a mad woman, subtly mad with the deep power of deception which insane
people may have. How else could she have met me with unconcern every
day and yet had so raging a hatred of me in her heart? I will not say
what she said. She poured her whole wild fury out in burning and
horrible words. I did not even answer--I could not. It was dreadful
to see her. I put my hands to my ears and rushed away. When I left
her she was standing, still shrieking out her curses at me, in the
mouth of the bridge."
"Where she was afterwards found?"
"Within a few yards from the spot."
"And yet, presuming that she met her death shortly after you left
her, you heard no shot?"
"No, I heard nothing. But, indeed, Mr. Holmes, I was so agitated and
horrified by this terrible outbreak that I rushed to get back to the
peace of my own room, and I was incapable of noticing anything which
happened."
"You say that you returned to your room. Did you leave it again
before next morning?"
"Yes, when the alarm came that the poor creature had met her death I
ran out with the others."
"Did you see Mr. Gibson?"
"Yes, he had just returned from the bridge when I saw him. He had
sent for the doctor and the police."
"Did he seem to you much perturbed?"
"Mr. Gibson is a very strong, self-contained man. I do not think that
he would ever show his emotions on the surface. But I, who knew him
so well, could see that he was deeply concerned."
"Then we come to the all-important point. This pistol that was found
in your room. Had you ever seen it before?"
"Never, I swear it."
"When was it found?"
"Next morning, when the police made their search."
"Among your clothes?"
"Yes, on the floor of my wardrobe under my dresses."
"You could not guess how long it had been there?"
"It had not been there the morning before."
"How do you know?"
"Because I tidied out the wardrobe."
"That is final. Then someone came into your room and placed the
pistol there in order to inculpate you."
"It must have been so."
"And when?"
"It could only have been at meal-time, or else at the hours when I
would be in the schoolroom with the children."
"As you were when you got the note?"
"Yes, from that time onward for the whole morning."
"Thank you, Miss Dunbar. Is there any other point which could help me
in the investigation?"
"I can think of none."
"There was some sign of violence on the stonework of the bridge--a
perfectly fresh chip just opposite the body. Could you suggest any
possible explanation of that?"
"Surely it must be a mere coincidence."
"Curious, Miss Dunbar, very curious. Why should it appear at the very
time of the tragedy, and why at the very place?"
"But what could have caused it? Only great violence could have such
an effect."
Holmes did not answer. His pale, eager face had suddenly assumed that
tense, far-away expression which I had learned to associate with the
supreme manifestations of his genius. So evident was the crisis in
his mind that none of us dared to speak, and we sat, barrister,
prisoner, and myself, watching him in a concentrated and absorbed
silence. Suddenly he sprang from his chair, vibrating with nervous
energy and the pressing need for action.
"Come, Watson, come!" he cried.
"What is it, Mr. Holmes?"
"Never mind, my dear lady. You will hear from me, Mr. Cummings. With
the help of the god of justice I will give you a case which will make
England ring. You will get news by to-morrow, Miss Dunbar, and
meanwhile take my assurance that the clouds are lifting and that I
have every hope that the light of truth is breaking through."
It was not a long journey from Winchester to Thor Place, but it was
long to me in my impatience, while for Holmes it was evident that it
seemed endless; for, in his nervous restlessness, he could not sit
still, but paced the carriage or drummed with his long, sensitive
fingers upon the cushions beside him. Suddenly, however, as we neared
our destination he seated himself opposite to me--we had a
first-class carriage to ourselves--and laying a hand upon each of my
knees he looked into my eyes with the peculiarly mischievous gaze
which was characteristic of his more imp-like moods.
"Watson," said he, "I have some recollection that you go armed upon
these excursions of ours."
It was as well for him that I did so, for he took little care for his
own safety when his mind was once absorbed by a problem, so that more
than once my revolver had been a good friend in need. I reminded him
of the fact.
"Yes, yes, I am a little absent-minded in such matters. But have you
your revolver on you?"
I produced it from my hip-pocket, a short, handy, but very
serviceable little weapon. He undid the catch, shook out the
cartridges, and examined it with care.
"It's heavy--remarkably heavy," said he.
"Yes, it is a solid bit of work."
He mused over it for a minute.
"Do you know, Watson," said he, "I believe your revolver is going to
have a very intimate connection with the mystery which we are
investigating."
"My dear Holmes, you are joking."
"No, Watson, I am very serious. There is a test before us. If the
test comes off, all will be clear. And the test will depend upon the
conduct of this little weapon. One cartridge out. Now we will replace
the other five and put on the safety-catch. So! That increases the
weight and makes it a better reproduction."
I had no glimmer of what was in his mind, nor did he enlighten me,
but sat lost in thought until we pulled up in the little Hampshire
station. We secured a ramshackle trap, and in a quarter of an hour
were at the house of our confidential friend, the sergeant.
"A clue, Mr. Holmes? What is it?"
"It all depends upon the behaviour of Dr. Watson's revolver," said my
friend. "Here it is. Now, officer, can you give me ten yards of
string?"
The village shop provided a ball of stout twine.
"I think that this is all we will need," said Holmes. "Now, if you
please, we will get off on what I hope is the last stage of our
journey."
The sun was setting and turning the rolling Hampshire moor into a
wonderful autumnal panorama. The sergeant, with many critical and
incredulous glances, which showed his deep doubts of the sanity of my
companion, lurched along beside us. As we approached the scene of the
crime I could see that my friend under all his habitual coolness was
in truth deeply agitated.
"Yes," he said in answer to my remark, "you have seen me miss my mark
before, Watson. I have an instinct for such things, and yet it has
sometimes played me false. It seemed a certainty when first it
flashed across my mind in the cell at Winchester, but one drawback of
an active mind is that one can always conceive alternative
explanations which would make our scent a false one. And yet--and
yet-- Well, Watson, we can but try."
As he walked he had firmly tied one end of the string to the handle
of the revolver. We had now reached the scene of the tragedy. With
great care he marked out under the guidance of the policeman the
exact spot where the body had been stretched. He then hunted among
the heather and the ferns until he found a considerable stone. This
he secured to the other end of his line of string, and he hung it
over the parapet of the bridge so that it swung clear above the
water. He then stood on the fatal spot, some distance from the edge
of the bridge, with my revolver in his hand, the string being taut
between the weapon and the heavy stone on the farther side.
"Now for it!" he cried.
At the words he raised the pistol to his head, and then let go his
grip. In an instant it had been whisked away by the weight of the
stone, had struck with a sharp crack against the parapet, and had
vanished over the side into the water. It had hardly gone before
Holmes was kneeling beside the stonework, and a joyous cry showed
that he had found what he expected.
"Was there ever a more exact demonstration?" he cried. "See, Watson,
your revolver has solved the problem!" As he spoke he pointed to a
second chip of the exact size and shape of the first which had
appeared on the under edge of the stone balustrade.
"We'll stay at the inn to-night," he continued as he rose and faced
the astonished sergeant. "You will, of course, get a grappling-hook
and you will easily restore my friend's revolver. You will also find
beside it the revolver, string and weight with which this vindictive
woman attempted to disguise her own crime and to fasten a charge of
murder upon an innocent victim. You can let Mr. Gibson know that I
will see him in the morning, when steps can be taken for Miss
Dunbar's vindication."
Late that evening, as we sat together smoking our pipes in the
village inn, Holmes gave me a brief review of what had passed.
"I fear, Watson," said he, "that you will not improve any reputation
which I may have acquired by adding the case of the Thor Bridge
mystery to your annals. I have been sluggish in mind and wanting in
that mixture of imagination and reality which is the basis of my art.
I confess that the chip in the stonework was a sufficient clue to
suggest the true solution, and that I blame myself for not having
attained it sooner.
"It must be admitted that the workings of this unhappy woman's mind
were deep and subtle, so that it was no very simple matter to unravel
her plot. I do not think that in our adventures we have ever come
across a stranger example of what perverted love can bring about.
Whether Miss Dunbar was her rival in a physical or in a merely mental
sense seems to have been equally unforgivable in her eyes. No doubt
she blamed this innocent lady for all those harsh dealings and unkind
words with which her husband tried to repel her too demonstrative
affection. Her first resolution was to end her own life. Her second
was to do it in such a way as to involve her victim in a fate which
was worse far than any sudden death could be.
"We can follow the various steps quite clearly, and they show a
remarkable subtlety of mind. A note was extracted very cleverly from
Miss Dunbar which would make it appear that she had chosen the scene
of the crime. In her anxiety that it should be discovered she
somewhat overdid it by holding it in her hand to the last. This alone
should have excited my suspicions earlier than it did.
"Then she took one of her husband's revolvers--there was, as you saw,
an arsenal in the house--and kept it for her own use. A similar one
she concealed that morning in Miss Dunbar's wardrobe after
discharging one barrel, which she could easily do in the woods
without attracting attention. She then went down to the bridge where
she had contrived this exceedingly ingenious method for getting rid
of her weapon. When Miss Dunbar appeared she used her last breath in
pouring out her hatred, and then, when she was out of hearing,
carried out her terrible purpose. Every link is now in its place and
the chain is complete. The papers may ask why the mere was not
dragged in the first instance, but it is easy to be wise after the
event, and in any case the expanse of a reed-filled lake is no easy
matter to drag unless you have a clear perception of what you are
looking for and where. Well, Watson, we have helped a remarkable
woman, and also a formidable man. Should they in the future join
their forces, as seems not unlikely, the financial world may find
that Mr. Neil Gibson has learned something in that schoolroom of
sorrow where our earthly lessons are taught."
THE ADVENTURE OF THE CREEPING MAN
Mr. Sherlock Holmes was always of opinion that I should publish the
singular facts connected with Professor Presbury, if only to dispel
once for all the ugly rumours which some twenty years ago agitated
the university and were echoed in the learned societies of London.
There were, however, certain obstacles in the way, and the true
history of this curious case remained entombed in the tin box which
contains so many records of my friend's adventures. Now we have at
last obtained permission to ventilate the facts which formed one of
the very last cases handled by Holmes before his retirement from
practice. Even now a certain reticence and discretion have to be
observed in laying the matter before the public.
It was one Sunday evening early in September of the year 1903 that I
received one of Holmes's laconic messages:
Come at once if convenient--if inconvenient come all the same.
S. H.
The relations between us in those latter days were peculiar. He was a
