although six
miles from the station? Odd, Watson--very odd!"

"You will go down?"

"No, my dear fellow, YOU will go down. This may be some trifling
intrigue, and I cannot break my other important research for the sake
of it. On Monday you will arrive early at Farnham; you will conceal
yourself near Charlington Heath; you will observe these facts for
yourself, and act as your own judgment advises. Then, having inquired as
to the occupants of the Hall, you will come back to me and report. And
now, Watson, not another word of the matter until we have a few solid
stepping-stones on which we may hope to get across to our solution."

We had ascertained from the lady that she went down upon the Monday by
the train which leaves Waterloo at 9:50, so I started early and caught
the 9:13. At Farnham Station I had no difficulty in being directed to
Charlington Heath. It was impossible to mistake the scene of the young
lady's adventure, for the road runs between the open heath on one side
and an old yew hedge upon the other, surrounding a park which is studded
with magnificent trees. There was a main gateway of lichen-studded
stone, each side pillar surmounted by mouldering heraldic emblems, but
besides this central carriage drive I observed several points where
there were gaps in the hedge and paths leading through them. The house
was invisible from the road, but the surroundings all spoke of gloom and
decay.

The heath was covered with golden patches of flowering gorse, gleaming
magnificently in the light of the bright spring sunshine. Behind one of
these clumps I took up my position, so as to command both the gateway
of the Hall and a long stretch of the road upon either side. It had been
deserted when I left it, but now I saw a cyclist riding down it from the
opposite direction to that in which I had come. He was clad in a dark
suit, and I saw that he had a black beard. On reaching the end of the
Charlington grounds, he sprang from his machine and led it through a gap
in the hedge, disappearing from my view.

A quarter of an hour passed, and then a second cyclist appeared. This
time it was the young lady coming from the station. I saw her look
about her as she came to the Charlington hedge. An instant later the man
emerged from his hiding-place, sprang upon his cycle, and followed
her. In all the broad landscape those were the only moving figures, the
graceful girl sitting very straight upon her machine, and the man behind