Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle


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Page 62

"'And under,' he cried. 'You have omitted the "and
under."'

"I had thought that it meant that we were to dig, but
now, of course, I saw at once that I was wrong.
'There is a cellar under this then?' I cried.

"'Yes, and as old as the house. Down here, through
this door.'

"We went down a winding stone stair, and my companion,
striking a match, lit a large lantern which stood on a
barrel in the corner. In an instant it was obvious
that we had at last come upon the true place, and that
we had not been the only people to visit the spot
recently.

"It had been used for the storage of wood, but the
billets, which had evidently been littered over the
floor, were now piled at the sides, so as to leave a
clear space in the middle. In this space lay a large
and heavy flagstone with a rusted iron ring in the
centre to which a thick shepherd's-check muffler was
attached.

"'By Jove!' cried my client. 'That's Brunton's
muffler. I have seen it on him, and could swear to
it. What has the villain been doing here?'

"At my suggestion a couple of the county police were
summoned to be present, and I then endeavored to raise
the stone by pulling on the cravat. I could only move
it slightly, and it was with the aid of one of the
constables that I succeeded at last in carrying it to
one side. A black hole yawned beneath into which we
all peered, while Musgrave, kneeling at the side,
pushed down the lantern.

"A small chamber about seven feet deep and four feet
square lay open to us. At one side of this was a
squat, brass-bound wooden box, the lid of which was
hinged upwards, with this curious old-fashioned key
projecting from the lock. It was furred outside by a
thick layer of dust, and damp and worms had eaten
through the wood, so that a crop of livid fungi was
growing on the inside of it. Several discs of metal,
old coins apparently, such as I hold here, were
scattered over the bottom of the box, but it contained
nothing else.

"At the moment, however, we had no thought for the old
chest, for our eyes were riveted upon that which
crouched beside it. It was the figure of a man, clad
in a suit of black, who squatted down upon his hams
with his forehead sunk upon the edge of the box and
his two arms thrown out on each side of it. The
attitude had drawn all the stagnant blood to the face,
and no man could have recognized that distorted
liver-colored countenance; but his height, his dress,
and his hair were all sufficient to show my client,
when we had drawn the body up, that it was indeed his
missing butler. He had been dead some days, but there
was no wound or bruise upon his person to show how he
had met his dreadful end. When his body had been
carried from the cellar we found ourselves still
confronted with a problem which was almost as
formidable as that with which we had started.

"I confess that so far, Watson, I had been
disappointed in my investigation. I had reckoned upon
solving the matter when once I had found the place
referred to in the Ritual; but now I was there, and
was apparently as far as ever from knowing what it was
which the family had concealed with such elaborate
precautions. It is true that I had thrown a light
upon the fate of Brunton, but now I had to ascertain
how that fate had come upon him, and what part had
been played in the matter by the woman who had
disappeared. I sat down upon a keg in the corner and
thought the whole matter carefully over.

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Books | Photos | Paul Mutton | Thu 25th Dec 2025, 8:46