“I am coming to be of the same opinion, Miss Cushing,” saidHolmes, taking a seat beside her. “I think that it is more thanprobable—” He paused, and I was surprised, on glancing roundto see that he was staring with singular intentness at the lady’sprofile. Surprise and satisfaction were both for an instant to beread upon his eager face, though when she glanced round to findout the cause of his silence he had become as demure as ever. Istared hard myself at her flat, grizzled hair, her trim cap, her littlegilt earrings, her placid features; but I could see nothing whichcould account for my companion’s evident excitement.
“There were one or two questions——”
“Oh, I am weary of questions!” cried Miss Cushing impatiently.
“You have two sisters, I believe.”
“How could you know that?”
“I observed the very instant that I entered the room that youhave a portrait group of three ladies upon the mantelpiece, one ofwhom is undoubtedly yourself, while the others are so exceedinglylike you that there could be no doubt of the relationship.”
“Yes, you are quite right. Those are my sisters, Sarah and Mary.”
“And here at my elbow is another portrait, taken at Liverpool,of your younger sister, in the company of a man who appears to bea steward by his uniform. I observe that she was unmarried at thetime.”
“You are very quick at observing.”
1120 The Complete Sherlock Holmes
“That is my trade.”
“Well, you are quite right. But she was married to Mr. Brownerfew days afterwards. He was on the South American line whenthat was taken, but he was so fond of her that he couldn’t abide toleave her for so long, and he got into the Liverpool and Londonboats.”
“Ah, the Conqueror, perhaps?”
“No, the May Day, when last I heard. Jim came down here tosee me once. That was before he broke the pledge; but afterwardshe would always take drink when he was ashore, and a little drinkwould send him stark, staring mad. Ah! it was a bad day that everhe took a glass in his hand again. First he dropped me, then hequarrelled with Sarah, and now that Mary has stopped writing wedon’t know how things are going with them.”
It was evident that Miss Cushing had come upon a subject onwhich she felt very deeply. Like most people who lead a lonelylife, she was shy at first, but ended by becoming extremelycommunicative. She told us many details about her brother-in-lawthe steward, and then wandering off on the subject of her formerlodgers, the medical students, she gave us a long account of theirdelinquencies, with their names and those of their hospitals.
Holmes listened attentively to everything, throwing in a questionfrom time to time.
“About your second sister, Sarah,” said he. “I wonder, since youare both maiden ladies, that you do not keep house together.”
“Ah! you don’t know Sarah’s temper or you would wonder nomore. I tried it when I came to Croydon, and we kept on untilabout two months ago, when we had to part. I don’t want to say aword against my own sister, but she was always meddlesome andhard to please, was Sarah.”
“You say that she quarrelled with your Liverpool relations.”
“Yes, and they were the best of friends at one time. Why, shewent up there to live in order to be near them. And now she hasno word hard enough for Jim Browner. The last six months thatshe was here she would speak of nothing but his drinking and hisways. He had caught her meddling, I suspect, and given her a bitof his mind, and that was the start of it.”
“Thank you, Miss Cushing,” said Holmes, rising and bowing.
Your sister Sarah lives, I think you said, at New Street,Wallington? Good-bye, and I am very sorry that you should havebeen troubled over a case with which, as you say, you have nothingwhatever to do.”
There was a cab passing as we came out, and Holmes hailed it.
“How far to Wallington?” he asked.
“Only about a mile, sir.”
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“Very good. Jump in, Watson. We must strike while the ironis hot. Simple as the case is, there have been one or two veryinstructive details in connection with it. Just pull up at a telegraphoffice as you pass, cabby.”
Holmes sent off a short wire and for the rest of the drive layback in the cab, with his hat tilted over his nose to keep the sunfrom his face. Our drive pulled up at a house which was not unlikethe one which we had just quitted. My companion ordered him towait, and had his hand upon the knocker, when the door openedand a grave young gentleman in black, with a very shiny hat,appeared on the step.
“Is Miss Cushing at home?” asked Holmes.
“Miss Sarah Cushing is extremely ill,” said he. “She has beensuffering since yesterday from brain symptoms of great severity.
As her medical adviser, I cannot possibly take the responsibility ofallowing anyone to see her. I should recommend you to call againin ten days.” He drew on his gloves, closed the door, and marchedoff down the street.
“Well, if we can’t we can’t,” said Holmes, cheerfully.
“Perhaps she could not or would not have told you much.”
“I did not wish her to tell me anything. I only wanted to look ather. However, I think that I have got all that I want. Drive us to somedecent hotel, cabby, where we may have some lunch, and afterwardswe shall drop down upon friend Lestrade at the police-station.”
We had a pleasant little meal together, during which Holmeswould talk about nothing but violins, narrating with greatexultation how he had purchased his own Stradivarius, which wasworth at least five hundred guineas, at a Jew broker’s in TottenhamCourt Road for fifty-five shillings. This led him to Paganini,and we sat for an hour over a bottle of claret while he told meanecdote after anecdote of that extraordinary man. The afternoonwas far advanced and the hot glare had softened into a mellowglow before we found ourselves at the police-station. Lestrade waswaiting for us at the door.
“A telegram for you, Mr. Holmes,” said he.
“Ha! It is the answer!” He tore it open, glanced his eyes over it,and crumpled it into his pocket. “That’s all right,” said he.
“Have you found out anything?”
