Latest / Classic Adventure Books Library / The Adventure of The Copper Beaches - Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
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- The adventure of the Copper Beaches to the man who loves art for its own sake, remarked Sherlock Holmes, tossing aside the advertisement sheet of the Daily Telegraph. It is frequently in its least important and lowliest manifestations that the keenest pleasure is to be derived. It is pleasant to me to observe Watson, that you have so far grasped this truth. That in these little records of our cases, which you have been good enough to draw up, and I am bound to say occasionally to embellish, you have given prominence not so much to the many cause celebres and sensational trials in which I have figured, but rather to those incidents which may have been trivial in themselves, but which have given room for those faculties of deduction and of logical synthesis which I have made my special province. And yet, said I, smiling, I cannot quite hold myself absolved from the charge of sensationalism which has been urged against my records. You have erred, perhaps he observed, taking up a glowing cinder with the tongs, and lighting with it the long cherrywood pipe which was wont to replace his clay when he was in a disputatious rather than a meditative mood. You have erred, perhaps in attempting to put color and life into each of your statements, instead of confining yourself to the task of placing upon record that severe reasoning from cause to effect, which is really the only notable feature about the thing. It seems to me that I have done you full justice in the matter, I remarked with some coldness, for I was repelled by the egotism which I had more than once observed to be a strong factor in my friend's singular character. No, it is not selfishness or conceit, said he answering, as was his Wont my thoughts rather than my words? If I claim full justice for my art, it is because it is an impersonal thing, a thing beyond myself. Crime is common, is rare. Therefore it is upon the logic, rather than upon the crime, that you should dwell. You have degraded what should have been a course of lectures into a series of tails. It was a cold morning of the early spring, and we sat after breakfast, on either side of a cheery fire in the old room at Baker Street. A thick fog rolled down between the lines of dun colored houses, and the opposing windows loomed like dark, shapeless splurs through the heavy yellow wreaths. Our gas was lit and shown on the white cloth and glimmer of china and metal. For the table had not been cleared yet. Sherlock Holmes had been silent all the morning, dipping continuously into the advertisement columns of a succession of papers, until at last, having apparently given up his search, he had emerged in no very sweet temper to lecture me upon my literary shortcomings. At the same time, he remarked, after a pause during which he had sat puffing at his long pipe and gazing down into the fire, you can hardly be open to a charge of sensationalism, for out of those cases which you have been so kind as to interest yourself in a fair proportion, do not treat of crime in its legal sense at all. The small matter in which I endeavored to help the King of Bohemia, the singular experience of Miss Mary Sutherland, the problem connected with the man with the twisted lip, and the incident of the noble bachelor were all matters which are outside the pale of the law. But in avoiding this sensational I fear that you may have bordered on the trivial. The end may have been so, I answered, but the methods I hold to have been novel and of interest. Pshaw, my dear fellow, What do the public, the great unobservant public, who could hardly tell a weaver by his tooth or a compositor by his left thumb, care about the finer shades of analysis and deduction? But indeed, if you are trivial, I cannot blame you, for the days of the great cases are past. Man, or at least criminal man, has lost all enterprise and originality. As to my own little practice, it seems to be degenerating into an agency for recovering lost lead pencils and giving advice to young ladies from boarding schools. I think that I have touched bottom at last. However, this note I had this morning marks my zero point. I fancy read it. He tossed a crumpled letter across to me. It was dated from Montague Place upon the preceding evening, and ran, thus, dear mister Holmes, I am very anxious to consult you as to whether I should or should not accept a situation which has been offered to me as governess. I shall call at half past ten tomorrow if I do not, inconvenience you yours faithfully, Violet Hunter. Do you know the young lady, I asked, not I It is half past ten now, yes, and I have no doubt that is her ring. It may turn out to be of more interest than you think. You remember that the affair of the blue carbuncle, which appeared to be a mere whim at first, developed into a serious investigation. It may be so in this case also. Well, let us hope so. But our doubts will very soon be solved. For here, unless I am much mistaken, is the person in question. As he spoke, the door opened and a young lady entered the room. She was plainly but neatly dressed, with a bright, quick face, freckled like a plubb's egg, and with the brisk manner of a woman who has had her own way to make in the world. You will excuse my troubling you, I am sure, said she, as my companion rose to greet her. But I have had a very strange experience, and as I have no parents or relations of any sort from whom I could ask advice. I felt that perhaps you would be kind enough to tell me what I should do. Pray, take a seat, miss Hunter. I shall be happy to do anything that I can to serve you. I could see that Holmes was favorably impressed by the manner and speech of his new client. He looked her over in his searching fashion, and then composed himself with his lids drooping and his finger tips together to listen to her story. I have been a governess for five years, said she, in the family of Colonel Spence Munroe. But two months ago the colonel received an appointment at Halifax in Nova Scotia and took his children over to America with him. So that I found myself without a situation. I advertised and I answered advertisements, but without success. At last the little money which I had saved began to run short, and I was at my wits end as to what I should do. There here is a well known agency for governesses in the West End called west Away's, and there I used to call about once a week in order to see whether anything had turned up which might suit me. West Away was the name of the founder of the business, but it is really managed by Miss Stoper. She sits in her own little office, and the ladies who are seeking employment wait in an ante room and are then shown in one by one when she consults her ledgers and sees whether she has anything which would suit them well. When I called last week, I was shown into the little office as usual, but I found that Miss Stoper was not alone. A prodigiously stout man with a very smiling face and a great heavy chin which rolled down in fold upon fold over his throat, sat at her elbow with a pair of glasses on his nose, looking very earnestly at the ladies who entered. As I came in, he gave quite a jump in his chair and turned quickly to Miss Stoper. That will do, said he. I could not ask for anything better. Capital capital. He seemed quite enthusiastic, and rubbed his hands together in the most genial fashion. He was such a comfortable looking man that it was quite a pleasure to look at him. You are looking for a situation, miss, he asked, yes, sir, as Governess, Yes sir, And what salary do you ask? I had four pounds a month in my last place with Colonel Spence Monroe, oh, tut tut, sweating, rank sweating, he cried, throwing his fat hands out into the air like a man who is in a boiling passion. How could any one offer so pitiful a sum to a lady with such attractions and accomplishments. My accomplishments, sir, may be less than you imagine, said I, A little French, a little German, music and drawing. Tut tut, he cried. This is all quite beside the question. The point is, have you or have you not the bearing and deportment of a lady? There it is in a nutshell. If you have not, you are not fitted for the rearing of a child who may some day play a considerable part in the history of the country. But if you have, why then how could any gentleman ask you to condescend to accept anything under the three figures? Your salary with me, madam, would commence at one hundred pounds a year. You may imagine, mister Holmes, that to me, destitute as I was, such an offer seemed almost too good to be true. The gentleman, however, seeing perhaps the look of incredulity upon my face, opened a pocket book and took out a note. It is also my custom, said he, smiling in the most pleasant fashion, until his eyes were just two little shining slits amid the white creases of his face. To advance to my young ladies half their salary beforehand, so that they may meet any little expenses of their journey and their wardrobe. It seemed to me that I had never met so fascinating and so thoughtful a man, as I was already in debt to my tradesman. The advance was a great convenience, and yet there was something unnatural about the whole transaction which made me wish to know a little more before I quite committed myself. May I ask where you live, sir, said I Hampshire, charming rural place, the Copper Beaches, five miles on the far side of Winchester. It is the most lovely country, my dear young lady, and the dearest old country house, and my duty, sir, I should be glad to know what they would be. One child, one dear little romper, just six years old. Oh, if you could see him killing cockroaches with a slipper, smack, smack, smack, Three gone before you could wink. He leaned back in his chair and laughed, his eyes into his head again. I was a little startled at the nature of the child's amusement, but the father's laughter made me think that perhaps he was joking. My soul duties? Then, I asked, are to take charge of a single child? No? No, not the soul, Not the soul, My dear young lady, he cried, Your duty would be, as I am sure your good sense would suggest, to obey any little commands my wife might give, provided always that they were such commands as a lady might with propriety obey. You see no difficulty, eh, I should be happy to make myself useful, quite so, and dressed now for example, we are fatty people, you know, fatty but kind hearted. If you were asked to wear any dress which we might give you, you would not object to our little whim, eh no, said I, considerably astonished at his words. Or to sit here or sit there that would not be offensive to you, oh no, Or to cut your hair quite short before you come to us. I could hardly believe my ears. As you may observe, mister Holmes, my hair is somewhat luxuriant, of a rather peculiar tint of chestnut. It has been considered artistic. I could not dream of sacrificing it in this offhand fashion. I am afraid that that is quite impossible, said I. He had been watching me eagerly out of his small eyes, and I could see a shadow pass over his face as I spoke. I am afraid that it is quite essential, said he. It is a little fancy of my wife's and lady's fancies. You know, madam, ladies fancies must be consulted, And so you won't cut your hair? No, sir, I really could not, I answered firmly. Ah, very well, then that quite settles the matter. It is a pity, because in other respects you would really have done very nicely. In that case, Miss Stoper, I had best inspect a few more of your young ladies. The manageress had sat all this while busy with her papers, without a word to either of us. But she glanced at me now with so much annoyance upon her face that I could not help suspecting that she had lost a handsome commission through my refusal. Do you desire your name to be kept upon the books? She asked, if you please, Miss Stoper. Well, really it seems rather useless since you refuse the most excellent offers in this fashion, said she sharply, you can hardly expect us to exert ourselves to find another such opening for you. Good day to you, miss Hunter. She struck a gong upon the table, and I was shown out by the page. Well, mister Holmes. When I got back to my lodgings and found little enough in the cupboard and two or three bills upon the table, I began to ask myself whether I had not done a very foolish thing. After all, if these people had strange fads and expected obedience on the most extraordinary matters, they were at least ready to pay for their eccentricity. Very few governesses in England are getting one hundred pounds a year. Besides, what use was my hair to me? Many people are improved by wearing it short, and perhaps I should be among the number. Next day I was inclined to think that I had made a mistake, and by the day after I was sure of it. I had almost overcome my pride so far as to go back to the agency and inquire whether the place was still open. When I received this letter from the gentleman himself, I have it here and I will read it to you the Copper Beeches near Winchester. Dear miss Hunter, Miss Stoper has very kindly given me your address, and I write from here to ask you whether you have reconsidered your decision. My wife is very anxious that you should come, for she has been much attracted by my description of you. We are willing to give thirty pounds a quarter or a hundred and twenty pounds a year, so as to recompense you for any little inconvenience which our fads may cause you. They are not very exacting. After all. My wife is fond of a particular shade of electric blue, and would like you to wear such a dress indoors in the morning. You need not, however, go to the expense of purchasing one, as we have one belonging to my dear daughter Alice now in Philadelphia, which would I should think fit you very well. Then, as to sitting here or there, or amusing yourself in any manner, indicated that need cause you no inconvenience. As regards your hair, it is no doubt a pity, especially as I could not help remarking its beauty during our short interview. But I am afraid that I must remain firm upon this point, and I only hope that the increased salary may recompense you for the loss. Your duties as far as the child is concerned, are very light. Now do try to come and I shall meet you with a dogcart at Winchester. Let me know your train. Yours faithfully, jeffro Rucastle. That is the letter which I have just received, mister Holmes, and my mind is made up that I will accept it. I thought, however, that before taking the final step, I should like to submit the whole matter to your consideration. Well, miss Hunter, if your mind is made up, that settles the question, said Holmes, smiling. But you would not advise me to refuse. I confess that it is not the situation which I should like to see a sister of mine apply. For what is the meaning of it all, mister Holmes, Ah, I have no data. I cannot tell. Perhaps you have yourself to form some opinion. Well, there seems to me to be only one possible solution. Mister Rucastle seemed to be a very kind, good natured man. Is it not possible that his wife is a lunatic and that he desires to keep the matter quiet for fear she should be taken to an asylum, and that he humors her fancies in every way in order to prevent an outbreak. That is a possible solution. In fact, as matters stand, it is the most probable one. But in any case, it does not seem to be a nice household for a young lady. But the money, mister Holmes, the money, well, yes, of course, the pay is good, too good. That is what makes me uneasy. Why should they give you one hundred and twenty pounds a year when they could have their pick for forty pounds. There must be some strong reason behind. I thought that if I told you the circumstances, you would understand afterwards if I wanted your help, I should feel so much stronger if I felt that you are at the back of me. Oh, you may carry that feeling away with you. I assure you that your little problem promises to be the most interesting which has come my way for some months. There is something distinctly novel about some of the features. If you should find yourself in doubt or in danger, danger, what danger do you foresee? Holmes shook his head gravely. It would cease to be a danger, if we could define it, said he. But at any time, day or night, a telegram would bring me down to your help. That is enough. She rose briskly from her chair, with the anxiety all swept from her face. I shall go down to Hampshire quite easy in my mind. Now I shall write to mister Rucastle at once, sacrifice my poor hair to night, and start for Winchester tomorrow. With a few grateful words to Holmes. She bade us both good night, and bustled off upon her way. At least, said I, as we heard her quick firm steps descending the stairs. She seems to be a young lady who is very well, able to take care of herself, and she would need to be said Holmes gravely. I am much mistaken if we do not hear from her before many days are past. It was not very long before my friend's prediction was fulfilled. A fortnight went by, during which I frequently found my thoughts turning in her direction and wondering what strange side alley of human experience this lonely woman had strayed into the unusual salary. The curious conditions, the light duties all pointed to something abnormal, though, whether a fad or a plot, or whether the man were a philanthropist or a villain, it was quite beyond my powers to determine. As to Holmes, I observed that he sat frequently for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his hand. When I mentioned data, data, data, he cried impatiently, I can't make bricks without clay. And yet he would always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever have accepted such a situation. The telegram, which we eventually received, came late one night, just as I was thinking of turning in, and Holmes was settling down to one of those all night chemical researches which he frequently indulged in, when I would leave him stooping over a retort and a test tube at night and find him in the same position when I came down to breakfast in the morning. He opened the yellow envelope and, then, glancing at the message, threw it across to me. Just look up the trains in Bradshaw, said he, and turned back to his chemical studies. The summons was a brief and urgent one. Please be at the black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday tomorrow, it said, Do come. I am at my wits end, Hunter, Will you come with me? Asked Holmes, glancing up. I should wish to just look it up. Then there is a train at half past nine, said I, glancing over my Bradshaw. It is due at Winchester at eleven thirty. That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the morning. By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old English capital. Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border, he threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal spring day, a light blue sky flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills around Aldershot the little red and gray roofs of the farmsteadings peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage. Are they not fresh and beautiful? I cried, with all the enthusiasm of a man fresh from the fogs of Baker Street. But Holmes shook his head gravely. Do you know, Watson? Said he, that it is one of the curses of a mind with a turn like mine, that I must look at everything with reference to my own special subject. You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation, and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there, Good Heavens, I cried, who would associate crime with these dear old homesteads. They always fill me with a certain horror. It is my belief, Watson, founded upon my experience, that the lowest and vilest alleys in London do not present a more dreadful record of sin than does the smiling and beautiful countryside. You horrify me, but the reason is very obvious. The pressure of public opinion can do in the town what the law cannot accomplish. There is no lane so vile that the scream of a tortured child, or the thud of a drunkard's blow does not beget sympathy and indignation among the neighbors. And then the whole machinery of justice is ever so close that a word of complaint can set it going. And there is but a step between the crime and the dock. But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part with poor, ignorant folk who know little of the law. Think of the deeds of hellish cruelty, the hidden wickedness which may go on year in, year out in such places, and none the wiser. Had this lady who appeals to us for help gone to live in Winchester, I should never have had a fear for her. It is the five miles of country which makes the danger. Still, it is clear that she is not personally threatened. No, if she can come to Winchester to meet us, she can get away. Quite so, she has her freedom. What can be the matter? Then? Can you suggest no explanation? I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover the facts as far as we know them, but which of these is correct can only be determined by the fresh information which we shall no doubt find waiting for us. Well, there is the tower of the cathedral, and we shall soon learn all that miss Hunter has to tell. The Black Swan is an inn of repute in the high Street, at no distance from the station, and there we found the young lady waiting for us. She had engaged a sitting room, and our lunch awaited us upon the table. I am so delighted that you have come, she said earnestly. It is so very kind of you both. But indeed I do not know what I should do. Your advice will be altogether invaluable to me. Pray, tell us what has happened to you. I will do so, and I must be quick, for I have promised mister Rowcastle to be back before three. I got his leave to come into town this morning, though he little knew for what purpose. Let us have everything in its due order. Holmes thrust his long, thin legs out towards the fire and composed himself to listen. In the first place, I may say that I have met on the whole with no actual ill treatment. For mister and missus Rowcastle. It is only fair to them to say that, But I cannot understand them, and I am not easy in my mind about them. What can you not understand? There are reasons for their conduct, but you shall have it all. Just as it occurred when I came down, mister Rucastle met me here and drove me in his dog cart to the copper beaches. It is, as he said, beautifully situated. But it is not beautiful in itself, for it is a large square block of a house, whitewashed, but all stained and streaked with damp and bad weather. There are grounds round it, woods on three sides, and on the fourth a field which slopes down to the Southampton high Road, which curves past about a hundred yards from the front door. This ground in front belongs to the house, but the woods all round are part of Lord Southerton's preserves. A clump of copper beaches immediately in front of the hall door has given its name to the place. I was driven over by my employer, who was as amiable as ever, and was introduced by him that evening to his wife and the child. There was no truth, mister Holmes in the conjecture which seemed to us to be probable in your rooms at Baker Street. Missus Roucastle is not mad. I found her to be a silent, pale faced woman, much younger than her husband, and not more than thirty, I should think, while he can hardly be less than forty five. From their conversation, I have gathered that they have been married about seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child by the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mister Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother. As the daughter could not have been less than twenty, I can quite imagine that her position must have been uncomfortable with her father's young wife. Missus Rucastle seemed to me to be colorless in mind as well as in feature. She impressed me neither favorably nor the reverse. She was a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light gray eyes wandered cont gennually from one to the other, noting every little want and forestalling it if possible. He was kind to her also in his bluff boisterous fashion, and on the whole they seemed to be a happy couple. And yet she had some secret sorrow. This woman. She would often be lost in deep thought, with the saddest look upon her face. More than once I have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of her child which weighed upon her mind. For I have never met so utterly spoilt and so ill natured a little creature. He is small for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice, the birds, and insects. But I would rather not talk about the creature, mister Holmes, And indeed he has little to do with my story. I am glad of all details, remarked my friend, whether they seem to you to be relevant or not, I shall try not to miss anything of importance. The one unpleasant thing about the house which struck me at once was the appearance and conduct of the servants. There are only two, a man and his wife, taller, for that is his name, is a rough, uncouth man, with grizzled hair and whiskers, and a perpetual smell of drink. Twice since I have been with him he has been quite drunk, and yet mister Rucastle seemed to take no notice of it. His wife is a very tall and strong woman, with a sour face, as silent as Missus Rucastle, and much less amiable. They are a most unpleasant couple. But fortunately I spend most of my time in the nurse tree and my own room, which are next to each other in one corner of the building. For two days after my arrival at the Copper Beaches, my life was very quiet. On the third, Missus Rucastle came down just after breakfast and whispered something to her husband. Oh yes, said he, turning to me. We are very much obliged to you, miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your hair. I assure you that it is not detracted in the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric blue dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and if you will be so good as to put it on, we should both be extremely obliged. The dress which I found waiting for me, was of a peculiar shade of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige, but it bore unmistakable signs of having been worn before. It could not have been a better fit if I had been measured for it. Both mister and Missus Roucastle expressed a delight at the look of it, which seemed quite exaggerated in its vehemence. They were waiting for me in the drawing room, which is a very large room stretching along the entire front of the house, with three long windows reaching down to the floor. A chair had been placed close to the central window, with its back turned towards it. In this I was asked to sit, and then mister Rucastle, walking up and down on the other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary. Missus Rucastle, however, who has evidently no sense of humor, never so much as smiled, but sat with her hands in her lap and a sad, anxious look upon her face. After an hour or so, mister Rucastle suddenly remarked that it was time to commence the duties of the day, and that I might change my dress and go to little Edward in the nursery. Two days later, this same performance was gone through under exactly similar circumstances. Again I changed my dress. Again, I sat in the window, and again I laughed very heartily at the funny stories of which my employer had an immense repertoire, and which he told inimitably. Then he handed me a yellow backed novel, and, moving my chair a little sideways that my own shadow might not fall upon the page, he begged me to read aloud to him. I read for about ten minutes, beginning in the heart of a chapter, and then suddenly, in the middle of a sentence, he ordered me to cease and to change my dress. You can easily imagine, mister Holmes, how curious I became as to what the meaning of this extraordinary performance could possibly be. They were always very careful, I observed to turn my face away from the window, so that I became consumed with a desire to see what was going on behind my back. First it seemed to be impossible, but I soon devised a means. My hand mirror had been broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief. On the next occasion, in the midst of my laughter, I put my handkerchief up to my eyes and was able, with a little management, to see all that there was behind me. I confess that I was disappointed there was nothing, at least that was my first impression. At the second glance, however, I perceived that there was a man standing in the Southampton Road, a small bearded man in a gray suit, who seemed to be looking in my direction. The road is an important highway and there are usually people there. This man, however, was leaning against the railings which bordered our field, and was looking earnestly up. I lowered my handkerchief and glanced at missus Rowcastle, to find her eyes fixed upon me with a most searching gaze. She said nothing, but I am convinced that she had divined that I had a mirror in my hand and had seen what was behind me. She rose at once. Jeoff Row said she, there is an impertinent fellow upon the road there who stares up at Miss Hunter. No friend of yours, Miss Hunter, he asked, No, I know no one in these parts. Dear me, how very impertinent? Kindly turn round and motion to him to go away. Surely it would be better to take no notice. No, no, we should have him loitering here. Always kindly turn round and wave him away like that. I did as I was told, and at the same instant missus Rucastle drew down the blind. That was a week ago, and from that time I have not sat again in the window, nor have I worn the blue dress, nor seen the man in the road. Pray continue, said Holmes. Your narrative promises to be a most interesting one. You will find it rather disconnected, I fear, and there may prove to be little relation between the different incidents of which I speak. On the very first day that I was at the Copper Beaches, mister Rucastle took me to a small outhouse which stands near the kitchen door. As we approached it, I heard the sharp rattling of a chain, and the sound as of a large animal moving about. Look in here, said mister Rucastle, showing me a slit between two planks. Is he not a beauty? I looked through and was conscious of two glowing eyes and of a vague figure huddled up in the darkness. Don't be frightened, said my employer, laughing at the start which I had given. It's only Carlo, my mastiff, I call him mine, but really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much thin, so that he is always as keen as mustard. Taller lets him loose every night, and God helped the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness sake, don't you, ever, on any pretext set your foot over the threshold at night, for it's as much as your life is worth. The warning was no idle one for two nights later. I happened to look out of my bedroom window about two o'clock in the morning. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and the lawn in front of the house was silvered over and almost as bright as day. I was standing wrapped in the peaceful beauty of the scene, when I was aware that something was moving under the shadow of the Copper beaches. As it emerged into the moonshine, I saw what it was. It was a giant dog as large as a calf, tawny tinted with hanging jowl, black muzzle, and huge projecting bones. It walked slowly across the lawn and vanished into the shadow upon the other side. That dreadful sentinel sent a chill to my heart, which I do not think that any burglar could have done. And now I have a very strange experience to tell you. I had, as you know, cut off my hair in London, and I had placed it in a great coil at the bottom of my trunk. One evening, after the child was in bed, I began to amuse myself by examining the furniture of my room and by rearranging my own little things. There was an old chest of drawers in the room, the two upper ones empty and open, the lower one locked. I had filled the first two with my linen, and as I had still much to pack away, I was naturally annoyed at not having the use of the third drawer. It struck me that it might have been fastened by a mere oversight, So I took out my bunch of keys and tried to open it. The very first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never guess what it was. It was my coil of hair. I took it up and examined it. It was of the same peculiar tint and the same thickness. But then the impossibility of the thing obtruded itself upon me. How could my hair have been locked in the drawer. With trembling hands, I undid my trunk, turned out the contents, and drew from the bottom my own hair. I laid the two tresses together, and I assure you that they were identical? Was it not extraordinary puzzle? As I would, I could make nothing at all of what it meant. I returned the strange hair to the drawer, and I said nothing of the matter to the roue Castles, as I felt that I had put myself in the wrong by opening a drawer which they had locked. I am naturally observant, as you may have remarked, mister Holmes, and I soon had a pretty good plan of the whole house in my head. There was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters of the tollers opened into this, but it was invariably locked. One day, however, as I ascended the stair, I met mister Rucastle coming out through this door, his keys in his hand, and a look on his face which made him a very different person to the round, jovial man to whom I was accustomed. His cheeks were red, his brow was all crinkled with anger, and the veins stood out at his temples with passion. He locked the door and hurried past me without a word or a look. This aroused my curiosity, so when I went out for a walk in the grounds with my charge, I strolled round to the side from which I could see the windows of this part of the house. There were four of them in a row, three of which were simply dirty, while the fourth was shuddered up. They were evidently all deserted. As I strolled up and down, glancing at them, occasionally, mister Rucastle came out to me, looking as merry and jovial as ever, Ah said he you must not think me rude if I passed you without a word, My dear young lady, I was preoccupied with business matters. I assured him that I was not offended by the way, said I. You seem to have quite a suite of spare rooms up there, and one of them has the shutters up. He looked surprised, and, as it seemed to me a little startled at my remark. Photography is one of my hobbies, said he, I have made my dark room up there. But dear me, what an observant young lady we have come upon. Who would have believed it? Who would have ever believed it? He spoke in a jesting tone, but there was no jest in his eyes. As he looked at me. I read suspicion there, an annoyance, but no jest. Well, mister Holmes. From the moment that I understood that there was something about that suite of rooms which I was not to know, I was all on fire to go over them. It was not mere curiosity, though I have my share of that. It was more a feeling of duty, a feeling that some good might come from my penetrating to this place. They talk of woman's instinct. Perhaps it was woman's instinct which gave me that feeling. At any rate, it was there, and I was keenly on the lookout for any chance to pass the forbidden door. It was only yesterday that the chance came. I may tell you that besides mister Rucastle, both Toller and his wife find something to do in these deserted rooms. And I once saw him carrying a large black linen bag with him through the door. Recently he has been drinking hard, and yesterday evening he was very drunk. And when I came upstairs there was the key in the door. I had no doubt at all that he had left it there. Mister and Missus Roucastle were both downstairs, and the child was with them, so that I had an admirable opportunity. I turned the key gently in the lock, opened the door, and slipped through. There was a little passage in front of me, unpapered and uncarpeted, which turned at a right angle. At the farther end. Round this corner were three doors in a line, the first and third of which were open. They each led into an empty room, dusty and cheerless with two windows in the one and one in the other, so thick with dirt that the evening light glimmered dimly through them. The center door was closed, and across the outside of it had been fastened one of the broad bars of an iron bed padlocked at one end to a ring in the wall, and fastened at the other with stout cord. The door itself was locked as well, and the key was not there. This barricaded door corresponded clearly with the shuttered window outside, And yet I could see by the glimmer from beneath it that the room was not in darkness. Evidently there was a skylight which led in light from above. As I stood in the passage, gazing at the sinister door and wondering what secret it might veil, I suddenly heard the sound of steps within the room, and saw a shadow pass backward and forward against the little slit of dim light which shone out from under the door. A mad, unreasoning terror rose up in me at the sight, mister Holmes. My overstrung nerves failed me suddenly, and I turned and ran ran, as though some dreadful hand were behind me, Clutching at the skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door and straight into the arms of mister Rucastle, who was waiting outside, so said he, smiling. It was you, then I thought that it must be when I saw the door open. Oh I am so frightened, I panted, my dear young lady. You cannot think how caressing and soothing his manner was, And what has frightened you, my dear young lady. But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was keenly on my guard against him. I was foolish enough to go into the empty wing, I answered, But it is so lonely and eerie in this dim light that I was frightened and ran out again. Oh it is so dreadfully still in there only that, said he, looking at me keenly. Why what did you think, I asked, Why do you think that I locked this door? I am sure that I do not know. It is to keep people out who have no business there. Do you see? He was still smiling in the most amiable manner. I am sure if I had known, well, then you know now, and if you ever put your foot over that threshold again here in an instant the smile hardened into a grin of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a demon. I'll throw you to the mastiff. I was so terrified that I do not know what I did. I suppose that I must have rushed past him into my room. I remember nothing until I found myself lying on my bed, trembling all over. Then I thought of you, mister Holmes. I could not live there longer without some advice. I was frightened of the house, of the man, of the woman, of the servants, even of the child. They were all horrible to me. If I could only bring you down, all would be well. Of course, I might have fled from the house, but my curiosity was almost as strong as my fears. My mind was soon made up. I would send you a wire. I put on my hat and cloak, went down to the office, which is about half a mile from the house, and then returned, feeling very much easier. A horrible doubt came into my mind as I approached the door, lest the dog might be loose. But I remembered that Toller had drunk himself into a state of insensibility that evening, and I knew that he was the only one in the household who had any influence with the savage creature, or who would venture to set him free. I slipped in in safety and lay awake half the night in my joy at the thought of seeing you. I had no difficulty in getting leave to come into Winchester this morning, but I must be back before three o'clock, for mister and Missus Rowcastle are going on a visit and will be away all the evening, so that I must look after the child. Now I have told you all my adventures, mister Holmes, and I should be very glad if you could tell me what it all means, and above all, what I should do. Holmes and I had listened spellbound to this extraordinary story. My friend rose now and paced up and down the room, his hands in his pockets and an expression of the most profound gravity upon his face. Is Toller still drunk? He asked? Yes. I heard his wife tell Missus Rowcastle that she could do nothing with him. That is well, and the Roecastles go out to night. Yes, is there a cellar with a good strong lock, the wine cellar. You seem to me to have acted all through this matter like a very brave and sensible girl, Miss Hunter, Do you think that you could perform one more feat? I should not ask it of you if I did not think you quite an exceptional woman. I will try. What is it? We shall be at the Copper Beaches by seven o'clock, my friend and I. The roof castles will be gone by that time, and Toller will, we hope, be incapable. There only remains missus Toller, who might give the alarm. If you could send her into the cellar on some errand and then turn the key upon her, you would facilitate matters immensely. I will do it, excellent. We shall then look thoroughly into the affair. Of course, there is only one feasible explanation. You have been brought there to personate someone, and the real person is imprisoned in this chamber. That is obvious as to who this prisoner is. I have no doubt that it is the daughter Miss Alice Rucastle. If I remember right who was said to have gone to America. You were chosen, doubtless as resembling her in height, figure and the color of her hair. Hers had been cut off, very possibly in some illness through which she has passed, and so, of course yours had to be sacrificed. Also, by a curious chance, you came upon her tresses. The man in the road was undoubtedly some friend of hers, possibly her fiancee, and no doubt, as you wore the girl's dress and were so like her, he was convinced from your laughter whenever he saw you, and afterwards from your gesture, that Miss Rucastle was perfectly happy, and that she no longer desired his attentions. The dog is let loose at night to prevent him from endeavoring to communicate with her. So much is fairly clear. The most serious point in the case is the disposition of the child. What on earth has that to do with it? I ejaculated, My dear Watson, You, as a medical man, are continually gaining light as to the tendencies of a child by the study of the parents. Don't you see that the converse is equally valid. I have frequently gained my first real insight into the character of parents by studying their children. This child's disposition is abnormally cruel, merely for cruelty's sake, and whether he derives this from his smiling father, as I should suspect or from his mother. It bodes evil for the poor girl who is in their power. I am sure that you are right, mister Holmes, cried our client. A thousand things come back to me which make me certain that you have hid it. Oh, let us lose not an instant in bringing help to this poor creature. We must be circumspect, for we are dealing with a very cunning man. We can do nothing until seven o'clock. At that hour we shall be with you, and it will not be long before we solve the mystery. We were as good as our word, for it was just seven when we reached the Copper Beaches, having put up our trap at a wayside public house. The group of trees, with their dark leaves shining like burnished metal in the light of the setting sun, were sufficient to mark the house even had miss Hunter not been standing smiling on the doorstep. Have you managed it? Asked Holmes. A loud thudding noise came from somewhere downstairs. That is missus Toller in the cellar, said she. Her husband lies snoring on the kitchen rug. Here are his keys, which are the duplicates of mister Rucastle's. You have done well indeed, cried Holmes with enthusiasm. Now lead the way, and we shall soon see the end of this black business. We passed up the stair, unlocked the door, followed on down a passage, and found ourselves in front of the barricade which miss Hunter had described. Holmes cut the cord and removed the transverse bar. Then he tried the various keys in the lock, but without success. No sound came from within, and at the silence, Holmes's face clouded over. I trust that we are not too late, said he. I think, miss Hunter, that we had better go in without you. Now, Watson, put your shoulder to it, and we shall see whether we cannot make our way in. It was an old, rickety door, and gave it once before our united strength. Together we rushed into the room. It was empty. There was no furniture save a little pallet bed, a small table, and a basketful of linen. The skylight above was open, and the prisoner gone. There has been some villainy here, said Holmes. This beauty has guessed Miss Hunter's intentions and has carried his victim off. But how through the skylight, we shall soon see how he managed it? He swung himself up on to the roof. Ah, yes, he cried, here's the end of a long light ladder against the eaves. That is how he did it. But it is impossible, said miss Hunter. The latter was not there when the rooe castles went away. He has come back and done it. I tell you that he is a clever and dangerous man. I should not be very much surprised if this were he whose step I hear now upon the stair. I think, Watson, that it would be as well for you to have your pistol ready. The words were hardly out of his mouth before a man appeared at the door of the room, a very fat and burly man with a heavy stick in his hand. Miss Hunter screamed and shrunk against the wall at the sight of him, but Sherlock Holms sprang forward and confronted him. You villain, said he where's your daughter? The fat man cast his eyes round and then up at the open skylight. It is for me to ask you, you that, he shrieked, You thieves, spies and thieves. I have caught you, have I You are in my power. I'll serve you. He turned and clattered down the stairs as hard as he could go. He's gone for the dog, cried miss Hunter. I have my revolver, said I better close the front door, cried Holmes, and we all rushed down the stairs together. We had hardly reached the hall when we heard the baying of a hound, and then a scream of agony, with a horrible, worrying sound, which it was dreadful to listen to. An elderly man with a red face and shaking limbs came staggering out at a side door. My god, he cried, some one has loosed the dog. It's not been fed for two days. Quit quick, or it'll be too late. Holmes and I rushed out and round the angle of the house, with Taller hurrying behind us. There was the huge, famished brute, its black muzzled buried in Rucastle's throat while he writhed and screamed upon the ground. Running up, I blew its brains out, and it fell over, with its keen white teeth still meeting in the great creases of his neck. With much labor, we separated them and carried him, living but horribly mangled, into the house. We laid him upon the drawing room sofa and having dispatched the sobered Toller to bear the news to his wife. I did what I could to relieve his pain. We were all assembled round him when the door opened and a tall, gaunt woman entered the room. Missus Toller cried, Miss Hunter. Yes, miss mister Rucastle let me out when he came back before he went up to you. Ah, miss, it is a pity you didn't let me know what you were planning for I would have told you that your pains were wasted, ha said Holmes, looking keenly at her. It is clear that missus Toller knows more about this matter than any one else. Yes, Sir, I do, and I am ready enough to tell what I know. Then pray, sit down and let us hear it, for there are several points on which I must confess that I am still in the dark. I will soon make it clear to you, said she, and i'd have done so before now if I could have got out from the cellar. If there's police court business over this, you'll remember that I was the one that stood your friend, and that I was miss Alice's friend too. She was never happy at home. Miss Alice wasn't from the time that her father married again. She was slighted like and had no say in anything, but it never really became bad for her until after she met mister Fowler at a friend's house. As well as I could learn, miss Alice had rights of her own by will, but she was so quiet and patient she was that she never said a word about them, but just left everything in mister Rucastle's hands. He knew he was safe with her. But when there was a chance of a husband coming forward who would ask for all that the law would give him, then her father thought it time to put a stop on it. He wanted her to sign a paper so that whether she married or not, he could use her money. When she wouldn't do it, he kept on worrying her until she got brain fever, and for six weeks was at death's door. Then she got better at last, all worn to a shadow and with her beautiful hair cut off. But that didn't make no change in her young man, and he stuck to her as true as man could be. Ah said Holmes. I think that what you have been good enough to tell us makes the matter fairly clear, and that I can deduce all that remains mister Rucastle. Then I presume took to this system of imprisonment, yes, sir, and brought miss Hunter down from London in order to get rid of the disagreeable persistence of mister Fowler. That was it, sir. But mister Fowler, being a persevering man, as a good sea man should be blockaded the house, and having met you, succeeded by certain arguments, metallic or otherwise in convincing you that your interests were the same as his. Mister Fowler was a very kind spoken, free handed gentleman, said Missus Toller serenely, And in this way he managed that your good man should have no want of drink, and that a latter should be ready at the moment when your master had gone out. You have it, sir, just as it happened. I am sure we owe you an apology, Missus Toller, said Holmes, for you have certainly cleared up everything which puzzled us. And here comes the country surgeon and Missus Rucastle. So I think, Watson, that we had best escort Miss Hunter back to Winchester, as it seems to me that our locust standy now is rather a questionable one. And thus was solved the mystery of the sinister house with the Copper Beaches in front of the door. Mister Rucastle survived, but was always a broken man, kept alives solely through the care of his devoted wife. They still live with their old servants, who probably know so much of Rowcastle's past life that he finds it difficult to part from them. Mister Fowler and Miss Rucastle were married by special license in Southampton the day after their flight, and he is now the holder of a government appointment in the island of Mauritius. As to Miss Violet Hunter, my friend Holmes, rather, to my disappointment, manifested no further interest in her, when once she had ceased to be the center of one of his problems. And she is now the head of a private school at Walsall, where I believe that she has met with considerable success. End of the Adventure of the Copper Beaches. This concludes The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle