"Perhaps you can tell us something which may throw some light upon the matter." "I fear not; but all I know is at your service." "We have heard from Mr. Cecil Barker that you did not actually see--that you were never in the room where the tragedy occurred?" "No, he turned me back upon the stairs. He begged me to return to my room." "Quite so. You had heard the shot, and you had at once come down." "I put on my dressing gown and then came down." "How long was it after hearing the shot that you were stopped on the stair by Mr. Barker?" "It may have been a couple of minutes. It is so hard to reckon time at such a moment. He implored me not to go on. He assured me that I could do nothing. Then Mrs. Allen, the housekeeper, led me upstairs again. It was all like some dreadful dream." "Can you give us any idea how long your husband had been downstairs before you heard the shot?" "No, I cannot say. He went from his dressing room, and I did not hear him go. He did the round of the house every night, for he was nervous of fire. It is the only thing that I have ever known him nervous of." "That is just the point which I want to come to, Mrs. Douglas. You have known your husband only in England, have you not?" "Yes, we have been married five years." "Have you heard him speak of anything which occurred in America and might bring some danger upon him?" Mrs. Douglas thought earnestly before she answered. "Yes." she said at last, "I have always felt that there was a danger hanging over him. He refused to discuss it with me. It was not from want of confidence in me--there was the most complete love and confidence between us--but it was out of his desire to keep all alarm away from me. He thought I should brood over it if I knew all, and so he was silent." "How did you know it, then?" Mrs. Douglas's face lit with a quick smile. "Can a husband ever carry about a secret all his life and a woman who loves him have no suspicion of it? I knew it by his refusal to talk about some episodes in his American life. I knew it by certain precautions he took. I knew it by certain words he let fall. I knew it by the way he looked at unexpected strangers. I was perfectly certain that he had some powerful enemies, that he believed they were on his track, and that he was always on his guard against them. I was so sure of it that for years I have been terrified if ever he came home later than was expected." "Might I ask," asked Holmes, "what the words were which attracted your attention?" "The Valley of Fear," the lady answered. "That was an expression he has used when I questioned him. 'I have been in the Valley of Fear. I am not out of it yet.'--'Are we never to get out of the Valley of Fear?' I have asked him when I have seen him more serious than usual. 'Sometimes I think that we never shall,' he has answered." "Surely you asked him what he meant by the Valley of Fear?"