length of it, but it was his face which held my gaze. He was deadly
pale--never have I seen a man so white. I reckon ghosts may look like
that; but his eyes met mine, and they were the eyes of a living man.
He sprang back when he saw that I was looking at him, and he vanished
into the darkness.
"There was something shocking about the man, Mr. Holmes. It wasn't
merely that ghastly face glimmering as white as cheese in the
darkness. It was more subtle than that--something slinking, something
furtive, something guilty-- something very unlike the frank, manly
lad that I had known. It left a feeling of horror in my mind.
"But when a man has been soldiering for a year or two with brother
Boer as a playmate, he keeps his nerve and acts quickly. Godfrey had
hardly vanished before I was at the window. There was an awkward
catch, and I was some little time before I could throw it up. Then I
nipped through and ran down the garden path in the direction that I
thought he might have taken.
"It was a long path and the light was not very good, but it seemed to
me something was moving ahead of me. I ran on and called his name,
but it was no use. When I got to the end of the path there were
several others branching in different directions to various
outhouses. I stood hesitating, and as I did so I heard distinctly the
sound of a closing door. It was not behind me in the house, but ahead
of me, somewhere in the darkness. That was enough, Mr. Holmes, to
assure me that what I had seen was not a vision. Godfrey had run away
from me, and he had shut a door behind him. Of that I was certain.
"There was nothing more I could do, and I spent an uneasy night
turning the matter over in my mind and trying to find some theory
which would cover the facts. Next day I found the colonel rather more
conciliatory, and as his wife remarked that there were some places of
interest in the neighbourhood, it gave me an opening to ask whether
my presence for one more night would incommode them. A somewhat
grudging acquiescence from the old man gave me a clear day in which
to make my observations. I was already perfectly convinced that
Godfrey was in hiding somewhere near, but where and why remained to
be solved.
"The house was so large and so rambling that a regiment might be hid
away in it and no one the wiser. If the secret lay there it was
difficult for me to penetrate it. But the door which I had heard
close was certainly not in the house. I must explore the garden and
see what I could find. There was no difficulty in the way, for the
old people were busy in their own fashion and left me to my own
devices.
"There were several small outhouses, but at the end of the garden
there was a detached building of some size--large enough for a
gardener's or a gamekeeper's residence. Could this be the place
whence the sound of that shutting door had come? I approached it in a
careless fashion as though I were strolling aimlessly round the
grounds. As I did so, a small, brisk, bearded man in a black coat and
bowler hat--not at all the gardener type--came out of the door. To my
surprise, he locked it after him and put the key in his pocket. Then
he looked at me with some surprise on his face.
"'Are you a visitor here?' he asked.
"I explained that I was and that I was a friend of Godfrey's.
"'What a pity that he should be away on his travels, for he would
have so liked to see me,' I continued.
"'Quite so. Exactly,' said he with a rather guilty air. 'No doubt you
will renew your visit at some more propitious time.' He passed on,
but when I turned I observed that he was standing watching me,
half-concealed by the laurels at the far end of the garden.
"I had a good look at the little house as I passed it, but the
windows were heavily curtained, and, so far as one could see, it was
empty. I might spoil my own game and even be ordered off the premises
if I were too audacious, for I was still conscious that I was being
watched. Therefore, I strolled back to the house and waited for night
before I went on with my inquiry. When all was dark and quiet I
slipped out of my window and made my way as silently as possible to
the mysterious lodge.
"I have said that it was heavily curtained, but now I found that the
windows were shuttered as well. Some light, however, was breaking
through one of them, so I concentrated my attention upon this. I was
in luck, for the curtain had not been quite closed, and there was a
crack in the shutter, so that I could see the inside of the room. It
was a cheery place enough, a bright lamp and a blazing fire. Opposite
to me was seated the little man whom I had seen in the morning. He
was smoking a pipe and reading a paper."
"What paper?" I asked.
My client seemed annoyed at the interruption of his narrative.
"Can it matter?" he asked.
"It is most essential."
"I really took no notice."
"Possibly you observed whether it was a broad-leafed paper or of that
smaller type which one associates with weeklies."
"Now that you mention it, it was not large. It might have been the
Spectator. However, I had little thought to spare upon such details,
for a second man was seated with his back to the window, and I could
swear that this second man was Godfrey. I could not see his face, but
I knew the familiar slope of his shoulders. He was leaning upon his
elbow in an attitude of great melancholy, his body turned towards the
fire. I was hesitating as to what I should do when there was a sharp
tap on my shoulder, and there was Colonel Emsworth beside me.
"'This way, sir!' said he in a low voice. He walked in silence to the
house, and I followed him into my own bedroom. He had picked up a
time-table in the hall.
"'There is a train to London at 8.30,' said he. 'The trap will be at
the door at eight.'
"He was white with rage, and, indeed, I felt myself in so difficult a
position that I could only stammer out a few incoherent apologies in
which I tried to excuse myself by urging my anxiety for my friend.
"'The matter will not bear discussion,' said he abruptly. 'You have
made a most damnable intrusion into the privacy of our family. You
were here as a guest and you have become a spy. I have nothing more
to say, sir, save that I have no wish ever to see you again.'
"At this I lost my temper, Mr. Holmes, and I spoke with some warmth.
"'I have seen your son, and I am convinced that for some reason of
your own you are concealing him from the world. I have no idea what
your motives are in cutting him off in this fashion, but I am sure
that he is no longer a free agent. I warn you, Colonel Emsworth, that
until I am assured as to the safety and well-being of my friend I
shall never desist in my efforts to get to the bottom of the mystery,
and I shall certainly not allow myself to be intimidated by anything
which you may say or do.'
"The old fellow looked diabolical, and I really thought he was about
to attack me. I have said that he was a gaunt, fierce old giant, and
though I am no weakling I might have been hard put to it to hold my
own against him. However, after a long glare of rage he turned upon
his heel and walked out of the room. For my part, I took the
appointed train in the morning, with the full intention of coming
straight to you and asking for your advice and assistance at the
appointment for which I had already written."
Such was the problem which my visitor laid before me. It presented,
as the astute reader will have already perceived, few difficulties in
its solution, for a very limited choice of alternatives must get to
the root of the matter. Still, elementary as it was, there were
points of interest and novelty about it which may excuse my placing
it upon record. I now proceeded, using my familiar method of logical
analysis, to narrow down the possible solutions.
"The servants," I asked; "how many were in the house?"
"To the best of my belief there were only the old butler and his
wife. They seemed to live in the simplest fashion."
"There was no servant, then, in the detached house?"
"None, unless the little man with the beard acted as such. He seemed,
however, to be quite a superior person."
"That seems very suggestive. Had you any indication that food was
conveyed from the one house to the other?"
"Now that you mention it, I did see old Ralph carrying a basket down
the garden walk and going in the direction of this house. The idea of
food did not occur to me at the moment."
"Did you make any local inquiries?"
"Yes, I did. I spoke to the station-master and also to the innkeeper
in the village. I simply asked if they knew anything of my old
comrade, Godfrey Emsworth. Both of them assured me that he had gone
for a voyage round the world. He had come home and then had almost at
once started off again. The story was evidently universally
accepted."
"You said nothing of your suspicions?"
"Nothing."
"That was very wise. The matter should certainly be inquired into. I
will go back with you to Tuxbury Old Park."
"To-day?"
It happened that at the moment I was clearing up the case which my
friend Watson has described as that of the Abbey School, in which the
Duke of Greyminster was so deeply involved. I had also a commission
from the Sultan of Turkey which called for immediate action, as
political consequences of the gravest kind might arise from its
neglect. Therefore it was not until the beginning of the next week,
as my diary records, that I was able to start forth on my mission to
Bedfordshire in company with Mr. James M. Dodd. As we drove to Euston
we picked up a grave and taciturn gentleman of iron-gray aspect, with
whom I had made the necessary arrangements.
"This is an old friend," said I to Dodd. "It is possible that his
presence may be entirely unnecessary, and, on the other hand, it may
be essential. It is not necessary at the present stage to go further
into the matter."
The narratives of Watson have accustomed the reader, no doubt, to the
fact that I do not waste words or disclose my thoughts while a case
is actually under consideration. Dodd seemed surprised, but nothing
more was said, and the three of us continued our journey together. In
the train I asked Dodd one more question which I wished our companion
to hear.
"You say that you saw your friend's face quite clearly at the window,
so clearly that you are sure of his identity?"
"I have no doubt about it whatever. His nose was pressed against the
glass. The lamplight shone full upon him."
"It could not have been someone resembling him?"
"No, no, it was he."
"But you say he was changed?"
"Only in colour. His face was--how shall I describe it?--it was of a
fish-belly whiteness. It was bleached."
"Was it equally pale all over?"
"I think not. It was his brow which I saw so clearly as it was
pressed against the window."
"Did you call to him?"
"I was too startled and horrified for the moment. Then I pursued him,
as I have told you, but without result."
My case was practically complete, and there was only one small
incident needed to round it off. When, after a considerable drive, we
arrived at the strange old rambling house which my client had
described, it was Ralph, the elderly butler, who opened the door. I
had requisitioned the carriage for the day and had asked my elderly
friend to remain within it unless we should summon him. Ralph, a
little wrinkled old fellow, was in the conventional costume of black
coat and pepper-and-salt trousers, with only one curious variant. He
wore brown leather gloves, which at sight of us he instantly shuffled
off, laying them down on the hall-table as we passed in. I have, as
my friend Watson may have remarked, an abnormally acute set of
senses, and a faint but incisive scent was apparent. It seemed to
centre on the hall-table. I turned, placed my hat there, knocked it
off, stooped to pick it up, and contrived to bring my nose within a
foot of the gloves. Yes, it was undoubtedly from them that the
curious tarry odour was oozing. I passed on into the study with my
case complete. Alas, that I should have to show my hand so when I
tell my own story! It was by concealing such links in the chain that
Watson was enabled to produce his meretricious finales.
Colonel Emsworth was not in his room, but he came quickly enough on
receipt of Ralph's message. We heard his quick, heavy step in the
passage. The door was flung open and he rushed in with bristling
beard and twisted features, as terrible an old man as ever I have
seen. He held our cards in his hand, and he tore them up and stamped
on the fragments.
"Have I not told you, you infernal busybody, that you are warned off
