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ElapticAI-512

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father’s dying words. They are all, as he remarks, very much against
the son.
Holmes laughed softly to himself and stretched himself out upon the
cushioned seat. “Both you and the coroner have been at some pains,
said he, “to single out the very strongest points in the young man’s
favour. Don’t you see that you alternately give him credit for having
too much imagination and too little? Too little, if he could not invent
a cause of quarrel which would give him the sympathy of the jury; too
much, if he evolved from his own inner consciousness anything so
outré as a dying reference to a rat, and the incident of the
vanishing cloth. No, sir, I shall approach this case from the point of
view that what this young man says is true, and we shall see whither
that hypothesis will lead us. And now here is my pocket Petrarch, and
not another word shall I say of this case until we are on the scene of
action. We lunch at Swindon, and I see that we shall be there in twenty
minutes.
It was nearly four o’clock when we at last, after passing through the
beautiful Stroud Valley, and over the broad gleaming Severn, found
ourselves at the pretty little country-town of Ross. A lean,
ferret-like man, furtive and sly-looking, was waiting for us upon the
platform. In spite of the light brown dustcoat and leather-leggings
which he wore in deference to his rustic surroundings, I had no
difficulty in recognising Lestrade, of Scotland Yard. With him we drove
to the Hereford Arms where a room had already been engaged for us.
“I have ordered a carriage, said Lestrade as we sat over a cup of tea.
“I knew your energetic nature, and that you would not be happy until
you had been on the scene of the crime.
“It was very nice and complimentary of you, Holmes answered. “It is
entirely a question of barometric pressure.
Lestrade looked startled. “I do not quite follow, he said.
“How is the glass? Twenty-nine, I see. No wind, and not a cloud in the
sky. I have a caseful of cigarettes here which need smoking, and the
sofa is very much superior to the usual country hotel abomination. I do
not think that it is probable that I shall use the carriage to-night.
Lestrade laughed indulgently. “You have, no doubt, already formed your
conclusions from the newspapers, he said. “The case is as plain as a
pikestaff, and the more one goes into it the plainer it becomes. Still,
of course, one can’t refuse a lady, and such a very positive one, too.
She has heard of you, and would have your opinion, though I repeatedly
told her that there was nothing which you could do which I had not
already done. Why, bless my soul! here is her carriage at the door.
He had hardly spoken before there rushed into the room one of the most
lovely young women that I have ever seen in my life. Her violet eyes
shining, her lips parted, a pink flush upon her cheeks, all thought of
her natural reserve lost in her overpowering excitement and concern.
“Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes! she cried, glancing from one to the other of
us, and finally, with a woman’s quick intuition, fastening upon my
companion, “I am so glad that you have come. I have driven down to tell
you so. I know that James didn’t do it. I know it, and I want you to
start upon your work knowing it, too. Never let yourself doubt upon
that point. We have known each other since we were little children, and
I know his faults as no one else does; but he is too tender-hearted to
hurt a fly. Such a charge is absurd to anyone who really knows him.
“I hope we may clear him, Miss Turner, said Sherlock Holmes. “You may
rely upon my doing all that I can.
“But you have read the evidence. You have formed some conclusion? Do
you not see some loophole, some flaw? Do you not yourself think that he
is innocent?
“I think that it is very probable.
“There, now! she cried, throwing back her head and looking defiantly
at Lestrade. “You hear! He gives me hopes.
Lestrade shrugged his shoulders. “I am afraid that my colleague has
been a little quick in forming his conclusions, he said.
“But he is right. Oh! I know that he is right. James never did it. And
about his quarrel with his father, I am sure that the reason why he
would not speak about it to the coroner was because I was concerned in
it.
“In what way? asked Holmes.
“It is no time for me to hide anything. James and his father had many
disagreements about me. Mr. McCarthy was very anxious that there should
be a marriage between us. James and I have always loved each other as
brother and sister; but of course he is young and has seen very little
of life yet, and—and—well, he naturally did not wish to do anything
like that yet. So there were quarrels, and this, I am sure, was one of
them.
“And your father? asked Holmes. “Was he in favour of such a union?
“No, he was averse to it also. No one but Mr. McCarthy was in favour of
it. A quick blush passed over her fresh young face as Holmes shot one
of his keen, questioning glances at her.
“Thank you for this information, said he. “May I see your father if I