The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of bad
language.
"By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers, I'll
serve you as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat about the girl to
your heart's content, for that's your own affair, but if you round on
your pals to this plain-clothes copper it will be the worst day's
work that ever you did."
"Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting a
cigarette. "The case is clear enough against you, and all I ask is a
few details for my private curiosity. However, if there's any
difficulty in your telling me I'll do the talking, and then you will
see how far you have a chance of holding back your secrets. In the
first place, three of you came from South Africa on this game--you
Williamson, you Carruthers, and Woodley."
"Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of them until
two months ago, and I have never been in Africa in my life, so you
can put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Busybody Holmes!"
"What he says is true," said Carruthers.
"Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our own home-made
article. You had known Ralph Smith in South Africa. You had reason to
believe he would not live long. You found out that his niece would
inherit his fortune. How's that--eh?"
Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore.
"She was next-of-kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the old
fellow would make no will."
"Couldn't read or write," said Carruthers.
"So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl. The idea
was that one of you was to marry her and the other have a share of
the plunder. For some reason Woodley was chosen as the husband. Why
was that?"
"We played cards for her on the voyage. He won."
"I see. You got the young lady into your service, and there Woodley
was to do the courting. She recognised the drunken brute that he was,
and would have nothing to do with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement
was rather upset by the fact that you had yourself fallen in love
with the lady. You could no longer bear the idea of this ruffian
owning her."
"No, by George, I couldn't!"
"There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage, and began to
make his own plans independently of you."
"It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we can tell
this gentleman," cried Carruthers, with a bitter laugh. "Yes, we
quarreled, and he knocked me down. I am level with him on that,
anyhow. Then I lost sight of him. That was when he picked up with
this cast padre here. I found that they had set up house-keeping
together at this place on the line that she had to pass for the
station. I kept my eye on her after that, for I knew there was some
devilry in the wind. I saw them from time to time, for I was anxious
to know what they were after. Two days ago Woodley came up to my
house with this cable, which showed that Ralph Smith was dead. He
asked me if I would stand by the bargain. I said I would not. He
asked me if I would marry the girl myself and give him a share. I
said I would willingly do so, but that she would not have me. He
said, 'Let us get her married first, and after a week or two she may
see things a bit different.' I said I would have nothing to do with
violence. So he went off cursing, like the foul-mouthed blackguard
that he was, and swearing that he would have her yet. She was leaving
me this week-end, and I had got a trap to take her to the station,
but I was so uneasy in my mind that I followed her on my bicycle. She
had got a start, however, and before I could catch her the mischief
was done. The first thing I knew about it was when I saw you two
gentlemen driving back in her dog-cart."
Holmes rose and tossed the end of his cigarette into the grate. "I
have been very obtuse, Watson," said he. "When in your report you
said that you had seen the cyclist as you thought arrange his necktie
in the shrubbery, that alone should have told me all. However, we may
congratulate ourselves upon a curious and in some respects a unique
case. I perceive three of the county constabulary in the drive, and I
am glad to see that the little ostler is able to keep pace with them;
so it is likely that neither he nor the interesting bridegroom will
be permanently damaged by their morning's adventures. I think,
Watson, that in your medical capacity you might wait upon Miss Smith
and tell her that if she is sufficiently recovered we shall be happy
to escort her to her mother's home. If she is not quite convalescent
you will find that a hint that we were about to telegraph to a young
electrician in the Midlands would probably complete the cure. As to
you, Mr. Carruthers, I think that you have done what you could to
make amends for your share in an evil plot. There is my card, sir,
and if my evidence can be of help to you in your trial it shall be at
your disposal."
In the whirl of our incessant activity it has often been difficult
for me, as the reader has probably observed, to round off my
narratives, and to give those final details which the curious might
expect. Each case has been the prelude to another, and the crisis
once over the actors have passed for ever out of our busy lives. I
find, however, a short note at the end of my manuscripts dealing with
this case, in which I have put it upon record that Miss Violet Smith
did indeed inherit a large fortune, and that she is now the wife of
Cyril Morton, the senior partner of Morton & Kennedy, the famous
Westminster electricians. Williamson and Woodley were both tried for
abduction and assault, the former getting seven years and the latter
ten. Of the fate of Carruthers I have no record, but I am sure that
his assault was not viewed very gravely by the Court, since Woodley
had the reputation of being a most dangerous ruffian, and I think
that a few months were sufficient to satisfy the demands of justice.
THE ADVENTURE OF THE PRIORY SCHOOL
We have had some dramatic entrances and exits upon our small stage at
Baker Street, but I cannot recollect anything more sudden and
startling than the first appearance of Thorneycroft Huxtable, M.A.,
Ph.D., etc. His card, which seemed too small to carry the weight of
his academic distinctions, preceded him by a few seconds, and then he
entered himself--so large, so pompous, and so dignified that he was
the very embodiment of self-possession and solidity. And yet his
first action when the door had closed behind him was to stagger
against the table, whence he slipped down upon the floor, and there
was that majestic figure prostrate and insensible upon our bearskin
hearthrug.
We had sprung to our feet, and for a few moments we stared in silent
amazement at this ponderous piece of wreckage, which told of some
sudden and fatal storm far out on the ocean of life. Then Holmes
hurried with a cushion for his head and I with brandy for his lips.
The heavy white face was seamed with lines of trouble, the hanging
pouches under the closed eyes were leaden in colour, the loose mouth
drooped dolorously at the corners, the rolling chins were unshaven.
Collar and shirt bore the grime of a long journey, and the hair
bristled unkempt from the well-shaped head. It was a sorely-stricken
man who lay before us.
"What is it, Watson?" asked Holmes.
"Absolute exhaustion--possibly mere hunger and fatigue," said I, with
my finger on the thready pulse, where the stream of life trickled
thin and small.
"Return ticket from Mackleton, in the North of England," said Holmes,
drawing it from the watch-pocket. "It is not twelve o'clock yet. He
has certainly been an early starter."
The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and now a pair of vacant,
grey eyes looked up at us. An instant later the man had scrambled on
to his feet, his face crimson with shame.
"Forgive this weakness, Mr. Holmes; I have been a little overwrought.
Thank you, if I might have a glass of milk and a biscuit I have no
doubt that I should be better. I came personally, Mr. Holmes, in
order to ensure that you would return with me. I feared that no
telegram would convince you of the absolute urgency of the case."
"When you are quite restored--
"I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I came to be so weak. I
wish you, Mr. Holmes, to come to Mackleton with me by the next
train."
My friend shook his head.
"My colleague, Dr. Watson, could tell you that we are very busy at
present. I am retained in this case of the Ferrers Documents, and the
Abergavenny murder is coming up for trial. Only a very important
issue could call me from London at present."
"Important!" Our visitor threw up his hands. "Have you heard nothing
of the abduction of the only son of the Duke of Holdernesse?"
"What! the late Cabinet Minister?"
"Exactly. We had tried to keep it out of the papers, but there was
some rumour in the Globe last night. I thought it might have reached
your ears."
Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked out Volume "H" in his
encyclopaedia of reference.
"'Holdernesse, 6th Duke, K.G., P.C.'--half the alphabet! 'Baron
Beverley, Earl of Carston'--dear me, what a list! 'Lord Lieutenant of
Hallamshire since 1900. Married Edith, daughter of Sir Charles
Appledore, 1888. Heir and only child, Lord Saltire. Owns about two
hundred and fifty thousand acres. Minerals in Lancashire and Wales.
Address: Carlton House Terrace; Holdernesse Hall, Hallamshire;
Carston Castle, Bangor, Wales. Lord of the Admiralty, 1872; Chief
Secretary of State for--' Well, well, this man is certainly one of
the greatest subjects of the Crown!"
"The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes,
that you take a very high line in professional matters, and that you
are prepared to work for the work's sake. I may tell you, however,
that his Grace has already intimated that a cheque for five thousand
pounds will be handed over to the person who can tell him where his
son is, and another thousand to him who can name the man, or men, who
have taken him."
"It is a princely offer," said Holmes. "Watson, I think that we shall
accompany Dr. Huxtable back to the North of England. And now, Dr.
Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk you will kindly tell me
what has happened, when it happened, how it happened, and, finally,
what Dr. Thorneycroft Huxtable, of the Priory School, near Mackleton,
has to do with the matter, and why he comes three days after an
event--the state of your chin gives the date--to ask for my humble
services."
Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had come
back to his eyes and the colour to his cheeks as he set himself with
great vigour and lucidity to explain the situation.
"I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory
school, of which I am the founder and principal. 'Huxtable's
Sidelights on Horace' may possibly recall my name to your memories.
The Priory is, without exception, the best and most select
preparatory school in England. Lord Leverstoke, the Earl of
Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames--they all have entrusted their sons
to me. But I felt that my school had reached its zenith when, three
weeks ago, the Duke of Holdernesse sent Mr. James Wilder, his
secretary, with the intimation that young Lord Saltire, ten years
old, his only son and heir, was about to be committed to my charge.
Little did I think that this would be the prelude to the most
crushing misfortune of my life.
"On May 1st the boy arrived, that being the beginning of the summer
term. He was a charming youth, and he soon fell into our ways. I may
tell you--I trust that I am not indiscreet, but half-confidences are
absurd in such a case--that he was not entirely happy at home. It is
an open secret that the Duke's married life had not been a peaceful
one, and the matter had ended in a separation by mutual consent, the
Duchess taking up her residence in the South of France. This had
occurred very shortly before, and the boy's sympathies are known to
have been strongly with his mother. He moped after her departure from
Holdernesse Hall, and it was for this reason that the Duke desired to
send him to my establishment. In a fortnight the boy was quite at
home with us, and was apparently absolutely happy.
"He was last seen on the night of May 13th--that is, the night of
last Monday. His room was on the second floor, and was approached
through another larger room in which two boys were sleeping. These
boys saw and heard nothing, so that it is certain that young Saltire
did not pass out that way. His window was open, and there is a stout
ivy plant leading to the ground. We could trace no footmarks below,
but it is sure that this is the only possible exit.
