hatIwouldhavenothingmoretodowithhim.’Sherummagedinabureau,andpresentlysheproducedaphotographofawoman,shamefullydefacedandmutilatedwithaknife.‘Thatismyownphotograph,’shesaid.‘Hesentittomeinthatstate,withhiscurse,uponmyweddingmorning.’
“‘Well,’saidI,‘atleasthehasforgivenyounow,sincehehasleftallhispropertytoyourson.’
“‘NeithermysonnorIwantanythingfromJonasOldacre,deadoralive!’shecried,withaproperspirit.‘ThereisaGodinheaven,Mr.Holmes,andthatsameGodwhohaspunishedthatwickedmanwillshow,inHisowngoodtime,thatmyson’shandsareguiltlessofhisblood.’
“Well,Itriedoneortwoleads,butcouldgetatnothingwhichwouldhelpourhypothesis,andseveralpointswhichwouldmakeagainstit.IgaveitupatlastandoffIwenttoNorwood.
“Thisplace,DeepDeneHouse,isabigmodernvillaofstaringbrick,standingbackinitsowngrounds,withalaurel-clumpedlawninfrontofit.Totherightandsomedistancebackfromtheroadwasthetimber-yardwhichhadbeenthesceneofthefire.Here’saroughplanonaleafofmynotebook.ThiswindowontheleftistheonewhichopensintoOldacre’sroom.Youcanlookintoitfromtheroad,yousee.ThatisabouttheonlybitofconsolationIhavehadto-day.Lestradewasnotthere,buthisheadconstabledidthehonours.Theyhadjustfoundagreattreasure-trove.Theyhadspentthemorningrakingamongtheashesoftheburnedwood-pile,andbesidesthecharredorganicremainstheyhadsecuredseveraldiscolouredmetaldiscs.Iexaminedthemwithcare,andtherewasnodoubtthattheyweretrouserbuttons.Ievendistinguishedthatoneofthemwasmarkedwiththenameof‘Hyams,’whowasOldacrestailor.Ithenworkedthelawnverycarefullyforsignsandtraces,butthisdroughthasmadeeverythingashardasiron.Nothingwastobeseensavethatsomebodyorbundlehadbeendraggedthroughalowprivethedgewhichisinalinewiththewood-pile.Allthat,ofcourse,fitsinwiththeofficialtheory.IcrawledaboutthelawnwithanAugustsunonmyback,butIgotupattheendofanhournowiserthanbefore.
“Well,afterthisfiascoIwentintothebedroomandexaminedthatalso.Theblood-stainswereveryslight,meresmearsanddiscolourations,butundoubtedlyfresh.Thestickhadbeenremoved,buttherealsothemarkswereslight.Thereisnodoubtaboutthestickbelongingtoourclient.Headmitsit.Footmarksofbothmencouldbemadeoutonthecarpet,butnoneofanythirdperson,whichagainisatrickfortheotherside.Theywerepilinguptheirscoreallthetimeandwewereatastandstill.
“OnlyonelittlegleamofhopedidIget—andyetitamountedtonothing.Iexaminedthecontentsofthesafe,mostofwhichhadbeentakenoutandleftonthetable.Thepapershadbeenmadeupintosealedenvelopes,oneortwoofwhichhadbeenopenedbythepolice.Theywerenot,sofarasIcouldjudge,ofanygreatvalue,nordidthebank-bookshowthatMr.Oldacrewasinsuchveryaffluentcircumstances.Butitseemedtomethatallthepaperswerenotthere.Therewereallusionstosomedeeds—possiblythemorevaluable—whichIcouldnotfind.This,ofcourse,ifwecoulddefinitelyproveit,wouldturnLestrade’sargumentagainsthimself,forwhowouldstealathingifheknewthathewouldshortlyinheritit?
“Finally,havingdrawneveryothercoverandpickedupnoscent,Itriedmyluckwiththehousekeeper.Mrs.Lexingtonishername—alittle,dark,silentperson,withsuspiciousandsidelongeyes.Shecouldtellussomethingifshewould—Iamconvincedofit.Butshewasascloseaswax.Yes,shehadletMr.McFarlaneinathalf-pastnine.Shewishedherhandhadwitheredbeforeshehaddoneso.Shehadgonetobedathalf-pastten.Herroomwasattheotherendofthehouse,andshecouldhearnothingofwhathadpassed.Mr.McFarlanehadlefthishat,andtothebestofherbeliefhisstick,inthehall.Shehadbeenawakenedbythealarmoffire.Herpoor,dearmasterhadcertainlybeenmurdered.Hadheanyenemies?Well,everymanhadenemies,butMr.Oldacrekepthimselfverymuchtohimself,andonlymetpeopleinthewayofbusiness.Shehadseenthebuttons,andwassurethattheybelongedtotheclotheswhichhehadwornlastnight.Thewood-pilewasverydry,forithadnotrainedforamonth.Itburnedliketinder,andbythetimeshereachedthespot,nothingcouldbeseenbutflames.Sheandallthefiremensmelledtheburnedfleshfrominsideit.Sheknewnothingofthepapers,norofMr.Oldacre’sprivateaffairs.
“So,mydearWatson,there’smyreportofafailure.Andyet—andyet—”heclenchedhisthinhandsinaparoxysmofconviction—“Iknowit’sallwrong.Ifeelitinmybones.Thereissomethingthathasnotcomeout,andthathousekeeperknowsit.Therewasasortofsulkydefianceinhereyes,whichonlygoeswithguiltyknowledge.However,there’snogoodtalkinganymoreaboutit,Watsonbutunlesssomeluckychanc