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“The family was at one time among the richest in England, but at present only a few acres of land and an old house are left. The last squire lived the horrible life of a poor aristocrat; but his only son, my stepfather took a medical degree and went to India, where, by his professional skill and his force of character, he established a large practice. In a fit of anger, however, he beat his native servant to death and went to prison. After that he returned to England a gloomy and disappointed man.

“When Dr. Roylott was in India he married my mother, Mrs. Stoner, the young widow. My sister Julia and I were twins, and we were only two years old at the time of my mother’s second marriage. She had a considerable sum of money and all this she left to Dr. Roylott while we lived with him, but a certain sum should be paid to each of us every year in the event of our marriage. After our return to England my mother died – she was killed eight years ago in a railway accident. Dr. Roylott then left London and took us to live with him in the old house at Stoke Moran. The money which my mother had left was enough for all our wants, and it seemed we could be happy.

“But a terrible change occurred to our stepfather at this time. Instead of making friends with our neighbours, who at first were happy to see a Roylott back in Stoke Moran, he shut himself up in his house. When he seldom came out, he started quarrels with anyone whom he met. A number of horrible quarrels occurred, two of which ended in the court, until at last he became the terror of the village, and the people hid at his approach, for he is a man of great strength in his terrible fits of anger.

“He has no friends at all except gypsies, and he allows them to stay in the park near the house. He loves also Indian animals, and he has at this moment a cheetah and a baboon, which go freely over the park and are feared by the people of the village almost as much as their master.

“You can imagine from what I say that my poor sister Julia and I had no great pleasure in our lives. No servant stayed with us, and for a long time we did all the work of the house. She was thirty at the time of her death, but her hair was turning gray like mine.”

“Your sister is dead, then?”

“She died two years ago, and it is of her death that I wish to speak to you. You can understand that, living the life which I have described, we saw very few people. We had, however, an aunt, who we were allowed to visit. Julia went there at Christmas two years ago, and met there a young officer, to whom she became engaged. My stepfather learned of the engagement when my sister returned and did not say anything against the marriage; but two weeks before the wedding, the terrible event occurred and I lost my only companion.”

Sherlock Holmes had been sitting in his chair with his eyes closed, but now he glanced at his visitor.

“Please give us all the details,” said he.

“It is easy for me to do so, for I remember every event of that time. The house is, as I have already said, very old, and only the bedrooms are on the ground floor. Of these bedrooms the first is Dr. Roylott’s, the second is my sister’s, and the third is my own. There are no doors between them, but they all open out into the same corridor.