RubyGems - git-scribe - Versions diffs - 0.0.4 → 0.0.5 - Mend

git-scribe 0.0.4 → 0.0.5

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-    <title>The Man with the Twisted Lip</title>
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-    <div class="content">
-      <div class="section" lang="en" xml:lang="en">
-<div class="titlepage"><div><div><h2 class="title" style="clear: both">
-<a id="_the_man_with_the_twisted_lip"></a>The Man with the Twisted Lip</h2></div></div></div>
-<p>Isa Whitney, brother of the late Elias Whitney, D.D., Principal
-of the Theological College of St. George’s, was much addicted to
-opium. The habit grew upon him, as I understand, from some
-foolish freak when he was at college; for having read De
-Quincey’s description of his dreams and sensations, he had
-drenched his tobacco with laudanum in an attempt to produce the
-same effects. He found, as so many more have done, that the
-practice is easier to attain than to get rid of, and for many
-years he continued to be a slave to the drug, an object of
-mingled horror and pity to his friends and relatives. I can see
-him now, with yellow, pasty face, drooping lids, and pin-point
-pupils, all huddled in a chair, the wreck and ruin of a noble
-man.</p>
-<p>One night—it was in June, '89—there came a ring to my bell,
-about the hour when a man gives his first yawn and glances at the
-clock. I sat up in my chair, and my wife laid her needle-work
-down in her lap and made a little face of disappointment.</p>
-<p>"A patient!" said she. "You’ll have to go out."</p>
-<p>I groaned, for I was newly come back from a weary day.</p>
-<p>We heard the door open, a few hurried words, and then quick steps
-upon the linoleum. Our own door flew open, and a lady, clad in
-some dark-coloured stuff, with a black veil, entered the room.</p>
-<p>"You will excuse my calling so late," she began, and then,
-suddenly losing her self-control, she ran forward, threw her arms
-about my wife’s neck, and sobbed upon her shoulder. "Oh, I’m in
-such trouble!" she cried; "I do so want a little help."</p>
-<p>"Why," said my wife, pulling up her veil, "it is Kate Whitney.
-How you startled me, Kate! I had not an idea who you were when
-you came in."</p>
-<p>"I didn’t know what to do, so I came straight to you." That was
-always the way. Folk who were in grief came to my wife like birds
-to a light-house.</p>
-<p>"It was very sweet of you to come. Now, you must have some wine
-and water, and sit here comfortably and tell us all about it. Or
-should you rather that I sent James off to bed?"</p>
-<p>"Oh, no, no! I want the doctor’s advice and help, too. It’s about
-Isa. He has not been home for two days. I am so frightened about
-him!"</p>
-<p>It was not the first time that she had spoken to us of her
-husband’s trouble, to me as a doctor, to my wife as an old friend
-and school companion. We soothed and comforted her by such words
-as we could find. Did she know where her husband was? Was it
-possible that we could bring him back to her?</p>
-<p>It seems that it was. She had the surest information that of late
-he had, when the fit was on him, made use of an opium den in the
-farthest east of the City. Hitherto his orgies had always been
-confined to one day, and he had come back, twitching and
-shattered, in the evening. But now the spell had been upon him
-eight-and-forty hours, and he lay there, doubtless among the
-dregs of the docks, breathing in the poison or sleeping off the
-effects. There he was to be found, she was sure of it, at the Bar
-of Gold, in Upper Swandam Lane. But what was she to do? How could
-she, a young and timid woman, make her way into such a place and
-pluck her husband out from among the ruffians who surrounded him?</p>
-<p>There was the case, and of course there was but one way out of
-it. Might I not escort her to this place? And then, as a second
-thought, why should she come at all? I was Isa Whitney’s medical
-adviser, and as such I had influence over him. I could manage it
-better if I were alone. I promised her on my word that I would
-send him home in a cab within two hours if he were indeed at the
-address which she had given me. And so in ten minutes I had left
-my armchair and cheery sitting-room behind me, and was speeding
-eastward in a hansom on a strange errand, as it seemed to me at
-the time, though the future only could show how strange it was to
-be.</p>
-<p>But there was no great difficulty in the first stage of my
-adventure. Upper Swandam Lane is a vile alley lurking behind the
-high wharves which line the north side of the river to the east
-of London Bridge. Between a slop-shop and a gin-shop, approached
-by a steep flight of steps leading down to a black gap like the
-mouth of a cave, I found the den of which I was in search.
-Ordering my cab to wait, I passed down the steps, worn hollow in
-the centre by the ceaseless tread of drunken feet; and by the
-light of a flickering oil-lamp above the door I found the latch
-and made my way into a long, low room, thick and heavy with the
-brown opium smoke, and terraced with wooden berths, like the
-forecastle of an emigrant ship.</p>
-<p>Through the gloom one could dimly catch a glimpse of bodies lying
-in strange fantastic poses, bowed shoulders, bent knees, heads
-thrown back, and chins pointing upward, with here and there a
-dark, lack-lustre eye turned upon the newcomer. Out of the black
-shadows there glimmered little red circles of light, now bright,
-now faint, as the burning poison waxed or waned in the bowls of
-the metal pipes. The most lay silent, but some muttered to
-themselves, and others talked together in a strange, low,
-monotonous voice, their conversation coming in gushes, and then
-suddenly tailing off into silence, each mumbling out his own
-thoughts and paying little heed to the words of his neighbour. At
-the farther end was a small brazier of burning charcoal, beside
-which on a three-legged wooden stool there sat a tall, thin old
-man, with his jaw resting upon his two fists, and his elbows upon
-his knees, staring into the fire.</p>
-<p>As I entered, a sallow Malay attendant had hurried up with a pipe
-for me and a supply of the drug, beckoning me to an empty berth.</p>
-<p>"Thank you. I have not come to stay," said I. "There is a friend
-of mine here, Mr. Isa Whitney, and I wish to speak with him."</p>
-<p>There was a movement and an exclamation from my right, and
-peering through the gloom, I saw Whitney, pale, haggard, and
-unkempt, staring out at me.</p>
-<p>"My God! It’s Watson," said he. He was in a pitiable state of
-reaction, with every nerve in a twitter. "I say, Watson, what
-o’clock is it?"</p>
-<p>"Nearly eleven."</p>
-<p>"Of what day?"</p>
-<p>"Of Friday, June 19th."</p>
-<p>"Good heavens! I thought it was Wednesday. It is Wednesday. What
-d’you want to frighten a chap for?" He sank his face onto his
-arms and began to sob in a high treble key.</p>
-<p>"I tell you that it is Friday, man. Your wife has been waiting
-this two days for you. You should be ashamed of yourself!"</p>
-<p>"So I am. But you’ve got mixed, Watson, for I have only been here
-a few hours, three pipes, four pipes—I forget how many. But I’ll
-go home with you. I wouldn’t frighten Kate—poor little Kate.
-Give me your hand! Have you a cab?"</p>
-<p>"Yes, I have one waiting."</p>
-<p>"Then I shall go in it. But I must owe something. Find what I
-owe, Watson. I am all off colour. I can do nothing for myself."</p>
-<p>I walked down the narrow passage between the double row of
-sleepers, holding my breath to keep out the vile, stupefying
-fumes of the drug, and looking about for the manager. As I passed
-the tall man who sat by the brazier I felt a sudden pluck at my
-skirt, and a low voice whispered, "Walk past me, and then look
-back at me." The words fell quite distinctly upon my ear. I
-glanced down. They could only have come from the old man at my
-side, and yet he sat now as absorbed as ever, very thin, very
-wrinkled, bent with age, an opium pipe dangling down from between
-his knees, as though it had dropped in sheer lassitude from his
-fingers. I took two steps forward and looked back. It took all my
-self-control to prevent me from breaking out into a cry of
-astonishment. He had turned his back so that none could see him
-but I. His form had filled out, his wrinkles were gone, the dull
-eyes had regained their fire, and there, sitting by the fire and
-grinning at my surprise, was none other than Sherlock Holmes. He
-made a slight motion to me to approach him, and instantly, as he
-turned his face half round to the company once more, subsided
-into a doddering, loose-lipped senility.</p>
-<p>"Holmes!" I whispered, "what on earth are you doing in this den?"</p>
-<p>"As low as you can," he answered; "I have excellent ears. If you
-would have the great kindness to get rid of that sottish friend
-of yours I should be exceedingly glad to have a little talk with
-you."</p>
-<p>"I have a cab outside."</p>
-<p>"Then pray send him home in it. You may safely trust him, for he
-appears to be too limp to get into any mischief. I should
-recommend you also to send a note by the cabman to your wife to
-say that you have thrown in your lot with me. If you will wait
-outside, I shall be with you in five minutes."</p>
-<p>It was difficult to refuse any of Sherlock Holmes' requests, for
-they were always so exceedingly definite, and put forward with
-such a quiet air of mastery. I felt, however, that when Whitney
-was once confined in the cab my mission was practically
-accomplished; and for the rest, I could not wish anything better
-than to be associated with my friend in one of those singular
-adventures which were the normal condition of his existence. In a
-few minutes I had written my note, paid Whitney’s bill, led him
-out to the cab, and seen him driven through the darkness. In a
-very short time a decrepit figure had emerged from the opium den,
-and I was walking down the street with Sherlock Holmes. For two
-streets he shuffled along with a bent back and an uncertain foot.
-Then, glancing quickly round, he straightened himself out and
-burst into a hearty fit of laughter.</p>
-<p>"I suppose, Watson," said he, "that you imagine that I have added
-opium-smoking to cocaine injections, and all the other little
-weaknesses on which you have favoured me with your medical
-views."</p>
-<p>"I was certainly surprised to find you there."</p>
-<p>"But not more so than I to find you."</p>
-<p>"I came to find a friend."</p>
-<p>"And I to find an enemy."</p>
-<p>"An enemy?"</p>
-<p>"Yes; one of my natural enemies, or, shall I say, my natural
-prey. Briefly, Watson, I am in the midst of a very remarkable
-inquiry, and I have hoped to find a clue in the incoherent
-ramblings of these sots, as I have done before now. Had I been
-recognised in that den my life would not have been worth an
-hour’s purchase; for I have used it before now for my own
-purposes, and the rascally Lascar who runs it has sworn to have
-vengeance upon me. There is a trap-door at the back of that
-building, near the corner of Paul’s Wharf, which could tell some
-strange tales of what has passed through it upon the moonless
-nights."</p>
-<p>"What! You do not mean bodies?"</p>
-<p>"Ay, bodies, Watson. We should be rich men if we had 1000 pounds
-for every poor devil who has been done to death in that den. It
-is the vilest murder-trap on the whole riverside, and I fear that
-Neville St. Clair has entered it never to leave it more. But our
-trap should be here." He put his two forefingers between his
-teeth and whistled shrilly—a signal which was answered by a
-similar whistle from the distance, followed shortly by the rattle
-of wheels and the clink of horses' hoofs.</p>
-<p>"Now, Watson," said Holmes, as a tall dog-cart dashed up through
-the gloom, throwing out two golden tunnels of yellow light from
-its side lanterns. "You’ll come with me, won’t you?"</p>
-<p>"If I can be of use."</p>
-<p>"Oh, a trusty comrade is always of use; and a chronicler still
-more so. My room at The Cedars is a double-bedded one."</p>
-<p>"The Cedars?"</p>
-<p>"Yes; that is Mr. St. Clair’s house. I am staying there while I
-conduct the inquiry."</p>
-<p>"Where is it, then?"</p>
-<p>"Near Lee, in Kent. We have a seven-mile drive before us."</p>
-<p>"But I am all in the dark."</p>
-<p>"Of course you are. You’ll know all about it presently. Jump up
-here. All right, John; we shall not need you. Here’s half a
-crown. Look out for me to-morrow, about eleven. Give her her
-head. So long, then!"</p>
-<p>He flicked the horse with his whip, and we dashed away through
-the endless succession of sombre and deserted streets, which
-widened gradually, until we were flying across a broad
-balustraded bridge, with the murky river flowing sluggishly
-beneath us. Beyond lay another dull wilderness of bricks and
-mortar, its silence broken only by the heavy, regular footfall of
-the policeman, or the songs and shouts of some belated party of
-revellers. A dull wrack was drifting slowly across the sky, and a
-star or two twinkled dimly here and there through the rifts of
-the clouds. Holmes drove in silence, with his head sunk upon his
-breast, and the air of a man who is lost in thought, while I sat
-beside him, curious to learn what this new quest might be which
-seemed to tax his powers so sorely, and yet afraid to break in
-upon the current of his thoughts. We had driven several miles,
-and were beginning to get to the fringe of the belt of suburban
-villas, when he shook himself, shrugged his shoulders, and lit up
-his pipe with the air of a man who has satisfied himself that he
-is acting for the best.</p>
-<p>"You have a grand gift of silence, Watson," said he. "It makes
-you quite invaluable as a companion. 'Pon my word, it is a great
-thing for me to have someone to talk to, for my own thoughts are
-not over-pleasant. I was wondering what I should say to this dear
-little woman to-night when she meets me at the door."</p>
-<p>"You forget that I know nothing about it."</p>
-<p>"I shall just have time to tell you the facts of the case before
-we get to Lee. It seems absurdly simple, and yet, somehow I can
-get nothing to go upon. There’s plenty of thread, no doubt, but I
-can’t get the end of it into my hand. Now, I’ll state the case
-clearly and concisely to you, Watson, and maybe you can see a
-spark where all is dark to me."</p>
-<p>"Proceed, then."</p>
-<p>"Some years ago—to be definite, in May, 1884—there came to Lee
-a gentleman, Neville St. Clair by name, who appeared to have
-plenty of money. He took a large villa, laid out the grounds very
-nicely, and lived generally in good style. By degrees he made
-friends in the neighbourhood, and in 1887 he married the daughter
-of a local brewer, by whom he now has two children. He had no
-occupation, but was interested in several companies and went into
-town as a rule in the morning, returning by the 5:14 from Cannon
-Street every night. Mr. St. Clair is now thirty-seven years of
-age, is a man of temperate habits, a good husband, a very
-affectionate father, and a man who is popular with all who know
-him. I may add that his whole debts at the present moment, as far
-as we have been able to ascertain, amount to 88 pounds 10s., while
-he has 220 pounds standing to his credit in the Capital and
-Counties Bank. There is no reason, therefore, to think that money
-troubles have been weighing upon his mind.</p>
-<p>"Last Monday Mr. Neville St. Clair went into town rather earlier
-than usual, remarking before he started that he had two important
-commissions to perform, and that he would bring his little boy
-home a box of bricks. Now, by the merest chance, his wife
-received a telegram upon this same Monday, very shortly after his
-departure, to the effect that a small parcel of considerable
-value which she had been expecting was waiting for her at the
-offices of the Aberdeen Shipping Company. Now, if you are well up
-in your London, you will know that the office of the company is
-in Fresno Street, which branches out of Upper Swandam Lane, where
-you found me to-night. Mrs. St. Clair had her lunch, started for
-the City, did some shopping, proceeded to the company’s office,
-got her packet, and found herself at exactly 4:35 walking through
-Swandam Lane on her way back to the station. Have you followed me
-so far?"</p>
-<p>"It is very clear."</p>
-<p>"If you remember, Monday was an exceedingly hot day, and Mrs. St.
-Clair walked slowly, glancing about in the hope of seeing a cab,
-as she did not like the neighbourhood in which she found herself.
-While she was walking in this way down Swandam Lane, she suddenly
-heard an ejaculation or cry, and was struck cold to see her
-husband looking down at her and, as it seemed to her, beckoning
-to her from a second-floor window. The window was open, and she
-distinctly saw his face, which she describes as being terribly
-agitated. He waved his hands frantically to her, and then
-vanished from the window so suddenly that it seemed to her that
-he had been plucked back by some irresistible force from behind.
-One singular point which struck her quick feminine eye was that
-although he wore some dark coat, such as he had started to town
-in, he had on neither collar nor necktie.</p>
-<p>"Convinced that something was amiss with him, she rushed down the
-steps—for the house was none other than the opium den in which
-you found me to-night—and running through the front room she
-attempted to ascend the stairs which led to the first floor. At
-the foot of the stairs, however, she met this Lascar scoundrel of
-whom I have spoken, who thrust her back and, aided by a Dane, who
-acts as assistant there, pushed her out into the street. Filled
-with the most maddening doubts and fears, she rushed down the
-lane and, by rare good-fortune, met in Fresno Street a number of
-constables with an inspector, all on their way to their beat. The
-inspector and two men accompanied her back, and in spite of the
-continued resistance of the proprietor, they made their way to
-the room in which Mr. St. Clair had last been seen. There was no
-sign of him there. In fact, in the whole of that floor there was
-no one to be found save a crippled wretch of hideous aspect, who,
-it seems, made his home there. Both he and the Lascar stoutly
-swore that no one else had been in the front room during the
-afternoon. So determined was their denial that the inspector was
-staggered, and had almost come to believe that Mrs. St. Clair had
-been deluded when, with a cry, she sprang at a small deal box
-which lay upon the table and tore the lid from it. Out there fell
-a cascade of children’s bricks. It was the toy which he had
-promised to bring home.</p>
-<p>"This discovery, and the evident confusion which the cripple
-showed, made the inspector realise that the matter was serious.
-The rooms were carefully examined, and results all pointed to an
-abominable crime. The front room was plainly furnished as a
-sitting-room and led into a small bedroom, which looked out upon
-the back of one of the wharves. Between the wharf and the bedroom
-window is a narrow strip, which is dry at low tide but is covered
-at high tide with at least four and a half feet of water. The
-bedroom window was a broad one and opened from below. On
-examination traces of blood were to be seen upon the windowsill,
-and several scattered drops were visible upon the wooden floor of
-the bedroom. Thrust away behind a curtain in the front room were
-all the clothes of Mr. Neville St. Clair, with the exception of
-his coat. His boots, his socks, his hat, and his watch—all were
-there. There were no signs of violence upon any of these
-garments, and there were no other traces of Mr. Neville St.
-Clair. Out of the window he must apparently have gone for no
-other exit could be discovered, and the ominous bloodstains upon
-the sill gave little promise that he could save himself by
-swimming, for the tide was at its very highest at the moment of
-the tragedy.</p>
-<p>"And now as to the villains who seemed to be immediately
-implicated in the matter. The Lascar was known to be a man of the
-vilest antecedents, but as, by Mrs. St. Clair’s story, he was
-known to have been at the foot of the stair within a very few
-seconds of her husband’s appearance at the window, he could
-hardly have been more than an accessory to the crime. His defence
-was one of absolute ignorance, and he protested that he had no
-knowledge as to the doings of Hugh Boone, his lodger, and that he
-could not account in any way for the presence of the missing
-gentleman’s clothes.</p>
-<p>"So much for the Lascar manager. Now for the sinister cripple who
-lives upon the second floor of the opium den, and who was
-certainly the last human being whose eyes rested upon Neville St.
-Clair. His name is Hugh Boone, and his hideous face is one which
-is familiar to every man who goes much to the City. He is a
-professional beggar, though in order to avoid the police
-regulations he pretends to a small trade in wax vestas. Some
-little distance down Threadneedle Street, upon the left-hand
-side, there is, as you may have remarked, a small angle in the
-wall. Here it is that this creature takes his daily seat,
-cross-legged with his tiny stock of matches on his lap, and as he
-is a piteous spectacle a small rain of charity descends into the
-greasy leather cap which lies upon the pavement beside him. I
-have watched the fellow more than once before ever I thought of
-making his professional acquaintance, and I have been surprised
-at the harvest which he has reaped in a short time. His
-appearance, you see, is so remarkable that no one can pass him
-without observing him. A shock of orange hair, a pale face
-disfigured by a horrible scar, which, by its contraction, has
-turned up the outer edge of his upper lip, a bulldog chin, and a
-pair of very penetrating dark eyes, which present a singular
-contrast to the colour of his hair, all mark him out from amid
-the common crowd of mendicants and so, too, does his wit, for he
-is ever ready with a reply to any piece of chaff which may be
-thrown at him by the passers-by. This is the man whom we now
-learn to have been the lodger at the opium den, and to have been
-the last man to see the gentleman of whom we are in quest."</p>
-<p>"But a cripple!" said I. "What could he have done single-handed
-against a man in the prime of life?"</p>
-<p>"He is a cripple in the sense that he walks with a limp; but in
-other respects he appears to be a powerful and well-nurtured man.
-Surely your medical experience would tell you, Watson, that
-weakness in one limb is often compensated for by exceptional
-strength in the others."</p>
-<p>"Pray continue your narrative."</p>
-<p>"Mrs. St. Clair had fainted at the sight of the blood upon the
-window, and she was escorted home in a cab by the police, as her
-presence could be of no help to them in their investigations.
-Inspector Barton, who had charge of the case, made a very careful
-examination of the premises, but without finding anything which
-threw any light upon the matter. One mistake had been made in not
-arresting Boone instantly, as he was allowed some few minutes
-during which he might have communicated with his friend the
-Lascar, but this fault was soon remedied, and he was seized and
-searched, without anything being found which could incriminate
-him. There were, it is true, some blood-stains upon his right
-shirt-sleeve, but he pointed to his ring-finger, which had been
-cut near the nail, and explained that the bleeding came from
-there, adding that he had been to the window not long before, and
-that the stains which had been observed there came doubtless from
-the same source. He denied strenuously having ever seen Mr.
-Neville St. Clair and swore that the presence of the clothes in
-his room was as much a mystery to him as to the police. As to
-Mrs. St. Clair’s assertion that she had actually seen her husband
-at the window, he declared that she must have been either mad or
-dreaming. He was removed, loudly protesting, to the
-police-station, while the inspector remained upon the premises in
-the hope that the ebbing tide might afford some fresh clue.</p>
-<p>"And it did, though they hardly found upon the mud-bank what they
-had feared to find. It was Neville St. Clair’s coat, and not
-Neville St. Clair, which lay uncovered as the tide receded. And
-what do you think they found in the pockets?"</p>
-<p>"I cannot imagine."</p>
-<p>"No, I don’t think you would guess. Every pocket stuffed with
-pennies and half-pennies—421 pennies and 270 half-pennies. It
-was no wonder that it had not been swept away by the tide. But a
-human body is a different matter. There is a fierce eddy between
-the wharf and the house. It seemed likely enough that the
-weighted coat had remained when the stripped body had been sucked
-away into the river."</p>
-<p>"But I understand that all the other clothes were found in the
-room. Would the body be dressed in a coat alone?"</p>
-<p>"No, sir, but the facts might be met speciously enough. Suppose
-that this man Boone had thrust Neville St. Clair through the
-window, there is no human eye which could have seen the deed.
-What would he do then? It would of course instantly strike him
-that he must get rid of the tell-tale garments. He would seize
-the coat, then, and be in the act of throwing it out, when it
-would occur to him that it would swim and not sink. He has little
-time, for he has heard the scuffle downstairs when the wife tried
-to force her way up, and perhaps he has already heard from his
-Lascar confederate that the police are hurrying up the street.
-There is not an instant to be lost. He rushes to some secret
-hoard, where he has accumulated the fruits of his beggary, and he
-stuffs all the coins upon which he can lay his hands into the
-pockets to make sure of the coat’s sinking. He throws it out, and
-would have done the same with the other garments had not he heard
-the rush of steps below, and only just had time to close the
-window when the police appeared."</p>
-<p>"It certainly sounds feasible."</p>
-<p>"Well, we will take it as a working hypothesis for want of a
-better. Boone, as I have told you, was arrested and taken to the
-station, but it could not be shown that there had ever before
-been anything against him. He had for years been known as a
-professional beggar, but his life appeared to have been a very
-quiet and innocent one. There the matter stands at present, and
-the questions which have to be solved—what Neville St. Clair was
-doing in the opium den, what happened to him when there, where is
-he now, and what Hugh Boone had to do with his disappearance—are
-all as far from a solution as ever. I confess that I cannot
-recall any case within my experience which looked at the first
-glance so simple and yet which presented such difficulties."</p>
-<p>While Sherlock Holmes had been detailing this singular series of
-events, we had been whirling through the outskirts of the great
-town until the last straggling houses had been left behind, and
-we rattled along with a country hedge upon either side of us.
-Just as he finished, however, we drove through two scattered
-villages, where a few lights still glimmered in the windows.</p>
-<p>"We are on the outskirts of Lee," said my companion. "We have
-touched on three English counties in our short drive, starting in
-Middlesex, passing over an angle of Surrey, and ending in Kent.
-See that light among the trees? That is The Cedars, and beside
-that lamp sits a woman whose anxious ears have already, I have
-little doubt, caught the clink of our horse’s feet."</p>
-<p>"But why are you not conducting the case from Baker Street?" I
-asked.</p>
-<p>"Because there are many inquiries which must be made out here.
-Mrs. St. Clair has most kindly put two rooms at my disposal, and
-you may rest assured that she will have nothing but a welcome for
-my friend and colleague. I hate to meet her, Watson, when I have
-no news of her husband. Here we are. Whoa, there, whoa!"</p>
-<p>We had pulled up in front of a large villa which stood within its
-own grounds. A stable-boy had run out to the horse’s head, and
-springing down, I followed Holmes up the small, winding
-gravel-drive which led to the house. As we approached, the door
-flew open, and a little blonde woman stood in the opening, clad
-in some sort of light mousseline de soie, with a touch of fluffy
-pink chiffon at her neck and wrists. She stood with her figure
-outlined against the flood of light, one hand upon the door, one
-half-raised in her eagerness, her body slightly bent, her head
-and face protruded, with eager eyes and parted lips, a standing
-question.</p>
-<p>"Well?" she cried, "well?" And then, seeing that there were two
-of us, she gave a cry of hope which sank into a groan as she saw
-that my companion shook his head and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
-<p>"No good news?"</p>
-<p>"None."</p>
-<p>"No bad?"</p>
-<p>"No."</p>
-<p>"Thank God for that. But come in. You must be weary, for you have
-had a long day."</p>
-<p>"This is my friend, Dr. Watson. He has been of most vital use to
-me in several of my cases, and a lucky chance has made it
-possible for me to bring him out and associate him with this
-investigation."</p>
-<p>"I am delighted to see you," said she, pressing my hand warmly.
-"You will, I am sure, forgive anything that may be wanting in our
-arrangements, when you consider the blow which has come so
-suddenly upon us."</p>
-<p>"My dear madam," said I, "I am an old campaigner, and if I were
-not I can very well see that no apology is needed. If I can be of
-any assistance, either to you or to my friend here, I shall be
-indeed happy."</p>
-<p>"Now, Mr. Sherlock Holmes," said the lady as we entered a
-well-lit dining-room, upon the table of which a cold supper had
-been laid out, "I should very much like to ask you one or two
-plain questions, to which I beg that you will give a plain
-answer."</p>
-<p>"Certainly, madam."</p>
-<p>"Do not trouble about my feelings. I am not hysterical, nor given
-to fainting. I simply wish to hear your real, real opinion."</p>
-<p>"Upon what point?"</p>
-<p>"In your heart of hearts, do you think that Neville is alive?"</p>
-<p>Sherlock Holmes seemed to be embarrassed by the question.
-"Frankly, now!" she repeated, standing upon the rug and looking
-keenly down at him as he leaned back in a basket-chair.</p>
-<p>"Frankly, then, madam, I do not."</p>
-<p>"You think that he is dead?"</p>
-<p>"I do."</p>
-<p>"Murdered?"</p>
-<p>"I don’t say that. Perhaps."</p>
-<p>"And on what day did he meet his death?"</p>
-<p>"On Monday."</p>
-<p>"Then perhaps, Mr. Holmes, you will be good enough to explain how
-it is that I have received a letter from him to-day."</p>
-<p>Sherlock Holmes sprang out of his chair as if he had been
-galvanised.</p>
-<p>"What!" he roared.</p>
-<p>"Yes, to-day." She stood smiling, holding up a little slip of
-paper in the air.</p>
-<p>"May I see it?"</p>
-<p>"Certainly."</p>
-<p>He snatched it from her in his eagerness, and smoothing it out
-upon the table he drew over the lamp and examined it intently. I
-had left my chair and was gazing at it over his shoulder. The
-envelope was a very coarse one and was stamped with the Gravesend
-postmark and with the date of that very day, or rather of the day
-before, for it was considerably after midnight.</p>
-<p>"Coarse writing," murmured Holmes. "Surely this is not your
-husband’s writing, madam."</p>
-<p>"No, but the enclosure is."</p>
-<p>"I perceive also that whoever addressed the envelope had to go
-and inquire as to the address."</p>
-<p>"How can you tell that?"</p>
-<p>"The name, you see, is in perfectly black ink, which has dried
-itself. The rest is of the greyish colour, which shows that
-blotting-paper has been used. If it had been written straight
-off, and then blotted, none would be of a deep black shade. This
-man has written the name, and there has then been a pause before
-he wrote the address, which can only mean that he was not
-familiar with it. It is, of course, a trifle, but there is
-nothing so important as trifles. Let us now see the letter. Ha!
-there has been an enclosure here!"</p>
-<p>"Yes, there was a ring. His signet-ring."</p>
-<p>"And you are sure that this is your husband’s hand?"</p>
-<p>"One of his hands."</p>
-<p>"One?"</p>
-<p>"His hand when he wrote hurriedly. It is very unlike his usual
-writing, and yet I know it well."</p>
-<p>"<span class="emphasis"><em>Dearest do not be frightened. All will come well. There is a
-huge error which it may take some little time to rectify.
-Wait in patience.--NEVILLE.</em></span> Written in pencil upon the fly-leaf
-of a book, octavo size, no water-mark. Hum! Posted to-day in
-Gravesend by a man with a dirty thumb. Ha! And the flap has been
-gummed, if I am not very much in error, by a person who had been
-chewing tobacco. And you have no doubt that it is your husband’s
-hand, madam?"</p>
-<p>"None. Neville wrote those words."</p>
-<p>"And they were posted to-day at Gravesend. Well, Mrs. St. Clair,
-the clouds lighten, though I should not venture to say that the
-danger is over."</p>
-<p>"But he must be alive, Mr. Holmes."</p>
-<p>"Unless this is a clever forgery to put us on the wrong scent.
-The ring, after all, proves nothing. It may have been taken from
-him."</p>
-<p>"No, no; it is, it is his very own writing!"</p>
-<p>"Very well. It may, however, have been written on Monday and only
-posted to-day."</p>
-<p>"That is possible."</p>
-<p>"If so, much may have happened between."</p>
-<p>"Oh, you must not discourage me, Mr. Holmes. I know that all is
-well with him. There is so keen a sympathy between us that I
-should know if evil came upon him. On the very day that I saw him
-last he cut himself in the bedroom, and yet I in the dining-room
-rushed upstairs instantly with the utmost certainty that
-something had happened. Do you think that I would respond to such
-a trifle and yet be ignorant of his death?"</p>
-<p>"I have seen too much not to know that the impression of a woman
-may be more valuable than the conclusion of an analytical
-reasoner. And in this letter you certainly have a very strong
-piece of evidence to corroborate your view. But if your husband
-is alive and able to write letters, why should he remain away
-from you?"</p>
-<p>"I cannot imagine. It is unthinkable."</p>
-<p>"And on Monday he made no remarks before leaving you?"</p>
-<p>"No."</p>
-<p>"And you were surprised to see him in Swandam Lane?"</p>
-<p>"Very much so."</p>
-<p>"Was the window open?"</p>
-<p>"Yes."</p>
-<p>"Then he might have called to you?"</p>
-<p>"He might."</p>
-<p>"He only, as I understand, gave an inarticulate cry?"</p>
-<p>"Yes."</p>
-<p>"A call for help, you thought?"</p>
-<p>"Yes. He waved his hands."</p>
-<p>"But it might have been a cry of surprise. Astonishment at the
-unexpected sight of you might cause him to throw up his hands?"</p>
-<p>"It is possible."</p>
-<p>"And you thought he was pulled back?"</p>
-<p>"He disappeared so suddenly."</p>
-<p>"He might have leaped back. You did not see anyone else in the
-room?"</p>
-<p>"No, but this horrible man confessed to having been there, and
-the Lascar was at the foot of the stairs."</p>
-<p>"Quite so. Your husband, as far as you could see, had his
-ordinary clothes on?"</p>
-<p>"But without his collar or tie. I distinctly saw his bare
-throat."</p>
-<p>"Had he ever spoken of Swandam Lane?"</p>
-<p>"Never."</p>
-<p>"Had he ever showed any signs of having taken opium?"</p>
-<p>"Never."</p>
-<p>"Thank you, Mrs. St. Clair. Those are the principal points about
-which I wished to be absolutely clear. We shall now have a little
-supper and then retire, for we may have a very busy day
-to-morrow."</p>
-<p>A large and comfortable double-bedded room had been placed at our
-disposal, and I was quickly between the sheets, for I was weary
-after my night of adventure. Sherlock Holmes was a man, however,
-who, when he had an unsolved problem upon his mind, would go for
-days, and even for a week, without rest, turning it over,
-rearranging his facts, looking at it from every point of view
-until he had either fathomed it or convinced himself that his
-data were insufficient. It was soon evident to me that he was now
-preparing for an all-night sitting. He took off his coat and
-waistcoat, put on a large blue dressing-gown, and then wandered
-about the room collecting pillows from his bed and cushions from
-the sofa and armchairs. With these he constructed a sort of
-Eastern divan, upon which he perched himself cross-legged, with
-an ounce of shag tobacco and a box of matches laid out in front
-of him. In the dim light of the lamp I saw him sitting there, an
-old briar pipe between his lips, his eyes fixed vacantly upon the
-corner of the ceiling, the blue smoke curling up from him,
-silent, motionless, with the light shining upon his strong-set
-aquiline features. So he sat as I dropped off to sleep, and so he
-sat when a sudden ejaculation caused me to wake up, and I found
-the summer sun shining into the apartment. The pipe was still
-between his lips, the smoke still curled upward, and the room was
-full of a dense tobacco haze, but nothing remained of the heap of
-shag which I had seen upon the previous night.</p>
-<p>"Awake, Watson?" he asked.</p>
-<p>"Yes."</p>
-<p>"Game for a morning drive?"</p>
-<p>"Certainly."</p>
-<p>"Then dress. No one is stirring yet, but I know where the
-stable-boy sleeps, and we shall soon have the trap out." He
-chuckled to himself as he spoke, his eyes twinkled, and he seemed
-a different man to the sombre thinker of the previous night.</p>
-<p>As I dressed I glanced at my watch. It was no wonder that no one
-was stirring. It was twenty-five minutes past four. I had hardly
-finished when Holmes returned with the news that the boy was
-putting in the horse.</p>
-<p>"I want to test a little theory of mine," said he, pulling on his
-boots. "I think, Watson, that you are now standing in the
-presence of one of the most absolute fools in Europe. I deserve
-to be kicked from here to Charing Cross. But I think I have the
-key of the affair now."</p>
-<p>"And where is it?" I asked, smiling.</p>
-<p>"In the bathroom," he answered. "Oh, yes, I am not joking," he
-continued, seeing my look of incredulity. "I have just been
-there, and I have taken it out, and I have got it in this
-Gladstone bag. Come on, my boy, and we shall see whether it will
-not fit the lock."</p>
-<p>We made our way downstairs as quietly as possible, and out into
-the bright morning sunshine. In the road stood our horse and
-trap, with the half-clad stable-boy waiting at the head. We both
-sprang in, and away we dashed down the London Road. A few country
-carts were stirring, bearing in vegetables to the metropolis, but
-the lines of villas on either side were as silent and lifeless as
-some city in a dream.</p>
-<p>"It has been in some points a singular case," said Holmes,
-flicking the horse on into a gallop. "I confess that I have been
-as blind as a mole, but it is better to learn wisdom late than
-never to learn it at all."</p>
-<p>In town the earliest risers were just beginning to look sleepily
-from their windows as we drove through the streets of the Surrey
-side. Passing down the Waterloo Bridge Road we crossed over the
-river, and dashing up Wellington Street wheeled sharply to the
-right and found ourselves in Bow Street. Sherlock Holmes was well
-known to the force, and the two constables at the door saluted
-him. One of them held the horse’s head while the other led us in.</p>
-<p>"Who is on duty?" asked Holmes.</p>
-<p>"Inspector Bradstreet, sir."</p>
-<p>"Ah, Bradstreet, how are you?" A tall, stout official had come
-down the stone-flagged passage, in a peaked cap and frogged
-jacket. "I wish to have a quiet word with you, Bradstreet."
-"Certainly, Mr. Holmes. Step into my room here." It was a small,
-office-like room, with a huge ledger upon the table, and a
-telephone projecting from the wall. The inspector sat down at his
-desk.</p>
-<p>"What can I do for you, Mr. Holmes?"</p>
-<p>"I called about that beggarman, Boone—the one who was charged
-with being concerned in the disappearance of Mr. Neville St.
-Clair, of Lee."</p>
-<p>"Yes. He was brought up and remanded for further inquiries."</p>
-<p>"So I heard. You have him here?"</p>
-<p>"In the cells."</p>
-<p>"Is he quiet?"</p>
-<p>"Oh, he gives no trouble. But he is a dirty scoundrel."</p>
-<p>"Dirty?"</p>
-<p>"Yes, it is all we can do to make him wash his hands, and his
-face is as black as a tinker’s. Well, when once his case has been
-settled, he will have a regular prison bath; and I think, if you
-saw him, you would agree with me that he needed it."</p>
-<p>"I should like to see him very much."</p>
-<p>"Would you? That is easily done. Come this way. You can leave
-your bag."</p>
-<p>"No, I think that I’ll take it."</p>
-<p>"Very good. Come this way, if you please." He led us down a
-passage, opened a barred door, passed down a winding stair, and
-brought us to a whitewashed corridor with a line of doors on each
-side.</p>
-<p>"The third on the right is his," said the inspector. "Here it
-is!" He quietly shot back a panel in the upper part of the door
-and glanced through.</p>
-<p>"He is asleep," said he. "You can see him very well."</p>
-<p>We both put our eyes to the grating. The prisoner lay with his
-face towards us, in a very deep sleep, breathing slowly and
-heavily. He was a middle-sized man, coarsely clad as became his
-calling, with a coloured shirt protruding through the rent in his
-tattered coat. He was, as the inspector had said, extremely
-dirty, but the grime which covered his face could not conceal its
-repulsive ugliness. A broad wheal from an old scar ran right
-across it from eye to chin, and by its contraction had turned up
-one side of the upper lip, so that three teeth were exposed in a
-perpetual snarl. A shock of very bright red hair grew low over
-his eyes and forehead.</p>
-<p>"He’s a beauty, isn’t he?" said the inspector.</p>
-<p>"He certainly needs a wash," remarked Holmes. "I had an idea that
-he might, and I took the liberty of bringing the tools with me."
-He opened the Gladstone bag as he spoke, and took out, to my
-astonishment, a very large bath-sponge.</p>
-<p>"He! he! You are a funny one," chuckled the inspector.</p>
-<p>"Now, if you will have the great goodness to open that door very
-quietly, we will soon make him cut a much more respectable
-figure."</p>
-<p>"Well, I don’t know why not," said the inspector. "He doesn’t
-look a credit to the Bow Street cells, does he?" He slipped his
-key into the lock, and we all very quietly entered the cell. The
-sleeper half turned, and then settled down once more into a deep
-slumber. Holmes stooped to the water-jug, moistened his sponge,
-and then rubbed it twice vigorously across and down the
-prisoner’s face.</p>
-<p>"Let me introduce you," he shouted, "to Mr. Neville St. Clair, of
-Lee, in the county of Kent."</p>
-<p>Never in my life have I seen such a sight. The man’s face peeled
-off under the sponge like the bark from a tree. Gone was the
-coarse brown tint! Gone, too, was the horrid scar which had
-seamed it across, and the twisted lip which had given the
-repulsive sneer to the face! A twitch brought away the tangled
-red hair, and there, sitting up in his bed, was a pale,
-sad-faced, refined-looking man, black-haired and smooth-skinned,
-rubbing his eyes and staring about him with sleepy bewilderment.
-Then suddenly realising the exposure, he broke into a scream and
-threw himself down with his face to the pillow.</p>
-<p>"Great heavens!" cried the inspector, "it is, indeed, the missing
-man. I know him from the photograph."</p>
-<p>The prisoner turned with the reckless air of a man who abandons
-himself to his destiny. "Be it so," said he. "And pray what am I
-charged with?"</p>
-<p>"With making away with Mr. Neville St.-- Oh, come, you can’t be
-charged with that unless they make a case of attempted suicide of
-it," said the inspector with a grin. "Well, I have been
-twenty-seven years in the force, but this really takes the cake."</p>
-<p>"If I am Mr. Neville St. Clair, then it is obvious that no crime
-has been committed, and that, therefore, I am illegally
-detained."</p>
-<p>"No crime, but a very great error has been committed," said
-Holmes. "You would have done better to have trusted your wife."</p>
-<p>"It was not the wife; it was the children," groaned the prisoner.
-"God help me, I would not have them ashamed of their father. My
-God! What an exposure! What can I do?"</p>
-<p>Sherlock Holmes sat down beside him on the couch and patted him
-kindly on the shoulder.</p>
-<p>"If you leave it to a court of law to clear the matter up," said
-he, "of course you can hardly avoid publicity. On the other hand,
-if you convince the police authorities that there is no possible
-case against you, I do not know that there is any reason that the
-details should find their way into the papers. Inspector
-Bradstreet would, I am sure, make notes upon anything which you
-might tell us and submit it to the proper authorities. The case
-would then never go into court at all."</p>
-<p>"God bless you!" cried the prisoner passionately. "I would have
-endured imprisonment, ay, even execution, rather than have left
-my miserable secret as a family blot to my children.</p>
-<p>"You are the first who have ever heard my story. My father was a
-schoolmaster in Chesterfield, where I received an excellent
-education. I travelled in my youth, took to the stage, and
-finally became a reporter on an evening paper in London. One day
-my editor wished to have a series of articles upon begging in the
-metropolis, and I volunteered to supply them. There was the point
-from which all my adventures started. It was only by trying
-begging as an amateur that I could get the facts upon which to
-base my articles. When an actor I had, of course, learned all the
-secrets of making up, and had been famous in the green-room for
-my skill. I took advantage now of my attainments. I painted my
-face, and to make myself as pitiable as possible I made a good
-scar and fixed one side of my lip in a twist by the aid of a
-small slip of flesh-coloured plaster. Then with a red head of
-hair, and an appropriate dress, I took my station in the business
-part of the city, ostensibly as a match-seller but really as a
-beggar. For seven hours I plied my trade, and when I returned
-home in the evening I found to my surprise that I had received no
-less than 26s. 4d.</p>
-<p>"I wrote my articles and thought little more of the matter until,
-some time later, I backed a bill for a friend and had a writ
-served upon me for 25 pounds. I was at my wit’s end where to get
-the money, but a sudden idea came to me. I begged a fortnight’s
-grace from the creditor, asked for a holiday from my employers,
-and spent the time in begging in the City under my disguise. In
-ten days I had the money and had paid the debt.</p>
-<p>"Well, you can imagine how hard it was to settle down to arduous
-work at 2 pounds a week when I knew that I could earn as much in
-a day by smearing my face with a little paint, laying my cap on
-the ground, and sitting still. It was a long fight between my
-pride and the money, but the dollars won at last, and I threw up
-reporting and sat day after day in the corner which I had first
-chosen, inspiring pity by my ghastly face and filling my pockets
-with coppers. Only one man knew my secret. He was the keeper of a
-low den in which I used to lodge in Swandam Lane, where I could
-every morning emerge as a squalid beggar and in the evenings
-transform myself into a well-dressed man about town. This fellow,
-a Lascar, was well paid by me for his rooms, so that I knew that
-my secret was safe in his possession.</p>
-<p>"Well, very soon I found that I was saving considerable sums of
-money. I do not mean that any beggar in the streets of London
-could earn 700 pounds a year—which is less than my average
-takings—but I had exceptional advantages in my power of making
-up, and also in a facility of repartee, which improved by
-practice and made me quite a recognised character in the City.
-All day a stream of pennies, varied by silver, poured in upon me,
-and it was a very bad day in which I failed to take 2 pounds.</p>
-<p>"As I grew richer I grew more ambitious, took a house in the
-country, and eventually married, without anyone having a
-suspicion as to my real occupation. My dear wife knew that I had
-business in the City. She little knew what.</p>
-<p>"Last Monday I had finished for the day and was dressing in my
-room above the opium den when I looked out of my window and saw,
-to my horror and astonishment, that my wife was standing in the
-street, with her eyes fixed full upon me. I gave a cry of
-surprise, threw up my arms to cover my face, and, rushing to my
-confidant, the Lascar, entreated him to prevent anyone from
-coming up to me. I heard her voice downstairs, but I knew that
-she could not ascend. Swiftly I threw off my clothes, pulled on
-those of a beggar, and put on my pigments and wig. Even a wife’s
-eyes could not pierce so complete a disguise. But then it
-occurred to me that there might be a search in the room, and that
-the clothes might betray me. I threw open the window, reopening
-by my violence a small cut which I had inflicted upon myself in
-the bedroom that morning. Then I seized my coat, which was
-weighted by the coppers which I had just transferred to it from
-the leather bag in which I carried my takings. I hurled it out of
-the window, and it disappeared into the Thames. The other clothes
-would have followed, but at that moment there was a rush of
-constables up the stair, and a few minutes after I found, rather,
-I confess, to my relief, that instead of being identified as Mr.
-Neville St. Clair, I was arrested as his murderer.</p>
-<p>"I do not know that there is anything else for me to explain. I
-was determined to preserve my disguise as long as possible, and
-hence my preference for a dirty face. Knowing that my wife would
-be terribly anxious, I slipped off my ring and confided it to the
-Lascar at a moment when no constable was watching me, together
-with a hurried scrawl, telling her that she had no cause to
-fear."</p>
-<p>"That note only reached her yesterday," said Holmes.</p>
-<p>"Good God! What a week she must have spent!"</p>
-<p>"The police have watched this Lascar," said Inspector Bradstreet,
-"and I can quite understand that he might find it difficult to
-post a letter unobserved. Probably he handed it to some sailor
-customer of his, who forgot all about it for some days."</p>
-<p>"That was it," said Holmes, nodding approvingly; "I have no doubt
-of it. But have you never been prosecuted for begging?"</p>
-<p>"Many times; but what was a fine to me?"</p>
-<p>"It must stop here, however," said Bradstreet. "If the police are
-to hush this thing up, there must be no more of Hugh Boone."</p>
-<p>"I have sworn it by the most solemn oaths which a man can take."</p>
-<p>"In that case I think that it is probable that no further steps
-may be taken. But if you are found again, then all must come out.
-I am sure, Mr. Holmes, that we are very much indebted to you for
-having cleared the matter up. I wish I knew how you reach your
-results."</p>
-<p>"I reached this one," said my friend, "by sitting upon five
-pillows and consuming an ounce of shag. I think, Watson, that if
-we drive to Baker Street we shall just be in time for breakfast."</p>
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