Part II

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
Part two of the Adventures of a Copper Beeches by
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This LibriVox recording is in the
public domain. Part two. That is the letter which I
have just received, mister Holmes, and my mind is made
up that I will accept it. I thought, however, that

(00:20):
before taking the final step, I should like to submit
the whole matter to your consideration. Well, miss Hunter, if
your mind is made up, that settles the question, said Holmes, smiling.
But you would not advise me to refuse. I confess
that it is not the situation which I should like
to see a sister of mine apply. For What is

(00:43):
the meaning of it all, mister Holmes, Ah, I have
no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself formed
some opinion. Well, there seems to me to be only
one possible solution. Mister Ruke Castle seemed to be a
very kind, good natured man. Is it not possible that

(01:04):
his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep
the matter quiet for fear she should be taken to
an asylum, and that he humors her fancies in every
way in order to prevent an outbreak. That is a
possible solution. In fact, as matters stand, it is the
most probable one. But in any case it does not
seem to be a nice household for a young lady.

(01:28):
But the money, mister Holmes, the money, well, yes, of
course the pay is good, too good. That is what
makes me uneasy. Why should they give you one hundred
and twenty pounds a year when they could have their
pick for forty pounds. There must be some strong reason behind.

(01:49):
I thought that if I told you the circumstances, you
would understand afterwards if I wanted your help, I should
feel so much stronger if I felt that you were
at the back of me. Oh, you may carry that
feeling away with you. I assure you that your little
problem promises to be the most interesting which has come
my way for some months. There is something distinctly novel

(02:12):
about some of the features. If you should find yourself
in doubt or in danger, danger, what danger do you foresee?
Holmes shook his head gravely. It would cease to be
a danger if we could define it, said he. But
at any time, day or night, a telegram would bring
me down to your help. That is enough. She rose

(02:35):
briskly from her chair, with the anxiety all swept from
her face. I shall go down to Hampshire quite easily
in my mind. Now I shall write to mister Rucastle
at once, sacrifice my poor hair to night, and start
for Winchester to morrow. With a few grateful words to Holmes.
She bade us both good night, and bustled off upon

(02:56):
her way. At least, said I, as we heard her
quick firm steps descending the stairs. She seemed to be
a young lady who was very well, able to take
care of herself, and she would need to be said
Holmes gravely, I am much mistaken if we do not
hear from her before many days or past. It was

(03:19):
not very long before my friend's prediction was fulfilled. A
fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts
turning in her direction, and wondering what strange side alley
of human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The
unusual salary. The curious conditions, the like duties all pointed

(03:43):
to something abnormal, though whether a fad or a plot,
or whether the man were a philanthropist or a villain,
it was quite beyond my powers to determine. As to Holmes,
I observed that he sat frequently for half an hour
on end, with knitted brow and an abstracted air, but
he swept the matter away with a wave of his hand.

(04:05):
When I mentioned it, data, data, data, he cried impatiently.
I can't make bricks without clay. And yet he would
always wind up by muttering that no sister of his
should ever have accepted such a situation. The telegram, which
we eventually received, came late one night, just as I

(04:28):
was thinking of turning in and Holmes was settling down
to one of those all night chemical researches which he
frequently indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over
a retort and a test tube at night and find
him in the same position when I came down to
breakfast in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope and then,
glancing at the message, threw it across to me. Just

(04:51):
look up the trains in Bradshaw, said he, and turned
back to his chemical studies. The summons was a brief
and urge one please be at the Black Swan Hotel
at Winchester at midday tomorrow. It said, do come. I
am at my wits end hunter. Will you come with me?

(05:13):
Asked Holmes, glancing up, I should wish to just look
it up. Then there is a train at half past nine,
said I, glancing over my bradshaw. It is due at
Winchester at eleven thirty. That will do very nicely. Then
perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the acetones,

(05:33):
as we may need to be at our best in
the morning. By eleven o'clock the next day we were
well upon our way to the old English capital. Holmes
had been buried in the morning papers all the way down,
but after we had passed the Hampshire border, he threw
them down and began to admire the scenery. It was

(05:54):
an ideal spring day, a light blue sky flecked with
little fleecy white cloth drifting across from west to east.
The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was
an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge
to a man's energy. All over the countryside, away to
the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and gray

(06:18):
roofs of the farm steadings peeped out from amid the
light green of the new foliage. Are they not fresh
and beautiful? I cried, with all the enthusiasm of a
man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street. But Holmes
shook his head gravely. Do you know, Watson? Said he

(06:40):
that it is one of the curses of a mind
with a turn like mine, that I must look at
everything with reference to my own special subject. You look
at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty.
I look at them, and the only thought which comes
to me is the feeling of their isolation and the

(07:00):
impunity with which crime may be committed there, Good Heavens,
I cried, who would associate crime with these dear old homesteads.
They always fill me with a certain horror. It is
my belief, Watson founded upon my experience, that the lowest
and vilest alleys in London do not present a more

(07:24):
dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside.
You horrify me, but the reason is very obvious. The
pressure of public opinion can do in the town what
the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so vile
that the scream of a tortured child, or the thought

(07:45):
of a drunkard's blow does not beget sympathy and indignation
among the neighbors. And then the whole machinery of justice
is ever so close that a word of complaint can
set it going, And there is but a step between
the crime and the dock. But look at these lonely houses,
each in its own fields, filled for the most part

(08:07):
with poor, ignorant folk who know little of the law.
Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness
which may go on year in year out in such places,
And none the wiser. Had this lady, who appeals to
us for help gone to live in Winchester, I should

(08:27):
never have had a fear for her. It is the
five miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it
is clear that she is not personally threatened. No, if
she can come to Winchester to meet us, she can
get away. Quite so, she has her freedom. What can
be the matter, then, can you suggest no explanation? I

(08:49):
have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover
the facts as far as we know them. But which
of these is correct can only be determined by the
fresh information which we shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well,
there is the tower of the Cathedral, and we shall
soon learn all that Miss Hunter has to tell. The

(09:10):
black Swan is an inn of repute in the high Street,
at no distance from the station, and there we found
the young lady waiting for us. She had engaged a
sitting room, and our lunch awaited us upon the table.
I am so delighted that you have come, she said earnestly.
It is so very kind of you both. But indeed
I do not know what I should do. Your advice

(09:33):
will be altogether invaluable to me. Pray, tell us what
has happened to you. I will do so, and I
must be quick, for I have promised mister Rucastle to
be back before three. I got his leave to come
into town this morning, though he little knew for what purpose.
Let us have everything in its due order. Holmes thrust

(09:56):
his long, thin legs out toward the fire and composed
himself to listen. In the first place, I may say
that I have met on the whole with no actual
ill treatment from mister and missus Roughcastle. It is only
fair to them to say that. But I cannot understand them,
and I am not easy in my mind about them.

(10:18):
What can you not understand their reasons for their conduct?
But you shall have it all just as it occurred
when I came down, mister Rowcastle met me here and
drove me in his dog cart to the copper beaches.
It is, as he said, beautifully situated, but it is
not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square

(10:40):
block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked
with damp and bad weather. There are grounds around it,
woods on three sides, and are the fourth a field
which slopes down to the Southampton high Road, which curves
past about eight hundred yards from the front door. This
ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods

(11:02):
all round are part of Lord Southerton's preserves. A clump
of copper beaches immediately in front of the hall door
has given its name to the place. I was driven
over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever,
and was introduced by him that evening to his wife
and the child. There is no truth, mister Holmes, in

(11:24):
the conjecture which seemed to us to be probable in
your rooms at Baker Street. Missus Rouecastle is not mad.
I found her to be a silent, pale faced woman,
much younger than her husband, not more than thirty, I
should think, while he can hardly be less than forty five.
From their conversation, I have gathered that they have been

(11:46):
married about seven years, that he was a widower, and
that his only child by the first wife was the
daughter who had gone to Philadelphia. Mister Roucastle told me
in private that the reason why she had left them
was she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As
the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I
can quite imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable

(12:09):
with her father's young wife. Missus Rucastle seemed to me
to be colorless in mind as well as in feature.
She impressed me neither favorably nor the reverse. She was
a non entity. It was easy to see that she
was passionately devoted both to her husband and to her

(12:29):
little son. Her light gray eyes wandered continually from one
to the other, noting every little want and forestalling it
if possible. He was kind to her also in his
bluff boisterous fashion, and on the whole they seemed to
be a happy couple, And yet she had some secret sorrow.

(12:50):
This woman. She would often be lost in deep thought
with the saddest look upon her face. More than once
I have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes
that it was the disposition of her child which weighed
upon her mind. For I have never met so utterly
spoiled and so ill natured a little creature. He is

(13:12):
small for his age, with a head which is quite
disproportionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in
an alternation between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals
of sulking. Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself
seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he
shows quite remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice,

(13:34):
little birds, and insects. But I would rather not talk
about the creature, mister Holmes, and indeed he has little
to do with my story. I am glad of all
the details, remarked my friend, whether they seem to you
to be relevant or not, I shall try not to
miss anything of importance. The one unpleasant thing about the

(13:55):
house which struck me at once was the appearance and
conduct of the servants. There are only two, a man
and his wife. Taller, for that is his name. Is
a rough, uncouth man with grizzled hair and whiskers, and
a perpetual smell of drink. Twice since I have been
with him, he has been quite drunk, and yet mister

(14:17):
Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it. His wife
is a very tall and strong woman with a sour face,
as silent as Missus Rucastle, and much less amiable. They
are a most unpleasant couple. But fortunately I spend most
of my time in the nursery and my own room,
which are next to each other in one corner of

(14:38):
the building. For two days after my arrival at the
Copper Beaches, my life was very quiet. On the third,
Missus Rucastle came down just after breakfast and whispered something
to her husband. Oh yes, said he, turning to me.
We are very much obliged to you, miss Hunter, for

(14:58):
falling in with our whims so far as to cut
your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted
in the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall now
see how the electric blue dress will become you. You
will find it laid out upon the bed in your room,
and if you would be so good as to put
it on, we should both be extremely obliged. The dress

(15:21):
which I found waiting for me was of very peculiar
shade of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort
of beige, but it bore unmistakable signs of having been
worn before. It could not have been a better fit
if I had been measured for it. Both mister and
Missus Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it,

(15:42):
which seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting
for me in the drawing room, which is a very
large room stretching along the entire front of the house,
with three long windows reaching down to the floor. A
chair had been placed close to the central window, with
its turned towards it. In this I was asked to sit,

(16:04):
and then mister Rucastle, walking up and down on the
other side of the room, began to tell me a
series of the funniest stories that I have ever listened to.
You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed
until I was quite weary. Missus Rucastle, however, who had
evidently no sense of humor, never so much as smiled,

(16:26):
but sat with her hands in her lap and a sad,
anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so,
mister Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence
the duties of the day, and that I might change
my dress and go to little Edward in the nursery.
Two days later, this same performance was gone through under
exactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress. Again, I

(16:50):
sat in the window, and again I laughed very heartily
at the funny stories of which my employer had an
immense repertoire, and which he told inimitably. Then he handed
me a yellow backed novel, and moving my chair a
little sideways that my own shadow might not fall upon
the page, he begged me to read aloud to him.

(17:10):
I read for about ten minutes, beginning in the heart
of a chapter, and then suddenly, in the middle of
a sentence, he ordered me to cease and to change
my dress. You can easily imagine, mister Holmes, how curious
I became as to what the meaning of this extraordinary
performance could possibly be. They were always very careful. I

(17:33):
observed to turn my face away from the window, so
that I became consumed with a desire to see what
was going on behind my back. At first it seemed
to be impossible, but soon I devised a means. My
hand mirror had been broken, so a happy thought seized me,
and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief.

(17:56):
On the next occasion, in the midst of my laughter,
I I put my handkerchief up to my eyes and
was able, with a little management, to see all that
there was behind me. I confess that I was disappointed
there was nothing, at least that was my first impression.
At the second glance, however, I perceived that there was

(18:18):
a man standing in the Southampton Road, a small bearded
man in a gray suit, who seemed to be looking
in my direction. The road is an important highway, and
there are usually people there. This man, however, was leaning
against the railing which boarded our field, and was looking
earnestly up. I lowered my handkerchief and glanced at missus Rouecastle,

(18:41):
to find her eyes fixed upon me with a most
searching gaze. She said nothing, but I'm convinced that she
had divined that I had a mirror in my hand
and had seen what was behind me. She rose at once.
Jeff Row said she there is an imptnate fellow upon
the road there who stares up at Miss Hunter. No

(19:05):
friend of yours, Miss Hunter, he asked, No, I know
no one in these parts. Dear me, how very impertinent,
kindly turn round and motion to him to go away.
Surely you would be better to take no notice. No, no,
we should have him loitering here. Always kindly turn round

(19:27):
and wave him away like that. I did as I
was told, and at the same instant Missus Rucastle drew
down the blind. That was a week ago, and from
that time I have not sat again in the window,
nor have I worn the blue dress, nor seen the
man in the road. Pray continue, said Holmes. Your narrative

(19:50):
promises to be a most interesting one. You will find
it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may prove to
be little relation between the different of which I speak.
On the very first day that I was at the
Copper Beaches, mister Rucastle took me to a small outhouse
which stands near the kitchen door. As we approached it,

(20:12):
I heard the sharp rattling of a chain and the
sound as of a large animal moving about. Look in here,
said mister Rucastle, showing me a slit between two planks.
Is he not a beauty? I looked through and was
conscious of two glowing eyes and of a vague figure
huddled up in the darkness. Don't be frightened, said my employer,

(20:37):
laughing at the start which I had given. It's only Carlo,
my mastiff, I call him mind, but really old Toller,
my groom, is the only man who can do anything
with him. We feed him once a day, and not
too much then, so that he is always as keen
as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God

(20:58):
help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For
goodness sake, don't you ever, on any pretext set your
foot over the threshold at night, for it is as
much as your life is worth. The morning was no
idle one For two nights later, I happened to look
out of my bedroom window about two o'clock in the morning.

(21:19):
It was a beautiful moonlit night, and the lawn in
front of the house was silvered over and almost as
bright as day. I was standing wrapped in the peaceful
beauty of the scene when I was aware that something
was moving under the shadow of the copper beaches. As
it emerged into the moonshine, I saw what it was.

(21:39):
It was a giant dog as large as a calf,
tawny tinted with hanging jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting bones.
It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished into the
shadow upon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a
chill to my heart, which I do not think that

(22:00):
any burglar could have done. And now I have a
very strange experience to tell you. I had, as you know,
cut off my hair in London, and I had placed
it in a great coil at the bottom of my trunk.
One evening, after the child was in bed, I began
to amuse myself by examining the furniture of my room
and by rearranging my own little things. There was an

(22:24):
old chest of drawers in the room, the two upper
ones empty and open, the lower one locked. I had
filled the first two with my linen, and as I
had still much to pack away, I was naturally annoyed
at not having the use of the third drawer. It
struck me that it might have been fastened by a
mere oversight. So I took out my bunch of keys

(22:45):
and tried to open it. The very first key fitted
to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was
only one thing in it, but I am sure that
you would never guess what it was. It was my
coil of hair. End of Part two,