Roylott’s， the second my sister’s， and the third my own. There isno communication between them， but they all open out into thesame corridor. Do I make myself plain？”
“Perfectly so.”
“The windows of the three rooms open out upon the lawn.
That fatal night Dr. Roylott had gone to his room early， though weknew that he had not retired to rest， for my sister was troubled bythe smell of the strong Indian cigars which it was his custom tosmoke. She left her room， therefore， and came into mine， whereshe sat for some time， chatting about her approaching wedding.
At eleven o’clock she rose to leave me， but she paused at the doorand looked back.
“ ‘Tell me， Helen，’ said she， ‘have you ever heard anyone whistlein the dead of the night？’
“ ‘Never，’ said I.
“ ‘I suppose that you could not possibly whistle， yourself， in yoursleep？’
“ ‘Certainly not. But why？’
“ ‘Because during the last few nights I have always， about threein the morning， heard a low， clear whistle. I am a light sleeper， andit has awakened me. I cannot tell where it came from—perhapsfrom the next room， perhaps from the lawn. I thought that Iwould just ask you whether you had heard it.’
“ ‘No， I have not. It must be those wretched gipsies in theplantation.’
“ ‘Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn， I wonder that youdid not hear it also.’
“ ‘Ah， but I sleep more heavily than you.’
“ ‘Well， it is of no great consequence， at any rate.’ She smiledback at me， closed my door， and a few moments later I heard herkey turn in the lock.”
“Indeed，” said Holmes. “Was it your custom always to lockyourselves in at night？”
“Always.”
“And why？”
“I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor kept a cheetahand a baboon. We had no feeling of security unless our doors werelocked.”
“Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement.”
“I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling of impendingmisfortune impressed me. My sister and I， you will recollect， weretwins， and you know how subtle are the links which bind twosouls which are so closely allied. It was a wild night. The wind washowling outside， and the rain was beating and splashing againstthe windows. Suddenly， amid all the hubbub of the gale， thereburst forth the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knew thatit was my sister’s voice. I sprang from my bed， wrapped a shawlround me， and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my door Iseemed to hear a low whistle， such as my sister described， anda few moments later a clanging sound， as if a mass of metal hadfallen. As I ran down the passage， my sister’s door was unlocked，and revolved slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken，not knowing what was about to issue from it. By the light of thecorridor-lamp I saw my sister appear at the opening， her faceblanched with terror， her hands groping for help， her whole figureswaying to and fro like that of a drunkard. I ran to her and threwmy arms round her， but at that moment her knees seemed togive way and she fell to the ground. She writhed as one who is interrible pain， and her limbs were dreadfully convulsed. At first Ithought that she had not recognised me， but as I bent over hershe suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I shall never forget， ‘Oh，my God！ Helen！ It was the band！ The speckled band！’ There wassomething else which she would fain have said， and she stabbedwith her finger into the air in the direction of the doctor’s room，but a fresh convulsion seized her and choked her words. I rushedout， calling loudly for my stepfather， and I met him hasteningfrom his room in his dressing-gown. When he reached my sister’sside she was unconscious， and though he poured brandy down herthroat and sent for medical aid from the village， all efforts were invain， for she slowly sank and died without having recovered herconsciousness. Such was the dreadful end of my beloved sister.”
“One moment，” said Holmes； “are you sure about this whistleand metallic sound？ Could you swear to it？”
“That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. Itis my strong impression that I heard it， and yet， among the crashof the gale and the creaking of an old house， I may possibly havebeen deceived.”
“Was your sister dressed？”
“No， she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found thecharred stump of a match， and in her left a match-box.”
“Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her whenthe alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions didthe coroner come to？”
“He investigated the case with great care， for Dr. Roylott’sconduct had long been notorious in the county， but he was unableto find any satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed thatthe door had been fastened upon the inner side， and the windowswere blocked by old-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars，which were secured every night. The walls were carefully sounded，and were shown to be quite solid all round， and the flooring wasalso thoroughly examined， with the same result. The chimney iswide， but is barred up by four large staples. It is certain， therefore，that my sister was quite alone when she met her end. Besides，there were no marks of any violence upon her.”
“How about poison？”
“The doctors examined her for it， but without success.”
“What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of， then？”
“It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock，though what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine.”
“Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time？”
“Yes， there are nearly always some there.”
“Ah， and what did you gather from this allusion to a band—aspeckled band？”
“Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk ofdelirium， sometimes that it may have referred to some band ofpeople， perhaps to these very gipsies in the plantation. I do notknow whether the spotted handkerchiefs which so many of themwear over their heads might have suggested the strange adjectivewhich she used.”
Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied.
“These are very deep waters，” said he； “pray go on with yournarrative.”
