An inspection of his chair showed me that he had been in the habit of
standing on it, which of course would be necessary in order that he
should reach the ventilator. The sight of the safe, the saucer of milk,
and the loop of whip-cord were enough to finally dispel any doubts
which may have remained. The metallic clang heard by Miss Stoner was
obviously caused by her step-father hastily closing the door of his
safe upon its terrible occupant. Having once made up my mind, you know
the steps which I took in order to put the matter to the proof. I
heard the creature hiss, as I have no doubt that you did also, and I
instantly lit the light and attacked it.”
“With the result of driving it through the ventilator.”
“And also with the result of causing it to turn upon its master at the
other side. Some of the blows of my cane came home, and roused its
snakish temper, so that it flew upon the first person it saw. In this
way I am no doubt indirectly responsible for Dr. Grimesby Roylott’s
death, and I cannot say that it is likely to weigh very heavily upon my
conscience.”
Adventure IX
THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER’S THUMB
Of all the problems which have been submitted to my friend Mr. Sherlock
Holmes for solution during the years of our intimacy, there were only
two which I was the means of introducing to his notice—that of Mr.
Hatherley’s thumb, and that of Colonel Warburton’s madness. Of these
the latter may have afforded a finer field for an acute and original
observer, but the other was so strange in its inception and so dramatic
in its details, that it may be the more worthy of being placed upon
record, even if it gave my friend fewer openings for those deductive
methods of reasoning by which he achieved such remarkable results. The
story has, I believe, been told more than once in the newspapers, but,
like all such narratives, its effect is much less striking when set
forth _en bloc_ in a single half-column of print than when the facts
slowly evolve before your own eyes, and the mystery clears gradually
away as each new discovery furnishes a step which leads on to the
complete truth. At the time the circumstances made a deep impression
upon me, and the lapse of two years has hardly served to weaken the
effect.
It was in the summer of ’89, not long after my marriage, that the
events occurred which I am now about to summarize. I had returned to
civil practice, and had finally abandoned Holmes in his Baker Street
rooms, although I continually visited him, and occasionally even
persuaded him to forego his Bohemian habits so far as to come and visit
us. My practice had steadily increased, and as I happened to live at
no very great distance from Paddington Station, I got a few patients
from among the officials. One of these, whom I had cured of a painful
and lingering disease, was never weary of advertising my virtues, and
of endeavoring to send me on every sufferer over whom he might have any
influence.
One morning, at a little before seven o’clock, I was awakened by
the maid tapping at the door, to announce that two men had come
from Paddington, and were waiting in the consulting-room. I dressed
hurriedly, for I knew by experience that railway cases were seldom
trivial, and hastened down-stairs. As I descended, my old ally, the
guard, came out of the room and closed the door tightly behind him.
“I’ve got him here,” he whispered, jerking his thumb over his shoulder;
“he’s all right.”
“What is it, then?” I asked, for his manner suggested that it was some
strange creature which he had caged up in my room.
“It’s a new patient,” he whispered. “I thought I’d bring him round
myself; then he couldn’t slip away. There he is, all safe and sound. I
must go now, doctor; I have my dooties, just the same as you.” And off
he went, this trusty tout, without even giving me time to thank him.
I entered my consulting-room and found a gentleman seated by the
table. He was quietly dressed in a suit of heather tweed, with a soft
cloth cap, which he had laid down upon my books. Round one of his
hands he had a handkerchief wrapped, which was mottled all over with
blood-stains. He was young, not more than five-and-twenty, I should
say, with a strong, masculine face; but he was exceedingly pale, and
gave me the impression of a man who was suffering from some strong
agitation, which it took all his strength of mind to control.
“I am sorry to knock you up so early, doctor,” said he, “but I have
had a very serious accident during the night. I came in by train this
morning, and on inquiring at Paddington as to where I might find a
doctor, a worthy fellow very kindly escorted me here. I gave the maid a
card, but I see that she has left it upon the side-table.”
I took it up and glanced at it. “Mr. Victor Hatherley, hydraulic
engineer, 16A, Victoria Street (3d floor).” That was the name,
style, and abode of my morning visitor. “I regret that I have kept you
waiting,” said I, sitting down in my library-chair. “You are fresh
from a night journey, I understand, which is in itself a monotonous
occupation.”
“Oh, my night could not be called monotonous,” said he, and laughed. He
laughed very heartily, with a high, ringing note, leaning back in his
chair and shaking his sides. All my medical instincts rose up against
that laugh.
“Stop it!” I cried; “pull yourself together!” and I poured out some
water from a caraffe.
It was useless, however. He was off in one of those hysterical
outbursts which come upon a strong nature when some great crisis is
over and gone. Presently he came to himself once more, very weary and
blushing hotly.
“I have been making a fool of myself,” he gasped.
“Not at all. Drink this.” I dashed some brandy into the water, and the
color began to come back to his bloodless cheeks.
“That’s better!” said he. “And now, doctor, perhaps you would kindly
attend to my thumb, or rather to the place where my thumb used to be.”
He unwound the handkerchief and held out his hand. It gave even my
hardened nerves a shudder to look at it. There were four protruding
fingers and a horrid red, spongy surface where the thumb should have
been. It had been hacked or torn right out from the roots.
“Good heavens!” I cried, “this is a terrible injury. It must have bled
considerably.”
“Yes, it did. I fainted when it was done, and I think that I must have
been senseless for a long time. When I came to I found that it was
still bleeding, so I tied one end of my handkerchief very tightly
round the wrist, and braced it up with a twig.”
“Excellent! You should have been a surgeon.”
“It is a question of hydraulics, you see, and came within my own
province.”
“This has been done,” said I, examining the wound, “by a very heavy and
sharp instrument.”
“A thing like a cleaver,” said he.
“An accident, I presume?”
“By no means.”
“What! a murderous attack?”
“Very murderous indeed.”
“You horrify me.”
I sponged the wound, cleaned it, dressed it, and finally covered it
over with cotton wadding and carbolized bandages. He lay back without
wincing, though he bit his lip from time to time.
“How is that?” I asked, when I had finished.
“Capital! Between your brandy and your bandage, I feel a new man. I was
very weak, but I have had a good deal to go through.”
“Perhaps you had better not speak of the matter. It is evidently trying
to your nerves.”
“Oh no, not now. I shall have to tell my tale to the police; but,
between ourselves, if it were not for the convincing evidence of this
wound of mine, I should be surprised if they believed my statement; for
it is a very extraordinary one, and I have not much in the way of proof
with which to back it up; and, even if they believe me, the clews which
I can give them are so vague that it is a question whether justice will
be done.”
“Ha!” cried I, “if it is anything in the nature of a problem which you
desire to see solved, I should strongly recommend you to come to my
friend Mr. Sherlock Holmes before you go to the official police.”
“Oh, I have heard of that fellow,” answered my visitor, “and I should
be very glad if he would take the matter up, though of course I must
use the official police as well. Would you give me an introduction to
him?”
“I’ll do better. I’ll take you round to him myself.”
“I should be immensely obliged to you.”
“We’ll call a cab and go together. We shall just be in time to have a
little breakfast with him. Do you feel equal to it?”
“Yes; I shall not feel easy until I have told my story.”
“Then my servant will call a cab, and I shall be with you in an
instant.” I rushed up-stairs, explained the matter shortly to my
wife, and in five minutes was inside a hansom, driving with my new
acquaintance to Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes was, as I expected, lounging about his sitting-room in
his dressing-gown, reading the agony column of _The Times_, and smoking
his before-breakfast pipe, which was composed of all the plugs and
dottels left from his smokes of the day before, all carefully dried
and collected on the corner of the mantel-piece. He received us in his
quietly genial fashion, ordered fresh rashers and eggs, and joined us
in a hearty meal. When it was concluded he settled our new acquaintance
upon the sofa, placed a pillow beneath his head, and laid a glass of
brandy-and-water within his reach.
“It is easy to see that your experience has been no common one, Mr.
Hatherley,” said he. “Pray, lie down there and make yourself absolutely
at home. Tell us what you can, but stop when you are tired, and keep up
your strength with a little stimulant.”
“Thank you,” said my patient, “but I have felt another man since the
doctor bandaged me, and I think that your breakfast has completed the
cure. I shall take up as little of your valuable time as possible, so I
shall start at once upon my peculiar experiences.”
Holmes sat in his big arm-chair with the weary, heavy-lidded expression
which veiled his keen and eager nature, while I sat opposite to him,
and we listened in silence to the strange story which our visitor
detailed to us.
“You must know,” said he, “that I am an orphan and a bachelor, residing
alone in lodgings in London. By profession I am an hydraulic engineer,
and I have had considerable experience of my work during the seven
years that I was apprenticed to Venner & Matheson, the well-known
firm, of Greenwich. Two years ago, having served my time, and having
also come into a fair sum of money through my poor father’s death,
I determined to start in business for myself, and took professional
chambers in Victoria Street.
“I suppose that every one finds his first independent start in business
a dreary experience. To me it has been exceptionally so. During two
years I have had three consultations and one small job, and that is
absolutely all that my profession has brought me. My gross takings
amount to £27 10_s._ Every day, from nine in the morning until four in
the afternoon, I waited in my little den, until at last my heart began
to sink, and I came to believe that I should never have any practice at
all.
“Yesterday, however, just as I was thinking of leaving the office,
my clerk entered to say there was a gentleman waiting who wished to
see me upon business. He brought up a card, too, with the name of
‘Colonel Lysander Stark’ engraved upon it. Close at his heels came the
colonel himself, a man rather over the middle size, but of an exceeding
thinness. I do not think that I have ever seen so thin a man. His whole
face sharpened away into nose and chin, and the skin of his cheeks
was drawn quite tense over his outstanding bones. Yet this emaciation
seemed to be his natural habit, and due to no disease, for his eye was
bright, his step brisk, and his bearing assured. He was plainly but
neatly dressed, and his age, I should judge, would be nearer forty than
thirty.
“‘Mr. Hatherley?’ said he, with something of a German accent. ‘You
have been recommended to me, Mr. Hatherley, as being a man who is not
only proficient in his profession, but is also discreet and capable of
preserving a secret.’
“I bowed, feeling as flattered as any young man would at such an
address. ‘May I ask who it was who gave me so good a character?’
“‘Well, perhaps it is better that I should not tell you that just at
this moment. I have it from the same source that you are both an orphan
and a bachelor, and are residing alone in London.’
“‘That is quite correct,’ I answered, ‘but you will excuse me if
I say that I cannot see how all this bears upon my professional
qualifications. I understood that it was on a professional matter that
you wished to speak to me?’
“‘Undoubtedly so. But you will find that all I say is really to the
point. I have a professional commission for you, but absolute secrecy
is quite essential—_absolute_ secrecy, you understand, and of course
we may expect that more from a man who is alone than from one who lives
in the bosom of his family.’
“‘If I promise to keep a secret,’ said I, ‘you may absolutely depend
upon my doing so.’
“He looked very hard at me as I spoke, and it seemed to me that I had
never seen so suspicious and questioning an eye.
“‘Do you promise, then?’ said he, at last.
“‘Yes, I promise.’
“‘Absolute and complete silence before, during, and after? No reference
to the matter at all, either in word or writing?’
“‘I have already given you my word.’
“‘Very good.’ He suddenly sprang up, and darting like lightning across
the room, he flung open the door. The passage outside was empty.
“‘That’s all right,’ said he, coming back. ‘I know that clerks are
sometimes curious as to their master’s affairs. Now we can talk in
safety.’ He drew up his chair very close to mine, and began to stare at
me again with the same questioning and thoughtful look.
“A feeling of repulsion, and of something akin to fear had begun to
rise within me at the strange antics of this fleshless man. Even
my dread of losing a client could not restrain me from showing my
impatience.
“‘I beg that you will state your business, sir,’ said I; ‘my time is of
value.’ Heaven forgive me for that last sentence, but the words came to
my lips.
“‘How would fifty guineas for a night’s work suit you?’ he asked.
“‘Most admirably.’
“‘I say a night’s work, but an hour’s would be nearer the mark. I
simply want your opinion about a hydraulic stamping machine which has
got out of gear. If you show us what is wrong we shall soon set it
right ourselves. What do you think of such a commission as that?’
“‘The work appears to be light and the pay munificent.’
“‘Precisely so. We shall want you to come to-night by the last train.’
“‘Where to?’
“‘To Eyford, in Berkshire. It is a little place near the borders of
Oxfordshire, and within seven miles of Reading. There is a train from
Paddington which would bring you there at about 11.15.’
“‘Very good.’
“‘I shall come down in a carriage to meet you.’
“‘There is a drive, then?’
“‘Yes, our little place is quite out in the country. It is a good seven
miles from Eyford Station.’
“‘Then we can hardly get there before midnight. I suppose there would
be no chance of a train back. I should be compelled to stop the night.’
“‘Yes, we could easily give you a shake-down.’
“‘That is very awkward. Could I not come at some more convenient hour?’
“‘We have judged it best that you should come late. It is to recompense
you for any inconvenience that we are paying to you, a young and
unknown man, a fee which would buy an opinion from the very heads of
your profession. Still, of course, if you would like to draw out of
the business, there is plenty of time to do so.’
“I thought of the fifty guineas, and of how very useful they would be
to me. ‘Not at all,’ said I, ‘I shall be very happy to accommodate
myself to your wishes. I should like, however, to understand a little
more clearly what it is that you wish me to do.’
“‘Quite so. It is very natural that the pledge of secrecy which we have
exacted from you should have aroused your curiosity. I have no wish to
commit you to anything without your having it all laid before you. I
suppose that we are absolutely safe from eavesdroppers?’
“‘Entirely.’
“‘Then the matter stands thus. You are probably aware that
fuller’s-earth is a valuable product, and that it is only found in one
or two places in England?’
“‘I have heard so.’
“‘Some little time ago I bought a small place—a very small
place—within ten miles of Reading. I was fortunate enough to discover
that there was a deposit of fuller’s-earth in one of my fields. On
examining it, however, I found that this deposit was a comparatively
small one, and that it formed a link between two very much larger ones
upon the right and left—both of them, however, in the grounds of my
neighbors. These good people were absolutely ignorant that their land
contained that which was quite as valuable as a gold-mine. Naturally,
it was to my interest to buy their land before they discovered its true
value; but, unfortunately, I had no capital by which I could do this. I
took a few of my friends into the secret, however, and they suggested
that we should quietly and secretly work our own little deposit, and
that in this way we should earn the money which would enable us to buy
the neighboring fields. This we have now been doing for some time, and
in order to help us in our operations we erected an hydraulic press.
This press, as I have already explained, has got out of order, and we
wish your advice upon the subject. We guard our secret very jealously,
however, and if it once became known that we had hydraulic engineers
coming to our little house, it would soon rouse inquiry, and then, if
the facts came out, it would be good-bye to any chance of getting these
fields and carrying out our plans. That is why I have made you promise
me that you will not tell a human being that you are going to Eyford
to-night. I hope that I make it all plain?’
“‘I quite follow you,’ said I. ‘The only point which I could not
quite understand, was what use you could make of an hydraulic press
in excavating fuller’s-earth, which, as I understand, is dug out like
gravel from a pit.’
“‘Ah!’ said he, carelessly, ‘we have our own process. We compress
the earth into bricks, so as to remove them without revealing what
they are. But that is a mere detail. I have taken you fully into my
confidence now, Mr. Hatherley, and I have shown you how I trust you.’
He rose as he spoke. ‘I shall expect you, then, at Eyford at 11.15.’
“‘I shall certainly be there.’
“‘And not a word to a soul.’ He looked at me with a last, long,
questioning gaze, and then, pressing my hand in a cold, dank grasp, he
hurried from the room.
“Well, when I came to think it all over in cool blood I was very much
astonished, as you may both think, at this sudden commission which had
been intrusted to me. On the one hand, of course, I was glad, for the
fee was at least tenfold what I should have asked had I set a price
upon my own services, and it was possible that this order might lead
to other ones. On the other hand, the face and manner of my patron
had made an unpleasant impression upon me, and I could not think that
his explanation of the fuller’s-earth was sufficient to explain the
necessity for my coming at midnight, and his extreme anxiety lest I
should tell any one of my errand. However, I threw all fears to the
winds, ate a hearty supper, drove to Paddington, and started off,
having obeyed to the letter the injunction as to holding my tongue.
[Illustration: “‘NOT A WORD TO A SOUL’”]
“At Reading I had to change not only my carriage, but my station.
However, I was in time for the last train to Eyford, and I reached the
little dim-lit station after eleven o’clock. I was the only passenger
who got out there, and there was no one upon the platform save a single
sleepy porter with a lantern. As I passed out through the wicket gate,
however, I found my acquaintance of the morning waiting in the shadow
upon the other side. Without a word he grasped my arm and hurried me
into a carriage, the door of which was standing open. He drew up the
windows on either side, tapped on the wood-work, and away we went as
fast as the horse could go.”
“One horse?” interjected Holmes.
“Yes, only one.”
“Did you observe the color?”
“Yes, I saw it by the side-lights when I was stepping into the
carriage. It was a chestnut.”
“Tired-looking or fresh?”
“Oh, fresh and glossy.”
“Thank you. I am sorry to have interrupted you. Pray continue your most
interesting statement.”
“Away we went then, and we drove for at least an hour. Colonel Lysander
Stark had said that it was only seven miles, but I should think, from
the rate that we seemed to go, and from the time that we took, that
it must have been nearer twelve. He sat at my side in silence all the
time, and I was aware, more than once when I glanced in his direction,
that he was looking at me with great intensity. The country roads seem
to be not very good in that part of the world, for we lurched and
jolted terribly. I tried to look out of the windows to see something of
where we were, but they were made of frosted glass, and I could make
out nothing save the occasional bright blur of a passing light. Now
and then I hazarded some remark to break the monotony of the journey,
but the colonel answered only in monosyllables, and the conversation
soon flagged. At last, however, the bumping of the road was exchanged
for the crisp smoothness of a gravel-drive, and the carriage came to
a stand. Colonel Lysander Stark sprang out, and, as I followed after
him, pulled me swiftly into a porch which gaped in front of us. We
stepped, as it were, right out of the carriage and into the hall, so
that I failed to catch the most fleeting glance of the front of the
house. The instant that I had crossed the threshold the door slammed
heavily behind us, and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the
carriage drove away.
“It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled about
looking for matches, and muttering under his breath. Suddenly a door
opened at the other end of the passage, and a long, golden bar of light
shot out in our direction. It grew broader, and a woman appeared with
a lamp in her hand, which she held above her head, pushing her face
forward and peering at us. I could see that she was pretty, and from
the gloss with which the light shone upon her dark dress I knew that
it was a rich material. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a
tone as though asking a question, and when my companion answered in a
gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly fell from
her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered something in her ear,
and then, pushing her back into the room from whence she had come, he
walked towards me again with the lamp in his hand.
“‘Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a few
minutes,’ said he, throwing open another door. It was a quiet, little,
plainly-furnished room, with a round table in the centre, on which
several German books were scattered. Colonel Stark laid down the lamp
on the top of a harmonium beside the door. ‘I shall not keep you
waiting an instant,’ said he, and vanished into the darkness.
“I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my ignorance
of German I could see that two of them were treatises on science, the
others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked across to the window,
hoping that I might catch some glimpse of the country-side, but an oak
shutter, heavily barred, was folded across it. It was a wonderfully
silent house. There was an old clock ticking loudly somewhere in the
passage, but otherwise everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of
uneasiness began to steal over me. Who were these German people, and
what were they doing, living in this strange, out-of-the-way place?
And where was the place? I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was
all I knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I had no idea.
For that matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns, were within
that radius, so the place might not be so secluded, after all. Yet it
was quite certain, from the absolute stillness, that we were in the
country. I paced up and down the room, humming a tune under my breath
to keep up my spirits, and feeling that I was thoroughly earning my
fifty-guinea fee.
“Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the utter
stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman was
standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind her, the
yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and beautiful face. I
could see at a glance that she was sick with fear, and the sight sent a
chill to my own heart. She held up one shaking finger to warn me to be
silent, and she shot a few whispered words of broken English at me, her
eyes glancing back, like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom
behind her.
“‘I would go,’ said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to speak
calmly; ‘I would go. I should not stay here. There is no good for you
to do.’
“‘But, madam,’ said I, ‘I have not yet done what I came for. I cannot
possibly leave until I have seen the machine.’