Enid is discovered seated near the lamp at a small table near a window. A knock is heard at the door
ENID: Who is there?
RYLOTT (off) It is I.
ENID: What do you want?
RYLOTT: Why is your light still burning?
ENID: I have been reading.
RYLOTT: You are not in bed then?
ENID: Not yet.
RYLOTT: Then I desire to come in.
ENID: But it is so late.
RYLOTT: (rattles door) Come, come, let me in this instant.
ENID: No, no I cannot!
RYLOTT: Must I break the door in?
ENID: I will open it. I will open it. (Opens door.) Why do persecute me so?
(RYLOTT enters in his dressing gown.)
RYLOTT: Why are you so childish and so suspicious? Your mind has brooded upon your poor sister's death until you have built up these fantastic suspicions against me. Tell me now Enid—I'm not such a bad sort you know, if you only deal frankly with me. Tell me, have you any idea of your own about how your sister died? Was that what you went to Mr. Holmes about this morning? Couldn't you take me into your confidence as well as him? Is it not natural that I should feel hurt when I see you turn to a stranger for advice?
ENID: How my poor sister met her death only your own wicked heart can know. I am as sure that it came to her through you as if I had seen you strike her down. You may kill me if you like, but I will tell you what I think.
RYLOTT: My dear child, you are overwrought and hysterical. What can have put such wild ideas into your head? After all, I may have a hasty temper —I have often deplored it to you—but what excuse have I ever given you for such monstrous suspicions?
ENID: You think that by a few smooth words you can make me forget all your past looks, your acts. You cannot deceive me, I know the danger and I face it.
RYLOTT: What, then, is the danger?
ENID: It is near me to-night, whatever it is.
RYLOTT: Why do you think so?
ENID: Why is that Indian watching in the darkness? I opened my window just now, and there he was. Why is he there?
RYLOTT: To prevent your making a public fool of yourself. You are capable of getting loose and making a scandal.
ENID: He is there to keep me in my room until you come to murder me.
RYLOTT: Upon my word, I think your brain is unhinged. Now, look here, Enid, be reasonable for a moment.
ENID: What's that?
RYLOTT: What is it, then?
ENID: I thought I heard a cry.
RYLOTT: It's the howling of the wind. Listen to me. If there is friction between us—and I don't for a moment deny that there is—why is it? You think I mean to hurt you. I could only have one possible motive for hurting you. Why not remove that motive? Then you could no longer work yourself into these terrors. Here is that legal paper I spoke of. Mrs. Staunton could witness it. All I want is your signature.
ENID: No, never.
RYLOTT: Never!
ENID: Unless my lawyer advises it.
RYLOTT: Is that final?
ENID (springing up): Yes, it is. I will never sign it.
RYLOTT: Well, I have done my best for you. It was your last chance.
ENID: Ah! then you do mean murder.
RYLOTT: The last chance of regaining my favour. You – (Pause.) Get to your bed and may you wake in a more rational mood to- morrow. You will not be permitted to make a scandal. Ali will be at his post outside, and I shall sit in the hall; so you may reconcile yourself to being quiet. Nothing more to say to me?
(He goes out.)
(When he has gone, ENID listens to his departing footsteps. Then she locks the door once again, and looks round her.)
ENID: What is that tapping? Surely I heard tapping! Perhaps it is the pulse within my own brain?
(Tapping.)
Yes! there it is again! Where was it? Is it the signal of death? (Looks wildly round the walls.) Ah! it grows louder. It is the window. (Goes towards window.) A man! a man crouching in the darkness. Still tapping. It's not Ali! The face was white. Ah!
(The window opens and HOLMES enters.)
HOLMES: My dear young lady, I trust that I don't intrude.
ENID: Oh, Mr. Holmes, I'm so glad to see you! Save me! save me! Mr. Holmes, they mean to murder me.
HOLMES: Tut, tut! We mean that they shall do nothing of sort.
ENID: I had given up all hope of your coming.
HOLMES: These old-fashioned window-catches are most inefficient.
ENID: How did you pass the Indian and the dog?
HOLMES: Well, as to the Indian, we chloroformed him. Watson is busy tying him up in the arbour at the present moment. The dog I was compelled to shoot at an earlier stage of the proceeding.
ENID: You shot Siva!
HOLMES: I might have been forced to shoot her master also. It was after I sent you to your room. He threatened me with a whip.
ENID: You were—you were Peters, the butler.
HOLMES (feeling the walls): I wanted to be near you. So this is the famous room, is it? Dear me! very much as I had pictured it. You will excuse me for not discovering myself to you, but any cry or agitation upon your part would have betrayed me.
ENID: But your daughter Amelia?
HOLMES: Ah, yes, I take Billy when I can. Billy as messenger is invaluable.
ENID: Then you intended to watch over me till night?
HOLMES: Exactly. But the man's brutality caused me to show my hand too soon. However, I have never been far from your window. I gather the matter is pressing.
ENID: He means to murder me to-night.
HOLMES: He is certainly in an ugly humour. He is not in his room at present.
ENID: No, he is in the hall.
HOLMES: So we can talk with safety. What has become of the excellent Watson? (Approaches window.) Come in, Watson, come in!
(Enter WATSON from window.)
How is our Indian friend?
WATSON: He is coming out of the chloroform; but he can neither move nor speak. Good evening, Miss Stonor, what a night it is.
ENID: How can I thank you for coming?
HOLMES: You'll find Dr. Watson a useful companion on such an occasion. He has a natural turn for violence—some survival of his surgical training. The wind is good. Its howling will cover all sounds. Just sit in the window, Watson, and see that our retreat is safe. With your leave, I will inspect the room a little more closely. Now, my dear young lady, I can see that you are frightened to death, and no wonder. Your courage, so far, has been admirable. Sit over here by the fire.
ENID: If he should come—!
HOLMES: In that case answer him. Say that you have gone to bed. (Takes lamp from table.) A most interesting old room—very quaint indeed! Old- fashioned comfort without modern luxury. The passage is, as I understand, immediately outside?
ENID: Yes.
HOLMES: Mr. Peters made two attempts to explore the ground, but without avail. By the way, I gather that you tried to send me a message, and that old Rodgers gave it to your stepfather.
ENID: Yes, he did.
HOLMES: He is not to be blamed. His master controls him. He had to betray you. (Placing lamp down.)
ENID: It was my fault.
HOLMES: Well, well, it was an indiscretion, but it didn't matter. Let me see now, on this side is the room under repair. Quite so. Only one door. This leads into the passage?
ENID: Yes.
HOLMES: And that passage to the hall?
ENID: Yes.
HOLMES: Here is where the genial old gentleman sleeps when he is so innocently employed. Where is his door?
ENID: Down the passage.
HOLMES: Surely I heard him—(A step is heard in the passage.)
ENID: Yes, it's his step.
(HOLMES holds his hat over the light. There is a knock at the door.)
RYLOTT (outside door): Enid!
ENID: What is it?
RYLOTT: Are you in bed?
ENID: Yes.
RYLOTT: Are you still of the same mind?
ENID: Yes, I am.
(Pause. They all listen.)
HOLMES (whispering): Has he gone into his room?
ENID (crossing to door, listening): No, he's gone down the passage again to the hall.
HOLMES: Then we must make the most of the time. Might I trouble you, Watson, for the gimlet and the yard measure? Thank you! The lantern also. Thank you! You can turn up the lamp. I am interested in this partition wall. (Standing on the bed.) No little surprise, I suppose? No trap- doors and sliding panels? Funny folk, our ancestors, with a quaint taste in practical joking. (Gets on bed and fingers the wall.) No, it seems solid enough. Dear me! and yet you say your sister fastened both door and window. Remarkable. My lens, Watson. A perfectly respectable wall—in fact, a commonplace wall. Trap-door in the floor? (Kneels at one side of the bed, then the other.) No, nothing suspicious in that direction. Ancient carpeting—(crossing round bed)—oak wainscot —nothing more. Hullo! (Pulling at bed- post.)
WATSON: Why, what is it?
HOLMES: Why is your bed clamped to the floor?
ENID: I really don't know.
HOLMES: Was the bed in your other room clamped?
ENID: No, I don't think it was.
HOLMES: Very interesting. Most interesting and instructive. And this bell- pull—where does it communicate with?
ENID: It does not work.
HOLMES: But if you want to ring?
ENID: There is another over here.
HOLMES: Then why this one?
ENID: I don't know. There were some changes after we came here.
HOLMES: Quite a burst of activity, apparently. It took some strange shapes. (Standing on the bed.) You may be interested to know that the bell-rope ends in a brass hook. No wire attachment; it is a dummy. Dear me! how very singular. I see a small screen above it, which covers a ventilator, I suppose?
ENID: Yes, Mr. Holmes, there is a ventilator.
HOLMES: Curious fad to ventilate one room into another when one could as well get the open air. Most original man, the architect. Very singular indeed. There is no means of opening the flap from here; it must open on the other side.
WATSON: What do you make of it, Holmes?
HOLMES: Suggestive, my dear Watson, very suggestive. Might I trouble you for your knife? With your permission, Miss Stonor, I will make a slight alteration. (Stands on bed-head and cuts the bell-pull.)
WATSON: Why do you do that, Holmes?
HOLMES: Dangerous, Watson, dangerous. Bear in mind that this opening, concealed by a flap of wood, leads into the room of our cheery Anglo-Indian neighbour. I repeat the adjective, Watson—Anglo- Indian.
WATSON: Well, Holmes?
HOLMES: The bed is clamped so that it cannot be shifted. He has a dummy bell- pull which leads to the bed. He has a hole above it which opens on his room. He is an Anglo-Indian doctor. Do you make nothing of all this? The music, too? The music. What is the music?
WATSON: A signal, Holmes.
HOLMES: A signal! A signal to whom?
WATSON: An accomplice.
HOLMES: Exactly. An accomplice who could enter a room with locked doors —an accomplice who could give a sure death which leaves no trace. An accomplice who can only be attracted back by music.
ENID: Hush! he is gone to his room.
(A door is heard to close outside.)
Listen! The door is shut.
HOLMES (as Watson is about to take up lamp): Keep the lamp covered, so that if the ventilator is opened no light will show. He must think the girl is asleep. Keep the dark lantern handy. We must wait in the dark. I fancy we shall not have long to wait.
ENID: I am so frightened.
HOLMES: It is too much for you.
WATSON: Can I do anything, Holmes?
HOLMES: You can hand me my hunting-crop. Hush! What's that?
(Flute music is heard.)
My stick, Watson—quick, be quick! Now take the lantern. Have you got it? When I cry, "Now!" turn it full blaze upon the top of the bell- rope. Do you understand?
WATSON: Yes.
HOLMES: Down that bell-rope comes the messenger of death. It guides to the girl's pillow. Hush! the flap!
(The flap opens, disclosing a small square of light. This light is obscured. Music a good deal louder.)
(Cries sharply.) Now!
(WATSON turns the lantern full on to the bell-rope. A snake is half through the hole. HOLMES lashes at it with his stick. It disappears backwards.)
(The flute music stops.)
WATSON: It has gone.
HOLMES: Yes, it has gone, but we know the truth.
(A loud cry is heard.)
WATSON: What is that?
HOLMES: I believe the devil has turned on its master.
(Another cry.)
It is in the passage. (Throws open the door.)
(In the doorway is seen DR. RYLOTT in shirt and trousers, the snake round his head and neck.)
RYLOTT: Save me! save me!
(RYLOTT rushes in and falls on the floor. WATSON strikes at the snake as it writhes across the room.)
WATSON (looking at the snake): The brute is dead.
HOLMES (looking at RYLOTT): So is the other.
(They both run to support the fainting lady.)
HOLMES: Miss Stonor, there is no more danger for you under this roof.
CURTAIN