The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes

rk had been an exhausting one. My wife had already gone upstairs, and the sound of the locking of the hall door some time before told me that

our. A patient evidently, and possibly an all-night sitting. With a wry face I went out into t

hoped that I might not b

ellow, pra

’s no mistaking that fluffy ash upon your coat. It‘s easy to tell that you have been accustomed to wear a uniform, Watson. You’ll never

plea

one, and I see that you have no gentleman visito

elighted if y

o see that you’ve had the British workman in the h

the

m just where the light strikes it. No, thank you, I had some su

in silence. I was well aware that nothing but business of importance would have broug

y rather busy just now,” said he,

ay seem very foolish in your eyes,” I added,

uckled to

one you walk, and when it is a long one you use a hansom. As I perceive that your boots, although us

ent!” I

, depending as it does upon your retaining in your own hands some factors in the problem which are never imparted to the reader. Now, at present I am in the position of these same readers, for I hold in this hand several threads of one of the strangest cases which ever perplexed a man’s brain, and yet I lack the one or two which are needful to com

nterest. I have already looked into the matter, and have come, as I think, within sight of my s

d be del

s far as Alders

Jackson would t

to start by the 1

uld give

ill give you a sketch of what has hap

re you came. I am

. It is conceivable that you may even have read some account of the matter. It is the suppos

eard noth

t, except locally. The facts are only

ce that time distinguished itself upon every possible occasion. It was commanded up to Monday night by James Barclay, a gallant veteran, who started as a full

social friction when the young couple (for they were still young) found themselves in their new surroundings. They appear, however, to have quickly adapted themselves, and Mrs. Barclay has always, I understand, been as popular with the l

he thinks that Barclay’s devotion to his wife was greater than his wife’s to Barclay. He was acutely uneasy if he were absent from her for a day. She, on the other hand, though devoted and faithful, was less obtr

Major Murphy and three out of five of the other officers with whom I conversed was the singular sort of depression which came upon him at times. As the major expressed it, the smile has often been struck from his mouth, as if by some invisible hand, when he has been joining in the gaieties and chaff of the mess-table. For days on end, when the mood was on him, he h

g all this time occupied a villa called ‘Lachine,’ about half a mile from the north camp. The house stands in its own grounds, but the west side of it is not more than thirty yards from the highroad. A coac

ine between nine and ten on

A meeting of the Guild had been held that evening at eight, and Mrs. Barclay had hurried over her dinner in order to be present at it. When leaving the house she was heard by the coachman to make some commonplace remark to her husband, and to assure him that she would be ba

as into this room that Mrs. Barclay went upon her return. The blinds were not down, for the room was seldom used in the evening, but Mrs. Barclay herself lit the lamp and then rang the bell, asking Jane Stewart, the housemaid, to bring her a cup of tea

were audible to the listeners. The lady’s, on the other hand, were most bitter, and when she raised her voice could be plainly heard. ‘You coward!’ she repeated over and over again. ‘What can be done now? What can be done now? Give me back my life. I will never so much as breathe the same air with you again! You coward! You coward!’ Those were scraps of her conversation, ending in a sudden dreadful cry in the man’s voice, with a crash, and a piercing scream from the woman. Convinced that some tragedy had occurred, the coachman rushed to the door and strove to force it, while scream after scream issued from within. He was unable,

ide of the door, nor could he find it anywhere in the room. He went out again, therefore, through the window, and, having obtained the help of a policeman and of a medical man, he returned. The lady, against who

lub of hard carved wood with a bone handle. The colonel possessed a varied collection of weapons brought from the different countries in which he had fought, and it is conjectured by the police that this club was among his trophies. The servants deny having seen it before, but among the numerous curiosities in the house it is pos

shot to supplement the efforts of the police. I think that you will acknowledge that the problem was already one of intere

rrel she descended and returned with the other servants. On that first occasion, when she was alone, she says that the voices of her master and mistress were sunk so low that she could hardly hear anything, and judged by their tones rather than their words that

f assuming. More than one person fainted at the mere sight of him, so terrible was the effect. It was quite certain that he had foreseen his fate, and that it had caused him the utmost horror. This, of course, fitted in well enough with the police theory, if the colonel could have seen h

that evening with Mrs. Barclay, denied having any knowledge of what it

perfectly clear. Therefore a third person must have entered the room. And that third person could only have come in through the window. It seemed to me that a careful examination of the room and the lawn might possibly reveal some traces of this mysterious individual. You know my methods, Watson. There was not one of them which I did not apply to the inquiry. And it ended by my discovering traces, but very different ones from those which I had expected. There had bee

compa

sue-paper out of his pocket and ca

make of tha

ll animal. It had five well-marked footpads, an indication of long n

dog,”

up a curtain? I found distinct tra

nkey,

ot the print

an it b

to that the length of neck and head, and you get a creature not much less than two feet long — probably more if there is any tail. But now observe this other measurement. The animal has been moving, and we have the length of its stride. In each case it is only about thr

you dedu

cage was hanging in the window, and its a

at was t

he case. On the whole, it was probably some creature of the weasel and

it to do wit

om lighted. We know, also, that he ran across the lawn, entered the room, accompanied by a strange animal, and that he either struck the colonel or, as is equally possible, that the colonel

left the business more obscur

the matter over, and I came to the conclusion that I must approach the case from another aspect. But really,

have gone rather

as equally certain that, immediately on her return, she had gone to the room in which she was least likely to see her husband, had flown to tea as an agitated woman will, and finally, on his coming in to her, had broken into violent recriminations. Therefore something had occur

wn affection of the colonel for his wife to weigh against it, to say nothing of the tragic intrusion of this other man, which might, of course, be entirely disconnected with what had gone before. It was not easy to pick one’s steps, but, on the whole, I was inclined to dismiss the idea that there had been anything between the colonel and Miss Morrison, but more than ever convinced that the

wanting in shrewdness and common sense. She sat thinking for some time after I had spoken, and then, turning to

an really help her when so serious a charge is laid against her, and when her own mouth, poor darling, is closed

his back very bent, and something like a box slung over one of his shoulders. He appeared to be deformed, for he carried his head low and walked with his knees bent. We were passing him when he raised his face to look at us in the circle of light thrown by the lamp, and as he did so he

ad this thirty years, Henry,

ark, fearsome face, and a gleam in his eyes that comes back to me in my dreams. His hair and w

this man. There is nothing to be afraid of.” She tried to speak boldly, but she wa

I saw the crippled wretch standing by the lamp-post and shaking his clenched fists in the air as if he were mad with rage. She

, and I have never seen her since. I have told you now the whole truth, and if I withheld it from the police it is because I did not

spent a day in the search, and by evening — this very evening, Watson — I had run him down. The man’s name is Henry Wood, and he lives in lodgings in this same street in which the ladies met him. He has only been five days in the place. In the character of a registration-agent I had a most interesting gossip with his landlady. The man is by trade a conjurer and performer, going round the canteens after nightfall, and giving a little entertainment at each. He carries some creature about with him in that box, about which the landlady seemed t

followed them at a distance, that he saw the quarrel between husband and wife through the window, that he rushed in, and that the creature which he

intend to

but in the prese

am the

matter up, well and good. If he refuses, we h

now he’ll be ther

er him who would stick to him like a burr, go where he might. We shall find him in Hudson Street to

n spite of his capacity for concealing his emotions, I could easily see that Holmes was in a state of suppressed excitement, while I was myself ti

a short thoroughfare lined with plain two-storie

olmes,” cried a small str

come to see. In spite of the warm weather he was crouching over a fire, and the little room was like an oven. The man sat all twisted and huddled in his chair in a way which gave an indescribable impression of deformity; but the face

” said Holmes affably. “I’ve come over thi

ld I know

nless the matter is cleared up, Mrs. Barclay, who is an old f

ave a vio

w you come to know what you do know, but will

ing for her to come to h

you in the po

N

ss is it of

s business to se

my word that s

ou are

I am

olonel James

have had no more than his due from my hands. If his own guilty conscience had not struck him down it is likely enough that I might have had

s, at a place we’ll call Bhurtee. Barclay, who died the other day, was sergeant in the same company as myself, and the belle of the regiment, ay, and the finest girl that ever had the breath of life between her lips, was Nancy Devoy,

s lad, and he had had an education and was already marked for the sword-belt. But the girl held true to me

ther we could communicate with General Neill’s column, which was moving up-country. It was our only chance, for we could not hope to fight our way out with all the women and children, so I volunteered to go out and to warn General Neill of our danger. My offer was accepted, and I talked it over with Sergeant Barcla

the dark waiting for me. In an instant I was stunned with a blow and bound hand and foot. But the real blow was to my heart and not to my head, for as I came to and listened to as much as I could

rwards I was up past Darjeeling. The hill-folk up there murdered the rebels who had me, and I became their slave for a time until I escaped; but instead of going south I had to go north, until I found myself among the Afghans. There I wandered about for many a year, and at last came back to the Punjab, where I lived mostly among the natives and picked up a living by the conjuring tricks that I had learned. What use was it for me, a wretched cripple, to go back to

he hedges of England. At last I determined to see them before I died. I saved enough to bring me across, and the

cognition. You then, as I understand, followed her home and saw through the window an altercation between her husband and her, in which

nt with his head on the fender. But he was dead before he fell. I read death on his face as plain as

d t

it alone and get away, for the thing might look black against me, and anyway my secret would be out if I were taken. In my haste I thrust the key into my pocket, a

ddy?” ask

out there slipped a beautiful reddish-brown creature, thin and lithe, with the legs of a sto

ongoose,”

cher is what I call them, and Teddy is amazing quick on cobras. I have one here wit

her poi

ou again if Mrs. Barclay should

of course, I’

atisfaction of knowing that for thirty years of his life his conscience bitterly reproached him for his wicked deed. Ah, ther

rtake the major before

pose you have heard that all

t th

howed conclusively that death was due to apoplexy

, smiling. “Come, Watson, I don’t think w

e station. “If the husband’s name was James, and th

hole story had I been the ideal reasoner which you are so

repr

geant James Barclay. You remember the small affair of Uriah and Bathsheba? My Biblical knowledge is a