“Oh， Daddy，” he cried， “I did not know that you were due yet. Ishould have been here to meet you. Oh， I am so glad to see you！”
Ferguson gently disengaged himself from the embrace withsome little show of embarrassment.
“Dear old chap，” said he， patting the flaxen head with a verytender hand. “I came early because my friends， Mr. Holmes andDr. Watson， have been persuaded to come down and spend anevening with us.”
“Is that Mr. Holmes， the detective？”
“Yes.”
The youth looked at us with a very penetrating and， as it seemedto me， unfriendly gaze.
“What about your other child， Mr. Ferguson？” asked Holmes.
Might we make the acquaintance of the baby？”
“Ask Mrs. Mason to bring baby down，” said Ferguson. The boywent off with a curious， shambling gait which told my surgical eyesthat he was suffering from a weak spine. Presently he returned，and behind him came a tall， gaunt woman bearing in her arms avery beautiful child， dark-eyed， golden-haired， a wonderful mixtureof the Saxon and the Latin. Ferguson was evidently devoted to it，for he took it into his arms and fondled it most tenderly.
“Fancy anyone having the heart to hurt him，” he muttered ashe glanced down at the small， angry red pucker upon the cherubthroat.
It was at this moment that I chanced to glance at Holmes andsaw a most singular intentness in his expression. His face was asset as if it had been carved out of old ivory， and his eyes， whichhad glanced for a moment at father and child， were now fixedwith eager curiosity upon something at the other side of theroom. Following his gaze I could only guess that he was looking outthrough the window at the melancholy， dripping garden. It is truethat a shutter had half closed outside and obstructed the view， butnone the less it was certainly at the window that Holmes was fixingThe Case Book of Sherlock Holmes 1309his concentrated attention. Then he smiled， and his eyes came backto the baby. On its chubby neck there was this small puckered mark.
Without speaking， Holmes examined it with care. Finally he shookone of the dimpled fists which waved in front of him.
“Good-bye， little man. You have made a strange start in life.
Nurse， I should wish to have a word with you in private.”
He took her aside and spoke earnestly for a few minutes. I onlyheard the last words， which were： “Your anxiety will soon， I hope，be set at rest.” The woman， who seemed to be a sour， silent kindof creature， withdrew with the child.
“What is Mrs. Mason like？” asked Holmes.
“Not very prepossessing externally， as you can see， but a heart ofgold， and devoted to the child.”
“Do you like her， Jack？” Holmes turned suddenly upon the boy.
His expressive mobile face shadowed over， and he shook his head.
“Jacky has very strong likes and dislikes，” said Ferguson， puttinghis arm round the boy. “Luckily I am one of his likes.”
The boy cooed and nestled his head upon his father’s breast.
Ferguson gently disengaged him.
“Run away， little Jacky，” said he， and he watched his son withloving eyes until he disappeared. “Now， Mr. Holmes，” he continuedwhen the boy was gone， “I really feel that I have brought you ona fool’s errand， for what can you possibly do save give me yoursympathy？ It must be an exceedingly delicate and complex affairfrom your point of view.”
“It is certainly delicate，” said my friend with an amused smile，“but I have not been struck up to now with its complexity. Ithas been a case for intellectual deduction， but when this originalintellectual deduction is confirmed point by point by quite anumber of independent incidents， then the subjective becomesobjective and we can say confidently that we have reached ourgoal. I had， in fact， reached it before we left Baker Street， and therest has merely been observation and confirmation.”
Ferguson put his big hand to his furrowed forehead.
“For heaven’s sake， Holmes，” he said hoarsely； “if you can see thetruth in this matter， do not keep me in suspense. How do I stand？
What shall I do？ I care nothing as to how you have found yourfacts so long as you have really got them.”
“Certainly I owe you an explanation， and you shall have it. Butyou will permit me to handle the matter in my own way？ Is thelady capable of seeing us， Watson？”
“She is ill， but she is quite rational.”
“Very good. It is only in her presence that we can clear thematter up. Let us go up to her.”
“She will not see me，” cried Ferguson.
The Complete Sherlock Holmes
“Oh， yes， she will，” said Holmes. He scribbled a few lines uponsheet of paper.“You at least have the entrée， Watson. Will youhave the goodness to give the lady this note？”
I ascended again and handed the note to Dolores， whocautiously opened the door. A minute later I heard a cry fromwithin， a cry in which joy and surprise seemed to be blended.
Dolores looked out.
“She will see them. She will leesten，” said she.
At my summons Ferguson and Holmes came up. As we enteredthe room Ferguson took a step or two towards his wife， who hadraised herself in the bed， but she held out her hand to repulse him.
He sank into an armchair， while Holmes seated himself besidehim， after bowing to the lady， who looked at him with wide-eyedamazement.
“I think we can dispense with Dolores，” said Holmes. “Oh，very well， madame， if you would rather she stayed I can see noobjection. Now， Mr. Ferguson， I am a busy man with many calls，and my methods have to be short and direct. The swiftest surgerythe least painful. Let me first say what will ease your mind. Yourwife is a very good， a very loving， and a very ill-used woman.”
Ferguson sat up with a cry of joy.
“Prove that， Mr. Holmes， and I am your debtor forever.”
“I will do so， but in doing so I must wound you deeply inanother direction.”
“I care nothing so long as you clear my wife. Everything onearth is insignificant compared to that.”
“Let me tell you， then， the train of reasoning which passedthrough my mind in Baker Street. The idea of a vampire was to meabsurd. Such things do not happen in criminal practice in England.
