We loitered the morning away in the garden. Stanley Hopkinshad gone down to the village to look into some rumours of astrange woman who had been seen by some children on theChatham Road the previous morning. As to my friend, all hisusual energy seemed to have deserted him. I had never knownhim handle a case in such a half-hearted fashion. Even the newsbrought back by Hopkins that he had found the children, and thatthey had undoubtedly seen a woman exactly corresponding withHolmes’s description, and wearing either spectacles or eyeglasses,failed to rouse any sign of keen interest. He was more attentivewhen Susan, who waited upon us at lunch, volunteered theinformation that she believed Mr. Smith had been out for a walkyesterday morning, and that he had only returned half an hourbefore the tragedy occurred. I could not myself see the bearingof this incident, but I clearly perceived that Holmes was weavinginto the general scheme which he had formed in his brain.
Suddenly he sprang from his chair and glanced at his watch. “TwoThe Return of Sherlock Holmes 1025
o’clock, gentlemen,” said he. “We must go up and have it out withour friend, the professor.”
The old man had just finished his lunch, and certainly hisempty dish bore evidence to the good appetite with which hishousekeeper had credited him. He was, indeed, a weird figure ashe turned his white mane and his glowing eyes towards us. Theeternal cigarette smouldered in his mouth. He had been dressedand was seated in an armchair by the fire.
“Well, Mr. Holmes, have you solved this mystery yet?” Heshoved the large tin of cigarettes which stood on a table besidehim towards my companion. Holmes stretched out his hand at thesame moment, and between them they tipped the box over theedge. For a minute or two we were all on our knees retrieving straycigarettes from impossible places. When we rose again, I observedHolmes’s eyes were shining and his cheeks tinged with colour.
Only at a crisis have I seen those battle-signals flying.
“Yes,” said he, “I have solved it.”
Stanley Hopkins and I stared in amazement. Something like asneer quivered over the gaunt features of the old professor.
“Indeed! In the garden?”
“No, here.”
“Here! When?”
“This instant.”
“You are surely joking, Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You compel meto tell you that this is too serious a matter to be treated in such afashion.”
“I have forged and tested every link of my chain, ProfessorCoram, and I am sure that it is sound. What your motives are, orwhat exact part you play in this strange business, I am not yet ableto say. In a few minutes I shall probably hear it from your own lips.
Meanwhile I will reconstruct what is past for your benefit, so thatyou may know the information which I still require.
“A lady yesterday entered your study. She came with theintention of possessing herself of certain documents which were inyour bureau. She had a key of her own. I have had an opportunityof examining yours, and I do not find that slight discolourationwhich the scratch made upon the varnish would have produced.
You were not an accessory, therefore, and she came, so far as I canread the evidence, without your knowledge to rob you.”
The professor blew a cloud from his lips. “This is mostinteresting and instructive,” said he. “Have you no more to add?
Surely, having traced this lady so far, you can also say what hasbecome of her.”
“I will endeavour to do so. In the first place she was seized byyour secretary, and stabbed him in order to escape. This catastropheI am inclined to regard as an unhappy accident, for I am convinced1026 The Complete Sherlock Holmes
that the lady had no intention of inflicting so grievous an injury.
An assassin does not come unarmed. Horrified by what she haddone, she rushed wildly away from the scene of the tragedy.
Unfortunately for her, she had lost her glasses in the scuffle, andas she was extremely short-sighted she was really helpless withoutthem. She ran down a corridor, which she imagined to be that bywhich she had come—both were lined with cocoanut matting—and it was only when it was too late that she understood that shehad taken the wrong passage, and that her retreat was cut off behindher. What was she to do? She could not go back. She could notremain where she was. She must go on. She went on. She mounted astair, pushed open a door, and found herself in your room.”
The old man sat with his mouth open, staring wildly at Holmes.
Amazement and fear were stamped upon his expressive features.
Now, with an effort, he shrugged his shoulders and burst intoinsincere laughter.
“All very fine, Mr. Holmes,” said he. “But there is one little flawin your splendid theory. I was myself in my room, and I never leftduring the day.”
“I am aware of that, Professor Coram.”
“And you mean to say that I could lie upon that bed and not beaware that a woman had entered my room?”
“I never said so. You WERE aware of it. You spoke with her.
You recognized her. You aided her to escape.”
Again the professor burst into high-keyed laughter. He had risento his feet, and his eyes glowed like embers.
“You are mad!” he cried. “You are talking insanely. I helped herto escape? Where is she now?”
“She is there,” said Holmes, and he pointed to a high bookcasein the corner of the room.
I saw the old man throw up his arms, a terrible convulsionpassed over his grim face, and he fell back in his chair. At the sameinstant the bookcase at which Holmes pointed swung round uponhinge, and a woman rushed out into the room. “You are right!”
she cried, in a strange foreign voice. “You are right! I am here.”
