consumed the two hard-boiled eggs with which our new cook has
favoured us. Their condition may not be unconnected with the copy of
the Family Herald which I observed yesterday upon the hall-table.
Even so trivial a matter as cooking an egg demands an attention which
is conscious of the passage of time and incompatible with the love
romance in that excellent periodical."
A quarter of an hour later the table had been cleared and we were
face to face. He had drawn a letter from his pocket.
"You have heard of Neil Gibson, the Gold King?" he said.
"You mean the American Senator?"
"Well, he was once Senator for some Western state, but is better
known as the greatest gold-mining magnate in the world."
"Yes, I know of him. He has surely lived in England for some time.
His name is very familiar."
"Yes, he bought a considerable estate in Hampshire some five years
ago. Possibly you have already heard of the tragic end of his wife?"
"Of course. I remember it now. That is why the name is familiar. But
I really know nothing of the details."
Holmes waved his hand towards some papers on a chair. "I had no idea
that the case was coming my way or I should have had my extracts
ready," said he. "The fact is that the problem, though exceedingly
sensational, appeared to present no difficulty. The interesting
personality of the accused does not obscure the clearness of the
evidence. That was the view taken by the coroner's jury and also in
the police-court proceedings. It is now referred to the Assizes at
Winchester. I fear it is a thankless business. I can discover facts,
Watson, but I cannot change them. Unless some entirely new and
unexpected ones come to light I do not see what my client can hope
for."
"Your client?"
"Ah, I forgot I had not told you. I am getting into your involved
habit, Watson, of telling a story backward. You had best read this
first."
The letter which he handed to me, written in a bold, masterful hand,
ran as follows:
Claridge's Hotel
October 3rd.
Dear Mr. Sherlock Holmes:
I can't see the best woman God ever made go to her death without
doing all that is possible to save her. I can't explain things--I
can't even try to explain them, but I know beyond all doubt that Miss
Dunbar is innocent. You know the facts--who doesn't? It has been the
gossip of the country. And never a voice raised for her! It's the
damned injustice of it all that makes me crazy. That woman has a
heart that wouldn't let her kill a fly. Well, I'll come at eleven
to-morrow and see if you can get some ray of light in the dark. Maybe
I have a clue and don't know it. Anyhow, all I know and all I have
and all I am are for your use if only you can save her. If ever in
your life you showed your powers, put them now into this case.
Yours faithfully,
J. Neil Gibson.
"There you have it," said Sherlock Holmes, knocking out the ashes of
his after-breakfast pipe and slowly refilling it. "That is the
gentleman I await. As to the story, you have hardly time to master
all these papers, so I must give it to you in a nutshell if you are
to take an intelligent interest in the proceedings. This man is the
greatest financial power in the world, and a man, as I understand, of
most violent and formidable character. He married a wife, the victim
of this tragedy, of whom I know nothing save that she was past her
prime, which was the more unfortunate as a very attractive governess
superintended the education of two young children. These are the
three people concerned, and the scene is a grand old manor house, the
centre of a historical English state. Then as to the tragedy. The
wife was found in the grounds nearly half a mile from the house, late
at night, clad in her dinner dress, with a shawl over her shoulders
and a revolver bullet through her brain. No weapon was found near her
and there was no local clue as to the murder. No weapon near her,
Watson--mark that! The crime seems to have been committed late in the
evening, and the body was found by a game-keeper about eleven
o'clock, when it was examined by the police and by a doctor before
being carried up to the house. Is this too condensed, or can you
follow it clearly?"
"It is all very clear. But why suspect the governess?"
"Well, in the first place there is some very direct evidence. A
revolver with one discharged chamber and a calibre which corresponded
with the bullet was found on the floor of her wardrobe." His eyes
fixed and he repeated in broken words,
"On--the--floor--of--her--wardrobe." Then he sank into silence, and I
saw that some train of thought had been set moving which I should be
foolish to interrupt. Suddenly with a start he emerged into brisk
life once more. "Yes, Watson, it was found. Pretty damning, eh? So
the two juries thought. Then the dead woman had a note upon her
making an appointment at that very place and signed by the governess.
How's that? Finally there is the motive. Senator Gibson is an
attractive person. If his wife dies, who more likely to succeed her
than the young lady who had already by all accounts received pressing
attentions from her employer? Love, fortune, power, all depending
upon one middle-aged life. Ugly, Watson--very ugly!"
"Yes, indeed, Holmes."
"Nor could she prove an alibi. On the contrary, she had to admit that
she was down near Thor Bridge--that was the scene of the
tragedy--about that hour. She couldn't deny it, for some passing
villager had seen her there."
"That really seems final."
"And yet, Watson--and yet! This bridge--a single broad span of stone
with balustraded sides--carries the drive over the narrowest part of
a long, deep, reed-girt sheet of water. Thor Mere it is called. In
the mouth of the bridge lay the dead woman. Such are the main facts.
But here, if I mistake not, is our client, considerably before his
time."
Billy had opened the door, but the name which he announced was an
unexpected one. Mr. Marlow Bates was a stranger to both of us. He was
a thin, nervous wisp of a man with frightened eyes and a twitching,
hesitating manner--a man whom my own professional eye would judge to
be on the brink of an absolute nervous breakdown.
"You seem agitated, Mr. Bates," said Holmes. "Pray sit down. I fear I
can only give you a short time, for I have an appointment at eleven."
"I know you have," our visitor gasped, shooting out short sentences
like a man who is out of breath. "Mr. Gibson is coming. Mr. Gibson is
my employer. I am manager of his estate. Mr. Holmes, he is a
villain--an infernal villain."
"Strong language, Mr. Bates."
"I have to be emphatic, Mr. Holmes, for the time is so limited. I
would not have him find me here for the world. He is almost due now.
But I was so situated that I could not come earlier. His secretary,
Mr. Ferguson, only told me this morning of his appointment with you."
"And you are his manager?"
"I have given him notice. In a couple of weeks I shall have shaken
off his accursed slavery. A hard man, Mr. Holmes, hard to all about
him. Those public charities are a screen to cover his private
iniquities. But his wife was his chief victim. He was brutal to
her--yes, sir, brutal! How she came by her death I do not know, but I
am sure that he had made her life a misery to her. She was a creature
of the tropics, a Brazilian by birth, as no doubt you know."
"No, it had escaped me."
"Tropical by birth and tropical by nature. A child of the sun and of
passion. She had loved him as such women can love, but when her own
physical charms had faded--I am told that they once were great--there
was nothing to hold him. We all liked her and felt for her and hated
him for the way that he treated her. But he is plausible and cunning.
That is all I have to say to you. Don't take him at his face value.
There is more behind. Now I'll go. No, no, don't detain me! He is
almost due."
With a frightened look at the clock our strange visitor literally ran
to the door and disappeared.
"Well! Well!" said Holmes after an interval of silence. "Mr. Gibson
seems to have a nice loyal household. But the warning is a useful
one, and now we can only wait till the man himself appears."
Sharp at the hour we heard a heavy step upon the stairs, and the
famous millionaire was shown into the room. As I looked upon him I
understood not only the fears and dislike of his manager but also the
execrations which so many business rivals have heaped upon his head.
If I were a sculptor and desired to idealize the successful man of
affairs, iron of nerve and leathery of conscience, I should choose
Mr. Neil Gibson as my model. His tall, gaunt, craggy figure had a
suggestion of hunger and rapacity. An Abraham Lincoln keyed to base
uses instead of high ones would give some idea of the man. His face
might have been chiselled in granite, hard-set, craggy, remorseless,
with deep lines upon it, the scars of many a crisis. Cold gray eyes,
looking shrewdly out from under bristling brows, surveyed us each in
turn. He bowed in perfunctory fashion as Holmes mentioned my name,
and then with a masterful air of possession he drew a chair up to my
companion and seated himself with his bony knees almost touching him.
"Let me say right here, Mr. Holmes," he began, "that money is nothing
to me in this case. You can burn it if it's any use in lighting you
to the truth. This woman is innocent and this woman has to be
cleared, and it's up to you to do it. Name your figure!"
"My professional charges are upon a fixed scale," said Holmes coldly.
"I do not vary them, save when I remit them altogether."
"Well, if dollars make no difference to you, think of the reputation.
If you pull this off every paper in England and America will be
booming you. You'll be the talk of two continents."
"Thank you, Mr. Gibson, I do not think that I am in need of booming.
It may surprise you to know that I prefer to work anonymously, and
that it is the problem itself which attracts me. But we are wasting
time. Let us get down to the facts."
"I think that you will find all the main ones in the press reports. I
don't know that I can add anything which will help you. But if there
is anything you would wish more light upon--well, I am here to give
it."
"Well, there is just one point."
"What is it?"
"What were the exact relations between you and Miss Dunbar?"
The Gold King gave a violent start and half rose from his chair. Then
his massive calm came back to him.
"I suppose you are within your rights--and maybe doing your duty--in
asking such a question, Mr. Holmes."
"We will agree to suppose so," said Holmes.
"Then I can assure you that our relations were entirely and always
those of an employer towards a young lady whom he never conversed
with, or ever saw, save when she was in the company of his children."
Holmes rose from his chair.
"I am a rather busy man, Mr. Gibson," said he, "and I have no time or
taste for aimless conversations. I wish you good-morning."
Our visitor had risen also, and his great loose figure towered above
Holmes. There was an angry gleam from under those bristling brows and
a tinge of colour in the sallow cheeks.
"What the devil do you mean by this, Mr. Holmes? Do you dismiss my
case?"
"Well, Mr. Gibson, at least I dismiss you. I should have thought my
words were plain."
"Plain enough, but what's at the back of it? Raising the price on me,
or afraid to tackle it, or what? I've a right to a plain answer."
"Well, perhaps you have," said Holmes. "I'll give you one. This case
is quite sufficiently complicated to start with without the further
difficulty of false information."
"Meaning that I lie."
"Well, I was trying to express it as delicately as I could, but if
you insist upon the word I will not contradict you."
I sprang to my feet, for the expression upon the millionaire's face
was fiendish in its intensity, and he had raised his great knotted
fist. Holmes smiled languidly and reached his hand out for his pipe.
"Don't be noisy, Mr. Gibson. I find that after breakfast even the
smallest argument is unsettling. I suggest that a stroll in the
morning air and a little quiet thought will be greatly to your
advantage."
With an effort the Gold King mastered his fury. I could not but
admire him, for by a supreme self-command he had turned in a minute
from a hot flame of anger to a frigid and contemptuous indifference.
"Well, it's your choice. I guess you know how to run your own
business. I can't make you touch the case against your will. You've
