Watson."
"Bless you, sir, we know you very well," said the sergeant, "but
you can't stay here without a warrant."
"Of course not. I quite understand that."
"Arrest him!" cried Peters.
"We know where to lay our hands on this gentleman if he is
wanted," said the sergeant majestically, "but you'll have to go,
Mr. Holmes."
"Yes, Watson, we shall have to go."
A minute later we were in the street once more. Holmes was as
cool as ever, but I was hot with anger and humiliation. The
sergeant had followed us.
"Sorry, Mr. Holmes, but that's the law."
"Exactly, Sergeant, you could not do otherwise."
"I expect there was good reason for your presence there. If
there is anything I can do--"
"It's a missing lady, Sergeant, and we think she is in that
house. I expect a warrant presently."
"Then I'll keep my eye on the parties, Mr. Holmes. If anything
comes along, I will surely let you know."
It was only nine o'clock, and we were off full cry upon the trail
at once. First we drove to Brixton Workhoused Infirmary, where
we found that it was indeed the truth that a charitable couple
had called some days before, that they had claimed an imbecile
old woman as a former servant, and that they had obtained
permission to take her away with them. No surprise was expressed
at the news that she had since died.
The doctor was our next goal. He had been called in, had found
the woman dying of pure senility, had actually seen her pass
away, and had signed the certificate in due form. "I assure you
that everything was perfectly normal and there was no room for
foul play in the matter," said he. Nothing in the house had
struck him as suspicious save that for people of their class it
was remarkable that they should have no servant. So far and no
further went the doctor.
Finally we found our way to Scotland Yard. There had been
difficulties of procedure in regard to the warrant. Some delay
was inevitable. The magistrate's signature might not be obtained
until next morning. If Holmes would call about nine he could go
down with Lestrade and see it acted upon. So ended the day, save
that near midnight our friend, the sergeant, called to say that
he had seen flickering lights here and there in the windows of
the great dark house, but that no one had left it and none had
entered. We could but pray for patience and wait for the morrow.
Sherlock Holmes was too irritable for conversation and too
restless for sleep. I left him smoking hard, with his heavy,
dark brows knotted together, and his long, nervous fingers
tapping upon the arms of his chair, as he turned over in his mind
every possible solution of the mystery. Several times in the
course of the night I heard him prowling about the house.
Finally, just after I had been called in the morning, he rushed
into my room. He was in his dressing-gown, but his pale, hollow-
eyed face told me that his night had been a sleepless one.
"What time was the funeral? Eight, was it not?" he asked
eagerly. "Well, it is 7:20 now. Good heavens, Watson, what has
become of any brains that God has given me? Quick, man, quick!
It's life or death--a hundred chances on death to one on life.
I'll never forgive myself, never, if we are too late!"
Five minutes had not passed before we were flying in a hansom
down Baker Street. But even so it was twenty-five to eight as we
passed Big Ben, and eight struck as we tore down the Brixton
Road. But others were late as well as we. Ten minutes after the
hour the hearse was still standing at the door of the house, and
even as our foaming horse came to a halt the coffin, supported by
three men, appeared on the threshold. Holmes darted forward and
barred their way.
"Take it back!" he cried, laying his hand on the breast of the
foremost. "Take it back this instant!"
"What the devil do you mean? Once again I ask you, where is your
warrant?" shouted the furious Peters, his big red face glaring
over the farther end of the coffin.
"The warrant is on its way. The coffin shall remain in the house
until it comes."
The authority in Holmes's voice had its effect upon the bearers.
Peters had suddenly vanished into the house, and they obeyed
these new orders. "Quick, Watson, quick! Here is a screw-
driver!" he shouted as the coffin was replaced upon the table.
"Here's one for you, my man! A sovreign if the lid comes off in
a minute! Ask no questions--work away! That's good! Another!
And another! Now pull all together! It's giving! It's giving!
Ah, that does it at last."
With a united effort we tore off the coffin-lid. As we did so
there came from the inside a stupefying and overpowering smell of
chloroform. A body lay within, its head all wreathed in cotton-
wool, which had been soaked in the narcotic. Holmes plucked it
off and disclosed the statuesque face of a handsome and spiritual
woman of middle age. In an instant he had passed his arm round
the figure and raised her to a sitting position.
"Is she gone, Watson? Is there a spark left? Surely we are not
too late!"
For half an hour it seemed that we were. What with actual
suffocation, and what with the poisonous fumes of the chloroform,
the Lady Frances seemed to have passed the last point of recall.
And then, at last, with artificial respiration, with injected
ether, and with every device that science could suggest, some
flutter of life, some quiver of the eyelids, some dimming of a
mirror, spoke of the slowly returning life. A cab had driven up,
and Holmes, parting the blind, looked out at it. "Here is
Lestrade with his warrant," said he. "He will find that his
birds have flown. And here," he added as a heavy step hurried
along the passage, "is someone who has a better right to nurse
this lady than we have. Good morning, Mr. Green; I think that
the sooner we can move the Lady Frances the better. Meanwhile,
the funeral may proceed, and the poor old woman who still lies in
that coffin may go to her last resting-place alone."
"Should you care to add the case to your annals, my dear Watson,"
said Holmes that evening, "it can only be as an example of that
temporary eclipse to which even the best-balanced mind may be
exposed. Such slips are common to all mortals, and the greatest
is he who can recognize and repair them. To this modified credit
I may, perhaps, make some claim. My night was haunted by the
thought that somewhere a clue, a strange sentence, a curious
observation, had come under my notice and had been too easily
dismissed. Then, suddenly, in the gray of the morning, the words
came back to me. It was the remark of the undertaker's wife, as
reported by Philip Green. She had said, 'It should be there
before now. It took longer, being out of the ordinary.' It was
the coffin of which she spoke. It had been out of the ordinary.
That could only mean that it had been made to some special
measurement. But why? Why? Then in an instant I remembered the
deep sides, and the little wasted figure at the bottom. Why so
large a coffin for so small a body? To leave room for another
body. Both would be buried under the one certificate. It had all
been so clear, if only my own sight had not been dimmed. At
eight the Lady Frances would be buried. Our one chance was to
stop the coffin before it left the house.
"It was a desperate chance that we might find her alive, but it
WAS a chance, as the result showed. These people had never, to
my knowledge, done a murder. They might shrink from actual
violence at the last. The could bury her with no sign of how she
met her end, and even if she were exhumed there was a chance for
them. I hoped that such considerations might prevail with them.
You can reconstruct the scene well enough. You saw the horrible
den upstairs, where the poor lady had been kept so long. They
rushed in and overpowered her with their chloroform, carried her
down, poured more into the coffin to insure against her waking,
and then screwed down the lid. A clever device, Watson. It is
new to me in the annals of crime. If our ex-missionary friends
escape the clutches of Lestrade, I shall expect to hear of some
brilliant incidents in their future career."
End of Project BookishMall.com Etext The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax
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