can say nothing. Mind you, she is a truthful woman, Mr.

  Holmes, and whatever trouble there may have been in her

  past life it has been no fault of hers. I am only a simple

  Norfolk squire, but there is not a man in England who ranks

  his family honour more highly than I do. She knows it

  well, and she knew it well before she married me. She

  would never bring any stain upon it -- of that I am sure.

  "Well, now I come to the queer part of my story. About a

  week ago -- it was the Tuesday of last week -- I found on

  one of the window-sills a number of absurd little dancing

  figures, like these upon the paper. They were scrawled

  with chalk. I thought that it was the stable-boy who had

  drawn them, but the lad swore he knew nothing about it.

  Anyhow, they had come there during the night. I had them

  washed out, and I only mentioned the matter to my wife

  afterwards. To my surprise she took it very seriously, and

  begged me if any more came to let her see them. None did

  come for a week, and then yesterday morning I found this

  paper lying on the sun-dial in the garden. I showed it to

  Elsie, and down she dropped in a dead faint. Since then

  she has looked like a woman in a dream, half dazed, and

  with terror always lurking in her eyes. It was then that I

  wrote and sent the paper to you, Mr. Holmes. It was not a

  thing that I could take to the police, for they would have

  laughed at me, but you will tell me what to do. I am not a

  rich man; but if there is any danger threatening my little

  woman I would spend my last copper to shield her."

  He was a fine creature, this man of the old English soil,

  simple, straight, and gentle, with his great, earnest blue

  eyes and broad, comely face. His love for his wife and his

  trust in her shone in his features. Holmes had listened to

  his story with the utmost attention, and now he sat for

  some time in silent thought.

  "Don't you think, Mr. Cubitt," said he, at last, "that your

  best plan would be to make a direct appeal to your wife,

  and to ask her to share her secret with you?"

  Hilton Cubitt shook his massive head.

  "A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wished to

  tell me she would. If not, it is not for me to force her

  confidence. But I am justified in taking my own line --

  and I will."

  "Then I will help you with all my heart. In the first

  place, have you heard of any strangers being seen in your

  neighbourhood?"

  "No."

  "I presume that it is a very quiet place. Any fresh face

  would cause comment?"

  "In the immediate neighbourhood, yes. But we have several

  small watering-places not very far away. And the farmers

  take in lodgers."

  "These hieroglyphics have evidently a meaning. If it is a

  purely arbitrary one it may be impossible for us to solve

  it. If, on the other hand, it is systematic, I have no

  doubt that we shall get to the bottom of it. But this

  particular sample is so short that I can do nothing, and

  the facts which you have brought me are so indefinite that

  we have no basis for an investigation. I would suggest

  that you return to Norfolk, that you keep a keen look-out,

  and that you take an exact copy of any fresh dancing men

  which may appear. It is a thousand pities that we have not

  a reproduction of those which were done in chalk upon the

  window-sill. Make a discreet inquiry also as to any

  strangers in the neighbourhood. When you have collected

  some fresh evidence come to me again. That is the best

  advice which I can give you, Mr. Hilton Cubitt. If there

  are any pressing fresh developments I shall be always ready

  to run down and see you in your Norfolk home."

  The interview left Sherlock Holmes very thoughtful, and

  several times in the next few days I saw him take his slip

  of paper from his note-book and look long and earnestly at

  the curious figures inscribed upon it. He made no allusion

  to the affair, however, until one afternoon a fortnight or

  so later. I was going out when he called me back.

  "You had better stay here, Watson."

  "Why?"

  "Because I had a wire from Hilton Cubitt this morning --

  you remember Hilton Cubitt, of the dancing men? He was to

  reach Liverpool Street at one-twenty. He may be here at

  any moment. I gather from his wire that there have been

  some new incidents of importance."

  We had not long to wait, for our Norfolk squire came

  straight from the station as fast as a hansom could bring

  him. He was looking worried and depressed, with tired eyes

  and a lined forehead.

  "It's getting on my nerves, this business, Mr. Holmes,"

  said he, as he sank, like a wearied man, into an arm-chair.

  "It's bad enough to feel that you are surrounded by unseen,

  unknown folk, who have some kind of design upon you; but

  when, in addition to that, you know that it is just killing

  your wife by inches, then it becomes as much as flesh and

  blood can endure. She's wearing away under it -- just

  wearing away before my eyes."

  "Has she said anything yet?"

  "No, Mr. Holmes, she has not. And yet there have been

  times when the poor girl has wanted to speak, and yet could

  not quite bring herself to take the plunge. I have tried

  to help her; but I dare say I did it clumsily, and scared

  her off from it. She has spoken about my old family, and

  our reputation in the county, and our pride in our

  unsullied honour, and I always felt it was leading to the

  point; but somehow it turned off before we got there."

  "But you have found out something for yourself?"

  "A good deal, Mr. Holmes. I have several fresh dancing men

  pictures for you to examine, and, what is more important, I

  have seen the fellow."

  "What, the man who draws them?"

  "Yes, I saw him at his work. But I will tell you

  everything in order. When I got back after my visit to

  you, the very first thing I saw next morning was a fresh

  crop of dancing men. They had been drawn in chalk upon the

  black wooden door of the tool-house, which stands beside

  the lawn in full view of the front windows. I took an

  exact copy, and here it is." He unfolded a paper and laid

  it upon the table. Here is a copy of the hieroglyphics:--

  {GRAPHIC}

  "Excellent!" said Holmes. "Excellent! Pray continue."

  "When I had taken the copy I rubbed out the marks; but two

  mornings later a fresh inscription had appeared. I have a

  copy of it here":--

  {GRAPHIC}

  Holmes rubbed his hands and chuckled with delight.

  "Our material is rapidly accumulating," said he.

  "Three days later a message was left scrawled upon paper,

  and placed under a pebble upon the sun-dial. Here it is.

  The characters are, as you see, exactly the same as th
e

  last one. After that I determined to lie in wait; so I got

  out my revolver and I sat up in my study, which overlooks

  the lawn and garden. About two in the morning I was seated

  by the window, all being dark save for the moonlight

  outside, when I heard steps behind me, and there was my

  wife in her dressing-gown. She implored me to come to bed.

  I told her frankly that I wished to see who it was who

  played such absurd tricks upon us. She answered that it

  was some senseless practical joke, and that I should not

  take any notice of it.

  "'If it really annoys you, Hilton, we might go and travel,

  you and I, and so avoid this nuisance.'

  "'What, be driven out of our own house by a practical

  joker?' said I. 'Why, we should have the whole county

  laughing at us.'

  "'Well, come to bed,' said she, 'and we can discuss it in

  the morning.'

  "Suddenly, as she spoke, I saw her white face grow whiter

  yet in the moonlight, and her hand tightened upon my

  shoulder. Something was moving in the shadow of the

  tool-house. I saw a dark, creeping figure which crawled

  round the corner and squatted in front of the door.

  Seizing my pistol I was rushing out, when my wife threw her

  arms round me and held me with convulsive strength. I

  tried to throw her off, but she clung to me most

  desperately. At last I got clear, but by the time I had

  opened the door and reached the house the creature was

  gone. He had left a trace of his presence, however, for

  there on the door was the very same arrangement of dancing

  men which had already twice appeared, and which I have

  copied on that paper. There was no other sign of the

  fellow anywhere, though I ran all over the grounds. And

  yet the amazing thing is that he must have been there all

  the time, for when I examined the door again in the morning

  he had scrawled some more of his pictures under the line

  which I had already seen."

  "Have you that fresh drawing?"

  "Yes; it is very short, but I made a copy of it, and here

  it is."

  Again he produced a paper. The new dance was in this form:--

  {GRAPHIC}

  "Tell me," said Holmes -- and I could see by his eyes that

  he was much excited -- "was this a mere addition to the

  first, or did it appear to be entirely separate?"

  "It was on a different panel of the door."

  "Excellent! This is far the most important of all for our

  purpose. It fills me with hopes. Now, Mr. Hilton Cubitt,

  please continue your most interesting statement."

  "I have nothing more to say, Mr. Holmes, except that I was

  angry with my wife that night for having held me back when

  I might have caught the skulking rascal. She said that she

  feared that I might come to harm. For an instant it had

  crossed my mind that perhaps what she really feared was

  that _he_ might come to harm, for I could not doubt that

  she knew who this man was and what he meant by these

  strange signals. But there is a tone in my wife's voice,

  Mr. Holmes, and a look in her eyes which forbid doubt, and

  I am sure that it was indeed my own safety that was in her

  mind. There's the whole case, and now I want your advice

  as to what I ought to do. My own inclination is to put

  half-a-dozen of my farm lads in the shrubbery, and when

  this fellow comes again to give him such a hiding that he

  will leave us in peace for the future."

  "I fear it is too deep a case for such simple remedies,"

  said Holmes. "How long can you stay in London?"

  "I must go back to-day. I would not leave my wife alone

  all night for anything. She is very nervous and begged me

  to come back."

  "I dare say you are right. But if you could have stopped I

  might possibly have been able to return with you in a day

  or two. Meanwhile you will leave me these papers, and I

  think that it is very likely that I shall be able to pay

  you a visit shortly and to throw some light upon your

  case."

  Sherlock Holmes preserved his calm professional manner

  until our visitor had left us, although it was easy for me,

  who knew him so well, to see that he was profoundly

  excited. The moment that Hilton Cubitt's broad back had

  disappeared through the door my comrade rushed to the

  table, laid out all the slips of paper containing dancing

  men in front of him, and threw himself into an intricate

  and elaborate calculation. For two hours I watched him as

  he covered sheet after sheet of paper with figures and

  letters, so completely absorbed in his task that he had

  evidently forgotten my presence. Sometimes he was making

  progress and whistled and sang at his work; sometimes he

  was puzzled, and would sit for long spells with a furrowed

  brow and a vacant eye. Finally he sprang from his chair

  with a cry of satisfaction, and walked up and down the room

  rubbing his hands together. Then he wrote a long telegram

  upon a cable form. "If my answer to this is as I hope, you

  will have a very pretty case to add to your collection,

  Watson," said he. "I expect that we shall be able to go

  down to Norfolk to-morrow, and to take our friend some very

  definite news as to the secret of his annoyance."

  I confess that I was filled with curiosity, but I was aware

  that Holmes liked to make his disclosures at his own time

  and in his own way; so I waited until it should suit him to

  take me into his confidence.

  But there was a delay in that answering telegram, and two

  days of impatience followed, during which Holmes pricked up

  his ears at every ring of the bell. On the evening of the

  second there came a letter from Hilton Cubitt. All was

  quiet with him, save that a long inscription had appeared

  that morning upon the pedestal of the sun-dial. He

  enclosed a copy of it, which is here reproduced:--

  {GRAPHIC}

  Holmes bent over this grotesque frieze for some minutes,

  and then suddenly sprang to his feet with an exclamation of

  surprise and dismay. His face was haggard with anxiety.

  "We have let this affair go far enough," said he. "Is

  there a train to North Walsham to-night?"

  I turned up the time-table. The last had just gone.

  "Then we shall breakfast early and take the very first in

  the morning," said Holmes. "Our presence is most urgently

  needed. Ah! here is our expected cablegram. One moment,

  Mrs. Hudson; there may be an answer. No, that is quite as

  I expected. This message makes it even more essential that

  we should not lose an hour in letting Hilton Cubitt know

  how matters stand, for it is a singular and a dangerous web

  in which our simple Norfolk squire is entangled."

  So, indeed, it proved, and as I come to the dark conclusion

  of a story which had seemed to me to be only childish and

&
nbsp; bizarre I experience once again the dismay and horror with

  which I was filled. Would that I had some brighter ending

  to communicate to my readers, but these are the chronicles

  of fact, and I must follow to their dark crisis the strange

  chain of events which for some days made Ridling Thorpe

  Manor a household word through the length and breadth of

  England.

  We had hardly alighted at North Walsham, and mentioned the

  name of our destination, when the station-master hurried

  towards us. "I suppose that you are the detectives from

  London?" said he.

  A look of annoyance passed over Holmes's face.

  "What makes you think such a thing?"

  "Because Inspector Martin from Norwich has just passed

  through. But maybe you are the surgeons. She's not dead --

  or wasn't by last accounts. You may be in time to save

  her yet -- though it be for the gallows."

  Holmes's brow was dark with anxiety.

  "We are going to Ridling Thorpe Manor," said he, "but we

  have heard nothing of what has passed there."

  "It's a terrible business," said the station-master. "They

  are shot, both Mr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife. She shot

  him and then herself -- so the servants say. He's dead and

  her life is despaired of. Dear, dear, one of the oldest

  families in the County of Norfolk, and one of the most

  honoured."

  Without a word Holmes hurried to a carriage, and during the

  long seven miles' drive he never opened his mouth. Seldom

  have I seen him so utterly despondent. He had been uneasy

  during all our journey from town, and I had observed that

  he had turned over the morning papers with anxious

  attention; but now this sudden realization of his worst

  fears left him in a blank melancholy. He leaned back in

  his seat, lost in gloomy speculation. Yet there was much

  around us to interest us, for we were passing through as

  singular a country-side as any in England, where a few

  scattered cottages represented the population of to-day,

  while on every hand enormous square-towered churches

  bristled up from the flat, green landscape and told of the

  glory and prosperity of old East Anglia. At last the

  violet rim of the German Ocean appeared over the green edge

  of the Norfolk coast, and the driver pointed with his whip

  to two old brick and timber gables which projected from a

  grove of trees. "That's Ridling Thorpe Manor," said he.

  As we drove up to the porticoed front door I observed in

  front of it, beside the tennis lawn, the black tool-house

  and the pedestalled sun-dial with which we had such strange

  associations. A dapper little man, with a quick, alert

  manner and a waxed moustache, had just descended from a

  high dog-cart. He introduced himself as Inspector Martin,

  of the Norfolk Constabulary, and he was considerably

  astonished when he heard the name of my companion.

  "Why, Mr. Holmes, the crime was only committed at three

  this morning. How could you hear of it in London and get

  to the spot as soon as I?"

  "I anticipated it. I came in the hope of preventing it."

  "Then you must have important evidence of which we are

  ignorant, for they were said to be a most united couple."

  "I have only the evidence of the dancing men," said Holmes.

  "I will explain the matter to you later. Meanwhile, since

  it is too late to prevent this tragedy, I am very anxious

  that I should use the knowledge which I possess in order to

  ensure that justice be done. Will you associate me in your

  investigation, or will you prefer that I should act

  independently?"

  "I should be proud to feel that we were acting together,

  Mr. Holmes," said the inspector, earnestly.

  "In that case I should be glad to hear the evidence and to

  examine the premises without an instant of unnecessary

  delay."

  Inspector Martin had the good sense to allow my friend to

  do things in his own fashion, and contented himself with

  carefully noting the results. The local surgeon, an old,