Chapter IV The Story of the Bald-Headed Man

uropinion. “Earlyin1882myfatherreceivedaletterfromIndiawhichwasagreatshocktohim.Henearlyfaintedatthebreakfast-tablewhenheopenedit,andfromthatdayhesickenedtohisdeath.Whatwasintheletterwecouldneverdiscover,butIcouldseeashehelditthatitwasshortandwritteninascrawlinghand.Hehadsufferedforyearsfromanenlargedspleen,buthenowbecamerapidlyworse,andtowardstheendofAprilwewereinformedthathewasbeyondallhope,andthathewishedtomakealastcommunicationtous. “Whenweenteredhisroomhewasproppedupwithpillowsandbreathingheavily.Hebesoughtustolockthedoorandtocomeuponeithersideofthebed.Then,graspingourhands,hemadearemarkablestatementtous,inavoicewhichwasbrokenasmuchbyemotionasbypain.Ishalltryandgiveittoyouinhisownverywords. “‘Ihaveonlyonething,’hesaid,‘whichweighsuponmymindatthissuprememoment.ItismytreatmentofpoorMorstan’sorphan.Thecursedgreedwhichhasbeenmybesettingsinthroughlifehaswithheldfromherthetreasure,halfatleastofwhichshouldhavebeenhers.AndyetIhavemadenouseofitmyself,—soblindandfoolishathingisavarice.ThemerefeelingofpossessionhasbeensodeartomethatIcouldnotbeartoshareitwithanother.Seethatchapletdippedwithpearlsbesidethequinine-bottle.EventhatIcouldnotbeartopartwith,althoughIhadgotitoutwiththedesignofsendingittoher.You,mysons,willgiveherafairshareoftheAgratreasure.Butsendhernothing—noteventhechaplet—untilIamgone.Afterall,menhavebeenasbadasthisandhaverecovered. “‘IwilltellyouhowMorstandied,’hecontinued.‘Hehadsufferedforyearsfromaweakheart,butheconcealeditfromeveryone.Ialoneknewit.WheninIndia,heandI,througharemarkablechainofcircumstances,cameintopossessionofaconsiderabletreasure.IbroughtitovertoEngland,andonthenightofMorstan’sarrivalhecamestraightoverheretoclaimhisshare.Hewalkedoverfromthestation,andwasadmittedbymyfaithfuloldLalChowdar,whoisnowdead.MorstanandIhadadifferenceofopinionastothedivisionofthetreasure,andwecametoheatedwords.Morstanhadsprungoutofhischairinaparoxysmofanger,whenhesuddenlypressedhishandtohisside,hisfaceturnedaduskyhue,andhefellbackwards,cuttinghisheadagainstthecornerofthetreasure-chest.WhenIstoopedoverhimIfound,tomyhorror,thathewasdead. “‘ForalongtimeIsathalfdistracted,wonderingwhatIshoulddo.Myfirstimpulsewas,ofcourse,tocallforassistancebutIcouldnotbutrecognisethattherewaseverychancethatIwouldbeaccusedofhismurder.Hisdeathatthemomentofaquarrel,andthegashinhishead,wouldbeblackagainstme.Again,anofficialinquirycouldnotbemadewithoutbringingoutsomefactsaboutthetreasure,whichIwasparticularlyanxioustokeepsecret.Hehadtoldmethatnosouluponearthknewwherehehadgone.Thereseemedtobenonecessitywhyanysoulevershouldknow. “‘Iwasstillponderingoverthematter,when,lookingup,Isawmyservant,LalChowdar,inthedoorway.Hestoleinandboltedthedoorbehindhim.“Donotfear,Sahib,”hesaid.“Nooneneedknowthatyouhavekilledhim.Letushidehimaway,andwhoisthewiser?”“Ididnotkillhim,”saidI.LalChowdarshookhisheadandsmiled.“Ihearditall,Sahib,”saidhe.“Iheardyouquarrel,andIheardtheblow.Butmylipsaresealed.Allareasleepinthehouse.Letusputhimawaytogether.”Thatwasenoughtodecideme.Ifmyownservantcouldnotbelievemyinnocence,howcouldIhopetomakeitgoodbeforetwelvefoolishtradesmeninajury-box?LalChowdarandIdisposedofthebodythatnight,andwithinafewdaystheLondonpaperswerefullofthemysteriousdisappearanceofCaptainMorstan.YouwillseefromwhatIsaythatIcanhardlybeblamedinthematter.Myfaultliesinthefactthatweconcealednotonlythebody,butalsothetreasure,andthatIhaveclungtoMorstan’sshareaswellastomyown.I