r now, Cecil," said she. "Whatever comes of it
in the future, you have done enough."

"Enough and more than enough," remarked Sherlock Holmes gravely. "I have
every sympathy with you, madam, and should strongly urge you to have
some confidence in the common sense of our jurisdiction and to take the
police voluntarily into your complete confidence. It may be that I am
myself at fault for not following up the hint which you conveyed to me
through my friend, Dr. Watson; but, at that time I had every reason to
believe that you were directly concerned in the crime. Now I am
assured that this is not so. At the same time, there is much that is
unexplained, and I should strongly recommend that you ask Mr. Douglas to
tell us his own story."

Mrs. Douglas gave a cry of astonishment at Holmes's words. The
detectives and I must have echoed it, when we were aware of a man who
seemed to have emerged from the wall, who advanced now from the gloom
of the corner in which he had appeared. Mrs. Douglas turned, and in
an instant her arms were round him. Barker had seized his outstretched
hand.

"It's best this way, Jack," his wife repeated; "I am sure that it is
best."

"Indeed, yes, Mr. Douglas," said Sherlock Holmes, "I am sure that you
will find it best."

The man stood blinking at us with the dazed look of one who comes from
the dark into the light. It was a remarkable face, bold gray eyes, a
strong, short-clipped, grizzled moustache, a square, projecting chin,
and a humorous mouth. He took a good look at us all, and then to my
amazement he advanced to me and handed me a bundle of paper.

"I've heard of you," said he in a voice which was not quite English and
not quite American, but was altogether mellow and pleasing. "You are the
historian of this bunch. Well, Dr. Watson, you've never had such a story
as that pass through your hands before, and I'll lay my last dollar on
that. Tell it your own way; but there are the facts, and you can't miss
the public so long as you have those. I've been cooped up two days, and
I've spent the daylight hours--as much daylight as I could get in that
rat trap--in putting the thing into words. You're welcome to them--you
and your public. There's the story of the Valley of Fear."

"That's the past, Mr. Douglas," said Sherlock Holmes quietly. "What we
desire now is to hear your story of the present."

"You'll have it, sir," said Douglas. "May I smoke as I talk? Well, thank
you, Mr. Holmes. You're