hidingplace of the fugitives, and he had good reason to believe that they hadnot gone far but were lurking in some retreat which had been alreadyprepared. It was certain from the first, however, that they wouldeventually be detected, as the cook, from the evidence of one or twotradespeople who have caught a glimpse of him through the window, was aman of most remarkable appearance--being a huge and hideous mulatto,with yellowish features of a pronounced negroid type. This man hasbeen seen since the crime, for he was detected and pursued by ConstableWalters on the same evening, when he had the audacity to revisitWisteria Lodge. Inspector Baynes, considering that such a visit musthave some purpose in view and was likely, therefore, to be repeated,abandoned the house but left an ambuscade in the shrubbery. The manwalked into the trap and was captured last night after a struggle inwhich Constable Downing was badly bitten by the savage. We understandthat when the prisoner is brought before the magistrates a remand will beapplied for by the police, and that great developments are hoped fromhis capture."
"Really we must see Baynes at once," cried Holmes, picking up his hat."We will just catch him before he starts." We hurried down the villagestreet and found, as we had expected, that the inspector was justleaving his lodgings.
"You've seen the paper, Mr. Holmes?" he asked, holding one out to us.
"Yes, Baynes, I've seen it. Pray don't think it a liberty if I giveyou a word of friendly warning."
"Of warning, Mr. Holmes?"
"I have looked into this case with some care, and I am not convincedthat you are on the right lines. I don't want you to commit yourselftoo far unless you are sure."
"You're very kind, Mr. Holmes."
"I assure you I speak for your good."
It seemed to me that something like a wink quivered for an instant overone of Mr. Baynes's tiny eyes.
"We agreed to work on our own lines, Mr. Holmes. That's what I amdoing."
"Oh, very good," said Holmes. "Don't blame me."
"No, sir; I believe you mean well by me. But we all have our ownsystems, Mr. Holmes. You have yours, and maybe I have mine."
"Let us say no more about it."
"You're welcome always to my news. This fellow is a perfect savage, asstrong as a cart-horse and as fierce as the devil. He chewed Downing'sthumb nearly off before they could master him. He hardly speaks a wordof English, and we can get nothing out of him but grunts."
"And you think you have evidence that he murdered his late master?"
"I didn't say so, Mr. Holmes; I didn't say so. We all have our littleways. You try yours and I will try mine. That's the agreement."
Holmes shrugged his shoulders as we walked away together. "I can'tmake the man out. He seems to be riding for a fall. Well, as he says,we must each try our own way and see what comes of it. But there'ssomething in Inspector Baynes which I can't quite understand."
"Just sit down in that chair, Watson," said Sherlock Holmes when we hadreturned to our apartment at the Bull. "I want to put you in touchwith the situation, as I may need your help to-night. Let me show youthe evolution of this case so far as I have been able to follow it.Simple as it has been in its leading features, it has none the lesspresented surprising difficulties in the way of an arrest. There aregaps in that direction which we have still to fill.
"We will go back to the note which was handed in to Garcia upon theevening of his death. We may put aside this idea of Baynes's thatGarcia's servants were concerned in the matter. The proof of this liesin the fact that it was _he_ who had arranged for the presence of ScottEccles, which could only have been done for the purpose of an alibi.It was Garcia, then, who had an enterprise, and apparently a criminalenterprise, in hand that night in the course of which he met his death.I say 'criminal' because only a man with a criminal enterprise desiresto establish an alibi. Who, then, is most likely to have taken hislife? Surely the person against whom the criminal enterprise wasdirected. So far it seems to me that we are on safe ground.
"We can now see a reason for the disappearance of Garcia's household.They were _all_ confederates in the same unknown crime. If it came offwhen Garcia returned, any possible suspicion would be warded off by theEnglishman's evidence, and all would be well. But the attempt was adangerous one, and if Garcia did _not_ return by a certain hour it wasprobable that his own life had been sacrificed. It had been arranged,therefore, that in such a case his two subordinates were to make forsome prearranged spot where they could escape investigation and be in aposition afterwards to renew their attempt. That would fully explainthe facts, would it not?"
The whole inexplicable tangle seemed to straighten out before me. Iwondered, as I always did, how it had not been obvious to me before.
"But why should one servant return?"
"We can imagine that in the confusion of flight something precious,something which he could not bear to part with, had been left behind.That would explain his persistence, would it not?"
"Well, what is the next step?"
"The next step is the note received by Garcia at the dinner. Itindicates a confederate at the other end. Now, where was the otherend? I have already shown you that it could only lie in some largehouse, and that the number of large houses is limited. My first days inthis village were devoted to a series of walks in which in theintervals of my botanical researches I made a reconnaissance of all thelarge houses and an examination of the family history of the occupants.One house, and only one, riveted my attention. It is the famous oldJacobean grange of High Gable, one mile on the farther side of Oxshott,and less than half a mile from the scene of the tragedy. The othermansions belonged to prosaic and respectable people who live far alooffrom romance. But Mr. Henderson, of High Gable, was by all accounts acurious man to whom curious adventures might befall. I concentrated myattention, therefore, upon him and his household.
"A singular set of people, Watson--the man himself the most singular ofthem all. I managed to see him on a plausible pretext, but I seemed toread in his dark, deepset, brooding eyes that he was perfectly aware ofmy true business. He is a man of fifty, strong, active, with iron-grayhair, great bunched black eyebrows, the step of a deer and the air ofan emperor--a fierce, masterful man, with a red-hot spirit behind hisparchment face. He is either a foreigner or has lived long in thetropics, for he is yellow and sapless, but tough as whipcord. Hisfriend and secretary, Mr. Lucas, is undoubtedly a foreigner, chocolatebrown, wily, suave, and catlike, with a poisonous gentleness of speech.You see, Watson, we have come already upon two sets of foreigners--oneat Wisteria Lodge and one at High Gable--so our gaps are beginning toclose.
"These two men, close and confidential friends, are the centre of thehousehold; but there is one other person who for our immediate purposemay be even more important. Henderson has two children--girls ofeleven and thirteen. Their governess is a Miss Burnet, an Englishwomanof forty or thereabouts. There is also one confidential manservant.This little group forms the real family, for they travel abouttogether, and Henderson is a great traveller, always on the move. Itis only within the last weeks that he has returned, after a year'sabsence, to High Gable. I may add that he is enormously rich, andwhatever his whims may be he can very easily satisfy them. For therest, his house is full of butlers, footmen, maidservants, and theusual overfed, underworked staff of a large English country house.
"So much I learned partly from village gossip and partly from my ownobservation. There are no better instruments than discharged servantswith a grievance, and I was lucky enough to find one. I call it luck,but it would not have come my way had I not been looking out for it.As Baynes remarks, we all have our systems. It was my system whichenabled me to find John Warner, late gardener of High Gable, sacked ina moment of temper by his imperious employer. He in turn had friendsamong the indoor servants who unite in their fear and dislike of theirmaster. So I had my key to the secrets of the establishment.
"Curious people, Watson! I don't pretend to understand it all yet, butvery curious people anyway. It's a double
-winged house, and theservants live on one side, the family on the other. There's no linkbetween the two save for Henderson's own servant, who serves thefamily's meals. Everything is carried to a certain door, which formsthe one connection. Governess and children hardly go out at all,except into the garden. Henderson never by any chance walks alone.His dark secretary is like his shadow. The gossip among the servantsis that their master is terribly afraid of something. 'Sold his soulto the devil in exchange for money,' says Warner, 'and expects hiscreditor to come up and claim his own.' Where they came from, or whothey are, nobody has an idea. They are very violent. Twice Hendersonhas lashed at folk with his dog-whip, and only his