Sir Charles was just telling Dot off for being out late in the abandoned walled garden at Dendringham Hall when a letter arrived. The impact of it was shocking!
“You’ll be well enough now” said Mr Holmes, looking down at Sir Charles as he lay on the big Chesterfield sofa next to his desk after his attack of the d’Auberley choleric. The master of Dendringham Hall was still twitching slightly - but now his face was deathly pale where before it had been brick-red.
“Dr Watson has instructed me exactly what to do in these circumstances” the detective smiled. “It’s one of the many advantages of sharing lodgings with a medical man!”
He pushed a cork back into the little bottle of strong-smelling stuff he had waved under Sir Charles’ nose. Dot could still smell whatever it was in the air – pooh! It was REALLY strong!
Sir Charles nodded, and wiped his face with a trembling hand. Miss Walsingham stepped forward and gently patted his forehead with her handkerchief, drying it where little beads of cold sweat stood out on his furrowed brow.
“You gave us quite a shock, Sir Charles!” she said quietly.
“Yes… yes… I… I really must apologize” whispered Sir Charles hoarsely. “Bad… bad form… ”
“Shall I send for the doctor, sir?” asked Crabbings. He was standing there looking at Sir Charles with his big gooseberry-like eyes almost popping out of his head.
“Yes, do” said Mr Holmes. “Just in case!” Crabbings turned and left, closing the study door softly behind him.
It had been a bit of luck that Mr Holmes had been passing the study on his way up to bed when Sir Charles had his attack, choking and spluttering and hardly able to breathe. The detective had come straight to the rescue, loosening his tie and pushing the little bottle under his nose so Sir Charles had to breathe it in. Then he and Crabbings had lifted the sick man onto the sofa.
Again Dot felt a pang. It was horrible to see such a big man go down so fast – whatever he had done. It must make him feel so guilty, she thought.
“Miss Walsingham” said Mr Holmes, turning to the governess. “Would you please be so kind as to see if you can find Lady Sarah? The last time I saw her, she
was reading in the Conservatory. She won’t have heard our little commotion – it’s too far away from here at that end of the Hall.”
“Indeed, Mr Holmes” said Miss Walsingham. She looked down at Dot – and her careworn features relaxed from the stern look she had had ever since she had come in from the walled garden. “And I think it’s well past this young lady’s bedtime!”
Aaaargh thought Dot, not NOW! Not just when we might be about to have another breakthrough! She could see a corner of the scruffy letter that had upset Sir Charles so much on the floor, a corner of it peeping out by his desk, just where he’d dropped it.
Mr Holmes might have been reading her thoughts. “Not just yet, if you please, Miss Walsingham” he said, raising a hand. “I might need young Dorothea here as a speedy messenger in case our patient suffers another attack!”
Miss Walsingham opened her mouth to speak – but then just closed it, and nodded. With a rustle of her skirts, she walked quickly to the door and went out.
Mr Homes looked down at Sir Charles again. His eyes narrowed. “Now Sir Charles” he said “such attacks as the one you have just most unfortunately suffered are usually brought on by shock. Have you anything to tell me?”
Sir Charles shook his head wearily – the fit of the ‘Choleric’ had obviously exhausted him.
But he couldn’t help himself – his eyes strayed over to where the letter had fallen from his hand as he suffered his attack.
Mr Holmes saw it too.
He bent over and picked it up. Sir Charles reached his hand up in a feeble attempt to take it, but it was too late.
Mr Holmes’s eyebrows shot up. “Indeed!” he said softly, half to himself. “Indeed!”
Then he looked down at Sir Charles and his eyes narrowed again.
“And who would write such a letter to you as this, Sir Charles?” said Mr Holmes. Now Dot knew why he had sent Miss Walsingham away – he had guessed something important had happened to make Sir Charles have his attack of the d’Auberley Choleric, and needed time to question him in private.
It seemed cruel to Dot to be questioning a sick man like this… but then she remembered what had happened to Giles Langton, and what she’d heard Lady Sarah saying about a “great wrong”. She hardened her heart.
“Let me read it to you” said Mr Holmes. “It says the following - in blood red capital letters… ” He paused, and Sir Charles tried to speak, and then to reach out again for the letter, but he could do neither – he was still too weak.
Dot closed her eyes. PLEASE don’t let him a have another attack, she prayed to herself. Oh Mr Holmes I hope you know what you’re doing!
The detective’s voice was deep and strong. And there was no doubting the menace in the message. None at all!
“YOU HOUR HAS COME SIR CHARLES. THE HOUR WHEN YOU WILL ACCOUNT FOR YOUR GREAT AND VILE INJUSTICE. PREPARE TO PAY FOR YOUR CRIME!”
