"He was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend
when he was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom
really went the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such
times, and he was capable of anything. From what I hear, in spite of
all his wealth and his title, he very nearly came our way once or
twice. There was a scandal about his drenching a dog with petroleum
and setting it on fire--her ladyship's dog, to make the matter
worse--and that was only hushed up with difficulty. Then he threw a
decanter at that maid, Theresa Wright; there was trouble about that.
On the whole, and between ourselves, it will be a brighter house
without him. What are you looking at now?"
Holmes was down on his knees examining with great attention the knots
upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured. Then he
carefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it had snapped
off when the burglar had dragged it down.
"When this was pulled down the bell in the kitchen must have rung
loudly," he remarked.
"No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back of the
house."
"How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he pull at
a bell-rope in that reckless fashion?"
"Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which I have
asked myself again and again. There can be no doubt that this fellow
must have known the house and its habits. He must have perfectly
understood that the servants would all be in bed at that
comparatively early hour, and that no one could possibly hear a bell
ring in the kitchen. Therefore he must have been in close league with
one of the servants. Surely that is evident. But there are eight
servants, and all of good character."
"Other things being equal," said Holmes, "one would suspect the one
at whose head the master threw a decanter. And yet that would involve
treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems devoted.
Well, well, the point is a minor one, and when you have Randall you
will probably find no difficulty in securing his accomplice. The
lady's story certainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed
corroboration, by every detail which we see before us." He walked to
the French window and threw it open. "There are no signs here, but
the ground is iron hard, and one would not expect them. I see that
these candles on the mantelpiece have been lighted."
"Yes; it was by their light and that of the lady's bedroom candle
that the burglars saw their way about."
"And what did they take?"
"Well, they did not take much--only half-a-dozen articles of plate
off the sideboard. Lady Brackenstall thinks that they were themselves
so disturbed by the death of Sir Eustace that they did not ransack
the house as they would otherwise have done."
"No doubt that is true. And yet they drank some wine, I understand."
"To steady their own nerves."
"Exactly. These three glasses upon the sideboard have been untouched,
I suppose?"
"Yes; and the bottle stands as they left it."
"Let us look at it. Halloa! halloa! what is this?"
The three glasses were grouped together, all of them tinged with
wine, and one of them containing some dregs of bees-wing. The bottle
stood near them, two-thirds full, and beside it lay a long,
deeply-stained cork. Its appearance and the dust upon the bottle
showed that it was no common vintage which the murderers had enjoyed.
A change had come over Holmes's manner. He had lost his listless
expression, and again I saw an alert light of interest in his keen,
deep-set eyes. He raised the cork and examined it minutely.
"How did they draw it?" he asked.
Hopkins pointed to a half-opened drawer. In it lay some table linen
and a large cork-screw.
"Did Lady Brackenstall say that screw was used?"
"No; you remember that she was senseless at the moment when the
bottle was opened."
"Quite so. As a matter of fact that screw was not used. This bottle
was opened by a pocket-screw, probably contained in a knife, and not
more than an inch and a half long. If you examine the top of the cork
you will observe that the screw was driven in three times before the
cork was extracted. It has never been transfixed. This long screw
would have transfixed it and drawn it with a single pull. When you
catch this fellow you will find that he has one of these multiplex
knives in his possession."
"Excellent!" said Hopkins.
"But these glasses do puzzle me, I confess. Lady Brackenstall
actually saw the three men drinking, did she not?"
"Yes; she was clear about that."
"Then there is an end of it. What more is to be said? And yet you
must admit that the three glasses are very remarkable, Hopkins. What,
you see nothing remarkable! Well, well, let it pass. Perhaps when a
man has special knowledge and special powers like my own it rather
encourages him to seek a complex explanation when a simpler one is at
hand. Of course, it must be a mere chance about the glasses. Well,
good morning, Hopkins. I don't see that I can be of any use to you,
and you appear to have your case very clear. You will let me know
when Randall is arrested, and any further developments which may
occur. I trust that I shall soon have to congratulate you upon a
successful conclusion. Come, Watson, I fancy that we may employ
ourselves more profitably at home."
During our return journey I could see by Holmes's face that he was
much puzzled by something which he had observed. Every now and then,
by an effort, he would throw off the impression and talk as if the
matter were clear, but then his doubts would settle down upon him
again, and his knitted brows and abstracted eyes would show that his
thoughts had gone back once more to the great dining-room of the
Abbey Grange in which this midnight tragedy had been enacted. At
last, by a sudden impulse, just as our train was crawling out of a
suburban station, he sprang on to the platform and pulled me out
after him.
"Excuse me, my dear fellow," said he, as we watched the rear
carriages of our train disappearing round a curve; "I am sorry to
make you the victim of what may seem a mere whim, but on my life,
Watson, I simply can't leave that case in this condition. Every
instinct that I possess cries out against it. It's wrong--it's all
wrong--I'll swear that it's wrong. And yet the lady's story was
complete, the maid's corroboration was sufficient, the detail was
fairly exact. What have I to put against that? Three wine-glasses,
that is all. But if I had not taken things for granted, if I had
examined everything with care which I would have shown had we
approached the case de novo and had no cut-and-dried story to warp my
mind, would I not then have found something more definite to go upon?
Of course I should. Sit down on this bench, Watson, until a train for
Chislehurst arrives, and allow me to lay the evidence before you,
imploring you in the first instance to dismiss from your mind the
idea that anything which the maid or her mistress may have said must
necessarily be true. The lady's charming personality must not be
permitted to warp our judgment.
"Surely there are details in her story which, if we looked at it in
cold blood, would excite our suspicion. These burglars made a
considerable haul at Sydenham a fortnight ago. Some account of them
and of their appearance was in the papers, and would naturally occur
to anyone who wished to invent a story in which imaginary robbers
should play a part. As a matter of fact, burglars who have done a
good stroke of business are, as a rule, only too glad to enjoy the
proceeds in peace and quiet without embarking on another perilous
undertaking. Again, it is unusual for burglars to operate at so early
an hour; it is unusual for burglars to strike a lady to prevent her
screaming, since one would imagine that was the sure way to make her
scream; it is unusual for them to commit murder when their numbers
are sufficient to overpower one man; it is unusual for them to be
content with a limited plunder when there is much more within their
reach; and finally I should say that it was very unusual for such men
to leave a bottle half empty. How do all these unusuals strike you,
Watson?"
"Their cumulative effect is certainly considerable, and yet each of
them is quite possible in itself. The most unusual thing of all, as
it seems to me, is that the lady should be tied to the chair."
"Well, I am not so clear about that, Watson; for it is evident that
they must either kill her or else secure her in such a way that she
could not give immediate notice of their escape. But at any rate I
have shown, have I not, that there is a certain element of
improbability about the lady's story? And now on the top of this
comes the incident of the wine-glasses."
"What about the wine-glasses?"
"Can you see them in your mind's eye?"
"I see them clearly."
"We are told that three men drank from them. Does that strike you as
likely?"
"Why not? There was wine in each glass."
"Exactly; but there was bees-wing only in one glass. You must have
noticed that fact. What does that suggest to your mind?"
"The last glass filled would be most likely to contain bees-wing."
"Not at all. The bottle was full of it, and it is inconceivable that
the first two glasses were clear and the third heavily charged with
it. There are two possible explanations, and only two. One is that
after the second glass was filled the bottle was violently agitated,
and so the third glass received the bees-wing. That does not appear
probable. No, no; I am sure that I am right."
"What, then, do you suppose?"
"That only two glasses were used, and that the dregs of both were
poured into a third glass, so as to give the false impression that
three people had been here. In that way all the bees-wing would be in
the last glass, would it not? Yes, I am convinced that this is so.
But if I have hit upon the true explanation of this one small
phenomenon, then in an instant the case rises from the commonplace to
the exceedingly remarkable, for it can only mean that Lady
Brackenstall and her maid have deliberately lied to us, that not one
word of their story is to be believed, that they have some very
strong reason for covering the real criminal, and that we must
construct our case for ourselves without any help from them. That is
the mission which now lies before us, and here, Watson, is the
Chislehurst train."
The household of the Abbey Grange were much surprised at our return,
but Sherlock Holmes, finding that Stanley Hopkins had gone off to
report to head-quarters, took possession of the dining-room, locked
the door upon the inside, and devoted himself for two hours to one of
those minute and laborious investigations which formed the solid
basis on which his brilliant edifices of deduction were reared.
Seated in a corner like an interested student who observes the
demonstration of his professor, I followed every step of that
remarkable research. The window, the curtains, the carpet, the chair,
the rope--each in turn was minutely examined and duly pondered. The
body of the unfortunate baronet had been removed, but all else
remained as we had seen it in the morning. Then, to my astonishment,
Holmes climbed up on to the massive mantelpiece. Far above his head
hung the few inches of red cord which were still attached to the
wire. For a long time he gazed upward at it, and then in an attempt
to get nearer to it he rested his knee upon a wooden bracket on the
wall. This brought his hand within a few inches of the broken end of
the rope, but it was not this so much as the bracket itself which
seemed to engage his attention. Finally he sprang down with an
ejaculation of satisfaction.
"It's all right, Watson," said he. "We have got our case--one of the
most remarkable in our collection. But, dear me, how slow-witted I
have been, and how nearly I have committed the blunder of my
lifetime! Now, I think that with a few missing links my chain is
almost complete."
"You have got your men?"
"Man, Watson, man. Only one, but a very formidable person. Strong as
a lion--witness the blow that bent that poker. Six foot three in
height, active as a squirrel, dexterous with his fingers; finally,
remarkably quick-witted, for this whole ingenious story is of his
concoction. Yes, Watson, we have come upon the handiwork of a very
remarkable individual. And yet in that bell-rope he has given us a
clue which should not have left us a doubt."
"Where was the clue?"
"Well, if you were to pull down a bell-rope, Watson, where would you
expect it to break? Surely at the spot where it is attached to the
wire. Why should it break three inches from the top as this one has
