tformypains.Nothingofthesort.’
“‘Thenletmedoso?’
“‘No,Iforbidyou.Iwon’thaveafussmadeaboutsuchnonsense.’
“Itwasinvaintoarguewithhim,forhewasaveryobstinateman.Iwentabout,however,withaheartwhichwasfullofforebodings.
“Onthethirddayafterthecomingofthelettermyfatherwentfromhometovisitanoldfriendofhis,MajorFreebody,whoisincommandofoneofthefortsuponPortsdownHill.Iwasgladthatheshouldgo,foritseemedtomethathewasfartherfromdangerwhenhewasawayfromhome.Inthat,however,Iwasinerror.UpontheseconddayofhisabsenceIreceivedatelegramfromthemajor,imploringmetocomeatonce.Myfatherhadfallenoveroneofthedeepchalk-pitswhichaboundintheneighbourhood,andwaslyingsenseless,withashatteredskull.Ihurriedtohim,buthepassedawaywithouthavingeverrecoveredhisconsciousness.Hehad,asitappears,beenreturningfromFarehaminthetwilight,andasthecountrywasunknowntohim,andthechalk-pitunfenced,thejuryhadnohesitationinbringinginaverdictof‘deathfromaccidentalcauses.’CarefullyasIexaminedeveryfactconnectedwithhisdeath,Iwasunabletofindanythingwhichcouldsuggesttheideaofmurder.Therewerenosignsofviolence,nofootmarks,norobbery,norecordofstrangershavingbeenseenupontheroads.AndyetIneednottellyouthatmymindwasfarfromatease,andthatIwaswell-nighcertainthatsomefoulplothadbeenwovenroundhim.
“InthissinisterwayIcameintomyinheritance.YouwillaskmewhyIdidnotdisposeofit?Ianswer,becauseIwaswellconvincedthatourtroubleswereinsomewaydependentuponanincidentinmyuncle’slife,andthatthedangerwouldbeaspressinginonehouseasinanother.
“ItwasinJanuary,’85,thatmypoorfathermethisend,andtwoyearsandeightmonthshaveelapsedsincethen.DuringthattimeIhavelivedhappilyatHorsham,andIhadbeguntohopethatthiscursehadpassedawayfromthefamily,andthatithadendedwiththelastgeneration.Ihadbeguntotakecomforttoosoon,howeveryesterdaymorningtheblowfellintheveryshapeinwhichithadcomeuponmyfather.”
Theyoungmantookfromhiswaistcoatacrumpledenvelope,andturningtothetableheshookoutuponitfivelittledriedorangepips.
“Thisistheenvelope,”hecontinued.“ThepostmarkisLondon—easterndivision.Withinaretheverywordswhichwereuponmyfather’slastmessage:‘K.K.K.’andthen‘Putthepapersonthesundial.’”
“Whathaveyoudone?”askedHolmes.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Totellthetruth”—hesankhisfaceintohisthin,whitehands—“Ihavefelthelpless.Ihavefeltlikeoneofthosepoorrabbitswhenthesnakeiswrithingtowardsit.Iseemtobeinthegraspofsomeresistless,inexorableevil,whichnoforesightandnoprecautionscanguardagainst.”
“Tut!tut!”criedSherlockHolmes.“Youmustact,man,oryouarelost.Nothingbutenergycansaveyou.Thisisnotimefordespair.”
“Ihaveseenthepolice.”
“Ah!”
“Buttheylistenedtomystorywithasmile.Iamconvincedthattheinspectorhasformedtheopinionthatthelettersareallpracticaljokes,andthatthedeathsofmyrelationswerereallyaccidents,asthejurystated,andwerenottobeconnectedwiththewarnings.”
Holmesshookhisclenchedhandsintheair.“Incredibleimbecility!”hecried.
“Theyhave,however,allowedmeapoliceman,whomayremaininthehousewithme.”
“Hashecomewithyouto-night?”
“No.Hisordersweretostayinthehouse.”
AgainHolmesravedintheair.
“Whydidyoucometome?”hesaid,“and,aboveall,whydidyounotcomeatonce?”
“Ididnotknow.Itwasonlyto-daythatIspoketoMajorPrendergastaboutmytroublesandwasadvisedbyhimtocometoyou.”
“Itisreallytwodayssinceyouhadtheletter.Weshouldhaveacted