Chapter VII The Episode of the Barrel

Thepolicehadbroughtacabwiththem,andinthisIescortedMissMorstanbacktoherhome.Aftertheangelicfashionofwomen,shehadbornetroublewithacalmfaceaslongastherewassomeoneweakerthanherselftosupport,andIhadfoundherbrightandplacidbythesideofthefrightenedhousekeeper.Inthecab,however,shefirstturnedfaint,andthenburstintoapassionofweeping,—sosorelyhadshebeentriedbytheadventuresofthenight.Shehastoldmesincethatshethoughtmecoldanddistantuponthatjourney.Shelittleguessedthestrugglewithinmybreast,ortheeffortofself-restraintwhichheldmeback.Mysympathiesandmylovewentouttoher,evenasmyhandhadinthegarden.Ifeltthatyearsoftheconventionalitiesoflifecouldnotteachmetoknowhersweet,bravenatureashadthisonedayofstrangeexperiences.Yetthereweretwothoughtswhichsealedthewordsofaffectionuponmylips.Shewasweakandhelpless,shakeninmindandnerve.Itwastotakeheratadisadvantagetoobtrudeloveuponheratsuchatime.Worsestill,shewasrich.IfHolmes’sresearchesweresuccessful,shewouldbeanheiress.Wasitfair,wasithonourable,thatahalf-paysurgeonshouldtakesuchadvantageofanintimacywhichchancehadbroughtabout?Mightshenotlookuponmeasamerevulgarfortune-seeker?Icouldnotbeartoriskthatsuchathoughtshouldcrosshermind.ThisAgratreasureintervenedlikeanimpassablebarrierbetweenus. Itwasnearlytwoo’clockwhenwereachedMrs.CecilForrester’s.Theservantshadretiredhoursago,butMrs.ForresterhadbeensointerestedbythestrangemessagewhichMissMorstanhadreceivedthatshehadsatupinthehopeofherreturn.Sheopenedthedoorherself,amiddle-aged,gracefulwoman,anditgavemejoytoseehowtenderlyherarmstoleroundtheother’swaistandhowmotherlywasthevoiceinwhichshegreetedher.Shewasclearlynomerepaiddependant,butanhonouredfriend.Iwasintroduced,andMrs.Forresterearnestlybeggedmetostepinandtellherouradventures.Iexplained,however,theimportanceofmyerrand,andpromisedfaithfullytocallandreportanyprogresswhichwemightmakewiththecase.AswedroveawayIstoleaglanceback,andIstillseemtoseethatlittlegrouponthestep,thetwograceful,clingingfigures,thehalf-openeddoor,thehall-lightshiningthroughstainedglass,thebarometer,andthebrightstair-rods.ItwassoothingtocatcheventhatpassingglimpseofatranquilEnglishhomeinthemidstofthewild,darkbusinesswhichhadabsorbedus. AndthemoreIthoughtofwhathadhappened,thewilderanddarkeritgrew.IreviewedthewholeextraordinarysequenceofeventsasIrattledonthroughthesilentgas-litstreets.Therewastheoriginalproblem:thatatleastwasprettyclearnow.ThedeathofCaptainMorstan,thesendingofthepearls,theadvertisement,theletter,—wehadhadlightuponallthoseevents.Theyhadonlyledus,however,toadeeperandfarmoretragicmystery.TheIndiantreasure,thecuriousplanfoundamongMorstan’sbaggage,thestrangesceneatMajorSholto’sdeath,therediscoveryofthetreasureimmediatelyfollowedbythemurderofthediscoverer,theverysingularaccompanimentstothecrime,thefootsteps,theremarkableweapons,thewordsuponthecard,correspondingwiththoseuponCaptainMorstan’schart,—herewasindeedalabyrinthinwhichamanlesssingularlyendowedthanmyfellow-lodgermightwelldespairofeverfindingtheclue. PinchinLanewasarowofshabbytwo-storiedbrickhousesinthelowerquarterofLambeth.IhadtoknockforsometimeatNo.3beforeIcouldmakemyimpression.Atlast,however,therewastheglintofacandlebehindtheblind,andafacelookedoutattheupperwindow. “Goon,youdrunkenvagabone,”saidtheface.“IfyoukickupanymorerowI’llopenthekennelsandletoutforty-threedogsuponyou.” “Ifyou’llletoneoutit’sjustwhatIhavecomefor,”saidI. “Goon!”yelledthevoice.“Sohelpmegracious,Ihaveawiperinthebag,an’I’lldropitonyour’eadifyoudon’thookit.” “ButIwantadog,”Icried. “Iwon’tbearguedwith!”shoutedMr.Sherman.“Nowstandclear,forwhenIsay‘three,’downgoesthewiper.” “Mr.SherlockHolmes—”Ibegan,butthewordshadamostmagicaleffect,forthewindowinstantlyslammeddown,andwithinaminutethedoorwasunbarredandopen.Mr.Shermanwasalanky,leanoldman,withstoopingshoulders,astringyneck,andblue-tintedglasses. “AfriendofMr.Sherlockisalways