IX.THE ADVENTURE OF THE ENGINEER’S THUMB

ldhaveaskedhadIsetapriceuponmyownservices,anditwaspossiblethatthisordermightleadtootherones.Ontheotherhand,thefaceandmannerofmypatronhadmadeanunpleasantimpressionuponme,andIcouldnotthinkthathisexplanationofthefuller’s-earthwassufficienttoexplainthenecessityformycomingatmidnight,andhisextremeanxietylestIshouldtellanyoneofmyerrand.However,Ithrewallfearstothewinds,ateaheartysupper,drovetoPaddington,andstartedoff,havingobeyedtothelettertheinjunctionastoholdingmytongue. “AtReadingIhadtochangenotonlymycarriagebutmystation.However,IwasintimeforthelasttraintoEyford,andIreachedthelittledim-litstationaftereleveno’clock.Iwastheonlypassengerwhogotoutthere,andtherewasnooneupontheplatformsaveasinglesleepyporterwithalantern.AsIpassedoutthroughthewicketgate,however,Ifoundmyacquaintanceofthemorningwaitingintheshadowupontheotherside.Withoutawordhegraspedmyarmandhurriedmeintoacarriage,thedoorofwhichwasstandingopen.Hedrewupthewindowsoneitherside,tappedonthewood-work,andawaywewentasfastasthehorsecouldgo.” “Onehorse?”interjectedHolmes. “Yes,onlyone.” “Didyouobservethecolour?” “Yes,Isawitbytheside-lightswhenIwassteppingintothecarriage.Itwasachestnut.” “Tired-lookingorfresh?” “Oh,freshandglossy.” “Thankyou.Iamsorrytohaveinterruptedyou.Praycontinueyourmostinterestingstatement.” “Awaywewentthen,andwedroveforatleastanhour.ColonelLysanderStarkhadsaidthatitwasonlysevenmiles,butIshouldthink,fromtheratethatweseemedtogo,andfromthetimethatwetook,thatitmusthavebeennearertwelve.Hesatatmysideinsilenceallthetime,andIwasaware,morethanoncewhenIglancedinhisdirection,thathewaslookingatmewithgreatintensity.Thecountryroadsseemtobenotverygoodinthatpartoftheworld,forwelurchedandjoltedterribly.Itriedtolookoutofthewindowstoseesomethingofwherewewere,buttheyweremadeoffrostedglass,andIcouldmakeoutnothingsavetheoccasionalbrightblurofapassinglight.NowandthenIhazardedsomeremarktobreakthemonotonyofthejourney,butthecolonelansweredonlyinmonosyllables,andtheconversationsoonflagged.Atlast,however,thebumpingoftheroadwasexchangedforthecrispsmoothnessofagravel-drive,andthecarriagecametoastand.ColonelLysanderStarksprangout,and,asIfollowedafterhim,pulledmeswiftlyintoaporchwhichgapedinfrontofus.Westepped,asitwere,rightoutofthecarriageandintothehall,sothatIfailedtocatchthemostfleetingglanceofthefrontofthehouse.TheinstantthatIhadcrossedthethresholdthedoorslammedheavilybehindus,andIheardfaintlytherattleofthewheelsasthecarriagedroveaway. “Itwaspitchdarkinsidethehouse,andthecolonelfumbledaboutlookingformatchesandmutteringunderhisbreath.Suddenlyadooropenedattheotherendofthepassage,andalong,goldenbaroflightshotoutinourdirection.Itgrewbroader,andawomanappearedwithalampinherhand,whichsheheldaboveherhead,pushingherfaceforwardandpeeringatus.Icouldseethatshewaspretty,andfromtheglosswithwhichthelightshoneuponherdarkdressIknewthatitwasarichmaterial.Shespokeafewwordsinaforeigntongueinatoneasthoughaskingaquestion,andwhenmycompanionansweredinagruffmonosyllableshegavesuchastartthatthelampnearlyfellfromherhand.ColonelStarkwentuptoher,whisperedsomethinginherear,andthen,pushingherbackintotheroomfromwhenceshehadcome,hewalkedtowardsmeagainwiththelampinhishand. “‘Perhapsyouwillhavethekindnesstowaitinthisroomforafewminutes,’saidhe,throwingopenanotherdoor.Itwasaquiet,little,plainlyfurnishedroom,witharoundtableinthecentre,onwhichseveralGermanbookswerescattered.ColonelStarklaiddownthelamponthetopofaharmoniumbesidethedoor.‘Ishallnotkeepyouwaitinganinstant,’saidhe,andvanishedintothedarkness. “Iglancedatthebooksuponthetable,andinspiteofmyignoranceofGermanIcouldseethattwoofthemweretreatisesonscience,theothersbeingvolumesofpoetry.ThenIwalkedacrosstothewindow,hopingthatImightcatchsomeglimpseofthecountry-side,butanoakshutter,heavilybarred,wasfoldedacrossit.Itwasawonderfullysilenthouse.Therewasanoldclocktickingloudlysomewhereinthepassage,butotherwiseeverythingwasdeadlystill.Avaguefeelingofuneasinessbegantostealoverme.WhoweretheseGermanpeople,andwhatweretheydoinglivinginthisstrange,out-of-the-wayplace?Andwherewastheplace?IwastenmilesorsofromEyford,thatwasallIknew,butwhethernorth,south,east,orwestIhadnoidea.Forthatmatter,Reading,andpossiblyotherlargetowns,werewithinthatradius,sotheplacemightnotbesosecluded,afterall.Yetitwasquitecertain,fromtheabsolutestillness,thatwewereinthecountry.Ipacedupanddowntheroom,hummingatuneundermybreathtokeepupmyspiritsandfeelingthatIwasthoroughlyearningmyfifty-guineafee. “Suddenly,withoutanypreliminarysoundinthemidstoftheutterstillness,thedoorofmyroomswungslowlyopen.Thewomanwasstandingintheaperture,thedarknessofthehallbehindher,theyellowlightfrommylampbeatinguponhereagerandbeautifulface.Icouldseeataglancethatshewassickwithfear,andthesightsentachilltomyownheart.Shehelduponeshakingfingertowarnmetobesilent,andsheshotafewwhisperedwordsofbrokenEnglishatme,hereyesglancingback,likethoseofafrightenedhorse,intothegloombehindher. “‘Iwouldgo,’saidshe,tryinghard,asitseemedtome,tospeakcalmly‘Iwouldgo.Ishouldnotstayhere.Thereisnogoodforyoutodo.’ “‘But,madam,’saidI,‘IhavenotyetdonewhatIcamefor.IcannotpossiblyleaveuntilIhaveseenthemachine.’ “‘Itisnotworthyourwhiletowait,’shewenton.‘Youcanpassthroughthedoornoonehinders.’Andthen,seeingthatIsmiledandshookmyhead,shesuddenlythrewasideherconstraintandmadeastepforward,withherhandswrungtogether.‘FortheloveofHeaven!’shewhispered,‘getawayfromherebeforeitistoolate!’ “ButIamsomewhatheadstrongbynature,andthemorereadytoengageinanaffairwhenthereissomeobstacleintheway.Ithoughtofmyfifty-guineafee,ofmywearisomejourney,andoftheunpleasantnightwhichseemedtobebeforeme.Wasitalltogofornothing?WhyshouldIslinkawaywithouthavingcarriedoutmycommission,andwithoutthepaymentwhichwasmydue?Thiswomanmight,forallIknew,beamonomaniac.Withastoutbearing,therefore,thoughhermannerhadshakenmemorethanIcaredtoconfess,IstillshookmyheadanddeclaredmyintentionofremainingwhereIwas.Shewasabouttorenewherentreatieswhenadoorslammedoverhead,andthesoundofseveralfootstepswashearduponthestairs.Shelistenedforaninstant,threwupherhandswithadespairinggesture,andvanishedassuddenlyandasnoiselesslyasshehadcome. “ThenewcomerswereColonelLysanderStarkandashortthickmanwithachinchillabeardgrowingoutofthecreasesofhisdoublechin,whowasintroducedtomeasMr.Ferguson. “‘Thisismysecretaryandmanager,’saidthecolonel.‘Bytheway,IwasundertheimpressionthatIleftthisdoorshutjustnow.Ifearthatyouhavefeltthedraught.’ “‘Onthecontrary,’saidI,‘IopenedthedoormyselfbecauseIfelttheroomtobealittleclose.’ “Heshotoneofhissuspiciouslooksatme.‘Perhapswehadbetterproceedtobusiness,then,’saidhe.‘Mr.FergusonandIwilltakeyouuptoseethemachine.’ “‘Ihadbetterputmyhaton,Isuppose.’ “‘Oh,no,itisinthehouse.’ “‘What,youdigfuller’s-earthinthehouse?’ “‘No,no.Thisisonlywherewecompressit.Butnevermindthat.Allwewishyoutodoistoexaminethemachineandtoletusknowwhatiswrongwithit.’ “Wewentupstairstogether,thecolonelfirstwiththelamp,thefatmanagerandIbehindhim.Itwasalabyrinthofanoldhouse,withcorridors,passages,narrowwindingstaircases,andlittlelowdoors,thethresholdsofwhichwerehollowedoutbythegenerationswhohadcrossedthem.Therewerenocarpetsandnosignsofanyfurnitureabovethegroundfloor,whiletheplasterwaspeelingoffthewalls,andthedampwasbreakingthroughingreen,unhealthyblotches.Itriedtoputonasunconcernedanairaspossible,butIhadnotforgottenthewarningsofthelady,eventhoughIdisregardedthem,andIkeptakeeneyeuponmytwocompanio