Seldom have I had the opportunity to bring a case to the attention of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. My published accounts of his exploits have, of course, brought him new clients, but only twice have I presented him with a problem on my own account. One is described elsewhere under the title "The Engineer's Thumb". The other occurred just after the strange affair of the Red-Headed League, in 1887.
It was our custom after breakfast, if no case (medical or criminal) claimed our attention, to peruse the daily press until the first post arrived. While I read up the political and sporting news, Holmes reveled in the agony columns, his scissors clipping out the more bizarre items for his commonplace book. When the post was brought up, the only letter was addressed to me. It read:
Tremorden Castle
Penzance, Cornwall
12th inst.
Dear Watson,
Do you still recall the days we spent in India's clime? Young Warburton is home on leave. He's staying with us for a time. The other day he mentioned you; he'd like to see your face again. Come down, and bring your Mr. Holmes. The 12:02 is the best train. We'll offer you a bit of sport if you're inclined to ride or fish, or you can lie in bed and rest instead, if that should be your wish. There's nothing worse than bossy hosts who force their guests to rush about, with garden fetes and local hunts and dancing till your feet give out.
Please wire ahead to let me know if you are able to come down, I'll send the carriage off to meet the both of you in Penzance town. I hope that your friend Mr. Holmes can find the time to visit us; to meet the great detective would be positively glorious.
Stanley, Maj. Gen. (Ret.)
"Do you fancy a week-end in Cornwall, Holmes?" I asked, passing the letter across to him. "General Stanley, Major Warburton and I were in hospital together at Peshawar, and the only whist players for miles. We became quite matey, considering the difference in rank. I read that Jock Warburton got his colonelcy just after I returned to England, and Stanley retired when his wife died; he's been looking after his daughters."
Holmes swiveled a wary eye, "Young children?" he asked.
"Not at all," I reassured him. "They've all come out, I believe, and if I know General Stanley, they behave better than the Guards on parade."
Making a long arm, Holmes dragged a heavy volume from the shelves and flipped the pages over. "Here he is, Watson! 'Stanley, Percival Edmund, Major General. Eton and Sandhurst, served with the 9th ---s in the Crimea, later posted to India with the 14th ----s and became military governor of a province after the Rebellion. Hm! Numerous honours, mentioned in dispatches. Retired 1885. Clubs, Army & Navy, White's. Present address, Tremorden Castle, Penzance, Cornwall.' And here, we have 'Warburton, James Andrew, Colonel, similar career, similar honours. Now serving in India.' These are certainly a pair of proven servants of the Crown. I wonder what the matter is?"
"Why should anything be the matter?" I scoffed.
"The psychology of the individual," Holmes replied. "When old friends, all military men, foregather, it is unlikely that they would include a stranger who has never been in uniform. Yet the General mentions me twice in his letter. He seems eager to meet me. To hazard a further hypothesis, the problem concerns Colonel Warburton."
"Why so?"
"Apparently, the Colonel has been down in Cornwall for a while, and he would have arranged his stay with General Stanley in advance. Yet, you are not invited down until after Colonel Warburton had been there long enough for the General to see something amiss about him. I expect..."
"Poppycock!" I cut him off. "I have the greatest respect for your talents, Holmes, but you are building castles in the air. There is probably a perfectly logical explanation for why I was not invited until now."
Holmes leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. "I expect so," he drawled. "I've given you mine; let me hear yours."
"Very well," I replied. "Neither of them had any reason to think of me in advance, as they had both remained in the Army while I did not. Like any soldiers, they have spent most of their time together yarning over their experiences in India, and only thought of asking me down when one of them said 'whatever happened to that Watson chap?'. As for you, they'll be able to impress their Army comrades by having met a celebrity."
Clapping his hands, Holmes admitted that my explanation was indeed more probable than his own. "Nevertheless, I have a nose for these things. I'll wager a dinner at Frascatti's that your General wants our advice as much as our company."
"Done!" I cried, reaching for Bradshaw. "We have just enough time to catch the train. I'll send off a telegram and pack".
A hansom cab, a train and a dog-cart ride later, we stood in the hall of Tremorden Castle being welcomed by General Stanley, who expressed delight at seeing me again and great pleasure at making the acquaintance of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. We were introduced to three of the General's daughters. Edith was red-haired and expansive of gesture, with a voice like a bugle; Kate was blonde, blue-eyed and twittered like a bird; and Mabel, dark and demure, said next to nothing. "The rest of them are around here somewhere, chivvying the servants about dinner and your rooms. Warburton's in the library, come have a drink."
I must say I enjoyed a small sense of victory over that drink. Jock Warburton was as relaxed and normal as could be. If he had a care in the world, it showed not a whit. Whisky, soda and small talk filled the half hour or so before dinner. As we crossed the hall to the dining room, I caught Holmes' eye and winked, cocking my head at Warburton. Holmes raised one skeptical eyebrow in reply.
The remainder of the General's daughters appeared for dinner. There must have been about a dozen of them, but they chattered and flitted so much that I never could take an accurate count, nor did I retain any names beyond the three we had met on arrival. The noise was like dining in the bird-house at the Zoo, and conversation among the men languished. I observed Warburton during dinner, and began to think my earlier feeling of victory might have been premature. His facial expressions and manner were most unsettling; he seemed to be fascinated by the sharp utensils and once poised a steak knife over his wrist, looking as if he were trying to decide whether it would be amusing to cut into the vein. Yet, when the ladies withdrew and the cigars and port came out, he became his old self again.
Nothing else of notice occurred that evening. Holmes and the General talked about Indian poisons, of all things, while Warburton and I played billiards. At about eleven o'clock, we retired, Holmes and I to adjoining rooms overlooking the cliffs and the ocean. I was in my shirt-sleeves when a soft tapping sounded on my door. I opened it to find General Stanley with his finger to his lips, enjoining silence as he slipped in and closed the door behind him.
"Watson, I need to speak to you about Warburton. Can we have your friend's opinion as well?" Without waiting for an answer, he knocked on the connecting door between my room and Holmes'. Instantly, the door swung open and Holmes walked in and sat down.
"I've been expecting you," said he. "I do hope that Watson and I can help with your problem."
The General was flustered. "How could you be expecting me, when I haven't said a word about it yet?"
"Simple deduction from psychological evidence. Watson may some day write it up as 'The Adventure of the Gratis Veal Marsala'. But that is of little consequence. Please, sir, start at the beginning. When did you first begin to worry about Colonel Warburton?'
"He's been here nine days, and for the first week he was right as rain. In the last couple of days, though, he seems to be having some sort of mild mental fits. You saw him with the knife at dinner tonight? Night before last one of the servants found him wandering around downstairs at three A.M. with a dagger from that display in the hall, calling 'Edward, where are you?'. There's no Edward in the house. Scared everyone half to death. Last night, he slept atop one of the tombs in the mausoleum, his arms crossed over his chest like he'd been laid out in lavender. The worst, though, was this morning, when Edith's cat came begging at the breakfast table. Warburton picked it up, petted it and then, sort of absent-mindedly, made as if he were going to bite its tail off! When the girls screamed, he just stopped himself, grinned that unnatural grin you saw at dinner, and said 'I beg your pardon'. My daughters are petrified, and I expect half the servants to give notice."
"Do you expect another sleep-walking episode tonight?" asked Holmes.
"Sleep-walking, eh? I doubt it. I've just come from locking him in for the night."
"Sound tactics, General. Watson and I will go riding with Colonel Warburton tomorrow. We will observe him closely and try to determine the cause of his behaviour."
This promise of help took a weight off the General's mind, and he left happier than he arrived. I tried to persuade Holmes to discuss the situation, but he claimed to be tired and went off to his bed.
The next morning, Warburton, Holmes and I took a leisurely ride along the cliffs. The Colonel was once again his affable self. Along the coast, we pulled up and dismounted to enjoy a pipe. I expected Holmes to probe Warburton's mind with subtle questions and comments, but he surprised me.
"The game's up, Colonel," he said. "It's really no good, and it has to stop." Warburton acted affronted, but Holmes silenced him with an upraised palm. "I. more than most men, understand your motives, but you can't go on disrupting the General's household and scaring the wits out of everyone".
"Perhaps I did overdo it, Mr. Holmes," he replied, "but I'm not an actor. Look here, do you have to tell them? It's a frightfully embarrassing thing, and I wouldn't like it to get back to my regiment."
"Pardon me," I interrupted, "but would one of you tell me what this is about?"
Holmes emitted a dry chuckle. "Certainly, Watson. But first, I will have you note that I have solved this case without any physical evidence; it has been a pure exercise in observation and deduction. You must write it up; it will be an excellent example of synthesis from personality and psychology.
"The Colonel, I am sure, will correct me when I my deductions stray from the truth. I would say it took him about three days to realize that he'd been brought down here as a possible husband for one of the General's many daughters, and another day or two to hit upon the plan of convincing them that he is just lunatic enough to make a poor matrimonial prize. I congratulate you, sir, on the originality of your conception, but I do think you overdid the execution."
Warburton grinned (his natural smile, not the deranged performance). "If you had been cooped up with those sirens for a week, with two more weeks to go, and competed for like the silver cup at the school sports, you would be inclined to over-exert yourself to get out of it. I couldn't see any other way, without offending General Stanley or the young ladies."
This seemed like the opportune time for me to contribute. "May I suggest, Colonel, that you are suffering the after-effects of battlefield horrors witnessed in the service of your country? No one will think badly of you. I could recommend that you return to London immediately with Holmes and me, where I will turn you over to a specialist named Thurston."
"An alienist?" the Colonel asked.
"Not quite," I winked. "Thurston runs the best billiard hall in Town. You took seven-and-six off me last night, and I mean to win it back".
Holmes burst out laughing, holding his sides. "That, Watson, is the most sensible and practical diagnosis and treatment I have ever heard. Let us make it so."
And so we returned to London, and I was obliged to treat both Holmes and Warburton to dinner.