The Valley of Fear (Sherlock Holmes 7)

"I was hanging on the side of the table when Barker came hurrying down.I heard my wife coming, and I ran to the door and stopped her. It wasno sight for a woman. I promised I'd come to her soon. I said a word ortwo to Barker--he took it all in at a glance--and we waited for therest to come along. But there was no sign of them. Then we understoodthat they could hear nothing, and that all that had happened was knownonly to ourselves.

"It was at that instant that the idea came to me. I was fairly dazzledby the brilliance of it. The man's sleeve had slipped up and there wasthe branded mark of the lodge upon his forearm. See here!"

The man whom we had known as Douglas turned up his own coat and cuff toshow a brown triangle within a circle exactly like that which we hadseen upon the dead man.

"It was the sight of that which started me on it. I seemed to see itall clear at a glance. There were his height and hair and figure, aboutthe same as my own. No one could swear to his face, poor devil! Ibrought down this suit of clothes, and in a quarter of an hour Barkerand I had put my dressing gown on him and he lay as you found him. Wetied all his things into a bundle, and I weighted them with the onlyweight I could find and put them through the window. The card he hadmeant to lay upon my body was lying beside his own.

"My rings were put on his finger; but when it came to the weddingring," he held out his muscular hand, "you can see for yourselves thatI had struck the limit. I have not moved it since the day I wasmarried, and it would have taken a file to get it off. I don't know,anyhow, that I should have cared to part with it; but if I had wantedto I couldn't. So we just had to leave that detail to take care ofitself. On the other hand, I brought a bit of plaster down and put itwhere I am wearing one myself at this instant. You slipped up there,Mr. Holmes, clever as you are; for if you had chanced to take off thatplaster you would have found no cut underneath it.

"Well, that was the situation. If I could lie low for a while and thenget away where I could be joined by my 'widow' we should have a chanceat last of living in peace for the rest of our lives. These devilswould give me no rest so long as I was above ground; but if they saw inthe papers that Baldwin had got his man, there would be an end of allmy troubles. I hadn't much time to make it all clear to Barker and tomy wife; but they understood enough to be able to help me. I knew allabout this hiding place, so did Ames; but it never entered his head toconnect it with the matter. I retired into it, and it was up to Barkerto do the rest.

"I guess you can fill in for yourselves what he did. He opened thewindow and made the mark on the sill to give an idea of how themurderer escaped. It was a tall order, that; but as the bridge was upthere was no other way. Then, when everything was fixed, he rang thebell for all he was worth. What happened afterward you know. And so,gentlemen, you can do what you please; but I've told you the truth andthe whole truth, so help me God! What I ask you now is how do I standby the English law?"

There was a silence which was broken by Sherlock Holmes.

"The English law is in the main a just law. You will get no worse thanyour deserts from that, Mr. Douglas. But I would ask you how did thisman know that you lived here, or how to get into your house, or whereto hide to get you?"

"I know nothing of this."

Holmes's face was very white and grave. "The story is not over yet, Ifear," said he. "You may find worse dangers than the English law, oreven than your enemies from America. I see trouble before you, Mr.Douglas. You'll take my advice and still be on your guard."

And now, my long-suffering readers, I will ask you to come away with mefor a time, far from the Sussex Manor House of Birlstone, and far alsofrom the year of grace in which we made our eventful journey whichended with the strange story of the man who had been known as JohnDouglas. I wish you to journey back some twenty years in time, andwestward some thousands of miles in space, that I may lay before you asingular and terrible narrative--so singular and so terrible that youmay find it hard to believe that even as I tell it, even so did itoccur.

Do not think that I intrude one story before another is finished. Asyou read on you will find that this is not so. And when I have detailedthose distant events and you have solved this mystery of the past, weshall meet once more in those rooms on Baker Street, where this, likeso many other wonderful happenings, will find its end.

PART 2

The Scowrers

Chapter 1

The Man

It was the fourth of February in the year 1875. It had been a severewinter, and the snow lay deep in the gorges of the Gilmerton Mountains.The steam ploughs had, however, kept the railroad open, and the eveningtrain which connects the long line of coal-mining and iron-workingsettlements was slowly groaning its way up the steep gradients whichlead from Stagville on the plain to Vermissa, the central townshipwhich lies at the head of Vermissa Valley. From this point the tracksweeps downward to Bartons Crossing, Helmdale, and the purelyagricultural county of Merton. It was a single-track railroad; but atevery siding--and they were numerous--long lines of trucks piled withcoal and iron ore told of the hidden wealth which had brought a rudepopulation and a bustling life to this most desolate corner of theUnited States of America.

For desolate it was! Little could the first pioneer who had traversedit have ever imagined that the fairest prairies and the most lush waterpastures were valueless compared to this gloomy land of black crag andtangled forest. Above the dark and often scarcely penetrable woods upontheir flanks, the high, bare crowns of the mountains, white snow, andjagged rock towered upon each flank, leaving a long, winding, tortuousvalley in the centre. Up this the little train was slowly crawling.

The oil lamps had just been lit in the leading passenger car, a long,bare carriage in which some twenty or thirty people were seated. Thegreater number of these were workmen returning from their day's toil inthe lower part of the valley. At least a dozen, by their grimed facesand the safety lanterns which they carried, proclaimed themselvesminers. These sat smoking in a group and conversed in low voices,glancing occasionally at two men on the opposite side of the car, whoseuniforms and badges showed them to be policemen.

Several women of the labouring class and one or two travellers whomight have been small local storekeepers made up the rest of thecompany, with the exception of one young man in a corner by himself. Itis with this man that we are concerned. Take a good look at him, for heis worth it.

He is a fresh-complexioned, middle-sized young man, not far, one wouldguess, from his thirtieth year. He has large, shrewd, humorous grayeyes which twinkle inquiringly from time to time as he looks roundthrough his spectacles at the people about him. It is easy to see thathe is of a sociable and possibly simple disposition, anxious to befriendly to all men. Anyone could pick him at once as gregarious in hishabits and communicative in his nature, with a quick wit and a readysmile. And yet the man who studied him more closely might discern acertain firmness of jaw and grim tightness about the lips which wouldwarn him that there were depths beyond, and that this pleasant,brown-haired young Irishman might conceivably leave his mark for goodor evil upon any society to which he was introduced.

Having made one or two tentative remarks to the nearest miner, andreceiving only short, gruff replies, the traveller resigned himself touncongenial silence, staring moodily out of the window at the fadinglandscape.

It was not a cheering prospect. Through the growing gloom there pulsedthe red glow of the furnaces on the sides of the hills. Great heaps ofslag and dumps of cinders loomed up on each side, with the high shaftsof the collieries towering above them. Huddled groups of mean, woodenhouses, the windows of which were beginning to outline themselves inlight, were scattered here and there along the line, and the frequenthalting places were crowded with their swarthy inhabitants.

The iron and coal valleys of the Vermissa district were no resorts forthe leisured or the cultured. Everywhere there were stern signs of thecrudest battle of life, the rude work to be done, and the rude, strongworkers who did it.

The young traveller gazed out into this dismal country with a face ofmingled repulsion and interest, which showed that the scene was new tohim. At intervals he drew from his pocket a bulky letter to which hereferred, and on the margins of which he scribbled some notes. Oncefrom the back of his waist he produced something which one would hardlyhave expected to find in the possession of so mild-mannered a man. Itwas a navy revolver of the largest size. As he turned it slantwise tothe light, the glint upon the rims of the copper shells within the drumshowed that it was fully loaded. He quickly restored it to his secretpocket, but not before it had been observed by a working man who hadseated himself upon the adjoining bench.

"Hullo, mate!" said he. "You seem heeled and ready."

The young man smiled with an air of embarrassment.

"Yes," said he, "we need them sometimes in the place I come from."

"And where may that be?"