My Dear Holmes, today I walked 14 miles across rough terrain
and hardly a twinge from either my leg or my shoulder.
The landscape is as handsome as it is reported.
I still entertain the hope that I can prevail upon you to join me.
I appreciate, of course that the beauties of nature mean little to you,
but I believe you would have found some of the guests at my hotel most intriguing.
Moral splendor is on display in the person of the striking Major Schlessinger,
a hero of the Boer War,
sadly crippled in the defense of Ladysmith and now engaged in charitable work.
His nurse is a Miss Calder whose attentiveness suggests not only
that she is his disciple but also that tenderer feelings may be involved.
Most fascinating of all, however, is an extraordinary woman,
one who would stand out in any society,
the Lady Frances Carfax.
I suppose one would call her modern
except that she seems to come from an ancient line of English eccentrics.
Yesterday, as if to confirm the general opinion of her oddity,
she declared that she would sail herself to church across the lake.
There was much speculation in the hotel carriage
as we traveled towards the charming little lakeside chapel
about whether Lady Frances would be as good as her word.
And those of us foolish enough to doubt her were soon rebuked
by the sight of a skiff moored in the shallows
and by the stern gaze of its captain when she greeted us within.
A surprisingly jolly sermon, Vicar, I laughed like a cat.
Well, she appears to care not a jot what her fellow guests make of her
and seems quite insensible to the vivid impression
she creates wherever she goes.
We were all amused, certainly, at the sight of her trying to board the skiff,
but since she had accomplished the outward journey with such skill,
we had no reason to suppose that her return voyage
would present her with any greater difficulty,
or that it would end in the way that it did.
I had decided to walk back across the fill
so I was not amongst those who waited
to cheer Lady Frances on her return.
I arrived a little later
at exactly the moment when tragedy threatened to strike.
Help!
Help, here!
Help!
I was helpless, my dear Holmes, helpless.
I have never felt so powerless in my life,
as powerless, so I thought, as the old soldier in his wheelchair
who had only been able to shout, it seemed, for help.
As with many men, I have noticed a weakness in one part of the body
is compensated by great strength elsewhere.
Unable to walk,
Schlessinger was yet able to swim powerfully with his arms alone.
Reinforcements arrived in due course from the hotel,
and tragedy was happily averted.
Now, all parties are recovered,
it is reported that the Lady Frances is resentful of her rescue
as if her suffragette principles had been somehow compromised.
All agree at any rate that Major Schlessinger is the hero of the hour.
Miss Calder's attentions are now translated into patent adoration.
No doubt further praise will be in order
when he lectures on his missionary activities at the hotel tomorrow.
He is, by the way, the British representative of
the Mission Church of Christ the Healer
whose theater works in the high Andes of Peru.
Morning.
Major Schlessinger is avoiding me.
The poor man is embarrassed by his own heroism.
Perhaps he now thinks I'm obliged to contribute to his work.
Men have such extraordinary weaknesses.
Don't you think?
Oh, yes, certainly, we do, of course, I agree.
Would you care to take a turn by the lake, Doctor?
Major Schlessinger works tirelessly for his church, does he not?
I understand the need for funds is considerable.
He's lecturing on his cause tomorrow here in the hotel
hoping to raise some money.
He'll do well.
The local matronage will happily part with half a guinea each
for the company of such a man albeit in public.
Do I shock you?
Not at all.
I shock my brother.
As the Earl of Rufton, I think he feels it is his duty to be shocked.
Oh, it's very beautiful here, isn't it?
I spent every summer of my childhood here by this lake.
It's very beautiful.
It is indeed.
He's to visit me tomorrow.
Who?
My brother.
That is duty, too, of course.
Damn him.
Damn him!
Ah, Lady Frances!
What a pleasant surprise!
I must confess that her behaviour continues to fascinate me.
I grant that her reaction to this unknown horseman was extreme,
but many of her reactions are.
Had she known him, I wonder?
What lies in her past to prompt this fear of him?
In looking for an explanation,
I am placing some hopes in the visit we expect this afternoon
from her brother, the Earl of Rufton.
By all accounts, his oddities are of an entirely different order
from those of his sister.
Where she flouts convention,
he has raised the conventions of a former era to the status of a faith.
As for myself, I notice an increasing indifference
to the natural beauty which lies about me.
My thoughts return constantly to the Lady Frances.
There is something about her life which prompts my sympathy, some-
unhappiness I can sense which I would dearly like to dispel.
It is to be hoped that her spirits will be lifted by her brother's visit,
for she remains subdued from yesterday's strange encounter.
Who is he, Holmes?
Why does he not wish to make himself known?
Why indeed?
Watson, you're a brick,
I came here, Fanny, to see how you were, not to be lectured.
It's not a lecture, it's a request.
It sounds like a lecture.
It's quite simple, I need some money.
Just like that?
I suppose you've been overdoing it again, haven't you?
I do not "overdo" it, John.
If I have ever overspent the wretched allowance you give me,
it's because someone has been in need.
Oh, yes, your famous heart of gold,
except that it's my money and there isn't any.
You know perfectly well there isn't. The hall is falling to bits.
There's a family of owls in the East Wing and you think...
What is it this time? Helping penniless poets in Islington?
You only know how to be cruel, don't you?
When have you ever cared for what I want?
The last 15 years of my life have been wretched.
And now, at last, I had a chance
to make something of it. Doesn't that have any meaning for you?
Good afternoon.
The difference it makes is that I'm being told what to do.
You know I loathe it.
The trouble is you won't even take advice, will you?
You've been offered everything. You've turned it all down.
What have I been offered?
Marriage. Good marriages.
To be the unpaid slave of a titled yokel
who hasn't even read a book,
who thinks Bach is something terriers do?
All right, all right.
What have you got against me doing this? What?
I want to get out of this miserable mess my life is in,
to be my own woman, for God's sake,
to fulfill just a portion of my life.
Why do you always hold me back?
Think of it, John, think of it.
Just one payment. One.
You could see the back of me forever.
The mule express, as we have dubbed it,
brings the mail once a month, letters, of course,
and food for the mind from the Library of Christ.
And medicines for the well being of my flock
whom you may see here posing outside the mission
below a temporary belfry.
When I show you the next picture
of a leading member of my congregation,
you will understand how the parable of the shepherd and the lost sheep
has become transmuted in our teaching
into that of the llama herd and the lost llama.
And finally, our church.
Humble as it is rough and poor indeed,
I'm proud to tell you that the word of God
is preached as fervently within its walls
and is as joyously received there
as in any great cathedral here at home.
Thank you, thank you. It was inspiring as I predicted.
I regret to say that the rigours of his itinerary
press hard upon Major Schlessinger
who will shortly be departing for Whitehaven.
We shall be taking up a collection
on behalf of his estimable mission, of course.
What do you mean?
I mean that the remedy lies in your own hands.
How?
You know how.
If you're really serious, you'll know what to do! Damn it!
I'm sick of you coming to me with these crackpot notions.
You know my responsibilities.
If you hadn't thrown away all your chances,
you wouldn't be in this position now.
Well, I've had enough.
You know what you have to do. Grow up and do it!
My last resort.
My very last resort! How can you suggest it?
Groom!
Where the devil are you?
In which room is Mr. Schlessinger's meeting taking place?
I am afraid the meeting finished half an hour ago, Madam.
Mr. Schlessinger will have left for Whitehaven by now.
Oh, yes. Yes, I've forgotten. Thank you.
Lady Frances!
Leave me alone.
Excuse me.
You, sir!
I've no doubt you will tell me my fears are unfounded, Holmes,
but the repeated appearance of this man has cast a shadow over her life
which, try as she might, she cannot lift.
Evening paper, Mr. Holmes.
Mrs. Hudson, fetch me a cab!
Mrs. Hudson. As soon as the telegraph office is open,
to Dr. John Watson, Lake Hotel, Felmire, Cumberland.
But Mr. Holmes?
I shall not be here, Mrs. Hudson.
Dr. Watson.
I shall be on the 8:17 out of Euston.
Dr. Watson!
My cab awaits you downstairs.
Read.
Mr. Holmes...
Read!
"Grave danger Lady Frances, stop. Never let from sight, stop."
"On my way, Holmes."
How long has this been here?
Holmes.
Disappeared, Watson.
Disappeared.
Did Lady Frances pay her bill?
No, sir.
Did she order any transport?
No, sir.
And she took none of her luggage?
We think not, sir.
Where is Mr. Holmes?
Nothing yet, Holmes.
I'm beginning to fear the worst.
I blame myself. I knew I should have pursued that fellow.
It is a possibility.
What is?
Do you not see it? It is most conspicuous.
The skiff, Watson, the sailing skiff.
It's not here.
Precisely.
It is possible there lies the Lady Frances Carfax silent road to Arranside.
It is the nearest railhead as you know.
You don't mean that this fellow abducted her by boat?
Silk. It is one of the three more likely possibilities.
Best French sewn, dove gray.
She had a gray silk shawl.
No, that will tell us nothing more.
What other three possibilities, Holmes?
In what did she usually wear the shawl?
Oh, her outside clothes. The three possibilities?
She may have run away with her intended abductor.
He may have abducted her by boat as you suggest or by some other means.
She may, considering her emotional condition,
have been deceived into going with him.
I can hardly believe that. She was terrified of him, believe me.
I believe you.
Yes.
A stray chicken In the world of foxes.
Once she's gobbled up, she's hardly missed.
Come, Watson. And our horses should be saddled by now.
Horses?
I have been somewhat extravagant in choice of mounts,
but delay must be dangerous in this matter.
We should be at Rufton Hall at dusk.
I don't see what possible interest it could have for you, sir.
Considerable interest I assure you.
One of the most dangerous classes in the world
is the drifting and friendless woman
with no one to protect and guide her.
She is the inevitable inciter of crime in others.
I treat the disappearance of your sister with utmost seriousness.
Do you think I do not?
I'm merely suggesting that it is frivolous
to keep from me the substance of your quarrel.
It was after all
this quarrel which immediately preceded her disappearance.
Might it have something to do with a drunken poet she once knew?
I understand of my colleague that she may have seen him recently.
Green?
I thought I'd seen the last of him.
I sent him packing 15 years ago.
What is his connection with your sister?
He used to court her, great brute of a fellow.
She wouldn't have anything to do with him.
The Honorable Philip Green. Never was a title so abused.
He went to the dogs completely, drink, gambling.
Ended up destitute in Islington pretending to write poetry.
Of course, Frances became interested in him as soon as he lost everything.
How did you send him packing?
He was a violent fellow, and he drank.
I'd heard talk of prosecution, debt, assault.
I gave him 100 pounds and bought him a ticket to Australia.
Show his face around here, I'll set the dogs on him.
Now, your quarrel with your sister.
Money. She wanted money.
She has none of her own?
I make her an allowance out of the estate.
It's modest, but you've seen the place.
She has no assets herself?
Yes, she has.
I told her if she wanted money, she could sell this.
It's a priceless collection.
That was designed for the French royal family by Fragonard.
We acquired it all at the revolution, and now, it's hers.
What I have is owls, owls in the East Wing.
Want to see the owls?
Where does she keep them? Does she travel with them?
No.
Well, now, where are they kept?
My Lord, your sister has vanished!
How and why we do not know,
but I have reason to believe that she is in the gravest danger.
Were we to know the whereabouts of the jewelry,
we might have some chance of saving her.
The Oxford and Lombard Maritime Bank in Pall Mall.
Thank you.
The Oxford and Lombard Bank opens its doors in 12 hours.
She may already have come and gone.
The bank's been open for 20 minutes.
I've been quite blind, Holmes.
I had the evidence in the palm of my hand. If anything's happened...
Calm yourself, my dear friend.
Holmes, look!
May I help you, sir?
Yes, please, I wish to see the manager, Sir Paulo McNeil.
It's a private matter concerning a family deposit with the bank.
My colleague...
Watson!
You, sir.
You, sir! What have you done with the Lady Frances Carfax?
I insist upon an answer.
Mr. Green, sir, please excuse my friend.
He spent the last night on the Carlisle rail express.
No, Watson, please, please.
Frances!
I blame myself.
No, you need not.
Nevertheless, I do.
We all bear equal blame.
She's disappeared again, and that is that.
It is pointless to dwell on it.
Our task now is to find her.
Mr. Green,
let us go back to that moment by the lake yesterday morning.
I was out riding in the dawn
and I saw the skiff sailing across the lake toward Arranside.
And you realized that it was the Lady Frances?
Yes.
Was she alone?
Yes.
Please continue.
I managed to board the same train.
I begged her to speak to me.
I told her how I'd traveled the world and had become a very rich man.
I told her that I'd never stopped loving her,
and that she could have whatever she wanted.
I can see her now.
She sat saying nothing, smiling like a sphinx.
"No," she said... She wanted to go her own way.
When we got to London, I followed her as best I could,
but she seemed determined to be rid of me.
I lost her somewhere near Sellick Bridge.
Sellick? Oh, that is most interesting.
Why?
I'm reliably informed that his usual haunts are west of Westminster.
Who's haunts?
How did you come to be at the bank?
I reasoned that she would be needing money while she was in London,
and I know the address of the family bank well enough.
I had the wild idea of enlisting the manager's help.
Do you know where she is, Mr. Holmes?
No, I do not.
Where do you think she is?
I believe that through our efforts to save her,
we have driven her into the hands of her worst enemy.
But we saw her free.
My dear Watson, a person may walk over the edge of the cliff
because they've been invited to gaze at the moon.
Her eyes may be open, but she is, I believe, at this moment
walking into mortal danger.
Schlessinger?
Mr. Schlessinger.
This last week I sought to acquaint myself
with the world of apostolic missions.
I've also made a search of the records of Scotland Yard.
Schlessinger
is also known as the Reverend Joseph Cubbington,
Amos Callow, the Dean of Masaro,
and Edmund, the Bishop of Lima.
His real name, in fact, is Peters. He's a confidence trickster,
known at Scotland Yard by the uninspired logic
of that place as Holy Peters.
What is not yet suspected,
but incontrovertible, nonetheless, is that he is a murderer.
Peter's specialty is the beguiling of Single woman with private means
by playing on their religious and charitable feelings.
Helena Rosenbloom had been engaged in charitable work for ten years
when she met Schlessinger.
He inspired her to devote her energies to a new mission in the Andes.
Miss Rosenbloom changed her will, said good-bye to her former life,
and boarded the SS Almeria at Glasgow bound for South America.
She was lost overboard the first night at sea.
The SS Almeria docked at Liverpool
for the family to retrieve her effects.
Schlessinger also disembarked.
He went to ground at the Lake District
where he met his next intended victim,
the Lady Frances Carfax.
At last, gentlemen!
At last!
Where was it pawned?
Riley's of Stockwell.
It was by my calculation the 27th shop I tried.
Riley has received two sentences to my knowledge
for the receipt of stolen goods. He will cooperate with us.
What does this mean? What does it mean?
Please, Mr. Green, this is pointless. Don't torture yourself.
Do you think the torture is self-induced?
The thought of Frances in the hands of criminals.
Such thoughts come unbidden, Mr. Holmes.
They break through the strongest defenses
the mind can raise against them.
Calm yourself, Mr. Green, calm yourself.
If she's still innocent
of Schlessinger's true identify, she may well be safe for a time.
And if not?
Then it is clear that he cannot let her loose without his own destruction.
Now, we must continue to hope that she remains ignorant of who he is.
Fifteen years.
I knew I could never come back until I'd made something of myself.
Perhaps it was foolish of me to think
that she would look kindly on me after all these years, but...
I was ridiculously encouraged by the fact that she was not married.
And now, my stupidity has driven her into the arms of a murderer.
What can I do?
Is there nothing I can do?
Does Schlessinger know you by sight?
No.
Ah, well, then there is something that you can do.
But it'll demand great patience.
I have waited for 15 years, Mr. Holmes.
Schlessinger's had a fair price for the jewelry and no questions asked.
He'll almost certainly return to Riley's shop.
The Rosenblooms have challenged the will. Now, give this note to Riley.
He will let you wait at the shop.
It may be a long wait but you must possess your soul in patience.
And above all, no violence.
It's late. Well, it should have been here before now.
Daresay it took longer being out of the ordinary.
The address, dear, remind me.
Yes, sir, can I help?
Argyll Street. I'm looking for Argyll Street.
There's a post office round the corner. Try there.
Mr. Green, we can do nothing without a warrant.
This is intolerable.
Until we have some wretched signature on a piece of paper,
we can do nothing.
Meanwhile these fiends can do with her what they will.
Are you certain that you've told me every detail?
Every detail, I promise.
Then take this note to Scotland Yard.
They will understand the urgency of it.
And I am to wait there for the warrant.
You will not get it today.
Some delay is inevitable. A magistrate must be found.
The process of the law can be encouraged but not goaded.
Tomorrow may be too late for God's sake.
Mr. Green, everything that can be done will be done.
Go.
Tomorrow may indeed be too late.
I'm well aware of it.
Arm yourself, Watson.
We are as usual the irregulars who must take our luck together
as we have occasionally done in the past.
8:00 tomorrow morning Brickston Cemetery.
I fancy that you've been misdirected, sir.
Possibly if you try further down the street.
That will do. We have no time to waste.
You are Henry Peters, late Major Albert Schlessinger
veteran of the Boer War.
Your further aliases I will not bore you by repeating.
And what is your name?
Sherlock Holmes. My friend and companion I think you know.
The house will shortly be under police observation
until a warrant is prepared authorizing a search of the premises.
Your name does not frighten me, Mr. Holmes. I have nothing to hide.
What is your business?
I'm looking for the Lady Frances Carfax.
I'm delighted to hear it.
If anyone can find her, I imagine you can.
Perhaps you'd be so good as to tell me when you do.
I've a note against her for nearly 100 pounds,
and nothing to show for it but a couple of trumpery pendants
that the dealer would hardly look at.
The woman's a leech.
How dare you, sir.
You imposed upon us as a man crippled in a military action.
You are a fraud.
Oh, it may not have been a military action
to satisfy your standards of slaughter, Doctor,
but it was enough for me.
Hm-mm. I salute your powers of improvisation, sir,
and your effrontery, but it will not do.
Oh, I'm perfectly serious. You find her, and I'm your debtor.
I mean to go through this house until I do.
You have a warrant?
This will serve until a better one comes.
Why, you're a common burglar.
And my friend is a dangerous ruffian.
Together we mean to go through your house.
I'm in no position to stop you.
Search where you will. I have nothing to hide.
Where is the coffin that you had brought in to this house?
That is none of your business.
I repeat. Where?
Is it not enough that you force your way into my home,
that you threaten me at gunpoint
must you also now invade the peace of the dead?
Where?
I shall not tell you.
Hold him here, Watson.
I don't believe you'd use that on an unarmed man, Doctor,
and in my condition.
I was a soldier in India, sir. I've shot nobler creatures than you.
Lights, Watson! Lights!
I smelled formaldehyde and astringent.
Thank God. It's not her.
Get them out.
You have violated the peace of the dead. You will now leave.
Who is she?
Get them out.
Her name is Rose Spender.
Get them out!
She is my wife's old nurse.
She's been with the family for half a century.
She died two days ago. We are to bury her tomorrow morning.
Now, get out before I ask the police.
You have summoned to my home to come in and throw you out.
I've been considering the problem, Holmes.
It does seem to me that they could not have murdered Lady Frances
and thought to have disposed of her body in that coffin.
For they would then be faced with burying the old lady.
It may be that this burial has no connection
with Lady Frances' disappearance after all.
I mean she was, as you know, the most-
unpredictable creature.
It may be that she had second thoughts about Schlessinger.
She may even have had some inkling of the kind of man we-
believe him to be and removed herself from the house.
He was, after all, happy to let us search it.
What do you think?
What is your theory then?
I have none.
There are insufficient facts to construct a theory.
You think there's something you've overlooked?
It's late.
And, it should have been there before now.
Daresay it took longer being out of the ordinary.
What has happened to any brains that God has given me?
Watson!
Quick, man! It's life or death.
A hundred chances on death and one on life.
Oh, God most mighty, holy, most merciful savior,
and our most worthy judge eternal,
suffer us not at our last hour for any plains of death...
And never continuous in one stage. In the midst of life, we are in death.
Of whom may we seek for succour but of thee, oh, Lord,
who for our sins art justly displeased.
Yet, oh, Lord, God, most holy...
For as much as it hath pleased almighty God of his great mercy
to take unto himself the soul of our dear sister here departed,
we therefore commit her body to the ground.
Earth to earth
ashes to ashes
dust to dust in sure and certain...
Stop!
Raise that coffin.
What the devil do you mean by this sacrilege?
Murder, sir,
Murder is what I mean.
Why such a deep coffin for such a small old lady?
A sovereign to each of you
if you can lift the lid off that coffin in one minute.
Watson.
Stop or I'll shoot!
It's chloroform.
She's known literally the terrors of the grave.
God knows what this will have done to her.
I've failed.
I have brought her back here to the country of her childhood
which is one of the most beautiful on this planet.
There has been a great improvement as a result.
A landscape so familiar and so intimate to her
will prompt in time a full response I feel sure,
as will the company of friends and family
who've all been most kind and dutiful.
Her poor brother, the Earl, is beside himself
with anger at the criminals
and with mortification at his having quarreled
with Frances before all this happened.
Finally, please accept the enclosed as a token of my gratitude
for your saving of my dear Frances, Mr. Holmes,
and I look forward to our entertainment of you and Dr. Watson
in a happier future.
I cannot accept it.
I refuse to be rewarded for fostering a tragedy.
I've never suffered such a complete eclipse of my faculties.
Well, like any eclipse, Holmes, it's only temporary.
There's every hope of a full recovery.
I wonder...
I wonder.