"To the man who loves art for its own sake,"
remarked Sher- lock Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily Telegraph,
"it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest
pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far
grasped this truth that in these little records of our cases which you have been good
enough to draw up, and, I am bound to say, occasion- ally to embellish, you have given
prominence not so much to the many causes celebres and sensational trials in which I have
figured but rather to those incidents which may have been trivial in themselves, but which
have given room for those faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis which I have
made my special province."
"And yet," said I, smiling, "I cannot quite hold myself absolved from the
charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my records."
"You have erred, perhaps," he observed, taking up a glowing cinder with the
tongs and lighting with it the long cherry-wood pipe which was wont to replace his clay
when he was in a disputatious rather than a meditative mood --" you have erred
perhaps in attempting to put colour and life into each of your statements instead of
confining yourself to the task of placing upon record that severe reasoning from cause to
effect which is really the only notable feature about the thing."
"It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter," I remarked
with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism which I had more than once observed
to be a strong factor in my friend's singular character.
"No, it is not selfishness or conceit," said he, answering, as was his wont, my
thoughts rather than my words. "If I claim full justice for my art, it is because it
is an impersonal thing -- a thing beyond myself. Crime is common. Logic is rare. Therefore
it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell. You have degraded
what should have been a course of lectures into a series of tales."
It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after breakfast on either side of a
cheery fire in the old room at Baker Street. A thick fog rolled down between the lines of
dun-coloured houses, and the opposing windows loomed like dark, shapeless blurs through
the heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit and shone on the white cloth and glimmer of
china and metal, for the table had not been cleared yet. Sherlock Holmes had been silent
all the morning, dipping continuously into the advertisement columns of a succession of
papers until at last, having apparently given up his search, he had emerged in no very
sweet temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings.
"At the same time," he remarked after a pause, during which he had sat puffing
at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, "you can hardly be open to a charge
of sensationalism, for out of these cases which you have been so kind as to interest
yourself in, a fair proportion do not treat of crime, in its legal sense, at all. The
small matter in which I endeavoured to help the King of Bohemia, the singular experience
of Miss Mary Sutherland, the problem connected with the man with the twisted lip, and the
incident of the noble bachelor, were all matters which are outside the pale of the law.
But in avoiding the sensational, I fear that you may have bordered on the trivial."
"The end may have been so," I answered, "but the methods I hold to have
been novel and of interest."
"Pshaw, my dear fellow, what do the public, the great unob- servant public, who could
hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a compositor by his left thumb, care about the finer
shades of analysis and deduction! But, indeed, if you are trivial. I cannot blame you, for
the days of the great cases are past. Man, or at least criminal man, has lost all
enterprise and originality. As to my own little practice, it seems to be degenerating into
an agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies from
boarding-schools. I think that I have touched bottom at last, however. This note I had
this morning marks my zero-point, I fancy. Read it!" He tossed a crumpled letter
across to me.
It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding eve- ning, and ran thus:
DEAR MR. HOLMES:
I am very anxious to consult you as to whether I should or should not accept a situation
which has been offered to me as governess. I shall call at half-past ten to-morrow if I do
not inconvenience you.
Yours faithfully, VIOLET HUNTER.
"Do you know the young lady?' I asked.
"Not I."
"It is half-past ten now."
"Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring."
"It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You remember that the affair
of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to be a mere whim at first, developed into a serious
investiga- tion. It may be so in this case, also."
"Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved, for here, unless I am
much mistaken, is the person in question."
As he spoke the door opened and a young lady entered the room. She was plainly but neatly
dressed, with a bright. quick face, freckled like a plover's egg, and with the brisk
manner of a woman who has had her own way to make in the world.
"You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure," said she, as my companion rose to
greet her, "but I have had a very strange experience, and as I have no parents or
relations of any sort from whom I could ask advice, I thought that perhaps you would be
kind enough to tell me what I should do."
"Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything that I can to serve
you."
I could see that Holmes was favourably impressed by the manner and speech of his new
client. He looked her over in his searching fashion, and then composed himself, with his
lids drooping and his finger-tips together, to listen to her story.
"I have been a governess for five years," said she, "in the family of
Colonel Spence Munro, but two months ago the colo- nel received an appointment at Halifax,
in Nova Scotia, and took his children over to America with him, so that I found myself
without a situation. I advertised, and I answered advertisements, but without success. At
last the little money which I had saved began to run short, and I was at my wit's end as
to what I should do.
"There is a well-known agency for governesses in the West End called Westaway's, and
there I used to call about once a week in order to see whether anything had turned up
which might suit me. Westaway was the name of the founder of the business, but it is
really managed by Miss Stoper. She sits in her own little office, and the ladies who are
seeking employment wait in an anteroom, and are then shown in one by one, when she
consults her ledgers and sees whether she has anything which would suit them.
"Well, when I called last week I was shown into the little office as usual, but I
found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A prodigiously stout man with a very smiling face
and a great heavy chin which rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat sat at her
elbow with a pair of glasses on his nose, looking very earnestly at the ladies who
entered. As I came in he gave quite a jump in his chair and turned quickly to Miss Stoper.
" 'That will do,' said he; 'I could not ask for anything better. Capital! capital!'
He seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his hands together in the most genial fashion. He
was such a comfortable-looking man that it was quite a pleasure to look at him.
" 'You are looking for a situation, miss?' he asked.
" 'Yes, sir.'
" 'As governess?'
" 'Yes, sir.'
" 'And what salary do you ask?'
" 'I had 4 pounds a month in my last place with Colonel Spence Munro.'
" 'Oh, tut, tut! sweating -- rank sweating!' he cried, throwing his fat hands out
into the air like a man who is in a boiling passion. 'How could anyone offer so pitiful a
sum to a lady with such attractions and accomplishments?'
" 'My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine,' said I. 'A little French,
a little German, music, and drawing --'
" 'Tut, tut!' he cried. 'This is all quite beside the question. The point is, have
you or have you not the bearing and deport- ment of a lady? There it is in a nutshell. If
you have not, you are not fined for the rearing of a child who may some day play a
considerable part in the history of the country. But if you have why, then, how could any
gentleman ask you to condescend to accept anything under the three figures? Your salary
with me, madam, would commence at 100 pounds a year.'
"You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, such an offer seemed
almost too good to be true. The gentleman, however, seeing perhaps the look of incredulity
upon my face, opened a pocket-book and took out a note.
" 'It is also my custom,' said he, smiling in the most pleasant fashion until his
eyes were just two little shining slits amid the white creases of his face, 'to advance to
my young ladies half their salary beforehand, so that they may meet any little expenses of
their journey and their wardrobe.'
"It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so thoughtful a man. As I
was already in debt to my tradesmen, the advance was a great convenience, and yet there
was something unnatural about the whole transaction which made me wish to know a little
more before I quite committed myself.
" 'May I ask where you live, sir?' said I.
" 'Hampshire. Charming rural place. The Copper Beeches, five miles on the far side of
Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my dear young lady, and the dearest old
country-house.'
" 'And my duties, sir? I should be glad to know what they would be.'
" 'One child -- one dear little romper just six years old. Oh, if you could see him
killing cockroaches with a slipper! Smack! smack! smack! Three gone before you could
wink!' He leaned back in his chair and laughed his eyes into his head again.
"I was a little startled at the nature of the child's amusement, but the father's
laughter made me think that perhaps he was joking.
" 'My sole duties, then,' I asked, 'are to take charge of a single child?'
" 'No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear young lady,' he cried. 'Your duty
would be, as I am sure your good sense would suggest, to obey any little commands my wife
might give, provided always that they were such commands as a lady might with propriety
obey. You see no difficulty, heh?'
" 'I should be happy to make myself useful.'
" 'Quite so. In dress now, for example. We are faddy people, you know -- faddy but
kind-hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress which we might give you, you would not
object to our little whim. Heh?'
" 'No,' said I, considerably astonished at his words.
" 'Or to sit here, or sit there, that would not be offensive to you?'
" 'Oh, no.'
" 'Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us?'
"I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, Mr. Holmes, my hair is somewhat
luxuriant, and of a rather peculiar tint of chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I
could not dream of sacrificing it in this offhand fashion.
" 'I am afraid that that is quite impossible,' said I. He had been watching me
eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a shadow pass over his face as I spoke.
" 'I am afraid that it is quite essential,' said he. 'It is a little fancy of my
wife's, and ladies' fancies, you know, madam, ladies' fancies must be consulted. And so
you wonn't cut your hair?'
" 'No, sir, I really could not,' I answered firmly.
" 'Ah, very well; then that quite settles the matter. It is a pity, because in other
respects you would really have done very nicely. In that case, Miss Stoper, I had best
inspect a few more of your young ladies.'
"The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers without a word to either
of us, but she glanced at me now with so much annoyance upon her face that I could not
help suspect- ing that she had lost a handsome commission through my refusal.
" 'Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books?' she asked.
" 'If you please, Miss Stoper.'
" 'Well, really, it seems rather useless, since you refuse the most excellent offers
in this fashion,' said she sharply. 'You can hardly expect us to exert ourselves to find
another such opening for you. Good-day to you, Miss Hunter.' She struck a gong upon the
table, and I was shown out by the page.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodgings and found little enough in the
cupboard, and two or three bills upon the table. I began to ask myself whether I had not
done a very foolish thing. After all, if these people had strange fads and expected
obedience on the most extraordinary matters, they were at least ready to pay for their
eccentricity. Very few governesses in England are getting 100 pounds a year. Besides, what
use was my hair to me? Many people are improved by wearing it short and perhaps I should
be among the number. Next day I was inciined to think that I had made a mistake, and by
the day after I was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to go back to the
agency and inquire whether the place was still open when I received this letter from the
gentleman himself. I have it here and I will read it to you:
"The Copper Beeches, near Winchester.
"DEAR Mlss HUNTER:
"Miss Stoper has very kindly given me your address, and I write from here to ask you
whether you have reconsidered your decision. My wife is very anxious that you should come,
for she has been much attracted by my description of you. We are willing to give 30 pounds
a quarter, or 120 pounds a year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience
which our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. My wife is fond of a
particular shade of electric blue and would like you to wear such a dress indoors in the
morning. You need not, however, go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have one
belonging to my dear daughter Alice (now in Philadelphia), which would, I should think,
fit you very well. Then, as to sitting here or there, or amusing yourself in any manner
indicated, that need cause you no inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no doubt a
pity, especially as I could not help remarking its beauty during our short interview, but
I am afraid that I must remain firm upon this point, and l only hope that the increased
salary may recompense you for the loss. Your duties, as far as the child is concerned, are
very light. Now do try to come, and I shall meet you with the dog-cart at Winchester. Let
me know your train.
"Yours faithfully, "JEPHRO RUCASTLE.
"That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and my mind is made up
that I will accept it. I thought, how- ever, that before taking the final step I should
like to submit the whole matter to your consideration."
"Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the question," said
Holmes, smiling.
"But you would not advise me to refuse?"
"I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to see a sister of mine
apply for."
"What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes?"
"Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself formed some
opinion?"
"Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr. Rucastle seemed to be
a very kind, good-natured man. Is it not possible that his wife is a lunatic, that he
desires to keep the matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that he
humours her fancies in every way in order to prevent an outbreak?"
"That is a possible solution -- in fact, as matters stand, it is the most probable
one. But in any case it does not seem to be a nice household for a young lady."
"But the money, Mr. Holmes the money!"
"Well, yes, of course the pay is good -- too good. That is what makes me uneasy. Why
should they give you 120 pounds a year, when they could have their pick for 40 pounds?
There must be some strong reason behind."
"I thought that if I told you the circumstances you would understand afterwards if I
wanted your help. I should feel so much stronger if I felt that you were at the back of
me."
"Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that your little problem
promises to be the most interesting which has come my way for some months. There is
something dis- tinctly novel about some of the features. If you should find yourself in
doubt or in danger --"
"Danger! What danger do you foresee?"
Holmes shook his head gravely. "It would cease to be a danger if we could define
it," said he. "But at any time, day or night, a telegram would bring me down to
your help."
"That is enough." She rose briskly from her chair with the anxiety all swept
from her face. "I shall go down to Hampshire quite easy in my mind now. I shall write
to Mr. Rucastle at once, sacrifice my poor hair to-night, and start for Winchester
to-morrow." With a few grateful words to Holmes she bade us both good-night and
bustled off upon her way.
"At least," said I as we heard her quick, firm steps descend- ing the stairs,
"she seems to be a young lady who is very well able to take care of herself."
"And she would need to be," said Holmes gravely. "I am much mistaken if we
do not hear from her before many days are past."
It was not very long before my friend's prediction was ful- filled. A fortnight went by,
during which I frequently found my thoughts turning in her direction and wondering what
strange side-alley of human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual
salary, the curious conditions, the light duties, all pointed to something abnormal,
though whether a fad or a plot, or whether the man were a philanthropist or a villain, it
was quite beyond my powers to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat frequently
for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he swept the matter
away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it. "Data! data! data!" he cried
impatiently. "I can't make bricks without clay." And yet he would always wind up
by muttering that no sister of his should ever have accepted such a situation.
The telegram which we eventually received came late one night just as I was thinking of
turning in and Holmes was settling down to one of those all-night chemical researches
which he frequently indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a
test-tube at night and find him in the same position when I came down to breakfast in the
morning. He opened the yellow envelope, and then, glancing at the message, threw it across
to me.
"Just look up the trains in Bradshaw," said he, and turned back to his chemical
studies.
The summons was a brief and urgent one.
Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday to-morrow [it said]. Do come! I
am at my wit's end.
HUNTER .
"Will you come with me?" asked Holmes, glancing up.
"I should wish to."
"Just look it up, then."
"There is a train at half-past nine," said I, glancing over my Bradshaw.
"It is due at Winchester at 11:30."
"That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the
acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the morning."
By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old English capital.
Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the way down, but after we had passed the
Hampshire border he threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal
spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from
west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in
the air, which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the
rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and gray roofs of the farm-steadings peeped
out from amid the light green of the new foliage.
"Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried with all the enthusiasm of a man
fresh from the fogs of Baker Street.
But Holmes shook his head gravely.
"Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of a mind
with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with reference to my own special
subject. You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look
at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the
impunity with which crime may be committed there."
"Good heavens!" I cried. "Who would associate crime with these dear old
homesteads?"
"They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my
experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful
record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside."
"You horrify me!"
"But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can do in the town
what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so vile that the scream of a tortured
child, or the thud of a drunkard's blow, does not beget sympathy and indigna- tion among
the neighbours, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of
complaint can set it going, and there is but a step between the crime and the dock. But
look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part with poor
ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the
hidden wickedness which may go on, year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser.
Had this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I should never have
had a fear for her. It is the five miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it is
clear that she is not personally threatened."
"No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away."
"Quite so. She has her freedom."
"What can be the matter, then? Can you suggest no expla- nation?"
"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover the facts as
far as we know them. But which of these is correct can only be determined by the fresh
information which we shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of the
cathedral, and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell."
The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no distance from the station,
and there we found the young lady waiting for us. She had engaged a sitting-room, and our
lunch awaited us upon the table.
"I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. "It is so very
kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I should do. Your advice will be
altogether invaluable to me."
"Pray tell us what has happened to you."
"I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. Rucastle to be back
before three. I got his leave to come into town this morning, though he little knew for
what purpose."
"Let us have everything in its due order." Holmes thrust his long thin legs out
towards the fire and composed himself to listen.
"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no actual
ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is only fair to them to say that. But I
cannot understand them, and I am not easy in my mind about them."
"What can you not understand?"
"Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just as it occurred. When
I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and drove me in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches.
It is, as he said, beautifully situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a
large square block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp and bad
weather. There are grounds round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourth a field which
slopes down to the Southampton highroad, which curves past about a hundred yards from the
front door. This ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all round are part of
Lord Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper beeches immediately in front of the hall
door has given its name to the place.
"I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and was introduced by
him that evening to his wife and the child. There was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the
conjecture which seemed to us to be probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle
is not mad. I found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much younger than her husband,
not more than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be less than forty-five. From
their conversation I have gathered that they have been married about seven years, that he
was a widower, and that his only child by the first wife was the daughter who has gone to
Philadelphia. Mr. Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them was
that she had an unreasoning aversion to her step- mother. As the daughter could not have
been less than twenty, I can quite imagine-that her position must have been uncomfort-
able with her father's young wife.
"Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as in feature. She
impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. She was a nonentity. It was easy to see
that she was passionately devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light
gray eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every little want and
forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her also in his bluff, boisterous fashion, and
on the whole they seemed to be a happy couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow, this
woman. She would often be lost in deep thought, with the saddest look upon her face. More
than once I have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the
disposition of her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so utterly
spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is small for his age, with a head which
is quite dispro- portionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation
between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving pain to any
creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he shows quite
remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice, little birds, and insects. But I would
rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed, he has little to do with my
story."
"I am glad of all details," remarked my friend, "whether they seem to you
to be relevant or not."
"I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one unpleasant thing about the
house, which struck me at once, was the appearance and conduct of the servants. There are
only two, a man and his wife. Toller, for that is his name, is a rough, uncouth man, with
grizzled hair and whiskers, and a perpetual smell of drink. Twice since I have been with
them he has been quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it. His
wife is a very tall and strong woman with a sour face, as silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much
less amiable. They are a most unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time
in the nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in one corner of the
building.
"For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was very quiet; on the
third, Mrs. Rucastle came down just after breakfast and whispered something to her
husband.
" 'Oh, yes,' said he, turning to me, 'we are very much obliged to you, Miss Hunter,
for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your hair. I assure you that it has not
detracted in the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue
dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and if you
would be so good as to put it on we should both be extremely obliged.'
"The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade of blue. It was of
excellent material, a sort of beige, but it bore unmistakable signs of having been worn
before. It could not have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. and
Mrs. Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it, which seemed quite exaggerated in its
vehemence. They were waiting for me in the drawing-room, which is a very large room,
stretching along the entire front of the house, with three long windows reaching down to
the floor. A chair had been placed close to the central window, with its back turned
towards it. In this I was asked to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and down on the
other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest stories that I have ever
listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary.
Mrs. Rucastle, however, who has evidently no sense of humour, never so much as smiled, but
sat with her hands in her lap, and a sad, anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so,
Mr. Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the day, and
that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in the nursery.
"Two days later this same performance was gone through under exactly similar
circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I sat in the window, and again I laughed
very heartily at the funny stories of which my employer had an immense reper- toire, and
which he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow- backed novel, and moving my chair a
little sideways, that my own shadow might not fall upon the page. he begged me to read
aloud to him. I read for about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then
suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease and to change my dress.
"You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to what the meaning of
this extraordinary performance could possibly be. They were always very careful, I
observed, to turn my face away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire
to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I soon
devised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I
concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst of
my laughter, I put my handkerchief up to my eyes, and was able with a little management to
see all that there was behind me. I confess that I was disappointed. There was nothing. At
least that was my first impression. At the second glance, however, I perceived that there
was a man standing in the Southampton Road, a small bearded man in a gray suit, who seemed
to be looking in my direction. The road is an important highway, and there are usually
people there. This man, however, was leaning against the railings which bordered our field
and was looking earnestly up. I lowered my handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rucastle to
find her eyes fixed upon me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing, but I am
convinced that she had divined that I had a mirror in my hand and had seen what was behind
me. She rose at once.
" 'Jephro,' said she, 'there is an impertinent fellow upon the road there who stares
up at Miss Hunter.'
" 'No friend of yours, Miss Hunter?' he asked.
" 'No, I know no one in these parts.'
" 'Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn round and motion to him to go away.'
" 'Surely it would be better to take no notice.'
" 'No, no, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn round and wave him
away like that.'
"I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drew down the blind. That
was a week ago, and from that time I have not sat again in the window, nor have I worn the
blue dress, nor seen the man in the road."
"Pray continue," said Holmes. "Your narrative promises to be a most
interesting one."
"You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may prove to be little
relation between the different incidents of which I speak. On the very first day that I
was at the Copper Beeches, Mr. Rucastle took me to a small outhouse which stands near the
kitchen door. As we approached it I heard the sharp rattling of a chain, and the sound as
of a large animal moving about.
" 'Look in here!' said Mr. Rucastle, showing me a slit be- tween two planks. 'Is he
not a beauty?'
"I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes, and of a vague figure
huddled up in the darkness.
" 'Don't be frightened,' said my employer, laughing at the start which I had given.
'It's only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, but really old Toller, my groom, is the
only man who can do anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, so
that he is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God help the
trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness' sake don't you ever on any pretext
set your foot over the threshold at night, for it's as much as your life is worth.'
"The warning was no idle one, for two nights later I happened to look out of my
bedroom window about two o'clock in the morning. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and
the lawn in front of the house was silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was
standing, rapt in the peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was aware that something was
moving under the shadow of the copper beeches. As it emerged into the moonshine I saw what
it was. It was a giant dog, as large as a calf, tawny tinted, with hanging jowl, black
muzzle, and huge projecting bones. It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished into the
shadow upon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart which I do not
think that any burglar could have done.
"And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as you know, cut off my
hair in London, and I had placed it in a great coil at the bottom of my trunk. One
evening, after the child was in bed, I began to amuse myself by examining the furniture of
my room and by rearranging my own little things. There was an old chest of drawers in the
room, the two upper ones empty and open, the lower one locked. I had filled the first two
with my linen. and as I had still much to pack away I was naturally annoyed at not having
the use of the third drawer. It struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere
oversight, so I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The very first key fitted
to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was only one thing in it, but I am sure
that you would never guess what it was. It was my coil of hair.
"I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint, and the same
thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing obtruded itself upon me. How could my
hair have been locked in the drawer? With trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the
contents, and drew from the bonom my own hair. I laid the two tresses together, and I
assure you that they were identical. Was it not extraordinary? Puzzle as I would, I could
make nothing at all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer, and I
said nothing of the matter to the Rucastles as I felt that I had put myself in the wrong
by opening a drawer which they had locked.
"I am naturally observant, as you may have remarked, Mr. Holmes, and I soon had a
pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. There was one wing, however, which
appeared not to be inhabited at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters
of the Tollers opened into this suite, but it was invaria- bly locked. One day, however,
as I ascended the stair, I met Mr. Rucastle coming out through this door, his keys in his
hand, and a look on his face which made him a very different person to the round, jovial
man to whom I was accustomed. His cheeks were red, his brow was all crinkled with anger,
and the veins stood out at his temples with passion. He locked the door and hurried past
me without a word or a look.
"This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the grounds with my
charge, I strolled round to the side from which I could see the windows of this part of
the house. There were four of them in a row, three of which were simply dirty, while the
fourth was shuttered up. They were evidently all deserted. As I strolled up and down,
glancing at them occasion- ally, Mr. Rucastle came out to me, looking as merry and jovial
as ever.
" 'Ah!' said he, 'you must not think me rude if I passed you without a word, my dear
young lady. I was preoccupied with business matters.'
"I assured him that I was not offended. 'By the way,' said I, 'you seem to have quite
a suite of spare rooms up there, and one of them has the shutters up.'
"He looked surprised and, as it seemed to me, a little startled at my remark.
" 'Photography is one of my hobbies,' said he. 'I have made my dark room up there.
But, dear me! what an observant young lady we have come upon. Who would have believed it?
Who would have ever believed it?' He spoke in a jesting tone, but there was no jest in his
eyes as he looked at me. I read suspicion there and annoyance, but no jest.
"Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I understood that there was something about
that suite of rooms which I was not to know, I was all on fire to go over them. It was not
mere curiosity, though I have my share of that. It was more a feeling of duty -- a feeling
that some good might come from my penetrat- ing to this place. They talk of woman's
instinct; perhaps it was woman's instinct which gave me that feeling. At any rate, it was
there, and I was keenly on the lookout for any chance to pass the forbidden door.
"It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, besides Mr.
Rucastle, both Toller and his wife find some- thing to do in these deserted rooms, and I
once saw him carrying a large black linen bag with him through the door. Recently he has
been drinking hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk; and when I came upstairs
there was the key in the door. I have no doubt at all that he had left it there. Mr. and
Mrs. Rucastle were both downstairs, and the child was with them, so that I had an
admirable opportunity. I turned the key gently in the lock, opened the door, and slipped
through.
"There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and uncarpeted, which turned at
a right angle at the farther end. Round this corner were three doors in a line, the first
and third of which were open. They each led into an empty room, dusty and cheerless, with
two windows in the one and one in the other, so thick with dirt that the evening light
glimmered dimly through them. The centre door was closed, and across the outside of it had
been fastened one of the broad bars of an iron bed, padlocked at one end to a ring in the
wall, and fastened at the other with stout cord. The door itself was locked as well, and
the key was not there. This barricaded door corresponded clearly with the shuttered window
outside, and yet I could see by the glimmer from beneath it that the room was not in
darkness. Evidently there was a skylight which let in light from above. As I stood in the
passage gazing at the sinister door and wondering what secret it might veil, I suddenly
heard the sound of steps within the room and saw a shadow pass backward and forward
against the little slit of dim light which shone out from under the door. A mad,
unreasoning terror rose up in me at the sight, Mr. Holmes. My overstrung nerves failed me
suddenly, and I turned and ran -- ran as though some dreadful hand were behind me
clutching at the skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door, and
straight into the arms of Mr. Rucastle, who was waiting outside.
" 'So,' said he, smiling, 'it was you, then. I thought that it must be when I saw the
door open.'
" 'Oh, I am so frightened!' I panted.
" 'My dear young lady! my dear young lady!' -- you cannot think how caressing and
soothing his manner was -- 'and what has frightened you, my dear young lady?'
"But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was keenly on my guard
against him.
" 'I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing,' I an- swered. 'But it is so
lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was frightened and ran out again. Oh, it is so
dreadfully still in there!'
" 'Only that?' said he, looking at me keenly.
" 'Why, what did you think?' I asked.
" 'Why do you think that I lock this door?'
" 'I am sure that I do not know.'
" 'It is to keep people out who have no business there. Do you see?' He was still
smiling in the most amiable manner.
" 'I am sure if I had known
" 'Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over that threshold again'
-- here in an instant the smile hardened into a grin of rage, and he glared down at me
with the face of a demon -- 'I'll throw you to the mastiff.'
"I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that I must have rushed
past him into my room. I remember nothing until I found myself lying on my bed trembling
all over. Then I thought of you, Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without some
advice. I was frightened of the house, of the man of the woman, of the servants, even of
the child. They were ali horrible to me. If I could only bring you down all would be well.
Of course I might have fled from the house, but my curiosity was almost as strong as my
fears. My mind was soon made up. I would send you a wire. I put on my hat and cloak, went
down to the office, which is about half a mile from the house, and then returned, feeling
very much easier. A horrible doubt came into my mind as I approached the door lest the dog
might be loose, but I remembered that Toller had drunk himself into a state of insensi-
bility that evening, and I knew that he was the only one in the household who had any
influence with the savage creature, or who would venture to set him free. I slipped in in
safety and lay awake half the night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. I had no
difficulty in getting leave to come into Winchester this morning, but I must be back
before three o'clock, for Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle are going on a visit, and will be away all
the evening, so that I must look after the child. Now I have told you all my adventures,
Mr. Holmes, and I should be very glad if you could tell me what it all means, and, above
all, what I should do."
Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. My friend rose now and
paced up and down the room, his hands in his pockets, and an expression of the most
profound gravity upon his face.
"Is Toller still drunk?" he asked.
"Yes. I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rucastle that she could do nothing with him."
"That is well. And the Rucastles go out to-night?"
"Yes."
"Is there a cellar with a good strong lock?"
"Yes, the wine-cellar."
"You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very brave and sensible
girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could perform one more feat? I should not ask it
of you if I did not think you a quite exceptional woman."
"I will try. What is it?"
"We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o'clock, my friend and I. The Rucastles
will be gone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be incapable. There only remains Mrs.
Toller, who might give the alarm. If you could send her into the cellar on some errand,
and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate matters immensely."
"I will do it."
"Excellent! We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of course there is only
one feasible explanation. You have been brought there to personate someone, and the real
person is imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious. As to who this prisoner is, I have
no doubt that it is the daughter, Miss Alice Rucastle, if I remember right, who was said
to have gone to America. You were chosen, doubtless, as resembling her in height, figure,
and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off, very possibly in some illness through
which she has passed, and so, of course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a curious
chance you came upon her tresses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some friend of hers
-- possibly her fiance -- and no doubt, as you wore the girl's dress and were so like her,
he was convinced from your laughter, whenever he saw you, and after- wards from your
gesture, that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no longer desired his
attentions. The dog is let loose at night to prevent him from endeavouring to communicate
with her. So much is fairly clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition
of the child."
"What on earth has that to do with it?" I ejaculated.
"My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining light as to the
tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don't you see that the converse is
equally valid. I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of
parents by studying their children. This child's disposition is abnormally cruel, merely
for cruelty's sake, and whether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should
suspect, or from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their power."
"I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes," cried our client. "A thousand
things come back to me which make me certain that you have hit it. Oh, let us lose not an
instant in bringing help to this poor creature."
"We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning man. We can do
nothing until seven o'clock. At that hour we shall be with you, and it will not be long
before we solve the mystery."
We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we reached the Copper Beeches,
having put up our trap at a wayside public-house. The group of trees, with their dark
leaves shining like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun, were suffi- cient to
mark the house even had Miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the door-step.
"Have you managed it?" asked Holmes.
A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. "That is Mrs. Toller in the
cellar," said she. "Her husband lies snoring on the kitchen rug. Here are his
keys, which are the duplicates of Mr. Rucastle's."
"You have done well indeed!" cried Holmes with enthusi- asm. "Now lead the
way, and we shall soon see the end of this black business."
We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a passage, and found ourselves
in front of the barricade which Miss Hunter had described. Holmes cut the cord and removed
the transverse bar. Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but without success. No
sound came from within, and at the silence Holmes's face clouded over.
"I trust that we are not too late," said he. "I think, Miss Hunter, that we
had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put your shoulder to it, and we shall see
whether we cannot make our way in."
It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united strength. Together we rushed
into the room. It was empty. There was no furniture save a little pallet bed, a small
table, and a basketful of linen. The skylight above was open, and the pris- oner gone.
"There has been some villainy here," said Holmes; "this beauty has guessed
Miss Hunter's intentions and has carried his victim off."
"But how?"
"Through the skylight. We shall soon see how he managed it." He swung himself up
onto the roof. "Ah, yes," he cried, "here's the end of a long light ladder
against the eaves. That is how he did it."
"But it is impossible," said Miss Hunter; "the ladder was not there when
the Rucastles went away."
"He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and dangerous man. I
should not be very much surprised if this were he whose step I hear now upon the stair. I
think, Watson, that it would be as well for you to have your pistol ready."
The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man ap- peared at the door of the room, a
very fat and burly man, with a heavy stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk
against the wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and confronted
him.
"You villain!" said he, "where's your daughter?"
The fat man cast his eyes round, and then up at the open skylight.
"It is for me to ask you that," he shrieked, "you thieves! Spies and
thieves! I have caught you, have l? You are in my power. I'll serve you!" He turned
and clattered down the stairs as hard as he could go.
"He's gone for the dog!" cried Miss Hunter.
"I have my revolver," said I.
"Better close the front door," cried Holmes, and we all rushed down the stairs
together. We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the baying of a hound, and then a
scream of agony, with a horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An
elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door.
"My God!" he cried. "Someone has loosed the dog. It's not been fed for two
days. Quick, quick, or it'll be too late!"
Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Toller hurrying behind us.
There was the huge famished brute, its black muzzle buried in Rucastle's throat, while he
writhed and screamed upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over
with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck. With much labour
we separated them and carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house. We laid
him upon the drawing-room sofa, and having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news
to his wife, I did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him when
the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room.
"Mrs. Toller!" cried Miss Hunter.
"Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went up to you. Ah,
miss, it is a pity you didn't let me know what you were planning, for I would have told
you that your pains were wasted."
"Ha!" said Holmes, looking keenly at her. "It is clear that Mrs. Toller
knows more about this matter than anyone else."
"Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know."
"Then, pray, sit down, and let us hear it for there are several points on which I
must confess that I am still in the dark."
"I will soon make it clear to you," said she; "and I'd have done so before
now if I could ha' got out from the cellar. If there's police-court business over this,
you'll remember that I was the one that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice's
friend too.
"She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn't, from the time that her father
married again. She was slighted like and had no say in anything, but it never really
became bad for her until after she met Mr. Fowler at a friend's house. As well as I could
learn, Miss Alice had rights of her own by will, but she was so quiet and patient, she
was, that she never said a word about them but just left everything in Mr. Rucastle's
hands. He knew he was safe with her; but when there was a chance of a husband coming
forward, who would ask for all that the law would give him, then her father thought it
time to put a stop on it. He wanted her to sign a paper, so that whether she married or
not, he could use her money. When she wouldn't do it, he kept on worrying her until she
got brain-fever, and for six weeks was at death's door. Then she got better at last, all
worn to a shadow, and with her beautiful hair cut off; but that didn't make no change in
her young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be."
"Ah," said Holmes, "I think that what you have been good enough to tell us
makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce all that remains. Mr. Rucastle then,
I presume, took to this system of imprisonment?"
"Yes, sir."
"And brought Miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of the disagreeable
persistence of Mr. Fowler."
"That was it, sir."
"But Mr. Fowler being a persevering man, as a good seaman should be, blockaded the
house, and having met you succeeded by certain arguments, metallic or otherwise, in
convincing you that your interests were the same as his."
"Mr. Fowler was a very kind-spoken, free-handed gentle- man," said Mrs. Toller
serenely.
"And in this way he managed that your good man should have no want of drink, and that
a ladder should be ready at the moment when your master had gone out."
"You have it, sir, just as it happened."
"I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller," said Holmes, "for you have
certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And here comes the country surgeon and
Mrs. Rucastle, so I think. Watson, that we had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester,
as it seems to me that our locus standi now is rather a questionable one."
And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the copper beeches in front of
the door. Mr. Rucastle survived, but was always a broken man, kept alive solely through
the care of his devoted wife. They still live with their old servants, who probably know
so mUch of Rucastle's past life that he finds it difficult to part from them. Mr. Fowler
and Miss Rucastle were married, by special license, in Southampton the day after their
flight, and he is now the holder of a government appointment in the island of Mauritius.
As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no
further interest in her when once she had ceased to be the centre of one of his problems,
and she is now the head of a private school at Walsall, where I believe that she has met
with considerable success.
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