“This man Ronder, no doubt.”
“Well, if his skull was smashed in you would hardly expect tohear from him again. There were at least two witnesses who spokeof the cries of a man being mingled with those of a woman.”
“I should think the whole camp was crying out by then. As tothe other points, I think I could suggest a solution.”
“I should be glad to consider it.”
“The two were together, ten yards from the cage, when thelion got loose. The man turned and was struck down. The womanconceived the idea of getting into the cage and shutting the door.
It was her only refuge. She made for it, and just as she reachedit the beast bounded after her and knocked her over. She wasangry with her husband for having encouraged the beast’s rage byturning. If they had faced it they might have cowed it. Hence hercries of ‘Coward!’ ”
“Brilliant, Watson! Only one flaw in your diamond.”
“What is the flaw, Holmes?”
“If they were both ten paces from the cage, how came the beastto get loose?”
“Is it possible that they had some enemy who loosed it?”
“And why should it attack them savagely when it was in thehabit of playing with them, and doing tricks with them inside thecage?”
“Possibly the same enemy had done something to enrage it.”
Holmes looked thoughtful and remained in silence for somemoments.
“Well, Watson, there is this to be said for your theory. Ronderwas a man of many enemies. Edmunds told me that in his cupshe was horrible. A huge bully of a man, he cursed and slashedat everyone who came in his way. I expect those cries abouta monster, of which our visitor has spoken, were nocturnalreminiscences of the dear departed. However, our speculations arefutile until we have all the facts. There is a cold partridge on thesideboard, Watson, and a bottle of Montrachet. Let us renew ourenergies before we make a fresh call upon them.”
When our hansom deposited us at the house of Mrs. Merrilow,we found that plump lady blocking up the open door of herhumble but retired abode. It was very clear that her chiefpreoccupation was lest she should lose a valuable lodger, and sheimplored us, before showing us up, to say and do nothing whichcould lead to so undesirable an end. Then, having reassured her,we followed her up the straight, badly carpeted staircase and wereshown into the room of the mysterious lodger.
It was a close, musty, ill-ventilated place, as might be expected,since its inmate seldom left it. From keeping beasts in a cage,the woman seemed, by some retribution of fate, to have becomeherself a beast in a cage. She sat now in a broken armchair inthe shadowy corner of the room. Long years of inaction hadcoarsened the lines of her figure, but at some period it must havebeen beautiful, and was still full and voluptuous. A thick darkveil covered her face, but it was cut off close at her upper lip anddisclosed a perfectly shaped mouth and a delicately rounded chin.
I could well conceive that she had indeed been a very remarkablewoman. Her voice, too, was well modulated and pleasing.
“My name is not unfamiliar to you, Mr. Holmes,” said she. “Ithought that it would bring you.”
“That is so, madam, though I do not know how you are awarethat I was interested in your case.”
“I learned it when I had recovered my health and was examinedby Mr. Edmunds, the county detective. I fear I lied to him.
Perhaps it would have been wiser had I told the truth.”
“It is usually wiser to tell the truth. But why did you lie to him?”
“Because the fate of someone else depended upon it. I knowthat he was a very worthless being, and yet I would not have hisdestruction upon my conscience. We had been so close—so close!”
“But has this impediment been removed?”
“Yes, sir. The person that I allude to is dead.”
“Then why should you not now tell the police anything youknow?”
“Because there is another person to be considered. That otherperson is myself. I could not stand the scandal and publicity whichwould come from a police examination. I have not long to live,but I wish to die undisturbed. And yet I wanted to find one manof judgment to whom I could tell my terrible story, so that when Iam gone all might be understood.”
“You compliment me, madam. At the same time, I am a responsibleperson. I do not promise you that when you have spoken I maynot myself think it my duty to refer the case to the police.”
“I think not, Mr. Holmes. I know your character and methodstoo well, for I have followed your work for some years. Readingis the only pleasure which fate has left me, and I miss little whichpasses in the world. But in any case, I will take my chance of the usewhich you may make of my tragedy. It will ease my mind to tell it.”
“My friend and I would be glad to hear it.”
The woman rose and took from a drawer the photograph of aman. He was clearly a professional acrobat, a man of magnificentphysique, taken with his huge arms folded across his swollen chestand a smile breaking from under his heavy moustache—the selfsatisfiedsmile of the man of many conquests.
“That is Leonardo,” she said.
“Leonardo, the strong man, who gave evidence?”
“The same. And this—this is my husband.”
It was a dreadful face—a human pig, or rather a human wildboar, for it was formidable in its bestiality. One could imaginethat vile mouth champing and foaming in its rage, and one couldconceive those small, vicious eyes darting pure malignancy asthey looked forth upon the world. Ruffian, bully, beast—it was allwritten on that heavy-jowled face.
