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THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
Adventure IX. THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER'S THUMB
Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend, Mr. Sherlock
Holmes, for solution during the years of our intimacy, there were only two which I
was the means of introducing to his notice-
-that of Mr. Hatherley's thumb, and that of Colonel Warburton's madness.
Of these the latter may have afforded a finer field for an acute and original
observer, but the other was so strange in its inception and so dramatic in its
details that it may be the more worthy of
being placed upon record, even if it gave my friend fewer openings for those
deductive methods of reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable results.
The story has, I believe, been told more than once in the newspapers, but, like all
such narratives, its effect is much less striking when set forth en bloc in a single
half-column of print than when the facts
slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery clears gradually away as each new
discovery furnishes a step which leads on to the complete truth.
At the time the circumstances made a deep impression upon me, and the lapse of two
years has hardly served to weaken the effect.
It was in the summer of '89, not long after my marriage, that the events occurred which
I am now about to summarise.
I had returned to civil practice and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker
Street rooms, although I continually visited him and occasionally even persuaded
him to forgo his Bohemian habits so far as to come and visit us.
My practice had steadily increased, and as I happened to live at no very great
distance from Paddington Station, I got a few patients from among the officials.
One of these, whom I had cured of a painful and lingering disease, was never weary of
advertising my virtues and of endeavouring to send me on every sufferer over whom he
might have any influence.
One morning, at a little before seven o'clock, I was awakened by the maid tapping
at the door to announce that two men had come from Paddington and were waiting in
the consulting-room.
I dressed hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases were seldom
trivial, and hastened downstairs.
As I descended, my old ally, the guard, came out of the room and closed the door
tightly behind him.
"I've got him here," he whispered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder; "he's all
right." "What is it, then?"
I asked, for his manner suggested that it was some strange creature which he had
caged up in my room. "It's a new patient," he whispered.
"I thought I'd bring him round myself; then he couldn't slip away.
There he is, all safe and sound. I must go now, Doctor; I have my dooties,
just the same as you."
And off he went, this trusty tout, without even giving me time to thank him.
I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the table.
He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed with a soft cloth cap which he had
laid down upon my books.
Round one of his hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all
over with bloodstains.
He was young, not more than five-and- twenty, I should say, with a strong,
masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale and gave me the impression of a man who was
suffering from some strong agitation, which
it took all his strength of mind to control.
"I am sorry to knock you up so early, Doctor," said he, "but I have had a very
serious accident during the night.
I came in by train this morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I might
find a doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me here.
I gave the maid a card, but I see that she has left it upon the side-table."
I took it up and glanced at it. "Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic engineer,
16A, Victoria Street (3rd floor)."
That was the name, style, and abode of my morning visitor.
"I regret that I have kept you waiting," said I, sitting down in my library-chair.
"You are fresh from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself a monotonous
occupation." "Oh, my night could not be called
monotonous," said he, and laughed.
He laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, leaning back in his chair and
shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up against
that laugh.
"Stop it!" I cried; "pull yourself together!" and I
poured out some water from a caraffe. It was useless, however.
He was off in one of those hysterical outbursts which come upon a strong nature
when some great crisis is over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more,
very weary and pale-looking.
"I have been making a fool of myself," he gasped.
"Not at all. Drink this."
I dashed some brandy into the water, and the colour began to come back to his
bloodless cheeks. "That's better!" said he.
"And now, Doctor, perhaps you would kindly attend to my thumb, or rather to the place
where my thumb used to be." He unwound the handkerchief and held out
his hand.
It gave even my hardened nerves a shudder to look at it.
There were four protruding fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the thumb
should have been.
It had been hacked or torn right out from the roots.
"Good heavens!" I cried, "this is a terrible injury.
It must have bled considerably."
"Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think
that I must have been senseless for a long time.
When I came to I found that it was still bleeding, so I tied one end of my
handkerchief very tightly round the wrist and braced it up with a twig."
"Excellent!
You should have been a surgeon." "It is a question of hydraulics, you see,
and came within my own province."
"This has been done," said I, examining the wound, "by a very heavy and sharp
instrument." "A thing like a cleaver," said he.
"An accident, I presume?"
"By no means." "What! a murderous attack?"
"Very murderous indeed." "You horrify me."
I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered it over with cotton
wadding and carbolised bandages. He lay back without wincing, though he bit
his lip from time to time.
"How is that?" I asked when I had finished.
"Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I
feel a new man.
I was very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through."
"Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter.
It is evidently trying to your nerves."
"Oh, no, not now.
I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but, between ourselves, if it were not for
the convincing evidence of this wound of mine, I should be surprised if they
believed my statement, for it is a very
extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of proof with which to back it up;
and, even if they believe me, the clues which I can give them are so vague that it
is a question whether justice will be done."
"Ha!" cried I, "if it is anything in the nature of a problem which you desire to see
solved, I should strongly recommend you to come to my friend, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,
before you go to the official police."
"Oh, I have heard of that fellow," answered my visitor, "and I should be very glad if
he would take the matter up, though of course I must use the official police as
well.
Would you give me an introduction to him?" "I'll do better.
I'll take you round to him myself." "I should be immensely obliged to you."
"We'll call a cab and go together.
We shall just be in time to have a little breakfast with him.
Do you feel equal to it?" "Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have
told my story."
"Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an instant."
I rushed upstairs, explained the matter shortly to my wife, and in five minutes was
inside a hansom, driving with my new acquaintance to Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in his
dressing-gown, reading the agony column of The Times and smoking his before-breakfast
pipe, which was composed of all the plugs
and dottles left from his smokes of the day before, all carefully dried and collected
on the corner of the mantelpiece.
He received us in his quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs,
and joined us in a hearty meal.
When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance upon the sofa, placed a pillow
beneath his head, and laid a glass of brandy and water within his reach.
"It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr. Hatherley," said
he. "Pray, lie down there and make yourself
absolutely at home.
Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired and keep up your strength with a
little stimulant."
"Thank you," said my patient, "but I have felt another man since the doctor bandaged
me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the cure.
I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so I shall start at once
upon my peculiar experiences."
Holmes sat in his big armchair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression which veiled
his keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to him, and we listened in silence
to the strange story which our visitor detailed to us.
"You must know," said he, "that I am an orphan and a bachelor, residing alone in
lodgings in London.
By profession I am a hydraulic engineer, and I have had considerable experience of
my work during the seven years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the well-
known firm, of Greenwich.
Two years ago, having served my time, and having also come into a fair sum of money
through my poor father's death, I determined to start in business for myself
and took professional chambers in Victoria Street.
"I suppose that everyone finds his first independent start in business a dreary
experience.
To me it has been exceptionally so. During two years I have had three
consultations and one small job, and that is absolutely all that my profession has
brought me.
My gross takings amount to 27 pounds 10s.
Every day, from nine in the morning until four in the afternoon, I waited in my
little den, until at last my heart began to sink, and I came to believe that I should
never have any practice at all.
"Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office, my clerk entered to
say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to see me upon business.
He brought up a card, too, with the name of 'Colonel Lysander Stark' engraved upon it.
Close at his heels came the colonel himself, a man rather over the middle size,
but of an exceeding thinness.
I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a man.
His whole face sharpened away into nose and chin, and the skin of his cheeks was drawn
quite tense over his outstanding bones.
Yet this emaciation seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no disease, for
his eye was bright, his step brisk, and his bearing assured.
He was plainly but neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty
than thirty. "'Mr. Hatherley?' said he, with something
of a German accent.
'You have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not only
proficient in his profession but is also discreet and capable of preserving a
secret.'
"I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an address.
'May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?'
"'Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just at this moment.
I have it from the same source that you are both an orphan and a bachelor and are
residing alone in London.'
"'That is quite correct,' I answered; 'but you will excuse me if I say that I cannot
see how all this bears upon my professional qualifications.
I understand that it was on a professional matter that you wished to speak to me?'
"'Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really
to the point.
I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy is quite essential--
absolute secrecy, you understand, and of course we may expect that more from a man
who is alone than from one who lives in the bosom of his family.'
"'If I promise to keep a secret,' said I, 'you may absolutely depend upon my doing
so.'
"He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I had never seen so
suspicious and questioning an eye. "'Do you promise, then?' said he at last.
"'Yes, I promise.'
"'Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after?
No reference to the matter at all, either in word or writing?'
"'I have already given you my word.'
"'Very good.' He suddenly sprang up, and darting like
lightning across the room he flung open the door.
The passage outside was empty.
"'That's all right,' said he, coming back. 'I know that clerks are sometimes curious
as to their master's affairs. Now we can talk in safety.'
He drew up his chair very close to mine and began to stare at me again with the same
questioning and thoughtful look.
"A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun to rise within me at
the strange antics of this fleshless man. Even my dread of losing a client could not
restrain me from showing my impatience.
"'I beg that you will state your business, sir,' said I; 'my time is of value.'
Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the words came to my lips.
"'How would fifty guineas for a night's work suit you?' he asked.
"'Most admirably.' "'I say a night's work, but an hour's would
be nearer the mark.
I simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which has got
out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon
set it right ourselves.
What do you think of such a commission as that?'
"'The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.'
"'Precisely so.
We shall want you to come to-night by the last train.'
"'Where to?' "'To Eyford, in Berkshire.
It is a little place near the borders of Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of
Reading. There is a train from Paddington which
would bring you there at about 11:15.'
"'Very good.' "'I shall come down in a carriage to meet
you.' "'There is a drive, then?'
"'Yes, our little place is quite out in the country.
It is a good seven miles from Eyford Station.'
"'Then we can hardly get there before midnight.
I suppose there would be no chance of a train back.
I should be compelled to stop the night.'
"'Yes, we could easily give you a shake- down.'
"'That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient
hour?'
"'We have judged it best that you should come late.
It is to recompense you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a
young and unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the very heads of your
profession.
Still, of course, if you would like to draw out of the business, there is plenty of
time to do so.' "I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how
very useful they would be to me.
'Not at all,' said I, 'I shall be very happy to accommodate myself to your wishes.
I should like, however, to understand a little more clearly what it is that you
wish me to do.'
"'Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of
secrecy which we have exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity.
I have no wish to commit you to anything without your having it all laid before you.
I suppose that we are absolutely safe from eavesdroppers?'
"'Entirely.'
"'Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that fuller's-earth
is a valuable product, and that it is only found in one or two places in England?'
"'I have heard so.'
"'Some little time ago I bought a small place--a very small place--within ten miles
of Reading.
I was fortunate enough to discover that there was a deposit of fuller's-earth in
one of my fields.
On examining it, however, I found that this deposit was a comparatively small one, and
that it formed a link between two very much larger ones upon the right and left--both
of them, however, in the grounds of my neighbours.
These good people were absolutely ignorant that their land contained that which was
quite as valuable as a gold-mine.
Naturally, it was to my interest to buy their land before they discovered its true
value, but unfortunately I had no capital by which I could do this.
I took a few of my friends into the secret, however, and they suggested that we should
quietly and secretly work our own little deposit and that in this way we should earn
the money which would enable us to buy the neighbouring fields.
This we have now been doing for some time, and in order to help us in our operations
we erected a hydraulic press.
This press, as I have already explained, has got out of order, and we wish your
advice upon the subject.
We guard our secret very jealously, however, and if it once became known that
we had hydraulic engineers coming to our little house, it would soon rouse inquiry,
and then, if the facts came out, it would
be good-bye to any chance of getting these fields and carrying out our plans.
That is why I have made you promise me that you will not tell a human being that you
are going to Eyford to-night.
I hope that I make it all plain?' "'I quite follow you,' said I.
'The only point which I could not quite understand was what use you could make of a
hydraulic press in excavating fuller's- earth, which, as I understand, is dug out
like gravel from a pit.'
"'Ah!' said he carelessly, 'we have our own process.
We compress the earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing what they
are.
But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully into my confidence
now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I trust you.'
He rose as he spoke.
'I shall expect you, then, at Eyford at 11:15.'
"'I shall certainly be there.' "'And not a word to a soul.'
He looked at me with a last long, questioning gaze, and then, pressing my
hand in a cold, dank grasp, he hurried from the room.
"Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very much astonished, as
you may both think, at this sudden commission which had been intrusted to me.
On the one hand, of course, I was glad, for the fee was at least tenfold what I should
have asked had I set a price upon my own services, and it was possible that this
order might lead to other ones.
On the other hand, the face and manner of my patron had made an unpleasant impression
upon me, and I could not think that his explanation of the fuller's-earth was
sufficient to explain the necessity for my
coming at midnight, and his extreme anxiety lest I should tell anyone of my errand.
However, I threw all fears to the winds, ate a hearty supper, drove to Paddington,
and started off, having obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding my
tongue.
"At Reading I had to change not only my carriage but my station.
However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I reached the little dim-lit
station after eleven o'clock.
I was the only passenger who got out there, and there was no one upon the platform save
a single sleepy porter with a lantern.
As I passed out through the wicket gate, however, I found my acquaintance of the
morning waiting in the shadow upon the other side.
Without a word he grasped my arm and hurried me into a carriage, the door of
which was standing open.
He drew up the windows on either side, tapped on the wood-work, and away we went
as fast as the horse could go." "One horse?" interjected Holmes.
"Yes, only one."
"Did you observe the colour?" "Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I
was stepping into the carriage. It was a chestnut."
"Tired-looking or fresh?"
"Oh, fresh and glossy." "Thank you.
I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue your most interesting
statement."
"Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour.
Colonel Lysander Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I should think, from
the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time that we took, that it must have been
nearer twelve.
He sat at my side in silence all the time, and I was aware, more than once when I
glanced in his direction, that he was looking at me with great intensity.
The country roads seem to be not very good in that part of the world, for we lurched
and jolted terribly.
I tried to look out of the windows to see something of where we were, but they were
made of frosted glass, and I could make out nothing save the occasional bright blur of
a passing light.
Now and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey, but the
colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the conversation soon flagged.
At last, however, the bumping of the road was exchanged for the crisp smoothness of a
gravel-drive, and the carriage came to a stand.
Colonel Lysander Stark sprang out, and, as I followed after him, pulled me swiftly
into a porch which gaped in front of us.
We stepped, as it were, right out of the carriage and into the hall, so that I
failed to catch the most fleeting glance of the front of the house.
The instant that I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily behind
us, and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage drove away.
"It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled about looking for
matches and muttering under his breath.
Suddenly a door opened at the other end of the passage, and a long, golden bar of
light shot out in our direction.
It grew broader, and a woman appeared with a lamp in her hand, which she held above
her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us.
I could see that she was pretty, and from the gloss with which the light shone upon
her dark dress I knew that it was a rich material.
She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a tone as though asking a question, and
when my companion answered in a gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the
lamp nearly fell from her hand.
Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered something in her ear, and then, pushing her
back into the room from whence she had come, he walked towards me again with the
lamp in his hand.
"'Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a few minutes,' said
he, throwing open another door.
It was a quiet, little, plainly furnished room, with a round table in the centre, on
which several German books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down the lamp on the top
of a harmonium beside the door.
'I shall not keep you waiting an instant,' said he, and vanished into the darkness.
"I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my ignorance of German I could
see that two of them were treatises on science, the others being volumes of
poetry.
Then I walked across to the window, hoping that I might catch some glimpse of the
country-side, but an oak shutter, heavily barred, was folded across it.
It was a wonderfully silent house.
There was an old clock ticking loudly somewhere in the passage, but otherwise
everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began to
steal over me.
Who were these German people, and what were they doing living in this strange, out-of-
the-way place? And where was the place?
I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was all I knew, but whether north, south, east,
or west I had no idea.
For that matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns, were within that radius,
so the place might not be so secluded, after all.
Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute stillness, that we were in the country.
I paced up and down the room, humming a tune under my breath to keep up my spirits
and feeling that I was thoroughly earning my fifty-guinea fee.
"Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the utter stillness, the door
of my room swung slowly open.
The woman was standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind her, the yellow
light from my lamp beating upon her eager and beautiful face.
I could see at a glance that she was sick with fear, and the sight sent a chill to my
own heart.
She held up one shaking finger to warn me to be silent, and she shot a few whispered
words of broken English at me, her eyes glancing back, like those of a frightened
horse, into the gloom behind her.
"'I would go,' said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to speak calmly; 'I would go.
I should not stay here. There is no good for you to do.'
"'But, madam,' said I, 'I have not yet done what I came for.
I cannot possibly leave until I have seen the machine.'
"'It is not worth your while to wait,' she went on.
'You can pass through the door; no one hinders.'
And then, seeing that I smiled and shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her
constraint and made a step forward, with her hands wrung together.
'For the love of Heaven!' she whispered, 'get away from here before it is too late!'
"But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to engage in an affair
when there is some obstacle in the way.
I thought of my fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of the unpleasant
night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to go for nothing?
Why should I slink away without having carried out my commission, and without the
payment which was my due? This woman might, for all I knew, be a
monomaniac.
With a stout bearing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I cared to
confess, I still shook my head and declared my intention of remaining where I was.
She was about to renew her entreaties when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of
several footsteps was heard upon the stairs.
She listened for an instant, threw up her hands with a despairing gesture, and
vanished as suddenly and as noiselessly as she had come.
"The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man with a chinchilla
beard growing out of the creases of his double chin, who was introduced to me as
Mr. Ferguson.
"'This is my secretary and manager,' said the colonel.
'By the way, I was under the impression that I left this door shut just now.
I fear that you have felt the draught.'
"'On the contrary,' said I, 'I opened the door myself because I felt the room to be a
little close.' "He shot one of his suspicious looks at me.
'Perhaps we had better proceed to business, then,' said he.
'Mr. Ferguson and I will take you up to see the machine.'
"'I had better put my hat on, I suppose.'
"'Oh, no, it is in the house.' "'What, you dig fuller's-earth in the
house?' "'No, no.
This is only where we compress it.
But never mind that. All we wish you to do is to examine the
machine and to let us know what is wrong with it.'
"We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the fat manager and I
behind him.
It was a labyrinth of an old house, with corridors, passages, narrow winding
staircases, and little low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by
the generations who had crossed them.
There were no carpets and no signs of any furniture above the ground floor, while the
plaster was peeling off the walls, and the damp was breaking through in green,
unhealthy blotches.
I tried to put on as unconcerned an air as possible, but I had not forgotten the
warnings of the lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen eye
upon my two companions.
Ferguson appeared to be a morose and silent man, but I could see from the little that
he said that he was at least a fellow- countryman.
"Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which he unlocked.
Within was a small, square room, in which the three of us could hardly get at one
time.
Ferguson remained outside, and the colonel ushered me in.
"'We are now,' said he, 'actually within the hydraulic press, and it would be a
particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were to turn it on.
The ceiling of this small chamber is really the end of the descending piston, and it
comes down with the force of many tons upon this metal floor.
There are small lateral columns of water outside which receive the force, and which
transmit and multiply it in the manner which is familiar to you.
The machine goes readily enough, but there is some stiffness in the working of it, and
it has lost a little of its force.
Perhaps you will have the goodness to look it over and to show us how we can set it
right.' "I took the lamp from him, and I examined
the machine very thoroughly.
It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of exercising enormous pressure.
When I passed outside, however, and pressed down the levers which controlled it, I knew
at once by the whishing sound that there was a slight leakage, which allowed a
regurgitation of water through one of the side cylinders.
An examination showed that one of the india-rubber bands which was round the head
of a driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to fill the socket along which it worked.
This was clearly the cause of the loss of power, and I pointed it out to my
companions, who followed my remarks very carefully and asked several practical
questions as to how they should proceed to set it right.
When I had made it clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of the machine
and took a good look at it to satisfy my own curiosity.
It was obvious at a glance that the story of the fuller's-earth was the merest
fabrication, for it would be absurd to suppose that so powerful an engine could be
designed for so inadequate a purpose.
The walls were of wood, but the floor consisted of a large iron trough, and when
I came to examine it I could see a crust of metallic deposit all over it.
I had stooped and was scraping at this to see exactly what it was when I heard a
muttered exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of the colonel looking down
at me.
"'What are you doing there?' he asked. "I felt angry at having been tricked by so
elaborate a story as that which he had told me.
'I was admiring your fuller's-earth,' said I; 'I think that I should be better able to
advise you as to your machine if I knew what the exact purpose was for which it was
used.'
"The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of my speech.
His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in his grey eyes.
"'Very well,' said he, 'you shall know all about the machine.'
He took a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key in the lock.
I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it was quite secure, and did
not give in the least to my kicks and shoves.
'Hullo!'
I yelled. 'Hullo!
Colonel! Let me out!'
"And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my heart into my mouth.
It was the clank of the levers and the swish of the leaking cylinder.
He had set the engine at work.
The lamp still stood upon the floor where I had placed it when examining the trough.
By its light I saw that the black ceiling was coming down upon me, slowly, jerkily,
but, as none knew better than myself, with a force which must within a minute grind me
to a shapeless pulp.
I threw myself, screaming, against the door, and dragged with my nails at the
lock.
I implored the colonel to let me out, but the remorseless clanking of the levers
drowned my cries.
The ceiling was only a foot or two above my head, and with my hand upraised I could
feel its hard, rough surface.
Then it flashed through my mind that the pain of my death would depend very much
upon the position in which I met it.
If I lay on my face the weight would come upon my spine, and I shuddered to think of
that dreadful snap.
Easier the other way, perhaps; and yet, had I the nerve to lie and look up at that
deadly black shadow wavering down upon me?
Already I was unable to stand erect, when my eye caught something which brought a
gush of hope back to my heart.
"I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the walls were of
wood.
As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw a thin line of yellow light between two
of the boards, which broadened and broadened as a small panel was pushed
backward.
For an instant I could hardly believe that here was indeed a door which led away from
death. The next instant I threw myself through,
and lay half-fainting upon the other side.
The panel had closed again behind me, but the crash of the lamp, and a few moments
afterwards the clang of the two slabs of metal, told me how narrow had been my
escape.
"I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and I found myself
lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor, while a woman bent over me and
tugged at me with her left hand, while she held a candle in her right.
It was the same good friend whose warning I had so foolishly rejected.
"'Come! come!' she cried breathlessly.
'They will be here in a moment. They will see that you are not there.
Oh, do not waste the so-precious time, but come!'
"This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice.
I staggered to my feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding
stair.
The latter led to another broad passage, and just as we reached it we heard the
sound of running feet and the shouting of two voices, one answering the other from
the floor on which we were and from the one beneath.
My guide stopped and looked about her like one who is at her wit's end.
Then she threw open a door which led into a bedroom, through the window of which the
moon was shining brightly. "'It is your only chance,' said she.
'It is high, but it may be that you can jump it.'
"As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the passage, and I saw
the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark rushing forward with a lantern in one hand
and a weapon like a butcher's cleaver in the other.
I rushed across the bedroom, flung open the window, and looked out.
How quiet and sweet and wholesome the garden looked in the moonlight, and it
could not be more than thirty feet down.
I clambered out upon the sill, but I hesitated to jump until I should have heard
what passed between my saviour and the ruffian who pursued me.
If she were ill-used, then at any risks I was determined to go back to her
assistance.
The thought had hardly flashed through my mind before he was at the door, pushing his
way past her; but she threw her arms round him and tried to hold him back.
"'Fritz!
Fritz!' she cried in English, 'remember your promise after the last time.
You said it should not be again. He will be silent!
Oh, he will be silent!'
"'You are mad, Elise!' he shouted, struggling to break away from her.
'You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much.
Let me pass, I say!'
He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the window, cut at me with his heavy
weapon. I had let myself go, and was hanging by the
hands to the sill, when his blow fell.
I was conscious of a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into the garden below.
"I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I picked myself up and rushed off among the
bushes as hard as I could run, for I understood that I was far from being out of
danger yet.
Suddenly, however, as I ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me.
I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and then, for the
first time, saw that my thumb had been cut off and that the blood was pouring from my
wound.
I endeavoured to tie my handkerchief round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my
ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint among the rose-bushes.
"How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell.
It must have been a very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was
breaking when I came to myself.
My clothes were all sodden with dew, and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my
wounded thumb.
The smarting of it recalled in an instant all the particulars of my night's
adventure, and I sprang to my feet with the feeling that I might hardly yet be safe
from my pursuers.
But to my astonishment, when I came to look round me, neither house nor garden were to
be seen.
I had been lying in an angle of the hedge close by the highroad, and just a little
lower down was a long building, which proved, upon my approaching it, to be the
very station at which I had arrived upon the previous night.
Were it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed during those
dreadful hours might have been an evil dream.
"Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning train.
There would be one to Reading in less than an hour.
The same porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I arrived.
I inquired of him whether he had ever heard of Colonel Lysander Stark.
The name was strange to him.
Had he observed a carriage the night before waiting for me?
No, he had not. Was there a police-station anywhere near?
There was one about three miles off.
"It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was.
I determined to wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the police.
It was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first to have my wound dressed, and
then the doctor was kind enough to bring me along here.
I put the case into your hands and shall do exactly what you advise."
We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to this extraordinary
narrative.
Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down from the shelf one of the ponderous commonplace
books in which he placed his cuttings. "Here is an advertisement which will
interest you," said he.
"It appeared in all the papers about a year ago.
Listen to this: 'Lost, on the 9th inst., Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged twenty-six, a
hydraulic engineer.
Left his lodgings at ten o'clock at night, and has not been heard of since.
Was dressed in,' etc., etc. Ha!
That represents the last time that the colonel needed to have his machine
overhauled, I fancy." "Good heavens!" cried my patient.
"Then that explains what the girl said."
"Undoubtedly.
It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and desperate man, who was absolutely
determined that nothing should stand in the way of his little game, like those out-and-
out pirates who will leave no survivor from a captured ship.
Well, every moment now is precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall go down to
Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary to starting for Eyford."
Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train together, bound from
Reading to the little Berkshire village.
There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector Bradstreet, of Scotland
Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself.
Bradstreet had spread an ordnance map of the county out upon the seat and was busy
with his compasses drawing a circle with Eyford for its centre.
"There you are," said he.
"That circle is drawn at a radius of ten miles from the village.
The place we want must be somewhere near that line.
You said ten miles, I think, sir."
"It was an hour's good drive." "And you think that they brought you back
all that way when you were unconscious?" "They must have done so.
I have a confused memory, too, of having been lifted and conveyed somewhere."
"What I cannot understand," said I, "is why they should have spared you when they found
you lying fainting in the garden.
Perhaps the villain was softened by the woman's entreaties."
"I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face in my
life."
"Oh, we shall soon clear up all that," said Bradstreet.
"Well, I have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon it the folk
that we are in search of are to be found."
"I think I could lay my finger on it," said Holmes quietly.
"Really, now!" cried the inspector, "you have formed your opinion!
Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you.
I say it is south, for the country is more deserted there."
"And I say east," said my patient.
"I am for west," remarked the plain-clothes man.
"There are several quiet little villages up there."
"And I am for north," said I, "because there are no hills there, and our friend
says that he did not notice the carriage go up any."
"Come," cried the inspector, laughing; "it's a very pretty diversity of opinion.
We have boxed the compass among us. Who do you give your casting vote to?"
"You are all wrong."
"But we can't all be." "Oh, yes, you can.
This is my point." He placed his finger in the centre of the
circle.
"This is where we shall find them." "But the twelve-mile drive?" gasped
Hatherley. "Six out and six back.
Nothing simpler.
You say yourself that the horse was fresh and glossy when you got in.
How could it be that if it had gone twelve miles over heavy roads?"
"Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough," observed Bradstreet thoughtfully.
"Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature of this gang."
"None at all," said Holmes.
"They are coiners on a large scale, and have used the machine to form the amalgam
which has taken the place of silver." "We have known for some time that a clever
gang was at work," said the inspector.
"They have been turning out half-crowns by the thousand.
We even traced them as far as Reading, but could get no farther, for they had covered
their traces in a way that showed that they were very old hands.
But now, thanks to this lucky chance, I think that we have got them right enough."
But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not destined to fall into
the hands of justice.
As we rolled into Eyford Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed up
from behind a small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and hung like an immense
ostrich feather over the landscape.
"A house on fire?" asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off again on its way.
"Yes, sir!" said the station-master. "When did it break out?"
"I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse, and the whole place
is in a blaze." "Whose house is it?"
"Dr. Becher's."
"Tell me," broke in the engineer, "is Dr. Becher a German, very thin, with a long,
sharp nose?" The station-master laughed heartily.
"No, sir, Dr. Becher is an Englishman, and there isn't a man in the parish who has a
better-lined waistcoat.
But he has a gentleman staying with him, a patient, as I understand, who is a
foreigner, and he looks as if a little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm."
The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all hastening in the
direction of the fire.
The road topped a low hill, and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in
front of us, spouting fire at every chink and window, while in the garden in front
three fire-engines were vainly striving to keep the flames under.
"That's it!" cried Hatherley, in intense excitement.
"There is the gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay.
That second window is the one that I jumped from."
"Well, at least," said Holmes, "you have had your revenge upon them.
There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which, when it was crushed in the
press, set fire to the wooden walls, though no doubt they were too excited in the chase
after you to observe it at the time.
Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for your friends of last night, though I very
much fear that they are a good hundred miles off by now."
And Holmes' fears came to be realised, for from that day to this no word has ever been
heard either of the beautiful woman, the sinister German, or the morose Englishman.
Early that morning a peasant had met a cart containing several people and some very
bulky boxes driving rapidly in the direction of Reading, but there all traces
of the fugitives disappeared, and even
Holmes' ingenuity failed ever to discover the least clue as to their whereabouts.
The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements which they had found
within, and still more so by discovering a newly severed human thumb upon a window-
sill of the second floor.
About sunset, however, their efforts were at last successful, and they subdued the
flames, but not before the roof had fallen in, and the whole place been reduced to
such absolute ruin that, save some twisted
cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained of the machinery which had cost
our unfortunate acquaintance so dearly.
Large masses of nickel and of tin were discovered stored in an out-house, but no
coins were to be found, which may have explained the presence of those bulky boxes
which have been already referred to.
How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to the spot where
he recovered his senses might have remained forever a mystery were it not for the soft
mould, which told us a very plain tale.
He had evidently been carried down by two persons, one of whom had remarkably small
feet and the other unusually large ones.
On the whole, it was most probable that the silent Englishman, being less bold or less
murderous than his companion, had assisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out
of the way of danger.
"Well," said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return once more to
London, "it has been a pretty business for me!
I have lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what have I gained?"
"Experience," said Holmes, laughing.
"Indirectly it may be of value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain
the reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your existence."
>
THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
Adventure X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR
The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have long ceased to be
a subject of interest in those exalted circles in which the unfortunate bridegroom
moves.
Fresh scandals have eclipsed it, and their more piquant details have drawn the gossips
away from this four-year-old drama.
As I have reason to believe, however, that the full facts have never been revealed to
the general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmes had a considerable share in
clearing the matter up, I feel that no
memoir of him would be complete without some little sketch of this remarkable
episode.
It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when I was still sharing
rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came home from an afternoon stroll to find
a letter on the table waiting for him.
I had remained indoors all day, for the weather had taken a sudden turn to rain,
with high autumnal winds, and the Jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of
my limbs as a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence.
With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had surrounded myself with
a cloud of newspapers until at last, saturated with the news of the day, I
tossed them all aside and lay listless,
watching the huge crest and monogram upon the envelope upon the table and wondering
lazily who my friend's noble correspondent could be.
"Here is a very fashionable epistle," I remarked as he entered.
"Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from a fish-monger and a tide-waiter."
"Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety," he answered, smiling,
"and the humbler are usually the more interesting.
This looks like one of those unwelcome social summonses which call upon a man
either to be bored or to lie." He broke the seal and glanced over the
contents.
"Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all."
"Not social, then?" "No, distinctly professional."
"And from a noble client?"
"One of the highest in England." "My dear fellow, I congratulate you."
"I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my client is a matter of
less moment to me than the interest of his case.
It is just possible, however, that that also may not be wanting in this new
investigation. You have been reading the papers diligently
of late, have you not?"
"It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in the corner.
"I have had nothing else to do." "It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be
able to post me up.
I read nothing except the criminal news and the agony column.
The latter is always instructive.
But if you have followed recent events so closely you must have read about Lord St.
Simon and his wedding?" "Oh, yes, with the deepest interest."
"That is well.
The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord St. Simon.
I will read it to you, and in return you must turn over these papers and let me have
whatever bears upon the matter.
This is what he says: "'MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES:--Lord
Backwater tells me that I may place implicit reliance upon your judgment and
discretion.
I have determined, therefore, to call upon you and to consult you in reference to the
very painful event which has occurred in connection with my wedding.
Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is acting already in the matter, but he assures me
that he sees no objection to your co- operation, and that he even thinks that it
might be of some assistance.
I will call at four o'clock in the afternoon, and, should you have any other
engagement at that time, I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is of
paramount importance.
Yours faithfully, ST. SIMON.'
"It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen, and the noble
lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink upon the outer side of his right
little finger," remarked Holmes as he folded up the epistle.
"He says four o'clock. It is three now.
He will be here in an hour."
"Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon the subject.
Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in their order of time, while I
take a glance as to who our client is."
He picked a red-covered volume from a line of books of reference beside the
mantelpiece. "Here he is," said he, sitting down and
flattening it out upon his knee.
"'Lord Robert Walsingham de Vere St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral.'
Hum! 'Arms: Azure, three caltrops in chief over
a fess sable.
Born in 1846.' He's forty-one years of age, which is
mature for marriage. Was Under-Secretary for the colonies in a
late administration.
The Duke, his father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs.
They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct descent, and Tudor on the distaff side.
Ha!
Well, there is nothing very instructive in all this.
I think that I must turn to you Watson, for something more solid."
"I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I, "for the facts are
quite recent, and the matter struck me as remarkable.
I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew that you had an inquiry on hand and
that you disliked the intrusion of other matters."
"Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square furniture van.
That is quite cleared up now--though, indeed, it was obvious from the first.
Pray give me the results of your newspaper selections."
"Here is the first notice which I can find.
It is in the personal column of the Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks
back: 'A marriage has been arranged,' it says, 'and will, if rumour is correct, very
shortly take place, between Lord Robert St.
Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty Doran, the only daughter of
Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San Francisco, Cal., U.S.A.'
That is all."
"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his long, thin legs towards the
fire. "There was a paragraph amplifying this in
one of the society papers of the same week.
Ah, here it is: 'There will soon be a call for protection in the marriage market, for
the present free-trade principle appears to tell heavily against our home product.
One by one the management of the noble houses of Great Britain is passing into the
hands of our fair cousins from across the Atlantic.
An important addition has been made during the last week to the list of the prizes
which have been borne away by these charming invaders.
Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself for over twenty years proof against the little
god's arrows, has now definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss Hatty
Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire.
Miss Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face attracted much attention at
the Westbury House festivities, is an only child, and it is currently reported that
her dowry will run to considerably over the
six figures, with expectancies for the future.
As it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has been compelled to sell his
pictures within the last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has no property of his own
save the small estate of Birchmoor, it is
obvious that the Californian heiress is not the only gainer by an alliance which will
enable her to make the easy and common transition from a Republican lady to a
British peeress.'"
"Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning. "Oh, yes; plenty.
Then there is another note in the Morning Post to say that the marriage would be an
absolutely quiet one, that it would be at St. George's, Hanover Square, that only
half a dozen intimate friends would be
invited, and that the party would return to the furnished house at Lancaster Gate which
has been taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran.
Two days later--that is, on Wednesday last- -there is a curt announcement that the
wedding had taken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at Lord
Backwater's place, near Petersfield.
Those are all the notices which appeared before the disappearance of the bride."
"Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start.
"The vanishing of the lady."
"When did she vanish, then?" "At the wedding breakfast."
"Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised
to be; quite dramatic, in fact."
"Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common."
"They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during the honeymoon; but I
cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt as this.
Pray let me have the details."
"I warn you that they are very incomplete." "Perhaps we may make them less so."
"Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a morning paper of
yesterday, which I will read to you.
It is headed, 'Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding':
"'The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into the greatest consternation
by the strange and painful episodes which have taken place in connection with his
wedding.
The ceremony, as shortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the
previous morning; but it is only now that it has been possible to confirm the strange
rumours which have been so persistently floating about.
In spite of the attempts of the friends to hush the matter up, so much public
attention has now been drawn to it that no good purpose can be served by affecting to
disregard what is a common subject for conversation.
"'The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, Hanover Square, was a very quiet
one, no one being present save the father of the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the
Duchess of Balmoral, Lord Backwater, Lord
Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (the younger brother and sister of the
bridegroom), and Lady Alicia Whittington.
The whole party proceeded afterwards to the house of Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster