gone before an unshaven French ouvrier in a blue blouse darted
out from a cabaret opposite, with a cudgel in his hand, and struck my
assailant a sharp crack over the forearm, which made him leave go his
hold. He stood for an instant fuming with rage and uncertain whether
he should not renew his attack. Then, with a snarl of anger, he left me
and entered the cottage from which I had just come. I turned to thank
my preserver, who stood beside me in the roadway.

"Well, Watson," said he, "a very pretty hash you have made of it! I
rather think you had better come back with me to London by the night
express."

An hour afterwards, Sherlock Holmes, in his usual garb and style, was
seated in my private room at the hotel. His explanation of his sudden
and opportune appearance was simplicity itself, for, finding that he
could get away from London, he determined to head me off at the next
obvious point of my travels. In the disguise of a workingman he had
sat in the cabaret waiting for my appearance.

"And a singularly consistent investigation you have made, my dear
Watson," said he. "I cannot at the moment recall any possible blunder
which you have omitted. The total effect of your proceeding has been
to give the alarm everywhere and yet to discover nothing."

"Perhaps you would have done no better," I answered bitterly.

"There is no 'perhaps' about it. I HAVE done better. Here is the Hon.
Philip Green, who is a fellow-lodger with you in this hotel, and we may
find him the starting-point for a more successful investigation."

A card had come up on a salver, and it was followed by the same bearded
ruffian who had attacked me in the street. He started when he saw me.

"What is this, Mr. Holmes?" he asked. "I had your note and I have
come. But what has this man to do with the matter?"

"This is my old friend and associate, Dr. Watson, who is helping us in
this affair."

The stranger held out a huge, sunburned hand, with a few words of
apology.

"I hope I didn't harm you. When you accused me of hurting her I lost
my grip of myself. Indeed, I'm not responsible in these days. My
nerves are like live wires. But this situation is beyond me. What I
want to know, in the first place, Mr. Holmes, is, how in the world you
came to hear of my existence at all."

"I am in touch with Miss Dobney, Lady Frances's governess."

"Old Susan Dobney with the mob cap! I remember her well."

"And she remembers you. It was