Someone was walking in the chapel above. It was the firm, rapidstep of one who came with a definite purpose and knew well theground upon which he walked. A light streamed down the stairs,and an instant later the man who bore it was framed in the Gothicarchway. He was a terrible figure, huge in stature and fierce inmanner. A large stable-lantern which he held in front of him shoneupward upon a strong, heavily moustached face and angry eyes,which glared round him into every recess of the vault, finally fixingthemselves with a deadly stare upon my companion and myself.
“Who the devil are you?” he thundered. “And what are youdoing upon my property?” Then, as Holmes returned no answer hetook a couple of steps forward and raised a heavy stick which hecarried. “Do you hear me?” he cried. “Who are you? What are youdoing here?” His cudgel quivered in the air.
But instead of shrinking Holmes advanced to meet him.
“I also have a question to ask you, Sir Robert,” he said in hissternest tone. “Who is this? And what is it doing here?”
He turned and tore open the coffin-lid behind him. In the glareof the lantern I saw a body swathed in a sheet from head to footwith dreadful, witch-like features, all nose and chin, projectingat one end, the dim, glazed eyes staring from a discoloured andcrumbling face.
The baronet had staggered back with a cry and supportedhimself against a stone sarcophagus.
“How came you to know of this?” he cried. And then, with somereturn of his truculent manner: “What business is it of yours?”
“My name is Sherlock Holmes,” said my companion. “ Possiblyit is familiar to you. In any case, my business is that of every othergood citizen—to uphold the law. It seems to me that you havemuch to answer for.”
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Sir Robert glared for a moment, but Holmes’s quiet voice andcool, assured manner had their effect.
“ ‘Fore God, Mr. Holmes, it’s all right,” said he. “ Appearancesare against me, I’ll admit, but I could act no otherwise.”
“I should be happy to think so, but I fear your explanationsmust be before the police.”
Sir Robert shrugged his broad shoulders.
“Well, if it must be, it must. Come up to the house and you canjudge for yourself how the matter stands.”
A quarter of an hour later we found ourselves in what I judge,from the lines of polished barrels behind glass covers, to be thegun-room of the old house. It was comfortably furnished, andhere Sir Robert left us for a few moments. When he returned hehad two companions with him; the one, the florid young womanwhom we had seen in the carriage; the other, a small rat-faced manwith a disagreeably furtive manner. These two wore an appearanceof utter bewilderment, which showed that the baronet had not yethad time to explain to them the turn events had taken.
“There,” said Sir Robert with a wave of his hand, “are Mr. andMrs. Norlett. Mrs. Norlett, under her maiden name of Evans, hasfor some years been my sister’s confidential maid. I have broughtthem here because I feel that my best course is to explain the trueposition to you, and they are the two people upon earth who cansubstantiate what I say.”
“Is this necessary, Sir Robert? Have you thought what you aredoing?” cried the woman.
“As to me, I entirely disclaim all responsibility,” said her husband.
Sir Robert gave him a glance of contempt. “I will take allresponsibility,” said he. “Now, Mr. Holmes, listen to a plainstatement of the facts.
“You have clearly gone pretty deeply into my affairs or I shouldnot have found you where I did. Therefore, you know already, inall probability, that I am running a dark horse for the Derby andthat everything depends upon my success. If I win, all is easy. If Ilose—well, I dare not think of that!”
“I understand the position,” said Holmes.
“I am dependent upon my sister, Lady Beatrice, for everything.
But it is well known that her interest in the estate is for her ownlife only. For myself, I am deeply in the hands of the Jews. I havealways known that if my sister were to die my creditors wouldbe on to my estate like a flock of vultures. Everything would beseized—my stables, my horses—everything. Well, Mr. Holmes, mysister did die just a week ago.”
“And you told no one!”
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“What could I do? Absolute ruin faced me. If I could stavethings off for three weeks all would be well. Her maid’s husband—this man here—is an actor. It came into our heads—it came intomy head—that he could for that short period personate my sister.
It was but a case of appearing daily in the carriage, for no oneneed enter her room save the maid. It was not difficult to arrange.
My sister died of the dropsy which had long afflicted her.”
“That will be for a coroner to decide.”
“Her doctor would certify that for months her symptoms havethreatened such an end.”
“Well, what did you do?”
“The body could not remain there. On the first night Norlettand I carried it out to the old well-house, which is now never used.
We were followed, however, by her pet spaniel, which yappedcontinually at the door, so I felt some safer place was needed. Igot rid of the spaniel, and we carried the body to the crypt of thechurch. There was no indignity or irreverence, Mr. Holmes. I donot feel that I have wronged the dead.”
“Your conduct seems to me inexcusable, Sir Robert.”
The baronet shook his head impatiently. “It is easy to preach,”
