About six-oclock in the evening he reached Foxwood. It was the last day of his stay; on the following one he must depart for Paris. A servant-maid admitted him, and Hewitt came out of the dining-room. The mans face wore a look of surprise.
"I, who had sacrificed for you the Baronne de--"
He had sprung to his feet, and I stepped back, bracing myself for anattack, for the man was beside himself with rage. He may havesuspected me from the first; certainly this cross-examination hadshown him the truth; but it was clear that I could not hope to deceivehim. He dived his hand into a side-drawer and rummaged furiously. Thensomething struck upon his ear, for he stood listening intently."Ah!" he cried. "Ah!" and dashed into the room behind him.Two steps took me to the open door, and my mind will ever carry aclear picture of the scene within. The window leading out to thegarden was wide open. Beside it, looking like some terrible ghost, hishead girt with bloody bandages, his face drawn and white, stoodSherlock Holmes. The next instant he was through the gap, and I heardthe crash of his body among the laurel bushes outside. With a howl ofrage the master of the house rushed after him to the open window.And then! It was done in an instant, and yet I clearly saw it. Anarm- a womans arm- shot out from among the leaves. At the sameinstant the Baron uttered a horrible cry- a yell which will alwaysring in my memory. He clapped his two hands to his face and rushedround the room, beating his head horribly against the walls. Then hefell upon the carpet, rolling and writhing, while scream afterscream resounded through the house.