firm upon this point, and I only hope that the increased salary

  may recompense you for the loss. Your duties, as far as the child

  is concerned, are very light. Now do try to come, and I shall

  meet you with the dog-cart at Winchester. Let me know your train.

  "Yours faithfully, JEPHRO RUCASTLE.'

  "That is the letter which I have just received, Mr. Holmes, and

  my mind is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however,

  that before taking the final step I should like to submit the

  whole matter to your consideration."

  "Well, Miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the

  question," said Holmes, smiling.

  "But you would not advise me to refuse?"

  "I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to

  see a sister of mine apply for."

  "What is the meaning of it all, Mr. Holmes?"

  "Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself

  formed some opinion?"

  "Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mr.

  Rucastle seemed to be a very kind, good-natured man. Is it not

  possible that his wife is a lunatic, that he desires to keep the

  matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that

  he humours her fancies in every way in order to prevent an

  outbreak?"

  "That is a possible solution--in fact, as matters stand, it is

  the most probable one. But in any case it does not seem to be a

  nice household for a young lady."

  "But the money, Mr. Holmes the money!"

  "Well, yes, of course the pay is good--too good. That is what

  makes me uneasy. Why should they give you 120 pounds a year, when

  they could have their pick for 40 pounds? There must be some

  strong reason behind."

  "I thought that if I told you the circumstances you would

  understand afterwards if I wanted your help. I should feel so

  much stronger if I felt that you were at the back of me."

  "Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that

  your little problem promises to be the most interesting which has

  come my way for some months. There is something distinctly novel

  about some of the features. If you should find yourself in doubt

  or in danger--"

  "Danger! What danger do you foresee?"

  Holmes shook his head gravely. "It would cease to be a danger if

  we could define it," said he. "But at any time, day or night, a

  telegram would bring me down to your help."

  "That is enough." She rose briskly from her chair with the

  anxiety all swept from her face. "I shall go down to Hampshire

  quite easy in my mind now. I shall write to Mr. Rucastle at once,

  sacrifice my poor hair to-night, and start for Winchester

  to-morrow." With a few grateful words to Holmes she bade us both

  good-night and bustled off upon her way.

  "At least," said I as we heard her quick, firm steps descending

  the stairs, "she seems to be a young lady who is very well able

  to take care of herself."

  "And she would need to be," said Holmes gravely. "I am much

  mistaken if we do not hear from her before many days are past."

  It was not very long before my friend's prediction was fulfilled.

  A fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts

  turning in her direction and wondering what strange side-alley of

  human experience this lonely woman had strayed into. The unusual

  salary, the curious conditions, the light duties, all pointed to

  something abnormal, though whether a fad or a plot, or whether

  the man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond

  my powers to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat

  frequently for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an

  abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his

  hand when I mentioned it. "Data! data! data!" he cried

  impatiently. "I can't make bricks without clay." And yet he would

  always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever

  have accepted such a situation.

  The telegram which we eventually received came late one night

  just as I was thinking of turning in and Holmes was settling down

  to one of those all-night chemical researches which he frequently

  indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a

  test-tube at night and find him in the same position when I came

  down to breakfast in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope,

  and then, glancing at the message, threw it across to me.

  "Just look up the trains in Bradshaw," said he, and turned back

  to his chemical studies.

  The summons was a brief and urgent one.

  "Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday

  to-morrow," it said. "Do come! I am at my wit's end. HUNTER."

  "Will you come with me?" asked Holmes, glancing up.

  "I should wish to."

  "Just look it up, then."

  "There is a train at half-past nine," said I, glancing over my

  Bradshaw. "It is due at Winchester at 11:30."

  "That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my

  analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the

  morning."

  By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the

  old English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers

  all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he

  threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal

  spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white

  clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining

  very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air,

  which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside,

  away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and

  gray roofs of the farm-steadings peeped out from amid the light

  green of the new foliage.

  "Are they not fresh and beautiful?" I cried with all the

  enthusiasm of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street.

  But Holmes shook his head gravely.

  "Do you know, Watson," said he, "that it is one of the curses of

  a mind with a turn like mine that I must look at everything with

  reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered

  houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them,

  and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their

  isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed

  there."

  "Good heavens!" I cried. "Who would associate crime with these

  dear old homesteads?"

  "They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief,

  Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest

  alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin

  than does the smiling and beautiful countryside."

  "You horrify me!"

  "But the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion

  can do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no

  lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of

  a drunkard's blow, does not beget sympathy and indignation among

  the neighbors, and then the whole machinery of justice is ever

  so close that a wor
d of complaint can set it going, and there is

  but a step between the crime and the dock. But look at these

  lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part

  with poor ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the

  deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on,

  year in, year out, in such places, and none the wiser. Had this

  lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I

  should never have had a fear for her. It is the five miles of

  country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she is

  not personally threatened."

  "No. If she can come to Winchester to meet us she can get away."

  "Quite so. She has her freedom."

  "What CAN be the matter, then? Can you suggest no explanation?"

  "I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would

  cover the facts as far as we know them. But which of these is

  correct can only be determined by the fresh information which we

  shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of

  the cathedral, and we shall soon learn all that Miss Hunter has

  to tell."

  The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the High Street, at no

  distance from the station, and there we found the young lady

  waiting for us. She had engaged a sitting-room, and our lunch

  awaited us upon the table.

  "I am so delighted that you have come," she said earnestly. "It

  is so very kind of you both; but indeed I do not know what I

  should do. Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me."

  "Pray tell us what has happened to you."

  "I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised Mr.

  Rucastle to be back before three. I got his leave to come into

  town this morning, though he little knew for what purpose."

  "Let us have everything in its due order." Holmes thrust his long

  thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen.

  "In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole,

  with no actual ill-treatment from Mr. and Mrs. Rucastle. It is

  only fair to them to say that. But I cannot understand them, and

  I am not easy in my mind about them."

  "What can you not understand?"

  "Their reasons for their conduct. But you shall have it all just

  as it occurred. When I came down, Mr. Rucastle met me here and

  drove me in his dog-cart to the Copper Beeches. It is, as he

  said, beautifully situated, but it is not beautiful in itself,

  for it is a large square block of a house, whitewashed, but all

  stained and streaked with damp and bad weather. There are grounds

  round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourth a field which

  slopes down to the Southampton highroad, which curves past about

  a hundred yards from the front door. This ground in front belongs

  to the house, but the woods all round are part of Lord

  Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper beeches immediately in

  front of the hall door has given its name to the place.

  "I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever,

  and was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child.

  There was no truth, Mr. Holmes, in the conjecture which seemed to

  us to be probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Mrs. Rucastle is

  not mad. I found her to be a silent, pale-faced woman, much

  younger than her husband, not more than thirty, I should think,

  while he can hardly be less than forty-five. From their

  conversation I have gathered that they have been married about

  seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child by

  the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mr.

  Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them

  was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As

  the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I can quite

  imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable with her

  father's young wife.

  "Mrs. Rucastle seemed to me to be colorless in mind as well as

  in feature. She impressed me neither favorably nor the reverse.

  She was a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately

  devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light gray

  eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every

  little want and forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her

  also in his bluff, boisterous fashion, and on the whole they

  seemed to be a happy couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow,

  this woman. She would often be lost in deep thought, with the

  saddest look upon her face. More than once I have surprised her

  in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of

  her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so

  utterly spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is small

  for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large.

  His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between

  savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving

  pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea

  of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning

  the capture of mice, little birds, and insects. But I would

  rather not talk about the creature, Mr. Holmes, and, indeed, he

  has little to do with my story."

  "I am glad of all details," remarked my friend, "whether they

  seem to you to be relevant or not."

  "I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one

  unpleasant thing about the house, which struck me at once, was

  the appearance and conduct of the servants. There are only two, a

  man and his wife. Toller, for that is his name, is a rough,

  uncouth man, with grizzled hair and whiskers, and a perpetual

  smell of drink. Twice since I have been with them he has been

  quite drunk, and yet Mr. Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it.

  His wife is a very tall and strong woman with a sour face, as

  silent as Mrs. Rucastle and much less amiable. They are a most

  unpleasant couple, but fortunately I spend most of my time in the

  nursery and my own room, which are next to each other in one

  corner of the building.

  "For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beeches my life was

  very quiet; on the third, Mrs. Rucastle came down just after

  breakfast and whispered something to her husband.

  "'Oh, yes,' said he, turning to me, 'we are very much obliged to

  you, Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut

  your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest

  iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue

  dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in

  your room, and if you would be so good as to put it on we should

  both be extremely obliged.'

  "The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade

  of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it

  bore unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not

  have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both Mr.

  and Mrs. Rucastle expressed a delight at the look of it, which

  seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waitin
g for

  me in the drawing-room, which is a very large room, stretching

  along the entire front of the house, with three long windows

  reaching down to the floor. A chair had been placed close to the

  central window, with its back turned towards it. In this I was

  asked to sit, and then Mr. Rucastle, walking up and down on the

  other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest

  stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how

  comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Mrs.

  Rucastle, however, who has evidently no sense of humour, never so

  much as smiled, but sat with her hands in her lap, and a sad,

  anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so, Mr. Rucastle

  suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the

  day, and that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in

  the nursery.

  "Two days later this same performance was gone through under

  exactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress, again I

  sat in the window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny

  stories of which my employer had an immense repertoire, and which

  he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow-backed novel, and

  moving my chair a little sideways, that my own shadow might not

  fall upon the page, he begged me to read aloud to him. I read for

  about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then

  suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease and

  to change my dress.

  "You can easily imagine, Mr. Holmes, how curious I became as to

  what the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly

  be. They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face

  away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire

  to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be

  impossible, but I soon devised a means. My hand-mirror had been

  broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of

  the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst

  of my laughter, I put my handkerchief up to my eyes, and was able

  with a little management to see all that there was behind me. I

  confess that I was disappointed. There was nothing. At least that

  was my first impression. At the second glance, however, I

  perceived that there was a man standing in the Southampton Road,

  a small bearded man in a gray suit, who seemed to be looking in

  my direction. The road is an important highway, and there are

  usually people there. This man, however, was leaning against the

  railings which bordered our field and was looking earnestly up. I

  lowered my handkerchief and glanced at Mrs. Rucastle to find her

  eyes fixed upon me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing,

  but I am convinced that she had divined that I had a mirror in my

  hand and had seen what was behind me. She rose at once.

  "'Jephro,' said she, 'there is an impertinent fellow upon the

  road there who stares up at Miss Hunter.'

  "'No friend of yours, Miss Hunter?' he asked.

  "'No, I know no one in these parts.'

  "'Dear me! How very impertinent! Kindly turn round and motion to

  him to go away.'

  "'Surely it would be better to take no notice.'

  "'No, no, we should have him loitering here always. Kindly turn

  round and wave him away like that.'

  "I did as I was told, and at the same instant Mrs. Rucastle drew

  down the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have

  not sat again in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor

  seen the man in the road."

  "Pray continue," said Holmes. "Your narrative promises to be a

  most interesting one."

  "You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may

  prove to be little relation between the different incidents of

  which I speak. On the very first day that I was at the Copper

  Beeches, Mr. Rucastle took me to a small outhouse which stands

  near the kitchen door. As we approached it I heard the sharp