第 33 页

Balmoral. Hum! Arms: Azure, three caltrops in chief over a fess

sable. Born in 1846. He's forty-one years of age, which is

mature for marriage. Was Under-Secretary for the colonies in a

late administration. The Duke, his father, was at one time Secre-

tary for Foreign Affairs. They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct

descent, and Tudor on the distaff side. Ha! Well, there is nothing

very instructive in all this. I think that I must turn to you

Watson, for something more solid."

"I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I,

"for the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as

remarkable. I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew

that you had an inquiry on hand and that you disliked the

intrusion of other matters."

"Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square

furniture van. That is quite cleared up now -- though, indeed, it

was obvious from the first. Pray give me the results of your

newspaper selections."

"Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal

column of the Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks

back:

"A marriage has been arranged [it says] and will, if rumour

is correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert St.

Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty

Doran, the only daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq., of San

Francisco, Cal., U. S. A.

That is all."

"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his

long, thin legs towards the fire.

"There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society

papers of the same week. Ah, here it is:

"There will soon be a call for protection in the marriage

market, for the present free-trade principle appears to tell

heavily against our home product. One by one the manage-

ment of the noble houses of Great Britain is passing into the

hands of our fair cousins from across the Atlantic. An

important addition has been made during the last week to

the list of the prizes which have been borne away by these

charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself

for over twenty years proof against the little god's arrows,

has now definitely announced his approaching marriage with

Miss Hatty Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California

millionaire. Miss Doran, whose graceful figure and striking

face attracted much attention at the Westbury House festivi-

ties, is an only child, and it is currently reported that her

dowry will run to considerably over the six figures, with

expectancies for the future. As it is an open secret that the

Duke of Balmoral has been compelled to sell his pictures within

the last few years, and as Lord St. Simon has no property of

his own save the small estate of Birchmoor, it is obvious

that the Californian heiress is not the only gainer by an

alliance which will enable her to make the easy and com-

mon transition from a Republican lady to a British peeress."

"Anything else?" asked Holmes, yawning.

"Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the Morning

Post to say that the mariage would be an absolutely quiet one,

that it would be at St. George's, Hanover Square, that only half

a dozen intimate friends would be invited, and that the party

would return to the furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has

been taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days later -- that is, on

Wednesday last -- there is a curt announcement that the wedding

had taken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at

Lord Backwater's place, near Petersfield. Those are all the no-

tices which appeared before the disappearance of the bride."

"Before the what?" asked Holmes with a start.

"The vanishing of the lady."

"When did she vanish, then?"

"At the wedding breakfast."

"Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quite

dramatic, in fact."

"Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common."

"They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally

during the honeymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite

so prompt as this. Pray let me have the details."

"I warn you that they are very incomplete."

"Perhaps we may make them less so."

"Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a

morning paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is

headed, 'Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding':

"The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown

into the greatest consternation by the strange and painful

episodes which have taken place in connection with his

wedding. The ceremony, as shortly announced in the papers

of yesterday, occurred on the previous morning; but it is

only now that it has been possible to confirm the strange

rumours which have been so persistently floating about. In

spite of the attempts of the friends to hush the matter up, so

much public attention has now been drawn to it that no

good purpose can be served by affecting to disregard what

is a common subject for conversation.

"The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's,

Hanover Square, was a very quiet one, no one being present

save the father of the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duch-

ess of Balmoral, Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace, and Lady

Clara St. Simon (the younger brother and sister of the

bridegroom), and Lady Alicia Whittington. The whole party

proceeded afterwards to the house of Mr. Aloysius Doran,

at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had been prepared. It

appears that some little trouble was caused by a woman,

whose name has not been ascertained, who endeavoured to

force her way into the house after the bridal party, alleging

that she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only

after a painful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by

the butler and the footman. The bride, who had fortunately

entered the house before this unpleasant interruption, had

sat down to breakfast with the rest, when she complained of

a sudden indisposition and retired to her room. Her pro-

longed absence having caused some comment, her father

followed her, but learned from her maid that she had only

come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up an ulster

and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage. One of the

footmen declared that he had seen a lady leave the house

thus apparelled, but had refused to credit that it was his

mistress, believing her to be with the company. On ascer-

taining that his daughter had disappeared, Mr. Aloysius

Doran, in conjunction with the bridegroom, instantly put

themselves in communication with the police, and very

energetic inquiries are being made, which will probably

result in a speedy clearing up of this very singular business.

Up to a late hour last night, however, nothing had tran-

spired 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 distur-

bance, has actually been arrested. It appears that she was for-

merly 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 wit-

ness, 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.

"Goodday, Lord St. Simon," said Holmes, rising and bow-

ing. "Pray take the basket-chair. This is my friend and col-

league, 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 cartying

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 vety 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?"