Speaker 1: The Adventure of the Abbey Grange. It was on a
bitterly cold and frosty morning towards the end of the
winter of ninety seven that I was awakened by a
tugging at my shoulder. It was Holmes, the candle in
his hand, shone upon his eager, stooping face, and told
me at a glance that something was a miss. Come Watson, Come,
he cried, The game is afoot. Not a word into
your clothes and come. Ten minutes later we were both
in a cab and rattling through the silent streets on
our way to Charing Cross station. The first faint winter's
dawn was beginning to appear, and we could dimly see
the occasional figure of an early workman as he passed us,
blurred and indistinct in the opalescent London reek. Holmes nestled
in silence into his heavy coat, and I was glad
to do the same, for the air was most bitter,
and neither of us had broken our fast. It was
not until we had consumed some hot tea at the
station and taken our places in the Kentish train that
we were sufficiently thawed. He to speak and I to listen.
Holmes drew a note from his pocket and read aloud
Abbe Grange, Marsham, Kent, three thirty a m. My dear
mister Holmes, I should be very glad of your immediate
assistance in what promises to be a most remarkable case.
It is something quite in your line, except for releasing
the lady. I will see that everything is kept exactly
as I have found it. But I beg you not
to lose an instant, as it is difficult to leave.
Sir Eustace here yours faithfully, Stanley Hopkins. Hopkins has called
me in seven times, and on each occasion his summons
has been entirely justified, said Holmes. I fancy that every
one of his cases has found its way into your collection.
And I must admit, Watson, that you have some power
of selection which atones for much of which I deplay
in your narratives. Your fatal habit of looking at everything
from the point of view of a story instead of
as a scientific exercise has ruined what might have been
an instructive and even classical series of demonstrations. You slur
over work of the utmost finesse and delicacy in order
to dwell upon sensational details which may excite but cannot
possibly instruct the reader. Why do you not write them yourself?
I said, with some bitterness. I will, my dear Watson,
I will. At present. I am, as you know, fairly busy,
but I propose to devote my declining years to the
composition of a text book which shall focus the whole
art of detection into one volume. Our present research appears
to be a case of murder. You think this, Sir Eustace,
is dead, then I should say so. Hopkins's writing shows
considerable agitation, and he is not an emotional man. Yes,
I gather there has been some violence, and that the
body is left for our inspection. A mere suicide would
not have caused him to send for me. As to
the release of the lady, it would appear that she
has been locked in her room during the tragedy. We
are moving in high life, Watson, crackling paper E B monogram,
coat of arms, picturesque address. I think that friend Hopkins
will live up to his reputation, and that we shall
have an interesting morning. The crime was committed before twelve
last night. How can you possibly tell by an inspection
of the trains, and by reckoning the time the local
police had to be called in. They had to communicate
with Scotland Yard Hopkins had to go out, and he
in turn had to send for me. All that makes
a fair night's work. Well, here we are at Chiselhurst station,
and we shall soon set our doubts at rest. A
drive of a couple of miles through narrow country lanes
brought us to a park gate, which was opened for
us by an old lodge keeper, whose haggard face bore
the reflection of some great disaster. The avenue ran through
a noble park, between lines of ancient elms, and ended
in a low, widespread house pillared in front after the
fashion of palladio. The central part was evidently of a
great age and shrouded in ivy, but the large windows
showed that modern changes had been carried out, and one
wing of the house appeared to be entirely new. The
youthful figure and alert, eager face of Inspector Stanley Hopkins
confronted us in the open doorway. I'm very glad you've come,
mister Olmes, and you too, doctor Watson. But indeed, if
i'd my time over again, I should not have troubled you,
for since the ladies come to herself, she has given
so clear an account of the affair that there's not
much left for us to do. You remember that Lewisham
gang of burglars. What the three Randalls eggs? Exactly? The
father and two sons. It's their work. I've no doubt
of it. They did a job at Sydenham a fortnight
ago and were seen and described rather cool to do
another so soon and so near. But it is they,
beyond all doubt. It's a hanging matter this time. Sir
Eustace is dead then, yes, his head was knocked in
with his own poker. Sir Eustace Brackenstall, the driver tells
me exactly one of the richest men in Kent. Lady
Brackenstall is in the morning room. Poor lady, she has
had a most dreadful experience. She seemed alf dead when
I first saw her. I think you'd best see her
and hear her account of the facts. Then we'll examine
the dining room together. Lady Brackenstall was no ordinary person.
Seldom have I seen so graceful a figure, so womanly
a presence, and so beautiful a face. She was a blonde,
golden haired, blue eyed, and would no doubt have had
the perfect complexion which goes with such coloring, had not
her recent experience left her drawn and haggard. Her sufferings
were physical as well as mental. For over one eye
rose a hideous plum colored swelling, which her maid, a tall,
austeel woman, was bathing assiduously with vinegar and water. The
lady lay back, exhausted upon her couch, but her quick
observant gaze as we entered the room, and the alert
expression of her beautiful features, showed that neither her wits
nor her courage had been shaken by her terrible experience.
She was enveloped in a loose dressing gown of blue
and silver, but a black sequin covered dinner dress lay
upon the couch beside her. I have told you all
that happened, mister Hopkins, she said, wearily. Could you not
repeat it for me? Well, if you think it necessary,
I will tell these gentlemen what occurred? Have they been
in the dining room yet? Ah? Thought? They are bettery
your Ladyship's story. First, I shall be glad when you
can arrange matters it is horrible to me to think
of him still lying there. She shuddered and buried her
face in her hands. As she did so, the loose
gown fell back from her forearms. Holmes uttered an exclamation,
you have other injuries, madam? What is this? Two vivid
red spots stood out on one of the white round limbs.
She hastily covered it. It is nothing. It has no
connection with this hideous business to night. If you and
your friend will sit down, I will tell you all
I can. I am the wife of Sir Eusta Sprackenstall.
I have been married about a year. I suppose that
it is no use my attempting to conceal that our
marriage has not been a happy one. I fear that
all our neighbors would tell you that even if I
were to attempt to deny it. Perhaps the fault may
be partly mine. I was brought up in the freer,
less conventional atmosphere of South Australia, and this English life,
with its proprieties and its primness, is not congenial to me.
But the main reason lies in the one fact which
is notorious to everyone, and that is that Sir Eustace
was a confirmed drunkard. To be with such a man
for an hour is unpleasant. Can you imagine what it
means for a sensitive and high spirited woman to be
tied to him for day and night. It is a sacrilege,
a crime, a villainy to hold that such a marriage
is binding. I say that these monstrous laws of yours
will bring a curse upon the land. God will not
let such wickedness endure for an instant. She sat up,
her cheeks flushed and her eyes blazing from under the
terrible mark upon her brow. Then she strong soothing hand
of the austere maid, drew her head down onto the cushion,
and the wild anger died away into passionate sobbing. At last,
she continued, I will tell you about last night. You
are aware, perhaps, that in this house all the servants
sleep in the modern wing. This central block is made
up of the dwelling rooms, with the kitchen behind and
our bedroom above. My maid Teresa sleeps above my room.
There is no one else, and no sound could alarm
those who are in the farther wing. This must have
been well known to the robbers, or they would not
have acted as they did. Sir Eustace retired about half
past ten. The servants had already gone to their quarters.
Only my maid was up, and she had remained in
her room at the top of the house until I
needed her services. I sat until after eleven in this room,
absorbed in a book. Then I walked round to see
that all was right before I went upstairs. It was
my custom to do this myself, for, as I have explained,
Sir Eustace was not always to be trusted. I went
into the kitchen, the butler's pantry, the gun room, the
billiard room, the drawing room, and finally the dining room.
As I approached the window, which is covered with thick curtains,
I suddenly felt the wind blow upon my face and
realized that it was open. I flung the curtain side
and found myself face to face with a broad shouldered,
elderly man who had just stepped into the room. The
window is a long French one which really forms a
door leading to the lawn. I held my bedroom candle
lit in my hand, and by its light behind the
first man, I saw two others who were in the
act of entering. I stepped back, but the fellow was
on me in an instant he caught me first by
the wrist and then by the throat. I opened my
mouth to scream, but he struck me a savage blow
with his fist over the eye, and felled me to
the ground. I must have been unconscious for a few minutes,
for when I came to myself, I found that they
had torn down the bell rope and had secured me
tightly to the oaken chair which stands at the head
of the dining room table. I was so firmly bound
that I could not move, and a handkerchief round my
mouth prevented me from uttering a sound. It was at
this instant that my unfortunate husband entered the room. He
had evidently heard some suspicious sounds, and he came prepared
for such a scene as he found. He was dressed
in night shirt and trousers, with his favorite blackthorn cudgel
in his hand. He rushed at the burglars, but another
it was an elderly man, stooped, picked the poker out
of the grate and struck him a horrible blow. As
he passed. He fell with a groan and never moved again.
I fainted once more, but again it could only have
been for a very few minutes, during which I was insensible.
When I opened my eyes, I found that they had
collected the silver from the sideboard, and they had drawn
a bottle of wine, which stood there. Each of them
had a glass in his hand. I have already told you,
have I not? That one was elderly with a beard,
and the others young hairless lads. They might have been
a father with his two sons. They talked together in whispers.
Then they came over and made sure that I was
securely bound. Finally they withdrew, closing the window after them.
It was quite a quarter of an hour before I
got my mouth free. When I did so, my screams
brought the maid to my assistance. The other servants were
soon alarmed, and we sent for the local police, who
instantly communicated with London. That is really all that I
can tell you, gentlemen, and I trust that it will
not be necessary for me to go over so painful
a story again. Any questions, mister Elmes asked Hopkins. I
will not impose any further tax upon Lady Brackenstall's patience
and time, said Holmes. Before I go into the dining room,
I should like to hear your experience. He looked at
the maid. I saw the man before ever they came
into the house, said she. As I sat by my
bedroom window, I saw three men in the moonlight down
by the lodge gate yonder, but I thought nothing of
it at the time. Was more than an hour after
that I heard my mistress scream, and down I ran
to find her, poor lamb, just as she says, and
him on the floor, with his blood and brains over
the room. It was enough to drive a woman out
of her wits tied there a her very dress spotted
with him. She never wanted courage, did Miss Mary Fraser
of Adelaide, and Lady Brackenstall of Abbey Grange hasn't learned
new ways. You've questioned her long enough, you gentlemen. And
now she's coming to her own room, just with her
old Teresa, to get the rest that she badly needs.
With a motherly tenderness, the gaunt woman put her arm
round her mistress and led her from the room. She's
been with her all her life, said Hopkins. Nursed her
as a baby and came with her to England. When
they first left Australia eighteen months ago. Teresa, write is
her name, and the kinder maid you don't pick up nowadays?
This way, mister Elmes, if you please. The keen interest
had passed out of Holmes's expressive face, and I knew
that with the mystery all the charm of the case
had departed. There still remained an arrest to be effected.
But what were these commonplace rogues that he should soil
his hands with them? An abstruse and learned specialist who
finds that he has been called in for a case
of measles would experience something of the annoyance which I
read in my friend's eyes. Yet the scene in the
dining room of the abbey Grange was sufficiently strange to
arrest his attention and to recall his waning interest. It
was a very large and high chamber, with carved oak ceiling,
oaken paneling, and a fine array of deer's heads and
an weapons around the walls. At the further end from
the door was the high French window of which we
had heard. Three smaller windows on the right hand side
filled the apartment with cold winter sunshine. On the left
was a large, deep fireplace with a massive overhanging oak mantelpiece.
Beside the fireplace was a heavy oaken chair with arms
and cross bars at the bottom. In and out through
the open woodwork was woven of crimson cord, which was
secured at each side to the cross piece below. In
releasing the lady, the cord had been slipped off her,
but the knots with which it had been secured still remained.
These details only struck our attention afterwards, for our thoughts
were entirely absorbed by the terrible object which lay upon
the tiger skin hearth rug in front of the fire.
It was the body of a tall, well made man
about forty years of age. He lay upon his back,
his face face upturned, with his white teeth grinning through
his short black beard. His two clenched hands were raised
above his head, and a heavy blackthorn stick lay across them.
His dark, handsome, aquiline features were convulsed into a spasm
of vindictive hatred, which had set his stad face in
a terribly fiendish expression. He'd evently been in his bed
when the alarm had broken out, for he wore a
foppish embroidered night shirt, and his bare feet projected from
his trousers. His head was horribly injured, and the whole
room bore witness to the savage ferocity of the blow
which had struck him down. Beside him lay the heavy poker,
bent into a curve by the concussion. Holmes examined both
it and the indescribable wreck which it had wrought. He
must be a powerful man, this elder Randall, he remarked, Yes,
said Hopkins. I have some record of the fellow, and
he's a rough customer. You should have no difficulty in
getting him, not the slict. We've been on the lookout
for him, and there was some idea that he got
away to America. Now that we know that the ganger ear,
I don't see how they can escape. We have the
news at every seaport already, and a reward will be
offered before evening. What beats me is how they could
have done so mad a thing. Knowing that the lady
could describe them, and that we could not fail to
recognize a description exactly, one would have expected that they
would silence Lady Brackenstall as well. They may not have
realized I suggested that she'd recover from her faint. That
is likely enough if she seemed to be senseless. They
would not take her life. What about this poor fellow Hopkins.
I seem to have heard some queer stories about him.
He was a good eyed man when he was sober,
but a perfect fiend when he was drunk, or rather
when he was half drunk, for he seldom really went
the old way. The devil seemed to be in him
at such times, and he was capable of anything from
what our ear. In spite of all his wealth and
his title, he very nearly came our way. Once or twice.
There was a scandal about his drenching a dog with
petroleum and setting it on fire, her Ladyship's dog, to
make the mau worse, and that was only ushed up
with difficulty. Then he threw a decanter at the maid,
Teresa Wright. There was trouble about that on the owl,
and between ourselves it would be a brighter house without him.
What are you looking at now? Holmes was down on
his knees, examining with great attention the knots upon the
red cord with which the lady had been secured. Then
he carefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it
had snapped off when the burglar had dragged it down.
When this was pulled down, the bell in the kitchen
must have rung loudly, he remarked. No one could hear it.
The kitchen stands right at the back of the house.
How did the burglar know no one would hear it?
How dared he pull at a bell rope in that
reckless fashion? Exactly, mister Elms, Exactly you put the very
question which of ask myself again and again. There can
be no doubt that this fellow must have known the
house and its abbots. He must have perfectly understood that
the servants would all be in bed at that comparative
the early hour, and that no one could possibly hear
abel ring in the kitchen. Therefore, he must have been
in close league with one of the servants. Surely that
is evident. But there are eight servants, and all of
them good character, other things being equal, said Holmes, one
would expect the one at whose head the master threw
a decanter, And yet that would involve treachery towards the mistress,
to whom the woman seems devoted. Well, well, the point
is a minor one. And when you have Randall you
will find no difficulty in securing his accomplice. The ladys
saory certainly seems to be corroborated if it needed cooperation,
by every detail which we see before us. He walked
to the French window and threw it open. There are
no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, and
one would not expect them. I see that these candles
in the mantelpiece have been lighted. Yes, it was by
their light and that of the lady's bedroom candle that
the burglars saw their way about. And what did they take? Well,
they didn't take much, only half a dozen articles of
plate off the sideboard. Lady Brackstall thinks that they were
themselves so disturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that
they didn't ransack the house as they would otherwise have done.
No doubt that is true. And yet they drank some wine.
I understand, who steady their nerves? Exactly? These three glasses
upon the sideboard untouched, I suppose, yes, And the bottle
stands as I left it. Let us look at it? Hello, Hello,
what is this? The three glasses were grouped together, all
of them tinged with wine, and one of them containing
some dregs of bee swing. The bottle stood near them,
two thirds full, and beside it lay a long, deeply
stained cork. Its appearance and the dust upon the bottle
showed that it was no common vintage which the murderers
had enjoyed. A change had come over Holmes's manner. He
had lost his listless expression, and again I saw an
alert light of interest in his keen, deep set eyes.
He raised the cork and examined it minutely. How did
they draw it? He asked? Hopkins pointed to a half
opened drawer. In it lay some table linen and a
large corkscrew. Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?
Now you remember that she was senseless at the moment
when the bottle was opened. Quite so, as a matter
of fact, that screw was not used. This bottle was
opened by a pocket screw, probably contained in a knife,
and not more than an inch and a half long.
If you will examine the top of the cork, you
will observe that the screw was driven in three times
before the cork was extracted. It has never been transfixed.
This long screw would have transfixed it and drawn it
up with a single pull. When you catch this fellow,
you will find that he has one of these MULTIPLEX
knives in his possession. Excellent, said Hopkins. But these glasses
do puzzle me. I confess. Lady Brackenstall actually saw the
three men drinking, did she not? Yes, she was clear
about that. Then there is an end of it. What
is to be said? And yet you must admit that
the three glasses are very remarkable, Hopkins. What you see
nothing remarkable? Well, well let it pass. Perhaps when a
man has special knowledge and special powers like my own,
it rather encourages him to seek a complex explanation when
a simpler one is at hand. Of course, it must
be a mere chance about the glasses. Well, good morning, Hopkins.
I don't see that I can be of any use
to you, and you appear to have your case very clear.
You'll let me know when Randal is arrested and any
further developments which may occur. I trust that I shall
soon have to congratulate you upon a successful conclusion. Come, Watson,
I fancy that we may employ ourselves more profitably at home.
During our return journey, I could see by Holmes's face
that he was much puzzled by something. Which he had observed.
Every now and then, by an faffort, he would throw
off the impression and talk as if the matter were clear.
But then his doubts would settle down upon him again,
and his knitted brows and abstracted eyes would show that
his thoughts had gone back once more to the great
dining room of the abbey Grange, in which this midnight
tragedy had been enacted at last, by a sudden impulse,
just as our train was crawling out of a suburban station,
he sprang onto the platform and pulled me out after him.
Excuse me, my dear fellow, said he, as we watched
the rear carriages of our train disappearing round a curve.
I am sorry to make you the victim of what
may seem a mere whim, But on my life, Watson,
I simply can't leave that case in this condition. Every
instinct that I possess cries out against it. It's wrong,
It's all wrong. I'll swear that it's wrong. And yet
the lady's story was complete, the maid's corroboration was sufficient
that he detail was fairly exact. What have I to
put up against that three wineglasses? That is all. But
if I had not taken things for granted, if I
had examined everything with the case with which I should
have shown, had we approached the case de novo and
had no cut and dried story to warp my mind,
should I not then have found something more definite to
go upon. Of course I should sit down on miss
bench Watson until a train for Chidlehurst arrives, and allow
me to lay the evidence before you, imploring you, in
the first instance, to dismiss from your mind the idea
that anything which the maid or her mistress may have
said must necessarily be true. The lady's charming personality must
not be permitted to warp our judgment. Surely there are
details in her story which, if we looked at in
cold blood, would excite our suspicion. These burglars made a
considerable haul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of
them and of their appearance was in the papers, and
would naturally occur to any one who wished to invent
a story in which imaginary robbers should play a part.
As a matter of fact, burglars who have done a
good stroke of business are, as a rule, only too
glad to enjoy the proceeds in peace and quiet without
embarking on another perilous undertaking. Again, it is unusual for
burglars to operate at so early an hour. It is
unusual for burglars to strike a lady to prevent her screaming,
since one would imagine that was the sure way to
make her scream. It is unusual for them to commit
murder when their numbers are sufficient to overpower one man.
It is unusual for them to be content with a
limited plunder when there was much more within their reach.
And finally, I should say that it was very unusual
for such men to leave a bottle half empty. How
do all these unusuals strike you, Watson? The accumulative effect
is certainly considerable, and yet each of them is quite
possible in itself. The most unusual thing of all is,
it seems to me, is that the lady should be
tied to the chair. Well, I am not so clear
about that, Watson, for it is evident that they must
either kill her or else secure her in such a
way that she could not give immediate notice of their escape.
But at any rate, I have shown, have I not?
That there is a certain element of improbability about the
lady's story. And now on the top of this comes
the incident of the wineglasses. What about the wine glasses?
Can you see them in your mind's eye? I see
them clearly. We are told that three men drank from them.
Does that strike you as likely? Why not? There was
wine in each glass exactly, but there was best only
in one glass. You must have noticed that fact. What
does that suggest to your mind? The last glass filled
will be most likely to contain beeswing, not at all.
The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable
that the first two glasses were clear and the third
heavily charged with it. There are two possible explanations, and
only two. One is that after the second glass was filled,
the bottle was violently agitated, and so the third glass
received the beeswing. That does not appear probable. No, No,
I am sure that I'm right. What, then, do you
suppose that only two glasses were used, and that the
dregs of both were poured into a third glass, so
as to give the false impression that three people had
been here. In that way, all the beeswing would be
in the last glass, would it not. Yes, I am
convinced that this is so. But if I have hit
upon the true explanation of this one small phenomenon, then
in an instant the case rises from the commonplace to
the exceedingly remarkable. For it can only mean that Lady
Brackenstall and her maid have deliberately lied to us, that
not one word of their stories to be believed, that
they have some very strong reason for covering the real criminal,
and that we must construct our case for ourselves without
any help from them. That is the mission which now
lies before us. And here Watson is the Sydenham train.
The household at the abbey Grange were much surprised at
our return. But Sherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had
gone off to report to headquarters, took possession of the
dining room, locked the door upon the inside, and devoted
himself for two hours to one of those minute and
laborious investigations which formed the solid basis on which his
brilliant edifices of deduction were reared. Seated in a corner,
like an interested student who observed the demonstration of his professor,
I followed every step of that remarkable research. The window,
the curtains, the carpet, the chair, the rope, Each in
turn was minutely examined and duly pondered. The body of
the unfortunate baronet had been removed, and all else remained
as we had seen it in the morning. Finally, to
my astonishment, Homes climbed up on to the massive mantel piece.
Far above his head hung the few inches of red cord,
which was still attached to the wire. For a long
time he gazed upward at it, and then, in an
attempt to get nearer to it, he rested his knee
upon a wooden bracket on the wall. This brought his
hand within a few inches of the broken end of
the rope. But it was not this so much as
the bracket itself which seemed to engage his attention. Finally
he sprang down with an ejaculation of satisfaction. It's all right,
Watson said he. We have got our case, one of
the most remarkable in our collection. But dear me, how
slow witted I have been, and how nearly I have
committed the blunder of my lifetime. Now I think that,
with a few missing links, my chain is almost complete.
You've got your men, man, Watson, man only one, but
a very formidable person, strong as a lion, witnessed the
blow that bent that poker, six foot three in height,
active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers, finally remarkably
quick witted. For this whole ingenious story is of his concoction. Yes, Watson,
we have come upon the handiwork of a very remarkable individual.
And yet in that bell rope he has given us
a clue which should not have left us a doubt.
Where was the clue? Well, if you were to pull
down a bell rope, Watson, where would you expect it
to break? Surely at the spot where it is attached
to the wire. Why should it break three inches from
the top, as this one has done, Because it's frayed.
There exactly, this end, which we can examine, is frayed.
He was cunning enough to do that with his knife.
But the other end is not frayed. You could not
observe that from here. But if you were on the mantelpiece,
you would see that it is cut clean off without
any mark of fraying. Whatever you can reconstruct what occurred.
The man needed the rope, He would not tear it
down for fear of giving me alarm by ringing the bell.
What did he do? He sprang up on the mantelpiece,
could not quite reach it, but his knee on the bracket.
You will see the impression in the dust, and so
got his knife to bear upon the cord. I could
not reach the place by at least three inches, from
which I infer that he is at least three inches
a bigger man than I. Look at that mark upon
the seat of the oaken chair. What is it? Blood?
Undoubtedly it is blood. This alone puts the lady's story
out of court. If she were seated on the chair
when the crime was done, how come the mark? No? No,
she was placed in the chair after the death of
her husband. Our wager that the black dress shows a
corresponding mark to this. We have not yet met our Waterloo, Watson.
But this is our marango, for it begins in defeat
and ends in victory. I should like now to have
a few words with the nurse Teresa. We must be
wary for a while if we are to get the
information which we want. She was an interesting person, this
stern Australian nurse taciturn suspicious, ungracious. It took some time before.
Holmes's pleasant manner and frank acceptance of all that she
said thawed her into a corresponding amiability. She did not
attempt to conceal her hatred for her late employer. Yes, sir,
it is true that he threw the decanter at me.
I heard him call my mistress a name, and I
told him that he should not dare speak to her
as if her brother had been there. Then it was
that he threw it at me. He might have thrown
a dozen if he but left my bonny bird alone.
He was forever ill treating her, and she too proud
to complain. She will not even tell me all that
he's done to her. She never told me of those
marks on her arm that you saw this morning, But
I know very well what they came from. A stab
with a hatin a sly devil. God forgive me that
I should speak of him so now that he's dead.
But a devil he was, if ever one walked the earth.
He was all honey when we first met him, only
eighteen months ago. We both feel as if it were
eighteen years. She'd only just arrived in London. Yes, it
was her first voyage. She'd never been from home before
he won up with his title and his money and
his false London ways. If she made a mistake, she's
paid for it. If ever a woman did. What months
did we meet him? Well, I tell you it was
just after we arrived. We arrived in June, and it
was July. We were married in January last year. Yes,
she's down in the morning room again, and I have
no doubt she'll see you. But you must not ask
too much of her, for she's gone through all that
flesh and blood will stand. Lady Brackenstall was reclining on
the same couch, but looked brighter than before. The maid
had entered with us, and began once more to ferment
the bruise upon her mistress's brow. I hope, said the lady,
that you have not come to cross examine me again. No,
Holmes answered in his gentlest voice. I will not cause
you any unnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall, and my all desire
is to make things easy for you, for I am
convinced that you are a much tried woman. If you
will treat me as a friend and trust me, you
may find that I will justify your trust. What do
you want me to do to tell me the truth,
mister Holmes. No, no, Lady Brackenstall, it is no use.
You may have heard of any little reputation which I possess.
I will stake it all on the fact that your
story is an absolute fabrication. Mistress and maid were both
staring at homes with pale faces and frightened eyes. You
are an impudent fellow, cried Teresa. Do you mean to
say that my mistress has told a lie? Holmes rose
from his chair. Have you nothing to tell me? I
have told you everything. Think once more, Lady Brackenstall, would
it not be better to be frank? For an instant
there was hesitation in her beautiful face. Then some new
strong thought caused it to set like a mask. I
have told you all I know. Holmes took his hat
and shrugged his shoulders. I am very sorry, he said,
and without another word, we left the room and the house.
There was a pond in the park, and to this
my friend led the way. It was frozen over, but
a single hole was left for the convenience of a
solitary swan. Holmes gazed at it, and then passed on
to the lodge. Gate. There he scribbled a short note
for Stanley Hopkins and left it with the lodge keeper.
It may be a hit or it may be a miss,
but we are bound to do something for friend Hopkins,
just to justify this second visit, said he. I will
not quite take him into my confidence yet. I think
our next scene of operations must be the shipping office
of the Adelaide Southampton line, which stands at the end
of Pall Mall. If I remember right, there is a
second line of steamers which connect South Australia with England.
But we will draw the larger cover first. Holmes's card
sent into the manager ensured instant attention, and he was
not long in acquiring all the information he needed. In
June of ninety five, only one of their line had
reached a home port. It was the Rock of Gibraltar,
their largest and best boat. A reference to the passenger
list showed that Miss Fraser of Adelaide with her maid,
had made the voyage in her The boat was now
somewhere south of the Sewers Canal on her way to Australia.
Her officers were the same as in ninety five, with
one exception. The first officer mister Jack Crocker had been
made a captain and was to take charge of their
new ship, the bass Rock, sailing in two days time
from Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he was likely
to be in that morning for instructions if we cared
to wait for him. No, mister Holmes had no desire
to see him, but would be glad to know more
about his record and character. His record was magnificent. There
was not an officer in the fleet to touch him
as to his character. He was reliable on duty, but
a wild, desperate fellow off the deck of his ship.
Hot headed, excitable, but loyal, honest and kind hearted. That
was the pith of the information with which Holmes left
the office of the Adelaide Southampton Company. Thence he drove
to Scotland Yard, but instead of entering, he sat in
his cab with his brows drawn down, lost in profound thought.
Finally he drove round to the charing Cross Telegraph Office,
sent off a message, and then at last we made
for Baker Street once more. No I couldn't do it,
Watson said he as we re entered our room. Once
that warrant was made out, nothing on earth would save
him once or twice in my career. I feel that
I have done more real harm by my discovery of
the criminal than ever he had done by his crime.
I have learned caution now, and I had rather play
tricks with the law of England than with my own conscience.
Let us know a little more before we act. Before evening,
we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins. Things were
not going very well with him. I believe you are
a wizard, mister Olmes. I really do sometimes think that
you have powers that are not human. Now, how on
earth could you know that the stolen silver was at
the bomb of that pond? I didn't know, but you
told me to examine it. You got it, then, yere,
I got it. I am very glad if I have
helped you, But you haven't helped me. You've made the
affair more difficult. What sort of burglars are they who
steel silver and then throw in the nearest pond. It
was certainly rather eccentric behavior. I was merely going on
the idea that if the silver had been taken by
persons who did not want it, who merely took it
for a blind as it were, and then they would
naturally be anxious to get rid of it. But why
should such an idea cross your mind? Well, I thought
it was possible. When they came out through the French window.
There was the pond with one tempting little hole in
the ice, right in front of their noses. Could there
be a better hiding place? Ah, I hide in place
that's better, cried Stomney Hopkins. Yeah, yeah, I see it
all now. It was early, there were folk upon the roads.
They were afraid of being seen with the silver, so
they sank it in the pond, intending to return for
it when the coast was clear. Excellent, mister Elmes. That's
better than your idea of a blind quite so you
have got an admirable theory. I have no doubt that
my own ideas were quite wild, but you must admit
that they have ended in discovering the silver. Yes, sir, yes,
it was all you're doing. But I've had a bad setback,
a set back, yes, mister Elams. The Randal Gang were
arrested in New York this morning. Dear me, Hopkins, that
is certainly rather against your theory that they committed a
murder in Kent last night. It is fatal, mister Elmes,
absolutely fatal. Still there are other gangs of three besides
the Randals, or it may be some new gang of
which the police have never heard. Quite so it is
perfectly possible. What are you off, Yes, mister Elmes, there's
no rest for me until I've got to the bottom
of the business. I suppose you have no hint to
give me. I have given you one, which well, I suggested,
a blind But why, mister Elms, Why Ah, that's the question,
of course. But I commend the idea to your mind.
You might possibly find that there was something in it.
You won't stop for dinner? Well, good bye, and let
us know how you get on. Dinner was over and
the table cleared before Holmes alluded to the matter again.
He had lit his pipe and held his slippered feet
to the cheerful blaze of the fire. Suddenly he looked
at his watch. I expect developments, Watson, when now within
a few minutes, I dare say you thought I acted
rather badly to Stanley Hopkins just now I trust your judgment.
A very sensible reply, Watson. You must look at it
this way. What I know is unofficial. What he knows
is official. I have the right to private judgment, but
he has none. He must disclose all or he is
a traitor to his service. In a doubtful case, I
would not put him in so painful a position, and
so I reserve my information until my own mind is
clear upon the matter. But when will that be? The
time has come. You will now be present at the
last scene of a remarkable little drama. There was a
sound upon the stairs, and our door was opened to
admit as fine a specimen of manhood as ever passed
through it. He was a very tall young man, golden mustached,
blue eyed, with a skin which had been burned by
tropical suns, and a springy step which showed that the
huge frame was as active as it was strong. He
closed the door behind him, and then he stood with
clenched hands and heaving breast, choking down some overmastering emotion.
Sit down, Captain Crocker, you got my telegram. I've got
your telegram, and ar came at the air You said,
I heard Ye've been down to the office. There has
now gotten away from you. Let's hear the worst. What
are you going to do with me? Arrest me? Speak out? Men,
you can't sit there and ply with me like a
cat with a mouse. Give him a sig a, said Holmes.
Bite on that, Captain Crocker, and don't let your nerves
run away with you. I should not sit here smoking
with you if I thought that you were a common criminal.
You may be sure of that. Be frank with me,
and we may do some good play tricks with me,
and I'll crush you. What do you wish me to
do to give me a true account of all that
happened at the abbe Grange last night? A true account,
mind you, with nothing added and nothing taken off. I
know so much already that if you go one inch
off the strait, I'll blow this police whistle from my window,
and the affair goes out of my hands forever. The
sailor thought for a little. Then he struck his leg
with his great sunburned hand. I'll chance it, he cried.
I'll believe you are a manner, your word, and a white man,
and I'll tell you the owl story. But one thing
I will say first, As far as I'm concerned, I
regret nothing, and I'll fear nothing, and I'll do it
all again and proud of the job. Damn the beast.
If he had as many lives as a cat, he'd
owe them all to me. But it's the lady Mary
Mary Fraser. For never will I call her by that
accursed name when I think of getting her into trouble. Ah,
he would give my life just to bring one must
smile to her dear face. It's that it turns my
soul into water. And yet, and yet, what less could
I do? I'll tell you my story, gentlemen, and then
I'll ask you, as man to man, what less could
I do? I must go back a bit. You seem
to know everything, so I expect that you know that
I met her when she was a passenger, and I
was first officer of the rocket Gibraltler. From the first
day I met her, she was the only woman to me.
Every day of that voyage, I loved her more, And
many a time since have I keeled down in the
darkness of the night watch and kissed the deck of
that ship because I knew her dear feet had trod
on it. She was never engaged to me. She treated
me as fairly has ever a woman treated her man.
I have no complaint to make, and was all love
on my side. And all good comradeship and the friendship
on hers. When we parted, she was a free woman.
I could never again be a free man. Next time
I came back from sea, I heard of her marriage. Well,
why shouldn't she marry him? She liked title and money?
Who could carry them better than she? She was born
for all that is beautiful and dainty. I didn't grieve
over her marriage. I was not such a selfish out
as that. I just rejoiced that good luck had come
her way, and that she'd had not thrown herself away
on a penniless sailor. That's how I loved Mary Fraser well.
I never thought to see her again. The last voyage
I was promoted, the new boat was yet launched, so
I had to wait for a couple of months with
my people at Sydenham. One day, out in a country lane,
I met Theresa Wright, her old maid. She told me
all about her, all about him, about everything. I tell you, gentlemen.
It nearly drove me mad, this drunken hound that he
should dare to raise his hand to her, whose boots
he was not worthy to lick. I met Teresa again,
Then I met Mary himself, and met her again. Then
she would meet me no more. But the other day
I hadn't noticed that I was to start in my
voyage within a week, and I determined that I would
see her once before I left. Teresa was always my friend,
for she loved Mary and ated this villain almost as
much as I did. From her, I learned the ways
of the house. Mary used to sit up reading in
her own little room downstairs. I crept round there last
night and scratched at the window. At first she would
not open to me, But in her heart I know
that now she loves me, and she could not leave me.
In the frosty night, she whispered to me to come
round to the big front window, and I found it
open before me, so as to let me into the
dining room. Again I heard from her own lips things
that made my blood boil, And again I cursed this
brute who mishandled the woman I loved. Old gentlemen, I
was standing with her just inside the window, in all innocence,
as God is my judge, when he rushed like a
madman into the room, called her the vilest name that
a man could use to a woman, and welted her
across the face with a stick he had in his hand.
I had sprung for the poker, and it was a
fair fight between us. See here on my arm where
his first blow fell. Then it was my turn, and
I went through him as if he'd been a rotten pumpkin.
Do you think I was sorry? Not I. It was
his life or mine. But far more than that, it
was his life or hers. For how could I leave
her in the power of this madman? That was how
I killed him. Was I wrong? Well, then what would
either of you, gentlemen have done if you had been
in my position? She had screamed when he struck her,
and that broad old tree, he said down from the
room above. There was a bottle of wine on the sideboard,
and I opened it and poured a little between Mary's lips,
for she was half dead with shock. Then I took
a drop myself. Teresa was as cool as ice, and
it was her plot as much as mine. We must
make it appear that burglars had done the thing. Teresa
kept on repeating our story to her mistress, while I
swarmed up and cut the rope of the bell, and
I lushed her in her chair and frayed out the
end of the rope to make it look natural, else
they would wonder how in the world a burglar could
have got there to cut it. And I gathered up
a few plates and pots of silver to carry out
the idea of the robbery, and there I left them
with orders to give the alarm. When I had a
quarter of an hour's start, I dropped the silver into
the pond and made off for Sydenham, feeling that for
once in my life I had done a real good
night's work. And that's the truth and the old truth,
mister Olmes, if it cost me my neck, homes smoked
for some time inside silence, and he crossed the room
and shook our visitor by the hand. That's what I think,
said he. I know that every word is true, for
you have hardly said a word which I did not know.
No one but an acrobat or a sailor could have
got up to that bell rope from the bracket, and
no one but a sailor could have made the knots
with which the cord was fastened to the chair. Only
once had this lady been brought into contact with sailors,
and that was on her voyage, And it was some
one of her own class of life, since she was
trying hard to shield him, and so showing that she
loved him. You see how easy it was for me
to lay my hands upon you, when once I had
started upon the right trail. Ah thought the police never
could have seen through our dodge, and the police haven't
nor will they, to the best of my belief. Now
look here, Captain Crocker, this is a very serious matter.
Though I am willing to admit that you acted under
the most extreme provocation to which any man could be subjected,
I am not sure that in defense of your own life,
your action will not be pronounced legitimate. However, that is
for a British jury to decide. Meanwhile, I have so
much sympathy for you that if you choose to disappear
in the next twenty four hours, I will promise you
that no one will hinder you, and then it will
all come out. Certainly it will come out the sailor
flushed with anger. What sort of proposal is that to
make a man? I know enough of Lord to understand
that Mary would be held as accomplice. Do you think
I would leave her alone to face the music while
I slunk away? No, sir, let them do their worst
upon me. But for Heaven's sake, mister Holmes, find some
way to keep my poor Mary out of the courts.
Holmes for a second time held out his hand to
the sailor. I was only testing you, and you ring
true every time. Well, it is a great responsibility that
I take upon myself. But I have given Hopkins an
excellent hint, and if he can't avail himself of it,
I can do no more. See here, Captain Crocker, we'll
do this in due form of law. You are the prisoner, Watson.
You are a British jury, and I never met a
man who was more eminently fitted to represent one. I
am the judge. Now, gentlemen of the jury, you have
heard the evidence. Do you find the prisoner guilty or
not guilty? Not guilty, my lord, said I vox popularly
vox day. You are acquitted, Captain Crocker. So long as
the law does not find some other victim, you are
safe from me. Come back to this lady in a year,
and may her future and yours justify it. In the
judgment which we have pronounced this night, and of the
adventure of the Abbey Grange