“I am very glad to share them with you,” I returned, filling my own pipe. “Perhaps when we get a moment free from interruption you could give me your analysis of the case. I am certainly looking forward to hearing it!”

“By all means,” returned my friend, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs over the chair-arm. “I am certain you will find it compelling, my dear fellow! But I fear that the pleasure for both of us must be postponed a little longer!”

At that moment had come another knock at our door. I had been expecting it, for I had heard, as had my companion, the sound of more footsteps on the stair. The landlord’s face appeared round the edge of the door once more.

“Two more gentlemen to see you,” said he: “Colonel Reid and Mr William Northcote.”

Colonel Reid was a tall, spare man, with a lined, weather-beaten face and snowy white hair. I judged from his lean, athletic build that his usual posture was erect and upright, but now he was bent and leaned heavily on his walking stick and was clearly not in the best of health. Northcote was a thin, nervous-looking young man of about six-and-twenty. His spectacles and anxious manner gave him a scholarly, bookish appearance. The two of them sat down on the sofa.

“Good evening, Colonel, Mr Northcote,” said Holmes in a pleasant voice.

“You are Sherlock Holmes?” the elderly man enquired in a thin, reedy voice.

“I am,” returned Holmes, “and this is my colleague, Dr Watson.”

Colonel Reid nodded to me in a weary way, as if even that small action cost him great effort.

“Your presence here has come to my attention,” said he, then broke off as there came a slight sound from the corridor outside the door, and then on the stair. “What was that?” he asked.

“Mice,” said Holmes quickly. “Or perhaps a rat. This inn is full of vermin.”

The colonel gave him an odd look, as if he thought him a little mad, then shook his head slightly.

“I have come here tonight to ask you to desist from whatever it is you are doing, and to leave the district forthwith.”

Holmes did not reply, and after a moment the colonel continued:

“Your presence here can do no good. This parish has suffered enough, and anything you do here can only serve to reopen old wounds. Three years ago, a tragedy befell the parish. I do not pretend that there was anything unique about it. These things happen, have always happened and probably will always happen. Nevertheless, it was distressing. When the facts came out, it seemed that my son held some responsibility for what occurred. I was, as you will imagine, devastated by this information.”

“You call it information,” interrupted Holmes, “but it was, in reality, merely rumour. Rumours may be right and they may be wrong. In this case, they were wrong.”

“No!” cried the old man. “Would that it were so! Do you not think, Mr Holmes, that I wished it otherwise, wished it otherwise every morning I awoke? But there could be no doubt. The two of them, my son and that girl, had been seen together on numerous occasions. And they had evidently been together on other occasions when they had not been seen, for it was said that she oft-times slipped away from her home without telling anyone where she was going, and these unexplained absences of hers often coincided, as it turned out, with times when my son, too, was absent from home without adequate explanation.”

“That seems slim evidence,” began Holmes, but the old man cut him short.

“Hear me out,” said he. “The note the girl left referred to someone that had gone away and left her. No one else in the parish had gone away at that time but my son. The reference could be to no one but he. Furthermore, in a pocket of her dress when she was found was a gilt cufflink, marked with the crest of the West Sussex Regiment.”

Holmes nodded his head slightly, but did not respond, and after a moment, Colonel Reid continued: “Now, rather than admit his responsibility in the matter, he acts as if he has done nothing wrong, and recruits a hired-by-the-day detective in London, in an attempt to twist the facts and thus prove his innocence! I mean you no offence, Mr Holmes – every man must make his living as he sees fit, and if a man chooses to earn his keep by poking his nose into other people’s business, then it is for him to answer for it – but I tell you again, you can do no good in this case; you can only make matters worse. Leave now, I beg of you.”

“I will leave tomorrow,” said Holmes after a moment, in a measured tone, “but on one condition only.”

“Which is?”

“That you grant me a brief audience at three o’clock tomorrow afternoon, before I depart.”

Colonel Reid looked surprised. “What possible good can that do?”

“I wish to speak to you about this matter in general, and about your son in particular.”

“It is utterly pointless, Mr Holmes. There is no more to be said on the matter. Whatever you have in mind will be a waste both of your time and mine.”

“Nevertheless, that is my condition.”

The old man sighed. “And you will then leave, return to London, and drop this matter altogether?”

“I will.”

“Very well, then. I shall expect you at three o’clock. Come along, Northcote!”

The secretary helped the old man to his feet, I opened the door for them, and the two made their way slowly down the stairs. As I was closing the door, I observed that Northcote’s stick was lying on the floor, half under the sofa upon which our visitors had been seated.

“Northcote has forgotten his stick,” said I, bending to pick it up, but Holmes put his hand on my arm.

“Leave it,” said he.

I looked round in surprise. “If I hurry I may catch them before they leave,” said I.

“He will return for it,” said Holmes. “He left it here deliberately. Indeed, I should not be surprised if— ”

He broke off as there came a knock at the door. I opened it and there stood Northcote.

“I have mislaid my stick,” said he. “Thank you, Dr Watson,” he continued as I handed it to him. “As a matter of fact, I left it here on purpose, as I wished to see you alone, gentlemen.” He put his hand inside his coat and withdrew a long white envelope. “Things have been very difficult lately, and my own position has become almost unbearable,” he continued. “I have written a letter to Captain Reid, in which – well, read it for yourselves and see. I should be obliged if you would pass it on to Reid, but as you are acting for him, it would probably be best if you read it yourselves, too, so please feel free to open it. Now I must go, or Colonel Reid will wonder where I have got to.”

The secretary gave a little bow, blinked his eyes at us from behind his spectacles, and was gone. Holmes looked after him for a moment with a thoughtful expression on his face, then slit open the envelope and extracted a foolscap sheet, which he held out for me to see. Upon it, I read the following:

Dear Reid,

You will, I hope, forgive my writing to you in this way, and not think me impertinent for making reference to matters that are none of my business. But the difficulties which have arisen at Oakbrook recently have made me painfully aware that my presence there represents an unfortunate, and certainly unlooked-for, intrusion into the privacy of your family.

You should know, as I am sure you already confidently believe, that your father, Colonel Reid, does not discuss family matters with me, nor in my presence, and I should certainly never encourage him to do so. Nevertheless, my situation is an uncomfortable, and at times difficult one. In the last few days I have come to feel that my presence may be a hindrance to the restitution of harmony within the family, as it may act as a bar to free and frank conversation between family members.

I therefore propose to give notice to Colonel Reid at the end of this week that I should wish to be relieved of my duties and end my employment with him, for the time being at least, as soon as he feels able to dispense with my services.