Then I rushed up the stairs, only to find two other rooms emptyand deserted at the top. There was no one at all in the wholehouse. The furniture and pictures were of the most commonand vulgar description, save in the one chamber at the windowof which I had seen the strange face. That was comfortableand elegant, and all my suspicions rose into a fierce bitter flamewhen I saw that on the mantelpiece stood a copy of a full-lengthphotograph of my wife, which had been taken at my request onlythree months ago.
“I stayed long enough to make certain that the house wasabsolutely empty. Then I left it, feeling a weight at my heart suchas I had never had before. My wife came out into the hall as Ientered my house; but I was too hurt and angry to speak with her,and pushing past her, I made my way into my study. She followedme, however, before I could close the door.
“ ‘I am sorry that I broke my promise, Jack,’ said she, ‘but if youknew all the circumstances I am sure that you would forgive me.’
“ ‘Tell me everything, then,’ said I.
“ ‘I cannot, Jack, I cannot,’ she cried.
“ ‘Until you tell me who it is that has been living in that cottage,and who it is to whom you have given that photograph, there cannever be any confidence between us,’ said I, and breaking awayfrom her, I left the house. That was yesterday, Mr. Holmes, and Ihave not seen her since, nor do I know anything more about thisstrange business. It is the first shadow that has come between us,and it has so shaken me that I do not know what I should do forthe best. Suddenly this morning it occurred to me that you werethe man to advise me, so I have hurried to you now, and I placemyself unreservedly in your hands. If there is any point which Ihave not made clear, pray question me about it. But, above all, tellme quickly what I am to do, for this misery is more than I canbear.”
Holmes and I had listened with the utmost interest to thisextraordinary statement, which had been delivered in the jerky,broken fashion of a man who is under the influence of extremeemotions. My companion sat silent for some time, with his chinupon his hand, lost in thought.
“Tell me,” said he at last, “could you swear that this was a man’sface which you saw at the window?”
“Each time that I saw it I was some distance away from it, sothat it is impossible for me to say.”
“You appear, however, to have been disagreeably impressed byit.”
“It seemed to be of an unnatural color, and to have a strangerigidity about the features. When I approached, it vanished with ajerk.”
“How long is it since your wife asked you for a hundredpounds?”
“Nearly two months.”
“Have you ever seen a photograph of her first husband?”
“No, there was a great fire at Atlanta very shortly after his death,and all her papers were destroyed.”
“And yet she had a certificate of death. You say that you saw it.”
“Yes, she got a duplicate after the fire.”
“Did you ever meet any one who knew her in America?”
“No.”
“Did she ever talk of revisiting the place?”
“No.”
“Or get letters from it?”
“No.”
“Thank you. I should like to think over the matter a little now.
If the cottage is now permanently deserted we may have somedifficulty. If, on the other hand, as I fancy is more likely, theinmates were warned of your coming, and left before you enteredyesterday, then they may be back now, and we should clear it allup easily. Let me advise you, then, to return to Norbury, and toexamine the windows of the cottage again. If you have reason tobelieve that it is inhabited, do not force your way in, but send awire to my friend and me. We shall be with you within an hour ofreceiving it, and we shall then very soon get to the bottom of thebusiness.”
“And if it is still empty?”
“In that case I shall come out to-morrow and talk it over withyou. Good-bye, and, above all, do not fret until you know that youreally have a cause for it.”
“I am afraid that this is a bad business, Watson,” said mycompanion, as he returned after accompanying Mr. Grant Munroto the door. “What do you make of it?”
“It had an ugly sound,” I answered.
“Yes. There’s blackmail in it, or I am much mistaken.”
“And who is the blackmailer?”
“Well, it must be the creature who lives in the only comfortableroom in the place, and has her photograph above his fireplace.
Upon my word, Watson, there is something very attractive aboutthat livid face at the window, and I would not have missed the casefor worlds.”
“You have a theory?”
“Yes, a provisional one. But I shall be surprised if it does notturn out to be correct. This woman’s first husband is in thatcottage.”
“Why do you think so?”