The D'Arblay mystery

by R. Austin Freeman

It seemed a long journey, for one cannot progress very fast over soft mud with the water up to one’s armpits; but at last I reached the steps and managed to scramble up on to the tow-path. There I stood for a moment or two irresolute. My first impulse was to hurry back as fast as I could and seek the Morrises’ hospitality; for I was already chilled to the bone and felt as physically wretched as the proverbial cat in similar circumstances. But I was devoured by curiosity as to what had happened, and moreover I believed that I had dropped my stick on the quay. The latter consideration decided me, for it was a favourite stick, and I set out for the quay at a very different pace from that at which I had approached it the first time.

The mystery was solved long before I arrived at the quay; at least it was solved in part. For the derrick which had overhung the quay, now lay on the ground. Obviously it had fallen—and had missed my head only by a matter of inches. But how had it come to fall? Again, obviously, the guy-rope had given way. As it could not have broken, seeing that the derrick was unloaded and the rope must have been strong enough to bear the last load, I was a good deal puzzled as to how the accident could have befallen. Nor was I much less puzzled when I had made my inspection. The rope was, of course, unbroken and its “fall”—the part below the pulley-blocks—passed into the shed through a window-like hole. This I could see as I approached, and also that a door in the end of the shed nearest to me was ajar. Opening it, I plunged into the dark interior, and partly by touch and partly by the faint glimmer that came in at the window, I was able to make out the state of affairs. Just below the hole through which the rope entered was a large cleat, on which the fall must have been delayed. But the cleat was vacant, the rope hung down from the hole and its end lay in an untidy raffle on the floor. It looked as if it had been cast off the cleat; but as there had apparently been no one in the shed, the only possible supposition was that the rope had been badly secured, that it had gradually worked loose and had at last slipped off the cleat. But it was difficult to understand how it had slipped right off.

I found my stick lying at the edge of the quay and close by it my pipe. Having recovered these treasures, I set off to retrace my steps along the tow-path, sped on my way by a jovial chorus from the sloop. A very few minutes brought me to the steps, which I ascended two at a time, and then, having traversed the alley, I came out sheepishly into Market-street. To my relief, I saw a light in Mr. Morris’ shop, and could even make out a moving figure in the background. I hurried across, and, opening the glazed door, entered the shop, at the back of which Mr Morris was seated at a bench filing some small object which was fixed in a vice. He looked round at me with no great cordiality, but suddenly observing my condition, he dropped his file on the bench, and exclaimed:

“Good Lord, Doctor! What on earth have you been doing?”

“Nothing on earth,” I replied, with a feeble grin, “but something in the water. I’ve been into the canal.”

“But what for?” he demanded.

“Oh, I didn’t go in intentionally,” I replied; and then I gave him a sketch of the incident, as short as I could make it, for my teeth were chattering and explanations were chilly work. However, he rose nobly to the occasion. “You’ll catch your death of cold!” he exclaimed, starting up. “Come in here, and slip off your things at once, while I go for some blankets.”

He led me into a little den behind the shop, and, having lighted a gas fire, went out by a back door. I lost no time in peeling off my dripping clothes, and by the time that he returned I was in a state in which I ought to have been when I took my plunge.

“Here you are,” said he. “Put on this dressing-gown and wrap yourself in the blankets. We’ll draw this chair up to the fire, and then you will be all right for the present.”

I followed his directions, pouring out my thanks as well as my chattering teeth would let me.