e could
not get out of it without explanations which would expose his secret. I
tried to cheer him up by wire, and he sent me one in reply, imploring
me to do all I could. This was the telegram which you appear in some
inexplicable way to have seen. I did not tell him how urgent the danger
was, for I knew that he could do no good here, but I sent the truth to
the girl's father, and he very injudiciously communicated it to Godfrey.
The result was that he came straight away in a state bordering on
frenzy, and has remained in the same state, kneeling at the end of her
bed, until this morning death put an end to her sufferings. That is all,
Mr. Holmes, and I am sure that I can rely upon your discretion and that
of your friend."

Holmes grasped the doctor's hand.

"Come, Watson," said he, and we passed from that house of grief into the
pale sunlight of the winter day.

THE ADVENTURE OF THE ABBEY GRANGE

It was on a bitterly cold and frosty morning, towards the end of the
winter of '97, that I was awakened by a tugging at my shoulder. It was
Holmes. The candle in his hand shone upon his eager, stooping face, and
told me at a glance that something was amiss.

"Come, Watson, come!" he cried. "The game is afoot. Not a word! Into
your clothes and come!"

Ten minutes later we were both in a cab, and rattling through the silent
streets on our way to Charing Cross Station. The first faint winter's
dawn was beginning to appear, and we could dimly see the occasional
figure of an early workman as he passed us, blurred and indistinct in
the opalescent London reek. Holmes nestled in silence into his heavy
coat, and I was glad to do the same, for the air was most bitter, and
neither of us had broken our fast.

It was not until we had consumed some hot tea at the station and taken
our places in the Kentish train that we were sufficiently thawed, he
to speak and I to listen. Holmes drew a note from his pocket, and read
aloud:

Abbey Grange, Marsham, Kent, 3:30 A.M. MY DEAR MR. HOLMES:

I should be very glad of your immediate assistance in what promises to
be a most remarkable case. It is something quite in your line. Except
for releasing the lady I will see that everything is kept exactly as I
have found it, but I beg you not to lose an instant, as it is difficult
to leave Sir Eustace there. Yours faithfully, STANLEY HOPKINS.

"Hopkins has called me in seven times, and on each occasion his summons
has been entirely ju