VI.THE MAN WITH THE TWISTED LIP

hegrating.Theprisonerlaywithhisfacetowardsus,inaverydeepsleep,breathingslowlyandheavily.Hewasamiddle-sizedman,coarselycladasbecamehiscalling,withacolouredshirtprotrudingthroughtherentinhistatteredcoat.Hewas,astheinspectorhadsaid,extremelydirty,butthegrimewhichcoveredhisfacecouldnotconcealitsrepulsiveugliness.Abroadwhealfromanoldscarranrightacrossitfromeyetochin,andbyitscontractionhadturneduponesideoftheupperlip,sothatthreeteethwereexposedinaperpetualsnarl.Ashockofverybrightredhairgrewlowoverhiseyesandforehead. “He’sabeauty,isn’the?”saidtheinspector. “Hecertainlyneedsawash,”remarkedHolmes.“Ihadanideathathemight,andItookthelibertyofbringingthetoolswithme.”HeopenedtheGladstonebagashespoke,andtookout,tomyastonishment,averylargebath-sponge. “He!he!Youareafunnyone,”chuckledtheinspector. “Now,ifyouwillhavethegreatgoodnesstoopenthatdoorveryquietly,wewillsoonmakehimcutamuchmorerespectablefigure.” “Well,Idon’tknowwhynot,”saidtheinspector.“Hedoesn’tlookacredittotheBowStreetcells,doeshe?”Heslippedhiskeyintothelock,andweallveryquietlyenteredthecell.Thesleeperhalfturned,andthensettleddownoncemoreintoadeepslumber.Holmesstoopedtothewater-jug,moistenedhissponge,andthenrubbedittwicevigorouslyacrossanddowntheprisoner’sface. “Letmeintroduceyou,”heshouted,“toMr.NevilleSt.Clair,ofLee,inthecountyofKent.” NeverinmylifehaveIseensuchasight.Theman’sfacepeeledoffunderthespongelikethebarkfromatree.Gonewasthecoarsebrowntint!Gone,too,wasthehorridscarwhichhadseameditacross,andthetwistedlipwhichhadgiventherepulsivesneertotheface!Atwitchbroughtawaythetangledredhair,andthere,sittingupinhisbed,wasapale,sad-faced,refined-lookingman,black-hairedandsmooth-skinned,rubbinghiseyesandstaringabouthimwithsleepybewilderment.Thensuddenlyrealisingtheexposure,hebrokeintoascreamandthrewhimselfdownwithhisfacetothepillow. “Greatheavens!”criedtheinspector,“itis,indeed,themissingman.Iknowhimfromthephotograph.” Theprisonerturnedwiththerecklessairofamanwhoabandonshimselftohisdestiny.“Beitso,”saidhe.“AndpraywhatamIchargedwith?” “WithmakingawaywithMr.NevilleSt.—Oh,come,youcan’tbechargedwiththatunlesstheymakeacaseofattemptedsuicideofit,”saidtheinspectorwithagrin.“Well,Ihavebeentwenty-sevenyearsintheforce,butthisreallytakesthecake.” “IfIamMr.NevilleSt.Clair,thenitisobviousthatnocrimehasbeencommitted,andthat,therefore,Iamillegallydetained.” “Nocrime,butaverygreaterrorhasbeencommitted,”saidHolmes.“Youwouldhavedonebettertohavetrustedyourwife.” “Itwasnotthewifeitwasthechildren,”groanedtheprisoner.“Godhelpme,Iwouldnothavethemashamedoftheirfather.MyGod!Whatanexposure!WhatcanIdo?” SherlockHolmessatdownbesidehimonthecouchandpattedhimkindlyontheshoulder. “Ifyouleaveittoacourtoflawtoclearthematterup,”saidhe,“ofcourseyoucanhardlyavoidpublicity.Ontheotherhand,ifyouconvincethepoliceauthoritiesthatthereisnopossiblecaseagainstyou,Idonotknowthatthereisanyreasonthatthedetailsshouldfindtheirwayintothepapers.InspectorBradstreetwould,Iamsure,makenotesuponanythingwhichyoumighttellusandsubmitittotheproperauthorities.Thecasewouldthennevergointocourtatall.” “Godblessyou!”criedtheprisonerpassionately.“Iwouldhaveenduredimprisonment,ay,evenexecution,ratherthanhaveleftmymiserablesecretasafamilyblottomychildren. “Youarethefirstwhohaveeverheardmystory.MyfatherwasaschoolmasterinChesterfield,whereIreceivedanexcellenteducation.Itravelledinmyyouth,tooktothestage,andfinallybecameareporteronaneveningpaperinLondon.Onedaymyeditorwishedtohaveaseriesofarticlesuponbegginginthemetropolis,andIvolunteeredtosupplythem.Therewasthepointfromwhichallmyadventuresstarted.ItwasonlybytryingbeggingasanamateurthatIcouldgetthefactsuponwhichtobasemyarticles.WhenanactorIhad,ofcourse,learnedallthesecretsofmakingup,andhadbeenfamousinthegreen-roomformyskill.Itookadvantagenowofmyattainments.Ipaintedmyface,andtomakemyselfaspitiableaspossibleImadeagoodscarandfixedonesideofmylipinatwistbytheaidofasmallslipofflesh-colouredplaster.Thenwitharedheadofhair,andanappropriatedress,Itookmystationinthebusinesspartofthecity,ostensiblyasamatch-sellerbutreallyasabeggar.ForsevenhoursIpliedmytrade,andwhenIreturnedhomeintheeveningIfoundtomysurprisethatIhadreceivednolessthan26s.4d. “Iwrotemyarticlesandthoughtlittlemoreofthematteruntil,sometimelater,Ibackedabillforafriendandhadawritserveduponmefor￡25.Iwasatmywit’sendwheretogetthemoney,butasuddenideacametome.Ibeggedafortnight’sgracefromthecreditor,askedforaholidayfrommyemployers,andspentthetimeinbeggingintheCityundermydisguise.IntendaysIhadthemoneyandhadpaidthedebt. “Well,youcanimaginehowharditwastosettledowntoarduousworkat￡2aweekwhenIknewthatIcouldearnasmuchinadaybysmearingmyfacewithalittlepaint,layingmycapontheground,andsittingstill.Itwasalongfightbetweenmyprideandthemoney,butthedollarswonatlast,andIthrewupreportingandsatdayafterdayinthecornerwhichIhadfirstchosen,inspiringpitybymyghastlyfaceandfillingmypocketswithcoppers.Onlyonemanknewmysecret.HewasthekeeperofalowdeninwhichIusedtolodgeinSwandamLane,whereIcouldeverymorningemergeasasqualidbeggarandintheeveningstransformmyselfintoawell-dressedmanabouttown.Thisfellow,aLascar,waswellpaidbymeforhisrooms,sothatIknewthatmysecretwassafeinhispossession. “Well,verysoonIfoundthatIwassavingconsiderablesumsofmoney.IdonotmeanthatanybeggarinthestreetsofLondoncouldearn￡700ayear—whichislessthanmyaveragetakings—butIhadexceptionaladvantagesinmypowerofmakingup,andalsoinafacilityofrepartee,whichimprovedbypracticeandmademequitearecognisedcharacterintheCity.Alldayastreamofpennies,variedbysilver,pouredinuponme,anditwasaverybaddayinwhichIfailedtotake￡2. “AsIgrewricherIgrewmoreambitious,tookahouseinthecountry,andeventuallymarried,withoutanyonehavingasuspicionastomyrealoccupation.MydearwifeknewthatIhadbusinessintheCity.Shelittleknewwhat. “LastMondayIhadfinishedforthedayandwasdressinginmyroomabovetheopiumdenwhenIlookedoutofmywindowandsaw,tomyhorrorandastonishment,thatmywifewasstandinginthestreet,withhereyesfixedfulluponme.Igaveacryofsurprise,threwupmyarmstocovermyface,and,rushingtomyconfidant,theLascar,entreatedhimtopreventanyonefromcominguptome.Iheardhervoicedownstairs,butIknewthatshecouldnotascend.SwiftlyIthrewoffmyclothes,pulledonthoseofabeggar,andputonmypigmentsandwig.Evenawife’seyescouldnotpiercesocompleteadisguise.Butthenitoccurredtomethattheremightbeasearchintheroom,andthattheclothesmightbetrayme.Ithrewopenthewindow,reopeningbymyviolenceasmallcutwhichIhadinflicteduponmyselfinthebedroomthatmorning.ThenIseizedmycoat,whichwasweightedbythecopperswhichIhadjusttransferredtoitfromtheleatherbaginwhichIcarriedmytakings.Ihurleditoutofthewindow,anditdisappearedintotheThames.Theotherclotheswouldhavefollowed,butatthatmomenttherewasarushofconstablesupthestair,andafewminutesafterIfound,rather,Iconfess,tomyrelief,thatinsteadofbeingidentifiedasMr.NevilleSt.Clair,Iwasarrestedashismurderer. “Idonotknowthatthereisanythingelseformetoexplain.Iwasdeterminedtopreservemydisguiseaslongaspossible,andhencemypreferenceforadirtyface.Knowingthatmywifewouldbeterriblyanxious,IslippedoffmyringandconfidedittotheLascaratamomentwhennoconstablewaswatchingme,togetherwithahurriedscrawl,tellingherthatshehadnocausetofear.” “Thatnoteonlyreachedheryesterday,”saidHolmes. “GoodGod!Whataweekshemusthavespent!” “ThepolicehavewatchedthisLascar,”saidInspectorBradstreet,“andIcanquiteunderstandthathemightfinditdifficulttopostaletterunobserved.Probablyhehandedittosomesailorcustomerofhis,whoforgotallaboutitforsomedays.” “Thatwasit,”saidHolmes,noddingapprovingly“Ihavenodoubtofit.Buthaveyouneverbeenprosecutedforbegging?” “Manytimesbutwhatwasafinetome?” “Itmuststophere,however,”saidBradstreet.“Ifthepolicearetohushthisthingup,theremustbenomoreofHughBoone.” “Ihaveswornitbythemostsolemnoathswhichamancantake.” “InthatcaseIthinkthatitisprobablethatnofurtherstepsmaybetaken.Butifyouarefoundagain,thenallmustcomeout.Iamsure,Mr.Holmes,thatweareverymuchindebtedtoyouforhavingclearedthematterup.IwishIknewhowyoureachyourresults.” “Ireachedthisone,”saidmyfriend,“bysittinguponfivepillowsandconsuminganounceofshag.Ithink,Watson,thatifwedrivetoBakerStreetweshalljustbeintimeforbreakfast.”