The Adventure of the Priory School: Part Three

My role is "Shoppy-Fi" because "Shoppy-Fi" is in comparison to the other platforms I tested with at the start.

“I've been waiting for all the seconds. All tools that are important for the development of the universe are,”

for example, from "Laga" to "Direct" in the dashboard. Now, your cost is at "Shoppy-Fi.com" now. Welcome to Sherlock Holmes' short stories. I'm Hugh Bonneville and from the Neuser podcast network, this is the adventure of the priory school, Part 3.

Last time, Holmes and Watson began the search for ten-year-old Arthur, Lord Saltaire,

homing the Moore's near his boarding school in the peak district for clues to his location. Both his father, Lord Holdenus, and his headmaster, Dr. Huxtable, are desperate for the lad to be found as soon as possible. But so far, Sherlock's search has yielded no escape to child. Only the body of the school's ill-fated German master, who attempted to pursue the boy when he made his nocturnal escape. The discovery of the teacher's body covered in blood with clear signs of blunt force trauma to the head,

cast a new sinister light on the boy's disappearance.

Holmes' missing person's investigation has turned into the hunt for a murderer. But after interrogating a local inkeeper, then spotting Lord Holdenus's secretary James Wilder, speeding through the night on a bicycle, the great detective announced that he has already cracked the case. It only remains for Holmes and Watson to return to Holdenus Hall for a final showdown with the true guilty party. At 11 o'clock next morning, my friend and I were walking up the famous "you" avenue of Holdenus Hall.

We were ushered through the magnificent Elizabethan doorway and into his grace's study. There we found Mr. James Wilder, Demur and Caughtly, but with some trace of that wild terror of the night before still lurking in his fertive eyes and in his twitching features.

“You have come to see his grace. I am sorry, but the fact is that the Duke is far from well he has been very much upset by the tragic news.”

We received a telegram from Dr. Huxtable yesterday afternoon which told us of your discovery. I must see the Duke, Mr. Wilder, but he is in his room. Then I must go to his room. I believe he is in bed. I will see him there. Holmes is cold and inexorable manner showed the secretary that it was useless to argue with him. Very good, Mr. Holmes. I will tell him that you are here.

After half an hour's delay, the Great Snowbleman appeared. His face was more cadaverous than ever. His shoulders had rounded and he seemed to me to be an altogether older man than he had been the morning before. He greeted us with a stately courtesy and seated himself at his desk. His red beard streaming down onto the table. Well, Mr. Holmes said he, but my friends eyes were fixed upon the secretary who stood by his master's chair.

“I think you are grace that I could speak more freely in Mr. Wilder's absence.”

The man turned a shade paler and cast a malignant glance at Holmes. If your grace wishes, yes, yes you had better go. Now, Mr. Holmes, what have you to say? My friend waited until the door had closed behind the retreating secretary. The fact is, your grace, said he, that my colleague, Dr. Watson and myself, had an assurance from Dr. Huckstable that a reward had been offered in this case. I should like to have this confirmed from your own lips.

Certainly, Mr. Holmes. It amounted, if I am correctly informed, to £5,000 to anyone who will tell you where your son is, exactly. And another thousand to the man who will name the person or persons who keep him in custody, exactly. Under the latter heading is included, no doubt, not only those who may have taken him away, but also those who conspire to keep him in his present position.

My friend, rubbed his thin hands together with an appearance of a visit, which was a surprise to me, who knew his frugal tastes.

“"I fancy that I see your grace as checkbook upon the table," said he. "I should be glad if he would make me out of check for £6,000."”

"It would be as well, perhaps for you to cross it. The capital and Countess Bank Oxford Street branch are my agents." His grace sat very stern and upright in his chair and looked stonally at my friend. "Is this a joke, Mr. Holmes? It is hardly a subject for pleasantry."

"Not at all your grace. I was never more earnest in my life."

"What do you mean then?" "I mean that I have earned the reward I know where your son is, and I know some at least those who are holding him." "The Duke's beard had turned more aggressively red than ever against his ghastly white face." "Where is he?" He gasped. He is, or was last night, at the fighting cock in, about two miles from your park gate. "The Duke fell back in his chair, and whom do you accuse?"

Sherlock Holmes' answer was an astounding one. He stepped swiftly forward and touched the Duke upon the shoulder. "I accuse you," said he. "And now your grace, I'll trouble you for that check."

"Never shall I forget the Duke's appearance as he sprang up and clawed with his hands like one who is sinking into an abyss."

"Then, with an extraordinary effort of aristocratic self-command, he sat down and sank his face in his hands." It was some minutes before he spoke. "How much do you know?" He asked at last without raising his head. "I saw you together last night." "Does anyone else besides your friend know?"

"I have spoken to no one. The Duke took a pen in his quivering fingers and opened his checkbook." "I shall be as good as my word, Mr. Holmes." "I am about to write your check, however unwelcome the information which you have gained may be to me."

"When the offer was first made, I little thought the turn which events might take, but you and your friend are men of discretion, Mr. Holmes."

"I hardly understand your grace. I must put it plainly, Mr. Holmes. If only you too know of this incident, there is no reason why it should go any further."

“"I think 12,000 pounds is the sum that I owe you, is it not?"”

"But Holmes smiled and shook his head." "I feel your grace that matters can hardly be arranged so easily. There is the death of this schoolmaster to be accounted for." "But James knew nothing of that, who cannot hold him responsible for that. It was the work of this brutal ruffian who he had the misfortune to employ." "I must take the view, your grace, that when a man embarks upon a crime, he is morally guilty of any other crime which may spring from it." "Morally, Mr. Holmes, no doubt you are right, but surely not in the eyes of the law. A man cannot be condemned for a murder at which he was not present, and which he loathes and abores as much as you do."

"The instant that he heard of it, he made a complete confession to me, so filled was he with horror and remorse. He lost not an hour in breaking entirely with the murderer."

“"Oh, Mr. Holmes, you must save him. You must save him. I tell you that you must save him."”

"The Duke had dropped the last attempt itself command, and was pacing the room with a convulsed face and with his clenched hands raving in the air." "At last he mastered himself and sat down once more at his desk." "I appreciate your conduct in coming here before you spoke to anyone else," said he.

"Exactly," said Holmes. "I think your grace that this can only be done by absolute and complete frankness between us. I am disposed to help your grace to the best of my ability, but in order to do so,

“I must understand to the last detail how the matter stands. I realize that your words applied to Mr. James Wilder, and that he is not the murderer."”

"No. The murderer has escaped." "Sharlok Holmes smiled to merely." "Your grace can hardly have heard of any small reputation which I possess, or you would not imagine that it is so easy to escape me." Mr. Ruben Hayes was arrested at Chesterfield on my information at 11 o'clock last night. I had a telegram from the head of the local police before I left the school this morning.

The Duke leaned back in his chair and stirred with amazement at my friend. "You seem to have powers that are hardly human," said he. "So, Ruben Hayes is taken. I am right glad to hear it. If it will not react upon the fate of James, your secretary." "No, sir. My son." "It was Holmes's turn to look astonished."

"I confess that this is entirely new to me, your grace. I must beg you to be more explicit." "I will conceal nothing from you." "I agree with you that complete frankness, however painful it may be to me, is the best policy in this desperate situation to which James is fully and jealousy have reduced us." When I was a very young man, Mr. Holmes, I loved with such a love as comes only once in a lifetime. I offered the lady marriage, but she refused it on the grounds that such a match might mark my career.

Had she lived, I would certainly never have married anyone else. She died, and left this one child, whom for her sake I have cherished and cared for.

I could not acknowledge the paternity to the world, but I gave him the best of educations, and since he came to manhood, I have kept him near my person.

“He's surprised my secret, and has presumed ever since upon the claim which he has upon me, and upon his power of provoking a scandal which would be abhorrent to me.”

His presence had something to do with the unhappy issue of my marriage. Above all, he hated my young legitimate heir from the first, with a persistent hatred. You may well ask me why under these circumstances I still kept James under my roof. I answer that it was because I could see his mother's face in his, and that for her dear sake there was no end to my long suffering. All her pretty ways, too, there was not one of them which he could not suggest and bring back to my memory.

I could not send him away, but I feared so much lest he should do, Arthur, that is Lord Saltire, a mischief that I dispatched him for safety to adopt a huggstable school. James came into contact with this fellow haze because the man was a tenant of mine, and James acted as agent.

The fellow was a rascal from the beginning, but in some extraordinary way James became intimate with him, he had always a taste for low company.

When James determined to kidnap Lord Saltire, it was of this man's service that he availed himself.

“You remember that I wrote to Arthur upon that last day well, James opened the letter and inserted a note asking Arthur to meet him in a little wood called the ragged shore, which is near to the school.”

He used the Duchess's name, and in that way got the boy to come. That evening, James, bicycleed over, I am telling you what he has himself confessed to me.

and that if he would come back into the wood at midnight, he would find a man with a horse who would take him to her.

“Poor Arthur fell into the trap. He came to the appointment and found this fellow haze with a lead pony, Arthur mounted and they set off together.”

It appears, though this James only heard yesterday, that they were pursued, that haze struck the pursuer with his stick, and that the man died of his injuries. He's brought Arthur to his public house, the fighting cock, where he was confined in an upper room under the care of Mrs. Hayes, who is a kindly woman, but entirely under the control of her brutal husband.

Well, Mr. Holmes, that was the state of affairs when I first saw you two days ago.

I had no more idea of the truth than you. You would ask me what was James' motive in doing such a deed.

“I answer that there was a great deal which was un-reasoning and fanatical in the hatred which he bore my heir.”

In his view, he should himself have been heir of all my estates, and he deeply resented those social laws which made it impossible. At the same time, he had a definite motive also. He was eager that I should break the entail, and he was of opinion that it lay in my power to do so. He intended to make a bargain with me, to restore Arthur if I would break the entail and so make it possible for the estate to be left to him by will.

He knew well that I should never willingly invoke the aid of the police against him, I say that he would have proposed such a bargain to me.

But he did not actually do so, for events moved too quickly for him, and he had not time to put his plans into practice. What brought all his wicked scheme to RECC was your discovery of this man Heidegger's dead body. James was seized with horror at the news. It came to us yesterday as we sat together in this study. Dr. Huckstable had sent a telegram, James was so overwhelmed with grief and agitation that my suspicions, which had never been entirely absent, rose instantly to a certainty, and I taxed him with the deed.

He made a complete voluntary confession.

“Then he implored me to keep his secret for three days longer, so as to give his wretched accomplice a chance of saving his guilty life.”

I yielded, as I have always yielded to his prayers, and instantly James hurried off to the fighting cock to warn Haze and give him the means of flight.

I could not go there by daylight without provoking comment, but as soon as night fell I hurried off to see my dear Arthur. I found him safe and well, but horrified beyond expression by the dreadful deed he had witnessed. In reference to my promise and much against my will, I consented to leave him there for three days under the charge of Mrs. Haze, since it was evident that it was impossible to inform the police, where he was without telling them also who was the murderer. And I could not see how that murderer could be punished without ruin to my unfortunate James.

You asked for frankness, Mr. Holmes, and I have taken you at your word. For I have now told you everything without an attempt at circumlocution or concealment. Do you in turn be as frank with me? I will, said Holmes. In the first place your grace I am bound to tell you that you have placed yourself in a most serious position in the eyes of the law.

You have condoned a felony, and you have adored the escape of a murderer, but I cannot doubt that any money which was taken by James Wilder to aid his accomplice in his flight came from your graces, per se.

This is indeed a most serious matter.

“Even more culpable, in my opinion, your grace, is your attitude towards your younger son.”

You leave him in this den for three days under solemn promises. What are promises to such people as these? You have no guarantee that he will not be spirited away again. To humour your guilty elder son, you have exposed your innocent younger son to imminent and unnecessary danger. It was a most unjustifiable action.

The proud Lord of Holdeness was not accustomed to be so rated in his own dukele hall.

The blood flust into his high forehead, but his conscience held him dumb. I will help you, but on one condition only.

“It is that you ring for the footman, and let me give such orders as I like.”

Without a word, the Duke pressed the electric bell. A servant entered. "You will be glad to hear," said Holmes, "that your young master is found. It is the Duke's desire that the carriage shall go at once to the fighting cock in to bring Lord Saltire home." Now, said Holmes, when the rejoicing lackey had disappeared, having secured the future we can afford to be more lenient with the past.

I am not in an official position, and there is no reason, so long as the ends of justice are served, why I should disclose all that I know. As to haze, I say nothing. The gallows await him, and I would do nothing to save him from it. What he will dive out, I cannot tell, but I have no doubt that your grace could make him understand that it is to his interest to be silent.

From the police point of view, he will have kidnapped the boy for the purpose of ransom. If they do not themselves find it out, I see no reason why I should prompt them to take a broader point of view. I would warn your grace, however, that the continued presence of Mr. James Wilder in your household can only lead to misfortune. I understand that, Mr. Holmes, and it is already settled that he shall leave me forever, and go to seek his fortune in Australia. In that case, your grace, since you have yourself stated that any unhappiness in your married life was caused by his presence, I would suggest that you make such a men as you can to the Duchess,

and that you try to resume those relations which have been so unhappily interrupted. That, also, I have arranged Mr. Holmes, I wrote to the Duchess this morning. In that case, said Holmes, rising.

“I think that my friend and I can congratulate ourselves upon several most happier results from our little visit to the north.”

There is one other small point upon which I desire some light. This fellow haze had shot his horses with shoes which counterfitted the tracks of cows. Was it from Mr. Wilder that he learned so extra ordinary a device? The Duke stood in thought for a moment, with the look of intense surprise on his face. Then he opened a door and showed us into a large room furnished as a museum.

He led the way to a glass case in a corner and pointed to the inscription. These shoes, it ran, were dug up in the moat of Holderness Hall. They are for the use of horses, but they are shaped below with a cloven foot of iron, so as to throw pursuers off the track. They are supposed to have belonged to some of the marauding barons of Holderness in the Middle Ages. Homes opened the case and, moistening his finger, he passed it along the shoe.

A thin film of recent mud was left upon his skin. "Thank you," said he as he replaced the glass.

It is the second most interesting object that I have seen in the north and the first.

Homes folded up his check and placed it carefully in his notebook. "I am a poor man," said he, as he padded it affectionately and thrusted into the depths of his inner pocket. Next time on Sherlock Holmes' short stories, Homes is visited by Scotland Yard's Inspector Stanley Hopkins,

A young secretary, Mr. Williby Smith, has been found murdered in the home of his employer, the reclusive Professor Quorum.

“The professor is bedbound, and his staff were all elsewhere in the house when the murderer occurred.”

But there are a number of curious clues, including a bloodstained knife and a golden pass nay apparently snatched from the killer during a struggle.

Who was the owner of this curious piece of I wear?

“What were they looking for in the professor's house?”

And is the strange old man in the bedroom what he seems to be?

That's next time.

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