entered by the window. There was an interview--a short one--duringwhich you walked up and down the room. Then you passed out and closedthe window, standing on the lawn outside smoking a cigar and watchingwhat occurred. Finally, after the death of Tregennis, you withdrew asyou had come. Now, Dr. Sterndale, how do you justify such conduct, andwhat were the motives for your actions? If you prevaricate or triflewith me, I give you my assurance that the matter will pass out of myhands forever."
Our visitor's face had turned ashen gray as he listened to the words ofhis accuser. Now he sat for some time in thought with his face sunk inhis hands. Then with a sudden impulsive gesture he plucked aphotograph from his breast-pocket and threw it on the rustic tablebefore us.
"That is why I have done it," said he.
It showed the bust and face of a very beautiful woman. Holmes stoopedover it.
"Brenda Tregennis," said he.
"Yes, Brenda Tregennis," repeated our visitor. "For years I have lovedher. For years she has loved me. There is the secret of that Cornishseclusion which people have marvelled at. It has brought me close tothe one thing on earth that was dear to me. I could not marry her, forI have a wife who has left me for years and yet whom, by the deplorablelaws of England, I could not divorce. For years Brenda waited. Foryears I waited. And this is what we have waited for." A terrible sobshook his great frame, and he clutched his throat under his brindledbeard. Then with an effort he mastered himself and spoke on:
"The vicar knew. He was in our confidence. He would tell you that shewas an angel upon earth. That was why he telegraphed to me and Ireturned. What was my baggage or Africa to me when I learned that sucha fate had come upon my darling? There you have the missing clue to myaction, Mr. Holmes."
"Proceed," said my friend.
Dr. Sterndale drew from his pocket a paper packet and laid it upon thetable. On the outside was written "Radix pedis diaboli" with a redpoison label beneath it. He pushed it towards me. "I understand thatyou are a doctor, sir. Have you ever heard of this preparation?"
"Devil's-foot root! No, I have never heard of it."
"It is no reflection upon your professional knowledge," said he, "for Ibelieve that, save for one sample in a laboratory at Buda, there is noother specimen in Europe. It has not yet found its way either into thepharmacopoeia or into the literature of toxicology. The root is shapedlike a foot, half human, half goatlike; hence the fanciful name givenby a botanical missionary. It is used as an ordeal poison by themedicine-men in certain districts of West Africa and is kept as asecret among them. This particular specimen I obtained under veryextraordinary circumstances in the Ubangi country." He opened thepaper as he spoke and disclosed a heap of reddish-brown, snuff-likepowder.
"Well, sir?" asked Holmes sternly.
"I am about to tell you, Mr. Holmes, all that actually occurred, foryou already know so much that it is clearly to my interest that youshould know all. I have already explained the relationship in which Istood to the Tregennis family. For the sake of the sister I wasfriendly with the brothers. There was a family quarrel about moneywhich estranged this man Mortimer, but it was supposed to be made up,and I afterwards met him as I did the others. He was a sly, subtle,scheming man, and several things arose which gave me a suspicion ofhim, but I had no cause for any positive quarrel.
"One day, only a couple of weeks ago, he came down to my cottage and Ishowed him some of my African curiosities. Among other things Iexhibited this powder, and I told him of its strange properties, how itstimulates those brain centres which control the emotion of fear, andhow either madness or death is the fate of the unhappy native who issubjected to the ordeal by the priest of his tribe. I told him alsohow powerless European science would be to detect it. How he took it Icannot say, for I never left the room, but there is no doubt that itwas then, while I was opening cabinets and stooping to boxes, that hemanaged to abstract some of the devil's-foot root. I well remember howhe plied me with questions as to the amount and the time that wasneeded for its effect, but I little dreamed that he could have apersonal reason for asking.
"I thought no more of the matter until the vicar's telegram reached meat Plymouth. This villain had thought that I would be at sea beforethe news could reach me, and that I should be lost for years in Africa.But I returned at once. Of course, I could not listen to the detailswithout feeling assured that my poison had been used. I came round tosee you on the chance that some other explanation had suggested itselfto you. But there could be none. I was convinced that MortimerTregennis was the murderer; that for the sake of money, and with theidea, perhaps, that if the other members of his family were all insanehe would be the sole guardian of their joint property, he had used thedevil's-foot powder upon them, driven two of them out of their senses,and killed his sister Brenda, the one human being whom I have everloved or who has ever loved me. There was his crime; what was to behis punishment?
"Should I appeal to the law? Where were my proofs? I knew that thefacts were true, but could I help to make a jury of countrymen believeso fantastic a story? I might or I might not. But I could not affordto fail. My soul cried out for revenge. I have said to you oncebefore, Mr. Holmes, that I have spent much of my life outside the law,and that I have come at last to be a law to myself. So it was evennow. I determined that the fate which he had given to others should beshared by himself. Either that or I would do justice upon him with myown hand. In all England there can be no man who sets less value uponhis own life than I do at the present moment.
"Now I have told you all. You have yourself supplied the rest. I did,as you say, after a restless night, set off early from my cottage. Iforesaw the difficulty of arousing him, so I gathered some gravel fromthe pile which you have mentioned, and I used it to throw up to hiswindow. He came down and admitted me through the window of thesitting-room. I laid his offence before him. I told him that I hadcome both as judge and executioner. The wretch sank into a chair,paralyzed at the sight of my revolver. I lit the lamp, put the powderabove it, and stood outside the window, ready to carry out my threat toshoot him should he try to leave the room. In five minutes he died.My God! how he died! But my heart was flint, for he endured nothingwhich my innocent darling had not felt before him. There is my story,Mr. Holmes. Perhaps, if you loved a woman, you would have done as muchyourself. At any rate, I am in your hands. You can take what stepsyou like. As I have already said, there is no man living who can feardeath less than I do."
Holmes sat for some little time in silence.
"What were your plans?" he asked at last.
"I had intended to bury myself in central Africa. My work there is buthalf finished."
"Go and do the other half," said Holmes. "I, at least, am not preparedto prevent you."
Dr. Sterndale raised his giant figure, bowed gravely, and walked fromthe arbour. Holmes lit his pipe and handed me his pouch.
"Some fumes which are not poisonous would be a welcome change," saidhe. "I think you must agree, Watson, that it is not a case in which weare called upon to interfere. Our investigation has been independent,and our action shall be so also. You would not denounce the man?"
"Certainly not," I answered.
"I have never loved, Watson, but if I did and if the woman I loved hadmet such an end, I might act even as our lawless lion-hunter has done.Who knows? Well, Watson, I will not offend your intelligence byexplaining what is obvious. The gravel upon the window-sill was, ofcourse, the starting-point of my research. It was unlike anything inthe vicarage garden. Only when my attention had been drawn to Dr.Sterndale and his cottage did I find its counterpart. The lamp shiningin broad daylight and the remains of powder upon the shield weresuccessive links in a fairly obvious chain. And now, my dear Watson, Ithink we may dismiss the matter from our mind and go back with a clearconscience to the study of those Chaldean roots which are surely to betraced in the Cornish branch of the great Celtic speech."
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