night, however, nothing had transpired as to the whereabouts of the
missing lady. There are rumours of foul play in the matter, and it is
said that the police have caused the arrest of the woman who had
caused the original disturbance, in the belief that, from jealousy or
some other motive, she may have been concerned in the strange
disappearance of the bride.'"
"And is that all?"
"Only one little item in another of the morning papers, but it is a
suggestive one."
"And it is--"
"That Miss Flora Millar, the lady who had caused the disturbance, has
actually been arrested. It appears that she was formerly a danseuse
at the Allegro, and that she has known the bridegroom for some years.
There are no further particulars, and the whole case is in your hands
now--so far as it has been set forth in the public press."
"And an exceedingly interesting case it appears to be. I would not
have missed it for worlds. But there is a ring at the bell, Watson,
and as the clock makes it a few minutes after four, I have no doubt
that this will prove to be our noble client. Do not dream of going,
Watson, for I very much prefer having a witness, if only as a check
to my own memory."
"Lord Robert St. Simon," announced our page-boy, throwing open the
door. A gentleman entered, with a pleasant, cultured face, high-nosed
and pale, with something perhaps of petulance about the mouth, and
with the steady, well-opened eye of a man whose pleasant lot it had
ever been to command and to be obeyed. His manner was brisk, and yet
his general appearance gave an undue impression of age, for he had a
slight forward stoop and a little bend of the knees as he walked. His
hair, too, as he swept off his very curly-brimmed hat, was grizzled
round the edges and thin upon the top. As to his dress, it was
careful to the verge of foppishness, with high collar, black
frock-coat, white waistcoat, yellow gloves, patent-leather shoes, and
light-coloured gaiters. He advanced slowly into the room, turning his
head from left to right, and swinging in his right hand the cord
which held his golden eyeglasses.
"Good-day, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes, rising and bowing. "Pray
take the basket-chair. This is my friend and colleague, Dr. Watson.
Draw up a little to the fire, and we will talk this matter over."
"A most painful matter to me, as you can most readily imagine, Mr.
Holmes. I have been cut to the quick. I understand that you have
already managed several delicate cases of this sort, sir, though I
presume that they were hardly from the same class of society."
"No, I am descending."
"I beg pardon."
"My last client of the sort was a king."
"Oh, really! I had no idea. And which king?"
"The King of Scandinavia."
"What! Had he lost his wife?"
"You can understand," said Holmes suavely, "that I extend to the
affairs of my other clients the same secrecy which I promise to you
in yours."
"Of course! Very right! very right! I'm sure I beg pardon. As to my
own case, I am ready to give you any information which may assist you
in forming an opinion."
"Thank you. I have already learned all that is in the public prints,
nothing more. I presume that I may take it as correct--this article,
for example, as to the disappearance of the bride."
Lord St. Simon glanced over it. "Yes, it is correct, as far as it
goes."
"But it needs a great deal of supplementing before anyone could offer
an opinion. I think that I may arrive at my facts most directly by
questioning you."
"Pray do so."
"When did you first meet Miss Hatty Doran?"
"In San Francisco, a year ago."
"You were travelling in the States?"
"Yes."
"Did you become engaged then?"
"No."
"But you were on a friendly footing?"
"I was amused by her society, and she could see that I was amused."
"Her father is very rich?"
"He is said to be the richest man on the Pacific slope."
"And how did he make his money?"
"In mining. He had nothing a few years ago. Then he struck gold,
invested it, and came up by leaps and bounds."
"Now, what is your own impression as to the young lady's--your wife's
character?"
The nobleman swung his glasses a little faster and stared down into
the fire. "You see, Mr. Holmes," said he, "my wife was twenty before
her father became a rich man. During that time she ran free in a
mining camp and wandered through woods or mountains, so that her
education has come from Nature rather than from the schoolmaster. She
is what we call in England a tomboy, with a strong nature, wild and
free, unfettered by any sort of traditions. She is
impetuous--volcanic, I was about to say. She is swift in making up
her mind and fearless in carrying out her resolutions. On the other
hand, I would not have given her the name which I have the honour to
bear"--he gave a little stately cough--"had not I thought her to be
at bottom a noble woman. I believe that she is capable of heroic
self-sacrifice and that anything dishonourable would be repugnant to
her."
"Have you her photograph?"
"I brought this with me." He opened a locket and showed us the full
face of a very lovely woman. It was not a photograph but an ivory
miniature, and the artist had brought out the full effect of the
lustrous black hair, the large dark eyes, and the exquisite mouth.
Holmes gazed long and earnestly at it. Then he closed the locket and
handed it back to Lord St. Simon.
"The young lady came to London, then, and you renewed your
acquaintance?"
"Yes, her father brought her over for this last London season. I met
her several times, became engaged to her, and have now married her."
"She brought, I understand, a considerable dowry?"
"A fair dowry. Not more than is usual in my family."
"And this, of course, remains to you, since the marriage is a fait
accompli?"
"I really have made no inquiries on the subject."
"Very naturally not. Did you see Miss Doran on the day before the
wedding?"
"Yes."
"Was she in good spirits?"
"Never better. She kept talking of what we should do in our future
lives."
"Indeed! That is very interesting. And on the morning of the
wedding?"
"She was as bright as possible--at least until after the ceremony."
"And did you observe any change in her then?"
"Well, to tell the truth, I saw then the first signs that I had ever
seen that her temper was just a little sharp. The incident however,
was too trivial to relate and can have no possible bearing upon the
case."
"Pray let us have it, for all that."
"Oh, it is childish. She dropped her bouquet as we went towards the
vestry. She was passing the front pew at the time, and it fell over
into the pew. There was a moment's delay, but the gentleman in the
pew handed it up to her again, and it did not appear to be the worse
for the fall. Yet when I spoke to her of the matter, she answered me
abruptly; and in the carriage, on our way home, she seemed absurdly
agitated over this trifling cause."
"Indeed! You say that there was a gentleman in the pew. Some of the
general public were present, then?"
"Oh, yes. It is impossible to exclude them when the church is open."
"This gentleman was not one of your wife's friends?"
"No, no; I call him a gentleman by courtesy, but he was quite a
common-looking person. I hardly noticed his appearance. But really I
think that we are wandering rather far from the point."
"Lady St. Simon, then, returned from the wedding in a less cheerful
frame of mind than she had gone to it. What did she do on re-entering
her father's house?"
"I saw her in conversation with her maid."
"And who is her maid?"
"Alice is her name. She is an American and came from California with
her."
"A confidential servant?"
"A little too much so. It seemed to me that her mistress allowed her
to take great liberties. Still, of course, in America they look upon
these things in a different way."
"How long did she speak to this Alice?"
"Oh, a few minutes. I had something else to think of."
"You did not overhear what they said?"
"Lady St. Simon said something about 'jumping a claim.' She was
accustomed to use slang of the kind. I have no idea what she meant."
"American slang is very expressive sometimes. And what did your wife
do when she finished speaking to her maid?"
"She walked into the breakfast-room."
"On your arm?"
"No, alone. She was very independent in little matters like that.
Then, after we had sat down for ten minutes or so, she rose
hurriedly, muttered some words of apology, and left the room. She
never came back."
"But this maid, Alice, as I understand, deposes that she went to her
room, covered her bride's dress with a long ulster, put on a bonnet,
and went out."
"Quite so. And she was afterwards seen walking into Hyde Park in
company with Flora Millar, a woman who is now in custody, and who had
already made a disturbance at Mr. Doran's house that morning."
"Ah, yes. I should like a few particulars as to this young lady, and
your relations to her."
Lord St. Simon shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows. "We
have been on a friendly footing for some years--I may say on a very
friendly footing. She used to be at the Allegro. I have not treated
her ungenerously, and she had no just cause of complaint against me,
but you know what women are, Mr. Holmes. Flora was a dear little
thing, but exceedingly hot-headed and devotedly attached to me. She
wrote me dreadful letters when she heard that I was about to be
married, and, to tell the truth, the reason why I had the marriage
celebrated so quietly was that I feared lest there might be a scandal
in the church. She came to Mr. Doran's door just after we returned,
and she endeavoured to push her way in, uttering very abusive
expressions towards my wife, and even threatening her, but I had
foreseen the possibility of something of the sort, and I had two
police fellows there in private clothes, who soon pushed her out
again. She was quiet when she saw that there was no good in making a
row."
"Did your wife hear all this?"
"No, thank goodness, she did not."
"And she was seen walking with this very woman afterwards?"
"Yes. That is what Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, looks upon as so
serious. It is thought that Flora decoyed my wife out and laid some
terrible trap for her."
"Well, it is a possible supposition."
"You think so, too?"
"I did not say a probable one. But you do not yourself look upon this
as likely?"
"I do not think Flora would hurt a fly."
"Still, jealousy is a strange transformer of characters. Pray what is
your own theory as to what took place?"
"Well, really, I came to seek a theory, not to propound one. I have
given you all the facts. Since you ask me, however, I may say that it
has occurred to me as possible that the excitement of this affair,
the consciousness that she had made so immense a social stride, had
the effect of causing some little nervous disturbance in my wife."
"In short, that she had become suddenly deranged?"
"Well, really, when I consider that she has turned her back--I will
not say upon me, but upon so much that many have aspired to without
success--I can hardly explain it in any other fashion."
"Well, certainly that is also a conceivable hypothesis," said Holmes,
smiling. "And now, Lord St. Simon, I think that I have nearly all my
data. May I ask whether you were seated at the breakfast-table so
that you could see out of the window?"
"We could see the other side of the road and the Park."
"Quite so. Then I do not think that I need to detain you longer. I
shall communicate with you."
"Should you be fortunate enough to solve this problem," said our
client, rising.
"I have solved it."
"Eh? What was that?"
"I say that I have solved it."
"Where, then, is my wife?"
"That is a detail which I shall speedily supply."
Lord St. Simon shook his head. "I am afraid that it will take wiser
heads than yours or mine," he remarked, and bowing in a stately,
old-fashioned manner he departed.
"It is very good of Lord St. Simon to honour my head by putting it on
