X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR
The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, havelong ceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circlesin which the unfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals haveeclipsed it, and their more piquant details have drawn thegossips away from this four-year-old drama. As I have reason tobelieve, however, that the full facts have never been revealed tothe general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmes had aconsiderable share in clearing the matter up, I feel that nomemoir of him would be complete without some little sketch ofthis remarkable episode.
It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when Iwas still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he camehome from an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the tablewaiting for him. I had remained indoors all day, for the weatherhad taken a sudden turn to rain, with high autumnal winds, andthe Jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of my limbs asa relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence.With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I hadsurrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last,saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all aside andlay listless, watching the huge crest and monogram upon theenvelope upon the table and wondering lazily who my friend'snoble correspondent could be.
"Here is a very fashionable epistle," I remarked as he entered."Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from afish-monger and a tide-waiter."
"Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety," heanswered, smiling, "and the humbler are usually the moreinteresting. This looks like one of those unwelcome socialsummonses which call upon a man either to be bored or to lie."
He broke the seal and glanced over the contents.
"Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all."
"Not social, then?"
"No, distinctly professional."
"And from a noble client?"
"One of the highest in England."
"My dear fellow, I congratulate you."
"I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of myclient is a matter of less moment to me than the interest of hiscase. It is just possible, however, that that also may not bewanting in this new investigation. You have been reading thepapers diligently of late, have you not?"
"It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle inthe corner. "I have had nothing else to do."
"It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. Iread nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. Thelatter is always instructive. But if you have followed recentevents so closely you must have read about Lord St. Simon and hiswedding?"
"Oh, yes, with the deepest interest."
"That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from LordSt. Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turnover these papers and let me have whatever bears upon the matter.This is what he says:
"'MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES:--Lord Backwater tells me that Imay place implicit reliance upon your judgment and discretion. Ihave determined, therefore, to call upon you and to consult youin reference to the very painful event which has occurred inconnection with my wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, isacting already in the matter, but he assures me that he sees noobjection to your co-operation, and that he even thinks thatit might be of some assistance. I will call at four o'clock inthe afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement at thattime, I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is ofparamount importance. Yours faithfully, ST. SIMON.'
"It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen,and the noble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of inkupon the outer side of his right little finger," remarked Holmesas he folded up the epistle.
"He says four o'clock. It is three now. He will be here in anhour."
"Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear uponthe subject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts intheir order of time, while I take a glance as to who our clientis." He picked a red-covered volume from a line of books ofreference beside the mantelpiece. "Here he is," said he, sittingdown and flattening it out upon his knee. "'Lord Robert Walsinghamde Vere St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral.' Hum! 'Arms:Azure, three caltrops in chief over a fess sable. Born in 1846.'He's forty-one years of age, which is mature for marriage. WasUnder-Secretary for the colonies in a late administration. TheDuke, his father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs.They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct descent, and Tudor onthe distaff side. Ha! Well, there is nothing very instructive inall this. I think that I must turn to you Watson, for somethingmore solid."
"I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I,"for the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me asremarkable. I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knewthat you had an inquiry on hand and that you disliked theintrusion of other matters."
"Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Squarefurniture van. That is quite cleared up now--though, indeed, itwas obvious from the first. Pray give me the results of yournewspaper selections."
"Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personalcolumn of the Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeksback: 'A marriage has been arranged,' it says, 'and will, ifrumour is correct, very shortly take place, between Lord RobertSt. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss HattyDoran, the only daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq., of SanFrancisco, Cal., U.S.A.' That is all."
"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his long,thin legs towards the fire.
"There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the societypapers of the same week. Ah, here it is: 'There will soon be acall for protection in the marriage market, for the presentfree-trade principle appears to tell heavily against our homeproduct. One by one the management of the noble houses of GreatBritain is passing into the hands of our fair cousins from acrossthe Atlantic. An important addition has been made during the lastweek to the list of the prizes which have been borne away bythese charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shown himselffor over twenty years proof against the little god's arrows, hasnow definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss HattyDoran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire. MissDoran, whose graceful figure and striking face attracted muchattention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only child,and it is currently reported that her dowry will run toconsiderably over the six figures, with expectancies for thefuture. As it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral hasbeen compelled to sell his pictures within the last few years,and as Lord St. Simon has no property of his own save the smallestate of Birchmoor, it is obvious that the Californian heiressis not the only gainer by an alliance which will enable her tomake the easy and common transition from a Republican lady to aBritish peeress.'"
"Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning.
"Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the Morning Postto say that the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that itwould be at St. George's, Hanover Square, that only half a dozenintimate friends would be invited, and that the party wouldreturn to the furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has beentaken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days later--that is, onWednesday last--there is a curt announcement that the wedding hadtaken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at LordBackwater's place, near Petersfield. Those are all the noticeswhich appeared before the disappearance of the bride."
"Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start.
"The vanishing of the lady."
"When did she vanish, then?"
"At the wedding breakfast."
"Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quitedramatic, in fact."
"Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common."
"They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally duringthe honeymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite so promptas this. Pray let me have the details."
"I warn you that they are very incomplete."
&nbs
p; "Perhaps we may make them less so."
"Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of amorning paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It isheaded, 'Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding':
"'The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into thegreatest consternation by the strange and painful episodes whichhave taken place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony, asshortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on theprevious morning; but it is only now that it has been possible toconfirm the strange rumours which have been so persistentlyfloating about. In spite of the attempts of the friends to hushthe matter up, so much public attention has now been drawn to itthat no good purpose can be served by affecting to disregard whatis a common subject for conversation.
"'The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, HanoverSquare, was a very quiet one, no one being present save thefather of the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral,Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (theyounger brother and sister of the bridegroom), and Lady AliciaWhittington. The whole party proceeded afterwards to the house ofMr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had beenprepared. It appears that some little trouble was caused by awoman, whose name has not been ascertained, who endeavoured toforce her way into the house after the bridal party, allegingthat she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only after apainful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the butlerand the footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the housebefore this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfastwith the rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition andretired to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused somecomment, her father followed her, but learned from her maid thatshe had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up anulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of thefootmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the house thusapparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his mistress,believing her to be with the company. On ascertaining that hisdaughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius Doran, in conjunction withthe bridegroom, instantly put themselves in communication withthe police, and very energetic inquiries are being made, whichwill probably result in a speedy clearing up of this verysingular business. Up to a late hour last night, however, nothinghad transpired as to the whereabouts of the missing lady. Thereare rumours of foul play in the matter, and it is said that thepolice have caused the arrest of the woman who had caused theoriginal disturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or someother motive, she may have been concerned in the strangedisappearance of the bride.'"
"And is that all?"
"Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it isa suggestive one."
"And it is--"
"That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance,has actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly adanseuse at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroomfor some years. There are no further particulars, and the wholecase is in your hands now--so far as it has been set forth in thepublic press."
"And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I wouldnot have missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell,Watson, and as the clock makes it a few minutes after four, Ihave no doubt that this will prove to be our noble client. Do notdream of going, Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness,if only as a check to my own memory."
"Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our page-boy, throwing openthe door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face,high-nosed and pale, with something perhaps of petulance aboutthe mouth, and with the steady, well-opened eye of a man whosepleasant lot it had ever been to command and to be obeyed. Hismanner was brisk, and yet his general appearance gave an undueimpression of age, for he had a slight forward stoop and a littlebend of the knees as he walked. His hair, too, as he swept offhis very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled round the edges and thinupon the top. As to his dress, it was careful to the verge offoppishness, with high collar, black frock-coat, white waistcoat,yellow gloves, patent-leather shoes, and light-coloured gaiters.He advanced slowly into the room, turning his head from left toright, and swinging in his right hand the cord which held hisgolden eyeglasses.
"Good-day, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes, rising and bowing. "Praytake the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr.Watson. Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk thismatter over."
"A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine,Mr. Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that youhave already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir,though I presume that they were hardly from the same class ofsociety."
"No, I am descending."
"I beg pardon."
"My last client of the sort was a king."
"Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king?"
"The King of Scandinavia."
"What! Had he lost his wife?"
"You can understand," said Holmes suavely, "that I extend to theaffairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise toyou in yours."
"Of course! Very right! very right! I'm sure I beg pardon. As tomy own case, I am ready to give you any information which mayassist you in forming an opinion."
"Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the publicprints, nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct--thisarticle, for example, as to the disappearance of the bride."
Lord St. Simon glanced over it. "Yes, it is correct, as far as itgoes."
"But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone couldoffer an opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts mostdirectly by questioning you."
"Pray do so."
"When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?"
"In San Francisco, a year ago."
"You were travelling in the States?"
"Yes."
"Did you become engaged then?"
"No."
"But you were on a friendly footing?"
"I was amused by her society, and she could see that I wasamused."
"Her father is very rich?"
"He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope."
"And how did he make his money?"
"In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold,invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds."
"Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady's--yourwife's character?"
The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared downinto the fire. "You see, Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife wastwenty before her father became a rich man. During that time sheran free in a mining camp and wandered through woods ormountains, so that her education has come from Nature rather thanfrom the schoolmaster. She is what we call in England a tomboy,with a strong nature, wild and free, unfettered by any sort oftraditions. She is impetuous--volcanic, I was about to say. Sheis swift in making up her mind and fearless in carrying out herresolutions. On the other hand, I would not have given her thename which I have the honour to bear"--he gave a little statelycough--"had not I thought her to be at bottom a noble woman. Ibelieve that she is capable of heroic self-sacrifice and thatanything dishonourable would be repugnant to her."
"Have you her photograph?"
"I brought this with me." He opened a locket and showed us thefull face of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but anivory miniature, and the artist had brought out the full effectof the lustrous black hair, the large dark eyes, and theexquisite mouth. Holmes gazed long and earnestly at it. Then heclosed the locket and handed it back to Lord St. Simon.
"The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed youracquaintance?"
"Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. Imet her several times, became engaged to her, and have nowmarried her."
"She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry?"
"A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family."
"And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is afait accompli?"
"I really have made no inquiries o
n the subject."
"Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before thewedding?"
"Yes."
"Was she in good spirits?"
"Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in ourfuture lives."
"Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of thewedding?"
"She was as bright as possible--at least until after theceremony."
"And did you observe any change in her then?"
"Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I hadever seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incidenthowever, was too trivial to relate and can have no possiblebearing upon the case."
"Pray let us have it, for all that."
"Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towardsthe vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and itfell over into the pew. There was a moment's delay, but thegentleman in the pew handed it up to her again, and it did notappear to be the worse for the fall. Yet when I spoke to her ofthe matter, she answered me abruptly; and in the carriage, on ourway home, she seemed absurdly agitated over this trifling cause."
"Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some ofthe general public were present, then?"
"Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church isopen."
"This gentleman was not one of your wife's friends?"
"No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite acommon-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. Butreally I think that we are wandering rather far from the point."
"Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a lesscheerful frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she doon re-entering her father's house?"
"I saw her in conversation with her maid."
"And who is her maid?"
"Alice is her name. She is an American and came from Californiawith her."
"A confidential servant?"
"A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowedher to take great liberties. Still, of course, in America theylook upon these things in a different way."
"How long did she speak to this Alice?"
"Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of."
"You did not overhear what they said?"
"Lady St. Simon said something about 'jumping a claim.' She wasaccustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what shemeant."
"American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did yourwife do when she finished speaking to her maid?"
"She walked into the breakfast-room."
"On your arm?"
"No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that.Then, after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rosehurriedly, muttered some words of apology, and left the room. Shenever came back."
"But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went toher room, covered her bride's dress with a long ulster, put on abonnet, and went out."
"Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park incompany with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and whohad already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran's house thatmorning."
"Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady,and your relations to her."
Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows."We have been on a friendly footing for some years--I may say ona very friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I havenot treated her ungenerously, and she had no just cause ofcomplaint against me, but you know what women are, Mr. Holmes.Flora was a dear little thing, but exceedingly hot-headed anddevotedly attached to me. She wrote me dreadful letters when sheheard that I was about to be married, and, to tell the truth, thereason why I had the marriage celebrated so quietly was that Ifeared lest there might be a scandal in the church. She came toMr. Doran's door just after we returned, and she endeavoured topush her way in, uttering very abusive expressions towards mywife, and even threatening her, but I had foreseen thepossibility of something of the sort, and I had two policefellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out again.She was quiet when she saw that there was no good in making arow."
"Did your wife hear all this?"
"No, thank goodness, she did not."
"And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards?"
"Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon asso serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laidsome terrible trap for her."
"Well, it is a possible supposition."
"You think so, too?"
"I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look uponthis as likely?"
"I do not think Flora would hurt a fly."
"Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Praywhat is your own theory as to what took place?"
"Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. Ihave given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I maysay that it has occurred to me as possible that the excitement ofthis affair, the consciousness that she had made so immense asocial stride, had the effect of causing some little nervousdisturbance in my wife."
"In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?"
"Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back--Iwill not say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired towithout success--I can hardly explain it in any other fashion."
"Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis," saidHolmes, smiling. "And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I havenearly all my data. May I ask whether you were seated at thebreakfast-table so that you could see out of the window?"
"We could see the other side of the road and the Park."
"Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer.I shall communicate with you."
"Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem," said ourclient, rising.
"I have solved it."
"Eh? What was that?"
"I say that I have solved it."
"Where, then, is my wife?"
"That is a detail which I shall speedily supply."
Lord St. Simon shook his head. "I am afraid that it will takewiser heads than yours or mine," he remarked, and bowing in astately, old-fashioned manner he departed.
"It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by puttingit on a level with his own," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "Ithink that I shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after allthis cross-questioning. I had formed my conclusions as to thecase before our client came into the room."
"My dear Holmes!"
"I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as Iremarked before, which were quite as prompt. My whole examinationserved to turn my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantialevidence is occasionally very convincing, as when you find atrout in the milk, to quote Thoreau's example."
"But I have heard all that you have heard."
"Without, however, the knowledge of pre-existing cases whichserves me so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen someyears back, and something on very much the same lines at Munichthe year after the Franco-Prussian War. It is one of thesecases--but, hullo, here is Lestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade!You will find an extra tumbler upon the sideboard, and there arecigars in the box."
The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat,which gave him a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried ablack canvas bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seatedhimself and lit the cigar which had been offered to him.
"What's up, then?" asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. "Youlook dissatisfied."
"And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriagecase. I can make neither head nor tail of the business."
"Really! You surprise me."
"Who ever heard of such a mixed affair? Every clue seems to slipthrough my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day."
"And very wet it seems to have made you," said Holmes laying hishand upon the arm of the pea-jacket.
"Yes, I have been dragging the Serpen
tine."
"In heaven's name, what for?"
"In search of the body of Lady St. Simon."
Sherlock Holmes leaned back in his chair and laughed heartily.
"Have you dragged the basin of Trafalgar Square fountain?" heasked.
"Why? What do you mean?"
"Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady inthe one as in the other."
Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. "I suppose youknow all about it," he snarled.
"Well, I have only just heard the facts, but my mind is made up."
"Oh, indeed! Then you think that the Serpentine plays no part inthe matter?"
"I think it very unlikely."
"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we foundthis in it?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto thefloor a wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satinshoes and a bride's wreath and veil, all discoloured and soakedin water. "There," said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon thetop of the pile. "There is a little nut for you to crack, MasterHolmes."
"Oh, indeed!" said my friend, blowing blue rings into the air."You dragged them from the Serpentine?"
"No. They were found floating near the margin by a park-keeper.They have been identified as her clothes, and it seemed to methat if the clothes were there the body would not be far off."
"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be foundin the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hopeto arrive at through this?"
"At some evidence implicating Flora Millar in the disappearance."
"I am afraid that you will find it difficult."
"Are you, indeed, now?" cried Lestrade with some bitterness. "Iam afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with yourdeductions and your inferences. You have made two blunders in asmany minutes. This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar."
"And how?"
"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In thecard-case is a note. And here is the very note." He slapped itdown upon the table in front of him. "Listen to this: 'You willsee me when all is ready. Come at once. F.H.M.' Now my theory allalong has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away by FloraMillar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, wasresponsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with herinitials, is the very note which was no doubt quietly slippedinto her hand at the door and which lured her within theirreach."
"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really arevery fine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in alistless way, but his attention instantly became riveted, and hegave a little cry of satisfaction. "This is indeed important,"said he.
"Ha! you find it so?"
"Extremely so. I congratulate you warmly."
Lestrade rose in his triumph and bent his head to look. "Why," heshrieked, "you're looking at the wrong side!"
"On the contrary, this is the right side."
"The right side? You're mad! Here is the note written in pencilover here."
"And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotelbill, which interests me deeply."
"There's nothing in it. I looked at it before," said Lestrade."'Oct. 4th, rooms 8s., breakfast 2s. 6d., cocktail 1s., lunch 2s.6d., glass sherry, 8d.' I see nothing in that."
"Very likely not. It is most important, all the same. As to thenote, it is important also, or at least the initials are, so Icongratulate you again."
"I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe inhard work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories.Good-day, Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottomof the matter first." He gathered up the garments, thrust theminto the bag, and made for the door.
"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rivalvanished; "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. LadySt. Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, anysuch person."
Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me,tapped his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, andhurried away.
He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put onhis overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says aboutoutdoor work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I mustleave you to your papers for a little."
It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I hadno time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived aconfectioner's man with a very large flat box. This he unpackedwith the help of a youth whom he had brought with him, andpresently, to my very great astonishment, a quite epicureanlittle cold supper began to be laid out upon our humblelodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of brace of coldwoodcock, a pheasant, a pate de foie gras pie with a group ofancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries,my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the ArabianNights, with no explanation save that the things had been paidfor and were ordered to this address.
Just before nine o'clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into theroom. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in hiseye which made me think that he had not been disappointed in hisconclusions.
"They have laid the supper, then," he said, rubbing his hands.
"You seem to expect company. They have laid for five."
"Yes, I fancy we may have some company dropping in," said he. "Iam surprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! Ifancy that I hear his step now upon the stairs."
It was indeed our visitor of the afternoon who came bustling in,dangling his glasses more vigorously than ever, and with a veryperturbed expression upon his aristocratic features.
"My messenger reached you, then?" asked Holmes.
"Yes, and I confess that the contents startled me beyond measure.Have you good authority for what you say?"
"The best possible."
Lord St. Simon sank into a chair and passed his hand over hisforehead.
"What will the Duke say," he murmured, "when he hears that one ofthe family has been subjected to such humiliation?"
"It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is anyhumiliation."
"Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint."
"I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how thelady could have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method ofdoing it was undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, shehad no one to advise her at such a crisis."
"It was a slight, sir, a public slight," said Lord St. Simon,tapping his fingers upon the table.
"You must make allowance for this poor girl, placed in sounprecedented a position."
"I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I havebeen shamefully used."
"I think that I heard a ring," said Holmes. "Yes, there are stepson the landing. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient viewof the matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate herewho may be more successful." He opened the door and ushered in alady and gentleman. "Lord St. Simon," said he "allow me tointroduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, Ithink, you have already met."
At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from hisseat and stood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his handthrust into the breast of his frock-coat, a picture of offendeddignity. The lady had taken a quick step forward and had held outher hand to him, but he still refused to raise his eyes. It wasas well for his resolution, perhaps, for her pleading face wasone which it was hard to resist.
"You're angry, Robert," said she. "Well, I guess you have everycause to be."
"Pray make no apology to me," said Lord St. Simon bitterly.
"Oh, yes, I know that I have treated you real bad and that Ishould have spoken to you before I went; but I was kind ofrattled, and from the time when I saw Frank here again I justdidn't know what I was doing or saying. I only wonder I didn'tfall down and do a faint right there before the altar."
"Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leavethe room while you explain this matter?"
"If I may give an opinion," remarked the
strange gentleman,"we've had just a little too much secrecy over this businessalready. For my part, I should like all Europe and America tohear the rights of it." He was a small, wiry, sunburnt man,clean-shaven, with a sharp face and alert manner.
"Then I'll tell our story right away," said the lady. "Frank hereand I met in '84, in McQuire's camp, near the Rockies, where pawas working a claim. We were engaged to each other, Frank and I;but then one day father struck a rich pocket and made a pile,while poor Frank here had a claim that petered out and came tonothing. The richer pa grew the poorer was Frank; so at last pawouldn't hear of our engagement lasting any longer, and he tookme away to 'Frisco. Frank wouldn't throw up his hand, though; sohe followed me there, and he saw me without pa knowing anythingabout it. It would only have made him mad to know, so we justfixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that he would go andmake his pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he hadas much as pa. So then I promised to wait for him to the end oftime and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he lived.'Why shouldn't we be married right away, then,' said he, 'andthen I will feel sure of you; and I won't claim to be yourhusband until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, and he hadfixed it all up so nicely, with a clergyman all ready in waiting,that we just did it right there; and then Frank went off to seekhis fortune, and I went back to pa.
"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and thenhe went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from NewMexico. After that came a long newspaper story about how aminers' camp had been attacked by Apache Indians, and there wasmy Frank's name among the killed. I fainted dead away, and I wasvery sick for months after. Pa thought I had a decline and tookme to half the doctors in 'Frisco. Not a word of news came for ayear and more, so that I never doubted that Frank was reallydead. Then Lord St. Simon came to 'Frisco, and we came to London,and a marriage was arranged, and pa was very pleased, but I feltall the time that no man on this earth would ever take the placein my heart that had been given to my poor Frank.
"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have donemy duty by him. We can't command our love, but we can ouractions. I went to the altar with him with the intention to makehim just as good a wife as it was in me to be. But you mayimagine what I felt when, just as I came to the altar rails, Iglanced back and saw Frank standing and looking at me out of thefirst pew. I thought it was his ghost at first; but when I lookedagain there he was still, with a kind of question in his eyes, asif to ask me whether I were glad or sorry to see him. I wonder Ididn't drop. I know that everything was turning round, and thewords of the clergyman were just like the buzz of a bee in myear. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop the service and makea scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and he seemed toknow what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his lips totell me to be still. Then I saw him scribble on a piece of paper,and I knew that he was writing me a note. As I passed his pew onthe way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped thenote into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only aline asking me to join him when he made the sign to me to do so.Of course I never doubted for a moment that my first duty was nowto him, and I determined to do just whatever he might direct.
"When I got back I told my maid, who had known him in California,and had always been his friend. I ordered her to say nothing, butto get a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought tohave spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard beforehis mother and all those great people. I just made up my mind torun away and explain afterwards. I hadn't been at the table tenminutes before I saw Frank out of the window at the other side ofthe road. He beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park.I slipped out, put on my things, and followed him. Some womancame talking something or other about Lord St. Simon tome--seemed to me from the little I heard as if he had a littlesecret of his own before marriage also--but I managed to get awayfrom her and soon overtook Frank. We got into a cab together, andaway we drove to some lodgings he had taken in Gordon Square, andthat was my true wedding after all those years of waiting. Frankhad been a prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, came on to'Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead and had gone toEngland, followed me there, and had come upon me at last on thevery morning of my second wedding."
"I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the nameand the church but not where the lady lived."
"Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was allfor openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if Ishould like to vanish away and never see any of them again--justsending a line to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. Itwas awful to me to think of all those lords and ladies sittinground that breakfast-table and waiting for me to come back. SoFrank took my wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle ofthem, so that I should not be traced, and dropped them awaysomewhere where no one could find them. It is likely that weshould have gone on to Paris to-morrow, only that this goodgentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to us this evening, though howhe found us is more than I can think, and he showed us veryclearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank was right, andthat we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we were sosecret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to LordSt. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms atonce. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry ifI have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think verymeanly of me."
Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, buthad listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to thislong narrative.
"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my mostintimate personal affairs in this public manner."
"Then you won't forgive me? You won't shake hands before I go?"
"Oh, certainly, if it would give you any pleasure." He put outhis hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him.
"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined usin a friendly supper."
"I think that there you ask a little too much," responded hisLordship. "I may be forced to acquiesce in these recentdevelopments, but I can hardly be expected to make merry overthem. I think that with your permission I will now wish you all avery good-night." He included us all in a sweeping bow andstalked out of the room.
"Then I trust that you at least will honour me with yourcompany," said Sherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet anAmerican, Mr. Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that thefolly of a monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-goneyears will not prevent our children from being some day citizensof the same world-wide country under a flag which shall be aquartering of the Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes."
"The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when ourvisitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly howsimple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sightseems to be almost inexplicable. Nothing could be more naturalthan the sequence of events as narrated by this lady, and nothingstranger than the result when viewed, for instance, by Mr.Lestrade of Scotland Yard."
"You were not yourself at fault at all, then?"
"From the first, two facts were very obvious to me, the one thatthe lady had been quite willing to undergo the wedding ceremony,the other that she had repented of it within a few minutes ofreturning home. Obviously something had occurred during themorning, then, to cause her to change her mind. What could thatsomething be? She could not have spoken to anyone when she wasout, for she had been in the company of the bridegroom. Had sheseen someone, then? If she had, it must be someone from Americabecause she had spent so short a time in this country that shecould hardly have allowed anyone to acquire so deep an influenceover her that the mere sight of him would induce her to changeher plans so completely. You see we have already arrived, by aprocess of exclusion, at the idea that she might have seen anAmerican. Then who could this American be, and why should hepossess so much influence over her? It might be a lover; it mightbe a husband. Her young womanhood had, I knew, been spent inrough s
cenes and under strange conditions. So far I had gotbefore I ever heard Lord St. Simon's narrative. When he told usof a man in a pew, of the change in the bride's manner, of sotransparent a device for obtaining a note as the dropping of abouquet, of her resort to her confidential maid, and of her verysignificant allusion to claim-jumping--which in miners' parlancemeans taking possession of that which another person has a priorclaim to--the whole situation became absolutely clear. She hadgone off with a man, and the man was either a lover or was aprevious husband--the chances being in favour of the latter."
"And how in the world did you find them?"
"It might have been difficult, but friend Lestrade heldinformation in his hands the value of which he did not himselfknow. The initials were, of course, of the highest importance,but more valuable still was it to know that within a week he hadsettled his bill at one of the most select London hotels."
"How did you deduce the select?"
"By the select prices. Eight shillings for a bed and eightpencefor a glass of sherry pointed to one of the most expensivehotels. There are not many in London which charge at that rate.In the second one which I visited in Northumberland Avenue, Ilearned by an inspection of the book that Francis H. Moulton, anAmerican gentleman, had left only the day before, and on lookingover the entries against him, I came upon the very items which Ihad seen in the duplicate bill. His letters were to be forwardedto 226 Gordon Square; so thither I travelled, and being fortunateenough to find the loving couple at home, I ventured to give themsome paternal advice and to point out to them that it would bebetter in every way that they should make their position a littleclearer both to the general public and to Lord St. Simon inparticular. I invited them to meet him here, and, as you see, Imade him keep the appointment."
"But with no very good result," I remarked. "His conduct wascertainly not very gracious."
"Ah, Watson," said Holmes, smiling, "perhaps you would not bevery gracious either, if, after all the trouble of wooing andwedding, you found yourself deprived in an instant of wife and offortune. I think that we may judge Lord St. Simon very mercifullyand thank our stars that we are never likely to find ourselves inthe same position. Draw your chair up and hand me my violin, forthe only problem we have still to solve is how to while awaythese bleak autumnal evenings."
The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes Page 10
