4 To Stoke Moran

Chapter 4 To Stoke Moran At Waterloo, we caught a train to Leatherhead, where we hired a trap at the station inn. The drive through the quiet Surrey lanes was very pleasant. It was a perfect spring day, with a bright sun and a few fleecy clouds in the sky. New leaves were appearing on the trees and hedges, and the air smelled of moist earth. It was easy to forget, at least for a while, the sinister quest upon which we were engaged.

My companion sat at the front of the trap, arms folded and hat pulled down over his eyes, sunk in the deepest thought. Suddenly, he glanced up. "Look there!" he said. He was pointing toward a gently sloping hill dotted with trees. At the top, appearing above the tree branches, was the roof of an old mansion. "Is that Stoke Moran?" he asked. "Yes, sir," answered the driver. "This road takes us to the village, but if you want the house, it would be quicker to get out here. Climb over that stile and take the footpath through the fields where that lady is walking." "The lady, I believe, is Miss Stoner," said Holmes, shading his eyes to see better. "Yes, Driver, we'll do as you suggest." We got off the trap, paid the fare, and climbed over the stile into the field. Miss Stoner, spotting us, hurried over.

"I've been waiting so eagerly for you!" she cried, shaking hands with us warmly. "All has turned out extremely well. My stepfather has gone to town and is unlikely to be back before evening." "We had the pleasure of meeting the good doctor ourselves," said Holmes, and he briefly explained what had happened. Miss Stoner turned pale with fear. "Oh dear!" she shuddered. "He followed me then." "So it appears."

"He is so cunning, that man. I don't think I will ever be safe from him. What will he do when he returns?" "He'll need to take care, because there's someone even more cunning on his trail," said Holmes. "You must lock yourself in your room tonight, madam. If he's violent, we'll take you to your aunt in Harrow. Now, let's make good use of the time we have. Please show us to the rooms we need to examine." Stoke Moran was an old stone house with a large central section and two curving wings stretching out on either side like the claws of a crab. Most of it was in a state of disrepair, but the right-hand wing was in good repair with blinds in the windows and smoke curling from its chimneys. This was where the family lived.

Holmes paced the lawn, examining this part of the house. "This, I take it, is your room," he said. "The central one belonged to your sister, and the one next to the main building is Dr. Roylott's." "Exactly so," said Miss Stoner. "But I'm now sleeping in the middle one while they repair the end wall." Holmes studied the scaffolding on the end wall. "I see nothing in particular that needs repairing here. One might almost think it was an excuse to move you to your present room." He turned to Miss Stoner. "Madam, would you please go into your room and close and bolt your shutters." She did so, and Holmes tried everything to force them open. There was no slit his knife could penetrate to raise the lock. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "No one could get through these shutters if they were bolted." The first place we examined inside the house was the central bedroom where Miss Stoner was now sleeping. It was a homely little room with a low ceiling and simple furnishings. Holmes took out his magnifying glass and kneeled down to

study the cracks between the floorboards. He checked the wooden panels on the walls with equal care. Finally, he went over to the bed. "What's that bell for?" he asked, pointing to a thick bell rope that hung down almost to the pillow. "It's to call the housekeeper," replied Miss Stoner. "It looks fairly new." "Yes, it was put in a couple of years ago." "Your sister asked for it?" "No. In fact, I don't ever remember her using it. We always got what we wanted for ourselves." Holmes took hold of the bell rope and gave it a brisk tug. "Why, it's a dummy," he said.