The Adventure of the Golden Pince-Nez - Page 2

goloshes, and every aid that man ever invented to
fight the weather. Wait a bit, though! There's the cab off
again! There's hope yet. He'd have kept it if he had wanted us
to come. Run down, my dear fellow, and open the door, for all
virtuous folk have been long in bed."

When the light of the hall lamp fell upon our midnight visitor,
I had no difficulty in recognizing him. It was young Stanley
Hopkins, a promising detective, in whose career Holmes had
several times shown a very practical interest.

"Is he in?" he asked, eagerly.

"Come up, my dear sir," said Holmes's voice from above. "I hope
you have no designs upon us such a night as this."

The detective mounted the stairs, and our lamp gleamed upon his
shining waterproof. I helped him out of it, while Holmes knocked
a blaze out of the logs in the grate.

"Now, my dear Hopkins, draw up and warm your toes," said he.
"Here's a cigar, and the doctor has a prescription containing
hot water and a lemon, which is good medicine on a night like
this. It must be something important which has brought you out
in such a gale."

"It is indeed, Mr. Holmes. I've had a bustling afternoon, I
promise you. Did you see anything of the Yoxley case in the
latest editions?"

"I've seen nothing later than the fifteenth century to-day."

"Well, it was only a paragraph, and all wrong at that, so you
have not missed anything. I haven't let the grass grow under my
feet. It's down in Kent, seven miles from Chatham and three from
the railway line. I was wired for at 3:15, reached Yoxley Old
Place at 5, conducted my investigation, was back at Charing
Cross by the last train, and straight to you by cab."

"Which means, I suppose, that you are not quite clear about your case?"

"It means that I can make neither head nor tail of it. So far as
I can see, it is just as tangled a business as ever I handled,
and yet at first it seemed so simple that one couldn't go wrong.
There's no motive, Mr. Holmes. That's what bothers me--I can't
put my hand on a motive. Here's a man dead--there's no denying
that--but, so far as I can see, no reason on earth why anyone
should wish him harm."

Holmes lit his cigar and leaned back in his chair.

"Let us hear about it," said he.

"I've got my facts pretty clear," said Stanley Hopkins. "All I
want now is to know what they all mean. The story, so far as I
can make it out, is like this. Some years ago this country
house, Yoxley Old Place, was taken by an elderly man, who gave
the name of Professor Coram. He was an invalid, keeping his bed
half the time, and the other half hobbling round the house with
a stick or being pushed about the grounds by the gardener in a
Bath