The case-book of Sherlock Holmes
was dragged from his lips. It was a terrible and unexpected one.
"'I wish to God he was!' he cried, and, tearing himself free, he dashed
from the room.
"You will think, Mr. Holmes, that I returned to my chair in no very
happy state of mind. The old man's words seemed to me to bear only one
interpretation. Clearly my poor friend had become involved in some
criminal, or, at the least, disreputable, transaction which touched the
family honour. That stern old man had sent his son away and hidden him
from the world lest some scandal should come to light. Godfrey was a
reckless fellow. He was easily influenced by those around him. No
doubt he had fallen into bad hands and been misled to his ruin. It was
a piteous business, if it was indeed so, but even now it was my duty to
hunt him out and see if I could aid him. I was anxiously pondering the
matter when I looked up, and there was Godfrey Emsworth standing before
me."
My client had paused as one in deep emotion.
"Pray continue," I said. "Your problem presents some very unusual
features."
"He was outside the window, Mr. Holmes, with his face pressed against
the glass. I have told you that I looked out at the night. When I did
so, I left the curtains partly open. His figure was framed in this
gap. The window came down to the ground and I could see the whole
length of it, but it was his face which held my gaze. He was deadly
pale--never have I seen a man so white. I reckon ghosts may look like
that; but his eyes met mine, and they were the eyes of a living man.
He sprang back when he saw that I was looking at him, and he vanished
into the darkness.
"There was something shocking about the man, Mr. Holmes. It wasn't
merely that ghastly face glimmering as white as cheese in the darkness.
It was more subtle than that--something slinking, something furtive,
something guilty--something very unlike the frank, manly lad that I had
known. It left a feeling of horror in my mind.
"But when a man has been soldiering for a year or two with brother Boer
as a playmate, he keeps his nerve and acts quickly. Godfrey had hardly
vanished before I was at the window. There was an awkward catch, and I
was some little time before I could throw it up. Then I nipped through
and ran down the garden path in the direction that I thought he might
have taken.
"It was a long path and the light was not very good but it seemed to me
something was moving ahead of me. I ran on and called his name, but it
was no use. When I got to the end of the path there were several
others branching in different directions to various outhouses. I stood
hesitating, and as I did so I heard distinctly the sound of a closing
door. It was not behind me in the house, but ahead of me, somewhere in
the darkness. That was enough, Mr. Holmes, to assure me that what I
had seen was not a vision. Godfrey had run away from me and he had
shut a door behind him. Of that I was certain.
"There was nothing more I could do, and I spent an uneasy night turning
the matter over in my mind and trying to find some theory which would
cover the facts. Next day I found the Colonel rather more
conciliatory, and as his wife remarked that there were some places of
interest in the neighbourhood, it gave me an opening to ask whether my
presence for one more night would incommode them. A somewhat grudging
acquiescence from the old man gave me a clear day in which to make my
observations. I was already perfectly convinced that Godfrey was in
hiding somewhere near, but where and why remained to be solved.
"The house was so large and so rambling that a regiment might be hid
away in it and no one the wiser. If the secret lay there, it was
difficult for me to penetrate it. But the door which I had heard close
was certainly not in the house. I must explore the garden and see what
I could find. There was no difficulty in the way, for the old people
were busy in their own fashion and left me to my own devices.
"There were several small outhouses, but at the end of the garden there
was a detached building of some size--large enough for a gardener's or
a gamekeeper's residence. Could this be the place whence the sound of
that shutting door had come? I approached it in a careless fashion, as
though I were strolling aimlessly round the grounds. As I did so, a
small, brisk, bearded man in a black coat and bowler hat--not at all
the gardener type--came out of the door. To my surprise, he locked it
after him and put the key in his pocket. Then he looked at me with
some surprise on his face.
"'Are you a visitor here?' he asked.
"I explained that I was and that I was a friend of Godfrey's.
"'What a pity that he should be away on his travels, for he would have
so liked to see me,' I continued.
"'Quite so. Exactly,' said he, with a rather guilty air. 'No doubt
you will renew your visit at some more propitious time.' He passed on,
but when I turned I observed that he was standing watching me,
half-concealed by the laurels at the far end of the garden.
"I had a good look at the little house as I passed it, but the windows
were heavily curtained, and, so far as one could see, it was empty. I
might spoil my own game, and even be ordered off the premises, if I
were too audacious, for I was still conscious that I was being watched.
Therefore, I strolled back to the house and waited for night before I
went on with my inquiry. When all was dark and quiet, I slipped out of
my window and made my way as silently as possible to the mysterious
lodge.
"I have said that it was heavily curtained, but now I found that the
windows were shuttered as well. Some light, however, was breaking
through one of them, so I concentrated my attention upon this. I was
in luck, for the curtain had not been quite closed, and there was a
crack in the shutter so that I could see the inside of the room. It
was a cheery place enough, a bright lamp and a blazing fire. Opposite
to me was seated the little man whom I had seen in the morning. He was
smoking a pipe and reading a paper."
"What paper?" I asked.
My client seemed annoyed at the interruption of his narrative.
"Can it matter?" he asked.
"It is most essential."
"I really took no notice."
"Possibly you observed whether it was a broad-leafed paper or of that
smaller type which one associates with weeklies."
"Now that you mention it, it was not large. It might have been _The
Spectator_. However, I had little thought to spare upon such details,
for a second man was seated with his back to the window, and I could
swear that this second man was Godfrey. I could not see his face, but
I knew the familiar slope of his shoulders. He was leaning upon his
elbow in an attitude of great melancholy, his body turned towards the
fire. I was hesitating as to what I should do when there was a sharp
tap on my shoulder, and there was Colonel Emsworth beside me.
"'This way, sir!' said he in a low voice. He walked in silence to the
house and I followed him into my own bedroom. He had picked up a
timetable in the hall.
"'There is a train to London at eight-thirty,' said he. 'The trap will
be at the door at eight.'
"He was white with rage, and, indeed, I felt myself in so difficult a
position that I could only stammer out a few incoherent apologies, in
which I tried to excuse myself by urging my anxiety for my friend.
"'The matter will not bear discussion,' said he abruptly. 'You have
made a most damnable intrusion into the privacy of our family. You
were here as a guest and you have become a spy. I have nothing more to
say, sir, save that I have no wish ever to see you again.'
"At this I lost my temper, Mr. Holmes, and I spoke with some warmth.
"'I have seen your son, and I am convinced that for some reason of your
own you are concealing him from the world. I have no idea what your
motives are in cutting him off in this fashion, but I am sure that he
is no longer a free agent. I warn you, Colonel Emsworth, that until I
am assured as to the safety and well-being of my friend I shall never
desist in my efforts to get to the bottom of the mystery, and I shall
certainly not allow myself to be intimidated by anything which you may
say or do.'
"The old fellow looked diabolical, and I really thought he was about to
attack me. I have said that he was a gaunt, fierce old giant, and
though I am no weakling I might have been hard put to it to hold my own
against him. However, after a long glare of rage he turned upon his
heel and walked out of the room. For my part, I took the appointed
train in the morning, with the full intention of coming straight to you
and asking for your advice and assistance at the appointment for which
I had already written."
Such was the problem which my visitor laid before me. It presented, as
the astute reader will have already perceived, few difficulties in its
solution, for a very limited choice of alternatives must get to the
root of the matter. Still, elementary as it was, there were points of
interest and novelty about it which may excuse my placing it upon
record. I now proceeded, using my familiar method of logical analysis,
to narrow down the possible solutions.
"The servants," I asked; "how many were in the house?"
"To the best of my belief there were only the old butler and his wife.
They seemed to live in the simplest fashion."
"There was no servant, then, in the detached house?"
"None, unless the little man with the beard acted as such. He seemed,
however, to be quite a superior person."
"That seems very suggestive. Had you any indication that food was
conveyed from the one house to the other?"
"Now that you mention it, I did see old Ralph carrying a basket down
the garden walk and going in the direction of this house. The idea of
food did not occur to me at the moment."
"Did you make any local inquiries?"
"Yes, I did. I spoke to the station-master and also to the innkeeper
in the village. I simply asked if they knew anything of my old
comrade, Godfrey Emsworth. Both of them assured me that he had gone
for a voyage round the world. He had come home and then had almost at
once started off again. The story was evidently universally accepted."
"You said nothing of your suspicions?"
"Nothing."
"That was very wise. The matter should certainly be inquired into. I
will go back with you to Tuxbury Old Park."
"To-day?"
It happened that at the moment I was clearing up the case which my
friend Watson has described as that of the Abbey School, in which the
Duke of Greyminster was so deeply involved. I had also a commission
from the Sultan of Turkey which called for immediate action, as
political consequences of the gravest kind might arise from its
neglect. Therefore it was not until the beginning of the next week, as
my diary records, that I was able to start forth on my mission to
Bedfordshire in company with Mr. James M. Dodd. As we drove to Euston
we picked up a grave and taciturn gentleman of iron-grey aspect, with
whom I had made the necessary arrangements.
"This is an old friend," said I to Dodd. "It is possible that his
presence may be entirely unnecessary, and, on the other hand, it may be
essential. It is not necessary at the present stage to go further into
the matter."
The narratives of Watson have accustomed the reader, no doubt, to the
fact that I do not waste words or disclose my thoughts while a case is
actually under consideration. Dodd seemed surprised, but nothing more
was said and the three of us continued our journey together. In the
train I asked Dodd one more question which I wished our companion to
hear.
"You say that you saw your friend's face quite clearly at the window,
so clearly that you are sure of his identity?"