The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes

brought, as it were, to my very door. It occurred after my withdrawal to my little Sussex home, when I had given myself up entirely to that soothing life of Nature for which I had so often yearne

g and of my eventual triumph against every difficulty! As it is, however, I must needs tell my tale in my own plain way,

ortuous path, which is steep and slippery. At the bottom of the path lie a hundred yards of pebbles and shingle, even when the tide is at full. Here and there, however, there are curves and hollows which m

ace, which contains some score of young fellows preparing for various professions, with a staff of several masters. Stackhurst himself was a well-known rowing Blue in his day, and an excellent all-roun

of which I speak the wind had abated, and all Nature was newly washed and fresh. It was impossible to work upon so delightful a day, and I strolled out before breakfast to enjoy the exquisi

Holmes! I thought I

or a swi

ing his bulging pocket. “Yes. McPherson star

e following rheumatic fever. He was a natural athlete, however, and excelled in every game which did not throw too gr

ve been fifty yards — and turned him on his back. He was obviously dying. Those glazed sunken eyes and dreadful livid cheeks could mean nothing else. One glimmer of life came into his face for an instant, and he uttered two or three words with an eager air of warning. They were slurred and indistinct, but

pair of canvas shoes. As he fell over, his Burberry, which had been simply thrown round his shoulders, slipped off, exposing his trunk. We stared at it in amazement. His back was covered with dark red lines as though he had been terribly flogged by a thin wire scourge. The instrument with which

life. He was looked upon as an oddity by the students, and would have been their butt, but there was some strange outlandish blood in the man, which showed itself not only in his coal-black eyes and swarthy face but also in occasional outbreaks of temper, which could only be described as ferocious. On one occasion, being plagued by a little dog belonging to McPherson, he had caught the crea

fellow! What can I

? Can you tell us

not on the beach at all. I have come s

ice-station at Fulworth.

t marl mixed with the chalk, and every here and there I saw the same footstep, both ascending and descending. No one else had gone down to the beach by this track that morning. At one place I observed the print of an open hand with the fingers towards the incline. This could only mean that poor McPherson had fallen as he ascended. There were rounded depressions, too, which suggested that he had come down upon his knees more than once. At the bottom of the path was the considerable lag

ing, or at any rate without drying himself. And the reason for his change of purpose had been that he had been scourged in some savage, inhuman fashion, tortured until he bit his lip through in his agony, and was left with only strength enough to crawl away and to die. Who had done this barbarous deed? There were, it is true, small grottos and caves in the base of the cliffs, but the low sun shone directly into them, and there was no place fo

e, and Ian Murdoch had just arrived with Anderson, the village constable, a big, ginger-moustached man of the slow, solid Sussex breed — a bre

This is a big thing for me to handle, and

be made, until they came. In the meantime I searched the dead man’s pockets. There were his handkerchief, a large knife, and a small folding ca

here, you m

UD

case and returned it with the other things to the pockets of the Burberry. Then, as nothing more suggested itself, I w

us and definite news. As I expected, nothing had been found in the small caves below the cliff, but he had examined the papers in McPherson’s desk and there we

doubt that it was a serious love affair. I see no reason, however, to connect it with

which all of you were in the

, “that several of the stude

mere c

nit his brow

ist upon some algebraic demonstration before breakfa

er that they we

has been as near to McPherson as he ever could be to anyo

er your telling me once about a qu

w over al

vindictive fe

sure they were

plore the matter of the

, who would draw attention everywhere. I knew that McPherson was attracted by her,

who i

athing-cots at Fulworth. He was a fisherman to start with, but is no

into Fulworth

at pre

le of that scourge, if indeed it was a scourge which inflicted the injuries. His circle of acquaintances in this lonely place was surely li

d witnessed. The village of Fulworth lies in a hollow curving in a semicircle round the bay. Behind the old-fashioned

the corner tower and slate roof. Not bad for a man w

as no mistaking that tall, angular, straggling figure. It was Ian Murd

sideways glance from his curious dark eyes, and wo

ou doing the

bordinate, sir, under your roof. I am not aware

all he had endured. Otherwise, perhaps, he would

our answer is pure impe

ight perhaps come un

ubordinate ways. It will certainly be the last. You will kindly

ve lost to-day the only person

ith angry eyes, stood glaring after him. “Is he

cape from the scene of the crime. Suspicion, vague and nebulous, was now beginning to take outline in my mind. Perhaps the visit to

flaming red beard. He seemed to be in a very angry

— “is of one mind with me that Mr. McPherson’s attentions to Maud were insulting. Yes, sir, the word ‘marriage’ was never mentioned, and yet there were

such a root and in such an atmosphere? Women have seldom been an attraction to me, for my brain has always governed my heart, but I could not look upon her perfect clear-cut face, with all the soft freshness of the do

dead,” she said. “Do not be af

yours let us know the new

er should be brought into the m

ly leave me to manage it in my own way. By all accounts there has been a crime commi

possessed strong character as well as great beauty. Maud Bellamy will always remain in my memory as a most

nd my help, whoever they may be.” It seemed to me that she

nct in such matters. You use the word ‘they.’

he was a brave and a strong man. No single person c

one word wit

ix yourself up in the matte

e helplessly. “

red privacy, but if your father will not allow it he must share the deliberations.” Then I spoke of the note which had been fo

ly kept it secret because Fitzroy’s uncle, who is very old and said to be dying, might

told us,” grow

er, if you had ev

icking up with men out

elling you. As to this appointment” — she fumbled in her dre

[ran the

t after sunset on Tuesday. It

.

, and I had meant t

. “This never came by p

hing to do with the matter which you are investigating. But

n our investigation. She had no reason to think that her fiance had an

r. Ian Murdoch

d and seem

ut that was all changed when he understood

rooms must be privately searched. Stackhurst was a willing collaborator, for in his mind also suspicions were forming.

superficial search of his room, but without result. Personally, I had gone over the whole ground again, both physically and mentally, but with no new conclusions. In all my chronicles the r

irst by that strange wireless by which such

bout Mr. McPherson’s do

onversations, but the wor

r. McPhers

ed of grief fo

old yo

ng for a week. Then to-day two of the young gentlemen from The Gables found it

n the very place”! Why should this lonely beach be fatal to it? Was it possible that it also had been sacrificed to some revengeful feud? Was it possible —? Yes, the perception was dim, but already someth

ool,” said one of them. “It must have

on the mat in the hall. The body was stiff and rigid, the eyes proje

ing light I could dimly make out the little dog’s spoor upon the sand round the very rock on which his master’s towel had been laid. For a long time I stood in deep meditation while the shadows grew darker around me. My mind was filled with racing thoughts. You have known what it was to be in

owledge without scientific system, but very available for the needs of my work. My mind is like a crowded box-room with packets of all sorts stowed away therein — so many that I may well have but a vague perception of what was there.

with a little chocolate and silver volume. Eagerly I turned up the chapter of which I had a dim remembrance. Yes, it was indeed a far-fetched and unlikely propositi

starting for the beach when_ I had a call from Inspector Bardle of the Sussex Constabulary — a ste

, of course, and need go no farther. But I am fairly up against it in thi

Mr. Ian

of it. That’s the advantage of this solitude. We narrow it dow

e you aga

er, as shown in the incident of the dog. The fact that he had quarrelled with McPherson in the past, and that there was some reason to think that he might h

y with all this evidence against him?” The burly

moment, and within a few minutes of McPherson’s appearance he came upon us from behind. Then bear in mind the absolute impossibility that he could single-handed

a scourge or flexibl

mined the mar

them. So ha

very carefully with a lens

they, Mr

ut an enlarged photograph. “This is

o things thoroug

et us consider this weal which extends round the

’t say

a dot of extravasated blood here, and another there. There are sim

o idea. H

ay more soon. Anything which will define what made tha

ed-hot net of wire had been laid across the back, then these better

ll we say a very stiff cat-o’-nine-t

olmes, I think

le. But your case is far too weak for an arrest. Bes

ndered whe

rne any resemblance to Murdoch — but it did not. He gav

alternative

re to discuss it until there is

n will t

ur — poss

his chin and looked a

in your mind, Mr. Holmes. Per

hey were t

of his? They were not too sweet upon Mr. McP

th a smile. “Now, Inspector, we each have our own work

e the tremendous interruption wh

ered into the room, pallid, dishevelled, his clothes in wild disorder, clawing with his bony hands

Stackhurst, hatless and panting, a

his last gasp. It was all I could do to bri

d himself up on one arm and swung his coat from his shoulders. “For God’s

he man’s naked shoulder, was the same strange reticulated pattern of r

dropped beads of sweat. At any moment he might die. More and more brandy was poured down his throat, each fresh dose bringing him back to life. Pads of cotton-wool soaked in salad-oil seemed to take the agony fr

but the moment we were assured of his

d, “what is it, H

id you f

ad been weak as McPherson‘s was, he would not be here now. More than once I thought

ee him on

threw some clothes about him, and brought him up. For heaven’s sake, Holmes, use all the powers you have and spare no pains to li

nd you, Inspector, come along! We will see if w

an file behind me. Most of the pool was quite shallow, but under the cliff where the beach was hollowed out it was four or five feet deep. It was to this part that a swimmer would naturally go, for it formed a beautiful pellucid green pool as clear as crystal. A

. “Cyanea! Behold

It lay upon a rocky shelf some three feet under the water, a curious waving, vibrating, hairy creature w

is over!” I cried. “Help me, Stackhu

ripples had cleared we saw that it had settled upon the ledge below. One flapping edge of yellow membrane showed that our vic

it, Mr. Holmes? I’m born and bred in these parts, but

it up. Come back to my house, both of you, and I will give you the terrible experience

y now and then was shaken by a paroxysm of pain. In broken words he explained that he had no notion what had occurred to

us observer, J. G. Wood. Wood himself very nearly perished from contact with this vile creature, so he wrote with a very full knowledge. Cyanea capillata

fibres, something like very large handfuls of lion’s mane and silver pa

acquaintance be mor

ture radiated almost invisible filaments to the distance of fifty feet, and that anyone within that circumfer

on closer examination resolved into minute dots or pustules, each dot ch

e explains, the least par

a bullet. The pulsation would cease, and then the heart would give

could hardly recognize himself afterwards, so white, wrinkled and shrivelled was his face. He gulped down brandy, a whole bottleful, and it seems to have s

you, Inspector, nor you, Mr. Holmes, for your suspicions were natural. I feel that on the

nd had I been out as early as I intended I might

d you know,

it somewhere in an unexpected context. You have seen that it does describe the creature. I have no doubt that it was floating on the water whe

end McPherson my one desire was to help her to happiness. I was well content to stand aside and act as their go-between. Often I carried their messages, and it was because I was in their confidence and because she was so dear to me that I hastened to tell her of my fri

st, Murdoch. We shall understand each other better in the future.” They passed out together with their

t last. “I had read of you, but I

d. To accept such praise was

thought to dry himself, and so I in turn was led to believe that he had never been in the water. Why, then, should the attack of any water creature suggest itself to me?