Sherlock Holmes - The Blanched Soldier

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From London we present The Blanche Soldier.

A play for radio by Michael Hardwick based on the short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

The Blanche Soldier.

For a long time my friend Watson has wanted me to write down an experience of my own.

I have often had occasion to point out to him how superficial are his own accounts

and to accuse him of pandering to popular taste instead of confining himself rigidly to facts and figures.

Try it yourself, Holmes, he's retorted.

And yes, I'm compelled to admit I do begin to realize that the method must be presented in an interesting way.

I find from my notebook that it was just at that time, January 19th,

soon after the conclusion of the War War, that I had a visit from a certain Mr. James and Doyle.

It is my headache to sit with my debt to the window and to place my visitors in the opposite chair where the light falls full upon them.

Mr. James and Doyle seem somewhat of a loss how to begin the interview,

so I gave him some of my conclusions.

From South Africa's eye, I perceive.

Oh, why, yes sir.

Imperial Yermenre, I think.

Exactly.

The middle six, no doubt.

Mr. Holmes, you're on a wizard.

When the gentleman of Virile appeared and sent us my room,

but such a tan upon his face as an English song could never give,

and with his handkerchief in his sleeve instead of in his pocket,

it is not difficult to place him.

You wear a short beard which shows that you were not a regular.

You have the cut to the riding man.

Rest of middle sex.

Your card has already shown me that you are a stopper.

Go from floating mountain street.

What other regiment could you enjoy?

You see everything.

I see no more than you, but I have trained myself to notice what I see.

I have a Mr. Dodd, it was not to discuss the science of observation

that you pulled upon me this morning.

What has been happening at Tux-Brill Park?

Mr. Holmes, how?

My idea, sir.

There is no mystery.

Your letter came with that heading.

As you fixed the appointment in very pressing terms,

it was clear that something sudden and important had occurred

during your visit there.

Yes, indeed.

But a good deal has happened since that letter was written.

If Colonel Emsworth hadn't kicked me out, I'd kicked you out.

Perhaps Mr. Dodd, you would explain what you're talking about.

Right.

I'd got into the way of supposing that you knew everything without being told.

But I would give you the facts.

And I hope you'll be able to tell me what they mean.

Then trade proceed.

Colonel Emsworth was the cry of me and V.C., you know.

Oh, yes.

Yes.

Well, when I joined up in 1901, young Goddry, his only son, joined the same squadron.

Well, we formed the kind of friendship you can only make when you both live the same life

and share the same joys and sorrows.

We took the rough and the smooth together through a year of fighting.

Then, outside Pretoria, he was wounded in the shoulder.

I got one letter from the hospital to Cape Town and one from Southampton.

Since then, not a word.

Not one word, Mr. Holmes, for six months or more.

And he was my closest pal.

And what then?

When the war was over, we all got back.

I wrote to his father, and I spoke of the walls.

No answer.

I wasted a bit and wrote again.

This time, I had to reply short and rough.

Goddry had gone on a void round the world.

And it wasn't that clear that he'd be back for a year.

Well, Mr. Holmes, I wasn't satisfied.

The whole thing seemed so damned unnatural.

I wasn't like him to drop a pal in such a manner.

What did you do?

Well, my own affairs took quite a time to straighten out, so I had been able to do anything about it

till this week.

My first move was to go down to his home, Tuxbury Old Park.

I had to walk five miles from the station, and it was nearly dark when I got there.

But it iterates, when I told the Old Butler my business, he went away,

and then came back and served me straight into Colonel M'sworth's study.

Well, sir, I should be interested to know the reasons for this visit.

I explained to him my letter, sir.

I knew Goddry in Africa.

Yes, yes, I knew that.

Of course, we've only your word for it.

Oh, I have his letters to me in my pocket.

Kindly let me see them.

We were the closest to friends, sir.

Is it not natural that I should wonder at his sudden silence?

And wish to know what has become of him?

I have some recollection, sir, that I had already explained that in replying to your letters.

He's gone upon a voyage around the world.

His health was in a poor way after his African experiences,

and I was of the opinion that complete rest and change when he did.

Kindly pass that explanation on to any other friends who may be interested in the matter.

Certainly.

But perhaps you would have the goodness to let me have the name of the steamer and the shipping line.

I have no doubt I should be able to get a letter through to him.

Many people, Mr. Dobb, would take offense at your infernal pertenacity.

They would consider this insistence to have reached the point of damn ignorance.

And you must put it down to my real love for your son.

Mr. Dobb, I have already made every allowance upon that score.

I must ask you however to drop these inquiries.

But why, sir?

Every family has its own inner knowledge and its own motives.

They can't always be made clear to outsiders, however well-intentioned.

I would ask you to let the present end the future alone.

And now, sir, you have gone a long way, and you are welcome to stay the night here.

My daughter Ralph will seat your needs,

and I get eight o'clock.

Amit?

You've been found, sir.

I just brought you some more colds.

A bit of cold, did you, sir?

Hi, Ralph.

There, sir.

Now, sir, will there be anything more tonight?

Oh, no, Ralph, that's all thanks.

Oh, before you go, is this one thing?

Sir.

You've been in service here for a long time, as well.

Oh, yes, sir.

Me and the Mrs. Both.

And you've known Master Gottfried for many years.

No.

Yes, sir.

My Mrs. Nürsteen.

You could say, in a manner of speaking, I miss Foster Father.

Early.

Well, I can tell you, you'd both been very proud to see him inside Africa.

He bore himself well, sir.

I understand.

No braver man in the regiment.

He pulled me out once from under Boer's rifles.

Or maybe I shouldn't be here now.

Yes, yes.

That's Master Gottfried.

Carissa, why there's not a tree in this park he hadn't climbed.

Nothing would stop him.

He was a fine boy all right.

And he was a fine man, sir.

Was.

You say he was.

Look here.

What gives all this mystery about to it?

What has become of Gottfried Empress?

I don't know what you mean, sir.

Ask the Master about Master Gottfried.

It's not for me to interfere.

Let go of me, please, sir.

How doesn't it be rough?

You're going to answer one question before you leave this room if I have to hold you all night.

Is Gottfried Empress dead?

I wish he was, sir.

I wish to God he was.

Well, after that, I've seen apparently one interpretation with the host.

My poor friend had evidently become involved in something criminal.

At the least, something disreputable that had touched the family honor.

His stern old father has sent me away for fear of some scandal coming to light.

Well, that was what I thought just then.

Your problem presents some very unusual features, Mr. Dad.

They continue.

For after Butler had gone, I must have stood there pondering all this for some time.

Then something made me look up.

And there was Gottfried Empress.

In the room?

No, he was outside the window.

It was a ground floor room.

I let the curtains open.

And there he was looking at me through the glass.

He was deadly pale.

I've never seen a man so white.

I reckon ghosts may look like that.

But his eyes met mine.

They were the eyes of a living man.

If he'd given any sign, when he saw me looking at him, he sprang back into a darkness.

Mr. Holmes, there was something shocking about that man.

He wasn't just that ghastly face.

It was something, something swinking and firtier, something guilty.

He left a feeling of horror in my mind.

I assume, however, that when a man has been soldiering a year or two with brother Boers,

his drainage, he keeps his nerve, and that's quickly, exactly.

My Gottfried hardly vanished before I was out of that window.

I ran down the garden path and the way I thought he might have gone.

It seemed to me that something was moving ahead of me.

I called his name.

There was no use.

When I got to the end of the path, there were several others branching in different directions

to some outhouses.

But as I stood there hesitating, I distinctly heard the sound of a closing door.

It wasn't behind me in the house.

It was somewhere ahead in the darkness.

I knew then, Mr. Holmes, that what I'd seen was no vision.

Well, then, Mr. Dodd, what else did you do?

It's nothing more than I could do.

I spent none easy night trying to find some theory to cover the fact.

The next day, I found the Colonel rather more conciliatory.

His wife remarked that there were some places of interest in the neighborhood,

and I saw an opening to ask that I might stay there one more night.

Somewhat, grudgingly, he agreed, which gave you a clear day in which to make your observation.

Yes.

I felt I must explore the garden and see what I could find.

There were several small outhouses, but at the end of the garden,

there was an attached building of some size.

It was heavily curtoned.

I wondered if this could have been the place the sound of that shutting door to come from.

I approached in a careless fashion, storing agency,

and as I did so, a small, dead-ed man, a black coat and a bowler had came out of the door.

He locked it after him.

Then he looked at me with some surprise.

Good day, son.

Good day.

Are you...?

Are you a visitor here?

Yes, I am.

My name is Dodd.

James M. Dodd.

I see.

I have an old army charm of Mr. Gottfried M. Smith's.

I came hoping to see him.

What a pity that he should be away on his travels.

He would have been pleased to see you, no doubt, Mr. Dodd.

His travels, exactly.

Well, good day, dear son.

No doubt you will resume your visit at some more propitious time.

Good day, son.

He passed on.

When I turned, I observed that he was standing watching me half concealed by some laurels

at the far end of the garden.

So I strolled back to the house and waited for night.

As soon as everyone had retired and everything was dark and quiet,

I slipped out of my window and made my way as silently as possible to a mysterious lodge.

The curtains were still drawn, but now there were shutters up as well.

Even so, there was some light coming through at one place.

I found I could see inside the room.

I saw the little man I'd seen that morning.

He was smoking a pipe and reading a paper.

I tried to see more of the room, but just then.

So you become a spy, have you?

Oh, that's what I'm talking about.

Kindly follow me back to the house, Sam.

There is a train to London at 8.30 in the morning.

Sir, finally, matter will not bear discussion.

You've made a most damnable intrusion into the privacy of our family.

You were here as a guest, and you become a spy.

I'd nothing more to say, sir, say that I have no wish ever to see you again.

Very well, Colonel Emforth.

I've seen your son, and I'm convinced that for some reason if you're own,

you are concealing him from the world.

I've no idea what your motives are in cutting him off in this fashion,

but I'm sure he's no longer a free agent, and I won't return.

But until I'm assured of the safety of the well-being of my friend,

I shall never disistant my efforts to get the bottom of this mystery.

However, he didn't attack me, Mr. Holmes.

But there was nothing for it, but to take the appointed train,

after writing first, to ask you to see me.

Mr. Dodd, there's servants.

Now, how many were there in the house?

Well, to the best of my belief, there were only the old butter and swifes.

The family seemed to live in the simplest fashion.

There was no servant then in the detached house.

No.

Unless the little man with a beard acted as such,

he seemed to be quite a superior person.

You mentioned seeing him sitting by the fire reading a paper.

What paper was it?

Well, cannot matter.

It could be most essential.

Really took no notice.

And possibly you observed whether it was a broadleaf paper

or a bit smaller type, which one associates with weekdays.

Since you mentioned it, he wasn't very large.

Very well.

Now, had you any indication that food was conveyed

from the one house to the other?

Well, I did steal Ralph, carrying a basket down the garden walk,

and going in the direction of this house.

Did you make it a local empire?

Yes, I did.

I spoke to the station master and the innkeeper.

I simply asked to send you anything of my old comet, God for you.

Both of them are sure of me that he gone for a voyage.

And the world.

You said nothing of your suspicion.

Nothing.

Yet you said that you had seen your friend's face quite clearly at the window.

So clearly that you're sure of his identity?

I have no doubt about it, whatever.

The lamp light shone full upon him.

It couldn't have been someone resembling.

No, no, no.

Hey, but you say he was changed.

But in color, his face was...

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Sherlock Holmes - The Blanched Soldier

About this Episode

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