to remember asking you the same question, and you have not yet done me the honour to reply. However, I have no objection to explaining my activities. If you possessed an ounce of deductive ability you would be able to work it out for yourself, especially bearing in mind that I gave you a specific caution about Miss D'Arcy only last night.
'I am a young man of the name of Douglas, looking for respectable employment. I have heard that a vacancy will soon exist in Miss D'Arcy's household, due to the impending departure of her footman, Mr John Chapman, to the vicinity of his ailing mother, as you may recall.
'I decide to call on him, to sound him out about the household, and to ask whether he can put in a good word for me. I find him most friendly and amenable; we spend a good half-hour or so chatting at the tradesman's entrance. It is a quiet day, he says, and the housemaid will see to any callers.
'It's a rather queer household in some ways, he says, but the two ladies are generous employers and the duties are reasonable. I ask him what the duties consist of. He trots out the usual list, during which time I have ample opportunity to notice your arrival--not to worry, he says, the housemaid will see to you. Are there any extra or unusual duties, I ask? Well, the ladies sometimes keep unsocial hours, he says, and he and the other man have often to sit up late. Anything else? Only the mail; Miss D'Arcy sometimes has letters left for her at Dulwich Post Office and he has to collect them. Yes, it is a bit of a way out, and goodness knows she can be very secretive when she has a mind to be. He doesn't believe even Miss Kirkpatrick knows of it. Still, it's not his place, etc., and he'd advise me to take the same attitude.
'Now it's about time he got back to his duties. He'll put in a good word for me if I like, but it's not really the right time at the moment, one of the ladies has been called away from home unexpectedly, some family trouble he thinks, and it would be best to wait until things are back to normal. In any case, the ladies will probably require a written reference. That's all right, I say, I will present myself in writing, references enclosed. Will it be all right for me to mention that I have talked to him, etc.? Oh yes, of course.
'And so I come back to Baker Street, since I do not want to take the risk of hanging about the house untiljyow emerge, and I despatch a telegram. Now, I trust I have made the situation sufficiently clear? Perhaps you would now care to favour me with an account of your morning.'
This whole narrative was delivered in clipped, sarcastic tones, and with the last sentence he almost spat at me. Crushed as I was, however, a small glow-worm of inspiration had begun to creep into the back of my mind. Was the situation clear? Yes, it had been clear to me before I entered the room. Holmes' narrative had not quite carried the shock value he had anticipated for me. How had I spent my morning? Why, when all was said and done, it had surely been no less successful than his.
I rose from my chair, and Holmes stood back to let me pass. I strolled casually across to the window.
'My morning? Why, I believe that my morning was almost as interesting as yours, my dear Holmes. As you so rightly observed, I also visited Camberwell Grove, but unlike yourself, I was not incognito. However, I did have the opportunity to make one or two observations, and I must say that I think you underestimate my deductive ability. Miss D'Arcy had inadvertently left some correspondence upon a side-table, and I was able to observe that her printing matches exactly that in the threatening letters to Lord Carstairs. I had only just time to make the observation when your telegram arrived. Extraordinary, is it not, that we should both have come to the same conclusion, and neither confided in the other?'
There was a long and ominous silence behind me. I continued to stare fixedly out of the window, not daring to turn round. A
'I am a young man of the name of Douglas, looking for respectable employment. I have heard that a vacancy will soon exist in Miss D'Arcy's household, due to the impending departure of her footman, Mr John Chapman, to the vicinity of his ailing mother, as you may recall.
'I decide to call on him, to sound him out about the household, and to ask whether he can put in a good word for me. I find him most friendly and amenable; we spend a good half-hour or so chatting at the tradesman's entrance. It is a quiet day, he says, and the housemaid will see to any callers.
'It's a rather queer household in some ways, he says, but the two ladies are generous employers and the duties are reasonable. I ask him what the duties consist of. He trots out the usual list, during which time I have ample opportunity to notice your arrival--not to worry, he says, the housemaid will see to you. Are there any extra or unusual duties, I ask? Well, the ladies sometimes keep unsocial hours, he says, and he and the other man have often to sit up late. Anything else? Only the mail; Miss D'Arcy sometimes has letters left for her at Dulwich Post Office and he has to collect them. Yes, it is a bit of a way out, and goodness knows she can be very secretive when she has a mind to be. He doesn't believe even Miss Kirkpatrick knows of it. Still, it's not his place, etc., and he'd advise me to take the same attitude.
'Now it's about time he got back to his duties. He'll put in a good word for me if I like, but it's not really the right time at the moment, one of the ladies has been called away from home unexpectedly, some family trouble he thinks, and it would be best to wait until things are back to normal. In any case, the ladies will probably require a written reference. That's all right, I say, I will present myself in writing, references enclosed. Will it be all right for me to mention that I have talked to him, etc.? Oh yes, of course.
'And so I come back to Baker Street, since I do not want to take the risk of hanging about the house untiljyow emerge, and I despatch a telegram. Now, I trust I have made the situation sufficiently clear? Perhaps you would now care to favour me with an account of your morning.'
This whole narrative was delivered in clipped, sarcastic tones, and with the last sentence he almost spat at me. Crushed as I was, however, a small glow-worm of inspiration had begun to creep into the back of my mind. Was the situation clear? Yes, it had been clear to me before I entered the room. Holmes' narrative had not quite carried the shock value he had anticipated for me. How had I spent my morning? Why, when all was said and done, it had surely been no less successful than his.
I rose from my chair, and Holmes stood back to let me pass. I strolled casually across to the window.
'My morning? Why, I believe that my morning was almost as interesting as yours, my dear Holmes. As you so rightly observed, I also visited Camberwell Grove, but unlike yourself, I was not incognito. However, I did have the opportunity to make one or two observations, and I must say that I think you underestimate my deductive ability. Miss D'Arcy had inadvertently left some correspondence upon a side-table, and I was able to observe that her printing matches exactly that in the threatening letters to Lord Carstairs. I had only just time to make the observation when your telegram arrived. Extraordinary, is it not, that we should both have come to the same conclusion, and neither confided in the other?'
There was a long and ominous silence behind me. I continued to stare fixedly out of the window, not daring to turn round. A
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