adjectives were very vigorous. He ended a string of abuse

  by a vicious back-hander which I failed to entirely avoid.

  The next few minutes were delicious. It was a straight

  left against a slogging ruffian. I emerged as you see me.

  Mr. Woodley went home in a cart. So ended my country trip,

  and it must be confessed that, however enjoyable, my day on

  the Surrey border has not been much more profitable than

  your own."

  The Thursday brought us another letter from our client.

  "You will not be surprised, Mr. Holmes," said she, "to hear

  that I am leaving Mr. Carruthers's employment. Even the

  high pay cannot reconcile me to the discomforts of my

  situation. On Saturday I come up to town and I do not

  intend to return. Mr. Carruthers has got a trap, and so

  the dangers of the lonely road, if there ever were any

  dangers, are now over.

  "As to the special cause of my leaving, it is not merely

  the strained situation with Mr. Carruthers, but it is the

  reappearance of that odious man, Mr. Woodley. He was

  always hideous, but he looks more awful than ever now,

  for he appears to have had an accident and he is much

  disfigured. I saw him out of the window, but I am glad

  to say I did not meet him. He had a long talk with Mr.

  Carruthers, who seemed much excited afterwards. Woodley

  must be staying in the neighbourhood, for he did not sleep

  here, and yet I caught a glimpse of him again this morning

  slinking about in the shrubbery. I would sooner have a

  savage wild animal loose about the place. I loathe and

  fear him more than I can say. How _can_ Mr. Carruthers

  endure such a creature for a moment? However, all my

  troubles will be over on Saturday."

  "So I trust, Watson; so I trust," said Holmes, gravely.

  "There is some deep intrigue going on round that little

  woman, and it is our duty to see that no one molests her

  upon that last journey. I think, Watson, that we must

  spare time to run down together on Saturday morning, and

  make sure that this curious and inconclusive investigation

  has no untoward ending."

  I confess that I had not up to now taken a very serious

  view of the case, which had seemed to me rather grotesque

  and bizarre than dangerous. That a man should lie in wait

  for and follow a very handsome woman is no unheard-of

  thing, and if he had so little audacity that he not only

  dared not address her, but even fled from her approach, he

  was not a very formidable assailant. The ruffian Woodley

  was a very different person, but, except on one occasion,

  he had not molested our client, and now he visited the

  house of Carruthers without intruding upon her presence.

  The man on the bicycle was doubtless a member of those

  week-end parties at the Hall of which the publican had

  spoken; but who he was or what he wanted was as obscure as

  ever. It was the severity of Holmes's manner and the fact

  that he slipped a revolver into his pocket before leaving

  our rooms which impressed me with the feeling that tragedy

  might prove to lurk behind this curious train of events.

  A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and

  the heath-covered country-side with the glowing clumps of

  flowering gorse seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which

  were weary of the duns and drabs and slate-greys of London.

  Holmes and I walked along the broad, sandy road inhaling

  the fresh morning air, and rejoicing in the music of the

  birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of

  the road on the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill we could see

  the grim Hall bristling out from amidst the ancient oaks,

  which, old as they were, were still younger than the

  building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down the

  long tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band,

  between the brown of the heath and the budding green of

  the woods. Far away, a black dot, we could see a vehicle

  moving in our direction. Holmes gave an exclamation of

  impatience.

  "I had given a margin of half an hour," said he.

  "If that is her trap she must be making for the earlier train.

  I fear, Watson, that she will be past Charlington before we

  can possibly meet her."

  From the instant that we passed the rise we could no longer

  see the vehicle, but we hastened onwards at such a pace

  that my sedentary life began to tell upon me, and I was

  compelled to fall behind. Holmes, however, was always in

  training, for he had inexhaustible stores of nervous energy

  upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed until

  suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he

  halted, and I saw him throw up his hand with a gesture of

  grief and despair. At the same instant an empty dog-cart,

  the horse cantering, the reins trailing, appeared round

  the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us.

  "Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran

  panting to his side. "Fool that I was not to allow for

  that earlier train! It's abduction, Watson -- abduction!

  Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road! Stop the

  horse! That's right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I

  can repair the consequences of my own blunder."

  We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning

  the horse, gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew

  back along the road. As we turned the curve the whole

  stretch of road between the Hall and the heath was opened up.

  I grasped Holmes's arm.

  "That's the man!" I gasped.

  A solitary cyclist was coming towards us. His head was

  down and his shoulders rounded as he put every ounce of

  energy that he possessed on to the pedals. He was flying

  like a racer. Suddenly he raised his bearded face, saw us

  close to him, and pulled up, springing from his machine.

  That coal-black beard was in singular contrast to the

  pallor of his face, and his eyes were as bright as if

  he had a fever. He stared at us and at the dog-cart.

  Then a look of amazement came over his face.

  "Halloa! Stop there!" he shouted, holding his bicycle to

  block our road. "Where did you get that dog-cart? Pull

  up, man!" he yelled, drawing a pistol from his side pocket.

  "Pull up, I say, or, by George, I'll put a bullet into your

  horse."

  Holmes threw the reins into my lap and sprang down from the

  cart.

  "You're the man we want to see. Where is Miss Violet

  Smith?" he said, in his quick, clear way.

  "That's what I am asking you. You're in her dog-cart.

  You ought to know where she is."

  "We met the dog-cart on the road. There was no one in it.

  We drove back to help the young lady."

  "Good Lord! Good Lord! what shall I do?" cried the

  stranger, in an ecstasy of despair. "They've got her, that

  hellhound Woodley and the blackguard parson. Come, man,

>   come, if you really are her friend. Stand by me and we'll

  save her, if I have to leave my carcass in Charlington Wood."

  He ran distractedly, his pistol in his hand, towards a gap

  in the hedge. Holmes followed him, and I, leaving the

  horse grazing beside the road, followed Holmes.

  "This is where they came through," said he, pointing to the

  marks of several feet upon the muddy path. "Halloa! Stop

  a minute! Who's this in the bush?"

  It was a young fellow about seventeen, dressed like an

  ostler, with leather cords and gaiters. He lay upon his

  back, his knees drawn up, a terrible cut upon his head.

  He was insensible, but alive. A glance at his wound told

  me that it had not penetrated the bone.

  "That's Peter, the groom," cried the stranger. "He drove

  her. The beasts have pulled him off and clubbed him. Let

  him lie; we can't do him any good, but we may save her from

  the worst fate that can befall a woman."

  We ran frantically down the path, which wound among the

  trees. We had reached the shrubbery which surrounded the

  house when Holmes pulled up.

  "They didn't go to the house. Here are their marks on the

  left -- here, beside the laurel bushes! Ah, I said so!"

  As he spoke a woman's shrill scream -- a scream which

  vibrated with a frenzy of horror -- burst from the thick

  green clump of bushes in front of us. It ended suddenly on

  its highest note with a choke and a gurgle.

  "This way! This way! They are in the bowling alley,"

  cried the stranger, darting through the bushes. "Ah, the

  cowardly dogs! Follow me, gentlemen! Too late! too late!

  by the living Jingo!"

  We had broken suddenly into a lovely glade of greensward

  surrounded by ancient trees. On the farther side of it,

  under the shadow of a mighty oak, there stood a singular

  group of three people. One was a woman, our client,

  drooping and faint, a handkerchief round her mouth.

  Opposite her stood a brutal, heavy-faced, red-moustached

  young man, his gaitered legs parted wide, one arm akimbo,

  the other waving a riding-crop, his whole attitude

  suggestive of triumphant bravado. Between them an elderly,

  grey-bearded man, wearing a short surplice over a light

  tweed suit, had evidently just completed the wedding

  service, for he pocketed his prayer-book as we appeared and

  slapped the sinister bridegroom upon the back in jovial

  congratulation.

  "They're married!" I gasped.

  "Come on!" cried our guide; "come on!" He rushed across

  the glade, Holmes and I at his heels. As we approached,

  the lady staggered against the trunk of the tree for

  support. Williamson, the ex-clergyman, bowed to us with

  mock politeness, and the bully Woodley advanced with a

  shout of brutal and exultant laughter.

  "You can take your beard off, Bob," said he. "I know you

  right enough. Well, you and your pals have just come in

  time for me to be able to introduce you to Mrs. Woodley."

  Our guide's answer was a singular one. He snatched off the

  dark beard which had disguised him and threw it on the

  ground, disclosing a long, sallow, clean-shaven face below

  it. Then he raised his revolver and covered the young

  ruffian, who was advancing upon him with his dangerous

  riding-crop swinging in his hand.

  "Yes," said our ally, "I _am_ Bob Carruthers, and I'll see

  this woman righted if I have to swing for it. I told you

  what I'd do if you molested her, and, by the Lord, I'll be

  as good as my word!"

  "You're too late. She's my wife!"

  "No, she's your widow."

  His revolver cracked, and I saw the blood spurt from the

  front of Woodley's waistcoat. He spun round with a scream

  and fell upon his back, his hideous red face turning

  suddenly to a dreadful mottled pallor. The old man, still

  clad in his surplice, burst into such a string of foul

  oaths as I have never heard, and pulled out a revolver of

  his own, but before he could raise it he was looking down

  the barrel of Holmes's weapon.

  "Enough of this," said my friend, coldly. "Drop that

  pistol! Watson, pick it up! Hold it to his head! Thank

  you. You, Carruthers, give me that revolver. We'll have

  no more violence. Come, hand it over!"

  "Who are you, then?"

  "My name is Sherlock Holmes."

  "Good Lord!"

  "You have heard of me, I see. I will represent the

  official police until their arrival. Here, you!" he

  shouted to a frightened groom who had appeared at the edge

  of the glade. "Come here. Take this note as hard as you

  can ride to Farnham." He scribbled a few words upon a leaf

  from his note-book. "Give it to the superintendent at the

  police-station. Until he comes I must detain you all under

  my personal custody."

  The strong, masterful personality of Holmes dominated the

  tragic scene, and all were equally puppets in his hands.

  Williamson and Carruthers found themselves carrying the

  wounded Woodley into the house, and I gave my arm to the

  frightened girl. The injured man was laid on his bed, and

  at Holmes's request I examined him. I carried my report to

  where he sat in the old tapestry-hung dining-room with his

  two prisoners before him.

  "He will live," said I.

  "What!" cried Carruthers, springing out of his chair.

  "I'll go upstairs and finish him first. Do you tell me

  that that girl, that angel, is to be tied to Roaring Jack

  Woodley for life?"

  "You need not concern yourself about that," said Holmes.

  "There are two very good reasons why she should under no

  circumstances be his wife. In the first place, we are very

  safe in questioning Mr. Williamson's right to solemnize a

  marriage."

  "I have been ordained," cried the old rascal.

  "And also unfrocked."

  "Once a clergyman, always a clergyman."

  "I think not. How about the license?"

  "We had a license for the marriage. I have it here in my

  pocket."

  "Then you got it by a trick. But in any case a forced

  marriage is no marriage, but it is a very serious felony,

  as you will discover before you have finished. You'll have

  time to think the point out during the next ten years or

  so, unless I am mistaken. As to you, Carruthers, you would

  have done better to keep your pistol in your pocket."

  "I begin to think so, Mr. Holmes; but when I thought of all

  the precaution I had taken to shield this girl -- for I

  loved her, Mr. Holmes, and it is the only time that ever I

  knew what love was -- it fairly drove me mad to think that

  she was in the power of the greatest brute and bully in

  South Africa, a man whose name is a holy terror from

  Kimberley to Johannesburg. Why, Mr. Holmes, you'll hardly

  believe it, but ever since that girl has been in my

  employment I never once let h
er go past this house, where I

  knew these rascals were lurking, without following her on

  my bicycle just to see that she came to no harm. I kept my

  distance from her, and I wore a beard so that she should

  not recognise me, for she is a good and high-spirited girl,

  and she wouldn't have stayed in my employment long if she

  had thought that I was following her about the country

  roads."

  "Why didn't you tell her of her danger?"

  "Because then, again, she would have left me, and I

  couldn't bear to face that. Even if she couldn't love me

  it was a great deal to me just to see her dainty form about

  the house, and to hear the sound of her voice."

  "Well," said I, "you call that love, Mr. Carruthers, but I

  should call it selfishness."

  "Maybe the two things go together. Anyhow, I couldn't let

  her go. Besides, with this crowd about, it was well that

  she should have someone near to look after her. Then when

  the cable came I knew they were bound to make a move."

  "What cable?"

  Carruthers took a telegram from his pocket.

  "That's it," said he.

  It was short and concise:--

  "The old man is dead."

  "Hum!" said Holmes. "I think I see how things worked, and

  I can understand how this message would, as you say, bring

  them to a head. But while we wait you might tell me what

  you can."

  The old reprobate with the surplice burst into a volley of

  bad language.

  "By Heaven," said he, "if you squeal on us, Bob Carruthers,

  I'll serve you as you served Jack Woodley. You can bleat

  about the girl to your heart's content, for that's your own

  affair, but if you round on your pals to this plain-clothes

  copper it will be the worst day's work that ever you did."

  "Your reverence need not be excited," said Holmes, lighting

  a cigarette. "The case is clear enough against you, and

  all I ask is a few details for my private curiosity.

  However, if there's any difficulty in your telling me I'll

  do the talking, and then you will see how far you have a

  chance of holding back your secrets. In the first place,

  three of you came from South Africa on this game -- you

  Williamson, you Carruthers, and Woodley."

  "Lie number one," said the old man; "I never saw either of

  them until two months ago, and I have never been in Africa

  in my life, so you can put that in your pipe and smoke it,

  Mr. Busybody Holmes!"

  "What he says is true," said Carruthers.

  "Well, well, two of you came over. His reverence is our

  own home-made article. You had known Ralph Smith in South

  Africa. You had reason to believe he would not live long.

  You found out that his niece would inherit his fortune.

  How's that -- eh?"

  Carruthers nodded and Williamson swore.

  "She was next-of-kin, no doubt, and you were aware that the

  old fellow would make no will."

  "Couldn't read or write," said Carruthers.

  "So you came over, the two of you, and hunted up the girl.

  The idea was that one of you was to marry her and the other

  have a share of the plunder. For some reason Woodley was

  chosen as the husband. Why was that?"

  "We played cards for her on the voyage. He won."

  "I see. You got the young lady into your service, and

  there Woodley was to do the courting. She recognised the

  drunken brute that he was, and would have nothing to do

  with him. Meanwhile, your arrangement was rather upset by

  the fact that you had yourself fallen in love with the

  lady. You could no longer bear the idea of this ruffian

  owning her."

  "No, by George, I couldn't!"

  "There was a quarrel between you. He left you in a rage,

  and began to make his own plans independently of you."

  "It strikes me, Williamson, there isn't very much that we

  can tell this gentleman," cried Carruthers, with a bitter

  laugh. "Yes, we quarreled, and he knocked me down. I am

  level with him on that, anyhow. Then I lost sight of him.

  That was when he picked up with this cast padre here.