The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes

by Arthur Conan Doyle

  VIII. THE ADVENTURE OF THE SPECKLED BAND

  On glancing over my notes of the seventy odd cases in which Ihave during the last eight years studied the methods of my friendSherlock Holmes, I find many tragic, some comic, a large numbermerely strange, but none commonplace; for, working as he didrather for the love of his art than for the acquirement ofwealth, he refused to associate himself with any investigationwhich did not tend towards the unusual, and even the fantastic.Of all these varied cases, however, I cannot recall any whichpresented more singular features than that which was associatedwith the well-known Surrey family of the Roylotts of Stoke Moran.The events in question occurred in the early days of myassociation with Holmes, when we were sharing rooms as bachelorsin Baker Street. It is possible that I might have placed themupon record before, but a promise of secrecy was made at thetime, from which I have only been freed during the last month bythe untimely death of the lady to whom the pledge was given. Itis perhaps as well that the facts should now come to light, for Ihave reasons to know that there are widespread rumours as to thedeath of Dr. Grimesby Roylott which tend to make the matter evenmore terrible than the truth.

  It was early in April in the year '83 that I woke one morning tofind Sherlock Holmes standing, fully dressed, by the side of mybed. He was a late riser, as a rule, and as the clock on themantelpiece showed me that it was only a quarter-past seven, Iblinked up at him in some surprise, and perhaps just a littleresentment, for I was myself regular in my habits.

  "Very sorry to knock you up, Watson," said he, "but it's thecommon lot this morning. Mrs. Hudson has been knocked up, sheretorted upon me, and I on you."

  "What is it, then--a fire?"

  "No; a client. It seems that a young lady has arrived in aconsiderable state of excitement, who insists upon seeing me. Sheis waiting now in the sitting-room. Now, when young ladies wanderabout the metropolis at this hour of the morning, and knocksleepy people up out of their beds, I presume that it issomething very pressing which they have to communicate. Should itprove to be an interesting case, you would, I am sure, wish tofollow it from the outset. I thought, at any rate, that I shouldcall you and give you the chance."

  "My dear fellow, I would not miss it for anything."

  I had no keener pleasure than in following Holmes in hisprofessional investigations, and in admiring the rapiddeductions, as swift as intuitions, and yet always founded on alogical basis with which he unravelled the problems which weresubmitted to him. I rapidly threw on my clothes and was ready ina few minutes to accompany my friend down to the sitting-room. Alady dressed in black and heavily veiled, who had been sitting inthe window, rose as we entered.

  "Good-morning, madam," said Holmes cheerily. "My name is SherlockHolmes. This is my intimate friend and associate, Dr. Watson,before whom you can speak as freely as before myself. Ha! I amglad to see that Mrs. Hudson has had the good sense to light thefire. Pray draw up to it, and I shall order you a cup of hotcoffee, for I observe that you are shivering."

  "It is not cold which makes me shiver," said the woman in a lowvoice, changing her seat as requested.

  "What, then?"

  "It is fear, Mr. Holmes. It is terror." She raised her veil asshe spoke, and we could see that she was indeed in a pitiablestate of agitation, her face all drawn and grey, with restlessfrightened eyes, like those of some hunted animal. Her featuresand figure were those of a woman of thirty, but her hair was shotwith premature grey, and her expression was weary and haggard.Sherlock Holmes ran her over with one of his quick,all-comprehensive glances.

  "You must not fear," said he soothingly, bending forward andpatting her forearm. "We shall soon set matters right, I have nodoubt. You have come in by train this morning, I see."

  "You know me, then?"

  "No, but I observe the second half of a return ticket in the palmof your left glove. You must have started early, and yet you hada good drive in a dog-cart, along heavy roads, before you reachedthe station."

  The lady gave a violent start and stared in bewilderment at mycompanion.

  "There is no mystery, my dear madam," said he, smiling. "The leftarm of your jacket is spattered with mud in no less than sevenplaces. The marks are perfectly fresh. There is no vehicle save adog-cart which throws up mud in that way, and then only when yousit on the left-hand side of the driver."

  "Whatever your reasons may be, you are perfectly correct," saidshe. "I started from home before six, reached Leatherhead attwenty past, and came in by the first train to Waterloo. Sir, Ican stand this strain no longer; I shall go mad if it continues.I have no one to turn to--none, save only one, who cares for me,and he, poor fellow, can be of little aid. I have heard of you,Mr. Holmes; I have heard of you from Mrs. Farintosh, whom youhelped in the hour of her sore need. It was from her that I hadyour address. Oh, sir, do you not think that you could help me,too, and at least throw a little light through the dense darknesswhich surrounds me? At present it is out of my power to rewardyou for your services, but in a month or six weeks I shall bemarried, with the control of my own income, and then at least youshall not find me ungrateful."

  Holmes turned to his desk and, unlocking it, drew out a smallcase-book, which he consulted.

  "Farintosh," said he. "Ah yes, I recall the case; it wasconcerned with an opal tiara. I think it was before your time,Watson. I can only say, madam, that I shall be happy to devotethe same care to your case as I did to that of your friend. As toreward, my profession is its own reward; but you are at libertyto defray whatever expenses I may be put to, at the time whichsuits you best. And now I beg that you will lay before useverything that may help us in forming an opinion upon thematter."

  "Alas!" replied our visitor, "the very horror of my situationlies in the fact that my fears are so vague, and my suspicionsdepend so entirely upon small points, which might seem trivial toanother, that even he to whom of all others I have a right tolook for help and advice looks upon all that I tell him about itas the fancies of a nervous woman. He does not say so, but I canread it from his soothing answers and averted eyes. But I haveheard, Mr. Holmes, that you can see deeply into the manifoldwickedness of the human heart. You may advise me how to walk amidthe dangers which encompass me."

  "I am all attention, madam."

  "My name is Helen Stoner, and I am living with my stepfather, whois the last survivor of one of the oldest Saxon families inEngland, the Roylotts of Stoke Moran, on the western border ofSurrey."

  Holmes nodded his head. "The name is familiar to me," said he.

  "The family was at one time among the richest in England, and theestates extended over the borders into Berkshire in the north,and Hampshire in the west. In the last century, however, foursuccessive heirs were of a dissolute and wasteful disposition,and the family ruin was eventually completed by a gambler in thedays of the Regency. Nothing was left save a few acres of ground,and the two-hundred-year-old house, which is itself crushed undera heavy mortgage. The last squire dragged out his existencethere, living the horrible life of an aristocratic pauper; buthis only son, my stepfather, seeing that he must adapt himself tothe new conditions, obtained an advance from a relative, whichenabled him to take a medical degree and went out to Calcutta,where, by his professional skill and his force of character, heestablished a large practice. In a fit of anger, however, causedby some robberies which had been perpetrated in the house, hebeat his native butler to death and narrowly escaped a capitalsentence. As it was, he suffered a long term of imprisonment andafterwards returned to England a morose and disappointed man.

  "When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner,the young widow of Major-General Stoner, of the Bengal Artillery.My sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years oldat the time of my mother's re-marriage. She had a considerablesum of money--not less than 1000 pounds a year--and this shebequeathed to Dr. Roylott entirely while we resided with him,with a provision that a certain annual sum should be allowed toeach of us in the event of our marriage. Shortly after our returnto Englan
d my mother died--she was killed eight years ago in arailway accident near Crewe. Dr. Roylott then abandoned hisattempts to establish himself in practice in London and took usto live with him in the old ancestral house at Stoke Moran. Themoney which my mother had left was enough for all our wants, andthere seemed to be no obstacle to our happiness.

  "But a terrible change came over our stepfather about this time.Instead of making friends and exchanging visits with ourneighbours, who had at first been overjoyed to see a Roylott ofStoke Moran back in the old family seat, he shut himself up inhis house and seldom came out save to indulge in ferociousquarrels with whoever might cross his path. Violence of temperapproaching to mania has been hereditary in the men of thefamily, and in my stepfather's case it had, I believe, beenintensified by his long residence in the tropics. A series ofdisgraceful brawls took place, two of which ended in thepolice-court, until at last he became the terror of the village,and the folks would fly at his approach, for he is a man ofimmense strength, and absolutely uncontrollable in his anger.

  "Last week he hurled the local blacksmith over a parapet into astream, and it was only by paying over all the money which Icould gather together that I was able to avert another publicexposure. He had no friends at all save the wandering gipsies,and he would give these vagabonds leave to encamp upon the fewacres of bramble-covered land which represent the family estate,and would accept in return the hospitality of their tents,wandering away with them sometimes for weeks on end. He has apassion also for Indian animals, which are sent over to him by acorrespondent, and he has at this moment a cheetah and a baboon,which wander freely over his grounds and are feared by thevillagers almost as much as their master.

  "You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and Ihad no great pleasure in our lives. No servant would stay withus, and for a long time we did all the work of the house. She wasbut thirty at the time of her death, and yet her hair had alreadybegun to whiten, even as mine has."

  "Your sister is dead, then?"

  "She died just two years ago, and it is of her death that I wishto speak to you. You can understand that, living the life which Ihave described, we were little likely to see anyone of our ownage and position. We had, however, an aunt, my mother's maidensister, Miss Honoria Westphail, who lives near Harrow, and wewere occasionally allowed to pay short visits at this lady'shouse. Julia went there at Christmas two years ago, and met therea half-pay major of marines, to whom she became engaged. Mystepfather learned of the engagement when my sister returned andoffered no objection to the marriage; but within a fortnight ofthe day which had been fixed for the wedding, the terrible eventoccurred which has deprived me of my only companion."

  Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyesclosed and his head sunk in a cushion, but he half opened hislids now and glanced across at his visitor.

  "Pray be precise as to details," said he.

  "It is easy for me to be so, for every event of that dreadfultime is seared into my memory. The manor-house is, as I havealready said, very old, and only one wing is now inhabited. Thebedrooms in this wing are on the ground floor, the sitting-roomsbeing in the central block of the buildings. Of these bedroomsthe first is Dr. Roylott's, the second my sister's, and the thirdmy own. There is no communication between them, but they all openout into the same corridor. Do I make myself plain?"

  "Perfectly so."

  "The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn. Thatfatal night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early, though weknew that he had not retired to rest, for my sister was troubledby the smell of the strong Indian cigars which it was his customto smoke. She left her room, therefore, and came into mine, whereshe sat for some time, chatting about her approaching wedding. Ateleven o'clock she rose to leave me, but she paused at the doorand looked back.

  "'Tell me, Helen,' said she, 'have you ever heard anyone whistlein the dead of the night?'

  "'Never,' said I.

  "'I suppose that you could not possibly whistle, yourself, inyour sleep?'

  "'Certainly not. But why?'

  "'Because during the last few nights I have always, about threein the morning, heard a low, clear whistle. I am a light sleeper,and it has awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from--perhapsfrom the next room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought that I wouldjust ask you whether you had heard it.'

  "'No, I have not. It must be those wretched gipsies in theplantation.'

  "'Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I wonder that youdid not hear it also.'

  "'Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.'

  "'Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.' She smiledback at me, closed my door, and a few moments later I heard herkey turn in the lock."

  "Indeed," said Holmes. "Was it your custom always to lockyourselves in at night?"

  "Always."

  "And why?"

  "I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetahand a baboon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors werelocked."

  "Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement."

  "I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impendingmisfortune impressed me. My sister and I, you will recollect,were twins, and you know how subtle are the links which bind twosouls which are so closely allied. It was a wild night. The windwas howling outside, and the rain was beating and splashingagainst the windows. Suddenly, amid all the hubbub of the gale,there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knewthat it was my sister's voice. I sprang from my bed, wrapped ashawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my doorI seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, anda few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal hadfallen. As I ran down the passage, my sister's door was unlocked,and revolved slowly upon its hinges. I stared at ithorror-stricken, not knowing what was about to issue from it. Bythe light of the corridor-lamp I saw my sister appear at theopening, her face blanched with terror, her hands groping forhelp, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that of adrunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at thatmoment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground.She writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs weredreadfully convulsed. At first I thought that she had notrecognised me, but as I bent over her she suddenly shrieked outin a voice which I shall never forget, 'Oh, my God! Helen! It wasthe band! The speckled band!' There was something else which shewould fain have said, and she stabbed with her finger into theair in the direction of the doctor's room, but a fresh convulsionseized her and choked her words. I rushed out, calling loudly formy stepfather, and I met him hastening from his room in hisdressing-gown. When he reached my sister's side she wasunconscious, and though he poured brandy down her throat and sentfor medical aid from the village, all efforts were in vain, forshe slowly sank and died without having recovered herconsciousness. Such was the dreadful end of my beloved sister."

  "One moment," said Holmes, "are you sure about this whistle andmetallic sound? Could you swear to it?"

  "That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It ismy strong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash ofthe gale and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly havebeen deceived."

  "Was your sister dressed?"

  "No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found thecharred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box."

  "Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her whenthe alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions didthe coroner come to?"

  "He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott'sconduct had long been notorious in the county, but he was unableto find any satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed thatthe door had been fastened upon the inner side, and the windowswere blocked by old-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars,which were secured every night. The walls were carefully sounded,and were shown to be quite solid all round, and the flooring wasalso thoroughly examined, with the same result. The chimney iswide, but is barred up by four l
arge staples. It is certain,therefore, that my sister was quite alone when she met her end.Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon her."

  "How about poison?"

  "The doctors examined her for it, but without success."

  "What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?"

  "It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock,though what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine."

  "Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time?"

  "Yes, there are nearly always some there."

  "Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band--aspeckled band?"

  "Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk ofdelirium, sometimes that it may have referred to some band ofpeople, perhaps to these very gipsies in the plantation. I do notknow whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so many of them wearover their heads might have suggested the strange adjective whichshe used."

  Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied.

  "These are very deep waters," said he; "pray go on with yournarrative."

  "Two years have passed since then, and my life has been untillately lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend,whom I have known for many years, has done me the honour to askmy hand in marriage. His name is Armitage--Percy Armitage--thesecond son of Mr. Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. Mystepfather has offered no opposition to the match, and we are tobe married in the course of the spring. Two days ago some repairswere started in the west wing of the building, and my bedroomwall has been pierced, so that I have had to move into thechamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the very bed inwhich she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when lastnight, as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, Isuddenly heard in the silence of the night the low whistle whichhad been the herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit thelamp, but nothing was to be seen in the room. I was too shaken togo to bed again, however, so I dressed, and as soon as it wasdaylight I slipped down, got a dog-cart at the Crown Inn, whichis opposite, and drove to Leatherhead, from whence I have come onthis morning with the one object of seeing you and asking youradvice."

  "You have done wisely," said my friend. "But have you told meall?"

  "Yes, all."

  "Miss Roylott, you have not. You are screening your stepfather."

  "Why, what do you mean?"

  For answer Holmes pushed back the frill of black lace whichfringed the hand that lay upon our visitor's knee. Five littlelivid spots, the marks of four fingers and a thumb, were printedupon the white wrist.

  "You have been cruelly used," said Holmes.

  The lady coloured deeply and covered over her injured wrist. "Heis a hard man," she said, "and perhaps he hardly knows his ownstrength."

  There was a long silence, during which Holmes leaned his chinupon his hands and stared into the crackling fire.

  "This is a very deep business," he said at last. "There are athousand details which I should desire to know before I decideupon our course of action. Yet we have not a moment to lose. Ifwe were to come to Stoke Moran to-day, would it be possible forus to see over these rooms without the knowledge of yourstepfather?"

  "As it happens, he spoke of coming into town to-day upon somemost important business. It is probable that he will be away allday, and that there would be nothing to disturb you. We have ahousekeeper now, but she is old and foolish, and I could easilyget her out of the way."

  "Excellent. You are not averse to this trip, Watson?"

  "By no means."

  "Then we shall both come. What are you going to do yourself?"

  "I have one or two things which I would wish to do now that I amin town. But I shall return by the twelve o'clock train, so as tobe there in time for your coming."

  "And you may expect us early in the afternoon. I have myself somesmall business matters to attend to. Will you not wait andbreakfast?"

  "No, I must go. My heart is lightened already since I haveconfided my trouble to you. I shall look forward to seeing youagain this afternoon." She dropped her thick black veil over herface and glided from the room.

  "And what do you think of it all, Watson?" asked Sherlock Holmes,leaning back in his chair.

  "It seems to me to be a most dark and sinister business."

  "Dark enough and sinister enough."

  "Yet if the lady is correct in saying that the flooring and wallsare sound, and that the door, window, and chimney are impassable,then her sister must have been undoubtedly alone when she met hermysterious end."

  "What becomes, then, of these nocturnal whistles, and what of thevery peculiar words of the dying woman?"

  "I cannot think."

  "When you combine the ideas of whistles at night, the presence ofa band of gipsies who are on intimate terms with this old doctor,the fact that we have every reason to believe that the doctor hasan interest in preventing his stepdaughter's marriage, the dyingallusion to a band, and, finally, the fact that Miss Helen Stonerheard a metallic clang, which might have been caused by one ofthose metal bars that secured the shutters falling back into itsplace, I think that there is good ground to think that themystery may be cleared along those lines."

  "But what, then, did the gipsies do?"

  "I cannot imagine."

  "I see many objections to any such theory."

  "And so do I. It is precisely for that reason that we are goingto Stoke Moran this day. I want to see whether the objections arefatal, or if they may be explained away. But what in the name ofthe devil!"

  The ejaculation had been drawn from my companion by the fact thatour door had been suddenly dashed open, and that a huge man hadframed himself in the aperture. His costume was a peculiarmixture of the professional and of the agricultural, having ablack top-hat, a long frock-coat, and a pair of high gaiters,with a hunting-crop swinging in his hand. So tall was he that hishat actually brushed the cross bar of the doorway, and hisbreadth seemed to span it across from side to side. A large face,seared with a thousand wrinkles, burned yellow with the sun, andmarked with every evil passion, was turned from one to the otherof us, while his deep-set, bile-shot eyes, and his high, thin,fleshless nose, gave him somewhat the resemblance to a fierce oldbird of prey.

  "Which of you is Holmes?" asked this apparition.

  "My name, sir; but you have the advantage of me," said mycompanion quietly.

  "I am Dr. Grimesby Roylott, of Stoke Moran."

  "Indeed, Doctor," said Holmes blandly. "Pray take a seat."

  "I will do nothing of the kind. My stepdaughter has been here. Ihave traced her. What has she been saying to you?"

  "It is a little cold for the time of the year," said Holmes.

  "What has she been saying to you?" screamed the old manfuriously.

  "But I have heard that the crocuses promise well," continued mycompanion imperturbably.

  "Ha! You put me off, do you?" said our new visitor, taking a stepforward and shaking his hunting-crop. "I know you, you scoundrel!I have heard of you before. You are Holmes, the meddler."

  My friend smiled.

  "Holmes, the busybody!"

  His smile broadened.

  "Holmes, the Scotland Yard Jack-in-office!"

  Holmes chuckled heartily. "Your conversation is mostentertaining," said he. "When you go out close the door, forthere is a decided draught."

  "I will go when I have said my say. Don't you dare to meddle withmy affairs. I know that Miss Stoner has been here. I traced her!I am a dangerous man to fall foul of! See here." He steppedswiftly forward, seized the poker, and bent it into a curve withhis huge brown hands.

  "See that you keep yourself out of my grip," he snarled, andhurling the twisted poker into the fireplace he strode out of theroom.

  "He seems a very amiable person," said Holmes, laughing. "I amnot quite so bulky, but if he had remained I might have shown himthat my grip was not much more feeble than his own." As he spokehe picked up the steel poker and, with a sudden effort,straighten
ed it out again.

  "Fancy his having the insolence to confound me with the officialdetective force! This incident gives zest to our investigation,however, and I only trust that our little friend will not sufferfrom her imprudence in allowing this brute to trace her. And now,Watson, we shall order breakfast, and afterwards I shall walkdown to Doctors' Commons, where I hope to get some data which mayhelp us in this matter."

  It was nearly one o'clock when Sherlock Holmes returned from hisexcursion. He held in his hand a sheet of blue paper, scrawledover with notes and figures.

  "I have seen the will of the deceased wife," said he. "Todetermine its exact meaning I have been obliged to work out thepresent prices of the investments with which it is concerned. Thetotal income, which at the time of the wife's death was littleshort of 1100 pounds, is now, through the fall in agriculturalprices, not more than 750 pounds. Each daughter can claim anincome of 250 pounds, in case of marriage. It is evident,therefore, that if both girls had married, this beauty would havehad a mere pittance, while even one of them would cripple him toa very serious extent. My morning's work has not been wasted,since it has proved that he has the very strongest motives forstanding in the way of anything of the sort. And now, Watson,this is too serious for dawdling, especially as the old man isaware that we are interesting ourselves in his affairs; so if youare ready, we shall call a cab and drive to Waterloo. I should bevery much obliged if you would slip your revolver into yourpocket. An Eley's No. 2 is an excellent argument with gentlemenwho can twist steel pokers into knots. That and a tooth-brushare, I think, all that we need."

  At Waterloo we were fortunate in catching a train forLeatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn and drovefor four or five miles through the lovely Surrey lanes. It was aperfect day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in theheavens. The trees and wayside hedges were just throwing outtheir first green shoots, and the air was full of the pleasantsmell of the moist earth. To me at least there was a strangecontrast between the sweet promise of the spring and thissinister quest upon which we were engaged. My companion sat inthe front of the trap, his arms folded, his hat pulled down overhis eyes, and his chin sunk upon his breast, buried in thedeepest thought. Suddenly, however, he started, tapped me on theshoulder, and pointed over the meadows.

  "Look there!" said he.

  A heavily timbered park stretched up in a gentle slope,thickening into a grove at the highest point. From amid thebranches there jutted out the grey gables and high roof-tree of avery old mansion.

  "Stoke Moran?" said he.

  "Yes, sir, that be the house of Dr. Grimesby Roylott," remarkedthe driver.

  "There is some building going on there," said Holmes; "that iswhere we are going."

  "There's the village," said the driver, pointing to a cluster ofroofs some distance to the left; "but if you want to get to thehouse, you'll find it shorter to get over this stile, and so bythe foot-path over the fields. There it is, where the lady iswalking."

  "And the lady, I fancy, is Miss Stoner," observed Holmes, shadinghis eyes. "Yes, I think we had better do as you suggest."

  We got off, paid our fare, and the trap rattled back on its wayto Leatherhead.

  "I thought it as well," said Holmes as we climbed the stile,"that this fellow should think we had come here as architects, oron some definite business. It may stop his gossip.Good-afternoon, Miss Stoner. You see that we have been as good asour word."

  Our client of the morning had hurried forward to meet us with aface which spoke her joy. "I have been waiting so eagerly foryou," she cried, shaking hands with us warmly. "All has turnedout splendidly. Dr. Roylott has gone to town, and it is unlikelythat he will be back before evening."

  "We have had the pleasure of making the doctor's acquaintance,"said Holmes, and in a few words he sketched out what hadoccurred. Miss Stoner turned white to the lips as she listened.

  "Good heavens!" she cried, "he has followed me, then."

  "So it appears."

  "He is so cunning that I never know when I am safe from him. Whatwill he say when he returns?"

  "He must guard himself, for he may find that there is someonemore cunning than himself upon his track. You must lock yourselfup from him to-night. If he is violent, we shall take you away toyour aunt's at Harrow. Now, we must make the best use of ourtime, so kindly take us at once to the rooms which we are toexamine."

  The building was of grey, lichen-blotched stone, with a highcentral portion and two curving wings, like the claws of a crab,thrown out on each side. In one of these wings the windows werebroken and blocked with wooden boards, while the roof was partlycaved in, a picture of ruin. The central portion was in littlebetter repair, but the right-hand block was comparatively modern,and the blinds in the windows, with the blue smoke curling upfrom the chimneys, showed that this was where the family resided.Some scaffolding had been erected against the end wall, and thestone-work had been broken into, but there were no signs of anyworkmen at the moment of our visit. Holmes walked slowly up anddown the ill-trimmed lawn and examined with deep attention theoutsides of the windows.

  "This, I take it, belongs to the room in which you used to sleep,the centre one to your sister's, and the one next to the mainbuilding to Dr. Roylott's chamber?"

  "Exactly so. But I am now sleeping in the middle one."

  "Pending the alterations, as I understand. By the way, there doesnot seem to be any very pressing need for repairs at that endwall."

  "There were none. I believe that it was an excuse to move me frommy room."

  "Ah! that is suggestive. Now, on the other side of this narrowwing runs the corridor from which these three rooms open. Thereare windows in it, of course?"

  "Yes, but very small ones. Too narrow for anyone to passthrough."

  "As you both locked your doors at night, your rooms wereunapproachable from that side. Now, would you have the kindnessto go into your room and bar your shutters?"

  Miss Stoner did so, and Holmes, after a careful examinationthrough the open window, endeavoured in every way to force theshutter open, but without success. There was no slit throughwhich a knife could be passed to raise the bar. Then with hislens he tested the hinges, but they were of solid iron, builtfirmly into the massive masonry. "Hum!" said he, scratching hischin in some perplexity, "my theory certainly presents somedifficulties. No one could pass these shutters if they werebolted. Well, we shall see if the inside throws any light uponthe matter."

  A small side door led into the whitewashed corridor from whichthe three bedrooms opened. Holmes refused to examine the thirdchamber, so we passed at once to the second, that in which MissStoner was now sleeping, and in which her sister had met with herfate. It was a homely little room, with a low ceiling and agaping fireplace, after the fashion of old country-houses. Abrown chest of drawers stood in one corner, a narrowwhite-counterpaned bed in another, and a dressing-table on theleft-hand side of the window. These articles, with two smallwicker-work chairs, made up all the furniture in the room savefor a square of Wilton carpet in the centre. The boards round andthe panelling of the walls were of brown, worm-eaten oak, so oldand discoloured that it may have dated from the original buildingof the house. Holmes drew one of the chairs into a corner and satsilent, while his eyes travelled round and round and up and down,taking in every detail of the apartment.

  "Where does that bell communicate with?" he asked at lastpointing to a thick bell-rope which hung down beside the bed, thetassel actually lying upon the pillow.

  "It goes to the housekeeper's room."

  "It looks newer than the other things?"

  "Yes, it was only put there a couple of years ago."

  "Your sister asked for it, I suppose?"

  "No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what wewanted for ourselves."

  "Indeed, it seemed unnecessary to put so nice a bell-pull there.You will excuse me for a few minutes while I satisfy myself as tothis floor." He threw himself down upon his face with his lens inhis hand and cr
awled swiftly backward and forward, examiningminutely the cracks between the boards. Then he did the same withthe wood-work with which the chamber was panelled. Finally hewalked over to the bed and spent some time in staring at it andin running his eye up and down the wall. Finally he took thebell-rope in his hand and gave it a brisk tug.

  "Why, it's a dummy," said he.

  "Won't it ring?"

  "No, it is not even attached to a wire. This is very interesting.You can see now that it is fastened to a hook just above wherethe little opening for the ventilator is."

  "How very absurd! I never noticed that before."

  "Very strange!" muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. "There areone or two very singular points about this room. For example,what a fool a builder must be to open a ventilator into anotherroom, when, with the same trouble, he might have communicatedwith the outside air!"

  "That is also quite modern," said the lady.

  "Done about the same time as the bell-rope?" remarked Holmes.

  "Yes, there were several little changes carried out about thattime."

  "They seem to have been of a most interesting character--dummybell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With yourpermission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches intothe inner apartment."

  Dr. Grimesby Roylott's chamber was larger than that of hisstep-daughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp-bed, a smallwooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, anarmchair beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, around table, and a large iron safe were the principal thingswhich met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined eachand all of them with the keenest interest.

  "What's in here?" he asked, tapping the safe.

  "My stepfather's business papers."

  "Oh! you have seen inside, then?"

  "Only once, some years ago. I remember that it was full ofpapers."

  "There isn't a cat in it, for example?"

  "No. What a strange idea!"

  "Well, look at this!" He took up a small saucer of milk whichstood on the top of it.

  "No; we don't keep a cat. But there is a cheetah and a baboon."

  "Ah, yes, of course! Well, a cheetah is just a big cat, and yet asaucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, Idaresay. There is one point which I should wish to determine." Hesquatted down in front of the wooden chair and examined the seatof it with the greatest attention.

  "Thank you. That is quite settled," said he, rising and puttinghis lens in his pocket. "Hullo! Here is something interesting!"

  The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung onone corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itselfand tied so as to make a loop of whipcord.

  "What do you make of that, Watson?"

  "It's a common enough lash. But I don't know why it should betied."

  "That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it's a wicked world,and when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the worstof all. I think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner, andwith your permission we shall walk out upon the lawn."

  I had never seen my friend's face so grim or his brow so dark asit was when we turned from the scene of this investigation. Wehad walked several times up and down the lawn, neither MissStoner nor myself liking to break in upon his thoughts before heroused himself from his reverie.

  "It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he, "that you shouldabsolutely follow my advice in every respect."

  "I shall most certainly do so."

  "The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life maydepend upon your compliance."

  "I assure you that I am in your hands."

  "In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night inyour room."

  Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment.

  "Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is thevillage inn over there?"

  "Yes, that is the Crown."

  "Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?"

  "Certainly."

  "You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of aheadache, when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear himretire for the night, you must open the shutters of your window,undo the hasp, put your lamp there as a signal to us, and thenwithdraw quietly with everything which you are likely to wantinto the room which you used to occupy. I have no doubt that, inspite of the repairs, you could manage there for one night."

  "Oh, yes, easily."

  "The rest you will leave in our hands."

  "But what will you do?"

  "We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investigatethe cause of this noise which has disturbed you."

  "I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your mind,"said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion's sleeve.

  "Perhaps I have."

  "Then, for pity's sake, tell me what was the cause of my sister'sdeath."

  "I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak."

  "You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, andif she died from some sudden fright."

  "No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some moretangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you for ifDr. Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in vain.Good-bye, and be brave, for if you will do what I have told you,you may rest assured that we shall soon drive away the dangersthat threaten you."

  Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom andsitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, andfrom our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, andof the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we sawDr. Grimesby Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up besidethe little figure of the lad who drove him. The boy had someslight difficulty in undoing the heavy iron gates, and we heardthe hoarse roar of the doctor's voice and saw the fury with whichhe shook his clinched fists at him. The trap drove on, and a fewminutes later we saw a sudden light spring up among the trees asthe lamp was lit in one of the sitting-rooms.

  "Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat together in thegathering darkness, "I have really some scruples as to taking youto-night. There is a distinct element of danger."

  "Can I be of assistance?"

  "Your presence might be invaluable."

  "Then I shall certainly come."

  "It is very kind of you."

  "You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these roomsthan was visible to me."

  "No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imaginethat you saw all that I did."

  "I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purposethat could answer I confess is more than I can imagine."

  "You saw the ventilator, too?"

  "Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing tohave a small opening between two rooms. It was so small that arat could hardly pass through."

  "I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came toStoke Moran."

  "My dear Holmes!"

  "Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that hersister could smell Dr. Roylott's cigar. Now, of course thatsuggested at once that there must be a communication between thetwo rooms. It could only be a small one, or it would have beenremarked upon at the coroner's inquiry. I deduced a ventilator."

  "But what harm can there be in that?"

  "Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. Aventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in thebed dies. Does not that strike you?"

  "I cannot as yet see any connection."

  "Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?"

  "No."

  "It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastenedlike that before?"

  "I cannot say that I have."

  "The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the samerelative position to the ventilator and to the rope--or so we maycall it, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull."

&nbs
p; "Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at.We are only just in time to prevent some subtle and horriblecrime."

  "Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wronghe is the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge.Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of their profession.This man strikes even deeper, but I think, Watson, that we shallbe able to strike deeper still. But we shall have horrors enoughbefore the night is over; for goodness' sake let us have a quietpipe and turn our minds for a few hours to something morecheerful."

  About nine o'clock the light among the trees was extinguished,and all was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hourspassed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke ofeleven, a single bright light shone out right in front of us.

  "That is our signal," said Holmes, springing to his feet; "itcomes from the middle window."

  As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord,explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance,and that it was possible that we might spend the night there. Amoment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowingin our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of usthrough the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.

  There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, forunrepaired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our wayamong the trees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were aboutto enter through the window when out from a clump of laurelbushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and distortedchild, who threw itself upon the grass with writhing limbs andthen ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness.

  "My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?"

  Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed likea vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a lowlaugh and put his lips to my ear.

  "It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon."

  I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected. Therewas a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shouldersat any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when,after following Holmes' example and slipping off my shoes, Ifound myself inside the bedroom. My companion noiselessly closedthe shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and cast his eyesround the room. All was as we had seen it in the daytime. Thencreeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, he whisperedinto my ear again so gently that it was all that I could do todistinguish the words:

  "The least sound would be fatal to our plans."

  I nodded to show that I had heard.

  "We must sit without light. He would see it through theventilator."

  I nodded again.

  "Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have yourpistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side ofthe bed, and you in that chair."

  I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.

  Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed uponthe bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and thestump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we were leftin darkness.

  How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear asound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that mycompanion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the samestate of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cutoff the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness.

  From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once atour very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us thatthe cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear thedeep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter ofan hour. How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, andone and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently forwhatever might befall.

  Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in thedirection of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but wassucceeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal.Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentlesound of movement, and then all was silent once more, though thesmell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining ears.Then suddenly another sound became audible--a very gentle,soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escapingcontinually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmessprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously withhis cane at the bell-pull.

  "You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?"

  But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light Iheard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into myweary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was at whichmy friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his facewas deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing. He hadceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator whensuddenly there broke from the silence of the night the mosthorrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louderand louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingledin the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in thevillage, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised thesleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and Istood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of ithad died away into the silence from which it rose.

  "What can it mean?" I gasped.

  "It means that it is all over," Holmes answered. "And perhaps,after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we willenter Dr. Roylott's room."

  With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down thecorridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without any replyfrom within. Then he turned the handle and entered, I at hisheels, with the cocked pistol in my hand.

  It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood adark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliantbeam of light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar.Beside this table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylottclad in a long grey dressing-gown, his bare ankles protrudingbeneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers.Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash which wehad noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward and hiseyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of theceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band, withbrownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round hishead. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion.

  "The band! the speckled band!" whispered Holmes.

  I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear beganto move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squatdiamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent.

  "It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the deadliest snake inIndia. He has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violencedoes, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer fallsinto the pit which he digs for another. Let us thrust thiscreature back into its den, and we can then remove Miss Stoner tosome place of shelter and let the county police know what hashappened."

  As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead man's lap,and throwing the noose round the reptile's neck he drew it fromits horrid perch and, carrying it at arm's length, threw it intothe iron safe, which he closed upon it.

  Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott, ofStoke Moran. It is not necessary that I should prolong anarrative which has already run to too great a length by tellinghow we broke the sad news to the terrified girl, how we conveyedher by the morning train to the care of her good aunt at Harrow,of how the slow process of official inquiry came to theconclusion that the doctor met his fate while indiscreetlyplaying with a dangerous pet. The little which I had yet to learnof the case was told me by Sherlock Holmes as we travelled backnext day.

  "I had," said he, "come to an entirely erroneous conclusion whichshows, my dear Watson, how dangerous it always is to reason frominsufficient data. The presence of the gipsies, and the use ofthe word 'band,' which was used by the poor girl, no doubt, toexplain the appearance which she had caught a hurried glimpse ofby the light of her match, were sufficient to put me upon anentirely wrong scent. I can only claim the merit that I instantlyreconsidered my
position when, however, it became clear to methat whatever danger threatened an occupant of the room could notcome either from the window or the door. My attention wasspeedily drawn, as I have already remarked to you, to thisventilator, and to the bell-rope which hung down to the bed. Thediscovery that this was a dummy, and that the bed was clamped tothe floor, instantly gave rise to the suspicion that the rope wasthere as a bridge for something passing through the hole andcoming to the bed. The idea of a snake instantly occurred to me,and when I coupled it with my knowledge that the doctor wasfurnished with a supply of creatures from India, I felt that Iwas probably on the right track. The idea of using a form ofpoison which could not possibly be discovered by any chemicaltest was just such a one as would occur to a clever and ruthlessman who had had an Eastern training. The rapidity with which sucha poison would take effect would also, from his point of view, bean advantage. It would be a sharp-eyed coroner, indeed, who coulddistinguish the two little dark punctures which would show wherethe poison fangs had done their work. Then I thought of thewhistle. Of course he must recall the snake before the morninglight revealed it to the victim. He had trained it, probably bythe use of the milk which we saw, to return to him when summoned.He would put it through this ventilator at the hour that hethought best, with the certainty that it would crawl down therope and land on the bed. It might or might not bite theoccupant, perhaps she might escape every night for a week, butsooner or later she must fall a victim.

  "I had come to these conclusions before ever I had entered hisroom. An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been inthe habit of standing on it, which of course would be necessaryin order that he should reach the ventilator. The sight of thesafe, the saucer of milk, and the loop of whipcord were enough tofinally dispel any doubts which may have remained. The metallicclang heard by Miss Stoner was obviously caused by her stepfatherhastily closing the door of his safe upon its terrible occupant.Having once made up my mind, you know the steps which I took inorder to put the matter to the proof. I heard the creature hissas I have no doubt that you did also, and I instantly lit thelight and attacked it."

  "With the result of driving it through the ventilator."

  "And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its masterat the other side. Some of the blows of my cane came home androused its snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first personit saw. In this way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr.Grimesby Roylott's death, and I cannot say that it is likely toweigh very heavily upon my conscience."