Sherlock Holmes - The Blanched Soldier

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.

Prior to your so firm, 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 Dodd.

It is my headache to sit with my dad to the window and to place my visitors in the opposite

chair where the light falls full upon them.

Mr. James and Dodd 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-Yermenry, 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 son 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 righty man, best Middle-Six, your card has already shown me that you

are a stop-broker from the Flog 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, but Mr. Dodd, it was not to discuss the science of observation that you called upon

me this morning.

What has been happening at Tuxbury Old Park?

Mr. Holmes, how?

My idea, sir.

There is no mystery.

Your letter came with that heading.

As you fixed the disappointment in very pressing terms, it was clear that something sudden

and important had occurred during your visit there.

It was indeed.

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

If Colonel M's world hadn't kicked me out, I'd kicked you out.

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

Well, I got into the way of supposing that you knew everything without being told.

But I will give you the facts, and I hope you'll be able to tell me what they mean.

Then prayed to receive.

Colonel M's world was the cry of me and V.C., you know?

Oh, yes.

Yes.

And 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 smooth together through a year of fighting.

Then outside Pretoria, he was wounded in the shoulder.

I got one letter from the hospital that came down, 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.

Ed got dead.

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.

God be gone on a void round the world, and it wasn't that clear that he'd be back for

a year.

Though Mr. Holmes, I wasn't satisfied.

I hope things seemed so damned unnatural.

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

What did you do?

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, Tux Bray 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 battle and my business, he went away, and then came

back and served me straight into Colonel M. Swell's study.

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

I explained to him in my letter, sir.

I knew Godfrey in Africa.

Yes, yes, I knew that.

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

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

Kindly let me see them.

Hmm.

We were the closest of friends, sir.

Is it not natural that I should wander 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 he 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 a fence at your infernal pertenacity.

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

And you must put it down to my real love, 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 I'll say you have gone a long way, and you are welcome to stay the night here.

My daughter Ralph will seat your needs, without a day to block.

Come in, you big partnership.

I just brought you some more coals, bitter coals which he said, hi, Ralph.

There, sir.

Now, sir, will there be anything more tonight?

Oh, no Ralph, that's all thanks.

Oh, before you go, there's just one thing.

Sir, you've been in service here for a long time, I suppose.

Oh, yes, sir.

Me and the miss is both.

And you've known Master Godfrey for many years.

No, lest you so, my miss is nursing.

You could say in a manner of speaking, I miss foster father.

Fairly.

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

He bore himself well, sir, I understand.

No brave man in the regiment.

He pulled me out once from out of the borne rifles.

Or maybe I shouldn't be here now.

Yes, yes, that's Master Godfrey.

Curricent, 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 is all this mystery about to it?

What has become of Godfrey, I don't know what you mean, sir?

Ask the Master about Master Godfrey.

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 Godfrey ends with dead?

I wish he was, sir.

I wish to God he was.

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

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 had 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.

I'll 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 Godfrey ends with.

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.

Desires met mine.

There were the eyes of a living man.

He'd be given inside when he saw me looking at him.

He sprang back into 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 claim it, he keeps his nerve, and that's quickly, exactly.

My Godfrey has 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 care 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 then I did so a small, bedded man, a black coat, and a bowl of hat 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'm an old army charm of Mr. Godfrey, 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 to you, son.

No doubt you will resume your visit at some more proficious 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 sipped 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'd become a spy, have you?

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

Kindly follow me back to the house, Sam.

There's a train to London at 8.30 in the morning.

Sir, finally.

Not a 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've become a spy.

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

Very well, Colonel Enthruth.

Well, 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 motive is on, and 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 just assist in 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 for seeing me.

Mr. Dodd, the 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 dead catch-touse.

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, can that matter?

It could be most essential.

Really took no notice.

And possibly you observed whether it was a broad-leafed paper

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

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, I was with.

Both of them assured me that he gone for a voyage and a world.

You said nothing of your suspicion.

Nothing.

Yet you said that you would see 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.

It was he.

But you say he was changed, only in color.

His face was outside his brow, as it was of a fish-belly whiteness.

It was bleached.

In patches?

Well, it was his brow that I saw so clearly.

It was pressed against the window.

Very well, Mr. Dodd.

The matter should certainly be inquired into.

I will go back with you to a tuxtail part, today.

Well, as it happens, I'm carrying up another matter at the moment.

Let's say the beginning of next week.

I should be ready whenever you are, Mr. Holmes.

Oh, I should also ask an old friend of mine to accompany us.

It is possible that his presence may be entirely unnecessary.

On the other hand, it may be essential.

The narratives that my friend Watson has shown no doubt that I do not waste words

or disclose my false file cases under consideration.

In fact, my case was practically complete.

When we arrived at the strange old, rammed-ing house,

I asked the elderly friend who'd accompanied us to remain in the carriage

unless we should summon him.

I had not introduced him to Dodd, who seemed surprised,

but asked no questions.

The old Butler Ralph opened the door to us.

He wore the conventional costume of black coat and pepper and sore trousers,

with only one curious variant.

He had on brown leather gloves.

He shuffled them off at the sight of us,

laying them down on the whole table.

I have as Watson may sometimes have remarked

and have normally a cute set of senses,

and a faint but incisive smell was apparent.

I could try to drop my hat to the floor,

and in picking it up brought my nose within a foot of the gloves.

A curious, tarry odour was oozing from me.

My case was complete at last.

Mr. Dodd and Mr. Sherlock Holmes, to see you, sir.

Or who the devil told you to do?

What is the meaning of this?

You, sir.

Have I not told you you infernal busybody?

Never to dare show your damned face here again.

If you choose to enter here without my leave,

I shall be within my rights if I use violence.

As to you, Mr. Holmes, I extend the same warm into you.

I am familiar with your noble profession.

Ralph telephone of once to the county police

asked the inspector to send up two constables.

Tell him that there are burglars in the house.

One moment, you must be aware, Mr. Dodd.

The Colonel M's work is within his right.

On the other hand, he should recognize

that your action is prompted entirely

by solicitude for his son.

I venture to hope that if I were allowed to have

five minutes conversation with Colonel M's work,

I could certainly alter his view of the matter.

What the devil you waiting for Ralph?

Ring the police, I say.

Goring, sir.

Nothing of the sort.

Any police in the appearance

will bring about the very capacity of your greatest.

Hand away from that daughter.

Colonel M's work.

On this page of my notebook,

I am writing just one word.

Here you are, sir.

Very read it.

And you will know what has brought us here.

What?

How?

How did you know this?

It is my business to know things.

That is my trade.

Then you forced my hand.

If you wish to see Godfrey, you shall.

But this is your doing, not mine.

Mr. Holmes, what does this mean?

You shall soon see Mr. Dodd.

Ralph, sir, go down to the garden house

and tell Mr. Godfrey and Mr. Kent

that in five minutes we shall be with them.

Very good, sir.

Very good.

But this is very sudden, Colonel M's work is

will disarrain to all our plan.

I cannot help it, Kent.

Our hands have been forced.

Can Mr. Godfrey see us now?

Yes, he is waiting inside.

Follow me, gentlemen.

Godfrey, oh man.

Don't touch me, Jimmy.

Don't come near.

Yes, you may well stare.

I don't quite look smart enough

to be squadron now.

Do I?

What happened?

Those white patches on your skin.

That's why I took court visitors.

But you've seen the heavy at a disadvantage.

I came down to see if all was well with you.

That night you looked into my window.

Oh, Ralph told me you were there.

I couldn't resist taking a peek.

After you ran away, I couldn't let the matter rest.

I asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes here to help.

Oh, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, eh?

Well, Mr. Holmes, you may as well hear my story too.

If you please, Mr. Ensler.

Do I take long to tell?

Do you remember, Jimmy,

that morning fight outside Pretoria on the eastern railway line?

You heard, I was hit.

Yes, I heard about it.

I never got particular.

Three of us got separated from the rest.

All is Simpson-Henson and I.

The other two were killed.

I got a bullet from my shoulder.

I stuck on my horse, though, and he got up several miles

with me before I must have rolled off in a faint.

When I came to it, it was night.

It was deadly cold.

Do you remember that kind of numb cold just covered in it?

I do.

Deadly.

It was a building nearby.

I knew my only hope was to reach it.

I had dim memory of staggering there.

There was a large room with many beds in it.

I just fell on to one of them and passed out.

Look at you.

Was it?

When I woke in the morning,

it was as though I'd passed from a world of sanity into a nightmare.

Standing in front of me was a dwarf-like man

where a huge bulb was heard.

He was jabbering in touch and waving.

His hands.

They were like horrible drums, sponges.

There were others behind him watching him.

And as I looked at them, I realized that not one of them

was a normal human being.

Everyone was twisted or swirled in or just figured in some way.

And they were laughing at me.

God, I can hear them now.

Well, then that little beast,

ladies horrible-deformed hands on me,

and began turning me off the bed.

My wound was bleeding, but he went on.

He was as strong as a bull.

I don't know what he was going to do,

but an elderly man suddenly came in and shouted an order

and dutched in the little monster-moot way.

This is fantastic.

It's only too true.

Well, the elderly man spoke to me in English.

I'm a doctor, he said.

That shoulder of yours once fixing out quickly,

but man alive, do you know where you are?

Oh.

A hospital?

I said.

Yes, he said.

The leper hospital.

You're lying in a leper's bed.

Oh, God.

Now you have the truth, Mr. Dodd.

Thanks to the British of God,

that was in the General Hospital

of Pretoria within a week.

Apart from my show, do I seem to be all right?

It wasn't until they got me home,

and I came here with these terrible signs

began to appear on my face.

I knew then that I hadn't escaped.

What was I to do, Mr. Dodd?

We had two servings, we could trust completely.

There was this house where he could live.

Mr. Kent here, he's a surgeon,

was prepared to stay in care for him in secret.

Yes, but why?

Surely a hospital?

Don't you see it would have meant segregation

for the rest of his life?

To live forever amongst strangers

without any hope of release.

Even in these quiet paths, if one word had got out,

he would have been dragged away to that.

Even you had to be kept a little dark, Jimmy.

But what I don't understand, Father,

is why you've related now.

It was Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who forced my hand

with this scrap of paper.

He wrote one word on it, leprosy.

After that, I realized that if he knew so much,

it was safer that he should know it all.

So it was.

And who knows but good may come of it.

How?

I understand that only you, Mr. Kent,

have attended the patient.

There I asked if you are in a authority

on such tropical or semi-tropical complaints?

I have the ordinary knowledge

of the educated medical man.

I have no doubts that you are fully competent.

But I'm sure you will agree that in such a case,

a second opinion is valuable.

It would have meant pressure being put on us

to segregate him.

I foresaw this situation.

And I brought for this friend,

whose discretion may be absolutely trusted.

I was able once to do it in a professional service,

and he is ready to advise as a friend,

rather than as a specialist.

His name is Mr. James Sombers.

Mr. James?

He is a present at the carriage outside the door.

And I should be proud, Mr. Holmes.

Good.

I will ask him to step this way.

The meanwhile, Colonel Innsworth,

we may perhaps assemble in your study.

My invariable process starts upon the supposition

that when you have eliminated all that,

which is impossible,

then whatever remains, however improbable,

must be the proof.

At this case was first presented to make

there were three possible explanations

of this occlusion or incarceration

of this gentleman in the north house of this father's mansion.

There was the possibility that he was

confiding for a crime,

or that he was mad, and they wished to avoid an asylum,

or that he had some disease,

which caused his segregation.

I could think of no other adequate explanations.

The criminal's illusion would not bear inspection.

No unsolved crime had been reported from this district.

If it was some crime not yet discovered,

then clearly it would be to the families

interest to send the delinquent abroad

rather than keep it in concealed at home.

In sanity it was more closing.

What's that?

The presence of the second person in the outhouse

suggested a keeper,

the fact that he locked the door

when he came out strengthens supposition.

On the other hand, this constraint could not be severe,

or the young man could not have got loose

to have a look at his friend.

You will remember Mr. Dog that I felt wrong for point.

As such, I was asking me about the pegman

as to can to be reading.

You were being optimistic there, Mr. Holmes.

Had it been a medical paper, it would have helped me.

It is no illegal to keep a lunatic

upon private premises,

so long as there is a qualified person in attendance

and the authorities have been notified.

Then why all this desperate desire for secrecy?

So you had no theory to fit the facts again.

There remained a fair possibility.

Rare, and unlikely as it was,

everything seemed to fit into it.

Leprecy is not uncommon in South Africa.

Bleaching of the skin is a common result of the disease.

By some extraordinary chance, this youth might have contracted it.

His people would be placed in a very dreadful position

since they would desire to save him from segregation.

Great secrecy would be needed,

but he could be allowed some freedom after dark.

A divergent medical man, if sufficient to pay,

would easily be found to take care of it.

You have thought this case was the strongest of the spree.

In fact, so strong that I determined to act

as if it were actually proved.

When I arrived here, noticed that the gloves worn by Ralph

who carried the meals was strongly impregnated but disinfected.

My last doubts were removed.

A single word showed you, sir, that your secret was discovered.

Yes, yes, I see it now.

But tell me, sir, why did you write it down instead of saying it?

That was to prove to you that my discretion was to be trusted.

I thought as much.

Ah, here is the day.

Well, sir, let us know the West.

It is often my love to bring ill-tidings and serve them good.

This occasion is the more welcome, Colonel M'sworth.

It is not, let me say.

Not? What is it, Mr. Joe?

A well-not-case of pseudo-leprosy, ectheosis.

It's a spell-like affection of the skin,

and slightly obstinate, but possibly curable,

and certainly non-infective.

Then haven't they thanked?

But surely, if he got it from contact,

no, not from them.

A coincidence.

Remarkable, Dr. A. coincidence.

Coincidence, my dear Sir James,

are we assured that the apprehension

from which this young man has suffered since his terrible experience

may not have produced a physical effect

simulating temperature tears?

May they not be subtle forces of work

of which we know very, very little.

That was The Blanche Sodja by Michael Hadwick,

based on the short story by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Sherlock Holmes was date by Carlton Hobbes

and production for the BBC was by Frederick Bradman.