Holmes. I think that I am as strong-nerved as my neighbours, but I was shaken by what I saw. The passage was dark save that one window halfway along it threw a patch of light. I could see that something was coming along the passage, something dark and crouching. Then suddenly it emerged into the light, and I saw that it was he. He was crawling, Mr. Holmes � crawling! He was not quite on his hands and knees. I should rather say on his hands and feet, with his face sunk between his hands. Yet he seemed to move with ease. I was so paralyzed by the sight that it was not until he had reached my door that I was able to step forward and ask if I could assist him. His answer was extraordinary. He sprang up, spat out some atrocious word at me, and hurried on past me, and down the staircase. I waited about for an hour, but he did not come back. It must have been daylight before he regained his room.�
�Well, Watson, what make you of that?� asked Holmes with the air of the pathologist who presents a rare specimen.
�Lumbago, possibly. I have known a severe attack make a man walk in just such a way, and nothing would be more trying to the temper.�
�Good, Watson! You always keep us flat-footed on the ground. But we can hardly accept lumbago, since he was able to stand erect in a moment.�
�He was never better in health,� said Bennett. �In fact, he is stronger than I have known him for years. But there are the facts, Mr. Holmes. It is not a case in which we can consult the police, and yet we are utterly at our wit�s end as to what to do, and we feel in some strange way that we are drifting towards disaster. Edith � Miss Presbury � feels as I do, that we cannot wait passively any longer.�
�It is certainly a very curious and suggestive case. What do you think, Watson?�
�Speaking as a medical man,� said I, �it appears to be a case for an alienist. The old gentleman�s cerebral processes were disturbed by the love affair. He made a journey abroad in the hope of breaking himself of the passion. His letters and the box may be connected with some other private transaction � a loan, perhaps, or share certificates, which are in the box.�
�And the wolfhound no doubt disapproved of the financial bargain. No, no, Watson, there is more in it than this. Now, I can only suggest ��
What Sherlock Holmes was about to suggest will never be known, for at this moment the door opened and a young lady was shown into the room. As she appeared Mr. Bennett sprang up with a cry and ran forward with his hands out to meet those which she had herself outstretched.
�Edith, dear! Nothing the matter, I hope?�
�I felt I must follow you. Oh, Jack, I have been so dreadfully frightened! It is awful to be there alone.�
�Mr. Holmes, this is the young lady I spoke of. This is my fiancee.�
�We were gradually coming to that conclusion, were we not, Watson?� Holmes answered with a smile. �I take it, Miss Presbury, that there is some fresh development in the case, and that you thought we should know?�
Our new visitor, a bright, handsome girl of a conventional English type, smiled back at Holmes as she seated herself beside Mr. Bennett.
�When I found Mr. Bennett had left his hotel I thought I should probably find him here. Of course, he had told me that he would consult you. But, oh, Mr. Holmes, can you do nothing for my poor father?�
�I have hopes, Miss Presbury, but the case is still obscure. Perhaps what you have to say may throw some fresh light upon it.�
�It was last night, Mr. Holmes. He had been very strange all day. I am sure that there are times when he has no recollection of what he does. He lives as in a strange dream. Yesterday was such a day. It was not my father with whom I lived. His outward shell was there, but it was not really he.�
�Tell me what happened.�
�I was awakened in the night by the dog barking most furiously. Poor Roy, he is chained now near the stable. I may say that I always sleep with my door locked; for, as Jack � as Mr. Bennett � will tell you, we all have a feeling of impending danger. My room is on the second floor.