when Ettie Edwards died. Once again he was nearly
killed, and once again under the name of Douglas he worked in a lonely
canon, where with an English partner named Barker he amassed a fortune.
At last there came a warning to him that the bloodhounds were on his
track once more, and he cleared--only just in time--for England. And
thence came the John Douglas who for a second time married a worthy
mate, and lived for five years as a Sussex county gentleman, a life
which ended with the strange happenings of which we have heard.

Epilogue

The police trial had passed, in which the case of John Douglas was
referred to a higher court. So had the Quarter Sessions, at which he was
acquitted as having acted in self-defense.

"Get him out of England at any cost," wrote Holmes to the wife. "There
are forces here which may be more dangerous than those he has escaped.
There is no safety for your husband in England."

Two months had gone by, and the case had to some extent passed from our
minds. Then one morning there came an enigmatic note slipped into our
letter box. "Dear me, Mr. Holmes. Dear me!" said this singular epistle.
There was neither superscription nor signature. I laughed at the quaint
message; but Holmes showed unwonted seriousness.

"Deviltry, Watson!" he remarked, and sat long with a clouded brow.

Late last night Mrs. Hudson, our landlady, brought up a message that
a gentleman wished to see Mr. Holmes, and that the matter was of the
utmost importance. Close at the heels of his messenger came Cecil
Barker, our friend of the moated Manor House. His face was drawn and
haggard.

"I've had bad news--terrible news, Mr. Holmes," said he.

"I feared as much," said Holmes.

"You have not had a cable, have you?"

"I have had a note from someone who has."

"It's poor Douglas. They tell me his name is Edwards; but he will always
be Jack Douglas of Benito Canon to me. I told you that they started
together for South Africa in the Palmyra three weeks ago."

"Exactly."

"The ship reached Cape Town last night. I received this cable from Mrs.
Douglas this morning:

"'Jack has been lost overboard in gale off St. Helena. No one knows how
accident occurred.'

"'IVY DOUGLAS.'"

"Ha! It came like that, did it?" said Holmes thoughtfully. "Well, I've
no doubt it was well stage-managed."

"You mean that you think there was no accident?"

"None in the world."

"He was murdered?"

"Surely!"

"So I think al