notice here. I will turn the facts over in my mid, Mr,
Tregennis, and should anything occur to me I will certainly
ommunicate with you and the vicar. In the meantime I wish you
both good-morning."

It was not until long after we were back in Poldhu Cottage that
Holmes broke his complete and absorbed silence. He sat coiled in
his armchair, his haggard and ascetic face hardly visible amid
the blue swirl of his tobacco smoke, his black brows drawn down,
his forehead contracted, his eyes vacant and far away. Finally
he laid down his pipe and sprang to his feet.

"It won't do, Watson!" said he with a laugh. "Let us walk along
the cliffs together and search for flint arrows. We are more
likely to find them than clues to this problem. To let the brain
work without sufficient material is like racing an engine. It
racks itself to pieces. The sea air, sunshine, and patience,
Watson--all else will come.

"Now, let us calmly define our position, Watson," he continued as
we skirted the cliffs together. "Let us get a firm grip of the
very little which we DO know, so that when fresh facts arise we
may be ready to fit them into their places. I take it, in the
first place, that neither of us is prepared to admit diabolical
intrusions into the affairs of men. Let us begin by ruling that
entirely out of our minds. Very good. There remain three
persons who have been grievously stricken by some conscious or
unconscious human agency. That is firm ground. Now, when did
this occur? Evidently, assuming his narrative to be true, it was
immediately after Mr. Mortimer Tregennis had left the room. That