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“Now, the calculation was simple. If a rod of six feet made a shadow of nine, then a tree of sixty-four feet would make one of ninety-six. I measured the distance, almost reaching the house wall, and placed a peg. You can imagine how excited I was, Watson, when I found a depression in the ground just two inches from my peg. It was Brunton’s mark, and I knew I was on the right track.

“Starting from there, I took steps, first noting the cardinal points with my pocket compass. Ten steps in each direction along the house wall, marking each spot with a peg. Then I measured five steps to the east and two to the south, bringing me to the old door’s threshold. Two steps west led me down the stone passage, as the Ritual indicated.”

“I felt a deep disappointment, Watson. I thought I had made a big mistake in my calculations. The setting sun lit up the passage floor, showing that the old stones were firmly in place, untouched for years. Brunton hadn’t been here. I tapped the floor, but it sounded the same everywhere, no cracks or openings. Thankfully, Musgrave, now understanding my process, pointed out my error: I had missed the ‘and under’ part.”

“I thought it meant we had to dig, but then I realized I was wrong. ‘There’s a cellar under here?’ I exclaimed.

‘Yes, as old as the house. Down here, through this door.’”

“We descended a winding stone stair. My companion lit a lantern, revealing we had found the right place, recently visited by others.”

“The room, once used for wood storage, now had the wood piled to the sides, leaving a clear space. In the middle lay a large flagstone with a rusted iron ring, attached to which was Brunton’s muffler.

‘By Jove!’ exclaimed my client. ‘That’s Brunton’s muffler. I’ve seen it on him. What has he been doing here?’

At my suggestion, two county police officers were called. With their help, we moved the stone to reveal a black hole. Musgrave, kneeling, lowered the lantern.”

“We found a small chamber, seven feet deep and four feet square. In one corner was a squat, brass-bound wooden box. Its lid, with an old-fashioned key, was covered in dust and fungi. Several metal discs and old coins were scattered inside, but nothing else.”

However, at that moment, we didn’t pay attention to the old chest, because we were focused on what was next to it. It was a man dressed in black, crouched beside the chest. He was sitting with his forehead resting on the edge of the box and his arms stretched out on each side. The position had drained the blood from his face, and his distorted, pale face made it impossible to recognize him. However, his height, clothes, and hair confirmed to my client, when we lifted the body, that it was indeed his missing butler. He had been dead for several days, but there were no visible wounds to indicate how he had died. When his body was taken from the cellar, we still faced a problem almost as difficult as the one we started with.

I must admit, Watson, that until now I had been disappointed with my investigation. I had hoped to solve the case once we found the place mentioned in the ritual, but now that we were there, it seemed we were no closer to uncovering what the family had hidden with such care. While I had shed light on Brunton's fate, I now needed to discover how he had met his end and what role the missing woman had played in the matter. I sat down on a barrel in the corner and carefully considered the whole situation.

You know my methods in such situations, Watson. I try to put myself in the person's shoes and, considering their intelligence, imagine what I would do in their place. In this case, it was clear that Brunton was highly intelligent, so I didn't need to adjust for that factor. He knew something valuable was hidden and had found its location. He realized the stone covering it was too heavy to move alone. What would he do next? He couldn't get help from outside without risking exposure.