n
the contrary, she spoke of him with such bitterness that she was
unconsciously considerably strengthening the case of the police, for,
of course, if her son had heard her speak of the man in this fashion it
would predispose him towards hatred and violence. 'He was more like a
malignant and cunning ape than a human being,' said she, 'and he always
was, ever since he was a young man.'

"'You knew him at that time?' said I.

"'Yes, I knew him well; in fact, he was an old suitor of mine. Thank
Heaven that I had the sense to turn away from him and to marry a better,
if a poorer, man. I was engaged to him, Mr. Holmes, when I heard a
shocking story of how he had turned a cat loose in an aviary, and I was
so horrified at his brutal cruelty that I would have nothing more to
do with him.' She rummaged in a bureau, and presently she produced a
photograph of a woman, shamefully defaced and mutilated with a knife.
'That is my own photograph,' she said. 'He sent it to me in that state,
with his curse, upon my wedding morning.'

"'Well,' said I, 'at least he has forgiven you now, since he has left
all his property to your son.'

"'Neither my son nor I want anything from Jonas Oldacre, dead or alive,'
she cried, with a proper spirit. 'There is a God in Heaven, Mr. Holmes,
and that same God who has punished that wicked man will show in His own
good time that my son's hands are guiltless of his blood.'

"Well, I tried one or two leads, but could get at nothing which would
help our hypothesis, and several points which would make against it. I
gave it up at last and off I went to Norwood.

"This place, Deep Dene House, is a big modern villa of staring brick,
standing back in its own grounds, with a laurel-clumped lawn in front
of it. To the right and some distance back from the road was the
timber-yard which had been the scene of the fire. Here's a rough plan on
a leaf of my note-book. This window on the left is the one which opens
into Oldacre's room. You can look into it from the road, you see. That
is about the only bit of consolation I have had to-day. Lestrade was
not there, but his head constable did the honours. They had just made a
great treasure-trove. They had spent the morning raking among the ashes
of the burned wood-pile, and besides the charred organic remains they
had secured several discoloured metal discs. I examined them with
care, and there was no doubt that they were trouser buttons. I even
distinguished that o