mischievous eyes. "I think that if you knew all that I had in this
box you would ask me to pull some out instead of putting others in."
"These are the records of your early work, then?" I asked. "I have
often wished that I had notes of those cases."
"Yes, my boy, these were all done prematurely before my biographer
had come to glorify me." He lifted bundle after bundle in a tender,
caressing sort of way. "They are not all successes, Watson," said he.
"But there are some pretty little problems among them. Here's the
record of the Tarleton murders, and the case of Vamberry, the wine
merchant, and the adventure of the old Russian woman, and the
singular affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of
Ricoletti of the club-foot, and his abominable wife. And here--ah,
now, this really is something a little recherch?"
He dived his arm down to the bottom of the chest, and brought up a
small wooden box with a sliding lid, such as children's toys are kept
in. From within he produced a crumpled piece of paper, and
old-fashioned brass key, a peg of wood with a ball of string attached
to it, and three rusty old disks of metal.
"Well, my boy, what do you make of this lot?" he asked, smiling at my
expression.
"It is a curious collection."
"Very curious, and the story that hangs round it will strike you as
being more curious still."
"These relics have a history then?"
"So much so that they are history."
"What do you mean by that?"
Sherlock Holmes picked them up one by one, and laid them along the
edge of the table. Then he reseated himself in his chair and looked
them over with a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
"These," said he, "are all that I have left to remind me of the
adventure of the Musgrave Ritual."
I had heard him mention the case more than once, though I had never
been able to gather the details. "I should be so glad," said I, "if
you would give me an account of it."
"And leave the litter as it is?" he cried, mischievously. "Your
tidiness won't bear much strain after all, Watson. But I should be
glad that you should add this case to your annals, for there are
points in it which make it quite unique in the criminal records of
this or, I believe, of any other country. A collection of my trifling
achievements would certainly be incomplete which contained no account
of this very singular business.
"You may remember how the affair of the Gloria Scott, and my
conversation with the unhappy man whose fate I told you of, first
turned my attention in the direction of the profession which has
become my life's work. You see me now when my name has become known
far and wide, and when I am generally recognized both by the public
and by the official force as being a final court of appeal in
doubtful cases. Even when you knew me first, at the time of the
affair which you have commemorated in 'A Study in Scarlet,' I had
already established a considerable, though not a very lucrative,
connection. You can hardly realize, then, how difficult I found it at
first, and how long I had to wait before I succeeded in making any
headway.
"When I first came up to London I had rooms in Montague Street, just
round the corner from the British Museum, and there I waited, filling
in my too abundant leisure time by studying all those branches of
science which might make me more efficient. Now and again cases came
in my way, principally through the introduction of old
fellow-students, for during my last years at the University there was
a good deal of talk there about myself and my methods. The third of
these cases was that of the Musgrave Ritual, and it is to the
interest which was aroused by that singular chain of events, and the
large issues which proved to be at stake, that I trace my first
stride towards to the position which I now hold.
"Reginald Musgrave had been in the same college as myself, and I had
some slight acquaintance with him. He was not generally popular among
the undergraduates, though it always seemed to me that what was set
down as pride was really an attempt to cover extreme natural
diffidence. In appearance he was a man of exceedingly aristocratic
type, thin, high-nosed, and large-eyed, with languid and yet courtly
manners. He was indeed a scion of one of the very oldest families in
the kingdom, though his branch was a cadet one which had separated
from the northern Musgraves some time in the sixteenth century, and
had established itself in western Sussex, where the Manor House of
Hurlstone is perhaps the oldest inhabited building in the county.
Something of his birth place seemed to cling to the man, and I never
looked at his pale, keen face or the poise of his head without
associating him with gray archways and mullioned windows and all the
venerable wreckage of a feudal keep. Once or twice we drifted into
talk, and I can remember that more than once he expressed a keen
interest in my methods of observation and inference.
"For four years I had seen nothing of him until one morning he walked
into my room in Montague Street. He had changed little, was dressed
like a young man of fashion--he was always a bit of a dandy--and
preserved the same quiet, suave manner which had formerly
distinguished him.
"'How has all gone with you Musgrave?' I asked, after we had
cordially shaken hands.
"'You probably heard of my poor father's death,' said he; 'he was
carried off about two years ago. Since then I have of course had the
Hurlstone estates to manage, and as I am member for my district as
well, my life has been a busy one. But I understand, Holmes, that you
are turning to practical ends those powers with which you used to
amaze us?'
"'Yes,' said I, 'I have taken to living by my wits.'
"'I am delighted to hear it, for your advice at present would be
exceedingly valuable to me. We have had some very strange doings at
Hurlstone, and the police have been able to throw no light upon the
matter. It is really the most extraordinary and inexplicable
business.'
"You can imagine with what eagerness I listened to him, Watson, for
the very chance for which I had been panting during all those months
of inaction seemed to have come within my reach. In my inmost heart I
believed that I could succeed where others failed, and now I had the
opportunity to test myself.
"'Pray, let me have the details,' I cried.
"Reginald Musgrave sat down opposite to me, and lit the cigarette
which I had pushed towards him.
"'You must know,' said he, 'that though I am a bachelor, I have to
keep up a considerable staff of servants at Hurlstone, for it is a
rambling old place, and takes a good deal of looking after. I
preserve, too, and in the pheasant months I usually have a
house-party, so that it would not do to be short-handed. Altogether
there are eight maids, the cook, the butler, two footmen, and a boy.
The garden and the stables of course have a separate staff.
"'Of these servants the one who had been longest in our service was
Brunton the butler. He was a young school-master out of place when he
was first taken up by my father, but he was a man of great energy and
character, and he soon became quite invaluable in the household. He
was a well-grown, handsome man, with a splendid forehead, and though
he has been with us for twenty years he cannot be more than forty
now. With his personal advantages and his extraordinary gifts--for he
can speak several languages and play nearly every musical
instrument--it is wonderful that he should have been satisfied so
long in such a position, but I suppose that he was comfortable, and
lacked energy to make any change. The butler of Hurlstone is always a
thing that is remembered by all who visit us.
"'But this paragon has one fault. He is a bit of a Don Juan, and you
can imagine that for a man like him it is not a very difficult part
to play in a quiet country district. When he was married it was all
right, but since he has been a widower we have had no end of trouble
with him. A few months ago we were in hopes that he was about to
settle down again for he became engaged to Rachel Howells, our second
house-maid; but he has thrown her over since then and taken up with
Janet Tregellis, the daughter of the head game-keeper. Rachel--who is
a very good girl, but of an excitable Welsh temperament--had a sharp
touch of brain-fever, and goes about the house now--or did until
yesterday--like a black-eyed shadow of her former self. That was our
first drama at Hurlstone; but a second one came to drive it from our
minds, and it was prefaced by the disgrace and dismissal of butler
Brunton.
"'This was how it came about. I have said that the man was
intelligent, and this very intelligence has caused his ruin, for it
seems to have led to an insatiable curiosity about things which did
not in the least concern him. I had no idea of the lengths to which
this would carry him, until the merest accident opened my eyes to it.
"'I have said that the house is a rambling one. One day last week--on
Thursday night, to be more exact--I found that I could not sleep,
having foolishly taken a cup of strong caf?noir after my dinner.
After struggling against it until two in the morning, I felt that it
was quite hopeless, so I rose and lit the candle with the intention
of continuing a novel which I was reading. The book, however, had
been left in the billiard-room, so I pulled on my dressing-gown and
started off to get it.
"'In order to reach the billiard-room I had to descend a flight of
stairs and then to cross the head of a passage which led to the
library and the gun-room. You can imagine my surprise when, as I
looked down this corridor, I saw a glimmer of light coming from the
open door of the library. I had myself extinguished the lamp and
closed the door before coming to bed. Naturally my first thought was
of burglars. The corridors at Hurlstone have their walls largely
decorated with trophies of old weapons. From one of these I picked a
battle-axe, and then, leaving my candle behind me, I crept on tiptoe
down the passage and peeped in at the open door.
"'Brunton, the butler, was in the library. He was sitting, fully
dressed, in an easy-chair, with a slip of paper which looked like a
map upon his knee, and his forehead sunk forward upon his hand in
deep thought. I stood dumb with astonishment, watching him from the
darkness. A small taper on the edge of the table shed a feeble light
which sufficed to show me that he was fully dressed. Suddenly, as I
looked, he rose from his chair, and walking over to a bureau at the
side, he unlocked it and drew out one of the drawers. From this he
took a paper, and returning to his seat he flattened it out beside
the taper on the edge of the table, and began to study it with minute
attention. My indignation at this calm examination of our family
documents overcame me so far that I took a step forward, and Brunton,
looking up, saw me standing in the doorway. He sprang to his feet,
his face turned livid with fear, and he thrust into his breast the
chart-like paper which he had been originally studying.
"'"So!" said I. "This is how you repay the trust which we have
reposed in you. You will leave my service to-morrow."
"'He bowed with the look of a man who is utterly crushed, and slunk
past me without a word. The taper was still on the table, and by its
light I glanced to see what the paper was which Brunton had taken
from the bureau. To my surprise it was nothing of any importance at
all, but simply a copy of the questions and answers in the singular
old observance called the Musgrave Ritual. It is a sort of ceremony
peculiar to our family, which each Musgrave for centuries past has
gone through on his coming of age--a thing of private interest, and
perhaps of some little importance to the archaeologist, like our own
blazonings and charges, but of no practical use whatever.'
"'We had better come back to the paper afterwards,' said I.
"'If you think it really necessary,' he answered, with some
hesitation. 'To continue my statement, however: I relocked the
bureau, using the key which Brunton had left, and I had turned to go
when I was surprised to find that the butler had returned, and was
standing before me.
"'"Mr. Musgrave, sir," he cried, in a voice which was hoarse with
emotion, "I can't bear disgrace, sir. I've always been proud above my
station in life, and disgrace would kill me. My blood will be on your
head, sir--it will, indeed--if you drive me to despair. If you cannot
keep me after what has passed, then for God's sake let me give you
notice and leave in a month, as if of my own free will. I could stand
that, Mr. Musgrave, but not to be cast out before all the folk that I
