“Of course, such thoughts reached no sensible conclusion, but followed each other round in an endless spiral. Presently, I heard someone approaching, and then the sound of voices from the garden, over the wall behind the summer house, so I thought I had best be off. When I had gone some distance down the hill, I glanced back and saw that my progress was being observed by two men standing in the gateway of the rosary, but I was too far off by then to make out who they were.

“That evening at dinner, my father questioned Captain Ranworth about his Indian experiences, but it was clear that it cost him some effort to do so, and he soon made an excuse and left the table, requesting that Northcote accompany him to his study. When they had left us I described to Ranworth my experiences at Topley Grange. He was as amazed as I was by the strange reception I had been afforded there.

“‘That is really too bad,’ said he. ‘Whatever can they mean by such behaviour? I am sure you are correct, Reid, by the way, and that both Miss Blythe-Headley and her father were at home this afternoon, for I believe I saw them in the gardens there while I was on my walk.’

“I made up my mind then. I would leave with Ranworth in the morning, travel up to London and stay a few nights at my club. Incredible though it seemed to be leaving so quickly the home to which I had yearned for so long to return, I could think of no other recourse. It was evident that for reasons I could not begin to imagine I was not welcome there, nor, it appeared, anywhere else in the district.

“The following morning at breakfast, a long buff envelope lay beside my plate. I picked it up full of curiosity, for I observed from the postmark that it had been posted locally the day before, and I did not recognize the hand that had addressed it. Before I could open it, however, there came a terrible cry from my father as he opened a letter of his own. He stood up from the table, his face grey and drawn, and I sprang up in alarm and approached him, for he appeared in the grip of a seizure; but with a feeble gesture of his arm he waved me away.

“‘Leave me!’ cried he in a frail, hoarse voice. ‘You have dishonoured your home; you have disgraced the name and reputation of your family; you have broken your mother’s heart and driven her to an early grave; you have estranged me from all my friends in the district, and still you are not satisfied!’ I opened my mouth to speak, but he threw down the letter he had received onto the table, turned his back on me and walked from the room in silence.

“I glanced across at Ranworth, whose face was horror-struck at the scene he had witnessed. ‘I must apologize profoundly for intruding upon your family troubles,’ said he in a strained voice.

“‘Not at all, Ranworth,’ said I in as careless a manner as I could muster. ‘It is I who should beg your forgiveness for inflicting such a business upon you.’ I picked up from the table the letter my father had cast down. It was from his old friend Admiral Blythe-Headley, and was in the form of an account. ‘To repair of wooden seat in garden pavilion, deliberately damaged by your son,’ I read, ‘including timber etc: seven shillings and sixpence.’

“I passed the letter to Ranworth and his mouth fell open in surprise.

“‘What on earth does it mean?’ cried he.

“‘I have no idea,’ said I. ‘I have damaged nothing.’

“‘I am sure you would not do such a thing deliberately, Reid,’ said he, after a moment’s thought, ‘but is it possible that you could have accidentally damaged the seat and not realized what you had done?’

“‘That is impossible,’ I replied, ‘unless I have become unaware of my own actions, which I take it you are not suggesting.’ As I spoke, I opened the envelope that had been addressed to me. Inside was a single, folded sheet of coarse paper. This was blank, save for two large, printed letters: ‘S. D.’ Folded within the sheet, however, was— ”

Captain Reid broke off abruptly, reached into his inside pocket and drew out an envelope. “Here,” said he. “You may as well see it for yourselves.”

He passed the envelope to Sherlock Holmes, who examined it for a moment.

“The address is in a somewhat uncultured hand,” said he, then let out a cry of surprise as he took out the sheet from within and unfolded it, for upon it lay a pure white feather, which slipped from the paper and floated to the floor.

“A white feather,” said Reid in a weak, broken voice, as I picked it up: “the worst insult a man can receive: the symbol of cowardice.”

“It has certainly been used for that purpose on occasion,” remarked Holmes in a matter-of-fact voice as he examined the sheet of paper that had enclosed the feather. “It does not always bear such a meaning, however, but is used sometimes to indicate other personal failings. Do the initials S. D. mean anything to you, Captain Reid?”

“Nothing whatever.”

“They are not the initials of any man known to you in your regiment?”

“No.”

“Nor anyone at Topley Cross?”

“Not that I can recall.”

Holmes nodded his head, then sat for some time in silence, his brow drawn into a frown of concentration.

“The incident of the feather completes your account, I take it,” said he at length. “Very good,” he continued, as his visitor nodded his head. “Let us now review one or two points. First of all, are you absolutely certain, Captain Reid, that nothing occurred during your time in India that might, however unjustly, reflect badly upon you? I need hardly say that you must speak with the utmost candour and completeness if we are to help you. You need not fear that anything you say will pass beyond this room.”

“I quite understand. But I can assure you that it occasions no difficulty for me to speak frankly of my period of military service. The events are as I detailed to your friend earlier. I would add, only as you have asked me to be complete, that I was mentioned by name in dispatches several times, was promoted, recommended for decoration more than any other man in the regiment, and have heard in confidence from Colonel Finch that I am to be breveted Major before our next overseas posting.”

“Splendid!” said Holmes. “I am very glad to hear it! Now, if you will cast your mind back once more to the time immediately preceding your departure for India. Is there any incident you can recall that occurred then, however trivial, which struck you as odd, or unusual, or unexplained?”

Our visitor did not reply at once, but remained for some time with his eyes closed and his brow furrowed in thought. At length he opened his eyes and shook his head.

“I can recall nothing of the sort,” said he.

“Has there ever before been any animosity shown to you or

to your family, by anyone in the district?”

“I do not believe so. Topley Cross is generally a peaceful, harmonious little parish. I have never found there to be any significant ill-feeling there, directed either at us or at anyone else. We did have a windowpane broken one evening at Oakbrook Hall, just the week before I sailed, but I don’t believe that any ill-feeling lay behind it.”

“How did it occur?”

Reid shook his head. “I cannot be certain. Someone threw a stone through the window of the upstairs study. Who it was, we never discovered. One of the gardeners had reported seeing some of the village boys loitering in the orchard, earlier in the evening. He had told them to help themselves to a windfall apiece and then clear off. No doubt they returned later, when the gardener had gone, and were throwing stones, as boys do. I doubt very much that the breakage was deliberate, though. They are not bad lads, on the whole. Anyway, my father did not pursue the matter.”

“Was the window that was broken situated on the same side of the house as the orchard?” asked Holmes.

“No. The orchard lies to the north of the house; my father’s upstairs study is on the south side.”