"My own idea of the game, at any rate," said Holmes, with a smile. "Igo into a case to help the ends of justice and the work of the police.If I have ever separated myself from the official force, it is becausethey have first separated themselves from me. I have no wish ever toscore at their expense. At the same time, Mr. White Mason, I claim theright to work in my own way and give my results at my owntime--complete rather than in stages."
"I am sure we are honoured by your presence and to show you all weknow," said White Mason cordially. "Come along, Dr. Watson, and whenthe time comes we'll all hope for a place in your book."
We walked down the quaint village street with a row of pollarded elmson eac
h side of it. Just beyond were two ancient stone pillars,weather-stained and lichen-blotched bearing upon their summits ashapeless something which had once been the rampant lion of Capus ofBirlstone. A short walk along the winding drive with such sward andoaks around it as one only sees in rural England, then a sudden turn,and the long, low Jacobean house of dingy, liver-coloured brick laybefore us, with an old-fashioned garden of cut yews on each side of it.As we approached it, there was the wooden drawbridge and the beautifulbroad moat as still and luminous as quicksilver in the cold, wintersunshine.
Three centuries had flowed past the old Manor House, centuries ofbirths and of homecomings, of country dances and of the meetings of foxhunters. Strange that now in its old age this dark business should havecast its shadow upon the venerable walls! And yet those strange, peakedroofs and quaint, overhung gables were a fitting covering to grim andterrible intrigue. As I looked at the deep-set windows and the longsweep of the dull-coloured, water-lapped front, I felt that no morefitting scene could be set for such a tragedy.
"That's the window," said White Mason, "that one on the immediate rightof the drawbridge. It's open just as it was found last night."
"It looks rather narrow for a man to pass."
"Well, it wasn't a fat man, anyhow. We don't need your deductions, Mr.Holmes, to tell us that. But you or I could squeeze through all right."
Holmes walked to the edge of the moat and looked across. Then heexamined the stone ledge and the grass border beyond it.
"I've had a good look, Mr. Holmes," said White Mason. "There is nothingthere, no sign that anyone has landed--but why should he leave anysign?"
"Exactly. Why should he? Is the water always turbid?"
"Generally about this colour. The stream brings down the clay."
"How deep is it?"
"About two feet at each side and three in the middle."
"So we can put aside all idea of the man having been drowned incrossing."
"No, a child could not be drowned in it."
We walked across the drawbridge, and were admitted by a quaint,gnarled, dried-up person, who was the butler, Ames. The poor old fellowwas white and quivering from the shock. The village sergeant, a tall,formal, melancholy man, still held his vigil in the room of Fate. Thedoctor had departed.
"Anything fresh, Sergeant Wilson?" asked White Mason.
"No, sir."
"Then you can go home. You've had enough. We can send for you if wewant you. The butler had better wait outside. Tell him to warn Mr.Cecil Barker, Mrs. Douglas, and the housekeeper that we may want a wordwith them presently. Now, gentlemen, perhaps you will allow me to giveyou the views I have formed first, and then you will be able to arriveat your own."
He impressed me, this country specialist. He had a solid grip of factand a cool, clear, common-sense brain, which should take him some wayin his profession. Holmes listened to him intently, with no sign ofthat impatience which the official exponent too often produced.
"Is it suicide, or is it murder--that's our first question, gentlemen,is it not? If it were suicide, then we have to believe that this manbegan by taking off his wedding ring and concealing it; that he thencame down here in his dressing gown, trampled mud into a corner behindthe curtain in order to give the idea someone had waited for him,opened the window, put blood on the--"
"We can surely dismiss that," said MacDonald.
"So I think. Suicide is out of the question. Then a murder has beendone. What we have to determine is, whether it was done by someoneoutside or inside the house."
"Well, let's hear the argument."
"There are considerable difficulties both ways, and yet one or theother it must be. We will suppose first that some person or personsinside the house did the crime. They got this man down here at a timewhen everything was still and yet no one was asleep. They then did thedeed with the queerest and noisiest weapon in the world so as to telleveryone what had happened--a weapon that was never seen in the housebefore. That does not seem a very likely start, does it?"
"No, it does not."
"Well, then, everyone is agreed that after the alarm was given only aminute at the most had passed before the whole household--not Mr. CecilBarker alone, though he claims to have been the first, but Ames and allof them were on the spot. Do you tell me that in that time the guiltyperson managed to make footmarks in the corner, open the window, markthe sill with blood, take the wedding ring off the dead man's finger,and all the rest of it? It's impossible!"
"You put it very clearly," said Holmes. "I am inclined to agree withyou."
"Well, then, we are driven back to the theory that it was done bysomeone from outside. We are still faced with some big difficulties;but anyhow they have ceased to be impossibilities. The man got into thehouse between four-thirty and six; that is to say, between dusk and thetime when the bridge was raised. There had been some visitors, and thedoor was open; so there was nothing to prevent him. He may have been acommon burglar, or he may have had some private grudge against Mr.Douglas. Since Mr. Douglas has spent most of his life in America, andthis shotgun seems to be an American weapon, it would seem that theprivate grudge is the more likely theory. He slipped into this roombecause it was the first he came to, and he hid behind the curtain.There he remained until past eleven at night. At that time Mr. Douglasentered the room. It was a short interview, if there were any interviewat all; for Mrs. Douglas declares that her husband had not left hermore than a few minutes when she heard the shot."