maybe


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
121
“ What for ?”
The Inspector shrugged his shoulders. "I don't quite
know, sir. Between ourselves, I think Mr. Holmes has not
quite got over his illness yet. He's been behaving very
queerly, and he is very much excited."
“I don't think you need alarm yourself,” said I. “I have
usually found that there was method in his madness."
“Some folk rnight say there was madness in his method,”
muttered the Inspector. “But he's all on fire to start, Colo-
nel, so we had best go out if you are ready."
We found Holmes pacing up and down in the field, his
chin sunk upon his breast, and his hands thrust into his
trousers pockets.
“The matter grows in interest,” said he.
“ Watson, your
country-trip has been a distinct success. I have had a charm-
ing morning."
“ You have been up to the scene of the crime, I under-
stand," said the Colonel.
“Yes; the Inspector and I have made quite a little re-
connoissance together."
Any success ?”
“Well, we have seen some very interesting things. I'll tell
you what we did as we walk. First of all, we saw the body
of this unfortunate man. He certainly died from a revolver
wound as reported."
“Had you doubted it, then ?"
"Oh, it is as well to test everything. Our inspection was
not wasted. We then had an interview with Mr. Cunningham
and his son, who were able to point out the exact spot where
the murderer had broken through the garden - hedge in his
flight. That was of great interest.”
“Naturally."
“Then we had a look at this poor fellow's mother. We
could get no information from her, however, as she is very
old and feeble."
“And what is the result of your investigations?"
I


122
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“ The conviction that the crime is a very peculiar one,
Perhaps our visit now may do something to make it less ob-
scure. I think that we are both agreed, Inspector, that the
fragment of paper in the dead man's hand, bearing, as it does,
the very hour of his death written upon it, is of extreme im-
portance."
“ It should give a clue, Mr. Holmes.”
It does give a clue. Whoever wrote that note was the
man who brought William Kirwan out of his bed at that
hour. But where is the rest of that sheet of paper ?"
'I examined the ground carefully in the hope of finding it,”
said the Inspector.
“ It was torn out of the dead man's hand. Why was some
one so anxious to get possession of it? Because it incrimi-
nated him. And what would he do with it? Thrust it into
his pocket, most likely, never noticing that a corner of it had
been left in the grip of the corpse. If we could get the rest
of that sheet it is obvious that we should have gone a long
way towards solving the mystery."
“Yes, but how can we get at the criminal's pocket before
we catch the criminal ?”
“Well, well, it was worth thinking over. Then there is an-
other obvious point. The note was sent to William. The man
who wrote it could not have taken it; otherwise, of course, he
might have delivered his own message by word of mouth. Who
brought the note, then? Or did it come through the post ?"
“I have made inquiries," said the Inspector. "William re-
ceived a letter by the afternoon post yesterday. The enve-
lope was destroyed by him."
“ Excellent !" cried Holmes, clapping the Inspector on the
back. “You've seen the postman. It is a pleasure to work
with you. Well, here is the lodge, and if you will come up,
Colonel, I will show you the scene of the crime."
We passed the pretty cottage where the murdered man had
lived, and walked up an oak-lined avenue to the fine old Queen
Anne house, which bears the date of Malplaquet upon the


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
123
lintel of the door. Holmes and the Inspector led us round it
until we came to the side gate, which is separated by a stretch
of garden from the hedge which lines the road. A constable
was standing at the kitchen door.
“Throw the door open, officer,” said Holmes. “Now, it was
on those stairs that young Mr. Cunningham stood and saw the
two men struggling just where we are. Old Mr. Cunningham
was at that window—the second on the left-and he saw the
fellow get away just to the left of that bush. So did the son.
They are both sure of it on account of the bush. Then Mr.
Alec ran out and knelt beside the wounded man. The ground
is
very hard, you see, and there are no marks to guide us.” As
he spoke two men came down the garden path, from round
the angle of the house. The one was an elderly man, with a
strong, deep-lined, heavy-eyed face; the other a dashing young
fellow, whose bright, smiling expression and showy dress were
in strange contrast with the business which had brought us
there.
“ Still at it, then ?" said he to Holmes. “I thought you
Londoners were never at fault. You don't seem to be so very
quick, after all."
“Ah, you must give us a little time,” said Holmes, good-
humoredly.
“You'll want it,” said young Alec Cunningham. “Why, I
don't see that we have any clue at all.”
“There's only one," answered the Inspector. “We thought
that if we could only find- Good heavens, Mr. Holmes !
what is the matter?”
My poor friend's face had suddenly assumed the most
dreadful expression. His eyes rolled upwards, his features
writhed in agony, and with a suppressed groan he dropped on
his face upon the ground. Horrified at the suddenness and
severity of the attack, we carried him into the kitchen, where
he lay back in a large chair, and breathed heavily for some
minutes. Finally, with a shamefaced apology for his weak-
ness, he rose once more


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
125
very peculiar fellow, and who appears to work on lines of his
own. Look, for example, at the queer lot of things which he
took from Acton's—what was it?-a ball of string, a letter-
weight, and I don't know what other odds and ends."
“Well, we are quite in your hands, Mr. Holmes,” said old
Cunningham. “Anything which you or the Inspector may
suggest will most certainly be done."
“In the first place,” said Holmes, “I should like you to
offer a reward-coming from yourself, for the officials may take
a little time before they would agree upon the sum, and these
things cannot be done too promptly. I have jotted down the
form here, if you would not mind signing it. Fifty pound was
quite enough, I thought."
“I would willingly give five hundred,” said the J. P., taking
the slip of paper and the pencil which Holmes handed to him.
“This is not quite correct, however,” he added, glancing over
the document.
"I wrote it rather hurriedly."
" You see you begin, “Whereas, at about a quarter to one
on Tuesday morning an attempt was made,' and so on. It
was at a quarter to twelve, as a matter of fact.'
I was pained at the mistake, for I knew how keenly Holmes
would feel any slip of the kind. It was his specialty to be
accurate as to fact, but his recent illness had shaken him, and
this one little incident was enough to show me that he was
still far from being himself. He was obviously embarrassed
for an instant, while the Inspector raised his eyebrows, and
Alec Cunningham burst into a laugh. The old gentleman
corrected the mistake, however, and handed the paper back
to Holmes.
“Get it printed as soon as possible,” he said; “I think your
idea is an excellent one."
Holmes put the slip of paper carefully away into his pocket-
book.
“And now," said he," it really would be a good thing that
we should all go over the house together and make certain


125
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
that this rather erratic burglar did not, after all, carry any.
thing away with him.”
Before entering, Hoimes made an examination of the door
which had been forced. It was evident that a chisel or strong
knife had been thrust in, and the lock forced back with it
We could see the marks in the wood where it had beer
pushed in.
“You don't use bars, then ?” he asked.
“We have never found it necessary."
“ You don't keep a dog?"
“ Yes, but he is chained on the other side of the house."
“When do the servants go to bed ?"
“ About ten.”
“I understand that William was usually in bed also at
that hour?”
6. Yes."
“It is singular that on this particular night he should have
been up. Now, I should be very glad if you would have the
kindness to show us over the house, Mr. Cunningham."
A stone-flagged passage, with the kitchens branching away
from it, led by a wooden staircase directly to the first floor of
the house. It came out upon the landing opposite to a sec-
ond more ornamental stair which came up from the front hall.
Out of this landing opened the drawing-room and several
bedrooms, including those of Mr. Cunningham and his son.
Holmes walked slowly, taking keen note of the architecture of
the house. I could tell from his expression that he was on a
hot scent, and yet I could not in the least imagine in what
direction his inferences were leading him.
“My good sir,” said Mr. Cunningham, with some impa-
tience, “this is surely very unnecessary. That is my room
at the end of the stairs, and my son's is the one beyond it.
I leave it to your judgment whether it was possible for the
thief to have come up here without disturbing us.”
“You must try round and get on a fresh scent, I fancy,"
said the son with a rather malicious smile.


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
127
“Still, I must ask you to humor me a little further. I
should like, for example, to see how far the windows of the
bedrooms command the front. This, I understand, is your
son's room”-he pushed open the door—"and that, I pre-
sume, is the dressing-room in which he sat smoking when the
alarm was given. Where does the window of that look out
to?" He stepped across the bedroom, pushed open the door,
and glanced round the other chamber.
“I hope that you are satisfied now?” said Mr. Cunningham,
tartly.
Thank
you,
I think I have seen all that I wished.”
“ Then if it is really necessary we can go into my room.”
“ If it is not too much trouble."
The J. P.shrugged his shoulders, and led the way into his
own chamber, which was a plainly furnished and common-
place room. As we moved across it in the direction of the
window, Holmes fell back until he and I were the last of the
group. Near the foot of the bed stood a dish of oranges and
a carafe of water. As we passed it Holmes, to my unutter-
able astonishment, leaned over in front of me and deliberately
knocked the whole thing over. The glass smashed into a
thousand pieces and the fruit rolled about into every corner
of the room.
“You've done it now, Watson," said he, coolly. “A pretty
mess you've made of the carpet."
I stooped in some confusion and began to pick up the fruit,
understanding for some reason my companion desired me to
take the blame upon myself. The others did the same, and
set the table on its legs again.
“Hullo !" cried the Inspector," where's he got to ?"
Holmes had disappeared.
“ Wait here an instant,” said young Alec Curningham.
“The fellow is off his head, in my opinion. Come with me,
father, and see where he has got to !"
They rushed out of the room, leaving the Inspector, the
Colonel, and me staring at each other.


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
129
'Keep that,” said Holmes, quietly putting his foot upon
it; “ you will find it useful at the trial. But this is what we
really wanted." He held up a little crumpled piece of paper.
" The remainder of the sheet !" cried the Inspector.
“Precisely."
" And where was it?"
“ Where I was sure it must be. I'll make the whole matter
clear to you presently. I think, Colonel, that you and Wat-
son might return now, and I will be with you again in an hour
at the furthest. The Inspector and I must have a word with
the prisoners, but you will certainly see me back at luncheon
time.”
Sherlock Holmes was as good as his word, for about one
o'clock he rejoined us in the Colonel's smoking-room. He
was accompanied by a little elderly gentleman, who was in-
troduced to me as the Mr. Acton whose house had been the
scene of the original burglary.
“I wished Mr. Acton to be present while I demonstrated
this small matter to you,” said Holmes, “for it is natural that
he should take a keen interest in the details. I am afraid,
my dear Colonel, that you must regret the hour that you took
in such a stormy petrel as I am.”
“On the contrary," answered the Colonel, warmly, “I con-
sider it the greatest privilege to have been permitted to study
your methods of working. I confess that they quite surpass
my expectations, and that I am utterly unable to account for
your result. I have not yet seen the vestige of a clue.”
"I am afraid that my explanation may disillusion you, but
it has always been my habit to hide none of my methods, either
from
my
friend Watson or from any one who might take an
intelligent interest in them. But, first, as I am rather shaken
by the knocking about which I had in the dressing-room, I
think that I shall help myself to a dash of your brandy, Colo-
nel. My strength has been rather tried of late."
“I trust you had no more of those nervous attacks."


130
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Sherlock Holmes laughed heartily. “We will come to that
in its turn,” said he. “I will lay an account of the case be-
fore you in its due order, showing you the various points
which guided me in my decision. Pray interrupt me if there
is any inference which is not perfectly clear to you.
“It is of the highest importance in the art of detection to
be able to recognize, out of a number of facts, which are inci-
dental and which vital. Otherwise your energy and attention
must be dissipated instead of being concentrated. Now, in
this case there was not the slightest doubt in my mind from
the first that the key of the whole matter must be looked for
in the scrap
of
paper
in the dead man's hand.
“Before going into this, I would draw your attention to the
fact that, if Alec Cunningham's narrative was correct, and if
the assailant, after shooting William Kirwan, had instantly
fled, then it obviously could not be he who tore the paper
from the dead man's hand. But if it was not he, it must
have been Alec Cunningham himself, for by the time that
the old man had descended several servants were upon the
scene. The point is a simple one, but the Inspector had
overlooked it because he had started with the supposition
that these county magnates had had nothing to do with the
matter. Now, I make a point of never having any prejudices,
and of following docilely wherever fact may lead me, and so,
in the very first stage of the investigation, I found myself
looking a little askance at the part which had been played by
Mr. Alec Cunningham.
“And now I made a very careful examination of the corner
of paper which the Inspector had submitted to us. It was at
once clear to me that it formed part of a very remarkable doc-
ument. Here it is. Do you not now observe something very
suggestive about it?"
“ It has a very irregular look," said the Colonel.
“My dear sir,” cried Holmes, “there cannot be the least
doubt in the world that it has been written by two persons
doing alternate words. When I draw your attention to the



as
“THERE CANNOT BE THE LEAST DOUBT IN THE WORLD THAT IT HAS BEEN WRITTEN BY TWO PERSONS,





THE REIGATE PUZZLE
137
strong t's of 'at' and 'to,' and ask you to compare them with
the weak ones of 'quarter' and 'twelve, you will instantly
recognize the fact. A very brief analysis of these four words
would enable you to say with the utmost confidence that the
* learn' and the.maybe' are written in the stronger hand, and
the "what' in the weaker."
“By Jove, it's as clear as day!” cried the Colonel. “Why
on earth should two men write a letter in such a fashion ?”
"Obviously the business was a bad one, and one of the
men who distrusted the other was determined that, whatever
was done, each should have an equal hand in it. Now, of
the two men, it is clear that the one who wrote the 'at' and
'to' was the ringleader."
“How do you get at that?”
“We might deduce it from the mere character of the one
hand as compared with the other. But we have more assured
reasons than that for supposing it. If you
examine this scrap
with attention you will come to the conclusion that the man
with the stronger hand wrote all his words first, leaving blanks
for the other to fill up. These blanks were not always suffi-
cient, and you can see that the second man had a squeeze to
fit his 'quarter' in between the 'at' and the 'to,' showing that
the latter were already written. The man who wrote all his
words first is undoubtedly the man who planned the affair.”
“Excellent !" cried Mr. Acton.
“But very superficial,” said Holmes. “We come now, how-
ever, to a point which is of importance. You may not be aware
that the deduction of a man's age from his writing is one which
has been brought to considerable accuracy by experts. In
normal cases one can place a man in his true decade with
tolerable confidence. I say normal cases, because ill-health
and physical weakness reproduce the signs of old age, even
when the invalid is a youth. In this case, looking at the bold,
strong hand of the one, and the rather broken-backed appear-.
ance of the other, which still retains its legibility although
the t's have begun to lose their crossing, we can say that the


132
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
66
one was a young man and the other was advanced in years
without being positively decrepit."
“Excellent !” cried Mr. Acton again.
“There is a further point, however, which is subtler and of
greater interest. There is something in common between
these hands. They belong to men who are blood-relatives.
It may be most obvious to you in the Greek e's, but to me
there are many small points which indicate the same thing.
I have no doubt at all that a family mannerism can be traced
in these two specimens of writing. I am only, of course, giv-
ing you the leading results now of my examination of the pa-
per. There were twenty-three other deductions which would
be of more interest to experts than to you. They all tend to
deepen the impression upon my mind that the Cunninghams,
father and son, had written this letter.
· Having got so far, my next step was, of course, to examine
into the details of the crime, and to see how far they would
help us. I went up to the house with the Inspector, and saw all
that was to be seen. The wound upon the dead man was, as
I was able to determine with absolute confidence, fired from
a revolver at the distance of something over four yards. There
was no powder-blackening on the clothes. Evidently, there-
fore, Alec Cunningham had lied when he said that the two
men were struggling when the shot was fired. Again, both
father and son agreed as to the place where the man escaped
into the road. At that point, however, as it happens, there is
a broadish ditch, moist at the bottom. As there were no indi-
cations of boot-marks about this ditch, I was absolutely sure
not only that the Cunninghams had again lied, but that there
had never been any unknown man upon the scene at all.
" And now I have to consider the motive of this singular
«crime. To get at this, I endeavored first of all to solve the
reason of the original burglary at Mr. Acton's. I understood,
from something which the Colonel told us, that a lawsuit had
been going on between you, Mr. Acton, and the Cunninghams.
Of course, it instantly occurred to me that they had broken


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
133
into your library with the intention of getting at some docu-
ment which might be of importance in the case.”
“Precisely so," said Mr. Acton. “There can be no possi-
ble doubt as to their intentions. I have the clearest claim
upon half of their present estate, and if they could have found
a single paper-which, fortunately, was in the strong-box of
ny solicitors -- they would undoubtedly have crippled our
case."
“There you are," said Holmes, smiling. “It was a dan-
gerous, reckless attempt, in which I seem to trace the influ-
ence of young Alec. Having found nothing, they tried to di-
vert suspicion by making it appear to be an ordinary burglary,
to which end they carried off whatever they could lay their
hands upon. That is all clear enough, but there was much
that was still obscure. What I wanted above all was to get
the missing part of that note. I was certain that Alec had
torn it out of the dead man's hand, and almost certain that
he must have thrust it into the pocket of his dressing-gown.
Where else could he have put it? The only question was
whether it was still there. It was worth an effort to find out,
and for that object we all went up to the house.
“ The Cunninghams joined us, as you doubtless remember,
outside the kitchen door. It was, of course, of the very
first
importance that they should not be reminded of the existence
of this paper, otherwise they would naturally destroy it with-
out delay. The Inspector was about to tell them the impor-
tance which we attached to it when, by the luckiest chance in
the world, I tumbled down in a sort of fit and so changed the
conversation."
“Good heavens !” cried the Colonel, laughing, “ do you
mean to say all our sympathy was wasted and
your
fit an im-
posture?”
“Speaking professionally, it was admirably done,” cried I,
looking in annazement at this man who was forever confound-
ing me with some new phase of his astuteness.
“ It is an art which is often useful,” said he. “When I


134
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
recovered I managed, by a device which had perhaps some
little merit of ingenuity, to get old Cunningham to write the
word 'twelve,' so that I might compare it with the 'twelve'
upon the paper."
“Oh, what an ass I have been !" I exclaimed.
“I could see that you were commiserating me over my
weakness," said Holmes, laughing. “I was sorry to cause
you the sympathetic pain which I know that you felt. We
then went upstairs together, and having entered the room
and seen the dressing-gown hanging up behind the door, I
contrived, by upsetting a table, to engage their attention for
the moment, and slipped back to examine the pockets. I
had hardly got the paper, however-which was, as I had ex-
pected, in one of them-when the two Cunninghams were
on me, and would, I verily believe, have murdered me then
and there but for your prompt and friendly aid. As it is, I
feel that young man's grip on my throat now, and the father
has twisted my wrist round in the effort to get the paper out
of my hand. They saw that I must know all about it, you
see, and the sudden change from absolute security to com-
plete despair made them perfectly desperate.
“I had a little talk with old Cunningham afterwards as to
the motive of the crime. He was tractable enough, though
his son was a perfect demon, ready to blow out his own or
anybody else's brains if he could have got to his revolver.
When Cunningham saw that the case against him was so
strong he lost all heart and made a clean breast of every-
thing. It seems that William had secretly followed his two
masters on the night when they made their raid upon Mr.
Acton's, and having thus got them into his power, proceed-
ed, under threats of exposure, to levy black-mail upon them.
Mr. Alec, however, was a dangerous man to play games of
that sort with. It was a stroke of positive genius on his part
to see in the burglary scare which was convulsing the coun-
try side an opportunity of plausibly getting rid of the man
whom he feared. William was decoyed up and shot, and had


THE REIGATE PUZZLE
135
they only got the whole of the note and paid a little more
attention to detail in their accessories, it is very possible that
suspicion might never have been aroused.”
“ And the note ?" I asked.
Sherlock Holmes placed the subjoined paper before us.
be
If you
upon the matter
Irrse
will
of
to Annie Morrison. But
the gozatrat surato
to the root gate you
See More
much surpriss you
D2
Come rowno
man
and
you с.
say nothing to anyone
and also


136
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“It is very much the sort of thing that I expected,” said
he. “Of course, we do not yet kncw what the relations may
have been between Alec Cunningham, William Kirwan, and
Annie Morrison. The result shows that the trap was skil-
fully baited.
I am sure that you cannot fail to be delighted
with the traces of heredity shown in the p's and in the tails
of the gos. The absence of the 2-dots in the old man's writ-
ing is also most characteristic. Watson, I think our quiet
rest in the country has been a distinct success, and I shall
certainly return much invigorated to Baker Street to-morrow.”


Adventure #18
THE CROOKED MAN
NE summer night, a few months after my mar-
riage, I was seated by my own hearth smoking
a last pipe and nodding over a novel, for my
day's work had been an exhausting one. My
wife had already gone upstairs, and the sound
of the locking of the hall door some time before told me that
the servants had also retired. I had risen from my seat and
was knocking out the ashes of my pipe when I suddenly heard
the clang of the bell.
I looked at the clock. It was a quarter to twelve. This
could not be a visitor at so late an hour. A patient, evidently,
and possibly an all-night sitting. With a wry face I went out
into the hall and opened the door. To my astonishment it
was Sherlock Holmes who stood upon my step.
“Ah, Watson," said he, “I hoped that I might not be too
late to catch you."
“My dear fellow, pray come in.”.
“ You look surprised, and no wonder ! Relieved, too, I
fancy! Hum! You still smoke the Arcadia mixture of your
bachelor days then! There's no mistaking that fluffy ash
upon your coat. It's easy to tell that you have been accus-
tomed to wear a uniform, Watson. You'll never pass as a
pure-bred civilian as long as you keep that habit of carrying
your handkerchief in your sleeve. Could you put me up to-
night?”
“With pleasure.”
“You told me that you had bachelor quarters for one, and
K


138
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
I see that you have no gentleman visitor at present. Your
hat-stand proclaims as much.”
“I shall be delighted if you will stay."
“Thank you. I'll fill the vacant peg then. Sorry to see
that you've had the British workman in the house. He's a
token of evil. Not the drains, I hope?"
“No, the gas.”
" Ah! He has left two nail-marks from his boot upon your
linoleum just where the light strikes it. No, thank you, I had
some supper at Waterloo, but I'll smoke a pipe with
you
with
pleasure."
I handed him my pouch, and he seated himself opposite to
me and smoked for some time in silence. I was well aware
that nothing but business of importance would have brought
him to me at such an hour, so I waited patiently until he
should come round to it.
“I see that you are professionally rather busy just now,"
said he, glancing very keenly across at me.
“Yes, I've had a busy day," I answered. “It may seem
very foolish in your eyes," I added, “but really I don't know
how you deduced it.”
Holmes chuckled to himself.
“I have the advantage of knowing your habits, my dear
Watson,” said he.
“When your round is a short one you
walk, and when it is a long one you use a hansom. As I
perceive that your boots, although used, are by no means
dirty, I cannot doubt that you are at present busy enough to
justify the hansom.”
“ Excellent !" I cried.
“Elementary," said he. “It is one of those instances where
the reasoner can produce an effect which seems remarkable
to his neighbor, because the latter has missed the one little
point which is the basis of the deduction. The same may be
said, my dear fellow, for the effect of some of these little
sketches of yours, which is entirely meretricious, depending as
it does upon your retaining in your own hands some factors in


THE CROOKED MAN
139
the problem which are never imparted to the reader. Now, at
present I am in the position of these same readers, for I hold
in this hand several threads of one of the strangest cases
which ever perplexed a man's brain, and yet I lack the one
or two which are needful to complete my theory. But I'll
have them, Watson, I'll have them !" His eyes kindled and
a slight flush sprang into his thin cheeks. For an instant the
veil had lifted upon his keen, intense nature, but for an in-
stant only. When I glanced again his face had resumed that
red-Indian composure which had made so many regard him
as a machine rather than a man.
“The problem presents features of interest,” said he. “I
may even say exceptional features of interest. I have already
looked into the matter, and have come, as I think, within
sight of my solution. If you could accompany me in that last
step you might be of considerable service to me.”
“I should be delighted."
“Could you go as far as Aldershot to-morrow?"
“I have no doubt Jackson would take my practice."
* Very good. I want to start by the 11.10 from Waterloo."
“That would give me time.”
“Then, if you are not too sleepy, I will give you a sketch
of what has happened, and of what remains to be done.”
“I was sleepy before you came. I am quite wakeful now.”
“I will compress the story as far as may be done without
omitting anything vital to the case. It is conceivable that
you may even have read some account of the matter. It is
the supposed murder of Colonel Barclay, of the Royal Mun-
sters, at Aldershot, which I am investigating."
“I have heard nothing of it.”
"It has not excited much attention yet, except locally.
The facts are only two days old. Briefly they are these :
“ The Royal Munsters is, as you know, one of the most
famous Irish regiments in the British army. It did wonders
both in the Crimea and the Mutiny, and has since that time
distinguished itself upon every possible occasion.
It was


140
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
commanded up to Monday night by James Barclay, a gallant
veteran, who started as a full private, was raised to commis-
sioned rank for his bravery at the time of the Mutiny, and so
lived to command the regiment in which he had once carried
a musket.
“ Colonel Barclay had married at the time when he was a
sergeant, and his wife, whose maiden name was Miss Nancy
Devoy, was the daughter of a former color-sergeant in the
same corps. There was, therefore, as can be imagined, some
little social friction when the young couple (for they were still
young) found themselves in their new surroundings. They
appear, however, to have quickly adapted themselves, and
Mrs. Barclay has always, I understand, been as popular with
the ladies of the regiment as her husband was with his broth-
er officers. I may add that she was a woman of great beauty,
and that even now, when she has been married for upwards of
thirty years, she is still of a striking and queenly appearance.
“Colonel Barclay's family life appears to have been a uni-
formly happy one. Major Murphy, to whom I owe most of
my facts, assures me that he has never heard of any misun-
derstanding between the pair. On the whole, he thinks that
Barclay's devotion to his wife was greater than his wife's to
Barclay. He was acutely uneasy if he were absent from her
for a day. She, on the other hand, though devoted and faith-
ful, was less obtrusively affectionate. But they were regarded
in the regiment as the very model of a middle-aged couple.
There was absolutely nothing in their mutual relations to pre-
pare people for the tragedy which was to follow.
“Colonel Barclay himself seems to have had some singular
traits in his character. He was a dashing, jovial old soldier
in his usual mood, but there were occasions on which he
seemed to show himself capable of considerable violence and
vindictiveness. This side of his nature, however, appears
never to have been turned towards his wife. Another fact,
which had struck Major Murphy and three out of five of
the other officers with whom I conversed, was the singular


THE CROOKED MAN
141
sort of depression which came upon him at times. As the
major expressed it, the smile had often been struck from his
mouth, as if by some invisible hand, when he has been joining
in the gayeties and chaff of the mess-table. For days on end,
when the mood was on him, he has been sunk in the deepest
gloom. This and a certain tinge of superstition were the
only unusual traits in his character which his brother officers
had observed. The latter peculiarity took the form of a dis-
like to being left alone, especially after dark. This puerile
feature in a nature which was conspicuously manly had often
given rise to comment and conjecture.
“ The first battalion of the Royal Munsters (which is the
old 117th) has been stationed at Aldershot for some years.
The married officers live out of barracks, and the Colonel
has during all this time occupied a villa called Lachine, about
half a mile from the north camp. The house stands in its
own grounds, but the west side of it is not more than thirty
yards from the high-road. A coachman and two maids form
the staff of servants. These with their master and mistress
were the sole occupants of Lachine, for the Barclays had no
children, nor was it usual for them to have resident visitors.
“Now for the events at Lachine between nine and ten on
the evening of last Monday.
“Mrs. Barclay was, it appears, a member of the Roman
Catholic Church, and had interested herself very much in the
establishment of the Guild of St. George, which was formed
in connection with the Watt Street Chapel for the purpose
of supplying the poor with cast-off clothing. A meeting of
the Guild had been held that evening at eight, and Mrs.
Barclay had hurried over her dinner in order to be present
at it. When leaving the house she was heard by the coach-
man to make some commonplace remark to her husband,
and to assure him that she would be back before very long.
She then called for Miss Morrison, a young lady who lives in
the next villa, and the two went off together to their meeting.
It lasted forty minutes, and at a quarter-past nine Mrs. Bar-


142
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
clay returned home, having left Miss Morrison at her door as
she passed.
“There is a room which is used as a morning-room at La-
chine. This faces the road and opens by a large glass fold-
ing-door on to the lawn. The lawn is thirty yards across, and
is only divided from the highway by a low wall with an iron
rail above it. It was into this room that Mrs. Barclay went
upon her return. The blinds were not down, for the room
was seldom used in the evening, but Mrs. Barclay herself lit
the lamp and then rang the bell, asking Jane Stewart, the
housemaid, to bring her a cup of tea, which was quite con-
trary to her usual habits. The Colonel had been sitting in
the dining-room, but hearing that his wife had returned he
joined her in the morning-room. The coachman saw him
cross the hall and enter it. He was never seen again alive.
“ The tea which had been ordered was brought up at the
end of ten minutes; but the maid, as she approached the
door, was surprised to hear the voices of her master and mis-
tress in furious altercation. She knocked without receiving
any answer, and even turned the handle, but only to find that
the door was locked upon the inside. Naturally enough she
ran down to tell the cook, and the two women with the coach-
man came up into the hall and listened to the dispute which
was still raging. They all agreed that only two voices were
to be heard, those of Barclay and of his wife. Barclay's
remarks were subdued and abrupt, so that none of them
were audible to the listeners. The lady's, on the other hand,
were most bitter, and when she raised her voice could be
plainly heard. 'You coward ! she repeated over and over
again. What can be done now? What can be done now?
Give me back my life. I will never so much as breathe
the same air with you again! You coward ! You coward !'
Those were scraps of her conversation, ending in a sudden
dreadful cry in the man's voice, with a crash, and a piercing
scream from the woman. Convinced that some tragedy had
occurred, the coachman rushed to the door and strove to


THE CROOKED MAN
143
force it, while scream after scream issued from within. He
was unable, however, to make his way in, and the maids were
too distracted with fear to be of any assistance to him. A
sudden thought struck him, however, and he ran through the
hall door and round to the lawn upon which the long French
windows open. One side of the window was open, which I
understand was quite usual in the summer-time, and he passed
without difficulty into the room. His mistress had ceased to
scream and was stretched insensible upon a couch, while with
his feet tilted over the side of an arm-chair, and his head
upon the ground near the corner of the fender, was lying the
unfortunate soldier stone dead in a pool of his own blood.
“Naturally, the coachman's first thought, on finding that he
could do nothing for his master, was to open the door. But
here an unexpected and singular difficulty presented itself.
The key was not in the inner side of the door, nor could he
find it anywhere in the room. He went out again, therefore,
through the window, and having obtained the help of a po-
liceman and of a medical man, he returned. The lady, against
whom naturally the strongest suspicion rested, was removed
to her room, still in a state of insensibility. The Colonel's
body was then placed upon the sofa, and a careful examina-
tion made of the scene of the tragedy.
“The injury from which the unfortunate veteran was suffer-
ing was found to be a jagged cut some two inches long at the
back part of his head, which had evidently been caused by a
violent blow from a blunt weapon. Nor was it difficult to
guess what that weapon may have been. Upon the floor,
close to the body, was lying a singular club of hard carved
wood with a bone handle. The Colonel possessed a varied
collection of weapons brought from the different countries in
which he had fought, and it is conjectured by the police that
this club was among his trophies. The servants deny having
seen it before, but among the numerous curiosities in the
house it is possible that it may have been overlooked. Noth-
ing else of importance was discovered in the room by the


144
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
police, save the inexplicable fact that neither upon Mrs. Bar-
clay's person nor upon that of the victim nor in any part of
the room was the missing key to be found. The door had
eventually to be opened by a locksmith from Aldershot.
“That was the state of things, Watson, when upon the Tues-
day morning I, at the request of Major Murphy, went down
to Aldershot to supplement the efforts of the police. I think
that you will acknowledge that the problem was already one
of interest, but my observations soon made me realize that it
was in truth much more extraordinary than would at first
sight appear.
“Before examining the room I cross-questioned the ser-
vants, but only succeeded in eliciting the facts which I have
already stated. One other detail of interest was remembered
by Jane Stewart, the housemaid. You will remember that on
hearing the sound of the quarrel she descended and returned
with the other servants. On that first occasion, when she
was alone, she says that the voices of her master and mistress
were sunk so low that she could hear hardly anything, and
judged by their tones rather than their words that they had
fallen out. On my pressing her, however, she remembered
that she heard the word David uttered twice by the lady.
The point is of the utmost importance as guiding us towards
the reason of the sudden quarrel. The Colonel's name, you
remember, was James.
“There was one thing in the case which had made the
deepest impression both upon the servants and the police.
This was the contortion of the Colonel's face. It had set, ac-
cording to their account, into the most dreadful expression of
fear and horror which a human countenance is capable of as-
suming. More than one person fainted at the mere sight of
him, so terrible was the effect. It was quite certain that he
had foreseen his fate, and that it had caused him the utmost
horror. This, of course, fitted in well enough with the police
theory, if the Colonel could have seen his wife making a mur-
derous attack upon him. Nor was the fact of the wound be-


THE CROOKED MAN
145
ing on the back of his head a fatal objection to this, as he
might have turned to avoid the blow. No information could
be got from the lady herself, who was temporarily insane
from an acute attack of brain-fever.
“From the police I learned that Miss Morrison, who you
remember went out that evening with Mrs. Barclay, denied
having any knowledge of what it was which had caused the
ill-humor in which her companion had returned.
“Having gathered these facts, Watson, I smoked several
pipes over them, trying to separate those which were crucial
from others which were merely incidental. There could be
no question that the most distinctive and suggestive point in
the case was the singular disappearance of the door-key. A
most careful search had failed to discover it in the room.
Therefore it must have been taken from it. But neither the
Colonel nor the Colonel's wife could have taken it. That
was perfectly clear. Therefore a third person must have en-
tered the room. And that third person could only have come
in through the window. It seemed to me that a careful exam-
ination of the room and the lawn might possibly reveal some
traces of this mysterious individual. You know my meth-
ods, Watson. There was not one of them which I did not ap-
ply to the inquiry. And it ended by my discovering traces,
but very different ones from those which I had expected.
There had been a man in the room, and he had crossed the
lawn coming from the road. I was able to obtain five very
clear impressions of his foot-marks: one in the roadway it-
self, at the point where he had climbed the low wall, two on
the lawn, and two very faint ones upon the stained boards
near the window where he had entered. He had apparently
rushed across the lawn, for his toe-marks were much deeper
than his heels. But it was not the man who surprised me.
It was his companion."
“ His companion !"
Holmes pulled a large sheet of tissue-paper out of his
pocket and carefully unfolded it upon his knee.


146
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
" What do
you
make of that?” he asked.
The paper was covered with the tracings of the foot-marks
of some small animal. It had five well-marked foot-pads, an
indication of long nails, and the whole print might be nearly
as large as a dessert-spoon.
“It's a dog," said I.
“Did you ever hear of a dog running up a curtain? I
found distinct traces that this creature had done so."
“A monkey, then ?”
“But it is not the print of a monkey."
* What can it be, then?"
“ Neither dog nor cat nor monkey nor any creature that
we are familiar with. I have tried to reconstruct it from the
measurements. Here are four prints where the beast has
been standing motionless. You see that it is no less than
fifteen inches from fore-foot to hind. Add to that the length
of neck and head, and you get a creature not much less than
two feet long-probably more if there is any tail. But now
observe this other measurement. The animal has been mov-
ing, and we have the length of its stride. In each case it is
only about three inches. You have an indication, you see,
of a long body with very short legs attached to it. It has
not been considerate enough to leave any of its hair behind
it. But its general shape must be what I have indicated, and
it can run up a curtain, and it is carnivorous.”
“How do you deduce that ?"
“Because it ran up the curtain. A canary's cage was
hanging in the window, and its aim seems to have been to
get at the bird.”
“ Then what was the beast?"
“Ah, if I could give it a name it might go a long way
towards solving the case. On the whole, it was probably
some creature of the weasel and stoat tribe--and yet it is
larger than
any
of these that I have seen.”
“ But what had it to do with the crime ?"
“That, also, is still obscure. But we have learned a good


THE CROOKED MAN
147
6. Thank you, you
deal, you perceive. We know that a man stood in the road
looking at the quarrel between the Barclays--the blinds were
up and the room lighted. We know, also, that he ran across
the lawn, entered the room, accompanied by a strange ani-
mal, and that he either struck the Colonel or, as is equally
possible, that the Colonel fell down from sheer fright at the
sight of him, and cut his head on the corner of the fender.
Finally, we have the curious fact that the intruder carried
away the key with him when he left.”
“ Your discoveries seem to have left the business more ob-
scure than it was before,” said I.
“Quite so. They undoubtedly showed that the affair was
much deeper than was at first conjectured. I thought the
matter over, and I came to the conclusion that I must ap-
proach the case from another aspect. But really, Watson, I
am keeping you up, and I might just as well tell you all this
on our way to Aldershot to-morrow.”
have
gone
rather too far to stop."
“ It is quite certain that when Mrs. Barclay left the house
at half-past seven she was on good terms with her husband.
She was never, as I think I have said, ostentatiously affec-
tionate, but she was heard by the coachman chatting with
the Colonel in a friendly fashion. Now, it was equally cer-
tain that, immediately on her return, she had gone to the
room in which she was least likely to see her husband, had
flown to tea as an agitated woman will, and finally, on his com-
ing in to her, had broken into violent recriminations. There-
fore something had occurred between seven-thirty and nine
o'clock which had completely altered her feelings towards him.
But Miss Morrison had been with her during the whole of that
hour and a half. It was absolutely certain, therefore, in spite
of her denial, that she must know something of the matter.
"My first conjecture was, that possibly there had been some
passages between this young lady and the old soldier, which
the former had now confessed to the wife. That would ac-
count for the angry return, and also for the girl's denial that


THE CROOKED MAN
149
passing him when he raised his face to look at us in the circle
of light thrown by the lamp, and as he did so he stopped
and screamed out in a dreadful voice, “My God, it's Nancy!"
Mrs. Barclay turned as white as death, and would have fallen
down had the dreadful-looking creature not caught hold of
her. I was going to call for the police, but she, to my sur-
prise, spoke quite civilly to the fellow.
66 6“ I thought you had been dead this thirty years, Henry,”
said she, in a shaking voice.
"6" So I have,” said he, and it was awful to hear the tones
that he said it in. He had a very dark, fearsome face, and a
gleam in his eyes that comes back to me in my dreams. His
hair and whiskers were shot with gray, and his face was all
crinkled and puckered like a withered apple
"6" Just walk on a little way, dear," said Mrs. Barclay; “I
want to have a word with this man. There is nothing to be
afraid of.” She tried to speak boldly, but she was still deadly
pale and could hardly get her words out for the trembling of
her lips.
«•I did as she asked me, and they talked together for a few
minutes. Then she came down the street with her
eyes
blaz-
ing, and I saw the crippled wretch standing by the lamp-post
and shaking his clenched fists in the air as if he were mad
She never said a word until we were at the door
here, when she took ine by the hand and begged me to tell
no one what had happened.
““It's an old acquaintance of mine who has come down
in the world,” said she. When I promised her I would say
nothing she kissed me, and I have never seen her since. I
have told you now the whole truth, and if I withheld it from
the police it is because I did not realize then the danger in
which my dear friend stood. I know that it can only be to
her advantage that everything should be known.'
There was her statement, Watson, and to me, as you can
imagine, it was like a light on a dark night. Everything
which had been disconnected before began at once to assume
with rage.


150
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
its true place, and I had a shadowy presentiment of the
whole sequence of events. My next step obviously was to
find the man who had produced such a remarkable impres-
sion upon Mrs. Barclay. If he were still in Aldershot it
should not be a very difficult matter. There are not such a
very great number of civilians, and a deformed man was sure
to have attracted attention. I spent a day in the search, and
by evening—this very evening, Watson—I had run him down.
The man's name is Henry Wood, and he lives in lodgings in
this same street in which the ladies met him. He has only
been five days in the place. In the character of a registra-
tion-agent I had a most interesting gossip with his landlady.
The man is by trade a conjurer and performer, going round
the canteens after nightfall, and giving a little entertainment
at each. He carries some creature about with him in that
box, about which the landlady seemed to be in considerable
trepidation, for she had never seen an animal like it.
He
uses it in some of his tricks according to her account. So
much the woman was able to tell me, and also that it was a
wonder the man lived, seeing how twisted he was, and that he
spoke in a strange tongue sometimes, and that for the last
two nights she had heard him groaning and weeping in his
bedroom. He was all right, as far as money went, but in his
deposit he had given her what looked like a bad florin. She
showed it to me, Watson, and it was an Indian rupee.
“So now, my dear fellow, you see exactly how we stand and
why it is I want you. It is perfectly plain that after the ladies
parted from this man he followed them at a distance, that he
saw the quarrel between husband and wife through the win-
dow, that he rushed in, and that the creature which he carried
in his box got loose. That is all very certain. But he is the
only person in this world who can tell us exactly what hap
pened in that room."
And
you
intend to ask him?"
“ Most certainly--but in the presence of a witness."
6 And I am the witness ?”


THE CROOKED MAN
151
"If you will be so good. If he can clear the matter up,
well and good. If he refuses, we have no alternative but to
apply for a warrant.”
“But how do you know he'll be there when we return ?"
“ You may be sure that I took some precautions. I have
one of my Baker Street boys mounting guard over him who
would stick to him like a burr, go where he might. We shall
find him in Hudson Street to-morrow, Watson, and meanwhile
I should be the criminal myself if I kept you out of bed any
longer.”
It was midday when we found ourselves at the scene of the
tragedy, and, under my companion's guidance, we made our
way at once to Hudson Street. In spite of his capacity for
concealing his emotions, I could easily see that Holmes was
in a state of suppressed excitement, while I was myself tin-
gling with that half-sporting, half-intellectual pleasure which I
invariably experienced when I associated myself with him in
his investigations.
“ This is the street," said he, as we turned into a short
thoroughfare lined with plain two-storied brick houses. “Ah,
here is Simpson to report."
“He's in all right, Mr. Holmes," cried a small street Arab,
running up to us.
“Good, Simpson !" said Holmes, patting him on the head.
Come along, Watson. This is the house." He sent in his
card with a message that he had come on important business,
and a moment later we were face to face with the man whom
we had come to see. In spite of the warm weather he was
crouching over a fire, and the little room was like an oven.
The man sat all twisted and huddled in his chair in a way
which gave an indescribable impression of deformity; but the
face which he turned towards us, though worn and swarthy,
must at some time have been remarkable for its beauty.
He looked suspiciously at us now out of yellow-shot, bilious
eyes, and, without speaking or rising, he waved towards two
chairs.


152
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“ Mr. Henry Wood, late of India, I believe," said Holmes,
affably. " I've come over this little matter of Colonel Bar.
clay's death."
“What should I know about that?”
“ That's what I want to ascertain. You know, I suppose,
that unless the matter is cleared up, Mrs. Barclay, who is an
old friend of yours, will in all probability be tried for murder.”
The man gave a violent start.
“I don't know who you are,” he cried, “ nor how you come
to know what you do know, but will you swear that this is
true that you tell me?”
“Why, they are only waiting for her to come to her senses
to arrest her.”
“My God! Are you in the police yourself ?”
“ No.”
“What business is it of yours, then ?"
“It's every man's business to see justice done."
“ You can take my word that she is innocent."
“Then you are guilty.”
“No, I am not."
“Who killed Colonel James Barclay, then?”
"It was a just providence that killed him. But, mind you
this, that if I had knocked his brains out, as it was in my
heart to do, he would have had no more than his due from
If his own guilty conscience had not struck him
down it is likely enough that I might have had his blood
You want me to tell the story. Well, I don't
know why I shouldn't, for there's no cause for me to be
ashamed of it.
“It was in this way, sir. You see me now with my
back
like a camel and my ribs all awry, but there was a time when
Corporal Henry Wood was the smartest man in the 117th
foot. We were in India then, in cantonments, at a place
we'll call Bhurtee. Barclay, who died the other day, was ser-
geant in the same company as myself, and the belle of the
regiment, ay, and the finest girl that ever had the breath of
my hands.
upon my soul.


THE CROOKED MAN
153
life between her lips, was Nancy Devoy, the daughter of the
color-sergeant. There were two men that loved her, and one
that she loved, and you'll smile when you look at this poor
thing huddled before the fire, and hear me say that it was for
my good looks that she loved me.
“Well, though I had her heart, her father was set upon her
marrying Barclay. I was a harum-scarum, reckless lad, and
he had had an education, and was already marked for the
sword-belt. But the girl held true to me, and it seemed that
I would have had her when the Mutiny broke out, and all hell
was loose in the country.
“We were shut up in Bhurtee, the regiment of us with half
a battery of artillery, a company of Sikhs, and a lot of civil-
ians and women-folk. There were ten thousand rebels round
us, and they were as keen as a set of terriers round a rat-
cage. About the second week of it our water gave out, and
it was a question whether we could communicate with Gen-
eral Neill's column, which was moving up country. It was
our only chance, for we could not hope to fight our way out
with all the women and children, so I volunteered to go out
and to warn General Neill of our danger. My offer was ac-
cepted, and I talked it over with Sergeant Barclay, who was
supposed to know the ground better than any other man, and
who drew up a route by which I might get through the rebel
lines. At ten o'clock the same night I started off upon my
journey. There were a thousand lives to save, but it was of
only one that I was thinking when I dropped over the wall
that night.
“My way ran down a dried-up watercourse, which we hoped
would screen me from the enemy's sentries; but as I crept
round the corner of it I walked right into six of them, who
were crouching down in the dark waiting for me. In an in-
stant I was stunned with a blow and bound hand and foot.
But the real blow was to my heart and not to my head, for as
I came to and listened to as much as I could understand of
their talk, I heard enough to tell me that my comrade, the
L


154
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
very man who had arranged the way that I was to take, had
betrayed me by means of a native servant into the hands of
the enemy
Well, there's no need for me to dwell on that part of it.
You know now what James Barclay was capable of. Bhurtee
was relieved by Neill next day, but the rebels took me away
with them in their retreat, and it was many a long year before
ever I saw a white face again. I was tortured and tried to
get away, and was captured and tortured again. You can see
for yourselves the state in which I was left. Some of them
that fled into Nepaul took me with them, and then afterwards
I was up past Darjeeling. The hill-folk up there murdered
the rebels who had me, and I became their slave for a time
until I escaped; but instead of going south I had to go north,
until I found myself among the Afghans. There I wandered
about for many a year, and at last came back to the Punjaub,
where I lived mostly among the natives and picked up a liv-
ing by the conjuring tricks that I had learned. What use
was it for me, a wretched cripple, to go back to England or to
make myself known to my old comrades? Even my wish for
revenge would not make me do that. I had rather that Nancy
and my old pals should think of Harry Wood as having died
with a straight back, than see him living and crawling with a
stick like a chimpanzee. They never doubted that I was
dead, and I meant that they never should. I heard that Bar.
clay had married Nancy, and that he was rising rapidly in the
regiment, but even that did not make me speak.
“But when one gets old one has a longing for home. For
years I've been dreaming of the bright green fields and the
hedges of England. At last I determined to see them before
I died. I saved enough to bring me across, and then I came
here where the soldiers are, for I know their ways and how
to amuse them and so earn enough to keep me."
“Your narrative is most interesting," said Sherlock Holmes.
“I have already heard of your meeting with Mrs. Barclay, and
your mutual recognition. You then, as I understand, fol-


156
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
against a dead man, foully as he has acted. You have at
least the satisfaction of knowing that for thirty years of his
life his conscience bitterly reproached him for this wicked
deed. Ah, there goes Major Murphy on the other side of the
street. Good-by, Wood. I want to learn if anything has
happened since yesterday.”
We were in time to overtake the major before he reached
the corner.
“Ah, Holmes,” he said ; “I suppose you have heard that
all this fuss has come to nothing ?”
• What then?”
“ The inquest is just over. The medical evidence showed
conclusively that death was due to apoplexy. You see it was
quite a simple case after all."
“Oh, remarkably superficial,” said Holmes, smiling. “Come,
Watson, I don't think we shall be wanted in Aldershot any
more.”
“ There's one thing,” said I, as we walked down to the sta-
tion. “If the husband's name was James, and the other was
Henry, what was this talk about David ?”
“That one word, my dear Watson, should have told me the
whole story had been the ideal reasoner which you are so
fond of depicting. It was evidently a term of reproach.”
“Of reproach ?”
“Yes; David strayed a little occasionally, you know, and on
one occasion in the same direction as Sergeant James Barclay.
You remember the small affair of Uriah and Bathsheba? My
biblical knowledge is a trifle rusty, I fear, but you will find
the story in the first or second of Samuel.”


Adventure xx
•
THE RESIDENT PATIENT
RON glancing over the somewhat incoherent series of
Memoirs with which I have endeavored to illus-
trate a few of the mental peculiarities of my
friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I have been struck
by the difficulty which I have experienced in
picking out examples which shall in every way answer' my
purpose. For in those cases in which Holmes has performed
some tour de force of analytical reasoning, and has demon.
strated the value of his peculiar methods of investigation, the
facts themselves have often been so slight or so commonplace
that I could not feel justified in laying them before the pub-
lic. On the other hand, it has frequently happened that he
has been concerned in some research where the facts have
been of the most remarkable and dramatic character, but
where the share which he has himself taken in determining
their causes has been less pronounced than I, as his biogra-
pher, could wish. The small matter which I have chronicled
under the heading of “A Study in Scarlet," and that other
later one connected with the loss of the Gloria. Scott, may
serve as examples of this Scylla and Charybdis which are for-
ever threatening the historian. It may be that in the busi-
ness of which I am now about to write the part which my
friend played is not sufficiently accentuated; and yet the whole
train of circumstances is so remarkable that I cannot bring
myself to omit it entirely from this series.
It had been a close, rainy day in October. Our blinds
were half-drawn, and Holmes lay curled upon the sofa, read-
ing and re-reading a letter which he had received by the


158
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
morning post. For myself, my term of service in India had
trained me to stand heat better than cold, and a thermometer
of 90 was no hardship. But the paper was uninteresting.
Parliament had risen. Everybody was out of town, and I
yearned for the glades of the New Forest or the shingle of
Southsea. A depleted bank account had caused me to post-
pone my holiday, and as to my companion, neither the country
nor the sea presented the slightest attraction to him. He
loved to lie in the very centre of five millions of people, with
his filaments stretching out and running through them, re-
sponsive to every little rumor or suspicion of unsolved crime.
Appreciation of Nature found no place among his many gifts,
,
and his only change was when he turned his mind from the
evil-doer of the town to track down his brother of the country.
Finding that Holmes was too absorbed for conversation, I
had tossed aside the barren paper, and leaning back in my
chair, I fell into a brown study. Suddenly my companion's
voice broke in upon my thoughts.
“You are right, Watson,” said he. “It does seem a very
preposterous way of settling a dispute."
“Most preposterous !” I exclaimed, and then, suddenly real-
izing how he had echoed the inmost thought of my soul, I sat
up in
my
chair and stared at him in blank amazement.
“What is this, Holmes ?” I cried. “This is beyond any-
thing which I could have imagined.”
He laughed heartily at my perplexity.
“You remember,” said he, “that some little time ago,
when
I read
you
the
passage in one of Poe's sketches, in which a
close reasoner follows the unspoken thoughts of his companion,
you were inclined to treat the matter as a mere tour-de-force of
the author. On my remarking that I was constantly in the
habit of doing the same thing you expressed incredulity."
“Oh, no!"
Perhaps not with your tongue, my dear Watson, but cer-
tainly with your eyebrows. So when I saw you throw down
your paper and enter upon a train of thought, I was very
happy to have the opportunity of reading it off, and eventually


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
161
state of the various medical instruments in the wicker basket
which hung in the lamplight inside the brougham had given
him the data for his swift deduction. The light in our window
above showed that this late visit was indeed intended for us.
With some curiosity as to what could have sent a brother medi-
co to us at such an hour, I followed Holmes into our sanctum.
A pale, taper-faced man with sandy whiskers rose up from
a chair by the fire as we entered. His age may not have been
more than three or four and thirty, but his haggard expression
and unhealthy hue told of a life which had sapped his strength
and robbed him of his youth. His manner was nervous and
shy, like that of a sensitive gentleman, and the thin white
hand which he laid on the mantelpiece as he rose was that
of an artist rather than of a surgeon. His dress was quiet
and sombre-a black frock-coat, dark trousers, and a touch of
color about his necktie.
“Good-evening, doctor," said Holmes, cheerily. “I am glad
to see that you have only been waiting a very few minutes."
“You spoke to my coachman, then?”
“No, it was the candle on the side-table that told me. Pray
resume your seat and let me know how I can serve you.”
"My name is Doctor Percy Trevelyan," said our visitor,
" and I live at 403 Brook Street."
“ Are you not the author of a monograph upon obscure
nervous lesions ?” I asked.
His pale cheeks flushed with pleasure at hearing that his
work was known to me.
“I so seldom hear of the work that I thought it was quite
dead," said he. "My publishers gave me a most discourag-
ing account of its sale. You are yourself, I presume, a med-
ical man?"
“A retired army surgeon."
“My own hobby has always been nervous disease. I should
wish to make an absolute specialty, but, of course, a man
must take what he can get at first. This, however, is beside
the question, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, and I quite appreciate


162
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“ You are very
how valuable your time is. The fact is that a very singular
train of events has occurred recently at my house in Brook
Street, and to-night they came to such a head that I felt it
was quite impossible for me to wait another hour before ask-
ing for your advice and assistance."
Sherlock Holmes sat down and lit his pipe.
welcome to both,” said he. “Pray let me have a detailed ac-
count of what the circumstances are which have disturbed
you.”
“One or two of them are so trivial," said Dr. Trevelyan,
“ that really I am almost ashamed to mention them. But the
matter is so inexplicable, and the recent turn which it has
taken is so elaborate, that I shall lay it all before you, and
you shall judge what is essential and what is not.
"I am compelled, to begin with, to say something of my
own college career. I am a London University man, you
know, and I am sure that you will not think that I am unduly
singing my own praises if I say that my student career was
considered by my professors to be a very promising one.
After I had graduated I continued to devote myself to re-
search, occupying a minor position in King's College Hos-
pital, and I was fortunate enough to excite considerable in-
terest by my research into the pathology of catalepsy, and
finally to win the Bruce Pinkerton prize and medal by the
monograph on nervous lesions to which your friend has just
alluded. I should not go too far if I were to say that there
was a general impression at that time that a distinguished
career lay before me.
“But the one great stumbling-block lay in my want of capi.
tal. As you will readily understand, a specialist who aims
high is compelled to start in one of a dozen streets in the
Cavendish Square quarter, all of which entail enormous rents
and furnishing expenses. Besides this preliminary outlay, he
must be prepared to keep himself for some years, and to hire
a presentable carriage and horse. To do this was quite be
yond my power, and I could only hope that by economy I
might in ten years' time save enough to enable me to put up


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
163
my plate. Suddenly, however, an unexpected incident opened
up quite a new prospect to me.
“This was a visit from a gentleman of the name of Blessing-
ton, who was a complete stranger to me. He came up into my
room one morning, and plunged into business in an instant.
"You are the same Percy Trevelyan who has had so dis-
tinguished a career and won a great prize lately?' said he.
« I bowed.
"Answer me frankly,' he continued, 'for you will find it to
your interest to do so. You have all the cleverness which
makes a successful man. Have
you
the tact?'
"I could not help smiling at the abruptness of the question.
“ ' I trust that I have my share,' I said.
“Any bad habits? Not drawn towards drink, eh?'
“Really, sir!' I cried.
“Quite right! That's all right! But I was bound to ask.
With all these qualities, why are you not in practice?'
“I shrugged my shoulders.
"Come, come !' said he, in his bustling way. 'It's the old
story. More in your brains than in your pocket, eh? What
would
you say if I were to start you in Brook Street?'
“I stared at him in astonishment.
"Oh, it's for my sake, not for yours,' he cried. "I'll be
perfectly frank with you, and if it suits you it will suit me
very well. I have a few thousands to invest, d'ye see, and I
think I'll sink them in you.'
But why ?' I gasped.
"Well, it's just like any other speculation, and safer than
most.'
“What am I to do, then ?'
“I'll tell you. I'll take the house, furnish it, pay the
maids, and run the whole place. All you have to do is just
to wear out your chair in the consulting -room. I'll let you
have pocket-money and everything. Then you hand over to
me three quarters of what you earn, and you keep the other
quarter for yourself.'
“This was the strange proposal, Mr. Holmes, with which


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
165
his former habits, when a fresh event reduced him to the
pitiable state of prostration in which he now lies.
“What happened was this. Two days ago I received the
letter which I now read to you. Neither address nor date is
attached to it.
66A Russian nobleman who is now resident in England,'
it
runs, would be glad to avail himself of the professional
assistance of Dr. Percy Trevelyan. He has been for some
years a victim to cataleptic attacks, on which, as is well
known, Dr. Trevelyan is an authority. He proposes to call
at about a quarter past six to-morrow evening, if Dr. Trevelyan
will make it convenient to be at home.'
“This letter interested me deeply, because the chief diffi-
culty in the study of catalepsy is the rareness of the disease.
You may believe, then, that I was in my consulting-room
when, at the appointed hour, the page showed in the patient.
“He was an elderly man, thin, demure, and commonplace-
by no means the conception one forms of a Russian nobleman.
I was much more struck by the appearance of his companion.
This was a tall young man, surprisingly handsome, with a
dark, fierce face, and the limbs and chest of a Hercules. He
had his hand under the other's arm as they entered, and
helped him to a chair with a tenderness which one would
bardly have expected from his appearance.
“You will excuse my coming in, doctor,' said he to me,
speaking English with a slight lisp. 'This is my father, and
his health is a matter of the most overwhelming importance
to me.'
“I was touched by this filial anxiety. “You would, per-
haps, care to remain during the consultation said I.
“Not for the world,' he cried, with a gesture of horror.
• It is more painful to me than I can express.
If I were to
see my father in one of these dreadful seizures I am convinced
that I should never survive it. My own nervous system is an
exceptionally sensitive one. With your permission, I will re,
main in the waiting-room while you go into my father's case.'


166
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“To this, of course, I assented, and the young man with-
drew. The patient and I then plunged into a discussion of
his case, of which I took exhaustive notes. He was not re-
markable for intelligence, and his answers were frequently
obscure, which I attributed to his limited acquaintance with
our language. Suddenly, however, as I sat writing, he ceased
to give any answer at all to my inquiries, and on my turning
towards him I was shocked to see that he was sitting bolt up-
right in his chair, staring at me with a perfectly blank and rigid
face. He was again in the grip of his mysterious malady.
“My first feeling, as I have just said, was one of pity and
horror. My second, I fear, was rather one of professional
satisfaction. I made notes of my patient's pulse and tem-
perature, tested the rigidity of his muscles, and examined his
reflexes. There was nothing markedly abnormal in any of
these conditions, which harmonized with my former experi-
I had obtained good results in such cases by the
inhalation of nitrite of amyl, and the present seemed an admi-
rable opportunity of testing its virtues. The bottle was down-
stairs in my laboratory, so leaving my patient seated in his
chair, I ran down to get it. There was some little delay in
finding it - five minutes, let us say- and then I returned.
Imagine my amazement to find the room empty and the pa-
ences.
tient gone.
“Of course, my first act was to run into the waiting-room.
The son had gone also. The hall door had been closed, but
not shut. My page who admits patients is a new boy and
by no means quick. He waits downstairs, and runs up to
show patients out when I ring the consulting-room bell. He
had heard nothing, and the affair remained a complete mys-
tery. Mr. Blessington came in from his walk shortly after-
wards, but I did not say anything to him upon the subject,
for, to tell the truth, I have got in the way of late of holding
as little communication with him as possible.
“Well, I never thought that I should see anything more of
the Russian and his son, so you can imagine my amazement


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
167
when, at the very same hour this evening, they both came
marching into my consulting-room, just as they had done
before.
" " I feel that I owe you a great many apologies for my ab-
rupt departure yesterday, doctor,' said my patient.
“I confess that I was very much surprised at it,' said I.
"Well, the fact is,' he remarked, 'that when I recover
from these attacks my mind is always very clouded as to all
that has gone before. I woke up in a strange room, as it
seemed to me, and made my way out into the street in a sort
of dazed way when you were absent.'
“And I,' said the son, 'seeing my father pass the door
of the waiting-room, naturally thought that the consultation
had come to an end. It was not until we had reached home
that I began to realize the true state of affairs.'
“Well,' said I, laughing, there is no harm done except
that you puzzled me terribly; so if you, sir, would kindly step
into the waiting-room I shall be happy to continue our con-
sultation which was brought to so abrupt an ending.'
"For half an hour or so I discussed the old gentleman's
symptoms with him, and then, having prescribed for him, I
go
off
upon
the arm of his son.
“I have told you that Mr. Blessington generally chose
this hour of the day for his exercise. He came in shortly
afterwards and passed upstairs. An instant later I heard
him running down, and he burst into my consulting-room
like a man who is mad with panic.
6.Who has been in my room?' he cried.
"No one,' said I.
“It's a lie l'he yelled. "Come up and look !'
“I passed over the grossness of his language, as he seemed
half out of his mind with fear. When I went upstairs with
him he pointed to several footprints upon the light carpet.
“D' you mean to say those are mine?' he cried.
“They were certainly very much larger than any which he
could have made, and were evidently quite fresh. It rained
saw him


170
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
I would never trust a banker, Mr. Holmes. Between our
selves, what little I have is in that box, so you can under-
stand what it means to me when unknown people force them-
selves into my rooms."
Holmes looked at Blessington in his questioning way and
shook his head.
“I cannot possibly advise
you
if
you try to deceive me,”
said he.
“But I have told you everything."
Holmes turned on his heel with a gesture of disgust.
“Good-night, Dr. Trevelyan,” said he.
“And no advice for me?” cried Blessington, in a breaking
voice.
“My advice to you, sir, is to speak the truth."
A minute later we were in the street and walking for home.
We had crossed Oxford Street and were half way down Har-
ley Street before I could get a word from my companion.
“Sorry to bring you out on such a fool's errand, Watson,"
he said at last. “It is an interesting case, too, at the bot-
tom of it."
“I can make little of it," I confessed.
“Well, it is quite evident that there are two men-more,
perhaps, but at least two-who are determined for some rea-
son to get at this fellow Blessington. I have no doubt in my
mind that both on the first and on the second occasion that
young man penetrated to Blessington's room, while his con-
federate, by an ingenious device, kept the doctor from inter-
fering."
“And the catalepsy?"
“A fraudulent imitation, Watson, though I should hardly
dare to hint as much to our specialist. It is a very easy
complaint to imitate. I have done it myself."
“ And then ?”
"By the purest chance Blessington was out on each occa-
sion. Their reason for choosing so unusual an hour for a
consultation was obviously to insure that there should be no


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
171
other patient in the waiting-room. It just happened, how-
ever, that this hour coincided with Blessington's constitu-
tional, which seems to show that they were not very well ac-
quainted with his daily routine. Of course, if they had been
merely after plunder they would at least have made some
attempt to search for it. Besides, I can read in a man's eye
when it is his own skin that he is frightened for. It is incon-
ceivable that this fellow could have made two such vindictive
enemies as these appear to be without knowing of it. I hold
it, therefore, to be certain that he does know who these men
are, and that for reasons of his own he suppresses it. It is
just possible that to-morrow may find him in a more commu-
nicative mood.”
“Is there not one alternative," I suggested, "grotesquely
improbable, no doubt, but still just conceivable? Might
the whole story of the cataleptic Russian and his son be a
concoction of Dr. Trevelyan's, who has, for his own purposes,
been in Blessington's rooms?"
I saw in the gaslight that Holmes wore an amused smile at
this brilliant departure of mine,
"My dear fellow," said he, “it was one of the first solu-
tions which occurred to me, but I was soon able to corrobo-
rate the doctor's tale. This young man has left prints upon
the stair-carpet which made it quite superfluous for me to ask
to see those which he had made in the room. When I tell
you that his shoes were square-toed instead of being pointed
like Blessington's, and were quite an inch and a third longer
than the doctor's, you will acknowledge that there can be no
doubt as to his individuality. But we may sleep on it now,
for I shall be surprised if we do not hear something further
from Brook Street in the morning."
Sherlock Holmes's prophecy was soon fulfilled, and in a
dramatic fashion. At half-past seven next morning, in the
first dim glimmer of daylight, I found him standing by my
bedside in his dressing-gown.


172
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“There's a brougham waiting for us, Watson,” said he.
“What's the matter, then ?”
“ The Brook Street business."
“ Any fresh news ?”
“Tragic, but ambiguous," said he, pulling up the blind.
“Look at this—a sheet from a note-book, with ‘For God's
sake come at once-P. T.,' scrawled upon it in pencil. Our
friend, the doctor, was hard put to it when he wrote this.
Come along, my dear fellow, for it's an urgent call.”
In a quarter of an hour or so we were back at the physi-
cian's house. He came running out to meet us with a face
of horror.
“Oh, such a business !” he cried, with his hands to his
temples.
" What then ?”
Blessington has committed suicide !"
Holmes whistled.
“Yes, he hanged himself during the night.”
We had entered, and the doctor had preceded us into what
was evidently his waiting-room.
“I really hardly know what I am doing,” he cried. “The
police are already upstairs. It has shaken me most dread-
fully.”
“When did you find it out?”
“He has a cup of tea taken in to him early every morning.
When the maid entered, about seven, there the unfortunate
fellow was hanging in the middle of the room. He had tied
his cord to the hook on which the heavy lamp used to hang,
and he had jumped off from the top of the very box that he
showed us yesterday.”
Holmes stood for a moment in deep thought.
“With your permission," said he at last, "I should like to
go upstairs and look into the matter."
We both ascended, followed by the doctor.
It was a dreadful sight which met us as we entered the
bedroom door. I have spoken of the impression of flabbi-


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
173
ness which this man Blessington conveyed. As he dangled
from the hook it was exaggerated and intensified until he was
scarce human in his appearance. The neck was drawn out
like a plucked chicken’s, making the rest of him seem the more
obese and unnatural by the contrast. He was clad only in
his long night-dress, and his swollen ankles and ungainly feet
protruded starkly from beneath it. Beside him stood a smart-
looking police-inspector, who was taking notes in a pocket-
book.
"Ah, Mr. Holmes," said he, heartily, as my friend entered,
“I am delighted to see you.”
“Good-morning, Lanner,” answered Holmes ; "you won't
think me an intruder, I am sure. Have you heard of the
events which led up to this affair ?”
“ Yes, I heard something of them.”
“ Have you formed any opinion?"
As far as I can see, the man has been driven out of his
senses by fright. The bed has been well slept in, you see.
There's his impression, deep enough. It's about five in the
morning, you know, that suicides are most common. That
would be about his time for hanging himself. It seems to
have been a very deliberate affair.”
“I should say that he has been dead about three hours,
judging by the rigidity of the muscles," said I.
“Noticed anything peculiar about the room?" asked
Holmes.
“ Found a screw-driver and some screws on the wash-hand
stand. Seems to have smoked heavily during the night, too.
Here are four cigar-ends that I picked out of the fireplace.”
“Hum !” said Holmes, “have you got his cigar-holder ?"
“No, I have seen none.
“His cigar-case, then?”
“ Yes, it was in his coat-pocket."
Holmes opened it and smelled the single cigar which it
contained.
“Oh, this is an Havana, and these others are cigars of the


174
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
peculiar sort which are imported by the Dutch from their
East Indian colonies. They are usually wrapped in straw,
you know, and are thinner for their length than any other
brand.” He picked up the four ends and examined them
with his pocket-lens.
“ Two of these have been smoked from a holder and two
without,” said he. “Two have been cut by a not very sharp
knife, and two have had the ends bitten off by a set of ex-
cellent teeth. This is no suicide, Mr. Lanner. It is a very
deeply planned and cold-blooded murder."
“Impossible !" cried the inspector.
“And why?"
Why should any one murder a man in so clumsy a
fashion as by hanging him ?”
6. That is what we have to find out."
“How could they get in ?"
Through the front door."
" It was barred in the morning."
“ Then it was barred after them."
“How do you know?"
“I saw their traces. Excuse me a moment, and I may
be
able to give you
me further information about it."
He went over to the door, and turning the lock he ex-
amined it in his methodical way. Then he took out the
key, which was on the inside, and inspected that also. The
bed, the carpet, the chairs, the mantelpiece, the dead body,
and the rope were each in turn examined, until at last he
professed himself satisfied, and with my aid and that of the
inspector cut down the wretched object and laid it rever-
ently under a sheet.
“How about this rope ?” he asked.
“ It is cut off this,” said Dr. Trevelyan, drawing a large
coil from under the bed. “He was morbidly nervous of
fire, and always kept this beside him, so that he might es-
cape by the window in case the stairs were burning."
“ That must have saved them trouble," said Holmes,


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
175
thoughtfully. “Yes, the actual facts are very plain, and I
shall be surprised if by the afternoon I cannot give you the
reasons for them as well. I will take this photograph of
Blessington, which I see upon the mantelpiece, as it may
help me in my inquiries."
“But you have told us nothing !" cried the doctor.
“Oh, there can be no doubt as to the sequence of events,”
said Holmes. “ There were three of them in it: the young
man, the old man, and a third, to whose identity I have no
clue. The first two, I need hardly remark, are the same who
masqueraded as the Russian count and his son, so we can
give a very full description of them. They were admitted
by a confederate inside the house. If I might offer you a
word of advice, Inspector, it would be to arrest the page,
who, as I understand, has only recently come into your ser-
vice, Doctor.”
“The young imp cannot be found,” said Dr. Trevelyan ;
“ the maid and the cook have just been searching for him.”
Holmes shrugged his shoulders.
“He has played a not unimportant part in this drama,"
said he. “The three men having ascended the stairs, which
they did on tiptoe, the elder man first, the younger man sec-
ond, and the unknown man in the rear-"
“My dear Holmes !" I ejaculated.
“Oh, there could be no question as to the superimposing
of the footmarks. I had the advantage of learning which
was which last night. They ascended, then, to Mr. Blessing-
ton's room, the door of which they found to be locked. With
the help of a wire, however, they forced round the key. Even
without the lens you will perceive, by the scratches on this
ward, where the pressure was applied.
“On entering the room their first proceeding must have
been to gag Mr. Blessington. He may have been asleep,
or he may have been so paralyzed with terror as to have been
unable to cry out. These walls are thick, and it is conceiva-
ble that his shriek, if he had time to utter one, was unheard.


176
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
" Having secured him, it is evident to me that a consulta-
tion of some sort was held. Probably it was something in
the nature of a judicial proceeding. It must have lasted for
some time, for it was then that these cigars were smoked.
The older man sat in that wicker chair; it was he who used
the cigar-holder. The younger man sat over yonder; he
knocked his ash off against the chest of drawers. The third
fellow paced up and down. Blessington, I think, sat upright
in the bed, but of that I cannot be absolutely certain.
“Well, it ended by their taking Blessington and hanging
him. The matter was so prearranged that it is my belief
that they brought with them some sort of block or pulley
which might serve as a gallows. That screw-driver and those
screws were, as I conceive, for fixing it up. Seeing the
hook, however, they naturally saved themselves the trouble.
Having finished their work they made off, and the door was
barred behind them by their confederate."
We had all listened with the deepest interest to this sketch
of the night's doings, which Holmes had deduced from signs
so subtle and minute that, even when he had pointed them
out to us, we could scarcely follow him in his reasonings.
The inspector hurried away on the instant to make inquiries
about the page, while Holmes and I returned to Baker Street
for breakfast.
“I'll be back by three," said he, when we had finished our
meal. “Both the inspector and the doctor will meet me
here at that hour, and I hope by that time to have cleared
up any little obscurity which the case may still present."
Our visitors arrived at the appointed time, but it was a
quarter to four before my friend put in an appearance. From
his expression as he entered, however, I could see that all
had gone well with him.
“Any news, Inspector ?"
“We have got the boy, sir."
• Excellent, and I have got the men.”


THE RESIDENT PATIENT
177
“You have got them!” we cried, all three.
“Well, at least I have got their identity. This so-called
Blessington is, as I expected, well known at headquarters,
and so are his assailants. Their names are Biddle, Hayward,
and Moffat
“The Worthingdon bank gang," cried the inspector.
“Precisely," said Holmes.
“Then Blessington must have been Sutton.”
Exactly,” said Holmes.
“Why, that makes it as clear as crystal,” said the in-
spector.
But Trevelyan and I looked at each other in bewilderment.
“You must surely remember the great Worthingdon bank
business,” said Holmes. “Five men were in it-these four
and a fifth called Cartwright. Tobin, the care-taker, was mur-
dered, and the thieves got away with seven thousand pounds.
This was in 1875. They were all five arrested, but the evi-
dence against them was by no means conclusive. This Bless-
ington or Sutton, who was the worst of the gang, turned
informer. On his evidence Cartwright was hanged and the
other three got fifteen years apiece. When they got out the
other day, which was some years before their full term, they
set themselves, as you perceive, to hunt down the traitor and
to avenge the death of their comrade upon him. Twice they
tried to get at him and failed; a third time, you see, it came
off. Is there anything further which I can explain, Dr. Tre-
velyan?"
“I think you have made it all remarkably clear," said
the doctor. “No doubt the day on which he was so per-
turbed was the day when he had seen of their release in
the newspapers."
“Quite so. His talk about a burglary was the merest
blind.”
“But why could he not tell you this ?”
"Well, my dear sir, knowing the vindictive character of
his old associates, he was trying to hide his own identity from


178
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
everybody as long as he could. His secret was a shameful
one, and he could not bring himself to divulge it. However,
wretch as he was, he was still living under the shield of
British law, and I have no doubt, Inspector, that you will
see that, though that shield may fail to guard, the sword of
justice is still there to avenge."
Such were the singular circumstances in connection with
the Resident Patient and the Brook Street Doctor. From
that night nothing has been seen of the three murderers by
the police, and it is surmised at Scotland Yard that they were
among the passengers of the ill-fated steamer Norah Creina,
which was lost some years ago with all hands upon the Por-
tuguese coast, some leagues to the north of Oporto. The
proceedings against the page broke down for want of evi-
dence, and the Brook Street Mystery, as it was called, has
never until now been fully dealt with in any public print.


180
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
cestors were country squires, who appear to have led much
the same life as is natural to their class. But, none the less,
my turn that way is in my veins, and may have come with
my grandmother, who was the sister of Vernet, the French
artist. Art in the blood is liable to take the strangest forms."
“But how do you know that it is hereditary?”
“Because my brother Mycroft possesses it in a larger de
gree than I do."
This was news to me indeed. If there were another man
with such singular powers in England, how was it that nei-
ther police nor public had heard of him? I put the ques-
tion, with a hint that it was my companion's modesty which
made him acknowledge his brother as his superior. Holmes
laughed at my suggestion.
“My dear Watson,” said he, “I cannot agree with those
who rank modesty among the virtues. To the logician all
things should be seen exactly as they are, and to underesti-
mate one's self is as much a departure from truth as to exag-
gerate one's own powers. When I say, therefore, that My-
croft has better powers of observation than I, you may take
it that I am speaking the exact and literal truth.”
"Is he your junior ?"
“ Seven years my senior.”
“How comes it that he is unknown ?"
“Oh, he is very well known in his own circle."
Where, then ?”
"Well, in the Diogenes Club, for example.”
I had never heard of the institution, and my face must have
proclaimed as much, for Sherlock Holmes pulled out his watch.
“The Diogenes Club is the queerest club in London, and
Mycroft one of the queerest men. He's always there from
quarter to five to twenty to eight. It's six
you care
for a stroll this beautiful evening I shall be very happy to in.
troduce you to two curiosities."
Five minutes later we were in the street, walking towards
Regent's Circus.
now, so if


THE GREEK INTERPRETER
181
And yet
“You wonder," said my companion, “why it is that My-
croft does not use his powers for detective work. He is
incapable of it."
“But I thought you said—”
“I said that he was my superior in observation and deduc-
tion. If the art of the detective began and ended in reason-
ing from an arm-chair, my brother would be the greatest crim-
inal agent that ever lived. But he has no ambition and no
energy. He will not even go out of his way to verify his own
solutions, and would rather be considered wrong than take
the trouble to prove himself right. Again and again I have
taken a problem to him, and have received an explanation
which has afterwards proved to be the correct one.
he was absolutely incapable of working out the practical
points which must be gone into before a case could be laid
before a judge or jury."
“It is not his profession, then ?"
“ By no means. What is to me a means of livelihood is to
him the merest hobby of a dilettante. He has an extraordi-
nary faculty for figures, and audits the books in some of the
government departments. Mycroft lodges in Pall Mall, and
he walks round the corner into Whitehall every morning and
back every evening. From year's end to year's end he takes
no other exercise, and is seen nowhere else, except only in the
Diogenes Club, which is just opposite his rooms.”
“I cannot recall the name."
“Very likely not. There are many men in London, you
know, who, some from shyness, some from misanthropy, have
no wish for the company of their fellows. Yet they are not
averse to comfortable chairs and the latest periodicals. It
is for the convenience of these that the Diogenes Club was
started, and it now contains the most unsociable and unclub-
able men in town. No member is permitted to take the least
notice of any other one. Save in the Stranger's Room, no talk-
ing is, under any circumstances, allowed, and three offences,
if brought to the notice of the committee, render the talker


182
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
liable to expulsion. My brother was one of the founders, and
I have myself found it a very soothing atmosphere."
We had reached Pall Mall as we talked, and were walking
down it from the St. James's end. Sherlock Holmes stopped
at a door some little distance from the Carlton, and, caution-
ing me not to speak, he led the way into the hall. Through
the glass panelling I caught a glimpse of a large and luxuri-
ous room, in which a considerable number of men were sit-
ting about and reading papers, each in his own little nook.
Holmes showed me into a small chamber which looked out
into Pall Mall, and then, leaving me for a minute, he came
back with a companion whom I knew could only be his
brother.
Mycroft Holmes was a much larger and stouter man than
Sherlock. His body was absolutely corpulent, but his face,
though massive, had preserved something of the sharpness of
expression which was so remarkable in that of his brother.
His eyes, which were of a peculiarly light, watery gray, seemed
to always retain that far-away, introspective look which I had
only observed in Sherlock's when he was exerting his full
powers.
“I am glad to meet you, sir,” said he, putting out a broad,
fat hand like the flipper of a seal. 66 I hear of Sherlock
everywhere since you became his chronicler. By the way,
Sherlock, I expected to see you round last week, to consult
me over that Manor House case. I thought you might be a
little out of your depth."
“No, I solved it,” said my friend, smiling.
“It was Adams, of course."
“Yes, it was Adams.”
“I was sure of it from the first." The two sat down to-
gether in the bow-window of the club. “To any one who
wishes to study mankind this is the spot,” said Mycroft.
"Look at the magnificent types ! Look at these two men
who are coming towards us, for example."
“The billiard-marker and the other?"


THE GREEK INTERPRETER
183
“Precisely. What do you make of the other ?"
The two men had stopped opposite the window. Some
chalk marks over the waistcoat pocket were the only signs
of billiards which I could see in one of them. The other
was a very small, dark fellow, with his hat pushed back and
several packages under his arm.
“An old soldier, I perceive," said Sherlock.
“And very recently discharged,” remarked the brother.
“ Served in India, I see.”
“ And a non-commissioned officer."
“Royal Artillery, I fancy,” said Sherlock.
“ And a widower."
“ But with a child."
Children, my dear boy, children.”
Come,” said I, laughing, “this is a little too much."
“Surely," answered Holmes, “it is not hard to say that a
man with that bearing, expression of authority, and sunbaked
skin, is a soldier, is more than a private, and is not long
from India."
“That he has not left the service long is shown by his
still wearing his ammunition boots, as they are called," ob-
served Mycroft.
"He had not the cavalry stride, yet he wore his hat on
one side, as is shown by the lighter skin on that side of his
brow. His weight is against his being a sapper. He is in
the artillery."
“Then, of course, his complete mourning shows that he has
lost some one very dear. The fact that he is doing his own
shopping looks as though it were his wife. He has been
buying things for children, you perceive. There is a rattle,
which shows that one of them is very young. The wife
probably died in childbed. The fact that he has a picture-
book under his arm shows that there is another child to be
thought of."
I began to understand what my friend meant when he
said that his brother possessed even keener faculties than


THE GREEK INTERPRETER
185
then, it was Monday night – only two days ago, you under-
stand that all this happened. I am an interpreter, as per-
haps my neighbor there has told you. I interpret all lan-
guages or nearly all — but as I am a Greek hy birth and
with a Grecian name, it is with that particular tongue that I
am principally associated. For many years I have been the
chief Greek interpreter in London, and my name is very well
known in the hotels.
"It happens not unfrequently that I am sent for at strange
hours by foreigners who get into difficulties, or by travellers
who arrive late and wish my services. I was not surprised,
therefore, on Monday night when a Mr. Latimer, a very fash-
ionably dressed young man, came up to my rooms and asked
me to accompany him in a cab which was waiting at the
door. A Greek friend had come to see him upon business,
he said, and as he could speak nothing but his own tongue,
the services of an interpreter were indispensable. He gave
me to understand that his house was some little distance off,
in Kensington, and he seemed to be in a great hurry, bus-
tling me rapidly into the cab when we had descended to the
street.
“I say into the cab, but I soon became doubtful as to
whether it was not a carriage in which I found myself. It
was certainly more roomy than the ordinary four-wheeled
disgrace to London, and the fittings, though frayed, were of
rich quality. Mr. Latimer seated himself opposite to me and
we started off through Charing Cross and up the Shaftesbury
Avenue. We had come out upon Oxford Street and I had
ventured some remark as to this being a roundabout way to
Kensington, when my words were arrested by the extraordi-
nary conduct of my companion.
“He began by drawing a most formidable-looking blud-
geon loaded with lead from his pocket, and switching it
backward and forward several times, as if to test its weight
and strength. Then he placed it without a word upon the
seat beside him. Having done this, he drew up the windows
N


THE GREEK INTERPRETER
187
front. It was a quarter-past seven when we left Pall Mall,
and my watch showed me that it was ten minutes to nine
when we at last came to a standstill. My companion let
down the window, and I caught a glimpse of a low, arched
doorway with a lamp burning above it. As I was hurried
from the carriage it swung open, and I found myself inside
the house, with a vague impression of a lawn and trees on
each side of me as I entered. Whether these were private
grounds, however, or bona-fide country was more than I could
possibly venture to say.
“There was a colored gas-lamp inside which was turned
so low that I could see little save that the hall was of some
size and hung with pictures. In the dim light I could make
out that the person who had opened the door was a small,
mean-looking, middle-aged man with rounded shoulders. As
he turned towards us the glint of the light showed me that
he was wearing glasses.
66. Is this Mr. Melas, Harold ?' said he.
66. Yes.'
"Well done, well done! No ill will, Mr. Melas, I hope,
but we could not get on without you. If you deal fair with
us you'll not regret it, but if you try any tricks, God help
you!'. He spoke in a nervous, jerky fashion, and with little
giggling laughs in between, but somehow he impressed me
with fear more than the other.
“What do you want with me?' I asked.
“Only to ask a few questions of a Greek gentleman who
is visiting us, and to let us have the answers.
But say no
more than you are told to say, or~'here came the nervous
giggle again, you had better never have been born.'
“As he spoke he opened a door and showed the way into
a room which appeared to be very richly furnished, but again
the only light was afforded by a single lamp half-turned
down. The chamber was certainly large, and the way in
which my feet sank into the carpet as I stepped across it
told me of its richness. I caught glimpses of velvet chairs, a





THE GREEK INTERPRETER
189
that they showed no sign I played a more dangerous game.
Our conversation ran something like this:
“You can do no good by this obstinacy. Who are you ?”.
"I care not. I am a stranger in London.'
6. Your fate will be on your own head. How long have you
been here?
« Let it be so. Three weeks.'
". The property can never be yours.
What ails you?
“It shall not go to villains. They are starving me.'
6. You shall go free if you sign. What house is this ??
"! I will never sign. I do not know.'
«You are not doing her any service. What is your name?'
"Let me hear her say so. Kratides.'
««You shall see her if you sign. Where are you from ??
6. Then I shall never see her. Athens.'
“Another five minutes, Mr. Holmes, and I should have
wormed out the whole story under their very noses. My very
next question might have cleared the matter up, but at that
instant the door opened and a woman stepped into the room.
I could not see her clearly enough to know more than that
she was tall and graceful, with black hair, and clad in some
sort of loose white gown.
“• Harold,' said she, speaking English with a broken ac-
cert. 'I could not stay away longer. It is so lonely up there
with only— Oh, my God, it is Paul!'
“ These last words were in Greek, and at the same instant
the man with a convulsive effort tore the plaster from his lips,
and screaming out 'Sophy! Sophy!' rushed into the woman's
arms. Their embrace was but for an instant, however, for
the younger man seized the woman and pushed her out of the
room, while the elder easily overpowered his emaciated vic-
tim, and dragged him away through the other door. For a
moment I was left alone in the room, and I
sprang to my feet
with some vague idea that I might in some way get a clue to
what this house was in which I found myself. Fortunately,
however, I took no steps, for looking up I saw that the older


190
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
man was standing in the door-way, with his eyes fixed upon
me.
“That will do, Mr. Melas,' said he. “You perceive that we
have taken you into our confidence over some very private
business. We should not have troubled you, only that our
friend who speaks Greek and who began these negotiations
has been forced to return to the East. It was quite necessary
for us to find some one to take his place, and we were fort-
unate in hearing of your powers.'
“I bowed.
“There are five sovereigns here,' said he, walking up to
me, which will, I hope, be a sufficient fee. But remember,'
he added, tapping me lightly on the chest and giggling, if
you speak to a human soul about this one human soul,
mind-well, may God have mercy upon your soul !'
“I cannot tell you the loathing and horror with which
this insignificant-looking man inspired me. I could see him
better now as the lamp-light shone upon him. His features
were peaky and sallow, and his little pointed beard was
thready and ill-nourished. He pushed his face forward as he
spoke and his lips and eyelids were continually twitching like
a man with St. Vitus's dance. I could not help thinking that
his strange, catchy little laugh was also a symptom of some
nervous malady. The terror of his face lay in his eyes, how-
ever, steel gray, and glistening coldly with a malignant, inex-
orable cruelty in their depths.
"We shall know if you speak of this,' said he. We have
our own means of information. Now you will find the car-
riage waiting, and my friend will see you on your way.'
“I was hurried through the hall and into the vehicle, again
obtaining that momentary glimpse of trees and a garden.
Mr. Latimer followed closely at my heels, and took his place
opposite to me without a word. In silence we again drove
for an interminable distance with the windows raised, until at
last, just after midnight, the carriage pulled up.
“ “You will get down here, Mr. Melas,' said my companion.


THE GREEK INTERPRETER
191
'I am sorry to leave you so far from your house, but there is
no alternative. Any attempt upon your part to follow the car-
riage can only end in injury to yourself.'
“He opened the door as he spoke, and I had hardly time
to spring out when the coachman lashed the horse and the
carriage rattled away. I looked around me in astonishment.
I was on some sort of a heathy common mottled over with
dark clumps of furze-bushes. Far away stretched a line of
houses, with a light here and there in the upper windows. On
the other side I saw the red signal-lamps of a railway.
"The carriage which had brought me was already out of
sight. I stood gazing round and wondering where on earth
I might be, when I saw some one coming towards me in the
darkness. As he came up to me I made out that he was a
railway porter.
"Can you tell me what place this is ?' I asked.
“Wandsworth Common,' said he.
“Can I get a train into town?'
“If you walk on a mile or so to Clapham Junction,' said
he, 'you'll just be in time for the last to Victoria.'
“So that was the end of my adventure, Mr. Holmes. I do
not know where I was, nor whom I spoke with, nor anything
save what I have told you. But I know that there is foul
play going on, and I want to help that unhappy man if I can.
I told the whole story to Mr. Mycroft Holmes next morning,
and subsequently to the police."
We all sat in silence for some little time after listening to
this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock looked across
at his brother.
“Any steps ?” he asked.
Mycroft picked up the Daily News, which was lying on the
side-table.
“ Anybody supplying any information as to the where-
abouts of a Greek gentleman named Paul Kratides, from
Athens, who is unable to speak English, will be rewarded.
A similar reward paid to any one giving information about


192
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
a Greek lady whose first name is Sophy. X 2473.' That
was in all the dailies. No answer."
"How about the Greek Legation?"
“I have inquired. They know nothing."
“A wire to the head of the Athens police, then ?”
“Sherlock has all the energy of the family,” said Mycroft,
turning to me. “Well, you take the case up by all means,
and let me know if you do any good.”
Certainly,” answered my friend, rising from his chair.
“I'll let you know, and Mr. Melas also. In the meantime,
Mr. Melas, I should certainly be on my guard, if I were you,
for of course they must know through these advertisements
that you have betrayed them."
As we walked home together, Holmes stopped at a tele-
graph office and sent off several wires.
“You see, Watson," he remarked, “our evening has been
by no means wasted. Some of my most interesting cases
have come to me in this way through Mycroft. The problem
which we have just listened to, although it can admit of but
one explanation, has still some distinguishing features."
“ You have hopes of solving it?"
“Well, knowing as much as we do, it will be singular in-
deed if we fail to discover the rest. You must yourself have
formed some theory which will explain the facts to which we
have listened."
“In a vague way, yes.”
“What was your idea, then?”
" It seemed to me to be obvious that this Greek girl had
been carried off by the young Englishman named Harold
Latimer.”
“ Carried off from where ?"
“Athens, perhaps."
Sherlock Holmes shook his head. “This young man could
not talk a word of Greek. The lady could talk English fairly
well. Inference—that she had been in England some little
time, but he had not been in Greece."


THE GREEK INTERPRETER
197
ing, sinking sometimes into a dull mumble and rising again
into a shrill whine. It was locked, but the key had been
left on the outside. Holmes flung open the door and rushed
in, but he was out again in an instant, with his hand to his
throat.
“ It's charcoal,” he cried. “Give it time. It will clear.”
Peering in, we could see that the only light in the room
came from a dull blue flame which flickered from a small
brass tripod in the centre. It threw a livid, unnatural circle
upon the floor, while in the shadows beyond we saw the
vague loom of two figures which crouched against the wall.
From the open door there reeked a horrible poisonous ex-
halation which set us gasping and coughing. Holmes rushed
to the top of the stairs to draw in the fresh air, and then,
dashing into the room, he threw up the window and hurled
the brazen tripod out into the garden.
“We can enter in a minute," he gasped, darting out again.
“Where is a candle ? I doubt if we could strike a match in
that atmosphere. Hold the light at the door and we shall
get them out, Mycroft, now !"
With a rush we got to the poisoned men and dragged them
out into the well-lit hall. Both of them were blue-lipped and
insensible, with swollen, congested faces and protruding eyes.
Indeed, so distorted were their features that, save for his
black beard and stout figure, we might have failed to recog-
nize in one of them the Greek interpreter who had parted
from us only a few hours before at the Diogenes Club. His
hands and feet were securely strapped together, and he bore
over one eye the marks of a violent blow. The other, who
was secured in a similar fashion, was a tall man in the last
stage of emaciation, with several strips of sticking-plaster ar-
ranged in a grotesque pattern over his face. He had ceased
to moan as we laid him down, and a glance showed me that
for him at least our aid had come too late. Mr. Melas, how-
ever, still lived, and in less than an hour, with the aid of am-
monia and brandy, I had the satisfaction of seeing him open


198
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
his eyes, and of knowing that my hand had drawn him back
from that dark valley in which all paths meet.
It was a simple story which he had to tell, and one which
did but confirm our own deductions. His visitor, on enter-
ing his rooms, had drawn a life-preserver from his sleeve,
and had so impressed him with the fear of instant and inevi-
table death that he had kidnapped him for the second time.
Indeed, it was almost mesmeric, the effect which this gig-
gling ruffian had produced upon the unfortunate linguist,
for he could not speak of him save with trembling hands
and a blanched cheek. He had been taken swiftly to Beck-
enham, and had acted as interpreter in a second interview,
even more dramatic than the first, in which the two English-
men had menaced their prisoner with instant death if he did
not comply with their demands. Finally, finding him proof
against every threat, they had hurled him back into his prison,
and after reproaching Melas with his treachery, which ap-
peared from the newspaper advertisement, they had stunned
him with a blow from a stick, and he remembered nothing
more until he found us bending over him.
And this was the singular case of the Grecian Interpreter,
the explanation of which is still involved in some mystery.
We were able to find out, by communicating with the gentle-
man who had answered the advertisement, that the unfortu-
nate young lady came of a wealthy Grecian family, and that
she had been on a visit to some friends in England. While
there she had met a young man named Harold Latimer, who
had acquired an ascendency over her and had eventually
persuaded her to fly with him. Her friends, shocked at the
event, had contented themselves with informing her brother
at Athens, and had then washed their hands of the matter.
The brother, on his arrival in England, had imprudently
placed himself in the power of Latimer and of his asso-
ciate, whose name was Wilson Kemp-a man of the foulest
antecedents. These two, finding that through his ignorance
of the language he was helpless in their hands, had kept him


THE GREEK INTERPRETER
199
a prisoner, and had endeavored by cruelty and starvation to
make him sign away his own and his sister's property. They
had kept him in the house without the girl's knowledge, and
the plaster over the face had been for the purpose of making
recognition difficult in case she should ever catch a glimpse
of him. Her feminine perceptions, however, had instantly
seen through the disguise when, on the occasion of the in-
terpreter's visit, she had seen him for the first time. The
poor girl, however, was herself a prisoner, for there was no
one about the house except the man who acted as coach-
man, and his wife, both of whom were tools of the conspira-
tors. Finding that their secret was out, and that their pris-
oner was not to be coerced, the two villains with the girl had
fled away at a few hours' notice from the furnished house
which they had hired, having first, as they thought, taken
vengeance both upon the man who had defied and the one
who had betrayed them.
Months afterwards a curious newspaper cutting reached
us from Buda-Pesth. It told how two Englishmen who had :
been travelling with a woman had met with a tragic end.
They had each been stabbed, it seems, and the Hungarian
police were of opinion that they had quarrelled and had
inflicted mortal injuries upon each other. Holmes, however,
is, I fancy, of a different way of thinking, and he holds to
this day that, if one could find the Grecian girl, one might
learn how the wrongs of herself and her brotier came to
be avenged.


Adventure xx11
THE NAVAL TREATY
c)
HE July which immediately succeeded my mar-
riage was made memorable by three cases of in-
terest, in which I had the privilege of being as-
sociated with Sherlock Holmes and of studying
his methods. I find them recorded in my notes
under the headings of “The Adventure of the Second Stain,"
“ The Adventure of the Naval Treaty," and "The Adventure
of the Tired Captain.” The first of these, however, deals
with interests of such importance and implicates so many of
the first families in the kingdom that for many years it will
be impossible to make it public. No case, however, in which
Holmes was engaged has ever illustrated the value of his ana-
lytical methods so clearly or has impressed those who were
associated with him so deeply. I still retain an almost ver-
batim report of the interview in which he demonstrated the
true facts of the case to Monsieur Dubugue of the Paris
police, and Fritz von Waldbaum, the well-known specialist of
Dantzig, both of whom had wasted their energies upon what
proved to be side-issues. The new century will have come,
however, before the story can be safely told. Meanwhile I
pass on to the second on my list, which promised also at one
time to be of national importance, and was marked by sev-
eral incidents which give it a quite unique character.
During my school-days I had been intimately associated
with a lad named Percy Phelps, who was of much the same
age as myself, though he was two classes ahead of me. He
was a very brilliant boy, and carried away every prize which


THE NAVAL TREATY
201
the school had to offer, finishing his exploits by winning a
scholarship which sent him on to continue his triumphant
career at Cambridge. He was, I remember, extremely well
connected, and even when we were all little boys together we
knew that his mother's brother was Lord Holdhurst, the
great conservative politician. This gaudy relationship did
him little good at school. On the contrary, it seemed rather
a piquant thing to us to chevy him about the playground and
hit him over the shins with a wicket. But it was another
thing when he came out into the world. I heard vaguely that
his abilities and the influences which he commanded had won
him a good position at the Foreign Office, and then he passed
completely out of my mind until the following letter recalled
his existence :
you may have
“ Briarbrae, Woking.
“MY DEAR WATSON, I have no doubt that you can re-
member.Tadpole' Phelps, who was in the fifth form when
you were in the third. It is possible even that
heard that through my uncle's influence I obtained a good
appointment at the Foreign Office, and that I was in a situa-
tion of trust and honor until a horrible misfortune came sud-
denly to blast my career.
“There is no use writing the details of that dreadful event.
In the event of your acceding to my request it is probable
that I shall have to narrate them to you. I have only just
recovered from nine weeks of brain-fever, and am still exceed-
ingly weak. Do you think that you could bring your friend
Mr. Holmes down to see me? I should like to have his opin-,
ion of the case, though the authorities assure me that nothing
more can be done. Do try to bring him down, and as soon
as possible. Every minute seems an hour while I live in this
state of horrible suspense.
Assure him that if I have not
asked his advice sooner it was not because I did not appre-
ciate his talents, but because I have been off my head ever
since the blow fell. Now I am clear again, though I dare not


202
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
think of it too much for fear of a relapse. I am still so weak
that I have to write, as you see, by dictating. Do try to bring
him. Your old school-fellow,
“ PERCY PHELPS."
There was something that touched me as I read this letter,
something pitiable in the reiterated appeals to bring Holmes.
So moved was I that even had it been a difficult matter I
should have tried it, but of course knew well that Holmes
loved his art, so that he was ever as ready to bring his aid as
his client could be to receive it. My wife agreed with me
that not a moment should be lost in laying the matter before
him, and so within an hour of breakfast-time I found myself
back once more in the old rooms in Baker Street.
Holmes was seated at his side-table clad in his dressing-
gown, and working hard over a chemical investigation. A
large curved retort was boiling furiously in the bluish flame
of a Bunsen burner, and the distilled drops were condensing
into a two-litre measure. My friend hardly glanced up as I
entered, and I, seeing that his investigation must be of impor-
tance, seated myself in an arm-chair and waited. He dipped
into this bottle or that, drawing out a few drops of each with
his glass pipette, and finally brought a test-tube containing a
solution over to the table. In his right hand he held a slip
of litmus-paper.
“You come at a crisis, Watson,” said he. “If this paper
remains blue, all is well. If it turns red, it means a man's
life.” He dipped it into the test-tube and it flushed at once
into a dull, dirty crimson. “Hum! I thought as much !” he
cried. “I will be at your service in an instant, Watson. You
will find tobacco in the Persian slipper.” He turned to his
desk and scribbled off several telegrams, which were handed
over to the page-boy. Then he threw himself down into the
chair opposite, and drew up his knees until his fingers clasped
round his long, thin shins.
“A very commonplace little murder," said he. “You've


THE NAVAL TREATY
203
got something better, I fancy. You are the stormy petrel of
crime, Watson. What is it?"
I handed him the letter, which he read with the most con.
centrated attention.
“It does not tell us very much, does it?" he remarked, as
he handed it back to me.
“Hardly anything."
And yet the writing is of interest.”
“But the writing is not his own.”
“Precisely. It is a woman's."
“A man's surely," I cried.
“No, a woman's, and a woman of rare character. You see,
at the commencement of an investigation it is something to
know that your client is in close contact with some one who,
for good or evil, has an exceptional nature. My interest is
already awakened in the case. If you are ready we will start
at once for Woking, and see this diplomatist who is in such
evil case, and the lady to whom he dictates his letters."
We were fortunate enough to catch an early train at Water-
loo, and in a little under an hour we found ourselves among
the fir-woods and the heather of Woking. Briarbrae proved
to be a large detached house standing in extensive grounds
within a few minutes' walk of the station. On sending in our
cards we were shown into an elegantly appointed drawing-
room, where we were joined in a few minutes by a rather
stout man who received us with much hospitality. His age
may have been nearer forty than thirty, but his cheeks were
so ruddy and his eyes so merry that he still conveyed the im-
pression of a plump and mischievous boy.
"I am so glad that you have come," said he, shaking our
hands with effusion. “Percy has been inquiring for you all
morning. Ah, poor old chap, he clings to any straw! His
father and his mother asked me to see you, for the mere men-
tion of the subject is very painful to them.”
“We have had no details yet,” observed Holmes. “I per-
ceive that you are not yourself a member of the family."


204
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Our acquaintance looked surprised, and then, glancing
down, he began to laugh.
“Of course you saw the J H monogram on my locket,"
said he. “For a moment I thought you had done something
clever. Joseph Harrison is my name, and as Percy is to mar-
ry my sister Annie I shall at least be a relation by marriage.
You will find my sister in his room, for she has nursed him
hand-and-foot this two months back. Perhaps we'd better go
in at once, for I know how impatient he is.”
The chamber in which we were shown was on the same
floor as the drawing-room. It was furnished partly as a sit-
ting and partly as a bedroom, with flowers arranged daintily
in every nook and corner. A young man, very pale and worn,
was lying upon a sofa near the open window, through which
came the rich scent of the garden and the balmy summer air.
A woman was sitting beside him, who rose as we entered.
“Shall I leave, Percy ?" she asked.
He clutched her hand to detain her. " How are you, Wat-
son?” said he, cordially. “I should never have known you
under that moustache, and I dare say you would not be pre-
pared to swear to me.
This I presume
is
your
celebrated
friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes ?”
I introduced him in a few words, and we both sat down.
The stout young man had left us, but his sister still remained
with her hand in that of the invalid. She was a striking-
looking woman, a little short and thick for symmetry, but with
a beautiful olive complexion, large, dark, Italian eyes, and a
wealth of deep black hair. Her rich tints made the white face
of her companion the more worn and haggard by the contrast.
“I won't waste your time," said he, raising himself upon
the sofa. ""I'll plunge into the matter without further pre-
amble. I was a happy and successful man, Mr. Holmes, and
on the eve of being married, when a sudden and dreadful
misfortune wrecked all my prospects in life.
“I was, as Watson may have told you, in the Foreign Office,
and through the influence of my uncle, Lord Holdhurst, I


THE NAVAL TREATY
205
these papers.
rose rapidly to a responsible position. When my uncle be-
came foreign minister in this administration he gave me sev-
eral missions of trust, and as I always brought them to a suc-
cessful conclusion, he came at last to have the utmost confi-
dence in my ability and tact.
* Nearly ten weeks ago-to be more accurate, on the 23d
of May–he called me into his private room, and, after compli-
menting me on the good work which I had done, he informed
me that he had a new commission of trust for me to execute.
“ This,' said he, taking a gray roll of paper from his bu-
reau, ‘is the original of that secret treaty between England
and Italy of which, I regret to say, some rumors have already
got into the public press. It is of enormous importance that
nothing further should leak out. The French or the Russian
embassy would pay an immense sum to learn the contents of
They should not leave my bureau were it not
that it is absolutely necessary to have them copied. You
have a desk in
your
office?'
“Yes, sir.'
“« Then take the treaty and lock it up there. I shall give
directions that you may remain behind when the others go,
so that you may copy it at your leisure without fear of being
overlooked. When you have finished, relock both the orig-
inal and the draft in the desk, and hand them over to me per-
sonally to-morrow morning.'
“I took the papers
and-
“Excuse me an instant," said Holmes. “Were
you
alone
during this conversation ?"
“ Absolutely."
“In a large room?"
“Thirty feet each way."
“In the centre ?"
“Yes, about it."
“And speaking low?"
“My uncle's voice is always remarkably low.
I hardly
spoke at all.”


THE NAVAL TREATY
207
"I wrote two more articles, and then, feeling more drowsy
than ever, I rose and walked up and down the room to stretch
my legs. My coffee had not yet come, and I wondered what
the cause of the delay could be. Opening the door, I started
down the corridor to find out. There was a straight passage,
dimly lighted, which led from the room in which I had been
working, and was the only exit from it. It ended in a cury-
ing staircase, with the commissionnaire's lodge in the passage
at the bottom. Half way down this staircase is a small land-
ing, with another passage running into it at right angles. This
second one leads by means of a second small stair to a side
door, used by servants, and also as a short cut by clerks when
coming from Charles Street. Here is a rough chart of the
place.”
COMMISSIONAIRE
MAIN DOOR
LANDING
WHITEHALL
CLERKS
ROON
SIDE DOOR
LANE
“ Thank you. I think that I quite follow you," said Sher-
lock Holmes.
“It is of the utmost importance that you should notice this
point. I went down the stairs and into the hall, where I found
the commissionnaire fast asleep in his box, with the kettle boil-
ing furiously upon the spirit-lamp. I took off the kettle and


208
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
Some one,
blew out the lamp, for the water was spurting over the floor.
Then I put out my hand and was about to shake the man,
who was still sleeping soundly, when a bell over his head
rang loudly, and he woke with a start.
“Mr. Phelps, sir !' said he, looking at me in bewilderment.
“I came down to see if my coffee was ready.'
“I was boiling the kettle when I fell asleep, sir.' He
looked at me and then up at the still quivering bell with an
ever-growing astonishment upon his face.
“ If you was here, sir, then who rang the bell ?" he asked.
6. The bell !' I cried. What bell is it?'
6. It's the bell of the room you were working in.'
A cold hand seemed to close round my heart.
then, was in that room where my precious treaty lay upon the
table. I ran frantically up the stair and along the passage.
There was no one in the corridors, Mr. Holmes. There was
no one in the room. All was exactly as I left it, save only
that the papers which had been committed to my care had
been taken from the desk on which they lay. The copy was
there, and the original was gone."
Holmes sat up in his chair and rubbed his hands. I could
see that the problem was entirely to his heart. “Pray, what
did
you do then?" he murmured.
I recognized in an instant that the thief must have come
up the stairs from the side door. Of course I must have met
him if he had come the other way."
“You were satisfied that he could not have been concealed
in the room all the time, or in the corridor which you have
just described as dimly lighted ?"
“ It is absolutely impossible. A rat could not conceal him-
self either in the room or the corridor. There is no cover
at all."
“ Thank you. Pray proceed.”
“The commissionnaire, seeing by my pale face that some-
thing was to be feared, had followed me upstairs. Now we
both rushed along the corridor and down the steep steps


2 10
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“But I was after him in an instant and caught him by the
sleeve.
“Where do you live?' said I.
“16 Ivy Lane, Brixton,' he answered. But don't let your-
self be drawn away upon a false scent, Mr. Phelps. Come to
the other end of the street and let us see if we can hear of
anything.'
“ Nothing was to be lost by following his advice. With the
policeman we both hurried down, but only to find the street
full of traffic, many people coming and going, but all only too
eager to get to a place of safety upon so wet a night. There
was no lounger who could tell us who had passed.
"Then we returned to the office, and searched the stairs
and the passage without result. The corridor which led to
the room was laid down with a kind of creamy linoleum which
shows an impression very easily. We examined it very care-
fully, but found no outline of any footmark.”
“Had it been raining all evening?"
“ Since about seven.
“How is it, then, that the woman who came into the room
about nine left no traces with her muddy boots ?”
“I am glad you raised the point. It occurred to me at the
time. The charwomen are in the habit of taking off their
boots at the commissionnaire's office, and putting on list slip-
pers.”
“That is very clear. There were no marks, then, though
the night was a wet one? The chain of events is certainly
one of extraordinary interest. What did you do next?”
"We examined the room also. There is no possibility of
a secret door, and the windows are quite thirty feet from th
ground. Both
Both of them were fastened on the inside. The
carpet prevents any possibility of a trap-door, and the ceiling
is of the ordinary whitewashed kind. I will pledge my life
that whoever stole my papers could only have come through
the door."
“How about the fireplace ?"


THE NAVAL TREATY
213
every one connected with me. What though I was the vic-
tim of an extraordinary accident? No allowance is made for
accidents where diplomatic interests are at stake. I was ru-
ined, shamefully, hopelessly ruined. I don't know what I did.
I fancy I must have made a scene. I have a dim recollec-
tion of a group of officials who crowded round me, endeavor-
ing to soothe me. One of them drove down with me to Wa-
terloo, and saw me into the Woking train. I believe that he
would have come all the way had it not been that Dr. Ferrier,
who lives near me, was going down by that very train. The
doctor most kindly took charge of me, and it was well he did
so, for I had a fit in the station, and before we reached home
I was practically a raving maniac.
“You can imagine the state of things here when they were
roused from their beds by the doctor's ringing, and found me
in this condition. Poor Annie here and my mother were
broken-hearted. Dr. Ferrier had just heard enough from the
detective at the station to be able to give an idea of what had
happened, and his story did not mend matters. It was evi.
dent to all that I was in for a long illness, so joseph was bun-
dled out of this cheery bedroom, and it was turned into a sick-
room for me. Here I have lain, Mr. Holmes, for over nine
weeks, unconscious, and raving with brain-fever. If it had
not been for Miss Harrison here and for the doctor's care I
should not be speaking to you now.
She has nursed me by
day and a hired nurse has looked after me by night, for in my
mad fits I was capable of anything. Slowly my reason has
cleared, but it is only during the last three days that my mem-
ory has quite returned. Sometimes I wish that it never had.
The first thing that I did was to wire to Mr. Forbes, who had
the case in hand. He came out, and assures me that, though
everything has been done, no trace of a clue has been discov-
ered. The commissionnaire and his wife have been exam-
ined in every way without any light being thrown upon the
matter. The suspicions of the police then rested upon young
Gorot, who, as you may remember, stayed over time in the


214
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
office that night. His remaining behind and his French name
were really the only two points which could suggest suspicion;
but, as a matter of fact, I did not begin work until he had
gone, and his people are of Huguenot extraction, but as Eng-
lish in sympathy and tradition as you and I are. Nothing
was found to implicate him in any way, and there the matter
dropped. I turn to you, Mr. Holmes, as absolutely my last
hope. If you fail me, then my honor as well as my position
are forever forfeited.”
The invalid sank back upon his cushions, tired out by this
long recital, while his nurse poured him out a glass of some
stimulating medicine. Holmes sat silently, with his head
thrown back and his eyes closed, in an attitude which might
seem listless to a stranger, but which I knew betokened the
most intense self-absorption.
“Your statement has been so explicit,” said he at last,
" that you have really left me very few questions to ask.
There is one of the very utmost importance, however. Did
you tell any one that you had this special task to perform ?”
“No one.”
“Not Miss Harrison here, for example?"
"No. I had not been back to Woking between getting
the order and executing the commission."
“And none of your people had by chance been to see
you?"
“None.”
“Did any of them know their way about in the office ?”
Oh, yes, all of them had been shown over it."
“Still, of course, if you said nothing to any one about the
treaty these inquiries are irrelevant."
“I said nothing."
“Do you know anything of the commissionnaire ?"
“Nothing except that he is an old soldier."
“What regiment ?"
“Oh, I have heard-Coldstream Guards."
I have no doubt I can get details from
6. Thank you.


THE NAVAL TREATY
215
Forbes. The authorities are excellent at amassing facts,
though they do not always use them to advantage. What a
lovely thing a rose is !"
He walked past the couch to the open window, and held
up the drooping stalk of a moss-rose, looking down at the
dainty blend of crimson and green. It was a new phase of
his character to me, for I had never before seen him show
any keen interest in natural objects.
“There is nothing in which deduction is so necessary as in
religion," said he, leaning with his back against the shutters.
“It can be built up as an exact science by the reasoner. Our
highest assurance of the goodness of Providence seems to me
to rest in the flowers. All other things, our powers, our de-
sires, our food, are all really necessary for our existence in
the first instance. But this rose is an extra. Its smell and
its color are an embellishment of life, not a condition of it.
It is only goodness which gives extras, and so I say again
that we have much to hope from the flowers."
Percy Phelps and his nurse looked at Holmes during this
demonstration with surprise and a good deal of disappoint-
ment written upon their faces. He had fallen into a reverie,
with the moss-rose between his fingers. It had lasted some
minutes before the young lady broke in upon it.
“Do you see any prospect of solving this mystery, Mr.
Holmes ?" she asked, with a touch of asperity in her voice.
"Oh, the mystery!" he answered, coming back with a start
to the realities of life. “Well, it would be absurd to deny
that the case is a very abstruse and complicated one, but I
can promise you that I will look into the matter and let you
know any points which may strike me.”
“Do you see any clue?”
« You have furnished me with seven, but, of course, I must
test them before I can pronounce upon their value."
“You suspect some one?”
I suspect myself.”
“ What!"


218
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“ Lord Holdhurst !"
“Well, it is just conceivable that a statesman might find
himself in a position where he was not sorry to have such a
document accidentally destroyed.”
“Not a statesman with the honorable record of Lord Hold-
hurst?"
“It is a possibility and we cannot afford to disregard it.
We shall see the noble lord to-day and find out if he can tell
us anything. Meanwhile I have already set inquiries on
foot.”
Already?"
“Yes, I sent wires from Woking station to every evening
paper in London. This advertisement will appear in each of
them."
He handed over a sheet torn from a note-book. On it was
scribbled in pencil : “ £10 reward. The number of the cab
which dropped a fare at or about the door of the Foreign
Office in Charles Street at quarter to ten in the evening of
May 23d. Apply 221 B, Baker Street."
66 You are confident that the thief came in a cab?”
“If not, there is no harm done. But if Mr. Phelps is cor-
Tect in stating that there is no hiding-place either in the room
or the corridors, then the persor, must have come from out-
side. If he came from outside on so wet a night, and yet left
no trace of damp upon the linoleum, which was examined
within a few minutes of his passing, then it is exceedingly
probable that he came in a cab. Yes, I think that we may
safely deduce a cab.”
“ It sounds plausible.”
“That is one of the clues of which I spoke. It may
lead
us to something. And then, of course, there is the bell-
which is the most distinctive feature of the case. Why
should the bell ring? Was it the thief who did it out of bra-
vado? Or was it some one who was with the thief who did it
in order to prevent the crime? Or was it an accident? Or
was it?" He sank back into the state of intense and silent


THE NAVAL TREATY
221
what you have told me. If I can put the man into your
hands
you shall hear from me. Come along, Watson."
“Where are we going to now?” I asked, as we left the
office.
“We are now going to interview Lord Holdhurst, the cab-
inet minister and future premier of England."
We were fortunate in finding that Lord Holdhurst was still
in his chambers in Downing Street, and on Holmes sending
in his card we were instantly shown up. The statesman re-
ceived us with that old-fashioned courtesy for which he is re-
markable, and seated us on the two luxuriant lounges on either
side of the fireplace. Standing on the rug between us, with
his slight, tall figure, his sharp features, thoughtful face, and
curling hair prematurely tinged with gray, he seemed to rep-
resent that not too common type, a nobleman who is in truth
noble.
“ Your name is very familiar to me, Mr. Holmes,” said he,
smiling “And, of course, I cannot pretend to be ignorant
of the object of your visit. There has only been one occur-
rence in these offices which could call for your attention. In
whose interest are you acting, may I ask ?"
“In that of Mr. Percy Phelps," answered Holmes.
“Ah, my unfortunate nephew! You can understand that
our kinship makes it the more impossible for me to screen
him in any way. I fear that the incident must have a very
prejudicial effect upon his career."
“ But if the document is found ?"
“Ah, that, of course, would be different."
“I had one or two questions which I wished to ask you,
Lord Holdhurst."
“I shall be happy to give you any information in my
power."
“Was it in this room that you gave your instructions as to
the copying of the document?”
“ It was.”
“Then you could hardly have been overheard ?"


222
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“It is out of the question."
“Did you ever mention to any one that it was your inten
tion to give any one the treaty to be copied ?"
“ Never."
“ You are certain of that?”
“ Absolutely."
“Well, since you never said so, and Mr. Phelps never said
so, and nobody else knew anything of the matter, then the
thief's presence in the room was purely accidental. He saw
his chance and he took it."
The statesman smiled. “You take me out of my province
there," said he.
Holmes considered for a moment. “ There is another
very important point which I wish to discuss with you,”
said he. “You feared, as I understand, that very grave re-
sults might follow from the details of this treaty becoming
known.”
A shadow passed over the expressive face of the states-
man. “Very grave results indeed.”
“And have they occurred ?”
“Not yet."
“If the treaty had reached, let us say, the French or Rus-
sian Foreign Office, you would expect to hear of it?"
“I should," said Lord Holdhurst, with a wry face.
“Since nearly ten weeks have elapsed, then, and nothing
has been heard, it is not unfair to suppose that for some rea-
son the treaty has not reached them."
Lord Holdhurst shrugged his shoulders.
“We can hardly suppose, Mr. Holmes, that the thief took
the treaty in order to frame it and hang it up."
Perhaps he is waiting for a better price."
• If he waits a little longer he will get no price at all. The
treaty will cease to be secret in a few months.”
“ That is most important,” said Holmes. “Of course, it
is a possible supposition that the thief has had a sudden
illness"


THE NAVAL TREATY
223
“An attack of brain-fever, for example ?" asked the states-
man, flashing a swift glance at him.
"I did not say so," said Holmes, imperturbably. "And
now, Lord Holdhurst, we have already taken up too much of
your valuable time, and we shall wish you good-day.”
Every success to your investigation, be the criminal who
it may," answered the nobleman, as he bowed us out at the
door.
“He's a fine fellow," said Holmes, as we came out into
Whitehall. “But he has a struggle to keep up his position.
He is far from rich and has many calls. You noticed, of
course, that his boots had been resoled. Now, Watson, I
won't detain you from your legitimate work any longer. I
shall do nothing more to-day, unless I have an answer to my
cab advertisement. But I should be extremely obliged to you
if you
would come down with me to Woking to-morrow, by
the same train which we took yesterday."
case,
I met him accordingly next morning and we travelled down
to Woking together. He had had no answer to his advertise-
ment, he said, and no fresh light had been thrown upon the
He had, when he so willed it, the utter immobility of
countenance of a red Indian, and I could not gather from his
appearance whether he was satisfied or not with the position
of the case. His conversation, I remember, was about the
Bertillon system of measurements, and he expressed his en-
thusiastic admiration of the French savant.
We found our client still under the charge of his devoted
nurse, but looking considerably better than before. He rose
from the sofa and greeted us without difficulty when we en-
tered.
"Any news?” he asked, eagerly.
"My report, as I expected, is a negative one,” said Holmes.
* I have seen Forbes, and I have seen your uncle, and I have
set one or two trains of inquiry upon foot which may lead to
something."


THE NAVAL TREATY
225
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 fung
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, how-
ever, 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.


226
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“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 displeas-
ure. 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 stooped 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 chosen 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, “
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 ?”
"you found


230
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
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 misfortunes made him queru-
lous 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, specu-
lating as to what Holmes was doing, what steps Lord Hold-
hurst was taking, what news we should have in the morn-
ing. 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 pre-
sented 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 inscru-
table 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
matters 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


232
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
woman,
“ 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 miles of Surrey air this morning. I suppose
that there has been no answer from my cabman advertise.
ment? 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 with 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, un-
covering a dish of curried chicken. “Her cuisine is a little
limited, but she has as good an idea of breakfast as a Scotch-
What have you there, 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 he 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-gray paper. He caught it up,
devoured it with his eyes, and then danced madly about the
room, pressing 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, soothingly, patting him
upon the shoulder.
“It was too bad to spring it on you like


THE NAVAL TREATY
233
99
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
honor.”
“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 inner-
most pocket of his coat.
“I have not the heart to interrupt your breakfast any fur-
ther, 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 af-
terwards," 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 put-
ting a paper of sandwiches in my pocket. There I remained
until evening, when I set off for Woking again, and found my-
self 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.


234
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
"The blind was not down in your room, and I could see
Miss Harrison sitting there reading by the table.
It was
quarter-past ten when she closed her book, fastened the shut-
ters, 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 co-operation you would not
have that paper in your coat-pocket. She departed then and
the lights went out, and I was left squatting in the rhododen-
dron-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 watercourse 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 ser-
vants' door was opened, and Mr. Joseph Harrison stepped
out into the moonlight."
“Joseph !" ejaculated Phelps.
“He was bare-headed, but he had a black cloak 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.


THE NAVAL TREATY
235
"From where I lay I had a perfect view of the inside of
the room and of every one of his movements. He lit the
two candles which stood upon the mantelpiece, and then he
proceeded to turn back the corner of the carpet in the neigh-
borhood of the door. Presently he stooped and picked out a
square piece of board, such as is usually left to enable plumb-
ers to get at the joints of the gas-pipes. This one covered,
as a matter of fact, the T joint which gives off the pipe which
supplies the kitchen underneath. Out of this hiding-place
he drew that little cylinder of paper, pushed down the board,
rearranged the carpet, blew out the candles, and walked
straight into my arms as I stood waiting for him outside the
window.
Well, he has rather more viciousness than I gave him
credit for, has Master Joseph. He flew at me with his
knife, and I had to grass him twice, and got a cut over the
knuckles, before I had the upper hand of him. He looked
murder out of the only eye he could see with when we had
finished, but he listened to reason and gave up the papers.
Having got them I let my man go, but I wired full partic-
ulars to Forbes this morning. If he is quick enough to
catch his bird, well and good. But if, as I shrewdly sus-
pect, he finds the nest empty before he gets there, why, all
the better for the government. I fancy that Lord Hold-
hurst for one, and Mr. Percy Phelps for another, would very
much rather that the affair never got as far as a police-
court."
“My God!" gasped our client. “Do you tell me that dur-
ing these long ten weeks of agony the stolen papers were
within the very room with me all the time ?"
“ So it was.”
“And Joseph! Joseph a villain and a thief!"
“Hum! I am afraid Joseph's character is a rather deeper
and more dangerous one than one might judge from his ap-
pearance. From what I have heard from him this morning,
I gather that he has lost heavily in dabbling with stocks, and


236
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
that he is ready to do anything on earth to better his fort
unes. Being an absolutely selfish man, when a chance pre
sented itself he did not allow either his sister's happiness or
your reputation to hold his hand.”
Percy Phelps sank back in his chair. “My head whirls,”
said he. “Your words have dazed me."
“The principal difficulty in your case,” remarked Holmes,
in his didactic fashion, “lay in the fact of there being too
much evidence. What was vital was overlaid and hidden by
what was irrelevant. Of all the facts which were presented
to us we had to pick just those which we deemed to be essen-
tial, and then piece them together in their order, so as to re-
construct this very remarkable chain of events. I had al-
ready begun to suspect Joseph, from the fact that you had
intended to travel home with him that night, and that there-
fore it was a likely enough thing that he should call for you,
knowing the Foreign Office well, upon his way. When I heard
that some one had been so anxious to get into the bedroom,
in which no one but Joseph could have concealed anything
--you told us in your narrative how you had turned Joseph
out when you arrived with the doctor - my suspicions all
changed to certainties, especially as the attempt was made
on the first night upon which the nurse was absent, showing
that the intruder was well acquainted with the ways of the
house."
“ How blind I have been !"
“ The facts of the case, as far as I have worked them out,
are these: this Joseph Harrison entered the office through
the Charles Street door, and knowing his way he walked
straight into your room the instant after you left it. Finding
no one there he promptly rang the bell, and at the instant
that he did so his eyes caught the paper upon the table. A
glance showed him that chance had put in his way a State
document of immense value, and in an instant he had thrust
it into his pocket and was gone. A few minutes elapsed, as
you remember, before the sleepy commissionnaire drew your


THE NAVAL TREATY
237
attention to the bell, and those were just enough to give the
thief time to make his escape.
“He made his way to Woking by the first train, and having
examined his booty and assured himself that it really was of
immense value, he had concealed it in what he thought was a
very safe place, with the intention of taking it out again in a
day or two, and carrying it to the French embassy, or wher-
ever he thought that a long price was to be had. Then came
your sudden return. He, without a moment's warning, was
bundled out of his room, and from that time onward there
were always at least two of you there to prevent him from re-
gaining his treasure. The situation to him must have been a
maddening one. But at last he thought he saw his chance.
He tried to steal in, but was baffled by your wakefulness.
You may remember that you did not take your usual draught
that night."
“I remember.”
“I fancy that he had taken steps to make that draught
efficacious, and that he quite relied upon your being uncon-
scious. Of course, I understood that he would repeat the at-
tempt whenever it could be done with safety. Your leaving
the room gave him the chance he wanted. I kept Miss Har-
rison in it all day so that he might not anticipate us. Then,
having given him the idea that the coast was clear, I kept
guard as I have described. I already knew that the papers
were probably in the room, but I had no desire to rip up all
the planking and skirting in search of them. I let him take
them, therefore, from the hiding-place, and so saved myself
an infinity of trouble. Is there any other point which I can
make clear ?"
“Why did he try the window on the first occasion," I
asked, “when he might have entered by the door ?"
"In reaching the door he would have to pass seven bed-
sooms. On the other hand, he could get out on to the lawn
with ease. Anything else?"
* You do not think," asked Phelps, "that he had any


Adventure. XX111
THE FINAL PROBLEM
IS
UDT is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen
to write these the last words in which I shall
ever record the singular gifts by which my friend
Mr. Sherlock Holmes was distinguished. In an
incoherent and, as I deeply feel, an entirely in-
adequate fashion, I have endeavored to give some account
of my strange experiences in his company from the chance
which first brought us together at the period of the “Study
in Scarlet,” up to the time of his interference in the matter
of the “ Naval Treaty”-an interference which had the un-
questionable effect of preventing a serious international com-
plication. It was my intention to have stopped there, and
to have said nothing of that event which has created a void
in my life which the lapse of two years has done little to fill.
My hand has been forced, however, by the recent letters in
which Colonel James Moriarty defends the memory of his
brother, and I have no choice but to lay the facts before the
public exactly as they occurred. I alone know the absolute
truth of the matter, and I am satisfied that the time has come
when no good purpose is to be served by its suppression. As
far as I know, there have been only three accounts in the
public press : that in the Fournal de Genève on May 6th,
1891, the Reuter's despatch in the English papers on May
7th, and finally the recent letters to which I have alluded.
Of these the first and second were extremely condensed, while
the last is, as I shall now show, an absolute perversion of the
facts. It lies with me to tell for the first time what really


240
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
took place between Professor Moriarty and Mr. Sherlock
Holmes.
It may be remembered that after my marriage, and my
subsequent start in private practice, the very intimate rela-
tions which had existed between Holmes and myself became
to some extent modified. He still came to me from time to
time when he desired a companion in his investigations, but
these occasions grew more and more seldom, until I find that
in the year 1890 there were only three cases of which I retain
any record. During the winter of that year and the early
spring of 1891, I saw in the papers that he had been engaged
by the French government upon a matter of supreme impor-
tance, and I received two notes from Holmes, dated from Nar-
bonne and from Nîmes, from which I gathered that his stay
in France was likely to be a long one. It was with some sur-
prise, therefore, that I saw him walk into my consulting-room
upon the evening of April 24th. It struck me that he was
looking even paler and thinner than usual.
“Yes, I have been using myself up rather too freely," he
remarked, in answer to my look rather than to my words; "I
have been a little pressed of late. Have you any objection to
my closing your shutters?"
The only light in the room came from the lamp upon the
table at which I had been reading. Holmes edged his way
round the wall, and Ainging the shutters together, he bolted
them securely.
“ You are afraid of something?" I asked.
“Well, I am.”
“Of what?”
“Of air-guns."
"My dear Holmes, what do you mean?"
"I think that you know me well enough, Watson, to
understand that I am by no means a nervous man. At
the same time, it is stupidity rather than courage to re-
fuse to recognize danger when it is close upon you. Might
I trouble you for a match ?” He drew in the smoke of


THE FINAL PROBLEM
241
over.
his cigarette as if the soothing influence was grateful to
him.
“I must apologize for calling so late," said he, "and I must
further beg you to be so unconventional as to allow me to
leave your house presently by scrambling over your back gar-
den wall.”
“ But what does it all mean?” I asked.
He held out his hand, and I saw in the light of the lamp
that two of his knuckles were burst and bleeding.
“It's not an airy nothing, you see,” said he, smiling. “On
the contrary, it is solid enough for a man to break his hand
Is Mrs. Watson in ?"
“She is away upon a visit.”
“ Indeed! You are alone?”
“Quite."
“ Then it makes it the easier for me to propose that you
should come away with me for a week to the Continent.”
“Where?"
“Oh, anywhere. It's all the same to me."
There was something very strange in all this. It was not
Holmes's nature to take an aimless holiday, and something
about his pale, worn face told me that his nerves were at their
highest tension. He saw the question in my eyes, and, put-
ting his finger-tips together and his elbows upon his knees, he
explained the situation.
“You have probably never heard of Professor Moriarty?"
said he.
“ Never."
“Aye, there's the genius and the wonder of the thing!” he
cried. “The man pervades London, and no one has heard of
him. That's what puts him on a pinnacle in the records of
crime. I tell you, Watson, in all seriousness, that if I could
beat that man, if I could free society of him, I should feel that
my own career had reached its summit, and I should be pre-
pared to turn to some more placid line in life. Between our-
selves, the recent cases in which I have been of assistance


242
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
in
to the royal family of Scandinavia, and to the French re-
public, have left me in such a position that I could con-
tinue to live in the quiet fashion which is most congenial to
me, and to concentrate my attention upon my chemical re-
searches. But I could not rest, Watson, I could not sit quiet
my chair, if I thought that such a man as Professor Mori-
arty were walking the streets of London unchallenged."
“What has he done, then ?”
· His career has been an extraordinary one. He is a man
of good birth and excellent education, endowed by nature
with a phenomenal mathematical faculty. At the age of twen-
ty-one he wrote a treatise upon the Binomial Theorem, which
has had a European vogue. On the strength of it he won the
Mathematical Chair at one of our smaller universities, and
had, to all appearances, a most brilliant career before him.
But the man had hereditary tendencies of the most diabolical
kind. A criminal strain ran in his blood, which, instead of
being modified, was increased and rendered infinitely more
dangerous by his extraordinary mental powers. Dark rumors
gathered round him in the university town, and eventually he
was compelled to resign his chair and to come down to Lon-
don, where he set up as an army coach. So much is known
to the world, but what I am telling you now is what I have
myself discovered.
“ As you are aware, Watson, there is no one who knows the
higher criminal world of London so well as I do. For years
past I have continually been conscious of some power behind
the malefactor, some deep organizing power which forever
stands in the way of the law, and throws its shield over the
wrong-doer. Again and again in cases of the most varying
sorts—forgery cases, robberies, murders--I have felt the pres-
ence of this force, and I have deduced its action in many of
those undiscovered crimes in which I have not been person-
ally consulted. For years I have endeavored to break through
the veil which shrouded it, and at last the time came when I
seized
my
thread and followed it, until it led me, after a thou-


THE FINAL PROBLEM
243
sand cunning windings, to ex-Professor Moriarty of mathemat-
ical celebrity
“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson. He is the organ-
izer of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected
in this great city. He is a genius, a philosopher, an abstract
thinker. He has a brain of the first order. He sits motion-
less, like a spider in the centre of its web, but that web has a
thousand radiations, and he knows well every quiver of each
of them. He does little himself. He only plans. But his
agents are numerous and splendidly organized. Is there a
crime to be done, a paper to be abstracted, we will say, a house
to be rifled, a man to be removed
the word is passed to the
Professor, the matter is organized and carried out. The
agent may be caught. In that case money is found for his
bail or his defence. But the central power which uses the
agent is never caught-never so much as suspected. This
was the organization which I deduced, Watson, and which I
devoted my whole energy to exposing and breaking up.
“ But the Professor was fenced round with safeguards so
cunningly devised that, do what I would, it seemed impossible
to get evidence which would convict in a court of law. You
know my powers, my dear Watson, and yet at the end of
three months I was forced to confess that I had at last met
an antagonist who was my intellectual equal. My horror at
his crimes was lost in my admiration at his skill. But at last
he made a trip-only a little, little trip—but it was more than
he could afford, when I was so close upon him. I had my
chance, and, starting from that point, I have woven my net.
round him until now it is all ready to close. In three days -
that is to say, on Monday next-matters will be ripe, and the
Professor, with all the principal members of his gang, will be
in the hands of the police. Then will come the greatest crim-
inal trial of the century, the clearing up of over forty myste-
ries, and the rope for all of them; but if we move at all pre-
maturely, you understand, they may slip out of our hands
even at the last moment.


244
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“Now, if I could have done this without the knowledge of
Professor Moriarty, all would have been well. But he was too
wily for that. He saw every step which I took to draw my
toils round him. Again and again he strove to break away,
but I as often headed him off. I tell you, my friend, that if a
detailed account of that silent contest could be written, it
would take its place as the most brilliant bit of thrust-and-
parry work in the history of detection, Never have I risen
to such a height, and never have I been so hard pressed by
an opponent. He cut deep, and yet I just undercut him.
This morning the last steps were taken, and three days only
were wanted to complete the business. I was sitting in my
room thinking the matter over, when the door opened and
Professor Moriarty stood before me.
“My nerves are fairly proof, Watson, but I must confess to
a start when I saw the very man who had been so much in
my thoughts standing there on my threshold. His appear-
ance was quite familiar to me. He is extremely tall and thin,
his forehead domes out in a white curve, and his two eyes are
deeply sunken in his head. He is clean-shaven, pale, and as-
cetic-looking, retaining something of the professor in his feat-
His shoulders are rounded from much study, and his
face protrudes forward, and is forever slowly oscillating from
side to side in a curiously reptilian fashion. He peered at
me with great curiosity in his puckered eyes.
“You have less frontal development than I should have
expected,' said he, at last. It is a dangerous habit to finger
loaded firearms in the pocket of one's dressing-gown.'
“ The fact is that upon his entrance I had instantly recog-
nized the extreme personal danger in which I lay. The only
conceivable escape for him lay in silencing my tongue. In
an instant I had slipped the revolver from the drawer into
my pocket, and was covering him through the cloth. At his
remark I drew the weapon out and laid it cocked upon the
table. He still smiled and blinked, but there was something
about his eyes which made me feel very glad that I had it there.
ures,


THE FINAL PROBLEM
245
“You evidently don't know me,' said he.
""On the contrary,' I answered, :I think it is fairly evident
that I do. Pray take a chair. I can spare you five minutes
if you have anything to say.'
“* All that I have to say has already crossed your mind,'
said he.
“ " Then possibly my answer has crossed yours,' I replied.
You stand fast ?'
" • Absolutely.'
“He clapped his hand into his pocket, and I raised the
pistol from the table. · But he merely drew out a memoran-
dum-book in which he had scribbled some dates.
"• You crossed my path on the 4th of January,' said he.
'On the 23d you incommoded me; by the middle of Febru-
ary I was seriously inconvenienced by you; at the end of
March I was absolutely hampered in my plans; and now, at
the close of April, I find myself placed in such a position
through your continual persecution that I am in positive dan-
ger of losing my liberty. The situation is becoming an im-
possible one.
"Have you any suggestion to make?' I asked.
“You must drop it, Mr. Holmes,' said he, swaying his face
about. “You really must, you know.'
"• After Monday,' said I.
“Tut, tut !' said he. 'I am quite sure that a man of your
intelligence will see that there can be but one outcome to this
affair. It is necessary that you should withdraw. You have
worked things in such a fashion that we have only one re-
source left. It has been an intellectual treat to me to see
the way in which you have grappled with this affair, and I
say, unaffectedly, that it would be a grief to me to be forced
to take any extreme measure. You smile, sir, but I assure
you that it really would.'
“Danger is part of my trade,' I remarked.
“This is not danger,' said he. "It is inevitable destruc-
tion. You stand in the way not merely of an individual, but


THE FINAL PROBLEM
247
Street crossing a two-horse van furiously driven whizzed
round and was on me like a flash. I sprang for the foot-path
and saved myself by the fraction of a second. The van
dashed round by Marylebone Lane and was gone in an in-
stant. I kept to the pavement after that, Watson, but as I
walked down Vere Street a brick came down from the roof of
one of the houses, and was shattered to fragments at my feet.
I called the police and had the place examined.
There were
slates and bricks piled up on the roof preparatory to some re-
pairs, and they would have me believe that the wind had top-
pled over one of these. Of course I knew better, but I could
prove nothing. I took a cab after that and reached my
brother's rooms in Pall Mall, where I spent the day. Now I
have come round to you, and on my way I was attacked by a
rough with a bludgeon. I knocked him down, and the police
have him in custody ; but I can tell you with the most abso-
lute confidence that no possible connection will ever be traced
between the gentleman upon whose front teeth I have barked.
my knuckles and the retiring mathematical coach, who is, I
dare say, working out problems upon a black-board ten miles
away. You will not wonder, Watson, that my first act on en-
tering your rooms was to close your shutters, and that I have
been compelled to ask your permission to leave the house by
some less conspicuous exit than the front door."
I had often admired my friend's courage, but never more
than now, as he sat quietly checking off a series of incidents
which must have combined to make up a day of horror.
“You will spend the night here?” I said.
No, my friend, you might find me a dangerous guest. I
have my plans laid, and all will be well. Matters have gone
so far now that they can move without my help as far as the
arrest goes, though my presence is necessary for a conviction.
It is obvious, therefore, that I cannot do better than get away
for the few days which remain before the police are at liberty
to act. It would be a great pleasure to me, therefore, if you
could come on to the Continent with me."
66


248
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
“The practice is quiet,” said I, “and I have an accommo-
dating neighbor. I should be glad to come.”
“ And to start to-morrow morning ?”
“ If necessary.”
Oh
yes,
it is most necessary.
Then these are your in-
structions, and I beg, my dear Watson, that you will obey them
to the letter, for you are now playing a double-handed game
with me against the cleverest rogue and the most powerful
syndicate of criminals in Europe. Now listen! You will de-
spatch whatever luggage you intend to take by a trusty mes-
senger unaddressed to Victoria to-right. In the morning you
will send for a hansom, desiring your man to take neither the
first nor the second which may present itself. Into this han-
som you will jump, and you will drive to the Strand end of
the Lowther Arcade, handing the address to the cabman upon
a slip of paper, with a request that he will not throw it away.
Have your fare ready, and the instant that your cab stops,
dash through the Arcade, timing yourself to reach the other
side at a quarter-past nine. You will find a small brougham
waiting close to the curb, driven by a fellow with a heavy
black cloak tipped at the collar with red. Into this you will
step, and you will reach Victoria in time for the Continental
express.”
“ Where shall I meet you?”
“At the station. The second first-class carriage from the
front will be reserved for us."
“The carriage is our rendezvous, then?”
“ Yes.”
It was in vain that I asked Holmes to remain for the even-
ing. It was evident to me that he thought he might bring
trouble to the roof he was under, and that that was the mo-
tive which impelled him to go. With a few hurried words as
to our plans for the morrow he rose and came out with me into
the garden, clambering over the wall which leads into Morti-
mer Street, and immediately whistling for a hansom, in which
I heard him drive away.


THE FINAL PROBLEM
251
"No."
“It was my brother Mycroft. It is an advantage to get
about in such a case without taking a mercenary into your
confidence. But we must plan what we are to do about
Moriarty now.”
“As this is an express, and as the boat runs in connec-
tion with it, I should think we have shaken him off very
effectively."
“My dear Watson, you evidently did not realize my mean-
ing when I said that this man may be taken as being quite on
the same intellectual plane as myself. You do not imagine
that if I were the pursuer I should allow myself to be baffled
by so slight an obstacle. Why, then, should you think so
meanly of him?"
“ What will he do ?”
66 What I should do.”
“What would you do, then ?”
“Engage a special."
“ But it must be late."
“By no means. This train stops at Canterbury; and there
is always at least a quarter of an hour's delay at the boat.
He will catch us there."
“One would think that we were the criminals. Let us
have him arrested on his arrival.”
“ It would be to ruin the work of three months. We should
get the big fish, but the smaller would dart right and left out
of the net. On Monday we should have them all. No, an ar-
rest is inadmissible.”
“ What then?"
* We shall get out at Canterbury.”
" And then ?”
“Well, then we must make a cross-country journey to New-
haven, and so over to Dieppe. Moriarty will again do what
I should do. He will get on to Paris, mark down our lug-
gage, and wait for two days at the depot. In the meantime
we shall treat ourselves to a couple of carpet-bags, encourage


252
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
the manufactures of the countries through which we travel,
and make our way at our leisure into Switzerland, via Luxem-
bourg and Basle.”
At Canterbury, therefore, we alighted, only to find that we
should have to wait an hour before we could get a train to
Newhaven.
I was still looking rather ruefully after the rapidly disap-
pearing luggage-van which contained my wardrobe, when
Holmes pulled my sleeve and pointed up the line.
Already, you see,” said he.
Far away, from among the Kentish woods there rose a thin
spray of smoke. A minute later a carriage and engine could
be seen flying along the open curve which leads to the station.
We had hardly time to take our place behind a pile of luggage
when it passed with a rattle and a roar, beating a blast of hot
air into our faces.
“There he goes," said Holmes, as we watched the carriage
swing and rock over the points. “There are limits, you see, to
our friend's intelligence. It would have been a coup-de-maître
had he deduced what I would deduce and acted accordingly."
“And what would he have done had he overtaken us?”
“ There cannot be the least doubt that he would have made
a murderous attack upon me. It is, however, a game at which
two may play. The question now is whether we should take
a premature lunch here, or run our chance of starving before
we reach the buffet at Newhaven.",
We made our way to Brussels that night and spent two days
there, moving on upon the third day as far as Strasburg. On
the Monday morning Holmes had telegraphed to the London
police, and in the evening we found a reply waiting for us at
our hotel. Holmes tore it open, and then with a bitter curse
hurled it into the grate.
“I might have known it!" he groaned. “He has es-
caped !"
Moriarty?"


254
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
was a common chance in the spring-time at that spot. He
said nothing, but he smiled at me with the air of a man who
sees the fulfilment of that which he had expected.
And yet for all his watchfulness he was never depressed.
On the contrary, I can never recollect having seen him in
such exuberant spirits. Again and again he recurred to the
fact that if he could be assured that society was freed from
Professor Moriarty he would cheerfully bring his own career
to a conclusion.
“I think that I may go so far as to say, Watson, that I have
not lived wholly in vain," he remarked. “If my
record were
closed to-night I could still survey it with equanimity. The
air of London is the sweeter for my presence. In over a
thousand cases I am not aware that I have ever used my
powers upon the wrong side. Of late I have been tempted
to look into the problems furnished by nature rather than
those more superficial ones for which our artificial state of
society is responsible. Your memoirs will draw to an end,
Watson, upon the day that I crown my career by the capture
or extinction of the most dangerous and capable criminal in
Europe.
I shall be brief, and yet exact, in the little which remains
for me to tell. It is not a subject on which I would willingly
dwell, and yet I am conscious that a duty devolves upon me
to omit no detail.
It was on the 3d of May that we reached the little village
of Meiringen, where we put up at the Englischer Hof, then
kept by Peter Steiler the elder. Our landlord was an intelli-
gent man, and spoke excellent English, having served for
three years as waiter at the Grosvenor Hotel in London. At
his advice, on the afternoon of the 4th we set off together,
with the intention of crossing the hills and spending the night
at the hamlet of Rosenlaui. We had strict injunctions, how-
ever, on no account to pass the falls of Reichenbach, which
are about half-way up the hill, without making a small détour
to see them.


256
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
panion while I returned to Meiringen. My friend would stay
some little time at the fall, he said, and would then walk
slowly over the hill to Rosenlaui, where I was to rejoin him
in the evening. As I turned away I saw Holmes, with his
back against a rock and his arms folded, gazing down at the
rush of the waters. It was the last that I was ever destined
to see of him in this world.
When I was near the bottom of the descent I looked back.
It was impossible, from that position, to see the fall, but I
could see the curving path which winds over the shoulder of
the hill and leads to it. Along this a man was, I remember,
walking very rapidly.
I could see his black figure clearly outlined against the
green behind him. I noted him, and the energy with which
he walked, but he passed from my mind again as I hurried on
upon my errand.
It may have been a little over an hour before I reached
Meiringen. Old Steiler was standing at the porch of his
hotel.
“Well,” said I, as I came hurrying up, “I trust that she is
no worse ?”
A look of surprise passed over his face, and at the first
quiver of his eyebrows my heart turned to lead in my breast.
“You did not write this ?” I said, pulling the letter from
my pocket. “There is no sick Englishwoman in the hotel?”
"Certainly not!” he cried. “But it has the hotel mark
upon it! Ha, it must have been written by that tall English-
man who came in after
you
had
He said"
But I waited for none of the landlord's explanations. In a
tingle of fear I was already running down the village street,
and making for the path which I had so lately descended. It
had taken me an hour to come down. For all my efforts
two more had passed before I found myself at the fall of
Reichenbach once more. There was Holmes's Alpine-stock
still leaning against the rock by which I had left him. But
there was no sign of him, and it was in vain that I shouted.
gone.


258
MEMOIRS OF SHERLOCK HOLMES
had lain fluttered down on to the ground. Unfolding it, I found
that it consisted of three pages torn from his note-book and
addressed to me. It was characteristic of the man that the
direction was as precise, and the writing as firm and clear, as
though it had been written in his study.
“My dear Watson,” it said, “I write these few lines through
the courtesy of Mr. Moriarty, who awaits my convenience for
the final discussion of those questions which lie between us.
He has been giving me a sketch of the methods by which he
avoided the English police and kept himself informed of our
movements. They certainly confirm the very high opinion
which I had formed of his abilities. I am pleased to think
that I shall be able to free society from any further effects of
his presence, though I fear that it is at a cost which will give
pain to my friends, and especially, my dear Watson, to you.
I have already explained to you, however, that my career had
in any case reached its crisis, and that no possible conclusion
to it could be more congenial to me than this. Indeed, if I
may make a full confession to you, I was quite convinced that
the letter from Meiringen was a hoax, and I allowed you to
depart on that errand under the persuasion that some develop-
ment of this sort would follow. Tell Inspector Patterson that
the papers which he needs to convict the gang are in pigeon-
hole M., done up in a blue envelope and inscribed `Moriarty."
I made every disposition of my property before leaving Eng-
land, and handed it to my brother Mycroft. Pray give my
greetings to Mrs. Watson, and believe me to be, my dear
fellow,
Very sincerely yours,
“SHERLOCK HOLMES."
A few words may suffice to tell the little that remains. An
examination by experts leaves little doubt that a personal con-
test between the two men ended, as it could hardly fail to end
in such a situation, in their reeling over, locked in each other's
Any attempt at recovering the bodies was absolutely
arms.


THE FINAL PROBLEM
259
hopeless, and there, deep down in that dreadful caldron of
swirling water and seething foam, will lie for all time the most
dangerous criminal and the foremost champion of the law of
their generation. The Swiss youth was never found again,
and there can be no doubt that he was one of the numerous
agents whom Moriarty kept in his employ. As to the gang, it
will be within the memory of the public how completely the
evidence which Holmes had accumulated exposed their organ-
ization, and how heavily the hand of the dead man weighed
upon them. Of their terrible chief few details came out dur-
ing the proceedings, and if I have now heen compelled to make
a clear statement of his career, it is due to those injudicious
champions who have endeavored to clear his memory by
attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the
wisest man whom I have ever known.
THE END





Popular
Copyright Books
At Moderate Prices
Any of the following titlos can be bought of your Book-
seller at the price you paid for this volume
THE CONQUEST OF CANAAN
THE
Booth Tarkington
LIN MCLEAN
Owen Wister
THE PRINCESS PASSES
C. N. & A. M. Williamson
THE MARATHON MYSTERY
Burton Egbert Stevenson
THE HOLLADAY CASE
Burton Egbert Stevenson
.
MY FRIEND THE CHAUFFEUR, C. N. & A. M. Williamson
CARDIGAN
Robert W. Chambers
PARTNERS OF THE TIDE
Joseph C. Lincoln
EXPLOITS OF BRIGADIER GERARD
A. Conan Doyle
THE MAN FROM RED KEG
Eugene Thwing
MYSTERY OF JUNE 13th
Melvin L. Severy
.
THE SUNSET TRAIL
Alfred Henry Lewis
.
THE WOMAN IN THE ALCOVE
Anna Katharine Green
THE INDIFFERENCE OF JULIET
Grace S. Richmond
THE MISSOURIAN
Eugene P, Lyle, Jr.


Good Fiction Worth Reading.
A series of romances containing several of the old favorites in the field
of historical fiction, replete with powerful romances of lovo and diplomacy
that exoel in thrilling and absorbing interest.
DARNLEY. A Ronance of the times of Henry VIII. and Cardinal Wolsey.
By G. P. R. James. Cloth, samo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis.
Price, $1.00.
In point of publication, "Darnley" is that work by Mr. James which
follows "Richelieu," and, if rumor can be credited, it was owing to the ad-
vice and insistence of our own Washington Irving that we are indebted
primarily for the story, the young author questioning whether he could
properly paint the difference in the characters of the two great cardinals.
And it is not surprising that James should have hesitated; he had been
eminently successful in giving to the world the portrait of Richelieu as a
man, and by attempting a similar task with Wolsey as the theme, was
much like tempting fortune. Irving insisted that "Darnley'' came natur-
ally in sequence, and this opinion being supported by Sir Walter Scott,
the author set about the work.
As a historical romance “Darnley' is a book that can be taken up
pleasurably again and again, for there is about it that subtle charm which
those who are strangers to the works of G. P. R. James have claimed was
only to be imparted by Dumas.
If there was nothing more about the work to attract especial attention,
the account of the meeting of the kings on the historic "field of the cloth of
gold” would entitle the story to the most favorable consideration of every
reader.
There is really but little pure romance in this story, for the author has
taken care to imagine love passages only between those whom history has
credited with having entertained the teuder passion one for another, and
he succeeds in making such lovers as all the world must love.
CAPTAIN BRAND, OF THE SCHOONER CENTIPEDE. By Lieut.
Henry A. Wise, U.S. N. (Harry Gringo). Cloth, tamo. with four illustra-
tions by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.
The re-publication of this story will please those lovers of sea yarns
who delight in so much of the salty flavor of the ocean as can come through
the medium of a printed page, for never has a story of the sea and those
"who go down in ships'' been written by one more familiar with the scenes
depicted.
The one book of this gifted author which is best remembered, and which
will be read with pleasure for many years to come, is "Captain Brand,"
who, as the author states on his title page, was a "pirate of eminence in
the West Indies." As a sea story pure and simple, "Captain Brand" has
never been excelled, and as a story of piratical life, told without the usual
embellishments of blood and thunder, it has no equal.
NICK OF THE WOODS. A story of the Early Settlers of Kentucky. By
Robert Montgomery Bird. Cloth, samo. with four illustrations by J. Watson
Davis. Price, $1.00.
This most popular novel and thrilling story of early frontier life in
Kentucky was originally published in the year 1837. The novel, long out of
print, had in its day a phenomenal sale, for its realistic presentation of
Indian and frontier life in the early days of settlement in the South, nar-
rated in the tale with all the art of a practiced writer. A very, charming
love romance runs through the story. This new and tasteful edition of
*Nick of the Woods'' will be certain to make many new admirers for
this enchanting story from Dr. Bird's clever and versatile pen.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the pub
lishers, A, L. BURT COMPANY, 52-58 Duane St., New York,


Good Fiction Worth Reading.
A series of romances containing several of the old favorites in the field
of historical fiction, replete with powerful romances of love and diplomacy
that excel in thrilling and absorbing interest.
GUY FAWKES. A Romance of the Gunpowder Treason. By Wm. Harri-
son Ainsworth. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by George Cruikshank.
Price, $1.00.
The "Gunpowder Plot" was a modest attempt to blow up Parliament,
the King and his Counsellors. James of Scotland, then King of England,
was weak-minded and extravagant. He hit upon the efficient scheme of
extorting money from the people by imposing taxes on the Catholics. In
their natural resentment to this extortion, a handful of bold spirits con-
cluded to overthrow the government. Finally the plotters were arrested,
and the King put to torture Guy Fawkes and the other prisoners with
royal vigor. A very intense love story runs through the entire romance.
THE SPIRIT OF THE BORDER. A Romance of the Early Settlers in the
Ohio Valley. By Zane Grey. Cloth. 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson
Davis. Price, $1.00.
A book rather out of the ordinary is this "Spirit of the Border." The
main thread of the story has to do with the work of the Moravian mis-
sionaries in the Ohio Valley. Incidentally the reader is given details of the
frontier life of those hardy pioneers who broke the wilderness for the plant-
ing of this great nation. Chief among these, as a matter of course, is
Lewis Wetzel, one of the most peculiar, and at the same time the most
admirable of all the brave men who spent their lives battling with the
savage foe, that others might dwell in comparative security.
Details of the establishment and destruction of the Moravian “Village
of Peace" are given at some length, and with minute description. The
efforts to Christianize the Indians are described as they never have been
before, and the author has depicted the characters of the leaders of the
several Indian tribes with great care, which of itself will be of interest to
the student.
By no means least among the charms of the story are the vivíd word-
pictures of the thrilling adventures, and the intense paintings of the beau-
ties of nature, as seen in the almost unbroken forests.
It is the spirit of the frontier which is described, and one can by it,
perhaps, the better understand why men, and women, too, willingly braved
every privation and danger that the westward progress of the star of em-
pire might be the more certain and rapid. A love story, simple and tender,
runs through the book.
RICHELIEU. A tale of France in the reign of King Louis XIII. By G. P.
R. James. Cloth, 12mo. with four illustrations by J. Watson Davis. Price, $1.00.
In 1829 Mr. James published his first romance,"Richelieu," and was
recognized at once as one of the masters of the craft.
In this book he laid the story during those later days of the great car-
dinal's life, when his power was beginning to wane, but while it was
yet sufficiently strong to permit now and then of volcanic outbursts which
overwhelmed foes and carried friends to the topmost wave of prosperity.
One of the most striking portions of the story is that of Cinq Mar's conspir-
acy; the method of conducting criminal cases, and the political trickery
resorted to by royal favorites, affording a better insight into the state-
craft of that day than can be had even by an exhaustive study of history.
It is a powerful romance of love and diplomacy, and in point of thrilling
and absorbing interest has never been excelled.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the pub-
lishers, A. L. BURT COMPANY, 52-58 Duane St., New York,


BURT'S SERIES of STANDARD FICTION.
TICONDEROGA: A Story of Early Frontier Life in the Mohawk Valley,
By G. P. R. James. Cloth, izmo, with four page illustrations by J. Watson
Davis. Price, $1.00.
The setting of the story is decidedly more picturesque than any ever
evolved by Cooper: The frontier of New York State, where dwelt an English
gentleman, driven from his native home by grief over the loss of his wife,
with a son and daughter. Thither, brought by the exigencies of war, comes
an English officer, who is readily recognized as that Lord Howe who met his
death at Ticonderoga. As a most natural sequence, even amid the hostile
demonstrations of both French and Indians, Lord Howe and the young girl
find time to make most deliciously sweet love, and the son of the recluse has
already lost his heart to the daughter of a great sachem, a dusky maiden
whose warrior-father has surrounded her with all the comforts of a civilized
life.
The character of Captain Brooks, who voluntarily decides to sacrifice bis
own life in order to save the son of the Englishman, is not among the least
of the attractions of this story, which holds the attention of the reader even
to the last page. The tribal laws and folk lore of the different tribes of
Indians known as the "Five Nations," with which the story is interspersed,
shows that the author gave no small amount of study to the work in question,
and nowhere else is it shown more plainly than by the skilful manner in
which he bas interwoven with his plot the "blood" law, which demands a
life for a life, whether it be that of the murderer or one of his race.
A more charming story of mingled love and adventure has never been
written than "Ticonderoga."
ROB OF THE BOWL : A Story of the Early Days of Maryland. By Joha
P. Kennedy. Cloth, izmo, with four page illustrations by J. Watson Davis.
Price, $1.00
It was while he was a member of Congress from Maryland that the
noted statesman wrote this story regarding the early þistory of his native
State, and while some critics are inclined to consider "Horse Shoe Robinson"
ag the best of his works, it is certain that "Rob of the Bowl” stands at the
bead of the list as a literary production and an authentic exposition of the
manners and customs during Lord Baltimore's rule. The greater portion of
the action takes place in St. Mary's the original capital of the State.
As a series of pictures of early colonial life in Maryland, “Rob of the
Bowl" has no equal, and the book, having been written by one who had
exceptional facilities for gathering material concerning the individual mem-
bers of the settlements in and about St. Mary's, is a most valuable addition
to the history of the State.
The story is full of splendid action, with a charming love story, and a
plot that never loosens the grip of its interest to its last page.
BY BERWEN BANKS. By Allen Raine.
It is a tender and beautiful romance of the idyllic. A charming picture
of life in a Welsh seaside village. It is something of a prose-poem, true,
tender and graceful.
IN DEFIANCE OF THE KING. A romance of the American Revolution.
By Chauncey C, Hotchkiss, Cloth, 12mo, with four illustrations by J. Watson
Davis. Price, $1.00.
The story opens in the month of April, 1775, with the provincial troops
hurrying to the defense of Lexington and Concord. Mr. Hotchkiss has etched
in burning words a story of Yankee bravery and true love that thrills from
beginning to end with the spirit of the Revolution. The heart beats quickly,
and we teel ourselves taking a part in the exciting scenes described. You
lay the book aside with the feeling that you have seen a gloriously true
picture of the Revolution. His whole story is so absorbing that you will sit
up far into the night to finish it. As a love romance it is cbarming.


BURT'S HOME LIBRARY. Cloth. Gilt Tops. Price, $1.00
Abbe Constantin, BY LUDOVIC
HALEVY.
Abbott, By Sir Walter Scott.
Adam Bede. By GEORGE ELIOT.
Addison's Essays. EDITED BY JOHN
RICHARD GREEN.
Aeneid of Virgil. TRANSLATED B!
JOHN CONNINGTON.
Aesop's Fables.
Alexander, the Great, Life of. By
JOHN WILLIAMS.
Alfred, the Great, Life of. BY THOMAS
HUGHES.
Alhambra. By WASHINGTON IRVING.
Alice in Wonderland, and Through the
Looking-Glass. By Lewis CARROLL
Alice Lorraine. By R. D. BLACKMORE
All Sorts and Conditions of Men. By
WALTER BESANT.
Alton Locke. BY CHARLES KINGSLEY.
Amiel's Journal. TRANSLATED BY
MRS. HUMPHREY WARD.
Andersen's Fairy Tales.
Anne of Geirstein. BY SIR WALTER
Scott.
Antiquary. By Sir WALTER Scott.
Arabian Nights' Entertainments.
Ardath. By MARIE CORELLI.
Arnold, Benedict, Life of. BY GEORGE
CANNING HILI..
Arnold's Poems. By MATTHEW
ARNOLD.
Around the World in the Yacht Sun-
beam. BY MRS. BRASSEY.
Arundel Motto. By MARY CECIL
HAY. .
At the Back of the North Wind. By
GEORGE MACDONALD.
Attic Philosopher. By Emile Sou-
VESTRE.
Auld Licht Idylls. BY JAMES M.
BARRIE.
Aunt Diana. By Rosa N. CAREY.
Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin.
Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. By
O. W. HOLMES.
Averil. By Rosa N. CAREY.
Bacon's Essays. BY FRANCIS BACON.
Barbara Heathcote's Trial, By Rosa
N. CARBY.
Barnaby Rudge. By CHARLES Dick.
ENS.
Barrack Room Ballads. BY RUDYARD
KIPLING,
'Betrothed. BY SIR Walter Scott.
Beulah. By AUGUSTA J. EVANS.
Black Beauty, BY ANNA SEWALL.
Black Dwarf. By Sir WALTER
Scott.
Black Rock. BY RALPH CONNOR.
Black Tulip. BY ALEXANDRE DUMAS.
Bleak House. By CHARLES DICKENS.
Blithedale Romance, BY NATHANIEL
HAWTHORNE.
Bondman. By HALL CAINE.
Book of Golden Deeds. BY CHAR-
LOTTE M. YONGE.
Boone, Daniel, Life of. By Cecil B.
HARTLEY
Bride of Lammermoor. By Sor
WALTER Scott.
Bride of the Nile. By George EBERS,
Browning's Poems. BY ELIZABETH
BARRETT BROWNING,
Browning's Poems. (SELECTIONS.)
BY ROBERT BROWNING.
Bryant's Poems. (EARLY.) By Wille
IAM CULLEN BRYANT
Burgomaster's Wife. By GEORGE
EBERS.
Burn's Poems. By ROBERT BURNS.
By Order of the King, BY VICTOR
HUGO.
Byron's Poems. BY LORD BYRON.
Caesar, Julius, Life of.
BY JAMBI
ANTHONY FROUDE.
Carson, Kit, Life of. BY CHARLES
BURDETT.
Cary's Poems. By ALICE AND PHOEBB
CARY.
Cast Up by the Sea. By SIR SAMUEL
BAKER.
Charlemagne (Charles the Great), Life
of. By Thomas HODGKIN, D. C. L.
Charles Auchester. By E. BERGER.
Character. By SAMUEL SMILES.
Charles O'Malley. By CHARLES
LEVER.
Chesterfield's Letters. By LORD CHES-
TERFIELD.
Chevalier de Maison Rouge. By
ALEXANDRE DUMAS.
Chicot the Jester. By ALEXANDRB
DUMAS.
Children of the Abbey. By REGINA
MARIA ROCHE.
Child's History of England. By
CHARLES, DICKENS,
Christmas Stories. BY CHARLES
DICKENS.
Cloister and the Hearth. By CHARLES
READE.
Coleridge's Poems. By SAMUEL TAY.
Lor COLERIDGE.
Columbus, Christopher, Life of. By
WASHINGTON IRVING.
Companions of Jehu. BY ALEXANDRB
DUMAS.
Complete Anglar. By WALTON AND
COTTON.
Conduct of Life. By RALPH WALDO
Emerson.
Confessions of an Opium Exter. By
THOMAS DE QUINCEY.
Conquest of Granada. By WASHING
TON IRVING.
Conscript. By ERCKMANN-CHATRIAN
Conspiracy of Pontiac. BY FRANCIS
PARKMAN, JR.
Conspirators. By ALEXANDRE DU.
MAS.
Consuelo. By GEORGE SAND.
Cook's Voyages. By CAPTAIN JAMAS
Cook.
Corinne. By MADAME DE STAEL.
Countess de Charney. By ALEXANDRB
DUMAS.
Countess Gisela. By E. MARLITT.
4


BURT'S HOME LIBRARY. Cloth. Cilt Tops. Price, $1.00
Lowell's Poems. (EARLY.) BY JAMES
RUSSELL LOWELL.
Lucile. By Owen MEREDITH.
Macaria. By AUGUSTA J. EVANS.
Macaulay's Literary Essays. By T. B.
MACAULAY.
Macaulay's Poems. BY THQMAS BAB.
INGTON MACAULAY.
Madame Therese. BY ERCKMANN-
CHATRIAN.
Maggie Miller. BY MARY J. Holmes.
Magic Skin.
BY HONORE DE BALZAC.
Wahomet, Life of. BY WASHINGTON
IRVING.
Makers of Florence. By MRS. OLI.
PHANT,
Makers of Venice. By Mrs. Oli.
PHANT.
Man and Wife, BY WILKIE COLLINS.
Man in the Iron Mask. BY ALEXAN-
DRE DUMAS,
Marble Faun. BY NATHANIEL HAW.
THORNE,
Marguerite de la Valois. BY ALEX.
ANDRE DUMAS.
Marian Grey. BY MARY J. HOLMES.
Marius, The Epicurian. BY WALTER
PATER,
Marmion. (WITH Notes.) BY SIR
WALTER Scott.
Marquis of Lossie. By GEORGE
MACDONALD.
Martin Chuzziewit. BY CHARLES
DICKENS.
Mary, Queen of Scots, Life of. By
P. C. HEADLEY.
Mary St. John. By Rosa N. CAREY,
Master of Ballantrae, The By, R. L.
STEVENSON.
Masterman Ready. BY CAPTAIN MAR-
KYATT.
Meadow Brook. BY MARY J. HOLMES.
Meditations of Marcus Aurelius.
TRANSLATED BY GEORGE LONG,
Memoirs of a Physician. BY ALEXAN.
DRE DUMAS.
Merle's Crusade. By Rosa N. CAREY.
Micah Clarke. By A. CONAN DOLYE.
Michael Strogoff. BY JULES VERNE.
Middlemarch. BY GEORGE Eliot,
Midshipman Easy. By CAPTAIN MAR.
RYATT
Mildred. BY MARY J. HOLMES.
Millbank. BY MARY J. HOLMES.
Mill on the Floss. By GEORGE ELIOT.
Milton's Poems. By JOHN MILTON.
Mine Own People. ByRUDYARDKIP-
LING,
Minister's Wooing, The BY HARRIET
BEECHER STOWE.
Monastery. BY SIR WALTER Scott.
Moonstone. BY WILKIE COLLINS.
Moore's Poems. BY THOMAS MOORE
Mosses from an Old Manse, BY
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
Murders in the Rue Morgue, BY
EDGAR ALLEN POE.
Mysterious Island. BY JULES VERNE.
Napoleon Bonaparte, Life of. By P.
C. HEADLEY,
Itapoleon and His Marshals. BY j.
1. HEADLEY.
Natural Law in the Spiritual World.
By HENRY DRUMMOND.
Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym. Be
EDGAR ALLAN POE.
Nature, Addresses and Lectures. By
R. W. EMERSON.
Nellie's Memories. By Rosa N
CAREY.
Nelson, Adiniral Horatio, Life of. Bu
ROBERT SOUTHEY.
Newcomes. By WILLIAM M. THACK
ERAY
Nicholas Nickleby. BY CHAS, Dick
ENS.
Ninety-Three. By Victor Hugo.
Not Like Other Girls. BY ROSA N
CAREY.
Odyssey. POPE'S TRANSLATION.
Old Curiosity Shop. By CHARLES
DICKENS.
Old Mam'selle's Secret. By E. MAR.
LITT.
Old Mortality. By SIR WALTER
oid Myddleton's Money. By Mary
CECIL HAY.
Oliver Twist. By Chas. DICKENS.
Only the Governess. By Rosa N.
CAREY.
On the Heights. By BERTHOLD
AUERBACH.
Oregon Trail, BY FRANCIS PARK
MAN.
Origin of Species. By CHARLES
DARWIN,
Other Worlds than Ours. By Riche
ARD PROCTOR.
Our Bessie. By Rosa N. CAREY,
Our Mutual Friend. BY CHARLES
DICKENS.
Outre-Mer. By H. W. LONGFELLOW.
Owl's Nest. By E. MARLITT.
Page of the Duke of Savoy. By
ALEXANDRE DUMAS.
Pair of Blue Eyes. By THOMAS
HARDY.
Pan Michael BY HENRYK SIEN
KIEWICZ.
Past and Present. By Thos. CAR-
LYLE.
Pathfinder. By JAMES FENIMORE
COOPER,
Paul and Virginia. By B. DE ST
PIERRE.
Pendennis. History ot. BY WM, M.
THACKERÁY.
Penn, William, Life of. By W. HEP-
WORTH Dixon.
Pere Goriot. BY HONORE DE BALZAC
Peter, the Great, Life of. By John
BARROW.
Peveril of the Peak. BY SIR WALTER
Scott.
Phantom Rickshaw, The. BY RUD.
YARD KIPLING.
Philip II. of Spain, Life of. BY MAR.
TIN A, S. HUME.
Picciola. By X. B, SAINTINB,


BURT'S HOME LIBRARY. Cloth. Gilt Tops. Price, $1,00
Pickwick Papers. BY CHARLES Dick.
ENS.
Pilgrim's Progress. By John BUNYAN.
Pillar of Fire. By Rev. J. H, INGRA-
HAM.
Pilot. BY JAMES FENIMORE COOPER.
Pioneers. BY JAMES FENIMORE
COOPER.
Pirate. BY SIR WALTER Scott,
Plain Tales from the Hilis. BY RUD
YARD KIPLING.
Plato's Dialogues. TRANSLATED BY J.
WRIGHT, M. A.
Pleasures of Life. By Sir John
LUBBOCK,
Poe's Poems. By EDGAR A. Poe.
Pepe s Poems. By ALEXANDER POPz.
Prairie. BY JAMES F. COOPER,
Pride and Prejudice. By JANE AUS.
TEN.
Prince of the House of David. By
Rev. J. H. INGRAHAM.
Princess of the Moor. By E. MARLITT.
Princess of Thule. BY WILLIAM
BLACK.
Procter's Poems. BY ADELAIDE PROC-
TOR.
Professor at the Breakfast Table. By
OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.
Professor. BY CHARLOTTE BRONTE.
Prue and I. BY GEORGE WILLIAM
CURTIS.
Put Yourself in His Place. By Chas.
READE,
Putnam, General Israel, Life of By
GEORGE CANNING HILL.
Queen Hortense. By Lovisa MUHL-
BACH.
Queenie's Whim. By Rosa N. CAREY,
Queen's Necklace. By ALEXANDRE
DUMAS.
Quentin Durward. By Sir Walter
Scott.
Rasselas, History of. BY SAMUEL
JOHNSON
Redgauntlet. BY SIR WALTER Scott.
Red Rover, BY JAMES FENIMORE
COOPER.
Regent's Daughter. By ALEXANDRE
DUMAS.
Reign of Law. By DUKE OF ARGYLE.
Representative Men. BY RALPH
WALDO EMERSON.
Republic of Plato. TRANSLATED BY
DAVIES AND VAUGHAN.
Return of the Native. By THOMAS
HARDY.
Reveries of a Bachelor. By IK MAR-
VEL.
Reynard the Fox. EDITED BY JOSEPH
JACOBS.
Rienzi. By Bulwer-LYTTON.
Richelieu, Cardinal, Life of. By
RICHARD LODGE.
Robinson Crusoe. By Daniel Defoe,
Rob Roy. BY SIR WALTER SCOTT.
Romance of Natural History. By P.
H. Gosse.
Romance of Two Worlds. By MARIE
CORELL
Roinola. By GEORGE ELIOT.
Rory O'More. BY SAMUEL LOVER,
Rose Mather. BY MARY J. HOLMES.
Rossetti's Poems. BY GABRIEL DANTE
ROSSETT,
Royal Edinburgh. BY MRS. OLI-
PHANT.
Rutiedge. By MIRIAN Coles HARRIS,
Saint Michael By E. Werner.
Samantha at Saratoga. BY JOSIAą
Aller's Wife. (MARIETTA HOL,
LEY.).
Sartor Resartus. BY THOMAS CAR-
LYLE.
Scarlet Letter, BY NATHANIEL HAW-
HORNE.
Schonberg-Cotta Family. By MRS
ANDREW CHARLES.
Schopenhauer's Essays. TRANSLATED
BY T. B. SAUNDERS.
Scottish Chiefs. BY JANE PORTER.
Scott's Poems. By SIR
WALTER
Scott.
Search for Basil Lyndhurst. By
ROSA N. CAREY.
Second Wife. By E. MARLITT.
Seekers After God. By F. W. FARRAR,
Self-Help. By Samuel SMILES.
Self-Raised. (COMPLETE.) BY MRS.
E. D. E. N. SOUTHWORTH.
Seneca's Morals.
Sense and Sensibility. BY JANB
AUSTEN.
Sentimental Journey. By LAWRENCE
STERNE.
Sesame and Lilies. BY JOHN RUSKIN,
Shakespeare's Heroines. BY ANNA
JAMESON.
Shelley's Poems. By Percy BYSSHB
SHELLEY.
Shirley. BY CHARLOTTE BRONTE.
Sign of the Four. By A. CONAN
DOYLE.
Silas Marner. By GEORGE Eliot.
Silence of Dean Maitland. BY MAX
WELL GRAY.
Sir Gibbie, By GEORGE MACDONALD
Sketch Book. By WASHINGTON IRY
ING.
Smith, Captain John, Life of. By W.
GILMORE SIMMS.
Socrates, Trial and Death of. TRANS
LATED BY F. J. CHURCH, M. A.
Soldiers Three. By RUDYARD Kip
LING,
Springhaven. BY R. D. BLACKMORE
Spy. By JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Stanley, Henry M., African Explorer
Life of. BY A. MonteFIORE.
Story of an African Farm. BY OLIVE
SCHREINER.
Story of John G. Paton. TOLD FOR
YOUNG FOLKS. BY REV. JAS.
PATON.
St. Roran's Well, BY SIR WALTER
SCOTT,
Study in Scarlet. By A. CONAN
DOYLE.











ܕܪ