"The facts are these, Mr.
Holmes," said he. "I am a married man, andhave been so for three years. During that time my wife and I have lovedeach other as fondly and lived as happily as any two that ever werejoined. We have not had a difference, not one, in thought or word ordeed. And now, since last Monday, there has suddenly sprung up a barrierbetween us, and I find that there is something in her life and in herthought of which I know as little as if she were the woman who brushesby me in the street. We are estranged, and I want to know why.
"Now there is one thing that I want to impress upon you before I goany further, Mr. Holmes. Effie loves me. Don't let there be any mistakeabout that. She loves me with her whole heart and soul, and never morethan now. I know it. I feel it. I don't want to argue about that. A mancan tell easily enough when a woman loves him. But there's this secretbetween us, and we can never be the same until it is cleared."
"Kindly let me have the facts, Mr. Munro," said Holmes, with someimpatience.
"I'll tell you what I know about Effie's history. She was a widow whenI met her first, though quite young--only twenty-five. Her name then wasMrs. Hebron. She went out to America when she was young, and lived inthe town of Atlanta, where she married this Hebron, who was a lawyerwith a good practice. They had one child, but the yellow fever broke outbadly in the place, and both husband and child died of it. I have seenhis death certificate. This sickened her of America, and she came backto live with a maiden aunt at Pinner, in Middlesex. I may mention thather husband had left her comfortably off, and that she had a capital ofabout four thousand five hundred pounds, which had been so well investedby him that it returned an average of seven per cent. She had only beensix months at Pinner when I met her; we fell in love with each other,and we married a few weeks afterwards.
"I am a hop merchant myself, and as I have an income of seven oreight hundred, we found ourselves comfortably off, and took a niceeighty-pound-a-year villa at Norbury. Our little place was verycountrified, considering that it is so close to town. We had an inn andtwo houses a little above us, and a single cottage at the other side ofthe field which faces us, and except those there were no houses untilyou got half way to the station. My business took me into town atcertain seasons, but in summer I had less to do, and then in our countryhome my wife and I were just as happy as could be wished. I tell youthat there never was a shadow between us until this accursed affairbegan.
"There's one thing I ought to tell you before I go further. When wemarried, my wife made over all her property to me--rather against mywill, for I saw how awkward it would be if my business affairs wentwrong. However, she would have it so, and it was done. Well, about sixweeks ago she came to me.
"'Jack,' said she, 'when you took my money you said that if ever Iwanted any I was to ask you for it.'
"'Certainly,' said I. 'It's all your own.'
"'Well,' said she, 'I want a hundred pounds.'
"I was a bit staggered at this, for I had imagined it was simply a newdress or something of the kind that she was after.
"'What on earth for?' I asked.
"'Oh,' said she, in her playful way, 'you said that you were only mybanker, and bankers never ask questions, you know.'
"'If you really mean it, of course you shall have the money,' said I.
"'Oh, yes, I really mean it.'
"'And you won't tell me what you want it for?'
"'Some day, perhaps, but not just at present, Jack.'
"So I had to be content with that, though it was the first time thatthere had ever been any secret between us. I gave her a check, and Inever thought any more of the matter. It may have nothing to do withwhat came afterwards, but I thought it only right to mention it.
"Well, I told you just now that there is a cottage not far from ourhouse. There is just a field between us, but to reach it you have togo along the road and then turn down a lane. Just beyond it is a nicelittle grove of Scotch firs, and I used to be very fond of strollingdown there, for trees are always a neighborly kind of things. Thecottage had been standing empty this eight months, and it was a pity,for it was a pretty two-storied place, with an old-fashioned porch andhoneysuckle about it. I have stood many a time and thought what a neatlittle homestead it would make.
"Well, last Monday evening I was taking a stroll down that way, whenI met an empty van coming up the lane, and saw a pile of carpets andthings lying about on the grass-plot beside the porch. It was clear thatthe cottage had at last been let. I walked past it, and wondered whatsort of folk they were who had come to live so near us. And as I lookedI suddenly became aware that a face was watching me out of one of theupper windows.
"I don't know what there was about that face, Mr. Holmes, but it seemedto send a chill right down my back. I was some little way off, so thatI could not make out the features, but there was something unnatural andinhuman about the face. That was the impression that I had, and I movedquickly forwards to get a nearer view of the person who was watchingme. But as I did so the face suddenly disappeared, so suddenly that itseemed to have been plucked away into the darkness of the room. I stoodfor five minutes thinking the business over, and trying to analyze myimpressions. I could not tell if the face were that of a man or awoman. It had been too far from me for that. But its color was what hadimpressed me most. It was of a livid chalky white, and with somethingset and rigid about it which was shockingly unnatural. So disturbedwas I that I determined to see a little more of the new inmates ofthe cottage. I approached and knocked at the door, which was instantlyopened by a tall, gaunt woman with a harsh, forbidding face.
"'What may you be wantin'?' she asked, in a Northern accent.
"'I am your neighbor over yonder,' said I, nodding towards my house. 'Isee that you have only just moved in, so I thought that if I could be ofany help to you in any--'
"'Ay, we'll just ask ye when we want ye,' said she, and shut the doorin my face. Annoyed at the churlish rebuff, I turned my back and walkedhome. All evening, though I tried to think of other things, my mindwould still turn to the apparition at the window and the rudeness of thewoman. I determined to say nothing about the former to my wife, forshe is a nervous, highly strung woman, and I had no wish that she wouldshare the unpleasant impression which had been produced upon myself. Iremarked to her, however, before I fell asleep, that the cottage was nowoccupied, to which she returned no reply.
"I am usually an extremely sound sleeper. It has been a standing jestin the family that nothing could ever wake me during the night. And yetsomehow on that particular night, whether it may have been the slightexcitement produced by my little adventure or not I know not, butI slept much more lightly than usual. Half in my dreams I was dimlyconscious that something was going on in the room, and gradually becameaware that my wife had dressed herself and was slipping on her mantleand her bonnet. My lips were parted to murmur out some sleepy words ofsurprise or remonstrance at this untimely preparation, when suddenly myhalf-opened eyes fell upon her face, illuminated by the candle-light,and astonishment held me dumb. She wore an expression such as I hadnever seen before--such as I should have thought her incapable ofassuming. She was deadly pale and breathing fast, glancing furtivelytowards the bed as she fastened her mantle, to see if she had disturbedme. Then, thinking that I was still asleep, she slipped noiselessly fromthe room, and an instant later I heard a sharp creaking which could onlycome from the hinges of the front door. I sat up in bed and rapped myknuckles against the rail to make certain that I was truly awake. ThenI took my watch from under the pillow. It was three in the morning. Whaton this earth could my wife be doing out on the country road at three inthe morning?
"I had sat for about twenty minutes turning the thing over in my mindand trying to find some possible explanation. The more I thought, themore extraordinary and inexplicable did it appear. I was still puzzlingover it when I heard the door gently close again, and her footstepscoming up the stairs.
"'Where in the world have you been, Effie?' I asked as she entered.
"She gave a violent start and a kind of gasping cry when
I spoke, andthat cry and start troubled me more than all the rest, for there wassomething indescribably guilty about them. My wife had always beena woman of a frank, open nature, and it gave me a chill to see herslinking into her own room, and crying out and wincing when her ownhusband spoke to her.
"'You awake, Jack!' she cried, with a nervous laugh. 'Why, I thoughtthat nothing could awake you.'