'horrible': that's not a recognized official term. It gave the name
John Douglas. It mentioned that his injuries had been in the head,
from the discharge of a shotgun. It also mentioned the hour of
the alarm, which was close on to midnight last night. It added
that the case was undoubtedly one of murder, but that no arrest
had been made, and that the case was one which presented some
very perplexing and extraordinary features. That's absolutely all
we have at present, Mr. Holmes."

"Then, with your permission, we will leave it at that, Mr.
Mac. The temptation to form premature theories upon insufficient
data is the bane of our profession. I can see only two things
for certain at present -- a great brain in London, and a dead man
in Sussex. It's the chain between that we are going to trace."



Chapter 3
The Tragedy of Birlstone

Now for a moment I will ask leave to remove my own insignificant
personality and to describe events which occurred before we
arrived upon the scene by the light of knowledge which came to
us afterwards. Only in this way can I make the reader appreciate
the people concerned and the strange setting in which their fate
was cast.

The village of Birlstone is a small and very ancient cluster of
half-timbered cottages on the northern border of the county of
Sussex. For centuries it had remained unchanged; but within the
last few years its picturesque appearance and situation have
attracted a number of well-to-do residents, whose villas peep out
from the woods around. These woods are locally supposed to be
the extreme fringe of the great Weald forest, which thins away
until it reaches the northern chalk downs. A number of small
shops have come into being to meet the wants of the increased
population; so there seems some prospect that Birlstone may
soon grow from an ancient village into a modern town. It is the
centre for a considerable area of country, since Tunbridge Wells,
the nearest place of importance, is ten or twelve miles to the
eastward, over the borders of Kent.

About half a mile from the town, standing in an old park
famous for its huge beech trees, is the ancient Manor House of
Birlstone. Part of this venerable building dates back to the time
of the first crusade, when Hugo de Capus built a fortalice in the
centre of the estate, which had been granted to him by the Red
King. This was destroyed by fire in 1543, and some of its
smoke-blackened corner stones were used when, in Jacobean
times, a brick country house rose upon the ruins of the feudal
castle.

The Manor House, with its many gables and its small diamond-
paned windows, was still much as the builder had left it in the
early seventeenth century. Of the double moats which had guarded
its more warlike predecessor, the outer had been allowed to dry
up, and served the humble function of a kitchen garden. The
inner one was still there, and lay forty feet in breadth, though
now only a few feet in depth, round the whole house. A small
stream fed it and continued beyond it, so that the sheet of water,
though turbid, was never ditch-like or unhealthy. The ground
floor windows were within a foot of the surface of the water.

The only approach to the house was over a drawbridge, the
chains and windlass of which had long been rusted and broken.
The latest tenants of the Manor House had, however, with
characteristic energy, set this right, and the drawbridge was not
only capable of being raised, but actually was raised every
evening and lowered every morning. By thus renewing the custom
of the old feudal days the Manor House was converted into
an island during the night -- a fact which had a very direct
bearing upon the mystery which was soon to engage the attention
of all England.

The house had been untenanted for some years and was
threatening to moulder into a picturesque decay when the
Douglases took possession of it. This family consisted of only
two individuals -- John Douglas and his wife. Douglas was a
remarkable man, both in character and in person. In age he may
have been about fifty, with a strong-jawed, rugged face, a
grizzling moustache, peculiarly keen gray eyes, and a wiry,
vigorous figure which had lost nothing of the strength and
activity of youth. He was cheery and genial to all, but somewhat
offhand in his manners, giving the impression that he had seen
life in social strata on some far lower horizon than the county
society of Sussex.

Yet, though looked at with some curiosity and reserve by his
more cultivated neighbours, he soon acquired a great popularity
among the villagers, subscribing handsomely to all local objects,
and attending their smoking concerts and other functions, where,
having a remarkably rich tenor voice, he was always ready to
oblige with an excellent song. He appeared to have plenty of
money, which was said to have been gained in the California
gold fields, and it was clear from his own talk and that of his
wife that he had spent a part of his life in America.

The good impression which had been produced by his generosity
and by his democratic manners was increased by a reputation
gained for utter indifference to danger. Though a wretched