 Part 2 of Adventure 11 of the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, recording by Ruth Golding. Adventure 11. The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet. Part 2. My friend insisted upon my accompanying them in their expedition, which I was eager enough to do, for my curiosity and sympathy were deeply stirred by the story to which we had listened. I confess that the guilt of the banker's son appeared to me to be as obvious as it did to his unhappy father, but still I had such faith in Holmes' judgment that I felt there must be some grounds for hope, as long as he was dissatisfied with the accepted explanation. He hardly spoke a word the whole way out to the southern suburb, but sat with his chin upon his breast and his hat drawn over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought. Our client appeared to have taken fresh heart at the little glimpse of hope which had been presented to him, and he even broke into a desolatory chat with me over his business affairs. A short railway journey and a shorter walk brought us to Fairbank, the modest residence of the great financier. Fairbank was a good-sized square house of white stone, standing back a little from the road. A double carriage sweep with a snow-clad lawn stretched down in front to two large iron gates which closed the entrance. On the right side was a small wooden thicket which led into a narrow path between two neat hedges, stretching from the road to the kitchen door, and forming the tradesman's entrance. On the left ran a lane which led to the stables, and was not itself within the grounds at all, being a public, though little used, thoroughfare. Others left us standing at the door, and walked slowly all round the house, across the front, down the tradesman's path, and so round by the garden behind into the stable lane. So long was he that Mr. Holder and I went into the dining-room, and waited by the fire until he should return. We were sitting there in silence when the door opened and a young lady came in. She was rather above the middle height, slim with dark hair and eyes, which seemed the darker against the absent pallor of her skin. I do not think that I have ever seen such deadly paleness in a woman's face. Her lips, too, were bloodless, but her eyes were flushed with crying. As she swept silently into the room, she impressed me with a greater sense of grief than the banker had done in the morning, and it was the more striking in her as she was evidently a woman of strong character, with immense capacity for self-restraint. Disregarding my presence, she went straight to her uncle, and passed her hand over his head with a sweet womanly caress. "'You have given orders that Arthur should be liberated, have you not, Dad?' she asked. "'No, no, my girl. The matter must be probed to the bottom. But I am so sure that he is innocent. You know what woman's instincts are. I know that he has done no harm, and that you will be sorry for having acted so harshly. "'Why is he silent, then, if he is innocent? Who knows? Perhaps because he was so angry that you should suspect him. "'How could I help suspecting him when I actually saw him with the coronet in his hand?' "'Oh, but he had only picked it up to look at it. Oh, do, do take my word for it that he is innocent. Let the matter drop and say no more. It is so dreadful to think of our dear Arthur in prison.' "'I shall never let it drop until the gems are found. Never, Mary. Your affection for Arthur blinds you as to the awful consequences to me.' "'Far from hushing the thing up, I have brought a gentleman down from London to inquire more deeply into it.' "'This gentleman?' she asked, facing round to me. "'No, his friend. He wished just to leave him alone. He is round in the stable lane now.' "'The stable lane?' she raised her dark eyebrows. "'What can he hope to find there?' "'Ah, this, I suppose, is he. I trust, sir, that you will succeed in proving what I feel sure is the truth, that my cousin Arthur is innocent of this crime.' "'I fully share your opinion, and I trust with you that we may prove it,' returned Holmes, going back to the mat to knock the snow from his shoes. "'I believe I have the honour of addressing Miss Mary Holder. Might I ask you a question or two?' "'Pray do, sir, if it may help to clear this horrible affair up.' "'You heard nothing yourself last night?' "'Nothing. Until my uncle here began to speak loudly, I heard that, and I came down.' "'You all shut up the windows and doors the night before. Did you fasten all the windows?' "'Yes.' "'Were they all fastened this morning?' "'Yes.' "'You have a maid who has a sweetheart. I think that you remarked to your uncle last night, that she had been out to see him.' "'Yes, and she was the girl who waited in the drawing-room, and who may have heard uncle's remarks about the coronet.' "'I see. You infer that she may have gone out to tell her sweetheart, and that the two may have planned the robbery.' "'What is the good of all these vague theories?' cried the banker patiently, when I have told you that I saw Arthur with the coronet in his hands.' "'Wait a little, Mr. Holder. We must come back to that.' "'About this girl, Miss Holder, you saw her return by the kitchen door, I presume?' "'Yes. When I went to see if the door was fastened for the night, I met her slipping in. I saw the man, too, in the gloom.' "'Do you know him?' "'Oh, yes. He is the greengrocer who brings our vegetables round. His name is Francis Prosper.' "'He's stood,' said Holmes, to the left of the door, that is to say, farther up the path than is necessary to reach the door.' "'Yes, he did.' "'And he is a man with a wooden leg.' "'Something like fear sprang up in the young lady's expressive black eyes.' "'Why, you are like a magician,' said she. "'How do you know that?' She smiled, but there was no answering smile in Holmes' thin, eager face. "'I should be very glad now to go upstairs,' said he. "'I shall probably wish to go over the outside of the house again. Perhaps I had better take a look at the lower windows before I go up.' He walked swiftly round from one to the other, pausing only at the large one which looked from the hall onto the stable lane. This he opened, and made a very careful examination of the sill with his powerful magnifying lens. "'Now we shall go upstairs,' said he at last. The banker's dressing-room was a plainly furnished little chamber with a grey carpet, a large bureau, and a long mirror. Holmes went to the bureau first and looked hard at the lock. "'Which key was used to open it?' he asked. "'That which my son himself indicated, that of the cupboard of the lumber-room.' "'Have you it here?' "'That is it on the dressing-table.' Sherlock Holmes took it up and opened the bureau. "'It is a noiseless lock,' said he. "'It is no wonder that it did not wake you. "'This case, I presume, contains the coronet. "'We must have a look at it.' He opened the case and, taking out the diadem, he laid it upon the table. "'It was a magnificent specimen of the jeweller's art, and the thirty-six stones were the finest that I have ever seen. "'At one side of the coronet was a cracked edge, where a corner-holding three gems had been torn away.' "'Now, Mr. Holder,' said Holmes, "'here is the corner which corresponds to that which has been so unfortunately lost. "'Might I beg that you will break it off?' The banker recoiled in horror. "'I should not dream of trying,' said he. "'Then I will.' Holmes suddenly bent his strength upon it, but without result. "'I feel it give the little,' said he. "'But though I am exceptionally strong in the fingers, "'it would take me all my time to break it. "'An ordinary man could not do it. "'Now, what do you think would happen if I did break it, Mr. Holder? "'There would be a noise like a pistol-shot. "'Do you tell me that all this happened within a few yards of your bed, "'and that you heard nothing of it? "'I do not know what to think. It is all dark to me.' "'But perhaps it may grow lighter as we go. "'What do you think, Miss Holder?' "'I confess that I still share my uncle's perplexity.' "'Your son had no shoes or slippers on when you saw him. "'He had nothing on save only his trousers and shirt.' "'Thank you. "'We have certainly been favoured with extraordinary luck "'during this inquiry, "'and it will be entirely our own fault "'if we do not succeed in clearing the matter up. "'With your permission, Mr. Holder, "'I shall now continue my investigations outside.'" He went alone at his own request, for he explained that any unnecessary footmarks might make his task more difficult. For an hour or more he was at work, returning at last with his feet heavy with snow and his features as inscrutable as ever. "'I think that I have seen now all that there is to see, Mr. Holder,' said he. "'I can serve you best by returning to my rooms.' "'But the gems, Mr. Holmes, where are they?' "'I cannot tell.' The banker rung his hands. "'I shall never see them again,' he cried. "'And, my son, you give me hopes?' "'My opinion is in no way altered.' "'Then, for God's sake, "'what was this dark business which was acted in my house last night?' "'If you can call upon me at my Baker Street rooms "'tomorrow morning between nine and ten, "'I shall be happy to do what I can to make it clearer. "'I understand that you give me carte blanche to act for you, "'provided only that I get back the gems, "'and that you place no limit on the sum I may draw. "'I would give my fortune to have them back.' "'Very good. "'I shall look into the matter between this and then. "'Goodbye. "'It is just possible that I may have to come over here again "'before evening.' "'It was obvious to me that my companion's mind "'was now made up about the case, "'although what his conclusions were "'was more than I could even dimly imagine. "'Several times during our homeward journey "'to sound him upon the point, "'but he always glided away to some other topic "'until at last I gave it over in despair. "'It was not yet three when we found ourselves "'in our rooms once more. "'He hurried to his chamber "'and was down again in a few minutes "'dressed as a common loafer. "'With his collar turned up, "'his shiny, seedy coat, "'his red cravat and his worn boots, "'he was a perfect sample of the class. "'I think that this should do,' "'said he, glancing into the glass above the fireplace. "'I only wish that you could come with me, Watson, "'but I fear that it won't do. "'I may be on the trail in this matter, "'or I may be following a will of the wisp, "'but I shall soon know which it is. "'I hope that I may be back in a few hours.' "'He cut a slice of beef from the joint upon the sideboard, "'sandwiched it between two rounds of bread, "'and thrusting this rude meal into his pocket. "'He started off upon his expedition. "'I had just finished my tea "'when he returned evidently in excellent spirits, "'swinging an old elastic-sided boot in his hand. "'He chucked it down into a corner "'and helped himself to a cup of tea. "'I only looked in as I passed,' said he. "'I am going right on.' "'Where to?' "'Oh, to the other side of the West End. "'It may be some time before I get back. "'Don't wait up for me in case I should be late.' "'How are you getting on?' "'Oh, so-so. "'Nothing to complain of. "'I have been out to stratum since I saw you last, "'but I did not call at the house. "'It is a very sweet little problem, "'and I would not have missed it for a good deal. "'However, I must not sit gossiping here, "'but must get these disreputable clothes off "'to turn to my highly respectable self. "'I could see by his manner that he had stronger reasons "'for satisfaction than his words alone would imply. "'His eyes twinkled, "'and there was even a touch of colour upon his shallow cheeks. "'He hastened upstairs, "'and a few minutes later I heard the slam of the hall door, "'which told me that he was off once more "'upon his congenial hunt. "'I waited until midnight, "'but there was no sign of his return, "'so I retired to my room. "'It was no uncommon thing for him to be away for days "'and nights on end when he was hot upon ascent, "'so that his lateness caused me no surprise. "'I do not know at what hour he came in, "'but when I came down to breakfast in the morning, "'there he was, with a cup of coffee in one hand "'and the paper in the other, as fresh and trim as possible. "'You will excuse my beginning without you, Watson,' said he, "'but you'll remember that our client "'has rather an early appointment this morning.' "'Why, it is after nine now,' I answered. "'I should not be surprised if that were he. "'I thought I heard a ring.' "'It was indeed our friend the financier. "'I was shocked by the change which had come over him. "'For his face, which was naturally of a broad and massive mould, "'was now pinched and fallen in, "'while his hair seemed to me at least a shade whiter. "'He entered with awareness and lethargy, "'which was even more painful than his violence "'of the morning before, "'and he dropped heavily into the armchair "'which I pushed forward for him. "'I do not know what I have done to be so severely tried,' said he. "'Only two days ago I was a happy and prosperous man "'without a care in the world. "'Now I am left to a lonely and dishonoured age. "'One sorrow comes close upon the heels of another. "'My niece Mary has deserted me.' "'Deserted you?' "'Yes. "'Her bed this morning had not been slept in. "'Her room was empty, "'and a note for me lay upon the hall-table. "'I had said to her last night in sorrow and not in anger "'that if she had married my boy all might have been well with him. "'Perhaps it was thoughtless of me to say so. "'It is to that remark that she refers in this note. "'My dearest uncle, "'I feel that I have brought trouble upon you "'and that if I had acted differently "'this terrible misfortune might never have occurred. "'I cannot, with this thought in my mind, "'ever again be happy under your roof, "'and I feel that I must leave you for ever. "'Do not worry about my future, for that is provided for. "'And above all, do not search for me, "'for it will be fruitless labour and an ill service to me. "'In life or in death, I am ever your loving Mary.'" What could she mean by that note, Mr. Holmes? Do you think it points to suicide? No, no. Nothing of the kind. It is perhaps the best possible solution. I trust, Mr. Holder, that you are nearing the end of your troubles. Huh! You say so. You have heard something, Mr. Holmes. You have learned something. Where are the gems? You would not think a thousand pounds a piece an excessive sum for them? I would pay ten. That would be unnecessary. Three thousand will cover the matter. And there is a little reward, I fancy. Have view your cheque-book. Here is a pen. Better make it out for four thousand pounds. With a dazed face the banker made out the required cheque. Holmes walked over to his desk, took out a little triangular piece of gold with three gems in it, and threw it down upon the table. With a shriek of joy our client clutched it up. You have it, he gasped. I am saved. I am saved. The reaction of joy was as passionate as his grief had been, and he hugged his recovered gems to his bottom. There is one other thing you owe, Mr. Holder, said Sherlock Holmes rather sternly. Oh! he caught up a pen. Name the sum, and I will pay it. No! the debt is not to me. You owe a very humble apology to that noble lad, your son, who has carried himself in this matter, as I should be proud to see my own son do, should I ever chance to have one. Then it was not our though took them. I told you yesterday, and I repeat today, that it was not. You are sure of it. Then let us hurry to him at once to let him know that the truth is known. He knows it already. When I had cleared it all up, I had an interview with him, and finding that he would not tell me the story, I told it to him, on which he had to confess that I was right, and to add the very few details which were not yet quite clear to me. Your news of this morning, however, may open his lips. For heaven's sake, tell me then, what is this extraordinary mystery? I will do so, and I will show you the steps by which I reached it. And let me say to you first that which it is hardest for me to say, and for you to hear. There has been an understanding between Sir George Bernwell and your niece Mary. They have now fled together. My Mary? Impossible! It is unfortunately more than possible. It is certain. Neither you nor your son knew the true character of this man when you admitted him into your family circle. He is one of the most dangerous men in England, a ruined gambler, an absolutely desperate villain, a man without heart or conscience. Your niece knew nothing of such men. When he breathed his vows to her, as he had done to a hundred before her, she flattered herself that she alone had touched his heart. The devil knows best what he said, but at least she became his tool and was in the habit of seeing him nearly every evening. I cannot and I will not believe it! cried the banker with an ashen face. I will tell you then what occurred in your house last night. Your niece, when you had, as she thought, gone to your room, slipped down and talked to her lover through the window which leads into the stable lane. His footmarks had pressed right through the snow so long had he stood there. She told him of the coronet. His wicked lust for gold kindled at the news, and he bent her to his will. I have no doubt that she loved you. But there are women in whom the love of a lover extinguishes all other loves, and I think that she must have been one. She had hardly listened to his instructions when she saw you coming downstairs, on which she closed the window rapidly and told you about one of the servants escapade with her wooden-legged lover, which was all perfectly true. Your boy Arthur went to bed after his interview with you, but he slept badly on account of his uneasiness about his club debts. In the middle of the night he heard a soft tread pass his door, so he rose and, looking out, was surprised to see his cousin walking very stealthily along the passage until she disappeared into your dressing-room. Petrified with astonishment, the lad slipped on some clothes and waited there in the dark to see what would come of this strange affair. Presently she emerged from the room again, and in the light of the passage-lamp your son saw that she carried the precious coronet in her hands. She passed down the stairs, and he, thrilling with horror, ran along and slipped behind the curtain near your door, whence he could see what passed in the hall beneath. He saw her stealthily open the window, hand out the coronet to someone in the gloom, and then, closing it once more, hurry back to her room, passing quite close to where he stood hid behind the curtain. As long as she was on the scene he could not take any action without a horrible exposure of the woman whom he loved. But the instant that she was gone he realized how crushing a misfortune this would be for you and how all-important it was to set it right. He rushed down just as he was in his bare feet, opened the window, sprang out into the snow, and ran down the lane where he could see a dark figure in the moonlight. Sir George Bernwell tried to get away, but Arthur caught him, and there was a struggle between them, your lad tugging at one side of the coronet and his opponent at the other. In the scuffle your son struck, Sir George, and cut him over the eye. Then something suddenly snapped, and your son, finding that he had the coronet in his hands, rushed back, closed the window, ascended to your room, and had just observed that the coronet had been twisted in the struggle and was endeavouring to straighten it when you appeared on the scene. Is it possible? gasped the banker. Hugh then roused his anger by calling him names at a moment when he felt he had deserved your warmest tanks. He could not explain the true state of affairs without betraying one who certainly deserved little enough consideration at his hands. He took the more chivalrous view, however, and preserved her secret. And that was why she shrieked and fainted when she saw the coronet, cried Mr. Holder. Oh, my! God what a blind fool I have been! And his asking to be allowed to go out for five minutes, the dear fellow wanted to see if the missing piece were at the scene of the struggle. How cruelly I had misjudged him! When I arrived at the house, continued Holmes, I at once went very carefully round it to observe if there were any traces in the snow which might help me. I knew that none had fallen since the evening before, and also that there had been a strong frost to preserve impressions. I passed along the tradesman's path, but found it all trampled down and indistinguishable. Just beyond it, however, at the far side of the kitchen door a woman had stood and talked with a man whose round impressions on one side showed that he had a wooden leg. I could even tell that they had been disturbed for the woman had run back swiftly to the door as was shown by the deep toe and light heel marks while wooden leg had waited a little and then had gone away. I thought at the time that this might be the maid and her sweetheart of whom you had already spoken to me and inquiry showed it was so. I passed round the garden without seeing anything more than random tracks which I took to be the police, but when I got into the staple lane a very long and complex story was written in the snow in front of me. There was a double line of tracks of a booted man and a second double line which I saw with delight which belonged to a man with naked feet. I was at once convinced from what you had told me that the latter was your son. The first had walked both ways but the other had run swiftly and as his tread was marked in places over the depression of the boot it was obvious that he had passed after the other. I looked him up and found they led to the whole window where boots had worn all the snow away while waiting. Then I walked to the other end which was a hundred yards or more down the lane. I saw where boots had faced round where the snow was cut up as though there had been a struggle and finally where a few drops of blood had fallen showed me that I was not mistaken. Boots had then run down the lane and another little smudge of blood showed that it was he who had been hurt. When he came to the high road at the other end I found that the pavement had been cleared so there was an end to that clue. On entering the house, however, I examined, as you remember, the sill and framework of the whole window with my lens and I could at once see that someone had passed out. I could distinguish the outline of an instep where the wet foot had been placed in coming in. I was then beginning to be able to form an opinion as to what had occurred. A man had waited outside the window someone had brought the gems. The deed had been overseen by your son he had pursued the thief had struggled with him. They had each tugged at the coronet their united strength causing injuries which neither alone could have affected. He had returned with the prize but had left a fragment in the grasp of his opponent. So far I was clear. The question now was who was the man and who was it brought him the coronet? It is an old maxim of mine that when you have excluded the impossible whatever remains, however improbable must be the truth. Now I knew that it was not you who had brought it down so there only remained your niece and the maids. But if it were the maids why should your son allow himself to be accused in their place? There could be no possible reason. As he loved his cousin however there was an excellent explanation why he should retain her secret the more so as the secret was a disgraceful one. When I remembered that you had seen her at that window and how she had fainted on seeing the coronet again my conjecture became a certainty and who could it be who was her confederate? A lover evidently for who else could outweigh the love and gratitude which she must feel to you? I knew that you went out little and that your circle of friends was a very limited one but among them was Sir George Bernwell. I had heard of him before being a man of evil reputation among women. It must have been he who wore those boots and retained the missing gems. Even though he knew that Arthur had discovered him he might still flatter himself that he was safe for the lad could not say a word without compromising his own family. Well your own good sense will suggest what measures I took next. I went in the shape of a loafer to Sir George's house managed to pick up an acquaintance with his valet learned that his master had cut his head the night before and finally at the expense of six shillings made all sure by buying a pair of his cast-off shoes. With these I journeyed down to Stretham and saw that they exactly fitted the tracks. I saw an ill-dressed vagabond in the lane yesterday evening, said Mr. Holder. Precisely it was I. I found that I had my man so I came home and changed my clothes. It was a delicate part which I had to play then for I saw that a prosecution must be avoided to avert scandal and I knew that so a stutter villain would see that our hands were tied in the matter. I went and saw him. At first of course he denied everything but when I gave him every particular that had occurred he tried to bluster and took down a life-preserver from the wall. I knew my man, however, and I clapped a pistol to his head before he could strike. Then he became a little more reasonable. I told him that we would give him a price for the stones he held, a thousand pounds apiece. That brought out the first signs of grief that he had shown. My dash it all, said he. I've let him go at six hundred for the three. I soon managed to get the address of the receiver who had them on promising him that there would be no prosecution. Off I set to him and after much chaffering I got our stones at a thousand pounds apiece. Then I looked in upon your son, told him that all was right and eventually got to my bed about two o'clock after what I may call a really hard day's work. A day which has saved England from a great public scandal, the banker rising. Sir, I cannot find words to thank you, but you shall not find me ungrateful for what you have done. Your skill has indeed exceeded all that I have heard of it. And now I must fly to my dear boy to apologise to him for the wrong which I have done him. As to what you tell me of poor Mary, it goes to my very heart. Not even your skill can inform me where she is now. I think that we may safely say, returned Holmes, that she is wherever Sir George Bernwell is. It is equally certain, too, that whatever her sins are they will soon receive a more than sufficient punishment. End of Adventure 11 Adventure 12 of the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by Ruth Golding. Adventure 12. The Adventure of the Copper Beaches To the man who loves art for its own sake, remarked Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily Telegraph, it is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me to observe, Watson, that you have so far grasped this truth that in these little records of our cases you have been good enough to draw up, and, I am bound to say, occasionally to embellish, you have given prominence not so much to the many cause celebre and sensational childs in which I have figured, but rather to those incidents which may have been trivial in themselves, but which have given room for those faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis which I have made my special province. And yet, said I, smiling, I cannot quite hold myself absolved from the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my records. You have erred, perhaps. He observed taking up a glowing cinder with the tongs, and lighting with it the long cherry wood pipe which was wont to replace his clay when he was in a disputatious rather than a meditative mood. You have erred, perhaps, in attempting to put colour and life into each of your statements, instead of confining yourself to the task of placing upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect which is really the only notable feature about the thing. It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter, I remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism which I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my friend's singular character. No, it is not selfishness or conceit, said he answering as was his wont my thoughts rather than my words. If I claim full justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing, a thing beyond myself. Crime is common, logic is rare, therefore it is upon the logic rather than upon the crime that you should dwell. You have degraded what should have been a course of lectures into a series of tales. It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after breakfast on either side of a cheery fire in the old room at Baker Street. A thick fog rolled down between the lines of done-coloured houses and the opposing windows loomed like dark shapeless blurs through the heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit and shone on the white cloth and glimmer of china and metal, for the table had not been cleared yet. Sherlock Holmes had been silent all the morning, dipping continuously into the advertisement columns of a succession of papers, until at last having apparently given up his search, he had emerged in no very sweet temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings. At the same time, he remarked after a pause during which he had sat puffing at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, you can hardly be open to a charge of sensationalism, for out of these cases which you have been so kind as to interest yourself in, a fair proportion do not treat of crime in its legal sense at all. The small matter in which I endeavoured to help the King of Bohemia, the singular experience of Miss Mary's Sutherland, the problem connected with the man with the twisted lip and the incident of the noble bachelor were all matters which are outside the pale of the law. But in avoiding the sensational I fear that you may have bordered on the trivial. The end may have been so, I answered, but the methods I hold to have been novel and of interest. Sherlock, my dear fellow, what to the public, the great unobservant public who could hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a compositor by his left thumb care about the finer shades of analysis and deduction. But indeed, if you are trivial, I cannot blame you for the days of the great cases have passed. Man, or at least criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As to my own little practice it seems to be degenerating into an agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies from boarding schools. I think that I have touched bottom at last, however. This note I had this morning that's my zero point, I fancy. Read it. He tossed a crumpled letter across to me. It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding evening and ran thus. Dear Mr. Holmes, I am very anxious to consult you as to whether I should or should not accept a situation which has been offered to me as governess. I shall call at half-past ten tomorrow if I do not inconvenience you, yours faithfully, violet hunter. Do you know the young lady? I asked. Not I. It is half-past ten now. Yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring. It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You remember that the affair of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to be a mere whim at first, developed into a serious investigation. It may be so in this case also. Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved, for here, unless I am much mistaken, is the person in question. As he spoke the door opened and a young lady entered the room. She was plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, freckled like a plover's egg, and with the brisk manner of a woman who has had her own way to make in the world. You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure," said she as my companion rose to greet her. But I have had a very strange experience, and as I have no parents or relations of any sort from whom I could ask advice, I thought that perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what I should do. Pray take a seat, Miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything that I can to serve you. I could see that Holmes was favourably impressed by the manner and speech of his new client. He looked her over in his searching fashion, and then composed himself with his lids drooping and his fingertips together to listen to her story. I have been a governess for five years," said she, in the family of Colonel Spence Monroe. But two months ago the Colonel received an appointment at Halifax in Nova Scotia, and took his children over to America with him, so that I found myself without a situation. I advertised, and I answered advertisements, but without success. At last the little money which I had saved began to run short, and I was at my wit's end as to what I should do. There is a well-known agency for governesses in the West End called Westerways, and there I used to call about once a week in order to see whether anything had turned up which might suit me. Westerway was the name of the founder of the business, but it is really managed by Miss Stoper. She sits in her own little office, and the ladies who are seeking employment wait in an anti-room, and are then shown in one by one when she consults her ledgers, and sees whether she has anything which would suit them. Well, when I called last week I was shown into the little office as usual, but I found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A prodigiously stout man with a very smiling face and a great heavy chin which rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat sat at her elbow with a pair of glasses on his nose looking very earnestly at the ladies who entered. As I came in he gave quite a jump in his chair and turned quickly to Miss Stoper. That will do, said he. I could not ask for anything better, capital, capital. He seemed quite enthusiastic and rubbed his hands together in the most genial fashion. He was such a comfortable looking man that it was quite a pleasure to look at him. You are looking for a situation, Miss? He asked. Yes, sir. As governess. Yes, sir. And what salary do you ask? I had four pounds a month in my last place with Colonel Spence Monroe. Oh, tart, tart, sweating, rank-sweating! He cried, throwing his fat hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling passion. How could anyone offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with such attractions and accomplishments? My accomplishment, sir, may be less than you imagine, said I. A little French, a little German, music, and drawing. Tart, tart, he cried. This is all quite beside the question. The point is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment of a lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are not fitted for the rearing of a child who may some day play a considerable part in the history of the country. But if you have, why, then, how could any gentleman ask you to condescend to accept anything under the three figures? Your salary with me, madam, would commence at one hundred pounds a year. You may imagine, Mr. Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, such an offer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, however, seeing perhaps the look of incredulity upon my face, opened a pocket-book and took out a note. It is also my custom, said he, smiling in the most pleasant fashion until his eyes were just two little shining slits amid the white creases of his face. To advance to my young lady's half their salary beforehand, so that they may meet any little expenses of their journey and their wardrobe. It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so thoughtful a man. As I was already in debt to my tradesmen, the advance was a great convenience, and yet there was something unnatural about the whole transaction, which made me wish to know a little more before I quite committed myself. May I ask where you live, sir? said I. Hampshire, charming, rural place, the copper beaches, five miles on the far side of Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my dear young lady, and the dearest old country house. And my duty, sir, I should be glad to know what they would be. One child, one dear little romper, just six years old. Oh, if you could see him killing cockroaches with a slipper, smack, smack, smack, three gone before you could wink. I was a little startled at the nature of the child's amusement, but the father's laughter made me think that perhaps he was joking. My sole duty is, then, I asked. Are to take charge of a single child? No, no, not the sole, not the sole, my dear young lady. He cried. Your duty would be, as I am sure your good sense would suggest, to obey any little commands my wife might give, provided always that they were such commands as a lady might with propriety obey. You see no difficulty here. I should be happy to make myself useful. Quite so. In-dress now, for example. We are faddy people, you know, faddy but kind-hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress which we might give you, you would not object to our little whim, eh? No, said I, considerably astonished at his words. Or to sit here or sit there, that would not be offensive to you. Oh, no! Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us. I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, Mr. Holmes, my hair is somewhat luxuriant and of a rather peculiar tint of chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I could not dream of sacrificing it in this offhand fashion. I am afraid that that is quite impossible, said I. He had been watching me eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a shadow pass over his face as I spoke. I am afraid that is quite essential, said he. It is a little fancy of my wife's and ladies' fancies, you know, madam. Ladies' fancies must be consulted. And so you won't cut your hair? No, sir, I really could not, I answered firmly. Ah, very well. Then that quite settles the matter. It is a pity, because in other respects you would really have done very nicely. In that case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more of your young ladies. The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers without a word to either of us. But she glanced at me now, with so much annoyance upon her face, that I could not help suspecting that she had lost a handsome commission through my refusal. Do your desire your name to be kept upon the books?" she asked. If you please, Miss Stoper. Well, really it seems rather useless, since you refuse the most excellent offers in this fashion, said she sharply. You can hardly expect us to exert ourselves to find another such opening for you. Good day to you, Miss Hunter. She struck a gong upon the table, and I was shown out by the page. Well, Mr. Holmes, when I got back to my lodgings and found little enough in the cupboard, two or three bills upon the table, I began to ask myself whether I had not done a very foolish thing. After all, if these people had strange fads and expected obedience on the most extraordinary matters, they were at least ready to pay for their eccentricity. Very few governesses in England are getting one hundred pounds a year. Besides, what use was my hair to me? Many people are improved by wearing it short, and perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I was inclined to think that I had made a mistake, and by the day after I was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to go back to the agency and inquire whether the place was still open, when I received this letter from the gentleman himself. I have it here, and I will read it to you." The copper beach is near Winchester. Dear Miss Hunter, Miss Stoper has very kindly given me your address, and I write from here to ask you whether you have reconsidered your decision. My wife is very anxious that you should come, for she has been much attracted by my description of you. We are willing to give thirty pounds a quarter, or one hundred and twenty pounds a year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience which our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting, after all. My wife is fond of a particular shade of electric blue, and would like you to wear such a dress indoors in the morning. You need not, however, go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have one belonging to my dear daughter Alice, now in Philadelphia, where it would, I should think, fit you very well. Then as to sitting here or there, or amusing yourself in any manner indicated, that need cause you no inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no doubt a pity, especially as I could not help remarking its beauty during our short interview, but I am afraid that I must remain firm upon this point, and I only hope that the increased salary may recompense you for the loss. Your duties, as far as the child is concerned, are very light. Now do try to come, and I shall meet you with the dog-cart at Winchester. Let me know your train. Yours faithfully, Geoffroy Rue Castle. That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and my mind is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however, that, before taking the final step, I should like to submit the whole matter to your consideration. Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the question, said Holmes, smiling. But you would not advise me to refuse. I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to see a sister of mine apply for. What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes? Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself formed some opinion. Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr. Rue Castle seemed to be a very kind, good-natured man. Is it not possible that his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep the matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that he humours her fancies in every way in order to prevent an outbreak? That is a possible solution. In fact, as matters stand, it is the most probable one. But in any case, it does not seem to be a nice household for a young lady. But the money, Mr. Holmes, the money. Well, yes, of course the pay is good. Too good. That is what makes me uneasy. Why should they give you one hundred and twenty pounds a year, when they could have their pick for forty pounds? There must be some strong reason behind it. I thought that if I told you the circumstances, you would understand afterwards if I wanted your help. I should feel so much stronger if I felt that you were at the back of me. Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that your little problem promises to be the most interesting, which has come my way for some months. There is something distinctly novel about some of the features. If you should find yourself in doubt or in danger. Danger? What danger do you foresee? Holmes shook his head gravely. It would cease to be a danger if we could define it, said he. But at any time, day or night, a telegram would bring me down to your help. That is enough. She rose briskly from her chair with the anxiety all swept from her face. I shall go down to Hampshire quite easy in my mind now. I shall write to Miss Derue Castle at once, sacrifice my poor hair to-night, and start for Winchester to-morrow. With a few grateful words to Holmes, she baddised both good-night and bustled off upon her way. At least, said I, as we heard her quick-firm steps descending the stairs. She seems to be a young lady who is very well able to take care of herself. And she would need to be, said Holmes gravely. I am much mistaken if we do not hear from her before many days are past. It was not very long before my friend's prediction was fulfilled. A fortnight went by during which I frequently found my thoughts turning in her direction and wondering what strange side alley of human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual salary, the curious conditions, the light duties all pointed to something abnormal. Though whether a fad or a plot, or whether the man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond my powers to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat frequently for half an hour on end with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it. Data, data, data! he cried impatiently. I can't make bricks without clay! And yet he would always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever have accepted such a situation. The telegram which we eventually received came late one night, just as I was thinking of turning in, and Holmes was settling down to one of those all-night chemical researches which he frequently indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a test tube at night and find him in the same position when I came down to breakfast in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope and then glancing at the message through it across to me. Just look up the trains in Bradshaw, said he, and turned back to his chemical studies. The summons was a brief and urgent one. Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday tomorrow," it said. Do come. I am at my wit's end. Hunter. Will you come with me?" asked Holmes, glancing up. I should wish to. Just look it up, then. There is a train at half-past nine, said I, glancing over my Bradshaw. It is due at Winchester at eleven thirty. That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the morning. By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal spring day. A light blue sky afflicted with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the farmsteadings peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage. Are they not fresh and beautiful? I cried, with all the enthusiasm of a man fresh from the fox of Baker Street. But Holmes shook his head gravely. Do you know, Watson, said he, that it is one of the curses of a mind with a turn-like mind that I must look at everything with reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered houses and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there. Good heavens! I cried. Who would associate crime with these dear old homesteads? They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside. You horrify me! But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child or the thud of a drunkard's blow does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbours. And then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of complaint can set it going and there is but a step between the crime and the dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part with poor, ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on year in, year out in such places and none the wiser. Had this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I should never have had a fear for her. It is the five miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she is not personally threatened. Now, if she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away. Quite so, she has her freedom. What can be the matter then? Can you suggest no explanation? I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is correct can only be determined by the fresh information which we shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tar of the cathedral and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell. End of Part 1 of Adventure 12 The Adventure of the Copper Beaches Part 2 of Adventure 12 of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Adventure 12 The Adventure of the Copper Beaches Part 2 The black swan is an inn of repute in the high street at no distance from the station and there we found the young lady waiting for us. She had engaged a sitting-room and our lunch awaited us upon the table. I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. It is so very kind of you both, but indeed I do not know what I should do. Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me. Pray tell us what has happened to you. I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr. Rue Castle to be back before three. I got his leave to come into town this morning, though he little knew for what purpose. Let us have everything in its due order. Holmes thrust his long thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen. In the first place I may say that I have met on the whole with no actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rue Castle. It is only fair to them to say that. But I cannot understand them and I am not easy in my mind about them. What can you not understand? There are reasons for their conduct, but you shall have it all just as it occurred. When I came down Mr. Rue Castle met me here and drove me in his dog-cart to the Copper Beaches. It is, as he said, beautifully situated, but it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp and bad weather. Grounds round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourth a field which slopes down to the Southampton High Road, which curves past about a hundred yards from the front door. This ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all round are part of Lord Southerton's preserves. A clump of Copper Beaches immediately in front of the hall door has given its name to the place. I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. There was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to us to be probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rue Castle is not mad. I found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much younger than her husband, not more than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be less than forty-five. From their conversation I have gathered that they have been married about seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child, by the first wife, was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mr. Rue Castle told me in private that the reason why she had left them was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I can quite imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable with her father's young wife. Mrs. Rue Castle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as in feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. She was an an entity. It was easy to see that she was passionately devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light grey eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every little want and forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her also in his bluff, boisterous fashion, and on the whole they seemed to be a happy couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow, this woman. She would often be lost in deep thought with the saddest look upon her face. More than once I have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so utterly spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is small for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice, little birds and insects. But I would rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and indeed he has little to do with my story. I am glad of all details, remarked my friend, whether they seem to you to be relevant or not. I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one unpleasant thing about the house which struck me at once was the appearance and conduct of the servants. There are only two, a man and his wife. Toller, for that is his name, is a rough uncouth man with grizzled hair and whiskers and a perpetual smell of drink. Twice since I have been with them he has been quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rue Castle seemed to take no notice of it. His wife is a very tall and strong woman with a sour face, as silent as Mrs. Rue Castle and much less amiable. They are a most unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time in the nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in one corner of the building. For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beaches my life was very quiet. On the third Mrs. Rue Castle came down just after breakfast and whispered something to her husband. Oh, yes, said he, turning to me. We are very much obliged to you, Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric blue dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and if you would be so good as to put it on we shall both be extremely obliged. The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it bore unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr. and Mrs. Rue Castle expressed a delight at the look of it which seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting for me in the drawing-room, which is a very large room, stretching along the entire front of the house, with three long windows reaching down to the floor. A chair had been placed close to the central window, with its back turned towards it. In this I was asked to sit, and then Mr. Rue Castle, walking up and down on the other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Mrs. Rue Castle, however, who has evidently no sense of humour, never so much as smiled, but sat with her hands in her lap and a sad, anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so, Mr. Rue Castle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the day, and that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in the nursery. Two days later this same performance was gone through under exactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I sat in the window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny stories of which my employer had an immense repertoire, and which he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow-backed novel, and, moving my chair a little sideways, that my own shadow might not fall upon the page, he begged me to read aloud to him. I read for about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then suddenly in the middle of a sentence he ordered me to cease and to change my dress. You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to what the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly be. They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I soon devised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst of my laughter, I put my handkerchief up to my eyes, and was able, with a little management, to see all that there was behind me. I confess that I was disappointed, there was nothing. At least that was my first impression. At the second glance, however, I perceived that there was a man standing in the Southampton Road, a small bearded man in a grey suit who seemed to be looking in my direction. The road is an important highway, and there are usually people there. This man, however, was leaning against the railings which boarded our field, and was looking earnestly up. I lowered my handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rue Castle to find her eyes fixed upon me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing, but I am convinced that she had devised that I had a mirror in my hand, and had seen what was behind me. She rose at once. Jeffrell said she there is an impertinent fellow upon the road there who would stares up at Miss Hunter. No friend of yours, Miss Hunter? He asked. No, I know no one in these parts. Dear me, how very impertinent! Kindly turn round and motion to him to go away. Surely it would be better to take no notice. No, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn round and wave him away like that. I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rue Castle drew down the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have not sat again in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor seen the man in the road. Pray continue, said Holmes, your narrative promises to be a most interesting one. You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may prove to be little relation between the different incidents of which I speak. On the very first day that I was at the Copper Beaches, Mr. Rue Castle took me to a small out-house which stands near the kitchen door. As we approached it, I heard the sharp rattling of a chain, and the sound as of a large animal moving about. Look in here. Sit, Mr. Rue Castle, showing me a sit between two planks. Is he not a beauty? I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes, and of a vague figure huddled up in the darkness. Don't be frightened, said my employer, laughing at the start which I had given. It's only Carlo, my Mastiff. I call him mine, but rarely old Toller, my Groom, is the only man who can do anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, so that he is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness' sake, don't you ever on any pretext set your foot over the threshold at night, for it's as much as your life is worth. The warning was no idle one. For two nights later I happened to look out of my bedroom window about two o'clock in the morning. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in front of the house was silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was standing wrapped in the peaceful beauty of the scene when I was aware that something was moving under the shadow of the copper beaches. As it emerged into the moonshine I saw what it was. It was a giant dog as large as a calf, orny tinted with hanging jowl, black muzzle and huge projecting bones. It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished into the shadow upon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart, which I do not think that any burglar could have done. And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as you know, cut off my hair in London, and I had placed it in a great coil at the bottom of my trunk. One evening after the child was in bed I began to amuse myself by examining the furniture of my room and by rearranging my own little things. There was an old chest of drawers in the room, the two upper ones empty and open, the lower one locked. I had filled the first two with my linen, and as I had still much to pack away I was naturally annoyed at not having the use of the third drawer. It struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere oversight, so I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The very first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never guess what it was. It was my coil of hair. I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint and the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing obtruded itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in the drawer? With trembling hands I undid my trunk, turned out the contents, and drew from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two dresses together and I assure you that they were identical. Was it not extraordinary? Puzzle as I would I could make nothing at all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer and I said nothing of the matter to the roux castles as I felt that I had put myself in the wrong by opening a drawer which they had locked. I am naturally observant as you may have remarked, Mr. Holmes, and I soon had a pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. There was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters of the tollers opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked. One day, however, as I ascended the stair, I met Mr. Rue Castle coming out through this door, his keys in his hand, and a look on his face which made him a very different person to the round jovial man to whom I was accustomed. His cheeks were red, his brow was all crinkled with anger, and the veins stood out at his temples with passion. He locked the door and hurried past me without a word or a look. This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the grounds with my charge I strolled round to the side from which I could see the windows of this part of the house. There were four of them in a row, the three of which were simply dirty, while the fourth was shuttered up. They were evidently all deserted. As I strolled up and down, glancing at them occasionally, Mr. Rue Castle came out to me, looking as merry and jovial as ever. Ah! said he. You must not think me rude if I passed you without a word, my dear young lady. I was preoccupied with business matters. I assured him that I was not offended. By the way, said I, you seem to have quite a suite of spare rooms up there, and one of them has the shutters up. He looked surprised, and as it seemed to me, a little startled at my remark. Photography is one of my hobbies, said he. I have made my dark room up there. But, dear me, what an observant young lady we have come upon. Who would have believed it? Who would have ever believed it? He spoke in a jesting tone, but there was no jest in his eyes as he looked at me. I read suspicion there and annoyance, but no jest. Well, Mr. Holmes, from the moment that I understood that there was something about that suite of rooms, which I was not to know, I was all on fire to go over them. It was not mere curiosity, though I have my share of that. It was more a feeling of duty, a feeling that some good might come from my penetrating to this place. They talk of woman's instinct. Perhaps it was woman's instinct which gave me that feeling. At any rate, it was there, and I was keenly on the lookout for any chance to pass the forbidden door. It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that, besides Mr. Rue Castle, both Toller and his wife find something to do in these deserted rooms, and I once saw him carrying a large black linen bag with him through the door. Recently he has been drinking hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk. And when I came upstairs, there was the key in the door. I have no doubt at all that he had left it there. Mr. and Mrs. Rue Castle were both downstairs, and the child was with them, so that I had an admirable opportunity. I turned the key gently in the lock, opened the door, and slipped through. There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and uncarpeted, which turned at a right angle at the farther end. Round this corner were three doors in a line, the first and third of which were open. They each led into an empty room, dusty and cheerless, with two windows in the one and one in the other, so thick with dirt that the evening light glimmered dimly through them. The centre door was closed, and across the outside of it had been fastened one of the broad bars of an iron bed, padlocked at one end to a ring in the wall, and fastened at the other with stout cord. The door itself was locked as well, and the key was not there. This barricaded door corresponded clearly with the shuttered window outside, and yet I could see by the glimmer from beneath it that the room was not in darkness. Evidently there was a skylight which led in light from above. As I stood in the passage gazing at the sinister door, and wondering what secret it might veil, I suddenly heard the sound of steps within the room, and saw a shadow passed backward and forward against the little slit of dim light which shone out from under the door. A mad unreasoning terror rose up in me at the sight, Mr. Holmes, my overstrong nerves failed me suddenly, and I turned and ran, ran as though some dreadful hand were behind me, clutching at the skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage through the door, and straight into the arms of Mr. Rue Castle, who was waiting outside. So, said he, smiling, it was you then. I thought that it must be when I saw the door open. Oh, I am so frightened! I panted. My dear young lady, my dear young lady. You cannot think how caressing and soothing his manner was. And what has frightened you, my dear young lady? But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was keenly on my guard against him. I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing, I answered. But it is so lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was frightened and ran out again. Oh, it is so dreadfully still in there. Only that, said he, looking at me keenly. Why, what did you think? I asked. Why do you think that I lock this door? I am sure that I do not know. It is to keep people out who have no business there, do you see? He was still smiling in the most amiable manner. I am sure if I had known. Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over that threshold again. Here, in an instant, the smile hardened into a grin of rage. And he glared down at me with the face of a demon. I'll throw you to the mastiff. I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that I must have rushed past him into my room. I remember nothing until I found myself lying on my bed trembling all over him. Then I thought of you, Mr. Holmes. I could not live there longer without some advice. I was frightened of the house, of the man, of the woman, of the servants, even of the child. They were all horrible to me. If I could only bring you down, all would be well. Of course I might have fled from the house, but my curiosity was almost as strong as my fears. My mind was soon made up. I would send you a wire. I put on my hat and cloak, went down to the office, which is about half a mile from the house, and then returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible doubt came into my mind as I approached the door, lest the dog might be loose. But I remembered that Toller had drunk himself into a state of insensibility that evening. And I knew that he was the only one in the household who had any influence with the savage creature, or who would venture to set him free. I slipped in in safety, and lay awake half the night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. I had no difficulty in getting leave to come into Winchester this morning, but I must be back before three o'clock, before Mr. and Mrs. Rue Castle are going on a visit and will be away all the evening so that I must look after the child. Now I have told you all my adventures, Mr. Holmes, and I should be very glad if you could tell me what it all means, and, above all, what I should do." Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. My friend rose now and paced up and down the room, his hands in his pockets, and an expression of the most profound gravity upon his face. Is Toller still drunk? he asked. Yes, I heard his wife tell Mrs. Rue Castle that she could do nothing with him. That is well, and the Rue Castles go out tonight. Yes. Is there a cellar with a good strong lock? Yes, the wine cellar. You seem to me to have acted all through this matter, like a very brave and sensible girl, Miss Hunter. Do you think that you could perform one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not think you were quite exceptional woman. I will try. What is it? We shall be at the Copper Beaches by seven o'clock, my friend and I. The Rue Castles will be gone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be incapable. There only remains Mrs. Toller who might give the alarm. If you could send her into the cellar on some errand, and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate matters immensely. I will do it. Excellent. We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of course, there is only one feasible explanation. You have been brought there to personate someone, and the real person is imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious. As to who this prisoner is, I have no doubt that it is the daughter, Miss Alice Rue Castles, if I remember right, who was said to have gone to America. You were chosen darkness as resembling her in height, figure, and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off very possibly in some illness through which he has passed, and so, of course, yours had to be sacrificed also. By a curious chance you came upon her, Chesses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some friend of hers, possibly her fiancée. And, no doubt, as you wore the girl's dress and were so like her, he was convinced from your laughter whenever he saw you, and afterwards, from your gesture, that Miss Rue Castles was perfectly happy, and that she no longer desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at night to prevent him from endeavouring to communicate with her. So much is fairly clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition of the child. What on earth has that to do with it? I ejaculated. My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining light as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don't you see that the converse is equally valid? I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of parents, by studying their children. This child's disposition is abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty's sake. And whether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect, or from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their power. I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes, cried our client. A thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you have hit it. Oh! let us lose not an instant in bringing help to this poor creature. We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning man. We can do nothing until seven o'clock. At that hour we shall be with you, and it will not be long before we solve the mystery. We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we reached the copper beaches, having put up our trap at a wayside public house. The group of trees with their dark leaves shining like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun were sufficient to mark the house, even had Miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the doorstep. Have you managed it? asked Holmes. A loud, thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. That is Mrs. Toller in the cellar, said she. Her husband lies snoring on the kitchen-rock. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates of Mr. Rue Castle's. You have done well indeed, cried Holmes with enthusiasm. Now lead the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black business. We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a passage, and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss Hunter had described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the transverse bar. Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but without success. No sound came from within, and at the silent Holmes' face clouded over. I trust that we are not too late, said he. I think, Miss Hunter, that we had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put your shoulder to it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our way in. It was an old rickety door, and gave it once before our united strength. Together we rushed into the room. It was empty. There was no furniture save a little pallet bed, a small table, and a basket full of linen. The skylight above was open, and the prisoner gone. There has been some villainy here, said Holmes. This beauty has guessed Miss Hunter's intentions, and has carried his victim off. But how? Through the skylight we shall soon see how he managed it. He swung himself up onto the roof. Ah, yes, he cried. Here's the end of a long-light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did it. But it is impossible, said Miss Hunter. The ladder was not there when the root castles went away. He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were he who stare by here now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it would be as well for you to have your pistol ready. The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at the door of the room, a very fat and burly man with a heavy stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and confronted him. You thin, said he. Where's your daughter? The fat man cast his eyes round and then up at the open skylight. It is for me to ask you that. He shrieked. You thieves, spies and thieves, I have caught you, have I? You are in my power, I'll serve you." He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he could go. He's gone for the dog, cried Miss Hunter. I have my revolver, said I. Better close the front door, cried Holmes, and we all rushed down the stairs together. We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony with a horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to. An elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door. My God! he cried. Someone has lost the dog. It's not been fed for two days. Quick, quick, or it'll be too late. Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Toller hurrying behind us. There was the huge, famished brute, its black muzzle buried in Rue Castle's throat, while he writhed and screamed upon the ground. Running up I blew its brains out, and it fell over with its keen white teeth, still meeting in the great creases of his neck. With much labour we separated them, and carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house. We laid him upon the drawing-room sofa, and having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news to his wife, I did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him when the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room. Mrs. Toller cried, Miss Hunter. Yes, Miss, Mr. Rue Castle let me out when he came back before he went up to you. Ah, Miss, it is a pity you didn't let me know what you were planning, for I would have told you that your payments were wasted. Ah! said Holmes, looking keenly at her. It is clear that Mrs. Toller knows more about this matter than anyone else. Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell you what I know. Then pray, sit down, and let us hear it, for there are several points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark. I will soon make it clear to you, said she, and I'd have done so before now if I could have got out from the cellar. If there's police court business over this, you'll remember that I was the one that stood your friend, and that I was Miss Alice's friend, too. She was never happy at home, Miss Alice wasn't, from the time that her father married again. She was slighted like, and had no say in anything, but it never really became bad for her until after she met Mr. Fowler at a friend's house. As well as I could learn, Miss Alice had rights of her own by will, but she was so quiet and patient she was, that she never said a word about them, but just left everything in Mr. Rue Castle's hands. He knew he was safe with her, but when there was a chance of a husband coming forward, who would ask for all that the law would give him, then her father thought it time to put a stop on it. He wanted her to sign a paper, so that whether she married or not he could use her money. When she wouldn't do it, he kept on worrying her until she got brain fever, and for six weeks was at death's door. Then she got better at last, all worn to a shadow, and with her beautiful hair cut off. But that didn't make no change in her young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be. Ah! said Holmes, I think that what you have been good enough to tell us makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce all that remains. Mr. Rue Castle then, I presume, took to this system of imprisonment. Yes, sir. And brought Miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of the disagreeable persistence of Mr. Fowler. That was it, sir. But Mr. Fowler, being a persevering man, as a good seamen should be, blockaded the house, and having met you, succeeded by certain arguments, metallic or otherwise, in convincing you that your interests were the same as his. Mr. Fowler was a very kind-spoken free-handed gentleman, said Mrs. Toller serenely. And in this way, he managed that your good man should have no want of drink, and that a ladder should be ready at the moment when your master had gone out. You have it, sir, just as it happened. I am sure we owe you an apology, Mrs. Toller, said Holmes, for you have certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And here comes the country's surgeon and Mrs. Rue Castle. So I think, Watson, that we had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, as it seems to me that our Locust stand-eye now is rather a questionable one, and thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the copper beaches in front of the door. Mr. Rue Castle survived, but was always a broken man, kept alive solely through the care of his devoted wife. They still live with their old servants, who probably know so much of Rue Castle's past life that he finds it difficult to part from them. Mr. Fowler and Miss Rue Castle were married by special licence in Southampton, the day after their flight, and he is now the holder of a government appointment in the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather to my disappointment, manifested no further interest in her, when once she had ceased to be the centre of one of his problems. And she is now the head of a private school at Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success. End of AD 12 The Adventure of the Copper Beaches and End of the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Recording by Ruth Golding