The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge

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Author: Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
hour it was
probable that his own life had been sacrificed. It had been arranged,
therefore, that in such a case his two subordinates were to make for
some prearranged spot where they could escape investigation and be in a
position afterwards to renew their attempt. That would fully explain
the facts, would it not?"
    The whole inexplicable tangle seemed to straighten out before me. I
wondered, as I always did, how it had not been obvious to me before.
    "But why should one servant return?"
    "We can imagine that in the confusion of flight something precious,
something which he could not bear to part with, had been left behind.
That would explain his persistence, would it not?"
    "Well, what is the next step?"
    "The next step is the note received by Garcia at the dinner. It
indicates a confederate at the other end. Now, where was the other
end? I have already shown you that it could only lie in some large
house, and that the number of large houses is limited. My first days in
this village were devoted to a series of walks in which in the
intervals of my botanical researches I made a reconnaissance of all the
large houses and an examination of the family history of the occupants.
One house, and only one, riveted my attention. It is the famous old
Jacobean grange of High Gable, one mile on the farther side of Oxshott,
and less than half a mile from the scene of the tragedy. The other
mansions belonged to prosaic and respectable people who live far aloof
from romance. But Mr. Henderson, of High Gable, was by all accounts a
curious man to whom curious adventures might befall. I concentrated my
attention, therefore, upon him and his household.
    "A singular set of people, Watson—the man himself the most singular of
them all. I managed to see him on a plausible pretext, but I seemed to
read in his dark, deepset, brooding eyes that he was perfectly aware of
my true business. He is a man of fifty, strong, active, with iron-gray
hair, great bunched black eyebrows, the step of a deer and the air of
an emperor—a fierce, masterful man, with a red-hot spirit behind his
parchment face. He is either a foreigner or has lived long in the
tropics, for he is yellow and sapless, but tough as whipcord. His
friend and secretary, Mr. Lucas, is undoubtedly a foreigner, chocolate
brown, wily, suave, and catlike, with a poisonous gentleness of speech.
You see, Watson, we have come already upon two sets of foreigners—one
at Wisteria Lodge and one at High Gable—so our gaps are beginning to
close.
    "These two men, close and confidential friends, are the centre of the
household; but there is one other person who for our immediate purpose
may be even more important. Henderson has two children—girls of
eleven and thirteen. Their governess is a Miss Burnet, an Englishwoman
of forty or thereabouts. There is also one confidential manservant.
This little group forms the real family, for their travel about
together, and Henderson is a great traveller, always on the move. It
is only within the last weeks that he has returned, after a year's
absence, to High Gable. I may add that he is enormously rich, and
whatever his whims may be he can very easily satisfy them. For the
rest, his house is full of butlers, footmen, maidservants, and the
usual overfed, underworked staff of a large English country house.
    "So much I learned partly from village gossip and partly from my own
observation. There are no better instruments than discharged servants
with a grievance, and I was lucky enough to find one. I call it luck,
but it would not have come my way had I not been looking out for it.
As Baynes remarks, we all have our systems. It was my system which
enabled me to find John Warner, late gardener of High Gable, sacked in
a moment of temper by his imperious employer. He in turn had friends
among the indoor servants who unite in their fear and dislike of their
master. So I had my key to the secrets of the establishment.
    "Curious people, Watson! I don't pretend to
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