“Yes, sir, it is true that he threw the decanter at me. I heard himcall my mistress a name, and I told him that he would not dareto speak so if her brother had been there. Then it was that hethrew it at me. He might have thrown a dozen if he had but leftmy bonny bird alone. He was forever ill-treating her, and she tooproud to complain. She will not even tell me all that he has doneto her. She never told me of those marks on her arm that you sawthis morning, but I know very well that they come from a stabwith a hatpin. The sly devil—God forgive me that I should speakof him so, now that he is dead! But a devil he was, if ever onewalked the earth. He was all honey when first we met him—onlyeighteen months ago, and we both feel as if it were eighteen years.
She had only just arrived in London. Yes, it was her first voyage—she had never been from home before. He won her with his titleand his money and his false London ways. If she made a mistakeshe has paid for it, if ever a woman did. What month did we meethim? Well, I tell you it was just after we arrived. We arrived inJune, and it was July. They were married in January of last year.
Yes, she is down in the morning-room again, and I have no doubtshe will see you, but you must not ask too much of her, for she hasgone through all that flesh and blood will stand.”
Lady Brackenstall was reclining on the same couch, but lookedbrighter than before. The maid had entered with us, and beganonce more to foment the bruise upon her mistress’s brow.
“I hope,” said the lady, “that you have not come to cross-examineme again?”
“No,” Holmes answered, in his gentlest voice, “I will not causeyou any unnecessary trouble, Lady Brackenstall, and my wholedesire is to make things easy for you, for I am convinced that youare a much-tried woman. If you will treat me as a friend and trustme, you may find that I will justify your trust.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“To tell me the truth.”
“Mr. Holmes!”
“No, no, Lady Brackenstall—it is no use. You may have heard ofany little reputation which I possess. I will stake it all on the factthat your story is an absolute fabrication.”
Mistress and maid were both staring at Holmes with pale facesand frightened eyes.
“You are an impudent fellow!” cried Theresa. “Do you mean tosay that my mistress has told a lie?”
Holmes rose from his chair.
“Have you nothing to tell me?”
“I have told you everything.”
“Think once more, Lady Brackenstall. Would it not be better tobe frank?”
For an instant there was hesitation in her beautiful face. Thensome new strong thought caused it to set like a mask.
“I have told you all I know.”
Holmes took his hat and shrugged his shoulders. “I am sorry,”
he said, and without another word we left the room and the house.
There was a pond in the park, and to this my friend led the way. Itwas frozen over, but a single hole was left for the convenience of asolitary swan. Holmes gazed at it, and then passed on to the lodgegate. There he scribbled a short note for Stanley Hopkins, and leftit with the lodge-keeper.
“It may be a hit, or it may be a miss, but we are bound to dosomething for friend Hopkins, just to justify this second visit,”
said he. “I will not quite take him into my confidence yet. I thinkour next scene of operations must be the shipping office of theAdelaide-Southampton line, which stands at the end of Pall Mall, ifI remember right. There is a second line of steamers which connectSouth Australia with England, but we will draw the larger cover first.”
Holmes’s card sent in to the manager ensured instant attention,and he was not long in acquiring all the information he needed.
In June of ‘95, only one of their line had reached a home port. Itwas the ROCK OF GIBRALTAR, their largest and best boat.
A reference to the passenger list showed that Miss Fraser, ofAdelaide, with her maid had made the voyage in her. The boat wasnow somewhere south of the Suez Canal on her way to Australia.
Her officers were the same as in ‘95, with one exception. The firstofficer, Mr. Jack Crocker, had been made a captain and was to takecharge of their new ship, the BASS ROCK, sailing in two days’
time from Southampton. He lived at Sydenham, but he was likelyto be in that morning for instructions, if we cared to wait for him.
No, Mr. Holmes had no desire to see him, but would be glad toknow more about his record and character.
His record was magnificent. There was not an officer in thefleet to touch him. As to his character, he was reliable on duty,but a wild, desperate fellow off the deck of his ship—hot-headed,excitable, but loyal, honest, and kind-hearted. That was the pith ofthe information with which Holmes left the office of the Adelaide-Southampton company. Thence he drove to Scotland Yard, but,instead of entering, he sat in his cab with his brows drawn down,lost in profound thought. Finally he drove round to the CharingCross telegraph office, sent off a message, and then, at last, wemade for Baker Street once more.
“No, I couldn’t do it, Watson,” said he, as we reentered ourroom. “Once that warrant was made out, nothing on earth wouldsave him. Once or twice in my career I feel that I have done morereal harm by my discovery of the criminal than ever he had doneby his crime. I have learned caution now, and I had rather playtricks with the law of England than with my own conscience. Letus know a little more before we act.”
Before evening, we had a visit from Inspector Stanley Hopkins.
Things were not going very well with him.
“I believe that you are a wizard, Mr. Holmes. I really dosometimes think that you have powers that are not human. Now,how on earth could you know that the stolen silver was at thebottom of that pond?”
“I didn’t know it.”
“But you told me to examine it.”
“You got it, then?”
“Yes, I got it.”
“I am very glad if I have helped you.”
“But you haven’t helped me. You have made the affair far moredifficult. What sort of burglars are they who steal silver and thenthrow it into the nearest pond?”
