in half-humorous resignation.
"No good, my dear Watson. This, the best and only final
clue, has run to nothing. But, indeed, I have little doubt
that we can build up a sufficient case without it. By
Jove! my dear fellow, it is nearly nine, and the landlady
babbled of green peas at seven-thirty. What with your
eternal tobacco, Watson, and your irregularity at meals,
I expect that you will get notice to quit and that I shall
share your downfall -- not, however, before we have solved
the problem of the nervous tutor, the careless servant, and
the three enterprising students."
Holmes made no further allusion to the matter that day,
though he sat lost in thought for a long time after our
belated dinner. At eight in the morning he came into my
room just as I finished my toilet.
"Well, Watson," said he, "it is time we went down to St. Luke's.
Can you do without breakfast?"
"Certainly."
"Soames will be in a dreadful fidget until we are able to
tell him something positive."
"Have you anything positive to tell him?"
"I think so."
"You have formed a conclusion?"
"Yes, my dear Watson; I have solved the mystery."
"But what fresh evidence could you have got?"
"Aha! It is not for nothing that I have turned myself out
of bed at the untimely hour of six. I have put in two
hours' hard work and covered at least five miles, with
something to show for it. Look at that!"
He held out his hand. On the palm were three little
pyramids of black, doughy clay.
"Why, Holmes, you had only two yesterday!"
"And one more this morning. It is a fair argument that
wherever No. 3 came from is also the source of Nos. 1 and 2.
Eh, Watson? Well, come along and put friend Soames out
of his pain."
The unfortunate tutor was certainly in a state of pitiable
agitation when we found him in his chambers. In a few
hours the examinations would commence, and he was still in
the dilemma between making the facts public and allowing
the culprit to compete for the valuable scholarship.
He could hardly stand still, so great was his mental
agitation, and he ran towards Holmes with two eager hands
outstretched.
"Thank Heaven that you have come! I feared that you had
given it up in despair. What am I to do? Shall the
examination proceed?"
"Yes; let it proceed by all means."
"But this rascal ----?"
"He shall not compete."
"You know him?"
"I think so. If this matter is not to become public we
must give ourselves certain powers, and resolve ourselves
into a small private court-martial. You there, if you
please, Soames! Watson, you here! I'll take the arm-chair
in the middle. I think that we are now sufficiently
imposing to strike terror into a guilty breast. Kindly
ring the bell!"
Bannister entered, and shrunk back in evident surprise and
fear at our judicial appearance.
"You will kindly close the door," said Holmes.
"Now, Bannister, will you please tell us the truth about
yesterday's incident?"
The man turned white to the roots of his hair.
"I have told you everything, sir."
"Nothing to add?"
"Nothing at all, sir."
"Well, then, I must make some suggestions to you. When you
sat down on that chair yesterday, did you do so in order to
conceal some object which would have shown who had been in
the room?"
Bannister's face was ghastly.
"No, sir; certainly not."
"It is only a suggestion," said Holmes, suavely.
"I frankly admit that I am unable to prove it. But it seems
probable enough, since the moment that Mr. Soames's back
was turned you released the man who was hiding in that
bedroom."
Bannister licked his dry lips.
"There was no man, sir."
"Ah, that's a pity, Bannister. Up to now you may have
spoken the truth, but now I know that you have lied."
The man's face set in sullen defiance.
"There was no man, sir."
"Come, come, Bannister!"
"No, sir; there was no one."
"In that case you can give us no further information.
Would you please remain in the room? Stand over there near
the bedroom door. Now, Soames, I am going to ask you to
have the great kindness to go up to the room of young
Gilchrist, and to ask him to step down into yours."
An instant later the tutor returned, bringing with him the
student. He was a fine figure of a man, tall, lithe, and
agile, with a springy step and a pleasant, open face.
His troubled blue eyes glanced at each of us, and finally
rested with an expression of blank dismay upon Bannister
in the farther corner.
"Just close the door," said Holmes. "Now, Mr. Gilchrist,
we are all quite alone here, and no one need ever know one
word of what passes between us. We can be perfectly frank
with each other. We want to know, Mr. Gilchrist, how you,
an honourable man, ever came to commit such an action as
that of yesterday?"
The unfortunate young man staggered back and cast a look
full of horror and reproach at Bannister.
"No, no, Mr. Gilchrist, sir; I never said a word -- never
one word!" cried the servant.
"No, but you have now," said Holmes. "Now, sir, you must
see that after Bannister's words your position is hopeless,
and that your only chance lies in a frank confession."
For a moment Gilchrist, with upraised hand, tried to
control his writhing features. The next he had thrown
himself on his knees beside the table and, burying his face
in his hands, he had burst into a storm of passionate
sobbing.
"Come, come," said Holmes, kindly; "it is human to err, and
at least no one can accuse you of being a callous criminal.
Perhaps it would be easier for you if I were to tell Mr.
Soames what occurred, and you can check me where I am
wrong. Shall I do so? Well, well, don't trouble to
answer. Listen, and see that I do you no injustice.
"From the moment, Mr. Soames, that you said to me that no
one, not even Bannister, could have told that the papers
were in your room, the case began to take a definite shape
in my mind. The printer one could, of course, dismiss.
He could examine the papers in his own office. The Indian I
also thought nothing of. If the proofs were in a roll he
could not possibly know what they were. On the other hand,
it seemed an unthinkable coincidence that a man should dare
to enter the room, and that by chance on that very day the
papers were on the table. I dismissed that. The man who
entered knew that the papers were there. How did he know?
"When I approached your room I examined the window.
You amused me by supposing that I was contemplating the
&nbs
p; possibility of someone having in broad daylight, under the
eyes of all these opposite rooms, forced himself through
it. Such an idea was absurd. I was measuring how tall a
man would need to be in order to see as he passed what
papers were on the central table. I am six feet high, and
I could do it with an effort. No one less than that would
have a chance. Already you see I had reason to think that
if one of your three students was a man of unusual height
he was the most worth watching of the three.
"I entered and I took you into my confidence as to the
suggestions of the side table. Of the centre table I could
make nothing, until in your description of Gilchrist you
mentioned that he was a long-distance jumper. Then the
whole thing came to me in an instant, and I only needed
certain corroborative proofs, which I speedily obtained.
"What happened was this. This young fellow had employed
his afternoon at the athletic grounds, where he had been
practising the jump. He returned carrying his jumping
shoes, which are provided, as you are aware, with several
sharp spikes. As he passed your window he saw, by means
of his great height, these proofs upon your table, and
conjectured what they were. No harm would have been done
had it not been that as he passed your door he perceived
the key which had been left by the carelessness of your
servant. A sudden impulse came over him to enter and see
if they were indeed the proofs. It was not a dangerous
exploit, for he could always pretend that he had simply
looked in to ask a question.
"Well, when he saw that they were indeed the proofs, it was
then that he yielded to temptation. He put his shoes on
the table. What was it you put on that chair near the window?"
"Gloves," said the young man.
Holmes looked triumphantly at Bannister. "He put his
gloves on the chair, and he took the proofs, sheet by
sheet, to copy them. He thought the tutor must return by
the main gate, and that he would see him. As we know, he
came back by the side gate. Suddenly he heard him at the
very door. There was no possible escape. He forgot his
gloves, but he caught up his shoes and darted into the
bedroom. You observe that the scratch on that table is
slight at one side, but deepens in the direction of the
bedroom door. That in itself is enough to show us that the
shoe had been drawn in that direction and that the culprit
had taken refuge there. The earth round the spike had been
left on the table, and a second sample was loosened and
fell in the bedroom. I may add that I walked out to the
athletic grounds this morning, saw that tenacious black
clay is used in the jumping-pit, and carried away a
specimen of it, together with some of the fine tan or
sawdust which is strewn over it to prevent the athlete from
slipping. Have I told the truth, Mr. Gilchrist?"
The student had drawn himself erect.
"Yes, sir, it is true," said he.
"Good heavens, have you nothing to add?" cried Soames.
"Yes, sir, I have, but the shock of this disgraceful
exposure has bewildered me. I have a letter here, Mr.
Soames, which I wrote to you early this morning in the
middle of a restless night. It was before I knew that my
sin had found me out. Here it is, sir. You will see that
I have said, 'I have determined not to go in for the
examination. I have been offered a commission in the
Rhodesian Police, and I am going out to South Africa at
once."' {2}
"I am indeed pleased to hear that you did not intend to
profit by your unfair advantage," said Soames. "But why
did you change your purpose?"
Gilchrist pointed to Bannister.
"There is the man who set me in the right path," said he.
"Come now, Bannister," said Holmes. "It will be clear to
you from what I have said that only you could have let this
young man out, since you were left in the room, and must
have locked the door when you went out. As to his escaping
by that window, it was incredible. Can you not clear up
the last point in this mystery, and tell us the reasons for
your action?"
"It was simple enough, sir, if you only had known; but with
all your cleverness it was impossible that you could know.
Time was, sir, when I was butler to old Sir Jabez
Gilchrist, this young gentleman's father. When he was
ruined I came to the college as servant, but I never forgot
my old employer because he was down in the world. I
watched his son all I could for the sake of the old days.
Well, sir, when I came into this room yesterday when the
alarm was given, the very first thing I saw was Mr.
Gilchrist's tan gloves a-lying in that chair. I knew those
gloves well, and I understood their message. If Mr. Soames
saw them the game was up. I flopped down into that chair,
and nothing would budge me until Mr. Soames he went for
you. Then out came my poor young master, whom I had
dandled on my knee, and confessed it all to me. Wasn't it
natural, sir, that I should save him, and wasn't it natural
also that I should try to speak to him as his dead father
would have done, and make him understand that he could not
profit by such a deed? Could you blame me, sir?"
"No, indeed," said Holmes, heartily, springing to his feet.
"Well, Soames, I think we have cleared your little problem
up, and our breakfast awaits us at home. Come, Watson! As
to you, sir, I trust that a bright future awaits you in
Rhodesia. For once you have fallen low. Let us see in the
future how high you can rise."
{--------------------------------------------------------}
{----------------------- End of Text --------------------}
{--------------------------------------------------------}
{---------------------- Textual Notes -------------------}
{1} {"mediaeval": the a & e are ligatured}
{2} {"...at once"'": the single- and double-quotes are}
{reversed in the text}
{------------------ End of Textual Notes ----------------}
{--------------------------------------------------------}
{GOLD, Rev 4, 1/17/96 rms, 4th proofing}
{The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez, Arthur Conan Doyle}
{Source: The Strand Magazine, 28 (July 1904)}
{Etext prepared by Roger Squires
[email protected]}
{Braces({}) in the text indicate textual end-notes}
{Underscores (_) in the text indicate italics}
X. -- The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez.
WHEN I look at the three massive manuscript volumes which
contain our work for the year 1894 I confess that it is very
difficult for me, out of such a wealth of material, to
select the cases which are most interesting in themselves
and at the same time most conducive to a display of those
peculiar powers for which my friend was famous. As I turn
over the pages I see my notes upon the repulsive story of
the red leech and the terrible death of Crosby the banker.
Here also I find an account of the Addleton tragedy and the
singular contents of the ancient British barrow. The famous
Smith-Mortimer succession case comes also within this
period, and so does the tracking and arrest of Huret, the
Boulevard assassin -- an exploit which won for Holmes an
autograph letter of thanks from the French President and the
Order of the Legion of Honour. Each of these would furnish
a narrative, but on the whole I am of opinion that none of
them unite so many singular points of interest as the
episode of Yoxley Old Place, which includes not only the
lamentable death of young Willoughby Smith, but also those
subsequent developments which threw so curious a light upon
the causes of the crime.
It was a wild, tempestuous night towards the close of
November. Holmes and I sat together in silence all the
evening, he engaged with a powerful lens deciphering the
remains of the original inscription upon a palimpsest, I
deep in a recent treatise upon surgery. Outside the wind
howled down Baker Street, while the rain beat fiercely
against the windows. It was strange there in the very
depths of the town, with ten miles of man's handiwork on
every side of us, to feel the iron grip of Nature, and to be
conscious that to the huge elemental forces all London was
no more than the molehills that dot the fields. I walked
to the window and looked out on the deserted street. The
occasional lamps gleamed on the expanse of muddy road and
shining pavement. A single cab was splashing its way from
the Oxford Street end.
"Well, Watson, it's as well we have not to turn out
to-night," said Holmes, laying aside his lens and rolling up
the palimpsest. "I've done enough for one sitting. It is
trying work for the eyes. So far as I can make out it is
nothing more exciting than an Abbey's accounts dating from
the second half of the fifteenth century. Halloa! halloa!
halloa! What's this?"
Amid the droning of the wind there had come the stamping of
a horse's hoofs and the long grind of a wheel as it rasped
against the kerb. The cab which I had seen had pulled up at
our door.
"What can he want?" I ejaculated, as a man stepped out of it.
"Want! He wants us. And we, my poor Watson, want overcoats
and cravats and goloshes, and every aid that man ever
invented to fight the weather. Wait a bit, though! There's
the cab off again! There's hope yet. He'd have kept it if
he had wanted us to come. Run down, my dear fellow, and
open the door, for all virtuous folk have been long in bed."
When the light of the hall lamp fell upon our midnight
visitor I had no difficulty in recognising him. It was
young Stanley Hopkins, a promising detective, in whose
career Holmes had several times shown a very practical
interest.
"Is he in?" he asked, eagerly.
"Come up, my dear sir," said Holmes's voice from above.
"I hope you have no designs upon us on such a night as this."
The detective mounted the stairs, and our lamp gleamed upon
his shining waterproof. I helped him out of it while Holmes
knocked a blaze out of the logs in the grate.
"Now, my dear Hopkins, draw up and warm your toes," said he.
"Here's a cigar, and the doctor has a prescription
containing hot water and a lemon which is good medicine on a
night like this. It must be something important which has
brought you out in such a gale."
"It is indeed, Mr. Holmes. I've had a bustling afternoon,
I promise you. Did you see anything of the Yoxley case in the
latest editions?"
"I've seen nothing later than the fifteenth century to-day."
"Well, it was only a paragraph, and all wrong at that, so
you have not missed anything. I haven't let the grass grow