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