No More Learning

We stepped, as it were, right out of
the carriage and into the hall, so that I failed to catch the
most fleeting glance of the front of the house. The instant that
I had crossed the threshold the door slammed heavily behind us,
and I heard faintly the rattle of the wheels as the carriage
drove away.

"It was pitch dark inside the house, and the colonel fumbled
about looking for matches and muttering under his breath.
Suddenly a door opened at the other end of the passage, and a
long, golden bar of light shot out in our direction. It grew
broader, and a woman appeared with a lamp in her hand, which she
held above her head, pushing her face forward and peering at us.
I could see that she was pretty, and from the gloss with which
the light shone upon her dark dress I knew that it was a rich
material. She spoke a few words in a foreign tongue in a tone as
though asking a question, and when my companion answered in a
gruff monosyllable she gave such a start that the lamp nearly
fell from her hand. Colonel Stark went up to her, whispered
something in her ear, and then, pushing her back into the room
from whence she had come, he walked towards me again with the
lamp in his hand.

"'Perhaps you will have the kindness to wait in this room for a
few minutes,' said he, throwing open another door. It was a
quiet, little, plainly furnished room, with a round table in the
centre, on which several German books were scattered. Colonel
Stark laid down the lamp on the top of a harmonium beside the
door. 'I shall not keep you waiting an instant,' said he, and
vanished into the darkness.

"I glanced at the books upon the table, and in spite of my
ignorance of German I could see that two of them were treatises
on science, the others being volumes of poetry. Then I walked
across to the window, hoping that I might catch some glimpse of
the country-side, but an oak shutter, heavily barred, was folded
across it. It was a wonderfully silent house. There was an old
clock ticking loudly somewhere in the passage, but otherwise
everything was deadly still. A vague feeling of uneasiness began
to steal over me. Who were these German people, and what were
they doing living in this strange, out-of-the-way place? And
where was the place? I was ten miles or so from Eyford, that was
all I knew, but whether north, south, east, or west I had no
idea. For that matter, Reading, and possibly other large towns,
were within that radius, so the place might not be so secluded,
after all. Yet it was quite certain, from the absolute stillness,
that we were in the country. I paced up and down the room,
humming a tune under my breath to keep up my spirits and feeling
that I was thoroughly earning my fifty-guinea fee.

"Suddenly, without any preliminary sound in the midst of the
utter stillness, the door of my room swung slowly open. The woman
was standing in the aperture, the darkness of the hall behind
her, the yellow light from my lamp beating upon her eager and
beautiful face. I could see at a glance that she was sick with
fear, and the sight sent a chill to my own heart. She held up one
shaking finger to warn me to be silent, and she shot a few
whispered words of broken English at me, her eyes glancing back,
like those of a frightened horse, into the gloom behind her.

"'I would go,' said she, trying hard, as it seemed to me, to
speak calmly; 'I would go. I should not stay here. There is no
good for you to do. '

"'But, madam,' said I, 'I have not yet done what I came for. I
cannot possibly leave until I have seen the machine. '

"'It is not worth your while to wait,' she went on. 'You can pass
through the door; no one hinders. ' And then, seeing that I smiled
and shook my head, she suddenly threw aside her constraint and
made a step forward, with her hands wrung together. 'For the love
of Heaven! ' she whispered, 'get away from here before it is too
late! '

"But I am somewhat headstrong by nature, and the more ready to
engage in an affair when there is some obstacle in the way. I
thought of my fifty-guinea fee, of my wearisome journey, and of
the unpleasant night which seemed to be before me. Was it all to
go for nothing? Why should I slink away without having carried
out my commission, and without the payment which was my due? This
woman might, for all I knew, be a monomaniac. With a stout
bearing, therefore, though her manner had shaken me more than I
cared to confess, I still shook my head and declared my intention
of remaining where I was. She was about to renew her entreaties
when a door slammed overhead, and the sound of several footsteps
was heard upon the stairs. She listened for an instant, threw up
her hands with a despairing gesture, and vanished as suddenly and
as noiselessly as she had come.

"The newcomers were Colonel Lysander Stark and a short thick man
with a chinchilla beard growing out of the creases of his double
chin, who was introduced to me as Mr. Ferguson.

"'This is my secretary and manager,' said the colonel. 'By the
way, I was under the impression that I left this door shut just
now. I fear that you have felt the draught. '

"'On the contrary,' said I, 'I opened the door myself because I
felt the room to be a little close. '

"He shot one of his suspicious looks at me. 'Perhaps we had
better proceed to business, then,' said he. 'Mr. Ferguson and I
will take you up to see the machine. '

"'I had better put my hat on, I suppose. '

"'Oh, no, it is in the house. '

"'What, you dig fuller's-earth in the house? '

"'No, no. This is only where we compress it. But never mind that.
All we wish you to do is to examine the machine and to let us
know what is wrong with it. '

"We went upstairs together, the colonel first with the lamp, the
fat manager and I behind him. It was a labyrinth of an old house,
with corridors, passages, narrow winding staircases, and little
low doors, the thresholds of which were hollowed out by the
generations who had crossed them. There were no carpets and no
signs of any furniture above the ground floor, while the plaster
was peeling off the walls, and the damp was breaking through in
green, unhealthy blotches. I tried to put on as unconcerned an
air as possible, but I had not forgotten the warnings of the
lady, even though I disregarded them, and I kept a keen eye upon
my two companions. Ferguson appeared to be a morose and silent
man, but I could see from the little that he said that he was at
least a fellow-countryman.

"Colonel Lysander Stark stopped at last before a low door, which
he unlocked. Within was a small, square room, in which the three
of us could hardly get at one time. Ferguson remained outside,
and the colonel ushered me in.

"'We are now,' said he, 'actually within the hydraulic press, and
it would be a particularly unpleasant thing for us if anyone were
to turn it on. The ceiling of this small chamber is really the
end of the descending piston, and it comes down with the force of
many tons upon this metal floor. There are small lateral columns
of water outside which receive the force, and which transmit and
multiply it in the manner which is familiar to you. The machine
goes readily enough, but there is some stiffness in the working
of it, and it has lost a little of its force. Perhaps you will
have the goodness to look it over and to show us how we can set
it right. '

"I took the lamp from him, and I examined the machine very
thoroughly. It was indeed a gigantic one, and capable of
exercising enormous pressure. When I passed outside, however, and
pressed down the levers which controlled it, I knew at once by
the whishing sound that there was a slight leakage, which allowed
a regurgitation of water through one of the side cylinders. An
examination showed that one of the india-rubber bands which was
round the head of a driving-rod had shrunk so as not quite to
fill the socket along which it worked. This was clearly the cause
of the loss of power, and I pointed it out to my companions, who
followed my remarks very carefully and asked several practical
questions as to how they should proceed to set it right. When I
had made it clear to them, I returned to the main chamber of the
machine and took a good look at it to satisfy my own curiosity.
It was obvious at a glance that the story of the fuller's-earth
was the merest fabrication, for it would be absurd to suppose
that so powerful an engine could be designed for so inadequate a
purpose. The walls were of wood, but the floor consisted of a
large iron trough, and when I came to examine it I could see a
crust of metallic deposit all over it. I had stooped and was
scraping at this to see exactly what it was when I heard a
muttered exclamation in German and saw the cadaverous face of the
colonel looking down at me.

"'What are you doing there? ' he asked.

"I felt angry at having been tricked by so elaborate a story as
that which he had told me. 'I was admiring your fuller's-earth,'
said I; 'I think that I should be better able to advise you as to
your machine if I knew what the exact purpose was for which it
was used. '

"The instant that I uttered the words I regretted the rashness of
my speech. His face set hard, and a baleful light sprang up in
his grey eyes.

"'Very well,' said he, 'you shall know all about the machine. ' He
took a step backward, slammed the little door, and turned the key
in the lock. I rushed towards it and pulled at the handle, but it
was quite secure, and did not give in the least to my kicks and
shoves. 'Hullo! ' I yelled. 'Hullo! Colonel! Let me out! '

"And then suddenly in the silence I heard a sound which sent my
heart into my mouth. It was the clank of the levers and the swish
of the leaking cylinder. He had set the engine at work. The lamp
still stood upon the floor where I had placed it when examining
the trough. By its light I saw that the black ceiling was coming
down upon me, slowly, jerkily, but, as none knew better than
myself, with a force which must within a minute grind me to a
shapeless pulp. I threw myself, screaming, against the door, and
dragged with my nails at the lock. I implored the colonel to let
me out, but the remorseless clanking of the levers drowned my
cries. The ceiling was only a foot or two above my head, and with
my hand upraised I could feel its hard, rough surface. Then it
flashed through my mind that the pain of my death would depend
very much upon the position in which I met it. If I lay on my
face the weight would come upon my spine, and I shuddered to
think of that dreadful snap. Easier the other way, perhaps; and
yet, had I the nerve to lie and look up at that deadly black
shadow wavering down upon me? Already I was unable to stand
erect, when my eye caught something which brought a gush of hope
back to my heart.

"I have said that though the floor and ceiling were of iron, the
walls were of wood. As I gave a last hurried glance around, I saw
a thin line of yellow light between two of the boards, which
broadened and broadened as a small panel was pushed backward. For
an instant I could hardly believe that here was indeed a door
which led away from death. The next instant I threw myself
through, and lay half-fainting upon the other side. The panel had
closed again behind me, but the crash of the lamp, and a few
moments afterwards the clang of the two slabs of metal, told me
how narrow had been my escape.

"I was recalled to myself by a frantic plucking at my wrist, and
I found myself lying upon the stone floor of a narrow corridor,
while a woman bent over me and tugged at me with her left hand,
while she held a candle in her right. It was the same good friend
whose warning I had so foolishly rejected.

"'Come! come! ' she cried breathlessly. 'They will be here in a
moment. They will see that you are not there. Oh, do not waste
the so-precious time, but come! '

"This time, at least, I did not scorn her advice. I staggered to
my feet and ran with her along the corridor and down a winding
stair. The latter led to another broad passage, and just as we
reached it we heard the sound of running feet and the shouting of
two voices, one answering the other from the floor on which we
were and from the one beneath. My guide stopped and looked about
her like one who is at her wit's end. Then she threw open a door
which led into a bedroom, through the window of which the moon
was shining brightly.

"'It is your only chance,' said she. 'It is high, but it may be
that you can jump it. '

"As she spoke a light sprang into view at the further end of the
passage, and I saw the lean figure of Colonel Lysander Stark
rushing forward with a lantern in one hand and a weapon like a
butcher's cleaver in the other. I rushed across the bedroom,
flung open the window, and looked out. How quiet and sweet and
wholesome the garden looked in the moonlight, and it could not be
more than thirty feet down. I clambered out upon the sill, but I
hesitated to jump until I should have heard what passed between
my saviour and the ruffian who pursued me. If she were ill-used,
then at any risks I was determined to go back to her assistance.
The thought had hardly flashed through my mind before he was at
the door, pushing his way past her; but she threw her arms round
him and tried to hold him back.

"'Fritz! Fritz! ' she cried in English, 'remember your promise
after the last time. You said it should not be again. He will be
silent! Oh, he will be silent! '

"'You are mad, Elise! ' he shouted, struggling to break away from
her. 'You will be the ruin of us. He has seen too much. Let me
pass, I say! ' He dashed her to one side, and, rushing to the
window, cut at me with his heavy weapon. I had let myself go, and
was hanging by the hands to the sill, when his blow fell. I was
conscious of a dull pain, my grip loosened, and I fell into the
garden below.

"I was shaken but not hurt by the fall; so I picked myself up and
rushed off among the bushes as hard as I could run, for I
understood that I was far from being out of danger yet. Suddenly,
however, as I ran, a deadly dizziness and sickness came over me.
I glanced down at my hand, which was throbbing painfully, and
then, for the first time, saw that my thumb had been cut off and
that the blood was pouring from my wound. I endeavoured to tie my
handkerchief round it, but there came a sudden buzzing in my
ears, and next moment I fell in a dead faint among the
rose-bushes.

"How long I remained unconscious I cannot tell. It must have been
a very long time, for the moon had sunk, and a bright morning was
breaking when I came to myself. My clothes were all sodden with
dew, and my coat-sleeve was drenched with blood from my wounded
thumb. The smarting of it recalled in an instant all the
particulars of my night's adventure, and I sprang to my feet with
the feeling that I might hardly yet be safe from my pursuers. But
to my astonishment, when I came to look round me, neither house
nor garden were to be seen. I had been lying in an angle of the
hedge close by the highroad, and just a little lower down was a
long building, which proved, upon my approaching it, to be the
very station at which I had arrived upon the previous night. Were
it not for the ugly wound upon my hand, all that had passed
during those dreadful hours might have been an evil dream.

"Half dazed, I went into the station and asked about the morning
train. There would be one to Reading in less than an hour. The
same porter was on duty, I found, as had been there when I
arrived. I inquired of him whether he had ever heard of Colonel
Lysander Stark. The name was strange to him. Had he observed a
carriage the night before waiting for me? No, he had not. Was
there a police-station anywhere near? There was one about three
miles off.

"It was too far for me to go, weak and ill as I was. I determined
to wait until I got back to town before telling my story to the
police. It was a little past six when I arrived, so I went first
to have my wound dressed, and then the doctor was kind enough to
bring me along here. I put the case into your hands and shall do
exactly what you advise. "

We both sat in silence for some little time after listening to
this extraordinary narrative. Then Sherlock Holmes pulled down
from the shelf one of the ponderous commonplace books in which he
placed his cuttings.

"Here is an advertisement which will interest you," said he. "It
appeared in all the papers about a year ago. Listen to this:
'Lost, on the 9th inst. , Mr. Jeremiah Hayling, aged
twenty-six, a hydraulic engineer. Left his lodgings at ten
o'clock at night, and has not been heard of since. Was
dressed in,' etc. , etc. Ha! That represents the last time that
the colonel needed to have his machine overhauled, I fancy. "

"Good heavens! " cried my patient. "Then that explains what the
girl said. "

"Undoubtedly. It is quite clear that the colonel was a cool and
desperate man, who was absolutely determined that nothing should
stand in the way of his little game, like those out-and-out
pirates who will leave no survivor from a captured ship. Well,
every moment now is precious, so if you feel equal to it we shall
go down to Scotland Yard at once as a preliminary to starting for
Eyford. "

Some three hours or so afterwards we were all in the train
together, bound from Reading to the little Berkshire village.
There were Sherlock Holmes, the hydraulic engineer, Inspector
Bradstreet, of Scotland Yard, a plain-clothes man, and myself.
Bradstreet had spread an ordnance map of the county out upon the
seat and was busy with his compasses drawing a circle with Eyford
for its centre.

"There you are," said he. "That circle is drawn at a radius of
ten miles from the village. The place we want must be somewhere
near that line. You said ten miles, I think, sir. "

"It was an hour's good drive.
"

"And you think that they brought you back all that way when you
were unconscious? "

"They must have done so. I have a confused memory, too, of having
been lifted and conveyed somewhere. "

"What I cannot understand," said I, "is why they should have
spared you when they found you lying fainting in the garden.
Perhaps the villain was softened by the woman's entreaties. "

"I hardly think that likely. I never saw a more inexorable face
in my life. "

"Oh, we shall soon clear up all that," said Bradstreet. "Well, I
have drawn my circle, and I only wish I knew at what point upon
it the folk that we are in search of are to be found. "

"I think I could lay my finger on it," said Holmes quietly.

"Really, now! " cried the inspector, "you have formed your
opinion! Come, now, we shall see who agrees with you. I say it is
south, for the country is more deserted there. "

"And I say east," said my patient.

"I am for west," remarked the plain-clothes man. "There are
several quiet little villages up there. "

"And I am for north," said I, "because there are no hills there,
and our friend says that he did not notice the carriage go up
any. "

"Come," cried the inspector, laughing; "it's a very pretty
diversity of opinion. We have boxed the compass among us. Who do
you give your casting vote to? "

"You are all wrong. "

"But we can't all be. "

"Oh, yes, you can. This is my point. " He placed his finger in the
centre of the circle. "This is where we shall find them. "

"But the twelve-mile drive? " gasped Hatherley.

"Six out and six back. Nothing simpler. You say yourself that the
horse was fresh and glossy when you got in. How could it be that
if it had gone twelve miles over heavy roads? "

"Indeed, it is a likely ruse enough," observed Bradstreet
thoughtfully. "Of course there can be no doubt as to the nature
of this gang. "

"None at all," said Holmes. "They are coiners on a large scale,
and have used the machine to form the amalgam which has taken the
place of silver. "

"We have known for some time that a clever gang was at work,"
said the inspector. "They have been turning out half-crowns by
the thousand. We even traced them as far as Reading, but could
get no farther, for they had covered their traces in a way that
showed that they were very old hands. But now, thanks to this
lucky chance, I think that we have got them right enough. "

But the inspector was mistaken, for those criminals were not
destined to fall into the hands of justice. As we rolled into
Eyford Station we saw a gigantic column of smoke which streamed
up from behind a small clump of trees in the neighbourhood and
hung like an immense ostrich feather over the landscape.

"A house on fire? " asked Bradstreet as the train steamed off
again on its way.

"Yes, sir! " said the station-master.

"When did it break out? "

"I hear that it was during the night, sir, but it has got worse,
and the whole place is in a blaze. "

"Whose house is it? "

"Dr. Becher's. "

"Tell me," broke in the engineer, "is Dr. Becher a German, very
thin, with a long, sharp nose? "

The station-master laughed heartily. "No, sir, Dr. Becher is an
Englishman, and there isn't a man in the parish who has a
better-lined waistcoat. But he has a gentleman staying with him,
a patient, as I understand, who is a foreigner, and he looks as
if a little good Berkshire beef would do him no harm. "

The station-master had not finished his speech before we were all
hastening in the direction of the fire. The road topped a low
hill, and there was a great widespread whitewashed building in
front of us, spouting fire at every chink and window, while in
the garden in front three fire-engines were vainly striving to
keep the flames under.

"That's it! " cried Hatherley, in intense excitement. "There is
the gravel-drive, and there are the rose-bushes where I lay. That
second window is the one that I jumped from. "

"Well, at least," said Holmes, "you have had your revenge upon
them. There can be no question that it was your oil-lamp which,
when it was crushed in the press, set fire to the wooden walls,
though no doubt they were too excited in the chase after you to
observe it at the time. Now keep your eyes open in this crowd for
your friends of last night, though I very much fear that they are
a good hundred miles off by now. "

And Holmes' fears came to be realised, for from that day to this
no word has ever been heard either of the beautiful woman, the
sinister German, or the morose Englishman. Early that morning a
peasant had met a cart containing several people and some very
bulky boxes driving rapidly in the direction of Reading, but
there all traces of the fugitives disappeared, and even Holmes'
ingenuity failed ever to discover the least clue as to their
whereabouts.

The firemen had been much perturbed at the strange arrangements
which they had found within, and still more so by discovering a
newly severed human thumb upon a window-sill of the second floor.
About sunset, however, their efforts were at last successful, and
they subdued the flames, but not before the roof had fallen in,
and the whole place been reduced to such absolute ruin that, save
some twisted cylinders and iron piping, not a trace remained of
the machinery which had cost our unfortunate acquaintance so
dearly. Large masses of nickel and of tin were discovered stored
in an out-house, but no coins were to be found, which may have
explained the presence of those bulky boxes which have been
already referred to.

How our hydraulic engineer had been conveyed from the garden to
the spot where he recovered his senses might have remained
forever a mystery were it not for the soft mould, which told us a
very plain tale. He had evidently been carried down by two
persons, one of whom had remarkably small feet and the other
unusually large ones. On the whole, it was most probable that the
silent Englishman, being less bold or less murderous than his
companion, had assisted the woman to bear the unconscious man out
of the way of danger.

"Well," said our engineer ruefully as we took our seats to return
once more to London, "it has been a pretty business for me! I
have lost my thumb and I have lost a fifty-guinea fee, and what
have I gained? "

"Experience," said Holmes, laughing. "Indirectly it may be of
value, you know; you have only to put it into words to gain the
reputation of being excellent company for the remainder of your
existence. "



X. THE ADVENTURE OF THE NOBLE BACHELOR

The Lord St. Simon marriage, and its curious termination, have
long ceased to be a subject of interest in those exalted circles
in which the unfortunate bridegroom moves. Fresh scandals have
eclipsed it, and their more piquant details have drawn the
gossips away from this four-year-old drama. As I have reason to
believe, however, that the full facts have never been revealed to
the general public, and as my friend Sherlock Holmes had a
considerable share in clearing the matter up, I feel that no
memoir of him would be complete without some little sketch of
this remarkable episode.

It was a few weeks before my own marriage, during the days when I
was still sharing rooms with Holmes in Baker Street, that he came
home from an afternoon stroll to find a letter on the table
waiting for him. I had remained indoors all day, for the weather
had taken a sudden turn to rain, with high autumnal winds, and
the Jezail bullet which I had brought back in one of my limbs as
a relic of my Afghan campaign throbbed with dull persistence.
With my body in one easy-chair and my legs upon another, I had
surrounded myself with a cloud of newspapers until at last,
saturated with the news of the day, I tossed them all aside and
lay listless, watching the huge crest and monogram upon the
envelope upon the table and wondering lazily who my friend's
noble correspondent could be.

"Here is a very fashionable epistle," I remarked as he entered.
"Your morning letters, if I remember right, were from a
fish-monger and a tide-waiter. "

"Yes, my correspondence has certainly the charm of variety," he
answered, smiling, "and the humbler are usually the more
interesting. This looks like one of those unwelcome social
summonses which call upon a man either to be bored or to lie. "

He broke the seal and glanced over the contents.

"Oh, come, it may prove to be something of interest, after all. "

"Not social, then? "

"No, distinctly professional. "

"And from a noble client? "

"One of the highest in England. "

"My dear fellow, I congratulate you. "

"I assure you, Watson, without affectation, that the status of my
client is a matter of less moment to me than the interest of his
case. It is just possible, however, that that also may not be
wanting in this new investigation. You have been reading the
papers diligently of late, have you not? "

"It looks like it," said I ruefully, pointing to a huge bundle in
the corner. "I have had nothing else to do. "

"It is fortunate, for you will perhaps be able to post me up. I
read nothing except the criminal news and the agony column. The
latter is always instructive. But if you have followed recent
events so closely you must have read about Lord St. Simon and his
wedding? "

"Oh, yes, with the deepest interest. "

"That is well. The letter which I hold in my hand is from Lord
St. Simon. I will read it to you, and in return you must turn
over these papers and let me have whatever bears upon the matter.
This is what he says:

"'MY DEAR MR. SHERLOCK HOLMES:--Lord Backwater tells me that I
may place implicit reliance upon your judgment and discretion. I
have determined, therefore, to call upon you and to consult you
in reference to the very painful event which has occurred in
connection with my wedding. Mr. Lestrade, of Scotland Yard, is
acting already in the matter, but he assures me that he sees no
objection to your co-operation, and that he even thinks that
it might be of some assistance. I will call at four o'clock in
the afternoon, and, should you have any other engagement at that
time, I hope that you will postpone it, as this matter is of
paramount importance. Yours faithfully, ST. SIMON. '

"It is dated from Grosvenor Mansions, written with a quill pen,
and the noble lord has had the misfortune to get a smear of ink
upon the outer side of his right little finger," remarked Holmes
as he folded up the epistle.

"He says four o'clock. It is three now. He will be here in an
hour. "

"Then I have just time, with your assistance, to get clear upon
the subject. Turn over those papers and arrange the extracts in
their order of time, while I take a glance as to who our client
is. " He picked a red-covered volume from a line of books of
reference beside the mantelpiece. "Here he is," said he, sitting
down and flattening it out upon his knee. "'Lord Robert Walsingham
de Vere St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral. ' Hum! 'Arms:
Azure, three caltrops in chief over a fess sable. Born in 1846. '
He's forty-one years of age, which is mature for marriage. Was
Under-Secretary for the colonies in a late administration. The
Duke, his father, was at one time Secretary for Foreign Affairs.
They inherit Plantagenet blood by direct descent, and Tudor on
the distaff side. Ha! Well, there is nothing very instructive in
all this. I think that I must turn to you Watson, for something
more solid. "

"I have very little difficulty in finding what I want," said I,
"for the facts are quite recent, and the matter struck me as
remarkable. I feared to refer them to you, however, as I knew
that you had an inquiry on hand and that you disliked the
intrusion of other matters. "

"Oh, you mean the little problem of the Grosvenor Square
furniture van. That is quite cleared up now--though, indeed, it
was obvious from the first. Pray give me the results of your
newspaper selections. "

"Here is the first notice which I can find. It is in the personal
column of the Morning Post, and dates, as you see, some weeks
back: 'A marriage has been arranged,' it says, 'and will, if
rumour is correct, very shortly take place, between Lord Robert
St. Simon, second son of the Duke of Balmoral, and Miss Hatty
Doran, the only daughter of Aloysius Doran. Esq. , of San
Francisco, Cal. , U. S. A. ' That is all. "

"Terse and to the point," remarked Holmes, stretching his long,
thin legs towards the fire.

"There was a paragraph amplifying this in one of the society
papers of the same week. Ah, here it is: 'There will soon be a
call for protection in the marriage market, for the present
free-trade principle appears to tell heavily against our home
product. One by one the management of the noble houses of Great
Britain is passing into the hands of our fair cousins from across
the Atlantic. An important addition has been made during the last
week to the list of the prizes which have been borne away by
these charming invaders. Lord St. Simon, who has shown himself
for over twenty years proof against the little god's arrows, has
now definitely announced his approaching marriage with Miss Hatty
Doran, the fascinating daughter of a California millionaire. Miss
Doran, whose graceful figure and striking face attracted much
attention at the Westbury House festivities, is an only child,
and it is currently reported that her dowry will run to
considerably over the six figures, with expectancies for the
future. As it is an open secret that the Duke of Balmoral has
been compelled to sell his pictures within the last few years,
and as Lord St. Simon has no property of his own save the small
estate of Birchmoor, it is obvious that the Californian heiress
is not the only gainer by an alliance which will enable her to
make the easy and common transition from a Republican lady to a
British peeress. '"

"Anything else? " asked Holmes, yawning.

"Oh, yes; plenty. Then there is another note in the Morning Post
to say that the marriage would be an absolutely quiet one, that it
would be at St. George's, Hanover Square, that only half a dozen
intimate friends would be invited, and that the party would
return to the furnished house at Lancaster Gate which has been
taken by Mr. Aloysius Doran. Two days later--that is, on
Wednesday last--there is a curt announcement that the wedding had
taken place, and that the honeymoon would be passed at Lord
Backwater's place, near Petersfield. Those are all the notices
which appeared before the disappearance of the bride. "

"Before the what? " asked Holmes with a start.

"The vanishing of the lady. "

"When did she vanish, then? "

"At the wedding breakfast. "

"Indeed. This is more interesting than it promised to be; quite
dramatic, in fact. "

"Yes; it struck me as being a little out of the common. "

"They often vanish before the ceremony, and occasionally during
the honeymoon; but I cannot call to mind anything quite so prompt
as this. Pray let me have the details. "

"I warn you that they are very incomplete. "

"Perhaps we may make them less so. "

"Such as they are, they are set forth in a single article of a
morning paper of yesterday, which I will read to you. It is
headed, 'Singular Occurrence at a Fashionable Wedding':

"'The family of Lord Robert St. Simon has been thrown into the
greatest consternation by the strange and painful episodes which
have taken place in connection with his wedding. The ceremony, as
shortly announced in the papers of yesterday, occurred on the
previous morning; but it is only now that it has been possible to
confirm the strange rumours which have been so persistently
floating about. In spite of the attempts of the friends to hush
the matter up, so much public attention has now been drawn to it
that no good purpose can be served by affecting to disregard what
is a common subject for conversation.

"'The ceremony, which was performed at St. George's, Hanover
Square, was a very quiet one, no one being present save the
father of the bride, Mr. Aloysius Doran, the Duchess of Balmoral,
Lord Backwater, Lord Eustace and Lady Clara St. Simon (the
younger brother and sister of the bridegroom), and Lady Alicia
Whittington. The whole party proceeded afterwards to the house of
Mr. Aloysius Doran, at Lancaster Gate, where breakfast had been
prepared. It appears that some little trouble was caused by a
woman, whose name has not been ascertained, who endeavoured to
force her way into the house after the bridal party, alleging
that she had some claim upon Lord St. Simon. It was only after a
painful and prolonged scene that she was ejected by the butler
and the footman. The bride, who had fortunately entered the house
before this unpleasant interruption, had sat down to breakfast
with the rest, when she complained of a sudden indisposition and
retired to her room. Her prolonged absence having caused some
comment, her father followed her, but learned from her maid that
she had only come up to her chamber for an instant, caught up an
ulster and bonnet, and hurried down to the passage.