that in some way I could coax my companion back into thequiet which had been the object of our journey; but one glance at hisintense face and contracted eyebrows told me how vain was now theexpectation. He sat for some little time in silence, absorbed in thestrange drama which had broken in upon our peace.
"I will look into this matter," he said at last. "On the face of it,it would appear to be a case of a very exceptional nature. Have youbeen there yourself, Mr. Roundhay?"
"No, Mr. Holmes. Mr. Tregennis brought back the account to thevicarage, and I at once hurried over with him to consult you."
"How far is it to the house where this singular tragedy occurred?"
"About a mile inland."
"Then we shall walk over together. But before we start I must ask youa few questions, Mr. Mortimer Tregennis."
The other had been silent all this time, but I had observed that hismore controlled excitement was even greater than the obtrusive emotionof the clergyman. He sat with a pale, drawn face, his anxious gazefixed upon Holmes, and his thin hands clasped convulsively together.His pale lips quivered as he listened to the dreadful experience whichhad befallen his family, and his dark eyes seemed to reflect somethingof the horror of the scene.
"Ask what you like, Mr. Holmes," said he eagerly. "It is a bad thingto speak of, but I will answer you the truth."
"Tell me about last night."
"Well, Mr. Holmes, I supped there, as the vicar has said, and my elderbrother George proposed a game of whist afterwards. We sat down aboutnine o'clock. It was a quarter-past ten when I moved to go. I leftthem all round the table, as merry as could be."
"Who let you out?"
"Mrs. Porter had gone to bed, so I let myself out. I shut the halldoor behind me. The window of the room in which they sat was closed,but the blind was not drawn down. There was no change in door orwindow this morning, or any reason to think that any stranger had beento the house. Yet there they sat, driven clean mad with terror, andBrenda lying dead of fright, with her head hanging over the arm of thechair. I'll never get the sight of that room out of my mind so long asI live."
"The facts, as you state them, are certainly most remarkable," saidHolmes. "I take it that you have no theory yourself which can in anyway account for them?"
"It's devilish, Mr. Holmes, devilish!" cried Mortimer Tregennis. "It isnot of this world. Something has come into that room which has dashedthe light of reason from their minds. What human contrivance could dothat?"
"I fear," said Holmes, "that if the matter is beyond humanity it iscertainly beyond me. Yet we must exhaust all natural explanationsbefore we fall back upon such a theory as this. As to yourself, Mr.Tregennis, I take it you were divided in some way from your family,since they lived together and you had rooms apart?"
"That is so, Mr. Holmes, though the matter is past and done with. Wewere a family of tin-miners at Redruth, but we sold our venture to acompany, and so retired with enough to keep us. I won't deny thatthere was some feeling about the division of the money and it stoodbetween us for a time, but it was all forgiven and forgotten, and wewere the best of friends together."
"Looking back at the evening which you spent together, does anythingstand out in your memory as throwing any possible light upon thetragedy? Think carefully, Mr. Tregennis, for any clue which can helpme."
"There is nothing at all, sir."
"Your people were in their usual spirits?"
"Never better."
"Were they nervous people? Did they ever show any apprehension ofcoming danger?"
"Nothing of the kind."
"You have nothing to add then, which could assist me?"
Mortimer Tregennis considered earnestly for a moment.
"There is one thing occurs to me," said he at last. "As we sat at thetable my back was to the window, and my brother George, he being mypartner at cards, was facing it. I saw him once look hard over myshoulder, so I turned round and looked also. The blind was up and thewindow shut, but I could just make out the bushes on the lawn, and itseemed to me for a moment that I saw something moving among them. Icouldn't even say if it was man or animal, but I just thought there wassomething there. When I asked him what he was looking at, he told methat he had the same feeling. That is all that I can say."
"Did you not investigate?"
"No; the matter passed as unimportant."
"You left them, then, without any premonition of evil?"
"None at all."
"I am not clear how you came to hear the news so early this morning."
"I am an early riser and generally take a walk before breakfast. Thismorning I had hardly started when the doctor in his carriage overtookme. He told me that old Mrs. Porter had sent a boy down with an urgentmessage. I sprang in beside him and we drove on. When we got there welooked into that dreadful room. The candles and the fire must haveburned out hours before, and they had been sitting there in the darkuntil dawn had broken. The doctor said Brenda must have been dead atleast six hours. There were no signs of violence. She just lay acrossthe arm of the chair with that look on her face. George and Owen weresinging snatches of songs and gibbering like two great apes. Oh, itwas awful to see! I couldn't stand it, and the doctor was as white asa sheet. Indeed, he fell into a chair in a sort of faint, and wenearly had him on our hands as well."
"Remarkable--most remarkable!" said Holmes, rising and taking his hat."I think, perhaps, we had better go down to Tredannick Wartha withoutfurther delay. I confess that I have seldom known a case which atfirst sight presented a more singular problem."
Our proceedings of that first morning did little to advance theinvestigation. It was marked, however, at the outset by an incidentwhich left the most sinister impression upon my mind. The approach tothe spot at which the tragedy occurred is down a narrow, winding,country lane. While we made our way along it we heard the rattle of acarriage coming towards us and stood aside to let it pass. As it droveby us I caught a glimpse through the closed window of a horriblycontorted, grinning face glaring out at us. Those staring eyes andgnashing teeth flashed past us like a dreadful vision.
"My brothers!" cried Mortimer Tregennis, white to his lips. "They aretaking them to Helston."
We looked with horror after the black carriage, lumbering upon its way.Then we turned our steps towards this ill-omened house in which theyhad met their strange fate.
It was a large and bright dwelling, rather a villa than a cottage, witha considerable garden which was already, in that Cornish air, wellfilled with spring flowers. Towards this garden the window of thesitting-room fronted, and from it, according to Mortimer Tregennis,must have come that thing of evil which had by sheer horror in a singleinstant blasted their minds. Holmes walked slowly and thoughtfullyamong the flower-plots and along the path before we entered the porch.So absorbed was he in his thoughts, I remember, that he stumbled overthe watering-pot, upset its contents, and deluged both our feet and thegarden path. Inside the house we were met by the elderly Cornishhousekeeper, Mrs. Porter, who, with the aid of a young girl, lookedafter the wants of the family. She readily answered all Holmes'squestions. She had heard nothing in the night. Her employers had allbeen in excellent spirits lately, and she had never known them morecheerful and prosperous. She had fainted with horror upon entering theroom in the morning and seeing that dreadful company round the table.She had, when she recovered, thrown open the window to let the morningair in, and had run down to the lane, whence she sent a farm-lad forthe doctor. The lady was on her bed upstairs if we cared to see her.It took four strong men to get the brothers into the asylum carriage.She would not herself stay in the house another day and was startingthat very afternoon to rejoin her family at St. Ives.
We ascended the stairs and viewed the body. Miss Brenda Tregennis hadbeen a very beautiful girl, though now verging upon middle age. Herdark, clear-cut face was handsome, even in death, but there stilllingered upon it something of that convulsion of horror which had beenher last human emotion.
From her bedroom we descended to thesitting-room, where this strange tragedy had actually occurred. Thecharred ashes of the overnight fire lay in the grate. On the tablewere the four guttered and burned-out candles, with the cards scatteredover its surface. The chairs had been moved back against the walls,but all else was as it had been the night before. Holmes paced withlight, swift steps about the room; he sat in the various chairs,drawing them up and reconstructing their positions. He tested how muchof the garden was visible; he examined the floor, the ceiling, and thefireplace; but never once did I see that sudden brightening of his eyesand tightening of his lips which would have told me that he saw somegleam of light in this utter darkness.
"Why a fire?" he