“It’s getting on my nerves, this business, Mr. Holmes,” said he, as he sank, like a wearied man, into an armchair.  “It’s bad enough to feel that you are surrounded by unseen, unknown folk, who have some kind of design upon you, but when, in addition to that, you know that it is just killing your wife by inches, then it becomes as much as flesh and blood can endure.  She’s wearing away under it—­just wearing away before my eyes.”

“Has she said anything yet?”

“No, Mr. Holmes, she has not.  And yet there have been times when the poor girl has wanted to speak, and yet could not quite bring herself to take the plunge.  I have tried to help her, but I daresay I did it clumsily, and scared her from it.  She has spoken about my old family, and our reputation in the county, and our pride in our unsullied honour, and I always felt it was leading to the point, but somehow it turned off before we got there.”

“But you have found out something for yourself?”

“A good deal, Mr. Holmes.  I have several fresh dancing-men pictures for you to examine, and, what is more important, I have seen the fellow.”

“What, the man who draws them?”

“Yes, I saw him at his work.  But I will tell you everything in order.  When I got back after my visit to you, the very first thing I saw next morning was a fresh crop of dancing men.  They had been drawn in chalk upon the black wooden door of the tool-house, which stands beside the lawn in full view of the front windows.  I took an exact copy, and here it is.”  He unfolded a paper and laid it upon the table.  Here is a copy of the hieroglyphics: 

GRAPHIC

“Excellent!” said Holmes.  “Excellent!  Pray continue.”

“When I had taken the copy, I rubbed out the marks, but, two mornings later, a fresh inscription had appeared.  I have a copy of it here:” 

GRAPHIC

Holmes rubbed his hands and chuckled with delight.

“Our material is rapidly accumulating,” said he.

“Three days later a message was left scrawled upon paper, and placed under a pebble upon the sundial.  Here it is.  The characters are, as you see, exactly the same as the last one.  After that I determined to lie in wait, so I got out my revolver and I sat up in my study, which overlooks the lawn and garden.  About two in the morning I was seated by the window, all being dark save for the moonlight outside, when I heard steps behind me, and there was my wife in her dressing-gown.  She implored me to come to bed.  I told her frankly that I wished to see who it was who played such absurd tricks upon us.  She answered that it was some senseless practical joke, and that I should not take any notice of it.

“’If it really annoys you, Hilton, we might go and travel, you and I, and so avoid this nuisance.’

“‘What, be driven out of our own house by a practical joker?’ said I.  ‘Why, we should have the whole county laughing at us.’