Chapter 11
Part 11
11 min read · 2,123 words
“Well, last Monday evening I was taking a stroll down that way,
when I met an empty van coming up the lane, and saw a pile of
carpets and things lying about on the grass-plot beside the
porch. It was clear that the cottage had at last been let. I
walked past it, and wondered what sort of folk they were who had
come to live so near us. And as I looked I suddenly became aware
that a face was watching me out of one of the upper windows.
“I don’t know what there was about that face, Mr. Holmes, but it
seemed to send a chill right down my back. I was some little way
off, so that I could not make out the features, but there was
something unnatural and inhuman about the face. That was the
impression that I had, and I moved quickly forwards to get a
nearer view of the person who was watching me. But as I did so
the face suddenly disappeared, so suddenly that it seemed to have
been plucked away into the darkness of the room. I stood for five
minutes thinking the business over, and trying to analyze my
impressions. I could not tell if the face were that of a man or a
woman. It had been too far from me for that. But its colour was
what had impressed me most. It was of a livid chalky white, and
with something set and rigid about it which was shockingly
unnatural. So disturbed was I that I determined to see a little
more of the new inmates of the cottage. I approached and knocked
at the door, which was instantly opened by a tall, gaunt woman
with a harsh, forbidding face.
“‘What may you be wantin’?’ she asked, in a Northern accent.
“‘I am your neighbour over yonder,’ said I, nodding towards my
house. ‘I see that you have only just moved in, so I thought that
if I could be of any help to you in any—’
“‘Ay, we’ll just ask ye when we want ye,’ said she, and shut the
door in my face. Annoyed at the churlish rebuff, I turned my back
and walked home. All evening, though I tried to think of other
things, my mind would still turn to the apparition at the window
and the rudeness of the woman. I determined to say nothing about
the former to my wife, for she is a nervous, highly strung woman,
and I had no wish that she would share the unpleasant impression
which had been produced upon myself. I remarked to her, however,
before I fell asleep, that the cottage was now occupied, to which
she returned no reply.
“I am usually an extremely sound sleeper. It has been a standing
jest in the family that nothing could ever wake me during the
night. And yet somehow on that particular night, whether it may
have been the slight excitement produced by my little adventure
or not I know not, but I slept much more lightly than usual. Half
in my dreams I was dimly conscious that something was going on in
the room, and gradually became aware that my wife had dressed
herself and was slipping on her mantle and her bonnet. My lips
were parted to murmur out some sleepy words of surprise or
remonstrance at this untimely preparation, when suddenly my
half-opened eyes fell upon her face, illuminated by the
candle-light, and astonishment held me dumb. She wore an
expression such as I had never seen before—such as I should have
thought her incapable of assuming. She was deadly pale and
breathing fast, glancing furtively towards the bed as she
fastened her mantle, to see if she had disturbed me. Then,
thinking that I was still asleep, she slipped noiselessly from
the room, and an instant later I heard a sharp creaking which
could only come from the hinges of the front door. I sat up in
bed and rapped my knuckles against the rail to make certain that
I was truly awake. Then I took my watch from under the pillow. It
was three in the morning. What on this earth could my wife be
doing out on the country road at three in the morning?
“I had sat for about twenty minutes turning the thing over in my
mind and trying to find some possible explanation. The more I
thought, the more extraordinary and inexplicable did it appear. I
was still puzzling over it when I heard the door gently close
again, and her footsteps coming up the stairs.
“‘Where in the world have you been, Effie?’ I asked as she
entered.
“She gave a violent start and a kind of gasping cry when I spoke,
and that cry and start troubled me more than all the rest, for
there was something indescribably guilty about them. My wife had
always been a woman of a frank, open nature, and it gave me a
chill to see her slinking into her own room, and crying out and
wincing when her own husband spoke to her.
“‘You awake, Jack!’ she cried, with a nervous laugh. ‘Why, I
thought that nothing could awake you.’
“‘Where have you been?’ I asked, more sternly.
“‘I don’t wonder that you are surprised,’ said she, and I could
see that her fingers were trembling as she undid the fastenings
of her mantle. ‘Why, I never remember having done such a thing in
my life before. The fact is that I felt as though I were choking,
and had a perfect longing for a breath of fresh air. I really
think that I should have fainted if I had not gone out. I stood
at the door for a few minutes, and now I am quite myself again.’
“All the time that she was telling me this story she never once
looked in my direction, and her voice was quite unlike her usual
tones. It was evident to me that she was saying what was false. I
said nothing in reply, but turned my face to the wall, sick at
heart, with my mind filled with a thousand venomous doubts and
suspicions. What was it that my wife was concealing from me?
Where had she been during that strange expedition? I felt that I
should have no peace until I knew, and yet I shrank from asking
her again after once she had told me what was false. All the rest
of the night I tossed and tumbled, framing theory after theory,
each more unlikely than the last.
“I should have gone to the City that day, but I was too disturbed
in my mind to be able to pay attention to business matters. My
wife seemed to be as upset as myself, and I could see from the
little questioning glances which she kept shooting at me that she
understood that I disbelieved her statement, and that she was at
her wits’ end what to do. We hardly exchanged a word during
breakfast, and immediately afterwards I went out for a walk, that
I might think the matter out in the fresh morning air.
“I went as far as the Crystal Palace, spent an hour in the
grounds, and was back in Norbury by one o’clock. It happened that
my way took me past the cottage, and I stopped for an instant to
look at the windows, and to see if I could catch a glimpse of the
strange face which had looked out at me on the day before. As I
stood there, imagine my surprise, Mr. Holmes, when the door
suddenly opened and my wife walked out.
“I was struck dumb with astonishment at the sight of her; but my
emotions were nothing to those which showed themselves upon her
face when our eyes met. She seemed for an instant to wish to
shrink back inside the house again; and then, seeing how useless
all concealment must be, she came forward, with a very white face
and frightened eyes which belied the smile upon her lips.
“‘Ah, Jack,’ she said, ‘I have just been in to see if I can be of
any assistance to our new neighbours. Why do you look at me like
that, Jack? You are not angry with me?’
“‘So,’ said I, ‘this is where you went during the night.’
“‘What do you mean?’ she cried.
“‘You came here. I am sure of it. Who are these people, that you
should visit them at such an hour?’
“‘I have not been here before.’
“‘How can you tell me what you know is false?’ I cried. ‘Your
very voice changes as you speak. When have I ever had a secret
from you? I shall enter that cottage, and I shall probe the
matter to the bottom.’
“‘No, no, Jack, for God’s sake!’ she gasped, in uncontrollable
emotion. Then, as I approached the door, she seized my sleeve and
pulled me back with convulsive strength.
“‘I implore you not to do this, Jack,’ she cried. ‘I swear that I
will tell you everything some day, but nothing but misery can
come of it if you enter that cottage.’ Then, as I tried to shake
her off, she clung to me in a frenzy of entreaty.
“‘Trust me, Jack!’ she cried. ‘Trust me only this once. You will
never have cause to regret it. You know that I would not have a
secret from you if it were not for your own sake. Our whole lives
are at stake in this. If you come home with me, all will be well.
If you force your way into that cottage, all is over between us.’
“There was such earnestness, such despair, in her manner that her
words arrested me, and I stood irresolute before the door.
“‘I will trust you on one condition, and on one condition only,’
said I at last. ‘It is that this mystery comes to an end from
now. You are at liberty to preserve your secret, but you must
promise me that there shall be no more nightly visits, no more
doings which are kept from my knowledge. I am willing to forget
those which are passed if you will promise that there shall be no
more in the future.’
“‘I was sure that you would trust me,’ she cried, with a great
sigh of relief. ‘It shall be just as you wish. Come away—oh, come
away up to the house.’
“Still pulling at my sleeve, she led me away from the cottage. As
we went I glanced back, and there was that yellow livid face
watching us out of the upper window. What link could there be
between that creature and my wife? Or how could the coarse, rough
woman whom I had seen the day before be connected with her? It
was a strange puzzle, and yet I knew that my mind could never
know ease again until I had solved it.
“For two days after this I stayed at home, and my wife appeared
to abide loyally by our engagement, for, as far as I know, she
never stirred out of the house. On the third day, however, I had
ample evidence that her solemn promise was not enough to hold her
back from this secret influence which drew her away from her
husband and her duty.
“I had gone into town on that day, but I returned by the 2.40
instead of the 3.36, which is my usual train. As I entered the
house the maid ran into the hall with a startled face.
“‘Where is your mistress?’ I asked.
“‘I think that she has gone out for a walk,’ she answered.
“My mind was instantly filled with suspicion. I rushed upstairs
to make sure that she was not in the house. As I did so I
happened to glance out of one of the upper windows, and saw the
maid with whom I had just been speaking running across the field
in the direction of the cottage. Then of course I saw exactly
what it all meant. My wife had gone over there, and had asked the
servant to call her if I should return. Tingling with anger, I
rushed down and hurried across, determined to end the matter once
and forever. I saw my wife and the maid hurrying back along the
lane, but I did not stop to speak with them. In the cottage lay
the secret which was casting a shadow over my life. I vowed that,
come what might, it should be a secret no longer. I did not even
knock when I reached it, but turned the handle and rushed into
the passage.
Arthur Conan Doyle — text from Project Gutenberg (eBook #834)
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