Read The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Page 21

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 honor 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 colored 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 impassable,

  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 presence 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 wi
ll 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

  entertaining," 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 investigation,

  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,

  thickening into 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 acquaintance,"

  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 someone

  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 kindness

  to go into your room and bar your shutters?"

  Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examination

  through the open window, endeavored 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 side 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 discolored that it may have dated from the original building

  of the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner and sat

  silent, 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 pillow.

  "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 did 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