第 28 页

hung on one corner of the bed. The lash, however, was curled

upon itself and tied so as to make a loop of whipcord.

"What do you make of that, Watson?"

"It's a common enough lash. But I don't know why if should

be tied."

"That is not quite so common, is it? Ah, me! it's a wicked

world, and when a clever man turns his brains to crime it is the

worst of all. I think that I have seen enough now, Miss Stoner,

and with your permission we shall walk out upon the lawn."

I had never seen my friend's face so grim or his brow so dark

as it was when we turned from the scene of this investigation.

We had walked several times up and down the lawn, neither

Miss Stoner nor myself liking to break in upon his thoughts

before he roused himself from his reverie.

"It is very essential, Miss Stoner," said he, "that you should

absolutely follow my advice in every respect."

"I shall most certainly do so."

"The matter is too serious for any hesitation. Your life may

depend upon your compliance."

"I assure you that I am in your hands."

"In the first place, both my friend and I must spend the night

in your room."

Both Miss Stoner and I gazed at him in astonishment.

"Yes, it must be so. Let me explain. I believe that that is the

village inn over there?"

"Yes, that is the Crown."

"Very good. Your windows would be visible from there?"

"Certainly."

"You must confine yourself to your room, on pretence of a

headache, when your stepfather comes back. Then when you

hear him retire for the night, you must open the shutters of your

window, undo the hasp, put your lamp there as a signal to us,

and then withdraw quietly with everything which you are likely

to want into the room which you used to occupy. I have no doubt

that, in spite of the repairs, you could manage there for one

night."

"Oh, yes, easily."

"The rest you will leave in our hands."

"But what will you do?"

"We shall spend the night in your room, and we shall investi-

gate the cause of this noise which has disturbed you."

"I believe, Mr. Holmes, that you have already made up your

mind," said Miss Stoner, laying her hand upon my companion's

sleeve.

"Perhaps I have."

"Then, for pity's sake, tell me what was the cause of my

sister's death."

"I should prefer to have clearer proofs before I speak."

"You can at least tell me whether my own thought is correct,

and if she died from some sudden fright."

"No, I do not think so. I think that there was probably some

more tangible cause. And now, Miss Stoner, we must leave you

for if Dr. Roylott returned and saw us our journey would be in

vain. Good-bye, and be brave, for if you will do what I have told

you you may rest assured that we shall soon drive away the

dangers that threaten you."

Sherlock Holmes and I had no difficulty in engaging a bed-

room and sitting-room at the Crown Inn. They were on the upper

floor, and from our window we could command a view of the

avenue gate, and of the inhabited wing of Stoke Moran Manor

House. At dusk we saw Dr. Grimesby Roylott drive past, his

huge form looming up beside the little figure of the lad who

drove him. The boy had some slight difficulty in undoing the

heavy iron gates, and we heard the hoarse roar of the doctor's

voice and saw the fury with which he shook his clinched fists at

him. The trap drove on, and a few minutes later we saw a

sudden light spring up among the trees as the lamp was lit in one

of the sitting-rooms.

"Do you know, Watson," said Holmes as we sat together in

the gathering darkness, "I have really some scruples as to taking

you to-night. There is a distinct element of danger."

"Can I be of assistance?"

"Your presence might be invaluable."

"Then I shall certainly come."

"It is very kind of you."

"You speak of danger. You have evidently seen more in these

rooms than was visible to me."

"No, but I fancy that I may have deduced a little more. I

imagine that you saw all that I did."

"I saw nothing remarkable save the bell-rope, and what purpose

that could answer I confess is more than I can imagine."

"You saw the ventilator, too?"

"Yes, but I do not think that it is such a very unusual thing to

have a small opening between two rooms. It was so small that a

rat could hardly pass through."

"I knew that we should find a ventilator before ever we came

to Stoke Moran."

"My dear Holmes!"

"Oh, yes, I did. You remember in her statement she said that

her sister could smell Dr. Roylott's cigar. Now, of course that

suggested at once that there must be a communication between

the two rooms. It could only be a small one, or it would have

been remarked upon at the coroner's inquiry. I deduced a

ventilator."

"But what harm can there be in that?"

"Well, there is at least a curious coincidence of dates. A

ventilator is made, a cord is hung, and a lady who sleeps in the

bed dies. Does not that strike you?"

"I cannot as yet see any connection."

"Did you observe anything very peculiar about that bed?"

"No."

"It was clamped to the floor. Did you ever see a bed fastened

like that before?"

"I cannot say that I have."

"The lady could not move her bed. It must always be in the

same relative position to the ventilator and to the rope -- or so we

may call it, since it was clearly never meant for a bell-pull."

"Holmes," I cried, "I seem to see dimly what you are hinting

at. We are only just in time to prevent some subtle and horrible

crime."

"Subtle enough and horrible enough. When a doctor does go

wrong he is the first of criminals. He has nerve and he has

knowledge. Palmer and Pritchard were among the heads of their

profession. This man strikes even deeper, but I think, Watson,

that we shall be able to strike deeper still. But we shall have

horrors enough before the night is over; for goodness' sake let us

have a quiet pipe and turn our minds for a few hours to some-

thing more cheerful."

* * *

About nine o'clock the light among the trees was extinguished,

and all was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours

passed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of

eleven, a single bright light shone out right in front of us.

"That is our signal," said Holmes, springing to his feet; "it

comes from the middle window."

As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the land-

lord, explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaint-

ance, and that it was possible that we might spend the night

there. A moment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind

blowing in our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of

us through the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.

There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for unre-

paired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way

among the trees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about

to enter through the window when out from a clump of laurel

bushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted

child, who threw itself upon the grass with writhing limbs and

then ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness.

"My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?"

Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed

like a vise upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a

low laugh and put his lips to my ear.

"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon."

I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected.

There was a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our

shoulders at any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind

when, after following Holmes's example and slipping off my

shoes, I found myself inside the bedroom. My companion noise-

lessly closed the shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and

cast his eyes round the room. All was as we had seen it in the

daytime. Then creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his

hand, he whispered into my ear again so gently that it was all

that I could do to distinguish the words:

"The least sound would be fatal to our plans."

I nodded to show that I had heard.

"We must sit without light. He would see it through the

ventilator."

I nodded again.

"Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have

your pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side

of the bed, and you in that chair."

I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.

Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed

upon the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and

the stump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we

were left in darkness.

How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a

sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my

companion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same

state of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut

off the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness.

From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once

at our very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us

that the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear

the deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every

quarter of an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters!

Twelve struck, and one and two and three, and still we sat

waiting silently for whatever might befall.

Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the

direction of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was

succeeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal.

Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle

sound of movement, and then all was silent once more, though

the smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining

ears. Then suddenly another sound became audible -- a very gen-

tle, soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escaping

continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes

sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with

his cane at the bell-pull.

"You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?"

But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the

light I heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing

into my weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was

at which my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see

that his face was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing.-

He had ceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator

when suddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most

horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder

and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled

in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the

village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the

sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I stood

gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it had

died away into the silence from which it rose.

"What can it mean?" I gasped.

"It means that it is all over," Holmes answered. "And per-

haps, after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will

enter Dr. Roylott's room."

With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the

corridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply

from within. Then he turned the handle and entered, I at his

heels, with the cocked pistol in my hand.

It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood

a dark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant

beam of light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar.

Beside this table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott

clad in a long gray dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding

beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers.

Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash which we

had noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward and his

eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the

ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band, with

brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round his

head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion.

"The band! the speckled band!" whispered Holmes.

I took a step forward. In an instant his strange headgear began

to move, and there reared itself from among his hair the squat

diamond-shaped head and puffed neck of a loathsome serpent.

"It is a swamp adder!" cried Holmes; "the deadliest snake in

India. He has died within ten seconds of being bitten. Violence

does, in truth, recoil upon the violent, and the schemer falls into

the pit which he digs for another. Let us thrust this creature back

into its den, and we can then remove Miss Stoner to some place

of shelter and let the county police know what has happened."

As he spoke he drew the dog-whip swiftly from the dead

man's lap, and throwing the noose round the reptile's neck he

drew it from its horrid perch and, carrying it at arm's length,

threw it into the iron safe, which he closed upon it.

Such are the true facts of the death of Dr. Grimesby Roylott,

of Stoke Moran. It is not necessary that I should prolong a

narrative which has already run to too great a length by telling

how we broke the sad news to the terrified girl, how we con-

veyed her by the morning train to the care of her good aunt at