“We shall be at the Copper Beeches by seven o’clock,my friend and I. The Rucastles will be gone by that time,and Toller will, we hope, be incapable.There only remains Mrs. Toller,who might give the alarm.If you could send her into the cellar on some errand,and then turn the key upon her,you would facilitate matters immensely.”
“I will do it.”
“Excellent!We shall then look thoroughly into the affair.Of course there is only one feasible explanation.You have been brought there to personate someone,and the real person is imprisoned in this chamber.That is obvious. As to who this prisoner is,I have no doubt that it is the daughter,Miss Alice Rucastle, if I remember right,who was said to have gone to America. You were chosen,doubtless, as resembling her in height, figure,and the colour of your hair. Hers had been cut off,very possibly in some illness through which she has passed,and so, of course, yours had to be sacrificed also.By a curious chance you came upon her tresses.The man in the road was undoubtedly some friend of hers—possibly her _fiancé_—and no doubt, as you wore the girl’s dress and were so like her, he was convinced from your laughter, whenever he saw you, and afterwards from your gesture, that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no longer desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at night to prevent him from endeavouring to communicate with her. So much is fairly clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition of the child.”
“What on earth has that to do with it?” I ejaculated.
“My dear Watson, you as a medical man are continually gaining light as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don’t you see that the converse is equally valid. I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of parents by studying their children. This child’s disposition is abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty’s sake, and whether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect, or from his mother, it bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their power.”
“I am sure that you are right, Mr. Holmes,” cried our client. “A thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you have hit it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing help to this poor creature.”
“We must be circumspect,for we are dealing with a very cunning man.We can do nothing until seven o’clock.At that hour we shall be with you,and it will not be long before we solve the mystery.”
We were as good as our word,for it was just seven when we reached the Copper Beeches,having put up our trap at a wayside public-house.The group of trees,with their dark leaves shining like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun, were sufficient to mark the house even had Miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the door-step.
“Have you managed it?” asked Holmes.
A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs.“That is Mrs. Toller in the cellar,” said she.“Her husband lies snoring on the kitchen rug.Here are his keys, which are the duplicates of Mr. Rucastle’s.”
“You have done well indeed!” cried Holmes with enthusiasm. “Now lead the way,and we shall soon see the end of this black business.”
We passed up the stair, unlocked the door,followed on down a passage,and found ourselves in front of the barricade which Miss Hunter had described.Holmes cut the cord and removed the transverse bar.Then he tried the various keys in the lock,but without success. No sound came from within,and at the silence Holmes’ face clouded over.
“I trust that we are not too late,” said he. “I think,Miss Hunter, that we had better go in without you. Now,Watson, put your shoulder to it,and we shall see whether we cannot make our way in.”
It was an old rickety door and gave at once before our united strength.Together we rushed into the room. It was empty.There was no furniture save a little pallet bed,a small table, and a basketful of linen.The skylight above was open, and the prisoner gone.
“There has been some villainy here,” said Holmes;“this beauty has guessed Miss Hunter’s intentions and has carried his victim off.”
“But how?”
“Through the skylight.We shall soon see how he managed it.” He swung himself up onto the roof. “Ah, yes,” he cried, “here’s the end of a long light ladder against the eaves.That is how he did it.”
“But it is impossible,” said Miss Hunter;“the ladder was not there when the Rucastles went away. ”
“He has come back and done it.I tell you that he is a clever and dangerous man.I should not be very much surprised if this were he whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it would be as well for you to have your pistol ready.”
The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at the door of the room, a very fat and burly man, with a heavy stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holmes sprang forward and confronted him.
“You villain!” said he, “where’s your daughter?”
The fat man cast his eyes round,and then up at the open skylight.
“It is for me to ask you that,” he shrieked, “you thieves!Spies and thieves!I have caught you, have I?You are in my power. I’ll serve you!” He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he could go.
“He’s gone for the dog!” cried Miss Hunter.
“I have my revolver,” said I.
“Better close the front door,” cried Holmes,and we all rushed down the stairs together.We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the baying of a hound,and then a scream of agony,with a horrible worrying sound which it was dreadful to listen to.An elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door.
“My God!” he cried. “Someone has loosed the dog.It’s not been fed for two days. Quick, quick,or it’ll be too late!”
Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house,with Toller hurrying behind us.There was the huge famished brute,its black muzzle buried in Rucastle’s throat,while he writhed and screamed upon the ground.Running up, I blew its brains out,and it fell over with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck. With much labour we separated them and carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house. We laid him upon the drawing-room sofa, and having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news to his wife, I did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him when the door opened, and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room.
“Mrs. Toller!” cried Miss Hunter.
“Yes, miss. Mr. Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went up to you.Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn’t let me know what you were planning,for I would have told you that your pains were wasted.”
“Ha!” said Holmes, looking keenly at her.“It is clear that Mrs.Toller knows more about this matter than anyone else.”
“Yes, sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know. ”
“Then, pray, sit down,and let us hear it for there are several points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark.”
“I will soon make it clear to you,” said she;“and I’d have done so before now if I could ha’ got out from the cellar.If there’s police-court business over this,you’ll remember that I was the one that stood your friend,and that I was Miss Alice’s friend too.