place--about two miles on the south side of Esher. Thehouse was a fair-sized one, standing back from the road, with a curvingdrive which was banked with high evergreen shrubs. It was an old,tumbledown building in a crazy state of disrepair. When the trappulled up on the grass-grown drive in front of the blotched andweather-stained door, I had doubts as to my wisdom in visiting a manwhom I knew so slightly. He opened the door himself, however, andgreeted me with a great show of cordiality. I was handed over to themanservant, a melancholy, swarthy individual, who led the way, my bagin his hand, to my bedroom. The whole place was depressing. Ourdinner was tete-a-tete, and though my host did his best to beentertaining, his thoughts seemed to continually wander, and he talkedso vaguely and wildly that I could hardly understand him. Hecontinually drummed his fingers on the table, gnawed his nails, andgave other signs of nervous impatience. The dinner itself was neitherwell served nor well cooked, and the gloomy presence of the taciturnservant did not help to enliven us. I can assure you that many timesin the course of the evening I wished that I could invent some excusewhich would take me back to Lee.
"One thing comes back to my memory which may have a bearing upon thebusiness that you two gentlemen are investigating. I thought nothingof it at the time. Near the end of dinner a note was handed in by theservant. I noticed that after my host had read it he seemed even moredistrait and strange than before. He gave up all pretence atconversation and sat, smoking endless cigarettes, lost in his ownthoughts, but he made no remark as to the contents. About eleven I wasglad to go to bed. Some time later Garcia looked in at my door--theroom was dark at the time--and asked me if I had rung. I said that Ihad not. He apologized for having disturbed me so late, saying that itwas nearly one o'clock. I dropped off after this and slept soundly allnight.
"And now I come to the amazing part of my tale. When I woke it wasbroad daylight. I glanced at my watch, and the time was nearly nine.I had particularly asked to be called at eight, so I was very muchastonished at this forgetfulness. I sprang up and rang for theservant. There was no response. I rang again and again, with the sameresult. Then I came to the conclusion that the bell was out of order.I huddled on my clothes and hurried downstairs in an exceedingly badtemper to order some hot water. You can imagine my surprise when Ifound that there was no one there. I shouted in the hall. There wasno answer. Then I ran from room to room. All were deserted. My hosthad shown me which was his bedroom the night before, so I knocked atthe door. No reply. I turned the handle and walked in. The room wasempty, and the bed had never been slept in. He had gone with the rest.The foreign host, the foreign footman, the foreign cook, all hadvanished in the night! That was the end of my visit to Wisteria Lodge."
Sherlock Holmes was rubbing his hands and chuckling as he added thisbizarre incident to his collection of strange episodes.
"Your experience is, so far as I know, perfectly unique," said he."May I ask, sir, what you did then?"
"I was furious. My first idea was that I had been the victim of someabsurd practical joke. I packed my things, banged the hall door behindme, and set off for Esher, with my bag in my hand. I called at AllanBrothers', the chief land agents in the village, and found that it wasfrom this firm that the villa had been rented. It struck me that thewhole proceeding could hardly be for the purpose of making a fool ofme, and that the main object must be to get out of the rent. It islate in March, so quarter-day is at hand. But this theory would notwork. The agent was obliged to me for my warning, but told me that therent had been paid in advance. Then I made my way to town and calledat the Spanish embassy. The man was unknown there. After this I wentto see Melville, at whose house I had first met Garcia, but I foundthat he really knew rather less about him than I did. Finally when Igot your reply to my wire I came out to you, since I gather that youare a person who gives advice in difficult cases. But now, Mr.Inspector, I understand, from what you said when you entered the room,that you can carry the story on, and that some tragedy had occurred. Ican assure you that every word I have said is the truth, and that,outside of what I have told you, I know absolutely nothing about thefate of this man. My only desire is to help the law in every possibleway."
"I am sure of it, Mr. Scott Eccles--I am sure of it," said InspectorGregson in a very amiable tone. "I am bound to say that everythingwhich you have said agrees very closely with the facts as they havecome to our notice. For example, there was that note which arrivedduring dinner. Did you chance to observe what became of it?"
"Yes, I did. Garcia rolled it up and threw it into the fire."
"What do you say to that, Mr. Baynes?"
The country detective was a stout, puffy, red man, whose face was onlyredeemed from grossness by two extraordinarily bright eyes, almosthidden behind the heavy creases of cheek and brow. With a slow smilehe drew a folded and discoloured scrap of paper from his pocket.
"It was a dog-grate, Mr. Holmes, and he overpitched it. I picked thisout unburned from the back of it."
Holmes smiled his appreciation.
"You must have examined the house very carefully to find a singlepellet of paper."
"I did, Mr. Holmes. It's my way. Shall I read it, Mr. Gregson?"
The Londoner nodded.
"The note is written upon ordinary cream-laid paper without watermark.It is a quarter-sheet. The paper is cut off in two snips with ashort-bladed scissors. It has been folded over three times and sealedwith purple wax, put on hurriedly and pressed down with some flat ovalobject. It is addressed to Mr. Garcia, Wisteria Lodge. It says:
"Our own colours, green and white. Green open, white shut. Mainstair, first corridor, seventh right, green baize. Godspeed. D.
"It is a woman's writing, done with a sharp-pointed pen, but theaddress is either done with another pen or by someone else. It isthicker and bolder, as you see."
"A very remarkable note," said Holmes, glancing it over. "I mustcompliment you, Mr. Baynes, upon your attention to detail in yourexamination of it. A few trifling points might perhaps be added. Theoval seal is undoubtedly a plain sleeve-link--what else is of such ashape? The scissors were bent nail scissors. Short as the two snipsare, you can distinctly see the same slight curve in each."
The country detective chuckled.
"I thought I had squeezed all the juice out of it, but I see there wasa little over," he said. "I'm bound to say that I make nothing of thenote except that there was something on hand, and that a woman, asusual was at the bottom of it."
Mr. Scott Eccles had fidgeted in his seat during this conversation.
"I am glad you found the note, since it corroborates my story," saidhe. "But I beg to point out that I have not yet heard what hashappened to Mr. Garcia, nor what has become of his household."
"As to Garcia," said Gregson, "that is easily answered. He was founddead this morning upon Oxshott Common, nearly a mile from his home.His head had been smashed to pulp by heavy blows of a sandbag or somesuch instrument, which had crushed rather than wounded. It is a lonelycorner, and there is no house within a quarter of a mile of the spot.He had apparently been struck down first from behind, but his assailanthad gone on beating him long after he was dead. It was a most furiousassault. There are no footsteps nor any clue to the criminals."
"Robbed?"
"No, there was no attempt at robbery."
"This is very painful--very painful and terrible," said Mr. ScottEccles in a querulous voice, "but it is really uncommonly hard on me.I had nothing to do with my host going off upon a nocturnal excursionand meeting so sad an end. How do I come to be mixed up with the case?"
"Very simply, sir," Inspector Baynes answered. "The only documentfound in the pocket of the deceased was a letter from you saying thatyou would be with him on the night of his death. It was the envelope ofthis letter which gave us the dead man's name and address. It wasafter nine this morning when we reached his house and found neither younor anyone else inside it. I wired to Mr. Gregson to run you down inLondon while I ex
amined Wisteria Lodge. Then I came into town, joinedMr. Gregson, and here we are."
"I think now," said Gregson, rising, "we had best put this matter intoan official shape. You will come round with us to the station, Mr.Scott Eccles, and let us have your statement in writing."
"Certainly, I will come at once. But I retain your services, Mr.Holmes. I desire you to spare no expense and no pains to get at thetruth."
My friend turned to the country inspector.
"I suppose that you have no objection to my collaborating with you, Mr.Baynes?"
"Highly honoured, sir, I am sure."
"You appear to have been very prompt and businesslike in all that youhave done. Was there any clue, may I ask, as to the exact hour thatthe man