fiend when
he was drunk, or rather when he was half drunk, for he seldom really
went the whole way. The devil seemed to be in him at such times, and he
was capable of anything. From what I hear, in spite of all his wealth
and his title, he very nearly came our way once or twice. There was
a scandal about his drenching a dog with petroleum and setting it on
fire--her ladyship's dog, to make the matter worse--and that was only
hushed up with difficulty. Then he threw a decanter at that maid,
Theresa Wright--there was trouble about that. On the whole, and between
ourselves, it will be a brighter house without him. What are you looking
at now?"

Holmes was down on his knees, examining with great attention the
knots upon the red cord with which the lady had been secured. Then he
carefully scrutinized the broken and frayed end where it had snapped off
when the burglar had dragged it down.

"When this was pulled down, the bell in the kitchen must have rung
loudly," he remarked.

"No one could hear it. The kitchen stands right at the back of the
house."

"How did the burglar know no one would hear it? How dared he pull at a
bell-rope in that reckless fashion?"

"Exactly, Mr. Holmes, exactly. You put the very question which I have
asked myself again and again. There can be no doubt that this fellow
must have known the house and its habits. He must have perfectly
understood that the servants would all be in bed at that comparatively
early hour, and that no one could possibly hear a bell ring in the
kitchen. Therefore, he must have been in close league with one of the
servants. Surely that is evident. But there are eight servants, and all
of good character."

"Other things being equal," said Holmes, "one would suspect the one
at whose head the master threw a decanter. And yet that would involve
treachery towards the mistress to whom this woman seems devoted. Well,
well, the point is a minor one, and when you have Randall you will
probably find no difficulty in securing his accomplice. The lady's story
certainly seems to be corroborated, if it needed corroboration, by every
detail which we see before us." He walked to the French window and threw
it open. "There are no signs here, but the ground is iron hard, and one
would not expect them. I see that these candles in the mantelpiece have
been lighted."

"Yes, it was by their light and that of the lady's bedroom candle, that
the burglars saw their way about."

"And what