Holmes had been sitting without a word for several hours now. He was hunched over his long, thin body, staring down at a chemical
study test tube in front of him, in which a particularly foul-smelling compound was cooking. The way his head hung down on his chest, from where I was looking, he looked
like a long, thin, strange bird, covered in dark gray feathers, but with black crown hairs on his head.
Suddenly he said, "Watson, so you're not going to invest in South Africa, are you?"
I was taken aback. Though I was used to all the peculiar skills of Holmes, it was still inexplicable to me that he should so suddenly break my heart
.
"How did you know?" I asked him.
He turned around on the round stool, the bubbling test tube in his hand. From his deep-set eyes, there was the faintest hint of trying to laugh
out loud.
"Now, Watson, you admit you are surprised," he said.
"I am surprised."
"I should ask you to write that down and sign your name."
"Why?"
"Because after five minutes you'll say it's too easy again."
"I must not say that."
"You must know, my dear Watson," he said, putting the test-tube back on the shelf, and beginning to speak down in the tone of a professor lecturing
lessons to his class, "that it is not difficult to make a string of inferences, and to make each one depend on the one before it and be simple and clear in itself, and that, in fact, it is not difficult. It is not difficult. Then, by removing all the intermediate reasoning, and simply announcing the starting point and
conclusion to your audience, you can get amazing, and possibly exaggerated, results. So, I look at the tiger's mouth on your left hand, and I feel that there is a grip
grip to say that you have no intention of investing your small capital in a gold mine, and it is really not difficult to deduce that."
"I don't see the connection."
"It doesn't seem to, but I can tell you the close relationship at once. The missing
links in this very simple chain are, first, that you came back from the club last night with white powder on the tiger's mouth of your left hand; secondly, that it is only when playing billiards that
in order to stabilize the cue that you put white powder on the tiger's mouth; thirdly, that you never play billiards without Thurston for company; and, fourthly, that you told me four weeks ago that Thurston had the privilege of buying a certain South African property, which expires in a month, and he would love
you to use it with him***; fifthly, your checkbook is locked in my drawer, and you have never asked me for the key; and sixthly, you don't
intend to invest your money in South Africa."
"That's too easy!" I screamed.
"Exactly!" He said, a little unhappily, "Every problem, once it has been explained to you, becomes simple. Here
is a question that is not yet understood. See how you can explain it, my friend." He threw a slip of paper on the table and started
doing his analysis again.
I was surprised to see some absurd symbols drawn on the note.
"Hey Holmes, it's a drawing of a child."
"Oh, that's what you think."
"Could it be anything else?"
"That is what Mr. Hilton Cupid is anxious to find out. He lives on the Horsefair Village Estate in Norfolk. This
little riddle was delivered by the mail train early this morning, and he himself is preparing to come here by the second train. The doorbell rang, Watson. I shall not be surprised if it is he who comes
"
A heavy footstep sounded on the stairs, and in a few moments there entered a tall, well-built gentleman with a clean-shaven
face. Bright eyes and rosy cheeks suggested that he lived in a place far from the fogs of Baker Street. He seemed to bring a little of that rich, fresh, cool East Coast air with him when he entered
. He shook our hands and was about to sit down
when his eyes fell on the note with the strange symbols drawn on it, which I had placed on the table after carefully reading it a few moments before.
"How do you explain it, Mr. Holmes?" He exclaimed, "They tell me that you are fond of the bizarre and the strange,
and I see that nothing more bizarre can be found. I sent this note first so that you would have time to study
it before I came."
"It is indeed a difficult piece of work to read," said Holmes, "and at first sight looks like a child's joke, with strange little figures dancing across
the paper. How could you value a picture so strange?"
"I would never, Mr. Holmes. But my wife values it. The picture frightens her to death. She doesn't
say anything, but I can see in her eyes that she is frightened. That's why I'm going to get this thing straightened out once and for all."
Holmes held the note up so that the sun's rays shone on it. It was a page torn from a notepad, and the dancing men on it were drawn in pencil and arranged like this:
(Figure 1: twd1.gif)
Holmes looked at it carefully for a moment, and then folded it up very carefully and put it in his wallet.
"This may turn out to be a most interesting and unusual case," he said, "and you have given me some details in your letter, Mr. Hilton Cupid.
But I would ask you to tell it again to my friend Dr. Watson."
"I am not much of a story-teller," said the guest. His large, strong hands, nervously clenched
a moment and released." If there is anything that is not clearly told, you can just ask me. I'm going to start just before
and just after my wedding last year, but I want to start by saying that although I'm not a rich man, our family has lived in the village of Racecourse for about five hundred years
and there's no one more famous in Norfolk than our family. Last year I went to London for the sixtieth anniversary of Queen Victoria's reign
and stayed in an apartment in Russell Square, for it was in this apartment that the Rev. Parker of our parish lived. In this apartment
also lived a young American lady, whose surname was Patrick, and whose full name was Elsie Patrick. So we became
friends. I hadn't waited until I had lived in London for a full month, and I already loved her to bits. We quietly tied the knot at the registry office
and returned to Norfolk as husband and wife. You would think it madness, Mr. Holmes, for a son of a famous family to take a wife of unknown parentage in this way. But if you have seen her and know her, it will help you to
understand this.
"At the time she was very straightforward on that point. Elsie was indeed straightforward. I can't say she didn't give me the opportunity to change my mind
but it never occurred to me to change my mind. She said to me, 'I've been around some hateful people in my life, and now I just
want to forget about them all. I don't want to talk about the past again because it makes me miserable. If you marry me, Hilton, you will
marry a woman who has done nothing to make herself ashamed. But you must be content with my assurances, and allow
me to keep silent about all my experiences before I married you. If these conditions are too harsh, then go back to Norfolk and
let me live my solitary life as usual.' It was the day before our marriage that she said these words to me. I told her I was willing
to marry her on her terms, and I have kept my word.
"We have been married for a year now and have been living happily ever after. But about a month ago, just at the end of June
I saw for the first time an omen of trouble. That day my wife received a letter from America. I saw a U.S.
stamp affixed to it. Her face turned white, she read the letter and threw it into the fire and burned it. Later she did not mention it, and neither did I, for I must
keep my word. Since that time she has not had a moment's peace, and always has a look of fear on her face, as if she were waiting for
something. But I am not at liberty to say anything unless she speaks. Please note, Mr. Holmes, that she is an honest person.
Whatever misfortunes she may have had in her life in the past, they would not have been her own fault. I am but a common squire of Norfolk
but there is no one else in England whose family reputation is higher than mine. She understood this well, and well before she married
me. She would never wish to bring any stain on our family's reputation, of that I am fully convinced.
"Okay, now I'll get to the suspicious part of this matter. About a week ago, last Tuesday, I noticed some dancing funny little people drawn on a
window-sill, exactly like the ones on that paper, in chalk. I thought the pony herder had drawn them, but he swore he didn't know anything about them. Anyway, those funny little people were drawn on in the night. I brushed them
off and mentioned it to my wife later. To my amazement, she took it very seriously and begged me to show her any more paintings like that if
they came up again. For a week straight nothing appeared. By yesterday morning I found this note on the garden
sundial. I showed it to Elsie and she immediately fainted. Afterward she was in a trance as if she were dreaming,
and her eyes were always full of fear. It was at that time, Mr. Holmes, that I wrote a letter and sent it to you
along with the note. I could not give the note to the police because they would have laughed at me, but you would have told me what to do.
I am not rich, but in case any mischief should befall my wife, I am willing to give my family's money to protect her."
He was a beautiful man who had been brought up in his native England - pure, upright, urbane, with honest blue eyes and a
clean face. The love and trust he had for his wife was evident in his countenance. Holmes, after listening intently to his account of the passage, sat for a moment in deep thought.
"Don't you think, Mr. Cupid," he said at last, "that it would have been better to have begged your wife directly to tell
you her secret?"
Hilton Cupid shook his head.
"A promise is always a promise, Mr. Holmes. Had Elsie been willing to tell me, she would have done so. If she does not
wish to, I will not force her to tell. But it is always possible for me to think of something myself. I must think of something."
"Then I would be glad to help you. First, have you heard of any strangers coming to your house?"
"No."
"I presume your area is a very peaceful place, and the presence of any unfamiliar face would be noticeable, yes?"
"In very neighboring places it is. But, not too far from our place, there are several places where animals are drunk, and the farmers there
often leave outsiders to stay."
"These difficult symbols obviously have a meaning. If they were drawn at random, we would most likely not be able to explain them. On the
other hand, if they were systematic, I'm sure we'd figure it out thoroughly. But the only one I have is too brief for me to
begin with. And those you have given are too vague to serve as a basis for investigation. I suggest that you go back to Norfolk and keep a close eye
on it, copying any new dancers that may appear as they are. It is a great pity that we do not have a copy of any of the earlier dancing men drawn in chalk on the window
sill. You will also have to ask carefully what strangers have come to the neighborhood. Come back here when you
gather new evidence. That's all the advice I can give you now. If there are any urgent new developments
I can always get to your house in Norfolk."
This interview caused Holmes to become very silent. Several times over the course of several days I saw him take the piece of paper
slip out of his notebook and study long and carefully the odd symbols written on it. But he said nothing about it. It wasn't until almost two
weeks later, when I was about to go out one afternoon, that he stopped me.
"Watson, you'd better not go."
"What's the matter?"
"Because I got a telegram from Hilton Cupid this morning. Do you remember him and the dancers? He should
be in Liverpool Street at one-twenty, and may be here any minute. From his telegram I presume that very important new
circumstances have arisen."
We did not have to wait long before the Norfolk gentleman arrived in a carriage directly from the station. He was as anxious and despondent,
with a weary eye and a wrinkled forehead.
"This thing is too much for me, Mr. Holmes," he said, and sat down in his chair
like an exhausted man. "It's bad enough when you feel invisibly surrounded and it's not clear who is counting on you. Add to that the fact that you
see that this thing is tormenting your wife bit by bit, and that's more than flesh and blood can bear. She's been tortured
to the point where she's thinning out, and I'm seeing her thinning out."
"Did she say anything?"
"No, Mr. Holmes. She has not said. But there have been several times when the poor thing has tried to speak, and could not summon up the courage
to make that start. I have tried to help her, and probably I have done it so foolishly that I have frightened her from speaking. She has spoken of my
ancient family, our calling card throughout the county, and proud reputation for innocence, and at this point I always think she will come to the point
but somehow the conversation digresses before it gets there."
"But have you found something out for yourself?"
"Quite a lot, Mr. Holmes. I have brought you a couple of new drawings, and more importantly I saw the fellow
."
"What? Is that the guy who drew those symbols?"
"That's him, I saw him draw them. It is better to tell you everything in order. The first thing I saw the morning after I came home
after my last visit to you was a new line of dancing men, drawn in chalk on the door of the tool-house.
This tool shed was next to the lawn and directly in front of the front window. I copied one as it is, right here." He opened a folded piece of
paper and laid it on the table. Here are the symbols he copied down:
(Figure 2: twd2.gif)
"That's marvelous!" Holmes said." It's marvelous! Please go on."
"When I had finished copying, I rubbed these marks on the door, but after two mornings only new ones appeared. I also
have a copy here."
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