Most of his time he would spend in his room, with the door locked upon the inside, but sometimes he would emerge in a sort of drunken frenzy and would burst out of the house and tear about the garden with a revolver in his hand, screaming out that he was afraid of no man, and that he was not to be cooped up, like a sheep in a pen, by man or devil.

When these hot fits were over, however, he would rush tumultuously in at the door and lock and bar it behind him, like a man who can brazen it out no longer against the terror which lies at the roots of his soul.

At such times I have seen his face, even on a cold day, glisten with moisture, as though it were new raised from a basin.
"Well, to come to an end of the matter, Mr.Holmes, and not to abuse your patience, there came a night when he made one of those drunken sallies from which he never came back.

We found him, when we went to search for him, face downward in a little green-scummed pool, which lay at the foot of the garden.

There was no sign of any violence, and the water was but two feet deep, so that the jury, having regard to his known eccentricity, brought in a verdict of 'suicide.' But I, who knew how he winced from the very thought of death, had much ado to persuade myself that he had gone out of his way to meet it.