"If it is not asking too much, Mr. Holmes. There's a train from CharingCross to Chatham at six in the morning, and we should be at Yoxley OldPlace between eight and nine."
"Then we shall take it. Your case has certainly some features of greatinterest, and I shall be delighted to look into it. Well, it's nearlyone, and we had best get a few hours' sleep. I dare say you can manageall right on the sofa in front of the fire. I'll light my spirit-lampand give you a cup of coffee before we start."
The gale had blown itself out next day, but it was a bitter morning whenwe started upon our journey. We saw the cold winter sun rise over thedreary marshes of the Thames and the long, sullen reaches of the river,which I shall ever associate with our pursuit of the Andaman Islanderin the earlier days of our career. After a long and weary journey wealighted at a small station some miles from Chatham. While a horse wasbeing put into a trap at the local inn we snatched a hurried breakfast,and so we were all ready for business when we at last arrived at YoxleyOld Place. A constable met us at the garden gate.
"Well, Wilson, any news?"
"No, sir, nothing."
"No reports of any stranger seen?"
"No, sir. Down at the station they are certain that no stranger eithercame or went yesterday."
"Have you had inquiries made at inns and lodgings?"
"Yes, sir; there is no one that we cannot account for."
"Well, it's only a reasonable walk to Chatham. Anyone might stay there,or take a train without being observed. This is the garden path ofwhich I spoke, Mr. Holmes. I'll pledge my word there was no mark on ityesterday."
"On which side were the marks on the grass?"
"This side, sir. This narrow margin of grass between the path and theflower-bed. I can't see the traces now, but they were clear to me then."
"Yes, yes; someone has passed along," said Holmes, stooping over thegrass border. "Our lady must have picked her steps carefully, must shenot, since on the one side she would leave a track on the path, and onthe other an even clearer one on the soft bed?"
"Yes, sir, she must have been a cool hand."
I saw an intent look pass over Holmes's face.
"You say that she must have come back this way?"
"Yes, sir; there is no other."
"On this strip of grass?"
"Certainly, Mr. Holmes."
"Hum! It was a very remarkable performance--very remarkable. Well, Ithink we have exhausted the path. Let us go farther. This garden door isusually kept open, I suppose? Then this visitor had nothing to do butto walk in. The idea of murder was not in her mind, or she would haveprovided herself with some sort of weapon, instead of having to pickthis knife off the writing-table. She advanced along this corridor,leaving no traces upon the cocoanut matting. Then she found herself inthis study. How long was she there? We have no means of judging."
"Not more than a few minutes, sir. I forgot to tell you that Mrs.Marker, the housekeeper, had been in there tidying not very longbefore--about a quarter of an hour, she says."
"Well, that gives us a limit. Our lady enters this room and what doesshe do? She goes over to the writing-table. What for? Not for anythingin the drawers. If there had been anything worth her taking it wouldsurely have been locked up. No; it was for something in that woodenbureau. Halloa! what is that scratch upon the face of it? Just hold amatch, Watson. Why did you not tell me of this, Hopkins?"
The mark which he was examining began upon the brass work on theright-hand side of the keyhole, and extended for about four inches,where it had scratched the varnish from the surface.
"I noticed it, Mr. Holmes. But you'll always find scratches round akeyhole."
"This is recent, quite recent. See how the brass shines where it iscut. An old scratch would be the same colour as the surface. Look at itthrough my lens. There's the varnish, too, like earth on each side of afurrow. Is Mrs. Marker there?"
A sad-faced, elderly woman came into the room.
"Did you dust this bureau yesterday morning?"
"Yes, sir."
"Did you notice this scratch?"
"No, sir, I did not."