The Exploits of Sherlock Holmes

'Holmes,' cried I, 'this is too much. How could you possibly know this?'

'How, indeed?' echoed the young lady.

'I see it, I observe it. The travelling-case, though far from new, is neither worn nor battered by travel. Yet I need not insult your intelligence by calling attention to the paper label of the Hotel Splendide, at Grindelwald in Switzerland, which has been affixed with gum to the side of the case.'

'But the other point?' I insisted.

'The lady's attire, though in impeccable taste, is neither new nor costly. Yet she has stayed at the best hotel in Grindelwald, and she arrives in a carriage of the well-to-do. Since her own initials, 'C.F.,' do not match the 'M.' on the carriage-panel, we may assume her to occupy a position of equality in some well-to-do family. Her youth precludes the position of governess, and we are left with a lady's companion. As for the man who has engaged her affections, her blushes and lowered eyelids proclaim as much. Absurd, is it not?'

'But it is true, Mr. Holmes!' cried our visitor, clasping her hands together in even deeper agitation. 'My name is Celia Forsythe, and for over a year I have been companion to Lady Mayo, of Groxton Low Hall, in Surrey. Charles —'

'Charles? That is the name of the gentleman in ques­tion?'

Miss Forsythe nodded her head without looking up.

'If I hesitate to speak of him,' she continued, 'it is because I fear you may laugh at me. I fear you may think me mad; or, worse still, that poor Charles himself is mad.'

'And why should I think so, Miss Forsythe?'

'Mr. Holmes, he cannot endure the sight of a clock!'

'Of a clock?'

'In the past fortnight, sir, and for no explicable reason, he has destroyed seven clocks. Two of them he smashed in public, and before my own eyes!'

Sherlock Holmes rubbed his long, thin fingers together.

'Come,' said he, 'this is most satis—most curious. Pray continue your narrative.'

'I despair of doing so, Mr. Holmes. Yet I will try. For the past year I have been very happy in the employ of Lady Mayo. I must tell you that both my parents are dead, but I received a good education and such references as I could obtain were fortunately satisfactory. Lady Mayo, I must acknowledge, is of somewhat forbidding appearance. She is of the old school, stately and austere. Yet to me she has been kindness itself. In fact, it was she who suggested that we take the holiday in Switzer­land, fearing that the isolation of Groxton Low Hall might depress my spirits. In the train between Paris and Grindelwald we met—met Charles. I should say Mr. Charles Hendon.'

Holmes had relapsed into the arm-chair, putting his finger-tips together as was his wont when he was in a judicial mood.

'Then this was the first time you had met the gentle­man?' he asked.

'Oh, yes!'

'I see. And how did the acquaintanceship come about?'

'A trifling matter, Mr. Holmes. We three were alone in a first-class carriage. Charles's manners are so beautiful, his voice so fine, his smile so captivating—'

'No doubt. But pray be precise as to details.'

Miss Forsythe opened wide her large blue eyes.

'I believe it was the window,' said she. 'Charles (I may tell you that he has remarkable eyes and a heavy brown moustache) bowed and requested Lady Mayo's permission to lower the window. She assented, and in a few moments they were chatting together like old friends.'

'H'm! I see.'

'Lady Mayo, in turn, presented me to Charles. The journey to Grindelwald passed quickly and happily. And yet, no sooner had we entered the foyer of the Hotel Splendide, than there occurred the first of the horrible shocks which have since made my life wretched.

'Despite its name, the hotel proved to be rather small and charming. Even then, I knew Mr. Hendon for a man of some importance, though he had described himself modestly as a single gentleman travelling with only one manservant. The manager of the hotel, M. Branger, ap­proached and bowed deeply both to Lady Mayo and to Mr. Hendon. With M. Branger he exchanged some words in a low voice and the manager bowed deeply again. Whereupon Charles turned round, smiling, and then quite suddenly his whole demeanour altered.

'I can still see him standing there, in his long coat and top hat, with a heavy malacca walking-stick under his arm. His back was turned towards an ornamental half-circle of ferns and evergreens surrounding a fireplace with a low mantelshelf on which stood a Swiss clock of ex­quisite design.

'Up to this time I had not even observed the clock. But Charles, uttering a stifled cry, rushed towards the fireplace. Lifting the heavy walking-stick, he brought it crashing down on the hood of the clock, and rained blow after blow until the clock fell in tinkling ruins on the hearth.

'Then he turned round and walked slowly back. With­out a word of explanation he took out a pocketbook, gave to M. Branger a bank-note which would ten times over have paid for the clock, and began lightly to speak of other matters.

'You may well imagine, Mr. Holmes, that we stood as though stunned. My impression was that Lady Mayo, for all her dignity, was frightened. Yet I swear Charles had not been frightened; he had been merely furious and determined. At this point I caught sight of Charles's manservant, who was standing in the background amid luggage. He is a small,  spare man with mutton-chop whiskers; and upon his face there was an expression only of embarrassment and, though it hurts me to breathe the word, of deep shame.

'No word was spoken at the time, and the incident was forgotten. For two days Charles was his usual serene self. On the third morning, when we met him in the dining-room for breakfast, it happened again.

'The windows of the dining-room had their heavy cur­tains partly drawn against the dazzle of sun on the first snow. The room was fairly well filled with other guests taking breakfast. Only then did I remark that Charles, who had just returned from a morning walk, still carried the malacca stick in his hand.

' 'Breathe this air, madame!' he was saying gaily to Lady Mayo. 'You will find it as invigorating as any food or drink!'

'At this he paused, and glanced towards one of the windows. Plunging past us, he struck heavily at the cur­ tain and then tore it aside to disclose the ruins of a large clock shaped like a smiling sun-face. I think I should have fainted if Lady Mayo had not grasped my arm.'

Miss Forsythe, who had removed her gloves, now pressed her hands against her cheeks.

'But not only does Charles smash clocks,' she went on. 'He buries them in the snow, and even hides them in the cupboard of his own room.'

Sherlock Holmes had been leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, and his head sunk into a cushion, but he now half opened his lids.

'In the cupboard?' exclaimed he, frowning. 'This is even more singular! How did you become aware of the circumstance?'

'To my shame, Mr. Holmes, I was reduced to ques­tioning his servant.'

'To your shame?'

'I had no right to do so. In my humble position, Charles would never—that is, I could mean nothing to him! I had no right!'

'You had every right, Miss Forsythe,' answered Holmes kindly. 'Then you questioned the servant, whom you describe as a small, spare man with muttonchop whiskers. His name?'

'His name is Trepley, I believe. More than once I have heard Charles address him as 'Trep.' And I vow, Mr. Holmes, he is the faithfullest creature alive. Even the sight of his dogged English face was a comfort to me. He knew, he felt, he sensed my—my interest, and he told me that his master had buried or concealed five other clocks. Though he refused to say so, I could tell he shared my fears. Yet Charles is not mad! He is not! You yourself must admit that, because of the final incident.'

'Yes?'

'It took place only four days ago. You must know that Lady Mayo's suite included a small drawing-room containing a piano. I am passionately devoted to music, and it was my habit to play to Lady Mayo and Charles after tea. On this occasion I had scarcely begun to play when a hotel servant entered with a letter for Charles.'

'One moment. Did you observe the postmark?'