i could see. well,
it certainly was not mr. james wilder, for there he is at
the door."
a red square of light had sprung out of the darkness.
in the middle of it was the black figure of the secretary,
his head advanced, peering out into the night. it was evident
that he was expecting someone. then at last there were
steps in the road, a second figure was visible for an
instant against the light, the door shut, and all was black
once more. five minutes later a lamp was lit in a room
upon the first floor.
"it seems to be a curious class of custom that is done by
the fighting cock," said holmes.
"the bar is on the other side."
"quite so. these are what one may call the private guests.
now, what in the world is mr. james wilder doing in that
den at this hour of night, and who is the companion who
comes to meet him there? come, watson, we must really take
a risk and try to investigate this a little more closely."
together we stole down to the road and crept across to the
door of the inn. the bicycle still leaned against the
wall. holmes struck a match and held it to the back wheel,
and i heard him chuckle as the light fell upon a patched
dunlop tyre. up above us was the lighted window.
"i must have a peep through that, watson. if you bend your back
and support yourself upon the wall, i think that i can manage."
an instant later his feet were on my shoulders. but he was
hardly up before he was down again.
"come, my friend," said he, "our day's work has been quite
long enough. i think that we have gathered all that we
can. it's a long walk to the school, and the sooner we get
started the better."
he hardly opened his lips during that weary trudge across
the moor, nor would he enter the school when he reached it,
but went on to mackleton station, whence he could send some
telegrams. late at night i heard him consoling dr. huxtable,
prostrated by the tragedy of his master's death,
and later still he entered my room as alert and vigorous as
he had been when he started in the morning. "all goes
well, my friend," said he. "i promise that before to-morrow
evening we shall have reached the solution of the mystery."
at eleven o'clock next morning my friend and i were walking
up the famous yew avenue of holdernesse hall. we were
ushered through the magnificent elizabethan doorway and
into his grace's study. there we found mr. james wilder,
demure and courtly, but with some trace of that wild terror
of the night before still lurking in his furtive eyes and
in his twitching features.
"you have come to see his grace? i am sorry; but the fact
is that the duke is far from well. he has been very much
upset by the tragic news. we received a telegram from
dr. huxtable yesterday afternoon, which told us of your
discovery."
"i must see the duke, mr. wilder."
"but he is in his room."
"then i must go to his room."
"i believe he is in his bed."
"i will see him there."
holmes's cold and inexorable manner showed the secretary
that it was useless to argue with him.
"very good, mr. holmes; i will tell him that you are here."
after half an hour's delay the great nobleman appeared.
his face was more cadaverous than ever, his shoulders had
rounded, and he seemed to me to be an altogether older man
than he had been the morning before. he greeted us with a
stately courtesy and seated himself at his desk, his red
beard streaming down on to the table.
"well, mr. holmes?" said he.
but my friend's eyes were fixed upon the secretary,
who stood by his master's chair.
"i think, your grace, that i could speak more freely in
mr. wilder's absence."
the man turned a shade paler and cast a malignant glance
at holmes.
"if your grace wishes ----"
"yes, yes; you had better go. now, mr. holmes, what have
you to say?"
my friend waited until the door had closed behind the
retreating secretary.
"the fact is, your grace," said he, "that my colleague,
dr. watson, and myself had an assurance from dr. huxtable that
a reward had been offered in this case. i should like to
have this confirmed from your own lips."
"certainly, mr. holmes."
"it amounted, if i am correctly informed, to five thousand
pounds to anyone who will tell you where your son is?"
"exactly."
"and another thousand to the man who will name the person
or persons who keep him in custody?"
"exactly."
"under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only
those who may have taken him away, but also those who
conspire to keep him in his present position?"
"yes, yes," cried the duke, impatiently. "if you do your
work well, mr. sherlock holmes, you will have no reason to
complain of niggardly treatment."
my friend rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance
of avidity which was a surprise to me, who knew his frugal
tastes.
"i fancy that i s
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