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elapt1c
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ElapticAI-512

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allied. It was a wild night. The wind was howling outside, and the rain
was beating and splashing against the windows. Suddenly, amid all the
hubbub of the gale, there burst forth the wild scream of a terrified
woman. I knew that it was my sister’s voice. I sprang from my bed,
wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed into the corridor. As I opened my
door I seemed to hear a low whistle, such as my sister described, and a
few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass of metal had fallen.
As I ran down the passage, my sister’s door was unlocked, and revolved
slowly upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not knowing
what was about to issue from it. By the light of the corridor-lamp I
saw my sister appear at the opening, her face blanched with terror, her
hands groping for help, her whole figure swaying to and fro like that
of a drunkard. I ran to her and threw my arms round her, but at that
moment her knees seemed to give way and she fell to the ground. She
writhed as one who is in terrible pain, and her limbs were dreadfully
convulsed. At first I thought that she had not recognised me, but as I
bent over her she suddenly shrieked out in a voice which I shall never
forget, ‘Oh, my God! Helen! It was the band! The speckled band!’ There
was something else which she would fain have said, and she stabbed with
her finger into the air in the direction of the Doctor’s room, but a
fresh convulsion seized her and choked her words. I rushed out, calling
loudly for my stepfather, and I met him hastening from his room in his
dressing-gown. When he reached my sister’s side she was unconscious,
and though he poured brandy down her throat and sent for medical aid
from the village, all efforts were in vain, for she slowly sank and
died without having recovered her consciousness. Such was the dreadful
end of my beloved sister.
“One moment, said Holmes, “are you sure about this whistle and
metallic sound? Could you swear to it?
“That was what the county coroner asked me at the inquiry. It is my
strong impression that I heard it, and yet, among the crash of the gale
and the creaking of an old house, I may possibly have been deceived.
“Was your sister dressed?
“No, she was in her night-dress. In her right hand was found the
charred stump of a match, and in her left a match-box.
“Showing that she had struck a light and looked about her when the
alarm took place. That is important. And what conclusions did the
coroner come to?
“He investigated the case with great care, for Dr. Roylott’s conduct
had long been notorious in the county, but he was unable to find any
satisfactory cause of death. My evidence showed that the door had been
fastened upon the inner side, and the windows were blocked by
old-fashioned shutters with broad iron bars, which were secured every
night. The walls were carefully sounded, and were shown to be quite
solid all round, and the flooring was also thoroughly examined, with
the same result. The chimney is wide, but is barred up by four large
staples. It is certain, therefore, that my sister was quite alone when
she met her end. Besides, there were no marks of any violence upon
her.
“How about poison?
“The doctors examined her for it, but without success.
“What do you think that this unfortunate lady died of, then?
“It is my belief that she died of pure fear and nervous shock, though
what it was that frightened her I cannot imagine.
“Were there gipsies in the plantation at the time?
“Yes, there are nearly always some there.
“Ah, and what did you gather from this allusion to a band—a speckled
band?
“Sometimes I have thought that it was merely the wild talk of delirium,
sometimes that it may have referred to some band of people, perhaps to
these very gipsies in the plantation. I do not know whether the spotted
handkerchiefs which so many of them wear over their heads might have
suggested the strange adjective which she used.
Holmes shook his head like a man who is far from being satisfied.
“These are very deep waters, said he; “pray go on with your
narrative.
“Two years have passed since then, and my life has been until lately
lonelier than ever. A month ago, however, a dear friend, whom I have
known for many years, has done me the honour to ask my hand in
marriage. His name is Armitage—Percy Armitage—the second son of Mr.
Armitage, of Crane Water, near Reading. My stepfather has offered no
opposition to the match, and we are to be married in the course of the
spring. Two days ago some repairs were started in the west wing of the
building, and my bedroom wall has been pierced, so that I have had to
move into the chamber in which my sister died, and to sleep in the very
bed in which she slept. Imagine, then, my thrill of terror when last
night, as I lay awake, thinking over her terrible fate, I suddenly
heard in the silence of the night the low whistle which had been the
herald of her own death. I sprang up and lit the lamp, but nothing was
to be seen in the room. I was too shaken to go to bed again, however,
so I dressed, and as soon as it was daylight I slipped down, got a
dog-cart at the Crown Inn, which is opposite, and drove to Leatherhead,
from whence I have come on this morning with the one object of seeing