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“Quite so. |
“Then comes our expedition of to-day. By an examination of the ground I |
gained the trifling details which I gave to that imbecile Lestrade, as |
to the personality of the criminal. |
“But how did you gain them? |
“You know my method. It is founded upon the observation of trifles. |
“His height I know that you might roughly judge from the length of his |
stride. His boots, too, might be told from their traces. |
“Yes, they were peculiar boots. |
“But his lameness? |
“The impression of his right foot was always less distinct than his |
left. He put less weight upon it. Why? Because he limped—he was lame. |
“But his left-handedness. |
“You were yourself struck by the nature of the injury as recorded by |
the surgeon at the inquest. The blow was struck from immediately |
behind, and yet was upon the left side. Now, how can that be unless it |
were by a left-handed man? He had stood behind that tree during the |
interview between the father and son. He had even smoked there. I found |
the ash of a cigar, which my special knowledge of tobacco ashes enables |
me to pronounce as an Indian cigar. I have, as you know, devoted some |
attention to this, and written a little monograph on the ashes of 140 |
different varieties of pipe, cigar, and cigarette tobacco. Having found |
the ash, I then looked round and discovered the stump among the moss |
where he had tossed it. It was an Indian cigar, of the variety which |
are rolled in Rotterdam. |
“And the cigar-holder? |
“I could see that the end had not been in his mouth. Therefore he used |
a holder. The tip had been cut off, not bitten off, but the cut was not |
a clean one, so I deduced a blunt pen-knife. |
“Holmes, I said, “you have drawn a net round this man from which he |
cannot escape, and you have saved an innocent human life as truly as if |
you had cut the cord which was hanging him. I see the direction in |
which all this points. The culprit is— |
“Mr. John Turner, cried the hotel waiter, opening the door of our |
sitting-room, and ushering in a visitor. |
The man who entered was a strange and impressive figure. His slow, |
limping step and bowed shoulders gave the appearance of decrepitude, |
and yet his hard, deep-lined, craggy features, and his enormous limbs |
showed that he was possessed of unusual strength of body and of |
character. His tangled beard, grizzled hair, and outstanding, drooping |
eyebrows combined to give an air of dignity and power to his |
appearance, but his face was of an ashen white, while his lips and the |
corners of his nostrils were tinged with a shade of blue. It was clear |
to me at a glance that he was in the grip of some deadly and chronic |
disease. |
“Pray sit down on the sofa, said Holmes gently. “You had my note? |
“Yes, the lodge-keeper brought it up. You said that you wished to see |
me here to avoid scandal. |
“I thought people would talk if I went to the Hall. |
“And why did you wish to see me? He looked across at my companion with |
despair in his weary eyes, as though his question was already answered. |
“Yes, said Holmes, answering the look rather than the words. “It is |
so. I know all about McCarthy. |
The old man sank his face in his hands. “God help me! he cried. “But I |
would not have let the young man come to harm. I give you my word that |
I would have spoken out if it went against him at the Assizes. |
“I am glad to hear you say so, said Holmes gravely. |
“I would have spoken now had it not been for my dear girl. It would |
break her heart—it will break her heart when she hears that I am |
arrested. |
“It may not come to that, said Holmes. |
“What? |
“I am no official agent. I understand that it was your daughter who |
required my presence here, and I am acting in her interests. Young |
McCarthy must be got off, however. |
“I am a dying man, said old Turner. “I have had diabetes for years. My |
doctor says it is a question whether I shall live a month. Yet I would |
rather die under my own roof than in a gaol. |
Holmes rose and sat down at the table with his pen in his hand and a |
bundle of paper before him. “Just tell us the truth, he said. “I shall |
jot down the facts. You will sign it, and Watson here can witness it. |
Then I could produce your confession at the last extremity to save |
young McCarthy. I promise you that I shall not use it unless it is |
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