“If you think it's necessary,” he replied hesitantly. "To continue my story, I locked the bureau again with Brunton's key and was about to leave when he came back and stood before me.

‘Mr. Musgrave, sir,’ he said hoarsely, ‘I can’t handle disgrace. I've always been proud, and disgrace would destroy me. My blood will be on your head if you drive me to despair. If you can't keep me after what happened, let me give you notice and leave in a month, as if it's my choice. I could handle that, Mr. Musgrave, but not being cast out in front of everyone I know.’

‘You don't deserve much consideration, Brunton,’ I replied. ‘Your behavior has been terrible. But as you've been with us for a long time, I don't want to publicly disgrace you. A month is too long, though. Leave in a week, and you can give any reason you like.’

‘Only a week, sir?’ he cried. ‘At least give me two weeks!’”

“A week,’ I said again, ‘and you can consider yourself lucky to be let off so lightly.’

‘He slouched away, looking broken, while I put out the light and went back to my room.

‘For the next two days, Brunton worked diligently as if nothing had happened. I didn't mention what occurred and waited to see how he would explain his absence. But on the third morning, he didn't show up after breakfast, which was unusual. As I left the dining room, I bumped into Rachel Howells, the maid. She had recently recovered from an illness and looked pale and weak, so I scolded her for working.”

“‘You should be resting,’ I said. ‘Come back to work when you feel better.’

‘She gave me a strange look and said, “I'm fine, Mr. Musgrave.”

‘We'll see what the doctor says,’ I replied. ‘You should stop working for now. When you go downstairs, just tell them I want to see Brunton.’

‘The butler's gone,’ she said.

‘Gone? Where?’

‘He's gone. No one has seen him. He's not in his room. Oh, yes, he's gone, he's gone!’ She collapsed against the wall, laughing and crying, while I hurried to ring the bell for help. They took her to her room, still sobbing, while I asked about Brunton. He had vanished. His bed hadn't been slept in, and no one had seen him since the night before. But all the doors and windows were locked in the morning. His clothes, watch, and money were in his room, but his black suit was missing. His slippers were gone, but his boots were left behind. Where could Brunton have gone, and what happened to him?”

“We searched the house thoroughly, but found no trace of him. It's a huge old house, especially the original wing, which is mostly empty. We checked every room and cellar but found nothing. It seemed impossible for him to leave all his belongings behind. I called the local police, but they couldn't find him either. It had rained the night before, so we looked for footprints in the lawn and paths, but found nothing. While we were still puzzled about Brunton, another mystery emerged.”

“Rachel Howells had been very ill for two days, sometimes delirious, sometimes hysterical. A nurse was hired to watch over her at night. On the third night after Brunton disappeared, the nurse fell asleep in the armchair and woke up in the early morning to find the bed empty, the window open, and no sign of Rachel. I woke up immediately, and with the footmen, we went to look for her. We followed her footprints to the lake, where they disappeared near the gravel path leading out of the grounds. The lake is eight feet deep, and you can imagine our shock when we saw her trail ending at the edge of it.”

“We used drags to search the lake but found no body. However, we found a linen bag containing rusty metal pieces and dull-colored pebbles. That was all we found, and despite searching and asking around, we still don't know what happened to Rachel Howells or Richard Brunton. The local police are stumped, so I've come to you as a last resort.”

“You can imagine, Watson, how interested I was in this strange series of events, trying to piece them together and find a common thread. The butler disappeared. The maid disappeared. The maid loved the butler but later seemed to hate him. She was Welsh, passionate and fiery. She was extremely upset after he vanished. She threw a bag into the lake with some odd contents. These were all important factors, but none of them explained everything. What started this chain of events? That's the real question.”

“I need to see that paper, Musgrave,” I said. “The one your butler risked his job to consult.”

“It's a bit silly, this ritual of ours,” he replied. “But it's old, so that's something. I have a copy of the questions and answers if you want to take a look.”

“He handed me the paper I have here, Watson. This is the odd set of questions each Musgrave had to answer when they came of age. Let me read them to you.”

“‘Whose was it?’

‘‘It belonged to the person who is no longer here.’

‘‘Who shall have it?’

‘‘The one who will come in the future.’

‘‘Where was the sun?’

‘‘It was shining over the oak tree.’

‘‘Where was the shadow?’

‘‘It was under the elm tree.’

‘‘How was it stepped?’

‘‘First ten steps to the north, then five to the east, two to the south, and one to the west, and so on.’

‘‘What shall we give for it?’

‘‘We should give everything we have.’

‘‘Why should we give it?’

‘‘To honor the trust.’

“‘The original document is from the middle of the seventeenth century,’ Musgrave remarked. “But I’m afraid it won’t be much help in solving this mystery.”

“‘At least,’ I said, ‘it gives us another mystery, one even more interesting than the first. It might lead us to the solution of both. Musgrave, forgive me if I say your butler seems very clever, with better understanding than ten generations before him.’

‘“I don’t quite understand,” said Musgrave. “To me, the paper seems unimportant.”

“‘But to me, it seems very useful. I think Brunton felt the same way. He probably saw it before the night you caught him.’

‘“It’s possible. We didn’t hide it.’

“‘I think he just wanted to refresh his memory that night. He had some kind of map or chart that he was comparing with the manuscript, and he quickly put it in his pocket when you showed up.’

‘“True. But what does he have to do with our old family tradition, and what does this riddle mean?”

“‘I don’t think it’ll be hard to figure out,’ I said. ‘With your permission, let’s take the first train to Sussex and investigate further.’

“That afternoon, we arrived at Hurlstone. Maybe you’ve seen pictures or read about the old building, so I’ll just say it’s shaped like an L, with a newer part and an older part. Over the door of the old part, it says ‘1607’, but experts think it’s even older. The thick walls and small windows of this part led the family to build the new wing, and the old one is now mainly used for storage and as a cellar. A beautiful park with old trees surrounds the house, and the lake my client mentioned is close to the avenue, about two hundred yards from the building.”

“I was already convinced, Watson, that there wasn’t three separate mysteries, but just one. If I could understand the Musgrave Ritual, I’d have the clue to both the disappearance of the butler Brunton and the maid Howells. So, I focused all my energy on that. Why was the servant so eager to understand this old formula? He must have seen something in it that his masters didn’t, something he thought could benefit him personally. What was it, and how did it affect his fate?”

“It was obvious to me, after reading the Ritual, that the measurements must refer to a specific spot mentioned in the document. If we could find that spot, we’d be on our way to uncovering the secret the Musgraves thought was important enough to preserve. Two guides were given to us, an oak and an elm. There was no doubt about the oak. Right in front of the house, on the left side of the driveway, stood a magnificent oak tree.”

“‘That tree was there when your Ritual was written,’ I said as we passed it.

‘“It was probably there during the Norman Conquest,’ he answered. ‘It’s twenty-three feet around.’

“This was one of my starting points.

“‘Do you have any old elms?’ I asked.

“‘There used to be one over there, but it was struck by lightning ten years ago, and we had to cut down the stump.’

“‘Can you still see where it used to be?’

“‘Yes.’

“‘No other old elms?’

“‘None, but plenty of beeches.’

“I wanted to see where the elm had been.

“We hadn’t gone into the house yet. My client led me to the scar on the lawn where the elm had stood, about halfway between the oak and the house. My investigation was progressing.

“‘I suppose it is impossible to find out how high the elm was?’ I asked.

“‘I can tell you. It was sixty-four feet tall.’

“‘How do you know that?’ I asked in surprise.”

“‘When my old tutor used to give me an exercise in trigonometry, it always took the shape of measuring heights. When I was a lad I worked out every tree and building in the estate.”

“This was unexpected luck. My data were coming more quickly than I could have hoped.

“‘Tell me,’ I asked, “did your butler ever ask you such a question?”

“Reginald Musgrave looked at me in astonishment. ‘Now that you mention it,’ he answered, ‘Brunton did ask me about the height of the tree some months ago in connection with some little argument with the groom.’

“This was excellent news, Watson. It showed me that I was on the right track. I looked up at the sun. It was low in the heavens, and I calculated that in less than an hour it would be just above the topmost branches of the old oak. One condition mentioned in the Ritual would then be fulfilled. And the shadow of the elm must mean the farther end of the shadow, otherwise the trunk would have been chosen as the guide. I had, then, to find where the far end of the shadow would fall when the sun was just clear of the oak.”

“That must have been difficult, Holmes, when the elm was no longer there.’

‘Well, at least I knew that if Brunton could do it, I could also. Besides, there was no real difficulty. I went with Musgrave to his study and made myself this peg, to which I tied this long string with a knot at each yard. Then I took two lengths of a fishing rod, which came to just six feet, and I went back with my client to where the elm had been. The sun was just grazing the top of the oak. I fastened the rod on end, marked out the direction of the shadow, and measured it. It was nine feet in length.”