"I fancy the young lady could do, with some tea, Mrs. Johnson," said Pons, looking at our visitor sympathetically and ushering her over to a comfortable chair.
"I will see about it at once, Mr. Pons," said our landlady, bustling out.
"It was good of you to see me, Mr. Pons," said the young lady in a low, cultured voice, sitting down and taking off her long, white gloves., She was plainly but well-dressed in a high-busted suit, fashionably cut of some light material appropriate to the weather, and she appeared more at ease by the minute.
"From your letter it seemed that your problem was so grave, it could brook no delay," said Solar Pons. "Miss Stuart, this is my very good friend and colleague, Dr. Lyndon Parker. Miss Elizabeth Stuart of Grassington, Parker."
I came forward to shake the young lady's hand. We waited a few minutes, Pons talking of trivial matters, obviously to put the girl at ease. When Mrs. Johnson had brought the tea things and withdrawn, Pons passed a cup to our client and seated himself in his favorite chair. His deep-set eyes never left her face.
"For the benefit of Dr. Parker, Miss Stuart, it might be as well to recapitulate the contents of your letter. I shall need a great many more details before being able to come
to any definite conclusions, but it would appear to be a problem that presents unusual points of interest."
Miss Stuart sipped her tea, a frown furrowing the smoothness of her brow.
"It is rather more than that, Mr. Pons," she said.
Solar Pons smiled wryly, tenting his lean fingers before him.
"Pray take no offense, Miss Stuart. I speak purely from the viewpoint of the private consulting detective. It is obvious that you have been through a good deal."
"Indeed, Miss Stuart," I added. "You have our sympathy."
The girl smiled shyly. The shadows seemed to lift from her face.
"I am sure of that, Dr. Parker. Oh, gentlemen, if only you knew how I have suffered these past months."
"Pray tell us about it in your own words," Solar Pons invited.
He leaned back in the chair, the sunlight at the window turning his alert, aquiline features to bronze.
"Well, gentlemen," the girl began hesitantly, "as I indicated in my letter, I live in a small village near Haslemere in Surrey, where my father was Rector."
"Was, Miss Stuart?"
The girl nodded, the sadness returning to her face.
"Father died suddenly, under tragic circumstances, about two years ago. Fortunately, the house in which we live belonged to my parents and was not part of the living or I do not know what Mother and I would have done. Father had small means and had contributed to a pension fund and we have contrived to manage, with my teaching work."
"I am glad to hear that, Miss Stuart," I commented. "It is very often difficult when the head of the family dies under such circumstances."
"What were the circumstances?" interjected Solar Pons crisply.
The girl looked momentarily startled.
"I do not quite understand, Mr. Pons."
"Of your father's death, Miss Stuart."
"There was a crash one evening, during the wintertime.
Mother ran in. Father was in the study, consulting some old books. He was lying near the bookcase, quite dead by the time Mother got to him, a Bible open at his feet. She swore he had been frightened by something, there was such a look of terror on his face."
"I see."
Solar Pons' face was somber as he stared at the girl. "What was the medical opinion?"
"Our family doctor said it was a heart attack, Mr. Pons. Such an expression was common in angina cases, he said."
"That is perfectly true," I interposed. "Though I can imagine your mother's distress."
"It was a difficult time, Dr. Parker," the girl said quietly. "But it was not of that I wished to speak. You have my letter there, Mr. Pons?"
"Indeed," said my companion, producing a pale blue envelope from his inside pocket and opening it. "You speak here of terrifying, inexplicable events which have afflicted you and your mother. Pray tell us about them."
"They began back in the winter," the girl continued. "On a dark day of wind and driving rain. Our house, though a pleasant Georgian edifice, is quite near to the churchyard and from some windows, particularly the study, looks out on a somber view of ancient trees and tombstones with the church beyond."
She paused as though the recollection of something too deep for words had disturbed her. I took the opportunity of rising in the brief interval to pour her another cup of tea. Miss Stuart sipped gratefully for a few moments before resuming.
"I had heard a tapping sound some while before but had thought little of it, because of the noise of the wind. Mother was lying down upstairs before dinner. Hannah, our housekeeper, was in the kitchen. It was a little after dusk and I had been reading by the fire in the parlor. I suddenly heard a loud cracking noise. It was somehow connected with the tapping sounds and appeared to come from my father's study.
"I ran in, conscious of wind and flapping curtains. A great shadow seemed to sweep across the room. I put on the electric light and was startled to see that the French window was open and banging in the wind. I secured it and drew the curtains. It was only then that I became aware that some books, tumbled possibly by the wind, were lying on the carpet. I replaced them on the shelves and tidied up."
Solar Pons had sat intent during this recital, his eyes never leaving Miss Stuart's face.
"You saw no one, Miss Stuart?"
The girl shook her head.
"Not on this occasion, Mr. Pons. But from the latter incidents, it now seems evident that someone had slipped the catch of the study window. I thought at the time that it had been left unsecured."
"I see. Pray continue."
"Well, Mr. Pons, I thought little of the incident at the time. Two days passed and again I was ready in the parlor. It had been dark for an hour or so and I had reached the end of my book and decided to seek another from the library in the study. As I neared the door, however, I heard the same tapping as on the previous occasion. I refrained from switching on the light and walked into the room. Then there was a scratching noise from the direction of the window.
"It had a thick curtain over it, Mr. Pons. I walked across and pulled back the curtain. There was just enough light for me to see a hideous hand pressed against the glass. It was something I shall never forget, Mr. Pons. This misshapen hand with a white scar on the thumb, furtively trying to force the window in the night."
There was an awkward silence as our client broke off. Solar Pons leaned forward in his chair, a sympathetic expression on his face.
"You have obviously been through a great deal, Miss Stuart. Such an experience would have been enough to unnerve anyone. You summoned the police, of course"
The girl nodded.
"Naturally, Mr. Pons. The cry I made obviously startled the man trying to break into the house because the hand was immediately withdrawn. Our local police sergeant was soon around and he and a constable searched the grounds and churchyard but nothing was found."
"There was no footprint or trace outside the window?" Miss Stuart shook her head.
"There is a flagged terrace outside the French windows, Mr. Pons, which would have retained no imprint. Both my mother and I were upset and shaken by the occurrence and I then remembered the earlier incident. The sergeant felt it might have been a passing vagrant, though he gave me the impression he thought me merely a fanciful woman. When you see the house, Mr. Pons, as I hope you will, you will realize it is rather gloomy."