On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd
cases in which I
have during the last eight years studied the methods
of my friend
Sherlock Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a
large
number merely strange, but none commonplace; for,
working as
he did rather for the love of his art than for the
acquirement of
wealth, he refused to associate himself with any investigation
which did not tend towards the unusual, and even the
fantastic.
Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall
any which
presented more singular features than that which was
associated
with the well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts
of Stoke
Moran. The events in question occurred in the early
days of my
association with Holmes, when we were sharing rooms
as bache-
lors in Baker Street. It is possible that I might
have placed them
upon record before, but a promise of secrecy was made
at the
time, from which I have only been freed during the
last month
by the untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge
was given.
It is perhaps as well that the facts should now come
to light, for I
have reasons to know that there are widespread rumours
as to the
death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the
matter
even more terrible than the truth.
It was early in April in the year '83 that
I woke one morning
to find Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by
the side of
my bed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the
clock on the
mantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter-past
seven, I
blinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just
a little
resentment, for I was myself regular in my habits.
"Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said
he, "but it's the
common lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked
up,
she retorted upon me, and I on you."
"What is it, then -- a fire?"
"No; a client. It seems that a young lady has
arrived in a
considerable state of excitement, who insists upon
seeing me.
She is waiting now in the sitting-room. Now, when
young ladies
wander about the metropolis at this hour of the morning,
and
knock sleepy people up out of their beds, I presume
that it is
something very pressing which they have to communicate.
Should
it prove to be an interesting case, you would, I am
sure, wish to
follow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate,
that I should call
you and give you the chance."
"My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything."
I had no keener pleasure than in following
Holmes in his
plofessional investigations, and in admiring the rapid
deductions,
as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on
a logical basis
wlth which he unravelled the problems which were submitted
to
him. I rapidly threw on my clothes and was ready in
a few
minutes to accompany my friend down to the sitting-room.
A
lady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had
been sitting in
the window, rose as we entered.
"Good-morning, madam," said Holmes cheerily.
"My name
is Sherlock Holmes. This is my intimate friend and
associate,
Dr. Watson, before whom you can speak as freely as
before
myself. Ha! I am glad to see that Mrs. Hudson has
had the good
sense to light the fire. Pray draw up to it, and I
shall order you a
cup of hot coffee, for I observe that you are shivering."
"lt is not cold which makes me shiver," said
the woman in a
low voice, changing her seat as requested.
"What, then?"
"It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She
raised her veil as
she spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in
a pitiable
state of agitation, her face all drawn and gray, with
restless
frightened eyes, like those of some hunted animal.
Her features
and figure were those of a woman of thirty, but her
hair was shot
with premature gray, and her expression was weary
and haggard.
Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one of his quick,
all-
comprehensive glances.
"You must not fear," said he soothingly, bending
forward
and patting her forearm. "We shall soon set matters
right, I have
no doubt. You have come in by train this morning,
I see."
"You know me, then?"
"No, but I observe the second half of a return
ticket in the
palm of your left glove. You must have started early,
and yet
you had a good drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads,
before
you reached the station."
The lady gave a violent start and stared in
bewilderment at my
companion.
"There is no mystery, my dear madam," said
he, smiling.
"The left arm of your jacket is spattered with mud
in no less
than seven places. The marks are perfectly fresh.
There is no
vehicle save a dog-cart which throws up mud in that
way, and
then only when you sit on the left-hand side of the
driver."
"Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly
correct,"
said she. "I started from home before six, reached
Leatherhead
at twenty past, and came in by the first train to
Waterloo. Sir, I
can stand this strain no longer; I shall go mad if
it continues. I
have no one to turn to -- none, save only one, who
cares for me,
and he, poor fellow, can be of little aid. I have
heard of you,
Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs. Farintosh,
whom
you helped in the hour of her sore need. It was from
her that I
had your address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you
could help
me, too, and at least throw a little light through
the dense
darkness which surrounds me? At present it is out
of my power
to reward you for your services, but in a month or
six weeks I
shall be married, with the control of my own income,
and then at
least you shall not find me ungrateful."
Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it,
drew out a small
case-book, which he consulted.
"Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the
case; it was
concerned with an opal tiara. I think it was before
your time,
Watson. I can only say, madam, that I shall be happy
to devote
the same care to your case as I did to that of your
friend. As to
reward, my profession is its own reward; but you are
at liberty to
defray whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time
which
suits you best. And now I beg that you will lay before
us
everything that may help us in forming an opinion
upon the
matter."
"Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror
of my situation
lies in the fact that my fears are so vague, and my
suspicions
depend so entirely upon small points, which might
seem trivial
to another, that even he to whom of all others I have
a right to
look for help and advice looks upon all that I tell
him about it as
the fancies of a nervous woman. He does not say so,
but I can
read it from his soothing answers and averted eyes.
But I have
heard, Mr. Holmes, that you can see deeply into the
manifold
wickedness of the human heart. You may advise me how
to walk
amid the dangers which encompass me."
"I am all attention, madam."
"My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with
my stepfa-
ther, who is the last survivor of one of the oldest
Saxon families
in England, the Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western
border
of Surrey."
Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar
to me," said
he.
"The family was at one time among the richest
in England,
and the estates extended over the borders into Berkshire
in the
north, and Hampshire in the west. In the last century,
however,
four successive heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful
disposi-
tion, and the family ruin was eventually completed
by a gambler
in the days of the Regency. Nothing was left save
a few acres of
ground, and the two-hundred-year-old house, which
is itself crushed
under a heavy mortgage. The last squire dragged out
his exis-
tence there, living the horrible life of an aristocratic
pauper; but
his only son, my stepfather, seeing that he must adapt
himself to
the new conditions, obtained an advance from a relative,
which
enabled him to take a medical degree and went out
to Calcutta,
where, by his professional skill and his force of
character, he
established a large practice. In a fit of anger, however,
caused by
some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house,
he beat
his native butler to death and narrowly escaped a
capital sen-
tence. As it was, he suffered a long term of imprisonment
and
afterwards returned to England a morose and disappointed
man.
"When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my
mother, Mrs.
Stoner, the young widow of Major-General Stoner, of
the Bengal
Artillery. My sister Julia and I were twins, and we
were only
two years old at the time of my mother's re-marriage.
She had a
considerable sum of money -- not less than lOOO pounds
a year -- and
this she bequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirely while
we resided with
him, with a provision that a certain annual sum should
be
allowed to each of us in the event of our marriage.
Shortly after
our return to England my mother died -- she was killed
eight
years ago in a railway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott
then
abandoned his attempts to establish himself in practice
in London
and took us to live with him in the old ancestral
house at Stoke
Moran. The money which my mother had left was enough
for all
our wants, and there seemed to be no obstacle to our
happiness.
"But a terrible change came over our stepfather
about this
time. Instead of making friends and exchanging visits
with our
neighbours, who had at first been overjoyed to see
a Roylott of
Stoke Moran back in the old family seat, he shut himself
up in
his house and seldom came out save to indulge in ferocious
quarrels with whoever might cross his path. Violence
of temper
approaching to mania has been hereditary in the men
of the
family, and in my stepfather's case it had, I believe,
been
intensified by his long residence in the tropics.
A series of
disgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended
in the police-
court, until at last he became the terror of the village,
and the
folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man of
immense
strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger.
"Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over
a parapet into
a stream, and it was only by paying over all the money
which I
could gather together that I was able to avert another
public
exposure. He had no friends at all save the wandering
gypsies,
and he would give these vagabonds leave to encamp
upon the
few acres of bramble-covered land which represent
the family
estate, and would accept in return the hospitality
of their tents,
wandering away with them sometimes for weeks on end.
He has
a passion also for Indian animals, which are sent
over to him by
a correspondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah
and a
baboon, which wander freely over his grounds and are
feared by
the villagers almost as much as their master.
"You can imagine from what I say that my poor
sister Julia
and I had no great pleasure in our lives. No servant
would stay
with us, and for a long time we did all the work of
the house.
She was but thirty at the time of her death, and yet
her hair had
already begun to whiten, even as mine has."
"Your sister is dead, then?"
"She died just two years ago, and it is of
her death that I wish
to speak to you. You can understand that, living the
life which I
have described, we were little likely to see anyone
of our own
age and position. We had, however, an aunt, my mother's
maiden sister, Miss Honoria Westphail, who lives near
Harrow,
and we were occasionally allowed to pay short visits
at this
lady's house. Julia went there at Christmas two years
ago, and
met there a half-pay major of marines, to whom she
became
engaged. My stepfather learned of the engagement when
my
sister returned and offered no objection to the marriage;
but
wlthin a fortnight of the day which had been fixed
for the
wedding, the terrible event occurred which has deprived
me of
my only companion."
Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his
chair with his
eyes closed and his head sunk in a cushion, but he
half opened
hls lids now and glanced across at his visitor.
"Pray be precise as to details," said he.
"It is easy for me to be so, for every event
of that dreadful
time is seared into my memory. The manor-house is,
as I have
already said, very old, and only one wing is now inhabited.
The
bedrooms in this wing are on the ground floor, the
sitting-rooms
being in the central block of the buildings. Of these
bedrooms the
first is Dr. Roylott's, the second my sister's, and
the third my
own. There is no communication between them, but they
all
open out into the same corridor. Do I make myself
plain?"
"Perfectly so."
"The windows of the three rooms open out upon
the lawn. That
fatal night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early,
though we
knew that he had not retired to rest, for my sister
was troubled
by the smell of the strong Indian cigars which it
was his custom
to smoke. She left her room, therefore, and came into
mine,
where she sat for some time, chatting about her approaching
wedding. At eleven o'clock she rose to leave me, but
she paused
at the door and looked back.
" 'Tell me, Helen,' said she, 'have you ever
heard anyone
whistle in the dead of the night?'
" 'Never,' said I.
" 'I suppose that you could not possibly whistle,
yourself, in
your sleep?'
" 'Certainly not. But why?'
" 'Because during the last few nights I have
always, about
three in the morning, heard a low, clear whistle.
I am a light
sleeper, and it has awakened me. I cannot tell where
it came
from perhaps from the next room, perhaps from the
lawn. I
thought that I would just ask you whether you had
heard it.'
" 'No, I have not. It must be those wretched
gypsies in the
plantation.'
" 'Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn,
I wonder that
you did not hear it also.'
" 'Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.'
" 'Well, it is of no great consequence, at
any rate.' She
smiled back at me, closed my door, and a few moments
later I
heard her key turn in the lock."
"Indeed," said Holmes. "Was it your custom
always to lock
yourselves in at night?"
"Always."
"And why?"
"I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor
kept a cheetah
and a baboon. We had no feeling of security unless
our doors
were locked."
"Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement."
"I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling
of impending
misfortune impressed me. My sister and I, you will
recollect,
were twins, and you know how subtle are the links
which bind
two souls which are so closely allied. It was a wild
night. The
wind was howling outside, and the rain was beating
and splash-
ing against the windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbub
of the
gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified
woman. I
knew that it was my sister's voice. I sprang from
my bed,
wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor.
As I
opened my door I seemed to hear a low whistle, such
as my
sister described, and a few moments later a clanging
sound, as if
a mass of metal had fallen. As I ran down the passage,
my
sister's door was unlocked, and revolved slowly upon
its hinges.
I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowing what was
about to
issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp I
saw my sister
appear at the opening, her face blanched with terror,
her hands
groping for help, her whole figure swaying to and
fro like that of
a drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her,
but at that
moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to
the
ground. She writhed as one who is in terrible pain,
and her limbs
were dreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that
she had not
recognized me, but as I bent over her she suddenly
shrieked out
in a voice which I shall never forget, 'Oh, my God!
Helen! It
was the band! The speckled band!' There was something
else
which she would fain have said, and she stabbed with
her finger
into the air in the direction of the doctor's room,
but a fresh
convulsion seized her and choked her words. I rushed
out,
calling loudly for my stepfather, and I met him hastening
from
his room in his dressing-gown. When he reached my
sister's side
she was unconscious, and though he poured brandy down
her
throat and sent for medical aid from the village,
all efforts were
in vain, for she slowly sank and died without having
recovered
her consciousness. Such was the dreadful end of my
beloved
sister."
One moment," said Holmes, "are you sure about
this whis-
tle and metallic sound? Could you swear to it?"
"That was what the county coroner asked me
at the inquiry. It
is my strong impression that I heard it, and yet,
among the crash
of the gale and the creaking of an old house, I may
possibly have
been deceived."
"Was your sister dressed?"
"No, she was in her night-dress. In her right
hand was found
the charred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box."
"Showing that she had struck a light and looked
about her
when the alarm took place. That is important. And
what conclu-
sions did the coroner come to?"
"He investigated the case with great care,
for Dr. Roylott's
conduct had long been notorious in the county, but
he was
unable to find any satisfactory cause of death. My
evidence
showed that the door had been fastened upon the inner
side, and
the windows were blocked by old-fashioned shutters
with broad
iron bars, which were secured every night. The walls
were
carefully sounded, and were shown to be quite solid
all round,
and the flooring was also thoroughly examined, with
the same
result. The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four
large
staples. It is certain, therefore, that my sister
was quite alone
when she met her end. Besides, there were no marks
of any
violence upon her."
"How about poison?"
"The doctors examined her for it, but without
success."
"What do you think that this unfortunate lady
died of, then?"
"It is my belief that she died of pure fear
and nervous shock,
though what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine."
"Were there gypsies in the plantation at the
time?"
"Yes, there are nearly always some there."
"Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion
to a band -- a
speckled band?"
"Sometimes I have thought that it was merely
the wild talk of
delirium, sometimes that it may have referred to some
band of
people, perhaps to these very gypsies in the plantation.
I do not
know whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so many
of them
wear over their heads might have suggested the strange
adjective
which she used."
Holmes shook his head like a man who is far
from being
satisfied.
"These are very deep waters," said he; "pray
go on with your
narrative."
"Two years have passed since then, and my life
has been until
lately lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a
dear friend,
whom I have known for many years, has done me the
honour to
ask my hand in marriage. His name is Armitage -- Percy
Armitage -- the second son of Mr. Armitage, of Crane
Water,
near Reading. My stepfather has offered no opposition
to the
match, and we are to be married in the course of the
spring. Two
days ago some repairs were started in the west wing
of the
building, and my bedroom wall has been pierced, so
that I have
had to move into the chamber in which my sister died,
and to
sleep in the very bed in which she slept. Imagine,
then, my thrill
of terror when last night, as I lay awake, thinking
over her
terrible fate, I suddenly heard in the silence of
the night the low
whistle which had been the herald of her own death.
I sprang up
and lit the lamp, but nothing was to be seen in the
room. I was
too shaken to go to bed again, however, so I dressed,
and as
soon as it was daylight I slipped down, got a dog-cart
at the
Crown Inn, which is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead,
from
whence I have come on this morning with the one object
of
seeing you and asking your advice."
"You have done wisely," said my friend. "But
have you told
me all?"
"Yes, all."
"Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening
your
stepfather."
"Why, what do you mean?"
For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of
black lace which
fringed the hand that lay upon our visitor's knee.
Five little livid
spots, the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were
printed upon
the white wrist.
"You have been cruelly used," said Holmes.
The lady coloured deeply and covered over her
injured wrist.
"He is a hard man," she said, "and perhaps he hardly
knows
his own strength."
There was a long silence, during which Holmes
leaned his
chin upon his hands and stared into the crackling
fire.
"This is a very deep business," he said at
last. "There are a
thousand details which I should desire to know before
I decide
upon our course of action. Yet we have not a moment
to lose. If
we were to come to Stoke Moran to-day, would it be
possible for
us to see over these rooms without the knowledge of
your
stepfather?"
"As it happens, he spoke of coming into town
to-day upon
some most important business. It is probable that
he will be
away all day, and that there would be nothing to disturb
you. We
have a housekeeper now, but she is old and foolish,
and I could
easily get her out of the way."
"Excellent. You are not averse to this trip,
Watson?"
"By no means."
"Then we shall both come. What are you going
to do yourself?"
"I have one or two things which I would wish
to do now that I
am in town. But I shall return by the twelve o'clock
train, so as
to be there in time for your coming."
"And you may expect us early in the afternoon.
I have myself
some small business matters to attend to. Will you
not wait and
breakfast?"
"No, I must go. My heart is lightened already
since I have
confided my trouble to you. I shall look forward to
seeing you
again this afternoon." She dropped her thick black
veil over her
face and glided from the room.
"And what do you think of it all, Watson?"
asked Sherlock
Holmes, leaning back in his chair.
"It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister
business."
"Dark enough and sinister enough."
"Yet if the lady is correct in saying that
the flooring and walls
are sound, and that the door, window, and chimney
are impass-
able, then her sister must have been undoubtedly alone
when she
met her mysterious end."
"What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles,
and what
of the very peculiar words of the dying woman?"
"I cannot think."
"When you combine the ideas of whistles at
night, the pres-
ence of a band of gypsies who are on intimate terms
with this old
doctor, the fact that we have every reason to believe
that the
doctor has an interest in preventing his stepdaughter's
marriage,
the dying allusion to a band, and, finally, the fact
that Miss
Helen Stoner heard a metallic clang, which might have
been
caused by one of those metal bars that secured the
shutters
falling back into its place, I think that there is
good ground to
think that the mystery may be cleared along those
lines."
"But what, then, did the gypsies do?"
"I cannot imagine."
"I see many objections to any such theory."
"And so do I. It is precisely for that reason
that we are going
to Stoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the
objections are
fatal, or if they may be explained away. But what
in the name of
the devil!"
The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion
by the
fact that our door had been suddenly dashed open,
and that a
huge man had framed himself in the aperture. His costume
was a
peculiar mixture of the professional and of the agricultural,
having a black top-hat, a long frock-coat, and a pair
of high
gaiters, with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand.
So tall was he
that his hat actually brushed the cross bar of the-
doorway, and
his breadth seemed to span it across from side to
side. A large
face, seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow
with the
sun, and marked with every evil passion, was turned
from one to
the other of us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes,
and his high,
thin, fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance
to a
fierce old bird of prey.
"Which of you is Holmes?" asked this apparition.
"My name, sir; but you have the advantage of
me," said my
companion quietly.
"I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran."
"Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray
take a seat."
"I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter
has been
here. I have traced her. What has she been saying
to you?"
"It is a little cold for the time of the year,"
said Holmes.
"What has she been saying to you?" screamed
the old man
furiously.
"But I have heard that the crocuses promise
well," continued
my companion imperturbably.
"Ha! You put me off, do you?" said our new
visitor, taking a
step forward and shaking his hunting-crop. "I know
you, you
scoundrel! I have heard of you before. You are Holmes,
the
meddler."
My friend smiled.
"Holmes, the busybody!"
His smile broadened.
"Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!"
Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation
is most enter-
taining," said he. "When you go out close the door,
for there is
a decided draught."
"I will go when I have said my say. Don't you
dare to meddle
with my affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been
here. I traced
her! I am a dangerous man to fall foul of! See here."
He stepped
swiftly forward, seized the poker, and bent it into
a curve with
his huge brown hands.
"See that you keep yourself out of my grip,"
he snarled, and
hurling the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode
out of the
room.
"He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes,
laughing.
"I am not quite so bulky, but if he had remained I
might have
shown him that my grip was not much more feeble than
his
own." As he spoke he picked up the steel poker and,
with a
sudden effort, straightened it out again.
"Fancy his having the insolence to confound
me with the
official detective force! This incident gives zest
to our investiga-
tion, however, and I only trust that our little friend
will not
suffer from her imprudence in allowing this brute
to trace her.
And now, Watson, we shall order breakfast, and afterwards
I
shall walk down to Doctors' Commons, where I hope
to get
some data which may help us in this matter."
It was nearly one o'clock when Sherlock Holmes
returned
from his excursion. He held in his hand a sheet of
blue paper,
scrawled over with notes and figures.
"I have seen the will of the deceased wife,"
said he. "To
determine its exact meaning I have been obliged to
work out the
present prices of the investments with which it is
concerned. The
total income, which at the time of the wife's death
was little
short of 1100 pounds, is now, through the fall in
agricultural prices,
not more than 750 pounds. Each daughter can claim
an income of
250 pounds, in case of marriage. It is evident, therefore,
that if both
girls had married, this beauty would have had a mere
pittance,
while even one of them would cripple him to a very
serious
extent. My morning's work has not been wasted, since
it has
proved that he has the very strongest motives for
standing in the
way of anything of the sort. And now, Watson, this
is too
serious for dawdling, especially as the old man is
aware that we
are interesting ourselves in his affairs; so if you
are ready, we
shall call a cab and drive to Waterloo. I should be
very much
obliged if you would slip your revolver into your
pocket. An
Eley's No. 2 is an excellent argument with gentlemen
who can
twist steel pokers into knots. That and a tooth-brush
are, I think
all that we need."
At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a
train for
Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station
inn and drove
for four or five miles through the lovely Surrey laries.
It was a
perfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds
in the
heavens. The trees and wayside hedges were just throwing
out
their first green shoots, and the air was full of
the pleasant smell
of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strange
contrast
between the sweet promise of the spring and this sinister
quest
upon which we were engaged. My companion sat in the
front of
the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down over
his eyes, and
his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in the deepest
thought.
Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on the shoulder,
and
pointed over the meadows
"Look there!" said he.
A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle
slope, thick-
ening mto a grove at the highest point. From amid
the branches
there jutted out the gray gables and high roof-tree
of a very old
mansion.
"Stoke Moran?" said he.
"Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby
Roylott,"
remarked the driver.
"There is some building going on there," said
Holmes; "that
is where we are going."
"There's the village," said the driver, pointing
to a cluster of
roofs some distance to the left; "but if you want
to get to the
house, you'll find it shorter to get over this stile,
and so by the
foot-path over the fields. There it is, where the
lady is walking."
"And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner," observed
Holmes,
shading his eyes. "Yes, I think we had better do as
you suggest."
We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled
back on its way
to Leatherhead.
"I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed
the stile,
"that this fellow should think we had come here as
architects, or
on some definite business. It may stop his gossip.
Good-afternoon,
Miss Stoner. You see that we have been as good as
our word."
Our client of the morning had hurried forward
to meet us with
a face which spoke her joy. "I have been waiting so
eagerly for
you," she cried, shaking hands with us warmly. "All
has turned
out splendidly. Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and
it is unlikely
that he will be back before evening."
"We have had the pleasure of making the doctor's
acquaint-
ance," said Holmes, and in a few words he sketched
out what
had occurred. Miss Stoner turned white to the lips
as she listened.
"Good heavens!" she cried, "he has followed
me, then."
"So it appears."
"He is so cunning that I never know when I
am safe from
him. What will he say when he returns?"
"He must guard himself, for he may find that
there is some-
one more cunning than himself upon his track. You
must lock
yourself up from him to-night. If he is violent, we
shall take you
away to your aunt's at Harrow. Now, we must make the
best use
of our time, so kindly take us at once to the rooms
which we are
to examine."
The building was of gray, lichen-blotched stone,
with a high
central portion and two curving wings, like the claws
of a crab,
thrown out on each side. In one of these wings the
windows
were broken and blocked with wooden boards, while
the roof
was partly caved in, a picture of ruin. The central
portion was in
little better repair, but the right-hand block was
comparatively
modern, and the blinds in the windows, with the blue
smoke
curling up from the chimneys, showed that this was
where the
family resided. Some scaffolding had been erected
against the
end wall, and the stone-work had been broken into,
but there
were no signs of any workmen at the moment of our
visit.
Holmes walked slowly up and down the ill-trimmed lawn
and
examined with deep attention the outsides of the windows.
"This, I take it, belongs to the room in which
you used to
sleep, the centre one to your sister's, and the one
next to the
main building to Dr. Roylott's chamber?"
"Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle
one."
"Pending the alterations, as I understand.
By the way, there
does not seem to be any very pressing need for repairs
at that end
wall."
"There were none. I believe that it was an
excuse to move me
from my room."
"Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other
side of this narrow
wing runs the corridor from which these three rooms
open. There
are windows in it, of course?"
"Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to
pass
through."
"As you both locked your doors at night, your
rooms were
unapproachable from that side. Now, would you have
the kind-
ness to go into your room and bar your shutters?"
Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful
examination
through the open window, endeavoured in every way
to force the
shutter open, but without success. There was no slit
through
which a knife could be passed to raise the bar. Then
with his lens
he tested the hinges, but they were of solid iron,
built firmly into
the massive masonry. "Hum!" said he, scratching his
chin in
some perplexity, "my theory certainly presents some
difficulties.
No one could pass these shutters if they were bolted.
Well, we
shall see if the inside throws any light upon the
matter."
A small slde door led into the whitewashed
corridor from
which the three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to
examine
the third chamber, so we passed at once to the second,
that in
which Miss Stoner was now sleeping, and in which her
sister had
met with her fate. It was a homely little room, with
a low ceiling
and a gaping fireplace, after the fashion of old country-houses.
A
brown chest of drawers stood in one corner, a narrow
white-
counterpaned bed in another, and a dressing-table
on the left-hand
side of the window. These articles, with two small
wicker-work
chairs, made up all the furniture in the room save
for a square of
Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards round and
the panelling
of the walls were of brown, worm-eaten oak, so old
and
discoloured that it may have dated from the original
building of
the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner
and sat
sllent, while his eyes travelled round and round and
up and
down, taking in every detail of the apartment.
"Where does that bell communicate with?" he
asked at last
pointing to a thick belt-rope which hung down beside
the bed,
the tassel actually lying upon the pi]low.
"It goes to the housekeeper's room."
"It looks newer than the other things?"
"Yes, it was only put there a couple of years
ago."
"Your sister asked for it, I suppose?"
"No, I never heard of her using it. We used
always to get
what we wanted for ourselves."
"Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice
a bell-pull
there. You will excuse me for a few minutes while
I satisfy
myself as to this floor." He threw himself down upon
his face
with his lens in his hand and crawled swiftly backward
and
forward, examining minutely the cracks between the
boards.
Then he dld the same with the wood-work with which
the
chamber was panelled. Finally he walked over to the
bed and
spent some time in staring at it and in running his
eye up and
down the wall. Finally he took the bell-rope in his
hand and gave
it a brisk tug.
"Why, it's a dummy," said he.
"Won't it ring?"
"No, it is not even attached to a wire. This
is very interesting.
You can see now that it is fastened to a hook just
above where
the little opening for the ventilator is."
"How very absurd! I never noticed that before."
"Very strange!" muttered Holmes, pulling at
the rope. "There
are one or two very singular points about this room.
For exam-
ple, what a fool a builder must be to open a ventilator
into
another room, when, with the same trouble, he might
have
communicated with the outside air!"
"That is also quite modern," said the lady.
"Done about the same time as the bell-rope?"
remarked
Holmes.
"Yes, there were severa} little changes carried
out about that
time."
"They seem to have been of a most interesting
character --
dummy bell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate.
With
your permission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our
researches
into the inner apartment."
Dr. Grimesby Roylott's chamber was larger than
that of his
stepdaughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed,
a small
wooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical
character an
armchair beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against
the wail, a
round table, and a large iron safe were the principal
things which
met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined
each
and all of them with the keenest interest.
"What's in here?" he asked, tapping the safe.
"My stepfather's business papers."
"Oh! you have seen inside, then?"
"Only once, some years ago. I remember that
it was full of
papers."
"There isn't a cat in it, for example?"
"No. What a strange idea!"
"Well, look at this!" He took up a small saucer
of milk which
stood on the top of it.
"No; we don't keep a cat. But there is a cheetah
and a
baboon."
"Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just
a big cat, and yet
a saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying
its wants, I
daresay. There is one point which I should wish to
determine."
He squatted down in front of the wooden chair and
examined the
seat of it with the greatest attention.
"Thank you. That is quite settled," said he,
rising and putting
his lens in his pocket. "Hello! Here is something
interesting!"
The object which had caught his eye was a small
dog lash
hung on one corner of the bed. The lash, however,
was curled
upon itself and tied so as to make a loop of whipcord.
"What do you make of that, Watson?"
"It's a common enough lash. But I don't know
why if should
be tied."
"That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me!
it's a wicked
world, and when a clever man turns his brains to crime
it is the
worst of all. I think that I have seen enough now,
Miss Stoner,
and with your permission we shall walk out upon the
lawn."
I had never seen my friend's face so grim or
his brow so dark
as it was when we turned from the scene of this investigation.
We had walked several times up and down the lawn,
neither
Miss Stoner nor myself liking to break in upon his
thoughts
before he roused himself from his reverie.
"It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he,
"that you should
absolutely follow my advice in every respect."
"I shall most certainly do so."
"The matter is too serious for any hesitation.
Your life may
depend upon your compliance."
"I assure you that I am in your hands."
"In the first place, both my friend and I must
spend the night
in your room."
Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment.
"Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe
that that is the
village inn over there?"
"Yes, that is the Crown."
"Very good. Your windows would be visible from
there?"
"Certainly."
"You must confine yourself to your room, on
pretence of a
headache, when your stepfather comes back. Then when
you
hear him retire for the night, you must open the shutters
of your
window, undo the hasp, put your lamp there as a signal
to us,
and then withdraw quietly with everything which you
are likely
to want into the room which you used to occupy. I
have no doubt
that, in spite of the repairs, you could manage there
for one
night."
"Oh, yes, easily."
"The rest you will leave in our hands."
"But what will you do?"
"We shall spend the night in your room, and
we shall investi-
gate the cause of this noise which has disturbed you."
"I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already
made up your
mind," said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion's
sleeve.
"Perhaps I have."
"Then, for pity's sake, tell me what was the
cause of my
sister's death."
"I should prefer to have clearer proofs before
I speak."
"You can at least tell me whether my own thought
is correct,
and if she died from some sudden fright."
"No, I do not think so. I think that there
was probably some
more tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must
leave you
for if Dr. Roylott returned and saw us our journey
would be in
vain. Good-bye, and be brave, for if you will do what
I have told
you you may rest assured that we shall soon drive
away the
dangers that threaten you."
Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in
engaging a bed-
room and sitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were
on the upper
floor, and from our window we could command a view
of the
avenue gate, and of the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran
Manor
House. At dusk we saw Dr. Grimesby Roylott drive past,
his
huge form looming up beside the little figure of the
lad who
drove him. The boy had some slight difficulty in undoing
the
heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of
the doctor's
voice and saw the fury with which he shook his clinched
fists at
him. The trap drove on, and a few minutes later we
saw a
sudden light spring up among the trees as the lamp
was lit in one
of the sitting-rooms.
"Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat
together in
the gathering darkness, "I have really some scruples
as to taking
you to-night. There is a distinct element of danger."
"Can I be of assistance?"
"Your presence might be invaluable."
"Then I shall certainly come."
"It is very kind of you."
"You speak of danger. You have evidently seen
more in these
rooms than was visible to me."
"No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a
little more. I
imagine that you saw all that I did."
"I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope,
and what purpose
that could answer I confess is more than I can imagine."
"You saw the ventilator, too?"
"Yes, but I do not think that it is such a
very unusual thing to
have a small opening between two rooms. It was so
small that a
rat could hardly pass through."
"I knew that we should find a ventilator before
ever we came
to Stoke Moran."
"My dear Holmes!"
"Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement
she said that
her sister could smell Dr. Roylott's cigar. Now, of
course that
suggested at once that there must be a communication
between
the two rooms. It could only be a small one, or it
would have
been remarked upon at the coroner's inquiry. I deduced
a
ventilator."
"But what harm can there be in that?"
"Well, there is at least a curious coincidence
of dates. A
ventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who
sleeps in the
bed dies. Does not that strike you?"
"I cannot as yet see any connection."
"Did you observe anything very peculiar about
that bed?"
"No."
"It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever
see a bed fastened
like that before?"
"I cannot say that I have."
"The lady could not move her bed. It must always
be in the
same relative position to the ventilator and to the
rope -- or so we
may call it, since it was clearly never meant for
a bell-pull."
"Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what
you are hinting
at. We are only just in time to prevent some subtle
and horrible
crime."
"Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a
doctor does go
wrong he is the first of criminals. He has nerve and
he has
knowledge. Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads
of their
profession. This man strikes even deeper, but I think,
Watson,
that we shall be able to strike deeper still. But
we shall have
horrors enough before the night is over; for goodness'
sake let us
have a quiet pipe and turn our minds for a few hours
to some-
thing more cheerful."
* * *
About nine o'clock the light among the trees
was extinguished,
and all was dark in the direction of the Manor House.
Two hours
passed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the
stroke of
eleven, a single bright light shone out right in front
of us.
"That is our signal," said Holmes, springing
to his feet; "it
comes from the middle window."
As we passed out he exchanged a few words with
the land-
lord, explaining that we were going on a late visit
to an acquaint-
ance, and that it was possible that we might spend
the night
there. A moment later we were out on the dark road,
a chill wind
blowing in our faces, and one yellow light twinkling
in front of
us through the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.
There was little difficulty in entering the
grounds, for unre-
paired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making
our way
among the trees, we reached the lawn, crossed it,
and were about
to enter through the window when out from a clump
of laurel
bushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and
distorted
child, who threw itself upon the grass with writhing
limbs and
then ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness.
"My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?"
Holmes was for the moment as startled as I.
His hand closed
like a vise upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he
broke into a
low laugh and put his lips to my ear.
"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That
is the baboon."
I had forgotten the strange pets which the
doctor affected.
There was a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it
upon our
shoulders at any moment. I confess that I felt easier
in my mind
when, after following Holmes's example and slipping
off my
shoes, I found myself inside the bedroom. My companion
noise-
lessly closed the shutters, moved the lamp onto the
table, and
cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had seen
it in the
daytime. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet
of his
hand, he whispered into my ear again so gently that
it was all
that I could do to distinguish the words:
"The least sound would be fatal to our plans."
I nodded to show that I had heard.
"We must sit without light. He would see it
through the
ventilator."
I nodded again.
"Do not go asleep; your very life may depend
upon it. Have
your pistol ready in case we should need it. I will
sit on the side
of the bed, and you in that chair."
I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner
of the table.
Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and
this he placed
upon the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of
matches and
the stump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp,
and we
were left in darkness.
How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil?
I could not hear a
sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I
knew that my
companion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me,
in the same
state of nervous tension in which I was myself. The
shutters cut
off the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute
darkness.
From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird,
and once
at our very window a long drawn catlike whine, which
told us
that the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we
could hear
the deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out
every
quarter of an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters!
Twelve struck, and one and two and three, and still
we sat
waiting silently for whatever might befall.
Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a
light up in the
direction of the ventilator, which vanished immediately,
but was
succeeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated
metal.
Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern. I
heard a gentle
sound of movement, and then all was silent once more,
though
the smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with
straining
ears. Then suddenly another sound became audible --
a very gen-
tle, soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam
escaping
continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard
it, Holmes
sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously
with
his cane at the bell-pull.
"You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?"
But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes
struck the
light I heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden
glare flashing
into my weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell
what it was
at which my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however,
see
that his face was deadly pale and filled with horror
and loathing.-
He had ceased to strike and was gazing up at
the ventilator
when suddenly there broke from the silence of the
night the most
horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled
up louder
and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger
all mingled
in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down
in the
village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry
raised the
sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts,
and I stood
gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes
of it had
died away into the silence from which it rose.
"What can it mean?" I gasped.
"It means that it is all over," Holmes answered.
"And per-
haps, after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol,
and we will
enter Dr. Roylott's room."
With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the
way down the
corridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without
any reply
from within. Then he turned the handle and entered,
I at his
heels, with the cocked pistol in my hand.
It was a singular sight which met our eyes.
On the table stood
a dark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing
a brilliant
beam of light upon the iron safe, the door of which
was ajar.
Beside this table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby
Roylott
clad in a long gray dressing-gown, his bare ankles
protruding
beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turkish
slippers.
Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash
which we
had noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward
and his
eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the
corner of the
ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band,
with
brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly
round his
head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion.
"The band! the speckled band!" whispered Holmes.
I took a step forward. In an instant his strange
headgear began
to move, and there reared itself from among his hair
the squat
diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome
serpent.
"It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the deadliest
snake in
India. He has died within ten seconds of being bitten.
Violence
does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer
falls into
the pit which he digs for another. Let us thrust this
creature back
into its den, and we can then remove Miss Stoner to
some place
of shelter and let the county police know what has
happened."
As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead
man's lap, and throwing the noose round the reptile's
neck he
drew it from its horrid perch and, carrying it at
arm's length,
threw it into the iron safe, which he closed upon
it.
Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby
Roylott,
of Stoke Moran. It is not necessary that I should
prolong a
narrative which has already run to too great a length
by telling
how we broke the sad news to the terrified girl, how
we con-
veyed her by the morning train to the care of her
good aunt at
Harrow, of how the slow process of official inquiry
came to the
conclusion that the doctor met his fate while indiscreetly
playing
with a dangerous pet. The little which I had yet to
learn of the
case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled
back next
day.
"I had," said he, "come to an entirely erroneous
conclusion
which shows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always
is to
reason from insufficient data. The presence of the
gypsies, and
the use of the word 'band,' which was used by the
poor girl, no
doubt to explain the appearance which she had caught
a hurried
glimpse of by the light of her match, were sufficient
to put me
upon an entirely wrong scent. I can only claim the
merit that I
instantly reconsidered my position when, however,
it became
clear to me that whatever danger threatened an occupant
of the
room could not come either from the window or the
door. My
attention was speedily drawn, as I have already remarked
to you,
to this ventilator, and to the bell-rope which hung
down to the
bed. The discovery that this was a dummy, and that
the bed was
clamped to the floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion
that the
rope was there as a bridge for something passing through
the
hole and coming to the bed. The idea of a snake instantly
occurred to me, and when I coupled it with my knowledge
that
the doctor was furnished with a supply of creatures
from India, I
felt that I was probably on the right track. The idea
of using a
form of poison which could not possibly be discovered
by any
chemical test was just such a one as would occur to
a clever and
ruthless man who had had an Eastern training. The
rapidity with
which such a poison would take effect would also,
from his point
of view, be an advantage. It would be a sharp-eyed
coroner,
indeed, who could distinguish the two little dark
punctures which
would show where the poison fangs had done their work.
Then I
thought of the whistle. Of course he must recall the
snake before
the morning light revealed it to the victim. He had
trained it,
probably by the use of the milk which we saw, to return
to him
when summoned. He would put it through this ventilator
at the
hour that he thought best, with the certainty that
it would crawl
down the rope and land on the bed. It might or might
not bite the
occupant, perhaps she might escape every night for
a week, but
sooner or later she must fall a victim.
"I had come to these conclusions before ever
I had entered his
room. An inspection of his chair showed me that he
had been in
the habit of standing on it, which of course would
be necessary
in order that he should reach the ventilator. The
sight of the safe,
the saucer of milk, and the loop of whipcord were
enough to
finally dispel any doubts which may have remained.
The metallic
clang heard by Miss Stoner was obviously caused by
her stepfa-
ther hastily closing the door of his safe upon its
terrible occu-
pant. Having once made up my mind, you know the steps
which
I took in order to put the matter to the proof. I
heard the creature
hiss as I have no doubt that you did also, and I instantly
lit the
light and attacked it."
"With the result of driving it through the
ventilator."
"And also with the result of causing it to
turn upon its master
at the other side. Some of the blows of my cane came
home and
roused its snakish temper, so that it flew upon the
first person it
saw. In this way I am no doubt indirectly responsible
for Dr.
Grimesby Roylott's death, and I cannot say that it
is likely to
weigh very heavily upon my conscience." |
