such a day and at such an hour. But I take it that it is more likely
to be some crony of the landlady's."
Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for there came
a step in the passage and a tapping at the door. He stretched out his
long arm to turn the lamp away from himself and towards the vacant
chair upon which a newcomer must sit.
"Come in!" said he.
The man who entered was young, some two-and-twenty at the outside,
well-groomed and trimly clad, with something of refinement and
delicacy in his bearing. The streaming umbrella which he held in his
hand, and his long shining waterproof told of the fierce weather
through which he had come. He looked about him anxiously in the glare
of the lamp, and I could see that his face was pale and his eyes
heavy, like those of a man who is weighed down with some great
anxiety.
"I owe you an apology," he said, raising his golden pince-nez to his
eyes. "I trust that I am not intruding. I fear that I have brought
some traces of the storm and rain into your snug chamber."
"Give me your coat and umbrella," said Holmes. "They may rest here on
the hook and will be dry presently. You have come up from the
south-west, I see."
"Yes, from Horsham."
"That clay and chalk mixture which I see upon your toe caps is quite
distinctive."
"I have come for advice."
"That is easily got."
"And help."
"That is not always so easy."
"I have heard of you, Mr. Holmes. I heard from Major Prendergast how
you saved him in the Tankerville Club scandal."
"Ah, of course. He was wrongfully accused of cheating at cards."
"He said that you could solve anything."
"He said too much."
"That you are never beaten."
"I have been beaten four times--three times by men, and once by a
woman."
"But what is that compared with the number of your successes?"
"It is true that I have been generally successful."
"Then you may be so with me."
"I beg that you will draw your chair up to the fire and favour me
with some details as to your case."
"It is no ordinary one."
"None of those which come to me are. I am the last court of appeal."
"And yet I question, sir, whether, in all your experience, you have
ever listened to a more mysterious and inexplicable chain of events
than those which have happened in my own family."
"You fill me with interest," said Holmes. "Pray give us the essential
facts from the commencement, and I can afterwards question you as to
those details which seem to me to be most important."
The young man pulled his chair up and pushed his wet feet out towards
the blaze.
"My name," said he, "is John Openshaw, but my own affairs have, as
far as I can understand, little to do with this awful business. It is
a hereditary matter; so in order to give you an idea of the facts, I
must go back to the commencement of the affair.
"You must know that my grandfather had two sons--my uncle Elias and
my father Joseph. My father had a small factory at Coventry, which he
enlarged at the time of the invention of bicycling. He was a patentee
of the Openshaw unbreakable tire, and his business met with such
success that he was able to sell it and to retire upon a handsome
competence.
"My uncle Elias emigrated to America when he was a young man and
became a planter in Florida, where he was reported to have done very
well. At the time of the war he fought in Jackson's army, and
afterwards under Hood, where he rose to be a colonel. When Lee laid
down his arms my uncle returned to his plantation, where he remained
for three or four years. About 1869 or 1870 he came back to Europe
and took a small estate in Sussex, near Horsham. He had made a very
considerable fortune in the States, and his reason for leaving them
was his aversion to the negroes, and his dislike of the Republican
policy in extending the franchise to them. He was a singular man,
fierce and quick-tempered, very foul-mouthed when he was angry, and
of a most retiring disposition. During all the years that he lived at
Horsham, I doubt if ever he set foot in the town. He had a garden and
two or three fields round his house, and there he would take his
exercise, though very often for weeks on end he would never leave his
room. He drank a great deal of brandy and smoked very heavily, but he
would see no society and did not want any friends, not even his own
brother.
"He didn't mind me; in fact, he took a fancy to me, for at the time
when he saw me first I was a youngster of twelve or so. This would be
in the year 1878, after he had been eight or nine years in England.
He begged my father to let me live with him and he was very kind to
me in his way. When he was sober he used to be fond of playing
backgammon and draughts with me, and he would make me his
representative both with the servants and with the tradespeople, so
that by the time that I was sixteen I was quite master of the house.
I kept all the keys and could go where I liked and do what I liked,
so long as I did not disturb him in his privacy. There was one
singular exception, however, for he had a single room, a lumber-room
up among the attics, which was invariably locked, and which he would
never permit either me or anyone else to enter. With a boy's
curiosity I have peeped through the keyhole, but I was never able to
see more than such a collection of old trunks and bundles as would be
expected in such a room.
"One day--it was in March, 1883--a letter with a foreign stamp lay
upon the table in front of the colonel's plate. It was not a common
thing for him to receive letters, for his bills were all paid in
ready money, and he had no friends of any sort. 'From India!' said he
as he took it up, 'Pondicherry postmark! What can this be?' Opening
it hurriedly, out there jumped five little dried orange pips, which
pattered down upon his plate. I began to laugh at this, but the laugh
was struck from my lips at the sight of his face. His lip had fallen,
his eyes were protruding, his skin the colour of putty, and he glared
at the envelope which he still held in his trembling hand, 'K. K.
K.!' he shrieked, and then, 'My God, my God, my sins have overtaken
me!'
"'What is it, uncle?' I cried.
"'Death,' said he, and rising from the table he retired to his room,
leaving me palpitating with horror. I took up the envelope and saw
scrawled in red ink upon the inner flap, just above the gum, the
letter K three times repeated. There was nothing else save the five
dried pips. What could be the reason of his overpowering terror? I
left the breakfast-table, and as I ascended the stair I met him
coming down with an old rusty key, which must have belonged to the
attic, in one hand, and a small brass box, like a cashbox, in the
other.
"'They may do what they like, but I'll checkmate them still,' said he
with an oath. 'Tell Mary that I shall want a fire in my room to-day,
and send down to Fordham, the Horsham lawyer.'
"I did as he ordered, and when the lawyer arrived I was asked to step
up to the room. The fire was burning brightly, and in the grate there
was a mass of black, fluffy ashes, as of burned paper, while the
brass box stood open and empty beside it. As I glanced at the box I
noticed, with a start, that upon the lid was printed the treble K
which I had read in the morning upon the envelope.
"'I wish you, John,' said my uncle, 'to witness my will. I leave my
estate, with all its advantages and all its disadvantages, to my
brother, your father, whence it will, no doubt, descend to you. If
you can enjoy it in peace, well and good! If you find you cannot,
take my advice, my boy, and leave it to your deadliest enemy. I am
sorry to give you such a two-edged thing, but I can't say what turn
things are going to take. Kindly sign the paper where Mr. Fordham
shows you.'
"I signed the paper as directed, and the lawyer took it away with
him. The singular incident made, as you may think, the deepest
impression upon me, and I pondered over it and turned it every way in
my mind without being able to make anything of it. Yet I could not
shake off the vague feeling of dread which it left behind, though the
sensation grew less keen as the weeks passed and nothing happened to
disturb the usual routine of our lives. I could see a change in my
uncle, however. He drank more than ever, and he was less inclined for
any sort of society. Most of his time he would spend in his room,
with the door locked upon the inside, but sometimes he would emerge
in a sort of drunken frenzy and would burst out of the house and tear
about the garden with a revolver in his hand, screaming out that he
was afraid of no man, and that he was not to be cooped up, like a
sheep in a pen, by man or devil. When these hot fits were over,
however, he would rush tumultuously in at the door and lock and bar
it behind him, like a man who can brazen it out no longer against the
terror which lies at the roots of his soul. At such times I have seen
his face, even on a cold day, glisten with moisture, as though it
were new raised from a basin.
"Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr. Holmes, and not to abuse
your patience, there came a night when he made one of those drunken
sallies from which he never came back. We found him, when we went to
search for him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which
lay at the foot of the garden. There was no sign of any violence, and
the water was but two feet deep, so that the jury, having regard to
his known eccentricity, brought in a verdict of 'suicide.' But I, who
knew how he winced from the very thought of death, had much ado to
persuade myself that he had gone out of his way to meet it. The
matter passed, however, and my father entered into possession of the
estate, and of some ?4,000, which lay to his credit at the bank."
"One moment," Holmes interposed, "your statement is, I foresee, one
of the most remarkable to which I have ever listened. Let me have the
date of the reception by your uncle of the letter, and the date of
his supposed suicide."
"The letter arrived on March 10, 1883. His death was seven weeks
later, upon the night of May 2nd."
"Thank you. Pray proceed."
"When my father took over the Horsham property, he, at my request,
made a careful examination of the attic, which had been always locked
up. We found the brass box there, although its contents had been
destroyed. On the inside of the cover was a paper label, with the
initials of K. K. K. repeated upon it, and 'Letters, memoranda,
receipts, and a register' written beneath. These, we presume,
indicated the nature of the papers which had been destroyed by
Colonel Openshaw. For the rest, there was nothing of much importance
in the attic save a great many scattered papers and note-books
bearing upon my uncle's life in America. Some of them were of the war
time and showed that he had done his duty well and had borne the
repute of a brave soldier. Others were of a date during the
reconstruction of the Southern states, and were mostly concerned with
politics, for he had evidently taken a strong part in opposing the
carpet-bag politicians who had been sent down from the North.
"Well, it was the beginning of '84 when my father came to live at
Horsham, and all went as well as possible with us until the January
of '85. On the fourth day after the new year I heard my father give a
sharp cry of surprise as we sat together at the breakfast-table.
There he was, sitting with a newly opened envelope in one hand and
five dried orange pips in the outstretched palm of the other one. He
had always laughed at what he called my cock-and-bull story about the
colonel, but he looked very scared and puzzled now that the same
thing had come upon himself.
"'Why, what on earth does this mean, John?' he stammered.
"My heart had turned to lead. 'It is K. K. K.,' said I.
"He looked inside the envelope. 'So it is,' he cried. 'Here are the
very letters. But what is this written above them?'
"'Put the papers on the sundial,' I read, peeping over his shoulder.
"'What papers? What sundial?' he asked.
'"'The sundial in the garden. There is no other, said I; 'but the
papers must be those that are destroyed.'
"'Pooh!' said he, gripping hard at his courage. 'We are in a
civilised land here, and we can't have tomfoolery of this kind. Where
does the thing come from?'
"'From Dundee,' I answered, glancing at the postmark.
"'Some preposterous practical joke,' said he. 'What have I to do with
sundials and papers? I shall take no notice of such nonsense.'
