THE ADVENTURES OF SHERLOCK HOLMES by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE 19 page

Date: 2015-10-07; view: 335.

"Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of the

wedding?"

"She was as bright as possible--at least until after the

ceremony."

"And did you observe any change in her then?"

"Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had

ever seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incident

however, was too trivial to relate and can have no possible

bearing upon the case."

"Pray let us have it, for all that."

"Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards

the vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it

fell over into the pew. There was a moment's delay, but the

gentleman in the pew handed it up to her again, and it did not

appear to be the worse for the fall. Yet when I spoke to her of

the matter, she answered me abruptly; and in the carriage, on our

way home, she seemed absurdly agitated over this trifling cause."

"Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of

the general public were present, then?"

"Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is

open."

"This gentleman was not one of your wife's friends?"

"No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite a

common-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But

really I think that we are wandering rather far from the point."

"Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less

cheerful frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do

on 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 California

with her."

"A confidential servant?"

"A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed

her to take great liberties. Still, of course, in America they

look 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 was

accustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she

meant."

"American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your

wife 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 rose

hurriedly, muttered some words of apology, and left the room. She

never came back."

"But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to

her room, covered her bride's dress with a long ulster, put on a

bonnet, and went out."

"Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park in

company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who

had already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran's house that

morning."

"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 on

a very friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have

not treated her ungenerously, and she had no just cause of

complaint against me, but you know what women are, Mr. Holmes.

Flora was a dear little thing, but exceedingly hot-headed and

devotedly attached to me. She wrote me dreadful letters when she

heard that I was about to be married, and, to tell the truth, the

reason why I had the marriage celebrated so quietly was that I

feared lest there might be a scandal in the church. She came to

Mr. Doran's door just after we returned, and she endeavoured to

push her way in, uttering very abusive expressions towards my

wife, and even threatening her, but I had foreseen the

possibility of something of the sort, and I had two police

fellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out again.

She was quiet when she saw that there was no good in making a

row."

"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 as

so serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid

some 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 upon

this as likely?"

"I do not think Flora would hurt a fly."

"Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray

what is your own theory as to what took place?"

"Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I

have given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may

say that it has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of

this affair, the consciousness that she had made so immense a

social stride, had the effect of causing some little nervous

disturbance in my wife."

"In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?"

"Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back--I

will not say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to

without success--I can hardly explain it in any other fashion."

"Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis," said

Holmes, smiling. "And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have

nearly all my data. May I ask whether you were seated at the

breakfast-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 our

client, 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 take

wiser heads than yours or mine," he remarked, and bowing in a

stately, old-fashioned manner he departed.

"It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting

it on a level with his own," said Sherlock Holmes, laughing. "I

think that I shall have a whisky and soda and a cigar after all

this cross-questioning. I had formed my conclusions as to the

case before our client came into the room."

"My dear Holmes!"

"I have notes of several similar cases, though none, as I

remarked before, which were quite as prompt. My whole examination

served to turn my conjecture into a certainty. Circumstantial

evidence is occasionally very convincing, as when you find a

trout 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 which

serves me so well. There was a parallel instance in Aberdeen some

years back, and something on very much the same lines at Munich

the year after the Franco-Prussian War. It is one of these

cases--but, hullo, here is Lestrade! Good-afternoon, Lestrade!

You will find an extra tumbler upon the sideboard, and there are

cigars in the box."

The official detective was attired in a pea-jacket and cravat,

which gave him a decidedly nautical appearance, and he carried a

black canvas bag in his hand. With a short greeting he seated

himself and lit the cigar which had been offered to him.

"What's up, then?" asked Holmes with a twinkle in his eye. "You

look dissatisfied."

"And I feel dissatisfied. It is this infernal St. Simon marriage

case. 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 slip

through my fingers. I have been at work upon it all day."

"And very wet it seems to have made you," said Holmes laying his

hand upon the arm of the pea-jacket.

"Yes, I have been dragging the Serpentine."

"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?" he

asked.

"Why? What do you mean?"

"Because you have just as good a chance of finding this lady in

the one as in the other."

Lestrade shot an angry glance at my companion. "I suppose you

know 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 in

the matter?"

"I think it very unlikely."

"Then perhaps you will kindly explain how it is that we found

this in it?" He opened his bag as he spoke, and tumbled onto the

floor a wedding-dress of watered silk, a pair of white satin

shoes and a bride's wreath and veil, all discoloured and soaked

in water. "There," said he, putting a new wedding-ring upon the

top of the pile. "There is a little nut for you to crack, Master

Holmes."

"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 me

that if the clothes were there the body would not be far off."

"By the same brilliant reasoning, every man's body is to be found

in the neighbourhood of his wardrobe. And pray what did you hope

to 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. "I

am afraid, Holmes, that you are not very practical with your

deductions and your inferences. You have made two blunders in as

many minutes. This dress does implicate Miss Flora Millar."

"And how?"

"In the dress is a pocket. In the pocket is a card-case. In the

card-case is a note. And here is the very note." He slapped it

down upon the table in front of him. "Listen to this: 'You will

see me when all is ready. Come at once. F.H.M.' Now my theory all

along has been that Lady St. Simon was decoyed away by Flora

Millar, and that she, with confederates, no doubt, was

responsible for her disappearance. Here, signed with her

initials, is the very note which was no doubt quietly slipped

into her hand at the door and which lured her within their

reach."

"Very good, Lestrade," said Holmes, laughing. "You really are

very fine indeed. Let me see it." He took up the paper in a

listless way, but his attention instantly became riveted, and he

gave 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," he

shrieked, "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 pencil

over here."

"And over here is what appears to be the fragment of a hotel

bill, 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 the

note, it is important also, or at least the initials are, so I

congratulate you again."

"I've wasted time enough," said Lestrade, rising. "I believe in

hard work and not in sitting by the fire spinning fine theories.

Good-day, Mr. Holmes, and we shall see which gets to the bottom

of the matter first." He gathered up the garments, thrust them

into the bag, and made for the door.

"Just one hint to you, Lestrade," drawled Holmes before his rival

vanished; "I will tell you the true solution of the matter. Lady

St. Simon is a myth. There is not, and there never has been, any

such person."

Lestrade looked sadly at my companion. Then he turned to me,

tapped his forehead three times, shook his head solemnly, and

hurried away.

He had hardly shut the door behind him when Holmes rose to put on

his overcoat. "There is something in what the fellow says about

outdoor work," he remarked, "so I think, Watson, that I must

leave you to your papers for a little."

It was after five o'clock when Sherlock Holmes left me, but I had

no time to be lonely, for within an hour there arrived a

confectioner's man with a very large flat box. This he unpacked

with the help of a youth whom he had brought with him, and

presently, to my very great astonishment, a quite epicurean

little cold supper began to be laid out upon our humble

lodging-house mahogany. There were a couple of brace of cold

woodcock, a pheasant, a pвtй de foie gras pie with a group of

ancient and cobwebby bottles. Having laid out all these luxuries,

my two visitors vanished away, like the genii of the Arabian

Nights, with no explanation save that the things had been paid

for and were ordered to this address.

Just before nine o'clock Sherlock Holmes stepped briskly into the

room. His features were gravely set, but there was a light in his

eye which made me think that he had not been disappointed in his

conclusions.

"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. "I

am surprised that Lord St. Simon has not already arrived. Ha! I

fancy 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 very

perturbed 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 his

forehead.

"What will the Duke say," he murmured, "when he hears that one of

the family has been subjected to such humiliation?"

"It is the purest accident. I cannot allow that there is any

humiliation."

"Ah, you look on these things from another standpoint."

"I fail to see that anyone is to blame. I can hardly see how the

lady could have acted otherwise, though her abrupt method of

doing it was undoubtedly to be regretted. Having no mother, she

had 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 so

unprecedented a position."

"I will make no allowance. I am very angry indeed, and I have

been shamefully used."

"I think that I heard a ring," said Holmes. "Yes, there are steps

on the landing. If I cannot persuade you to take a lenient view

of the matter, Lord St. Simon, I have brought an advocate here

who may be more successful." He opened the door and ushered in a

lady and gentleman. "Lord St. Simon," said he "allow me to

introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Francis Hay Moulton. The lady, I

think, you have already met."

At the sight of these newcomers our client had sprung from his

seat and stood very erect, with his eyes cast down and his hand

thrust into the breast of his frock-coat, a picture of offended

dignity. The lady had taken a quick step forward and had held out

her hand to him, but he still refused to raise his eyes. It was

as well for his resolution, perhaps, for her pleading face was

one which it was hard to resist.

"You're angry, Robert," said she. "Well, I guess you have every

cause 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 I

should have spoken to you before I went; but I was kind of

rattled, and from the time when I saw Frank here again I just

didn't know what I was doing or saying. I only wonder I didn't

fall down and do a faint right there before the altar."

"Perhaps, Mrs. Moulton, you would like my friend and me to leave

the 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 business

already. For my part, I should like all Europe and America to

hear 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 here

and I met in '84, in McQuire's camp, near the Rockies, where pa

was 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 to

nothing. The richer pa grew the poorer was Frank; so at last pa

wouldn't hear of our engagement lasting any longer, and he took

me away to 'Frisco. Frank wouldn't throw up his hand, though; so

he followed me there, and he saw me without pa knowing anything

about it. It would only have made him mad to know, so we just

fixed it all up for ourselves. Frank said that he would go and

make his pile, too, and never come back to claim me until he had

as much as pa. So then I promised to wait for him to the end of

time and pledged myself not to marry anyone else while he lived.

'Why shouldn't we be married right away, then,' said he, 'and

then I will feel sure of you; and I won't claim to be your

husband until I come back?' Well, we talked it over, and he had

fixed 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 seek

his fortune, and I went back to pa.

"The next I heard of Frank was that he was in Montana, and then

he went prospecting in Arizona, and then I heard of him from New

Mexico. After that came a long newspaper story about how a

miners' camp had been attacked by Apache Indians, and there was

my Frank's name among the killed. I fainted dead away, and I was

very sick for months after. Pa thought I had a decline and took

me to half the doctors in 'Frisco. Not a word of news came for a

year and more, so that I never doubted that Frank was really

dead. Then Lord St. Simon came to 'Frisco, and we came to London,

and a marriage was arranged, and pa was very pleased, but I felt

all the time that no man on this earth would ever take the place

in my heart that had been given to my poor Frank.

"Still, if I had married Lord St. Simon, of course I'd have done

my duty by him. We can't command our love, but we can our

actions. I went to the altar with him with the intention to make

him just as good a wife as it was in me to be. But you may

imagine what I felt when, just as I came to the altar rails, I

glanced back and saw Frank standing and looking at me out of the

first pew. I thought it was his ghost at first; but when I looked

again there he was still, with a kind of question in his eyes, as

if to ask me whether I were glad or sorry to see him. I wonder I

didn't drop. I know that everything was turning round, and the

words of the clergyman were just like the buzz of a bee in my

ear. I didn't know what to do. Should I stop the service and make

a scene in the church? I glanced at him again, and he seemed to

know what I was thinking, for he raised his finger to his lips to

tell 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 on

the way out I dropped my bouquet over to him, and he slipped the

note into my hand when he returned me the flowers. It was only a

line 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 now

to 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, but

to get a few things packed and my ulster ready. I know I ought to

have spoken to Lord St. Simon, but it was dreadful hard before

his mother and all those great people. I just made up my mind to

run away and explain afterwards. I hadn't been at the table ten

minutes before I saw Frank out of the window at the other side of

the road. He beckoned to me and then began walking into the Park.

I slipped out, put on my things, and followed him. Some woman

came talking something or other about Lord St. Simon to

me--seemed to me from the little I heard as if he had a little

secret of his own before marriage also--but I managed to get away

from her and soon overtook Frank. We got into a cab together, and

away we drove to some lodgings he had taken in Gordon Square, and

that was my true wedding after all those years of waiting. Frank

had been a prisoner among the Apaches, had escaped, came on to

'Frisco, found that I had given him up for dead and had gone to

England, followed me there, and had come upon me at last on the

very morning of my second wedding."

"I saw it in a paper," explained the American. "It gave the name

and the church but not where the lady lived."

"Then we had a talk as to what we should do, and Frank was all

for openness, but I was so ashamed of it all that I felt as if I

should like to vanish away and never see any of them again--just

sending a line to pa, perhaps, to show him that I was alive. It

was awful to me to think of all those lords and ladies sitting

round that breakfast-table and waiting for me to come back. So

Frank took my wedding-clothes and things and made a bundle of

them, so that I should not be traced, and dropped them away

somewhere where no one could find them. It is likely that we

should have gone on to Paris to-morrow, only that this good

gentleman, Mr. Holmes, came round to us this evening, though how

he found us is more than I can think, and he showed us very

clearly and kindly that I was wrong and that Frank was right, and

that we should be putting ourselves in the wrong if we were so

secret. Then he offered to give us a chance of talking to Lord

St. Simon alone, and so we came right away round to his rooms at

once. Now, Robert, you have heard it all, and I am very sorry if

I have given you pain, and I hope that you do not think very

meanly of me."

Lord St. Simon had by no means relaxed his rigid attitude, but

had listened with a frowning brow and a compressed lip to this

long narrative.

"Excuse me," he said, "but it is not my custom to discuss my most

intimate 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 out

his hand and coldly grasped that which she extended to him.

"I had hoped," suggested Holmes, "that you would have joined us

in a friendly supper."

"I think that there you ask a little too much," responded his

Lordship. "I may be forced to acquiesce in these recent

developments, but I can hardly be expected to make merry over

them. I think that with your permission I will now wish you all a

very good-night." He included us all in a sweeping bow and

stalked out of the room.

"Then I trust that you at least will honour me with your

company," said Sherlock Holmes. "It is always a joy to meet an

American, Mr. Moulton, for I am one of those who believe that the

folly of a monarch and the blundering of a minister in far-gone

years will not prevent our children from being some day citizens

of the same world-wide country under a flag which shall be a

quartering of the Union Jack with the Stars and Stripes."

"The case has been an interesting one," remarked Holmes when our

visitors had left us, "because it serves to show very clearly how

simple the explanation may be of an affair which at first sight