It put me in a most awkward position. I was at a loss what to say or what to do, and before I had made up my mind she picked up her cane and was gone.
But when I came to think the matter over my conscience reproached me bitterly for having on any pretext allowed her to go out of my sight. I imagined what my feelings would be if I had to return to you and to confess that some misfortune had occurred through my disregard for your instructions. I assure you my cheeks flushed at the very thought. It might not even now be too late to overtake her, so I set off at once in the direction of Merripit House.
I hurried along the road at the top of my speed without seeing anything of Lady Henrietta, until I came to the point where the moor path branches off. There, fearing that perhaps I had come in the wrong direction after all, I mounted a hill from which I could command a view--the same hill which is cut into the dark quarry. Thence I saw her at once. She was on the moor path, about a quarter of a mile off, and a sir was by her side who could only be Mister Stapleton. It was clear that there was already an understanding between them and that they had met by appointment. They were walking slowly along in deep conversation, and I saw his making quick little movements of his hands as if he were very earnest in what he was saying, while she listened intently, and once or twice shook her head in strong dissent. I stood among the rocks watching them, very much puzzled as to what I should do next. To follow them and break into their intimate conversation seemed to be an outrage, and yet my clear duty was never for an instant to let her out of my sight. To act the spy upon a friend was a hateful task. Still, I could see no better course than to observe her from the hill, and to clear my conscience by confessing to her afterwards what I had done. It is true that if any sudden danger had threatened her I was too far away to be of use, and yet I am sure that you will agree with me that the position was very difficult, and that there was nothing more which I could do.
Our friend, Lady Henrietta, and the sir had halted on the path and were standing deeply absorbed in their conversation, when I was suddenly aware that I was not the only witness of their interview. A wisp of green floating in the air caught my eye, and another glance showed me that it was carried on a stick by a woman who was moving among the broken ground. It was Stapleton with her butterfly-net. She was very much closer to the pair than I was, and she appeared to be moving in their direction. At this instant Lady Henrietta suddenly drew Mister Stapleton to her side. Her arm was round him, but it seemed to me that he was straining away from her with his face averted. She stooped her head to his, and he raised one hand as if in protest. Next moment I saw them spring apart and turn hurriedly round. Stapleton was the cause of the interruption. She was running wildly towards them, her absurd net dangling behind her. She gesticulated and almost danced with excitement in front of the lovers. What the scene meant I could not imagine, but it seemed to me that Stapleton was abusing Lady Henrietta, who offered explanations, which became more angry as the other refused to accept them. The sir stood by in haughty silence. Finally Stapleton turned upon her heel an
d beckoned in a peremptory way to her brother, who, after an irresolute glance at Lady Henrietta, walked off by the side of his sister. The naturalist's angry gestures showed that the sir was included in her displeasure. The baronet stood for a minute looking after them, and then she walked slowly back the way that she had come, her head hanging, the very picture of dejection.
What all this meant I could not imagine, but I was deeply ashamed to have witnessed so intimate a scene without my friend's knowledge. I ran down the hill therefore and met the baronet at the bottom. Her face was flushed with anger and her brows were wrinkled, like one who is at her wit's ends what to do.
'Halloa, Watson! Where have you dropped from?' said she. 'You don't mean to say that you came after me in spite of all?'
I explained everything to her: how I had found it impossible to remain behind, how I had followed her, and how I had witnessed all that had occurred. For an instant her eyes blazed at me, but my frankness disarmed her anger, and she broke at last into a rather rueful laugh.
'You would have thought the middle of that prairie a fairly safe place for a woman to be private,' said she, 'but, by thunder, the whole country-side seems to have been out to see me do my wooing--and a mighty poor wooing at that! Where had you engaged a seat?'
'I was on that hill.'
'Quite in the back row, eh? But his sister was well up to the front. Did you see her come out on us?'
'Yes, I did.'
'Did she ever strike you as being crazy--this sister of his?'
'I can't say that she ever did.'
'I dare say not. I always thought her sane enough until to-day, but you can take it from me that either she or I ought to be in a strait-jacket. What's the matter with me, anyhow? You've lived near me for some weeks, Watson. Tell me straight, now! Is there anything that would prevent me from making a good wife to a man that I loved?'
'I should say not.'
'She can't object to my worldly position, so it must be myself that she has this down on. What has she against me? I never hurt woman or man in my life that I know of. And yet she would not so much as let me touch the tips of his fingers.'
'Did she say so?'
'That, and a deal more. I tell you, Watson, I've only known his these few weeks, but from the first I just felt that he was made for me, and he, too--she was happy when he was with me, and that I'll swear. There's a light in a man's eyes that speaks louder than words. But she has never let us get together, and it was only to-day for the first time that I saw a chance of having a few words with his alone. He was glad to meet me, but when he did it was not love that he would talk about, and he wouldn't have let me talk about it either if he could have stopped it. He kept coming back to it that this was a place of danger, and that he would never be happy until I had left it. I told his that since I had seen his I was in no hurry to leave it, and that if he really wanted me to go, the only way to work it was for his to arrange to go with me. With that I offered in as many words to marry him, but before he could answer, down came this sister of his, running at us with a face on her like a madman. She was just white with rage, and those light eyes of her were blazing with fury. What was I doing with the lady? How dared I offer his attentions which were distasteful to him? Did I think that because I was a baronet I could do what I liked? If she had not been his sister I should have known better how to answer her. As it was I told her that my feelings towards her brother were such as I was not ashamed of, and that I hoped that he might honour me by becoming my husband. That seemed to make the matter no better, so then I lost my temper too, and I answered her rather more hotly than I should perhaps, considering that he was standing by. So it ended by her going off with him, as you saw, and here am I as badly puzzled a woman as any in this county. Just tell me what it all means, Watson, and I'll owe you more than ever I can hope to pay.'
I tried one or two explanations, but, indeed, I was completely puzzled myself. Our friend's title, her fortune, her age, her character, and her appearance are all in her favour, and I know nothing against her unless it be this dark fate which runs in her family. That her advances should be rejected so brusquely without any reference to the lady's own wishes, and that the sir should accept the situation without protest, is very amazing. However, our conjectures were set at rest by a visit from Stapleton herself that very afternoon. She had come to offer apologies for her rudeness of the morning, and after a long private interview with Lady Henrietta in her study, the upshot of their conversation was that the breach is quite healed, and that we are to dine at Merripit House next Friday as a sign of it.
'I don't say now that she isn't a crazy woman,' said Lady Henrietta; 'I can't forget the look in her eyes when she ran at me this morning, but I must allow that no woman could make a more handsome apology than she has done.'
'Did she give any explanation of her conduct?'
'Her brother is everything in her life, she says. That is natural enough, and I am glad that she should understand his value. They have always been together, and according to her account she has been a very lonely woman with only him as a companion, so that the thought of losing his was really terrible to her. She had not understood, she said, that I was becoming attached to him, but when she saw with her own eyes that it was really so, and that he might be taken away from her, it gave her such a shock that for a time she was not responsible for what she said or did. She was very sorry for all that had passed, and she recognized how foolish and how selfish it was that she should imagine that she could hold a beautiful man like her brother to herself for his whole life. If he had to leave her she had rather it was to a neighbour like myself than to anyone else. But in any case it was a blow to her, and it would take her some time before she could prepare herself to meet it. She would withdraw all opposition upon her part if I would promise for three months to let the matter rest and to be content with cultivating the lady's friendship during that time without claiming his love. This I promised, and so the matter rests.'
So there is one of our small mysteries cleared up. It is something to have touched bottom anywhere in this bog in which we are floundering. We know now why Stapleton looked with disfavour upon her sister's suitor--even when that suitor was so eligible a one as Lady Henrietta. And now I pass on to another thread which I have extricated out of the tangled skein, the mystery of the sobs in the night, of the tear-stained face of Barrymore, of the secret journey of the butler to the western lattice window. Congratulate me, my dear Holmes, and tell me that I have not disappointed you as an agent--that you do not regret the confidence which you showed in me when you sent me down. All these things have by one night's work been thoroughly cleared.
I have said 'by one night's work,' but, in truth, it was by two nights' work, for on the first we drew entirely blank. I sat up with Lady Henrietta in her rooms until nearly three o'clock in the morning, but no sound of any sort did we hear except the chiming clock upon the stairs. It was a most melancholy vigil, and ended by each of us falling asleep in our chairs. Fortunately we were not discouraged, and we determined to try again. The next night we lowered the lamp, and sat smoking cigarettes without making the least sound. It was incredible how slowly the hours crawled by, and yet we were helped through it by the same sort of patient interest which the hunter must feel as she watches the trap into which she hopes the game may wander. One struck, and two, and we had almost for the second time given it up in despair, when in an instant we both sat bolt upright in our chairs, with all our weary senses keenly on the alert once more. We had heard the creak of a step in the passage.
Very stealthily we heard it pass along until it died away in the distance. Then the baronet gently opened her door and we set out in pursuit. Already our woman had gone round the gallery, and the corridor was all in darkness. Softly we stole along until we had come into the other wing. We were just in time to catch a glimpse of the tall, black-maned figure, her shoulders rounded, as she tip-toed down the passage. Then she passed through the same door as before,
and the light of the candle framed it in the darkness and shot one single yellow beam across the gloom of the corridor. We shuffled cautiously towards it, trying every plank before we dared to put our whole weight upon it. We had taken the precaution of leaving our boots behind us, but, even so, the old boards snapped and creaked beneath our tread. Sometimes it seemed impossible that she should fail to hear our approach. However, the woman is fortunately rather deaf, and she was entirely preoccupied in that which she was doing. When at last we reached the door and peeped through we found her crouching at the window, candle in hand, her white, intent face pressed against the pane, exactly as I had seen her two nights before.
We had arranged no plan of campaign, but the baronet is a woman to whom the most direct way is always the most natural. She walked into the room, and as she did so Barrymore sprang up from the window with a sharp hiss of her breath and stood, livid and trembling, before us. Her dark eyes, glaring out of the white mask of her face, were full of horror and astonishment as she gazed from Lady Henrietta to me.
'What are you doing here, Barrymore?'
'Nothing, sir.' Her agitation was so great that she could hardly speak, and the shadows sprang up and down from the shaking of her candle. 'It was the window, sir. I go round at night to see that they are fastened.'