A Study in Scarlet - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle - Literary Tales Collection

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Speaker 1 (00:00):
A Study in Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, Part one,
Chapter one, Mister Sherlock Holmes. In the year eighteen seventy eight,
I took my degree of Doctor of Medicine of the
University of London and proceeded to Netley to go through
the course prescribed for surgeons in the Army. Having completed

(00:23):
my studies there, I was duly attached to the fifth
Northumberland Fusiliers as assistant surgeon. The regiment was stationed in
India at the time, and before I could join it,
the Second Afghan War had broken out. On landing at Bombay,
I learned that my corps had advanced through the passes
and was already deep in the enemy's country. I followed, however,

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with many other officers who were in the same situation
as myself, and succeeded in reaching Kandahigh in safety, where
I found my regiment and at once entered upon my
new duties. The paign brought honors and promotion to many,
but for me it had nothing but misfortune and disaster.

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I was removed from my brigade and attached to the Bochers,
with whom I served at the fatal battle of my
wand there I was struck on the shoulder by a
Jazael bullet which shattered the bone and grazed the subclavian artery.
I should have fallen into the hands of the murderous Ghazis,
had it not been for the devotion and courage shown
by Murray, my orderly, who threw me across a pack

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horse and succeeded in bringing me safely to the British lines.
Worn with pain and weak from the prolonged hardships which
I had undergone, I was removed with a great train
of wounded sufferers to the base hospital at Peshawar. Here
I rallied, and had already improved so far as to
be able to walk about the wards and even to

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bask a little upon the Verandah, when I was struck
down by enteric fever, that curse of our Indian poss
For months my life was despaired of, And when at
last I came to myself and became convalescent, I was
so weak and emaciated that a medical board determined that
not a day should be lost in sending me back

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to England. I was dispatched accordingly in the troop ship Oorantes,
and landed a month later on Portsmouth Jetty, with my
health irretrievably ruined, but with permission from a paternal government
to spend the next nine months in attempting to improve it.
I had neither kiss nor kin in England, and was

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therefore as free as air, or as free as an
income of eleven shillings and sixpence a day will permit
a man to be. Under such circumstances, I naturally gravitated
to London, that great cesspool into which all the loungers
and idlers of the Empire are irresistibly drained. There I
stayed for some time at a private hotel in the Strand,

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leading a comfortless, meaning less existence and spending such money
as I had, considerably more freely than I ought. So
alarmingly did the state of my fananci has become that
I soon realized that I must either leave the metropolis
and rusticate somewhere in the country, or that I must
make a complete alteration in my style of living. Choosing

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the latter alternative, I began by making up my mind
to leave the hotel and to take up my quarters
in some less pretentious and less expensive domicile. On the
very day that I had come to this conclusion, I
was standing at the Criterion bar when someone tapped me
on the shoulder, and turning around, I recognized young Stamford,

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who had been a dresser under me at Bart's. The
sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of
London is a pleasant thing, indeed to a lonely man
in old days. Stamford had never been a particular crony
of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm, and he,
in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me.

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In the exuberance of my joy, I asked him to
lunch at me at the Hoeborn, and we started off
together in a hansom. Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson,
he asked in an undisguised wonder, as we rattle through
the crowded London streets. You are as thin as a
lathe and as brown as a nut. I gave him

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a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded
it by the time that we reached our destination. Poor devil,
he said, commiseratingly. After he had listened to my misfortunes,
What are you up to now looking for lodgings, I answered,
trying to solve the problem as to whether it is
possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable price. That's

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a strange thing, remarked my companion. You are the second
man to day that has used that expression to me.
And who was the first? I asked? Hello? Was working
at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital. He was
bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone
to go halves with him in some nice rooms which

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he'd found and which were too much for his purse.
By jove, I cried, if he really wants someone to
share the rooms and the expense, I'm the very man
for him. I should prefer having a partner to being alone.
Young Stamford looked rather strangely at me over his wineglass.
You don't know Sherlock Holmes, yet, he said, Perhaps you

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would not care for him as a constant companion. Why
what is there against him? Oh? I didn't say there
was anything against him. He's a little queer in his ideas,
an enthusiast in some branches of sciences. Far as I know,
he's a decent fellow enough a medical student. I suppose,
said I, No, I have no idea what he intends

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to go in for. I believe he is well up
in anatomy, and he is a first class chemist. But
as far as I know, he's never taken out any
systematic medical classes. His studies are very desultory and eccentric.
But he has a master a lot of out of
the way knowledge which would astonish his professors. Did you

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never ask him what he was going in for? I asked, no.
He is not a man that is easy to draw out,
though he can be communicative enough when the fancy seizes him.
I should like to meet him, I said. If I
am to lodge with any one, I should prefer a
man of studious and quiet habits. I am not strong

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enough yet to stand much noise or excitement. I had
enough of both in Afghanistan to last me for the
remainder of my natural existence. How can I meet this
friend of yours? He is sure to be at the laboratory,
returned my companion. He either avoids the place for weeks,
or else he works there from morning to night. If

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you like, we shall drive round together after luncheon. Certainly,
I answered, and the conversation drifted away into other channels
as we made our way to the hospital. After leaving
the Holborn, Stamford gave me a few more particulars about
the gentleman whom I proposed to take as a fellow lodger.

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You mustn't blame me if you don't get on with him,
he said. I know nothing more of him than I
have learned from meeting him occasionally in the laboratory. You
propose this arrangement, so you must not hold me responsible
if we don't get on. It will be easy to
part company, I answered, It seems to me Stamford, I added,

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looking hard at my companion, that you have some reason
for washing your hands of the matter. Is this fellow's
temper so formidable or what is it? Don't be merely
mouthed about it. It's not easy to express the inexpressible,
he answered, with a laugh. Holmes is a little too
scientific for my tastes. It approaches to cold bloodedness. I

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could imagine his giving a friend a little pinch of
the latest vegetable alkaloid. Not out of malevolence, you understand,
but simply out of a spirit of inquiry, in order
to have an accurate idea of the effects to do
him justice. I think that he would take it himself
with the same readiness. He appears to have a passion

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for definite and exact knowledge. Very right too, Yes, but
it may be pushed to excess when it comes to
beating the subjects in the dissecting rooms with a stick.
It is certainly taking rather a bizarre shape beating the subjects, Yes,

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to verify how far bruises may be produced after death.
I saw him at it with my own eyes. And
yet you say he's not a medical student. No, Heaven
knows what the objects of his studies are. But here
we are, and you must form your own impressions about him.

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As he spoke, we turned down a narrow lane and
passed through a small side door which opened to a
wing of the great hospital. It was familiar ground to
me and I needed no guiding as we ascended the
bleak stone staircase and made our way down the long
corridor with its vista of whitewashed wall and dun colored doors.

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Near the further end, a low arched passage branched away
from it and led to the chemical laboratory. This was
a lofty chamber lined and littered with countless bottles. Broad
low tables were scattered about, which bristled with retorts, test tubes,
and little Bunsen lamps with their blue, flickering flames. There

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was only one student in the room, who was bending
over a distant table, absorbed in his work. At the
sound of our steps, he glanced round and sprang to
his feet with a cry of pleasure. I've found it.
I've found it, he shouted to my companion, running towards
us with a test tube in his hand. I have
found a reagent which is precipitated by hemoglobin and by

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nothing else. Had he discovered a gold mine, greater delight
could not have shone upon his features, Dr Watson, mister
Sherlock Holmes, said Stamford, introducing us. How are you, he said, cordially,
gripping my hand with the strength for which I should
hardly have given him credit. You have been in Afghanistan,

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I perceive, how on earth did you know? That? I asked,
in astonishment. Never mind, said he, chuckling to himself. The
question now is about hemoglobin. No doubt you see the
significance of this discovery of mine. It is interesting chemically,
No doubt, I answered, But practically, why man, it is

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the most practical medico legal discovery for years. Don't you
see that it gives us an infallible test for blood stains.
Come over here now, He seized me by the coat
sleeve in his eagerness, and drew me over to the
table at which he had been working. Let us have
some fresh blood, he said, digging a long bodkin into
his finger and drawing off the resulting drop of blood

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in a chemical pipette. Now I add this small quantity
of blood to a leach of water. You perceive that
the resulting mixture has the appearance of pure water. The
proportion of blood cannot be more than one in a million.
I have no doubt, however, that we shall be able
to obtain a characteristic reaction. As he spoke, he threw

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into the vessel a few white crystals, and then added
some drops of a transparent fluid. In an instant, the
contents assumed a dull mahogany color, and a brownish dust
was precipitated to the bottom of the glass. Jar ha ha,
he cried, clapping his hands and looking as delighted as
a child with a new toy. What do you think

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of that? It seems to be a very delicate test,
I remarked, beautiful, beautiful. The old guiacum test was very
clumsy and uncertain. So is the microscopic examination for blood corpusals.
The latter is valueless if the stains are a few
hours old. Now this appears to act as well, whether

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the blood is old or new. Had this test been invented,
there are hundreds of men now walking the earth who
would long ago have paid the penalty of their crimes. Indeed,
I murmured criminal cases are continually hinging upon that one point.
A man is suspected of a crime, months perhaps after

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it has been committed. His linen or clothes are examined,
and brownish stains discovered upon them. Are they blood stains
or mud stains, or rust daines or fruit stains? Or
what are they? That is a question which has puzzled
many an expert. And why because there was no reliable test.

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Now we have the Sherlock Holmes test, and there will
no longer be any difficulty. His eyes fairly glittered as
he spoke, and he put his hand over his heart
and bowed as if to some applauding crowd conjured up
by his imagination. You are to be congratulated, I remarked,
considerably surprised at his enthusiasm. There was the case of

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von Bischoff at Frankfort last year. He would certainly have
been hung had this test been in existence. Then there
was the Mason of Bradford, and the notorious Puller, and
the Lefevre of Montpellier, and Samson of New Orleans. I
could name a score of cases in which it would
have been decisive. You seem to be a walking calendar

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of crime, said Stamford, with a laugh. Who might start
a paper on those lines? Call it the police News
of the past. Very interesting reading it might make, too,
remarked Sherlock Holmes, sticking a small piece of plaster over
the prick on his finger. I have to be careful,
he continued, turning to me with a smile, for I

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dabble with poisons. A good deal. He held out his
hand as he spoke, and I noticed that it was
all mottled over with similar pieces of plaster and discolored
with strong acids. We came here on business, said Stamford,
sitting down on a high three legged stool and pushing
another one in my direction with his foot. My friend

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here wants to take diggings. And as you were complaining
that you could get no one to go halves with you,
I thought I had better bring you together. Sherlock Holmes
seemed delighted at the idea of sharing his rooms with me.
I have my eye on a suite in Baker Street,
he said, which would suit us down to the ground.

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You don't mind the smell of strong tobacco, I hope.
I always smoke ships myself, I answered, that's good enough.
I generally have chemicals about and occasionally do experiments. Would
that annoy you? By no means? Let me see what
are my other shortcomings. I get in the dumps at
times and don't open my mouth for days on end.

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You must not think I'm sulky when I do that.
Just let me alone and I'll soon be right. What
have you to confess? Now? It's just as well for
two fellows to know the worst of one another before
they begin to live together, I laughed at this cross examination.
I keep a bull pup, I said, and I object
to rows because my nerves are shaken, and I get

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up at all sorts of ungodly hours, and I am
extremely lazy. I have another set of vices when I'm well,
but those are the principal ones at present. Do you
include violin playing in your category of rows? He asked anxiously.
It depends on the player, I answered. A well played
violin is a treat for the gods. A badly played one.

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Oh that's all right, he cried, with a merry laugh.
I think we may consider the thing as settled. That is,
if the rooms are agreeable to you, when shall we
see them? Call for me here at noon to morrow?
Men will go together and settle everything. He answered, all right,
noon exactly, said I, shaking his hand. We left him

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working among his chemicals, and we walked together towards my hotel.
By the way, I asked, suddenly, stopping and turning upon Stamford,
how the deuce did he know that I had come
from Afghanistan. My companion smiled an enigmatical smile. That's just
his little peculiarity, he said. A good many people have

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wanted to know how he finds things out. Oh a mystery,
is it, I cried, rubbing my hands. This is very piquant.
I am much obliged to you for bringing us together.
The proper study of mankind is man. You know you
must study him. Then, Stamford said, as he bade me
good bye, you will find him a knotty problem, though

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I'll wager he learns more about you than you about him. Goodbye,
good bye, I answered, and strolled on to my hotel,
considerably interested in my new acquaintance. End of Chapter one,
Chapter two, The Science of Deduction. We met next day,

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as he had arranged and inspected the rooms at number
two twenty one B Baker Street of which he had
spoken at our meeting. They consisted of a couple of
comfortable bedrooms and a single large airy sitting room, cheerfully
furnished and illuminated by two broad windows. So desirable in
every way were the apartments, and so moderate did the

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term see when divided between us, that the bargain was
concluded upon the spot, and we at once entered into possession.
That very evening I moved my things round from the hotel,
and on the following morning Sherlock Holmes followed me with
several boxes and portmanteau. For a day or two we
were busily employed in unpacking and laying out our property

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to the best advantage. That done, we gradually began to
settle down and to accommodate ourselves to our new surroundings.
Holmes was certainly not a difficult man to live with.
He was quiet in his ways, and his habits were regular.
It was rare for him to be up after ten
at night, and he had invariably breakfasted and gone out

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before I rose in the morning. Sometimes he spent his
day at the chemical laboratory, sometimes in the dissecting rooms,
and occasionally in long walks which appeared to take him
into the lowest portions of the city. Nothing could exceed
his energy when the working fit was upon him. But
now and again a reaction would seize him, and for
days on end he would lie upon the sofa in

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the sitting room, hardly uttering a word or moving a
muscle from morning to night. On these occasions I have
noticed such a dreamy, vacant expression in his eyes that
I might have suspected him of being addicted to the
use of some narcotic, had not the temperance and cleanliness
of his whole life forbidden such a notion. As the

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weeks went by, my interest in him, and my curiosity
as to his aims in life gradually deepened and increased.
His very person and appearance were such as to strike
the attention of the most casual observer. In height, he
was rather over six foot, and so excessively lean that
he seemed to be considerably taller. His eyes were sharp

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and piercing, save during those intervals of torpor to which
I have alluded, and his thin, hawk like nose gave
his whole expression an air of alertness and decision. His chin,
too had the prominence and squareness which mark them of determination.
His hands were invariably blotted with ink and stained with chemicals,

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Yet he was possessed of extraordinary delicacy of touch, as
I frequently had occasion to observe when I watched him
manipulating his fragile philosophical instruments. The reader may set me
down as a hopeless, busybody when I confess how much
this man stimulated my curiosity, and how often I endeavored

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to break through the reticence which he showed on all
that concerned himself. Before pronouncing judgment, however, be it remembered
how objectless was my life, and how little there was
to engage my attention. My health forbade me from venturing
out unless the weather was exceptionally genial, and I had

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no friends who would call upon me and break the
monotony of my daily existence. Under these circumstances, I eagerly
hailed the little mystery which hung around my companion, and
spent much of my time in endeavoring to unravel it.
He was not studying medicine. He had himself, in reply
to a question, confirmed Stamford's opinion upon that point. Neither

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did he appear to have pursued any course of reading
which might fit him for a degree in science, or
any other recognized portal which would give him an entrance
into the learned world. Yet his zeal for certain studies
was remarkable, and within eccentric limits. His knowledge was so
extraordinarily ample and minute that his observations have fairly astounded me. Surely,

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no man would work so hard or attain such precise
information unless he had some definite end in view. Desultry
readers are seldom remarkable for the exactness of their learning.
No man burdens his mind with small matters unless he
has some very good reason for doing so. His ignorance

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was as remarkable as his knowledge of contemporary literature, philosophy,
and politics. He appeared to know next to nothing. Upon
my quoting Thomas Carlyle, he inquired in the naivest way
who he might be and what he had done. My
surprise reached a climax, however, when I found incidentally that

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he was ignorant of the Copernican theory and of the
composition of the solar system. That any civilized human being
in his nineteenth century should not be aware. That the
Earth traveled around the Sun appeared to be to me
such an extraordinary fact that I could hardly realize it.
You appear to be astonished, he said, smiling at my

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expression of surprise. Now that I do know it, I
shall do my best to forget it. To forget it,
you see, he explained, I consider that a man's brain
originally is like a little empty attic, and you have
to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A
fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that

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he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be
useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is
jumbled up with a lot of other things, so that
he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now,
the skillful workman is very careful indeed, as to what
he takes in to his brain attic. He will have
nothing but the tools which may help him in doing

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his work. But of these he has a large assortment,
and all in the most perfect order. It is a
mistake to think that the little room has elastic walls
and can distend to any extent depend upon it. There
comes a time when for every addition of knowledge, you
forget something that you knew before. It is of the

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highest importance. Therefore not to have useless facts, elbowing out
the useful ones. But the solar system, I protested, What
the deuce is it? To me? He interrupted, impatiently, you
say that we go round the sun. If we went
round the moon, it would not make a pennyworth of
difference to me or to my work. I was on

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the point of asking him what that work might be,
But something in his manner showed me that the question
would be an unwelcome one. I pondered over our short conversation, however,
and endeavored to draw my deductions from it. He said
that he would acquire no knowledge which did not bear
upon his object. Therefore, all the knowledge which he possessed

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was such as would be useful to him. I enumerated
in my own mind all the various points upon which
he had shown me that he was exceptionally well informed.
I even took a pencil and jotted them down. I
could not help smiling at the document when I had
completed it. It ran in this way. Sherlock Holmes his

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limits One knowledge of literature nil, two, philosophy nil, three,
astronomy nil. Four, politics feeble, five botany variable well up

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in belladonna, opium and poisons. Generally knows nothing of practical gardening.
Six geology practical but limited. Tells at a glance different
soils from each other. After he walks, shown me splashes
upon his trousers, and told me by their color and
consistence in what part of London he had received them.

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Seven chemistry profound. Eight anatomy accurate but unsystematic. Nine sensational
literature immense. He appears to know every detail of every
horror perpetrated in the century. Ten plays the violin well.

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Eleven is an expert singlestick player, boxer, and swordsman. Twelve
has a good practical knowledge of British law. When I
got so far in my list, I threw it into
the fire in despair. If I can only find out
what the fellow is driving at by reconciling all these
accomplishments and discovering a calling which needs them all, I

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said to myself, I may as well give up the
attempt at once. I see that I have alluded above
to his powers upon the violin. These were very remarkable,
but as eccentric as all his other accomplishments. And that
he could play pieces and difficult pieces I knew well,
because at my request he has played me some of

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Mendelssohn's Leader and other favorites. When left to himself, however,
he would seldom produce any music or attempt any recognized air.
Leaning back in his arm chair of an evening, he
would close his eyes and scrape carelessly at the fiddle,
which was thrown across his knee. Sometimes the chords were

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sonorous and melancholy. Occasionally they were fantastic and cheerful. Clearly
they reflected the thoughts which possessed him. But whether the
music aided those thoughts or whether the playing was simply
the result of a whim or fancy was more than
I could determine. I might have rebelled against these exasperating

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solos had it not been that he usually terminated them
by playing, in quick succession a whole series of my
favorite airs as a slight compensation for the trial upon
my patience. During the first week or so, we had
no callers, and I had begun to think that my
companion was as friendless a man as I was myself. Presently, however,

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I found that he had many acquaintances, and those in
the most different classes of society. There was one little, sallow,
rat faced, dark eyed fellow who was introduced to me
as mister Lestrade, and who came three or four times
in a single week. One morning, a young girl called
fashionably dressed and stayed for half an hour or more.

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The same afternoon brought a gray headed, seedy visitor looking
like a jew peddler, who appeared to me to be
much excited, and who was closely followed by a slipshod
elderly woman. On another occasion, an old, white haired gentleman
had an interview with my companion, and on another a
railway porter in his velveteen uniform. When any of these

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nondescript individuals put in an appearance, Shock Holmes used to
beg for the use of the sitting room, and I
would retire to my bedroom. He always apologized to me
for putting me to this inconvenience. I have to use
this room as a place of business, he said, and
these people are my clients. Again, I had an opportunity

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of asking him a point blank question, and again my
delicacy prevented me from forcing another man to confide in me.
I imagined at the time that he had some strong
reason for not alluding to it, but he soon dispelled
the idea by coming round to the subject of his
own accord. It was upon the fourth of March, as

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I have good reason to remember, that I rose somewhat
earlier than usual, and found that Sherlock Holmes had not
yet finished his breakfast. The landlady had become so accustomed
to my late habits that my place had not been laid,
nor my coffee prepared. With the unreasonable petulance of mankind,
I rang the bell and gave a curt intimation that

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I was ready. Then I picked up a magazine from
the table and attempted to while away the time with it,
while my companion munched silently at his toast. One of
the articles had a pencil mark at the heading, and
I naturally began to run my eye through it. Its
somewhat ambitious title was the Book of Life, and it

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attempted to show how much an observant man might learn
by an accurate and systematic examination of all that came
in his way. It struck me as being a remarkable
mixture of shrewdness and of absurdity. The reasoning was close
and intense, but the deductions appeared to me to be
far fetched and exaggerated. The writer claimed by a momentary expression,

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a twitch of a muscle, or a glance of an eye,
to fathom a man's inmost thoughts deceit, according to him,
was an impossibility in the case of one trained to
observation and analysis. His conclusions were as infallible as so
many propositions of euclid. So startling would his results appear

(30:39):
to the uninitiated, that until they learned the processes by
which he had arrived at them, they might well consider
him as a necromancer. From a drop of water, said
the writer, a logician could infer the possibility of an
Atlantic or a Niagara without having seen or heard of
one or the other. So all life is a great chain,

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the nature of which is known whenever we are shown
a single link of it. Like all other arts, the
science of deduction and analysis is one which can only
be acquired by long and patient study. Nor is life
long enough to allow any mortal to attain the highest
possible perfection in it. Before turning to those moral and

(31:23):
mental aspects of the matter which present the greatest difficulties,
let the inquirer begin by mastering more elementary problems. Let him,
on meeting a fellow mortal, learn at a glance to
distinguish the history of the man and the trade or
profession to which he belongs. Puerile as such an exercise
may seem, it sharpens the faculties of observation, and teaches

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one where to look and what to look for. By
a man's finger nails, by his coat sleeve, by his boot,
by his trouser knees, by the callosities of his forefinger
and thumb, by his expression, by his shirt cuffs. By
each of these things, a man's calling is plainly revealed.
That all united should fail to enlighten the competent inquirer

(32:08):
in any case is almost inconceivable. What ineffable twaddle, I cried,
slapping the magazine down on the table. I never read
such rubbish in my life. What is it, asked Sherlock Holmes.
Why this article, I said, pointing at it with my
egg spoon as I sat down to my breakfast. I

(32:29):
see that you've read it, since you've marked it. I
don't deny that it's smartly written. It irritates me, though
it's evidently the theory of some arm chair lounger who
evolves all these neat little paradoxes in the seclusion of
his own study. It is not practical. I should like
to see him clap down in a third class carriage
on the underground and asked to give the trades of

(32:50):
all his fellow travelers. I would lay a thousand to
one against him. You would lose your money. Sherlock Holmes remarked, calmly,
as the article I wrote it myself. You, yes, I
have a turn both for observation and for deduction. The theories
which I have expressed there, and which appear to you

(33:12):
to be so chimerical are really extremely practical, so practical
that I depend upon them for my bread and cheese.
And how I asked involuntarily, Well, I have a trade
of my own. I suppose I am the only one
in the world. I am a consulting detective, if you
can understand what that is. Here in London we have

(33:34):
lots of government detectives and lots of private ones. When
these fellows are at fault, they come to me and
I manage to put them on the right scent. They
lay all the evidence before me, and I am generally able,
by the help of my knowledge of the history of crime,
to set them straight. There is a strong family resemblance
about misdeeds. And if you have all the details of

(33:57):
a thousand that your finger ends, it is odd if
you can't unravel the thousand and first. Lestrade is a
well known detective. He got himself into a fog recently
over a forgery case, and that was what brought him here.
And these other people, they are mostly sent on by
private inquiry agencies. They are all people who are in

(34:17):
trouble about something and want a little enlightening. I listen
to their story, they listen to my comments. And then
I pocket my fee. But do you mean to say
I said that, without leaving your room, you can unravel
some knot which other men can make nothing of, although
they have seen every detail for themselves. Quite so, I

(34:39):
have a kind of intuition that way. Now and again
a case turns up which is a little more complex.
Then I have to bustle about and see things with
my own eyes. You see, I have a lot of
special knowledge which I apply to the problem, and which
facilitates matters. Wonderfully. Those rules of deduction laid down in
that article which roused your scorn, are invaluable to me

(35:01):
in practical work. Observation with me is second nature. You
appeared to be surprised when I told you on our
first meeting that you had come from Afghanistan. You were told,
no doubt, nothing of the sort. I knew you came
from Afghanistan. From long habit. The train of thoughts ran
so swiftly through my mind that I arrived at the

(35:22):
conclusion without being conscious of intermediate steps. There were such steps, however,
the train of reasoning ran. Here is a gentleman of
a medical type, but with the air of a military man,
clearly an army doctor. Then he has just come from
the tropics. For his face is dark, and that is
not the natural tint of his skin. For his wrists
are fair. He has undergone hardships and sickness, as his

(35:45):
haggard face says clearly, his left arm has been injured.
He holds it in a stiff and unnatural manner. Wherein
the tropics could an English army doctor have seen much
hardship and got his arm wounded? Clearly in Afghanistan. Train
of thought did not occupy a second. I then remarked
that you came from Afghanistan, and you were astonished. It's

(36:06):
simple enough as you explain it, I said, smiling. You
remind me of Edgar Allan Poe's Dupin. I had no
idea that such individuals did exist outside of stories. Sulock
Holmes rose and lit his pipe. No doubt you think
that you are complimenting me in comparing me to Dupin.
He observed. Now, in my opinion, Dupin was a very

(36:28):
inferior fellow. That trick of his of breaking in on
his friend's thoughts with an apropos remark after a quarter
of an hour's silence is really very showy. And superficial.
He had some analytical genius, no doubt, but he was
by no means such a phenomenon as Poe appeared to imagine.
Have you read Gaboreou's works, I asked, Does Lecoq come

(36:51):
up to your idea of a detective? Shulock Holms sniffed sardonically.
The cock was a miserable bungler, he said in an
angry voice. He had only one thing to recommend him,
and that was his energy. That book made me positively ill.
The question was how to identify an unknown prisoner. I
could have done it in twenty four hours. Lecoq took

(37:13):
six months or so. Might be made a text book
for detectives to teach them what to avoid. I felt
rather indignant at having two characters whom I had admired
treated in this cavalier style. I walked over to the
window and stood looking out into the busy street. This
fellow may be very clever, I said to myself, but

(37:35):
he's certainly very conceited. There are no crimes and no
criminals in these days, he said, querulously, What is the
use of having brains in our profession? I know well
that I have it in me to make my name famous.
No man lives, or has ever lived, who has brought
the same amount of study and of natural talent to
the detection of crime which I have done. And what

(37:57):
is the result. There is no crime to detect, or
at most some bungling villainy with a motive so transparent
that even a Scotland yard official can see through it.
I was still annoyed at his pumptuous style of conversation.
I thought it best to change the topic. I wonder
what that fellow is looking for, I asked, pointing to

(38:17):
a stalwart, plainly dressed individual who was walking slowly down
the other side of the street, looking anxiously at the numbers.
He had a large blue envelope in his hand and
was evidently the bearer of a message. You mean, the
retired sergeant of Marines, said Sherlock Holmes, brag and bounce.
I thought to myself, he knows that I cannot verify

(38:39):
his guess. The thought had hardly passed through my mind
when the man whom we were watching caught sight of
the number on our door and ran rapidly across the roadway.
We heard a loud knock, A deep voice below, and
a heavy step ascending the stair for mister Sherlock owns,
he said, stepping into the room and handing my friend

(39:01):
the letter. Here was an opportunity of taking the conceit
out of him. He little thought of this when he
made that random shot. May I ask my lad, I said,
in the blandest voice, what your trade may be? Commissioner Sir?
He said, gruffly, uniformal, wait for repairs, and you were,

(39:22):
I asked, with a slightly malicious glance at my companion,
A sergeant, sir, raw Marine lay infantry, Sir. No answer, right, sir.
He clicked his heels together, raised his hand in a salute,
and was gone. End of Chapter two, Chapter three, The

(39:43):
Lorstown Garden Mystery. I confess that I was considerably startled
by this fresh proof of the practical nature of my
companion's theories. My respect for his powers of analysis increased wondrously.
There still remain some lurking suspicion in my mind, however,
that the whole thing was a pre arranged episode intended

(40:05):
to dazzle me. Though what earthly object he could have
in taking me in was past my comprehension. When I
looked at him. He had finished reading the note, and
his eyes had assumed the vacant, lackluster expression which showed
mental abstraction. How in the world did you deduce that?
I asked, deduce what, said he petulantly, Why that he

(40:29):
was a retired sergeant of marines. I have no time
for trifles, he answered bruskly, then with a smile, excuse
my rudeness. You broke the thread of my thoughts. But
perhaps it is as well so you actually were not
able to see that the man was a sergeant of marines. No, indeed,
it was easier to know it than to explain why

(40:52):
I knew it. If you are asked to prove that
two and two made four, you might find some difficulty.
And yet you are quite sure of the fact. Even
across the street I could see a great blue anchor
tattooed on the back of the fellow's hand that smacked
of the sea. He had a military carriage, however, and
regulation side whiskers there we have the marine. He was

(41:13):
a man with some amount of self importance and a
certain air of command. You must have observed the way
in which he held his head and swung his cane
a steady, respectable, middle aged man too. On the face
of him, all facts which led me to believe that
he had been a sergeant. Wonderful, I ejaculated commonplace, said Holmes,

(41:35):
though I thought from his expression that he was pleased
at my evident surprise and admiration. I said, just now
that there were no criminals. It appears that I am wrong.
Look at this, he threw me over the note which
the commissionnaire had brought. Why, I cried as I cast
my eye over it. This is terrible. It does seem

(41:58):
to be a little out of the common he remarked, calmly.
Would you mind reading it to me aloud? This is
the letter which I read to him. Dear mister Sherlock Holmes,
there has been a bad business during the night at
three Lorston Gardens, off the Brixton Road. Our man on
the beat saw a light there about two in the morning,
and as the house was an empty one suspected that

(42:20):
something was amiss. He found the door open, and in
the front room, which is bare of furniture, discovered the
body of a gentleman, well dressed and having cards in
his pocket bearing the name of Enoch J. Drebber Cleveland, Ohio.
U s A. There had been no robbery, nor is
there any evidence as to how the man met his death.

(42:42):
There are marks of blood in the room, but there
is no wound upon his person. We are at a
loss as to how he came into the empty house. Indeed,
the whole affair is a puzzler. If you can come
round to the house any time before twelve, you will
find me there. I have left everything in state that
you quo until I hear from you. If you are

(43:03):
unable to come, I shall give you fuller details, and
would esteem it a great kindness if you would favor
me with your opinion yours faithfully to Bias Gregson. Gregson
is the smartest of the Scotland yarders. My friend remarked,
he and Lestrade are the pick of a bad lot.
They are both quick and energetic, but conventional. Shockingly so,

(43:27):
they have their knives into one another too. They are
as jealous as a pair of professional beauties. There will
be some fun over this case if they are both
put upon the scent. I was amazed at the calm
way in which he rippled on. Surely there's not a
moment to be lost, I cried, shall I go and
order your cab? I am not sure about whether I
shall go. I am the most incurably lazy devil that

(43:51):
ever stood in shoe leather, that is when the fit
is on me. For I can be spry enough at times.
Why it is just such a chance as you been
longing for, My dear fellow, What does it matter to
me supposing I unravel the whole matter? You may be
sure that Gregson lestradon Co. Will pocket all the credit

(44:13):
that comes of being an unofficial personage. But he begs
you to help him. Yes, he knows that I am
his superior and acknowledges it to me. But he would
cut his tongue out before he would own it to
any third person. However, we may as well go and
have a look. I shall work it out on my
own hook. I may have a laugh at them if

(44:34):
I have nothing else. Come on. He hustled on his
overcoat and bustled about in a way that showed that
an energetic fit had superseded the apathetic one. Get your hat,
he said, you wish me to come, yes, if you
have nothing better to do. A minute later we were
both in a hansom, driving furiously for the Brixton Road.

(44:57):
It was a foggy, cloudy morning, and a uncolored veil
hung over the house tops, looking like the reflection of
the mud colored streets beneath. My companion was in the
best of spirits and prattled away about Cremona fiddles and
the difference between a Stradivarius and an Amarty. As for myself,
I was silent. For the dull weather and the melancholy

(45:19):
business upon which we were engaged depressed my spirits. You
don't seem to give much thought to the matter in hand,
I said, at last, interrupting Holmes's musical disquisition. No data yet,
he answered. It is a capital mistake to theorize before
you have all the evidence. It biases the judgment. You

(45:41):
will have your data soon, I remarked, pointing with my finger.
This is the Brixton Road, and that is a house.
If I am not very much mistaken, so it is stop, driver, stop.
We were still a hundred yards or so from it,
but he insisted upon our alighting, and we finished our
journey upon foot Number three. Lorriston Gardens wore an ill

(46:03):
omened and minitary look. It was on a four which
stood back some little way from the street, two being
occupied and two empty. The latter looked out with three
tiers of vacant, melancholy windows, which were blank and dreary,
save that here and there a toulette card had developed
like a cataract upon the bleared panes. A small garden,

(46:27):
sprinkled over with a scattered eruption of sickly plants, separated
each of these houses from the street, and was traversed
by a narrow pathway, yellowish in color and consisting apparently
of a mixture of clay and of gravel. The whole
place was very sloppy from the rain which had fallen
through the night. The garden was bounded by a three

(46:48):
foot brick wall with a fringe of wood rails upon
the top, and against this wall was leaning a stalwart
police constable, surrounded by a small knot of loafers, who
craned their necks and strained their eyes in the vain
hope of catching some glimpse of the proceedings within. I
had imagined that Sherlock Holmes would at once have hurried

(47:09):
into the house and plunged into a study of the mystery.
Nothing appeared to be further from his intention, with an
air of nonchalance, which, under the circumstances seems to me
to border upon affectation. He lounged up and down the
pavement and gazed vacantly at the ground, the sky, the
opposite houses, and the line of railings. Having finished his scrutiny,

(47:34):
he proceeded slowly down the path, or rather down the
fringe of grass which flanked the path, keeping his eyes
riveted upon the ground. Twice he stopped, and once I
saw him smile and heard him utter an exclamation of satisfaction.
There were many marks of footsteps upon the wet clayey soil,
but since the police had been coming and going over it,

(47:57):
I was unable to see how my companion could hope
to learn anything from it. Still, I had had such
extraordinary evidence of the quickness of his perceptive faculties that
I had no doubt that he could see a great
deal which was hidden from me. At the door of
the house we were met by a tall, white faced,
flaxen haired man with a notebook in his hand, who

(48:18):
rushed forward and wrung my companion's hand with effusion. It
is indeed kind of you to come, he said, I've
had everything left untouched, except that, my friend answered, pointing
at the pathway, if a herd of buffaloes had passed along,
there could not be a greater mess, no doubt. However,

(48:39):
you had drawn your own conclusions, Gregson, before you permitted this.
I've had so much to do inside the house, the
detective said, evasively. My colleague, misster Lestrade, as here I
had relied upon him to look after this. Holmes glanced
at me and raised his eyebrows sardonically. With two such
men as yourself and Lestrade upon the ground, there will

(49:02):
not be much for a third party to find out,
he said. Gregson rubbed his hands in a self satisfied way.
I think we've done all that can be done, he answered.
It's a queer case, though, and I knew your taste
for such things. You did not come here in a cab,
asked Sherlock Holmes, No sir, nor Lestrade, No sir. Then

(49:27):
let us go and look at the room, with which,
inconsequent remark he strode on into the house, followed by Gregson,
whose features expressed his astonishment. A short passage, bare planked
and dusty, led to the kitchen and offices. Two doors
opened out of it. To the left and to the right.
One of these had obviously been closed for many weeks.

(49:50):
The other belonged to the dining room, which was the
apartment in which the mysterious affair had occurred. Holmes walked in,
and I followed him with that subdued feeling at my
heart which the presence of death inspires. It was a large,
square room, looking all the larger from the absence of
all furniture. A vulgar flaring paper adorned the walls, but

(50:11):
it was blotched in places with mildew, and here and
there great strips had become detached and hung down, exposing
the yellow plaster underneath. Opposite the door was a showy fireplace,
surmounted by a mantel piece of imitation white marble. On
one corner of this was stuck the stump of a
red wax candle. The solitary window was so dirty that

(50:34):
the light was hazy and uncertain, giving a dull, gray
tinge to everything, which was intensified by the thick layer
of dust which coated the whole apartment. All these details
I observed afterwards. At present, my attention was centered upon
the single, grim, motionless figure which lay stretched upon the
boards with vacant, sightless eyes staring up at the discolored ceiling.

(50:58):
It was that of a man about forty three or
forty four years of age, middle sized, broad shouldered, with crisp,
curling black hair and a short, stubbly beard. He was
dressed in a heavy broadcloth frock coat and waistcoat, with
light colored trousers and immaculate collar and cuffs. A top hat,
well brushed and trim was placed upon the floor beside him.

(51:22):
His hands were clenched and his arms thrown abroad, while
his lower limbs were interlocked, as though this death struggle
had been a grievous one. On his rigid face. There
stood an expression of horror, and as it seemed to me,
of hatred such as I've never seen upon human features.

(51:42):
This malignant and terrible contortion, combined with the low forehead,
blunt nose, and prognathous jaw, gave the dead man a
singularly simious and apelike appearance, which was increased by his writhing,
unnatural posture. I've seen death in many forms, but never
has it appeared to me in a more fearsome aspect

(52:05):
than in that dark, grimy apartment which looked out upon
one of the main arteries of suburban London. Lestrade, lean
and ferret like as ever, was standing by the doorway,
and greeted my companion and myself. This case will make
a stir, sir, he remarked. It beats anything I've seen,
and I'm now chicken. There is no clue, said Gregson,

(52:30):
not at all chimed in Lestrade. Sherlock Holmes approached the
body and, kneeling down, examined it intently. You are sure
there is no wound, he asked, pointing to numerous gouts
and splashes of blood which lay all around. Positive, cried
both detectives. Then, of course this blood belongs to a

(52:53):
second individual, presumably the murderer, if murder has been committed.
It reminds me of the circumstances attendant on the death
of Van Janssen in Utrecht in the year thirty four.
And do you remember the case, Gregson? Now, sir, read
it up. You really should. There is nothing new under
the sun. It has all been done before. As he spoke,

(53:16):
his nimble fingers were flying here and there and everywhere,
feeling pressing, unbuttoning, examining, while his eyes wore the same
far away expression which I've already remarked upon. So swiftly
was the examination made that one would hardly have guessed
the minuteness with which it was conducted. Finally, he sniffed
the dead man's lips, and then glanced at the soles

(53:38):
of his patent leather boots. He has not been moved
at all, he asked, No more than was necessary for
the purposes of ore examination. You can take him to
the mortuary now, he said. There's nothing more to be learned.
Gregson had a stretcher and four men at hand at
his call. They entered the room, and the stranger was

(53:59):
lifted and carried out. As they raised him, a ring
tinkled down and rolled across the floor. Lestrade grabbed it
up and stared at it with mystified eyes. There's been
a woman ere, he cried. It's a woman's wedding ring.
He held it out as he spoke upon the palm
of his hand. We all gathered round and gazed at it.

(54:22):
There could be no doubt that the circlet of plain
gold had once adorned the finger of a bride. This
complicates mas, said Gregson, ever knows. They were complicated enough
before you're sure it doesn't simplify them, observed Holmes. There's
nothing to be learned by staring at it. What did

(54:44):
you find in his pockets? We have it all here,
said Gregson, pointing to a litter of objects upon one
of the bottomed steps of the stairs. A guld watch
nowm ninety seven one sixty three by Barrow of London,
gold Albert chain, very heavy and solid gold ring with
Masonic device, gold pin, bulldog's ed with Rubies' eyes. Russian

(55:09):
leather card case with cards of Enoch J. Drebber of Cleveland,
corresponding with the EJD. Upon the linen. No purse but
loose money to the extent of seven pounds. Thirteen pocket
edition of Bacacio's Decameron, with name of Joseph Stangerson. Upon
the fly leaf two letters, one addressed to E. J.

(55:31):
Drebber and one to Joseph Stangerson at what address American
Exchange strand to be left till called for. They're both
from the Gillon Steamship Company and refer to the sailing
of their boats from Liverpool. It is clear that this
unfortunate man was about to return to New York. Have
you made any inquiries as to this man Stangerson? I

(55:55):
did it at once, said Gregson. I've had the advertisement
sent to all the newspapers, and one of my men
has gone to the American Exchange, but he hasn't returned yet.
Have you sent to Cleveland? We telegraph this morning. How
did you word your inquiries? Oh? He simply detailed the
circumstances and said that we should be glad of any

(56:17):
information which could help us. You did not ask for
particulars on any point which appeared to you to be crucial.
I asked about Stangerson, nothing else. Is there no circumstance
on which this whole case appears to hinge? Will you
not telegraph again? I've said all I have to say,
said Gregson in an offended voice. Sherlock Holmbs chuckled to

(56:40):
himself and appeared to be about to make some remark
when Lestrade, who had been in the front room while
we were holding this conversation in the hall, reappeared upon
the scene, rubbing his hands in a pompous and self
satisfied manner. Mister Gregson, he said, I've just made a
discovery of the highest importance, and one which would have
been overlooked had it not been made a careful examination

(57:03):
of the walls. The little man's eyes sparkled as he spoke,
and he was evidently in a state of suppressed exultation
at having scored a point against his colleague. Come here,
he said, bustling back into the room, the atmosphere of
which felt clearer since the removal of its ghastly inmate.
Now stand there. He struck a match on his boot

(57:25):
and held it up against the wall. Look at that,
he said, triumphantly. I have remarked that the paper had
fallen away in parts. In this particular corner of the room,
A large piece had peeled off, leaving a yellow square
of coarse plastering Across this bare space. There was scrawled
in blood red letters a single word R A C

(57:50):
H E. What do you think of that? Cried the detective,
with the air of a showman exhibiting his show. This
was overlooked because it was in the dark corner of
the room, and no one thought of looking there. The
murderer has written it with his or her own blood.
See this smear where it was trickled down the wall.
That disposes of the idea of suicide anyway, why was

(58:13):
that corner chosen to write it on? I'll tell you
see that candle on the mantelpiece. It was lit at
the time, and if it was lit, this corner would
be the brightest instead of the darkest portion of the wall.
And what does it mean now that you have found it,
asked Gregson in an appreciatory voice. Mean why it means

(58:36):
that the writer was going to put the female name Rachel,
but was disturbed before he or she had time to finish.
You mark my words. When this case comes to be
cleared up, you'll find that a woman named Rachel has
something to do with it. It's all very well for you
to laugh, mister Sherlock Holmes. You may be very smart

(58:56):
and clever, but the old own is the best. When
all is and done, I really beg your pardon, said
my companion, who had ruffled the little man's temper by
bursting into an explosion of laughter. You certainly have the
credit of being the first of us to find this out,
and as you say, it bears every mark of having

(59:17):
been written by the other participant in last night's mystery.
I have not had time to examine this room yet,
but with your permission, I shall do so. Now. As
he spoke, he whipped a tape measure and a large
round magnifying glass from his pocket. With these two implements,
he trotted noiselessly about the room, sometimes stopping, occasionally kneeling,

(59:39):
and once lying flat upon his face. So engrossed was
he with his occupation that he appeared to have forgotten
our presence, for he chattered away to himself under his
breath the whole time, keeping up a running fire of exclamations, groans, whistles,
and little cries suggestive of encouragement and of hope. As

(01:00:01):
I watched him, I was irresistibly reminded of a pure blooded,
well trained foxhound as it dashes backwards and forwards through
the covert, whining in its eagerness until it comes across
the lost scent. For twenty minutes or more, he continued
his researches, measuring with the most exact care the distance

(01:00:22):
between marks which were entirely invisible to me, and occasionally
applying his tape to the walls in an equally incomprehensible manner.
In one place, he gathered up very carefully a little
pile of gray dust from the floor and packed it
away in an envelope. Finally, he examined with his glass

(01:00:42):
the word upon the wall, going over every letter of
it with the most minute exactness. This done, he appeared
to be satisfied, for he replaced his tape and his
glass in his pocket. They say that genius is an
infinite capacity for taking pains, he remarked, with a smile.
It's a very bad definition, but it does apply to

(01:01:06):
detective work. Gregson and Lestrade had watched the maneuvers of
their amateur companion with considerable curiosity and some contempt. They
evidently failed to appreciate the fact which I had begun
to realize that Sherlock Holmbe's smallest actions were all directed
towards some definite and practical end. What do you think

(01:01:27):
of it, sir, they both asked. It would be robbing
you of the credit of the case if I was
to presume to help. You, remarked, my friend, you are
doing so well now that it would be a pity
for anyone to interfere. There was a world of sarcasm
in his voice as he spoke, If you will let
me know how your investigations go, he continued, I shall

(01:01:49):
be happy to give you any help I can. In
the meantime, I should like to speak to the constable
who found the body. Can you give me his name
and address? Lestrade glanced at his notebook, John Rance, He said,
he's off duty. Now you'll find him at forty six
Orderly Court, Kennington, park Gate. Holmes took a note of

(01:02:10):
the address. Come along, doctor, he said, we shall go
and look him up. I'll tell you one thing which
may help you in the case, he continued, turning to
the two detectives. There has been murder done, and the
murderer was a man. He was more than six feet high,
was in the prime of life, had small feet for
his height, wore coarse, square toed boots, and smoked a

(01:02:32):
trickenopo leaf cigar. He came here with his victim in
a four wheeled cab which was drawn by a horse,
with three old shoes and one new one on his
off fore leg. In all probability, the murderer had a
florid face, and the finger nails of his right hand
were remarkably long. There are only a few indications, but

(01:02:52):
they may assist you. Lestrade and Gregson glanced at each
other with an incredulous smile. If this man was murdered,
how was it done? Asked the former poison said Sherlock
Holmes curtly, and strode off. One other thing, Lestrade, he added,
turning around at the door, Racha is the German for revenge,

(01:03:15):
So don't lose your time looking for miss Rachel, with
which Parthian shot. He walked away, leaving the two rivals
open mouthed behind him. End of Chapter three, Chapter four.
What John Rance had to tell It was one o'clock

(01:03:36):
when we left number three Lorston Gardens. Sherlock Holmes led
me to the nearest telegraph office, whence he dispatched a
long telegram. He then hailed a cab and ordered the
driver to take us to the address given us by Lestrade.
There's nothing like first hand evidence, he remarked. As a
matter of fact, my mind is entirely made up upon

(01:03:57):
the case. But still we may as well learn all
that is to be learned. You amaze me, Holmes said,
I surely you are not as sure as you pretend
to be of all these particulars which you gave. There's
no room for a mistake. He answered. The very first
thing which I observed on arriving there was that a
cab had made two ruts with its wheels close to

(01:04:18):
the curb. Now, up to last night we have had
no rain for a week, so that those wheels which
left such a deep impression must have been there during
the night. There were the marks of the horse's hoofs,
the outline of one which was far more clearly cut
than that of the other three, showing that there was
a new shoe. Since the cab was there after the

(01:04:40):
rain began, and was not there at any time during
the morning, I have Gregson's word for that. It follows
that it must have been there during the night, and
therefore that it brought those two individuals to the house.
That seems simple enough, said I. But how about the
other man's height? Why the h might of a man

(01:05:01):
in nine cases out of ten, can be told from
the length of his stride. It is a simple calculation enough,
though there is no use my boring you with figures.
I had this fellow's stride both on the clay outside
and on the dust within. Then I had a way
of checking my calculation. When a man writes on a wall,

(01:05:22):
his instinct leads him to write about the level of
his own eyes. Now that writing was just over six
feet from the ground. It was child's play and his age.
I asked, well, if a man can stride four and
a half feet without the smallest effort, he can't be
quite in the sere and yellow that was the breadth

(01:05:44):
of a puddle on the garden walk, which he had
evidently walked across Peyton Leather boots had gone round and
square toes had hopped over. There is no mystery about
it at all. I am simply applying to ordinary life
a few of those precepts of observation and deduction which
I advocated in that article. Is there anything else that
puzzles you? The finger, nails and the trichinopoly, I suggested.

(01:06:10):
The writing on the wall was done with a man's
forefinger dipped in blood. My glass allowed me to observe
that the plaster was slightly scratched in doing it, which
would not have been the case if the man's nail
had been trimmed. I gathered up some scattered ash from
the floor. It was dark in color and flaky. Such
an ash is only made by a trichinopoly. I have

(01:06:31):
made a special study of cigar ashes. In fact, I've
written a monograph upon the subject. I flatter myself that
I can distinguish at a glance the ash of any
known brand, either of cigar or of tobacco. It is
just in such details that the skilled detective differs from
the Gregson and Lestrade type and the florid face. I asked, Ah,

(01:06:54):
that was a more daring shot. Though I have no
doubt that I was right, you must not ask me
that at the present state of the affair. I passed
my hand over my brow. My head is in a whirl,
I remarked. The more one thinks of it, the more
mysterious it grows. How came these two men? If there

(01:07:15):
were two men into an empty house, what has become
of the cabman who drove them? How could one man
compel another to take poison? Where did the blood come from?
What was the object of the murderer? Since robbery had
no part in it? How came the woman's ring? There?
Above all, why should the second man write up the

(01:07:38):
German word racha before decamping? I confess that I cannot
see any possible way of reconciling all these facts my
companion smiled approvingly. You sum up the difficulties of the
situation succinctly and well, he said. There is much that
is still obscure, though I have quite made up my

(01:08:00):
mind on the main facts. As to Paul Lestrade's discovery,
it was simply a blind intended to put the police
upon a wrong track by suggesting socialism and secret societies.
It was not done by a German. The a, if
you noticed, was printed somewhat after the German fashion. Now

(01:08:20):
a real German invariably prints in the Latin character, so
that we may safely say that this was not written
by one but by a clumsy imitator who overdid his part.
It was simply a ruse to divert inquiry into a
wrong channel. I'm not going to tell you much more
of the case, doctor. You know, a conjurer gets no

(01:08:40):
credit when once he has explained his trick. And if
I show you too much of my method of working,
you will come to the conclusion that I am a
very ordinary individual. After all, I shall never do that.
I answered, You've brought detection as near an exact science
as it ever will be brought in this world. My

(01:09:00):
companion flushed up with pleasure at my words and the
earnest way in which I uttered them. I had already
observed that he was as sensitive to flattery on the
score of his art as any girl could be of
her beauty. I'll tell you one thing, he said. Patent
Leathers and square Toes came in the same cab, and

(01:09:21):
they walked down the pathway together as friendly as possible,
arm in arm, in all probability. When they got inside,
they walked up and down the room, or rather, Patent
Leathers stood still, while square Toes walked up and down.
I could read all that in the dust, and I
could read that as he walked he grew more and
more excited. That is shown by the increased length of

(01:09:44):
his strides. He was talking all the while, and working
himself up, no doubt, into a fury. Then the tragedy occurred.
I've told you all I know myself now, for the
rest is mere surmise and conjecture. We have a good
working basis. However, on which to start we must hurry up,
for I want to go to Hallai's concert to hear

(01:10:05):
Norman Neruda. This afternoon. This conversation had occurred while our
cab had been threading its way through a long succession
of dingy streets and dreary byways. In the dingiest and
dreariest of them, our driver suddenly came to a stand
that's awdly cought in there, he said, pointing to a
narrow slit in the line of dead colored brick. You'll

(01:10:28):
form me here when you come back. Udly Court was
not an attractive locality. The narrow passage led us into
a squadrangle, paved with flags and lined by sordid dwellings.
We picked our way among groups of dirty children and
through lines of discolored linen, until we came to number
forty six, the door of which was decorated with a

(01:10:49):
small slip of brass on which the name Rance was engraved.
On inquiry, we found that the Constable was in bed,
and we were shown into a little front parlor to
wait his coming. He appeared, presently, looking a little irritable
at being disturbed in his slumbers or mode of my
report at the office, he said. Holmes took a half

(01:11:13):
sovereign from his pocket and played with it pensively. We
thought that we should like to hear it all from
your own lips, he said, or it shall be your
most stappy to tell you anything I can. The Constable answered,
with his eyes upon the little golden disc. Just let
us hear it all in your own way. As it occurred,

(01:11:34):
Rance sat down on the horsehair sofa and knitted his brows,
as though determined not to omit anything in his narrative.
I'll tell it you from the beginning, he said. My
time is from ten at night to six in the morning.
At eleven there was a fight at the White Art,
but bar that all was quiet enough on the beat.

(01:11:56):
At one o'clock it began to rain when I met
Mary Murcher, who has the olng Grove Beat, and we
stood together at the corner of Henrietta Street. Are talking presently.
Maybe about two or a little after. I thought would
take a look around and see that all was right
down the Brixton Road. It was precious, dirty and lonely.

(01:12:17):
Not a sol did I meet all the way down,
though a cab or two went past me. I was
strolling down, thinking between ourselves our uncommon andy a four
of ginnot would be, when suddenly the glint of a
light caught my eye in the window of that same house. Now,
I knew then that two hours is in Lorriston Gardens

(01:12:39):
was empty on account of him that owns them, who
won't have the drain seed too, though the very last
tenant what lived in one of them, died a typhoid fever.
I was knocked all in a heap therefore at seeing
a light in the window, and I suspected as something
was wrong. When I got to the door, you stopped
and then walked back to the garden gate. My companion interrupted,

(01:13:03):
what did you do that for? Rance gave a violent
jump and stared at Sherlock Holmes with the utmost amazement
upon his features. Why that's true, sir, he said, Oh, oh,
come you to know it? Heaven only knows you. See.
When I got up to the door, it was so
still and so lonesome that I thought i'd been none
the worse for someone with me. I ain't a feared

(01:13:26):
of anything on this side of the grave, but I
thought that maybe it was him that died of the typhoid.
Inspecting the drains what killed him. The thought gave me
a kind of turn, and I walked back to the
gate to see if I could see merchant's lantern but
then want no sign of him, nor of anyone else.
There was no one in the street, not a living soul, sir,

(01:13:47):
nor as much as a dog. Then I pulled myself
together and went back and pushed the door open. All
was quiet inside, so I went into the room, where
the light was a burning. There was a candle flickering
in the mantelpiece, a red wax one, and by its
lie I saw, Yes, I know all that you saw.

(01:14:09):
You walked round the room several times, and you knelt
down by the body, and then you walked through and
tried the kitchen door. And then John Rance sprang to
his feet with a frightened face and suspicion in his eyes.
Where was you ind to see all that? He cried?
It seems to me that you knows a deal more
than you should. Holmes laughed and threw his card across

(01:14:31):
the table to the constable. Don't get arresting me for
the murder, he said, I am one of the hounds
and not the wolf. Mister Gregson or mister Lestrade will
answer for that. Go on, though, what did you do next?
Rance resumed his seat, without however, losing his mystified expression.

(01:14:52):
I went back to the gate, and sound of my
whistle that brought Murcher and two more to the spot.
Was the street heat empty? Then? Well it was as
far as anybody that could be of any good goes.
What do you mean? The Constable's features broadened into a grin.
I've seen many a drunk chap in my time, he said,

(01:15:15):
but never anyone so crying drunk as that cove. He
was at the gate when I came out, a leaning
up again the railings, and a singing at the picture
of his lungs about Columbine's new fangled banner wore some
such stuff. He couldn't stand far less help. What sort
of man was? He asked Sherlock Holmes. John Rance appeared
to be somewhat irritated at this digression. He was an

(01:15:39):
uncommon drunk sort of man, he said. He'd have found
himself in the station if we hadn't been so took
up his face, his dress. Didn't you notice them, Holmes
broke in impatiently. I should think I did notice them,
seeing that I had to prop him up, me and
Mercher between us. He was a long chap with a

(01:16:00):
red face, the lower part muffled round that twill do,
cried Holmes. What became of him? Wed enough to do
without looking after him? The policeman said, in an aggrieved voice, Oh, wager,
he found his way home all right? How was he dressed?
A brown overcoat? Had he a whip in his hand?

(01:16:21):
A whip? Now he must have left it behind, muttered
my companion. You didn't happen to see or hear a
cab after that. No, there's a half sovereign for you,
my companion said, standing up and taking his hat. I'm
afraid rance that you will never rise in the force.

(01:16:41):
That head of yours should be for use as well
as ornament. You might have gained your sergeant's stripes last night.
The man whom you held in your hands is the
man who holds the clue of this mystery and whom
we are seeking. There is no use of arguing about
it now, I'll tell you that it is so. Come along, doctor.

(01:17:01):
We started off for the cab together, leaving our informant
incredulous but obviously uncomfortable. The blundering fool, Holmes said, bitterly,
as we drove back to our lodgings. Just to think
of his having such an incomparable bit of good luck
and not taking advantage of it. I'm rather in the dark. Still.

(01:17:21):
It's true that the description of this man tallies with
your idea of the second party in this mystery. But
why should he come back to the house after leaving it?
That is not the way of criminals. The ring man,
the ring, that was what he came back for. If
we have no other way of catching him, we can
always bait our line with the ring. I shall have him, doctor,

(01:17:46):
I'll lay you two to one that I have him.
I must thank you for it all. I might not
have gone but for you, and so have missed the
finest study I have ever come across. A study in scarlet. Eh,
why shouldn't we use a little art jargon. There's the
scarlet thread of murder running through the colorless scheme of life,
and our duty is to unravel it and isolate it,

(01:18:08):
and expose every inch of it. And now for lunch,
and then for Norman Neruda. Her attack and her bowing
are splendid. What's that little thing of chopin she plays
so magnificently? Tra La Lalai ra La lays leaning back
in the cab. This amateur bloodhound carroled away like a
lark while I meditated upon the many sidedness of the

(01:18:31):
human mind. End of Chapter four, Chapter five, Our advertisement
brings a visitor. Our morning's exertions had been too much
for my weak health, and I was tired out. In
the afternoon, after holmes departure for the concert, I lay
down upon the sofa and endeavored to get a couple

(01:18:53):
of hours sleep. It was a useless attempt. My mind
had been too much excited by all that had occurred,
and the strangest fancies and surmises crowded into it. Every
time that I closed my eyes, I saw before me
the distorted, baboon like countenance of the murdered man. So
sinister was the impression which that face had produced upon

(01:19:15):
me that I found it difficult to feel anything but
gratitude for him who had removed its owner from the world.
If ever human features bespoke vice of the most malignant type,
they were certainly those of Enoch J. Drebber of Cleveland. Still,
I recognized that justice must be done, and that the
depravity of the victim was no condonement in the eyes

(01:19:38):
of the law. The more I thought of it, the
more extraordinary did my companion's hypothesis that the man had
been poisoned appear? I remembered how he had sniffed his lips,
and had no doubt that he had detected something which
had given rise to the idea. Then again, if not poison,
what had caused the man's death, since there was neither

(01:20:00):
wound nor marks of strangulation. But on the other hand,
whose blood was that which lay so thickly upon the floor.
There were no signs of a struggle, nor had the
victim any weapon with which he might have wounded an antagonist.
As long as all these questions were unsolved, I felt
that sleep would be no easy matter, either for Holmes

(01:20:23):
or myself. His quiet, self confident manner convinced me that
he had already formed a theory which explained all the facts,
though what it was I could not for an instant conjecture.
He was very late in returning, so late that I
knew that the concert could not have detained him all
the time. Dinner was on the table before he appeared.

(01:20:46):
It was magnificent, he said, as he took his seat.
Do you remember what Darwin says about music? He claims
that the power of producing and appreciating. It existed among
the human race long before the power of speech, which
was arrived at. Perhaps that is why we are so
subtly influenced by it. There are vague memories in our

(01:21:07):
souls of those misty centuries when the world was in
its childhood. That's rather a broad idea, I remarked. One's
ideas must be as broad as nature, if they are
to interpret nature. He answered, what's the matter? You are
not looking quite yourself. This Brixton Road affair has upset you.

(01:21:27):
To tell the truth, it has, I said, I ought
to be more case hardened after my Afghan experiences, and
I saw my own comrades hacked to pieces at my
wand without losing my nerve, I can understand there is
a mystery about this which stimulates the imagination. Where there
is no imagination, there is no horror. Have you seen

(01:21:48):
the evening paper? No, it gives a fairly good account
of the affair. It does not mention the fact that
when the man was raised up a woman's wedding ring
fell upon the floor. It is just as well it
does not. Why look at this advertisement, he answered, I
had once sent to every paper this morning immediately after

(01:22:10):
the affair. He threw the paper across to me and
I glanced at the place indicated it was the first
announcement in the found column in Brixton Road this morning.
It ran A plain gold wedding ring found in the
roadway between the white Hart Tavern and Holland Grove. Apply
doctor Watson, two twenty one b Baker Street between eight

(01:22:33):
and nine this evening. Excuse my using your name, he said,
If I use my own, some of these dunder heads
would recognize it and want to meddle in the affair.
Now that's all right, I answered, But supposing any one applies,
I have no ring? Oh yes, you have said, he

(01:22:54):
handing me one. This will do very well. It is
almost a facsimile. And who do you expect will answer
this advertisement? Why the man in the brown coat, our
florid friend with the square toes. If he does not
come himself, he will send an accomplice. Would he not
consider it as too dangerous? Not at all? If my

(01:23:15):
view of the case is correct, and I have every
reason to believe that it is, this man would rather
risk anything than lose the ring. According to my notion,
he dropped it while stooping over Drever's body, and did
not miss it at the time. After leaving the house,
he discovered his loss and hurried back, but found the
police already in possession. Owing to his own folly in

(01:23:38):
leaving the candle burning, he had to pretend to be
drunk in order to allay the suspicions which might have
been aroused by his appearance at the gate. Now put
yourself in that man's place. On thinking the matter over,
it must have occurred to him that it was possible
that he had lost the ring in the road after
leaving the house. What would he do? Then? He would

(01:24:01):
eagerly look out for the evening papers, in the hope
of seeing it. Among the articles found. His eye, of course,
would light upon this. He would be overjoyed. Why should
he fear a trap? There would be no reason in
his eyes why the finding of the ring should be
connected with the murder. He would come, He will come.

(01:24:21):
You shall see him within an hour. And then I asked, oh,
you can leave me to deal with him. Then have
you any arms? I have my old service revolver and
a few cartridges. You had better clean it and load it.
He will be a desperate man, and though I shall
take him unawares, it is as well to be ready

(01:24:42):
for anything. I went to my bedroom and followed his advice.
When I returned with the pistol, the table had been
cleared and Holmes was engaged in his favorite occupation of
scraping upon his violin The plot thickens, he said, as
I entered, I have just had an answer to my
American telegram. My view of the case is the correct one,

(01:25:05):
and that is I asked eagerly. My fiddle would be
the better for new strings, He remarked. Put your pistol
in your pocket. When the fellow comes, speak to him
in an ordinary way. Leave the rest to me. Don't
frighten him by looking at him too hard. It is
eight o'clock now, I said, glancing at my watch. Yes,

(01:25:27):
he will probably be here in a few minutes. Open
the door slightly. That will do. Now, put the key
on the inside. Thank you. This is a queer old
book I picked up at a store yesterday, De Giorre
inter Gentes, published in Latin. At the age in the
Lowlands in sixteen forty two, Charles's head was still firm

(01:25:48):
on his shoulders when this little brown backed volume was
struck off. Who is the printer Philippe de Crois, whoever
he may have been? On the fly in very faded
ink is written ex libris Giliormele White. I wonder who
William White was some pragmatical seventeenth century lawyer. I suppose

(01:26:12):
his writing has a legal twist about it. Here comes
our man, I think. As he spoke, there was a
sharp ring at the bell Sherlock Holmbs rose softly and
moved his chair in the direction of the door. We
heard the servant pass along the hall, and the sharp
click of the latch as she opened it. Does Dr

(01:26:32):
Watson Livia asked a clear but rather harsh voice. We
could not hear the servant's reply, but the door closed,
and some one began to ascend the stairs. The footfall
was an uncertain and shuffling one. A look of surprise
passed over the face of my companion as he listened
to it. It came slowly along the passage, and there

(01:26:54):
was a feeble tap at the door. Come in, I
cried at my summons. Instead of the man of violence
whom we expected, a very old and wrinkled woman hobbled
into the apartment. She appeared to be dazzled by the
sudden blaze of light, and after dropping a curtsey, she
stood blinking at us with her bleared eyes and fumbling

(01:27:15):
in her pocket with nervous, shaky fingers. I glanced at
my companion, and his face had assumed such a disconsolate
expression that it was all I could do to keep
my countenance. The old crone drew out an evening paper
and pointed at our advertisement. It's this As has brought

(01:27:37):
me good gentleman, she said, dropping another curtsey, a gold
wedding ring in the Brixton Road. It belongs to my girl,
Sally As was married only this time twelvemonth, which her
husband is steward aboard a union boat. And what you'd
say if he come home and found her without her
ring is more than I can think, he being sure

(01:27:59):
enough for the best of times, but more especially when
he has the drink. If it please you, she went
to the circus last night along with is that her ring?
I asked? The lord be thanked, cried the old woman.
Sallie will be a glad woman this night. That's the ring.

(01:28:22):
And what may your address be? I inquired, taking up
a pencil, thirteen Duncan Street, Hound's Ditch a weary way
from here. The Brixton Road does not lie between any
circus and Hound's Ditch, said Sherlock Holmes sharply. The old
woman faced round and looked keenly at him from her little,

(01:28:42):
red rimmed eyes. The gentleman ask me for my address,
she said, Sallie lives in lodgings at three Mayfield Place, Peckham.
And your name is My name is Sawyer. Hers is Dennis,
which Tom Denis married her. And a smart clean lad too,

(01:29:03):
as long as he's at sea, and no steward in
the company more thought of. But when on shore, what
with the women, and what with liquor shops? Here is
your ring, missus, Sawyer, I interrupted, in obedience to a
sign from my companion. It clearly belongs to your daughter,
and I am glad to be able to restore it
to the rightful owner. With many mumbled blessings and protestations

(01:29:27):
of gratitude, the old crone packed it away in her
pocket and shuffled off down the stairs. Sherlock Holmes sprang
to his feet the moment that she was gone, and
rushed into his room. He returned in a few seconds,
enveloped in an ulster and a cravat. I'll follow her,
he said, hurriedly. She must be an accomplice and will

(01:29:49):
lead me to him. Wait up for me. The hall
door had hardly slammed behind our visitor before Holmes had
descended the stair. Looking through the window, I could see
her walking feebly along the other side, while her pursuer
dogged her some little distance behind. Either this whole theory
is incorrect, I thought to myself, or else it'd be

(01:30:12):
led down to the heart of the mystery. There was
no need for him to ask me to wait up
for him, for I felt that sleep was impossible until
I heard the result of his adventure. It was close
upon nine when he set out. I had no idea
how long he might be, but I sat stolidly, puffing
at my pipe and skipping over the pages of Enri

(01:30:33):
Murger's VI Debo. M. Ten o'clock passed, and I heard
the footsteps of the maid as they pattered off to
bed eleven, and the more stately tread of the landlady
passed my door, bound for the same destination. It was
close upon twelve before I heard the sharp sound of
his latch key. The instant he entered, I saw by

(01:30:56):
his face that he had not been successful. Amusement and
chagrin seemed to be struggling for the mastery, until the
former suddenly carried the day, and he burst into a
hearty laugh. I wouldn't have the Scotland yarders know it
for the world, he cried, dropping into his chair. I
have chafed them so much that they would never have

(01:31:17):
let me hear the end of it. I can afford
to laugh because I know that I will be even
with them in the long run. What is it, then,
I asked, Oh, I don't mind telling a story against myself.
That creature had gone a little way when she began
to limp and show every sign of being footsore. Presently
she came to a halt and hailed a four wheeler

(01:31:39):
which was passing. I managed to be close to her
so as to hear the address. But I need not
have been so anxious, for she sang it out loud
enough to be heard at the other side of the street.
Drive to thirteen Duncan Street, Ouns Ditch. She cried. This
begins to look genuine, I thought, and having seen her
safely inside, I perched myself behind. That's an art which

(01:32:04):
every detective should be an expert at. Well away we
rattled and never drew rein until we reached the street
in question. I hopped off before we came to the door,
and strolled down the street in an easy lounging way.
I saw the cab pull up, The driver jumped down,
and I saw him open the door and stand expectantly.
Nothing came out. When I reached him, he was groping

(01:32:27):
about frantically in the empty cab and giving vent to
the finest assorted collection of oaths that ever I listened to.
There was no sign or trace of his passenger, and
I fear it will be some time before he gets
his fare. On inquiring at number thirteen, we found that
the house belonged to a respectable paperhanger named Kessick, and

(01:32:47):
that no one of the name either of Sawyer or
Denis had ever been heard of there. You don't mean
to say, I cried in amazement that that tottering, feeble
old woman was able to get out of a cab
while it was in motion, without either you or the
driver seeing her. Old woman be damned, said Sherlock Holmes
sharply we were the old women was so taken in

(01:33:11):
it must have been a young man, and an active
one too, Besides being an incomparable actor. The get up
was inimitable. He saw that he was followed no doubt,
and used this means of giving me the slip. It
shows that the man we are after is not as
lonely as I imagined he was, but has friends who
are ready to risk something for him. Now, doctor, you're

(01:33:34):
looking done up, take my advice and turn in. I
was certainly feeling very weary, so I obeyed his injunction.
I left home seated in front of the smoldering fire,
and long into the watches of the night, I heard
the low, melancholy wailings of his violin, and knew that
he was still pondering over the strange problem which he

(01:33:56):
had set himself to unravel. End of Chapter five, Chapter six,
Tobias Gregson shows what he can do. The papers next
day were full of the Brixton mystery, as they termed it.
Each had a long account of the affair, and some
had leaders upon it. In addition, there was some information

(01:34:17):
in them which was new to me. I still retain
in my scrap book numerous clippings and extracts bearing upon
the case. Here is a condensation of a few of them.
The Daily Telegraph remarked that in the history of crime
there had seldom been a tragedy which presented stranger features.
The German name of the victim, the absence of all

(01:34:38):
other motive, and the sinister inscription on the wall all
pointed to its perpetration by political refugees and revolutionists. The
socialists had many branches in America, and the deceased had
no doubt infringed their unwritten laws and been tracked down
by them. After alluding airily to the veymer Bicht, Aquatafana Cabanari,

(01:35:02):
the Marchioness de Brinvilliers, the Darwinian theory, the principles of Maltice,
and the Ratcliffe Highway murders, the article concluded by admonishing
the government and advocating a closer watch over foreigners in England.
The Standard commented upon the fact that lawless outrages of
the sort usually occurred under a liberal administration. They arose

(01:35:25):
from the unsettling of the minds of the masses and
the consequent weakening of all authority. The deceased was an
American gentleman who had been residing for some weeks in
the metropolis. He had stayed at the boarding house of
Madame Charpontier in Torquay Terrace, Camberwell. He was accompanied in
his travels by his private secretary, mister Joseph Stangerson. The

(01:35:49):
two bade adieu to their landlady upon Tuesday the fourth
inst and departed to Euston Station with the avowed intention
of catching the Liverpool Express. They were afterwards seen together
upon the platform. Nothing more is known of them until
mister Drever's body was, as recorded, discovered in an empty

(01:36:09):
house in the Brixton Road, many miles from Euston. How
he came there or how he met his fate are
questions which are still involved in mystery. Nothing is known
of the whereabouts of Stangerson. We are glad to learn
that mister Lestrade and mister Gregson of Scotland Yard are
both engaged upon the case, and it is confidentially anticipated

(01:36:32):
that these well known officers will speedily throw light upon
the matter. The Daily News observed that there was no
doubt as to the crime being a political one. The
despotism and hatred of liberalism, which animated the continental governments,
had had the effect of driving to our shores a
number of men who might have made excellent citizens, were

(01:36:53):
they not soured by the recollection of all that they
had undergone. Among these men, there there was a stringent
code of honor, any infringement of which was punished by death.
Every effort should be made to find the Secretary Stangerson,
and to ascertain some particulars of the habits of the deceased.
A great step had been gained by the discovery of

(01:37:15):
the address of the house at which he had boarded,
a result which was entirely due to the acuteness and
energy of mister Gregson of Scotland Yard. Sir Combs and
I read these notices over together at breakfast, and they
appeared to afford him considerable amusement. I told you that
whatever happened, Lestrade and Gregson would be sure to score.

(01:37:38):
That depends on how it turns out, Oh bless you.
It doesn't matter in the least. If the man is court,
it'll be on account of their exertions. If he escapes,
it will be in spite of their exertions. Its heads,
I win and tails you lose. Whatever they do, they
will have followers, and so true. Trujour am plusau quiladmir

(01:38:01):
What on earth is this? I cried for At this
moment there came the pattering of many steps in the
hall and on the stairs, accompanied by audible expressions of
disgust upon the part of our landlady. It's the Baker
Street Division of the Detective Police Force, said my companion gravely.

(01:38:22):
And as he spoke, there rushed into the room half
a dozen of the dirtiest and most ragged street arabs
that ever. I clapped eyes on tension, cried Holmes in
a sharp tone, and the six dirty little scoundrels stood
in a line like so many disreputable statuettes. In future,
you shall send up Wiggins alone to report, and the

(01:38:44):
rest of you must wait in the street. Have you
found it Wiggins? Now, sir, we hate, said one of
the youths. I hardly expected you would. You must keep
on until you do. Here are your wages. He handed
each of them a shilling. Now off you go and
come back with a better report next time. He waved

(01:39:04):
his hand, and they scampered away downstairs like so many rats,
and we heard their shrill voices next moment in the street.
There's more work to be got out of one of
those little beggars than out of a dozen of the force.
Holmes remarked, the mere sight of an official looking person
seals men's lips. These youngsters, however, go everywhere and hear everything.

(01:39:27):
They are as sharp as needles too. All they want
is organization. Is it on this Brixton case that you
are employing them? I asked, yes, there is a point
which I wish to ascertain. It is merely a matter
of time. Hello, we're going to hear some news now
with a vengeance. Here is Gregson coming down the road,

(01:39:48):
with beatitude written upon every feature of his face, bound
for us. I know, yes, he is stopping there he is.
There was a violent peace at the bell, and in
a few seconds, the fair haired detective came up the
stairs three steps at a time, and burst into our
sitting room. My dear fellow, he cried, wringing Holme's unresponsive hand.

(01:40:13):
Congratulate me. I have made the whole thing as clear
as day. A shade of anxiety seemed to me to
cross my companion's expressive face. Do you mean that you
are on the right track, he asked, right track? Why, sir,
we have the man under loton key and his name
is Arthur Sharp Pontier, sub Lieutenant in Her Majesty's Navy,

(01:40:38):
cried Gregson, pompously, rubbing his fat hands and inflating his chest.
Sherlock Holmes gave a sigh of relief and relaxed into
a smile. Take a seat and try one of these cigars,
he said. We are anxious to know how you managed it.
Will you have some whiskey and water? I don't mind

(01:40:58):
if I do. The detective have answered. The tremendous exertions
which I have gone through during the last day or
two have worn me out. Not so much bodily exertion,
you understand, as a strain upon the mind. You will
appreciate that, mister Sherlock Holmes, for we are both brain workers.
You do me too much honor, said Holmes gravely. Let

(01:41:21):
us hear how you arrived at this most gratifying result.
The detective seated himself in the armchair and puffed complacently
at his cigar. Then suddenly he slapped his thigh in
a paroxysm of amusement. The fun of it is. He
cried that that fool lestrade, who thinks himself so smart,

(01:41:44):
has gone off upon the wrong track altogether. He's after
the Secretary Stangerson, who had no more to do with
the crime than the babe unborn. I have no doubt
that he has caught him by this time. The idea
tickled Gregson so much that he laughed until he choked.
And how did you get your clue? I'll tell you

(01:42:06):
about it, of course, Dr Watson. This is strictly between ourselves,
and the first difficulty which we had to contend with
was the finding of this American's antecedents. Some people would
have waited until their advertisements were answered, or until parties
came forward and volunteered information. That is not to bias

(01:42:29):
Gregson's way of going to work. You remember that beside
the dead man, Yes, said Holmes by John Underwood and Sons,
one hundred and twenty nine Camberwell Road. Gregson looked quite crestfallen.
I had no idea that you noticed that. He said,
have you been there? No, ha, cried Gregson in a

(01:42:51):
relieved voice. You should never neglect a chance, however small
it may seem to a great mind. Nothing is little,
remarked Holmes, sententiously. Well, I went to Underwood and asked
him if he had sold a hat of that size
and description. He looked over his books and came on

(01:43:11):
it at once. He had sent the hat to a
mister Drebber residing at Charpentier's boarding establishment, Torquay Terrace. Thus
I got at his address, smart, very smart, murmured Sherlock Holmes.
I next called upon Madame Charpontier, continued the detective. I

(01:43:32):
found her very pale and distressed. Her daughter was in
the room, an uncommonly fine girl. She is too. She
was looking red about the eyes, and her lips trembled
as I spoke to her. That didn't escape my notice.
I began to smell a rat. You know the feeling,
mister Sherlock Holmes, when you come upon the right scent,

(01:43:53):
a kind of thrill in your nerves. Have you heard
of the mysterious death of your late border mister Enoch J.
Drebber of Cleveland, I asked? The mother nodded. She didn't
seem able to get out a word. The door burst
into tears. I felt more than ever that these people
knew something of the matter. At what o'clock did Dr

(01:44:17):
Drebber leave your house for the train? I asked, At
eight o'clock, she said, gulping in her throat to keep
down her agitation. His secretary, mister Stangerson, said that there
were two trains, one at nine point fifteen and one
at eleven. He was to catch the first, and was

(01:44:38):
that the last which you saw of him? A terrible
change came over the woman's face. As I asked the question.
Her features turned perfectly livid. It was some seconds before
she could get out the single word yes, and when
it did come, it was in a husky, unnatural tone.
There was silence for a moment, and when the daughter

(01:45:00):
spoke in a calm, clear voice, No good can ever
come a falsehood. Mother, she said, let us be frank
with this, gentleman. We did see mister Drebber again. God
forgive you, cried Madame Charpentier, throwing up her arms and
sinking back in her chair. You have murdered your brother Arthur.

(01:45:22):
Would rather we spoke the truth? The girl answered firmly.
You had best tell me all about it now, I said.
Half confidences are worse than none. Besides, you do not
know how much we know of it. On your head
be it, Alice cried her mother, and then turning to me,

(01:45:42):
I will tell you all, sir, do not imagine that
my agitation on behalf of my son arises from any
fear lest he should have had, and in this terrible affair,
he is utterly innocent of it. My dread is, however,
that in your eyes and in the eyes of others,
he may appear to be compromised. That, however, is surely impossible.

(01:46:04):
His eye, character, his profession, his antecedents would all forbid it.
Your best way is to make a clean breast of
the facts, I answered, depend upon it. If your son
is innocent, he will be none the worse. Perhaps, Alice,
you had better leave us together, she said, and her
daughter withdrew. Now, sir, she continued, I had no intention

(01:46:29):
of telling you all this, but since my poor daughter
has disclosed it, I have no alternative. Having once decided
to speak, I will tell you all without in any particular.
It is your wisest course, said I. Mister Drebber has
been with us nearly three weeks. He and his secretary,

(01:46:51):
mister Stangerson, have been traveling on the continent, I noticed
a Copenhagen label upon each of their trunks, showing that
that had been their last stopping place. Stangerson was a quiet,
reserved man, but his employer, I am sorry to say,
was far otherwise. He was coarse in his abbots and
brutish in his ways. The very night of his arrival

(01:47:13):
he became very much the worse for drink, and indeed,
after twelve o'clock in the day he could hardly ever
be said to be sober. His manners towards the maid
servants were disgustingly free and familiar. Worst of all, he
speedily assumed the same attitude towards my daughter Alice, and
spoke to her more than once in a way which,

(01:47:33):
fortunately she is too innocent to understand. On one occasion
he actually seized her in his arms and embraced her,
an outrage which caused his own secretary to reproach him
for his unmanly conduct. But why did you stand all this,
I asked, I suppose that you can get rid of
your borders when you wish, missus. Charpentier blushed at my

(01:47:56):
pertinent question, would to God that I had given him
notice on the very day that he came, she said,
But it was a sore temptation. They were paying a
pound a day each fourteen pounds a week, and this
is a slack season. I'm a widow, and my boy
in the navy has cost me much. I grudged to
lose the money. I acted for the best. This last

(01:48:20):
was too much, however, and I gave him notice to
leave on account of it. That was the reason of
his going. Well, my heart grew light when I saw
him drive away. My son is on leave just now,
but I did not tell him anything of all this,
for his temper is violent, and he is passionately fond
of his sister. When I closed the door behind him,

(01:48:43):
a load seemed to be lifted from my mind. Alas,
in less than an hour there was a ring at
the bell, and I learned that mister Drebber had returned.
He was much excited, and evidently the worse for drink.
He forced his way into the room where I was
sitting with my door, and made some inco and remark
about having missed his train. He then turned to Alice,

(01:49:05):
and before my very face, proposed to her that she
should fly with him. You were of age, he said,
and there is no law to stop you. I have
money enough and to spare. Never mind the old Girlier,
but come along with me now, straightway, you shall live
like a princess. Poor Alice was so frightened that she
shrunk away from him, but he caught her by the

(01:49:26):
wrist and endeavored to draw her towards the door. I screamed,
and at that moment my son Arthur came into the room.
What happened then, I do not know. I heard oaths
and the confused sounds of a scuffle. I was too
terrified to raise my head. When I did look up,
I saw Arthur standing in the doorway, laughing, with a
stick in his hand. I don't think that fine fellow

(01:49:48):
will trouble us again, he said, I'll just go after
him and see what he does with himself. With those words,
he took his hat and started off down the street.
The next morning, word of mister Drebber's mysterious death. This
statement came from missus Sharpentier's lips, with many gasps and pauses.

(01:50:08):
At times, she spoke so low that I could hardly
catch the words. I made shortenan notes of all that
she said however, so that there should be no possibility
of a mistake. It's quite exciting, said Sherlock Holmes with
a yawn. What happened next? When missus Sharpentier paused, the
detective continued, I saw that the whole case hung upon

(01:50:32):
one point, fixing her with my eye in a way
which I always found effective with women, I asked her
at what hour ER's son returned, I do not know,
she answered, not know. No, he has a latch key,
and he let himself in after you went to bed. Yes,

(01:50:53):
when did you go to bed? About eleven? So your
son was gone at least two hours, yes, possibly four
or five? Yes. What was he doing during that time?
I do not know, she answered, turning white to her
very lips. Of course, after that there was nothing more

(01:51:14):
to be done. I found out where Leutenant Charpentier was,
took two officers with me and arrested him. When I
touched him on the shoulder and warned him to come
quietly with us, he answered us as bold as brass,
I suppose you're arresting me for being concerned in the
death of that scoundrel Drebber. He said, we had said

(01:51:34):
nothing to him about it. So that is alluding to
it at a most suspicious aspect. Very, said Holmes. He
still carried the heavy stick which the Mother's prescribed as
having with him when he followed Drebber. It was a
stout oak cudgel. What is your theory then, well, my

(01:51:54):
theory is that he followed Drebber as far as the
Brixton Road, when there a fresh altercation arose between them,
in the course of which Drebber received a blow from
the stick in the pit of the stomach, perhaps which
killed him without leaving any mark. The night was so
wet that no one was about. So sharp Pentier dragged

(01:52:17):
the body of his victim into the empty house. As
to the candle and the blood, and the writing on
the wall and the ring, they may all be so
many tricks to throw the police onto the wrong scent.
Well done, said Holmes in an encouraging voice. Really, Gregson,
you are getting along. We shall make something of you.

(01:52:38):
Yet I flatter myself that I have managed it rather neatly,
the detective answered proudly. The young man volunteered a statement
in which he said that after following Drebber some time,
the latter perceived him and took a cab in order
to get away from him. On his way home, he
met an old shipmate and took a long walk with him.

(01:53:01):
On being asked where this old shipmate lived, he was
unable to give any satisfactory reply. I think the old
case fits together uncommonly. Well, what amuses me is to
think of Lestrade, who stared off on the wrong scent.
I'm afraid he won't make much of why. By Jove,
he's the very man himself. It was indeed Lestrade who

(01:53:24):
had ascended the stairs while we were talking, and who
now entered the room. The assurance and jauntiness which generally
marked his demeanor and dress were, however wanting. His face
was disturbed and troubled, while his clothes were disarranged and untidy.
He had evidently come with the intention of consulting with

(01:53:45):
Sherlock Holmes, for on perceiving his colleague, he appeared to
be embarrassed and put out. He stood in the center
of the room, fumbling nervously with his hat and uncertain
what to do. This is a most extraor mary case,
he said, at last, a most incomprehensible affair. Ah, you

(01:54:07):
find it so, mister Lestrade, cried Gregson triumphantly. I thought
you would come to that conclusion. Have you managed to
find the secutary, mister Joseph Stangerson? The secretary, mister Joseph Stangerson,
said Lestrade gravely, was murdered at Alladay's private hotel about

(01:54:29):
six o'clock this morning. End of chapter six, Chapter seven,
Light in the Darkness. The intelligence with which Lestrade greeted
us was so momentous and so unexpected, that we were
all three fairly dumfounded. Gregson sprang out of his chair

(01:54:51):
and upset the remainder of his whiskey and water. I
stared in silence at Sherlock Holmes, whose lips were compressed
and his brows drawn down over his eyes. Stangerson too,
he muttered, the plot thickens. He was quite thick enough before,
grumbled Lestrade, taking a chair. I seemed to have dropped

(01:55:13):
into a sort of council of war. Are you Are
you sure of this piece of intelligence, stammered Gregson. I've
just come from his room, said Lestrade. I was the
first to discover what had occurred. We have been hearing
Gregson's view of the matter. Holmes observed, would you mind
letting us know what you have seen and done. I

(01:55:35):
have no objection, Lestrade answered, seating himself, I freely confess
that I was of the opinion that Stangerson was concerned
in the death of Drebber. This fresh development has shown
me that I was completely mistaken. Full of the one idea,
I set myself to find out what had become of
the secretary. They have been seen together at Euston Station

(01:55:58):
about half past eight on the evening of the third.
At two in the morning, Drebber had been found in
the Brixton Road. The question which confronted me was to
find out our Stangerson had been employed between eight point
thirty and the time of the crime, and what had
become of him afterwards our telegraph to Liverpool, giving a

(01:56:19):
description of the man and warning them to keep a
watch upon the American boats. I then set to work,
calling upon all the hotels and lodging houses in the
vicinity of Houston. You see, I argue that if Drebber
and his companion had become separated, the natural course for
the latter would be to put up somewhere in the
vicinity for the night, and then to hang about the

(01:56:41):
station again next morning. They would be likely to agree
on some meeting place beforehand, remarked Holmes. So it proved
I spent the ol of yesterday evening in making inquiries
entirely without avail. This morning I began very early, and
at eight o'clock I reached Halliday's private hotel in Little

(01:57:03):
George Street. On my inquiry as to whether a mister
Stangerson was living there, they at once answered me in
the affirmative, no doubt you are the gentleman whom he
was expecting. They said, he has been waiting for a
gentleman for two days. Where is he now? I asked,
He's upstairs in bed. He wishes to be called. At nine.

(01:57:27):
I will go out and see him at once, I said.
It seemed to me that my sudden appearance might shake
his nerves and lead him to say something unguarded. The
Boots volunteered to show me the room. He was on
the second floor, and there was a small corridor leading
up to it. The Boots pointed out the door to
me and was about to go downstairs again when I

(01:57:49):
saw something that made me feel sickish. In spite of
my twenty years experience from under the door, there curled
a little red ribbon of blood which had meandered across
the passage and formed a little pool along the skirt
in at the other side. I gave a cry which

(01:58:10):
brought the boots back. He nearly fainted when he saw it.
The door was locked on the inside, but we put
our shoulders to it and knocked it in. The window
of the room was open, and beside the window all
huddled up laying the body of a man in his
night dress. He was quite dead, and had been for
some time, for his limbs were rigid and cold. When

(01:58:32):
we turned him over, the boots recognized him at once
as being the same gentleman who had engaged the room
under the name of Joseph Stangerson. The cause of death
was a deep stab in the left side, which must
have penetrated the art. And now comes the strangest part
of the affair. What do you suppose was above the

(01:58:53):
murdered man? I felt a creeping of the flesh and
the presentiment of coming horror. Even before Sherlock Holmes answered
the word racha written in letters of blood. He said,
that was it, said Lestrade in an awe struck voice,
And we were all silent for a while. There was

(01:59:15):
something so methodical and so incomprehensible about the deeds of
this unknown assassin that it imparted a fresh ghastliness to
his crimes. My nerves, which were steady enough on the
field of battle, tingled as I thought of it. The
mount was seen, said Lestrade. A milk boy, passing on

(01:59:36):
his way to the dairy, happened to walk down the
lane which leads from the Meuse at the back of
the hotel. He noticed that a ladder, which usually lay there,
was raised against one of the windows of the second floor,
which was wide open. After passing, he looked back and
saw a man descend the ladder. He came down so

(01:59:57):
quietly and openly that the boy imagined him to be
some carpenter or joiner at work in the hotel. He
took no particular notice of him, beyond thinking in his
own mind that it was early for him to be
at work. He has an impression that the man was tall,
had a reddish face, and was dressed in a long
brownish coat. He must have stayed in the room some

(02:00:19):
little time after the murder, for we found bloodstained water
in the basin where he'd washed his hands and marks
on the sheets where he deliberately wiped his knife. I
glanced at Holmes on hearing the description of the murderer,
which talied so exactly with his own. There was, however,
no trace of exultation or satisfaction upon his face. Did

(02:00:42):
you find nothing in the room which could furnish a
clue to the murderer? He asked nothing. Stangerson had drebber's
purse in his pocket, but it seems that this was usual,
as he did all the pain. There was eighty odd
pounds in it, but nothing had been taken. Whatever the
motive of these extraordinary crimes, robbery is certainly not one

(02:01:03):
of them. There were no papers or memoranda in the
murdered man's pocket, except a single telegram, dated from Cleveland
about a month ago, and containing the words j H
is in Europe. There was no name appended to the message,
and there was nothing else. Holmes asked nothing of importance.

(02:01:25):
The man's novel, with which he had read himself to sleep,
was lying upon the bed, and his pipe was on
a chair beside him. There was a glass of water
on the table, and on the window sill a small
chip ointment box containing a couple of pills. Sherlock Holmes
sprang from his chair with an exclamation of delight the
last link, he cried exultantly, My case is complete. The

(02:01:51):
two detectives stared at him in amazement. I have now
in my hands, my companion, said confidently, all the threads
which were form such a tangle. There are, of course
details to be filled in, but I am as certain
of all the main facts from the time that Drebbers
parted from Stangerson at the station up to the discovery

(02:02:11):
of the body of the latter, as if I had
seen them with my own eyes. I will give you
a proof of my knowledge. Could you lay your hand
upon those pills? I add them, said Lestrade, producing a
small white box. I took them and the purse and
the telegram, intending to have them put in a place
of safety at the police station. It was the merest

(02:02:34):
chance my taking those pills, for I am bound to
say that I do not attach any importance to them.
Give them here, said Holmes, now, doctor, turning to me,
are those ordinary pills? They certainly were not. They were
of a pearly gray color, small round, and almost transparent

(02:02:54):
against the light from their likeness and transparency. I should
imagine that they are solubly water, I remarked. Precisely so,
answered Holmes. Now, would you mind going down and fetching
that poor little devil of a terrier, which has been
bad so long, and which the landlady wanted you to
put out of its pain? Yesterday? I went downstairs and

(02:03:17):
carried the dog upstairs in my arms. Its labored breathing
and glazing eye showed that it was not far from
its end. Indeed, its snow white muzzle proclaimed that it
had already exceeded the usual term of canine existence. I
placed it upon a cushion on the rug. I will
now cut one of these pills in two, said Holmes,

(02:03:38):
and drawing his penknife, he suited the action to the word.
One half we return into the box for future purposes.
The other half I will place in this wine glass,
in which is a teaspoonful of water. You perceive that
our friend the doctor, is right, and that it readily dissolves.

(02:03:59):
This be very interesting, said Lestrade, in the injured tone
of one who suspects that he is being laughed at.
I cannot see, however, what it has to do with
the death of mister Joseph Stangerson. Patience, my friend, patience,
you will find in time that it has everything to
do with it. I shall now add a little milk

(02:04:20):
to make the mixture palatable, and on presenting it to
the dog, we find that he laps it up readily enough.
As he spoke, he turned the contents of the wine
glass into a saucer and placed it in front of
the terrier, who speedily licked it dry. Sherlock Holmes's earnest
demeanor had so far convinced us that we all sat

(02:04:41):
in silence, watching the animal intently and expecting some startling effect.
None such appeared. However, the dog continued to lie stretched
upon the cushion, breathing in a labored way, but apparently
neither the better nor the worse for its draft. Holmes
had take out his watch, and as minute followed minute

(02:05:02):
without result, an expression of the utmost chagrin and disappointment
appeared upon his features. He gnawed his lip, drummed his
fingers upon the table, and showed every other symptom of
acute impatience. So great was his emotion that I felt
sincerely sorry for him. While the two detectives smiled derisively

(02:05:24):
by no means, displeased at this check which he had met.
It can't be a coincidence, he cried at last, springing
from his chair and pacing wildly up and down the room.
It is impossible that it should be a mere coincidence.
The very pills which I suspected in the case of
Drebber are actually found after the death of Stangerson, and

(02:05:47):
yet they are inert. What can it mean? Surely my
whole chain of reasoning cannot have been false. It is impossible,
and yet this wretched dog is none the worse. Ah,
I have it. I have it. With a perfect shriek
of delight, he rushed to the box, cut the other

(02:06:07):
pill in two, dissolved it, added milk, and presented it
to the terrier. The unfortunate creature's tongue seemed hardly to
have been moistened in it before. It gave a convulsive
shiver in every limb, and lay as rigid and lifeless
as if it had been struck by lightning. Sherlock Holmes
drew a long breath and wiped the perspiration from his forehead.

(02:06:32):
I should have more faith, he said, I ought to
know by this time that when a fact appears to
be opposed to a long train of deductions, it invariably
proves to be capable of bearing some other interpretation. Of
the two pills in that box, one was of the
most deadly poison, and the other was entirely harmless. I

(02:06:52):
ought to have known that before I ever saw the
box at all. This last statement appeared to me to
be so startling that I could hardly believed that he was,
in his sober senses, there was the dead dog. However,
to prove that his conjectures had been correct. It seemed
to me that the mists in my own mind were
gradually clearing away, and I began to have a dim,

(02:07:14):
vague perception of the truth. All this seems strange to you,
continued Holmes, because you failed, at the beginning of the
inquiry to grasp the importance of the single real clue
which was presented to you. I had the good fortune
to seize upon that, and everything which has occurred since
then has served to confirm my original supposition, and indeed

(02:07:39):
was the logical sequence of it. Hence, things which have
perplexed you and made the case more obscure have served
to enlighten me and to strengthen my conclusions. It is
a mistake to confound strangeness with mystery. The most commonplace
crime is often the most mysterious because it presents no
new or special features from which deductions may be drawn.

(02:08:02):
This murder would have been infinitely more difficult to unravel
had the body of the victim been simply found lying
in the roadway without any of these utre and sensational
accompaniments which have rendered it remarkable. These strange details, far
from making the case more difficult, have really had the
effect of making it less. So mister Gregson, who had

(02:08:26):
listened to this address with considerable impatience, could contain himself
no longer. Look here, mister Sherlock Holmes, he said, We're
all ready to acknowledge that you are a smart man,
and you have your own methods of work in we
want something more more than theory and preaching. Now, though
it's a case of taking the man. I have made

(02:08:48):
my case out, and it seems I was wrong. Young
Charpentier could not have been engaged in this second affair.
Lestrade went after his man Stangerson, and it appears that
he was wrong too. You've thrown out ins here and
ince there, and seem to know more than we do.
But the time has come when we feel that we
have a right to ask you straight out how much

(02:09:11):
you do know of the business. Can you name the
man who did it? Ah? Can I help feeling that
Gregson is right, Sir, remarked Lestrade. We've both tried, and
we've both failed. You have remarked more than once since
I've been in the room, that you had all the
evidence which you require. Surely you're not withold it any longer.

(02:09:33):
Any delay in arresting the assassin, I observed, might give
him time to perpetrate some fresh atrocity. Thus pressed by us,
all Holmes showed signs of irresolution. He continued to walk
up and down the room, with his head sunk on
his chest and his brows drawn down, as was his
habit when lost in thought. There will be no more murders,

(02:09:57):
he said at last, stopping abruptly in facing us. You
can put that consideration out of the question. You have
asked me if I know the name of the assassin,
I do. The mere knowing of his name is a
small thing, however, compared with the power of laying our
hands upon him. This I expect very shortly to do.

(02:10:20):
I have good hopes of managing it through my own arrangements.
But it is a thing which needs delicate handling. For
we have a shrewd and desperate man to deal with,
who is supported, as I have had occasion to prove
by another, who is as clever as himself. As long
as this man has no idea that any one can
have a clue, there is some chance of securing him.

(02:10:42):
But if he had the slightest suspicion, he would change
his name and vanish in an instant among the four
million inhabitants of this great city. Without meaning to hurt
either of your feelings, I am bound to say that
I consider these men to be more than a match
for the official force, and that is why I have
not asked you your assistance. If I fail, I shall

(02:11:03):
of course incur all the blame due to this omission.
But that I am prepared for at present. I am
ready to promise that the instant that I can communicate
with you without endangering my own combinations, I shall do so.
Gregson and Lestrade seem to be far from satisfied by
this assurance or by the depreciating allusion to the detective police.

(02:11:28):
The former had flushed up to the roots of his
flaxen hair, while the other's beady eyes glistened with curiosity
and resentment. Neither of them had time to speak, however,
before there was a tap at the door, and the
spokesman of the street arabs. Young Wiggins introduced his insignificant
and unsavory person. Play Sir, he said, touching his forelock.

(02:11:51):
I have the cab downstairs, Good boy, said Holmes, blandly.
Why don't you introduce this patent at Scotland Yard, he continued,
taking a pair of steel handcuffs from a drawer. See
how beautifully the spring works. They fasten in an instant.
The old pattern is good enough, remarked Lestrade. If we

(02:12:11):
can only find a man to put him on. Very good,
very good, said Holmes, smiling. The cabman may as well
help me with my boxes. Just ask him to step up. Wiggins,
I was surprised to find my companion speaking as though
he were about to set out on a journey, since
he had not said anything to me about it. There

(02:12:32):
was a small portmanteau in the room, and this he
pulled out and began to strap. He was busily engaged
at it when the cabman entered the room. Just give
me a help with this buckle, cabman, he said, kneeling
over his task and never turning his head. The fellow
came forward with a somewhat sullen, defiant air, and put

(02:12:52):
down his hands to assist. At that instant, there was
a sharp click, the jangling of metal and shull. Holmes
sprang to his feet again. Gentlemen, he cried, with flashing eyes,
Let me introduce you to mister Jefferson Hope, the murderer
of Enoch Drebber and of Joseph Stangerson. The whole thing

(02:13:15):
occurred in a moment so quickly that I had no
time to realize it. I have a vivid recollection of
that instant, of Holmes's triumphant expression and the ring of
his voice, of the cabman's dazed, savage face as he
glared at the glittering handcuffs which had appeared, as if
by magic, upon his wrists. For a second or two

(02:13:36):
he might have been a group of statues. Then, with
an inarticulate roar of fury, the prisoner wrenched himself free.
From Holmes's grasp and hurled himself through the window. Woodwork
and glass gave way before him. But before he got
quite through, Gregson, Lestrade, and Holmes sprang upon him like
so many staghounds. He was dragged back into the room,

(02:13:59):
and then commenced a terrific conflict. So powerful and so
fierce was he that the four of us were shaken
off again and again. He appeared to have the convulsive
strength of a man in an epileptic fit. His face
and hands were terribly mangled by his passage through the glass.
The loss of blood had no effect in diminishing his resistance.

(02:14:21):
It was not until Lestrade succeeded in getting his hand
inside his neckcloth and half strangling him that we made
him realize that his struggles were of no avail. And
even then we felt no security until we had pinioned
his feet as well as his hands. That done, we
rose to our feet, breathless and panting. We have his cab,

(02:14:44):
said Sherlock Holmes. It will serve to take him to
Scotland Yard. And now, gentlemen, he continued, with a pleasant smile,
we have reached the end of our little mystery. You
are very welcome to put any questions that you like
to me now, and there is no no danger that
I will refuse to answer them. End of Chapter seven

(02:15:06):
and Part one, Part two. The Country of the Saints.
Chapter one. On the Great Alkali Plain, in the central
portion of the Great North American continent, there lies an
arid and repulsive desert which, for many a long year
served as a barrier against the advance of civilization. From

(02:15:29):
the Sierra Nevada to Nebraska, and from the Yellowstone River
in the north to the Colorado upon the south, is
a region of desolation and silence. Nor is nature always
in one mood throughout this grim district. It comprises snow
capped and lofty mountains and dark and gloomy valleys. There

(02:15:50):
are swift flowing rivers which dash through jagged canyons, and
there are enormous plains which in winter are white with snow,
and in summer are gray with the saline alkali dust.
They all preserve, however, the common characteristics of barrenness, in hospitality,
and misery. There are no inhabitants of this land of despair.

(02:16:13):
A band of poornees or of blackfeet may occasionally traverse
it in order to reach other hunting grounds. But the
hardiest of the braves are glad to lose sight of
those awesome plains and to find themselves once more upon
their prairies. The coyote skulks among the scrub, the buzzard
flaps heavily through the air, and the clumsy grizzly bear

(02:16:36):
lumbers through the dark ravines and picks up such sustenance
as it can amongst the rocks. These are the sole
dwellers in the wilderness. In the whole world, there can
be no more dreary view than that from the northern
slope of the Sierra Blanco. As far as the eye
can reach, stretches the great flat plain land, all dusted

(02:16:58):
over with patches of valve calli and intersected by clumps
of the dwarfish chaparral bushes. On the extreme verge of
the horizon lie a long chain of mountain peaks, with
their rugged summits flecked with snow. In this great stretch
of country, there is no sign of life, nor of
anything appertaining to life. There is no bird in the

(02:17:21):
steel blue heaven, no movement upon the dull, gray earth.
Above all, there is absolute silence. Listeners, one may there
is no shadow of a sound in all that mighty wilderness,
nothing but silence, complete and heart subduing silence. It has

(02:17:43):
been said there is nothing appertaining to life upon the
broad plain. That is hardly true. Looking down from the
Sierra Blanco, one sees a pathway traced out across the desert,
which winds away and is lost in the extreme distance.
It is rutted with wheels and trodden down by the
feet of many adventurers. Here and there there are scattered

(02:18:05):
white objects which glisten in the sun and stand out
against the dull deposit of alkali. Approach and examine them.
They are bones, some large and coarse, others smaller and
more delicate. The former have belonged to Oxen, and the
latter to men. For fifteen hundred miles, one may trace

(02:18:26):
this ghastly caravan route by these scattered remains of those
who had fallen by the wayside. Looking down on this
very scene, there stood upon the fourth of May eighteen
hundred and forty seven, a solitary traveler. His appearance was
such that he might have been the very genius sword

(02:18:47):
demon of the region. An observer would have found it
difficult to say whether he was nearer to forty or
to sixty. His face was lean and haggard, and the
brown parchment like skin was drawn highly over the projecting bones.
His long brown hair and beard were all flecked and
dashed with white. His eyes were sunken in his head

(02:19:10):
and burned with an unnatural luster, while the hand which
grasped his rifle was hardly more fleshy than that of
a skeleton. As he stood, he leaned upon his weapon
for support. And yet his tall figure and the massive
framework of his bones suggested a wiry and vigorous constitution.

(02:19:31):
His gaunt face, however, and his clothes, which hung so
baggily over his shriveled limbs, proclaimed what it was that
gave him that senile and decrepit appearance. The man was dying,
dying from hunger and from thirst. He had toiled painfully
down the ravine and on to this little elevation in

(02:19:52):
the vain hope of seeing some signs of water. Now,
the great salt plains stretched before his eyes, and the
distant belt of savage mountains without a sign anywhere of
plant or tree which might indicate the presence of moisture.
In all that broad landscape, there was no gleam of

(02:20:13):
hope north and east and west. He looked with wild,
questioning eyes, and then he realized that his wanderings had
come to an end, and that there on that barren
crag he was about to die? Why not here as
well as in a feather bed twenty years? Hence, he

(02:20:35):
muttered as he seated himself in the shelter of a boulder.
Before sitting down, he had deposited upon the ground his
useless rifle, and also a large bundle tied up in
a gray shawl, which he had carried slung over his
right shoulder. It appeared to be somewhat too heavy for
his strength, for in lowering it it came down the

(02:20:57):
ground with some little violence. Instantly there broke from the
gray parcel a little moaning cry, and from it protruded
a small, scared face with very bright brown eyes and
two little speckled, dimpled fists. You've hurt me, said a
childish voice, reproachfully, have I? Though the man answered penitently,

(02:21:22):
I didn't go for to do it. As he spoke,
he unwrapped the gray shawl and extricated a pretty little
girl of about five years of age, whose dainty shoes
and smart pink frock with its little linen apron all
bespoke a mother's care. The child was pale and one,
but her healthy arms and legs showed that she had

(02:21:43):
suffered less than her companion. How is it now, he
answered anxiously, for she was still rubbing the towsy golden
curls which covered the back of her head. Kiss it
and make it well, she said, with perfect gravity, shoving
the injured part up to him. That's what mother used

(02:22:04):
to do. Where's mother? Mother's gone? I guess you'll see
her before long gone, eh, said the little girl. Funny
she didn't say goodbye. She most always did if she
was just going over to Auntie's for tea, And now
she's been away three days. Say it's awful dry, ain't it?

(02:22:29):
Ain't no nor water nor nothing to eat. No, there
ain't nothing, dearie. You'll just need to be patient awhile
and then you'll be all right. Put your head up,
Begin me like that again, and you'll feel bullier. It
ain't easy to talk when your lips is like leather.
But I guess i'd best let you know how the
cards lie. What's that? You got? Pretty things? Fine things,

(02:22:55):
cried the little girl, enthusiastically holding up two glittering fragments
of her. When we goes back to home, I'll give
them to my brother Bob. You'll see prettier things than
them soon, said the man, confidently. You just wait a bit.
I was going to tell you though. You remember when
we left the river? Oh, yes, well we reckon. We'd

(02:23:19):
strike another river soon, do you see? But there was
something wrong compasses or map or something. And it didn't
turn up. Water ran out, just except a little drop
for the likes of you, and and and you couldn't
wash yourself, interrupted his companion, gravely, staring up at his
grimy visage. No nor drink, and mister bender, he was

(02:23:45):
the first to go, And then Indian Pete, and then
Missus McGregor, and then Johnny Holnes and then Dearie your mother.
Then mother's a dead or too, cried the little girl,
dropping her face in a pinafore and sobbing bitter. Yes,
they all went except you and me. Then I thought
there was some chance of water in this direction, so

(02:24:09):
I heaved you over my shoulder and we tramped it together.
It don't seem as though we've improved matters. There's an
almighty small chance for us. Now do you mean are
we going to die too? Asked the child, checking her
sobs and raising her tear stained face. I guess that's
about the size of it. Why didn't you say so before,

(02:24:33):
she said, laughing gleefully. You gave me such a fright.
Why of course, Now, as long as we die, we'll
be with mother again. Yes you will, dearie, and you too.
I'll tell her how awful good you've been. I'll bet
she meets us at the door of heaven with a
big pitcher of water and a lot of buckwheat cakes,

(02:24:54):
hot and toasted on both sides, like Bob and me
was fond of How long will it be? First? I
don't know, not very long. The man's eyes were fixed
upon the northern horizon. In the blue vault of the heaven,
there had appeared three little specks, which increased in size
every moment. So rapidly did they approach. They speedily resolved

(02:25:17):
themselves into three large brown birds, which circled over the
heads of the two wanderers, and then settled upon some
rocks which overlooked them. They were buzzards, the vultures of
the west, whose coming as the forerunner of death. Cocks
and hens, cried the little girl, gleefully, pointing at their
ill omened forms and clapping her hands to make them rise.

(02:25:41):
Say did God make this country? In course he did,
said her companion, rather startled by this unexpected question. He
made the country down in Illinois, and he made the Missouri.
Little girl continued, I guess somebody else made the country
in these parts. It's not nearly so well done. They

(02:26:04):
forgot the water and the trees. What would you think
of offering up prayer, the man asked, diffidently. It ain't night yet,
She answered, it don't matter. It ain't quite regular, but
he won't mind that. You bet you say over them
ones that you used to say every night in the

(02:26:24):
wagon when we is on the plains. Why don't you
say some yourself, the child asked, with wondering eyes. I
disremember them, he answered, I hain't said none since I
was half the hide of that gun. I guess it's
never too late. You say them out, and I'll stand

(02:26:44):
by and come in on the choruses. Then you'll need
to kneel down, and me too, she said, laying the
shawl out for that purpose. You got to put your
hands up like this. It makes you feel kind of good.
It was a strange sight, had there been anything but
the buzzers to see it. Side by side on the
narrow shawl knelt the two wanderers, the little prattling child

(02:27:09):
and the reckless, hardened adventurer. Her chubby face and his
haggard angular visage, were both turned up to the cloudless
heaven in heartfelt entreaty to that dread being with whom
they were face to face. While the two voices, the
one thin and clear, the other deep and harsh, united

(02:27:29):
in the entreaty for mercy and forgiveness. The prayer finished,
they resumed their seat in the shadow of the boulder,
until the child fell asleep, nestling upon the broad breast
of her protector. He watched over her slumber for some time,
but nature proved to be too strong for him. For
three days and three nights he had allowed himself neither

(02:27:52):
rest nor repose. Slowly, the eyelids drooped over the tired eyes,
and the head sunk lower and lower upon the breast,
until the man's grizzled beard was mixed with the gold
tresses of his companion, and both slept the same deep
and dreamless slumber. Had the wanderer remained awake for another

(02:28:15):
half hour, a strange sight would have met his eyes.
Far away, on the extreme verge of the alkali plane,
there rose up a little spray of dust, very slight
at first and hardly to be distinguished from the mists
of the distance, but gradually growing higher and broader until
it formed a solid, well defined cloud. This cloud continued

(02:28:39):
to increase in size until it became evident that it
could only be raised by a great multitude of moving creatures.
In more fertile spots, the observer would have come to
the conclusion that one of these great herds of bisons
which graze upon the prairie land, was approaching him. This
was obviously impossible in these arid whiles. As the whirl

(02:29:01):
of dust grew nearer to the solitary bluff upon which
the two castaways were reposing, the canvas covered tilts of
wagons and the figures of armed horsemen began to show
up through the haze, and the apparition revealed itself as
being a great caravan upon its journey for the west.
But what a caravan. When the head of it had

(02:29:24):
reached the base of the mountains, the rear was not
yet visible on the horizon. Right across the enormous plain
stretched the straggling array wagons and carts, men on horseback
and men on foot, innumerable women who staggered along under burdens,
and children who toddled beside the wagons or peeped out

(02:29:46):
from under the white coverings. This was evidently no ordinary
party of immigrants, but rather some nomad people who had
been compelled from stress of circumstances to seek themselves and
new country. There rose through the clear air a confused
clattering and rumbling from this great mass of humanity, With

(02:30:08):
the creaking of wheels and the neighing of horses. Loud
as it was, it was not sufficient to rouse the
two tired wayfarers above them. At the head of the
column there rode a score or more of grave, iron
faced men, clad in somber homespun garments and armed with rifles.

(02:30:29):
On reaching the base of the bluff, they halted and
held a short council among themselves. The wells are to
the right. My brothers, said one, a hard lipped, clean
shaven man with grizzly hair. To the right of the
Sierra Blanco. So we shall reach the Rio Grande, said another.

(02:30:49):
Fear not for water, cried a third. He who could
draw it from the rocks, will not now abandon his
own chosen people. Amen, Amen, rep bonded the whole party.
They were about to resume their journey when one of
the youngest and keenest eyed uttered an exclamation and pointed

(02:31:10):
up at the rugged crag above them. From its summit
there fluttered a little wisp of pink, showing up hard
and bright against the gray rocks behind. At the sight,
there was a general reining up of horses and unslinging
of guns, while fresh horsemen came galloping up to reinforce
the vanguard. The word redskins was on every lip. There

(02:31:34):
can't be any number of engines here, said the elderly
man who appeared to be in command. We have passed
the Pawnees, and there are no other tribes until we
crossed the great mountains. Shall I go forward and see,
brother Stangerson, asked one of the band and I and
I cried a dozen voices. Leave your horses below, and

(02:31:57):
we will await you here, the elder answered. Moment the
young fellows had dismounted, fastened their horses, and were ascending
the precipitous slope which led up to the object which
had excited their curiosity. They advanced rapidly and noiselessly, with
the confidence and dexterity of practiced scouts. The watchers from

(02:32:18):
the plain below could see them flip from rock to
rock until their figures stood out against the skyline. The
young man who had first given the alarm was leading them.
Suddenly his followers saw him throw up his hands as
though overcome with astonishment, and on joining him, they were
affected in the same way by the sight which met
their eyes. On the little plateau which crowned the barren hill,

(02:32:42):
there stood a single giant boulder, And against this boulder
there lay a tall man, long bearded and hard featured,
but of an excessive thinness. His placid face and regular
breathing showed that he was fast asleep. Beside him lay
a little child, with her round white arms encircling his brown,

(02:33:04):
sinewy neck, and her golden haired head resting upon the
breast of his velveteen tunic. Her rosy lips were parted,
showing the regular line of snow white teeth within, and
a playful smile played over her infantile features. Her plump,
little white legs terminating in white socks and neat shoes

(02:33:26):
with shining buckles, offered a strange contrast to the long,
shriveled members of her companion. On the ledge of rock,
above this strange couple there stood three solemn buzzards, who,
at the sight of the newcomers, uttered raucous screams of
disappointment and flapped sullenly away. The cries of the foul

(02:33:48):
birds awoke the two sleepers, who stared about them in bewilderment.
The man staggered to his feet and looked down upon
the plain which had been so desolate when sleep had
overtaken him, and which was now traversed by this enormous
body of men and of beasts. His face assumed an
expression of incredulity as he gazed, and he passed his

(02:34:12):
bony hand over his eyes. This is what they called delirium,
I guess, he muttered. The child stood beside him, holding
on to the skirt of his coat, and said nothing.
But looked all around her with the wondering, questioning gaze
of childhood. The rescuing party was speedily able to convince

(02:34:34):
the two castaways that their appearance was no delusion. One
of them seized the little girl and hoisted her upon
his shoulder, while two others supported her gaunt companion and
assisted him towards the wagons. My name is John Ferrier,
the wonderer, explained. Me and that little un are all

(02:34:56):
that's left to twenty one people. The rest is all dead,
athree erst and hunger way down in the south. Is
she your child? Asked some one. I guess she is now.
The other cried defiantly, she's mine because I saved her.
No man will take her from me. She's Lucy Ferrier

(02:35:16):
from this day on. Who are you? Though he continued
glancing with a curiosity at his stalwart, sunburned rescuers. There
seems to be a powerful lott ye nigh upon ten thousand,
said one of the young men. We are the persecuted
children of God, the chosen of the angel Moroner. I

(02:35:37):
never heard tell on him, said the wanderer. He appears
to have chosen a fair crowd. Are ye do not
jest at that which is sacred, said the other sternly,
we are of those who believe in those sacred writings
drawn in Egyptian letters on plates of beaten gold, which
were handed unto the Holy Joseph Smith at Palmyra. We

(02:35:58):
have come from Nauvoo, in the state of Illinois, where
we had founded our temple. We have come to seek
a refuge from the violent man and from the godless,
even though it be the heart of the desert. The
name of Navou evidently recalled recollections to John Ferrier. I see,
he said, you are the Mormons. We are the Mormons,

(02:36:23):
answered his companions with one voice, and where are you going?
We don't know. The hand of God is leading us
under the person of our prophet. You must come before him.
He shall say what is to be done with you.
They had reached the base of the hill by this
time and were surrounded by crowds of the pilgrims, pale faced,

(02:36:45):
meek looking women, strong laughing children, and anxious, earnest eyed men.
Many were the cries of astonishment and of commiseration which
arose from them when they perceived the youth of one
of the strangers and the destitution of the other. Their
escort did not halt, however, but pushed on, followed by
a great crowd of Mormons, until they reached a wagon

(02:37:08):
which was conspicuous for its great size and for the
gaudiness and smartness of its appearance. Six horses were yoked
to it, whereas the others were furnished with two or
at the most for a piece. Beside the driver there
sat a man who could not have been more than
thirty years of age, but whose massive head and resolute

(02:37:29):
expression marked him as a leader. He was reading a
brown backed volume, but as the crowd approached, he laid
it aside and listened attentively to an account of the episode.
Then he turned to the two castaways. If we'd take
you with us, he said, in solemn words, it can

(02:37:51):
only be as believers in our own creed, We shall
have no wolves in our fold. And better far that
your bones should bleach in this wilderness, then that you
should prove to be that little speck of decay which
in time corrupts the whole fruit. Will you come with
us on these terms? Guess I'll come with you on

(02:38:13):
any terms, said Ferrier, with such emphasis that the grave
elders could not restrain a smile. The leader alone retained
his stern, impressive expression. Take him, brother, Stangerson, he said,
give him food and drink, and the child likewise. Let

(02:38:33):
it be your task also to teach him our holy creed.
We have delayed long enough. Forward On on to Zion,
On on to Zion, cried the crowd of Mormons, and
the words rippled down the long caravan, passing from mouth

(02:38:54):
to mouth, until they died away in a dull murmur
in the far distance. With a cracking of whips and
the creaking of wheels, the great wagons got into motion,
and soon the whole caravan was winding along once more.
The elder, to whose care the two waifs had been committed,
led them to his wagon, where a meal was already

(02:39:16):
awaiting them. You shall remain here, he said, in a
few days you will have recovered from your fatigues. In
the meantime, remember that now and for ever you are
of our religion. Brigham Young has said it, and he
has spoken with the voice of Joseph Smith, which is
the voice of God. End of Chapter one, Book two,

(02:39:42):
Chapter two, The Flower of Utah. This is not the
place to commemorate the trials and privations endured by the
emigrant Mormons before they came to their final haven. From
the shores of the Mississippi to the western slopes of
the Rocky Mountains, they had struggled on with a constancy

(02:40:03):
almost unparalleled in history. The savage man and the savage beast, hunger, thirst, fatigue,
and disease. Every impediment which nature could place in the
way had all been overcome with Anglo Saxon tenacity. Yet
the long journey and the accumulated terrors had shaken the

(02:40:24):
hearts of the stoutest among them. There was not one
who did not sink upon his knees in heartfelt prayer
when they saw the broad Valley of Utah bathed in
the sunlight beneath them, and learned from the lips of
their leader that this was the promised land, and that
these virgin acres were to be theirs for evermore. Young

(02:40:48):
speedily proved himself to be a skillful administrator as well
as a resolute chief. Maps were drawn and charts prepared,
in which the future city was sketched out all around.
Farms were apportioned and allotted in proportion to the standing
of each individual. The tradesman was put to his trade,

(02:41:08):
and the artisan to his calling. In the town, streets
and squares sprang up as if by magic. In the
country there was draining and hedging, planting, and clearing, until
the next summer saw the whole country golden with the
wheat crop. Everything prospered in the strange settlement. Above all,

(02:41:29):
the great temple, which they had erected in the center
of the city, grew ever taller and larger. From the
first blush of dawn until the closing of the twilight.
The clatter of the hammer and the rasp of the
saw was never absent from the monument, which the immigrants
erected to him who had led them safe through many dangers.

(02:41:50):
The two castaways, John Ferrier, and the little girl who
had shared his fortunes and had been adopted as his daughter,
accompanied the Mormons to the end of their great pilgrimage.
Little Lucy Ferrier was borne along pleasantly enough in Elder
Stangerson's wagon, a retreat which she shared with the Mormon's
three wives and with his son, a headstrong, forward boy

(02:42:12):
of twelve. Having rallied with the elasticity of childhood, from
the shock caused by her mother's death. She soon became
a pet with the women and reconciled herself to this
new life in her moving canvas covered home. In the meantime, Ferrier,
having recovered from his privations, distinguished himself as a useful

(02:42:34):
guide and an indefatigable hunter. So rapidly did he gain
the esteem of his new companions, that when they reached
the end of their wonderings, it was unanimously agreed that
he should be provided with as large and as fertile
a tract of land as any of the settlers, with
the exception of young himself and of Stangerson, Campbell, Johnstone Andrebber,

(02:42:57):
who were the four principal elders on the farm thus acquired,
John Ferrier built himself a substantial log house, which received
so many additions in succeeding years that it grew into
a roomy villa. He was a man of a practical
turn of mind, keen in his dealings, and skillful with
his hands. His iron constitution enabled him to work morning

(02:43:20):
and evening at improving and tilling his lands. Hence it
came about that his farm and all that belonged to
him prospered exceedingly. In three years he was better off
than his neighbors. In six he was well to do,
in nine he was rich. And in twelve there were
not half a dozen men in the whole of Salt

(02:43:42):
Lake City who could compare with him. From the great
Inland Sea to the distant Warsatch Mountains, there was no
name better known than that of John Ferrier. There was
one way, and only one, in which he offended the
susceptibilities of his co religionists. No argument or persuasion could

(02:44:02):
ever induce him to set up a female establishment after
the manner of his companions. He never gave reasons for
this persistent refusal, but contented himself by resolutely and inflexibly
adhering to his determination. There were some who accused him
of lukewarmness in his adopted religion, and others who put

(02:44:22):
it down to greed of wealth and reluctance to incur expense.
Others again spoke of some early love affair, and of
a fair haired girl who had pined away on the
shores of the Atlantic. Whatever the reason, Ferrier remained strictly celibate.
In every other respect. He conformed to the religion of
the young settlement, and gained the name of being an

(02:44:44):
orthodox and straight walking man. Lucy Ferrier grew up within
the log house and assisted her adopted father in all
his undertakings. The keen air of the mountains and the
balsamic odor of the pine trees took the place of
nurse and mother to the young girl. As year succeeded
to year, she grew taller and stronger, her cheek more ruddy,

(02:45:08):
and her step more elastic. Many a wayfarer upon the
high road which ran by Ferrier's farm felt long forgotten
thoughts revive in their mind as they watched her little
girlish figure tripping through the wheat fields, or met her
mounted upon her father's mustang and managing it with all
the ease and grace of a true child of the West.

(02:45:31):
So the bud blossomed into a flower, and the year
which saw her father the richest of the farmers, left
her as fair a specimen of American girlhood as could
be found in the whole Pacific Slope. It was not
the father, however, who first discovered that the child had
developed into the woman. It seldom is in such cases

(02:45:53):
that mysterious change is too subtle and too gradual to
be measured by dates. Least of all does the maiden
herself know it until the tone of a voice or
the touch of a hand sets her heart thrilling within her,
and she learns, with a mixture of pride and of fear,
that anew and a larger nature has awoken within her.

(02:46:14):
There are few who cannot recall that day and remember
the one little incident which heralded the dawn of a
new life. In the case of Luciferia, the occasion was
serious enough in itself, apart from its future influence on
her destiny and that of many. Besides, it was a
warm June morning, and the latter day saints were as

(02:46:36):
busy as the bees, whose hive they have chosen for
their emblem. In the fields and in the streets rose
the same hum of human industry. Down the dusty high
roads defiled along streams of heavily laden mules, all heading
to the west, for the gold fever had broken out
in California, and the overland route lay through the city

(02:46:57):
of the elect There too were droves of sheep and
bullocks coming in from the outlying pasturelands, and trains of
tired immigrants, men and horses, equally weary of their interminable
journey through all this motley assemblage. Threading her way with
the skill of an accomplished rider, there galloped Lucy Ferrier,

(02:47:19):
her fair face flushed with the exercise and her long
chestnut hair floating out behind her. She had a commission
from her father in the city, and was dashing in
as she had done many a time before, with all
the fearlessness of youth, thinking only of her task and
how it was to be performed. The travel stained adventurers

(02:47:40):
gazed after her in astonishment, and even the unemotional Indians
journeying in with their pelties relaxed their accustomed stoicism as
they marveled at the beauty of the pale faced maiden.
She had reached the outskirts of the city when she
found the road blocked by a great drove of cattle
driven by a half dozen wild looking herdsmen from the plains.

(02:48:03):
In her impatience, she endeavored to pass this obstacle by
pushing her horse into what appeared to be a gap.
Scarcely had she got fairly into it, however, before the
beasts closed in behind her, and she found herself completely
embedded in the moving stream of fear sighed, long horned bullocks.
Accustomed as she was to deal with cattle, she was

(02:48:25):
not alarmed at her situation, but took advantage of every
opportunity to urge her horse on in the hopes of
pushing her way through the cavalcade. Unfortunately, the horns of
one of the creatures, either by accident or design, came
in violent contact with the flank of the mustang and
excited it to madness. In an instant, it reared up

(02:48:48):
upon its hind legs with a snort of rage, and
pranced and tossed in a way that would have unseated
any but a most skillful rider. The situation was full
of peril. Every plunge of the excite horse brought it
against the horns again and goaded it to fresh madness.
It was all that the girl could do to keep
herself in the saddle, yet a slip would mean a

(02:49:09):
terrible death under the hoofs of the unwieldy and terrified animals.
Unaccustomed to sudden emergencies, her head began to swim, and
her grip upon the bridle to relax. Choked by the
rising cloud of dust and by the steam from the
struggling creatures, she might have abandoned her efforts in despair,

(02:49:29):
but for a kindly voice at her elbow, which assured
her of assistance. At the same moment, a sinewy brown
hand caught the frightened horse by the curb, and, forcing
a way through the drove, soon brought her to the outskirts.
You're not heard, I hope, miss, said her preserver respectfully.

(02:49:49):
She looked up at his dark, fierce face and laughed saucily.
How awful frightened? She said, naively. Whoever would have thought
that Pancho would have been so scared by a lot
of cows? Thank God, you keep your seat, the other
said earnestly. He was a tall, savage looking young fellow,
mounted on a powerful roan horse and clad in the

(02:50:11):
rough dress of a hunter, with a long rifle slung
over his shoulders. I guess you are the daughter of
John Ferrier, he remarked. I saw you ride down from
his house. When you see him, ask him if he
remembers the Jefferson Hopes of Saint Louis. If he's the
same Ferrier. My father and he were pretty thick. Hadn't

(02:50:35):
you better come and ask yourself, she asked demurely. The
young fellow seemed pleased at the suggestion, and his dark
eyes sparkled with pleasure. I'll do so, he said. We've
been in the mountains for two months and are not
over and above in visiting condition. He must take us
as he finds us. He has a good deal to

(02:50:55):
thank you for, and so have I. She answered, he's
awful fun of me. If those cows had jumped on me,
he'd had never got over it. Neither would, I said
her companion. You, well, I don't see that. It wouldn't
make much matter to you anyhow, you ain't even a
friend of ours. The young hunter's dark face grew so

(02:51:19):
gloomy over this remark that Lucy Ferrier laughed aloud. There
I didn't mean that, she said. Of course you're a friend.
Now you must come and see us, And now I
must push along or father won't trust me with his
business any more. Goodbye, goodbye, he answered, raising his broad
sombrero and bending over her little hand, she wheeled her

(02:51:42):
mustang round and gave it a cut with her riding
whip and darted away down the broad road in a
rolling cloud of dust. Young Jefferson Hope rode on with
his companions, Gloomy and Taciturn. He and they had been
among the Nevada Mountains prospecting for silver, and were it
turning to Salt Lake City in the hope of raising

(02:52:02):
capital enough to work some loads which they had discovered.
He'd been as keen as any of them upon the
business until this sudden incident had drawn his thoughts into
another channel. The sight of the fair young girl, as
frank and wholesome as the Sierra breezes, had stirred his volcanic,
untamed heart to its very depths. When she had vanished

(02:52:25):
from his sight, he realized that a crisis had come
in his life, and that neither silver speculations nor any
other questions could ever be of such importance to him
as this new and all absorbing one. The love which
had sprung up in his heart was not the sudden,
changeable fancy of a boy, but rather the wild, fierce

(02:52:47):
passion of a man of strong will and imperious temper.
He had been accustomed to succeed in all that he undertook.
He swore in his heart that he would not fail
in this if human effort and human perseverance could render
him successful. He called on John Ferrier that night, and
many times again, until his face was a familiar one

(02:53:10):
at the farmhouse. John, cooped up in the valley and
absorbed in his work, had had little chance of learning
the news of the outside world during the last twelve years.
All this, Jefferson Hope was able to tell him, and
in a style which interested Lucy as well as her father.
He had been a pioneer in California and could narrate

(02:53:31):
many a strange tale of fortunes made and fortunes lost
in those wild halcyon days. He'd been a scout too,
and a trapper, a silver explorer, and a ranchman. Wherever
stirring adventures were to be had, Jefferson Hope had been
there in search of them. He soon became a favorite
with the old farmer, who spoke eloquently of his virtues

(02:53:55):
on such occasions. Lucy was silent, but her blushing cheek
and her bright, happy eyes showed only too clearly that
her young heart was no longer her own. Her honest
father may not have observed these symptoms, but they were
assuredly not thrown away upon the man who had won
her affections. It was a summer evening when he came

(02:54:18):
galloping down the road and pulled up at the gate.
She was at the doorway and came down to meet him.
He threw the bridle over the fence and strode up
the pathway. I am off, lucy, he said, taking her
two hands in his and gazing tenderly down into her face.
I won't ask you to come with me now, but

(02:54:39):
will you be ready to come when I'm here again?
And when will that be, she asked, blushing and laughing,
a couple of months at the outside. I'll come and
claim you then, my darling. There's no one who can
stand between us. And how about father, she asked. He
is given his consent provided we get these mines working,

(02:55:01):
all right, I have no fear on that head. Ah. Well,
of course, if you and Father have arranged it all,
there's no more to be said, She whispered, with her
cheek against his broad breast. Thank god, he said, hoarsely,
stooping and kissing her. It is settled. The longer I stay,

(02:55:22):
the harder it'll be to go. They're waiting for me
at the canyon. Good Bye, my own darling. Goodbye. In
two months you shall see me. He tore himself from
her as he spoke, and, flinging himself upon his horse,
galloped furiously away, never even looking around, as though afraid

(02:55:42):
that his resolution might fail him if he took one
glance at what he was leaving. She stood at the gate,
gazing after him until he vanished from her sight. Then
she walked back into the house, the happiest girl in
all Utah. End of Chapter two, Book two, Book two,

(02:56:05):
Chapter three, John Ferrier talks with the prophet. Three weeks
had passed since Jefferson Hope and his comrades had departed
from Salt Lake City. John Ferrier's heart was sore within
him when he thought of the young man's return and
of the impending loss of his adopted child. Yet her

(02:56:26):
bright and happy face reconciled him to the arrangement more
than any argument could have done. He had always determined,
deep down in his resolute heart, that nothing would ever
induce him to allow his daughter to wed a Mormon.
Such a marriage he regarded as no marriage at all,
but as a shame and a disgrace. Whatever he might

(02:56:47):
think of the Mormon doctrines. Upon that one point, he
was inflexible. He had to seal his mouth on the subject, however,
for to express an unorthodox opinion was a dangerous matter
in those days, in the land of the Saints, Yes,
a dangerous matter, so dangerous that even the most saintly

(02:57:07):
dared only whisper their religious opinions with bated breath, lest
something which fell from their lips might be misconstrued and
bring down a swift retribution upon them. The victims of
persecution had now turned persecutors on their own account, and
persecutors of the most terrible description. Not the Inquisition of Seville,

(02:57:30):
nor the German Weimgricht, nor the secret societies of Italy
were ever able to put a more formidable machinery in
motion than that which cast a cloud over the state
of Utah. Its invisibility and the mystery which was attached
to it made this organization doubly terrible. It appeared to

(02:57:50):
be omniscient and omnipotent, and yet was neither seen nor heard.
The man who held out against the Church vanished away,
and none knew whether he had gone or what had
befallen him. His wife and his children awaited him at home,
But no father ever returned to tell them how he

(02:58:10):
had fared at the hands of his secret judges. A
rash word or a hasty act was followed by annihilation.
And yet none knew what the nature might be of
this terrible power which was suspended over them. No wonder
that men went about in fear and trembling, and that
even in the heart of the wilderness they dared not

(02:58:31):
whisper the doubts which oppressed them. At first, this vague
and terrible power was exercised only upon the recalcitrants, who,
having embraced the Mormon faith, wished afterwards to pervert or
to abandon it. Soon, however, it took a wider range.
The supply of adult women was running short, and polygamy

(02:58:53):
without a female population on which to draw was a
barren doctrine. Indeed, strange rumours began to be banded about,
rumors of murdered immigrants and rifled camps in regions where
Indians had never been seen. Fresh women appeared in the
harems of the elders, women who pined and wept, and
bore upon their faces the traces of an unextinguishable horror.

(02:59:18):
Belated wanderers upon the mountains spoke of gangs of armed men, masked,
stealthy and noiseless, who flitted by them in the darkness.
These tales and rumors took substance and shape, and were
corroborated and re corroborated until they resolved themselves into a
definite name. To this day, in the lonely ranches of

(02:59:42):
the west, the name of the Danite Band or the
Avenging Angels is a sinister and an ill omened one.
Fuller knowledge of the organization which produced such terrible results
served to increase, rather than to lessen, the horror which
it inspired in the minds of men. None knew who

(03:00:02):
belonged to this ruthless society. The names of the participators
in the deeds of blood and violence done under the
name of religion were kept profoundly secret. The very friend
to whom you communicated your misgivings as to the prophet
and his mission, might be one of those who would
come forth at night with fire and sword to exact

(03:00:24):
a terrible reparation. Hence, every man feared his neighbor, and
none spoke of the things which were nearest his heart.
One fine morning, John Ferrier was about to set out
to his wheat fields when he heard the click of
the latch, and, looking through the window, saw a stout,

(03:00:45):
sandy haired, middle aged man coming up the pathway. His
heart leapt to his mouth, for this was none other
than the Great Brigham Young, himself full of trepidation, for
he knew that such a boded him, Little good Ferrier
ran to the door to greet the Mormon chief. The latter, however,

(03:01:06):
received his salutations coldly, and followed him with a stern
face into the sitting room. Brother Ferrier, he said, taking
a seat and eyeing the farmer keenly from under his
light colored eyelashes. The true Believers have been good friends
to you. We picked you up when you were starving

(03:01:27):
in the desert. We shed our food with you, led
you safe to the chosen valley, gave you a goodly
share of land, and allowed you to wax rich under
our protection. Is this not so? It is so, answered
John Ferrier. In return for all this we asked but

(03:01:49):
one condition. That was that you should embrace the true
faith and conform in every way to its usages. This
you promised to do, And this if common report says,
truly you have neglected, and how have I neglected it?
Asked Faria, throwing out his hands in expostulation. Have I

(03:02:12):
not given to the common fund? Have I not attended
at the temple? Have I not where are your wives?
Asked young looking around him, Call them in that I
may greet them. It is true that I have not married,
Feria answered, But women were few, and there were many

(03:02:33):
who had better claims than I. I was not a
lonely man. I had my daughter to attend to my wants.
He is of that daughter that I would speak to you,
said the leader of the Mormons. She has grown to
be the flower of Utah and has found favor in
the eyes of many who are high in the land.

(03:02:54):
John Ferrier groaned internally. There are stories of her which
I would fain disbelieve, stories that she is sealed to
some gentile. This must be the gossip of idle tongues.
What is the thirteenth rule in the Code of the
Sainted Joseph Smith? Let every maiden of the true faith

(03:03:18):
marry one of the elect For if she wed a gentile,
she commits a grievous sin. This being so, it is
impossible that you, who profess the holy creed, should suffer
your daughter to violate it. John Ferrier made no answer,

(03:03:38):
but he played nervously with his riding whip. Upon this
one point, your whole faith shall be tested. So it
has been decided in the Sacred Council of four. The
girl is young, and we would not have her wed
gray hairs. Neither would we deprive her of all choice.

(03:03:58):
We elders have many heifers, but our children must also
be provided. Stangerson has a son, and Rebber has a son,
and either of them would gladly welcome your daughter to
their house. Let her choose between them. They are young
and rich and of the true faith. What say you

(03:04:19):
to that? Ferrier remained silent for some little time, with
his brows knitted. You will give us time, he said,
at last. My daughter is very young. She is scarce
of an age to marry. She shall have a month
to choose, said young rising from his seat. At the

(03:04:41):
end of that time, she shall give her answer. He
was passing through the door when he turned with flushed
face and flashing eyes. It were better for you, John Ferrier.
He thundered, that you and she were now lying blanched
skeletons upon the the Sierra Blanco. Then that you should

(03:05:02):
put your weak wills against the orders of the Holy Four.
With a threatening gesture of his hand, he turned from
the door, and Ferrier heard his heavy step scrunching along
the shingly path. He was still sitting with his elbows
upon his knees, considering how he should broach the matter

(03:05:23):
to his daughter, when a soft hand was laid upon his,
and looking up he saw her standing beside him. One
glance at her pale, frightened face showed him that she
had heard what had passed. I couldn't help it, she said,
in answer to his look. His voice rang through the house. Oh, father, father,

(03:05:46):
what shall we do? Don't you scare yourself? He answered,
drawing her to him and passing his broad rough hand
caressingly over her chestnut hair. We'll fix it up somehow
or other. You don't find your fancy cand of lessening
for this chap, do you a sob? And the squeeze
of his hand was her only answer, No, of course not.

(03:06:11):
I shouldn't care to bear you say you did. He's
a likely lad, and he's a Christian, which is more
than these folk here in spite all their praying and preaching.
There's a party starting for Nevada tomorrow, and I'll manage
to send him a message letting him know the hole
we're in. If I know anything of that young man,
he'll be back here with a speed that would whip

(03:06:32):
electra telegraphs. Lucy laughed through her tears at her father's description.
When he comes, he will advise us for the best.
But it is for you that I'm frightened, dear one.
Here is one hears such dreadful stories about those who
oppose the prophet. Something terrible always happens to them. But

(03:06:53):
we haven't opposed him yet, her father answered, it'll be
time to look out for squalls. When we do. We
have a clear month before us. At the end of that,
I guess we'd best shin out of Utah. Leave Utah.
That's about the size of it. But the farm we'll
raise as much as we can and money and let

(03:07:16):
the rest go. To tell the truth, Lucy, it isn't
the first time I've thought of doing it. I don't
care about knucklin under to any man as these folk
do to their darned prophet. I'm a free born American,
and it's all new to me. Guess I'm too old
to learn. If he comes browsing about this farm, he

(03:07:36):
might chance to run up against a charge of buckshot
traveling in the opposite direction. But they won't let us leave.
His daughter objected, Wait till Jefferson comes, and we'll soon
manage that. In the meantime, don't you fret yourself, my dearie,
and don't get your eyes swelled up, else he'll be
walking into me when he sees you. There's nothing to

(03:07:58):
be a feared about, and there's no danger at all.
John Ferrier uttered these consoling remarks in a very confident tone,
which she could not help observing that he paid unusual
care to the fastening of the doors that night, and
that he carefully cleaned and loaded the rusty old shotgun
which hung upon the wall of his bedroom. End of

(03:08:21):
Chapter three, Book two, Chapter four, A Flight for Life.
On the morning which followed his interview with the Mormon prophet,
John Ferrier went into Salt Lake City, and, having found
his acquaintance who was bound for the Nevada Mountains, he
entrusted him with his message to Jefferson Hope. In it,

(03:08:44):
he told the young man of the imminent danger which
threatened them, and how necessary it was that he should return.
Having done thus, he felt easier in his mind, and
returned home with a lighter heart. As he approached his farm,
he was surprised to see a horse hitched to each
of the posts of the gate. Still more surprised was

(03:09:06):
he on entering to find two young men in possession
of his sitting room. One with a long, pale face,
was leaning back into the rocking chair and with his
feet cocked up upon the stove. The other, a bull
necked youth with coarse bloated features, was standing in front
of the window with his hands in his pocket, whistling
a popular hymn. Both of them nodded to Ferrier as

(03:09:30):
he entered, and the one in the rocking chair commenced
the conversation. Maybe you don't know us, He said, this
here is the son of Elder Drebber, and I'm Joseph Stangerson,
who travel with you in the desert. When the Lord
stretched out his hand and gathered you into the true fold,
as he will with all the nations in his own

(03:09:51):
good time, said the other, in a nasal voice. He
grind us slowly but exceeding small Ferry bowed coldly. He
had guessed who his visitors were. We have come, continued Stangerson,
at the advice of our fathers, to solicit the hand

(03:10:11):
of your daughter, for whichever of us may seem good
to you and to her. As I have but four wives,
and brother Drebber here has seven, it appears to me
that my claim is the stronger one. Nay, nay, brother Stangson,
cried the other. The question is not how many wives
we have, but how many we can keep. My father

(03:10:34):
has now given over his mills to me, and I
am the richer man. But my prospects are better, said
the other warmly. When the Lord removes my father, I
shall have his tanning yard and his leather factory. Then
I am your elder, and am higher in the church.
It will be for the maiden to decide, rejoined young Drebber,

(03:10:58):
smirking at his own red in the glass. We will
leave it all to her decision. During this dialog, John
Ferrier had stood fuming in the doorway, hardly able to
keep his riding whip from the backs of his two visitors.
Look here, he said, at last, striding up to them,

(03:11:19):
when my daughter summons you. You can come, but until
then I don't want to see your faces again. The
two young Mormons stared at him in amazement. In their eyes,
this competition between them for the maiden's hand was the
highest of honors, both to her and her father. There
are two ways out of the room, cried Ferrier. There's

(03:11:42):
the door and there's the window. Which do you care
to use. His brown face looked so savage, and his
gaunt hands so threatening, that his visitors sprang to their
feet and beat a hurried retreat. The old farmer followed
them to the door. Let me know when you have
settled which it is to be, he said, sardonically. You

(03:12:04):
shall smart for this, Stangerson cried white with rage. You
have defied the prophet and the counsel of four. You
shall rue it to the end of your days. The
hem of the Lord shall be heavy upon you, cried
young Drebber. He will arise and smite you. Then I'll
start the smiting, exclaimed Ferrier furiously, and would have rushed

(03:12:25):
upstairs for his gun, had not Lucy seized him by
the arm and restrained him before he could escape from her.
The clatter of horses hoofs told him that they were
beyond his reach, the young canting rascals, he exclaimed, wiping
the perspiration from his forehead. I would sooner see you
in your grave, my girl, than the wife of either

(03:12:46):
of them, and so should I father. She answered with spirit.
But Jefferson will soon be here. Yes, it will not
be long before he comes. The sooner the better, for
we do not know what their next move may be.
It was indeed high time that some one capable of
giving advice and help should come to the aid of

(03:13:09):
the sturdy old farmer and his adopted daughter. In the
whole history of the settlement, there had never been such
a case of rank disobedience to the authority of the elders.
If minor errors were punished so sternly, what would be
the fate of this arch rebel. Ferrier knew that his
wealth and position would be of no avail to him.

(03:13:31):
Others as well known and as rich as himself had
been spirited away before now, and their goods given over
to the church. He was a brave man, but he
trembled at the vague, shadowy terrors which hung over him.
Any known danger he could face with a firm lip,
But this suspense was unnerving. He concealed his fears from

(03:13:53):
his daughter, however, and affected to make light of the
whole matter, though she, with the keen eye of love,
saw plainly that he was ill at ease. He expected
that he would receive some message or remonstrance from Young
as to its conduct, and he was not mistaken, though
it came in an unlooked for manner. Upon rising next morning,

(03:14:17):
he found, to his surprise a small square of paper
pinned on to the coverlet of his bed, just over
his chest. On it was printed, in bold, straggling letters,
twenty nine days are given you for amendment. And then
the dash was more fear inspiring than any threat could

(03:14:38):
have been. How this warning came into his room puzzled
John Ferrier sorely, for his servants slept in an outhouse,
and the doors and windows had all been secured. He
crumpled the paper up and said nothing to his daughter,
But the incident struck a chill into his heart. The

(03:14:58):
twenty nine days were evidently the balance of the month
which Young had promised. What strength or courage could avail
against an enemy armed with such mysterious powers the hand
which fastened. That pin might have struck him to the heart,
and he could never have known who had slain him.
Still more shaken was he. Next morning they had sat

(03:15:20):
down to their breakfast when Lucy, with a cry of surprise,
pointed upwards. In the center of the ceiling was scrawled
with a burned stick, apparently the number twenty eight. To
his daughter, it was unintelligible, and he did not enlighten her.
That night he sat up with his gun and kept watch,
and ward he saw and he heard nothing. And yet

(03:15:44):
in the morning a great twenty seven had been painted
upon the outside of his door. Thus day followed day,
and as sure as morning came, he found that his
unseen enemies had kept their register and had marked up
in some conspicuous place position. How many days were still
left to him out of the month of grace. Sometimes

(03:16:06):
the fatal numbers appeared upon the walls, sometimes upon the floors.
Occasionally they were on small placards stuck upon the garden
gate or the railings. With all his vigilance, John Ferrier
could not discover whence these daily warnings proceeded. A horror
which was almost superstitious, came upon him at the sight

(03:16:27):
of them, he became haggard and restless, and his eyes
had the troubled look of some hunted creature. He had
but one hope in life now, and that was for
the arrival of the young hunter from Nevada. Twenty had
changed to fifteen, and fifteen to ten, but there was
no news of the absentee. One by one the numbers

(03:16:50):
dwindled down, and still there came no sign of him.
Whenever a horseman clattered down the road, or a driver
shouted at his team, the old farmer hurried to the gate,
thinking that help had arrived at last, at last. When
he saw five give way to four, and that again
to three, he lost heart and abandoned all hope of escape.

(03:17:15):
Single handed, and with his limited knowledge of the mountains
which surrounded the settlement, he knew that he was powerless.
The more frequented roads were strictly watched and guarded, and
none could pass along them without an order from the
council turn which way he would. There appeared to be
no avoiding the blow which hung over him. Yet the

(03:17:36):
old man never wavered in his resolution to part with
life itself. Before he consented to what he regarded as
his daughter's dishonor He was sitting alone one evening, pondering
deeply over his troubles and searching vainly for some way
out of them. That morning had shown the figure two
upon the wall of his house, and the next day

(03:17:58):
would be the last of the allotted time. What was
to happen then? All manner of vague and terrible fancies
filled his imagination, and his daughter What was to become
of her after he was gone? Was there no escape
from the invisible network which was drawn all around them?
He sank his head upon the table and sobbed at

(03:18:19):
the thought of his own impotence. What was that? In
the silence? He heard a gentle scratching sound, low but
very distinct, in the quiet of the night. It came
from the door of the house. Ferrier crept into the
hall and listened intently. There was a pause for a

(03:18:40):
few moments, and then the low, insidious sound was repeated.
Someone was evidently tapping very gently upon one of the
panels of the door. Was it some midnight assassin who
had come to carry out the murderous orders of the
secret tribunal? Or was it some agent who was marking
up that the last day of great had arrived. John

(03:19:02):
Ferrier felt that instant death would be better than the
suspense which shook his nerves and chilled his heart. Springing forward,
he drew the bolt and threw the door open. Outside,
all was calm and quiet, The night was fine, and
the stars were twinkling brightly overhead. The little front garden
lay before the farmer's eyes, bounded by the fence and gate.

(03:19:26):
But neither there, nor on the road was any human
being to be seen. With a sigh of relief, Ferrier
looked right and to left, until happening to glance straight
down at his own feet, he saw, to his astonishment
a man lying flat upon his face upon the ground,
with arms and legs all asprawl. So unnerved was he

(03:19:48):
at the sight that he leaned up against the wall
with his hand to his throat to stifle his inclination
to call out. His first thought was that the prostrate
figure was that of some wounded or dying man. But
as he watched it, he saw it writhe along the
ground and into the hall with the rapidity and noiselessness
of a serpent. Once within the house, the man sprang

(03:20:11):
to his feet, closed the door, and revealed to the
astonished farmer the fierce face and resolute expression of Jefferson Hope,
good God, gasped John Ferrier. How you scared me? Whatever
made you come in like that? Give me food, the
other said, hoarsely. I have had no time for bite

(03:20:33):
or sup for eight and forty hours. He flung himself
upon the cold meat and bread which were still lying
upon the table from his host's supper, and devoured it voraciously.
Does Lucy bear up well, he asked, when he had
satisfied his hunger. Yes, she does not know the danger.
Her father answered, that is well. The house is watched

(03:20:56):
on every side. That is why I crawled my way
up to it. They may be done sharp, but they're
not quite sharp enough to watch awasou hunter. John Ferrier
felt a different man now that he realized that he
had a devoted ally. He seized the young man's leathery
hand and wrung it cordially. You're a man to be

(03:21:16):
proud of, he said. There are not many who would
come to share our danger and our troubles. You've hit
it there, pard, The young hunter answered, I have a
respect for you, but if you are alone in this business,
I'd think twice before I put my head into such
a hornet's nest. It's Lucy that brings me here, and

(03:21:38):
before harm comes on her, I guess there'll be one
less of the Hope family in Utah. What are we
to do? Tomorrow is your last day, and unless you
act to night, you're lost. I have a mule and
two horses waiting in the eagle ravine. How much money
have you? Two thousand dollars in gold and five in notes?

(03:21:59):
That will do? I have as much more to add
to it. We must push for Carson City through the mountains.
You had best wake Lucy. It is as well that
the servants do not sleep in the house. While Ferrier
was absent preparing his daughter for the approaching journey, Jefferson
Hope packed all the eatables that he could find into

(03:22:20):
a small parcel and filled a stoneware jar with water,
for he knew by experience that the mountain wells were
few and far between. He had hardly completed his arrangements
before the farmer returned with his daughter, all dressed and
ready for a start. The greeting between the lovers was
warm but brief, for minutes were precious, and there was

(03:22:41):
much to be done. We must make our start at once,
said Jefferson Hope, speaking in a low but resolute voice,
like one who realizes the greatness of the peril, but
has steeled his heart to meet it. The front and
back entrances are watched, but with caution, we may get
away through the side window and across the fields. Once

(03:23:01):
on the road, we are only two miles from the ravine,
where the horses are waiting. By daybreak we should be
half way through the mountains. What if we are stopped,
asked Ferrier. Hope slapped the revolver butt which protruded from
the front of his tunic. If they are too many
for us, we shall take two or three of them
with us, he said, with a sinister smile. The lights

(03:23:25):
inside the house had all been extinguished, and from the
darkened window Ferrier peered over the fields which had been
his own, and which he was now about to abandon forever.
He had long nerved himself to the sacrifice, however, and
the thought of the honor and happiness of his daughter
outweighed any regret at his ruined fortunes. All looked so

(03:23:46):
peaceful and happy, the rustling trees and the broad, silent
stretch of grain land that it was difficult to realize
that the spirit of murder lurked through it all. Yet
the white face and expression of the young hunter showed
that in his approach to the house he had seen
enough to satisfy him. Upon that head, ferrier carried the

(03:24:10):
bag of gold and notes. Jefferson Hope had the scanty
provisions and water, while Lucy had a small bundle containing
a few of her more valued possessions. Opening the window
very slowly and carefully, they waited until a dark cloud
had somewhat obscured the night, and then one by one

(03:24:30):
passed through into the little garden with bated breath and
crouching figures. They stumbled across it and gained the shelter
of the hedge, which they skirted until they came to
the gap which opened into the corn fields. They had
just reached this point when the young man seized his
two companions and dragged them down into the shadow, where

(03:24:51):
they lay silent and trembling. It was as well that
his prairie training had given Jefferson Hope the ears of
a lynx. He and his frie friends had hardly crouched
down before the melancholy hooting of a mountain owl was
heard within a few yards of them, which was immediately
answered by another hoot at a small distance. At the

(03:25:12):
same moment, a vague, shadowy figure emerged from the gap
for which they had been making, and uttered the plaintive
signal cry again, on which a second man appeared out
of the obscurity. Tomorrow at midnight, said the first, who
appeared to be an authority. When the whip poor will
calls three times, it is well returned the other. Shall

(03:25:36):
I tell brother Drebber pass it on to him, and
from him to the others. Nine to seven, Seven to five,
repeated the other, and the two figures flitted away in
different directions. Their concluding words had evidently been some form
of sign and countersign the instant that their footsteps had

(03:25:58):
died away in the distance. Jefferson Hope sprang to his feet, and,
helping his companions through the gap, led the way across
the fields at the top of his speed, supporting and
half carrying the girl when her strength appeared to fail her.
Hurry on, hurry on, he gasped, from time to time
way through the line of sentinels. Everything depends on speed,

(03:26:20):
hurry on. Once on the high road, they made rapid progress.
Only once did they meet any one, and then they
managed to slip into a field and so avoid recognition.
Before reaching the town, the hunter branched away into a
rugged and narrow footpath which led to the mountains. Two dark,
jagged peaks loomed above them through the darkness, and the

(03:26:44):
defile which led between them was the Eagle Canyon, in
which the horses were waiting for them. With irony instinct,
Jefferson Hope picked his way among the great boulders and
along the bed of a dried up water course until
he came to the retired corner, screened with rocks, where
the faithful animals had been picketed. The girl was placed

(03:27:06):
upon the mule, and all Ferrier upon one of the
horses with his money bag, while Jefferson Hope led the
other along the precipitous and dangerous path. It was a
bewildering route for any one who was not accustomed to
face nature in her wildest moods. On the one side,
a great crag towered up a thousand feet or more,

(03:27:27):
black stern and menacing with long basaltic columns. Upon its
rugged surface, like the ribs of some petrified monster. On
the other hand, a wild chaos of boulders and debris
made all advance impossible. Between the two ran the irregular track,
so narrow in places that they had to travel in

(03:27:48):
Indian file, and so rough that only practiced riders could
have traversed it at all. Yet, in spite of all
dangers and difficulties, the hearts of the fugitives were light
within them, for every step increased the distance between them
and the terrible despotism from which they were flying. They

(03:28:08):
soon had a proof, however, that they were still within
the jurisdiction of the Saints. They had reached the very
wildest and most desolate portion of the pass when the
girl gave a startled cry and pointed upwards on a
rock which overlooked the track, Showing out, dark and plain
against the sky, there stood a solitary sentinel. He saw

(03:28:29):
them as soon as they perceived him, and his military
challenge of who goes there rang through the silent ravine
travelers for Nevada, said Jefferson Hope, with his hand upon
the rifle which hung by his saddle. They could see
the lonely watcher, fingering his gun and peering down at them,
as if dissatisfied at their reply. By whose permission he asked,

(03:28:54):
the Holy four answered Ferrier. His Mormon experiences had taught
him that that was the highest authority to which he
could refer. Nine from seven cried the sentinel. Seven from
five returned Jefferson Hope, promptly, remembering the countersign which he
had heard in the garden. Pass and the Lord, go

(03:29:17):
with you, said the voice from above. Beyond his post.
The path broadened out, and the horses were able to
break into a trot. Looking back, they could see the
solitary watcher leaning upon his gun, and knew that they
had passed the outlying post of the Chosen People, and

(03:29:37):
that freedom lay before them. End of Book two, Chapter four,
Book two, Chapter five. The Avenging Angels all night their
course lay through intricate defiles and over irregular and rock
strewn paths. More than once they lost their way, but

(03:29:57):
Hope's intimate knowledge of the mountains enable them to regain
the track once more. When morning broke, a scene of marvelous,
though savage beauty lay before them in every direction, the
great snow capped peaks hemmed them in peeping over each
other's shoulders to the far horizon. So steep were the
rocky banks on either side of them that the larch

(03:30:20):
and the pine seemed to be suspended over their heads,
and to need only a gust of wind to come
hurtling down upon them. Nor was the fear entirely an illusion,
for the barren valley was thickly strewn with trees and
boulders which had fallen in a similar manner. Even as
they passed, a great rock came thundering down with a

(03:30:41):
hoarse rattle, which woke the echoes in the silent gorges
and startled the weary horses into a gallop. As the
sun rose slowly above the eastern horizon, the caps of
the great mountains lit up, one after the other, like
lamps at a festival, until they were all ruddy and glowing.
The magnificent spectacle cheered the hearts of the three fugitives

(03:31:05):
and gave them fresh energy. At a wild torrent which
swept out of a ravine, they called a halt and
watered their horses while they partook of a hasty breakfast.
Lucy and her father would fain have rested longer, but
Jefferson Hope was inexorable. They will be upon our track
by this time, he said, everything depends upon our speed.

(03:31:29):
Once safe in Carson, we may rest for the remainder
of our lives. During the whole of that day they
struggled on through the defiles, and by evening they calculated
that they were more than thirty miles from their enemies.
At night time, they chose the base of a beetling crag,
where the rocks offered some protection from the chill wind,

(03:31:49):
and there, huddled together for warmth, they enjoyed a few
hours sleep. Before daybreak, however, they were up and on
their way once more. They had seen no sun kines
of any pursuers, and Jefferson Hope began to think that
they were fairly out of reach of the terrible organization
whose enmity they had incurred. He little knew how far

(03:32:11):
that iron grass could reach, or how soon it was
to close upon them and crush them. About the middle
of the second day of their flight, their scanty store
of provisions began to run out. This gave the hunter
little uneasiness, however, for there was game to be had
among the mountains. And he had frequently before had to

(03:32:32):
depend upon his rifle for the needs of life. Choosing
a sheltered nook, he piled together a few dried branches
and made a blazing fire at which his companions might
warm themselves, for they were now nearly five thousand feet
above sea level, and the air was bitter and keen.
Having tethered the horses and bade Lucie adieu, he threw

(03:32:54):
his gun over his shoulder and set out in search
of whatever chance might throw in his way. Looking back,
he saw the old man and the young girl crouching
over the blazing fire, while the three animals stood motionless
in the background. Then the intervening rocks hid them from
his view. He walked for a couple of miles through

(03:33:15):
one ravine after another without success, though from the marks
upon the bark of the trees and other indications, he
judged that there were numerous bears in the vicinity. At last,
after two or three hours fruitless search, he was thinking
of turning back in despair, when casting his eyes upwards,
he saw a sight which sent a thrill of pleasure

(03:33:36):
through his heart. On the edge of a jutting pinnacle,
three or four hundred feet above him there stood a
creature somewhat resembling a sheep in appearance, but armed with
a pair of gigantic horns. The big Horn, for so
it is called, was acting probably as a guardian over
a flock which were invisible to the hunter, but fortunately

(03:33:59):
it was heading in the opposite direction and had not
perceived him. Lying on his face. He rested his rifle
upon a rock and took a long and steady aim.
Before drawing the trigger. The animal sprang into the air,
tottered for a moment upon the edge of the precipice,
and then came crashing down into the valley beneath. The

(03:34:21):
creature was too unwieldy to lift, so the hunter contented
himself with cutting away one haunch and part of the flank.
With his trophy over his shoulder, he hastened to retrace
his steps, for the evening was already drawing in. He
had hardly started, however, before he realized the difficulty which
faced him. In his eagerness, he had wandered far past

(03:34:44):
the ravines which were known to him, and it was
no easy matter to pick out the path which he
had taken. The valley in which he found himself divided
and subdivided into many gorges, which was so like each
other that it was impossible to distinguish one from the other.
He followed one for a mile or more until he
came to a mountain torrent, which he was sure that

(03:35:06):
he had never seen before. Convinced that he had taken
the wrong turn, he tried another, but with the same result.
Night was coming on rapidly, and it was almost dark
before he at last found himself in a defile which
was familiar to him. Even then, it was no easy
matter to keep to the right track, for the moon

(03:35:27):
had not yet risen, and the high cliffs on either
side made the obscurity more profound. Weighed down with his
burden and weary from his exertions, he stumbled along, keeping
up his heart by the reflection that every step brought
him nearer to Lucy, and that he carried with him
enough to insure them food for the remainder of their journey.

(03:35:50):
He had now come to the mouth of the very
defile in which he had left them. Even in the darkness,
he could recognize the outline of the cliffs which bounded it.
They must, he reflected, be awaiting him anxiously, for he
had been absent nearly five hours. In the gladness of
his heart, he put his hands to his mouth and
made the glen re echo to a loud halloo as

(03:36:13):
a signal that he was coming. He paused and listened
for an answer. None came, save his own cry, which
clattered up the dreary, silent ravines, and was borne back
to his ears in countless repetitions. Again, he shouted, even
louder than before, and again no whisper came back from

(03:36:35):
the friends whom he had left such a short time ago.
A vague, nameless dread came over him, and he hurried onwards, frantically,
dropping the precious food in his agitation. When he turned
the corner, he came full in sight of the spot
where the fire had been lit. There was still a

(03:36:56):
glowing pile of wood ashes there, but it had evidently
not been ten ended since his departure. The same dead
silence still reigned all round. With his fears all changed
to convictions, he hurried on. There was no living creature
near the remains of the fire, Animals, man, maiden, all
were gone. It was only too clear that some sudden

(03:37:19):
and terrible disaster had occurred during his absence, a disaster
which had embraced them all and yet had left no
traces behind it. Bewildered and stunned by this blow, Jefferson
Hope felt his head spin round and had to lean
upon his rifle to save himself from falling. He was

(03:37:40):
essentially a man of action, however, and speedily recovered from
his temporary impotence. Seizing a half consumed piece of wood
from the smoldering fire, he blew it into a flame
and proceeded with its help to examine the little camp.
The ground was all stamped down by the feet of horses,
showing that the large party of mounted men had overtaken

(03:38:02):
the fugitives, and the direction of their tracks proved that
they had afterwards turned back to Salt Lake City. Had
they carried back both of his companions with them. Jefferson
Hope had almost persuaded himself that they must have done so,
when his eye fell upon an object which made every
nerve of his body tingle within him. A little way

(03:38:26):
on one side of the camp was a low lying
heap of reddish soil, which had assuredly not been there before.
There was no mistaking it for anything but a newly
dug grave. As the young hunter approached it, he perceived
that a stick had been planted on it, with a
sheet of paper stuck in the cleft fork of it.

(03:38:48):
The inscription upon the paper was brief, but to the point.
John Ferrier, formerly of Salt Lake City, died August fourth,
eighteen sixty. The sturdy old man whom he had left
so short a time before, was gone then, and this
was all his epitaph. Jefferson Hope looked wildly round to

(03:39:13):
see if there was a second grave, but there was
no sign of one. Lucy had been carried back by
their terrible pursuers to fulfill her original destiny by becoming
one of the harem of the elder's son. As the
young fellow realized the certainty of her fate and his
own powerlessness to prevent it, he wished that he too

(03:39:34):
was lying with the old farmer in his last silent
resting place again. However, his active spirit shook off the
lethargy which springs from despair. If there was nothing else
left to him, he could at least devote his life
to revenge with indomitable patience and perseverance. Jefferson Hope possessed

(03:39:56):
also a power of sustained vindictiveness, which he may have
learned from the Indians amongst whom he had lived. As
he stood by the desolate fire, he felt that the
only one thing which could assuage his grief would be
thorough and complete retribution brought by his own hand upon
his enemies. His strong will and untiring energy, should he determined,

(03:40:21):
be devoted to that one end. With a grim white face,
he retraced his steps to where he had dropped the food, and,
having stirred up the smoldering fire, he cooked enough to
last him for a few days. This he made up
into a bundle, and, tired as he was, he set
himself to walk back through the mountains upon the track

(03:40:42):
of the Avenging Angels. For five days he toiled footsore
and weary through the defiles which he had already traversed
on horseback. At night, he flung himself down among the
rocks and snatched a few hours asleep, but before daybreak
he was always well on his way. On the sixth day,

(03:41:05):
he reached the Eagle Canyon from which they had commenced
their ill fated flight. Thence he could look down upon
the home of the Saints. Worn and exhausted, he leaned
upon his rifle and shook his gaunt hand fiercely at
the silent, widespread city beneath him. As he looked at it,
he observed that there were flags in some of the

(03:41:26):
principal streets, and other signs of festivity. He was still
speculating as to what this might mean when he heard
the clatter of horses hoofs and saw a mounted man
riding towards him. As he approached, he recognized him as
a Mormon named Cowper, to whom he had rendered services

(03:41:47):
at different times. He therefore accosted him when he got
up to him, with the object of finding out what
Lucy Ferrier's fate had been. I am Jefferson Hope, he said,
you remember me. The Mormon looked at him with undisguised astonishment. Indeed,
it was difficult to recognize in this tattered, unkempt wanderer

(03:42:09):
with ghastly white face and fierce wild eyes, the spruce
young hunter of former days. Having however, at last satisfied
himself as to his identity, the man's surprise changed to consternation.
You are mad to come here, he cried. It is
as much as my own life is worth to be
seen talking with you. There is a warrant against you

(03:42:32):
from the Holy Four for assisting the Ferriers away. I
don't fear them or their warrant, Hope said earnestly. You
must know something of this matter. Cowper, I conjure you,
by everything you hold dear, to answer a few questions.
We have always been friends for God's sake. Don't refuse
to answer me. What is it? The Mormon asked, uneasily,

(03:42:54):
be quick. The very rocks have ears and the trees eyes.
What it's become a lucy ferrier? She was married yesterday
to young Drebber. Hold up, man, hold up, you have
no life left in you. Don't mind me, said Hope faintly.
He was white to the very lips and had sunk

(03:43:16):
down on the stone against which she had been leaning marriage.
You say marriage yesterday. That's what those flags are for
on the endowment house. There was some words between young
Drebber and young Stangerson as to which was to have her.
They've both been in the party that followed them, and
Stangerson had shot her father, which seemed to give him

(03:43:37):
the best claim. But when they argued it out in council,
Drever's party was the stronger, so the prophet gave her
over to him. No one won't have her very long, though,
for I saw death in her face yesterday. She is
more like a ghost than a woman. Are you off, then? Yes,
I am off, said Jefferson Hope, who had risen from

(03:44:00):
his seat. His face might have been chiseled out of marble,
so hard and set was its expression, while its eyes
glowed with a baleful light. Where are you going? Never mind?
He answered, and, slinging his weapon over his shoulder, strode
off down the gorge and so away into the heart

(03:44:21):
of the mountains, to the haunts of the wild beasts.
Amongst them all, there was none so fierce and so
dangerous as himself. The prediction of the Mormon was only
too well fulfilled. Whether it was the terrible death of
her father or the effects of the hateful marriage into
which she had been forced, Poor Lucy never held up

(03:44:43):
her head again, but pined away and died within a month.
Her soottish husband, who had married her principally for the
sake of John Ferrier's property, did not affect any great
grief at his bereavement, but his otherwise mourned over her
and sat up with her the before the burial, As
is the Mormon custom, they were grouped round the bier

(03:45:05):
in the early hours of the morning, when, to their
inexpressible fear and astonishment, the door was flung open, and
a savage looking, weather beaten man in tattered garments strode
into the room. Without a glance or a word to
the cowering women, he walked up to the white, silent
figure which had once contained the pure soul of Lucy Ferrier.

(03:45:28):
Stooping over her, he pressed his lips reverently to her
cold forehead, and then, snatching up her hand, he took
the wedding ring from her finger. She shall not be
buried in that, he cried with a fierce snarl, and
before an alarm could be raised, sprang down the stairs
and was gone. So strange and so brief was the

(03:45:49):
episode that the watchers might have found it hard to
believe it themselves or persuade other people of it, had
it not been for the undeniable fact that the circlet
of gold which marked her as having been a bride,
had disappeared. For some months, Jefferson Hope lingered among the mountains,
leading a strange wild life, and nursing in his heart

(03:46:14):
the fierce desire for vengeance which possessed him. Tales were
told in the city of the weird figure which was
seen prowling about the suburbs, and which haunted the lonely
mountain gorges. Once a bullet whistled through Stangerson's window and
flattened itself upon the wall within a foot of him.
On another occasion, as Drebber passed under a cliff, a

(03:46:37):
great boulder crashed down on him, and he only escaped
a terrible death by throwing himself upon his face. The
two young Mormons were not long in discovering the reason
of these attempts upon their lives, and led repeated expeditions
into the mountains in the hope of capturing or killing
their enemy, but always without success. Then they adopted the

(03:47:02):
precaution of never going out alone or after nightfall, and
of having their houses guarded. After a time, they were
able to relax these measures, for nothing was either heard
or seen of their opponent, and they hoped that time
had cooled his vindictiveness. Far from doing so, it had,
if anything augmented it. The hunter's mind was of a hard,

(03:47:26):
unyielding nature, and the predominant idea of revenge had taken
such complete possession of it that there was no room
for any other emotion. He was, however, above all things practical.
He soon realized that even his iron constitution could not
stand the incessant strain which he was putting upon it.

(03:47:48):
Exposure and want of wholesome food were wearing him out.
If he died like a dog among the mountains, what
was to become of his revenge then? And yet such
a death was sure to overtake him if he persisted.
He felt that that was to play his enemy's game,
so he reluctantly returned to the old Nevada mines, there

(03:48:13):
to recruit his health and to amass money enough to
allow him to pursue his object without privation. His intention
had been to be absent a year at the most,
but a combination of unforeseen circumstances prevented his leaving the
minds for nearly five. At the end of that time, however,
his memory of his wrongs and his craving for revenge

(03:48:36):
were quite as keen as on that memorable night when
he had stood by John Ferrier's grave, disguised and under
an assumed name. He returned to Salt Lake City, careless
what became of his own life, as long as he
obtained what he knew to be justice. There he found
evil tidings awaiting him. There had been a schism among

(03:49:00):
the Chosen People a few months before, some of the
younger members of the church having rebelled against the authority
of the elders, and the result had been the secession
of a certain number of the malcontents, who had left
Utah and become gentiles. Among these had been Drebber and Stangerson,
and no one knew whither they had gone. Rumor reported

(03:49:23):
that Drebber had managed to convert a large part of
his property into money, and that he had departed a
wealthy man, while his companion Stangerson was comparatively poor. There
was no clue at all, however, as to their whereabouts.
Many a man, however vindictive, would have abandoned all thought

(03:49:44):
of revenge in the face of such a difficulty, But
Jefferson Hope never faltered for a moment. With the small
competence he possessed eked out by such employment as he
could pick up. He traveled from town to town through
the United States in quest of his enemies. Year passed

(03:50:05):
into year, his black hair turned grizzled, but still he
wandered on a human bloodhound, with his mind wholly set
upon the one object upon which he had devoted his life.
At last his perseverance was rewarded. It was but a
glance of a face in a window, but that one

(03:50:28):
glance told him that Cleveland in Ohio possessed the men
whom he was in pursuit of. He returned to his
miserable lodgings, with his plan of vengeance all arranged. It chanced, however,
that Drebber, looking from his window, had recognized the vagrant
in the street, and had read murder in his eyes.

(03:50:50):
He hurried before a Justice of the Peace, accompanied by Stangerson,
who had become his private secretary, and represented to him
that they were in danger of their lives from the
jealousy and hatred of an old rival. That evening, Jefferson
Hope was taken into custody, and, not being able to
find sureties, was detained for some weeks, when at last

(03:51:12):
he was liberated it was only to find that Drebber's
house was deserted, and that he and his secretary had
departed for Europe. Again, the avenger had been foiled, and
again his concentrated hatred urged him to continue the pursuit.
Funds were wanting, however, and for some time he had

(03:51:34):
to return to work, saving every dollar for his approaching journey.
At last, having collected enough to keep life in him,
he departed for Europe and tracked his enemies from city
to city, working his way in any menial capacity, but
never overtaking the fugitives. When he reached Saint Petersburg, they

(03:51:56):
had departed for Paris, and when he followed them there,
he learned that they had just set off for Copenhagen,
at the Danish capital. He was again a few days late,
for they had journeyed on to London, where he at
last succeeded in running them to earth. As to what
occurred there, we cannot do better than quote the old

(03:52:18):
Hunter's own account, as duly recorded in doctor Watson's journal,
to which we are already under such obligations. End of
Book two, Chapter five, Book two, Chapter six, A continuation
of the reminiscences of John Watson m d. Our prisoner's

(03:52:44):
furious resistance did not apparently indicate any ferocity in his
disposition towards ourselves, for on finding himself powerless, he smiled
in an affable manner and expressed his hopes that he
had not hurt any of us in the scuffle. I
guess you're going to take me to the place east Station,
he remarked to Sherlock Holmes. My CAB's at the door.

(03:53:04):
If you'll loose my legs, I'll walk down to it.
I'm not so like to lift as I used to be.
Gregson and Lestrade exchanged glances as if they thought this
proposition rather a bold one. But Holmes at once took
the prisoner at his word and loosened the towel which
we had bound round his ankles. He rose and stretched
his legs, as though to assure himself that they were

(03:53:27):
free once more. I remember that, I thought to myself
as I eyed him, that I had seldom seen a
more powerfully built man, And his dark, sunburned face bore
an expression of determination and energy which was as formidable
as his personal strength. If there's a vacant place for
a chief of the police. I reckon, you're the man

(03:53:49):
for it, he said, gazing with undisguised admiration at my
fellow lodger. The way you kept on my trail was
a caution. You had better come with me, said Holmes
to the two detectives, Ark and drive you, said, Lestrade,
Good and Gregson can come inside with me, you two doctor,

(03:54:11):
you have taken an interest in the case, and may
as well stick to us. I assented gladly, and we
all descended together. Our prisoner made no attempt to escape,
but stepped calmly into the cab which had been his,
and we followed him. Lestrade mounted the box, whipped up
the horse, and brought us in a very short time

(03:54:32):
to our destination. We were ushered into a small chamber,
where a police inspector noted down our prisoner's name and
the names of the men with whose murder he had
been charged. The official was a white faced, unemotional man
who went through his duties in a dull, mechanical way.
The prisoner will be put before the magistrates in the

(03:54:55):
course of the week, he said. In the meantime, mister Jefferson, hope,
have you anything that you wish to say? I must
warn you that your words will be taken down and
may be used against you. I've got a good deal
to say, our prisoner said slowly, I want to tell you, gentlemen,

(03:55:16):
all about it. Hadn't you better reserve that for your trial,
asked the inspector. I may never be tried. He answered,
you needn't look startled. It isn't suicide I'm thinking of.
Are you a doctor? He turned his fierce dark eyes
upon me as he asked this last question. Yes I am,

(03:55:38):
I answered. Then put your hand here, he said, with
a smile, motioning with his manacled wrist towards his chest.
I did so, and became at once conscious of an
extraordinary throbbing and commotion which was going on inside. The
walls of his chest seemed to thrill and quiver as

(03:55:59):
a frail building would do inside when some powerful engine
was at work. In the silence of the room, I
could hear a dull, humming and buzzing noise which proceeded
from the same source. Why, I cried, You have an
aortic aneurism. That's what they call it, he said, placidly.
I went to a doctor last week about it, and

(03:56:22):
he told me that it is bound to burst before
many days past. It's been getting worse for years. I
got it from overexposure and under feeding among the Salt
Lake mountains. I've done my work now and I don't
care how soon I go, but I should like to
leave some account of the business behind me. I don't
want to be remembered as a common cutthroat. The inspector

(03:56:45):
and the two detectives had a hurried discussion as to
the advisability of allowing him to tell his story. Do
you consider, doctor, that there is immediate danger, the former asked,
Most certainly there is, I answered. In that case, it
is clearly our duty in the interest of justice to

(03:57:05):
take his statement, said the inspector. You are at liberty, sir,
to give your account, which I again warn you will
be taken down. I'll sit down with your leave, the
prisoner said, suiting the action to the word. This aneurysm
of mine makes me easily tired, and the tussle we
had half an hour ago has not mended matters. I

(03:57:26):
am on the brink of the grave, and I am
not likely to lie to you. Every word I say
is the absolute truth, and how you use it is
a matter of no consequence to me. With these words,
Jefferson Hope leaned back in his chair and began the
following remarkable statement. He spoke in a calm and methodical manner,

(03:57:47):
as though the events which he narrated were commonplace enough.
I can vouch for the accuracy of the subjoined accounts,
for I have had access to Lestrade's notebook, in which
the prisoner's words were taken down exactly as they were uttered.
It don't much matter to you why I hated these men,
he said. It's enough that they were guilty of the

(03:58:09):
death of two human beings, a father and a daughter,
and that they had therefore forfeited their lives. After the
lapse of time that has passed since their crime, it
was impossible for me to secure a conviction against them
in any court. I knew of their guilt, though, and
I determined that I should be judge, jury, and executioner,

(03:58:33):
all rolled into one. You'd have done the same if
you have any manhood in you, if you have been
in my place. That girl that I spoke of was
to have married me twenty years ago. She was forced
into marrying that same drebber and broke her heart over it.
I took the marriage ring from her dead finger, and

(03:58:56):
I vowed that his dying eyes should rest upon that
very ring, and that his last thoughts should be of
the crime for which he was punished. I have carried
about with me and have followed him and his accomplice
over two continents until I caught them. They thought to
tie me out, but they could not do it. If
I die to morrow, as is likely enough, I die

(03:59:19):
knowing that my work in this world is done and
well done. They have perished, and by my hand there
is nothing left for me to hope for or to desire.
They were rich and I was poor, so there was
no easy matter for me to follow them. When I
got to London, my pocket was about empty, and I

(03:59:39):
found that I must turn my hand to something for
my living. Drive in and riding are as natural to
me as walking. So I applied at a cab owner's
office and soon got employment. I was to bring a
certain summer week to the owner, and whatever was over
that I might keep for myself. They were seldom much over,
but I managed to scrape along somehow. The hardest job

(04:00:03):
was to learn my way about, For I reckon that
of all the mazes that ever were contrived. This city
is the most confusing. I had a map beside me, though,
and when once I had spotted the principal hotels and stations,
I got on pretty well. It was some time before
I found out where my two gentlemen were living, but

(04:00:24):
I inquired and inquired, until at last I had dropped
across them. They were at a boarding house at camberwell Over,
on the other side of the river. When once I
found out, I knew that I had them at my mercy.
I had grown my beard, and there was no chance
of their recognizing me. I would dog them and follow

(04:00:44):
them until I saw my opportunity. I was determined that
they should not escape me again. They were very near
doing it. For all that go where they would about London,
I was always at their heels. Sometimes I followed them
on my cab and sometimes on foot, but the former
was the best, for then they could not get away

(04:01:05):
from me. He was only early in the morning or
late at night that I could earn anything, so that
I began to get behindhand with my employer. I did
not mind that, however, as long as I could lay
my hand upon the men I wanted. They were cunning,
though they must have thought that there was some chance
of their being followed, for they would never go out alone,

(04:01:27):
and never after nightfall. During two weeks I drove behind
them every day and never once saw them separate. Drebber
himself was drunk half the time, but Stangerson was not
to be caught napping. I watched them late and early,
but never saw the ghost of a chance. But I

(04:01:47):
was not discouraged, for something told me that the hour
had almost come. My only fear was that this thing
in my chest might burst a little too soon and
leave my work undone. At last, one evening, I was
driving up and down Torquay Terrace, as the street was
called in which they board it, when I saw a

(04:02:08):
cab drive up to their door. Presently, some luggage was
brought out, and after a time Drebber and Stangerson followed
it and drove off. I whipped up my horse and
kept within sight of them, feeling very ill at ease,
for I feared that they were going to be shifting
their quarters. At Euston station, they got out and I

(04:02:29):
left a boy to hold my horse and followed them
onto the platform. I heard the mask for the Liverpool train,
and the guard answered that that one had just gone
and there would not be another for some hours. Stangerson
seemed to be put out at that, but Drebber was
rather pleased than otherwise. I got so close to them
in the bustle that I could hear every word that

(04:02:52):
passed between them. Drebber said that he had the little
business of his own to do, and that if the
other would wait for him, he would soon rejoin him.
His companion remonstrated with him and reminded him that they
had resolved to stick together. Drebber answered that the matter
was a delicate one and that he must go alone.

(04:03:13):
I couldn't catch what Stangerson said to that, but the
other burst out swearing and reminded him that he was
nothing more than his paid servant, and he must not
presume to dictate to him. On that, the secretary gave
it up as a bad job and simply bargained with
him that if he missed the last train, he should
rejoin him at Halliday's private hotel, to which Drebber answered

(04:03:36):
that he would be back on the platform before eleven,
and made his way out of the station. The moment
for which I had waited so long, had at last come,
I had my enemies within my power. Together they could
protect each other, but singly they were at my mercy.
I did not act, however, with undue precipitation. My plans

(04:03:59):
were already formed. There is no satisfaction in vengeance unless
the offender has time to realize who it is that
strikes him and why retribution has come upon him. I
had my plans arranged by which I should have the
opportunity of making the man who had wronged me understand
that his old sin had found him out. It chanced

(04:04:21):
that some days before a gentleman who had been engaged
in looking over some houses in the Brixton Road, had
dropped the key of one of them in my carriage.
It was claimed that same evening and returned. But in
the interval I had taken a molding of it and
had a duplicate constructed. By means of this, I had

(04:04:41):
access to at least one spot in this great city
where I could rely upon being free from interruption. How
to get Drebber to that house was the difficult problem
which I now had to solve. He walked down the
road and went into one or two liquor shops, staying
for nearly half an hour, and the last of them.
When he came out, he staggered in his walk and

(04:05:04):
was evidently pretty well on. There was a hansom just
in front of me, and he hailed it. I followed
it so close that the nose of my horse was
within a yard of his driver. The whole way we
rattled across Waterloo Bridge and through miles of streets, until,
to my astonishment, we found ourselves back in the terrace

(04:05:26):
in which he had boarded. I could not imagine what
his intention was in returning there, but I went on
and pulled up my cab a hundred yards or so
from the house. He entered it, and his hansom drove away.
Give me a glass of water, if you please. My
mouth gets dry with the talking. I handed him the

(04:05:48):
glass and he drank it down. That's better, he said. Well.
I waited for a quarter of an hour or more,
when suddenly there came a noise like people struggling inside
the house. Next moment the door was flung open, and
two men appeared, one of whom was Drebber, and the

(04:06:08):
other was a young chap whom I had never seen before.
This fellow had Drebber by the collar, and when they
came to the head of the steps, he gave him
a shove and a kick, which sent him half across
the road. You hound, he cried, shaking his stick at him.
I'll teach you to insult an honest girl. He was

(04:06:29):
so hot that I think he should have thrashed Dreba
with his cudgel, only that the curse staggered away down
the road as fast as his legs could carry him.
He ran as far as the corner, and then, seeing
my cab, he hailed me and jumped in drive me
to Holiday's private hotel, said he. When I had him

(04:06:50):
fairly inside my cab, my heart jumped so with joy
that I feared lest at this last moment my aneurism
might go wrong. I drove along, weighing in my own
mind what it was best to do. I might take
him right out into the country, and there in some
deserted lane, have my last interview with him. I had

(04:07:12):
almost decided upon this when he solved the problem for me.
The craze for drink had seized him again, and he
ordered me to pull up outside a gin palace. He
went in, leaving word that I should wait for him. There.
He remained until closing time, and when he came out,
he was so far gone that I knew the game

(04:07:33):
was in my own hands. Don't imagine that I intended
to kill him in cold blood. It would only have
been rigid justice if I had done so, But I
could not bring myself to do it. I had long
determined that he should have a show of his life
if he chose to take advantage of it. Among the
many billets which I have filled in America during my

(04:07:55):
wandering life, I was once janitor and sweeper out of
the laboratory York College. One day, the professor was lecturing
on poisons, and he showed his students some alkaloid, as
he called it, which he had extracted from some South
American arrow poison, and which was so powerful that the
least grain meant instant death. I spotted the bottle in

(04:08:18):
which this preparation was kept, and when they were all gone,
I helped myself to a little of it. I was
a fairly good dispenser, so I worked this alkaloid into
small soluble pills, and each pill I put in a
box with a similar pill made without the poison. I
determined at the time that, when I had my chance,

(04:08:40):
my gentlemen should each have a drawer out of one
of these boxes while I ate the pill that remained.
It would be quite as deadly and a good deal
less noisy than firing across a handkerchief. From that day
I had always my pill boxes about with me, and
the time had now come when I was to use them.

(04:09:01):
It was nearer one than twelve, and a wild, bleak night,
blowing hard and raining in torrents, dismal as it was outside,
I was glad within, so glad that I could have
shouted out from pure exultation. If any of you, gentlemen,
have ever pined for a thing and longed for it
during twenty long years, and then suddenly found it within

(04:09:24):
your reach, you would understand my feelings. I lit a
cigar and puffed at it to steady my nerves, but
my hands were trembling and my temples throbbing with excitement.
As I drove, I could see old John Ferrier and
sweet Lucy looking at me out of the darkness and
smiling at me, just as plain as I see you

(04:09:46):
all in this room. All the way they were ahead
of me, one on each side of the horse. Until
I pulled up at the house and the Brixton Road.
There was not a soul to be seen, nor a
sound to be heard, except the dripping of the rain.
When I looked in at the window, I found Drebber
all huddled together in a drunken sleep. I shook him

(04:10:09):
by the arm. It's time to get out, I said,
all right, Cabby, said he. I suppose he thought would
come to the hotel that he had mentioned, for he
got out without another word and followed me down the garden.
I had to walk beside him to keep him steady,
for he was still a little top heavy. When we

(04:10:31):
came to the door, I opened it and led him
into the front room. I give you my word that
all the way the father and the daughter were walking
in front of us. It's infernally dark, said he, stamping about.
We'll soon have a light, I said, striking a match
and putting it to a wax candle, which I brought

(04:10:52):
with me. Now, Enoch Drebber, I continued, turning to him
and holding the light to my own. Fo Who am I?
He gazed at me with bleared, drunken eyes. For a
moment and then I saw a horror springing up in
them and convulse his whole features, which show me that

(04:11:15):
he knew me. He staggered back with a livid face,
and I saw the perspiration break out upon his brow,
while his teeth chattered in his head. At the sight,
I leaned my back against the door and laughed loud
and long. I had always known that vengeance would be sweet,

(04:11:35):
but I had never hoped for the contentment of soul,
which now possessed me. You dog, I said, I have
hunted you from Salt Lake City to Saint Petersburg, and
you have always escaped me. Now at last your wanderings
have come to an end, for either you or I
shall never see to morrow's sunrise. He shrunk still further

(04:11:58):
away as I spoke, and I could see on his
face that he thought I was mad. So I was.
For the time, the pulses in my temples beat like
sledge hammers, and I believe I would have had a
fit of some sort if the blood had not gushed
from my nose. And relieve me, what do you think
of Lucy Ferrier? Now? I cried, locking the door and

(04:12:21):
shaking the key in his face punishment has been slow
in coming, but it has overtaken you at last. I
saw his coward lips tremble as I spoke. He would
have begged for his life, but he knew well that
it was useless. Wo. Wo, would you murder me? He stammered,

(04:12:42):
There is no murder, I answered, who talks of murdering
a mad dog? What mercy had you upon my poor
darling when you dragged her from her slaughtered father and
bore her away to your accursed and shameless harem? It
was not I who killed her father, he cried, But

(04:13:03):
it was you who broke her innocent heart. I shrieked,
thrusting the door before him. Let the High God judge
between us, choose and eat. There is death in one
and life in need the other. I shall take what
you leave. Let us see if there is justice upon
the earth, or if we are ruled by chance. He

(04:13:26):
cowered away with wild cries and prayers for mercy. But
I drew my knife and held it to his throat
until he had obeyed me. Then I swallowed the other,
and we stood facing one another in silence for a
minute or more, waiting to see which was to live
and which was to die. Shall I ever forget the

(04:13:48):
look which came over his face when the first warning
pangs told him that the poison was in his system.
I laughed as I saw it, and held Lucy's marriage
ring in front of his eyes. It was but for
a moment, for the action of the alkaloid is rapid.
A spasm of pain contorted his features. He threw his

(04:14:11):
hands out in front of him, staggered, and then, with
a hoarse cry, fell heavily upon the floor. I turned
him over with my foot and placed my hand upon
his heart. There was no movement. He was dead. The
blood had been streaming from my nose, but I had
taken no notice of it. I don't know what it

(04:14:34):
was that put it into my head to write upon
the wall with it. Perhaps there was some mischievous idea
of setting the police upon a wrong track, for I
felt light hearted and cheerful. I remembered a German being
found in New York with Racha written up above him,
and it was argued at the time in the newspapers

(04:14:54):
that the secret societies must have done it. I guessed
that what puzzled the New Yorker's would puzzle the Londonness.
So I dipped my finger in my own blood and
printed it on a convenient place on the wall. Then
I walked down to my cab and found that there
was nobody about, and that the night was still very wild.

(04:15:16):
I had driven some distance when I put my hand
into the pocket in which I usually kept Lucy's ring,
and found that it was not there. I was thunderstruck
at this, for it was the only memento that I
had of her, Thinking that I might have dropped it
when I stooped over Drev's body, I drove back, and,
leaving my cab in a side street, I went boldly

(04:15:37):
up to the house, for I was ready to dare
anything rather than lose the ring. When I arrived there,
I walked right into the arms of a police officer
who was coming out, and only managed to disarm his
suspicions by pretending to be hopelessly drunk. That was how
Enoch Drebber came to his end. All I had to

(04:16:00):
do then was to do as much for Stangerson and
so pay off John Ferry's debt. I knew that he
was staying at Halliday's private hotel, and I hung about
all day, but he never came out. I fancied that
he suspected something when dreb failed to put in an appearance.
He was cunning with Stangerson, and always on his guard.

(04:16:24):
If he thought he could keep me off by stay
in doors, he was very much mistaken. I soon found
out which was the window his bedroom, and early next
morning I took advantage of some ladders which were lying
in the lane behind the hotel, and so made my
way into his room in the gray of the dawn.

(04:16:44):
I woke him up and told him that the hour
had come when he was to answer for the life
he had taken so long before. I described Dreba's death
to him, and I gave him the same choice of
the poisoned pills instead of grass. Been at the chance
of safety which that offered him. He sprang from his

(04:17:04):
bed and flew at my throat. In self defense, I
stabbed into the heart. It would have been the same
in any case, for Providence would never have allowed his
guilty hand to pick out anything but the poison. I
have little more to say, and it's as well, for
I'm about done up. I went on cabinet for a

(04:17:26):
day or so, intending to keep at it until I
could save enough to take me back to America. I
was standing in the yard when a ragged youngster asked
if there was a cabby there, called Jefferson Hope, and
said that his cab was wanted by a gentleman at
two twenty one b. Baker Street. I went round, suspecting
no harm, and the next thing I knew, this young

(04:17:48):
man here had the bracelets on my wrists, and as
neatly as snackled as ever I saw in my life.
That's the whole of my story. Gentlemen, you may consider
me be a murderer, but I hold that I am
just as much an officer of justice as you are.
So thrilling had the man's narrative been, and his manner

(04:18:11):
was so impressive, that we had sat silent and absorbed.
Even the professional detectives, blase as they were in every
detail of crime, appeared to be keenly interested in the
man's story. When he finished, we sat for some minutes
in a stillness which was only broken by the scratching

(04:18:32):
of Lestrade's pencil as he gave the finishing touches to
his shorthand account. There is only one point on which
I should like a little more information, Sherlock Holmes said,
at last, who was your accomplice who came for the
ring which I advertised? The prisoner winked at my friend jocosely.

(04:18:55):
I can tell my own secrets, he said, but I
don't get other peace pull into trouble. I saw your
advertisement and I thought it might be a plant, or
it might be the ring which I wanted. My friend
volunteered to go and see. I think you'll own He
did it smartly. Not a doubt of that, said Holmes heartily. Now, gentlemen,

(04:19:18):
the inspector remarked gravely, the forms of the law must
be complied with. On Thursday, the prisoner will be brought
before the magistrates, and your attendants will be required. Until
then I'll be responsible for him. He rang the bell
as he spoke, and Jefferson Hope was led off by
a couple of warders, while my friend and I made

(04:19:41):
our way out of the station and took a cab
back to Baker Street. End a Part two, Chapter six,
Part two, Chapter seven. The conclusion we had all been
worn to appear before the magistrates upon the third, but

(04:20:01):
when the Thursday came there was no occasion for our testimony.
A higher judge had taken the matter in hand, and
Jefferson Hope had been summoned before a tribunal where strict
justice would be meeted out to him. On the very
night after his capture, the aneurism burst, and he was
found in the morning, stretched upon the floor of the
cell with a placid smile upon his face, as though

(04:20:25):
he had been able in his dying moments to look
back upon a useful life and on work well done.
Gregson and Lestrade will be wild about his death, Holmes remarked,
as we chatted it over next evening, where will their
grand advertisement be now? I don't see that they had

(04:20:46):
very much to do with this capture, I answered, what
you do in this world is a matter of no consequence,
returned my companion bitterly. The question is what can you
make people believe that you have done? Never Mind, he
continued more brightly, after a pause. I would not have
missed the investigation for anything. There has been no better

(04:21:09):
case within my recollection. Simple as it was, there were
several most instructive points about it. Simple, I ejaculated. Well, really,
it can hardly be described as otherwise, said Sherlock Holmbs
smiling at my surprise. The proof of its intrinsic simplicity

(04:21:30):
is that, without any help, save a few very ordinary deductions,
I was able to lay my hand upon the criminal
within three days. That is true, said I. I have
already explained to you that what is out of the
common is usually a guide rather than a hindrance in

(04:21:51):
solving a problem of this sort. The grand thing is
to be able to reason backwards. That is a very
useful accomplishment, and a very easy one, but people do
not practice it much in the every day affairs of life.
It is more useful to reason forwards, and so the
other comes to be neglected. There are fifty who can

(04:22:12):
reason synthetically, for one who can reason analytically. I confess,
said I, that I do not quite follow you. I
hardly expected that you would Let me see if I
can make it clearer. Most people, if you describe a
train of events to them, will tell you what the

(04:22:33):
result would be. They can put those events together in
their minds and argue from them that something will come
to pass. There are few people, however, who, if you
told them a result, would be able to evolve from
their own inner consciousness. What the steps were which led
up to that result. This power is what I mean

(04:22:54):
when I talk of reasoning backwards or analytically. I understand
and said, I, now, this was a case in which
you were given the result and had to find everything
else for yourself. Now let me endeavor to show you
the different steps in my reasoning. To begin at the beginning.

(04:23:16):
I approached the house, as you know, on foot and
with my mind entirely free from all impressions. I naturally
began by examining the roadway, and there, as I have
already explained to you, I saw clearly the marks of
a cab, which I ascertained by inquiry must have been
there during the night. I satisfied myself that it was

(04:23:39):
a cab and not a private carriage. By the narrow
gage of the wheels. The ordinary London growler is considerably
less wide than a gentleman's brofen. This was the first
point gained. I then walked slowly down the garden path,
which happened to be composed of a clay soil peculiarly
suitable for taking impresson. No doubt, it appeared to you

(04:24:02):
to be a mere trampled line of slush. But to
my trained eyes, every mark upon its surface had a meaning.
There is no branch of detective science which is so
important and so much neglected as the art of tracing footsteps.
Happily I have always laid great stress upon it, and
much practice has made its second nature to me. I

(04:24:26):
saw the heavy footmarks of the constables, but I saw
also the track of the two men who had first
passed through the garden. It was easy to tell that
they had been before the others, because in places their
marks had been entirely obliterated by the others coming upon
the top of them. In this way, my second link

(04:24:47):
was formed, which told me that the nocturnal visitors were
two in number, one remarkable for his height, as I
calculated from the length of his stride, and the other
fashionably dressed, to judge from the small and elegant impression
left by his boots on entering the house. This last

(04:25:08):
inference was confirmed my well booted man lay before me.
The tall one then had done the murder. If murder
there was, there was no wound upon the dead man's person,
but the agitated expression upon his face assured me that
he had foreseen his fate before it came upon him.

(04:25:30):
Men who die from heart disease or any sudden natural cause, never,
by any chance, exhibit agitation upon their features. Having sniffed
the dead man's lips, I detected a slightly sour smell,
and I came to the conclusion that he had had
poison forced upon him. Again, I argued that it had

(04:25:52):
been forced upon him from the hatred and fear expressed
upon his face. By the method of exclusion. I had
arrived at this result, for no other hypothesis would meet
the facts. Do not imagine that it was a very
unheard of idea. The forcible administration of poison is by
no means a new thing in criminal annals. The cases

(04:26:13):
of Dolsky in Odessa and of Leturier in Montpellier will
occur at once to any toxicologist. And now came the
great question as to the reason why robbery had not
been the object of the murder, for nothing was taken.
Was it politics, then, or was it a woman? That

(04:26:36):
was the question which confronted me. I was inclined from
the first to the latter supposition. Political assassins are only
too glad to do their work and to fly. This
murder had on the contrary, been done most deliberately, and
the perpetrator had left his tracks all over the room

(04:26:57):
showing that he had been there all the time. It
must have been a private wrong, and not a political one,
which called for such a methodical revenge. When the inscription
was discovered upon the wall, I was more inclined than
ever to my opinion the thing was too evidently a blind.
When the ring was found, however, it settled the question clearly.

(04:27:21):
The murderer had used it to remind his victim of
some dead or absent woman. It was at this point
that I asked Gregson whether he had inquired in his
telegram to Cleveland as to any particular point in mister
Drebber's former career. He answered, you remember in the negative.
I then proceeded to make a careful examination of the room,

(04:27:44):
which confirmed me in my opinion as to the murderer's height,
and furnished me with the additional details as to the
trichinopoly cigar and the length of his nails. I had
already come to the conclusion, since there were no signs
of a struggle, that the blood which covered the floor
had burst from the murderer's nose in his excitement, I

(04:28:05):
could perceive that the track of blood coincided with the
track of his feet. It is seldom that any man,
unless he is very full blooded, breaks out in this
way through emotion. So I hazarded the opinion that the
criminal was probably a robust and ruddy faced man. Events
proved that I had judged correctly. Having left the house,

(04:28:28):
I proceeded to do what Gregson had neglected. I telegraphed
to the head of the people at Cleveland, limiting my
inquiry to this circumstances connected with the marriage of Enoch Drebber.
The answer was conclusive. It told me that Drebber had
already applied for the protection of the law against an
old rival in love named Jefferson Hope, and that this

(04:28:51):
same Hope was at present in Europe. I knew now
that I held the clue to the mystery in my hand,
and all that remained was to secure the murderer. I
had already determined in my own mind that the man
who had walked into the house with Drebber was none
other than the man who had driven the cab. The
marks in the road showed me that the horse had

(04:29:13):
wandered on in a way, which had been impossible had
there been anyone in charge of it. Where then could
the driver be unless he were inside the house. Again,
it is absurd to suppose that any sane man would
carry out a deliberate crime under the very eyes, as
it were, of a third person who was sure to

(04:29:35):
betray him. Lastly, supposing one man wished to dog another
through London, what better means could he adopt than to
turn cab driver. All these considerations led me to the
irresistible conclusion that Jefferson Hope was to be found among
the Javis of the metropolis. If he had been one,

(04:29:59):
there was no reason to believe that he had ceased
to be. On the contrary, from his point of view,
any sudden change would be likely to draw attention to himself.
He would, probably, for a time at least, continue to
perform his duties. There was no reason to suppose that
he was going under an assumed name. Why should he

(04:30:20):
change his name in a country where no one knew
his original one. I therefore organized my street Arab detective
Corps and sent them systematically to every cab proprietor in
London until they ferreted out the man that I wanted.
How well they succeeded, and how quickly I took advantage
of it, are still fresh in your recollection. The murder

(04:30:42):
of Stangerson was an incident which was entirely unexpected, but
which could hardly, in any case, have been prevented. Through it,
as you know, I came into possession of the pills,
the existence of which I had already surmised. You see,
the whole thing is a chain of logical sequetes, without
a break or flaw. It is wonderful. I cried. Your

(04:31:06):
merits should be public recognized. You should publish an account
of the case. If you won't, I will for you.
You may do what you like. Doctor, he answered, see here,
he continued, handing a paper over to me. Look at this.
It was the echo for the day, and the paragraph

(04:31:26):
to which he pointed was devoted to the case in question.
The public, it said, have lost a sensational treat through
the sudden death of the man Hope, who was suspected
of the murder of mister Enoch Drebber and of mister
Joseph Stangerson. The details of the case will probably be
never known now, though we are informed upon good authority

(04:31:47):
that the crime was the result of an old standing
and romantic feud in which love and Mormonism bore a part.
It seems that both the victims belonged, in their younger
days to the latter day Saints, and hope the deceased
prisoner hails also from Salt Lake City. If the case
has had no other effect, it at least brings out,

(04:32:09):
in the most striking manner the efficiency of our detective
police force, and will serve as a lesson to all
foreigners that they will do wisely to settle their feuds
at home, and not to carry them on to British soil.
It is an open secret that the credit of this
smart capture belongs entirely to the well known Scotland Yard officials,
Messrs Lestrade and Gregson. The man was apprehended it appears

(04:32:34):
in the rooms of a certain mister Sherlock Holmes, who
has himself, as an amateur, shown some talent in the
detective line, and who, with such instructors, may hope in
time to attain to some degree of their skill. It
is expected that a testimonial of some sort will be
presented to the two officers as a fitting recognition of

(04:32:55):
their services. Didn't I tell you so when we started,
cried Sherlock Holmes with a laugh. That's the result of
all our study in scarlet to get them a testimonial.
Never mind, I answered, I have all the facts in
my journal, and the public shall know them. In the meantime,

(04:33:17):
you must make yourself contented by the consciousness of success,
like the Roman miser Populace may sibylat et mihi plaudo
ipse domi simul ac numos contemplore in arca, end of
Book two, Chapter seven, The end of a Study in

(04:33:41):
Scarlet by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

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A Study in Scarlet - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}A Study in Scarlet - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle