At last there came one dreadful day when the facts could nolonger be concealed from the husband. The nurse’s nerve had givenway; she could stand the strain no longer, and she made a cleanbreast of it all to the man. To him it seemed as wild a tale as it maynow seem to you. He knew his wife to be a loving wife, and, save forthe assaults upon her stepson, a loving mother. Why, then, shouldshe wound her own dear little baby? He told the nurse that she wasdreaming, that her suspicions were those of a lunatic, and that suchlibels upon her mistress were not to be tolerated. While they weretalking a sudden cry of pain was heard. Nurse and master rushedtogether to the nursery. Imagine his feelings, Mr. Holmes, as he sawhis wife rise from a kneeling position beside the cot and saw bloodupon the child’s exposed neck and upon the sheet. With a cry ofhorror, he turned his wife’s face to the light and saw blood all roundher lips. It was she—she beyond all question—who had drunk thepoor baby’s blood.
So the matter stands. She is now confined to her room. There hasbeen no explanation. The husband is half demented. He knows, andI know, little of vampirism beyond the name. We had thought it wassome wild tale of foreign parts. And yet here in the very heart ofthe English Sussex—well, all this can be discussed with you in themorning. Will you see me? Will you use your great powers in aidinga distracted man? If so, kindly wire to Ferguson, Cheeseman’s,Lamberley, and I will be at your rooms by ten o’clock.
Yours faithfully,
ROBERT FERGUSON.
P. S. I believe your friend Watson played Rugby for Blackheathwhen I was three-quarter for Richmond. It is the only personalintroduction which I can give.
“Of course I remembered him,” said I as I laid down the letter.
“Big Bob Ferguson, the finest three-quarter Richmond everhad. He was always a good-natured chap. It’s like him to be soconcerned over a friend’s case.”
Holmes looked at me thoughtfully and shook his head.
“I never get your limits, Watson,” said he. “There are unexploredpossibilities about you. Take a wire down, like a good fellow. ‘Willexamine your case with pleasure.’ ”
“Your case!”
“We must not let him think that this agency is a home for theweak-minded. Of course it is his case. Send him that wire and letthe matter rest till morning.”
Promptly at ten o’clock next morning Ferguson strode into ourroom. I had remembered him as a long, slab-sided man with looselimbs and a fine turn of speed which had carried him round manyan opposing back. There is surely nothing in life more painfulthan to meet the wreck of a fine athlete whom one has known inhis prime. His great frame had fallen in, his flaxen hair was scanty,and his shoulders were bowed. I fear that I roused correspondingemotions in him.
“Hullo, Watson,” said he, and his voice was still deep and hearty.
“You don’t look quite the man you did when I threw you overthe ropes into the crowd at the Old Deer Park. I expect I havechanged a bit also. But it’s this last day or two that has aged me. Isee by your telegram, Mr. Holmes, that it is no use my pretendingto be anyone’s deputy.” .
“It is simpler to deal direct,” said Holmes.
“Of course it is. But you can imagine how difficult it is when youare speaking of the one woman whom you are bound to protectand help. What can I do? How am I to go to the police with such astory? And yet the kiddies have got to be protected. Is it madness,Mr. Holmes? Is it something in the blood? Have you any similarcase in your experience? For God’s sake, give me some advice, forI am at my wit’s end.”
“Very naturally, Mr. Ferguson. Now sit here and pull yourselftogether and give me a few clear answers. I can assure you that Iam very far from being at my wit’s end, and that I am confident weshall find some solution. First of all, tell me what steps you havetaken. Is your wife still near the children?”
“We had a dreadful scene. She is a most loving woman, Mr.
Holmes. If ever a woman loved a man with all her heart andsoul, she loves me. She was cut to the heart that I should havediscovered this horrible, this incredible, secret. She would noteven speak. She gave no answer to my reproaches, save to gazeat me with a sort of wild, despairing look in her eyes. Then sherushed to her room and locked herself in. Since then she hasrefused to see me. She has a maid who was with her before hermarriage, Dolores by name—a friend rather than a servant. Shetakes her food to her.”
“Then the child is in no immediate danger?”
“Mrs. Mason, the nurse, has sworn that she will not leave itnight or day. I can absolutely trust her. I am more uneasy aboutpoor little Jack, for, as I told you in my note, he has twice beenassaulted by her.”
“But never wounded?”
“No, she struck him savagely. It is the more terrible as he is apoor little inoffensive cripple.” Ferguson’s gaunt features softened ashe spoke of his boy. “You would think that the dear lad’s conditionwould soften anyone’s heart. A fall in childhood and a twistedspine, Mr. Holmes. But the dearest, most loving heart within.”
Holmes had picked up the letter of yesterday and was reading itover. “What other inmates are there in your house, Mr. Ferguson?”
“Two servants who have not been long with us. One stablehand,Michael, who sleeps in the house. My wife, myself, my boy Jack,baby, Dolores, and Mrs. Mason. That is all.”
“I gather that you did not know your wife well at the time ofyour marriage?”
“I had only known her a few weeks.”
“How long had this maid Dolores been with her?”
“Some years.”
“Then your wife’s character would really be better known byDolores than by you?”
“Yes, you may say so.”
Holmes made a note.
“I fancy,” said he, “that I may be of more use at Lamberleythan here. It is eminently a case for personal investigation. Ifthe lady remains in her room, our presence could not annoy orinconvenience her. Of course, we would stay at the inn.”
Ferguson gave a gesture of relief.
“It is what I hoped, Mr. Holmes. There is an excellent train attwo from Victoria if you could come.”