dthehinges,buttheywereofsolidiron,builtfirmlyintothemassivemasonry.“Hum!”saidhe,scratchinghischininsomeperplexity,“mytheorycertainlypresentssomedifficulties.Noonecouldpasstheseshuttersiftheywerebolted.Well,weshallseeiftheinsidethrowsanylightuponthematter.”
Asmallsidedoorledintothewhitewashedcorridorfromwhichthethreebedroomsopened.Holmesrefusedtoexaminethethirdchamber,sowepassedatoncetothesecond,thatinwhichMissStonerwasnowsleeping,andinwhichhersisterhadmetwithherfate.Itwasahomelylittleroom,withalowceilingandagapingfireplace,afterthefashionofoldcountry-houses.Abrownchestofdrawersstoodinonecorner,anarrowwhite-counterpanedbedinanother,andadressing-tableontheleft-handsideofthewindow.Thesearticles,withtwosmallwicker-workchairs,madeupallthefurnitureintheroomsaveforasquareofWiltoncarpetinthecentre.Theboardsroundandthepanellingofthewallswereofbrown,worm-eatenoak,sooldanddiscolouredthatitmayhavedatedfromtheoriginalbuildingofthehouse.Holmesdrewoneofthechairsintoacornerandsatsilent,whilehiseyestravelledroundandroundandupanddown,takingineverydetailoftheapartment.
“Wheredoesthatbellcommunicatewith?”heaskedatlastpointingtoathickbell-ropewhichhungdownbesidethebed,thetasselactuallylyinguponthepillow.
“Itgoestothehousekeeper’sroom.”
“Itlooksnewerthantheotherthings?”
“Yes,itwasonlyputthereacoupleofyearsago.”
“Yoursisteraskedforit,Isuppose?”
“No,Ineverheardofherusingit.Weusedalwaystogetwhatwewantedforourselves.”
“Indeed,itseemedunnecessarytoputsoniceabell-pullthere.YouwillexcusemeforafewminuteswhileIsatisfymyselfastothisfloor.”Hethrewhimselfdownuponhisfacewithhislensinhishandandcrawledswiftlybackwardandforward,examiningminutelythecracksbetweentheboards.Thenhedidthesamewiththewood-workwithwhichthechamberwaspanelled.Finallyhewalkedovertothebedandspentsometimeinstaringatitandinrunninghiseyeupanddownthewall.Finallyhetookthebell-ropeinhishandandgaveitabrisktug.
“Why,it’sadummy,”saidhe.
“Won’titring?”
“No,itisnotevenattachedtoawire.Thisisveryinteresting.Youcanseenowthatitisfastenedtoahookjustabovewherethelittleopeningfortheventilatoris.”
“Howveryabsurd!Inevernoticedthatbefore.”
“Verystrange!”mutteredHolmes,pullingattherope.“Thereareoneortwoverysingularpointsaboutthisroom.Forexample,whatafoolabuildermustbetoopenaventilatorintoanotherroom,when,withthesametrouble,hemighthavecommunicatedwiththeoutsideair!”
“Thatisalsoquitemodern,”saidthelady.
“Doneaboutthesametimeasthebell-rope?”remarkedHolmes.
“Yes,therewereseverallittlechangescarriedoutaboutthattime.”
“Theyseemtohavebeenofamostinterestingcharacter—dummybell-ropes,andventilatorswhichdonotventilate.Withyourpermission,MissStoner,weshallnowcarryourresearchesintotheinnerapartment.”
Dr.GrimesbyRoylott’schamberwaslargerthanthatofhisstep-daughter,butwasasplainlyfurnished.Acamp-bed,asmallwoodenshelffullofbooks,mostlyofatechnicalcharacter,anarmchairbesidethebed,aplainwoodenchairagainstthewall,aroundtable,andalargeironsafeweretheprincipalthingswhichmettheeye.Holmeswalkedslowlyroundandexaminedeachandallofthemwiththekeenestinterest.
“What’sinhere?”heasked,tappingthesafe.
“Mystepfather’sbusinesspapers.”
“Oh!youhaveseeninside,then?”
“Onlyonce,someyearsago.Irememberthatitwasfullofpapers.”
“Thereisn’tacatinit,forexample?”
“No.Whatastrangeidea!”
“Well,lookatthis!”Hetookupasmallsaucerofmilkwhichstoodonthetopofit.
“Nowedon’tkeepacat.Butthereisacheetahandababoon.”
“Ah,yes,ofcourse!Well,acheetahisjustabigcat,andyetasaucerofmilkdoesnotgoveryfarinsatisfyingitswants,Idaresay.ThereisonepointwhichIshouldwishtodetermine.”Hesquatteddowninfrontofthewoodenchairandexaminedtheseatofitwiththegreatestattention.
“Thankyou.Thatisquitesettled,”saidhe,risingandputtinghislensinhispocket.“Hullo!Hereissomethinginteresting!”
Theobjectwhichhadcaughthiseyewasasmalldoglashhungononecornerofthebed.Thelash,however,wascurleduponitselfandtiedsoastomakealoopofwhipcord.
“Whatdoyoumakeofthat,Watson?”
“It’sacommonenoughlash.ButIdon’tknowwhyitshouldbetied.”
“Thatisnotquitesocommon,isit?Ah,me!it’sawickedworld,andwhenaclevermanturnshisbrainstocrimeitistheworstofall.IthinkthatIhaveseenenoughnow,MissStoner,andwithyourpermissionweshallwalkoutuponthelawn.”
Ihadneverseenmyfriend’sfacesogrimorhisbrowsodarkasitwaswhenweturnedfromthesceneofthisinvestigation.Wehadwalkedseveraltimesupanddownthelawn,neitherMissStonernormyselflikingtobreakinuponhisthou