ch the publican had spoken; but
who he was or what he wanted was as obscure as ever. It was the severity
of Holmes's manner and the fact that he slipped a revolver into his
pocket before leaving our rooms which impressed me with the feeling that
tragedy might prove to lurk behind this curious train of events.

A rainy night had been followed by a glorious morning, and the
heath-covered country-side with the glowing clumps of flowering gorse
seemed all the more beautiful to eyes which were weary of the duns and
drabs and slate-greys of London. Holmes and I walked along the broad,
sandy road inhaling the fresh morning air, and rejoicing in the music of
the birds and the fresh breath of the spring. From a rise of the road on
the shoulder of Crooksbury Hill we could see the grim Hall bristling
out from amidst the ancient oaks, which, old as they were, were still
younger than the building which they surrounded. Holmes pointed down the
long tract of road which wound, a reddish yellow band, between the brown
of the heath and the budding green of the woods. Far away, a black
dot, we could see a vehicle moving in our direction. Holmes gave an
exclamation of impatience.

"I had given a margin of half an hour," said he. "If that is her trap
she must be making for the earlier train. I fear, Watson, that she will
be past Charlington before we can possibly meet her."

From the instant that we passed the rise we could no longer see the
vehicle, but we hastened onwards at such a pace that my sedentary life
began to tell upon me, and I was compelled to fall behind. Holmes,
however, was always in training, for he had inexhaustible stores of
nervous energy upon which to draw. His springy step never slowed until
suddenly, when he was a hundred yards in front of me, he halted, and I
saw him throw up his hand with a gesture of grief and despair. At the
same instant an empty dog-cart, the horse cantering, the reins trailing,
appeared round the curve of the road and rattled swiftly towards us.

"Too late, Watson; too late!" cried Holmes, as I ran panting to his
side. "Fool that I was not to allow for that earlier train! It's
abduction, Watson--abduction! Murder! Heaven knows what! Block the road!
Stop the horse! That's right. Now, jump in, and let us see if I can
repair the consequences of my own blunder."

We had sprung into the dog-cart, and Holmes, after turning the horse,
gave it a sharp cut with the whip, and we flew back along the ro