back, his face upturned, with his white
teeth grinning through his short black beard. his two clenched
hands were raised above his head, and a heavy blackthorn stick lay
across them. his dark, handsome, aquiline features were convulsed
into a spasm of vindictive hatred, which had set his dead face in
a terribly fiendish expression. he had evidently been in his bed
when the alarm had broken out, for he wore a foppish embroidered
night-shirt, and his bare feet projected from his trousers. his
head was horribly injured, and the whole room bore witness to the
savage ferocity of the blow which had struck him down. beside him
lay the heavy poker, bent into a curve by the concussion. holmes
examined both it and the indescribable wreck which it had wrought.
"he must be a powerful man, this elder randall," he remarked.
"yes," said hopkins. "i have some record of the fellow, and he is
a rough customer."
"you should have no difficulty in getting him."
"not the slightest. we have been on the look-out for him, and
there was some idea that he had got away to america. now that we
know the gang are here i don't see how they can escape. we have
the news at every seaport already, and a reward will be offered
before evening. what beats me is how they could have done so mad
a thing, knowing that the lady could describe them, and that we
could not fail to recognise the description."
"exactly. one would have expected that they would have silenced
lady brackenstall as well."
"they may not have realized," i suggested, "that she had recovered
from her faint."
"that is likely enough. if she seemed to be senseless they would
not take her life. what about this poor fellow, hopkins? i seem
to have heard some queer stories about him."
"he was a good-hearted man when he was sober, but a perfect fiend
when he was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom
really went the whole way. the devil seemed to be in him at such
times, and he was capable of anything. from what i hear, in spite
of all his wealth and his title, he very nearly came our way once
or twice. there was a scandal about his drenching a dog with
petroleum and setting it on fire -- her ladyship's dog, to make
the matter worse -- and that was only hushed up with difficulty.
then he threw a decanter at that maid, theresa wright; there was
trouble about that. on the whole, and between ourselves, it will
be a brighter house without him. what are you looking at now?"
holmes was down on his knees examining with great attention the
knots upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured.
then he carefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it
had snapped off when the burglar had dragged it down.
"when this was pulled down the bell in the kitchen must have rung
loudly," he remarked.
"no one could hear it. the kitchen stands right at the back of
the house."
"how did the burglar know no one would hear it? how dared he pull
at a bell-rope in that reckless fashion?"
"exactly, mr. holmes, exactly. you put the very question which i
have asked myself again and again. there can be no doubt that
this fellow must have known the house and its habits. he must
have perfectly understood that the servants would all be in bed at
that comparatively early hour, and that no one could possibly hear
a bell ring in the kitchen. therefore he must have been in close
league with one of the servants. surely that is evident.
but there are eight servants, and all of good character."
"other things being equal," said holmes, "one would suspect the
one at whose head the master threw a decanter. and yet that would
involve treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems
devoted. well, well, the point is a minor one, and when you have
randall you will probably find no difficulty in securing his
accomplice. the lady's story certainly seems to be corroborated,
if it needed corroboration, by every detail which we see before
us." he walked to the french window and threw it open. "there
are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, and one would not
expect them. i see that these candles on the mantelpiece have
been lighted."
"yes; it was by their light and that of the lady's bedroom candle
that the burglars saw their way about."
"and what did they take?"
"well, they did not take much -- only half-a-dozen articles of
plate off the sideboard. lady brackenstall thinks that they were
themselves so disturbed by the death of sir eustace that they did
not ransack the house as they would otherwise have done."
"no doubt that is true. and yet they drank some wine,
i understand."
"to steady their own nerves."
"exactly. these three glasses upon the sideboard have been
untouched, i suppose?"
"yes; and the bottle stands as they left it."
"let us look at it. halloa! halloa! what i
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