About nine o'clock the light among the trees was extinguished,

and all was dark in the direction of the Manor House. Two hours

passed slowly away, and then, suddenly, just at the stroke of

eleven, a single bright light shone out right in front of us.

"That is our signal," said Holmes, springing to his feet; "it

comes from the middle window."

As we passed out he exchanged a few words with the landlord,

explaining that we were going on a late visit to an acquaintance,

and that it was possible that we might spend the night there. A

moment later we were out on the dark road, a chill wind blowing

in our faces, and one yellow light twinkling in front of us

through the gloom to guide us on our sombre errand.

There was little difficulty in entering the grounds, for

unrepaired breaches gaped in the old park wall. Making our way

among the trees, we reached the lawn, crossed it, and were about

to enter through the window when out from a clump of laurel

bushes there darted what seemed to be a hideous and distorted

child, who threw itself upon the grass with writhing limbs and

then ran swiftly across the lawn into the darkness.

"My God!" I whispered; "did you see it?"

Holmes was for the moment as startled as I. His hand closed like

a vise upon my wrist in his agitation. Then he broke into a low

laugh and put his lips to my ear.

"It is a nice household," he murmured. "That is the baboon."

I had forgotten the strange pets which the doctor affected. There

was a cheetah, too; perhaps we might find it upon our shoulders

at any moment. I confess that I felt easier in my mind when,

after following Holmes's example and slipping off my shoes, I

found myself inside the bedroom. My companion noiselessly closed

the shutters, moved the lamp onto the table, and cast his eyes

round the room. All was as we had seen it in the daytime. Then

creeping up to me and making a trumpet of his hand, he whispered

into my ear again so gently that it was all that I could do to

distinguish the words:

"The least sound would be fatal to our plans."

I nodded to show that I had heard.

"We must sit without light. He would see it through the

ventilator."

I nodded again.

"Do not go asleep; your very life may depend upon it. Have your

pistol ready in case we should need it. I will sit on the side of

the bed, and you in that chair."

I took out my revolver and laid it on the corner of the table.

Holmes had brought up a long thin cane, and this he placed upon

the bed beside him. By it he laid the box of matches and the

stump of a candle. Then he turned down the lamp, and we were left

in darkness.

How shall I ever forget that dreadful vigil? I could not hear a

sound, not even the drawing of a breath, and yet I knew that my

companion sat open-eyed, within a few feet of me, in the same

state of nervous tension in which I was myself. The shutters cut

off the least ray of light, and we waited in absolute darkness.

From outside came the occasional cry of a night-bird, and once at

our very window a long drawn catlike whine, which told us that

the cheetah was indeed at liberty. Far away we could hear the

deep tones of the parish clock, which boomed out every quarter of

an hour. How long they seemed, those quarters! Twelve struck, and

one and two and three, and still we sat waiting silently for

whatever might befall.

Suddenly there was the momentary gleam of a light up in the

direction of the ventilator, which vanished immediately, but was

succeeded by a strong smell of burning oil and heated metal.

Someone in the next room had lit a dark-lantern. I heard a gentle

sound of movement, and then all was silent once more, though the

smell grew stronger. For half an hour I sat with straining ears.

Then suddenly another sound became audible--a very gentle,

soothing sound, like that of a small jet of steam escaping

continually from a kettle. The instant that we heard it, Holmes

sprang from the bed, struck a match, and lashed furiously with

his cane at the bell-pull.

"You see it, Watson?" he yelled. "You see it?"

But I saw nothing. At the moment when Holmes struck the light I

heard a low, clear whistle, but the sudden glare flashing into my

weary eyes made it impossible for me to tell what it was at which

my friend lashed so savagely. I could, however, see that his face

was deadly pale and filled with horror and loathing. He had

ceased to strike and was gazing up at the ventilator when

suddenly there broke from the silence of the night the most

horrible cry to which I have ever listened. It swelled up louder

and louder, a hoarse yell of pain and fear and anger all mingled

in the one dreadful shriek. They say that away down in the

village, and even in the distant parsonage, that cry raised the

sleepers from their beds. It struck cold to our hearts, and I

stood gazing at Holmes, and he at me, until the last echoes of it

had died away into the silence from which it rose.

"What can it mean?" I gasped.

"It means that it is all over," Holmes answered. "And perhaps,

after all, it is for the best. Take your pistol, and we will

enter Dr. Roylott's room."

With a grave face he lit the lamp and led the way down the

corridor. Twice he struck at the chamber door without any reply

from within. Then he turned the handle and entered, I at his

heels, with the cocked pistol in my hand.

It was a singular sight which met our eyes. On the table stood a

dark-lantern with the shutter half open, throwing a brilliant

beam of light upon the iron safe, the door of which was ajar.

Beside this table, on the wooden chair, sat Dr. Grimesby Roylott

clad in a long gray dressing-gown, his bare ankles protruding

beneath, and his feet thrust into red heelless Turkish slippers.

Across his lap lay the short stock with the long lash which we

had noticed during the day. His chin was cocked upward and his

eyes were fixed in a dreadful, rigid stare at the corner of the

ceiling. Round his brow he had a peculiar yellow band, with

brownish speckles, which seemed to be bound tightly round his

head. As we entered he made neither sound nor motion.

"The band! the speckled band!" whispered Holmes.