She was brown with the dust and draped with the cobwebswhich had come from the walls of her hiding-place. Her face, too,was streaked with grime, and at the best she could never havebeen handsome, for she had the exact physical characteristicswhich Holmes had divined, with, in addition, a long andobstinate chin. What with her natural blindness, and what withthe change from dark to light, she stood as one dazed, blinkingabout her to see where and who we were. And yet, in spite of allthese disadvantages, there was a certain nobility in the woman’sbearing—a gallantry in the defiant chin and in the upraised head,which compelled something of respect and admiration.
The Return of Sherlock Holmes 1027
Stanley Hopkins had laid his hand upon her arm and claimedher as his prisoner, but she waved him aside gently, and yet with anover-mastering dignity which compelled obedience. The old manlay back in his chair with a twitching face, and stared at her withbrooding eyes.
“Yes, sir, I am your prisoner,” she said. “From where I stood Icould hear everything, and I know that you have learned the truth.
I confess it all. It was I who killed the young man. But you areright—you who say it was an accident. I did not even know that itwas a knife which I held in my hand, for in my despair I snatchedanything from the table and struck at him to make him let me go.
It is the truth that I tell.”
“Madam,” said Holmes, “I am sure that it is the truth. I fearthat you are far from well.”
She had turned a dreadful colour, the more ghastly under thedark dust-streaks upon her face. She seated herself on the side ofthe bed; then she resumed.
“I have only a little time here,” she said, “but I would haveyou to know the whole truth. I am this man’s wife. He is not anEnglishman. He is a Russian. His name I will not tell.”
For the first time the old man stirred. “God bless you, Anna!” hecried. “God bless you!”
She cast a look of the deepest disdain in his direction. “Whyshould you cling so hard to that wretched life of yours, Sergius?”
said she. “It has done harm to many and good to none—not evento yourself. However, it is not for me to cause the frail thread tobe snapped before God’s time. I have enough already upon mysoul since I crossed the threshold of this cursed house. But I mustspeak or I shall be too late.
“I have said, gentlemen, that I am this man’s wife. He was fiftyand I a foolish girl of twenty when we married. It was in a city ofRussia, a university—I will not name the place.”
“God bless you, Anna!” murmured the old man again.
“We were reformers—revolutionists—Nihilists, you understand.
He and I and many more. Then there came a time of trouble, apolice officer was killed, many were arrested, evidence was wanted,and in order to save his own life and to earn a great reward, myhusband betrayed his own wife and his companions. Yes, we wereall arrested upon his confession. Some of us found our way to thegallows, and some to Siberia. I was among these last, but my termwas not for life. My husband came to England with his ill-gottengains and has lived in quiet ever since, knowing well that if theBrotherhood knew where he was not a week would pass beforejustice would be done.”
The old man reached out a trembling hand and helped himself toa cigarette. “I am in your hands, Anna,” said he. “You were alwaysgood to me.”
1028 The Complete Sherlock Holmes
“I have not yet told you the height of his villainy,” said she.
Among our comrades of the Order, there was one who was thefriend of my heart. He was noble, unselfish, loving—all that myhusband was not. He hated violence. We were all guilty—if that isguilt—but he was not. He wrote forever dissuading us from suchcourse. These letters would have saved him. So would my diary,in which, from day to day, I had entered both my feelings towardshim and the view which each of us had taken. My husband foundand kept both diary and letters. He hid them, and he tried hard toswear away the young man’s life. In this he failed, but Alexis wassent a convict to Siberia, where now, at this moment, he works insalt mine. Think of that, you villain, you villain!—now, now, atthis very moment, Alexis, a man whose name you are not worthyto speak, works and lives like a slave, and yet I have your life in myhands, and I let you go.”
“You were always a noble woman, Anna,” said the old man,puffing at his cigarette.
She had risen, but she fell back again with a little cry of pain.
“I must finish,” she said. “When my term was over I setmyself to get the diary and letters which, if sent to the Russiangovernment, would procure my friend’s release. I knew thatmy husband had come to England. After months of searching Idiscovered where he was. I knew that he still had the diary, forwhen I was in Siberia I had a letter from him once, reproaching meand quoting some passages from its pages. Yet I was sure that, withhis revengeful nature, he would never give it to me of his own freewill.
I must get it for myself. With this object I engaged an agentfrom a private detective firm, who entered my husband’s house assecretary—it was your second secretary, Sergius, the one who leftyou so hurriedly. He found that papers were kept in the cupboard,and he got an impression of the key. He would not go farther. Hefurnished me with a plan of the house, and he told me that in theforenoon the study was always empty, as the secretary was employedup here. So at last I took my courage in both hands, and I camedown to get the papers for myself. I succeeded; but at what a cost!
“I had just taken the paper; and was locking the cupboard, whenthe young man seized me. I had seen him already that morning.
He had met me on the road, and I had asked him to tell me whereProfessor Coram lived, not knowing that he was in his employ.”
“Exactly! Exactly!” said Holmes. “The secretary came back,and told his employer of the woman he had met. Then, in his lastbreath, he tried to send a message that it was she—the she whomhe had just discussed with him.”