had not retired to rest, for my sister was troubled
by the smell of the strong Indian cigars which it
was his custom to smoke. She left her room, therefore,
and came into mine, where she sat for some
time, chatting about her approaching wedding. At
eleven o’clock she rose to leave me, but she paused
at the door and looked back.
“ ‘Tell me, Helen,’ said she, ‘have you ever heard
anyone whistle in the dead of the night?’
“ ‘Never,’ said I.
“ ‘I suppose that you could not possibly whistle,
yourself, in your sleep?’
“ ‘Certainly not. But why?’
“ ‘Because during the last few nights I have always,
about three in the morning, heard a low, clear
whistle. I am a light sleeper, and it has awakened
me. I cannot tell where it came from—perhaps from
the next room, perhaps from the lawn. I thought
that I would just ask you whether you had heard
it.’
“ ‘No, I have not. It must be those wretched
gipsies in the plantation.’
“ ‘Very likely. And yet if it were on the lawn, I
wonder that you did not hear it also.’
“ ‘Ah, but I sleep more heavily than you.’
“ ‘Well, it is of no great consequence, at any rate.’
She smiled back at me, closed my door, and a few
moments later I heard her key turn in the lock.”
“Indeed,” said Holmes. “Was it your custom
always to lock yourselves in at night?”
“Always.”
“And why?”
“I think that I mentioned to you that the doctor
kept a cheetah and a baboon. We had no feeling of
security unless our doors were locked.”
“Quite so. Pray proceed with your statement.”
“I could not sleep that night. A vague feeling
of impending misfortune impressed me. My sister
and I, you will recollect, were twins, and you
know how subtle are the links which bind two souls
which are so closely allied. It was a wild night. The
wind was howling outside, and the rain was beating
and splashing against the windows. Suddenly,
amid all the hubbub of the gale, there burst forth
the wild scream of a terrified woman. I knew that
it was my sister’s voice. I sprang from my bed,
wrapped a shawl round me, and rushed into the
corridor. As I opened my door I seemed to hear
a low whistle, such as my sister described, and a
few moments later a clanging sound, as if a mass
of metal had fallen. As I ran down the passage, my
sister’s door was unlocked, and revolved slowly
upon its hinges. I stared at it horror-stricken, not