I finished my description of the events of the night before, as told to me by the girl, Colleen. "She could say nothing of the man's walk," said I, "for she is not an observant girl, though I should think she is likely quick enough about her duties. Nor could she describe to me anything distinctive about his voice, although they had exchanged some few words as to the importance of the letter."
"Is there nothing further that she could tell you?" asked Mrs Kendrick. I thought I heard dismay in her voice, however I did not know whether she was more eager to have the case solved so that she could return to her comfortable life, or if she was more anxious for the facts with which the case could be solved.
"This may not even have been the same man as was observed the previous night," noted Holmes. "It may well be the companion that accompanied the first observer that very first night, when you were quite unaware of the events."
Both Holmes and Mrs Kendrick were disappointed in the remainder of the information that I had brought them, although they had initially greeted it warmly enough. I could read it in their manners as easily as I could read the morning papers, mirroring one another as they were in every feature. "That is not quite all," said I, anxious not to disappoint the two.
"Then go on, Watson," Holmes urged. "There is no time to spare." I did not know from where he was drawing his sense of urgency. There had certainly been nothing to indicate it to me.
But looking over at Mrs Kendrick, I could see the same hastiness written on her features. I was unsure whether I had overlooked something essential, or if I was rather on the outside of some silent communication between the two. I should not have doubted that the whole matter had taken up something of the nature of a challenge between the two, whether for the better or for the worse.
"Although I had descended from my cab to receive the note, I had not moved far down the path toward the door, leaving the girl to cross over to me. She left the door ajar behind her, a fortunate circumstance, for the light spilled freely out behind her. There were no footprints visible on the lawn, so the man must have stuck to the path," said I.
"There is nothing in this," cried Holmes in frustration.
"I have not yet finished," said I brusquely, rather hurt that Holmes would think so little of me.
"Then by all means carry on," Holmes pressed.
If I should not have been more aware of Holmes's temperament, I might have been angered with his callous disregard of my feelings, but I knew that he cared little for the emotions of others even at the best of times and even less so when he was involved in with an intriguing case, as he was now.
"Thanks to the detail of the sketch that we had earlier been provided, I could easily recognize the place where the man had been observed to stand the night before last. When I had first approached the house, it had been cloaked in deep shadow and I had been quite unable to observe anything. However, when Colleen came out to me, leaving as I had already stated, the door ajar, light was cast on the corner in question," said I, perhaps still a bit testily. "Although the illumination was still exceedingly poor, it was possible to make out the form of a man, hiding away in the shadows and half-concealed behind the lower branches of the nearby tree."
"And what of him?" inquired Holmes, leaning forward eagerly in his seat.
"It was impossible for me to distinguish details for the distance and in the poor light, but I was able to make several gross observations. He was clothed darkly, for there was little enough to distinguish his form but to an eye who was searching for it. There was no sign of a stick or umbrella, although such a thing could have been leaning out of sight against the wall of the neighbouring house," I answered. "He was not a tall man, for he fit in neatly beneath the branches, and I should have estimated them at not quite six feet from the ground. And yet he was stout, for a slender man should have fit in next to the trunk of the tree and gone unseen in the shadows."
Here Holmes pursed his lips and made some small sound, whether of approval or disapproval I could not tell. I halted in my narrative and looked over at him. He made a motion for me to continue, but did not utter a word.
"I was struck by a few similarities to the description that you had given us last night, Mrs Kendrick," said I. "His head was bare, for it was just possible to see his hair, which must be extraordinarily thick and full, as it was blown about in the wind. I could also make out something being held in the man's hand, and I should think that it was likely the missing hat. His coat must also have been of heavy material, for although his hair was stirred easily by the breeze and I felt it tugging at my own tails, his coat was scarcely stirring. And that is all that I was able to observe in the short time that I was allowed."
"I believe that we have had our description of the second man, have we not?" commented Mrs Kendrick blithely, her attentions focused on the visage of my companion.
"Such as it is," Holmes sighed, folding his hands together and closing his eyes.
Now that the facts had entirely been delivered, I knew that he would want to take some time and filter them through his mind. It might be hours before he was ready to be disturbed, and as he preferred quiet in these times, I was about to make the suggestion that Mrs Kendrick might return to her room for a period of rest. But when I turned to her, I discovered that she had assumed an attitude very much like that of Sherlock Holmes's.
There were differences, to be sure. Her blue eyes were wide and she had fixed her gaze on some distant point that I could not determine, her fingers were silently drumming on the arms of her chair, and rather than her head being rested back against her chair, it was tilted to the side slightly, as though she were listening to something. But despite the differences, it was plainly apparent that she too was turning over the facts in her mind.
Determining that it was best not to disturb them as they sat consumed with their own thoughts, I leaned back in my chair and took up a book from one of the many stacks that Holmes had left laying about. I knew not how long it would be before one or the other emerged from their reveries.
