The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge Read Online Free PDF

understand it all yet, but
very curious people anyway. It's a double-winged house, and the
servants live on one side, the family on the other. There's no link
between the two save for Henderson's own servant, who serves the
family's meals. Everything is carried to a certain door, which forms
the one connection. Governess and children hardly go out at all,
except into the garden. Henderson never by any chance walks alone.
His dark secretary is like his shadow. The gossip among the servants
is that their master is terribly afraid of something. 'Sold his soul
to the devil in exchange for money,' says Warner, 'and expects his
creditor to come up and claim his own.' Where they came from, or who
they are, nobody has an idea. They are very violent. Twice Henderson
has lashed at folk with his dog-whip, and only his long purse and heavy
compensation have kept him out of the courts.
    "Well, now, Watson, let us judge the situation by this new information.
We may take it that the letter came out of this strange household and
was an invitation to Garcia to carry out some attempt which had already
been planned. Who wrote the note? It was someone within the citadel,
and it was a woman. Who then but Miss Burnet, the governess? All our
reasoning seems to point that way. At any rate, we may take it as a
hypothesis and see what consequences it would entail. I may add that
Miss Burnet's age and character make it certain that my first idea that
there might be a love interest in our story is out of the question.
    "If she wrote the note she was presumably the friend and confederate of
Garcia. What, then, might she be expected to do if she heard of his
death? If he met it in some nefarious enterprise her lips might be
sealed. Still, in her heart, she must retain bitterness and hatred
against those who had killed him and would presumably help so far as
she could to have revenge upon them. Could we see her, then and try to
use her? That was my first thought. But now we come to a sinister
fact. Miss Burnet has not been seen by any human eye since the night
of the murder. From that evening she has utterly vanished. Is she
alive? Has she perhaps met her end on the same night as the friend
whom she had summoned? Or is she merely a prisoner? There is the point
which we still have to decide.
    "You will appreciate the difficulty of the situation, Watson. There is
nothing upon which we can apply for a warrant. Our whole scheme might
seem fantastic if laid before a magistrate. The woman's disappearance
counts for nothing, since in that extraordinary household any member of
it might be invisible for a week. And yet she may at the present
moment be in danger of her life. All I can do is to watch the house
and leave my agent, Warner, on guard at the gates. We can't let such a
situation continue. If the law can do nothing we must take the risk
ourselves."
    "What do you suggest?"
    "I know which is her room. It is accessible from the top of an
outhouse. My suggestion is that you and I go to-night and see if we
can strike at the very heart of the mystery."
    It was not, I must confess, a very alluring prospect. The old house
with its atmosphere of murder, the singular and formidable inhabitants,
the unknown dangers of the approach, and the fact that we were putting
ourselves legally in a false position all combined to damp my ardour.
But there was something in the ice-cold reasoning of Holmes which made
it impossible to shrink from any adventure which he might recommend.
One knew that thus, and only thus, could a solution be found. I
clasped his hand in silence, and the die was cast.
    But it was not destined that our investigation should have so
adventurous an ending. It was about five o'clock, and the shadows of
the March evening were beginning to fall, when an excited rustic rushed
into our room.
    "They've gone, Mr. Holmes. They went by the last train. The lady
broke away, and I've got her in a cab downstairs."
    "Excellent, Warner!" cried Holmes, springing to his