The Adventures and Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes (28 page)

‘No, I never heard of her using it. We used always to get what we wanted 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 to this floor.' He threw himself down upon his face with his lens in his hand, and crawled swiftly backwards and forwards, examining minutely the cracks between the boards. Then he did the same with the woodwork with which the chamber was panelled. Finally he walked over to the bed and spent some time in staring at it, and in running his eye up
and down the wall. Finally he took the bell-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 where the little opening of the ventilator is.'

‘How very absurd! I never noticed that before.'

‘Very strange!' muttered Holmes, pulling at the rope. ‘There are one or two very singular points about this room. For example, what a fool a builder must be to open a ventilator in another room, when, with the same trouble, he might have communicated with 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 that time.'

‘They seem to have been of a most interesting character – dummy bell-ropes, and ventilators which do not ventilate. With your permission, Miss Stoner, we shall now carry our researches into the inner apartment.'

Dr Grimesby Roylott's chamber was larger than that of his stepdaughter, but was as plainly furnished. A camp bed, a small wooden shelf full of books, mostly of a technical character, an armchair beside the bed, a plain wooden chair against the wall, a round table, and a large iron safe were the principal things which met the eye. Holmes walked slowly round and examined each and 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 of papers.'

‘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 which stood 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 a saucer of milk does not go very far in satisfying its wants, I dare say. There is
one point which I should wish to determine.' He squatted down in front of the wooden chair, and examined the seat of it with the greatest attention.

‘Thank you. That is quite settled,' said he, rising and putting his lens in his pocket. ‘Hello! here is something interesting!'

The object which had caught his eye was a small dog lash hung on one corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled upon itself, and 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 be tied.'

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

I had never seen my friend's face so grim, or his brow so dark, as it was when we turned from the scene of his investigation. We had walked several times up and down the lawn, neither Miss Stoner nor myself liking to break in upon his thoughts before he roused himself from his reverie.

‘It is very essential, Miss Stoner,' said he, ‘that you should absolutely follow my advice in every respect.'

‘I shall most certainly do so.'

‘The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may depend 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 in your room.'

Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment.

‘Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the village inn over there.'

‘Yes, that is the Crown.'

‘Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?'

‘Certainly.'

‘You must confine yourself in your room, on pretence of a headache, when your stepfather comes back. Then when you hear him retire for the night, you must open the shutters of your window, undo
the hasp, put your lamp there as a signal to us, and then withdraw with everything which you are likely to want into the room which you used to occupy. I have no doubt that, in spite 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 investigate the 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's death.'

‘I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak.'

‘You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct, and if she died from some sudden fright.'

‘No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some more tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you, for if Dr 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 dangers that threaten you.'

Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bedroom and sitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper floor, and from our window we could command a view of the avenue gate, and of the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor House. At dusk we saw Dr Grimesby Roylott drive past, his huge form looming up beside the little figure of the lad who drove him. The boy had some slight difficulty in undoing the heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of the doctor's voice, and saw the fury with which he shook his clenched fists at him. The trap drove on, and a few minutes later we saw a sudden light spring up among the trees as the lamp was lit in one of the sitting-rooms.

‘Do you know, Watson,' said Holmes, as we sat together in the gathering darkness, ‘I have really some scruples as to taking you tonight. 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 rooms than was visible to me.'

‘No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I imagine that you saw all that I did.'

‘I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose that 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 to have a small opening between two rooms. It was so small a rat could hardly pass through.'

‘I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came to Stoke Moran.'

‘My dear Holmes!'

‘Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that her sister could smell Dr Roylott's cigar. Now, of course that suggests at once that there must be a communication between the two rooms. It could only be a small one, or it would have been remarked 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. A ventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the bed 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 fastened like that before?'

‘I cannot say that I have.'

‘The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the same relative position to the ventilator and to the rope – for so we may call it, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull.'

‘Holmes,' I cried, ‘I seem to see dimly what you are hinting at. We are only just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible crime.'

‘Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go wrong he is the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has knowledge. Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of their profession.
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This man strikes even deeper, but, I think, Watson, that we shall be able to strike deeper still. But we shall have horrors enough before the night is over: for goodness' sake let us have a quiet pipe, and turn our minds for a few hours to something more cheerful.'

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

‘That is our signal,' said Holmes, springing to his feet; ‘it comes 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. A moment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing in our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us through the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.

There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unrepaired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way among the trees, we reached the lawn, crossedit, and were about to enter through the window, when out from a clump of laurel bushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted child, who threw itself on the grass with writhing limbs, and then 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 like a vice upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low laugh, 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. There was a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders at any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when, after following Holmes's example and slipping off my shoes, I found myself inside the bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed the shutters,
moved the lamp on to the table, and cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had seen it in the day-time. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, he whispered into my ear again so gently that it was all that I could do to distinguish the words:

‘The least sound would be fatal to our plans.'

I nodded to show that I had heard.

‘We must sit without a light. He would see it through the ventilator.'

I nodded again.

‘Do not go to sleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of the 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 upon the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the stump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp and we were left in darkness.

How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my companion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same state of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut off the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness. From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at our very window a long drawn, cat-like whine, which told us that the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter of an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve o'clock, and one, and two, and three, and still we sat waiting silently for whatever might befall.

Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the direction of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was succeeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal. Someone in the next room had lit a dark lantern. I heard a gentle sound of movement, and then all was silent once more, though the smell 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 escaping continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with his 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 I heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was at which my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his face was deadly pale, and filled with horror and loathing.

He had ceased to strike, and was gazing up at the ventilator, when suddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it had died away into the silence from which it rose.

‘What can it mean?' I gasped.