“That, and a deal more. I tell you, Watson, I’ve only known herthese few weeks, but from the first I just felt that she was madefor me, and she, too—she was happy when she was with me, andthat I’ll swear. There’s a light in a woman’s eyes that speaks louderthan words. But he has never let us get together, and it was onlyto-day for the first time that I saw a chance of having a few wordswith her alone. She was glad to meet me, but when she did it wasnot love that she would talk about, and she wouldn’t have let metalk about it either if she could have stopped it. She kept comingback to it that this was a place of danger, and that she would neverbe happy until I had left it. I told her that since I had seen her Iwas in no hurry to leave it, and that if she really wanted me to go,the only way to work it was for her to arrange to go with me. Withthat I offered in as many words to marry her, but before she couldanswer, down came this brother of hers, running at us with a faceon him like a madman. He was just white with rage, and thoselight eyes of his were blazing with fury. What was I doing with thelady? How dared I offer her attentions which were distasteful toher? Did I think that because I was a baronet I could do what Iliked? If he had not been her brother I should have known betterhow to answer him. As it was I told him that my feelings towardshis sister were such as I was not ashamed of, and that I hoped thatshe might honour me by becoming my wife. That seemed to makethe matter no better, so then I lost my temper too, and I answeredhim rather more hotly than I should perhaps, considering that shewas standing by. So it ended by his going off with her, as you saw,and here am I as badly puzzled a man as any in this county. Justtell me what it all means, Watson, and I’ll owe you more than everI can hope to pay.”
I tried one or two explanations, but, indeed, I was completelypuzzled myself. Our friend’s title, his fortune, his age, hischaracter, and his appearance are all in his favour, and I knownothing against him unless it be this dark fate which runs in hisfamily. That his advances should be rejected so brusquely withoutany reference to the lady’s own wishes and that the lady shouldaccept the situation without protest is very amazing. However, ourconjectures were set at rest by a visit from Stapleton himself thatvery afternoon. He had come to offer apologies for his rudenessof the morning, and after a long private interview with Sir Henryin his study, the upshot of their conversation was that the breachis quite healed, and that we are to dine at Merripit House nextFriday as a sign of it.
“I don’t say now that he isn’t a crazy man,” said Sir Henry; “Ican’t forget the look in his eyes when he ran at me this morning,but I must allow that no man could make a more handsomeapology than he has done.”
“Did he give any explanation of his conduct?”
“His sister is everything in his life, he says. That is naturalenough, and I am glad that he should understand her value. Theyhave always been together, and according to his account he hasbeen a very lonely man with only her as a companion, so thatthe thought of losing her was really terrible to him. He had notunderstood, he said, that I was becoming attached to her, butwhen he saw with his own eyes that it was really so, and that shemight be taken away from him, it gave him such a shock that fora time he was not responsible for what he said or did. He was verysorry for all that had passed, and he recognized how foolish andhow selfish it was that he should imagine that he could hold abeautiful woman like his sister to himself for her whole life. If shehad to leave him he had rather it was to a neighbour like myselfthan to anyone else. But in any case it was a blow to him, and itwould take him some time before he could prepare himself tomeet it. He would withdraw all opposition upon his part if I wouldpromise for three months to let the matter rest and to be contentwith cultivating the lady’s friendship during that time withoutclaiming her love. This I promised, and so the matter rests.”
So there is one of our small mysteries cleared up. It is somethingto have touched bottom anywhere in this bog in which we arefloundering. We know now why Stapleton looked with disfavourupon his sister’s suitor—even when that suitor was so eligible aone as Sir Henry. And now I pass on to another thread which Ihave extricated out of the tangled skein, the mystery of the sobs inthe night, of the tear-stained face of Mrs. Barrymore, of the secretjourney of the butler to the western lattice window. Congratulateme, my dear Holmes, and tell me that I have not disappointedyou as an agent—that you do not regret the confidence which youshowed in me when you sent me down. All these things have byone night’s work been thoroughly cleared.
I have said “by one night’s work,” but, in truth, it was by twonights’ work, for on the first we drew entirely blank. I sat up withSir Henry in his rooms until nearly three o’clock in the morning,but no sound of any sort did we hear except the chiming clockupon the stairs. It was a most melancholy vigil, and ended byeach of us falling asleep in our chairs. Fortunately we were notdiscouraged, and we determined to try again. The next night welowered the lamp and sat smoking cigarettes without making theleast sound. It was incredible how slowly the hours crawled by, andyet we were helped through it by the same sort of patient interestwhich the hunter must feel as he watches the trap into which hehopes the game may wander. One struck, and two, and we hadalmost for the second time given it up in despair, when in aninstant we both sat bolt upright in our chairs, with all our wearysenses keenly on the alert once more. We had heard the creak of astep in the passage.
