“When I found Mr. Bennett had left his hotel I thought Ishould probably find him here. Of course, he had told me that hewould consult you. But, oh, Mr. Holmes, can you do nothing formy poor father?”
“I have hopes, Miss Presbury, but the case is still obscure.
Perhaps what you have to say may throw some fresh light upon it.”
“It was last night, Mr. Holmes. He had been very strange all day.
I am sure that there are times when he has no recollection of whathe does. He lives as in a strange dream. Yesterday was such a day.
It was not my father with whom I lived. His outward shell wasthere, but it was not really he.”
“Tell me what happened.”
“I was awakened in the night by the dog barking most furiously.
Poor Roy, he is chained now near the stable. I may say that Ialways sleep with my door locked; for, as Jack—as Mr. Bennett—will tell you, we all have a feeling of impending danger. My roomis on the second floor. It happened that the blind was up in mywindow, and there was bright moonlight outside. As I lay withmy eyes fixed upon the square of light, listening to the frenziedbarkings of the dog, I was amazed to see my father’s face lookingin at me. Mr. Holmes, I nearly died of surprise and horror. Thereit was pressed against the windowpane, and one hand seemed tobe raised as if to push up the window. If that window had opened,I think I should have gone mad. It was no delusion, Mr. Holmes.
Don’t deceive yourself by thinking so. I dare say it was twentyseconds or so that I lay paralyzed and watched the face. Then itvanished, but I could not—I could not spring out of bed and lookout after it. I lay cold and shivering till morning. At breakfasthe was sharp and fierce in manner, and made no allusion to theadventure of the night. Neither did I, but I gave an excuse forcoming to town—and here I am.”
Holmes looked thoroughly surprised at Miss Presbury’s narrative.
“My dear young lady, you say that your room is on the secondfloor. Is there a long ladder in the garden?”
“No, Mr. Holmes, that is the amazing part of it. There is nopossible way of reaching the window—and yet he was there.”
“The date being September 5th,” said Holmes. “That certainlycomplicates matters.”
It was the young lady’s turn to look surprised. “This is thesecond time that you have alluded to the date, Mr. Holmes,” saidBennett. “Is it possible that it has any bearing upon the case?”
“It is possible—very possible—and yet I have not my fullmaterial at present.”
“Possibly you are thinking of the connection between insanityand phases of the moon?”
“No, I assure you. It was quite a different line of thought.
Possibly you can leave your notebook with me, and I will checkthe dates. Now I think, Watson, that our line of action is perfectlyclear. This young lady has informed us—and I have the greatestconfidence in her intuition—that her father remembers little ornothing which occurs upon certain dates. We will therefore callupon him as if he had given us an appointment upon such a date.
He will put it down to his own lack of memory. Thus we will openour campaign by having a good close view of him.”
“That is excellent,” said Mr. Bennett. “I warn you, however, thatthe professor is irascible and violent at times.”
Holmes smiled. “There are reasons why we should comeat once—very cogent reasons if my theories hold good. Tomorrow,Mr. Bennett, will certainly see us in Camford. There is,if I remember right, an inn called the Chequers where the portused to be above mediocrity and the linen was above reproach. Ithink, Watson, that our lot for the next few days might lie in lesspleasant places.”
Monday morning found us on our way to the famous universitytown—an easy effort on the part of Holmes, who had no rootsto pull up, but one which involved frantic planning and hurryingon my part, as my practice was by this time not inconsiderable.
Holmes made no allusion to the case until after we had depositedour suitcases at the ancient hostel of which he had spoken.
“I think, Watson, that we can catch the professor just beforelunch. He lectures at eleven and should have an interval at home.”
“What possible excuse have we for calling?”
Holmes glanced at his notebook.
“There was a period of excitement upon August 26th. We willassume that he is a little hazy as to what he does at such times. Ifwe insist that we are there by appointment I think he will hardlyventure to contradict us. Have you the effrontery necessary to putit through?”
“We can but try.”
“Excellent, Watson! Compound of the Busy Bee and Excelsior.
We can but try—the motto of the firm. A friendly native will surelyguide us.”
Such a one on the back of a smart hansom swept us past a rowof ancient colleges and, finally turning into a tree-lined drive,pulled up at the door of a charming house, girt round with lawnsand covered with purple wistaria. Professor Presbury was certainlysurrounded with every sign not only of comfort but of luxury. Evenas we pulled up, a grizzled head appeared at the front window, andwe were aware of a pair of keen eyes from under shaggy browswhich surveyed us through large horn glasses. A moment later wewere actually in his sanctum, and the mysterious scientist, whosevagaries had brought us from London, was standing before us.
There was certainly no sign of eccentricity either in his manner orappearance, for he was a portly, large-featured man, grave, tall, andfrock-coated, with the dignity of bearing which a lecturer needs.
His eyes were his most remarkable feature, keen, observant, andclever to the verge of cunning.
He looked at our cards. “Pray sit down, gentlemen. What can Ido for you?”
Mr. Holmes smiled amiably.
“It was the question which I was about to put to you, Professor.”
“To me, sir!”
“Possibly there is some mistake. I heard through a secondperson that Professor Presbury of Camford had need of myservices.”
“Oh, indeed!” It seemed to me that there was a malicioussparkle in the intense gray eyes. “You heard that, did you? May Iask the name of your informant?”