‘‘The following morning, however, it happened that I awoke earlier than usual, and when I rose from my bed and drew back the curtains, my eye was at once drawn to the sundial, for I saw that upon the top of it there lay what appeared to be a piece of paper, held in place by a couple of small stones. I dressed hurriedly and ran downstairs and out into the garden, keen to see what it could be. When I reached the sundial, however, I received a great shock, for there was neither paper nor anything else upon the top of it, nor any sign that there ever had been. My suggestion to Edwin that he had simply imagined those things he thought he had seen was thus turned back upon myself, for it seemed the only explanation was that I must have imagined the paper I thought I had seen upon the sundial. Then I saw that upon the path at my feet were two small stones, larger than the gravel on which they lay, and of a slightly different colour. In an instant I was convinced that these were the stones I had seen upon the paper when I had looked from my bedroom window. Someone, it seemed, had removed the paper from the sundial while I was dressing.

“I did not mention this incident to Edwin, as I did not wish to alarm him, and I knew that he would believe that his ‘witch’ had left some magic spell upon the sundial in the garden, but I determined that I would henceforth keep my eyes and ears open in case there were any repeat of this mysterious incident. For two weeks I neither saw nor heard anything untoward, then one night I was awakened by some noise or other. On a sudden impulse I drew back the bedroom curtain and looked out into the garden. It was a bright, moonlit night, and the ornamental bushes were throwing strong shadows across the lawns. Even as I looked, I saw a figure – an old crone – emerge from the deep shadow of a tall hedge and cross the lawn with a crooked, halting gait, until she reached the sundial. For some time, she remained motionless, her back bent over the sundial. What she was doing there, I could not see. Then, in the same furtive, shuffling manner, she returned whence she had come. I strained my eyes then, to see if any paper had been left upon the sundial, but clouds had now obscured the moon and it was too dark to see.”

“One moment,” interrupted Holmes. “Did you think this person in the garden was anyone you had ever seen before?”

“I think not, but I could not be certain on the point. My bedroom window was some distance off, and the figure was very hunched over, with her face turned away. Her appearance, as Edwin had said, was very like that of a witch in a storybook.”

“Very well. Pray, continue!”

“In the morning I was tired and slept late. But when the events of the night came back to me, I sprang at once from my bed and peered from the window. There upon the sundial was a small sheet of white paper. At that very moment, however, before I had moved from the window, someone emerged from the house and crossed the terrace directly to the sundial. It was Captain Legbourne Legge. I watched as he took up the sheet of paper and cast to the ground the stones that had lain upon it. Then he turned and returned to the house, studying the paper as he went.”

“From where had he come?” asked Holmes.

“The morning room. It has a French window which gives directly onto the terrace.”

“Were you able to learn any more of this mysterious business?”

Miss Borrow shook her head. “No reference was made to it in my hearing, and I dared not bring the matter up myself.”

“Has there been any repeat of this occurrence?”

“I do not know. There may have been, but I have seen nothing. But other things have occurred.”

“The details, please, Miss Borrow – but you must speak quickly, for the time at our disposal is rapidly flying by! You mentioned in your letter that your brother had nearly been killed. What did you mean by that?”

“I mentioned to you that under Mr Theakston’s kindly guidance, Edwin and I had often made expeditions to all parts of the East Harrington estate when the weather permitted it. Mr Theakston’s departure was followed by a period of very wet weather, and we were confined to the house for several weeks, but as the weather brightened up, we enjoyed rambling about the countryside once more whenever we could, and Edwin began to take himself off for solitary ‘explorations’, as he called them. I saw no harm in this and did not give it a second thought. But when Mr Hartley Lessingham learned of Edwin’s expeditions, he became very angry.

“‘You must not go off alone, do you hear?’ cried he one day, his voice quivering with rage. ‘It is not acceptable when you disappear for hours at a time and no one knows where you are! Why, anything might happen! And, in particular, you must never again go near the river or the mill! They are very dangerous places, and are not for disobedient, stupid little boys! You disobey me again, and I shall give you such a good hiding that you will not sit down for a month! Do you hear?’

“I had never before seen our guardian so angry with Edwin. His face had turned purple, as Edwin’s had turned white with fear, and I thought he would strike him. But then, with a horrible oath, he turned on his heel, stamped into the library and slammed the door shut behind him.”

“One moment,” interrupted Holmes. “The mill he mentioned – is it the same one as your guardian and Mr Theakston were discussing on the evening of the latter’s departure? Dedstone Mill, I believe you called it.”

Miss Borrow nodded her head. “That is correct,” replied she. “It is a huge watermill, which stands beside the river, about three miles from East Harrington. It is the property of Mr Hartley Lessingham. It used to bring him a good income, so I understand, especially as his tenants were all obliged under the terms of their leases to send their grain there. This caused some ill-feeling, for the mill was old and dilapidated, dangerously so many said, and the machinery was constantly breaking down. It has needed repairing for many years, but nothing has ever been done to it. There have been many complaints in recent years of wasted grain, either through spillage or attack by mould. The situation was perhaps exacerbated by the fact that there is a rival mill at Ollington, just eight miles away. It is very modern, and everyone says how much better it is; and not only is it better, it is also cheaper.”

“You appear to be remarkably well informed on the matter.”

“I have overheard things. Besides, it would be difficult not to be well informed, for it is one of the leading topics of conversation in the district. Several times Mr Hartley Lessingham’s tenants have come to ask him if they might use the mill at Ollington for some, at least, of their grain, but he would not hear of it. Nor would he authorize any improvements to be made to the mill at Dedstone. Matters came to a head about a year ago. One night a fire broke out in the mill, which destroyed part of the building, including some of the machinery, and rendered it unusable. My guardian was furious, declaring that the fire had been started deliberately and he would have the culprits hanged, but no evidence could be found to suggest who might have been responsible. Since then the mill has stood idle, becoming more dilapidated and dangerous with every week that has passed.”

“The local farmers now use the mill at Ollington, presumably,” interposed Holmes.

Miss Borrow nodded. “Mr Hartley Lessingham could not deny them that right. But he has insisted that they pay him a fee for the privilege, that fee being the difference between what he would have charged them for using the mill at Dedstone and the lower amount they are charged at Ollington. He says the money will be used for the repair work necessary at Dedstone Mill, but no repair work has so far been undertaken.”

“So of course, there is still resentment,” said Holmes. “But why should your tutor, Mr Theakston, have been discussing the matter with Mr Hartley Lessingham, I wonder? This was in the spring, you say?”