"I am no official agent. I understand that it was your daughterwho required my presence here, and I am acting in her interests.Young McCarthy must be got off, however."
"I am a dying man," said old Turner. "I have had diabetes foryears. My doctor says it is a question whether I shall live amonth. Yet I would rather die under my own roof than in a gaol."
Holmes rose and sat down at the table with his pen in his handand a bundle of paper before him. "Just tell us the truth," hesaid. "I shall jot down the facts. You will sign it, and Watsonhere can witness it. Then I could produce your confession at thelast extremity to save young McCarthy. I promise you that I shallnot use it unless it is absolutely needed."
"It's as well," said the old man; "it's a question whether Ishall live to the Assizes, so it matters little to me, but Ishould wish to spare Alice the shock. And now I will make thething clear to you; it has been a long time in the acting, butwill not take me long to tell.
"You didn't know this dead man, McCarthy. He was a devilincarnate. I tell you that. God keep you out of the clutches ofsuch a man as he. His grip has been upon me these twenty years,and he has blasted my life. I'll tell you first how I came to bein his power.
"It was in the early '60's at the diggings. I was a young chapthen, hot-blooded and reckless, ready to turn my hand atanything; I got among bad companions, took to drink, had no luckwith my claim, took to the bush, and in a word became what youwould call over here a highway robber. There were six of us, andwe had a wild, free life of it, sticking up a station from timeto time, or stopping the wagons on the road to the diggings.Black Jack of Ballarat was the name I went under, and our partyis still remembered in the colony as the Ballarat Gang.
"One day a gold convoy came down from Ballarat to Melbourne, andwe lay in wait for it and attacked it. There were six troopersand six of us, so it was a close thing, but we emptied four oftheir saddles at the first volley. Three of our boys were killed,however, before we got the swag. I put my pistol to the head ofthe wagon-driver, who was this very man McCarthy. I wish to theLord that I had shot him then, but I spared him, though I saw hiswicked little eyes fixed on my face, as though to remember everyfeature. We got away with the gold, became wealthy men, and madeour way over to England without being suspected. There I partedfrom my old pals and determined to settle down to a quiet andrespectable life. I bought this estate, which chanced to be inthe market, and I set myself to do a little good with my money,to make up for the way in which I had earned it. I married, too,and though my wife died young she left me my dear little Alice.Even when she was just a baby her wee hand seemed to lead me downthe right path as nothing else had ever done. In a word, I turnedover a new leaf and did my best to make up for the past. All wasgoing well when McCarthy laid his grip upon me.
"I had gone up to town about an investment, and I met him inRegent Street with hardly a coat to his back or a boot to hisfoot.
"'Here we are, Jack,' says he, touching me on the arm; 'we'll beas good as a family to you. There's two of us, me and my son, andyou can have the keeping of us. If you don't--it's a fine,law-abiding country is England, and there's always a policemanwithin hail.'
"Well, down they came to the west country, there was no shakingthem off, and there they have lived rent free on my best landever since. There was no rest for me, no peace, no forgetfulness;turn where I would, there was his cunning, grinning face at myelbow. It grew worse as Alice grew up, for he soon saw I was moreafraid of her knowing my past than of the police. Whatever hewanted he must have, and whatever it was I gave him withoutquestion, land, money, houses, until at last he asked a thingwhich I could not give. He asked for Alice.
"His son, you see, had grown up, and so had my girl, and as I wasknown to be in weak health, it seemed a fine stroke to him thathis lad should step into the whole property. But there I wasfirm. I would not have his cursed stock mixed with mine; not thatI had any dislike to the lad, but his blood was in him, and thatwas enough. I stood firm. McCarthy threatened. I braved him to dohis worst. We were to meet at the pool midway between our housesto talk it over.
"When I went down there I found him talking with his son, so Ismoked a cigar and waited behind a tree until he should be alone.But as I listened to his talk all that was black and bitter inme seemed to come uppermost. He was urging his son to marry mydaughter with as little regard for what she might think as if shewere a slut from off the streets. It drove me mad to think that Iand all that I held most dear should be in the power of such aman as this. Could I not snap the bond? I was already a dying anda desperate man. Though clear of mind and fairly strong of limb,I knew that my own fate was sealed. But my memory and my girl!Both could be saved if I could but silence that foul tongue. Idid it, Mr. Holmes. I would do it again. Deeply as I have sinned,I have led a life of martyrdom to atone for it. But that my girlshould be entangled in the same meshes which held me was morethan I could suffer. I struck him down with no more compunctionthan if he had been some foul and venomous beast. His cry broughtback his son; but I had gained the cover of the wood, though Iwas forced to go back to fetch the cloak which I had dropped inmy flight. That is the true story, gentlemen, of all thatoccurred."
"Well, it is not for me to judge you," said Holmes as the old mansigned the statement which had been drawn out. "I pray that wemay never be exposed to such a temptation."
"I pray not, sir. And what do you intend to do?"
"In view of your health, nothing. You are yourself aware that youwill soon have to answer for your deed at a higher court than theAssizes. I will keep your confession, and if McCarthy iscondemned I shall be forced to use it. If not, it shall never beseen by mortal eye; and your secret, whether you be alive ordead, shall be safe with us."
"Farewell, then," said the old man solemnly. "Your own deathbeds,when they come, will be the easier for the thought of the peacewhich you have given to mine." Tottering and shaking in all hisgiant frame, he stumbled slowly from the room.
"God help us!" said Holmes after a long silence. "Why does fateplay such tricks wi
th poor, helpless worms? I never hear of sucha case as this that I do not think of Baxter's words, and say,'There, but for the grace of God, goes Sherlock Holmes.'"
James McCarthy was acquitted at the Assizes on the strength of anumber of objections which had been drawn out by Holmes andsubmitted to the defending counsel. Old Turner lived for sevenmonths after our interview, but he is now dead; and there isevery prospect that the son and daughter may come to live happilytogether in ignorance of the black cloud which rests upon theirpast.
ADVENTURE V. THE FIVE ORANGE PIPS
When I glance over my notes and records of the Sherlock Holmescases between the years '82 and '90, I am faced by so many whichpresent strange and interesting features that it is no easymatter to know which to choose and which to leave. Some, however,have already gained publicity through the papers, and others havenot offered a field for those peculiar qualities which my friendpossessed in so high a degree, and which it is the object ofthese papers to illustrate. Some, too, have baffled hisanalytical skill, and would be, as narratives, beginnings withoutan ending, while others have been but partially cleared up, andhave their explanations founded rather upon conjecture andsurmise than on that absolute logical proof which was so dear tohim. There is, however, one of these last which was so remarkablein its details and so startling in its results that I am temptedto give some account of it in spite of the fact that there arepoints in connection with it which never have been, and probablynever will be, entirely cleared up.
The year '87 furnished us with a long series of cases of greateror less interest, of which I retain the records. Among myheadings under this one twelve months I find an account of theadventure of the Paradol Chamber, of the Amateur MendicantSociety, who held a luxurious club in the lower vault of afurniture warehouse, of the facts connected with the loss of theBritish barque "Sophy Anderson", of the singular adventures of theGrice Patersons in the island of Uffa, and finally of theCamberwell poisoning case. In the latter, as may be remembered,Sherlock Holmes was able, by winding up the dead man's watch, toprove that it had been wound up two hours before, and thattherefore the deceased had gone to bed within that time--adeduction which was of the greatest importance in clearing up thecase. All these I may sketch out at some future date, but none ofthem present such singular features as the strange train ofcircumstances which I have now taken up my pen to describe.
It was in the latter days of September, and the equinoctial galeshad set in with exceptional violence. All day the wind hadscreamed and the rain had beaten against the windows, so thateven here in the heart of great, hand-made London we were forcedto raise our minds for the instant from the routine of life andto recognise the presence of those great elemental forces whichshriek at mankind through the bars of his civilisation, likeuntamed beasts in a cage. As evening drew in, the storm grewhigher and louder, and the wind cried and sobbed like a child inthe chimney. Sherlock Holmes sat moodily at one side of thefireplace cross-indexing his records of crime, while I at theother was deep in one of Clark Russell's fine sea-stories untilthe howl of the gale from without seemed to blend with the text,and the splash of the rain to lengthen out into the long swash ofthe sea waves. My wife was on a visit to her mother's, and for afew days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at BakerStreet.
"Why," said I, glancing up at my companion, "that was surely thebell. Who could come to-night? Some friend of yours, perhaps?"
"Except yourself I have none," he answered. "I do not encouragevisitors."
"A client, then?"
"If so, it is a serious case. Nothing less would bring a man outon such a day and at such an hour. But I take it that it is morelikely to be some crony of the landlady's."
Sherlock Holmes was wrong in his conjecture, however, for therecame a step in the passage and a tapping at the door. Hestretched out his long arm to turn the lamp away from himself andtowards the vacant chair upon which a newcomer must sit.
"Come in!" said he.
The man who entered was young, some two-and-twenty at theoutside, well-groomed and trimly clad, with something ofrefinement and delicacy in his bearing. The streaming umbrellawhich he held in his hand, and his long shining waterproof toldof the fierce weather through which he had come. He looked abouthim anxiously in the glare of the lamp, and I could see that hisface was pale and his eyes heavy, like those of a man who isweighed down with some great anxiety.