Sherlock Holmes complete collection by sir arthur conan doyle

The Return of Sherlock Holmes THE PRIORY SCHOOL

WE HAVE had some dramatic entrances and exits upon our small stage atBaker Street, but I cannot recollect anything more sudden and startlingthan the first appearance of Thorneycroft Huxtable, M.A., Ph.D., etc. Hiscard, which seemed too [539] small to carry the weight of his academicdistinctions, preceded him by a few seconds, and then he enteredhimself-so large, so pompous, and so dignified that he was the veryembodiment of self-possession and solidity. And yet his first action, whenthe door had closed behind him, was to stagger against the table, whencehe slipped down upon the floor, and there was that majestic figureprostrate and insensible upon our bearskin hearthrug.We had sprung to our feet, and for a few moments we stared in silentamazement at this ponderous piece of wreckage, which told of somesudden and fatal storm far out on the ocean of life. Then Holmes hurriedwith a cushion for his head, and I with brandy for his lips. The heavy,white face was seamed with lines of trouble, the hanging pouches underthe closed eyes were leaden in colour, the loose mouth droopeddolorously at the corners, the rolling chins were unshaven. Collar andshirt bore the grime of a long journey, and the hair bristled unkempt fromthe well-shaped head. It was a sorely stricken man who lay before us."What is it, Watson?" asked Holmes."Absolute exhaustion-possibly mere hunger and fatigue," said I, withmy finger on the thready pulse, where the stream of life trickled thin andsmall."Return ticket from Mackleton, in the north of England," said Holmes,drawing it from the watch-pocket. "It is not twelve o'clock yet. He hascertainly been an early starter."The puckered eyelids had begun to quiver, and now a pair of vacantgray eyes looked up at us. An instant later the man had scrambled on tohis feet, his face crimson with shame."Forgive this weakness, Mr. Holmes, I have been a little overwrought.Thank you, if I might have a glass of milk and a biscuit, I have no doubtthat I should be better. I came personally, Mr. Holmes, in order to insurethat you would return with me. I feared that no telegram would convinceyou of the absolute urgency of the case.""When you are quite restored- -""I am quite well again. I cannot imagine how I came to be so weak. Iwish you, Mr. Holmes, to come to Mackleton with me by the next train."My friend shook his head."My colleague, Dr. Watson, could tell you that we are very busy atpresent. I am retained in this case of the Ferrers Documents, and the Abergavenny murder is coming up for trial. Only a very important issuecould call me from London at present.""Important!" Our visitor threw up his hands. "Have you heard nothingof the abduction of the only son of the Duke of Holdernesse?""What! the late Cabinet Minister?""Exactly. We had tried to keep it out of the papers, but there was somerumor in the Globe last night. I thought it might have reached your ears."Holmes shot out his long, thin arm and picked out Volume "H" in hisencyclopaedia of reference." 'Holdernesse, 6th Duke, K.G., P.C.'-half the alphabet! 'BaronBeverley, Earl of Carston'-dear me, what a list! 'Lord Lieutenant ofHallamshire since 1900. Married Edith, daughter of Sir CharlesAppledore, 1888. Heir and only child, Lord Saltire. Owns about twohundred and fifty thousand acres. Minerals in Lancashire and Wales.Address: Carlton House Terrace; Holdernesse Hall, Hallamshire; CarstonCastle, Bangor, Wales. Lord of the Admiralty, 1872; Chief Secretary ofState [540] for- -' Well, well, this man is certainly one of the greatestsubjects of the Crown!""The greatest and perhaps the wealthiest. I am aware, Mr. Holmes, thatyou take a very high line in professional matters, and that you areprepared to work for the work's sake. I may tell you, however, that hisGrace has already intimated that a check for five thousand pounds will behanded over to the person who can tell him where his son is, and anotherthousand to him who can name the man or men who have taken him.""It is a princely offer," said Holmes. "Watson, I think that we shallaccompany Dr. Huxtable back to the north of England. And now, Dr.Huxtable, when you have consumed that milk, you will kindly tell mewhat has happened, when it happened, how it happened, and, finally,what Dr. Thorneycroft Huxtable, of the Priory School, near Mackleton,has to do with the matter, and why he comes three days after an event-thestate of your chin gives the date-to ask for my humble services."Our visitor had consumed his milk and biscuits. The light had comeback to his eyes and the colour to his cheeks, as he set himself with greatvigour and lucidity to explain the situation."I must inform you, gentlemen, that the Priory is a preparatory school,of which I am the founder and principal. Huxtable's Sidelights on Horacemay possibly recall my name to your memories. The Priory is, withoutexception, the best and most select preparatory school in England. LordLeverstoke, the Earl of Blackwater, Sir Cathcart Soames-they all haveintrusted their sons to me. But I felt that my school had reached its zenithwhen, three weeks ago, the Duke of Holdernesse sent Mr. James Wilder,his secretary, with the intimation that young Lord Saltire, ten years old,his only son and heir, was about to be committed to my charge. Little didI think that this would be the prelude to the most crushing misfortune ofmy life."On May 1st the boy arrived, that being the beginning of the summerterm. He was a charming youth, and he soon fell into our ways. I may tellyou-I trust that I am not indiscreet, but half-confidences are absurd insuch a case -that he was not entirely happy at home. It is an open secret that the Duke's married life had not been a peaceful one, and the matterhad ended in a separation by mutual consent, the Duchess taking up herresidence in the south of France. This had occurred very shortly before,and the boy's sympathies are known to have been strongly with hismother. He moped after her departure from Holdernesse Hall, and it wasfor this reason that the Duke desired to send him to my establishment. In afortnight the boy was quite at home with us and was apparently absolutelyhappy."He was last seen on the night of May 13th-that is, the night of lastMonday. His room was on the second floor and was approached throughanother larger room, in which two boys were sleeping. These boys sawand heard nothing, so that it is certain that young Saltire did not pass outthat way. His window was open, and there is a stout ivy plant leading tothe ground. We could trace no footmarks below, but it is sure that this isthe only possible exit."His absence was discovered at seven o'clock on Tuesday morning. Hisbed had been slept in. He had dressed himself fully, before going off, inhis usual school suit of black Eton jacket and dark gray trousers. Therewere no signs that anyone had entered the room, and it is quite certain thatanything in the nature of cries or a struggle would have been heard, sinceCaunter, the elder boy in the inner room, is a very light sleeper."When Lord Saltire's disappearance was discovered, I at once called aroll of the [541] whole establishment-boys, masters, and servants. It wasthen that we ascertained that Lord Saltire had not been alone in his flight.Heidegger, the German master, was missing. His room was on the secondfloor, at the farther end of the building, facing the same way as LordSaltire's. His bed had also been slept in, but he had apparently gone awaypartly dressed, since his shirt and socks were lying on the floor. He hadundoubtedly let himself down by the ivy, for we could see the marks ofhis feet where he had landed on the lawn. His bicycle was kept in a smallshed beside this lawn, and it also was gone."He had been with me for two years, and came with the best references,but he was a silent, morose man, not very popular either with masters orboys. No trace could be found of the fugitives, and now, on Thursdaymorning, we are as ignorant as we were on Tuesday. Inquiry was, ofcourse, made at once at Holdernesse Hall. It is only a few miles away, andwe imagined that, in some sudden attack of homesickness, he had goneback to his father, but nothing had been heard of him. The Duke is greatlyagitated, and, as to me, you have seen yourselves the state of nervousprostration to which the suspense and the responsibility have reduced me.Mr. Holmes, if ever you put forward your full powers, I implore you to doso now, for never in your life could you have a case which is more worthyof them."Sherlock Holmes had listened with the utmost intentness to thestatement of the unhappy schoolmaster. His drawn brows and the deepfurrow between them showed that he needed no exhortation toconcentrate all his attention upon a problem which, apart from thetremendous interests involved, must appeal so directly to his love of thecomplex and the unusual. He now drew out his notebook and jotted down one or two memoranda."You have been very remiss in not coming to me sooner," said he,severely. "You start me on my investigation with a very serious handicap.It is inconceivable, for example, that this ivy and this lawn would haveyielded nothing to an expert observer.""I am not to blame, Mr. Holmes. His Grace was extremely desirous toavoid all public scandal. He was afraid of his family unhappiness beingdragged before the world. He has a deep horror of anything of the kind.""But there has been some official investigation?""Yes, sir, and it has proved most disappointing. An apparent clue wasat once obtained, since a boy and a young man were reported to have beenseen leaving a neighbouring station by an early train. Only last night wehad news that the couple had been hunted down in Liverpool, and theyprove to have no connection whatever with the matter in hand. Then itwas that in my despair and disappointment, after a sleepless night, I camestraight to you by the early train.""I suppose the local investigation was relaxed while this false clue wasbeing followed up?""It was entirely dropped.""So that three days have been wasted. The affair has been mostdeplorably handled.""I feel it and admit it.""And yet the problem should be capable of ultimate solution. I shall bevery happy to look into it. Have you been able to trace any connectionbetween the missing boy and this German master?""None at all.""Was he in the master's class?"[542] "No, he never exchanged a word with him, so far as I know.""That is certainly very singular. Had the boy a bicycle?""No.""Was any other bicycle missing?""No.""Is that certain?""Quite.""Well, now, you do not mean to seriously suggest that this Germanrode off upon a bicycle in the dead of the night, bearing the boy in hisarms?""Certainly not.""Then what is the theory in your mind?""The bicycle may have been a blind. It may have been hiddensomewhere, and the pair gone off on foot.""Quite so, but it seems rather an absurd blind, does it not? Were thereother bicycles in this shed?""Several.""Would he not have hidden a couple, had he desired to give the ideathat they had gone off upon them?""I suppose he would.""Of course he would. The blind theory won't do. But the incident is anadmirable starting-point for an investigation. After all, a bicycle is not aneasy thing to conceal or to destroy. One other question. Did anyone call tosee the boy on the day before he disappeared?""No.""Did he get any letters?""Yes, one letter.""From whom?""From his father.""Do you open the boys' letters?""No.""How do you know it was from the father?""The coat of arms was on the envelope, and it was addressed in theDuke's peculiar stiff hand. Besides, the Duke remembers having written.""When had he a letter before that?""Not for several days.""Had he ever one from France?""No, never.""You see the point of my questions, of course. Either the boy wascarried off by force or he went of his own free will. In the latter case, youwould expect that some prompting from outside would be needed to make so young a lad do such a thing. If he has had no visitors, that promptingmust have come in letters; hence I try to find out who were hiscorrespondents.""I fear I cannot help you much. His only correspondent, so far as Iknow, was his own father.""Who wrote to him on the very day of his disappearance. Were therelations between father and son very friendly?""His Grace is never very friendly with anyone. He is completelyimmersed in large public questions, and is rather inaccessible to allordinary emotions. But he was always kind to the boy in his own way."[543] "But the sympathies of the latter were with the mother?""Yes.""Did he say so?""No.""The Duke, then?""Good heaven, no!""Then how could you know?""I have had some confidential talks with Mr. James Wilder, his Grace'ssecretary. It was he who gave me the information about Lord Saltire'sfeelings.""I see. By the way, that last letter of the Duke's-was it found in theboy's room after he was gone?""No, he had taken it with him. I think, Mr. Holmes, it is time that wewere leaving for Euston.""I will order a four-wheeler. In a quarter of an hour, we shall be at yourservice. If you are telegraphing home, Mr. Huxtable, it would be well toallow the people in your neighbourhood to imagine that the inquiry is stillgoing on in Liverpool, or wherever else that red herring led your pack. Inthe meantime I will do a little quiet work at your own doors, and perhapsthe scent is not so cold but that two old hounds like Watson and myselfmay get a sniff of it."That evening found us in the cold, bracing atmosphere of the Peakcountry, in which Dr. Huxtable's famous school is situated. It was alreadydark when we reached it. A card was lying on the hall table, and the butlerwhispered something to his master, who turned to us with agitation inevery heavy feature."The Duke is here," said he. "The Duke and Mr. Wilder are in thestudy. Come, gentlemen, and I will introduce you."I was, of course, familiar with the pictures of the famous statesman, butthe man himself was very different from his representation. He was a talland stately person, scrupulously dressed, with a drawn, thin face, and anose which was grotesquely curved and long. His complexion was of adead pallor, which was more startling by contrast with a long, dwindlingbeard of vivid red, which flowed down over his white waistcoat, with hiswatch-chain gleaming through its fringe. Such was the stately presencewho looked stonily at us from the centre of Dr. Huxtable's hearthrug.Beside him stood a very young man, whom I understood to be Wilder, theprivate secretary. He was small, nervous, alert, with intelligent light-blueeyes and mobile features. It was he who at once, in an incisive and positive tone, opened the conversation."I called this morning, Dr. Huxtable, too late to prevent you fromstarting for London. I learned that your object was to invite Mr. SherlockHolmes to undertake the conduct of this case. His Grace is surprised, Dr.Huxtable, that you should have taken such a step without consulting him.""When I learned that the police had failed- -""His Grace is by no means convinced that the police have failed.""But surely, Mr. Wilder- -""You are well aware, Dr. Huxtable, that his Grace is particularlyanxious to avoid all public scandal. He prefers to take as few people aspossible into his confidence.""The matter can be easily remedied," said the browbeaten doctor; "Mr.Sherlock Holmes can return to London by the morning train.""Hardly that, Doctor, hardly that," said Holmes, in his blandest voice."This northern air is invigorating and pleasant, so I propose to spend afew days upon your [544] moors, and to occupy my mind as best I may.Whether I have the shelter of your roof or of the village inn is, of course,for you to decide."I could see that the unfortunate doctor was in the last stage ofindecision, from which he was rescued by the deep, sonorous voice of thered-bearded Duke, which boomed out like a dinner-gong."I agree with Mr. Wilder, Dr. Huxtable, that you would have donewisely to consult me. But since Mr. Holmes has already been taken intoyour confidence, it would indeed be absurd that we should not availourselves of his services. Far from going to the inn, Mr. Holmes, I should be pleased if you would come and stay with me at Holdernesse Hall.""I thank your Grace. For the purposes of my investigation, I think thatit would be wiser for me to remain at the scene of the mystery.""Just as you like, Mr. Holmes. Any information which Mr. Wilder or Ican give you is, of course, at your disposal.""It will probably be necessary for me to see you at the Hall," saidHolmes. "I would only ask you now, sir, whether you have formed anyexplanation in your own mind as to the mysterious disappearance of yourson?""No, sir, I have not.""Excuse me if I allude to that which is painful to you, but I have noalternative. Do you think that the Duchess had anything to do with thematter?"The great minister showed perceptible hesitation."I do not think so," he said, at last."The other most obvious explanation is that the child has beenkidnapped for the purpose of levying ransom. You have not had anydemand of the sort?""No, sir.""One more question, your Grace. I understand that you wrote to yourson upon the day when this incident occurred.""No, I wrote upon the day before.""Exactly. But he received it on that day?""Yes.""Was there anything in your letter which might have unbalanced him orinduced him to take such a step?""No, sir, certainly not.""Did you post that letter yourself?"The nobleman's reply was interrupted by his secretary, who broke inwith some heat."His Grace is not in the habit of posting letters himself," said he. "Thisletter was laid with others upon the study table, and I myself put them inthe post-bag.""You are sure this one was among them?""Yes, I observed it.""How many letters did your Grace write that day?""Twenty or thirty. I have a large correspondence. But surely this issomewhat irrelevant?""Not entirely," said Holmes."For my own part," the Duke continued, "I have advised the police toturn their attention to the south of France. I have already said that I do notbelieve that the Duchess would encourage so monstrous an action, but thelad had the most wrong-headed opinions, and it is possible that he mayhave fled to her, aided and abetted by this German. I think, Dr. Huxtable,that we will now return to the Hall."[545] I could see that there were other questions which Holmes wouldhave wished to put, but the nobleman's abrupt manner showed that theinterview was at an end. It was evident that to his intensely aristocraticnature this discussion of his intimate family affairs with a stranger wasmost abhorrent, and that he feared lest every fresh question would throw afiercer light into the discreetly shadowed corners of his ducal history.When the nobleman and his secretary had left, my friend flung himselfat once with characteristic eagerness into the investigation.The boy's chamber was carefully examined, and yielded nothing savethe absolute conviction that it was only through the window that he couldhave escaped. The German master's room and effects gave no furtherclue. In his case a trailer of ivy had given way under his weight, and wesaw by the light of a lantern the mark on the lawn where his heels hadcome down. That one dint in the short, green grass was the only materialwitness left of this inexplicable nocturnal flight. Sherlock Holmes left the house alone, and only returned after eleven.He had obtained a large ordnance map of the neighbourhood, and this hebrought into my room, where he laid it out on the bed, and, havingbalanced the lamp in the middle of it, he began to smoke over it, andoccasionally to point out objects of interest with the reeking amber of hispipe."This case grows upon me, Watson," said he. "There are decidedlysome points of interest in connection with it. In this early stage, I wantyou to realize those geographical features which may have a good deal todo with our investigation."Look at this map. This dark square is the Priory School. I'll put a pinin it. Now, this line is the main road. You see that it runs east and westpast the school, and you see also that there is no side road for a mile eitherway. If these two folk passed away by road, it was this road."[546] "Exactly.""By a singular and happy chance, we are able to some extent to checkwhat passed along this road during the night in question. At this point,where my pipe is now resting, a county constable was on duty fromtwelve to six. It is, as you perceive, the first cross-road on the east side.This man declares that he was not absent from his post for an instant, andhe is positive that neither boy nor man could have gone that way unseen. Ihave spoken with this policeman to-night, and he appears to me to be aperfectly reliable person. That blocks this end. We have now to deal withthe other. There is an inn here, the Red Bull, the landlady of which wasill. She had sent to Mackleton for a doctor, but he did not arrive untilmorning, being absent at another case. The people at the inn were alert allnight, awaiting his coming, and one or other of them seems to havecontinually had an eye upon the road. They declare that no one passed. If their evidence is good, then we are fortunate enough to be able to blockthe west, and also to be able to say that the fugitives did not use the roadat all.""But the bicycle?" I objected."Quite so. We will come to the bicycle presently. To continue ourreasoning: if these people did not go by the road, they must havetraversed the country to the north of the house or to the south of thehouse. That is certain. Let us weigh the one against the other. On thesouth of the house is, as you perceive, a large district of arable land, cutup into small fields, with stone walls between them. There, I admit that abicycle is impossible. We can dismiss the idea. We turn to the country onthe north. Here there lies a grove of trees, marked as the 'Ragged Shaw,'and on the farther side stretches a great rolling moor, Lower Gill Moor,extending for ten miles and sloping gradually upward. Here, at one side ofthis wilderness, is Holdernesse Hall, ten miles by road, but only six acrossthe moor. It is a peculiarly desolate plain. A few moor farmers have smallholdings, where they rear sheep and cattle. Except these, the plover andthe curlew are the only inhabitants until you come to the Chesterfield highroad. There is a church there, you see, a few cottages, and an inn. Beyondthat the hills become precipitous. Surely it is here to the north that ourquest must lie.""But the bicycle?" I persisted."Well, well!" said Holmes, impatiently. "A good cyclist does not needa high road. The moor is intersected with paths, and the moon was at thefull. Halloa! what is this?"There was an agitated knock at the door, and an instant afterwards Dr.Huxtable was in the room. In his hand he held a blue cricket-cap with awhite chevron on the peak."At last we have a clue!" he cried. "Thank heaven! at last we are on thedear boy's track! It is his cap.""Where was it found?""In the van of the gipsies who camped on the moor. They left onTuesday. To-day the police traced them down and examined theircaravan. This was found.""How do they account for it?""They shuffled and lied-said that they found it on the moor on Tuesdaymorning. They know where he is, the rascals! Thank goodness, they areall safe under lock and key. Either the fear of the law or the Duke's pursewill certainly get out of them all that they know.""So far, so good," said Holmes, when the doctor had at last left theroom. "It at [547] least bears out the theory that it is on the side of theLower Gill Moor that we must hope for results. The police have reallydone nothing locally, save the arrest of these gipsies. Look here, Watson!There is a watercourse across the moor. You see it marked here in themap. In some parts it widens into a morass. This is particularly so in theregion between Holdernesse Hall and the school. It is vain to lookelsewhere for tracks in this dry weather, but at that point there is certainlya chance of some record being left. I will call you early to-morrowmorning, and you and I will try if we can throw some little light upon the mystery."The day was just breaking when I woke to find the long, thin form ofHolmes by my bedside. He was fully dressed, and had apparently alreadybeen out."I have done the lawn and the bicycle shed," said he. "I have also had aramble through the Ragged Shaw. Now, Watson, there is cocoa ready inthe next room. I must beg you to hurry, for we have a great day before us."His eyes shone, and his cheek was flushed with the exhilaration of themaster workman who sees his work lie ready before him. A very differentHolmes, this active, alert man, from the introspective and pallid dreamerof Baker Street. I felt, as I looked upon that supple figure, alive withnervous energy, that it was indeed a strenuous day that awaited us.And yet it opened in the blackest disappointment. With high hopes westruck across the peaty, russet moor, intersected with a thousand sheeppaths, until we came to the broad, light-green belt which marked themorass between us and Holdernesse. Certainly, if the lad had gonehomeward, he must have passed this, and he could not pass it withoutleaving his traces. But no sign of him or the German could be seen. Witha darkening face my friend strode along the margin, eagerly observant ofevery muddy stain upon the mossy surface. Sheep-marks there were inprofusion, and at one place, some miles down, cows had left their tracks.Nothing more."Check number one," said Holmes, looking gloomily over the rollingexpanse of the moor. "There is another morass down yonder, and anarrow neck between. Halloa! halloa! halloa! what have we here?"We had come on a small black ribbon of pathway. In the middle of it,clearly marked on the sodden soil, was the track of a bicycle."Hurrah!" I cried. "We have it."But Holmes was shaking his head, and his face was puzzled andexpectant rather than joyous."A bicycle, certainly, but not the bicycle," said he. "I am familiar withforty-two different impressions left by tyres. This, as you perceive, is aDunlop, with a patch upon the outer cover. Heidegger's tyres werePalmer's, leaving longitudinal stripes. Aveling, the mathematical master,was sure upon the point. Therefore, it is not Heidegger's track.""The boy's, then?""Possibly, if we could prove a bicycle to have been in his possession.But this we have utterly failed to do. This track, as you perceive, wasmade by a rider who was going from the direction of the school.""Or towards it?""No, no, my dear Watson. The more deeply sunk impression is, ofcourse, the hind wheel, upon which the weight rests. You perceive severalplaces where it has passed across and obliterated the more shallow markof the front one. It was undoubtedly heading away from the school. It mayor may not be connected with our inquiry, but we will follow itbackwards before we go any farther."[548] We did so, and at the end of a few hundred yards lost the tracks aswe emerged from the boggy portion of the moor. Following the pathbackwards, we picked out another spot, where a spring trickled across it. Here, once again, was the mark of the bicycle, though nearly obliteratedby the hoofs of cows. After that there was no sign, but the path ran righton into Ragged Shaw, the wood which backed on to the school. From thiswood the cycle must have emerged. Holmes sat down on a boulder andrested his chin in his hands. I had smoked two cigarettes before he moved."Well, well," said he, at last. "It is, of course, possible that a cunningman might change the tyres of his bicycle in order to leave unfamiliartracks. A criminal who was capable of such a thought is a man whom Ishould be proud to do business with. We will leave this questionundecided and hark back to our morass again, for we have left a good dealunexplored."We continued our systematic survey of the edge of the sodden portionof the moor, and soon our perseverance was gloriously rewarded. Rightacross the lower part of the bog lay a miry path. Holmes gave a cry ofdelight as he approached it. An impression like a fine bundle of telegraphwires ran down the centre of it. It was the Palmer tyres."Here is Herr Heidegger, sure enough!" cried Holmes, exultantly. "Myreasoning seems to have been pretty sound, Watson.""I congratulate you.""But we have a long way still to go. Kindly walk clear of the path. Nowlet us follow the trail. I fear that it will not lead very far."We found, however, as we advanced that this portion of the moor isintersected with soft patches, and, though we frequently lost sight of thetrack, we always succeeded in picking it up once more."Do you observe," said Holmes, "that the rider is now undoubtedly forcing the pace? There can be no doubt of it. Look at this impression,where you get both tires clear. The one is as deep as the other. That canonly mean that the rider is throwing his weight on to the handle-bar, as aman does when he is sprinting. By Jove! he has had a fall."There was a broad, irregular smudge covering some yards of the track.Then there were a few footmarks, and the tyres reappeared once more."A side-slip," I suggested.Holmes held up a crumpled branch of flowering gorse. To my horror Iperceived that the yellow blossoms were all dabbled with crimson. On thepath, too, and among the heather were dark stains of clotted blood."Bad!" said Holmes. "Bad! Stand clear, Watson! Not an unnecessaryfootstep! What do I read here? He fell wounded-he stood up-heremounted -he proceeded. But there is no other track. Cattle on this sidepath. He was surely not gored by a bull? Impossible! But I see no tracesof anyone else. We must push on, Watson. Surely, with stains as well asthe track to guide us, he cannot escape us now."Our search was not a very long one. The tracks of the tyre began tocurve fantastically upon the wet and shining path. Suddenly, as I lookedahead, the gleam of metal caught my eye from amid the thick gorsebushes. Out of them we dragged a bicycle, Palmer-tyred, one pedal bent,and the whole front of it horribly smeared and slobbered with blood. Onthe other side of the bushes, a shoe was projecting. We ran round, andthere lay the unfortunate rider. He was a tall man, full-bearded, withspectacles, one glass of which had been knocked out. The cause of hisdeath [549] was a frightful blow upon the head, which had crushed in partof his skull. That he could have gone on after receiving such an injurysaid much for the vitality and courage of the man. He wore shoes, but nosocks, and his open coat disclosed a nightshirt beneath it. It wasundoubtedly the German master.Holmes turned the body over reverently, and examined it with greatattention. He then sat in deep thought for a time, and I could see by hisruffled brow that this grim discovery had not, in his opinion, advanced usmuch in our inquiry."It is a little difficult to know what to do, Watson," said he, at last. "Myown inclinations are to push this inquiry on, for we have already lost somuch time that we cannot afford to waste another hour. On the otherhand, we are bound to inform the police of the discovery, and to see thatthis poor fellow's body is looked after.""I could take a note back.""But I need your company and assistance. Wait a bit! There is a fellowcutting peat up yonder. Bring him over here, and he will guide the police."I brought the peasant across, and Holmes dispatched the frightened manwith a note to Dr. Huxtable."Now, Watson," said he, "we have picked up two clues this morning.One is the bicycle with the Palmer tyre, and we see what that has led to.The other is the bicycle with the patched Dunlop. Before we start toinvestigate that, let us try to realize what we do know, so as to make themost of it, and to separate the essential from the accidental.""First of all, I wish to impress upon you that the boy certainly left of hisown free-will. He got down from his window and he went off, eitheralone or with someone. That is sure."I assented."Well, now, let us turn to this unfortunate German master. The boy wasfully dressed when he fled. Therefore, he foresaw what he would do. Butthe German went without his socks. He certainly acted on very shortnotice.""Undoubtedly.""Why did he go? Because, from his bedroom window, he saw the flightof the boy; because he wished to overtake him and bring him back. Heseized his bicycle, pursued the lad, and in pursuing him met his death.""So it would seem.""Now I come to the critical part of my argument. The natural action ofa man in pursuing a little boy would be to run after him. He would knowthat he could overtake him. But the German does not do so. He turns tohis bicycle. I am told that he was an excellent cyclist. He would not dothis, if he did not see that the boy had some swift means of escape.""The other bicycle.""Let us continue our reconstruction. He meets his death five miles fromthe school-not by a bullet, mark you, which even a lad might conceivablydischarge, but by a savage blow dealt by a vigorous arm. The lad, then,had a companion in his flight. And the flight was a swift one, since it tookfive miles before an expert cyclist could overtake them. Yet we survey theground round the scene of the tragedy. What do we find? A few cattletracks, nothing more. I took a wide sweep round, and there is no pathwithin fifty yards. Another cyclist could have had nothing to do with theactual murder, nor were there any human footmarks.""Holmes," I cried, "this is impossible." [550] "Admirable!" he said. "A most illuminating remark. It isimpossible as I state it, and therefore I must in some respect have stated itwrong. Yet you saw for yourself. Can you suggest any fallacy?""He could not have fractured his skull in a fall?""In a morass, Watson?""I am at my wit's end.""Tut, tut, we have solved some worse problems. At least we haveplenty of material, if we can only use it. Come, then, and, havingexhausted the Palmer, let us see what the Dunlop with the patched coverhas to offer us."We picked up the track and followed it onward for some distance, butsoon the moor rose into a long, heather-tufted curve, and we left thewatercourse behind us. No further help from tracks could be hoped for. Atthe spot where we saw the last of the Dunlop tyre it might equally haveled to Holdernesse Hall, the stately towers of which rose some miles toour left, or to a low, gray village which lay in front of us and marked theposition of the Chesterfield high road.As we approached the forbidding and squalid inn, with the sign of agame-cock above the door, Holmes gave a sudden groan, and clutched meby the shoulder to save himself from falling. He had had one of thoseviolent strains of the ankle which leave a man helpless. With difficulty helimped up to the door, where a squat, dark, elderly man was smoking ablack clay pipe."How are you, Mr. Reuben Hayes?" said Holmes. "Who are you, and how do you get my name so pat?" the countrymananswered, with a suspicious flash of a pair of cunning eyes."Well, it's printed on the board above your head. It's easy to see a manwho is master of his own house. I suppose you haven't such a thing as acarriage in your stables?""No, I have not.""I can hardly put my foot to the ground.""Don't put it to the ground.""But I can't walk.""Well, then, hop."Mr. Reuben Hayes's manner was far from gracious, but Holmes took itwith admirable good-humour."Look here, my man," said he. "This is really rather an awkward fix forme. I don't mind how I get on.""Neither do I," said the morose landlord."The matter is very important. I would offer you a sovereign for the useof a bicycle."The landlord pricked up his ears."Where do you want to go?""To Holdernesse Hall.""Pals of the Dook, I suppose?" said the landlord, surveying our mudstained garments with ironical eyes.Holmes laughed good-naturedly."He'll be glad to see us, anyhow.""Why?""Because we bring him news of his lost son."The landlord gave a very visible start."What, you're on his track?"[551] "He has been heard of in Liverpool. They expect to get him everyhour."Again a swift change passed over the heavy, unshaven face. Hismanner was suddenly genial."I've less reason to wish the Dook well than most men," said he, "for Iwas his head coachman once, and cruel bad he treated me. It was him thatsacked me without a character on the word of a lying corn-chandler. ButI'm glad to hear that the young lord was heard of in Liverpool, and I'llhelp you to take the news to the Hall.""Thank you," said Holmes. "We'll have some food first. Then you canbring round the bicycle.""I haven't got a bicycle."Holmes held up a sovereign."I tell you, man, that I haven't got one. I'll let you have two horses asfar as the Hall.""Well, well," said Holmes, "we'll talk about it when we've hadsomething to eat."When we were left alone in the stone-flagged kitchen, it wasastonishing how rapidly that sprained ankle recovered. It was nearlynightfall, and we had eaten nothing since early morning, so that we spentsome time over our meal. Holmes was lost in thought, and once or twice he walked over to the window and stared earnestly out. It opened on to asqualid courtyard. In the far corner was a smithy, where a grimy lad wasat work. On the other side were the stables. Holmes had sat down againafter one of these excursions, when he suddenly sprang out of his chairwith a loud exclamation."By heaven, Watson, I believe that I've got it!" he cried. "Yes, yes, itmust be so. Watson, do you remember seeing any cow-tracks to-day?""Yes, several.""Where?""Well, everywhere. They were at the morass, and again on the path,and again near where poor Heidegger met his death.""Exactly. Well, now, Watson, how many cows did you see on themoor?""I don't remember seeing any.""Strange, Watson, that we should see tracks all along our line, butnever a cow on the whole moor. Very strange, Watson, eh?""Yes, it is strange.""Now, Watson, make an effort, throw your mind back. Can you seethose tracks upon the path?""Yes, I can.""Can you recall that the tracks were sometimes like that, Watson"-hearranged a number of bread-crumbs in this fashion- : : : : : -"andsometimes like this"- : . : . : . : . -"and occasionally like this"- . · . · . · ."Can you remember that?""No, I cannot.""But I can. I could swear to it. However, we will go back at our leisureand verify it. What a blind beetle I have been, not to draw my conclusion.""And what is your conclusion?""Only that it is a remarkable cow which walks, canters, and gallops. ByGeorge! Watson, it was no brain of a country publican that thought outsuch a blind as that. The coast seems to be clear, save for that lad in thesmithy. Let us slip out and see what we can see."[552] There were two rough-haired, unkempt horses in the tumble-downstable. Holmes raised the hind leg of one of them and laughed aloud."Old shoes, but newly shod-old shoes, but new nails. This casedeserves to be a classic. Let us go across to the smithy."The lad continued his work without regarding us. I saw Holmes's eyedarting to right and left among the litter of iron and wood which wasscattered about the floor. Suddenly, however, we heard a step behind us,and there was the landlord, his heavy eyebrows drawn over his savageeyes, his swarthy features convulsed with passion. He held a short, metalheaded stick in his hand, and he advanced in so menacing a fashion that Iwas right glad to feel the revolver in my pocket."You infernal spies!" the man cried. "What are you doing there?""Why, Mr. Reuben Hayes," said Holmes, coolly, "one might think thatyou were afraid of our finding something out."The man mastered himself with a violent effort, and his grim mouthloosened into a false laugh, which was more menacing than his frown."You're welcome to all you can find out in my smithy," said he. "But look here, mister, I don't care for folk poking about my place without myleave, so the sooner you pay your score and get out of this the better Ishall be pleased.""All right, Mr. Hayes, no harm meant," said Holmes. "We have beenhaving a look at your horses, but I think I'll walk, after all. It's not far, Ibelieve.""Not more than two miles to the Hall gates. That's the road to the left."He watched us with sullen eyes until we had left his premises.We did not go very far along the road, for Holmes stopped the instantthat the curve hid us from the landlord's view."We were warm, as the children say, at that inn," said he. "I seem togrow colder every step that I take away from it. No, no, I can't possiblyleave it.""I am convinced," said I, "that this Reuben Hayes knows all about it. Amore self-evident villain I never saw.""Oh! he impressed you in that way, did he? There are the horses, thereis the smithy. Yes, it is an interesting place, this Fighting Cock. I think weshall have another look at it in an unobtrusive way."A long, sloping hillside, dotted with gray limestone boulders, stretchedbehind us. We had turned off the road, and were making our way up thehill, when, looking in the direction of Holdernesse Hall, I saw a cyclistcoming swiftly along."Get down, Watson!" cried Holmes, with a heavy hand upon myshoulder. We had hardly sunk from view when the man flew past us onthe road. Amid a rolling cloud of dust, I caught a glimpse of a pale,agitated face-a face with horror in every lineament, the mouth open, theeyes staring wildly in front. It was like some strange caricature of thedapper James Wilder whom we had seen the night before."The Duke's secretary!" cried Holmes. "Come, Watson, let us see whathe does."We scrambled from rock to rock, until in a few moments we had madeour way to a point from which we could see the front door of the inn.Wilder's bicycle was leaning against the wall beside it. No one wasmoving about the house, nor could we catch a glimpse of any faces at thewindows. Slowly the twilight crept down as the sun sank behind the hightowers of Holdernesse Hall. Then, in the gloom, we saw the two sidelamps of a trap light up in the stable-yard of the inn, and shortlyafterwards heard the rattle of hoofs, as it wheeled out into the road andtore off at a furious pace in the direction of Chesterfield.[553] "What do you make of that, Watson?" Holmes whispered."It looks like a flight.""A single man in a dog-cart, so far as I could see. Well, it certainly wasnot Mr. James Wilder, for there he is at the door."A red square of light had sprung out of the darkness. In the middle of itwas the black figure of the secretary, his head advanced, peering out intothe night. It was evident that he was expecting someone. Then at last therewere steps in the road, a second figure was visible for an instant againstthe light, the door shut, and all was black once more. Five minutes later alamp was lit in a room upon the first floor."It seems to be a curious class of custom that is done by the FightingCock," said Holmes."The bar is on the other side.""Quite so. These are what one may call the private guests. Now, what in the world is Mr. James Wilder doing in that den at this hour of night,and who is the companion who comes to meet him there? Come, Watson,we must really take a risk and try to investigate this a little more closely."Together we stole down to the road and crept across to the door of theinn. The bicycle still leaned against the wall. Holmes struck a match andheld it to the back wheel, and I heard him chuckle as the light fell upon apatched Dunlop tyre. Up above us was the lighted window."I must have a peep through that, Watson. If you bend your back andsupport yourself upon the wall, I think that I can manage."An instant later, his feet were on my shoulders, but he was hardly upbefore he was down again."Come, my friend," said he, "our day's work has been quite longenough. I think that we have gathered all that we can. It's a long walk tothe school, and the sooner we get started the better."He hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across the moor, norwould he enter the school when he reached it, but went on to MackletonStation, whence he could send some telegrams. Late at night I heard himconsoling Dr. Huxtable, prostrated by the tragedy of his master's death,and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as he had beenwhen he started in the morning. "All goes well, my friend," said he. "Ipromise that before to-morrow evening we shall have reached the solutionof the mystery."At eleven o'clock next morning my friend and I were walking up the famous yew avenue of Holdernesse Hall. We were ushered through themagnificent Elizabethan doorway and into his Grace's study. There wefound Mr. James Wilder, demure and courtly, but with some trace of thatwild terror of the night before still lurking in his furtive eyes and in histwitching features."You have come to see his Grace? I am sorry, but the fact is that theDuke is far from well. He has been very much upset by the tragic news.We received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable yesterday afternoon, whichtold us of your discovery.""I must see the Duke, Mr. Wilder.""But he is in his room.""Then I must go to his room.""I believe he is in his bed.""I will see him there."[554] Holmes's cold and inexorable manner showed the secretary that itwas useless to argue with him."Very good, Mr. Holmes, I will tell him that you are here."After an hour's delay, the great nobleman appeared. His face was morecadaverous than ever, his shoulders had rounded, and he seemed to me tobe an altogether older man than he had been the morning before. Hegreeted us with a stately courtesy and seated himself at his desk, his redbeard streaming down on the table."Well, Mr. Holmes?" said he.But my friend's eyes were fixed upon the secretary, who stood by hismaster's chair."I think, your Grace, that I could speak more freely in Mr. Wilder'sabsence."The man turned a shade paler and cast a malignant glance at Holmes."If your Grace wishes- -""Yes, yes, you had better go. Now, Mr. Holmes, what have you to say?"My friend waited until the door had closed behind the retreatingsecretary."The fact is, your Grace," said he, "that my colleague, Dr. Watson, andmyself had an assurance from Dr. Huxtable that a reward had beenoffered in this case. I should like to have this confirmed from your ownlips.""Certainly, Mr. Holmes.""It amounted, if I am correctly informed, to five thousand pounds toanyone who will tell you where your son is?""Exactly.""And another thousand to the man who will name the person or personswho keep him in custody?""Exactly.""Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those whomay have taken him away, but also those who conspire to keep him in hispresent position?""Yes, yes," cried the Duke, impatiently. "If you do your work well, Mr.Sherlock Holmes, you will have no reason to complain of niggardlytreatment." My friend rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance of aviditywhich was a surprise to me, who knew his frugal tastes."I fancy that I see your Grace's check-book upon the table," said he. "Ishould be glad if you would make me out a check for six thousandpounds. It would be as well, perhaps, for you to cross it. The Capital andCounties Bank, Oxford Street branch are my agents."His Grace sat very stern and upright in his chair and looked stonily atmy friend."Is this a joke, Mr. Holmes? It is hardly a subject for pleasantry.""Not at all, your Grace. I was never more earnest in my life.""What do you mean, then?""I mean that I have earned the reward. I know where your son is, and Iknow some, at least, of those who are holding him."The Duke's beard had turned more aggressively red than ever againsthis ghastly white face."Where is he?" he gasped."He is, or was last night, at the Fighting Cock Inn, about two milesfrom your park gate."The Duke fell back in his chair."And whom do you accuse?"[555] Sherlock Holmes's answer was an astounding one. He steppedswiftly forward and touched the Duke upon the shoulder."I accuse you," said he. "And now, your Grace, I'll trouble you for thatcheck."Never shall I forget the Duke's appearance as he sprang up and clawedwith his hands, like one who is sinking into an abyss. Then, with anextraordinary effort of aristocratic self-command, he sat down and sankhis face in his hands. It was some minutes before he spoke."How much do you know?" he asked at last, without raising his head."I saw you together last night.""Does anyone else beside your friend know?""I have spoken to no one."The Duke took a pen in his quivering fingers and opened his checkbook."I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes. I am about to write yourcheck, however unwelcome the information which you have gained maybe to me. When the offer was first made, I little thought the turn whichevents might take. But you and your friend are men of discretion, Mr.Holmes?""I hardly understand your Grace.""I must put it plainly, Mr. Holmes. If only you two know of thisincident, there is no reason why it should go any farther. I think twelvethousand pounds is the sum that I owe you, is it not?"But Holmes smiled and shook his head."I fear, your Grace, that matters can hardly be arranged so easily. Thereis the death of this schoolmaster to be accounted for.""But James knew nothing of that. You cannot hold him responsible forthat. It was the work of this brutal ruffian whom he had the misfortune toemploy." "I must take the view, your Grace, that when a man embarks upon acrime, he is morally guilty of any other crime which may spring from it.""Morally, Mr. Holmes. No doubt you are right. But surely not in theeyes of the law. A man cannot be condemned for a murder at which hewas not present, and which he loathes and abhors as much as you do. Theinstant that he heard of it he made a complete confession to me, so filledwas he with horror and remorse. He lost not an hour in breaking entirelywith the murderer. Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him-you must savehim! I tell you that you must save him!" The Duke had dropped the lastattempt at self-command, and was pacing the room with a convulsed faceand with his clenched hands raving in the air. At last he mastered himselfand sat down once more at his desk. "I appreciate your conduct in cominghere before you spoke to anyone else," said he. "At least, we may takecounsel how far we can minimize this hideous scandal.""Exactly," said Holmes. "I think, your Grace, that this can only be doneby absolute frankness between us. I am disposed to help your Grace to thebest of my ability, but, in order to do so, I must understand to the lastdetail how the matter stands. I realize that your words applied to Mr.James Wilder, and that he is not the murderer.""No, the murderer has escaped."Sherlock Holmes smiled demurely."Your Grace can hardly have heard of any small reputation which Ipossess, or you would not imagine that it is so easy to escape me. Mr.Reuben Hayes was arrested at Chesterfield, on my information, at eleven o'clock last night. I had a telegram from the head of the local policebefore I left the school this morning."[556] The Duke leaned back in his chair and stared with amazement atmy friend."You seem to have powers that are hardly human," said he. "SoReuben Hayes is taken? I am right glad to hear it, if it will not react uponthe fate of James.""Your secretary?""No, sir, my son."It was Holmes's turn to look astonished."I confess that this is entirely new to me, your Grace. I must beg you tobe more explicit.""I will conceal nothing from you. I agree with you that completefrankness, however painful it may be to me, is the best policy in thisdesperate situation to which James's folly and jealousy have reduced us.When I was a very young man, Mr. Holmes, I loved with such a love ascomes only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but she refusedit on the grounds that such a match might mar my career. Had she lived, Iwould certainly never have married anyone else. She died, and left thisone child, whom for her sake I have cherished and cared for. I could notacknowledge the paternity to the world, but I gave him the best ofeducations, and since he came to manhood I have kept him near myperson. He surprised my secret, and has presumed ever since upon theclaim which he has upon me, and upon his power of provoking a scandalwhich would be abhorrent to me. His presence had something to do withthe unhappy issue of my marriage. Above all, he hated my younglegitimate heir from the first with a persistent hatred. You may well askme why, under these circumstances, I still kept James under my roof. Ianswer that it was because I could see his mother's face in his, and thatfor her dear sake there was no end to my long-suffering. All her prettyways too-there was not one of them which he could not suggest and bringback to my memory. I could not send him away. But I feared so much lesthe should do Arthur-that is, Lord Saltire- a mischief, that I dispatchedhim for safety to Dr. Huxtable's school."James came into contact with this fellow Hayes, because the man wasa tenant of mine, and James acted as agent. The fellow was a rascal fromthe beginning, but, in some extraordinary way, James became intimatewith him. He had always a taste for low company. When Jamesdetermined to kidnap Lord Saltire, it was of this man's service that heavailed himself. You remember that I wrote to Arthur upon that last day.Well, James opened the letter and inserted a note asking Arthur to meethim in a little wood called the Ragged Shaw, which is near to the school.He used the Duchess's name, and in that way got the boy to come. Thatevening James bicycled over-I am telling you what he has himselfconfessed to me-and he told Arthur, whom he met in the wood, that hismother longed to see him, that she was awaiting him on the moor, andthat if he would come back into the wood at midnight he would find aman with a horse, who would take him to her. Poor Arthur fell into thetrap. He came to the appointment, and found this fellow Hayes with a led pony. Arthur mounted, and they set off together. It appears-though thisJames only heard yesterday -that they were pursued, that Hayes struckthe pursuer with his stick, and that the man died of his injuries. Hayesbrought Arthur to his public-house, the Fighting Cock, where he wasconfined in an upper room, under the care of Mrs. Hayes, who is a kindlywoman, but entirely under the control of her brutal husband."Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first saw youtwo days ago. I had no more idea of the truth than you. You will ask mewhat was James's [557] motive in doing such a deed. I answer that therewas a great deal which was unreasoning and fanatical in the hatred whichhe bore my heir. In his view he should himself have been heir of all myestates, and he deeply resented those social laws which made itimpossible. At the same time, he had a definite motive also. He was eagerthat I should break the entail, and he was of opinion that it lay in mypower to do so. He intended to make a bargain with me-to restore Arthurif I would break the entail, and so make it possible for the estate to be leftto him by will. He knew well that I should never willingly invoke the aidof the police against him. I say that he would have proposed such abargain to me; but he did not actually do so, for events moved too quicklyfor him, and he had not time to put his plans into practice."What brought all his wicked scheme to wreck was your discovery ofthis man Heidegger's dead body. James was seized with horror at thenews. It came to us yesterday, as we sat together in this study. Dr.Huxtable had sent a telegram. James was so overwhelmed with grief andagitation that my suspicions, which had never been entirely absent, roseinstantly to a certainty, and I taxed him with the deed. He made acomplete voluntary confession. Then he implored me to keep his secretfor three days longer, so as to give his wretched accomplice a chance ofsaving his guilty life. I yielded-as I have always yielded-to his prayers,and instantly James hurried off to the Fighting Cock to warn Hayes andgive him the means of flight. I could not go there by daylight withoutprovoking comment, but as soon as night fell I hurried off to see my dearArthur. I found him safe and well, but horrified beyond expression by thedreadful deed he had witnessed. In deference to my promise, and muchagainst my will, I consented to leave him there for three days, under thecharge of Mrs. Hayes, since it was evident that it was impossible toinform the police where he was without telling them also who was themurderer, and I could not see how that murderer could be punishedwithout ruin to my unfortunate James. You asked for frankness, Mr.Holmes, and I have taken you at your word, for I have now told youeverything without an attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Do youin turn be as frank with me.""I will," said Holmes. "In the first place, your Grace, I am bound to tellyou that you have placed yourself in a most serious position in the eyes ofthe law. You have condoned a felony, and you have aided the escape of amurderer, for I cannot doubt that any money which was taken by JamesWilder to aid his accomplice in his flight came from your Grace's purse."The Duke bowed his assent."This is, indeed, a most serious matter. Even more culpable in my opinion, your Grace, is your attitude towards your younger son. Youleave him in this den for three days.""Under solemn promises- -""What are promises to such people as these? You have no guaranteethat he will not be spirited away again. To humour your guilty elder son,you have exposed your innocent younger son to imminent andunnecessary danger. It was a most unjustifiable action."The proud lord of Holdernesse was not accustomed to be so rated in hisown ducal hall. The blood flushed into his high forehead, but hisconscience held him dumb."I will help you, but on one condition only. It is that you ring for thefootman and let me give such orders as I like."Without a word, the Duke pressed the electric bell. A servant entered.[558] "You will be glad to hear," said Holmes, "that your young masteris found. It is the Duke's desire that the carriage shall go at once to theFighting Cock Inn to bring Lord Saltire home."Now," said Holmes, when the rejoicing lackey had disappeared,"having secured the future, we can afford to be more lenient with the past.I am not in an official position, and there is no reason, so long as the endsof justice are served, why I should disclose all that I know. As to Hayes, Isay nothing. The gallows awaits him, and I would do nothing to save himfrom it. What he will divulge I cannot tell, but I have no doubt that yourGrace could make him understand that it is to his interest to be silent.From the police point of view he will have kidnapped the boy for thepurpose of ransom. If they do not themselves find it out, I see no reasonwhy I should prompt them to take a broader point of view. I would warnyour Grace, however, that the continued presence of Mr. James Wilder inyour household can only lead to misfortune.""I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that he shallleave me forever, and go to seek his fortune in Australia.""In that case, your Grace, since you have yourself stated that anyunhappiness in your married life was caused by his presence, I wouldsuggest that you make such amends as you can to the Duchess, and thatyou try to resume those relations which have been so unhappilyinterrupted.""That also I have arranged, Mr. Holmes. I wrote to the Duchess thismorning.""In that case," said Holmes, rising, "I think that my friend and I cancongratulate ourselves upon several most happy results from our littlevisit to the North. There is one other small point upon which I desiresome light. This fellow Hayes had shod his horses with shoes whichcounterfeited the tracks of cows. Was it from Mr. Wilder that he learnedso extraordinary a device?"The Duke stood in thought for a moment, with a look of intensesurprise on his face. Then he opened a door and showed us into a largeroom furnished as a museum. He led the way to a glass case in a corner,and pointed to the inscription."These shoes," it ran, "were dug up in the moat of Holdernesse Hall.They are for the use of horses, but they are shaped below with a cloven foot of iron, so as to throw pursuers off the track. They are supposed tohave belonged to some of the marauding Barons of Holdernesse in theMiddle Ages."Holmes opened the case, and moistening his finger he passed it alongthe shoe. A thin film of recent mud was left upon his skin."Thank you," said he, as he replaced the glass. "It is the second mostinteresting object that I have seen in the North.""And the first?"Holmes folded up his check and placed it carefully in his notebook. "Iam a poor man," said he, as he patted it affectionately, and thrust it intothe depths of his inner pocket.