Our hostess drew herself up, tiny spots of red burning her cheeks.
"I know how it must look, Mr. Pons, but there was great justification for what John Grimstone did."
She looked across the room as though for silent corroboration from the man who had used the name, Knight. He stirred himself and stared at us with somber eyes.
"It is an old story, Mr. Pons, and goes back many years but I want you to know the truth. My father was a good man; he built the family firm, though there was always bad blood between the brothers. Silas was a dreadful, miserly man even when younger. My mother told me a great deal about the situation as I grew older. As I have said, I was only a child when the events I am referring to occurred. My family was well-off and we lived at Grimstone Manor in some style. Ail that was soon to change. My father told my mother a good deal about his suspicions but she was never able to prove anything.
"To bring a long story to a speedy end, Mr. Pons, my father simply disappeared one day. He was out on the marsh and never returned. Neither was his body recovered. A man resembling Silas Grimstone was seen at the nearest railway station, but my uncle maintained that he was in London all that day. He told us that my father had to go to Australia on business suddenly. The idea was ridiculous, particularly as he and mother were very close. Strange that he would go off like that without discussing it beforehand. In any case he had taken neither clothing nor luggage. It is my firm belief that Silas Grimstone waylaid my father on a lonely path in the marsh, attacked him from behind, perhaps with a heavy stone as a weapon, and then threw him into the quicksand."
The young man paused and stared at us with a haggard face.
"But a strange thing happened. A letter eventually came from Australia. It is my belief it was a forgery, committed at Grimstone's instructions. It was from a hotel in Adelaide and said father had to go out there on business for the firm. We were not to worry — and that he would return eventually. My mother showed the letter to a number of friends, but the forgery had been skillfully done and everyone said it was father's hand. Grimstone then started a rumor that the firm's affairs were in disorder and that father had fled to avoid being compromised in unscrupulous conduct.
"The final bombshell was a will, drawn up in Silas Grim-stone's favor and apparently signed by my father. It left the house and the business to his brother. Of course, my mother fought the matter in the courts, but after some years the decision went against us. She was penniless and had to give up the house. Eventually she scraped some money together and we sailed to a new life in Australia. But mother was broken in mind and body and she herself hardly knew what to believe. She had some hope that we would be reunited with father in Adelaide but of course there was no such hotel as that in the letter and we never did find him. She had told me of her suspicions as I grew older, and I progressed to manhood with a burning desire for revenge. Mother died a few months ago and I felt free to return, the remainder of the family being settled, and myself a bachelor. I heard that Silas Grimstone still lived, made my way to Kent and perfected my plan. It seemed perfectly justified to me. I modeled the phosphorescent hood on an old photograph of my father's features. I met Miss Grimstone on the marsh from time to time. She recognized the family likeness and I confided in her."
There was a long and deep silence, broken only by Pons knocking out his pipe in the fireplace.
"What have you to say to that. Miss Grimstone?"
"It is true, Mr. Pons. My uncle, by his manner and furtive behavior over the years regarding his brother had aroused my suspicions. He was pathologically frightened of anything to do with the marsh, though paradoxically, he felt compelled to go out at night on occasion."
"Perhaps he wished to make sure that the body of this young man's father remained undisturbed in its burial place on the marsh," suggested Solar Pons somberly.
Miss Grimstone shuddered and her face changed color.
"Perhaps, Mr. Pons. But with this background, rightly or wrongly, my sympathies were with John Grimstone, once I had heard his story. I have suffered a good deal under my uncle's regime here all these years. I am afraid I am not at all sorry at how it has turned out. But I must make it clear I did not know anything of the apparition or exactly what John Grimstone intended."
"I did not say I condemned either of you," said Solar Pons quickly. "And Silas Grimstone would certainly have killed young Mr. Grimstone here had not the marsh claimed the old rascal at an opportune moment."
"I helped John Grimstone to his revenge," said Miss Grimstone slowly and deliberately. "I informed him of the old man's movements and when he might be going out. We hoped for a full confession."
"You need say no more," said Solar Pons. "I think we might leave it there."
Both Miss Grimstone and the young man turned surprised faces toward my companion.
John Grimstone cleared his throat.
"I am not quite sure I understand you, Mr. Pons."
"I am not a moral judge, Mr. Grimstone," said Solar Pons. "I think we will leave the dead to bury the dead. I am convinced of the truth of your story and that rough justice has been done."
Miss Grimstone let out her breath in a long sigh.
"You are a good man, Mr. Pons."
Solar Pons chuckled.
"Let us just say, Miss Grimstone, that little would be served by further scandal. We will inform the police when they arrive that Silas Grimstone has disappeared on the marsh. There will be a search but nothing will be found. It will be a nine-day wonder and nothing more."
There was silence for a moment and then Miss Grimstone gave Solar Pons her hand.
"I will myself settle your fee, Mr. Pons."
There was an awkward silence.
"It was providence, Mr. Pons. This young man has been robbed of his patrimony. We cannot recompense him for the death of his father or the injustices he has suffered. But I feel free, as Silas Grimstone's beneficiary, to offer him his rightful half-share in the company and a place here at the manor with me. On my death the property and the business would revert to him, as I have no other kin."
"Justice, indeed, Parker," said Solar Pons softly. "Providence moves in mysterious ways."
And he said no more on the subject.
The Adventure of the Anguished Actor
1
"You cannot mean it, Pons!"
"I was never more serious in my life, Parker."
Solar Pons looked at me with tightly compressed lips. We were sitting by ourselves in a first-class railway carriage passing through the rolling countryside beyond Dorking. It was a cold winter's day and frost sparkled in the tangled grass of the fields, yielding diamonds in the hard light of the pale, wintry sun.
"Elijah Hardcastle is in mortal danger, unless I seriously miss my guess."
"Not the famous actor?"
Pons nodded, blowing out plumes of fragrant blue smoke from his pipe. He looked moodily at the landscape noiselessly passing the window, the telegraph wires making a jerky background pattern to our conversation.
"What do you make of that?"
He handed me the crumpled telegram form. The message was succinct and baffling.
THE FOURTH PARCEL HAS COME.
IMPLORE YOUR PRESENCE HERE IMMEDIATELY.