His Last Bow

sensationalism, while offering a fair field for his talents. It is, however, unfortunately impossible entirely to separate the sensational from the criminal, and a chronicler is left in the dilemma

notes of what proved to be a strange, tho

post. For myself, my term of service in India had trained me to stand heat better than cold, and a thermometer at ninety was no hardship. But the morning paper was uninteresting. Parliament had risen. Everybody was out of town, and I yearned for the glades of the New Forest or the shingle of Southsea. A depleted bank account had caused me to postpone my holiday, and as to my companion, neither the country nor th

aside the barren paper, and leaning back in my chair I fell into a

e. "It does seem a most prepost

izing how he had echoed the inmost thought of my soul, I

ed. "This is beyond anything

eartily at m

se reasoner follows the unspoken thoughts of his companion, you were inclined to treat the matter as a mere tour-de-for

, n

hrow down your paper and enter upon a train of thought, I was very happy to have the opportunity of

sions from the actions of the man whom he observed. If I remember right, he stumbled over a heap of stones, look

iven to man as the means by which he shall expres

you read my train of th

eyes. Perhaps you cannot yourself

I can

General Gordon, and I saw by the alteration in your face that a train of thought had been started. But it did not lead very far. Your eyes flashed across to the unframed portrait of Henry Ward Beecher which stands upon the t

ed me wonderfull

your passionate indignation at the way in which he was received by the more turbulent of our people. You felt so strongly about it that I knew you could not think of Beecher without thinking of that also. When a moment later I saw your eyes wander away from the picture, I suspected that your mind had now turned to the Civil War, and when I observed that your lips set, your eyes sparkled, and your hands clenched I was positive that you were indeed thinking of the gallantry which was shown by

at you have explained it, I confe

day. But I have in my hands here a little problem which may prove to be more difficult of solution than my small essay in thought reading. Have you obs

saw n

over to me. Here it is, under the financial column

n back to me and read the paragraph indi

l post from Belfast upon the morning before. There is no indication as to the sender, and the matter is the more mysterious as Miss Cushing, who is a maiden lady of fifty, has led a most retired life, and has so few acquaintances or correspondents that it is a rare event for her to receive anything through the post. Some years ago, however, when she resided at Penge, she let apartments in her house to three young medical students, whom she was obliged to get rid of on account of their noisy and irregular habits. The pol

finished reading. "Now for our friend Lestrade. I

large number of parcels were handed in upon that day, and they have no means of identifying this particular one, or of remembering the sender. The box is a half-pound box of honeydew tobacco and does not help us in any way.

to the heat and run down to Croydon with me

ng for somet

hem to order a cab. I'll be back in a moment when I ha

town. Holmes had sent on a wire, so that Lestrade, as wiry, as dapper, and as ferret-like as ever, was w

pped and tapped at a door, which was opened by a small servant girl. Miss Cushing was sitting in the front room, into which we were ushered. She was a placid-faced woman, with lar

hings," said she as Lestrade entered. "I wi

them here until my friend, Mr. Holmes,

my prese

ished to ask

questions when I tell you I kn

way. "I have no doubt that you have been annoye

for me to see my name in the papers and to find the police in my house. I won't have t

yellow cardboard box, with a piece of brown paper and some string. There was a bench at the end of the p

rked, holding it up to the light and sniffing at

been t

, remarked that Miss Cushing has cut the cord with a scissors, as

he importance,"

t the knot is left intact, and that

already made a note to that eff

ad-pointed pen, probably a J, and with very inferior ink. The word 'Croydon' has been originally spelled with an 'i,' which has been changed to 'y.' The parcel was directed, then, by a man - the printing is distinctly masculine - of limited education and unacquainted with the town of Croydon. So fa

e and I, bending forward on each side of him, glanced alternately at these dreadful relics and at the thoughtful,

rse," said he at last, "th

l joke of some students from the dissecting-rooms, it wo

this is not a

e sure

ey have been cut off with a blunt instrument, which would hardly happen if a student had done it. Again, carbolic or rectified spirits would be the preservatives which

had hardened his features. This brutal preliminary seemed to shadow forth some strange and inexplica

et and respectable life at Penge and here for the last twenty years. She has hardly been away from her home for a day during that time. Why on earth, then, shou

hursday morning. The tragedy, then, occurred on Wednesday or Tuesday or earlier. If the two people were murdered, who but their murderer would have sent this sign of his work to Miss Cushing? We may take it that the sender of the packet is the man whom we want. But he must have some strong reason for sending Miss Cushing this packet. What reason then? It must have been to tell her that the deed was done! or to pain her, perhaps. But in that case she knows who it is. Does she k

tions to ask Miss

other small business on hand. I think that I have nothing further

in the front room, where the impassive lady was still quietly working away at her antimacassar.

or me at all. I have said this several times to the gentleman from Scotland Yard, but he simply laughs

with singular intentness at the lady's profile. Surprise and satisfaction were both for an instant to be read upon his eager face, though when she glanced round to find out the cause of his silence he had becom

one or two

uestions!" cried Mis

wo sisters,

ld you k

of three ladies upon the mantelpiece, one of whom is undoubtedly yourself, while the

ight. Those are my si

our younger sister, in the company of a man who appears to be a ste

ry quick at

is my

was on the South American line when that was taken, but he was so fond of her that he c

Conqueror

ke drink when he was ashore, and a little drink would send him stark, staring mad. Ah! it was a bad day that ever he took a glass in his hand

tremely communicative. She told us many details about her brother-in-law the steward, and then wandering off on the subject of her former lodgers, the medical students, she ga

. "I wonder, since you are both maiden lad

roydon, and we kept on until about two months ago, when we had to part. I don't want to say

arrelled with your L

e has no word hard enough for Jim Browner. The last six months that she was here she would speak of nothing but his drin

think you said, at New Street Wallington? Good-bye, and I am very sorry that you should

ing as we came out,

Wallington

out a mi

as the case is, there have been one or two very instructive details in c

his face. Our driver pulled up at a house which was not unlike the one which we had just quitted. My companion ordered him to wait, and

ing at home?"

t severity. As her medical adviser, I cannot possibly take the responsibility of allowing anyone to see her. I shou

we can't," said H

not or would not

hat I have got all that I want. Drive us to some decent hotel, cabby, where we may have s

ive hundred guineas, at a Jew broker's in Tottenham Court Road for fifty-five shillings. This led him to Paganini, and we sat for an hour over a bottle of claret while he told me anecdote after anecd

r you, Mr. Hol

lanced his eyes over it, and crumpled it i

found out

und out ev

red at him in amazem

ocking crime has been committed, and I thi

he cri

the back of one of his visiting ca

at all in connection with the case, as I choose to be only associated with those crimes which present some difficulty in their solution. Come o

r,' we have been compelled to reason backward from effects to causes. I have written to Lestrade asking him to supply us with the details which are now wanting, and which he will only get after he has secured his man. That he may be

not complete,

f the revolting business is, although one of the victims still

, the steward of a Liverpool boa

more than a

e anything save very

serve and to draw inferences from our observations. What did we see first? A very placid and respectable lady, who seemed quite innocent of any secret, and a portrait which showed me that she had two younger sisters. It instantly flashed across my

ved that the knot was one which is popular with sailors, that the parcel had been posted at a port, and that the male ear was pierced for an earring whic

ell. In that case we should have to commence our investigation from a fresh basis altogether. I therefore went into the house with the intention of clearing up this point. I was about to assure Miss Cushing that I was convinc

wo short monographs from my pen upon the subject. I had, therefore, examined the ears in the box with the eyes of an expert and had carefully noted their anatomical peculiarities. Imagine my surprise, then, when on looking at Miss Cushing I p

the victim was a blood relation and probably a very close one. I began to talk to her abo

of this steward, married to the third sister, and learned that he had at one time been so intimate with Miss Sarah that she had actually gone up to Liverpool to be near the Browners, but a quarrel had afte

believe that his wife had been murdered, and that a man - presumably a seafaring man - had been murdered at the same time. Jealousy, of course, at once suggests itself as the motive for the crime. And why should these proofs of the deed be sent to Miss Sarah Cushing? Probably because during her residence in Liverpool she had som

e killed Mr. and Mrs. Browner, and the male ear might have belonged to the husband. There were many grave objections to this theory, but it was conceivable. I therefore sent off a telegram to

inging with it, and she alone could have understood for whom the packet was meant. If she had been willing to help justice she would probably have communicated with the police already. However, it was clearly our duty to see her, so we went. We found that the news of the

been closed for more than three days, and the neighbours were of opinion that she had gone south to see her relatives. It had been ascertained at the shipping offices that Browner had left aboard of the

he received a bulky envelope, which contained a short note from the detec

Holmes, glancing up at me. "Perhaps it

AR MR.

him seated upon a chest with his head sunk upon his hands, rocking himself to and fro. He is a big, powerful chap, clean-shaven, and very swarthy - something like Aldridge, who helped us in the bogus laundry affair. He jumped up when he heard my business, and I had my whistle to my lips to call a couple of river police, who were round the corner, but he seemed to have no heart in him, and he held out his hands quietly enough for the darbies. We brought him along to the cells, and his box as well, for we thought there might be something

very

LEST

ight when he first called us in. However, let us see what Jim Browner has to say for himself. This is his statemen

n sleep since I did it, and I don't believe I ever will again until I get past all waking. Sometimes it's his face, but most generally it's hers. I'm never without one or the other before me. He looks fr

like the beast that I was. But she would have forgiven me; she would have stuck as close to me as a rope to a block if that woman had never darkened our door. For Sarah Cushing loved me - that

ary was twenty-nine when I married. We were just as happy as the day was long when we set up house together, and in all Liverpool there was no better wom

, and all was as bright as a new dollar. My God, whoever would have t

way I saw a deal of my sister-in-law, Sarah. She was a fine tall woman, black and quick and fierce, with a proud way of carrying her head, and a g

ed up and down the room. "Can't you be happy for five minutes without Mary, Jim?" says she. "It's a bad compliment to me that you can't be contented with my society for so short a time." "That's all right, my lass," said I, putting out my hand towards her in a kindly way, but she had it in both hers in an instant, and they burned as if they

e queer and suspicious, wanting to know where I had been and what I had been doing, and whom my letters were from, and what I had in my pockets, and a thousand such follies. Day by day she grew queerer and more irritable, and we had ceaseless rows about nothing. I was fairly puzzled by it all. Sarah avoided me now, but she and Mary were just inseparable. I can see now how she was plotting and scheming and poison

he world and could talk of what he had seen. He was good company, I won't deny it, and he had wonderful polite ways with him for a sailor man, so that I think there must have been a time when he knew more of the poop than the

then I should have killed him, for I have always been like a madman when my temper gets loose. Mary saw the devil's light in my eyes, and she ran forward with her hands on my sleeve. "Don't, Jim, don't!" says she. "Where's Sarah?" I asked. "In the kitchen," says she. "Sarah," says I as I went in, "this man Fairbairn is never to darken my door again." "Why not?" says sh

Mary would go round to have tea with her sister and him. How often she went I don't know, but I followed her one day, and as I broke in at the door Fairbairn got away over the back garden wall, like the cowardly skunk that he was. I swore to my wife that I would kill her if I found

, as I understand, to live with her sister in Croydon, and things jogged on much

left the ship and came home, thinking what a surprise it would be for my wife, and hoping that maybe she would be glad to see me so soon. The thought was in my head as I turned into my own stree

I look back on it. I had been drinking hard of late, and the two things together fairly turned my brain. There's something t

soon at the railway station. There was a good crowd round the booking-office, so I got quite close to them without being seen. They took tickets for New Brighton. So did I, but I got in three carriages behind them. When we reache

out. He swore like a madman and jabbed at me with an oar, for he must have seen death in my eyes. I got past it and got one in with my stick that crushed his head like an egg. I would have spared her, perhaps, for all my madness, but she threw her arms round him, crying out to him, and calling him "Alec." I struck again, and she lay stretched beside him. I was like a wild beast then that had tasted blood. If Sarah had been there, by the Lord, she should have joined them. I pulled out my knife, and - well, there! I've said enough. It gav

se two faces staring at me - staring at me as they stared when my boat broke through the haze. I killed them quick, but they are killing me slow; and if I have another night of

le of misery and violence and fear? It must tend to some end, or else our universe is ruled by chance, which is unthinka