singer's remarkable personality,
his whole hearted devotion, and the fact that he was recovering from a
disease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected her
deeply. She had helped Mrs. Shlessinger in the nursing of the
convalescent saint. He spent his day, as the manager described it to
me, upon a lounge-chair on the veranda, with an attendant lady upon
either side of him. He was preparing a map of the Holy Land, with
special reference to the kingdom of the Midianites, upon which he was
writing a monograph. Finally, having improved much in health, he and
his wife had returned to London, and Lady Frances had started thither
in their company. This was just three weeks before, and the manager
had heard nothing since. As to the maid, Marie, she had gone off some
days beforehand in floods of tears, after informing the other maids
that she was leaving service forever. Dr. Shlessinger had paid the
bill of the whole party before his departure.

"By the way," said the landlord in conclusion, "you are not the only
friend of Lady Frances Carfax who is inquiring after her just now.
Only a week or so ago we had a man here upon the same errand."

"Did he give a name?" I asked.

"None; but he was an Englishman, though of an unusual type."

"A savage?" said I, linking my facts after the fashion of my
illustrious friend.

"Exactly. That describes him very well. He is a bulky, bearded,
sunburned fellow, who looks as if he would be more at home in a
farmers' inn than in a fashionable hotel. A hard, fierce man, I should
think, and one whom I should be sorry to offend."

Already the mystery began to define itself, as figures grow clearer
with the lifting of a fog. Here was this good and pious lady pursued
from place to place by a sinister and unrelenting figure. She feared
him, or she would not have fled from Lausanne. He had still followed.
Sooner or later he would overtake her. Had he already overtaken her?
Was THAT the secret of her continued silence? Could the good people
who were her companions not screen her from his violence or his
blackmail? What horrible purpose, what deep design, lay behind this
long pursuit? There was the problem which I had to solve.

To Holmes I wrote showing how rapidly and surely I had got down to the
roots of the matter. In reply I had a telegram asking for a
description of Dr. Shlessinger's left ear. Holmes's ideas of humour
are strange and occasionally offensive,