White Fire

“I am not referring to the wolf. I am referring to the affectionate relationship between Sir Percival and his son.”

This non sequitur stopped me in my tracks. “I’m afraid I don’t see what you’re driving at, Holmes. From my perspective, the relationship seems anything but affectionate — at least, with regard to the father’s callous unconcern for his son’s life and safety.”

Holmes puffed at his pipe. “Yes,” he replied enigmatically. “And that is the mystery.”

Being now rather closer to Aspern Hall than to Hexham, and having had our transportation commandeered by the magistrate, we made our way down the road to the Hall, arriving there in just under an hour. We were met by Sir Percival and his son, who had just finished breakfasting. The news of the latest attack had not yet reached them, and almost immediately the estate was thrown into an uproar. Young Edwin stated his intention of setting out directly to track the beast, but Holmes counselled him against it: in the wake of this latest attack, the animal had no doubt retreated to his lair.

Next, Holmes asked Sir Percival if he could have the use of his brougham; it was his intention to ride into Hexham without delay and catch the first train to London.

Sir Percival expressed astonishment but gave his consent. Whilst the coach was being called for, Holmes glanced in my direction and suggested we take a stroll round the garden.

“I think you should ride into Hexham with me, Watson,” he said. “Gather up your things from The Plough and then return here to Aspern Hall for the night.”

“What on earth for?” I ejaculated.

“Unless I am much mistaken, I will be returning from London perhaps as soon as tomorrow,” he said. “And when I do, I shall bring with me the confirmation I seek as to the riddle of this vicious beast.”

“Why, Holmes!”

“But until then, Watson, your life remains at grave risk. You must promise me that you will not leave the Hall until I return — not even for a turn about the grounds.”

“I say, Holmes—”

“I insist upon it. In this matter I shall not give way. Do not leave the main house — especially after dark.”

Although this request seemed eccentric in the last degree — especially given the fact that Holmes believed the much more aggressive Edwin Aspern to be in no danger — I relented. “I must say, old man, that I don’t see how you can be so certain of solving the case,” I told him. “The wolf is here in Hexham — not in London. Unless you are planning to return with a brace of heavy-calibre rifles, I confess that in this matter I see nothing.”

“Quite the contrary — you see everything,” Holmes retorted. “You must be bolder in drawing your inferences, Watson.” But just at that moment there was a clatter of horseshoes on the gravel drive and the brougham drew up.

I spent a dreary day at Aspern Hall. A wind came up, followed by rain: light at first, then rather heavier. There was little to do, so I occupied the hours with reading a day-old copy of The Times, jotting in my diary, and glancing through the books in Sir Percival’s extensive library. I saw nobody but servants until dinner. During that meal, Edwin declared his intent of going out again that very evening in search of the wolf. Miss Selkirk, who was by now naturally even more concerned for her fiance’s well-being, protested violently. There was an ugly scene. Edwin, though not unmoved by Miss Selkirk’s objections, remained determined. Sir Percival, for his part, was clearly proud of his son’s courage and — when confronted by his daughter-in-law-to-be — defended himself with talk of the family honour and the high approval of the countryside. After Edwin had left, I took it upon myself to stay with Miss Selkirk and try to draw her into conversation. It was a difficult business, given her state of mind, and I was heartily glad when — at around half past eleven — I heard Edwin’s footsteps echoing in the Hall. He had again been unsuccessful in the hunt, but at least he was safely returned.

It was very late the following afternoon when Sherlock Holmes reappeared. He had wired ahead to have Sir Percival’s brougham meet him at the Hexham station, and he arrived at the Hall in high spirits. Holmes had brought the magistrate and the town doctor with him, and he wasted no time in assembling the family and servants of the Hall.

When all were settled, Holmes announced that he had solved the case. This caused no end of consternation and questioning, and Edwin demanded to know what he meant by “solving” the case when everyone knew the culprit was a wolf. Holmes refused to be sounded further on the matter. Despite the late hour, he explained, he would return to his rooms at The Plough, where he had certain critical notes on the case, in order to put his conclusions into order. He had made use of the carriage ride to confer with the magistrate and the doctor, and had only come out to the Hall in order to bring me back to town with him to assist with the final details. Tomorrow, he declared, he would make his conclusions public.

Towards the end of this little speech, a coachman came in to make known that the rear axle of Sir Percival’s carriage had broken and could not be repaired until morning. There was no way that Holmes — or the magistrate or town doctor, for that matter — could return to Hexham until the following day. There was nothing for it; they would all have to spend the night at Aspern Hall.

Holmes was dreadfully put out by this development. During almost the entire dinner that followed he said not a word, a peevish expression on his face, morosely pushing the food on his plate idly about with his fork, one elbow lodged on the damask tablecloth in support of his narrow chin. Just as dessert was served, he announced his intention of walking back to Hexham.

“But that’s out of the question,” said Sir Percival in astonishment. “It’s over ten miles.”

“I shan’t be taking the road,” Holmes replied. “It’s far too indirect. I shall make my way from Aspern Hall to Hexham in a direct line, as the crow flies.”

“But that will take you right past the blanket bog,” Miss Selkirk said. “Where…” She fell silent.

“I will accompany you, then,” Edwin Aspern spoke up.

“You shall do nothing of the sort. The wolf’s most recent attack occurred just the night before last, and I doubt its hunger will have returned so soon. No; I shall undertake the trip on my own. Watson, once I reach Hexham I will leave word for the wagonette to come for you and the others in the morning.”

And so the matter was settled — or so I thought. Shortly after the men had passed into the library for brandy and cigars, however, Holmes took me aside.

“Look here,” he told me sotto voce. “As soon as you are able to effect it successfully, you will contrive to sneak out of the house, making sure your departure is undetected. That point is most vital, Watson — you must leave undetected. Remember that, for the time being, you remain in grave danger.”

Despite my surprise, I assured Holmes that I was his man.

“You are to make your way unobserved to the vicinity of that small hillock where we found Constable Frazier. Find a suitable hiding spot from which no approach can reveal your position — not the bog, not the forest, not the road. Be sure to be in position no later than ten o’clock. And there you are to wait for me to pass by.”

I nodded my understanding.

“When I come into sight, however, under no circumstances are you to call out, or stand, or in any manner betray your presence.”

“Then what am I to do, Holmes?”

“Depend upon it — when it comes time to act, you shall know. Now: do you still have your pistol about you?”

I patted my waistcoat pocket, where my Webley had been in residence ever since we had arrived at the Hall the previous day.

My friend nodded his satisfaction. “Excellent. Keep it close at hand.”

“And you, Holmes?”

“I myself will spend some time here before I take my leave, engaging young Aspern in conversation, billiards, or whatever proves necessary to distract him. It is vital that he not indulge his penchant for wolf-hunting, tonight of all nights.”

Accordingly, I bided my time, waiting until the gentlemen were engrossed in a game of whist. Then, retiring to my room, I retrieved my cap and travelling coat, and — making sure I was observed by neither family nor servants — I left the house by way of the French doors of the morning room, slipped across the lawn, and from