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SHERLOCK HOLMES

CONAN DOYLE'S

BEST BOOKS

J

IN THREE VOLUMES

Illustrated

^ ^ A STUDY IN SCARLET::!!^

AND OTHER STORIES ,

X,T)I

SHERLOCK HOLMES EDITION

^

0\X^

^•\

NEW YORK

-^V. F. COLLIER S* SON, PUBLISHERS

CONTENTS.

A STUDY IN. SCARLET.

PART I. -BEING A REPRINT FROM THE REMINISCENCES OF

JOHN H. WATSON, M.D., LATE OF THE ARMY

MEDICAL DEPARTMENT.

I. Mr. Sherlock Holmes 5

II. The Science of Deduction 18

III. The Lauriston Ga/rdens Mystery 33

IV. What John Ranee had to Tell 50

V. Our Advertisement Brings a Visitor Gl

VI. Tobias Gregson Shows What He Can Do 72

VII. Light in the Darkness 80

PART II.— THE COUNTRY OF THE SAINTS.

I. On the Great Alkali Plain 100

11. The Flower of Utah 116

III. John Ferrier Talks With the Prophet 127

IV. A Flight for Life 135

V. The Avenging Angels 141)

VI. A Continuation of the Reminiscences of John H. Wat-
son, M.D 163

VII. The Conclusion 180

A Scandal in Bohemia 1^9

A Case of Identity 225

My Friend the Murderer 253

The Surgeon of Gaster Fell:

I. How the Woman Came to Kirkby-Malhouso 2vSl

II. How I Went Forth to Gaster Tell 291

III. Of the Gray Cottage in the Glen 302

IV. Of the Man Who Came in the Night 316

Cyprian Overbeck Wells 327

The Ring of Titoth '. 355

John Huxfords Hiatus 383

THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK
HOLMES

BY DR. HAROLD EMERY JONES

The writer was a fellow-student of Conan Doyle. Together they attended
the surgical demonstrations of Joseph Bell, at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary.
This man exhibited incredibly acute and sure deductive powers in diagnosis
and in guessing the vocation of patients from external signs. Sir Henry
Littlejohn, another medical lecturer heard by the two students, was remark-
able for his sagacious expert testimony, leading to the conviction of many a
criminal. Thus is the character of Sherlock Holmes easily and naturally
accounted for, and the absurd fiction that Conan Doyle drew upon Poe for his
ideas is silenced forever.

When it was known that Dr. Conan Dojle had de-
cided on bringing Sherlock Holmes back to the land
of the living, a number of his admirers were fearful
lest the author wreck his own reputation and destroy
the interesting and unique character of Sherlock
Holmes, by attempting what was seemingly an im-
possibility or, at any rate, an absurdity. Conan
Doyle's friends, however, had supreme confidence in
his ability to revivify Sherlock Holmes in an artistic
and natural manner. After "The Adventure of the
Empty House,'' admirers and friends could not but
exclaim in unison: "How simple! How plausible!
How clever !"

The great mystery, which has as yet never been
cleared up, is whether Holmes ever really existed. Is
Holmes merely the creation of Doyle's ingenious

1 Vol. 1 ^^^

11 THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

brain ? Or is there really an individual who is the
living embodiment of Sherlock Holmes ?

Conan Doyle is essentially an Edinburgh product.
He was born there. His medical studies were pur-
sued in that ancient city of medical lore. His father
was a well-known artist. He himself was the nephew
of the famous Dicky Doyle, and his grandfather was
the celebrated caricaturist John Doyle, known to the
public as H. B. So the author had, to say the least,
a heritage of promise. His first literary venture was
as editor of a school magazine in Germany, where he
was sent to receive his early education. Prior to that
he had attended a private school in England. Leav-
ing Germany, he returned to Edinburgh, where he
entered the University for the purpose of studying
medicine.

To a man of Doyle's alertness, memory, and im-
agination, this training was invaluable. It was in
the infirmary wards at Edinburgh, in the dispen-
saries, and in the out-patient department that he first
encountered that subtle and wonderful character
who is now world-renowned, the original of the
great detective, Sherlock Holmes.

All Edinburgh medical students remember Joseph
Bell — Joe Bell — as they called him. Always alert,
always up and doing, nothing ever escaped that keen
eye of his. He read both patients and students like
so many open books. His diagnosis was almost never
at fault.

THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES iii

One would never dream, by looking through ''Who's
Who" (in England), that the person described as fol-
lows is the original of the great detective, Sherlock
Holmes :

"Joseph Bell, M.D., F.R.C.S., Edinburgh; con-
sulting Surgeon to the Royal Infirmary and Royal
Hospital for Sick Children. Member of University
Court, Edinburgh University ; bom in Edinburgh in
the year 183Y. The eldest son of Benjamin Bell,
Surgeon, and of Cecilia Craigie. Married to Edith
Katherine, daughter of the Honorable James Erskine
Murray. Went through the ordinary course of a
Hospital Surgeon at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary,
from Dresser to Senior Surgeon and Consulting Sur-
geon. Twenty-three years (1873-96) editor of the
'Edinburgh Medical Journal.' "

Yet he is the original Sherlock Holmes — ^the Edin-
burgh medical students' ideal — ^who could tell pa-
tients their habits, their occupations, nationality, and
often their names, and who rarely, if ever, made a
mistake. Oftentimes he would call upon one of the
students to diagnose the cases for him. Telling the
House Surgeon to usher in a new patient, he de-
lighted in putting the deductive powers of the student
to the test, with results generally amusing, except to
the poor student victim himself.

This is Conan Doyle's description of Joseph Bell :
"He would sit in the patients' waiting-room, with a
face like a Red Indian, and diagnose the people as

IV THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

they came in, before even they opened their mouths.
He would tell them their symptoms, and would even
give them details of their past life, and he would
hardly ever make a mistake."

What Edinburgh student of Conan Doyle's student
years can fail to recognize in the stoic-faced professor,
Joe Bell, the "king of deduction" ?

"What is the matter with this man, sir ?" he sud-
denly inquired of a trembling student. "Come down,
sir, and look at him ! l^o ! You mustn't touch him.
Use your eyes, sir! Use your ears, use your brain,
your bump of perception, and use your powers of de-
duction."

After looking at the patient, the embryonic Holmes
blurted out: "Hip-joint diease, sir!"

"Hip-nothing !" Bell retorted. "The man's limp is
not from his hip, but from his foot, or rather from
his feet. Were you to observe closely, you would see
that there are slits, cut by a knife, in those parts of
the shoes where the pressure of the shoe is greatest
against the foot. The man is a sufferer from corns,
gentlemen, and has no hip trouble at all. He has
not come here to be treated for corns, gentlemen. We
are not chiropodists. His trouble is of a much more
serious nature. This is a case of chronic alcoholism,
gentlemen. The rubicund nose, the puffed, bloated
face, the bloodshot eyes, the tremulous hands and
twitching face muscles, with the quick, pulsating
temporal arteries, all show this. These deductions,

THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES V

gentlemen, must, however, be confirmed by absolute
and concrete evidence. In this instance my diagnosis
is confirmed by the fact of my seeing the neck of a
whiskey-bottle protruding from the patient's right-
hand coat pocket.

"From close observation and deduction, gentlemen,
you can make a correct diagnosis of any and every
case. However, never neglect to ratify your deduc-
tions, to substantiate your diagnosis with the stetho-
scope, and by other recognized and every-day methods
of diagnosis."

Of another patient he would say: "Gentlemen, we
have here a man who is either a cork-cutter or a slater.
If you will only use your eyes a moment you will be
able to define a slight hardening — a regular callous,
gentlemen — on one side of his forefinger, and a thick-
ening on the outside of his thumb, a sure sign that he
follows the one occupation or the other."

Or again : "Gentlemen, a fisherman ! You will no-
tice that, though this is a very hot summer's day, the
patient is wearing top-boots. When he sat on the
chair they were plainly visible. 'No one but a sailor
would wear top-boots at this season of the year. The
shade of tan on his face shows him to be a coast-sailor,
and not a deep-sea sailor — a sailor who makes foreign
lands. His tan is that produced by one climate, a
'local tan,' so to speak. A knife scabbard shows be-
neath his coat, the kind used by fishermen in this part
of the world. He is concealing a quid of tobacco in

VI THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

the furthest corner of his mouth and manages it very
adroitly indeed, gentlemen. The summary of these
deductions shows that this man is a fisherman.
Further, to prove the correctness of these deductions,
I notice several fish-scales adhering to his clothes and
hands, while the odor of fish announced his arrival
in a most marked and striking manner.''

On one occasion he called upon a student to diag-
nose a case. The student made a miserable failure
of it.

"Get out your notebook, man," said Bell, "and see
whether you can't express your thoughts that way."
Then, turning to the class, the Professor continued:
"The gentleman has ears and he hears not, eyes and
he sees not ! You come from Wales, don't you, sir ?"
— again turning to the poor victim — "I thought so!
A man who says ^silling' for shilling, w^ho rattles his
R's, who has a peculiar, rough, broad accent like
yours, sir, is not a Scotchman. You are not an Irish-
man ! You are not an Englishman ! Your speech
^smacks of Wales.' And to clinch the matter, gentle-
men"— once more addressing the class — "when I
asked Mr. Edward Jones — that is his name, gentle-
men— to transfer his thoughts to paper, he nervously
pulled out his notebook, and, to his chagrin, with it a
letter. Mr. Jones endeavored to palm the letter, gen-
tlemen ; but he is evidently a little out of training at
present, as he blundered most beautifully. The post-
mark shows that the letter was posted yesterday morn-

THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES vii

ing at Cardiff. The address was written by a female
— undoubtedly Mr. Jones's sweetheart — for the very
sight of it caused our friend to blush furiously. It
was addressed to Mr. Edward Jones! Now, gentle-
men ! Cardiff is in South Wales, and the name Jones
proclaims our friend a Welshman."

According to Doyle, BelPs faculty of deduction
was at times highly dramatic. "Ah," he would say
to one of the patients, "you are a soldier, and a non-
commissioned officer at that. You have served in Ber-
muda. Now how do I know that, gentlemen ? Be-
cause he came into the room without even taking his
hat off, as he would go into an orderly room. He was
a soldier. A slight, authoritative air, combined with
his age, shows that he was a non-commissioned officer.
A rash on his forehead tells me he was in Bermuda
and subject to a certain rash known only there."

Bell was as full of dry humor and satire, and he
was as jealous of his reputation, as the detective Sher-
lock Holmes ever thought of being.

One day, in the lecture theatre, he gave the stu-
dents a long talk on the necessity for the members of
the medical profession cultivating their senses — sight,
smell, taste, and hearing. Before him on a table
stood a large tumbler filled with a dark, amber-colored
liquid.

"This, gentlemen," announced the Professor, "con-
tains a very potent drug. To the taste it is intensely
bitter. It is most offensive to the sense of smell.

Vlll THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

Yet, as far as the sense of sight is concerned — that
is, in color — it is no different from dozens of other
liquids.

^^Xow I want to see how many of you gentlemen
have educated your powers of perception. Of course,
we might easily analyze this chemically, and find out
what it is. But I want you to test it by smell and
taste; and, as I don't ask anything of my students
which I wouldn't be willing to do myself, I will taste
it before passing it round."

Here he dipped his finger in the liquid, and placed
it in his mouth. The tumbler was passed round.
With wry and sour faces the students followed the
Professor's lead. One after another tasted the vile
decoction; varied and amusing were the grimaces
made. The tumbler, having gone the round, was re-
turned to the Professor.

^^Gentlemen," said he, with a laugh, "I am deeply
grieved to find that not one of you has developed
this power of perception, which I so often speak
about ; for if you had watched me closely, you would
have found that, while I placed my forefinger in the
medicine, it was the middle finger which found its
way into my mouth."

These methods of Bell impressed Doyle greatly at
the time. The impression made was a lasting one.

But, while Joseph Bell is the original Sherlock
Holmes, another Edinburgh professor "had a finger
in the pie," so to speak.

THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES ix

While Joseph Bell gave Doyle the idea of the
character Holmes, the man who, unknowingly ^xir-
haps, influenced Doyle in adapting that character
to the detection of crime, was Sir Henry Littlejohn.

"Little-John," as the students called him, was the
Police Surgeon and the Medical Officer of Health to
the City of Edinburgh. He was also Lecturer on
Forensic Medicine and Public Health at the Poyal
College of Surgeons.

No teacher ever took a greater interest in his stu-
dents than did Sir Henry. He not only lectured to
"his boys" — as he always spoke of them— in the lec-
ture-room, but he took them to the city slaughter-
houses, and to the reservoirs which supply Edin-
burgh with water. Here he would explain the why
and the wherefore of hygiene. As Police Surgeon
he had unlimited liberties and unequaled facilities
for the study of crime and criminals. It was a com-
mon but interesting sight to see the dapper Sir Henry
Littlejohn, little both in stature -and name, walking
along the street with a crowd of medical students
trailing along behind. His lectures on crime and
criminals were always entertaining and instructive,
as they were generally straightforward statements of
personal experiences.

While Bell was lecturing deduction and percep-
tion into Doyle's receptive and imaginative brain,
Sir Henry Littlejohn was giving Doyle material for
his detective stories.

X THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

Whenever a mysterious or suspected murder was
perpetrated, Sir Henry loved to ferret out the crimi-
nals and clear up the crime. He always gave expert
medical evidence in the law courts, and, being Police
Surgeon, of necessity testified for the Crown on be-
half of the prosecution.

It was a red-letter day for Edinburgh medical stu-
dents when Sir Heniy was due in the witness-box.
How they flocked around the courthouse, and how
they fought to gain an entrance! Even standing-
room was at a premium on these occasions ; one
and all were anxious to hear their "Little-John"
testify. For Sir Henry never got the worst of the
argument. He was never entrapped by the smartest
of lawyers, and never disconcerted by the severest
of cross-examinations.

One case, out of hundreds of a similar kind, will
exemplify his knowledge of criminals and crime, and
show his readiness of repartee.

A woman was charged with the poisoning of her
husband. Arsenic had been found in the stomach
of the dead man. The prosecution failed, however,
to prove that the woman had purchased arsenic. As
the law in the British Isles is very explicit and
severe in its restriction of the sale of poisons, and
at all times is strictly enforced, the defence made
much of the failure of the prosecution to prove the
purchasing of the arsenic. No poison in class A —
in which class arsenic is placed — can be bought at

THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES X)

any chemist's shop unless the sale is entered in the
Government Poison Book — a book kept s])ecially for
that purpose. The signatures of vender, buyer, and
a witness, known to both parties, must be attached.
No record of the sale of arsenic could be found in
any of the city druggists' establishments. Sir Hen-
ry's attention was called to this fact by the attorney
for the defence.

^'So you found arsenic in the stomach of the de-
ceased ?" inquired the lawyer.

^'I did," answered Sir Henry, in his usual quick
and decided manner.

"But where could the arsenic have been procured ?"
questioned the attorney. "We have no record of the
sale !"

"Why," retorted Littlejohn scornfully, "there is
enough arsenic in the room where the man slept to
poison a small army, right at hand, on the very walls
of the room itself. The green wall-paper, with which
the walls of the room are covered, is saturated with
arsenic."

"True, perhaps," replied the man of law, "but
surely the defendant is not sufficiently versed in
chemistry — she is certainly not well enough edu-
cated— to understand the very difficult and compli-
cated process of extracting arsenic from wall-paper,
even if the wall-paper contains arsenic — which is
very, very doubtful."

"Some women's intuition is greater than certain

XU THE ORIGINAL OF SHERLOCK HOLMES

men's knowledge," answered Sir Henry, pointedly
and dryly.

The cross-examining lawyer immediately ceased
his questioning. The woman later admitted her
crime, and Little-John again scored.

The University, with its associations, with its an-
tiquity, with the respect and affection shown profes-
sors by students, with the unlimited trouble taken by
professors with the students, and the general atmos-
phere and environments of both the University and
Edinburgh itself, had undoubtedly an influence upon
Conan Doyle's literary work, and a potent influence
at that.

A STUDY IN SCARLET.

PART I.

BEING A REPRINT FROM THE REMINISCENCES OF JOHN H.
WATSON, M. D., LATE OF THE ARMY MEDICAL DEPARTMENT.

CHAPTEE I.

ME. SHERLOCK HOLMES.

In tlie year 1878 I took mj degree of Doctor of
Medicine of the University of London, and proceeded
to !N"etley to go through the course prescribed for sur-
geons in the army. Having completed my studies
there, I was duly attached to the Fifth Northumber-
land Fusiliers as assistant surgeon. The regiment was
stationed in India at the time, and before I could join it
the second Afghan war had broken out. On landing at
Bombay I learned that my corps had advanced through
the passes, and was already deep in the enemy's coun-
try. I followed, however, with many other officers

6 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

who were in the same situation as myself, and suc-
ceeded in reaching Candahar in safety, where I found
my regiment, and at once entered upon my new duties.

The campaign brought honors and promotion to
many, but for me it had nothing but misfortune and
disaster. I was removed from my brigade and at-
tached to the Berkshires, with whom I served at the
fatal battle of Maiwand. There I was struck on the
shoulder by a Jezail bullet, which shattered the bone
and grazed the subclavian artery. I should have
fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis had it
not been for the devotion and courage shown by Mur-
ray, my orderly, who threw me across a pack-horse
and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British
lines.

Worn with pain, and weak from the prolonged
hardships which I had undergone, I was removed, with
a great train of wounded sufferers, to the base hospital
at Peahawur. Here I rallied, and had already im-
proved so far as to be able to walk about the wards, and
even to bask a little upon the veranda, when I was
struck down by enteric fever, that curse of our Indian
possessions. For months my life was despaired of,
and. when at last I came to myself and became con-
valescent, I was so weak and emaciated that a medical
board determined that not a day should be lost in send-
ing me back to England. I was dispatched, accord-
ingly, in the troop-ship "Orontes,'' and landed a month
later on Portsmouth jetty, with my health irretrievably

A STUDY IN SCARLET, "7

ruined, but with permission from a paternal govern-
ment to spend the next nine months in attempting to
improve it.

I had neither kith nor kin in England, and was there-
fore as free as air — or as free as an income of eleven
shillings and sixpence a day will permit a man to be.
Under such circumstances I naturally gravitated to
London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers
and idlers of the empire are in-esistibly drained.
There I stayed for some time at a private hotel in the
Strand, leading a comfortless, meaningless existence,
and spending such money as I had considerably more
freely than I ought. So alarming did the state of my
finances become, that I soon realized I must either
leave the metropolis and rusticate somewhere in the
country, or that I must make a complete alteration in
my style of living. Choosing the latter alternative, I
began by making up my mind to leave the hotel, and
to take up my quarters in some less pretentious and
less expensive domicile.

On the very day that I had come to this conclusion,
I was standing at the Criterion bar,' when some one
tapped me on the. shoulder, and turning round I recog-
nized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under
me at Bart's. The sight of a friendly face in the great
wilderness of London is a pleasant thing indeed to a
lonely man. In old days Stamford had never been a
particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with
enthusiasm, and he, in his turn, appeared to be de-

8 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

lighted to see me. In the exuberance of my joy I
asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and we
started off together in a hansom.

"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Wat-
son?'* he asked, in undisguised wonder, as we rattled
through the crowded London streets. "You are as
thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."

I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had
hardly concluded it by the time that we reached our
destination.

"Poor devil!" he said, commiseratihgly, after he had
listened to my misfortunes. "What are you up to
now?"

"Looking for lodgings," I answered. "Trying to
solve the problem as to whether it is possible to get
comfortable rooms at a reasonable price."

"That is a strange thing," remarked my companion;
"you are the second man to-day that has used that ex-
pression to me."

"And who was the first?" I asked.

"A fellow who is working at the chemical labora-
tory up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself
this morning because he could not get some one to go
halves with him in some nice rooms which he had
found, and which were too much for his purse."

"By Jove!" I cried, "if he really wants some one to
share the rooms and the expense, I am the very man
for him. I should prefer having a partner to being
alone.*'

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 9

Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over
his wine-glass.

^^You don't know Sherlock Holmes yet," he said;
"perhaps you would not care for him as a constant
companion."

"Why, what is there against him?"

"Oh, I didn't say there was anything against him.
He is a little queer in his ideas — an enthusiast in some
branches of science. As far as I know he is a decent
fellow enough.

"A medical student, I suppose?" said I.

"IN'o; I have no idea what he intends to go in for.
I believe he is well up in anatomy, and he is a first-
class chemist ; but, as far as I know, he has never taken
out any systematic medical classes. His studies are
very desultory and eccentric, but he has amassed a lot
of out-of-the-way knowledge which would astonish his
professors."

"Did you never ask him what he was going in for?"
I asked.

"jSTo; he is not a man that it is easy to draw out,
though he can be communicative enough when the
fancy seizes him."

"I should like to meet him," I said. "If I am to
lodge with any one, I should prefer a man of studious
and quiet habits. I am not strong enough yet to
stand much noise or excitement. I had enough of
both in Afghanistan to last me for the remainder of

10 JL STUDY IN SCARLET.

my natural existence. How could I meet this friend
of yours?"

"He is sure to be at the laboratory. He either
avoids the place for weeks, or else he works there from
morning to night. If you like, we shall drive round
together after luncheon."

"Certainly," I answered; and the conversation
drifted away into other channels.

As we made our way to the hospital after leaving
the Hoibom, Stamford gave me a few more particulars
about the gentleman whom I proposed to take as a fel-
low-lodger.

"You musn't blame me if you don't get on with
him," he said; "I know nothing more of him than 1
have learned from meeting him occasionally in the
laboratory. You proposed this arrangement, so you
must not hold me responsible."

"If we don't get on it will be easy to part com-
pany," I answered. "It seems to me, Stamford," I
added, looking hard at my companion, "that you have
some reason for washing your hands of the matter.
Is this fellow's temper so formidable, or what is it?
Don't be mealy-mouthed about it."

"It is not easy to express the inexpressible," he an-
swered, with a laugh. "Holmes is a little too scientific
for my tastes — it approaches to cold-bloodedness. I
could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of the
latest vegetable alkaloid, not out of malevolence, you

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 11

understand, but simply out of a spirit of inquiry in
order to have an accurate idea of the effects. To do
him justice, I think that he would take it himself with
the same readiness. He appears to have a passion for
definite and exact knowledge."

"Very right, too."

"Yes; but it may be pushed to excess. When it
comes to beating the subjects in the dissecting-rooms
with a stick, it is certainly taking rather a bizarre
shape."

"Beating the subjects !"

"Yes; to verify how far bruises may be produced
after death. I saw him at it with my own eyes."

"And yet you say he is not a medical student?"

"No. Heaven knows what the objects of his studies
are! But here we are, and you must form your own
impressions about him."

As he spoke we turned down a narrow lane and
passed through a small side door, which opened into a
"wdng of the great hospital. It was familiar ground
to me, and I needed no gTiiding as we ascended the
bleak stone staircase and made our way down the long
corridor, with its ^dsta of whitewashed wall and dun-
colored doors. N^ear the further end a low, arched
passage branched away from it and led to the chemical
laboratory.

This was a lofty chamber, lined and littered with
countless bottles. Broad, low tables were scattered
about, which bristled with retorts, test-tubes, and little

12 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Bunsen lamps, with their blue, flickering flames.
There was only one student in the room, who was bend-
ing over a distant table absorbed in his work. At the
sound of our steps he glanced round and sprang to his
feet with a cry of pleasure.

^^I've found it! IVe found it!" he shouted to my
companion, running toward us with a test-tube in his
hand. "I have found a reagent which is precipitated
by haemoglobin, and by nothing else."

Had he discovered a gold mine greater delight could
not have shone upon his features.

"Dr. Watson — Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said Stam-
ford, introducing us.

"How are you?" he said, cordially, gripping my
hand with a strength for which I should hardly have
given him credit. "You have been in Afghanistan,
I perceive."

"How on earth did you know that?" I asked, in as-
tonishment.

"jSTever mind," said he, chuckling to himself. "The
question now is about haemoglobin. 'No doubt yon
see the significance of this discovery of mine?"

"It is interesting, chemically, no doubt," I an-
swered ; "but practically"

"Why, man, it is the most practical medico-legal
discovery for years. Don't you see that it gives us
an infallible test for blood-stains? Come over here,
now!" He seized me by the coat-sleeve in his eager-
ness and drew me over to the table at which he had

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 13

been working. "Let us have some fresh blood," he
said, digging a long bodkin into his finger and draw-
ing off the resulting drop of blood in a chemical
pipette. "!N'ow, I add this small quantity of blood to
a litre of water. You perceive that the resulting mix-
ture has the appearance of true water. The propor-
tion of blood cannot be more than one in a milHon. I
have no doubt, however, that we shall be able to obtain
the characteristic reaction."

As he spoke he threw into the vessel a few white
crystals, and then added some drops of a transparent
fluid. In an instant the contents assumed a dull ma-
hogany color, and a brownish dust was precipitated to
the bottom of the glass jar.

"Ha! ha!" he cried, clapping his hands and looking
as delighted as a child w^ith a new toy. "What do you
think of that r

"It seems to be a very delicate test," I remarked.

"Beautiful ! beautiful ! The old guaiacum test was
very clumsy and uncertain. So is the microscopic ex-
amination for blood-corpuscles. The latter is value-
less if the stains are a few hours old. Now, this ap-
pears to act as well whether the blood is old or new.
Had this test been invented, there are hundreds of men
now walking the earth who would long ago have paid
the penalty of their crimes."

"Indeed!" I murmured.

"Criminal cases are continually hinging upon that
one point. A man is suspected of a crime months, per-

\

14 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

haps, after it has been committed. His linen or
clothes are examined, and brownish stains discovered
upon them. Are they blood-stains, or mud-stains, or
rust-stains, or fruit-stains, or what are they? That is
a question which has puzzled many an expert; and
why? Because there was no reliable test. Now we
have the Sherlock Holmes test, and there will no
longer be any difficulty."

His eyes fairly glittered as he spoke, and he put his
hand over his heart and bowed as if to some applaud-
ing crowd conjured up by his imagination.

"You are to be congratulated," I remarked, con-
siderably surprised at his enthusiasm.

"There was the case of Yon Bischoff at Frankfort
last year. He would certainly have been hung had
this test been in existence. Then there was Mason, of
Bradford, and the notorious MuUer, and Lefevre, of
Montpellier, and Samson, of New Orleans. I could
name a score of cases in which it would have been de-
cisive."

"You seem to be a walking calendar of crime," said
Stamford, with a laugh. "You might start a paper
on those lines. Call it the Tolice News of the Past.' "

"Very interesting reading it might be made, too,"
remarked Sherlock Holmes, sticking a small piece of
plaster over the prick of his finger. "I have to be
careful," he continued, turning to me with a smile,
"for I dabble with poisons a good deal."

He held out his hand as he spoke, and I noticed that

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 15

it was all mottled over with similar pieces of plaster
and discolored with strong acids.

"We came here on business/' said Stamford, sitting
down on a three-legged stool and pushing another one
in my direction with his foot. "My friend here wants
to take diggings, and as you were complaining that
you could get no one to go halves with you, I thought
that I had better bring you together.''

Sherlock Holmes seemed delighted at the idea of
sharing his rooms with me.

"I have my eye on a suite in Baker street," he said,
"which would suit us down to the ground. You don't
mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope?"

"I always smoke ^ship's' myself," I answered.

"That's good enough. I generally have chemicals
about, and occasionally do experiments. Would that
annoy you?"

"By no means."

"Let me see — what are my other shortcomings? T
get in the dumps at times, and don't open my mouth
for days on end. You must not think I am sulky
when I do that. Just let me alone, and I'll soon be all
right. What have you to confess, now? It's just as
well for two fellows to know the worst of each other
before they begin to live together."

I laughed at this cross-examination.

"I keep a bull-pup," I said, "and object to rows,
because my nerves are shaken, and I get up at all sorts
of ungodly hours, and I am extremely lazy. I have

16 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

another set of vices when I'm well, bur those are the
principal ones at present."

"Do you include violin-playing in your category of
rows?" he asked, anxiously.

"It depends on the player," I answered. "A well-
played violin is a treat for the gods; a badly played

one"-

^Oh, that's all right," he cried, with a merry laugh.
"I think we may consider the thing as settled — that is,
if the rooms are agreeable to you."

"When shall we see them?"

"Call for me here at noon to-morrow, and we'll go
together and settle everything," he answered.

"All right — noon exactly," said I, shaking his hand.

We left him working among his chemicals, and we
walked together toward my hotel.

"By the way," I asked, suddenly, stopping and turn-
ing upon Stamford, "how the deuce did he know that
I had come from Afghanistan?"

My companion smiled an eiiigmatical smile.

"That's just his little peculiarity," he said. "A
good many people have wanted to know how" he finds
things out."

"Oh, a mystery, is it?" I cried, rubbing my hands.
"This is very piquant. I am much obliged to you for
bringing us together. ^The proper study of mankind
is man,' you know."

"You must study him, then," Stamford said, as he
bid me good-by. "You'll find him a knotty problem,

A. STUDY IN SCARLET. 17

though. I'll wager he learns more about you than
you about him. Good-by."

"Good-by," I answered; and strolled on to my ho-
tel, considerably interested in my new acquaintance.

2— Vol. 1

18 A STUDY. IN SCARLET^

CHAPTER II.

THE SCIENCE OF DEDUCTION.

"We met next day, as he had arranged, and inspected
the rooms at ISTo. 221 Baker Street, of which he had
spoken at our meeting. They consisted of a couple of
comfortable bedrooms and a single, large, airy sitting-
room, cheerfully furnished, and illuminated by two
broad windows. So desirable in every way were the
apartments, and so moderate did the terms seem when
divided between us, that the bargain was concluded
upon the spot, and we at once entered into possession.
That very evening I moved my things round from the
hotel, and on the following morning Sherlock Holmes
followed me with several boxes and portmanteaus.
For a day or two we were busily employed in unpack-
ing and laying out our property to the best advantage.
That done, we gradually began to settle down and to
accommodate ourselves to our new surroundings.

Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with.
He was quiet in his ways, and his habits were regular.
It was rare for him to be up after ten at night, and he

SHERLOCK HOLMES IN DISOLISE

— A Study in Scarlet

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 19

had invariably breakfasted and gone out before I roso
in the morning, Sometimes he spent his day at the
chemical laboratory, sometimes in the dissecting-
rooms, and occasionally in long walks, which appeared
to take him into the lowest portions of the city.
Notliing could exceed his energy when the working fit
was upon him; but now and again a reaction would
seize him, and for days on end he would lie upon the
sofa in the sitting-room, hardly uttering a word or mov-
ing a muscle from morning to night. On these oc-
casions I have noticed such a dreamy, vacant expres-
sion in his eyes, that I might have suspected him of
being addicted to the use of some narcotic had not the
temperance and cleanliness of his whole life forbidden
such a notion.

As the weeks went by my interest n\ him and my
curiosity as to his aims in life gradually deepened and
increased. His very person and appearance were
such as to strike the attention of the most casual ob-
server. In height he was rather over six feet, and so
excessively lean that he seemed to be considerably
taller. His eyes were sharp and piercing, save during
those intervals of torpor to which I have alluded ; and
his thin, hawk-like nose gave his whole expression an
air of alertness and decision. His chin, too, had the
prominence and squareness which mark the man of de-
termination. His hands were invariably blotted with
ink and stained with chemicals, yet he was possessed
of extraordinary delicacy of touch, as I frequently had

20 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

occasion to observe when I watched him manipulating
his fragile philosophical instruments.

The reader may set me down as a hopeless busybody
when I confess how much this man stimulated my
curiosity, and how often I endeavored to break
through the reticence which he showed on all that con-
cerned himself. Before pronouncing judgment, how-
ever, be it remembered how objectless was my life,
and how little there was to engage my attention. My
health forbade me from venturing out unless the
weather was exceptionally genial, and I had no friends
who would call upon me and break the monotony of
my daily existence. Under these circumstances I
eagerly hailed the little mystery which hung around
my companion, and spent much of my time in endeav-
oring to unravel it.

He was not studying medicine. He had himself, in
reply to a question, confirmed Stamford's opinion upon
that point. Neither did he appear to have pursued
any course of reading which might fit him for a degree
in science or any other recognized portal which would
give him an entrance into the learned world. Yet his
zeal for certain studies was remarkable, and within
eccentric limits his knowledge was so extraordinarily
ample and minute that his observations have fairly
astounded me. Surely no man would work so hard to
attain such precise information unless he had some
definite end in view. Desultory readers are seldom
remaij^able for the exactness of their learning, l^o

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 21

man burdens his mind with small matters unless he has
Bome very good reason for doing so.

His ignorance was as remarkable as his knowledge.
Of contemporary literature, philosophy, and politics
he appeared to know next to nothing. Upon my
quoting Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest
way who he might be and what he had done. My
surprise reached a climax, however, when I found in-
cidentally that he was ignorant of the Copernican
theory and of the composition of the solar system.
That any civilized human being in this nineteenth
century should not be aware that the earth traveled
round the sun appeared to be to me such an extraor-
dinary fact that I could hardly realize it.

"You appear to be astonished,'' he said, smiling at
my expression of surprise. "iJ^ow that I do know it,
I shall do my best to forget it."

"To forget it!"

"You see," he explained, "I consider that a man's
brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you
have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A
fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes
across, so that the knowledge which might be useful
to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with
a lot of others things, so that he has a difficulty in lay-
ing his hands upon it. Now, the skilful workman is
very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-
attic. He will have nothing but the tools which may
help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large

22 A STUDY JN SCARLET.

assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is
a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls
and can distend to any extent. Depend upon it, there
comes a time when for every addition of knowledge
you forget something that you knew before. It is of
the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless
facts elbowing out the useful ones."

^^But the solar system!" I protested.

"What the deuce is it to me?" he interrupted, im-
patiently; "you say that we go round the sun. If we
went round the moon it would not make a pennyworth
of difference to me or to my work."

I was on the point of asking him what that work
might be, but something in his manner showed me that
the question would be an unwelcome one. I pondered
over our short conversation, however, and endeavored
to draw my deductions from it. He said that he would
acquire no knowledg . which did not bear upon his ob-
ject. Therefore all the knowledge which he possessed
was such as would be useful to him. I enumerated in
my own mind all the various points upon which he
had shown me that he was exceptionally well in-
formed. I even took a pencil and jotted them down.
I could not help smiling at the document when I had
completed it. It ran this way:

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 28

Sherlock Holmes — his limits.

1. Knowledge of Literature — Nil.

2. '' " Philosophy — Xil.

3. " ^' Astronomy — Xil.

4. " " Politics— Feeble.

5. " ^' Botany — Variable; well up in

belladonna, opium, and poi-
sons generally. Knows noth-
ing of practical gardening.

6. " ^^ Geology — Practical, but limited.

Tells at a glance different soils
from each other; after walks
has shown me splashes upon
his trousers, and told me by
their color and consistency in
what. part of London he had
received them.

7. " " Chemistry — Profound.

8. " " Anatomy — Accurate, but un-

systematic.

9. " " Sensational Literature — Im-

mense. He appears to know
every detail of every horror
perpetrated in the century.

10. Plays the violin well.

11. Is an ex]3ert single-stick player, boxer, and swords-

man.

12. Has a good practical knowledge of British law.

24: A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"U^lien I had got so far in my list I threw it into the
fire in despair.

"If I cannot find what the fellow is driving at by
reconciling all these accomplishments, and discovering
a calling which needs them all/' I said to myself, "I
may as well give up the attempt at once."

I see that I have alluded above to his powers upon
the violin. These were very remarkable, but as ec-
centric as all his other accomplishments. That he
could play pieces, and difficult pieces, I knew well, be-
cause at my request he has played me some of Mendels-
sohn's Lieder, and other favorites. When left to
himself, however, he would seldom produce any music
or attempt any recognized air.

Leaning back in his armchair of an evening, he
would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle,
which was thrown across his knee. Sometunes the
chords were sonorous and melancholy; occasionally
they were fantastic and cheerful. Clearly they re-
flected the thoughts which possessed him, but whether
the music aided those thoughts, or whether the play-
ing was simply the result of a whim or fancy, was more
than I could determine. I might have rebelled against
these exasperating solos had it not been that he usually
terminated them by playing in quick succession a
whole series of my favorite airs, as a slight compensa-
tion for the trial upon my patience.

During the first week or so we had no callers, and I
had begun to think that my companion was as friend-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 25

less a man as I was myself. Presently, however, 1
found that lie had many acquaintances, and those in
the most different classes of society. There was one
little sallow, rat-faced, dark-eyed fellow who was in-
troduced to me as Mr. Lestrade, and who came three
or four times in a single week. One morning a young
girl called, fashionably dressed, and stayed for half an
hour or more. The same afternoon brought a gray-
headed, seedy visitor, looking like a Jew peddler, who
appeared to me to be much excited, and who was
closely followed by a slipshod elderly woman. On an-
other occasion an old white-haired gentleman had an
interview with my companion, and on another a rail-
way porter in his velveteen uniform. When any of
these nondescript individuals put in an appearance
Sherlock Holmes used to beg for the use of the sitting-
room, and I would retire to my bedroom. He always
apologized to me for putting me to this inconvenience.

^'I have to use this room as a place of business," he
said, "and these people are my clients."

Again I had an opportunity of asking him a point-
blank question, and again my delicacy prevented me
from forcing another man to confide in me. I imag-
ined at the time that he had some strong reason for
not alluding to it, But he soon dispelled the idea by
coming round to the subject of his own accord.

It was upon the 4th of March, as I have good reason
to remember, that I rose somewhat earlier than usual,
and found that Sherlock Holmes had not yet finished

26 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

his breakfast. The landlady had become so accus-
tomed to my late habits that my place had not been laid
nor my coffee prepared. With the unreasonable petu-
lance of mankind I rang the bell and gave a curt in-
timation that I was ready. Then I picked up a maga-
zine from the table and attempted to while away the
time with it, while my companion munched silently at
his toast. One of the articles had a pencil-mark at the
heading, and I naturally began to run my eye through
it.

Its somewhat ambitious title was "The Book of
Life/' and it attempted to show how much an observ-
ant mdn might learn by an accurate and systematic
examination of all that came in his way. It struck me
as being a remarkable mixture of shrewdness and ab-
surdity. The reasoning was close and intense, but
the deductions appeared to me to be far-fetched and ex-
aggerated. The writer claimed by a momentary ex-
pression, a twitch of a muscle, or a glance of an eye,
to fathom a man's inmost thoughts. Deceit, accord-
ing to him, was an impossibility in the case of one
trained to observation and analysis. His conclusions
were as infallible as so many propositions of Euclid.
So startling would his results appear to the uninitiated
that, until they learned the processes by which he had
arrived at them, they might well consider him as a
necromancer.

"From a drop of water," said the writer, "a logician
could infer the possibility of an Atlantic or a Niagara

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 27

without having seen or heard of one or the other. So
all life is a great chain, the nature of which is known
whenever we are shown a single link of it. Like all
other arts, the Science of Deduction and Analysis is
one which can only be acquired by long and patient
study, nor is life long enough to allow any mortal to
attain the highest possible perfection in it. Before
turning to those moral and mental aspects of the mat-
ter which present the greatest difficulties, let the in-
quirer begin by mastering more elementary problems.
Let him, on meeting a fellow^nortal, learn at a glance
to distinguish the history of the man, and the trade or
profession to which he belongs. Puerile as such an
exercise may seem, it sharpens the faculties of obser-
vation and teaches one where to look and what to look
for. By a man's finger-nails, by his coat-sleeve, by his
boot, by his trouser-knees, by the callosities of his fore-
finger and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt-culfs
— by each of these things a man's calling is plainly
revealed. That all united should fail to enlighten the
competent inquirer in any case is almost inconceiva-
ble."

"What ineffable twaddle!" I cried, slapping the
magazine down on the table; "I never read such rub-
bish in my life."

''What is it?" asked Sherlock Holmes.

"Why, this article," I said, pointing at it w^th my
egg-spoon as I sat down to my breakfast. "I see that
you have read it, since you have marked it. I don't

28 A STUD7 IN SCARLET.

deny that it is smartly written. It irritates me,
though. It is evidently the theory of some armchair
lounger who evolves all these neat little paradoxes in
the seclusion of his own study. It is not practical.
I should like to see him clapped down in a third-class
carriage on the Underground, and asked to give the
trades of all his fellow-travelers. I would lay a thou-
sand to one against him.''

^^You would lose your money/' Sherlock Holmes
remarked, calmly. "As for the article, I wrote it
myself."
""You!"

"Yes; I have a turn both for observation and for
deduction. The theories which I have expressed
there, and which appear to you to be so chimerical, are
really extremely practical — so practical that I depend
upon them for my bread and cheese."

"And how?" I asked, involuntarily.

"Well, I have a trade of my own. I suppose I am
the only one in the world. I'm a consulting detective,
if you can understand what that is. Here in London
we have lots of government detectives and lots of pri-
vate ones. When these fellows are at fault they come
to me, and I manage to put them on the right scent.
They lay all the evidence before me, and I am gener-
ally able, by the help of my knowledge of the history
of crime, to set them straight. There is a strong fam-
ily resemblance about misdeeds, and if you have all
the details of a thousand at your finger-ends, it is odd

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 29

if you can't unravel the thousand and first. Lestrade
is a well-known detective. He got himself into a fog
recently over a forgery case, and that was what brought
him here.''

"And these other people?"

"They are mostly sent out by private inquiry agen-
cies. They are all people who are in trouble about
something, and want a little enlightening. I listen to
their story, they listen to my comments, and then I
pocket my fee."

"But do you mean to say," I said, "that without
leaving your room you can unravel some knot which
other men can make nothing of, although they have
seen every detail for themselves?"

"Quite so. I have a kind of intuition that way.
"Now and again a case turns up which is a little more
complex. Then I have to bustle about and see things
with my own eyes. You see, I have a lot of special
knowledge which I apply to the problem, and which
facilitates matters wonderfully. Those rules of de-
duction laid do^vn in that article which aroused your
scorn are invaluable to me in practical work. Obser-
vation with me is second nature. You appeared to be
surprised when I told you, on our first meeting, that
you had come from Afghanistan."

"You were told, no doubt."

"E'othing of the sort. I knew you came from Af-
ghanistan. From long habit the train of thought ran
so swiftly through my mind that I arrived at the con-

30 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

elusion without being eonscious of intermediate steps.
There were such steps, however. The train of reason-
ing ran: ^Here is a gentleman of a medical type, but
with the air of a military man. Clearly an army doc-
tor, then. He has just come from the tropics, for his
face is dark, and that is not the natural tint of his skin,
for his wrists are fair. He has undergone hardship
and sickness, as his haggard face says clearly. His left
arm has been injured. He holds it in a stiff and un-
natural manner. Where in the tropics could an Eng-
lish army doctor have seen much hardship and got his
arm wounded. Clearly in Afghanistan.^ The whole
train of thought did not occupy a second. I then re-
marked that you came from Afghanistan, and you
were astonished."

'^It is simple enough as you explain it," I said, smil-
ing. ^^You remind me of Edgar Allan Poe's Dupin.
I had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of
stories."

Sherlock Holmes rose and lighted his pipe.

"^o doubt you think that you are complimenting
me in comparing me to Dupin," he observed. "ISTow,
in my opinion, Dupin was a very inferior fellow. That
trick of his of breaking in on his friends' thoughts with
an apropos remark after a quarter of an hour's silence
is really very showy and superficial. He had some
analytical genius, no doubt; but he was by no means
such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine."

"Have you read Gaboriau's works?" I asked.
"Does Lecoq come up to your idea of a detective?"

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 31

Sherlock Holmes sniffed sardonically.

^'Lecoq was a miserable bungler," he said, in an
angry voice; ^'he had only one thing to recommend
him, and that was his energy. That book made me
positively ill. The question was how to identify an
unknown prisoner. I could have done it in twenty-
four hours. Lecoq took six months or so. It might
be made a text-book for detectives to teach them what
to avoid."

I felt rather indignant at having two characters
whom I had admired treated in this cavalier style. T
walked over to the window, and stood looking out into
the busy street.

^^This fellow may be very clever," I said to myself,
"but he is certainly very conceited."

"There are no crimes and no criminals in these
days," he said, querulously. "What is the use of hav-
ing brains in our profession ? I know well that I have
it in me to make my name famous. 'No man lives or
has ever lived who has brought the same amount of
study and of natural talent to the detection of crime
which I have done. And what is the result? There
is no crime to detect, or, at most, some bungling vil-
lainy with a motive so transparent that even a Scotland
Yard official can see through it."

I was still annoyed at his bumptious style of conver-
sation. I thought it best to change the topic.

"I wonder what that fellow is looking for?" I asked,
pointing to a stalwart, plainly dressed individual who

32 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

was walldng slowly down the other side of the street,
looking anxiously at the numbers. He had a large
blue envelope in his hand, and was evidently the
bearer of a message.

"You mean the retired sergeant of marines,-' said
Sherlock Holmes.

"Brag and bounce!" thought I to myself. "He
knows that I cannot verify his guess."

The thought had hardly passed through my mind
when the man whom we were watching caught sight
of the number on our door, and ran rapidly across the
roadway. We heard a loud knock, a deep voice below,
and heavy steps ascending the stair.

"For Mr. Sherlock Holmes," he said, stepping into
the room and handing my friend the letter.

Here was an opportunity of taking the conceit out of
him. He little thought of this when he made that
random shot.

"May I ask, my lad," I said, blandly, "what your
trade may be?"

"Commissionaire, sir," he said, gruffly. "Uniform
away for repairs."

"And you were ?" I asked, with a slightly malicious
glance at my companion.

"A sergeant, sir; Royal Marine Light Infantry, sir.
'No answer? Right, sir."

He clicked his heels together, JiiL^ed his hant* m a
salute, and was fr^ne.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 33

CHAPTEK III.

THE LAUEISTON GARDENS MYSTERY.

I CONFESS that I was considerably startled by this
fresh proof of the practical nature of my companion's
theories. My respect for his powers of analysis in-
creased wondroiTsly. There still remained some lurk-
ing suspicion in my mind, however, that the whole
thing was a prearranged episode, intended to dazzle
me, though what earthly object he could have in tak-
ing me in was past my comprehension. When I
looked at him he had finished reading the note, and his
eyes had assumed the vacant, lack-lustre expression
which showed mental abstraction.

^^How in the world did you deduce that?" I asked.

"Deduce what?" said he, petulantly.

"Why, that he was a retired sergeant of marines."

"I have no time for trifles," he replied, brusquely;
then, with a smile, "Excuse my rudeness. You broke
the thread of my thoughts; but perhaps it is as well.
So you actually were not able to see that that man was
a sergeant of marines?"

"^^o, indeed."

"It was easier to know it than to explain why I know

34 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

it. If you were asked to prove that two and two made
four, you might find some difficulty, and yet you are
quite sure of the fact. Even across the street I could
see a great blue anchor tattooed on the back of the
fellow's hand. That smacked of the sea. He had a
military carriage, however, and regulation side-
whiskers. There we have the marine. He was a
man with some amount of self-importance and a cer-
tain air of command. You must have observed the
way in which he held his head and swung his cane. A
steady, respectable, middle-aged man, too, on the face
of him — all facts which led me to believe that he had
been a sergeant."

"Wonderful!'' I ejaculated.

"Commonplace," said Holmes, though I thought
from his expression that he was pleased at my evident
surprise and admiration. "I said just now that there
were no criminals. It appears that I am wrong — look
at this!" He threw me over the note which the com-
missionaire had brought.

"Why," I cried, as I cast my eye over it, "this is
terrible!"

"It does seem to be a little out of the common," he
remarked, calmly. "Would you mind reading it to
me aloud?"

This is the letter which I read to him :

"My Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes:

"There has been a bad business during the night at

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 35

8 Lauriston Gardens, off the Brixton road. Our man
on the beat saw a light there about two in the morning,
and, as the house was an empty one, suspected that
something was amiss. He found the door open, and
in the front room, which is bare of furniture, discov-
ered the body of a gentleman, well dressed, and having
cards in his pocket bearing the name of ^Enoch J.
Drebber, Cleveland, Ohio, U. S. A.' There had been
no robbery, nor is there any evidence as to how the
man met his death. There are marks of blood in the
room, but there is no wound upon his person. We are
at a loss as to how he came into the empty house; in-
deed, the whole affair is a puzzler. If you can come
round to the house any time before twelve, you will
find me there. I have left everything ^in statu quo'
until I hear from you. If you are unable to come I
shall give you fuller details, and would esteem it a
great kindness if you would favor me with your
opinion.

"Yours faithfully,

"Tobias Gregson.''

"Gregson is the smartest of the Scotland Yarders,"
my friend remarked; "he and Lestrade are the pick of
a bad lot. They are both quick and energetic, but
conventional — shockingly so. They have their knives
into each other, too. They are as jealous as a pair of
professional beauties. There will be some fun over
this case if they are both put upon the scent.''

9$ A STUDY IN SCARLET.

I was amazed at the calm way in which he rippled

on.

Surely there is not a moment to be lost," I cried;
"shall I go and order yon a cab ?''

*^I am not sure about whether I shall go. I am the
most incurably lazy devil that ever stood in shoe-
leather — that is, when the fit is on me, for I can be spry
enough at times."

"Why, it is just such a chance as you have been long-
ing for."

"My dear fellow, what does it matter to me ? Sup-
posing I unravel the whole matter, you may be sure
that Gregson, Lestrade & Co. will pocket all the credit.
That comes of being an unofficial personage."

"But he begs you to help him."

"Yes. He knows that I am his superior, and ac-
knowledges it to me; but he would cut his tongue out
before he would own it to any third person. How-
ever, we may as well go and have a look. I shall work
it out on my own hook. I may have a laugh at them,
if I have nothing else. Come on!"

He hustled on his overcoat, and bustled about in a
way that showed that an energetic fit had superseded
the apathetic one.

"Get your hat," he said.

"You wish me to come?"

"Yes, if you have nothing better to do."

A minute later we were both in a hansom, driving
furiously for the Brixton road.

A STUDY JN 8CARLET. 37

It was a foggy, cloudy morning, and a dun-colored
veil hung over the house-tops, looking like the reflec-
tion of the mud-colored streets beneath. My compan-
ion was in the best of spirits, and prattled away about
Cremona fiddles, and the difference between a Stradi-
varius and an Amati. As for myself, I was silent, for
the dull weather and the melancholy business upon
which we were engaged depressed my spirits.

^'You don^t seem to give much thought to the matter
in hand," I said at last, interrupting Holmes' musical
disquisition.

^'No data yet," he answered. ^'Tt is a capital mis-
take to theorize before you have all the evidence. It
biases the judgment."

"You will have your data soon," I remarked, point-
ing with my finger; "this is the Brixton road, and that
is the house, if I am not very much mistaken."

"So it is. Stop, driver, stop!" "VVe were still a
hundred yards or so from it, but he insisted upon oui'
alighting, and we finished our journey upon foot.

No. 3 Lauriston Gardens wore an ill-omened and
minatory look. It w^as one of four which stood back
some little way from the street, two being occupied and
two empty. The latter looked out with three tiers
of vacant, melancholy windows, which were blank and
dreary, save that here and there a "To Let" card had
developed like a cataract upon the bleared panes. A
small garden sprinkled over with a scattered eruption

38 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

of sickly plants separated each of these houses from
the street, and was traversed by a narrow pathway,
yellowish in color, and consisting apparently of a mix-
ture of clay and gravel. The whole place was very
sloppy from the rain which had fallen through the
night. The garden was bounded by a three-foot brick
wall, with a fringe of wood rails upon the top, and
against this wall was leaning a stalwart police consta-
ble, surrounded by a small knot of loafers, who craned
their necks and strained their eyes in the vain hope of
catching some glimpse of the proceedings within.

I had imagined that Sherlock Holmes would at once
have hurried into the house and plunged into a study
of the mystery. Nothing appeared to be further from
his inteixtion. With an air of nonchalance which, un-
der the circumstances, seemed to me to border upon
affectation, he lounged up and down the pavement, and
gazed vacantly at the ground, the sky, the opposite
houses, and the line of .railings. Having finished his
scrutiny, he proceeded slowly down the path, or, rather,
down the fringe of grass which flanked the path, keep-
ing his eyes riveted upon the ground. Twice he
stopped, and once I saw him smile and heard him utter
an exclamation of satisfaction. There were many
marks of footsteps upon the wet, clayey soil, but since
the police had been coming and going over it I was
unable to see how my companion could hope to learn
anything from it. Still, I had had such extraordinary

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 39

evidence of the quickness of his perceptive faculties
that I had no doubt that he could sec a great deal which
was hidden from me.

At the door of the house we were met by a tall,
white-faced, flaxen-haired man, with a notebook in his
hand, who rushed forward and wrung my compan-
ion's hand with effusion.

''It is indeed kind of you to come," he said; "I have
had everything left untouched."

^'Except that!" my friend answered, pointing to the
pathway. ''If a herd of buffaloes had passed along
there could not be a greater mess. ^o doubt, how-
ever, you had drawn your own conclusions, Gregson,
before you permitted this."

"I have had so much to do inside the house," the de-
tective said, evasively. "My colleague, Mr. Lestrade,
is here. I had relied upon him to look after this."

Holmes glanced at me, and raised his eyebrows sar-
donically.

"With two such men as yourself and Lestrade upon
the ground, there will not be much for a thii'd party to
find out," he said.

Gregson rubbed his hands in a self-satisfied way.

"I think we have done all that can be done," he an-
swered; "it's a queer case, though, and I knew your
taste for such things."

"You did not come here in a cab?" asked Sherlock
Holmes.
^:^o, sir."

u-

40 J. STUDY IN SCARLET',

"NorLestrade?"

^^IsTo, sir.''

^TLen let us go and look at tlie room."

With this inconsequent remark he strode on into
the house, followed by Gregson, whose features ex-
pressed his astonishment.

A short passage, bare planked, and dusty, led to the
kitchen and offices. Two doors opened out of it to the
left and to the right. One of these had obviously been
closed for many weeks. The other belonged to the
dining-room, which was the apartment in which the
mysterious affair had occurred. Holmes walked in,
and I followed him with that subdued feeling at my
heart which the presence of death inspires.

It was a large, square room, looking all the larger
for the absence of all furniture. A vulgar, flaring
paper adorned the walls, but it was blotched in places
with mildew, and here and there great strips had be-
come detached and hung down, exposing the yellow
plaster beneath. Opposite the door was a showy fire-
place, surmv7 anted by a mantelpiece of imitation white
marble. On one corner of this was stuck the stump
of a red wax candle. The solitary window was so
dirty that the light was hazy and uncertain, giving a
dull-gray tinge to everything, which was intensified
by the thick layer of dust which coated the whole apart-
ment.

All these details I observed afterward. At present
my attention was centered upon the single grim, mo-

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 41

tionless figure which lay stretched upon the boards,
with vacant, sightless eyes staring up at the discolored
ceiling. It was that of a man about forty-three or
forty-four years of age, middle-sized, broad-shoul-
dered, with crisp, curling black hair, and a short,
stubbly beard. He was dressed in a heavy broadcloth
frock-coat and waistcoat, with light-colored trousers
and immaculate collar and cuffs. A top-hat, well
brushed and trim, was placed upon the floor beside
him. His hands were clinched and his arms thrown
abroad, while his lower limbs were interlocked, as
though his death-struggle had been a grievous one.
On his rigid face there stood an expression of horror,
and, as it seemed to me, of hatred, such as I have never
seen upon human features. This malignant and ter-
rible contortion, combined with the low forehead,
blunt nose, and prognathous jaw, gave the dead man a
singularly simious and ape-like apearance, which was
increased by his writhing, unnatural posture. I have
seen death in many forms, but neVer has it appeared
to me in a more fearsome aspect than in that dark,
grimy apartment, which looked out upon one of the
main arteries of suburban London. Lestrade, lean and
ferret-like as ever, was standing by the doorway, and
greeted my companion and myself.

^^This case will make a stir, sir,'' he remarked. "It
beats anything I have seen, and I am no chicken.''

^'There is no clew,'' said Gregson.

"i^one at all," chimed in Lestrade.

3— Vol. 1

42 A STUDT IN SCARLET.

Sherlock Holmes approached the body, and, kneel-
ing down, examined it intently.

^'You are sure that there is no wound?" he asked,
pointing to numerous gouts and splashes of blood
w^hich lay all around.

"Positive!" cried both detectives.

"Then, of course, this blood belongs to a second in-
dividual—presumably the murderer, if murder has
been committed. It reminds me of the circumstances
attendant on the death of Van Jansen, in Utrecht, in
the year '34. Do you reniember the case, Gregson?"

":^^o, sir."

"Read it up — you really should. There is nothing
new under the sun. It has all been done before."

As he spoke his nimble fingers were flying here,
there, and everywhere, feeling, pressing, unbuttoning,
examining, while his eyes wore the same far-away ex-
pression which I have already remarked upon. So
swiftly was the examination made that one would
hardly have guessed the minuteness with which it was
conducted. Finally he sniffed the dead man's lips,
and then glanced at the soles of his patent-leather
boots.

"He has not been moved at all?" he asked.

"I^o more than was necessary for the purpose of our
examination."

"You can take him to the mortuary now," he said.
"There is nothing more to be learned."

A VISIT FROM LESTRADK

— A Study in Scarlet

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 43

Gregson had a stretcher and four men at hand. At
his call they entered the room, and the stranger was
lifted and can-ied out. As they raised him a ring
tinkled down and rolled across the floor. Lestrade
grabbed it up and stared at it with mystified eyes.

"There's been a woman here," he cried. "It's a
woman's wedding nng."

He held it out as he spoke upon the palm of his hand.
We all gathered round him and gazed at it. There
could be no doubt that that circle of plain gold had
once adorned the finger of a bride.

"This complicates matters," said Gregson. "Hea-
ven knows, they were complicated enough before!"

"You're sure it doesn't simplify them?" observed
Holmes. "There's nothing to be learned by staring at
it. What did you find in his pockets?"

"We have it all here," said Gregson, pointing to a
litter of objects upon one of the bottom steps of the
stairs. "A gold watch, l^o. 9Y,163, by Barraud, of
London ; gold Albert chain, very heavy and solid ; gold
ring, with Masonic device; gold pin, bulldog's head,
•s\^th rubies as eyes: Russian-leather card-case, with
cards of Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleveland, correspond-
ing with the E. J. D. upon the linen; no purse, but
loose money to the extent of seven pounds thirteen;
pocket edition of Boccaccio's 'Decameron,' with name
of Joseph Stangerson upon the fly-leaf; two letters, one
addressed to E. J. Drebber and one to Joseph Stanger-
son.'^

44 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"At what address?"

"American Exchange, Strand; to be left till called
for. They are both from the Guion Steamship Com-
pany, and refer to the sailing of their boats from Liver-
pool. It is clear that this unfortunate man was about
to return to New York."

"Have you made any inquiries as to this man Stan-
gerson ?"

"I did it at once, sir," said Gregson. "I have had
advertisements sent to all the newspapers, and one of
my men has gone to the American. Exchange, but he
has not returned yet."

"Have you sent to Cleveland?"

"We telegraphed this morning."

"How did you word your inquiries ?"

"We simply detailed the circumstances, and said
that we should be glad of any information which could
help us."

"You did not ask for particulars on any point which
appeared to you to be crucial?"

"I asked about Stangerson."

"Nothing else? Is there no circumstance on which
this whole case appears to hinge? Will you not tele-
graph again?"

"I have said all I have to say," said Gregson, in an
offended voice.

Sherlock Holmes chuckled to himself, and appeared
to be about to make some remark, when Lestrade, who
had been in the front room while we were holding this

A STUDY IN SOARLET. 45

conversation in the hall, reappeared upon the scene,
rubbing his hands in a pompous and self-satisfied man-
ner.

"Mr. Gregson," he said, "I have just made a discov-
ery of the highest importance, and one which would
have been overlooked had I not made a careful exam-
ination of the walls."

The little 'man's eyes sparkled as he spoke, and he
was evidently in a state of suppressed exultation at
having scored a point against his colleague.

"Come here," he said, bustling back into the room,
the atmosphere of which felt cleaner since the removal
of its ghastly inmate. "E'ow, stand there!"

He struck a match on his boot and held it up against
the wall.

"Look at that!" he said, triumphantly.

I have remarked that the paper had fallen away in
parts. In this particular corner of the room a large
piece had peeled off, leaving a yellow square of coarse
plastering. Across this bare space there was scrawled
in blood-red letters a single word :

KACHE,

^^What do you think of that?" cried the detective,
with the air of a showman exhibiting his show. "This
was overlooked because it was in the darkest comer of
the room, and no one thought of looking there. The
murderer has written it with his or her own blood. See

4C A STUDY IN SCARLET,

this smear where it has trickled down the wall 1 That
disposes of the idea of suicide, anyhow. Why vYas
that corner chosen to write it on? I will tell you. Sec
that candle on the mantelpiece? It was lighted at the
time, and if it was lighted this corner would be the
brightest instead of the darkest portion of the wall."

"And what does it mean, now that you h(we found
it?" asked Gregson, in a depreciatory voice.

^'Mean? Why, it means that the writer was going
to put the female name Rachel, but was disturbed be-
fore he or she had time to finish. You mark my
words, when this case comes to be cleared up you will
find that a woman named Rachel has something to do
with it. It's all very well for you to laugh, Mr. Sher-
lock Holmes. You may be very smart and clever, but
the old hound is the best, when all is said and done."

*^I really beg your pardon," said my companion,
who had ruffled the little man's temper by bursting
into an explosion of laughter. "You certainly have
the credit of being the first of us to find this out, and,
as you say, it bears every mark of having been written
by the other participant in last night's mystery. I
have not had time to examine this room yet, but with
your permission I shall do so now."

As he spoke he whipped a tape-measure and a large,
round magnifying glass from his pocket. With these
two implements he trotted noiselessly about the room,
sometimes stopping, occasionally kneeling, and once
lying flat upon his face. So engrossed was he with his

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 47

occupation that he appeared to have forgotten our pres-
ence, for he chattered away to himself under his breath
the whole time, keeping up a running hre of exclama-
tions, groans, whistles, and little cries suggestive of
encouragement and of hope. As I watched him I was
irresistibly reminded of a pure-blooded, well-trained
foxhound as it dashes backward and forward through
the covert, whining in its eagerness, until it comes
across the lost scent. For twenty minutes or more he
continued his researches, measuring with the most
exact care the distance between marks which were en-
tirely invisible to me, and occasionally applying his
tape to the walls in an equally incomprehensible man-
ner. In one place he gathered very carefully a little
pile of gray dust from the floor, and packed it away in
an envelope. Finally he examined with his glass the
word upon the wall, going over every letter of it with
the most minute exactness. This done, he appeared
to be satisfied, for he replaced his tape and his glass in
his pocket.

"They say that genius is an infinite capacity for
taking pains,'' he remarked, with a smile. "It's a very
bad definition, but it does apply to detective work."

Gregson and Lestrade had watched the manoeuvres
of their amateur companion with considerable curi-
osity and some contempt. They evidently failed to
appreciate the fact, which I had begun to realize, that
Sherlock Holmes' smallest actions were all directed
toward some definite and practical end.

48 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"What do you think of it, sir?'' they both asked.

"It would be robbing you of the credit of the case
if I were to presume to help you/' remarked my friend.
"You are doing so well now that it would be a pity for
any one to interfere." There was a world of sarcasm
in his voice as he spoke. "If you will let me know
how your investigations go," he continued, "I shall be
happy to give you any help I can. In the meantime
I should like to speak to the constable who found the
body. Can you give me his name and address?"

Lestrade glanced at his notebook.

"John Kance," he said. "He's off duty now. You
will find him at 46 Audley Court, Kennington Park
Gate."

Holmes took a note of the address. "Come along,
doctor," he said; "we shall go and look him up. I'll
tell you one thing which may help you in the case,"
he continued, turning to the two detectives. "There
has been murder done, and the murderer was a man.
He was more than six feet high, was in the prime of
life, had small feet for his height, wore coarse, square-
toed boots, and smoked a Trichinopoly cigar. He
came here with his victim in a four-wheeled cab, which
was drawn by a horse with three old shoes, and one new
one on his off fore-leg. In all probability the mur-
derer had a florid face, and the finger nails of his right
hand were remarkably long. These are only a few in-
dications, but they may assist you."

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 41)

Lestrade and Gregson glanced at each either with
an incredulous smile.

"If this man was murdered, how was it done?" asked
the former.

"Poison," said Sherlock Holmes, curtly, and strode
off. "One other thing, Lestrade," he added, turning
round at the door: " ^Rache' is the German for ^re-
venge'; so don't lose your time looking for Miss
Rachel."

With which Parthian shot he walked awaj) leaving
the two rivals open-mouthed behind him.

50 A STUDY IN iSCABLET.

CHAPTER lY.

WHAT JOHN RANGE HAD TO TELL.

It was one o'clock when we left No. 3 Lauriston
Gardens. Sherlock Holmes led me to the nearest tele-
graph office, whence he dispatched a long telegram.
He then hailed a cab, and ordered the driver to take us
to the address given us by Lestrade.

^'There is nothing like first-hand evidence," he re-
marked; "as a matter of fact, my mind is entirely made
up upon the case, but still we may as well learn all that
is to be learned."

"You amaze me, Holmes," said I. "Surely you
are not as sure as you pretend to be of all those par-
ticulars which you gave."

"There's no room for a mistake,'* he answered.
"The very first thing which I observed on arriving
there was that a cab had made two ruts with its wheels
close to the curb, l^ow, up to last night, we have had
no rain for a week, so that those wheels, which left
such a deep impression, must have been there during
the night. There were the marks of a horse's hoofs,
too, the outline of one of which was far more clearly

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 51

cut than that of the other three, showing that that was
a new shoe. Since the cab was there after the rain
began, and was not there at any time during the morn-
ing— I have Gregson's word for it — it follows that it
must have been there during the night, and, there-
fore, that it brought those two individuals to. the
house/'

"That seems simple enough," said I; "but how
about the other man's height?''

"Why, the height of a man, in nine cases out of ten,
can be told from the length of his stride. It is a sim-
ple calculation enough, though there is no use my bor-
ing you with figures. I had this fellow's stride, both
on the clay outside and on the dust within. Then I
had a way of checking my calculation. When a man
writes on a wall, his instinct leads him to write about
the level of his own eyes. Now, that writing was just
over six feet from the ground. It was child's play."

"And his age?" I asked.

"Well, if a man can stride four and a half feet with-
out the smallest effort, he can't be quite in the sere and
yellow. That was the breadth of a puddle on the gar-
den walk which he had evidently walked across. Pat-
ent-leather boots had gone round and Square-toes had
hopped over. There is no mystery about it at all. T
am simply applying to ordinary life a few of those pre-
cepts of observation and deduction which I advocated
in that article. Is there anything else that puzzles
you?"

52 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"The finger nails and the Trichinopoly/' I sug-
gested.

"The writing on the wall was done with a man's
forefinger dipped in blood. My glass allowed me to
observe that the plaster was slightly scratched in doing
it, which would not have been the case if the man's
nail had been trimmed. I gathered up some scattered
ashes from the floor. It was dark in color and flaky —
such an ash as is only made by a Trichinopoly. I have
made a special study of cigar ashes — in fact, I have
written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter my-
self that I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any
known brand either of cigar or tobacco. It is in just
such details that the skilled detective differs from the
Gregson and Lestrade type."

"And the florid face?" I asked.

"Ah, that was a more daring shot, though I have
no doubt that I was right. You must not ask me that
at the present state of the affair."

I passed my hand over my brow.

"My head is in a whirl," I remarked; "the more one
thinks of it, the more mysterious it grows. How came
these two men — if there were two men — into an empty
house? What has become of the cabman who drove
them? How could one man compel another to take
poison? Where did the blood coftie from? What
was the object of the murderer, since robbery had no
part in it? How came the woman's ring there ? Above
all, why should the second man write up the German

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 58

word ^Rache' before decamping? I confess that I
cannot see any possible way of reconciling these facts."

My companion smiled approvingly.

"You sum up the difficulties of the situation suc-
cinctly and well," he said. "There is much that is
still obscure, though I have "quite made up my mind
on the main facts. As to poor Lestrade's discovery,
it was simply a blind intended to put the police upon
a wrong track, by suggesting socialism and secret so-
cieties. It was not done by a German. The A, if you
noticed, was printed somewhat after the German fash-
ion. Now, a real German invariably prints in the
Latin character, so that we may safely say that this was
not written by one, but by a clumsy imitator, who
overdid his part. It was simply a ruse, to divert in-
quiry into a wrong channel. I'm not going to tell
you much more of the case, doctor. You know a con-
juror gets no credit w^hen once he has explained his
trick, and if I show you too much of my method of
working, you will come to the conclusion that I am a
very ordinary individual after all."

"I shall never do that," I answered; "you have
brought detection as near an exact science as it ever
will be brought in this world."

My companion flushed up with pleasure at my words
and the earnest way in which I uttered them. I had
already observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on
the score of his art as any girl could be of her beauty.

"I'll tell you one other thing," he said. "Patent-

54 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

leathers and Square-toes came in the same cab, and
they walked down the pathway together as friendly
as possible — arm-in-arm, in all probability. When
they got inside they walked up and down the room —
or, rather, Patent-leathers stood still, while Square-toes
walked up and down, i could read all that in the
dust; and I could read that, as he walked, he grew more
and more excited. That is shown by the increased
length of his strides. He was talking all the while,
and working himself up, no doubt, into a fury. Then
the tragedy occurred. IVe told you all I know my-
self, now, for the rest is mere surmise and conjecture.
We have a good working basis, however, on which to
start. We must hurry up, for I want to go to Halle's
concert, to hear ISTorman N'eruda, this afternoon."

This conversation had occurred while our cab had
been threading its way through a long succession of
dingy streets and dreary by-ways. In the dingiest
and dreariest of them our driver suddenly came to a
stand.

"That's Aadley Court in there," he said, pointing
to a narrow slit in the line of a dead-colored brick.
"You'll find me here when you come back."

Audley Court was not an attractive locality. The
narrow passage led us into a quadrangle paved with
flags and lined by sordid dwellings. We picked our
way among groups of dirty children and through lines
of discolored linen until we came to No. 46, the door
of which was decorated with a small slip of brass, on

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 65

which the name Ranee was engraved. On inquiry
we found that the constable was in bed, and we were
shown into a little front parlor to await his coming.

He appeared presently, looking a little irritable at
being disturbed in his slumbers.

^^1 made my report at the office," he said.

Holmes took a half-sovereign from his pocket and
played with it pensively.

"We thought that we should like to hear it all from
your own lips,'' he said.

"I shall be most happy to tell you anything I can,"
the constable answered, with his eyes upon the little
golden disk.

"Just let me hear it all in your own way, as it oc-
curred.'^

Ranee sat down on the horse-hair sofa and knitted
his brows, as though determined not to omit anything
in his narrative.

"I'll tell it ye from the beginning," he said. "My
time is from ten at night to six in the morning. At
eleven there was a fight at the White Hart; but, bar
that, all was quiet enough on the beat. At one o'clock
it began to rain, and I met Harry Murcher — him who
has the Holland Grove beat — and we stood together
at the corner of Henrietta Street a-talkin'. Presently
— maybe about two, or a little after — T thought T
would take a look roimd, and see that all was right
down the Brixton Road. It was precious dirty and
lonely. TTot a soul did I meet all the way down,

66 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

though a cab or two went past me. I was a-strollin*
do^^^l, thinkin', between ourselves, how uncommon
handy a four of gin hot would be, when suddenly a
glint of light caught my eye in the window of that same
house. Now, I knew that them two houses in Lauris-
ton Gardens was empty on account of him that owns
them, who won't have the drains seed to, though the
very last tenant what lived in one of them died o' ty-
phoid fever. I was knocked all in a heap, therefore,
at seeing a light in the window, and I suspected as
something was wrong. When I got to the door"

"You stopped, and then walked back to the garden
gate," my companion interrupted. "What did you
do that for?"

Ranee gave a violent jump, and stared at Sherlock
Holmes, with the utmost amazement upon his features.

"Why, that's true, sir," he said; "though how you
come to know it, Heaven only knows! Ye see, when
I got up to the door, it was so still and so lonesome that
I thought I'd be none the worse for some one with me.
I ain't afeard of anything on this side o' the grave; but
I thought that maybe it was him that died o' the ty-
phoid, inspecting the drains what killed him. The
thought gave me a kind o' turn, and I walked back to
the gate to see if T could see Murcher's lantern, but
there wasn't no sign of him nor of any one else."

"There was no one in the street?"

"Not a livin' soul, sir, nor as much as a dog. Then
I pulled myself together and went back and pushed

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 57

the door open. All was quiet inside, so I went into the
room where the light was a-burnin'. There was a can-
dle fiickerin' on the mantelpiece — a red wax one — and
by its light I saw"

^'Yes, I know all that you saw.. You walked round
the room several times, and you knelt down by the
body, and then you walked through and tried the
kitchen door, and then''

John Ranee sprang to his feet with a frightened
face and suspicion in his eyes.

'* Where was you hid to see all that?" he cried. "It
seems to me that you knows a deal more than you
should."

Holmes laughed, and threw his card across the table
to the constable.

"Don't get arresting me for the murder," he said.
"I am one of the hounds, and not the wolf; Mr. Greg-
son or Mr. Lestrade mil answer for that. Go on,
though. What did you do next?"

Ranee resumed his seat, without, however, losing his
mystified expression.

"I went back to the gate and sounded my whistle.
That brought Murcher and two more to the spot."

"Was the street empty then ?"

"Well, it was, as far as anybody that could be of any
good goes."

"What do you mean?"

The constable's features broadened into a grin.

i8 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

<iTK

'Tve seen many a drunk chap in my time/' he said,
"but never any one so cryin' drunk as that cove. He
was at the gate when I came out, a-leanin' up agin the
railin's and a-singin' at the pitch of his hmgs about
Columbine's new-fangled banner, or some such stuff.
He couldn't stand, far less help."

"What sort of a man was he?" asked Sherlock
Holmes.

John Kance appeared to be somewhat irritated at
this digression.

"He was an uncommon drunk sort o' man," he said.
"He'd ha' found hisself in the station if we hadn't been
so took up."

"His face — his dress — didn't you notice them?"
Holmes broke in, impatiently.

"I should think I did notice them, seeing that I had
to prop him up — me and Murcher between us. He
was a long chap, with a red face, the- lower part
muffled round"

"That will do," cried Holmes. "What became of
him?"

"We'd enough to do without lookin' after him," the
policeman said, in an aggrieved voice. "I'll wager he
found his way home all right."

"How was he dressed?"

"A brown overcoat."

"Had he a whip in his hand?'*

"A whip? no."

A STUDY IN aCARLET. 59

"He must have left it behind/' muttered my com-
panion. "You didn't happen to see or hear a cab after
that?"

"JSTo."

"There's a half-sovereign for you," my companion
said, standing up and taking his hat. "I am afraid,
Ranee, that you will never rise in the force. That
head of yours should be for use as well as ornament.
You might have gained your sergeant's stripes last
night. The man whom you held in your hands is the
man who holds the clue of this mystery, and whom we
are seeking. There is no use of arguing about it now ;
I tell you that it is so. Come along, doctor."

We started off for the cab together, leaving our iu'
f ormant incredulous, but obviously uncomfortable.

"The blundering fool!" Holmes said, bitterly, as we
drove back to our lodgings. "Just to think of his hav-
ing such an incomparable bit of good luck, and not
taking advantage of it."

"I am rather in the dark still. It is true that the
description of this man tallies with your idea of the
second party in this mystery. But why should he
come back to the house after leaving it? This is not
the way of criminals.'*

"The ring, man, the ring; that was what he came
back for. If we have no other way of catching him,
we can always bait our line w^ith the ring. I shall
have him, doctor — I'll lay you two to one that I have
him. I must thank you for it all; I might not have

60 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

gone but for you, and so have missed the finest study
I ever came across — a study in scarlet, eh? Why
shouldn't we use a little art jargon? There's the scar-
let thread of murder running through the cblorless
skein of life, and our duty is to unravel it, and isolate
it, and expose every inch of it. And now for lunch,
and then for Nornian IN'eruda. Her attack and her
bowing are splendid. "What's that little thing of
Chopin's she plays so magnificently : Tra-la-la-lira-lira-
lay."

Leaning back in the cab, this amateur bloodhound
caroled away like a lark, while I meditated upon the
many-sidedness of the human mind.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 61

CHAPTER V.

*

OUR ADVERTISEMENT BRINGS A VISITOR.

Our morning's exertions had been too much for my
weak health, and I was tired out in the afternoon.
After Holmes' departure for the concert I lay down
upon the sofa and endeavored to get a couple of hours'
sleep. It was a useless attempt. My mind had been
too much excited by all that had occurred, and the
strangest fancies and surmises crowded into it. Every
time that I closed my eyes I saw before me the distort-
ed, baboon-like countenance of the murdered man. So
sinister was the impression which. that face produced
upon me that I found it difficult to feel anything but
gratitude for him who had removed its owner from the
world. If ever human features bespoke vice of the
most malignant type, they were certainly those of
Enoch iT. Drebber, of Cleveland. Still, I recognized
that justice must be done, and that the depravity of the
victim was no condonement in the eyes of the law.

The more 1 thought of it the more extraordinary did
my companion's hypothesis, that the man had been

62 A 8TDDY IN .SCARLET.

poisoned, appear. I remembered how he had sniffed
his lips, and had no doubt that he had detected some-
thing which had given rise to the idea. Then, again,
if not poison, what had caused the man's death, since
there was neither wound nor marks of strangulation?
But, on the other hand, whose blood was that which
lay so thickly upon the floor? There were no signs of
a struggle, nor had the victim any weapon with which
he might have wounded an antagonist. As long as all
these questions were unsolved I felt that sleep would
be no easy matter, either for Holmes or myself. His
quiet, self-confident manner convinced me that he had
already formed a theory which explained all the facts,
though what it was I could not for an instant conjec-
ture.

He was very late in returning — so late that I knew
that the concert could not have detained him all the
time. Dinner was on the table before he appeared.

"It was magnificent," he said, as he took his seat.
"Do you remember what Darwin says about music?
He claims that the power of producing and appreciat-
ing it existed among the human race long before the
power of speech was arrived at. Perhaps that is why
we are so subtly influenced by it. There are vague
memories in our souls of those misty centuries when
the world was in its childhood."

"That's rather a broad idea," I remarked.

"One's ideas must be as broad as Nature if they are
to interpret Nature," he answered. "What's the mat-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 63

ter? You're not looking quite yourself. This Brix-
ton Road affair has upset you/'

'To tell the truth, it has," I said. "I ought to be
more case-hardened after my Afghan experiences. I
saw my own comrades hacked to pieces at Maiwand
without losing my nerve."

'^I can understand. There is a mystery about this
which stimulates the imagination; where there is no
imagination there is no horror. Have you seen the
evening paper?"

"No."

"It gives a fairly good account of the affair. It
does not mention the fact that when the man was raised
up a woman's wedding ring fell upon the floor. It is
just as well it does not."

"Why?"

"Look at this advertisement," he answered. "T
had one sent to every paper this morning immediately
after the affair."

He threw the paper across to me, and I glanced at
the place indicated. It was the first announcement in
the "Found" column.

"In Brixton Road," it ran, "a plain gold wedding
ring, found in the roadway between the White Hart
Tavern and Holland Grove. Apply Dr. Watson,
2 2 IB Baker Street, between eight and nine this eve-
mng.

"Excuse my using your name," he said. "If I used

64: A STUDY IN SCARLET.

my own some one of these dunderheads would recog-
nize it, and want to meddle in the affair."

"That is all right," I answered. "But supposing
any one applies, I have no ring."

"Oh, yes, you have," said he, handing me one.
"This will do very well. It is almost a fac-simile."

"And who do you expect will answer this advertise-
ment?"

"Why, the man in the brown coat — our florid friend
with the square toes. If he does not come himself he
will send an accomplice."

"Would he not consider it as too dangerous?"

"N'ot at all. If my view of the case is correct, and
I have every reason to believe that it is, this man would
rather risk anything than lose the ring. According
to my notion he dropped it while stooping over Dreb-
ber's body, and did not miss it at the time. After leav-
ing the house he discovered his loss, and hurried back,
but found the police already in possession, owing to
his own folly in leaving the candle burning. He had
to pretend to be drunk in order to allay the suspicions
which might have been aroused by his appearance at
the gate. Now, put yourself in that man's place. On
thinking the matter over, it must have occurred to him
that it was possible that he had lost the ring in the road
after leaving the house. What would he do then?
He would eagerly look out for the evening paper, in
the hope of seeing it among the articles found. His

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 65

eye, of course, would light upon this. He would be
overjoyed. Why should he fear a trap ? There would
be no reason in his eyes why the finding of the ring
should be connected with the murder. He would
come. He will come. You shall see him within an
hour."

"And then n asked.

"Oh, you can leave me to deal with him then. Have
you any arms?"

"I have my old service revolver and a few car-
tridges."

"You had better clean it and load it. He will be a
desperate man, and, though I shall take him unawares,
it is as well to be ready for anything."

I went to my bedroom and followed his advice.
When I returned with the pistol the table had been
cleared, and Holmes was engaged in his favorite occu-
pation of scraping upon his violin.

"The plot thickens," he said, as I entered. "I have
just had an answer to my American telegram. My
view of the case is the correct one."

"And that is?" I asked, eagerly.

"My fiddle would be the better for new strings," he
remarked. "Put your pistol in your pocket. When
the fellow comes, speak to him in an ordinary way.
Leave the rest to me. Don^t frighten him by looking
at him too hard."

"It is eight o'clock now," I said, glancing at my
watch.

4-- Vol. 1

66 A. STUDY IN SCARLET.

"Yes. He will probably be here in a few minutes.
Open the door slightly. That will do. Now put the
key on the inside. Thank you! This is a queer old
book I picked up at a stall yesterday — 'De Jure inter
Gentes' — published in Latin at Liege in the Lowlands,
in 1642. Charles' head was still firm on his shoulders
when this little brown-backed volume was struck off."

"Who is the printer?'^

"Philippe de Croy, whoever he may have been. On
the fly-leaf, in very faded ink, is written, ^Ex libris
Guliolmi Whyte.' I wonder who William Whyte
was? Some pragmatical seventeenth century lawyer,
I suppose. His writing has a legal twist about it.
Here comes our man, I think. '^

As he spoke there was a sharp ring at the bell.
Sherlock Holmes rase softly and moved his chair in
the direction of the door. We heard the servant pass
along the hall, and the sharp click of the latch as she
opened it.

"Does Dr. Watson live here?" asked a clear, but
rather harsh voice. We could not hear the servant's
reply, but the door closed, and some one began to as-
cend the stairs. The footfall was an uncertain and
shuffling one. A look of surprise passed over the face
of my companion as he listened to it. It came slowly
along the passage, and there was a feeble tap at the
door.

"Come in!" I cried.

At my summons, instead of the man of violence

FINALLY HE EXAMLNED \M I H HIS GLASS THE WORD UPON THE WALL

— A Study in Scarlet

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 67

whom we expected, a very old and wrinkled woman
hobbled into the apartment. She appeared to be
dazzled by the sudden blaze of light, and, after drop-
ping a curtsey, she stood blinking at us with her
bleared eyes and fumbling in her pocket with nervous,
shaky fingers. I glanced at my companion, and his
face had assumed such a disconsolate expression that it
was all I could do to keep my countenance. The old
crone drew out an evening paper, and pointed at our
advertisement.

"It's this as has brought me, good gentlemen," she
said, dropping another curtsey; "a gold wedding ring
in the Brixton Road. It belongs to my girl Sally, as was
married only this time twelvemonth, which her hus-
band is a steward aboard a Union boat, and what he'd
say if he come 'ome and found her without her ring is
more than I can think, he being short enough at the
best o' times, but more especially when he has the
drink. If it please you, she went to the circus last
night along with''

"Is that her ring?" I asked.

"The Lord be thanked!" cried the old woman.
"Sally will be a glad woman this night. That's the
ring."

"And what may your address be?" I inquired, tak-
ing up a pencil.

"13 Duncan Street, Houndsditch. A weary way
from here."

eS A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"The Brixton Road does not lie between any circus
and Houndsditch,'' said Sherlock Holmes, sharply.

The old woman faced round and looked keenly at
him from her little red-rimmed eyes.

' 'Tlie gentleman asked me for my address, ' ' she said.
"Sally lives in lodgings at 3 Mayfield Place, Peck-
ham.'^

"And your name is''

"My name is Sawyer — hers is Dennis, which Tom
Dennis married her — and a smart, clean lad, too, as
long as he's at sea, and no steward in the company more
thought of; but when on shore, what with the women
and what with liquor-shops"

"Here is your ring, Mrs. Sawyer," I interrupted, in
obedience to a sign from my companion; "it clearly
belongs to your daughter, and I am glad to be able to
restore it to the rightful owner."

With many mumbled blessings and protestations of
gratitude the old crone packed it away in her pocket,
and shuffled off down the stairs. Sherlock Holmes
sprang to his feet the moment she was gone and rushed
into his room. He returned in a few seconds envel-
oped in an ulster and a cravat.

"I'll follow her," he said, hurriedly; "she must be
an accomplice, and will lead me to him. Wait up for
me."

The hall door had hardly slammed behind our vis-
itor before Holmes had descended the stair. Looking

A STUDY LV SCARLET. 69

through the window, I could see her walking feebly
along the other side, while her pursuer dogged her
some Httle distance behind.

"Either his whole theory is incorrect,'^ I thought
to myself, "or else he will be led now to the heart of
the mystery."

There was no need for him to ask me to wait up for
him, for I felt that sleep was impossible until I heard
the result of his adventure.

It was close upon nine m hen he set out. I had no
idea how long he might be, but I sat stolidly puffing
at my pipe and skipping over the pages of Henri Mur-
ger's "Vie de Boheme.'' Ten o'clock passed, and I
heard the footsteps of the maids as they pattered off to
bed. Eleven, and the more stately tread of the land-
lady passed by my door, bound for the same destina-
tion. It was close upon tw^elve before I heard the
sharp sound of his latch-key. The instant he entered
I saw by his face that he had not been successful.
Amusement and chagrin seemed to be struggling for
the mastery, until the former suddenly carried the day,
and he burst into a hearty laugh.

"I wouldn't have the Scotland Yarders know it for
the world,'' he cried, dropping into his chair; "I have
chaffed them so much that they would never have let
me hear the end of it. I can afford to laugh, because
I know that I w^ill be even with them in the long run."

"What is it, then?" I asked.

"Oh, I don't mind telling a story against myself.

70 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

That creature had gone a little way when she began
to limp and show every sign of being footsore. Pres-
ently she came to a halt, and hailed a four-wheeler
which was passing. I managed to be close to her so
as to hear the address, but I need not have been so anx'
ious, for she sung it out loud enough to be heard at
the other side of the street, ^Drive to 13 Duncan Street,
Houndsditch,' she cried. This begins to look genu-
ine, I thought, and, having seen her safely inside, I
perched myself behind. That's an art which every
detective should be an expert at. Well, away we rat-
tled, and never drew rein until we reached the street in
question. I hopped off before we came to the door,
and strolled down the street in an easy, lounging way.
I saw the cab pull up. The driver jumped down, and
I saw him open the door and stand expectantly.
Nothing came out, though. When I reached him he
was groping about frantically in the empty cab, and
giving vent to the finest assorted collection of oaths
that ever I listened t(x There was no sign or trace of
his passenger, and I fear it will be some time before he
gets his fare. On inquiring at No. 131 found that the
house belonged to a respectable paper-hanger named
Keswick, and that no one of the name either of Sawyer
or Dennis had ever been heard of there."

"You don't mean to say,'' I cried in amazement,
'^that that tottering, feeble old woman was able to get
out of the cab while it wa.= in motion, without either
you or the driver seeing her'^"

i

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 71

"Old woman be d d!'^ said Sherlock Ilolmeg,

sharply. "We were the old women, to be so taken in.
It must have been a young man, and an active one,
too, besides being an incomparable actor. The get-up
was inimitable. He saw that he was followed, no
doubt, and used this means of giving me the slip. It
shows that the man we are after is not as lonely as I
imagined he was, but has friends who are ready to risk
something for him. Now, doctor, you are looking
done up. Take my advice and turn in."

I was certainly feeling very weary, so I obeyed hi3
injunction. I left Holmes seated in front of the
smoldering fire, and long into the watches of the night
I heard the low, melancholy wailings of his violin, and
knew that he was still pondering over the strange prob-
lem which he had set himself to unraveL

^i A STUDY IN SCARLET,

CHAPTER yi.

TOBIAS GREGSON SHOWS WHAT HE CAN DO.

The papers next day were full of the "Brixton Mys-
tery," as they termed it. Each had a long account of
the affair, and some had leaders upon it in addition.
There was some information in them which was new
to me. I still retain in my scrap-book numerous clip-
pings and extracts bearing upon the case. Here is a
condensation of a few of them :

The "Daily Telegraph" remarked that in the his-
tory of crime there had seldom been a tragedy which
presented stranger features. The German name of
the victim, the absence of all other motive, and the
sinister inscription on the wall, all pointed to its perpe-
tration by political refugees and revolutionists. The
Socialists had many branches in America, and the de-
ceased had, no doubt, infringed their unwritten laws
and been tracked down by them. After alluding airily
to the Yehmgericht, aqua tofana. Carbonari, the
Marchioness de Bripvjlliers, the Darwinian theory, the
principles of Malthus, and the Ratcliff Highway mur-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 73

ders, the article concluded by admonishing the gov-
ernment and advocating a closer watch over foreigners
in England.

The ^'Standard'' commented upon the fact that law-
less outrages of the sort usually occurred under a Lib-
eral administration. They arose from the unsettling
of the minds of the masses, and the consequent weaken-
ing of all authority. The deceased was an American
gentleman who had been residing for some weeks in
the metropolis. He had stayed at the boarding-house
of Mme. Charpentier, in Torquay Terrace, Camber-
well. He was accompanied in his travels by his pri-
vate secretary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson. The two bid
adieu to their landlady upon Tuesday, the 4th inst.,
and departed to Euston Station with the avowed inten-
tion of catching the Liverpool express. They w^ere
afterward seen together on the platform. Nothing
more is known of them until Mr. Drebber's body was,
as recorded, discovered in an empty house in the Brix-
ton Road, many miles from Euston. How he camo
there, or how he met his fate, are questions which are
still involved in mystery. Nothing is known of the
whereabouts of Stangerson. We are glad to learn that
Mr. Lestrade and Mr. Gregson, of Scotland Yard, are
both engaged upon the case, and it is confidently antici-
pated that these well-known officers will speedily throw
light upon the matter.

The "Daily News" observed that there was no doubt
as to the crime being a political one. The despotism

74 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

and hatred of Liberalism whicli animated the Conti-
nental governments had had the effect of driving to
our shores a number of men who might have made ex-
cellent citizens were they not soured by the recollec-
tion of all that they had undergone. Among these
men there was a stringent code of honor, any infringe-
ment of which was punished by death. Every effort
should be made to find the secretary, Stangerson, and
to ascertain some particulars of the habits of the de-
ceased. A great step had been gained by the discov-
ery of the address of the house at which he had boarded
— a result which was entirely due to the acuteness and
energy of Mr. Gregson, of Scotland Yard.

Sherlock Holmes and I read these notices over to-
getlier at breakfast, and they appeared to afford him
considerable amusement.

"I told you that, whatever happened, Lestrade and
Gregson would be sure to score."

^^That depends on how it turns out.''

^^Oh, bless you, it doesn't matter in the least. If
the man is caught, it will be on account of their exer-
tions ; if he escapes, it will be m spite of their exer-
tions. It's heads I win and tails you lose. Whatever
they do, they will have followers. ' Un sot t/rouve
toujours un plus sot qui V admire.'' "

"What on earth is this?" I cried, for at this moment
there came the pattering of many steps in the hall and
on the stairs, accompanied by audible expressions of
disgust upon the part of our landlady.

4 STUDY IN SCARLET. 75

"It's the Baker Street division of the detective police
force," said my companion, gravely; and as he spoke
there rushed into the room half a dozen of the dirtiest
and most ragged street arabs that ever I clapped eyes
on.

" 'Tention!'' cried Holmes, in a sharp tone, and the
six dirty little scoundrels stood in a line like so many
disreputable statuettes. "In future you shall send up
Wiggins alone to report, and the rest of you must wait
in the street. Have you found it, Wiggins?"

"i^o, sir, we hain't," said one of the youths.

"I hardly expected you would. You must keep on
until you do. Here are your wages." He handed
each of them a shilimg. "ISTow, off you go, and come
back with a better report next time."

He waved his hand, and they scampered away down
•stairs like so many rats, and we heard their shrill voices
next moment in the street,

"There's more work to be got out of one of those lit-
tle beggars than out of a dozen of the force," Holmes
remarked. "The mere sight .of an official-looking
person seals men's lips. These youngsters, however,
go everywhere and hear everything. They are as
sharp as needles, too; all they want is organization."

"Is it on this Brixton case that you are employing
them ?" I asked.

"Yes ; there is a point which I wish to ascertain. It
is merely a matter of time. Halloo! we are going to

76 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

hear some news now with a vengeance ! Here is Greg-
son coining down the road, with beatitude wi'itten upon
every feature of his face. Bound for us, I know.
Yes, he is stopping. There he is!''

There was a violent peal at the bell, and in a few
seconds the fair-haired detective came up the stairs,
three steps at a time, and burst into our sitting-room.

^'My dear fellow,'' he cried, wringing Holmes' unre-
sponsive hand, ^^congratulate me! I have made the
whole thing as clear as day!"

A shade of anxiety seemed to me to cross my com-
panion's expressive face.

^^Do you mean that you are on the right track?" he
asked.

^'The right track! Why, sir, we have the man un-
der lock and key!"

''And his name is?"

"Arthur Charpentier, sub-lieutenant in Her Maj-
esty's navy," cried Gregson, pompously rubbing his
fat hands and inflating his chest.

Sherlock Holmes gave a sigh of relief and relaxed
into a smile.

''Take a seat and try one of these cigars," he said.
*'We are anxious to know how you managed it. Will
you have some whiskey and water?"

"I don't mind if I do," the detective answered.
"The tremendous exertions which I have gone through
during the last day or two have worn me out. Not so

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 77

much bodily exertion, you understand, as the strain
upon the niind. You will appreciate that, Mr. Sher-
lock Holmes, for we are both brain-workers."

^^You do me too much honor," said Holmes, gravely.
"Let us hear how you arrived at this most gratifying-
result."

The detective seated himself in the armchair and
pufFed complacently at his cigar. Then suddenly he
slapped his thigh in a paroxysm of amusement.

"The fun of it is," he cried, "that that fool Lestrade,
who thinks himself so smart, has gone off upon the
wrong track altogether. He is after the secretary,
Stangerson, who had no more to do with the crime than
the babe unborn. I have no doubt that he has caught
him by this time."

The idea tickled Gregson so much that he laughed
until he choked.

"And how did you get your clue?"

"Ah, I'll tell you all about it. Of course. Dr. Wat-
son, this is strictly between ourselves. The first diffi-
culty which we had to contend with was the finding of
this American's antecedents. Some people would
have waited until their advertisements were answered,
or until parties came forward and volunteered infor-
mation. That is not Tobias Gregson's way of going
to work. You remember the hat beside the dead
man?"

"Yes," said Holmes; "by John Underwood & Sons,
229 Camberwell Road."

78 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

Gregson looked quite crestfallen.

^'I had no idea that jou noticed that/^ he said.
'^Have JOU been there?"

"No."

"Ha!" cried Gregson, in a relieved voice; "you
should never neglect a chance, however small it may
seem."

"To a great mind nothing is little," remarked
Holmes, sententiously.

"Well, I went to Underwood, and asked him if he
had sold a hat of that size and description. He looked
over his books, and came on it at once. He had sent
the hat to a Mr. Drebber, residing at Charpentier's
boarding establishment, Torquay Terrace. Thus I
got at his address."

"Smart — very smart!" murmured Sherlock Holmes.

"I next called upon Madame Charpentier," contin-
ued the detective. "I found her very pale and dis-
tressed. Her daughter was in the room, too — an un-
commonly fine girl she is, too; she was looking red
about the eyes, and her lips trembled as I spoke to her.
That didn't escape my notice. I began to smell a rat.
You know the feeling, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, when
you come upon the right scent — a kind of thrill in your
nerves. ^Have you heard of the mysterious death of
your late boarder, Mr. Enoch J. Drebber, of Cleve-
land?' I asked.

"The mother nodded. She didn't seem able to get
out a word. The daughter burst into tears. I felt

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 79

more than ever that these people knew something of
the matter.

" ^At what o'clock did Mr. Drebber leave your house
for the train V I asked.

" ^At eight o'clock/ she said, gulping in her throat
to keep down her agitation. 'His secretary, Mr. Stan-
gerson, said that there were two trains — one at 9:15
and one at 11. He was to catch the first.'

" 'And was that the last you saw of him?'

"A terrible change came over the woman's face as I
asked the question. Her features turned perfectly
Kvid. It was some seconds before she could get out
the single word, 'Yes,' and when it did come it was in a
husky, unnatural tone.

''There was silence for a moment, and then the
daughter spoke in a calm, clear voice.

" 'No good can ever come of falsehood, mother,' she
said. "Let us be frank with this gentleman. We did
see Mr. Drebber again.'

" 'Grod forgive you!' cried Madame Charpentier,
thromng up her hands and sinking back in her chair.
*You have murdered your brother!'

" 'Arthur would rather that we spoke the truth,' the
girl answered, firmly.

'^ 'You had best tell me all about it now,' I said.
'Half confidences are worse than none. Besides, you
do not know how much we know of it.'

" 'On your head be it, Alice!' cried her mother; and
then, turning to me: 'I will tell you all, sir. Do not

80 A. aruDT in scarlet.

imagine that my agitation on behalf of my son arises
from any fear lest he should have had a hand in this
terrible affair. He is utterly innocent of it. My dread
is, however, that in your eyes and in the eyes of others
he may appear to be compromised. That, however, is
surely impossible. His high character, his profession,
his antecedents would all forbid it.'

" *Your best way is to make a clean breast of the
facts,' I answered. 'Depend upon it, if your son is in-
nocent he will be none the worse.'

" 'Perhaps, Alice, you had better leave us together,'
she said, and her daughter withdrew. 'Now, sir,' she
continued, 'I had no intention of telling you all this,
but since my poor daughter has disclosed it I have no
alternative. Having once decided to speak, I will tell
you all, without omitting any particular.'

" 'It is your wisest course,' said I.

" 'Mr. Drebber has been with us nearly three weeks.
He and his secretary, Mr. Stangerson, had been travel-
ing on the Continent. I noticed a Copenhagen label
upon each of their trunks, showing that that had been
their last stopping-place. Stangerson was a quiet, re-
served man, but his employer, I am sorry to say, was
far otherwise. He was coarse in his habits and brutish
in his ways. The very night of his arrival he became
very much the worse for drink, and, indeed, after
twelve o'clock in the day he could hardly ever be said
to be sober. His manners toward the maid-servante
were disgustingly free and familiar. Worst of all, ho

1 STUDY IN SCARLET. 81

speedily assumed the same attitude toward my daugh-
ter, Alice, and spoke to her more than once in a way
which, fortunately, she is too innocent to understand.
On one occasion he actually seized her in his anns
and embraced her — an outrage which caused liis own
secretary to reproach him for his unmanly conduct.'

" 'But why did you stand all this?' I asked. ^I sup-
pose that you can get rid of your boarders when you
wish.'

^^Mrs. Charpentier blushed at my pertinent ques-
tion.

" 'Would to God that I had given him notice on the
very day he came,' she said. ^But it was a sore temp-
tation. They were paying a pound a day each — four-
teen pounds a week, and this is a slack season. I am
a widow, and my boy in the navy has cost me much.
I grudged to lose the money. I acted for the best.
This last was too much, however, and I gave him notice
to leave on account of it. That was the reason of his
gping.'

"^Well?'

" ^My heart grew light when I saw him drive away.
My son is on leave just now, but I did not tell him any-
thing of this, for his temper is volent, and he is passion-
ately fond of his sister. When I closed the door be-
hind them a load seemed to be lifted from my mind.
Alas ! in less than an hour there was a ring at the bell,
and I learned that Mr. Drebber had returned. He
was much excited, and evidently the worse for drink.

82 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

lie forced his way into the room where I was sitting
with my daughter, and made some incoherent remark
about having missed his train. He then turned to
Alice, and, before my very face, proposed to her that
she should fly with him. "You are of age," he said,
''and there is no law to stop you. I have money
enough and to spare. Never mind the old girl here,
but come along with me now straight away. You
shall live like a princess." Poor Alice was so fright-
ened that she shrunk away from him, but he caught
her by the wrist and endeavored to draw her toward
the door. I screamed, and at that moment my son
Arthur came into the room. What happened then I
do not know. I heard oaths and the confused sounds
of a scuffle. I was too terrified to raise my head. When
I did look up I saw Arthur standing in the doorway
laughing, with a stick in his hand. "I don't think
that fine fellow will trouble us again," he said. "I
will just go after him and see what he does with him-
self." With those words he took his hat and started
off down the street. The next morning we heard of
Mr. Drebber's mysterious death.'

"This statement came from Mrs. Charpen tier's lips
with many gasps and pauses. At times she spoke so
low that I could hardly catch the words. I made
shorthand notes of all she said, however, so that there
should be no possibility of a mistake."

"It's quite exciting," said Sherlock Holmes, with a
yawn. "What happened next?"

1 STUDY IN SCARLET. 83

"When Mrs. Charpentier paused/' the detective
continued, '^I saw that the whole case hung upon one
point. Fixing her with my ey3 in a way which I al-
ways found effective with women, I asked her at what
hour her son returned.

" ^I do not know/ she answered.

"^Notknowr

" ^No; he has a latch-key, and let himself in.'

" 'After you went to bed?'

" 'Yes.'

" 'When did you go to bed?'

" 'About eleven.'

" 'So your son was gone at least two hours?'

" 'Yes.'

" 'Possibly four or five?'

" 'Yes.'

" 'What was he doing during that time?'

" 'I do not know,' she answered, turning white to
her very lips.

"Of course, after that there was nothing more to be
done. I found out where Lieutenant Charpentier
was, took two officers with me, and arrested him.
When I touched him on the shoulder and warned him
to come quietly with us, he answered us, as bold as
brass: 'I suppose you are arresting me for being con-
cerned in the death of that scoundrel Drebber,' he said.
We had said nothing to him about it, so that his allud-
ing to it had a most suspicious aspect.'*

"Yery," said Holmes.

84 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"He still carried the heavy stick which the mother
described him as having with him when he followed
Drebber. It was a stout oak cudgel."

"What is your theory, then?"

"AVell, my theory is that he followed Drebber as
far as the Brixton Road. When there, a fresh alter-
cation arose between them, in the course of which
Drebber received a blow from the stick, in the pit of
the stomach, perhaps, which killed him without leav-
ing any mark. The night was so wet that no one was
about, so Charpentier dragged the body of his victim
into the empty house. As to the candle, and the
blood, and the writing on the wall, and the ring, they
may all be so many tricks to throw the police on the
wrong scent."

"Well done!" said Holmes, in an encouraging voice.
"Really, Gregson, you are getting along. We shall
make something of you yet."

"I flatter myself that I have managed it rathei'
neatly," the detective answered, proudly. "The young
man volunteered a statement, in which he said that
after f ollovdng Drebber for some time, the latter per
ceived him, and took a cab in order to get away from
him. On his way he met an old shipmate, and took a
long walk with him. On being asked where his old
shipmate lived, he was unable to give any satisfactory
reply. I think the whole case fits together uncom-
monly well. What amuses me is to think of Lestrade^
who had started off upon the wrong scent. I am

A 8TUDY IN SCARLET. 86

afraid he won^t make much of it. Why, by Jove,
here's the very man himself!''

It was indeed Lestrade, who had ascended the stairs
while we were talking, and who now entered the room.
The assurance and jauntiness which generally marked
his demeanor and dress were, however, wanting. His
face was disturbed and troubled, while his clothes were
disarranged and untidy. He had evidently come with
the intention of consulting with Sherlock Holmes, for
on perceiving his colleague he appeared to be embar-
rassed and put out. He stood in the centre of the
room, fumbling nervously with his hat, and uncertain
what to do.

^'This is a most extraordinary case," he said, at last;
"a most incomprehensible affair."

"Ah, you find it so, Mr. Lestrade!" cried Gregson,
triumphantly. "I thought you would come to that
conclusion. Have you managed to find the secretary,
Mr. Joseph Stangerson?"

"The secretary, Mr. Joseph Stangerson," said Les-
trade, gravely, "was murdered at Halliday's Private
Hotel about six o'clock this morning."

86 A STVDJ I2i &CARLET.

CHAPTEE YII.

LIGHT IN THE DARKNESS.

The intelligence with which Lestrade greeted us was
so momentous and so unexpected that we were all three
fairly dumfounded. Gregson sprang out of his chair
and upset the remainder of his whiskey and water. I
started in silence at Sherlock Holmes, whose lips were
compressed and his brows drawn down over his eyes.

"Stangerson, too!" he muttered. "The plot thick-
ens!"

"It was quite thick enough before," grumbled Les-
trade, taking a chair. "I seem to have dropped into a
sort of council of war."

"Are you — are you sure of this piece of intelli-
gence?" stammered Gregson.

"I have just come from his room," said Lestrade.
"I was the first to discover what had occurred."

"We have been hearing Gregson's view of the mat-
ter," Holmes observed. "Would you mind letting us
know what you have seen and done?"

"I have no objection," Lestrade answered, seating

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 87

himself. "I freely confess that I was of the opinion
that Stangerson was concerned in the death of Dreb-
ber. This fresh development has shown me that I was
completely mistaken. Full of the one idea, I set my-
self to find out what had become of the secretary.
They had been seen together at Euston Station about
ha If -past eight on the evening of the third. At two
in the morning Drebber had been found in the Brixton
Road. The question which confronted me was to find
out how Stangerson had been employed between 8:30
and the time of the crime, and what had become of him
afterward. I telegraphed to Liverpool, giving a de-
scription of the man, and warning them to keep a watch
upon the American boats. I then set to work calling
upon all the hotels and lodging-houses in the vicinity
of Euston. You see, I argued that if Drebber and his
companion had become separated, the natural course
for the latter would be to put up somewhere in the vi-
cinity for the night, and then to hang about the sta-
tion again next morning."

"They would be likely to agree on some meeting-
place beforehand," remarked Holmes.

"So it proved. I spent the whole of yesterday
evening in making inquiries, entirely without avail.
This morning I began very early, and at eight o^clock
I reached Halliday^s Private Hotel, in Little George
Street. On my inquiry as to whether a Mr. Stansrer-
son was living there, they at once answered me in the
affirmative.

88 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

" ^"No doubt you are the gentleman lie was expect-
ingy' they said. ^He has been waiting for a gentleman
for two days.'

" ^ Where is he now?' I asked.

" 'He is up stairs in bed. He wished to be called at
nine.'

''It seemed to me that my sudden appearance might
shake his nerves and lead him to say something un-
guarded. The Boots volunteered to show me the
room ; it was on the second floor, and there was a small
corridor leading up to it. The Boots pointed out the
door to me, and was about to go down stairs again, when
I saw something that made me feel sickish, in spite of
my twenty years' experience. From under the door
there curled a little red ribbon of blood, which had
meandered across the passage and formed a little pool
along the skirting at the other side. I gave a cry,
which brought the Boots back. He nearly fainted
when he saw it. The door was locked on the inside,
but we put our shoulders to it and knocked it in. The
window of the room was open, and beside the window,
all hudled up, lay the body of a man in his night-dress.
He was quite dead, and had been for some time, for his
limbs were rigid and cold. When we turned him over
the Boots recognized his at once as being the same gen-
tleman who had engaged the room under the name of
Joseph Stangerson. The cause of death was a deep
stab in the left side, which must have penetrated the

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 89

heart. And now comes the strangest part of the affair.
What do you suppose was above the murdered man?^'

I felt a creeping of flesh, and a presentiment of com-
ing horror, even before Sherlock Holmes answered :

"The word 'Rache,' written in letters of blood," he
said.

"That was it," said Lestrade, in an awe-struck voice;
and we were all silent for a while.

There was something so methodical and so incom-
prehensible about the deeds of this unknown assassin,
that it imparted a fresh ghastliness to his crimes. My
nerves, which were steady enough on the field of bat-
tle, tingled as I thought of it.

"The man was seen," continued Lestrade. "A milk-
boy, passing on his way to the dairy, happened to walk
down the lane which leads from the mews at the back
of the hotel. He noticed that a ladder, which usually
lay there, was raised against one of the windows of tho
second floor, which was wide open. After passing, he
looked back and saw a man descend the ladder. He
came down so quietly and openly that the boy imag-
ined him to be some carpenter or joiner at work in the
hotel. He took no particular notice of him, beyond
thinking in his own mind that it was early for him to
be at work. He has an impression that the man was
tall, had a reddish face, and was dressed in a long,
brownish coat. He must have stayed in the room
some little time after the murder, for we found blood-

5— Vol. 1

90 A 8TUD7 IN SCARLET,

stained water in the basin, where he had washed his
hands, and marks on the sheets where he had delib-
erately wiped his knife/'

I glanced at Holmes on hearing the description of
the murderer, which tallied so exactly with his own.
There was, however, no trace of exultation or satis-
faction upon his face.

^^Did you find nothing in the room which could fur-
nish a clue to the murderer?'' he asked.

"j^othing. Stangerson had Drebber's purse in his
pocket, but it seems that this was usual, as he did all
the pa3dng. There was eighty-odd pounds in it, but
nothing had been taken. Whatever the motives of
these extraordinary crimes, robbery is certainly not
one of them. There were no papers or memoranda in
the murdered man's pockets, except a single telegram,
dated from Cleveland about a month ago, and con-
taining the words, ^J. H. is in Europe.' There was no
name appended to this message."

^^And was there nothing else?" Holmes asked.

"E^otliing of any importance. The man's novel,
with which he had read himself to sleep, was lying
upon the bed, and his pipe was on a chair beside him.
There was a glass of water on the table, and on the
window-sill a small chip ointment box containing a
couple of pills."

Sherlock Holmes sprang from his chair with an ex-
clamation of delight.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 91

*^The last link!'^ he cried, exultantly. "Mj case is
complete."

The two detectives stared at him in amazement.

"I have now in my hands/' my companion said,
confidently, "all the threads which have formed such a
tangle. There are, of course, details to be filled in,
but I am as certain of all the main facts, from the time
that Drebber parted from Stangerson at the station
up to the discovery of the body of the latter, as if I
had seen them with my own eyes. I will give you a
proof of my knowledge. Could you lay your hand
upon those pills?"

"I have them," said Lestrade, producing a small
white box; "I took them and the purse and the tele-
gram, intending to have them put in a place of safety
at the police station. It was the merest chance my
taking these pills, for I am bound to say that I do not
attach any importance to them."

"Give them here," said Holmes. "ITow, doctor,"
turning to me, "are those ordinary pills?"

They certainly were not. They were of a pearly
gray color, small, round, and almost transparent
against the light.

"From their lightness and transparency I should
imagine that they are soluble in water," I remarked.

"Precisely so," answered Holmes. "]^ow, would
you mind going down and fetching that poor little
devil of a terrier which has been bad so long, and

92 J. STUDY IN SCARLET,

which the landlady wanted you to put out of its pain
yesterday?"

I went down stairs and carried the dog up stairs in
my arms. Its labored breathing and glazing eye
showed that it was not far from its end. Indeed, its
snow-white muzzle proclaimed that it had already ex-
ceeded the usual term of canine existence. I placed
it upon a cushion on the rug.

^'I will now cut one of these pills in two," said
Holmes; and, drawing his penknife, he suited the ac-
tion to the word. "One half we return into the box
for future purposes. The other half I will place in
this wine-glass, in which is a teaspoonful of water.
You perceive that our friend, the doctor, is right, and
that it readily dissolves."

"This may be very interesting," said Lestrade, in
the injured tone of one who suspects that he is being
laughed at. "I cannot see, however, what it has to do
with the death of Mr. Joseph Stangerson."

"Patience, my friend, patience! You will find in
time that it has everything to do with it. I shall now
add a little milk to make the mixture palatable, and
on presenting it to the dog we find that he laps it up
readily enough."

As he spoke he turned the contents of the wine-glass
into a saucer and placed it in front of the terrier, who
speedily licked it dry. Sherlock Holmes' earnest de*
meanor had so far convinced us that we all sat in si-
lence, watching the animal intently, and expecting

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 93

some startling effect. None appeared, however. The
dog continued to lie upon the cushion, breathing in a
labored way, but apparently neither the better nor
worse for its draught.

Holmes had taken out his watch, and as minute fol-
lowed minute without result, an expression of the ut-
most chagrin and disappointment appeared upon his
features. He gnawed his lip, drummed his fingers
upon the table, and showed every other symptom of
acute impatience. So great was his emotion that I
felt sincerely sorry for him, while the two detectives
smiled derisively, by no means displeased at this check
which he had met.

"It can't be a coincidence," he cried at last, spring-
ing from his chair and pacing wildly up and down
the room; "it is impossible that it should be a mere
coincidence. The very pills which I suspected in the
case of Drebber are actually found after the death of
Stangerson. And yet they are inert. What can it
mean? Surely my whole chain of reasoning cannot
have been false! It is impossible! And yet this
wretched dog is none the worse. Ah, I have it ! I have
it!'^ With a perfect shriek of delight he rushed to the
box, cut the other pill in two, dissolved it, added milk,
and presented it to the terrier. The unfortunate crea-
ture's tongue seemed hardly to have been moistened in
it before it gave a convulsive shiver in every limb, and
lay as rigid and lifeless as if it had been struck by light-
ning.

94 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Sherlock Holmes drew a long breath, and wiped the
perspiration from his forehead.

"I should have more faith," he said; "I ought to
know bj this time that when a fact appears to be op-
posed to a long train of deductions it invariably proves
to be capable of bearing some other interpretation. Of
the two pills in that box one was the most deadly poi-
son and the other was entirely harmless. I ought to
have known that before I ever saw the box at all."

This last statement appeared to me to be so startling
that I could hardly believe that he was in his sober
senses. There was the dead dog, however, to prove
that his conjecture had been correct. It seemed to
me that the mists in my own mind were gradually
clearing away, and I began to have a dim, vague per-
ception of the truth.

"All this seems strange to you," continued Holmes,
"because you failed at the beginning of the inquiry to
grasp the importance of the single real clue which was
presented to you. I had the good fortune to seize
upon that, and everything which has occurred since
then has served to confirm my original supposition,
and, indeed, was the logical sequence of it. Hence,
things which have perplexed you and made the case
more obscure have served to enlighten me and to
strengthen my conclusions. It is a mistake to con-
found strangeness with mystery. The most common-
place crime is often the most mysterious, because it

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 95

presents no new or special features from which deduc-
tions may be drawn. This murder would have been
infinitely more difficult to unravel had the body of the
victim been simply found lying in the roadway with-
out any of those outre and sensational accornpanimenta
which have rendered it remarkable. These strange
details, far from making the case more difficult, have
really had the effect of making it less so.''

Mr. Gregson, who had listened to this address
with considerable impatience, could contain himself no
longer.

^Took here, Mr. Sherlock Holmes,'' he said, "we
are all ready to acknowledge that you are a smart man,
and that you have your own methods of working. We
want something more t^an mere theory and preaching
now, though. It is a case of taking the man. I have
made my case out, and it seems I was wrong. Young
Charpentier could not have been engaged in this sec-
ond affair. Lestrade went after this man, Stangerson,
and it appears that he was wrong, too. You have
thrown out hints here and there, and seem to know
more than we do, but the time has come when we feel
that we have a right to ask you straight how much you
do know of the business. Can you name the man who
did it?"

"I cannot help feeling that Gregson is right, sir," re-
marked Lestrade. "We have both tried, and we have
both failed. You have remarked more than once

96 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

since I have been in the room that you have all the
evidence which you require. Surely you will not
withhold it any longer.''

"Any delay in arresting the assassin/' I observed,
"might give him time to perpetrate some fresh
atrocity."

Thus pressed by us all Holmes showed signs of irres-
olution. He continued to walk up and down the room
with his head sunk on his chest and his brows drawn
down, as was his habit when lost in thought.

"There will be no more murders," he said, at last,
stopping abruptly and facing us. "You can put that
consideration out of the question. You have asked
me if I know the name of the assassin. I do. The
mere knowing of his name is a small thing, however,
compared with the power of laying our hands upon
him. This I expect very shortly to do. I have good
hopes of managing it through my own arrangements;
but it is a thing which needs delicate handling, for we
have a shrewd and desperate man to deal with, who is
supported, as I have had occasion to prove, by another
who is as clever as himself. As long as this man has
no idea that any one can have a clue, there is some
chance of securing him ; but if he had the slightest sus-
picion he would change his name, and vanish in an in-
stant among the four million inhabitants of this great
city. Without meaning to hurt either of your feel-
ings, I am bound to say that I consider these men to
be more than a match for the official force, and that is

A. STUDY IN SCARLET. 97

why I have not asked your assistance. If I fail I shall
of course incur all the blame due to this omission ; but
that I am prepared for. At present I am ready to
promise that the instant that I can communicate with
you without endangering my own combinations I shall
do so."

Gregson and Lestrade seemed to be far from satis-
fied by this assurance, or by the depreciating allusion
to the detective police. The former had flushed up to
the roots of his flaxen hair, while the other's beady
eyes glistened with curiosity and resentment. ^N^either
of them had time to speak, however, before there was
a tap at the door and the spokesman of the street arabs,
young Wiggins, introduced his insignificant and un-
savory person.

"Please, sir," he said, touching his forehead, "I
have the cab down stairs."

"Good boy," said Hohnes, blandly. "Why don't
you introduce this pattern at Scotland Yard?" he con-
tinued, taking a pair of steel handcuffs from a drawer.
"See how beautifully the spring works. They fasten
in an instant."

"The old pattern is good enough," remarked Les-
trade, "if we can find the man to put them on."

"Very good, very good," said Holmes, smiling.
"The cabman may as well help me with my boxes.
Just ask him to step up, Wiggins."

I was surprised to find my companion speaking as
though he were about to set out on a journey, since he

98 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

had not said anything to me about it. There was a
small portmanteau in the room, and this he pulled out
and began to strap. He was busily engaged at it when
the cabman entered the room.

"Just give me a help with this buckle, cabman,"
he said, kneeling over his task, and never turning his
head.

The fellow came forward with a somewhat sullen,
defiant air, and put down his hands to assist. At that
instant there was a sharp click, the jangKng of metal,
and Sherlock Holmes sprang to his feet again.

"Gentlemen," he cried, with flashing eyes, "let me
introduce you to Mr. Jefferson Hope, the murderer of
Enoch Drebber and of Joseph Stangerson."

The whole thing occurred in a moment — so quickly
that I had no time to realize it. I have a vivid recol-
lection of that instant, of Holmes' triumphant expres-
sion and the ring of his voice, of the cabman's dazed,
savage face, as he glared at the glittering handcuffs,
which had appeared as if by magic upon his wrists. For
a second or two we might have been a group of statues.
Then, with an inarticulate roar of fury, the prisoner
wrenched himself free from Holmes' grasp, and
hurled himself through the window. Woodwork and
glass gave way before him, but before he got quite
through Gregson, Lestrade and Holmes sprang upon
him like so many stag-hounds. He was dragged back
into the room, and then commenced a terrific conflict.
So poweful and so fierce was he that the four of U9

A. STUDJ IN SCARLET. 99

were shaken off again and again. He appeared to
have the convulsive strength of a man in an epileptic
fit. His face and hands were terribly mangled by the
passage through the glass, but loss of blood had no
effect in diminishing his resistance. It was not until
Lestrade succeeded in getting his hand inside his neck-
cloth and hall strangling him that we made him realize
that his struggles were of no avail; and even then we
felt no security until we had pinioned his feet as well
as his hands. That done we rose to our feet, breath-
less and panting.

"We have his cab/^ said Sherlock Holmes. "It
will serve to take him to Scotland Yard. And now,
gentlemen," he continued, with a pleasant smile, "wo
have reached the end of our little mystery. You are
very welcome to put any questions that you like to me
now, and there is no danger that I will refuse to answer
them."

100 A. STUDY IN SCARLET.

PART II.

THE COUNTRY OF THE SAINTS.

CHAPTER I.

ON THE GREAT ALKALI PLAIN.

In the central portion of the great North American
Continent there lies an arid and repulsive desert, which
for many a long year served as a barrier against the
advance of civilization. From the Sierra ^N^evada to
l^ebraska, and from the Yellowstone River in the
north to the Colorado upon the south, is a region of
desolation and silence. Nor is Nature always in one
mood throughout this grim district. It comprises
snow-capped and lofty mountains, and dark and
gloomy valleys. There are swift-flowing rivers which
dash through jagged canyons; and there are enormous
plains, which in winter are white with snow, and in
summer are gray with the saline alkali dust. They all
preserve, however, the common characteristics of bar-
renness, inhospitality, and misery.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 101

There are no inhabitants of this land of despair. A
band of Pawnees or of Blackfeet may occasionally
traverse it in order to reach other hunting-grounds, but
the hardiest of the braves are glad to lose sight of those
awesome plains, and to find themselves once more
upon their prairies. The coyote skulks among the
scrub, the buzzard flaps heavily through the air,
and the clumsy grizzly bear lumbers through the dark
ravines, and picks up such sustenance as it can among
the rocks. These are the sole dwellers in the wilder-
ness.

In the whole world there can be no more dreary
view than that from the northern slope of the Sierra
Blanco. As far as the eye can reach stretches the
great flat plain-land, all dusted over with patches of
alkali, and intersected by clumps of the dwarfish chap-
paral bushes. On the extreme verge of the horizon lie
a long chain of mountain-peaks, with their rugged
summits flecked with snow. In this great stretch of
country there is no sign of life, nor of anything apper-
taining to life. There is no bird in the steel-blue hea-
ven, no movement upon the dull, gray earth — above
all, there is absolute silence. Listen as one may, there
is no shadow of a sound in all that mighty wilderness;
nothing but silence — complete and heart-subduing si-
lence.

It has been said there is nothing appertaining to life
upon the broad plain. That is hardly true. Looking

103 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

down from the Sierra Blanco, one sees a pathway
traced out across the desert, which winds away and is
lost in the extreme distance. It is rutted with wheels
and trodden down by the feet of many adventurers.
Here and there are scattered white objects which glis-
ten in the sun, and stand out against the dull deposit
of alkali. Approach, and examine them! They are
bones; some large and coarse, others smaller and more
delicate. The former have belonged to oxen, and the
latter to men. For fifteen hundred miles one may
trace this ghastly caravan route by these scattered re-
mains of those who had fallen by the wayside.

Looking down on this very scene there stood upon
the 4th of May, 1847, a solitary traveler. His ap-
pearance was such that he might have been the very
genius or demon of the region. An observer would
have found it difficult to say whether he was nearer to
forty or to sixty. His face was lean and haggard, and
the brown, parchment-like skin was drawn tightly over
the projecting bones; his long, brown hair and beard
were all flecked and dashed with white; his eyes were
sunken in his head and burned with an unnatural lus-
tre, while the hand which grasped his rifle was hardly
more fleshy than that of a skeleton. As he stood, he
leaned upon his weapon for support, and yet his tall
figure and the massive framework of his bones sug-
gested a wiry and vigorous constitution. His gaunt
face, however, and his clothes, which hung so baggily

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 103

over his shrivelled limbs, proclaimed what it was that
gave him that senile and decrepit appearance. The
man was dying — dying from hunger and thirst.

He had toiled painfully down the ravine, and on to
this little elevation, in the vain hope of seeing some
signs of water. ITow the great salt plain stretched be-
fore his eyes, and the distant belt of savage mountains,
without a sign anywhere of plant or tree, which might
indicate the presence of moisture. In all that broad
landscape there was no gleam of hope. !N'orth, and
east, and west he looked with wild, questioning eyes,
and then he realized that his wanderings had come to
an end, and that there, on that barren crag, he was
about to die.

"Why not here, as well as in a feather bed, twenty
years hence," he muttered, as he seated himself in the
shelter of a bowlder.

Before sitting down he had deposited upon the
ground his useless rifle, and also a large bundle tied up
in a gray shawl, which he had carried slung over his
right shoulder. It appeared to be somewhat too heavy
for his strength, for, in lowering it, it came down on
the ground with some little violence. Instantly there
broke from the gray parcel a little moaning cry, and
from it there protruded a small, scared face, with very
bright brown eyes, and two little speckled dimpled
fists.

"You've hurt me," said a childish voice, reproach-
fully.

104: A STUDY IN SCARLET,

"Have I, though?" the man answered, penitently;
"I didn't go for to do it."

As he spoke he unwrapped the gray shawl and ex-
tricated a pretty little girl of about five years of age,
whose dainty shoes and smart pink frock, with its little
linen apron, all bespoke a mother's care. The child
was pale and wan, but her healthy arms and legs
showed that she had suffered less than her companion.

"How is it now?" he answered, anxiously, for she
was still rubbing the towsy golden curls which covered
the back of her head.

"Kiss it and make it well," she said, with perfect
gravity, showing the injured part up to him. "That's
what mother used to do. Where's mother?"

"Mother's gone. I guess you'll see her before
long."

"Gone, eh !" said the little girl. "Funny she didn't
say good-by; she 'most always did if she was just goin'
over to auntie's for tea, and now she's been away for
three days. Say, it's awful dry, ain't it? Ain't there
no water nor nothing to eat?"

"No, there ain't nothing, dearie. You'll just need
to be patient awhile, and then you'll be all right. Put
your head up agin me, like that, and then you'll feel
better. It ain't easy to talk when your lips is like
leather, but I guess I'd best let you know how the cards
lie. What's that you've got?"

"Pretty things! fine things!" cried the little girl,
enthusiastically, holding up two glittering fragments

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 105

of mica. "When we goes back to home I'll give them
to brother Bob."

"You'll see prettier things than them soon," said the
man, confidently. "You just wait a bit. I was going
to tell you, though — you remember when we left the
river?"

"Oh, yes."

"Well, we reckoned we'd strike another river soon,
d'ye see. But there was somethin' wrong; compasses,
or map, or somethin', and it didn't turn up. Water
ran out. Just except a little drop for the likes of you
and — and"

"And you couldn't wash yourself," interrupted his
companion, gravely, staring up at his grimy visage.

"No, nor drink. And Mr. Bender, he was the first
to go, and then Indian Pete, and then Mrs. McGregor,
and then Johnny Hones, and then, dearie, your
mother."

"Then mother's a deader, too," cried the little girl,
dropping her face in her pinafore and sobbing bitterly,

"Yes; they all went except you and me. Then I
thought there was some chance of water in this direc-
tion, so I heaved you over my shoulder and we tramped
it together. It don't seem as though we've improved
matters. There's an almighty small chance for us
now!"

"Do you mean that we are going to die, too?" asked
the child, checking her sobs, and raising her tear-
stained face.

106 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"I guess that's about the size of it."

"Why didn't you say so before?" she said, laughing
gleefully. "You gave me such a fright. Why, of
course, now as long as we die we'll be with mother
again."

"Yes, you will, dearie."

"And you, too — I'll tell her how awful good you've
been. I'll bet she meets us at the door of heaven with
a big pitcher of water, and a lot of buckwheat cakes,
hot, and toasted on both sides, like Bob and me was
fond of. How long will it be first?"

"I don't know — not very long."

The man's eyes were fixed upon the northern hor-
izon. In the blue vault of heaven there appeared
three little specks which increased in size every mo-
ment, so rapidly did they approach. They speedily
resolved themselves into three large brown birds,
which circled over the heads of the two wanderers,
and then settled upon some rocks which overlooked
them. They were buzzards, the vultures of the West,
whose coming is the forerunner of death.

"Cocks and hens," cried the little girl, gleefully,
pointing at their ill-omened forms, and clapping her
hands to make them rise. "Say, did God make this
country?"

"In course He did," said her companion, rather
startled by this unexpected question.

"He made the country down in Illinois, and Hq
made the Missouri," the little girl continued. "I

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 107

guess somebody else made the country in these parts.
It's not nearly so well done. They forgot the water
and the trees."

"What would ye think of offering up prayer?" the
man asked, diffidently.

"It ain't night yet," she answered.

"It don't matter. It ain't quite regular, but He
won't mind that, you bet. You say over them ones
that you used to say every night in the wagon when we
was on the plains."

"Why don't you say some yourself?" the child
asked, with wondering eyes.

"I disremember them," he answered. "I hain't
said none since I was half the height o' that gun. I
guess it's never too late. You say them out, and I'll
stand by and come in on the choruses."

"Then you'll need to kneel down, and me, too," she
said, laying the shawl out for that purpose. "You've
got to put your hands up like this. It makes you feel
kind of good."

It was a strange sight, had there been anything but
the buzzards to see it. Side by side on the narrow
shawl knelt the two wanderers, the little, prattling
child and the reckless, hardened adventurer. Her
chubby face and his haggard, angular visage were
both turned up to the cloudless heaven in heartfelt en-
treaty to that dread Being with whom they were face
to face, while the two voices — the one thin and clear,
the other deep and harsh — united in the entreaty for

108 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

mercy and forgiveness. The prayer finished, they re-
sumed their seat in the shadow of the bowlder until
the child fell asleep, nestling on the broad breast of
her protector. He watched over her slumber for
some time, but !N'ature proved too strong for him. For
three days and three nights he had allowed himself
neither rest nor repose. Slowly the eyelids drooped
over the tired eyes, and the head sank lower and lower
upon the breast, until the man's grizzled beard was
mixed with the golden tresses of his companion, and
both slept the same deep and dreamless slumber.

Had the wanderer remained awake for another half-
hour a strange sight would have met his eyes. Far
away on the extreme verge of the alkali plain there
rose up a little spray of dust, very slight at first, and
hardly to be distinguished from the mists of the dis-
tance, but gradually growing higher and broader, un-
til it formed a solid, well-defined cloud. This cloud
continued to increase in size until it became evident
that it could only be raised by a great multitude of
moving creatures. In more fertile spots the observer
would have come to the conclusion that one of those
great herds of bisons which graze upon the prairie-land
was approaching him. This was obviously impossible
in these arid wilds. As the whirl of dust drew nearer
to the solitary blufF upon which the two castaways were
reposing, the canvas-covered tilts of wagons and the
figures of armed horsemen began to show up through
the haze; and the apparition repealed itself as being

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 109

a great caravan upon its journey for the West. But
what a caravan! When the head of it had reached
the base of the mountains, the rear was not yet visible
on the horizon. Right across the enormous plain
stretched the straggling array, wagons and carts, men
on horseback, and men on foot. Innumerable women
who staggered along under burdens, and children who
toddled beside the wagons or peeped out from under
the white coverings. This was evidently no ordinary
party of immigrants, but rather some nomad people
who had been compelled from stress of circumstances
to seek themselves a new country. There rose through
the clear air a confused clattering and rumbling from
this great mass of humanity, with the creaking of
wheels and the neighing of horses. Loud as it was, it
was not sufficient to rouse the two tired wayfarers
above them.

At the head of the column there rose a score or more
of grave, iron-faced men, clad in sober homespun gar-
ments and armed with rifles. On reaching the base
of the bluff they halted and held a short council among
themselves.

"The w^ells are to the right, my brothers,'' said one,
a hard-lipped, clean-shaven man with grizzly hair.

"To the right of the Sierra Blanco — so we shall
reach the Rio Grande,'' said another.

"Fear not for water," cried a third. He who could
draw it from the rocks will not now abandon His own
chosen people."

110 A. 8TUDT IN SCARLET.

"Amen! amen!" responded the whole party.

They were about to resume their journey when one
of the youngest and keenest-eyed uttered an exclama-
tion and pointed up at the rugged crag above them.
From its summit there fluttered a little wisp of pink,
showing up hard and bright against the gray rocks be-
hind. At the sight there was a general reining up of
horses and unslinging of guns, while fresh horsemen
came galloping up to reinforce the vanguard. The
word "redskins'' was on every lip.

"There can't be any number of Injuns here," said
the elderly man who appeared to be in command.
""We have passed the Pawnees, and there are no other
tribes until we cross the great mountains."

"Shall I go forward and see. Brother Stangerson?"
asked one of the band.

"And I," "And I," cried a dozen voices.

"Leave your horses below and we will wait you
here," the elder answered. In a moment the young
fellows had dismounted, fastened their horses, and
were ascending the precipitous slope which led up to
the object which had excited their curiosity. They
advanced rapidly and noiselessly, with the confidence
and dexterity of practiced scouts. The watchers from
the plain below could see them flit from rock to rock
until their figures stood out against the sky-line. The
young man who had first given the alarm was leading
them. Suddenly his followers saw him throw up his
hands, as though overcome with astonishment, and,

A STUDY IN SCARLET. Ill

on joining him, they were affected in the same way by
the sight which met their eyes.

On the little plateau which crowned the barren hill
there stood a single giant bowlder, and against this
bowlder there lay a tall man, long-bearded and hard-
featured, but of an excessive thinness; his placid face
and regular breathing showed that he was fast asleep.
Beside him lay a little child, with her round white arms
encircling his brown, sinewy neck, and her golden-
haired head resting upon the breast of his velveteen
tunic. Her rosy lips were parted, showing the regu-
lar line of snow-white teeth within, and a playful smile
played over her infantile features. Her plump little
white legs, terminating in white socks and neat shoes
with shining buckles, offered a strange contrast to the
long, shrivelled members of her companion. On the
ledge of rock above this strange couple there stood
three solemn buzzards, who, at the sight of the new-
comers, uttered raucous screams of disappointment and
flapped sullenly away.

The cries of the foul birds awoke the two sleepers,
who stared about them in bewilderment. The man
staggered to his feet and looked down upon the plain
which had been so desolate when sleep had overtaken
him, and which was now traversed by this enormous
body of men and beasts. His face assumed an expres-
sion of incredulity as he gazed, and he passed his bony
hand over his eyes.

"This is what they call delirium, I guess," he mut-

112 A STVDY IN SCARLET.

tered. The child stood beside him, holding on to the
skirt of his coat, and said nothing, but looked all round
her with the wondering, questioning gaze of childhood.

The rescuing party were speedily able to convince
the two castaways that their appearance was no de-
lusion. One of them seized the little girl, and hoisted
her upon his shoulder, while two others supported her
gaunt companion and assisted him toward the wagons.

"My name is John Ferrier," the wanderer ex-
plained; "me and that little 'un are all that^s left o'
twenty-one people. The rest is all dead o' thirst and
hunger away down in the south."

"Is she your child?" asked some one.

"I guess she is now," the other cried, defiantly;
"she's mine cause I saved her. No man will take her
away from me. She's Lucy Ferrier from this day on.
Who are you, though?" he continued, glancing with
curiosity at his stalwart, sunburned rescuers; "there
seems to be a powerful lot of ye."

"Nigh upon ten thousand," said one of the young
men; "we are the persecuted children of God — the
chosen of the angel Merona."

"I never heard tell on him," said the wanderer.
"He appears to have chosen a fair crowd of ye."

"Do not jest at that which is sacred," said the other,
sternly. "We are of those who believe in those sacred
writings, drawn in Egyptian letters on plates of beaten
gold, which were handed unto the holy Joseph Smith,
at Palmyra. We have come from Nauvoo, in the

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 113

State of Illinois, where we had founded our temple.
We have come to seek a refuge from the violent man
and from the godless, even though it be in the heart of
the desert."

The name of Nauvoo evidently recalled recollec-
tions to John Ferrier.

^^I see," he said; ^^you are the Mormons."

"We are the Mormons," answered his companions,
with one voice.

"And where are you going?"

"We do not know. The hand of God is leading
us under th^ person of our prophet. You must come
before him. He shall say what is to be done with
you."

They had reached the base of the hill by this time,
and were surrounded by crowds of the pilgrims — pale-
faced, meek-looking women, strong, laughing chil-
dren, and anxious, earnest-eyed men. Many were the
cries of astonishment and of commiseration which
arose from them when they perceived the youth of one
of the strangers and the destitution of the other. Their
escort did not halt, however, but pushed on, followed
by a great crowd of Mormons, until they reached a
wagon which was conspicuous for its great size and for
the gaudiness and smartness of its appearance. Six
horses were yoked to it, whereas the others were fur-
nished with two, or, at most, four apiece. Beside the
driver there sat a man who could not have been more
than thirty years of age, but whose massive head and

6— Vol. 1

114 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

resolute expression marked him as a leader. He was
reading a brown-backed volume, but as the crowd ap-
proached he laid it aside, and Hstened attentively to
an account of the episode. Then he turned to the two
castaways.

"If we take you with us," he said, in solemn words,
"it can only be as believers in our own creed. We
shall have no wolves in our fold. Better far that your
bones should bleach in this wilderness than that you
should prove to be that little speck of decay which in
time corrupts the whole fruit. Will you come with
us on these terms?''

"Guess I'll come with you on any terms," said Fer-
rier, with such emphasis that the grave elders could
not restrain a smile. The leader alone retained his
stern, impressive expression.

"Take him. Brother Stangerson," he said; "give
him food and drink, and the child likewise. Let it be
your task also to teach him our holy creed. We have
delayed long enough. Forward! On, on to Zion!"

"On, on to Zion!" cried the crowd of Mormons, and
the words rippled down the long caravan, passing from
mouth to mouth until they died away in a dull mur-
mur in the far distance. With a cracking of whips
and a creaking of wheels the great wagon got into mo-
tion, and soon the whole caravan was winding along
once more. The elder to whose care the two waifs
had been committed led them to his wagon, where a
meal was already awaiting them.

TLENTV ON MV MIND-PLEN TV!"

— A Study in Sew lit

'A BTVDY IN SCARLET. IIB

"You shall remain here/' he said. "In a few days
you will have recovered from your fatigues. In the
meantime, remember that now and forever you are of
our religion. Brigham Young has said it, and he hag
spoken with the voice of Joseph Smith, which is the
voice of God.''

116 A STUDY IN SCARLET^

CHAPTEK n.

THE FLOWER OF UTAH.

This is not the place to commemorate tlie trials and
privations endured by the immigrant Mormons before
they came to their final haven. From the shores of
the Mississippi to the western slopes of the Rocky
Mountains they had struggled on with a constancy al-
most unparalleled in history. The savage man and
the savage beast, hunger, thirst, fatigue, and disease —
every impediment which E^ature could place in the
way, had all been overcome with Anglo-Saxon ten-
acity. Yet the long journey and the accumulated ter-
rors had shaken the hearts of the stoutest among them.
There was not one who did not sink upon his knees in
heartfelt prayer when they saw the broad valley of
Utah bathed in the sunlight beneath them, and learned
from the lips of their leader that this was the promised
land, and that these virgin acres were to be theirs f or-
evermore.

Young speedily proved himself to be a skilful ad-
ministrator, as well as a resolute chief. Maps were
drawn and charts prepared, in which the future oily

1 STUDY IN SCARLET, 117

was sketched out. All around farms were apportioned
and allotted in proportion to the standing of each in-
dividual. The tradesman was put to his trade and the
artisan to his calling. In the town streets and squares
sprang up as if by magic. In the country there was
draining and hedging, planting and clearing, until the
next summer saw the whole country golden with the
wheat crop. Everything prospered in the strange set-
tlement. Above all, the great temple which they had
erected in the centre of the city grew taller and larger.
From the first blush of dawn until the closing of the
twilight the clatter of the hammer and the rasp of the
saw was never absent from the monument which the
emigrants erected to Him who had led them safe
through many dangers.

The two castaways, John Ferrier and the little girl
who had shared his fortunes and had been adopted as
his daughter, accompanied the Mormons to the end of
their great pilgrimage. Little Lucy Ferrier was
borne along pleasantly enough in Elder Stangerson's
wagon, a retreat which she shared with the Mormon's
three wives and with his son, a headstrong, forward
boy of twelve. Having rallied, with the elasticity of
childhood, from the shock caused by her mother's
death, she soon became a pet with the women, and rec-
onciled herself to this new life in her moving canvas-
covered home. In the meantime Ferrier, having re-
covered from his privations, distinguished himself as
a useful guide and an indefatigable hunter. So rap-

118 A STUDY IN SOARLET,

idly did he gain the esteem of his new companions that
when they reached the end of their wanderings it was
unanimously agreed that he should be provided with
as large and fertile a tract of land as any of the settlers,
with the exception of Young himself, and of Stanger-
son, Kimball, Johnston, and Drebber, who were the
four principal elders.

On the farm thus acquired John Ferrier built him-
self a substantial log-house, which received so many
additions in succeeding years that it grew into a roomy
villa. He was a man of a practical turn of mind, keen
in his dealings, and skilful with his hands. His iron
constitution enabled him to work morning and evening
at improving and tilling his lands. Hence it camo
about that his farm and all that belonged to him pros-
pered exceedingly. In three years he was better off
than his neighbors, in six he was well-to-do, in nine he
was rich, and in twelve there were not half a dozen men
in the whole of Salt Lake City who could compare with
him. From the great inland sea to the distant Wah-
satch Mountains there was no name better known than
that of John Ferrier.

There was one way, and only one, in which he of-
fended the susceptibilities of his co-religionists. No
argument or persuasion could ever induce him to set
up a female establishment after the manner of his com-
panions. He never gave reasons for this persistent
refusal, but contented himself by resolutely and in-
flexibly adhering to his determination. There were

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 119

some wlio accused him of lukewarmness in his adopted
religion, and others who put it down to greed of wealth
and reluctance to incur expense. Others, again, spoke
of some early love affair, and of a fair-haired girl who
had pined away on the shores of the Atlantic. What-
ever the reason, Ferrier remained strictly celibate.
In every other respect he conformed to the religion of
the young settlement, and gaind the name of being an
orthodox and straight-walking man.

Lucy Ferrier grew up within the log-house, and as-
sisted her adopted father in all his undertakings. The
keen air of the mountains and the balsamic odor of the
pine-trees took the place of nurse and mother to the
young girl. As year succeeded to year she grew taller
and stronger, her cheek more ruddy, and her step
more elastic. Many a wayfarer upon the high road
which ran by Ferrier's farm felt long-forgotten
thoughts revive in his mind as he watched her lithe,
girlish figure tripping through the wheat-fields, or met
her mounted upon her father's mustang, and manag-
ing it with all the ease and grace of a true child of the
West. So the bud blossomed into a flower, and the
year which saw her father the richest of the farmers
left her as fair a specimen of American girlhood as
could be found in the whole Pacific slope.

It was not the father, however, who first discovered
that the child had developed into the woman. It sel-
dom is in such cases. That mysterious change is too
subtle and too gradual to be measured by dates. Least

120 'A STUDY IN SCARLET,

of all does tlie maiden herself know it until the tone
of a voice or the touch of a hand sets her heart thrilling
within her, and she learns, with a mixture of pride and
of fear, that a new and larger nature has awakened
within her. There are few who cannot recall that day
and remember the one little incident which heralded
the dawn of a new life. In the case of Lucy Terrier
the occasion was serious enough in itself, apart from
its future influence on her destiny and that of many
besides.

It was a warm Jime morning, and the Latter-Day
Saints were as busy as the bees whose hives they have
chosen for their emblem. In the fields and in the
streets rose the same hum of human industry. Down
the dusty high-roads defiled long streams of heavily
laden mules, all heading to the West, for the gold fever
had broken out in California, and the Overland Route
lay through the City of the Elect. There, too, were
droves of sheep and bullocks coming in from the out-
lying pasture lands, and trains of tired immigrants,
men and horses equally weary of their interminable
journey. Through all this motley assemblage, thread-
ing her way with the skill of an accomplished rider,
there galloped Lucy Ferrier, her fair face flushed with
the exercise and her long chestnut hair floating out be-
hind her. She had a commission from her father in
the city, and was dashing in as she had done many a
time before, with all the fearlessness of youth, think-
ing only of her task and how it was to be performed.

A STUDY IN 80ARLET. 121

The travel-stained adventurers gazed after her in as-
tonishment, and even the unemotional Indians, jour-
neying in with their peltry, relaxed their accustomed
stoicism as they marveled at the beauty of the pale-
faced maiden.

She had reached the outskirts of the city when she
found the road blocked by a great drove of cattle,
driven by half a dozen wild-looking herdsmen from
the plains. In her impatience she endeavored to pass
this obstacle by pushing her horse into what appeared
to be a gap. Scarcely had she got fairly into it, how-
ever, before the beasts closed in behind her, and she
found herself completely imbedded in the moving
stream of fierce-eyed, long-horned bullocks. Accus-
tomed as she was to deal with cattle, she was not
alarmed at her situation, but took advantage of every
opportunity to urge her horse on in the hope of push-
ing her way through the cavalcade. Unfortunately
the horns of one of the creatures, either by accident or
design, came in violent contact with the flank of the
mustang, and excited it to madness. In an instant it
reared up upon its hind legs with a snort of rage, and
pranced and tossed in a way that would have unseated
any but a most skilful rider. The situation was full of
peril. Every plunge of the excited horse brought it
against the horns again, and goaded it to fresh mad-
ness. It was all that the girl could do to keep herself
in the saddle, yet a slip would mean a terrible death
under the hoofs of the unwieldy and terrified animals.

122 A STVDY IN SCARLET.

Unaccustomed to sudden emergencies, her head began
to swim and her grip upon the bridle to relax. Choked
by the rising cloud of dust and by the steam from the
struggling creatures, she might have abandoned hep
efforts in despair but for a kindly voice at her elbow
which assured her of assistance. At the same moment
a sinewy brown hand caught the frightened horse by
the curb, and, forcing a way through the drove, soon
brought her to the outskirts.

"You're not hurt, I hope, miss," said her preserver,
respectfully.

She looked up at his dark, fierce face, and laughed
saucily.

"I'm awful frightened," she said, naively; "who-
ever would have thought that Poncho would have been
so scared by a lot of cows?"

"Thank God you kept your seat," the other said, ear-
nestly. He was a tall, savage-looking young fellow,
mounted on a powerful roan horse, and clad m the
rough dress of a hunter, with a long rifle slung over
his shoulder. "I guess you are the daughter of John
Ferrier," he remarked. "I saw you ride down from
his house. When you see him, ask him if he remem-
bers the Jefferson Hopes of St. Louis. If he's the same
Ferrier, my father and he were pretty thick."

"Hadn't you better come and ask yourself?" she
asked, demurely.

The young fellow seemed pleased at the suggestion,
and his dark eyes sparkled with pleasure.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 123

'Til do so," he said; "weVe been in the mountains
for two months, and are not over and above in visiting
condition. He must take us as he finds us.''

"He has a good deal to thank you for, and so have
I," she answered; "he's awful fond of me. If those
cows had jumped on me he'd have never got over it."

"Neither would I," said her companion.

"You? Well, I don't see that it would make much
matter to you, anyhow. You ain't even a friend of
ours."

The young hunter's dark face grew so gloomy over
this remark that Lucy Ferrier laughed aloud.

"There, I didn't mean that," she said; "of course
you are a friend now. You must come and see us.
"Now I must push along, or father won't trust me with
his business any more. Good-by."

"Good-by," he answered, raising his broad sombrero
and bending over her little hand. She wheeled her
mustang round, gave it a cut with her riding- whip, and
darted away down the broad road in a rolling cloud of
dust.

. Young Jefferson Hope rode on with his companions,
gloomy and taciturn. He and they had been among
the Nevada Mountains prospecting for silver, and
were returning to Salt Lake City in the hope of rais-
ing capital enough to work some lodes which they had
discovered. He had been as keen as any of them upon
the business until this sudden incident had drawn his
thoughts into another channel. The sight of the fair

124 1 STUD7 IN SCARLET,

young girl, as frank and wholesome as the Sierra
breezes, had stirred his volcanic, untamed heart to its
very depths. When she had vanished from his sight
he realized that a crisis had come in his Ufe, and that
neither silver speculations nor any other questions
could ever be of such importance to him as this new
and all-absorbing one. The love which had sprung up
in his heart was not the sudden, changeable fancy of a
boy, but rather the wild, fierce passion of a man of
strong will and imperious temper. He had been ac-
customed to succeed in all that he undertook. He
swore in his heart he would not fail in this if human
effort and human perseverance could render him suc-
cessful.

He called on John Ferrier that night, and many
times again, until his face was a familiar one at the
farmhouse. John, cooped up in the valley and ab-
sorbed in his work, had little chance of learning the
news from the outside world during the last twelve
years. All this Jefferson Hope was able to tell him,
and in a style which interested Lucy as well as her
father. He had been a pioneer in California, and
could narrate many a strange tale of fortunes made
and fortunes lost in those wild, halcyon days. He had
been a scout, too, and a trapper, a silver explorer, and a
ranchman. Wherever stirring adventures were to be
had, Jefferson Hope had been there in search of them.
He soon became a favorite with the old farmer, who
spoke eloquently of his virtues. On such occasions

'A 8TUD7 IN SCARLET, 125

Lucy was silent, but her blushing cheek and her
bright, happy eyes, showed only too clearly that her
young heart was no longer her own. Her honest
father may not have observed these symptoms, but
they were assuredly not thrown away upon the man
who had won her affections.

It was a summer evening when he came galloping
down the road and pulled up at the gate. She was at
the doorway, and came down to meet him. He threw
the bridle over the fence and strode up the pathway.

"I am off, Lucy," he said, taking her two hands in
his and gazing tenderly down into her face; "I won't
ask you to come with me now, but will you be ready
to come when I am here again?"

"And when will that be?" she asked, blushing and
laughing.

"A couple of months at the outside. I will come
and claim you then, my darling. There's no one who
can stand between us."

"And how about father?" she asked.

"He has given his consent, provided we get these
mines working all right. I have no fear on that
head."

"Oh, well, of course, if you and father have ar-
ranged it all, there's no more to be said," she whis-
pered, with her cheek against his broad breast.

"Thank God!" he said, hoarsely, stooping and kiss-
ing her. "It is settled then. The longer I stay the
harder it will be for me to go. They are waiting for

126 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

me at the canyon. Good-by, my own darling — good«
by. In two months you shall see me.'*

He tore himself from her as he spoke, and, flinging
himself upon his horse, galloped furiously away, never
even looking round, as though afraid that his resolu-
tion might fail him if he took one glance at what he
was leaving. She stood at the gate, gazing after him
until he vanished from sight. Then she walked back
into the house, the happiest girl in all Utalu

A STUDY IN SCARLET. U1

CHAPTER in.

JOHN FEREIER TALKS WITH THE PEOPHET.

Three weeks had passed since Jefferson Hope and
his comrades had departed from Salt Lake City. John
Ferrier's heart was sore within him when he thought
of the young man's return, and of the impending loss
of his adopted child. Yet her bright and happy face
reconciled him to the arrangement more than any ar-
gument could have done. He had always deter-
mined, deep down in his resolute heart, that nothing
would ever induce him to allow his daughter to wed a
Mormon. Such a marriage he regarded as no mar-
riage at all, but as a shame and a disgrace. Whatever
he might think of the Mormon doctrines, upon that
one point he was inflexible. He had to seal his mouth
on the subject, however, for to express an unorthodox
opinion wks a dangerous matter in those days in the
Land of the Saints.

Yes, a dangerous matter — so dangerous that even
the most saintly dared only whisper their religious
opinions with bated breath, lest something which fell

128 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

from their lips might be misconstrued and bring down
a swift retribution upon them. The victims of perse-
cution had now turned persecutors on their own ac-
count, and persecutors of the most terrible description.
Not the inquisition of Seville, nor the German Vehm-
gericht, nor the secret societies of Italy, were ever able
to put a more formidable machinery in motion than
that which cast a cloud over the Territory of Utah.

Its invisibility, and the mystery which was attached
to it, made this organization doubly terrible. It ap-
peared to be omniscent and omnipotent, and yet was
neither seen nor heard. The man who held out
against the church vanished away, and none knew
whither he had gone or what had befallen him. His
wife and children awaited him at home, but no father
had ever returned to tell them how he had fared at the
hands of his secret judges. A rash word or a hasty
act was followed by annihilation, and yet none knew
what the nature might be of this terrible power which
was suspended over them. No wonder that men went
about in fear and trembling, and that even in the heart
of the wilderness they dared not whisper the doubts
which oppressed them.

At first this vague and terrible power was exercised
only upon the recalcitrants, who, having embraced the
Mormon faith, wished afterward to pervert or to
abandon it. Soon, however, it took a wider range.
The supply of adult women was running short, and
polygamy, without a female population on which to

A 8TUDY IN SCARLET, 129

draw, was a barren doctrine indeed. Strange rumors
began to be bandied about — rumors of murdered im-
migrants and rifled camps in regions where Indians
had never been seen. Fresh women appeared in the
harems of the elders — women who pined and wept,
and bore upon their faces the traces of an unextin-
guishable horror. Belated wanderers upon the moun-
tains spoke of gangs of armed men, masked, stealthy,
and noiseless, who flitted bj them in the darkness.
These tales and rumors took substance and shape, and
were corroborated and recorroborated, until they re-
solved themselves into a definite name. To this day,
in the lonely ranches of the West, the name of the
Danite Band, or the Avenging Angels, is a sinister and
an ill-omened one.

Fuller knowledge of the organization which pro-
duced such terrible results served to increase rather
than to lessen the horror which it inspired in the minds
of men. ItTone knew who belonged to this ruthless
society. The names of the participators in the deeds
of blood and violence, done under the name of relig-
ion, were kept profoundly secret. The very friend to
whom you communicated your misgivings as to the
prophet and his mission might be one of those who
would come forth at night with fire and sword to exact
a terrible reparation. Hence every man feared his
neighbor, and none spoke of the things which wero
nearest his heart.

One fine morning John Ferrier was about to set out

130 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

to his wheat fields when he heard the click of the latch,
and, looking through the window, saw a stout, sandy-
haired, middle-aged man coming up the pathway.
His heart leaped to his mouth, for this was none other
than the great Brigham Young himself. Full of
trepidation, for he knew that such a visit boded him lit-
tle good, Ferrier ran to the door to greet the Mormon
chief. The latter, however, received his salutation
coldly, and followed him with a stem face into the
sitting-room.

"Brother Ferrier," he said, taking a seat and eyeing
the farmer keenly from under his light-colored eye-
lashes, "the true believers have been good friends to
you. We picked you up when you were starving in
the desert, we shared our food with you, led you safe
to the Chosen Valley, gave you a goodly share of land,
and allowed you to wax rich under our protection. Is
not this so?''

"It is so," answered John Ferrier.

"In return for all this we asked but one condition:
that was, that you should embrace the true faith, and
conform in every way to its usages. This you prom-
ised to do, and this, if common report says truly, you
have neglected."

"And how have I neglected it?" asked Ferrier,
throwing out his hands in expostulation. "Have I
not given to the common fund ? Have I not attended
at the temple? Have I not"

"Where are your wives?" asked Young, looking

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 131

round him. "Call them in, that I may greet them."

"It is true that I have not married," Ferrier an-
swered. "But women were few, and there were many
who had better claims than I. I was not a lonely
man; I had my daughter to attend to my wants."

"It is of that daughter that I would speak to you,"
said the leader of the Mormons. "She has grown to
be the flower of Utah, and has found favor in the eyes
of many who are high in the land."

John Ferrier groaned internally.

"There are stories of her which I would fain disbe-
lieve— stories that she is sealed to some Gentile. This
must be the gossip of idle tongues. What is the thir-
teenth rule in the code of the sainted Joseph Smith?
'Let every maiden of the true faith marry one of the
elect ; for if she wed a Gentile, she commits a grievous
sin.' This being so, it is impossible that you, who pro-
fess the holy creed, should suffer your daughter to vio-
late it."

John Ferrier made no answer, but he played nerv-
ously with his riding-whip.

"Upon this one point your whole faith shall be
tested — so it has been decided in the Sacred Council
of Four. The girl is young, and we would not have
her wed gray hairs, neither would we deprive her of all
choice. "We elders have many heifers,* but our chil-
dren must also be provided. Stangerson has a son,

♦Heber C. Kimball, In one of his sermons, alludes to his
hundred wives under this endearing epithet

133 'A. STUDY IN SCARLET,

and Drebber has a son, and either of them would
gladly welcome your daughter to their house. Let
her choose between them. They are young and rich,
and of the true faith. What say you to that?"

Ferrier remained silent for some little time with his
brows knitted.

"You will give us time," he said, at last. ''My
daughter is very young — she is scarce of an age to
marry."

''She shall have a month to choose," said Young,
rising from his seat. "At the end of that time she
shall give her answer."

He was passing through the door when he turned,
with flushed face and flashing eyes.

"It were better for you, John Ferrier," he thun-
dered, "that you and she were now lying blanched
skeletons upon the Sierra Blanco, than that you should
put your weak wills against the orders of the Holy
Four!"

With a threatening gesture of his hand he turned
from the door, and Ferrier heard his heavy step
scrunching along the shingly path.

He was still sitting with his elbows upon his knees,
considering how he should broach the matter to his
daughter, when a soft hand was laid upon his, and,
looking up, he saw her standing beside him. One
glance at her pale, frightened face showed him that
ehe had heard what had passed.

^'I could not help it," she said, in answer to his look*

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 133

^His voice rang tlirougli the house. Oh, father I
father! what shall we do?'^

^^Don't you scare yourself," he answered, drawing
her to him and passing his broad, rough hand caress-
ingly over her chestnut hair. "We'll fix it up some-
how or another. You don't find your fancy kind o'
lessening for this chap, do you?"

A sob and a squeeze of his hand was her only an-
swer.

"ISTo; of course not. I shouldn't care to hear you
say you did. He's a likely lad, and he's a Christian,
which is more than these folks here, in spite o' all their
praying and preaching. There's a party starting for
!N'evada to-morrow, and I'll manage to send him a mes-
sage letting him know the hole we are in. If I know
anything o' that young man, he'll be back here with
a speed that would whip electro-telegraphs."

Lucy laughed through her tears at her father's de-
scription.

"When he comes, he will advise us for the best.
But it is for you that I am frightened, dear. One
hears — one hears such dreadful stories about those
who oppose the prophet; something temble always
happens to them."

"But we haven't opposed him yet," her father an-
swered. "It will be time to look out for squalls when
we do. We have a clear month before us; at the end
of that I guess we had best shin out of Utah."

"Leave Utah?"

134 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

"That's about the size of it."

'^But the farm?"

"We will raise as much as we can in money, and let
the rest go. To tell the truth, Lucy, it isn't the first
time I have thought of doing it. I don't care about
knuckling under to any man, as these folk do to their
darned prophet. I'm a free-born American, and it's
all new to me. Guess I'm too old to learn. If he
comes browsing about this farm he might chance to
run up against a charge of buckshot traveling in the
opposite direction."

"But they won't let us leave," his daughter ob-
jected.

"Wait till Jefferson comes, and we'll soon manage
that. In the meantime, don't you fret yourself, my
dearie, and don't get your eyes swelled up, or else he'll
be walking into me when he sees you. There's nothing
to be afeard about, and there's no danger at all."

John Ferrier uttered these consoling remarks in a
very confident tone, but she could not help observing
that he paid unusual care to the fastening of the doors
that night, and that he carefully cleaned and loaded
the rusty old shotgun which hung upon the wall of hig
bedroom.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 185

CHAPTER IV.

A FLIGHT FOE LIFE.

On the morning which followed his interview with
the Mormon prophet, John Ferrier went into Salt
Lake City, and having found his acquaintance who was
bound for the Nevada Mountains, he intrusted him
with his message to Jefferson Hope. In it he told the
young man of the imminent danger which threatened
them, and how necessary it was that he should return.
Having done this, he felt easier in his mind and re-
turned home with a lighter heart.

As he approached his farm he was surprised to see
a horse hitched to each of the posts of the gate. Still
more surprised was he on entering to find two young
men in possession of his sitting-room. One, with
a long, pale face, was leaning back in the rocking
chair, with his feet cocked up upon the stove. The
other, a bull-necked youth, with coarse, bloated fea-
tures, was standing in front of the window, with his
hands in his pockets, whistling a popular hymn. Both
of them nodded to Ferrier as he entered, and the one
in the rocking chair commenced the conversation.

136 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"Maybe you don't know us," he said. "This here
is the son of Elder Drebber, and I'm Joseph Stanger-
son, who traveled with you in the desert when the Lord
stretched out His hand and gathered you into the true
fold."

"As he will all the nations, in his own good time,"
said the other, in a nasal voice; "He grindeth slowly,
but exceeding small."

John Ferrier bowed coldly. He had guessed who
his visitors were.

"We have come," continued Stangerson, "at the
advice of our fathers, to solicit the hand of your daugh-
ter for whichever of us may seem good to you and to
her. As I have but four wives and Brother Drebber
here has seven, it appears to me that my claim is the
stronger one."

"Nay, nay. Brother Stangerson," cried the other;
"the question is not how many wives we have, but how
many we can keep. My father has now given over his
mills to me, and I am the richer man."

"But my prospects are better," said the other,
warmly. "When the Lord removes my father I shall
have his tanning yard and his leather factory. Then
I am your elder, and am higher in the church."

"It will be for the maiden to decide," rejoined
young Drebber, smirking at his own reflection in the
glass. "We will leave it all to her decision."

During this dialogue John Ferrier had stood f um-

A STUDY IN SCARLET, 137

ing in the doorway, hardly able to keep his riding-whip
from the backs of his two visitors.

"Look here/' he said, at last, striding up to them;
"when my daughter summons you, you can come ; un-
til then, I don't want to see your faces again."

The two young Mormons stared at him in amaze-
ment. In their eyes this competition between them
for the maiden's hand was the highest of honors both
to her and her father.

"There are two ways out of the room," cried Fer-
rier; "there is the door, and there is the window.
Which do you care to use ?"

His brown face looked so savage, and his gaunt
hands so threatening, that his visitors sprang to their
feet and beat a hurried retreat. The old farmer fol-
lowed them to the door.

"Let me know when you have settled which it is to
be," he said, sardonically.

"You shall smart for this!" Stangerson cried, white
with rage. "You have defied the prophet and the
Council of Four. You shall rue it to the end of your
days."

"The hand of the Lord shall be heavy upon you,"
cried young Drebber; "He will arise and smite you!"

"Then I'll start the smiting," exclaimed Ferrier,
furiously, and he would have rushed up stairs for his
gun had not Lucy seized him by the arm and restrained
him. Before he could escape from her the clatter of

7— Vol. 1

138 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

horses' hoofs told him that they were beyond his reach.

^'The young canting rascals!" he exclaimed, wiping
the perspiration from his forehead; "I would sooner
see you in your grave, my girl, than the wife of either
of them."

^^And so should I, father," she answered, with spirit;
"but Jefferson will soon be here."

"Yes; it will not be long before he comes. The
sooner the better, for we do not know what t-heir next
move may be."

It was, indeed, high time that some one capable of
giving advice and help should come to the aid of the
sturdy old farmer and his adopted daughter. In the
whole history of the settlement there had never been
such a case of rank disobedience to the authority of the
elders. If minor errors were punished so stemlv,
what would be the fate of this arch rebel? Fen-ier
knew that his wealth and position would be of no avail
to him. Others as well known and as rich as himself
had been spirited away before now, and their goods
given over to the church. He was a brave man, but
he trembled at the vague, shadowy terrors which hung
over him. Any known danger he could face with a
firm lip, but this suspense was unnerving. He con-
cealed his fears from his daughter, however, and af-
fected to make light of the whole matter, though she,
with the keen eye of love, saw plainly that he was ill
at ease.

He expected that he would receive some message or

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 139

remonstrance from Young as to his conduct, and he
was not mistaken, though it came in an unlooked-for
manner. Upon rising next morning he found, to his
surprise, a small square of paper pinned on the coverlet
of his bed just over his chest. On it was printed, in
bold, straggling letters:

''Twenty-nine days are given you for amendment,
and then "

The dash was more fear-inspiring than any threat
could have been. How this warning came into his
room puzzled John Ferrier sorely, for his servants
slept in an out-house, and the doors and windows had
all been secured. He crumpled the paper up and said
nothing to his daughter, but the incident struck a chill
into his heart. The twenty-nine days were evidently
the balance of the month which Young had promised.
What strength or courage could avail against an enemy
armed with such mysterious powers? The hand
which fastened that pin might have struck him to the
heart, and he could never have known who had slain
him.

Still more shaken was he next morning. They had
sat down to their breakfast when Lucy, with a cry of
surprise, pointed upward. In the centre of the ceil-
ing was scrawled, with a burned stick apparently, the
number 28. To his daughter it was unintelligible,
and he did not enlighten her. That night he sat up

140 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

witli his gun and kept watch and ward. He saw and
he heard nothing, and yet in the morning a great 27
had been painted upon the outside of his door.

Thus day followed day; and as sure as morning
came he found that his unseen enemies had kept their
register, and had marked up in some conspicuous posi-
tion how many days were still left to him out of the
month of grace. Sometimes the fatal numbers ap-
peared upon the walls, sometimes upon the floors; oc-
casionally they were on small placards stuck upon the
garden gate or the railings. With all his vigilance
John Ferrier could not discover whence these daily
warnings proceeded. A horror, which was almost
superstitious, came upon him at the sight of them. He
became haggard and restless, and his eyes had the trou-
bled look of some haunted creature. He had but one
hope in life now, and that was for the arrival of the
young hunter from Nevada.

Twenty had changed to fifteen, and fifteen to ten;
but there was no news of the absentee. One by one
the numbers dwindled down, and still there came no
sign of him. Whenever a horseman clattered down
the road or a driver shouted at his team, the old farmer
hurried to the gate, thinking that help had arrived at
last. At last, when he saw five giving way to four,
and that again to three, he lost heart and abandoned all
hope of escape. Single-handed, and with his limited
knowledge of the mountains which surrounded the
settlement, he knew that he was powerless. The more

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 141

frequented roads were strictly watched and guarded,
and none could pass along them without an order from
the council. Turn which way he would, there ap-
peared to be no avoiding the blow which hung over
him. Yet the old man never wavered in his resolu-
tion to part with life itself before he consented to what
he regarded as his daughter's dishonor.

He was sitting alone one evening, pondering deeply
over his troubles, and searching vainly for some way
out of them. That morning had shown the figure 2
upon the wall of his house, and the next day would
be the last of the allotted time. What was to happen
then ? All manner of vague and terrible fancies filled
his imagination. And his daughter — what was to
become of her after he was gone? Was there no es-
cape from the invisible network which was drawn all
around them? He sunk his head upon the table and
sobbed at the thought of his own impotence.

What was that? In the silence he heard a gentle
scratching sound — low, but very distinct, in the quiet
of the night. It came from the door of the house.
Ferrier crept into the hall and listened intently. There
was a pause for a few moments, and then the low, in-
sidious sound was repeated. Some one was evidently
tapping very gently upon one of the panels of the door.
Was it some midnight assassin who had come to carry
out the murderous order of the secret tribunal? Or
was it some agent who was marking up that the last
day of grace had arrived? John Ferrier felt that in-

142 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

stant death would be better than the suspense which
shook his nerves and chilled his heart. Springing
forward, he drew the bolt and threw the door open.

Outside all was calm and quiet. The night was
fine, and the stars were twinkling brightly overhead.
The little front garden lay before the farmer's eyes,
bounded by the fence and gate ; but neither there nor
on the road was any human being to be seen. With
a sigh of relief Ferrier looked to right and to left, un-
til, happening to glance straight down at his feet, he
saw, to his astonishment, a man lying flat upon his face
upon the ground, with his arms and legs all asprawl.

So unnerved was he at the sight that he leaned up
against the wall with his hand to his throat to stifle his
inclination to call out. His first thought was that the
prostrate figure was that of some wounded or dying
man, but as he watched it he saw it writhe along the
ground and into the hall with the rapidity and noise-
lessness of a serpent. Once within the house the man
sprung to his feet, closed the door, and revealed to the
astonished farmer the fierce face and resolute expres-
sion of Jefferson Hope.

"Good God!'' gasped John Ferrier. "How you
scared me! What ever made you come in like that?"

"Give me food," the other said, hoarsely. "I have
had no time for bite or sup for eight-and-forty hours."
He flung himself upon the cold meat and bread which
were still lying upon the table from his host's supper,
and devoured them voraciously. "Does Lucy bear

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 14:3

up well?" he asked, when he had satisfied his hunger.

"Yes; she does not know the danger/' her father
answered.

"That is well. The house is watched on every side.
That is why I crawled my way up to it. They may be
darned sharp, but they're not quite shai-p enough to
catch a Washoe hunter.''

John Ferrier felt a different man now that he re-
alized that he had a devoted ally. He seized the
young man's leathery hand and wrung it cordially.

"You're a man to be proud of," he said. "There
are not many who would come to share our danger and
our troubles."

"You've hit it there, pard," the young hunter an-
swered. "I have a respect for you, but if you were
alone in this business I'd think twice before I put my
head into such a hornets' nest. It's Lucy that brings
me here, and before harm comes on her I guess there
will be one less o' the Hope family in Utah."

"Whatare we todo?"

"To-morrow is your last day, and unless you act to-
night you are lost. I have a mule and two horses
waiting in the Eagle Ravine. How much money have
you?"

"Two thousand dollars in gold, and five in notes."

"That will do. I have as much more to add to it.
We must push for Carson City through the mountains.
You had best wake Lucy. It is as well that the ser-
vants do not sleep in the house."

144 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

While Femer was absent preparing his daughter
for the approaching journey, Jefferson Hope packed
all the eatables that he could find into a small parcel,
and filled a stoneware jar with water, for he knew by
experience that the mountain wells were few and far
between. He had hardly completed his arrangements
before the farmer returned with his daughter, all
dressed and ready for a start. The greeting between
the lovers was warm but brief, for minutes were
precious, and there was much to be done.

"We must make our start at once," said Jefferson
Hope, speaking in a low but resolute voice, like one
who realizes the greatness of the peril, but has steeled
his heart to meet it. "The front and back entrances
are watched, but with caution we may get away
through the side window and across the fields. Once
on the road, we are only two miles from the ravine
where the horses are waiting. By daybreak we should
be half-way through the mountains."

"What if we are stopped?" asked Ferrier.

Hope slapped the revolver butt which protruded
from the front of his tunic.

"If they are too many for us, we shall take two or
three of them with us," he said, with a sinister smile.

The lights inside the house had all been extin-
guished, and from the darkened window Ferrier peered
over the fields which had been his own, and which he
was now about to abandon forever. He had long
nerved himself to the sacrifice, however, and the

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 14:5

thought of the honor and happiness of his daughter
outweighed any regret at his ruined fortunes. All
looked so peaceful and happy, the rustling trees and
the broad, silent stretch of grain land, that it was diffi-
cult to realize that the spirit of murder lurked through
it all. Yet the white face and set expression of the
young hunter showed that in his approach to the house
he had seen enough to satisfy him upon that head.

Ferrier carried the bag of gold and notes, Jefferson
Hope had the scanty provisions and water, while Lucy
had a small bimdle containing a few of her more val-
ued possessions. Opening the window very slowly
and carefully, they waited until a dark cloud had
somewhat obscured the night, and then one by one
passed through into the little garden. With bated
breath and crouching figures they stumbled across it
and gained the shelter of the hedge, which they skirted
until they came to the gap which opened into the corn-
field. They had just reached this point when the
young man seized his two companions and dragged
them down into the shadow, where they lay silent and
trembling.

It was as well that his prairie training had given Jef-
ferson Hope the ears of a lynx. He and his friends
had hardly crouched down before the melancholy
hooting of a mountain owl was heard within a few
yards of them, which was immediately answered by
another hoot at a small distance. At the same mo-
ment a vague, shadowy figure emerged from the gap

14:6 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

for whicli they had been making, and uttered the plain-
tive signal cry again, on which a second man appeared
out of the obscurity.

^^ To-morrow at midnight/' said the first, who ap-
peared to be in authority. '^When the whip-poor-will
calls three times.''

''It is well," returned the other. "Shall I tell
Brother Drebber?"

"Pass it on to him, and from him to the others.
Nine to seven!"

"Seven to fi^e!" repeated the other, and the two
figures flitted away in different directions. Their con-
cluding words had evidently been some form of sign
and countersign. The instant that their footsteps
had died away in the distance Jefferson Hope sprang
to his feet, and, helping his companions through the
gap, leii the way across the fields at full speed, sup-
porting and half carrying the girl when her strength
appeared to fail her.

"Hurry on ! hurry on !" he gasped from time to time.
"We are through the line of sentinels. Everything
depends on speed. Hurry on!"

Once on the high-road they made rapid progress.
Only once did they meet any one, and then they man-
aged to slip into a field, and so avoid recognition. Be-
fore reaching the town the hunter branched away into
a rugged and narrow footpath which led to the moun-
tains. Two dark, jagged peaks loomed above them
through the darkness, and the defile which led between

A. STUDY IN SCARLET. 147

them was the Eagle Ravine, in which the horses were
awaiting them. With unerring instinct Jefferson
Hope picked his way among the great bowlders and
along the bed of a dried-up watercourse, until he came
to the retired corner, screened with rocks, where the
faithful animals had been picketed. The girl was
placed upon the mule and old Ferrier upon one of the
horses, with his money-bag, while Jefferson Hope led
the other along the precipitous and dangerous paths.

It was a bewildering route for any one who was not
accustomed to face Nature in her wildest moods. On
the one side a great crag towered up a thousand feet or
more, black, stern, and menacing, with long basaltic
columns upon his rugged surface like the ribs of some
petrified monster. On the other hand, a wild chaos
of bowlders and debris made all advance impossible.
Between the two ran the irregular track, so narrow in
places that they had to travel in Indian file, and so
rough that only practiced riders could have traversed
it at all. Yet, in spite of all dangers and difficulties,
the hearts of the fugitives were light within them, for
every step increased the distance between them and
the terrible despotism from which they were flying.

They soon had a proof, however, that they were
still within the jurisdiction of the Saints. They had
reached the very wildest and most desolate portion of
the pass, when the girl gave a startled cry and pointed
upward. On a rock which overlooked the track, show-
ing out dark and plain against the sky, there stood a

148 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

solitary sentinel. He saw them as soon as they per-
ceived him, and his military challenge of ^'Who goes
there?" rang through the silent ravine.

^Travelers for Nevada,'^ said Jefferson Hope, with
his hand upon the rifle which hung by his saddle.

They could see the lonely watcher fingering his gun,
and peering down at them as if dissatisfied at their
reply.

^^By whose permission?" he asked.

^'The Holy Four," answered Ferrier. His Mor-
mon experiences had taught him that that was the
highest authority to which he could refer.

"Nine to seven," cried the sentinel.

"Seven to five," returned Jefferson Hope promptly,
remembering the countersign which he had heard in
the garden.

"Pass, and the Lord go with you," said the voice
from above.

Beyond this post the path broadened out, and the
horses were able to break into a trot. Looking back,
they could see the solitary watcher leaning upon his
gun, and knew that they had passed the outlying post
of the Chosen People, and that freedom lay before
them.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 149

CHAPTER V.

THE AVENGING ANGELS.

All night long their course lay through intricate
defiles and over irregular and rock-strewn paths.
More than once they lost their way, but Hope's inti-
mate knowledge of the mountains enabled them to re-
gain the track once more. When morning broke a
scene of marvelous though savage beauty lay beiore
them. In every direction the great snow-capped
peaks hemmed them in, peeping over one another's
shoulders to the far horizon. So steep were the rocky
banks on either side of them that the larch and the
pine seemed to be suspended over their heads, and to
need only a gust of wind to come hurtling down upon
them. Nor was the fear entirely an illusion, for the
barren valley was thickly strewn with trees and bowl-
ders which had fallen in a similar manner. Even as
they passed a great rock came thundering down with
a hoarse rattle which woke the echoes in the silent
gorges, and startled the weary horses into a gallop.

As the sun rose slowly above the eastern horizon the
caps of the great mountains lighted up one after the

.150 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

other, like lamps at a festival, until they were all ruddy
and glowing. The magnificent spectacle cheered the
hearts of the three fugitives and gave them fresh en-
ergy. At a wild torrent which swept out of a ravine
they called a halt and watered their horses, while they
partook of a hasty breakfast. Lucy and her father
would fain have rested longer, but Jefferson Hope was
inexorable.

^They will be upon our track by this time," he said.
^^Everything depends upon our speed. Once safe in
Carson, we may rest for the remainder of our lives."

During the whole of that day they struggled on
through the defiles, and by evening they calculated
that they were over thirty miles from their enemies.
At night-time they chose the base of a beetling crag,
where the rocks offered some protection from the chill
wind, and there, huddled together for warmth, they
enjoyed a few hours' sleep. Before daybreak, how-
ever, they were up and on their way once more. They
had seen no signs of any pursuers, and Jefferson Hope
began to think that they were fairly out of the reach
of the terrible organization whose enmity they had in-
curred. He little knew how far that iron grasp could
reach, or how soon it was to close upon them and crush
them.

About the middle of the second day of their flight
their scanty store of provisions began to run out. This
gave the hunter little uneasiness, for there was game
to be had among the mountains, and he had frequently

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 151

before had to depend upon his rifle for the needs of
life. Choosing a sheltered nook he piled together a
few dry branches and made a blazing fire, at which his
companions might warm themselves, for they were
now nearly five thousand feet above the sea-level, and
the air was bitter and keen. Ha\dng tethered the
horses and bid Lucy adieu, he threw his gun over his
shoulder and set out in search of whatever chance
might throw in his way. Looking back, he saw the
old man and the young girl crouching over the blazing
fire, while the three animals stood motionless in the
background. Then the intervening rocks hid them
from his view.

He walked for a couple of miles through one ravine
after another without success, though from the marks
upon the bark of the trees and other indications he
judged that there were numerous bears in the vicinity.
At last, after two or three hours' fruitless search, he
was thinking of turning back in despair, when, casting
his eyes upward, he saw a sight which sent a thrill of
pleasure through his heart. On the edge of a jutting
pinnacle, three or four hundred feet above him, there
stood a creature somewhat resembling a sheep in ap-
pearance, but armed with a pair of gigantic horns.
The big-horn — for so it is called — was acting, prob-'
ably, as a guardian over a flock which were invisible
to the hunter; but fortunately it was heading in the
opposite direction, and had not perceived him. Ly-
ing on his back, he rested his rifle on a rock and took a

152 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

long and steady aim before drawing the trigger. The
animal sprang into the air, tottered for a moment upon
the edge of the precipice, and then came crashing
down into the valley beneath.

The creature was too unwieldy to lift, so the hunter
contented himself with cutting away one haunch and
part of the flank. With this trophy over his shoulder,
he hastened to retrace his steps, for the evening was
already drawing in. He had hardly started, however,
before he realized the difficulty which faced him. In
his eagerness he had wandered far past the ra\dnes
which were known to him, and it was no easy matter
to pick out the path which he had taken. The valley
in which he found himself divided and subdivided into
many gorges, which were so like one another that it
was impossible to distinguish one from the other. He
followed one for a mile or more until he came to a
mountain torrent which he was sure that he had never
seen before. Convinced that he had taken the wrong
turn, he tried another, but with the same result.
Night was coming on rapidly, and it was almost dark
before he at last found himself in a defile which was
familiar to him. Even then it was no easy matter to
keep to the right track, for the moon had not yet risen
and the high cliffs on either side made the obscurity
more profound. Weighed down with his burden, and
weary from his exertions, he stumbled along, keeping
up his heart by the reflection that every step brought
him nearer to Lucy, and that he carried with him

A STUDY ly SCARLET, 153

enough to insure them food for the remainder of the
journey.

He had now come to the mouth of the very defile
in which he had left tliem. Even in the darkness he
could recognize the outlines of the cliffs which bound-
ed it. They must, he reflected, be awaiting him anx-
iously, for he had been absent nearly -^ve hours.
In the gladness of his heart he put his hands to
his mouth and made the glen re-echo to a loud halloo
as a signal that he was coming. He paused and lis-
tened for an answer. None came save his own cry,
which clattered up the dreary, silent ravines, and was
bonie back to his ears in countless repetitions. Again
he shouted, even louder than before, and again no
whisper came back from the friends whom he had left
such a short time ago. A vague, nameless dread came
over him, and he hurried onward frantically, dropping
the precious food in his agitation.

When he turned the corner he came in full sight
of the spot where the fire had been lighted. There
was still a glowing pile of wood-ashes there, but it had
evidently not been tended since his departure. The
same dead silence still reigned all round. With his
fears all changed to convictions, he hurried on. There
was no living creature near the remains of the fire ; ani-
mals, man, maiden, all were gone. It was only too
clear that some sudden and terrible disaster had oc-
curred during his absence — a disaster which had em-
braced them all and yet had left no traces behind it.

154 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Bewildered and stunned by this blow, Jefferson
Hope felt his head spin round, and had to lean upon
his rifle to save himself from falling. He was essen-
tially a man of action, however, and speedily recovered
from his temporary impotence. Seizing a half-con-
sumed piece of wood from the smoldering fire he blew
it into a flame, and proceeded with its help to examine
the little camp. The ground was all stamped down by
the feet of horses, showing that a large party of
mounted men had overtaken the fugitives, and the
direction of their tracks proved that they had after-
ward turned back to Salt Lake City. Had they car-
ried back both of his companions with them? Jeffer-
son Hope had almost persuaded himself that they must
have done so, when his eye fell upon an object which
made every nerve of his body tingle within him. A
little way on one side of the camp was a low-lying heap
of reddish soil, which had assuredly not been there be-
fore. There was no mistaking it for anything but a
newly dug grave. As the young hunter approached it
he perceived that a stick had been planted on it, with a
sheet of paper stuck in the cleft fork of it. The in-
scription on the paper was brief, but to the point :

JOHN FEKKIER,

FORMERLY OF SALT LAKE CITY.

Died August 4, 1860.
The sturd}^ old man, whom he had left so short a

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 155

time before, was gone, then, and this was all his epi-
taph. Jefferson Hope looked wildly round to see if
there was a second grave, but there was no sign of one.
Lucy had been carried back by their terrible pursuers
to fulfil her original destiny, by becoming one of the
harem of the elder's son. As the young fellow re-
alized the certainty of her fate and his own powerless-
ness to prevent it, he wished that he, too, was lying
with the old farmer in his last silent resting-place.

Again, however, his active spirit shook off the leth-
argy which springs from despair. If there wag
nothing else left to him he could at least devote his life
to revenge. With indomitable patience and perse-
verance, Jefferson Hope possessed also a power of sus-
tained vindictiveness which he may have learned from
the Indians among whom he had lived. As he stood
by the desolate fire he felt that the only one thing
which could assuage his grief would be a thorough
and complete retribution brought by his own hand
upon his enemies. His strong will and untiring en-
ergy should, he determined, be devoted to that one end.
With a grim, white face, he retraced his steps to where
he had dropped the food, and, having stirred up the
smoldering fire, he cooked enough to last him for a
few days. This he made up into a bundle, and, tired
as he was, he set himself to walk back through the
mountains upon the track of the Avenging Angels.

For five days he toiled, footsore and weary, through
the defiles which he had already traversed on horse-

156 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

back. At niglit lie flung himself down among the
rocks and snatched a few hours of sleep; but before
daybreak he was always well on his way. On the
sixth day he reached the Eagle Ravine, from which
they had commenced their ill-fated flight. Thence
he could look down upon the home of the Saints.
"Worn and exhausted, he leaned upon his rifle and
shook his gaunt hand fiercely at the silent, widespread
city beneath him. As he looked at it he observed that
there were flags in some of the principal streets, and
other signs of festivity. He was still speculating as
to what this might mean when he heard the clatter of
a horse's hoofs and saw a mounted man riding toward
him. As he approached he recognized him as a Mor-
mon named Cowper, to whom he had rendered ser-
vices at different times. He therefore accosted him
when he got up to him, with the object of finding out
what Lucy Terrier's fate had been.

"I am Jefferson Hope," he said. ^^You remember
me?"

The Mormon looked at him with undisguised as-
tonishment. Indeed, it was difficult to recognize in
this tattered, unkempt wanderer, with ghastly white
face and fierce, wild eyes, the spruce young hunter of
former days. Having, however, at last satisfied him-
self as to his identity, the man's surprise changed to
consternation.

"You are mad to come here," he cried. "It is as
much as my own life is worth to be seen talking with

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 157

you. There is a warrant against you from the Holy
Four for assisting the Ferriers away."

"I don't fear them or their warrant," Hope said,
earnestly. ^^You must know something of this mat-
ter, Cowper. I conjure you by everything you hold
dear to answer a few questions. We have always been
friends. For God's sake, don't refuse to answer me."

"What is it?" the Mormon asked, uneasily. "Be
quick; the very rocks have ears and the trees eyes!"

"What has become of Lucy Ferrier?"

"She was married yesterday to young Drebber.
Hold up, man! hold up! you have no life left in you!"

"Don't mind me," said Hope, faintly. He was
white to the very lips, and had sunk down on the stone
against which he had been leaning. "Married, you
say?"

"Married yesterday — that's what those flags are for
on the Endowment House. There was some words
between young Drebber and young Stangerson as to
which was to have her. They'd both been in the party
that followed them, and Stangerson had shot her
father, which seemed to give him the best claim; but
when they argued it out in council Drebber's party
was the stronger, so the prophet gave her over to him.
1^0 one won't have her very long, though, for I saw
death in her face yesterday. She is more like a ghost
than a woman. Are you off, then?"

"Yes, I'm off," said Jefferson Hope, who had risen
from his seat.

158 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

His face might have been chiseled out of marble, so
hard and so set was its expression, while his eyes
glowed with a baleful light.

^^ Where are you going?"

^'l^ever mind," he answered; and, slinging his
weapon on his shoulder, strode off down the gorge and
so away into the heart of the mountains, to the haunts
of the wild beasts. Among them all there was none
so fierce and so dangerous as himself.

The prediction of the Mormon was only too well ful-
filled. Whether it was the terrible death of her father
or the effects of the hateful marriage into which she
had been forced, poor Lucy never held up her head
again, but pined away and died within a month. Her
sottish husband, who had married her principally for
the sake of John Terrier's property, did not affect any
great grief at his bereavement; but his other wives
mourned over her, and sat up with her the night before
the burial, as is the Mormon custom. They were
grouped round the bier in the early hours of the morn-
ing, when, to their inexpressible fear and astonish-
ment,, the door was flung open, and a savage-looking,
weather-beaten man in tattered garments strode into
the room. Without a glance or a word to the cower-
ing women he walked up to the white, silent figure
which had once contained the pure soul of Lucy Feiv
rier. Stooping over her, he pressed his lips reverently
to her cold forehead, and then, snatching up her hand,
he took the wedding-ring from her finger.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 159

"She shall not be buried in that," he cried, with a
fierce snarl, and before an alarm could be raised sprang
down the stairs and was gone. So strange and so brief
was the episode that the watchers might have found it
hard to believe it themselves or persuade other people
of it, had it not been for the undeniable fact that the
circlet of gold which marked her as having been a
bride had disappeared.

For some months Jefferson Hope lingered among
the mountains, leading a strange, wild life, and nurs-
ing in his heart the fierce desire for vengeance which
possessed him. Tales were told in the city of the
weird figure wliich was seen prowling about the
suburbs, and which haunted the lonely mountain
gorges. Once a bullet whistled through Stanger-
son's window and flattened itself upon the wall wuthin
a foot of him. On another occasion, as Drebber
passed under a cliff, a great bowlder crashed down on
him, and he only escaped a terrible death by throwing
himself upon his face. The two young Mormons
were not long in discovering the reason of these at-
tempts upon their lives, and led repeated expeditions
into the mountains in the hope of capturing or killing
their enemy, but always without success. Then they
adopted the precaution of never going out alone or
after nightfall, and of having their houses guarded.
After a time they were able to relax these measures,
for nothing was either heard or seen of their opponent,
and they hoped that time had cooled his vindictiveness.

160 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

Far from doing so, it had, if anything, augmented
it. The hunter's mind was of a hard, unyielding na-
ture, and the predominant idea of revenge had taken
such complete possession of it that there was no room
for any other emotion. He was, however, above all
things practical. He soon realized that even his iron
constitution could not stand the incessant strain which
he was putting upon it. Exposure and want of whole-
some food were wearing him out. If he died like a
dog among the mountains, what was to become of his
revenge then ? And yet such a death was sure to over-
take him if he persisted. He felt that that was to pla;y
his enemy's game, so he reluctantly returned to the old
Nevada mines, there to recruit his health and to amass
money enough to allow him to pursue his object with-
out privation.

His intention had been to be absent a year at the
most, but a combination of unforeseen circumstances
prevented his leaving the mines for nearly five. At
the end of that time, however, his memory of his
wrongs and his cravings for revenge were quite as keen
as on that memorable night when he had stood by John
Ferrier's grave. Disguised, and under an assumed
name, he returned to Salt Lake City, careless what
became of his own life as long as he obtained what he
knew to be justice. There he found evil tidings
awaiting him. There had been a schism among the
Chosen People a few months before, some of the
younger members of the church having rebelled

A STUDY IN SCARLET. IGl

against the authority of the elders, and the result had
been the secession of a certain number of the malcon-
tents, who had left Utah and become Gentiles.
Among these had been Drebber and Stangerson, and
no one knew whither they had gone. Rumor re-
ported that Drebber had managed to convert a large
part of his property into money, and that he had de-
parted a wealthy man, while his companion, Stanger-
son, was comparatively poor. There was no clue at
all, however, as to their whereabouts.

Many a man, however vindictive, would have aban-
doned all thought of revenge in the face of such a diffi-
culty, but Jefferson Hope never faltered for a moment.
With the small competence he possessed, eked out by
such employment as he could pick up, he traveled
from town to town through the United States in quest
of his enemies. Year passed into year, his black hair
turned to grizzled, but still he wandered on, a human
bloodhound, with his mind wholly set upon the one
object to which he had devoted his life. At last his
perseverance was rewarded. It was but a glance of a
face in a window, but that one glance told him that
Cleveland, in Ohio, possessed the men whom he was in
pursuit of. He returned to his miserable lodgings
with his plan of vengeance all arranged. It chanced,
however, that Drebber, looking from his window, had
recognized the vagrant in the street, and had read mur-
der in his eyes. He hurried before a justice of the
peace, accompanied by Stangerson, who had become

8— Vol 1

162 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

liis private secretary, and represented to him tliat they
were in danger of their lives from the jealousy and
hatred of an old rival.

That evening Jefferson Hope was taken into cus-
tody, and, not being able to find sureties, was detained
for some weeks. When at last he was liberated it was
only to find that Drebber's house was deserted, and
that he and his secretary had departed for Europe.

Again the avenger had been foiled, and again his
concentrated hatred urged him to continue the pursuit.
Funds were wanting, however, and for some time he
had to return to work, saving every dollar for his ap-
proaching journey. At last, having collected enough
to keep life in him, he departed for Europe, and
tracked his enemies from city to city, working his way
in any menial capacity, but never overtaking the fugi-
tives. When he reached St. Petersburg they had de-
parted for Paris ; and when he followed them there he
learned that they had just set off for Copenhagen. At
the Danish capital he was again a few days late, for
they had journeyed on to London, where he at last
snicceeded in running them to earth. As to what oc-
curred there, we cannot do better than quote the old
hunter's own a(^count, as duly recorded in Dr. Wat-
son's journal, to which we are already under such ob-
ligations.

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 103

CHAPTEE YI.

A CONTINUATION OF THE REMINISCENCES OF JOHN H,

WATSON, M. D.

Our prisoner's furious resistance did not apparently
indicate any ferocity in his disposition toward our-
selves, for, on finding himself powerless, he smiled
in an affable manner, and expressed his hopes that he
had not hurt any of us in the scuffle.

"I guess you're going to take me to the police sta-
tion,'' he remarked to Sherlock Holmes. ^'My cab's
at the door; if you'll loose my legs I'll walk down to it.
I'm not so light to lift as I used to be."

Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if they
thought this proposition rather a bold one; but Holmes
at once took the prisoner at his word, and loosened the
towel which he had bound round his ankles. He rose
and stretched his legs, as though to assure himself that
they were free once more. I remember that I
thought to myself, as I eyed him, that I had seldom
seen a more powerfully built man; and his dark, sun-
burned face bore an expression of determination and
energy which was as formidable as his personal
strength.

1G4: A STUDY IN SCARLET.

^'li there's a vacant place for a chief of the police, I
reckon you are the man for it," he said, gazing with
undisguised admiration at my fellow-lodger. "The
way you kept on my trail was a caution."

*^You had better come with me," said Holmes to the
two detectives.

"I can drive you," said Lestrade.

"Good ! and Gregson can come inside with me. You
too, doctor; you have taken an interest in the case, and
may as well stick to us."

I assented gladly, and we all descended together.
Our prisoner made no attempt at escape, but stepped
calmly into the cab which had been his, and we fol-
lowed him. Lestrade mounted the box, whipped up
the horse, and brought us in a very short time to our
destination. We were ushered into a small chamber,
where a police inspector noted down our prisoner's
name and the names of the men with whose murder he
had been charged. The official was a white-faced,
unemotional man, who went through his duties in a
dull, mechanical way. "The prisoner will be put be-
fore the magistrates in the course of the week," he
said ; "in the meantime, Mr. Jefferson Hope, have you
anything that you wish to say ? I must warn you that
your words ^^dll be taken down and may be used against
you."

"IVe got a good deal to say," our prisoner said,
slowly. "I want to tell you gentlemen all about it."

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 165

"Hadn't you better reserve that for your trial?''
asked the inspector.

"I may never be tried," he answered. "You needn't
look startled. It isn't suicide I am thinking of. Are
you a doctor?"

He turned his fierce, dark eyes upon me as he asked
this last question.

"Yes, I am," I answered.

"Then put your hand here," he said, with a smile,
motioning with his manacled wrists toward his chest.

I did so, and became at once conscious of an ex-
traordinary throbbing and commotion which was go-
ing on inside. The walls of his chest seemed to thrill
and quiver as a frail building would do inside when
some powerful engine was at work. In the silence of
the room I could hear a dull humming and buzzing
noise which proceeded from the same source.

"Why," I cried, you have aortic aneurism!"

"That's what they call it," he said, placidly. "I
went to a doctor last week about it, and he told me
that it was bound to burst before many days passed.
It has been getting worse for years. I got it from
over-exposure and underfeeding among the Salt Lake
mountains. I've done my work now, and I don't care
how soon I go, but I should like to leave some account
of the business behind me. I don't want to be re-
membered as a common cut-throat."

The inspector and the two detectives had a hurried

1G6 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

discussion as to tlie advisability of allowing him to tell
his story.

^^Do you consider, doctor, that there is immediate
danger?'' the former asked.

^^Most certainly there is," I answered.

"In that case it is clearly our duty, in the interests
of justice, to take his statement," said the inspector.
"You are at liberty, sir, to give your account, which I
again warn you will be taken down."

"I'll sit down, with your leave," the prisoner said,
suiting the action to the word. "This aneurism of
mine makes me easily tired, and the tussle we had half
an hour ago has not mended matters. I'm on the
brink of the grave, and I am not likely to lie to you.
Every word I say is the absolute truth, and how you
use it is a matter of no consequence to me."

With these words Jefferson Hope leaned back in his
chair and began the following remarkable statement.
He spoke in a calm and methodical manner, as though
the events which he narrated were commonplace
enough. I can vouch for the accuracy of the sub-
joined account, for I have had access to Lestrade's note
book, in which the prisoner's words were taken down
exactly as they were uttered.

"It doesn't matter much to you why I hated these
men," he said; "it's enough that they were guilty of
the death of two human beings — a father and a daugh-
ter— and they had, therefore, forfeited their own lives.
After the lapse of time that has passed since their

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 1G7

crime, it was impossible for me to secure a conviction
against them in any court. .1 knew of their guilt,
though, and I determined that I should be judge, jury,
and executioner all rolled into one. You'd have done
the same, if you have any manhood in you, if you had
been in my place.

"That girl that I spoke of was to have married me
twenty years ago. She was forced into marrying that
same Drebber, and broke her heart over it. I took the
marriage ring from her dead finger, and I vowed that
his dying eyes should rest upon that very ring, and
that his last thought should be of the crime for which
he was punished. I have carried it about with me, and
have followed him and his accomplice over two con-
tinents until I caught them.' They thought to tire
me out, but they could not do it. If I die to-morrow,
as is likely enough, I die knowing that my work in this
world is done, and well done. They have perished,
and by my hand. There is nothing left for me to
hope for or to desire.

^^They were rich and I was poor, so that it was no
easy matter for me to follow them. Wlien I got to
London my pocket was about empty, and I found that
I must turn my hand to something for my living.
Driving and riding are as natural to me as walking, so
I applied at a cab owner's office and soon got employ-
ment. I was to bring a certain sum a week to the
owner, and whatever was over that I might keep for
myself. There was seldom much over, but I man-

168 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

aged to scrape along somehow. The hardest job was
to learn mj way about, for I reckon that of all the
mazes that were ever contrived, this city is the most
confusing. I had a map beside me, though, and when
once I had spotted the principal hotels and stations I
got on pretty well.

"It was some time before I found out where my two
gentlemen were living; but I inquired and inquired
until at last I dropped across them. They were at a
boarding house at Camberwell, over on the other side
of the river. When once I found them out I knew
that I had them at my mercy. I had grown my beard,
and there was no chance of their recognizing me. I
would dog them and follow them until I saw my op-
portunity. I was determined that they should not
escape me again.

"They were very near doing it, for all that. Go
where they would about London, I was always at their
heels. Sometimes I followed them on my cab, and
sometimes on foot, but the former was the best; for
then they could not get away from me. It was only
early in the morning or late at night that I could
earn anything, so that I began to get behindhand with
my employer. I did not mind that, however, as long
as I could lay my hand upon the men I wanted.

"They were very cimning, though. They must
have thought that there was some chance of their be-
ing followed, for they would never go out alone, and
never after nightfall. During two weeks I drove be-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 169

hind them every day, and never once saw them sep-
arate. Drebber himself was drunk half the time, but
Stangerson was not to be caught napping. I watched
them late and early, but never saw the ghost of a
chance ; but I was not discouraged, for something told
me that the hour had almost come. My only fear was
that this thing in my chest might burst a httle too
soon and leave my work undone.

"At last, one evening, I was driving up and down
Torquay Terrace, as the street was called in which they
boarded, when I saw a cab drive up to their door.
Presently some luggage was brought out, and after a
time Drebber and Stangerson followed it and drove
off. I whipped up my horse and kept within sight of
them, feeling ill at ease, for I feared that they were
going to shift their quarters. At Euston Station they
got out, and I left a boy to hold my horse and followed
them on to the platform. I heard them ask for the
Liverpool train, and the guard answer that one had
just gone, and there would not be another for some
hours. Stangerson seemed to be put out at that, but
Drebber was rather pleased than otherwise. I got so
close to them in the bustle that I could hear every
word that passed between them. Drebber said that
he had a little business of his own to do, and that if the
other would wait for him he would soon rejoin him.
His companion remonstrated with him, and reminded
him that they had resolved to stick together. Drebber
answered that the matter was a delicate one, and that

170 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

lie must go alone. I could not catch what Stangerson
said to that, but the other burst out swearing and re-
minded him that he was nothing more than his paid
servant, and that he must not presume to dictate to
him. On that the secretary gave it up as a bad job,
and simply bargained with him that if he missed the
last train he should rejoin him at Halliday's Private
Hotel; to which Drebber answered that he would be
back on the platform before eleven, and made his way
out of the station.

"The moment for which I had waited so long had at
last come. I had my enemies within my power. To-
gether they could protect each other, but singly they
were at my mercy. I did not act, however, with un-
due precipitation. My plans were already formed.
There is no satisfaction in vengeance unless the of-
fender has time to realize who it is that strikes him, and
why retribution had come upon him. I had my plans
arranged by which I should have the opportunity of
making the man who wronged me understand that his
old sin had found him out. It chanced that some days
before a gentleman who had been engaged in looking
over some houses in the Brixton Road had dropped the
key of one of them in my carriage. It was claimed
that same evening and returned ; but in the interval I
had taken a molding of it, and had a duplicate con-
structed. By means of this I had access to at least one
spot in this great city where I could rely upon being
free from interruption. How to get Drebber to that

1 STUDY IN SCARLET. 171

house was the difficult problem which I now had to
solve.

^^He walked down the road and went into one or
two liquor shops, staying for nearly half an hour in
the last of them. When he came out he staggered in
his walk, and was evidently pretty well on. There
was a hansom just in front of me, and he hailed it. I
followed it so close that the nose of my horse was with-
in a yard of his driver the whole way. We rattled
across Waterloo Bridge and through miles of streets,
until, to my astonishment, we found ourselves back in
the terrace in which he had boarded. I could not im-
agine what his intention w^as in returning there, but
I went on and pulled up my cab a hundred yards or so
from the house. He entered it and his hansom drove
away. Give me a glass of water, if you please. My
mouth gets dry with the talking."

I handed him the glass, and he drank it down.

'That's better," he said. ''Well, I waited for a
quarter of an hour or more, when suddenly there came
a noise like people struggling inside the house. Next
moment the door was flung open and two men ap-
peared, one of whom was Drebber, and the other was
a young chap whom I had never seen before. This
fellow had Drebber by the collar, and when they came
to the head of the steps he gave him a shove and a kick
which sent him half across the road. 'You hound!'
he cried, shaking his stick at him, 'I'll teach you to
insult an honest girl!' He was so hot that I think lie

172 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

would have thrashed Drebber with his cudgel only
that the cur staggered away down the road as fast as
his legs would carry him. He ran as far as the cor-
ner, and then, seeing my cab, he hailed me and jumped
in. ^Drive me to Halliday's Private Hotel,' said he.

"When I had him fairly inside my cab my heart
jumped so with joy that I feared lest at this last mo-
ment my aneurism might go wrong. I drove along
slowly, weighing in my own mind what it was best to
do. I might take him right out into the country, and
there in some deserted lane have my last interview
with him. I had almost decided upon this, when he
solved the problem for me„ The craze for drink had
seized him again, and he ordered me to pull up out-
side a gin palace. He went in, leaving word that I
should wait for him. There he remained until clos-
ing time, and when he came out he was so far gone
that I knew the game was in my own hands.

"Don't imagine that I intended to kill him in cold
blood. It would only have been rigid justice if I had
done so, but I could not bring myself to do it. I had
long determined that he should have a show for his life
if he chose to take advantage of it. Among the many
billets which I have filled in America during my wan-
dering life, I was once a janitor and sweeper-out of the
laboratory at York College. One day the professor
was lecturing on poisons, and he showed his students
some alkaloid, as he called it, which he had extracted
from some South American arrow poison, and which

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 173

was so powerful that the least grain meant instant
death. I spotted the bottle in which this preparation
was kept, and when they were all gone I helped myself
to a little of it. I was a fairly good dispenser, so I
worked this alkaloid into small, soluble pills, and each
pill I put in a box with a similar pill made without poi-
son. I determined at the time that, when I had my
chance, my gentlemen should each have a draw out of
one of these boxes, while I eat the pill that remained.
It would be quite as deadly, and a good deal less noisy
than firing across a handkerchief. From that day I
had always my pill boxes about with me, and the time
had now come when I was to use them.

^^It was nearer one than twelve, and a wild, bleak
night, blowing hard and raining in torrents. Dismal
as it was outside, I was glad within — so glad that I
could have shouted out from pure exultation. If any
of you gentlemen have ever pined for a thing and
longed for it during twenty long years, and then sud-
denly found it within your reach, you would under-
stand my feelings. I lighted a cigar and puffed at it
to steady my nerves, but my hands were trembling,
and my temples throbbing with excitement. As I
drove I could see old John Ferrier and sweet Lucy
looking at me out of the darkness and smiling at me,
just as plain as I see you all in this room. All the way
they were ahead of me, one on each side of the horse,
until I pulled up at the house in the Brixton Road.

^^There was not a soul to be seen, nor a sound to be

174 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

heard, except the dripping of the rain. When I
looked in at the window I found Drebber all huddled
together in a drunl^en sleep. I shook him by the
arm: 'It's time to go out/ I said.

'All right, cabby,' said he.
'I suppose he thought we had come to the hotel that
he had mentioned, for he got out without another word
and f ollow^ed me down the garden. I had to walk be-
side him to keep him steady, for he was still a little top-
heavy. When we came to the door I opened it and
led him into the front room. I give you my word that,
all the way, the father and daughter were walking in
front of us.

'It's infernally dark,' said he, stamping about.

'We'll soon have a light,' I said, striking a match
and putting it to a wax candle which I had brought
with me. ^Now, Enoch Drebber,' I continued, turn-
ing to him and holding the light to my own face, 'Who
am IV

"He gazed at me with bleared, drunken eyes for a
moment, and then I saw a horror spring up in them
and convulse his whole features, which showed me that
he knew me. He staggered back with a livid face, and
I saw the perspiration break out upon his brow, while
his teeth chattered. At the sight I leaned my back
against the door and laughed loud and long. I had
always known that vengeance would be sweet, but had
never hoped for the contentment of soul which now
possessed me.

a r
ii r

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 175

" ^You dog!' I said, ^I have hunted you from Salt
Lake City to St. Petersburg, and you have always es-
caped me. Now at last your wanderings have come
to an end, for either you or I shall never see to-mor-
row's sun rise.' He shrunk still further away as I
spoke, and I could see on his face that he thought I was
mad. So I was, for the time. The pulses in my tem-
ples beat like sledge-hammers, and I believe I would
have had a fit of some sort if the blood had not gushed
from my nose and relieved me.

" ^ What do you think of Lucy Ferrier now V I cried,
locking the door and shaking the key in his face.
^Punishment has been slow in coming, but it has over-
taken you at last.' I saw his coward lips tremble as I
spoke. He would have begged for his life, but he
knew well that it was useless.

^' ^ould you murder me?' he stammered.

" 'There is no murder,' I answered. 'Who talks of
murdering a mad dog? "VVTiat mercy had you upon
my poor darling when you dragged her from her
slaughtered father and bore her away to your accursed
and shameless harem?'

" 'It was not I who killed her father,' he cried.

" 'But it was you who broke her innocent heart,' I
shrieked, thrusting the box before him. 'Let the high
God judge between us. Choose and eat. There Is
death in one and life in the other. I shall take what
you leave. Let us see if there is justice upon the
earth, or if we are ruled by chance.'

176 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

"He cowered away with wild cries and prayers for
mercy, but I drew my knife and held it to his throat
until he had obeyed me. Then I swallowed the other,
and we stood facing each other in silence for a minute
or more, waiting to see which was to live and which
was to die. Shall 1 ever forget the look which came
over his face when the first warning pangs told him
that the poison was in his system? I laughed as I saw
it, and held Lucy's marriage-ring in front of his eyes.
It was but for a moment, for the action of the alkaloid
is rapid. A spasm of pain contorted his features; he
threw his hands out in front of him, staggered, and
then, with a hoarse cry, fell heavily upon the floor. I
turned him over with my foot and placed my hand
upon his heart. There was no movement. He was
dead!

"The blood had been streaming from my nose, but I
had taken no notice of it. I don't know what it was
that put it into my head to write upon the wall with it.
Perhaps it was some mischievous idea of setting the
police upon a wrong track, for I felt light-hearted and
cheerful. I remembered a German being found in
!N"ew York with ^Rache' written up above him, and it
was argued at the time in the newspapers that the
secret societies must have done it. I guessed that
what puzzled the New Yorkers would puzzle the Lon-
doners, so I dipped my finger in my own blood and
printed it on a convenient place on the wall. Then I
walked dovm to my cab and found that there was no-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 177

body about, and tbat the night was still very wild. I
bad driven some distance, when I put my hand into
the pocket in which I usually kept Lucy's ring, and
found that it was not there. I was thunder-struck at
this, for it was the only memento that I had of her.
Thinking that I might have dropped it when I stooped
over Drebber's body, I drove back, and leaving my cab
in a side street, I went boldly up to the house — for I
was ready to dare anything rather than lose the ring.
When I arrived there I walked right into the arms of a
police officer who was coming out, and only managed
to disarm his suspicions by pretending to be hopelessly
dnink.

"That was how Enoch Drebber came to his end.
All I had to do then was to do as much for Stangerson,
and so pay off John Ferrier's debt. I knew that he
was staying at Halliday's Private Hotel, and I hung
about all day, but he never came out. I fancy that he
suspected something when Drebber failed to put in an
appearance. He was cunning, was Stangerson, and al-
ways on his guard. If he thought he could keep me
off by staying in-doors he was very much mistaken.
I soon found out which was the window of his bed-
room, and early next morning I took advantage of
pome ladders which were lying in the lane behind the
hotel, and so made my way into his room in the gray
of the da^vn. I woke him up, and told him that the
hour had come when he was to answer for the life he
had taken so long before. I described Drebber's

ITS A STUDY IN SCARLET.

death to liim, and I gave him the same choice of the
poisoned pills. Instead of grasping at the chance of
safety which that offered him, he sprang from his bed
and flew at my throat. In self-defence I stabbed him
to the heart. It would have been the same in any
case, for Providence would never have allowed his
guilty hand to pick out anything but the poison.

^'I have little more to say, and it's as well, for I am
about done up. I went on cabbing it for a day or so,
intending to keep at it until I could save enough to
take me back to America. I was standing in the yard
when a ragged youngster asked if there was a cabby
there called Jefferson Hope, and said that his cab was
w^anted by a gentleman at 22 IB Baker Street. I went
round, suspecting no harm, and the next thing I knew
this young man here had the bracelets on my wrists,
and as neatly shackled as ever I was in my life.
That's the whole of my story, gentlemen. You may
consider me to be a murderer, but I hold that I am just
as much an officer of justice as you are."

So thrilling had the man's narrative been, and his
manner was so impressive, that we had sat silent and
absorbed. Even the professional detectives, blase as
they were in every detail of crime, appeared to be
keenly interested in the man's story. When he fin-
ished we sat for some minutes in a stillness which was
only broken by the scratching of Lestrade's pencil as
he gave the finishing touches to his short-hand account.

^There is only one point on which I should like a lit-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 179

tie more information/'- Sherlock Holmes said at last.
^^Who was your accomplice who came for the ring
which I advertised ?"

The pnsoner winked at my friend jocosely.

"I can tell my own secrets/' he said, "but I don't
get other people into trouble. I saw your advertise-
ment, and I thought it might be a plant, or it might
be the ring I wanted. My friend volunteered to go
and see. I think you'll own he did it smartly."

"Not a doubt of that," said Holmes, heartily.

"Kow, gentlemen," the inq^ector remarked, grave-
ly, "the forms of the law must be complied with. On
Thursday the prisoner will be brought before the mag-
istrates, and your attendance will be required. Until
then I will be responsible for him."

He rang the bell as he spoke, and Jefferson Hope
■was led off by a couple of warders, while my friend and
I made our way out of the station and took a cab back
to Baker Street.

180 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

CHAPTEK VII.

THE CONCLUSION.

We had all been warned to appear before the mag-
istrates upon the Thursday; but when the Thursday
came there was no occasion for our testimony. A
higher Judge had taken the matter in hand, and Jef-
ferson Hope had been summoned before a tribunal
where strict justice would be meted out to him. On
the very night after his capture the aneurism burst,
and he was found in the morning stretched upon the
floor of his cell, with a placid smile upon his face, as
though he had been able in his dying moments to look
back upon a useful life and on work, well done.

"Gregson and Lestrade will be wild about his
death," Holmes remarked, as we chatted over it next
evening. ^^Where will their grand advertisement be
now?"

"I don't see that they had very much to do with his
capture," I answered.

"What you do in this world is a matter of no con-
sequence," returned my companion, bitterly. "The
question is, what can you make people believe that

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 181

you have done. "Never mind," he continued, more
brightly, after a pause, "I would not have missed the
investigation for anything. There has been no better
case within my recollection. Simple as it was, there
were several most instructive points about it.''

"Simple!" I ejaculated.

"Well, really, it can hardly be described as other-
wise," said Sherlock Holmes, smiling at my surprise.
"The proof of its intrinsic simplicity is that without
any help, save a few very ordinary deductions, I was
able to lay my hand upon the criminal within three
days."

"That is true," said I.

"I have already explained to you that what is out
of the common is usually a guide rather than a hin-
drance. In solving a problem of this sort, the grand
thing is to be able to reason backward. That is a very
useful accomplishment and a very easy one, but peo-
ple do not practise it much. In the e very-day affairs
of life it is more useful to reason forward, and so the
other comes to be neglected. There are fifty who can
reason synthetically for one who can reason analytic-
ally."

"I confess," said I, "that I do not quite follow you."

"I hardly expected that you would. Let me see if
I can make it clear. Most people, if you describe a
train of events to them, will tell you what the result
would be. They can put those events together in their
minds, and argue from them that something will come

182 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

to pass. There are few people, however, who, if you
told them a result, would be able to evolve from their
own inner consciousness what the steps were which led
up to that result. This power is what I mean when I
talk of reasoning backward, or analvtically."

^^I understand,'' said I.

^^!N^ow, this was a case in which you were given the
result, and had to find everything else for yourself.
'NoWy let me endeavor to show you the different steps
in my reasoning. To begin at the beginning. I ap-
proached the house, as you know, on foot, and with my
mind entirely free from all impressions. I naturally
began by examining the roadway, and there, as I have
already explained to you, I saw clearly the marks of a
cab, which, I ascertained by inquiry, must have been
there during the night. I satisfied myself that it was
a cab, and not a private carriage, by the narrow gauge
of the wheels. The ordinary London growler is con-
siderably less wide than a gentleman's brougham.

"This was the first point gained. I then walked
slowly down the garden path, which happened to be
composed of a clay soil, peculiarly suitable for taking
impressions. E'o doubt it appeared to you to be a
mere trampled line of slush, but to my trained eyes
every mark upon its surface had a meaning. There
is no branch of detective science which is so important
and so much neglected as the art of tracing footsteps.
Happily, I have always laid great stress upon it, and
much practice has made it second nature to me. I

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 133

saw the heavy foot-marks of the constables, but I saw
also the tracks of the two men who had first passed
through the garden. It was easy to tell that they had
been before the others, because in places their marks
had been entirely obliterated by the others coming
upon the top of them. In this way my second link
was formed, which told me that the nocturnal visitors
were two in number, one remarkable for his height
(as I calculated from the length of his stride), and the
other fashionably dressed, to judge from the small and
elegant impression left by his boots.

"On entering the house this last inference was con-
firmed. My well-booted man lay before me. The
tall one, then, had done the murder, if murder there
was. There was no wound upon the dead man's per-
son, but the agitated expression upon his face assured
me that he had foreseen his fate before it came upon
him. Men who die from heart disease or any sudden
natural cause never by any chance exhibit agitation
upon their features. Having sniffed the dead man's
lips, I detected a slightly sour smell, and I came to the
conclusion that he had had poison forced upon him.
Again, I argued that it had been forced upon him from
the hatred and fear expressed upon his face. By the
method of exclusion I had arrived at this result, for no
other hypothesis would meet the facts. Do not im-
agine that it was a very unheard-of idea. The forci-
ble administration of poison is by no means a new
thing in criminal annals. The cases of Dolsky, in

184 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

Odessa, and of Leturier, in Montpellier, will occur at
once to any toxicologist.

"And now came the great question as to the reason
why. Robbery had not been the object of the mur-
der, for nothing was taken. Was it politics, then, or
was it a woman? That was the question which con-
fronted me. I was inclined from the first to the latter
supposition. Political assassins are only too glad to
do their work and to fly. This murder had, on the
contrary, been done most deliberately, and the perpe-
trator had left his tracks all over the room, showing
that he had been there all the time. It must have
been a private wrong, and not a political one, which
called for such a methodical revenge. When the in-
scription was discovered upon the wall I was more in-
clined than ever to nay opinion. The thing was too
evidently a blind. When the ring was found, how-
ever, it settled the question. Clearly the murderer
had used it to remind his victim of some dead or ab-
sent woman. It was at this point that I asked Greg-
son whether he had inquired in his telegram to Cleve-
land as to any particular point in Mr. Drebber's for-
mer career. He answered, you remember, in the
negative.

"I then proceeded to make a careful examination of
the room, which confirmed me in my opinion as to the
murderer's height, and furnished me with the addi-
tional detail as to the Trichinopoly cigar and the
length of his nails. I had already come to the con-

A STUDY IN SCARLET. 185

elusion, since there were no signs of a struggle, that
the blood which covered the floor had burst from the
murderer's nose in his excitement. I could perceive
that the track of blood coincided with the track of his
feet. It is seldom that any man, unless he is very
full-blooded, breaks oiit in this way through emotion,
so I hazarded the opinion that the criminal was prob-
ably a robust and ruddy-faced man. Events proved
that I had judged correctly.

"Having left the house, I proceeded to do what
Gregson had neglected. I telegraphed to the head of
the police at Cleveland, limiting my inquiry to the
circumstances connected with the marriage of Enoch
Drebber. The answer was conclusive. It told me
that Drebber had already applied for the protection
of the law against an old rival in love, named Jefferson
Hope, and that this same Hope was at present in Eu-
rope. I knew now that I held the clue to the mystery
in my hand, and all that remained was to secure the
murderer.

"I had already determined in my own mind that the
man who had walked into the house with Drebber was
none other than the man who had driven the cab. The
marks in the road showed me that the horse had wan-
dered on in a way which would have been impossible
had there been any one in charge of it. Where, then,
could the driver be, unless he were inside the house?
Again, it is absurd to suppose that any sane man would
carry out a deliberate crime under the very eyes, as it

9— Vol. 1

186 A STUDY IN SCARLET,

were, of a third person, who was sure to betray him.
Lastly, supposing one man wished to dog another
through London, what better means could he adopt
than to turn cab driver? All these considerations led
me to the irresistible conclusion that Jefferson Hope
was to be found among the jarveys of the metropolis.

''If he had been one there was no reason to believe
that he had ceased to be. On the contrary, from his
point of view, any sudden change would be likely to
draw attention to himself. He would probably,
for a time at least, continue to perform his duties.
There was no reason to suppose that he was going un-
der an assumed name. Why should he change his
name in a country where no one knew his original one ?
I therefore organized my street-arab detective corps,
and sent them systematically to every cab proprietor
in London until they ferreted out the man that I
wanted. How well they succeeded, and how quickly
I took advantage of it, are still fresh in your recollec-
tion. The murder of Stangerson was an incident
which was entirely unexpected, but which could
hardly in any case have been prevented. Through it,
as you know, I came into possession of the pills, the
existence of which I had already surmised. You see,
the whole thing is a chain of logical sequences without
a break or flaw.''

"It is wonderful!" I cried. "Your merits should
be publicly recognized. You should publish an ac-
count of the case. If you won't, I will for you."

A 8TUD7 IN SCARLET. 187

"You may do what you like, doctor," he answered.
"See here!" he continued, handing a paper over to
me; "look at this!"

It was the "Echo" for the day, and the paragraph to
which he pointed was devoted to the case in question.

"The public," it said, "have lost a sensational treat
through the sudden death of the man Hope, who was
suspected of the murder of Mr. Enoch Drebber and of
Mr. Joseph Stangerson. The details of the case will
probably never be known now, though we are informed
upon good authority that the crime was the result of
an old-standing and romantic feud, in which love and
Mormonism bore a part. It seems that both the vic-
tims belonged, in their younger days, to the Latter-
Day Saints, and Hope, the deceased prisoner, hails also
from Salt Lake City. If the case has had no other
effect, it at least brings out in the most striking man-
ner the efficiency of our detective police force, and will
serve as a lesson to all foreigners that they will do
wisely to settle their feuds at home, and not to carry
them on to British soil. It is an open secret that the
credit of this smart capture belongs entirely to the
well-known Scotland Yard officials, Messrs. Lestrade
and Gregson. The man was apprehended, it appears,
in the rooms of a certain Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who
has himself, as an amateur, shown some talent in the
detective line, and who, with such instructors, may
hope in time to attain to some degree of their skill.
It is expected that a testimonial of some sort will be

188 A STUDY IN SCARLET.

presented to the two officers as a fitting recognition of
their services."

^'Didn't I tell you so when we started?" cried Sher-
lock Holmes, with a laugh. "That's the result of all
our Study in Scarlet — to get them a testimonial."

"Never mind," I answered; "I have all the facts in
my journal, and the public shall know them. In the
meantime you must make yourself contented by the
consciousness of success, like the Roman miser —

*' 'Popnlus me sibilat, at mihi plando

Ipse domi simu) aa nuinmos contemplar in area.' '*

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

I.

To Sherlock Holmes she is always the woman. I
have seldom heard him mention her under any
other name. In his eyes she eclipses and pre-
dominates the whole of her sex. It was not that
he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler.
All emotions, and that one particularly, were ab-
horrent to his cold, precise but admirably bal-
anced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect
reasoning and observing machine that the world
has seen ; but as a lover, he would have placed
himself in a false position. He never spoke of
the softer passions, save with a gibe and a sneer.
They were admirable things for the observer —
excellent for drawing the veil from men's motives
and actions. But for the trained reasoner to admit
such intrusions into his own delicate and finely ad-
justed temperament was to introduce a distracting
factor which might throw a doubt upon all his
mental results. Grit in a sensitive instrument, or
a crack in one of his own high-power lenses, would
not be more disturbing than a strong emotion in a

189

190 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

nature such as his. And yet there was but one
woman to him, and that woman was the late Irene
Adler, of dubious and questionable memory.

I had seen little of Holmes lately. My mar-
riage had drifted us away from each other. My
own complete happiness, and the home-centered
interests which rise up around the man who first
Snds himself master of his own establishment, were
sufficient to absorb all my attention ; while Holmes,
who loathed every form of society with his whole
Bohemian soul, remained in our lodgings in Baker
Street, buried among his old books, and alternating
from week to week between cocaine and ambition,
the drowsiness of the drug, and the fierce energy of
his own keen nature. He was still, as ever, deeply
attracted by the study of crime, and occupied his
immense faculties and extraordinary powers of
observation in following out those clews, and clear-
ing up those mysteries, which had been abandoned
as hopeless by the official police. From time to
time I heard some vague account of his doings ; of
his summons to Odessa in the case of the Trepoff
murder, of his clearing up of the singular tragedy
of the Atkinson brothers at Trincomalee, and finally
of the mission which he had accomplished so del-
icately and successfully for the reigning family of
Holland. Beyond these signs of his activity, how-
ever, which I merely shared with all the readers
of the daily press, I knew little of my former friend
and companion.

One night— it was on the 20th of March, 1888
—1 was returning from a journey to a patient (for

A 8GA-NDAL IN BOHEMIA. 19;[

I had now returned to civil practise), when my way
led me through Baker Street. As I passed the
well-remembered door, which must always be asso-
ciated in my mind with my wooing, and with the
dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized
with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to
know how he was employing his extraordinary
powers. His rooms were brilliantly lighted, and
even as I looked up, I saw his tall spare figure pass
twice in a dark silhouette against the blind. He
was pacing the room swiftly, eagerly, with his head
sunk upon his chest, and his hands clasped behind
him. To me, who knew his every mood and habit,
his attitude and manner told their own story. He
was at work again. He had risen out of his drug-
created dreams, and was hot upon the scent of some
new problem. I rang the bell, and was shown up
to the chamber which had formerly been in part
my own.

His manner was not effusive. It seldom was ;
but he was glad, I think, to see me. With hardly
a word spoken, but with a kindly eye, he waved
me to an armchair, threw across his case of cigars,
and indicated a spirit case and a gasogene in the
corner. Then he stood before the fire, and looked
me over in his singular introspective fashion.

" Wedlock suits you," he remarked. " I think,
Watson, that you have put on seven and a half
pounds since I saw you."

*' Seven," 1 answered.

" Indeed, I should have thought a little more.
Just a trifle more, I fancy, Watson. And in prac-

192 ^ SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

tise again, I observe. You did not tell me that you
intended to go into harness."

" Then how do you know ? "

*' I see it, I deduce it. How do I know that you
have been getting yourself very wet lately, and that
you have a most clumsy and careless servant-girl ? '^

" My dear Holmes," said I, " this is too much.
You would certainly have been burned had you
lived a few centuries ago. It is true that I had a
country walk on Thursday and came home in a
dreadful mess ; but as I have changed my clothes,
I can't imagine how you deduce it. As to Mary
Jane, she is incorrigible, and my wife has given her
notice ; but there again I fail to see how you work
it out."

He chuckled to himself and rubbed his long, nerv-
ous hands together.

" It is simplicity itself," said he ; " my eyes tell
me that on the inside of your left shoe, just where
the fire-light strikes it, the leather is scored by six
almost parallel cuts. Obviously they have been
caused by some one who has very carelessly scraped
round the edges of the sole in order to remove crusted
mud from it. Hence, you see, my double deduction
that you had been out in vile weather, and that you
had a particularly malignant boot-slicking specimen
of the London slavey. As to your practise, if a
gentleman walks into my rooms, smelling of iodo-
form, with a black mark of nitrate of silver upon
his right forefinger, and a bulge on the side of his
top-hat to show where he has secreted his stetho-
scope, I must be dull indeed if I do not pronounce

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 193

him to be an active member of the medical profes-
sion."

I could not help laughing at the ease with which
he explained his process of deduction. ^' When I
hear you give your reasons," I remarked, " the thing
always appears to me so ridiculously simple that I
could easily do it myself, though at each successive
instance of your reasoning I am baffled, until you
explain your process. And yet, I believe that my
eyes are as good as yours."

" Quite so," he answered, lighting a cigarette, and
throwing himself down into an armchair. " You
see, but you do not observe. The distinction is clear.
For example, you have frequently seen the steps
which lead up from the hall to this room."

" Frequently."

" How often ? "

" Well, some hundreds of times."

" Then how many are there ? "

" How manv ? I don't know."

" Quite so ! You have not observed. And yet
you have seen. That is just my point. Now, I
know there are seventeen steps, because I have both
seen and observed. By the way, since you are in-
terested in these little problems, and since you are
good enough to chronicle one or two of my trifling
experiences, you may be interested in this." He
threw over a sheet of thick pink-tinted note-paper
which had been lying open upon the table. " It
came by the last post," said he. " Read it aloud."

The note was undated, and without either signa-
ture or address.

19-i A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

ft

" There will call upon you to-night, at a quarter
to eight o'clock," it said, *' a gentleman who desires
to consult you upon a matter of the very deepest
moment. Your recent services to one of the royal
houses of Europe have shown that you are one who
may safely be trusted with matters which are of an
importance which can hardly be exaggerated.
This account of you we have from all quarters
received. Be in your chamber, then, at that hour,
and do not take it amiss if your visitor wears a
mask."

" This is indeed a mystery," I remarked. *' What
do you imagine that it means ? "

" I have no data yet. It is a capital mistake to
theorize before one has data. Insensibly one begins
to twist facts to suit theories, instead of theories to
suit facts. But the note itself — what do you deduce
from it ? "

I carefully examined the writing, and the paper
upon which it was written.

" The man who wrote it was presumably well to
do," I remarked, endeavoring to imitate my com-
panion's processes. " Such paper could not be
bought under half a crown a packet. It is peculiarly
strong and stiff."

" Peculiar — that is the very word," said Holmes.
" It is not an English paper at all. Hold it up to
the light.'"

I did so, and saw a large ^ with a small g, sl P
and a large G with a small t woven into the texture
of the paper.

" What do you make of that ? " asked Holmes.

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 195

" The name of the maker, no doubt ; or his
monogram, rather."

" Not at all. The G with the small t stands for
* Gesellschaft,' which is the German for ' Company.'
It is a customary contraction like our ' Co.' P, of
course, stands for * Papier.' Now for the Eg. Let
us fflance at our ' Continental Gazetteer.' " He
took down a heavy brown volume from his shelves.
" Eglow, Eglonitz — here we are, Egria. It is in a
German-speaking country — in Bohemia, not far from
Carlsbad. ' Remarkable as being the scene of the
death of Wallenstein, and for its numerous glass
factories and paper mills.' Ha ! ha ! my boy, what
do you make of that ? " His eyes sparkled, and he
sent up a great blue triumphant cloud from his cigar-
ette.

" The paper was make in Bohemia," I said.

" Precisely. And the man who wrote the note
is a German. Do you note the peculiar construc-
tion of the sentence — ' This account of you we have
from all quarters received ? ' A Frenchman or
Russian could not have written that. It is the
German who is souncourteous to his verbs. It only
remains, therefore, to discover what is wanted by
this German who writes upon Bohemian paper,
and prefers wearing a mask to showing his face.
And here he comes, if I am not mistaken, to resolve
all our doubts."

As he spoke there was the sharp sound of horses'
hoofs and grating wheels against the ciirb followed
"by a sharp pull at the bell. Holmes whistled.

" A pair, by the sound," said he. " Yes," he con-

196 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

tinned, glancing out of the window. " A nice little
brougham and a pair of beauties. A hundred and
tifty guineas apiece. There's money in this case,
Watson, if there is nothing else."

" I think I had better go. Holmes."

" Not a bit, doctor. Stay where you are. I am
lost without my Boswell. And this promises to be
interesting. It would be a pity to miss it."

" But your client — "

" Never mind him. I may want your help, and
so may he. Here he comes. Sit down in that arm-
chair, doctor, and give us your best attention."

A slow and heavy step, which had been heard
upon the stairs and in the passage, paused imme-
diately outside the door. Then there was a loud
and authoritative tap.

" Come in ! " said Holmes.

A man entered who could hardly have been less
than six feet six inches in height, with the chest
and limbs of a Hercules. His dress was rich with a
richness which would, in England, be looked upon as
akin to bad taste. Heavy bands of astrakhan were
slashed across the sleeves and front of his double-
breasted coat, while the deep blue cloak which was
thrown over his shoulders was lined with flame-
colored silk, and secured at the neck with a brooch
which consisted of a single flaming beryl. Boots
which extended half-way up his calves, and which
were trimmed at the tops with rich brown fur, com-
pleted the impression of barbaric opulence which
was suggested by his whole appearance. He car-
ried a broad-brimmed hat in his hand, while he wore

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 197

across the upper part of his face, extending down
past the cheek-bones, a black visard-mask, which
he had apparently adjusted that very moment, for
his hand was still raised to it as he entered. From
the lower part of the face he appeared to be a man
of strong character, with a thick, hanging lip, and a
long, straight chin, suggestive of resolution pushed
to the length of obstinacy.

''You had may note?" he asked, with a deep,
harsh voice and a strongly marked German accent.
" I told you that I would call." He looked from
one to the other of us, as if uncertain which to ad-
dress.

" Pray take a seat," said Holmes. " This is my
friend and colleague, Doctor Watson, who is oc-
casionally good enough to help me in my cases.
Whom have I the honor to address ? "

" You may address me as the Count von Kramm,
a Bohemian nobleman. I understand that this
gentleman, your friend, is a man of honor and
discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the
most extreme importance. If not, I should much
prefer to communicate with you alone."

I rose to go, but Holmes caught me by the wrist
and pushed me back into my chair. " It is both, or
none," said he. " You may say before this gentle-
man anything which you may say to me."

The count shrugged his broad shoulders. " Then
I must begin," said he, " by binding you both to
absolute secrecy for two years, at the end of that
time the matter will be of no importance. At pres.
ent it is not too much to say that it is of such weight

198 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

that it may have an influence upon European his-
tory."

'' I promise," said Holmes.

« And I."

" You will excuse this mask," continued our
strange visitor. " The august person who employs
me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I
may confess at once that the title by which I have
just called myself is not exactly m}" own."

" I was aware of it," said Holmes, dryly.

"The circumstances are of great delicacy, and
every precaution has to be taken to quench what
might grow to be an immense scandal, and seriously
compromise one of the reigning families of Europe.
To speak plainly, the matter implicates the great
House of Ormstein, hereditary kings of Bohemia."

" I was also aware of that," murmured Holmes,
settling himself down in his armchair, and closing
his eyes.

Our visitor glanced with some apparent surprise
at the languid, lounging figure of the man who had
been, no doubt, depicted to him as the most incisive
reasoner and most energetic agent in Europe.
Holmes slowly reopened his eyes and looked im-
patiently at his gigantic client.

" If your majesty would condescend to state your
case," he remarked, " I should be better able to ad-
vise you."

The man sprung from his chair, and paced up and
down the room in uncontrollable agitation. Then,
with a gesture of desperation, he tore the mask
from his face and hurled it upon the ground.

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 199

" You are right," be cried, " 1 am tiie king. Why
should I attempt to conceal it ? "

" Why, indeed ? " murmured Holmes. " Your
majesty had not spoken before I was aware that I
was addressing Wilhelm Gottsreich Sigismond von
Ormstein, Grand Duke of Cassel-Felstein, and hered-
itary King of Bohemia."

" But you can understand," said our strange
visitor, sitting down once more and passing his
hand over his high, white forehead, " you can under-
stand that I am not accustomed to doing such busi-
ness in my own person. Yet the matter was so
delicate that I could not confide it to an agent with-
out putting myself in his power. I have come in-
cognito from Prague for the purpose of consulting

vou."

" Then, pray consult," said Holmes, shutting his
eyes once more.

" The facts are briefly these : Some five years
ago, during a lengthy visit to Warsaw, I made the
acquaintance of the well-known adventuress Irene
Adler. The name is no doubt familiar to you."

" Kindly look her up in my index, doctor," mur-
mured Holmes, without opening his eyes. For
many years he had adopted a system for docketing
all paragraphs concerning men and things, so that
it was difficult to name a subject or a person on
which he could not at once furnish information. In
this case I found her biography sandwiched in be-
tween that of a Hebrew rabbi and that of a staff-
commander who had written a monogram upon the
deep-sea fishes.

200 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA,

" Let me see ! " said Holmes. " Hum ! Born in
New Jersey in the year 1858. Contralto— hum !
La Scala — hum! Prima-donna Imperial Opera of
Warsaw — yes ! Retired from operatic stage — ha !
Living in London — quite so ! Your majesty, as I
understand, became entangled with this young per-
son, wrote her some compromising letters, and is
now desirous of getting those letters back."

" Precisely so. But how — "

" Was there a secret marriage ? "

"None."

" No legal papers or certificates ? "

" None."

"Then I fail to follow your majesty. If this
young person should produce her letters for black-
mailing or other purposes, how is she to prove their
authenticity ? "

" There is the writing."

" Pooh, pooh ! Forgery."

" My private note-paper."

" Stolen."

" My own seal."

« Imitated.^'

'• My photograph."

" Bought."

" We were both in the photograph."

'•Oh, dear! That is very bad. Your majesty
has indeed committed an indiscretion."

" I was mad — insane."

" You have compromised yourself seriously."

" I was only crown prince then. I was young.
I am but thirty now."

A SCAl^DAL IN BOHEMIA. 201

" It must be recovered."

" We have tried and failed."

" Your majesty must pay. It must be bought."

" She will not sell."

" Stolen, then."

" Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars
in my pay ransacked her house. Once we diverted
her luggage when she traveled. Twice she has been
waylaid. There has been no result."

"No.signof it?"

"Absolutely none."

Holmes laughed. " It is quite a pretty little prob-
lem," said he.

" But a very serious one to me," returned the king,
reproachfully.

u Very, indeed. And what does she propose to
do with the photograph ? "

" To ruin me."

" But how ? "

" I am about to be married."

" So I have heard."

" To Clotilde Lothman von Saxe-Meiningen, second
daughter of the King of Scandinavia. You may
know the strict principles of her family. She is
herself the very soul of delicacy. A shadow of a
doubt as to my conduct would bring the matter to
an end."

*'And Irene Adler?"

" Threatens to send them the photograph. And
she will do it. I know that she will do it. You do
not know her, but she has a soul of steel. She has
the face of the most beautiful of women and the

202 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

mind of the most resolute of men. Rather than I
should marry another woman, there are no lengths
to which she "^ould not go — none.''

" You are sure that she has not sent it yet ? "

" I am sure."

" And why ? "

" Because she has said that she would send it on
the day when the betrothal was publicly proclaimed.
That will be next Monday."

" Oh, then we have three days yet," said Holmes,
with a yawn. " That is very fortunate, as I have
one or two matters of importance to look into just
at present. Your majesty will, of course, stay in
London for the present ? "

" Certainly. You will find me at the Langham,
under the name of the Count von Kramm."

" Then I shall drop you a line to let you know
how we progress."

'• Pray do so ; I shall be all anxiety."

" Then, as to money ? "

" You have carte blanche. ^^

" Absolutely ? "

" I tell you that I would give one of the provinces
of my kingdom to have that photograph."

" And for present expenses ? "

The king took a heavy chamois leather bag from
under his cloak, and laid it on the table.

*' There are three hundred pounds in gold, and
seven hundred in notes," he said.

Holmes scribbled a receipt upon a sheet of his note-
book, and handed it to him.

" And mademoiselle's address ? " he asked.

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 203

" Is Briony Lodge, Serpentine Avenue, St. John's
Wood."

Holmes took a note of it. " One other question,"
said he, thoughtfully. " Was the photograph a cab-
inet ? "

" It was."

" Then, good night, your majesty, and I trust that
we shall soon have some good news for you. And
good night, Watson," he added, as the wheels of the
royal brougham rolled down the street. " If you
will be good enough to call to-morrow afternoon, at
three o'clock, I should like to chat this little matter
over with you."

204 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

11.

At three o'clock precisely I was at Baker Street,
but Holmes had not yet returned. The landlady in-
formed me that he had left the house shortly after
eight o'clock in the morning. I sat down beside the
fire, however, with the intention of awaiting him,
however long he might be. I was already deeply in-
terested in his inquiry, for, though it was surrounded
by none of the grim and strange features which were
associated with the two crimes which I have already
recorded, still, the nature of the case and the exalted
station of his client gave it a character of its own.
Indeed, apart from the nature of the investigation
which my friend had on hand, there was something
in his masterly grasp of a situation, and his keen, in-
cisive reasoning, which made it a pleasure to me to
study his system of work, and to follow the quick,
subtle methods by which he disentangled the most
inextricable mysteries. So accustomed was I to his
invariable success that the very possibility of his fail-
ing had ceased to enter into my head.

It was close upon four before the door opened, and
a drunken-looking groom, ill-kempt and side-whisk-
ered, with an inflamed face and disreputable clothes,
walked into the room. Accustomed as I was to my
friend's amazing powers in the use of disguises, I had
to look three times before I was certain that it was

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 205

indeed he. With a nod he v^anished into the bed-
room, "whence he emerged in five minutes tweed-
suited and respectable, as of old. Putting his hand
into his pockets, he stretched out his legs in front of
the fire, and laughed heartily for some' minutes.

"Well, really!" he cried, and then he choked,
and laughed again until he was obliged to lie back,
limp and helpless, in the chair.

" What is it ? "

" It's quite too funny. I am sure you could never
guess how 1 employed my morning, or what I ended
by doing."

" I can't imagine. I suppose that you have been
watching the habits, and, perhaps, the house of Miss
Irene Adler."

" Quite so, but the sequel ^vas rather unusual. I
will tell you, however. I left the house a little after
eight o'clock this morning in the character of a
groom out of work. There is a wonderful sympathy
and freemasonry among horsy men. Be one of them,
and you will know all that there is to know. I soon
found Briony Lodge. It is a bijou villa, with a
garden at the back, but built out in front right up
to the road, two stories. Chubb lock to the door.
Large sitting-room on the right side, well furnished,
w^ith long windows almost to the floor, and those
preposterous English window-fasteners w^hich a child
could open. Behind there was nothing remarkable,
save that the passage window could be reached from
the top of the coach-house. I Avalked round it and
examined it closely from every point of view, but
without noting anything else of interest.

206 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

" I then lounged down the street, and found, as I
expected, that there was a mews in a lane which
runs down by one wall of the garden. I lent the
hostlers a hand in rubbing down their horses, and I
received in exchange twopence, a glass of half-and-
half, two fills of shag tobacco, and as much informa-
tion as I could desire about Miss Adler, to say noth-
ing of half a dozen other people in the neighborhood,
in whom I was not in the least interested, but whose
biographies I was compelled to listen to."

" And what of Irene Adler ? " I asked.

" Oh, she has turned all the men's heads down in
that part. She is the daintiest thing under a bonnet
on this planet. So say the Serpentine Mews, to a
man. She lives quietly, sings at concerts, drives
out at five every day, and returns at seven sharp for
dinner. Seldom goes out at other times, except
when she sings. Has only one male visitor, but a
good deal of him. He is dark, handsome, and dash-
ing ; never calls less than once a day, and often
twice. He is a Mr. Godfrey Norton of the Inner
Temple. See the advantages of a cabman as a con-
fidant. They had driven him home a dozen times
from Serpentine Mews, and knew all about him.
When I had listened to all that they had to tell, c
began to walk up and down near Briony Lodge once
more, and to think over my plan of campaign.

" This Godfrey Norton was evidently an important
factor in the matter. He was a lawyer. That
sounded ominous. What was the relation between
them, and what the object of his repeated visits ?
Was she his client, his friend, or his mistress ? If

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 207

the former, she had probably transferred the photo,
graph to his keeping. If the latter, it was less likely
On the issue of this question depended whether I
should continue my work at Briony Lodge, or turn
my attention to the gentleman's chambers in the
Temple. It was a delicate point, and it widened the
field of my inquiry. I fear that I bore you with
these details, but I have to let you see my little
difficulties, if you are to understand the situation."

" I am following you closely," I answered.

"I was still balancing the matter in ni}^ mind,
when a hansom cab drove up to Briony Lodge, and
a gentleman sprung out. He was a remarkably
handsome man, dark, aquiline, and mustached —
evidently the man of whom I had heard. He ap-
peared to be in a great hurry, shouted to the cabman
to wait, and brushed past the maid who opened the
door, with the air of a man who was thoroughly at
home.

" He was in the house about half an hour, and I
could catch glimpses of him in the windows of the
sitting-room, pacing up and down, talking excitedly
and waving his arms. Of her I could see nothing.
Presently he emerged, looking even more flurried
than before. As he stepped up to the cab, he pulled
a gold watch from his pocket and looked at it
earnestly. ' Drive like the devil ! ' he shouted, ' first
to Gross & Hankey's in Regent Street, and then
to the Church of St. Monica in the Edgeware Road.
Half a guinea if you do it in twenty minutes ! '

" Away they went, and I was just wondering
whether I should not do well to follow them, when

208 A SCANDAL ly BOHEMIA.

up the lane came a neat little landau, the coachman
with his coat only half buttoned, and his tie under
his ear, while all the tags of his harness were stick-
ing out of the buckles. It hadn't pulled up before
she shot out of the hall door and into it. I only
caught a glimpse of her at the moment, but she was
a lovely woman, with a face that a man might die
for.

" ' The Church of St. Monica, John,' she cried ;
' and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty
minutes.'

" This was quite too good to lose, Watson. T
was just balancing whether I should run for it, or
whether I should perch behind her landau, when
a cab came through the street. The driver looked
twice at such a shabby fare ; but I jumped in before
he could object. ' The Church of St. Monica,' said
I, * and half a sovereign if you reach it in twenty
minutes.' It was twenty-five minutes to twelve,
and of course it was clear enough what was in the
wind.

" My cabby drove fast. I don't think I ever
drove faster, but the others were there before us.
The cab and landau with their steaming: horses
were in front of the door when I arrived. I paid
the man, and hurried into the church. There was
not a soul there save the two whom I had followed,
and a surpliced clergyman, who seemed to be ex-
postulating with them. They were all three stand-
ing in a knot in front of the altar. I lounged up
the side aisle like any other idler who has dropped
into a church, Suddenly, to my surprise, the three

IL SCANDAL IN BOBEMIA. 209

at the altar faced round to me, and Godfrey Norton
came running as hard as he could toward me.

" ' Thank God ! ' he cried. ' You'll do. Come I
Come ! '

" ' What then ? ' I asked.

" ' Come, man, come ; only three minutes, or it
won't be legal.'

" I was half dragged up to the altar, and, before
I knew were I was, I found myself mumbling
responses which were whispered in my ear, and
vouching for things of w^hich I knew nothing, and
generally assisting in the secure tying up of Irene
Adler, spinster, to Godfrey Norton, bachelor. It
w^as all done in an instant, and there was the gen-
tleman thanking me on the one side and the lady
on the other, while the clergyman beamed on me
in front. It was the most preposterous position in
which I ever found myself in my life, and it was
the thought of it that started me laughing just now.
It seems that there had been some informality about
their license ; that the clergyman absolutely refused
to marry them without a witness of some sort, and
that my lucky appearance saved the bridegroom
from having to sally out into the streets in search
of a best man. The bride gave me a sovereign, and
I mean to wear it on my watch-chain in memory of
the occasion."

" This is a very unexpected turn of affairs," said
I ; " and what then ? "

" Well, I found my plans very seriously menaced.
It looked as if the pair might take an immediate
departure, and so necessitate very prompt and ener-

10— Vol. 1

210 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

getic measures on my part. At the church door,
however, they separated, he driving back to the
Temple, and she to her own house. ' I shall drive
out in the park at hve as usual,' she said, as she left
him. 1 heard no more. They drove away in differ-
ent directions, and I went off to make my own ar-
rangements."

" Which are ? "

*' Some cold beef and a glass of beer," he an-
swered, ringing the bell. " I have been too busy
to think of food, and I am likely to be busier still
this evening. By the way, doctor, I shall want
your co-operation."

" I shall be delighted."

" You don't mind breaking the law ? "

" Not in the least."

" Nor running a chance of arrest ? "

" Not in a good cause."

" Oh, the cause is excellent ! "

" Then I am your man."

" I was sure that I might rely on you."

" But what is it you wish ? "

*'* When Mrs. Turner has brought in the tray I
will make it clear to you. Now," he said, as he
turned hungrily on the simple fare that our land-
lady had provided, " I must discuss it while I eat,
for I have not much time. It is nearly five now.
In two hours we must be on the scene of action.
Miss Irene, or Madame, rather, returns from her
drive at seven. We must be at Briony Lodge to
meet her."

" And what then ?"

A 8GANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 211

"You must leave that to me. I have already
arranged what is to occur. There is only one
point on which I must insist. You must not in-
terfere, come what may. You understand ? "

" I am to be neutral ? "

" To do nothing whatever. There will probably
be some small unpleasantness. Do • not join in it.
It will end in my being conveyed into the house.
Four or five minutes afterward the sitting-room
window will open. You are to station yourself
close to that open window.''

" Yes."

" You are to watch me, for I will be visible to you."

" Yes."

*' And when I raise my hand — so — you will throw
into the room what I give you to throw, and will,
at th€ same time, raise the cry of fire. You quite
follow me ? "

" Entirely."

" It is nothing very formidable," he said, taking
a long, cigar-shaped roll from his pocket. " It is an
ordinary plumber's smoke-rocket, fitted with a cap
at either end, to make it self-lighting. Your task
is confined to that. When you rise your cry of fire,
it will be taken up by quite a number of people.
You may then walk to the end of the street, and I
will rejoin you in ten minutes. I hope that I have
made myself clear ? "

" I am to remain neutral, to get near the window,
to watch you, and, at the signal, to throw in this
object, then to raise the cry of fire, and to wait you
at the corner of the street."

212 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

" Precisely."

" Then you may entirely rely on me."

" That is excellent. I think, perhaps, it is almost
time that I prepared for the new r81e 1 have to play."

He disappeared into his bedroom, and returned
in a few minutes in the character of an amiable
and simple-minded Nonconformist clergyman. His
broad, black hat, his baggy trousers, his white tie,
his sympathetic smile, and general look of peering
and benevolent curiosity were such as Mr. John Hare
alone could have equaled. It was not merely that
Holmes changed his costume. His expression, his
manner, his very soul seemed to vary with every
fresh part that he assumed. The stage lost a fine
actor, even as science lost an acute reasoner, when
he became a specialist in crime.

It was a quarter past six when we left Baker
Street, and it still wanted ten minutes to the hour
when we found ourselves in Serpentine Avenue. It
was already dusk, and the lamps were just being
lighted as we paced up and down in front of Briony
Lodge, waiting for the coming of its occupant. The
house was just such as I had pictured it from Sher-
lock Holmes' succinct description, but the locality
appeared to be less private than I expected. On
the contrary, for a small street in a quiet neighbor-
hood, it was remarkably animated. There was a
group of shabbily dressed men smocking and laugh-
ing in a corner, a scissors-grinder with his wheel,
two guardsmen who were flirting with a nurse-girl,
and several well-dressed young men who were
lounging up and down with cigars in their mouths.

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 218

** You see," remarked Holmes, as we paced to and
fro in front of the house, " This marriage rather
simplifies matters. The photograph becomes a
double-edged weapon now. The chances are that
she would be as averse to its being seen by Mr. God-
frey Norton as our client is to its coming to the eyes
of his princess. Now the question is — where are we
to find the photograph ? "

" Where, indeed ? "

" It is most unlikely that she carries it about with
her. It is cabinet size. Too large for easy conceal-
ment about a woman's dress. She knows that the
king is capable of having her waylaid and searched.
Two attempts of the sort have already been made.
We may take it, then, that she does not carry it
about with her."

" Where, then ? "

''Her banker or her lawyer. There is that
double possibility. But I am inclined to think
neither. Women are naturally secretive, and they
like to do their own secreting. Why should she
hand it over to any one else ? She could trust her
own guardianship, but she could not tell what in-
direct or political influence might be brought to
bear upon a business man. Besides, remember that
she had resolved to use it within a few days. It
must be where she can lay her hands upon it. It
must be in her own house."

" But it has twice been burglarized."

*' Pshaw ! They did not know how to look."

*' But how will you look ? "

« I will not look.''

214 A BCANDAL IN BOHEMIA,

" What then ? "

" I will get her to show me."

" But she will refuse."

" She will not be able to. But I hear fche rumble
of wheels. It is her carriage. Now carry out m^
orders to the letter."

As he spoke, the gleam of the side-lights of a car
riage came round the curve of the avenue. It wa»
a smart little landau which rattled up to the door
of Briony Lodge. As it pulled up one of the loafing
men at the corner dashed forward to open the door
in the hope of earning a copper, but was elbowed
away by another loafer who had rushed up with
the same intention. A fierce quarrel broke out
which was increased by the two guardsmen, who
took sides with one of the loungers, and by the
scissors-grinder, who was equally hot upon the other
side. A blow was struck, and in an instant the
lady, who had stepped from her carriage, was the
center of a little knot of struggling men who struck
savagely at each other with their fists and sticks.
Holmes dashed into the crowd to protect the lady ;
but, just as he reached her, he gave a cry and
dropped to the ground, with the blood running
freely down his face. At his fall the guardsmen
took to their heels in one direction and the loungers
in the other, while a number of better dressed peo*
pie who had watched the scuffle without taking part
in it crowded in to help the lady and to attend to
the injured man. Irene Adler, as 1 will still call
her, had hurried up the steps ; but she stood at
the top, with her superb figure outlined against

A 8CANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 215

the lights of the hall, looking back into the
street.

'' Is the poor gentleman much hurt ? " she asked.

" He is dead," cried several voices.

"No, no, there's life in him," shouted another. " But
he'll be gone before you cun get him to the hospital."

" He's a brave fellow," said a woman. " They
would have had the lady's purse and watch if it
hadn't been for him. They were a gang, and a
rough one, too. Ah ! he's breathing now."

" He can't lie in the street. May we bring him in,
marm? "

" Surely. Bring him into the sitting-room. There
is a comfortable sofa. This way, please." Slowly
and solemnly he was borne into Briony Lodge, and
laid out in the principal room, while I still observed
the proceedings from my post by the window. The
lamps had been lighted, but the blinds had not been
drawn, so that I could see Holmes as he lay upon
the couch. I do not know whether he was seized
with compunction at that moment for the part he
was playing, but I know that I never felfc more
heartily ashamed of myself in my life w^hen I saw
the beautiful creature against whom I was con-
spiring, or the grace and kindliness with which she
waited upon the injured man. And yet it would
be the blackest treachery to Holmes to draw back
now from the part which he had intrusted to me.
I hardened my heart, and took the smoke-rocket
from under my ulster. After all, I thought, we are
not injuring her. We are but preventing her from
injuring another.

216 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA,

Holmes had sat upon the couch, and I saw him
motion like a man who is in need of air. A maid
rushed across and threw open the window. At the
same instance I saw him raise his hand, and at the
signal I tossed my rocket into the room with a- cry
of " Fire I " The word was no sooner out of my
mouth than the whole crowd of spectators, well
dressed and ill — gentlemen hostlers, and servant-
maids — joined in a general shriek of " Fire I " Thick
clouds of smoke curled through the room, and out
at the open mndow. I caught a glimpse of rush-
ing figures, and a moment later the voice of Holmes
from within assuring them that it was a false alarm.
Slipping through the shouting crowd, I made my
way to the corner of the street, and in ten minutes
was rejoiced to find my friend's arm in mine, and to
get away from the scene of uproar. He walked
swiftly and in silence for some few minutes, until we
had turned down one of the quiet streets which led
toward the Edgware Road.

"You did it very nicely, doctor," he remarked.
" Nothing could have been better. It is all right."

" You have the photograph ? "

" I know where it is."

*' And how did you find out ? "

" She showed me, as I told you tnat she would."

" I am still in the dark."

" I do not wish to make a mystery," said he,
laughing. " The matter was perfectly simple.
You, of course, saw that every one in the street
was an accomplice. They were all engaged for the
evening."

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 217

*' I guessed as much."

" Then, when the row broke out, I had a little
moist red paint in the palm of my hand. 1 rushed
forward, fell down, clapped my hand to my face,
and became a piteous spectacle. It is an old trick."

" That also I could fathom."

"Then they carried me in. She was bound to
have me in. What else could she do ? And into
her sitting-room, which was the very room which
I suspected. It lay between that and her bedroom,
and I was determined to see which. They laid me
on a couch, I motioned for air, they were compelled
to open the window, and you had your chance."

" How did that help you ? "

" It was all-important. When a woman thinks
that her house is on fire, her instinct is at once to
rush to the thing which she values most. It is a
perfectly overpowering impulse, and I have more
than once taken advantage of it. In the case of the
Darlington Substitution Scandal it was of use to
me, and also in the Arnsworth Castle business. A
married woman grabs at her baby — an unmarried
one reaches for her jewel-box. Now it was clear to
me that our lady of to-day had nothing in the house
more precious to her than what we are in quest of.
She would rush to secure it. The alarm of fire was
admirably done. The smoke and shouting were
enough to shake nerves of steel. She responded
beautifully. The photograph is in a recess behind
a sliding panel just above the right bell-pull. She
was there in an instant, and I caught a glimpse of
it as she half drew it out. When I cried out that

218 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA,

it was a false alarm, she replaced it, glanced at the
rocket, rushed from the room, and I have not seen
her since. I rose, and, making my excuses, escaped
from the house. I hesitated whether to attempt to
secure the photograph at once ; but the coachman
had come in, and as he was watching me narrowly,
it seemed safer to wait. A little over-precipitance
may ruin all."

" And now ? " I asked.

" Our quest is practically finished. I shall call
with the king to-morrow, and with you, if you care
to come with us. We will be shown into the sitting-
room to wait for the lady, but it is probable that
when she comes she may find neither us nor the pho-
tograph. It might be a satisfaction to his majesty to
regain it with his own hands."

" And when will you call ? "

" At eight in the morning. She will not be up,
so that we shall have a clear field. Besides, we
must be prompt, for this marriage may mean a com-
plete change in her life and habits. I must wire to
the king without delay."

We had reached Baker Street, and had stopped
at the door. He was searching his pockets for the
key, when some one passing said :

" Good night. Mister Sherlock Holmes."

There were several people on the pavement at the
time, but the greeting appeared to come from a
slim youth in an ulster who had hurried by.

" I've heard that voice before," said Holmes,
staring down the dimly lighted street. " Now, I
wonder who the deuce that could have been ? "

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 219

III.

I SLEPT at Baker Street that night, and wo were
engaged upon our toast and coffee in the morning,
when the King of Bohemia rushed into the room.

" You have really got it ? " he cried, grasping
Sherlock Holmes by either shoulder, and looking
eagerly into his face.

" Not yet."

" But you have hopes ? "

" 1 have hopes." *

" Then come. I am all impatience to be gone."

" We must have a cab."

" No, my brougham is waiting."

" Then that will simplify matters." We de-
scended, and started off once more for Briony Lodge.

" Irene Adler is married," remarked Holmes.

" Married ! When ? "

" Yesterday."

" But to whom ? "

" To an English lawyer named Norton."

" But she could not love him."

" I am in hopes that she does."

" And why in hopes ? "

*• Because it would spare your majesty all fear of
future annoyance. If the lady loves her husband,
she does not love your majesty. If she does not

220 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

love your majesty, there is no reason why she should
interfere with your majesty^s plan."'

^' It is true. And yet — Well, I wish she had
been of my own station. What a queen she would
have made ! " He relapsed into a moody silence,
which was not broken until we drew up in Serpen-
tine Avenue.

The door of Briony Lodge was open, and an
elderly woman stood upon the steps. She watched
us with a sardonic eye as we stepped from the
brougham.

" Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I believe ? " said she.

" I am Mr. Holmes," answered my companion,
looking at her with a questioning and rather startled
gaze.

" Indeed ! My mistress told me that you were
likely to call. She left this morning, with her
husband, by the 5:15 train from Charing Cross, for
the Continent."

" What ! " Sherlock Holmes staggered back white
with chagrin and surprise.

" Do you mean that she has left England ? "

" Never to return."

" And the papers ? " asked the king, hoarsely.
" All is lost ! "

" We shall see." He pushed past the servant,
and rushed into the drawing-room, followed by the
king and myself. The furniture was scattered
about in every direction, with dismantled shelves,
and open drawers, as if the lady had hurriedly ran-
sacked them before her flight. Holmes rushed at
the bell-pull, tore back a small sliding shutter, and

A SCANDAL IN BOEBMIA. 221

plunging in his band, pulled out a photograph and
a letter. The photograph was of Irene Adler her-
self in evening dress ; the letter was superscribed
to " Sherlock Holmes, Esq. To be left till called
for." My friend tore it open, and we all three read
it together. It was dated at midnight of the pre-
ceding night, and ran in this way :

" Mt dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes, — You really
did it very well. You took me in completely.
Until after the alarm of the fire, I had not a sus-
picion. But then, when I found how I had betrayed
myself, I began to think. I had been warned
against you months ago. I had been told that if
the king employed an agent, it would certainly be
you. And your address had been given me. Yet,
with all this, you made me reveal what you wanted
to know. Even after I became suspicious, I found
it hard to think evil of such a dear, kind old clergy-
man. But, you know, I have been trained as an
actress myself. Male costume is nothing new to
me. I often take advantage of the freedom which
it gives. I sent John, the coachman, to watch you,
ran up-stairs, got into my walking clothes, as I call
them, and came doAvn just as you departed.

" Well, I followed you to the door, and so made
sure that I was really an object of interest to the
celebrated Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Then I, rather
imprudently, wished you good-night, and started for
the Temple to see my husband.

" We both thought the best resource was flight,
when pursued by so formidable an antagonist ; so

222 A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA.

you will find the nest empty when you call to-morrow.
As to the photograph, your client may rest in peace.
I love and am loved by a better man than he. The
king may do what he will without hindrance from
one whom he has cruelly wronged. I keep it only
to safeguard myself, and preserve a weapon which
will always secure me from any steps which he
might take in the future. I leave a photograph
which he might care to possess ; and I remain, dear
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, very truly yours,

" Ikene Norton, nee Adler."

" What a woman — oh, what a woman ! " cried the
King of Bohemia, when we had all three read this
epistle. " Did I not tell you how quick and resolute
she was ? Would she not have made an admirable
queen ? Is it not a pity that she was not on my
level?"

" From what I have seen of the lady, she seems
Indeed, to be on a very different level to your maj-
esty," said Holmes, coldly. " I am sorry that I
have not been able to bring your majesty's business
to a more successful conclusion."

" On the contrary, my dear sir," cried the king,
"nothing could be more successful. I know that
her word is inviolate. The photograph is now as
safe as if it were in the fire."

" I am glad to hear your majesty say so."

" I am immensely indebted to you. Pray tell me
In what way 1 can reward you. This ring — " He
slipped an emerald snake ring from his finger, and
held it out upon the palm of his hand.

A SCANDAL IN BOHEMIA. 223

"Yoar majesty has something which I should
value even more highly," said Holmes.

" You have but to name it."

" This photograph ! "

The king stared at him in amazement.

" Irene's photograph I " he cried. " Certainly, if
you wish it."

" 1 thank your majesty. Then there is no more
to be done in the matter. I have the honor to wish
you a very good morning." He bowed, and turn-
ing away without observing the hand which the
king had stretched out to him, he set off in my com-
pany for his chambers.

And that was how a great scandal threatened to
affect the kingdom of Bohemia, and how the best
plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a
woman's wit. He used to make merry over the
cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it
of late. And when he speaks of Irene Adler, or when
he refers to her photograph, it is always under the
honorable title of the woman.

A CASE OF IDENTITY.

" My dear fellow," said Sherlock Holmes, as we
sat oa either side of the fire in his lodgings at
Baker Street, "life is infinitely stranger than any-
thing which the mind of man could invent. We
would not dare to conceive the things which are
really mere commonplaces of existence. If we
could fly out of that window hand in hand, hover
over this great city, gently remove the roofs, and
peep in at the queer things which are going on, the
strange coincidences, the plannings, the cross-pur-
poses, the wonderful chains of events, working
through generations, and leading to the most outre
results, it would make all fiction, with its conven-
tionalities and foreseen conclusions, most stale and
unprofitable."

" And yet I am not convinced of it," I an-
swered.

" The cases which come to light in the papers

are, as a rule, bald enough, and vulgar enough.

We have in our police reports realism pushed to

Its extreme limits, and yet the result is, it must be

confessed, neither fascinating nor artistic."

" A certain selection and discretion must be used

225

226 ^ CASE OF IDENTITY.

in producing a realistic effect," remarked Holmes.
" This is wanting in the police report, where more
stress is laid perhaps upon the platitudes of the
magistrate than upon the details, which to an ob-
server contain the vital essence of the whole matter.
Depend upon it, there is nothing so unnatural as the
commonplace."

I smiled and shook my head. " I can quite un-
derstand your thinking so," I said. " Of course,
in your position of unofficial adviser and helper to
everybody who is absolutely puzzled, throughout
three continents, you are brought in contact with
all that is strange and bizarre. But here " — I picked
up the morning paper from the ground — " let us
put it to a practical test. Here is the first heading
upon which I come. ' A husband's cruelty to his
wife.' There is half a column of print, but I know
without reading it that it is all perfectly familiar
to me. There is, of course, the other woman, the
drink, the push, the blow, the bruise, the unsym-
pathetic sister or landlady. The crudest of writers
could invent nothing more crude."

" Indeed your example is an unfortunate one for
your argument," said Holmes, taking the paper, and
glancing his eye down it. " This is the Dundas
separation case, and, as it happens, I was engaged
in clearing up some small points in connection with
it. The husband was a teetotaler, there was no
other woman, and the conduct complained of was that
he had drifted into the habit of winding up every
meal by taking out his false teeth and hurling them
at his wife, which you will allow is not an action

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 227

likely to occur to the imagination of the average
story-teller. Take a pinch of snuff, doctor, and
acknowledge that I have scored over you in your
example."

He held out his snuff-box of old gold, with a great
amethyst in the center of the lid. Its splendor was
in such contrast to his homely ways and simple life
that I could not help commenting upon it.

" Ah ! " said he, " I forgot that I had not seen
you for some weeks. It is a little souvenir from
the King of Bohemia, in return for my assistance
in the case of the Irene Adler papers."

" And the ring ? " I asked, glancing at a remark-
able brilliant which sparkled upon his finger.

" It was from the reigning family of Holland,
though the matter in which I served them was of
such delicacy that I cannot confide it even to you,
who have been good enough to chronicle one or two
of my little problems."

" And have you any on hand just now ? " I asked
with interest.

" Some ten or twelve, but none which present any
features of interest. They are important, you un-
derstand, without being interesting. Indeed I
have found that it is usually in unimportant matters
that there is a field for the observation, and for
the quick analysis of cause and effect which gives
the charm to an investigation. The larger crimes
are apt to be the simpler, for the bigger the crime,
the more obvious, as a rule, is the motive. In these
cases, save for one rather intricate matter which has
been referred to me from Marseilles, there is noth-

228 ^ CASE OF IDENTITY,

ing which presents any features of interest. It is
possible, however, that I may have something better
before very many minutes are over, for this is one
of my clients, or I am much mistaken."

He had risen from his chair, and was standing
between the parted blinds, gazing down into the
dull, neutral-tinted London street. Looking over
his shoulder, I saw that on the pavement opposite
there stood a large woman with a heavy fur boa
round her neck, and a large curling red feather rn
a broad-brimmed hat which was tilted in a coquettish
Duchess-of-Devonshire fashion over her ear.

From under this great panoply she peeped up in
a nervous, hesitating fashion at our windows, while
her body oscillated backward and forward, and her
fingers fidgeted with her glove buttons. Suddenly,
with a plunge, as of the swimmer who leaves the
bank, she hurried across the road, and we heard the
sharp clang of the bell.

" I have seen those symptoms before," said
Holmes, throwing his cigarette into the fire. " Oscil-
lation upon the pavement always means an affaire
de coeur. She would like advice, but is not sure that
the matter is not too delicate for communication.
And yet even here we may discriminate. When a
woman has been seriously wronged by a man, she no
longer oscillates, and the usual symptom is a broken
bell wire. Here we may take it that there is a love
matter, but that the maiden is uot so much angry as
perplexed or grieved. But here she comes in person
to resolve our doubts."

As he spoke, there was a tap at the door, and the

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 229

boy in buttons entered to announce ]\Iiss Mary
Sutherland, while the lady herself loomed behind
his small black figure like a full-sailed merchantman
behind a tiny pilot boat. Sherlock Holmes wel.
comed her with the easy courtesy for which he was
remarkable, and having closed the door, and bowed
her into an armchair, he looked her over in the
minute^ and yet abstracted fashion which was pecul-
iar to kim,

" Do you not find," he said, " that with your
short sight it is a little trying to do so much type-
writing ? "

*' I did at first," she answered, " but now I know
where the letters are without looking." Then,
suddenly realizing the full purport of his words, she
gave a violent start, and looked up with fear and
astonishment upon her broad, good-humored face.
*^ You've heard about me, Mr. Holmes," she cried,
" else how could you know all that ? "

" Never mind," said Holmes, laughing, " it is my
business to know things. Perhaps I have trained
myself to see what others overlook. If not, why
should you come to consult me ? "

" I came to you, sir, because I heard of you from
Mrs. Etherege, whose husband you found so easily
when the police and every one had given him up
for dead. Oh, Mr. Holmes, I wish you would do as
much for me. I'm not rich, but still I have a hun-
dred a year in my own right, besides the little that
I make by the machine, and I would give it all to
know what has become of Mr. Hosmer Angel."

" Why did you come away to consult me in such

230 A CASE OF IDENTITY.

a hurry ? " asked Sherlock Holmes, with his finger-
tips together, and his eyes to the ceiling.

Again a startled look came over the somewhat
vacuous face of Miss Mary Sutherland. " Yes, I
did bang out of the house,'' she said, " for it made
me angT}^ to see the easy way in which Mr. Windi-
bank — that is, my father — took it all. He would
not go to the police, and he would not go to you,
and so at last, as he would do nothing, and kept on
saying that there was no harm done, it made me
mad, and I just on with my things and came right
away to you."

" Your father," said Holmes, " your stepfather,
surely, since the name is different."

" Yes, my stepfather. I call him father, though
it sounds funny, too, for he is only five years and
two months older than myself."

" And your mother is alive ? "

" Oh, yes«; mother is alive and well. I wasn't best
pleased, Mr. Holmes, when she married again so
soon after father's death, and a man who was nearly
fifteen years younger than herself. Father was a
plumber in the Tottenham Court Koad, and he left
a tidy business behind him, which mother carried on
with Mr. Hardy, the foreman ; but when Mr. Windi-
bank came he made her sell the business, for he was
very superior, being a traveler in wines. They got
four thousand seven hundred for the good-will and
interest, which wasn't near as much as father could
have got if he had been alive."

I had expected to see Sherlock Holmes impatient
under this rambling and inconsequential narrative,

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 231

but, on the contrary, he had listened with the
greatest concentration of attention.

" Your own little income," he asked, " does it
come out of the business ? "

" Oh, no, sir. It is quite separate, and was left
me by my uncle Ned in Auckland. It is in New
Zealand stock, paying four and a half per cent.
Two thousand live hundred pounds was the amount,
but I can only touch the interest."

" You interest me extremely," said Holmes.
" And since you draw so large a sum as a hundred
a year, with what you earn into the bargain, you
no doubt travel a little, and indulge yourself in
every way. I believe that a single lady can get on
very nicely upon an income of about sixty pounds."

" I could do with much less than that, Mr. Holmes,
but you understand that as long as I live at
home I don't wish to be a burden to them, and so
they have the use of the money just while I am stay-
ing with them. Of course that is only just for the
time. Mr. Windibank draws my interest every
quarter, and pays it over to mother, and I find that
I can do pretty well with what I earn at typewrit-
ing. It brings me twopence a sheet, and I can
often do from fifteen to twenty sheets in a
day."

" You have made your position very clear to me,"
said Holmes. " This is my friend. Doctor Watson,
before whom you can speak as freely as before my-
self. Kindly tell us now all about your connection
with Mr. Hosmer Angel."

A flush stole over Miss Sutherland's face, and she

232 A C^SE OF IDENTITY.

picked nervously at the fringe of her jacket. "1
met him first at the gas-fitters' ball," she said.
*' They used to send father tickets when he was
alive, and then afterward they remembered us, and
sent them to mother. Mr. Windibank did not wish
us to go. He never did wish us to go anywhere.
He would get quite mad if I wanted so much as to
join a Sunday-school treat. But this time I was
set on going, and I would go, for what right had he
to prevent ? He said the folk were not fit for us
to know, when all father's friends were to be there.
And he said that I had nothing fit to wear, when
I had my purple plush that I had never so much as
taken out of the drawer. At last, when nothing else
would do, he went off to France upon the business
of the firm ; but we Tvent, mother and I, with
Mr. Hardy, who used to be our foreman, and it was
there I met Mr. Hosmer Angel."

" I suppose," said Holmes, " that when Mr. Wind-
ibank came back from France, he was very annoyed
at your having gone to the ball ? "

" Oh, well, he was very good about it. He laughed,
I remember, and shrugged his shoulders, and said
there was no use denying anything to a woman,
for she would have her way."

" I see. Then at the gas-fitters' ball you met, as
I understand, a gentleman called Mr. Hosmer
Angel ? "

" Yes, sir. I met him that night, and he called
next day to ask if we had got home all safe, and
after that we met him — that is to say, Mr. Holmes,
1 met him twice for walks, but after that father

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 283

came back again, and Mr. Ilosmer Angel could not
come to the house any more."

" No ? "

" Well, you know, father didn't like anything of
the sort. He wouldn't have any visitors if he could
help it, and he used to say that a woman should be
happy in her own family circle. But then, as I used
to say to mother, a woman wants her own circle to
begin with, and I had not got mine yet."

" But how about Mr. Hosmer Angel ? Did he
make no attempt to see you ? ''

*' Well, father was going off to France again in
a week, and Hosmer wrote and said that it would
be safer and better not to see each other until he
had gone. We could write in the meantime, and
he used to write every day. 1 took the letters in
the morning, so there was no need for father to
know."

" Were you engaged to the gentleman at this
time ? "

" Oh, yes, Mr. Holmes. We were engaged after
the first walk that we took. Hosmer — Mr. Angel
— was a cashier in an office in Leadenhall Street —
and—"

" What office ? "

" That's the worst of it, Mr. Holmes, I don't
know."

" Where did he live, then ? "

" He slept on the premises."

" And you don't know his address ? "

" No — except that it was Leadenhall Street."

" Where did you address your letters, then ? '*

11— Vol. 1

234 A CASE OF IDENTITY,

" To the Leadenball Street Post-office, to be left
till called for. He said that if they were sent to the
office he would be chaffed by all the other clerks
about having letters from a lady, so 1 offered to
typewrite them, like he did his, but he wouldn't
have that, for he said that when I wrote them they
seemed to come from me, but when they were type-
written he always felt that the machine had come
between us. That will just show you how fond he
was of me, Mr. Holmes, and the little things that
he would think of."

" It was most suggestive," said Holmes. " It has
long been an axiom of mine that the little things
are infinitely the most important. Can you re-
member any other little things about Mr. Hosmer
Angel ? "

" He was a very shy man, Mr. Holmes. He would
rather walk with me in the evening than in the
daylight, for he said that he hated to be conspicu-
ous. Very retiring and gentlemanly he was. Even
his voice was gentle. He'd had the quinsy and
swollen glands when he was young, he told me, and
it had left him with a weak throat and a hesitating,
whispering fashion of speech. He was always well-
dressed, very neat and plain, but his eyes were
weak, just as mine are, and he wore tinted glasses
against the glare."

" Well, and what happened when Mr. Windibank,
your stepfather, returned to France ? "

" Mr. Hosmer Angel came to the house again, and
proposed that we should marry before father came
back. He was in dreadful earnest, and made me

A CASE OP IDENTITY. 235

swear, with ray hands on the Testament, that what-
ever happened 1 would always be true to him.
Mother said he was quite right to make me swear,
and that it was a sign of his passion. Mother was
all in his favor from the first, and was even fonder
of him than I was. Then, when they talked of
marrying within the week, I began to ask about
father ; but they both said never to mind about
father, but just to tell him afterward, and mother
said she would make it all right with him. I didn't
quite like that, Mr. Holmes. It seemed funny that
I should ask his leave, as he was only a few years
older than me ; but I didn't want to do anything
on the sly, so I. wrote to father at Bordeaux, where
the company has its French offices, but the letter
came back to me on the verv morning of the wed-
ding."

" It missed him, then ? "

" Yes, sir, for he had started to England just be-
fore it arrived."

" Ha ! that was unfortunate. Your wedding was
arranged, then, for the Friday. Was it to be in
church ? "

" Yes, sir, but very quietly. It was to be at St.
Saviour's, near King's Cross, and we were to have
breakfast afterward at the St. Pancras Hotel.
Hosmer came for us in a hansom, but as there were
two of us, he put us both into it, and stepped him-
self into a four-wheeler, which happened to be the
only other cab in the street. We got to the church
first, and when the four-wheeler drove up we waited
for him to step out, but he never did, and when the

236 A CASE OF IDENTITY.

cabman got down from the box and looked, there
was no one there ! The cabman said that he could
not imagine what had become of him, for he had
seen him get in \vith his own eyes. That w^as last
Friday, Mr. Holmes, and I have never seen or heard
anything since then to throw any light upon what
became of him."

" It seems to me that you have been very shame-
fully treated," said Holmes.

" Oh, no, sir ! He was too good and kind to leave
me so. Why, all the morning he was saying to me
that, whatever happened, I was to be u'ue ; and
that even if something quite unforeseen occurred
to separate us, I was always to remember that I
was pledged to him, and that he would claim his
pledge sooner or later. It seemed strange talk for
a wedding morning, but what has happened since
gives a meaning to it."

" Most certainly it does. Your own opinion is,
then, that some unforeseen catastrophe has occurred
to him ?"

" Yes, sir. I believe that he foresaw some danger,
or else he would not have talked so. And then I
think that what he foresaw happened."

" But you have no notion as to what it could have
been ? "

" None."

" One more question. How did your mother take
the matter ? "

" She was angr}^, and said that I was never to
speak of the matter again."

" And your father ? Did you tell him ? "

A CASE OF IDENTITY, 237

**Yes, and he seemed to think, with me, that
something had happened, and that I should hear of
Hosmer again. As he said, what interest could any
one have in bringing me to the door of the church,
and then leaving me ? Now, if he had borrowed
my money, or if he had married me and got my
money settled on him, there might be some reason ;
but Hosmer was very independent about money,
and never would look at a shilling of mine. And
yet what could have happened ? And why could
he not write? Oh ! it drives me half mad to think
of, and I can't sleep a wink at night." She pulled
a little handkerchief out of her muff, and began to
sob heavily into it.

" I shall glance into the case for you," said
Holmes, rising, " and I have no doubt that we shall
reach some definite result. Let the weight of the
matter rest upon me now, and do not let your mind
dwell upon it further. Above all, try to let Mr.
Hosmer Angel vanish from your memory, as he has
done from your life."

" Then you don't think I'll see him again ? "

" I fear not."

" Then what has happened to him ? "

" You will leave that question in my hands. I
should like an accurate description of him, and any
letters of his which you can spare."

" I advertised for him in last Saturday's Chronicle,^''
said she. " Here is the slip, and here are four letters
from him."

" Thank you. And your address ? "

" No. 31, Lyon Place, Camberwell."

23b A CASE OF IDENTITY.

" ]\rr Angel's address you never bad, I under-
stand. Where is your father's place of business ? "

" He travels for Westhouse & Marbank, the great
claret importers of Fenchurch Street."

" Thank you. You have made your statement
very clearly. You will leave the papers here, and
remember the advice which I have given you. Let
the whole incident be a sealed book, and do not
allow it to affect your life."

" You are very kind, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot
do that. I shall be true to Hosmer. He shall find
me ready when he comes back."

For all the preposterous hat and the vacuous face,
there was something noble in the simple faith of
our visitor which compelled our respect. She laid
her little bundle of papers upon the table, and went
her way, with a promise to come again whenever
she might be summoned.

Sherlock Holmes sat silent for a few minutes
with his finger-tips still pressed together, his legs
stretched out in front of him, and his gaze directed
upward to the ceiling. Then he took down from
the rack the old and oily clay pipe, which was to
him as a counselor, and, having lighted it, he leaned
back in his chair, with thick blue cloud-wreaths
spinning up from him, and a look of infinite languor
in his face.

"Quite an interesting study, that maiden," he
observed. " I found her more interesting than her
little problem, which, b}^ the way, is rather a trite
one. You will find parallel cases, if you consult
my index, in Andover in '77, and there was some-

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 239

thing of the sort at the Hague last year. Old as is
the idea, however, there were one or two details
which were new to me. But the maiden herself
was most instructive."

" You appeared to read a good deal upon her
which was quite invisible to me," I remarked.

" Not invisible, but unnoticed, Watson. You
did not know w^here to look, and so you missed all
that was important. I can never bring you to real-
ize the importance of sleeves, the suggestiveness of
thumb-nails, or the great issues that may hang from
a boot-lace. Now, what did you gather from that
woman's appearance ? Describe it."

"Well, she had a slate-colored, broad-brimmed
straw hat, with a feather of a brickish red. Her
jacket was black, with black beads sewed upon it
and a fringe of little black jet ornaments. Her dress
was brown, rather darker than coffee color, with a
little purple plush at the neck and sleeves. Her
gloves were grayish, and were worn through at the
right forefinger. Her boots I didn't observe. She
had small round, hanging gold earrings, and a general
air of being fairly well to do, in a vulgar, comfort-
able, easy-going way."

Sherlock Holmes clapped his hands softly together
and chuckled.

" 'Pon my word, Watson, you are coming along
wonderfully. You have really done very w^ell m-
deed. It is true that you have missed everything of
importance, but you have hit upon the method, and
you have a quick eye for color. Never trust to
general impressions, my boy, but concentrate your-

240 'A CASE OF IDENTITY.

self upon details. My first glance is always at a
woman's sleeve. In a man it is perhaps better first
to take the knee of the trouser. As you observe,
this woman had plush upon her sleeves, which is a
most useful material for showing traces. The dou ble
line a little above the wrist, where the typewritist
presses against the table, was beautifully defined.
The sewing-machine, of the hand type, leaves a
similar mark, but only on the left arm, and on the
side of it furthest from the thumb, instead of being
right across the broadest part, as this was. I then
glanced at her face, and observing the dint of a
pince-nez at either side of her nose, I ventured a
remark upon short sight and typewriting, which
seemed to surprise her."

" It surprised me."

" But, surely, it was very obvious. I was then
much surprised and interested on glancing down to
observe that, though the boots which she was wear-
ing were not unlike each other, they were really
odd ones, the one having a slightly decorated toe-
cap and the other a plain one. One was buttoned
only in the two lower buttons out of five, and the
other at the first, third and fifth. Now, when you
see that a J^oung lady, otherwise neatly dressed, has
come away from home with odd boots, half-buttoned
it is no great deduction to say that she came away
in a hurry."

" And what else ? " I asked, keenly interested, as
1 always was, by my friend's incisive reasoning.

" I noted, in passing, that she had written a note
before leaving home, but after being fully dressed

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 241

You observed that her right glove was torn at the
forefinger, but you did not, apparently, see that both
glove and finger were stained with violet ink. She
had written in a hurry,' and dipped her pen too deep.
It must have been this morning, or the mark would
not remain clear upon the finger. All this is amus-
ing, though rather elementary, but I must go back
to business, Watson. Would you mind reading me
the advertised description of Mr. Hosmer Angel ? "

I held the little printed slip to the light. " Miss-
ing," it said, " on the morning of the fourteenth, a
gentleman named Hosmer Angel. About live feet
seven inches in height ; strongly built, sallow com-
plexion, black hair, a little bald in the center, bushy,
black side- whiskers and mustache ; tinted glasses ;
slight infirmity of speech. Was dressed, when last
seen, in black frock coat faced with silk, black waist-
coat, gold Albert chain, and gray Harris tweed
trousers, with brown gaiters over elastic-sided boots.
Known to have been employed in an ofiice in Lead-
enhall Street. Anybody bringing," etc., etc.

" That will do," said Holmes. '' As to the letters,"
he continued, glancing over them, " they are very
commonplace. Absolutely no clew in them to Mr.
Angel, save that he quotes Balzac once. There is
one remarkable point, however, which will no doubt
strike you."

" They are typewritten," I remarked.

" Not only that, but the signature is typewritten.
Look at the neat little ' Hosmer Angel ' at the
bottom. There is a date, you see, but no super-
scription except Leadenhall Street, which is rather

242 A CASE OF IDENTITY.

vague. The point about the signature is very sug-
gestive— in fact, we may call it conclusive."

" Of what ? "

" My dear fellow, is it possible you do not see how
strongly it bears upon the case ? "

" I cannot say that I do, unless it were that he
wished to be able to deny his signature if an action
for breach of promise were instituted."

" No, that was not the point. However, I shall
write two letters which should settle the matter.
One is to a firm in the city, the other is to the young
lady's stepfather, Mr. Windibank, asking him
whether he could meet us here at six o'clock to-
morrow evening. It is just as well that we should
do business with the male relatives. And now,
doctor, we can do nothing until the answers to those
letters come, so we may put our little problem upon
the shelf for the interim."

I had had so many reasons to believe in my
friend's subtle powers of reasoning, and extraordi-
nary energy in action, that I felt that he must have
some solid grounds for the assured and easy de-
meanor with which he treated the singular mystery
which he had been called upon to fathom. Once
only had I known him to fail, in the case of the
King of Bohemia and of the Irene Adler photograph,
but when I looked back to the weird business of the
" Sign of Four," and the extraordinary circumstances
connected with the " Study in Scarlet," I felt that
it would be a strange tangle indeed which he could
not unravel.

I left him then, still puffing at his black clay pipe,

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 243

with the conviction that when I came again on the
next evening I would find that he held in his hands
all the clews which would lead up to the identity of
the disappearing bridegroom of Miss Mary Suther-
land.

A professional case of great gravity was engaging
my own attention at the time, and the whole of next
day I was busy at the bedside of the sufferer. It
was not until close upon six o'clock that I found my-
self free, and was able to spring into a hansom and
drive to Baker Street, half afraid that I might be
too late to assist at the denouement of the little mys*
tery. I found Sherlock Holmes alone, however,
half asleep, with his long, thin form curled up in
the recesses of his armchair. A formidable array
of bottles and test-tubes, with the pungent, cleanly
smell of hydrochloric acid, told me that he had
spent his day in the chemical work which was so
dear to him.

" Well, have you solved it ? " I asked as I entered.

" Yes. It was the bisulphate of baryta."

" No, no ; the mystery I " I cried.

" Oh, that ! I thought of the salt that I have been
working upon. There was never any mystery in
the matter, though, as I said yesterday, some of the
details are of interest. The only drawback is that
there is no law, I fear, that can touch the scoun-
drel."

" Who was he, then, and what was his object in
deserting Miss Sutherland ? "

The question was hardly out of my mouth, and
Holmes had not yet opened his lips to reply, when

244 A CASE OF IDENTITY.

we heard a heavy footfall in the passage, and a tap
at the door.

" This is the girl's stepfather, Mr. James Windi-
bank," said Holmes. " He has written to me to say
that he would be here at six. Come in ! "

The man who entered was a sturd}', middle-sized
fellow, some thirty years of age, clean shaven, and
sallow skinned, with a bland, insinuating manner, and
a pair of wonderfully sharp and penetrating gray
eyes. He shot a questioning glance at each of us,
placed his shiny top hat upon the sideboard, and,
with a slight bow, sidled down into the nearest
chair.

" Good evening, Mr. James Windibank," said
Holmes. '*I think this typewritten letter is from
you, in which you made an appointment with me
for six o'clock ? "

"Yes, sir. I am afraid that I am a little late,
but I am not quite my own master, you know. I
am sorrv that Miss Sutherland has troubled vou
about this little matter, for I think it is far better
not to wash linen of the sort in public. It was quite
against my wishes that she came, but she is a very
excitable, impulsive girl, as you may have noticed,
and she is not easily controlled when she has made
up her mind on a point. Of course, I did not mind
you so much, as you are not connected with the
oflficial police, but it is not pleasant to have a family
misfortune like this noised abroad. Besides, it is a
useless expense, for how could you possibly find this
Hosmer Angel ? "

" On the contrary," said Holmes, quietly, " I have

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 245

every reason to believe that I will succeed in dis-
covering Mr. Hosmer Angel."

Mr Windibank gave a violent start, and dropped
his gloves. " I am delighted to hear it," he said.

" It is a curious thing," remarked Holmes, " that
a typewriter has really quite as much individuality
as a man's handwriting. Unless they are quite new
no two of them write exactly alike. Some letters
get more worn than others, and some wear only on
one side. Now, you remark in this note of yours,
Mr. Windibank, that in every case there is some
little slurring over the e, and a slight defect in the
tail of the r. There are fourteen other characteris-
tics, but those are the more obvious."

" We do all our correspondence with this machine
at the office, and no doubt it is a little worn," our
visitor answered, glancing keenly at Holmes with
his bright little eyes.

" And now I will show you what is really a very
interesting study, Mr. Windibank," Holmes con-
tinued. " I think of writing another little mono-
graph some of these days on the typewriter and its
relation to crime. It is a subject to which I
have devoted some little attention. I have here
four letters which purport to come from the
missing man. They are all typewritten. In each
case, not only are the e^s slurred and the r'^ tailless,
but you will observe, if you care to use my magni-
fying lens, that the fourteen other characteristics to
which I have alluded are there as well."
- Mr. Windibank sprung out of his chair, and
picked up his hat. " I cannot waste time over this

246 A CASE OF IDENTITT.

sort of fantastic talk, Mr. Holmes," he said. " If
70U can catch the man, catch him, and let me know
when you have done it."

" Certainly," said Holmes, stepping over and turn-
ing the key in the door. " I let you know, then,
that I have caught him ! "

" What ! where ? " shouted Mr. Windibank, turn-
ing white to his lips, and glancing about him like a
rat in a trap.

" Oh, it won't do — really it won't," said Holmes,
suavely. " There is no possible getting out of it,
Mr. Windibank. It is quite too transparent, and it
w^as a very bad compliment when you said that it
was impossible for me to solve so simple a question.
That's right ! Sit down, and let us talk it over."

Our visitor collapsed into a chair, with a ghastly
face, and a glitter of moisture on his brow. " It —
it's not actionable," he stammered.

" I am very much afraid that it is not ; but
between ourselves, Windibank, it was as cruel, and
selfish, and heartless a trick in a petty way as ever
came before me. Now, let me just run over the
course of events, and you will contradict me if I go
wrong."

The man sat huddled up in his chair, with his
head sunk upon his breast, like one who is utterly
crushed. Holmes stuck his feet up on the corner
of the mantel-piece, and, leaning back with his
hands in his pockets, began talking, rather to him-
self, as it seemed, than to us.

" The man married a woman very much older
than himself for her money," said he, "and he

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 247

enjoyed the use of the money of the daughter as
long as she lived with them. It was a considerable
sum, for people in their position, and the loss of it
would have made a serious difference. It was
worth an effort to preserve it. The daughter was
of a good, amiable disposition, but affectionate and
warm-hearted in her ways, so that it was evident
that with her fair personal advantages, and her
little income, she would not be allowed to remain
single long. Now her marriage would mean, of
course, the loss of a hundred a year, so what does
her step-father do to prevent it ? He takes the ob-
vious course of keeping her at home, and forbidding
her to seek the company of people of her own age.
But soon he found that that would not answer for-
ever. She became restive, insisted upon her rights,
and finally announced her positive intention of go-
ing to a certain ball. What does her clever step-
father do then ? He conceives an idea more credit-
able to his head than to his heart. With the con-
nivance and assistance of his wife, he disguised him-
self, covered those keen eyes with tinted glasses,
masked the face with a mustache and a pair of
bushy whiskers, sunk that clear voice into an insin-
uating whisper, and doubly secure on account of the
girl's short sight, he appears as Mr. Hosmer Angel,
and keeps off other lovers by making love himself."

" It was only a joke at first," groaned our vis-
itor. " We never thought that she would have been
so carried away."

" Very likely not. However that may be, the
young lady was very decididly carried away, and

248 A CASE OF IDENTITY,

having quite made up her mind that her stepfather
was in France, the suspicion of treachery never for
an instant entered her mind. She was flattered by
the gentleman's attentions, and the effect was in-
creased by the loudly expressed admiration of her
mother. Then Mr. Angel began to caJl, for it was
obvious that the matter should be pushed as far as
it would go, if a real effect were to be produced.
There were meetings, and an engagement, which
would finally secure the girl's affections from turn-
ing toward any one else. But the deception could
not be kept up forever. These pretended journeys
to France were rather cumbrous. The thing to do
was clearly to bring the business to an end in such
a dramatic manner that it would leave a permanent
impression upon the young lady's mind, and pre-
vent her from looking upon any other suitor for
some time to come. Hence those vows of fidelity
exacted upon a Testament, and hence also the allu-
sions to a possibility of something happening on the
very morning of the wedding. James Windibank
wished Miss Sutherland to be so bound to Hosmer
Angel, and so uncertain as to his fate, that for ten
years to come, at any rate, she would not listen to
another man. As far as the church door he brought
her, and then, as he could go no further, he con-
veniently vanished away by the old trick of step-
ping in at one door of a four-wheeler and out at the
other. I think that that was the chain of events,
Mr. Windibank ! "

Our visitor had recovered something of his assur-
ance while Holmes had been talking, and he rose

A CASE OF IDENTrfY. 219

from his chair now with a cold sneer upon his pale
face.

" It may be so, or it may not, Mr. Holmes," said
he; " but if you are so very sharp you ought to be
sharp enough to know that it is you who are break-
ing the law now, and not me. I have done nothing
actionable from the first, but as long as you keep
that door locked you lay yourself open to an action
for assault and illegal constraint."

'' The law cannot, as you say, touch you," said
Holmes, unlocking and throwing open the door,
" yet there never was a man who deserved punish-
ment more. If the young lady has a brother or a
friend, he ought to lay a whip across your shoulders.
By Jove ! " he continued, flushing up at the sight
of the bitter sneer upon the man's face, " it is not
part of my duties to my client, but here's a hunt-
ing crop handy, and I think I shall just treat my-
self to — " He took two swift steps to the whip,
but before he could grasp it there was a wild clatter
of steps upon the stairs, the heavy hall door banged,
and from the window we could see Mr. James
Windibank running at the top of his speed down
the road.

" There's a cold-blooded scoundrel ! " said Holmes
laughing as he threw himself down into his chair
once more. " That fellow will rise from crime to
crime until he does something very bad and ends
on a gallows. The case has, in some respects, been
not entirelv devoid of interest."

" I cannot now entirely see all the steps of your
reasoning," I remarked.

250 A. CASE OF IDENTITY.

" Well, of course it was obvious from the first that
this Mr. Hosmer Angel must have some strong ob-
ject for his curious conduct, and it was equally clear
that the only man who really profited by the inci-
dent, as far as we could see, was the stepfather. Then
the fact that the two men were never together, but
that the one always appeared when the other was
away, was suggestive. So were the tinted spectacles
and the curious voice, which both hinted at a dis-
guise, as did the bushy whiskers. My suspicions
were all confirmed by his peculiar action in type-
writing his signature, which, of course, inferred that
his handwriting was so familiar to her that she would
recognize even the smallest sam-ple of it. You see
all these isolated facts, together with many minor
ones, all pointed in the same direction."

" And how did j^ou verify them ? "

" Having once spotted my man, it was easy to get
corroboration. I knew the firm for which this man
worked. Having taken the printed description, I
eliminated evervthino^ from it which could be the
result of a disguise — the whiskers, the glasses, the
voice, and I sent it to the firm with a request that
they would inform me whether it answered to the
description of any of their travelers. I had already
noticed the peculiarities of the typewriter, and I
wrote to the man himself at his business address,
asking him if he would come here. As I expected,
his reply was typewritten, and revealed the same
trivial but characteristic defects. The same post
brought me a letter from Westhouse & Marbank, of
Fenchurch Street, to say that the description tallied

A CASE OF IDENTITY. 251

in every respect with that of their employe, James
Windibank. Voild tout ! "

" And Miss Sutherland ? "

" If I tell her she will not believe me. You may
remember the old Persian saying-, * There is danger
for him who taketh the tiger cub, and danger also
for whoso snatches a delusion from a woman.' There
is as much sense in Hafiz as in Horace, and as much
knowledge of the world."

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

"Number 43 is no better, doctor," said the head,
warder, in a slightly reproachful accent, looking in
round the corner of my door.

^' Confound 43 ! " I responded from behind the
pages of the Australian Sketcher.

" And 61 says his tubes are paining him. Couldn't
you do anything for him ? "

He is a walking drug-shop," said I. "He has the
whole British pharmacopoea inside him. I believe
his tubes are as sound as yours are."

" Then there's 7 and 108, they are chronic," con-
tinued the warder, glancing down a blue slip of
paper. " And 28 knocked off work yesterday — said
lifting things gave him a stitch in the side. I want
you to have a look at him, if you don't mind, doctor.
There's 31, too — him that killed John Adamson in
the Corinthian brig — he's been carrying on awful
in the night, shrieking and yelling, he has, and no
stopping him either."

" All right, I'll have a look at him afterward," I

said, tossing my paper carelessly aside, and pouring

myself out a cup of coffee. " Nothing else to report,

I suppose, warder ? "

253

254 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

The official protruded his head a little further in-
to the room. " Beg pardon, doctor,' he said, in a
confidential tone, " but I notice as 82 has a bit of a
cold, and it would be a good excuse for you to visit
him and have a chat, may be."

The cup of coffeo was arrested half-way to my lips
as I stared in amazement a' the man's serious face.

"An excuse ? " I said. " An excuse ? What the
deuce are you talking about, McPherson ? You see
me trudging about all day at my practise, when I'm
not looking after the prisoners, and coming back
every night as tired as a dog, and you talk about
finding an excuse for doing more work."

" You'd like it, doctor," said Warder McPherson,
insinuating one of his shoulders into the room.
" That man's story's worth listening to if you could
get him to tell it, though he's not what you'd call
free in his speech. Maybe you don't know who 82
is?"

" No, I don't, and I don't care either," I answered,
in the conviction that some local ruffian was about
to be foisted upon me as a celebrity.

" He's Maloney," said the warder, " him that
turned Queen's evidence after the murders at Blue-
mansdyke."

" You don't say so?" I ejaculated, laying down
my cup in astonishment. I had heard of this ghastly
series of murders, and read an account of them in
a London magazine long before setting foot in the
colony. I remembered that the atrocities committed
had thrown the Burke and Hare crimes completely
into the shade, and that one of the most villainous

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 255

of the gang had saved his own skin by betraying
his companions. "Are you sure? ' 1 asked.

" Oh, yes, it's him right enough. Just you draw
him out a bit, and he'll astonish you. He's a man
to know, is Maloney ; that's to say, in moderation ; "
and the head grinned, bobbed, and disappeared,
leaving me to finish my breakfast and ruminate over
what 1 had heard.

The surgeonship of an Australian prison is not
an enviable position. It may be endurable in Mel-
bourne or Sydney, but the little town of Perth has
few attractions to recommend it, and those few had
been long exhausted. The climate was detestable,
and the society far from congenial. Sheep and cat-
tle were the staple support of the community ; and
their prices, breeding, and diseases the principal
topic of conversation. ISTowas I, being an outsider,
possessed neither the one nor the other, and was
utterly callous to the new " dip " and the " rot "
and other kindred topics, 1 found myself in a state
of mental isolation, and was ready to hail anything
which might relieve the monotony of my existence.
Maloney, the murderer, had at least some distinc-
tiveness and individuality in his character, and might
act as a tonic to a mind sick of the commonplaces
of existence. I determined that I should follow the
warder's advice, and take the excuse for making his
acquaintance. When, therefore, I went upon my
usual matutinal round, I turned the lock of the door
which bore the convict's number upon it, and
walked into the cell.

The man was lying in a heap upon his rough bed

256 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

as I entered, but, uncoiling his long limbs, he started
up and stared at me with an insolent look of de-
fiance on his face which augured badly for our inter-
view. He had a pale, set face, with sandy hair and
a steely- blue eye, with something feline in its ex-
pression. His frame was tall and muscular, though
there was a curious bend in his shoulders, which
almost amounted to a deformity. An ordinary
observer meeting him in the street might have put
him down as a well-developed man, fairly handsome,
and of studious habits — even in the hideous uniform
of the rottenest convict establishment he imparted
a certain refinement to his carriage which marked
him out among the inferior ruffians around him.

"I'm not on the sick-list," he said, gruffly.
There was something in the hard, rasping voice
which dispelled all softer illusions, and made me
realize that I was face to face with the man of the
Lena Yalley and Bluemansdyke, the bloodiest bush-
ranger that ever stuck up a farm or cut the throats
of its occupants.

" I know you're not," I answered. " Warder
McPherson told me you had a cold, though, and I
thought I'd look in and see you."

" Blast Warder McPherson, and blast you, too ! "
yelled the convict, in a paroxysm of rage. " Oh,
that's right," he added in a quieter voice ; " hurry
away ; report me to the governor, do ! Get me
another six months or so — that's your game."

" I'm not going to report you," I said.

" Eight square feet of ground," he went on, dis-
regarding my protest, and evidently working him-

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 257

self into a fury again. " Eight square feet, and I
can't have that without being talked to and stared
at, and — oh, blast the whole crew of you ! " and he
raised his two clinched hands above his head and
shook them in passionate invective.

" You've got a curious idea of hospitality," I re-
marked, determined not to lose my temper, and say-
ing almost the first thing that came to my tongue.

To my surprise the words had an extraordinary
effect upon him. He seemed completelj^ staggered
at my assuming the proposition for which he had
been so fiercely contending — namely, that the room
in which he stood was his own.

" I beg your pardon," he said ; " I didn't mean to
be rude. Won't you take a seat ? " and he motioned
toward a rough trestle, which formed the head-
piece of his couch.

I sat down, rather astonished at the sudden
change. I don't know that I liked Maloney better
under this new aspect. The murderer had, it is
true, disappeared for the nonce, but there was some-
thmg in the smooth tones and obsequious man-
ner which powerfully suggested the witness of the
queen> who had stood up and sworn away the lives
of his companions in crime.

*' How's your chest ? " 1 asked, putting on my
professional air.

" Come, drop it, doctor — drop it ! " he answered,
showing a row of white teeth as he resumed his seat
upon the side of the bed. " It wasn't anxiety after
my precious health that brought you along here ;
that story won't wash at all. You came to have

12— Vol. 1

25S MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

a look at "Wolf Tone baloney, forger, murderer,
Sydney-slider, ranger, and government peach.
That's about my figure, ain't it ? There it is, plain
and straight ; there's nothing mean about me."

He paused as if he expected me to say something ;
but as I remained silent, he repeated once or twice,
" There's nothing mean about me."

" And why shouldn't I ? " he suddenly yelled, his
e3^es gleaming and his whole satanic nature reassert-
ing itself. " We were bound to swing, one and all,
and they were none the worse if I saved myself by
turning against them. Every man for himself, say
I, and the devil take the luckiest. You haven't a
plug of tobacco, doctor, have you ? "

He tore at the piece of " Barrett's " which I
handed him, as ravenously as a wild beast. It
seemed to have the effect of soothing his nerves,
for he settled himself down in the bed and reassumed
his former deprecating manner.

" You wouldn't like it yourself, you know, doc-
tor," he said : " it's enough to make any man a little
queer m his temper. I'm m for six months this
time for assault, and very sorry I shall be to go out
again, I can tell you. My mind's at ease in here;
but when I'm outside, what with the government
and what with Tattooed Tom, of Hawkesbury,
there's no chance of a quiet life."

"Who IS he?" I asked.

" He's the brother of John Grimthorpe, the same
that was condemned on my evidence ; and an in-
fernal scamp he was, too ! Spawn of the devil,
both of them I This tattooed one is a murderous

MY FRIEND" THE MURDERER. 259

rnffian, and he sworo to have my blood after that
trial. It's seven vear ao-o, and he's followin<2: me
yet ; I know he is, though he lies low and keeps
dark. He came up to me in Ballarat in '75 ; you
can see on the back of my hand here where the
bullet clipped me. He tried again in '76, at Port
Philip, but I got the drop on him and wounded him
badly. He knifed me in '79, though, in a bar at
Adelaide, and that made our account about level.
He's loafing round again now, and he'll let daylight
into me — unless — unless by some extraordinary
chance some one does as much for him." And
Maloney gave a very ugly smile.

" I don't complain of him so much," he continued.
" Looking at it in his way, no doubt it is a sort of
family matter that can hardly be neglected. It's
the o^overnment that fetches me. When I think of
what I've done for this country, and then of what
this country has done for me, it makes me fairly
wild — clean drives me off my head. There's no
gratitude nor common decency left, doctor ! "

He brooded over his wrongs for a few minutes,
and then proceeded to lay them before me in detail.

" Here's nine men," he said ; " they've been mur-
dering and killing for a matter of three years, and
maybe a life a week wouldn't more than average the
work that they've done. The government catches
them and the government tries them, but they can't
convict ; and why ? — because the witnesses have all
had their throats cut, and the whole job's been very
neatly done. What happens then? Up comes a
citizen called Wolf Tone Maloney ; he says, * The coun-

260 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

try needs me, and here I am.' And with that he gives
his evidence, convicts the lot, and enables the beaks
to hang them. That's what I did. There's nothing
mean about me ! And now what does the country
do in return ? Dogs me, sir, spies on me, watches
me night and day, turns against the very man that
worked so very hard for it. There's something
mean about that, anyw^ay. I didn't expect them to
knight me, nor to make me colonial secretary ; but,
damn it ! I did expect that they would let me
alone ! "

" Well," I remonstrated, " if you choose to break
laws and assault people, you can't expect it to be
looked over on account of former services."

" I don't refer to my present imprisonment, sir,"
said Maloney, with dignity. " It's the life I've
been leading since that cursed trial that takes the
soul out of me. Just you sit there on that trestle,
and I'll tell you all about it ; and then look me in
the face and tell me that I've been treated fair bv
the police."

I shall endeavor to transcribe the experience of
the convict in his own words, as far as I can re-
member them, preserving his curious perversions of
right and wrong. I can answer for the truth of
his facts, whatever may be said for his deductions
from them. Months afterward, Inspector H. W.
Hann, formerly governor of the jail at Dunedin,
showed me entries in his ledger which corroborated
every statement. Maloney reeled the story off in
a dull, monotonous voice, with his head sunk upon
his breast and his hands between his knees. The

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER, 261

glitter of his serpent-like eyes was the only sign of
the emotions which were stirred up by the recollec-
tion of the events which he narrated.

You've read of Bluemansdyke (he began, with
some pride in his tone). We made it hot while it
lasted ; but they ran us to earth at last, and a trap
called Braxton, with a damned Yankee, took the lot
of us. That was in New Zealand, of course, and they
took us down to Dunedin, and there they were
convicted and hanged. One and all they put up
their hands in the dock, and cursed me till 3"our
blood would have run cold to hear them — which
was scurvy treatment, seeing that we had all been
pals together ; but they were a blackguard lot, and
thought only of themselves. I think it is as well
that they were hung.

They took me back to Dunedin Jail, and clapped
me into the old cell. The only difference they made
was, that I had no work to do and was well fed. I
stood this for a Aveek or two, until one day the
governor was making his rounds, and I put the
matter to him.

" How's this ? " I said. " My conditions were a
free pardon, and you're keeping me here against
the law."

He gave a sort of a smile. " Should you like very
much to get out ? " he asked.

" So much," said I, " that unless you open that
door I'll have an action against you for illegal de-
tention."

He seemed a bit astonished by my resolution.

262 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

" You're very anxious to meet your death," he
said.

" What d'ye mean ? " I asked.

" Come here, and you'll know what I mean," he
answered. And he led me down the passage to a
window that overlooked the door of the prison.
" Look at that ! " said he.

I looked out, and ^here were a dozen or so rough-
looking fellows standing outside the street, some of
them smoking, some playing cards on the pavement.
When they saw me they gave a yell and crowded
round the door, shaking their fists and hooting.

" They wait for you, watch and watch about,"
safid the governor. " They're the executive of the
vigilance committee. However^ since you are deter-
mined to go, I can't stop you."

" D'ye call this a civilized land," I cried, " and let
a man be murdered in cold blood in open day-
light ? "

When I said this the governor and the warder
and every fool in the place grinned, as if a man's
life was a rare good joke.

" You've got the law on your side," says the gov-
ernor ; " so we won't detain you any longer. Show
him out, warder."

He'd have done it, too, the black-hearted villain,
if I hadn't begged and prayed and offered to pay
for my board and lodging, which is more than any
prisoner ever did before me. He let me stay on
those conditions ; and for three months I was caged
up there with every larrikin in the township
clamoring at the other side of the wall. That was

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 263

pretty treatment for a man that had served his
country !

At last, one moniing up came the governor again.

'^Well, Maloney/' he said, ^'how long are you go-
ing to honor us with your society ?"

I could have put a knife into his cursed body, and
would, too, if we had been alone in the bush ; but
I had to smile, and smooth him and flatter, for I
feared that he might have me sent out.

"You're an infernal rascal," he said ; those were
his very words, to a man that had helped him all he
knew how. "I don't want any rough justice here,
though ; and I think I see my way to getting you
out of Dunedin."

"I'll never forget you, governor," said I ; and, by
God ! I never will.

"I don't want your thanks nor your gratitude,"
he answered ; "it's not for your sake that I do it,
but simply to keep order in the town. There's a
steamer starts from the West Quay to Melbourne
to-morrow, and we'll get you aboard it. She is ad-
vertised at five in the morning, so have yourself in
readiness."

I packed up the few things I had, and was smug-
gled out by a back door, just before daybreak. I
hurried down, took my ticket under the name of
Isaac Smith, and got safely aboard the Melbourne
boat I remember hearing her screw grinding into
the water as the warps were cast loose, and looking
back at the lights of Dunedin as I leaned upon the
bulwarks, with the pleasant thought that I was
leaving them behind me forever. It seemed to me

264 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

that a new world was before me, and that all my
troubles had been cast off. I went down below and
had some coffee, and came up again feeling better
thany I had done since the morning that I woke to
find that cursed Irishman that took me standing over
me with a six-shooter.

Day had dawned by that time, and we were
steaming along by the coast, well out of sight of
Bunedin. I loafed about for a couple of hours, and
when the sun got well up some of the other passen-
gers came on deck and joined me. One of them, a
little perky sort of fellow, took a good long look at
me, and then came over and began talking.

"Mining, I suppose?'' says he.

"Yes," I says.

"Made your pile ?" he asks.

"Pretty fair," says I.

"I was at it myself," he says; "I worked at the
IN'elson fields for three months, and spent all I made
in buying a salted claim which busted up the second
day. T went at it again, though, and struck it rich ;
but when the gold wagon was going down to the set-
tlements, it was stuck up by those cursed rangers, and
not a red cent left."

"That was a bad job," I says.

"Broke me — ruined me clean. Never mind, I've
seen them all hanged for it; that makes it easier to
bear. There's only one left — the villain that gave
the evidence. I'd die happy if I could come across
him. There are two things I have to do if I meet
him."

"^Vhat's that?" says I, carelessly.

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 265

" I've got to ask him where the money lies — they
never had time to make away with it, and it's cached
somewhere m the mountains — and then I've got to
stretch his neck for him, and send his soul down to
join the men that he betrayed."

It seemed to me that I knew something about that
cache, and I felt like laughing ; but he was watching
me, and it struck me that he had a nasty, vindictive
kind of mind.

" I'm going up on the bridge," I said, for he was
not a man whose acquaintance I cared much about
making.

He wouldn't hear of my leaving him, though.
ii "Vfe're both miners," he says, '* and we're pals for
the voyage. Come down to the bar. I'm not too
poor to shout."

I couldn't refuse him well, and we went down
together ; and that was the beginning of the trouble.
What harm was I doing any one on the ship ? All
I asked for was a quiet life, leaving others alone and
getting left alone myself. No man could ask fairer
than that. And now just you listen to what came
of it.

We were passing the front of the ladies' cabin, on
our way to the saloon, when out comes a servant
lass — a freckled currency she-devil — with a baby in
her arms. We were brushing past her, when she
gave a scream like a railway whistle, and nearly
dropped the kid. My nerves gave a sort of a jump
when I heard that scream, but I turned and begged
her pardon, letting on that I thought I might have
trod on her foot. I knew the game was up, though,

266 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

when I saw her white face, aud her leaning against
the door and pointing.

" It's him ! " she cried ; " it's him ! I saw him in
the court-house. Oh, don't let him hurt the baby ! "

" Who is it i " asked the steward and half a dozen
others in a breath.

" It's him — Maloney — Maloney, the murderer —
oh, take him away — take him away ! "

I don't rightly remember what happened just at
that moment. The furniture and me seemed to get
kind of mixed, and there was cursing, and smashing,
and some one shouting for his gold, and a general
stamping round. When I got steadied a bit, I found
somebody's hand in my mouth. From what I
gathered afterward, I concluded that it belonged to
that same little man with the vicious way of talking.
He got some of it out again, but that was because
the others were choking me. A poor chap can get
no fair play in this world when once he is down —
still, I think he will remember me till the day of his
death — longer, I hope.

They dragged me out on to the poop and held a
damned court-martial — on m^, mind you ; me, that
had thrown over my pals in order to serve them.
What were they to do with me ? Some said this,
some said that ; but it ended by the captain decid-
ing to send me ashore. The ship stopped, they
lowered a boat, and I was hoisted in, the whole gang
of them hooting at me from over the bulwarks. I
saw the man I spoke of tying up his hand, though,
and I felt that things might be worse.

I changed my opinion before we got to the land.

MT FRIEND THE MURDERER. 267

I had reckoned on the shore being deserted, and
that I might make my way inhmd ; but the ship
had stopped too near the Heads, and a dozen beach-
combers and such like had come down to the water's
edge and were staring at us, wondering what the
boat was after. When we got to the edge of the
surf the cockswain hailed them, and after singing
out who I was, he and his men threw me into the
water. You may well look surprised — neck and
crop into ten feet of water, with sharks as thick as
green parrots in the bush, and I heard them laugh-
ing as I floundered to the shore.

I soon saw it was a worse job than ever. As I
came scrambling out through the weeds, I was col-
lared by a big chap with a velveteen coat, and half
a dozen others got round me and held me fast.
Most of them looked simple fellows enough, and I
was not afraid of them ; but there was one in a cab-
bage-tree hat that had a very nasty e:^ression on
his face, and the big man seemed to be chummy
with him.

They dragged me up the beach, and then they
let go their hold of me and stood round in a circle.

" Well, mate," says the man with the hat, " we've
been looking out for you some time in these parts."

" And very good of you, too," I answers.

" None of your jaw," says he. " Come, boys,
what shall it be — hanging, drowning, or shooting ?
Look sharp ! "

This looked a bit too like business. " No, you
don't ! " I said. " I've got government protection,
and it'll be murder."

268 MT FRIEND TEE MURDERER.

"That's what they call it," answered the one in
the velveteen coat, as cheery as a piping crow.

" And you're going to murder me for being a
ranger 'i "

"Eanger be damned!" said the man. "We're
going to hang you for peaching against your pals ;
and that's an end of the palaver."

They slung a rope round my neck and dragged
me up to the edge of the bush. There were some
big she-oaks and blue-gums, and they pitched on one
of these for the wicked deed. They ran the rope
over a branch, tied my hands, and told me to say
my prayers. It seemed as if it was all up ; but
Providence interfered to save me. It sounds nice
enough sitting here and telling about it, sir ; but it
was sick work to stand with nothing but the beach
in front of you, and the long white line of surf, with
the steamer in the distance, and a set of bloody-
minded villains round you thirsting for your life.

I never thought I'd owe anything good to the
police ; but they saved me that time. A troop of
them were riding from Hawkes Point Station to
Dunedin, and hearing that something was up, they
came down through the bush and interrupted the
proceedings. I've heard some bands in my time,
doctor, but I never heard music like the jingle of
those traps' spurs and harness as they galloped out on
to the open. They tried to hang me even then, but
the police were too quick for them ; and the man with
the hat got one over the head with the flat of a sword.
I was clapped on to a horse, and before evening I
found myself in my old quarters in the city jail.

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 269

The governor wasn't to be done, though. He
was determined to get rid of me, and I was equally
anxious to see the last of him. He waited a week
or so until the excitement had begun to die away,
and then he smuggled me aboard a three-masted
schooner bound to Sydney with tallow and hides.

We got far away to sea without a hitch, and
things began to look a bit more rosy. I made sure
that I had seen the last of the prison, anyway. The
crew had a sort of an idea who I was, and if there'd
been any rough weather, they'd have hove me over-
board, like enough ; for they Avere a rough, igno-
rant lot, and had a notion that I brought bad luck to
the ship. We had a good passage, however, and I
was landed safe and sound upon Sydney Quay.

Now just you listen to what happened next.
You'd have thought they would have been sick of
ill-using me and following me by this time — wouldn't
you, now? Well, just you listen. It seems that a
cursed steamer started from Dunedin to Sydney on
the very day we left, and got in before us, bringing
news that I was coming. Blessed if they hadn't
called a meeting — a regular mass-meeting — at the
docks to discuss about it, and I marched right into
it when I landed. They didn't take long about
arresting me, and I listened to all the speeches and
resolutions. If I'd been a prince there couldn't have
been more excitement. The end of all was that they
agreed that it Tvasn't right that New Zealand should
be allowed to foist her criminals upon her neighbors,
and that I was to be sent back again by the next
boat. So they posted me off again as if I was a

270 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

damned parcel ; and after another eight-hundred-
mile journey I found myself back for the third time
moving in the place that I started from.

By this time I had begun to think that I was going
to spend the rest of my existence traveling about
from one port to another. Every man's hand seemed
turned against me, and there was no peace or quiet
in any direction. I was about sick of it by the time
I had come back ; and if I could have taken to the
bush I'd have done it, and chanced it with my old
pals. They were too quick for me, though, and kept
me under lock and key ; but I managed, in spite of
them, to negotiate that cache I told you of, and
sewed the gold up in my belt. I spent another
month in jail, and then they slipped me aboard a
bark that was bound for England.

This time the crew never knew who I was, but
the captain had a pretty good idea, though he didn't
let on to me that he had any suspicions. I guessed
from the first that the man was a villain. We had
a fair passage, except a gale or two off the Cape ;
and I began to feel like a free man when I saw the
blue loom of the old country, and the saucy little
pilot-boat from Falmouth dancing toward us over
the waves. We ran down the Channel, and before
we reached Gravesend I had agreed with the pilot
that he should take me ashore with him when he
left. It was at this time that the captain showed
me that I was right in thinking him a meddling,
disagreeable man. I got my things packed, such as
they were, and left him talking earnestly to the
pilot, while I went below for my breakfast. When

MY FRIEND THE MUIWEULR. 27 i

I came up again we were fairly into the mouth of
the river, and the boat in which I was to have gone
ashore had left us. The skipper said the pilot had
forgotten me ; but that was too thin, and I began
to fear that all my old troubles were going to com-
mence once more.

It was not long before my suspicions were con-
firmed. A boat darted out from the side of the
river, and a tall cove with a long black beard came
aboard. I heard him ask the mate whether they
didn't need a mud-pilot to take them up in the
reaches, but it seemed to me that he was a man
who would know a deal more about handcuffs than
he did about steering, so I kept away from him.
He came across the deck, however, and made some
remark to me, taking a good look at me the while.
I don't like inquisitive people at any time, but an
inquisitive stranger with glue about the roots of
his beard is the worst of all to stand, especially
under the circumstances. I began to feel that it
was time for me to go.

I soon got a chance, and made good use of it. A
big collier came athwart the bows of our steamer,
and we had to slacken down to dead slow. There
was a barge astern, and I slipped down by a rope
and was into the barge before any one missed me.
Of course I had to leave my luggage behind me,
but I had the belt with the nuggets round my
waist, and the chance of shaking the police off my
track was worth more than a couple of boxes. It
was clear to me now that the pilot had been a
traitor, as well as the captain, and had set the

272 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER,

detectives after me. I often wish I could drop
across those two men again.

I hung about the barge all day as she drifted
down the stream. There was one man in her, but
she was a big, ugly craft, and his hands were too
full for much looking about. Toward evening,
when it got a bit dusky, I struck out for the shore,
and found myself in a sort of marsh place, a good
many miles to the east of London. I was soaking
wet and half dead with hunger, but I trudged into
the town, got a new rig-out at a slop-shop, and
after having some supper, engaged a bed at the
quietest lodgings I could find.

I woke pretty early — a habit you pick up in the
bush — and lucky for me that I did so. The very
first thing I saw when I took a look through a chink
in the shutter was one of these infernal policempn,
standing right opposite and staring up at the
windows. He hadn't epaulets nor a sword, like
our traps, but for all that there was a sort of
family likeness, and the same busybody expression.
Whether they followed me all the time, or whether
the woman that let me the bed didn't like the
looks of me, is more than I have ever been able to
find out. He came across as I was watching him,
and noted down the address of the house in a book.
I was afraid that he was going to ring at the bell,
but I suppose his orders were simply to keep an eye
on me, for after another good look at the windows
he moved on down the street.

I saw that my only chance was to act at once. I
threw on my clothes, opened the window softly.

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 273

and, after making sure that there was nobody about,
dropped out onto the ground and made off as hard
as I could run. I traveled a matter of two or three
miles, when my wind gave out ; and as I saw a big
building with people going in and out, I went in
too, and found that it was a railway station. A
train was just going off for Dover to meet the French
boat, so I took a ticket and jumped into a third-
class carriage.

There were a couple of other chaps in the car-
riage, innocent-looking young beggars, both of them.
They began speaking about this and that, while I
sat quiet in the corner and listened. Then they
started on England and foreign countries, and such
like. Look ye now, doctor, this is a fact. One of
them begins jawing about the justice of England's
laws. " It's all fair and above-board," says he ;
" there ain't any secret police, nor spying, like they
have abroad," and a lot more of the same sort of
wash. Rather rough on me, wasn't it, listening to
the damned young fool, with the police following
me about like my shadow ?

I got to Paris right enough, and there I changed
some of my gold, and for a few days I imagined I'd
shaken them off, and began to think of settling down
for a bit of rest. I needed it by that time, for I was
looking more like a ghost than a man. You've
never had the police after you, I suppose ? Well, you
needn't look offended, I didn't mean any harm. If
ever you had you'd know that it wastes a man away
like a sheep with the rot.

I went to the opera one night and took a box, for

274 ^^ FRIE2^D THE MURDERER.

I was very flush. I was coming out between the
acts when I met a fellow lounging along in the pas-
sage. The light fell on his face, and I saw that it
was the mud-pilot that had boarded us in the Thames.
His beard was gone, but 1 recognized the man at
a glance, for I've a good memory for faces.

I tell you, doctor, I felt desperate for a moment. I
could have knifed him if we had been alone, but he
knew me well enough never to give me the chance.
It was more than I could stand any longer, so I
went right up to him and drew him aside, where
we' d be free from all the loungers and theater-goers.

" How long are you going to keep it up ? " I
asked him.

He seemed a bit flustered for a moment, but then
he saw there was no use beating about the bush, so
be answered straight :

" Until you go back to Australia," he said.

" Don't you know," I said, " that I have served
the government and got a free pardon ? "

He grinned all over his ugly face when I said this.

" We know all about you, Maloney," he answered.
" If you want a quiet life, just you go back where
you came from. If you stay here, you're a marked
man ; and when you are found tripping it'll be a
lifer for you, at the least. Free trade's a fine thing
but the market's too full of men like you for us to
need to import any."

It seemed to me that there was something in what
he said, though he had a nasty way of putting it.
For some days back I'd been feeling a sort ofhome
sick. The ways of the people weren't my ways. They

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 275

stared at me in the street ; and if I dropped into a
oar, they'd stop talking and edge away a bit, as if I
was a wild beast. I'd sooner have had a pint of old
Stringybark, too, than a bucketful of their rot-gut
liquors. There was too much damned propriety.
What was the use of having money if you couldn't
dress as yon liked, nor bust in properly ? There was
no sympathy for a man if he shot about a little when
he was half-over. I've seen a man dropped at Nel-
son many a time with less row than they'd make
over a broken window-pane. The thing was slow,
and I was sick of it.

" You want me to go back? " I said.

" I've my order to stick fast to you until you do,"
he answered.

" Well," I said, " I don't care if I do. All I bar-
gain is that you keep your mouth shut and don't let
on who I am, so that I may have a fair start when I
get there."

He agreed to this, and we went over to South-
ampton the very next day, where he saw me safely
off once more. I took a passage round to Adelaide,
where no one was likely to know me ; and there I
settled, right under the nose of the police. I'd been
there ever since, leading a quiet life,'but for little diffi-
culties like the one I'm in for now, and for that devil,
Tattooed Tom, of Hawkesbury. I don't know what
made me tell you all this, doctor, unless it is that
being lonely makes a man inclined to jaw when he
gets a chance. Just you take warning from me,
though. Never put yourself out to serve your coun-
try ; for your country will do precious little for you.

276 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

Just you let them look after their own affairs ; and
if they tind difficulty in hanging a set of scoundrels,
never mind chipping in, but let them alone to do as
best they can. Maybe they'll remember how they
treated me after I'm dead, and be sorry for neglect-
ing me. I was rude to you when you came in, and
swore a trifle promiscuous : but don't you mind me,
it's only my way. You'll allow, though, that I have
cause to be a bit touchy now and again when 1 think
of all that's passed. You're not going, are you ?
Well, if you must, you must ; but I hope you will
look me up at odd times when you are going your
rounds. Oh, I say, you've left the balance of that
cake of tobacco behind you, haven't you ? No : it's
in your pocket — that's all right. Thank ye doctor,
you're a good sort, and as quick at a hint as any
man I've met.

A couple of months after narrating his experi-
ences, "Wolf Tone Maloney finished his term, and
was released. For a long time I neither saw him
nor heard of him, and he had almost slipped from
my memory, until I was reminded, in a somewhat
tragic manner, of his existence. I had been attend-
ing a patient some distance off in the country, and
was riding back, guiding my tired horse among
the boulders which strewed the pathway, and en-
deavoring to see my way through the gathering
darkness, when I came suddenly upon a little way-
side inn. As I walked my horse up toward the door,
intending to make sure of my bearings before pro-
ceeding further, I heard the sound of a violent alter-
cation within the little bar. There seemed to be

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 211

a chorus of expostulation or remonstrance, abov^e
which two jDowerful voices rang out loud and
angry. As 1 listened, there was a momentary hush,
two pistol shots sounded almost simultaneous!}'",
and with a crash the door burst open and a pair of
dark figures staggered out into the moonlight. The}''
struggled for a moment in a deadly wrestle, and
then went down together among the loose stones.
I had sprung off my horse, and, with the help of
half a dozen rough fellows from the bar, dragged
them away from one another.

A glance was sufficient to convince me that one
of them was dying fast. He was a thick-set burly
fellow, with a determined cast of countenance. The
blood was welling from a deep stab in his throat,
and it was evident that an important artery had
been divided. I turned away from him in despair,
and walked over to where his antagonist was lying.
He was shot through the lungs, but managed to
raise himself up on his hand as 1 approached, and
peered anxiously up into my face. To my surprise,
1 saw before me the haggard features and flaxen
hair of my prison acquaintance, Maloney.

"Ah, doctor!" he said, recognizing me "How
is he? Will he die?"

He asked the question so earnestly that I im-
agined he had softened at the last moment, and
feared to leave the world with another homicide
upon his conscience. Truth, however, compelled
me to shake my head mournfully, and to mtimate
that the wound would prove a mortal one.

Maloney gave a wild cry of triumph, which

278 MY FRIEND THE MURDERER.

brought the blood welling out from between his
lips. " Here, boys," he gasped to the little group
around him. " There's money in my inside pocket.
Damn the expense ! Drinks round. There's noth.
ing mean about me. I'd drink with you, but I'm
going. Give the doc my share, for he's as good — "
Here his head fell back with a thud, his eye glazed,
and the soul of Wolf Tone Maloney, forger, con-
vict, ranger, murderer, and government peach,
drifted away into the Great Unknown.

I cannot conclude without borrowing the account
of the fatal quarrel which appeared in the columns
of the West Australian Sentinel. The curious will
find it in the issue of October 4, 1881 :

" Fatal Affray. — W. T. Maloney, a well-known
citizen of New Montrose, and proprietor of the
Yellow Boy gambling saloon, has met with his
death under rather painful circumstances. Mr.
Maloney was a man who had led a checkered exist-
ence, and whose past history is replete with in-
terest. Some of our readers may recall the Lena
Valley murders, in which he figured as the principal
criminal. It is conjectured that during the seven
months that he owned a bar in that region^ from
twenty to thirty travelers were hocussed and made
away with. He succeeded, however, in evading the
vigilance of the officers of the law, and allied him-
self with the bushrangers of Bluemansdyke, whose
heroic capture and subsequent execution are matters
of history. Maloney extricated himself from the fate

MY FRIEND THE MURDERER. 279

whicti awaited him b}- turning Queen's evidence.
He afterward visited Europe, but returned to AVest
Australia, where he has long played a prominent
part in local matters. On Friday evening he en-
countered an old enemy, Thomas Grimthorpe, com-
monly known as Tattooed Tom, of Hawkesbury.
Shots Avere exchanged, and both were badly
wounded, only surviving a few minutes. Mr. Ma-
loney had the reputation of being not only the
most wholesale murderer that ever lived, but also
of having a finish and attention to detail in matters
of evidence which has been unapproached by any
European criminal. tSio transit gloria uiuudi I "

THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL.

CHAPTER I.

HOW THE WOMAN CAME TO KIRKBY-MALHOUSE.

Bleak and wind-swept is the little town of Kirkby-
Malhouse, and harsh and forbidding are the fells
upon which it stands. It stretches in a single line
of gray-stone, slate-roofed houses, dotted down the
furze-clad slope of the long rolling moor. To the
north and soUth stretch the swelling curves of the
Yorkshire uplands, peeping over each other's backs
to the skyland, with a tinge of yellow in the fore-
ground, which shades away to olive in the distance,
save where the long gray scars of rock protrude
through the scanty and barren soil. From the little
barren knoll above the church one may see to the
westward a fringe of gold upon an arc of silver,
where the great Morecambe sands are washed by
the Irish Sea. To the east, Ingleborough looms
purple in the distance ; while Pennigent shoots up
the tapering peak, whose great shadow,' like Nar
ture's own sun-dial, sweeps slowly around over a vast
expanse of savage and sterile country.

13— Vol. 1

282 THE SURGEON OF 0A8TER FELL.

In this lonely and secluded village, I, James Up-
perton, found myself in the summer of '85. Little as
the hamlet had to offer, it contained that for which
I yearned above all things — seclusion and freedom
from all which might distract my mind from the
high and weighty subjects which engaged it. I
was weary of the long turmoil and profitless striv-
ings of life. From early youth my days had been
spent in wild adventure and strange experiences,
until at the age of thirty -nine there were few lands
upon which I had not set foot, and scarcely any joy
or sorrow of which I had not tasted. Among the
first of Europeans, I had penetrated to the desolate
shores of Lake Tanganyika ; I had twice made my
way to those unvisited and impenetrable jungles
which skirt the great table-land of Roraima. As a
soldier of fortune I had served under many flags. I
was with Jackson in the Shenandoah Yalley ; and I
fought with Chanzy in the army of the Loire. It
may well seem strange that, after a life so exciting,
I could give myself up to the dull routine and trivial
interests of the West Riding hamlet. And yet there
are excitements of the mind to which mere bodily
peril or the exaltation of travel is mean and com-
monplace. For years I had devoted myself to the
study of the mystic and hermetic philosophies, Egyp-
tian, Indian, Grecian and medieval, until out of the
vast chaos there had dimly dawned upon me a huge
symmetrical design ; and I seemed to grasp the key
of that symbolism which was used by those learned
men to screen their precious knowledge from the
vulgar and the wicked. Gnostics and Neo-platonists,

THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL. 283

Chaldeans, Rosicrucians, and Indian Mystics, I saw
and understood in which each played a part. To
me the jargon of Paracelsus, the mysteries of the
alchemists, and the visions of Sweden borg were all
pregnant with meaning. I had deciphered the mys-
terious inscriptions of El Biram ; and I knew the
import of those strange characters which have been
engraved by an unknown race upon the cliffs of
Southern Turkestan. Immersed in these great and
engrossing studies, I asked nothing from life save a
garret for myself and for my books, where I might
pursue my studies without interference or interrup-
tion. »

But even in this little moorside village I found that
it was impossible to shake off the censorship of
one's fellow-mortals. When I went forth, the rustics
would eye me askance, and mothers would whip up
their children as I passed down the village street.
At night I have glanced through my diamond-paned
lattice to find that a group of foolish, staring peas-
ants had been craning their necks in an ectasy of
fear and curiosity to watch me at my solitary task.
My landlady, too, became garrulous with a clatter
of questions under every small pretext, and a hun-
dred small ruses and wiles by which to tempt me
to speak to her of myself and of my plans. All
this was ill to bear ; but when at last I heard that
I was no longer to be sole lodger, and that a lady,
a stranger, had engaged the other room, I felt that
indeed it was time for one who sought the quiet and
the peace of study to seek some more tranquil sur-
rounding.

284 TEE SURGEON OF 0 ASTER FELL.

In my frequent walks I had learned to know well
the wild and desolate region where Yorkshire
borders on both Lancashire and Westmoreland.
From Kirkby-Malhouse I had frequently made my
way to this lonesome wilderness, and had traversed
it from end to end. In the gloomy majesty of its
scenery, and the appalling stillness and loneliness
of its rock-strewn, melancholy solitudes, it seemed
to offer me a secure asylum from espionage and
criticism. As it chanced, I had in my rambles come
upon an isolated dwelling in the very heart of these
lonel}^ moors, which I at once determined should be
my own. It was a two-roomed cottage, whicli had
once belonged to some shepherd, but which had long
been deserted, and was crumbling rapidly to ruin.
In the winter floods, the Gaster Beck, which runs
down Gaster Fell, where the little shieling stood, had
overs wept its bank and torn away a portion of the
wall. The roof, too, was in ill case, and the scattered
slates lay thick amongst the grass. Yet the main
shell of the house stood firm and true ; and it was
no great task for me to have all that was amiss set
right. Though not rich, I could yet afford to carry
out so modest a whim in a lordly way. There came
slaters and masons from Kirby-Malhouse, and soon
the lonely cottage upon Gaster Fell was as strong
and weather-tight as ever.

The two rooms I laid out in a widely different
manner — my own tastes are of a Spartan turn, and
the outer chamber was so planned as to accord with
them. An oil-stove by Rippingille of Birmingham
furnished me with the means of cooking ; while two

TEE SURGEON OF 0A8TER FELL. 285

great bags, the one of flour, and the other of pota-
toes, made me independent of all supplies from with-
out. In diet I had long been a Pythagorean^ so that
the scraggy long-limbed sheep which browsed upon
the wiry grass by the Gaster Beck had little to fear
from their new companion. A nine-gallon cask of
oil served me as a sideboard ; white a square table, a
deal chair, and a truckle-bed completed the list of my
domestic fittings. At the head of my couch hung
two unpainted shelves — the lower for .my dishes and
cooking utensils, the upper for the few portraits
which took me back to the little that was pleasant
in the long, wearisome toiling for wealth and for
pleasure which had marked the life I had left behind.
If this dAvelling-room of mine were plain even to
squalor, its poverty was more than atoned for by
the luxury of the chamber which was destined to
serve me as my study. I had ever held that it was
best for the mind to be surrounded by such objects
as would be in harmony w^ith the studies which oc-
cupied it, and that the loftiest and most ethereal
conditions of thought are only possible amid sur-
roundings which please the eye and gratify the
senses. The room which I had set apart for my
mystic studies was set forth in a style as gloomy
and majestic as the thoughts and aspirations with
which it was to harmonize. Both walls and ceilings
were covered with a paper of the richest and
glossiest black, on which was traced a lurid and
arabesque pattern of dead gold. A black velvet
curtain covered the single diamond-paned window ;
w^hile a thick, yielding carpet of the same material

286 TEE SVRGEO'S' OF GA8TER FELL.

prevented the sound of my own footfalls, as I paced
backward and forward, from breaking the current
of my thoughts. Along the cornices ran gold rods^
from which depended six pictures, all of the somber
and imaginative caste, which chimed best with my
fancy. Two, as I remember, were from the brush
of Fuseli ; one from Noel Paton ; one from Gustave
Dore ; two from Martin ; with a little water-color
by the incomparable Blake. From the center of
the ceiling hung a single gold thread, so thin as to
be scarce visible, but of great toughness. From this
SJivung a dove of the same metal, with wings out-
stretched. The bird was hollow, and contained
perfumed oil ; while a sylph-like figure, curiously
fashioned from pink crystal, hovered over the lamp,
and imparted a soft and rich glow to the light.
A brazen fireplace backed with malachite, two tiger
skins upon the carpet, a buhl table, and two reclm-
ing chairs in amber plush and ebony, completed the
furniture of my bijou study, save only that under
the window stretched the long book-shelves, which
contained the choicest works of those who have
busied themselves with the mystery of life.

Boehme, Swedenborg, Damton, Berto, Lacci,
Sinnett, Hardinge, Britten, Dunlop, Amberley,
Winwood Read, Des Mousseaux, Alan Kardec, Lep-
sius, Sepher, Toldo, and the Abbe Dubois— these
were some of those who stood marshaled between
my oaken shelves. When the lamp was lighted of
a night and the lurid, flickering light played over
the somber and bizarre surroundings, the effect was
all that I could wish. Nor was it lessened by the

THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL. 287

howling of the wind as it swept over the melancholy
waste around me. Here, at last, I thought, is a
back-eddy in life's hurried stream, where 1 may lie
in peace, forgetting and forgotten.

And yet it was destined that ere ever I reached
this quiet harbor I should learn that I was still one
of humankind, and that it is an ill thing to strive
to break the bond which binds us to our fellows.
It was but two nights before the date I had fixed
upon for my change of dwelling, when I was con-
scious of a bustle in the house beneath, with the
bearmg of heavy burdens up the creaking stair, and
the harsh voice of my landlady, loud in welcome
and protestations of joy. From time to time, amid
her whirl of words, I could hear a gentle and softly
modulated voice, which struck pleasantly upon my
ear after the long weeks during which I had listened
only to the rude dialect of the dalesmen. For an
hour I could hear the dialoo^ue beneath — the hio^h
voice and the low, with clatter of cup and clink of
spoon, until at last a light quick step passed my
study door, and I knew that my new fellow-lodger
had sought her room. Already my fears had been
fulfilled, and my studies the worse for her coming.
I vowed in my mind that the second sunset should
find me installed, safe from all such petty influences,
in my sanctuary at Gaster Fell.

On the morning after this incident I was up be-
times, as is my w^ont ; but I was surprised, on glanc-
ing from my window, to see that our new inmate
was earlier still. She was walking down the narrow
pathway which zigzags over the fell — a tall woman,

288 THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL.

slender, her head sunk upon her breast, her arms
filled with a bristle of wild flowers, which she had
gathered in her morning rambles. The white and
pink of her dress, and the touch of deep red ribbon
in her broad drooping hat, formed a pleasant dash
of color against the dun-tinted landscape. She was
some distance off when I first set eyes upon her,
yet 1 knew that this wandering woman could be
none other than our arrival of last night, for there
W' as a grace and refinement in her bearing which
marked her from the dwellers of the fells. Even as I
watched, she passed swiftly and lightly down the
pathway, and turning through the wicket gate, at the
further end of our cottage garden, she seated herself
upon the green bank which faced my window, and
strewing her flowers in front of her, set herself to
arrange them.

As she sat there, with the rising sun at her back,
and the glow of the morning spreading like an
aureole around her stately and well-poised head, I
could see that she was a woman of extraordinary
persona] beauty. Her face was Spanish rather than
English in its type — oval, olive, with black sparkling
eyes, and a sweetly sensitive mouth. From under
the broad straw hat two thick coils of blue-black
hair curved down on either side of her graceful,
queenly neck. I was surprised, as I watched her,
to see that her shoes and skirt bore witness to a
journey rather than to a mere morning ramble.
Her light dress was stained, wet, and bedraggled ;
while her boots were thick with the yellow soil of
the fells. Her face, too, wore a weary expression,

THE SURGEOX OF G ASTER FELL. 289

and her young beauty seemed to be clouded over
by the shadow of inward trouble. Even as I
watched her, she burst suddenly into wild weeping,
and throwing down her bundle oi flowers, ran swiftly
into the house.

Distrait as I was, and weary of the ways of the
world, I was conscious of a sudden pang of sym-
pathy and grief as 1 looked upon the spasm of des-
pair which seemed to convulse this strange and
beautiful woman. I bent to my books, and yet
my thoughts would ever turn to her proud, clear-
cut face, her weather-stained dress, her drooping
head, and the sorrow which lay in each line and
feature of her pensive face. Again and again I
found myself standing at my casement, and glanc-
ing out to see if there Avere signs of her return.
There on the green bank was the litter of golden
gorse and purple marsh-mallow where she had left
them ; but through the whole morning I neither
saw nor heard anything from her who had so sud-
denly aroused my curiosity and stirred my long-
slumbering emotions.

Mrs. Adams, my landlady, was wont to carry up
my frugal breakfast ; yet it was very rarely that I
allowed her to break the current of my thoughts, or
to draw my mind by her idle chatter from weightier
things. This morning, however, for once she found
me in a listening mood, and with little prompting,
proceeded to pour into my ears all that she knew of
our beautiful visitor.

" Miss Eva Cameron be her name, sir," she said ;
" but who she be, or where she come f ra, I know

290 THE SURGEON OF 0A8TEB FELL.

little more than yourseP. Maybe it was the same
reason that brought her to Kirkby-Malhouse as
fetched you there yoursel', sir.''

" Possibly," said 1, ignoring the covert question ;
*' but 1 should hardly have thought that Kirkby-Mal-
house was a place which offered any great attrac-
tions to a young lady."

" It's a gay place when the fair is on," said Mrs.
Adams ; " yet maybe it's just health and rest as the
young lady is seeking."

" Very likely," said I, stirring my coffee ; " and
no doubt some friend of yours has advised her to
seek them in your very comfortable apartments."

" Heh, sir ! " she cried, " there's the wonder of it.
The leddy has just come fra France ; and how her
folk came to learn of me is just a wonder. A week
ago, up comes a man to my door — a fine man, sir,
and a gentleman, as one could see with half an eye.
' You are Mrs. Adams,' says he. ' I engage your
rooms for Miss Cameron,' says he. 'She will be
here in a week,' says he ; and then off without a
word of terms. Last night there comes the young
leddy hersel' — soft-spoken and downcast, with a
touch of the French in her speech. But my sakes,
sir ! 1 must away and mak' her some tea, for she'll
feel lonesome- like, poor lamb, when she wakes under
a strange roof/'

THE SURGEON OF QASTER FELL. 291

CHAPTER ri.

HOW I WENT FORTH TO GASTER FELL.

I WAS still engaged upon my breakfast when I
heard the clatter of dishes and the landlady's foot-
fall as she passed toward her new lodger's room.
An instant afterward she had rushed down the
passage and burst in upon me with uplifted hand
and startled eyes. " Lord 'a mercy, sir! " she cried,
"and asking your pardon for troubling you, but
I'm feared o' the young leddy, sir ; she is not in her
room."

" Why, there she is," said I, standing up and
glancing through the casement. " She has gone
back for the flowers she left upon the bank."

" Oh, sir, see to her boots and her dress ! " cried
the landlady, wildly. " I wish her mother was here,
sir — I do. Where she has been is more than I ken,
but her bed has not been lain on this night."

" She has felt restless, doubtless, and went for a
walk, though the hour was certainly a strange one."

Mrs. Adams pursed her lip and shook her head.
But even as she stood at the casement, the girl be-
neath looked smilingly up at her and beckoned to
her with a merry gesture to open the window.

" Have you my tea there ? " she asked in a rich,
clear voice, with a touch of the mincing French
accent.

" It is m your room, miss."

" Look at my boots, Mrs. Adams ! " she cried,

292 THE SURGEON OF OASTEB FELL.

thrusting them out from under her skirt. " These
fells of yours are dreadful places — effroyable — one
inch, two inch ; never have I seen such mud ! My
dress, too — voila 1 "

" Eh, miss, but you are in a pickle," cried the
landlady, as she gazed down at the bedraggled
gown. " But you must be main weary and heavy
for sleep."

" No, no," she answered, laughing, " I care not for
sleep. What is sleep ? It is a little death — voila
tout. But for me to walk, to run, to breathe the
air — that is to live. I was not tired, and so all
night I have explored these fells of Yorkshire."

" Lord 'a mercy, miss, and where did you go ? "
asked Mrs. Adams.

She waved her hand round in a sweeping gesture
which included the whole western horizon. " There,"
she cried. " O comme elles sont tristes et sauvages,
ces collines ! But I have flowers here. You will
give me water, will you not ? They will wither
else." She gathered her treasures into her lap, and
a moment later we hear^ her light, springy footfall
upon the stair.

So she had been out all night, this strange woman.
What motive could have taken her from her snug
room on to the bleak, wind-swept hills ? Could it
be merely the restlessness, the love of adventure of
a young girl ? Or was there, possibly, some deeper
meaning in this nocturnal journey ?

I thought, as I paced my chamber, of her droop-
ing head, the grief upon her face, and the wild burst
of sobbing which I had overseen in the garden.

THE SURGEON OF OASTER FELL. 293

Her nightly mission, then, be it what it might, had
left no thought of pleasure behind it. And yet,
even as I walked, I could hear the merry tinkle of
her laughter, and her voice upraised in protest
against the motherly care wherewith Mrs. Adams
insisted upon her changing her mud-stained gar-
ments. Deep as were the mysteries which my
studies had taught me to solve, here was a human
problem which for the moment at least Tvas beyond
my comprehension. I had walked out on the moor
in the forenoon, and on my return, as I topped the
brow that overlooks the little town, I saw my
fellow-lodger some little distance off among the
gorse. She had raised a light easel in front of her,
and with papered board laid -across it, was preparing
to paint the magnificent landscape of rock and moor
which stretched away in front of her. As I watched
her I saw that she was looking anxiously to right
and left. Close by me a pool of water had formed
in a hollow. Dipping the cup of my pocket-flask
into it, I carried it across to her. " This is w^hat you
need, I think," said I, raising my cap and smiling.

" Merci, bien ! " she answered, pouring the water
into her saucer, " I was indeed in search of some."

" Miss Cameron, I believe," said I. " I am your
fellow-lodger. Upperton is my name. We must
introduce ourselves in these wilds if we are not to
be forever strangers."

" Oh, then, you live also with Mrs. Adams ! " she
cried. " I had thought that there w^ere none but
peasants in this strange place."

" I am a visitor, like yourself," I answered. " I

294 TEE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL.

am a student, and have come for the quiet and repose
which my studies demand."

" Quiet indeed ! " said she, glancing round at the
vast circle of silent moors, with the one tiny line of
gray cottages which sloped down beneath us.

" And yet not quiet enough," I answered, laugh-
ing, " for I have been forced to move further into
the fells for the absolute peace which I require."

" Have you, then, built a house upon the fells ? "
she asked, arching her eyebrows.

" I have, and hope within a few days to occupy
it."

" Ah, but that is triste," she cried. " And where is
it, then, this house Avhich you have built ? "

" It is over yonder," I answered. " See that
stream which lies like a silver band upon the distant
moor ? It is the Gaster Beck, and it runs through
Gaster Fell."

She started, and turned upon me her great dark,
questioning eyes with a look in which surprise, in-
credulity, and something akin to horror seemed to
be struggling for mastery.

" And you will live on the Gaster Fell ? " she
cried.

" So I have planned. But what do you know of
Gaster Fell, Miss Cameron ? " I asked. " I had
thought that you were a stranger in these parts."

" Indeed, I have never been here before," she
answered. " But I have heard my brother talk of
these Yorkshire moors ; and, if I mistake not, I have
heard him name this very one as the wildest and
most savage of them all."

THE SURGEOy OF GA8TER FELL. 295

" Yerj likely," said I, carelessly. "It is indeed a
dreary place."

" Then why live there ? " she cried, eagerly.
" Consider the loneliness, the barrenness, the Avant of
all comfort and of all aid, should aid be needed."

" Aid ! What aid should be needed on Gaster
Fell?"

She looked down and shrugged her shoulders.
" Sickness may come in all places," said she. " If
I were a man, I do not think I would live alone on
Gaster Fell."

"I have braved worse dangers than that," said
I, laughing ; " but I fear that your picture will be
spoiled, for the clouds are banking up, and already
I feel a few rain-drops."

Indeed, it was high time we were on our w^ay to
shelter, for even as I spoke there came the sudden,
steady swish of the shower. Laughing merrily, my
companion threw her light shawl over her head,
and, seizing picture and easel, ran with the lithe
grace of a young fawn down the furze-clad slope,
while I followed after with camp-stool and paint-
box.

* * If * * *

Deeply as my curiosity had been aroused by this
strange waif which had been cast up in our West
Riding hamlet, I found that with fuller knowledge
of her my interest was stimulated rather than
satisfied. Thrown together as we were, with no
thought in common with the good people who sur-
rounded us, it was not long before a friendship and

296 THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL.

confidence arose between us. Together we strolled
over the moors in the mornings, or stood upon the
Moorstone Crag to watch the red sun sinking be-
neath the distant waters of Morecambe. Of her-
self she spoke frankly and without reserve. Her
mother had died young, and her youth had been
spent in the Belgian convent from which she had
just finallj^ returned. Her father and one brother,
she told me, constituted the whole of her family.
Yet, when the talk chanced to turn upon the causes
which had brought her to so lonely a dwelling, a
strange reserve possessed her, and she would either
relapse into silence or turn the talk into another
channel. For the rest, she was an admirable com-
panion— sympathetic, well read, with the quick,
piquant daintiness of thought which she had brought
with her from her foreign training. Yet the shadow
which I had observed in her on the first morning
that I had seen her was never far from her mind,
and I have seen her merriest laugh frozen suddenly
upon her lips, as though some dark thought lurked
within her, to choke down the mirth and gaiety of
her youth.

It was the eve of my departure from Kirkby-
Malhouse that w^e sat upon the green bank in the
garden, she with dark, dreamy eyes looking sadly out
over the somber fells ; while I, with a book upon my
knee, glanced covertly at her lovely profile, and
marveling to myself how twenty years of life could
have stamped so sad and wistful an expression
upon it.
. ** You have read much ? " I remarked at last.

TEE SURGEON OF 0A8TER FELL. 297

" "Women have opportunities now such as their
mothers never knew. Have you ever thought of
going further — or seeking a course of college or
even a learned profession 'i "

She smiled wearily at the thought.

"1 have no aim, no ambition," she said. " My
future is black — confused — a chaos. My life is like
to one of these paths upon the fells. You have
seen them, Monsieur Upperton. They are smooth
and straight and clear where they begin ; but soon
they wind to left and wind to right, and so mid
rocks and over crags until they lose themselves in
some quagmire. At Brussels my path was straight ;
but now, mon Dieu ! who is there can tell me where
it leads ? "

" It might take no prophet to do that, Miss Cam-
eron," quoth I, with the fatherly manner which two
score years may show toward one. " If I may read
your life, I would venture to say that you were des-
tined to fulfil the lot of women — to make some
good man happy, and to shed around, in some wider
circle, the pleasure which your society has given me
since first I knew you."

" I will never marry," said she, with a sharp de-
cision, which surprised and somewhat amused me.

" Not marry — and why ? "

A strange look passed over her sensitive features,
and she plucked nervously at the grass on the bank
beside her.

" I dare not," said she in a voice that quivered
with emotion.

"Dare not?''

296 THE SURGEON OF G ASTER FELL.

" It is not for me. I have other things to do.
That path of which I spoke is one which I must
tread alone."

" But this is morbid," said I. " Why should your
lot, Miss Cameron, be separate from that of my
own sisters, or the thousand other young ladies
whom every season brings out into the world ?
But perhaps it is that you have a fear and distrust
of mankind. Marriage brings a risk as well as a
happiness."

" The risk would be with the man who married
me," she cried. And then in an instant, as though
she had said toe much, she sprung to her feet and
drew her mantle round her. " The night air is
chill, Mr. Upperton," said she, and so swept swiftly
away, leaving me to muse over the strange words
which had fallen from her lips.

I had feared that this woman's coming might
draw me from my studies, but never had I antici-
pated that my thoughts and interests could have
been changed in so short a time. I sat late that
night in my little study, pondering over my future
course. She was young, she was fair, she was al-
luring, both from her own beauty and from the
strange mystery that surrounded her. And yet
what was she, that she should turn me from the
hig^h studies that filled my mind, or change me
from the line of life which I had marked out for
myself ? I Avas no boy, that I should be swayed
and shaken by a dark eye or a woman's smile, and
yet three days had passed and my work lay where
I had left it. Clearly, it was time that I should

THE SURGEON OF 0A8TER FELL. 299

go. I set my teeth and vowed that another day
should not have passed before I should have snapped
this newly formed tie, and sought the lonely retreat
which awaited me upon the moors. Breakfast was
hardly over in the morning before a peasant dragged
up to the door the rudo hand-cart which was to
convey my few personal belongings to my new
dwelling. My fellow-lodger had kept her room;
and steeled as my mind was against her influence,
I was yet conscious of a little throb of disappoint-
ment that she should allow me to depart without a
word of farewell. My hand-cart with its load of
books had already started, and I, having shaken
hands with Mrs. Adams, was about to follow it,
when there was a quick scurry of feet on the stair,
and there she was beside me all panting with her
own haste.

" Then you go — you really go ? " said she.

" My studies call me."

" And to Gaster Fell ? " she asked.

" Yes ; to the cottage which I have built there."

" And you will live alone there ? "

'' With my hundred companions who lie in that
cart.''

*' Ah, books ! " she cried, with a pretty shrug of her
graceful shoulders. " But you will make me a
promise ? "

" What is it ? " I asked, in surprise.

" It is a small thing. You will not refuse me ?"

" You have but to ask it."

She bent forward her beautiful face with an ex-
pression of the most intense earnestness. ' You

300 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL.

will bolt your door at night ? " said she ; and was
gone ere I could say a word in answer to her ex-
traordinary request.

It was a strange thing for me to find myself at last
dul}'^ installed in my lonely dwelling. Forme, now,
the horizon was bounded bv the barren circle of

ft/

wiry, unprofitable grass, patched over with furze
bushes and scarred by the profusion of Nature's
gaunt and granite ribs. A duller, wearier waste I
have never seen ; but its dulness was its very
charm. What was there in the faded, rolling hills,
or in the blue, silent arch of heaven to distract my
thoughts from the high thoughts which engrossed
them ? I had left the drove of mankind, and had
wandered away, for better or worse, upon a side
path of my own. With them I had hoped to leave
grief, disappointment, and emotion, and all other
petty human Weaknesses. To live for knowledge,
and knowledge alone, that was the highest aim which
life could offer. And yet upon the very first night
which I spent at Gaster Fell there came a strange
incident to lead my thoughts back once more to the
world which I had left behind me.

It had been a sullen and sultry evening, with
great livid cloud-banks mustering in the west. As
the night wore on, the air within my little cabin be-
came closer and more oppressive. A weight seemed
to rest upon my brow and my chest. From far
away the low rumble of thunder came moaning
over the moor. Unable to sleep, I dressed, and
standing at my cottage door, looked on the black
solitude which surrounded me. There was no breeze

THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL. 301

below ; but above, the clouds were sweeping majes-
tically across the sky, with half a moon peeping at
times between the rifts. The ripple of the Gaster
Beck and the dull hooting of a distant owl were the
only sounds which broke upon my ear. Taking the
narrow sheep-path which ran by the stream, I
strolled along it for some hundred yards, and had
turned to retrace my steps,when the moon was finally
buried beneath an ink-black cloud, and the darkness
deepened so suddenly that I could see neither the path
at my feet, the stream upon my right, nor the rocks
upon my left. I was standing groping about in the
thick gloom, when there came a crash of thunder
with a flash of lightning which lighted up the whole
vast fell, so that every bush and rock stood out clear
and hard in the livid light. It was but for an in-
stant, and yet that momentary view struck a thrill
of fear and astonishment through me, for in my very
path, not twenty yards before me, there stood a
woman, the livid light beating upon her face and
showing up every detail of her dress and features.
There was-no mistaking those dark eyes, that tall,
graceful figure. It was she — Eva Cameron, the
woman whom I thought I had forever left. For an
instant I stood petrified, marveling whether this
could indeed be she, or whether it was some figment
conjured up by my excited brain. Then I ran swiftly
forward in the direction where I had seen her, call-
ing loudly upon her, but without reply. Again I
called, and again no answer came back, save the
melancholy wail of the owl. A second flash illumi-
nated the landscape, and the moon burst out from

302 TEE SURGEON OF 0A8TER FELL,

behind its cloud. But I could not, though I climbed
upon a knoll which overlooked the whole moor, see
any sign of this strange midnight wanderer. For
an hour or more I traversed the fell, and at last found
myself back at my little cabin, still uncertain as to
whether it had been a woman or a shadow upon
which I gazed.

For the three days which followed this midnight
storm, I bent myself doggedly to my work. From
early morn till late at night I immured myself in
my little study, w^ith my whole thoughts buried in
my books and my parchments. At last it seemed
to me that I had reached that haven of rest, that
oasis of study for which I had so often sighed. But,
alas ! for my hopes and my plannings ! Within a
week of my flight from Kirkby-Malhouse a strange
and most unforeseen series of events not only broke
in upoti the calm of my existence, but filled me
with emotions so acute as to drive all other consid-
erations from my mind.

CHAPTER III.

OF THE GRAY COTTAGE IN THE GLEN.

It was either on the fourth or the fifth day after
I had taken possession of my cottage that I was
astonished to hear footsteps upon the grass outside,
quickly followed by a crack, as from a stick, upon
the door. The explosion of an infernal machine
would hardly have surprised or discomfited me more.

THE SURGEON OF G ASTER FELL. 303-

I had hoped to have shaken off all intrusion forever,
yet here was somebody beating at my door with as
little ceremony as if it had been a village ale-house.
Hot with anger, I fiung down my book, withdrew
the bolt just as my visitor had raised his stick to
renew his rough application for admittance. He
was a tall, powerful man, tawny-bearded and deep-
chested, clad in a loose-fitting suit of twopd, cut for
comfort rather than elegance. As he stood in the
shimmering sunlight, I took in every feature of his
face. The large, fleshy nose ; the steady blue eyes,
with their thick thatch of overhanging brows ; the
broad forehead, all knitted and lined with furrows,
which were strangely at variance with his youthful
bearing. In spite of his weather-stained felt hat,
and the colored handkerchief slung round his mus-
cular brown neck, I could see at a glance he w^as a
man of breeding and education. I had been pre-
pared for some wandering shepherd or uncouth
tramp, but this apparition fairly disconcerted me.

"You look astonished, said he, with a smile.
" Did you think, then, that you were the only man
in the world with a taste for solitude ? You see
that there are other hermits in the wilderness
besides yourself."

" Do you. mean to say that you live here ? " I
asked in no conciliatory voice.

" Up yonder," he answered, tossing his head back-
ward. " I thought as we were neighbors, Mr. Upper-
ton, that I could not do less than look in and see if
I could assist you in any way."

" Thank you," said I, coldly, standing with my

304 THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL.

hand upon the latch of the door. " I am a man of
simple tastes, and you can do nothing for me. You
have the advantage of me in knowing my name."

He appeared to be chilled by my ungracious
manner.

'' I learned it from the masons who were at work
here," he said. " As for me, I am a surgeon, the
surgeon of Gaster Fell. That is the name I have
gone by in these parts, and it serves as well as
another."

" Not much room for practise here ? " I observed.

" Not a soul except yourself for miles on either
side."

" You appear to have had need of some assistance
yourself ? " I remarked, glancing at a broad white
splash, as from the recent action of some powerful
acid, upon his sunburnt cheek.

" That is nothing," he answered, curtly, turning
his face half round to hide the mark. " I must get
back, for I have a companion who is waiting for
me. If I can ever do anything for you, pray let me
know. You have only to follow the beck upward
for a mile or so to find my place. Have you a bolt
on the inside of your door ? "

" Yes," I answered, rather startled at this ques-
tion.

"Keep it bolted, then," he said. " The fell is a
strange place. You never know who may be about.
It is as well to be on the safe side. Good-by."
He raised his hat, turned on his heel, and lounged
away along the bank of the little stream.

I was still standing with my hand upon the latch.

THE SURGEON OF G ASTER FELL. 305

gazing after my unexpected visitor, when I be-
came aware of yet another dweller in the wilder-
ness. Some distance along the path which the
stranger was taking there lay a great gray boulder,
and leaning against this was a small, wizened man,
who stood erect as the other approached, and ad-
vanced to meet him. The two talked for a minute
or more, the taller man nodding his head frequently
in my direction, as though describing what had
passed between us. Then they walked on together,
and disappeared in a dip of the fell. Presently I
saw them ascending once more some rising ground
further on. My acquaintance had thrown his arm
round his elderly friend, either from affection or
from a desire to aid him up the steep incline. The
square, burly figure and its shriveled, meager com-
panion stood out against the sky-line, and, turning
their faces, they looked back at me. At the sight,
I slammed the door, lest they should be encouraged
to return. But when I peeped from the window
some minutes afterward, I perceived that they were
gone.

For the remainder of that day I strove in vam to
recover that indifference to the world and its ways
which is essential to mental abstraction. Do what
I would, my thoughts ran upon the solitary surgeon
and his shriveled companion. What did he mean by
his question as to my bolt ? and how cajne it that
the last words of Eva Cameron were to the same
sinister effect. Again and again I speculated as to
what train of causes could have led two men so dis-
similar in age and appearance to dwell together on

14— Vol. 1

306 THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL.

the wild, inhospitable fells. Were they, like myself,
immersed in some engrossing study ? or could it be
that a companionship in crime had forced them from
the haunts of men ? Some cause there must be, and
that a potent one, to induce the man of education
to turn to such an existence. It was only now that
I began to realize that the crowd of the city is in-
finitely less disturbing than the unit of the country.
All day I bent over the Egyptian papyrus upon
which I was engaged ; but neither the subtile reason-
ings of the ancient philosopher of Memphis, nor
the mystic meaning which lay in his pages, could
raise my mind from the things of earth. Evening
was drawing in before I threw my work aside in
despair. My heart was bitter against this man for
his intrusion. Standing by the beck which purled
past the door of my cabin, I cooled my heated brow,
and thought the matter over. Clearly it was the
small mystery hanging over these neighbors of mine
which had caused my mind to run so persistently
on them. That cleared up, they would no longer
cause an obstacle to my studies. What was to
hinder me, then, from walking in the direction of
their dwelling, and observing for myself, without
permitting them to suspect my presence, what
manner of men they might be ? Doubtless, their
mode of life would be found to admit of some simple
and prosaic explanation. In any case, the evening
was fine, and a walk would be bracing for mind and
body. Lighting my pipe, I set off over the moors
in the direction which they had taken. The sun
lay low and red in the west, flushing the heather

THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL. 307

with a deeper pink, and mottling the broad heaven
with every hue, from the palest green at the zenith,
to the richest crimson along the fair horizon. It
might have been the great palette upon which the
world-painter had mixed his primeval colors. On
either side, the giant peaks of Ingleborough and
Pennigent looked down upon the gray, melancholy
country which stretches between them. As I ad-
vanced, the rude fells ranged themselves upon right
and left, forming a well-defined valley, down the
center of which meandered the little brooklet. On
either side, parallel lines of gray rock marked the
level of some ancient glacier, the moraine of which
had formed the broken ground about my dwelling.
Eagged boulders, precipitous scarps, and twisted,
fantastic rocks, all bore witness to the terrible
power of the old ice-field, and showed where its
frosty fingers had ripped and rent the solid lime-
stones.

About half-way down this wild glen there stood
a small clump of gnarled and stunted oak-trees.
From behind these, a thin dark column of smoke
rose into the still evening air. Clearly this marked
the position o2 my neighbor's house. Trending
away to the left, I was able to gain the shelter of
a line of rocks, and so reach a spot from which I
could command a view of the building without ex-
posing myself to any risk of being observed. It
was a small, slate-covered cottage, hardly larger
than the boulders among which it lay. Like my
own cabin, it showed signs of having been con-
structed for the use of some shepherd ; but, unlike

308 TEE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL.

mine, no pains had been taken by tbe tenants to
improve and enlarge it. Two little peeping win-
dows, a cracked and weather-beaten door, and a
discolored barrel for catching the rain-water, were
the only external objects from Avhich I might draw
deductions as to the dwellers withir. Yet even in
these there was food for thought; for as I drew
nearer, still concealing myself behind the ridge, I
saw that thick bars of iron covered the windows,
while the old door was slashed and plated with the
same metal. These strange precautions, together
with the wild surroundings and unbroken solitude,
gave an indescribably ill omen and fearsome charac-
ter to the solitary building. Thrusting my pipe into
my pocket, I crawled upon my hands and knees
through the gorse and ferns until I was within a
hundred yards of my neighbor's door. There, find-
ing that I could not approach nearer without fear of
detection, I crouched down, and set myself to watch.
I had hardly settled into my hiding-place, when
the door of the cottage swung open, and the man
who had introduced himself to me as the surgeon of
Gaster Fell came out, bareheaded, with a spade in
his hands. In front of the door there was a small
cultivated patch containing potatoes, pease, and other
forms of green stuff, and here he proceeded to busy
himself, trimming, weeding, and arranging, sing-
ing the while in a powerful though not very musi-
cal voice. He was all engrossed in his work, with
his back to the cottage, when there emerged from the
half-open door the same attenuated creature whom
1 had seen in the morning. I could perceive now

TEE SURGEON OF OASTER FELL, 309

that he was a man of sixty, wrinkled, bent, and fee-
ble, with sparse, grizzled hair, and long, colorless face.
With a cringing, sidelong gait, he shuffled toward his
companion, who was unconscious of his approach
until he was close upon him. His light footfall or
his breathing may have finally given notice of his
proximity, for the worker sprung round and faced
him. Each made a quick step toward the other, as
though in greeting, and then — even now I feel the
horror of the instant — the tall man rushed upon and
knocked his companion to the earth, then whipping
up his body, ran with great speed over the interven-
ing ground and disappeared with his burden into the
house.

Case-hardened as I was by my varied life, the sud-
denness and violence of the thing made me shudder.
The man's age, his feeble frame, his humble and dep-
recating manner, all cried shame against the deed.
So hot was my anger, that I was on the point of
striding up to the cabin, unarmed as I was, when
the sound of voices from within showed me that the
victim had recovered. The sun had sunk beneath
the horizon, and all was gray, save a red feather in the
cap of Pennigent. Secure in the failing light, I ap-
proached near and strained ray ears to catch what
was passing. I could hear the high, querulous voice
of the eider man, and the deep, rough monotone of
his assailant, mixed with a strange metallic jangling
and clanking. Presently the surgeon came out, lock-
ing the door behind him, and stamped up and down
in the twilight, pulling at his hair and brandishing
his arms, like a man demented. Then he set off,

^10 TEE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL,

walking rapidly up the valley, and I soon lost sight
of him among the rocks. When the sound of his
feet had died away in the distance, I drew nearer
to the cottage. The prisoner within Avas still pour-
ing forth a stream of words, and moaning from time
to time like a man in pain. These words resolved
themselves, as I approached, into prayers — shrill,
voluble prayers, pattered forth with the intense
earnestness of one who sees impending an imminent
danger. There was to me something inexpressibly
awesome in this gush of solemn entreaty from the
lonely sufferer, meant for no human ear, and jarring
upon the silence of the night. I was still ponder-
ing whether I should mix myself in the affair or
not, when 1 heard in the distance the sound of the
surgeon's returning footfall. At that I drew my-
self up quickly by the iron bars and glanced in
through the diamond-paned window. The interior
of the cottage was lighted up by a lurid glow, com-
ing from what I afterward discovered to be a
chemical furnace. By its rich light I could distin-
guish a great litter of retorts, test-tubes, and con-
densers, which sparkled over the table, and threw
strange, grotesque shadows on the wall. On the
further side of the room was a wooden frame- work
resembling a hencoop, and in this, still absorbed in
prayer, knelt the man whose voice I heard. The red
glow beating upon his upturned face made it stand
out from the shadow like a painting from Rem-
brandt, showing up every wrinkle upon the parch-
ment-like skin. I had but time for a fleeting
glance j then dropping from the window i made

TUE SURGEON OF CASTER FELL. 811

off through the rocks and the heather, nor slackened
my pace until I found myself back in my cabin once
more. There I threw myself upon my couch, more
disturbed and shaken than I had ever thought to
feel again.

Long into the watches of the night I tossed and
tumbled on my uneasy pillow. A strange theory
had framed itself within me, suggested by the elabo-
rate scientific apparatus which I had seen. Could
it be that this surgeon had some profound and un-
holy experiments on hand, which necessitated the
taking, or at least the tampering with the life of
his companion ? Such a supposition would account
for the loneliness of his life ; but how could I rec-
oncile it with the close friendship which had ap-
peared to exist between the pair no longer ago than
that very morning ? Was it grief or madness which
had made the man tear his hair and wring his
hands when he emerged from the cabin? And
sweet Eva Cameron, was she also a partner to this
somber business? Was it to my grim neighbors
that she made her strange nocturnal journeys ? and
if so, what bond could there be to unite so strangely
assorted a trio ? Try as I might, I could come to
no satisfactory conclusion upon these points. When
at last I dropped into a troubled slumber, it was
only to see once more in my dreams the strange
episodes of the evening, and to wake at dawn un-
refreshed and weary.

Such doubts as I might have had as to whether I
had indeed seen my former fellow-lodger upon the
night of the thunder-storm, were finally resolved

312 THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL.

that morning. Strolling along clown the path
-which led to the fell, I saw in one spot where the
^'ound was soft the impressions of a foot — the
small, dainty foot of a well- booted woman. That
tiny heel and high instep could have 'belonged to
none other than my companion of Kirkby-Malhouse.
I followed her trail for some distance till it lost
itself among hard and stony ground ; but it still
pointed, as far as I could discern it, to the lonely
and ill-omened cottage. "What power could there
be to draw this tender girl, through wind and rain
and darkness, across the fearsome moors' to that
strange rendezvous ?

But why should I let my mind run upon such
things? Had I not prided myself that I lived a
life of my own, beyond the sphere of my fellovr-
mortals ? Were all my plans and my resolutions to
be sliaken because the v^ays of my neighbors were
strange to me ? It was unworth}^, it was puerile.
By constant and unremitting effort, I set myself to
cast out these distracting influences, and to return
to my former calm. It was no easy task. But
after some days, during which I never stirred from
my cottage, I had almost succeeded in regaining
my peace of mind, when a fresh incident whirled
my thoughts back into their old channel.

I have said that a little beck flowed down the
valley and past my very door. A week or so after
the doings which I have described, I was seated by
my window, when I perceived something white
drifting slowly down the stream. My first thought
was that it was a drowning sheep ; but picking up

TEE 8URGE0X OF GA8TER FELL. 313

my stick, 1 strolled to the bank and hooked it ashore.
On examination it proved to be a large sheet, torn
and tattered, with the initials J. C. in the corner.
What gave it its sinister significance, however, was
that from hem to hem it was all dabbled and dis-
colored with blood. In parts where the water had
soaked it, this was but a discoloration ; while in
others the st^-.ins showed they were of recent origin.
I shuddered as I gazed at it. It could but have come
from the lonely cottage in the glen. What dark
and violent deed had left this gruesome trace be-
hind it? I had flattered myself that the human
family was as nothing to me, and yet my whole
being was absorbed now in curiosit}^ and resentment.
How could I remain neutral when such things were
doing within a mile of me? I felt that the old
Adam was too strong in me, and that I must solve
this mystery. Shutting the door of my cabin be-
hind me, I set off up the glen in the direction of the
surgeon's cabin. I had not gone far before I per-
ceived the very man himself. lie was walking
rapidly along the hill-side, beating the furze bushes
with a cudgel and bellowing like a madman. Indeed,
at the sight of him, the doubts as to his sanity which
had arisen in my mind were strengthened and con-
firmed. As he approached, I noticed that his left
arm was suspended in a sling. On perceiving me,
he stood irresolute, as though uncertain whether to
come over to me or not. I had no desire for an in-
terview with him, however; so I hurried past him,
on which he continued on his way, still shouting
and striking about with his club. When he had

314 THE SURGEON OF G ASTER FELL.

disappeared over the fells, I made my way down to
his cottage, determined to find some clew to what
had occurred. I was surprised, on reaching it, to
find the iron-plated door flung wide open. The
ground immediately outside it was marked with the
signs of a struggle. The chemical apparatus within
and the furniture were all dashed about and shat-
tered. Most suggestive of all, the sinister wooden
cage was stained with blood-marks, and its unfor-
tunate occupant had disappeared. My heart was
heavy for the little man, for I was assured I should
never see him in this world more. There were
many gray cairns of stones scattered over the valley.
1 ran my eye over them, and wondered which of
them concealed the traces of this last act which
ended the long tragedy.

There was nothing in the cabin to throw any
light upon the identity of my neighbors. The room
was stuffed with chemicals and delicate philosophi-
cal instruments. In one corner, a small book-case
contained a choice selection of works of science.
In another was a pile of geological specimens col-
lected from the limestone. My eye ran rapidly
over these details ; but I had no time to make a
more thorough examination, for I feared lest the
surgeon should return and find me there. Leaving
the cottage, I hastened homeward with a weight at
my heart. A nameless shadow hung over the lonely
gorge — the heavy shadow of unexpiated crime,
making the grim fells look grimmer, and the wild
moors more dreary and forbidding. My mind
wavered whether I should send to Lancaster to ao-

THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL. 315

quaint the police of what I had seen. My thoughts
rocoiled at the prospect of becoming a witness in a
cause celebre, and having an over busy counsel or an
officious press peeping and prying into my own
modes of life. Was it for this I had stolen away
from my fellow-mortals and settled in these lonely
wilds? The thought of publicity was repugnant to
me. It was best, perhaps, to wait and watch with-
out taking any decided step until I had come to a
more definite conclusion as to what I had heard.

I caught no glimpse of the surgeon upon my
homeward journey ; but when I reached my cottage,
I was astonished and indignant to find that some-
body had entered it in my absence. Boxes had been
pulled out from under the bed, the curtains disar-
ranged, the chairs drawn out from the wall. Even
my study had not been safe from this rough in-
truder, for the prints of a heavy boot were plainly
visible on the ebony-black carpet. I am not a pa-
tient man at the best of times ; but this invasion and
systematic examination of my household effects
stirred up every drop of gall in my composition.
Swearing under my breath, I took my old cavalry
saber down from its nail and passed my finger along
the edge. There was a great notch in the center
where it had jarred up against the collar-bone of a
Bavarian artilleryman the day we beat Van Der
Tann back from Orleans. It was still sharp enough,
however, to be serviceable. I placed it at the head
of my bed, within reach of my arm, ready to give
a keen greeting to the next uninvited visitor who
might arrive.

816 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL,

CHAPTER lY.

OF THE MAN WHO CAME IN THE NIGHT.

The night set in gusty and tempestuous, and the
moon was all girt with ragged clouds. The wind
blew in melancholy gusts, sobbing and sighing over
the moor, and setting all the gorse-bushes a-groan-
ing. From time to time a little sputter of rain
pattered up against the window-pane. I sat until
near midnight glancing over the fragment on im-
mortality by lamblichus, the Alexandrian platonist,
of whom the Emperor Julian said that he was
posterior to Plato in time, but not in genius. At
lastj shutting up my book, I opened my door and
took a last look at the dreary fell and still more
dreary sky. As I protruded my head, a swoop of
wind caught me, and sent the red ashes of my pipe
sparkling and dancing through the darkness. At
the same moment the moon shone brilliantly out
from between two clouds, and I saw, sitting on the
hill-side, not two hundred yards from my door, the
man who called himself the surgeon of Gaster Fell.
He was squatted among the. heather, his elbows
upon his knees, and his chin resting upon his hands,
as motionless as a stone, with his gaze fixed steadily
upon the door of my dwelling.

At the sight of this ill-omened sentinel, a chill of
horror and of fear shot through me, for his gloomy
and mysterious associations had cast a glamour
round the man, and the hour and place were in keep-

THE SURGEON OP CAISTER FELL. 817

ing with his sinister presence. In a moment, how-
ever, a manly glow of resentment and selt-confidence
drove this pretty emotion from my mind, and I
strode fearlessly in his direction. He rose as 1 ap-
proached, and faced me, with the moon shining on
his grave, bearded face and glittering on his eye-
balls. " What is the meaning of this ? " I cried, as
I came upon him. " What right have you to play
the spy on me ? "

I could see the flush of anger rise on his face.
" Your stay in the country has made you forget
your manners," he said. " The moor is free to all."

" You will say next that my house is free to all,"
I said, hotly. " You have had the impertinence to
ransack it in my absence this afternoon."

He started, and his features showed the most in-
tense excitement. " I swear to you that I had no
hand in it," he cried. " I have never set foot in
your house in my life. Oh, sir, sir, if you will but
believe me, there is a danger hanging over you, and
vou would do well to be careful."

" I have had enough of you," I said. " 1 saw the
cowardly blow you struck when you thought no
human eye rested upon you. I have been to your
cottage, too, and know all that it has to tell. If
there is a law in England, you shall hang for what
you have done. As to me, I am an old soldier, sir,
and I am armed. I shall not fasten my door.
But if you or any other villain attempt to cross my
threshold, it shall be at your own risk." With
these words I swung round upon my heel and strode
into my cabin. When I looked back at him fi*om

318 THE SURGEON OF G ASTER FELL,

the door he was still looking at me, a gloomy figure
among the heather, with his head sunk low upon his
breast. I slept fitfull}^ all that night ; but I heard
no more of this strange sentinel without, nor was
he to be seen when I looked out in the morning.

For two days the wind freshened and increased
with constant squalls of rain, until on the third night
the most furious storm was raging which I can ever
recollect in England. The thunder roared and
rattled overhead, while the incessant lightning
flashes illuminated the heavens. The wind blew in-
termittently, now sobbing away into a calm, and
then, of a sudden, beating and howling at my window-
panes until the glasses rattled in their frames. The
air was charged with electricity, and its peculiar
influence, combined with the strange episodes with
which I had been recently connected, made me mor-
bidly wakeful and acutely sensitive. I felt that it
was useless to go to bed, nor could I concentrate my
mind sufficiently to read a book^ I turned my lamp
half down to moderate the glare, and leaning back
in my chair, I gave myself up to reverie. I must
have lost all perception of time, for I have no recol-
lection how long I sat there on the border-land be-
twixt thought and slumber. At last, about three or
possibly, four o'clock, I came to myself with a start
— not only came to myself, but with every sense
and nerve upon the strain. Looking round my
chamber in the dim light, I could not see anything
to justify my sudden trepidation. The homely room
the rain-blurred window, and the rude wooden door
were all as they had been. I had begun to persuade

THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL. 319

myself that some half-formed dream had sent that
vague thrill through my nerves, when in a moment
I became conscious of what it was. It was a sound
— the sound of a human step outside my solitary
cottage.

Amid the thunder and the rain and the wind, I
could hear it — a dull, stealthy footfall, now on the
grass, now on the stones — occasionally stopping
entirely, then resumed, and ever drawing nearer. I
sat breathlessly, listening to the eerie sound. It had
stopped now at my very door, and was replaced by
a panting and gasping, as of one who has traveled
fast and far. Only the thickness of the door sepa-
rated me from this hard-breathing, light-treading
night-walker. I am no coward ; but the wildness of
the night, and the vague warning which I had had,
and the proximity of this strange visitor, so unnerved
me that my mouth was too dry for speech. I
stretched out my hand, however, and grasped my
saber, with my eyes still bent upon the door. I
prayed in my heart that the thing, whatever it might
be, would but knock or threaten or hail me, or give
any clew as to its character. Any known danger
was better than this awful silence, broken only by
the rhythmic panting.

By the flickering light of the expiring lamp I
could see that the latch of my door was twitching,
as though a gentle pressure was exerted on it from
without. Slowly, slowly, it rose, until it was free
of the catch, and then there was a pause of a quar-
ter minute or more, while I still sat silent, with
dilated eyes and drawn saber. Then, very slowly,

320 THE SURGEON OF GA8TER FELL.

the door began to revolve upon its hinges, and the
keen air of the night came whistling through the
slit. Yery cautiously it was pushed open, so that
never a sound came from the rusty hinges. As the
aperture enlarged, I became aware of a dark,
shadowy figure upon my threshold, and of a pale
face that looked in at me. The features were
human, but the eyes were not. They seemed to
burn through the darkness with a greenish brilliancy
of their own ; and in their baleful, shifty glare I
was conscious of the very spirit of murder. Spring-
ing from my chair, I had raised my naked sword,
when, with a wild shouting, a second figure dashed
up to my door. At its approach my shadowy visitant
uttered a shrill cry, and fled away across the fells,
yelping like a beaten hound. The two creatures
were swallowed up in the tempest from which they
had emerged as if they were the very genii of the
beating wind and the howling rain.

Tingling with my recent fear, I stood at my door,
peering through the night with the discordant cry
of the fugitives still ringing in my ears. At that
moment a vivid flash of lightning illuminated the
whole landscape and made it as clear as dsij. By its
light I saw far away upon the hill-side two dark
figures pursuing each other with extreme rapidity
across the fells. Even at that distance the contrast
between them forbid all doubt as to their identity.
The first was the small, elderly man whom I had
supposed to be dead ; the second was my neighbor,
the surgeon. For an instant they stood out clear
and hard in the unearthly light ; in the next, the

TEE SURGEON OF OASTER FELL. 321

darkness had closed over them, and they were gone.
As I turned to re-enter my chamber, ray foot rat-
tled against something on my threshold. Stooping,
I found it was a straight knife, fashioned entirely
of lead, and so soft and brittle that it was a strange
choice for a weapon. To render it more harmless,
the top had been cut square off. The edge, how-
ever, had been assiduously sharpened against a
stone, as was evident from the markings upon it, so
that it was still a dangerous implement in the grasp
of a determined man. It had evidently dropped
from the fellow's hand at the moment when the
sudden coming of the surgeon had driven him to
flight. There could no longer be a doubt as to the
object of his visit.

And what was the meaning of it all? you ask.
Many a drama which I have come across in my
wandering life, some as strange and as striking as
this one, has lacked the ultimate explanation which
you demand. Fate is a grand weaver of tales ; but
she ends them, as a rule, in defiance of all artistic
laws, and with an unbecoming want of regard for
literary propriety. As it happens, however, I have
a letter before me as I write which I may add with-
out comment, and which will clear all that may re-
main dark.

" KiRKBY Lunatic Asylum,
''Sept. 4:, 1885.

" Sir, — I am deeply conscious that some apology
and explanation is due to you for the very startling
and, in your eyes, mysterious events which have

322 THE SURGEON OF GASTER FELL.

recenth^ occurred, and which have so seriously in-
terfered with the retired existence which you desire
to lead. I should have called upon you on the
morning after the recapture of my father ; but my
knowledge of your dislike to visitors, and also of
— you will excuse my sajang it — your very violent
temper, led me to think that it was better to com-
municate with you by letter. On the occasion of
our last interview I should have told you what I
tell you now ; but your allusions to some crime of
which you considered me guilty, and your abrupt
departure, prevented me from saying much that
was on my lips.

" My poor father was a hard-working general
practitioner in Birmingham, where his name is still
remembered and respected. About ten years ago
he began to show signs of mental aberration, which
we were inclined to put down to overwork and the
effects of a sunstroke. Feeling my own incompe-
tence to pronounce upon a case of such importance,
I at once sought the highest advice in Birmingham
and London. Among others we consulted the emi-
nent alienist, Mr. Fraser Brown, who pronounced
mv father's case to be intermittent in its nature,
but dangerous during the parox3^sms. ' It may take
a homicidal, or it may take a religious turn,' he
said ; ' or it may prove to be a mixture of both.
For months he may be as well as 3^ou or me, and
then in a moment he may break out. You will
incur a great responsibility if you leave him without
supervision.'

" The result showed the justice of the specialist's

THE SURGEOK OF GASTER FELL. 323

diagnosis. My poor father's disease rapidly assumecr
both a religious and homicidal turn, the attacks
coining on without warning after months of sanity.
It would weary you were I to describe the terrible
experiences which his family have undergone. Suf-
fice it that, by the blessing of God, we have suc-
ceeded in keeping his poor crazed fingers clear of
blood. My sister Eva I sent to Brussels, and I de-
voted myself entirely to his case. He has an intense
dread of madhouses ; and in his sane intervals would
beg and pray so piteously not to be condemned to
one, that I could never find the heart to resist him.
At last, however, his attacks became so acute and
dangerous that I determined, for the sake of those
about me, to remove him from the toAvn to the lone-
liest neighborhood that I could find. This proved
to be Gaster Fell ; and there he and I set up house
together.

" I had a sufficient competence to keep me, and
being devoted to chemistry, I was able to pass the
time with a fair degree of comfort and profit. He,
poor fellow, was as submissive as a child, when in
his right mind ; and a better, kinder companion no
man could wish for. We constructed together a
wooden compartment, into which he could retire
when the fit was upon him ; and I had arranged
the window and door so that I could confine him to
the house if I thought an attack was impending.
Looking back, I can safely say that no possible pre-
caution was neglected ; even the necessary table
utensils were leaden and pointless, to prevent his
doing mischief with them in his frenzy.

324 ^^^ SURGEOy OF GA8TER FELL.

" For months after our change of quarters he ap-
peared to improve. "Whether it was the bracing
air, or the absence of any incentive to violence, he
never showed during that time any signs of his ter-
rible disorder. Your arrival first upset his mental
equilibrium. The very sight of you in the distance
awoke all those morbid impulses which had been
sleeping. That very evening he approached me
stealthily with a stone in his hand, and would have
slain me, had I not, as the lesser of two evils, struck
him to the ground and thrust him into his cage be-
fore he had time to regain his senses. This sudden
relapse naturally plunged me into the deepest sor-
row. For two days I did all that lay in my power
to soothe him. On the third day he appeared to
be calmer ; but, alas ! it was but the cunning of the
madman. He had contrived to loosen two bars of
his cage ; and when thrown off my guard by his ap-
parent improvement — I was engrossed in my chemis-
try— he suddenly sprung out at me, knife in hand.
In the scuffle, he cut me across the forearm, and
escaped from the hut before I recovered myself, nor
could I find out which direction he had taken. My
wound was a trifle, and for several days I wandered
over the fells, beating through every clump of bushes
in my fruitless search. I was convinced that he
would make an attempt on your life, a conviction
that was strengthened when I heard that some one
in your absence had entered your cottage. I there-
fore kept a watch over you at night. A dead sheep
which I found upon the moor, terribly mangled,
showed me that he was not without food, and that

TEE 8URaE0N OF CASTER FELL. ^25

the homicidal im})ulse was still strong in liim. At
last, as I had expected, he made his attempt upon
you, which, but for my intervention, would have
ended in the death of one or other of you. He ran,
and struggled like a wild animal ; but I was as des-
perate as he, and succeeded in bringing him down
and conveying him to the cottage. Convinced by
this failure that all hope of permanent improve-
ment was gone, I brought him next morning to this
establishment, and he is now, 1 am glad to say, re-
turning to his senses.

" Allow me once more, sir, to express my sorrow
that 3^ou should have been subjected to this ordeal,
and believe me to be faithfully yours,

John Light Cameron.

" P. S. — My sister Eva bids me send you her kind
regards. She told me how you were thrown together
at Kirkby-Malhouse, and also that you met one
night upon the fells. You will understand from
what 1 have already told you that when my dear
sister came back from Brussels I did not dare to
bring her home, but preferred that she should lodge
in safety in the village. Even then I did not ven-
ture to bring her into the presence of her father,
and it was only at night, when he was asleep, that
we could plan a meeting."

And this was the story of this strange group whose
path through life had crossed my ov/n. From that
last terrible night I have neither seen nor heard of
any of them, save for this one letter wbicJi 1 have

326 THE SURGEON OF Q ASTER FELL,

transcribed. Still I dwell on Gaster Fell, and still
my mind is buried m the secrets of the past. But
when I wander forth upon the moor, and when 1
see the deserted little gray cottage among the rocks,
my mind is still turned to the strange drama, and
to the singular couple who broke in upon my soli-
tude.

.CYPRIAN OVEKBECK AVELLS.

A LITERARY MOSAIC.

From my boyhood I Have had an intense and
overwhehning conviction that my real vocation lay
in the direction of literature. I have, however, had
a most unaccountable difficulty in getting any re-
sponsible person to share my views. It is true that
private friends have sometimes, after listening to my
effusions, gone the length of remarking, ^'Really,
Smith, that's not half bad !" or, "You take my ad-
vice, old boy, and send that to some magazine!'' but
I have never on these occasions had the moral cour-
age to inform my adviser that the article in question
had been sent to wellnigh every publisher in Lon-
don, and had come back again with a rapidity and
precision which spoke well for the efficiency of our
postal arrangements.

Had my manuscripts been paper boomerangs, they
could not have returned with gi'eater accuracy to
their unhappy despatcher. Oh, the vileness and utter
degradation of the moment when the stale little cylin-
der of closely written pages, which seemed so fresh
and full of promise a few days ago, is handed in by
a remorseless postman! And what moral depravity
shines through the editor's ridiculous plea of "want

328 CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS.

of space!" But the subject is a painful one, and a
digression from the plain statement of fact which
I originally contemplated.

From the age of seventeen to that of three-and-
twenty I was a literary volcano in a constant state
of eruption. Poems and tales, articles and reviews,
nothing came amiss to my pen. Prom the great sea-
serpent to the nebular hypothesis, I was ready to
write on anything or everything, and I can safely say
that I seldom handled a subject without throwing
new lights upon it. Poetry and romance, however,
had always the greatest attractions for me. How I
have wept over the pathos of my heroines, and
laughed at the comicalities of my buffoons! Alas!
I could find no one to join me in my appreciation,
and solitary admiration for one's self, however genu-
ine, becomes satiating after a time. My father re-
monstrated with me, too, on the score of expense and
loss of time, so that I was finally compelled to relin-
quish my dreams of literary independence and to
become a clerk in a wholesale mercantile firm con-
nected with the West African trade.

Even when condemned to the prosaic duties which
fell to my lot in the office, I continued faithful to
my first love. I have introduced pieces of word-
painting into the most commonplace business letters
which have, I am told, considerably astonished the
recipients. My refined sarcasm has made default-
ing creditors writhe and wince. Occasionally, like
the great Silas Wegg, I would drop into poetry, and

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 329

SO raise the whole tone of the correspondence. Thus
what could he more elegant than my rendering of the
firm's instructions to the captain of one of their ves-
sels. It ran in this way:

"From England, captain, you must steer a
Course directly to Madeira,
Land the casks of salted beef,
Then away to Teneriffe.
Pray be careful, cool, and wary
With the merchants of Canary.
When you leave them make the most
Of the trade winds to the coast.
Do^^^l it you shall sail as far
As the land of Calabar,
And from there you'll onward go
To Bonny and Fernando Po" —

and so on for four pages. The captain, instead of
treasuring up this little gem, called at the ofiBce next
day and demanded with quite unnecessary warmth
what the thing meant, and I was compelled to trans-
late it all back into prose. On this, as oh other similar
occasions, my employer took me severely to task —
for he was, you see, a man entirely devoid of all pre-
tensions to literary taste !

All this, however, is a mere preamble, and leads up
to the fact that after ten years or so of drudgery I
inherited a legacy which, though small, was sufficient
to satisfy my simple wants. Finding myself inde-
pendent, I rented a quiet house removed from the
uproar and bustle of London, and there I settled down
with the intention of producing some gTeat work

16— Vol. 1

330 CYPRIAN OVERBEGK WELLS.

which should single me out from the family of the
Smiths, and render my name immortal. To this end
I laid in several quires of foolscap, a box of quill
pens, and a sixpenny bottle of ink, and having given
my housekeeper injunctions to deny me to all visitors,
I proceeded to look round for a suitable subject.

I was looking round for some weeks. At the end of
that time I found that I had by constant nibbling de-
voured a large number of the quills, and had spread
the ink out to such advantage, with blots, spills, and
abortive commencements, that there appeared to be
some everywhere except in the bottle. As to the story
itself, however, the facility of my youth had deserted
me completely, and my mind remained a complete
blank ; nor could I, do what I would, excite my sterile
imagination to conjure up a single incident or char-
acter.

In this strait, I determined to devote my leisure to
running rapidly through the works of the leading En-
glish novelists, from Daniel Defoe to the present day,
in the hope of stimulating my latent ideas and of get-
ting a good grasp of the general tendency of litera-
ture. For some time past I had avoided opening any
work of fiction because one of the greatest faults of
my youth had been that I invariably and uncon-
sciously mimicked the style of the last author whom
I had happened to read, l^ow, however, I made up
my mind to seek safety in a multitude, and by con-
sulting all the English classics to avoid the danger
of imitating any one too closely. I had just accom-

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 331

plished the task of reading through the majority of
the standard novels at the time when my narrative
commences.

It was, then, about twenty minutes to ten on the
night of the fourth of June, eighteen hundred and
eighty-six, that, after disposing of a pint of beer and
a Welsh rarebit for my supper, I seated myself in my
arm-chair, cocked my feet upon a stool, and lighted
my pipe, as was my custom. Both my pulse and my
temperature were, as far as I know, normal at the
time. I would give the state of the barometer, but
that unlucky instrument had experienced an unpre-
cedented fall of forty-two inches — from a nail to the
ground — and was not in a reliable condition. We live
in a scientific age, and I flatter myself that I move
with the times.

While in that comfortable lethargic condition
which accompanies both digestion and poisoning by
nicotine, I suddenly became aware of the extraordi-
nary fact that my little drawing-room had elongated
into a great salon, and that my humble table had in-
creased in proportion. Round this colossal mahogany
were seated a great number of people who were talking
earnestly together, and the surface in front of them
was strewn with books and pamphlets. I could not
help observing that these persons were dressed in a
most extraordinary mixture of costumes, for those at
the end nearest to me wore peruke wigs, swords, and
all the fashions of two centuries back ; those abou* the
centre had tight knee-breeches, high cravats, .*jnd

832 CYPRIAN OVERBEGK WELLS.

heavy bunches of seals ; while among those at the far
side the majority were dressed in the most modern
style, and among them I saw, to my surprise, several
eminent men of letters whom I had the honor of know-
ing. There were two or three women in the company.
I should have risen to my feet to greet these unex-
pected guests, but all power of motion appeared to
have deserted me, and I could only lie still and listen
to their conversation, which I soon perceived to be
all about myself.

^^Egad!" exclaimed a rough, weather-beaten man,
who was smoking a long churchwarden pipe at my end
of the table, "my heart softens for him. Why, gos-
sips, weVe been in the same straits ourselves. Gad-
zooks! never did mother feel more concern for her
eldest born than I when Rory Random went out to
make his own way in the world."

"Right, Tobias, right!'' cried another man, seated
at my very elbow. "By my troth ! I lost more flesh
over poor Robin on his island than had I the sweating
sickness twice told. The tale was wellnigh done when
in swaggers my Lord of Rochester — a merry gallant,
and one whose word in matters literary might make
or mar. *How now, Defoe,' quoth he, ^hast a tale on
hand?' 'Even so, your lordship,' I returned. 'A
right merry one, I trust,' quoth he. 'Discourse unto
me concerning thy heroine, a comely lass, Dan, or I
mistake.' '^ay,' I replied, 'there is no heroine in the
matter.' 'Split not your phrases,' quoth he; 'thou
weighest every word like a scald attorney. Speak to

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 333

me of thj principal female character, be she heroine
or no.' 'My lord/ I answered, ^there is no female
character.' 'Then out upon thyself, and thy book,
too !' he cried. ^Thou hadst best bum it !' — and so out
in great dudgeon, while I fell to mourning over my
poor romance, which was thus, as it were, sentenced
to death before its birth. Yet there are a thousand
now who have read of Robin and his man Friday to
one who has heard of my Lord of Rochester."

"Veiy true, Defoe," said a genial-looking man in a
red waistcoat, who was sitting at the modern end of
the table. "But all this won't help our good friend
Smith in making a start at his story, which, I believe,
was the reason why we assembled."

"The Dickens it is !" stammered a little man beside
him, and everybody laughed, especially the genial
man, who cried out, "Charley Lamb, Charley Lamb,
you'll never alter. You would make a pun if you
were hanged for it."

"That would be a case of haltering," returned the
other, on which everybody laughed again.

By this time I had begun to dimly realize in my
confused brain the enormous honor which had been
done me. The greatest masters of fiction in every age
of English letters had apparently made a rendezvous
beneath my roof, in order to assist me in my diffi-
culties. There were many faces at the table whom I
was unable to identify; but when I looked hard at
others I often found them to be very familiar to me,
whether from paintings or from mere description.

334 CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS.

Thus, between the first two speakers, who had be-
trayed themselves as Defoe and Smollett, there sat a
dark, saturnine, corpulent old man, with harsh, promi-
nent features, who I was sure could be none other
than the famous author of Gulliver. There were sev-
eral others of whom I was not so sure, sitting at the
other side of the table, but I conjecture that both
Fielding and Richardson were among them, and I
could swear to the lantern- jaws and cadaverous visage
of Laurence Sterne. Higher up I could see among
the crowd the high forehead of Sir Walter Scott,
the masculine features of George Eliot and the flat-
tened nose of Thackeray; while among the living I
recognized James Payn, Walter Besant, the lady
known as "Ouida,'' Robert Louis Stevenson, and sev-
eral of lesser note. N"ever before, probably, had such
an assemblage of choice spirits gathered under one
roof.

"Well,'' said Sir Walter Scott, speaking with a very
pronounced accent, "ye ken the auld proverb, sirs,
'Ower mony cooks,' or as the Border minstrel sang:

" 'Black Johnstone wi' his troopers ten
Might mak' the heart turn cauld,
But Johnstone when he's a' alane
Is waur ten thoosand fauld.'

The Johnstones were one of the Redesdale families,
second cousins of the Armstrongs, and connected by
marriage to — "

"Perhaps, Sir Walter," interrupted Thackeray,

CYPRIAN OVER BECK WELLS, 335

"you would take the responsibility off our hands by
yourself dictating the coniniencement of a story to
this young literary aspirant.'^

"ISTa, na !'' cried Sir Walter ; ^1^11 do my share, but
there's Charlie over there as full o' wut as a Radical's
full o' treason. He's the laddie to give a cheery open-
ing to it."

Dickens was shaking his head, and apparently
about to refuse the honor, when a voice from among
the moderns — I could not see who it was for the crowd
— said :

^^Suppose we begin at the end of the table and work
round, any one contributing a little as the fancy seizes
him?"

"AgTeed ! agreed !" cried the whole company ; and
every eye was turned on Defoe, who seemed very un-
easy, and filled his pipe from a great tobacco-box in
front of him.

^^Xay, gossips," he said, "there are others more
worthy — " But he was interrupted by loud cries of
"Xo, no !" from the whole table ; and Smollett shouted
out, "Stand to it, Dan — stand to it ! You and I and
the Dean here will make three short tacks just to fetch
her out of harbor, and then she may drift where she
pleases." Thus encouraged, Defoe cleared his throat,
and began in this way, talking between the puffs of
his pipe:

"My father was a well-to-do yeoman of Cheshire,
named Cyprian Overbeck, but, marrying about the
year 1617, he assumed the name of his wife's family,

336 CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS.

which was Wells; and thus I, their eldest son, was
named Cyprian Overbeck Wells. The farm was a
very fertile one, and contained some of the best graz-
ing land in those parts, so that my father was en-
abled to lay by money to the extent of a thousand
crowns, which he had laid out in an adventure to the
Indies with such surprising success that in less than
three years it had increased fourfold. Thus encour-
aged, he bought a part share of the trader, and, fitting
her out once more with such commodities as were most
in demand (viz., old muskets, hangers, and axes, be-
sides glasses, needles and the like), he placed me on
board as supercargo to look after his interests, and
despatched us upon our voyage.

"We had a fair wind as far as Cape de Verde, and
there, getting into the northwest trade-winds, made
good progTcss down the African coast. Beyond sight-
ing a" Barbary rover once, whereat our mariners were
in sad distress, counting themselves already as little
better than slaves, we had good luck until we had
come within a hundred leagues of the Cape of Good
Hope, when the wind veered round to the southward
and blew exceeding hard, while the sea rose to such
a height that the end of the mainyard dipped into
the water, and I heard the master say that though he
had been at sea for five-and-thirty years he had never
seen the like of it, and that he had little expectation
of riding through it. On this I fell to wringing my
hands and bewailing myself, until the mast going by
the board with a crash, I thought that the ship had

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 387

stnick, and swooned with terror, falling into the scup-
pei^ and lying like one dead, which was the saving of
me, as will appear in the sequel. For the mariners,
giving up all hope of saving the ship, and being
in momentary expectation that she would founder,
pushed off in the long-boat, whereby I fear that they
met the fate which they hoped to avoid, since I have
never from that day heard anything of them. For
my own part, on recovering from the swoon into which
I had fallen, I found that, by the mercy of Provi-
dence, the sea had gone down, and that I was alone in
the vessel. At which last disco vei*y I was so terror-
struck that I could but stand wringing my hands and
bewailing my sad fate, until at last taking heart, I fell
to comparing my lot with that of my unhappy cam-
arados, on which I became more cheerful, and descend-
ing to the cabin, made a meal off such dainties as were
in the captain's locker."

Having got so far, Defoe remarked that he thought
he "had given them a fair start, and handed over the
story to Dean Swift, who, after premising that he
feared he would find himself as much at sea as
Master Cyprian Overbeck Wells, continued in this
way:

"For two days I drifted about in gTeat distress,
fearing that there should be a return of the gale, and
keeping an eager lookout for my late companions.
Upon the third day, toward evening, I observed to my
extreme surprise that the ship was under the influence
of a very powerful current, which ran to the north-

338 C7PRIAN 0 VERBS CK WELLS.

east with such violence that she was carried, now bows
on, now stern on, and occasionally drifting sideways
like a crab, at a rate which I can not compute at
less than twelve or fifteen knots an hour. For sev-
eral weeks I was borne away in this manner, until
one morning, to my inexpressible joy, I sighted an
island upon the starboard quarter. The current
would, however, have carried me past it had I not
made shift, though single-handed, to set the flying-
jib so as to turn her bows, and then clapping on the
sprit-sail, studding-sail, and fore-sail, I clewed up the
halyards upon the port side, and put the wheel down
hard a-starboard, the wind being at the time north-
east-half-east."

At the description of this nautical manoeuvre I
observed that Smollett grinned, and a gentleman who
was sitting higher up the table in the uniform of the
Royal ISTavy, and who I guessed to be Captain Mar-
ryat, became very uneasy and fidgeted in his seat.

"By this means I got clear of the current and was
able to steer within a quarter of a mile of the beach,
which indeed I might have approached still nearer
by making another tack, but being an excellent swim-
mer, I deemed it best to leave the vessel, which was
almost waterlogged, and to make the best of my way
to the shore.

"I had had no doubts hitherto as to whether this
new-found country was inhabited or no, but as I ap-
proached nearer to it, being on the summit of a great
wave, I perceived a number of figures on the beach,

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 339

engaged apparently in watching me and my vessel.
My joy, how3ver, was considerably lessened when on
reaching the land I found that the figures consisted
of a vast concourse of animals of various sorts who
were standing about in groups, and who hurried
down to the water's edge to meet me. I had scarce
put my foot upon the sand before I was surrounded
by an eager crowd of deer, dogs, wild boars, buffaloes,
and other creatures, none of whom showed the least
fear either of me or of each other, but, on the con-
trary, were animated by a common feeling of curi-
osity, as well as, it would appear, by some degree of
disgust."

"A second edition," whispered Laurence Sterne to
his neighbor; ^^Gulliver served up cold."

"Did you speak, sir ?" asked the dean, very sternly,
having evidently overheard the remark.

"My words were not addressed to you, sir," an-
swered Sterne, looking rather frightened.

"They were none the less insolent," roared the
dean. "Your reverence would fain make a Senti-
mental Journal of the narrative, I doubt not, and
find pathos in a dead donkey — though faith, no man
can blame thee for mourning over thy own kith and
kin."

"Better that than to wallow in all the filth of
Yahooland," returned Sterne, warmly; and a quar-
rel would certainly have ensued but for the interposi-
tion of the remainder of the company. As it was,
the dean refused indignantly to have any further

SiO CYPRIAN OVERBEGK WELLS.

band in the story,, and Sterne also stood out of it,
remarking with a sneer that he was loth to fit a
good blade on to a poor handle. Under these cir-
cumstances some further unpleasantness might have
occurred, had not Smollett rapidly taken up the nar-
rative, continuing it in the third person instead of
the first :

"Our hero, being considerably alarmed .at this
strange reception, lost little time in plunging into
the sea again and regaining his vessel, being con-
vinced that the worst which might befall him from
the elements would be as nothing compared to the
dangers of this mysterious island. It was as well
that he took this course, for before nightfall his ship'
was overhauled and he himself picked up by a
British man-of-war, the Lightning (74), then re-
turning from the West Indies, where it had formed
part of the fleet under the command of Admiral Ben-
bow. Young Wells, being a likely lad enough, well
spoken and high spirited, was at once entered on
the books as officers' servant, in which capacity he
both gained great popularity on account of the free-
dom of his manners, and found an opportunity for
indulging in those practical pleasantries for which
he had all his life been famous.

*^Araong the quartermasters of the Lightning there
was one named Jedediah Anchorstock, whose appear-
ance was so remarkable that it quickly attracted the
attention of our hero. He was a man of about fifty,
dark with exposure to the weather, and so tall that

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 341

as he came along the 'tween decks he had to benr him-
self nearly double. The most striking peculiarity of
this individual was, however, that in his boyhood
some evil-minded person had tattooed eyes all over
his countenance with such marvelous skill that it was
difficult at a short distance to pick out his real ones
among so many counterfeits. On this strange per-
sonage Master Cyprian determined to exercise his
talents for mischief, the more so as he learned that
he was extremely superstitious, and also that he had
left behind him in Portsmouth a strong-minded
spouse of whom he stood in mortal terror. With
this object he secured one of the sheep which were
kept on board for the officers' table, and pouring a
can of rumbo down its throat, reduced it to a state
of utter intoxication. He then conveyed it to Anchor-
stock's berth, and with the assistance of some other
imps, as mischievous as himself, dressed it up in a
high nightcap and gown, and covered it over with
the bedclothes.

"When the quartermaster came down from his
watch, our hero met him at the door of his berth
with an agitated face. ^Mr. Anchorstock,' said he,
^can it be that your wife is on board V ^Wife !'
roared the astonished sailor. ^Ye white-faced swab,
what d'ye mean?' ^If she's not here in the ship it
must be her ghost,' said Cyprian, shaking his head
gloomily. *In the ship ! How in thunder could she
get into the ship? Why, master, I believe as how
you're weak in the upper works, d'ye see, to as much

8^2 CYPRIAN OVERBEGK WELLS.

as think o' such a thing. My Poll is moored head
and starn, behind the point at Portsmouth, more'n
two thousand miles away.' ^TJpon my word/ said our
hero, very earnestly, ^I saw a female look out of your
cabin not five minutes ago.' 'Ay, ay, Mr. Anchor-
stock,' joined in several of the conspirators. 'We
all saw her — a spanking-looking craft with a dead-
light mounted on. one side,' 'Sure enough,' said
Anchorstock, staggered by this accumulation of evi-
dence, 'my Poll's starboard eye was doused forever
by long Sue Williams of the Hard. But if so be as
she be there, I must see her, be she ghost or quick;'
with which the honest sailor, in much perturbation
and trembling in every limb, began to shuffle forward
into the cabin, holding the light well in front of him.
It chanced, however, that the unhappy sheep, which
was quietly engaged in sleeping off the effects of its
unusual potations, was awakened by the noise of his
approach, and finding herself in such an unusual
position, sprang out of the bed and rushed furiously
for the door, bleating wildly, and rolling about like
a brig in a tornado, partly from intoxication and
partly from the night-dress which impeded its move-
ments. As Anchorstock saw this extraordinary ap-
parition bearing down upon him, he uttered a yell
and fell flat upon his face, convinced that he had to
do with a supernatural visitor, the more so as the
confederates heightened the effect by a chorus of most
ghastly groans and cries. The joke had nearly gone
beyond what was originally intended, for the quarter-

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 348

master lay as one dead, and it was only with the
greatest difficulty that he conld be brought to his
senses. To the end of the voyage he stoutly asserted
that he had seen the distant Mrs. Anchorstock, re-
marking with many oaths that though he was too
woundily scared to make much note of the features,
there was no mistaking the strong smell of rum which
was characteristic of his better half.

"It chanced shortly after this to be the king's birth-
day, an event which was signalized aboard the Liglit-
ning by the death of the commander under singular
circumstances. This officer, who was a real fair-
weather Jack, hardly knowing the ship's keel from
her ensign, had obtained his position through parlia-
mentary interest, and used it with such tyranny and
cruelty that he was universally execrated. So un-
popular was he that when a plot was entered into by
the whole crew to punisli his misdeeds with death, he
had not a single friend among six hundred souls to
warn him of his danger. It was the custom on board
the king's ships that upon his birthday the entire
ship's company should be drawn up on deck, and that
at a signal they should discharge their muskets into
the air in honor of his majesty. On this occasion
word had been secretly passed round for every man
to slip a slug into his firelock, instead of the blank
cartridge provided. On the boatswain blowing his
whistle, the men mustered upon deck and formed line,
while the captain, standing well in front of them, de-
livered a few words to them. 'When I give the word,'

34ri CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS.

he concluded, 'you shall discharge your pieces, and by
thunder, if any man is a second before or a second
after his fellows, I shall trice him up to the weather
rigging !' With these words he roared Tire !' on
which every man leveled his musket straight at his
head and pulled the trigger. So accurate was the aim
and so short the distance, that more than five hundred
bullets struck him simultaneously, blowing away his
head and a large portion of his body. There were so
many concerned in this matter, and it was so hopeless
to trace it to any individual, that the officers were un-
able to punish any one for the affair — ^the more read-
ily as the captain's haughty ways and heartless con-
duct had made him quite as hateful to them as to the
men whom they commanded.

''By his pleasantries and the natural charm of his
manner, our hero so far won the good wishes of the
ship's company that they parted with infinite regret
upon their arrival in England. Filial duty, however,
urged him to return home and report himself to his
father, with which object he posted from Portsmouth
to London, intending to proceed thence to Shropshire.
As it chanced, however, one of the horses sprained his
off foreleg while passing through Chichester, and as
no change could be obtained, Cyprian found himself
compelled to put up at the Crown and Bull for the
night.

"Ods bodikins!" continued Smollett, laughing, "I
never could pass a comfortable hostel without stop-
ping, and so, with your permission, I'll e'en stop here,

CYPRIAN OVER PECK WELLS. 345

and whoever wills may lead friend Cyprian to his
further adventures. Do you, Sir Walter, give us a
touch of the Wizard of the Xorth.''

With these words Smollett produced a pipe, and
filling it at Defoe's tobacco-pot, waited patiently for
the continuation of the story.

*'If I must, I must,'' remarked the illustrious
Scotchman, taking a pinch of snuff ; "but I must beg
leave to put Mr. Wells back a few hundred years,
for of all things, I love the true mediaeval smack. To
proceed then :

"Our hero, being anxious to continue his journey,
and learning that it would be some time before any
conveyance would be ready, determined to push on
alone, mounted on his gallant gray st-eed. Traveling
was particularly dangerous at that time, for besides
the usual perils which beset wayfarers, the southern
parts of England were in a lawless and disturbed state
which bordered on insurrection. The young man,
however, having loosened his sword in his sheath, so
as to be ready for every eventuality, galloped cheerily
upon his way, guiding himself to the best of his abil-
ity by the light of the rising moon.

"He had not gone far before he realized that the
cautions which had been impressed upon him by the
landlord, and which he had been inclined to look upon
as self-interested advice, were only too well justified.
At a spot where the road was particularly rough, and
ran across some marsh land, he perceived a short, dis-
tance from him a dark shadow, which his practiced

Sl^ CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS.

eje detected at once as a body of crouching men.
Reining up his horse within a few yards of the am-
buscade, he wrapped his cloak round his bridle-arm
and summoned the party to stand forth.

" ^What ho, my masters !' he cried. ^Are beds so
scarce, then, that ye mvist hamper the high-road of
the king with your bodies ? !Now, by St. Ursula of
Alpuxerra, there be those who might think that birds
who fly o' nights were after higher game than the
moorhen or the woodcock!'

" ^Blades and targets, comrades !' exclaimed a tall,
powerful man, springing into the centre of the road
with several companions, and standing in front of
the frightened horse. ^Who is this swashbuckler who
summons his majesty's lieges from their repose ? A
very soldado, o' truth. Hark ye, sir, or my lord, or
thy grace, or whatsoever title your honor's honor may
be pleased to approve, thou must curb thy tongue
play, or by the seven witches of Gambleside thou
may find thyseK in but a sorry plight.'

" ^I prithee, then, that thou wilt expound to me
who and what ye are,' quoth our hero, ^and whether
your purpose be such as an honest man may approve
of. As to your threa*ts, they turn from my mind as
your caitiffy weapons would shiver upon my hauberk
from Milan.'

" 'Nay, Allen,' interrupted one of the party, ad-
dressing him who seemed to be their leader; ^this is
a lad of mettle, and such a one as our honest Jack
lon^s for. But we lure not hawks with empty hands.

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 347

Look ye, sir, there is game afoot which it iiiay need
such bold hunters as thyself to follow. Come with
us and take a firkin of canary, and we will find better
work for that glaive of thine than getting its owaier
into broil and bloodshed ; for, by my troth ! Milan
or no Milan, if my curtel axe do but ring against that
morion of thin^e it will be an ill day for thy father's
son.'

^^For a moment our hero hesitated as to whether
it would best become his knightly traditions to hurl
himself against his enemies, or whether it might not
be better to obey their requests'. Prudence, mingled
with a large share of curiosity, eventually carried the
day, and dismounting from his horse, he intimated
that he was ready to follow his captors.

" ^Spoken, like a man !' cried he whom they ad-
dressed as Allen. ^Jack Cade will be right glad of
such a recruit. Blood and carrion! but thou hast
the thews of a young ox; and I swear, by the haft
of my sword, that it might have gone ill with some
of us hadst thou not listened to reason !'

" 'Xay, not so, good Allen — not so,' squeaked a
very small man, who had remained in the background
while there was any prospect of a fray, but who now
came pushing to the front.. ^Hadst thou been alone
it might indeed have been so, perchance, but an ex-
pert swordsman can disarm at pleasure such a one
as this young knight. Well I remember in the
Palatinate how I clove to the chin even such another
— the Baron von Slogstaff. He struck at me, look

348 CYPRIAN OVER BECK WELLS.

ye, so ; but I, with buckler and blade, did, as one
might say, deflect it, and then, countering in carte, I
returned in tierce, and so — St. Agnes save us ! who
comes here V

^'The apparition which frightened the loquacious
little man was sufficiently strange to cause a qualm
even in the bosom of the knight. Through the dark-
ness there loomed a figure which appeared to be of
gigantic size, and a hoarse voice, issuing apparently
some distance above the heads of the party, broke
roughly on the silence of the night.

" *Now out upon thee, Thomas Allen, and foul be
thy fate if thou hast abandoned thy post without good
and sufficient cause. By St. Anselm of the Holy
Grove! thou hadst best have never been born than
rouse my spleen this night. Wherefore is it that
you and your men are trailing over the moor like a
flock of geese when Michaelmas is near V

" 'Good captain,' said Allen, doffing his bonnet, an
example followed by others of the band, Ve have
captured a goodly youth who was pricking it along
the London road. Methought that some word of
thanks were meet reward for such service, rather
than taunt or threat.'

" ^Nay, take it not to heart, bold Allen,' exclaimed
their leader, who was none other than the great Jack
Cade himself. ^Thou knowest of old that my temper
is somewhat choleric, and my tongue not greased with
that unguent which oils the mouths of the lip-serving
lords of the land. And you,' he continued, turning

CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS. 849

suddenly upon our hero, ^are you ready to join the
great cause which will make England what it was
when the learned Alfred reigned in the land ? Zounds,
man, speak out, and pick not your phrases.'

" ^I am ready to do aught which may become a
knight and a gentleman,' said the soldier, stoutly.

" ^Taxes shall be swept away !' cried Cade, ex-
citedly— the impost and the anpost — the tithe and
the hundred-tax. The poor man's salt-box and flour-
bin shall be as free as the nobleman's cellar. Ila!
what sayest thou ?'

'' ^It is but just,' said our hero.

" ^Ay, but they give us such justice as the falcon
gives the leveret!' roared the orator, 'Down with
them, I say — down with every man of them ! Xoble
and judge, priest and king, down with them alk^'

" ^l!^ay,' said Sir Overbeck Wells, drawing himself
up to his full height, and laying his hand upon the hilt
of his sword, 'there I can not follow thee, but must
rather defy thee as traitor and faineant, seeing that
thou art no true man, but one who would usurp the
rights of our master the king, w^hom may the Virgin
protect !"

"At these bold words, and the defiance which they
conveyed, the rebels • seemed for a moment utterly
bewildered ; but, encouraged by the hoarse shout of
their leader, they brandished their weapons and pre-
pared to fall upon the knight, who placed himself in
a posture for defence and awaited their attack.

"There now !" cried Sir Walter, rubbing his hands

350 CYPRIAN OVERBECK WELLS,

and chuckling, "IVe put the chiel in a pretty warm
corner, and we'll see which of you moderns can take
him oot o't. Ne'er a word more will ye get frae me
to help him one way or the other."

^'You try your hand, James," cried several voices ;
and the author in question had got so far as to make
an allusion to a solitary horseman who was approach-
ing, when he was interrupted by a tall gentleman a
little further dovm with a slight stutter and a very
nervous manner.

'^Excuse me," he said, ^^but I fancy that I may be
able to do something here. Some of my humble pro-
ductions have been said to excel Sir Walter at his
best, and I was undoubtedly stronger all round. I
could picture modern society as well as ancient; and
as to my plays, why, Shakespeare never came near
*The Lady of Lyons' for popularity. There is this
little thing — " (Here he rummaged among a great
pile of papers in front of him). "Ah ! that's a report
of mine, when I was in India. Here it is. No, this
is one of my speeches in the House and this is my
criticism on Tennyson. Didn't I warm him up ? I
can't find what I wanted, but of course you have read
them all — ^Rienzi,' and ^Harold,' and ^The Last of
the Barons.' Every schoolboy knows them by heart,
as poor Macaulay would have said. Allow me to
give you a sample :

"In spite of the gallant knight's valiant resistance,
the combat was too unequal to be sustained. His
sword was broken by a slash from a brov^m bill, and

CYPRIAN OVER BECK WELLS. 351

he was borne to the grouncl. lie expected immediate
death, but such did not seem to be the intention of
the ruffians who had captured him. He was placed
upon the back of his own charger, and borne, bound
hand and foot, over the trackless moor, into the fast-
nesses where the rebels secreted themselves.

*^In the depths of these wilds there stood a stone
building which had once been a farm-house, but hav-
ing been for some reason abandoned, had fallen into
ruin, and had now become the headquarters of Cade
and his men. A large cow-house near the farm had
been utilized as sleeping quarters, and some rough
attempts had been made to shield the principal room
of the main building from the weather by stopping
up the gaping apertures in the walls. In this apart-
ment was spread out a rough meal for the returning
rebels, and our hero was thrown, still bound, into an
empty out-house, there to await his fate."

Sir Walter had been listening with the greatest
impatience to Bulwer Lytton's narrative, but when it
had reached this point, he broke in impatiently:

"We want a touch of your ovni style, man," he
said. "The animal-magnetico-electro-hysterical-bio-
logical-mysterious sort of story is all your own, but
at present you are just a poor copy of myself, and
nothing more."

There was a murmur of assent from the company,
and Defoe remarked: "Truly, Master Lytton, there
is a plaguy resemblance in. the style, which may in-
deed be but a chance, and yet methinks it is suffi-

o52 CYPRIAN OVERBEGK WELLS,

ciently marked to warrant such words as our friend
hath used."

^'Perhaps you will think that this is an imitation
also/' said Lytton^ bitterly ; and leaning back in his
chair with a morose countenance, he continued the
narrative in this way:

"Our unfortunate hero had hardly stretched him-
self upon the straw with which his dungeon was lit-
tered, when a secret door opened in the wall and a ven-
erable old man swept majestically into the apartment.
The prisoner gazed upon him with astonishment
not unmixed with awe, for on his broad brow was
printed the seal of much knowledge — such knowledge
as it is not granted to the son of man to knX)w. He
was clad in a long white robe, crossed and checkered
with mystic devices in the Arabic character, while a
high scarlet tiara, marked with the square and circle,
enhanced his venerable appearance. *My son,' he
said, turning his piercing and yet dreamy gaze upon
Sir Overbeck, 'all things lead to nothing, and nothing
is the foundation of all things. Cosmos is impene-
trable. Why, then, should we exist V

"Astounded at this weighty query, and at the philo-
sophic demeanor of his visitor, our hero made shift to
bid him welcome and to demand his name and qual-
ity. As the old man answered him, his voice rose
and fell in musical cadences, like the sighing of the
east wind, while an ethereal and aromatic vapor per-
vaded the apartment.

" 'I am the eternal non-ego,' he answered. 'I

CYPRIAN OVERBEGK WELLS. 353

am the concentrated negative — ^the everlasting es-
sence of nothing. You see in me that which ex-
isted before the beginning of matter many years
before the commencement of time. I am the alge-
braic X which represents the infinite divisibility of
a finite particle.'

"Sir Overbeck felt a shudder as though an ice-
cold hand had been placed u|X)n his brow. ^What is
your message V he whispered, falling prostrate before
his mysterious visitor.

" ^To tell you that the eternities beget chaos
and that the immensities are at the mercy of the
divine ananke. Infinitude crouches before a person-
ality. The mercurial essence is the prime mover in
spirituality, and the thinker is powerless before the
pulsating inanity. The cosmical procession is ter-
minated only by the unknowable and unpronounce-
able— '

''May I ask, Mr. Smollett, what you find to laugh
at?"

"Gadzooks ! master," cried Smollett, who had been
sniggering for some time back. "It seems to me
that there is little danger of any one venturing to
dispute that style with you."

"It's all your own," murmured Sir Walter.

"And very pretty, too," quoth Laurence Sterne,
with a malignant grin. "Pray, sir, what language
do you call it?"

Lytton was so enraged at these remarks, and at the
favor with which they appeared to be received, that
16— Vol. 1

854 CYPRIAX OVERBECK WELLS,

he eudeav^ored to stutter out some reply, and then,
losing control of himself completely, picked up all
his loose papers and strode out of the room, dropping
pamphlets and speeches at every step. This incident
amused the company so much that they laughed for
several minutes without cessation. Gradually the
sound of their laughter sounded more and more
harshly in my ears, the lights on the table grew dim
and the company more misty, until they and their
symposium vanished away altogether. I was sitting
before the embers of what had been a roaring fire,
but was now little more than a heap of gray ashes,
and the merry laughter of the august company had
changed to the recriminations of my wife, who was
shaking me violently by the shoulder and exhorting
me to choose some more seasonable spot for my slum-
bers. So ended the wondrous adventures of Master
Cyprian Overbeck Wells, but I still live in the hopes
that in some future dream the great masters may
themselves finish that which they have begun.

THE END.

THE RING OF THOTH.

Mr. John Yansittart Smith, F.E.S., of 147-A
Gower Street, wsls a man whose energy of purpose
and clearness of thought might have placed him in
the very first rank of scientific observers. He was
the victim, however, of a universal ambition which
prompted him to aim at distinction in many sub-
jects rather than pre-eminence in one. In his early
days he had shown an aptitude for zoology and for
botany which caused his friends to look upon him
as a second Darwin, but when a professorship was
almost within his reach, he had suddenly discon-
tinued his studies and turned his whole attention to
chemistry. Here his researches upon the spectra
of the metals had won him his fellowship in the
Royal Society ; but again he played the coquette
with his subject, and after a year's absence from
the laboratory he joined the Oriental Society, and
delivered a paper on the Hieroglyphic and Demotic
inscriptions of El Kab, thus giving a crowning ex-
ample both of the versatility and of the inconstancy
of his talents.

The most fickle of wooers, however, is apt to be
caught at last, and so it was with John Yansittart

O X ^

OOO

856 THE RING OF THOTB.^

Smith. The more he burrowed his way into Egypt-
ology the more impressed he became by the vast
field which it opened to the inquirer, and by the
extreme importance of a subject which promised to
throw a light upon the first germs of human civiliza-
tion and the origin of the greater part of our arts
and sciences. So struck was Mr. Smith that he
straightway married an Egyptological young lady
who had written upon the sixth dynasty, and having
thus secured a sound basis of operations, he set him-
self to collect materials for a work which should
unite the research of Lepsius and the ingenuity of
Champollion. The preparation of this magnum opus
entailed many hurried visits to the magnificent
Egyptian collections of the Louvre, upon the last of
which, no longer ago than the middle of last Octo-
ber, he became involved in a most strange and note-
worthy adventure.

The trains had been slow and the Channel had
been rough, so that the student arrived in Paris in
a somewhat befogged and feverish condition. On
reaching the Hotel de France, in the Rue Lafitte,
he had thrown himself upon a sofa for a couple of
hours, but finding that he was unable to sleep, he
determined, in spite of his fatigue, to make his way
to the Louvre, settle the point which he had come
to decide, and take the evening train back to Dieppe.
Having come to this conclusion, he donned his great-
coat, for it was a raw, rainy day, and made his way
across the Boulevard des Italiens and down the Aver
nue de 1' Opera. Once in the Louvre he was on famil
iar ground, and he speedily made his way to the

TEE RIXG OF THOTH. 357

collection of papyri Avhich it was his intention to
consult.

The warmest admirers of John Yansittart Smith
could hardly claim for him that he was a handsome
man. His high-beaked nose and prominent chin had
something of the same acute and incisive character
which distinguished his intellect. He held his head
in a bird-like fashion, and bird-like, too, was the peck-
ing motion with which, in conversation, he threw
out his objections and retorts. As he stood, with
the high collar of his great-coat raised to his ears,
he might have seen from the reflection in the glass
case before him that his appearance was a singular
one. Yet it came upon him as a sudden jar when
an English voice behind him exclaimed in very audi-
ble tones, " What a queer-looking mortal ! "

The student had a large amount of petty vanity
in his composition which manifested itself by an
ostentatious and overdone disregard of all personal
considerations. He straightened his lips and looked
rigidly at the roll of papyrus, while his heart filled
with bitterness against the whole race of traveling
Britons.

'' Yes," said another voice, " he really is an ex-
traordinary fellow."

" Do you know," said the first speaker, " one could
almost believe that by the continual contemplation
of mummies the chap has become half a mummy
himself?"

" He has certainly an Egyptian cast of counte-
nance," said the other.

John Yansittart Smith spun round upon his heel

358 " ^^^ i2/2^Gf OF TROTH,

with the intention of shaming his countrymen by a
corrosive remark or two. To his surprise and relief,
the two young fellows who had been conversing had
their shoulders turned toward him, and were gazing
at one of the Louvre attendants who was polishing
some brass- work at the other side of the room.

" Carter will be waiting for us at the Palais
Roj^al," said one tourist to the other, glancing at
his watch, and they clattered away, leaving the stu-
dent to his labors.

" I wonder what these chatterers call an Egyptian
cast of countenance," thought John Yansittart
Smith, and he moved his position slightly in order
to catch a glimpse of the man's face. He started
as his eyes fell upon it. It was indeed the very face
with vv^hich his studies had made him familiar. The
regular statuesque features, broad brow, well-rounded
chin, and dusky complexion were the exact counter-
part of the innumerable statues, mummy cases, and
pictures which adorned the walls of the apartment.
The thing was beyond all coincidence. The man
must be an Egyptian. The national angularity
of the shoulders and narrowness of the hips were
alone sufficient to identify him.

John Yansittart Smith shuffled toward the atten-
dant with some intention of addressing him. He
was not light of touch in conversation, and fotmd
it difficult to strike the happy mean between the
brusqueness of the superior and the geniality of the
equal. As he came nearer, the man presented his
side face to him, but kept his gaze still bent upon
his work. Yansittart Smith, fixing his eyes upon

THE RIXO OF TROTH. 359

the fellow's skin, was conscious of a sudden impres-
sion that there was something inhuman and preter-
natural about its appearance. Over the temple and
cheek-bone it was as glazed and as shiny as varnished
parchment. There was no suggestion of pores.
One could not fancy a drop of moisture upon that
arid surface. From brow to chin, however, it was
cross-hatched by a million delicate wrinkles which
shot and interlaced as though Nature in some Maori
mood had tried how wild and intricate a pattern
she could devise.

" Ou est la collection de Memphis ? " asked the stu-
dent, with the awkward air of a man who is de-
vising a question merely for the purpose of open-
ing a conversation.

" C'est la," replied the man, brusquely, nodding
his head at the other side of the room.

" Yous etes un Egyptien, n'est-ce pas ? " asked
the Englishman.

The attendant looked up and turned his strange,
dark eyes upon his questioner. They were vitreous,
with a misty, dry shininess, such as Smith had never
seen in a human head before. As he gazed into
them he saw some strong emotion gather in their
depths, which rose and deepened until it broke into a
look of something akin both to horror and to hatred.

"Kon, monsieur; je suis Fran^ais.'" The man
turned abruptly and bent low over his polishing.
The student gazed at him for a moment in astonish-
ment, and then turning to a chair in a retired cor-
ner behind one of the doors, he proceeded to make
notes of his researches among the papyri. His

360 THE RI^'G OF TROTH.

thoughts, however, refused to return into their
natural groove. They would run upon the enigmat
ical attendant with the sphinx-like face and the
parchment skin.

" Where have I seen such eyes ? " said Yansittart
Smith to himself. " There is something saurian
about them, something reptilian. There's the mem-
brana nictitans of the snakes," he mused, bethink-
ing himself of his zoological studies. " It gives a
shiny effect. But there was something more here.
There was a sense of power, of wisdom — so I read
them — and of weariness, utter weariness, and inef-
fable despair. It may be all imagination, but I
never had so strong an impression. By Jove, I must
have another look at them ! " He rose and paced
round the Egyptian rooms, but the man who had
excited his curiosity had disappeared.

The student sat down again in his quiet corner,
and continued to work at his notes. He had gained
the information which he required from the papyri ;
and it only remained to write it down while it was
still fresh in his memory. For a time his pencil
traveled rapidly over the paper, but soon the lines
became less level, the words more blurred, and
finally the pencil tinkled down upon the floor, and
the head of the student dropped heavily forward
upon his chest. Tired out by his journey, he slept
so soundly in his lonely post behind the door that
neither the clanking civil guard, nor the footsteps
of sightseers, nor even the loud, hoarse bell which
gives the signal for closing, were sufficient to arouse
him.

TEE RING OF THOTH, 361

Twilight deepened into darkness, the bustle from
the Rue de Riv^oli waxed and then waned, distant
Notre Dame clanged out the hour of midnight, and
still the dark and lonely figure sat silently in the
shadow. It was not until close upon one in the
morning that, with a sudden gasp and an intaking
of the breath, Yansittart Smith returned to con-
sciousness. For a moment it flashed upon him that
he had dropped asleep in his study-chair at home.
The moon was shining fitfully through the unshut-
tered window, however, and, as his eye ray along the
lines of mummies and the endless array of polished
cases, he remembered clearly where he was and how
he came there. The student was not a nervous
man. He possessed that love of a novel situation
which is peculiar to his race. Stretching out his
cramped limbs, he looked at his watch, and burst
into a chuckle as he observed the hour. The episode
would make an admirable anecdote to be introduced
into his next paper as a relief to the graver and
heavier speculations. He was a little cold, but
wide awake and much refreshed. It was no wonder
that the guardians had overlooked him, for the door
threw its heavy black shadow right across him.

The complete silence was impressive. Neither out-
side nor inside was there a creak or a murmur. He
was alone with the dead men of a dead civilization.
What though the outer city reeked of the garish
nineteenth century ? In all this chamber there was
scarce an article, from the shriveled ear of wheat to
the pigment box of the painter, which had not held
its own against four thousand years. Here were the

862 THE nno of troth .

flotsam and jetsam washed up by the great ocean
of time from that far-off empire. From stately
Thebes, from lordly Luxor, from the great tem-
ples of Heliopolis, from a hundred rifled tombs,
these relics had been brought. The student glanced
round at the long-silent figures who flickered
vaguely up through the gloom, at the busy toilers
who were now so restful, and he fell mto a reverent
and thoughtful mood. An unwonted sense of his
own youth and insignificance came ovei him.
Leaning back in his chair, he gazed dreamily down
the long vista of rooms, all silvery with the moon
shine, which extend through the whole wing of the
widespread building. His eyes fell upon the yellow
glare of a distant lamp.

John Yansittart Smith sat up on his chair with
his nerves all on edge. The light was advancing
slowly toward him, pausing from time to time, and
then coming jerkily onward. The bearer moved
noiselessly. In the utter silence there was no
suspicion of the pat of a footfalL An idea of rob-
bers entered the Englishman's head. He snuggled
up further into the corner. The light was two
rooms off. Now it was in the next chamber, and
still there was no sound. With something approach-
ing to a thrill of fear, the student observed a face,
floating in the air as it were, behind the flare of the
lamp. The figure was wrapped in shadow, but the
light fell full upon the strange, eager face. There was
no mistaking the metallic, glistening eyes and the
cadaverous skin. It was the attendant with whom
he had conversed.

THE RING OF THOTH, 863

Yansittart Smith's first impulse was to come for-
ward and address him. A few words of explana-
tion would set the matter clear, and lead doubtless
to his being conducted to some side door from which
he might make his way to his hotel. As the man
entered the chamber, however, there was something
so stealthy in his movements, and so furtive in his
expression, that the Englishman altered his inten-
tion. This was clearly no ordinary official walking
the rounds. The fellow wore felt-soled slippers,
stepped with a rising chest, and glanced quickly
from left to right, while his hurried, gasping breath-
ing thrilled the flame of his lamp. Vansittart
Smith crouched silently back into the corner and
watched him keenly, convinced that his errand was
one of secret and probably sinister import.

There was no hesitation in the other's movements.
He stepped lightly and swiftly across to one of the
great cases, and, drawing a key from his pocket, he
unlocKed it. From the upper shelf he pulled down
a mummy, which he bore away with him, and laid
it with much care and solicitude upon the ground.
By it he placed his lamp, and then squatting down
beside it in Eastern fashion, he began with long,
quivering fingers to undo the cere-cloths and band-
ages which girt it round. As the crackling rolls of
linen peeled off one after the other, a strong aroma-
tic odor filled the chamber, and fragments of scented
wood and of spices spattered down upon the marble
floor.

It was clear to John Yansittart Smith that this
mummy had never been unswathed before. The

SC}4: THE RING OF THOTH.

operation interested him keenly. He thrilled all
over with curiosity, and his bird -like head protruded
further and further from behind the door. When,
however, the last roll had been removed from the
four- thousand-year-old head, it was all that he could
do to stifle an outcry of amazement. First, a cas-
cade of long, black, glossy tresses poured over the
workman's hands and arms. A second turn of the
bandage revealed a low white forehead, with a pair
of delicately arched eyebrows. A third uncovered
a pair of bright, deeply fringed eyes, and a straight,
well-cut nose, while a fourth and last showed a
sweet, full, sensitive mouth, and a beautifully curved
chin. The whole face was one of extraordinary
loveliness, save for the one blemish that in
the center of the forehead there was a sinoie
irregular, coffee-colored splotch. It was a tri-
umph of the embalmer's art. Vansittart Smith's
eyes grew larger and larger as he gazed upon
it, and he chirruped in his throat with satis-
faction.

Its effect upon the Egyptologist was as nothing,
however, compared with that which it produced
upon the strange attendant. He threw his hands
up into the air, burst into a harsh clatter of words,
and then, hurling himself down upon the ground
beside the mummy, he threw his arms round her,
and kissed her repeatedly upon the lips and brow.
" Ma petite ! " he groaned in French. " Ma pauvre
petite ! " His voice broke with emotion, and his
innumerable wrinkles quivered and writhed, but the
student observed in the lamp-light that his shining

THE RI^G OF THOTH. 365

eyes were still as dry and tearless as two beads of
steel. For some minutes he lay, with a twitching
face, crooning and moaning over the beautiful head.
Then he broke into a sudden smile, said some words
in an unknown tongue, and sprung to his feet with
the vigorous air of one who has braced himself for
an effort.

In the center of the room there was a large cir-
cular case which contained, as the student had fre-
quently remarked, a magnificent collection of early
Egyptian rings and precious stones. To this the
attendant strode, and, unlocking it, he threw it open.
On the ledge at the side he placed his lamp, and
beside it a small earthenware jar which he had
drawn from his pocket. He then took a handful of
rings from the case, and with a most serious and
anxious face he proceeded to smear each in turn
with some liquid substance from the earthen pot,
holding them to the light as he did so. He was
clearly disappointed with the first lot, for he threw
them petulantly back into the case, and drew out
some more. One of these, a massive ring ^vith a
large crystal set in it, he seized and eagerly tested
with the contents of the jar. Instantly he uttered
a cry of joy, and threw out his arms in a wild ges-
ture which upset the pot and sent the liquid stream-
ino^ across the floor to the very feet of the EnHish-
man. The attendant drew a red handkerchief from
his bosom, and, mopping up the mess, he followed
it into the corner, where in a moment he found
himself face to face with his observer.

" Excuse me," said John Yansittart Smith, with

o66 THE RING OF TROTH.

all imaginable politeness ; " I have been unfortunate
enough to fall asleep behind this door."

" And 3^ou have been watching me ? " the other
asked in English, with a most venomous look on his
corpse-like face.

The student was a man of veracity. " I confess,"
said he, " that I have noticed your movements, and
that they have aroused my curiosity and interest in
the highest degree."

The man drew a long, fiamboyant-bladed knife
from his bosom. " You have had a very narrow
escape," he said ; " had I seen you ten minutes ago,
I should have driven this through your heart. As
it is, if you touch me or interfere with me in any
way you are a dead man."

" I have no wish to interfere with you," the
student answered. "My presence here is entirely
accidental. All I ask is that you will have the ex-
treme kindness to show me out through some side
door." He spoke with great suavity, for the man
was still pressing the tip of his dagger against the
palm of his left hand, as though to assure himself
of its sharpness, while his face preserved its malig-
nant expression.

" If I thought — " said he. " But no, perhaps it
is as well. What is your name ? "

The Englishman gave it.

" Vansittart Smith," the other repeated. '' Are
you the same Yansittart Smith who gave a paper in
London upon El Kab ? I saw a report of it. Your
knowledge of the subject is contemptible."

" Sir I " cried the Egyptologist.

THE RING OF TROTH. St>7

" Yet it is superior to that of many who make
even greater pretensions. The whole keystone of
our old life in Egypt was not the inscriptions or
monuments of which you make so much but was
our hermetic philosophy and mystic knowledge, of
which you say little or nothing."

" Our old life ! " repeated the scholar, wide-eyed ;
and then suddenly : " Good God, look at the
mummy's face ! "

The strange man turned and flashed his light
upon the dead woman, uttering a long, doleful cry
as he did so. The action of the air had already
undone all the art of the embalmer. The skin had
fallen away, the eyes had sunk inward, the dis-
colored lips had writhed away from the yellow
teeth, and the brown mark upon the forehead alone
showed that it was indeed the same face which had
shown such youth and beauty a few short minutes
before.

The man flapped his hands together in grief and
horror. Then mastering himself by a strong effort,
he turned his hard eyes once more upon the Eng-
lishman.

" It does not matter," he said, in a shaking voice.
" It does not really matter, I came here to-night
with the fixed determination to do something. It
is now done. All else is as nothing. I have found
my quest. The old curse is broken. I can rejoin
her. What matter about her inanimate shell so long
as her spirit is awaiting me at the other side of the
veil ! "

" These are wild words," said Yansittart Smith

368 THE RiyO OF TBOTH.

He was becoming more and more convinced that ha
had to do with a madman.

*' Time presses, and I must go," continued the
other. " The moment is at hand for which I nave
waited this weary time. But I must show you out
first. Come with me."

Takmg up the lamp, he turned from the disor-
dered chamber, and led the student swiftly through
the long series of the Egyptian, Assyrian, an Persian
apartments. At the end of the latter he pushed open
a small door let into the wall, and descended a wind-
ing stone stair. The Englishman felt the cold fresh
air of the night upon his brow. There was a door
opposite him which appeared to communicate with
the street. To the right of this another door stood
ajar, throwing a spurt of yellow light across the
passage. " Come in here ! " said the attendant
shortly.

Vansittart Smith hesitated. He had hoped that
he had come to the end of his adventure. Yet his
curiosity was strong within him. He could not
leave the matter unsolved, so he followed his strange
companion into the lighted chamber.

It was a small room, such as is devoted to a concierge.
A wood fire sparkled in the grate. At one side stood
a truckle bed, and at the other a coarse wooden
chair, with a round table in the center, which bore
the remains of a meal. As the visitor's eye
glanced round he could not but remark with
an ever-recurring thrill that all the small details
of the room were of the most quaint design and
antique workmanship. The candlesticks, the vases

THE RIXG OF THOTH. 3Gi>

upon the chiraney-piece, the fire-irons, the orna-
ments upon the walls, were all such as he had been
wont to associate with the remote past. The
gnarled, heavy-eyed man sat himself down upon the
edge of the bed, and motioned his guest into the
chair.

" There may be design in this," he said, still speak-
ing excellent English. " It may be decreed that
I should leave some account behind as a warning to
all rash mortals who would set their wits up against
working's of Nature. I leave it with vou. Make
such use as you will of it. I speak to you now with
my feet upon the threshold of the other world.

" I am, as you surmised, an Egyptian — not one of
the down-trodden race of slaves w^ho now inhabit
the Delta of the Nile, but a survivor of that fiercer
and harder people who tamed the Hebrew, drove
the Ethiopian back into the southern deserts, and
built those mighty works which have been the envy
and the wonder of all after generations. It was in
the reign of Tuthraosis, sixteen hundred years be-
fore the birth of Christ, that I first saw the light.
You shrink away from me. Wait, and you will see
that I am more to be pitied than to be feared.-

" My name was Sosra. My father had been the
chief priest of Osiris in the great temple of Abaris,
which stood in those days upon the Bubastic branch
of the Nile. I was brought up in the temple and
was trained in all those mystic arts which are spoken
of in your own Bible. I was an apt pupil. Before
I was sixteen I had learned all which the wisest
priest could teach me. From that time on I studied

370 THE RING OF THOTH.

!N"ature's secrets for myself, and shared my knowl-
edge with no man.

"Of all the questions which attracted me there
were none over which I labored so long as over those
which concern themselves with the nature of life.
I probed deeply into the vital principle. The aim
of medicine had been to drive away disease when it
appeared. It seemed to me that a method might
be devised which should so fortify the body as to
prevent weakness or death from ever taking hold
of it. It is useless that I should recount my re-
searches. You would scarce comprehend them if I
did. They were carried out partly upon animals,
partly upon slaves, and partly on myself. Suffice it
that their result was to furnish me with a substance
which, when injected into the blood, would endow
the body with strength to resist the effects of time,
of violence, or of disease. It would not, indeed,
confer immortality, but its potency would endure
for many thousands of years. I used it upon a cat,
and afterward drugged the crec.ture with the most
deadly poisons. That cat is alive in Lower Egypt
at the present moment. There was nothing of mys-
tery or magic in the matter. It was simply a chem-
ical discovery, which may well be made again.

" Love of life runs high in the young. It seemed
to me that I had broken away from all human care
now that I had abolished pain and driven death to
such a distance. With a light heart I poured the
accursed stuff into my veins. Then I looked round
for some one whom I could benefit. There was a
young priest of Thoth, Parmes by name, who had won

TEE RING OF TROTH. 871

my good will by bis earnest nature and bis devotion
to bis studies. To bim I wbispered my secret, and at
bis request I injected bim witb my elixir. I sbould
now, I reflected, never be witbout a companion of
tbe same a^e as mvself.

" After tbis grand discovery I relaxed my studies
to some extent, but Parmes continued bis witb
redoubled energy. Every day I could see bim work-
ing witb bis flasks and bis distiller in tbe Temple
of Tbotb, but be said little to me as to tbe result of
bis labors. For my own part, I used to walk tbrougb
tbe city and look around me witb exultation as I
reflected tbat all tbis was destined to pass away,
and tbat only I sbould remain. Tbe people would
bow to me as tbey passed me, for tbe fame of my
knowledge bad gone abroad.

" Tbere was war at tbis time, and tbe great king
bad sent down bis soldiers to tbe eastern boundary
to drive away tbe Hyksos. A governor, too, was
sent to Abaris, tbat be migbt bold it for tbe king.
I bad beard mucb of tbe beauty of tbe daugbter of
tbis governor, but one day as I walked out witb
Parmes we met ber, borne upon tbe sboulders of
ber slaves. I was struck witb love as witb ligbtning.
My beart went out from me. I could bave tbrown
myself beneatb tbe feet of ber bearers. Tbis was my
woman. Life witbout ber was impossible. I swore
by tbe bead of Horus tbat sbe sbould be mine. I
swore it to tbe priest of Tbotb. He turned away
from me witb a brow wbicb was as black as midnigbt.

" Tbere is no need to tell you of our wooing. Sbe
came to love me even as I loved ber. I learned tbat

372 TEE RINO OF TEOTE.

Paraies had seen her before I did, and had shown
her that he too loved her ; but I could smile at his
passion, for I knew that her heart was mine. The
white plague had come upon the city, and many
were stricken, but I laid my hands upon the sick
and nursed them without fear or scathe. She mar-
veled at my daring. Then I told her my secret,
and begged her that she would let me use my art
upon her.

*' ' Your flower shall then be un withered, Atma,'
I said. ' Other things may pass away, but jovl and
I, and our great love for each other, shall outlive
the tomb of King Chefru.'

" But she was full of timid, maidenly objections.
* Was it right ? ' she asked, ' was it not a thwarting
of the will of the gods ? If the great Osiris had
wished that our years should be so long, would he
not himself have brought it about ? '

" With fond and loving words I overcame her
doubts ; and yet she hesitated. It was a great
question, she said. She w^ould think it over for this
one night. In the morning I should know her res-
olution. Surely one night was not too much to
ask. She wished to pray to Isis for help in her
decision.

" With a sinking heart and a sad foreboding of
evil, I left her with her tirewomen. In the morning,
when the early sacrifice was over, I hurried to her
house. A frightened slave met me upon the steps.
Her mistress was ill, she said, very ill. In a frenzy
I broke my way through the attendants, and rushed
through hall and corridor to my Atma's chamber.

THE RING OF TROTH. 873

She lay upon her couch, her head high upon the
pillow, with a pallid face and a glazed eye. On her
forehead there blazed a single angry purple patch.
I knew that hell-mark of old. It was the scar of
the white plague, the sign-manual of death.

" Why should I s])eak of that terrible time? For
months I Avas mad, fevered, delirious, and yet I
could not die. Never did an Arab thirst after the
sweet wells as I longed after death. Could poison
or steel have shortened the thread of my existence,
I should soon have rejoined my love in the land
with the narrow portal. I tried, but it was of no
avail. The accursed influence was too strong upon
me. One night as I lay upon my couch, weak and
w^eary, Parmes, the priest of Thoth, came to my
chamber. He stood in the circle of the lamp-light,
and he looked down upon me with eyes which were
bright with a mad joy.

" ' Why did you let the maiden die ? ' he asked ;
' wh}^ did you not strengthen her as you strengthened
me?'

" ' It was too late,' I answered. ' But 1 had forgot-
ten. You also loved her. You are my fellow in
misfortune. Is it not terrible to think of the cent-
uries which must pass ere we look upon her again?
Fools, fools, that we were to take death to be our
enemy ! '

" ' You may say that,' he cried, with a wild laugh ;
* the words come w^ell from your lips. For me they
have no meaning.'

" ' What mean you ? ' I cried, raising myself upon
my elbow. ' Surely, friend, this grief has turned

374: THE RING OF TROTH,

your brain.' His face was aflame with joy, and be
writhed and shook like one who hath a devil.

" ' Do you know whither I go ? ' he asked.

" ' Nay,' I answered, ' I cannot tell.'

" ' I go to her,' said he. ' She lies embalmed in
the further tomb by the double palm-tree beyond
the city wall.'

" ' Why do you go there ? ' I asked.

" * To die ! ' he shrieked, * to die ! I am not bound
by earthen fetters.'

" ' But the elixir is in your blood,' I cried.

" ' I can defy it,' said he ; ' I have found a stronger
principle which will destroy it. It is working in
my veins at this moment, and in an hour I shall be
a dead man. I shall join her, and you shall remair
behind.'

" As I looked upon him I could see that he spoke
words of truth. The light in his eyes told me that
he was indeed beyond the power of the elixir.

*' * You will teach me ! ' I cried.

" ' Never ! ' he answered.

" ' I implore you, by the wisdom of Thoth, by the
majesty of Anubis ! '

'• ' It is useless,' he said, coldly.

" ' Then I will find it out,' I cried.

" ' You cannot,' he answered ; ' it came to me by
chance. There is one ingredient which you can
never get. Save that which is in the ring of Thoth,
none will ever more be made.'

" ' In the ring of Thoth ! ' I repeated ; ' where,
then, is the ring of Thoth ? '

" * That also you shall never know,' he answered.

THE RING OF THOTH. 375

' You won her love. Who has won in the end ? I
leave you to your sordid earth life. My chains are
broken. I must go ! ' He turned upon his heel and
fled from the chamber. In the morning came the
news that the priest of Thoth was dead.

" My days after that were spent in study. I
must find this subtle poison which was strong enough
to undo the elixir. From early dawn to midnight I
bent over the test-tube and the furnace. Above all,
I collected the papyri and the chemical flasks of the
priest of Thoth. Alas ! they taught me little. Here
and there some hint or stray expression would raise
hope in my bosom, but no good ever came of it.
Still, month after month, I struggled on. When
my heart grew faint I would make my way to the
tomb by the palm-trees. There, standing by the
dead casket from which the jewel had been rifled, I
would feel her sweet presence, and would whisper
to her that I would rejoin her if mortal wit could
solve the riddle.

" Parmes had said that his discovery was con-
nected with the ring of Thoth. I had some remem-
brance of the trinket. It was a large and weighty
circlet, made, not of gold, but of a rarer and heavier
metal brought from the mines of Mount Harbal.
Platinum, you call it. The ring had, I remembered,
a hollow crystal set in it, in which some few drops of
liquid might be stored. Now, the secret of Parmes
could not have to do with the metal alone, for
there were many rings of that metal in the Temple.
"Was it not more likely that he had stored his pre-
cious poison within the cavity of the crystal ? I had

S7t> THE ri:nq of troth,

scarce come to this conclusion before, in hunting
through his papers, I came upon one which told me
that it was indeed so, and that there was still some
of the liquid unused.

" But how to find the ring? It was not upon him
when he was stripped for the embalmer. Of that I
made sure. Neither was it among his private effects
In vain I searched every room that he had entered,
every box, and vase, and chattel that he had owned.
I sifted the very sand of the desert in the places
where he had been wont to walk ; but, do what I
would, I could come upon no traces of the ring of
Thoth. Yet it may be that my labors would have
overcome all obstacles had it not been for a new and
unlooked-fo;:* misfortune.

" A great war had been waged against the Hyksos,
and the captains of the great king had been cut off
in the desert, with all their bowmen and horsemen.
The shepherd tribes were upon us like the locusts
in a dry year. From the wilderness of Shur to the
great bitter lake there was blood by day and fire
by night. Abaris was the bulwark of Egypt, but
we could not keep the savages back. The city
fell. The governor and the soldiers were put to the
sword, and I, with many more, was led away into
captivity.

" For years and years I tended cattle in the great,
plains by the Euphrates. My master died, and his
son grew old, but I was still as far from death as
ever. At last I escaped upon a swift camel, and
made my way back to Egypt. The Hyksos had
settled in the land which they had conquered, and

TEE RING OF TEOTE. 877

their own king ruled over the country. Abaris had
been torn down, the city had been burned, and of
the great temple there was nothing left save an un-
sightly mound. Everywhere the tombs had been
riiied and the monuments destroyed. 01" my Atma's
grave no sign was left. It was buried in the sands
of the desert, and the palm-trees which marked the
spot had long disappeared. The papers of Parmes
and the remains of the Temple of Thoth were either
destroyed or scattered far and wide over the deserts
of Syria. All search after them was vain.

" From that time I gave up all hope of ever find-
ing the ring or discovering the subtle drug. I set
myself to live as patiently as might be until the
effect of the elixir should wear away. Hov/ can
you understand how terrible a thing time is, you
who have experienced only the narrow course which
lies between the cradle and the grave ! I know it to
my cost, I who have floated down the whole stream
of history. I was old when Illium fell. I was
very old when Herodotus came to Memphis. I was
bowed down with years when the new Gospel came
upon earth. Yet you see me much as other men are,
with the cursed elixir still sweetening my blood, and
guarding me against that which I would court.
Now at last, at last, I have come to the end
of it!

" I have traveled in all lands and I have dwelt
with all nations. Every tongue is the same to me.
I learned them all to help pass the weary time. I
need not tell you how slowly they drifted by, the
long dawn of modern civilization, the dreary middle

17— Vol. 1

378 2'-^^' ^^^<^ 0^ THOTH.

years, the dark times of barbarism. They are all
behind me now. I have never looked with the eyes
of love upon another woman. Atma knows that 1
have been constant to her.

" It was my custom to read all that the scholars
had to say upon ancient Egypt. I have been in
many positions, sometimes affluent, sometimes poor,
but I have always found enough to enable me to
buy the journals which deal with such matters.
Some nine months ago I was in San Francisco, when
1 read an account of some discoveries made in the
neighborhood of Abaris. My heart leaped into my
mouth as I read it. It said that the excavator had
busied himself in exploring some- tombs recently
unearthed. In one there had been found an un-
opened mummy with an inscription upon the outer
case setting forth that it contained the body of the
daughter of the governor of the city in the daj^s of
Tuthmosis. It added that on removing the outer
case there had been exposed a large platinum ring
set with a crystal, which had been laid upon the
breast of the embalmed woman. This, then, was
where Parmes had hidden the ring of Thoth. He
might well say that it was safe, for no Egyptian
would ever stain his soul by moving even the outer
case of a buried friend.

" That very night I set off from San Francisco,
and in a few weeks I found myself once more at
Abaris, if a few sand-heaps and crumbling walls
may retain the name of the great city. I hurried to
the Frenchmen who were digging there and asked
them for the ring. They replied that both the ring

THE RING OF THOTH. 379

and the mummy had been sent to the Boukik
Museum at Cah'o. To Boulak I went, but only to
be told that Mariette Bey had claimed them and
had shipped them to the Louvre. I followed them,
and there at last, in the Egyptian chamber, I came,
after close upon four thousand years, upon the re-
mains of my Atma, and upon the ring for which I
had sought so long.

'' But how was I to lay hands upon them? How
was I to have them for my very own ? It chanced
that the office of attendant was vacant. I went to
the director. I convinced him that I knew much
about Egypt. In my eagerness I said too much.
He remarked that a professor's chair would suit me
better than a seat in the conciergerie. I knew more,
he said, than he did. It was only by blundering
and letting him think that he had over-estimated
my knowledge, that I prevailed upon him to let me
move the few effects which I have retained into
this chamber. It is my first and my last night
here.

" Such is my story, Mr. Yansittart Smith. I need
not say more to a man of your perception. By a
strange chance you have this night looked upon the
face of the woman whom I loved in those far-off
days. There were many rings with crystals in the
case, and I had to test for the platinum to be sure
of the one which I wanted. A glance at the crystal
has shown me that the liquid is indeed within it,
and that I shall at last be able to shake off that
accursed health which has been worse to me than
the foulest disease. I have nothing more to say to

380 TEE RIXG OF TROTH.

you. I have unburdened myself. You may tell my
story or you may withhold it at your pleasure. The
choice rests with you. I owe you some amends, for
you have had a narrow escape of your life this
night. I was a desperate man, and not to be balked
in my purpose. Had I seen you before the thing
was done, I might have put it beyond your
power to oppose me or raise an alarm. This is
the door. It leads into the Rue de Rivoli. Good
night ! "

The Englishman glanced back. For a moment
the lean figure of Sosra the Egyptian stood framed
in the narrow doorway. The next the door had
slammed, and the heavy rasping of a bolt broke on
the silent night.

It was on the second day after his return to Lon-
don that Mr. John Yansittart Smith saw the follow-
ing concise narrative in the Paris correspondence of
the Times:

" Curious Occurrence in the Louvre. — Yesterday
morning a strange discovery was made in the prin-
cipal Egyptian chamber. The ouvriers who are em-
ployed to clean out the rooms in the morning found
one of the attendants lying dead upon the floor with
his arms round one of the mummies. So close was
his embrace that it was only Avith the utmost difli-
culty that they were separated. One of the cases
containing valuable rings had been opened and rifled.
The authorities are of opinion that the man was
bearing away the mummy with some idea of
selling it to a private collector, but that he was
struck down in the very act by long-standing dis-

THE RIXG OF TUOTH. 881

ease of the heart. It is said that he was a man of
uncertain age and eccentric habits, without any
living relations to mourn over his dramatic and
untimely end."

JOHN HUXFORD'S HIATUS.

Strange it is and wonderful to mark how upon
this planet of ours the smallest and most insignifi-
cant of events set a train of consequences in motion
which act and react until their final results are por-
tentous and incalculable. Set a force rolling, how-
ever small, and who can say where it shall end, or
what it may lead to ! Trifles develop into tragedies,
and the bagatelle of one day ripens into the catas-
trophe of the next. An oyster throws out a secre-
tion to surround a grain of sand, and so a pearl comes
into being; a pearl diver fishes it up ; a merchant
buys it and sells it to a jeweler, who disposes of it
to a customer. The customer is robbed of it by two
scoundrels, who quarrel over the booty. One s\B.ys
the other, and perishes himself upon the scaffold.
Here is a direct chain of events with a sick mollusk
for its first link, and a gallows for its last one. Had
that grain of sand not chanced to wash in between
the shells of the bivalve, two living, breathing beings
with all their potentialities for good and for evil
would not have been blotted out from among their
fellows. Who shall undertake to judge what is

really small and what is great ?

383

8S-i jony HuxFORD's hiatus.

Thus when in the year 1821, Don Diego Salvador
bethought him that if it paid the heretics in Eng-
land to import the bark of his cork oaks, it Avould
pay him also to found a factory by which the corks
might be cut and sent out ready made, surely at
first sight no very vital human interests would ap-
pear to be affected. Yet there were poor folk who
would suffer, and suffer acutely —women who w^ould
weep, and men who would become sallow and hun-
gry-looking and dangerous in places of which the
don had never heard, and all on account of that one
idea which had flashed across him as he strutted,
cigarettiferous, beneath the grateful shades of his
limes. So crowded is this old globe of ours, and so
interlaced our interests, that one cannot thi^k a new
thought without some poor devil being the better
or the worse for it.

Don Diego Salvador was a capitalist, and the ab-
stract thought soon took'the concrete form of a square,
plastered building wherein a couple of hundred of
his swarthy countrymen worked with deft, nimble
fingers at a rate of pay which no English artisan
could have accepted. Within a few months, the
result of this new competition was an abrupt fall in
prices in the trade, which was serious for the largest
firms and disastrous for the smaller ones. A few
old-established houses held on as they w^ere, others
reduced their establishments and cut down their ex-
penses, while one or two put up their shutters and
confessed themselves beaten. In this last unfortu-
nate category was the ancient and respected firm
of Fairbairn Brothers of Brisport.

JOB}; HUXFORD'S lllATUH. 885

Several causes had led up to this disaster, though
Don Diego's dehut as a cork-cutter had brought
matters to a head. When a couple of generations
back, the original Fairbairn had founded the busi-
ness, Brisport was a little fishing town with no out-
let or occupation for her superfluous population.
Men were glad to have safe and continuous work
upon any terms. All this was altered now, for the
town was expanding into the center of a large dis-
trict in the west, and the demand for labor and
its remuneration had proportionately increased.
Again, in the old days, when carriage was ruinous
and communication slow, the vintners of Exeter
and of Barnstaple were glad to buy their corks
from their neighbor of Brisport ; but now the large
London houses sent down their travelers, who com-
peted with each other to gain the local custom,
until profits were cut down to the vanishing point.
For a long time the firm had been in a precarious
position, but this further drop in prices settled the
matter, and compelled Mr. Charles Fairbairn, the
acting manager, to close his establishment.

It was a murky, foggy Saturday afternoon in
November when the hands were paid for the last
time, and the old building was to be finally aban-
doned. Mr. Fairbairn, an anxious-faced, sorrow-
worn man, stood on a raised dais by the cashier
while he handed the little pile of hardly earned
shillings and coppers to each successive workman
as the long procession filed past his table. It was
usual with the employees to clatter away the instant
that they had been paid, like so many children let

886 JOR-N HUXFORD'S HIATUS.

out of school ; but to-day they waited, forming little
groups over the great dreary room, and discussing
in subdued voices the misfortune which had come
upon their employers, and the future which awaited
themselves. When the last pile of coins had been
handed across the table, and the last name checked
by the cashier, the whole throng faced silently
round to the man who had been their master, and
waited expectantly for any words which he might
have to say to them.

Mr. Charles Fairbairn had not expected this, and
it embarrassed him. He had waited as a matter of
routine duty until the wages were paid, but he was
a taciturn, slow-witted man, and he had not fore-
seen this sudden call upon his oratorical powers.
He stroked his thin cheek nervously with his long
white fingers, and looked down with weak, watery
eyes at the mosaic of upturned, serious faces.

" I am sorry that we have to part, my men," he
said at last in a crackling voice. ** It's a bad day
for all of us, and for Brisport too. For three years
we have been losing money over the works. We
held on in the hope of a change coming, but matters
are going from bad to worse. There's nothing for
it but to give it up before the balance of our for-
tune is swallowed up. I hope you may all be able
to get work of some sort before very long. Good-
by, and God bless you ! "

" God bless you, sir ! God bless you ! " cried a
chorus of rough voices. " Three cheers for Mr.
Charles Fairbairn ! " shouted a bright-eyed, smart
young fellow, springing upon a bench and waving

JOHN BUXFORD'S HIATUS. 387

his peaked cap in the air. The crowd responded to
the call, but their huzzas wanted the true ring which
only a joyous heart can give. Then they began to
flock out into the sunlight, looking back as they
went at the long deal tables and the cork-strewn
floor — above all at the sad-faced, solitary man,
whose cheeks were flecked with color at the rough
cordiality of their farewell.

" Huxford," said the cashier, touching on the
shoulder the young fellow who had led the cheer-
ing, " the governor wants to speak to you."

The workman turned back and stood swinofinor
his cap awkwardly in front of his ex-employer,
while the crowd pushed on until the doorway was
clear, and the heavy fog wreaths rolled unchecked
into the deserted factor}^

" Ah, John ! " said Mr. Fairbairn, coming sud-
denly out of his reverie and taking up a letter from
the table. " You have been in my service since you
were a boy, and you have shown that you merited
the trust which I have placed in you. From what
I have heard, I think I am right in saying that this
sudden want of work will affect your plans more
than it will many of my other hands."

" I was to be married at Shrovetide," the man
answered, tracing a pattern upon the table with his
horny forefinger. " I'll have to find work first."

" And work, my poor fellow, is by no means easy
to find. You see you have been in this groove all
your life, and are unfit for anything else. It's true
you've been my foreman, but even that won't help
you, for the factories all over England are discharg-

388 JOHN EUXFORD'8 HIATUS.

ing hands, and there's not a vacancy to be had.
It's a bad outlook for you and such as you."

" What would you advise, then, sir ? " asked John
Huxford.

" That's what I was coming to. I have a letter
here from Sheridan & Moore, of Montreal, asking
for a good hand to take charge of a work-room. If
you think it will suit you, you can go out by the
next boat. The wages are far in excess of anything
which I have been able to give you."

" Why, sir, this is real kind of you," the young
workman said, earnestly. " She — my girl — Mary,
will be as grateful to you as I am. I know what
you say is right, and that if I had to look for work
I should be likely to spend the' little that I have laid
by toward housekeeping before I found it. But,
sir, with your leave I'd like to speak to her about
it before I made up my mind. Could you leave it
open for a few hours ? "

" The mail goes out to-morrow," Mr. Fairbairn
answ^ered. " If you decide to accept you can write
to-night. Here is their letter, which will give you
their address.'^

John Huxford took the precious paper with a
grateful heart. An hour ago his future had been all
black, but now this rift of light had broken in the
west, giving promise of better things. , He would
have liked to have said something expressive of his
feelings to his emploj^er, but the English nature is
not effusive, and he could not get beyond a few
choking, awkward words which were as awkwardly
received by his benefactor. With a scrape and a

JOES' HUXFORD'S HI1TV8. 389

bow, he turned on bis heel, and plunged out into the
foggy street.

So thick was the vapor that the houses over the
way were onl}'' a vague loom, but the foreman hur-
ried on with springy steps through side streets and
winding lanes, past walls where the fishermen's nets
were drying, and over cobble-stoned alleys redolent
of herring, until he reached a modest line of white-
washed cottages fronting the sea. At the door of
one of these the young man tapped, and then with-
out waiting for a response, pressed down the latch
and walked in.

An old, silvery -haired woman and a young girl
hardly out of her teens were sitting on either side
of the fire, and the latter sprung to her feet as he
entered.

" You've got some good news, John," she cried
putting her hands upon his shoulders, and looking
into his eyes. " I can tell it from your step. Mr.
Fair bairn is going to carry on after all."

" No, dear, not so good as that," John Huxford
answered, smoothing back her rich brown hair;
" but I have an offer of a place in Canada, with
good money, and if you think as 1 do, I shall go
out to it, and you can follow with the granny when-
ever I have made all straight for you at the other
side. What say you to that, my lass ? "

" Why, surely, John, what you think is right
must be for the best," said the girl, quietly, with
trust and confidence in her pale, plain face and lov-
ing, hazel eyes. " But poor granny, how is she to
cross the seas I "

390 '^OHN nUXFORD'8 HIATUS.

"Oh, never mind about me," the old Avoman
broke in cheerfull3\ " I'll be no drag on you. If
you want granny, granny's not too old to travel ;
and if you don't want her, why, she can look after
the cottage, and have an English home ready for
you whenever you turn back to the old country."

'' Of course we shall need you, granny," John
Huxford said, with a cheery laugh. " Fancy leav-
ing granny behind ! That would never do, Mary.
But if you both come out, and if we are married all
snug and proper at Montreal, we'll look through
the whole city until we find a house something like
this one, and we'll have creepers on the outside just
the same, and when the doors are shut and we sit
around the fire on the winter's nights, I'm hanged
if we'll be able to tell that we're not at home. Be-
sides, Mary, it's the same speech out there, the same
king, and the same flag ; it's not like a foreign
country."

" No, of course not," Mary answered with con-
viction. She was an orphan with no living relation
save her old grandmother, and no thought in life
but to make a helpful and worthy wife to the man
she loved. Where these two were she could not
fail to find happiness. If John went to Canada,
then Canada became home to her, for what had
Brisport to offer when he was gone ?

"I'm to write to-night, then, and accept?" the
young man asked. " I knew you would both be of
the same mind as myself, but of course I couldn't
close with the offer until we had talked it over. I
can get started in a week or two, and then in a

JOHN HUXFORTrfi HIATUS. 39L

couple of months I'll have all ready for you on the
other side."

" It will be a weary, weary time until we hear from
you, dear John," said Mary, clasping his hand ; " but
it's God's will, and we must be patient. Here's pen
and ink. You can sit at the table and write the letter
which is to take the three of us across the Atlantic."
Strange how Don Diego's thoughts were molding
human lives in the little Devon village.

The acceptance was duly despatched, and John
Huxford began immediately to prepare for his de-
parture, for the Montreal firm had intimated that
the vacancy was a certainty, and that the chosen
man might come out without delay to take over his
duties. In a very few days his scanty outfit was
completed, and he started off in a coasting vessel for
Liverpool, where he was to catch the passenger ship
for Quebec.

" Eemember, John," Mary whispered, as he
pressed her to his heart upon the Brisport quay,
" the cottage is our own, and come what may, we
have always that to fall back upon. If things
should chance to turn out badly over there, we
have always a roof to cover us. There you will
find me until 3^ou send word to us to come."

" And that will be very soon, my lass," he an-
swered, cheerfully, with a last embrace. " Good-
by, granny ; good-by." The ship was a mile and
more from the land before he lost sight of the
figures of the straight, slim girl and her old com-
panion, who stood watching and waving to him from
the end of the gray stone quay. It was with a sink-

S\)2 JOHN BUXFORD'8 HIATUS.

ing heart and a vague feeling of impending disaster
that he saw them at last as minute specks in the
distance, walking town ward and disappearing amid
the crowd who lined the beach.

From Liverpool the old woman and her grand-
daughter received a letter from John announcing
that he was just starting in the bark " St. Law-
rence," and six \veeks afterward a second lono^er
epistle informed them of his safe arrival at Quebec,
and gave them his first impressions of the country.
After that a long unbroken silence set in. Week
after week and month after month passed by, and
never a word came from across the seas. A year
went over their heads, and yet another, but no news
of the absentee. Sheridan & Moore were written
to, and replied that though John Huxford's letter
had reached them, he had never presented himself,
and they had been forced to fill up the vacancy as
best they could. Still, Mary and her grandmother
hoped against hope, and looked out for the letter-
carrier every morning with such eagerness that the
kind-hearted man would often make a detour rather
than pass the two pale, anxious faces which peered
at him from the cottage window. At last, three
years after the young foreman's disappearance, old
granny died, and Mary was left alone, a broken,
sorrowful woman, living as best she might on a
small annuity which had descended to her, and eat-
ing her heart out as she brooded over the mystery
which hung over the fate of her lover.

Among the shrewd west-country neighbors there
had long, however, ceased to be any mystery in the

JOHN HUXFORD'fi HIATUS. 393

matter. Huxford ain'ived safely in Canada — so
much was proved by his letter. Had he met with
his end in any sudden way during the journey be-
tween Quebec and Montreal, there must have been
some official inquiry, and his luggage would have
sufficed to have established his identity. Yet the
Canadian police had been communicated with, and
had returned a positive answer that no inquest had
been held, or any body found which could by any
possibility be that of the young Englishman. The
only alternative appeared to be that he had taken
the first opportunity to break all the old ties, and
had slipped away to the backwoods or to the States
to commence life anew under an altered name.
Why he should do this no one professed to know,
but that he had done it appeared only too probable
from the facts. Hence many a deep growl of
righteous anger rose from the brawny smacksmen
when Mary, with her pale face and sorrow-sunken
head, passed along the quays on her way to her
daily marketing ; and it is more than likely that if
the missing man had turned up in Erisport he might
have met with some rough words or rougher usage,
unless he could give some very good reason for his
strange conduct. This popular view of the case
never, however, occurred to the simple, trusting
heart of the lonely girl ; and as the years rolled by,
her grief and her suspense were never for an instant
tinged with a doubt as to the good faith of the
missing man. From youth she grew into middle
age, and from that into the autumn of her life,
patient, long-suffering, and faithful, doing good as

39-1 JOe:n buxford's hiatus.

far as lay in her power, and waiting humbly until
fate should restore, either in this world or the
next, that which it had so mysteriously deprived
her of.

In the meantime neither the opinion held bj^ the
minority, that John Huxford was dead, nor that of
the majority, which pronounced him to be faithless,
represented the true state of the case. Still alive,
and of stainless honor, he had yet been singled out
by fortune as her victim in one of those strange
freaks which are of such rare occurrence, and so be-
yond the general experience, that they might be
put by as incredible, had we not the most trust-
worthy evidence of their occasional possibility.

Landing at Quebec, with his heart full of hope
and courage, John selected a dingy room in a back
street, where the terms were less exorbitant than else-
where, and conveyed thither the two boxes which
contained bis worldly goods. After taking up his
quarters there, he had half a mind to change again,
for the landlady and the fellowJodgers were by no
means to his taste ; but the Montreal coach started
within a day or two, and he consoled himself by the
thought that the discomfort would only last for that
short time. Having written home to Mary to an-
nounce his safe arrival, he employed himself in seeing
as much of the town as was possible, walking about
all day, and only returning to his room at night.

It happened, however, that the house on which
the unfortunate 3^outh had pitched was one which
was notorious for the character of its inmates. He
had been directed to it by a pimp, who found reg-

JOHN HVXFORD'S HIATUS. 395

ular employment in hanging about the docks and
decoying newcomers to this den. The fellow's
specious manner and proffered civility had led the
simple-hearted west-countryman into the toils, and
thouo^h his instinct told him that he was in unsafe
company, he refrained, unfortunately, from at once
making his escape. He contented himself with
staying out all day, and associating as little as pos-
sible with the other inmates. From the few words
which he did let drop, however, the landlady gathered
that he was a stranger without a single friend in
the country to inquire after him should misfortune
overtake him.

The house had an evil reputation for the hocus-
sing of sailors, which was done not only for the
purpose of plundering them, but also to supply outgo-
ing ships with crews, the men being carried on board
insensible, and not coming to until the ship was
well down the St. Lawrence. This trade caused
the wretches who followed it to be experts in the
use of stupefying drugs, and they determined to
practise their arts upon their friendless lodger,
so as to have an opportunity of ransacking his
effects, and of seeing what it might be worth their
while to purloin. During the day he invariably
locked his door and carried off the key in his pocket,
but if they could render him insensible for the night
they could examine his boxes at their leisure, and
deny afterward that he had ever brought with him
the articles which he missed. It happened, there-
fore, upon the eve of Huxford's departure from
Quebec, that he found, upon returning to his lodg-

g96 JOH.V HUXFORD'S HIATUS.

ings, that his landlady and her two ill-favored sons,
who assisted her in her trade, were waiting up for
him over a bowl of punch, which they cordially in-
vited him to share. It was a bitterly cold night,
and the fragrant steam overpowered any suspicions
which the young Englishman may have entertained ;
so he drained off a bumper, and then, retiring to his
bedroom, threw himself upon his bed without un-
dressing, and fell straight into a dreamless slumber,
in which he still lay when the three conspirators
crept into his chamber, and, having opened his
boxes, began to investigate his effects.

It may have been that the speedy action of the
drug caused its effect to be evanescent, or, perhaps,
that the strong constitution of the victim threw it
off with unusual rapidity. Whatever the cause, it
is certain that John Huxford suddenly came to him-
self, and found the foul trio squatted round their
booty, which they were dividing into the two cate-
gories of what was of value and should be taken,
and what was valueless and might therefore be left.
With a bound he sprung out of bed, and seizing the
fellow nearest him by the collar, he slung him through
the open doorway. His brother rushed at him, but
the young Devonshire man met him with such a facer
that he dropped in a heap upon the ground. Unfor-
tunately,- the violence of the blow caused him to
overbalance himself, and, tripping over his prostrate
antagonist, he came down heavily upon his face.
Before he could rise, the old hag sprung upon his
back and clung to him, shrieking to her son to bring
the poker. John managed to shake himself clear of

JOHX iiuxFoinrs hiatus. 397

them both, but before lie could stand on his guard,
he was felled from behind by a crashing' blow from
an iron bar, which stretched him senseless upon the
floor.

" You've hit too hard, Joe," said the old woman,
looking down at the prostrate figure. " I heard the
bone go."

" If I hadn't fetched him down he'd ha' been too
many for us," said the young villain, sulkily.

" Still, you might ha' done it without killing him,
clumsy," said his mother. She had had a large
experience of such scenes, and knew the difference
between a stunning blow and a fatal one.

" lie's still breathing," the other said, examining
him ; " the back o' his head's like a bag o' dice
though. The skull's all splintered. He can't last.
What are we to do ? "

" He'll never come to himself again," the other
brother remarked. " Sarve him right. Look at my
face ! Let's see, mother ; who's in the house ? "

'' Only four drunk sailors."

" They wouldn't turn out for any noise. It's all
quiet in the street. Let's carry him doAvn a bit, Joe,
and leave him there. He can die there, and no one
think the worse of us."

" Take all the papers out of his pocket, then," the
mother suggested ; " they might help the police to
trace him. His watch, too, and his money — £3 odd ;
better than nothing. Now carry him softly, and
don't slip."

Kicking off their shoes, the two brothers carried
the dying man down-stairs and along the deserted

398 /OF.V EUXFOTtD'8 HIATUS.

street for a couple of hundred yards. There they
laid him among the snow, where he was found by
the night patrol, who carried him on a shutter to the
hospital. He was duly examined by the resident
surgeon, who bound up the wounded head, but gave
it as his opinion that the man could not possibly live
for more than twelve hours.

Twelve hours passed, however, and yet another
twelve, but John Huxford still struggled hard for
his life. When at the end of three days he was
found to be still breathing, the interest of the doc-
tors became aroused at his extraordinary vitality,
and they bled him, as the fashion was in those days
and surrounded his shattered head with ice-bags.
It may have been on account of these measures, or
it may have been in spite of them, but at the end of
a week's deep trance the nurse in charge was aston-
ished to hear a gabbling noise, and to find the stran-
ger sitting up on the couch and staring about him
with wistful, wondering eyes. The surgeons were
summoned to behold the phenomenon, and warmly
congratulated each other upon the success of their
treatment.

'* You have been on the brink of the grave, my
man," said one of them, pressing the bandaged head
back on to the pillow ; " you must not excite your-
self. What is your name ? "

No answer, save a wild stare.

" Where do you come from ? "

Again no answer.

" He is mad," one suggested. " Or a foreigner,'*
said another. " There were no papers on him when

JOE^ nUXFORD'S HIATUS. 399

be came in. His linen is marked ' J. 11.' Let us
try him in Frencli and German."

They tested him with as many tongues as they
could muster among them, but were compelled at
last to give the matter over and to leave their silent
patient still staring up wild-eyed at the whitewashed
hospital ceiling.

For many weeks John lay in the hospital, and for
many weeks efforts were made to gain some clew
as to his antecedents, but in vain. He showed, as
the time rolled by, not only by his demeanor, but
also by the intelligence with which he began to
pick up fragments of sentences, like a clever child
learning to talk, that his mind was strong enough
in the present, though it was a complete blank
as to the past. The man's memory of his whole
life before the fatal blow was entirely and ab-
solutely erased. He neither knew his name, his
language, his home, his business, nor anything else.
The doctors held learned consultations upon him,
and discoursed upon the center of memory and de-
pressed tables, deranged nerve-cells and cerebral
congestions, but all their polysyllables began and
ended at the fact that the man's memory was gone,
and that it was beyond the power of science to re-
store it. During the weary months of his convales-
cence he picked up reading and writing, but with
the return of his strength canie no return of his for-
mer life. England, Devonshire, Brisport, Mary,
Granny — the words brought no recollection to his
mind. All was absolute darkness. At last he was
discharged, a friendless, tradeless, penniless man.

400 JOF.V HUXFORD'8 HIATUS.

without a past, and with very little to look to in the
future. His very name was altered, for it had been
necessary to invent one. John Huxf ord had passed
away, and John Hardy took his place among man-
kind. Here was a strange outcome of a Spanish
gentleman's tobacco-inspired meditations.

John's case had aroused some discussion and
curiosity in Quebec, so that he was not suffered to
drift into utter helplessness upon emerging from the
hospital. A Scotch manufacturer named M'Kinlay
found him a post as porter in his establishment, and
for a long time he worked at seven dollars a week
at the loading and unloading of vans. In the course
of years it was noticed, however, that his memory,
however defective as to the past, was extremely
reliable and accurate when concerned with anything
which had occurred since his accident. From the
factory he was promoted into the counting-house,
and the year 1835 found him a junior clerk at a
salary of £120 a year. Steadily and surely John
Hardy fought his way upward from post to post,
with his whole heart and mind devoted to the busi-
ness. In 1840 he Avas third clerk, in 1845 he was
second, and in 1852 he became manager of the whole
vast establishment, and second only fo Mr. M'Kin-
lay himself.

There were few who grudged John this rapid
advancement, for it was obviously due to neither
chance nor favoritism, but entirely to his marvelous
powers of application and industry. From early
morning until late in the night he labored hard in
the service of his employer, checking, overlooking,

JOHN HUXFORD'H HIATUS. -iOl

superintending, setting an example to all of cheer-
ful devotion to duty. As he rose from one post to
another his salary increased, but it caused no alter-
ation in his mode of living, save that it enabled him
to be more open-handed to the poor. He signalized
his promotion to the managership by a donation of
£1000 to the hospital in which he had been treated
a quarter of a century before. The remainder of
his earnings he allowed to accumulate in the busi-
ness, drawing a small sum quarterly for his suste-
nance, and still residing in the humble dwelling
which he had occupied Avhen he was a warehouse
porter. In spite of his success he was a sad, silent,
morose man, solitary in his habits, and possessed
always of a vague, undefined yearning, a dull feel-
ing of dissatisfaction and of craving which never
abandoned him. Often he would strive with his
poor crippled brain to pierce the curtain which
divided him from the past, and to solve the enigma
of his youthful existence, but though he sat many
a time by the fire until his head throbbed with his
efforts, John Hardy could never recall the least
glimpse of John Huxford's history.

On one occasion he had, in the interests of the
firm, to journey to Quebec, and to visit the very
cork factory which had tempted him to leave Eng-
land. Strolling through the work-room with the
foreman, John automatically, and without knowing
what he was doing, picked up a square piece of the
bark, and fashioned it with two or three deft cuts
of his penknife into a smooth, tapering cork. His
companion picked it out of his hand and examined

18— Vol. 1

402 JOHN EUXFORD'S HIATUS.

it with the eye of an expert. " This is not the first
cork which you have cut by many hundred, Mr.
Hardy," he remarked. " Indeed you are wrong,"
John answered, smiling ; " I never cut one before
in my life." " Impossible ! " cried the foreman.
" Here's another bit of cork. Try again." John did
his best to repeat the performance, but the brains
of the manager interfered with the trained muscles
of the cork-cutter. The latter had not forgotten
their cunning, but they needed to be left to them-
selves, and not directed by a mind which knew
nothing of the matter. Instead of the smooth,
graceful shape, he could produce nothing but rough-
hewn, clumsy cylinders. " It must have been
chance," said the foreman, " but I could have sworn
that it Avas the work of an old hand ! "

As the years passed, John's smooth English skin
had warped and crinkled until he was as brown and
as seamed as a walnut. His hair, too, after many
years of iron-gray, had finally become as white as
the winters of his adopted country. Yet he was a
hale and upright old man, and when he at last re-
tired from the managership of the firm with which
he had been so long connected, he bore the weight
of his seventy years lightly and bravely. He was
in the peculiar position himself of not knowing his
own age, as it was impossible for him to do more
than guess at how old he was at the time of his
accident.

The Franco-German War came round, and while
the two great rivals were destroying each other,
their more peaceful neighbors were quietly ousting

JOn^ HUXFORD'S HIATUS. 403

them out of their markets and their commerce.
Many English ports benefited by this condition of
things, but none more than Brisport. It had long
ceased to be a fishing village, but was now a large
and prosperous town, with a great breakwater in
place of the quay on which Mary had stood, and a
frontage of terraces and grand hotels where all the
grandees of the west country came when they were
in need of a change. All these extensions had made
Brisport the center of a busy trade, and her ships
found their way into every harbor in the world.
Hence it was no wonder, especially in that very busy
year of 1870, that several Brisport vessels were lying
in the river and alongside the wharves of Quebec.
One day John Hardy, who found time hang a
little on his hands since his retirement from busi-
ness, strolled along by the water's edge, listening
to the clanking of the steam winches, and watching
the great barrels and cases as they were sw^ung
ashore and piled upon the wharf. He had observed
the coming in of a great ocean steamer, and having
waited until she was safely moored, he was turning
away, when a few words fell upon his ear, uttered
by some one on board a little weather-beaten bark
close by him. It was only some commonplace order
that was bawled out, but the sound fell upon the
old man's ears with a strange mixture of disuse and
familiarity. He stood by the vessel and heard the
seamen at their work, all speaking with the same
broad, pleasant, jingling accent. Why did it send
such a thrill through his nerves to listen to it ? He
sat down upon a coil of rope and pressed his hands

404 J^B'^' HUXFORD'S HIATUS.

to his temples, drinking in the long-forgotten dia-
lect, and trying to piece together in his mind the
thousand half-formed, nebulous recollections which
were surging up in it. Then he rose, and walking
along to the stern, he read the name of the ship,
the " Sunlight," Brisport. Brisport ! Again that
flush and tingle through every nerve. Why was
that word and the men's speech so familiar to him ?
He walked moodily home, and all night he lay toss-
ing and sleepless, pursuing a shadowy something
which was ever within his reach, and yet which
ever evaded him.

Early next morning he was up and down on the
wharf, listening to the talk of the west-country
sailors. Every word they spoke seemed to him to
revive his memory and bring him nearer to the
light. From time to time they paused in their
work, and seeing the white-haired stranger sitting
so silently and attentively, they laughed at him,
and broke little jests upon him. And even these
jests had a familiar sound to the exile, as they very
well might, seeing that they were the same which
he had heard in his youth, for no one ever makes a
new joke in England. So he sat through the long
day, bathing himself in the west-country speech, and
waiting for the light to break.

And it happened that when the sailors broke off
for their midday meal, one of them, either out of
curiosity or good nature, came over to the old
watcher and greeted him. So John asked him to
be seated on a log by his side, and began to put
many questions to him about the country from

JOH}^ nUXFORD'S niATUS. 405

which he came, and the town. All which the man
answered glibly enough, for there is nothing in the
world that a sailor loves to talk of so much as of
his native place, for it pleases him to show that he
is no mere wanderer, but that he has a home to re-
ceive him whenever he shall choose to settle down
to a quiet life. So the seaman prattled away about
the town hall and the Martellow Tower, and the
Esplanade, and Pitt Street and the High Street,
until his companion suddenly shot out a long, eager
arm and caught him by the wrist. " Look here,
man," he said in a low, quick whisper. " Answer
me truly as you hope for mercy. Are not the
streets that run out of the High Street, Fox Street,
Caroline Street, and George Street, in the order
named ? " They are," the sailor answered, shrink-
ing away from the wild, flashing eyes. And at that
moment John's memory came back to him, and he
saw, clear and distinct, his life as it had been and
as it should have been, with every minutest detail
traced as in letters of fire. Too stricken to cry out,
too stricken to weep, he could only hurry away
homeward, wildly and aimlessly — hurry as fast as
his aged limbs would carry him, as if, poor soub
there were some chance yet of catching up the fifty
years which had gone by. Staggering and tremu-
lous, he hastened on until a film seemed to gather
over his eyes, and throwing his arms into the air
with a great cry, '* Oh, Mary, Mary ! Oh, my lost,
lost life ! " he fell senseless upon the pavement.

The storm of emotion which had passed through
him, and the mental shock which he had undergone,

406 Jony huxford's hiatus.

would have sent many a man into a raging fever;
but John was too strong-willed and too practical to
allow his strength to be wasted at the very time
when he needed it most. Within a few days he
realized a portion of his property, started for New
York, and caught the first mail steamer to England.
Day and night, night and day, he trod the quarter-
deck, until the hardy sailors watched the old man
with astonishment, and marveled how any human
being could do so much upon so little sleep. It wsls
only by this unceasing exercise, by wearing down
his vitality until fatigue brought lethargy, that he
could prevent himself from falling into a very frenzy
of despair. He hardly dared ask himself what was
the object of this wild journey ? What did he ex-
pect ? Would Mary be still alive ? She must be
a very old woman. If he could but see her and
mingle his tears with hers, he would be content.
Let her only know that it had been no fault of his,
and that they had both been victims to the same
cruel fate. The cottage was her own, and she had
said that she Avould wait for him there until she
heard from him. Poor lass ! she had never reck-
oned on such a wait as this.

At last the Irish lights were sighted and passed,
Land's End lay like a blue fog upon the water, and
the great steamer plowed its way along the bold
Cornish coast until it dropped its anchor in Ply.
mouth Bay. John hurried to the railway station,
and within a few hours he found himself back once
more in his native town, which he had quitted, a
poor cork-cutter, half a century before.

JOHN nuxFOiws HIATUS. 407

But was it the same town ? AVere it not for the
name engraved all over the station and on the hotels,
John might have found a difficulty in believing it.
The broad, well-paved streets, with the tram lines
laid down the center, were very different from the
narrow, winding lanes which he could remember.
The spot upon which the station had been built was
now the very center of the town, but in the old
days it would have been far out in the fields. In
every direction lines of luxurious villas branched
away in streets and crescents bearing names which
were new to the exile. Great warehouses, and long
rows of shops with glittering fronts, showed him
how enormously Brisport had increased in wealth
as w^ell as in dimensions. It was only when he
came upon the old High Street that John began to
feel at home. It was much altered, but still it was
recognizable, and some few of the buildings were
just as he had left them. There was the place where
Fair bairn's cork works had been. It was now oc-
cupied by a great, brand-new hotel. And there was
the old orrav town hall. The wanderer turned down
beside it, and made his way with eager steps but a
sinkins: heart in the direction of the line of cottac^es
which he used to know so well.

It was not difficult for him to find where they
had been. The sea at least was as of old, and from
it he could tell where the cottages had stood. But
alas ! where were they now ? In their place an im-
posing crescent of high stone houses reared their
tall fronts to the beach. John walked wearily down
past their palatial entrances, feeling heart-sore and

408 JOHxY HVXFORD'S HIATUS.

despairing, when suddenly a thrill shot through him,
followed by a warm glow of excitement and of hope,
for, standing a little back from the line, and looking
as much out of place as a bumpkin in a ball-room,
was an old whitewashed cottage with wooden porch,
and walls bright with creeping plants. He rubbed
his eyes and stared again, but there it stood with
its diamond-paned windows and white muslin cur-
tains, the very same, down to the smallest details,
us it had been on the day when he last saw it.
Brown hair had become white, and fishing hamlets
had changed into cities, but busy hands and a faith-
ful heart had kept granny's cottage unchanged, and
ready for the wanderer.

And now, when he had reached his very haven
of rest, John Huxford's mind became more filled
with apprehension than ever, and he became so
deadly sick that he had to sit down upon one of
the beach benches which faced the cottage. An
old fisherman was perched at one end of it, smok-
ing his black clay pipe, and he remarked upon the
wan face and sad eyes of the stranger.

"You have overtired yourself," he said. "It
doesn't do for old chaps like you and me to forget
our years."

"I'm better now, thank you," John answered.
"Can you tell me, friend, how that one cottage
came among all those fine houses ? "

" AVhy," said the old fellow, thumping his crutch
energetically upon the ground, " that cottage be-
longs to the most obstinate woman in all England.
That woman, if you'll believe me, has been offered

JOE'S HUXFORD'8 HIATUS. , 409

the price of the cottage ten times over, and yet she
won't part with it. They have even promised to
remove it stone by stone, and put it up on some more
convenient place, and pay her a good round sum
into the bargain, but God bless you ! she wouldn't
so much as hear of it.'

" And why was that ? " asked John.

" Well, that's just the funny part of it. It's all
on account of a mistake. You see, her spark went
away when I was a youngster, and she's got it into
her head that he may come back some day, and that
ne won't know where to go unless the cottage is
there. Why, if the fellow were alive, he would
be as old as you, but I've no doubt he's dead long
ago. She's well quit of him, for he must have been
a scamp to abandon her as he did."

" Oh, he abandoned her, did he ? "

" Yes — went off to the States, and never so much
as sent a word to bid her good-by. It was a cruel
shame, it was, for the girl has been a- waiting and
a-pining for him ever since. It's my belief that
it's fifty years' weeping that blinded her."

" She is blind ! " cried John, half rising to his
feet.

" Worse than that," said the fisherman. " She's
mortal ill, and not expected to live. Why, look ye,
there's the doctor's carriage a- waiting at her door."

At these evil tidings, old John sprung up, and
hurried over to the cottage, where he met the phy-
sician returning to his brougham.

" How is your patient, doctor ? " he asked in a
trembling voice.

-tlO JOHls^ HUXFORD'S HIATUS.

" Very bad, very bad," said the man of medicine,
pompously. " If she continues to sink she will be
in great danger ; but if, on the other hand, she takes
a turn, it is possible that she may recover ; " with
which oracular answer he drove away in a cloud of
dust.

John Huxford was still hesitating at the door-
way, not knowing how to announce himself, or
how far a shock might be dangerous to the sufferer,
when a gentleman in black came bustling up.

" Can you tell me, my man, if this is where the
sick woman is ? " he asked.

John nodded, and the clergyman passed in, leav-
ing the door half open. The wanderer waited until
he had gone into the inner room, and then slipped
into the front parlor, where he had spent so many
happy hours. All was the same as ever, down to
the smallest ornaments, for Mary had been in the
habit, whenever anything was broken, of replacing
it with a duplicate, so that there might be no change
in the room. He stood irresolute, looking about
him, until he heard a woman's voice from the inner
chamber, and stealing to the door, he peeped in.

The invalid was reclining upon a couch, propped
up with pillows, and her face was turned full to-
ward John as he looked round the door. He could
have cried out as his eyes rested upon it, for there
were Mary's pale, plain, sweet, homely features as
smooth and as unchanged as though she were still
the half child, half woman whom he had pressed to
his heart on the Brisport quay. Her calm, eventless,
unselfish life had left none of those rude traces upon

JOHt^ HUXFORD'8 HIATUS. 411

her countenance which are the outward emblems of
internal conflict and an unquiet soul. A chaste mel-
ancholy had refined and softened her expression,
and her loss of sight had been compensated for by
that placidity which comes upon the faces of the
blind. With her silvery hair peeping out beneath
her snow-white cap, and a bright smile upon her
sympathetic face, she was the old Mary improved
and developed, with something ethereal and angelic
superadded.

" You will keep a tenant in the cottage," she was
saying to the clergyman, who sat with his back turned
to the observer. " Choose some poor, deserving
folk in the parish who will be glad of a home free.
And when he comes you will tell him that I have
waited for him until I have been forced to go on,
but that he will find me on the other side still faith-
ful and true. There's a little money, too — only a
few pounds — but I should like him to have it when
he comes, for he may need it, and then you will tell
the folk you put in to be kind to him, for he will be
grieved, poor lad, and to tell him that I was cheerful
and happy up to the end. Don't let him know that
I ever fretted, or he may fret too."

Now John listened quietly to all this from behind
the door, and more than once he had to put his hand
to his throat, but when she had finished, and when he
thought of her long, blameless, innocent life, and saw
the dear face looking straight at him, and yet unable
to see him, it became too much for- his manhood, and
he burst out into an irrepressible, choking sob which
shook his very frame. And then occurred a strange

412 JOHN HUXFORD'S HIATUS.

thing, for though he had spoken no word, the old
woman stretched out her arms to him, and cried,
" Oh, Johnny, Johnny ! Oh, dear, dear Johnny, you
have come back to me again ; " and before the parson
could at all understand what had happened, those
two faithful lovers were in each other's arms, weep-
ing over each other, and patting each other's silvery
head, with their hearts so full of joy that it almost
compensated for all that weary fifty years of
waiting.

It is hard to say how long they rejoiced together.
It seemed a very short time to them and a very long
one to the reverend gentleman, who was thinking at
last of stealing away, when Mary recollected his
presence and the courtesy which was due to him.
" My heart is full of joy, sir," she said ; ^' it is God's
will that I should not see my Johnny, but I can call
his image up as clear as if I had my eyes. Now
stand up, John, and I will let the gentleman see how
well I remember you. He is as tall, sir, as the
second shelf, as straight as an arrow, his face brown
and his eyes bright and clear. His hair is well-nigh
black, and his mustache the same — I shouldn't won-
der if he had whiskers as well by this time. Now, sir,
don't you think I can do without my sight ? " The
clergyman listened to her description, and looking
at the battered, white-haired man before him, he
hardly knew v/hether to laugh or to cry.

But it all proved to be a laughing matter in the
end, for, whether it was that her illness had taken
some natural turn, or that John's return had
startled it away, it is certain that from that day

JOHN BUXFORD'S HIATUS. 413

Mary steadily improved until she was as well as
ever. " No special license for me," John had said
sturdily. " It looks as if we were ashamed of what
we are doing, as though we hadn't the best right to
be married of any two folk in the parish." So the
bans were put up accordingly, and three times it
was announced that John Iluxford, bachelor, was
going to be united to Mary Howden, spinster, after
which, no one objecting, they were duly married
accordingly. " We may not have very long in this
world," said old John, " but at least we shall start
fair and square in the next."

John's share in the Quebec business was sold out,
and gave rise to a very interesting legal question as
to whether, knowing that his name was Huxford, he
could still sign that of Hardy, as was necessary for
the completion of the business. It was decided,
however, that on his producing two trustworthy
witnesses to his identity all would be right, so the
property was duly realized and produced a very
handsome fortune. Part of this John devoted to
building a pretty villa just outside Brisport, and the
heart of the proprietor of Beach Terrace leaped
within him when he learned that the cottage was at
last to be abandoned, and that it would no longer
break the symmetry and impair the effect of his
row of aristocratic mansions.

And there in their snug new home, sitting out on
the lawn in the summer-time, and on either side of the
fire in the winter, that worthy old couple continued
for many years to live as innocently and as happily
as two children. Those v;ho knew them well say

414 JOEt^ HUXFORD'8 HIATUS.

that there was never a shadow between them, and
that the love which burned in their aged hearts was
as high and as holy as that of any young couple who
ever went to the altar. And through all the country
round, if ever man or woman were in distress and
fighting against hard times, they had only to go up
to the villa to receive help, and that sympathy
which is more precious than help. So when at last
John and Mary fell asleep in their ripe old age,
within a few hours of each other, they had all the
poor and the needy and the friendless of the parish
among their mourners, and in talking over the
troubles which these two had faced so bravely,
they learned that their own miseries also were but
passing things, and that faith and truth can never
miscarry, either in this existence or the next.

THE END.

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