The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax Read online

While there she had madethe acquaintance of a Dr. Shlessinger and his wife, a missionary fromSouth America. Like most lonely ladies, Lady Frances found her comfortand occupation in religion. Dr. Shlessinger's remarkable personality,his whole hearted devotion, and the fact that he was recovering from adisease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected herdeeply. She had helped Mrs. Shlessinger in the nursing of theconvalescent saint. He spent his day, as the manager described it tome, upon a lounge-chair on the veranda, with an attendant lady uponeither side of him. He was preparing a map of the Holy Land, withspecial reference to the kingdom of the Midianites, upon which he waswriting a monograph. Finally, having improved much in health, he andhis wife had returned to London, and Lady Frances had started thitherin their company. This was just three weeks before, and the managerhad heard nothing since. As to the maid, Marie, she had gone off somedays beforehand in floods of tears, after informing the other maidsthat she was leaving service forever. Dr. Shlessinger had paid thebill of the whole party before his departure.

  "By the way," said the landlord in conclusion, "you are not the onlyfriend of Lady Frances Carfax who is inquiring after her just now.Only a week or so ago we had a man here upon the same errand."

  "Did he give a name?" I asked.

  "None; but he was an Englishman, though of an unusual type."

  "A savage?" said I, linking my facts after the fashion of myillustrious friend.

  "Exactly. That describes him very well. He is a bulky, bearded,sunburned fellow, who looks as if he would be more at home in afarmers' inn than in a fashionable hotel. A hard, fierce man, I shouldthink, and one whom I should be sorry to offend."

  Already the mystery began to define itself, as figures grow clearerwith the lifting of a fog. Here was this good and pious lady pursuedfrom place to place by a sinister and unrelenting figure. She fearedhim, or she would not have fled from Lausanne. He had still followed.Sooner or later he would overtake her. Had he already overtaken her?Was THAT the secret of her continued silence? Could the good peoplewho were her companions not screen her from his violence or hisblackmail? What horrible purpose, what deep design, lay behind thislong pursuit? There was the problem which I had to solve.

  To Holmes I wrote showing how rapidly and surely I had got down to theroots of the matter. In reply I had a telegram asking for adescription of Dr. Shlessinger's left ear. Holmes's ideas of humourare strange and occasionally offensive, so I took no notice of hisill-timed jest--indeed, I had already reached Montpellier in my pursuitof the maid, Marie, before his message came.

  I had no difficulty in finding the ex-servant and in learning all thatshe could tell me. She was a devoted creature, who had only left hermistress because she was sure that she was in good hands, and becauseher own approaching marriage made a separation inevitable in any case.Her mistress had, as she confessed with distress, shown someirritability of temper towards her during their stay in Baden, and hadeven questioned her once as if she had suspicions of her honesty, andthis had made the parting easier than it would otherwise have been.Lady Frances had given her fifty pounds as a wedding-present. Like me,Marie viewed with deep distrust the stranger who had driven hermistress from Lausanne. With her own eyes she had seen him seize thelady's wrist with great violence on the public promenade by the lake.He was a fierce and terrible man. She believed that it was out ofdread of him that Lady Frances had accepted the escort of theShlessingers to London. She had never spoken to Marie about it, butmany little signs had convinced the maid that her mistress lived in astate of continual nervous apprehension. So far she had got in hernarrative, when suddenly she sprang from her chair and her face wasconvulsed with surprise and fear. "See!" she cried. "The miscreantfollows still! There is the very man of whom I speak."

  Through the open sitting-room window I saw a huge, swarthy man with abristling black beard walking slowly down the centre of the street andstaring eagerly at the numbers of the houses. It was clear that, likemyself, he was on the track of the maid. Acting upon the impulse of themoment, I rushed out and accosted him.

  "You are an Englishman," I said.

  "What if I am?" he asked with a most villainous scowl.

  "May I ask what your name is?"

  "No, you may not," said he with decision.

  The situation was awkward, but the most direct way is often the best.

  "Where is the Lady Frances Carfax?" I asked.

  He stared at me with amazement.

  "What have you done with her? Why have you pursued her? I insist uponan answer!" said I.

  The fellow gave a below of anger and sprang upon me like a tiger. Ihave held my own in many a struggle, but the man had a grip of iron andthe fury of a fiend. His hand was on my throat and my senses werenearly gone before an unshaven French ouvrier in a blue blouse dartedout from a cabaret opposite, with a cudgel in his hand, and struck myassailant a sharp crack over the forearm, which made him leave go hishold. He stood for an instant fuming with rage and uncertain whetherhe should not renew his attack. Then, with a snarl of anger, he left meand entered the cottage from which I had just come. I turned to thankmy preserver, who stood beside me in the roadway.

  "Well, Watson," said he, "a very pretty hash you have made of it! Irather think you had better come back with me to London by the nightexpress."

  An hour afterwards, Sherlock Holmes, in his usual garb and style, wasseated in my private room at the hotel. His explanation of his suddenand opportune appearance was simplicity itself, for, finding that hecould get away from London, he determined to head me off at the nextobvious point of my travels. In the disguise of a workingman he hadsat in the cabaret waiting for my appearance.

  "And a singularly consistent investigation you have made, my dearWatson," said he. "I cannot at the moment recall any possible blunderwhich you have omitted. The total effect of your proceeding has beento give the alarm everywhere and yet to discover nothing."

  "Perhaps you would have done no better," I answered bitterly.

  "There is no 'perhaps' about it. I HAVE done better. Here is the Hon.Philip Green, who is a fellow-lodger with you in this hotel, and we mayfind him the starting-point for a more successful investigation."

  A card had come up on a salver, and it was followed by the same beardedruffian who had attacked me in the street. He started when he saw me.

  "What is this, Mr. Holmes?" he asked. "I had your note and I havecome. But what has this man to do with the matter?"

  "This is my old friend and associate, Dr. Watson, who is helping us inthis affair."

  The stranger held out a huge, sunburned hand, with a few words ofapology.

  "I hope I didn't harm you. When you accused me of hurting her I lostmy grip of myself. Indeed, I'm not responsible in these days. Mynerves are like live wires. But this situation is beyond me. What Iwant to know, in the first place, Mr. Holmes, is, how in the world youcame to hear of my existence at all."

  "I am in touch with Miss Dobney, Lady Frances's governess."

  "Old Susan Dobney with the mob cap! I remember her well."

  "And she remembers you. It was in the days before--before you found itbetter to go to South Africa."

  "Ah, I see you know my whole story. I need hide nothing from you. Iswear to you, Mr. Holmes, that there never was in this world a man wholoved a woman with a more wholehearted love than I had for Frances. Iwas a wild youngster, I know--not worse than others of my class. Buther mind was pure as snow. She could not bear a shadow of coarseness.So, when she came to hear of things that I had done, she would have nomore to say to me. And yet she loved me--that is the wonder ofit!--loved me well enough to remain single all her sainted days justfor my sake alone. When the years had passed and I had made my moneyat Barberton I thought perhaps I could seek her out and soften her. Ihad heard that she was still unmarried, I found her at Lausanne andtried all I knew. She weakened, I think, but her will was strong, andwhen next I called she had left the town. I traced her to Ba
den, andthen after a time heard that her maid was here. I'm a rough fellow,fresh from a rough life, and when Dr. Watson spoke to me as he did Ilost hold of myself for a moment. But for God's sake tell me what hasbecome of the Lady Frances."

  "That is for us to find out," said Sherlock Holmes with peculiargravity. "What is your London address, Mr. Green?"

  "The Langham Hotel will find me."

  "Then may I recommend that you return there and be on hand in case Ishould want you? I have no desire to encourage false hopes, but youmay rest assured that all that can be done will be done for the safetyof Lady Frances. I can say no more for the instant. I will leave youthis card so that you may be able to keep in touch with us. Now,Watson, if you will pack your bag I will