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“It was early in April 1883. At this time I was living with Sherlock Holmes. We had rooms at 221B Baker Street.
One morning I woke up early. Holmes was standing by my bed. He was already dressed. I looked up at him in surprise. My clock showed that it was only seven. Holmes generally got up late.
“Very sorry to wake you up, Watson,” he said.
“What is it?” I asked. “A fire?”
“No. It is a young lady. She just came in. She says she must see me. It looks like an interesting case, Watson. I thought you would be interested.”
“My dear Holmes, I wouldn’t miss it for the world”, as I jumped excitedly out of bed.
I put on my clothes. In a few minutes I was ready. We went down to the sitting room.
A lady got to her feet. She was dressed in black. We saw that her face was gray. Her eyes looked like those of a hunted animal.
“Good morning,” said Holmes. “My name is Sherlock Holmes. And this is Dr. Watson. He is my dear friend. Please tell us everything. But first of all, you are shivering. Shall I order some hot coffee for you?”
“It is not cold that makes me shiver,” the young lady quietly responded.
“What is it then?” Holmes responded.
“It is fear, Mr Holmes. It is terror.” I could the fear in her eyes and noticed that even though she was only thirty, her hair was already started to turn grey.
“Do not fear my dear lady,” Holmes soothingly said, “you are quite safe. Please tell us your story.”
“My name is Helen Stoner,” said the lady. “I am living with my stepfather. His name is Dr. Grimesby Roylott. He is the last living Roylott. The Roylotts have been at Stoke Moran for hundreds of years.”
Holmes nodded. “I know the name,” said he.
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